Part 44 (2/2)

Then, at Claudia's request, Penelope sang a French song made in olden days. And I thought it a little sad, but very sweet to hear there in the gathering dusk.

Other officers came up in the growing darkness, paid their respects, tasted the punch. Candles glimmered in the Summer House. Shadowy forms arrived and departed or wandered over the gra.s.sy slope along the water.

I missed Claudia. Later, I saw Penelope rise and give her hand to a man who came stalking up in a watch cloak; and presently they strolled away over the lawn, with her arm resting on his.

Major Westfall and Lady Johnson were conversing gravely on the north porch. Others, dimly visible, chatted around me or moved with sudden clank of scabbard and spur.

Penelope did not come back. At first I waited calmly enough, then with increasing impatience.

Where the devil had she gone with her Captain Spatter-dash? Claudia I presently discovered with men a-plenty around her; but Penelope was not visible. This troubled me.

So I went down to the orchard, carelessly sauntering, and not as though in search of anybody. And so encountered Penelope.

She and her young man in the watch-cloak pa.s.sed me, moving slowly under the trees. He wore black spatter-dashes. And, as we saluted, it came to me that this was one of the officers from the Canajoharie Regiment; but in the starlight I knew him no better than I had by day.

”Strange,” thought I, ”that young Spatter-dashes seems so familiar to my eyes, yet I can not think who he may be.”

Then, looking after him, I saw his comrade walking toward me from the well, and with him was Colas, with a lantern, which s.h.i.+ned dimly on both their faces.

And, suddenly: ”Why, sir!” I blurted out in astonishment, ”are you not Captain Hare?”

”No, sir,” said he, ”my name is Sims, and I am captain in the Canajoharie militia.” And he bowed civilly and walked on, Colas following with the lantern, leaving me there perplexed and still standing with lifted cap in hand.

I put it on, pondered for a s.p.a.ce, striving to rack my memory, for that man's features monstrously resembled Lieutenant Hare's, as I saw him at supper that last night at Johnson Hall, when he came there with Hiokatoo and Stevie Watts, and that Captain Moucher, whom I knew a little and trusted less, for all his mealy flatteries.

Well, then, I had been mistaken. It was merely a slight resemblance, if it were even that. I had not thought of Hare since that evening, and when I saw this man by lantern light, as I had seen him by candles, why, I thought he seemed like Hare.... That was all.... That certainly was all there could be to it.

Near to the lilacs, where candle light fell from the south window of the little lodge, I stumbled once again upon Penelope. And she was in Spatter-dash's arms!

For a moment I stood frozen. Then a cold rage possessed me, and G.o.d knows what a fool I had played, but suddenly a far whistle sounded from the orchard; and young Spatter-dash kisses her and starts a-running through the trees.

He had not noticed me, nor discovered my presence at all; but Penelope, in his arms, had espied me over his shoulder; and I thought she seemed not only flushed but frightened, whether by the fellow's rough ardour or my sudden apparition I could not guess.

Still cold with a rage for which there was no sensible warrant, I walked slowly to where she was standing and fumbling with her lace ap.r.o.n, which the callow fool had torn.

”I came to say good-bye,” said I in even tones.

She extended her hand; I laid grim and icy lips to it; released it.

There was a silence. Then: ”I did not wish him to kiss me,” said she in an odd voice, yet steady enough.

”Your lips are your own.”

”Yes.... They were yours, too, for an instant, Mr. Drogue.”

<script>