THE SILENT BATTLE
The table rang from end to end with joke and laughter.
[Page 203.]
THE
SILENT BATTLE
BY
GEORGE GIBBS
AUTHOR OF
THE BOLTED DOOR,
THE FORBIDDEN WAY. ETC.
ILLUSTRATED
NEW Y O RJK
GROSSET & DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS
COPYRIGHT, 1913. BY
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
Copyright, 1912, 1913. by the Pictorial Review Cowpanv
Printed in the United States of America
CONTENTS
'HAPTER PAGE
I. LOST . 1
II. BABES IN THE WOODS . . . . . . .11
III. VOICES 22
IV. EDEN S3
V. WOMAN AND MAX 46
VI. THE SHADOW 60
VII. ALLEGRO 73
VIII. CHICOT, THE JESTER .84
IX. THE LORINGS 95
X. MR. VAN DUYN RIDES FORTH .... 109
XI. THK CEDARCROFT SET 122
XII. NELLIE PENNINGTON CUTS IN .... 136
XIII. MRS. PENNINGTON'S BROUGHAM .... 151
XIV. THE JUNIOR MEMBER 166
XV. DISCOVERED 177
XVI. BEHIND THE ENEMY'S BACK . . 190
XVII. "THK POT AND KETTLE" 200
XVIII. THE ENEMY AND A FRIEND . . . 212
XIX. LOTS ON CRUTCHES 225
XX. THB INTRUDER . . 236
2135753
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
XXI. TEMPTATION 247
XXII. SMOKE AND FIRE 261
XXIII. THE MOUSE AND THE LION 273
XXIV. DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND 285
XXV. DEEP WATER 297
XXVI. BIG BUSINESS 310
XXVII. MR. LORING REFLECTS ...... 323
XXVIII. THE LODESTAR 338
XXIX. ARCADIA AGAIN , . , e . 350
VI
THE SILENT BATTLE
THE SILENT BATTLE
LOST
GALLATIN wearily lowered the creel from his shoul-
ders and dropped it by his rod at the foot of a
tree. He knew that he was lost had known it, in
fact, for an hour or more, but with the certainty that
there was no way out until morning, perhaps not even
then, came a feeling of relief, and with the creel, he
dropped the mental burden which for the last hour had
been plaguing him, first with fear and then more recently
with a kind of ironical amusement.
What did it matter, after all? He realized that for
twenty-eight years he had made a mess of most of the
things he had attempted, and that if he ever got back
to civilization, he would probably go diligently on in the
way he had begun. There was time enough to think about
that to-morrow. At present he was so tired that all he
wanted was a place to throw his weary limbs. He had
penetrated miles into the wilderness, he knew, but in what
direction the nearest settlement lay he hadn't the vaguest
notion to the southward probably, since his guide had
borne him steadily northward for more than two weeks.
That blessed guide! With the omniscience of the in-
experienced, Gallatin had left Joe Keegon alone at camp
after breakfast, with a general and hazy notion of whip-
1
THE SILENT BATTLE
ping unfished trout pools. He had disregarded his men-
tor's warning to keep his eye on the sun and bear to
his left hand, and in the joy of the game, had lost all sense
of time and direction. He realized now from his aching
legs that he had walked many miles farther than he had
wanted to walk, and that, at the last, the fish in his creel
had grown perceptibly heavier. The six weeks at Mul-
ready's had hardened him for the work, but never, even
at White Meadows, had his muscles ached as they did now.
He was hungry, too, ravenously hungry, and a breeze
which roamed beneath the pines advised him that it was
time to make a fire.
It was a wonderful hunger that he had, a healthful,
beastlike hunger not the gnawing fever, for that seemed
to have left him, but a craving for Joe's biscuits and
bacon (at which he had at first turned up his pampered
aristocratic nose), which now almost amounted to an ob-
session. Good old Joe! Gallatin remembered how, dur-
ing the first week of their pilgrimage, he had lain like
the sluggard that he was, against the bole of a tree, weary
of the ache within and rebellious against the conditions
which had sent him forth, cursing in his heart at the old
Indian for his taciturnity, while he watched the skillful
brown fingers moving unceasingly at the evening task.
Later he had begun to learn with delight of his own grow-
ing capabilities, and as the habit of analysis fell upon him,
to understand the dignity of the vast silences of which
the man was a part.
Not that Gallatin himself was undignified in the world-
ly way, for he had lived as his father and his father's
fathers before him had lived, deeply imbued with the
traditions of his class, which meant large virtues, civic
pride, high business integrity, social punctilio, and the
only gentlemanly vice the Gallatin blood had ever been
2
^ LOST
heir to. But a new idea of nobility had come to him in
the woods, a new idea of life itself, which his conquest
of his own energy had made possible. The deep aisles
of the woods had spoken the message, the spell of the
silent places, the mystery of the eternal which hung on
every lichened rock, which sang in every wind that swayed
the boughs above.
Heigho! This was no time for moralizing. There
was a fire to light, a shelter of some sort to build and
a bed to make. Gallatin got up wearily, stretching his
tired muscles and cast about in search of a spot for his
camp. He found two young trees on a high piece of
ground within a stone's throw of the stream, which would
serve as supports for a roof of boughs, and was in the
act of gathering the wood for his fire, when he caught the
crackling of a dry twig in the bushes at some distance
away. Three weeks ago, perhaps, he would not have
heard or noticed, but his ear, now trained to the accus-
tomed sounds, gave warning that a living thing, a deer
or a black bear, perhaps, was moving in the undergrowth.
He put his armful of wood down and hid himself behind
a tree, drawing meanwhile an automatic, the only weapon
he possessed, from his hip pocket. He had enough of
woodcraft to know that no beast of the woods, unless
in full flight, would come down against the wind toward a
human being, making 1 such a racket as this. The crack-
ling grew louder and the rapid swish of feet in the dry
leaves was plainly audible. His eye now caught the
movement of branches and in a moment he made out
the dim bulk of a figure moving directly toward him.
He had even raised the hand which held his Colt and
was in the act of aiming it when from the shelter of the
moose-wood there emerged a girl.
She wore a blue flannel blouse, a short skirt and long
3
THE SILENT BATTLE
leather gaiters and over one hip hung a creel like his own.
Her dress was smart and sportsmanlike, but her hat was
gone ; her hair had burst its confines and hung in a pitiful
confusion about her shoulders. She suggested to him
the thought of Syrinx pursued by the satyrs; for her
cheeks were flushed with the speed of her flight and her
eyes were wide with fear.
Comely and frightened Dryads who order their clothes
from Fifth Avenue, are not found every day in the heart
of the Canadian wilderness; and Gallatin half expected
that if he stepped forward like Pan to test her tangibility,
she would vanish into empty air. Indeed such a meta-
morphosis was about to take place; for as he emerged
from behind his tree, the girl turned one terrified look in
his direction and disappeared in the bushes.
For a brief moment Gallatin paused. He had had
visions before, and the thought came into his mind that
this was one like the others, born of his overtaxed
strength and the rigors of the day. But as he gazed
at the spot where the Dryad had stood, branches of young
trees swayed, showing the direction in v/hich she was
passing and the sounds in the crackling underbrush, ever
diminishing, assured him that the sudden apparition was
no vision at all, but very delectable flesh and blood, fleeing
from him in terror. He remembered, then, a tale that
Joe Keegon had told him of a tenderfoot, who when lost
in the woods was stricken suddenly mad with fear and,
ended like a frightened animal running away from the
guides that had been sent for him. Fear had not come
to Gallatin yet. He had acknowledged bewilderment and
a vague sense of the monstrous vastness of the thing he
had chosen for his summer plaything. He had been
surprised when the streams began running up hill instead
of down, and when the sun appeared suddenly in a new
4
LOST
quarter of the heavens, but he had not been frightened.
He was too indifferent for that. But he knew from the
one brief look he had had of the eyes of the girl, that
the forest had mastered her, and that, like the fellow in
Joe's tale, she had stampeded in fright.
Hurriedly locking his Colt, Gallatin plunged headlong
into the bushes where the girl had disappeared. For a
moment he thought he had lost her, for the tangle of
underbrush was thick and the going rough, but in a rift
in the bushes he saw the dark blouse again and went for-
ward eagerly. He lost it, found it again and then sud-
denly saw it no more. He stopped and leaned against a
tree listening. There were no sounds but the murmur of
the rising wind and the note of a bird. He climbed over
a fallen log and went on toward the slope where he had
last seen her, stopping, listening, his eyes peering from
one side to the other. He knew that she could not be far
away, for ahead of him the brush was thinner, and the
young trees offered little cover. A tiny gorge, rock
strewn, but half filled with leaves, lay before him, and
it was not until he had stumbled halfway across it that
he saw her, lying face downward, her head in her hands,
trembling and dumb with fear.
From the position in which she lay he saw that she
had caught her foot in a hidden root and, in her mad
haste to escape she knew not what, had fallen headlong.
She did not move as he approached; but as he bent over
her about to speak, she shuddered and bent her head more
deeply in her arms, as though in expectation of a blow.
" I'm not going to hurt you," he said softly.
At the sound of his voice she trembled again, but he
leaned over and touched her on the shoulder.
" I'm very sorry I frightened you," he said again.
And then after a moment, " Have you lost your way? "
THE SILENT BATTLE
She painfully freed one arm, and looked up; then
quickly buried her head again in her hands, her shoulders
heaving convulsively, her slender body racked by childish
sobs.
Gallatin straightened in some confusion. He had
never, to his knowledge, been considered a bugaboo among
the women of his acquaintance. But, as he rubbed his
chin pensively, he remembered that it was a week or more
since he had had a shave, and that a stiff dark stubble
discolored his chin. His brown slouch hat was broken and
dirty, his blue flannel shirt from contact with the briers
was tattered and worn, and he realized that he was hardly
an object to inspire confidence in the heart of a frightened
girl. So, with a discretion which did credit to his knowl-
edge of her sex, he sat down on a near-by rock and waited
for the storm to pass.
His patience was rewarded, for in a little while her
sobs were spent, and she raised her head and glanced at
him. This time his appearance reassured her, for Galla-
tin had taken off his hat, and his eyes, no longer darkly
mysterious in shadow, were looking at her very kindly.
" I want to try and help you, if I can," he was saying
gently. " I'm about to make a camp over here, and if
you'll join me "
Something in the tones of his voice and in his manner
of expressing himself, caused her to sit suddenly up and
examine him more minutely. When she had done so,
her hands made two graceful gestures one toward her
disarranged hair and the other toward her disarranged
skirt. Gallatin would have laughed at this instinctive
manifestation of the eternal feminine, which even in direst
woe could not altogether be forgotten, but instead he only
smiled, for after all she looked so childishly forlorn and
unhappy.
6
LOST
" I'm not really going to eat you, you know," he said
again, smiling.
" I I'm glad," she stammered with a queer little
smile. " I didn't know what you were. I'm afraid I
I've been very much frightened."
" You were lost, weren't you? "
" Yes." She struggled to her knees and then sank
back again.
" Well, there's really nothing to be frightened about.
It's almost too late to try to find your friends to-night,
but if you'll come with me I'll do my best to make you
comfortable."
He had risen and offered her his hand, but when she
tried to rise she winced with pain.
" I I'm afraid I can't," she said. " I think I I've
twisted my ankle."
" Oh, that's awkward," in concern. " Does it hurt
you very much? "
" I I think it does. I can't seem to use it at all."
She moved her foot and her face grew white with the pain
of it.
Gallatin looked around him vaguely, as though in ex-
pectation that Joe Keegon or somebody else might
miraculously appear to help him, and then for the first
time since he had seen her, was alive again to the rigors
of his own predicament.
" I'm awfully sorry," he stammered helplessly*
" Don't you think you can stand on it ? "
He offered her his hand and shoulder and she bravely
tried to rise, but the effort cost her pain and with a
little cry she sank back in the leaves, her face buried in
her arms. She seemed so small, so helpless that his heart
was filled with a very genuine pity. She was not crying
now, but the hand which held her moist handkerchief was
THE SILENT BATTLE
so tightly clenched that her knuckles were outlined in
white against the tan. He watched her a moment in
silence, his mind working rapidly.
" Come," he said at last in quick cheerful notes of
decision. " This won't do at all. We've got to get
out of here. You must take that shoe off. Then we'll
get you over yonder and you can bathe it in the stream.
Try and get your gaiter off, too, won't you ? "
His peremptory accents startled her a little, but she
sat up obediently while he supported her shoulders, and
wincing again as she moved, at last undid her legging.
Gallatin then drew his hasp-knife and carefully slit the
laces of her shoe from top to bottom, succeeding in getting
it safely off.
" Your ankle is swelling," he said. " You must bathe
it at once."
She looked around helplessly.
"Where?"
" At the stream. I'm going to carry you there."
" You couldn't. Is it far?"
" No. Only a hundred yards or so. Come along."
He bent over to silence her protests and lifted her by
the armpits. Then while she supported herself for a mo-
ment upright, lifted her in his arms and made his way up
the slope.
Marvelous is the recuperative power of the muscular
system! Ten minutes ago Gallatin had been, to all in-
tents and purposes of practical utility, at the point of
exhaustion. Now, without heart-breaking effort, he found
it possible to carry a burden of one hundred and thirty
pounds a considerable distance through rough timber
without mishap! His muscles ached no more than they
had done before, and the only thing he could think of just
8
LOST
then was that she was absurdly slender to weigh so much.
One of her arms encircled his shoulders and the fingers
of one small brown hand clutched tightly at the collar of
his shirt. Her eyes peered before her into the brush,
and her face was almost hidden by the tangled mass of
her hair. But into the pale cheek which was just visible,
a gentle color was rising which matched the rosy glow
that was spreading over the heavens.
" I'm afraid I I'm awfully heavy," she said, as he
made his way around the fallen giant over which a short
while ago they had both clambered. " Don't you think I
had better get down for a moment? "
" Oh, no," he panted. " Not at all. It it isn't far
now. I'm afraid you'd hurt your foot. Does it does it
pain you so much now? "
" N-o, I think not," she murmured bravely. " But
I'm afraid you're dreadfully tired."
" N-not at all," he stammered. " We'll be there soon
now."
When he came to the spot he had marked for his
camp, he bore to the right and in a moment they had
reached the stream which gushed musically among the
boulders, half hidden in the underbrush. It was not until
he had carefully chosen a place for her that he consented
to put her on the ground. Then with a knee on the bank
and a foot in the stream, he lowered her gently to a mossy
bank within reach of the water.
" You're very kind," she whispered, her cheeks flam-
ing as she looked up at him. " I'm awfully sorry."
" Nothing of the sort," he laughed. " I'd have let
you carry me if you could." And then, with the hurried
air of a man who has much to do : " You take off your
stocking and dangle your foot in the water. Wiggle
9
THE SILENT BATTLE
your toes if you can and then try to rub the blood into
your ankle. I'm going to build a fire and cook some fish.
Are you hungry? "
" I don't know. I I think I am."
" Good ! " he said smiling pleasantly. " We'll have
supper in a minute."
He was turning to go, when she questioned : " You
spoke of a camp. Is is it near here? "
" N-o. It isn't," he hesitated, " but it soon will be."
" I'm afraid I don't understand."
He laughed. " Well, you see, the fact of the matter
is, I'm lost, too. I don't think it's anything to be very
much frightened about, though. I left my guide early
this morning at the fork of two streams a pretty long dis-
tance from here. I've been walking hard all day. I
fished up one of the streams for half of the day and
then cut across through the forest where I thought I
would find it again. I found a stream but it seems
it wasn't the same one, for after I had gone down it for
an hour or so I didn't seem to get anywhere. Then I
plunged around hunting and at last had to give it up."
" Don't you think you could find it again? "
"Oh, I think so," confidently. "But not to-night.
I'm afraid you'll have to put up with what I can offer
you."
" Of course and I'm very grateful but I'm sorry to
be such a burden to you."
" Oh, that's nonsense." He turned away abruptly
and made his way up the bank. " I'm right here in the
trees and I can hear you. So if I can help you I want
you to call."
" Thank you," she said quietly, " I will."
10
II
BABES IN THE WOODS
GALLATIN'S responsibilities to his Creator had
been multiplied by two.
Less than an hour ago he had dropped his
rod and creel more than half convinced that it didn't
matter to him or to anybody else whether he got back
to Joe Keegon or not. Now, he suddenly found himself
hustling busily in the underbrush, newly alive to the exi-
gencies of the occasion, surprised even at the fact that
he could take so extraordinary an interest in the mere
building of a fire. Back and forth from the glade to the
deep woods he hurried, bringing dry leaves, twigs, and
timber. These he piled against a fallen tree in the lee
of the spot he had chosen for his shelter and in a moment
a fire was going. Many things bothered him. He had no
axe and the blade of his hasp-knife was hardly suited to
the task he found before him. If his hands were not so
tender as they had been a month ago, and if into his
faculties a glimmering of woodcraft had found its way,
the fact remained that this blade, his Colt, fishing-rod
and his wits (such as they were), were all that he pos-
sessed in the uneven match against the forces of Nature.
Something of the calm ruthlessness of the mighty wilder-
ness came to him at this moment. The immutable trees
rose before him as symbols of a merciless creed which all
the forces around him uttered with the terrible eloquence
of silence. He was an intruder from an alien land, of
no importance in the changeless scheme of things less
11
THE SILENT BATTLE
important than the squirrel which peeped at him slyly
from the branch above his head or the chickadee which
piped flutelike in the thicket. The playfellow of his
strange summer had become his enemy, only jocular and
ironical as yet, but still an enemy, with which he must
do battle with what weapons he could find.
It was the first time in his life that he had been placed
in a position of complete dependence upon his own efforts
the first time another had been dependent on him.
He and Joe had traveled light; for this, he had learned,
was the way to play the game fairly. Nevertheless, he
had a guilty feeling that until the present moment he had
modified his city methods only so far as was necessary
to suit the conditions the man of the wilderness had im-
posed upon him and that Joe, after all, had done the
work. He realized now that he was fronting primeval
forces with a naked soul as naked and almost as helpless
as on the day when he had been born. It seemed that the
capital of his manhood was now for the first time to be
drawn upon in a hazardous venture, the outcome of
which was to depend upon his own ingenuity and resource-
fulness alone.
And yet the fire was sparkling merrily.
He eyed the blade in his hand as he finished making
two roof supports and sighed for Joe Keegon's little axe.
His hands were red and blistered already and the lean-to
only begun. There were still the boughs and birchbark
for a roof and the cedar twigs for a bed to be cut. He
worked steadily, but it was an hour before he found time
to go down to the stream to see how his fugitive fared. She
was still sitting as he had left her, on the bank of the
stream, gazing into the depths of the pool.
" How are you getting on? " he asked.
"I I'm all right," she murmured.
BABES IN THE WOODS
"Is the ankle any better? I think I'd better be
getting you up to the fire now. Perhaps, you'd be willing
to cook the fish while I hustle for twigs."
"Of of course."
He noticed the catch in her voice, and when he came
near her discovered that she was trembling from head to
foot.
"Are you suffering still?" he questioned anxiously.
" N-no, not so much. But I I'm very cold."
" That's too bad. We'll have you all right in a min-
ute. Put your arms around my neck. So." And bend-
ing over, with care for her injured foot, he lifted her again
in his arms and carried her up the hill. This time she
yielded without a word, nor did she speak until he had put
her down on his coat before the fire.
" I don't know how to thank you " she began.
" Then don't. Put your foot out toward the blaze
and rub it again. You're not so cold now, are you? "
" No no. I think it's just n-ncrvousness that
makes me shiver," she sighed softly. " I never knew
what a fire meant before. It's awfully good the
w-warmth of it."
He watched her curiously. The fire was bringing a
warm tint to her cheeks and scarlet was making more de-
cisive the lines of her well-modeled lips. It did not take
Gallatin long to decide that it was very agreeable to look
at her. As he paused, she glanced up at him and caught
the end of his gaze, which was more intense in its direct-
ness than he had meant it to be, and bent her head quickly
toward the fire, her lips drawn more firmly together a
second acknowledgment of her sense of the situation, a
manifestation of her convincing femininity which con-
firmed a previous impression.
There was quick refuge in the practical.
13
THE SILENT BATTLE
" I'm going to clean the fish," he said carelessly, and
turned away.
" I'd like to help, if I could," she murmured.
" You'd better nurse your ankle for a while," he said.
" It's much better now," she put in. " I can move it
without much pain." She thrust her stockinged foot
farther toward the blaze and worked the toes slowly up
and down, but as she did so she flinched again. " I'm not
of much use, am I? " she asked ruefully. " But while
you're doing other things, I might prepare the fish."
" Oh, no. I'll do that. Let's see. We need some
sticks to spit them on."
" Let me make them ; " she put her hand into the
pocket of her dress and drew forth a knife. " You see
I can help."
" Great ! " he cried delightedly. " You haven't got
a teapot, a frying-pan, some cups and forks and spoons
hidden anywhere have you? "
She looked up at him and laughed for the first time,
a fine generous laugh which established at once a new re-
lationship between them.
" No I haven't but I've a saucepan."
"Where?" in amazement.
" Tied to my creel over there," and she pointed,
41 and a small package of tea and some biscuits. I take
my own lunch when I fish. I didn't eat any to-day."
" Wonderful ! A saucepan ! I was wondering how
tied to your creel, you say? " and he started off rapidly
in the direction of the spot where he had found her.
"And please b-bring my rod and and my shoe,"
she cried.
He nodded and was off through the brush, finding the
place without difficulty. It was a very tiny saucepan,
which would hold at the most two cupfuls of liquid, but it
BABES IN THE WOODS
would serve. He hurried back eagerly, anxious to com-
plete his arrangements for the meal, and found her
propped up against the back log, his creel beside her, in-
dustriously preparing the fish.
" How did you get over there? " he asked.
" Crawled. I couldn't abide just sitting. I feel a
lot better already."
" That was very imprudent," he said quickly. " We'll
never get out of here until you can use that foot."
"Oh! I hadn't thought of that," demurely. "I'll
try to be careful. Did you bring my shoe and leg-
ging? "
He held them out for her inspection.
" You'd better not try to put them on not to-night,
anyway. To-morrow, perhaps "
" To-morrow ! " She looked up at him, and then at the
frames of the lean-to, as though the thought that she must
spend the night in the woods had for the first time oc-
curred to her. A deep purple shadow was crawling
slowly up from the eastward and only the very tops of
the tallest trees above them were catching the warm light
of the declining sun. The woods were dimmer now and
distant trees which a moment ago had been visible were
merged in shadow. Some of the birds, too, were begin-
ning to trill their even-song.
" Yes," he went on, " you see it's getting late. There's
hardly a chance of any one finding us to-night. But we're
going to make out nicely. If you really insist on cleaning
those fish "
" I do and on making- some tea "
" Then I must get the stuff for your bed before it's
too dark to see."
He filled the saucepan with water at the stream, then
turned back into the woods for the cedar twigs.
15
THE SILENT BATTLE
" The bed comes first," he muttered to himself.
" That's what Joe would say. There's caribou moss up
on the slope and the balsam is handy. It isn't going to
rain to-night, but I'll try to build a shelter anyway
boughs now and canoe birches to-morrow, if I can find
any. But I've got to hustle."
Six pilgrimages he made into the woods, bringing back
each time armloads of boughs and twigs. He was con-
scious presently of a delicious odor of cooking food; and
long before he had brought in his last armful, she pleaded
with him to come and eat. But he only shook his head
and plunged again into the bushes. It was almost dark
when he finished and threw the last load on the pile he
had made. When he approached he found her sitting mo-
tionless, watching him, both creels beside her, her hand
holding up to the fire a stick which stuck through the
fish she had cooked. The saucepan was simmering in the
ashes.
" How do they taste? " he asked cheerfully.
" I haven't eaten any."
"Why not?"
" I was waiting for you."
" Oh, you mustn't do that," sharply. " I didn't want
you to wait."
" You know," she interrupted, " I'm your guest."
" I didn't know it," he laughed. " I thought I was
yours. It's your saucepan "
" But your fish " she added, and then indicating a lit-
tle mischievously, " except that biggest one which was
mine. But I'm afraid they'll be cold I've waited so
long. You must eat at once, you're awfully tired."
" Oh, no, I've still got a lot to do. I'll just take a
bite and "
" Please sit down you must , really."
16
WOODS
Her fingers touched the sleeve of his shirt and he
yielded, sinking beside her with an unconscious sigh of
relaxation which was more like a groan. He was dead-
tired how tired he had not known until he had yielded.
She saw the haggard look in his eyes and the lines which
the firelight was drawing around his cheek-bones, and at
the corners of his mouth ; and it came to her suddenly that
he might not be so strong as she had thought him. If
he was an invalid from the South, the burden of carrying
her through the woods might easily have taxed his
strength. She examined his face critically for a moment,
and then fumbling quickly in the pocket of her dress
drew forth a small, new-looking flask, which gleamed
brightly in the firelight.
" Here," she said kindly, " take some of this, it will
do you good."
Gallatin followed her motion wearily. Her hand had
even reached the cap of the bottle and had given it a pre-
paratory twist before he understood what it all meant.
Then he started suddenly upright and put his fingers over
hers.
" No ! " he muttered huskily. " Not that I I don't
I won't have anything thank you."
And as she watched his lowering brows and tightly
drawn lips puzzled and not a little curious, he stumbled
to his feet and hurriedly replaced a log which had
fallen from the fire. But when a moment later he re-
turned to his place, his features bore no signs of discom-
posure.
" I think I'm only hungry," he mumbled.
She unhooked the largest fish from the stick and
handed it to him daintily.
" There, that's yours. I've been saving it for you
just to convince you that I'm the better fisherman."
17
THE SILENT BATTLE
" I don't doubt it," he said soberly. " I'm a good deal
of a duffer at this game."
" But then," she put in generously, " you caught more
than I did, and that evens matters."
They had begun eating now, and in a moment it seemed
that food was the only thing they had lacked. As be-
came two healthy young animals, they ate ravenously of
the biscuits she had carried and all of the fish she had
prepared, and then Gallatin cooked more. The girl re-
moved the metal cup from the bottom of her flask and
taking turn and turn about with the tiny vessel they
drank the steaming tea. In this familiar act they seemed
to have reached at once a definite and satisfactory under-
standing. Gallatin was thankful for that, and he was
careful to put her still further at her ease by a some-
what obtrusive air of indifference. She repaid him for
this consideration by the frankness of her smile. He ex-
amined her furtively when he could and was conscious
that when his face was turned in profile, she, too, was
studying him anxiously, as only a woman in such a situa-
tion might. Whatever it was that she learned was not un-
pleasing to her, for, as he raised his hand to carry the tea
to his lips, her voice was raised in a different tone.
" Your hands ! " she said. " They're all cut and
bleeding."
He glanced at his broken knuckles impersonally.
" Are they? I hadn't noticed before. You see, I
hadn't any hatchet."
" Won't you let me hadn't you better bathe them in
the water? "
" A bath wouldn't hurt them, would it? "
" I didn't mean that. Don't they hurt? "
" No, not at all. But I wish I had Joe's axe."
"Who's Joe?"
18
BABES IN THE WOODS
" My guide."
" Oh."
She questioned no further; for here, she realized in-
stinctively, were the ends of the essential, the beginnings
of the personal. And so the conversation quickly turned
to practical considerations. Of one thing she was now
assured her companion was a gentleman. What kind
of a gentleman she had not guessed, for there were many
kinds, she had discovered; but there was nothing un-
duly alarming in his manner or appearance and she con-
cluded for the present to accept him, with reservations,
upon his face value.
His body fed, Gallatin felt singularly comfortable.
The problems that had hung so thickly around his head
'a while ago, were going up with the smoke of the fire.
Here were meat, drink and society. Were not these, after
all, the end and aim of human existence? Had the hoary
earth with all its vast treasures ever been able to produce
more? He took his pouch from his pocket, and asking
if he might smoke, lit his pipe with a coal from the fire
(for matches were precious) and sank back at the girl's
feet. The time for confidences, were there to be any,
had arrived. She felt it in the sudden stoppage of the
desultory flow of comment and in the polite, if appraising
steadiness of his gaze.
" I suppose you have a right to know what I'm doing
here," she said flushing a little, " but there isn't anything
to tell. I left our camp as you did, to fish. I've done
it before, often. Sometimes alone sometimes with a
party. I I wasn't alone this morning and I I " she
hesitated, frowning. " It doesn't matter in the least
about that, of course," she went on quickly. " I I got
separated from my my companion and went farther into
the brush than I had intended to do. When I found that
19
THE SILENT BATTLE
I had lost my way, I called again and again. Nobody
answered. Then something happened to me, I don't know
what. I think it must have been the sound of the echoes
of my own voice that frightened me, for suddenly I seemed
to go mad with terror. After that I don't remember
anything, except that I felt I must reach the end of the
woods, so that I could see beyond the barrier of trees
which seemed to be closing in about me like living things.
It was frightful. I only knew that I went on and on
until I saw you. And after that " her words were slow-
er, her voice dropped a note and then stopped altogether
" and that is all," she finished.
" It's enough, God knows," he said, sitting upright.
" You must have suffered."
" I did I wonder what got into me. I've never been
frightened in the woods before." She turned her head
over her shoulder and peered into the shadows. " I don't
seem to be frightened now."
" I'm glad. I'm going to try to make you forget that.
You're in no danger here. To-morrow I'll try to find my
back trail or Joe Keegon may follow mine. In the
meanwhile " and he started to his feet, " I've got a lot
to do. Just sit quietly there and nurse your ankle while
I make your bed. And if I don't make it properly, the
way you're used to having it, just tell me. Won't you? "
" Hair, please, with linen sheets, and a down pillow,"
she enjoined.
" I'll try," he said with a laugh, for he knew now that
the tone she used was only a cloak to hide the shrinking
of her spirit. She sat as he had commanded, leaning as
comfortably as she could against the tree trunk, watching
his dim figure as it moved back and forth among the
shadows. First he trod upon and scraped the ground,
picking up small stones and twigs and throwing them into
20
BABES IN THE WOODS
the darkness until he had cleared a level spot. Then
piece by piece he laid the caribou moss as evenly as he
could. He had seen Joe do this some days ago when
they had made their three-day camp. The cedar came
next ; and, beginning at the foot and laying the twig ends
upward, he advanced to the head, a layer at a time, thus
successively covering the stub ends and making a soft
and level couch. When it was finished, he lay on it,
and made some slight adjustments.
" I'm sorry it's not a pneumatic and about the
blankets but I'm afraid it will have to do."
" It looks beautiful," she assented, " and I hate pneu-
matics. I'll be quite warm enough, I'm sure."
To make the matter of warmth more certain, he
pitched two of the biggest logs on the flames, and then
made a rough thatch of the larger boughs over the
supports that he had set in position. When he had fin-
ished, he stood before her smiling.
" There's nothing left, I think but to get to bed.
I'm going off for enough firewood to last us until morn-
ing. Shall I carry you over now or "
" Oh, I think I can manage," she said, her lips drop-
ping demurely. " I did before while you were away,
you know." She straightened and her brows drew to-
gether. " What I'm puzzled about now is about you.
Where are you going to sleep? "
" Me? That's easy. Out here by the fire."
"Oh!" she said thoughtfully.
Ill
VOICES
DRAGGING his lagging feet, Gallatin struggled
on until his task was finished. He took the sauce-
pan and cup to the stream, washed them carefully,
and filled them with water. Then he untied the handker-
chief from around his neck and washed that, too. When
he got back to the fire, he found the girl lying on the
couch, her head pillowed on her arm, her eyes gazing into
the fire.
" I've brought some water. I thought you might like
to wash your face," he said.
"Thanks," gratefully. "You're very thoughtful."
He mended the fire for the night, and waiting until
she had finished her impromptu toilet, took the saucepan
to the stream and rinsed it again. Then he cleared the
remains of the fish away, hung the creels together on the
limb of a tree and, without looking toward the shelter,
threw himself down beside the fire, utterly exhausted.
" Good night," she said. He turned his head toward
her. The firelight was dancing in her eyes, which were as
wide open as his own.
" Good night," he said pleasantly, " and pleasant
dreams."
" I don't seem to be a bit sleepy are you? "
" No, not yet. Aren't you comfortable? "
"Oh, yes. It isn't that. I think I'm too tired to
sleep."
VOICES
He changed his position a little to ease his joints.
" I believe I am, too," he smiled. " You'd better
try though. You've had a bad day."
" I will. Good night."
" Good night."
But try as he might, he could not sleep. Each par-
ticular muscle was clamoring in indignant protest at its
unaccustomed usage. The ground, too, he was forced
to admit was not as soft as it might have been, and he
was sure from the way his hip bone ached, that it was
on the point of coming through his flesh. He raised his
body and removed a small flat stone which had been the
cause of the discomfort. As he did so he heard her voice
again.
" You're dreadfully unhappy. I don't see why :
" Oh, no, I'm not. This is fine. Please go to sleep."
" I can't. Why didn't you make another bed for
yourself? "
" I didn't think about it," he said, wondering now why
the thought had never occurred to him. " You see," he
lied cautiously, " I'm used to this sort of thing. I sleep
this way very often. I like it."
"Oh!"
What an expressive interjection it was as she used it.
It ran a soft arpeggio lip the scale of her voice and down
again, in curiosity rather than surprise, in protest rather
than acquiescence. This time it was mildly skeptical.
" It's true really. I like it here. Now I insist that
you go to sleep."
" If you use that tone, I suppose I must." She closed
her eyes,- settled one soft cheek against the palm of her
hand.
" Good night," she said again-
" Good night," he repeated.
23,
THE SILENT BATTLE
Gallatin turned away from her so that she might not
see his face and lay again at full length with his head pil-
lowed on his arms, looking into the fire. His mental fac-
ulties were keenly alive, more perhaps by reason of the
silence and physical inaction than they had been at any
time during the day. Never in his life before, it seemed,
had he been so broadly awake. His mind flitted with
meddlesome agility from one thought to another; and
so before he had lain long, he was aware that he was
entirely at the mercy of his imagination.
One by one the pictures emerged the girl's flight, the
wild disorder of her appearance, her slender figure lying
helpless in the leaves, the pathos of her streaming eyes,
and the diminutive proportions of her slender foot. It
was curious, too, how completely his own difficulties and
discomforts had been forgotten in the mitigation of hers.
Their situation he was forced to admit was not as satis-
factory as his confident words of assurance had promised.
He had not forgotten that most of his back-trail had
been laid in water, and it was not to be expected that
Joe Keegon could perform the impossible. Their getting
out by the way he had come must largely depend upon
his own efforts in finding the spot up-stream where he had
come through. The help that could be expected from her
own people was also problematical. She had come a long
distance. That was apparent from the condition of her
gaiters. For all Gallatin knew, her camp nrght be ten,
or even fifteen miles away. Something more than a mild
curiosity possessed him as to this camp and the people
who were using it ; for there was a mystery in her sudden
separation from the " companion " to whom she had so
haltingly and vaguely alluded.
It was none of his business, of course, who this girl
was or where she came from; he was aware, at this mo-
24
VOICES
ment of vagrant visions, of an unequivocal and not un-
pleasant interest in this hapless waif whom fortune, with
more humor than discretion, had so unceremoniously
thrust upon his mercies. She was very good to look at.
He had decided that back in the gorge where she had
first raised her elfin head from the leaves. And yet, now
as he lay there in the dark, he could not for the life of
him guess even at the color of her eyes or hair. Her hair
at first had seemed quite dark until a shaft of the declin-
ing light in the west had caught it, when he had decided
that it was golden. Her eyes had been too light to be
brown and yet yes, they had been quite too dark to be
blue. The past perfect tense seemed to be the only one
which suited her, for in spite of the evidences of her
tangibility close at hand, he still associated her with the
wild things of the forest, the timid things one often heard
at night but seldom glimpsed by day. Cautiously he
turned his head and looked into the shelter. She lay
as he had seen her last, her eyes closed, her breath scarcely
stirring her slender body. Her knees were huddled under
her skirt and she looked no larger than a child. He re-
membered that when she had stood upright she had been
almost as tall as he, and this metamorphosis only added
another to the number of his illusions.
With an effort, at last, he lowered his head and closed
his eyes, in angry determination. What the devil had
the troubles of this unfortunate female to do with him?
What difference did it make to him if her hair and eyes
changed color or that she could become grown up or child-
ish at will? Wasn't one fool who lost himself in the
woods enough in all conscience! Besides lie had a right
to get himself lost if he wanted to. He was his own mas-
ter and it didn't matter to any one but himself what be-
came of him. Why couldn't the little idiot have stayed
as
THE SILENT BATTLE
where she belonged? A woman had no business in the
woods, anyway.
With his eyes closed it was easy to shut out sight, but
the voices of the night persisted. An owl called, and far
off in the distance a solitary mournful loon took up the
plaint. There were sounds close at hand, too, stealthy
footfalls of minute paws, sniffs from the impertinent noses
of smaller animals ; the downward fluttering of leaves and
twigs all magnified a thousandfold, pricked upon the vel-
vety background of the vast silence. He tried to relax
his muscles and tipped his head back upon the ground.
As he did so his lids flew up like those of a doll laid upon
its back. The moon was climbing now, so close to the
tree tops that the leaves and branches looked like painted
scrolls upon its surface. In the thicket shapes were
moving. They were only the tossing shadows from fois
fire, he knew, but they interested him and he watched them
for a long time. It pleased him to think of them as the
shadows of lost travelers. He could hear them whisper-
ing softly, too, in the intervals between the other sounds,
and in the distance, farther even than the call of the whip-
poorwill, he could hear them singing:
^
A la claire fontaine
M'en allant promener
J'ai trouve 1'eau si belle
Que je m'y suis baigne
II y a longtemps que le t'aime
Jamais je ne t'oublierai.
The sound of the rapids, too, or was it only the tinkle
of the stream?
He raised his head and peered around him to right and
left. As he did so a voice joined the lesser voices, its
26
VOICES
suddenness breaking the stillness like the impact of a
blow.
" Aren't you asleep ? " She lay as he had seen her
before, with her cheek pillowed upon her hand, but the
firelight danced in her wide-open eyes.
" No," he said, straightening slowly. " I don't seem
to be sleepy."
" Neither am I. Did you hear them the voices ? "
"Yes," in surprise. "Did you? You're not fright-
ened at all, are you? "
" Not at the voices. Other things seem to bother me
much more. The little sounds close at hand, I can under-
stand, too. There was a four-legged thing out there
where you threw the fish offal a while ago. But you didn't
see him "
" I heard him but he won't bother us."
" No. I'm not frightened not at that."
"At what, then?"
" I don't I don't think I really know."
" There's nothing to be frightened at."
" It it's just that I'm frightened at nothing noth-
ing at all."
A pause.
" I wish you'd go to sleep."
" I suppose I shall after a while."
" How is your foot ? "
" Oh, better. I'm not conscious of it at all. It isn't
my foot that keeps me awake. It's the hush of the
stillnesses between the other sounds," she whispered, as
though the silence might hear her. " You never get those
distinctions sleeping in a tent. I don't tMnk I've ever
really known the woods before or the meaning of silence.
The world is poised in space holding its breath on the
brink of some awful abyss. So I can't help holding mine,
too."
27
I
THE SILENT BATTLE
She sat upright and faced him.
"You don't mind if I talk, do you? I suppose
you'll think I'm very cowardly and foolish, but I want to
hear a human voice. It makes things real somehow "
" Of course," he laughed. He took out his watch and
held it toward the fire with a practical air. " Besides its
only ten o'clock."
" Oh," she sighed, " I thought it was almost morn-
ing."
He silently rose and kicked the fire into a blaze.
*' It's too bad you're so nervous."
" That's it. I'm glad you called it by a name. I'm
glad you looked at your watch and that you kicked the
fire. I had almost forgotten that there were such things
as watches. I seem to have been poised in space, too,
waiting and listening for something I don't know what
as though I had asked a great question which must in
some way be answered."
Gallatin glanced at her silently, then slowly took out
his pipe and tobacco.
" Let's talk," he said quietly.
But instead of taking his old place beside the fire,
he sank at the foot of one of the young beech trees that
formed a part of the structure of her shelter near the head
of her balsam bed.
" I know what you mean," he said soothingly. " I
felt it, too. The trouble is there's never any answer.
They'd like to tell us many things those people out
there," and he waved his hand. " They'd like to, but they
can't. It's a pity, isn't it? The sounds are cheerful,
though. They say they're the voyagers singing as they
shoot the rapids."
She watched his face narrowly, not doubtfully as she
28
VOICES
had done earlier, but eagerly, as though seeking the other
half of a thought which conformed to her own.
" I'm glad you heard," she said quickly. " I thought
I must have dreamed which would have been strange,
since I haven't been asleep. It gives me a greater faith
in myself. I haven't been really frightened, I hope. Only
filled with wonder that such things could be."
" They can't really, you know," he drawled. " Some
people never hear the voices."
" I never did before."
" The woods people hear them often. It means,"
he said with a smile, " that you and I are initiated into the
Immortal Fellowship."
" Oh ! " in a whisper, almost of awe.
" Yes," he reassured her gaily, " you belong to the
Clan of Mak-wa, the Bear, and Kee-way-din, the North-
Wind. The trees are keeping watch. Nothing can harm
you now."
Her eyes lifted to his, and a hesitating smile suddenly
wreathed her lips.
" You're very comforting," she said, in a doubtful tone
which showed her far from comforted. " I really would
try to believe you," with a glance over her shoulder, " if
it wasn't for the menace of the silence when the voices
stop."
" The menace "
'* Yes. I can't explain. It's like a sudden hush of
terror as though the pulse of Nature had stopped beat-
ing was waiting on some immortal decision."
" Yes," he assented quietly, his gaze on the fire. " I
know. I felt that, too."
"Did you? I'm glad. It makes me more satisfied."
She was sitting up on her bed of twigs now, leaning
29
THE SILENT BATTLE
toward him, her eyes alight with a strange excitement,
her body leaning toward his own, as she listened. The
firelight danced upon her hair and lit her face with a
weird, wild beauty. She was very near him at that mo-
ment spiritually physically. In a gush of pity he put
his hand over hers and held it tightly in his own, his
voice reassuring her gently.
" No harm can come to you here, child. Don't you
understand? There are no voices but yours and mine.
See! The woods are filled with moonlight. It is as
bright as day."
She had put one arm before her eyes as though by
physical effort to obliterate the fancies that possessed
her. Her hand was ice-cold and her fingers unconsciously
groped in his, seeking strength in his warm clasp. With
an effort she raised her head and looked more calmly
into the shadows.
" No, there are no voices now," she repeated. " I
am foolish." And then aware of his fingers still holding
hers, she withdrew her hand abruptly and straightened
her slender figure. " I I'm all right, I think."
He straightened slowly, and his matter of fact tone
reassured her.
" I didn't know you were really frightened or I
shouldn't have spoken so. I'm sorry."
" But you heard," she persisted.
Gallatin took up his pipe and put it in his mouth be-
fore he replied.
" The wilderness is no place for nerves or imagina-
tions. It seems that you have the one and I the other.
There were no sounds."
"What did I hear then?"
' The stream and the leaves overhead. I'd rathei;
prove it to you by daylight."
30
VOICES
" Will the day never come? "
" Oh, yes. I suppose so. It usually does."
There was no smile on his lips and another note in his
voice caused her to look at him keenly. The bowl of his
pipe had dropped and his gaze was fixed upon the fire. It
was a new and distinct impression that he made upon her
now a not altogether pleasant one. Until a moment
ago, he had been merely a man in the woods a kindly
person of intelligence with a talent for the building of
balsam beds ; in the last few minutes he had developed an
outline, a quite too visible personality, and instinctively
she withdrew from the contact.
" I think I can sleep now," she said.
He understood. His place was at the fireside and he
took it without reluctance, aware of a sense of self-re-
proach. It had been her privilege to be a fool but not
his. He threw a careless glance at her over his shoulder.
" If you're still timid, I'll sit up and watch."
" No, you mustn't do that." But by this time he
had taken another coal for his pipe and sitting, Indian-
fashion, was calmly puffing.
" I'm going to, anyway," he said. " Don't bother
about me, please."
Without reply she stretched herself on the couch and
disposed herself again to sleep. This time she buried her
head in her arms and lay immovable. He knew that she
was not asleep and that she was still listening for the
menace of the silences; but he knew, too, that if suffer
she must, he could not help her. A moment ago he had
been on the point of taking her in his arms and soothing
her as he would have done a child. They had been very
close in spirit at that moment, drawn together like two
vessels alone in a calm waste of water. It was the appeal
31
THE SILENT BATTLE
of her helplessness to his strength, his strength to her
helplessness, of course, and yet
For a long while Gallatin watched the flames as they
rose and fell and the column of smoke that drifted upward
on the still night air and lost itself among the leaves over-
head. The voices he heard no more. The fire crackled,
a vagrant breeze sighed, a bird called somewhere, but he
realized that he was listening for another sound. The
girl had not moved since he had last spoken, and now he
heard the rhythmic breathing which told him that at
last she was asleep. He waited some moments more, then
softly arose, took up his coat, which he had thrown over
a log, and laid it gently over her shoulders. Then he
crept back to his fire.
IV
EDEN
DAWN stalked solemnly forth and the heavens were
rosy with light. Gallatin stirred uneasily, then
raised his head stiffly, peered around and with
difficulty got himself into a sitting posture. Fire still
glowed in the chinks of the largest log, but the air was
chill. He took out his watch and looked at it, winding it
carefully. He had slept five hours, without moving.
He was now accustomed to the convention of awaking
early, with all his faculties keenly alive; and he rose to
his feet, rubbing the stiffness out of his limbs and back,
smiling joyously up at the gracious day. In the shelter,
her back toward the fire, her head hidden in her arms,
the girl still slept soundly. Cautiously Gallatin replen-
ished the fire, piling on the last of his wood. Save for a
little stiffness in his back, there were, it seemed, no pen-
alties to be imposed for his night in the open.
A shaft of sunlight shot across the topmost branches
of the trees, and instantly, as though at a signal, the woods
were alive with sound. There was a mad scampering
in the pine boughs above him, and a squirrel leapt into
the air, scurried through the branches of a maple and dis-
appeared; two tiny wrens engaged in a noisy discussion
about the family breakfast, a blue- jay screamed and a
woodpecker tattoed the call to the business of the day.
This, Gallatin knew, was meant for him. There was much
to be done, but he fell to with a will, his muscles eager
for the task, his mind cleared of the fogs of doubt and
33
THE SILENT BATTLE
speculation which had dimmed it the night before. There
were no problems he could not solve alone, no difficulties
his ingenuity could not surmount. The old blood of his
race, which years before had conquered this same wilder-
ness, or another one like it, surged new in his veins and
he rejoiced in the chance to test his strength against the
unhandselled matter which opposed him. The forest
smiled upon him, already gracious in defeat.
He returned to camp after a turn through the woods,
and in one hand was a clean sliver of birch-bark, filled
with blueberries. He put them safely in a hollow place
in the fallen tree, filled the saucepan with water and
placed it in the fire to boil. Then he cleaned fish.
He worked noiselessly, bringing more firewood, plenty
of which was still close at hand ; and after a glance at the
sleeping girl, he unsheathed his knife and went again into
the brush. There, after a search, he found what he was
looking for a straight young oak tree, about two inches
in diameter. He succeeded at last, with much pains and
care for his knife, in cutting it through and trimming
off the small branches. At the upper end of this club
was a V-shaped crotch, made by two strong forking
branches, which he cut and whittled until they were to
his liking. Returning to the fire, he emptied his fly-hook,
took his rod and unreeled a good length of line, which
he cut off and placed on the log beside him. Then with
the line, he bound the fly-hook, stuffed with caribou moss,
into the fork of his stick, wrapping the strong cord care-
fully until he had made a serviceable crutch. He was
hobbling around near the fire on it, testing its utility when
he heard a gasp of amazement. He had been so en-
grossed in his task that he had not thought of the object
of these attentions, and when he glanced toward the shel-
ter, she was sitting upright, regarding him curiously.
34
EDEN
" What on earth are you doing? "
He laughed gaylj.
" Good morning ! Hobbling, I believe. Don't I do it
nicely ? "
" You you've hurt yourself? "
He took the crutch from under his arm and looked
at it admiringly.
" Oh, no but you have."
"I! Oh, yes. I forgot. I don't think I'll need it at
all. I " She started up and tried to put her foot down
and then sank back in dismay. " It seems to still hurt
me a little," she said quietly.
" Of course it does. You don't get over that sort
of thing in a minute. It will be better when the blood
gets into it. Meanwhile," he handed her the stick, " you
must use this. Breakfast will be ready in a minute, so
if you feel like making a toilet "
" Oh, yes, of course," she glanced around her at the
patines of gold the sun had laid over the floor of their
breakfast-room and asked the time.
" Half past seven."
" Then I've slept "
" Nearly nine hours."
He started forward to help her to her feet and as he
did so, she saw his coat, which had fallen from her
shoulders.
" You shouldn't have given me your coat. You must
have frozen."
" On the contrary, I was quite comfortable. The
night was balmy besides, I was nearer the fire."
" I'm very much obliged," she said. After one or
two clumsy efforts she managed to master her crutch
and, refusing his aid, made her way to the stream without
difficulty.
THE SILENT BATTLE
Gallatin spitted the fish on the charred sticks of yes-
terday and held them up to the fire, his appetite pleasant-
ly assertive at the first delicious odor. When the girl
joined him a while later, all was ready, the last of the
tea darkening the simmering pot, the cooked fish lying in
a row on a flat stone in the fire.
As she hobbled up he rose and offered her a place
on the log beside him.
" I hope you're hungry. I am. Our menu is small
but most select blueberries Ojibway, trout saute, and
Bohea en casserole. The biscuits, I'm ashamed to say,
are no more."
She reflected his manner admirably. " Splendid ! I
fairly dote on blueberries. Where did you get them?
You're really a very wonderful person. For luncheon,
of course, cress and dandelion salad, fish and a venison
pasty. For dinner "
" Don't be too sure," he laughed. " Let's eat what
we've got and be thankful."
" I am thankful," she said, picking at the blueberries.
" I might have been still lying over there in the leaves."
She turned her face confidingly to his. " Do you know,
I thought you were a bear."
"Did you?"
" Until you pointed a pistol at me and then I
thought you were an Indian."
" I'm very sorry. I didn't know what you were I
don't think I quite know yet."
She took the cup of tea from his fingers before she
replied.
"I? Oh, I'm just just a girl. It doesn't matter
much who or what."
" I didn't mean to be inquisitive," he said quickly.
" But you were " she insisted.
36
EDEN
" Yes," he admitted, " I'm afraid I was."
" Names don't matter here, do they? The woods
are impersonal. Can't you and I be impersonal, too ? "
" I suppose so, but my curiosity is rather natural
under the circumstances."
" I don't intend to gratify it."
" Why not ? My name "
" Because I prefer not," she said firmly. And then :
" These fish are delicious. Some more tea, please ! "
He looked at her while she drank and then took the
cup from her hand without replying. Her chin he dis-
covered could fall very quickly into lines of determina-
tion. Her attitude amused him. She was, it seemed,
a person in the habit of having things her own way and
it even flattered him that she had discerned that he must
acquiesce.
" You shall have your own way," he laughed amusedly,
" but if I call you * Hey, there,' don't be surprised."
" I won't," she smiled.
When they had finished the last of the tea he got up,
washed the two dishes at the stream, and relit the ashes
of last night's pipe.
" The Committee of Ways and Means will now go into
executive session," he began. " I haven't the least idea
where we are. I may have traveled ten miles yesterday
or twenty. I've lost my bearings, that's sure, and so
have you. There are two things to do one of them is
to find our way out by ourselves and the other is to let
somebody find it for us. The first plan isn't feasible until
you are able to walk r
" I could manage with my crutch."
" No, I'm afraid that won't do. There's no use
starting off until we know where we're going."
" But you said you thought you could "
37
THE SILENT BATTLE
" I still think so," he put in quickly, noting the sud-
den anxious query in her eyes. " I'll find my back-trail,
but it may take time. Meanwhile you've got to eat, and
keep dry."
" It isn't going to rain."
" Not now, but it may any time. I'll get you com-
fortable here and then I'll take to the woods "
" And leave me alone ? "
" I'm afraid I'll have to. We have four fish remain-
ing little ones. Judging by my appetite they're not quite
enough for lunch and we must have more for supper."
" I'll catch them."
" No, you must rest to-day. I have my automatic,
too," he went on. " I'm not a bad shot. Perhaps, I may
bring some meat."
" But I can't stay here and do nothing."
" You can help fix the shack. I'll get the birch now."
He was moving off into the brush when she called him
back.
" I hope you didn't think me discourteous awhile ago.
I really didn't mean to be. You you've been very good.
I don't think I realized that we might have to be here
long. You understand under the circumstances, I
thought I'd rather not have you know anything about
me. It doesn't matter, really, I suppose."
" Oh, no, not at all," politely, and he went into the
underbrush, leaving her sitting at the fire. When he came
back with his first armful of canoe birches, she was still
sitting there ; but he went on gathering birch and firewood,
whistling cheerfully the while. She watched him for a
moment and then silently got up with the aid of her
crutch and reached for her rod and creel. She had hob-
bled past him before he realized her intention.
38
EDEN
" I wish you wouldn't," he protested.
" I must do my share "
(4
You'd do it better by saving your foot."
" I won't hurt my foot. I can use it a little now."
" If you slipped, things might go badly with you."
" I won't fall. I'm going down stream to get the fish
for lunch."
She adjusted her crutch and moved on. Her voice
was even gay, but there was no denying the quality of her
resolution. He shrugged his shoulders lightly and
watched her until she had disappeared in the bushes,
and when he had finished his tasks, he took up rod and
creel and followed the stream in the opposite direction.
Of course, she had every right to keep her identity a
secret, if she chose, but it annoyed him a little to think
that he had laid himself open even to so slight a rebuff.
Morning seemed to have made a difference in the rela-
tions, a difference he was as yet at some pains to define.
Last night he had been merely a chance protector, upon
whose hospitality she had been forced against her will and
he had done only what common humanity demanded of him.
The belief that her predicament was only temporary,
had for the time given her the assurance the situation re-
quired; but with the morning, which had failed to bring
aid she had expected from her people, her obligations to
him were increasing with the hours. If, as he had indi-
cated, it might be several days or even more before she
could find her way to camp, she must indeed expect to
find herself completely upon his mercies. Gallatin smiled
as he cast his line. With its other compensations day-
light had not brought him or his companion the pleasure
of an introduction ! Silly little fool ! Of what value were
introductions in the heart of the ancient wood or else-
39
THE SILENT BATTLE
where for that matter! No mere spoken words could
purge his heart or any man's ! Vaiii conventions ! The
hoary earth was mocking at them.
A swirl in the brown pool below him, a flash of light !
Gallatin swore softly. Two pounds and a half at least !
And he had lost him !
This wouldn't do. He was fishing for his dinner
now their dinner. He couldn't afford to make many
more mistakes like that not with another mouth to fill.
Why should he care who or what she was ! The Gallatius
had never been of a curious disposition and he wondered
that he should care anything about the identity of this
chance female thrown upon his protection. She was not
in any way unusual. He was quite sure that any morning
in New York he would have passed a hundred like her on
the street without a second glance. She had come with
the falling evening, wrapped in mystery and had shaken
his rather somber philosophy out of its bearings. Night
had not diminished the illusion; and once, when the spell
of the woods had held them for a moment in its- thrall,
he had been on the point of taking her in his arms. Did
she know how near she had been to that jeopardy? He
fancied so. That was why things were different to-day.
It was the sanity of nine o'clock in the morning, when
there was no firelight to throw shadows among the trees
and the voyageurs no longer sang among the rapids. In
an unguarded moment she had shown him a shadowed
corner of her spirit and was now resenting it. A woman's
chief business in life, he realized, was the hiding of her
own frailties, the sources of impulse and the repression of
unusual emotions. She had violated these canons of her
sex and justly feared that he might misinterpret her.
What could she know of him, what expect of a casual
stranger into whose arms her helpless plight had literally
40
EDEN
thrown her? He was forced to admit, at the last, that
to a modest woman the situation was trying.
He fished moodily, impatiently and unsuccessfully,
losing another fish in the pool above. Things were getting
serious. His mind now intent, he cast again farther up,
dropping the fly skillfully just above a tiny rapid. There
he was rewarded ; for a fish struck viciously, not so large
a one as the first, but large enough for one meal for his
companion at least. His spirits rose. He was at peace
again with the world, in the elysium of the true fisher
who has landed the first fish of the day.
A moment ago he had thought her commonplace. He
admitted now that he had been mistaken. A moment ago
he had been trying to localize her by the token of some
treacherous trick of speech or intonation and had almost
been ready to assign her to that limbo of all superior
indigenous New Yorkers " the West " ; now he was even
willing to admit that she was to all intents and purposes
a cosmopolitan. The sanity of nine o'clock in the morn-
ing had done away with all myth and moonshine, but day-
light had, it seemed, taken nothing from her elfin come-
liness. Her hair had at last decided to be brown, her eyes
a dark blue, her figure slim, her limbs well proportioned,
her motions graceful. Altogether she had detracted noth-
ing from the purely ornamental character of the land-
scape.
These few unimportant facts clearly established, Gal-
latin gave himself up more carefully to the business in
hand, and by the time he reached the head of the gorge,
had caught an even dozen. If fish were to serve them for
diet, they would not go hungry on this day at least. As
he went higher up into the hills he kept his eyes open
for the landmarks of yesterday. He remembered the
two big rocks in the gorge, and it surprised him that
41
THE SILENT BATTLE
they were no nearer to his camp. The task of finding
his back trail to Joe Keegon would be more difficult than
he had supposed, and he knew now that the point where
he had first fished this stream was many miles above.
But he saw no reason to be unduly alarmed. He had
served his apprenticeship; and with an axe and a frying
pan, a kettle, some flour, tea, and a tin cup or two, his
position would have had no terrors.
Beyond the gorge he had a shot at a deer and the
echoes derided him, for he missed it. He shot again at
smaller things and had the luck to bring down two squir-
rels; then realizing that his cartridges were precious,
made his way back to camp.
The girl was already at the fire, her crutch beside her
against the fallen log.
" I thought you were never coming." She smiled.
" I heard your shooting and it frightened me."
Gallatin held the squirrels out for her inspection.
" There ! " he said.
" Poor little things, what a pity ! They were all so
happy up there this morning."
" I'm afraid it can't be helped. We must eat, you
know. Did you have any luck? "
She opened her creel and showed him.
Again she had caught more than he.
He laughed delightedly. " From this moment you
are appointed Fish-wife Extraordinary. I fish no more.
When my cartridges are used I'll have nothing to do but
sit by the fire."
" Did you find your trail? " she asked anxiously.
" I followed it for a mile or so. I'm afraid I'll have
to start early to-morrow. I want to see you comfortable
first."
His manner was practical, but she did not fail to catch
42
EDEN
the note of uncertainty in his voice. She bent her gaze
on the ground, and spoke slowly.
" You're very kind to try to keep me in ignorance, but
I think I understand now. We will be here a long time."
" Oh, I didn't mean that. I don't think that," cheer-
fully. " If I were more experienced, I would promise to
find my own guide to-morrow. I'm going to do the best
I can. I won't come back here until I have to acknowl-
edge myself beaten. Meanwhile, many things may hap-
pen. Your people will surely "
" We are lost, both of us hopelessly," she persisted*
" The fish strike here as though these streams had never
been fished before. My people will find me, if they can;
if they can't I I must make the best of my position."
She spoke bravely, but there was a catch in her voice
that he had heard before.
" I'll do the best I can. I want you to believe that.
Three or four days at the most and I'm sure I can prom-
ise you "
" I'd rather you wouldn't promise," she said. " We'll
get out someway, of course, and if it wasn't for this pro-
voking foot "
"Isn't it better?"
" Oh, yes better. But, of course, I can't bear my
weight on it. It's so tiresome."
She seemed on the point of tears, and while he was
trying to think of something to say to console her, she
reached for her crutch and bravely rose.
" I'm not going to cry. I abominate whining women.
Give me something to do, and I won't trouble you with
tears."
" You're plucky, that's certain," he said admiringly.
" The lunch must be cooked. We'll save the squirrels for
supper. I'm going to work on your house. I'm afraid
43
THE SILENT BATTLE
there's no tea no real tea, but we might try arbor-vitae.
They say its palatable."
She insisted on cleaning the fish and preparing the
meal while he sat beside her and began sewing two rolls
of thick birch-bark together with white spruce-roots.
Between whiles she watched him with interest.
" I never heard of sewing a roof before," she said with
a smile.
" It's either sewing the roof or reaping the whirlwind,"
he laughed. " It may not rain before we get out of here,
but I think it's best not to take any chances. The woods
are not friendly when they're wet. Besides, I'd rather
not have any doctor's bills."
"That's not likely here," she laughed. "And the
lunch is ready," she announced.
All that afternoon he worked upon her shelter and by
sunset it was weather-tight. On three sides and top
it was covered with birches, and over the opening toward
the fire was a projecting eave which could be lowered over
one side as a protection from the wind. When he had
finished it he stood at one side and examined his handiwork
with an approving eye.
She had already thanked him many times.
" Of course, I don't know how to show my gratitude,"
she said again.
" Then don't try."
" But you can't sleep out again."
" Oh, yes, I can. I'm going to anyway."
"You mustn't."
He glanced up at her quizzically.
"Why not?"
" I want to take my share."
" I'm afraid you can't. That house is yours. You're
going to sleep there. I'm afraid you'll have to obey or-
44
EDEN
ders," he finished. " You see, I'm bigger than you are."
Her eyes measured his long limbs and her lips curved
in a crooked little smile.
" I don't like to obey orders."
" I'm afraid you must."
" You haven't any right to make yourself uncomfort-
able."
" Oh, yes, I have," he said. " Might is right in the
woods."
Something in the way he spoke caused her to examine
his face minutely, but his eyes were laughing at her.
" Oh ! " she said meekly.
WOMAN AND MAN
THERE were no voices in the woods that night, or
if there were any the girl in the lean-to did not
hear them. The sun had already found its way
past the protecting flap of her shack before she awoke.
The first thing she discovered was that at some time
during the night he had put his coat over her again. She
held it for a moment in her fingers thinking, before she
rose; then got up quickly and peered out. The morning
was chill, but the fire showed signs of recent attention and
on the saucepan which had been placed near the fire a
piece of birch-bark was lying. She picked it up curiously
to read a hastily pencilled scrawl:
" I'm off up country. I must go far, so don't be
frightened if I'm not back for supper. Be careful with
your foot and keep the fire going. There are fish and
firewood enough to last. Nothing can harm you. With
luck I'll bring my guide and duffel-bag."
She glanced quickly over her shoulder into the depths
of the pine-woods in the direction he must have taken as
though she hoped to see him walking there; then, the
birch-bark still in her hands, sat down on the log, read
the message over again, smiling. She had begun to un- 1
derstand this tall young man, with the grim, unshaven
face and somber, peering eyes. Those eyes had frightened
her at first; and even now the memory of them haunted
her until she recalled just what they did when he smiled,
46
WOMAN AND MAN
and then remembered that she was not to be frightened
any more.
He had been gone for several hours. She knew this by
the condition of the fire, but wondered why he had not
spoken more definitely about his plans the night before.
Possibly he had been afraid that she would not have slept.
She had slept, soundly, dreamlessly, and she found herself
wondering how she could have done so. The last thing
she could recall was looking out through sleepy eyes at
his profile as he sat motionless by the fire staring into
the shadows. She knew then that fear of him had passed
and that had she slept under a city roof she could not
have been more contented to sleep securely.
He would be gone all day, of course, and she must
depend upon her own exertions. First she filled the little
saucepan with water and put it between the two flat
stones that served for its hearth, and then took from
the creel two fish that he had cleaned the night before.
Half way to the fire she paused, her crutch in mid-air,
balancing herself safely without its aid. She peered to
right and left among the branches and then put the fish
back into the creel in quick decision.
A bath! She had been longing for it for two days!
Her resolution made, she took up her crutch and hobbled
down the stream, turning her head back over her shoulder
in the direction of the camp as if she still feared she
might have misread the birch-bark message. Warm with
expectancy and the delight of the venture, she found a
sheltered pool beneath the dense foliage and bathed her
lithe young body in the icy water. Gasping for breath
she splashed across the sandy pool and back again with
half uttered cries of delight ; and the Naiads and Oreads
flitted fearfully among the trees whispering and peering
cautiously at the slim white creature which had intruded
47
THE SILENT BATTLE
so fearlessly upon their secret preserves. The water was
cold ! Oh, so cold ! With one last plunge which set her
teeth chattering, the bather clambered up the bank into
the sunlight chilled to the bone, but glowing suddenly
with the swift rush of new blood along her rosy limbs.
Upright upon the bank she moved vigorously back and
forth, and releasing her hair, let it clothe and warm her,
while she stood drying, her face toward the sun. Apollo
looked with favor on this Clytie and sent his warmest rays
that she might not have gazed at him in vain.
A miracle had happened to her ankle, too, for she
moved quite without pain. Dressing and making her way
back to the fire, using her crutch only as a staff, she
gathered cedar by the way, for her morning tea. Her
mentor had made some of it for her the night before and
her lips twisted at the thought of drinking it again ; but
the essence of the woods, their balsam, their fragrance,
their elixir had permeated her and even this bitter physic
seemed palatable now. She remembered his couplet last
night :
A quart of arbor- vitae
To make you big and mighty.
At the fire she spitted her fish, leaning back against
the log, her hair drying in the sun and wind, the warm
fire bringing a warm glow throughout her body. She ate
and then stretched her arms toward the kindly trees. It
was good to be strong and young, with life just ripening.
At that moment it did not matter just what was to be-
come of her. She was sure that she no longer felt any
uneasiness as to the end of her adventure. Her guardian
had gone to find a way out. He would come back to-night.
In time she would go back to camp. She didn't care when
the present seemed sufficient.
48
WOMAN AND MAN
In all ways save one she had no mirror. She combed
her hair with her back comb and braided it carefully with
fingers long accustomed. Instinct demanded that she look
at her face; circumstance refused her the privilege, for
of Vanity Boxes she had none. And, when, like Narcissus,
she knelt at the brink of the pool and looked into its
depths, the water was full of iridescent wrinkles and she
only saw the mocking pebbles upon the bottom, having
not only her labor, but a wetting for her pains. But she
accepted the reproof calmly and finished her toilet
secundum naturam.
The larder was full, but she fished again up stream
this time, for evening might bring another mouth to feed.
The morning dragged wearily enough and she came back
to her fire early, with but four fish to her credit account.
She hung the creel in its accustomed place and resumed
her seat by the fire, her look moving restlessly from one
object to another. At last it fell upon his coat which
she had left on the couch in the shelter. She got up,
brought it forth into the light and brushed it carefully.
Several objects fell from its pockets a tobacco pouch
nearly empty, a disreputable and badly charred briar-
wood pipe and some papers. She picked up the objects
one by one and put them back. As she did so her eye
caught the superscription of a letter. She drew it forth
quickly and examined it again as though she had not been
certain that she had read it correctly; then the other
envelope, scanning them both eagerly. They were in-
scribed with the same name and address all written with
the same feminine scrawl, and the paper smelt of helio-
trope. She held them in her fingers a moment, her lips
compressed, her brow thoughtful and then abruptly thrust
them into the pocket again and put the coat into the
shelter.
49
THE SILENT BATTLE
She sat for a long while, her chin in her hand, looking
into the ashes of the fire. A cloud moved slowly across
the face of the sun, and its shadow darkened the glade.
A hush fell upon the trees as though all living things
had stopped to listen. The girl glanced at the sky and
saw that the heavens were dark with the portent of a
storm, when some new thought suddenly struck her, for
she rose quickly, her look moving from the shack to the
trees beside it, a pine and a maple tree, measuring the dis-
tance and the ground between them. Of one thing she
was now certain, another shelter must be built at once.
Her crutch in her hand she made her way into the
thicket, her small pearl handled knife clutched resolutely
in her palm, attacking vigorously the first straight limb
within reach. At the end of ten minutes she had cut
only half way through it, and her tender hands were red
and blistered. But she put her weight on the bough and
snapped it, cutting at last through the tough fibers and
dragging it into the open. Ten minutes more of cutting
at the twigs and her roof joist was in position. Her next
attempt was unfortunate; for she had hardly begun to
cut a notch in the branch she had selected, when the knife-
blade broke and the handle twisted in her hand, the
jagged edge cutting a gash in her thumb. She cried out
with pain, dropping the knife from trembling fingers. It
was not a serious wound, but the few drops of blood made
her think it so ; and, pale and a little frightened, she made
her way to the stream and dipped it into the cooling
water, bathing and bandaging it with her handkerchief.
She had learned something. The woods were only
friendly to those who knew how to cope with them. She
did not know how to cope with them, and at this moment
hated them blindly. There seemed to be nothing left but
to sit by the fire and have a cry. This done, she felt
50 i
WOMAN AND MAN
better, but she made no further attempt to build the
hut.
The sky darkened rapidly and a few drops of rain
pattered noisily among the dry leaves. She had no means
of learning the hour of the day. She guessed that it
would soon be time to prepare supper, but for a long
while she did not move. She was conquered by the in-
evitable facts of nature and her eyes plaintively regarded
the beginnings of the house which might have been, but
was not.
The fire, like her spirits of the morning, had sunk.
But she rose now, her face set in hard little lines of de-
termination, and laid on fresh logs. As the cheerful
flames arose her spirits kindled, too, and she lifted the
creels from the limb and sat down again in her accustomed
place to prepare the scanty meal. Her eyes sought the
up-country trail more frequently and more anxiously,
but the shadows of the night had fallen thickly before
she decided to cook her solitary meal. She was not hun-
gry as she had been in the morning and even the odor
of the cooking fish was not appetizing. She only cooked
because cooking at this time seemed part of the established
order of things and because cooking was something that
belonged to the things that she could do.
She ate mechanically, rose and washed her utensils
without interest. The rain was falling steadily; but she
did not seem to care, and only when she had finished her
tasks did she seek the shelter of the hut. Even then she
stood leaning against the young birch-tree looking out
at the darkness and listening, her brows puckered in tiny
wrinkles of worry. At last with a sigh, she sank on her
balsam bed and closed her eyes.
The night was sombrous and the rain had been falling
for an hour. The girl sat beneath the shelter of her
51
THE SILENT BATTLE
projecting eave upon the ground, where she might look
out up the stream, her chin on her knees, her hands clasped
about her ankles, watching the rain drops fall glistening
into the circle of firelight and hiss spitefully among the
fretting flames. She had been crying again and her
eyes were dark with apprehension. Her hair hung in
moist wisps about her brow and temples and her lips were
drawn in plaintive lines. She listened intently. A dead
branch in the distance cracked and fell. She started
up and peered out for the hundredth time in the direction
from which she might expect his approach. Only the
soft patter of the rain on the soaked foliage and the
ominous blackness of before ! She went out into the wet,
heaping more logs upon the flames. The fire at least must
be kept burning. He had asked that of her. That was
her duty and she did it unquestioning like the solitary cliff-
woman, awaiting in anxious expectation the return of her
lord. She would not lie down upon her balsam bed; for
that would mean that she denied the belief that he would
return, and so she sat, her forehead now bent upon her
knees, her eyes closed, only her ears acutely alive to the
slightest distant sounds.
Suddenly she raised her head, her eyes alight. She
heard sounds now, human sounds, the crunch of foot-
falls in the moist earth, the snapping of fallen twigs. She
ran out into the rain and called joyously. A voice
answered. She ran forward to meet him. He emerged
into the light striding heavily, bent forward under the
weight of something he was carrying.
" Oh, I'm so glad," she cried, her voice trembling. " I
had begun to fear I don't know what. I thought you
you weren't coming back."
He grinned wearily. " I believe I'd almost begun to
think so myself. Phew ! But the thing is heavy ! "
52
WOMAN AND MAN
He lowered it from his shoulders and threw it heavily
Hear the fire.
" W- what is it? " she asked timidly.
" A deer. I shot it," he said laconically.
He straightened slowly, getting the kinks out of his
muscles with an effort; and she saw that his face was
streaked with grime and sweat and that his body in the
firelight was streaming with moisture. His eyes peered
darkly from deep caverns.
" Oh ! You're so tired," she cried. " Sit down by
the fire at once, while I cook your supper." And, as he
made no move to obey her, she seized him by the arms and
led him into the shelter of the hut and pushed him gently
down upon the couch. "You're not to bother about
anything," she went on in a businesslike way. " I'll have
you something hot in a jiffy. I'm so so sorry for you."
He sat in the bunk, with a drooping head, his long legs
stretched toward the blaze.
" Oh, I'm all right," he grunted. But he watched her
flitting to and fro with dull eyes and took the cup of water
she offered him without protest. She spitted the fish
skillfully, crouching on the wet log as she broiled them,
while he watched her, half asleep with the grateful sense
of warmth and relaxation. He did not realize until now
that he had been on the move with little rest for nearly
eighteen hours, during four of which he had carried a
double burden.
The cedar tea she brought him first. He made a wry
face but emptied the saucepan.
" By George, that's good ! I never tasted anything
better." He ate hungrily like an animal, grumbling at
the fish bones, while she cooked more fish, smiling at him.
There was some of the squirrel left and he ate that, too,
not stopping to question why she had not eaten it her-
53
self. Another saucepan of the tea, and he gave a great
sigh of satisfaction and moved as though to rise. But
she pushed him gently down again, fumbling meanwhile
in the pockets of his coat which lay beside the bed.
" Your pipe and tobacco," she said, handing them to
him with a smile. " I insist, you deserve them," she went
to the fire and brought him a glowing pine twig, and
blew it for him until the tobacco was ready. In a mo-
ment he was puffing mechanically.
She sank quickly upon the dry ground beside him and
he looked at her in amazement.
" I forgot," he muttered. " Your ankle ! "
" It's well," she smiled. " I had forgotten it, too.
I haven't used the crutch since morning."
" I'm glad of that, a day or two of rest and we'll soon
be out of here."
He had not spoken of their predicament before, nor
had she. It seemed as though in the delight of having
him (or some one) near her, she had forgotten the object
of his pilgrimage. He had not forgotten. His mind and
body ached too sorely for him to forget his failure. She
saw the tangle at his brows and questioned timidly.
" You had had no luck? "
" No, I hadn't, and I went almost to the headwaters.
I found no signs of travel anywhere, though I searched the
right bank carefully. I thought I could remember " he
put his hand to his brow and drew his long fingers down
his temple, " but I didn't."
" Don't worry about it. I'm not frightened now. In
a day or two when I'm quite sure of my foot, we'll go out
together. I think I really am getting a little tired of
fish," she finished smiling.
" I don't wonder. How would a venison steak strike
you? "
WOMAN AND MAN
" Ah, I forgot. Delicious ! You must be a very good
shot."
" Pure luck. You see my eyes were pretty wide open
to-day and the breeze was favoring. I got quite close
to her and fired three times before she could start. After
I shot she got away but I found some blood and followed.
She didn't get far."
" Poor thing ! " she said softly, her eyes seeking the
dark shadow beyond the fire. " Poor little thing ! "
He looked down at her, a new expression in his eyes ;
yesterday she had been a petulant, and self-willed child,
creating a false position where none need have existed,
diffident and pretentious by turns, self-conscious and over-
natural. Tonight she was all woman. Under his tired
lids he could see that tender, compassionate, gentle, but
strong always strong. There were lines in her face,
too, that he had not seen before. She had been crying.
One of her hands, too, was bound with a handkerchief.
" You've hurt yourself again ? " he asked.
" No only a scratch. My knife I I was cut-
ting" hesitating " cutting sticks for the fish."
If she had not hesitated, he might not have examined
her so minutely. As it was she looked up at him irreso-
lutely and then away. Over her head, beyond the edge
of the shack, he saw the young pine-tree that she had
placed for a roof support.
" All ! " he muttered. But he understood. And
knocking his pipe out against his heel, quietly rose. It
was raining still, not gently and fitfully, as it had done
^arlier in the evening, but steadily, as though nature had
determined to compensate with good measure for the weeks
of clear skies that had been apportioned.
" I've got to get to work," he said resolutely.
"At what?"
55
THE SILENT BATTLE
" The shack you began "
" No."
She answered so shortly that he glanced at her. Her
head was turned away from him.
" I mean it," she insisted, still looking into the dark-
ness. " You can do no more to-night. You must sleep
here."
" You're very kind," he began slowly.
" No I'm only just " she went on firmly. " You're
so tired that you can hardly get up. I'm not going to let
you build that shack. Besides, you couldn't. Every-
thing is soaking. Won't you sit down again? I want
to talk to you."
Slowly he obeyed, dumb with fatigue, but inexpressibly
grateful.
" I don't want you to think I'm a little fool," she said
with petulant abruptness, as though denying an imputa-
tion. " I think I had a right to be timid yesterday and
the day before. I was very much frightened and I felt
very strangely. I don't know very many many men. I
was brought up in a convent. I don't think I quite knew
what to to expect of you. But I think I do now." She
turned her gaze very frankly to his, a gaze that did
not waver or quibble with the issue any more than her
words did. " You've been very thoughtful very consid-
erate of me and you've done all that strength could do
to make things easier for me. I want you to know that
I'm very very thankful."
He began to speak but her gesture silenced him.
" It seems to me that the least I can do is to try and
accept my position sensibly "
" I'm sure you're doing that "
" I'm trving to. I don't want you to think I've any
nonsense left in my head or false consciousness. I want
56
WOMAN AND MAN
you to treat me as you'd treat a man. I'll do my share
if you'll show me how."
" You're more likely to show me how," he said.
" No. I can show you nothing but appreciation. I
do that, don't I?"
" Yes I hope I'll deserve it."
" I'm taking that risk," she said, with a winning laugh.
" I'd have to be pretty sure of you, or I wouldn't be
sitting here flattering you so."
" I hope you'll keep on," drowsily. " I like it."
" There ! I knew it. I've spoiled you already. You'll
be making me haul the fire-wood to-morrow."
" And cook breakfast," he put in sleepily. " Of
course, I'll not stir out of here all day if you talk like
this."
" Then I won't talk any more."
" Do, please, it's very soothing."
" I actually believe you're falling asleep."
" No just dreaming."
"Of what?"
" Of the time a thousand years ago when you and I
did all this before."
She looked at him with startled eyes.
" What made you say that? "
" Because I dreamed it."
" It's nonsense."
" I suppose it is. I'm half asleep."
She was silent a moment her wide gaze on the fire.
" It's curious that you should say that."
"Why is it? I only told what I was dreaming of."
61 You haven't any business dreaming such things."
" It all happened all happened before," he muttered
again. His head was nodding. He slept as he sat. She
got up noiselessly and taking him by the shoulders low-
57
THE SILENT BATTLE
ered him gently to the bed. His lips babbled protestingly,
but he did not wake, and in a moment he was breathing
heavily in the deep sleep of exhaustion.
She stood beside him for a moment, smiling, and then
softly sank upon the ground by his side, still watching.
The rain had stopped falling, but outside the glistening
circle of the firelight the water from the heavy branches
dripped heavily. The heavens lightened and a bleary
cloud opened a single eye and, blinking a moment, at last
let the moonlight through. From every tree pendants
of diamonds, festoons of opals were hung and flashed their
radiance in the rising breeze, falling in splendid profusion.
Over her head the drops pattered noisily upon the roof.
After awhile, she heard them singly and at last silence
fell again upon the forest.
It was her night of vigil and the girl kept it long.
She was not frightened now. Kee-way-din crooned a
lullaby, and she knew that the trees which repeated it
were her friends. It was a night of mystery, of dreams
and of a melancholy so sweet that she was willing even then
to die with the pain of it.
And in the distance a voice sang faintly :
Le jour bien souvent dans nos bois
Helas ! le cceur plein de souffrance,
Je cherche ta si doux voix
Mais tout se tait, tout est silence
Oh! loin de toi, de toi que j'aime,
Dans les ennuis, 6 mes amours,
Dans les regrets, douleur extreme,
Loin de toi je passe mes jours.
The girl at last slept uneasily, her head pillowed upon
the cedar twigs beside the body of the man, who lay as
58
WOMAN AND MAN
he had first fallen, prone, his arms and legs sprawling.
Twice during the night she got up and rebuilt the fire,
for it was cold. Once a wolf sat just outside the circle
of firelight grinning at her, not even moving at her ap-
proach, but she threw a stick at him and he slunk away.
After that, she pulled the carcass of the deer into the
opening of the hut and mounted guard over it until she
was sure the wolf would not return. Then she laj down
again and listened to the breathing of the man.
VI
THE SHADOW
THE third morning rose cold and clear. Kee-wa-din
had brushed the heavens clean, and the rising sun
was burnishing them. Orange and rose color vied
for precedence in the splendid procession across the zenith,
putting to flight the shadows of violet and purple which
retreated westward in rout before the gorgeous pagean-
try of the dawn.
The girl stirred and started up at once, smiling hope-
fully at the radiant sky. Each tree awoke; each leaf
and bough sent forth its fragrant tribute. Nature had
wept, was drying her tears ; and all the woods were glad.
The man still slept. The girl listened again for the
sounds of his breathing, and then rose slowly and walked
out. She shivered with the cold and dampness, for her
feet had been wet the night before and were not yet dry,
but the fire still glowed warmly. The damp twigs sput-
tered in protest as she put them on and a shaft of white
smoke slanted down the wind, but presently the grateful
crackling was followed by a burst of flame.
The explosion of a pine-knot awoke the sleeper in the
hut, who rolled over on his couch, looking around him with
heavy eyes, unable to put his thoughts together. A ray
of sunlight fell upon the girl's face and rested there ; and
he saw that she was pale and that her hair had fallen in
disorder about her shoulders. He understood then. He
had slept upon her bed while she for all he knew had
spent the night where he now saw her. He straightened,
60
THE SHADOW
struggled stiffly to his feet and stumbled out, rubbing his
eyes.
She greeted him with a wan smile.
" Good morning," she said. " I awoke first, you see."
" I c-can't forgive myself."
" Oh, yes, you can, since / do."
" I don't know what to say to you."
" You might say * good morning.' '
" I've been asleep," he went on with a slow shake of
his head, " while you lay on the ground. I didn't know.
I only remember sitting there. I meant to get up
She laughed deliciously.
" But you couldn't have unless you had walked in
your sleep."
" I remember nothing." He ran his blackened fingers
through his hair. " Oh, yes, the trail the deer and ;
you cooking fish and then after that we talked, didn't
we?"
He was awake now, and blundered forward eagerly to
take the branch which she had lifted from the wood-pile.
But she yielded grudgingly.
" I'm to do my share that we agreed "
" No you're a woman. You shall do nothing go
into the hut and rest."
" I'm not tired."
Her appearance belied her words. He looked down
at her tenderly and laid his hand gently on her shoulder.
"You have not slept?"
" Oh, yes, I slept," looking away.
" Why didn't you wake me? "
" It wasn't necessary."
She smiled, but did not meet his gaze, which she felt
was bent eagerly in search of her own.
" Where did you sleep ? " he asked again.
61
THE SILENT BATTLE
" In the shelter beside you."
" And I did not know ! Do you think you can f or-
'give me? "
She put her hand to her shoulder and gently removed
his fingers. But his own seized hers firmly and would not
let them go.
" Listen, please," he pleaded, " won't you ? I want
you to understand many things. I want you to know
that I wouldn't willingly have slept there for anything
in the world. It's a matter of pride with me to make you
comfortable. I'm under a moral obligation to myself
it goes deeper than you can ever guess to bring you
safely out of this, and give you to your people. You
don't know how I've blessed the chance that threw you
in my way here since I've been in the woods that it
happened to be my opportunity instead of some one
else's who didn't need it as I did. I did need it. I can't
tell you how or why, but I did. It doesn't matter who I
am, but I want you to appreciate this much, at least, that
I never knew anything of the joy of living until I found
it here, the delight of the struggle to satisfy the mere
pangs of healthy hunger yours and mine, the wonderful
ache of muscles stretched to the snapping point." He
stopped, with a sharp sigh.
" Oh, I know you can't understand all this. I don't
think I want you to or why it hurts me to know that
for one night at least you have suffered "
" I do understand, I think," she murmured slowly.
She had not looked at him, and her gaze sought the dis-
tant trees. " I did not suffer, though," she added.
; ' You had been crying they hurt me, too, those
anxious eyes of yours."
" I was afraid you might not come back, that was all,"
she said frankly. " I'm rather useless, you see."
62
THE SHADOW
He took her other hand and made her look at him.
" You felt the need of me? " he queried.
" Yes, of course," she said simply. " What would I
have done without you? "
He laughed happily, " What wouldn't you have done
if you hadn't cut your finger? "
She colored and her eyes, in some confusion, sought
the two trees which still bore the evidence of her ill-fated
building operation.
" Yesterday, when I was away you started to build a
shack for me," he went on. " It was your right, of
course "
" No, no," she protested, lowering her head. " I
thought you'd like it so, I "
" I understand," gently. " But it seems
" It was a selfish motive after all," she broke in again.
" Your strength is more important than mine
He smiled and shook his head.
" You can't mislead me. Last night I learned some-
thing of what you are gentle, courageous, motherly,
self-effacing. I'll remember you so always."
She disengaged her hands abruptly and took up the"
saucepan.
" Meanwhile, the breakfast is to be cooked " she said!
coolly. There was no reproof in her tone, only good fel-
lowship, a deliberate confirmation of her promises of the
night before.
With a smile he took the saucepan from her hand and
went about his work. It seemed that his failure yester-
day to find a way out meant more to him this morning
than it did to her. His limbs were heavy, too, and his
body ached from top to toe ; but he went to the brook and
washed, then searched the woods for the blueberries that
she liked and silently cooked the meal.
63
THE SILENT BATTLE
As he did not eat she asked him, " Aren't you
hungry ? "
" Not very."
He took up a fish and turned it over in his fingers. " I
think I'll wait for the venison pasty."
"Don't you feel well?"
" Just a little loggy," that's all. " I think I slept too
long."
She looked up at him suddenly, and then with friendly
solicitude, laid her fingers lightly along his brow. The
gesture was natural, gentle, so exquisitely feminine, that
he closed his eyes delightedly, conscious of the agreeable
softness of her fingers and the coolness of their touch.
" Your brow is hot," she said quickly.
" Is it? " he asked. " That's queer, I feel chilly."
" You've caught a bad cold, I'm afraid," she said, re-
moving her fingers. " It's very very imprudent of you."
Not satisfied with the rapidity of her diagnosis, he
thrust his hand toward her for confirmation.
" I haven't any fever, have I? "
Her fingers lightly touched his wrist.
" I'm afraid so. Your pulse is thumping pretty fast."
" Very fast?"
"Yes."
" You must be mistaken."
" No, you have fever. You'll have to rest to-day."
" I don't want to rest. I couldn't if I wanted to."
" You must! " she said peremptorily. " There's noth-
ing but the firewood. I can get that."
" There's the shack to build," he said.
" The shack must wait," she replied.
" And the deer to be butchered ? "
She looked at the carcass and then put her fingers
over her eyes. But she looked up at him resolutely.
64
THE SHADOW
"Yes," she persisted, "I'll do that, too if you'll
show me how."
He looked at her a moment with a soft light in his
ideep-set eyes and then rose heavily to his feet.
" It's very kind of you to want to make me an invalid,"
he said, " but that can't be. There's nothing wrong with
me. What I want is work. The more I have the better
I'll feel. I'm going to skin the deer." And disregarding
her protests, he leaned over and caught up the hind-legs
of the creature, dragging it into the bushes.
The effort cost him a violent throbbing in the head
and pains like little needle pricks through his body. His
eyes swam and the hand that held his knife was trembling ;
but after a while he finished his work, and cutting a strong
young twig, thrust it through the tendons of the hind
legs and carried the meat back to camp, hanging it high
on a projecting branch near the fire.
She watched him moving slowly about, but covered her
eyes at the sight of his red hands and the erubescent
carcass.
" Don't you feel like a murderer? " she asked.
" Yes," he admitted, " I think I do ; half of me does
but the hunter, the primitive man in me is rejoicing.
There's an instinct in all of us that belongs to a lower
order of creation."
" But it it's unclean "
" Then all meat is unclean. The reproach is on the
race not on us. After all we are only first cousins to
the South-Sea gentlemen who eat one another," he laughed.
" I don't believe I can eat it," she shuddered.
" Oh, yes, you will when you're hungry."
" I'll never eat meat again," she insisted. " Never !
The brutality of it ! "
" What's the difference? " he laughed. " In town
65
THE SILENT BATTLE
we pay a butcher to do our dirty work here we do it
ourselves. Our responsibilities are just as great there
as here."
" That's true I never thought of that, but I can't
forget that creature's eyes." And while she looked
soberly into the fire, he went down to the stream and
cleansed himself, washing away all traces of his unpleas-
ant task. When he returned she still sat as before.
" Why is it? " she asked thoughtfully, " that the ani-
mal appetites are so repellent, since we ourselves are
animals? And yet we tolerate gluttony drunkenness
among our kind? We're only in a larva state after all."
He had sunk on the log beside her for the comfort of
the blaze, and as she spoke the shadows under his brows
darkened with his frown and the chin beneath its stubble
hardened in deep lines.
" I sometimes think that Thoreau had the right idea
of life," she said slowly. " There are infinite degrees of
gluttony infinite degrees of drunkenness. I felt shame
for you just now for myself for the blood on your
hands. I can't explain it. It seemed different from
everything else that you have done here in the woods, for
the forest is clean, sweet-smelling. I did not like to
feel ashamed for you. You see," she smiled, " I've been
rating you very highly."
" No," he groaned, his head in his hands. " Don't !
You mustn't do that ! "
At the somber note she turned and looked at him
keenly. She could not see his face, but the fingers that
hid it were trembling.
" You're ill ! " she gasped. " Your body is shaking."
He sat up with an effort and his face was the color
of ashes.
" No, it's nothing. Just a chill, I think. I'll be all
right in a minute."
66
THE SHADOW
But she put her arm around him and made him sit on
the log nearest to the fire.
" This won't do at all," she said anxiously. " You've
got to take care of yourself to let me take care of you.
Here ! You must drink this."
She had taken the flask from her pocket and before
he knew it had thrust it to his lips. He hesitated a mo-
ment, his eyes staring into space and then without ques-
tion, drank deep, his eyes closed.
And as the leaping fires went sparkling through his
body, he set the vessel down, screwed on the lid and put
it on the log beside him. Two dark spots appeared be-
neath the tan and mounted slowly to his temples, two red
spots like the flush of shame. An involuntary shudder
or two and the trembling ceased. Then he sat up and
looked at her.
" A mustard foot-bath and some quinine, please," he
asked with a queer laugh.
But she refused to smile. " You slept in your soak-
ing clothes last night," severely.
He shrugged his shoulders and laughed again.
" That's nothing. I've done that often. Besides,
what else could I do ? If you had wakened me "
" That is unkind."
She was on the verge of tears. So he got to his feet
quickly and shaking himself like a shaggy dog, faced her
almost jauntily.
" I'm right as a trivet," he announced. " And I'm
going to call you Hebe the cup-bearer to the gods or
Euphrosyne. Which do you like the best? "
" I don't like either," she said with a pucker at her
brow. And then with the demureness which so became
her. " My name is is Jane."
" Jane ! " he exclaimed. " Jane ! of course. Do you
know I've been wondering, ever since we've been here what
67
THE SILENT BATTLE
name suited you best, Phyllis, Millicent, Elizabeth, and
a dozen others I've tried them all ; but I'm sure now that
Jane suits you best of all. Jane ! " he chuckled gleefully.
" Yes, it does why, it's you. How could I ever have
thought of anything else? "
Her lips pouted reluctantly and finally broke into
laughter, which showed her even white teeth and discovered
new dimples.
" Do you really like it? "
" How could I help it? It's you, I tell you so
sound, sane, determined and a little prim, too."
" I'm not prim."
" Yes," he decided, " you're prim when you think 7
that you ought to be."
" Oh."
He seated himself beside her, looking at her quizzically
as though she was a person he had never seen before as
though the half-identity she provided had invested her
with new and unexpected attributes.
" It was nice of you to tell me. My name is Phil,"
he said.
" Is it? " she asked almost mechanically.
"Yes, don't you like it? "
Her glance moved quickly from one object to another
the shelter, the balsam bed, and the crutch which leaned
against the door flap.
" Don't you like it? " he repeated eagerly.
" No," quietly. " It isn't like you at all."
Probed for a reason, she would give none, except the
woman's reason which was no reason at all. Only when he
ceased probing did she give it, and then voluntarily.
" I'm afraid I'll have to change it then," he laughed.
" Yes, change it, please. The only Phils I've ever
known were men of a different stripe men without pur-
68
THE SHADOW
poses, without ambitions." And then, after a pause, " I
believe you to be different."
" No ! I have no purposes no ambitions," he said
glowering again at the fire.
" That is not true."
" How do you know? "
" Because you have ideals of purity, of virtue, of
courage."
" No," he mumbled, " I have no ideals. Life is a
joke without a point. If it has any, I haven't discov-
ered it yet."
Her eyes sought his face in a vague disquiet, but he
would not meet her look. The flush on his cheek had
deepened, his gaze roved dully from one object to another
and his fingers moved aimlessly upon his knees. She had
proved him for three days, she thought, with the test of
acid and the fire, but she did not know him at this mo-
ment. The thing that she had discovered and recognized
as the clean white light of his inner genius had been sud-
denly smothered. She could not understand. His words
were less disturbing than his manner, and his voice sounded
gruff and unfamiliar to her ears.
She rose quietly and moved away, and he did not
follow her. He did not even turn his head and for all
she knew was not aware that she had gone. This was
unlike him, for there had never been a moment since they
had met when she could have questioned his chivalry, his
courtesy or good manners. Her mind was troubled
vaguely, like the surface of a lake which trembles at the
distant storm.
A walk through the forest soothed her. The brook
her brook and his sang as musically as before, the long
drawn aisles had not changed, and the note of praise still
eweL'ed among the fretted vaults above. The birds made
69
THE SILENT BATTLE
light of their troubles, too, and the leaves were whispering
joyously the last gossip of the wood. What they said
she could not guess, but she knew by the warm flush that
had risen to her cheeks that it must be personal.
When she returned to camp her arms were full of
asters and cardinal flowers. He greeted her gravely, with
an almost too elaborate politeness.
" I hope you'll forgive me," he begged her. " I don't
think I'm quite myself to-day."
"Are you feeling better?" she questioned.
" Yes, I'm quite quite comfortable. I was afraid
I had offended you."
" Oh, no, I didn't understand you for a moment. That
was all." She lifted the flowers so that he might see them
better. " I've brought these for our lunch-table."
But he did not look at them. His eyes, still glowing
unfamiliarly, sought only hers.
" Will you forgive me ? "
" Yes, of course," lightly.
" I want I want your friendship. I can't tell you
how much. I didn't say anything that offended you, did
I? I felt pretty seedy. Everything seemed to be slipping
away from me."
"Not now?"
" Oh, no. I'm all right."
He took the flowers from her arms and laid them
at the foot of a tree. Then coming forward he thrust
out both his hands suddenly and took her by the
elbows.
" Jane ! " he cried, " Jane ! Look up into my eyes !
I want you to see what you've written there. Why
haven't you ever seen it? Why wouldn't you look and
read? It's madness, perhaps; but if it's madness, then
madness is sweet and all the world is mad with me.
70
THE SHADOW
There isn't any world. There's nothing but you and me
and Arcadia."
She had turned her gaze to the ground and would not
look at him but she struggled faintly in his embrace. The
color was gone from her cheeks now and beneath the long
lashes that swept her cheek one great tear trembled and
fell.
" No, no you mustn't," she whispered, stifling. " It
can't it mustn't be. I don't '
But he had seized her more closely in his arms and
shackled her lips with his kisses.
" I'm mad I know but I want you, Jane. I love
you I love you I want the woods to hear "
She wrenched one arm free and pushed away, her
eyes wide, for the horror of him had dawned slowly.
" Oh ! " she gasped. " You! "
As he seized her again, she drew back, mad with fear,
shrunken within herself, like a snake in a thicket coiling
itself to thrust and then struck viciously.
He felt the impact of a blow full in the face and
staggered back releasing her. And her accents, sharp,
cruel, vicious, clove the silence like sword-cuts.
" You cad ! You brute ! You utter brute ! "
He came forward like a blind man, mumbling incoher-
ently, but she avoided him easily, and fled.
" Jane ! " he called hoarsely. " Come back to me,
Jane. Come back to me ! Oh, God ! "
He stumbled and fell; then rose again, putting his
hands to his face and running heavily toward the spot
where she had vanished into the bushes the very spot
where three days ago she had appeared to him. He
caught a glimpse of her ahead of him and blundered on,
calling for forgiveness. There was no reply but the echo
of his own voice, nor any glimpse of her. After that he
71
THE SILENT BATTLE
remembered little, except that he went on and on, tripping,
falling, tearing his face and clothes in the briars, getting
to his feet and going on again, mad with the terror of
losing her an instinct only, an animal in search of its
wounded mate.
He did not know how long he strove or how far, but
there came a time when he fell headlong among some
boulders and could rise no more.
That morning two Indian guides in search of a woman
who had been lost, met another Indian at the headwater*
of a stream, and together they followed a fresh trail-
the trail of a big man wearing hob-nailed boots and carry-
ing a burden. In the afternoon they found an empty
shack beside which a fire was burning. Two creels hung
side by side near the fire and upon the limb of a tree
was the carcass of a deer. There were many trails into
the woods some made by the feet of a woman, some by the
feet of a man.
The three guides sat at the fire for awhile and smokec^
waiting.
Then two of them got up and after examining the
smaller foot-marks silently disappeared. When they had
gone the third guide, a puzzled look on his face, picked
up an object which had fallen under a log and examined
it with minute interest. Then with a single guttural sound
from his throat, put the object in his pocket and bending
well forward, his eyes upon the ground, glided noiselessly
through the underbrush after them.
VII
ALLEGRO
A STORM of wind and rain had fallen out of the
Northwest, and in a night had blown seaward the
lingering tokens of Autumn. The air was chill,
the sunshine pale as calcium light, and distant buildings
came into focus, cleanly cut against the sparkling sky
at the northern end of the Avenue ; jets of steam appeared
overhead and vanished at once into space ; flags quivered
tensely at their poles; fast flying squadrons of clouds
whirled on to their distant rendezvous, their shadows leap-
ing skyward along the sunlit walls. In a stride Winter
had come. The city had taken a new tempo. The adagio
of Indian Summer had come to a pause in the night ; and
with the morning, the baton of winter quickened its beat
as the orchestra of city sounds swung into the presto
movement. Upon the Avenue shop-windows bloomed sud-
denly with finery; limousines and broughams, new or re-
furbished, with a glistening of polished nickel and brass,
drew up along the curbs to discharge their occupants who
descended, briskly intent on the business of the minute,
in search of properties and backgrounds for the winter
drama.
In the Fifth Avenue window of the Cosmos Club, some
of the walking gentlemen gathered in the afternoon and
were already rehearsing the familiar choruses. All sum-
mer they had played the fashionable circuit of house-
parties at Narragansett, Newport and other brief stands,
and all recounted the tales of the road, glad at last to
73
THE SILENT BATTLE
be back in their own corners, using the old lines, the old
gestures, the old cues with which they had long been
familiar.
If its summer pilgrimage had worked any hardship,
the chorus at the windows of the Cosmos Club gave no
sign of it. It was a well-fed chorus, well-groomed, well-
tailored and prosperous. Few members of it had ever
played a " lead " or wished to ; for the tribulations of
star-dom were great and the rewards uncertain, so they
played their parts comfortably far up-stage against the
colorful background.
Colonel Broadhurst took up the glass which Percy
Endicott had ordered and regarded it ponderously.
" Pretty, aren't they? " he asked sententiously of no
one in particular, " pretty, innocent, winking bubbles !
Little hopes rising and bursting."
" Hope deferred maketh the heart sick," put in the
thirsty Percy promptly. " Luck, Colonel ! " and drank.
With a long sigh the Colonel lifted his glass. " Why
<io we do it? " he asked again. " There's nothing posi-
tively nothing in it."
" You never said a truer thing," laughed Ogden
Spencer, for the Colonel had set his empty glass upon the
table.
" Oh, for the days of sunburnt mirth of youth and
the joyful Hippocrene! " the Colonel sighed again.
" Write note Chairman House Committee," said
Coleman Van Duyn, arousing from slumber, thickly,
" mighty poor stuff here lately."
" Go back to sleep, Coley," laughed Spencer. " It's
not your cue."
Van Duyn lurched heavily forward for his glass, and
drank silently. "Hippocrene?" he asked. "What's
Hippocrene? "
74
ALLEGED
" Nectar, my boy," said the Colonel pityingly, " the
water of the gods."
" Water ! " and with a groan, " Oh, the Devil ! "
He joined good naturedly in the laugh which followed
and settled back in his leather chair.
" Oh, you laugh, you fellows. It's no joke. Drank
nothing but water for two months this summer. Doctors
orders. Drove the water wagon, / did two long months.
Think of it ! " The retrospect was so unpleasant that
Mr. Van Duyn leaned forward immediately and laid his
finger on the bell.
" Climb off, Coley? " asked Spencer.
" No, jumped," he grinned. " Horse ran away."
" You're looking fit."
" I am. Got a new doctor sensible chap, young,
ambitious, all that sort of thing. Believes in alcohol.
Some people need it, you know. Can't be too careful in
choice of doctor. Wants me to drink Lithia water,
though. What's this Hippo hippo
" Chondriac ! " put in Percy.
" Hippocrene," said Broadhurst severely.
" Sounds like a parlor car or er a skin food. Any
good, Colonel? "
" No," said Colonel Broadhurst with another sigh,
" It wouldn't suit your case, Coley."
A servant entered silently, took the orders and re-
moved the empty glasses.
" Where were you, Coley? " asked Percy.
" Woods Canada."
" Fishing? "
" Yep some."
" See anything of Phil Gallatin? "
" No. I was with a big outfit ten guides, call 'em
servants, if you like. Air mattresses, cold storage plant,
75
THE SILENT BATTLE
chef, bottled asparagus tips, Charlotte Russe fine camp
that ! "
"Whose?"
" Henry K. Loring. You know coal."
" Oh I see. There's a girl, isn't there? "
" Yes."
Van Duyn reached for his glass and lapsed into surly
silence.
But Percy Endicott was always voluble in the after-
noon.
" You didn't hear about Phil? "
" No not another "
" Oh, no, he hasn't touched a drop for weeks. Got
lost up there. I heard the story at Tuxedo from young
Benson who just come down. He had it from a guide.
It seems that Phil got twisted somehow in the heart of the
Kawagama country and couldn't find his way back to
camp. He's not much of a woodsman hadn't ever been
up there before, and the guide couldn't pick up his
trail "
" Didn't he lose his nerve? "
" Not he. He couldn't, you see. There was a girl
with him."
" A girl ! The plot thickens. Go on. v
" They met in the woods. She was lost, too, so Phil
built a lean-to and they lived there together. Lucky dog !
Idyllic what?"
" Well, rather ! Arcadia to the minute. But how
did they get on? " asked the Colonel.
" Famously "
" But they couldn't live on love."
" Oh, they fished and ate berries, and Gallatin shot a
deer."
" Lucky, lucky dog ! "
76
" They'd be there now, if the guides hadn't found
them."
"His guides?"
" Yes, and hers."
" Hers ! She wasn't a native then? "
" Not on your life. A New Yorker and a clinker.
That's the mystery. Her guide came from the eastward
but her camp must have been why, what's the matter,
Coley? "
Mr. Van Duyn had put his glass upon the table and
had risen heavily from his easy chair, his pale blue eyes
unpleasantly prominent. He pulled at his collar-band
and gasped.
" Heat damn heat ! " and walked away muttering.
It was just in the doorway that he met Phil Gallatin,
who, with a smile, was extending the hand of fellowship.
He glowered at the newcomer, touched the extended fingers
flabbily and departed, while Gallatin watched him go, not
knowing whether to be angry or only amused. But he
shrugged a shoulder and joined the group near the
window.
The greetings were cordial and the Colonel motioned
to the servant to take Gallatin's order.
" No, thanks, Colonel," said Gallatin, his lips slightly
compressed.
" Really ! Glad to hear it, my boy. It's a silly
business." And then to the waiting-man: "Make mine a
Swissesse this time. It's ruination, sir, this drinking when
you don't want it just because some silly ass punches the
bell."
" But suppose you do want it," laughed Spencer.
" Then all the more reason to refuse."
Gallatin sank into the chair that Van Duyn had va-
cated. These were his accustomed haunts, these were
77
THE SILENT BATTLE
his associates, but he now felt ill at ease and out of place
in their company. He came here in the afternoons some-
times, but the club only made his difficulties greater. He
listened silently to the gossip of the widening group of
men, of somebody's coup down town, of Larry Kane's trip
to the Rockies, of the opening of the hunting season on
Long Island, the prospects of a gay winter and the thou-
sand and one happenings that made up the life of the
leisurely group of men about him. The servant brought
the tray and laid the glasses.
" Won't change your mind, Phil ? " asked Colonel
Broadhurst again.
Gallatin straightened. " No, thanks," he repeated.
" That's right," laughed the Colonel jovially. " The
true secret of drinking is to drink when you don't want
it and refuse when you do."
" Gad ! Crosby, for a man who never refuses " be-
gan Kane.
" It only shows what a martyr I am to the usages of
society," concluded the Colonel with a chuckle.
" How's the crop of buds this year? " queried Larry
Kane.
" Ask * Bibby ' Worthington," suggested Percy Endi-
cott. " He's got 'em all down, looks, condition, action,
pedigree "
" Bigger than usual," said the gentleman appealed to,
" queens, too, some of 'em."
" And have you picked out the lucky one already ? "
laughed Spencer.
" Bibby " Worthington, as everybody knew, had been
" coming out " for ten years, with each season's crop of
debutantes, and each season had offered his hand and heart
to the newest of them.
78
ALLEGRO
But the question touched his dignity in more than one
tender spot, and he refused to reply.
" They're all queens," sighed the Colonel, raising his
glass. " I love 'em all, God bless 'em, their rosy faces,
their round limpid eyes "
" And the smell of bread and jam from the nursery,"
put in Spencer, the materialist, dryly. " Some new-com-
ers, aren't there, Billy? "
" Oh, yes, a few Westerners."
" Oh, well, we need the money, you know."
The crowd broke up into groups of two and three,
each with its own interests. Gallatin rose and joined
Kane and Endicott at the window, where the three sat for
awhile watching the endless procession of vehicles and
pedestrians moving up and down the Avenue.
" Good sport in Canada, I hear, Phil," said Percy in
a pause of conversation.
Gallatin glanced quickly at his companion.
" Fishing yes," he said quietly, unable to control the
flush that had risen unbidden to his temples. " No shoot-
ing."
" That's funny," went on the blissful Endicott with a
laugh. " I heard you got a deer, Phil."
" Oh, yes, one "
" A two-legged one with skirts."
Gallatin started his face pale.
" Who told you that? " he asked, his jaw setting.
" Oh, don't get sore, Phil. Somebody's brought the
story down from Montreal about your being lost in the
woods and and all that," he finished lamely. " Sorry
I butted in."
" So am I," said Gallatin, stiffly.
Percy's face crimsoned, and he stammered out an
apology. He knew he had made a mistake. Gossip that
79
THE SILENT BATTLE
he was, he did not make it a habit to intrude upon other
men's personal affairs, especially men like Gallatin who
were intolerant of meddlers ; but the story was now com-
mon property and to that extent at least he was justified.
" Don't be unpleasant, Phil, there's a good chap. I
only thought "
" Oh, it doesn't matter in the least," said Gallatin,
rising, suddenly aware of the fact that the whole incident
would only draw his adventure into further notoriety.
" Somebody's made a good story of it," he laughed. " I
did meet a a girl in the woods and she stayed at my camp
until her guides found her, that's all. I don't even know
who she was," he finished truthfully.
Percy Endicott wriggled away, glad to be let off so
easily ; and after a word with Kane, Gallatin went quietly
out.
He reached the street and turning the corner walked
northward blindly, in dull resentment against Percy Endi-
cott, and the world that he typified. Their story of his
adventure, it appeared, was common property, and was
being handed with God knows what hyperbole from one
chattering group to another. It didn't matter about him-
self, of course. He realized grimly that this was not the
first time his name had played shuttlecock to the fashion-
able battledore. It was of her he was thinking of Jane.
Thank God, they hadn't found a name to couple with his.
What they were telling was doubtless bad enough without
that, and the mere fact that his secret was known had
already taken away some of the idyllic quality with which
he had invested it. He knew what fellows like Ogden
Spencer and Larry Kane were saying. Had he not him-
self in times past assisted at the post mortems of dead
reputations, and wielded his scalpel with as lively a skill
as the rest of them?
80
ALLEGRO
Two months had passed since that day in the woods
when he had lost her, but there wasn't a day of that time
when he had not hoped that some miracle would bring
them together again. In Canada he had made inquiries
at the camps he had passed, and poor Joe Keegon, who
had spent a day with her guides, had come in for his
share of recrimination. The party had come from the
eastward, and had made a permanent camp; there were
many people and many guides, but no names had passed.
Joe Keegon was not in the habit of asking needless ques-
tions.
One thing alone that had belonged to her remained
to Gallatin a small gold flask which bore, upon its sur-
face in delicate script, the letters J.L. On the day that
they had broken camp Joe Keegon had silently handed it
to him, his face more masklike than ever. Gallatin had
thrust it into his coat-pocket with an air of indifference
he was far from feeling, and had brought it southward
to New York, where it now stood upon the desk in the
room of his boyhood, so that he could see it each day,
the token of a great happiness the symbol of an ineffable
disgrace.
It seemed now that Gallatin had not needed that re-
minder, for since he had been back in the city he had been,
working hard. It surprised him what few avenues of
escape were open to him, for when he went abroad and did
the things he had always done, there at his elbow was the
Bowl. But his resolution was still unshaken, and difficult
as he found the task, he went the round of his clubs at the
usual hours and joined perfunctorily in the conversation.
Always companionable, his fellows now found him reticent,
more reserved and less prone to make engagements. Bridge
he had foresworn and the card room at the Cosmos saw
him no more. He stopped in at the club on the way
81
home as he had done to-day, sometimes leaving his asso-
ciates with an abruptness which caused comment.
But already he was finding the trial he had set for him-
self less difficult; and as the habit of resistance grew on
him, he realized that little by little he was drifting away
from the associations which had always meant so much
to him. He had not given up the hope of finding Jane.
From a chance phrase, which he had treasured, he knew
that New York was familiar to her and that some day
he would see her. He was as sure of that as though Jane
herself had promised it to him. She owed him nothing,
of course, for in the hour of his madness he had thrown
away the small claims he had upon her gratitude, and
the only memory she could have of him was that which
had been expressed in the look of fear and loathing he had
last seen in her eyes. To her, of course, time and dis-
tance had only magnified that horror and he knew that
when he met her, there was little to expect from her
generosity, little that he would even dare ask of it except
that she would listen while he told her of the enemy in his
house and of the battle that was still raging in his heart.
He wanted her to know about that. It was his right to
tell her, not so much to clear himself of blame, as to justify
her for the liberality of her confidence before the tide
of battle had turned against him against them both.
Time and distance had played strange tricks with
Jane's image and at times it seemed very difficult for Gal-
latin to reconstruct the picture which he had destroyed.
Sometimes she appeared a Dryad, as when he had first
seen her, running frightened through the wood, some-
times the forlorn child with the injured ankle, sometimes
the cliff-woman; but most often he pictured her as when
he had seen her last, running in terror and dismay from
the sight of him. And the other Jane, the Jane that he
82
ALLEGED ^^^^
knew best, was hidden behind the eyes of terror. The
memory was so vague that he sometimes wondered whether
he would even know her if he met her dressed in the mode
of the city. Somehow he could not associate her with the
thought of fashionable clothes. She had worn no hat
nor had she needed one. She belonged to the deep woods,
where dress means only warmth and art means only arti-
ficiality. He always thought of her hatless, in her tat-
tered shirtwaist and skirt, and upon Fifth Avenue was as
much at a loss as to the kind of figure he must look for
as though he were in the land of the great Cham.
Yes, he would know her, her slender figure, her straight
carriage, the poise of her head, her brown hair, her deep
blue eyes. No fripperies could conceal them. These
were Jane. He would know them anywhere.
83
VIII
CHICOT, THE JESTER
PHILIP GALLATIN had been mistaken. He did
not know Jane when he saw her. For, ten minutes
later, he met her face to face in one of the paths
of the Park looked her in the face and passed on un-
knowing. Like the hound in the fable, he was so intent
upon the reflection in the pool that he let slip the sub-
stance. He was conscious that a girl had passed him
going in the opposite direction, a girl dressed in a dark
gray tailor-made suit, with a fur at her neck and a dark
muff swinging in one hand a slender girl beside whom two
French poodles frisked and scampered, a handsome girl
in fashionable attire, taking her dogs for an airing. He
walked on and sat down on a bench which overlooked the
lake. The sun had fallen below the Jersey hills and only
the tops of the tall buildings to the eastward held its dy-
ing glow. The lawns were swathed in shadow and the
branches of the trees, already half denuded of their foli-
age, emerged in solemn silhouette like a pattern of Irish
lace against the purpling sky. A hush had suddenly fal-
len on the distant traffic and Gallatin was alone.
Out of the half-light an inky figure came bounding
up to him and sniffed eagerly at his knees. It was a
black poodle. Gallatin patted the dog encouragingly,
upon which it whined, put its paws on his lap and looked
up into his face.
" Too bad, old man," he said. " Lost, aren't you? " N
Then, as the memory came to him, " By George, your mis-
84
CHICOT, THE JESTER
tress will be hunting. I wonder if we can find her." He
turned the nickel collar in his fingers and examined the
name-plate. There in script was the name of the owner,
and an address. Gallatin thrust the crook of his stick
through the dog's collar and rose. He must find Miss
Jane Loring or return the animal to its home. Jane Lor-
ing? Jane ?
He stopped, bent over the excited dog and looked at
the name plate again. Jane Loring " J. L." Why it
was Jane's dog! He had passed her a moment ago
here in the park. More perturbed even than the wrig-
gling poodle, he rose and hurried along the path down
which he had come. There could be no mistake. Of
course, it was Jane ! There was no possible doubt about
it ! That blessed poodle !
"Hi! there! Let up, will you?" he cried, as the
!dog twisted and squirmed away from him. A whistle
had sounded shrilly upon Gallatin's left and before he
knew it the dog had escaped him and was dashing hotfoot
through the leaves toward the spot where a dark figure
with another dog on a leash was rapidly moving.
Gallatin followed briskly and came up a moment later,
in the midst of the excitement of reunion and reconcilia-
tion.
" Down, Chicot, down, I say," the girl was command-
ing. " Aren't you ashamed of yourself to be giving so
much trouble ! " And as Gallatin approached, breath-
lessly, hat in hand, " I'm ever so much obliged. I ought
to have had him in leash. He's only a puppy and "
She stopped, mouth open, eyes wide as she recognized him.
He saw the look she gave him and bowed his head.
" Jane ! " he said, humbly. " Jane ! "
The dogs were leaping around them both and Chicot
85
THE SILENT BATTLE
was biting joyously at his gloved hand, but Miss Loring
had drawn back.
"You!" she said.
" Yes," softly. " I I'm so glad to see you."
He held his hand before him as though to parry ari
expected blow.
" Don't," he muttered. " Give me a chance. There's
so much I've got to say, so much "
" There's nothing for you to say," she said decisively.
" If you'll excuse me I I must be going at once."
She turned away quickly, but the dogs were putting
her dignity in jeopardy for the puppy still nosed Galla-
tin's hand and showed a determination to linger for his
caress.
" You've got to listen," he murmured. " I'm not going
to lose you again "
" Come, Chicot," said the girl in a voice which was
meant to be peremptory, but which sounded curiously in-
effective. Chicot would not go until Gallatin caught him
by the collar and followed.
" You see," he laughed, " you've got to stand for me
or lose the puppy."
But Miss Loring had turned abruptly and was moving
rapidly toward the distant Avenue. Gallatin put on his
hat and walked at her side.
" I want you to know how it all happened to me
up there in the woods," he muttered, through set lips.
" It's only justice to me and to you."
" Will you please leave me ! " she said, in a stifled
voice, her head stiffly set, her eyes looking straight down
the path before her.
" No," he replied, more calmly. ,\._" I'm not going to
leave you.'*
" Oh, that you^would dare! " >
86
CHICOT, THE JESTER
" Don't, Jane ! " he pleaded. " Can't you see that
I've got to go with you whether "
" My name is Loring," she interrupted coldly, strongly
accenting the word.
" Won't you listen to me ? "
" I'm entirely at your mercy unfortunately. I've
always thought that a girl was safe from intrusion here
in the Park."
" Don't call it that. I'll go in a moment, if you'll
only hear what I've got to say."
" You'd offer an apology for for that! " She could
not find a tone that suited her scorn of him.
" No not apology," he said steadily. " One doesn't
apologize for the things beyond one's power to prevent.
It's the miserere, Jane the de profundis "
" It comes too late," she said, but she stole a glance
at him in spite of herself. His head bent slightly forward,
he was gazing, under lowered brows directly before him
into the falling dusk. She remembered that look. He
had worn it when he had sat by their camp-fire the night
they had heard the voices.
" Yes, I know," he went on slowly. " Too late for
you to understand too late to help, and yet "
" I beg that you will not go on," she broke in quickly,
" It can do no good."
" I must go on. I've got so much to say and such a
little time to say it in. Perhaps, I won't see you again.
At least I won't see you unless you wish it."
" Then you'll not see me again."
He turned his head and examined her soberly.
" That, of course, is your privilege. Don't be too
hard, if you can help it. Try and remember me, if you
can, as I was before "
" I shall not remember you at all, Mr. Gallatin."
87
THE SILENT BATTLE
He started as she spoke his name. " You knew? "
" Yes, I knew. x You your name was familiar to
me."
" You mean that you had heard of me? " he asked won-
deringly.
She knew that she had said too much, but she went on
coldly.
" In New York one hears of Philip Gallatin. I knew
there in the woods. I discovered your name by acci-
dent upon your letters."
She spoke shortly hesitantly, as if every word was
wrung from her by an effort of will.
" I see," he said, " and what you heard of me was not
good?"
" No," she said. " It was not good. But I had
known you two days then, and I I thought there must
have been some mistake until " she broke off passion-
ately. " Oh, what is the use of all this ? " she gasped.
" It's lowering to your pride and to mine. If I have
said more than I meant to say, it is because I want you
to know why I never want to see you to hear of you
again."
He bowed his head beneath the storm. He deserved it,
he knew, and there was even a bitter pleasure in his retri-
bution, for her indifference had been hardest to bear.
" I understand," he said quietly. " I will go in a
moment. But first I mean that you shall hear what I have
to say."
She remembered that tone of command. He had used
it when he had lifted her in his arms and carried her help-
less to his camp-fire. The memory of it shamed her, as
his presence did now, and she walked on more rapidly.
Their path had been deserted, but they were now ap-
proaching the Avenue where the hurrying pedestrians and
88
CHICOT, THE JESTER
vehicles proclaimed the end of privacy. A deserted bench
was before them.
" Please stop here a moment," he pleaded. " I won't
keep you long." And when she would have gone on he
laid a hand on her arm. " You must ! " he insisted pas-
sionately. " You've got to, Jane. You'll do me a great
wrong if you don't. I've kept the faith with you since
then since I was mad there in the wilderness. You
didn't know or care, but I've kept the faith the good
you've done don't undo it now."
A passer-by was regarding them curiously and so
she sat, for Gallatin's look compelled her. She did not
understand what he meant, and in her heart she knew she
could not care whose faith he kept, or why, but she recog-
nized in his voice the note of a deep emotion, and was
conscious of its echo in her own spirit. Outwardly she
was as disdainful as before, and her silence, while it gave
him consent, was anything but encouraging. As he sat
down beside her the puppy, "Chicot," put his head upon
Gallatin's knees and looked up into his eyes, so Gallatin
put his hand on the dog's head and kept it there.
" I want you to know something about my people
about the Gallatins "
'* I know enough, I think."
" No you're mistaken. We are not all that you
think we are. Let me go on," calmly. " The Gallatins
have always stood for truth of speech and honesty of
purpose, and whatever their failings they have all been
called honorable men. Upon the Bench, at the Bar, in
the Executive chair, no word has ever been breathed
against their professional integrity or their civic pride.
My great grandfather was a Justice of the Supreme Court
of the United States, my grandfather a Governor of the
State of New York, my father "
89
THE SILENT BATTLE
Miss Loring made a gesture of protest.
" Wait," he insisted. " My father was a great lawyer
one of the greatest this City and State have ever known
and yet all of these men, mental giants of their day and
generation had had a weakness the same weakness
the weakness that I have. To one of them it meant the
loss of the only woman he had ever loved his wife and
his children ; to another the sacrifice of his highest polit-
ical ambition ; to my father a lingering illness of which he
subsequently died. That is my pedigree of great honor
and greater shame. History has dealt kindly because
their faults were those of their blood and race, for which
they themselves were not accountable. This may seem
strange to you because you have only learned to judge
men by their performances. The phenomenon of heredity
is new to you. People are taught to see the physical re-
semblances of the members of a family to its ancestors
but of the spiritual resemblance one knows nothing un-
less " his voice sunk until it was scarcely audible, " un-
less the spiritual resemblance is so strong that even Time
itself cannot efface it."
The girl did not speak. Her head was bowed but her
chin was still set firmly, and her eyes, though they looked
afar, were stern and unyielding.
" When I went to the woods, I was was recovering
from an illness. I went up there at the doctor's orders.
I had to go, and I I got better after a while. Then you
came, and I learned that there was something else in life
besides what I had found in it. I had never known "
" I can't see why I should listen to this, Mr. Gallatin."
" Because what happened after that, you were a part
of."
2? "
" It was you who showed me how to be well. That's
90
CHICOT, THE JESTER
all," he finished quietly. He rubbed the dog's ears be-
tween his fingers and got some comfort from Chicot's
sympathy, but went on in a constrained voice. " I was
hoping you might understand, that you might give me
charity if only the charity you once gave to the carcass
of a dead deer."
There was a long silence during which he watched her
downcast profile, but when at last she lifted her head, he
knew that she was still unyielding.
" You ask too much, Mr. Gallatin," she said constrain-
edly. " If you were dead you might have my pity even
my tears, but living living I can only only hold you in
abhorrence."
She rose from the bench quickly and shortened in the
leashes of her dogs.
" You you dislike me so much as that ? " he asked
dully.
" Dislike and and fear you, Mr. Gallatin. If you'll
excuse me "
She turned away and Gallatin started up. Dusk had
fallen and they were quite alone.
" I can't let you go like this," he whispered, standing
in front of her so that she could not pass him. " I can't.
You mean that you fear me because of what happened
My God! Haven't I proved to you that it was madness,
the madness of the Gallatin blood, which strikes at the
happiness of those it loves the best? I love you, Jane.
It's true. Night and day "
" You've told me that before," she broke in fearlessly.
" Must you insult me again. For shame ! Let me pass,
please."
It was the assurance of utter contempt. Gallatin
bowed his head and drew aside. There was nothing left
to do.
91
THE SILENT BATTLE
He stood there in the dusk, his head uncovered, and
watched her slender figure as it merged into the darkness.
Only the dog, Chicot, stopped, struggling, at his leash,
but its mistress moved on hurriedly without even turning
her head and was lost in the crowd upon the street. Gal-
latin lingered a moment longer immovable and then turned
slowly and walked into the depths of the Park, his face
pale, his dark eyes staring like those of a blind man.
Night had fallen swiftly, but not more swiftly than the
shadows on his spirit, among which he groped vaguely
for the elements that had supported him. He crept into
the night like a stricken thing, his feet instinctively
guiding him away from the moving tide of his fellow-beings
one of whom had just denied him charity without
which his own reviving faith in himself was again in
jeopardy. For two months he had fought his battle
silently with her image in his mind the image of a girl
who had once given him faith and friendship, whose fingers
had soothed him in fever, and whose eyes had been dark
with compassion the girl who had taught him the uses
of responsibility and the glorification of the labor of his
hands. That silent battle had magnified the image, vested
it with sovereign rights, given it the gentle strength by
which he had conjured, and he had fought joyfully, with
a new belief in his own destiny, a real delight in conquest.
His heart glowed with a dull wrath. Was it nothing that
he had come to her clean-handed again? The image that
he had conjured was fading in the sullen glow in the West
out of which she had come to him. Was this Jane ? The
Jane he knew had sorrowed with the falling of a bird,
mourned the killing of a squirrel and wept over the glazed
eyes of a dead deer. Was this Jane? This disdainful
woman with the modish hat and cold blue eye, this scorn-
92
CHICOT, THE JESTER
ful daughter of convention who sneered at sin and mocked
at the tokens of repentance?
The image was gone from his shrine, and in its place
a Nemesis sat enthroned a Nemesis in dark gray who
looked at him with the eyes of contempt and who called
herself Miss Loring. He was resentful of her name as
at an intrusion. It typified the pedantry of the con-
ventional and commonplace.
The arc lamps died and flared, their shadows leaping
like gnomes in and out of the obscurity. High in the air,
lights punctured the darkness where the hotels loomed.
Beside him on the drive gay turnouts hurried. The roar
of the city came nearer. Arcadia was not even a memory.
The Pride of the Gallatins was a sorry thing that
night. This Gallatin had bared it frankly, torn away its
rugged coverings, that a woman might see and know
him for what he was the best and the worst of him.
Even now he did .lot regret it ; for bitter as the retribution
had been, he knew that he had owed her that candor, for
it was a part of the lesson he had learned with Jane
the other Jane among the woods. This Jane remem-
bered not; for she had struck and had not spared him,
and each stinging phrase still pierced and quivered in the
wound that it had made.
Out of the blackness of his thoughts reason came
slowly. It was her right, of course, to deny him the priv-
ileges of her regard the rights of fellowship this he
had deserved and had expected, but the carelessness of
her contempt had been hard to bear. Mockery he had
known in women, and intolerance, but no one of his blood
had ever brooked contempt. His cheeks burned with the
sudden flush of anger and his hand upon his stick grew
rigid. A man might pay for such a thing as that but a
girl!
93
THE SILENT BATTLE
His muscles relaxed and he laughed outright. A snip
of a girl that he'd kissed in the woods, who now came out
dressed in broadcloth and sanctimony! How should it
matter what she thought of him? Absurd little Puritan!
Girls had been kissed before and had lived to be merry
over it. He was a fool to have built this enchanted fabric
into his brain, this castle of Micomicon which swayed and
toppled about his ears. Miss Loring, forsooth !
He took out his cigarette case in leisurely fashion
and struck a match, and its reflection sparkled gayly in his
eyes. He inhaled deeply and bent his steps toward the
nearest lights beyond the trees.
IX
THE LORINGS
i
THE house of Henry K. Loring, Captain of Industry
and patron saint of one or more great businesses,
was situated on that part of Central Park East
which Colonel Van Duyn called Mammon's Mile. The
land upon which it was built was more valuable even than
the sands of Pactolus ; and the architect, keenly conscious
of his obligations to the earth which supported this last
monument to his genius, had let no opportunity slip by
which would make the building more expensive for its
owner. Column, frieze, capital and entablature, all bore
the tokens of his playful imagination, and the hipped roof
which climbed high above its neighbors, ended in a riot
of finial and coping, as though the architect nearing the
end of his phantasy (and his commission) had crowded
into the few short moments which remained to him all the
ornament that had been forbidden him elsewhere. The
edifice had reached the distinction of notice by the con-
ductors of the " rubber-neck " busses on the Avenue and
of the reproach of Percy Endicott, whose scurrilous com-
ment that " it contained all of the fifty-seven varieties "
had now become a by-word down town.
But the lofty hall and drawing-room of the house
failed to fulfill the dire prediction of its ornate exterior,
for here the architect, as though with a sudden awakening
of the artistic conscience, had developed a simple scheme
in an accepted design which somewhat atoned for his
previous prodigality. A portrait of the master of the
95
house, by an eminent Englishman, hung in the hall, and
in the drawing-room were other paintings of wife and
daughter, by Americans and Frenchmen, almost, if not
equally, eminent. The continent of Europe had been ex-
plored in search of tapestries and ornaments for the
house of this new prince of finance, and evidences of rare
discrimination were apparent at every hand. And yet
with all its splendor, the house lacked an identity and an
ego. It was too sophisticated. Each object of art,
beautiful in itself, spoke of a different taste a taste
which had been bought and paid for. It was like a
museum which one enters with interest but without emo-
tion. It was a house without a soul.
It was toward this splendid mausoleum that the daugh-
ter of the house made her way after her meeting with Mr.
Gallatin in the Park. After one quick look over her
shoulder in the direction from which she had come, she
walked up the driveway hurriedly and rang the bell, enter-
ing the glass vestibule, from which, while she waited for
the door to be opened, she peered furtively forth. A man
in livery took the leashes of the poodles from her hand
and closed the door behind her.
" Has Mother come in, Hastings ? "
" Yes, Miss Loring. She has been asking for you."
Miss Loring climbed the marble stairway that led to
the second floor, but before she reached the landing, a
voice sounded in her ears, a thin voice pitched in a high
key of nervous tension.
" Jane ! Where have you been ? Don't you know
that we're going to the theatre with the Dorsey-Martin's
to-night? Madame Thiebout has been waiting for you
for at least an hour. What has kept you so long? "
" I was walking, Mother," said the girl. " I have a
headache. I I'm not going to-night."
96
THE LORINGS
Mrs. Loring's hands flew up in horrified protest.
" There ! " she cried. " I knew it. If it hadn't been a
headache, it would have been something else. It's absurd,
child. Why, we must go. You know how important it
is for us to keep in with the Dorsey-Martins. It's the
first time they've asked us to anything, and it means so
much in every way."
Miss Loring by this time had walked toward the door
of her own room, for her mother's voice when raised, was
easily heard in every part of the big house.
" I'm not going out to-night, Mother," she repeated
quietly, shutting the door behind them.
" Jane," Mrs. Loring cried petulantly. " Mrs. Dor-
sey-Martin is counting on you. She's asked some people
especially to meet you the Perrines, the Endicotts, and
Mr. Van Duyn, and you know how much lie will be dis-
appointed. Lie down on the couch for a moment, and
take something for your nerves. You'll feel better soon,
that's a dear girl."
The unhappy lady put her arm around her daughter's
waist and led her toward the divan.
" I knew you would, Jane dear. There. You've got
so much good sense "
Miss Loring sank listlessly on the couch, her gaze
fixed on the flowered hangings at her windows. Her body
had yielded to her mother's insistence, but her thoughts
were elsewhere. But as Mrs. Loring moved toward the
bell to call the maid, her daughter stopped her with a
gesture.
" It isn't any use, Mother. I'm not going," she said
wearily.
The older woman stopped and looked at her daughter
aghast.
" You really mean it, Jane ! You ungrateful girl !
97
THE SILENT BATTLE
I've always said that you were eccentric, but you're
obstinate, too, and self-willed. A headache ! " scornfully.
" Why, last year I went to the opera in Mrs. Poultney's
box when I thought I should die at any moment ! I don't
believe you have a headache. You're lying to me hiding
inside yourself the way you always do when I want your
help and sympathy most. I don't understand you at all.
You're no daughter of mine. When I'm trying so hard
to give you your proper place in the world, to have you
meet the people who will do us the most good! It's a
shame, I tell you, to treat me so. Why did I bring you
up with so much care? See that your associates out
home should be what I thought proper for a girl with the
future that your father was making for you? Why did
I take you abroad and give you all the advantages of
European training and culture? Have you taught music
and French and art? For this? To find that your only
pleasure is in books and walks in the Park and in the
occasional visits of the friends of your youth whom you
should long since have outgrown? It's an outrage to
treat me so an outrage ! "
Unable longer to control the violence of her emotions,
the poor woman sank into a chair and burst into tears.
Miss Loring rose slowly and put her arms around her
mother's shoulders.
"Don't, Mother!" she said softly. "You mustn't
cry about me. I'm not really as bad as you think I am.
I'm not worth bothering about, though. But what does
it matter this time? "
" It it's always this time," she wept.
" No I'll go anywhere you like, but not to-night.
I do feel badly. I really do. I I'm not quite up to
seeing a lot of people. Don't cry, dear. You know it
will make your eyes red."
98
THE LORINGS
Mrs. Loring set up quickly and touched her eyes with
her handkerchief.
" Yes, yes ; I know it does. I don't see how you can
hurt me so. I suppose my complexion is ruined and I'll
look like an old hag. It's a pity! Just after Thiebout
had taken such pains with me, too."
" Oh, no, Mother, you're all right. You always did
look younger than I do and besides you light up so, at
night."
Mrs. Loring rose and examined her face in a mirror.
" Oh, well ! I suppose I'll have to go without you. But
I won't forget it, Jane. It does really seem as though
the older I get the less my wishes are considered. But I'll
do my duty as I see it, in spite of you. Do you suppose
I had pour father build this house just for me to sit in
and look out of the windows at the passersby? Not I.
Until we came to New York I spent all of my life looking
at the gay world out of windows. I'm tired of playing
second-fiddle."
Jane Loring stood before her mother and touched her
timidly on the arm. The physical resemblance between
them was strong, and it was easily seen where the daugh-
ter got her beauty. Mrs. Loring had reached middle life
very prettily, and at a single impression it was difficult
to tell whether she was nearer thirty-three or fifty-three.
Her skin was of that satiny quality which wrinkles depress
but do not sear. Her nose was slightly aquiline like her
daughter's, but the years had thinned her lips and sharp-
ened her chin, the lines at her mouth were querulous rather
than severe, and when her face was placid, her forehead
was as smooth as that of her daughter. She was not a
woman who had ever suffered deeply, or who ever would,
and the petty annoyances which add small wrinkles to the
faces of women of her years had left no marks whatever.
99
THE SILENT BATTLE
But since the family had been in New York Jane had
noticed new lines between her brows as though her eyes,
like those of a person traveling upon an unfamiliar road,
were trying for a more concentrated and narrow vision;
and as she turned from the mirror toward the light, it
seemed to Jane that she had grown suddenly old.
" Mother, dear, you mustn't let trifles disturb you so.
It will age you frightfully ! You know how people are
always saying that you look younger than I do. I don't
want to worry you. I'll do whatever you like, go wher-
ever you like, but not to-night "
" What is the matter, Jane ? Has anything hap-
pened? "
" Oh, no, I I don't feel very well. It's nothing at
all. I'll be all right to-morrow. But you must g-o with-
out me. There's to be supper afterward, isn't there? "
" Oh, yes." And then despairingly : " You always
have your own way, in the end."
She kissed the girl coldly on the brow and turned to-
ward the door.
" You must hurry now," said Jane. " Mr. Van Duyn
will be coming soon, and dinner is early. Good night,
dear. I won't be down to-night. I think I'll lie down
for awhile."
Mrs. Loring turned one more helpless look in Jane's
direction and then went out of the room.
When the door had closed, Jane Loring turned the
key in the lock, then sank at full length on the couch, and
seemed to be asleep; but her head, though supported by
her arms, was rigid and her eyes, wide open, were staring
at vacancy. In the hall outside she heard the fall of
footsteps, the whisper of servants and the commotion of
her mother's descent to dinner. A hurdy-gurdy around
the corner droned a popular air, a distant trolley-bell
100
THE LORINGS
clanged and an automobile, exhaust open, dashed by the
house. These sounds were all familiar here, and yet she
heard them all ; for they helped to silence the echoes of a
voice that still persisted in her ears, a low sonorous voice,
whose tones rose and fell like the sighing of Kee-way-din
in the pine-trees of the frozen North. Her thoughts flew
to that distant spot among the trees, and she saw the
shimmer, of the leaves in the morning sunlight, heard* the
call of the birds and the whispering of the stream. It
was cold up there now, so bleak and cold. By this time
a white brush had painted out the glowing canvas of
summer and left no sign of what was beneath. And yet
somewhere hidden there, as in her heart, beneath that chill
mantle was the dust of a fire the gray cinders, the ashes
of a dead faith, and Kee-way-din moaned above them.
A tiny clock upon the mantle chimed the hour. Miss
Loring moved stiffly, and sat suddenly upright. She got
up at last and putting on a loose robe, went to her dress-
ing table, her chin high, her eye gleaming coldly at the
pale reflection there. The blood of the GaUatins ! Did he
think the magic of his name could make her forget the
brute in him, the beast in him, that kissed and spoke of
love while the thin blood of the GaUatins seethed in its
poison? What had the blood of the GaUatins to do with
her? Honor, virtue, truth? He had spoken of these.
What right had he to use them to one who had an indel-
ible record of his infamy? His kisses were hot on her
mouth even now kisses that desecrated, that profaned
the words he uttered. Those kisses! The memory of
them stifled her. She brushed her bare arm furiously
across her lips as she had done a hundred times before.
Lying kisses, traitorous kisses, scourging kisses, between
which he had dared to speak of love ! If he had not done
that, she might even have forgiven him the physical con-
101
THE SILENT BATTLE
tact that had defamed her womanhood. And yet to-night
he had spoken those same words again, repeated them with
a show of warmth, that his depravity might have some
palliation and excuse. He could, it seemed, be as insolent
as he was brutal.
Determined to think of him no more, she rang for her
maid and ordered dinner. Then, book in hand, she went
down stairs. Mr. Van Duyn, she was relieved to think,
had departed with Mrs. Loring, and she smiled almost
gaily at the thought that this evening at least was her
own. As she passed into the library, she saw that a
bright light was burning in her father's study, and she
peeped in at the door.
It was not a large room, the smallest one, in fact, upon
the lower floor, but unlike most of the other rooms, it had
a distinct personality. The furniture chairs, desks, and
bookcases was massive, almost too heavy to make for
architectural accordance, and this defect was made more
conspicuous by the delicacy and minuteness of the orna-
ments. There were two glass cases on a heavy table
filled with the most exquisite ivories, most of them Jap-
anese, an Ormolu case with a glass top enclosing snuff-
boxes and miniatures. Three Tanagra figures graced one
bookcase and upon another were several microscopes of
different sizes. The pictures on the walls, each of them
furnished with a light-reflector, were small with elabo-
rately carved gold frames a few of them landscapes, but
most of them " genre " paintings, with many small figures.
Before one discovered the owner of this room one
would have decided at once that he must be smallish,
slender, with stooping shoulders, gold-rimmed eye-glasses,
a jeweled watch-fob and, perhaps, a squint ; and the mas-
sive appearance of the present occupant would have
occasioned more than a slight shock of surprise. When
102
THE LOEINGS
Jane looked in, Henry K. Loring sat on the very edge of
a wide arm chair, with a magnifying glass in his hand
carefully examining a small oil painting which was
propped up under a reading light on another chair in
front of him. People who knew him only in his business
capacity might have been surprised at his quiet and criti-
cal delight in this studious occupation, for down town
he was best known by a brisk and summary manner, a
belligerent presence and a strident voice which smacked
of the open air. His bull-like neck was set deep .in his
wide shoulders as his keen eyes peered under their bushy
eyebrows at the object in front of him. He was so
absorbed that he did not hear the light patter of his
daughter's footsteps, and did not move until he heard the
sound of her voice.
" Well, Daddy 1 " she said in surprise. " What are
you doing here? "
His round head turned slowly as though on a pivot.
" Hello, Jane! Feeling better? " He raised his chin
and winked one eye expressively.
" I thought you were going with Mother," said Miss
iLoring.
" Lord, no ! You know I " and he laughed. " 7 had
a headache, too."
The girl smiled guiltily, but she came over and sat
upon the arm of the chair, and laid her hand along her
father's shoulder.
" Another picture ! Oh, Daddy, such extravagance !
Aren't you ashamed of yourself? So that's why you
stole away from the Dorsey-Martin's "
" It's another Verbeckhoeven, Jane," he chuckled de-
lightedly. " A perfect wonder ! The best he ever did,
I'm sure ! Come, sit down here and look at it."
Jane sank to the floor in front of the painting and
103
THE SILENT BATTLE
reached for the enlarging glass. But he held it away
from her.
" No, no," he insisted. " Wait, first tell me how
many things you can see with the naked eye."
" A horse, a cow, a man lying on the grass, trees,
distant haystacks and a windmill," she said slowly.
" And is that all? " he laughed.
" No, a saddle on the ground, a rooster on the fence
yes and some sheep at the foot of the hill."
" Nothing more? "
" No, I don't think so except the buckles on the
harness and the birds flying near the pigeon-cote."
" Yes yes is that all? "
" Yes, I'm sure it is."
" You're blind as a bat, girl," he roared delightedly.
" Look through this and see ! " and he handed her the
glass. " Buckles on the horses ! Examine it ! Don't you
see the pack thread it's sewed with? And the saddle gall
on the horse's back? And the crack in the left fore-
hoof? Did you ever see anything more wonderful? Now
look into the distance and tell me what else."
" Haymakers," gasped Miss Loring. " Two women,
a man and and, yes, a child. I couldn't see them at all.
There's a rake and pitch fork, too "
" And beyond ? "
" Dykes and the sails of ships a town and a tower
with a cupola ! "
" Splendid ! And that's only half. I've been looking
at it for an hour and haven't found everything yet. I'll
show them to you see "
And one by one he proudly revealed his latest discov-
eries. His passion for the minute almost amounted to
an obsession, and the appearance of his large bulk poring
over some delicate object of art was no unfamiliar one to
104
THE LORINGS
Jane, but she always humored him, because she knew that,
although he was proud of his great house, here was the
real interest that he found in it. His business enthralled
him, but it made him merciless, too, and in this harmless
hobby his daughter had discovered a humanizing influ-
ence which she welcomed and encouraged. It gave them
points of contact from which Mrs. Loring was far re-
moved, and Jane was always the first person in the house-
hold to share the delights of his latest acquisitions. But
to-night she was sure that her duty demanded a mild
reproof.
" It's an astonishing picture, Daddy, but I'm sure
we've both treated Mother very badly. You know you
promised her "
" So did you "
" But I I felt very badly."
" So did I," he chuckled, " very badly." He put his
arm around his daughter's shoulders and drew her closer
against his knees. "Oh, Jane, what's the use? Life's
too short to do a lot of things you don't want to do.
Your mother likes to go around. Let her buzz, she
likes it."
" Perhaps she does," Jane reproved him. " But then
you and I have our duty."
" Don't let that worry you, child. I do my duty
but I do it in a different way. Your mother stalks her
game in its native wild. I don't. I wait by the water
hole until it comes to drink, and then I kill it."
" But people here must have some assurance that new
families are acceptable "
" Don't worry about that, either. We'll do, I guess.
And when I want to go anywhere, or want my family to
go anywhere, I ask, that's all. The women don't run
New York society. They only think they do. If there's
105
THE SILENT BATTLE
any house you want to go to or any people you want to
come to see us, you tell me about it. There's more than
one way to skin a cat, but my way is the quickest. I'm
not going to have you hanging on the outer fringe. You
can be the jewel and the ornament of the year. Even
Mrs. Suydam will take you under her wing, if you want
her to."
" But I don't want to be under any one's wing. I
might turn out to be the ugly duckling."
He pressed her fondly in his great arms. " You are
a duckling it's a pity you're so ugly." He laughed at his
joke and broke off and seized the glass from her fingers.
" Jane," he cried, " you didn't find the woman inside
the farmhouse ! And the jug on the bench beside "
But Miss Loring's thoughts were elsewhere.
" Daddy, I don't want people to come to see me,
unless I like them," she went on slowly, " and I don't
want to go to peoples' houses just because they're fash-
ionable houses. I want to choose my friends for myself."
" You shall ! " he muttered, laying down his glass
with a sigh and putting his arm around her again. And
then with a lowered voice, " You haven't seen anybody
you you really like yet, daughter, have you? "
" No," said Miss Loring, with a positiveness which
startled him. " No one not a soul."
" Not Coleman Van Duyn "
" Daddy ! " she cried. " Of course not ! "
" And no one else ? "
" No one else."
He grunted comfortably. " I'm glad of that. I
haven't seen anybody good enough for you yet. I'm glad
it's not Van Duyn or young Sackett. I thought, per-
haps, you had," he finished.
"Why?"
106
THE LORINGS
" You've been so quiet lately."
" Have I? " she smiled into the fire. " I didn't know
it."
" Don't you let people worry you, and don't take this
society game too seriously. It's only a game, and a poor
one at that. It's only meant for old fools who want to
be young and young fools who want to be old. Those
people don't play it just for the fun of the thing to
them it's a business, and they work at it harder than a
lot of galley-slaves. You've got to try it, of course, I
believe in trying everything, but don't you let it get you
twisted the ball-room, with its lights, its flowers and
its pretty speeches. They're all part of the machinery.
The fellow you're going to marry won't be there, Jane.
He's too busy."
" Who do you mean ? "
" Oh, nobody in particular," he snorted. " But I
don't believe you'll ever marry a carpet-knight. You
won't if I can stop you, at any rate." He had taken out
a cigar and snipped the end of it carefully with a pocket-
knife. " They're a new kind of animal to me, these young
fellows about town," he said between puffs. " Beside a
man, they're what the toy pug is to the bulldog or the
Pomeranian is to the * husky.' Fine dogs they are," he
sniffed, " bred to the boudoir and the drawing-room ! "
" But some of them are very nice, Daddy," said Jane.
" You know you liked Dirwell De Lancey and William
Worthington."
" Oh, they're the harmless kind, playful and amus-
ing ! " he sneered. " But they're only harmless because
they haven't sense enough to be anything else. You'll
meet the other kind, Jane, the loafers and the drunkards."
Miss Loring leaned quickly forward away from him,
her elbows on her knees, and looked into the fire.
107
THE SILENT BATTLE
" I suppose so," she said quietly.
" It's the work of the social system, Jane. Most of
these old families are playing a losing game, their blood
is diluted and impoverished, but they still cling to their
ropes of sand. They marry their children to our children,
but God knows that won't help 'em. It isn't money they
need. Money can't make new gristle and cartilage. Money
can't buy new fiber."
The girl changed her position slightly. " I suppose
it's all true, but it seems a pity that the sons should
suffer for the sins of the fathers."
" It's written so unto the third and fourth genera-
tion, Jane."
" But the sons they have no chance no chance at
all? "
" Only what they can save out of the wreck. Take
young Perrine or young Gallatin, for instance. There's
a case in point. His people have all been rich and talented.
They've helped to make history, but they've all had the
same taint. Year by year they've seen their fortunes
diminish, but couldn't stem the tide against them. But
now the last of the line is content just to exist on the
fag-end of what's left him. He's clever, too, they say
went into the law, as his father did, but "
" Oh, Daddy, it's unjust cruel! " Jane Loring broke
in suddenly.
"What is?"
" Heredity "
" It's the law ! I feel sorry for that young fellow.
I like him, but I'd rather see you dead at my feet than
married to him."
Miss Loring did not move, but the hands around her
knee clasped each other more tightly.
" I don't know I've never been introduced to Mr.
Gallatin," she said quietly.
1.Q&
MR. VAN DUYN RIDES FORTH
MR. COLEMAN VAN DUYN lurched heavily up
the wide steps that led to the main corridor
of the Potowomac apartments and took the
elevator upstairs. He asked for mail and sat down at the
desk in his library with a frowning brow and protruding
jowl. Affairs down town had not turned out to his liking
this morning. For a month everything seemed to have
gone wrong. He was short on stocks that had struck
the trade-winds, and long on others that were hung in
the doldrums ; his luck at Auction had deserted him ; his
latest doctor had made a change in his regimen; a
favorite horse had broken a leg ; and last, but not by any
means the least, until this afternoon Fate had continued
to conspire to keep him apart from Miss Jane Loring.
They had met casually several times at people's houses
and once he had talked with her at the Suydam's, but the
opportunities for which he planned obstinately refused
to present themselves. He had finally succeeded in per-
suading her to ride with him to-day, and after writing a
note or two, he called his man and dressed with particu-
lar care. Mr. Van Duyn's mind was so constructed that
he could never think of more than one thing at a time;
but of that one thing he always thought with every dull
fiber of his brain, and Miss Loring's indifference to his
honorable intentions had preyed upon him to the detri-
ment of other and, perhaps, equally important interests.
Mr. Van Duyn was large of body and ponderous of
109
THE SILENT BATTLE
thought, and his decisions were only born after a pro-
longed and somewhat uncertain period of gestation. It
took him an hour to order his dinner, and at least two
hours to eat (and drink) it. And so when at the age of
five and thirty he had reached the conclusion that it was
time for him to marry, he had set about carrying his
resolution into effect with the same solemn deliberation
which characterized every other act of his life. He had
been accustomed always to have things happen exactly
as he planned them, and was of the opinion, when he
followed the Lorings to Canada, that nothing lacked in
the proposed alliance to make it eminently desirable for
both of the parties concerned. Matches he knew were no
longer made in Heaven and an opportunist like Henry K.
Loring could not long debate upon the excellence of the
arrangement.
Miss Loring's refusal of him up at camp, last Bummer,
had shocked him, and for awhile he had not been able to
believe the evidence of his ears, for Mrs. Loring had given
him to understand that to her at least he was a particu-
larly desirable suitor. When he recovered from his shock
of amazement, his feeling was one of anger, and his first
impulse to leave the Loring camp at once. But after a
night of thought he changed his mind. He found in the
morning that Miss Loring's refusal had had the curious
effect of making her more desirable, more desirable, indeed,
than any young female person he had ever met. He was
in love with her, in fact, and all other reasons for want-
ing to marry her now paled beside the important fact that
she was essential to his well being, his mental health and
happiness. He did not even think of her great wealth
as he had at first done, of the fortune she would bring
which would aid materially in providing the sort of an
establishment a married Van Duyn must maintain. In
110
ME. VAN DUYN RIDES FORTH
his cumbrous way he had decided that even had she been
penniless, she would have been necessary to him just the
same.
He had stayed on at camp, accepting Mrs. Loring's
advice that it would not be wise to take her refusal seri-
ously. She was only a child and could not know the mean-
ing of the honor he intended to confer. But in New York
her indifference continued to prick his self-esteem, and for
several weeks he had been following her about, sending her
flowers and losing no chance to keep his memory green.
And so, he examined his shiny boots with a narrowing
and critical eye, donned a favorite pink silk shirt and
tied on a white stock into which he stuck a fox-head pin.
He had put on more flesh in the last three years than he
needed, and his collar bands were getting too tight; but
as he looked in the mirror of his dressing-stand, he was
willing to admit that he was still the fine figure of a
man a Van Duyn every inch of him. It was in the midst
of this agreeable occupation that Mr. Worthington en-
tered, a corn-flower in his buttonhole and otherwise ar-
rayed for conquest. Van Duyn looked over his shoulder
and nodded a platonic greeting.
" Tea-ing it, Bibby?"
" Oh, yes. Might as well do that as sit somewhere.
Just stopped in on my way down." Worthington's apart-
ment was above. And then, " Lord Coley, you are filling
out! Riding?"
" No," grinned the other, " going to pick strawberries
on the Metropolitan Tower. Don't I look like it? "
Worthington smiled. Van Duyn's playfulness always
much resembled that of a young St. Bernard puppy.
" I thought you'd given it up. Her name, please."
Mr. Van Duyn refused to reply.
" It's the Loring girl, isn't it? " Worthington queried
111
THE SILENT BATTLE
cheerfully. " I thought so. ' You lucky devil ! " He
touched the tips of two fingers and thumb to his lips, and
with eyes heavenward laid them upon his heart. " She's
an angel, a blue-eyed angel, fresh from the rosy aura
of a cherubim. Oh, Coley, what the devil can she see in
you?"
" Don't be an ass, Bibby," Van Duyn grunted wrath-
fully.
" I'm not an ass. I'm in love, you amatory Behemoth,
in love as I've never been before with an angel fresh
from Elysium."
" Meaning Miss Jane Loring? "
" Who else? There's no one else," dolefully. " There
never has been any one else there never will be any one
else. You're in love with her, too ; aren't you, Coley ? "
" Well, of all the impudence ! "
" Nonsense. I'm only living up to the traditions of
our ancient friendship. I'm giving you a fair warning.
I intend to marry the lady myself."
The visitor had lit a cigarette and was calmly helping
himself to whisky. Van Duyn threw back his head and
roared with laughter.
"You! Good joke. Haw! You've got as many
lives as a cat, Bibby. Been blowing out your brains every
season for fifteen years." He struggled into his coat and
squared himself before the mirror. " Wasting your time,"
he finished dryly.
"Meaning that you are the chosen one? Oh, I say,
Coley, don't make me laugh. You'll spoil the set of my
cravat. You know, I couldn't care for her if I thought
her taste was as bad as that. Not engaged are you? "
" Oh, drop it," said the other. " Remarks are per-
sonal. Miss Loring is fine girl. Fellow gets her will be
lucky." He had poured himself a drink, but paused in the
112
MR. FAN DUYN RIDES FORTH
act of taking it, and asked, " Haven't seen Gallatin lately,
have you? "
" No nobody has since that night at the Club.
He'd been sitting tight and God knows that's no joke!
Good Lord, but he did fall off with a thud! Been on
the wagon six months, too. He ought to let it alone."
" He can't," said Van Duyn grimly.
" Well, six months is a good while for Phil but he
stuck it out like a little man." And then ruminatively,
" I wonder what made him begin again. He'd been re-
fusing all the afternoon. Came in later with his jaw set
white and somber you know and started right in. It's
a great pity ! I'd like to have a talk with Phil. I'm fond
of that boy. But he's so touchy. Great Scott ! I tried
it once, and I'll never forget the look he gave me. Never
again ! I'd as leave try a curtain lecture on a Bengal
tiger."
" What's the use? We've got troubles of our own."
" Not like his, Coley. With me it's a diversion, with
you it's an appetite, with Phil it's a disease. That's why
he went to Canada this summer. By the way, you were in
the woods with the Lorings, of course you heard about
that girl that Phil met up there? "
" No," growled the other.
" Seems to be a mystery. Percy Endicott says "
Van Duyn set his glass on the table with a crash that
broke it, then rose with an oath.
" Think I'm going to listen to that rubbish? " he
muttered. " Who cares what happened to Gallatin ? /
'don't, for one. As for Percy, he's a lyin', little gossipin*
Pharisee. I don't believe there was any girl "
" But Gallatin admits it."
" D Gallatin ! " he roared.
Worthington looked up in surprise, but rose and
113
THE SILENT BATTLE
kicked his trousers legs into their immaculate creases.
" Oh, if you feel that way about it " He took up his
silk hat and brushed it with his coat sleeve. "I think I'll
be toddling along."
"Oh, don't get peevish, Bibby. You like Phil Gal-
latin. Well, I don't. Always too d starchy for me
anyway." He paused at the table in the library while he
filled his cigarette case from a silver box. Then he
examined Worthington's face. " You didn't hear the
girl's name mentioned, did you? " he asked carelessly.
" Oh, no, even Gallatin didn't know it." Worthington
had put on his hat and was making for the door. " Of
course it doesn't matter anyway."
Van Duyn followed, his man helping them into their
overcoats.
"Can't drop you anywhere, can I, Bibby? I've got
the machine below."
" No, thanks. I'll walk."
On the ride uptown Coleman Van Duyn glowered mood-
ily out at the winter sunlight. He had heard enough of this
story they were telling about Phil Gallatin and the
mysterious girl in the woods. He alone knew that the
main facts were true, because he had had incontestible
evidence that the mysterious girl was Jane Loring. All
the circumstances as related exactly tallied with his own
information received from the two guides who had brought
her into Loring's camp. And in spite of his knowl-
edge of Jane's character, the coarse embroidery that gos-
sip was adding to the tale had left a distinctly disagree-
able impression. Jane Loring had spent the better part of
a week alone with Phil Gallatin in the heart of the Cana-
dian wilderness. Van Duyn did not like Gallatin. They
had known each other for years, and an appearance of fel-
lowship existed between them, but in all tastes save one
MR. FAN DUYN HIDES FORTH
they had nothing in common. He and Gallatin had locked
horns once before on a trifling matter, and the fact that
the girl Van Duyn intended to marry had been thrown
upon the mercies of a man of Gallatin's stamp was gall
and wormwood to him. But when he thought of Jane he
cursed the gossips in his heart for a lot of meddlers and
scandal-mongers. If he knew anything of human na-
ture and like most heavy deliberate men, he believed his
judgment to be infallible, Jane was the blue-eyed angel
Mr. Worthington had so aptly described, " fresh from
the rosy aura of a cherubim." But there were many
things to be explained. One of the guides that had found
her had dropped a hint that it was no guide's camp
that she had visited in the woods, as she had told them
at camp. And why, if she had been well cared for
there, had she fled? What relations existed between
Jane Loring and Phil Gallatin that made it necessary
for her to hide the fact of his existence? What had
Gallatin done that she should wish to escape him? Van
Duyn's turgid blood seethed darkly in his veins. Gallatin
had acknowledged the main facts of the story. Why
hadn't he told it all, as any other man would have done
without making all this mystery about it? Or why hadn't
he denied it entirely instead of leaving a loophole for the
gossip? Why hadn't he lied, as any other man would
have done, like a gentleman? Only he, Van Duyn, had
an inkling of the facts, and yet his lips were sealed. He
had had to sit calmly and listen while the story was told
in his presence at the club, while his fingers were aching
to throttle the man who was repeating it. Phil Gallatin !
D him!
It was, therefore, in no very pleasant frame of mind
that Van Duyn got down at Miss Loring's door. The
horses were already at the carriage drive and Miss
115
THE SILENT BATTLE
Loring came down at once. Mr. Van Duyn helped her
into the saddle, and in a few moments they were in the
Park walking their horses carefully until they reached
the nearest bridle path, when they swung into a canter,
Miss Loring had noted the preoccupation of her com"
panion, and after one or two efforts at cheerful common-
place, had subsided, only too glad to enjoy in silence the
glory of the afternoon sunlight. But presently when
the horses were winded, she pulled her own animal into
a walk and Van Duyn quickly imitated her example.
" Oh, I'm so glad I came, Coley," she said genuinely,
with mounting color and sparkling eyes.
"Are you?" he panted, Jane's optimism at last de-
feating his megrims. "Bully, isn't it? Ever hunted?"
" Yes, one season at Pau."
" Jolly set, hunting set. Jolliest in New York."
" Yes, I know some of them Mr. Kane, Mr. Spencer,
Miss Jaffray, the Rawsons and the Penningtons. They
wouldn't do this, though; they turn up their noses at
Park riding. Aren't you hunting this year? "
"No," he grunted. "Life's too short." He might
also have added that he wasn't up to the work, but he
didn't. Jane noticed the drop in his voice and examined
him curiously.
" You don't seem very happy to-day, Coley."
" Any reason you can think of why I should be ? " he
muttered.
" Thousands," she laughed, purposely oblivious. " The
joy of living "
" Oh, rot, Jane ! "
" Coley ! You're not polite ! "
" Oh, you know what I mean well enough," he insisted
sulkily.
" Do I? Please explain."
116
MR. VAN DUYN RIDES FORTH
" Don't you know, this is the first time I've been with
you alone since the woods ? " he stammered.
Jane laughed.
" I'm sorry I have such a bad effect on you. You
asked me to come, you know."
" Oh, don't tease a chap so. What's the use? Been
try in' to see you for weeks. You've been avoidin' me,
Jane. What I want to know is why? "
" I don't want to avoid you. If I did, I shouldn't be
with you to-day, should I? "
There seemed to be no reply to that and Van Duyn's
frown only deepened.
" I thought we were goin* to be friends," he went on
slowly. " We had a quarrel up at camp, but I thought
we'd straightened that out. You forgave me, didn't
you?"
" Oh, yes. I couldn't very well do anything else. But
you'll have to admit I'd never done anything to war-
rant "
" I was a fool. Sorry for what I did, too. When
you got back I told you so. I'm a fool still, but I've got
sense enough to be patient. Pretty rough, though, the
way you treat me. Thinkin' about you most of the time
all upset don't sleep the way I ought things don't
taste right. I'm in love with you, Jane "
"I thought you had promised not to speak of that
again," she put in with lowered voice.
" Oh, hang it ! I've got to speak of it," he growled.
" When a fellow wants to marry a girl, he can't stay in
the background and see other fellows payin' her atten-
tion hear stories of "
Jane looked up, her eyes questioning sharply and
Coleman Van Duyn stopped short. He had not meant
to go so far.
117
THE SILENT BATTLE
" Stories about me? "
He wouldn't reply, and only glowered at his horse's
ears.
"What story have you heard about me, Coley? " she
asked quietly.
" Oh, nothing," he mumbled. " It wasn't about you,"
he finished lamely.
" It's something that concerns me then. You've made
that clear. You must tell me at once," she said de-
cisively.
Van Duyn glanced at her and dropped his gaze, aware
for the second time that this girl's spirit when it rose
was too strong for him. And yet there was an anxiety
in her curiosity, too, which gave him a sense of mastery,
" Oh, just gossip," he said cautiously. " Everybody
gets his share of it, you know." Then he laughed aloud,
rather too noisily, so that she wasn't deceived.
" It's something I have a right to know, of course. li;
must be unpleasant or you wouldn't have thought of it
again. You must tell me, Coley."
" What difference does it make ? "
" None. But I mean to hear it just the same."
" Oh ! " He saw that her face was set in resolute
lines, so he looked away, his lids narrowing, while he
thought of a plan which might turn his information to
his own advantage.
" It isn't about you at all," he said slowly, sparring
for time.
" Then why did you think of it? " She had him cor-
nered now and he knew it, so he fought back sullenly,
looking anywhere but at her.
" You haven't given me a fair show, Jane. Up in
camp we got to be pretty good pals until until you
found out I wanted to marry you. Even then you said
118
MR. FAN DUYN RIDES FORTH
there wasn't any reason why we shouldn't be friends. I
lost my head that morning and made a fool of myself
and you ran away and got lost. When the guides brought
you back you were different, utterly changed. Something
had happened. You wouldn't have been so rotten to me,
just because because of that. Besides you forgave me.
Didn't I acknowledge it? And haven't I done the square
thing, let you alone, watched you from a distance, almost
as if I didn't even know you? I tell you, Jane "
" What has this to do with "
" Wait," he said, his eyes now searching hers, his
color deepening as he gathered courage, while Jane Loring
listened, conscious that her companion's intrusiveness
and brutality were dragging her pride in the dust. " You
went off into the woods and stayed five days. You told
us when you got back to camp that you'd been found by
an Indian guide and that you hadn't been able to find the
trail and all that sort of thing. Everybody believed
you. We were all too glad to get you back. What I
want to know is why you told that story? What was
your reason for keeping back "
" It was true " she stammered, but his keen eyes
saw that her face was blanching and her emotion infuri-
ated him.
" All except that the Indian guide was Phil Gallatin,"
he said brutally.
The hands that held the reins jerked involuntarily
and her horse reared and swerved away, but in a moment
she had steadied him ; and when Van Duyn drew alongside
of her, she was still very pale but quite composed.
" How do you know that? " she asked in a voice the
tones of which she still struggled to control,
He waited a long moment, the frown gathering more
119
darkly. He had still hoped, it seemed, that she mighfi
deny it.
" Oh, I know it, all right," he muttered, glowering.
Her laughter rather surprised him. " Your keenness
does you credit," she continued. " I met a stranger in
the woods and stayed at his camp. There's nothing
extraordinary in that "
" No," he interrupted quickly. " Not in that. The
extraordinary thing is that you should have ;> he
hesitated.
" Lied about it ? " she suggested calmly. " Oh, I don't
think we need discuss that. I'm not in the habit of talk-
ing over my personal affairs."
Her indifference inflamed him further and his eyes
gleamed maliciously.
" It's a pity Gallatin hasn't a similar code."
Her eyes opened wide. " What do you mean? "
she asked haltingly.
" That Gallatin is telling of the adventure himself,"
he said with a bold laugh.
" He is telling of the adventure " she repeated,
and then paused, her horrified eyes peering straight ahead
of her. " Oh, how odious of him how odious ! There is
nothing to tell Coley absolutely nothing " And then
as a new thought even more horrible than those that had
gone before crossed her mind, " What are they saying?
Has he has he spoken my name? Tell me. I can't be-
lieve that of him not that ! "
Van Duyn was not sure that the emotion which he felt
was pity for her or pity for himself, but he looked away,
his face reddening uncomfortably, and when he spoke his
voice was lowered.
" I heard the story," he said with crafty deliberate-
ness, " at the Club. I got up and left the room."
120
MR. FAN DUYN EIDES FORTH
"Was was Mr. Gallatin there?"
" No not there ? " he muttered. " He came in as I
left. You know it wouldn't have been possible for me to
stay."
" What are they saying, Coley ? " she gasped, seeking
in one breath to plumb the whole depth of her humilia-
tion. " You must tell me. Do you mean that they're
saying that that Mr. Gallatin and I were ? " she
couldn't finish, and he made no effort to help her, for her
troubled face and every word that she uttered went fur-
ther to confirm his suspicions and increase his misery.
"Do you believe that?" she whispered again. "Do
you? " And then, as he refused to turn his head or
reply, " Oh, how dreadful of you ! "
She put spurs to her horse and before he was well
aware of it was vanishing among the trees. His animal
was unequal to the task he set for it, for he lost sight of
her, found her again in the distance and thundered after,
breathing heavily and perspiring at every pore, hating
himself for his suspicions, and filled with terror at the
thought of losing her. Never had he been so mad for the
possession of her as now, and floundered helplessly on like
an untrained dog in pursuit of a wounded bird. But he
couldn't catch up with her. And when, later, he stopped
at the Loring house, she refused to see him.
121
XI
THE CEDARCROFT SET
'ISS LORING had no engagements for the even-
ing, and excusing herself to her family, spent it
alone in her room, where for a long while she
sat or walked the floor, in dire distress, her faculties
benumbed like those of a person who has suffered a calami-
tous grief or a physical violence. Sentence by sentence
she slowly rehearsed the conversation of which she had
been the subject, seeking vainly for some phrase that
might lead her into the paths of comprehension and peace.
The thought of Coleman Van Duyn loomed large, indeed,
but another figure loomed larger. She was new to the
world of men, of men of the world, such as she had met
since she had been in New York, but it had never occurred
to her to believe that there could be a person so base as
Philip Gallatin. He weakened her faith in herself and in
all the world. The dishonor he had offered her had been
enough without this added insult to the memory of it.
Downtown they were using her name scurrilously in the
same breath with that of Phil Gallatin, speaking her name
lightly as they spoke of of other women they couldn't
respect. Phil Gallatin's name and hers ! It was the
more bitter, because in her heart she now knew that she
had given him more of her thoughts than any man had
ever had before. Oh, what kind of a world was this into
which she had come, which was made up of men who
held their own honor and the honor of the women of their
own kind so lightly? People received him, she knew. She
122
THE CEDARCROFT SET
had even heard of his being at the Suydams on an evening
when she had been there. She had not seen him, and
thanked God for that; for since their meeting in the
Park, some weeks ago, her conscience had troubled her
more than once, and her heart had had curious phases of
uncertainty. " What if what he had said about his own
dependence on her were true? " She had questioned her-
self, " What if," as in a few unrelated moments of moral
irresponsibility she had madly speculated, " what if he
really loved her as he said he did and that his mad
moment in the woods their mad moment, as she had
even fearfully acknowledged, was only the supreme ex-
pression of that reality? " He had solemnly sworn that
he had kept the faith that since that afternoon in the
woods he had not broken it. She saw his dark eyes now
and the animal-like look of irresolution which had been in
them when she had turned away and left him.
Could this man they were talking of in the clubs
who gibed at the virtue of women to make a good story,
be the same smiling fugitive of the north woods, the man
with the laugh of a boy, the tenderness of a woman and
the strength cf moral fiber to battle for her as he had
done against the odds of the wilderness? It was unbe-
lievable. And yet how could Coleman Van Duyn have
repeated the story if he had not heard it? There was
no reply for that. Weary at last, trying to reconcile
the two irreconcilable facts, she fell into a fit of nervous
tears at the end of which, relaxed and utterly exhausted,
she sank to sleep.
Even then, though reason slept, her imagination had!
no rest, and she dreamed, one vision predominant that
of a tall figure who carried upon his back the carcass
of a deer, his somber eyes peering over his shoulder at a
shadow which followed him in the underbrush. But when
THE SILENT BATTLE
she spoke to the figure it smiled and the shadow behind
disappeared. In her dream, she found this a curious
phenomenon, and when the shadow returned, as it pres-
ently did, she spoke again. The shadow vanished and
the smile appeared on the face of the man with the burden.
Several times she repeated this experiment and each time
the same thing happened. But in a moment the shadow
formed into a definite shape, the bulky shape of Coleman
Van Duyn it seemed, and growing larger as it came,
closed in over them both. This time when she tried to
speak, her lips would utter no sound. She awoke suffo-
cating, and sat up in bed, gasping for breath. She
looked about her and gave a long sigh of relief, for day
had broken and the cool -dawn was filtering through the
warm flowered pattern on her window hangings, flooding
the room with a rosy light.
That shadow! It had been so tangible, so real that
she had fought at it with her bare hands when it had
descended above Phil Gallatin's head! She lay awhile
looking up at the painted ceiling, her eyes wide open,
fearing that she might sleep again and the dream return ;
and then, without ringing for her maid, got out of bed
abruptly, slipping her small feet into fur-lined room-slip-
pers and putting on a flowered kimono. She was angry
at herself for having dreams that could not be explained.
What right had Phil Gallatin's image to persist in her
thoughts, even when she slept? And what did the vision
mean? The shadow must be the shadow that had ever
followed the Gallatins, and yet it looked like Coley Van
Duyn ! She laughed outright, and the sound of her voice
echoed strangely in her ears. She had thought the shadow
ominous, but she could laugh now because it looked like
Coley !
She drew her bath and peered out of the window at
THE CEDARCROFT SET
the sunlight. Familiar sounds and sights reassured her,
and with her plunge came rehabilitation, physical and
mental. Poor Coley! How jealous he was, and how un-
ghostlike! So jealous, perhaps, that he had lied to her!
The thought of the possibility of this moral turpitude
caused her to pause in the midst of her toilet and smile at
her reflection in the mirror. It was a gay little smile
which seemed out of place on the pale image which con-
fronted her. She drew back her curtains and the morning
sunlight streamed into the room bringing life and good
cheer. No, she would not could not believe what Coley
had told of Philip Gallatin.
She dressed quickly, and before her astonished maid
had her eyes open, had found the dog, Chicot, downstairs,
and was out in the frosty air breasting the keen north
wind in the Avenue. It was Kee-way-din that kissed her
brow, Kee-way-din that brought the flush of health and
youth into her cheeks, the breath of Kee-way-din which
came with a winter message of hopefulness from the dis-
tant north woods. Chicot was joyful, too, and bounded
like a harlequin along the walk and into the reaches of
the Park. This was an unusual privilege for him, for his
mistress carried not even a leash, and he was bent on
making the most of his opportunities. He seemed to be
aware that only business of unusual importance would
take her out at this hour of the day, and came back bark-
ing and whining his sympathy and encouragement. Like
most jesters, Chicot was foolish, but he had a heart under
his Eton jacket, and he took pains that she should know it.
Chicot's philosophy cleared the atmosphere. Her
course of action now seemed surprisingly clear to Jane.
Philip Gallatin being no more and no less to her than any
other man, deserved exactly the consideration to which
her gratitude entitled him, deserved the punishment which
125
THE SILENT BATTLE
fitted the crime precisely the punishment which she had
'given him. If they met, she would simply ignore him as
she did other men to whom she was indifferent, and she
thought that she could trust herself to manage the rest
if, indeed, her rebuff had not already made her intentions
clear to Gallatin. Refusing to meet him or cutting him in
public would only draw attention and give him an impor-
tance with which she was far from willing to invest him.
If, as she had said, he was not responsible for his actions,
he was a very unfortunate young man, and deserved her
pity as much as her condemnation; and it was obvious
that he could not be more responsible for his actions in
New York than elsewhere. She still refused to believe
that her name had passed his lips, for of his honor in all
things save one, reason as well as instinct now assured
her.
The story of Coleman Van Duyn's no longer persisted.
In spite of herself she made a mental picture of the two
men, and Van Duyn suffered in the comparison. Coley
had lied to her. That was all.
She walked briskly for twenty minutes and then sat
down on a bench, the very one she remembered, upon
which Mr. Gallatin three weeks ago had sat and told her
of his misfortunes. Chicot came and sat in front of her,
his muzzle on her knees, and looked up rapturously into
her eyes.
" You're such a sinful little dorglums, Chicot," she
said to him. " Don't you know that ? To go running off
and bringing back disagreeable and impudent vagabonds
for me to send away? You're quite silly. And your
moustache is precisely like Colonel Broadhurst's, except
that it's painted black. Are you really as wise as you
look? I don't believe you are, because you're dressed like
a harlequin, and harlequins are never wise, or they
126
THE CEDARCROFT SET
shouldn't be harlequins. Wise people don't wear top-
knots on their heads and rings upon their tails, Cliicot.
Oh, it's all very well for you to be so devoted now, but
you'd run away at once if another vagabond came along
a tall vagabond with dark eyes and a deep voice that ap-
pealed to your own little vagabond heart. You're faith-
less, Chicot, and I don't care for you at all."
She rubbed his glossy ears between her fingers, and
he put one dusty paw upon her lap. " No, I can't forgive
you," she went on. " Never ! All is over between us.
You're a dissipated little vagabond, that's what you are,
with no sense of responsibility whatever. I'm going to put
you in a deep dark dungeon, on a diet of dust and dun-
garee, where you shall stay and meditate on your sins,
Not another maron not one. You're absolutely worth-
less, Chicot, that's what you are worthless ! "
The knot on the end of the dog's tail whisked ap-s
proval; for, though he understood exactly what she said,
it was the correct thing for dog-people to act only by
tones of voice, but when his mistress got up he frisked
homeward joyfully, with a gratified sense of his own im-
portant share in the conclusion of the business of the
morning.
Jane Loring entered upon the daily round thought-
fully, but with a new sense of her responsibilities. For the
first time in her life she had had a sense of the careless
cruelty of the world for those thrown unprotected upon j
its good will. There was a note of plethoric contrition in
her mail from Coleman Van Duyn. She read it very care-
fully twice as though committing it to memory, and then
tearing it into small pieces committed it to the waste
basket, a hard little glitter in her eyes which Mr. Van
Duyn might not have cared to see. She made a resolve
that from this hour she would live according to another
127
THE SILENT BATTLE
code. She was no longer the little school-girl from the
convent in Paris. She was full-fledged now and would
take life as she found it, her eyes widely opened, not
with the wonder of adolescence, but keen for the excite-
ments as well as the illusions that awaited her.
She got down from her limousine at the Pennington's
house in Stuyvesant Square that night alone. Mr. Van
Duyn, in his note, had pleaded to be allowed to stop for
her in his machine and bring her home, but she had not
called him on the 'phone as he had requested. It was a
dinner for some of the members of the Cedarcroft set, as
formal as any function to which this gay company was
invited, could ever be. Jane was a moment late and
hurried upstairs not a little excited, for though she had
known Nellie Pennington in Pau, the guests were probably
strangers to her. In the dressing-room, where she found
Miss Jaffray and another girl she had not met, a maid
helped her off with her cloak and carriage boots and,
when she was ready to go down, handed her a silver tray
bearing a number of small envelopes. She selected the
one which bore her name, carelessly, wondering whether
her fortunes for the evening were to be entrusted to Mr.
|Worthington or to Mr. Van Duyn, to find on the enclosed
card the name of Philip Gallatin.
She paled a little, hesitated and lingered in the dark-
Jness by the door under the mental plea of rearranging her
[roses, her mind in a tumult. She had hardly expected to
find him here, for Mr. Gallatin, she had heard, hunted no
more and Nellie Pennington had never even mentioned
his name. What should she do? To say that she did not
wish to go in with a man high in the favor of her host
and hostess as well as every one else, without giving a
reason for her refusal would be gratuitously insulting to
her hostess as well as to Mr. Gallatin. She glanced help-
128
THE CEDARCROFT SET
lessly at Nina Jaffray, who was leaning toward the pier
glass, a stick of lip-salve in her fingers, and realized at
once that there was to be no rescue from her predicament.
Besides, changing cards with Miss Jaffray would not help
matters, for over in the men's dressing room Mr. Gallatin
by this time had read the card which told him that Miss
Loring was to be his dinner partner.
She could not understand how such a thing had hap-
pened. Had Nellie Pennington heard? That was im-
possible. There were but three people in New York who
knew about Mr. Gallatin and herself, and the third one
was Coley Van Duyn, who had guessed at their relations.
Could Philip Gallatin have dared dared to ask this favor
of their hostess after Jane's repudiation of him in the
Park? She couldn't believe that either. Fate alone could
have conspired to produce a situation so full of exquisite
possibilities. She waited a moment, gathering her shat-
tered resources ; and with that skill at dissimulation which
men sometimes ape, but never actually attain, she thrust
her arm through Miss Jaffray's and the two of them went
down the wide stairway, a very pretty picture of youth
and unconcern.
Jane's eyes swept the room with obtrusive carelessness,
and took in every one in it, including the person for whom
the glance was intended, who saw it from a distant corner,
and marveled at the smile with which she entered and
greeted her hostess.
" Hello, Nina ! Jane, dear, so glad you could come ! "
said Nellie Pennington. " Oh, what a perfectly darling
dress ! You went to Doucet after all for your debutante
trousseau. Perhaps, I'd better call it your layette you
absurd child ! Oh, for the roses of yesterday ! You know
Betty Tremaine, don't you? And Mr. Savage? Coley
jdo stop glaring and tell Phil Gallatin to come here at
129
THE SILENT BATTLE
once. My dear, you're going in with the nicest man
a very great friend of mine, and I want you to be particu-
larly sweet to him. Hear? Mr. Gallatin you haven't
met I know. Here he is now. Miss Loring Mr. Gal-
latin."
Jane nodded and coolly extended her hand. " Plow do
you do," she said, tepidly polite, and then quickly to her
hostess. "It was very nice of you to think of me, Nellie,
It seems ages since Pau, doesn't it? "
" Ages ! You unpleasant person. When you get as
old as I am, you'll never mention the flight of time.
Ugh!"
Her shudder was very effective. Nellie Pennington
was thirty-five, looked twenty, and knew it.
" What difference does it make," laughed Jane,
" when Time forgets one ? "
" Very prettily said, my dear. Time may amble, but
he's too nimble to let you get him by the forelock." And
turning she greeted the late comers.
Jane turned to Mr. Gallatin, who was saying some-
thing at her ear.
" I beg your pardon," she said.
" I hope you don't think that I I am responsible for
this situation," he repeated.
" What situation, Mr. Gallatin? "
" I hope you don't think that I knew I was to go in to
dinner with you."
She laughed. " I hadn't really thought very much
about it."
" I didn't I didn't even know you were to be here.
It's an accident a cruel one. I wouldn't have had it hap-
pen for anything in the world."
" Do you think that's very polite ? " she asked lightljr,
130
" I mean " he stammered, " that you'll have to acquit
me of any intention "
" You mean," she interrupted quickly, with widely
Opened eyes, " that you don't want to go in to dinner with
me? I think that can easily be arranged," and she turned
away from him toward her hostess. But he quickly inter-
posed.
" Don't, Miss Loring. Don't do that. It isn't neces-
sary. I didn't want your evening spoiled."
" I'm afraid I don't understand," she said, and the
curl of her lip did not escape him. "That could hardly
happen. But, if you have any doubts about it, per-
haps "
*' It was of you I was thinking ' :
" That's very kind, I'm sure. I don't see any reason
why we shouldn't get on admirably. I'm not so difficult
as you seem to suppose. Why should you spoil my even-
ing, Mr. Gallatin? "
She turned and looked him full in the eyes ; and he
knew then what he had suspected at first, that she meant
to deny that they had ever met before.
He gazed at her calmly, a slow smile twisting his lips,
acknowledging her rebuke, and acquiescing silently in her
position.
" I'm sure I don't wish to spoil it. I'm only too happy
to to be so much honored."
" There ! " she laughed easily. " You can be polite,
can't you? Do you hunt, Mr. Gallatin? " quickly chang-
ing the topic to one less personal. " I thought nobody
ever dined here unless he was at least first cousin to a
Centaur."
" Oh, no," he laughed. " Mrs. Pennington isn't so
exclusive as that. But I'm sure she'd have her own
hunters in to table if she could. This is quite the liveliest
131
THE SILENT BATTLE
house ! Mrs. Pennington is the most wonderful woman in
the world, and the reason is that she absolutely refuses
to be bored. She likes Centaurs because they're mostly
natural creatures like herself, but she hasn't any use for
Dinosaurs ! "
A general movement toward the table, and Jane took
Phil Gallatin's arm and followed. A huge horse-shoe of
Beauties formed the centerpiece, from which emerged the
Cedarhurst Steeplechase Cup, won three years in succes-
sion by Dick Pennington. The decorations of the room
were in red and gold, and a miniature steeplechase course
was laid around the table with small fences, brush and
water jumps, over which tiny equestrians in pink coats
gayly cavorted. Miss Loring found to her delight that
the neighbor on her other side was Mr. Worthington. At
least she was not to be without resource if the situation
grew beyond her. But Mr. Gallatin having made token of
his acquiescence, gave no sign of further intrusion. His
talk was of the people about them, of their ambitions and
their lack of them, of motoring, of country houses and
the latest news in Vanity Fair, to which she listened with
interest, casually questioning or venturing an opinion.
The only role possible for her was one of candor, and she
played it with cool deliberation, carefully guiding his re-
marks into the well-buoyed channels of the commonplace.
And while he talked amusedly, gayly even, in the
glances that she stole at his profile, she found that he had
grown thinner, and that the dark shadows under his eyes,
which she remembered, were still to be found there. The
fingers of his right hand slowly revolved the stem of a
flower. All of his wine glasses she discovered he had
turned bowl downward. His cocktail he had slowly pushed
aside until it was now hidden in the garland of roses
which circled the table. She felt quite sorry for him, as
132
THE CEDARCROFT SET
she had felt last summer, and now, better attuned to de-
traction than to praise, her mind and instinct both pro-
claimed him, in spite of herself a gentleman. Colemaii
Van Duyn had lied to her. She was conscious of Coley
surveying her from his seat across the table with a jaun-
diced eye, and this surveillance, while it made her uncom-
fortable, served to feed the flame of her ire. Coley Van
Duyn had lied to her, and the lot of liars was oblivion.
A pause in the conversation when Nina Jaffray's voice
broke in on Mr. Gallatin's right.
"It isn't true, is it, Phil? "
He questioned.
" What they're saying about you," she went on.
He laughed uneasily. " Yes, of course, if it's some-
thing dreadful enough."
" Oh, it isn't dreadful, Phil, only so enchantingly sin-
ful that it doesn't sound like you in the least."
" No, Nina. It isn't true. Enchanting sin and I are
strangers. Miss Loring and I have just been talking
about original sin in saddle-horses. I contend "
" Phil, I won't be diverted in this way. I believe it's
true."
" Then what's the use of questioning me? "
" I'm foolish enough to want you to deny it."
" Even if it is an enchanting sin? You might at least
let me flatter myself that much."
Miss Jaffray's long eyes closed the fraction of an
inch, as she surveyed him aslant through her lashes, then
her lips broke into a smile which showed her small and
perfectly even teeth.
" You shan't evade me any longer. I'm insanely
jealous, Phil. Who was the girl you got lost with in the
woods ? "
Gallatin passed a miserable moment. He had sensed
133
THE SILENT BATTLE
the question and had tried to prevent it, cold with dismay
that Miss Loring should be in earshot. He flushed pain-
fully and for his life's sake could make no reply.
" It's true you're blushing. I could forgive you for
the sin, but for blushing for it never ! "
Gallatin had hoped that Miss Loring might have
turned to her other neighbor, but he had not dared to
look. Now he felt rather than saw that she was a listener
to the dialogue, and he heard her voice cool, clear, and
insistent, just at his ear:
" How very interesting, Nina ! Mr. Gallatin's sins are
finding him out? "
" No, / am," said the girl. " I've known Phil Gallatin
since we were children, and he has always been the most
unsusceptible of persons. He has never had any time
for girls. And now ! Now by his guilty aspect he tacitlj
acknowledges a love affair in the Canadian wilderness
with a "
" Oh, do stop, Nina," he said in suppressed tones.
" Miss Loring can hardly be interested in
" But I am," put in Miss Loring coolly. " Do tell
me something more, Nina. Was she young and pretty? "
" Ask this guilty wretch "
" Don't you know who she was ? What was her name ? "
" That's just what I want to find out. And nobody
seems to know, except Phil."
" Do tell us, Mr. Gallatin."
" She had no name," said Mr. Gallatin very quietly.
" There was no girl in the woods."
" A woman, then? " queried Miss Jaffray.
" Neither girl nor woman only a Dryad. The
woods are full of them. My Indian guide insisted
that "
" Oh, no, you sha'n't get out of it so easily, Phil, and
134.
O
Q
THE CEDAECEOFT SET
I insist upon your sticking to facts. A Dryad, indeed,
with the latest thing in fishing rods and creels ! "
Miss Jaffray had not for a moment taken her gaze
from Gallatin's face, but now she changed her tone to one
of impudent raillery. " You know, Phil, you've always
held women in such high regard that I've always thought
you positively tiresome. And now, just when I find you
developing the most unusual and interesting qualities, you
deny their very existence! I was just getting ready to
fall madly in love with you. How disappointing you are !
Isn't he, Jane?"
" Dreadfully so," said Miss Loring. " Tell it all, Mr.
Gallatin, by all means, since we already know the half.
I'm sure the reality can't be nearly as dreadful as we
already think it is."
Her effrontery astounded him, but he met her fairly.
" There's nothing to tell. If an enchantingly sinful
man met an enchantingly helpless Dryad what would
be likely to happen? Can you tell us, Miss Loring? "
Jane's weapons went flying for a moment, but she
recovered them adroitly.
" The situation has possibilities of which you are in.
every way worthy, I don't doubt, Mr. Gallatin. The
name of your Dryad will, of course, be revealed in time.
I'm sure if Miss Jaffray pleads with you long enough
you'll gladly tell her."
Nina Jaffray laughed.
" Come, Phil, there's a dear. Do tell a fellow. I've
really got to know, if only for the fun of scratching her
eyes out. I'm sure I ought to oughtn't I, Jane? "
But Miss Loring had already turned and was deep
in conversation with Mr. Worthington, who for twenty
minutes at least, had been trying to attract her attention.
135
XII
NELLIE PENNINGTON CUTS IN
IT was the custom at Richard Pennington's dinners
for the men to follow the ladies at once to the library
or drawing-room if they cared to, for Nellie Pen-
nington liked smoking and made no bones about it. Peo-
ple who dined with her were expected to do exactly as
they pleased, and this included the use of tobacco in all
parts of the house. She was not running a kindergarten,
she insisted, and the mothers of timorous buds were amply
warned that they must look to the habits of their tender
offspring. And so after the ices were served, when the
women departed, some of their dinner partners followed
them into the other rooms, finding more pleasure in the
cigarette a deux than in the stable talk at the dismantled
dining-table.
Phil Gallatin rose and followed the ladies to the door
and then returned, sank into a vacant chair and began
smoking, thinking deeply of the new difficulty into which
Nina Jaffray had plunged him. A small group of men
remained, Larry Kane, William Worthington, Ogden
Spencer, and Egerton Savage, who gathered at the end
of the table around their host.
" Selected your 1913 model yet, Bibby? " Pennington
asked with a laugh. "What is she to be this time? In-
side control, of course, maximum flexibility, minimum
friction "
" Oh, forget it, Dick," said Worthington, sulkily.
136
NELLIE PENNINGTON CUTS IN
"No offense, you know. Down on your luck? Cheer
up, old chap, you'll be in love again presently. There are
as many good fish in the sea "
" I'm not fishing," put in Bibby with some dignity.
" By George ! " whispered Larry Kane, in awed tones,
" I believe he's got it again. Oh, Bibby, when you marry,
Venus will go into sackcloth and ashes ! "
" So will Bibby," said Spencer. " Marriage isn't his
line at all. You know better than that, don't you, Bibby.
No demnition bow-wows on your Venusberg what?
You've got the secret. Love often and you'll love longer.
Aren't I right, Bibby? "
" Oh, let Bibby alone," sighed Savage. " He's got the
secret. I take my hat off to him. Every year he bathes
in the Fountain of Youth, and like the chap in the book
what's his name? gazes at his rejuvenated reflection in
the limpid pool of virgin eyes. Look at him ! Forty-five,
if he's a day, and looks like a stage juvenile."
Gallatin listened to the chatter with dull ears, smiling
perfunctorily, not because he enjoyed this particular kind
of humor, but because he did not choose to let his silence
become conspicuous. And when the sounds from a piano
were heard and the men rose to join the ladies, he had
made a resolve to see Jane Loring alone before the even-
ing was gone.
In the drawing-room Betty Tremaine was playing airs
from the latest Broadway musical success, which Durwell
De Lancy was singing with a throaty baritone. Jane
Loring sat on a sofa next to her hostess, both of them
laughing at young Perrine, who began showing the com-
pany a new version of the turkey-trot.
" Do a ' Dance Apache,' Freddy," cried Nina Jaffray,
springing to her feet. " You know," and before he knew
what she was about, he was seized by the arms, and while
137
THE SILENT BATTLE
Miss Tremaine caught the spirit of the thing in a gay
cadence of the Boulevards, the two of them flew like mad
things around the room, to the imminent hazard of furni-
ture and its occupants. There was something barbaric
in their wild rush as they whirled apart and came together
again and the dance ended only when Freddy Perrine
catapulted into a corner, breathless and exhausted. Miss
Jaffray remained upright, her slender breast heaving, her
eyes dark with excitement, glancing from one to another
with the bold challenge of a Bacchante fresh from the
groves of Naxos. There was uproarious applause and a
demand for repetition, but as no one volunteered to take
the place of the exhausted Perrine, the music ceased and
Miss Jaffray, after rearranging her disordered hair, threw
herself into a vacant chair.
" You're wonderful, Nina ! " said Nellie Pennington,
languidly, " but how can you do it ? It's more like wrest-
ling than dancing? "
" I like wrestling," said Miss Jaffray, unperturbedly.
Auction tables were formed in the library and the
company divided itself into parties of three or four, each
with its own interests. Gallatin soon learned that it
might prove difficult to carry his resolution into effect, for
Miss Loring was the center of a group which seemed to
defy disruption, and Coleman Van Duyn immediately pre-
empted the nearest chair, from which nothing less than
dynamite would have availed to dislodge him. Gallatin
had heard that Van Duyn had been with the Lorings in
Canada, and had wondered vaguely whether this fact
could have anything to do with that gentleman's sudden
change of manner toward himself. The two men had
gone to the same school, and the same university; and
while they had never been by temper or inclination in the
slightest degree suited to each other, circumstances threw
138
NELLIE PENNINGTON CUTS IN
them often together and as fellow club-mates they had
owed and paid each other a tolerable civility. But this
winter Van Duyn's nods had been stiff and his manner
taciturn. Personally, Phil Gallatin did not care whether
Coleman Van Duyn was civil or not, and only thought
of the matter in its possible reference to Jane Loring.
Gallatin leaned over the back of the sofa in conversation
with Nellie Pennington, listening with one ear to Coley's
rather heavy attempts at amiability.
After a while his hostess moved to a couch in the
corner and motioned for him to take the place beside her.
" You know, Phil," she began, reproving him in her
softest tones, " I've been thinking about you a lot lately.
Aren't you flattered? You ought to be. I've made up
my mind to speak to you with all the seriousness of my
advanced years."
"'Yes, Mother, dear," laughed Phil. " What is it now?
Have I been breaking window-panes or pulling the cat's
tail? "
" Neither and both," she returned calmly. " But it's
your sins of omission that bother me most. You're in-
corrigibly lazy ! "
" Thanks," he said, settling himself comfortably. " I
know it."
" And aren't you ashamed of yourself? "
" Awfully."
" I'm told that you're never in your office, that you've
let your practice go to smash, that your partners are on
the point of casting you into the outer darkness."
" Oh, that's true," he said wearily. " I've practically
withdrawn from the firm, Nellie. I didn't bring any busi-
ness in. It's even possible that I kept some of it out. I'm
a moral and physical incubus. In fact, John Kenyon has
almost told me so."
139
THE SILENT BATTLE
" Well, what are you going to do about it? "
"Do?
A Loaf of Bread beneath the Bough,
A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse and thou.
If you'll come with me, Nellie."
There was no response of humor in Nellie Pennington's
expression.
" No," she said quietly. " Not I. I want you to be
serious, Phil." She paused a moment, looking down, and
when her eyes sought his again he saw in them the spark
of a very genuine interest. " I don't know whether you
know it or not, Phil, but I'm really very fond of you.
And if I didn't understand you as well as I do, of course,
I wouldn't dare to be so frank."
Philip Gallatin inclined his head slightly.
" Go on, please," he said.
She hesitated a moment and then clutched his arm
with her strong fingers.
" I want you to wake up, Phil," she said with sudden
insistence. " I want you to wake up, to open your eyes
wide wide, do you hear, to stretch your intellectual fibers
and learn something of your own strength. You're asleep,
Boy! You've been asleep for years! I want you to
wake up and prove the stuff that's in you. You're the
last of your line, Phil, the very last; but whatever the
faults your fathers left you, you've got their genius,
too."
Gallatin was slowly shaking his head.
" Not that only "
" I know it," she said proudly. " You can't hide from
everybody, Phil. I still remember those cases you won
when you were just out of law-school that political one
140
NELLIE PENNINGTON CUTS IN
and the other of the drunkard indicted on circumstantial
evidence "
" I was interested in that," he muttered.
" You'll be interested again. You must be. Do you
hear? You've come to the parting of the ways, Phil,
and you've got to make a choice. You're drifting with
the tide, and I don't like it, waiting for Time to provide
your Destiny when you've got the making of it in your
own hands. You've got to put to sea, hoist what sail
you've got and brave the elements."
" I'm a derelict, Nellie," he said painfully.
" Shame ! Phil," she whispered. " A derelict is a ship
without a soul. You a derelict! Then society is made
up of derelicts, discards from the game of opportunity.
Some of us are rich. We think we can afford to be idle.
Ambition doesn't matter to such men as Dick, or Larry
Kane, or Egerton Savage. Their lines were drawn in easy
places, their lives were ready-made from the hour that
they were born. But you! There's no excuse for you.
You are not rich. As the world considers such things,
you're poor and so you're born for better things ! You've
got the Gallatin intellect, the Gallatin solidity, the Galla*-
tin cleverness "
" And the Gallatin insufficiency," he finished for her.
" A fig for your vices," she said contemptuously. " It's
the little men of this world that never have any vices. No
big man ever was without them. Whatever dims the
luster of the spirit, the white fire of intellect burns stead-
ily on, unless " she paused and glanced at him, quickly,
lowering her voice " unless the luster of the spirit is
dimmed too long, Phil."
He clasped his long fingers around one of his knees
and looked thoughtfully at the rug.
" I understand," he said quietly.
141
THE SILENT BATTLE
" You don't mind my speaking to you so, do you,
Phil, dear? "
He closed his eyes, and then opening them as though
with an effort, looked at her squarely.
"No, Nellie."
Her firm hand pressed his strongly. " Let me help
you, Phil. There are not many fellows I'd go out of my
way for, not many of them are worth it. Phil, you've
got to take hold at once right away. Make a fresh
start."
" I did take hold for for a good while and then
and then I slipped a cog "
" Why? You mean it was too hard for you? "
" No, not at all. It had got so that I wasn't both-
ered not much that is I let go purposely." He
stopped suddenly. "I can't tell you why. I guess I'm a
fool that's all."
She examined his face with a new interest. There was
something here she could not understand. She had known
Phil Gallatin since his boyhood and had always believed
in him. She had watched his development with the eyes
of an elder sister, and had never given up the hope that
he might carry on the traditions of his blood in all things
save the one to be dreaded. She had never talked with
him before. Indeed, she would not have done so to-night
had it not been that a strong friendly impulse had urged
her. She made it a practice never to interfere in the
lives of others, if interference meant the cost of needless
pain ; but as she had said to him, Phil Gallatin was worth
helping. She was thankful, too, that he had taken her
advice kindly.
What was this he was saying about letting go pur-
posely. What but she had reached the ends of friend-
liness and the beginnings of curiosity.
NELLIE PENNINGTON CUTS IN
" No, you're not a fool, Phil. You sha'n't call your-
self names." And then, " You say you weren't bothered
much? "
" No. Things had got a good deal easier for me. I
was beginning to feel hopeful for the future. It had cost
me something, but I had got my grip. I had started in
at the office again, and Kenyon had given me some im-
portant work to do. Good old Uncle John ! He seemed
to know that I was trying."
He stopped a moment and then went on rapidly. " He
turned me loose on a big corporation case the firm was
preparing for trial. I threw myself into the thing, body
and soul. I worked like a dog night and day, and every
hour that I worked my grip on myself grew stronger. I
was awake then, Nellie, full of enthusiasm, my old love of
my profession glowing at a white heat that absorbed and
swallowed all other fires. It seemed that I found out
some things the other fellows had overlooked, and a few
days before the big case was to be called, Kenyon asked
me if I didn't want to take charge. I don't believe he
knew how good that made me feel. I seemed to have come
into my own again. I knew I could win and I told him so.
So he and Hood dropped out and turned the whole thing
over to me. I had it all at my fingers' ends. You know,
I once learned a little law, Nellie, and I was figuring on a
great victory."
As Gallatin spoke, his long frame slowly straightened,
his head drew well back on his shoulders and a new fire
glowed in his eyes.
" It was great ! " he went on. "I don't believe any
man alive ever felt more sure of himself than I did when
I wound up tliat case and shut up my desk for the day.
If I won, and win I should, it would give Kenyon, Hood
and Gallatin a lot of prestige. Things looked pretty
143
THE SILENT BATTLE
bright that night. I began to see the possibilities of a
career, Nellie, a real career that even a Gallatin might be
proud of."
Pie came to a sudden pause, his figure crumpled, and
the glow in his eyes faded as though a film had fallen
across them.
" And then? " asked Nellie Pennington.
" And then," he muttered haltingly, " something hap-
pened to me I had a a disappointment and things
went all wrong inside of me I didn't care what hap-
pened. I went to the bad, Nellie, clean clean to the
bad "
" Yes," said Mrs. Pennington softly, " I heard.
That's why I spoke to you to-night. You haven't
been "
" No, thank God, I'm keeping straight now, but it did
hurt to have done so well and then to have failed so
utterly. You see the case I was speaking of Kenyon,
Hood and Gallatin had turned the whole business over to
me, and I wasn't there to plead. They couldn't find me.
There was a postponement, of course, but my opportunity
had passed and it won't come again."
He stopped, glanced at her face and then turned
away. " I don't know why I've told you these things," he
finished soberly, " for sympathy is hardly the kind of
thing a man in my position can stand for."
Nellie Pennington remained silent. Her interest was
deep and her wonder uncontrollable. Therefore, being a
woman, she did not question. She only waited. Her
woman's eyes to-night had been wide open, and she had
already made a rapid diagnosis of which her curiosity
compelled a confirmation.
They were alone at their end of the room. Miss
Loring and Mr. Van Duyn had gone in to the bridge tables
144
NELLIE PENNINGTON CUTS IN
and Egerton Savage was conversing in a low tone with
Betty Tremaine, whose fingers straying over the piano,
were running softly through an aria from " La Boheme."
" You know, Nellie," he went on presently, " I'm not
in the habit of talking about my own affairs, even with
my friends, but I believe it's done me a lot of good to
talk to you. You'll forgive me, won't you? "
She nodded and then went on quickly. " The trouble
with you is that you don't talk enough about yourself,
Phil. You're a seething mass of introspection. It isn't
healthy. Friends are only conversational chopping-
blocks after all. Why don't you use them? Me for in-
stance. I'm safe, sane, and I confess a trifle curious."
She paused a moment, and then said keenly:
" It's a girl, of course."
He raised his head quickly, and then lowered it as
quickly again.
" No, there isn't any girl."
" Oh, yes, there is. I've known it for quite two hours."
" How? " he asked in alarm.
She waved her fan with a graceful gesture. " Second
sight, a sixth sense, an appreciation for the fourth di-
mension in short the instinct of a woman."
"You mean that you guessed? "
" No, that I perceived."
" It takes a woman to perceive something which doesn't
exist," he said easily.
She turned and examined him with level brows. " Then
why did you admit it? "
" I didn't."
She leaned back among her pillows and laughed at him
mockingly. "Oh, Phil! Must I be brutal? "
" What do you mean ? "
" That the girl is here to-night."
145
" That is not true," he stammered. " She is not
here."
Mrs. Pennlngton did not spare him.
" A moment ago you denied that there was a girl.
Now you're willing to admit that she's only absent. Please
don't doubt the accuracy of my feminine deductions, Phil.
Nothing provokes me more. You may drive me to the
extreme of mentioning her name."
Gallatin stopped fencing. It was an art he was obliged
reluctantly to confess, in which he was far from a match
for this tantalizing adversary. So he relapsed into silence,
aware that the longer the conversation continued the more
vulnerable he became.
But she reassured him in a moment.
"Oh, why won't you trust me?" she whispered, her
eyes dark with interest. " I do want to help you if you'll
let me. It was only a guess, Phil, a guess founded on the
most intangible evidence, but I couldn't help seeing (you
know a heaven-born hostess is Midas-eared and Argus-
eyed) what passed between you and Jane Loring."
" Nothing that I'm aware of passed between us," he
said quietly. " She was very civil."
" As civil as a cucumber no more no less. How
could I know that she didn't want to go in to dinner with
you?"
"You heard?"
" Yes, from the back of my head. Besides, Phil, I've
always told you that your eyes were too expressive." His
look of dismay was so genuine that she stopped and laid
her hand along his arm. " I was watching you, Phil.
That's why I know. I shouldn't have noticed, if I hadn't
been."
" Yes," he slowly admitted at last. " Miss Loring and
I had met before."
NELLIE PENNINGTON CUTS IN
At that he stopped and would say no more. Instinct
warned her that curiosity had drawn her to the verge of
intrusiveness, and so she, too, remained silent while
through her head a hundred thoughts were racing benev-
olent, romantic, speculative, concerning these two young
people whom she liked and one of whom was unhappy.
They had met before, on terms of intimacy, but where?
Intimacies worth quarreling over were scarcely to be
made in the brief season during which Jane Loring had
been in New York, for unlike Mr. Worthington, Phil Gal-
latin was no cultivator of social squabs. Obviously they
had met elsewhere. Last summer? Phil Gallatin was fish-
ing in Canada Canada! So was Jane! Mrs. Penning-
ton straightened and examined her companion curiously.
She had heard the story of Phil Gallatin's wood-nymph
and was now thoroughly awake to the reasons for his re-
ticence, so she sank back among her cushions, her eyes
flowncast, a smile wreathing her lips, the smile of the col-
lector of objects of art and virtue who has stumbled upon
a hidden rarity. It was a smile, too, of self-appreciation
and approval, for her premises had been negligible and her
conclusion only arrived at after a process of induction
which surprised her by the completeness of its success.
She was already wondering how her information could
best serve her purposes as mediator when Gallatin spoke
again.
" We had met before, Nellie, under unusual and and
er trying conditions. There was a misunderstand-
ing something happened which you need not know a
damage to to her pride which I would give my right hand
to repair."
" Perhaps, if you could see her alone "
" Yes, I was hoping for that but it hardly seems
possible here."
147
THE SILENT BATTLE
Mrs. Pennington was leaning forward now, slightly
away from him, thinking deeply, thoroughly alive to her
responsibilities her responsibilities to Jane Loring as
well as to the man beside her. It was the judgment of
the world that Phil was a failure her own judgment,
too, in spite of her affection for him ; and yet in her breast
there still lived a belief that he still had a chance for
regeneration. She had seen the spark of it in his eyes,
heard the echo of it in tones of his voice when he had
spoken of his last failures. She hesitated long before re-
plying, her eyes looking into space, like a seer of visions,
as though she were trying to read the riddle of the
future. And when she spoke it was with tones of reso-
lution.
" I think it might be managed. Will you leave it
to me? "
She gave him her hand in a warm clasp. "I believe in
you, Phil, and I understand," she finished softly.
Gallatin followed her to the door of the library, un-
quiet of mind and sober of demeanor. He had long known
Nellie Pennington to be a wonderful woman and the tan-
gible evidences of her cleverness still lingered as the result
of his interview. There seemed to be nothing a woman
of her equipment could not accomplish, nothing she could
not learn if she made up her mind to it. In twenty minutes
of talk she had succeeded in extracting from Gallatin,
without unseemly effort, his most carefully treasured
secret, and indeed he half suspected that her intuition
had already supplied the missing links in the chain of
gossip that was going the rounds about him. But he
did not question her loyalty or her tact and, happy to
trust his fortunes entirely into her hands, he approached
the bridge-tables aware that the task which his hostess
148
NELLIE PENNINGTON CUTS IN
had assumed so lightly was one that would tax her in-
genuity to the utmost.
Her last whispered admonition as she left him in the
hall had been " Wait, and don't play bridge ! " and so he
followed her injunction implicitly, wondering how the
miracle was to be accomplished. Miss Loring did not
raise her head at his approach, and even when the others
at the table nodded greetings she bent her head upon her
cards and made her bids, carelessly oblivious of his pres-
ence.
Miss Jaffray hardly improved his situation when she
flashed a mocking glance up at him and laughed.
" Satyr! " she said. " I could never have believed it of
you, Phil. You were such a nice little boy, too, though
you would pull my pig-tail ! "
" Don't mind Nina, Phil," said Worthington gayly.
'* Satyrical remarks are her long suit, especially when
she's losing."
Nina regarded him reproachfully. " There was a
time, Bibby, when you wouldn't have spoken so unkindly
of me. Is this the way you repay your debt of grati-
tude? "
" Gratitude ! "
" Yes, I might have married you, you know."
" Oh, Nina ! I'd forgotten."
" Think of the peril you escaped and be thankful ! "
" I am," he said devoutly.
" You ought to be." And then to Miss Loring,
" Bibby hasn't proposed to you yet, has he, Jane," she
asked.
" I don't think so," said Jane laughing. " Have you,
Mr. Worthington? "
He flushed painfully and gnawed at his small mus-
tache. Nina had scored heavily.
149
THE SILENT BATTLE
" I hope he does," Jane went on with a sense of
throwing a buoy to a drowning man, " because I'm sure
I'd accept him."
Worthington smiled gratefully and adored her in fer-
vent silence.
" Men have stopped asking me to marry them lately,"
sighed Nina. " It annoys me dreadfully." She spoke
of this misfortune with the same careless tone one would
use with reference to a distasteful pattern in wall-paper.
" But think of the hearts you've broken," said Gal-
latin.
" Or of the hearts I wanted to break but couldn't,"
she replied. " Yours, for instance, Phil."
"You couldn't have tried very hard," he laughed.
" I didn't know you were a satyr then," she said,
pushing her chair back from the table. " Your rubber,
I think, Bibby. I'm sure we'd better stop, Dick, or you'll
never ask me here again."
150
XIII
MRS. PENNINGTON'S BROUGHAM
THERE was a general movement of dispersal, and
Philip Gallatin, who had now given up all hope
of the opportunity Nellie Pennington had prom-
ised him, followed the party into the hall, his eyes fol-
lowing Jane, who had found her hostess and was making
her adieux. He watched her slender figure as she made
her way up the stairs, and turned to Mrs. Pennington
reproachfully.
" Don't speak, Phil," his hostess whispered. " It's
all arranged. Go at once and get your things."
Gallatin obeyed quickly and when he came down he
heard Mrs. Pennington saying, " So sorry, Jane. Your
machine came, but the butler sent it home again. There
was some mistake in the orders, it seems. But I've
ordered my brougham, and it's waiting at the door for
you. You don't mind, do you? ,I've asked Mr. Gallatin
to see that you get home safely."
" Of course, it's very kind of you, dear." She hesi-
tated. " But it seems too bad to trouble Mr. Gallatin."
" I'm sure I'm delighted," he said, and it was evi-
dent that he meant it.
Jane Loring glanced around her quickly, helplessly
it seemed to Gallatin, but the sight of Coleman Van Duyn,
waiting hat in hand, helped her to a decision.
" It's so kind of you, Mr. Gallatin," she said grate-
fully, and then, in a whisper as she kissed her hostess,
151
THE SILENT BATTLE
" Nellie, you're simply odious ! " and made her way out
of the door.
Gallatin followed quickly, but Miss Loring reached
the curb before him and giving her number to the coach-
man, got in without the proffered hand of her escort.
Angry though she was, Jane Loring kept her com-
posure admirably. All the world, it seemed, was con-
spiring to throw her with this man whom she now knew
she must detest. If fate, blind and unthinking, had made
him her dinner partner, only design, malicious and un-
civil, could be blamed for his presence now. She sat in
her corner, her figure tense, her head averted, her wraps
carefully drawn about her, a dark and forbidding wraith
of outraged dignity, waiting only for him to speak that
she might crush him.
Gallatin sat immovable for a moment, conscious of
all the feminine forces arrayed against him.
" I make no apologies," he began with an assurance
which surprised her. " I wanted to see you alone and
no other chance offered. I suppose I might say I'm
sorry, but that wouldn't be true. I'm not sorry and
I don't want any misunderstandings. I asked Mrs.
Pennington "
" Oh ! " she broke in wrathfully. " Many people, it
seems, enjoy your confidences, Mr. Gallatin."
" No," he went on, steadily. " I'm not given to con-
fidences, Miss Loring. Mrs. Pennington is one of my
oldest and best friends. I told her it was necessary for
me to see you alone for a moment and she took pity on
me."
" Mrs. Pennington has taken an unpardonable lib-
erty and I shall tell her so," said Jane decisively.
" I hope you won't do that."
" Have matters reached such a point in New York
152
MRS. PENNINGTON'S BROUGHAM
that a girl can't drive out alone without being open to
the importunity of any stranger? "
" I am not a stranger," he put in firmly, and his
voice dominated hers. " We met within the Gates of
Chance, Miss Loring, on equal terms. I have the right
of any man to plead "
" You've already pleaded."
"You were prejudiced. I've appealed to a higher
tribunal your sense of justice."
" I know no law but my own instinct."
" You are not true to your own instincts then, or they
are not true to you."
It was sophistry, of course, but she was a trifle
startled at the accuracy of his deduction, for she realized
that it was her judgment only that rejected him and
that her instincts advised her of the pleasure she took
in his company. Her instincts then being unreliable, she
followed her judgment blindly, uncomfortably conscious
that she did it against her will, and angry with herself
that it was so.
" I only know, Mr. Gallatin," she said coldly, " that
both judgment and instinct warn me against you. What-
ever there is left in you of honor of decency, must
surely respond to my distaste for this intrusion."
" If I admit that I'm neither honorable nor decent,
will you give me the credit for speaking the truth? " he
asked slowly.
"With reference to what?" scornfully.
" To this story they're telling."
" You brought it here, of course."
" Will you believe me if I say that I didn't ? "
" Why should I believe you ? "
" Simply because I ask you to."
153
THE SILENT BATTLE
She looked out of the carriage window away from
him.
" I believed in you once, Mr. Gallatin."
He bowed his head.
" Even that is something," he said. " You wouldn't
have believed in me then if instinct had forbidden it. I
am the same person you once believed in."
" My judgment was at fault. I dislike you intensely."
" I won't believe it."
" You must. You did me an injury that nothing can
repair."
" An injury to your dignity, to your womanhood and
sensibility "
" Hardly," she said scornfully, " or even to my pride.
It was only my body you hurt, Mr. Gallatin your
kisses they soiled me "
" My God, Jane ! Don't ! Haven't you punished
me enough? I was mad, I tell you. There was a devil
in me, that owned me body and soul, that stole my rea-
son, killed what was good, and made a monster of the love
I had cherished an insensate enemy that perverted and
brutalized every decent instinct, a Thing unfamiliar to
you which frightened and drove you away in fear and
loathing. It was not me you feared, Jane, for you
trusted me. It was the Thing you feared, as I fear it,
the Enemy that had pursued me into the woods where I
had fled from it."
Jane Loring sat in her corner apparently uncon-
cerned, but her heart was throbbing and the hands be-
neath the wide sleeves of her opera kimono were nervously
clutched. The sound of his voice, its deep sonorous tones
when aroused were familiar to her. As he paused she
stole a glance at him, for as he spoke of his Enemy he
had turned away from her, his eyes peering out into the
154
MRS. PENNINGTON'S BROUGHAM
dimly lighted street, as if the mention of his weakness
shamed him.
" I'm not asking you for your pity," he went on more
steadily, " I only want your pardon. I don't think it's
too much to ask. It wasn't the real Phil Gallatin who
brought that shame on you."
" The real Phil Gallatin ! Which is the real Phil Gal-
latin? " she asked cruelly.
" What you make him to-night," he replied quickly.
" I've done what I can without you lived like an out-
cast on the memories of happiness, but I can't subsist on
that. Memory is poor food for a starving man."
" I can't see how / can be held accountable. / did
not make you, Mr. Gallatin."
" But you can mar me. I've come," he remembered
the words of Mrs. Pennington, " I've come to the part-
ing of the ways. Up there I gained my self-respect
and lost it. The best of me you saw and the worst of
me. You knew me only for five days and yet no one in
the world can know me exactly as you do."
" The pity of it "
" The best of me and the worst of me, the man in me
and the beast in me, my sanity and my madness. All
these you saw. The record is at least complete."
" I hope so."
" I could not lie to you nor cheat you with false
sentiment. I played the game fairly until until then."
"Yes until then."
" You cared for me, there in the woods. I earned
your friendship. And I hoped that the time had come
when I could prove to you, at least, that I was not to be
found wanting."
" And yet you failed," she said.
" Yes, I failed. Oh, I don't try to make my sin anjr
155
THE SILENT BATTLE
the less. I only want you to remember the circumstances
to acquit me of any intention to do you harm. I am
no despoiler of women, even my enemies will tell you
so. That, thank God, was not a part of my heritage. I
have always looked on women of your sort with a kind
of wonder. I have never understood them nor they me.
I thought of them as I thought of pictures or of children,
things set apart from the grubby struggle for material
and moral existence. I liked to be with them because
their ways fell in pleasant places and because, in re-
specting them, I could better learn to respect myself.
God knows, I respected you honored you! Don't say
you don't believe that ! "
" I I think you did " she stammered.
" I tried to show you how much. You knew what
Was in my heart. I would have died for you or lived
for you, if you could have wished it so."
He paused a moment, his brows tangled in thought.
" I learned many things up there things that neither
men nor women nor books had taught me, something of
the directness and persistence of the forces of nature, the
binding contract of a man's body with his soul, the
glorification of labor and the meaning of responsibility.
I was happy there happy as I had never been before.
I wanted the days to be longer so that I could work
harder for you, and my pride in your comfort was the
greatest pride I have ever known. You were my fetich
the symbol of Intention. You made me believe in my-
self, and defied the Enemy that was plucking at my elbow.
I could have lived there always and I prayed in secret
that we might never be found. I wanted you to believe
in me as I was already beginning to believe in myself.
Whatever I had been here in the world up there at
least I was a success. I wanted to prove it thoroughly
156
MRS. PENNINGTON'S BROUGHAM
to kill, that you might eat and be warm to hew and
build, that you might be comfortable. I wanted a shrine
for you, that I might put you there and keep you
always. I worshiped you, Jane, God help me, as I wor-
ship you now."
His voice trembled and broke as he paused.
" I I must not listen to you, Mr. Gallatin," she said
hurriedly, for her heart was beating wildly.
" I worship you, Jane," he repeated, " and I ask
for nothing but your pardon."
" I I forgive you," she gasped.
" I'm glad of that. I'll try to deserve your indul-
gence," he said slowly. He stopped again, and it was a
long time before he went on. The brougham was moving
rapidly up the Avenue and the turmoil of night sounds
was fading into silence. Forty-second Street was already
behind them, and the fashionable restaurants were gay
with lights. He seemed to realize then that Jane would
soon reach her destination, and he went on quickly, as
though there were still much that he must say in the
little time left to him to say it in. " I suppose it would
be too much if I asked you to let me see you once in
a while," he said quickly, as though he feared her refusal.
" I I've no doubt that we'll meet, Mr. Gallatin."
" I don't mean that," he persisted. "I don't think
I'll be I don't think I'll go around much this winter.
I want to talk to you, if you'll let me. I I can't give
you up I need you. I need your belief in me, the incen-
tive of your friendship, your spell to exorcise the the
Thing that came between us."
" I am trying to forget that," she murmured. " It
would be easier if if you hadn't said what you did."
" What did I say ? I don't know," he said passion-
ately.
157
THE SILENT BATTLE
" That you you loved me. It was the brute in you
that spoke not the man, the beast that kissed Oh ! "
She brushed the back of her hand across her eyes. " It
was not you ! The memory of it will never go."
He hung his head in shame.
" No, no, don't ! " he muttered. " You're crucifying
me!"
" If you had not said that "
" It was monstrous. It was madness, but it was
sweet."
" Love is not brutal does not shame nor frighten,"
she said slowly. " You had been so so clean so
calm "
" It was Arcadia, Jane," he whispered, " your Ar-
cadia and mine. It was the love in me that spoke, what-
ever I said the love of a man, or of a beast, if you like.
But it spoke truly. There were no conventions there but
those of the forest, no laws but those of the heart. I had
known you less than a week, and I had known you always.
And you up there you loved me. Yes, it's true. Do
you think I couldn't read in your eyes? "
" No, no," she protested. " It isn't true. I I didn't
love you I don't "
He had captured one of her hands and was leaning
toward her, his voice close at her ear, vibrant with emo-
tion.
" You loved me up there, Jane. The forest knew.
The stream sang of it. It was in Kee-way-din and the
rain. It was part of the primeval, when we lived a thou-
sand years ago. Don't you remember? I read it in your
eyes that night when I came in with the deer. You ran
out to meet me, like the cave-woman to greet her man.
I was no longer the fugitive who had built your hut, or
158
MRS. PENNINGTON'S BROUGHAM
made your fires. You had learned that I was necessary to
you, in other ways, not to your body but to your spirit."
" No. It's not true."
" That night you fed me watched by me. I saw your
eyes in my dreams, the gentleness in them, their com-
passion, their perfect womanliness. Such wonderful
dreams ! And when I awoke you were still there. I
wanted to tell you then that I knew but I couldn't. It
would have made things difficult for you. Then I got
sick "
"Don't, Mr. Gallatin!"
He had taken her in his arms and held her face so
that her lips lay just beneath his own.
" Tell me the truth. You loved me then. You love
me now? Isn't it so? "
Her lips were silent, and one small tear trembled on
her cheeks. But he kissed it away.
" Look up at me, Jane. Answer. Whatever I am,
whatever I hope to be, you and I are one indivisible. It
has been so since the beginning. There is no brute in me
now, dear. See. I am all tenderness and compassion.
One fire burns out another. I'll clean your lips with new
kisses gentle ones purge off the baser fire. I love you,
Jane. And you ? "
" Yes yes," she whispered faintly. " I do love you.
I I can't help it."
" Do you want to help it ? "
" No. I don't want to help it."
" Kiss me, Jane."
She raised her moist lips to his and he took them.
Past and Future whirled about their ears, dinning the
alarm, but they could not hear it, for the voice of the
present, the wonderful present was singing in their hearts.
159
THE SILENT BATTLE
The brougham rolled noiselessly on, and they did not
know or care. Fifth Avenue was an Elysian Field, and
their journey could only end in Paradise.
" Say it again," he whispered.
She did.
" I can't see your eyes, Jane. I want to see them now.
They're like they were up there aren't they? They're
not cold, or scornful, or mocking, as they've been all
evening not cruel as they were in the Park? It's you,
isn't it? Really you? "
" Yes, what's left of me," she sighed. " It's so sweet,"
she whispered. " I've dreamed of it but I didn't think it
could ever be. I was afraid of you "
" Oh, Jane ! How cruel you were ! "
" I had to be. I had to hurt you."
"Why?"
" Because of my own pain. I wanted to make you
suffer as I suffered only more."
" I did. Much more. You're not afraid of me now? "
" No, no. I'm not afraid of you. I shouldn't be be
where I am, if I were."
He took pains to give her locality a new defmiteness.
" I'm not what you thought I was ? " he asked after
that.
" No yes that is I don't know :
" Jane ! "
" I mean I don't believe I ever thought you anything
but what you are."
" You blessed child. And what am I ? "
" A a person. A dark-haired person with a
face."
"Is that all?"
" No. And an unshaven chin, a soiled flannel shirt,
and a brown felt hat with two holes punched in it."
160
MRS. PENNINGTON'S BROUGHAM
" Have I always been that? "
" Yes always."
" You liked that that person better than you do
this one? "
" I'm not sure." She straightened suddenly in his
arms and drew away to look at him. " Why I've only
known you I only met you a few hours ago. It's dread-
ful of me Mr. Gallatin."
" Phil," he corrected.
" Phil, then. The suddenness of everything I'm not
quite sure of myself
" I'm not either. I'm afraid I'll wake up."
" You're not the person with the glowering eyes," she
went on, " and the the stubbly chin or the slouch hat
and smelly pipe "
" I'm too happy to glower. I couldn't if I wanted to.
But I've got the hat and the smelly pipe. I can make
the chin stubbly again if you'll only wait a few days."
" I don't think I I'd like it stubbly now."
He laughed. But she stopped him again.
" I I wish you'd tell me "
She paused and he questioned.
" Something bothers me dreadfully."
"What?"
" You didn't think when you came with me to-
night that I could be convinced that you could could
win so easily, did you ? "
" No, dear. I didn't I "
" Quickly or I shall die of shame."
" I had no hope none at all. I just wanted you to
know how things were with me. Thank God, you listened."
" How could I do anything else but listen in a
brougham I couldn't have jumped out into the street.
Besides, you might have jumped, too."
161
THE SILENT BATTLE
" I would have," he said grimly.
" It would have made a scene."
" I hadn't thought of that."
" And the coachman Mrs. Pennington would have
known. Oh, don't you see? Mrs. Pennington only intro-
duced us to-night
She drew away from him and looked out of the car-
riage window. They had reached a neighborhood which
was unfamiliar to her, where the houses were smaller and
the lights less frequent, and upon the left-hand side there
was no Park.
" There is some mistake," she said a little bewildered.
" We have come a long way."
He followed her look and laughed outright.
" We're above the Park," he said, opening the door.
And then to the coachman. " You got the wrong number."
" One Hundred and Twentieth, sir," came a voices
promptly.
" One Hundred and Twenty! Where are we now,
Dawson? "
" Hundred and Ten, sir."
Gallatin laughed, but Jane had sunk back in her
corner in confusion.
" I said Seventieth distinctly," she murmured. " I'm
sure I did."
" You'd better turn now," said Gallatin to the man.
"Where to, sir?"
"To the Battery "
" Mr. Gal Phil ! " cried Jane.
" I beg pardon, sir," said Dawson.
Gallatin concealed his delight with difficulty.
" We've come too far, Dawson," he said. " Miss
Loring lives in Seventieth Street."
" I'm sorry, sir," came a voice.
162
MRS. PENNINGTON'S BROUGHAM
Gallatin shut the door and the vehicle turned.
Jane sat very straight in her corner and her fingers
;were rearranging her disordered hair.
" Oh, Phil, I'm shamed. How could I have let him
go past "
" There are no numbers on the streets of Paradise."
" It must be frightfully late."
" or watches in the pockets of demigods "
" Will you be serious ! "
" Demigods are too happy to be serious."
" That poor horse "
" A wonderful horse, a horse among horses, but he
goes too fast. He'll be there in no time. Can't we take
a turn in the Park? "
He stretched his hand toward the door, but she seized
him by the arm.
" I forbid it. If Mrs. Pennington knew " she
stopped again in consternation. " Phil ! Do you think
[that Nellie Pennington "
" I don't know. She's a wonderful woman keeps
amazing horses extraordinary coachmen -"
" Could she have told the man to mistake me pur-
posely? "
" I think so," he said brazenly. " She's capable of
anything anything wonderful worn "
" Phil, I'll be angry with you."
" No, you can't."
He took her in his arms again and she discovered that
what he said was true. She didn't want to be angry.
Besides, what did it matter, about anything or anybody
else in the world.
" I don't know how this could have happened. I've
hated you, Phil," she confessed after a while. " Oh, how
I've hated you ! "
163
THE SILENT BATTLE
" No."
" Oh, yes. It's true. I hated you. I really did.
You were the living emblem of my disgrace. When you
got in here beside me to-night, I loathed you. I'm still
angry with myself. I can't understand how I could have
yielded so so completely."
" It all happened a thousand years ago."
" Yes, I know it. Up there I seemed to remember
that."
" So did I the same stream, the same rocks, the
forest primeval."
" And the voices "
" Yes. You couldn't change things. They were meant
to be from the beginning."
She drew closer into his arms and whispered.
" It frightens me a little, though."
"What?"
" That it has happened in spite of me. That I had no
power to resist."
" Do you want to resist? "
" No, not now not now."
" You make me immortal. There's no need to be
frightened for me or for you. The strength of the ages
is in me, Jane. I'll win out, dear," he whispered. " I'll
win out. For you for us both."
" I believe it," she sighed. " It's in you to win. I've
known that, too. You must put the the Enemy to rout,
Phil. I'll help you. It's my Enemy as well as yours now.
We'll face it together and it will fall. I know it will."
He laughed.
" God bless you for that. I'm not afraid of it. We've
conjured it away already. You've put me in armor, Jane.
We'll turn its weapons aside."
" Yes, I'm sure of it."
164
MRS. PENNINGTON'S BROUGHAM
She looked up at him and by the glow of a street
lamp he saw that she was afraid no longer, for in her
eyes was a light of love and faith unalterable.
She could not know, nor did he, that outside in the
darkness beside their vehicle, his weapons sheathed, baffled
and thwarted for the moment, but still undismayed, strode
the Enemy.
165
XIV
THE JUNIOR MEMBER
THE offices of Kenyon, Hood and Gallatin were in
the Mills Building, and consisted of six rooms, one
for each of the members of the firm, and three for
the clerks, stenographers and library. They were plainly
but comfortably furnished, and gave no token of ex-
traordinary prosperity or the lack of it. In no sense did
they resemble the magnificent suites which were main-
tained elsewhere in the building by more precocious firms
which had discovered the efficacy of the game of " bluff,"
and which used it in their business with successful con-
sistency. And yet there was an air of solidity here which
indicated a conservatism more to the liking of the class
of people who found use for the services of Kenyon, Hood
and Gallatin.
John Kenyon, the senior member, belonged to that
steadily decreasing class of lawyers who look upon their
profession as a calling with traditions. He belonged to
an older school of practitioners which still clung to the
ethics of a bygone generation. The business of many big
corporations went up in the elevator which passed before
the door of John Kenyon's private office to a floor above,
where its emissaries could learn how to take the money that
belonged to other people without being jailed, or, having
been jailed, how they could most quickly be freed to obtain
the use of their plunder. But Mr. Kenyon made no effort
to divert this tide. He wanted no part of it in his office,
166
The corporate interests which he represented were for the
most part those which required his services to resist the
depredations planned upstairs.
John Kenyon would have been a great lawyer but for
the lack of one important ingredient of greatness imagi-
nation. His knowledge of the law was extraordinary.
His mind was crystal-clear, analytical but not inventive,
judicial but not prophetic. He would have graced the
robes of a Justice of the Supreme Bench ; but as a potent
force in modern affairs he was not far from mediocrity.
He had begun his career in the office of Philip Gallatin's
grandfather, had been associated with Philip Gallatin's
father, but with the passing of the old firm he had opened
offices of his own. The initiative which he lacked had
been supplied by Gordon Hood, a brisk Bostonian of the
omniscient type ; and the accession of young Philip Galla-
tin four years ago had done still more to supply the in-
gredients which modern conditions seemed to require. It
had meant much to John Kenyon to have Phil in the firm,
for the perspective of Time had done little to dim the
luster which hung about the name of Gallatin and the
junior member had shown early signs that he, too, was
possessed of much of the genius of his forebears.
Kenyon had watched the development of the boy with
mingled delight and apprehension and, with the memory
of the failings of his ancestors fresh in his mind, had done
what he could to avert impending evil. It was at his
advice that young Gallatin had gone to the Canadian
woods, and he had noted with interest and not a little
curiosity his return to his desk two months ago sobered
and invigorated. Phil had plunged into the work which
awaited him with quiet intention, and the way he had
taken hold of his problems and solved them, had filled
the senior partner with new hopes for his future. He
167
THE SILENT BATTLE
loved the boy as he could have loved a son, as he must
love the son of Evelyn Westervelt, and it had taken much
to destroy John Kenyon's belief in Phil's ultimate success.
But this last failure had broken that faith. Through the
efforts of Gordon Hood the firm had won the suit for
which Phil Gallatin had prepared it, but it was an empty
victory to John Kenyon, who had seen during the prepara-
tion of the case Phil Gallatin's chance, his palingenesis
the restitution of all his rights, physical and moral.
Fully aware of John Kenyon's attitude toward him,
for two weeks Philip Gallatin had remained uptown and,
until his dinner at Mrs. Pennington's, to which he had
gone in response to especial pleading, had hidden himself
even from his intimates. He had sent word to John Ken-
yon that he was indisposed, but both men knew what his
absence meant. John Kenyon had been the one rock to
which Phil Gallatin had tied, the one man with whom he
had been willing to talk of himself, the one man of all his
friends from whom he would even take a reproach. It
was on John Kenyon's account, more even than on his own,
that Gallatin so keenly suffered for his failure at the
critical moment. The time had indeed come for a reckon-
ing, and yesterday Gallatin had planned to retire from
the firm and save his senior partner the pains of further
responsibility on his account. He had been weighed in
the balance, a generous balance with weights which favored
him, and had been found wanting.
But last night a miracle had happened and the visit
of renunciation which he had even planned for this very
morning had been turned into one of contrition and ap-
peal. And difficult as he found the interview before him,
he entered the office with a light step and a face aglow with
the new resolution which had banished the somber shadow
that for so long had hung about him.
168
It was early, and the business of the day had just
begun. At his appearance several of the stenographers
looked up from their work and scrutinized him with in-
terest, and the chief clerk rose and greeted him.
" Good morning, Tooker," he nodded cheerfully. " Is
Mr. Kenyon in yet? "
" No, sir. It's hardly his time "
" Please tell him I'd like to see him if he can spare me
a moment."
Then he entered a door which bore his name and
closed it carefully behind him, opened his desk, glanced
at his watch, made two or three turns up and down the
room and then took up the telephone book, Logan
Lord Lorimer, Loring. There it was. 7000 Plaza. He
hesitated again and then rang up the number.
It was some moments before the butler consented to
get Miss Loring, and when he did she did not recognize
his voice.
"Who is it?" she asked.
" Can't you guess ? "
" Oh, Phil ! I didn't know you at all. Where are
you? "
" At the office."
" Already ! And I'm not out of bed ! "
" Did I wake you? I'm sorry "
" I'm glad. I didn't mean to go to sleep, but I did
sleep, somehow "
" I haven't been asleep. I couldn't "
"Why not?"
" It's so much pleasanter to be awake."
" I think so, too, but then I dreamed, Phil."
" Pleasant dreams? "
" Oh, beautiful ones, full of demigods and things."
"What things?"
169
THE SILENT BATTLE
" Enchanted broughams. Oh, how did it happen,
Phil?"
" It had to happen."
" I can't believe it yet."
He laughed. " If I were there I'd try to convince
you."
" Yes, I think you could. I'm willing to admit that."
" Are you sorry? "
" N-o. But I'm so used to being myself. I can't
understand. It's strange that's all. And I'm glad you
called me. I've had a terrifying feeling that you must
be somebody else, too."
" I am somebody else."
" I mean somebody I don't know very well.**
" There's a remedy for that."
"What?"
" Doses of demigod. Repeat every hour."
"Oh !"
" Don't you like the prescription? "
" I I think so."
" Then why not try it? "
" I I think I ought to, oughtn't I? "
" I'm sure of it. In a day or so the symptoms you
speak of will entirely disappear."
" Are you sure ? "
" Positive."
" I I think they're less acute already. You really
are you, aren't you? "
" If I wasn't, you wouldn't be you, don't you see? "
"Yes, and I'd be frightfully jealous if I had been
somebody else." She laughed. " Oh, Phil ! What a con-
versation ! I hope no one is listening."
" I'm sure they're not. They couldn't understand
anyway."
170
THE JUNIOR MEMBER
" Not unless they're quite mad as we are. What are
you doing? Working? "
" Yes, drawing a deed for an acre in Paradise."
" Don't be foolish. Who for? "
" Me. And there's a deed of trust."
" I'll sign that."
" We'll both sign it. It's well secured, Jane. Don't
you believe me? "
" Yes, I do," slowly.
There was a pause and then he asked, " When can I
see you? "
" Soon."
"This afternoon?"
" I've a luncheon."
" And then "
" Tea at the Oh, Phil, I'll have to cut that.
There's a dance to-night, too, the Ledyards'."
" This is getting serious."
" What can I do ? I've been frightfully rude already.
Can't you go? "
" Not sufficiently urged."
" Then I shan't either. I don't want to go. I want
the acre of Paradise."
" Where will I meet you, Jane? "
" Here at four."
" I'll be there."
" Until then, good-by, and, Phil "
" Yes."
" Please wear that flannel shirt, disreputable hat
and "
"And the beard?"
" No not the beard. But I want to be convinced
there's no mistake."
" I'd rather convince you without them."
171
THE SILENT BATTLE
11 Oh, I've no doubt you will," she sighed. " There's
so much I've got to say to you, Phil. I won't know where
to begin "
" Just where you stopped."
" But I I wasn't saying anything just then. I
couldn't. There there were reasons."
He laughed gayly.
" I've still other reasons."
"Oh!"
" Convincing ones."
" Phil, I won't listen. Good-by ! "
" Good-by."
" Hadn't we better go for a walk? " she asked.
" No please "
" Oh, very well," with a tone of resignation. " There
you see, I'm submitting again. At four, then. Good-
by." She cut off and he hung up the receiver, sitting
for a long while motionless, looking out of the window. He
took out his watch and was examining it impatiently when
the chief clerk came in.
" Mr. Kenyon will see you now, Mr. Gallatin," he said.
John Kenyon paused in the reading of his mail and
looked up over the half-moons in his glasses when Galla-
tin appeared at the door.
" Come in, Phil," he said quietly, offering his hand.
He sat down at his desk again and formally indicated the
chair nearest it. His manner was kindly and full of an
old-fashioned dignity, indicating neither indifference nor
encouragement, and this seemed to make Philip Gallatin's
position if anything more difficult and painful. Instead
of sitting, Gallatin turned toward the window and stood
there.
" I've come back, Uncle John," he muttered.
Kenyon glanced up at him, the calm judicial glance
172
THE JUNIOR MEMBER
of a man who, having no venal faults himself, tolerates
them in others with difficulty. There was no family rela-
tionship between the men, and Gallatin's use of the familiar'
term at this time meant much, and something in Phil Gal-
latin's pose arrested Kenyan's eye, the jaw that had
worked forward and was now clamped tightly by its
throbbing muscles, the bulk of the squared shoulders and
the decision with which one hand clasped the chair-back.
"I'm glad of that, Phil," he said. "I was on the
point of thinking you had given me up."
" I had. I had given you up. I haven't been down
here because I knew it wasn't necessary for me to come
and because I thought you'd understand."
" I understood."
" I wrote you two or three letters, but I tore them up.
I wanted to sever my connection with the firm. I wanted
to save you the pain of thinking about me any longer.
I knew I hadn't any right here, that I haven't had any
right here for a long while two or three years, that I
had been taking my share of fees I had never earned, and
that it was only through your friendship for me that
I've been encouraged to stay as long as this. I wanted
to save you the pain of talking to me again "
" I've never denied you my friendship, Phil. I don't
deny it now. I only thought that you might have "
Gallatin turned swiftly and raised his hand.
" Don't, Mr. Kenyon ! For God's sake, don't reproach
me," he said ardently. " Reproaches won't help me only
wound. They've already been ringing in my ears for
days since the last time " he paused.
" Never mind."
Gallatin strode the length of the room, struggling for
the control of his voice, and when he came back it was to
stand facing the senior partner quite composed.
173
THE SILENT BATTLE
" There isn't a man in the world who would do as
much for one who merited so little. I'm not going over
that. Words can't mean much from me to you ; but what
I would like you to know is that I don't want to go out of
the firm, and that, if you'll bear with me, I want another
chance to prove myself. I've never promised anything.
You've never asked me to. Thank God, that much of
my self-respect at least is saved out of the ruins. I want
to give my word now "
" Don't do that," said Kenyon hurriedly. " It isn't
necessary."
" Yes, I must. I've given it to myself, and I'll keep
it, never fear. That was the last the very last."
Kenyon twisted his thin body in his chair and looked
up at the junior member keenly, but as he did so his eyes
blurred and he saw, as thirty years ago he had seen the
figure of this boy's father standing as Phil Gallatin was
standing enmeshed in the toils of Fate, gifted, handsome,
lovable and yet doomed to go, a mental and physical
ruin, before his time. The resemblance of Philip Gallatin
to his father was striking the same high forehead, heavy
brows and deep-set eyes, the same cleanly cut aquiline
nose, and heavy chin. There were lines, too, in Phil
Gallatin's face, lines which had appeared in the last two
years which made the resemblance even more assured.
And yet to John Kenyon, there seemed to be a difference.
There was something of Evelyn Westervelt in him, too,
the clean straight line of the jawbone and the firmly
modeled lips, thinner than the father's and more decisive.
" I'm glad of that, Phil," he said slowly.
" I'm not asking you to believe in me again. Broken
faith can't be repaired by phrases. I don't want you to
believe in me until I've made good. I want to come in
here again on sufferance, as you took me in six years ago,
174
THE JUNIOR MEMBER
without a share in the business of the firm that I don't
make myself or for which I don't give my services. I
want to begin at the bottom of the ladder again and
climb it rung by rung."
" Oh, I can't listen to that. Our partnership agree-
ment "
" That agreement is canceled. I don't want a partner-
ship agreement. It's got to be so. I've been thinking
hard, Mr. Kenyon. It's responsibility I need "
" You're talking nonsense, Phil. You did more work
in the Marvin case than either Hood or myself."
" Perhaps, but I didn't win it," he said quickly.
" The firm did."
" I can't agree with you. I'll come in this office on
the conditions I suggest, or I must withdraw. My mind is
made up on that. I don't want to go, and it won't be
easier for me anywhere else. This is where I belong, and
this is where I want to fight my battle, if I can do it in
my own way without the moral or financial help of any
one of you, least of all."
Gallatin paused and walked, his head bent, the length
of the room. John Kenyon followed him with his eyes,
then turned to the window and for a long while remained
motionless. Philip Gallatin returned to the vacant chair
and sat leaning forward eagerly.
The senior partner turned at last, his kind homely
face alight with a smile.
" You don't need my faith, my boy, if you've got faith
of your own, but I give it to you gladly. Give me your
hand." He got up and the two men clasped hands,
and Phil Gallatin's eyes did not flicker or fade before the
searching gaze of the other man. It was a pact, none the
less solemn for the silence with which one of them entered
into it.
175
THE SILENT BATTLE
" You're awake, Phil? " he asked.
" Yes, that's it, Uncle John. Awake," said Gallatin.
" I'm glad I'm very glad. And I believe it. I've
never been able to get used to the idea of jour being really
out of here. We need you, my boy, and I've got work
for you, of the kind that will put your mettle to the test.
There's a great opportunity in it, and I'll gladly turn it
over to you. 'Sic itur ad astra? my boy. Will you take
it? "
" Gladly. A corporation case? "
" Sanborn et al. vs. The Sanborn Mining Company.
Sit here and I'll explain it to you."
(176
XV
DISCOVERED
WOMEN have a code of their own, a system of
signals, a lip and sign language perfectly in-
telligible among themselves, but mystifying, as
they purpose it to be, to mere man. Overweening hus-
bands, with a fine air of letting the cat out of the bag,
have been known to whisper that these carefully guarded
secrets are no secrets at all, and that women are merely
children of a larger growth, playing at hide and seek
with one another (and with their common enemy) for the
mere love of the game, that there are no mysteries in their
natures to be solved, and that the vaunted woman's in-
stinct, like the child's, is as apt to be wrong as often as it
is right. Of course, no one believes this, and even if one
did, man would go his way and woman hers. Woman
would continue to believe in the accuracy of her intuitions
and man would continue to marvel at them. Woman
would continue to play at hide and seek, and man would
continue to enjoy the game.
Call them by what name you please, instinct, intuition,
or guesswork, Mrs. Richard Pennington had succeeded by
methods entirely feminine, in discovering that Phil Galla-
tin's Dryad was Jane Loring, that he was badly in love
with her and that Jane was not indifferent to his atten-
tions. Phil Gallatin had not been difficult to read, and
Mrs. Pennington took a greater pride in the discovery of
Jane's share in the romance, for she knew when Jane left
177
THE SILENT BATTLE
her house in company with Phil that her intuition had not
erred.
Jane Loring had kissed her on both cheeks and called
her " odious."
This in itself was almost enough, but to complete the
chain of evidence, she learned that Dawson, her head
coachman, in the course of execution of her orders, had
gone as far North as 125th Street before his unfortunate
mistake of Miss Loring's number had been discovered by
the occupants of the brougham.
Mrs. Pennington realized that this last bit of evidence
had been obtained at the expense of a breach of hos-
pitality, for she was not a woman who made a practice
of talking with her servants, but she was sure that the
ends had justified the means and the complete success of
her maneuver more than compensated for her slight loss
of self-respect in its accomplishment.
But while her discovery pleased her, she was not with-
out a sense of responsibility in the matter. She had been
hoping for a year that a girl of the right kind would come
between Phil and the fate he seemed to be courting, for
since his mother's death he had lived alone, and seclusion
was not good for men of his habits. She had wanted Phil
to meet Jane Loring, and her object in bringing them to-
gether had been expressed in a definite hope that they
would learn to like each other a great deal. But now that
she knew what their relations were, she was slightly op-
pressed by the thought of unpleasant possibilities.
It was in the midst of these reflections that Miss
Jaffray was announced, and in a moment she entered the
room with a long half-mannish, half-feline stride and took
up her place before the mantelpiece where she stood, her
feet apart, toasting her back at the open fire. Mrs. Pen-
nington indicated the cigarettes, and Nina Jaffray took
178
DISCOVERED
one, rolling it in her fingers and tapping the end of it on
her wrist to shake out the loose dust as a man would do.
" I'm flattered, Nina," said Nellie Pennington. " To
what virtue of mine am I indebted for the earliness of this
visit? "
" I slept badly," said Nina laconically.
" And I'm the anodyne? Thanks."
" Oh, no ; merely an antidote."
"For what?"
" Myself. I've got the blues."
"You! Impossible."
" Oh, yes. It's quite true. I'm quite wretched."
" Dressmaker or milliner?"
" Neither. Just bored, I think; You know I've been
out five years now. Think of it ! And I'm twenty-four.
Isn't that enough to make an angel weep? "
" It's too sad to mention," said Mrs. Pennington.
" You used to be such a nice little thing, too."
Nina Jaffray raised a hand in protest.
" Don't, Nellie, it's no joke, I can tell you. I'm not
a nice little thing any longer, and I know it. I'm a hoy-
denish, hard-riding, loud-spoken vixen, and that's the
truth. I wish I was a ' nice little thing ' as you call it,
like Jane Loring for instance, with illusions and hopes
and a proclivity for virtue. I'm not. I like the talk of
men "
" That's not unnatural so do I."
" I mean the talk of men among men. They interest
me, more what they say than what they are. They're
genuine, somehow. You can get the worst and the best
of them at a sitting. One can't do that with women.
Most of us are forever purring and pawing and my-
dearing one another when we know that what we want to
do is to spit and claw. I like the easy ways of men col-
179
THE SILENT BATTLE
lectively, Nellie, not individually, and I've come and gone
among them because it seemed the most natural thing in
the world to do. I've made a mistake. I know it now.
When a girl gets to be ' a good fellow ' she does it at
the expense either of her femininity or her morals. And
men make the distinction without difficulty. I'm ' a good
fellow,' " she said scornfully, " and I'm decent. Men
know it, but they know, too, that I have no individual
appeal. Why only last week at the Breakfast the Sackett
boy clapped me on the back and called me ' a jolly fine
chap.' I put him down, I can tell you. I'd rather he'd,
called me anything anything even something dread-*
ful if it had only been feminine."
She flicked her cigarette into the fire and dropped into
a chair.
Mrs. Pennington laughed.
" All this is very unmanly of you, Nina."
" Oh, I'm not joking. You're like the others. Just}
because I've ridden through life with a light hand, you
think I'm in no danger of a cropper. Well, I am. I've
had too light a hand, and I'm out in the back-stretch with!
a winded horse. You didn't make that mistake, Nellie^
Why couldn't you have warned me? "
Mrs. Pennington held off the embroidery frame at
arm's length and examined it with interest.
" You didn't ask me to, Nina," she replied quietly.
" No, I didn't. I never ask advice. When I do, it's
only to do the other thing. But you might have offered
it just the same."
" I might have, if I knew you wouldn't have followed
it."
" No," reflectively. " I think I'd have done what you!
said. I like you immensely, you know, Nellie. You're a
good sort besides being everything I'm not."
180
DISCOVERED
" Meaning what? "
" Oh, I don't know. You're all woman, for one thing."
" I have had two children," smiled the other toward
the ceiling. " I could hardly be anything else."
"Is that it?" asked the visitor; and then after a
(pause, " I don't like children."
" Not other people's. You'd adore your own."
" I wonder."
Mrs. Pennington's pretty shoulders gave an expressive
shrug.
" Marry, my dear. Nothing defines one's sex so accu-
rately. Marry for love if you can, marry for money if
you must, but marry just the same. You may be un-
happy, but you'll never be bored."
Nina Jaffray gazed long into the fire.
" I've been thinking about it," she said. " That's
>^hat I came to see you about."
" Oh, Nina, I'm delighted ! " cried Nellie Pennington
genuinely, " and so flattered. Who, my dear child? "
" I've been thinking seriously."
" You must have had dozens of offers."
" Oh, yes, from fortune hunters and gentlemen jockeys,
but I'm not a philanthropic institution. Curiously enough
my taste is quite conventional. I want a New Yorker
a man with a mind with a future, perhaps, neither a prig
nor a rake human enough not to be too good, decent
enough not to be burdensome a man with weaknesses, if
you like, a poor man, perhaps "
"Nina. Who?"
Miss Jaffray paused.
" I thought I'd marry Phil Gallatin," she said quietly.
Mrs. Pennington laid her embroidery frame down and
looked up quickly. Nina Jaffray's long legs were ex-
tended toward the blaze, but her head was lowered and her
181
THE SILENT BATTLE
eyes gazed steadily before her. It was easily to be seen
that she was quite serious more serious than Mrs. Pen-
nington liked.
" Phil Gallatin! Oh, Nina, you can't mean it? "
" I do. There isn't a man in New York I'd rather
marry than Phil."
" Does he know it ? "
" No. But I mean that he shall."
" Don't be foolish. You two would end in the ditch
in no time."
Nina straightened and examined her hostess calmly.
" Do you think so ? " she asked at last.
" Yes, I think so " Nellie Pennington paused, and
whatever it was that she had in mind to say remained
unspoken. Instinct had already warned her that Nina
was the kind of girl who is only encouraged by obstacles.,
and it was not her duty to impose them.
" Stranger things have happened, Nellie," she laughed.
" But are you sure Phil will er accept you ? "
" Oh, no, and I shan't be discouraged if he refuses,"
she went on oblivious of Nellie Pennington's humor.
" Then you do mean to speak to him? "
" Of course." Nina's eyes showed only grave surprise
at the question. " How should he know it otherwise? "
" Your methods are nothing, if not direct."
" Phil would never guess unless I told him. For a
clever man he's singularly stupid about women. I think
that's why I like him. Why shouldn't I tell him? What's
the use of beating around the bush? It's such a waste of
time and energy."
Mrs. Pennington's laugh threw discretion to the winds.
" Oh, Nina, you'll be the death of me yet. There
never was such a passion since the beginning of Time."
182
DISCOVERED
" I didn't say I loved Phil Gallatin," corrected Nina
promptly. "I said I'd decided to marry him."
" And have you any reason to suppose that he shares
your er nubile emotions? "
" None whatever. He has always been quite indifferent
to me to all women. I think the arrangement might be
advantageous to him. He's quite poor and I've got more
money than I know what to do with. He's not a fool, and
I'm Nellie, I'm not old-looking or ugly, am I? Why
shouldn't he like me, if he doesn't like any one else? "
" No reason in the world, dear. I'd marry you, if I
were a man."
Mrs. Pennington took to cover uneasily, conscious that
here was a situation over which she could have no control.
She was not in Phil Gallatin's confidence or in Jane Lor-
ing's, and the only kind of discouragement she could offer
must fail of effectiveness with a girl who all her life had
done everything in the world that she wanted to do, and
who had apparently decided that what she now wanted
was Phil Gallatin. Nina's plans would have been amusing
had they not been rather pathetic, for Nellie Pennington
had sought and found below her visitor's calm exterior, a
vein of seriousness, of regret and self-reproach, which was
not to be diverted by the usual methods. Did she really
care for Phil? Clever as Mrs. Pennington was, she could
not answer that. But she knew that it was a part of Nina
Jaffray's methods to do the unexpected thing, so that her
sincerity was therefore always open to question. Nellie
Pennington took the benefit of that doubt.
" Has it occurred to you, Nina, that he may care for
some one else ? "
Her visitor turned quickly. " You don't think so, do
you? " she asked sharply.
" How should / know? " Mrs. Pennington evaded.
183
THE SILENT BATTLE
" I've thought of that, Nellie. Who was Phil's wood-
nymph? He's very secretive about it. I wonder why."
" I don't believe there was a wood-nymph," said Mrs.
Pennington slowly. " Besides, Phil would hardly be in
love with that sort of girl."
" That's just the point. What sort of a girl was she?
What reason could Phil have for keeping the thing a
secret? Was it an amourette? If it was, then it's Phil
Gallatin's business and nobody else's. But if the girl was
one of Phil's own class and station, like "
" Miss Loring," announced the French maid softly
from the doorway.
Nina Jaffray paused and an expression of annoyance
crossed her face. She straightened slowly in her chair,
then rose and walked across the room. Mrs. Pennington
hoped that she would go, but she only took another
cigarette and lit it carefully.
" You're too popular, Nellie," she said, taking a chair
by the fire.
Mrs. Pennington raised a protesting hand.
" Don't say that, Nina. For years I've been dreading
that adjective. When a woman finds herself popular with
her own sex it means that she's either too passee to be
dangerous, too staid to be interesting, or too stupid to be
either. Morning, Jane ! So glad ! Is it chilly out or are
those cheeks your impersonal expression of the joy of
living? "
"Both, you lazy creature! How do you do, Nina?
This is my dinner call, Mrs. Pennington. I simply couldn't
wait to be formal."
" I'm glad, dear." And then mischievously, " Did you
get home safely? "
" Oh, yes, but it was a pity to take poor Mr. Gallatin
so far out of his way," she replied carelessly.
184
DISCOVERED
"Poor Phil ! That's the fate of these stupid ineligible
bachelors to act as postilion to the chariot of Venus.
Awfully nice boy, but so uninteresting at times."
"Is he? I thought him very attractive," said Jane.
" He's one of the Gallatins, isn't he? "
" Yes, dear, the last of them. I was afraid you
wouldn't like him."
" Oh, yes, I do. Quite a great deal. He's a friend of
yours, isn't he, Nina? "
" I've known him for ages," said Miss Jaffray dryly ;
and then to Mrs. Pennington, " Why shouldn't Jane like
him, Nellie? "
" Oh, I don't know," she finished with a gesture of
graceful retirement. Their game of hide and seek was
amusing, but hazardous in the present company, so she
quickly turned the conversation into other channels.
Nina Jaffray and Jane Loring had met in the late
autumn at a house party at the Ledyards' place in Vir-
ginia, and while their natures were hardly concordant,
each had found in the other some ingredients which made
for amiability. Jane's interest had been dictated by
curiosity rather than approval, for Nina Jaffray was like
no other girl she had ever met before. Whatever her man-
ners, and these, Jane discovered, could be atrocious, her
instincts were good, and her intentions seemed of the best.
To Miss Jaffray, Jane Loring was ' a nice little thing '
who had shown a disposition not to interfere with other
people's plans, a nice little thing, amiable and a trifle
prudish, for whom Nina's kind of men hadn't seemed to
care. They had not been, and could never be intimate,
but upon a basis of good fellowship, they existed with
mutual toleration and regard.
Nellie Pennington, from her shadowed corner, watched
the two girls with the keenest of interest and curiosity.
185
Nina Jaffray sat with hands clasped around one upraised
knee, her head on one side listening carelessly to Jane's
enthusiastic account of the Ledyards' ball, commenting
only in monosyllables, but interested in spite of herself
in Jane's ingenuous point of view, aware in her own heart
of a slight sense of envy that she no longer possessed a
susceptibility to those fresh impressions.
Nina was not pretty this morning, Nellie Pennington
thought. Hers was the effectiveness of midnight which
requires a spot-light and accessories and, unless in the
hunting field, midday was unkind to her; while Jane who
had danced late brought with her all the freshness of
early blossoms. But she liked Nina, and that remarkable
confession, however stagy and Nina-esque, had set her
thinking about Jane Loring and Mr. Gallatin. It was
a pretty triangle and promised interesting possibilities.
Jane was still speaking when Nina interrupted, as
though through all that she had heard, one train of
thought had persisted.
" What did you mean, Nellie, about Phil Gallatin
being ineligible ? " she asked. " And I know you don't
think him stupid. And why shouldn't Jane Loring like
him? I don't think I understand? "
Nellie Pennington smiled. She had made a mistake.
Hide and seek as a game depends for its success upon the
elimination of the bystander.
" I am afraid, of course, that Jane would be falling
in love with him," she said lightly. And then, " That
would have been a pity. Don't you think so, Nina ? "
" There's hardly a danger of that," laughed Jane,
'* seeing that I've just just been introduced to the man.
[You needn't be at all afraid, Nina."
" I'm not. Besides he's awfully gone on a wood-
186
nymph. You saw him blush when I spoke of it at dinner
here didn't you, Jane ? "
" Yes, I did," said Jane, now quite rosy herself.
" Phil wouldn't have blushed you know," said Nina
confidently, " unless he was terribly rattled. He was
rattled. That's what I can't understand. Suppose he
did find a girl who was lost in the woods. What of it?
It's nobody's business but his own and the girl's. I'd be
furious if people talked about me the way they're talking
about Phil and that girl. I was lost once in the Adiron-
dacks. You were, too, in Canada only last summer, Jane.
You told me so down in Virginia and
Jane Loring had struggled hard to control her emo-
tion, and bent her head forward to conceal her discom-
posure, but Nina's eyes caught the rising color which had
flowed to the very tips of her ears.
" Jane! " cried Nina in sharp accents of amazed dis-
covery. " It was you ! "
The game of hide and seek had terminated disastrously
for Jane, and her system of signals, useful to deceive as
well as reveal had betrayed her. It was clearly to be
seen that further dissimulation would be futile, so she
raised her head slowly, the color gone from her cheeks.
" Yes, it was I," she said with admirable coolness.
" Meeting Mr. Gallatin here the other night reminded me
of it. That was one of the things I came to tell Mrs.
Pennington this morning. But I don't suppose there's
any reason why you shouldn't know it, too, Nina. If it
hadn't been for Mr. Gallatin I know I should have died*
You see, I had slipped and wrenched my ankle and, of;
course, couldn't move "
" It must have been terrible ! " put in Nellie Penning-*
ton in dire distress. " You poor child ! "
" I haven't spoken of it," Jane went on hurriedlyg
1ST
THE SILENT BATTLE
" because there wasn't any reason why I should. But
now, of course, that this story is going the rounds, it's
just as well that people knew. It wasn't necessary to tell
Mr. Gallatin my name up there, and until he met me in
New York he did not know who I was. That, of course,
is why the whole thing has seemed so mysterious." She
paused and smiled rather obtrusively at her companions.
" It's really a very trivial matter to make such a fuss
about, isn't it? "
" Absurd ! " said Mrs. Pennington, with enthusiasm.
" I wouldn't worry about it in the least."
" It does sound rather romantic, though," laughed
Jane uneasily, " but it wasn't a bit. We nearly starved
and poor Mr. Gallatin was almost dead with fatigue
when they found us."
" Who found you ? " asked Miss Jaff ray.
" The guides, of course."
"Oh!" said Nina.
Nellie Pennington put down her embroidery and rose.
This wouldn't do.
" Jane," she said laughing. " You make me wild with
envy. You're a person to whom all sorts of interesting
things are always happening. And now I hear you're
engaged to Coleman Van Duyn. Come, child, sit here and
tell me all about it."
" It's not true. I'm very flattered, of course,
but "
" You'd better admit it. Nina won't tell, will you,
Nina? "
But Miss Jaffray had risen and was drawing on her
gloves.
" Oh, no. I wouldn't tell. Besides you know I don't
believe it." She glanced at the clock, and brushed a speck
from her sleeve.
188
" I think I'll be going on," she said. " Good-by, Jane.
Nellie, I'll see you at the ' Pot and Kettle,' won't I? " and
went out of the room.
Mrs. Pennington followed her to the upper landing
and when she had gone, returned thoughtfully to the
room.
189
XVI
BEHIND THE ENEMY'S BACK
AS she turned and came into the room again, Jane
Loring met her in the middle of the rug, seized her
in her arms, kissed her rapturously on both cheeks,
and confessed, though not without some hesitation, the
object of her visit. Nellie Pennington led her to a divan
near the window, and seated there holding one of her
visitor's hands in both of hers, listened enchanted to the
full tale of Jane's romance. Her delight was undisguised,
'for Nina Jaffray's rather frigid exit had already been
forgotten by them both.
" Oh, Nellie, I'm so happy. I simply had to tell some-
body. I wanted to come here yesterday, but I couldn't
muster up the courage."
"And I'm not really 'odious'?" asked Mrs. Pen-
nington.
" No, no," laughed Jane. " You're a sister to the
angels. I hated him, Nellie, that night. I would have
died rather than let him know I cared for him and yet
I did let him know it "
" Love and hate are first cousins. Love hates because
it's afraid, Jane."
" Yes, that's true. I was afraid of myself of
him "
" Not now? "
"No," proudly. "Not even of Fate itself. We'll
face whatever is to come together. I believe in him
utterly."
190
BEHIND THE ENEMY'S BACK
Nellie Pennington kissed her.
" So do I, Jane. I always have and in you. I can't
tell you how glad I am that you have told me all this.
Flattered, too, child. I'm rather worldly wise, perhaps,
even more so than your mother "
" I haven't told mother," Jane put in with sudden
demureness.
" Take my advice and do so immediately. Omit noth-
ing. Your mother must put a stop to this story by telling
the truth."
" Mother, you know, had hoped that I would marry
Coleman Van Duyn. She doesn't approve of Phil, and
father " Jane paused as she remembered her father's
estimate of Phil Gallatin " and neither does my father,"
she finished thoughtfully.
" Oh, it will work out some way ; such things do. But]
tell them at once."
" I think I had already decided that. But it isn'iJ
going to be easy. With me with mother, my father iss
the soul of kindness, but with men " She paused.
" Phil must take his chance."
" Yes, but father must respect him."
" Phil must earn his respect."
Jane was silent for a moment.
" My father has a sharp tongue at times," she went
on. " He has mentioned Phil Gallatin's name unpleas-
antly. I couldn't stand hearing him spoken about in that
way. I couldn't listen. I couldn't tolerate it even from
my father. I have made a decision and father must
abide by it. He must accept Phil as I have accepted him.
I am satisfied. A man's past is his own. He can only
give a girl his future. I used to think differently, but I'm
content with that. Phil's future is mine, and I'll take my
half of it, whatever it is."
191
THE SILENT BATTLE
At the mention of her father, Jane had risen and
walked restlessly about, but as she finished speaking she
turned and faced her companion squarely. Nellie Pen-
nington rose and took her again in her arms.
" You'll do, Jane. I'm not afraid for you for either
of you. Let me help you. I want to. I don't think I
could be happier if I were in love myself. He's worthy of
you. I'm sure of it. Shall you marry him soon, dear?"
Jane colored adorably.
" No not soon, I think. We have not spoken of that.
Phil wants time to prove to show everybody "
She paused and Nellie Pennington breathed a sigh of
relief. Her responsibilities had oppressed her.
" Let him, Jane," she urged quickly. " It's better so.
You're very young. There's plenty of time. A year or
two and then "
" I'll marry him when he asks me to," Jane finished
simply.
Nellie Pennington pressed her hands warmly, and they
sat for a long time side by side while Jane told of all that
had happened in the woods, including the sudden and un-
pleasant termination of her idyl. Nellie Pennington lis-
tened soberly, and learned more of the definiteness with
which fate had placed the steps of these two young people
upon the same pathway into the future. Love dwelt in
Jane's eyes and confidence, a trust and belief in Phil
>Gallatin that put Nellie Pennington's rather assertive
indorsement of him to the blush. She realized now that
below Jane Loring's placid exterior, there was a depth of
feeling, a quiet strength and resolution of which she had
never even dreamed; for she, too, had thought Jane a
" nice little thing " a pretty, amiable, cheerful soul
without prejudices, who would add much to her own joy
f life, and to the intimate circle of young people she
192
BEHIND THE ENEMY'S BACK
chose to gather around her. Some of the girl's faith
found its way into her own heart and she saw Phil now,
as she had always hoped to see him, taking his place
among the workers of the world, using the brains God had
given him, and accomplishing the great things that she
knew had always been within his power to accomplish.
When Jane rose to go, Mrs. Pennington detained her
a moment longer.
" How well do you know Nina Jaff ray ? " she asked
slowly.
" Oh, we've always got along admirably, because we've
never interfered with each other, I think. But I don't
understand her nor does she me. Why do you ask? "
" Oh I don't know "
" I thought you liked her, Nellie."
" I do. I like everybody who doesn't bore me. Nina
amuses me because she keeps me in a continual state of
surprise. That's all very well so long as her surprises
are pleasant ones ; but when she wishes to be annoying,
I assure you she can be amazingly disagreeable."
" I imagine so. But I don't think we'll have differ-
ences at least I hope "
" Don't be too intimate that's all. Understand? "
They kissed; after which Jane departed, and on the
way uptown found herself wondering from time to time
whether Nellie Pennington could have meant something
more than Jane thought she did. But in her state of
exaltation nothing could long avail to divert her spirit
from its joyous flight among the enchanted realms that
had been discovered to her. That afternoon late, it was
only going to be very late in the afternoon she now re-
membered, Phil Gallatin was to walk home with her from
somebody's tea, to-morrow they were to dine at the Dorsey-
Mar tin's, and late in the week there was the party at the
193
THE SILENT BATTLE
" Pot and Kettle." After that but what did it matter
what happened after that? Each day, she knew, was to
be more wonderful than the one that had gone before and
it was not well to question the future too insistently.
Sufficient unto the day was the good thereof, and Solomon
indeed was not arrayed inwardly at least as Jane was.
Taking Mrs. Pennington's advice, as soon as she
reached home she sought her mother's room. Mrs. Loring
was reclining at full length on a portable wooden table
which had been set up in the middle of her large apart-
ment, and an osteopath was busy manipulating her small
body. There wasn't really anything the matter with her
except social fag, but she chose this method of rehabili-
tating her tired nerves instead of active exercise which
she abhorred. It was almost with a feeling of pity that
Jane sat beside her mother when the practitioner had de-
parted, for she knew that a scene would follow her con-
fidences. And she was not mistaken ; for when half an
hour later, Jane went to her own room, her mother was
in a state of collapse upon her bed, and Jane's nerves
were singing like taut wires, while on her mind were un-
pleasantly impressed the final words of maternal recrim-
ination. But Jane knew that in spite of the violence
of her mother's opposition, she was very much less to be
dreaded than her father, and that by to-morrow she would
be reconciled to her daughter's point of view and even
might be reckoned upon as an ally. Nor would she speak
to Mr. Loring without her daughter's acquiescence. This
Tane had no intention of giving, for she was sure that
a meeting of her father and Phil, which must, of course,
ensue at once, was not to be looked forward to with pleas-
urable expectation.
It was therefore in no very happy mood that Jane
met Phil Gallatin late that afternoon at the Suydams'
194
tea whence lie went home with her. She had said nothing
of her interview with her mother, and was relieved to
learn at the house that Mrs. Loring had gone out.
She led Phil back into the library and they sat before
the open fire.
" What is it, Jane ? " he asked. " Are you regret-
ting ? "
" No," she smiled. " There isn't room in my heart
for regret. It's full of other things."
" I'm very dense. Can you prove it? "
" I'll try."
The davenport was huge, but only one end of it com-
plained of their weight.
" Phil, are you sure there is no mistake ? "
" Positive."
" And you never cared for any one else ? "
" Never."
"Not Nina Jaffray? "
" No, why do you ask ? "
" She once told me you had a boy-and-girl affair."
" Oh, that ! She used to tease me and I would wash
her face in the snow. That's Nina's idea of mutual affec-
tion."
" It isn't her idea now, is it ? "
" I'm sure I don't know. You'll have to ask Larry
Kane."
" And you don't ever think about her? "
" No except with vague alarm for the safety of the
species."
Jane laughed. " I don't want you to be unkind," she
said, but was not displeased.
There was a silence in which Gallatin peered around
the great room and his eyes smiled as they sought her
face again.
195
THE SILENT BATTLE
" What are you thinking of? " she asked.
" Of this shelter and another."
" Up among the pine trees? Oh, how white and cold it
must be there now! It's ours though, Phil, so per-
sonal "
" I'll build another here in New York."
"Not like this?"
" No hardly " he smiled.
" I'm glad of that. This house oppresses me. It's so
big so silent and yet so noisy with the money that has
been spent on it. I don't like money, Phil."
" That's because you've never felt the need of it.
I'm glad you don't, though. You know I'm not very well
off."
" I don't suppose Daddy would ever let me starve,"
she laughed.
His expression changed and he chose his words deliber-
ately, his face turned toward the fire.
" It isn't my intention to place you in any such posi-
tion," he said with curious precision. " I don't think you
understand. It isn't possible for me to accept anything
from your father, except yourself, Jane. I'll take you
empty-handed as I first found you or not at all."
" But even then you know it was my saucepan "
But he shook his head. " It isn't a question of sauce-
pans now."
" You're not fair, Phil," she murmured soberly. " Is
it my fault that father has become what he is? Why
shouldn't I help? I have something of my own some
stock in "
He closed her lips with a kiss.
" I've got to have my own way. Can't you under-
stand?" he whispered earnestly. "It's my sanity I'm
fighting for sanity of body and mind, and the medicines
are toil drudgery responsibility. I've never known
196
And you never cared for any one else ? '
what work really meant. One doesn't learn that sort of
thing in the crowd I've been brought up with. It's only
the money a fellow makes himself that does him any good.
I've seen other fellows raised as I was losing their hold
on life slipping into the quagmire. I always thought I
could pull up when I liked when I got ready. But when
I tried I found I couldn't."
He paused and Jane pressed his hand in both of hers.
But he went on decisively, " Desperate illnesses need
desperate remedies, Jane. I learned that up there with
you. I've been ill, but I've found the cure and I'm taking
it already. Downtown I've cut myself off from all financial
support. I shan't have a dollar that I cannot make. I'm
driven to the wall and I'm going to fight."
He paused and then turned and looked into her eyes.
" That's why it is that I want you to come to me empty-
handed. I want to remember every hour of the day that
on my efforts alone your happiness depends your peace
of mind, your future."
" Yes, I understand but it might be made easier "
" There isn't any easy way. And, whatever my other
sins, I wouldn't climb to fortune on a woman's shoulders.
I've nothing to offer you but my love "
"It's enough."
" No, I came into your life a pauper a derelict an
idler a dr "
" Don't, Phil," she whispered, her fingers on his lips.
" I shall come to you sane and whole or I shall not
come to you. I ask nothing of you. You must make me
no promises."
" I don't see how you can prevent that," she smiled.
" I shall make them anyway."
" No, you're not promised to me."
" I am."
" No."
197
THE SILENT BATTLE
" I don't see how you can prevent my promising. Ij
promise to love, honor and obey "
" Then obey at once and stop promising."
" I won't "
" Then what validity has a promise, broken the
moment it's made ? " His logic was inevitable.
" Cherish, then," she evaded.
He held her away from him, looked into her eyes and
laughed. " If it establishes no precedent er you may
cherish me at once."
" What does cherish mean ? "
He showed her.
" I'm afraid the precedent is already established,
Phil," she sighed. She sank back in his arms and he
kissed her tenderly.
" I can't stop seeing you, Jane," he whispered at her
ear. " You renew me, give me new faith in myself, new
hope for the future. I know that I oughtn't to have the
right, but I can't give you up. I need you. When I'm
with you, I wonder how there could ever be any sin in the
world. Your eyes are so clear, dear, like the pool our
pool in the woods and my image in them is as clear as thejr
are. Whatever I've said I don't want that image to go
out of them. Keep it there, Jane, no matter what happens,
and believe in me."
" I will," she whispered, " whatever happens."
" I'll come for you some day, dear, soon perhaps.
I'm working on a big case, one that involves large issues.
All of me that isn't yours, I'm giving to that and that's
yours, too."
" You'll win, Phil."
" Yes, I'll win. I must win," he finished. " I must ."
" Oh, Phil, dear," she murmured. " It doesn't matter^
What should I care whether you win or lose? Whatever.
198
you have been, whatever you are or hope to be, you've
kissed me and I'm yours until the end. What does it
matter what I promise or what I fail to promise? I'll
wait for you because you wish it, but I would tell the
world to-morrow if you'd let me."
" No," he said quickly. " Not yet. I want to look
my Enemy in the eyes, Jane, for for a long while. I'll
stare him down until he slinks away not into the shadows
behind me but away far off so far that he shall not
find me again or I him ever."
" Is the Enemy here now? " she questioned anxiously.
" No," he smiled. " Not here. I drove away from
him in an enchanted brougham."
Jane straightened and looked into the fire.
Phil."
" Yes."
" I've told Nellie Pennington and and mother."
He folded his arms and gazed steadily into the fire.
"What did they say?"
" Nellie Pennington was pleased ; mother was not,"
she said frankly.
" I'm sorry to hear that. But I could hardly have
expected "
" It doesn't matter," she went on hastily. " I thought
you ought to know."
" I shall see Mr. Loring," he said, his brows tangling.
" Is it necessary at once? "
" I think so. There mustn't be any false positions.
I hope I can make him understand. Obviously I can't
visit the house of a man who doesn't want me there."
Jane couldn't reply at once. And when she did her
face was as serious as his own.
" Won't you leave that to me, Phil? " she said gently.
199
XVII
"THE POT AND KETTLE"
THE " Pot and Kettle " was up in the hills near
Tuxedo, within motoring distance of the city and
near enough to a station to be convenient to those
who were forced to depend upon the railroad. It was a
gabled farmhouse of an early period converted by the
young men of Colonel Broadhurst's generation into its
latter-day uses as a club for dilettante cooks, where the
elect might come in small parties on snowy winter nights,
or balmy summer ones, and concoct with their own hands
the glasses and dishes most to their liking. Its member-
ship was limited and its fellows clannish. Most of the
younger members of the Club had been proposed on the
day of their birth, and accession at the age of twenty-one
to its rights and privileges had always been the signal for
a celebration with an intent both gastronomic and bibulous.
On club nights every one contributed his share to the
evening's entertainment, and the right to mix cocktails,
make the salad dressing, or grill the bird was transmitted
by solemn act in writing from those of the older genera-
tion to those of the new, who could not be dispossessed
of their respective offices without a proper delegation of
authority or the unanimous vote of those present.
A member of the " Pot and Kettle " had the privilege
of giving private entertainments to a select few, provided
due notice was given in advance, and upon that occasion
the Club was his own and all other members were warned
to keep off the premises. This gave the " Pot and Kettle "
200
"THE POT AND KETTLE"
affairs a privacy like that which the member enjoyed in
his own home, for it was the unwritten law of the Club
that whatever passed within its doors was not to be
spoken of elsewhere.
Egerton Savage had long ago discovered that no prep-
aration was necessary to make entertainments successful
at the " Pot and Kettle." The number of a party given,
to the steward and his wife, all a host had to do was to
put on his white apron and await the arrival of his guests^
But to give an added zest to this occasion the fortunate
ones had been advised that the party was " for children
only."
And as children they came. Ogden Spencer, Larry
Kane and Coley Van Duyn in a motor direct from the
Cosmos Club arrived first and hurried upstairs with their
packages from the costumers to dress ; the Perrines and
Betty Tremaine followed; then Mrs. Pennington, the
chaperon, and a limousine full of debutantes ; Jane Loring
with Honora Ledyard and Bibby Worthington; and
Dirwell De Lancey with Clifford Benson, and Freddy
Sackett. Nina Jaffray had driven out alone. Most of
the girls had dressed at home and arrived ready for the
fray, and after a few finishing touches in the ladies' dress-
ing-room upstairs were ready to greet their host, at the
foot of the stairs. Egerton Savage, his thin legs emerg-
ing from velvet knee breeches, as Little Boy Blue, met
Little Miss Muffett, Old King Cole, Old Mother Hubbard,
Peter Piper, Margery Daw, Bobby Shafto, Jack Spratt,
Solomon Grundy, and all of the rest of the nursery crew.
Nellie Pennington's debutantes scattered about the build-
ing like a pack of inquisitive terriers, investigating every
nook and cranny, peering into cupboards and closets and
punctuating the clatter of arrival with pleasant little
yelps of delight.
201
As they all assembled at last in the kitchen, large
white aprons, which covered their costumes from neck to
foot, were handed out and the real business of the evening
was begun. Egerton Savage, chief-cook and arbiter, with
a shrewd knowledge of the capabilities of debutantes,
handed each of the young ladies a loaf of bread and a
long toasting fork, their mission being to provide the
toast, as well as the toasts of the night ; and presently an
odor of scorching bread pervaded the place.
Jane rebelled.
" I simply won't be subjected to such an indignity,
Mr. Savage," she laughed. " I can cook really I can."
He eyed her askant and laughed.
v " You must be Mistress Mary, Quite Contrary, aren't
you?"
" I am, and I won't cook toast."
At last he commissioned her to poach the eggs.
Larry Kane, a club member, as the Infant Bacchus, in
fleshlings and cheesecloth with a garland of grape-leaves
on his head, had already begun the concoction known as
the " Pot and Kettle punch," an amber-colored fluid with
a fragrant odor of spices, and a taste that was mildness
itself, but in which there lurked the potent spell of the
wassail of many lands. It was against this punch that
Nellie Pennington had taken pains on the way out in the
machine, to warn her small brood; and some of those
young ladies who had already retired from the fire, stood
beside the mixer of ingredients, sniffing at the uncorked
bottles, making pretty faces and lisping in childish dis-
approval.
Coleman Van Duyn, as Little Jack Homer, his scarlet
face rising like a winter sunset from his white apron,
was superintending the broiling of the lobsters; Dirwell
De Lancey, who proclaimed himself Simple Simon, was
202
carving cold turkey, Freddy Sackett was making the
salad-dressing; while Betty Tremaine, a very comely Z?o-
Peep, was drying the lettuce leaves and crushing them to
the proper consistency between her slender pink fingers;
Yates Rowland stewed the terrapin; Percy Endicott
made the coffee; and Sam Purviance, with Nina Jaffray's
help, made the cocktails.
The festivities of supper were well under way before
Phil Gallatin arrived. It had been late before he could
leave the office, and so he had been obliged to come out by
train. After getting into costume he sought the room
eagerly for Jane and their eyes met in wireless telegraphy
across the table. The chairs beside her were occupied by
Worthington and Van Duyn, so he dropped into a chair
Savage offered him between Mrs. Pennington and Miss
Tremaine. His host thrust a cocktail in front of him
on the table, and Phil thanked him over his shoulder, but
when Savage had gone, he pushed it away. Nellie Pen-
nington realized that he looked a little tired and serious,
but made no comment. Gallatin had been working hard
all day and until the present moment had forgotten that
he had had no lunch. Food revived him and it was not
long before he could enter into the gay spirit of the com"
pany. They were children, indeed. The cooking finished,
their white aprons had been discarded and loud was the
joy at the appearance of the men and eager the compli-
ments for the ladies. The babel of baby rattles and tin
whistles, discontinued for a time, arose again and the
table rang from end to end with joke and laughter.
Bibby Worthington's wig of Bobby Shafto got askew
and at an unfortunate moment was jostled off into the
salad-bowl, upon which his bald head received baptism in
fizz at the hands of the Infant Bacchus. Freddy Perrine,
who had had more than his share of punch, was shooting
203
THE SILENT BATTLE
butter-balls from the prongs of a fork at Kent Beylard's
white shirt-front, for Beylard hadn't had time to go to
the costumer. Dirwell De Lancey insisted upon singing
" The Low-Backed Car," but was prevented from doing
so by the vehemence of his chorus which advised him to
get a limousine. Sam Purviance began telling a story
which seemed to be leading toward Montmartre when
Nellie Pennington rose from the table, and followed by
her buds, adjourned to another room. Here the sound
of a piano was immediately heard and the tireless feet of
the younger set took up the Turkey Trot where they had
left off at three o'clock the night before.
No word had passed between Phil Gallatin and Jane,
and he had just gotten to his feet in pursuit of her when
Nina Jaffray stood in his way.
" Hello, Phil," she said. " I've been wanting to see
you."
" Me? I'm glad of that, Nina. You're certainly a
corker in that get-up. What are you? "
" I'm Jill. Won't you help me fetch a pail of water? "
" And have my crown broken? No, thanks. Besides
I couldn't. It wouldn't be in the part. You see I'm
' Tommy Trot, the man of law,
Who sold his bed to lay on straw. ' '
"Are you? It isn't true, is it, Phil? I heard you
were going out of the firm."
" Oh, no. I've been working, Nina. Sounds queer,
doesn't it? Fact, though."
'' There's something I want to see you about, Phil.
I've been on the point of looking you up at the office."
"You! What is it?" he laughed. "Breach of
promise or alienation of the affections ? "
" Neither," slowly. " Seriously there's something I
204
"THE POT AND KETTLE"
want to say to you." Gallatin looked at her and she met
his eye fairly. " I'd like to talk to you here now if
you don't mind."
" Oh er of course. But if it's anything of a seri-
ous nature perhaps
" I can speak here will you follow me ? "
Gallatin glanced over his shoulder in the direction of
the room into which Jane had disappeared, but there was
nothing left hut to follow, so he helped the girl find a
quiet spot on the back stairway where Nina settled her-
self and motioned to him to a place at her feet. Gallatin
sat trying to conceal his impatience in the smoke of a
cigarette, and wondering how soon Nina would let him go
to Jane.
" Phil, you and I have known each other a good many
years. We've always got along pretty well, haven't we? "
" Of course," he nodded.
" You've never cared much for girls and I've never
thought much about men sentimentally I mean but we
always understood each other and well we're pretty
good friends, aren't we? "
" I'd be very sorry if I thought anything else," he
said politely.
She paused and examined his profile steadily.
" You know, Phil, I'm interested in you. I think I've
always been interested but I never told you so because
because it seemed unnecessary. I thought if you ever
needed my friendship you'd come and ask me for it."
" I would I mean, I do," he stammered.
" Something has been bothering me," she went on
slowly. " The other morning at Nellie Pennington's, Jane
Loring told us the truth about the Drj^ad story."
" Yes."
" And, of course, even though friendship doesn't give
205
me the privilege of your confidence unless you offer it
voluntarily, I thought you might be willing to tell me
something "
" What, Nina? "
" You're not in love with you're not going to marry
Jane Loring, are you ? "
Gallatin smiled.
" I'm hardly the sort of person any girl could afford
to marry," he said slowly.
" Does Jane Loring think so? " she persisted.
" She has every reason to think so," he muttered.
" You're not engaged? " she protested quickly.
" No," he said promptly.
She gave a sigh of relief.
" Oh that's all I wanted to know."
Something unfamiliar in the tones of her voice caused
him to look at his companion.
" What did you want to know for, Nina ? " he ques-
tioned.
" Because if you were engaged if you really were in
love with Jane, I wouldn't care I wouldn't have the
right to speak to you in confidence." She hesitated, look-
ing straight at the bare wall before her, but she smiled
her devil-may-care smile and went on with a touch of her
old manner. " I doubt if you really know me very well
after all. I don't think anybody does. I've got a name
for playing the game wide open and riding roughshod
over all the dearest conventions of the dodos. But I'm
straight as a string, Phil, and there isn't a man or woman
in the Cedarcroft or out that can deny it."
Gallatin smiled.
" It wouldn't be healthy for anybody to deny it."
" I don't care much whether they deny it or not.
People who don't like my creed are welcome to their own.
206
" THE POT AND KETTLE"
I won't bother them and they needn't bother me. But I
do care for my friends and I'm true. You know that,
don't you?"
"Of course."
" And I'm not all hoyden, Phil."
" Who said you were ? "
" Nobody but people think it."
" I don't."
" I was hoping you'd say that. Inside of me I think
I'm quite womanly at times "
He smiled and looked at her curiously.
" But I'm tired of riding through life on a loose
snaffle. I want to settle down and have a place of my
own and and all that."
" I hadn't an idea. Is that what you wanted to tell
me? Who is it, Nina?"
" I'm not in love, you know, Phil," she went on.
" I've watched the married couples in our set those who
made love matches or thought they did, those who mar-
ried for money or convenience, and those who well who
just married. There's not a great deal of difference in the
result. One kind of marriage is just about as successful
or as unsuccessful as another. It's time I married and
I've tried to think the thing out in my own way. I've
about decided that the successful marriage is entirely a
matter of good management a thing to be carefully
planned from the very beginning."
Gallatin listened with dull ears. The girl beside him
was talking heresies. Happiness wasn't to be built on
such a scientific formula. Love was born in Arcadia. He
knew. And Jane
" You know, Phil," he heard Nina Jaffray saying
again, " I'm in the habit of speaking plainly, you may
net like my frankness, but you can be pretty sure that
207
THE SILENT BATTLE
I mean what I say. I've made up my mind to marry and
I wanted you to know about it so that you could think
it over."
" Me ! Nina ! " Gallatin started forward suddenly
aware of the personal note in her remarks. " You don't
mean that I "
" I thought that you might like to marry me," she
repeated coolly.
" You can't mean it," he gasped. " That you that
j
" I mean nothing else. I'd like to marry you, Phil."
Gallatin laughed.
" Really, Nina, I was almost on the point of taking you
seriously. You and I married! Wouldn't we have a
lark, though? "
" I'm quite serious," she insisted. " I'd like to marry
you, if you haven't any other plans."
" Plans ! " He searched her eyes again. " Why,
Nina, you silly child, you've never even even flirted with
me, at least, not for years."
" That's true. I couldn't somehow. I couldn't flirt
with anybody I cared for."
" Then you do care for me? " he muttered in be-
wilderment.
" Don't mistake me, Phil," she put in. "I care for
you, yes, but I'm not in the least sentimental. I abhor
sentimentality. You're simply the nearest approach I
have found to my idea of masculine completeness. You're
not an ideal person by any means. Your vices are quite
brutal, but they don't terrify me and you're pretty
well endowed with compensating virtues. It's about time
you gathered in your loose reins and took to the turnpike.
I'd like to help you and I think I could."
"THE POT AND KETTLE"
" I I haven't any doubt of it," he stammered.
" Only "
"What?"
" I'm not a marrying man, that's all," he blundered
on, still struggling with incomprehension.
She remained silent a moment.
" You say that, because you believe you oughtn't to
marry, don't you, Phil ? "
" I say it because I'm not going to marry until I
know just where I stand just what I'm worth in a long
game. Single, I haven't hurt anybody but myself, but
I'm not going to let any woman
He stopped suddenly. And then with an abrupt
gesture rose.
" I can't talk of this, Nina," he said quickly. " You
must see it's it's impossible. You're not in love with
me or likely to be :
" Oh, I'm in no hurry. I might learn," she said
calmly.
There was no refuge from her quiet insistence but in
laughter, and so, brutally, he took it.
" Really, Nina, if I hadn't known you all my life, I
could almost believe you serious."
*' Don't laugh ! I am," she said immovably.
And now that it seemed to Gallatin there remained no
doubt that she meant it, he sat down again beside her
and took her hand in his, his face set in serious lines. He
liked Nina, but like many other persons had always
weighed her lightly. Even now he felt sure that, by to-
morrow, she would probably have forgotten the entire
conversation. But the situation was one that required a
complete understanding.
" If I can believe you, you've succeeded in flattering
209
THE SILENT BATTLE
me a great deal, I've always been used to expect amazing
things of you, but I can't say I'm quite prepared for the
extraordinary point of view on married life which you
ask me to share. I've always had another idea of mar-
riage, the same one that you have deep down in your
heart, for without it you wouldn't be a woman. You'll
marry the man you love and no other."
" And if the man I love won't marry me? "
" It will be time to settle that when you meet him."
" I've already met him."
Gallatin searched her eyes for the truth and was
again surprised when he found it in them. Her gaze
fell before his and she turned her head awa} r , as though
the look he had seen in her eyes had shamed her.
" It isn't true, Nina. It can't be "
" Yes," she murmured. " It's quite true. I think I've
pitied you a little, but I'm ouite sure that I I've cared
for you always."
There was a silence and then she heard,
" God knows, I'm sorry."
There was a note of finality in his tone which affected
her strangely. It was not until then that she guessed the
truth.
"You you care for Jane Loring? "
" Yes," he said almost inaudibly. " I do."
He owed her that frankness.
" Thanks," she said quietly. " It's strange I shouldn't
have guessed. I I didn't think you cared for any one.
You never have, you know. And it never entered my head
that you could be really interested in in a girl like Jane.
Even when I learned that you had been together in the
woods, I couldn't believe I don't think I quite believe it
yet. She's hardly your style "
She stopped and he remained silent, his head averted.
210
"THE POT AND KETTLE"
" Funny, isn't it ? " she went on. " Larry Kane wants
to marry me, I want to marry you, and you want to marry
Jane. Now if Jane would only fall in love with Larry ! "
She laughed and drew away from him, for over his
head she saw the figures of Jane Loring and Coleman Van
Duyn who had just entered the kitchen. Jane had glanced
just once in their direction and then had turned aside.
Nina glanced at Phil. He was unconscious of the presence
of the others it almost seemed, unconscious of herself.
All the mischief in her bubbled suddenly to the surface.
tTane Loring at least should see
" I'm sorry, Phil," she murmured. " I think I'll sur-
vive. We can still be friends. I want one favor of you,
though."
He questioned.
" Kiss me, will you, Phil? " she whispered.
And Gallatin did; to turn in a moment and see Jane
Loring's skirts go fluttering past the dining-room door,
through which, grinning broadly over his shoulder, Cole-
man Van Duyn quickly followed her.
211
XVIII
THE ENEMY AND A FRIEND
IT was a moment before Gallatin realized the full*
significance of the incident, but when he turned to
look at Nina, he found her leaning against the wall
convulsed with silent laughter.
" You knew, Nina ? " he said struggling for his self-"
control. "You saw them there?"
" Oh, yes, I saw them," she replied easily. " I couldn't
help it very well."
" You asked me to to kiss you !" he stammered, his
color rising.
" Yes, I did. You never had kissed me before, you
know, Phil."
" You you wanted her to see," he asserted.
" I didn't mind her seeing if that's what you mean."
" You had no right
She held up her hand with a mock gesture of command.
" Don't speak ! You'll say something you'll regret.
It's not often I ask a man to kiss me, and when I do I
expect a display of softer emotions. But anger dismay !
I'm surprised at you. You're really quite too rustic, or
is it rusty? Besides, you know, I've done you the greatest
of favors."
" Favors ! " he exclaimed.
" Precisely. In addition to accepting your er fra-
ternal benediction, I've succeeded in creating a diversion
in the ranks of the dear enemy. Jealousy is the vinegar
of the salad of love, Phil. Jane is quite sure to love
you madly now."
" Come," he said briefly, " let's get out of this."
" You mustn't use that tone to me. It's extremely
annoying."
" You're mischievous," he growled.
"Am I?" with derisive sweetness. "I hadn't meant
to be. Perhaps my infatuation has blinded me. I'm really
very badly in love with you, Phil. And you must see that
it's extremely unpleasant for me to discover that you're in
love with somebody else. You know I can't yield placidly.
I'm not the placid kind. I may be in advance of my
generation, but I'm sure if I had my way I'd abduct you
to-night in the motor and fly to Hoboken."
Gallatin laughed. He couldn't help it. She was too
absurd. And her mocking effrontery made it difficult for
him to remember that a moment ago he had thought her
serious.
" Fortunately, I am capable of moderating my emo-
tions," she went on. " My heart may be beating wildly,
but behold me quietly submissive to your decision. All I
ask is that you won't offer to be a brother to me, Phil.
I really couldn't stand for that."
" Nina, you're the limit."
" I know I am I'm excited. It's the outward and
visible expression of inward and spiritual dissolution.
What would you advise, Paris green or a leap from the
Metropolitan Tower? One exit is plebeian, the other
squashy; or had I better blow out the gas? Will you
see that my headlines are not too sentimental? Not, * She
Died for Love ' ; something like ' Scorned Social Success
Suicides 5 or * Her Last Cropper,' are more in my line.
Sorrowfully alliterative, if you like, but chastely simple.
Aren't you sorry for me, Phil ? "
" Hardly. As the presentment of disappointed affec-
tion you're not a success. Your martyrdom has all the
213
THE SILENT BATTLE
aspects of a frolic at my expense. Don't you think you've
made a fool of me long enough? "
" Yes, I think so. I have made a fool of you, haven't
I? I'm sorry. I didn't intend to until I found that you
had made a fool of me. I wanted company."
Her humor changed as he turned away from her and
she restrained him with a hand on his arm, her eyes seeking
his.
" You're my sort, Phil, not hers," she whispered ear-
nestly. " You're a vagabond a vagrant on life's high-
way, as I am a failure, as I am, only a worse one. You've
tried to stem the tide against you, but you couldn't. What
have you to do with Jane Loring's bourgeois respectabil-
ity? Do you think you'll be immune because of her? Do
you think that she can cleanse you of the blood of your
fathers and make you over on her own prim pattern?
You're run in a different mold. What Jane Loring wants
is a stupid respectable Dodo, an impoverished patriarch
with an exclusive visiting list. Let her buy one in the open
market. The clubs are full of them." She laughed aloud.
" What does Jane Loring know of you? What chance
have you ? "
" I think I've heard enough, Nina," said Gallatin. He
walked to the dining-room and stood, waiting for her to
pass before him. She paused, shrugged her shoulders care-
lessly and, as she passed through the door, she leaned to-
ward him and whispered.
"You'll never marry her, Phil. Do you hear?
Never ! "
Gallatin inclined his head slightly and followed.
The dance was in full swing, and outside in the en-
closed veranda a game of " Pussy Wants a Corner " had
come to an end because Sam Purviance insisted upon stand-
ing in the middle of the floor and reciting tearfully the
THE ENEMY AND A FRIEND
tale of " Old Mother Hubbard and Her Dog." Then they
tried charades which failed because the actors insisted on
disappearing into the wings and couldn't be made to ap-
pear, and because the audience found personal problems
more interesting. A game of " Follow My Leader," led
by Larry Kane upstairs and down, developed such amaz-
ing feats of gymnastics that Nellie Pennington rebelled.
Phil Gallatin followed Jane with his eyes, but she re-
fused even to glance in his direction and he was very un-
happy. There seemed no chance of getting a word with
her, for when at the end of the dance he approached her,
she snubbed him very prettily and went out with Van
Duyn to sit among the palms at the end of the veranda.
Gallatin felt very much like the fool Nina had said he
was and wandered around from group to group joining
half-heartedly in their conversations, his uneasiness ap-
parent to any who chose to perceive. Several times Nina
Jaffray passed him smiling wickedly, and once she stopped
and whispered.
" Hadn't you better go home in my car, Phil? I don't
believe there will be room for you in Jane's."
He laughed with an air of unconcern he was very far
from feeling.
" Thanks, I'm afraid you'd take me to Hoboken."
She went on to the dance and Gallatin watched her
until she disappeared. He was alone in the dining-room.
Through the door by which she had gone came the sound
of the piano and the chatter of gay voices. Through the
other door he could see a jovial group of his familiars
sitting around a table in the center of which was a tall
bottle bearing a familiar label, his Enemy enthroned as
usual in this company. He was like a vessel in the chop
of two tides, one of which would bring him to a safe port
and the other to sea.
215
THE SILENT BATTLE
He looked away, hesitated, then walked hastily to the
Colonial sideboard where he drew a cup of hot coffee and
drank it quickly. Then he followed Nina into the dancing-
room.
He waited impatiently until the dance was finished, and
then, when Jane Loring was left for a moment alone, with
more valor than discretion, went up to her.
" Jane," he whispered, " you've got to give me a mo-
ment alone."
She turned away, but he stood in front of her again.
" It's all a mistake, if you'll let me explain
" Let me pass, please."
" No, not until you promise to listen to me to-night.
I'll go in your machine, and then "
" I'm sorry. There's no room for you, Mr. Gallatin."
" I must see you to-night."
" No not to-night," and in lowered tones, " or any
other night."
" Jane, I "
" Let me pass, please."
The music began again and Percy Endicott at this
moment came up, claiming her for a partner. Before
Gallatin could speak again, Jane was in Endicott's arms,
and laughing gayly, was sweeping around the room to
the measure of a two-step. Gallatin stared at her as
though he had not been able to believe his own ears. He
waited a moment and then slowly walked back toward
the kitchen.
His appearance in the doorway was the signal for a
shout from Egerton Savage who held a glass aloft and
offered his health. His health! He swayed forward
heavily. What did it matter? His blood surged. What
would it matter just once? Just once!
He lunged forward into the chair somebody pushed
216
THE ENEMY AND A FRIEND
toward him, took up the glass of champagne his host
had poured for him, drained it, his eyes closed, and put
it down on the table.
Just once ! It was a beautiful wine sent out for the
occasion from Mr. Savage's own collection in town, and
it raced through Gallatin's veins like quicksilver, tingling
to his very finger ends. He looked up and laughed.
Something had bothered him a moment ago. What was
it? He had forgotten. Life was a riot of color and de-
light and here were his friends his men friends who
were always glad to see a fellow, no matter what. It
was good to have that kind of friends.
Somebody told a story. Gallatin had not heard the
beginning of it, but he realized that he was laughing
uproariously, more loudly than any one else at the table.
The lights swam in a mist of tobacco smoke and the
figures of the men around him were blurred. Egerton
Savage had filled his glass again, and Gallatin was in
the very act of reaching forward to take it when Bibby
Worthington, who sat alongside, rose suddenly as though
to get a match from the holder, and the sleeve of his
laced coat somewhat obtrusively swept Gallatin's glass off
the table to the stone flagging.
" Beg pardon," he said cheerfully. " There's many a
lip 'twixt the nip and the pip. Sorry, Phil."
The crash of glass had startled Gallatin, who looked
up into Worthington's face for a possible meaning of
the incident, for it was the clumsiest accident that could
befall a sober man. But Bibby, his lighted match sus-
pended in mid-air, returned his gaze with one quite calm
and unwavering. Gallatin understood, and a dark flush
rose under his skin. He was about to speak when Bibby
broke in.
" Phil, I'm probably the most awkward person in the
217
THE SILENT BATTLE
world," he said evenly. " The only thing about me that's
ever in the right place is my heart. Understand? "
If Gallatin had thought of replying, the words were
unuttered, for he lowered his head and only muttered a
word or two which could not be heard.
Bibby blew the strands of his tousled wig from his
eyes and carefully brushed the liquor from his sleeve with
his lace handkerchief.
" Sad thing, that," he said gravely, " vintage, too."
" Lucky there's more of it," said Savage, taking up
the bottle. " Hand me one of those glasses on the side
table there, Bibby."
Worthington turned slowly away, looked down at Gal-
latin and a glance passed between the two men. As Bibby
moved off GaUatin took out his case and hastily lit a
cigarette.
" Never mind, Bibby," he found himself saying. " No,
thanks, Egerton, I'm er on the wagon." He lit his
cigarette, rose, opened the door, and looked out into the
winter night, drinking in deep draughts of the keen air.
His evil moment had passed.
" Howling success, this party, Egerton," somebody
was saying. " Listen to those infants on the veranda."
"Hello," cried Bibby. "It's Bobby Shafto, by
George. I'll have to go in and make my bow. Come
along, Phil. They'll be calling for you presently. What
the devil are you anyway? "
Phil Gallatin took his arm and walked out on the
terrace.
" I I'm a d fool, Bibby, pretty poorly masked,"
he muttered heavily.
" You are, my boy. But it takes a wise man to admit
he is a fool. Glad you know it. Awfully glad. Not
sore, are you? "
218
THE ENEMY AND A FRIEND
"No," said Gallatin slowly. "Not in the least."
" Nothing like the crash of glass to awake a fellow.
Feel all right? "
" Yes, I I think so."
" I had a lot of nerve to do a thing like that, Phil,
but you see "
" I'm glad you did. I I won't forget it, Bibby."
The two men clasped hands in the darkness in a new
bond of friendship.
They entered the house from another door and passed
through the closed veranda. Upon the floor of the living
room, in a large circle facing the center, the infants sat,
tailor fashion, singing lustily, and greeted Bobby Shafto'?
appearance with shouts of glee. They made him get
into their midst and dance, which he did with all the grace
of a jackdaw, while Betty Tremaine played the accom-
paniment on the piano.
Bobby Shafto's gone to sea
Silver buckles on his knee
He'll come back and marry me
Darling Bobby Shafto.
" But who is he going to marry ? " maliciously chortled
one of the debutantes, in the ensuing pause.
" You, my angel, if you'll have me? " and leaning over
he quickly kissed her.
There was a laugh at the girl's expense and Bibby
retired in triumph.
One by one the characters were summoned and noisily
greeted: Old King Cole, who was Yates Rowland; Old
Mother Hubbard^ who was Percy Endicott ("Aptly
taken, by Jove!" was Spencer's comment) and Simple
Simon, who was Dirwell De Lancey (and looked the part).
But the hit of the occasion was the dance which followed
219
THE SILENT BATTLE
between Jill and the Infant Bacchus. It was clear that
no nursery music would be suitable here. So Betty Tre-
maine's fingers hurried into the presto of Anitra's Dance
from the " Peer Gynt " music, which caught the require-
ments of the occasion. The dancers were well-matched
and the audience upon the floor, which had at first begun
to clap its hands to the gay lilt, slowly drew back to
give more room, and then' finding itself in danger from
the flying heels dispersed and looked on from adjacent
doorways. The dance was everything and it was noth-
ing redowa, tarantella, cosaque, fandango, and only
ended when the dancers and pianist were exhausted.
The party broke up amidst wild applause and led by
Mrs. Pennington the guests were already on their way
to the dressing-rooms, when Nina Jaffray, still breath-
less from her exertions stepped before Gallatin and whis-
pered amusedly:
" It almost seems as if you might go with me after
all, doesn't it, Phil? " she laughed. " It's too late for a
train and all the machines but mine are crowded "
" You're very kind, but I think I'll walk. It's only
twenty miles."
" Don't be disagreeable, Phil. Larry Kane wanted
to go with me, but I've sent him along with Ogden Spen-
cer just because I wanted to apologize to you."
" Apology ! " he laughed. " Why dweU on that? Be-
sides you're a little too prompt to be quite sincere."
" Haven't you any sense of humor, Phil ? "
" No."
" What a situation ! You kiss me and I apologize for
it! Laugh, Phil, laugh! Mrs. Grundy is shrieking with
idelight. O boy! What a silly thing you look! "
" Good night, Nina."
" No, au revoir," she corrected. " You know, Phil,
220
THE ENEMY AND A FRIEND
you mustn't insult me not publicly, that is. You see
you couldn't force yourself into somebody else's machine,
when I'm going home alone in an empty one. Besides,
it's all arranged with Egerton."
Gallatin smiled and shrugged. " Oh, of course," he
said, " you seem to have me at your mercy."
" I'll be very good though, Phil," she said, moving
toward the stairway, " and if you're afraid of me, I'll ask
Egerton to be chaperon." She laughed at him over her
shoulder, and he had to confess that this Avas the humor
which suited her best.
Gallatin went slowly toward his dressing-room, his
lips compressed, his head bent, a prey to a terrible de-
pression made up of fervid self-condemnation. He had
been on the very verge of that which he most dreaded.
In his heart, too, was a dull resentment at Jane's in-
tolerance an attitude he was forced to admit when he
could think more clearly that he had now amply justified,
not because Jane had been a witness of the incident upon
the kitchen stairway, but because of the other thing.
Slowly he began to realize that to a woman a kiss is a
kiss, whether coolly implanted near the left ear, as his
had been, or upon a more appropriate spot; and the
distinction which, at the time of the occurrence, had been
so clear to his mind, seemed now to be less impressive.
Jane's position was unreasonable, but quite tenable, and
he now discovered that unless he threw Nina's confidences
into the breach, a defense hardly possible under the cir-
cumstances, the matter would be difficult to explain. And
yet the act had been so harmless, his intention so inno-
cent, that, weighed in the balance with his love for Jane,
the incident seemed to him the merest triviality, with
reference to which Jane should not have condemned him
unheard. He heard her laugh as she went down the
221
THE SILENT BATTLE
stairs, and the carelessness of that mirth cut him to the
marrow. What right had she to be gay when she knew
that he must be suffering?
He entered Nina's limousine, very much sobered, with
a wish somewhere hidden in his heart that for this night
at least Nina had been in Jericho. If the lady in the
machine divined his thought she gave not the least sign
of it; for when they had left the Club, some time after
the others, and were on their way to the city, she care-
lessly resumed.
" I didn't ask Egerton to come, Phil. You're not
really alarmed, are you? "
" Not in the least," he smiled. " In fact, I was hoping
we'd be alone."
" Phil, you're improving. Why ? "
" So that we may continue our interesting conversa-
tion at the point where we left off."
"Where did we leave off? Oh, yes, you kissed me,
didn't you? Shall we begin there? "
" I suppose that's what you asked me here for, isn't
it ? " he said brutally.
"Oh, Phil, you don't believe that !"
She deserved this punishment, she knew, but the care-
lessness of his tone shocked her and she moved away into
her corner of the vehicle and sat rigidly as though turned
to stone, her eyes gazing steadily before her at the white
circle of light beyond the formless back of the chauffeur.
In the reflected light Gallatin saw her face and the jest
that was on his lips was silenced before the look he found
there. And when she spoke her voice was low and con-
strained.
" I'm sorry you said that."
" Are you? You weren't sorry earlier in the evening."
" I'm sorry now."
THE ENEMY AND A FRIEND
" It's a little late to be sorry."
She didn't reply. She was looking out into the light
ag"ain with peering eyes. Objects in the landscape
emerged, shadowless, in pale outline, brightened and dis-
appeared.
" It isn't like you not in the least like you," she mur-
mured. " You've rather upset me, Phil."
" What did you expect ? " he asked. " You've made
a fool of me. You've been flirting with me abominably."
" And you repay me "
" In your own coin," he put in.
" Don't, Phil." She covered her face with her hands
a moment. " You've paid me well. Oh, that you could
have said that ! I meant what I said, Phil, back there.
You've got to believe it now you've shamed me so.
You've got to know it to believe it. I wasn't flirting
with you. I was serious with you when I said I I loved
you. It's the truth, the ghastly truth, and you've got
to believe it, whatever happens. No, don't touch me. I
don't want you to think I'm that kind of a girl. I'm not.
I've never been kissed before to-night, believe it or not.
It's true, and now '
She stopped and clutched him by the arm. " Tell me
you believe it, Phil," she said almost fiercely, " that I
that I'm not that kind of a girl."
" Of course, you've said so "
" No not because I've said so, but because you think
enough of me to believe it whether I've said so or not."
" I had never thought you that sort of a girl," he
said slowly. "I've known you to flirt with other fellows,
but I didn't think you really cared enough about men
to bother, least of all about me. That's why I was a
little surprised "
" I couldn't flirt with you I didn't feel that way.
THE SILENT BATTLE
I don't know why. I think because there was a dignity
in our friendship " she stopped again with a sharp sigh.
"Oh, what's the use? I'm not like other girls that's
all. I can't make you understand."
" I hope I understand "
" I'm sorry, Phil, about what happened to-night."
She stopped, leaned back in her corner and, with one
of her curious transitions, began laughing softly.
" It was such a wonderful opportunity and you were
so blissfully ignorant! Oh, Phil, and you did look such
a fool!"
"Oh, did I?"
" I'm sorry. But I'd probably do it again if I might
to-morrow. Jane Loring is so prim, so self-satis-
fied
The motor had been moving more slowly and the man
in front after testing various mechanisms, brought the
machine to a stop and climbed out. They heard him
tinkering here and there and after a moment he opened
the door and announced.
" Sorry, Miss Jaffray, but there's come a leak in the
tank, and we've run out of gasoline."
XIX
LOVE ON CRUTCHES
MRS. PENNINGTON'S philosophy had taught
her that it was better to be surprised than
to be bored, and that even unpleasant sur-
prises were slightly more desirable than no surprises
at all. It was toward the end of January on her
halting journey homeward from Aiken, one morning
in Washington, that she saw in a local journal the
announcement of an engagement between Miss Jane
Loring and Mr. Coleman Van Duyn. To say that she
was surprised puts the matter mildly, and it is doubtful
whether the flight of her ennui compensated her for the
sudden pang of dismay which came with the reading of
this article. She had left New York the day after the
affair at " The Pot and Kettle," and so had only the
memory of Jane's confidences and Phil Gallatin's happy
face to controvert the news.
And when some days later she arrived in New York,
she found that, though unconfirmed in authoritative quar-
ters, the rumors still persisted among her own friends and
Jane's. Of Phil Gallatin she saw nothing and learned that
he was out of town on an important legal matter and
would not return for a week. When she called on the
Lorings, Jane showed a disposition to avoid personal
topics and at the mention of Philip Gallatin's name skill-
fully turned the conversation into other channels.
To a woman of Mrs. Pennington's experience the hint
was enough and she departed from the Loring mausoleum
aware that something serious had happened which threat-
225
THE SILENT BATTLE
ened Phil Gallatin's happiness. But, in spite of the
warmth of Jane's greeting and the careless way in which
she had discussed the gossip of the hour, Nellie Penning-
ton was not deceived, and by the time she was in her own
brougham had made one of those rapid deductions for
which she was famous. Jane looked jaded. Therefore,
she was unhappy; therefore, she still loved Phil Gallatin.
Phil Gallatin was working hard. Therefore, Phil was
keeping straight; there must be some other cause for
Jane's defection. What? Obviously a woman. Who?
Nina Jaffray.
Having reached this triumphant conclusion, Mrs.
Pennington set about proving her several premises with-
out the waste of a single moment of time. To this end
she sought out Percy Endicott, who as she knew was bet-
ter informed upon most people's affairs than they were
themselves, and from him learned the truth. Philip Gal-
latin had been discovered with Nina Jaffray in his arms
on the kitchen stairs at the " Pot and Kettle." Percy
Endicott's talent for the ornamentation of bare narrative
was well known and before he had finished the story he
had convinced himself, if not his listener, that this happy
event had brought to a culmination a romance of many
years' standing and that Nina and Phil would soon be
directing their steps, with all speed, to church.
Mrs. Pennington laughed, not because what Percy told
amused her, but because this narrative showed her that
however much she was still lacking in reliable details, her
earliest deductions had been correct. She would not be-
lieve the story until it had been confirmed by " Bibby "
Worthington to whom Coleman Van Duyn had related it
as an eye-witness, and then herself supplied the grain of
salt to make it palatable.
The grain of salt was her knowledge of Nina Jaffray's
226
LOVE ON CRUTCHES
extraordinary personality, which must account for any
(differences she discovered between the Phil Gallatin who
kissed upon the back stairs and the Phil Gallatin with
whom she was familiar. Whatever his deficiencies in
other respects, he had never been considered as available
timber by the gay young married women of Mrs. Pen-
nington's own set who had given him up in the susceptive
sense as a hopeless case; and if Phil had been addicted
to the habit of promiscuous kissing, he had gone about
the pursuit with a stealth which belied the record of his
unsentimental but somewhat tempestuous history. She
found herself wondering not so much about what had hap-
pened to Phil as about how Nina had managed what had
happened. Nina's remarkable confession a few days be-
fore Egerton Savage's party recurred to her mind, and
Nina's clearly expressed intention to bring Phil to her
chariot-wheel seemed somehow to have an intimate bear-
ing upon the present situation. And yet, even admitting
Nina's direct methods of seeking results, she could not
understand how a fellow as much in love with another
girl as Phil was could have been made so ready a victim.
Could it be? No. There was no talk of that. And if
Phil had again been in trouble, Mrs. Pennington knew
that the indefatigable Percy would have told her of it.
She thought about the matter awhile and finally gave
it up, uncertain whether to be anxious or only amused.
But as the week went by she was given tangible evidence
that whatever feelings Jane Loring cherished in her heart
for Phil Gallatin, the wings of victory, for the present
at least, were perched upon the banneret of Mr. Coleman
Van Duyn. Jane rode, walked, and danced with him, and
within a few short weeks, from a state of ponderous misery
Coleman Van Duyn had revived and now bore the definite
outlines of a well-fed and happy cupid.
227
THE SILENT BATTLE
The rumors of an engagement persisted, and Mrs.
Pennington was not the only person forced against her
judgment or inclination to believe that the old Van
Duyn mansion would once more have a mistress. Dirwell
De Lancey, whose tenderness in Jane's quarter had been
remarked, went into retirement for a brief period, and
only emerged when resignation had conquered surprise.
Colonel Crosby Broadhurst sat in his corner at the
Cosmos and wondered, as other people did, what the devil
Jane Loring could see in Coley. Bibby Worthington
still hovered amiably in Jane's background and would not
be dislodged. He had proposed in due form to Jane and
had been refused, but the cheerful determination of his
bearing and his taste in cravats advised all who chose to
concern themselves that he was still undismayed.
After Mrs. Pennington, who thought that she saw a
light, perhaps the person most surprised at Jane's sudden
attachment for Coleman Van Duyn was Mrs. Loring. She
had listened with incredulity to Jane's first confession of
her relations with Philip Gallatin and had waited with
resignation a resumption of the conversation. But as the
days passed and her daughter said nothing, she thought
it time to take the matter into her own hands and told
Jane of her intention to speak of it to her husband.
" I'll save you the trouble, Mother," said Jane, kiss-
ing her gravely on the forehead. " There is nothing be-
tween Mr. Gallatin and myself."
Mrs. Loring concealed her delight with difficulty.
" Jane, dear, something has happened."
" Nothing nothing at all," said Jane. " I've changed
my mind that's all."
" Oh," said Mrs. Loring. This much imparted, Jane
would say no more ; the matter was dropped, and to Mrs.
228
LOVE ON CRUTCHES
iLoring it seemed that in so far as Jane was concerned,
Mr. Gallatin had simply ceased to exist.
But it was not without some difficulty that Jane con-
vinced herself that this was the case. The day after the
" Pot and Kettle " affair, Phil Gallatin wrote, 'phoned,
wired and called. His note Jane consigned to the fire,
his telephone was answered by Hastings, his wire followed
his note, and to his visit she was out. This, she thought,
should have concluded their relations, but the following
morning brought another letter a long one. She hesi-
tated before deciding whether to open it or to return it,
but at last she broke the seal and read it through, her
lips compressed, her brows tangled angrily. It was a
plea for forgiveness, and that was all. There were many
regrets, many protestations of love, but not one word of
explanation! He had even gone so far as to call the
incident a trifle (a trifle, indeed!) and to call her to
account for an intolerance which he had the temerity to
say was unworthy of the great love that he had given her.
The impudence of him ! What did he mean? Was the
man mad? Or was this the New York idea? She realized
now that he was an animal that she had met in an un-
familiar habitat, and that perhaps the things to be ex-
pected of him here were those dictated by the inconsider-
able ideals of the day. It dismayed her to think that
after all here in New York, she had only known him a
little more than a week. His vision appeared and was
banished, and his letter, torn again and again into small
pieces was consigned to the flames of her open fire. She
made no reply.
Another letter came on the morrow, was read like the
other, but likewise destroyed. His persistence was amaz-
ing. Would he not take a hint and save her the un-
229
pleasant duty of sending his letters back to him unopened?
Apparently not ! And with the letters came baskets of
flowers which, like those from Mr. Van Duyn, filled her
room with pleasant odors.
She was willing to believe now that a word of ex-
planation, a clue to his extraordinary behavior might
have paved the way to reconciliation, and she found her-
self wondering in a material way what was becoming of
him and worrying, in spite of herself, as to his future,
of which, as she had once fondly believed, she was the
guardian. What was he doing with himself in the
evenings ?
This thought sent the blood rushing to her cheeks and
hardened her heart against him. He was with Nina Jaf-
fray, of course. In his last letter he had written that he
must go away on business and for two mornings no letter
arrived. She missed these letters and was furious with
herself that it was so. But the energy of her anger was
conserved in the form of further favors for Coley Van
Duyn who radiated it in rapturous good-will toward all
the world. When the letters were resumed, she locked
them in her desk unread, determining upon his return to
town to make them into a package and send them back
in bulk. Many times she unlocked her desk and scru-
tinized the envelopes, but it was always to thrust them
into their drawer which she shut and locked each time
with quite unnecessary violence.
Another matter which caused some inquietude was
Nellie Pennington's return to town, for Mrs. Pennington
was the only person, besides Mr. Gallatin and her mother,
in actual possession of her secret, the only person besides
Mr. Gallatin whom it was necessary to convince as to
the definiteness of her recantation. At their first meet-
ing Jane had carried off the situation with a carelessness
230
LOVE ON CRUTCHES
which she felt had rather overshot the mark. Her vis-
itor had accepted the hints with a disconcerting readiness
and composure, and Jane had a feeling after Mrs. Pen-
nington left the house that her efforts had been singu-
larly ineffective; for she was conscious that her visitor
had scrutinized her keenly and that anything she had said
had been carefully sifted, weighed and subjected to that
kind of cunning alchemy which clever women use to trans-
mute the baser metals of sophistry into gold.
Mrs. Pennington had now taken an initiative in the
friendship and refused to be disconcerted. Jane's engage-
ments with Coleman Van Duyn provided no effectual
hindrance to Mrs. Pennington's enthusiastic fellowship,
and she frequently helped to make a party in which, to
Mr. Van Duyn at least, three was a crowd. Mrs. Pen-
nington accepted his presence without surprise, without
annoyance or other emotion; and somehow succeeded in
conveying the impression that she was conferring a favor,
upon them both, a favor for which, in her own heart at
least, Jane was grateful.
It was not surprising to Jane, therefore, when one
morning Nellie Pennington called up on the 'phone and
made an engagement for the afternoon at five, at the
Loring house, urging a need of Jane's advice upon an im-
portant matter. She entered the library, where Jane had
been reading, with a radiance which did much to dispel the
gloom of the day which had been execrable; and when her
hostess suggested that they go upstairs to her own dress-
ing-room, where they might be undisturbed, Nellie Pen-
nington threw off her furs.
" No, thanks, darling," she said. " I can't stay long.
And you know when one reaches my mature years, each
stair has a separate menace."
" There's the lift," Jane laughed.
231
THE SILENT BATTLE
" Oh, never ! That would be a public confession. I'll
stay here if you don't mind," and she sank into an arm-
chair by the fire.
" Coley isn't coming? " she inquired.
" No," said Jane. " I had a headache."
Nellie Pennington sighed gratefully.
" You know, Jane, Coley is a nice fellow, but he's just
about as plastic as the Pyramid of Cheops. You've done
wonders with him, of course, and he is really quite bear- 1
able now, but it must have been wearing, wasn't it? "
" Oh, no," Jane smiled. " He's quite obedient."
" I sometimes wonder whether men are worth the pains
we women waste on them." Mrs. Pennington went on
reflectively. " When we are single they adore us for our
defects ; married, we have a real difficulty in making them
love us for our virtues. But love abhors the word obe-
dience. It knows no arbitrary laws. An obedient husband
is like an egg without salt and far more indigestible.
You're not going to marry Coley, are you, Jane? " she
finished abruptly.
Jane paled and her head tilted the fraction of an inch.
It was the first time Nellie Pennington had approached
the subject so directly, and Jane had not decided whether
to silence her questioner at once or to laugh her off when
she broke in again.
" Oh, don't reply if you don't want to. I'm sure noth-
ing I could say would have the slightest influence on your
decision. It doesn't matter in the least whom one marries
anyway, because whatever the lover is, the husband is
always sure to be something quite different. If Coley is
obedient now, married he'll be a Tartar."
" I I didn't say I was going to marry Mr. Van
Duyn."
" You didn't say you weren't."
232
LOVE ON CRUTCHES
" Why should I ? Must a girl marry, because she
receives the attentions "
" Exclusive attentions," put in Mrs. Pennington quick-
ly. " Jane, you're rather overdoing it," she finished
frankly.
" I like Mr. Van Duyn very much," said Jane, her
head lowered.
" But you don't love him. Oh, Jane," she whispered
earnestly, " play the scene in your own way if you like,
but don't try to hide the real drama from me."
" There is no drama," put in Jane. " It was a
farce "
" It's a drama in Phil Gallatin's heart. Can you be
blind to his struggle? "
" I care nothing for Mr. Gallatin's struggles," said
Jane, her head high.
" You do. Love like yours comes only once in a
woman's eyes. I saw it "
" You're mistaken."
" No. And it isn't quenched with laughter "
" Don't, Nellie."
" I must. You're trying to kill something in you that
will not die."
" It's dead now."
" No nor even sleeping. Don't you suppose I read
you, silly child, your false gayety, the mockery of your
smiles, and the way you've thrown Coley Van Duyn into
the breach to soothe your pride even let an engagement
be undenied so that Phil could think how little you cared?
You once let me behind the scenes; no matter how much
you regret it, I'm still there."
" Mr. Gallatin is nothing to me."
Mrs. Pennington leaned back in her chair and smiled.
" You told me that your faith in Phil was unending.
233
THE SILENT BATTLE
Your eternity, my dear, lasted precisely one week."
Jane flashed around at her passionately, aroused at
last, as Nellie Pennington intended that she should be.
" Oh, why couldn't he have explained ? "
"Explain! At the expense of another girl? Phil is
a gentleman."
Mrs. Pennington had had that reply ready. She had
considered it carefully for some days.
Jane paused, and her eyes, scarcely credulous, sought
the face of her visitor. Nellie Pennington met her look
eagerly.
" Nina Jaffray's," she went on. " Could Phil tell why
it happened? Obviously not."
" But he kissed her "
Mrs. Pennington shrugged her pretty shoulders.
" As to that, Nina, of course, had reasons of her
own."
" Nina Miss Jaffray reasons ? "
" She probably asked him to "
" Impossible ! "
" She did."
"Do you know that?"
" No, but I know Nina."
" I can't see that that alters anything."
" But it does amazingly if you'll only think
I about it."
" I saw it all."
"Oh! Did you? I'm glad."
"Glad! Oh, Nellie!"
" Of course. Think how much worse it might have
seemed if you hadn't."
" I don't understand."
" If some one else had told you, you might have be-
lieved anything."
234
LOVE ON CRUTCHES
" I saw enough to believe "
"What did you see?"
" He he he just kissed her."
" Oh, Jane, think ! What did you see ? Why should
Phil kiss a girl he doesn't love? Aren't there any kisses
in the world but lovers' kisses ? Think. You must. Phil's
whole life and yours depend upon it."
Jane rose and walked quickly to the window.
" This conversation is impossible."
Nellie Pennington watched her narrowly. She had
created a diversion upon the flank, which, if it did nothing 1
else, had temporarily driven Jane's forces back in con-
fusion. She looked anxiously toward the door of the
drawing-room and then smiled, for a figure had entered
and was coming forward without hesitation.
With one eye on Jane, who was still looking out of
the window, Nellie Pennington rose and greeted the new-
comer.
" Hello, Phil. I had almost given you up. You don't
mind, do you, Jane. I had to see Mr. Gallatin and asked
if he wouldn't stop for me here."
At the sound of his name Jane had twisted around
and now faced them, breathless. Mrs. Pennington was
smiling carelessly, but Phil Gallatin, hat in hand, stood
with bowed head before her. At the door into the hall-
way, the butler, somewhat uncertainly, hovered.
" Thank you, Hastings," Jane summoned her tongue
to say. " That will be all."
235
XX
THE INTRUDER
AND when the man had gone her voice came back to
her with surprising clearness.
" You were going, I think you said, Nellie,
dear. So sorry. If you'll excuse me I think I'll hurry
upstairs. I'm dining out and
" Jane ! " Gallatin's voice broke in. " Don't go. Give
me a chance just half an hour ten minutes. I won't
take more than that and then "
" I'm sorry, but "
" You wouldn't see me or reply to my letters, and so
I had to choose some other way. Give me a moment," he
pleaded. " You can't refuse me that."
" I don't see how anything that you say can make
the slightest difference in anything, Mr. Gallatin," she
said haltingly. " We both seem to have been mistaken.
It's very much better to avoid a a discussion which is
sure to to be painful to us both."
" What do you know of pain," he whispered, " if you
can't know the pain of absence? Nothing that you can
say will hurt more than that, the pain of being ignored
forgotten for another. I have stood it as long as I can,
but you needn't be afraid to tell me the truth. If you
say that you love that you're going to marry Van Duyn,
I'll go but not until then."
" Mrs. Pennington is waiting for you, I think," she
gasped. But when she turned and looked into the draw-
ing-room Mrs. Pennington was nowhere to be seen.
236
THE INTRUDER
" No," he went on quickly. " She has gone. I asked
her to. Oh, Jane, listen to me. I made a mistake under
the impulse of a foolish moment. I've been a fool but
I'm not ashamed of my folly. Perhaps it shocks you to
hear me say that. But I'm not ashamed my conscience
is clear. Do you think I could look you in the eyes if
there was any other image between us? Call me thought-
less, if you like, careless, inconsiderate of conventions, in-
considerate even of you, but don't insult yourself by
imputing motives that never existed that never could
exist while you were in my thoughts. Oh, Jane, can't you
understand? You're the life the bone the breath of
me. I have no thought that does not come from you, no
wish no hope that you're not a part of. What has Nina
Jaffray to do with you and me? If I kissed her it was be-
cause because " He stopped and could not go on.
" That is precisely what I want to know," she said
coolly.
" I I can't tell you."
" No," she said dryly. " I thought not. Miss Jaf-
fray has every reason to be flattered at your attitude. I
can only be thankful that you at least possess the virtue
of silence that you really are man enough to preserve
the confidence of the women of your acquaintance. Other-
wise, I myself might fare badly."
" Stop, Jane ! " he cried, coming forward and seizing
her by the elbows. " It's sacrilege. Look up into my
eyes. You dare not, because you know that I speak the
truth, because you know that you'll discover in them a
token of love unending the same look that you've always
found there, because when you see it you will recognize
it as a force too great to conquer too mighty to be
argued away for the sake of a whim of your injured pride.
Look up at me, Jane."
237
THE SILENT BATTLE
He had his arms around her now; but she struggled
in them, her head still turned away.
" Let me go, Mr. Gallatin," she gasped. " It can
never be. You have hurt me mortally."
" No. I'll never let you go, until you look up in my
eyes and tell me you believe in me."
" It's unmanly of you," she cried, still struggling.
" Let me go, please, at once."
Neither of them had heard the opening and closing
of the front door, nor seen the figure which now blocked
the doorway into the hall, but at the deep tones which
greeted them, they straightened and faced Mr. Loring.
" I beg your pardon, Jane," he was saying with ironi-
cal amusement. " I chose the wrong moment it seems,"
and then in harsher accents as Gallatin walked toward
him. " You ! Jane, what does this mean ? "
Miss Loring had reached the end of the Davenport
where she stood leaning with one hand on its arm, a little
frightened at the expression in her father's face, but more
perturbed and shaken by the fluttering of her own heart
which told her how nearly Phil Gallatin had convinced her
against her will that there was nothing in all the world
that mattered except his love and hers.
Her father's sudden appearance had startled her, too,
for though no words had passed between father and daugh-
ter, she knew that her mother had already repeated the
tale of her romance and of its sudden termination. She
tried to speak in reply to Mr. Loring's question, but no
words would come and after a silence burdened with mean-
ing she heard Phil Gallatin speaking.
" It means, Mr. Loring," he was saying steadily, " that
I love your daughter that I hope, some day, to ask her to
be my wife."
Loring came into the room, his eyes contracted, his
238
THE INTRUDER
bull neck thrust forward, his face suffused with blood.
'* You want to marry my daughter? You! I think
you're mistaken." He stopped and peered at one and
then the other. " I've heard something about you, Mr.
Gallatin," he said more calmly. " Your ways seem to be
crossing mine more frequently than I like."
" I hardly understand you," said Gallatin clearly.
" I'll try to make my meaning plain. We needn't
discuss at once the relations between you and my daugh-
ter. Whatever they've been or are now, they're less im-
portant than other matters."
" Other matters ! " Gallatin exclaimed. Jane had
straightened and came forward, aware of some new ele-
ment in her father's antipathy. Loring glanced at her
and went on.
" For some weeks past I've been aware of the activity
of certain interests that you or your pettifogging little
firm represent in regard to the plans of the Pequot Coal
Company. I've followed your movements with some
curiosity and read the letters you've written to the New
York office with not a little amazement."
" You have read them? "
" Yes, I. / am the Pequot Coal Company, Mr. Gal-
latin."
Gallatin drew back a step and glanced at Jane.
" I was not aware " he began.
" No, I guess not. But it's about time you were,"
Loring chuckled. He walked the length of the room and
back, his hands behind him, passing Jane as though he
was unaware of her existence, his huge bulk towering
before Gallatin again.
" You are trying to stop the sale of the Sanborn
mines," he sneered. " You're meddling, sir. We tested
that matter in the courts. The court records "
THE SILENT BATTLE
" Your courts, Mr. Loring," put in Gallatin, now
thoroughly aroused. " I'm familiar with the evidence in
the case you speak of."
" My courts ! " Loring roared. " The Supreme Court
of the State ! We needn't discuss their decisions here."
" No, but we will discuss them elsewhere," he said
soberly. He stopped and, with a quick change of voice.
" Mr. Loring, you'll pardon me if I refuse to speak of this
further. I'm sorry to learn that
" I'm not through yet," Loring broke in savagely,
with a glance at Jane. " We've known for some time that
the Sanborn case was in the hands of Kenyon, Hood and
Gallatin, and we've been at some pains to keep ourselves
informed as to any action that would be taken by your
clients. We know something about you, too, Mr. Gallatin,
and we have followed your recent investigations with some
interest and not a little amusement. If we ever had any
fear of a possible perversion of justice in this case,
through your efforts, I may say that it has been entirely
removed by our knowledge of your methods and of the
personal facts of your career."
" Father ! " Jane's fingers were on his arm, and her
whisper was at his ear, but he raised a hand to silence
her, putting her aside.
" You're aligning yourself with a discredited cause,
sir. Your case is a bubble which I promise to prick at
the opportune moment. The tone of your letters request-
ing an interview with a view to reopening the case is im-
pertinent. The compromise suggested is blackmail and
will be treated as such."
Gallatin flushed darkly and then turned white at the
insult.
" Mr. Loring, I'll ask you to choose your words more
carefully," he said angrily, his jaw set.
240
Father I ' . . . Jane's whisper was at his ear.
THE INTRUDER
" I'm not in the habit of mincing words, and I'll hardly
spare you or the people who employ you for the sake of
a foolish whim of a girl, even though she is "
" You must not, Father," whispered Jane again, in
tones of anguish. " You're in your own house. You're
[violating all the "
" Be quiet," he commanded shortly, " or leave the
i-oom."
" I can't be quiet. Mr. Gallatin for the present is
iny guest and as such
" Whatever Mr. Gallatin's presence here means,
there's little doubt "
" I I asked him to come here," Jane stammered. " I
beg you to leave us."
" No ! If Mr. Gallatin has come here at your invita-
tion, all the more reason that you, too, should hear what
I have to say to him."
" I will not listen. Will you please go, Mr. Gallatin,
at once? "
Phil Gallatin, pale but composed, was standing im-
movable.
" Thank you. If there's something else your father
has to say, I'll listen to it now," he said. " I can only
hope that it will be nothing that he will regret."
Jane drew aside and threw herself on the divan, her
i head buried in her hands.
" There's hardly a danger of that," said Loring grim-
ly. " I'll take the risk anyway. I'm in the habit of keep-
ing my house in order, Mr. Gallatin, and I'm not the kind
to stop doing it just because a duty is unpleasant. There
seems to be something between you and my daughter. God
knows what ! I have known it for some days, but I haven't
spoken of it to her or hunted for you because I had reason
to believe that she had had the good sense to forget the
THE SILENT BATTLE
silly romantic ideas you had been putting into her head.
I see that I was mistaken. Your presence in this house
is the proof of it. I'll try to make my objections
known in language that not only you but my daughter
will understand."
With a struggle Gallatin regained his composure,
folded his arms and waited. Jane raised her head, her
eyes pleading, then quietly rose and walking across the
room, laid her fingers on Phil Gallatin's arm and stood by
his side, facing her father. Mr. Loring began speaking,
but she interrupted him quickly.
" Whatever you say to Philip Gallatin, Father, you
will say to me. Whatever you know of him I know, too,
past or present. I love him," she finished solemnly.
One of Gallatin's arms went around her and his lips
whispered, " Thank God for that, Jane." And then to-
gether they faced the older man. Mr. Loring flinched and
some of the purple went out of his face, but his lower lip
protruded and his bulk seemed to grow more compact
as the meaning of the situation grew upon him. His small
eyes blinked two or three times and then glowed into in-
candescence.
" Oh, I see," he muttered. " It's as bad as that, is
it? I hadn't supposed "
" Wait a moment, sir," said Gallatin clearly. " Call
it bad, if you like, but you haven't a right to condemn me
without a hearing."
Loring laughed. " A hearing? I know enough al-
ready, Mr. Gallatin."
Gallatin took a step forward speaking quietly.
" You're making a mistake. Whatever you've heard about
me, I've at least got the right of any man to defend him-
self. You've already chosen to insult me in your own
house. I've passed that by, because this is not the time
THE INTRUDER
or place to answer. Kenyon, Hood and Gallatin are not
easily intimidated nor am I. I want you to understand
that here now." His voice fell a note. " When I speak
of myself it is a different matter. I don't know what
you've heard about me, and I don't much care, for in
respect to one thing at least I'll offer no excuse or ex-
tenuation. That's past and I'm living in the hope that
as time goes on, it will not be borne too heavily against
me. But you've got to believe whether you want to or not
that I would rather die than have your daughter suffer
because of me."
" She has suffered already."
" No, no ! " cried Jane. " Not suffered only lived,
father."
" And now you've quit, I suppose," said the old man
ironically, " reformed turned over a new leaf. See here,
Mr. Gallatin, this thing has gone far enough. I've lis-
tened to you with some patience. Now you listen to me!
You've come into my house unbidden, invaded my privacy
here and insinuated yourself again into the good graces
of my daughter, who, I had good reason to believe, had
already forgotten you. Your training has served you
well. Fortunately I'm not so easily deceived. Until the
present moment I have trusted my daughter's good judg-
ment. Now I find I must use my own. If she isn't de-
terred by a knowledge of your history, perhaps I can
supply her with information which will not fail. I can
hardly conceive that she will overlook your conduct when
it involves the reputation of another woman ! "
" Father ! "
Henry Loring had reached the drawing-room door and
now stood, his legs apart, his fists clenched, his words
snapping like the receiver of a wireless station.
" Deny if you like ! It will have no conviction with
243
THE SILENT BATTLE
me or with her. Look at her, Mr. Gallatin," he said,
his finger pointing. " There are limits even to her credu- 1
lity. She will hardly be pleased to learn of the accident
to the motor which obliged you and your companion *
very opportunely, indeed, to spend the night in a
" Stop, sir ! " Gallatin's hand was extended and his
voice dominated. " Say what you like about me. I've
invited that, but I'll not listen while you rob a woman of
her name."
Jane stood like an ivory figure in the pale light, her;
eyes dark with incomprehension, searching Gallatin's face
for the truth.
"There was a woman?" she asked.
Gallatin hesitated.
" Yes, there was a woman. There needn't be any
mystery about that. I wasn't aware that there had been
any mystery. It was Nina Jaffray. We were stranded
back in the country coming from the * Pot and Kettle.*
We found a farmhouse and stayed there. There wasn't
anything else to do. You can't mean that you be-^
lieve !"
Jane had turned from him and walked toward the
door.
" It hadn't been my intention to mention the lady's
name," Loring laughed. " But since Mr. Gallatin has seen
fit to do so "
" You're going too far, Mr. Loring. There are ways '
of reaching a man even of your standing in the com-
munity."
Loring chuckled.
" I fancy that this is a matter which won't be dis-
cussed elsewhere," he said.
Gallatin's eyes sought Jane's, who now stood in the
THE INTRUDER
cloorway into the hall, one hand clutching the silken
hangings.
" You can't believe this, Jane? You have no right to.
Your father has been told a sinful lie. It's doing Nina a
harm a dreadful harm. Can't you see? "
I At the mention of Nina's name Jane's lips twisted
scornfully and with a look of contempt she turned and
was gone.
Gallatin took a few steps forward as though he would
have followed her, but Loring's bulky figure interposed.
" We've had enough of this, sir," he growled. " Let's
have this scene over. We're done with you. You've
played h with your own life and you'll go on doing
it, but you won't play it with me or with any of mine,
by G . I've got your measure, Mr. Gallatin, and if I
find you interfering here again, I'll take some other means
that will be less pleasant. D'ye hear? I've heard the
story they're telling about you and my daughter up in
the woods. It makes fine chatter for your magpies up
and down the Avenue. D them! Thank God, my
daughter is too clean for them or you to hurt. It was
a great chance for you. You knew what you were about.
You haven't lived in New York all these years for noth-
ing. You thought you could carry things through on
your family name, but to make the matter sure you tried
to compromise my daughter so that "
Loring paused.
Gallatin had stood with head bowed before the door
through which Jane had disappeared. His ears were deaf
to Loring's tirade; but as he realized the terms of the
indictment, he raised his head, stepped suddenly forward,
his fists clenched, his eyes blazing into those of the older
man, scarcely a foot away. In Phil Gallatin's expression
245
THE SILENT BATTLE
was the dumb fury of an animal at bay, a wild light
in his eyes that was a personal menace. Loring did not
know fear, but there was something in the look of this
young man who faced him which told him he had gone too
far. Gallatin's right arm moved upward, and then
dropped at his side again.
" You you've said enough, Mr. Loring," he gasped,
struggling for his breath. " Almost more than is good
for both for either of us. You you you're mis-
taken, sir."
And then as though ashamed of his lack of control
he turned aside, and took up his hat. Henry Loring
strode to the wall and pressed his thumb to a bell.
" I'll stand by my mistakes," he said more calmly*
" You came to the wrong house, Mr. Gallatin, and I think
you won't forget it. I'd like you to remember this, too,
and I'm a man of my word. You keep your fingers off my
affairs, either business or personal, or I'll make New York
too hot to hold you," and then as the man appeared,
" Hastings, show this gentleman out ! "
246
XXI
TEMPTATION
PHILIP GALLATIN had a bad night. From the
Loring house he trudged forth into the rain and
sleet of the Park where he walked until his anger
had cooled; then dined alone in a corner at the Cosmos,
avoiding a group of his familiars who were attuned to
gayety. From there he went directly to his rooms.
The house of his fathers was in a by-street in the
center of the fashionable shopping district, and this dwell-
ing, an old-fashioned double house of brown stone, was
the only relic that remained to Phil of the former grandeur
of the Gallatins. Great lawyers, however successful in
safeguarding the interests of their clients, are notable
failures in safeguarding the interests of their own. Philip
Gallatin, the elder, had inherited a substantial fortune,
but had added nothing to it. He had lived like a prince
and was known as the most lavish host of his day. He
consorted with the big men of his generation when the
Gallatin house was famous alike for its cellar and kitchen.
Here were entertained presidents and ex-presidents of the
United States, foreign princes, distinguished artists and
literary men, and here it was claimed, over Philip Galla-
tin's priceless Madeira, the way had been paved for an
important treaty with the Russian government.
Philip Gallatin, the second, had made money easily
and spent it more easily, to the end that at the time of his
death it was discovered that the home was heavily mort-
gaged, and that his holdings in great industrial corpora-
247
tions, many of which he had helped to organize, had been
disposed of, leaving an income which, while ample for Mrs.
Gallatin and her only child during the years of his boy-
hood, when the taste of society was for quieter things, was
entirely inadequate to the growing requirements of the
day. At his mother's death, just after he came of age,
Phil Gallatin had found himself possessed of less than
eight thousand a year gross, and a mortgage which called
for almost one-half that sum. But he resolutely refused
to part with the house, for it had memories and associa-
tions dear to him.
Three years ago, with a pang which he still remem-
bered, he had decided to rent out the basement and lower
floors for business purposes and apply the income thus
received to taxes and sinking fund, but he still kept the
rooms on the third floor \\hich he had always occupied,
as his own. An old servant named Barker, one of the
family retainers, was in attendance. Barker had watched
the tide of commerce flow in and at last engulf the street
which in his mind would always be associated with the
family which he had served so long. But he would not
go, so Philip Gallatin found a place for him. In the
building he was janitor, engineer, rent collector, and
valet. He cooked Phil's breakfast of eggs and coffee and
brought it up to him, made his bed and kept his rooms
with the same scrupulous care that he had exercised in
the heydey of prosperity. He was Phil's doctor, nurse
and factotum, and kept the doors of Gallatin's apartments
against all invaders.
Phil Gallatin wearily climbed the two long flights
which led to the rooms. He had had a trying day. All
the morning had been spent with John Sanborn, and a
plan had been worked out based upon the labors of the
past three weeks. One important decision had been
248
TEMPTATION
reached, and a concession wrung at last from his clients.
He had worked at high tension since the case had been,
put into his hands, traveling, eating when and where he
could, working late at the ofSce, sleeping little, and in.
spare moments had written to or thought of Jane. The
strain of his anxiety was now beginning to tell. The
events of the afternoon had filled him with a new sense of
the difficulties of his undertakings. Loring would fight to
the last ditch. All the more glory in driving him there!
But of Jane he thought with less assurance. His own
mind had been so innocent of transgression, his own heart
so filled with the thought of her, that her willingness to
believe evil of him and of Nina had caused a singular
revulsion of feeling which was playing havoc with his senti-
ments. It had not mattered so much when Jane's indict-
ment had been for him alone; that, he had deserved and
had been willing to stand trial for ; but with Nina's repu-
tation at stake Jane's intolerance took a different aspect.
Whatever Nina Jaffray's faults, and they were many, Phil
Gallatin knew, as every one else in the Cedarcroft crowd
did, that they were the superficial ones of the day and
generation and that Nina's pleasure was in the creation of
smoke rather than flame.
The failure of the motor after the " Pot and Kettle "
party had been unfortunate, and the lack of oil subse-
quently explained by the drunkenness of the chauffeur who
had been discharged on Miss Jaffray's return to town.
Phil Gallatin had found a farmhouse, where Nina had been
made comfortable. There was no gasoline within five
miles of the place. The chauffeur was unable to cope with
the situation and there was nothing for it but to wait until
morning, when the farmer himself drove Gallatin to the
nearest village for the needed fuel.
Under other circumstances it might have been an
249
THE SILENT BATTLE
amusing experience, but the events of the evening had put
a damper on them both. Nina's impudence was smothered
in her fur collar, and she had sat sulkily through the
hours of darkness, gazing at the stove, saying not a word,
and the delinquent chauffeur had meanwhile gone to sleep
on the floor of the kitchen. Morning saw them safe in
town at an early hour, and it had been at Nina's request
that the incident had not been mentioned. Until to-day
Gallatin had not given it a thought. He had not seen
Nina, and while he had frequently thought of her, the
flight of time and the press of affairs had given her singu-
lar confession a perspective that took something from its
importance. But Jane's attitude had suddenly made Nina
the dominant figure in the situation. Whatever mischief
she had created in his own affairs, she had not deserved
this!
He entered his rooms filled with bitterness toward
Henry Loring, dull resentment toward Jane. Everything
in the world that he hoped for had centered about her
image, and he loved her for what she had been to him,
what she had made of him and for what he had made of
himself, but in his mind a definite conviction had grown,
that in so far as he was concerned their relations were
now at an end. He had abased himself enough and further
efforts at a reconciliation could only demean his dignity,
already jeopardized, and his pride, already mortally
wounded.
He threw himself heavily into his Morris chair and
tried to think about other things. Upon the table there
was a legal volume which he had brought up from the
office the night before, filled with slips of paper for the
reference pages which Tooker had placed there for him.
He took it up and began to read, but his mind wandered.
,The type swam before his eyes and in its place Jane's
250
TEMPTATION
face appeared, ivory-colored as he had last seen it, and
her eyes dark with pain and incomprehension looked scorn-
fully out of the page. He closed the book and gazed
around the room, into the dusty corners, with their me-
mentos of his career: the oar that had been his when he
had stroked the crew of his university, boxing gloves, foils
and mask, photographs of football teams in which he had
been interested, a small cabinet of cups golf and steeple-
chase prizes, a policeman's helmet, the spoils of a college
prank, his personal library (his father's was in a storage
warehouse), trinkets of all sorts, steins innumerable, a tiny
satin slipper, some ivories and a small gold flask.
He got out of his chair, picked the flask up, and
examined it as if it had been something he had never seen
before. He ran his fingers over the chasing of the cup,
noted the dents that had been made when it had fallen
among the rocks, and the dark scar made in the embers of
their fire.
Their fire ! His fire and Jane's burned out to ashes.
He put the flask back in its place and began slowly to
pace the floor, his hands behind his back, his head bent
forward, his eyes peering somberly. He stopped in his
walk and put a lump of coal into the grate. He was dead
tired and his muscles ached as though with a cold. In the
next room his bed invited him, but he did not undress,
for he knew that if he went to bed it would only be to lie
and gaze at the gray patch of light where the window was.
He had done that before and the memory of the dull ache
in his body during the long night when he had suffered
came to him and overpowered him. He had that pain
now coming slowly, as it had sometimes done before when
he had been working on his nerve. It didn't grip him as
once it had done, with its clutch of fire, driving everything
else from his thoughts. But he was conscious that the
251
THE SILENT BATTLE
craving was still there, and he knew that the thing he
wanted was the panacea for the thoughts that oppressed
him. By its means all the aches of his body would be
cured and the pain of his thoughts. Yes ! He stopped at
the table and took up a cigarette. But there was one
thing in him, one thing more important than physical
pain, than physical exhaustion or singing nerves, one
small celestial spark that he had kindled, fostered, and
tended which had warmed and comforted his entire being
the glow of his returning self-respect; and this thing
he knew, if those physical pangs were cured, would die.
He took up his measured tread of the floor, counting
his footsteps from window to door and back again, watch-
ing the patterns in the rug and picking out the figures
upon which he was to put his feet. Once or twice his foot-
steps led him as though unconsciously to the cabinet in the
corner, where he stopped with a short laugh. He had for-
gotten that there was no panacea there. Later on he
rang the bell for Barker, only to remember that the man
had gone away for the night. He wanted some one to
talk to some one any one who could make him forget.
What was the use? What did it matter to any one but
himself if he forgot or not? What was he fighting for?
For himself? Yesterday and the days before he had been
fighting for Jane, fighting gladly downtown, in his
clubs, at people's houses, in the Enemy's country, where
the Enemy was to be found at every corner, at his very
elbow, because he knew that nothing could avail against
his purpose to win Jane back to him.
Now he had no such purpose. Jane had turned from
him because some one had lied about him, turned away and
left him here alone in the dark with this hideous thing that
was rising up in him and would not let him think.
He went to the table and filled a pipe with trembling
252
TEMPTATION
fingers. A terror oppressed him, the imminence of a dan-
ger. It was the horror of being alone, alone in the room
where this thing was. He knew it well. It had been here
before and it had conquered him. It lurked in the dark
corners and grinned from his bookshelves and laughed in
the crackling of his fire. " Come," he could hear it say,
" don't you remember old Omar?
" Come, fill the Cup, and in the Fire of Spring
The Winter Garment of Repentance fling;
The Bird of Time has but a little way
To fly and Lo ! the Bird is on the Wing. ' '
His pulses throbbed and his head was burning, though!
a cold sweat had broken out on his brows and temples,^
and his feet were cold ice cold. The tobacco had no
taste, and it only parched his throat the more. He ;
stumbled into the bathroom and bathed his head and
hands in the cold water, and drank of it in huge gulps.'
That relieved him for a moment and he went back to his.
chair and took up his book.
His sickness came back upon him slowly, a premoni-'
tory faintness and then a gripping, aching fire within J
The book trembled in his hands and the type swam in
strange shapes. He clenched his fingers, threw the book
from him and rose with an oath, reaching for his hat and
coat and stumbling toward the door. Downstairs, less
than a block away
Beside the bookcase he caught a glimpse of his image
in the pier glass. He stopped, glared at himself and
straightened.
"Where are you going, d n you? Where? Like
a thief in the night? Look at me! You can't! Where
are you going? "
253
THE SILENT BATTLE
There was no answer but the laughter of the flames
and the sneer of a motor in the Avenue.
His hand released the knob and he turned back into
the room, with eyes staring, teeth set and face ghastly.
" No, by G . You'll not go, Phil Gallatin, not from
this room to-night not for that. Do you hear? You'U
fight this thing out here and now."
He dropped his coat and hat and strode like a fury to
the window. There he lay across the sill, and throwing
the sash open wide, drank the night air into his lungs in
deep breaths.
In a moment the crisis had passed. After a while he
closed the window, came back into the room and sank
into his chair, utterly exhausted. His mind comprehended
dully that he had fought and won, not for Jane, nor for
his future, but for that small fire that was still glowing
in his breast. : He closed his eyes and relaxed his clenched
fingers. His nerves still tingled but only slightly like the
tremor of harpstrings in a passing storm. He was very
v tired and in a moment he fell asleep.
When he awoke, the light of dawn was filtering in at
the windows.*' The lamp had gone out. He struck a match
and made a light. ; - It was six o'clock. He had slept seven
hours. 4 He yawned, stretched himself and looked at his
'disordered reflection in the mirror, suddenly awake to
,the beginning of a new day. * The aches in his body had
gone and his mind was clear again. He leaned forward
upon the mantel and silently apostrophized his image.
"You're going to win, Phil Gallatin. Do you hear?
You're not afraid. You don't care what the world says.
You're not fighting for the world's opinion. It's only
your own opinion of yourself that matters a d n.
If you win that, you've won everything in the world worth
winning."
254
TEMPTATION
He laughed pleasantly and his image smiled back at
him.
"Salut! Monsieur! You're a good sort after all!
You've got more sand than I thought you had. I'm
beginning to like you a great deal. You can look me in
the eye now, straight in the eye. That's right. We un-
derstand each other."
He faced around into the room which had been the
scene of so many of his failures, and of his last and great-
est success. The light from the windows was growing
brighter. It was painting familiar objects with pale violet
patches, glinting on glassware and porcelain like the cold
light of intellect, which now dominated the merely phys-
ical. He swept the room with a glance. Before the light
the shadows were fading. The Enemy
There was no Enemy!
Gallatin poked down the embers of the fire and heaped
on wood and coal. He stripped to his underclothes, did
twenty minutes with dumb-bells and chest weights, and
then went in to draw his bath, singing. He soused himself
in the cold water and came out with chattering teeth, but
in a moment his body was all aglow.
" It's a good body," he mused as he rubbed it, " a
perfectly good body, too good to abuse. There's a soul
inside there, too. Where, nobody seems to know, but it's
there and it isn't in the stomach, and that's a sure thing,
though that's where the stomach thinks it is. We'll give
this body a chance, if you please, a square deal all
around."
He chuckled and thumped himself vigorously, as>
though to assure himself of the thoroughness of his recu-
peration. Seven o'clock found him on the street walking
vigorously in the direction of the Park. He knew that
there was no chance of meeting Jane Loring at this hour
255
THE SILENT BATTLE
of the morning, but he chose the west side that he might
not even see the marble mass where she was sleeping, for
the memory of what had happened there yesterday
rankled like an angry wound.
He breakfasted at the Cosmos at eight, and before
nine was at the office where he finished the morning mail
before even Tooker and the clerks were aware of his pres-
ence there. There were many threads of the Sanborn
case still at a loose end and he spent a long while writing
and dictating to his stenographer, who was still at his
side, when, at about eleven o'clock, the office boy brought
in Nina Jaffray's card.
He was still looking at it when Nina entered.
" I was afraid you might be busy, Phil," she said
calmly, " but I wanted to see you about something."
He nodded to his stenographer and she took up her
papers and went.
" The mountain wouldn't come to Mahomet and
so-
" Do sit down, Nina."
" I'm not interrupting you very much, am I ? "
He laughed.
" No. I'm glad you came, if only to prove to my
friends that I really do work."
"Oh, is that all?"
" No. I'm glad to see you for other reasons."
" I'm curious to know them."
" To be assured, for one thing, that you've forgiven me
for my boorishness "
" Oh, that ! Yes. Of course."
" And for another that your mood will spare me the
pains of further making a fool of myself."
Nina shrugged lightly and laughed at him.
256
TEMPTATION
" Of course you know your limitations, Phil. How
could I promise you that? "
Gallatin smiled at her. She was very fetching this
morning in a wide dark beaver hat with a lilac veil, and
her well-cut tailor-made, snugly fitting in the prevailing
mode, defined the long lines of her slim figure which seemed
in his office chair to be very much at its ease.
" Will you be serious ? "
" In a moment. For the present I'm so over j oyed at
seeing you, that I've forgotten what I came for. Oh, yes
Phil, I'm hopelessly compromised and you've done it.
Don't laugh and don't alarm yourself. You're doing both
at the same time but I really am seriously compro-
mised. There's a story going around that you and I "
" Yes, I've heard it," he said grimly.
" What interest people can possibly discover in the
mishaps of a belated platonic couple in a snowstorm is
more than I can fathom. Of course, if there had been
anything for them to talk about, I'd have come off scot-
free. As it is I'm pilloried in the market place as a warn-
ing to budding innocence ! Imagine it ! Me ! I'm every-
thing that's naughty, from Eve to Guinevere. It would
be quite sad, if it wasn't so amusing. Weren't we the very
presentment of amatory felicity? Can't you see us now,
swathed in our fur coats, sitting like two bundled mum-
mies upon each side of that monstrosity they called a
stove, ' The Parlor Heater,* that was the name, from Hig-
gins and Harlow, Phila., Pa., done in nickel at the top.
Can't you see us sitting upright on those dreadful hair-
cloth chairs, silent and so miserable? That, my dear
Philip, was the seductive hour in which I fell from grace.
Touching picture, isn't it? "
Gallatin refused to smile.
" Who told this story, Nina? "
257
THE SILENT BATTLE
" The chauffeur probably. I discharged him the next
day."
" Of course that was it. But it's such a silly yarn.
Who will believe it ? "
She threw up her hands in mock despair.
" Every one unfortunately. You see Coley Van Duyn
didn't help matters any by telling about your kissing me
on the stairs."
" D n him," said Phil, through his teeth.
" Besides, I've been careless of their opinion for so
long that people are only glad to get something tangible."
" But it isn't tangible. That farmer out there
could "
Nina raised her hand.
" Denial is confession, my dear. I shall deny nothing.
I shall only smile. In my saddest moments the memory
of Higgins and Harlow's parlor heater with its nickel
icicles around the top will restore my equanimity. I don't
think I've ever before really appreciated the true sym-
bolism of the nickel icicle."
Gallatin had risen and was pacing the floor before
her.
" This gossip must be stopped," he said scowling at
the rug. " If I can't stop it in one way, I can in an-
other."
" And drag my shattered fabric into the rumpus? No,
thanks. J'y suis j'y reste. The role of martyr becomes
me. In my own eyes I'm already canonized. I think I like
the sensation. It has the merit of being a novel one at
any rate."
" Nina, do stop talking nonsense," he put in impa-
tiently. " I'm not going to sit here placidly and let them
tell this lie."
" Well," Nina leaned back in her chair and tilted
258
TEMPTATION
her head sideways " what are you going to do about
it? "
" I'll make them answer to me personally. It was
my fault. I ought to have walked home, I suppose."
" But you didn't that's the rub. They won't answer
to you personally anyway, at least nobody but the chauf-
feur, and he might do it er unpleasantly."
" I'll thrash him I'll break his "
" No, you won't. It wouldn't do the least bit of good,
and besides it would make matters worse if lie thrashed
you. There's only one thing left for you to do, my
friend."
"What?"
" Marry me ! "
Phil Gallatin stopped pacing the floor and faced her,
frowning.
" You still insist on that joke? "
" I do. And it's no joke. It seems to be the least
thing that you can do, under the circumstances."
" Oh, is it ! "
" Of course. You wouldn't leave things as they are,
would you? Think of my shrinking susceptibilities, the
atrocious significance of your negligence. Really, Phil, I
don't see how you can refuse me ! "
Gallatin laughed. He understood her now.
" I'm immensely flattered. I'll marry you with great
pleasure "
" Oh, thanks."
" If I ever decide to marry any one."
"Phil!"
She glanced past him out of the window, smiling.
ft And you're not going to marry any one? "
" No."
" I was afraid you might be." She rose and took up
259
THE SILENT BATTLE
her silver bric-a-brac which clanked cheerfully. She had
learned what she came for.
" Oh, well, I won't despair. I'm not half bad, you
know. Think it over. Some day, perhaps."
" It would be charming, I'm sure," he said politely.
" And, Phil " She paused.
"What?"
" Come and see a fellow once in a while, won't you ?
You know, propinquity is love's alter ego."
" I'm sure of it. Perhaps that's why I'm afraid to
come."
She laughed again as she went out and he followed
her to the door of the outer office where Miss Crenshaw
and Miss Gillespie scrutinized her perfectly appointed
costume and then tossed their heads the fraction of an
inch, adjusted their sidecombs and went on with their
work.
260
XXII
SMOKE AND FIRE
DOWNSTAIRS Miss Jaffray entered her machine
and was driven northward.
It is not for a moment to be supposed during
the weeks which followed Mr. Egerton's party that Miss
Jaffray had retired from the social scene. And if her
rebuff at Phil Gallatin's hands had dampened the ardor
of her enjoyment, no sign of it appeared. She was more
joyously satirical, more unmitigably bored, more ob-
trusively indifferent than ever. But those who knew Nina
best discovered a more daring unconvention in her opin-
ions and a caustic manner of speech which spared no one,
not even herself. She was, if anything, a concentrated
essence of Nina Jaffray.
A woman's potentiality for mischief proceeds in in-
verse ratio to her capacity for benevolence, and Nina's
altruism was subjective. She gave her charity unaffected-
ly to all four-legged things except the fox, which had been
contributed to the economic scheme by a beneficent Provi-
dence for the especial uses of cross-country riders. She
i spent much care and sympathy upon her horses, and
exacted its equivalent in muscular energy. Two-legged
things enjoyed her liking in the exact proportion that
they contributed to her amusement or in the measure
that they did not interfere with her plans.
But the word benevolent applied to Nina with about as
much fitness as it would to the Tropic of Capricorn.
The motto of New York is "The Devil Take the
261
THE SILENT BATTLE
Hindmost," and it feelingly voiced Nina's sentiments in
the world and in the hunting field. She had always made
it a practice to ride well up with the leaders, and to keep
clear of the underbrush, and had never had much sym-
pathy for the laggards. There was a Spartan quality in
her point of view with regard to others, which remained
to be put to the test with regard to herself. The occasion
for such a test, it seemed, had arrived. For the first
time in her life she was apparently denied the thing she
most wanted. She had even been willing to acknowledge
to herself that she wouldn't have wanted Phil Gallatin if
she hadn't discovered that he wanted some one else.
But her liking for him had been transmuted into a
warmer regard with a rapidity which really puzzled her
and forced her to the conclusion that she had cared for
him always. And Phil Gallatin's indifference had stimu-
lated her interest in him to a degree which made it neces-
sary for her to win him away from Jane Loring at all
hazards.
She was not in the least unhappy about the matter.
Here was a real difficulty to be overcome, the first in per-
sonal importance that she had ever faced, and she met it
with a smile, aware that all of the arts which a woman
may use (and some which she may not) must be brought
into play to accomplish her ends.
As a matter of fact, Nina's mechanism was working
at the highest degree of efficiency and she was taking a
real delight in life, such as she had never before expe-
rienced. Since the " Pot and Kettle " affair she had
thought much and deeply, had noted Coleman Van Duyn's
attentions to Jane Loring, and her acceptance of them,
had heard with an uncommon interest of their reported
engagement and had kept herself informed as to the
goings and comings of Phil Gallatin. And she read Jane
262
SMOKE AND FIRE
Loring as one may read an open book. Their personal
relations were the perfection of amiability. They had
met informally on several occasions when Nina had noted
with well-concealed amusement the slightly exaggerated
warmth of Jane's greeting, and had taken care to return
this display of friendship in kind. Everything added to
the conviction that Jane's love of Phil was only exceeded
by her hatred of Nina Jaffray.
And yet until this morning Nina had had moments of
uncertainty, for the incident Jane had witnessed was too
trivial to stand the test of sober second thought, and
Jane was just silly enough to forgive and forget it.
Nina's visit to Phil Gallatin's office had agreeably
surprised her, for Phil had made it perfectly clear that
his estrangement from Jane still existed. But to make
the matter doubly sure, Nina had decided to play a card
she had been holding in reserve. In other words, more
smoke was needed and Nina was prepared to provide the
fuel.
First she met Coleman Van Duyn by appointment at
her own house, and they had a long chat, during which,
without his being aware of it, he was the subject of a
searching examination which had for its object the revela-
tion of the exact relation between himself and Miss Lo-
ring. Even Coley, it seemed, was not satisfied with the
state of affairs. They were not engaged. No. He was
willing to admit it, but he had hopes that before the win-
ter was over Miss Loring would see things his way. His
dislike of Phil Gallatin was thinly veiled and Nina played
upon it with a skill which left nothing to be desired, to
the end that at the last Coley came out into the open and
declared himself flat-footed.
" I don't know your relations with him, Nina. Don't
care, really. You know your way about and all that sort
263
THE SILENT BATTLE
of thing, but he's going it too strong. I'm tired of beatin'
about the bush. I know a thing or two about Phil Gal-
latin and I'll tell 'em soon. It's time people knew the sort
of a Johnny that fellow is."
" Oh, I know, Coley. You're prejudiced. You've got
a right to be. A man doesn't want any scandal hanging
around the name of the girl he's going to marry. Every-
body knows, of course, that Phil and Jane Loring were
together last summer up in the woods and that "
Van Duyn had risen, his eyes more protrusive, his face
more purple than was good for him. It was the first time
he had heard that story spoken of with such freedom, and
it shocked him.
" It wasn't Jane," he roared. " She wasn't the only
woman in Canada last summer. How do you know it was
Jane?"
" She admitted it," said Nina sadly.
" Oh, she did ! Well, what of it? If I don't care, what
business is it of anybody else? She suits me and I'm going
to marry her."
He stopped and glared at Nina, as though it was she
who was the sole author of his unhappiness. Nina only
smiled up at him encouragingly.
" Of course, you are. That's one of the things I
wanted to see you about. I think I can help you, Coley,
if you'll let me."
She made him sit down again and when he was more
composed, went on.
" You see it's this way. I don't mind your running
Phil down, if it gives you any pleasure, but you might
as well know that I don't share your opinions. He isn't
your sort, you don't understand him, and he has managed
to come between you and Jane. But I don't see the slight-
est use in getting excited. These silly romantic affairs
264
SMOKE AND FIRE
of the teens are seldom really dangerous. Phil's infirmities
excited her pity."
" His infirmities ! "
" Yes, but Jane Loring isn't the kind of a girl to put
up with that kind of thing long."
" Rather not !"
" Oh, I don't mean what you do. I mean that she
isn't suited to him, that's all. There are other women
wao might marry him and make something of him.'*
"Who?" he sneered.
" I," she said calmly.
Her quiet tone transfixed him.
" You want to to marry him ? "
" Yes and I'm going to. Perhaps you understand
now how we can help each other."
" By George ! I hadn't an idea, Nina. I knew you'd
been flirting with him and all that but marriage ! "
She nodded.
" You are a good sort," he grinned. " Do you really
mean it? Of course I'll help you if I can, but I hardly
see "
" You don't have to see. Jane Loring may still have a
fancy for Phil Gallatin, but it ought to be perfectly
obvious that she can't marry him if he's going to marry
me. All I want you to do just now is to make yourself
necessary to Jane Loring. Propose to her again to-mor-
row," and then with convincing assurance, " I think she'll
accept you."
"You do? Why?"
" That, if you'll pardon me, is a matter I do not
care to discuss." She arose and dismissed him gracefully,
and Van Duyn wandered forth into Gramercy Park
with a feeling very like that of a timorous hospital patient
who has for the first time been subjected to the X-ray.
265
THE SILENT BATTLE
Nina lunched alone, then dressed for the afternoon
and ordered her machine. She had made no mistake in
presupposing that Jane Loring's curiosity would out-
weigh her prejudices. In their talk upon the telephone
there had been a slight hesitation, scarcely noticeable, on
Jane's part, after which, she had expressed herself as de-
lighted at the opportunity of seeing Nina at the Loring
house.
Miss Jaffray entered the portals of the vast estab-
lishment, her slender figure lost in the great drawing-
room, as she moved restlessly from one object of art to
another awaiting her hostess, like a mischievous and lonely
bacillus newly liberated into a new field of endeavor.
" Nina, dear ! " said Jane effusively as she entered.
" So sweet of you. I haven't really had a chance to have
a talk with you for ages."
" How wonderfully pretty you look, Jane ? I'm sim-
ply wild with envy of you."
It was the feminine convention. Each pecked the
other just once below the eye and each wished that the
other had never been born. Jane led the way into the
library where they sat side by side on the big divan, where
they both skillfully maneuvered for an opening for a while,
feinting and parrying carte and tierce, advancing, re-
treating, neither of them willing to risk a thrust.
But at last, the preliminaries having given her the
touch of her opponent's foil, Nina returned.
" You're really the success of the season, Jane. And
you know when a back number like I am admits a thing
like that about a debutante, it's pretty apt to be true,
But the thing I can't understand is why you want to end
it all and marry."
" Marry whom? "
" Coley."
266
" Oh, you have some private source of information on
the subject? " Jane asked pleasantly.
" None but your own actions," Nina replied coolly.
" It's funny, too, because I've had an idea ever since
that Dryad story I've feared that you were rather keen
on Phil Gallatin."
Nina was forced to admiration of the carelessness of
Jane's parry.
" Mr. Gallatin ! " she said, her eyes wide with won-
der. "What in the world made you think of him? If
I was ever grateful to the man for his kindness up there
in the woods, every instinct in me revolted at the memory
of what people said of us. Do you think I could care for
a man who would let a thing like that be told? " She
hesitated a moment and then added, " Besides, there are
other reasons why Mr. Gallatin and I could never be
friends."
" Oh, I see," Nina said slowly, her gaze on the fire.
" You know, I'm very fond of Phil, and though you may
not approve of him, he's really one of the best fellows
in the world."
" Well, why don't you marry him? " said Jane care-
lessly.
" Marry ! Me ! " Nina laughed softly up at the por-
trait over the mantel. " Good Lord, Jane, you want to
bridle me ! No, thanks. I've only one life, you know, and
I hardly feel like spending it on the Bridge of Sighs. My
recording angel wouldn't stand domestication. She's on
the point of giving up the job already. I suppose I'll
have to marry some day, but when I do I'll select the
quiet, elderly widower of some capable person who has
trained him properly. A well-trained husband may be a
dull blessing, but he's safe. Not Phil Gallatin, my dear.
The girl who marries Phil will have her hands full. But
267
THE SILENT BATTLE
he's such a dear! So solemn, so innocent-looking, as
though butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, and yet "
she paused and sighed audibly.
Jane glanced at her and was silent.
" I've never thought of Phil as a marrying man," Nina
went on. "The thing is impossible, and I'd very much
rather have him as he is. But it does seem a pity about
him because he has so many virtues and he he really
makes love like an angel."
" Does he ? " asked Jane, yawning politely. " But
.then so many men do that."
" Yes I suppose so, but Phil is different somehow."
Jane laughed. " Yes, I gathered that at the 'Pot
and Kettle.' "
Nina glanced up and away. "You did see? It's a
pity. I'm sorry. Quite imprudent of me, wasn't it? I
suppose I ought to be horribly mortified, but I'm not.
I've reached a point where I'm quite hardened to people's
opinions even to yours, Jane. But I confess I was both-
ered a little about that. I am glad you don't care for
Phil, because it would have been awkward and it might
have made a difference in our friendship. You'd have been
sorry, wouldn't you ? "
Jane swallowed. " Oh of course, I would."
" But it doesn't matter now whether you saw or not,
because I'm sure that you and Coley understand."
" I'm not sure that I do understand," said Jane with
a smile toward the cloisonne j ar at the window. " As a
form of diversion I can't say that kissing has ever ap-
pealed to me."
" But then, you know, Jane, you're very young may
I say verdant? It's an innocent amusement, if consid-
ered so. The harm of it is in considering it harmful.
You're a hopeless little Puritan. I can't see how you
268
SMOKE AND FIRE
and I have got along so well. I suppose it's because we're
so different."
" Yes, perhaps that's it. But I'm sure we wouldn't
be nearly so friendly if we ever interfered with each
other."
" I'm glad we haven't, Jane, darling. I've really got-
ten into the way of depending on your friendship. You
don't think I've strained it a little to-day by my er
modern view of old conventions? "
" Not at all. For a Puritan I'm surprisingly liberal.
I don't care at all whom my friends kiss or why. It's
none of my affair. I'd hardly make it so unless I was
asked to."
Nina laid her fingers on Jane's arm. " But we do
understand each other, don't we, Jane?"
" Yes, wonderfully. I'm so glad that you think it
worth while to confide in me."
" I do. You're so sensible and tolerant. I'm almost
too much of a freethinker for most people, and they're
ready to believe almost anything of me. But you don't
care what they say, do you, Jane? "
" No, I don't, Nina. It wouldn't make the slightest
difference to me what people said of you."
And this was the truth, perhaps the first truth in
fact or by inference which either of them had uttered.
So far so good. Honors were even. Each of them was
aware that the other was a hypocrite, each of them was
playing the game of hide and seek, bringing into play
all the arts of dissimulation to which the sex is heir. All
is fair in love and war. This was both. Under such con-
ditions, to the feminine conscience anything is justifiable.
Nina had begun the combat with leisurely assurance;
Jane, with a contempt which fortified her against mishap.
The manners of each were friendly and confiding, their
269
THE SILENT BATTLE
tones caressing, but neither of them deceived the other
and each of them knew that she didn't. Nina had taken
the initiative. She had a mission and in this was at a
slight advantage, for Jane had not yet begun to suspect
what that mission was. She had made up her mind, fem-
inine fashion, not to believe what Nina wanted her to
believe; but before long she began to find that Nina was
mixing truth and fiction with such skill that it was diffi-
cult to distinguish one from the other.
The dangers of the social jungle develop remarkable
perceptions in deer and bird of paradise, but these de-
fensive instincts are not always proof against the craft
of the cat tribe. If they were, the cat tribe would
long since have ceased to exist as a species. Other things
being equal, the stalker of prey has all the advantage.
Nina knew that Jane knew that she was lying. So, to gain
her point, she was prepared if necessary to use the sim-
ple expedient of telling the truth.
Nina was leaning forward, her chin in her hand, her
gaze on the rug.
"You've heard, I suppose, this story people are tell-
ing about Phil and me," she said in a lower tone.
" No," said Jane in tones of curiosity. " Is it some-
thing very dreadful? "
" I'm afraid it is at least people seem to think it
so. It began with an accident to my motor and ended
at a Parlor Heater."
" A Parlor Heater ! Do go on, Nina. I'm immensely
interested."
" Phil and I, on the way home from Egerton's party,
you remember? He went home in my motor. I know
people thought it awfully rude of us as the other motors
were so crowded but it just happened so and we started
home alone after all the others had gone. We ran out
270
SMOKE AND FIRE
of oil and had to put up for the night where we could.
Unfortunate wasn't it? We were miles from nowhere
and not a gallon of gasoline in sight. The farmer seemed
to think we were suspicious characters, but he let us in
at last to sit beside his stove until morning. I'm sure
he was peeping over the balusters most of the time to
be sure we didn't make off with the family Bible." Nina
laughed at the recollection, a little more loudly than
seemed necessary.
" Phil was very sweet about it all. He was so afraid
of compromising me, poor fellow. I really felt very sorry
for him. The farmer wouldn't volunteer to help us, so
Phil wanted to trudge the five miles through the snow to
get the oil. But I wouldn't let him. I couldn't, Jane.
It was frightfully lonely there. The chauffeur was drunk
and I was afraid."
" Y you were quite right," said Jane in a sup-
pressed tone.
Nina glanced at her and went on.
" We sat all night huddled in our furs on opposite
sides of that dreadful parlor stove. I don't think I can
ever forget it. I've never been so miserable in my life
never! We spoke to each other in monosyllables for
a while and at last er I went to sleep in disgust. I
woke up with a frightful pain in my back from that
dreadful chair. What a night ! And to think that it was
for this this, that Phil and I have been talked about!
It's maddening, Jane. If we only had given them a
little flame, just a tiny one for all this smoke! Poor
Phil! He was terribly provoked about it this morning.
He wants to kill that wretched chauffeur, for of course
the whole story came from him. You know, Jane, I dis-
charged him as soon as we got back to town, and this
was his revenge. Sweet, wasn't it? It seems as if one
271
THE SILENT BATTLE
was very much at the mercy of one's mechanician.
They're servants, of course, but you can never get them
to think that they are. I haven't dared tell father. I
don't know what he would do about it. I'm afraid '
Jane Loring had risen and was looking out of the
window into the gathering dusk.
"What's the use, Nina? " she asked quietly.
"The use of what? "
" Telling me all this. I understand, I think."
" I hope you do," said Nina quickly. " I wanted you
to. That's why I told you."
She got up and took a few rapid paces forward.
" Jane ! " she cried suddenly. " What do you mean ?
That I you believe ? Oh, how could you? "
She stood a moment, her face hidden in her hands,
as though the horror of it all had just come to her.
Jane Loring faced around calmly, her face grave.
"What difference does it make what I believe? " she
asked.
Nina looked at her a long while, then dropped her
gaze, turned away and picked up her accessories. Her
mission here was ended.
" I'm sorry. I seem to have misjudged you your
friendship."
" Yes," said Jane. " I think perhaps you have."
Nina moved toward the door, and Jane, motionless,
watched her. She did not speak again nor did Jane;
and in a moment the door closed between them for the
last time.
Nina was smiling when she entered her machine, but
Jane climbed the stairs wearily.
272
XXIII
THE MOUSE AND THE LION
THERE was an activity in the offices of Kenyon,
Hood and Gallatin chiefly centering around the
doings of the youngest member of the firm which
had caused the methodical Tooker some skeptical and
unquiet moments. He had witnessed these spurts of
industry before and remembered that they had always
presaged the bursting of a bubble and the disap-
pearance of the junior partner for a protracted pe-
riod, at the end of which he would return to the
office, pale, nervous and depressed. But as the weeks
went by, far beyond the time usually marked for
this event, Tooker began to realize that something un-
usual had happened. The chief clerk could hardly be
called an observant man, for his business in life kept him
in a narrow groove, but he awoke one morning to the
discovery that a remarkable change had taken place in
the manner and bearing of Mr. Gallatin. There were
none of those fidgety movements of the fingers, that quick
and sometimes overbearing speech, or the habit Mr. Gal-
latin had had (as his father had had it before him)
of pacing up and down the floor of his room, his hands
behind his back, his brows bent over sullen eyes. Mr.
Gallatin's manner and speech were quieter, his gaze more
direct and more lasting. He smiled more, and his ca-
pacity for work seemed unlimited. Tooker waited for
a long while, and then came to the conclusion that a
273
THE SILENT BATTLE
new order of things had begun and that the junior part-
ner had found himself.
There had been frequent important conferences in
Mr. Kenyon's office between the partners during which
Philip Gallatin had advised the firm of the progress of
the Sanborn case, but it was clear that for the present
at least the junior partner dominated the situation. All
his life Tooker had been accustomed to follow in the
footsteps of others, and was prepared to follow Gallatin
gladly, if the junior partner would give him footsteps
to follow. And he was now beginning to appreciate the
significance of those long visits of Mr. Gallatin in Penn-
sylvania, and the infinite care and study with which Gal-
latin had fortified himself. He understood, too, what
those piles of documents on Mr. Gallatin's desk were for,
and in the conferences of the firm, when John Kenyon's
incisive voice cut in, he realized that it was more often in
encouragement, advice, and appreciation, than in conten-
tion or argument.
The Sanborn Company's directors were represented
by the firm of Whitehead, Leuppold, Tyson and Leuppold.
This was one of the firms previously mentioned which had
offices upon an upper floor and included among its clients
many large corporations closely identified with " The In-
terests." A correspondence had been passing between Mr.
Gallatin and Mr. Leuppold with all of which Tooker was
familiar. Mr. Gallatin's early letters stated that he
hoped for a conference with Mr. Loring. Mr. Leuppold's
first replies were couched in polite formulas, the equiva-
lent of which was, in plain English, that Mr. Gallatin
might go to the devil, saying that Mr. Loring had noth-
ing to do with the matter. Mr. Gallatin's reply ignored
this suggestion, and again proposed a conference. Mr.
Leuppold refused in abrupt terms. Mr. Gallatin gave
274
THE MOUSE AND THE LION
reasons for his request. Mr. Leuppold couldn't see them.
Mr. Gallatin patiently gave other reasons. Mr. Leuppold
ignored this letter. Mr. Gallatin wrote another. Mr.
Leuppold in reply considered the matter closed. Mr. Gal-
latin considered the matter just opened. Mr. Leuppold
fulminated politely and satirically suggested intimidation.
Mr. Gallatin regretted Mr. Leuppold's implication but
persisted, giving, as his reasons, the discovery of material
evidence.
The next day Mr. Leuppold came in person, was
shown into Mr. Gallatin's office and Tooker had been pres-
ent at the interview. It had been a memorable occasion.
Mr. Leuppold wore that suave and confident manner for
which he was noted and Gallatin received him with an old-
fashioned courtesy and the deference of a younger man for
an older, which left nothing to be desired. Accepting this
as his due, Leuppold began in a fatherly way to impress
upon Gallatin the utter futility of trying to win the in-
junction in the Court of Appeals. The contentions of
Sanborn et al. had no basis either in law or in equity. Mr.
Gallatin had doubtless been unduly influenced by doubtful
precedents. He, Leuppold, was familiar with every phase
of the case and had defended the previous suit which had
been brought and lost by a legal firm in Philadelphia.
There was absolutely nothing in Mr. Gallatin's position
as stated in his correspondence and he concluded by re-
ferring " his young friend" to certain marked passages
in a volume which he had brought in under his arm. Gal-
latin read the passages through with interest and listened
with a show of great seriousness to Mr. Leuppold's inter-
pretation of them. Mr. Leuppold had a mien which com-
manded attention. Gallatin gave it, but he said little in
reply which could indicate his possible ground of action,
except to express regret that Mr. Leuppold's clients had
275
THE SILENT BATTLE
taken such an intolerant view of his own client's claims
and to deplore the unfortunate tone of Mr. Leuppold's
own letter of some days ago.
When it was quite clear to Mr. Leuppold that the
young man was not to be moved by persuasion, his manner
changed.
" I have done my best, Mr. Gallatin," he said irritably,
" to prove to you the utter futility of your course. My
clients have nothing to fear. I am only trying to save
them the expense of further litigation. But if you insist
on bringing this case to trial, we will welcome the oppor-
tunity to show further evidence in our possession. We
have been content for the sake of peace to let matters
go on as they have been going, but if this suit is pressed,
I warn you that it will be unfortunate for your clients."
" I hope not. I hope we won't have to bring suit,"
replied Gallatin easily. " I'm only asking for a confer-
ence of all the parties interested, Mr. Leuppold. That
certainly is little enough, an amicable conference, a dis-
cussion if you like "
" There is nothing to discuss."
" I beg to differ. Leaving aside for a moment the
question of the new evidence in the Sanborn case, do you
think that Mr. Loring, who controls its stock, would care
to have his connection with the Lehigh and Pottsville Rail-
road Company brought into court? "
Mr. Leuppold gasped. He couldn't help it. How and
where had this polite but surprising young man obtained
this information, which no member of his own firm besides
himself possessed. It was uncanny. Was this the fellow
they had talked about and smiled over upstairs? Mr.
Leuppold took to cover skillfully, hiding his uneasiness
under a bland smile.
" You're dreaming, sir," he said.
276
THE MOUSE AND THE LION
Gallatin shook his head.
" No, I'm not dreaming."
Gallatin rose and took a few paces up and down the
room. " See here, Mr. Leuppold, I'm not prepared to
discuss the matter further now. I've asked you for a con-
ference and you call my request intimidation which
might mean a much uglier thing. You've treated my cor-
respondence in a casual way and you've patronized me in
my own office. I've kept my temper pretty well, and I'm
keeping it still; but I warn you that you have been and
still are making a mistake. I've asked for a conference
because I believe this matter can be settled out of court,
and because I didn't think it fair to your client to go to
court without giving him a chance to save himself. We
have no desire to enter into a long and expensive litiga-
tion, but we are prepared to do so and will take the pre-
liminary steps at once, unless we have some immediate con-
sideration of our claims. If you stand suit on this appeal
you will lose, and I fancy the evidence presented will be
of such character that you will not care to take the matter
further. Don't reply now, Mr. Leuppold. Think it over
and let me hear from you in writing."
Mr. Leuppold had not moved. He was watching Gal-
latin keenly from under his beetling brows. Was this
mere guess work? W T hat did the young man really know?
What evidence had he? Was it a bluff? If so, he made it
in tones with which Leuppold was unfamiliar. But it was
no time to back water now. He smiled approvingly at
Phil Gallatin's inkwell.
"Mr. Gallatin, your imagination does you credit. A
good lawyer must have intuition. But he's got to have
discretion, too. You think, because the interests we rep-
resent are wealthy ones, that you can throw a stick in our
direction and be sure of hitting something. Unfortunately
277
THE SILENT BATTLE
you have been misinformed on all points. Mr. Loring
has voluntarily submitted his holdings in Pennsylvania to
investigation. You can never prove any connection be-
tween the Pequot Coal Company and the Lehigh and
Pottsville Railroad. There is none."
He rose pompously and took up his hat and books.
" There isn't any use in our talking over this case.
It will lead us nowhere. But I'll promise you if you'll
put your proposition in writing to submit it to careful
consideration."
" Thanks," said Gallatin dryly. He picked a large
envelope up from the table and handed it to his visitor.
" I have already done so. Will you take it with you or
shaU I mail it? "
" I you may give it to me, Mr. Gallatin."
Gallatin walked to the outer door and politely bowed
him out, while Tooker, his thin frame writhing with
ecstasy, fussed with some papers on the big table in the
junior partner's office until he was more composed, and
then went on about his daily routine. He realized now for
the first time the full stature of the junior partner. In
a night, it almost seemed to Tooker, he had outgrown his
boyhood, his brilliant wayward boyhood that had promised
so much and achieved so little. He was like his father
now, but there was a difference. Philip Gallatin, the
elder, he remembered, had dominated his office by the mere
force of his intellect. He had directed the preparation of
his cases with an unerring legal sense and he had won them
through his mastery of detail and the elimination of the
unessential. But it was when presenting his case to a
jury that he was at his strongest, for such was the per-
sonal quality of his magnetism that jurors were willing
to be convinced less by the value of his cause than by the
magic of his sophistry. But to Tooker, who was little
278
THE MOUSE AND THE LION
more than a piece of legal machinery, there was some-
thing in the methods of the son which compensated for
the more spectacular talents of the father, the painstaking
and diligent way in which Gallatin had planned and car-
ried out his present investigations and the confidence with
which he was putting his information to use. It was clear
to Tooker that Leuppold had been unprepared for Philip
Gallatin's revelations. Even now Tooker doubted the
wisdom of them, for Mr. Leuppold would not be slow to
take advantage of his information and to cover the traces
left by his clients as well as he might. But when he spoke
of it to Gallatin, the junior partner had laughed.
" Don't you bother, old man. Wait a while. We'll
hear from Mr. Leuppold very soon before the week is
out, I think."
In the offices upstairs, Mr. Leuppold's return was the
signal for an immediate consultation of the entire firm,
which would have flattered and encouraged Philip Gallatin
had he been aware of it. Mr. Tyson and Mr. Whitehead
discovered in Mr. Leuppold's account of the interview
undue cause for alarm. They were themselves adepts in
the game Mr. Gallatin was evidently playing and could be
depended upon at the proper moment to out-maneuver
him. Mr. Leuppold disagreed and was forced to admit
the weakness of Mr. Loring's position, if, as he suspected,
Mr. Gallatin had succeeded in fortifying himself with the
proper evidence. The stock was, of course, not in Mr.
Loring's name, but a man of resource might have been able
to find means to establish a legal connection of the mine
with the railroad. Mr. Leuppold's opinions usually bore
weight, but just now he seemed to have no definite opin-
ions.
The conference of the partners lasted until late in the
afternoon, during which time messengers came and went
279
THE SILENT BATTLE
between the firm's offices and those of the Pequot Coal
Company and that of the President of the L. and P.
Henry K. Loring was out of town and would not return
until the end of the week. A wire was sent to him to re-
turn to New York at once, and it was decided thr.t no
reply to Mr. Gallatin's letter should be sent until Mr.
Loring had been advised.
Phil Gallatin, in high good humor, lunched that morn-
ing with the senior partner at a fashionable restaurant up-
town. His work on the Sanborn case was finished. He
had been at it very hard for two months, and the two
of them had planned to spend the afternoon and follow-
ing day up at John Kenyon's farm in Westchester, where
they would do some riding, some walking and some rest-
ing, of which both were in need. The lunch was a pre-
liminary luxury and they found a table in a corner on the
Avenue and ordered.
There was no talk of office matters. John Kenyon had
been thoroughly advised of Phil's work and knew that
there was nothing in the way of suggestion or advice
that he could offer. He had noticed for some days the
gaunt look in his young partner's face. There were indi-
cations of his growing maturity and shadows of the
struggle through which he had passed, but there were
marks which John Kenyon knew belonged to a different
kind of trouble. Gallatin had told him what had hap-
pened in the woods and Kenyon had learned something
of Phil's romance in New York. But Kenyon was not
given to idle or curious questioning, and he knew that
when Phil was ready to speak of private matters he would
do so.
Their oysters had been served and their planked fish
brought when a fashionable party entered and was con-
ducted by the head waiter to an adjoining table which
280
THE MOUSE AND THE LION
had been decorated for the occasion. Mrs. Pennington
led the way, followed by Miss Ledyard, Mrs. Perrine and
Miss Loring. Behind them followed Ogden Spencer,
Bibby Worthington, Colonel Broadhurst and Coleman
Van Duyn, who was, it appeared, the host.
Phil had hoped that his presence might pass unnoticed ;
but Nellie Pennington espied him and nodded gayly, so
that he had to rise and greet her. This drew the eyes
of others and when the party was seated he discovered
that Miss Loring, on Van Duyn's right, was seated facing
him and that her eyes after one blank look in his direction
were assiduously turned elsewhere. John Kenyon caught
the change in Gallatin's expression, but in a moment Phil
had resumed their conversation upon the comparative
merits of the Delaware River and Potomac River shad, and
their luncheon went on to its conclusion. But the spirits
of John Kenyon's guest had fallen, and Kenyon's most
persuasive stories failed to find a response. In spite of
himself Phil Gallatin found himself looking at Jane and
thinking of Arcadia. It was three weeks now since that
much to be remembered and regretted interview at the
Loring house had taken place. The glance he stole at
Jane assured him that if he had ever had a hope of recon-
ciliation, the chances for it were now more remote than
ever. She wore a huge hat which screened her effectually,
and the glimpses he had of her face showed it dimpling in
smiles for Coleman Van Duyn or Bibby Worthington, who
sat on either side of her. When their eyes had first met
he had thought her pale, but as the moments passed a
warm color mounted her cheeks. It seemed to Gallatin
that never before within his memory had she ever appeared
so care-free. She was youth untrammeled, a sister to
Euphrosyne, the spirit of joy. It seemed as if she realized
that the grim specter which had stolen into her life for a
281
THE SILENT BATTLE
while had been exorcised away, and that she had already
forgotten it in the beckoning of the jocund hours. Phil
Gallatin had come into her life and gone, leaving no trace
in her mind or in her heart.
After this their eyes met but once. He was looking at
her, thinking of these things, oblivious of what John Ken-
yon was saying, unaware of the intentness of his gaze,
which at last compelled her to look in his direction. It
was a startled glance that she gave him, wide-eyed, almost
fearful, as though he had challenged her to this silent
combat. Then her lids lowered insolently, her chin lifted
and she turned aside.
Their coffee had been served. Phil gulped his down
hastily. " Come, Uncle John," he said hoarsely. " Let's
get out of this, will you? "
John Kenyon paid the check and they rose. Unfor-
tunately the only path to the door lay by Mr. Van Duyn's
table, and as Gallatin passed, nodding to his acquaint-
ances, Mrs. Pennington got up and stood in front of him.
" I do so want to see you for a moment, Phil. Will
you excuse me, Coley? " she said, and led the way into a
room where she found an unoccupied corner. John Ken-
yon went elsewhere to smoke his cigar.
"Oh, Phil!" she whispered. "Why wouldn't you
come to see me? I've had so much to talk to you about."
" I I've been very busy, Nellie. I haven't been any-
where."
" My house isn't ' anywhere.' I want to talk to you
you know what I mean."
" It won't do any good, Nellie," he muttered. " There
isn't anything more to be said."
" Perhaps not but I want to say it just the same. I
want you to promise "
282
" I can't," he said hoarsely. " Don't ask me to come
and talk to you about that."
" Well, then, come and talk to me about other things."
" I can't. If I come I must talk about what you
remind me of."
She hesitated, looking at him critically.
" Phil, you're an idiot," she said at last.
" Thanks," he replied, " I'm aware of it."
" Are you going to give up ? "
" I've given up."
Nellie Pennington shrugged. " For good? You're
going to let Oh, I've no patience with you."
" I'm sorry. You did what you could and I'm thank-
ful. Don't think I'm ungrateful. I'm not. One of these
days I'll prove it. You did a lot. I'm awake, Nellie.
You woke me and I'm not going to sleep again."
" I'm proud of you, Phil, but you're not awake not
really awake or you couldn't sit by and see the girl you
love forced into an engagement with a man she doesn't
care for."
Gallatin flushed.
" Is that " he asked slowly, " is that what this
this luncheon means ? "
" Judge for yourself. He is with her always. And
they've even rebelled against my chaperonage. Their lela-
tions are talked of freely in Jane's presence and she
laughs acquiescence. Imagine it ! "
Gallatin turned away.
" I I have no further interest in in Miss Loring,"
he said quietly.
" Well, / have. And I'm not going to let her make a
fool of herself if I can help it."
" Miss Loring will probably not agree with you."
283
THE SILENT BATTLE
"I hardly expect her to." She hesitated. "Phil,"
she asked at last.
" What, Nellie? "
"Will you answer a question?"
"What?"
" Was this story they're telling about you and Nina
mentioned? "
" Yes, it was."
" I thought so," triumphantly. " Phil we must talk
this thing out."
" It can do no good "
" And no harm. There's been a mistake somewhere
something neither you nor I understand." She stopped
and tapped her forehead with her index finger. " I can't
tell what but I sense it here. Something has gone
wrong what, I don't know. I've got to think about it."
" Yes it's gone wrong and it can't be righted."
" Perhaps not," she said rising. " But I do want you
to come to see me. Won't you? "
"You're very persistent, aren't you? Very well, I'll
come."
" I must go now. Coley will be furious. I hope so,
at any rate."
She smiled at him again and went back to her lunch-
eon party while Gallatin found John Kenyon and drove
to the Grand Central station.
284
XXIV
DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND
IT was the middle of March, and fashionable New York,
having been at least twice through its winter ward-
robe, had gone southward for a change of speed.
Aiken, Jekyl Island and Palm Beach had all done their
share in the midwinter rejuvenation, but the particular
set of people with which this story concerns itself were
spending the last days of the Lenten season at the Dorsey-
Martin's place in Virginia.
Dorsey-Martin was rich beyond the dreams of Alnas-
char, but unlike the unfortunate brother of the barber,
had not smashed the glassware in his basket until he had
sold it to somebody else, when he was enabled to buy it in
again at a much reduced rate. His particular specialty
was not glassware, but railroads which, while equally
fragile, could be put together again and be made (to all
appearances) as good as new.
The fruits of this fortunate talent were in evidence
in his well-appointed house in New York with its col-
lection of old English portraits, his palace at Newport
just finished, and in his " shooting place " in Virginia.
The Dorsey-Martins had " arrived." They had been
ten years in transit, and their ways had been devious, but
their present welcome more than compensated for the
pains and money which had been spent in the pilgrimage.
The Virginia place, " Clovelly " adjoined that of the
Ledyards, and consisted of a thousand acres of preserved
woodland and dale, within a night's journey of New York.
285
THE SILENT BATTLE
Autumn, of course, was the season when " Clovelly " was
most in use, but spring frequently found it the scene of
gay gatherings such as the present one, for in addition
to the squash courts and swimming pool there was court
tennis, with a marker constantly in attendance, a good
stable, and hospitable neighbors.
It was Nellie Pennington who had prevailed upon Phil
Gallatin to accept Mrs. Dorsey-Martin's invitation, for
she knew that Jane Loring was staying at " Mob j ack,"
the Ledyards' place, and she hoped that she might yet be
the means of bringing the two together. Her interview
with Phil had been barren of results, except to confirm
her in the suspicion that Nina Jaffray held the key to the
puzzle. Nina, who had been one of the early arrivals at
" Clovelly," had so far eluded all her snares ; and Nellie
Pennington was now convinced that here was a foeman
worthy of her subtlest metal. She enjoyed the game huge-
ly, as, apparently, did Nina, and their passages at arms
were as skillful (and as ineffectual) as those of two per-
fectly matched maitres d'escrime. Nina knew that Nellie
Pennington suspected her of mischief, but she also knew
that it was unlikely that any one would ever know, unless
from Jane, just what that mischief had been.
The arrival of Phil Gallatin, while it gave Nina happi-
ness, made her keep a narrower guard against the verbal
thrusts of her playful adversary.
Phil Gallatin had regained his poise and reached " Clo-
velly " in a jubilant frame of mind. Two days ago Henry
K. Loring had agreed to a conference.
Mr. Leuppold, more suave, more benign, more patron-
izing than ever, had called and told Gallatin of this note-
worthy act of condescension on the part of his client.
Nothing, of course, need be expected from such a meeting
in the way of concessions, but men of the world like Mr.
286
Leuppold and Mr. Gallatin knew that co-operation was,
after all, the soul of business, and that one caught many
more flies with treacle than with vinegar.
He continued for half an hour in this vein, platitudi-
nizing and begging the question at issue while Gallatin
listened and assented politely, without giving any further
intimation of a course of action for Kenyon, Hood and
Gallatin. But when the great lawyer had departed, Gal-
latin went to the window and surveyed the steel gray
waters of the Hudson with a gleaming eye, and his face
wore a smile which would not depart. Sanborn's case
would never go to court.
The vestiges of this good humor still remained upon
his face and in his demeanor all the morning, which had
been spent in a run with the Warrenton pack. It was
so long since he had ridden to hounds that he had almost
forgotten the joy of it, but he was well mounted and fin-
ished creditably. Nina Jaffray showed the field her heels
for most of the way and Gallatin pounded after her, his
muscles aching, determined not to be outridden by a
woman.
In the first check, she drew her horse alongside of his
and smiled at him.
" Ready to let me announce it yet, Phil? " she asked.
Gallatin just then was wondering whether his leg grip
would last out the day.
" Announce what, Nina? " he asked.
" Our engagement," she returned with a smile. " It's
almost time, you know."
" Oh, go as far as you like."
"Don't laugh f"
" I've got to you make me so happy."
" Oh, you can joke if you like now, but you'll have to
marry me some day."
287
THE SILENT BATTLE
"Oh, will I? Why?"
" Because you like me. Friendship subdues even Time,
Phil. I'm willing to wait."
And when he looked at her, at loss for a reply, the
hounds gave tongue again and they were off at a full
gallop. He couldn't help admiring her this morning.
The easy unconventionality of her speech, her attitude of
good fellowship, were a part of the setting. This was the
scene in which she always appeared to the best advantage
and she took the center of the stage with an assurance
which showed how well she knew her lines.
It was Nina's brush, of course, for she had brought
down her own best hunter for the occasion and was in at
the death with the Huntsman and Master of the Hounds,
while Gallatin trailed in with the Field. And in the ride
homeward Phil found himself jogging along comfortablj
at Nina's side.
" Phil," she said again, when the others Had ridden on
ahead. " I hope you won't laugh at me any more. It's
indecent. I never laugh at you."
" Oh, don't you? You're never doing anything else."
" It seems so, doesn't it? That's my pose, Phil. I'm
really very much in earnest about things. I don't suppose
I ever could learn to love anybody the faculty is lack-
ing, somehow ; but I think you know that, even if I didn't
love you, I'd never love any one else, whatever happened,
and I'd be true as Death."
" Yes, I know that. But "
" But? " she repeated.
" But I'm not going to marry," he laughed.
She shrugged.
" Oh, yes, you will some day."
" Why do you think so? "
" Because men of your type always do."
288
^DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND
" My type? "
" Yes, they usually marry late and beneath them. I'm
trying to save you from that mistake."
He smiled at her saucy profile.
" Marrying one's equal doesn't always mean equality."
" You were always a dreamer, Phil."
61 1 think I'll always dream then, Nina," he broke in
abruptly. " Don't make the mistake of thinking that
you've got to marry somebody anybody just because
you've reached the marriageable age. That's the trap
that catches most of us. Marry for love, Nina. You've
got that much capital to begin on. Love doesn't die a
sudden death."
" Not unless it's killed. That happens, you know."
" You can't kill it easily. You may scoff at it, deny
it, wound it, but it doesn't die, Nina."
She turned and examined him narrowly, then shifted
her bridle to the other hand and ran her crop along her
horse's neck.
" You know, Jane Loring is going to marry Coley."
" What has that to do with what we're talking
about ? " he said quickly.
" Oh, nothing. Only I thought you'd like to know
it. You'll have a chance to congratulate them to-
night."
"To-night? Where?"
" They're at the Ledyards', but they're dining at
Clovelly.' "
"Oh!"
" So, if you're going to put them asunder, you'd better
(do it to-night or forever hold your peace."
He smiled around at her calmly.
" Nothing doing, Nina. You missed it that time.
The only things I'm putting asunder are a railroad and
289
THE SILENT BATTLE
an omnivorous coal company. That takes about all my
energy."
" Phil," she put in thoughtfully after a moment.
"What?"
" What's the use of waiting? You're going to marry
me in the end, you know."
"Oh, ami?"
" Yes. You can't afford to refuse. I've got the
money, position, and father has influence. That means
power for a man of your ability. You're getting am-
bitious. I can tell that by the way you're sticking at
thingsl There's no telling what you mightn't accomplish
with the help I can bring you. Oh, you could get along
alone, of course. But you'd waste a lot of time. You'd
better think about it seriously."
" I have thought about it. I'm really beginning to
believe you mean it."
" Yes, I do mean it. I've decided to marry you.
And you know I've never yet failed at anything I've un-
dertaken."
She was quite in earnest and he looked at her
amusedly.
" Then I suppose I'd better surrender at discretion."
" Yes, I'm sure you had."
" Isn't there a loophole? "
" None, whatever. I'm your super-man, Phil. You
might just as well go at once and order your wedding
garments and the ring. It will save us endless discussions
and you know I hate discussions. They're really very
wearing. Besides, O Phil ! " She laid the end of her crop
on his arm " just think what a lot of fun you'll get out
of letting Jane know how little you care ! "
Gallatin didn't reply and in a moment they had
290
reached the stables of " Clovelly " where the others were
dismounting.
In his room, to which he had gone in search of his
pipe, Gallatin paused at the window, looking out over
the winter landscape, thinking. Why not? Why
shouldn't he marry her? It would be a cold-blooded busi-
ness, of course, but he called to mind a dozen marriages
of reason that had turned out satisfactorily, and as many
marriages for love which had ended in the ditch. This
life was a pleasant kind of poison, the luxury and ease,
the careless gayety of these pleasant people who moved
along the line of least resistance, taking from life only
what suited their moods, living only for the moment, sure
that the future was amply provided for. He had turned
his back on this world for a while, and had lived in an-
other, a sterner world, with which this one had little in
common. A place like this might be his, with its broad
acres and stables, horses and motor cars, a life like this for
the asking. A marriage of reason ! With Nina Jaffray at
the helm of his destiny and hers. God forbid!
He had laid his own course now, but he had weathered
the rocks and shoals and the rough water in sight did not
dismay him. Marriage ! He wanted none of it with Nina
or any other. This kind of life was not for him unless he
won it for himself, for only then would he be fit to live it.
And while he found it good to be away from his rooms in
the house in Street, good to be away from the office
for a while, the atmosphere of " Clovelly " was redolent
of his early days of indolence and undesire and he suddenly
found himself less tolerant of the failings of these people
than he had ever been before. He hadn't realized what his
work had meant until he had this idleness to compare it
with.
291
THE SILENT BATTLE
Jane ! He had been able, to think less of Jane Loring
in the fever of work, but here at " Clovelly," among the
people they both knew, where her name was frequently
mentioned, he found it less easy to forget her, and the im-
minence of the hour when he must see her again gave him a
qualm.
He lighted his pipe and started downstairs toward the
gunroom, where the guests were recounting the adventures
of the morning over tobacco and high-balls. Nellie Pen-
nington, who had an instinct for the psychological mo-
ment, met him and led him to a lounge at the end of the
hall.
" Well," she said, " are you prepared to give a full
account of yourself? "
" An empty account, dear Mother Confessor. I'm
neither sinful nor virtuous."
" I'm not so sure about that."
"About which?"
" About either. You're unpleasantly self-righteous
and criminally unamiable."
"Oh, Nellie, to whom? "
" To me. Also, you're stupid ! "
" Thanks. That's my misfortune. What else? "
" That's enough to begin on. I could pull your ears
in chagrin. You've treated my advice with the scantest
ceremony, made ducks and drakes of the opportunities I've
provided, and lastly you've gone and gotten Nina J affray
talked about "
"Nellie! Please! I can't permit "
" Oh, fudge, Phil. Nina is well able to look after her-*
self. It isn't of Nina I'm thinking."
"Who then?"
" You ! You silly goose. There isn't any spectacle in
the world half so ludicrous as a chivalrous man defending
292
DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND
the fame of a woman who doesn't care whether she's de-
fended or not."
" I don't see "
" I know you don't. That's why I'm telling you."
" But Nina does care."
" Yes, but not precisely in the way that you suppose.
Fortune gave her some excellent cards and she played
them."
" Please be more explicit."
" Very well, then. Girls of Nina's type would rather
have their name coupled unpleasantly with that of the
man they care for than not coupled with it at all."
" Nonsense, Nina doesn't care "
" Oh, yes, she does. She wants to marry you. She has
told you so, hasn't she? "
Phil Gallatin looked at her quickly with eyes agog.
Such powers of divination were uncanny.
" She has proposed to you once twice how many
times, Phil? "
" None not at all," he stammered, while she smiled
and shrugged her incredulity.
" If I didn't know already, I need only a glance at
your face to be convinced of it."
" How did you know? "
" How does a woman know anything? By virtue, my
friend, of those invisible spiritual fibers which she thrusts
in all directions and upon which she receives impressions.
That's how she knows."
" You guessed? "
" Call it that, if you like. I guessed. I guessed this,
also: that Nina wanted Jane to believe this story to be
true. It didn't need much to convince her. That little
Nina was willing to provide."
"What?"
293
THE SILENT BATTLE
" Nina admitted that the story was true," she re-
peated.
Gallatin rose to his feet and stared at his companion
like one possessed.
" Nina admitted it ! You're dreaming."
" No. I'm very wide awake. I wish you were."
" It's preposterous. Whatever put such an idea into
your head? "
" My antennas."
" Nonsense ! "
" Listen. Nina called on Jane a while ago. They had
a long talk. Something happened something that has
interrupted friendly relations. They don't speak now.
What do you suppose that talk was about? The weather?
Or a plan for the amelioration of the condition of home-
less cats? Oh, you know a lot about women, Phil Galla-
tin ! " she finished scornfully.
" I know enough," he muttered.
" You think you do," she put in quickly. " The Lord
give me patience to talk to you ! For unbiased ignorance,
next to the callous youth who thinks he knows it all,
commend me to the modern Galahad ! The one only thinks
he knows, but the other doesn't want to know. He's con-
tent to believe every woman irreproachable by the mere
virtue of being a woman. Nina Jaffray has played her
cards with remarkable cleverness, but she has been quite
unscrupulous. It's time you knew it, and it's time that
Jane did. I would tell her if I thought she would believe
me, but I fancy I've meddled enough."
Gallatin took two or three paces up and down and
then sat down beside her.
" It isn't meddling, Nellie," he said quietly. " You've
done your best and I'm grateful to you. Unfortunately,
you can't help me any longer. It's too late. I did what I
294
could. No girl who had ever loved a man could let him
go so easily, could doubt him so willingly. It was all a
mistake. It's better to find it out now than too late."
Nellie Pennington didn't reply. She only looked down
at her muddy boots with the cryptic smile that women
wear when they wish to conceal either their ignorance or
their wisdom.
" Did you know that Jane was dining here to-night ? "
she asked.
" Yes," he replied. " Nina told me. I'm sorry."
" It doesn't matter in the least. The world is big
enough for everybody. Jane evidently thinks so, too.
Otherwise she wouldn't be coming."
" Does she know I'm here? "
" Oh, yes, she knows that Nina is, too."
Gallatin looked out of the window.
" You don't understand women, do you, Phil ? Admit
that and I'll tell you why she's coming."
He smiled. " I do admit it. You're all in league with
the devil."
" She's coming here because she wants to show you
how little she cares, because she has a morbid curiosity
to see you and Nina together, and lastly," at this she
leaned toward him with her lips very close to his ear,
" and lastly because she loves you more madly than
ever ! "
He had hardly recovered from the shock of surprise
at this announcement when he realized that Nellie Pen-
nington had suddenly risen and fled.
This preliminary step taken, Nellie Pennington re-
treated upstairs in the most amiable of moods, to dress
for luncheon. If Nina was going to play the game with
marked cards, it was quite proper that Phil be permitted
the use of the code. She had at least provided him with
295
THE SILENT BATTLE
food for reflection, which, while not quite pleasant to take,
would serve as nutrition for his failing optimism. And
somewhere in the back of her head a plan was being born,
unpalpable as yet and formless, but which persisted in
growing in spite of her.
296
XXV
DEEP WATER
THE afternoon was passed in leisurely fashion. The
modern way of entertaining guests is to let them
entertain themselves. They loafed, smoked, played
bottle-pool and later on there was a court tennis match
between young Dorsey-Martin and the marker, which
drew a gallery and applause. Nina Jaffray tried it next
with Bibby Worthington and though she had played but>
once, got the knack of the " railroad " service and suc-
ceeded in beating him handily, amid derisive remarks for
Bibby from the nets. A plunge in the pool followed ; after
which the ladies went up for a rest before dressing for
dinner. Gallatin saw little of Nellie Pennington during
the afternoon, and though he wanted to question her to
satisfy the alarming curiosity which she had aroused, she
avoided speaking to him alone, and when he insisted on
following her about, fled to her room. She knew the effect
of her revelations upon his mind and she didn't propose
that it should be spoiled by an anti-climax.
The dinner hour arrived and with it the Ledyards and
their house-guests, Angela Wetherill, Millicent Reeves,
the Perrines, Jane Loring, Percy Endicott, Coleman Van
Duyn and some of the Warrenton folk. Dinner tables,
each with six chairs, had been laid in the dining-room and
hall, but so perfect was the machinery of the great estab-
lishment that the influx of guests made no apparent differ-
ence in its orderly procedure. There were good-natured
297
THE SILENT BATTLE
comments on Bibby Worthington's defeat in the afternoon,
congratulations for Nina Jaffray on her dual achieve-
ment, uncomplimentary remarks about Virginia clay, nat-
tering ones about Virginia hospitality and the usual dis-
cussion about breeds of hounds and horses, back of which
was to be discovered the ancient rivalry between the Ce-
darcroft and Apawomeck hunt clubs.
Nellie Pennington directed the destinies of the table
at which Gallatin sat. Nina Jaffray was on his right,
Larry Kane beyond her, Coleman Van Duyn on Mrs.
Pennington's left and Jane Loring opposite. Nothing
could possibly have been arranged which could conspire
more thoroughly to lacerate the feelings of those assem-
bled. Gallatin saw Jane halt when she was directed to
her seat, he heard Nina's titter of delight beside him,
caught Larry Kane's glare and Coley Van Duyn's flush,
but the stab of Jane's eyes hardened him into an imme-
diate gayety in which Nina was not slow to follow. Mrs.
Pennington having devised the situation, calmly sat and
proceeded to enjoy it. Good breeding, she knew, made a
fair amalgam of the most heterogeneous elements, but she
gave a short sigh when they were all seated and each
began talking rapidly to his neighbor, Jane to Larry
Kane, Nina to Phil and herself to Coley. Pangs in every
heart except her own! It was the perfection of social
cruelty, and she enjoyed it hugely, aware that two, per-
haps three, of the persons at the table might never care
to speak to her again, but stimulated by the reflection,
whether for bad or good, something must come out of her
crucible. The first shock of dismay over, it was apparent
that her dinner partners had decided to make the best
of the situation. The table was small, and general con-
versation inevitable, but she chose for the present to let
matters take their course, trusting to Nina to provide
298
DEEP WATER
that element of uncertainty which was to make the plot
of her comedy fruitful.
Indeed, Nina seemed in her element, and, when a sud-
den silence fell, broke the ice with a carelessness which
showed her quite oblivious of its existence.
" So nice of you, Nellie, to have us all together ! I
was just saying to Phil that dinners at small tables can be
such a bore, if the people are not all congenial."
" Jolly, isn't it ? " laughed Nellie. " Jane, why weren't
you hunting this morning? "
" Oh, Coley didn't want to," she said quickly, her
rapier flashing in two directions.
Nellie Pennington understood.
" You are getting heavy, aren't you, Coley ? " she
asked sweetly. " Didn't Honora have anything up to your 1
weight? "
" I didn't ask," returned Van Duyn peevishly. " Dread-
ful bore, huntin' "
" Hear the man ! " exclaimed Nellie. " You're spoiling
him, Jane."
" There's no hope for any creature who doesn't like
hunting," put in Nina in disgust.
" Except the fox," said Gallatin.
" And there's not much for him when Nina rides,"
laughed Larry Kane. " Lord, Nina, but you did take
some chances to-day."
" I believe in taking chances," put in Miss Jaffray
calmly. " The element of uncertainty is all that makes
life worth while. Nothing in the world is so deadly as
the obvious."
" You'll be kept busy avoiding it," sighed Nellie. " I've
been."
" Oh, I simply ignore it," she returned, with a quick
gesture. " Jane won't approve, of course ; but the un-
299
THE SILENT BATTLE
usual, the daring, the unconventional are the only things
that interest me at all."
" They interest others when you do them, Nina," Jane
replied smiling calmly.
" Of course, they do. And you ought to be grate-
ful."
" We are. I'm sure we'd be very dull without you.
Personally I'm a bromide."
" Heaven forbid ! The things that are easiest are not
worth trying for. Whether your game is fish, fowl or
beast (and that includes man), try the most difficult. The
thrill of delight when you bag your game is worth all the
pains of the effort. Isn't it, Nellie? "
" 1 don't know," the other replied, between oysters.
" I bagged Dick, but then I didn't have to try very hard.
I suppose I would have bagged him just the same. A
woman can have any man she wants, you know."
" The trouble is," laughed Larry Kane, " that she
doesn't know what she wants."
" And, if she does, Larry," said Gallatin slowly, " he's
usually the wrong one."
Nina laughed.
" His sex must be blamed for that. The right men
are all wrong and the wrong men are all right. That's
my experience. ' Young saint, old devil ; young devil, old
saint.' You couldn't provide me with a better recom-
mendation for a good husband than a bad reputation as
a bachelor. And think of the calm delights of regenera-
tion!"
" You'll have no difficulty in finding him, Nina," said
Jane.
" I'm afraid there's no hope for me," laughed Kane.
" I, for one, am too good for any use."
"Too good to be true," sniffed Nina.
300
" Or too true to be interesting," he added, below his
breath.
Nellie Pennington, having led her companions into deep
water, now turned and guided them into the shoals of thft
commonplace. Jane Loring's eyes and Phil Gallatin's had
met across the table. The act was unavoidable for they
sat directly opposite each other and, though each looked
away at once, the current established, brief as it was, was
burdened with meaning. Gallatin read a hundred things,
but love was not one of them. Jane read a hundred things
any one of which might have been love, but, as far as she
knew, was not. Gallatin caught the end of a gaze she had
given him while he was talking to Nina, and he fancied it
to be a kind of indignant curiosity, not in the slightest de-
gree related to the scorn of her surprise at being detected
in the midst of her inspection. Gallatin found her face
thinner, which made her eyes seem larger and the shadows
under them deeper. He had seen fresh young beauty such
as hers break and fade during one season in New York,
but it shocked him a little to find these marks so evident
in so short a time. It was as though a year, two years
even, had been crowded into the few weeks since he had
seen her last, as though she had lived at high tension,
letting nothing escape her that could add to the sum of
experience. Her eyes sparkled, and on her cheeks was a
patch of red clearly defined, like rouge, but not rouge, for
it came and went with her humor. She had grown older,
more intense, more fragile, her features more clearly
carved, more refined and except for the hard little
shadows at the corners of her lips more spiritual.
He glanced at the heavy, bovine face of Coley Van
Duyn beside her and wondered. Coley had been drinking
freely and his face was flushed, his laugh open-mouthed
and louder than Nellie Pennington's humor seemed to war-
301
rant. How could she? God! How could she do it?
A blind rage came upon Gallatin, a sudden wave of
intolerance and rebellion, and he clenched his fists beneath
the table. This man drank as much as he liked and when
he pleased. He was the club glutton. He ate immoder-
ately and drank immoderately, because he liked to do it,
and because that was his notion of comfort. Not, as had
been the case with Gallatin, because he had not been able
to live without it. Van Duyn could stop drinking when
he liked, when he had had enough, when he didn't want
any more. He drank for the mere pleasure of drinking.
Gallatin bit his lip and stared at his untouched wine
glasses. Pleasure? With Gallatin it had been no pleas-
ure. It had been a medicine, a desperate remedy for a
desperate pain, a poisonous medicine which cured and
killed at the same time.
" Phil ! " Nina's voice sounded suddenly at his ear.
"Are you ill?"
" Not in the least."
" You haven't listened to a word I've been saying, and
it was so interesting."
He laughed.
" What were you thinking of ? "
"My sins."
" Then I don't wonder that you looked so badly."
But it was clear that she understood him, for after a
short silence she spoke of other things.
The dinner having progressed to the salad course,
visiting was in order, and the guests sauntered from table
to table, exchanging chairs and partners. Jane Loring
was one of the first to take advantage of this opportunity
to escape, and found a seat at Honora Ledyard's table
between Bibby Worthington and Percy Endicott.
Nellie Pennington watched her departure calmly, for
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DEEP WATER
she had learned what she had set out to learn. All women,
no matter how youthful, are clever at dissimulation, but
the art being common to all women, deceives none. And
Jane, skillful though she had been in hiding her thoughts
from Gallatin, deceived neither Nellie Pennington nor
Nina Jaffray.
Dinner over, Nellie Pennington followed the crowd to
the gunroom. The married set were already at their
auction and somebody beckoned to her to make a four,
but she refused. On this night she had a mission. She
wandered from group to group, keeping one eye on Jane
and the other on Phil, until the music began, when with
one accord, all but the most devoted of the bridge-players
returned to the hall, from which the furniture had been
cleared, and where the polished wax surface shone invit-
ingly. Mrs. Pennington waited until the waltz was well
under way and saw Jane Loring circling the room safely
with Larry Kane, when she went into the library alone.
Her thought had crystallized into a definite plan.
It was at the end of the third dance when Jane, on the
arm of Percy Endicott was on her way to the terrace for
a breath of air, that Bibby Worthington slipped a note
into her fingers. She excused herself and took it to the
nearest electric bulb. She knew the handwriting at once.
It was in Nina Jaffray's picturesque scrawl.
" Jane, dear," it ran. " I must see you for a moment
about something which concerns you intimately. Meet me
at twelve by the fountain in the loggia of the tennis court.
" NINA."
Jane turned the note over and re-read it; then with
quick scorn, tore it into tiny pieces and scattered them
into the bushes. The impudence of her! She had given
Nina credit for better taste. What right had she to
303
THE SILENT BATTLE
intrude again in Jane's private affairs when she must
know how little her offices were appreciated? And yet,
what was this she had to say? Something that concerned
Jane intimately? What could that be unless
Coleman Van Duyn appeared and claimed the next
dance, which he begged that she would sit out. Jane
agreed because it would give her a chance to think. There
was little real exertion required in talking to Coley.
What could Nina want to tell her? And where did
she say? In the loggia of the tennis court at twelve. It
must be almost that now.
At five minutes of twelve Nellie Pennington handed
Gallatin a note.
" From Nina," she whispered. " It's really outra-
geous, Phil, the way you're flirting with that trusting
child. I'm sure you ought to be ashamed of yourself."
The tennis court was at the far end of the long house.
It was reached by passing first a succession of rooms
which made up the main building, into the conservatory,
by the swimming-pool and loggia. The loggia was a red-
tiled portico, enclosed in glass during the winter, in the
center of which was a fountain surrounded by a circular
marble bench, all filched from an old Etruscan villa. To-
night it was unlighted except by the glow from the bronze
Japanese lamps in the conservatory; an ideal spot for a
tryst, so far removed from the main body of the house
and so cool in winter that it was seldom used except as a
promenade or as a haven by those purposely belated. Gal-
latin, the scrap of paper in his fingers, strolled through
the deserted halls, smoking thoughtfully. Nina Jaffray
was beginning to grate just a little on his neTves. He
had no idea what she wanted of him and he didn't much
care.
He only knew that it was almost time for him to make
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DEEP WATER
his meaning clear to her in terms which might not be mis-
understood. As he entered the obscurity of the loggia, he
saw the head and shoulders of a figure in white above the
back of the stone bench.
" You wanted to see me? " he said.
At the sound of his voice, the figure rose, stood poised
Breathless, and he saw that it was not Nina.
" I? " Jane's voice answered.
He stopped and the cigarette slipped from his fingers.
" I I beg pardon. I was told that "
" That / wanted to see you ? " she broke in scorn-
fully.
" No. Not you " he replied, still puzzled.
" There has been a mistake, Mr. Gallatin. I do not
want to see you. If you'll excuse me "
She made a movement to go, but Gallatin stood in the
aperture, the only avenue of escape, and did not move.
His hands were at his sides, his head bent forward, his
eyes gazing into the pool.
" Wait " he muttered, as though to himself. " Don't
go yet. I've something to say just a word it will not
take a moment. Will you listen? "
" I suppose I I must," she stammered.
" I hear " he began painfully, " that it's true that
you're going to marry Mr. Van Duyn."
" And what if it is ? " she flashed at him.
" Nothing except that I hope you'll be happy. I
wish you "
" Thanks," dryly. " When I'm ready for the good
wishes of of anybody, I'll ask for them. At present
will you let me pass, please? "
" Yes in a moment. I thought perhaps you might
be willing to tell me whether it's true, the report of your
engagement? "
305
THE SILENT BATTLE
" I can't see how that can be any interest of yours."
" Only the interest of one you once cared for and
who "
" Mr. Gallatin, I forbid it," she said hurriedly.
" Would you be so unmanly as to take advantage of your
position here? Isn't it enough that I no longer care to
know you, that I prefer to choose my own friends? " jt
"Will you answer my question?" he repeated dog-
gedly.
" No. You have no right to question me."
" I'm assuming the right. Your memory of the
past "
" There is no past. It was the dream of a silly child
in another world where men were honest and women clean.
I've grown older, Mr. Gallatin."
" Yes, but not in mercy, not in compassion, not in.
charity."
" Speak of virtue before you speak of mercy, of pride
before compassion, of decency before charity if you
can," she added contemptuously.
" You're cruel," he muttered, " horribly so."
"I'm wiser than I was. The world has done me that
service. And if cruelty is the price of wisdom, I'll pay
it. Baseness, meanness, improbity in business or in morals
no longer surprise me. They're woven into the tissue of
life. I can abominate the conditions that cause them,
but they are the world. And, until I choose to live alone,
I must accept them even if I despise the men and women
who practice them, Mr. Gallatin."
"And you call this wisdom? This disbelief in every-
thing in everybody, this threadbare creed of the jaded
women of the world? "
" Call it what you like. Neither your opinions nor
your principles (or the lack of them) mean anything to
306
DEEP WATER
me. If I had known you were here I should not have come
to-night. I pray that we may never meet again."
He stood silent a long moment, searching her face with
his eyes. She was so cold, so white and wraithlike, and her
voice was so strange, so impersonal, that he was almost
ready to believe that she was some one else. It was the
voice of a woman without a soul a calm, ruthless voice
which sought to wound, to injure or destroy. It had
been on his lips to speak of the past, to translate into the
words the pain at his heart. He had been ready to take
one step forward, to seize her in his arms and compel her
by the might of his tenderness to return the love that he
bore her. If he had done so then, perh&ps fortune would
have favored him have favored them both; for in the
hour of their greatest intolerance women are sometimes
most vulnerable. But he could not. Her words chilled
him to insensibility, scourged his pride and made him dumb
and unyielding.
" If that is your wish," he said quietly, " I will do my
best to respect it. I'd like you to remember one thing,
though, and that is that this meeting was not of my seek-
ing. If I've detained you, it was with the hope that per-
haps you might be willing to listen to the truth, io learn
what a dreadful mistake you have made, of the horrible
wrong you have done "
"To you?"
" No," sternly. " To Nina Jaffray. Think what you
like of me," he went on with sudden passion. " It doesn't
matter. You can't make a new pain sharper than the
old one. But you've got to do justice to her."
" What is the use, Mr. Gallatin? "
" It's a lie that they've told, a cruel lie, as you'll learn
some day when it will be too late to repair the wrong
you've done."
307
THE SILENT BATTLE
" I don't believe that it was a lie, Mr. Gallatin. A lie
will not persist against odds. This does. You've done
your duty. Now please let me go."
" Not yet. You needn't be afraid of me."
" Let me pass."
" In a moment when you listen. You must. Nina
Jaffray is blameless. She would not deny such a story.
It would demean her to deny it as it demeans me."
" It does demean you," she broke in pitilessly, " as
other things have demeaned you. Shame, Mr. Gallatin!
Do you think I could believe the word of a man who seeks
revenge for a woman's indifference? Who finding her in-
vulnerable goes to the ends of his resources to attack
the members of her family? Trying by methods known
only to himself and those of his kind to hinder the suc-
cess of those more diligent than himself, to smirch the good
name of an honest man, to obtain money
" Stop," cried Gallatin hoarsely, and in spite of her-
self she obeyed. For he was leaning forward toward her,
the long fingers of one hand trembling before him.
" You've gone almost too far, Miss Loring," he whis-
pered. " You are talking about things of which you know-
nothing. I will not speak of that, nor shall you, for what-
ever our relations have been or are now, nothing in them
justifies that insult. Time will prove the right or the
wrong of the matter between Henry K. Loring and me as
time will prove the right and the wrong to his daughter.
I ask nothing of her now, nor ever shall, not even a
thought. The girl I am thinking of was gentle, kind, sin-
cere. She looked with the eyes of compassion, the far-
seeing gaze of innocence unclouded by bitterness or doubt.
I gave her all that was best in me, all that was honest,
all that was true, and in return she gave me courage, pur-
pose, resolution. I loved her for herself, because she was
308
DEEP WATER
herself, but more for the things she represented purity,
nobility, strength which I drew from her like an inspira-
tion. It was to her that I owed the will to conquer my-
self, the purpose to win back my self-respect. I thanked
God for her then and I'm thankful now, but I'm more
thankful that I'm no longer dependent on her."
Jane had sunk on the bench again, her head bent and
a sound came from her lips. But he did not hear it.
" I do not need her now," he went on quietly. " What
she was is only a memory; what she is, only a regret. I
shall live without her. I shall live without any woman,
for no woman could ever be to me what that memory Is.
I love it passionately, reverently, madly, tenderly, and will
be true to it, as I have always been. And, if ever the
moment comes when the woman that girl has grown to
be looks into the past, let her remember that love knows
not doubt or bitterness, that it lives upon itself, is sufficient
unto itself and that, whatever happens, is faithful until
death."
He stopped and stepped aside.
" I have finished, Miss Loring. Now go ! "
The peremptory note startled her and she straightened
and slowly rose. His head was bowed but his finger
pointed toward the door of the conservatory. As she
passed him she hesitated as though about to speak, and
then slowly raising her head walked past him and dis-
appeared.
309
XXVI
BIG BUSINESS
TOOKER fidgeted uneasily with the papers on the
junior partner's desk, moving to the safe in the
main office and back again, bringing bundles of
(documents which he disposed in an orderly row where Mr.
Gallatin could put his hands on them. Eleven o'clock
was the hour set for the conference between Henry K.
Loring and Philip Gallatin. Mr. Leuppold had written
last week that Mr. Loring had agreed to a conference
and asked Mr. Gallatin to come to his, Mr. Leuppold's,
private office at a given time. Gallatin had agreed to
the day and hour named, but politely insisted that Mr.
Leuppold and Mr. Loring come to his office. It would
have made no difference in the result, of course, but Gal-
latin had reasons of his own.
At ten o'clock Philip Gallatin came in and read his
mail. He had returned yesterday from his southern
visit, and in the afternoon had gone over, with Mr. Kenyon
and Mr. Hood, the details of the case. The matter had
been discussed freely, but it was clear to Tooker, who
had been present, that the other partners had been able
to add nothing but their approval to the work which
Gallatin had done.
His mail finished, Gallatin took up the other papers
on his desk and scrutinized them carefully, after which
he glanced at his watch and pressed the button for the
chief clerk.
310
BIG BUSINESS
" There has been no message from Mr. Leuppold,
v Tooker? " he asked.
" Nothing."
Gallatin smiled. " That's good. I was figuring on
a slight chance that they might want more time, and ask
a postponement."
" I had thought of that."
" It wouldn't help them. I guess they've found that
out."
" I hope so. But I shouldn't take any chances."
" No, I won't," he returned grimly. And then, " Mr.
Markham is here, isn't he? "
" Yes. He came early. I've shown him into Mr.
Kenyon's office as you directed."
" Very good, Tooker. And I will want you, so please
idon't go out."
" I'm not going out this morning, Mr. Gallatin," said
Tooker, with a grin.
After the chief clerk had disappeared Gallatin walked
to the window where he stood for a long while with his
hands behind his back, looking out toward the Jersey
shore. His thoughts were not pleasant ones. The words
of Jane's recrimination were still ringing in his ears. It
was Henry Loring, of course, who had put all that into
her head, but he blamed her for the readiness with which
she had been willing to condemn him from the first, the
facility with which she had been able to turn from him to
another.
His idyl had passed.
He turned into the room, brows lowering and jaws set,
and went to his desk again. There, at a few moments
past eleven, Tooker brought in word that Mr. Leuppold
and Mr. Loring were waiting to see him.
" Tell them to wait in the outer office, Tooker," he
311
said with a gleam in his eye, " that I will be at liberty in a
few moments. I'll ring for you."
When Tooker had gone, Gallatin sat down again,
glanced at his watch, then took up the morning paper,
which he had not yet opened, and read, smiling. It
amused him to think of Henry K. Loring sitting in the
outer office, wasting time worth a hundred dollars a min-
ute. It amused him so much that he dropped the paper,
put his feet up on his desk, and lit a cigarette, to enjoj
the situation more thoroughly. Leuppold, too, his suavity
slowly yielding to his impatience, would be twisting his
watch-fob by now or tapping his fat fingers on his legs,
while he waited, his ease of mind little improved by the
delay.
Gallatin's smile diminished with his cigarette, and at
last he looked at his watch and put his feet on the floor
and rang for the chief clerk.
" You may show those gentlemen in, Tooker," he said
quietly.
Tooker glanced at the ashes of the cigarette, picked
up the newspaper and put it on a chair in the corner,
then laid one or two documents obtrusively open, on Mr.
Gallatin's desk. Phil watched him with a smile. Tooker
was a thoughtful and cautious soul.
But he was reading the nearest document intently
when Loring and Leuppold entered. He turned in his
chair rose and bowed.
" You've met Mr. Loring, Mr. Gallatin? " said Leup-
pold.
Loring dropped his chin abruptly the fraction of an
inch, peering keenly about, his lips drawn in a thin and
unpleasant smile. Phil Gallatin indicated a chair at one
end of the table, into which Loring stiffly sat, with one
arm on the table, his bull-neck thrust forward, peering
312
BIG BUSINESS
steadily at the younger man, watching every movement,
studying his face as though trying by the intentness of
his gaze to solve the question as to whether this curiously
inconsistent young man was a menace or merely a nui-
sance.
Gallatin laid some papers upon the table, took some
others from Tooker and moved his desk chair to the table.
If he felt Loring's scrutiny, his calm demeanor gave no
sign of it, for after a few commonplaces he began ad-
dressing his remarks directly to Mr. Leuppold's client.
" I don't propose to take up a great deal of your
time, gentlemen," he began, " and I think I can state
my position in a very few moments." He took out his
watch and looked at it. " About twenty minutes, I think.
The facts, as you both know, are these: John- Sanborn,
representing the minority stockholders of the Sanborn
Mining Company, filed an injunction against the President
and Board of Directors of the Sanborn Mining Company
to prevent the sale of its properties and interests to the
Pequot Coal Company. This injunction was lost in the
Supreme Court and was appealed to the Appellate Court,
when the case came into my hands. That appeal is pend-
ing. That is a correct statement, is it not? "
" It is," said Leuppold blandly, while Loring nodded
his head.
" The sale has, therefore, not been consummated and
cannot be consummated until the higher court has affirmed
the decision of the lower one or reversed it."
" That is also true, Mr. Gallatin," said Leuppold.
" Proceed, sir."
Gallatin hesitated, his brows drew together and his
voice took a deeper note.
" This case, Mr. Leuppold, is one which involves not
only large issues but large principles. The Sanborn Min-
313
THE SILENT BATTLE
ing Company owns the most valuable coal properties, with
the possible exception of those owned by the Pequot Coal
Company, in the State of Pennsylvania, and until 1909 was
doing an enormous business with the trade centers of the
East, working at full capacity and employing an army of
men in getting its coal to market. Its only rival in pro-
duction was the Pequot Coal Company, of which Mr. Lo-
ring, as he has admitted, controls the majority of the
stock.
" In the summer of 1909, conditions changed. The
Lehigh and Pottsville Railroad Company found it impos-
sible to furnish cars to the Sanborn mines. I have copies
of the correspondence, relating to the matter: repeated
letters of request on the part of the Sanborn Company and
excuses on the part of the railroad company, as well as
frequent promises which were never fulfilled."
" What has that to do with the pending suit? " asked
Leuppold carelessly, with an effective shrug of his
shoulder.
" I'm coming to that, Mr. Leuppold. And I ask for
your patience," said Gallatin. " This failure of the rail-
road company to provide facilities for the shipment of
the coal of the Sanborn Mines," he continued, " is all the
more remarkable when it is known that while this very
correspondence was going on, its sidings between Phillips-
ville and Williamstown were full of empty cars, and when
it is also known that the Pequot Coal Company was work-
ing on full time and shipping to New York City, alone,
one hundred and fifty cars of coal a day."
" We had contracts with the railroad," snapped Lo-
ring. " We forced them to provide for us."
" So had the Sanborn Company contracts, Mr. Lo~
ring," said Gallatin.
" Really ! " sneered Loring.
314
BIG BUSINESS
Tooker quickly abstracted a paper from a sheaf and
handed it to Gallatin.
" Read for yourself."
The sneer on Loring's lips faded, and his eyes opened
wider as he read. It was not a copy, but the contract
itself.
" I have also a volume of evidence about the empty
cars which verifies my statement. Would you care to look
over it? "
" No. Go on," growled Loring.
" Gentlemen," Gallatin went on, enunciating his words
with great distinctness. " This was discrimination of a
kind which at this time is not popular with the Goyern-
ment of the United States."
" But if you'll permit me, Mr. Gallatin," Leuppold's
suave voice broke in, " what has this to do with the San-
born injunction suit? And how can my client be held in
any way responsible for the action of the Lehigh and
Pottsville Railroad Company for its failure to fulfill its
contracts to the Sanborn Company? "
Gallatin raised a protesting hand.
" I'm coming to that, Mr. Leuppold. In a moment, sir.
The conditions I have already mentioned have forced the
Sanborn Company practically to shut down. Coal is being
mined and a few cars a day are shipped, but, as you gen-
tlemen are well aware, dividends have been passed for two
years and the value of the stock has depreciated. This
much for the conditions which have caused that deprecia-
tion. The Pequot Coal Company, taking advantage of the
low market value of the shares, has made an offer for the
property an offer, gentlemen, which as you both know,
represents not one-twentieth of the Sanborn Company's
holdings."
" I can't agree with that," put in Leuppold quickly.;
215
THE SILENT BATTLE
" It was a fair offer, accepted by the Board of Directors
of the Sanborn Company, Mr. Sanborn alone dissenting."
Gallatin arose and picked up a package wrapped in
rubber bands.
" I'm ready to talk about that Board of Directors
now, Mr. Leuppold," he said quietly, with his eyes on
Loring's face, " and I'm also ready to talk about the
Board of Directors of the Lehigh and Pottsville Railroad
Company."
Henry K. Loring's expression was immovable, but Mr.
Leuppold's fingers were already at his watch-fob.
" I'm going to lay my hand on the table, gentlemen,"
Gallatin went on with a quiet laugh. " I'm going to show
you all my cards and let them play themselves. I'm going
to prove to you so clearly that you can't doubt the accu-
racy of my information or the character of my evidence
that I am aware that Henry K. Loring has at the pres-
ent time not only the control of the stock of the Sanborn
Mining Company, but that he also controls a voting
majority of the stock of the Lehigh and Pottsville Rail-
road Company."
Leuppold laughed outright.
" Absurd, sir. Your statement is flattering to my
client, but I beg that you will confine your remarks to
the bounds of reason."
" I will to the bounds of reason, to the bounds of fact.
It's no laughing matter, Mr. Leuppold, as you'll discover
presently. I will not speak of Mr. Loring's connection
with the railroad for a moment. Perhaps, since this con-
ference has been called with especial reference to the in-
junction suit, the proof of Mr. Loring's majority
stock ownership in the Sanborn Company will be suffi-
cient."
" You can't prove it without manufactured evidence."
316
BIG BUSINESS
Gallatin flushed. " Call it what you like, it's here in
my possession. The majority stock of the Sanborn Min- 1
ing Company is now owned by Henry K. Loring, and has
been voted under cover for the benefit of the Pequot Coal
Company."
" That's a grave charge, Mr. Gallatin."
" So grave that I thought it fairer to Mr. Loring to
have him learn what I know, before bringing the matter
into court."
" You have proved nothing yet."
Gallatin opened some papers and laid them on the
table.
" I have here an affidavit of a former employee of Mr*
Loring which I propose to offer in evidence."
" Who? " growled Loring.
" One moment, please. I have also an abstract from
the books of the company with entries showing the pur-
chase of stock, the amounts, the price and the dates of
payment."
Leuppold leaned forward in his chair.
" Even you must know, Mr. Gallatin, that that's not
evidence."
" I'm well aware of that, but when the time comes, Mr.
Leuppold, I intend to call for the production of the
original books."
Leupoold raised a protesting hand and then said
craftily :
" Those books are lost, Mr. Gallatin."
Gallatin only smiled at him.
" Thanks for that information, Mr. Leuppold. For
that being the case, even you will admit that my copy
is admissible in secondary evidence."
Loring's quick glance caught Leuppold's. The point
was well taken. Leuppold covered his confusion with a
THE SILENT BATTLE
magnificent gesture and a resumption of his blandest
manner.
" How are you going to prove that these are copies
from the books ? " he asked easily.
" I will produce that evidence at the proper time."
" Produce it now "
" I will, if necessary."
" That is the weakness of your case, Mr. Gallatin ;
you can't produce it," he sneered.
Gallatin turned to the chief clerk and said : " The
checks, Tooker."
GaUatin removed some slips of paper from the en-
velope Tooker handed him, and held them carelessly in his
fingers, s that the two men, who were eying them eager-
ly, could see the name of the bank and the signature at
the lower right hand corner.
"Perhaps Mr. Loring will deny his own signature? "
he asked quietly. " These checks I hold are signed with
Mr. Loring's name, a signature with which we are all
familiar, and were given to Mr. Loring's brokers for the
purchase of Sanborn stock. I may add that the date
of entry on the books of the company in each case corre-
sponds with the date on the checks, as does the amount."
He stepped to Loring's side and held several of the
checks up just beyond his reach.
" That's not my signature," said Loring.
Gallatin handed the checks to Tooker.
" You're not convinced ? "
" No, It's a forgery ."
" Then I'll find other means of convincing ycu. Per-
haps, if I produced a man who saw you sign those
checks "
Loring had risen to his feet and spoke but one word.
It was the popular one for the infernal regions.
318
BIG BUSINESS
Gallatin smiled. And then to the chief clerk, " Tooker,
show Mr. Markham in, please."
The situation had gotten beyond the control of Mr.
Leuppold, who was completely nonplused by Mr. Galla-
tin's rapidity, succinctness and damnable accuracy; but
he made one desperate effort to regain his lost ground.
" Markham, a broken man, a drunkard, a gam-
bler "
" But once Mr. Loring's secretary," Gallatin broke
in significantly. " Wait, Mr. Leuppold."
In a moment Mr. Markham entered. He was a tall
man, with keen eyes, hawklike nose and a weak mouth.
As he entered Loring turned toward the door and the eyes
of the two men met, Loring's curious, the newcomer's
eager and unflinching.
" Mr. Markham," asked Gallatin, " do you kaow this
gentleman? "
" Yes. He is Henry K. Loring."
" Have you ever seen these checks ? "
" Yes. I drew them and saw Mr. Loring sign them."
"And this affidavit?"
" I wrote it."
" And this abstract of the books of the Sanborn Com-
pany? "
" I have seen it."
"Is it correct?"
" In every particular."
" All right. That will be all for the present. Will
you remain outside? "
" Wait, sir ! " Leuppold's voice rang out. " I haven't
finished with Mr. Markham yet."
" You'll have the opportunity of questioning him at
the proper time and place," said Gallatin smoothly.
" That will be all, Mr. Markham."
319
THE SILENT BATTLE
" I protest, Mr. Gallatin, against your methods of
conducting this meeting," said Leuppold, rising and ex-
tending a quavery arm. " You bring as your chief evi-
dence a man once in the employ of my client, a discredited
clerk, a man discharged for drunkenness, for incompe-
tence, for dishonesty."
" No for honesty, Mr. Leuppold," Gallatin broke in
hotly. " That was why he was discharged. He was too
honest to understand the ethics of big business and his
utility was at an end. So Mr. Loring let him go. That
was a mistake. He knew too much, Mr. Leuppold."
" You'll have a chance to prove what he knows, sir.
There won't be much difficulty in discrediting his testi-
mony '
" You're making a mistake, Mr. Leuppold," broke in
Gallatin, his voice now thundering. " The question here
isn't so much one of law as it is one of morals. That
injunction may be dissolved by the Court of Appeals ;
but I give you my word that, if you insist on carrying
through that sale of the Sanborn Mines to the Pequot Coal
Company, I propose to charge your client and the di-
rectors of the Sanborn Company with conspiracy, and
I'll convict them just as sure as the Lord made little
apples ! "
He dominated the situation and felt it in the short
hush that followed his concluding remarks, and in the
rapid revolution of Leuppold's watch charm. Loring had
sunk back in his chair, both of his great hands clasping
its arms, his gaze on Gallatin's face, critical but smiling.
What he saw there evidently brought a realization that
Mr. Gallatin held the whip hand ; for as Leuppold began
speaking again, he moved one of his hands through the
air and rose.
" Wait ! " he said. He took two or three paces across
the room, between window and door and then stood, his
320
BIG BUSINESS
hands in his trousers pockets, fumbling at his keys. It
was at least five minutes before he spoke again. But
at last he stopped in front of Gallatin and looked at
him from head to toe, and suddenly to every one's sur-
prise, broke out into a loud laugh.
" Mr. Gallatin, you've beaten me."
Success had come so quickly and the end of the case
so suddenly that Gallatin looked at his adversary, not
certain whether to believe his own ears, and half suspecting
some kind of a ruse or trick, the art of which Henry K.
iLoring, as he knew, was past grand master, when he went
on again.
" I don't propose to ask you how you found Mr.
Markham out in Illinois, or to try and learn what your
methods were in getting together all this evidence. I
know it's there and that's enough. I did write those
checks and the abstracts from the books are doubtless
correct. I suppose," he laughed again, " your evidence
of my connection with the Lehigh and Pottsville is quite
tangible? "
" Quite tangible," repeated Gallatin, scarcely conceal-
ing a smile.
" Then all I have to say, sir, is that you are a very
extraordinary young man, a very useful young man to
your clients, a very disappointing one to your adver-
saries." And then turning to Leuppold: " You may con-
test, if you like, Mr. Leuppold. / won't. This case is
one for settlement."
Then he turned to Gallatin again, and offered his
huge hand, while the younger man, still doubtful, eyed
him keenly.
' You and I had words some time ago. I'm sorry for
them. Will you forgive me? "
There was no doubt about the genuineness of his con-
trition.
. 321
THE SILENT BATTLE
" Willingly, Mr. Loring," he said.
Their fingers clasped and their eyes met.
" I underestimated you, Mr. Gallatin," he went on
again slowly. " I don't often make a mistake in my
judgment of men, but I did of you. I'm a self-made
man and people will tell you I'm a little proud of the
job. But I'm not too proud to tell you that you've been
a little too clever for me. I know when I'm beaten and
I'm not afraid to say so. We'll fix this thing up. I don't
want all the coal in Pennsylvania. I ovrn sixty per cent,
of the Sanborn stock. Sanborn's crowd owns the rest.
I'll sell out twenty per cent, to some man agreed on and
we'll make him president."
" At the present market figure, Mr. Loring? " asked
Gallatin shrewdly.
Loring rubbed his head and smiled.
" We'll see about that," he muttered at last. But
there was a twinkle in his e3 T es as he asked. " How would
you like that job, Mr. Gallatin? "
Gallatin grinned.
" I'd take it, if I could get enough cars to make it
profitable."
" I reckon you can make it profitable enough, for
everybody," he growled jovially. "We've got to have
you in with us, and that's all there is about it. Will you
accept? "
" With Sanborn's consent, yes."
" We'll fix Sanborn, all right," he finished. " Come
to my office some time, Mr. Gallatin, I want to talk to
you."
Gallatin followed the two men to the elevator, while
Tooker, after the door was closed, moved from one leg
to the other in what he fondly believed to be a dance of
joy-
322
XXVII
MR. LORING REFLECTS
HENRY K. LORING sat back in his machine,
homeward bound, his head deep in the collar of his
overcoat, his eyes under their shaggy brows peer-
ing out of the windows of the limousine. His heavy hands,
one over the other, grasped the handle of his cane, which
stood upright between his firmly planted feet. He looked
out of the windows at the quickly changing scene, but his
eyes saw nothing. There was a frown at his brow, his
lips were drawn firmly together and a casual glance might
have lent to the belief that the great operator was
weighted with a more than usually heavy financial bur-
den. But a closer inspection would have shown a slight
upward twist of his lips and scarcely perceptible pucker-
ing of the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. For a man
whose business affairs had on that day been subjected
to the searching inquisition that Mr. Gallatin had put
them to, he seemed to be taking life rather good-naturedly.
To tell the truth he was thinking of the futile efforts
of the elder Leuppold in trying to stem the tide which
had set so strongly against him. He had gone over Mr.
Gallatin's evidence at the conference point by point, and
the hours had only confirmed him in the realization that
this young man, whom he had scorned, had given the oily
and ingenious Leuppold a very unpleasant morning; for
"Wriggle as Leuppold might, there had been no escaping
the young man's clear-headed statements, and the dan-
THE SILENT BATTLE
gerous nature of his evidence. Henry K. Loring was a
good fighter, a shrewd judge of men, and the thing that
most bothered him at the present moment was, not that
he had been obliged to compromise the Sanborn case,
but that he should have been so mistaken in the character
and abilities of Philip Gallatin. He couldn't understand
it at all, and it hurt his pride in his own judgment. Was
this sharp young man with the lean face, the keen eye
and the quick incisive tones of confidence in himself, was
this brilliant hard-working young lawyer who had been
clever enough to outwit Henry Loring at his own game,
was this Phil Gallatin, the club loafer, at whose name
men had wagged their heads or shrugged their shoulders
in pity or contempt? It didn't seem possible. There
was a mistake somewhere. Was this the young man
who ?
He sat straight up suddenly as the thought came to
him. By George ! This was Jane's young man ! The
fellow who had found Jane up in the woods ! Who had
followed her around and made love to her! The fellow
Jane had been in love with until he, Loring, had opened
her eyes and packed him out of the house about his
business. That was too bad. Loring was sorry about
that now. He had done Gallatin an injustice. Curious
that he should have made such a mistake. He would
have to rectify it somehow with Jane.
What was the trouble? Oh, yes, a woman that was
what had turned Jane against him. A woman well? It
wasn't the first time a man had been led off by a woman.
What of it? The Gallatin with whom he had recently
become acquainted wasn't the kind of a fellow who would
let any woman get the best of him. That was his own
affair, anyway. He, Loring, would have to talk to Jane.
Gallatin was all right. He had quit drinking, too, the
324.
MR. LORING REFLECTS
younger Leuppold had said. Any young fellow who
could work up a case like that under cover and drive a
man like Henry K. Loring to the wall was good enough
for him! That was the kind of a man he wanted for
Jane, just the kind of man to take up the game where
he would leave it and hold the great Loring interests to-
gether. What did Jane want anyhow? She had loved
Phil Gallatin once. Her mother had told him so. And
now she had settled on Coleman Van Duyn ! Hell !
He got down at his own door with a sudden resolve
to find out just how things stood with Jane and Coley
Van Duyn. Mrs. Loring had wanted that match. It
wasn't any of Loring's choosing. She had wanted an
old Dutch ancestry. She'd be getting it with Coley and
that was about all she would get. Jane had been ex-
pected back with the Ledyards from Virginia this morn-
ing. Perhaps it wasn't too late for her father to step
into the breach and repair the damage he had done.
In reply to his question of. the man in the hall, he
learned that Miss Loring had returned from the South
during the morning, but that she had been in her room
all day. Henry K. Loring climbed the marble stairs and
went along the landing to Mrs. Loring's room. He found
her lying on the divan, a handkerchief crumpled in her
hands, her face stained with tears. A look of resigna-
tion that was half a frown came into Loring's face. Like
many another man, big in his walks abroad, he lost some
stature in the presence of a tearful wife.
At his entrance she straightened and said irritably,
" I thought you were never coming."
" I was detained." He looked at his watch. " Aren't
you going to dress? "
" No. I'm going to have my dinner brought up."
"What's the matter?"
325
THE SILENT BATTLE
"Oh, what isn't the matter? Jane, of course!"
"Jane!"
" I can't make her out at all. She came back from
Warrenton this morning and went immediately to her
room. I went in this afternoon again. She was looking
miserably unhappy, and when I began talking to her she,
burst into tears "
" Nerves ? " he queried.
*' Oh, I don't know. She hasn't been herself for some
time. She's looking very badly."
" Yes, I noticed that. What do you think the trouble
is?"
Mrs. Loring sank back with a sigh.
" Oh, I don't know. I never did understand Jane, and
I don't suppose I ever shall. She says she isn't going
to anything this spring that she wants to go abroad,
away from everybody. And, finally, when I pressed her
she told me that she had given Coleman Van Duyn his
conge. Think of it ! "
The poor lady rattled on while Loring turned his
back and walked the length of the room to hide a smile
which grew suddenly at his lips. When she had finished
speaking, he returned and questioned again.
"Why did she change her mind? Do you know? "
" I don't think she has changed her mind. I don't
believe that she has ever cared for Mr. Van Duyn. It
was all a mask to hide her real feelings. I'm sure she
still loves that worthless Gallatin ! "
Loring's eyebrows lifted, his gaze roved and his lips
were quickly compressed. Then his brows tangled.
" What makes you think that ? " he asked.
" Everything makes me think it everything from
the manner in which she first confessed her love for him
to me to the curious way she has been treating Mr. Van
326
MR. LORING REFLECTS
Duyn. He spoke about the matter only last week. Poor
fellow! He's beginning to look very badly. Jane hasn't
treated him fairly."
" That depends. They were never engaged."
Mrs. Loring raised herself on one elbow, her eyes
searching her husband's face in surprise.
" There was an understanding."
" Between you and Van Duyn. Jane never con-
sented."
" Henry, I don't understand you. You've let this
thing go on without speaking. You approved
" No, I didn't approve," he said quickly. " I merely
acquiesced."
Mrs. Loring showed signs of inward agitation.
" Oh, I give her up. I've done the best I could. She
has behaved very badly and I I don't know what to
think of her." She began sobbing into her handkerchief
and renewed her familiar plaint. " I do the best I can
for her for you, but you're always going against me
both of you. I've tried so hard this winter kept going
when my nerves were on the ragged edge of collapse, just
because I thought it was my duty "
" There, there, Mother, don't be foolish," said Loring
soothingly. " Jane is young, too young to marry any-
way. She'll decide some day."
" No. I know her. She makes up her mind to a thing
and she'll cling to it until death. She's like you in that
way. She would rather die than change. I ought to
have realized that. If she can't marry Phil Gallatin, she
won't marry any one. Phil Gallatin," she cried, " the least
desirable young man in New York, a man without a
character, without friends, the last of a tainted stock,
a fortune hunter, dissolute "
He let her go on until she had exhausted both her
327
THE SILENT BATTLE
adjectives and her nerves while he listened thoughtfully,
and then asked,
" You're sure she still loves Mr. Gallatin ? "
" I've tried to believe that she would forget him that
she would learn to care for Mr. Van Duyn. But she
hasn't. She has never been the same girl since you told
her about that dreadful Jaffray woman. I'm afraid she'll
be sick really sick. But I can't do anything. What can
I do? " The poor lady looked up plaintively, but her
husband had walked to the window and was looking out
into the Avenue.
" Humph! " he grunted. " Lovesick, eh? There ought
to be a cure for that."
"What?"
" Let her marry him."
" Henry ! " Mrs. Loring sat bolt upright on her
couch, her eyes wide with incomprehension. " What do
you mean? "
" What I say," he returned calmly.
"That Jane should marry Phil Gallatin?"
He nodded.
" You're mad ! " she said, getting up and facing him.
" Stark mad ! When you learned about them, you told
me you'd rather see her dead than married to him."
" Now I'd rather see her married to him than dead.
It's simple enough. I've changed my mind."
" Am I taking leave of my senses or are you? "
" Neither, Mother," he went over to her, his huge
frame towering above her small body as his mind towered
over hers, and took her gently by the elbows. " I've made
a mistake. So have you. But it's not too late to mend
it. I say that if Jane wants Phil Gallatin, she shall have
him."
" No, no. What has happened, Henry? "
328
MR. LORING REFLECTS
" I've opened my eyes, that's all, or rather Gallatin
has opened them for me. I'm glad he did. And now I'm
going to open yours. Phil Gallatin is a full-sized man.
I found that out to-day a man, every inch of one. I
don't care about his past. / wasn't anything to brag
about when I was a kid, and you know that, too. I didn't
amount to a hill of beans until my father died and I went
up against it good and hard. I was down to bedrock,
as Phil Gallatin was, until I got kicked once too often,
and then I learned to kick back, and I've been kicking
back ever since. I don't care about Phil Gallatin's past.
That belongs to him. The only thing that matters about
the man Jane marries is his future. That's hers."
Loring put his hands in his pockets and walked up
and down the rug, his bulk, physical and mental, dom-
inating Mrs. Loring's tears.
" Listen to me. I've let you go on with your plans
for Jane and I haven't said anything, because I knew that
when the time came for Jane to marry, your plans
wouldn't amount to much and mine wouldn't either. Oh,
I've been looking on. I've been watching this Van Duyn
affair. I've never thought Jane would ever marry a
nonentity like Van Duyn. If I had thought so, I guess
I might have worried. But I didn't worry because I never
thought she did want to marry him. It seems I was
right," he chuckled.
He waited a moment as though expecting an inter-
ruption from his wife, but she made none, and only sat in
hopeless uncertainty listening dumbly.
" For all her inexperience, Jane has an old head,
Mother. This splendor we're living in, her success in
society, the flattery and compliments haven't changed her
any. And she's not going to let anybody make a fool
of her. She sees through people better than you do and
329
THE SILENT BATTLE
she doesn't make many mistakes. I ought to have known
she wouldn't have fallen in love with Phil Gallatin if there
hadn't been something to him. I'll give her credit for
that "
" What makes you think he's worthy of her? " Mrs.
Loring broke in. " You talk of his future. What future
can there be for a man with a habit ;
" Wait ! " he commanded. " As to that he's quit,
do you understand? Quit it altogether. I'm just as sure
of that as I am that Jane's judgment was better than
mine, so sure that I'm willing to stake Jane's future on
it. You needn't ask me why I know it, but I do. He's
made good with me and he's made good with himself."
And while she listened he told her of the events of the
morning which had resulted in the failure of his financial
project and of Gallatin's share in it.
" And is this a reason ? You're willing to forgive him
his sins, his evil reputation, and take him into your house
as the husband of your only child, because he stands in
the way of your making a lot of money? I don't under-
stand."
" There's a lot you don't understand. You and I
Idon't use the same kind of mental machinery. But I want
you to know that any boy of his age who's got the nerve
to tackle a big game the way he did that one and win
out against a man of my caliber is the kind of a young
man I want on my side. He's the kind of a young man
I've been looking for ever since I went into the coal busi-
ness, and I'm not going to let him go if I can help it."
" But his morals ! You must know what people say
about him, that he's "
" I don't care what they say about him," growled
Loring. " Half of the world is lying, and the other half
listening. I'm glad he isn't a willy-boy. It's the fellow
330
MR. LORING REFLECTS
who has to fight temptations that learns the meaning of
victory. There are no airholes in the steel that's been
through the blast, and that boy has been through the
blast. I can read it in his face. He couldn't square up
to me the way he did if there was any weakness in him.
He's suffered, but it hasn't hurt him any. He's found
himself. I'm going to help him. See here, Janet, I'm
getting older, and so are you. I've been thinking about
it some lately. I'm a pretty rich man and I'm going
to be richer. But do you think I want to turn the money
I leave over to a man like Coley Van Duyn or Dirwell
De Lancey to make ducks and drakes of? Have it turned
into an amusement fund for the further debauching of
debauched gentility? Make a Trust Fund of it to per-
petuate the Pink Tea? I reckon not. I haven't worked
all these years for nothing, and I'm going to see that
Jane doesn't make the mistakes of other rich men's chil-
dren. I don't think she wants to anyway. I've always
told her that she wouldn't find the man she's going to
marry walking up and down Fifth Avenue. The man
to keep my estate together has got to be made of different
stuff. I've found him. He's an ace that I dropped into
the discard by mistake, but I'm going to play him just
the same. I want him, and if Jane wants him, too, I'm
going to get him for her."
" I don't know what to think of you. I can't see
yet " Mrs. Loring wailed.
Loring stopped beside her and patted her on the
shoulder.
" Don't you worry, Janet. I know what I'm about.
You leave this to me. Is Jane in her room? I want to
see her."
" Yes," said Mrs. Loring in tones of resignation.
" She's there, but I don't think she'd see you, even if she
331
THE SILENT BATTLE
knew what you wanted to talk about. To-morrow, per-
haps."
Loring shrugged his massive shoulders. " Oh, all
right," he growled, and made his way to his own dressing-
room. He held the keys to the situation in his hand,
and manlike wanted to use them without delay, to unlock
the door that barred the way to happiness for Jane, to
act at once upon the inspiration that had come to him
and settle for all time the problem of the future. But
he took his wife's advice and postponed the talk with his
daughter, wondering at the ways of women. He dined
alone and went to his study early, sat at his desk and
wrote the following note to Philip Gallatin.
DEAR MR. GALLATIN:
Our meeting this morning was so brief and so public that
I was prevented from speaking to you as freely as I would
have liked. I've done you a wrong an injustice, and I want
to do what I can to set the matter right, with respect to your
future relations with me and with my family. I have already
done what I can and I am sure that both Mrs. Loring and
my daughter will gladly welcome you as a guest to our house
whenever you may call.
I hope this will be soon, Mr. Gallatin. I only wanted to
put myself on record with you that you may be assured that
there will be no further misunderstandings on your part of
our intentions toward you.
Very sincerely yours,
HENRY K. LORING.
The note written, he sealed it and rang for Hastings.
" Have this note delivered at once. Try the Cosmos
Club and, if Mr. Gallatin is not there, find him.'*
This burden off his broad shoulders, Loring smiled,
turned on his reading lamp, took some newly acquired
snuff boxes out of a cabinet and under his magnifying
332
MR. LORING REFLECTS
glass, proceeded to enjoy them. It was in the midst of
this pleasant occupation that some time later, he was
interrupted by the entrance of his daughter. She was
dressed in a pale blue lounging robe, and her bedroom
slippers made no sound on the heavy floor covering, but
the rustle of her draperies caused him to look up.
" Hello, Jane ! " he said, kissing her. " Glad to see
you, child. You slipped in like a ghost. Feeling any
better? "
" Oh, I'm all right," she said wearily. " Mother said
you wanted to see me."
Loring put down his magnifying glass and turned
toward her.
"Yes, I did. Natural, isn't it? I haven't had a
chance to for a month." He made her turn so that he
could look into her face. " You're not looking right.
Your eyes are big as saucers. What's the matter? Too
much gayety? "
" Yes, I think so, Daddy. I'm a little tired, that's all.
I need a rest."
Her father examined her in silence for a moment,
and then drew her down on a chair near him.
" Jane, I've been thinking about you lately. We've
all been so busy this winter, you and mother, with your
dances and the opera, and I with business, that I'm afraid
we've been drifting apart. I don't like it. You don't
ever come in here to see me the way 3 r ou used to."
" I haven't had time," she evaded.
" That isn't it, daughter. I know. It's something
else. Something has come between us. I've felt it and
I feel it still."
She opened her eyes wide and looked at him and then
looked away.
" That's the truth and you know it, daughter. Some-
333
THE SILENT BATTLE
thing has come between us. I've missed those talks with
O
you. They used to keep me in touch with the gentler side
of life, sort of humanized me somehow, made me a little
softer, a little gentler the next day. I've wanted you
often, Jane, but I didn't know how to say so. And so
I got along without you. You've never quite forgiven
me, Jane ? "
Jane was pulling at the laces of her tea-gown with
thumb and forefinger, but she didn't look up as she asked,
" Forgiven you for what, Daddy? "
" For coming between you and Phil Gallatin," he said
gently.
She started a trifle and then went on picking at the
lace on her frock.
" Oh, that," she said quietly. " You had to do that.
I'm glad you did."
" No," he interrupted. " You're not glad, Jane.
Neither am I. I did what I thought was my duty, but
it has made a difference with us both. I'm sorry."
" Sorry? Why? "
" Because it has made you unhappy and resentful."
" I'm not resentful."
" Yes. I've felt it. Even if I'd been justified, you
would still resent it."
"But you were justified, Daddy, weren't you?" she
asked.
She turned her gaze full on his face and the pain in
her eyes hurt him. He got up and walked the length of
the room before he replied.
" I did what I thought was right. I'd probably do
the same thing again under similar circumstances. I I
didn't think Mr. Gallatin the kind of man I wanted for
you."
She lay back in her chair and looked into the fire, but
334
MR. LORING REFLECTS
said nothing. Loving came close to her and laid his
hand on her shoulder.
"You loved him, Jane?"
She didn't reply.
" You still love him, daughter? "
Her head moved slowly from side to side.
" No," she muttered, stiflingly, " no, no."
Loring smiled down at the top of her head.
"Why should you deny it, Jane? What would you
say if I acknowledged that I had made a mistake in judg-
ment, that you were right after all, that Phil Gallatin
is not the man I thought him, that he's worthy in every
way of your regard, that of all the young men I've met
in New York in business or out of it, he is the one man
I would rather have marry my daughter? "
She had risen and was leaning toward him, pale and
trembling.
"What do you mean?" she whispered fearfully.
He told her.
" That case you spoke of ? "
" He beat me fairly and he beat me badly, so badly
that I can't afford to have him against me. I've taken
him into the business. I can't afford to be without him."
" Then what you said about him "
" I was fooled, child, completely fooled. We thought
he was a joke. We laughed at him and all the while he
was out West working, quietly, skillfully, diligently piling
up his evidence. He's made good, Jane, and I've told him
so. I've written him a note to-night, a note of apology
for my share in his unhappiness, telling him that I was
sorry for what had happened and telling him that he
would be a welcome visitor to my house "
" Daddy ! " Jane had straightened and now glanced
fearfully toward the door as though she expected to see
335
THE SILENT BATTLE
Phil Gallatin at any moment coming through the curtains.
" You had no right to do that ! I will not see him.
Whatever his business relations with you, you have no
right to force him on me. I have known for a long time
that he was clever, that he could make his way in the
world if he wanted to, but your acceptance of him changes
nothing with me."
" But you love him," he persisted.
" No, no," she protested. " I could never love a man
who had once been faithless never forgive him never
even in death. That a man is successful in the world is
all you men care about. Oh, I know you. Because he's
matched his brain against yours and beaten you, you
think he's a demigod; but that doesn't change the heart
in him, the lips that swear love eternal while they're kiss-
ing another "
" Lies ! " broke in Loring with a wave of his hand. " I
don't believe that story."
Jane paused and examined him calmly, struggling for
her control. When she spoke -her voice had sunk to
a trembling note scarcely above a whisper.
" Can you prove that story was a lie? "
"Prove it? No. But I believe it was."
" You didn't believe so once. Have you heard any-
thing to make you change your opinion? " she insisted.
He was tempted to lie but thought better of it, and
his hesitation cost him victory.
Jane turned toward the door. " I'm going away some-
where abroad, if you'll let me, away from here. I will
not see Mr. Gallatin ever. I despise him utterly."
She left her father standing in the middle of the room,
his mouth agape, and eyes staring at the door through
which she had disappeared. Keen as he was, there were
336
MR. LORING REFLECTS
still some things in the world, he discovered, about which
he needed information.
The next day Mr. Loring received a polite note from
Mr. Gallatin which still further mystified him. Mr. Gal-
latin thanked him for his kind expressions of good will
and expressed the intention of studying further to de-
serve them ; but hoped that Mr. Loring would comprehend
that reasons which it were better not to mention, would
make it impossible for him to take advantage of Mr.
Loring's personal kindness in his cordial invitation.
Henry Loring was on the point of tearing up the
note in disgust but thought better of it. Instead, with
a subtlety which showed that he had not yet lost the
knack of taking advantage of the lesser lessons of life,
he left it obtrusively upon the dressing table in Mrs. Lor-
ing's boudoir, where later, in her mother's absence, Jane
found it.
037
XXVIII
THE LODESTAR
APRIL dissolved in mist and rain and the flowers of
May were blossoming. Nellie Pennington, who had
not yet despaired, and Nina Jaffray, who had, were
driving in the Park in Mrs. Pennington's victoria. For two
months Mrs. Pennington had been paying Nina more than
usual attention. To begin with she liked her immensely
as she had always done. Nina's faults she believed to be
the inevitable result of her education and environment,
for Nina was the daughter of a Trust, and was its only
indulgence. The habit of getting what she wanted was
in her blood and she simply couldn't understand being
balked in anything. But Nina was beginning slowly and
with some difficulty to grasp the essentials of Philip Gal-
latin's character and the permanence of his reconstruc-
tion; and with the passage of time and event Nina had
a glimmering of the true caliber of his mind, all of which
brought out with unflattering definiteness her own frivol-
ity and gave a touch of farce-comedy, with which she had
in her heart been far from investing it, to her uncon-
ventional wooing.
Nellie Pennington understood her, and noted with no
little satisfaction the evidence of the chastening of her
spirit. She knew now beyond all doubt that had it not
been for Nina, the reconciliation of Jane and Phil Galla-
tin would have been effected.
She knew, too, that Nina had not played fair, and
guessed by what means Jane had been victimized. Indeed,
338
THE LODESTAR
Jane's indifference to Nina bore all tokens of intolerance,
the intolerance of the pure for the contaminated, the con-
temptuous pity of the innocent for the guilty. But Mrs.
Pennington had not lived in vain, and a talent for living
her own life according to an accepted code, had given her
a kindly insight into the lives of others. Whatever Nina's
faults, she had never merited Jane's pity or contempt.
Jane was a fool, of course, but so was Nina, each in her
own way a fool ; but of the two it now seemed that Nina
was the lesser. Nellie Pennington had already noticed
signs that Nina was tired of the game and knew that
if Larry Kane played his own trumps with care, he might
still win the odd trick, which was Nina. But as far as
Jane was concerned, Nellie also knew that Nina was ready
to die at her guns, for a dislike once born in Nina's breast
was not speedily dispelled.
Mrs. Pennington looked up at the obelisk as though
in the hope that some of the wisdom of its centuries might
suddenly be imparted to her. Then she asked, " Nina,
why don't you marry Larry Kane? "
Nina Jaffray smiled.
" And confess defeat? Why? "
" Better confess it now than later."
"Why confess it at all?"
" You'll have to some day. You're not going to marry
Phil, you know."
" No, I'm not going to marry Phil. I know that now.
I haven't proposed to him for at least a month and then
he was quite impolite rude, in fact." She sighed. " Oh,
I don't care, but I don't want Jane Loring to marry him."
" She's not likely to. She's as hopelessly stubborn as
you are."
Nellie Pennington waited a moment, and then with a
laugh, " Nina, you've enjoyed yourself immensely, haven't
339
THE SILENT BATTLE
you? Jane is such an innocent. I'd give worlds to know
what you said to her ! "
Nina laughed. " Would you? "
" Yes, do tell me."
" I will. It's very amusing. She expected me to lie,
of course. So I simply told her. the truth."
" And she believed " *
" The opposite."
" Of course."
Nellie Pennington laughed up at the passing tree tops.
" How clever of you, Nina ! You're wasting your
time single. A girl of your talents needs an atmosphere
in which to display them."
" And you suggest matrimony," said Nina scornfully.
" There's always your husband, you know."
" But Larry isn't an atmosphere. He's too tangible."
" All men are. It's their chief charm."
" H-m. I've never thought so. I shouldn't have
wanted to marry Phil if he had been tangible."
" Then suppose he had er accepted you ? "
Nina shrugged and crossed her knees.
" I should probably have hated him cordially."
The conversation changed, then lagged, and by the
time Nina's home was reached both women were silent,
Nina because she was bored, Nellie because she was
thinking.
" Good-by, dear," laughed Nina, as she got down at
her door. " Don't be surprised at anything you hear.
I'm quite desperate, so desperate that I may even take
your advice. You'll see me off at the pier, won't you ? "
Nellie Pennington nodded. She was quite sure that
it was better for everybody that Miss Jaffray should be
upon the other side of the water.
The week following, quite by chance she met Henry
340
THE LODESTAR
K. Loring one afternoon in the gallery at the Metropoli-
tan where the ceramics were. An emissary from the office
was opening the cases for him and with rare delight he
was examining their contents with a pocket glass. She
watched him for a while and when the great man re-
linquished the last piece of Lang-Yao sang de bceuf and
the case was closed and locked, she intercepted him and
led him off to a bench in a quiet corner where she laid
before him the result of a week of deliberation. He had
begun by being bored, for there was a case of the tea-dust
glazes which he had still planned to look over, but in
a moment he had warmed to her proposals and was dis-
cussing them with animation.
Yes, he had already planned to go to the Canadian
woods again this summer. Mrs. Loring wanted to go
abroad this year. Mrs. Loring didn't like the woods
unless he rented a permanent camp, the kind of place
that he and Jane despised. The plan had been discussed
and Jane had expressed a willingness to go. But at Mrs.
Loring's opposition the matter had been dropped. But
Loring had not given up the idea. It would do Jane a lot
of good, he admitted. Mrs. Pennington's was a great
plan, a brave plan, a beautiful plan, one that did credit to
her sympathies and one that must in the end be success-
ful. He would manage it. He would take the matter up
at once and arrange for the same guides and outfit he
had had last year. Would Mr. and Mrs. Pennington
come as his guests? Of course. Who else Mr. Worth-
ington and Colonel Broadhurst? But could Mr. Kenyon
be relied upon to do his share? Very well. He would
leave that to Mrs. Pennington.
The next afternoon, at Mrs. Pennington's request,
John Kenyon called at her house in Stuyvesant Square,
and his share in the arrangement was explained to him.
341
\
THE SILENT BATTLE
He was willing to do anything for Phil Gallatin's happi-
ness that he could, of course, but it amused him to learn
how the agreeable lady had taken that willingness for
granted, and how she waved aside the difficulties which, as
Kenyon suggested, might be encountered. Phil might have
other plans. He could be obstinate at times. It might
not be easy, either, to get Phil's old guide for the pil-
grimage. He needed a rest himself, and would go with
Phil himself, if by doing so he could be of any assistance.
It was now the first week in May. He would see Phil
and report in a few days.
It was the next morning at the office when Kenyon
broached the matter to his young partner. He was sur-
prised that Phil fell in with the plan at once.
" Funny," said Phil. " I was thinking of that yes-
terday. I am tired. The woods will do me a lot of good,
but do you think that Hood can get along without us un-
til August?"
" We'll manage in some way. You deserve a rest, and
I'm going to take one whether I deserve it or not. Could
you get that guide you had last year, what's his name
Joe ? "
" Keegon. I could try. We'd need two, but Joe can
get another man. I have the address. I'll write to-day."
Gallatin got up and walked across the room to the
door, where he stopped.
" I suppose I can fix matters with Mr. Loring "
" Yes, I think so," replied Kenyon guardedly. " But
you'd better be sure of it. He's coming here to-morrow,
isn't he?"
Gallatin nodded gravely, and then thoughtfully went
out.
That night John Kenyon dutifully reported in Stuy-
vesant Square. Mr. Loring also dutifully reported there,
THE LODESTAR
and the three persons completed the details of the con-
spiracy.
So it happened that toward the middle of June, Phil
Gallatin and John Kenyon reached the " jumping-off
place" in the Canadian wilds. No two "jumping-off
places " are alike, but this one consisted of three or four
frame dwellings and a store, all squatted on the high
bank of a small river, which came crystal-clear from the
mystery of the deep woods above. John Kenyon got
down from the stage that had driven them the ten miles
from the nearest railroad station and stood on the plank
walk in front of the store, a touch of color in his yellow
cheeks, sniffing eagerly at the smell of the pine balsam.
Gallatin glanced around at the familiar scene. Nothing
was changed the canoes drawn up along the bank, the
black setter dog, the Indian packers lounging in the shade,
the smell of their black tobacco, and the cool welcome of
the trader who came out of the store to greet them.
Joe Keegon and another Indian, whose name turned
out to be Charlie Knapp, got the valises out of the wagon.
Gallatin offered Joe his hand, and the Indian took it
with the steady-eyed taciturnity of the wilderness peo-
ple. Joe was no waster of words or of emotion. He led
the way into the store of the trader, and they went over
the outfit together blankets, ammunition, tea, pork, flour,
tents, and all the rest of it, while John Kenyon sat on a
flour barrel, swinging his legs, smoking a corncob pipe and
listening.
That night, after Phil had turned in, he sent a letter
and a telegram to a Canadian address and gave them to
the teamster with some money. Then he, too, went to bed
dreaming of Arcadia.
They had been in the woods for three weeks now.
343
THE SILENT BATTLE
They weren't traveling as light as Phil had done the year
before and the outfit included two canoes, well loaded.
So they went slowly northward by easy stages, fishing the
small streams and camping early. Gallatin had at first
been in some doubt as to his partner's physical fitness for
severe work, but he soon found that he need have given
himself no concern, for with every day a year seemed to
be slipping away from John Kenyon, who insisted on tak-
ing his share of the burdens with a will that set Phil Gal-
latin's mind at rest. And as they went farther into the
wilderness, they made almost camp for camp the ones
that Phil had made the year before. John Kenyon had
hoped that Phil would take him into the Kawagama coun-
try. He wanted very much to see that waterfall on the
south fork of the Birch River that Phil had spoken of.
Kenyon had an eye for the beautiful.
For some time he had been wondering what course of
action he would take if Phil refused to fall in with his
plans, and had already begun to think that it was time
to take Joe into his confidence; but he soon found that
subterfuge was unnecessary, for Gallatin was directing
their course with an unerring definiteness to his own
farthest camp among the hills. John Kenyon guessed
something of what was passing in the mind of the younger
man, and over the camp-fire watched him furtively. The
sun and wind had tanned him and the vigorous exercise
had brought an appetite that had filled the hollows of his
cheeks ; but in spite of the glow of health and youth and
the delight of their old friendship, a shadow still hung
in Phil Gallatin's eyes, which even the joy of the present
could not dispel. Kenyon smoked quietly and asked sub-
tle questions about their further pilgrimage.
" To-morrow we'll reach the permanent camp, eh,
Joe? " said Gallatin.
344
THE LODESTAR
Keegon nodded.
" We'll stay there for a while fish and explore."
As the time approached for his denouement, Ken-
yon had a guilty sense of intrusion which tempered his
delight in the possible success of the venture. But he re-
membered that he had had little to do in shaping the
course of events or the direction of their voyage, except
to modify the speed of their journeys so that Phil might
reach the spot intended at the appointed time. Phil
seemed drawn forward as though by a lodestar to his
destination, as though some force greater than his own
will was impelling him.
Kenyon had taken pains to keep a record by the cal-
endar. It was the twenty-eighth of June. The next day
Kenyon changed places with Phil and went in Joe's canoe,
when he took the old Indian into his confidence,
" We will camp to-night. To-morrow Phi] will -want
to go fishing alone. You must keep him in camp until the
next day. Then you must go with him in the morning,
and lead him to the camp in the hills where the deer was
killed. Comprenez? "
Joe had learned to understand this grave, quiet man
from the city, who did his share of the work and who
never complained, and he recognized, by its contrast to
this docility and willingness, the sudden voice of author-
ity. He nodded.
" A'right," he said, with a nod. " I take heem."
Joe's loquacity was flattering. It was the first time
on their pilgrimage that Kenyon had heard Joe utter
more than one word at a time.
The woods had seemed so vast, so interminable that
Kenyon had often wondered whether it would be possible
to find a spot so lacking in identity as the one they were
seeking. But Joe's nod and smile completely reassured
345
THE SILENT BATTLE
him. In his unfamiliarity with the wilderness he had for-
gotten that here was Joe Keegon's city, its trails, portages
and streams as clearly mapped in his mind as the streets
of John Kenyon's New York. The Indian would find the
place where the deer was killed. Kenyon breathed a sigh
of relief. The wheel of Destiny was spinning now and
Kenyon had nothing to do but sit and watch. He had
done his share.
That night there was much to do, but Keegon seemed
in no hurry. When Gallatin, who seemed tireless was for
making a permanent camp at once, Joe shook his head
and went on cleaning fish.
"To-morrow," he said.
When the morrow came, Gallatin was off in the un-
derbrush hunting firewood before the others were awake.
From his place by the fire Joe watched him lazily.
" Aren't you going to get to work, Joe? "
" Soon," the Indian grunted, but made no movement
to get up.
"I want to fish."
" To-morrow."
"Why not to-day?"
" Make camp."
" It won't take all day to make camp."
" Rest," said Joe. And that was all that Gallatin
could get out of him, so he said no more, for he knew by
experience that when Joe's mind had decided a ques-
tion of policy, mere words made no impression on him.
John Kenyon listened from the flap of the tent, with
a sleepy eye on the rising sun.
" Don't try to combat the forces of nature, my son,"
he laughed. " Joe's right ! I for one am going to take
things easy." And he rolled himself in his blanket, sank
back on his balsam couch and closed his eyes again.
346
THE LODESTAR
There was nothing for Phil but to bow to the in-
evitable. That day he worked harder even than the
guides and it seemed to John Kenyon that some inward
force was driving him at the top of his bent. He spoke
little, laughed not at all and late in the afternoon went
off upstream alone with his rod and creel, returning later
gloomy and morose.
" No fish," said Joe, looking at the empty creel.
" Fish to-morrow ! "
Joe actually smiled and Gallatin laughed in spite of
himself.
" Beeg fish to-morrow," repeated Joe. " I show
urn."
The next day Kenyon stayed in camp with Charlie
Knapp, and watched Phil's departure upstream. Joe
had full instructions and as he followed Gallatin's broad
shoulders into the brush he turned toward the fire and
nodded to Kenyon. There was a pact between them and
Kenyon understood.
The sun was high before Joe left the stream and cut
into the underbrush. His employer hadn't even taken his
rod from its case, and his creel was empty. Early in the
morning he had asked his guide to take him to the little
stream where the deer was killed, and he followed the swift
noiseless steps of the old Indian, his shoulders bent, his
eyes peering through the thicket in search of landmarks.
It was midday before the two men reached the familiar
water and Phil identified the two bowlders above his old
camping-place. Here Keegon halted, eying the pool
below.
Fish," said he.
Gallatin fingered at the fastenings of his rod case,
looking downstream, while Joe sat on a rock and munched
a biscuit.
347
THE SILENT BATTLE
" I'm going downstream, Joe. You follow."
The Indian nodded and Gallatin moved down among
the rocks in the bed of the stream. Pools invited him,
but he did not fish. He had not even jointed his rod.
He was moving rapidly now, like a man with a mission, a
mission with which fishing had nothing in common, splash-
ing through the shallow water, jumping from rock to
rock, or where the going was good along the shore,
through the underbrush. There was a trail to follow
now, a faint trail scarcely defined, but in which he saw
the faint marks of last year's footprints. His own they
must be, heavy from the weight of the deer he had car-
ried through the imlB and wet. They were the symbols
of his regeneration. Since then he had brought other
burdens to camp and had thrown them at her feet, for
what ?
Later on, in a moist spot, he stopped and peered at the
ground curiously. Other footprints had emerged from
somewhere and joined his own, fresh footprints, one made
by the in-turned toe of an Indian, the other smaller, the
heel of which cut deep into the mud and moss. He bent
forward following them eagerly. What could a woman
be doing here?
Suddenly Gallatin straightened and sniffed the air.
The smoke of a camp fire! The smell of cooking fish!
Some one had preceded him. He moved forward cau-
tiously, his heart beating with suppressed excitement, his
mind for the first time aware that unusual impulses had
dominated him all the morning. He also knew that the
smell of those cooking fish was delicious.
In a moment he recognized the glade, the two beech
trees and the rock, saw the bulk of the shack that he
had built, the glow of the fire and a small figure sitting
on a log before it, cooking fish on a spit. He stopped
348
THE LODESTAR
and passed a hand before his eyes. Had a year passed?
Or was it yesterday? Who was the girl that sat famil-
iarly at his fire, hatless, her brown hair tawny in the
sunlight, her slender neck bent forward?
He rubbed his eyes and peered again. There was no
mistake. It was Jane.
XXIX
ARCADIA AGAIN
SHE did not move at his approach, although his foot-
steps among the dried leaves must have been plainly
audible, and he was within ten feet of the fire before
she turned.
" We had better be going soon, Challon," she began
and then stopped, as she raised her head and looked at
him. He wore his old fishing hat with the holes in it, a
faded blue flannel shirt, corduroys and laced boots; and
as her eye passed quickly over his figure to his face, she
paled, started backward and stared with a terror in her
eyes of something beyond comprehension. He saw her
put her arm before her face to shut out the sight of him
and rise to one knee, stumbling blindly away, when he
caught her in his arms, whispering madly:
" Jane ! Jane ! Don't turn away from me. It's Phil,
do you hear? Myself no other. You were waiting for
me and I came to you."
She trembled violently and her hand clutched his arm
as though to assure herself of its reality.
" Jane, look up at me. Look in my eyes and you'll
see your vision there where it has always been, and
always will be unchangeable. Look at me, Jane."
Slowly she raised her head and saw that what he said
was true, the pallor of dismay retreating before the warm
flush that suffused her from neck to brow.
" It's you, Phil? I can't understand "
" Nor I. I don't know or care so long as you are
350
ARCADIA AGAIN
here close in my arms. I'll never let you go again. Kiss
me, Jane."
She obeyed;, blindly, passionately, the wonder in her
eyes dying in heavenly content.
" You came to me, Phil," she whispered. " How?
Why?"
" Because you wanted me, because you were waiting
for me. Isn't it so? "
" Yes, I was waiting for you. I came here because
I couldn't stay away. I I don't know why I came '
She paused and her hands tightened on his shoulders
again. " Oh, Phil," she cried again, " there's no mis-
take? "
" No no."
" You frightened me so. I thought you were unreal
a vision your hat, your clothes are the same. I
thought you were the ghost of happiness."
He kissed her tenderly.
" There are no ghosts, Jane, dear. Not even those of
unhappiness," he murmured. " There is no room for
anything in the world but hope and joy and love
yours and mine. I love you, dearest. Even when reason
despaired, I loved you most and loved the pain of it."
" The pain of it I know."
She was sobbing now, her slender body quivering under
his caress.
" Don't, Jane," he whispered. " Don't cry. Don't ! "
But she smiled up at him through her tears.
" Let me, Phil, I I'm so happy."
He soothed her gently and held her close in his arms,
her head against his breast, as he would have held that
of a tired child. After a time she relaxed and lay quiet.
"You're glad?" he asked.
There was no reply.
351
THE SILENT BATTLE
"Are you glad?" he repeated.
"Glad! Oh, Phil, I've suffered so."
"Oh, Jane, why? Look at me, dear. It was all a
mistake. How could you have misjudged me? "
She drew away from him and took his head between
the palms of her hands and sought his eyes with her own.
" There was no other? " she asked haltingly.
" No a thousand times no," he returned her gaze
eagerly. " How could there be any other ? " he asked
simply.
She looked long and then closed her eyes and drew his
lips down to hers.
" You believe in me now? " he asked.
" Yes," she whispered, her eyes still closed. " I be-
lieve in you. Even if I didn't, I would still still adore
you."
" God bless you for that. But you do believe " he
persisted.
" Yes, yes, I do believe in you, Phil. I can't doubt
you when you look at me like that."
" Then I'll never look away from you."
" Don't look away. Those eyes ! How they've haunt-
ed me. The shadows in them! There are no shadows
now, Phil. They're laughing at me, at my feminine weak-
ness, convinced against itself. I thought you were a
ghost." She held him away and looked at him. " But
you're not in the least ghostlike. You're looking very
well. I don't believe you've worried."
" Nor you. I've never seen you looking handsomer.
It's hardly flattering to my vanity."
She sighed.
" I've lived in Arcadia for three weeks."
He led her over to the log beside the shack and sat
beside her.
352
ARCADIA AGAIN
" Tell me," he said at last, " how you came to be
here alone."
She straightened quickly and peered around.
" But I'm not alone my guide he went into the
brush for firewood."
"Curious!"
" He should be back by noAv."
" I hope he doesn't come back."
" Oh, Phil, so do I but he will. And you? "
" My guide, Joe Keegon, is there," and he pointed up-
stream.
A shade passed over her face.
" But we'll send them away, Jane, back where they
came from. We need no guides now, you and I, no
guides but our hearts, no servants but our hands. We'll
begin again where we left off yesterday."
She crouched closer in his arms.
" Yesterday. Yes, it was only yesterday that we were
here," she sighed. " But the long night between ! "
" A dream, Jane, a dream a phantom unhappiness
only this is real."
"Are you sure? I'm afraid I'll awaken."
" No," he laughed. " See, the fire is just as we left
it last night ; the black log charred, the shack, your bed,
the two birch trees and your ridgepole."
" Yes," she smiled.
" The two creels and the cooking fish "
" Oh, those fish ! My fish are all in the fire."
" Do you care ? "
" No I'll let them burn. But you'll be good to me,
won't you, Phil? "
There was another long pause. About them the or-
chestral stillness of the deep woods, amid which they lived
a moment of immortality, all thought, all speech inade-
353
quate to their sweet communion. A venturesome sparrow
perched itself upon Jane's ridgepole, and after putting
it's head on one side in inquiry uttered a low and joyful
chirp, and failing to attract attention flew away to tell
the gossip to its mate. The breeze crooned, the stream
sighed and the sunlight kissed the cardinal flowers, which
lifted their heads for its caress. All Nature breathed con-
tentment, peace and consummation.
But there was much to be said, much mystery to be
revealed, and it was Jane who first spoke. She drew
away from him gently and looked out into the under-
brush.
" Phil ! Those guides," she whispered. " They may
have seen."
" Let them. I don't care. Do you? "
" Ye-s. Let me think. I can't understand. Why
hasn't Challon come back? He was here a minute ago
or was it an hour? I don't know." Her fingers strug-
gled with the disorder of her hair as she smiled at him.
" Challon is a myth. I don't believe you had a
guide."
" A myth, indeed ! I wish he was now. I wantecT
to go out alone, but father wouldn't let me "
"Mr. Loring!" Gallatin started up. "Oh, of
course ! " he sighed. " I had forgotten that there were
such things as fathers."
" But there are there is " she laughed, " a per-
fectly substantial father within ten miles from here."
" You're in camp again in the same spot ? "
She nodded.
" Any one else? " he frowned. " Not Mr. Van Duyn."
" Oh, dear, no. Coley has gone to Carlsbad."
He took her by the hand again. " You sent him
away? "
354,
ARCADIA AGAIN
" Yes."
"When?"
" After ' Ciovelly.' Oh, Phil, you hurt me so. But
I couldn't stand seeing him after that."
"Why?"
" Because, cruel as you were, I knew that you were
right and that I was wrong. I hated you that night
hated you because you made me such a pitiful thing;
jbut Oh, I loved you, too, more than ever. If only
you hadn't been so hard so bitter. If you had been
gentle then, you might have taken me in your arms and
crushed me if you liked. I shouldn't have cared."
" Sh that was only in the dream, Jane." And then :
'* You never cared for him? " he asked quickly.
" Never."
" Then why ? "
" My pride, Phil. Poor Coley ! "
He echoed the words heartlessly.
" Poor Coley ! "
A pause. " Who else is in camp ? "
" Colonel Broadhurst, Mr. Worthington, Mr. and
Mrs. Pennington "
"Nellie! Here?"
" Yes, she had never been in the woods before. Why,
what is the matter, Phil? "
Gallatin straightened, one hand to his forehead.
" I have it," he said.
"Have what?"
" It was Nellie. I might have guessed it."
" Guessed ? "
" It was her plan coming up here to the woods.
Before we left New York she and John Kenyon were as
thick as thieves and "
"Oh!"
355
THE SILENT BATTLE
" Good old Uncle John ! He did it. I remember now
a hundred things."
It was Jane's turn to be surprised.
" Yes yes. It's true, Phil. Oh, how cleverly they
managed ! But how could Nellie have known that I would
come here? I only told Johnny Challon."
Phil laughed.
" Nellie Pennington is a remarkable woman. She
knew. She knows everything."
" Yes, I think she does," said Jane. " We've been in
camp a week. I started with Challon four days ago. He
said he had lost the trail, and I gave it up. This morn-
ing I can see it all now. Father and Nellie started
me off themselves at sunrise. They knew I'd come here
and "
She stopped and took him abruptly by the arm.
** Phil ! Those wicked people had even fixed the day and
hour of our meeting."
He nodded.
" Of course ! I wanted to come yesterday, but they
wouldn't let me. If I had I should have missed you."
" Oh how terrible ! "
Her accents were so genuine, her face so distressed at
this possibility, that he laughed and caught her in his
arms again.
" But I didn't miss you, Jane. That's the point.
Even if I had, Nellie would have managed somehow.
She's an extraordinary woman."
" She is, Phil. She chaperoned me until Coley was at
the point of exasperation."
" Quite right of her, too."
" But why has she taken such an interest in you
in us?"
" Because she's an angel, because she has the wisdom
356
ARCADIA AGAIN
of the centuries, because she is a born matchmaker, be-
cause she always does what she makes up her mind to
do, and, lastly and most important, Jane, she has a
proper sense of the eternal fitness of things."
" That's true. Nothing else was possible, was it,
Phil? "
" No. It was written a thousand years ago."
She turned in his -mas.
" Have you thought that always ? " she asked.
" I never gave up hoping."
" Nor I."
She was silent a moment.
" Phil."
"What, Jane?"
" Would you have come here to Arcadia, alone, even
" Yes. I would have come here alone. I was plan-
ning it all spring. This place is redolent of you. Your
spirit has haunted it for a year. I wanted to be here
to share it with Kee-way-din, if I couldn't have your-
self."
" What would you have done if I had not been here? "
" I don't know waited for you, I think."
" But it was I who waited "
" You didn't wait long. What were you thinking of,
there by the fire? "
" Of my dream."
" You dreamed of me ? "
" Yes. The night we came into camp I dreamed of
you. I saw you poling a canoe upstream. I followed
you across a portage. There was a heavy pack upon
your back, but you did not mind the weight, for your step
was light and your face happy. There was a shadow in
your eyes, the same shadow, but your lips were smiling.
357
THE SILENT BATTLE
Night fell and still you toiled in the moonlight, and I
knew that you were coining here. There were voices, too,
and you were singing with them ; but I wasn't afraid, be-
cause you seemed so joyful."
" I was joyful."
" I saw the shack and the ashes of the fire and I
saw you coming through the bushes toward it. But when
you came to the fire I was not there. You called me, but
I couldn't answer. I tried to, but I seemed to be dumb
and then and that was all."
" A dream. It was all true except the last."
" That's why I came. I wanted to be here, so that
if you did come, you might not be disappointed. I had
failed you before. I did not want it to happen again.
I brought Challon to show me the way. I was coming
here again and again until you found me."
He raised her chin and looked into her eyes.
" Dream again, dear."
" I'm dreaming now," she sighed. " It is so sweet.
Don't .let me wake, Phil. It it mightn't be true."
" Yes, it's true, all true. You'll marry me, Jane? "
" Whenever you ask me to."
He looked away from her down the stream where the
sunlight danced in the open.
" I told you once that I would come for you some
day when I had conquered myself," he said slowly,
" when I had made a place among the useful men of the
world, when I could look my Enemy in the eye for a
long while and not be defeated to stare him down until
he stole away far off where I wouldn't ever find him."
" Yes."
" He has gone, Jane. He does not trouble me and
will not, I know. It was a long battle, a silent battle
358
ARCADIA AGAIN
between us, but I've won. And I'm ready to take you,
Jane."
" Take me, then."
Her lips were already his.
" You could have had me before, Phil," she murmured.
" I would have fought the Enemy with you he was my
Enemy, too, but you would not have me."
He shook his head.
" Not then. It was my own fight not yours. And
yet if it hadn't been for you, perhaps I shouldn't have
fought at all."
She drew away from him a little.
" No I didn't help you. I only made it harder. I'll
regret that always. It was your own victory against
odds."
He smiled.
" What does it matter now. I had to win not that
battle alone but others."
" Yes, I know," she smiled. " Father is mad about
you."
Gallatin threw up his chin and laughed to the sky.
" He ought to be. I'd be mad, too, in his place."
His joy was infectious, and she smiled at him fondly.
" You're a very wonderful person, aren't you ? "
" How could a demigod be anything else but won-
'derful? You created me. Aren't you pleased with your
handiwork? "
" Immensely."
He paused a moment and then whispered into her
ear.
" You'll marry me soon? "
" Yes."
"When?"
359
THE SILENT BATTLE
" Whenever you want me, Phil."
"This summer! They shall leave us here!" he said.
She colored divinely.
" Oh ! "
" It can be managed."
" A wedding in the woods ! Oh, Phil ! "
"Why not? I'll see "
But she put her fingers over his lips and would not
listen to him.
" Yes, dear," he insisted, capturing her hands, " it
shall be here. All this is ours our forest, our stream, our
sunlight, yours and mine, our kingdom. Would you
change a kingdom for a villa or a fashionable hotel? "
" No, no," she whispered.
" We will begin life together here where love began
alone. You shall cook and I shall kill for you, and
build with my own hands another shack, a larger one with
two windows and a door a wonderful shack with chairs,
a table "
" And a porcelain bathtub ? "
" No the bath is down the corridor to the right."
She had used it.
" It will do," she smiled. " May I have a mirror? "
" The pool "
Her lips twisted.
" I tried it once, and fell in. A mirror, please," she
insisted.
" Yes a mirror then."
" And a a small, a very tiny steamer trunk? "
He laughed.
" Oh, yes, and a French maid, smelling salts and a
motor "
" Phil ! What shall I cook with? "
" A frying pan and a tin coffeepot."
360
ARCADIA AGAIN
" But I can make such beautiful muffins."
" I'll build an oven."
" And cake -- "
" We'll live like gods - "
" Demigods - "
" And goddesses."
It was sweet nonsense but nobody heard it but them-
selves.
The shadows lengthened. The patches of light, turned
to gold, were lifting along the tree trunks when from the
deeps of the ancient forest below them there came three
flutclike notes of liquid music of such depth and richness
that they sat spellbound. In a moment they heard it
again, the three cadenced notes of unearthly beauty and
then the pause, while all nature held its breath and waited
to hear again.
" The hermit thrush," he whispered.
" Oh, Phil. It's from the very soul of things."
Sh - "
But they did not hear it again. The hermit thrush,
sings seldom and then only to those who belong to the
Immortal Brotherhood of the Forest.
(2)
THE EN*
361
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" 1 J
UNDERWOOD BUILDING - NEW YORK.
JOHN FOX, JR'S.
STORIES. OF THE KENTUCKY MOUNTAINS
May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Eunlap's list.
THE TRAIL OF THE LONESOME PINE.
Illustrated by F. C. Yolin.
The "lonesome pine" from -which the
story takes its name was a tall tree that
stood in solitary splendor on a mountain
top. The fame of the p?ne lured a young
engineer through Kentucky to catch the
trail, and when he finally climbed to its
shelter he found not only the pine but the
foot-prints of a girl. And the girl proved
to be lovely, piquant, and the trail of
these girlish foot-prints led the young
engineer a madder chase than "the trail
of the lonesome pine."
THE LITTLE SHEPHERD OF KINGDOM COME
Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.
This is a story of Kentucky, in a settlement known as "King-
dom Come." It is a life rude, semi-barbarous; but natural
and honest, from which often springs the flower of civilization.
" Chad." the "little shepherd" did not know who he was nor
-whence he came he had just wandered from door to door since
early childhood, seeking shelter with kindly mountaineers who
gladly fathered and mothered this waif about whom there was
such a mystery a charming waif, by the way, who could play
the banjo better that anyone else in the mountains.
A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND.
Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.
The scenes are laid along the waters of the Cumberland*
the lair of moonshiner and f eudsman. The knight is a moon-
shiner's son, and the heroine a beautiful girl perversely chris-
tened "The Blight." Two impetuous young Southerners' fall
under the spell of "The Blight's " charms and she learns what
a large part jealousy and pistols have in the love making of the
mountaineers.
Included in this volume is " Hell fer-Sartain" and other
stories, some of Mr. Fox's most entertaining Cumberland valley
narratives.
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STORIES OF RARE CHARM BY
GENE STRATTON-PORTER
May foo had wherever books are sold. AsK for Grossel and Dunlap's list.
THE HARVESTER
Illustrated by W. L. Jacobs
"The Harvester," David Langston, is
a man of the woods and fields, who diuvt.*
his living from the prodigal hand of Mothe c ,
Nature herself. If the book had nothing in.
it but the splendid figure of this man, \vi h
his sure grip on life, his superb optimism,
and his almost miraculous knowledge of
nature secrets, it would be notable. But
when the Girl comes to his "Medicine
Woods," and the Harvester's whole sound,
healthy, large outdoor being realizes that
this is the highest point of life which has
come to him there begins a romance,
troubled and interrupted, yet of the rarest idyllic quality.
FRECKLES. Decorations by E. Stetson Crawford
Freckles is a nameless waif when the tale opens, but the way in
which he takes hold of life; the nature friendships he forms in the
great Limberlost Swamp; the manner in which everyone who meets
him succumbs to the charm of his engaging personality; and his love-
story with "The Angel" are full of real sentiment.
A GIRL OF THE LIMBERLOST.
Illustrated by Wladyslaw T. Brenda.
The story of a girl of the Michigan -woods; a buoyant, lovable
type of the self-reliant American. Her philosophy is one of love and
kindness towards all things; her hope is never dimmed. And by the
sheer beauty of her soul, and the purity of her vision, she wins from
barren and unpromising surroundings those rewards of high courage.
It is an inspiring story of a life worth while and the rich beauties
of the out-of-doors are strewn through all its pages.
AT THE FOOT OF THE RAINBOW.
Illustrations in colors by Oliver Kemp. Design and decorations by
Ralph Fletcher Seymour.
The scene of this charming, idyllic love story is laid in Central
Indiana. The story is one of devoted friendship, and tender self-
sacrificing love; the friendship that gives freely without return, and
the love that seeks first the happiness of the object. The novel is
brimful of the most beautiful word painting of nature, and its pathos
and tender sentiment will endear it to all.
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THE NOVELS OF
STEWART EDWARD WHITE
THE RULES OF THE GAME. Illustrated by Lajaren A. Killer
The romance of the son of "The Riverman." The young college
hero goes into the lumber camp, is antagonized by "graft" and comes
into the romance of his life.
ARIZONA NIGHTS. Illus. and cover inlay by N. C. Wyetb.
A series of spirited tales emphasizing some phases of the life
of the ranch, plains and desert. A masterpiece.
THE BLAZED TRAIL. With illustiations by Thomas Fogarty.
A wholesome story with gleams of humor, telling of a young
man who blazed his way to fortune through the heart o the Mich-
igan pines.
THE CLAIM JUMPERS. A Romance.
The tenderfoot manager of a mine in a lonesome gulch of the
Black Hills has a hard time of it, but "wins out" in more ways than,
one.
CONJUROR'S HOUSE. Illustrated Theatrical Edition.
Dramatized under the title of "The Call of the North."
"Conjuror's House is a Hudson Bay trading post where the
head factor is the absolute lord. A young fellow risked his life and
won a bride on this forbidden land.
THE MAGIC FOREST. A Modern Fairy Tale. Illustrated.
The sympathetic way in which the children of the wild and
their life is treated could only belong to one who is in love with the
forest and open air. Based on fact
THE RIVERMAN. Illus. by N. C." Wyeth and C. Underwood.
The story of a man's fight against a river and of a struggle
between honesty and grit on the one side, and dishonesty and
shrewdness on the other.
THE SILENT PLACES. Illustrations by Philip R. Goodwin.
The wonders of the northern forests, the heights of feminine
devotion, and masculine power, the intelligence of the Caucasian
and the instinct of the Indian, are all finely drawn in this story.
THE WESTERNERS.
A story of the Black Hills that is justly placed among the
best American novels. It portrays the life of the new West as no
other book has done in recent years.
THE MYSTERY. In collaboration with Samuel Hopkins Adams
With illustrations by Will Crawford.
The disappearance of three successive crews from the stont
ship "Laughing Lass" in mid-Pacific, is a mystery weird and inscrut-
able. In the solution, there is a story of the most exciting voyage
that man ever undertook.
GROSSET & DUNLAP, 526 WEST 26th ST., NEW YORK
B. M. Bower's Novels
Thrilling Western Romances
Large 12 mos. Har/dsomely bound in cloth. Illustrated
CHIP, OF THE FLYING U
A breezy wholesome tale, wherein the love affairs of Chip and
Delia Whitman are charmingly and humorously told. Chip's
jealousy of Dr. Cecil Grantham, who turns out to be a big. bine
eyed young woman is very amusing. A clever, realistic story of
the American Cow-puncher.
THE HAPPY FAMILY
A lively and amusing story, dealing with the adventures of
eighteen jovial, big hearted Montana, cowboys. Foremost amongst
them, we find Ananias Green, known as Andy, whose imaginative
powers cause many lively and exciting adventures.
HER PRAIRIE KNIGHT
A realistic story of the plains, describing a gay party of Eas-
terners who exchange a cottage at Newport for the roiiph homeli-
ness of a Montana ranch-house. The merry-hearted cowboys, the
fascinating Beatrice, and the effusive Sir Redmond, become living,
breathing personalities.
THE RANGE DWELLERS
Here are everyday, genuine cowboys, just as they really exist.
Spirited action, a range feud between two families, and a Romeo
and Juliet courtship make this a bright, jolly, entertaining story,
without a dull page.
THE LURE OF DIM TRAILS
A vivid portrayal of the experience of an Eastern author,
among the cowboys of the West, in search of "local color" for a
new novel. "Bud' ' Thurston learns many a lesson while following
"the iure of the dim trails" but the hardest, and probably the most
welcome, is that of love.
THE LONESOME TRAIL
"Weary" Davidson leaves the ranch for Portland, where con-
ventional city life palls on him. A little branch of sage brush.
pungent with the atmosphere of the prairie, and the recollection of
a pair of large brown eyes soon compel his return. A whcle^om^
Jove story,
THE LONG SHADOW
A vigorous Western story, sparkling with* the free, tdoor,
life of a mountain ranch. Its scenes shift rarjidly and its actors play
the game of life fearlessly and like men. It is a fine love story from
start to finish.
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TITLES SELECTED FROM
GROSSET & DUNLAFS LIST
RE-ISSUES OF THE GREAT LITERARY SUCCESSES OF THE TIME
May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grossat & Dunlap's list
BEN HUR. A Tale of the Christ. By General Lew Wallace
This famous Religious-Historical Romance with its mighty story,
brilliant pageantry, thrilling action and deep religious reverence,
hardly requires an outline. The whole world has placed "Ben-Hur"
on a height of pre-eminence which no other novel of its time has
reached. The clashing of rivalry and the deepest human passions,
the perfect reproduction of brilliant Roman life, and the tense, fierce
atmosphere of the arena have kept their deep fascination.
THE PRINCE OE INDIA. By General Lew Wallace
A glowing romance of the. Byzantine Empire, showing, with vivid
imagination, the possible forces behind the internal decay of the Em-
pire that hastened the fall of Constantinople.
The foreground figure is the person known to all as the Wan-
dering Jew, at this time appearing as the Prince of India, with vast
stores of wealth, and is supposed to have instigated many wars and
fomented the Crusades.
Mohammed's love for the Princess Irene is beautifully wrought
into the story, and the book as a whole is a marvelous work both
historically and romantically.
THE FAIR GOD. By General Lew Wallace. A Tale of the
Conquest of Mexico. With Eight Illustrations by Eric Pape.
All the annals of conquest have nothing more brilliantly daring
and dramatic than the drama played in Mexico by Cortes. As a
dazzling picture of Mexico and the Montezumas it leaves nothing to
be desired.
The artist has caught with rare enthusiasm the spirit of the
Spanish conquerors of Mexico, its beauty and glory and romance.
TARRY THOU TILL I COME or, Salathiel, the Wandering
Jew. By George Croly. With twenty illustrations by T. de Thulstrup
A historical novel, dealing with the momentous events that oc-
curred, chiefly in Palestine, from the time of the Crucifixion to the
destruction of Jerusalem.
The book, as a story, is replete with Oriental charm and richness,
and the character drawing is marvelous. No other novel ever written
has portrayed with such vividness the events that convulsed Rome
and destroyed Jerusalem in the early days of Christanity.
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STORIES OF WESTERN LIFE
May be had wherever books are soisl. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list
RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE, ByZaneGrey.
Illustrated by Douglas Duer.
In this picturesque romance of Utah of some forty years ago, we
are permitted to see the unscrupulous methods employed by the in-
visible hand of the Mormon Church to break the will of those refus-
ing to conform to its rule.
FRIAR TUCK, By Robert Alexander Wason,
Illustrated by Stanley L. Wood.
Happy Hawkins tells us, in his humorous way, how Friar Tuck
lived among the Cowboys, how he adjusted their quarrels and love
affairs and how he fought with them and for them when occasion
required,
THE SKY PILOT, By Ralph Connor.
Illustrated by Louis Rnead.
There is no novel, dealing: with the rough existence cf cowboys,
so charming in the telling, abounding as it does with the freshest and
the truest pathos.
THE EMIGRANT TRAIL, By Geraldine Bonner.
Colored frontispiece by John Rae.
The book relates the adventures of a party on its overland pil-
grimage, and the birth and growth of the absorbing love of two strong
men for a charming heroine.
THE BOSS OF V7IND RIVER, By A. M. Chisholm.
Illustrated by Frank Tenney Johnson.
This is a strong, virile novel with the lumber industry for its cen-
tral theme and a love story full of interest as a sort of subplot.
A PRAIRIE COURTSHIP, By Harold Bindloss.
A story of Canadian prairies in which the hero is stirred, through
the influence of his iove for a woman, to settle down to the heroic
business of pioneer farming.
JOYCE OF THE NORTH WOODS, By Harriet T. Comstock.
Illustrated by John Cassel.
A story of the deep woods that shows the power of love at work
among its primitive dwellers. It is a tensely moving study of the
human heart and its aspirations that unfolds itself through thrilling
situations and dramatic developments.
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AMELIA E. BARK'S STORIES
DELIGHTFUL TALES OF OLD NEW YORK
May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list
THE BOW OF ORANGE RIBBON. With Frontispiece.
This exquisite little romance opens in New York City in "the ten- \
der grace" of a May day long past, when the old Dutch families
clustered around Bowling Green. It is the beginning of the romance
of Katherine, a young Dutch girl who has sent, as a love token, to a
young English officer, the bow of orange ribbon which she has worn
for years as a sacred emblem on the day of St. Nicholas. After the
bow of ribbon Katherine's heart soon nies. Unlike her sister, whose
heart has found a safe resting place among her own people, Katherine's
heart must rove from home must know to the utmost all that life
holds of both joy and sorrow. And so she goes beyond the seas, leav-
ing her parents as desolate as were Isaac and Rebecca of old.
THE MAID OF MAIDEN LANE; A Love Story. With
Illustrations by S. M. Arthur.
A sequel to "The Bow of Orange Ribbon." The time is the
gracious days of Seventeen-hundred and ninety-one, when "The
Marseillaise" was sung with the American national airs, and the
spirit affected commerce, politics and conversation. In the midst of
this period the romance of "The Sweetest Maid in Maiden Lane" un-
folds. Its chief charm lies in its historic and local color.
SHPJILA VEDDER. Frontispiece in colors by Harrison Fisher.
A love story set in the Shetland Islands.
Among the simple, homely folk who dwelt there Jan Vedder was
raised; and to this island came lovely Sheila Jarrow. Jan knew, when
first he beheld her, that she was the one woman in all the world for
him, and to the winning of her love he set himself. The long days of
summer by the sea, the nights under the marvelously soft radiance of
Shetland moonlight passed in love-making, while with wonderment
the man and woman, alien in traditions, adjusted themselves to each
other. And the day came when Jan and Sheila wed, and then a
sweeter love story is told.
TRINITY BELLS. With eight Illustrations by C. M. Relyea.
The story centers around the life of little Katryntje Van Clyffe,
who, on her return home from a fashionable boarding school, faces
poverty and heartache. Stout of heart, she does not permit herself
io become discouraged even at the news of the loss of her father and
his ship "The Golden Victory." The story of Katryntje's life was
interwoven with the music of the Trinity Bells which eventually
heralded her wedding day.
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CHARMING BOOKS FOR GIRLS
May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list
WHEN PATTY WENT TO COLLEGE, By Jean Webster.
Illustrated by C. D. Williams.
One of the best stories of life in a girl's college that has ever been
written. It is bright, whimsical and entertaining, lifelike, laughable
and thoroughly human.
JUST PATTY, By Jean Webster.
Illustrated by C. M. Relyea.
Patty is full of the joy of living, fun-loving, given to ingenious
mischief for its own sake, with a disregard for pretty convention which
Is an unfailing source of joy to her fellows.
THE POOR LITTLE RICH GIRL, By Eleanor Gates.
With four full page illustrations.
This story relates the experience of one of those unfortunate chil-
dren whose early days are passed in the companionship of a governess,
seldom seeing either parent, and famishing for natural love and tender-
ness. A charming play as dramatized by the author.
REBECCA OF SUNNYBROOK FARM. By Kate Douglas
Wiggin.
One of the most beautiful studies of childhood Rebecca's artistic,
unusual and quaintly charming qualities stand out midst a circle of
austere New Englanders. The stage version is making a phenominal
dramatic record.
NEW CHRONICLES OF REBECCA, By Kate Douglas Wiggin.
Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.
Additional episodes in the girlhood of this delightful heroine that
carry Rebecca through various stages to her eighteenth birthday.
REBECCA MARY, By Annie Hamilton Donnell.
Illustrated by Elizabeth Shippen Green.
This author possesses the rare gift of portraying all the grotesque
little joys and sorrows and scruples of this very small girl with a pa-
thos that is peculiarly genuine and appealing.
EMMY LOU; Her Book and Heart, By George Madden Martia
Illustrated by Charles Louis Hinton.
Emmy Lou is irresistibly lovable, because she is so absolutely real.
She is just a bewitchingly innocent, hugable little maid. The book is
wonderfully human.
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GROSSET & DUNLAP'S
DRAMATIZED NOVELS
Original, sincere and courageous often amusing the
kind that are making theatrical history.
MADAME X. By Alexandra Bisson and J. W. McCon-
aughy. Illustrated with scenes from the play,
A beautiful Parisienne became an outcast because her hus-
band would not forgive an error of her youth. Her love for
her son is the great final influence in her career. A tremen-
dous dramatic success.
THE GARDEN OF ALLAH. By Robert Hichens.
AD unconventional English woman and an inscrutable
stranger meet and love in an oasis of the Sahara. Staged
this season with magnificent cast and gorgeous properties.
THE PRINCE OF INDIA. By Lew. Wallace.
A glowing romance of the Byzantine Empire, presenting
with extraordinary power the siege of Constantinople, and
lighting its tragedy with the warm underglow of an Oriental
romance. As a play it is a great dramatic spectacle,
TESS OF THE STORM COUNTRY. By Grace
Miller White. Illust. by Howard Chandler Christy.
A girl from the dregs of society, loves a young Cornell Uni-
versity student, and it works startling changes in her life and
the lives of those about her. The dramatic version is one ot
the sensations of the season.
YOUNG WALLINGFORD. By George Randolph
Chester. Illust. by F. R. Gruger and Henry Raleigh.
A series of clever swindles conducted by a cheerful young
man, each of which is just on the safe side of a State's prison
offence. As "Get-Rich-Quick Wallingtord," it is probably
the most amusing expose of money manipulation ever seea
on the stage.
THE INTRUSION OF JIMMY. By P. G. Wode-
house. Illustrations by Will Grefe.
Social and club life hi London and New York, au amateur
burglary adventure and a love story. Dramatized under the
title of "A Gentleman of Leisure," it furnishes hours of
laughter to the play-goers.
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GROSSET& DUNLAP'S
DRAMATIZED NOVELS
THE KIND THAT ARE MAKING THEATRICAL HISTORY
May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grossst & Duniap's list
WITHIN THE LAW. By Bayard Veiller & Marvin Dana.
Illustrated by Wm. Charles Cooke.
This is a novelization of the immensely successful play which ran
for two years in New York and Chicago.
The plot of this powerful novel is of a young -woman's revenge
directed against her employer who allowed her to be sent to priso'n
for three years on a charge of theft, of svhich she was innocent.
WHAT HAPPENED TO MARY. By Robert Carltoa Brown,
illustrated with scenes from the play.
This is a narrative of a young and innocent country girl vrho is
Suddenly thrown into the very heart of New York, "the land of her
dreams," where she is exposed to all sorts of temptations and dangers.
The story of Mary is being told in moving pictures and played in
theatres all over the world.
THE RETURN OF PETER GRIMM. By David Belasco.
Illustrated by John lUe,
This is a novelization of the popular play in which David \Var,
field, as Old Peter Grimm, scored such a remarkable success.
The story is spectacular and extremely pathetic but withal,
powerful, both as a book and as a play.
THE GARDEN OF ALLAH. By Robert Hichens. ;
This novel is an intense, glowing epic of the great desert, sunlit
barbaric, with its marvelous atmosphere of vastness and loneliness.
It is a book of rapturous beauty, vivid in word painting. The plav
has been sta^id with magnificent cast and gorgeous properties.
BEN HUR. A Tale of the Christ. By General Lew Wallace.
The whole world has placed this famous Religious-Historical Ro-
mance on a height of pre*-eminence which no other novel of its time
jos reached. The clashing o rivalry and the deepest human passions,
the perfect reproduction of brilliant Roman life, and the tense, fierce
at.nor;phere c!: the arena have kept their deep fascination. A tre-
mendous dramatic success.
.BOUGHT AND PAID FOR. By George Broadhurst and Arthol
Hornblow. Illustrated with scenes from the play.
m A stupendous arraignment of modern marriage which has created
an interest on the stage that is almost unparalleled. The scenes are laid
in New York, and deal with conditions among both the rich and poor.
^ The interest of the story turns on the day-by-day developmeivt3
which show the young wife the price she has paid.
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THE NOVELS OF
CLARA LOUISE BURNHAM
May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grossel and Dunlap's list.
JEWEL; A Chapter in Her Life.
Illustrated by Maude and Genevieve Cowles.
A sweet, dainty story, breathing the doctrine of love and patience
and sweet nature and cheerfulness.
JEWEL'S STORY BOOK.
Illustrated by Albert Schmitt.
A sequel to "Jewel" and equally enjoyable.
CLEVER BETSY.
Illustrated by Rose O'Neill.
The "Clever Betsy" was a boat named for the unyielding spin-
ster whom the captain hoped to marry. Through the two Betsys a
clever group of people are introduced to the reader.
SWEET CLOVER: A Romance of the White City.
A story of Chicago at the time of the World's Fair. A sweet hu-
man story that touches the heart.
THE OPENED SHUTTERS.
Frontispiece by Harrison Fisher.
A summer haunt on an island in Casco Bay is the background
for this romance. A beautiful woman, at discord with life, is brought
to realize, by her new friends, that she may open the shutters of her
soul to the blessed sunlight of joy by casting aside vanity and self
love. A delicately humorous work with a lofty motive underlying it aU.
THE RIGHT PRINCESS.
An amusing story, opening at a fashionable Long Island resort,
where a stately Englishwoman employs a forcible New England
housekeeper to serve in her interesting home. How types so widely
apart react on each other's lives, all to ultimate good, makes a story
both humorous and rich in sentiment.
THE LEAVEN OF LOVE.
Frontispiece by Harrison Fisher.
At a Southern California resort a world-weary woman, young and
beautiful but disillusioned, meets a girl who has learned the art of
living of tasting life in all its richness, opulence and joy. The story
hinges upon the change wrought in the soul of the blase woman by
this glimpse into a cheery life.
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