The wonder of it! They stood very still, looking for a long time into each other's eyes. Could the veil of the hereafter have been lifted for them at that moment and they have seen themselves walking that same garden path, hand in hand, their faces seamed with age to other eyes, but changed in not a line to them, the vision would not have added a jot to their perfect faith. They would have nodded to each other and smiled--"Yes, we know, we know!" The night, the rushing earth, the star-swept spaces of the infinite held no greater wonder than was theirs--they held no wonder at all. The moon shone, that night, for them; the wind whispered, leaves danced, flowers nodded, and crickets chirped from the grass for them; the farthest star kept eternal lids apart just for them and beyond, the Maker himself looked down, that night, just to bless them.
Back they went through the old garden, hand in hand. No caress had ever passed between these two. That any man could ever dare even to dream of touching her sacred lips had been beyond the boy's imaginings--such was the reverence in his love for her--and his very soul shook when, at the gate, Margaret's eyes dropped from his to the sabre cut on his cheek and she suddenly lifted her face.
"I know how you got that, Chad," she said, and with her lips she gently touched the scar. Almost timidly the boy drew her to him. Again her lips were lifted in sweet surrender, and every wound that he had known in his life was healed.
. . . . . .
"I'll show you your horse, Chad."
They did not waken old Tom, but went around to the stable and Chad led out a handsome colt, his satiny coat shining in the moonlight like silver. He lifted his proud head, when he saw Margaret, and whinnied.
"He knows his mistress, Margaret--and he's yours.""Oh, no, Chad."
"Yes," said Chad, "I've still got Dixie."
"Do you still call her Dixie?"
"All through the war."
Homeward they went through the dewy fields.
"I wish I could have seen the Major before he died. If he could only have known how I suffered at causing him so much sorrow. And if you could have known ""He did know and so did I--later. All that is over now."They had reached the stone wall and Chad picked up the flag again.
"This is the only time I have ever carried this flag, unless I--unless it had been captured.""You had captured it, Chad."
"There?" Chad pointed to the stile and Margaret nodded.
"There--here everywhere."
Seated on the porch, Mrs. Dean and Harry and Dan saw them coming across the field and Mrs. Dean sighed.
"Father would not say a word against it, mother," said the elder boy, "if he were here.""No," said Dan, "not a word."
"Listen, mother," said Harry, and he told the two about Chad's ride for Dan from Frankfort to Lexington. "He asked me not to tell. He did not wish Margaret to know. And listen again, mother. In a skirmish one day we were fighting hand to hand. I saw one man with his pistol levelled at me and another with his sabre lifted on Chad. He saw them both. My pistol was empty, and do you know what he did? He shot the man who was about to shoot me instead of his own assailant. That is how he got that scar. I did tell Margaret that.""Yes, you must go down in the mountain first," Margaret was saying, "and see if there is anything you can do for the people who were s' good to you--and to see Melissa. I am worried about her.""And then I must come back to you?"
"Yes, you must come back to see me once more if you can. And then some day you will come again and buy back the Major's farm "--she stopped, blushing. "Ithink that was his wish Chad, that you and I--but I would never let him say it.""And if that should take too long?"
"I will come to you, Chad," said Margaret.
Old Mammy came out on the porch as they were climbing the stile.
"Ole Miss," she said, indignantly, "my Tom say that he can't get nary a triflin' nigger to come out hyeh to wuk, an' ef that cawnfiel' ain't ploughed mighty soon, it's gwine to bu'n up.""How many horses are there on the place, Mammy?" asked Dan.
"Hosses!" sniffed the old woman. "They ain't NARY a hoss--nothin' but two ole broken-down mules.""Well, I'll take one and start a plough myself," said Harry.
"And I'll take the other," said Dan.
Mammy groaned.
. . . . . .
And still the wonder of that night to Chad and Margaret!
"It was General Hunt who taught me to understand--and forgive. Do you know what he said? That every man, on both sides, was right--who did his duty.""God bless him," said Chad.
