_ CHAPTER XIX. THE BREATH OF THE WAR GOD
The girls proved as good as their word and five minutes later tumbled breathlessly on deck, cheeks flushed and eyes shining with triumph.
"Where's that pound of Huyler's?" Lucile demanded, with an "I told you so" look at Archie.
"I'll pay it as soon as we get to shore," he promised. "It's worth ten boxes of candies to see you so soon," he added, gallantly, and, catching Lucile about the waist, he fox-trotted up the deck to the accompaniment of his own merry whistle.
"Oh, we can do that, too," said Phil, not to be outdone in anything, and soon they were all at it with a swing and a go that made their fond parents, who had come up in the meantime and were watching them, marvel.
"I can give you something better than that to dance to," said Mrs. Applegate, when they had stopped from sheer lack of breath. "There is a phonograph below, and if you boys don't mind the trouble, you might bring it on deck and start it going. Then you can dance to your hearts' content."
Phil gave a whoop of joy and nearly fell down the companionway in his eagerness to find the machine, and the other two boys followed closely on his heels.
"There seems to be no lack of enthusiasm," remarked Mrs. Applegate, as the ladies made themselves comfortable in the big chairs placed against the rail. "They can't seem to get tired. I never knew there was so much bottled-up energy."
The boys soon returned with the phonograph and they were having the time of their lives teaching each other the newest steps when they were interrupted by the arrival of some people from the boat club, who had been invited to meet them.
There were three girls and three boys somewhere about their own age and four of the club's most popular members and their wives.
"There sure is going to be a crowd," said Archie, as the newcomers began to pour over the side, all talking at once. "I wish we could have finished that dance," he added, regretfully.
"Oh, there will be plenty more," said Lucile, smiling roguishly in a way that made him wish all these intruders--for so he regarded them--were at least as far away as the North Pole.
Soon the introductions were over and the girls found themselves liking the gay young strangers immensely. Their English accent and the way they said, "Bah Jove!" and "Beastly hot weather, what?" fascinated the uninitiated girls, and they were soon imitating their new-found friends with surprising success.
"You were dancing when we arrived, weren't you?" asked Anita Derby, a dashing, fair-haired girl, who made almost as many enemies as friends with a rather sharp, unbridled tongue. "I thought I heard a phonograph. What was it you were playing?"
"'Good-bye, Girls,' from 'Chin Chin,'" said Lucile. "It's a splendid fox trot."
"Never heard of it," said Anita. "Peculiar name--'Chin Chin'--what?"
Lucile was about to reply when Mr. Applegate interrupted.
"There's a stiff breeze on the way," he said, casting his weather eye aloft. "And, from the looks of things, it's more than possible that we may run into a storm somewhere up the river. However, we'll have to take a chance on that."
"Oh, I wonder if we will," cried Lucile.
"Don't worry," said Gordon Ridgley, whose gaze had not wandered from Lucile's bright face, with its dancing eyes and mischievous mouth, always quirked in a smile and showing the dimples in the corners of it--he wondered how many dimples she had, anyway--since he had come on board. "If you will come with me forward," he added, "I'll show you the prettiest view of the river there is. B' Jove, it's incomparable!"
Lucile consented rather hesitatingly. To tell the truth, she would much rather have stayed where she was. Nevertheless, they went off around the corner of the cabin, while Archie watched them with a gloomy frown on his face.
"Nervy beggar!" he muttered.
Evelyn squeezed Jessie's hand and whispered, delightedly. "Did you see the look Archie gave that 'bally Henglishman'? There will be a regular duel in Hyde Park yet."
"Shouldn't wonder. I don't know how Lucy ever does it."
Meanwhile, Lucile's cavalier, Gordon Ridgley, had helped her carefully along the deck and established her in a corner from which he had declared the view "incomparable."
"This is rippin' luck," he cried, seizing a couple of handy chairs and dragging them to the rail. "The bally things knew we were coming!"
Lucile laughed happily. She liked being taken care of; it made her think of Jack. Meanwhile, the breeze, which had been steadily rising, had grown perceptibly stronger.
"Oh, this is wonderful!" breathed Lucile, leaning forward and drinking in the beautiful scene. "I've wanted a chance to sail in a real motor boat all my life."
"Well, does it meet with your expectations?"
"It's beginning to. You know, I was crazy about the river yesterday--it was all so different from anything I had ever seen and a thousand times more interesting; but now I can see that I had only begun to appreciate it."
"Oh, it's not such a bad old river," he said, letting his gaze wander out over the water. "I suppose it appeals more to strangers than it does to us natives. For instance, I would much rather see your Hudson River than this."
"I suppose so," said Lucile, dreamily, and then added, almost as though speaking to herself, "But the Hudson, though, of course, it is beautiful and much larger than this, is in a new country, while the Thames--why, the very name makes you think of those old times when there were noble knights and beautiful ladies and jousts and all sorts of interesting things. In those days the knights seemed to go around with a chip on their shoulders all the time. If you happened to step on their foot or any other little thing, they'd flare up, throw a glove or something in your face--I should think it must have hurt sometimes, too--and command you to joust for the honor of knight or lady----" She broke off with a little laugh and added, demurely, "I don't know what you must think of me--I'm not always like this, you know."
"I think you're----" he began, but just what he thought was never expressed, for Mr. Payton and a friend, coming upon them unexpectedly, uttered a surprised exclamation.
"Oh, here you are!" he said, amusement in the glance he gave them. "The young folks are about to start the Victrola; don't you want to join them?"
As if to give proof to his words, a merry one-step reached them from the after deck and Lucile sprang to her feet, looking toward her escort invitingly.
"We can't miss this," she said, with conviction.
Young Ridgely looked as if he could miss it with great pleasure, but he followed her to the after deck, nevertheless.
"Will you go back again after the dance?" he pleaded, as they joined the others. "We were having such a good talk."
"Perhaps," she half promised, with a tantalizing little laugh, and a moment after was swept off into the dance by Archie, who had been seriously considering organizing a search party.
"You were away a mighty long time," he reproached her. "What were you doing all the time with that Ridgely guy?"
"I shouldn't call him a guy; he's a very nice fellow," said Lucile, demurely. "Besides, we were only admiring the view."
"Huh!" grunted Archie, unconvinced. "I dare say he found the view very interesting," he added, meaningly.
"Doubtless he did, since he wants to go back and look at it all over again," she said, wickedly; then, to change the subject, "Doesn't Jessie dance wonderfully? I never saw such an improvement in any one."
"Yes, she dances well, but she can't touch you; nobody can."
So the morning wore merrily on, the young folks stopping only long enough to get their breath between dances. Then came the ever-welcome call to lunch and they tumbled down to the roomy cabin, followed more sedately by their elders, who had enjoyed the morning as much as their offspring, though less riotously. It was a delicious luncheon and, with the added flavor of romantic surroundings and congenial company, was altogether a memorable affair.
When they reached the deck again, they were surprised to find that the sun, which had been shining so brightly before, had gone under a cloud, while the smooth surface of the water was stirred into ripples and eddies by an ever-increasing wind.
"Looks mighty threatening," said Phil, anxiously. "I hope we don't have a downpour."
The others viewed the sudden change with equal trepidation.
"Look at that bank of clouds over there, Lucile," said Archie, pointing to a gigantic cloud formation, black and threatening, and moving swiftly in their direction. "By the way, I take back all I said about your prophecies this morning; it sure looks as if we were in for it now. Wonder what Mr. Applegate thinks of it."
What Mr. Applegate thought of it proved to be certain confirmation of their fears. He stood regarding the threatening sky-line with an anxious frown on his forehead. A moment later a sudden gust of wind struck the boat, heeling it so far to one side that they had to grip the rail and each other to keep from falling, while the vivid flash of lightning, followed by a low, ominous roll of thunder, made them draw closer together.
The captain was roused to sudden action. Turning to his guests, he said, "If you folks don't want to get wet, you had better make your way down below. The storm is due to break any minute now."
Obediently, but reluctantly, they followed directions, descending into the now almost twilight gloom of the cabin.
"Goodness! Whoever would have thought it would get dark so quickly?" said Anita Derby, fearfully. "If there is one thing I detest it is a thunderstorm."
"I think it's kind of exciting," said Lucile, snuggling into a corner of the great leather-cushioned settee that ran around three sides of the cabin and pushing aside a curtain that obstructed her view. "I've always wanted to be on the water in a storm. Oh, look at that flash! Did you ever see anything so vivid?" But her voice was drowned in the great crash of thunder that followed it.
It struck the earth with terrific force; then retired, grumbling and muttering like some tremendous monster robbed of its prey. Then the rain began, pouring down in torrents, dashing itself upon the cabin roof and windows with such violence it seemed solid wood and glass must give way before it. It raged; it danced in frenzy; it hurled itself in stinging dagger points upon the deck, while the wind shrieked a weirdly wild accompaniment.
"It's a hurricane!" shouted Jessie above the wind, and some way in the semi-darkness she found her way to Lucile's side, where Evelyn had come before her. It was strange how the three friends clung together instinctively.
"Oh, Lucy, do you suppose we could possibly be swamped?"
"Of course not," said Lucile, trying with difficulty to be reassuring, as a sudden lurch of the boat sent her back against the cushions. "Didn't you hear the captain say we were perfectly safe?"
"How's this for a storm, eh?" yelled Phil, balancing with difficulty. "If it wasn't for Mother, I'd go on deck and watch."
"And get struck by lightning," said Lucile. "Oh-h!" as another flash rent the darkness, followed by a terrific crash of thunder. "This can't last long."
"Don't be alarmed, any one." It was Mr. Applegate's voice, and though they couldn't locate him in the gloom, it was a comfort just to hear him speak. "It's only a hard shower and an unusually strong wind. It will blow itself out in ten minutes."
The captain was right, and in less time than he allowed the storm began to abate; the flashes of lightning became less frequent, the thunder less and less fierce, and the gloom began to lighten so they could distinguish each other. Slowly and reluctantly the wind died away until only the rolling of the boat remained to testify to its violence.
As soon as Mr. Applegate thought it wise to venture on deck the whole party very willingly repaired there. The sky was still a dull, leaden color, but around the spot where the sun was hiding behind the banked-up clouds shone a misty radiance, sure prophecy of brightness to come.
They were still finding it rather hard to recover their former hilarious spirits when, fifteen minutes later the sky opened as if by magic, letting forth a burst of golden sunshine that flooded the river and danced on the water so gladly and joyously that the girls and boys shouted with delight.
"You wonderful old sun!" cried Lucile. "Why, it makes the world a different place to live in!"
"It is all the difference between night and day," said Major Ridgely, Gordon's father, a tall, well-built man with a mass of iron-gray hair framing a strong-featured face--the face of a scholar and a gentleman. "And it's like the difference," he continued, slowly and with emphasis, "it's like the difference between peace and--war."
There was silence for a full moment while the young folks regarded him with astonishment and interest, for they sensed a deeper meaning behind his words.
"You mean," it was Mr. Payton that spoke, "you mean, Major, that you think there is any immediate danger of--war?"
"War--is--imminent." The Major spoke slowly, pronouncing each word with exaggerated distinctness. "I am no prophet, sir, but, unless I am very much mistaken, the month of August will see part of this continent plunged in the bloodiest war the world has ever known."
"War! War!" The word ran from one to the other, as the Major continued:
"It has been coming for years. For years the interests and ambitions of at least two great nations--Germany and Russia--have been antagonistic. For years the countries of Europe have been looking forward to the time when the slender strand of national amity would be snapped like a thread and the nations plunged into deadly conflict. And now, it seems to me, the time is ripe!"
The young folks had been drinking in the conversation eagerly. War! Why, they had read of war, of course, in their history books; but war, in their time, in their generation, under their very noses, as it were! Why, it was impossible!
But the Major was speaking again. "For years the sole aim and goal of the German house of Hohenzollern has been the perfection to a marvelous degree of her policy of militarism. Why, there is not a man in the whole German Empire, who, at the command of his country, could not take his place, a trained soldier, in the tremendous, perfected military machine that is the German army."
"Why, Dad, does that mean that we may have to fight?" fairly shouted Phil, who could not restrain himself a moment longer. "Now, right away----"
"We won't son," said his father, kindly. "Thank Heaven, we will have the broad Atlantic between us and the horrors of war!"
"War? Who talks of war?" cried little Mrs. Applegate, coming breezily up to them from the depths, where she had probably been giving some very important instructions for dinner. "I won't have the ugly word spoken on board my ship. Why, everybody looks as if they had seen a ghost. What have you been talking about?"
"Why, you heard, my dear," said her husband, kindly. "We were simply discussing the possibility of----"
"Stop!" shrieked the little woman, clapping her hands to her ears. "I won't have it! Somebody start the phonograph--do!"
Gordon laughingly obeyed and soon they were all dancing merrily as if the great cloud of war were not hanging over all Europe. When the young folks were tired of dancing they settled themselves comfortably on the deck, talking, laughing, singing college songs, and otherwise enjoying themselves.
It was not till evening, when they had bidden their hosts good-night, after thanking them heartily for "the most glorious day they had ever spent," that the topic of the afternoon was again referred to.
"Do you think there is really any possibility of war?" Lucile asked of Archie, as they were nearing the hotel.
"There's no telling," he answered, seriously. "It looks rather like it now. You and I needn't worry, anyhow; we won't get any of it. Unless," he added, whimsically, "unless you should decide to go as a Red Cross nurse. Then I might even desert the Red, White and Blue and volunteer my services in the war."
And so they parted, with an almost imperceptible cloud shadowing their gayety. Little did Archie think, when he declared so confidently that "they wouldn't get any of it," that before the summer was over, they would experience to some infinitesimal extent the cruel, relentless, crushing power of that tremendous grinding machine men term--WAR! _