Betty at Fort Blizzard Part 18

Broussard, being a sly dog, did not sing any of the modern songs that he was wont to troll out at the club, or on the march, but chose for his second number a song that subalterns sang to pianos, to banjos and guitars, and even without accompaniment, the favorite song of the subaltern, "A Warrior Bold." Broussard's clear baritone, sweet and ringing, echoed among the icy cliffs in the wintry dusk. At the end, Colonel Fortescue nodded his head in approval.

"I used to sing that song," he said, "when I was a youngster, but I never had a fine voice like yours. Tune up again."

Broussard tuned up again, and this time it was a sweet old sentimental ballad. He went conscientiously through his repertory of old-fas.h.i.+oned ballads, not smiling in the least, Colonel Fortescue listening gravely to these songs of love. The purple twilight was coming on fast and the ruddy glare of the fire threw a beautiful crimson light upon the snow-draped cliffs and ice-clad trees. During the intervals between the songs, the two men listened for the sound of coming help. With a good fire, plenty of cigars, and Broussard's cheerful singing, their plight was not so bad. But a disturbing thought came to both of them.

"The horse running back riderless, will alarm my wife and daughter," said Colonel Fortescue after a while.

Broussard made no reply; he hoped that Anita would be a little frightened about him.

CHAPTER IX

THE REVEILLE

Half an hour after Colonel Fortescue and Broussard rode away, Anita, walking into her mother's room, said to Mrs. Fortescue:

"Mother, let us ride this afternoon. It is so gloriously clear and cold."

Mrs. Fortescue turned from the desk where she was writing and hesitated.

"I saw your father go off on Gamechick. You can ride Pretty Maid, but your father objects so much to my riding Birdseye."

"But there are plenty of mounts besides Birdseye," said Anita.

Mrs. Fortescue glanced out of the window at the winter landscape and s.h.i.+vered a little.

"It is very cold," she said, "and rather late; the sun will be gone in a little while."

Anita came behind her mother and put her hands under Mrs. Fortescue's pretty chin.

"Dear mother," she said, "I want so much to ride this afternoon; I feel that I must. Won't you go out, if it is only for half an hour?"

Anita's eloquent eyes and pleading voice were not lost upon Mrs.

Fortescue, who found it difficult always to resist pleadings.

"Well then," she said, "call up the stables and tell them to bring the horses around as soon as possible, and some one to go with us, perhaps McGillicuddy."

Ten minutes later, Mrs. Fortescue and Anita, in their trim black habits and smart little hats fastened on with filmy veils, came out on the stone steps. The trooper was leading the horses up and down, and Sergeant McGillicuddy, as escort, put both ladies into their saddles and then himself mounted. Just as Mrs. Fortescue settled herself in saddle and gave her horse a light touch with her riding-crop, a strange sound was borne upon the sharp wind, the unmistakable sound of a runaway horse. Sergeant McGillicuddy and Anita heard the sound at the same moment, and stood motionless to listen. It grew rapidly near and nearer and stray pa.s.sers-by turned toward the main entrance, from which direction came the wild clatter of iron-shod hoofs in maddened flight.

Suddenly through the open main entrance dashed Gamechick without a rider.

A riderless horse fleeing in terror, is one of the most tragic sights on earth. The horse came pounding at breakneck speed, blinded in his fright, as runaway horses are, but instinctively taking the straight path across the plaza. It was as if the frantic hoof-beats awakened the whole post. Soldiers ran out and officers stepped from their comfortable quarters, while the officers' club emptied itself into the street. The horse was recognized in a moment as Colonel Fortescue's mount, and he made straight for the commandant's house. It was not necessary for the trooper to seize the reins hanging loose on Gamechick's neck. He came to a sudden halt, his sides heaving as if they would burst, and he was dripping wet as if he had been in a river.

He stood, quivering, his sensitive ears c.o.c.king and unc.o.c.king wildly.

Mrs. Fortescue's face grew pale, but she said to McGillicuddy calmly:

"Some accident has happened to Colonel Fortescue. Send word at once to Major Harlow and to my son."

Major Harlow, next in command, was on the spot almost as Mrs. Fortescue spoke.

"It is all right, Mrs. Fortescue," said Major Harlow, cheerfully. "The Colonel probably dismounted and the horse got away. We will find him in a little while."

"Yes," replied Mrs. Fortescue, "and Anita and I will ride with you."

Anita looked with triumphant eyes at her mother.

"I felt that we must be on horseback," she said, "I didn't understand why a few minutes ago, but now I know why."

A messenger was sent for Beverley Fortescue, but he was not to be found. Some one in the group of officers remembered having seen him riding off with Sally Harlow. Major Harlow did not attempt to keep up with his daughter's cavaliers.

"We'll find the Colonel all right," said Major Harlow, confidently, "the horse will show us the way."

Major Harlow rode in front with Sergeant McGillicuddy, who led Gamechick, his head hanging down, looking the picture of shame but carefully retracing his steps. Behind them rode Mrs. Fortescue and Anita, and then came a small escort. Gamechick, walking wearily in advance over the frozen snow, suddenly lifted his head and gave a loud whinnying of joy, and at the same moment his tired legs seemed to gain new strength, and he started off in a brisk trot.

"He has caught the trail, Mrs. Fortescue," called back Major Harlow, turning his head and meeting Mrs. Fortescue's glance; her face was pale and so was Anita's, but the eyes of both were undaunted.

Gamechick trotted ahead, sometimes faltering and going around in a circle, the escort waiting patiently until he once more found his own tracks. They were still a mile away from the entrance of the mountain pa.s.s when Anita, looking up into the clear dark blue sky where the palpitating stars were coming out, saw the blue smoke curling upward from the pa.s.s.

"Daddy and Mr. Broussard have made a fire," she cried.

"Is Mr. Broussard with the Colonel?" asked Major Harlow, in surprise.

Until then, no one had spoken Broussard's name, or knew he was with Colonel Fortescue.

"I think so," replied Anita, "I was watching my father as he rode toward the main entrance and I saw Mr. Broussard join him and they rode off together."

When they reached the rugged mountain road, the horses, with rough-shod feet, scrambled up like cats. Now the searching party could not only see the blue smoke floating above their heads, but they perceived a delicate odor of burning fir branches. When they reached a spot in the pa.s.s where a bridle path diverged Gamechick halted, putting his nose to the ground as he stepped about and then throwing back his head in disappointment.

In the midst of the stillness came the sound of a voice; Broussard was trolling out a ballad in Spanish which he had learned in the far-off jungles of the Philippines. Mrs. Fortescue glanced at Anita. A brilliant smile and a warm blush illuminated the girl's face. The mother smiled; she knew the old, old story that Anita's violet eyes were telling.

Major Harlow raised a ringing cheer in which Sergeant McGillicuddy and the officers and troopers joined. An answering cheer came back. It was unnecessary then for Gamechick to show the way by galloping ahead.

Within five minutes the pa.s.s was full of cavalrymen. Mrs. Fortescue, down on her knees in the snow, was examining Colonel Fortescue's broken ankle. Anita, for once losing the quiet reserve that was hers by nature, was sitting by the Colonel, her arm around his neck, her cheek against his, and the tears were dropping on her cheeks.

"Oh, daddy," she was whispering, "I knew that something had happened to you and that I must come to you, and that was why I begged and prayed my mother to come with me, and now we have found you, we have found you!"

Colonel Fortescue drew the girl close to his strong beating heart for a brief moment.

"It is a very neat splint," said Mrs. Fortescue, rising to her feet and bestowing one of her brilliant smiles on Broussard. "Mr. Broussard is a capital surgeon."

"And a capital soldier," said the Colonel, quite clearly.

A smile went around, of which Broussard's was the brightest and the broadest. Everybody present knew that the stern Colonel was melting a little toward Broussard.

Then Colonel Fortescue insisted upon mounting Gamechick.

"You are so obstinate," murmured Mrs. Fortescue, in his ear. "You are as bent on riding that horse as you say I am on riding Birdseye."