Hemming

“ He often spoke bitterly and lightly of those things which most men love and respect. In the sick-room, be it in the rich man's villa or in the mud hut of the plantation labourer, he spoke softly, and his hands were gentle as a woman's.
Hemming had been working with his little army all day, and, after dining at the mess, he changed and relieved Miss Tetson and the doctor. ”

“ He lifted the banjo from the seat, and made it dance and sing through the newest Southern melody. His touch was both dainty and brilliant. He replaced the instrument on the seat between them. He saw that the girl was more favourably impressed with him than she had been. For a little while they kept silence, and her thoughts returned to Valentine Hicks. Suddenly they heard Hemming's voice, pitched low and sharp, in anger. He was hidden from them by shrubs of tangled growth. ”

“ After dinner Miss Tetson described the visitor to Hicks, mentioning the horrible mouth, the shifting eyes, and the odious attentions.
"He must be pretty bad, for you to talk about him," said Valentine, in wonder.
"Oh, if I had never seen men like you and Mr. Hemming," she answered, "he would not seem so utterly ridiculous."
Hicks was in a chair by the window, and Marion was perched on the arm of it. His eyes were desperate. Hers were bright and daring. Her mouth was tremulous.
"I can understand your admiration for Hemming," he said. "He is the best chap on earth, barring only you." ”

“ Hemming felt sorry for him. He saw that the gigantic body was at strife with the manner of life to which it was held, and that the same physique that had proved itself a blessing to the lumberman, was a menace to the desk-worker.
"Better take a few months in the woods," he suggested.
Dodder laughed bitterly. "You might just as well advise me to take a few months in heaven," he said.
Hemming asked for news of O'Rourke.
The manager's face lighted.
"O'Rourke," he exclaimed, "is a man wise in his generation. Shackles of gold couldn't hold that chap from his birthright of freedom. ”

“ At the Trocadero, he found a quiet table, and ordered a quiet dinner. As he waited, he watched the people in the place with happy interest. They came, as he had so often seen them come there before, these men and women in evening dress, laughing and whispering, but now talking of a hundred things to which he was a stranger. The waiters slid about grave and attentive as of old. The women pulled at their gloves, and glanced about them, and more than once Hemming bore, undisturbed, the scrutiny of fair and questioning eyes. ”

“ Hemming completed his arrangements with the syndicate, and, returning to his hotel, lunched solidly on underdone steak, French fried potatoes, a bottle of ale, a jam tart, and coffee. Love might display clay feet. Wells might be as rude as the devil, and Penthouse might go to the devil, but Herbert Hemming did not intend setting forth on his affairs with an empty stomach. The world was a rotten enough place without that. He consumed three cigarettes over his coffee, in a leisurely manner, and by the time he had left his table by the window the great dining-room was empty. ”

“ For more than an hour he worked steadily, while the skipper and Hemming sat side by side on the locker and told stories. The door was hooked open, and a fresh breeze kept the room cool, and circled the pungent smoke.
When Hemming turned in, he found that He could not sleep. His brain jumped and kept busy, in spite of him. Now he lived again his exciting days in Northern India. From this he flashed to the Norfolk tennis lawn, where Molly Travers listened again to his ardent vows. He turned over and tried to win himself to slumber by counting imaginary sheep. ”

“ He stood there between the roses like a fool,—he who had come down to the garden so carelessly, with some jest on his lips.
"Something will happen now," she said, and smiled up at him. Hicks wondered what she meant.
"It is too hot to have anything happen," he replied.
"That is the matter with us,—it is too hot, always too hot, and we are too tired," she said, "but Mr. Hemming does not seem to mind the heat. ”

“ What fun could the little men find in a smokeless revolution? Did they still cling to the hope of receiving back pay? Did they still believe the family to be in the villa? Hemming, seated by the window, with his rifle across his knees, wondered when they would begin to humble his arrogance. Valentine Hicks, eating quinine and prowling from room to room, and window to window, with his Winchester under his arm, lived over and over again his parting with Marion. Smith, armed like a pirate, and itching for a fight, was happier than he had ever been. ”

“ While Hemming and Scott devoured boiled eggs, muffins; and coffee, with Smith waiting on them with a revolver in his pocket, Hicks retired to another room, out of sight of temptation. The poor fellow felt that seven eggs and a plate of muffins would be as nothing in his huge emptiness. He opened one of the upper front windows, and knelt by the sill, rifle in hand. His thoughts were gloomy. The beef tea had only sharpened his appetite and dampened his spirits. Outside, the dawn was quickly strengthening, filling the beautiful gardens with magic, inviting light. ”

“ From O'Rourke, Hemming learned to do things for himself—little things like rolling a blanket, frying bacon, and pitching a tent. In the past there had always been a Mr. Thomas Atkins to look after such trifles. Also he learned that no knowledge comes amiss to a roving newspaper man, from the science of navigation to the art of sewing on patches, and the low occupation of grooming a mule. He realized how much more comfortable his life in the army, and his travelling in Greece and Turkey would have been, had he been able to turn his own hand to the things other people had left undone. ”

“ The sight of the Brazilian brought his dreams to the dust. "Damn," he said, under his breath.
Then he waved his subordinate to a seat.
The captain's manner was as courteous as ever, his smile as urbane, his eyes as unfathomable. But his dusky cheek showed an unusual pallor, and as he sat down he groaned. Hemming eyed him sharply; men like Santosa do not groan unless they are wounded—maybe in their pride, by a friend's word, maybe in their vitals by an enemy's knife. There was no sign of blood on the spotless uniform. ”

“ When news of the colonel's death reached Hemming, he sighed with relief.
"That ends it," he said. "The old man was a fool, but he held them together."
"What about that Penthouse-Cuddlehead chap? He seems to be taking an interest in it," said Hicks.
"He is sneak enough for anything, but he is also a coward," replied Hemming.
"This is a poor sort of revolution," said O'Rourke. "I have had more excitement waiting for my mail at the window of a country post-office. A Sunday-school treat beats it hands down. Davis could invent a better one in his sleep." ”

“ Anderson withdrew his arm with a jerk.
"Can't you see? Are you such a damn fool!" he muttered. "You come along, after you have had your fun, and expect me to produce the joyous bride,—the blushing first-love."
"What the devil is the matter with you?" asked Hemming, aghast.
"So you imagine the world stands still for you,—Mr. Commander-in-Chief? You had better hurry back to your nigger troops, or they'll be having another revolution." ”

“ A new restlessness had him by the heart, lifting him, one moment, to the heights of confidence, only to drag him down, the next, to the depths of uncertainty and longing. Three lines pulsed up to his brain, and he wrote them down. Then he opened his sitting-room window and looked out. The lights in the square gleamed down on the wet pavement. The black tree-tops threshed in the wind. A cab sped down from Fifth Avenue, under the arch. A policeman paused beneath him, and yawned at the bright entrance.
Hemming sniffed the wind, and decided to go for a walk. He circled the square three times. ”

“ Hemming spent two weeks in Greece. He wrote a few descriptive stories for his syndicate, and then crossed into Turkey, where he was offered a commission. He wired that fighting was certain. The syndicate thought otherwise, and called him across the world to see or make trouble in South America. He cursed their stupidity and started, spending only a few hours in England, and taking ship in Liverpool for New York. Arriving in that city, he and his possessions (and he carried a full outfit) journeyed in a cab to an old and respectable hotel on Broadway. The fare he had to pay opened his eyes. ”

“ Penthouse seated upon the pavement, dazed and blasphemous, Hemming returned to the cab and drove away.
CHAPTER III.
HEMMING VISITS THE MANAGER OF THE SYNDICATE
Hemming's club was a favourite resort of military and naval men stationed near town, or home on leave. He met half a dozen whom he knew more or less intimately. All had something to say about his change of career, but presently he escaped them, and sought a quiet corner of the reading-room, where he could smoke and stare at the latest papers. Reading was out of the question. He might as well have tried to sing. ”

“ Hemming had been striding along at a brisk pace, but, when this idea got hold of him, he turned in his tracks and went back to the Trocadero, eager to tell his friend to go ahead and win the happiness in store for him. But when he reached the place, one of the waiters informed him that Major Anderson had gone. He immediately returned to the club. By this time, he had made up his mind to write to Miss Travers, and say good-bye—for ever. On the club stationery he wrote:
"DEAR MOLLY:—My dreams have brought me back to England, and almost to you. ”

“ HEMMING LEARNS SOMETHING ABOUT HIS ARMY
In Pernamba, up the Plado, life had taken on a brighter aspect for at least two of the inhabitants. Marion Tetson was thankful beyond the power of speech, because the fever had left Hicks. True, it had left him thin and weak as a baby, but his very helplessness made him dearer in her eyes. That one who had been so big and strong should ask her to lift his head whenever he wanted a drink, and should have his pillow turned for him without displaying a sign of rebellion, stabbed her to the innermost soul with wonder and pity. ”

“ The bitter smoke drifted from doorway to doorway through the dark. Hemming got his sword from his bedroom, and he and O'Rourke waited at the top of the stairs.
O'Rourke's heart was glad within him. Shoulder to shoulder with a man like Hemming, it would be a lovely fight. The door could not give in soon enough to suit him. He had ten shots in his revolvers. Then he could break a few heads with his clubbed rifle, surely, and, after that, when they had him down, he could kick for awhile. ”

“ He talked of a dozen things dear to Hemming's heart,—of salmon fishing in Labrador, of the sea's moods, of London, of polo, and of current literature,—treating each from the view-point of an outsider. ”

“ He found Stanley alone in a big and lavishly furnished room. He sat at a table, whereon stood two glasses, a syphon of soda-water, and a decanter. He stood up upon Hemming's entrance. "Ah," he said, "this is good of you. We had almost given up hopes of seeing you to-night."
"I was out," replied Hemming, "and just got your note. Where is your seafaring friend?"
"Allow me to introduce you," said Stanley. "Mr. Kelley, my friend, Mr. Hemming."
Hemming looked about him, open-mouthed, and, though he straightened his monocle, he could see neither hair nor track of Mr. Kelley. ”

“ Hemming made all speed to Washington Square. O'Rourke had not yet returned, but on a scrap of paper among his manuscripts he found Tarmont's address. With the help of a cab, he was soon in that gentleman's studio. But, to his disgust, he found that he was not the only visitor. Half a dozen men were lounging on the wide divans, smoking. Hemming managed to get Tarmont away from the crowd. ”

“ Cuddlehead seated himself at the far end of the bench, and began to talk. He described his journey from Pernambuco to Pernamba, and with so fine a wit that Marion smiled. He told little anecdotes of his past, very clever, and very vague as to dates and scenes. The girl almost forgot the sinister aspect of his face in the charm of his conversation, and when he mentioned Hemming, in terms of warmest respect, she confided to him something of his trouble with the army.
"Perhaps I can be of some use; one Englishman should be good for ten of those niggers," he said. ”

“ As soon as he had changed from his rough tweeds into more suitable attire, he started, in a cab, for the Travers house. The bishop was dead, and the widow, preferring London to Norfolk, spent every season in town. Hemming was sure of finding some one at home, though he trembled at the memory of his evil dreams. Upon reaching the house he dismissed the cab. The maid who opened the door recognized him, and showed him into the drawing-room.
"I hope every one is well," he said, pausing on the threshold. ”

“ The colonel sagged in his saddle like a bag of meal.
"I cannot argue," he said, listlessly. "It is too hot to talk. My head aches—the devil take it. You should not have sent the money."
"A touch of sun," suggested Hemming.
The fat Brazilian looked at the blue sky through bloodshot, half-closed eyes.
"The sun," he said, "why, yes, the sun. Damn the sun."
He swayed for a moment, and then slid in a heap to the ground. His men had been watching him, and now two of them ran forward and carried the yielding, flabby body to the nearest fountain.
"Sun and whiskey," commented Hemming. ”