 | CHAPTER IV. Tiger-lilies |  |
4. CHAPTER IV.
A glimpse of joy that we have met shall shine and dry the tear.”
Quoted by Charles Lamb.
In a battle, as far as concerns the individual combatants,
the laws and observances of civilization are abandoned,
and primitive barbarism is king pro tem. To
kill as many as possible; — this, at the actual shock of
arms, is the whole duty of man. If indeed there be
generals of genius managing the thing behind the lines,
it is not less barbarism, but only more powerful barbarism;
it is genius manœuvring the interests of brute
strength; it is Apollo tending swine.
When the battle is over, to emerge from this temporary
barbarism is difficult and requires a little time.
Kind Heaven! To see a beautiful woman, to hear her
soft tones of voice, to say pleasant things to her, seems
so strange, just after you have uttered those strange,
hoarse cries that men do utter, not knowing why, in
battle; — just after you have killed a man, and perhaps
felt the sickening warmth of his blood, and turned
away from the terrible odor that rises like a curse from
the wound. The young men were all moody, and, in
spite of their exertions to appear unconstrained, continually
relapsed into a half-sullen silence, as they sat
at Mrs. Parven's elaborate dinner.
Dinner? So. They had poured some brandy into
the mouth of old Mr. Parven, he had recovered, and,
though he could not speak, had smiled to the good wife
at his bedside to reassure her. Lighter of heart, Mrs.
Parven had instinctively bent herself to hospitable
deeds, had assembled her dusky handmaidens, had
bustled up-stairs and down-stairs and in the kitchen,
had removed the wreck of furniture, had restored order
out of chaos, had, in short, issued commands whose
multitude made Napoleon's feat of three thousand despatches
in an hour sink into pale insignificance.
While they were shaking hands, before mounting to
pursue their journey, a mournful tone pervaded the
forced liveliness of the young men's congratulations to
Mrs. Parven upon the good fate which had brought
them up in time to save the house. And even while
good Mrs. P. was calling out, in her loud, hearty voice,
to the scouts, inviting them to ride up frequently and
dine with her, she was saying to herself, “God help
us! It is but the beginning of the raids; next time, the
raiders will be more infuriated, and we may have no
friends at hand. God help us!”
And Rebecca, smiling upon Aubrey as he rode away,
was moved by those timid apprehensions which love
creates in tender hearts, and said to herself, over and
over again, “When will I ever see him again?”
| CHAPTER IV. Tiger-lilies | |