Hope Hathaway Part 34

"Has he any family?" she suddenly asked. "I mean--_children_, Clarice."

"I don't think so. But what difference would that make?"

"No difference in reality--but a heap of difference in my thoughts. If he had a family,--children,--it would seem more natural to think of him as being a married man, a family man. As it is, I will remember him as a true-hearted, free young Englishman."

"I think, Hopie, his being married has spoiled a very pretty romance. I wish it might have been different, dear!"

"You are too sleepy to know what you think. Go to sleep and dream that I shall join you in New York as soon as the school is ended."

CHAPTER XXVIII

It seemed an interminable time to Hope, although it was in reality less than an hour, before the breathing of the two sleepers a.s.sured her that she could leave the tent in safety.

When she stood outside, at the edge of the cut-bank, casting a quick glance over the tents behind, it seemed to her that the moonlight was brighter than ever. It was like a soft hazy day. She made her way toward a dark object on the opposite side of the brush, the same that had attracted Sydney an hour before. This time the small object did not conceal itself, but stood boldly forth.

"I thought you wasn't never comin'," said the boy softly. "It must be 'bout mornin' by now. Seems all night! We'll haf to ride like blazes if we get there now in time! They're over here," he said, leading the way along a winding trail around the side of a wooded hill.

"You're a good boy," said the girl.

"You bet I had the awfulest time gettin' away with your saddle! Every time I'd get up near it that blame cook'd pop his head out of the tent.

I like to never got it a tall!"

"But you did get it," said Hope. "I saw that it wasn't there."

"Yep, an' the blanket an' bridle. I've got 'em all cached up here in the trees--horses an' everything, an' your horse is saddled. Somebody rode up while I was waitin' down there on the bank for you, an' I just had to lay low, I tell you!"

"Come, hurry!" whispered the girl. "We've got to kill our horses to-night!"

"Oh, I've got Dave's pinto, so I don't care," replied the child. Then after an instant's pause in which they reached their horses: "You couldn't kill this pinto, nohow!"

Perhaps, thought Hope, it would not kill her horse either. She trusted not, for she loved the animal dearly. But it would be a ride for their very lives if the soldiers were to reach there in time to avert the mischief.

It was a ride for their lives. Ten miles at night over a rough country, through tangled underbrush, and deep matted gra.s.s, across stony creek bottoms and rocky hills, ever onward toward Fox Creek at the speed of the wind.

Time and again the horses stumbled to their knees, but the riders might have been a part of them, so securely did they keep their seats. The pinto began to lag, at which the girl stopped for an instant, rode behind, and lashed it furiously with her strong quirt. Then for a time it kept up with the thoroughbred, but could not long continue the speed.

Upon a high knoll the girl reined up, horse and rider waiting, motionless as a carved statue, for the pinto, whose easy, graceful running gait had changed to short rabbit-like leaps.

"Wish I had another string o' horses!" gasped the child, as he at length gained the top of the hill. The girl pointed down the dwindling foot-hills to something small and white in the distance.

"See, there are the tents--a mile away. The soldiers--two troops of them--out on a pleasure trip. I will go on--you take your time, and go back with the men."

"I want to go with _you_," declared the boy, half crying.

"No," said the girl coaxingly. "You must be their guide, and lead them to the ledge of rocks by the sheep-shed. Think how fine it will be to be a _real_ soldier." Then appalled by a new thought: "Oh, but if you should get tired and _couldn't_ lead them there, how would they ever find the place? _What shall I do!_ I can't wait for them--I must go back ahead. _If_ he shouldn't be there! If something should have warned or detained him! _What will I do!_"

"Oh, shoot it all, _I'll_ take 'em there all right!" exclaimed the boy, in a very big voice. "Don't you worry. I ain't a bit tired, an' I ain't a-goin' to be, neither!"

Hope reached over and clasped the child in her arms, a sob coming with her breath.

"_My little man!_" she said softly. Then instructing him to follow her, spurred up her horse to a fresh attempt, and so mad was her ride that she scarcely breathed until she dropped to the ground beside a sentinel who commanded her to halt.

How she roused the camp in the middle of the night was a story Larry O'Hara often delighted to relate. It was Larry who really came to the rescue, who shouldered the responsibility of the action, and led the troops when finally equipped to the scene of the disturbance.

And Hope rode back alone--rode so rapidly that her horse stopped, exhausted, at the foot of the big hill where she had planned the rendezvous with Livingston. There she left the n.o.ble animal and climbed up toward the summit, sometimes on her hands and knees, so tired had she become. And the moon still shone brightly along the horizon of the heavens. An hour of brilliancy, she thought, then darkness before the dawn. When she had dragged herself up the mountain side, hope and fear alternately filling her heart, and hastening her footsteps, a sudden weakness came over her as she saw on the summit the stalwart figure of Livingston. Then it seemed to her that the night had been a mere dream, or at least ridiculous. How could such a strong, brave-looking man require a girl's a.s.sistance? It was preposterous! She seemed to shrink into herself, in a little cuddled heap among the rocks.

Then a clear whistle sounded on the still air. She knew it was for her.

How like a boy, she thought. She tried to answer it, but could not make a sound.

Finally she rose from the rocks and approached him--not the Hope he had expected, but a frightened, trembling girl.

He went to meet her, after the manner of a boy, and clasped the hands she gave him in his own, then kissed each one, and gravely led her to the summit upon which he had been standing.

"This rock is like a great throne," he said, "where we are going to wait our crown of happiness that is to come with the rising of the sun. Is it not so? See, you shall sit upon the throne and I here at your feet. How you are trembling, dear! And those heavy guns, why did you bring them?"

"To protect myself, perhaps, from one who is inclined to be over-bold,"

she replied, with a little nervous laugh as she settled herself comfortably on the throne-like rock.

"Hope!" he reproved. A red flush dyed the girl's face.

"And are you not the man?" she inquired.

"Tell me then," he said quietly, "who has a better right!"

She drew back into the very recess of the throne, away from his eyes, so convincingly near to hers.

"It's a long climb up this steep mountain," she remarked weariedly.

"And you are tired! I can see it now. But it was good of you to come to meet me here like this, Hope--_sweetheart_!"

"No, no! you must not talk like that!" cried the girl.

"You know I cannot help it when I am with you. I must tell you over and over that I love you--_love you_, Hope! Why not, when my heart sings it all the time? And have you not given me the _right_, dear?"

"Wait! Not now," she said more softly. "Talk about something else--_anything_," she gasped.

"And must I humor you, my queen," he said. "Look down and let me read in your eyes what I want to find there--then I will talk about anything, everything, until you want to hear what is in my heart!"

"Only daylight can reveal what is in my eyes," she replied. "The light of the moon is unreal, deceiving. Tell me how long you have been here, and where did you leave your horse?"

"You are evading me for some reason. If I did not believe it to be impossible, I should say that I am nervous--and that you are nervous.

Can you not be yourself to me now--at this time? Why did you want me to meet you here?"

"You say you love me. Then aren't you content to just sit here in silence beside me?"