PART II—­IN SPAIN

CHAPTER XIII—­GENERAL ALISON TO HIS MOTHER

It was a prodigious trip, but delightful, of course, through the Rockies and the Black Hills and the mighty sweep of the Great Plains to civilization and the Missouri border—­where the railroading began and the delightfulness ended.  But no one is the worse for the journey; certainly not Cathy, nor Dorcas, nor Soldier Boy; and as for me, I am not complaining.

Spain is all that Cathy had pictured it—­and more, she says.  She is in a fury of delight, the maddest little animal that ever was, and all for joy.  She thinks she remembers Spain, but that is not very likely, I suppose.  The two—­Mercedes and Cathy—­devour each other.  It is a rapture of love, and beautiful to see.  It is Spanish; that describes it.  Will this be a short visit?

No.  It will be permanent.  Cathy has elected to abide with Spain and her aunt.  Dorcas says she (Dorcas) foresaw that this would happen; and also says that she wanted it to happen, and says the child’s own country is the right place for her, and that she ought not to have been sent to me, I ought to have gone to her.  I thought it insane to take Soldier Boy to Spain, but it was well that I yielded to Cathy’s pleadings; if he had been left behind, half of her heart would have remained with him, and she would not have been contented.  As it is, everything has fallen out for the best, and we are all satisfied and comfortable.  It may be that Dorcas and I will see America again some day; but also it is a case of maybe not.

We left the post in the early morning.  It was an affecting time.  The women cried over Cathy, so did even those stern warriors, the Rocky Mountain Rangers; Shekels was there, and the Cid, and Sardanapalus, and Potter, and Mongrel, and Sour-Mash, Famine, and Pestilence, and Cathy kissed them all and wept; details of the several arms of the garrison were present to represent the rest, and say good-bye and God bless you for all the soldiery; and there was a special squad from the Seventh, with the oldest veteran at its head, to speed the Seventh’s Child with grand honors and impressive ceremonies; and the veteran had a touching speech by heart, and put up his hand in salute and tried to say it, but his lips trembled and his voice broke, but Cathy bent down from the saddle and kissed him on the mouth and turned his defeat to victory, and a cheer went up.

The next act closed the ceremonies, and was a moving surprise.  It may be that you have discovered, before this, that the rigors of military law and custom melt insensibly away and disappear when a soldier or a regiment or the garrison wants to do something that will please Cathy.  The bands conceived the idea of stirring her soldierly heart with a farewell which would remain in her memory always, beautiful and unfading, and bring back the past and its love for her whenever she should think of it; so they got their project placed before General Burnaby, my successor, who is Cathy’s newest slave, and in spite of poverty of precedents they got his permission.  The bands knew the child’s favorite military airs.  By this hint you know what is coming, but Cathy didn’t.  She was asked to sound the “reveille,” which she did.