The Hour of Triumph.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume XLVII, Issue 8036, 25 January 1906, Page 4

The Hour of Triumph.

" There," exclaimed the girl prettily, " I believe I could bo brave—at any rate tor a little while—if a good band inspirited me!" She glanced from a programme to the face of the man standing beside her, and looked at bis scrawled initials with satisfaction. She had danced with the hero of the hour, and without administering ojen flattery, had conveyed delicate homage and praise to a man whose bravery was on every tongue. He returned the smile; but at the moment, another partner claimed her, before his rather slow tongue had asked for another dance. He stood alone, a noticeable figure, under some palms in the corridor, close to the entrance of the ballroom. He watched with delight one pretty woman after another flit by him, heard the rustle of Bilk, the faint swish of trains, and allowed his eyes to absorb the feast of color. * » What a change I Major Kinnaird, Y.C„ D.5.0., of the Queers Own Leaders, the hero of the Aletta Expedition, the man who had achieved the apparently impossible, found himself thinking of the stern hills where he had held such anxious vigils under the stars. He remembered a valley, gav with unexpected flowers. How the sight had cheered even the sternest of the Sikh soldiers! In the ballroom banks of roses, ferns, and palms were only a background to the charms of the women. This day was surely the one to be marked with the white stone of happy memory! The King had received him at Buckingham Palace decorating him with his own hands, and speaking words that set the blood tingling in his veins. To-night he was the honored guest of the charming Countess of Dreyncourt, aud the gay world met him with the words: "Well done! "—spoken or implied. This incense of praise was fragrant; yet, without the other members o! the expedition, what could he have accomplished ? He wished they could all share this evening with him ; and then he smiled. His Sikhs—splendid fighting Sikhs—how would the gay scene afiect them—the lights, the flashing jewels on the white necks of the women ? He turned his head. The corridor was, at the moment, almost empty. Approaching him, walking alone, came the figure of a woman. His heart beat madly. This, then, was indeed, his day of days 1

He met her unconventionally, anil took both her gloved hands in a strong clasp. "I, like the children, register my belief in fairies. To meet you—and to-night! Miss Dallas, you cannot dance; you must talk to me! " •'Ah," she said softly, " I never thought (f meeting you here! How long ago is ittwo years? So much happens in two yearj. Please!—you are hurting my hands." He let them go reluctantly, looking as if he could have kissed them then and there, and teasted his eyes on the delightful freshness of her face. Some people denied her beauty, but charm was there, her dark, sparkling eyes contrast' ing perfectly with curly fair hair. The man looked round jealously. Here, as at Simla, she doubtless had a little court; and he wanted very much to be alone with her for a little time. To-night she was strangely silent, even a little embarrassed. His heart beat gladly. Surely she understood?—surely ihe was glad to see him? " Come!" he said determinedly. " There is a little room over there; and I have so much to tell you. Is your programme full?" He took it from her hand, neither of them noticing that the little gilt pencil, insecurely fastened, fell noiselessly upon the thick pile of the carpet. He placed her on a low chair, and stood for a moment looking down upon her, feasting his eyes upon her face. She seemed reluctant to meet his gaze, and held out her hand for the programme. " I should like to put my initials against every dance. No pencil ? Well, I can remedy that. Look!" He slipped his hand into a pocket, and brought out a loose watch and chain. At one end of the chain there dangled a tiny pencil, with a crown above it, and the crest of the Queen's Own Leaders. " Do you remember it ? It has been with me everywhere for t\v6* whole years, Sometimes up on the frontier I used to fancy that when I held it I could hear the band, see- —'' She clasped and unclasped her hands nervously. " I am afraid you stole my pencil." " Yes: it was all I dared ask for then ; but now " "Wereyou shut off from everything?" she asked quickly. " Did you hear no news ? Surely vm had your ' Homeward Mail' ? " " Now and agftinl But not a vestige of anything reached us"Tul—sn™<* months. I dare say a loving Government will forward belated letters sometime. " Still, what does that matter? It is all over now and I have met you. " I must speak ! " he continued, raising his voice. " You know what I wanted to say at that Simla Ball ? You must know ! I was a poor devil of a captain, and had—er— I had a sister to look after, as you may remember. She is married now, and luck has smiled a bit; and "

She leant forward, her eyes travelling wildly round the room, as if Bearohing for some avenue of escape. He felt a momentary chill; the words died on his lips. She got up swiftly, and, placing her hands behind her back like a child saying a lesson, she filed troubled eyes on the ground, and said slowly: " I was married a year ago." The fingers of her right hand were nervously undoing the buttons of the other glove which concealed her wedding-ring. She felt him shiver, and his silence seemed to eat into her very soul. " Oh," she spoke pitcously, "I am sorrysorry ! I thought you must know; and—and I did not know you really cared. Listen 1 You shall listen ! At Simla, Captain Field congratulated me on my engagement to you ; and, when I protested, explained the mistake by saying he had misunderstood something you said. "I made him speak; and—and—he said that at the club you had declared I was yours for the asking ! Ah, didn't you say it ? I was angry, furious; and you went away suddenly. Say you said it—oh, for God's sake Say you did!" t t • The man's face grew cold and hard, his eyes met heia gravely; and then he looked away out of the open doorway, down the long corridor. People were streaming out of the ballroom ; but one figure—a tall, unmistakable figure, that he recognised—came down towards them hurriedly, and alone, looking from right to left. " Did you marry Field ?" he asked quickly, turning to the woman at bis side. " Yes," she answered. There came a ltok into his face that the men who had seen him in the hour of danger and difficulty would have understood. What if the woman he loved were to learn then and there that she had married a liar ? He remembered bitterly his happiness of ten minutes before, hii triumph on this day of days. His mouth hardened. "I said it!" He spoke grimly. A cold

sweat bedewed his brow ; his face turned to nn tishen hue j lie clenched hie hands convulsively. The woman sighed, trembled, and glansed ftt him wistfully. A ilash of the old resentment sent a spot of color into herpalo cheeks. The man did not meet her eyes ugaiti. Ho turned to the figure in the doorway. " Ah, Field, looking for your wife? It is good to meet old friends ; and I have been—ei—gassing a bit. Ah, thanks, yes; it wns only luck, you know! Why, Mrs l-icld.l am making oIT with your programme." He handed it to her, but the little pencil was slipped back into his pocket. After all, he had not asked for a dance ,• and the room filled with people. As ho turned to speak to someone else, she looked from his face to her husband's. Brave men both, who could not lie; A dainty Dresden clock rang out exquisite chimes even above the murmur of talk and laughter, and struck one. " After all," thought the man of tho brave heart, 4i I have had my day : and better fellows than I stick to work without a ha'p'orth ofluok. I've expected a bit too much; but I'll take it standing! " By M. P. Hutchinson, •' The World and his Wife."