Read Online Free Book

Crittenden

Page 8

The Legion came next morning and pitched camp in a woodland of oak and

sugar trees, where was to be voiced a patriotic welcome by a great

editor, a great orator, and young Crittenden.

Before noon, company streets were laid out and lined with tents and,

when the first buggies and rockaways began to roll in from the country,

every boy-soldier was brushed and burnished to defy the stare of

inspection and to quite dazzle the eye of masculine envy or feminine

admiration.

In the centre of the woodland was a big auditorium, where the speaking

was to take place. After the orators were done, there was to be a

regimental review in the bluegrass pasture in front of historic Ashland.

It was at the Colonel's tent, where Crittenden went to pay his respects,

that he found Judith Page, and he stopped for a moment under an oak,

taking in the gay party of women and officers who sat and stood about

the entrance. In the centre of the group stood a lieutenant in the blue

of a regular and with the crossed sabres of the cavalryman on his

neck-band and the number of his regiment. The girl was talking to the

gallant old Colonel with her back to Crittenden, but he would have known

her had he seen but an arm, a shoulder, the poise of her head, a single

gesture--although he had not seen her for years. The figure was the

same--a little fuller, perhaps, but graceful, round, and slender, as was

the throat. The hair was a trifle darker, he thought, but brown still,

and as rich with gold as autumn sunlight. The profile was in outline

now--it was more cleanly cut than ever. The face was a little older, but

still remarkably girlish in spite of its maturer strength; and as she

turned to answer his look, he kept on unconsciously reaffirming to his

memory the broad brow and deep clear eyes, even while his hand was

reaching for the brim of his hat.

She showed only gracious surprise at

seeing him and, to his wonder, he was as calm and cool as though he were

welcoming back home any good friend who had been away a long time. He

could now see that the lieutenant belonged to the Tenth United States

Cavalry; he knew that the Tenth was a colored regiment; he understood a

certain stiffness that he felt rather than saw in the courtesy that was

so carefully shown him by the Southern volunteers who were about him;

and he turned away to avoid meeting him. For the same reason, he

fancied, Judith turned, too. The mere idea of negro soldiers was not

only repugnant to him, but he did not believe in negro regiments. These

would be the men who could and would organize and drill the blacks in

the South; who, in other words, would make possible, hasten, and prolong

the race war that sometimes struck him as inevitable. As he turned, he

saw a tall, fine-looking negro, fifty yards away, in the uniform of a

sergeant of cavalry and surrounded by a crowd of gaping darkies whom he

was haranguing earnestly. Lieutenant and sergeant were evidently on an

enlisting tour.

PrevPage ListNext