Читать книгу In the Van; or, The Builders - John Price-Brown - Страница 20

Table of Contents

The European war was drawing to a close, or rather to an intense lull before the final conflict. Napoleon's arrogance in declining to yield a jot of German territory to Austria's demand, culminated eventually in his crushing defeat at Leipzic in the "Battle of the Nations." The British forces, too, were successful wherever they turned their arms, and at Vittoria, Wellington routed the legions of Joseph Bonaparte. Before the close of the year disasters were even more complete, and the remains of Napoleon's armies were driven out of Germany as well as Spain.

British veterans, inured to the discipline and fatigues of campaign life, were fast returning to their own shores; and it was from these that Sir George Head's companies were chosen. Already they had spent months in the rest of barrack life, and tired of inactivity, they welcomed the call to duty again.

There was something alluring to the soldier in the thought of service in America, whether engaged in active warfare or not. The Western continent was an El Dorado toward which all eyes were turned. It offered something different from the camp life of Europe, where prospective and actual battles were looked upon as the be-all and end-all of the soldier's career. Of emigration to Europe there was none, but of emigration to America, save for the brief interruption caused by the war with the States, there was a never-ending stream.

Hence, when the seared soldiers of Wellington's brigades came home, and were told to prepare to cross the Atlantic, either to fight the Americans or to guard the British frontier from invasion, hats went up, cheers echoed through the air and every man became an enthusiast.

For many days the North King, one of the largest war vessels of the period, had been undergoing repairs. Her keel was repainted, her hold thoroughly cleansed, and additional iron girders put in to strengthen her bulwarks. Her gun-carriages were rearranged, and to meet any possible contingency new guns were added. Then vast and unusual stores were loaded upon her, not for the use of the troops only, but for the building and maintenance of the new fort as well.

In direct preparation for the prospective voyage, perhaps no man was so actively engaged as Captain Payne of the Royal Engineers. To him was assigned the erection of the new fort at Penetang, together with whatever barracks might be required for the accommodation of the men. What added much to his difficulties was the selection and packing of materials to be carried in midwinter over a thousand miles of territory, three-fourths of the journey being through the woods.

But Captain Payne was equal to the occasion; and days before the time of sailing, the holds of the ship were filled with stores.

In completing and carrying out the arrangements, Harold's time was largely occupied, so that it was late each evening before he could have leave of absence to see his wife. These brief interviews were very precious to them; but to their amazement days passed without a word from the Colonel. Apparently he had not relented. Still Helen hoped on, while she devoted her time to preparation. At last a message came:

"Colonel Head desires an interview with Lieutenant Manning ten minutes before parade."

Such were the contents of a note handed to Harold in the early morning three days before sailing.

With a convulsive leap the young man's heart seemed to bound into his throat. What could it mean? Would his wife, after all, be allowed to go? Then, perhaps for the first time, something like an adequate conception of the magnitude and danger of the journey to her, forced itself upon him. Was it right to yield to their mutual desire, to take her with the troops in midwinter, and while war was still raging? Could it be his duty to transfer his bride from the comforts of home and the social world to the conditions which the trip must inevitably bring? He knew that her desire was just as keen as ever. It had also been his own passionate wish during the weeks that had elapsed since their marriage; but as he neared the Colonel's quarters, he found himself actually hoping that the final edict would forbid his wife to undertake the journey.

With many conflicting thoughts Harold joined his fellow officers at mess that morning. All were there. Even Sir George had walked over from his private residence to breakfast with them. From his manner, however, he could surmise nothing. Neither by word nor look did the Colonel indicate what was passing through his mind. At the appointed time Harold presented himself.

"I intended my first reply to your request to be the decisive one," said Sir George, without prelude. "But my mind may have changed somewhat. Do I understand that your wife still desires to go with us?"

"Yes, sir," was Harold's quick response.

"Has she thought the matter out in all its bearings? And does she appreciate how much of hardship and privation the trip will involve, to say nothing of the vicissitudes she will be obliged to endure after we get to our destination?"

"She has considered all these, Sir George, and her mind has remained unchanged," said Harold.

"It is a big undertaking," muttered the Colonel, and for a minute he walked up and down the room with his hands behind his back.

"I know it, sir; but fortunately she has means of her own, as I said, and can amply defray whatever extra expenditure may be incurred on her account."

"That is satisfactory," said the Colonel, "and after all, the objections may not be insuperable. I have, I must confess, a strong admiration for your wife; and if we succeed in establishing a fort at Penetang, she will, if she goes, be its brightest ornament."

"Thank you very much," exclaimed Harold, his face flushing with undisguised pleasure. "And am I to take this as equivalent to your consent?"

"Well, yes; if she is as firmly convinced as ever that it is the wiser and better thing for her to do."

For some moments Harold stood still with his hands pressed upon the desk in front of him. The old questions were coming back to him. Was it? Was it not?

"What is it, lad?" said the Colonel in a friendly tone, although he observed him keenly.

"I was just thinking," stammered Harold, "what a terrible thing it would be when too late, if it should prove to be a mistake."

"That is possible," returned the Colonel, again walking up and down the floor. "But, remember, if faint heart never won fair lady, neither did timid soldier ever win a battle. If you go into the thing at all you go in to win. Every obstacle must be overthrown. We must guard and keep that wife of yours—take her right through to the end—and crown her queen of the little fortress of Penetang which, please God, we shall build.

"It is very good of you, Colonel," was all Harold could say.

"Well, we'll leave it all to the lady herself. Explain everything to her; but tell her from me that our officers are fine fellows, and from the Colonel to the last of them, will do what they can to make the journey comfortable, if she decides to undertake it."

"I thank you, Colonel, from the bottom of my heart," said Harold, warmly grasping his chief by the hand.

"That is all right," was the smiling response. "One more point, as your wife may need every remaining moment for preparation, you are relieved from duty from now out. So give her the news and aid her what you can."

Harold saluted, and in another minute was outside the barracks, speeding along the street to tell it all to Helen.