Ailsa Paige Part 72

"I came here on purpose to talk to you about another matter... . Shall we step inside? Or"-he glanced sharply around, lantern held above his head-"I guess we're better off out here."

Berkley silently a.s.sented. The doctor considered the matter in mind for a while, nursing his knees, then looking directly at Berkley:

"Phil, you once told roe a deliberate falsehood."

Berkley's face flushed scarlet, and he stiffened in every muscle.

The doctor said: "I merely wanted you to understand that I knew it to be a falsehood when you uttered it. I penetrated your motive in telling it, let it go at that, and kept both eyes open-and waited."

Berkley never moved. The painful colour stained the scar on his brow to an ugly purple.

"The consequences of which falsehood," continued the doctor, "culminated in my asking Miss Lynden to marry me... . I've been thinking-wondering-whether that lie was justifiable. And I've given up the problem. But I respect your motive in telling it. It's a matter for you to settle privately with yourself and your Maker. I'm no Jesuit by nature; but-well-you've played a man's part in the life of a young and friendless girl who has become to me the embodiment of all I care for in woman. And I thank you for that. I thank you for giving her the only thing she lacked-a chance in the world. Perhaps there were other ways of doing it. I don't know. All I know is that I thank you for giving her the chance."

He ceased abruptly, folded Ins arms, and gazed musingly into s.p.a.ce.

Then: "Phil, have you ever injured a man named Eugene Hallam, Captain of your troop in the 8th Lancers?"

Berkley looked up, startled; and the hot colour began to fade.

"What do you know about Captain Hallam?" he asked.

"Where is he?"

"Probably a prisoner. He was taken at the cavalry affair which they now call Yellow Run."

"You saw him taken by the enemy?"

"No. I saw him-surrender-or rather, ride toward the enemy, apparently with that design in mind."

"Why don't you say that Hallam played the coward-that he deserted his men under fire-was even shot at by his own colonel?"

"You seem to know about it," said Berkley in a mortified voice... . "No man is anxious to reflect on his own regiment. That is why I did not mention it."

"Yes, I knew it. Your servant, the trooper Burgess, came to Paigecourt in search of you. I heard the detestable details from him. He was one of the detachment that got penned in; he saw the entire performance."

"I didn't know Burgess was there," said Berkley. "Is he all right?"

"Wears his left wrist in a sling; Colles's fracture; horse fell. He's a villainous-looking party; I wouldn't trust that fellow with a pewter b.u.t.ton. But he seems devoted to you."

"I've never been able to make him out," said Berkley, smiling.

The doctor thought a minute.

"I saw two interesting people at Paigecourt. One was Miss Dix, an old friend of mine; the other chanced to be Surgeon General Hammond. They were on a tour of inspection. I hope they liked what they saw."

"Did they?"

"I guess not... . Things in the hospitals ought to go better now. We're learning... . By the way, you didn't know that Ailsa Paige had been to Paigecourt, did you?"

"When?"

"Recently... . She's another fine woman. She never had an illness worse than whooping cough. I know because I've always been her physician. Normally she's a fine, wholesome woman, Berkley-but she told a falsehood... . You are not the only liar south of Dixon's d.a.m.nable Line!"

Berkley straightened up as though shot, and the doctor dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"The sort of lie you told, Phil, is the kind she told. It doesn't concern you or me; it's between her conscience and herself; and it's in a good safe place... . And now I'll sketch out for you what she did. This-this beast, Hallam, wrote to Miss Dix at Was.h.i.+ngton and preferred charges against Miss Lynden... . I'm trying to speak calmly and coherently and without pa.s.sion, d.a.m.n it! Don't interrupt me... . I say that Hallam sent his written evidence to Miss Dix; and Ailsa Paige learned of it, and learned also what the evidence was... . And it was a terrible thing for her to learn, Phil-a d.a.m.nable thing for a woman to learn."

He tightened his grasp on Berkley's shoulder, and his voice was not very steady.

"To believe those charges-that evidence-meant the death of her faith in you... . As for the unhappy revelation of what Miss Lynden had been-the evidence was hopelessly conclusive. Imagine what she thought! Any other woman would have sat aloof and let justice brand the woman who had doubly betrayed her. I want you to consider it; every instinct of loyalty, friends.h.i.+p, trust, modesty had apparently been outraged and trampled on by the man she had given her heart to, and by the woman she had made a friend. That was the position in which Ailsa Paige found herself when she learned of these charges, saw the evidence, and was informed by Hallam that he had forwarded his complaint."

His grip almost crushed Berkley's shoulder muscles.

"And now I'll tell you what Ailsa Paige did. She went before Miss Dix and told her that there was not one atom of truth in the charges. She accounted for every date specified by saying that Miss Lynden was with her at those times, that she had known her intimately for years, known her family-that it was purely a case of mistaken ident.i.ty, which, if ever pressed, would bewilder her friend, who was neither sufficiently experienced to understand what such charges meant, nor strong enough to endure the horror and shock if their nature were explained.

"She haughtily affirmed her absolute faith in you, avowed her engagement to marry you, pointed to your splendid military record; disdainfully exposed the motive for Hallam's action... . And she convinced Miss Dix, who, in turn, convinced the Surgeon General. And, in consequence, I can now take my little girl away from here on furlough, thank G.o.d!-and thanks to Ailsa Paige, who lied like a martyr in her behalf. And that's what I came here to tell you."

He drew a long, shuddering breath, his hand relaxed on Berkley's shoulder, and fell away.

"I don't know to-day what Ailsa Paige believes; but I know what she did for the sake of a young girl... . If, in any way, her faith in you has been poisoned, remember what was laid before her, proven in black and white, apparently; remember, more than that, the terrible and physically demoralising strain she has been under in the line of duty. No human mind can remain healthy very long under such circ.u.mstances; no reasoning can be normal. The small daily vexations, the wear and tear of nerve tissue, the insufficient sleep and nourishment, the close confinement in the hospital atmosphere, the sights, sounds, odours, the excitement, the anxiety-all combine to distort reason and undermine one's natural equipoise.

"Phil, if Ailsa, in her own heart, doubts you as she now doubts Letty, you must understand why. What she did shows her courage, her sweetness, her n.o.bility. What she may believe-or think she believes-is born only of morbid nerves, overworked body, and a crippled power of reasoning. Her furlough is on the way; I did myself the honour to solicit it, and to interest Miss Dix in her behalf. It is high time; the child cannot stand much more... . After a good rest in the North, if she desires to return, there is n.o.body to prevent her ... unless you are wise enough to marry her. What do you think?"

Berkley made no answer. They remained silent for a long time. Then the doctor rose and picked up his lantern; and Berkley stood up, too, taking the doctor's outstretched hand.

"If I were you, Phil, I'd marry her," said Benton. "Good-night.

I'll see Colonel Arran in the morning. Good-night, my boy."

"Good-night," said Berkley in a dull voice.

Midnight found him pacing the dead sod in front of the veranda, under the stars. One by one the lights in the hospital had been extinguished; a lantern glimmered at the guard-house; here and there an illuminated window cast its oblong of paler light across the gra.s.s. Southward the crimson radiance had died out; softened echoes of distant gunshots marked the pa.s.sing of the slow, dark hours, but the fitful picket firing was now no louder than the deadened stamp of horses in their stalls.

A faint scent of jasmine hung in the air, making it fresher, though no breeze stirred.

He stood for a while, face upturned to the stars, then his head fell. Sabre trailing, he moved slowly out into the open; and, at random, wandered into the little lane that led darkly down under green bushes to Letty's bridge.

It was fresher and cooler in the lane; starlight made the planking of the little foot-bridge visible in the dark, but the stream ran under it too noiselessly for him to hear the water moving over its bed of velvet sand.

A startled whippoorwill flashed into shadowy night from the rail as he laid his hand upon it, and, searching for the seat which Letty's invalid had built for her, he sank down, burying his head in his hands.

And, as he sat there, a vague shape, motionless in the starlight, stirred, moved silently, detaching itself from the depthless wall of shadow.

There was a light step on the gra.s.s, a faint sound from the bridge. But he heard nothing until she sank down on the flooring at his feet and dropped her head, face downward, on his knees.

As in a dream his hands fell from his eyes-fell on her shoulders, lay heavily inert.

"Ailsa?"

Her feverish face quivered, hiding closer; one small hand searched blindly for his arm, closed on his sleeve, and clung there. He could feel her slender body tremble at intervals, under his lips, resting on her hair, her breath grew warm with tears.

She lay there, minute after minute, her hand on his sleeve, slipping, tightening, while her tired heart throbbed out its heavy burden on his knees, and her tears fell under the stars.