The Storm Centre Part 5

Outside the rain still fell in torrents; the tumult of the gush from the gutter hard by gave intimations of great volume of overflow. At long intervals a drop fell hissing down the chimney on the coals where the fire had burned to a white heat. The wind sang like a trump, and from far away the reverberations of a train of cars came with a sort of m.u.f.fled sonority that was almost indistinguishable from the vibrations of the earth. One hardly knew whether the approach of the train was felt or heard.

"I can't see how a locomotive can keep the rails in such a night as this," Colonel Ashley remarked, lifting his head to listen. "I had rather my command would be playing the duck down there in the puddles than crossing that half-submerged bridge on that troop train."

"Are they transporting troops now?" asked Judge Roscoe, casually. He was a lawyer and knew the general inappropriateness and inadmissibility of a leading question. He had, however, no interest in the response, for the transit of troops did not necessarily intimate renforcements to the garrison, and hence the expectation of attack, but perhaps merely the intention of distant activity.

Captain Baynell lifted his eyes from his cards, and a glance of warning, of upbraiding, flashed into the jovial dark eyes of Colonel Ashley. Judge Roscoe perceived it with surprise and a sort of uncomfortable monition that he and his guest, the son of his cherished friend, were in reality in opposition in a most important crisis of the life of each--in effect, national enemies. He had not thus regarded their standpoint, and the idea that this was Baynell's conviction wounded him. He hardly thought the warning glance in his own house either necessary or in good form, and he was not ill pleased to subtly perceive that Ashley secretly resented it.

"A troop train, I should judge, by the sound," Ashley said hardily, his head still poised in a listening pose. "Evidently heavily laden; might be horses, though," he continued speculatively. He would not submit to be checked or disciplined into prudential considerations by Baynell, especially as Judge Roscoe must have noted the warning sign, which itself would tend to convert a simple casual remark into a significant disclosure. He said to himself that he knew the proper limitations of conversation, and was the last man in the world to let slip a hint that might by any means inform or even prompt the enemy. Moreover, Judge Roscoe was not deaf, and could distinguish the deep rumble of cars laden with troops from the usual sound of the running-gear of a train of ordinary freight and pa.s.sengers. He went on casually and with an expansive effect of frankness: "Horses, most probably; there is a cavalry regiment in town that has been at the front as dismounted troops, and I think an order is out for horses for their use as cavalry again; they have been pressing horses all over the county yesterday and the day before. Winstead's troopers, you know," he added, addressing Baynell. "I saw him to-day. He says his men all seem pigeon-toed, or web-footed, or something. They were of no use afoot, although they have done very well in the saddle."

"An'--an' did they wear boots on birds' feet an' web-toes?" asked the amazed Geraldine, innocently.

"Oh--oh, _Ger'ldine_!" screamed the superior Adelaide. "He means walkin'

this-a-way," and her hands went across the table in a "toeing-in" gait, ill.u.s.trative of the defect known as "pigeon toes."

"Aw--aw--_I_ know now!" said the instructed "lady," wofully out of countenance. Then she turned to draw from her neighbor's hand with much doubt and circ.u.mspection, for the matched pile in the centre was now large and the remaining cards had become few.

At that moment Mrs. Gwynn glanced up from the paper; she had been reading an account of a recent spirited skirmish at the front.

"What is the difference between shrapnel and grape-shot?" she asked of the company at large.

Baynell, the artillery expert, rejoiced to enlighten her. He turned in his chair and promptly took the word from the others. Few experts can answer any simple question categorically. Not only did he explain the missiles in question, but also how they had happened to be what they were, and the earlier stages of their development. He gave his views on their relative value and the possibility of their future utility,--all while Ashley, who now sat next him, as they had chanced to shift their chairs when Mrs. Gwynn had entered, waited with quiet and polite patience for him to draw. Baynell did this at haphazard at last, and whether it was accident or Fate that the significant card was practically thrust into his heedless hand by the mischievous Ashley, his countenance fell at beholding the prognosis of single blessedness, so palpably, so preposterously, that the jovial Ashley could not restrain his bantering laughter. Baynell instantly presented the cards to him to draw in turn, but either favored by luck or having acquired some surrept.i.tious unfair knowledge of the outer aspect of the card, Ashley avoided the ill-omened pasteboard, and Baynell was at last left with the single card in his hand, while his triumphant friend made the room riotous with laughter, and the three "ladies" bent compa.s.sionate, tender eyes upon him, as if they antic.i.p.ated the conventional gush of tears.

They had grown very fond of him, and deeply felt the disaster that had befallen him.

"Oh, Captain Baynell, never mind! never mind!" cried the inspirational Adelaide. "_We'll_ marry you! _We'll_ marry you! You needn't be _so_ anxious!"

Once more Ashley's ringing merriment amazed the sympathetic "ladies."

Lucille cast a burning glance of reproof upon him. Then she held up three fingers to Captain Baynell to intimate that three brides awaited him.

"Ha! ha!" laughed Ashley. "Here's a settler for Utah, Judge. That's evidently the place for this fellow 'when this cruel war is over'!"

Judge Roscoe smilingly watched the benignant, commiserating little countenances.

Adelaide had gone around the table and was hanging on the arm of Captain Baynell's chair as she proffered consolation.

"Colonel Ashley wouldn't think it so mighty funny if _he_ had the Old Maid! But _don't_ mind, Captain. Why, _I_ know _Cousin Leonora_ would marry you, if n.o.body else would,--she always does anything when n.o.body else wants to."

The silver tones were singularly clear, and for a moment the group sat in appalled silence. Ashley did not laugh, though his face was still distended with the risible muscles. It was like a laughing mask--the form without the fact. He did not dare even to glance toward the chair where Mrs. Gwynn imperturbably perused the war news, nor yet at the stony terror which he felt was petrified on his friend's face. At that moment a vivid white light quivered horribly through the room and the repet.i.tious crashing clamor of the thunder was like a cannonade at close quarters. A great fibrous sound of the riving of timber told that a tree hard by had been split by the bolt; the torrents descended with redoubled force, and the ma.s.sive old house seemed to rock.

And in the moment of comparative quiet a new, strange sound intruded itself on recognition,--that most uncanny voice, the cry of a horse in the extremity of terror. It came again and again; at each successive peal of the thunder and recurrent furious flare of lightning it seemed nearer. It had a subterranean effect; and then after the crash of falling objects, as if some barrier had been overthrown, the iteration of unmistakable hoof beats on stone flagging announced that there was a horse in the cellar.

This phenomenon obviously indicated an effort to save the animal from the impress of horses for army service, which had been in progress for days and to which Colonel Ashley had alluded. Far away in the wine-cellar, in the safe precincts under the back drawing-room, which was rarely used nowadays, the horse had evidently been ensconced, and but for the storm his presence might have continued indefinitely undetected. The tremendous conflict of the powers of the air, the unfamiliar place, the loneliness, had stricken the creature with panic fright, and, doubtless hearing human voices in the library, he had overthrown temporary obstacles, burst down inadequate doors, and following the genial sound was now stamping and whinnying just beneath the floor. Colonel Ashley, affecting to note nothing unusual, dealt the cards anew, and commented on the fury of the tempest.

"I fancy you have lost one of your fine ancestral oaks, Judge. That bolt struck timber with a vengeance."

"We have the consolation of a prospect of firewood," responded Judge Roscoe. "But I doubt if it struck only one of the trees."

"I think I never before saw such a flash as that," remarked Ashley.

The horse in the cellar protested that _he_ never had. Then he fairly yelped at a comparatively mild suffusion followed by a dull roar of thunder, evidently antic.i.p.ating a renewal of the pyrotechnic horrors that had so terrified him.

Judge Roscoe maintained an imperturbable aspect, despite a certain mortification and a sense of derogation of dignity. He recognized this as a scheme of old Ephraim's. More than once he had so contrived the disappearance of the last milch cow that his master possessed as to save her from the foraging parties bent on beef. Chickens had experiences of invisibility that were not fatal, and though the carriage pair and the judge's saddle-horse had been the victims of surprise,--impressed long ago,--the old servant had again and again rescued a beautiful animal that Mrs. Gwynn owned and which had been a second gift from Judge Roscoe. Hearing betimes of the press orders from the soldiers, the "double-faced Ja.n.u.s" had besought Judge Roscoe to leave the concealment of Acrobat to him; and, although only a pa.s.sive factor in the enterprise, Judge Roscoe, as much surprised at the denouement as any one else, was forced to bear the brunt of the lamentable fiasco in which the secret had become public.

Baynell, though silent, looked extremely annoyed.

"This rainfall will raise the river considerably," Ashley commented.

"Shouldn't be surprised if the lower portions of the town are flooded already," said Judge Roscoe, throwing out a pair of matched cards.

"Those precincts are very ill situated," said Ashley.

The Houyhnhnm in the cellar protested that he was, too.

"High water must occasion considerable suffering among the poorer cla.s.s," rejoined the judge.

"But the locality could have been easily avoided in laying out Roanoke City. Draw, Captain--" Ashley broke off suddenly, being forced to remind the preoccupied Baynell of his turn to supply his hand.

"The commercial convenience of wharf.a.ge at low stages of water was doubtless the inducement," explained Judge Roscoe.

"To be sure,--minimizes the distance for loading freights," a.s.sented Ashley.

"Yes, the drays come to the very decks of the boats."

"_That_ was a pretty sharp flash," said Ashley.

"Oh, it was--it was!" whooped the Houyhnhnm from out the cellar. He evidently executed a sort of intricate pa.s.sado, to judge from the sound of his hysteric hoofs on the stone flagging.

"I hope your fine grove will sustain no more casualties," said Ashley.

"I hope, myself, the house won't be struck," whimpered the speculative Adelaide.

"Me, too! Me, too!" cried the horse.

"Draw, Captain,"--once more Ashley had occasion to rouse the absorbed Baynell.

At every inapposite, disaffected remark that the horse in the cellar saw fit to interject into the conversation, the twins, evidently well aware of the betrayal of the domestic secret by his loud-voiced intrusion into the apartment beneath the library, fully apprehending the disaster, at first looked aghast at each other, then referred it to the adjustment of superior wisdom by a long, earnest gaze at their grandfather.

Judge Roscoe could ill sustain the expectation of their childish comment. But he felt that his dignity was involved in ignoring that aught was amiss. His composure emulated Ashley's resolute placidity and well-bred, conventional determination to admittedly hear and see naught that was not intentionally addressed by his host to his observation.

Baynell gave no outward and obvious sign of notice, but the subcurrent of brooding thought that occupied his mind was token of his evident comprehension and a nettled annoyance. Perhaps they all felt the relief from the tension when Ashley, suddenly glancing toward the window, saw between the long red curtains the section of a clearing sky and the glitter of a star.

"The storm is over," he said. "I think, Judge, we might venture out now to view the damage. I trust there is not much timber down."

The three men trooped heavily out into the hall, and suddenly the challenge of the sentry rang forth, simultaneously with the sound of the approach of horses' hoofs and the jingle of military accoutrements.

Colonel Ashley's groom had bethought himself to bring up his master's charger in case he should care, since the weather had cleared, to return to camp. This Ashley preferred, despite Judge Roscoe's cordial insistence that he could put him up for the night without the slightest inconvenience.

As Ashley took leave of the family and galloped down the avenue in the chill damp air, and over the spongy turf, now and then constrained to turn aside to avoid fallen boughs, he had not even a vague prevision how short an interval was to elapse before chance should bring him back.

His expectation of meeting a charming young lady, with perhaps the sequel of an interesting flirtation, in which all his best qualities as squire of dames should be elicited for the admiration of the fair,--his preminence in singing, in quoting poetry, in saying pretty things, in horsemanship, above all the killing glances of his arch dark eyes, to say naught of the relish he always experienced in his own excellent pose as a lover, one of his favorite rles,--all had been nullified by Mrs.

Gwynn's unresponsiveness. His vanity was touched, upon reflecting on the events of the evening. He did not feel entreated according to his merits by her att.i.tude of a faded and elderly widow-woman, and his relegation to the puerilities of the little Old Maids, or little "ladies," or whatever they called themselves (certainly not the first), with Baynell playing the stick, and the old judge merely a galvanized Opinion. He resolved that he would stick to camp hereafter. He knew a game of "Draw"