“Bless me!” ejaculated the general, as he left the table; “that has the true ring in it. Nancy, see that these folks have a sip of coffee, and something to eat, and when you’ve broke your fast, my lad, come out into the square. I guess the captain will be ready by that time.” 215
Tom felt some diffidence about accepting the invitation of the general; but Mrs. McElroy was a true lady, and her winning smile, as she filled his cup with the fragrant beverage from the silver urn, put him at ease. She had many a woman’s question to ask about his adventures of yesterday morning, and seemed never to tire admiring his heroic conduct. He was just explaining for the third time how he pushed the savage from the cliff, when his voice was drowned by that of a girl, who came tripping and singing through the long hall that led into the dining-room. Hers were the same bird-like notes that came through the open window. It was the general’s only daughter, Alice, who, as she burst into the apartment, stopped in surprise as she saw strangers there.
“Just in time, Alice,” said the mother, pleasantly, “to hear this story.”
The girl was scarcely in her teens, and her fair face, expressive of good sense, gentleness, and intellectuality, was set off by a wealth of auburn curls that fell in careless profusion over her shoulders.
Tom had never known anything of sentiment, or thought much of personal looks, but he had a quick eye for grace and beauty, and, charmed at the unexpected ingress of the little fairy, he forgot alike his food, his manners, and his story, and 216 gazed in stupid silence at the lovely apparition. The mother comprehended the state of things, and, with a look of gratified maternal pride, said to Tom,–
“But you mustn’t forget your plate; you have had a long ride, you know, and have another before you.”
This recalled Tom to his senses, and in his straightforward, manly way he finished the account of the affair.
“The captain’s most ready,” said black Nancy, glancing out of the window, as Tom finished his repast.
“Farewell, my boy,” said Mrs. McElroy. “I wish you success, and hope no harm will come to you;” and Tom went out and mounted the horse that had been provided for him, and shaking hands with the kind settler who brought him there, he saw Mrs. McElroy and Alice waving their handkerchiefs, as he and the men rode in military order out of the square.
The horses were in good order, and the men in fine spirits, glad, after their idle life within the fort, to be sent on active duty. The day was almost cloudless, the air pure and bracing, and they coursed the smooth prairies at a rapid rate. Yet to Tom’s anxious heart the moments seemed long; and when they stopped at noon for refreshment, and to bait the horses, Tom could scarcely 217 brook the delay. He was really on his way with a brave band for the rescue. The thought of this was joyful to him, yet he was afraid that they might arrive too late; and as the soldiers lay upon the grass eating their rations, Captain Manly, reading his feelings, said to him,–