CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.
ALAS, FOR ARTHUR!
A few days later Peggy was driven home to the vicarage, and stood thedrive so well that she was able to walk downstairs at tea-time, and sitat the table with only a cushion at her back, to mark her out as aninvalid just recovering from a serious illness. There was a specialreason why she wished to look well this afternoon, for Arthur wasexpected by the six o'clock train; and the candidate who had come outfirst in his examination lists must not have his reception chilled byanxiety or disappointment.
Peggy was attired in her pink dress, and sat roasting before the fire,so as to get some colour into her cheeks. If her face were only thesize of the palm of a hand, she was determined that it should at leastbe rosy; and if she looked very bright, and smiled all the time, perhapsArthur would not notice how thin she had become.
When half-past six struck, everyone crowded into the schoolroom, andpresently a cab drove up to the door, and a modest rap sounded on theknocker.
"That's not Arthur!" cried Mrs Asplin confidently. "He knocks straighton without stopping, peals the bell at the same time, and shoutsChristmas carols through the letter-box! He has sent on his luggage, Iexpect, and is going to pounce in upon us later on."
"Ah, no, that's not Arthur!" assented Peggy; but Mr Asplin turned hishead quickly towards the door, as if his ear had caught a familiar note,hesitated for a moment, and then walked quickly into the hall.
"My dear boy!" the listeners heard him cry; and then another voice spokein reply--Arthur's voice--saying, "How do you do, sir?" in such flat,subdued tones as filled them with amazement.
Mrs Asplin and Peggy turned towards each other with distended eyes. IfArthur had suddenly slid down the chimney and crawled out on the hearthbefore them, turned a somersault in at the window, or crawled frombeneath the table, it would have caused no astonishment whatever; butthat he should ring at the bell, walk quietly into the hall, and wait tohang up his hat like any other ordinary mortal,--this was indeed anunprecedented and extraordinary proceeding! The same explanation dartedinto both minds. His sister's illness! He was afraid of startling aninvalid, and was curbing his overflowing spirits in consideration forher weakness.
Peggy rose from her chair, and stood waiting, with sparkling eyes andburning cheeks. He should see in one glance that she was better--almostwell--that there was no need of anxiety on her behalf. And then thetall, handsome figure appeared in the doorway, and Arthur's voicecried--
"Peggikens! Up and dressed! This is better than I hoped. How are you,dear little Peg?"
There was something wrong with the voice, something lacking in thesmile; but his sister was too excited to notice it. She stretched outher arms towards him, and raised her weak, quavering little voice in asong of triumph--
"See-ee the conquering he-he-he-he-hero com-ums! Sow-ow-ow-ow-ownd thetrumpet, play--a--a--a--"
"Don't, Peg!" cried Arthur sharply. "Don't, dear!" He was standing byher side by this time, and suddenly he wrapped his arms round her andlaid his curly head on hers. "I'm plucked, Peg!" he cried, and hisvoice was full of tears. "Oh, Peg, I'm plucked! It's all over; I cannever be a soldier. I'm plucked--plucked--plucked!"
"Arthur dear! Arthur darling!" cried Peggy loudly. She clasped herarms round his neck, and glared over his shoulder, like a tigress whoseyoung has been threatened with danger. "You plucked! My brotherplucked! Ho! ho! ho!" She gave a shrill peal of laughter. "It'simpossible! You were first of all, the very first. You always arefirst. Who was wicked enough, and cruel enough, and false enough, tosay that Arthur Saville was plucked in an examination?"
"Arthur, my boy, what is it? What does it mean? You told us you werefirst. How can you possibly be plucked?"
"My--my eyes!" said Arthur faintly. He raised his head from Peggy'sshoulder and looked round with a haggard smile. "The medical exam.They would not pass me. I was rather blind when I was here before, butI thought it was with reading too much. I never suspected there wasanything really wrong--never for a moment!"
"Your eyes!" The vicar pressed his hand to his forehead, as if unableto grasp this sudden shattering of his hopes. "But--but I don'tunderstand! Your eyes never gave you any trouble when you were here.You were not short-sighted. One knew, of course, that good sight wasnecessary; but there seemed no weakness in that direction. I can'timagine any cause that can have brought it on."
"I can!" said Arthur drearily. "I got a bad knock at lacrosse two yearsago. I didn't tell you about it, for it wasn't worth while; but my eyeswere bad for some time after that. I thought they were all right again;but I had to read a lot of things across a room, and made a poor show ofit. Then the doctor took me to a window and pointed to an omnibus thatwas passing.
"`What's the name on that 'bus?' he said. `What is the colour of thatwoman's hat? How many horses are there?'
"I guessed. I couldn't see. I made a shot at it, and it was a wrongshot. He was a kind old chap. I think he was sorry for me. I--I cameout into the street, and walked about. It was very cold. I tried towrite to you, but I couldn't do it--I couldn't put it down in black andwhite. No V.C. now, little Peg! That's all over. You will have acivilian for your brother, after all!"
He bent down to kiss the girl's cheeks as he spoke, and she threw herarms round his neck and kissed him passionately upon his closed eyelids.
"Dear eyes!" she cried impetuously. "Oh, dear eyes! They are thedearest eyes in all the world, whatever anyone says about them. Itdoesn't matter what you are--you are my Arthur, the best and cleverestbrother in all the world. Nobody is like you!"
"You have a fine career before you still, my boy! You will alwaysfight, I hope, and conquer enemies even more powerful than armed men!"cried Mrs Asplin, trembling. "There are more ways than one of being asoldier, Arthur!"
"I know it, mater," said the young man softly. He straightened his backand stood in silence, his head thrown back, his eyes shining withemotion, as fine a specimen of a young English gentleman as one couldwish to meet. "I know it," he repeated, and Mrs Asplin turned aside tohide her tears. "Oh, my pretty boy!" she was saying to herself. "Oh,my pretty boy! And I'll never see him in his red coat, riding his horselike a prince among them all! I'll never see the medals on his breast!Oh, my poor lad that has the fighting blood in his veins! It's liketearing the heart out of him to turn Arthur Saville into anything but asoldier. And the poor father--what will he say at all, when he hearsthis terrible news?" She dared not trust herself to speak again; theothers were too much stunned and distressed to make any attempt atconsolation, and it was a relief to all when Mellicent's calm,matter-of-fact treble broke the silence.
"Well, for my part, I'm very glad!" she announced slowly. "I'm sorry,of course, if he has to wear spectacles, because they are not becoming,but I'm glad he is not going to be a soldier. I think it's silly havingnothing to do but drill in barracks, and pretending to fight when thereis no one to fight with. I should hate to be a soldier in times ofpeace, and it would be fifty thousand times worse in war. Oh, mygoodness, shouldn't I be in a fright! I should run away--I know Ishould; but Arthur would be in the front of every battle, and it'sabsurd to think that he would not get killed. You know what Arthur is!Did you ever know him have a chance of hurting himself and not takingit? He would be killed in the very first battle--that's my belief--and_then_ you would be sorry that you wanted him to be a soldier! Or, ifhe wasn't killed, he would have his legs shot off. Last time I was inLondon I saw a man with no legs. He was sitting on a little board withwheels on it, and selling matches in the street. Well, I must say I'drather have my brother a civilian, as you call it, than have no legs, orbe cut in pieces by a lot of nasty naked old savages."
A general smile went round the company. There was no resisting it.Even Arthur's face brightened, and he turned his head and looked atMellicent with his old twinkling smile.
"Bravo, Chubby!" he cried. "Bravo, Chubby! Commend me to Mellicent forgood, sound commonsen
se. The prospect of squatting on a board, sellingmatches, is not exhilarating, I must confess. I'm glad there is oneperson at least who thinks my prospects are improved." He gave a littlesigh, which was stifled with praiseworthy quickness. "Well, the worstis over, now that I have told you and written the letter to India.Those were the two things that I dreaded most. Now I shall just have toface life afresh, and see what can be made of it. I must have a talkwith you, sir, later on, and get your advice. Cheer up, Peggikens!Cheer up, mater! It's no use grieving over spilt milk, and Christmas iscoming. It would never do to be in the dolefuls over Christmas! I'vegot a boxful of presents upstairs--amused myself with buying themyesterday to pass the time. You come up with me to-night, Peg, and I'llgive you a peep. You look better than I expected, dear, but fearsomescraggy! We shall have to pad her out a bit, shan't we, mater? Shemust have an extra helping of plum-pudding this year."
He rattled on in his own bright style, or in as near an imitation of itas he could manage, and the others tried their best to follow hisexample and make the evening as cheery as possible. Once or twice thejoy of being all together again in health and strength conquered theunderlying sorrow, and the laughter rang out as gaily as ever; but thenext moment Arthur would draw in his breath with another of those short,stabbing sighs, and Peggy would shiver, and lie back trembling among herpillows. She had no heart to look at Christmas presents that night, butArthur carried her upstairs in his strong arms, laid her on her bed, andsat beside her for ten minutes' precious private talk.
"It's a facer, Peg," he said. "I can't deny it's a facer. When Iwalked out of that doctor's room I felt as weak as a child. The shockknocked the strength out of me. I had never thought of anything elsebut being a soldier, you see, and it's a strange experience to have toface life afresh, with everything that you had expected taken out of it,and nothing ahead but blankness and disappointment. I've been so strongtoo--as strong as a horse. If it hadn't been for that blow--well, it'sover! It's a comfort to me to feel that it was not my own fault. IfI'd been lazy or careless, and had failed in the exam., it would havedriven me crazy; but this was altogether beyond my control. It isfrightfully rough luck, but I don't mean to howl--I must make the bestof what's left!"
"Yes, yes, I'm sure you will. You have begun well, for I think you havebeen wonderfully brave and courageous about it, Arthur dear!"
"Well, of course!" said Arthur softly. "I always meant to be that, Peg;and, as the mater says, it is only another kind of battle. The otherwould have been easier, but I mean to fight still. I am not going togive up all my dreams. You shall be proud of me yet, though not in theway you expected."
"I never was so proud of you in my life!" Peggy cried. "Never in allmy life."
Long after Arthur had kissed her and gone to his own room she lay awake,thinking of his words and of the expression on his handsome face as thefirelight played on moistened eye and trembling lip. "I mean to fight."
"You shall be proud of me yet." The words rang in her ears, and wouldnot be silenced. When she fell asleep Arthur was still by her side; themarks of tears were on his face. He was telling her once more the storyof disappointment and failure; but she could not listen to him, for hereyes were fixed on something that was pinned on the breast of his coat--a little cross with two words printed across its surface.
In her dream Peggy bent forward, and read those two words with a greatrush of joy and exultation.
"For Valour!"
"For Valour!" Yes, yes, it was quite true! Never was soldier flushedwith victory more deserving of that decoration than Arthur Saville inhis hour of disappointment and failure.