The Story Teller.

Wairoa Bell, Volume V, Issue 170, 4 November 1892, Page 7

The Story Teller.

DAPPLE

A TALE OF OLD VIRGINIA. ‘ Stop, Dapple; we must look at this/’' The scene was a green stretch of summer lawn in front of a fine old Virginia farmhouse ; the speaker, a slight, bright-faced girl, gracefully mounted on a small grey pony. The sun was dropping out of sight behind the green hills, and far away down the river bend of the Accoceek came the tramp of retreating troops, with now and then the muffled roll of a drum or the shrill bray of a bugle. Old Virginia, the queen mother of the sunny South, was overrun with soldiers, devastated with fire and sword, shaken to her very foundations by the thunders of civil war. Colonel Moreton was far away from his pleasant home, in the front ranks of death and danger; put Irene, his only daughter, braved the terrors of invasion and remained at the farmhouse with her invalid mother and a few faithfnl servants. Cantering across the ground an hour after the retreat of the invading troops something attracted the young lady's notice —a prostrate figure under the shade of a great cottonwood tree. • Stop, Dapple ; we must look to this.’ Dapple stopped, and Miss Irene leaped lightly from her saddle, and throwing the silken reins over the pony’s neck she went tripping across the grounds to the spot where the figure lay. It was a tall, soldierly figure, clad in army blue, with a pale, worn face and an abundance of curly chest nut hair. Slie looked down upon the senseless soldier with all her woman’s divine compassion stirring within her bosom. ‘ Poor fellow,’ she murmured, laying her soft hand upon his brow ; ‘ I wish I could help him.’ The soft voice and the softer touch called back the veteran’s wandering senses. He opened his eyes and looked up in the young lady’s face. Great, luminous, handsome eyes they were, that somewhat reminded Irene of her brother Tom's eyes, and Tom was down in the trenches in front of Richmond. The compassion in her heart stirred afresh ; she smoothed back the tangled curls from the soldier’s brow. ‘ My poor fellow.’ she said, ‘ can I do anything for you ?’ He struggled up to his elbow with a stifled groan. ‘ My horse threw me,’ he exclaimed, ‘and they left me behind. I think I must have fainted from the pain, I thank you very much, hut I can’t see how you can help me. I suppose I must lie here till they take me prisoner, and I would almost as soon be shot.’ Irene smiled, a smile that lighted her dark, bright face into positive beauty. ‘ I am in the enemy’s country,’ she said, ‘ hut if you will trust me I think I can help you ; at least, I will see that you are refreshed and made comfortable.’ She put her hand to her bosom and, drawing forth a tiny whistle, she put it to her lips and blew a sharp blast. Dapple pricked up his grey ears and came cantering to her side, followed instantly by a coloured man servant, ‘ You see,’ smiled Miss Irene, flashing a beaming glance on the soldier, ‘ I hold my reserve force at a moment’s warning. Here James, help this gentleman to the house and ride for Dr, Werter to dress his limb.’ James obeyed without a word, and by the time sun was fairly out of sight the Union soldier, refreshed and made comfortable, lay asleep in the best chamber of the pleasant old Southern mansion. Meanwhile on the long verandah Irene kept watch, her slight, willowy form wrapped in a scarlet mantle, her raven tresses floating on the wind. By—and-bye, as the midnight stars came out and glittered over head, above the dreamy flow of the river, above the murmur and rustic of the forest leaves, arose the clash and clang, the roar and tramp of advancing troops. Irene’s dark face flushed and her lustrous eyes dilated. She crossed the verandah with a swift step) and tapped lightly at the door of her guest’s room. 5 They are coming,’ she whispered, 1 they will take you prisoner if you remain. You must go.’ The soldier started to his feet and made his way out, but he reeled against the door,

faint and gasping for breath. ‘ I can’t walk !’ he cried. ‘There’s no hope of escape !’

But Irene held out her lithe young arm. * Yes, there is,’ she said cheerfully , Lean cn me, I can help you down, and you shall ride Dapple. He knows the river road, and you will overtake your comrades by dawn. Hurry ! There is no time to lose.’

The soldier leaned upon the brave, helpful young arm, and succeeded in reaching the lawn below.

‘ Dapple !’ the young girl called, in her clear, silver notes, ‘ come here 1’ In a breath Dapple was at her side. The g:rl stood and looked at the gentle creature, and then she threw her arms around her neck.

1 Ob, Dapple, pretty Dapple !’ she sobbed ‘it breaks my heart to part with you. Good-bye, Dapple.’ In the next breath she stood erect, her eyes flashing through a mist of tears. ‘ Come, sir,’ she said, 1 allow me to help you to mount. Dapple, take this gentleman down the river road, and at your utmost speed.’ Dapple uttered a sagacious whinny, but the soldier hesitated.

‘ Why don’t you mount, sir,’ cried the girl impatiently. ‘ Will you remain here and ruin both yourself and me ?’ He vaulted into the saddle without a word, ‘ Away, Dapple, like the wind !’ cried Irene, and the little mountain pony shot off like an arrow. # * * The war was over, and once more peace and freedom reigned over the blasted and desolate homes of Virginia. Captain Rutherford made it ins business to go back to the Potomac hills and to Colonel Moreton’s farmhouse the moment he was out of the service ; but where the stately old homestead stood he found nothing but a mass of ruins, and of Dapple’s mistress not the slightest tidings could be obtained. Three years went by, and the ex-captain found himself the wealthy heir of an old uncle, and took himself off on a tour amid the Swiss mountains. Dapple went with him, as he always did since that eventful night when the brave little pony bore him beyond the reach of the enemy. He had been the captain’s inseparable companion in all his wanderings, He was with him now, rambling over the green Tyrol valleys and climbing the Switzer steeps. One September afternoon, when the captain’s tour was drawing to a close, somewhere in the vicinity of Mount Blanc, he fell in with a travelling party from New Orleans. It consisted of Madame Lenoir, her son and two daughters, and a young American lady, who was her companion and interpreter. Captain Rutherford found madam a charming woman, and while the young persons of the party busied themselves in spreading out a collation under the trees he lay amid the long, rustling grasses, listening to madam’s pretty feminine chatter, and in his turn related incidents and reminiscences of his war experience for her edification. Among other things he told ber of Dapple and of his midnight ride among the blue hills of old Virginia. ‘ And die gallant litde pony carried you safely through !’ she cried with beaming eyes. ‘ Safely through, madam, with the enemy at my very heels,’ replied the captain. ‘ Miss Moreton,’ cried madam, ‘ will you have the kindness to pass tne claret cup ? And pray, Captain Rutherford, what ever became of little Dapple ?’ The captain raised himself to a sitting posture. ‘ Dapple ! Dapple !’ he called, ‘ come to me S’ From the forest shadows near at hand a small grey pony fame rambling forth. Madame Lenoir’s companion, advancing with the claret cup in her slim white hand, uttered a sharp little cry, and wasted all the luscious liquor on the rustling leaves at her feet,

‘Oh, Dapple, Dapple!’ she cried. Dapple heard the sweet voice and knew it in an instant. He broke into a joyous neigh and shot like an arrow to the young lady’s side. She caught his shaggy head and held it close to her bosom, sobbing like the silly child she was- ‘ Oh, Dapple, my pretty Dapple, have I found you at last V Madame Lenoir, comprehending the

denouement, looked on with glistening eyes’ Two weeks later the pleasant party was breaking up, Madame and her party were going back to France.

1 And now, Irene,’ said the captain, ‘ how is it to be? Will you not listen to my suit or accept my life ? Then you will be forced to part from Dapple again. She is mine by the right of possession. I cannot give her up. Come, now, give your final decision—are you willing to part from me and Dapple for ever ?’

Irene looked up with her old glorifying smile.

‘ I could bear to part with you,’ she said wickedly, ‘ but never again from Da]iple. If you take Dapple you will have to take her mistress, too, Captain Rutherford, And the captain made no objection. A month later saw Dapple’s mistress his wife.