Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 21, Number 28, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 3 January 1891 — Page 2

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CHAPTER X.

There was no one to receive him but Mar bcl, and he wanted no one more. August was close at hand. Queen City "society" had scattered in every direction. The mountains and the seashore were levying tribute on the plethoric pockets of the "big men" on 'Change and on business of every conceivable kind. Blinds and shutters were closed at scores of hospitable mansions in the narrow streets of the old city, and even'in the elegant villas that crowned the surrounding heights. The sun glaro at midday was so intense that no man was safe in venturing forth without a huge sunshade of some kind, and even within the sacred prccincts of the club, where broad awnings hung on every side and palm leaf fans were in constant motion, the men strolled into luncheon in shirts of lightest flannel or pongee, with rolling collars and infinitesimal neckties. Every one who could leave town had long since gone and yet the Vincents lingered. Each day seemed to add to the anxiety in the mother's eyes as sho watched her husband's aging face. He had returned from a business trip of ten days or so looking hopeful and buoyant, and had gone to the office the following morning with light step and cheery demeanor, but came home long after the dinner hour listless and dispiritod—a severe headache, he said, but the wife knew that it was far more than head or^ieart ache. The family physician tocfif VP* won to warn Mr. Vincent that "he wfl^ doing himself grievous wrong—that his" health imperatively demanded rest and chango of scene. Vincent looked in the good old doctor's face with a world of dumb misery in his eyes, and only answered, "I will—I will—in a week or so. I cannot quit my post just now. Clark is taking liw vacation. When he returns I'll go." And until he could accompany them Mrs. Vincent refused to budge and yot sho began to urge that Mabel should start now. What v/na to prevent her going at once and joinitf# the Woodrows at Deer park? Clarissa and Eleanor Wood row were always such friends of here. But Mabel bogged that she might stay until both papa and mamma could go too sho could ncrt be content there without them, or at least without mother and Mrs. Vincent could not find the words in which to frame the cause of her greatest apprehension.

The one man whom the heat was pow­

erless to subdue was Gordon NoeL In the most immaculate and becoming costumes of white or straw color that genial officer would sauntor into the club at noontide, looking provokingly cool and comfortable, and, as ho expressed it, "without having turned a hair." "Hot!" he would say. "Call this hot? Why, bless your hearts, fellows, you -ought to live iu Arizona awhilo! Gad! Pve come in sometimes from a scout through the Gila desert and rushed for cold cream to plaster on my nose and cheeks: it would all be melted, of course "but when I clapped it on it would sizzle like so much lard in a frying pan. And down at Fort Yuma our hens laid hard boiled eggs from June to October." And then his eyes would twinklo with fun, and he would bury his dark mustache in the cracked ice of his julep with infinite relish. "I say," queried Mr. Morris of his churn, Terry, Jr., one languid afternoon after Noel had jauntily strolled, away, "don't you envy a feller who can enjoy life like that?" "Never saw anything like it!" quoth the younger. "One would suppose that after being a slave all mawning in those beastly works I ought to enjoy a little recreation but I can't, you know." "Queer ducks, those army fellers! Gad this love making by proxy is what gvts me—this sort of Miles Standish courtship business. She's prettier,though, than the original Priscllla." "How do you meanT queried young Terry, vaguely. He had been brought up under the thumb of his elder brother, mid from the outset had been given to understand that if he expected to share in the profits ho must learn the business. There had been no college for him, and New England legends were sealed, books. "Why, fmean thAt 'twouldntsurprise me a bit if we had a modern version of the old

4

w.-

Why don't you speak for your-

aelf, John? He's with her incessantly," "Oh! Miss Vincent you're speaking of. HOT name's Mabel, I thought, not— •what d'vou call haf "Never mind, Jimmy,'* said Morris, rising. "Oome and have a cigarette."

And it was not only in th« club, over their cigars, that men spoke signifc*n|7

eA fpijrillin| aArm^ {|omar\ce of th€ 09esiert\ {frem-Kef.

By GflPT. GtiflRL.ES KING, U. S. fl:

[Copyrighted by J. B. t,ipj?incott Company, Philadelphia, ana published through special arrangement with the-Ameri-can Press Association

of Mis attentions to the lovely daughter of the house of Vincent. It was not the men, indeed, who did the greater part of the talk. If they noticed mid spoke of it what must not the women have been saying! Noel, quitting the hospitable roof of Cousin Amos, had taken rooms down in town, midway between the club and the Vincent homestead, and those two points became the limits of his field of action. The Withers household had gone to the Maryland mountains, and the massive master of the establishment was treating himself to a month's vacation.

Almost all the pretty girls were gone. What more natural than that Mr. Nodi should so frequently seek the society of the prettiest of all, even if she were engaged to Frederick Lane, as people said she was before he went away? There was no monitorial Amos to call him off, no one to bid him turn his devotions elsewhere and she herself could see no harm, for was not almost all his talk of Capt. Lane? Was he not his legal and devoted friend? The captain's letters came ©very day, and he seemed pleased to know that Noel had such pleasant things to say of him, and was so attentive—or rather kind, because it wasn't really on her account that he came so frequently. To be sure, Capt. Lane did not say much about the

matter

one way or the other

and if he saw no harm, if he expressed no dissatisfaction, who else had any right to find fault?

Her mother, was the answer that conscience pricked into her heart quicker even than she could think. For days past the good lady's manner to Noel had been gaining in distance and coolness. "She is ill at ease—worried about papa," was Mabel's attempt at a self satisfying plea but conscience again warned her that she knew better—far better. Her father, engrossed in business cares that seemed only to increase with every day, had no eyes or ears for affairs domestic and so it resulted that when Noel came sauntering in at evening with his jaunty, debonnaire, joyous manner, there was no one to receive him but Mabel, and he wanted no one more. "Does Capt. Lane know of this and approve it?" was the grave qufstion her mother had at last propounded. "I have written to him with the utmost frankness, mother," was Miss Vincent's reply, while a wave of color swept ovfer her face and a rebellious light gleamed in her eyes, "and he has never hinted at such a thing as disapproval. Hqhas more confidence in me than you have. If he had not"

But the rest was left unsaid. Poor Mrs. Vincent! She turned away, well knowing that argument or opposition in such matters was mistaken policy. The words that sprung to her lips were, "Alas! he does not know you as I do!" but she shut those lips firmly, rigorously denying herself the feminine luxury of the last word and the launching of a Parthain arrow that would have made, indeed, a telling shot. If heaven is what it is painted, there can be no more joy over the sinner that repenteth than over the woman who tramples down her fiercest temptation and "bridleth her tongue." Mrs. Vincent deserved to be canonized.

And meantime, how went the world with Lane? Faithful, honest, simple hearted man that he was, holding himself in such modest estimate, marveling as he often did over the fact that he could have really won the love of a being so radiant, so exquisite as Mabel, he lived in a dream that was all bliss and beauty, except for the incessant and all pervading longing to see her—to be near her. He loved her with sa intensity that he had no means oV expressing. Not a waking instant was she absent from his thoughts, and in his dreams she appeared to him, crowned with a halo such as never angel knew. He used to lie awake at times in the dead hours of the night, wondering if the very newsboys and workmen realized their blessed privilege, that they could step upo* the flagstones that her little foot had pressed, that they could see her face, perhaps hear her voice, as she strolled in the cool of evening along the graveled pathway of the little park that adjoined her home. Loving her as he did, his heart went out to any one who knew her, or was even familiar with the city where she dwelt. He had felt for years a contempt for Gordon Noel that, at times, he had .difficulty in disguising. Now he was tempted to write to him, to shut out the past, to open confidential relations and have him write long letters that should tell of her.

There were three men in his troop in whom he felt a vague, mysterious interest simply because they had been enlisted at the old rendezvous' on Sycamore street, only three squaws from her home. Ho was so full of hope and faith and love and gratitude that the whole garrison seemed to hold naught but cheer and friendliness. He never dreamed of the stories the men were telling or the confidences women were whispering about the post. Noel had written again to Mrs. Biggs, and Mrs. Biggs had no* spared her information. It was now said in Queen City society that the engagement was of Mr. Vincent's making. He had been associated with Lane in soma speculations that proved disastrous, but the captain had shown such command of money and had "put up" at such an opportune moment that they came out in good shape after all, and as soon as the old man found thai Lane loved hi* daughter he insiatedon her accepting

,**"*+• FJf

him The information nbout Lane's coming to the

rescue

with money he had

heard from Mr. Vincent himself—as indeed he had. One evening when they were for the moment alone, in a burst of confidence to the man whom he believed to be a devoted friend of his prospective son-in-law, Vincent had told the silent officer the story of that perilous crisis and of Lane's prompt and generous loan —but not as Noel told it to Mrs. Biggs. "Do not distress yourself, my darling rone," wrote Lane to his fiancee, "because your letters area little less frequent just now. I

know

how occupied you must

be with preparation and how anxious you are about the dear old father. Next week you will be in the mountains and then, as you say, people will give you time to write, and then, too, I shall be happy in your regaining health and spirits. The papers tell me how intepse has been the heat it almost equals ours here in one way, and is much worse in being moist and muggy. There is a prospect of my going on a- two weeks' scout with my whole troop early in the month but your letters will reach me safely.'*

Why was it that she should experience a fifing almost of relief in reading that he was going to he absent from the garrison awhile—going out on a two weeks' scout?

Shft had sent him, as she promised, a lovely cabinet photograph of herself that had been taken expressly for him. It came to the old frontier fort just as the men were marching up from evening stables, and the messenger, distributing the mail about the post, handed the packet to the captain as he stood with a little knot of comrades on the walk. There was instant demand that he should open it and show the picture to them, but, blushing like a girl, he broke away and hid himself in his room and then, when sure of being uninterrupted, he took it to the window and feasted his eyes upon the exquisite face and form there portrayed. He kept it from that time in a silken case, which he locked in a bureau drawer whenever he left the house, but in the evening or when writing at his desk he brought it forth to light again and set it where every moment he could look upon and almost worship it.

And then came her letters announcing their safe arrival at Deer Park: '•Our journey was most trying, for the heat was intolerable until we got well up among the, mountains. Papa came but I know he is simply fretting his heart out with anxiety to get back to the office. Mr. Clark only returned from his vacation the day we started. Gordon Noel came down to the train to see tis off, and brought mother a basket of such luscious fruit. He says that he has no home to go to now that we are gone. Indeed, he has been very thoughtful and kind, and I don't think he is quite happy despite his efforts to be always gay and cheerful,

Probably conscience smote her, for during the week that followed five Liters came—five letters in seven da$s! His heart went wild with delight over their tenderness. The last was written Saturday, and then none came for three days and when the fourth day came and brought the longed for missive it was a disappointment, somehow. "Papa left us to go back totheoffioe last night," she wrote. "He could stand it no longer I fear it did him little good here. The Witherses came bri Saturday, ani that strange girl, Miss MnraimH, is srith them. She always impresses me with the idea that she sis striving to read my thoughts. She speaks so admiringly of yon, and saps yon wero *so courteous' to her the night you dined at the Witherses' and I to not remember your ever saying anything about her to me. Yon see, sir, I am much more communicative aboutL xny Meads. "We had such a delightful surprise Saturday night. Who should appear in the hop room but Gordon Noel. He stayed until the midnight train Sunday and I really was very glad to see him."

And here Lane stopped reading

while.

*^L.

RRHlETAUTE SATODiY EVENING^ MAIL

UT

CHAPTER

a

l?or some reason or other thesdrat which Lane's company had been ordered to hold itself in readiness to make vas postponed, no further orders coning from department headquarters which required sending any troops into the moantains west of Fort Graham. The captain, far from being disappointed, seemed strangely relieved that hew&s not required to take his troop into the field at that particular moment. "Something had happened," said Mrs. Breese, who was a keen observer, "to change the Spirit of his dream within the last few days." His face lacked the radiant and joyous look that it had had erer

[nan instant he thrust aside Vie second portiere.

&

getting a,n inkling of the stories that are in circulation?" was the natural inquiry. "Is he beginning to learn that others were before him in that fair

Question him. about him, wi •kindliness, that anything like coi

ere was something all his frankness and eld people aloof from deuce. onfidant of either sex

He never had

and this was something that rendered him at one timf somewhat unpopular among the worn most always, as one of the marri as a repository ties, their hopes never indulged i: all the better was noticed wit! anxiety he watch] the mail. It was ,ing the two wee four letters were 4une, well known of course, readin, readily Account letters were fi dances and picni to the neighbori •had met scores and had become large circle from

Younger officers alale, had chosen some dies of the regiment care3 and anxie--rs but Lane had such luxury, and un was it. Now it hat eagerness and for the coming of observed that durfollowed only ived in her, by this erscription. Lane, ie contents, could the scarcity. Her of descriptions of and riding parties mountains. They pleasant people, quainted with a tsof the country, ling regularly in ire so thoroughly customed to one ancies that hardly :h they were not asant recreation, ys been a favorite mother was glad, ing it up again

They danced ever the hop room, and acquainted and si another's moods an hour passed ii occupied in some Lawn tennis had a! 'game of hers, and she said, to se her with such alacrit doing her good her! the languor and pressed her whtfh si tnb long hot^pell

1

"Do you really mean that you will be gone a fortnight? How I shall miss your dear letters, Fred. And now indeed I will try to write regularly. There's no one here I care anything about, though the hotel seems very and there is much dancing and gay* You say that iny letters but I wonder how."

Lane read this with a sigh of relief. He had persuaded himself that it was because he dreaded the effect of the long continued hot weather upon her that he so desired her to get to the»mountains. Any other thought would have been disloyalty to his queen. He wished—just a little bit—that she had not written of him as Gordon Noel he much preferred that she should call him captain. She would not write so i'ully and frankly of him if he were anything but friendly, he argued, and she would not tolerate his visits on any other grounds. Yet she did not tell him that, they had walked up and down the platform together for ten minutes before the train started, ai*l that when it was time to part he had bent down and said, almost in a whisper: "Do you want to send ain me to Fred Lane in your next let: "I will do so, if you wish," sh mured but her eyes fell before thl in his, and the hot blood rushed face. "Tell him there's no man in all the regiment I so long to see, a ad no man fa all the world I so envy."

The open air was was returning which had oparrived after me had disapwith returning for out door, nstead of havhours in whi^h ,11 her time now orts, in horseirives over the gh the beautiwere sursaid, "Fred, and color, I

peered entirely. tfe cama all the ,ipccination, e^e Jiad p! write to him, was taken up in back rides, in Ion mountain roads and ful scenery by whicl rounded. "And so,' dear, in regaining fear your Mabel has you

Badly neglected

tolling him of ppearauce at the one for him upon him

His reply to her lett Mr. JNoers unexpected Park was rather a to write. It was da that the attentions of his regimental comrade to his fiancee were not as entirely platonic as they might be. Desire to show all courtesy and kindliness to the lady love of another officer was all very well in its way, but it did not necessitate daily calls when at home, and far less did it warrant his leaving his station without permission—running the risk of a reprirhand, or even possible court martial—and taking a long journey, being absent from his post all Saturday, and certainly not returning there before the afternoon of Monday. If this were known at the headquarters of the recruiting service Lieut. Noel in all probability would bo rapped severely over the knuckles, if nothing worse. Lane could not, and would not, for an instant blame his fiancee, but he gently pointed out to her that Mr. Noel ran great risks in making such a journey, and that it would be well on that account to discourage similar expeditions in the future. To this she-made no direct reply, but that she observed his caution is quite possible. 1

At all events no further mention of visits on the part of Mr. Noel appeared in any of the letters which reached him before the orders for the scout actually did arrive: but that was not until near the very end of the month. It was just about the 28th of August when rumors came of turbulence and threatened outbreak among the Indians at the Chiricahua reservation. Troops were already marching thither from the stations in Arizona, and Capt. Lane was ordered to cross the range and scout on the east Side of the reservation, in order tp drive back any renegades who might be tempted to "make a break." Jnsfc one day before the start he wa» surprised at receiving a letter from Mrs. Vincent. She spoke gladly of Mabel's impropd health and appearance elie spoke h^ftilly of Mr. Vincent, whose letters, were more cheerful than the and who had been able to coi spend, two Sundays with th had doubtless told him of visit, and how glad they were to see any face so plaasant an And now she wished to their contract before his frontier. He doubtless xemem •he had promised that in then ahe would give him the seemed best to her that the afcoold not he announced. It a pretty long letter to tell all why, so she would not venture at the moment hot the r* longer existed, and_if he_*

up and Mabel Noel's

Miliar him of for the

would gladly have it made lniown to relatives, as she would now proceed to announce it to Mabel's.

Lane was greatly rejoiced at this. He had been a trifle uneasy and despondent of late, yet scarcely knew why. Her letters were not all he had hoped they would be by this time, but then he did not know but that it was all natural and light he had never had love letters before—had never seen them—and his ideas of what a woman's letters to her betrothed should be were somewhat vague and undefined. However, there was no one in the garrison to whom he specially cared to formally annouiice his ca ^gement. People had ceased of late uiu.:'.:r7 remarks or inquiries, as nothing had b,-:i safcossftd in extracting information fi'otii him in the past. Giving directions that his mail should be forwarded once a week, or twice a week if possible, to the railway station nearest the Chiricahua mountains, where he

Nothing of very great importance had occurred on the scout. A few renegades managed to escape eastward from the reservation and to take to the mountains, through which Lane's command was then scouting and to him and to his troop was intrusted the duty of capturing and bringing them back to the reservation. This took him many a long mile south of the railway. It was three weeks and more before he made his way to the reservation with his prisoners. There he found a small package of letters, which had been forwarded direct from Graham, where they evidently knew that he would go into the agency before reaching the railway, where his other letters were probably awaiting him. Among those which he received was one from Mr. Vincent. Briefly it said to him, "If a possible thing, come to us as soon as you can obtain leave of absence. There are matters which excite my greatest apprehension, and I feel that 1 must see you. My health, 1 regret to say, is failing me rapidly. Come, if you can."

Another was from Mrs. Vincent. She spoke with great anxiety of Mr. Vincent's waning health said very little of Mabel, nothing whatever of Mr. Noel. She told him that the engagement had been formally announced to all their relatives, .and that letters of congratulation had been showered on Mabel from all sides, although there was some little surprise expressed that she should marry an army officer. "She herself has not been well at all, and I really believe that a visit from you would do much to restore her health and spirits. She has been unlike hersglf ever since we came back from the mountains."

In this same package of letters were two from Mflkal. These read with infinite yearning in his heart, and they only served to increase the wordless anxiety and the intolerable sense of something lacking, which he had first felt after the letter that announced Gordon Noel's visit to Deer Park. One more letter there was. This he opened, saw that it was type written and had no signature, indignantly tore it into fragments and tossed them to the wind.

The commanding general of the department—an old and kind friend of Lane's—was then looking over affairs for himself, at the reservation. Lano obtained a few moments' conversation with him, briefly stated his needs, and showed him Mr. Vincent's letter. The instant the general saw the signature he looked up, startled, and then arose from his seat, put his hand on the captain's shoulder, and drew him to one side. "My dear boy," he said, "there is later news than this. It is dated Sept. 14, you see. Have you heard nothing more?" "Nothing, general. What has happened?" answered Lane, his voice trembling and his bronzed face rapidly paling. "Am I—am I too late?" "I fear so, Lane. ELad M:. Vincent a partner named Clark?" "Yes sir his junior partner." "Clark defaulted, embezzled, hypothecated securities and heaven knows what all, blew out his brains in his private office, and Mr. Vincent stumbled over the body an hour afterwards, was prostrated by the shock, and died of heart failure three days later. The papers were full of 'he tragedy for nearly a week: but theje are none to be had here,

I'm afraid. Now you will want to start at once. Never mind your troop. Just tell your lieutenant to report here to Capt. Bright for orders, and 111 have them sent back to Graham by easy

"'Lateat night Lane reached the railway

only

to

find his

could get it by sending couriers once in fellow's heart as he realized that in all a while, provided there was no danger their bereavement and grief it was in doing so, Lane m.irched away one evening on what proved to be an absence of an entire month. He never again saw Fort Graham until the end of September, and then only long enough to enable him to change from his scouting rig into traveling costume, to throw a few clothes into a trunk and to drive to the railway station as fast as the ainbu lance could carry him in order to catch the first express train going, east.

train five hours be­

hind'. He telegraphed to Mabel that he would come to her as fast as

train

c*J"^

bring him-that the sad news had only S reached him.

He

strode for hours

up and down the little platform under the glittering stars, yearning to reach her, to

comfort

and console her this

bitter sorrow. Time and again he tiirned^over mi mind the few particulars winch he.had obtained from the rnander. They were all too bnef, ^but pointed conclusively to one fact-that Clark had been encouraged by the success of June to plunge still more the hope of retrieving the lossesof the pasttwoyears. LnckUyforVtacent^he had used his Jnne winnings in lifting the mortgage from his homestead and in friiring up any of his outstanding paper. and so had little wherewith to snpply his confident partner but Lane wondered if the kindly old man had any idea that up to the end of August, atleast. CTark^d not sent to him, as directed, "the draft for tlie entire amount" to which referred the tot letter Mr. Vincent had ever written to him.

It was daybreak when the^faain c*ma

c..

It was noon when he sprang from the cars at Graham" station and into the ambulance sent to meet him in response to his telegraphic request. Were there any letters? he eagerly asked. None now. A small package had been forwarded to the reservation hist night, and must have passed him on the way. Others had been waiting for him at the mountain station until he was reported by wire as arriving with his prisoners at the agency. Everything then had been sent thither, and there would bono getting them before starting. At Graham the telegraph operator showed him the duplicates of the telegrams that had come for him in his absence—only two. One announced Mr. Clark's suicide and Vincent's prostration and danger: the other two days later, briefly read, "Mr. Vincent died this morning. Mrs. Vincent and Mabel fairly well.*

Both were signed "Gordbu Noel." and a jealous pang shot tnrougn the poor

Noel's privilege to be with them and to be of use to them, while he, her affianced husband, was far beyond hail. He was ashamed of his own thoughts an instant after, and bitterly upbraid \1 Ll.aself that he was not thankful I. they could have had so attentive and thoughtful an aid as Noel well knew how to be. Yet—why was not Reginald sufficient?

He had torn into fragments the anonymous sheet that had met him at the reservation, and yet its words were gnawing at Ms heartstrings now. and he could not crush them down: "Why was your engagement denied? Because sho still cared for Will Rossiter and hoped he might come back to her after all. "Why did Gordon Noel stay at the other hotel the second and third times he spent Sunday at Deer Park? Because she wished to hide from her mother, as she did from you, that he came at all. "Why does she meet him on the street instead of at homo? Because her father interposed in your behalf but all the same you are being betrayed."

These words, or others exactly of their import, were what met his startled eyes at Chiricahua. but the instant ho noted that these carefully type written sentences were followed by no signature at all—not even the oft abused "A Friend" —indignation and wrath followed close on the heels of his amaze, and in utter contempt ho had destroyed the cowardly sheet: but he could not so easily conquer the poison thus injected in his veins. All the long, long journey to the east they haunted him, dancing before his eyes, sleeping or waking, and it was with haggard face and wearied frame that he reached the Queen City, and, talcing a cab, drove at once to her home.

It was a lovely evening in early October. The sun had been shining brilliantly all day long, ai^l almost everywhere doors and windows were open to woo the cool air now gently stirring. The cab stopped before the well remembered steps, and Lane hastened to the broad doorway. No need to ring the portals stood invitingly open. The gas burned brightly in the hall and in the sitting room to the left. He entered unheatatihgly, and stood 'all alone in the/bom where he had spent so many nappy hours listening to the music of her voice, watching the play and animation in her lovely face. He caught a glimpse of his own, gaunt, haggard, hollow eyed, in the mirror over the old fashioned mantel. What was he that he should have won a creature so radiant, so exquisite?

There was the heavy portiere that shut off the little passage to the library. His footfall made no sound in the deep, rich carpeting. It was there she welcomed him that wonderful Friday afternoon—that day that was the turning point, the climax, of his life. Hark! was that her voice, low, sweet, tremulous in there now? Hush! Was that a gob?—a woman's suppressed weeping? Quickly he stepped forward, and in an instant had thrust aside the second portiere but he halted short at the threshold, petrified by the scent! before him.

Mabel Vincent, clasped in Gordon Noel's embrace, her arms about his neck, gazing up into his face with almost worship in her weeping eyes, raised her lips to meet the passionate kiss of his. "My darling." ho mun "what can you fear? Have you no-. ven me the right to protect you?*' And the handsome he ul was tossed proudly back, and for one little minute was indeed heroic. Then, with instantaneous change, every drop of blood fled from his face, leaving it ashen, death like. ••Gordon!" she cried, "what is it? Are you ill?"

Then, following the glance of his staring eyes.

she

away

turned and saw and swooned

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