"What do you think," cried Mrs. Atchison, glowing before Jerry and Ardmore on their return; "we have a new guest!"
"In the coal cellar?" inquired her brother.
"No, in the blue room adjoining Miss Dangerfield's! And what do you think! It is none other than the daughter of the governor of South Carolina."
"Oh, Nellie!" gasped Ardmore.
"Why, what's the matter?" demanded Mrs. Atchison. "I had gone in to Turner's to look at that memorial church we're building there, and I learned from the rector that Miss Osborne, with only a maid, was stopping at that wretched hole called the Majestic Hotel. I had met Miss Osborne in Washington last winter, and you may forget, Tommy, that on our mother's side I am a Daughter of the Seminole War, a society of which Miss Osborne is the president-general. I hope Miss Osborne's presence here will not be offensive to you, MissDangerfield. She seemed reluctant to come, but I simply would not take no, and I am to send for her at four o'clock."
"Miss Osborne's presence is not only agreeable to me, Mrs. Atchison," responded Jerry, "but I shall join you in welcoming her. I have heard that the ancestor through whom Barbara Osborne derives membership in the Daughters of the Seminole War was afterward convicted of robbing an orphan of whose estate he was the trusted executor, and such being the case I feel that the commonest Christian charity demands that I should treat her with the most kindly consideration. I shall gather some roses, with your permission, and have them waiting in her room when she arrives, with my card and compliments."
Ardmore had rarely been so busy as during the afternoon. Several more newspaper correspondents were found prowling about the estate, and they were added to the howling mob in the Ardsley cellars. Collins searched them and read their instructions with interest. They were all commissioned to find the lost governors of North and South Carolina; and a number were instructed to investigate a rumor that North Carolina was about to default her bonds through malfeasance of thestate treasurer. It was clear from the fact that practically every newspaper in New York had sent its best man to the field that the world waited anxiously for news from the border.
"It has all happened very handily for us," said Collins; "we've got the highest-priced newspaper talent in the world right under our hands, and before we turn them loose we'll dictate exactly what history is to know of these dark proceedings. Those fellows couldn't get anything out of either Kildare or Turner's for some time, as Paul's men have cut the wires and Cooke has operators at the railway stations to see that nothing is sent out."
"When we've settled with Griswold and proved to him that he's lost out and that the real Mr. Appleweight is in his jail, not ours, we'll have to find Governor Dangerfield and be mighty quick about it," replied Ardmore. "Paul says there's a battery of South Carolina artillery guarding the Dilwell County jail, and that they've fooled the people into thinking they're North Carolina troops, and nobody can get within four blocks of the jail. They must have somebody in jail at Kildare. I don't like the looks of it. I hope those men we left guarding old Appleweight in the Mingo jail know theirbusiness. It would be nasty to lose that old chap after all the trouble he's given us."
"They'll keep him or eat him, if I know old Cookie."
Jerry—a pleasing figure to contemplate in white lawn and blue ribbons—suggested that the meeting take place in the library, as more like an imperial council chamber; but Ardmore warmly dissented from this. A peace should never be signed, he maintained, in so large a house as Ardsley. At Appomattox and in many other cases that he recalled, the opponents met in humble farmhouses. It would be well, however, to have the meeting on the estate, for the property would thus become historic, but it would never do to have it take place in the Ardsley library.
"There should be great difficulty in securing pens and paper," Ardmore continued, "and we must decline to accept the swords of our fallen foes."
They finally agreed on the red bungalow as convenient and sufficiently modest for the purpose. And so it was arranged.
A few minutes before five the flag of North Carolina was hung from the wide veranda of the bungalow. At the door stood an armed militiaman. Colonel Daubenspeck had been invited to be present, and he appearedaccompanied by several other officers in full uniform. Word of the meeting place had been sent through the lines to the enemy, and the messenger rode back with Griswold, who was followed quickly by the adjutant-general of South Carolina and half a dozen other officers. The guard saluted as Griswold ran up the steps of the veranda, and at the door Ardmore met him and greeted him formally.
At the end of a long table Jerry Dangerfield sat with her arms folded. She wore, as befitting the occasion, a gray riding-dress and a gray felt hat perched a trifle to one side.
She bowed coldly to Griswold, whose hand, as he surveyed the room and glanced out at the flag that fluttered in the doorway, went to his mustache with that gesture that Ardmore so greatly disliked; but Griswold again bowed gravely to his adversaries.
"Miss Dangerfield, and gentlemen," began Griswold, with an air of addressing a supreme tribunal, "I believe this whole matter depends upon the arrest of one Appleweight, a well-known outlaw of North Carolina—"
"I beg your pardon—"
It was Jerry who interrupted him, her little fists clenching, a glint of fire in her eyes.
"It is for me to ask your pardon, Miss Dangerfield! Let us agree that this person is an unworthy citizen of any state, and proceed. It has been your endeavor to see this man under arrest in South Carolina, thus relieving North Carolina or her chief executive of responsibility for him. We, on our side, have used every effort to lodge Appleweight in jail on your side of the state line. Am I correct?"
Jerry nodded affirmatively.
"Then, Miss Dangerfield, and gentlemen, I must tell you that you have lost your contention, for Appleweight spent last night in jail at Kildare, and to secure his safe retention there, we generously lent your state a few of our militia to guard him. The proceeding was a trifle irregular, we admit—the least bitultra vires—but the peculiar situation seemed to justify us."
"There are not two Bill Appleweights," remarked Colonel Daubenspeck. "I assure you that the real criminal spent last night in jail at Turner Court House, guarded by trustworthy men, and we are able to produce him."
"The quickest way to settle this point, Professor Griswold, is by bringing in your man," remarked Ardmore icily.
"On the other hand"—and Griswold's tone was confident—"as there is no reason for doubt that we have the real Appleweight, and as we are on your territory and in a measure your guests, it is only fair that you produce the man you believe to be Appleweight, that we may have a look at him first."
"Certainly," said Jerry. "Our prisoner does not deny his identity. It gives us pleasure to produce him."
At a nod from Colonel Daubenspeck the orderly at the door ran off to where Cooke and the prisoner waited.
In the interval there was a general exchange of introductions at the bungalow. The adjutant-general of South Carolina was in a merry mood and began chaffing Ardmore upon the deadly character of apples found in his orchard beyond the Raccoon.
"I deeply regret," said Ardmore, rubbing his chin, "that the adjutant-general of North Carolina is suffering from a severe attack ofparalysis agitansand will be unable to meet with us."
"I deplore the fact," replied the adjutant-general of South Carolina, "for one of our scouts picked up a darky in the highway a while ago who had on a uniform dress-coat with the initials 'R. G.' sewed in the pocket."
"If you will return that garment to me, General," said Ardmore, "I will see that it reaches Colonel Gillingwater by special messenger, where, upon his couch of pain, he chafes over his enforced absence from the field of danger."
Steps sounded on the veranda and all rose as Cooke appeared in the door, leading his handcuffed prisoner, who stood erect and glared at the company in gloomy silence.
"This man," said Ardmore, "we declare to be Bill Appleweight,aliasPoteet. I ask you, sir,"—he addressed the prisoner—"to state whether you are not known by one or both of these names?"
The man nodded his head and grumbled a reluctant affirmative.
"Professor Griswold," Ardmore went on, "the gentleman in charge of the prisoner is Roger Cooke, for many years in the secret service of the United States. He now conducts a private agency and is in my employ. Mr. Cooke, I will ask you whether you identify this man as Appleweight?"
"There is no doubt of it whatever. I have known him for years. I once arrested him for moonshining and he served a year in the penitentiary as the result ofthat arrest. You will pardon me, sir," Cooke continued, addressing Griswold directly, "but this is undoubtedly the man you had yourself captured at Mount Nebo Church two nights ago, but who was taken from you, as you may not know, by Miss Geraldine Dangerfield. She was lost in the woods and came upon the captive much to her own surprise."
Griswold lifted his brows in amazement and turned toward Jerry.
"If that is the case, Miss Dangerfield, I salute you! I am sorry to confess, however, that I did not myself see the man who was captured by my friends at the church, owing, it appears, to Miss Dangerfield's prompt and daring action, and the regrettable cowardice of my men. I want to say to you, gentlemen, in all frankness, that I am greatly astonished at what you tell me. Our prisoner is about the same height as this man, has the same slight stoop in the shoulders, and the same short beard; but there the resemblance ends."
Ardmore was trying not to show too plainly his joy at Griswold's discomfiture. None of the South Carolina officers had ever seen Appleweight, as they lived remote from the scene of his exploits. Habersham's men, who had so signally failed in the descent uponMount Nebo Church, had taken to the woods on the appearance of the state soldiery along the border, and could not be found to identify the man seized at the house on the creek. Habersham had discreetly declined to support Griswold's venture at the last moment; to do so would, he pleaded, ruin his chances of political preferment in the future; or worse things might, indeed, happen if he countenanced and supported the armed invasion of North Carolina by South Carolina militia. The zealous young militiamen who had captured the stranger in the house on the creek had pronounced the man Appleweight, and their statement had been accepted and emphasized when the man was taken before Griswold, to whom he had stubbornly refused to make any statement whatever.
"Now that you can not deny that we have the real Appleweight," began Jerry, "who is, you must remember, a prisoner of the state of South Carolina, and must be returned to the Mingo County jail at once, I think we may as well look at your prisoner, Professor Griswold. He may be one of Mr. Appleweight's associates in business; but as we are interested only in the chief culprit, the identity of the man you hold is of very little interest to us."
"If," said Griswold, "he is not Appleweight, the original blown in the bottle—"
"Jug, if you please!" interposed Ardmore very seriously.
"Then we don't care about him and I shall make you a present of him."
"Or," remarked Ardmore, "I might exchange him for a ruffian I captured myself down on the Raccoon. He seemed quite insane, declaring himself to be the governor of South Carolina and I locked him up in a corn-crib for safe keeping."
"Any man," said Jerry, lifting her chin slightly, "who would impersonate the governor of South Carolina would, beyond question, be utterly insane and an object of compassion. Professor Griswold, will you please produce your imaginary Appleweight, as at this hour Mrs. Atchison usually serves tea. Let us therefore make haste."
One of Griswold's retinue ran off to summon the prisoner, who was guarded by half a dozen soldiers near at hand.
The company in the bungalow were all laughing heartily at some sally by the adjutant-general of South Carolina, who insisted upon giving a light note to theproceedings, when hurried footsteps sounded on the veranda and a sergeant appeared in the doorway and saluted.
The adjutant-general, annoyed at being interrupted in the telling of a new story, frowned and bade the sergeant produce his prisoner. At once a man was thrust into the room, a tall man, with a short, dark beard and slightly stooping shoulders. The strong light at his back made it difficult for the people grouped about the table to see his face clearly, but the air somehow seemed charged with electricity, and all bent forward, straining for a sight of the captive. As he stood framed in the doorway his face was slowly disclosed to them, and there appeared to be a humorous twinkle in his eyes. Before any one spoke, he broke out in a hearty laugh. Then a cry rose piercingly in the quiet room—a cry of amazement from the lips of Jerry Dangerfield, who had taken a step forward,
"Oh, papa!" she cried.
"The Governor!" roared Colonel Daubenspeck, leaping across the table.
"It's Governor Dangerfield!" shouted half a dozen men in chorus.
At this moment Mrs. Atchison and Miss BarbaraOsborne stole softly in and ranged themselves at the back of the room.
The governor of North Carolina alone seemed to derive any pleasure from the confusion and astonishment caused by his appearance. He crossed to the table and took his daughter's hand.
"Jerry, what part do you play in these amateur theatricals?"
Jerry rose, thrusting her handkerchief into her sleeve, and her lips trembled slightly, though whether with mirth or some soberer emotion it would be difficult to say. The room at once gave her attention, seeing that she was about to speak.
"Papa, before these people I am not ashamed to confess that during your absence from the seat of government I took it upon myself to fill your office to the best of my ability, finding that many important matters were pressing and that you had gone into exile without leaving your address behind. I made Mr. Ardmore, the gentleman on my left in the pearl-gray suit and lavender tie, first private secretary, and then, when occasion required, acting governor, though in reality he did nothing without my entire approval. I am happy to say that nothing has been neglected and your reputation asa great statesman and friend of the people has not suffered at our hands. We arrested Mr. Appleweight, who is standing there by the fireplace, and landed him in the Mingo County jail as a joke on Governor Osborne, and to appease the demands of the press and the Woman's Civic League of Raleigh. The copies of our correspondence on this and other matters will tell you the story more completely. And as for Governor Osborne, I have taught him a lesson in the etiquette that should obtain between governors that he is not likely to forget. You will find that we have not hesitated to grant pardons, and we have filled, in one instance, the office of justice of the peace, made vacant by resignation. The key to your desk, papa, is behind the clock on the mantel in your private room."
"Ladies and gentlemen," began the governor of North Carolina, laying a hand upon the table, and with the other seizing the lapel of his rough, brown coat—a pose made familiar by all his photographs—"the jails of North Carolina are more uncomfortable than I had believed them to be, and I have taken a slight cold which compels me to be briefer than this interesting occasion demands. You have witnessed here an exhibition of filial devotion that has, I am sure, touched us all. It iswell worth while for me to have suffered arrest and imprisonment to realize the depth of my daughter's love, and the jealousy with which she has safeguarded my private and public honor."
He felt for a handkerchief and touched it gently to his eyes; but Collins declared afterward that Governor Dangerfield was exactly like his daughter and that one never could be sure that his mirth was genuine.
"I was aware only yesterday, when I saw a newspaper for the first time in a week, that political capital was being made of my absence from Raleigh; and that my dear friend, the governor of South Carolina, also, was being called to account for flinching in the face of imperative duty."
"Your friend, Governor?" cried Ardmore, unable to restrain himself.
"Certainly, Mr. Ardmore," continued Governor Dangerfield. "That angry parting of ours at New Orleans was all for effect to get space in the newspapers. We had confided to each other that the cares of state had worn us to an intolerable point and that we must have rest. Brother Appleweight had, I confess, given us both a great deal of annoyance, and to be frank, neither Osborne nor I wished to take the initiative in his case. Sowe resolved to disappear, and go to some quiet place for rest. We outfitted with old clothes and came to the border. Governor Osborne has a farm over there somewhere in Mingo County and we made it our headquarters; but in roaming about we came upon that charming shanty of yours, Mr. Ardmore, down on the Raccoon. The house was deserted, and finding the marks of the official survey running clearly through the timber, we were amused to find that the house was partly in North, partly in South Carolina. The thing touched our fancy. A negro cooked for us—what has become of him I do not know. We cut ourselves off from the mail and telegraph and received no newspapers until a packet came yesterday, and it was only a few minutes after I saw from the head-lines of theVidettewhat a row was going on that I realized that strange things may happen when the king goes a-hunting."
As he paused, Miss Osborne stepped forward, the men making way for her.
"If this be true, Governor Dangerfield, may I ask you, sir, what has become of my father?"
Governor Dangerfield smiled.
"I regret, Miss Barbara, that I can not answer that question; I must refer it to my daughter."
"Miss Osborne," responded Jerry, "while I should be glad, to assist you in recovering your father as a slight return for your having placed mine in the Dilwell County jail and kept him there all night, I regret that I am unable to be of the slightest help to you."
The perspiration was beading Ardmore's brow, but he smiled as though in joy at Jerry's readiness.
"We have taken a number of prisoners," said Ardmore, meeting the governor's glance, "and while I do not think Governor Osborne can possibly be of the number, yet I shall be glad to produce them all. There's a person in the corn-crib a little way across country whom I captured myself. I believe he's now tied to a mulberry tree a little way down the road, as he pretended to be the governor of South Carolina and I feared that he might do himself some harm."
Before he ceased speaking big Paul strode in, an angry and crestfallen man following at his heels.
"Oh, father!"
It was Barbara Osborne's voice; but whatever of anger or joy there may have been in her words and tone was lost in the shout of laughter that broke from Governor Dangerfield. The governor of South Carolina was in no such high humor. He sputtered, swore, stamped his footand struck the table with his clenched hand as he demanded to know the meaning of the outrageous indignity to which he had been subjected.
The more his friend stormed the more Governor Dangerfield roared with laughter, but when he could control himself he laid an arresting arm on Governor Osborne's shoulder, and spoke to Barbara.
"Barbara, may I ask whether you, like my own Jerry, have been protecting your father's fair name during his absence; and does that account for my night spent in the jail at Kildare? If so—"
Governor Dangerfield's laughter got the better of him, but Barbara, with dignity, turned to her father.
"It is quite true, that finding your absence occasioning serious remark, while your attorney-general took advantage of your absence to annoy me in a most cowardly fashion, with the kind help of Professor Griswold, I did all in my power to thwart your enemies, and to show the people of South Carolina that you were not a man to evade the responsibilities of your office. As to the details of these matters I prefer, father, to speak to you in private."
"Professor Griswold?" repeated Governor Osborne haughtily. "I believe I have not the honor of thegentleman's acquaintance;" whereupon, to ease the situation, Ardmore presented his old friend.
"Governor Osborne, allow me to present Professor Henry Maine Griswold, associate professor of admiralty in the University of Virginia, and the author of—"
"Griswold?" The anger slowly left Governor Osborne's face. "Do I understand that you belong to the Virginia tide-water family of that name? Then, sir, without hesitation I offer you my hand."
"Osborne," cried Governor Dangerfield, "we have every reason to be proud of our daughters. They have done their best for us; and they seem to have acted wisely in accepting aid from these gentlemen; and now, what is to be done with Bill Appleweight."
"We have with us that requisition you left on your desk," exclaimed Barbara, turning to her father.
"I'm afraid that won't help," laughed Governor Osborne, "that requisition, Barbara, is purely Pickwickian in character."
"The disposition of Appleweight," said Cooke, "is a matter of delicacy for both of you gentlemen, and you will pardon me for thrusting myself forward, but that this affair may end happily for all, neither North nor South Carolina should bear the burden of prosecuting aman to whom—we may say it as between friends here—the governors of both states are under some trifling obligations."
The governor of North Carolina exchanged a glance and a nod with the governor of South Carolina.
"Therefore," resumed Cooke, "we must hit upon a plan of action that will eliminate both states from the controversy. I will, with your permission, turn Appleweight over to the United States revenue officers who are even now in this neighborhood looking for him."
"No!" cried Jerry. "We shall do nothing of the kind! I met Mr. Appleweight under peculiar circumstances, but I must say that I formed a high opinion of his chivalry and I beg that we allow him to take a little trip somewhere until the Woman's Civic League of Raleigh and the carping Massachusetts press have found other business, and he can return in peace to his home."
"That," said Governor Osborne, "meets my approval."
"And I," Ardmore added, "will give him my private caboose in which to cruise the larger Canadian cities."
Two more prisoners were now brought in.
"Governor Dangerfield," continued Ardmore, "here is your state treasurer, who had sought to injure you by defaulting the state bonds due to-day, which is the firstof June. And that frowsy person with Mr. Foster is Secretary Billings, of the Bronx Loan and Trust Company, who has treated me at times with the greatest injustice and condescension. Whether Treasurer Foster has the money with which to meet those bonds I do not know; but I do know that I have to-day paid them in full through the Buckhaw National Bank of Raleigh."
Colonel Daubenspeck leaped to his feet and swung his cap. He proposed three cheers for Jerry Dangerfield; and three more for Barbara Osborne; and then the two governors were cheered three times three; and when the bungalow had ceased to ring, it was seen that Ardmore and Griswold were in each other's arms.
"Surely, by this time," said Mrs. Atchison, "you have adjusted enough of these weighty matters for one day, and I beg that you will all dine with us at Ardsley to-night at eight o'clock, where my brother and I will endeavor to mark in appropriate fashion the signing of peace between your neighboring kingdoms."
"For Governor Osborne and myself I accept, madam," replied Governor Dangerfield, "providing the flowing frock-coats, which are the vesture and symbol of our respective offices, are still in the log house on the Raccoon where I became a prisoner."
Mrs. Atchison and Ardmore had given their last touches to the preparations for the dinner. Every window of the great house shone and a myriad of lanterns illuminated the lawns and terraces. The flags of North and South Carolina were everywhere entwined; nor were the stars and stripes neglected. They surveyed the long table in the dining-room, where gold and silver and crystal were bright upon the snowy napery.
"The matter of precedence is serious, Tommy," urged Mrs. Atchison. "I can not for the life of me remember what two monarchs do about entering a room at the same time."
"Nor do I, Nellie," said Ardmore; "unless they sprint for the door and the one who gets through first takes the head of the table. Still, that would be undignified, particularly if the kings were old and fat, and if they bumped going through the door and took a header it would jar the divine right."
"Here in democratic America," said Griswold, joining them, "there can be no such preposterous idea of precedence."
"I should think better of that notion, Professor Griswold," laughed Mrs. Atchison, "if I had never seen the goats carefully shepherded to keep them away from the lambs at functions in Washington. Democracy may be a political triumph, but it is certainly deficient socially. Personally I have always wished to bring myself in touch with the poor. Ardy is quite right that our own kind are distinctly uninteresting."
"You ought to remember, Nellie, that your idea of going slumming in a purple coupé and dressed up in your best rags is not well calculated to inspire confidence and affection among the submerged. But how to handle two governors has me fussed. You are the hostess, and it's for you to decide which excellency shall take you in. I see no way out but to match for it."
"That will be unnecessary," said Mrs. Atchison, "for the doors and the hall are broad enough for a dozen governors to march in abreast."
"That would never do, Nellie! You don't understand these things. You can't hitch up a brace of American governors in a team and drive them like a pair of horses.At least, speaking for the Old North State, I will say that we can never consent to any such compromise."
"And I, speaking for the great Palmetto Commonwealth, not less emphatically reject the idea!" declared Griswold.
"Then," said Mrs. Atchison, "there is only one possible solution. When the rest of us have entered the dining-room and taken our places, a bugle will sound; the governor of North Carolina shall enter from the north door; the governor of South Carolina from the south door, and advance to seats facing each other midway of the table. Professor Griswold, you are an old friend of the family, and you shall yourself take me in to dinner."
The members of Mrs. Atchison's house party, well distributed among the official guests, were still somewhat at a loss to know what had happened, but it seemed to be in the air that Tommy Ardmore had at last done something, though just what was not wholly clear. It was sufficiently obvious, however, that the little girl with blue eyes who had the drollest possible way of talking, and whom one never seemed able to take off guard, had seized strong hold upon the master of Ardsley; and she, on her part, treated him with the mostprovoking condescension. It was agreed by all that Miss Osborne was distinguished and lovely and that Professor Griswold did not seem out of place at her side.
The talk grew general after the first restraint was over, and Mrs. Atchison dropped just the right word here and there to keep the ball rolling. Governor Osborne had generously forgotten and forgiven his painful incarceration in the corn-crib, and he and Governor Dangerfield vied with each other in avowing their determination to live up to the high standards that had been set for them by their daughters.
Both governors had at almost the same moment turned down their glasses. It even seemed that they had been drilled in the part, so dexterous were they in reversing them, so nimbly did they put from them the hope of wine. The members of the house-party noted this act of the two governors with well-bred surprise; and Ardmore was grieved, feeling that in some measure the illustrious guests were criticizing his hospitality. The butler at this moment spoke to him, and much relieved he smiled and nodded. A moment later two jugs, two little brown jugs, were carried in, and one was placed quietly in front of each governor at precisely the same moment. Expectation was instantly a-tiptoe.
"Gentlemen," said Ardmore, addressing the governors, "these jugs have just been left at the house by our old friend, Mr. Bill Appleweight,aliasPoteet, with his compliments, for the governors of the two greatest states in the Union. I note that there's a bit of pink calico around the stopper of Governor Dangerfield's jug, while Governor Osborne's is garnished with blue and white gingham."
Governor Osborne rose.
"In politics," he began, resting his hand gently on the jug, "it would be a fine thing if we could all live up to our noblest ideals, but unfortunately we must be all things to all men. What I have here is not merely the testimonial of a valued constituent, but something much subtler than that, ladies and gentlemen—a delicate proof that those of us who would command the good-will and suffrages of the people must keep a careful eye on the weather-vane. This jug, which you probably all believe contains the rude product of some hidden still, is as equivocal as a political platform. I will illustrate my meaning."
All eyes were bent upon the governor of South Carolina as he picked up the jug, twisted the cob stopper for a moment, and then poured into a tumbler which thebutler placed for him, a clear white fluid; then, turning the stopper slightly, he poured into another glass a thick milk-like liquid.
"When among my constituents I almost invariably call for a gourd for drinking purposes in preference to a tumbler; but in this company I shall abandon a custom of the plain people and yield to the habits of the sons of Mammon. I am here, I take it, once more in my official capacity as governor of South Carolina, and as I am not one to offend the best sentiments of my people, I pledge you, my friends, not in the untaxed corn whisky of Appleweight's private still, but in the excellent and foamy buttermilk of Mrs. Appleweight's homely churn."
As he concluded, Governor Dangerfield rose and performed exactly the same solemn rite with the jug before him, pouring whisky into one glass, buttermilk into the other, and leaning across the table he touched his tumbler of buttermilk to that extended by Governor Osborne. When the applause that greeted this exchange of courtesies had subsided, Governor Dangerfield was still standing, and in a quiet conversational tone, and with a manner engagingly frank, he said:
"Before it seemed expedient to follow the reform bandwagon, I held certain principles touching thedrinking habit. But the American bar has destroyed drinking as a fine art, and it has now become a vulgar habit. In the good old times no gentleman ever jumped at his liquor. He took it with a casual air, even with a sanctifying reluctance. The idea of rushing into a public place and gulping your liquor is repugnant to the most primary of the instincts that govern gentlemen. To precipitate a gill of applejack into that most delicate organism, the human stomach, without the slightest warning, is an insult to the human body,—ay, more, it is an outrage upon man's very soul. The aim of liquor, ladies and gentlemen, is to stay and lift the spirit, not to degrade it. Drinking at proper intervals ceased to be respectable at a fixed date in human progress—to be exact, at the moment when it was no longer a mere incident of personal or social recreation but had become a sociological and political issue, staggering drunkenly under a weary burden of most painful statistics."
"You are eminently right, Governor Dangerfield," said the governor of South Carolina, helping himself to the salted almonds; "but you have used a phrase which piques my curiosity. Will you kindly enlighten us as to how you interpret proper intervals?"
"With greatest pleasure," responded GovernorDangerfield. "I remember, as though it were yesterday, my venerable grandfather saying that no gentleman should ever approach the sideboard oftener than once before breakfast, and he was himself a very early riser. I discount this, however, because he always slept with a jug of Cuban rum—the annual offering of a West Indian friend—easily within his reach at the head of his bed. It was his practice for years to sip a little rum and water while he shaved. He was a gentleman if ever I knew one and as I look upon him as a standard authority in all matters of deportment and morals, I may safely cite him further in answer to your question.
"During the long open season in our country my grandfather constantly rode over the plantation in immaculate white duck followed by a darky on a mule carrying a basket. On our ancestral estate there were many springs giving the purest and coldest of water, and these were providentially scattered at the most convenient intervals for my grandfather's comfort. And as a slight return to nature for what she had done for him in this particular, my grandfather, in his early youth, had planted mint around all these springs. I need hardly point out the advantages of this happiest of combinations—a spring of clear, icy water; the pungentbouquet of lush mint; the ample basket home by a faithful negro, and my grandfather, in his white duck suit and a Panama hat a yard wide, seated by the mossy spring, selecting with the most delicate care the worthiest of the fragrant leaves.
"Now"—and Governor Dangerfield smiled—"I can see that you are all busy guessing at the number of stops made by my grandfather in the course of a day, and I hasten to satisfy your curiosity. My grandfather always started out at six o'clock in the morning, and the springs were so arranged that he had to make six stops before noon, and four in the afternoon; but at five o'clock, when he reached home all fagged out by a hard day's work and sorely needing refreshment, a pitcher of cherry bounce was waiting for him on the west gallery of the house. After that he took nothing but a night-cap on retiring for the night. To my friend, the governor of South Carolina, I need offer no apologies for my grandfather, once a senator in Congress, and a man distinguished for his sobriety and probity. He was an upright man and a gentleman, and died at ninety-two, full of years and honors, and complaining, almost with his last breath, of a distressing dusty feeling in the throat."
When, as time passed, it seemed that every one hadtold a story or made a speech, it was Ardmore's inspiration that Griswold should sing a song. The associate professor of admiralty in the University of Virginia had already pledged the loyalty of his state to her neighbors and twin sisters, the Carolinas, and Barbara, who wore a great bunch of her own white roses, had listened to him with a new respect and interest, for he spoke well, with the special grace of speech that men of his state have, and with little turns of humor that kept the table bubbling merrily.
"I shall comply with your request, my friends, if you can bear with the poor voice of one long out of tune, and if our host still has in the house a certain ancient guitar I remember from old times. But I must impose one condition, that I shall not again in this place be called by my academic title. I have known wars and the shock of battle along the Raccoon"—here his hand went to his lips in the gesture that had so often distressed Ardmore—"and I have known briefly the joy of a military title. Miss Osborne conferred on me in an emergency the noble title of major, and by it I demand hereafter to be known."
The governor of South Carolina was promptly upon his feet.
"Henry Maine Griswold," he said in his most official manner, "I hereby appoint you a major on my staff with all the rights, privileges and embarrassments thereunto belonging, and you shall to-morrow attend me personally in my inspection of our troops in the field."
As the guitar was placed in Griswold's hands, Ardmore caused all the lights to be turned out save those on the table. In the soft candle-glow Ardmore bent his face upon Jerry, who had been merrily chaffing him at intervals, but who feigned at other times an utter ignorance of his presence on earth. As Griswold's voice rose in the mellow dusk it seemed to Ardmore that the song spoke things he could not, like his friend, put into utterance, and something fine and sweet and hallowed—that sweet sabbath of the soul that comes with first love—possessed him, and he ceased looking at Jerry, but bent his head and was lost in dreams. For the song and the voice were both beyond what the company had expected. It was an old air that Griswold sang, and it gave charm to his words, which were those of a man who loves deeply and who dares speak them to the woman he loves. They rose and fell in happy cadences, and every word rang clear. In the longer lines of the song there was a quickening of time that carried the sense of passion, andGriswold lifted his head when he uttered them and let them cry out of him.
One of Barbara's white roses had fallen into her lap and she played with it idly; but after the first verse it slipped from her fingers and she folded her arms on the table and bent her gaze on the quiet flame of the candle before her. And this was the song that Griswold sang:
Fair winds and golden sunsDown the year's dim aisles of gray depart;But you are the dear white rose of the worldThat I hide in my heart.Last leaves, and the first wild snow,And the earth through an iron void is whirled;But safe from the tempest abide in my heart,O dear white rose of the world!Blithe air and flashing wing,And awakened sap that thrills and flows;But hid from the riot, and haste of the springSleeps one white rose.O scattered leaves of days!O low-voiced glories that fade and depart!But changeless and dear through the changing yearBlooms one white rose in my heart.
Fair winds and golden sunsDown the year's dim aisles of gray depart;But you are the dear white rose of the worldThat I hide in my heart.Last leaves, and the first wild snow,And the earth through an iron void is whirled;But safe from the tempest abide in my heart,O dear white rose of the world!Blithe air and flashing wing,And awakened sap that thrills and flows;But hid from the riot, and haste of the springSleeps one white rose.O scattered leaves of days!O low-voiced glories that fade and depart!But changeless and dear through the changing yearBlooms one white rose in my heart.
Fair winds and golden sunsDown the year's dim aisles of gray depart;But you are the dear white rose of the worldThat I hide in my heart.
Fair winds and golden suns
Down the year's dim aisles of gray depart;
But you are the dear white rose of the world
That I hide in my heart.
Last leaves, and the first wild snow,And the earth through an iron void is whirled;But safe from the tempest abide in my heart,O dear white rose of the world!
Last leaves, and the first wild snow,
And the earth through an iron void is whirled;
But safe from the tempest abide in my heart,
O dear white rose of the world!
Blithe air and flashing wing,And awakened sap that thrills and flows;But hid from the riot, and haste of the springSleeps one white rose.
Blithe air and flashing wing,
And awakened sap that thrills and flows;
But hid from the riot, and haste of the spring
Sleeps one white rose.
O scattered leaves of days!O low-voiced glories that fade and depart!But changeless and dear through the changing yearBlooms one white rose in my heart.
O scattered leaves of days!
O low-voiced glories that fade and depart!
But changeless and dear through the changing year
Blooms one white rose in my heart.
The last words hung tremulously, tenderly, on the air, and left a spell upon the company that no one seemed anxious to break; then there was long applause and criesof encore; but Ardmore, who knew that his friend had been greatly moved, drew attention away from him to Collins, who had just entered the room.
The correspondent had been called away shortly before from the table, and he wore the serious air of one heavy with news.
"I beg to report that I have just completed a treaty with the journalists assembled in the cellar."
"I hope, Mr. Collins, that the journalists' convention below stairs realized that the lobster we sent them for supper was not canned, and that the mushrooms were creamed for their refreshment by Mrs. Atchison's special command. It is not for us to trifle with the dignity of the press," said Jerry.
"The reputations of two governors and of two states are in their hands," said the governor of South Carolina, with feeling. "It would be a distressing end of my public services if the truth of all these matters should be known. The fact that Governor Dangerfield and I had merely withdrawn from public life for a little quiet poker in the country would sound like the grossest immorality to my exacting constituency."
"Both yourself and Governor Dangerfield will be relieved to know that they have accepted my terms and allis well," responded Collins. "They will tell the waiting world that you have both been the guests of Mr. Ardmore, and that the troops assembled on the Raccoon are merely at their usual summer maneuvers. As for Appleweight, it has seemed expedient that he should be dead, and the man who has been called by that name of late is only an impostor seeking a little cheap notoriety. The boys are very sick of the cellar, and they would do even more than this to get away."
"Mr. Collins," said Governor Dangerfield, rising, "your great merits shall not go unrewarded. I have carelessly neglected to appoint a delegate from North Carolina to the annual conference of the Supreme Lodge of the Society of American Liars shortly to meet at Lake Placid, New York. As a slight testimonial of my confidence and admiration, I hereby appoint you to represent the Old North State at that meeting, and your expenses shall be paid from the public purse."
"The boys wish to see your excellencies before they leave," said Collins when he had acknowledged the governor's compliment; and as he spoke the sound of great cheering broke through the windows, and Mrs. Atchison promptly rose and led the way to the broad terraces which were now gay with colored lanterns.
"Speech! Speech!" cried the corps of correspondents. Then Ardmore seized Governor Osborne's hand and led him forward to the balustrade; but before the governor of South Carolina could speak the group of newspaper men began chanting, in the manner of a college antiphonal: