Middletown transcript., 1898-02-26
CHAPTER Ill

6rS SAT taking c0mfOrCaDly. Ihe1r car
bines were leaned against the wall At
their side and outlined in the black of
the open door stood a sentry, his weap-
on resting in the hollow of his arm.
-Four horses saddled and accoutered were
conferring with their heads together.
The four bride reins were flung over a
post.
Mary had intended to go and tell the
commander in blue that her mother did
not wish his men to use the barn at all,
but she paused when she heard him
speak to the sergeant. She thought she
perceived then that it mattered little to
him what her mother wished and that
an objection by her or by anybody
would be futile She saw the soldiers
conduct the prisoner in gray into the
barn, and for a long time she watched
three chatting guards and the pondering
sentry. Upon her mind in desolate
weight was the recollection of the three
men in the feed box.
It seemed to her that in case of this
description itwas her duty to be hero
inc. Plainly heroine would take meas
ures to rescue the four men. If she did
not at least make an attempt, she would
be false to those carefully constructed
ideals which were the accumulation Of
years and dreaming.
But the situation puzzled her. There
was the barn with only one door and
with four armed troopers in front Of
this door, one of them with his back to
the rest of the world engaged no doubt
in steadfast contemplation of the calm
man and incidentally of the feed box.
She knew, too, that even if she should
open the kitchen door three heads, and
perhaps four, would turn casually in her
direction. Their ears were real ears.
One by one she saw the gorgeous con-
trivanoes and expedients of fiction fall
before the plain homely difficulties Of
this situation. Sadly, ruefully, she
thought of the calm man and of the con-
tents of the feed box.
The sum of her invention was that
she could sally forth to the commander
of the blue cavalry, and, confessing to
him that there were three of her friends
and his enemies secreted in the feed box,
pray him to let them depart unmolest-
ed. But she was beginning to believe
the old graybeard to be bear. It was
hardly probable that he would give this
plan his support 1t was more probable
that he and some of his men would at
once descend upon the feed box and con-
fscate her three friends. The difficulty
with her idea was that she could not
learn its value without trying it, and
then in case of failure it would be too
late for remedies and other plans. She
reflected that war made men very un-
reasonable.
All she could do was to stand at the
window and mournfully regard the
barn. She admitted this to herself with |!
a sense Of deep humiliation. She was
not then made of that fine stuff, that |
mental satin, which enabled some other |
beings to be of such mighty service to |
the distressed. She was defeated by
barn with one door, by four men with |
eight eyes and eight ears-trivialities |
that would not impede the real hero
inc.
The vivid white light Of the broad |
day began slowly to fade. Tones of |
gray came upon the fields and the
shadows were of lead. In this more
somber atmosphere the fires built by |
the troops down in the far end Of the
orchard grew more brilliant, becoming
spots of crimson color in the dark grove.
The girl sat in the new gloom Of the
kitchen and watched. The soldiers lit
lantern and hung it in the barn. Its
rays made the form of the sentry seem
gigantic. Horses whinnied from the or.
chard. There was low hum of human
voices Sometimes small detachments
of troopers rode past the front Of the
house. The girl heard the abrupt calls
of the sentries. She fetched some food
and ate it from her hand, standing by
the window. She was SO afraid that
would occur that she barely
left her post for an instant.
Once she felt that she had made her
mind to reconnoiter at any rate. It was
night. The lantern at the barn and the
campfres made everything without
their circles into masses Of heavy mys-
tic blackness She took two steps to.
ward the door, but there she paused.
possibilities Of danger had
assailed her mind. She returned to the
window and stood wavering. At last
she went swiftly to the door. opened it
and slid noiselessly into the darkness.
For a moment she regarded the shad.
ows. Down in the orchard the camp
fires of the troops appeared precisely
like great painting, all In reds upon a
black cloth. The voices of the troopers
still hummed. The girl started slowly
off in the opposite direction. Her eyes
were fixed in stare. She studied the
darkness In front for moment before
she ventured upon forward step. I'm
her throat was arranged for
, sudden scream. High in the tree
she could hear the voice Of the /;
wind, melody Of the night, low and
1ad, the plaint of an endless incommuni-
,able sorrow. Her own distress, the
light of the men in gray-these near
matters as well as all she had known or
of grief-everything was ex-
PRESSED in this soft mourning of the
wind in the trees. r
At first she felt like weeping. This
Iong told her of human impotency and
loom. Then later the trees and the
Wind breathed strength to her, sang Of {
acrifce, Of dauntless effort, of hard |
,aryen faces that did not blanch when
iuty came at midnight or at noon.
She turned often TO scan the shadoWy
lgures that moved trom time to time II