Prev | Current Page 212 | Next

Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Love under Fire"

"
"Well, yes, that's a partial explanation. I prefer to see fair play. Yet
I am going to confess that isn't all of it. I rather like you, young
man--not your damned uniform, understand--and the way you've acted
toward my girl. You've been honorable and square, and, by Gad, sir,
you're a gentleman. That's why I am going to see you through this
affair. If all I hear is true, Le Gaire came back to me with a lie, and
that is something I have never taken yet from any man."
He stood straight as an arrow, his shoulders squared, his slender form
buttoned tightly in the gray uniform coat. The sun was upon his face,
clear-cut, proud, aristocratic, and his eyes were the same gray-blue as
his daughter's. Then he held out his hand and I clasped it gladly.
"I cannot express the gratitude I feel, Major Hardy," I faltered. "One
hardly expects such kindness from an enemy."
"Not an enemy, my boy--merely a foeman. I am a West Pointer, and some of
the dearest friends I have are upon the other side. But come, let us not
be the last on the field."
He tried to talk with me pleasantly as we crossed the garden, and
approached the stable, and I must have answered, yet my mind was
elsewhere. This was all new to me, and my mood was a sober one. My
father was an old-time Puritan to whom personal combat was abomination,
and even now I could feel his condemnation of my course.


Pages:
200 201 202 203 204 205 206 207 208 209 210 211 212 213 214 215 216 217 218 219 220 221 222 223 224