Active Service by Stephen Crane (reading tree .TXT) 📕

The South. The Greeks In the Coffee Room Were,  Of

Course,  Talking.

At Last Coleman Did Hear The Sound Of Hoofs And

Wheels. The Three Carriages Swept Up In grand Procession.

The First Was Laden With Students ; In the

Second Was The Professor,  The Greek Officer,  Nora

Black'S Old Lady And Other Persons,  All Looking marvellously

Unimportant And Shelved. It Was The Third

Carriage At Which Coleman Stared. At First Be

Thought The Dim Light Deceived his Vision,  But In a

Moment He Knew That His First Leaping conception Of

The Arrangement Of The People In this Vehicle Had

Been Perfectly Correct. Nora Black And Mrs. Wainwright

Sat Side By Side On The Back Seat,  While Facing

Them Were Coke And Marjory.

They Looked cold But Intimate.

The Oddity Of The Grouping stupefied coleman. It

Was Anarchy,  Naked and Unashamed. He Could Not

Imagine How Such Changes Could Have Been Consummated

In The Short Time He Had Been Away From Them,

But He Laid It All To Some Startling necromancy On The

Part Of Nora Black,  Some Wondrous Play Which Had

Captured them All Because Of Its Surpassing skill And

Because They Were,  In the Main,  Rather Gullible People.

He Was Wrong. The Magic Had Been Wrought

By The Unaided foolishness Of Mrs. Wainwfight. As

Soon As Nora Black Had Succeeded in creating an

Effect Of Intimacy And Dependence Between Herself

And Coleman,  The Professor Had Flatly Stated to His

Wife That The Presence Of Nora Black In the Party,  In

The Inn,  In the World,  Was A Thiag That Did Not Meet

His Approval In any Way. She Should Be Abolished.

As For Coleman,  He Would Not Defend Him. He Preferred

Not To Talk To Him. It Made Him Sad. Coleman At

Least Had Been Very Indiscreet,  Very Indiscreet.

It Was A Great Pity. But As For This Blatant Woman,

The Sooner They Rid Themselves Of Her,  The Sooner He

Would Feel That All The World Was Not Evil.

Whereupon Mrs. Wainwright Had Changed front

With The Speed of Light And Attacked with Horse,  Foot

And Guns. She Failed to See,  She Had Declared,  Where

This Poor,  Lone Girt Was In great Fault. Of Course It

Was Probable That She Had Listened to This Snaky.

Tongued rufus Coleman,  But That Was Ever The Mistake

That Women Made. Oh,  Certainly ; The Professor

Would Like To Let Rufus Coleman Off Scot-Free. That

Was The Way With Men. They Defended each Other In

All Cases. If Wrong Were Done It Was The Woman Who

Suffered. Now,  Since This Poor Girl Was Alone Far Off

Here In greece,  Mrs. Wainwright Announced that She

Had Such Full Sense Of Her Duty To Her Sex That Her

Conscience Would Not Allow Her To Scorn And Desert A

Sister,  Even If That Sister Was,  Approximately,  The Victim

Of A Creature Like Rufus Coleman. Perhaps The

Poor Thing loved this Wretched man,  Although It Was

Hard To Imagine Any Woman Giving her Heart To Such.

A Monster.

The Professor Had Then Asked with Considerable

Spirit For The Proofs Upon Which Mrs. Wainwright

Named coleman A Monster,  And Had Made A Wry Face

Over Her Completely Conventional Reply. He Had Told

Her Categorically His Opinion Of Her Erudition In such

Matters.

But Mrs. Wainwright Was Not To Be Deterred from

An Exciting espousal Of The Cause Of Her Sex. Upon

The Instant That The Professor Strenuously Opposed her

She Becamean Apostle,  An Enlightened,  Uplifted apostle

To The World On The Wrongs Of Her Sex. She Had

Come Down With This Thing as If It Were A Disease.

Nothing could Stop Her. Her Husband,  Her Daughter,

All Influences In other Directions,  Had Been Overturned

With A Roar,  And The First Thing fully Clear To The Professor'S

Mind Had Been That His Wife Was Riding affably

In The Carriage With Nora Black.

Coleman Aroused when He Heard One Of The Students

Cry Out: " Why,  There Is Rufus Coleman'S Dragoman.

He Must Be Here." A Moment Later They Thronged

Upon Him. " Hi,  Old Man,  Caught You Again! Where

Did You Break To? Glad To Catch You,  Old Boy. How

Are You Making it? Where'S Your Horse?"

" Sent The Horses On To,  Athens," Said Coleman.

He Had Not Yet Recovered his Composure,  And He Was

Glad To Find Available This Commonplace Return To Their

Exuberant Greetings And Questions. " Sent Them On To

Athens With The Groom."

In The Mean Time The Engine Of The Little Train Was

Screaming to Heaven That Its Intention Of Starting was

Most Serious. The Diligencia Careered to The Station

Platform And Unburdened. Coleman Had Had His

Dragoman Place His Luggage In a Little First-Class Carriage

And He Defiantly Entered it And Closed the Door.

He Had A Sudden Return To The Old Sense Of Downfall,

And With It Came The Original Rebellious Desires. However,

He Hoped that Somebody Would Intrude Upon

Him.

It Was Peter Tounley. The Student Flung Open The

Door And Then Yelled to The Distance : " Here'S An

Empty One." He Clattered into The Compartment.

" Hello,  Coleman! Didn'T Know You Were In here! "

At His Heels Came Nora Black,  Coke And Marjory.

" Oh! " They Said,  When They Saw The Occupant Of The

Carriage. " Oh ! " Coleman Was Furious. He Could

Have Distributed some Of His Traps In a Way To Create

More Room,  But He Did Not Move.

There Was A Demonstration Of The Unequalled facilities

Of A European Railway Carriage For Rendering

Unpleasant Things Almost Intolerable. These People

Could Find No Way To Alleviate The Poignancy Of Their

Position. Coleman Did Not Know Where To Look.

Every Personal Mannerism Becomes Accentuated in a

European Railway Carriage. If You Glance At A Man,

Your Glance Defines Itself As A Stare. If You Carefully

Look At Nothing,  You Create For Yourself A Resemblance

To All Wooden-Headed things. A Newspaper Is,  Then,  In

The Nature Of A Preservative,  And Coleman Longed for

A Newspaper.

It Was This Abominable Railway Carriage Which

Exacted the First Display Of Agitation From Marjory.

She Flushed rosily,  And Her Eyes Wavered over The

Cornpartment. Nora Black Laughed in a Way That

Was A Shock To The Nerves. Coke Seemed very Angry,

Indeed,  And Peter Tounley Was In pitiful Distress.

Everything was Acutely,  Painfully Vivid,  Bald,  Painted

As Glaringly As A Grocer'S New Wagon. It Fulfilled

Those Traditions Which The Artists Deplore When They

Use Their Pet Phrase On A Picture,  "It Hurts." The

Damnable Power Of Accentuation Of The European

Railway Carriage Seemed,  To Coleman'S Amazed mind,

To Be Redoubled and Redoubled.

It Was Peter Tounley Who Seemed to Be In the Greatest

Agony. He Looked at The Correspondent Beseechingly

And Said: "It'S A Very Cold Morning,  Coleman."

This Was An Actual Appeal In the Name Of Humanity.

Coleman Came Squarely. To The Front And Even

Grinned a Little At Poor Peter Tounley'S Misery.

"Yes,  It Is A Cold Morning,  Peter. I Should Say It To

One Of The Coldest Mornings In my Recollection."

Peter Tounley Had Not Intended a Typical American

Emphasis On The Polar Conditions Which Obtained

In The Compartment At This Time,  But Coleman Had

Given The Word This Meaning. Spontaneously Every

Body Smiled,  And At Once The Tension Was Relieved.

But Of Course The Satanic Powers Of The Railway Carriage

Could Not Be Altogether Set At Naught. Of Course

It Fell To The Lot Of Coke To Get The Seat Directly In

Front Of Coleman,  And Thus,  Face To Face,  They Were

Doomed to Stare At Each Other.

Peter Tounley Was Inspired to Begin Conventional

Babble,  In which He Took Great Care To Make An Appear.

Ance Of Talking to All In the Carriage. " Funny Thing

I Never Knew These Mornings In greece Were So Cold.

I Thought The Climate Here Was Quite Tropical. It

Must Have Been Inconvenient In the Ancient Times,

When,  I Am Told,  People Didn'T Wear Near So Many-

Er-Clothes. Really,  I Don'T See How They Stood It.

For My Part,  I Would Like Nothing so Much As A Buffalo

Robe. I Suppose When Those Great Sculptors Were Doing

Their Masterpieces,  They Had To Wear Gloves.

Ever Think Of That? Funny,  Isn'T It? Aren'T You

Cold,  Marjory ? I Am. Jingo! Imagine The Spartans

In Ulsters,  Going out To Meet An Enemy In cape-Overcoats,

And Being desired by Their Mothers To Return

With Their Ulsters Or Wrapped in them."

It Was Rather Hard Work For Peter Tounley. Both

Marjory And Coleman Tried to Display An Interest In

His Labours,  And They Laughed not At What He Said,  But

Because They Believed it Assisted him. The Little Train,

Meanwhile,  Wandered up A Great Green Slope,  And The

Day Rapidly Coloured the Land.

At First Nora Black Did Not Display A Militant Mood,

But As Time Passed coleman Saw Clearly That She Was

Considering the Advisability Of A New Attack. She Had

Coleman And Marjory In conjunction And Where They

Were Unable To Escape From Her. The Opportunities

Were Great. To Coleman,  She Seemed to Be Gloating

Over The Possibilities Of Making more Mischief. She

Was Looking at Him Speculatively,  As If Considering the

Best Place To Hit Him First. Presently She Drawled :

" Rufus,  I Wish You Would Fix My Rug About Me A Little

Better." Coleman Saw That This Was A Beginning.

Peter Tounley Sprang To His Feet With Speed and En-

Thusiasm. " Oh,  Let Me Do It For You." He Had Her

Well Muffled in the Rug Before She Could Protest,  Even

If A Protest Had Been Rational. The Young Man Had

No Idea Of Defending coleman. He Had No Knowledge

Of The Necessity For It. It Had Been Merely The Exercise

Of His Habit Of Amiability,  His Chronic Desire To

See Everybody Comfortable. His Passion In this Direction

Was Well Known In washurst,  Where The Students

Had Borrowed a Phrase From The Photographers In order

To Describe Him Fully In a Nickname. They Called

Him " Look-Pleasant Tounley." This Did Not In any

Way Antagonise His Perfect Willingness To Fight On

Occasions With A Singular Desperation,  Which Usually

Has A Small Stool In every Mind Where Good Nature Has

A Throne.

" Oh,  Thank You Very Much,  Mr. Tounley," Said

Nora Black,  Without Gratitude. " Rufus Is Always So

Lax In these Matters."

"I Don'T Know How You Know It," Said Coleman

Boldly,  And He Looked her Fearlessly In the Eye. The

Battle Had Begun.

" Oh," Responded nora,  Airily,  " I Have Had Opportunity

Enough To Know It,  I Should Think,  By This

Time."

" No," Said Coleman,  " Since I Have Never Paid You

Particular And Direct Attention,  You Cannot Possibly

Know What I Am Lax In and What I Am Not Lax In. I

Would Be Obliged to Be Of Service At Any Time,  Nora,

But Surely You Do Not Consider That You Have A Right

To My Services Superior To Any Other Right."

Nora Black Simply Went Mad,  But Fortunately Part

Of Her Madness Was In the Form Of Speechlessness.

Otherwise There Might Have Been Heard Something

Approaching to Billingsgate.

Marjory And Peter Tounley Turned first Hot And Then

Cold,  And Looked as If They Wanted to Fly Away; And

Even Coke,  Penned helplessly In with This Unpleasant

Incident,  Seemed to Have A Sudden Attack Of Distress.

The Only Frigid Person Was Coleman. He Had Made

His Declaration Of Independence,  And He Saw With Glee

That The Victory Was Complete. Nora Black Might

Storm And Rage,  But He Had Announced his Position In

An Unconventional Blunt Way Which Nobody In the

Carriage Could Fail To Understand. He Felt Somewhat

Like Smiling with Confidence And Defiance In nora'S

Face,  But He Still Had The Fear For Marjory.

Unexpectedly,  The Fight Was All Out Of Nora Black.

She Had The Fury Of A Woman Scorned,  But Evidently

She Had Perceived that All Was Over And Lost. The

Remainder Of Her Wrath Dispensed itself In glares Which

Coleman Withstood With Great Composure.

A Strained silence Fell Upon The Group Which Lasted

Until They Arrived at The Little Port Of Mesalonghi,

Whence They Were To Take Ship For Patras. Coleman

Found Himself Wondering why He Had Not Gone Flatly

At The Great Question At A Much Earlier Period,  Indeed

At The First Moment When The Great Question Began To

Make Life Exciting for Him. He Thought That If He

Had Charged nora'S Guns In the Beginning they Would

Have Turned out To Be The Same Incapable Artillery.

Instead Of That He Had Run Away And Continued to Run

Away Until He Was Actually Cornered and Made To Fight,

And His Easy Victory