Part 36 (1/2)

”Then it was that Lady Maurya took Lieutenant Templar by himself, and she brought him into the very hall where she told me the story, and she said to him (and how could any creature of earth or heaven have resisted her, for she has all the beauty and all the allurements of both?): 'Why were your wings all purple and gold when you came flying to save us that morning?'

”And he answered her: 'The shadow of the earth upon the skies, and a touch of dawn.'

”'But there was no dawn,' she said. 'And when you came to the great monster why did your wings change to flaming scarlet, so bright that no eyes could rest upon them?'

”'The rising sun,' he said.

”And she answered: 'But there was no rising sun.'

”And then he looked at her for a long time while neither spoke, and at last: 'How could you send the thing to earth without a single shot?' she asked.

”And he answered, after a moment: 'Because in me is all the strength of that bright ardor which has led young warriors to die in battle for the right since earth began. And now my strength is most mightily renewed with the strength of all the lads who were the first to die for England.

Was not your brother one of these? Such souls are the stuff of which are made the angels and archangels and all the heavenly host.'

”And as she looked at him, standing before her, it seemed to her, in the dim light, that instead of the evening clothes he had been wearing she saw again a glint of black armor as on the morning when he had first come to them, and then, like Elsa, she asked him who he was, and he, like Lohengrin, was gone.

”But from that day to this there has been no more sorrowing at Mallorie Abbey.”

The great northeaster had stopped its wild howling at the very moment that Vinton was adding: ”They have never known which of them it was-whether it was Michael-or Gabriel-or Raphael!”

Ware poked the fire and said nothing.

”Do you believe it?” asked Ware's sister.

”What an impossible word that word 'believe' is! What does it mean?”

”And do you like the idea-the idea of losing one's ident.i.ty in one great superlative being like that?”

Vinton thought a moment, and then he said: ”When I remember that all the trouble on this earth comes in the train of that infernal thing we call the ego it seems to me that the heavenly things must indeed arise from its complete surrender. Yes,” he continued more slowly, ”yes, I think I like it very much.”

THE TOAST TO FORTY-FIVE

_By_ WILLIAM DUDLEY PELLEY From _The Pictorial Review_ _Copyright, 1918, by The Pictorial Review Company._ _Copyright, 1919, by William Dudley Pelley._

In this little Vermont town of Paris, on the top floor of the red-brick post-office block, over half a century have been located the quarters of Farrington Post, Paris Chapter, G. A. R.

In the rooms of Farrington Post-under a gla.s.s case filled with countless other relics belonging to Captain Jonathan Farrington's company, that marched away one hundred and seven strong that forenoon in '61-has been kept a bottle of rare old wine.

That wine was old when those stalwart young Vermonters who followed Captain John Farrington were children. Through half a century it has occupied its place in that gla.s.s case; during that long time it has been viewed by many visitors to our town; over and over again has the story of ”The Toast to Forty-five” been told until that double-quart of priceless vintage has become one of our chief sights of interest to the stranger within the gates. It was not through accident or chance that this bottle of wine was saved. Up to last August there was a pretty sentiment connected with that bottle of wine and why it should have been preserved thus throughout the years.

Up to last August, indeed! Because that bottle is no longer under the gla.s.s case in the Grand Army rooms in the post-office block. It has been taken from among those relics of yesterday; the seal has been broken; the contents have been poured out. Glistening red as the blood which those lads of '61 shed for the principles in which they believed, that liquor was consumed in the pledging of a toast.

When the homefolks suggested that the county give a dinner to the returned heroes on the sixteenth day of August, 1866-Bennington Battle Day and a holiday in Vermont always-Das.h.i.+ng Captain Jack Fuller was not the one to quash the suggestion. ”Das.h.i.+ng Jack” had been the man to take John Farrington's place when John lost his life at Gettysburg. He was a great dude, was Captain Jack; a lover of the dramatic and the spectacular; with the pomp of soldiering verily in his blood and the vanity of many generations of Fullers in his fiber.

On the night of August 16, 1866, ”The Toast to Forty-five Banquet” was held on the top floor of the old Vermont House. It took place in the big room with the spring dance-floor. That old Paris hostelry was burned in '73. In the course of that affair, Das.h.i.+ng Jack arose and made a speech-likewise a proposal.

The flower of Vermont of the Sixties was gathered about those tables.

There were young men to whom fame and fortune afterward would come.