Chapter 33 Girls of the True Blue by L. T. Meade
THE CROSS
Never had Augusta looked so well as she did that night. She danced quite beautifully, and was really a brilliant young mistress of the ceremonies. Many were the admiring glances cast at her, and loud the admiration she evoked. For the time being Augusta was unselfish. She thought of the comfort and pleasure of her guests. She managed to make the awkward ones feel at ease, and the shy ones feel at home; at the same time she kept the too forward children in order—in short, she was invaluable.
Uncle Peter was especially struck both by her conduct and her appearance.
“She really is a fine girl,” he said to himself. “There is something wonderfully taking about her to-night; and how good she is, and self-forgetful! I shall have more pleasure than I had the least idea of a few hours ago in presenting her with the Royal Cross.”
As these thoughts came to him, he observed that Augusta was standing where the full draught of the open door blew upon her thin evening-dress. She shivered, and sank down on the nearest chair.
Captain Richmond immediately went to her side.
“Augusta,” he said, “have you a dance to spare for me? You haven’t given me one yet.”
“I can give you the present one,” she replied at once, “if you will sit it out with me.”
“With pleasure! Where shall we go? You are in a fearful draught just here, and you look positively cold.”
“I am shivering,” replied Augusta. “Let us go to the conservatory.”
They went there. The conservatory was too hot for many people on this summer’s night, and was comparatively empty. Augusta sank down on a seat.
“I will get you a wrap,” said the Captain. “You ought not to feel cold on a night like this.”
“Oh, I am quite all right,” she answered. “Don’t leave me; let us sit down and talk. You are very fond of Nancy, are you not?”
“Of course; we all are,” he replied.
“I should like to say——” stammered Augusta.
“What, my dear?”
She paused and looked full at her questioner.
“This,” she said: “you know I am not an especially nice girl, but I can admire goodness when I see it in others. Now, no one was ever half so good as Nancy; and even if appearances seem to have been against her, she was far and away the best of us all.—Oh, what am I saying? What utter nonsense am I talking? Will you take me back to the ballroom, please? I would not miss the next waltz for anything.”
“I will take you back when you have explained your last words.”
“There is nothing to explain—nothing at all. I spoke quite at random. Dear little Nancy! I am as fond of her as you are.”
“Listen, Augusta,” said the Captain. “I didn’t mean to confide in you, but I will. You know of the little ceremony which is to take place to-night when the dance is over. We are to go into the inner drawing-room, and there it will be decided, from what I shall read aloud out of the orderly-book, which of you four girls is to receive the Royal Cross.”
“Of course; I know that,” answered Augusta.
“Yes; but listen. There is an entry in the orderly-book against Nancy’s name which puts her out of the running.”
“Puts her out of the running!” whispered Augusta. Her very lips were white.
Captain Richmond’s eyes seemed like gimlets piercing into her soul.
“There is a charge against Nancy which, made against any child, would condemn her—condemn her so utterly that one could not think of her as a winner of that great prize which means nobleness of conduct, valour, and all the rest. Augusta, you will all know soon, but it does not matter my telling you an hour or so before the others. Nancy Esterleigh is charged with cruelty. Can you, Gussie, help me to throw light upon, in her case, such an unnatural accusation?”
There was a wild beating in Augusta’s ears; her head ached so terribly that she was almost giddy, and a cold chill ran down her back. She turned aside and plucked a geranium blossom from a great flowering bush near by.
“Can you?” said the Captain again.
“No. How is it possible? The accusation has astonished me.”
“There is also that curious thing which happened with regard to her bird. Can you throw any light upon that?”
“No—no; a thousand times no. What do you take me for? Do you think I would let little Nancy suffer if I could help her?”
“Of course not,” said the Captain coldly. “I think the dance has come to an end. May I take you back to the ballroom?”
For the rest of that evening Augusta was not still for a single moment. When she was not dancing she was walking about. Her laugh could be heard gay, almost shrill. Her cheeks wore pink with the flush of fever, which those who saw her mistook for health. She was far and away the most successful girl at the dance. Even Nancy, beautiful little girl as she was, and lovely as she looked in the new frock, was not to be compared with her.
But all good things, as well as bad things, come to an end, and by-and-by the ball was over. The party broke up; the young folk put on their wraps, said good-bye to their hosts, and left Fairleigh. The last sound of the last carriage-wheel died away. The four girls, Miss Roy, and Captain Richmond faced each other. It was on the stroke of midnight.
“How tired you all look!” said Miss Roy. “Shall we defer the further ceremony until to-morrow?”
“No,” said Captain Richmond; “this is the appointed day. Come at once, all of you.”
The servants were rushing about, locking up and putting things in order. Captain Richmond conducted his party to the front drawing-room, and turned the key in the lock. The electric light made the room bright as day. The windows looking on to the lawn were wide open. When they all entered the room, Captain Richmond opened the drawer, the lock of which had been injured by Augusta, and took the orderly-book out. At the same moment he put his hand in his pocket and produced a small morocco case, which he laid on the table.
“Now, my little soldiers,” he said, “the crucial moment of our campaign has arrived. You have been under my command, and have also been disciplined by my good ally, Sergeant Roy, for the last few months; and, on the whole, I trust you feel better, morally and physically, for the soldier’s life.”
“Oh yes, indeed!” cried Nora. “We like it awfully. I hope we are not going to cease to be soldiers to-night, Uncle Pete.”
“Certainly not, Nora. In one sense you must always be soldiers, but whether you remain in my battalion will depend a great deal on yourselves. But now to business; you are tired, and we must not linger. This book gives, in a condensed form, the history of your lives from the moment you enlisted under my banner. Now then, soldiers of the True Blue, we will see what it says about you.”
Here Captain Richmond opened the book. He looked quickly down the pages which related to Nora’s life.
“An excellent report on the whole, Nora,” he said when he had finished, “but conduct not immaculate—a few errors, dear, in the form of untidy rooms, lost property, and forgotten duties. Nothing exactly serious, but”——
The Captain’s “but” was emphatic. Nora turned from pink to white.
“I knew it,” she said to her sister. “I never, never expected”——
“Hush!” said Kitty, “Uncle Pete is speaking again.”
“Kitty, on the whole you have done better than Nora. Your industry has been unparalleled, and, in short, I think you are deserving of a prize. If you hadn’t been so inveterately careless, my little girl, there might have been a chance of my giving you the prize. But see here, Kit—here, and here, and here.” The Captain laid his finger against certain marks in Kitty’s record.
Kitty coloured and stepped back.
“I deserve them all,” she said.
“Well, that is something worth hearing,” he answered with heartiness, “for when we know our faults, then is the time when we begin to mend them.—Now then, Nancy.”
Nancy was standing by an open window. Her face looked serene and quiet. She did not for a moment think that she would win the Royal Cross; but, at the same time, she did not think there could be any grave charge chronicled against her name.
“Nancy, I have something sad to say to you,” said the Captain, going forward and taking her hand in his as he spoke. “Even still I think there must be some explanation.”
“What—what,” cried Nancy—“what do you mean?”
“Don’t tremble so, Nancy. Listen. Your conduct has been irreproachable, and your struggle to maintain a high level in morals and intellect very great; but, alas! on one occasion you fell—a good deep fall, Nancy—you fell from a high ladder.”
“I fell from a height! Oh, what do you mean?”
She looked wildly at Augusta, who glanced at Miss Roy. Miss Roy turned aside; Augusta’s bold eyes were fixed upon her face.
“I have fallen from a height! When? Where? How?”
“Here,” said the Captain; “see for yourself. Every one need not know, but you must know; read for yourself.”
Dizzily the little girl bent her head. For a moment she could see nothing. Then she read, as though they were written in letters of fire, the dreadful words, “Guilty of cruelty.”
She read this aloud and flung back her head.
“That I have never been guilty of. It is a lie; it is a black lie. I have never been cruel in all my life.”
The Captain sighed.
“It is in Aunt Jessie’s own handwriting. I am afraid there is no refuge from this storm. You had better not add to”——
“Oh! don’t say any more; I cannot—cannot stand it,” said the child.
She was about to rush through the open window, when Augusta stepped forward and held her hand.
“Be quiet,” she said—“for my sake.”
Again the extraordinary influence which Augusta had over the little girl made itself felt. Nancy stood still, allowing Augusta to hold her hand within her own hot clasp; she partly turned her back upon the others.
“There is no bad mark against your name, Augusta,” said the Captain after a pause, his voice slightly shaking. “All through these months of training and discipline your conduct has been admirable. You have been industrious; you have been courteous; you have been kind. You have, I doubt not, been also unselfish; therefore I proclaim you the happy possessor of the Royal Cross. Come here and let me fasten it round your neck.”
Augusta came totteringly forward. All eyes were fixed upon her; Nancy’s, no longer gentle, but fierce and defiant, were raised to watch her face, but Augusta would not now look at Nancy.
The Royal Cross was made of deep-blue enamel, inlaid in rich silver. It was in the shape of an Irish cross, and was very beautiful. On it were engraved the words, For valour in the fight. The cross was attached to a narrow silver chain. Captain Richmond slipped the chain round Augusta’s throat, and the deep-blue cross shone on her bare white neck.
Just then, before any one could speak, there came on the air the sound of a tolling bell. It was distinctly audible. It tolled three times and then stopped, three times again and then stopped, and then three times once more.
“Some woman has died, poor thing!” said the Captain.
Then the solemn notes rang out again. They sounded sixteen times.
Augusta uttered a cry.
“It is Connie!” she said. “Oh, what shall I do?”
The next instant the wretched girl had fallen in a dead faint on the floor.