THE BARRIER OF CASTE.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume L, Issue 61, 12 October 1907, Page 4

THE BARRIER OF CASTE.

A BKIEF,MILITARY ROMANCE. He had read dime-novels, had Saunders. He had read them as a boy in sN'ew iork. in the afternoons, as he came home from school, he had bought them from some street-corner vendor ot "penny dreadfuls," and had gloated over them as only a small boy, born and bred in a great city, can gloat over tales of the West. He had 'not been discriminating ol course, and he had had a natural leaning towards the most blood-curdling recitals; but he had chosen always something in some way connected with army life. The army to him was a beautiful dream, a highly varnished picture, and to be part of it—a major part of course, something like a general or at the veryleast a colonel—had been from the first his one ambition. But destiny, in the shape of parents of stern and old-fash-ioned mould, the kind that thought and accepted it as a convenient creed that, having inflicted life upon their offspring, they entirely at liberty to ruin that life—this destiny ordained that he should have a profession other than that of arms; in short, that he should lie a lawyer. *

Now Saunders was of an age to judge for himself, and he knew that he was not of the stuff of which lawyers are made. Not the slightest vestige of elocpienee had he; he was blunt and truthful to a degree, lie disliked a lie for I its own sake. All this and more he told ! his parents, but it was answered by the logic which had retarded the world's progress through so many generations, that they were older and therefore wiser, that he was their son and they knew better what was good for Mm than he could possibly. Saunde'-. i-.ire from a sense of duty than a f».u- ,\ ',-. ing -lisinherited of'his fath- 5 >.v.l estates, accepted their decision in,! v gan the reading of law. About this time he chose for chum .1 youth whose only possible recommendation must have been that he could boast of army relatives. He had visited in his sallow-gosling days at a garrison, and was full of highly spiced (ales regarding the wild daring and fascination of a soldier's life. Saunders would drink in all Ihe.se stories, and despite his valiant efforts to forget them and put temptation away, they would come back to him as he sat over the inexpressibly stupid folios relating to the law.

One summer, this chum of his invited Saunders to visit him at his countryhouse on the Hudson. Saunders went and spent the happiest two weeks of his life. For it was there that he met Madge Ivean, the bewitching little daughter ol Colonel Kcan, of the Tenth. Saunders caught his iirst glimpse of her as he walked with young Milton up the driveway. Madge was armed with a Flohcrt rille, and was teaching the little son of the house how to aim and pull the trigger. There was in her very poise, in the fact of her knowing how to shoot, that appealed to Saunders at once. He could not see her face, hut, nevertheless, he said to Milton that she was a "mighty pretty girl." Milton replied with pardonable pride that the young lady was his cousiu, and just come from the Far West, was of the army, and a "darned pretty little flirt." Therefore, before Saunders had ever been introduced to the fair Madge, he was perilously near to being in love.

When he, stood beside her, and Milton was saying "This is my chum Saunders, .Madge; Miss Kean, Saunders,'' when her bright eyes glanced at him from under her long lashes—just like an untamed mustang's, as Saunders mentally commented—when she smiled and put out a hand all smutty with powder, Saunders thought her the most bewitching young woman he had ever seen. And Madge, iu her turn, made note of the fact that Saunders was tall, blonde, and extremely handsome, with that unmistakable air of self-possession and refinement of a New York gentleman. She determined that he would be much better material to expend her iV-einatiuns on than that milk-sop of a cousin of hers. She was glad he had come, and said so. Saunders answered, in a tone which carried conviction, that he also was glad he had come, and Madge blushed throiurh one of those clear, tanned skins which change color with every emotion. Not that she was shy and" scbool'girlish in her blushes; they were not a result of timidity. Cupid did not hit Saunders' heart with the traditional golden arrow this time. It was the tiny bullets of lead which went from the muzzle of the Flobert straight to the bull's-eye of I >. target that made the wounds which ;,v inflicted soouer or later on every mum. By the time the wee cartridge-box was empty, Saunders was hopelessly smitten. In the course of the next fortnight lie came to that point where he would even have studied law with pleasure had she expressed an admiration for law students. Hut she ilid not. lie had confided lo her all his baffled ambitions; had told her how his soul yearned for shoulder-straps; and she, in turn, told him that the life «if a soldier was (lie uiily one worth living, lie was too old for West Point; why didn't lie try for a civil appointment? This had never occurred to him; he would think it over, lie asked her sonic i|uestions, and confided some of his ideas of garrison life to her. She laughed at them, and told him that he was a "dear old lenderfoot," If it had not been for the t.me of voice in which she said it. for '■,[>? roguish, half-fond glance f■ >:i: ~'•;■ :>w--tang eyes, Saunders y ,-.ii. .. ~ ~.,

terribly cut up over . : • "' ■: word. "Tenderfoot--tendo •■" .-,<•: nflcr all he had read on te* subject. Could it be that his .source or information was bad? He did not ask Madge this, however; he never put forth any of his ideas again on the subject to her: asked for no further information; he knew he was miss-in'.* -.'olden opportunities for enlightenment, but lie did not care to lie laughed at. He was aware that nothing wonld so much injure him in her eyes as to make himself ridiculous. And Madge in that fortnight exerted, first, every charm she possessed, every power she could command, to bring him to her feel.

Having succeeded in this, she used unite as much skill in keeping him from asking her to marry him. She didn't want to be married, slie didu't even -ivanl

to be engaged, and lie was only the pastime of a summer's jaunt. Nobody took such llirtatioiis seriously, that is, nobody with any sense. If lie couldn't see that she was in fun, it wasn't her fault, was it? She wasn't accountable for his being deficient in powers of perception, was she? A Xew York man ought to know how to lake care or' .liniself,

Well, the little summer play was over, Saunders went back to town with the secret determination to cut loose from, the grind of the law-reading to go into the army. He had not told Madge of this; somehow, looking back on it, he hadn't told her anything that he had meant to; he had been half afraid that she would laugh. It would never do to have her laugh, Of course there wi i ■'• .; row at his home when he aunoiric d bis determination. But the bretiili ■• free air that he had drawn in from contact with Madge made him see I hat he should have something to say in the matter of his own career. Morcoscr, he had the strength of love to uphold him. lie surprised his parent;,' by asserting his' freedom of action; and when they made it too disagreeable, fur his self-respect to allow him to ntny under their roof, he left it, with pal'' i rial and maternal maledictions following Mm. He started in to obtain a rii'il appointment and learned more, bet'oi e he realised his failure, of the nature of human beings and of the struggle J'or existence than he had ever known before. It came about that he obtained no civil appointment, and he know thai his father had done his best, covertly, Hint he should not obtain it. This one thing he could not forgive. Meantime, lie longed for Madge with the whole power of his heart. He wrote to her and received no reply. So he supposed thai she had not got his letter. The thought that she had ignored him did not eonie to him. The final refusal of a commission was a blow from which h i did not recover for some days—ho lost he:!.| for-a time; but he read in an. Arm , nud Navy that Miss Kean had useo icsperatoly ill. That afternoon he. edified as a private soldier, and the next morning wore the blue. " '•''"'7 •/ r

This was not being a colonel or a general, but men had risen from the ranks to sudden fame and honor in the books he had read; besides, he was at his last penny. A little wave of disgust ran over him as he learned that thirteen dollars a month, with clothing, bed, and board, would be his share of this world's goods. He enlisted with that vague notion, which the average citizen of that day had, that officers and men inhabited peacefully the same quarters; that the barrack-room was a sort of happy family cage, where .• ■. ' dor straps and chevrons went shir ..

side. He had not stopped to lh>,l *l the West was wide and that iv ■• '<■;»'■ be assigned to a post several t'l n ni.d miles frofn the one which his hi.-:-, v.i ' lighted with her presence. It •>■>{<. not until the deed was done that, lids came to him, and then he could only .',r/,r; and pray.

As luck would have it l;< ,'.a» sent to the very post where ',r.l-. kcl Kean was stationed. This di'l o<i', exactly surprise him; he took ii. ,i n matter of course that Providenc-fi .ji.v;M interfere in behalf of a Saundf;u of one of the handsomest and most |.',|ml,.i' fellows in his set. He wondered ivlr.l his friends at home thought of his wr-apade. Then he settled down to Hie discomforts of his second-class accommodation in a railway car. Fortunately for him, the garrison to which he was ordered happened to he very mar to the railroad, and he was sparvd ,-> cross-country trip of a hundred or l.wf miles. ' Words cannot point the, miseries that Saunders wen 1 ; 11,,.;-/!). 'fh C y were not physical ims'iAv i',r he was well-fed, well-shelter* 'i clothed, not overworked, am! . j.aif.d the humiliation and pain .;■ ~; - l V recruit who learns for the .'ii,: - . ' ul bestride a barelacked / f-'auuders was an old hand a„ / l: jSe , and had little to learn, save iJu : -. technicalities. But he found that the Jine which divided officers and men was as the line which divided Lazarus in heaven from, the man in hell; that beyond a salute and a conversation thickly sprinkled with respectful "sirs" and "very good, sirs," on the part of the private, and with crisp orders and sometimes oaths from the officer, there was no speech. He did not even see Madge for three days, but was induced to overcome his determination to call upon her. He saw within an hour after he had steplied upon the reservation that he would hardly lie welcome. It was bad enougli not to be able to see his divinity; ; t was infinitely worse when at last, ho met licr. She gave a great gasp and I start, blushed, and returned his bow with just the slightest nod and condescending smile. T \: saw, with dismay, that he was I hj: v simply a menial—[hat he could i ; (I;.re to overstep the me which ibvi■!.■! tl.im.

!.' got over hi; de-ire to shoot him-, .. < cry time It c.as given an order ■ \ hi.i hearing, aii\c a while. He wali .. '•.":■ 'lirlntiuin with a gorgeous first liwUL-i; it. in Villi'iiioss of spirit, and the the:.,, i; dawned npuii him that she was not i. '.>~; but hi hoped she would leave uio .'u i 'a m• ''Mil when he (Saunders) sltoii.-i 'i.:w rti'ti his spurs, Hut even the v"- i'' l :l u| lar away; lie had come to \ii.i' - n that the jump from the uniluru ■-'• ai* e'llislcd jnan into tliat of au olii. i ' ■ •'> dilhuilt leal, or was in those da.) s i v : n. ihauce i».i physical prowess pi'. ■■' .1 - ; 'ei;. Hu, ally lie was as unite i o >.( mi.. love can be. He wou'.' '■; . » self had he not been a,v . Liian to carry a stand I I i mouth did it take for ' ; i"

party, the back yards <u Mir. ,>,, quarters. To "police" is :..i,.iy ,\tu. up, and it is left, as i. iji.u'iu! thii. OI to the prisoners who I; /je lo be u\ the guardhouse. But at I'd I im there were very few.prisoner, > n than one or two, for the men . 1.11 njion their good behavior, it ',.; i two months since the payma.i.' t wsu, and no cash left to bo .1 , -011 whisky at the sutler's. , ..furs sallied forth in fatigue „«u— overalls, and coat of canvas—and he helped the others to sweep with stable-brooms and to shovel up in the back-yards. lu the colouel's yard he was mercifully spared meeting Madge—it would have been, he felt, the last straw—and he did not know that from behind her filmy curtain she was watching him with amusement and pity, the while she turned about on her third linger of her lelt baud a large solitaire ring and wondered what he would say when he should hear of her approaching marriage to the dashing lieutenant. 'then the police party went on its way, and came at last to the yard of that very lieutenant. There was a halfsheet of notepaper in one of the piles of dust and rubbish which had been swept up. Saunders noticed it—noticed, though it was crumpled, that the writing upon it was Madge's pointed scrawl. He picked it up and slipped it into his pocket, it was not an honest thing to do, but he did not stop to think—ne only wondered what a note of hers was doing in this man's back-yard and what was iu it. When he got back to the barracks, lie read the note There was enough therein to make him understand that Madge his Madge—for whom he had given up everything, for whom he had endured so much humiliation, was to be married in one week to the first lieutenant; that she was in love—desperately iu love—ivith him, and did not hesitate to say

Was the man in love with her? if •u wis why did he crumple up and ih:".u awav a note for which Saunders would 'lave given his very soul? Then >ainu!er.- looked about him with eyes opi-'.u \; Ji'suair. He saw at last the baii'h': .>. •-■-' ''- »" Hs height and strength; •■ ■''•■ "at he had dime and shudderc ' ■■ we but

two ivays out of this, c '.. 'wl'le.l until his enlistment wao ■ . i • a half more years; and tna. ■ not do. He could kill himseit, oa.

was young, remember, it was not •. lo be done; and—he could desert, i. his mind a deserter was not >vbr;

to a man wdio has been '.unv n uih ~i : -: vice—all the disgrace o: i*; .'lid no" :■: cur to him. if -■: .r.ui :.'.''ii s .•:-.• : a in.v: n ; him, '.:■ ■■:,-:/. not inv: ,rr;:s;;..: tue fun : i:::' ••■ -;' .'. ;r. j« waited his chance ;.. ■ ~nd then "bolted," as his

•!•;-..■.- icrmcd it. He went away i"'->in ihc railway, thinking it would put tliorfc who would be sent after him oil' the scent, and after a day or two circle round to reach the iron road which woulil lead him far from all this. On the third day he trudged onward

to tlie railway, dodging, like a hunted criminal, behind every clump of mesquite or greasowood, starting at every prairie-dog's bark, he was overtaken, his hands tied behind him, and marched back to the post under guard,

At a turn in the road the party drew aside and waited for an ambulance to pass. The soldiers saluted theotlicei' inside. .

Saunders could not salute, his hands Wi'ro lied. ITe knew the oflircr—it, wis the first lieutenant; he was going to the station with his bride. Madge looked out and saw the deserter—saw him and turned her toad,