Название: John March, Southerner
Автор: Cable George Washington
Издательство: Public Domain
Жанр: Зарубежная классика
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"Yes, I did. Why, John, you never in your life offered me a sign of regard but I felt it an honor. You've often tripped and stumbled, but I – oh, I'm too bad myself to like a perfect boy. What I like is a boy with a conscience."
"My guiding star!" murmured John.
"Oh! ridiculous! – No, I take that back! But – but – why, that's what disappoints me! If you'd made me just your first mile-board. But it hurts me – oh, it hurts me! and – far worse – it's hurting Cousin Rose Garnet! to – now, don't flush up that way – to see John March living by passion and not by principle!"
"H – oh! Miss Fannie!" He strained up a superior smile. "Is passion – are passions bound to be ignoble? But you're making the usual mistake – "
"How, John?" She put on a condescending patience.
"Why, in fancying you women can guide a man by – "
"Preaching?" the girl interrupted. Her face had changed. "I know we can't," she added, abstractedly. John was trying to push his advantage.
"Passion!" he exclaimed. "Passion? Miss Fannie, you look at life with a woman's view! We men – what are we without passion – all the passions? Furnaces without fire! Ships without sails!"
"True! John. And just as true for women. But without principles we're ships without rudders. Passion ought to fill our sails, yes; but if principles don't steer we're lost!"
"Now, are you not making yourself my guiding star?"
"No! I won't have the awful responsibility! I'm nothing but a misguided girl. Guiding star! Oh, fancy calling me that when your dear old – "
"Do – o – on't!"
"Then take it back and be a guiding star yourself! See here! D'you remember the day at the tournament when you were my knight? John March, can you believe it? I! me! this girl! Fannie Halliday! member of the choir! I prayed for you that day. I did, for a fact! I prayed you might come to be one of the few who are the knights of all mankind; and here you – John, if I had a thousand gold dollars I'd rather lose them in the sea than have you do what you're this day – "
"Miss Fannie, stop; I'm not doing it. It's not going to be done. But oh! if you knew what spurred me on – I can't expl – "
"You needn't. I've known all about it for years! I got it from the girls who put you to bed that night. But no one else knows it and they'll never tell. John," Fannie pushed her gaiter's tip with her parasol, "guess who was here all last evening, smoking the pipe of peace with pop."
"Jeff-Jack?"
"I mean besides him. Brother Garnet! John, what is that man mostly, fox or goose?"
"Oh, now, Miss Fannie, you're unjust! You're – you're partisan!"
"Hmm! That's what pop called me. He says Major Garnet means well, only he's a moss-back. Sakes alive! That's worse than fox and goose in one!" Her eyes danced merrily. "Why, that man's still in the siege of Vicksburg, feeding Rosemont and Suez with its mule meat, John."
"Miss Fannie, it's my benefactor you're speaking of."
"Aw! your grandmother! Look here. Why'd he bring Mr. Ravenel here – for Mr. Ravenel didn't bring him – to pow-wow with pop? Of course he had some purpose – some plan. It's only you that's all sympathies – no plans."
"Why, it's not an hour," cried John, rising, "since Jeff-Jack told me he wasn't a man of plans, other men's plans were good enough for him!"
Fannie's mouth opened and her eyes widened with merriment. "Oh – oh – mm – mm – mm." She looked up at the sky and then sidewise at the youth. "Sit down, sit down; you need the rest! Oh!" She rounded her mouth and laughed.
"Now, see here, John March, you've no right to make me behave so. Listen! I have a sneaking notion that, with some reference to your mountain lands, Brother Garnet – whom, I declare, John, I wouldn't speak to if it wasn't for Cousin Rose – has for years built you into his plans, including those he brought here last night. In a few days you'll at last be through Rosemont; but I believe he'd be glad to see you live for years yet on loves, hates, and borrowed money. Oh! for your father's sake, don't please that man that way! Why can't you plan? Why don't you guide? You plan fast enough when passion controls you; plan with your passions under your control. Build men —build him– into your plans. Why, John, owning as much of God's earth as you do, you're honor bound to plan."
"I know it, Miss Fannie. I've been feeling it a long time; now I see it." He started to catch up the rose she had dropped, but the laugh was hers; her foot was on it.
"You – don't you dare, sir! John, there's my foot's sermon. D'you see? Everybody should put his own rose and thorn, both alike, under his own foot. Shod or unshod, sir, we all have to do it. Now, why can't you bring Mr. Ravenel to see pop with a plan of your own? I believe – of course I don't know, but I suspect – Brother Garnet has left something out of his plan that you can take into yours and make yours win. Would you like to see it?" She patted her lips with her parasol handle and smiled bewitchingly.
"Would I – what do you mean, Miss Fannie?"
"Why, I've got it here in the house. It's a secret, but" – lips and parasol again, eyes wickeder than ever – "it's something that you can see and touch. Promise you'll never tell, never-never-never?"
He promised.
"Wait here." She ran into the house, trolling a song. As John sat listening for her return, the thought came abruptly, "Hasn't Jeff-Jack got something to do with this?" But there was scarcely time to resent it when she reopened the door coyly, beckoned him in, passed out, and closed it; and, watchworn, wasted, more dead than alive, there stood before John the thing Garnet was omitting – Cornelius Leggett.
When John passed out again Fannie saw purpose in his face and smiled.
"Well? – Can you build him in? – into your plans?"
The youth stared unintelligently. She laughed at him.
"My stars! you forgot to try!"
It was late at night when Lazarus Graves and Captain Champion, returning from Pulaski City, where they had been hurrying matters into shape for the prosecution of Leggett, rode down the Susie and Pussie Pike toward Suez. Where the Widewood road forked off into the forest on their left they stopped, having unexpectedly come upon a third rider bound the other way. He seemed quite alone and stood by his horse in deep shade, tightening the girth and readjusting blanket and saddle. Champion laughed and predicted his own fate after death.
"Turn that freckled face o' yo's around here, Johnnie March; we ain't Garnet and Pettigrew, an' th' ain't nothin' the matteh with that saddle."
"Howdy, Cap'm," said John, as if too busy to look up.
"Howdy yo'seff! What new devilment you up to now? None? Oh, then we didn't see nobody slide off fum behine that saddle an' slip into the bushes. Who was it, John? Was it Johanna, so-called?"
"No, it was Leggett," said John.
"Oh, I reckon!" laughed the Captain.
"Come on," grumbled Graves, and they left him.
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