Harvard Stories Part 23

Rattleton had stopped short. "Look here," he said, "you go warn those Comanches, and keep them in bounds. I am going to talk to her."

"Why, do you know her?" queried Hollis a little surprised.

"Oh, yes,--slightly,--well enough to speak to. You go along."

Holworthy went to the back of the hotel, and Jack towards the two ladies.

"Why, how do you do, Mr. Rattleton," said the younger one, as he came up and bowed. "Let me present you to my aunt, Mrs. West."

"Are you staying in the hotel?" asked Jack after the opening salutations. Just at this moment he heard, from the direction of the billiard-room, the silvery voice of Mr. Edward Burleigh, leading the cheerful workers in the strains of a hymn. He was greatly relieved when Mrs. West answered, "No, we are staying in one of the cottages, and came over here only for dinner. Ethel, my dear, I think we had better go back now. You will walk over with us, Mr. Rattleton, will you not?"

"With pleasure," answered Rattleton, truthfully. "Do you mind my dog?"

On the contrary, they thought Blathers a lovely dog, and all four went over to a quiet cottage at a little distance from the hotel. The veranda looked out over the beautiful river and was most inviting. It was apparently not so, however, to Mrs. West; for as she went up the steps, she said: "I feel a little chilly, and am going in doors, Ethel. You may stay out here for a little while, if you like." Ethel did like and went over to a pair of chairs. As she pa.s.sed through the light of an open door, Jack caught sight of a bit of blue ribbon pinned on her dress. He sat down opposite her, and opened the conversation, by remarking, "You are on the other side of the fence, I see."

"Oh, yes," she answered. "Don't you know that I have a cousin on the Yale crew? I am very proud of him."

"Oh, have you?" said Jack, with an inward groan. "I didn't know it.

Well, I never was a really clever, polite liar, but I am not such a transparent one as to say that I hope he will win."

A little rippling laugh followed this confession. "No, you had better not strain the truth to that extent. I will forgive you for sticking to your colors and for being so frank about it."

"It is not only because I am a Harvard man that I want to see our crew win," Jack went on with a sort of gulp, "it is also because the most splendid man I ever knew, and one of my best friends, is in the boat. He has been through an awful mill, and deserves to win if ever a man did."

"Indeed?" came the question, perfectly uninterestedly. "And who is that?"

"A man named Rivers. Do you happen to know him?" Rattleton tried to see in the moonlight whether or not there was any more color in her cheek; but he couldn't. Besides, he had enough to do in looking after his own face. He felt cold all over.

"Oh, yes, I know him quite well," she answered, quite carelessly. "Nice fellow."

"He is more than that, he is a hero," declared Jack. "You can hardly form any idea of what that chap has been through this year, and the way he has borne it all is splendid. He has had all sorts of troubles; his governor died; he was blue about his exchequer; and last, and worst of all,"--Jack was glad the moonlight was kind to him also, but looked at his boots, nevertheless,--"I am perfectly certain that he fell in love with some girl and got a facer."

"A what?" exclaimed his listener.

"I beg your pardon--a staggering blow in the face, metaphorical, of course. I have got so in the habit of using slang, that I fear I am not fit to talk to a lady. I beg you will forgive me for bringing such prize-ring language to your ears."

"It is very expressive, at least," she said. "And did Mr. Rivers tell you that he had received a facer?"

"No, no, no," protested Jack, "of course not. I don't _know_ it, I only suspected it from his actions and condition. I don't even know, of course, who the girl is. But whoever she may be, she is making a big mistake. She is throwing away the most magnificent fellow in the world.

If she does not amount to anything," he went on slowly, "I am glad she doesn't take him, for Charley ought not to be wasted on her. But if she is the most beautiful, gentle, sweet woman who ever lived, then, by Jove, such a pair ought to be married. And I am sure she must be just that, or else, you know, Rivers would not have fallen in love with her.

Don't you think so?"

Rattleton's hair was rigid at his boldness and impertinence, but his hair had nothing to do with his speaking apparatus. His heart was taking charge of that, moving it very slowly and just a little hoa.r.s.ely.

"Why, what devout hero wors.h.i.+p!" said the girl with a smile. "No, I don't think anything of the kind. He might have fallen in love with some one entirely unworthy of him, or, what is more, who did not care for him. No matter how perfect she might be, you would not have her marry if she did not love him, would you?"

"No--o," a.s.sented Jack, reluctantly, "but she ought to love him."

"He must, indeed, be all that you paint him, then," she laughed, "but love does not necessarily take to paragons, you know. Why do you admire him so very much?"

"Because I have known him like a brother for four years," answered Jack, earnestly. "Oh, if you knew him as well as I do, you would----you wouldn't think I was exaggerating."

"What made you think him so desperately in love?"

"Oh, I don't know. I think it is unmistakable," was Jack's weak reply.

"Only those can tell who have themselves been in that condition--they say," came the laughing response.

Jack's finger-nails went into his palms. "No, no," he stammered, "no,--I can tell. Oh, you ought to have seen him," he went on, desperately. "The way he went to work at that rowing after it all, showed his sand. If they lose to-morrow, I believe his plucky old heart will break right in two."

"And is his 'sand,' as you call it, restricted to rowing a boat-race?"

"No, I didn't mean to imply that. He will go on working to win that girl in every way he can, I am sure. I only meant that his conduct about his training, in such a hard time, shows what stuff he has in him."

"Do you think, then, that winning a boat-race is the best way to win a wife? Might not Mr. Rivers find some higher field for his qualities? Is it not a little childish to make an athletic contest the aim of a man's life? Do you think the only pluck worth admiring is that which goes with muscle?"

Jack had heard endless discussions on this subject, and was ready for these questions, "No," he said in answer to the last one, "I don't think anything of the kind. Please don't imagine that at Harvard we are nothing but gladiator wors.h.i.+ppers. We admire a plucky athlete, it is true, but not because he is strong or successful, only because of his grit and self-denial. Of course we want him to put the Crimson ahead, but we like him none the less if he fails, provided he has done his best and done it like a gentleman. We admire the same qualities just as much when we see them in any other field than that of athletics, but I suppose we don't recognize them so easily. But in that our little world is not so different from the big one. Now I am going to ask you some questions. Has any man during the last seventy years been elected President of these United States for his greatness, unless he was a soldier? Has not the general been preferred time and again to the statesman? Has not the warrior always been dear to the heart of the people, while other men, who have hammered away all their lives with longer-winded pluck and perseverance, must content themselves with secondary honor? The reason of this must be that when a man does his duty on the battle-field, his merit is more patent to the people than in the harder and less showy struggle of civil life. Are we youngsters, then, so very much younger than the old and wise ones who criticise us?

Why, you yourself just now said that you were proud of your cousin because he was on the Yale crew."

"Oh, no, I didn't say that," laughed the girl; "I only said that he was on the Yale crew and I was very proud of him. Why, Mr. Rattleton, what a sharp pleader you are! I had no idea that your talents lay in that direction."

"By Jove! neither had I," exclaimed the ingenuous Jack, really wondering and somewhat abashed at his unaccustomed volubility. "I am only trying, you know, to repeat what I have heard other fellows say," he confessed, apologetically. "I suppose I have got it all mixed up and am talking like a fool, but please make allowances for me, because I am one, you know."

"No you are not at all," she said slowly, to Jack's great relief. "But don't you think that you rather belittle yourself and your fellows by being too humble, and comparing yourselves with people who have not had your advantages? Ought not educated men, men of the same school that has produced our greatest thinkers and workers, ought they not to discern between the showy and the solid? Should the manliness of the athlete be any more patent to them than the higher courage of the student?"

"I suppose not," admitted Jack, resignedly. "That is just what Holworthy always says. I tell him he is a prig, but of course he is right, and so are you. But nevertheless, childish or not, I cannot help admiring such a man as Charlie Rivers for the qualities he has shown. He has been so strong and patient and loyal,--oh! such a _man_. No, even if it is all wasted as you say, you can never convince me that I ought not to love him for it."

There was silence for a moment, and then came the admission very softly.

"No, I don't think I can." Jack's finger-nails went into his palms again.

A moment later she arose and said: "Really I ought not to keep my aunt up any longer. I must say good-night, Mr. Rattleton."

Jack jumped to his feet. "I beg your pardon for staying so late," he said. "The time has gone fast. And--er--by-the-way," he continued, a little awkwardly. "I have done wrong in talking so much about Rivers'

trouble. Of course, I really know nothing about it, and it is none of my affair, you know, anyway. Please don't think that I am in the habit of gossiping about other men in this way. I got rather carried away to-night, I am afraid. I beg you won't say anything about it to any one."

"I never make conversation out of such things, Mr. Rattleton," she answered. "You may depend that I shall not repeat it to a soul. And now good-night."

She looked into his eyes with a radiant smile, and held out her hand.

Jack took it as if he were afraid of breaking the little thing, and then dropped it quickly. "Good-night," he said, shortly, and went down the steps and over the lawn, followed by Mr. Blathers.

She stood for a moment and watched him putting great stretches of moonlit gra.s.s behind his long thin legs, the little dark figure trotting beside him. Then she went in, threw her arms around her aunt's neck, and kissed her.

"Has Mr. Rattleton gone?" asked Mrs. West. "He seems like a nice fellow."

"Yes, and he is one. When I first met him, I thought him easy enough to understand, and like every other boy; but I can't quite make him out now. At any rate he is a species new to me and an interesting one"; and she ran up-stairs to her room, singing.

Jack Rattleton strode along the river bank and out to the end of the Pequot pier. He stood there for a minute, looking over the river and Sound, then sat down on a bench. That enchantress, the moon, was aided in her fairy work by the riding lights of the dark fleet of yachts at anchor, and by the colored sailing lights of the becalmed late comers drifting in from the Sound. But the lights only hurt his eyes. He had sat there some time when he heard his name spoken.

"Beautiful, isn't it," said Holworthy, behind him.