Girl at the Halfway House

Emerson Hough

Description

Born in Iowa, Emerson Hough moved to a frontier town in New Mexico to practice law after finishing his schooling. Over time, his focus shifted to journalism and eventually to fiction. Like many of his novels, The Girl at the Halfway House skillfully combines romance, battlefield action, and an enduring appreciation for America's wide open spaces.

Sujets

• Historical fiction

Informations

• Publié par: The Floating Press
• Date de parution: 01 février 2017
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781776676538
• Langue: English

Extrait

THE GIRL AT THE HALFWAY HOUSE
A STORY OF THE PLAINS
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EMERSON HOUGH
 
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The Girl at the Halfway House A Story of the Plains First published in 1900 Epub ISBN 978-1-77667-653-8 Also available: PDF ISBN 978-1-77667-654-5 © 2015 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
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BOOK I - THE DAY OF WAR Chapter I - The Brazen Tongues Chapter II - The Players of the Game Chapter III - The Victory BOOK II - THE DAY OF THE BUFFALO Chapter IV - Battersleigh of the Rile Irish Chapter V - The Turning of the Road Chapter VI - Edward Franklin, Lawyer Chapter VII - The New World Chapter VIII - The Beginning Chapter IX - The New Movers Chapter X - The Chase Chapter XI - The Battle Chapter XII - What the Hand Had to Do Chapter XIII - Pie and Ethics Chapter XIV - The First Ball at Ellisville Chapter XV - Another Day Chapter XVI - Another Hour BOOK III - THE DAY OF THE CATTLE Chapter XVII - Ellisville the Red Chapter XVIII - Still a Rebel Chapter XIX - That Which He Would Chapter XX - The Halfway House Chapter XXI - The Advice of Aunt Lucy Chapter XXII - En Voyage Chapter XXIII - Mary Ellen Chapter XXIV - The Way of a Maid Chapter XXV - Bill Watson Chapter XXVI - Ike Anderson Chapter XXVII - The Body of the Crime Chapter XXVIII - The Trial Chapter XXIX - The Verdict BOOK IV - THE DAY OF THE PLOUGH Chapter XXX - The End of the Trail Chapter XXXI - The Success of Battersleigh Chapter XXXII - The Calling Chapter XXXIII - The Great Cold Chapter XXXIV - The Artfulness of Sam Chapter XXXV - The Hill of Dreams Chapter XXXVI - At the Gateway Endnotes
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TO EDWARD KEMEYS,
SOLDIER, HUNTER, AND SCULPTOR,
WHO KNEW AND LOVED THE WEST,
AND WHO HAS PRESERVED ITS SPIRIT IMPERISHABLY,
THIS BOOK IS INSCRIBED WITH MANY GRATEFUL ACKNOWLEDGMENTS.
BOOK I - THE DAY OF WAR
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Chapter I - The Brazen Tongues
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The band major was a poet. His name is lost to history, but itdeserves a place among the titles of the great. Only in the soul of apoet, a great man, could there have been conceived that thought bywhich the music of triumph should pass the little pinnacle of humanexultation, and reach the higher plane of human sympathy.
Forty black horses, keeping step; forty trumpeters, keeping unison;this procession, headed by a mere musician, who none the less was apoet, a great man, crossed the field of Louisburg as it lay dotted withthe heaps of slain, and dotted also with the groups of those who soughttheir slain; crossed that field of woe, meeting only hatred anddespair, yet leaving behind only tears and grief. Tears and grief, itis true, yet grief that knew of sympathy, and tears that recked ofother tears.
For a long time the lines of invasion had tightened about the old cityof Louisburg, and Louisburg grew weaker in the coil. When the clank ofthe Southern cavalry advancing to the front rang in the streets, manywere the men swept away with the troops asked to go forward to silencethe eternally throbbing guns. Only the very old and the very youngwere left to care for the homes of Louisburg, and the number of thesegrew steadily less as the need increased for more material at thefront. Then came the Southern infantry, lean, soft-stepping men fromGeorgia and the Carolinas, their long black hair low on their necks,their shoes but tattered bits of leather bound upon their feet, theirblankets made of cotton, but their rifles shining and their drillperfection. The wheat lay green upon the fields and the odours of theblossoms of the peach trees hung heavy on the air; but there was nonewho thought of fruitage or of harvest. Out there in front, where theguns were pulsing, there went on that grimmer harvest with which thesouls of all were intimately concerned. The boys who threw up theirhats to greet the infantry were fewer than they had been before theblossoming of the peach. The war had grown less particular of itsfood. A boy could speed a bullet, or could stop one. There were yetthe boys.
Of all the old-time families of this ancient little city none heldposition more secure or more willingly accorded than the Fairfaxes andthe Beauchamps. There had always been a Colonel Fairfax, the leader atthe local bar, perhaps the representative in the Legislature, or insome position of yet higher trust. The Beauchamps had always had menin the ranks of the professions or in stations of responsibility. Theyheld large lands, and in the almost feudal creed of the times they gavelarge services in return. The curse of politics had not yet reachedthis land of born politicians. Quietly, smoothly, yet withal keyed toa high standard of living, the ways of this old community, as of thesetwo representative families, went on with little change from generationto generation.
It was not unknown that these two families should intermarry, a Fairfaxfinding a wife among the Beauchamps, or perchance a Beauchamp coming tothe Fairfax home to find a mistress for his own household. It wasconsidered a matter of course that young Henry Fairfax, son of ColonelFairfax, should, after completing his studies at the ancientinstitution of William and Mary College, step into his father's lawoffice, eventually to be admitted to the bar and to become his father'spartner; after which he should marry Miss Ellen Beauchamp, loveliestdaughter of a family noted for its beautiful women. So much was thistaken for granted, and so fully did it meet the approval of bothfamilies, that the tide of the young people's plans ran on with littleto disturb its current. With the gallantry of their class the youngmen of the plantations round about, the young men of the fastidiouslybest, rode in to ask permission of Mary Ellen's father to pay court tohis daughter. One by one they came, and one by one they rode awayagain, but of them all not one remained other than Mary Ellen's loyalslave. Her refusal seemed to have so much reason that eachdisappointed suitor felt his own defeat quite stingless. Young Fairfaxseemed so perfectly to represent the traditions of his family, and hisfuture seemed so secure; and Mary Ellen herself, tall and slender,bound to be stately and of noble grace, seemed so eminently fit to be aBeauchamp beauty and a Fairfax bride.
For the young people themselves it may be doubted if there had yetawakened the passion of genuine, personal love. They met, but, underthe strict code of that land and time, they never met alone. They rodetogether under the trees along the winding country roads, but neverwithout the presence of some older relative whose supervision wasconventional if careless. They met under the honeysuckles on thegallery of the Beauchamp home, where the air was sweet with thefragrance of the near-by orchards, but with correct gallantry HenryFairfax paid his court rather to the mother than to the daughter. Thehands of the lovers had touched, their eyes had momentarilyencountered, but their lips had never met. Over the young girl's soulthere sat still the unbroken mystery of life; nor had the reverentdevotion of the boy yet learned love's iconoclasm.
For two years Colonel Fairfax had been with his regiment, fighting forwhat he considered the welfare of his country and for the institutionsin whose justice he had been taught to believe. There remained at theold Fairfax home in Louisburg only the wife of Colonel Fairfax and theson Henry, the latter chafing at a part which seemed to him soobviously ignoble. One by one his comrades, even younger than himself,departed and joined the army hastening forward toward the throbbingguns. Spirited and proud, restive under comparisons which he had neverheard but always dreaded to hear. Henry Fairfax begged his mother tolet him go, though still she said, "Not yet."
But the lines of the enemy tightened ever about Louisburg. Then came aday—a fatal day—fraught with the tidings of what seemed a doubledeath. The wife of Colonel Henry Fairfax was grande dame that day,when she buried her husband and sent away her son. There were yettraditions to support.
Henry Fairfax said good-bye to Mary Ellen upon the gallery of the oldhome, beneath a solemn, white-faced moon, amid the odours of thedrooping honeysuckle. Had Mary Ellen's eyes not been hid beneath thelids they might have seen a face pale and sad as her own. They satsilent, for it was no time for human speech. The hour came forparting, and he rose. His lips just lightly touched her cheek. Itseemed to him he heard a faint "good-bye." He stepped slowly down thelong walk in the moonlight, and his hand was at his face. Turning atthe gate for the last wrench of separation, he gazed back at a droopingform upon the gallery. Then Mrs. Beauchamp came and took Ellen's headupon her bosom, seeing that now she was a woman, and that hersufferings had begun.
Chapter II - The Players of the Game
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When the band major was twenty miles away in front of Louisburg histrumpets sounded always the advance. The general played the gamecalmly. The line of the march was to be along the main road leadinginto the town. With this course determined, the general massed hisreserves, sent on the column of assault, halted at the edge of thewood, deployed his skirmishers, advanced them, withdrew them, retreatedbut advanced again, ever irresistibly sweeping the board in toward thebase of Louisburg, knight meeting knight, pawn meeting pawn, each sidegiving and taking pieces on the red board of war.
The main intrenchments erected in the defences of Louisburg lay atright angles to the road along which