diff options
Diffstat (limited to '14051-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 14051-0.txt | 7151 |
1 files changed, 7151 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/14051-0.txt b/14051-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4c503cb --- /dev/null +++ b/14051-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7151 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14051 *** + +[Illustration: THE BACKWOODS PHILOSOPHER +_(Frontispiece. See page 40.)_] + +The End of the World. + + + +A LOVE STORY, + + + +BY + +EDWARD EGGLESTON + +AUTHOR OF "THE HOOSIER SCHOOLMASTER," ETC. + +WITH THIRTY-TWO ILLUSTRATIONS. + +1872 + + + + +PREFACE. + +[IN THE POTENTIAL MOOD.] + +It is the pretty unanimous conclusion of book-writers that prefaces are +most unnecessary and useless prependages, since nobody reads them. And +it is the pretty unanimous practice of book-writers to continue to write +them with such pains and elaborateness as would indicate a belief that +the success of a book depends upon the favorable prejudice begotten of u +graceful preface. My principal embarrassment is that it is not customary +for a book to have more than one. How then shall I choose between the +half-dozen letters of introduction I might give my story, each better +and worse on many accounts than either of the others? I am rather +inclined to adopt the following, which might for some reasons be +styled the + +PREFACE SENTIMENTAL. + +Perhaps no writer not infatuated with conceit, can send out a book full +of thought and feeling which, whatever they may be worth, are his own, +without a parental anxiety in regard to the fate of his offspring. And +there are few prefaces which do not in some way betray this nervousness. +I confess to a respect for even the prefatory doggerel of good Tinker +Bunyan--a respect for his paternal tenderness toward his book, not at +all for his villainous rhyming. When I saw, the other day, the white +handkerchiefs of my children waving an adieu as they sailed away from +me, a profound anxiety seized me. So now, as I part company with August +and Julia, with my beloved Jonas and my much-respected Cynthy Ann, with +the mud-clerk on the Iatan, and the shaggy lord of Shady-Hollow Castle, +and the rest, that have watched with me of nights and crossed the ferry +with me twice a day for half a year--even now, as I see them waving me +adieu with their red silk and "yaller" cotton "hand-kerchers," I know +how many rocks of misunderstanding and criticism and how many shoals of +damning faint praise are before them, and my heart is full of misgiving. + +--But it will never do to have misgivings in a preface. How often have +publishers told me this! Ah! if I could write with half the heart and +hope my publishers evince in their advertisements, where they talk about +"front rank" and "great American story" and all that, it would doubtless +be better for the book, provided anybody would read the preface or +believe it when they had read it. But at any rate let us not have a +preface in the minor key. + +A philosophical friend of mine, who is addicted to Carlyle, has +recommended that I try the following, which he calls + +THE HIGH PHILOSOPHICAL PREFACE. + +Why should I try to forestall the Verdict? Is it not foreordained in the +very nature of a Book and the Constitution of the Reader that a certain +very Definite Number of Readers will misunderstand and dislike a given +Book? And that another very Definite Number will understand it and +dislike it none the less? And that still a third class, also definitely +fixed in the Eternal Nature of Things, will misunderstand and like it, +and, what is more, like it only because of their misunderstanding? And +in relation to a true Book, there can not fail to be an Elect Few who +understand admiringly and understandingly admire. Why, then, make bows, +write prefaces, attempt to prejudice the Case? Can I change the Reader? +Will I change the Book? No? Then away with Preface! The destiny of the +Book is fixed. I can not foretell it, for I am no prophet. But let us +not hope to change the Fates by our prefatory bowing and scraping. + +--I was forced to confess to my friend who was so kind as to offer to +lend me this preface, that there was much truth in it and that truth is +nowhere more rare than in prefaces, but it was not possible to adopt it +for two reasons: one, that my proof-reader can not abide so many +capitals, maintaining that they disfigure the page, and what is a +preface of the high philosophical sort worth without a profusion of +capitals? Even Carlyle's columns would lose their greatest ornament if +their capitals were gone. The second reason for declining to use this +preface was that my publishers are not philosophers and would never be +content with an "Elect Few," and for my own part the pecuniary interest +I have in the copyright renders it quite desirable that as many as +possible should be elected to like it, or at least to buy it. + +After all it seems a pity that I can not bring myself to use a +straightforward + +APOLOGETIC AND EXPLANATORY PREFACE. + +In view of the favor bestowed upon the author's previous story, both by +the Public who Criticise and the Public who Buy, it seems a little +ungracious to present so soon, another, the scene of which is also laid +in the valley of the Ohio. But the picture of Western country life in +"The Hoosier School-Master" would not have been complete without this +companion-piece, which presents a different phase of it. And indeed +there is no provincial life richer in material if only one knew how to +get at it. + +Nothing is more reverent than a wholesome hatred of hypocrisy. If any +man think I have offended against his religion, I must believe that his +religion is not what it should be. If anybody shall imagine that this is +a work of religious controversy leveled at the Adventists, he will have +wholly mistaken my meaning. Literalism and fanaticism are not vices +confined to any one sect. They are, unfortunately, pretty widely +distributed. However, if-- + +--And so on. + +But why multiply examples of the half-dozen or more that I might, could, +would, or should have written? Since everybody is agreed that, nobody +reads a preface, I have concluded to let the book go without any. + +BROOKLYN, September, 1872. + +"_And as he [Wordsworth] mingled freely with all kinds of men, he found +a pith of sense and a solidity of judgment here and there among the +unlearned which he had failed to find in the most lettered; from obscure +men he heard high truths.... And love, true love and pure, he found was +no flower reared only in what was called refined society, and requiring +leisure and polished manners for its growth.... He believed that in +country people, what is permanent in human nature, the essential +feelings and passions of mankind, exist in greater simplicity and +strength_."--PRINCIPAL SHAIRP. + + * * * * * + +A DEDICATION. + +It would hardly be in character for me to dedicate this book in good, +stiff, old-fashioned tomb-stone style, but I could not have put in the +background of scenery without being reminded of the two boys, +inseparable as the Siamese twins, who gathered mussel-shells in the +river marge, played hide-and-seek in the hollow sycamores, and led a +happy life in the shadow of just such hills as those among which the +events of this story took place. And all the more that the generous boy +who was my playmate then is the generous man who has relieved me of many +burdens while I wrote this story, do I feel impelled to dedicate it to +GEORGE CARY EGGLESTON, a manly man and a brotherly brother. + + + +CONTENTS. + +CHAPTER I.--In Love with a Dutchman. +CHAPTER II.--An Explosion. +CHAPTER III.--A Farewell. +CHAPTER IV.--A Counter-Irritant. +CHAPTER V.--At the Castle. +CHAPTER VI.--The Backwoods Philosopher. +CHAPTER VII.--Within and Without. +CHAPTER VIII.--Figgers won't Lie. +CHAPTER IX.--The New Singing-Master. +CHAPTER X.--An Offer of Help. +CHAPTER XI.--The Coon-dog Argument. +CHAPTER XII.--Two Mistakes. +CHAPTER XIII.--The Spider Spins. +CHAPTER XIV.--The Spider's Web. +CHAPTER XV.--The Web Broken. +CHAPTER XVI.--Jonas Expounds the Subject. +CHAPTER XVII.--The Wrong Pew. +CHAPTER XVIII.--The Encounter. +CHAPTER XIX.--The Mother. +CHAPTER XX.--The Steam-Doctor. +CHAPTER XXI.--The Hawk in a New Part. +CHAPTER XXII.--Jonas Expresses his Opinion on Dutchmen. +CHAPTER XXIII.--Somethin' Ludikerous. +CHAPTER XXIV.--The Giant Great-heart. +CHAPTER XXV.--A Chapter of Betweens. +CHAPTER XXVI.--A Nice Little Game. +CHAPTER XXVII.--The Result of an Evening with Gentlemen. +CHAPTER XXVIII.--Waking up an Ugly Customer. +CHAPTER XXIX.--August and Norman. +CHAPTER XXX.--Aground. +CHAPTER XXXI.--Cynthy Ann's Sacrifice. +CHAPTER XXXII.--Julia's Enterprise. +CHAPTER XXXIII.--The Secret Stairway. +CHAPTER XXXIV.--The Interview. +CHAPTER XXXV.--Getting Ready for the End. +CHAPTER XXXVI.--The Sin of Sanctimony. +CHAPTER XXXVII.--The Deluge. +CHAPTER XXXVIII.--Scaring a Hawk. +CHAPTER XXXIX.--Jonas takes an Appeal. +CHAPTER XL.--Selling out. +CHAPTER XLI.--The Last Day and What Happened in it. +CHAPTER XLII.--For Ever and Ever. +CHAPTER XLIII.--The Midnight Alarm. +CHAPTER XLIV.--Squaring Accounts. +CHAPTER XLV.--New Plans. +CHAPTER XLVI.--The Shiveree. + + * * * * * + +ILLUSTRATIONS. + +BY FRANK BEARD + +The Backwoods Philosopher +Taking an Observation +A Talk with a Plowman +A little rustle brought her to consciousness +Gottlieb +The Castle +The Sedilium at the Castle +"Look at me" +"Don't be oncharitable, Jonas" +The Hawk +"Tell that to Jule" +Tempted +"Now I hate you" +At Cynthy's Door +Cynthy Ann had often said in class-meeting that temptations abounded on + every hand +Jonas +Julia sat down in mortification +"Good-by!" +The Mother's Blessing +Corn-Sweats and Calamus +"Fire! Murder! Help!" +Norman Anderson +Somethin' Ludikerous +To the Rescue +A Nice Little Game +The Mud-Clerk +Waking up an Ugly Customer +Cynthy Ann's Sacrifice +A Pastoral Visit +Brother Goshorn +"Say them words over again" +"I want to buy your place" + + + +THE END OF THE WORLD. + + * * * * * + +CHAPTER I. + +IN LOVE WITH A DUTCHMAN. + +"I don't believe that you'd care a cent if she did marry a Dutchman! She +might as well as to marry some white folks I know." + +Samuel Anderson made no reply. It would be of no use to reply. Shrews +are tamed only by silence. Anderson had long since learned that the +little shred of influence which remained to him in his own house would +disappear whenever his teeth were no longer able to shut his tongue +securely in. So now, when his wife poured out this hot lava of +_argumentum ad hominem_, he closed the teeth down in a dead-lock way +over the tongue, and compressed the lips tightly over the teeth, and +shut his finger-nails into his work-hardened palms. And then, +distrusting all these precautions, fearing lest he should be unable to +hold on to his temper even with this grip, the little man strode out of +the house with his wife's shrill voice in his ears. + +Mrs. Anderson had good reason to fear that her daughter was in love with +a "Dutchman," as she phrased it in her contempt. The few Germans who had +penetrated to the West at that time were looked upon with hardly more +favor than the Californians feel for the almond-eyed Chinaman. They were +foreigners, who would talk gibberish instead of the plain English which +everybody could understand, and they were not yet civilized enough to +like the yellow saleratus-biscuit and the "salt-rising" bread of which +their neighbors were so fond. Reason enough to hate them! + +Only half an hour before this outburst of Mrs. Anderson's, she had set a +trap for her daughter Julia, and had fairly caught her. + +"Jule! Jule! O Jul-y-e-ee!" she had called. + +And Julia, who was down in the garden hoeing a bed in which she meant to +plant some "Johnny-Jump-ups," came quickly toward the house, though she +know it would be of no use to come quickly. Let her come quickly, or let +her come slowly, the rebuke was sure to greet her all the name. + +"Why don't you come when you're called, _I'd_ like to know! You're never +in reach when you're wanted, and you're good for nothing when you +are here!" + +Julia Anderson's earliest lesson from her mother's lips had been that +she was good for nothing. And every day and almost every hour since had +brought her repeated assurances that she was good for nothing. If she +had not been good for a great deal, she would long since have been good +for nothing as the result of such teaching. But though this was not the +first, nor the thousandth, nor the ten thousandth time that she had +been told that she was good for nothing, the accustomed insult seemed to +sting her now more than ever. Was it that, being almost eighteen, she +was beginning to feel the woman blossoming in her nature? Or, was it +that the tender words of August Wehle had made her sure that she was +good for something, that now her heart felt her mother's insult to be a +stale, selfish, ill-natured lie? + +"Take this cup of tea over to Mrs. Malcolm's, and tell her that it a'n't +quite as good as what I borried of her last week. And tell her that +they'll be a new-fangled preacher at the school-house a Sunday, a +Millerite or somethin', a preachin' about the end of the world." + +Julia did not say "Yes, ma'am," in her usually meek style. She smarted a +little yet from the harsh words, and so went away in silence. + +Why did she walk fast? Had she noticed that August Wehle, who was +"breaking up" her father's north field, was just plowing down the west +side of his land? If she hastened, she might reach the cross-fence as he +came round to it, and while he was yet hidden from the sight of the +house by the turn of the hill. And would not a few words from August +Wehle be pleasant to her ears after her mother's sharp depreciation? It +is at least safe to conjecture that some such feeling made her hurry +through the long, waving timothy of the meadow, and made her cross the +log that spanned the brook without ever so much as stopping to look at +the minnows glancing about in the water flecked with the sunlight that +struggled through the boughs of the water-willows. For, in her thorough +loneliness, Julia Anderson had come to love the birds, the squirrels, +and the fishes as companions, and in all her life she had never before +crossed the meadow brook without stooping to look at the minnows. + +All this haste Mrs. Anderson noticed. Having often scolded + +[Illustration: TAKING AN OBSERVATION.] + +Julia for "talking to the fishes like a fool," she noticed the omission. +And now she only waited until Julia was over the hill to take the path +round the fence under shelter of the blackberry thicket until she came +to the clump of alders, from the midst of which she could plainly see +if any conversation should take place between her Julia and the comely +young Dutchman. + +In fact, Julia need not have hurried so much. For August Wehle had kept +one eye on his horses and the other on the house all that day. It was +the quick look of intelligence between the two at dinner that had +aroused the mother's suspicions. And Wehle had noticed the work on the +garden-bed, the call to the house, and the starting of Julia on the path +toward Mrs. Malcolm's. His face had grown hot, and his hand had +trembled. For once he had failed to see the stone in his way, until the +plow was thrown clean from the furrow. And when he came to the shade of +the butternut-tree by which she must pass, it had seemed to him +imperative that the horses should rest. Besides, the hames-string wanted +tightening on the bay, and old Dick's throat-latch must need a little +fixing. He was not sure that the clevis-pin had not been loosened by the +collision with the stone just now. And so, upon one pretext and another, +he managed to delay starting his plow until Julia came by, and then, +though his heart had counted all her steps from the door-stone to the +tree, then he looked up surprised. Nothing could be so astonishing to +him as to see her there! For love is needlessly crafty, it has always an +instinct of concealment, of indirection about it. The boy, and +especially the girl, who will tell the truth frankly in regard to a love +affair is a miracle of veracity. But there are such, and they are to be +reverenced--with the reverence paid to martyrs. + +On her part, Julia Anderson had walked on as though she meant to pass +the young plowman by, until he spoke, and then she started, and blushed, +and stopped, and nervously broke off the top of a last year's iron-weed +and began to break it into bits while he talked, looking down most of +the time, but lifting her eyes to his now and then. And to the +sun-browned but delicate-faced young German it seemed, a vision of +Paradise--every glimpse of that fresh girl's face in the deep shade of +the sun-bonnet. For girls' faces can never look so sweet in this +generation as they did to the boys who caught sight of them, hidden +away, precious things, in the obscurity of a tunnel of pasteboard +and calico! + +This was not their first love-talk. Were they engaged? Yes, and no. By +all the speech their eyes were capable of in school, and of late by +words, they were engaged in loving one another, and in telling one +another of it. But they were young, and separated by circumstances, and +they had hardly begun to think of marriage yet. It was enough for the +present to love and be loved. The most delightful stage of a love affair +is that in which the present is sufficient and there is no past or +future. And so August hung his elbow around the top of the bay horse's +hames, and talked to Julia. + +It is the highest praise of the German heart that it loves flowers and +little children; and like a German and like a lover that he was, August +began to speak of the anemones and the violets that were already +blooming in the corners of the fence. Girls in love are not apt to say +any thing very fresh. And Julia only said she thought the flowers seemed +happy in the sunlight In answer to this speech, which seemed to the +lover a bit of inspiration, he quoted from Schiller the lines: + + "Yet weep, soft children of the Spring; + The feelings Love alone can bring + Have been denied to you!" + +With the quick and crafty modesty of her sex, Julia evaded this very +pleasant shaft by saying: "How much you know, August! How do you +learn it?" + +[Illustration: A TALK WITH A PLOWMAN.] + +And August was pleased, partly because of the compliment, but chiefly +because in saying it Julia had brought the sun-bonnet in such a range +that he could see the bright eyes and blushing face at the bottom of +this _camera-oscura_. He did not hasten to reply. While the vision +lasted he enjoyed the vision. Not until the sun-bonnet dropped did he +take up the answer to her question. + +"I don't know much, but what I do know I have learned out of your Uncle +Andrew's books." + +"Do you know my Uncle Andrew? What a strange man he is! He never comes +here, and we never go there, and my mother never speaks to him, and my +father doesn't often have anything to say to him. And so you have been +at his house. They say he has all up-stairs full of books, and ever so +many cats and dogs and birds and squirrels about. But I thought he never +let anybody go up-stairs." + +"He lets me," said August, when she had ended her speech and dropped her +sun-bonnet again out of the range of his eyes, which, in truth, were too +steadfast in their gaze. "I spend many evenings up-stairs." August had +just a trace of German in his idiom. + +"What makes Uncle Andrew so curious, I wonder?" + +"I don't exactly know. Some say he was treated not just right by a woman +when he was a young man. I don't know. He seems happy. I don't wonder a +man should be curious though when a woman that he loves treats him not +just right. Any way, if he loves her with all his heart, as I love Jule +Anderson!" + +These last words came with an effort. And Julia just then remembered +her errand, and said, "I must hurry," and, with a country girl's +agility, she climbed over the fence before August could help her, and +gave him another look through her bonnet-telescope from the other Hide, +and then hastened on to return the tea, und to tell Mrs. Malcolm that +there was to be a Millerite preacher at the school-house on Sunday +night. And August found that his horses were quite cool, while he was +quite hot. He cleaned his mold board, and swung his plow round, and +then, with a "Whoa! haw!" and a pull upon the single line which Western +plowmen use to guide their horses, he drew the team into their place, +and set himself to watching the turning of the rich, fragrant black +earth. And even as he set his plowshare, so he set his purpose to +overcome all obstacles, and to marry Julia Anderson. With the same +steady, irresistible, onward course would he overcome all that lay +between him and the soul that shone out of the face that dwelt in the +bottom of the sun-bonnet. + +From her covert in the elder-bushes Mrs. Anderson had seen the parley, +and her cheeks had also grown hot, but from a very different emotion. +She had not heard the words. She had seen the loitering girl and the +loitering plowboy, and she went back to the house vowing that she'd +"teach Jule Anderson how to spend her time talking to a Dutchman." And +yet the more she thought of it, the more she was satisfied that it +wasn't best to "make a fuss" just yet. She might hasten what she wanted +to prevent. For though Julia was obedient and mild in word, she was none +the less a little stubborn, and in a matter of this sort might take the +bit in her teeth. + +And so Mrs. Anderson had recourse, as usual, to her husband. She knew +she could browbeat him. She demanded that August Wehle should be paid +off and discharged. And when Anderson had hesitated, because he feared +he could not get another so good a hand, and for other reasons, she +burst out into the declaration: + +"I don't believe that you'd care a cent if she did marry a Dutchman! She +might as well as to marry some white folks I know." + + + +CHAPTER II. + +AN EXPLOSION. + +It was settled that August was to be quietly discharged at the end of +his month, which was Saturday night. Neither he nor Julia must suspect +any opposition to their attachment, nor any discovery of it, indeed. +This was settled by Mrs. Anderson. She usually settled things. First, +she settled upon the course to be pursued. Then she settled her husband. +He always made a show of resistance. His dignity required a show of +resistance. But it was only a show. He always meant to surrender in the +end. Whenever his wife ceased her fire of small-arms and herself hung +out the flag of truce, he instantly capitulated. As in every other +dispute, so in this one about the discharge of the "miserable, impudent +Dutchman," Mrs. Anderson attacked her husband at all his weak points, +and she had learned by heart a catalogue of his weak points. Then, when +he was sufficiently galled to be entirely miserable; when she had +expressed her regret that she hadn't married somebody with some heart, +and that she had ever left her father's house, for her _father_ was +_always_ good to her; and when she had sufficiently reminded him of the +lover she had given up for him, and of how much _he_ had loved her, and +how miserable she had made _him_ by loving Samuel Anderson--when she had +conducted the quarrel through all the preliminary stages, she always +carried her point in the end by a _coup de partie_ somewhat in +this fashion: + +"That's just the way! Always the way with you men! I suppose I must give +up to you as usual. You've lorded it over me from the start. I can't +even have the management of my own daughter. But I do think that after +I've let you have your way in so many things, you might turn off that +fellow. You might let me have my way in one little thing, and you +_would_ if you cared for me. You know how liable I am to die at any +moment of heart-disease, and yet you will prolong this excitement in +this way." + +Now, there is nothing a weak man likes so much as to be considered +strong, nothing a henpecked man likes so much as to be regarded a +tyrant. If you ever hear a man boast of his determination to rule his +own house, you may feel sure that he is subdued. And a henpecked husband +always makes a great show of opposing everything that looks toward the +enlargement of the work or privileges of women. Such a man insists on +the shadow of authority because he can not have the substance. It is a +great satisfaction to him that his wife can never be president, and that +she can not make speeches in prayer-meeting. While he retains these +badges of superiority, he is still in some sense head of the family. + +So when Mrs. Anderson loyally reminded her husband that she had always +let him have his own way, he believed her because he wanted to, though +he could not just at the moment recall the particular instances. And +knowing that he must yield, he rather liked to yield as an act of +sovereign grace to the poor oppressed wife who begged it. + +"Well, if you insist on it, of course, I will not refuse you," he said; +"and perhaps you are right." He had yielded in this way almost every day +of his married life, and in this way he yielded to the demand that +August should he discharged. But he agreed with his wife that Julia +should not know anything about it, and that there must be no +leave-taking allowed. + +The very next day Julia sat sewing on the long porch in front of the +house. Cynthy Ann was getting dinner in the kitchen at the other end of +the hall, and Mrs. Anderson was busy in her usual battle with dirt. She +kept the house clean, because it gratified her combativeness and her +domineering disposition to have the house clean in spite of the +ever-encroaching dirt. And so she scrubbed and scolded, and scolded and +scrubbed, the scrubbing and scolding agreeing in time and rhythm. The +scolding was the vocal music, the scrubbing an accompaniment. The +concordant discord was perfect. Just at the moment I speak of there was +a lull in her scolding. The symphonious scrubbing went on as usual. +Julia, wishing to divert the next thunder-storm from herself, erected +what she imagined might prove a conversational lightning-rod, by asking +a question on a topic foreign to the theme of the last march her mother +had played and sung so sweetly with brush and voice. + +"Mother, what makes Uncle Andrew so queer?" + +"I don't know. He was always queer." This was spoken in a staccato, +snapping-turtle way. But when one has lived all one's life with a +snapping-turtle, one doesn't mind. Julia did not mind. She was curious +to know what was the matter with her uncle, Andrew Anderson. So +she said: + +"I've heard that some false woman treated him cruelly; is that so?" + +Julia did not see how red her mother's face was, for she was not +regarding her. + +"Who told you that?" Julia was so used to hearing her mother speak in an +excited way that she hardly noticed the strange tremor in this question. + +"August." + +The symphony ceased in a moment. The scrubbing-brush dropped in the pail +of soapsuds. But the vocal storm burst forth with a violence that +startled even Julia. "August said _that_, did he? And you listened, did +you? You listened to _that? You_ listened to that? _You listened_ to +_that_? Hey? He slandered your mother. You listened to him slander your +mother!" By this time Mrs. Anderson was at white heat. Julia was +speechless. "_I_ saw you yesterday flirting with that _Dutchman_, and +listening to his abuse of your mother! And now you _insult_ me! Well, +to-morrow will be the last day that that Dutchman will hold a plow on +this place. And you'd better look out for yourself, miss! You--" + +Here followed a volley of epithets which Julia received standing. But +when her mother's voice grew to a scream, Julia took the word. + +"Mother, hush!" + +It was the first word of resistance she had ever uttered. The agony +within must have been terrible to have wrung it from her. The mother was +stunned with anger and astonishment. She could not recover herself +enough to speak until Jule had fled half-way up the stairs. Then her +mother covered her defeat by screaming after her, "Go to your own room, +you impudent hussy! You know I am liable to die of heart-disease any +minute, and you want to kill me!" + + + +CHAPTER III. + +A FAREWELL. + +Mrs. Anderson felt that she had made a mistake. She had not meant to +tell Julia that August was to leave. But now that this stormy scene had +taken place, she thought she could make a good use of it. She knew that +her husband co-operated with her in her opposition to "the Dutchman," +only because he was afraid of his wife. In his heart, Samuel Anderson +could not refuse anything to his daughter. Denied any of the happiness +which most men find in loving their wives, he found consolation in the +love of his daughter. Secretly, as though his paternal affection were a +crime, he caressed Julia, and his wife was not long in discovering that +the father cared more for a loving daughter than for a shrewish wife. +She watched him jealously, and had come to regard her daughter as one +who had supplanted her in her husband's affections, and her husband as +robbing her of the love of her daughter. In truth, Mrs. Samuel Anderson +had come to stand so perpetually on guard against imaginary +encroachments on her rights, that she saw enemies everywhere. She hated +Wehle because he was a Dutchman; she would have hated him on a dozen +other scores if he had been an American. It was offense enough that +Julia loved him. + +So now she resolved to gain her husband to her side by her version of +the story, and before dinner she had told him how August had charged her +with being false and cruel to Andrew many years ago, and how Jule had +thrown it up to her, and how near she had come to dropping down with +palpitation of the heart. And Samuel Anderson reddened, and declared +that he would protect his wife from such insults. The notion that he +protected his wife was a pleasant fiction of the little man's, which +received a generous encouragement at the hands of his wife. It was a +favorite trick of hers to throw herself, in a metaphorical way, at his +feet, a helpless woman, and in her feebleness implore his protection. +And Samuel felt all the courage of knighthood in defending his +inoffensive wife. Under cover of this fiction, so flattering to the +vanity of an overawed husband, she had managed at one time or another to +embroil him with almost all the neighbors, and his refusal to join +fences had resulted in that crooked arrangement known as a "devil's +lane" on three sides of his farm. + +Julia dared not stay away from dinner, which was miserable enough. She +did not venture so much as to look at August, who sat opposite her, and +who was the most unhappy person at the table, because he did not know +what all the unhappiness was about. Mr. Anderson's brow foreboded a +storm, Mrs. Anderson's face was full of an earthquake, Cynthy Ann was +sitting in shadow, and Julia's countenance perplexed him. Whether she +was angry with him or not, he could not be sure. Of one thing he was +certain: she was suffering a great deal, and that was enough to make him +exceedingly unhappy. + +Sitting through his hurried meal in this atmosphere surcharged with +domestic electricity, he got the notion--he could hardly tell how--that +all this lowering of the sky had something to do with him. What had he +done? Nothing. His closest self-examination told him that he had done no +wrong. But his spirits were depressed, and his sensitive conscience +condemned him for some unknown crime that had brought about all this +disturbance of the elements. The ham did not seem very good, the cabbage +he could not eat, the corn-dodger choked him, he had no desire to wait +for the pie. He abridged his meal, and went out to the barn to keep +company with his horses and his misery until it should be time to return +to his plow. + +Julia sat and sewed in that tedious afternoon. She would have liked one +more interview with August before his departure. Looking through the +open hall, she saw him leave the barn and go toward his plowing. Not +that she looked up. Hawk never watched chicken more closely than Mrs. +Anderson watched poor Jule. But out of the corners of her eyes Julia saw +him drive his horses before him from the stable. At the field in which +he worked was on the other side of the house from where she sat she +could not so much as catch a glimpse of him as he held his plow on its +steady course. She wished she might have helped Cynthy Ann in the +kitchen, for then she could have seen him, but there was no chance for +such a transfer. + +Thus the tedious afternoon wore away, and just as the sun was settling +down so that the shadow of the elm in the front-yard stretched across +the road into the cow pasture, the dead silence was broken. Julia had +been wishing that somebody would speak. Her mother's sulky +speechlessness was worse than her scolding, and Julia had even wished +her to resume her storming. But the silence was broken by Cynthy Ann, +who came into the hall and called, "Jule, I wish you would go to the +barn and gether the eggs; I want to make some cake." + +Every evening of her life Julia gathered the eggs, and there was nothing +uncommon in Cynthy Ann's making cake, so that nothing could be more +innocent than this request. Julia sat opposite the front-door, her +mother sat farther along. Julia could see the face of Cynthy Ann. Her +mother could only hear the voice, which was dry and commonplace enough. +Julia thought she detected something peculiar in Cynthy's manner. She +would as soon have thought of the big oak gate-posts with their round +ball-like heads telegraphing her in a sly way, as to have suspected any +such craft on the part of Cynthy Ann, who was a good, pious, +simple-hearted, Methodist old maid, strict with herself, and censorious +toward others. But there stood Cynthy making some sort of gesture, which +Julia took to mean that she was to go quick. She did not dare to show +any eagerness. She laid down her work, and moved away listlessly. And +evidently she had been too slow. For if August had been in sight when +Cynthy Ann called her, he had now disappeared on the other side of the +hill. She loitered along, hoping that he would come in sight, but he did +not, and then she almost smiled to think how foolish she had been in +imagining that Cynthy Ann had any interest in her love affair. Doubtless +Cynthy sided with her mother. + +And so she climbed from mow to mow gathering the eggs. No place is +sweeter than a mow, no occupation can be more delightful than gathering +the fresh eggs--great glorious pearls, more beautiful than any that men +dive for, despised only because they are so common and so useful! But +Julia, gliding about noiselessly, did not think much of the eggs, did +not give much attention to the hens scratching for wheat kernels amongst +the straw, nor to the barn swallows chattering over the adobe dwellings +which they were building among the rafters above her. She had often +listened to the love-talk of these last, but now her heart was too heavy +to hear. She slid down to the edge of one of the mows, and sat there a +few feet above the threshing-floor with her bonnet in her hand, looking +off sadly and vacantly. It was pleasant to sit here alone and think, +without the feeling that her mother was penetrating her thoughts. + +A little rustle brought her to consciousness. Her face was fiery red in +a minute. There, in one corner of the threshing-floor, stood August, +gazing at her. He had come into the barn to find a single-tree in place +of one which had broken. While he was looking for it, Julia had come, +and he had stood and looked, unable to decide whether to speak or not, +uncertain how deeply she might be offended, since she had never once let +her eyes rest on him at dinner. And when she had come to the edge of the +mow and stopped there in a reverie, August had been utterly spell-bound. + +A minute she blushed. Then, perceiving her opportunity, she dropped +herself to the floor and walked up to August. + +"August, you are to be turned off to-morrow night." + +"What have I done? Anything wrong?" + +"No." + +"Why do they send me away?" + +"Because--because--" Julia stopped. + +But silence is often better than speech. A sudden intelligence came +into the blue eyes of August. "They turn me off because I love Jule +Anderson." + +[Illustration: A LITTLE RUSTLE BROUGHT HER TO CONSCIOUSNESS.] + +Julia blushed just a little. + +"I will love her all the same when I am gone. I will always love her." + +Julia did not know what to say to this passionate speech, so she +contented herself with looking a little grateful and very foolish. + +"But I am only a poor boy, and a Dutchman at that"--he said this +bitterly--"but if you will wait, Jule, I will show them I am of some +account. Not good enough for you, but good enough for _them_. +You will--" + +"I will wait--_forever_--for _you_, Gus." Her head was down, and her +voice could hardly be heard. "Good-by." She stretched out her hand, and +he took it trembling. + +"Wait a minute." He dropped the hand, and taking a pencil wrote on a +beam: + +"March 18th, 1843." + +"There, that's to remember the Dutchman by." + +"Don't call yourself a Dutchman, August. One day in school, when I was +sitting opposite to you, I learned this definition, 'August: grand, +magnificent,' and I looked at you and said, Yes, that he is. August is +grand and magnificent, and that's what you are. You're just grand!" + +I do not think he was to blame. I am sure he was not responsible. It was +done so quickly. He kissed her forehead and then her lips, and said +good-by and was gone. And she, with her apron full of eggs and her +cheeks very red--it makes one warm to climb--went back to the house, +resolved in some way to thank Cynthy Ann for sending her; but Cynthy +Ann's face was so serious and austere in its look that Julia concluded +she must have been mistaken, Cynthy Ann couldn't have known that August +was in the barn. For all she said was: + +"You got a right smart lot of eggs, didn't you? The hens is beginnin' to +lay more peart since the warm spell sot in." + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +A COUNTER-IRRITANT. + +"Vot you kits doornt off vor? Hey?" + +Gottlieb Wehle always spoke English, or what he called English, when he +was angry. + +"Vot for? Hey?" + +All the way home from Anderson's on that Saturday night, August had +been, in imagination, listening to the rough voice of his honest father +asking this question, and he had been trying to find a satisfactory +answer to it. He might say that Mr. Anderson did not want to keep a hand +any longer. But that would not be true. And a young man with August's +clear blue eyes was not likely to lie. + +"Vot vor ton't you not shpeak? Can't you virshta blain Eenglish ven you +hears it? Hey? You a'n't no teef vot shteels I shposes, unt you ton't +kit no troonks mit vishky? Vot you too tat you pe shamt of? Pin lazin' +rount? Kon you nicht Eenglish shprachen? Oot mit id do vonst!" + +"I did not do anything to be ashamed of," said August. And yet he looked +ashamed. + +"You tidn't pe no shamt, hey? You tidn't! Vot vor you loogs so leig a +teef in der bentenshry? Vot for you sprachen not mit me ven ich sprachs +der blainest zort ov Eenglish mit you? You kooms sneaggin heim Zaturtay +nocht leig a tog vots kot kigt, unt's got his dail dween his leks; and +ven I aks you in blain Eenglish vot's der madder, you loogs zheepish +leig, und says you a'n't tun nodin. I zay you tun sompin. If you a'n't +tun nodin den, vy don't you dell me vot it is dat you has tun? Hey?" + +[Illustration: GOTTLIEB.] + +All this time August found that it was getting harder and harder to tell +his father the real state of the case. But the old man, seeing that he +prevailed nothing, took a cajoling tone. + +"Koom, August, mine knabe, ton't shtand dare leig a vool. Vot tit +Anterson zay ven he shent you avay?" + +"He said that I'd been seen a-talking to his daughter, Jule Anderson." + +"Vell, you nebber said no hoorm doo Shule, tid you? If I dought you +said vot you zhoodn't zay doo Shule, I vood shust drash you on der +shpot! Tid you gwarl mit Shule, already?" + +"Quarrel with Jule! She's the last person in the world I'd think of +quarreling with. She's as good as--" + +"Oh! you pe in lieb mit Shule! You vool, you! Is dat all dat I raise you +vor? I dells you, unt dells you, unt _dells_ you to sprach nodin put +Deutsche, unt to marry a kood Deutsche vrau vot kood sprach mit you, unt +now you koes right shtraight off unt kits knee-teep in lieb mit a vool +of a Yangee kirl! You doo ant pe doornt off!" + +August's countenance brightened. All the way home he had felt that it +was somehow an unpardonable sin to be a Dutchman. Anderson had spoken +hardly to him in dismissing him, and now it was a great comfort to find +that his father returned the contempt of the Yankees at its full value. +All the conceit was not on the side of the Yankees. It was at least an +open question which was the most disgraced, he or Julia, by their little +love affair. + +But more comforting still was the quiet look of his sweet-faced mother, +who, moving about among her throng of children like a hen with more +chickens than she can hover[1], never forgot to be patient and +affectionate. If there had been a look of reproach on the face of the +mother, it would have been the hardest trial of all. But there was that +in her eyes--the dear Moravian mother--that gave courage to August. The +mother was an outside conscience, and now as Gottlieb, who had lapsed +into German for his wife's benefit, rattled on his denunciation of this +Cannanitish Yankee, with whom his son was in love, the son looked every +now and then into the eyes, the still German eyes of the mother, and +rejoiced that he saw there no reflection of his father's rebuke. The +older Wehle presently resumed his English, such as it was, as better +adapted to scolding. Whether he thought to make his children love German +by abusing them in English, I do not know, but it was his habit. + +[Footnote 1: Not until my attention was called to this word in the proof +did I know that in this sense it is a provincialism. It is so used, at +least in half the country, and yet neither of our American +dictionaries has it.] + +"I dells you tese Yangees is Yangees. Dere neber voz put shust von cood +vor zompin. Antrew Antershon is von. He shtaid mit us ven ve vos all +zick, unt he is zhust so cood as if he was porn in Deutschland. Put all +de rest is Yangees. Marry a Deutsche vrau vot's kot cood sense to ede +kraut unt shleep unter vedder peds ven it's kalt. Put shust led de +Yangees pe Yangees." + +Seeing August put on his hat and go to the door, he called out testily: + +"Vare you koes, already?" + +"Over to the castle." + +"Veil, das is koot. Ko doo de gassel. Antrew vlll dell you vat sorts do +Yangee kirls pe!" + + + +CHAPTER V. + +AT THE CASTLE. + +By the time August reached Andrew Anderson's castle it was dark. The +castle was built in a hollow, looking out toward the Ohio River, a river +that has this peculiarity, that it is all beautiful, from Pittsburgh to +Cairo. Through the trees, on which the buds were just bursting, August +looked out on the golden roadway made by the moonbeams on the river. And +into the tumult of his feelings there came the sweet benediction of +Nature. And what is Nature but the voice of God? + +Anderson's castle was a large log building of strange construction. +Everything about it had been built by the hands of Andrew, at once its +lord and its architect. Evidently a whimsical fancy had pleased itself +in the construction. It was an attempt to realize something of medieval +form in logs. There were buttresses and antique windows, and by an +ingenious transformation the chimney, usually such a disfigurement to a +log-house, was made to look like a round donjon keep. But it was +strangely composite, and I am afraid Mr. Ruskin would have considered it +somewhat confused; for while it looked like a rude castle to those who +approached it from the hills, it looked like something very different to +those who approached the front, for upon that side was a portico with +massive Doric columns, which were nothing more nor less than maple logs. +Andrew maintained that the natural form of the trunk of a tree was the +ideal and perfect form of a pillar. + +To this picturesque structure, half castle, half cabin, with hints of +church and temple, came August Wehle on Saturday evening. He did not go +round to the portico and knock at the front-door as a stranger would +have done, but in behind the donjon chimney he pulled an alarm-cord. +Immediately the head of Andrew Anderson was thrust out of a Gothic +hole--you could not call it a window. His uncut hair, rather darker than +auburn, fell down to his waist, and his shaggy red beard lay upon his +bosom. Instead of a coat he wore that unique garment of linsey-woolsey +known in the West as wa'mus (warm us?), a sort of over-shirt. He was +forty-five, but there were streaks of gray in his hair and board, and he +looked older by ten years. + +"What ho, good friend? Is that you?" he cried. "Come up, and right +welcome!" For his language was as archaic and perhaps as incongruous as +his architecture. And then throwing out of the window a rope-ladder, he +called out again, "Ascend! ascend! my brave young friend!" + +And young Wehle climbed up the ladder into the large upper room. For it +was one peculiarity of the castle that the upper part had no visible +communication with the lower. Except August, and now and then a literary +stranger, no one but the owner was ever admitted to the upper story of +the house, and the neighbors, who always had access to the lower rooms, +regarded the upper part of the castle with mysterious awe. August was +often plied with questions about it, but he always answered simply that +he didn't think Mr. Anderson would like to have it talked about. For the +owner there must have been some inside mode of access to the second +story, but he did not choose to let even August know of any other way +than that by the rope-ladder, and the few strangers who came to see his +books were taken in by the same drawbridge. + +[Illustration: THE CASTLE.] + +The room was filled with books arranged after whimsical associations. +One set of cases, for instance, was called the Academy, and into these +he only admitted the masters, following the guidance of his own +eccentric judgment quite as much as he followed traditional estimate. +Homer, Virgil, Dante, and Milton of course had undisputed possession of +the department devoted to the "Kings of Epic," as he styled them. +Sophocles, Calderon, Corneille, and Shakespeare were all that he +admitted to his list of "Kings of Tragedy." Lope he rejected on literary +grounds, and Goethe because he thought his moral tendency bad. He +rejected Rabelais from his chief humorists, but accepted Cervantes, Le +Sage, Molière, Swift, Hood, and the then fresh Pickwick of Boz. To these +he added the Georgia Scenes of Mr. Longstreet, insisting that they were +quite equal to Don Quixote. I can only stop to mention one other +department in his Academy. One case was devoted to the "Best Stories," +and an admirable set they were! I wish that anything of mine were worthy +to go into such company. His purity of feeling, almost ascetic, led him +to reject Boccaccio, but he admitted Chaucer and some of Balzac's, and +Smollett, Goldsmith, and De Foe, and Walter Scott's best, Irving's Rip +Van Winkle, Bernardin St. Pierre's "Paul and Virginia," and "Three +Months under the Snow," and Charles Lamb's generally overlooked +"Rosamund Gray." There were eases for "Socrates and his Friends," and +for other classes. He had amused himself for years in deciding what +books should be "crowned," as he called it, and what not. And then he +had another case, called "The Inferno." I wish there was space to give a +list of this department. Some were damned for dullness and some for +coarseness. Miss Edgeworth's Moral Tales, Darwin's Botanic Garden, +Rollin's Ancient History, and a hideously illustrated copy of the Book +of Martyrs were in the First-class, Don Juan and some French novels in +the second. Tupper, Swinburne, and Walt Whitman he did not know. + +In the corner next the donjon chimney was a little room with a small +fireplace. Thus the hermit economized wood, for wood meant time, and +time meant communion with his books. All of his domestic arrangements +were carried on after this frugal fashion. In the little room was a +writing-desk, covered with manuscripts and commonplace books. + +"Well, my young friend, you're thrice welcome," said Andrew, who never +dropped his book language. "What will you have? Will you resume your +apprenticeship under Goethe, or shall we canter to Canterbury with +Chaucer? Grand old Dan Chaucer! Or, shall we study magical philosophy +with Roger Bacon--the Friar, the Admirable Doctor? or read good Sir +Thomas More? What would Sir Thomas have said if he could have thought +that he would be admired by two such people as you and I, in the woods +of America, in the nineteenth century? But you do not want books! Ah! my +brave friend, you are not well. Come into my cell and let us talk. What +grieves you?" + +And Andrew took him by the hand with the courtesy of a knight, with the +tenderness of a woman, and with the air of an astrologer, and led him +into the apartment of a monk. + +[Illustration: THE SEDILIUM AT THE CASTLE.] + +"See!" he said, "I have made a new chair. It is the highest evidence of +my love for my Teutonic friend. You have now a right to this castle. You +shall be perpetually welcome. I said to myself, German scholarship shall +sit there, and the Backwoods Philosopher will sit here. So sit down on +my _sedilium_, and let us hear how this uncivil and inconstant world +treats you. It can not deal worse with you than it has with me. But I +have had my revenge on it! I have been revenged! I have done as I +pleased, and defied the world and all its hollow conventionalities." +These last words were spoken in a tone of misanthropic bitterness common +to Andrew. His love for August was the more intense that it stood upon a +background of general dislike, if not for the world, at least for that +portion of it which most immediately surrounded him. + +August took the chair, ingeniously woven and built of rye straw and +hickory splints. He knew that all this formality and apparent pedantry +was superficial. He and Andrew were bosom friends, and as he had often +opened his heart to the master of the castle before, so now he had no +difficulty in telling him his troubles, scarcely heeding the appropriate +quotations which Andrew made from time to time by way of embellishment. + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE BACKWOODS PHILOSOPHER. + +One reason for Andrew's love of August Wehle was that he was a German. +Far from sharing in the prejudices of his neighbors against foreigners, +Andrew had so thorough a contempt for his neighbors, that he liked +anybody who did not belong to his own people. If a Turk had emigrated to +Clark township, Andrew would have fallen in love with him, and built a +divan for his special accommodation. But he loved August also for the +sake of his gentle temper and his genuine love for books. And only +August or August's mother, upon whom Andrew sometimes called, could +exorcise his demon of misanthropy, which he had nursed so long that it +was now hard to dismiss it. + +Andrew Anderson belonged to a class noticed, I doubt not, by every acute +observer of provincial life in this country. In backwoods and +out-of-the-way communities literary culture produces marked +eccentricities in the life. Your bookish man at the West has never +learned to mark the distinction between the world of ideas and the +world of practical life. Instead of writing poems or romances, he falls +to living them, or at least trying to. Add a disappointment in love, and +you will surely throw him into the class of which Anderson was the +representative. For the education one gets from books is sadly +one-sided, unless it be balanced by a knowledge of the world. + +Andrew Anderson had always been regarded as an oddity. A man with a good +share of ideality and literary taste, placed against the dull background +of the society of a Western neighborhood in the former half of the +century, would necessarily appear odd. Had he drifted into communities +of more culture, his eccentricity, begotten of a sense of superiority to +his surroundings, would have worn away. Had he been happily married, his +oddities would have been softened; but neither of these things happened. +He told August a very different history. For the confidence of his +"Teutonic friend" had awakened in the solitary man a desire to uncover +that story which he had kept under lock and key for so many years. + +"Ah! my friend," said he with excitement, "don't trust the faith of a +woman." And then rising from his seat he said, "The Backwoods +Philosopher warns you. I pray you give good heed. I do not know Julia. +She is my niece. It ill becomes me to doubt her sincerity. But I know +whose daughter she is. I pray you give good heed, my Teutonic friend. _I +know whose daughter she is_! + +"I do not talk much. But you have arrived at a critical point--a point +of turning. Out of his own life, out of his own sorrow, the Backwoods +Philosopher warns you. I am at peace now. But look at me. Do you not see +the marks of the ravages of a great storm? A sort of a qualified +happiness I have in philosophy. But what I might have been if the +storm had not torn me to pieces in my youth--what I might have been, +that I am not. I pray you never trust in a woman's keeping the happiness +of your life!" + +[Illustration: "LOOK AT ME."] + +Here Andrew slipped his arm through Wehle's, and began to promenade with +him in the large apartment up and down an alley, dimly lighted by a +candle, between solid phalanxes of books. + +"I pray you give good heed," he said, resuming. "I was always eccentric. +People thought I was either a genius or fool. Perhaps I was much of +both. But this is a digression. I did not pay any attention to women. I +shunned them. I said that to be a great author and a philosophical +thinker, one must not be a man of society. I never went to a +wood-chopping, to an apple-peeling, to a corn-shucking, to a +barn-raising, nor indeed to any of our rustic feasts. I suppose this +piqued the vanity of the girls, and they set themselves to catch me. I +suppose they thought that I would be a trophy worth boasting. I have +noticed that hunters estimate game according to the difficulty of +getting it. But this is a digression. Let us return. + +"There came among us, at that time, Abigail Norman. She was pretty. I +swear by all the sacred cats of Egypt, that she was beautiful. She was +industrious. The best housekeeper in the state! She was high-strung. I +liked her all the more for that. You see a man of imagination is apt to +fall in love with a tragedy queen. But this is a digression. Let +us return. + +"She spread her toils in my path. While I was wandering through the +woods writing poetry to birds and squirrels, Abby Norman was ambitious +enough to hope to make me her slave, and she did. She read books that +she thought I liked. She planned in various ways to seem to like what I +liked, and yet she had sense enough to differ a little from me, and so +make herself the more interesting. I think a man of real intellect never +likes to have a man or woman agree with him entirely. But let us return. + +"I loved Abigail desperately. No, I did not love Abigail Norman at all. +I did not love her as she was, but I loved her as she seemed to my +imagination to be. I think most lovers love an ideal that hovers in the +air a little above the real recipient of their love. And I think we men +of genius and imagination are apt to love something very different from +the real person, which is unfortunate. + +"But I am digressing again. To return: I wrote poetry to Abby. I courted +her. I cut off my long hair for a woman, like Samson. I tried to dress +more decently, and made myself ridiculous no doubt, for a man can not +dress well unless he has a talent for it. And I never had a genius for +beau-knots. + +"But pardon the digression. Let us return. I was to have married her. +The day was set. Then I found accidentally that she was engaged to my +brother Samuel, a young man with better manners than mind. She made him +believe that she was only making a butt of me. But I think she really +loved me more than she knew. When I had discovered her treachery, I +shipped on the first flat-boat. I came near committing suicide, and +should have jumped into the river one night, only that I thought it +might flatter her vanity. I came back here and ignored her. She broke +with Samuel and tried to regain my affections. I scorned her. I trod on +her heart! I stamped her pride into the dust! I was cruel. I was +contemptuous. I was well-nigh insane. Then she went back to Samuel, and +_made_ him marry her. Then she forced my imbecile old father, on his +death-bed, to will all the property to Samuel, except this piece of +rough hill-land and one thousand dollars. But here I built this castle. +My thousand dollars I put in books. I learned how, to weave the +coverlets of which our country people are so fond, and by this means, +and by selling wood to the steamboats, I have made a living and bought +my library without having to work half of my time. I was determined +never to leave. I swore by all the arms of Vishnu she should never say +that she had driven me away. I don't know anything about Julia. But I +know whose daughter she is. My young friend, beware! I pray you take +good heed! The Backwoods Philosopher warns you!" + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +WITHIN AND WITHOUT. + +If the gentleman is not born in a man, it can not be bred in him. If it +is born in him, it can not be bred out of him. August Wehle had +inherited from his mother the instinct of true gentlemanliness. And now, +when Andrew relapsed into silence and abstraction, he did not attempt to +rouse him, but bidding him goodnight, with his own hands threw the +rope-ladder out the window and started up the hollow toward home. The +air was sultry and oppressive, the moon had been engulfed, and the first +thunder-cloud of the spring was pushing itself up toward the zenith, +while the boughs of the trees were quivering with a premonitory shudder. +But August did not hasten. The real storm was within. Andrew's story had +raised doubts. When he went down the ravine the love of Julia Anderson +shone upon his heart as benignly as the moon upon the waters. Now the +light was gone, and the black cloud of a doubt had shut out his peace. +Jule Anderson's father was rich. He had not thought of it before! But +now he remembered how much woodland he owned and how he had two large +farms. Jule Anderson would not marry a poor boy. And a Dutchman! She was +not sincere. She was trifling with him and teasing her parents. Or, if +she were sincere now, she would not be faithful to him against every +tempting offer. And he would have to drive on the rocks, too, as Andrew +had. At any rate, he would not marry her until he stood upon some sort +of equality with her. + +The wind was swaying him about in its fitful gusts, and he rather liked +it. In his anguish of spirit it was a pleasure to contend with the +storm. The wind, the lightning, the sudden sharp claps of thunder were +on his own key. He felt in the temper of old Lear. The winds might blow +and crack their cheeks. + +But it was not alone the suggestions of Andrew that aroused his +suspicions. He now recalled a strange statement that Samuel Anderson +made in discharging him. "You said what you had no right to say about my +wife, in talking to Julia." What had he said? Only that some woman had +not treated Andrew "just right." Who the woman might be he had not known +until his present interview with Andrew. Had Julia been making mischief +herself by repeating his words and giving them a direction he had not +intended? He could not have dreamed of her acting such a part but for +the strange influence of Andrew's strange story. And so he staggered on, +wet to the skin, defying in his heart the lightning and the wind, until +he came to the cabin of his father. Climbing the fence, for there was no +gate, he pulled the latch-string and entered. They were all asleep; the +hard-working family went to bed early. But chubby-faced Wilhelmina, the +favorite sister, had set up to wait for August, and he now found her +fast asleep in the chair. + +"Wilhelmina! wake up!" he said. + +"O August!" she said, opening the corner of one eye and yawning, "I +wasn't asleep. I only--uh--shut my eyes a minute. How wet you are! Did +you go to see the pretty girl up at Mr. Anderson's?" + +"No," said August. + +"O August! she is pretty, and she is good and sweet," and Wilhelmina +took his wet checks between her chubby hands and gave him a sleepy kiss, +and then crept off to bed. + +And, somehow, the faith of the child Wilhelmina counteracted the +skepticism of the and Andrew, and August felt the storm subsiding. + +When he looked out of the window of the loft in which he slept the +shower had ceased as suddenly as it had come, the thunder had retreated +behind the hills, the clouds were already breaking, and the white face +of the moon was peering through the ragged rifts. + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +FIGGERS WON'T LIE + +"Figgers won't lie," said Elder Hankins, the Millerite preacher. "I say +figgers won't lie. When a Methodis' talks about fallin' from grace he +has to argy the pint. And argyments can't be depended 'pon. And when a +Prisbyterian talks about parseverance he haint got the absolute +sartainty on his side. But figgers won't lie noways, and it's figgers +that shows this yer to be the last yer of the world, and that the final +eend of all things is approachin'. I don't ask you to listen to no +'mpressions of me own, to no reasonin' of nobody; all I ask is that you +should listen to the voice of the man in the linen-coat what spoke to +Dan'el, and then listen to the voice of the 'rithmetic, and to a sum in +simple addition, the simplest sort of addition." + +All the Millerite preachers of that day were not quite so illiterate as +Elder Hankins, and it is but fair to say that the Adventists of to-day +are a very respectable denomination, doing a work which deserves more +recognition from others than it receives. And for the delusion which +expects the world to come to an end immediately, the Adventist leaders +are not responsible in the first place. From Gnosticism to Mormonism, +every religious delusion has grown from some fundamental error in the +previous religious teaching of the people. By the narrowly verbal method +of reading the Scripture, so much in vogue in the polemical discussions +of the past generation, and still so fervently adhered to by many +people, the ground was prepared for Millerism. And to-day in many +regions the soil in made fallow for the next fanaticism. It is only a +question of who shall first sow and reap. To people educated as those +who gathered in Sugar Grove school-house had been to destroy the spirit +of the Scripture by distorting the letter in proving their own sect +right, nothing could be so overwhelming as Elder Hankins's "figgers." + +For he had clearly studied figgers to the neglect of the other branches +of a liberal education. His demonstration was printed on a large chart. +He began with the seventy weeks of Daniel, he added in the "time and +times and a half," and what Daniel declared that he "understood not when +he heard," was plain sailing to the enlightened and mathematical mind of +Elder Hankins. When he came to the thousand two hundred and ninety days, +he waxed more exultant than Kepler in his supreme moment, and on the +thousand three hundred and five and thirty days he did what Jonas +Harrison called "the blamedest tallest cipherin' he'd ever seed in all +his born days." + +Jonas was the new hired man, who had stopped into the shoes of August at +Samuel Anderson's. He sat by August and kept up a running commentary, in +a loud whisper, on the sermon, "My feller-citizen," said Jonas, +squeezing August's arm at a climax of the elder's discourse, "My +feller-citizen, looky thar, won't you? He'll cipher the world into +nothin' in no time. He's like the feller that tried to find out the +valoo of a fat shoat when wood was two dollars a cord. 'Ef I can't do it +by substraction I'll do it by long-division,' says he. And ef this +'rithmetic preacher can't make a finishment of this sub_lu_nary speer by +addition, he'll do it by multiplyin'. They's only one answer in his +book. Gin him any sum you please, and it all comes out 1843!" + +Now in all the region round about Sugar Grove school-house there was a +great dearth of sensation. The people liked the prospect of the end of +the world because it would be a spectacle, something to relieve the +fearful monotony of their lives. Funerals and weddings were commonplace, +and nothing could have been so interesting to them as the coming of the +end of the world, as described by Elder Hankins, unless it had been a +first-class circus (with two camels and a cage of monkeys attached, so +that scrupulous people might attend from a laudable desire to see the +menagerie!) A murder would have been delightful to the people of Clark +township. It would have given them something to think and talk about. +Into this still pool Elder Hankins threw the vials, the trumpets, the +thunders, the beast with ten horns, the he-goat, and all the other +apocalyptic symbols understood in an absurdly literal way. The world was +to come to an end in the following August. Here was an excitement, +something worth living for. + +All the way to their homes the people disputed learnedly about the "time +and times and a half," about "the seven heads and ten horns," and the +seventh vial. The fierce polemical discussions and the bold sectarian +dogmatism of the day had taught them anything but "the modesty of true +science," and now the unsolvable problems of the centuries were taken +out of the hands of puzzled scholars and settled as summarily and +positively as the relative merits of "gourd-seed" and "flint" corn. +Samuel Anderson had always planted his corn in the "light" of the moon +and his potatoes in the "dark" of that orb, had always killed his hogs +when the moon was on the increase lest the meat should all go to gravy, +and he and his wife had carefully guarded against the carrying of a hoe +through the house, for fear "somebody might die." Now, the preaching of +the elder impressed him powerfully. His life had always been not so much +a bad one as a cowardly one, and to get into heaven by a six months' +repentance, seemed to him a good transaction. Besides he remembered that +there men were never married, and that there, at last, Abigail would no +longer have any peculiar right to torture him. Hankins could not have +ciphered him into Millerism if his wife had not driven him into it as +the easiest means of getting a divorce. No doom in the next world could +have alarmed him much, unless it had been the prospect of continuing +lord and master of Mrs. Abigail. And as for that oppressed woman, she +was simply scared. She was quite unwilling to admit the coming of the +world's end so soon. Having some ugly accounts to settle, she would fain +have postponed the payday. Mrs. Anderson might truly have been called a +woman who feared God--she had reason to. + +And as for August, he would not have cared much if the world had come to +an end, if only he could have secured one glance of recognition from the +eyes of Julia. But Julia dared not look. The process of cowing her had +gone on from childhood, and now she was under a reign of terror. She did +not yet know that she could resist her mother. And then she lived in +mortal fear of her mother's heart-disease. By irritating her she might +kill her. This dread of matricide her mother held always over her. In +vain she watched for a chance. It did not come. Once, when her mother's +head was turned, she glanced at August. But he was at that moment +listening or trying to listen to one of Jonas Harrison's remarks. And +August, who did not understand the circumstances, was only able to +account for her apparent coldness on the theory suggested by Andrew's +universal unbelief in women, or by supposing that when she understood +his innocent remark about Andrew's disappointment to refer to her +mother, she had taken offense at it. And so, while the rest were +debating whether the world would come to an end or not, August had a +disconsolate feeling that the end of the world had already come. And it +did not make him feel better to have Wilhelmina whisper, "Oh! but she +_is_ pretty, that Anderson girl--a'n't she, August?" + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE NEW SINGING-MASTER + +"He sings like an owlingale!" + +Jonas Harrison was leaning against the well-curb, talking to Cynthy Ann. +He'd been down to the store at Brayville, he said, a listenin' to 'em +discuss Millerism, and seed a new singing-master there. "Could he sing +good?" Cynthy asked, rather to prolong the talk than to get information. + +"Sings like an owlingale, I reckon. He's got more seals to his ministry +a-hanging onto his watch-chain than I ever seed. Got a mustache onto the +top story of his mouth, somethin' like a tuft of grass on the roof of a +ole shed kitchen. Peart? He's the peartest-lookin' chap I ever seed. But +he a'n't no singin'-master--not of I'm any jedge of turnips. He warn't +born to sarve his day and generation with a tunin'-fork. I think he's +a-goin' to reckon-water a little in these parts and that he's only +a-playin' singin'-master. He kin play more fiddles'n one, you bet a +hoss! Says he come up here fer his wholesome, and I guess he did. Think +ef he'd a-staid where he was, he mout a-suffered a leetle from +confinement to his room, and that room p'raps not more nor five foot by +nine, and ruther dim-lighted and poor-provisioned, an' not much chance +fer takin' exercise in the fresh air!" + +[Illustration: "DON'T BE ONCHARITABLE, JONAS."] + +"Don't be oncharitable, Jonas, don't. We're all mis'able sinners, I +s'pose; and you know charity don't think no evil. The man may be all +right, ef he does wear hair on his lip. Charity kivers lots a sins." + +"Ya-as, but charity don't kiver no wolves with wool. An' ef he a'n't a +woolly wolf they's no snakes in Jarsey, as little Ridin' Hood said when +her granny tried to bite her head off. I'm dead sot in favor of charity, +and mean to gin her my vote at every election, but I a'n't a-goin' to +have her put a blind-bridle on to me. And when a man comes to Clark +township a-wearing straps to his breechaloons to keep hisself from +leaving terry-firmy altogether, and a weightin' hisself down with pewter +watch-seals, gold-washed, and a cultivating a crap of red-top hay onto +his upper lip, and a-lettin' on to be a singin'-master, I suspicions +him. They's too much in the git-up fer the come-out. Well, here's yer +health, Cynthy!" + +And having made this oracular speech and quaffed the hard limestone +water, Jonas hung the clean white gourd from which he had been drinking, +in its place against the well-curb, and started back to the field, while +Cynthy Ann carried her bucket of water into the kitchen, blaming herself +for standing so long talking to Jonas. To Cynthy everything pleasant had +a flavor of sinfulness. + +The pail of water was hardly set down in the sink when there came a +knock at the door, and Cynthy found standing by it the strapped +pantaloons, the "red-top" mustache, the watch-seals, and all the rest +that went to make up the new singing-master. He smiled when he saw her, +one of those smiles which are strictly limited to the lower half of the +face, and are wholly mechanical, as though certain strings inside were +pulled with malice aforethought and the mouth jerked out into a square +grin, such as an ingeniously-made automaton might display. + +"Is Mr. Anderson in?" + +"No, sir; he's gone to town." + +"Is Mrs. Anderson in?" + +And so he entered, and soon got into conversation with the lady of the +house, and despite the prejudice which she entertained for mustaches, +she soon came to like him. He smiled so artistically. He talked so +fluently. He humored all her whims, pitied all her complaints, and staid +to dinner, eating her best preserves with a graciousness that made Mrs. +Anderson feel how great was his condescension. For Mr. Humphreys, the +singing-master, had looked at the comely face of Julia, and looked over +Julia's shoulders at the broad acres beyond; and he thought that in +Clark township he had not met with so fine a landscape, so nice a +figure-piece. And with the quick eye of a man of the world, he had +measured Mrs. Anderson, and calculated on the ease with which he might +complete the picture to suit his taste. + +He staid to supper. He smiled that same fascinating square smile on +Samuel Anderson, treated him as head of the house, talked glibly of +farming, and listened better than he talked. He gave no account of +himself, except by way of allusion. He would begin a sentence thus, +"When I was traveling in France with my poor dear mother," etc., from +which Mrs. Anderson gathered that he had been a devoted son, and then he +would relate how he had seen something curious "when he was dining at +the house of the American minister at Berlin." "This hazy air reminds me +of my native mountains in Northern New York." And then he would allude +to his study of music in the Conservatory in Leipsic. To plain country +people in an out-of-the-way Western neighborhood, in 1843, such a man +was better than a lyceum full of lectures. He brought them the odor of +foreign travel, the flavor of city, the "otherness" that +everybody craves. + +[Illustration: THE HAWK.] + +He staid to dinner, as I have said, and to supper. He staid over night. +He took up his board at the house of Samuel Anderson. Who could resist +his entreaty? Did he not assure them that he felt the need of a home in +a cultivated family? And was it not the one golden opportunity to have +the daughter of the house taught music by a private master, and thus +give a special _eclat_ to her education? How Mrs. Anderson hoped that +this superior advantage would provoke jealous remarks on the part of her +neighbors! It was only necessary to the completion of her triumph that +they should say she was "stuck up." Then, too, to have so brilliant a +beau for Julia! A beau with watch-seals and a mustache, a beau who had +been to Paris with his mother, studied music in the Conservatory at +Leipsic, dined with the American minister in Berlin, and done ever so +many more wonderful things, was a prospect to delight the ambitious +heart of Mrs. Anderson, especially as he flattered the mother instead of +the daughter. + +"He's a independent citizen of this Federal Union," said Jonas to +Cynthy, "carries his head like he was intimately 'quainted with the +'merican eagle hisself. He's playin' this game sharp. He deals all the +trumps to hisself, and most everything besides. He'll carry off the gal +if something don't arrest him in his headlong career. Jist let me git a +chance at him when he's soarin' loftiest into the amber blue above, and +I'll cut his kite-string for him, and let him fall like fork-ed +lightnin' into a mud-puddle." + +Cynthy said she did see one great sin that he had committed for sure. +That was the puttin' on of gold and costly apparel. It was sot down in +the Bible and in the Methodist Discipline that it was a sin to wear +gold, and she should think the poor man hadn't no sort o' regard for his +soul, weighing it down with them things. + +But Jonas only remarked that he guessed his jewelry warn't no sin. He +didn't remember nothing agin wearin' pewter. + + + +CHAPTER X. + +AN OFFER OF HELP. + +The singing-master, Mr. Humphreys, went to singing-school and church +with Julia in a matter-of-course way, treating her with attention, but +taking care not to make himself too attentive. Except that Julia could +not endure his smile--which was, like some joint stock companies, +strictly limited--she liked him well enough. It was something to her, in +her monotonous life under the eye of her mother, who almost never left +her alone, and who cut off all chance for communication with August--it +was something to have the unobtrusive attentions of Mr. Humphreys, who +always interested her with his adventures. For indeed it really seemed +that he had had more adventures than any dozen other men. How should a +simple-hearted girl understand him? How should she read the riddle of a +life so full of duplicity--of _multiplicity_--as the life of Joshua +Humphreys, the music-teacher? Humphreys intended to make love to her, +but during the first two weeks he only aimed to gain her esteem. He felt +that there was a clue which he had not got. But at last the key dropped +into his hands, and he felt sure that the unsophisticated girl was in +his power. + +Among the girls that attended Humphreys's singing-school was Betsey +Malcolm, the near neighbor of the Andersons. The singing-master often +saw her at Mr. Anderson's, and he often wished that Julia were as easy +to win as he felt Betsey to be. The sensuous mouth, the giddy eyes of +Betsey, showed quickly her appreciation of every flattering attention he +paid her, and though in Julia's presence he was careful how he treated +her, yet when he, walking down the road one day, alone, met her, he +courted her assiduously. He had not to observe any caution in her case. +She greedily absorbed all the flattery he could give, only pettishly +responding after a while: "O dear! that's the way you talk to me, and +that's the way you talk to Jule sometimes, I s'pose. I guess she don't +mind keeping two of you as strings to her bow." + +"Two! What do you mean, my fair friend? I havn't seen one, yet." + +"Oh, no! You mean you haven't seen two. You see one whenever you look in +the glass. The other is a Dutchman, and she's dying after him. She may +flirt with you, but her mother watches her night and day, to keep her +from running off with Gus Wehle." + +Like many another crafty person, Betsey Malcolm had fairly overshot the +mark. In seeking to separate Humphreys from Julia, she had given him the +clue he desired, and he was not slow to use it, for he was almost the +only person that Mrs. Anderson trusted alone with Julia. + +In the dusk of the evening of the very day of his talk with Betsey, he +sat on the long front-porch with Julia. Julia liked him better, or +rather did not dislike him so much in the dark as she did in the light. +For when it was light she could see him smile, and though she had not +learned to connect a cold-blooded face with a villainous character, she +had that childish instinct which made her shrink from Humphreys's square +smile. It always seemed to her that the real Humphreys gazed at her out +of the cold, glittering eyes, and that the smile was something with +which he had nothing to do. + +Sitting thus in the dusk of the evening, and looking out over the green +pasture to where the nigher hills ceased and the distant seemed to come +immediately after, their distance only indicated by color, though the +whole Ohio "bottom" was between, she forgot the Mephistopheles who sat +not far away, and dreamed of August, the "grand," as she fancifully +called him. And he let her sit and dream undisturbed for a long time, +until the darkness settled down upon the hills. Then he spoke. + +"I--I thought," began Humphreys, with well-feigned hesitancy, "I +thought, I should venture to offer you my assistance as a true and +gallant man, in a matter--a matter of supreme delicacy--a matter that I +have no right to meddle with. I think I have heard that your mother is +not friendly to the suit of a young man who--who--well, let us say who +is not wholly disagreeable to you. I beg your pardon, don't tell me +anything that you prefer to keep locked in the privacy of your own +bosom. But if I can render any assistance, you know. I have some little +influence with your parents, maybe. If I could be the happy bearer of +any communications, command me as your obedient servant." + +Julia did not know what to say. To get a word to August was what she +most desired. But the thought of using Humphreys was repulsive to her. +She could not see his face in the gathering darkness, but she could +_feel_ him smile that same soulless, geometrical smile. She could not do +it. She did not know what to say. So she said nothing. Humphreys saw +that he must begin farther back. + +"I hear the young man spoken of as a praiseworthy person. German, I +believe? I have always noticed a peculiar manliness about Germans. A +peculiar refinement, indeed, and a courtesy that is often wanting in +Americans. I noticed this when I was in Leipsic. I don't think the +German girls are quite so refined. German gentlemen in this country seem +to prefer American girls oftentimes." + +All this might have sounded hollow enough to a disinterested listener. +To Julia the words were as sweet as the first rain after a tedious +drouth. She had heard complaint, censure, innuendo, and downright abuse +of poor Gus. These were the first generous words. They confirmed her +judgment, they comforted her heart, they made her feel grateful, even +affectionate toward the fop, in spite of his watch-seals, his curled +mustache, his straps, his cold eyes, and his artificial smile. Poor fool +you will call her, and poor fool she was. For she could have thrown +herself at the feet of Humphreys, and thanked him for his words. Thank +him she did in a stammering way, and he did not hesitate to repeat his +favorable impressions of Germans, after that. What he wanted was, not to +break the hold of August until he had placed himself in a position to be +next heir to her regard. + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THE COON-DOG ARGUMENT. + +The reader must understand that all this time Elder Hankins continued to +bombard Clark township with the thunders and lightnings of the +Apocalypse, continued to whirl before the dazed imaginations of his +rustic hearers the wheels within wheels and the faces of the living +creatures of 'Zek'el, continued to cipher the world out of existence +according to formulas in Dan'el, marched out the he-goat, made the seven +heads and ten horns of the beast do service over and over again. And all +the sweet mysteries of Oriental imagery, the mystic figures which +unexpounded give so noble a depth to the perspective of Scripture, were +cut to pieces, pulled apart, and explained, as though they were tricks +of legerdemain. Julia was powerfully impressed, not by the declamations +of Hankins, for she had sensibility enough to recoil from his +vivisection of Scripture, though she had been all her life accustomed to +hear it from other than Millerites, but she was profoundly affected by +the excitement about her. Her father, attracted in part by the promise +that there should be no marrying there, had embraced Millerism with all +his heart, and was in such a state of excitement that he could not +attend to his business. Mrs. Anderson was in continual trepidation about +it, though she tried not to believe it. She was on the point of +rebelling and declaring that the world _should_ not come to an end. But +on the whole she felt that the government of the universe was one affair +in which she would have to give up all hope of having her own way. +Meantime there was no increase of religion. Some were frightened out of +their vices for a time, but a passionate terror of that sort is the +worst enemy of true piety. + +"Fer my part," said Cynthy Ann, as she walked home with Jonas, "fer my +part, I don't believe none of his nonsense. John Wesley" (Jonas was a +New-Light, and Cynthy always talked to him about Wesley) "knowed a heap +more about Scripter than all the Hankinses and Millerses that ever was +born, and he knowed how to cipher, too, I 'low. Why didn't he say the +world was goin' to wind up? An' our persidin' elder is a heap better +instructed than Hankins, and he says God don't tell nobody when the +world's goin' to wind up." + +"Goin' to run down, you mean, Cynthy Ann. 'Kordin' to Hankins it's a old +clock gin out in the springs, I 'low. How does Hankins know that +'Zek'el's livin' creeters means one thing more'n another? He talks about +them wheels as nateral as ef he was a wagon-maker fixin' a ole buggy. He +says the thing's a gone tater; no more craps of corn offen the bottom +land, no more electin' presidents of this free and glorious Columby, no +more Fourths, no more shootin' crackers nor spangled banners, no more +nothin'. He ciphers and ciphers, and then spits on his slate and wipes +us all out. Whenever Gabr'el blows I'll b'lieve it, but I won't take +none o' Hankins's tootin' in place of it. I shan't git skeered at no +tin-horns, and as for papaw whistles, why, I say Jericho wouldn't +a-tumbled for no sech music, and they won't fetch down no stars that +air way." + +Here old Gottlieb Wehle, who had just joined the Millerites, came up. +"Yonas, you mags shport of de Piple. Ef dem vaces in der veels, and dem +awvool veels in der veels, and dem figures vot always says aideen +huntert vordy dree, ef dem tond mean sompin awvool, vot does dey mean? +mean? Hey?" + +"My venerated friend and feller-citizen of forren birth," said Jonas, +"you hit the nail on the crown of the head squar, with the biggest sort +ov a sledge-hammer. You gripped a-holt of the truth that air time like +the American bird a-grippin' the arries on the shield. What do they +mean? That's jest the question, and you Millerites allers argies like +the man who warranted his dog to be a good coon-dog, bekase he warn't +good fer nothin' else under the amber blue. Now, my time-honored friend +and beloved German voter, jest let me tell you that _on the coon-dog +principle_ you could a-wound up the trade and traffic of this airth any +time. Fer ef they don't mean 1843, what do they mean? Why, 1842 or 1844, +of course. You don't come no coon-dog argyments over me, not while I +remain sound in wind and limb." + +"Goon-tog! Who zed goon-tog? Ich tidn't, Hankins tidn't, Ze'kel's wision +tidn't zay nodin pout no goon-tog. What's goon-togs cot do too mit de +end of de vorld? Yonas, you pe a vool, maype." + +"The same to yerself, my beloved friend and free and enlightened +feller-citizen. Long may you wave, like a green bay boss, and a +jimson-weed on the sunny side of a board-fence!" + +Gottlieb hurried on, finding Jonas much harder to understand than the +prophecies. + +"I hear the singing-master is goin' to jine," said Cynthy Ann. "Wonder +ef they'll take him with all his seals and straps, and hair on his upper +lip, with the plain words of the Bible agin gold and costly apparel? +Wonder ef he's tuck in, too?" + +"Tuck in? He an't one of that kind. He don't never git tuck in--he tucks +in. He knows which side of his bread's got quince preserves onto it. I +used to run second mate on the Dook of Orleans, and I know his kind. +He'll soar around like a turkey-buzzard fer a while. Presently he'll +'light. He's rusticatin' tell some scrape blows over. An' he'll make +somethin' outen it. Business afore pleasure is his motto. He don't hang +that seducin' grin under them hawky eyes fer nothin'. Wait till the +pious and disinterested example 'lights somewheres. Then look out for +the feathers, won't ye! He won't leave nary bone. But here we air. I +declare, Cynthy, this walk seems _the shortest_, when I'm in superfine, +number-one comp'ny!" + +Cynthy was so pleased with this remark, that she did penance in her mind +for a week afterwards. It was so wicked to enjoy one's self out of +class-meeting! + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +TWO MISTAKES. + +At the singing-school and at the church August waited as impatiently as +possible for some sign of recognition from Julia. He little knew the +fear that beset her. Having seen her hysterical mother prostrated for +weeks by the excitement of a dispute with her father, it seemed to her +that if she turned one look of love and longing toward young Wehle, +whose sweet German voice rang out above the rest in the hymns, she might +kill her mother as quickly as by plunging a knife into her heart. The +steam-doctor, who was the family physician, had warned her and her +father separately of the danger of exciting Mrs. Anderson's most +excitable temper, and now Julia was the slave of her mother's disease. +That lucky hysteria, which the steam-doctor thought a fearful +heart-disease, had given Mrs. Abigail the whip-hand of husband and +daughter, and she was not slow to know her advantage, using her heart in +a most heartless way. + +August could not blame Julia for not writing, for he had tried to break +the blockade by a letter sent through Jonas and Cynthy Ann, but the +latter had found herself so well watched that the note oppressed her +conscience and gave a hangdog look to her face for two weeks before she +got it out of her pocket, and then she put it under the pillow of +Julia's bed, and had reason to believe that the suspicious Mrs. Anderson +confiscated it within five minutes. For the severity of maternal +government was visibly increased thereafter, and Julia received many +reminders of her ingratitude and of her determination to kill her +self-sacrificing mother by her stubbornness. + +"Well," Mrs. Anderson would say, "it's all one to me whether the world +comes to an end or not. I should like to live to see the day of +judgment. But I shan't. No affectionate mother can stand such treatment +as I receive from my own daughter. If Norman was only at home!" + +It is proper to explain here that Norman was her son, in whom she took a +great deal of comfort when he was away, and whom she would have utterly +spoiled by indulgence if he had not been born past spoiling. He was the +only person to whom she was indulgent, and she was indulgent to him +chiefly because he was so weak of will that there was not much glory in +conquering him, and because her indulgence to him was a rod of +affliction to the rest of her family. + +Failing to open communication through Jonas and Cynthy Ann, August found +himself in a desperate strait, and with an impatience common to young +men he unhappily had recourse to Betsey Malcolm. She often visited +Julia, and twice, when Julia was not at meeting, he went home with the +ingenuous Betsey, who always pretended to have something to tell him +"about Jule," and who yet, for the pure love of mischief-making, tried +to make him think as poorly as possible of Julia's sincerity, and who, +from pure love of flirtation, puckered her red lips, and flashed at him +with her sensuous eyes, and sighed and blushed, or rather flushed, while +she sympathized with him in a way that might have been perilous if he +had been an American instead of a constant-hearted "Dutchman," wholly +absorbed with the image of Julia. But, so far as carrying messages was +concerned, Betsey was certainly a non-conductor. She professed never to +be able to run the blockade with any communication of his. She said to +herself that she wasn't going to help Jule Anderson to keep _all_ the +beaus. She meant to capture one or the other of them if she could. And, +indeed, she did not dream how grievous was the wrong she did. For she +could appreciate no other feeling in the matter than vanity, and she +could not see any particular harm in "taking Jule Anderson down a peg." +And so she assured the anxious and already suspicious August that if she +was in his place she should want that singing-master out of the way. +"Some girls can't stand people that wear jewelry and mustaches and +straps and such things. And Mr. Humphreys is very careful of her, won't +let her sit too late on the porch, and is very comforting in his way of +talking to her. And she seems to like it. I tell you what it is, Gus +"--and she looked at him so bewitchingly that the pure and sensitive +August blushed, he could hardly tell why--"I tell you Jule's a nice +girl, and got a nice property back of her, and I hope she won't act like +her mother. And, indeed, I can't hardly believe she will, though the way +she eyes that Humphreys makes me mad." She had suggested the old doubt. +A doubt is dangerous when its face grows familiar, and one recognizes +the "Monsieur Tonson come again." + +And all the message the disinterested and benevolent Betsey bore to +Julia was to tell her exultingly that Gus had twice walked home with +her. And they had had such a nice time! And Julia, girl that she was, +declared indignantly that she didn't care whom he went with; though she +did care, and her eyes and face said so. Thus the tongue sometimes +lies--or seems to lie--when the whole person is telling the truth. The +only excuse for the tongue is that it will not be believed, and it knows +that it will not be believed! It only speaks diplomatically, maybe. But +diplomatic talking is bad. Better the truth. If Jule had known that her +words would be reported to August, she would have bitten out her tongue +rather than to have let it utter words that were only the cry of her +wounded pride. Of course Betsey met August in the road the next morning, +in a quiet hollow by the brook, and told him, sympathizingly, almost +affectionately, that she had begun to talk to Julia about him, and that +Jule had said she didn't care. So while Julia uttered a lie she spoke +the truth, and while. Betsey uttered the truth she spoke a lie, willful, +malicious, and wicked. + +Now, in the mean time, Julia, on her side, had tried to open +communication through the only channel that offered itself. She did not +attempt it by means of Betsey, because, being a woman, she felt +instinctively that Betsey was not to be trusted. But there was only one +other to whom she was allowed to speak, except under a supervision as +complete as it was unacknowledged. That other was Mr. Humphreys. He +evinced a constant interest in her affairs, avowing that he always did +have a romantic desire to effect the union of suitable people, even +though it might pain his heart a little to see another more fortunate +than himself. Julia had given up all hope of communicating by letter, +and she could not bring herself to make any confessions to a man who had +such a smile and such eyes, but to a generous proposition of Mr. +Humphreys that he should see August and open the way for any +communication between them, she consented, scarcely concealing her +eagerness. + +August was not in a mood to receive Humphreys kindly. He hated him by +intuition, and a liking for him had not been begotten by Betsey's +assurances that he was making headway with Julia. August was riding +astride a bag of corn on his way to mill, when Humphreys, taking a +walk, met him. + +"A pleasant day, Mr. Wehle!" + +"Yes," said August, with a courtesy as mechanical as Humphreys's smile. + +The singing-master was rather pleased than otherwise to see that August +disliked him. It suited his purpose, just now to gall Wehle into saying +what he would not otherwise have said. + +"I hear you are in trouble," he proceeded. + +"How so?" + +"Oh! I hear that Mrs. Anderson doesn't like Dutchmen." The smile now +seemed to have something of a sneer in it. + +"I don't know that that is your affair," said August, all his +suspicions, by a sort of "resolution of force," changing into anger. + +"Oh! I beg pardon," with a tone half-mocking. "I did not know but I +might help settle matters. I think I have Mrs. Anderson's confidence; +and I know that I have Miss Anderson's confidence in an unusual degree. +I think a great deal of her. And she thinks me _her friend_ at least. I +thought that there might be some little matters yet unsettled between +you two, and she suggested that maybe there might be something you would +like to say, and that if you would say it to me, it would be all the +same as if it were said to her. She considers that in the relation I +bear to her and the family, a message delivered to me is the same in +effect as if given to her. I told her I did not think you would, as a +gentleman, wish to hold her to any promises that might be irksome to +her now." + +These words were spoken with a coolness and maliciousness of good-nature +quite devilish, and August's fist involuntarily doubled itself to strike +him, if only to make him cease smiling in that villainous rectangular +way. But he checked himself. + +"You are a puppy. Tell _that_ to Jule, if you choose. I shall send her a +release from all obligations, but not by the hand of a rascal!" + +Like all desperadoes, Humphreys was a coward. He could shoot, but he +could not fight, and just now he was affecting the pious or at least the +high moral role, and had left his pistols, brandy-flasks, and the other +necessary appurtenances of a gentleman, locked in his trunk. Besides it +would not at all have suited his purpose to shoot. So in lieu of +shooting he only smiled, as August rode off, that same old geometric +smile, the elements of which were all calculated. He seemed incapable of +any other facial contortion. It expressed one emotion, indeed, about as +well as another, and was therefore as convenient as those pocket-knives +which affect to contain a chest of tools in one. + +[Illustration: "TELL THAT TO JULE."] + +Julia was already stung to jealousy by Betsey Malcolm's +mischief-making, and it did not require much more to put her into a +frenzy. As they walked home from meeting the next night--they had +meeting all nights now, the world would soon end and there was so much +to be done--as they walked home Humphreys contrived to separate Julia +from the rest, and to tell her that he had had a conversation with +young Wehle. + +"It was painful, very painful," he said, "I think I had better not say +any more about it." + +"Why?" asked Julia in terror. + +"Well, I feel that your grief is mine. I have never felt so much +interest in any one before, and I must say that I was grievously +disappointed. This young man is not at all worthy of you." + +"What do you mean?" And there was a trace of indignation in her tone. + +"It does seem to me that the man who has your love should be the +happiest in the world; but he refused to send you any message, and says +that he will soon send you an entire release from all engagement to him. +He showed no tenderness and made no inquiry." + +The weakest woman and the strongest can faint. It is a woman's last +resort. When all else is gone, that remains. Julia drew a sharp quick +breath, and was just about to become unconscious. Humphreys stretched +his arms to catch her, but the sudden recollection that in case she +fainted he would carry her into the house, produced a reaction. She +released herself from his grasp, and hurried in alone, locking her door, +and refusing admittance to her mother. From Humphreys, who had put +himself into a delicate minor key, Mrs. Anderson got such an account of +the conversation as he thought best to give. She then opened and read a +note placed into her hand by a neighbor as she came out from meeting. It +was addressed to Julia, and ran: + +"If all they say is true, you have quickly changed. I do not hold you by +any promises you wish to break. + +"AUGUST WEHLE." + +Mrs. Anderson had no pity. She hesitated not an instant. Julia's door +was fast. But she went out upon the front upper porch, and pushing up +the window of her daughter's room as remorselessly as she had committed +the burglary on her private letter, she looked at her a moment, sobbing +on the bed, and then threw the letter into the room, saying: "It's good +for you. Read that, and see what a fellow your Dutchman is." + +Then Mrs. Anderson sought her couch, and slept with a serene sense, of +having done _her_ duty as a mother, whatever might be the result. + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +THE SPIDER SPINS. + +Julia got up from her bed the moment that her mother had gone. Her first +feeling was that her privacy had been shamefully outraged. A true mother +should honorably respect the reserve of the little child. But Julia was +now a woman, grown, with a woman's spirit. She rose from her bed, and +shut her window with a bang that was meant to be a protest. She then put +the tenpenny nail sometimes used to fasten the window down, in its +place, as if to say, "Come in, if you can." Then she pulled out the +folds of the chintz curtain, hanging on its draw-string half-way up the +window. If there had been any other precaution possible, she would have +taken it. But there was not. + +She took up the note, and read it. Julia was not a girl of keen +penetration. Her training was that of a country life. She did not read +between the lines of August's note, and could only understand that she +was dismissed. Outraged by her mother's tyranny, spurned by her lover, +she stood like a hunted creature, brought to bay, looking for the last +desperate chance for escape. + +Crushed? No. If she had been weaker, if she had been of the quieter, +frailer sort, instead of being, as she was, elastic, impulsive, +recuperative, she might have been crushed. She was wounded in her heart +of hearts, but all her pride and hardihood, of which she had not a +little, had now taken up arms against outrageous fortune. She was stung +at every thought of August and his letter, of Betsey Malcolm and her +victory, of the fact that her mother had read the letter and knew of her +humiliation. And she paced the floor of her room, and resolved to resist +and to be revenged. She would marry anybody, that she might show Betsey +and August they had not broken he heart and that her love did not +go begging. + +O Julia! take care. Many another woman has jumped off that precipice! + +And she would escape from her mother. The indications of affection +adroitly given by Humphreys were all remembered now. She could have him, +and she would. He would take her to Cincinnati. She would have her +revenge all around. I am sorry to show you my heroine in this mood. But +the fairest climes are sometimes subject to the fiercest hurricanes, the +frightfulest earthquakes! + +After an hour the room seemed hot. She pulled back the chintz curtain +and pushed up the window. The blue-grass in the pasture looked cool as +it drank the heavy dews. She climbed through the window on to the long, +old-fashioned upper porch. She sat down upon an old-fashioned settee +with rockers, and began to rock. The motion relieved her nervousness and +fanned her hot cheeks. Yes, she would accept the first respectable lover +that offered. She would go to the city with Humphreys, if he asked her. +It is only fair to say that Julia did not at all consider--she was not +in a temper to consider--what a marriage with Humphreys implied. She +only thought of it on two sides--the revenge upon August and Betsey, +and the escape from a thralldom now grown more bitter than death. True, +her conscience was beginning to awaken, and to take up arms against her +resolve. But nothing could be plainer. In marrying Mr. Humphreys she +should marry a friend, the only friend she had. In marrying him she +would satisfy her mother, and was it not her duty to sacrifice something +to her mother's happiness, perhaps her mother's life? + +[Illustration: TEMPTED.] + +Yes, yes, Julia, a false spirit of self-sacrifice is another path over +the cliff! In such a mood as this all paths lead into the abyss. + +Her mind was made up. She braced her will against all the relentings of +her heart. She wished that Humphreys, who had indirectly declared his +love so often, were there to offer at once. She would accept him +immediately, and then the whole neighborhood should not say that she had +been deserted by a Dutchman. For in her anger she found her mother's +epithets expressive. + +He was there! Was it the devil that planned it? Does he plan all those +opportunities for wrong that are so sure to offer themselves? Humphreys, +having led a life that turned night into day, sat at the farther end of +the long upper porch, smoking his cigar, waiting a bed-time nearer to +the one to which he was accustomed. + +Did he suspect the struggle in the heart of Julia Anderson? Did he guess +that her pride and defiance had by this time reached high-water mark? +Did he divine this from seeing her there? He rose and started in through +the door of the upper hall, the only opening to the porch, except the +window. But this was a feint. He turned back and sat himself down upon +the farther end of the settee from Julia. He understood human nature +perfectly, and had had long practice in making gradual approaches. He +begged her pardon for the bungling manner in which he had communicated +intelligence that must be so terrible to a heart so sensitive! Julia was +just going to declare that she did not care anything for what August +said or thought, but her natural truthfulness checked the transparent +falsehood. She had not gone far enough astray to lie consciously; she +was, as yet, only telling lies to herself. Very gradually and cautiously +did he proceed so as not to "flush the bird." Even as I saw, an hour +ago, a cat creep upon a sparrow with fascinating eyes, and a waving, +snake-like motion of the tail, and a treacherous feline smile upon her +face, even so, cautiously and by degrees, Humphreys felt his way with +velvet paws toward his prey. He knew the opportunity, that once gone +might not come again; he soon guessed that this was the hour and power +of darkness in the soul of Julia, the hour in which she would seek to +flee from her own pride and mortification. And if Humphreys knew how to +approach with a soft tread, very slowly and cautiously, he also +knew--men of his "profession" always know--when to spring. He saw the +moment, he made the spring, he seized the prey. + +"Will you trust your destiny to me, Miss Anderson? You seem beset by +troubles. I have means. I could not but he wholly devoted to your +welfare. Let me help you to flee away from--from all this mortification, +and this--this domestic tyranny. Will you intrust yourself to me?" + +He did not say anything about love. He had an instinctive feeling that +it would not be best. She felt herself environed with insurmountable +difficulties, threatened with agonies worse than death--so they seemed +to her. He simply, coolly opened the door, and bade her easily and +triumphantly escape. Had he said one word of tenderness the reaction +must have set in. + +She was silent. + +"I did hope, by sacrificing all my own hopes, to effect a +reconciliation. But when that young man spoke insulting words about you, +I determined at once to offer you my devoted protection. I ask no more +than you are able to give, your respect Will you accept my life-long +protection as your husband?" + +"Yes!" said the passionate girl in an agony of despair + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +THE SPIDER'S WEB. + +Now that Humphreys had his prey he did not know just what to do with it. +Not knowing what to say, he said nothing, in which he showed his wisdom. +But he felt that saying nothing was almost as bad as saying something. +And he was right. For with people of impulsive temperament reactions are +sudden, and in one minute after Julia had said yes, there came to her +memory the vision of August standing in the barn and looking into her +eyes so purely and truly and loyally, and vowing such sweet vows of +love, and she looked back upon that perfect hour with some such fooling +perhaps as Dives felt looking out of torment across the great gulf into +paradise. Only that Dives had never known paradise, while she had. For +the man or woman that knows a pure, self-sacrificing love, returned in +kind, knows that which, of all things in this world, lies nearest to God +and heaven. There be those who have ears to hear this, and for them is +it written. Julia thought of August's love with a sinking into despair. +But then returned the memory of his faithlessness, of all she had been +compelled to believe and suffer. Then her agony came back, and she was +glad that she had taken a decided step. Any escape was a relief. I +suppose it is under some such impulse that people kill themselves. Julia +felt as though she had committed suicide and escaped. + +Humphreys on his part was not satisfied. I used the wrong figure of +speech awhile ago. He was not a cat with paw upon the prey. He was only +an angler, and had but hooked his fish. He had not landed it yet. He +felt how slender was the thread of committal by which he held Julia. +August had her heart. He had only a word. The slender vantage that he +had, he meant to use adroitly, craftily. And he knew that the first +thing was to close this interview without losing any ground. The longer +she remained bound, the better for him. And with his craft against the +country girl's simplicity it would have fared badly with Julia had it +not been for one defect which always inheres, in a bad man's plots in +such a case. A man like Humphreys never really understands a pure woman. +Certain detached facts he may know, but he can not "put himself in +her place." + +Humphreys remarked with tenderness that Julia must not stay in the night +air. She was too precious to be exposed. This flattery was comforting to +her wounded pride, and she found his words pleasant to her. Had he +stopped here he might have left the field victorious. But it was very +hard for an affianced lover to stop here. He must part from her in some +other way than this if he would leave on her mind the impression that +she was irrevocably bound to him. He stooped quickly with a +well-affected devotion and lifted her hand to kiss it. That act +awakened Julia Anderson. She must have awaked anyhow, sooner or later. +But when one is in the toils of such a man, sooner is better. The touch +of Humphreys's hand and lips sent a shudder through her frame that +Humphreys felt. Instantly there came to her a perception of all that +marriage with a repulsive man signifies. + +Not suicide, but perdition. + +She jerked her hand from his as though he were a snake. + +"Mr. Humphreys, what did I say? I can't have you. I don't love you. I'm +crazy to-night. I must take back what I said." + +"No, Julia. Let me call you _my_ Julia. You must not break my heart." +Humphreys had lost his cue, and every word of tenderness he spoke made +his case more hopeless. + +"I never can marry you--let me go in," she said, brushing past him. Then +she remembered that her door was fast on the inside. She had climbed out +the window. She turned back, and he saw his advantage. + +"I can not release you. Take time to think before you ask it. Go to +sleep now and do not act hastily." He stood between her and the window, +wishing to get some word to which he could hold. + +Julia's two black eyes grew brighter. "I see. You took advantage of my +trouble, and you want to hold me to my words, and you are bad, and +now--_now_ I hate you!" Then Julia felt better. Hate is the only +wholesome thing in such a case. She pushed him aside vigorously, stepped +upon the settee, slipped in at the window, and closed it. She drew the +curtain, but it seemed thin, and with characteristic impulsiveness she +put out her light that she might have the friendly drapery of +darkness about her. She heard the soft--for the first time it seemed +to her stealthy--tread of Humphreys, as he returned to his room. Whether +she swooned or whether she slept after that she never knew. It was +morning without any time intervening, she had a headache and could +scarcely walk, and there was August's note lying on the floor. She read +it again--if not with more intelligence, at least with more suspicion. +She wondered at her own hastiness. She tried to go about the house, but +the excitement of the previous night, added to all she had suffered +beside, had given her a headache, blinding and paralyzing, that sent her +back to bed. + +[Illustration: "NOW I HATE YOU!"] + +And there she lay in that half-asleep, half-awake mood, which a nervous +headache produces. She seemed to be a fly in a web, and the spider was +trying to fasten her. A very polite spider, with that smile which went +half-way up his face but which never seemed able to reach his eyes. He +had straps to his pantaloons, and a reddish mustache, and she shuddered +as he wound his fine webs about her. She tried to shake off the +illusion. But the more absurd an illusion, the more it will not be +shaken off. For see! the spider was kissing her hand! Then she seemed to +have made a great effort and to have broken the web. But her wings were +torn, and her feet were shackled by the fine strands that still adhered. +She could not get them off. Wouldn't somebody help her, even as she had +many a time picked off the webs from a fly's feet out of sheer pity? And +all day she would perpetually return into these half-conscious states +and feel the spider's web about her feet, and ask over and over again if +somebody wouldn't help her to get out of the meshes. + +Toward evening her mother brought her a cup of tea and a piece of +toast, and for the first time in the remembered life of the daughter +made an endeavor to show a little tenderness for her. It was a clumsy +endeavor, for when the great gulf is once fixed between mother and child +it is with difficulty bridged. And finding herself awkward in the new +role, Mrs. Anderson dropped it and resumed her old gait, remarking, as +she closed the door, that she was glad to know that Julia was coming to +her senses, and "had took the right road." For Mrs. Abigail was more +vigorous than grammatical. + +Julia did not see anything significant in this remark at first. But +after a while it came to her that Humphreys must have told her mother of +something that had passed during the preceding night, something on which +this commendation was founded. Then she fell into the same torpor and +was in the same old spider's web, and there was the same spider with the +limited smile and the mustache and the watch-seals and the straps! And +he was trying to fasten her, and she said "yes." And she could see the +little word. The spider caught it and spun it into a web and fastened +her with it. And she could break all the other webs but those woven out +of that one little word from her own lips. That clung to her, and she +could neither fly nor walk. August could not help her--he would not +come. Her mother was helping the spider. Just then Cynthy Ann came along +with her broom. Would she see her and sweep her free? She tried to call +her, but alas! she was a fly. She tried to buzz, but her wings were fast +bound with the webs. She was being smothered. The spider had seized her. +She could not move. He was smiling at her! + +Then she woke shuddering. It was after midnight. + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +THE WEB BROKEN. + +"Poverty," says Béranger, "is always superstitious." So indeed is human +extremity of any sort. Julia's healthy constitution had resisted the +threatened illness, the feverishness had gone with the headache. She +felt now only one thing: she must have a friend. But the hard piousness +of Cynthy Ann's face had never attracted her sympathy. It had always +seemed to her that Cynthy disapproved of her affection quite as much as +her mother did. Cynthy's face had indeed a chronic air of disapproval. A +nervous young minister said that he never had any "liberty" when sister +Cynthy Ann was in his congregation. She seemed averse to all he said. + +But now Julia felt that there was just one chance of getting advice and +help. Had she not in her dream seen Cynthy Ann with a broom? She would +ask help from Cynthy Ann. There must be a heart under her rind. + +But to get to her. Her mother's affectionate vigilance never left her +alone with Cynthy. Perhaps it was this very precaution that had +suggested Cynthy Ann to her as a possible ally. She must contrive to +have a talk with her somehow. But how? There was one way. Black-eyed +people do not delay. Bight or wrong, Julia acted with sharp decision. +Before she had any very definite view of her plan, she had arisen and +slipped on a calico dress. But there was one obstacle. Mr. Humphreys +kept late hours, and he might be on the front-porch. She might meet him +in the hall, and this seemed worse to her than would the chance of +meeting a tribe of Indians. She listened and looked out of her window; +but she could not be sure; she would run the risk. With silent feet and +loud-beating heart she went down the hall to the back upper porch, for +in that day porches were built at the back and front of houses, above +and below. Once on the back-porch she turned to the right and stood by +Cynthy Ann's door. But a new fear took possession of her. If Cynthy Ann +should be frightened and scream! + +[Illustration: AT CYNTHY'S DOOR.] + +"Cynthy! Cynthy Ann!" she said, standing by the bed in the little bare +room which Cynthy Ann had occupied, for five years, but into which she +had made no endeavor to bring one ray of sentiment or one trace +of beauty. + +"Cynthy! Cynthy Ann!" + +Had Cynthy Ann slept anywhere but in the L of the house, her +shriek--what woman could have helped shrieking a little when +startled?--her shriek must have alarmed the family. But it did not. +"Why, child! what are you doing here? You are out of your head, and you +must go back to your room at once." And Cynthy had arisen and was +already tugging at Julia's arm. + +"I a'n't out of my head, Cynthy Ann, and I _won't_ go back to my +room--not until I have had a talk with you." + +"What _is_ the matter, Jule?" said Cynthy, sitting on the bed and +preparing to begin again her old fight between duty and inclination. +Cynthy always expected temptation. She had often said in class-meeting +that temptations abounded on every hand, and as soon as Julia told her +she had a communication to make, Cynthy Ann was sure that she would find +in it some temptation of the devil to do something she "hadn't orter +do," according to the Bible or the Dis_cip_line, strictly construed. +And Cynthy was a "strict constructionist." + +Julia did not find it so easy to say anything now that she had announced +herself as determined to have a conversation and now that her auditor +was waiting. It is the worst beginning in the world for a conversation, +saying that you intend to converse. When an Indian has announced his +intention of having a "big talk," he immediately lights his pipe and +relapses into silence until the big talk shall break out accidentally +and naturally. But Julia, having neither the pipe nor the Indian's +stolidity, found herself under the necessity of beginning abruptly. +Every minute of delay made her position worse. For every minute +increased her doubt of Cynthy Ann's sympathy. + +"O Cynthy Ann! I'm so miserable!" + +"Yes, I told your ma this morning that you was looking mis'able, and +that you had orter have sassafras to purify the blood, but your ma is so +took up with steam-docterin' that she don't believe in nothin' but +corn-sweats and such like." + +"Oh! but, Cynthy, it a'n't that. I'm miserable in my mind. I wish I knew +what to do." + +"I thought you'd made up your mind. Your ma told me you was engaged to +Mr. Humphreys." + +Julia was appalled. How fast the spider spins his web! + +"I a'n't engaged to him, and I hate him. He got me to say yes when I was +crazy, and I believe he brought about the things that make me feel so +nigh crazy. Do you think he's a good man, Cynthy Ann?" + +"Well, no, though I don't want to set in no jedgment on nobody; but I +don't see as how as he kin be good and wear all of them costly apparels +that's so forbid in the Bible, to say nothing of the Dis_cip_line. The +Bible says you must know a tree by its fruits, and I 'low his'n is +mostly watch-seals. I think a good sound conversion at the mourners' +bench would make him strip off some of them things, and put them into +the missionary collection. Though maybe he a'n't so bad arter all, fer +Jonas says that liker'n not the things a'n't gold, but pewter washed +over. But I'm afeard he's wor'ly-minded. But I don't want to be too hard +on a feller-creatur'." + +[Illustration: CYNTHY ANN HAD OFTEN SAID IN CLASS-MEETING THAT +TEMPTATIONS ABOUNDED ON EVERY HAND.] + +"Cynthy, I drempt just now I was a fly and he was a spider, and that he +had me all wrapped up in his web, and that just then you came along +with a broom." + +"That must be a sign," said Cynthy Ann. "It's good you didn't dream +after daylight. Then 'twould a come true. But what about _him?_ I +thought you loved Gus Wehle, and though I'm afeard you're makin' a idol +out o' him, and though I'm afeard he's a onbeliever, and I don't noways +like marryin' with onbelievers, yet I did want to help you, and I +brought a note from him wunst and put it under the head of your bed. I +was afeard then I was doin' what Timothy forbids, when he says not to be +pertakers in other folks's sins, but, you see, how could I help doin' +it, when you was lookin' so woebegone like, and Jonas, he axed me to do +it. It's awful hard to say you won't to Jonas, you know. So I put the +letter there, and I don't doubt your ma mistrusted it, and got a holt +on it." + +"Did he write to me? A'n't he going with that Betsey Malcolm?" + +"Can't be, I 'low. On'y this evenin' Jonas said to me, says he, when I +tole him you was engaged to Mr. Humphreys, says he, in his way, 'The +hawk's lit, has he? That'll be the death of two,' says he, 'fer she'll +die on it, an' so'll poor Gus,' says he. And then he went on to tell as +how as Gus is all ready to leave, and had axed him to tell him of any +news; but he said he wouldn't tell him that. He'd leave him some hope. +Fer he says Gus was mighty nigh distracted to-day, that is yisterday, +fer its most mornin' I 'low." + +Now this speech did Julia a world of good. It showed her that Gus was +not faithless, that she might count on Cynthy, and that Jonas was her +friend, and that he did not like Humphreys. Jonas called him a hawk. +That agreed with her dream. He was a hawk and a spider. + +"But, Cynthy Ann, I got a letter night before last; ma threw it in the +window. In it Gus said he released me. I hadn't asked any release. What +did he mean?" + +"Honey, I wish I could help you. It's that hawk, as Jonas calls him, +that's at the bottom of all this trouble. I don't believe but what he's +told some lies or 'nother. I don't believe but what he's a bad man. I +allers said I didn't 'low no good could come of a man that puts on +costly apparel and wears straps. I'm afeard you're making a idol of Gus +Wehle. Don't do it. Ef you do, God'll take him. Misses Pearsons made a +idol of her baby, a kissin' it and huggin' it every minute, and I said, +says I, Misses Pearsons, you hadn't better make a idol of a perishin' +creature. And sure enough, God tuck it. He's jealous of our idols. But I +can't help helpin' you. You're a onbeliever yet yourself, and I 'low +taint no sin fer you to marry Gus. It's yokin' like with like. I wish +you was both Christians. I'll speak to Jonas. I don't know what I ought +to do, but I'll speak to Jonas. He's mighty peart about sech things, is +Jonas, and got as _good_ a heart as you ever see. And--" + +"Cynth-ee A-ann!" It was the energetic voice of Mrs. Anderson rousing +the house betimes. For the first time Julia and Cynthy Ann noticed the +early light creeping in at the window. They sat still, paralyzed. + +"Cynth-ee!" The voice was now at the top of the stairs, for Mrs. +Anderson always carried the war into Africa if Cynthy did not wake +at once. + +"Answer quick, Cynthy Ann, or she'll be in here!" said Julia, sliding +behind the bed. + +"Ma'am!" said Cynthy Ann, starting toward the door, where she met Mrs. +Abigail. "I'm up," said Cynthy. + +"Well, what makes you so long a-answerin' then? You make me climb the +steps, and you know I may drop down dead of heart-disease any day. I'll +go and wake Jule." + +"Better let her lay awhile," said Cynthy, reproaching herself instantly +for the deception. + +Mrs. Anderson hesitated at the top of the stairs. + +"Jul-yee!" she called. Poor Jule shook from head to foot. "I guess I'll +let her lay awhile; but I'm afraid I've already spoiled the child by +indulgence," said the mother, descending the stairs. She relented only +because she believed Julia was conquered. + +"I declare, child, it's a shame I should be helping you to disobey your +mother. I'm afeard the Lord'll bring some jedgment on us yet." For +Cynthy Ann had tied her conscience to her rather infirm logic. Better to +have married it to her generous heart. But before she had finished the +half-penitent lamentation, Jule was flying with swift and silent feet +down the hall. Arrived in her own room, she was so much relieved as to +be almost happy; and she was none too soon, for her industrious mother +had quickly repented her criminal leniency, and was again climbing the +stairs at the imminent risk of her precarious life, and calling +"Jul-yee!" + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +JONAS EXPOUNDS THE SUBJECT. + +"I 'lowed I'd ketch you here, my venerable and reliable feller-citizen!" +said Jonas as he entered the lower story of Andrew Anderson's castle and +greeted August, sitting by Andrew's loom. It was the next evening after +Julia's interview with Cynthy Ann. "When do you 'low to leave this +terry-firmy and climb a ash-saplin'? To-night, hey? Goin' to the Queen +City to take to steamboat life in hopes of havin' your sperrits raised +by bein' blowed up? Take my advice and don't make haste in the downward +road to destruction, nor the up-hill one nuther. A game a'n't never +through tell it's played out, an' the American eagle's a chicken with +steel spurs. That air sweet singer of Israel that is so hifalugeon he +has to anchor hisself to his boots, knows all the tricks, and is +intimately acquainted with the kyards, whether it's faro, poker, euchre, +or French monte. But blamed ef Providence a'n't dealed you a better +hand'n you think. Never desperandum, as the Congressmen say, fer while +the lamp holds out to burn you may beat the blackleg all to flinders +and sing and shout forever. Last night I went to bed thinkin' 'Umphreys +had the stakes all in his pocket. This mornin' I found he was in a far +way to be beat outen his boots ef you stood yer ground like a man and a +gineological descendant of Plymouth Rock!" + +Andrew stopped his loom, and, looking at August, said: "Our friend Jonas +speaks somewhat periphrastically and euphuistically, and--he'll pardon +me--but he speaks a little ambiguously." + +"My love, I gin it up, as the fish-hawk said to the bald eagle one day. +I kin rattle off odd sayings and big words picked up at Fourth-of-Julys +and barbecues and big meetins, but when you begin to fire off your +forty-pound bomb-shell book-words, I climb down as suddent as Davy +Crockett's coon. Maybe I do speak unbiguously, as you say, but I was +givin' you the biggest talkin' I had in the basket. And as fer my good +news, a feller don't like to eat up all his country sugar to wunst, I +'low. But I says to our young and promisin' friend of German extraction, +beloved, says I, hold onto that air limb a little longer and +you're saved." + +"But, Jonas," said August, spinning Andrew's winding-blade round and +speaking slowly and bitterly, "a man don't like to be trifled with, if +he is a Dutchman!" + +"But sposin' a man hain't been trifled with, Dutchman or no +Dutchman? Sposin' it's all a optical delusion of the yeers? +There's a word fer _you_, Andrew, that a'n't nuther unbiguous +nor peri-what-you-may-call-it." + +"But," said August, "Betsey Malcolm--" + +"_Betsey Malcolm!_" said Jonas. "Betsey Malcolm to thunder!" and then he +whistled. "Set a dog to mind a basket of meat when his chops is +a-waterin' fer it! Set a kingfisher to take keer of a fish-pond! Set a +cat to raisin' your orphan chickens on the bottle! Set a spider to nuss +a fly sick with dyspepsy from eatin' too much molasses! I'd ruther trust +a hen-hawk with a flock of patridges than to trust Betsey Malcolm with +your affairs. I ha'n't walked behind you from meetin' and seed her head +a bobbin' like a bluebird's and her eyes a blazin an' all that, fer +nothin'. Like as not, Betsey Malcolm's more nor half your trouble in +that quarter." + +"But she said--" + +"It don't matter three quarters of a rotten rye-straw what she said, my +inexper'enced friend. She don't keer what she says, so long as it's fur +enough away from the truth to sarve her turn. An' she's told pay-tent +double-back-action lies that worked both ways. What do you 'low Jule +Anderson tho't when she hearn tell of your courtin' Betsey, as Betsey +told it, with all her nods an' little crowin'? Now looky here, Gus, I'm +your friend, as the Irishman said to the bar that hugged him, an' I want +to say about all that air that Betsey told you, spit on the slate an' +wipe that all off. They's lie in her soap an.' right smart chance of +saft-soap in her lie, I 'low." + +These rough words of Jonas brought a strange intelligence into the mind +of August. He saw so many things in a moment that had lain under his +eyes unnoticed. + +"There is much rough wisdom in your speech, Jonas," said Andrew. + +"That's a fact. You and me used to go to school to old Benefield +together when I was little and you was growed up. You allers beat +everybody all holler in books and spellin'-matches, Andy. But I 'low I +cut my eye-teeth 'bout as airly as some of you that's got more larnin' +under your skelp. Now, I say to our young friend and feller-citizen, +don't go 'way tell you've spoke a consolin' word to a girl as'll stick +to you tell the hour and article of death, and then remains yours truly +forever, amen." + +[Illustration: JONAS.] + +"How do you know that, Jonas?" said August, smiling in spite of himself. + +"How do I know it? Why, by the testimony of a uncorrupted and +disinterested witness, gentlemen of the jury, if the honorable court +pleases. What did that Jule Anderson do, poor thing, but spend some +time making a most onseasonable visit to Cynthy Ann last night? And I +'low ef there's a ole gal in this sublunary spear as tells the truth in +a bee-line and no nonsense, it's that there same, individooal, identical +Cynthy Ann. She's most afeard to drink cold water or breathe fresh air +fer fear she'll commit a unpard'nable sin. And that persecuted young +pigeon that thought herself forsooken, jest skeeted into Cynthy Ann's +budwoir afore daybreak this mornin' and told her all her sorrows, and +how your letter and your goin' with that Betsey Malcolm"--here August +winced--"had well nigh druv her to run off with the straps and +watch-seals to get rid of you and Betsey and her precious and mighty +affectionate ma." + +"But she won't look at me in meeting, and she sent Humphreys to me with +an insulting message." + +"Which text divides itself into two parts, my brethren and +feller-travelers to etarnity. To treat the last head first, beloved, I +admonish you not to believe a blackleg, unless it's under sarcumstances +when he's got onusual and airresistible temptations to tell the truth. I +don't advise yer to spit on the slate and rub it out in this case. Break +the slate and throw it away. To come to the second pertikeler, which is +the first in the order of my text, my attentive congregation. She didn't +look at you in meetin'. Now, I 'spose you don't know nothin' of her +mother's heart-disease. Heart-disease is trumps with Abigail Anderson. +She plays that every turn. Just think of a young gal who thinks that ef +she looks at her beau when her mother's by, she might kill her +invalooable parient of heart-disease. Fer my part, I don't take no stock +in Mrs. Abby Anderson's dyin' of heart-disease, no ways. Might as well +talk about a whale dyin' of footrot." + +"Well, Jonas, what counsel do you give our young friend? Your sagacity +is to be depended on." + +"Why, I advise him to speak face to face with the angel of his life. Let +him climb into my room to-night. Leave meetin' jest afore the +benediction--he kin do without that wunst--and go double-quick acrost +the fields, and git safe into my stoodio. Ferther pertikelers when the +time arrives." + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +THE WRONG PEW. + +August's own good sense told him that the advice of Jonas was not good. +But he had made many mistakes of late, and was just now inclined to take +anybody's judgment in place of his own. All that was proud and +gentlemanly in him rebelled at the thought of creeping into another +man's house in the night. Modesty is doubtless a virtue, but it is a +virtue responsible for many offenses. Had August not felt so distrustful +of his own wisdom, nothing could have persuaded him to make his love for +Julia Anderson seem criminal by an action so wanting in dignity. But +back of Jonas's judgment was that of Andrew, whose weakness was +Quixotism. He wanted to live and to have others live on the +concert-pitch of romantic action. There was something of chivalry in the +proposal of Jonas, a spice of adventure that made him approve it on +purely sentimental grounds. + +The more August thought of it, and the nearer he was to its execution, +the more did he dislike it. But I have often noticed that people of a +rather quiet temperament, such as young Wehle's, show _vis inertiae_ in +both, ways--not very easily moved, they are not easily checked when once +in motion. August's velocity was not usually great, his momentum was +tremendous, and now that he had committed himself to the hands of Jonas +Harrison and set out upon this enterprise, he was determined, in his +quiet way, to go through to the end. + +Of course he understood the house, and having left the family in +meeting, he had nothing to do but to scale one of the pillars of the +front-porch. In those Arcadian days upper windows were hardly ever +fastened, except when the house was deserted by all its inmates for +days. Half-way up the post he was seized with a violent trembling. His +position brought to him a confused memory of a text of Scripture: "He +that entereth not by the door ... but climbeth up some other way, the +same is a thief and a robber." Bred under Moravian influence, he +half-believed the text to be supernaturally suggested to him. For a +moment his purpose wavered, but the habit of going through with an +undertaking took the place of his will, and he went on blindly, as Baker +the Nile explorer did, "more like a donkey than like a man." Once on the +upper porch he hesitated again. To break into a man's house in this way +was unlawful. His conscience troubled him. In vain he reasoned that Mrs. +Anderson's despotism was morally wrong, and that this action was right +as an offset to it. He knew that it was not right. + +I want to remark here that there are many situations in life in which a +conscience is dreadfully in the way. There are people who go straight +ahead to success--such as it is--with no embarrassments, no fire in the +rear from any scruples. Some of these days I mean to write an essay on +"The Inconvenience of having a Conscience," in which I shall proceed to +show that it costs more in the course of a year or two, than it would to +keep a stableful of fast horses. Many a man could afford to drive +Dexters and Flora Temples who would be ruined by a conscience. But I +must not write the essay here, for I am keeping August out in the night +air and his perplexity all this time. + +August Wehle had the habit, I think I have said, of going through with +an enterprise. He had another habit, a very inconvenient habit +doubtless, but a very manly one, of listening for the voice of his +conscience. And I think that this habit would have even yet turned him +back, as he had his hand on the window-sash, had it not been that while +he stood there trying to find out just what was the decision of his +conscience, he heard the voices of the returning family. There was no +time to lose, there was no shelter on the porch, in a minute more they +would be in sight. He must go ahead now, for retreat was cut off. He +lifted the window and climbed into the room, lowering the sash gently +behind him. As no one ever came into this room but Jonas, he felt safe +enough. Jonas would plan a meeting after midnight in Cynthy Ann's room, +and in Cynthy Ann's presence. + +In groping for a chair, August drew aside the curtain of the +gable-window, hoping to get some light. Had Jonas taken to cultivating +flowers in pots? Here was a "monthly" rose on the window-seat! Surely +this was the room. He had occupied it during his stay in the house. But +he did not know that Mrs. Anderson had changed the arrangement between +his leaving and the coming of Jonas. He noticed that the curtains were +not the same. He trembled from head to foot. He felt for the bureau, and +recognized by various little articles, a pincushion, a tuck-comb, and +the sun-bonnet hanging against the window-frame, that he was in Julia's +room. His first emotion was not alarm. It was awe, as pure and solemn as +the high-priest may have felt in the holy place. Everything pertaining +to Julia had a curious sacredness, and this room was a temple into which +it was sacrilege to intrude. But a more practical question took his +attention soon. The family had come in below, except Jonas and Cynthy +Ann--who had walked slowly, planning a meeting for August--and Mr. +Samuel Anderson, who stood at the front-gate with a neighbor. August +could hear his shrill voice discussing the seventh trumpet and the +thousand three hundred and thirty and five days. It would not do to be +discovered where he was. Beside the fright he would give to Julia, he +shuddered at the thought of compromising her in such a way. To go back +was to insure his exposure, for Samuel Anderson had not yet half-settled +the question of the trumpets. Indeed it seemed to August that the world +might come to an end before that conversation would. He heard Humphreys +enter his room. He was now persuaded that the room formerly occupied by +Julia must be Jonas's, and he determined to get to it if he could. He +felt like a villain already. He would have cheerfully gone to +State's-prison in preference to compromising Julia. At any rate, he +started out of Julia's room toward the one that was occupied by Jonas. +It was the only road open, and but for an unexpected encounter he would +have reached his hiding-place in safety, for the door was but fifteen +feet away. + +In order to explain the events that follow, I must ask the reader to go +back to Julia, and to events that had occurred two hours before. +Hitherto she had walked to and from meeting and "singing" with +Humphreys, as a matter of courtesy. On the evening in question she had +absolutely refused to walk with him. Her mother found that threats were +as vain as coaxing. Even her threat of dying with heart-disease, then +and there, killed by her daughter's disobedience, could not move Julia, +who would not even speak with the "spider." Her mother took her into the +sitting-room alone, and talked with her. + +"So this is the way you trifle with gentlemen, is it? Night before last +you engaged yourself to Mr. Humphreys, now you won't speak to him. To +think that my daughter should prove a heartless flirt!" + +I am afraid that the unfilial thought came into Julia's mind that +nothing could have been more in the usual order of things than that the +daughter of a coquette should be a flirt. + +"You'll kill me on the spot; you certainly will." Julia felt anxious, +for her mother showed signs of going into hysterics. But she put her +foot out and shook her head in a way that said that all her friends +might die and all the world might go to pieces before she would yield. +Mrs. Anderson had one forlorn hope. She determined to order that +forward. Leaving Julia alone, she went to her husband. + +"Samuel, if you value my life go and speak to your daughter. She's got +your own stubbornness of will in her. She is just like you; she _will_ +have her own way. I shall die." And Mrs. Abigail Anderson sank into a +chair with unmistakable symptoms of a hysterical attack. + +I am aware that I have so far let the reader hear not one word of Samuel +Anderson's conversation. He has played a rather insignificant part in +the story. Nothing could be more _comme il faut_. Insignificance was his +characteristic. It was not so much that he was small. It is not so bad a +thing to be a little man. But to be little and insignificant also is +bad. There is only one thing worse, which is to be big and +insignificant. If one is little and insignificant, one may be +overlooked, insignificance and all. But if one is big and insignificant, +it is to be an obtrusive cipher, a great lubber, not easily kept out +of sight. + +Appealed to by his wife, Samuel Anderson prepared to assert his +authority as the head of the family. He almost strutted into Julia's +presence. Julia had a real affection for her father, and nothing +mortified her more than to see him acting as a puppet, moved by her +mother, and yet vain enough to believe himself independent and supreme. +She would have yielded almost any other point to have saved herself the +mortification of seeing her father act the fool; but now she had +determined that she would die and let everybody else die rather than +walk with a man whose nature seemed to her corrupt, and whose touch was +pollution. I do not mean that she was able to make a distinct inventory +of her reasons for disliking him, or to analyze her feelings. She could +not have told just why she had so deep and utter a repugnance to walking +a quarter of a mile to the school-house in company with this man. She +followed that strong instinct of truth and purity which is the +surest guide. + +"Julia, my daughter," said Samuel Anderson, "really you must yield to me +as head of the house, and treat this gentleman politely. I thought you +respected him, or loved him, and he told me that you had given consent +to marry him, and had told him to ask my consent." + +In saying this, the "head of the house" was seesawing himself backward +and forward in his squeaky boots, speaking in a pompous manner, and with +an effort to swell an effeminate voice to a bass key, resulting in +something between a croak and a squeal. Julia sat down and cried in +mortification and disgust. Mr. Anderson understood this to be +acquiescence, and turned and went into the next room. + +[Illustration: JULIA SAT DOWN IN MORTIFICATION.] + +"Mr. Humphreys, my daughter will be glad to ask your pardon. She is over +her little pet; lovers always have pets. Even my wife and I have had our +disagreements in our time. Julia will be glad to see you in the +sitting-room." + +Humphreys drew the draw-strings and set his face into its broadest and +most parallelogrammatic smile, bowed to Mr. Anderson, and stepped into +the hall. But when he reached the sitting-room door he wished he had +staid away. Julia had heard his tread, and was standing again with her +foot advanced. Her eyes were very black, and were drawn to a sharp +focus. She had some of her mother's fire, though happily none of her +mother's meanness. It is hard to say whether she spoke or hissed. + +"Go away, you spider! I hate you! I told you I hated you, and you told +people I loved you and was engaged to you. Go away! You detestable +spider, you! I'll die right here, but I will not go with you." + +But the smirking Humphreys moved toward her, speaking soothingly, and +assuring her that there was some mistake. Julia dashed past him into the +parlor and laid hold of her father's arm. + +"Father, protect me from that--that--spider! I hate him!" + +Mr. Anderson stood irresolute a moment and looked appealingly to his +wife for a signal. She solved the difficulty herself. On the whole she +had concluded not to die of heart-disease until she saw Julia married to +suit her taste, and having found a hill she could not go through, she +went round. Seizing Julia's arm with more of energy than affection, she +walked off with her, or rather walked her off, in a sulky silence, while +Mr. Anderson kept Humphreys company. + +I thought best to keep August standing in the door of Julia's room all +this time while I explained these things to you, so that you might +understand what follows. In reality August did not stop at all, but +walked out into the hall and into difficulty. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +THE ENCOUNTER. + +Just before August came out of the door of Julia's room he had heard +Humphreys enter his room on the opposite side of the hall. Humphreys had +lighted his cigar and was on his way to the porch to smoke off his +discomfiture when he met August coming out of Julia's door on the +opposite side of the hall. The candle in Humphreys's room threw its +light full on August's face, there was no escape from recognition, and +Wehle was too proud to retreat. He shut the door of Julia's room and +stood with back against the wall staring at Humphreys, who did not +forget to smile in his most aggravating way. + +"Thief! thief!" called Humphreys. + +In a moment Mrs. Anderson and Julia ran up the stairs, followed by Mr. +Anderson, who hearing the outcry had left the matter of the Apocalypse +unsettled, and by Jonas and Cynthy Ann, who had just arrived. + +"I knew it," cried Mrs. Anderson, turning on the mortified Julia, "I +never knew a Dutchman nor a foreigner of any sort that wouldn't steal. +Now you see what you get by taking a fancy to a Dutchman. And now _you_ +see"--to her husband--"what _you_ get by taking a Dutchman into your +house. I always wanted you to hire white men and not Dutchmen +nor thieves!" + +"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Anderson," said August, with very white lips, +"I am not a thief." + +"Not a thief, eh? What was he doing, Mr. Humphreys, when you first +detected him?" + +"Coming out of Miss Anderson's room," said Humphreys, smiling politely. + +"Do you invite gentlemen to your room?" said the frantic woman to Julia, +meaning by one blow to revenge herself and crush the stubbornness of her +daughter forever. But Julia was too anxious about August to notice the +shameless insult. + +"Mrs. Anderson, this visit is without any invitation from Julia. I did +wrong to enter your house in this way, but I only am responsible, and I +meant to enter Jonas's room. I did not know that Julia occupied this +room. I am to blame, she is not." + +"And what did you break in for if you didn't mean to steal? It is all +off between you and Jule, for I saw your letter. I shall have you +arrested to-morrow for burglary. And I think you ought to be searched. +Mr. Humphreys, won't you put him out?" + +Humphreys stopped forward toward August, but he noticed that the latter +had a hard look in his eyes, and had two stout German fists shut very +tight. He turned back. + +"These thieves are nearly always armed. I think I had best get a pistol +out of my trunk." + +"I have no arms, and you know it, coward," said August. "I will not be +put out by anybody, but I will go out whenever the master of this +house asks me to go out, and the rest of you open a free path." + +[Illustration: "GOOD-BY!"] + +"Jonas, put him out!" screamed Mrs. Anderson. + +"Couldn't do it," said Jonas, "couldn't do it ef I tried. They's too +much bone and sinnoo in them arms of his'n, and moreover he's a +gentleman. I axed him to come and see me sometime, and he come. He come +ruther late it's true, but I s'pose he thought that sence we got sech a +dee-splay of watch-seals and straps we had all got so stuck up, we +wouldn't receive calls afore fashionable hours. Any way, I 'low he +didn't mean no harm, and he's my visitor, seein' he meant to come into +my winder, knowin' the door was closed agin him. And he won't let no man +put him out, 'thout he's a man with more'n half a dozen watch-seals onto +him, to give him weight and influence." + +"Samuel, will you see me insulted in this way? Will you put this burglar +out of the house?" + +The "head of the house," thus appealed to, tried to look important; he +tried to swell up his size and his courage. But he did not dare +touch August. + +"Mr. Anderson, I beg _your_ pardon. I had no right to come In as I did. +I had no right so to enter a gentleman's house. If I had not known that +this cowardly fop--I don't know what _else_ he may be--was injuring me +by his lies I should not have come in. If it is a crime to love a young +lady, then I have committed a crime. You have only to exercise your +authority as master of this house and ask me to go." + +"I do ask you to go, Mr. Wehle." + +It was the first time that Samuel Anderson had ever called him Mr. +Wehle. It was an involuntary tribute to the dignity of the young man, as +he stood at bay. "Mr. Wehle, _indeed_!" said Mrs. Anderson. + +August had hoped Julia would say a word in his behalf. But she was too +much, cowed by her mother's fierce passion. So like a criminal going to +prison, like a man going to his own funeral, August Wehle went down the +hall toward the stairs, which were at the back of it. Humphreys +instinctively retreated into his room. Mrs. Anderson glared on the young +man as he went by, but he did not turn his head even when he passed +Julia. His heart and hope were all gone; in his mortification and defeat +there seemed to him nothing left but his unbroken pride to sustain him. +He had descended two or three steps, when Julia suddenly glided forward +and said with a tremulous voice: "You aren't going without telling me +good-by, August?" + +"Jule Anderson! what do you mean?" cried her mother. But the hall was +narrow by the stairway, and Jonas, by standing close to Cynthy Ann, in +an unconscious sort of a way managed to keep Mrs. Anderson back; else +she would have laid violent hands on her daughter. + +When August lifted his eyes and saw her face full of tenderness and her +hand reached over the balusters to him, he seemed to have been suddenly +lifted from perdition to bliss. The tears ran unrestrained upon his +cheeks, he reached up and took her hand. + +"Good-by, Jule! God bless you!" he said huskily, and went out into the +night, happy in spite of all. + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +THE MOTHER. + +Out of the door he went, happy in spite of all the mistakes he had made +and of all the _contretemps_ of his provoking misadventure; happy in +spite of the threat of arrest for burglary. For nearly a minute August +Wehle was happy in that perfect way in which people of quiet tempers are +happy--happy without fluster. But before he had passed the gate, he +heard a scream and a wild hysterical laugh; he heard a hurrying of feet +and saw a moving of lights. He would fain have turned back to find out +what the matter was, he had so much of interest in that house, but he +remembered that he had been turned out and that he could not go back. +The feeling of outlawry mingled its bitterness with the feeling of +anxiety. He feared that something had happened to Julia; he lingered and +listened. Humphreys came out upon the upper porch and looked sharply up +and down the road. August felt instinctively that he was the object of +search and slunk into a fence-corner, remembering that he was now a +burglar and at the mercy of the man whose face was enough to show him +unrelenting. + +Presently Humphreys turned and went in, and then August came out of the +shadow and hurried away. When he had gone a mile, he heard the hoofs of +horses, and again he concealed himself with a cowardly feeling he had +never known before. But when he found that it was Jonas, riding one +horse and leading another, on his way to bring Dr. Ketchup, the +steam-doctor, he ran out. + +"Jonas! Jonas! what's the matter? Who's sick? Is it Julia?" + +"I'll be bound you ax fer Jule first, my much-respected comrade. But +it's only one of the ole woman's conniption fits, and you know she's got +nineteen lives. People of the catamount sort always has. You'd better +gin a thought to yourself now. I got you into this scrape, and I mean to +see you out, as the dog said to the 'possum in its hole. Git up onto +this four-legged quadruped and go as fur as I go on the road to peace +and safety. Now, I tell you what, the hawk's got a mighty good purchase +onto you, my chicken, and he's jest about to light, and when he lights, +look out fer feathers! Don't sleep under the paternal shingles, as they +say. Go to Andrew's castle, and he'll help you git acrost the river into +the glorious State of ole Kaintuck afore any warrant can be got out fer +takin' you up. Never once thought of your bein' took up. But don't +delay, as the preachers say. The time is short, and the human heart is +desperately wicked and mighty deceitful and onsartain." + +As far as Jonas traveled his way, he carried August upon the gray horse. +Then the latter hurried across the fields to his father's cabin. Little +Wilhelmina sat with face against the window waiting his return. + +"Where did you go, August? Did you see the pretty girl at Anderson's?" + +He stooped and kissed her, but, without speaking a word to her, he went +over to where his mother sat darning the last of her basket of +stockings. All the rest were asleep, and having assured himself of this, +he drew up a low chair and leaned his elbow on his knee and hi head on +his hand, and told the whole adventure of the evening to his mother, and +then dropped his head on her lap and wept in a still way. And the +sweet-eyed, weary Moravian mother laid her two hands upon his head and +prayed. And Wilhelmina knelt instinctively by the side of her brother. + +[Illustration: THE MOTHER'S BLESSING.] + +Perhaps there is no God. Or perhaps He is so great that our praying has +no effect. Perhaps this strong crying of our hearts to Him in our +extremity is no witness of his readiness to hear. Let him live in doubt +who can. Let me believe that the tender mother-heart and the loving +sister-heart in that little cabin _did_ reach up to the great Heart that +is over us all in Fatherly love, did find a real comfort for themselves, +and did bring a strength-giving and sanctifying something upon the head +of the young man, who straightway rose up refreshed, and departed out +into the night, leaving behind him mother and sister straining their +eyes after him in the blackness, and carrying with him thoughts and +memories, and--who shall doubt?--a genuine heavenly inspiration that +saved him in the trials in which we shall next meet him. + +At two o'clock that night August Wehle stood upon the shore of the Ohio +in company with Andrew Anderson, the Backwoods Philosopher. Andrew waved +a fire-brand at the steamboat "Isaac Shelby," which was coming round the +bend. And the captain tapped his bell three times and stopped his +engines. Then the yawl took the two men aboard, and two days afterward +Andrew came back alone. + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +THE STEAM-DOCTOR. + +To return to the house of Samuel Anderson. + +Scarcely had August passed out the door when Mrs. Anderson fell into a +fit of hysterics, and declared that she was dying of heart-disease. Her +time had come at last! She was murdered! Murdered by her own daughter's +ingratitude and disobedience! Struck down in her own house! And what +grieved her most was that she should never live to see the end of +the world! + +And indeed she seemed to be dying. Nothing is more frightful than a good +solid fit of hysterics. Cynthy Ann, inwardly condemning herself as she +always did, lifted the convulsed patient, who seemed to be anywhere in +her last ten breaths, and carried her, with Mr. Anderson's aid, down to +her room, and while Jonas saddled the horse, Mr. Anderson put on his hat +and prepared to go for the doctor. + +"Samuel! O Sam-u-el! Oh-h-h-h-h!" cried Mrs. Anderson, with rising and +falling inflections that even patient Dr. Rush could never have +analyzed, laughing insanely and weeping piteously in the same breath, in +the same word; running it up and down the gamut in an uncontrolled and +uncontrollable way; now whooping like a savage, and now sobbing like the +last breath of a broken-hearted. "Samuel! Sam-u-el! O Samuel! Ha! ha! +ha! h-a-a! Oh-h-h-h-h-h-h! You won't leave me to die alone! After the +wife I've been to you, you won't leave me to die alone! No-o-o-o-o! +HOO-HOO-oo-OO! You musn't. You shan't. Send Jonas, and you stay by me! +Think--" here her breath died away, and for a moment she seemed really +to be dying. "Think," she gasped, and then sank away again. After a +minute she opened her eyes, and, with characteristic pertinacity, took +up the sentence just where she had left off. She had carefully kept her +place throughout the period of unconsciousness. But now she spoke, not +with a gasp, but in that shrill, unnatural falsetto so characteristic of +hysteria; that voice--half yell--that makes every nerve of the listener +jangle with the discord. "Think, oh-h-h Samuel! why won't you think what +a wife I've been to you? Here I've drudged and scrubbed and scrubbed and +drudged all these years like a faithful and industrious wife, never +neglecting my duty. And now--oh-h-h-h--now to be left alone in my--" +Here she ceased to breathe again for a while. "In my last hours to die, +to die! to die with, out--without--Oh-h-h!" What Mrs. Anderson was left +to die without she never stated. Mr. Anderson had beckoned to Jonas when +he came in, and that worthy had gone off in a leisurely trot to get the +"steam-doctor." + +[Illustration: "CORN-SWEATS AND CALAMUS."] + +Dr. Ketchup had been a blacksmith, but bard work disagreed with his +constitution. He felt that he, was made for something better than +shoeing horses. This ambitious thought was first suggested to him by the +increasing portliness of his person, which, while it made stooping over +a horse's hoof inconvenient, also impressed him with the fact that his +aldermanic figure would really adorn a learned profession. So he bought +one of those little hand-books which the founder of the Thomsonian +system sold dirt-cheap at twenty dollars apiece, and which told how to +cure or kill in every case. The owners of these important treasures of +invaluable information were under bonds not to disclose the profound +secrets therein contained, the fathomless wisdom which taught them how +to decide in any given case whether ginseng or a corn-sweat was the +required remedy. And the invested twenty dollars had brought the shrewd +blacksmith a handsome return. + +"Hello!" said Jonas in true Western style, as he reined up in front of +Dr. Ketchup's house in the outskirts of Brayville. "Hello the house!" +But Dr. Ketchup was already asleep. "Takes a mighty long time to wake up +a fat man," soliloquized Jonas. "He gits so used to hearin' hisself +snore that he can't tell the difference 'twixt snorin' and thunder. +Hello! Hello the house! I say, hello the blacksmith-shop! Dr. Ketchup, +why don't you git up? Hello! Corn-sweats and calamus! Hello! Whoop! +Hurrah for Jackson and Dr. Ketchup! Hello! Thunderation! Stop thief! +Fire! Fire! Fire! Murder! Murder! Help! Help! Hurrah! Treed the coon +at last!" + +This last exclamation greeted the appearance of Dr. Ketchup's head at +the window. + +"Are you drunk, Jonas Harrison? Go 'way with your hollering, or I'll +have you took up," said Ketchup. + +"You'll find that tougher work than making horseshoes any day, my +respectable friend and feller-citizen. I'll have you took up fer +sleeping so sound and snorin' so loud as to disturb all creation and the +rest of your neighbors. I've heard you ever sence I left Anderson's, and +thought 'twas a steamboat. Come, my friend, git on your clothes and +accouterments, fer Mrs. Anderson is a-dyin' or a-lettin' on to be +a-dyin' fer a drink of ginseng-tea or a corn-sweat or some other +decoction of the healin' art. Come, I fotch two hosses, so you shouldn't +lose no time a saddlin' your'n, though I don't doubt the ole woman'd git +well ef you never gin her the light of your cheerful count'nance. +She'd git well fer spite, and hire a calomel-doctor jist to make you +mad. I'd jest as soon and a little sooner expect a female wasp to die of +heart-disease as her." + +[Illustration: "FIRE! MURDER!! HELP!!!"] + +The head of Dr. Ketchup had disappeared from the window about the middle +of this speech, and the remainder of it came by sheer force of internal +pressure, like the flowing of an artesian well. + +Dr. Ketchup walked out, with ruffled dignity, carefully dressed. His +immaculate clothes and his solemn face were the two halves of his stock +in trade. Under the clothes lay buried Ketchup the blacksmith; under the +wiseacre face was Ketchup the ignoramus. Ignoramus he was, but not a +fool. As he rode along back with Jonas, he plied the latter with +questions. If he could get the facts of the case out of Jonas, he would +pretend to have inferred them from the symptoms and thus add to +his credit. + +"What caused this attack, Jonas?" + +"I 'low she caused it herself. Generally does, my friend," said Jonas. + +"Had anything occurred to excite her?" + +"Well, yes, I 'low they had; consid'able, if not more." + +"What was it?" + +"Well, you see she'd been to Hankins's preachin'. Now, I 'low, my +medical friend, the day of jedgment a'n't a pleasin' prospeck to anybody +that's jilted one brother to marry another, and then cheated the jilted +one outen his sheer of his lamented father's estate. Do you think it is, +my learned friend?" + +But Dr. Ketchup could not be sure whether Jonas was making game of him +or not. So he changed the subject. + +"Nice hoss, this bay," said the "doctor." + +"Well, yes," said Jonas, "I don't 'low you ever put shoes on no better +hoss than this 'ere in all your days--as a blacksmith. Did you now, my +medical friend?" + +"No, I think not," said Ketchup testily, and was silent. + +Mrs. Anderson had grown impatient at the doctor's delay. "Samuel! Oo! +oo! oo! Samuel! My dear, I'm dying. Jonas don't care. He wouldn't hurry. +I wonder you trusted _him!_ If you had been dying, I should have gone +myself for the doctor. Oo! oo! oo! _oh!_ If I should die, nobody would +be sorry." + +Abigail Anderson was not to blame for telling the truth so exactly in +this last sentence. It was an accident. She might have recalled it but +that Dr. Ketchup walked in at that moment. + +He felt her pulse; looked at her tongue; said that it was heart-disease, +caused by excitement. He thought it must be religious excitement. She +should have a corn-sweat and some wafer-ash tea. The corn-sweat would +act as a tonic and strengthen the pericardium. The wafer-ash would cause +a tendency of blood to the head, and thus relieve the pressure on the +juggler-vein. Cynthy Ann listened admiringly to Dr. Ketchup's +incomprehensible, oracular utterances, and then speedily put a bushel of +ear-corn in the great wash-boiler, which was already full of hot water +in expectation of such a prescription, and set the wafer-ash to draw. + +Julia had, up to this time, stood outside her mother's door trembling +with fear, and not daring to enter. She longed to do something, but did +not know how it would be received. Now, while the deep, sonorous voice +of Ketchup occupied the attention of all, she crept in and stood at the +foot of Mrs. Anderson's bed. The mother, recovering from her twentieth +dying spell, saw her. + +"Take her away! She has killed me! She wants me to die! _I_ know! Take +her away!" + +And Julia went to her own room and shut herself up in darkness and in +wretchedness, but in all that miserable night there came to her not one +regret that she had reached her hand to the departing August. + +The neighbor-women came in and pretended to do something for the +invalid, but really they sat by the kitchen-stove and pumped Cynthy Ann +and the doctor, and managed in some way to connect Julia with her +mother's illness, and shook their heads. So that when Julia crept +down-stairs at midnight, in hope of being useful, she found herself +looked at inquisitively, and felt herself to be such an object of +attention that she was glad to take the advice of Cynthy Ann and find +refuge in her own room. On the stairs she met Jonas, who said as +she passed: + +"Don't fret yourself, little turtle-dove. Don't pay no 'tention to ole +Ketchup. Your ma won't die, not even with his corn-sweats to waft her on +to glory. You done your duty to-night like one of Fox's martyrs, and +like George Washi'ton with his little cherry-tree and hatchet. And +you'll git your reward, if not in the next world, you'll have it +in this." + +Julia lay down awhile, and then sat up, looking out into the darkness. +Perhaps God was angry with her for loving August; perhaps she was making +an idol of him. When Julia came to think that her love for August was in +antagonism to the love of God, she did not hesitate which she would +choose. All the best of her nature was loyal to August, whom she "had +seen," as the Apostle John has it. She could not reason it out, but a +God who seemed to be in opposition to the purest and best emotion of her +heart was a God she could not love. August and the love of August were +known quantities. God and the love of God were unknown, and the God of +whom Cynthy spoke (and of whom many a mistaken preacher has spoken), +that was jealous of Mrs. Pearson's love for her baby, and that killed it +because it was his rival, was not a God that she could love without +being a traitor to all the good that God had put in her heart. The God +that was keeping August away from her because he was jealous of the one +beautiful thing in her life was a Moloch, and she deliberately +determined that she would not worship or love him. The True God, who is +a Father, and who is not Supreme Selfishness, doing all for His own +glory, as men falsely declare; the True God--who does all things for the +good of others--loved her, I doubt not, for refusing to worship the +Conventional Deity thus presented to her mind. Even as He has pitied +many a mother that rebelled against the Governor of the Universe, +because she was told the Governor of the Universe, in a petty seeking +for his own glory, had taken away her "idols." + +But Julia looked up at the depths between the stars, and felt how great +God must be, and her rebellion against Him seemed a war at fearful odds. +And then the sense of God's omnipresence, of His being there alone with +her, so startled her and awakened such a feeling of her fearful +loneliness, orphanage, antagonism to God, that she could bear it no +longer, and at two o'clock she went down again; but Mrs. Brown looked +over at Mrs. Orcutt in a way that said: "Told you so! Guilty conscience! +Can't sleep!" And so Julia thought God, even as she conceived Him, +better company than men, or rather than women, for--well, I won't make +the ungallant remark; each sex has its besetting faults. + +Julia took back with her a candle, thinking that this awful God would +not seem so close if she had a light. There lay on her bureau a +Testament, one of those old editions of the American Bible Society, +printed on indifferent paper, and bound in a red muslin that was given +to fading, the like whereof in book-making has never been seen since. +She felt angry with God, who, she was sure, was persecuting her, as +Cynthy Ann had said, out of jealousy of her love for August, and she was +determined that she would not look into that red-cloth Testament, which +seemed to her full of condemnation. But there was a fascination about it +she could not resist. The discordant hysterical laughter of her mother, +which reached her ears from below, harrowed her sorely, and her grief +and despair at her own situation were so great that she was at last fain +to read the only book in the room in order that she might occupy her +mind. There is a strange superstition among certain pietists which loads +them to pray for a text to guide them, and then take any chance passage +as a divine direction. I do not mean to say that Julia had any +supernatural leading in her reading. The New Testament is so full of +comfort that one could hardly manage to miss it. She read the seventh +chapter of Luke: how the Lord healed the centurion's servant that was +"dear unto him," and noted that He did not rebuke the man for loving his +slave; how the Lord took pity on that poor widow who wept at the bier of +her only son, and brought him back to life again, and "restored him to +his mother." This did not seem to be just the Christ that Cynthy Ann +thought of as the foe of every human affection. She read more that she +did not understand so well, and then at the end of the chapter she read +about the woman that was a sinner, that washed His feet with grateful +tears and wiped them with her hair. And she would have taken the woman's +guilt to have had the woman's opportunity and her benediction. + +At last, turning over the leaves without any definite purpose, she +lighted on a place in Matthew, where three verses at the end of a +chapter happened to stand at the head of a column. I suppose she read +them because the beginning of the page and the end of the chapter made +them seem a short detached piece. And they melted into her mood so that +she seemed to know Christ and God for the first time. "Come unto me all +ye that labor and are heavy laden," she read, and stopped. That means +me, she thought with a heart ready to burst. And that saying is the +gateway of life. When the promises and injunctions mean me, I am saved. +Julia read on, "And I will give you rest." And so she drank in the +passage, clause by clause, until she came to the end about an easy yoke +and a light burden, and then God seemed to her so different. She prayed +for August, for now the two loves, the love for August and the love for +Christ, seemed not in any way inconsistent. She lay down saying over and +over, with tears in her eyes, "rest for your souls," and "weary and +heavy laden," and "come unto me," and "meek and lowly of heart," and +then she settled on one word and repeated it over and over, "rest, rest, +rest." The old feeling was gone. She was no more a rebel nor an orphan. +The presence of God was not a terror but a benediction. She had found +rest for her soul, and He gave His beloved sleep. For when she awoke +from what seemed a short slumber, the red light of a glorious dawn came +in at the window, and her candle was flickering its last in the bottom +of the socket. The Testament lay open as she had left it, and for days +she kept it open there, and did not dare read anything but these three +verses, lest she should lose the rest for her soul that she found here. + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +THE HAWK IN A NEW PART. + +Humphreys was now in the last weeks of his singing-school. He had become +a devout Millerite, and was paying attentions to the not unwilling +Betsey Malcolm, though pretending at Anderson's to be absolutely +heart-broken at the conduct of Julia in jilting him after she had given +him every assurance of affection. And then to be jilted for a Dutchman, +you know! In this last regard his feeling was not all affectation. In +his soul, cupidity, vanity, and vindictiveness divided the narrow +territory between them. He inwardly swore that he'd get satisfaction +somehow. Debts which were due to his pride should be collected by +his revenge. + +Did you ever reflect on the uselessness of a landscape when one has no +eyes to see it with, or, what is worse, no soul to look through one's +eyes? Humphreys was going down to the castle to call on the Philosopher, +and "Shady Hollow," as Andrew called it, had surely never been more +glorious than on the morning which he chose for his walk. The black-haw +bushes hung over the roadside, the maples lifted up their great +trunk-pillars toward the sky, and the grape-vines, some of them four +and even six inches in diameter, reached up to the high boughs, fifty or +a hundred feet, without touching the trunk. They had been carried up by +the growth of the tree, tree and vine having always lived in each +other's embrace. Out through the opening in the hollow, Humphreys saw +the green sea of six-feet-high Indian corn in the fertile bottoms, the +two rows of sycamores on the sandy edges of the river, and the hazy +hills on the Kentucky side. But not one touch of sentiment, not a +perception of beauty, entered the soul of the singing-master as he +daintily-chose his steps so as to avoid soiling his glossy boots, and as +he knocked the leaves off the low-hanging beech boughs with his delicate +cane. He had his purpose in visiting Andrew, and his mind was bent +on his game. + +Charon, the guardian of the castle, bayed his great hoarse bark at the +Hawk, and with that keen insight into human nature for which dogs are so +remarkable, he absolutely forbade the dandy's entrance, until Andrew +appeared at the door and called the dog away. + +"I am delighted at having the opportunity of meeting a great light in +literature like yourself, Mr. Anderson. Here you sit weaving, earning +your bread with a manly simplicity that is truly admirable. You are like +Cincinnatus at his plow. I also am a literary man." + +He really was a college graduate, though doubtless he was as much of a +humbug in recitations and examinations as he had always been since. +Andrew's only reply to his assertion that he was a literary man was a +rather severe and prolonged scrutiny of his oily locks, his dainty +mustache, his breast-pin, his watch-seals, and finally his straps and +his boots. For Andrew firmly believed that neglected hair, Byron +collars, and unblackened boots were the first signs of literary taste. + +"You think I dress too well," said Humphreys with his ghastly smirk. +"You think that I care too much for appearances. I do. It is a weakness +of mine which comes from a residence abroad." + +These words touched the Philosopher a little. To have been abroad was +the next best thing to having been a foreigner _ab origine_. But still +he felt a little suspicious. He was superior to the popular prejudice +against the mustache, but he could not endure hair-oil. "Nature," he +maintained, "made the whole beard to be worn, and Nature provides an oil +for the hair. Let Nature have her way." He was suspicious of Humphreys, +not because he wore a mustache, but because he shaved the rest of his +face and greased his hair. He had, besides, a little intuitive +perception of the fact that a smile which breaks against the rock-bound +coast of cold cheek-bones and immovable eyes is a mask. And so he +determined to test the literary man. I have heard that Masonic lodges +have been deceived by impostors. I have never heard that a literary man +was made to believe in the genuineness of the attainments of a +charlatan. + +And yet Humphreys held his own well. He could talk glibly and +superficially about books; he simulated considerable enthusiasm for the +books which Andrew admired. His mistake and his consequent overthrow +came, as always in such cases, from a desire to overdo. It was after +half an hour of talking without tripping that Andrew suddenly asked: "Do +you like the ever-to-be-admired Xenophanes?" + +It certainly is no disgrace to any literary man not to know anything of +so remote a philosopher as Xenophanes. The first characteristic of a +genuine literary man is the frankness with which he confesses his +ignorance. But Humphreys did not really know but that Xenophanes was +part of the daily reading of a man of letters. + +"Oh! yes," said he. "I have his works in turkey morocco." + +"What do you think of his opinion that God is a sphere?" asked the +Philosopher, smiling. + +"Oh! yes--ahem; let me see--which God is it that he speaks of, Jupiter +or--well, you know he was a Greek." + +"But he only believed in one God," said Andrew sternly. + +"Oh! ah! I forgot that he was a Christian." + +So from blunder to blunder Andrew pushed him, Humphreys stumbling more +and more in his blind attempts to right himself, and leaving, at last, +with much internal confusion but with an unruffled smile. He dared not +broach his errand by asking the address of August. For Andrew did not +conceal his disgust, having resumed work at his loom, suffering the +bowing impostor to find his own way out without so much as a +courteous adieu. + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +JONAS EXPRESSES HIS OPINION ON DUTCHMEN. + +Sometimes the virus of a family is all drawn off in one vial. I think it +is Emerson who makes this remark. We have all seen the vials. + +Such an one was Norman Anderson. The curious law of hereditary descent +had somehow worked him only evil. "Nater," observed Jonas to Cynthy, +when the latter had announced to him that Norman, on account of some +disgrace at school, had returned home, "nater ha'n't done him half +jestice, I 'low. It went through Sam'el Anderson and Abig'il, and picked +out the leetle weak pompous things in the illustrious father; and then +hunted out all the spiteful and hateful things in the lovin' and +much-esteemed mother, and somehow stuck 'em together, to make as ornery +a chap as ever bit a hoe-cake in two." + +"I'm afeard her brother's scrape and comin' home won't make Jule none +the peacefuller at the present time," said Cynthy Ann. + +"Wal," returned Jonas, "I don't think she keers much fer him. She +couldn't, you know. Love him? Now, Cynthy Ann, my dear"--here Cynthy Ann +began to reproach herself for listening to anything so pleasant as +these two last words--"Now, Cynthy Ann, my dear, you see you might maybe +love a cuckle-burr and nuss it; but I don't think you would be likely +to. I never heern tell of nobody carryin' jimson-weed pods in their +bosoms. You see they a'n't no place about Norman Anderson that love +could take a holt of 'thout gittin' scratched." + +"But his mother loves him, I reckon," said Cynthy Ann. + +"Wal, yes; so she do. Loves her shadder in the lookin'-glass, maybe, and +kinder loves Norman bekase he's got so much of her devil into him. It's +like lovin' like, I reckon. But I 'low they's a right smart difference +with Jule. Sence she was born, that Norman has took more delight in +tormentin' Jule than a yaller dog with a white tail does in worryin' a +brindle tom-cat up a peach-tree. And comin' home at this junction he'll +gin her a all-fired lot of trials and tribulation." + +At the time this conversation took place, two weeks had elapsed since +Mrs. Anderson's "attack." Julia had heard nothing from August yet. The +"Hawk" still made his head-quarters in the house, but was now watching +another quarry. Mrs. Anderson was able to scold as vigorously as ever, +if, indeed, that function had ever been suspended. And just now she was +engaged in scolding the teacher who had expelled Norman. The habit of +fighting teachers was as chronic as her heart-disease. Norman had always +been abused by the whole race of pedagogues. There was from the first a +conspiracy against him, and now he was cheated out of his last chance of +getting an education. All this Norman steadfastly believed. + +Of course Norman sided with his mother as against the Dutchman. The more +contemptible a man is, the more he contemns a man for not belonging to +his race or nation. And Norman felt that he would be eternally disgraced +by any alliance with a German. He threw himself into the fight with a +great deal of vigor. It helped him to forget other things. + +"Jule," said he, walking up to her as she sat alone on the porch, "I'm +ashamed of you. To go and fall in love with a Dutchman like Gus Wehle, +and disgrace us all!" + +"I wonder you didn't think about disgrace before," retorted Julia, "I am +ashamed to have August Wehle hear what you've been doing." + +[Illustration: NORMAN ANDERSON.] + +Dogs that have the most practice in cat-worrying are liable to get their +noses scratched sometimes. Norman took care never to attack Julia again +except under the guns of his mother's powerful battery. And he revenged +himself on her by appealing to his mother with a complaint that "Jule +had throwed up to him that he had been dismissed from school." And of +course Julia received a solemn lecture on her way of driving poor Norman +to destruction. She was determined to disgrace the family. If she could +not do it by marrying a Dutchman, she would do it by slandering +her brother. + +Norman thought to find an ally in Jonas. + +"Jonas, don't you think it's awful that Jule is in love with Dutchman +like Gus Wehle?" + +"I do, my love," responded Jonas. "I think a Dutchman is a Dutchman. I +don't keer how much he larns by burnin' the midnight ile by day and +night. My time-honored friend, he's a Dutchman arter all. The Dutch is +bred in the bone. It won't fade. A Dutchman may be a gentleman in his +way of doin' things, may be honest and industrious, and keep all the +commandments in the catalogue, but I say he is Dutch, and that's enough +to keep him out of the kingdom of heaven and out of this free and +enlightened republic. And an American may be a good-fer-nothin', ornery +little pertater-ball, wuthless alike to man and beast; he mayn't be good +fer nothin', nuther fer work nur study; he may git drunk and git turned +outen school and do any pertikeler number of disgraceful and +oncreditable things, he may be a reg'ler milksop and nincompoop, a fool +and a blackguard and a coward all rolled up into one piece of brown +paper, ef he wants to. And what's to hender? A'n't he a free-born an' +enlightened citizen of this glorious and civilized and Christian land of +Hail Columby? What business has a Dutchman, ef he's ever so smart and +honest and larned, got in our broad domains, resarved for civil and +religious liberty? What business has he got breathin' our atmosphere or +takin' refuge under the feathers of our American turkey-buzzard? No, my +beloved and respected feller-citizen of native birth, it's as plain to +me as the wheels of 'Zek'el and the year 1843. I say, Hip, hip, hoo-ray +fer liberty or death, and down with the Dutch!" + +Norman Anderson scratched his head. + +What did Jonas mean? + +He couldn't exactly divine; but it is safe to say that on the whole he +was not entirely satisfied with this boomerang speech. He rather thought +that he had better not depend on Jonas. + +But he was not long in finding allies enough in his war against Germany. + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +SOMETHIN' LUDIKEROUS. + +There was an egg-supper in the country store at Brayville. Mr. Mandluff, +the tall and raw-boned Hoosier who kept the store, was not unwilling to +have the boys get up an egg supper now and then in his store after he +had closed the front-door at night. For you must know that an egg-supper +is a peculiar Western institution. Sometimes it is a most enjoyable +institution--when it has its place in a store where there is no Kentucky +whisky to be had. But in Brayville, in the rather miscellaneous +establishment of the not very handsome and not very graceful Mr. +Mandluff, an egg-supper was not a great moral institution. It was +otherwise, and profanely called by its votaries a camp-meeting; it would +be hard to tell why, unless it was that some of the insiders grew very +happy before it was over. For an egg-supper at Mandluff's store was to +Brayville what an oyster-supper at Delmonico's is to New York. It was +one tenth hard eggs and nine tenths that beverage which bears the name +of an old royal house of France. + +How were the eggs cooked? I knew somebody would ask that impertinent +question. Well, they were not fried, they were not boiled, they were +not poached, they were not scrambled, they were not omeletted, they were +not roasted on the half-shell, they were not stuffed with garlic and +served with cranberries, they were not boiled and served with anchovy +sauce, they were not "_en salmi_." I think I had better stop there, lest +I betray my knowledge of cookery. It is sufficient to say that they were +not cooked in any of the above-named fashions, nor in any other way +mentioned in Catharine Beecher's or Marion Harland's cookbooks. They +were baked _à la mode_ backwoods. It is hardly proper for me to give a +recipe in this place, that belongs more properly to the "Household +Departments" of the newspapers. But to satisfy curiosity, and to tell +something about cooking, which Prof. Blot does not know, I may say that +they were broken and dropped on a piece of brown paper laid on the top +of the old box-stove. By the time the egg was cooked hard the paper was +burned to ashes, but the egg came off clean and nice from the stove, and +made as palatable and indigestible an article for a late supper as one +could wish. It only wanted the addition of Mandluff's peculiar whisky to +make it dissipation of the choicest kind. For the more a dissipation +costs in life and health, the more fascinating it is. + +There was an egg-supper, as I said, at Mandluff's store. There was to be +a "camp-meeting" in honor of Norman Anderson's successful return to his +liberty and his cronies. It gave Norman, the greatest pleasure to return +to a society where it was rather to his credit than otherwise that he +had gone on a big old time, got caught, and been sent adrift by the old +hunk that had tried to make him study Latin. + +The eggs were baked in the true "camp-meeting" style, the whisky was +drunk, and--so was the company. Bill Day's rather red eyes grew redder, +and his nose shone with delight as he shuffled the greasy pack of +"kyerds." The maudlin smile crossed the habitually melancholy lines of +his face in a way that split and splintered his visage into a curious +contradiction of emotions. + +"H--a--oo--p!" He shouted, throwing away the cards over the heads of his +companions. "Ha--oop! boys, thish is big--hoo! hoo! ha--oop! I say is +big. Let's do somethin'!" + +Here there was a confused cry that "it _was_ big, and that they had +better do somethin' or 'nother." + +"Let's blow up the ole school-house," said Bill Day, who was not +friendly to education. + +"I tell you what," said Bob Short, who was dealing the cards in another +set--"I tell you what," and Bob winked his eyes vigorously, and looked +more solemn and wise than he could have looked if it had not been for +the hard eggs and the whisky--"I tell you what," said Bob a third time, +and halted, for his mind's activity was a little choked by the fervor of +his emotions--"I tell you what, boys--" + +"Wal," piped Jim West in a cracked voice, "you've told us _what_ four +times, I 'low; now s'pose you tell us somethin' else." + +"I tell you what, boys," said Bob Short, suddenly remembering his +sentence, "don't let's do nothin' that'll git us into no trouble +arterwards. Ef we blow up the school-house we'll be 'rested fer bigamy +or--or--what d'ye call it?" + +"For larson," said Bill Day, hardly able to restrain another whoop. + +"No, 'taint larson," said Bob Short, looking wiser than a chief-justice, +"it's arsony. Now I say, don't let's go to penitentiary for no--no +larson--no arsony, I mean." + +"Ha--oop!" said Bill. "Let's do somethin' ludikerous. Hurrah for arsony +and larson! Dog-on the penitentiary! Ha--oop!" + +[Illustration: SOMETHIN' LUDIKEROUS.] + +"Let's go fer the Dutchman," said Norman Anderson, just drunk enough to +be good-naturedly murderous and to speak in dialect. "Gus is turned out +to committin' larson by breakin' into people's houses an' has run off. +Now let's tar and feather the ole one. Of course, he's a thief. Dutchmen +always is, I 'low. Clark township don't want none of 'em, I'll be +dog-oned if it do," and Norman got up and struck his fist on +the counter. + +"An' they won't nobody hurt you; you see, he's on'y a Dutchman," said +Bob Short "Larson on a Dutchman don't hold." + +"I say, let's hang him," said Bill Day. "Ha--oop! Let's hang him, or do +somethin' else ludikerous!" + +"I wouldn't mind," grinned Norman Anderson, delighted at the turn things +had taken. "I'd just like to see him hung." + +"So would I," said Bill Day, leaning over to Norman. "Ef a Dutchman wash +to court my sishter, I'd--" + +"He'd be a fool ef he did," piped Jim West. For Bill Day's sister was a +"maid not vendible," as Shakespeare has it. + +"See yer," said Bill, trying in vain to draw his coat. "Looky yer, +Jeems; ef you say anythin' agin Ann Marier, I'll commit the wust larson +on you you ever seed." + +"I didn't say nothin' agin Ann Marier," squeaked Jim. "I was talkin' +agin the Dutch." + +"Well, that'sh all right Ha--oop! Boys, let's do somethin', larson or +arsony or--somethin'." + +A bucket of tar and some feathers were bought, for which young Anderson +was made to pay, and Bill Day insisted on buying fifteen feet of rope. +"Bekase," as he said, "arter you git the feathers on the bird, you +may--you may want to help him to go to roosht you know, on a hickory +limb. Ha--oop! Come along, boys; I say let's do somethin' ludikerous, ef +it's nothin' but a little larson." + +And so they went galloping down the road, nine drunken fools. For it is +one of the beauties of lynch law, that, however justifiable it may seem +in some instances, it always opens the way to villainous outrages. Some +of my readers will protest that a man was never lynched for the crime of +being a Dutchman. Which only shows how little they know of the intense +prejudice and lawless violence of the early West. Some day people will +not believe that men have been killed in California for being Chinamen. + +Of the nine who started, one, the drunkest, fell off and broke his arm; +the rest rode up in front of the cabin of Gottlieb Wehle. I do not want +to tell how they alarmed the mother at her late sewing and dragged +Gottlieb out of his bed. I shudder now when I recall one such outrage to +which I was an unwilling witness. Norman threw the rope round Gottlieb's +neck and declared for hanging. Bill Day agreed. It would be so +ludikerous, you know! + +"Vot hash I tun? Hey? Vot vor you dries doo hanks me already, hey?" +cried the honest German, who was willing enough to have the end of the +world come, but who did not like the idea of ascending alone, and in +this fashion. + +Mrs. Wehle pushed her way into the mob and threw the rope off her +husband's neck, and began to talk with vehemence in German. For a moment +the drunken fellows hung back out of respect for a woman. Then Bill Day +was suddenly impressed with the fact that the duty of persuading Mrs. +Wehle to consent to her husband's execution devolved upon him. + +"Take keer, boys; let me talk to the ole woman. I'll argy the case." + +"You can't speak Dutch no more nor a hoss can," squeaked Jeems West. + +"Blam'd ef I can't, though. Hyer, ole woman, firshta Dutch?" + +"Ya." + +"Now," said Bill, turning to the others in triumph, "what did I tell +you? Well, you see, your boy August is a thief." + +"He's not a teef!" said the old man. + +"Shet up your jaw. I say he is. Now, your ole man's got to be hung." + +"Vot vor?" broke in Gottlieb. + +"Bekase it's all your own fault. You hadn't orter be a Dutchman." + +Here the crowd fell into a wrangle. It was not so easy to hang a man +when such a woman stood there pleading for him. Besides, Bob Short +insisted that hanging was arsony in the first degree, and they better +not do it. To this Bill Day assented. He said he 'sposed tar and +feathers was only larson in the second degree. And then it would be rale +ludikerous. And now confused cries of "Bring on the tar!" "Where's the +feathers?" "Take off his clothes!" began to be raised. Norman stood out +for hanging. Drink always intensified his meanness. But the tar couldn't +be found. The man whom they had left lying by the roadside with a broken +arm had carried the tar, and had been well coated with it himself in +his fall. + +"Ha-oop!" shouted Bill Day. "Let's do somethin'. Dog-on the arsony! +Let's hang him as high as Dan'el." + +And with that the rope was thrown over Gottlieb's, neck and he was +hurried off to the nearest tree. The rope was then put over a limb, and +a drunken half-dozen got ready to pull, while Norman Anderson adjusted +the noose and valiant Bill Day undertook to keep off Mrs. Wehle. + +"All ready! Pull up! Ha-oop!" shouted Bill Day, and the crowd pulled, +but Mrs. Wehle had slipped off the noose again, and the volunteer +executioners fell over one another in such a way as to excite the +derisive laughter of Bill Day, who thought it perfectly ludikerous. But +before the laugh had finished, the indignant Gottlieb had knocked Bill +Day over and sent Norman after him. The blow sobered them a little, and +suddenly destroyed Bill's ambition to commit "arsony," or do anything +else ludikerous. But Norman was furious, and under his lead Wehle's arms +were now bound with the rope and a consultation was held, during which +little Wilhelmina pleaded for her father effectively, and more by her +tears and cries and the wringing of her chubby hands than by any words. +Bill Day said he be blamed of that little Dutch gal's takin' on so +didn't kinder make him foul sorter scrimpshous you know. But the mob +could not quit without doing something. So it was resolved to give +Gottlieb a good ducking in the river and send him into Kentucky with a +warning not to come back. They went down the ravine past Andrew's castle +to the river. Mrs. Wehle followed, believing that her husband would be +drowned, and little Wilhelmina ran and pulled the alarm and awakened the +Backwoods Philosopher, who soon threw himself among them, but too late +to dissuade them from their purpose, for Andrew's own skiff, the +"Grisilde" by name, with three of the soberest of the party, had already +set out to convey Wehle, after one hasty immersion, to the other shore, +while the rest stood round hallooing like madmen to prevent any alarm +that Wehle might raise attracting attention on the other side. + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +THE GIANT GREAT-HEART. + +As soon as Andrew's skiff, the "Grisilde," was brought back and the +ruffians had gone off up the ravine, Andrew left Mrs. Wehle sitting by +the fire in the loom-room of the castle, while he crossed the river to +look after Gottlieb. Little Wilhelmina insisted on going with him, and +as she handled a steering-oar well he took her along. They found +Gottlieb with his arms cruelly pinioned sitting on a log in a state of +utter dejection, and dripping with water from his ducking. + +"Ich zay, Antroo, ish dish vat dey galls a vree goontry, already? A +blace vare troonk sheounders dosh vot ever dey hadn't ort! Dat is vree +koontry. Mein knabe ish roon off ver liebin a Yangee; unt a vool he ish, +doo. Unt ich ish hoong unt troundt unt darrdt unt vedderd unt drakt out +indoo de ribber, unt dolt if I ko back do mein vrau unt kinder I zhall +pe kilt vunst more already. Unt I shpose if ich shtays here der +Gainduckee beobles vill hang me unt dar me unt trown me all over in der +ribber, doo, already, pekoz I ish Deutsch. Ich zay de voorld ish all +pad, unt it aud doo pe vinished vunst already, I ton't gare how quick, +so ash dem droonk vools kit vot pelongs doo 'em venever Gabrel ploes his +drumbet." + +[Illustration: TO THE RESCUE.] + +"They'll get that in due time, my friend," said Andrew, untying the rope +with which Gottlieb had been pinioned. "Come, let us go back to our +own shore." + +"Bud daint my zhore no more. Dey said I'd god doo hang again vanst more +if I ever grossed de Ohio Ribber vunst again already, but I ton't vants +doo hang no more vor noddin already." + +"But I'll take care of that," said Andrew. "Before to-morrow night I'll +make your house the safest place in Clark township. I've got the rascals +by the throat now. Trust me." + +It took much entreaty on the part of Andrew and much weeping and kissing +on the part of Wilhelmina to move the heart of the terrified Gottlieb. +At last he got into the skiff and allowed himself to be rowed back +again, declaring all the way that he nebber zee no zich a vree koontry +ash dish voz already. + +When Bill Day and his comrades got up the next morning and began to +think of the transactions of the night, they did not seem nearly so +ludikerous as they had at the time. And when Norman Anderson and Bill +Day and Bob Short read the notice on the door of Mandluff's store they +felt that "arsony" might have a serious as well as a ludikerous side. + +Andrew at first intended to institute proceedings against the rioters, +but he knew that the law was very uncertain against the influences which +the eight or nine young men might bring to bear, and the prejudices of +the people against the Dutch. To prosecute would be to provoke another +riot. So he contented himself with this + + "PROCLAMATION! + + "TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN: I have a list of eight men connected + with the riotous mob which broke into the house of Gottlieb + Wehle, a peaceable and unoffending citizen of the United + States. The said eight men proceeded to commit an assault + and battery on the person of the said Gottlieb Wehle, and + even endeavored at one time to take his life. And the said + riotous conduct was the result of a conspiracy, and the said + assault with intent to kill was with malice aforethought. The + said eight men, after having committed grievous outrages upon + him by dipping him in the water and by other means, warned + the said Wehle not to return to the State. Now, therefore, I + give notice to all and several of those concerned in these + criminal proceedings that the said Wehle has returned by my + advice; and that if so much as a hair of his head or a + splinter of his property is touched I will appear against + said parties and will prosecute them until I secure the + infliction of the severest penalties made and provided for + the punishment of such infamous crimes. I hope I am well + enough known here to render it certain that if I once begin + proceedings nothing but success or my death or the end of the + world can stop them. + + "ANDREW ANDERSON, + + "Backwoods Philosopher. + + "AT THE CASTLE, May 12th, 1843." + +"It don't look so ludikerous as it did, does it, Bill?" squeaked Jim +West, as he read the notice over Bill's shoulder. + +"Shet your mouth, you fool!" said Bill. "Don't you never peep. Ef I'd a +been sober I might a knowed ole Grizzly would interfere. He +always does." + +In truth, Andrew was a sort of Perpetual Champion of the Oppressed, and +those who did not like him feared him, which is the next best thing. + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + +A CHAPTER OF BETWEENS. + +Did you ever move? And, in moving, did you ever happen to notice how +many little things there are to be picked up? Now that I am about to +shift the scene of my story from Clark township, the narrow stage upon +which it has progressed through two dozen chapters, I find a great +number of little things to be picked up. + +One of the little things to be picked up is Norman Anderson. Very +little, if measured soul-wise. When his father had read the proclamation +of Andrew and divined that Norman was interested in the riot, he became +thoroughly indignant; the more so, that he felt his own lack of power to +do anything in the premises against his wife. But when Mrs. Abigail +heard of the case she was in genuine distress. It showed Andrew's +vindictiveness. He would follow her forever with his resentments, just +because she could not love him. It was not her fault that she did not +love him. Poor Norman had to suffer all the persecutions that usually +fall to such innocent creatures. She must send him away from home, +though it broke her mother's heart to do it; for if Andrew didn't have +him took up, the old Dutchman would, just because his son had turned out +a burglar. She said burglar rather emphatically, with a look at Julia. + +And so Samuel Anderson took his son to Louisville, and got him a place +in a commission and produce house on the levee, with which Mr. Anderson +had business influence. And Samuel warned him that he must do his best, +for he could not come back home now without danger of arrest, and Norman +made many promises of amendment; so many, that his future seemed to him +barren of all delight. And, by way of encouraging himself in the austere +life upon which he had resolved to enter, he attended the least +reputable place of amusement in the city, the first night after his +father's departure. + +In Clark township the Millerite excitement was at white heat. Some of +the preachers in other parts of the country had set one day, some +another. I believe that Mr. Miller, the founder, never had the temerity +to set a day. But his followers figured the thing more closely, and +Elder Hankins had put a fine point on the matter. He was certain, for +his part, that the time was at midnight on the eleventh of August. His +followers became very zealous, and such is the nature of an infection +that scarcely anybody was able to resist it. Mrs. Anderson, true to her +excitable temper, became fanatic--dreaming dreams, seeing visions, +hearing voices, praying twenty times a day[2], wearing a sourly pious +face, and making all around her more unhappy than ever. Jonas declared +that ef the noo airth and the noo heaven was to be chockful of sech as +she, 'most any other place in the univarse would be better, akordin' to +his way of thinkin'. He said she repented more of other folkses' sins +than anybody he ever seed. + +[Footnote 2: Mrs. Anderson was less devout than some of her +co-religionists; the wife of a well-known steamboat-clerk was accustomed +to pray in private fifty times a day, hoping by means of this praying +without ceasing to be found ready when the trumpet should sound.] + +As summer came on, Samuel Anderson, borne away on the tide of his own +and his wife's fanatical fever of sublimated devotion, discharged Jonas +and all his other _employés_, threw up business, and gave his whole +attention to the straightening of his accounts for the coming day of +judgment. Before Jonas left to seek a new place he told Cynthy Ann as +how as ef he'd met her alrlier 'twould a-settled his coffee fer life. He +was gittin' along into the middle of the week now, but he'd come to feel +like a boy since he'd been a livin' where he could have a few sweet and +pleasant words--ahem!--he thought December'd be as pleasant as May all +the year round ef he could live in the aurora borealis of her +countenance. And Cynthy Ann enjoyed his words so much that she prayed +for forgiveness for the next week and confessed in class-meeting that +she had yielded to temptation and sot her heart on the things of this +perishin' world. She was afeared she hadn't always remembered as how as +she was a poor unworthy dyin' worm of the dust, and that all the +beautiful things in this world perished with the usin'. + +And Brother Goshorn, the class-leader at Harden's Cross-Roads, exhorted +her to tear every idol from her heart. And still the sweet woman's +nature, God's divine law revealed in her heart, did assert itself a +little. She planted some pretty-by-nights in an old cracked +blue-and-white tea-pot and set it on her window-sill. Somehow the +pretty-by-nights would remind her of Jonas, and while she tried to +forget him with one half of her nature, the other and better part (the +depraved part, she would have told you) cherished the memory of his +smallest act and word. In fact, the flowers had no association with +Jonas except that along with the awakening of her love came this little +sentiment for flowers into the dry desert of her life. But one day Mrs. +Anderson discovered the old blue broken tea-pot with its young plants. + +"Why, Cynthy Ann!" she cried, "a body'd think you'd have more sense than +to do such a soft thing as to be raisin' posies at _your_ time of life! +And that when the world is drawing to a close, too! You'll be one of the +foolish virgins with no oil to your lamp, as sure as you see that day." + +As for Julia's flowers, Mrs. Anderson had rudely thrown them into the +road by way of removing temptation from her and turning her thoughts +toward the awful realities of the close of time. + +But Cynthy Ann blushed and repented, and kept her broken tea-pot, with a +fearful sense of sin in doing so. She never watered the pretty-by-nights +without the feeling that she was offering sacrifice to an idol. + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + +A NICE LITTLE GAME. + +It was natural enough that the "mud-clerk" on the old steamboat Iatan +should take a fancy to the "striker," as the engineer's apprentice was +called. Especially since the striker know so much more than the +mud-clerk, and was able to advise him about many things. A striker with +so much general information was rather a novelty, and all the officers +fancied him, except Sam Munson, the second engineer, who had a natural +jealousy of a striker that knew more than he did. + +The striker had learned rapidly, and was trusted to stand a regular +watch. The first engineer and the third were together, and the second +engineer and the striker took the other watch. The boat in this way got +the services of a competent engineer while paying him only a +striker's wage. + +About the time the heavily-laden Iatan turned out of the Mississippi +into the Ohio at Cairo at six in the evening, the striker went off +watch, and he ought to have gone to bed to prepare himself for the +second watch of the night, especially as he would only have the +dog-watch between that and the forenoon. But a passenger had got aboard +at Cairo, whose face was familiar. The sight of it had aroused a throng +of old associations, pleasant and unpleasant, and a throng of emotions +the most tender and the most wrathful the striker had ever felt. Sleep +he could not, and so, knowing that the mud-clerk was on watch, he sought +the office after nine o'clock, and stood outside the bar talking to his +friend, who had little to do, since most of the freight had been shipped +through, and his bills for Paducah were all ready. The striker talked +with the mud-clerk, but watched the throng of passengers who drank with +each other at the bar, smoked in the "social hall," read and wrote at +the tables in the gentlemen's cabin, or sat with doffed hats and chatted +gallantly in the ladies' cabin, which was visible as a distant +background, seen over a long row of tables with green covers and under a +long row of gilded wooden stalactites, which were intended to be +ornamental. The little pendent prisms beneath the chandeliers rattled +gayly as the boat trembled at each stroke of her wheels, and gaping +backwoodsmen, abroad for the first time, looked at all the rusty +gingerbread-work, and wondered if kings were able to afford anything +half so fine as the cabin of the "palatial steamer Iatan," as she was +described on the bills. The confused murmur of many voices, mixed with +the merry tinkling of the glass pendants, gave the whole an air of +excitement. + +But the striker did not see the man he was looking for. "Who got on at +Cairo? I think I saw a man from our part of the country," he said. + +"I declare, I don't know," said the mud-clerk, who drawled his words in +a cold-blooded way. "Let me look. Here's A. Robertson, and T. Le Fevre, +and L.B. Sykes, and N. Anderson." + +"Where is Anderson going?" + +"Paid through to Louisville. Do you know him?" + +But just then Norman Anderson himself walked in, and went up to the bar +with a new acquaintance. They did not smoke the pipe of peace, like red +Americans, but, like white Americans, they had a mysterious liquid +carefully compounded, and by swallowing this they solemnly sealed their +new-made friendship after the curious and unexplained rite in use among +their people. + +Norman had been dispatched on a collecting trip, and having nine hundred +and fifty dollars in his pocket, he felt as much elated as if it had +been his own money. The gentleman with whom he drank, had a band of +crape around his white hat. He seemed very nearsighted. + +"If that greeny is a friend of yours, Gus, I declare you'd better tell +him not to tie to the serious-looking young fellow in the white hat and +gold specs, unless he means to part with all his loose change before +bed-time." + +That is what the mud-clerk drawled to August the striker, but the +striker seemed to hear the words as something spoken afar off. For just +then he was seeing a vision of a drunken mob, and a rope, and a pleading +woman, and a brave old man threatened with death. Just then he heard +harsh and muddled voices, rude oaths, and jeering laughter, and above it +all the sweet pleading of a little girl begging for a father's life. And +the quick blood came into his fair German face, and he felt that he +could not save this Norman Anderson from the toils of the gambler, +though he might, if provoked, pitch him over the guard of the boat. For +was not Andrew's letter, which described the mob, in his pocket, and +burning a hole in his pocket as it had been ever since he received it? + +But then this was Julia's brother, and there was nothing he would not +do for Julia. So, sometime after the mud-clerk had ceased to speak, the +striker gave utterance to both impulses by replying, "He's no friend of +mine," a little crisply, and then softly adding, "Though I shouldn't +like to see him fleeced." + +By this time a new actor had appeared on the scene in the person of a +man with a black mustache and side-whiskers, who took a seat behind a +card-table near the bar. + +"H'llo!" said the mud-clerk in a low and lazy voice, "Parkins is back +again. After his scrape at Paducah last February, he disappeared, and +he's been shady ever since. He's growed whiskers since, so's not to be +recognized. But he'll be skeerce enough when we get to Paducah. Now, see +how quick he'll catch the greenies, won't you?" The prospect was so +charming as almost to stimulate the mud-clerk to speak with some +animation. + +But August Wehle, the striker on the Iatan, had an uncomfortable feeling +that he had seen that face before, and that the long mustache and +side-whiskers had grown in a remarkably short space of time. Could it be +that there were two men who could spread a smile over the lower half of +their faces in that automatic way, while the spider-eyes had no sort of +sympathy with it? Surely, this man with black whiskers and mustache was +not just like the singing-master at Sugar-Grove school-house, who had +"red-top hay on to his upper lip," and yet--and yet-- + +"Gentlemen," said Parkins--his Dickensian name would be Smirkins--"I +want to play a little game just for the fun of the thing. It is a trick +with three cards. I put down three cards, face up. Here is six of +diamonds, eight of spades, and the ace of hearts. Now, I will turn them +over so quickly that I will defy any of you to tell which is the ace. +Do you see? Now, I would like to bet the wine for the company that no +gentleman here can turn up the ace. All I want is a little sport. +Something to pass away the evening and amuse the company. Who will bet +the wine? The Scripture says that the hand is quicker than the eye, and +I warn you that if you bet, you will probably lose." And here he turned +the cards back, with their faces up, and the card which everybody felt +sure was the ace proved apparently to be that card. Most of the +on-lookers regretted that they had not bet, seeing that they would +certainly have won. Again the cards were put face down, and the company +was bantered to bet the wine. Nobody would bet. + +[Illustration: A NICE LITTLE GAME.] + +After a good deal of fluent talk, and much dexterous handling of the +cards, in a way that seemed clear enough to everybody, and that showed +that everybody's guess was right as to the place of the ace, the +near-sighted gentleman, who had drunk with Norman, offered to bet +five dollars. + +"Five dollars!" returned Parkins, laughing in derision, "five dollars! +Do you think I'm a gambler? I don't want any gentleman's money. I've got +all the money I need. However, if you would like to bet the wine with +me, I am agreed." + +The near-sighted gentleman declined to wager anything but just the five +dollars, and Parkins spurned his proposition with the scorn of a +gentleman who would on no account bet a cent of money. But he grew +excited, and bantered the whole crowd. Was there no _gentleman_ in the +crowd who would lay a wager of wine for the company on this interesting +little trick? It was strange to him that no gentleman had spirit enough +to make the bet. But no gentleman had spirit enough to bet the wine. +Evidently there were no gentlemen in the company. + +However, the near-sighted man with the white hat adorned with crape now +proposed in a crusty tone to bet ten dollars that he could lift the ace. +He even took out a ten-dollar bill, and, after examining it, in holding +it close to his nose as a penurious man might, extended his hand with, +"If you're in earnest, let's know it. I'll bet you ten." + +At this Parkins grew furious. He had never been so persistently badgered +in all his life. He'd have the gentleman know that he was not a gambler. +He had all the money he wanted, and as for betting ten dollars, he +shouldn't think of it. But now that the gentleman--he said _gentleman_ +with an emphasis--now that the gentleman seemed determined to bet money, +he would show him that he was not to be backed down. If the young man +would like to wager a hundred dollars, he would cheerfully bet with him. +If the gentleman did not feel able to bet a hundred dollars, he hoped he +would not say any more about it. He hadn't intended to bet money at all. +But he wouldn't bet less than a hundred dollars with anybody. A man who +couldn't afford to lose a hundred dollars, ought not to bet. + +"Who is this fellow in the white hat with spectacles?" August asked of +the mud-clerk. + +"That is Smith, Parkins's partner. He is only splurging round to start +up the greenies." And the mud-clerk spoke with an indifference and yet a +sort of _dilettante_ interest in the game that shocked his friend, +the striker. + +"Why don't they set these blacklegs ashore?" said August, whose love of +justice was strong. + +"_You_ tell," drawled the mud-clerk. "The first clerk's tried it, but +the old man protects 'em, and" (in a whisper) "get's his share, I guess. +He can set them off whenever he wants to." (I must explain that there +is only one "old man" on a steamboat--that is, the captain.) + +By this time Parkins had turned and thrown his cards so that everybody +knew or thought he knew where the ace was. Smith, the man with the white +hat, now rose five dollars more and offered to bet fifteen. But Parkins +was more indignant than ever. He told Smith to go away. He thrust his +hand into his pocket and drew out a handful of twenty-dollar +gold-pieces. "If any gentleman wants to bet a hundred dollars, let him +come on. A man who couldn't lose a hundred would better keep still." + +Smith now made a big jump. He'd go fifty. Parkins wouldn't listen to +fifty. He had said that he wouldn't bet less than a hundred, and he +wouldn't. He now pulled out handful after handful of gold, and piled the +double-eagles up like a fortification in front of him, while the crowd +surged with excitement. + +At last Mr. Smith, the near-sighted gentleman in spectacles, the +gentleman who wore black crape on a white hat, concluded to bet a +hundred dollars. He took out his little porte-monnaie and lifted thence +a hundred-dollar bill. + +"Well," said he angrily, "I'll bet you a hundred." And he laid down the +bill. Parkins piled five twenty-dollar gold-pieces atop it. Each man +felt that he could lift the ace in a moment. That card at the dealer's +right was certainly the ace. Norman was sure of it. He wished it had +been his wager instead of Smith's. But Parkins stopped Smith a moment. + +"Now, young man," he said, "if you don't feel perfectly able to lose +that hundred dollars, you'd better take it back." + +"I am just as able to lose it as you are," said Smith snappishly, and to +everybody's disappointment he lifted not the card everybody had fixed +on, but the middle one, and so lost his money. + +"Why didn't you take the other?" said Norman boastfully. "I knew it was +the ace." + +"Why didn't you bet, then?" said Smith, grinning a little. Norman wished +he had. But he had not a hundred dollars of his own, and he had +scruples--faint, and yet scruples, or rather alarms--at the thought of +risking his employer's money on a wager. While he was weighing motive +against motive, Smith bet again, and again, to Norman's vexation, +selected a card that was so obviously wrong that Norman thought it a +pity that so near-sighted a man should bet and lose. He wished he had a +hundred dollars of his own and--There, Smith was betting again. This +time he consulted Norman before making his selection, and of course +turned up the right card, remarking that he wished his eyes were so +keen! He would win a thousand dollars before bed-time if his eyes were +so good! Then he took Norman into partnership, and Norman found himself +suddenly in possession of fifty dollars, gotten without trouble. This +turned his brain. Nothing is so intoxicating to a weak man as money +acquired without toil. So Norman continued to bet, sometimes +independently, sometimes in partnership with, the gentlemanly Smith. He +was borne on by the excitement of varying fortune, a varying fortune +absolutely under control of the dealer, whose sleight-of-hand was +perfect. And the varying fortune had an unvarying tendency in the long +run--to put three stakes out Of five into the pockets of the gamblers, +who found the little game very interesting amusement for gentlemen. + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + +THE RESULT OF AN EVENING WITH GENTLEMEN. + +All the time that these smiling villains were by consummate art drawing +their weak-headed victim into their tolls, what was August doing? Where +were his prompt decision of character, his quick intelligence, his fine +German perseverance, that should have saved the brother of Julia +Anderson from harpies? Could our blue-eyed young countryman, who knew +how to cherish noble aspirations walking in a plowman's furrow--could he +stand there satisfying his revenge by witnessing the ruin of a young man +who, like many others, was wicked only because he was weak? + +In truth, August was a man whose feelings were persistent. His +resentment was--like his love--constant. But his love of justice was +higher and more persistent, and he could not have seen any one fleeced +in this merciless way without taking sides strongly with the victim. +Much less could he see the brother of Julia tempted on to the rocks by +the false lights of villainous wreckers without a great desire to save +him. For the letter of Andrew had ceased now to burn in his pocket. That +other letter--the only one that Julia had been able to send through +Cynthy Ann and Jonas--that other letter, written all over with such +tender extravagances as love feeds on; the thought of that other letter, +which told how beautiful and precious were the invitations to the weary +and heavy-laden, had stilled resentment, and there came instead a keen +desire to save Norman for the sake of Julia and justice. But how to do +it was an embarrassing question--a question that was more than August +could solve. There was a difficulty in the weakness and wrong-headedness +of Norman; a difficulty in Norman's prejudice against Dutchmen in +general and August in particular; a difficulty in the fact that August +was a sort of a fugitive, if not from justice, certainly from injustice. + +But when nearly a third of Norman's employer's money had gone into the +gamblers' heap, and when August began to understand that it was another +man's money that Norman was losing, and that the victim was threatened +by no half-way ruin, he determined to do something, even at the risk of +making himself known to Norman and to Parkins--was he Humphreys in +disguise?--and at the risk of arrest for house-breaking. August acted +with his eyes open to all the perils from gamblers' pistols and +gamblers' malice; and after he had started to interfere, the mud-clerk +called him back, and said, in his half-indifferent way: + +"Looky here, Gus, don't be a blamed fool. That's a purty little game. +That greeny's got to learn to let blacklegs alone, and he don't look +like one that'll take advice. Let him scorch a little; it'll do him +good. It's healthy for young men. That's the reason the old man don't +forbid it, I s'pose. And these fellows carry good shooting-irons with +hair-triggers, and I declare I don't want to be bothered writing home to +your mother, and explaining to her that you got killed in a fight with +blacklegs, I declare I don't, you see. And then you'll get the 'old man' +down on you, if you let a bird out of the trap in which he goes snucks; +you will, I declare. And you'll get walking-papers at Louisville. Let +the game alone. You haven't got any hand to play against Parkins, nohow; +and I reckon the greenhorns are his lawful prey. Cats couldn't live +without mice. You'll lose your place, I declare you will, if you say +a word." + +[Illustration: THE MUD-CLERK] + +August stopped long enough to take in the full measure of his sacrifice. +So far from being deterred by it, he was more than ever determined to +act. Not the love Julia, so much, now, but the farewell prayer and +benediction and the whole life and spirit of the sweet Moravian mother +in her child-full house at home were in his mind at this moment. Things +which a man will not do for the love of woman he may do for the love of +God--and it was with a sense of moral exaltation that August entered +into the lofty spirit of self-sacrifice he had seen in his mother, and +caught himself saying, in his heart, as he had heard her say, "Let us do +anything for the Father's sake!" Some will call this cant. So much the +worse for them. This motive, too little felt in our day--too little felt +in any day--is the great impulse that has enabled men to do the bravest +things that have been done. The sublimest self-sacrifice is only +possible to a man by the aid of some strong moral tonic. God's love is +the chief support of the strongest spirits. + +August touched Norman on the arm. The face of the latter expressed +anything but pleasure at meeting him, now that he felt guilty. But this +was not the uppermost feeling with Norman. He noticed that August's +clothes were spotted with engine-grease, and his first fear was of +compromising his respectability. + +In a hurried way August began to explain to him that he was betting with +gamblers, but Smith stood close to them, looking at August in such a +contemptuous way as to make Norman feel very uncomfortable, and Parkins +seeing the crowd attracted by August's explanations--which he made in +some detail, by way of adapting himself to Norman--of the trick by which +the upper card is thrown out first, Parkins said, "I see you understand +the game, young man. If you do, why don't you bet?" + +At this the crowd laughed, and Norman drew away from the striker's +greasy clothes, and said that he didn't want to speak any further to a +burglar, he believed. But August followed, determined to warn him +against Smith. Smith was ahead of him, however, saving to Norman, "Look +out for your pockets--that greasy fellow will rob you." + +And Norman, who was nothing if not highly respectable, resolved to +shake off the troublesome "Dutchman" at once. "I don't know what you are +up to now, but at home you are known as a thief. So please let me alone, +will you?" This Norman tried to say in an annihilating way. + +The crowd looked for a fight. August said loud enough to be heard, "You +know very well that you lie. I wanted to save you from being a thief, +but you are betting money now that is not yours." + +The company, of course, sympathized with the gentleman and against the +machine-oil on the striker's clothes, so that there arose quickly a +murmur, started by Smith, "Put the bully out," and August was "hustled." +It is well that he was not shot. + +It was quite time for him to go on watch now; for the loud-ticking +marine-clock over the window of the clerk's office pointed to three +minutes past twelve, and the striker hurried to his post at the +starboard engine, with the bitterness of defeat and the shame of insult +in his heart. He had sacrificed his place, doubtless, and risked much +beside, and all for nothing. The third engineer complained of his +tardiness in not having relieved him three minutes before, and August +went to his duties with a bitter heart. To a man who is persistent, as +August was, defeat of any sort is humiliating. + +As for Norman, he bet after this just to show his independence and to +show that the money was his own, as well as in the vain hope of winning +back what he had lost. He bet every cent. Then he lost his watch, and at +half-past one o'clock he went to his state-room, stripped of all loose +valuables, and sweating great drops. And the mud-clerk, who was still in +the office, remarked to himself, with a pleasant chuckle, that it was +good for him; he declared it was; teach the fellow to let monte alone, +and keep his eyes peeled when he traveled. It would so! + +The idea was a good one, and he went down to the starboard engine and +told the result of the nice little game to his friend the striker, +drawling it out in a relishful way, how the blamed idiot never stopped +till they'd got his watch, and then looked like as if he'd a notion to +jump into the "drink." But 'twould cure him of meddlin' with monte. +It would so! + +He walked away, and August was just reflecting on the heartlessness of +his friend, when the mud-clerk came back again, and began drawling his +words out as before, just as though each distinct word were of a +delightful flavor and he regretted that he must part with it. + +"I've got you even with Parkins, old fellow. He'll be strung up on a +lamp-post at Paducah, I reckon. I saw a Paducah man aboard, and I put a +flea in his ear. We've got to lay there an hour or two to put off a +hundred barrels of molasses and two hundred sacks of coffee and two lots +of plunder. There'll be a hot time for Parkins. He let on to marry a +girl and fooled her. They'll teach him a lesson. You'll be off watch, +and we'll have some fun looking on." And the mud-clerk evidently thought +that it would be even funnier to see Parkins hanged than it had been to +see him fleece Norman. Gus the striker did not see how either scene +could be very entertaining. But he was sick at heart, and one could not +expect him to show much interest in manly sports. + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + +WAKING UP AN UGLY CUSTOMER. + +The steady beat of the wheels and the incessant clank of the engines +went on as usual. The boat was loaded almost to her guards, and did not +make much speed. The wheels kept their persistent beat upon the water, +and the engines kept their rhythmical clangor going, until August found +himself getting drowsy. Trouble, with forced inaction, nearly always has +a soporific tendency, and a continuous noise is favorable to sleep. Once +or twice August roused himself to a sense of his responsibility and +battled with his heaviness. It was nearing the end of his watch, for the +dog-watch of two hours set in at four o'clock. But it seemed to him that +four o'clock would never come. + +An incident occurred just at this moment that helped him to keep his +eyes open. A man went aft through the engine-room with a red +handkerchief tied round his forehead. In spite of this partial disguise +August perceived that it was Parkins. He passed through to the place +where the steerage or deck passengers are, and then disappeared from +August's sight. He had meant to disembark at a wood-yard just below +Paducah, but for some reason the boat did not stop, and now, as August +guessed, he was hiding himself from Paducah eyes. He was not much too +soon, for the great bell on the hurricane-deck was already ringing for +Paducah, and the summer dawn was showing itself faintly through the +river fog. + +The alarm-bell rang in the engine-room, and Wehle stood by his engine. +Then the bell rang to stop the starboard engine, and August obeyed it. +The pilot of a Western steamboat depends much upon his engines for +steerage in making a landing, and the larboard engine was kept running a +while longer in order to bring the deeply-loaded boat round to her +landing at the primitive wharf-boat of that day. There is something fine +in the faith with which an engineer obeys the bell of the pilot, not +knowing what may be ahead, not inquiring what may be the effect of the +order, but only doing exactly what he is bid when he is bid. August had +stopped his engine, and stood trying to keep his mind off Parkins and +the events of the night, that he might be ready to obey the next signal +for his engine. But the bell rang next to stop the other engine, at +which the second engineer stood, and August was so free from +responsibility in regard to that that he hardly noticed the sound of the +bell, until it rang a second time more violently. Then he observed that +the larboard engine still ran. Was Munson dead or asleep? Clearly it was +August's duty to stand by his own engine. But then he was startled to +think what damage to property or life might take place from the failure +of the second engineer to stop his engine. While he hesitated, and all +these considerations flashed through his mind, the pilot's bell rang +again long and loud, and August then, obeying an impulse rather than a +conviction, ran over to the other engine, stopped it, and then, +considering that it had run so long against orders, he reversed it and +set it to backing without waiting instructions. Then he seized Munson +and woke him, and hurried back to his post. But the larboard engine had +not made three revolutions backward before the boat, hopelessly thrown +from her course by the previous neglect, struck the old wharf-boat and +sunk it. But for the promptness and presence of mind with which Wehle +acted, the steamboat itself would have suffered severely. The mate and +then the captain came rushing into the engine-room. Munson was +discharged at once, and the striker was promised engineer's wages. + +Gus went off watch at this moment, and the mud-clerk said to him, in his +characteristically indifferent voice, "Such luck, I declare! I was sure +you would be dismissed for meddling with Parkins, and here you are +promoted, I declare!" + +The mishap occasioned much delay to the boat, as it was very +inconvenient to deliver freight at that day and at that stage of water +without the intervention of the wharf-boat. A full hour was consumed in +finding a landing, and in rigging the double-staging and temporary +planks necessary to get the molasses and coffee and household "plunder" +ashore. Some hint that Parkins was on the river had already reached +Paducah, and the sheriff and two deputies and a small crowd were at the +landing looking for him. A search of the boat failed to discover him, +and the crowd would have left the landing but for occasional hints slyly +thrown out by the mud-clerk as he went about over the levee collecting +freight-bills. These hints, given in a non-committal way, kept the crowd +alive with expectation, and when the rumors thus started spread abroad, +the levee was soon filled with an excited and angry multitude. + +If it had been a question of delivering a criminal to justice, August +would not have hesitated to tell the sheriff where to look. But he very +well knew that the sheriff could not convey the man through the mob +alive, and to deliver even such a scoundrel to the summary vengeance of +a mob was something that he could not find it in his heart to do. + +In truth, the sheriff and his officers did not seek very zealously for +their man. Under the circumstances, it was probable he would not +surrender himself without a fight, in which somebody would be killed, +and besides there must ensue a battle with the mob. It was what they +called an ugly job, and they were not loth to accept the captain's +assurance that the gambler had gone ashore. + +While August was unwilling to deliver the hunted villain to a savage +death, he began to ask himself why he might not in some way use his +terror in the interest of justice. For he had just then seen the +wretched and bewildered face of Norman looking ghastly enough in the fog +of the morning. + +At last, full of this notion, and possessed, too, by his habit of +accomplishing at all hazards what he had begun, August strolled back +through the now quiet engine-room to the deck-passengers' quarter. It +was about half an hour before six o'clock, when the dog-watch would +expire and he must go on duty again. In one of the uppermost of the +filthy bunks, in the darkest corner, near the wheel, he discovered what +he thought to be his man. The deck-passengers were still asleep, lying +around stupidly. August paused a moment, checked by a sense of the +dangerousness of his undertaking. Then he picked up a stick of wood and +touched the gambler, who could not have been very sound asleep, lying in +hearing of the curses of the mob on the shore. At first Parkins did not +move, but August gave him a still more vigorous thrust. Then he peered +out between the blanket and the handkerchief over his forehead. + +"I will take that money you won last night from that young man, if you +please." + +[Illustration: WAKING UP AN UGLY CUSTOMER.] + +Parkins saw that it was useless to deny his identity. "Do you want to be +shot?" he asked fiercely. + +"Not any more than you want to be hung," said August. "The one would +follow the other in five minutes. Give back that money and I will +go away." + +The gambler trembled a minute. He was fairly at bay. He took out a roll +of bills and handed it to August. There was but five hundred. Smith had +the other four hundred and fifty, he said. But August had a quiet German +steadiness of nerve. He said that unless the other four hundred and +fifty were paid at once he should call in the sheriff or the crowd. +Parkins knew that every minute August stood there increased his peril, +and human nature is now very much like human nature in the days of Job. +The devil understood the subject very well when he said that all that a +man hath will he give for his life. Parkins paid the four hundred and +fifty in gold-pieces. He would have paid twice that if August had +demanded it. + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + +AUGUST AND NORMAN. + +In a story such as I meant this to be, the development of character +stands for more than the evolution of the plot, and herein is the true +significance of this contact of Wehle with the gamblers, and, indeed, of +this whole steamboat life. It is not enough for one to be good in a +country neighborhood; the sharp contests and severe ordeals of more +exciting life are needed to give temper to the character. August Wehle +was hardly the same man on this morning at Paducah, with the nine +hundred and fifty dollars in his pocket, that he had been the evening +before, when he first felt the sharp resentment against the man who had +outraged his father. In acting on a high plane, one is unconsciously +lifted to that plane. Men become Christians sometimes from the effect of +sudden demands made upon their higher moral nature, demands which compel +them to choose between a life higher than their present living, or a +moral degradation. Such had been August's experience. He had been drawn +upward toward God by the opportunity and necessity for heroic action. I +have no doubt the good Samaritan got more out of his own kindness than +the robbed Jew did. + +Before he had a chance to restore the money to its rightful owner, the +two hours of dog-watch had expired, and he was obliged to go on watch +again, much to his annoyance. He had been nearly twenty-four hours +without sleep, and after a night of such excitement it was unpleasant as +well as perilous to have to hold this money, which did not belong to +him, for six hours longer, liable at any minute to get into difficulty +through any scheme of the gamblers and their allies, by which his +recovery of the money might be misinterpreted. The morning seemed to +wear away so slowly. All the possibilities of Parkins's attacking him, +of young Anderson's committing suicide, and of the misconstruction that +might be put upon his motives--the making of his disinterested action +seem robbery--haunted his excitable imagination. At last, while the +engines were shoving their monotonous shafts backward and forward, and +the "palatial steamer" Iatan was slowly pushing her way up the stream, +August grew so nervous over his money that he resolved to relieve +himself of part of it. So he sent for the mud-clerk by a passing +deck-hand. + +"I want you to keep this money for me until I get off watch," said +August. "I made Parkins stand and deliver this morning while we were +at Paducah." + +"You did?" said the mud-clerk, not offering to touch the money. "You +risked your life, I declare, for that fool that called you a thief. You +are a fool, Gus, and nothing but your blamed good luck can save you from +getting salivated, bright and early, some morning. Not a great deal I +won't take that money. I don't relish lead, and I've got to live among +these fellows all my days, and I don't hold that money for anybody. The +old man would ship me at Louisville, seeing I never stopped anybody's +engine and backed it in a hurry, as you did. If I'd known where Parkins +was, I'd a dropped a gentle word in the ear of the crowd outside, but I +wouldn't a pulled that greeny's coffee-nuts out of the fire, and I won't +hold the hot things for you. I declare I won't. Saltpeter wouldn't save +me if I did." + +So Gus had to content himself in his nervousness, not allayed by this +speech, und keep the money in his pocket until noon. And, after all the +presentiment he had had, noon came round. Presentiments generally come +from the nerves, and signify nothing; but nobody keeps a tally of the +presentiments and auguries that fail. When the first-engineer and a new +man took the engines at noon, Gus was advised by the former to get some +sleep, but there was no sleep for him until he had found Norman, who +trembled at the sight of him. + +"Where is your state-room?" said August sternly, for he couldn't bring +himself to speak kindly to the poor fellow, even in his misery. + +Norman turned pale. He had been thinking of suicide all the morning, but +he was a coward, and now he evidently felt sure that he was to be killed +by August. He did not dare disobey, but led the way, stopping to try to +apologize two or three times, but never getting any further +than "I--I--" + +Once in the state-room, he sat down on the berth and gasped, "I--I--" + +"Here is your money," said August, handing it to him. "I made the +gambler give it up." + +"I--I--" said the astonished and bewildered Norman. + +"You needn't say a word. You are a cowardly scoundrel, and if you say +anything, I'll knock you down for treating my father as you did. Only +for--for--well, I didn't want to see you fleeced." + +Norman was ashamed for once, and hung his head. It touched the heart of +August a little, but the remembrance of the attack of the mob on his +father made him feel hard again, and so his generous act was performed +ungraciously. + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + +AGROUND. + +Not the boat. The boat ran on safely enough to Louisville, and tied up +at the levee, and discharged her sugar und molasses, and took on a new +cargo of baled hay and corn and flour, and went back again, and made I +know not how many trips, and ender her existence I can not tell how or +when. What does become of the old steamboats? The Iatan ran for years +after she tied up at Louisville that summer morning, and then perhaps +she was blown up or burned up; perchance some cruel sawyer transfixed +her; perchance she was sunk by ice, or maybe she was robbed of her +engines and did duty as barge, or, what is more probable, she wore out +like the one-hoss shay, and just tumbled to pieces simultaneously. + +It was not the gambler who got aground that morning. He had yet other +nice little games, with three cards or more or none, to play. + +It was not the mud-clerk who ran aground--good, non-committal soul, who +never look sides where it would do him any harm, and who never worried +himself about anything. Dear, drawling, optimist philosopher, who could +see how other people's mishaps were best for them, and who took good +care not to have any himself! It was not he that ran aground. + +It was not Norman Anderson who ran aground. He walked into the store +with the proud and manly consciousness of having done his duty, he made +his returns of every cent of money that had come into his hands, and, +like all other faithful stewards, received the cordial commendation of +his master. + +But August Wehle the striker, just when he was to be made an engineer, +when he thought he had smooth sailing, suddenly and provokingly found +himself fast aground, with no spar or capstan by which he might help +himself off, with no friendly craft alongside to throw him a hawser and +pull him off. + +It seems that when the captain promised him promotion, he did not know +anything of August's interference with the gamblers. But when Parkins +filed his complaint, it touched the captain. It was generally believed +among the _employés_ of the boat that a percentage of gamblers' gains +was one of the "old man's" perquisites, and he was not the only +steamboat captain who profited by the nice little games in the cabin +upon which he closed both eyes. And this retrieved nine hundred and +fifty dollars was a dead loss of--well, it does not matter how much, to +the virtuous and highly honorable captain. His proportion would have +been large enough at least to pay his wife's pew-rent in St. James's +Church, with a little something over for charitable purposes. For the +captain did not mind giving a disinterested twenty-five dollars +occasionally to those charities that were willing to show their +gratitude by posting his name as director, or his wife's as "Lady +Manageress." In this case his right hand never knew what his left hand +did--how it got the money, for instance. + +So when August drew his pay he was informed that he was discharged. No +reason was given. He tried to see the captain. But the captain was in +the bosom of his family, kissing his own well-dressed little boys, and +enjoying the respect which only exemplary and provident fathers enjoy. +And never asking down in his heart if these boys might become gamblers' +victims, or gamblers, indeed. The captain could not see August the +striker, for he was at home, and must not be interfered with by any of +his subordinates. Besides, it was Sunday, and he could not be intruded +upon--the rector of St. James's was dining with him on his wife's +invitation, and it behooved him to walk circumspectly, not with +eye-service as a man-pleaser, but serving the Lord. + +So he refuted to see the anxious striker, and turned to compliment the +rector on his admirable sermon on the sin of Judas, who sold his master +for thirty pieces of silver. + +And August Wehle had nothing left to do. The river was falling fast, the +large boats above the Falls were, in steamboat-man's phrase, "laying up" +in the mouths of the tributaries and other convenient harbors, there +were plenty of engineers unemployed, and there were no vacancies. + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. + +CYNTHY ANN'S SACRIFICE. + +Jonas had been all his life, as he expressed it in his mixed rhetoric, +"a wanderin' sand-hill crane, makin' many crooked paths, and, like the +cards in French monte, a-turnin' up suddently in mighty on-expected +places." He had been in every queer place from Halifax to Texas, and +then had come back to his home again. Naturally cautious, and especially +suspicious of the female sex, it is not strange that he had not married. +Only when he "tied up to the same w'arf-boat alongside of Cynthy Ann, he +thought he'd found somebody as was to be depended on in a fog or a +harricane." This he told to Cynthy Ann as a reason why she should accept +his offer of marriage. + +"Jonas," said Cynthy Ann, "don't flatter. My heart is dreadful weak, and +prone to the vanities of this world. It makes me abhor myself in dust +and sackcloth fer you to say such things about poor unworthy me." + +"Ef I think 'em, why shouldn't I say 'em? I don't know no law agin +tellin' the truth ef you git into a place where you can't no ways help +it. I don't call you angel, fer you a'n't; you ha'nt got no wings nor +feathers. I don't say as how as you're pertikeler knock-down handsome. +I don't pertend that you're a spring chicken. I don't lie nor flatter. I +a'n't goin' it blind, like young men in love. But I do say, with my eyes +open and in my right senses, and feelin' solemn, like a man a-makin' his +last will and testament, that they a'n't no sech another woman to be +found outside the leds of the Bible betwixt the Bay of Fundy and the Rio +Grande. I've 'sought round this burdened airth,' as the hymn says, and +they a'n't but jest one. Ef that one'll jest make me happy, I'll fold my +weary pinions and settle down in a rustic log-cabin and raise corn and +potaters till death do us part." + +Cynthy trembled. Cynthy was a saint, a martyr to religious feeling, a +medieval nun in her ascetic eschewing of the pleasures of life. But +Cynthy Ann was also a woman. And a woman whose spring-time had paused. +When love buds out thus late, when the opportunity for the woman's +nature to blossom comes unexpectedly upon one at her age, the temptation +is not easily resisted. Cynthy trembled, but did not quite yield up her +Christian constancy. + +"Jonas, I don't know whether I'd orto or not. I don't deny--I think I'd +better ax brother Goshorn, you know, sence what would it profit ef I +gained you or any joy in this world, and then come short by settin' you +up fer a idol in my heart? I don't know whether a New Light is a +onbeliever or not, and whether I'd be onequally yoked or not. I must ax +them as knows better nor I do." + +"Well, ef I'm a onbeliever, they's nobody as could teach me to believe +quicker'n you could. I never did believe much in women folks till I +believed in you." + +"But that's the sin of it, Jonas. I'd believe in you, and you'd believe +in me, and we'd be puttin' our trust in the creatur instid of the +Creator, and the Creator is mighty jealous of our idols, and He would +take us away fer idolatry." + +"No, but I wouldn't worship you, though I'd rather worship you than +anybody else ef I was goin' into the worshipin' business. But you see I +a'n't, honey. I wouldn't sacrifice to you no lambs nor sheep, I wouldn't +pray to you, nor I wouldn't kiss your shoes, like people does the +Pope's. An' I know you wouldn't make no idol of me like them Greek gods +that Andrew's got picters of. I a'n't handsome enough by a long shot fer +a Jupiter or a 'Pollo. An' I tell you, Cynthy, 'tain't no sin to love. +Love is the fullfilling of the law." + +But Cynthy Ann persisted that she must consult Brother Goshorn, the +antiquated class-leader at the cross-roads. Brother Goshorn was a good +man, but Jonas had a great contempt for him. He was a strainer out of +gnats, though I do not think he swallowed camels. He always stood at the +door of the love-feast and kept out every woman with jewelry, every girl +who had an "artificial" in her bonnet, every one who wore curls, every +man whose hair was beyond what he considered the regulation length of +Scripture, and every woman who wore a veil. In support of this last +prohibition he quoted Isaiah iii, 23: "The glasses and the fine linen +and the hoods and the veils." + +To him Cynthy Ann presented the case with much trepidation. All her +hopes for this world hung upon it. But this consideration did not +greatly affect Brother Goshorn. Hopes and joys were as nothing to him +where the strictness of discipline was involved. The Discipline meant +more to a mind of his cast than the Decalogue or the Beatitudes. He +shook his head. He did not know. He must consult Brother Hall. Now, +Brother Hall was the young preacher traveling his second year, very +young and very callow. Ten years of the sharp attritions of a Methodist +itinerant's life would take his unworldliness out of him and develop his +practical sense as no other school in the world could develop it. But as +yet Brother Hall had not rubbed off any of his sanctimoniousness, had +not lost any of his belief that the universe should be governed on high +general principles with no exceptions. + +So when Brother Goshorn informed him that one of his members, Sister +Cynthy Ann Dyke, wished to marry, and to marry a man that was a New +Light, and had asked his opinion, and that he did not certainly know +whether New Lights were believers or not, Brother Hall did not stop to +inquire what Jonas might be personally. He looked and felt very solemn, +and said that it was a pity for a Christian to marry a New Light. It was +clearly a sin, for a New Light was an Arian. And an Arian was just as +good as an infidel. An Arian robbed Christ of His supreme deity, and +since he did not worship the Trinity in the orthodox sense he must +worship a false god. He was an idolater therefore, and it was a sin to +be yoked together with such an one. + +Many men more learned than the callow but pious and sincere Brother Hall +have left us in print just such deductions. + +When this decision was communicated to the scrupulous Cynthy Ann, she +folded her hopes as one lays away the garment of a dead friend; she west +to her little room and prayed; she offered a sacrifice to God not less +costly than Abraham's, and in a like sublime spirit. She watered the +plant In the old cracked blue-and-white tea-pot, she noticed that it was +just about to bloom, and then she dropped one tear upon it, and because +it suggested Jonas in some way, she threw it away, resolved not to have +any idols in her heart. And, doubtless, God received the sacrifice, +mistaken and needless as it was, a token of the faithfulness of her +heart to her duty as she understood it. + +[Illustration: CYNTHY ANN'S SACRIFICE.] + +Cynthy Ann explained it all to Jonas in a severe and irrevocable way. +Jonas looked at her a moment, stunned. + +"Did Brother Goshorn venture to send me any of his wisdom, in the way of +advice, layin' round loose, like counterfeit small change, cheap +as dirt?" + +"Well, yes," said Cynthy Ann, hesitating. + +"I'll bet the heft of my fortin', to be paid on receipt of the amount, +that I kin tell to a T what the good Christian wanted me to do." + +"Don't be oncharitable, Jonas. Brother Goshorn is a mighty sincere man." + +"So he is, but his bein' sincere don't do me no good. He wanted you to +advise me to jine the Methodist class as a way of gittin' out of the +difficulty. And you was too good a Christian to ask me to change fer any +sech reason, knowin' I wouldn't be fit for you ef I did." + +Cynthy Ann was silent. She would have liked to have Jonas join the +church with her, but if he had done it now she herself would have +doubted his sincerity. + +"Now, looky here, Cynthy, ef you'll say you don't love me, and never +can, I'll leave you to wunst, and fly away and mourn like a turtle-dove. +But so long as it's nobody but Goshorn, I'm goin' to stay and litigate +the question till the Millerite millennium comes. I appeal to Cæesar or +somebody else. Neither Brother Goshorn nor Brother Hall knows enough to +settle this question. I'm agoin' to the persidin' elder. And you can't +try a man and hang him and then send him to the penitentiary fer the +rest of his born days without givin' him one chance to speak fer hisself +agin the world and everybody else. I'm goin' to see the persidin' elder +myself and plead my own cause, and ef he goes agin me, I'll carry it up +to the bishop or the archbishop or the nex' highest man in the heap, +till I git plum to the top, and ef they all go agin me, I'll begin over +agin at the bottom with Brother Goshorn, and keep on till I find a man +that's got common-sense enough to salt his religion with." + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. + +JULIA'S ENTERPRISE. + +4 August was very sick at the castle. This wag the first news of his +return that reached Julia through Jonas and Cynthy Ann. + +But in my interest in Jonas and Cynthy Ann, of whom I think a great +deal, I forgot to say that long before the events mentioned in the last +chapter, Humphreys had been suddenly called away from his peaceful +retreat in the hill country of Clark township. In fact, the "important +business," or "the illness of a friend," whichever it was, occurred the +very next day after Norman Anderson's father returned from Louisville, +and reported that he had secured for his son an "outside situation," +that is to say, a place as a collector. + +When he had gone, Jonas remarked to Cynthy Ann, "Where the carcass is, +there the turkey-buzzards is gethered. That shinin' example of early +piety never plays but one game. That is, fox-and-geese. He's gone after +a green goslin' now, and he'll find him when he's fattest." + +But the gentle singing-master had come back from his excursion, and was +taking a profound interest in the coming end of the world. Jonas +observed that it "seemed like as ef he hed charge of the whole +performance, and meant to shet up the sky like a blue cotton umbrell. +He's got a single eye, and it's the same ole game. Fox and geese always, +and he's the fox." + +Humphreys still lived at Samuel Anderson's, still devoted himself to +pleasing Mrs. Abigail, still bowed regretfully to Julia, and spoke +caressingly to Betsey Malcolm at every opportunity. + +But August was sick at the castle. He was very sick. Every morning Dr. +Dibrell, a "calomel-doctor"--not a steam-doctor--rode by the house on +his way to Andrew's, and every morning Mrs. Anderson wondered afresh who +was sick down that way. But the doctor staid so long that Mrs. Abigail +made up her mind it must be somebody four or five miles away, and so +dismissed the matter from her mind. For August's return had been +kept secret. + +But Julia noticed, in her heart of hearts, and with ever-increasing +affliction, that the doctor staid longer each day than on the day +before, and she thought she noticed also an increasing anxiety on his +face as he rode home again. Her desire to know the real truth, and to +see August, to do for him, to give her life for him, were wearing her +away. It is hard to see a friend go from you when you have done +everything. But to have a friend die within your reach, while you are +yet unable to help him, is the saddest of all. All this anxiety Julia +suffered without even the blessed privilege of showing it. The pent-up +fire consumed her, and she was at times almost distract. Every morning +she managed to be on the upper porch when the doctor went by, and from +the same watch-tower she studied his face when he went back. + +Then came a morning when there were two doctors. A physician from the +county-seat village went by, in company with Dr. Dibrell. So there must +be a consultation at the castle. Julia knew then that the worst had to +be looked in the face. And she longed to get away from under the +searching black eyes of her mother and utter the long-pent cry of +anguish. Another day of such unuttered pain would drive her clean mad. + +That evening Jonas came over and sought an interview with Cynthy Ann. He +had not been to see her since his unsuccessful courtship. Julia felt +that he was the bearer of a message. But Mrs. Anderson was in one of her +most exacting humors, and it gave her not a little pleasure to keep +Cynthy Ann, on one pretext and another, all the evening at her side. Had +Cynthy Ann been less submissive and scrupulous, she might have broken +away from this restraint, but in truth she was censuring herself for +having any backsliding, rebellious wish to talk with Jonas after she had +imagined the idol cast out of her heart entirely. Her conscience was a +tank-master not less grievous than Mrs. Anderson, and, between the two, +Jonas had to go away without leaving his message. And Julia had to keep +her breaking heart in suspense a while longer. + +Why did she not elope long ago and get rid of her mother? Because she +was Julia, and being Julia, conscientious, true, and filial in spite of +her unhappy life, her own character built a wall against such a +disobedience. Nearly all limitations are inside. You could do almost +anything if you could give yourself up to it. To go in the teeth of +one's family is the one thing that a person of Julia's character and +habits finds next to impossible. A beneficent limitation of nature; for +the cases in which the judgment of a girl of eighteen is better than +that of her parents are very few. Besides, the inevitable +"heart-disease" was a specter that guarded the gates of Julia's prison. +Night after night she sat looking out over the hills sleeping in hazy +darkness, toward the hollow in which stood the castle; night after night +she had half-formed the purpose of visiting August, and then the +life-long habit of obedience and a certain sense of delicacy held her +back. But on this night, after the consultation, she felt that she would +see him if her seeing him brought down the heavens. + +It was a very dark night. She sat waiting for hours--very long hours +they seemed to her--and then, at midnight, she began to get ready +to start. + +Only those who have taken such a step can understand the pain of +deciding, the agony of misgivings in the execution, the trembling that +Julia felt when she turned the brass knob on the front door and lifted +the latch--lifted the latch slowly and cautiously, for it was near the +door of her mother's room--and then crept out like a guilty thing into +the dark dampness of the night, groping her way to the gate, and +stumbling along down the road. It had been raining, and there was not +one star-twinkle in the sky; the only light was that of glow-worms +illuminating here and there two or three blades of grass by feeble +shining. Now and then a fire-fly made a spot of light in the blackness, +only to leave a deeper spot of blackness when he shut off his +intermittent ray. And when at last Julia found herself at the place +where the path entered the woods, the blackness ahead seemed still more +frightful. She had to grope, recognizing every deviation from the +well-beaten path by the rustle of the dead leaves which lay, even in +summer, half a foot deep upon the ground. The "fox-fire," rotting logs +glowing with a faint luminosity, startled her several times, and the +hooting-owl's shuddering bass--hoo! hoo! hoo-oo-ah-h! (like the awful +keys of the organ which "touch the spinal cord of the universe")--sent +all her blood to her heart. Under ordinary circumstances, she surely +would not have started at the rustling made by the timid hare in the +thicket near by. There was no reason why she should shiver so when a +misstep caused her to scratch her face with the thorny twigs of a wild +plum-tree. But the effort necessary to the undertaking and the agony of +the long waiting had exhausted her nervous force, and she had none left +for fortitude. So that when she arrived at Andrew's fence and felt her +way along to the gate, and heard the hoarse, thunderous baying of his +great St. Bernard dog, she was ready to faint. But a true instinct makes +such a dog gallant. It is a vile cur that will harm a lady. Julia walked +trembling up to the front-door of the castle, growled at by the huge +black beast, and when the Philosopher admitted her, some time after she +had knocked, she sank down fainting into a chair. + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. + +THE SECRET STAIRWAY. + +"God bless you!" said Andrew as he handed her a gourd of water to revive +her. "You are as faithful as Hero. You are another Heloise. You are as +brave as the Maid of Orleans. I will never say that women are unfaithful +again. God bless you, my daughter! You have given me faith in your sex. +I have been a lonely man; a boughless, leafless trunk, shaken by the +winter winds. But _you_ are my niece. _You_ know how to be faithful. I +am proud of you! Henceforth I call you my daughter. If you _were_ my +daughter, you would be to me all that Margaret Roper was to Sir Thomas +More." And the shaggy man of egotistic and pedantic speech, but of +womanly sensibilities, was weeping. + +The reviving Julia begged to know how August was. + +"Ah, constant heart! And he is constant as you are. Noble fellow! I will +not deceive you. The doctors think that he will not live more than +twenty-four hours. But he is only dying to see you, now. Your coming may +revive him. We sent for you this morning by Jonas, hoping you might +escape and come in some way. But Jonas could not get his message to +you. Some angel must have brought you. It is an augury of good." + +The hopefulness of Andrew sprang out of his faith in an ideal, right +outcome. Julia could not conceal from herself the fact that his opinion +had no ground. But in such a strait as hers, she could not help clinging +even to this support. + +Andrew was a little perplexed. How to take Julia up-stairs? Mrs. Wehle +and Wilhelmina and the doctor went in regularly, not by the rope-ladder, +but by a more secure wooden one which he had planted against the outside +of the house. But Andrew had suddenly conceived so exalted an opinion of +his niece's virtues that he was unwilling to lead her into the upper +story in that fashion. His imagination had invested her with all the +glories of all the heroines, from Penelope to Beatrice, and from +Beatrice to Scott's Rebecca. At last a sudden impulse seized him. + +"My dear daughter, they say that genius is to madness close allied. When +I built this house I was in a state bordering on insanity, I suppose. I +pleased my whims--my whims were my only company--I pleased my whims in +building an American castle. These whims begin to seem childish to me +now. I put in a secret stairway. No human foot but my own has ever +trodden it. August, whom I love more than any other, and who is one of +the few admitted to my library, has always ascended by the rope-ladder. +But you are my niece; I would you were my daughter. I will signalize my +reverence for you by showing up the stairway the woman who knows how to +love and be faithful, the feet that would be worthy of golden steps if I +had them. Come." + +Spite of her grief and anxiety, Julia was impressed and oppressed with +the reverence shown her by her uncle. She had a veneration almost +superstitious for the Philosopher's learning. She was not accustomed to +even respectful treatment, and to be worshiped in this awful way by such +a man was something almost as painful as it was pleasant. + +The entrance to the stairway, if that could be called a stairway which +was as difficult of ascent as a ladder, was through a closet by the side +of the donjon chimney, and the logs had been so arranged without and +within that the space occupied by the narrow and zigzag stairs was not +apparent. Up these stairs he took Julia, leaving her in a closet above. +As this closet was situated alongside the chimney, it opened, of course, +into the small corner room which I have before described, and in which +August was now lying. Andrew descended the stairs and entered the upper +story again by the outside ladder. He thought best to prepare August for +the coming of Julia, lest joy should destroy a life that was so +far wasted. + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. + +THE INTERVIEW. + +We left August on that summer day on the levee at Louisville without +employment. He was not exactly disheartened, but he was homesick. That +he was forbidden to go back by threats of prosecution for his +burglarious manner of entering Samuel Anderson's house was reason enough +for wanting to go; that his father's family were not yet free from +danger was a stronger reason; but strongest of all, though he blushed to +own it to himself, was the longing to be where he might perchance +sometimes see the face he had seen that spring morning in the bottom of +a sun-bonnet. Right manfully did he fight against his discouragement and +his homesickness, and his longing to see Julia. It was better to stay +where he was. It was better not to go back beaten. If he surrendered so +easily, he would never put himself into a situation where he could claim +Julia with self-respect. He would stay and make his way in the world +somehow. But making his way in the world did not seem half so easy now +us it had on that other morning in March when he stood in the barn +talking to Julia. Making your fortune always seems so easy until you've +tried it. It seems rather easy in a novel, and still easier in a +biography. But no Samuel Smiles ever writes the history of those who +fail; the vessels that never came back from their venturous voyages left +us no log-books. Many have written the History of Success. What +melancholy Plutarch shall arise to record, with a pen dipped in +wormwood, the History of Failure? + +No! he would not go back defeated. August said this over bravely, but a +little too often, and with a less resolute tone at each repetition. He +contemned himself for his weakness, and tried, but tried in vain, to +form other plans. Had he known how much one's physical state has to do +with one's force of character, he might have guessed that he did not +deserve the blame he meted out to himself. He might have remembered what +Shakespeare's Portia says to Brutus, that "humour hath his hour with +every man." But with a dull and unaccountable aching in his head and +back he compromised with himself. He would go to the castle and pass a +day or two. Then he would return and fight it out. + +So he got on the packet Isaac Shelby, and was soon shaking with a chill +that showed how thoroughly malaria had pervaded his system. His very +bones seemed frozen. But if you ever shook with such a chill, or rather +if you were ever shaken by such a chill, taking hold of you like a +demoniacal possession; if you ever felt your brain congealing, your icy +bones breaking, your frosty heart becoming paralyzed, with a cold no +fire could reach, you know what it is; and if you have not felt it, no +words of mine can make you understand the sensations. After the chill +came the period when August felt himself between two parts of Milton's +hell, between a sea of ice and a sea of fire; sometimes the hot wave +scorched him, then it retired again before the icy one. At last it was +all hot, and the boiling blood scalded his palms and steamed to his +brain, bewildering his thoughts and almost blinding his eyes. He had +determined when he started to get off at a wood-yard three miles below +Andrew's castle, to avoid observation and the chance of arrest; and now +in his delirium the purpose as he had planned it remained fixed. He got +up at two o'clock, crazed with fever, dressed himself, and went out into +the rainy night. He went ashore in the mud and bushes, and, guided more +by instinct than by any conscious thought, he started up the wagon-track +along the river bank. His furious fever drove him on, talking to +himself, and splashing recklessly into the pools of rain-water standing +in the road. He never remembered his debarkation. He must have fallen +once or twice, for he was covered with mud when he rang the alarm at the +castle. In answer to Andrew's "Who's there?" he answered, "You'll have +to send a harder rain than that if you want to put this fire out!" + +And so, what with the original disease, the mental discouragement, and +the exposure to the rain, the fever had well-nigh consumed the life, and +now that the waves of the hot sea after days of fire and nights of +delirium had gone back, there was hardly any life left in the body, and +the doctors said there was no hope. One consuming desire remained. He +wanted to see Julia once before he went away; and that one desire it +seemed impossible to gratify. When he learned of the failure of Jonas to +get any message to Julia through Cynthy, he had felt the keenest +disappointment, and had evidently been sinking since the hope that kept +him up had been taken away. + +The mother sat by his bed, Gottlieb sat stupefied at the foot, with +Jonas by his side, and Wilhelmina was crying in a still fashion in one +corner of the room. August lay breathing feebly, and with his life +evidently ebbing. + +"August!" said Andrew, as he stood over his bed, having come to announce +the arrival of Julia. "August!" Andrew tried to speak quietly, but there +was a something of hope in the inflection, a tremor of eagerness in the +utterance, that made the mother look up quickly and inquiringly. + +August opened his eyes slowly and looked into the face of the +Philosopher. Then he slowly closed his eyes again, and a something, not +a smile--he was too weak for that--but a look of infinite content, +spread over his wan face. + +"I know," he whisperd. + +"Know what?" asked Andrew, leaning down to catch his words. + +"Julia." And a single tear crept out from under the closed lid. The +tender mother wiped it away. + +After resting a moment, August looked up at Andrew's face inquiringly. + +"She is coming," said the Philosopher. + +August smiled very faintly, but Andrew was sure he smiled, and again +leaned down his ear. + +"She is here," whispered August; "I heard Charon bark, and +I--saw--your--face." + +Andrew now stepped to the closet-door and opened it, and Julia came out. + +"Blamed ef he a'n't a witch!" whispered Jonas. "Cunjures a angel out of +his cupboard!" + +Julia did not see anybody or anything but the white and wasted face upon +the pillow. The eyes were now closed again, and she quickly crossed the +floor, and--not without a faint maidenly blush--stooped and kissed the +parched lips, from which the life seemed already to have fled. + +And August with difficulty disengaged his wasted hand from the cover, +and laid his nerveless fingers--alas! like a skeleton's now--In the warm +hand of Julia, and said--she leaned down to listen, an he whispered +feebly through his dry lips out of a full heart--"Thank God!" + +And the Philosopher, catching the words, said audibly, "Amen!" + +And the mother only wept. + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. + +GETTING READY FOR THE END. + +How Julia spent two hours of blessed sadness at the castle; how August +slept peacefully for five minutes at a time with his hand in hers, and +then awoke and looked at her, and then slumbered again; how she +moistened his parched lips for him, and gave him wine; how at last she +had to bid him a painful farewell; how the mother gave her a benediction +in German and a kiss; how Wilhelmina clung to her with tears; how Jonas +called her a turtle-dove angel; how Brother Hall, the preacher who had +been sent for at the mother's request, to converse with the dying man, +spoke a few consoling words to her; how Gottlieb confided to Jonas his +intention never to "sprach nodin 'pout Yangee kirls no more;" and how at +last Uncle Andrew walked home with her, I have not time to tell. When +the Philosopher bade her adieu, he called her names which she did not +understand. But she turned back to him, and after a minute's hesitation, +spoke huskily. "Uncle Andrew if he--if he should get worse--I want--" + +"I know, my daughter; you want him to die your husband?" + +"Yes, if he wishes it. Send for me day or night, and I'll come in spite +of everybody." + +"God bless you, my daughter!" said Andrew. And he watched until she got +safely into the house without discovery, and then he went back satisfied +and proud. + +Of course August died, and Julia devoted herself to philanthropic +labors. It is the fashion now for novels to end thus sadly, and you +would not have me be out of the fashion. + +But August did not die. Joy is a better stimulant than wine. Love is the +best tonic in the pharmacopeia. And from the hour in which August Wehle +looked into the eyes of Julia, the tide of life set back again. Not +perceptibly at first. For two days he was neither better nor worse. But +this was a gain. Then slowly he came back to life. But at Andrew's +instance he kept indoors while Humphreys staid. + +Humphreys, on his part, like Ananias, pretended to have disposed of all +his property, paid his debts, reserved enough to live on until the +approaching day of doom, and given the rest to the poor of the household +of faith, and there were several others who were sincere enough to do +what he only pretended. + +Among the leading Adventists was "Dr." Ketchup, who still dealt out +corn-sweats and ginseng-tea, but who refused to sell his property. He +excused himself by quoting the injunction, "Occupy till I come." But +others sold their estates for trifles, and gave themselves up to +proclaiming the millennium. + +Mrs. Abigail Anderson was a woman who did nothing by halves. She was +vixenish, she was selfish, she was dishonest and grasping; but she was +religious. If any man think this paradox impossible, he has observed +character superficially. There are criminals in State's-prison who have +been very devout all their lives. Religious questions took hold of Mrs. +Anderson's whole nature. She was superstitious, narrow, and intense. She +was as sure that the day of judgment would be proclaimed on the eleventh +of August, 1843, as she was of her life. No consideration in opposition +to any belief of hers weighed a feather with her. Her will mastered her +judgment and conscience. + +And so she determined that Samuel must sell his property for a trifle. +How far she was influenced in this by a sincere desire to square all +outstanding debts before the final settlement, how far by a longing to +be considered the foremost and most pious of all, and how far by +business shrewdness based on that feeling which still lurks in the most +protestant people, that such sacrifices do improve their state in a +future world, I can not tell. Doubtless fanaticism, hypocrisy, and a +self-interest that looked sordidly even at heaven, mingled in bringing +about the decision. At any rate, the property was to be sold for a few +hundred dollars. + +Getting wind of this decision, Andrew promptly appeared at his brother's +house and offered to buy it. But Mrs. Abigail couldn't think of it. +Andrew had always been her enemy, and though she forgave him, she would +not on any account sell him an inch of the land. It would not be right. +He had claimed that part of it belonged to him, and to let him have it +would be to admit his claim. + +"Andrew," she said, "you do not believe in the millennium, and people +say that you are a skeptic. You want to cheat us out of what you think a +valuable piece of property. And you'll find yourself at the last +judgment with the weight of this sin on your heart. You will, indeed!" + +"How clearly you reason about other people's duty!" said the +Philosopher. "If you had seen your own duty half so clearly, some of us +would have been better off, and your account would have been +straighter." + +Here Mrs. Anderson grew very angry, and vented her spleen in a solemn +exhortation to Andrew to get ready for the coming of the Master, not +three weeks off at the farthest, and she warned him that the archangel +might blow his trumpet at any moment. Then where would he be? she asked +in exultation. Human meanness is never so pitiful as when it tries to +seize on God's judgments as weapons with which to gratify its own +spites. I trust this remark will not be considered as applying only to +Mrs. Anderson. + +But Mrs. Anderson fired off all the heavenly small-shot she could find +in the teeth and eyes of Andrew, and then, to prevent a rejoinder, she +told him it was time for her to go to secret prayer, and she only +stopped upon the threshold to send back one Parthian arrow in the shape +of a warning to "watch and be ready." + +I wonder if a certain class of religious people have ever thought how +much their exclusiveness and Pharisaism have to do with the unhappy +fruitlessness of all their appeals! Had Mrs. Anderson been as blameless +as an angel, such exhortations would have driven a weaker than Andrew to +hate the name of religion. + +But I must not moralize, for Mr. Humphreys has already divulged his plan +of disposing of the property. He has a friend, one Thomas A. Parkins, +who has money, and who will buy the farm at two hundred dollars. He +could procure the money in advance any day by going to the village of +Bethany, the county-seat, and drawing on Mr. Parkins, and cashing the +draft. It was a matter of indifference to him, he said, only that he +would like to oblige so good a friend. + +This arrangement, by which the Anderson farm was to be sold for a song +to some distant stranger, pleased Mrs. Abigail. She could not bear that +one of her unbelieving neighbors should even for a fortnight rejoice in +a supposed good bargain at her expense. To sell to Mr. Humphreys's +friend in Louisville was just the thing. When pressed by some of her +neighbors who had not received the Adventist gospel, to tell on what +principle she could justify her sale of the farm at all, she answered +that if the farm would not be of any account after the end of the world, +neither would the money. + +Mr. Humphreys went down to the town of Bethany and came back, affecting +to have cashed a draft on his friend for two hundred dollars. The deeds +were drawn, and a justice of the peace was to come the next morning and +take the acknowledgment of Mr. and Mrs. Anderson. + +This was what Jonas learned as he sat in the kitchen talking to Cynthy +Ann. He had come to bring some message from the convalescent August, and +had been detained by the attraction of adhesion. + +"I told you it was fox-and-geese. Didn't I? And so Thomas A. Parkins +_is_ his name. Gus Wehle said he'd bet the two was one. Well, I must +drive this varmint off afore he gits his chickens." + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. + +THE SIN OF SANCTIMONY. + +Just at this point arrived Mr. Hall, whom I have before described as the +good but callow Methodist preacher on the circuit. Some people think +that a minister of the gospel should be exempt from criticism, ridicule, +and military duty. But the manly minister takes his lot with the rest. +Nothing could be more pernicious than making the foibles of a minister +sacred. Doubtless Mr. Hall has long since come to laugh at his own early +follies, his official sanctimoniousness, and all that; and why should +not I, who have been a callow circuit-preacher myself in my day, laugh +at my Brother Hall, for the good of his kind? + +He had come to visit Sister Cynthy Ann, whose name had long stood on the +class-book at Harden's Cross-Roads as a good and acceptable member of +the church in full connection. He was visiting formally and officially +each family in which there was a member. Had he visited informally and +unofficially, and like a man instead of like a minister, he would have +done more good. But he came to Samuel Anderson's, and informed Mrs. +Anderson that he was visiting his members, and that as one of her +household was a member, he would like to have a little religious +conversation and prayer with the family. Would she please gather +them together? + +So Julia was called down-stairs, and Jonas was invited in from the +kitchen. The sight of him distressed Brother Hall. For was not this New +Light sent here by Satan to lead astray one of his flock? But, at least, +he would labor faithfully with him. + +He began with Mr. Samuel Anderson. But that worthy, after looking at his +wife in vain for a cue, darted off about the trumpets of the Apocalypse. + +"Mr. Anderson, as head of this family, your responsibility is very +great. Do you feel the full assurance, my brother?" asked Mr. Hall. + +"Yes," said Mr. Anderson, "I am standing with my lamp trimmed and ready. +I am listening for the midnight shout. To-night the trumpet may sound. I +am afraid you don't do your duty, or you would lift up your voice. The +tune and times and a half are almost out." + +Mr. Hall was a little dashed at this. A man whose religious conversation +is of a set and conventional type, is always shocked and jostled when he +is thrown from the track. And he himself, like everybody else, had felt +the Adventist infection, and did not want to commit himself. So he +turned to Mrs. Anderson. She answered like a seraph every question put +to her--the conventional questions never pierce the armor of a hypocrite +or startle the conscience of a self-deceiver. Mr. Hall congratulated her +in his most official tone (a compound of authority, awfulness, and +sanctity) on her deep experience of the things that made for her +everlasting peace. He told her that people of her high attainments +must beware of spiritual pride. And Mrs. Anderson took the warning with +beautiful meekness, sinking into forty fathoms of undisguised and rather +ostentatious humility, heaving solemn sighs in token of self-reproach--a +self-reproach that did not penetrate the cuticle. + +[Illustration: A PASTORAL VISIT.] + +"And you, Sister Cynthy Ann," he said, fighting shy of Jonas for the +present, "I trust you are trying to let your light shine. Do you feel +that you are pressing on?" + +Poor Cynthy Ann sank into a despondency deeper than usual. She was +afeard not. Seemed like as ef her heart was cold and dead to God. Seemed +like as ef she couldn't no ways gin up the world. It weighed her down +like a rock, and many was the fight she had with the enemy. No, she +wuzn't getting on. + +"My dear sister," said Mr. Hall, "let me warn you. Here is Mrs. +Anderson, who has given up the world entirely. I hope you'll follow so +good an example. Do not be led astray by worldly affections; they are +sure to entrap you. I am afraid you have not maintained your +steadfastness as you should." Here Mr. Hall's eye wandered doubtfully to +Jonas, of whom he felt a little afraid. Jonas, on his part, had no +reason to like Mr. Hall for his advice in Cynthy's love affair, and now +the minister's praises of Mrs. Anderson and condemnation of Cynthy Ann +had not put him in any mood to listen to exhortation. + +"Well, Mr. Harrison," said the young minister solemnly, approaching +Jonas much as a dog does a hedgehog, "how do you feel to-day?" + +"Middlin' peart, I thank you; how's yourself?" + +This upset the good man not a little, and convinced him that Jonas was +in a state of extreme wickedness. + +"Are you a Christian?" + +"Wal, I 'low I am. How about yourself, Mr. Hall?" + +"I believe you are a New Light. Now, do you believe in the Lord Jesus +Christ?" asked the minister in an annihilating tone. + +"Yes, I do, my aged friend, a heap sight more'n I do in some of them +that purtends to hev a paytent right on all his blessins, and that put +on solemn airs and call other denominations hard names. My friend, I +don't believe in no religion that's made up of sighs and groans and high +temper" (with a glance at Mrs. Anderson), "and that thinks a good deal +more of its bein' sound in doctrine than of the danger of bein' rotten +in life. They's lots o' bad eggs got slick and shiny shells!" + +Mr. Hall happened to think just here of the injunction against throwing +pearls before swine, and so turned to Humphreys, who made his heart glad +by witnessing a good confession, in soft and unctuous tones, and couched +in the regulation phrases which have worn smooth in long use. + +Julia had slunk away in a corner. But now he appealed to her also. + +"Blest with a praying mother, you, Miss Anderson, ought to repent of +your sins and flee from the wrath to come. You know the right way. You +have been pointed to it by the life of your parents from childhood. +Reared in the bosom of a Christian household, let me entreat you to seek +salvation immediately." + +I do not like to repeat this talk here. But it is an unfortunate fact +that goodness and self-sacrificing piety do not always go with practical +wisdom. The novelist, like the historian, must set down things as he +finds them. A man who talks in consecrated phrases is yet in the +poll-parrot state of mental development. + +"Do you feel a desire to flee from the wrath to come?" he asked. + +Julia gave some sort of inaudible assent. + +"My dear young sister, you have great reason to be thankful--very great +reason for gratitude to Almighty God." (Like many other pious young men, +Mr. Hall said _Gawd_.) "I met you the other night at your uncle's. The +young man whose life we then despaired of has recovered." And with more +of this, Mr. Hall told Julia's secret, while Mrs. Anderson, between her +anger and her rapt condition of mind, seemed to be petrifying. + +I trust the reader does not expect me to describe the feelings of Julia +while Mr. Hall read a chapter and prayed. Nor the emotions of Mrs. +Anderson. I think if Mr. Hall could have heard her grind her teeth while +he in his prayer gave thanks for the recovery of August, he would not +have thought so highly of her piety. But she managed to control her +emotions until the minister was fairly out of the house. In bidding +good-by, Mr. Hall saw how pale and tremulous Julia was, and with his +characteristic lack of sagacity, he took her emotion to be a sign of +religious feelings and told her he was pleased to see that she was +awakened to a sense of her condition. + +And then he left. And then came the deluge. + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. + +THE DELUGE. + +The indescribable deluge! But, after all, the worst of anything of that +sort is the moment before it begins. A plunge-bath, a tooth-pulling, an +amputation, and a dress-party are all worse in anticipation than in the +moment of infliction. Julia, as she stood busily sticking a pin in the +window-sash, waiting for her mother to begin, wished that the storm +might burst, and be done with it. But Mrs. Anderson understood her +business too well for that. She knew the value of the awful moments of +silence before beginning. She had not practiced all her life without +learning the fine art of torture in its exquisite details. I doubt not +the black-robed fathers of the Holy Office were leisurely gentlemen, +giving their victims plenty of time for anticipatory meditation, laying +out their utensils quietly, inspecting the thumb-screw affectionately to +make sure that it would work smoothly, discussing the rack and wheel +with much tender forethought, as though torture were a sweet thing, to +be reserved like a little girl's candy lamb, and only resorted to when +the appetite has been duly whetted by contemplation. I never had the +pleasure of knowing an inquisitor, and I can not certify that they were +of this deliberate fashion. But it "stands to nature" that they were. +For the vixens who are vixens of the highest quality, are always +deliberate. + +Mrs. Anderson felt that the piece of invective which she was about to +undertake, was not to be taken in hand unadvisedly, "but reverently, +discreetly, and in the fear of God." And so she paused, and Julia +fumbled the tassel of the window-curtain, and trembled with the chill of +expectation. And Mrs. Abigail continued to debate how she might make +this, which would doubtless be her last outburst before the day of +judgment, her masterpiece--worthy song of the dying swan. And then she +hoped, she sincerely hoped, to be able by this awful _coup de main_ to +awaken Julia to a sense of her sinfulness. For there was such a jumble +of mixed motives in her mind, that one could never distinguish her +sincerity from her hypocrisy. + +Mrs. Anderson's conscience was quite an objective one. As Jonas often +remarked, "she had a feelin' sense of other folkses unworthiness." And +the sins which she appreciated were generally sins against herself. +Julia's disobedience to herself was darker in her mind than murder +committed on anybody else would have been. And now she sat deliberating, +not on the limit of the verbal punishment she meant to inflict--that +gave her no concern--but on her ability to do the matter justice. Even +as a tyrannical backwoods school-master straightens his long beech-rod +relishfully before applying it. + +Not that Mrs. Anderson was silent all this time. She was sighing and +groaning in a spasmodic devotion. She was "seeking strength from above +to do her whole duty," she would have told you. She was "agonizing" in +prayer for her daughter, and she contrived that her stage-whisper +praying should now and then reach the ears of its devoted object. +Humphreys remained seated, pretending to read the copy of "Josephus," +but watching the coming storm with the interest of a connoisseur. And +while he remained Jonas determined to stay, to keep Julia in +countenance, and he beckoned to Cynthy to stay also. And Samuel +Anderson, who loved his daughter and feared his wife, fled like a coward +from the coming scene. Everybody expected Mrs. Anderson to break out +like a fury. + +But she knew a better plan than that. She felt a new device come like an +inspiration. And perhaps it was. It really seemed to Jonas that the +devil helped her. For instead of breaking out into commonplace scolding, +the resources of which she had long since exhausted, she dropped upon +her knees, and began to pray for Julia. + +No swearer ever curses like the priest who veils his personal spites in +official and pious denunciations, and Mrs. Anderson had never dealt out +abuse so roundly and terribly and crushingly, as she did under the guise +of praying for the salvation of Julia's soul from well-deserved +perdition. But Abigail did not say perdition. She left that to weak +spirits. She thought it a virtue to say "hell" with unction and +emphasis, by way of alarming the consciences of sinners. Mrs. Anderson's +prayer is not reportable. That sort of profanity is too bad to write. +She capped her climax--even as I have heard a revivalist pray for a +scoffer that had vexed his righteous soul--by asking God to convert her +daughter, or if she could not be converted to take her away, that she +might not heap up wrath against the day of wrath. For that sort of +religious excitement which does not quiet the evil passions, seems to +inflame them, and Mrs. Anderson was not in any right sense sane. And the +prayer was addressed more to the frightened Julia than to God. She would +have been terribly afflicted had her petition been granted. + +Julia would have run away from the admonition which followed the prayer, +had it not been that Mrs. Anderson adroitly put it under cover of a +religious exhortation. She besought Julia to repent, and then, affecting +to show her her sinfulness, she proceeded to abuse her. + +Had Julia no temper? Yes, she had doubtless a spice of her mother's +anger without her meanness. She would have resisted, but that from +childhood she had felt paralyzed by the utter uselessness of all +resistance. The bravest of the villagers at the foot of Vesuvius never +dreamed of stopping the crater's mouth. + +But, happily, at last Mrs. Anderson's insane wrath went a little too +far. + +"You poor lost sinner," she said, "to think you should go to destruction +under my very eyes, disgracing us all, by running over the country at +night with bad men! But there's mercy even for such as you." + +Julia would not have understood the full meaning of this aspersion of +her purity, had she not caught Humphreys's eye. His expression, half +sneer, half leer, seemed to give her mother's saying its full +interpretation. She put out her hand. She turned white, and said: "Say +one word more, and I will go away from you and never come back! Never!" +And then she sat down and cried, and then Mrs. Anderson's maternal love, +her "unloving love," revived. To have her daughter leave her, too, would +be a sort of defeat. She hushed, and sat down in her splint-bottomed +rocking-chair, which snapped when she rocked, and which seemed to speak +for her after she had shut her mouth. Her face settled into a +martyr-like appeal to Heaven in proof of the justice of her cause. And +then she fell back on her forlorn hope. She wept hysterically, in +sincere self-pity, to think that an affectionate mother should have such +a daughter! + +Julia, finding that her mother had desisted, went to her room. She did +not exactly pray, but she talked to herself as she paced the floor. It +was a monologue, and yet there was a conscious appeal to an invisible +Presence, who could not misjudge her, and so she passed from talking to +herself to talking to God, and that without any of the formality of +prayer. Her mother had made God seem to be against her. Now she, like +David, protested her innocence to God. She recited half to herself, and +yet also to God--for is not every appeal to one's conscience in some +sense an appeal to God?--she recited all the struggles of that night +when she went to August at the castle. People talk of the consolation +there is in God's mercy. But Julia found comfort in God's justice. He +_could_ not judge her wrongly. + +Then she opened the Testament at the old place, and read the words long +since fixed in her memory. And then she--weary and heavy laden--came +again to Him who invites, and found rest. And then she found, as many +another has found, that coming to God is not, as theorists will have it, +a coming once for a lifetime, but a coming oft and ever repeated. + +Jonas and Cynthy Ann retired to the kitchen, and the former said hi his +irreverent way, "Blamed ef Abigail ha'nt got more devils into her'n Mary +Magdalene had the purtiest day she ever seed! I should think, arter a +life with her fer a mother, the bad place would be a healthy and +delightful clime. The devil a'n't a patchin' to her." + +"Don't, Jonas; you talk so cur'us, like as ef you was kinder sorter +wicked." + +"That's jest what I am, my dear, but Abigail Anderson's wicked without +the kinder sorter. She cusses when she's a-prayin'. She cusses that poar +gal right in the Lord's face. Good by, I must go. Smells so all-fired +like brimstone about here." This last was spoken in an undertone of +indignant soliloquy, as he crossed the threshold of Cynthy's +clean kitchen. + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII. + +SCARING A HAWK. + +Jonas was thoroughly alarmed. He exaggerated the harm that Humphreys +might do to August, now that he knew where he was. August, on his part, +felt sure that Humphreys would not do anything against him; certainly +not in the way of legal proceedings. And as for the sale of Samuel +Anderson's farms, that did not disturb him. Like almost everybody else +at that time, August Wehle was strongly impressed by the assertions of +the Millerites, and if the world should be finished in the next month, +the farms were of no consequence. And if Millerism proved a delusion, +the loss of Samuel Anderson's property would only leave Julia on his +level, so far as worldly goods went. The happiness this last thought +brought him made him ashamed. Why should he rejoice in Mr. Anderson's +misfortune? Why should he wish to pull Julia down to him? But still the +thought remained a pleasant one. + +Jonas would not have it so. He had his plan. He went home from the +Adventist meeting that very night with Cynthy Ann, and then stood +talking to her at the corner of the porch, feeling very sure that +Humphreys would listen from above. He heard his stealthy tread, after a +while, disturb a loose board on the upper porch. Then he began to talk +to Cynthy Ann in this strain: + +"You see, I can't tell no secrets, Cynthy Ann, even to your Royal +Goodness, as I might say, seein' as how as you a'n't my wife, and a'n't +likely to be, if Brother Goshorn can have his way. But you're the Queen +of Hearts, anyhow. But s'pose I was to hint a secret?" + +"Sh--sh--h-h-h!" said Cynthy Ann, partly because she felt a sinful +pleasure in the flattery, and partly because she felt sure that +Humphreys was above. But Jonas paid no attention to the caution. + +"I'll give you a hint as strong as a Irishman's, which they do say'll +knock you down. Let's s'pose a case. They a'n't no harm in s'posin' a +case, you know. I've knowed boys who'd throw a rock at a fence-rail and +hit a stump, and then say, 'S'posin' they was a woodpecker on that air +stump, wouldn't I a keeled him over?' You can s'pose a case and make a +woodpecker wherever you want to. Well, s'posin' they was a inquisition +or somethin' of the kind from the guv'nor of the State of ole Kaintuck +to the guv'nor of the State of Injeanny? And s'posin' that the dokyment +got lodged in this 'ere identical county? And s'posin' it called fer the +body of one Thomas A. Parkins, a_li_as J.W. 'Umphreys? And s'posin' it +speecified as to sartain and sundry crimes committed in Paduky and all +along the shore, fer all I know? Now, s'posin' all of them air things, +what _would_ Clark township do to console itself when that toonful v'ice +and them air blazin' watch-seals had set in ignominy for ever and ever? +Selah! Good-night, and don't you breathe a word to a livin' soul, nur a +dead one, 'bout what I been a-sayin'. You'll know more by daylight +to-morry 'n you know now." + +And the last part of the speech was true, for by midnight the Hawk had +fled. And the sale of the Anderson farm to Humphreys was never +completed. For three days the end of the world was forgotten in the +interest which Clark township felt in the flight of its favorite. And by +degrees the story of Norman's encounter with the gamblers and of +August's recovery of the money became spread abroad through the +confidential hints of Jonas. And by degrees another story became known; +it could not long be concealed. It was the story of Betsey Malcolm, who +averred that she had been privately married to Humphreys on the occasion +of a certain trip they had made to Kentucky together, to attend a "big +meeting." The story was probably true, but uncharitable gossips shook +their heads. + +It was only a few evenings after the flight of Humphreys that Jonas had +another talk with Cynthy Ann, in which he confessed that all his +supposed case about a requisition from the governor of Kentucky for +Humphreys's arrest was pure fiction. + +"But, Jonas, is--is that air right? I'm afeard it a'n't right to tell an +ontruth." + +"So 'ta'n't; but I only s'posed a case, you know." + +"But Brother Hall said last Sunday two weeks, that anything that gin a +false impression was--was lying. Now, I don't think you meant it, but +then I thought I orto speak to you about it." + +"Well, maybe you're right. I see you last summer a-puttin' up a +skeercrow to keep the poor, hungry little birds of the air from gittin' +the peas that they needed to sustain life. An' I said, What a pity that +the best woman I ever seed should tell lies to the poor little birds +that can't defend theirselves from her wicked wiles! But I see that same +day a skeercrow, a mean, holler, high-percritical purtense of a ole hat +and coat, a-hanging in Brother Goshorn's garden down to the cross-roads. +An' I wondered ef it was your Methodis' trainin' that taught you +sech-like cheatin' of the little sparrys and blackbirds." + +"Yes; but Jonas--" said Cynthy, bewildered. + +"And I see a few days arterwards a Englishman with a humbug-fly onto his +line, a foolin' the poor, simple-hearted little fishes into swallerln' a +book that hadn't nary sign of a ginowine bait onto it. An' I says, says +I, What a deceitful thing the human heart is!" + +"Why, Jonas, you'd make a preacher!" said Cynthy Ann, touched with the +fervor of his utterance, and inly resolved never to set up another +scarecrow. + +"Not much, my dear. But then, you see, I make distinctions. Ef I was to +see a wolf a-goin' to eat a lamb, what would I do? Why, I'd skeer or +fool him with the very fust thing I could find. Wouldn' you, honey?" + +"In course," said Cynthy Ann. + +"And so, when I seed a wolf or a tiger or a painter, like that air +'Umphreys, about to gobble up fortins, and to do some harm to Gus, +maybe, I jest rigged up a skeercrow of words, like a ole hat and coat +stuck onto a stick, and run him off. Any harm done, my dear?" + +"Well, no, Jonas; I ruther 'low not." + +Whether Jonas's defense was good or not, I can not say, for I do not +know. But he is entitled to the benefit of it. + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX. + +JONAS TAKES AN APPEAL + +Jonas had waited for the coming of the quarterly meeting to carry his +appeal to the presiding elder. The quarterly meeting for the circuit was +held at the village of Brayvllle, and beds were made upon the floor for +the guests who crowded the town. Every visiting Methodist had a right to +entertainment, and every resident Methodist opened his doors very wide, +for Western people are hospitable in a fashion and with a bountifulness +unknown on the eastern side of the mountains. Who that has not known it, +can ever understand the delightfulness of a quarterly meeting? The +meeting of old friends--the social life--is all but heavenly. And then +the singing of the old Methodist hymns, such as + + "Oh! that will be joyful! + Joyful! joyful! + Oh! that will be joyful, + To meet to part no more." + +And that other solemnly-sweet refrain: + + "The reaping-time will surely come, + And angels shout the harvest home!" + +And who shall describe the joy of a Christian mother, when her +scapegrace son "laid down the arms of his rebellion" and was "soundly +converted"? Let those sneer who will, but such moral miracles as are +wrought in Methodist revivals are more wonderful than any healing of the +blind or raising of the dead could be. + +Jonas turned up, faithful to his promise, and called on the "elder" at +the place where he was staying, and asked for a private interview. He +found the old gentleman exercising his sweet voice in singing, + + "Come, let us anew + Our journey pursue, + Roll round with the year. + And never stand still till the Master appear. + His adorable will + Let us gladly fulfill, + And our talents improve + By the patience of hope and the labor of love." + +"When he concluded the verse he raised his half-closed eyes and saw +Jonas standing in the door. + +"Mr. Persidin' Elder," said Jonas, trying in vain to speak with some +seriousness and veneration, "I come to ax your consent to marry one of +your flock--the best lamb you've got in the whole fold." + +"Bless you, Mr. Harrison," said Father Williams, the old elder, +laughing, "bless you, I haven't any right to consent or forbid. Ask the +lady herself!" + +"Ax the lady!" said Jonas. "Didn't I though! And didn't Mr. Goshorn +forbid the lady to marry me, under the pains and penalties pervided; and +didn't Mr. Hall set his seal to the forbiddin' of Goshorn! An' I says to +her, 'I won't take nothin' less than a elder or a bishop on this 'ere +vital question.' When I want a sheep, I don't go to the underlin,' but +to the boss; and so I brought this appeal up to you on a writ of _habeas +corpus_, or whatever you may call it." + +The presiding elder laughed again, and looked closely at Jonas. Then he +stepped to the door and called in the circuit preacher, Mr. Hall, and +the class leader, Mr. Goshorn, both of whom happened to be in the next +room engaged in an excited discussion with a brother who was a little +touched with Millerism. + +"What's this Mr. Harrison tells me about your forbidding the banns in +his case?" + +"He's a New Light," said Brother Hall, showing his abhorrence in his +face, "and it seemed to me that for a Methodist to marry a New Light was +a sin--a being yoked together unequally with an unbeliever. You know, +Father Williams, that New Lights are Arians." + +The old man seemed more amused than ever. Turning to Jonas, he asked him +if he was an Arian. + +"Not as I knows on, my venerable friend. I may have caught the disease +when I had the measles, or I may have been a Arian in infancy, or I may +be a Arian on my mother's side, you know; but as I don't know who or +what it may be, I a'n't in no way accountable fer it--no more'n Brother +Goshorn is to blame fer his face bein' so humbly. But I take it Arian is +one of them air pleasant names you and the New Light preachers uses in +your Christian intercourse together to make one another mad. I'm one of +them as goes to heaven straight--never stoppin' to throw no donicks at +the Methodists, Presbyterians, nor no other misguided children of men. +They may ride in the packet, or go by flat-boat or keel-boat, ef they +chooses. I go by the swift-sailin' and palatial mail-boat New Light, and +I don't run no opposition line, nor bust my bilers tryin' to beat my +neighbors into the heavenly port." + +Brother Goshorn looked vexed. Brother Hall was scandalized at the +lightness of Jonas's conversation. But the old presiding elder, with +keen common-sense and an equally keen sense of the ludicrous, could not +look grave with all his effort to keep from laughing. + +[Illustration: BROTHER GOSHORN.] + +"Are you an unbeliever?" he asked. + +"I don't know what you call onbeliever. I believe in God and Christ, and +keep Sunday and the Fourth of July; but I don't believe in all of +Brother Goshorn's nonsense about wearing veils and artificials." + +"Well," said Brother Hall, "would you endeavor to induce your wife to +dress in a manner unbecoming a Methodist?" + +[Illustration: "SAY THEM WORDS OVER AGAIN."] + +"I wouldn't fer the world. If I git the article I want, I don't keer +what it's tied up in, calico or bombazine." + +"Couldn't you join the Methodist Church yourself, and keep your wife +company?" It was Brother Goshorn who spoke. + +"Couldn't I? I suppose I could ef I didn't think no more of religion +than some other folks. I could jine the Methodist Church, and have +everybody say I jined to git my wife. That may be serving God; but I +can't see how. And then how long would you keep me? The very fust time I +fired off my blunderbuss in class-meetin', and you heerd the buckshot +and the squirrel-shot and the slugs and all sorts of things a-rattlin' +around, you'd say I was makin' fun of the Gospel. I 'low they a'n't no +Methodist in me. I was cut out cur'us, you know, and made up crooked." + +"Is there anything against Mr. Harrison, Brother Goshorn?" asked the +elder. + +"He's a New Light," said Mr. Goshorn, in a tone that signified his +belief that to be a New Light was enough. + +"Is he honest and steady?" + +"Never heard anything against him as a moralist." + +"Well, then, it's my opinion that any member of your class would do +better to marry a good, faithful, honest New Light than to marry a +hickory Methodist." + +Jonas got up like one demented, and ran out of the door and across the +street. In a moment he came back, bringing Cynthy Ann in triumph. + +"Now, soy them words over again," he said to the presiding elder. + +"Sister Cynthy Ann," said the presiding elder, "you really love Brother +Harrison?" + +"I--I don't know whether it's right to set our sinful hearts on the +things of this perishin' world. But I think more of him, I'm afeard, +than I had ort to. He's got as good a heart as I ever seed. But Brother +Goshorn thought I hadn't orter marry him, seein' he is a onbeliever." + +"But I a'n't," said Jonas; "I believe in the Bible, and in everything in +it, and in Cynthy Ann and her good Methodist religion besides." + +"I think you can give up all your scruples and marry Mr. Harrison, and +love him and be happy," said the presiding elder. "Don't be afraid to be +happy, my sister. You'll be happy in good company in heaven, and you'd +just as well get used to it here." + +"I told you I'd find a man that had salt enough to keep his religion +sweet. And, Father Williams, you've got to marry us, whenever Cynthy +Ann's ready," said Jonas with enthusiasm. + +And for a moment the look of overstrained scrupulosity on Cynthy Ann's +face relaxed and a strange look of happiness came into her eyes. + +And the time was fixed then and there. + +Brother Hall was astonished. + +And Brother Goshorn drew down his face, and said that he didn't know +what was to become of good, old-fashioned Methodism and the rules of the +Discipline, if the presiding elders talked in that sort of a way. The +church was going to the dogs. + + + +CHAPTER XL. + +SELLING OUT. + +The flight of the Hawk did not long dampen the ardor of those who were +looking for signs in the heaven above and the earth beneath. I have +known a school-master to stand, switch in hand, and give a stubborn boy +a definite number of minutes to yield. The boy who would not have +submitted on account of any amount of punishment, was subdued by the +awful waiting. We have all read the old school-book story of the +prison-warden who brought a mob of criminals to subjection by the same +process. Millerism produced some such effect as this. The assured belief +of the believers had a great effect on others; the dreadful drawing on +of the set time day by day produced an effect in some regions absolutely +awful. An eminent divine, at that time a pastor in Boston, has told me +that the leaven of Adventism permeated all religious bodies, and that he +himself could not avoid the fearful sense of waiting for some +catastrophe--the impression that all this expectation of people must +have some significance. If this was the effect in Boston, imagine the +effect in a country neighborhood like Clark township. Andrew, skeptical +as he was visionary, was almost the only man that escaped the +infection. Jonas would have been as frankly irreverent if the day of +doom had come as he was at all times; but even Jonas had come to the +conclusion that "somethin' would happen, or else somethin' else." +August, with a young man's impressibility, was awe-stricken with +thoughts of the nearing end of the world, and Julia accepted it +as settled. + +It is a good thing that the invisible world is so thoroughly shut out +from this. The effect of too vivid a conception of it is never +wholesome. It was pernicious in the middle age, and clairvoyance and +spirit-rapping would be great evils to the world, if it were not that +the spirits, even of-the ablest men, in losing their bodies seem to lose +their wits. It is well that it is so, for if Washington Irving dictated +to a medium accounts of the other world in a style such as that of his +"Little Britain," for instance, we should lose all interest in the +affairs of this sphere, and nobody would buy our novels. + +This fever of excitement kept alive Samuel Anderson's determination to +sell his farms for a trifle as a testimony to unbelievers. He found that +fifty dollars would meet his expenses until the eleventh of August, and +so the price was set at that. + +As soon as Andrew heard of this, he privately arranged with Jonas to buy +it; but Mrs. Anderson utterly refused. She said she could see through it +all. Jonas was one of Andrew's fingers. Andrew had got to be a sort of a +king in Clark township, and Jonas was--was the king's fool. She did not +mean that any of her property should go into the hands of the clique +that were trying to rob her of her property and her daughter. Even for +two weeks they should not own her house! + +Before this speech was ended, Bob Walker entered the door. + +Bob was tall, stooped, good-natured, and desperately poor. With ton +children under twelve years of age, with an incorrigible fondness for +loafing and telling funny stories, Bob saw no chance to improve his +condition. A man may be either honest or lazy and got rich; but a man +who Is both honest and indolent is doomed. Bob lived in a cabin on the +Anderson farm, and when not hired by Samuel Anderson he did days' work +here and there, riding to and from his labor on a raw-boned mare, that +was the laughing-stock of the county. Bob pathetically called her +Splinter-shin, and he always rode bareback, for the very good reason +that he had neither saddle nor sheepskin. + +[Illustration: "I WANT TO BUY YOUR PLACE."] + +"Mr. Anderson," said Bob, standing in the door and trying to straighten +the chronic stoop out of his shoulders, "I want to buy your place." + +If Bob had said that he wanted to be elected president Samuel Anderson +could not have been more surprised. + +"You look astonished; but folks don't know everything. I 'low I know how +to lay by a little. But I never could git enough to buy a decent kind of +a tater-patch. So I says to my ole woman this mornin', 'Jane,' says I, +'let's git some ground. Let's buy out Mr. Anderson, and see how it'll +feel to be rich fer a few days. If she all burns up, let her burn, I +say. We've had a plaguey hard time of it, let's see how it goes to own +two farms fer awhile.' And so we thought we'd ruther hev the farms fer +two weeks than a little money in a ole stocking. What d'ye say?" + +Jonas here put in that he didn't see why they mightn't sell to him as +well as to Bob Walker. Cynthy Ann had worked fer Mrs. Anderson fer +years, and him and Cynthy was a-goin' to be one man soon. Why not +sell to them? + +"Because selling to you is selling to Andrew," said Mrs. Abigail, in a +conclusive way. + +And so Bob got the farms, possession to be given after the fourteenth of +August, thus giving the day of doom three days of grace. And Bob rode +round the county boasting that he was as rich a man as there was in +Clark Township. And Jonas declared that ef the eend did come in the +month of August, Abigail would find some onsettled bills agin her fer +cheatin' the brother outen the inheritance. And Clark Township +agreed with him. + +August was secretly pleased that one obstacle to his marriage was gone. +If Andrew should prove right, and the world should outlast the middle of +August, there would be nothing dishonorable in his marrying a girl that +would have nothing to sacrifice. + +Andrew, for his part, gave vent to his feelings, as usual, by two or +three bitter remarks leveled at the whole human race, though nowadays he +was inclined to make exceptions in favor of several people, of whom +Julia stood first. She was a woman of the old-fashioned kind, he said, +fit to go alongside Héloise or Chaucer's Grisilde. + + + +CHAPTER XLI. + +THE LAST DAY AND WHAT HAPPENED IN IT. + +The religious excitement reached its culmination as the tenth and +eleventh of August came on. Some made ascension-robes. Work was +suspended everywhere. The more abandoned, unwilling to yield to the +panic, showed its effects on them by deeper potations, and by a +recklessness of wickedness meant to conceal their fears. With tin horns +they blasphemously affected to be angels blowing trumpets. They imitated +the Millerite meetings in their drunken sprees, and learned Mr. +Hankins's arguments by heart. + +The sun of the eleventh of August rose gloriously. People pointed to it +with trembling, and said that it would rise no more. Soon after sunrise +there were crimson clouds stretching above and below it, and popular +terror seized upon this as a sign. But the sun mounted with a scorching +heat, which showed that at least his shining power was not impaired. +Then men said, "Behold the beginning of the fervent heat that is to melt +the elements!" Night drew on, and every "shooting-star" was a new sign +of the end. The meteors, as usual at this time of the year, were +plentiful, and the simple-hearted country-folk were convinced that the +stars were falling out of the sky. + +A large bald hill overlooking the Ohio was to be the mount of ascension. +Here gathered Elder Hankins's flock with that comfortable assurance of +being the elect that only a narrow bigotry can give. And here came +others of all denominations, consoling themselves that they were just as +well off if they were Christians as if they had made all this fuss about +the millennium. Here was August, too, now almost well, joining with the +rest in singing those sweet and inspiring Adventist hymns. His German +heart could not keep still where there was singing, and now, in +gratefulness at new-found health, he was more inclined to music than +ever. So he joined heartily and sincerely in the song that begins: + + "Shall Simon bear his cross alone, + And all the world go free? + No, there's a cross for every one, + And there's a cross for me. + I'll bear the consecrated cross + Till from the cross I'm free, + And then go home to wear the crown. + For there's a crown for me! + Yes, there's a crown in heaven above, + The purchase of a Saviour's love. + Oh I that's the crown for me!" + +When the concourse reached the lines, + + "The saints have heard the midnight cry, + Go meet him in the air!" + +neither August nor any one else could well resist the infection of the +profound and awful belief in the immediate coming of the end which +pervaded the throng. Strong men and women wept and shouted with the +excitement. + +Then Elder Hankins exhorted a little. He said that the time was short. +But men's hearts were hard. As in the days of the flood, they were +marrying and giving in marriage. Not half a mile away a wedding was at +that time taking place, and a man who called himself a minister could +not discern the signs of the times, but was solemnizing a marriage. + +This allusion was to the marriage of Jonas, which was to take place that +very evening at the castle. Mrs. Anderson had refused to have "such +wicked nonsense" at her house, and as Cynthy had no home, Andrew had +appointed it at the castle, partly to oblige Jonas, partly from habitual +opposition to Abigail, but chiefly to express his contempt for +Adventism. + +Mrs. Anderson herself was in a state of complete sublimation. She had +sent for Norman, that she might get him ready for the final judgment, +and Norman, without the slightest inclination to be genuinely religious, +was yet a coward, and made a provisional repentance, not meant to hold +good if Elder Hankins's figures should fail; just such a repentance as +many a man has made on what he supposed to be his death-bed. Do not I +remember a panic-stricken man, converted by typhoid fever and myself, +who laughed as soon as he began to eat gruel, to think that he had been +"such a fool as to send for the preacher"? + +Now, between Mrs. Anderson's joy at Norman's conversion, and her delight +that the world would soon be at an end and she on the winning side, and +her anticipation of the pleasure she would feel even in heaven in +saying, "I told you so!" to her unbelieving friends, she quite forgot +Julia. In fact she went from one fit of religious catalepsy to another, +falling into trances, or being struck down with what was mysteriously +called "the power." She had relaxed her vigilance about Julia, for +there were but three more hours of time, and she felt that the goal was +already gained, and she had carried her point to the very last. A +satisfaction for a saint! + +The neglected Julia naturally floated toward the outer edge of the +surging crowd, and she and August inevitably drifted together. + +"Let us go and see Jonas married," said August. "It is no harm. God can +take us to heaven from one place as well as another, if we are His +children." + +In truth, Julia was wearied and bewildered, not to say disgusted, with +her mother's peculiar religious exercises, and she gladly escaped with +August to the castle and the wedding of her faithful friends. + +Andrew, in a spirit of skeptical defiance, had made his castle look as +flowery and festive as possible. The wedding took place in the lower +story, but the library was illuminated, and the Adventists who had +occasion to pass by Andrew's on their way to the rendezvous accepted +this as a new fulfillment of prophecy to the very letter. They nodded +one to another, and said, "See! marrying and giving in marriage, as in +the days of Noah!" + +August and Julia were too much awe-stricken to say much on their way to +the castle. But in these last hours of a world grown old and ready for +its doom, they cleaved closer together. There could be neither heaven +nor millennium for one of them without the other! Loving one another +made them love God the more, and love cast out all fear. If this was the +Last, they would face it together, and if it proved the Beginning, they +would rejoice together. At sight of every shooting meteor, Julia clung +almost convulsively to August. + +When they entered the castle, Jonas and Cynthy were already standing up +before the presiding elder, and he was about to begin. Cynthy's face +showed her sense of the awfulness of marrying at a moment of such +fearful expectation, or perhaps she was troubling herself for fear that +so much happiness out of heaven was to be had only in the commission of +a capital sin. But, like most people whose consciences are stronger than +their intellects, she found great consolation in taking refuge under the +wing of ecclesiastical authority. To be married by a presiding elder was +the best thing in the world next to being married by a bishop. + +Whatever fear of the swift-coming judgment others might have felt, the +benignant old elder was at peace. Common-sense, a clean conscience, and +a child-like faith enlightened his countenance, and since he tried to be +always ready, and since his meditations made the things of the other +life ever present, his pulse would scarcely have quickened if he had +felt sure that the archangel's trump would sound in an hour. He neither +felt the subdued fear shown on the countenance of Cynthy Ann, nor the +strong skeptical opposition of Andrew, whose face of late had grown +almost into a sneer. + +"Do you take this woman to be your lawful and wedded wife--" + +And before the elder could finish it, Jonas blurted out, "You'd better +believe I do, my friend." + +And then when the old man smiled and finished his question down to, "so +long as ye both shall live," Jonas responded eagerly, "Tell death er the +jedgment-day, long or short." + +And Cynthy Ann answered demurely out of her frightened but too happy +heart, and the old man gave them his benediction in an apostolic fashion +that removed Cynthy Ann's scruples, and smoothed a little of the +primness out of her face, so that she almost smiled when Jonas said, +"Well! it's done now, and it can't be undone fer all the Goshorns in +Christendom er creation!" + +And then the old gentleman--for he was a gentleman, though he had always +been a backwoodsman--spoke of the excitement, and said that it was best +always to be ready--to be ready to live, and then you would be ready for +death or the judgment. That very night the end might come, but it was +not best to trouble one's self about it. And he smiled, and said that it +was none of his business, God could manage the universe; it was for him +to be found doing his duty as a faithful servant. And then it would be +just like stepping out of one door into another, whenever death or the +judgment should come. + +While the old man was getting ready to leave, Julia and August slipped +away, fearing lest their absence should be discovered. But the +peacefulness of the old elder's face had entered into their souls, and +they wished that they too were solemnly pronounced man and wife, with so +sweet a benediction upon their union. + +"I do not feel much anxious about the day of judgment or the +millennium," said August, whose idiom was sometimes a little broken. +"When I was so near dying I felt satisfied to die after you had kissed +my lips. But now that it seems we have come upon the world's last days, +I wish I were married to you. I do not know how things will be in the +new heaven and the new earth. But I should like you to be my wife there, +or at least to have been my wife on earth, if only for one hour." + +And then he proposed that they should be made man and wife now in the +world's last hour. It was not wrong. It could not give her mother +heart-disease, for she would not know of it till she should hear it in +the land where there are neither marriages nor sickness. Julia could not +see any sin in her disobedience under such circumstances. She did so +much want to go into the New Jerusalem as the wedded wife of August "the +grand," as she fondly called him. + +And so in the stillness of that awful night they walked back to Andrew's +castle, and found the venerable preacher, with saddle-bags on his arm, +ready to mount his horse, for the presiding elder of that day had no +leisure time. Jonas and Cynthy stood bidding him good-by. And the old +man was saying again that if we were always ready it would be like +stepping from one door into another. But he thought it as wrong to waste +time gazing up into heaven to see Christ come, as it had been to gaze +after Him when He went away. Even Jonas's voice was a little softened by +the fearful thought ever present of the coming on of that awful midnight +of the eleventh of August. All were surprised to see the two young +people come back. + +"Father Williams," said August, "we thought we should like to go into +the New Jerusalem man and wife. Will you marry us?" + +"Sensible to the last!" cried Jonas. + +"According to the laws of this State," said Mr. Williams, "you can not +be married without a license from the clerk of the county. Have you +a license?" + +"No," said August, his heart sinking. + +Just then Andrew came up and inquired what the conversation was about. + +"Why, Uncle Andrew," said Julia eagerly, "August and I don't want the +end of the world to come without being man and wife. And we have no +license, and August could not go seven miles and back to get a license +before midnight. It is too bad, isn't it? If it wasn't that we think the +end of the world is so near, I should be ashamed to say how much I want +to be married. But I shall be proud to have been August's wife, when I +am among the angels." + +"You are a noble woman," said Andrew. "Come in, let us see if anything +can be done." And he led the way, smiling. + + + +CHAPTER XLII. + +FOR EVER AND EVER. + +When they had all re-entered the castle, Andrew made them sit down. The +old minister did not see any escape from the fatal obstacle of a lack of +license, but Andrew was very mysterious. + +"Virtue is its own reward," said the Philosopher, "but it often finds an +incidental reward besides. Now, Julia, you are the noblest woman in +these degenerate times, according to my way of thinking." + +"That's true as preachin', ef you'll except one," chirped Jonas, with a +significant look at his Cynthy Ann. Julia blushed, and the old minister +looked inquiringly at Andrew and at Julia. This exaggerated praise from +a man so misanthropic as Andrew excited his curiosity. + +"Without exception," said Andrew emphatically, looking first at Jonas, +then at Mr. Williams, "my niece is the noblest woman I ever knew." + +"Please don't, Uncle Andrew!" begged Julia, almost speechless with +shame. Praise was something she could not bear. She was inured +to censure. + +"Do you remember that dark night--of course you do--when you braved +everything and came here to see August, who would have died but for your +coming?" Andrew was now looking at Julia, who answered him almost +inaudibly. + +"And do you remember when we got to your gate, on your return, what you +said to me?" + +"Yes, sir," said Julia. + +"To be sure you do, and" (turning to August) "I shall never forget her +words; she said, If he should get worse, I should like him to die my +husband, if he wishes it. Send for me, day or night, and I will come in +spite of everything." + +"Did you say that?" asked August, looking at her eagerly. + +And Julia nodded her head, and lifted her eyes, glistening with brimming +tears, to his. + +"You do not know," said Andrew to the preacher, "how much her proposal +meant, for you do not know through what she would have had to pass. But +I say that God does sometimes reward virtue in this world--a world not +quite worn out yet--and she is worthy of the reward in store for her." + +Saying this, Andrew went into the closet leading to his secret +stairway--secret no longer, since Julia had ascended by that way--and +soon came down from his library with a paper in his hand. + +"When you, my noble-hearted niece, proposed to make any sacrifice to +marry this studious, honest, true-hearted German gentleman, who is +worthy of you, if any man can be, I thought best to be ready for any +emergency, and so I went the next day and procured the license, the +clerk promising to keep my secret. A marriage-license is good for thirty +days. You will see, Mr. Williams, that this has not quite expired." + +The minister looked at it and then said, "I depend on your judgment, +Mr. Anderson. There seems to be something peculiar about the +circumstances of this marriage." + +"Very peculiar," said Andrew. + +"You give me your word, then, that it is a marriage I ought to +solemnize?" + +"The lady is my niece," said Andrew. "The marriage, taking place in this +castle, will shed more glory upon it than its whole history beside; and +you, sir, have never performed a marriage ceremony in a case where the +marriage was so excellent as this." + +"Except the last one," put in Jonas. + +I suppose Mr. Williams made the proper reductions for Andrew's +enthusiasm. But he was satisfied, and perhaps he was rather inclined to +be satisfied, for gentle-hearted old men are quite susceptible to a +romantic situation. + +When he asked August if he would live with this woman in holy matrimony +"so long as ye both shall live," August, thinking the two hours of time +left to him too short for the earnestness of his vows, looked the old +minister in the eyes, and said solemnly: "For ever and ever!" + +"No, my son," said the old man, smiling and almost weeping, "that is not +the right answer. I like your whole-hearted love. But it is far easier +to say 'for ever and ever,' standing as you think you do now on the +brink of eternity, than to say 'till death do us part,' looking down a +long and weary road of toil and sickness and poverty and change and +little vexations. You do not only take this woman, young and blooming, +but old and sick and withered and wearied, perhaps. Do you take her +for any lot?" + +"For any lot," said August solemnly and humbly. + +And Julia, on her part, could only bow her head in reply to the +questions, for the tears chased one another down her cheeks. And then +came the benediction. The inspired old man, full of hearty sympathy, +stretched his trembling hands with apostolic solemnity over the heads of +the two, and said slowly, with solemn pauses, as the words welled up out +of his soul: "The peace of God--that passeth all understanding" (here +his voice melted with emotion)--"keep your hearts--and minds--in the +knowledge and love of God.--And now, may grace--mercy--and peace from +God--_the Father_--and _our_ Lord Jesus Christ--be with +you--evermore--Amen!" And to the imagination of Julia the Spirit of God +descended like a dove into her heart, and the great mystery of wifely +love and the other greater mystery of love to God seemed to flow +together in her soul. And the quieter spirit of August was suffused with +a great peace. + +They soon left the castle to return to the mount of ascension, but they +walked slowly, and at first silently, over the intervening hill, which +gave them a view of the Ohio River, sleeping in its indescribable beauty +and stillness in the moonlight. + +Presently they heard the melodious voice of the old presiding elder, +riding up the road a little way off, singing the hopeful hymns in which +he so much delighted. The rich and earnest voice made the woods ring +with one verse of + + "Oh! how happy are they + Who the Saviour obey, + And have laid up their treasure above I + Tongue can never express + The sweet comfort and peace + Of a soul in its earliest love." + +And then he broke into Watts's + + "When I can read my title clear + To mansions in the skies, + I'll bid farewell to every fear + And wipe my weeping eyes!" + +There seemed to be some accord between the singing of the brave old man +and the peacefulness of the landscape. Soon he had reached the last +stanza, and in tones of subdued but ecstatic triumph he sang: + + "There I shall bathe my weary soul + In seas of heavenly rest, + And not a wave of trouble roll + Across my peaceful breast." + +And with these words he passed round the hill and out of the hearing of +the young people. + +"August," said Julia slowly, as if afraid to break a silence so blessed, +"August, it seems to me that the sky and the river and the hazy hills +and my own soul are all alike, just as full of happiness and peace as +they can be." + +"Yes," said August, smiling, "but the sky is clear, and your eyes are +raining, Julia. But can it be possible that God, who made this world so +beautiful, will burn it up to-night? It used to seem a hard world to me +when I was away from you, and I didn't care how quickly it burned up. +But now--" + +Somehow August forgot to finish that sentence. Words are of so little +use under such circumstances. A little pressure on Julia's arm which was +in his, told all that he meant. When love makes earth a heaven, it +is enough. + +"But how beautiful the new earth will be," said Julia, still looking at +the sleeping river, "the river of life will be clear as crystal!" + +"Yes," said August, "the Spanish version says, 'Most resplendent, like +unto crystal.'" + +"I think," said Julia, "that it must be something like this river. The +trees of life will stand on either side, like those great sycamores that +lean over the water so gracefully." + +Any landscape would have seemed heavenly to Julia on this night. A +venerable friend of mine, a true Christian philanthropist, whose praise +is in all the churches, wants me to undertake to reform fictitious +literature by leaving out the love. And so I may when God reforms His +universe by leaving out the love. Love is the best thing in novels; not +until love is turned out of heaven will I help turn it out of +literature. It is only the misrepresentation of love in literature that +is bad, as the poisoning of love in life is bad. It was the love of +August that had opened Julia's heart to the influences of heaven, and +Julia was to August a mediator of God's grace. + +By eleven o'clock August Wehle and his wife--it gives me nearly as much +pleasure as it did August to use that locution--were standing not far +away from the surging crowd of those who, in singing hymns and in +excited prayer, were waiting for the judgment. Jonas and Cynthy and +Andrew were with them. August, though not a recognized Millerite, almost +blamed himself that he should have been away these two hours from the +services. But why should he? The most sacramental of all the sacraments +is marriage. Is it not an arbitrary distinction of theologians, that +which makes two rites to be sacraments and others not? But if the +distinction is to be made at all, I should apply the solemn word to the +solemnest rite and the holiest ordinance of God's, even if I left out +the sacred washing in the name of the Trinity and the broken emblematic +bread and the wine. These are sacramental in their solemn symbolism, +that in the solemnest symbolism and the holiest reality. + +August's whole attention was now turned toward the coming judgment; and +as he stood thinking of the awfulness of this critical moment, the +exercises of the Adventists grated on the deep peacefulness of his +spirit, for from singing their more beautiful hymns, they had passed to +an excited shouting of the old camp-meeting ditty whose refrain is: + +"I hope to shout glory when this world's all on fire! Hallelujah!" + +He and Julia hung back a moment, but Mrs. Abigail, who had recovered +from her tenth trance, and had been for some time engaged in an active +search for Julia, now pounced upon her, and bore her off, before she had +time to think, to the place of the hottest excitement. + + + +CHAPTER XLIII. + +THE MIDNIGHT ALARM. + +At last the time drew on toward midnight, the hour upon which all +expectation was concentrated. For did not the Parable of the Ten Virgins +speak of the coming of the bridegroom at midnight? + +"My friends and brethren," said Elder Hankins, his voice shaking with +emotion, as he held his watch up in the moonlight, "My friends and +brethren, ef the Word is true, they is but five minutes more before the +comin' in of the new dispensation. Let us spend the last moments of time +in silent devotion." + +"I wonder ef he thinks the world runs down by his pay-tent-leever +watch?" said Jonas, who could not resist the impulse to make the remark, +even with the expectation of the immediate coming of the day of judgment +in his mind. + +"I wonder for what longitude he calculates prophecy?" said Andrew. "It +can not be midnight all round the world at the same moment." + +But Elder Hankins's flock did not take any astronomical difficulty into +consideration. And no spectator could look upon them, bowing silently in +prayer, awed by the expectation of the sudden coming of the Lord, +without feeling that, however much the expectation might be illusory, +the emotion was a fact absolutely awful. Events are only sublime as they +move the human soul, and the swift-coming end of time was subjectively a +great reality to these waiting people. Even Andrew was awe-stricken from +sympathy; as Coleridge, when he stood godfather for Keble's child, was +overwhelmed with a sense of the significance of the sacrament from +Keble's stand-point. As for Cynthy Ann, she trembled with fear as she +held fast to the arm of Jonas. And Jonas felt as much seriousness as was +possible to him, until he heard Norman Anderson's voice crying with +terror and excitement, and felt Cynthy shudder on his arm. + +"For my part," said Jonas, turning to Andrew, "it don't seem like as ef +it was much use to holler and make a furss about the corn crap when +October's fairly sot in, and the frost has nipped the blades. All the +plowin' and hoein' and weedin' and thinnin' out the suckers won't, +better the yield then. An' when wheat's ripe, they's nothin' to be done +fer it. It's got to be rep jest as it stan's. I'm rale sorry, to-night, +as my life a'n't no better, but what's the use of cryin' over it? They's +nothin' to do now but let it be gethered and shelled out, and measured +up in the standard half-bushel of the sanctuary. And I'm afeard they'll +be a heap of nubbins not wuth the shuckin'. But ef it don't come to six +bushels the acre, I can't help it now by takin' on." + +At twelve o'clock, even the scoffers were silent. But as the sultry +night drew on toward one o'clock, Bill Day and his party felt their +spirits revive a little. The calculation had failed in one part, and it +might in all. Bill resumed his burlesque exhortations to the +rough-looking "brethren" about him. He tried to lead them in singing +some ribald parody of Adventist hymns, but his terror and theirs was +too genuine, and their voices died down into husky whispers, and they +were more alarmed than ever at discovering the extent of their own +demoralization. The bottle, one of those small-necked, big-bodied +quart-bottles that Western topers carry in yellow-cotton handkerchiefs, +was passed round. But even the whisky seemed powerless to neutralize +their terror, rather increasing the panic by fuddling their faculties. + +"Boys!" said Bob Short, trembling, and sitting down on a stump, +"this--this ere thing--is a gittin' serious. Ef--well, ef it _was_ to +happen--you know--you don't s'pose--ahem--you don't think God A'mighty +would be _too_ heavy on a feller. Do ye? Ef it was to come to-night, it +would be blamed short notice." + +At one o'clock the moon was just about dipping behind the hills, and the +great sycamores, standing like giant sentinels on the river's marge, +cast long unearthly shadows across the water, which grew blacker every +minute. The deepening gloom gave all objects in the river valley a +weird, distorted look. This oppressed August. The landscape seemed an +enchanted one, a something seen in a dream or a delirium. It was as +though the change had already come, and the real tangible world had +passed away. He was the more susceptible from the depression caused by +the hot sultriness of the night, and his separation from Julia. + +He thought he would try to penetrate the crowd to the point where his +mother was; then he would be near her, and nearer to Julia if anything +happened. A curious infatuation had taken hold of August. He knew that +it was an infatuation, but he could not shake it off. He had resolved +that in case the trumpet should be heard in the heavens, he would seize +Julia and claim her in the very moment of universal dissolution. He +reached his mother, and as he looked into her calm face, ready for the +millennium or for anything else "the Father" should decree, he thought +she had never seemed more glorious than she did now, sitting with her +children about her, almost unmoved by the excitement. For Mrs. Wehle had +come to take everything as from the Heavenly Father. She had even +received honest but thick-headed Gottlieb in this spirit, when he had +fallen to her by the Moravian lot, a husband chosen for her by the Lord, +whose will was not to be questioned. + +August was just about to speak to his mother, when he was forced to hang +his head in shame, for there was his father rising to exhort. + +"O mine freunde! pe shust immediadely all of de dime retty. Ton't led +your vait vail already, and ton't let de debil git no unter holts on ye. +Vatch and pe retty!" + +And August could hear the derisive shouts of Bill Day's party, who had +recovered their courage, crying out, "Go it, ole Dutchman! I'll bet on +you!" He clenched his fist in anger, but his mother's eyes, looking at +him with quiet rebuke, pacified him in a moment. Yet he could not help +wondering whether blundering kinsfolk made people blush in the +next world. + +"Holt on doo de last ent!" continued Gottlieb. "It's pout goom! Kood +pye, ole moon! You koes town, you nebber gooms pack no more already." + +This exhortation might have proceeded in this strain indefinitely, to +the mortification of August and the amusement of the profane, had there +not just at that moment broken upon the sultry stillness of the night +one of those crescendo thunder-bursts, beginning in a distant rumble, +and swelling out louder and still louder, until it ended with a +tremendous detonation. In the strange light of the setting moon, while +everybody's attention was engrossed by the excitement, the swift +oncoming of a thunder-cloud had not been observed by any but Andrew, and +it had already climbed half-way to the zenith, blotting out a third of +the firmament. This inverted thunder-bolt produced a startling effect +upon the over-strained nerves of the crowd. Some cried out with terror, +some sobbed with hysterical agony, some shouted in triumph, and it was +generally believed that Virginia Waters, who died a maniac many years +afterward, lost her reason at that moment. Bill Day ceased his mocking, +and shook till his teeth chattered. And none of his party dared laugh at +him. The moon had now gone, and the vivid lightning followed the +thunder, and yet louder and more fearful thunder succeeded the +lightning. The people ran about as if demented, and Julia was left +alone. August had only one thought in all this confusion, and that was +to find Julia. Having found her, they clasped hands, and stood upon the +brow of the hill calmly watching the coming tempest, believing it to be +the coming of the end. Between the claps of thunder they could hear the +broken sentences of Elder Hankins, saying something about the lightning +that shineth from one part of heaven to the other, and about the +promised coming in the clouds. But they did not much heed the words. +They were looking the blinding lightning in the face, and in their +courageous trust they thought themselves ready to look into the flaming +countenance of the Almighty, if they should be called before Him. Every +fresh burst of thunder seemed to August to be the rocking of the world, +trembling in the throes of dissolution. But the world might crumble or +melt; there is something more enduring than the world. August felt the +everlastingness of love; as many another man in a supreme crisis +has felt it. + +But the swift cloud had already covered half the sky, and the bursts of +thunder followed one another now in quicker succession. And as suddenly +as the thunder had come, came the wind. A solitary old sycamore, leaning +over the water on the Kentucky shore, a mile away, was first to fall. In +the lurid darkness, August and Julia saw it meet its fate. Then the rail +fences on the nearer bank were scattered like kindling-wood, and some of +the sturdy old apple-trees of the orchard in the river-bottom were +uprooted, while others were stripped of their boughs. Julia clung to +August and said something, but he could only see her lips move; her +voice was drowned by the incessant roar of the thunder. And then the +hurricane struck them, and they half-ran and were half-carried down the +rear slope of the hill. Now they saw for the first time that the people +were gone. The instinct of self-preservation had proven stronger than +their fanaticism, and a contagious panic had carried them into a +hay-barn near by. + +Not knowing where the rest had gone, August and Julia only thought of +regaining the castle. They found the path blocked by fallen trees, and +it was slow and dangerous work, waiting for flashes of lightning to show +them their road. In making a long detour they lost the path. After some +minutes, in a lull in the thunder, August heard a shout, which he +answered, and presently Philosopher Andrew appeared with a lantern, his +grizzled hair and beard flying in the wind. + +"What ho, my friends!" he cried. "This is the way you go to heaven +together! You'll live through many a storm yet!" + +Guided by his thorough knowledge of the ground, they had almost reached +the castle, when they were startled by piteous cries. Leaving August +with Julia, Andrew climbed a fence, and went down into a ravine to find +poor Bill Day in an agony of terror, crying out in despair, believing +that the day of doom had already come, and that he was about to be sent +into well-deserved perdition. Andrew stooped over him with his lantern, +but the poor fellow, giving one look at the shaggy face, shrieked madly, +and rushed away into the woods. + +"I believe," said the Philosopher, when he got back to August, "I +believe he took me for the devil." + + + +CHAPTER XLIV. + +SQUARING ACCOUNTS. + +The summer storm had spent itself by daylight, and the sun rose on that +morning after the world's end much as it had risen on other mornings, +but it looked down upon prostrate trees and scattered fences and +roofless barns. And the minds of the people were in much the same +disheveled state as the landscape. One simple-minded girl was a maniac. +Some declared that the world had ended, and that this was the new earth, +if people only had faith to receive it; some still waited for the end, +and with some the reaction from credulity had already set in, a reaction +that carried them into the blankest atheism and boldest immorality. +People who had spent the summer in looking for a change that would +relieve them from all responsibility, now turned reluctantly +toward the commonplace drudgery of life. It is the evil of all +day-dreaming--day-dreaming about the other world included--that it +unfits us for duty in this world of tangible and inevitable facts. + +It was nearly daylight when Andrew and August and Julia reached the +castle. The Philosopher advised Julia to go home, and for the present +to let the marriage be as though it were not. August dreaded to see +Julia returned to her mother's tyranny, but Andrew was urgent in his +advice, and Julia said that she must not leave her mother in her +trouble. Julia reached home a little after daylight, and a little before +Mrs. Anderson was brought home in a fit of hysterics. + +Poor Mrs. Abigail still hoped that the end of the world for which she +had so fondly prepared would come, but as the days wore on she sank into +a numb despondency. When she thought of the loss of her property, she +groaned and turned her face to the wall. And Samuel Anderson sat about +the house in a dumb and shiftless attitude, as do most men upon whom +financial ruin comes in middle life. The disappointment of his faith and +the overthrow of his fortune had completely paralyzed him. He was +waiting for something, he hardly knew what. He had not even his wife's +driving voice to stimulate him to exertion. + +There was no one now to care for Mrs. Anderson but Julia, for Cynthy had +taken up her abode in the log-cabin which Jonas had bought, and a +happier housekeeper never lived. She watched Jonas till he disappeared +when he went to work in the morning, she carried him a "snack" at ten +o'clock, and headways found her standing "like a picter" at the gate, +when he came home to dinner. But Cynthy Ann generally spent her +afternoons at Anderson's, helping "that young thing" to bear her +responsibilities, though Mrs. Anderson would receive no personal +attentions now from any one but her daughter. She did not scold; her +querulous restlessness was but a reminiscence of her scolding. She lay, +disheartened, watching Julia, and exacting everything from Julia, and +the weary feet and weary heart of the girl almost sank under her +burdens. Mrs. Anderson had suddenly fallen from her position of an +exacting tyrant to that of an exacting and helpless infant. She followed +Julia with her eyes in a broken-spirited fashion, as if fearing that she +would leave her. Julia could read the fear in her mother's countenance; +she understood what her mother meant when she said querulously, "You'll +get married and leave me." If Mrs. Anderson had assumed her old +high-handed manner, it would have been easy for Julia to have declared +her secret. But how could she tell her now? It would be a blow, it might +be a fatal blow. And at the same time how could she satisfy August? He +thought she had bowed to the same old tyranny again for an indefinite +time. But she could not forsake her parents in their poverty and +afflictions. + +The fourteenth of August, the day on which possession was to have been +given to Bob Walker, came and went, but no Bob Walker appeared. A week +more passed, in which Samuel Anderson could not muster enough courage to +go to see Walker, in which Samuel Anderson and his wife waited in a +vague hope that something might happen. And every day of that week Julia +had a letter from August, which did not say one word of the trial that +it was for him to wait, but which said much of the wrong Julia was doing +to herself to submit so long. And Julia, like her father and mother, was +waiting for she knew not what. + +At last the suspense became to her unendurable. + +"Father," she said, "why don't you go to see Bob Walker? You might buy +the farm back again." + +"I don't know why he don't come and take it," said Mr. Anderson +dejectedly. + +This conversation roused Mrs. Abigail. There was some hope. She got up +in bed, and told Samuel to go to the county-seat and see if the deeds +had ever been recorded. And while her husband was gone she sat up and +looked better, and even scolded a little, so that Julia felt encouraged. +But she dreaded to see her father come back. + +Samuel Anderson entered the house on his return with a blank +countenance. Sitting down, he put his face between his hands a minute in +utter dejection. + +"Why don't you speak?" said Mrs. Anderson in a broken voice. + +"The land was all transferred to Andrew immediately, and he owns every +foot of it. He must have sent Bob Walker here to buy it." + +"Oh! I'm so glad!" cried Julia. + +But her mother only gave her one reproachful look and went off into +hysterical sobbing and crying over the wrong that Andrew had done her. +And all that night Julia watched by her mother, while Samuel Anderson +sat in dejection by the bed. As for Norman, he had quickly relapsed into +his old habits, and his former cronies had generously forgiven him his +temporary piety, considering the peculiar circumstances of the case some +extenuation. Now that there was trouble in the house he staid away, +which was a good thing so far as it went. + +The next afternoon Mrs. Anderson rallied a little, and, looking at +Julia, she said in her querulous way, "Why don't you go and see him?" + +"Who?" said Julia with a shiver, afraid that her mother was insane. + +"Andrew." + +Julia did not need any second hint. Leaving her mother with Cynthy, she +soon presented herself at the door of the castle. + +"Did _she_ send you?" asked Andrew dryly. + +"Yes, sir." + +"I've been expecting you for a long time. I'll go back with you. But +August must go along. He'll be glad of an excuse to see your face again. +You look thin, my poor girl." + +They went past Wehle's, and August was only too glad to join them, +rejoicing that some sort of a crisis had come, though how it was to help +him he did not know. With the restlessness of a man looking for some +indefinable thing to turn up, Samuel was out on the porch waiting the +return of his daughter. Jonas had come for Cynthy Ann, and was sitting +on a "shuck-bottom" chair in front of the house. + +Andrew reached out his hand and greeted his brother cordially, and spoke +civilly to Abigail. Then there was a pause, and Mrs. Anderson turned her +head to the wall and groaned. After a while she looked round and saw +August. A little of her old indignation came into her eyes as she +whimpered, "What did _he_ come for?" + +"I brought him," said Andrew. + +"Well, it's your house, do as you please. I suppose you'll turn us out +of our own home now." + +"As you did me," said the Philosopher, smiling. "Let me remind you that +I was living on the river farm. My father had promised it to me, and +given me possession. A week before his death you got the will changed, +by what means you know. You turned me off the farm which had virtually +been mine for two years. If I turn you off now, it will be no more +than fair." + +There was a look of pained surprise on Julia's face. She had not known +that the wrong her uncle had suffered was so great. She had not thought +that he would be so severe as to turn her father out. + +"I don't want to talk of these things," Andrew went on. "I ought to +have broken the will, but I was not a believer in the law. I tell this +story now because I must justify myself to these young people for what I +am going to do. You have had the use of that part of the estate which +was rightfully mine for twenty years. I suppose I may claim it all now." + +Julia's eyes looked at him pleadingly. + +"Why don't you send us off and be done with it then?" said Mrs. Abigail, +rising up and resuming her old vehemence. "You set out to ruin us, and +now you've done it. A nice brother you are! Ruining us by a conspiracy +with Bob Walker, and then sitting here and trying to make my own +daughter think you did right, and bringing that hateful fellow here to +hear it!" Her finger was leveled at August. + +"I am glad to see you are better, Abigail. I wanted to be sure you were +strong enough to bear all I have to say." + +"Say your worst and do your worst, you cruel, cruel man! I have borne +enough from you in these years, and now you can say and do what you +please; you can't do me any more harm. I suppose I must leave my old +home that I've lived in so long." + +"You need not worry yourself about leaving; that's what I came over to +say." + +"As if I'd stay in _your_ house an hour! I'll not take any favors at +_your_ hand." + +"Don't be rash, Abigail. I have deeded this hill farm to Samuel, and +here is the deed. I have given you back the best half of the property, +just what my father meant you to have. I have only kept the river land, +that should have been mine twenty years ago. I hope you will not stick +to your resolution not to receive anything at my hand." + +And Julia said: "Oh! I'm so--" + +But Mrs. Anderson had a convenient fit of hysterics, crying piteously. +Meantime Samuel gladly accepted the deed. + +"The deed is already recorded. I sent it down yesterday as soon as I saw +Samuel come back, and I got it back this morning. The farm is yours +without condition." + +This relieved Abigail, and she soon ceased her sobbing. Andrew could not +take it back then, whatever she might say. + +"Now," said Andrew, "I have only divided the farms without claiming any +damages. I want to ask a favor. Let Julia marry the man of her choice +in peace." + +"You have taken one farm, and therefore I must let my daughter marry a +man with nothing but his two hands," sobbed Mrs. Anderson. + +"Two hands and a good head and a noble heart," said Andrew. + +"Well, I won't consent," said she. "If Julia marries _him_," pointing to +August, "she will marry without my consent, and he will not get a cent +of the money he's after. Not a red cent!" + +"I don't want your money. I did not know you'd get your farm back, for I +did not know but that Walker owned it, and I--wanted--Julia all the +same." August had almost told that he had married Julia. + +"Wanted her and married her," said Andrew. "And I have not kept a +corn-stalk of the property I got from you. I have given Bob Walker a +ten-acre patch for his services, and all the rest I have deeded to the +two best people I know. This August Wehle married Julia Anderson when +they thought the world might be near its end, and believing that, at any +rate, she would not have a penny in the world. I have deeded the river +farm to August Wehle and his wife." + +"Married, eh? Come and ask my consent afterwards? That's a fine way!" +And Abigail grew white and grew silent with passion. + +"Come, August, I want to show you and Julia something," said Andrew. He +really wanted to give Abigail time to look the matter in the face +quietly before she committed herself too far. But he told the two young +people that they might make their home with him while their house was in +building. He had already had part of the material drawn, and from the +brow of the hill they looked down upon the site he had chosen near the +old tumble-down tenant's house. But Andrew saw that Julia looked +disappointed. + +"You are not satisfied, my brave girl. What is the matter?" + +"Oh! yes, I am very happy, and very thankful to you; and next to August +I love you more than anybody--except my parents." + +"But something is different to what you wished it. Doesn't the site suit +you? You can look off on to the river from the rise on which the house +will stand, and I do not know how it could be better." + +"It couldn't be better," said Julia, "but--' + +"But what? You must tell me." + +"I thought maybe you'd let us live at the castle and take the burden of +things off you. I should like to keep your house for you, just to show +you how much I love my dear, good uncle." + +Even an anchorite could not help feeling a pleasure at such a speech +from such a young woman, and this shaggy, solitary, misanthropic but +tender-hearted man felt a sudden rush of pleasure. August saw it, and +was delighted. What one's nearest friend thinks of one's wife is a vital +question, and August was happier at this moment than he had ever been. +Andrew's pleasure at Julia's loving speech was the climax. + +"Yes!" said the Philosopher, a little huskily. "You want to sacrifice +your pleasure by living in my gloomy old castle, and civilizing an old +heathen like me. You mustn't tempt me too far." + +"I don't see why you call it gloomy. It wasn't only for your sake that I +said it. I think it is the nicest old house I ever saw. And then the +books, and--and--you." Julia stumbled a little, she was not accustomed +to make speeches of this sort. + +"You flatterer!" burst out Andrew. "But no, you must have your own +house." + +Mrs. Anderson, on her part, had concluded to make the best of it. Julia +already married and the mistress of the Anderson river farm was quite a +different thing from Julia under her thumb. She was to be conciliated. +Besides, Mrs. Anderson did not want Julia's prosperity to be a lifelong +source of humiliation to her. She must take some stock in it at +the start. + +"Jule," she said, as her daughter re-entered the door, "I can let you +have two feather-beds and four pillows, and a good stock of linen and +blankets. And you can have the two heifers and the sorrel colt." + +The two "heifers" were six, and the sorrel "colt" was seven years of +age; but descriptive names often outlive the qualities to which they +owed their origin. Just as a judge is even yet addressed as "your +honor," and many a governor without anything to recommend him hears +himself called "your excellency." + +When Abigail surrendered in this graceful fashion, Julia was touched, +and was on the point of putting her arms around her mother and kissing +her. But Mrs. Anderson was not a person easily caressed, and Julia did +not yield to her impulse. + +"Cynthy Ann, my dear," said Jonas, as they walked home that evening, "do +you know what Abig'il Anderson reminds me of?" + +No; Cynthy Ann didn't exactly know. In fact, it would have been +difficult for anybody to have told what anything was likely to remind +Jonas of. There was no knowing what a thing might not suggest to him. + +"Well, Cynthy, my Imperial Sweetness, when I see Abig'il come down so +beautiful, it reminded me of a little fice-t dog I had when I was a +leetle codger. I called him Pick. His name was Picayune. Purty good +name, wasn't it?" + +"Yes, it was." + +"Well, now, that air little Pick wouldn't never own up as he was driv +outen the house. When he was whipped out, he wouldn't never tuck his +tail down, but curl it up over his back, and run acrost the yard and +through the fence and down the road a-barkin' fit to kill. Wanted to let +on like as ef he'd run out of his own accord, with malice aforethought, +you know. _That's_ Abig'il." + + + +CHAPTER XLV. + +NEW PLANS. + +Except Abigail Anderson and one other person, everybody in the little +world of Clark township approved mightily the justice and +disinterestedness of Andrew. He had righted himself and Julia at a +stroke, and people dearly love to have justice dealt out when it is not +at their own expense. Samuel, who cherished in secret a great love for +his daughter, was more than pleased that affairs had turned out in this +way. But there was one beside Abigail who was not wholly satisfied. +August spent half the night in protesting in vain against Andrew's +transfer of the river-farm to him. But Andrew said he had a right to +give away his own if he chose. And there was no turning him. For if +August refused a share in it, he would give it to Julia, and if she +refused it, he would find somebody who would accept it. + +The next day after the settlement at Samuel Anderson's, August came to +claim his wife. Mrs. Abigail had now employed a "help" in Cynthy Ann's +place, and Julia could be spared. August had refused all invitations to +take up his temporary residence with Julia's parents. The house had +unpleasant associations in his mind, and he wanted to relieve Julia at +once and forever from a despotism to which she could not offer any +effectual resistance. Mrs. Anderson had eagerly loaded the wagon with +feather-beds and other bridal property, and sent it over to the castle, +that Julia might appear to leave with her blessing. She kissed Julia +tenderly, and hoped she'd have a happy life, and told her that if her +husband should ever lose his property or treat her badly--such things +_may_ happen, you know--then she would always find a home with her +mother. Julia thanked her for the offer of a refuge to which she never +meant to flee under any circumstances. And yet one never turns away from +one's home without regret, and Julia looked back with tears in her eyes +at the chattering swifts whose nests were in the parlor chimney, and at +the pee-wee chirping on the gate-post. The place had entered into her +life. It looked lonesome now, but within a year afterward Norman +suddenly married Betsey Malcolm. Betsey's child had died soon after its +birth, and Mrs. Anderson set herself to manage both Norman and his wife, +who took up their abode with her. Nothing but a reign of terror could +have made either of them of any account, but Mrs. Anderson furnished +them this in any desirable quantity. They were never of much worth, even +under her management, but she kept them in bounds, so that Norman ceased +to get drunk more than five or six times a year, and Betsey flirted but +little and at her peril. + +Once the old house was out of sight, there were no shadows on Julia's +face as she looked forward toward the new life. She walked in a still +happiness by August as they went down through Shady Hollow. August had +intended to show her a letter that he had from the mud-clerk, +describing the bringing of Humphreys back to Paducah and his execution +by a mob. But there was something so repelling in the gusto with which +the story was told, and the story was so awful in itself, that he could +not bear to interrupt the peaceful happiness of this hour by saying +anything about it. + +August proposed to Julia that they should take a path through the meadow +of the river-farm--their own farm now--and see the foundation of the +little cottage Andrew had begun for them. And so in happiness they +walked on through the meadow-path to the place on which their home was +to stand. But, alas! there was not a stick of timber left. Every +particle of the material had been removed. It seemed that some great +disappointment threatened them at the moment of their happiness. They +hurried on in silent foreboding to the castle, but there the mystery was +explained. + +"I told you not to tempt me too far," said Andrew. "See! I have +concluded to build an addition to the castle and let you civilize me. We +will live together and I will reform. This lonely life is not healthy, +and now that I have children, why should I not let them live here +with me?" + +Julia looked happy. I have no authentic information in regard to the +exact words which she made use of to express her joy, but from what is +known of girls of her age in general, it is safe to infer that she +exclaimed, "Oh! I'm so glad!" + +While Andrew stood there smiling, with Julia near him, August having +gone to the assistance of the carpenters in a matter demanding a little +more ingenuity than they possessed, Jonas came up and drew the +Philosopher aside. Julia could not hear what was said, but she saw +Andrew's brow contract. + +"I'll shoot as sure as they come!" he said with passion. "I won't have +my niece or August insulted in my house by a parcel of vagabonds." + +"O Uncle Andrew! is it a shiveree?" asked Julia. + +"Yes." + +"Well, don't shoot. It'll be so funny to have a shiveree." + +"But it is an insult to you and to August and to me. This is meant +especially to be an expression of their feeling toward August as a +German, though really their envy of his good fortune has much to do with +it. It is a second edition of the riot of last spring, in which Gottlieb +came so near to being killed. Now, I mean to do my country service by +leaving one or two less of them alive if they come here to-night." For +Andrew was full of that destructive energy so characteristic of the +Western and Southern people. + +"Oh! no, don't shoot. Can't you think of some other way?" pleaded Julia. + +"Well, yes, I could get the sheriff to come and bag a few of them." + +"And that will make trouble for many years. Let me see. Can't we do +this?" And Julia rapidly unfolded to Andrew and Jonas her plan of +operations against the enemy. + +"Number one!" said Jonas. "They'll fall into that air amby-scade as sure +as shootin'. That plan is military and Christian and civilized and human +and angelical and tancy-crumptious. It ort to meet the 'proval of the +American Fish-hawk with all his pinions and talents. I'll help to +execute it, and beat the rascals or lay my bones a-bleachin' on the +desert sands of Shady Holler." + +"Well," said Andrew to Julia, "I knew, if I took you under my roof, +you'd make a Christian of me in spite of myself. And I _am_ a sort of +savage, that's a fact." + +Jonas hurried home and sent Cynthy over to the castle, and there was +much work going on that afternoon. Andrew said that the castle was being +made ready for its first siege. As night came on, Julia was in a perfect +glee. Reddened by standing over the stove, with sleeves above her elbows +and her black hair falling down upon her shoulders, she was such a +picture that August stopped and stood in the door a minute to look at +her as he came in to supper. + +"Why, Jule, how glorious you look!" he said. "I've a great mind to fall +in love with you, mein Liebchen!" + +"And I _have_ fallen in love with _you_, Cæsar Augustus!" And well she +might, for surely, as he stood in the door with his well-knit frame, his +fine German forehead, his pure, refined mouth, and his clear, honest, +amiable blue eyes, he was a man to fall in love with. + + + +CHAPTER XLVI. + +THE SHIVEREE. + +If Webster's "American Dictionary of the English Language" had not been +made wholly in New England, it would not have lacked so many words that +do duty as native-born or naturalized citizens in large sections of the +United States, and among these words is the one that stands at the head +of the present chapter. I know that some disdainful prig will assure me +that it is but a corruption of the French "_charivari,"_ and so it is; +but then "_charivari_" is a corruption of the low Latin "_charivarium_" +and that is a corruption of something else, and, indeed, almost every +word is a corruption of some other word. So that there is no good reason +why "shiveree," which lives in entire unconsciousness of its French +parentage and its Latin grand-parentage, should not find its place in an +"American Dictionary." + +But while I am writing a disquisition on the etymology of the word, the +"shiveree" is mustering at Mandluff's store. Bill Day has concluded that +he is in no immediate danger of perdition, and that a man is a "blamed +fool to git skeered about his soul." Bob Short is sure the Almighty will +not be too hard on a feller, and so thinks he will go on having "a +little fun" now and then. And among the manly recreations which they +have proposed to themselves is that of shivereeing "that Dutchman, Gus +Wehle." It is the solemn opinion of the whole crowd that "no Dutchman +hadn't orter be so lucky as to git sech a beauty of a gal and a hundred +acres of bottom lands to boot." + +The members of the party were all disguised, some in one way and some in +another, though most of them had their coats inside out. They thought it +necessary to be disguised, "bekase, you know," as Bill Day expressed it, +"ole Grizzly is apt to prosecute ef he gits evidence agin you." And many +were the conjectures as to whether he would shoot or not. + +The instruments provided by this orchestra were as various as their +musical tastes. It is likely that even Mr. Jubilee Gilmore never saw +such an outfit. Bob Short had a dumb-bull, a keg with a strip of +raw-hide stretched across one end like a drum-head, while the other +remained open. A waxed cord inserted in the middle of the drum-head, and +reaching down through the keg, completed the instrument. The pulling of +the hand over this cord made a hideous bellowing, hence its name. Bill +Day had a gigantic watchman's rattle, a hickory spring on a cog-wheel. +It is called in the West, a horse-fiddle, because it is so unlike either +a horse or a fiddle. Then there were melodious tin pans and conch-shells +and tin horns. But the most deadly noise was made by Jim West, who had +two iron skillet-lids ("leds" he called them) which, when placed face to +face, and rubbed, as you have seen children rub tumblers, made a sound +discordant and deafening enough to have suggested Milton's expression +about the hinges which "grated harsh thunder." + +One of this party was a tallish man, so dressed as to look like a +hunchback, and a hunchback so tall was a most singular figure. He had +joined them in the dark, and the rest were unable to guess who it could +be, and he, for his part, would not tell. They thumped him and pushed +him, but at each attack he only leaped from the ground like a circus +clown, and made his tin horn utter so doleful a complaint as set the +party in an uproar of laughter. They could not be sure who he was, but +he was a funny fellow to have along with them at any rate. + +He was not only funny, but he was evidently fearless. For when they came +to the castle it was all dark and still. Bill Day said that it looked +"powerful juberous to him. Ole Andy meant to use shootin'-ir'ns, and +didn't want to be pestered with no lights blazin' in his eyes." But the +tall hunchback cleared the fence at a bound, and told them to come on +"ef they had the sperrit of a two-weeks-old goslin into 'em." So the +bottle was passed round, and for very shame they followed their +ungainly leader. + +"Looky here, boys," said the hunchback, "they's one way that we can fix +it so's ole Grizzly can't shoot. They's a little shop-place, a sort of a +shed, agin the house, on the side next to the branch. Let's git in thar +afore we begin, and he can't shoot." + +The orchestra were a little stupefied with drink, and they took the idea +quickly, never stopping to ask how they could retreat if Andrew chose to +shoot. Jim West thought things looked scaly, but he warn't agoin' to +backslide arter he'd got so fur. + +When they got into Andrew's shop, where he had a new and beautiful +skiff in building, the tall hunchback shut the door, and the rest did +not notice that he put the key in his pocket. + +That serenade! Such a medley of discordant sounds, such a clatter and +clangor, such a rattle of horse-fiddle, such a bellowing of dumb-bull, +such a snorting of tin horns, such a ringing of tin pans, such a +grinding of skillet-lids! But the house remained quiet. Once Bill Day +thought that he heard a laugh within. Julia may have lost her +self-control. She was so happy, and a little unrestrained fun was so +strange a luxury! + +At last the door between the house and shop was suddenly opened, and +Julia, radiant as she could be, stood on the threshold with a candle +in her hand. + +"Come in, gentlemen." + +But the gentlemen essayed to go out. + +"Locked in, by thunder!" said Jim West, trying the outside door of the +shop. + +"We heard you were coming, gentlemen, and provided a little +entertainment. Come in!" + +"Come in, boys," said the hunchback, "don't be afeard of nobody." + +Mechanically they followed the hunchback into the room, for there was +nothing else to be done. A smell of hot coffee and the sight of a +well-spread table greeted their senses. + +"Welcome, my friends, thrice welcome!" said Andrew. "Put down your +instruments and have some supper." + +"Let me relieve you," said Julia, and she took the dumb-bull from Bob +Short and the "horse-fiddle" from Day, the tin horns and tin pans from +others, and the two skillet-lids from Jim West, who looked as sheepish +as possible. August escorted each of them to the table, though his face +did not look altogether cordial. Some old resentment for the treatment +of his father interfered with the heartiness of his hospitality. The +hunchback in this light proved to be Jonas, of course; and Bill Day +whispered to the one next to him that they had been "tuck in and done +fer that time." + +"Gentlemen," said Andrew, "we are much obliged for your music." And +Cynthy would certainly have laughed out if she had not been so perplexed +in her mind to know whether Andrew was speaking the truth. + +Such a motley set of wedding guests as they were, with their coats +inside out and their other disguises! Such a race of pied pipers! And +looking at their hangdog faces you would have said, "Such a lot of +sheep-thieves!" Though why a sheep-thief is considered to be a more +guilty-looking man than any other criminal, I do not know. Jonas looked +bright enough and ridiculous enough with his hunch. They all ate rather +heartily, for how could they resist the attentions of Cynthy Ann and the +persuasions of Julia, who poured them coffee and handed them biscuit, +and waited upon them as though they were royal guests! And, moreover, +the act of eating served to cover their confusion. + +As the meal drew to a close, Bill Day felt that he, being in some sense +the leader of the party, ought to speak. He was not quite sober, though +he could stand without much staggering. He had been trying for some time +to frame a little speech, but his faculties did not work smoothly. + +"Mr. President--I mean Mr. Anderson--permit me to offer you our pardon. +I mean to beg your apologies--to--ahem--hope that our--that +your--our--thousand--thanks--your--you know what I mean." And he sat +down in foolish confusion. + +"Oh! yes. All right; much obliged, my friend," said the Philosopher, +who had not felt so much boyish animal life in twenty-five years. + +And Jim West whispered to Bill: "You expressed my sentiments exactly." + +"Mr. Anderson," said Jonas, rising, and thus lifting up his hunched +shoulders and looking the picture of a long-legged heron standing in the +water, "Mr. Anderson, you and our young and happy friend, Mr. Wehle, +will accept our thanks. We thought that music was all you wanted to gin +a delightful--kinder--sorter--well, top-dressin', to this interestin' +occasion. Now they's nothin' sweeter'n a tin horn, 'thout 'tis a +melodious conch-shell utterin' its voice like a turkle-dove. Then we've +got the paytent double whirlymagig hoss-violeen, and the tin pannyforte, +and, better nor all, the grindin' skelletled cymbals. We've laid +ourselves out and done our purtiest--hain't we, feller-musicians?--to +prove that we was the best band on the Ohio River. An' all out of +affection and respect for this ere happy pair. And we're all happy to be +here. Hain't we?" (Here they all nodded assent, though they looked as +though they wished themselves far enough.) "Our enstruments is a leetle +out of toon, owin' to the dampness of the night air, and so I trust +you'll excuse us playin' a farewell piece." + +Jim West was so anxious to get away that he took advantage of this turn +to say good-evening, and though the mischievous Julia insisted that he +should select his instrument, he had not the face to confess to the +skillet-lids, and got out of it by assuring her that he hadn't brought +nothing, "only come along to see the fun." And each member of the party +repeated the transparent lie, so that Julia found herself supplied with +more musical instruments than any young housekeeper need want, and +Andrew hung them, horns, pans, conch-shell, dumb-bull, horse-fiddle, +skillet-lids, and all, in his library, as trophies captured from +the enemy. + +Much as I should like to tell you of the later events of the +Philosopher's life, and about Julia and August, and their oldest son, +whose name is Andrew, and all that, I do not know that I can do better +than to bow myself out with the abashed serenaders, letting this musical +epilogue harmoniously close the book; writing just here. + +THE END. + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The End Of The World, by Edward Eggleston + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14051 *** |