"I must to vespers, Colonel Clark, but I shall hasten back; you can wait here for me."
And Clark would wait impatiently, Ellen returning promptly, as she had promised, to put forth for him, during the rest of the evening, the utmost of her powers of fascination.
Her treatment of me was less flattering, I thought, than that she accorded any of the others. I was no more her best friend, her openly favored comrade. On the contrary, she treated me with alternate indifference, haughtiness and patronage; she would seem to seek occasions of difference, and then, when I was lashed into answering her, would flaunt me angrily, or mock me with sarcasms. Afterwards she would repent her rudeness, and beg my pardon with the sweetest humility and gentleness. But this playing hot and cold on her part kept me in a sort of inward fever, and made me what I had never been in my life before, irritable and quarrelsome. To the men under me, I was peremptory; I was testy with Thomas, and often almost rude with Clark. In truth I was half frenzied with jealousy. A score of times in the day, I would compare myself with Clark—set my appearance and qualities over against his, and cast up the balance between us; but, with all my leaning to my own side, I could not blind myself that neither in manner, person, nor gifts could I rival him. There could be little doubt as to which one of us Ellen would choose when a final choice was forced upon her.
The wild grape vintage was a customary festival with the Kaskaskians. The woods along the river were wreathed with the vines, which looped from branch to branch, or from tree to tree, and even the berry thickets had become trellises to support their luxuriant meanderings. These wild grapes made a rich, delicious wine, much prized by the people as a beverage, and by the priests as an antidote to the far less innocent fire water, peddled by the traders, in boat loads, up and down the river. Colonel Clark not only consented to the celebration of this one of their frequent holidays, but agreed that the soldiers might take part on condition that no liquors be dispensed.
All assisted in the morning's work of gathering the grapes, and piling them in the calèches, or two-wheeled carts, to be hauled to the wine vats, then the afternoon was given up to pleasure and feasting. Games were interspersed with trials of strength and skill, upon the public square of the village; shooting at a mark, hurling the tomahawk, wrestling and racing were the chief contests, which were participated in by Frenchmen and soldiers on equal terms. Colonel Clark, Captain Montgomery, and myself were the chosen judges, and we were careful to distribute the prizes equally, with no very strict regard to merit.
The free half-breeds and the panins, with a few straggling Indians, had also their games apart, presided over by three of our men from the fort, who acted as judges. The supper was provided by Colonel Clark, and besides the usual pancakes and maple syrup, served at nearly all their feasts, there were maize cakes, barbecued venison, corn parched, ground and sweetened, wild duck and plover eggs boiled and roasted, melons, pawpaws, mulberries and sangaree. This supper was served by the cheery matrons of Kaskaskia, from calèches backed in a circle around a part of the green. Later, smiling maidens bedecked with flowers, came out of the low eaved houses, and with the youths and gayer soldiers fell a dancing on the green to the sound of banjo and guitar, in the light of a bright full moon, beneath a star-studded dome of clearest azure. It was a picture of simple Arcadian happiness, which needed only the embellishments of nature to beautify it, only the impulses of nature to stimulate it.
Ellen had been named "Queen of the Festa" by Clark, and the day seemed diverted into an occasion to honor her. It was she who pressed with dainty fingers the juice from the first bunch of grapes, ere they were put into vats for trampling; she who presented the prizes to the victors, or crowned them gracefully with the laurel wreaths. And when the music sounded, Clark led her forth to tread a stately measure alone with him upon the green, ere the general dancing began. I did not know before that either of them could dance—for never had I seen such sport until Nelly Buford had shown me the latest steps at Colonel Morgan's. But Ellen was a daily astonishment, and Clark had learned much in his adventurous life.
When they had thus inaugurated the evening's gayety as also they had presided over the day's festivities, Ellen and Clark wandered through the village together, in the moonlight, she leaning on his arm, and he bending over her like an accepted lover. Half an hour later I saw them seated side by side on the steps, under the nave of the church, absorbed in each other, and entirely unconscious of me, as I passed them on the opposite side of the street. Ellen was all in white, save for a black lace scarf she wore Spanish fashion, about her head, and shoulders, and in the moonlight she was a radiant vision of girlish loveliness—as Clark by her side was a picture of handsome young manhood. "They would be well mated," I thought with a sigh as I passed on, homesick and heartsick. In the darkness of the deserted barracks, I sought my soldier's couch, and lay a long time awake, thinking longingly of home and loved ones and wrestling with the demon of jealousy which threatened to master me.
A deep sigh aroused me after awhile, from the half dream into which I had slipped, and I heard Thomas' voice, praying in low tones. Poor Thomas. He was even more unhappy than I, for he had deserted home, parents, and religion for his idol, who but treated him with cousinly kindness. Yet I rejoiced, though I pitied him; there was hope for Thomas, since his sorrow and disappointment but drove him back to God, and his prayers.