Page:James Hopper--Caybigan.djvu/343

Rh The days that followed had a taste of honey. A dreamy passiveness held him in its thrall and she was about him always like a sweet despotism.

But slowly, as he grew stronger, came the change she dreaded. A corselet of reserve drew about him; the old subtle reservation again veiled his eyes. He spoke often of going.

On the fourth day the call of a bugle drew her to the window, and a troop of cavalry was sweeping into the plaza. At its head was young Saunders. Rumours of ladrone raids reaching Bacolod had caused the sending of a detachment; it was to garrison Barang indefinitely.

She learned this from Saunders; for he called that evening and together they sat at the bedside of the wounded man. She smiled upon the young fellow a slightly malicious smile, for he seemed very much consoled indeed. Later, as he left her at the head of the stairs, he confided that the colonel's niece was now at the post, and that she was—gee!—a queen!

"Sure you won't?" he asked in smiling apology.

"Sure I won't," she answered with responsive gaiety, but reiteration of intention.

"Good-night, little mother," he said.

He came every evening after that, and the man propped up on the pillows listened with wonder to their light and impersonal prattle.