Westways: A Village Chronicle Part 58

He did not succeed in diverting her attention. She put out a thin hand and caught his sleeve. "Do you think me unreasonable, James?"

"Yes," he said, and it needed courage.

"I was sure you would say so." The great blue eyes, larger for the wasted setting of nature's wonderful jewels, looked up at him in dumb appeal. "Won't you think a little of how I feel-and-and shall feel?"

"Think a little-a little?" he returned; "I have done nothing else but think."

"You don't answer me, James." There was the old quiet, persistent way he had known in many happy days, reinforced by hysteric incapacity to comprehend the maze of difficulties in which he was caught.

"It is a pity I did not die," she said, "that would have saved you all this trouble."

He felt the cruelty of her words as he broke away and left the room. McGregor had waited, and hearing his story said, "It will pa.s.s. You must not mind it-she is hardly sane."

James Penhallow mounted and rode to the village, was duly shaved, and went on to the post-office. Mrs. Crocker rotund and rosy came out and handed him as he sat in the saddle a sheaf of letters. "Yes, Mrs. Penhallow is better, thank you." As he rode away the reins on Dixy's neck, he read his letters and stuffed them in his pocket until he came to one, over which he lingered long. It ran thus:

"MY DEAR SIR: Will you not reconsider the offer of the colonelcy of a regiment? It will not require your presence until July. There is no need to reply at once. There is no one else so entirely fit for such a charge, and the Attorney-General, your friend Meredith, unites with me in my appeal to you. The State and the country need you.

"Yours truly,

"ANDREW CURTIN."

He reached but one conclusion as he turned the tempting offer over in his mind, and acting on it wrote the Governor from his office that his wife was at present too ill for him to consider the offer of a command.

As day by day he sat with Ann, to his relief she ceased to dwell on the matter which had so disturbed her, and rapidly regaining health, flesh and strength, began to ask about the house and the village people. It was a happy day when in May he carried her down to a hammock on the porch. A week later she spoke again, "What conclusion have you reached?" she said.

"About the mills?"

"Yes."

"Ask me in a week, Ann. Do you want to read John's letters? There are several-one about a battle at Pittsburgh Landing in Tennessee."

"I want to hear nothing of the war. Is he well?"

"Yes, thank G.o.d." The news of McClellan's army was anything but satisfactory, and more and more the soldier longed to be in the field.

Early in June, Penhallow on his way to meet his partners paused at McGregor's house to ask his opinion of his wife. "How do I find her?

Better every day-more herself. But what of you?"

"Of me? I can stand it no longer, Doctor. I cannot see this war in Virginia go on to the end without taking part in it. I must-do anything-anything-make any sacrifice."

"But your wife-the mills-"

"I have but one answer-my country! I told you I had refused Governor Curtin's offer-what to do about our contract I do not yet know. They are reorganizing the artillery service."

"And you would like that best?"

"Yes. What amuses you?"

The doctor smiled often, but as Mrs. Crocker said, when he did laugh it was as good as a Fourth of July celebration and the house shook. As the Squire watched him, the smile broadened out in circles from the mouth like the ripples cast by a stone on still water; then the eyes grew merrily busy and the big frame shook with laughter.

"Well, now, Squire! To give up making guns and go in for using them-well-well!"

"Don't chaff me, McGregor; I mean to be in it, cost what it may. I am to meet my partners-good-bye."

The doctor wondered what Ann Penhallow would do or say. It was past guessing but he saw clearly that Penhallow was glad of any excuse to get into the field.

"Glad to see you, Ainseley," said Penhallow. "Good morning, Sibley. You will find things moving. Many casting moulds will be ready by this day week."

"Last night," said Sibley, the richer member of the firm, "I had a telegram from Austin, the iron-man. He asks what we would take to transfer our contract. I replied that we did not deal that way with Government contracts. To-day I got this other-read it."

"On what terms will you take me in? My ore, as you know, is not hemat.i.te and is better than yours."

Penhallow sat still reading the telegram again and again. Here was an unlooked-for way out of his troubles. At last he looked up, and to their surprise said, "My capital in the business is one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and you-the firm-pay me a rental of ten thousand."

"Not last year," said Ainseley; "we could not, as you know."

"Yes. Our partnership ends this July 1st. Wire Austin that I will sell him my share and go out. You may ask him what bonus you please-I mean, I will sell to you at one hundred and fifty thousand dollars-the rental will go on, of course."

"My heavens!" cried Sibley, "what do you mean? It is throwing away a fortune, man-a fortune."

Penhallow laughed. "And yet I mean to do it. The work is ready to go on.

You will have ordnance officers here-you won't miss me."

They argued with him in vain. Waldron not altogether dissatisfied sat still, wondering how much bonus Austin would stand, while Ainseley and Sibley troubled for their friend and not well pleased, fought his decision. "Are you fully resolved on this, Penhallow?" said Sibley.

"I am. I cannot take out the small amount of money John Penhallow owns.

It must remain, at least for a time, and will be a convenience to you.

My wife's money is already out. It was only a loan."

"But why should not you sell out to Austin," said Sibley, "if you mean to leave us, and get out of him a profit-and why after all this act of supreme folly? Pardon me, it is that-really that"

Penhallow smiled. "I go out of this business because I simply cannot stay out of the army. I could not be a soldier and accept continuous profits from a Government contract. Imagine what would be said! For the same reason I cannot sell to Austin at an advance. That is clear-is it not?"

"Yes," said Ainseley, "and I am sorry. Think it over."

"I have done my thinking. It will take the lawyers and you at least two months to settle it and make out the papers. After July 1st I shall not come to the mills. I mean to leave no occasion for unpleasant comment when I re-enter the service. Of course, you will advertise your new partnership and make plain my position. I am sorry to leave you, but most glad to leave you prosperous. I will put it all on paper, with a condition that at the close of the war-I give it three years-I shall be free to replace Austin-that is, if the Rebs don't kill me."

As he mounted at evening to ride home, he was aware of Leila. "Halloa, Uncle Jim! As Mr. Rivers was reading Dante to Aunt Ann, I begged off, and so here I am-thought I would catch you. I haven't been on a horse for a week. The mare knows it and enjoyed the holiday. She kicked Pole's bull terrier into the middle of next week."

"A notable feat. I wish some one would kick me into the middle of August."

"What's wrong, Uncle Jim? Aunt Ann is every day better; John is well; you don't look unhappy. Oh, I know when anything really is the matter."

"No, I am happier than I have been for many a day. You know what Rivers says, 'In the Inn of Decision there is rest,'-some oriental nonsense. Well, I am a guest in the Inn of Decision, but I've got to pay the bill."

"Please not to talk riddles, uncle. I have gone through so much this spring-what with aunt and this terrible war-and where John is we don't know. I heard from Aunt Margaret. She says that we escape the endless reminders of war-the extras called at night, heard in church, great battle on the Potomac, lists of killed and wounded. It must be awful. You buy a paper-and find there was no battle."

"Yes, we escape that at least. I have made arrangements to close my partnership on July 1st."

"Oh, Uncle Jim!"

"The President, I hear, will call for three hundred thousand men-I can stand it no longer-I am eating my heart out. I refused a regiment some time ago; now I shall ask for one. I wrote at once to the Governor."