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The head and limbs of the figure drooped down the sides of the mound, falling with the limpness of death. About the noble, lifeless head were bent and broken stalks of poppies, ridden down by the horses, yet not wholly destroyed. Herman and Mrs. Greyson stood in silence looking at the figure, the pathos of the work so penetrating Helen that the tears gathered in her eyes.
Finally Silas Greyson agreed, and Ben promised to be on hand bright and early the next day. It may be stated here that wood was very cheap at Pentonville, so that Ben would not be overpaid. There were some few things about the house which Ben wished to do for his mother before he went to work anywhere, and he thought this a good opportunity to do them.
Cap flushed, breathless and confused, looked up and was caught to the bosom of Herbert Greyson, who, pale with concentrated rage, held her closely and inquired: "Capitola! What violence is this which has been done you? Explain! who is the aggresor?" "Wai, wai, wait until I get my breath! There! that was good! That villain has all but strangled me to death?
"Strange," she was going to say, but fortunately caught herself in time and substituted "capital. It is good to think that Boston will have one really fine statue." "Aren't you in that, Mrs. Greyson?" Mrs. Frostwinch asked. "No," Helen answered. "I am really doing little since I came home. I am waiting until the time serves, I suppose."
And Captain Zuten became the willing coadjutor and instrument of his vengeance. Between them they concocted a plot to bring the unfortunate young man to an ignominious death. One morning, about the first of September, Major Greyson, in going his rounds, came upon Traverse, standing sentry near one of the outposts.
Something in the words and in the appealing beauty made Marg quiver. Had happiness and justice been meted out to Marg Greyson she would have been the tenderest of sisters to Nella-Rose. Several years lay between them; the younger girl was encroaching upon the diminishing rights of the older.
"Some of your griefs you have cured, And the sharpest you still have survived, But what torments of pain you endured, From evils that never arrived!" Evadne quoted the words from a book of old French poems she had found in the library. Then she asked gently, "Why should you worry about the future, dear Mrs. Greyson, when it is such a waste of time? Don't you believe our Father loves his children?
These volunteers were now being daily drilled at their quarters in the city, and were only waiting the arrival of the vessel to be enrolled in the regiment. One morning, a few days after the ship reached harbor, Herbert Greyson went on shore to the military rendezvous to see the new recruits exercised.
"Ah, Herbert, all that seems now to be more unsubstantial than the fabric of a dream. I cannot think of Clara or of my mother without despair. For oh, Herbert, between me and them there seems to yawn a dishonored grave! Herbert, they talk, you know, of an attack upon the Molino-del-Rey, and I almost hope to fall in that charge!" "Why?" inquired Major Greyson, in dismay.
Greyson," Herman said, "you have produced a veritable dragon's brood this time. I can almost hear them hiss." "Do you know," she responded, smoothing the glittering shapes with half chary touches. "I should not be wholly willing to have the vase in my room at night. They might, you know, come to life and go gliding about in a ghastly way."
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