Novel 1968 - Brionne (v5.0) Read Free Page A

realized his duty lay to his son.
    “Do you know the place where we are going, pa?” Mat asked now.
    “I’ve had a glimpse of it, son. It is a wild, strange, lonely land. Once you have put your eyes upon it, there is something in it that will never leave you. There are tremendous rocks everywhere—great, grotesque rocks…and overhead the wide sky, the widest sky you ever saw, Mat. It is unbelievable.”
    He paused, thinking back. “I went into new country at your age, Mat. I was born in Canada, you know, and spoke nothing but French as a boy. When I was seven I went to Virginia to live with an aunt, and I grew up there, with occasional visits to Canada and to France.
    “We did a lot of hunting and riding in the Blue Ridge Mountains when I was a boy, and I started school in Virginia. When I was old enough I entered the Virginia Military Institute, and later I spent a year at St. Cyr, in France.”
    It was an exciting story, and he told it the best he knew how, wanting to keep Mat’s interest aroused. James Brionne had, because of his superior training and an uncle’s influence, been commissioned a second lieutenant and sent to Indian country in the West.
    Arriving just at the right moment, he went with Captain Stuart in pursuit of a party of Cheyennes who had attacked a mail party. Recovering twenty-four stolen horses and mules, they killed ten of the Cheyennes. Later, Brionne rode with Colonel Sumner against the Cheyennes and was in the battle of Solomon’s Fork, and in the pursuit that followed.
    In the next few years he rode on two dozen scouting trips into Indian country in Nebraska, Colorado, Wyoming, and Utah, but he was recalled and sent to Europe, without uniform, to engage in counterespionage against Confederate agents operating there, in France, England, and Germany.
    The demand for officers brought him back to the States, where he took part in Grant’s campaigns in the West, acquiring a reputation for his skill in moving and supplying large bodies of men. He was promoted to first lieutenant, then to captain, and finally to major. He had been among the first to see the possibilities of the railroads in handling troops and supplies; but near the end of the war he was once again sent to Europe when there were indications that one or more of the European nations might intervene on the side of the Confederacy. His command of French, as well as the friendships formed during his period at St. Cyr, served him well. When the war ended, he returned to his old home near Warrenton, Virginia, dividing his time between there and Washington.
    “What will we do out west, pa?” Mat wanted to know.
    “Oh, we’ll prospect a little, catch a few wild horses, and we might even run a few cattle. We will cross that bridge when we get to it, Mat. Mostly we are going to see some new country, some wild country.”
    James Brionne pushed back his chair. “Now I must go to speak to the General, Mat.”
    “Pa, what state is St. Louis in?”
    Brionne was considering the arguments he would offer to Grant, and spoke without thinking. “In Missouri, Mat. This is St. Louis, Missouri.”
    Mat stiffened abruptly, and Brionne looked down at his wide, startled eyes with sudden realization. “It is all right, Mat. There is not one chance in a thousand we will ever see the Allards again. And if we ever do, you must not be afraid. I will be with you.”
    He was thinking now that he dared not leave the boy alone in his room, a prey to his imagination and to all the fears it could conjure up in a strange place. He would take Mat with him to see Grant. It might even help, for the General liked children.
    He had started toward the stairway when he heard somebody say, “There goes Major Brionne. He is a friend of President Grant’s.”
    A man seated in a chair near the foot of the steps looked up sharply at the words, his hard blue eyes staring right into those of Brionne.
    Instantly, the man looked away as if fearful of being recognized.