Sound of the Trumpet (30 page)

T
he days went by, and the trouble at the Vandingham plant went quietly on. The government had power to keep the most of it out of the press, even if the Vandinghams didn’t. There was a mere mention briefly of sabatoge discovered among the workers in the plant, definitely settling around one woman who had worked in the office and her fellow-plotters, two men from outside. Erda’s name wasn’t mentioned at first, but it got around who the young woman was, and she was seen no more in the night social life with Victor. People mentioned Victor’s name with raised eyebrows and wondered. Victor was not in evidence anywhere. If he was held in jail, or his family had had influence enough to keep him out on bail, or what, wasn’t known, but there was much speculation.

Later, there was more mention of Erda Brannon and a trial she was undergoing, but only most briefly. There was also the word
murder
in connection with the item, but there were no headlines, and the trial was private and secret. The government saw to that.

Another item weeks later announced that Miss Brannon had been found guilty, with a word or two about her lineage, which connected her definitely with the enemy and spies. With her, three others had been tried and sentenced. Their names were Entry, Lacey, and Weaver, but nobody seemed to know them, and public interest failed to connect them with any known definite group.

Sometime after this, Victor appeared now and then, from whatever confinement he had been under, but he had an ugly hangdog look and was scarcely recognizable for the handsome youth he used to be. He went no more to the Kingsleys and was not seen in social life. He seemed to have dropped out of everything. A little later it was said he was in the army. His mother wept a great deal and continued to blame Lisle Kingsley for it all. She would scarcely speak to Lisle’s mother, who was very indignant at her attitude.

So life was going on. Lisle’s graduation had been quiet, and she immediately joined herself to more war work. Gossips watched her and tried to pity her that she seemed to have lost connection with their social group. They wondered if she wasn’t brokenhearted that Victor seemed out of the running. Of course, she wouldn’t want to
marry
Victor, now that all this talk had been going on about him. Now that people were hinting the Vandinghams were not as rich as they used to be. Or was that so? Some said they were richer than ever and that the government was not holding Victor’s father to blame. They were still using the plant for some important work. But nobody knew anything much about it, and what they made up varied so much that one scarcely could tell what to think.

Letters had been coming from John Sargent from a distant point, and Lisle had been able to write to him, sending on some letters she had written at the first, so that their heart-life should be unbroken. John had been promoted. He was doing something important connected with investigation. His title carried very little idea of what he was doing. It was secret work, and Lisle gathered that there was often danger connected with it. It involved going among fighters, and being one of them at times, but it was a position of trust, and John was proud and happy that his officers had counted him worthy.

Then one glorious morning there came word that John was being sent home on leave to take some special word to Washington. He would probably arrive a few hours after she received his message and would try to call her on the telephone as soon as he had opportunity, and he might be able to be a few days in her vicinity.

The message came in an official envelope and created quite a sensation in the Kingsley household. Mrs. Kingsley carried it to her daughter, greatly apprehensive lest it might in some way be connected with Victor Vandingham, who was in the army, and much to his chagrin as yet was only a private. He didn’t call it “buck private” anymore. He tried to dignify it as a “temporary” place to wait for a fine commission that he confidently expected would come his way someday.

But Lisle’s voice fairly lilted as she took John’s letter. Then, with radiant face, and a voice that was full of joy, she took her letters, the few she had selected to show to her parents pretty soon, and went to her mother’s room to reveal the story of her soldier-betrothed.

“But why didn’t you tell us before, dear?” reproached her mother, when the question of John Sargent’s respectability had been settled to her entire satisfaction. “We would have been so pleased to enjoy your romance with you.”

“Mother, dear, I wanted to wait until you could at least see him, before you knew. I was afraid you would blame me for taking up with an almost stranger, a person who was practically insignificant as far as this world goes. Just a person I got to know best as a plain little religious matter.”

The mother looked thoughtful.

“Yes, dear, perhaps I would,” she admitted. “But I can see there is true worth in this young man. And, of course, there is reassurance always in the fact that he has to do with religious affairs.”

Mrs. Kingsley had learned a great deal in the few times she had attended that Bible study class.

“Dear mother,” said Lisle, tenderly kissing her forehead. “Wait till you see him. Wait till you look into his blue eyes and see his shining hair that is like spun gold and his smile that is like sunshine.”

“Dear! I’m so happy for you,” said her mother, drawing her daughter into her arms and holding her close. “And your father will be so delighted.”

“Yes, Father will like him. Oh, Mother, I’m so happy!”

“Well, now we’ll have to plan for him to come here as soon as he is free, for as long as he can stay.”

“Mother,” said Lisle eagerly, “I’d like us to be married before John goes back, and if he thinks it’s at all possible, I’d like to go with him. For I’m sure his leave won’t be very long. Would you feel very badly to have me do that?”

There were sudden tears in her mother’s eyes, but she managed a trembling smile.

“We’ll see!” she quavered. “Your father and I—we all—will talk it over. If—your—John thinks—it’s right.”

They were happily married very quietly, no stylish wedding, but there was great joy in all hearts, and it was a happy going away. The mother and father felt they could have perfect confidence in trusting their girl to this young man.

“Such a pity!” said Lisle’s girlfriends from her old intimate group, “not to have a
real
wedding, when there would have been so many uniforms. Uniforms do make such a dressy wedding! And Lisle has certainly picked a swell looker! Funny how quiet she was about it all. One would have thought she’d want to show him off. All the girls would have been envious. He’s a great deal better looking than Victor even. Strange how Lisle always picked good lookers! Of course, she’s beautiful and all that, but she’s so awfully quiet, and she doesn’t seem to care to go to nightclubs or parties. Somebody told me she is getting interested in religion. Can you imagine it? Lisle Kingsley? Of course, a little religion doesn’t hurt in an unobtrusive way, but it certainly doesn’t fit with a modern girl’s happy life. But Lisle just isn’t happy anymore!”

“Not happy? But she never did drink or smoke, you know. And she certainly
looks
happy now.”

“Yes, she does, but anybody would, getting married to a good-looking man like that one. Well, I only wish she had had a big wedding. I was just dying to get a new dress, and I know she would have asked me to be a bridesmaid. We always were such close friends.”

“Yes,” said the other girl, “here, too! But this is war times, of course, and you can’t have everything.”

Victor, languishing under the cloud of public suspicion in a uniform of the most insignificant soldier he could possibly be, read the notice of that quiet wedding with a bitter feeling of humiliation in his heart. His one-time girl had married another man! And when he read the man’s name and found that Lisle had married his old college enemy, he felt that he had reached the depths of utter humiliation, and it wasn’t fair! All this to come to Victor Vandingham! Victor had not learned to recognize his own follies and weaknesses. He thought he was something noble and deserved everything he wanted in this life.

But back in the Kingsley home, the father and mother were talking it over.

“Lisle looked very happy, didn’t she, Father?” said the mother, brushing away a bright tear. “And so sweet! It seemed to me I had never seen her look so glad since she was a very little girl.”

“Yes,” said the father, “she looked so entirely satisfied. And she’s got a wonderful man! I
like
him! The more I see of him, the better satisfied I am. And I’m so glad he went right into the army as soon as he was free to go. Of course, I know he had a good defense job and all that, but I’m glad that he
wanted
to get into danger and do his part. He wasn’t just trying to save his hide, like that young Vandingham! I do admire a man who has courage, a sense of right and wrong, and isn’t all for himself. I
like
him!”

“Yes,” said Mrs. Kingsley. “Lisle told me he said the reason he went into the army was because he heard a trumpet sounding in his soul and he had to answer it. I thought that was beautiful.”

“Yes, beautifully expressed,” agreed the father. “I’m proud of him. A young man who hears the sound of a trumpet in his soul and
answers
it!”

G
RACE
L
IVINGSTON
H
ILL
(1865–1947) is known as the pioneer of Christian romance. Grace wrote over one hundred faith-inspired books during her lifetime. When her first husband died, leaving her with two daughters to raise, writing became a way to make a living, but she always recognized storytelling as a way to share her faith in God. She has touched countless lives through the years and continues to touch lives today. Her books feature moving stories, delightful characters, and love in its purest form.

Grace Livingston Hill began writing stories in 1877 at the tender age of twelve and didn’t stop until her death in 1947. But what may be more amazing is that she has sold over 84 million copies and is still loved by young and old alike.