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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/3765.txt b/3765.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bed735c --- /dev/null +++ b/3765.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6495 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Coniston, Book IV., by Winston Churchill + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Coniston, Book IV. + +Author: Winston Churchill + +Release Date: October 17, 2004 [EBook #3765] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CONISTON, BOOK IV. *** + + + + +Produced by Pat Castevans and David Widger + + + + + +CONISTON + +By Winston Churchill + + + +BOOK IV + + + +CHAPTER XI + +The next morning Cynthia's heart was heavy as she greeted her new friends +at Miss Sadler's school. Life had made a woman of her long ago, while +these girls had yet been in short dresses, and now an experience had come +to her which few, if any, of these could ever know. It was of no use for +her to deny to herself that she loved Bob Worthington--loved him with the +full intensity of the strong nature that was hers. To how many of these +girls would come such a love? and how many would be called upon to make +such a renunciation as hers had been? No wonder she felt out of place +among them, and once more the longing to fly away to Coniston almost +overcame her. Jethro would forgive her, she knew, and stretch out his +arms to receive her, and understand that some trouble had driven her to +him. + +She was aroused by some one calling her name--some one whose voice +sounded strangely familiar. Cynthia was perhaps the only person in the +school that day who did not know that Miss Janet Duncan had entered it. +Miss Sadler certainly knew it, and asked Miss Duncan very particularly +about her father and mother and even her brother. Miss Sadler knew, even +before Janet's unexpected arrival, that Mr. and Mrs. Duncan had come to +Boston after Christmas, and had taken a large house in the Back Bay in +order to be near their son at Harvard. Mrs. Duncan was, in fact, a +Bostonian, and more at home there than at any other place. + +Miss Sadler observed with a great deal of astonishment the warm embrace +that Janet bestowed on Cynthia. The occurrence started in Miss Sadler a +train of thought, as a result of which she left the drawing-room where +these reunions were held, and went into her own private study to write a +note. This she addressed to Mrs. Alexander Duncan, at a certain number on +Beacon Street, and sent it out to be posted immediately. In the meantime, +Janet Duncan had seated herself on the sofa beside Cynthia, not having +for an instant ceased to talk to her. Of what use to write a romance, +when they unfolded themselves so beautifully in real life! Here was the +country girl she had seen in Washington already in a fine way to become +the princess, and in four months! Janet would not have thought it +possible for any one to change so much in such a time. Cynthia listened, +and wondered what language Miss Duncan would use if she knew how great +and how complete that change had been. Romances, Cynthia thought sadly, +were one thing to theorize about and quite another thing to endure--and +smiled at the thought. But Miss Duncan had no use for a heroine without a +heartache. + +It is not improbable that Miss Janet Duncan may appear with Miss Sally +Broke in another volume. The style of her conversation is known, and +there is no room to reproduce it here. She, too, had a heart, but she was +a young woman given to infatuations, as Cynthia rightly guessed. Cynthia +must spend many afternoons at her house--lunch with her, drive with her. +For one omission Cynthia was thankful: she did not mention Bob +Worthington's name. There was the romance under Miss Duncan's nose, and +she did not see it. It is frequently so with romancers. + +Cynthia's impassiveness, her complete poise, had fascinated Miss Duncan +with the others. Had there been nothing beneath that exterior, Janet +would never have guessed it, and she would have been quite as happy. +Cynthia saw very clearly that Mr. Worthington or no other man or woman +could force Bob to marry Janet. + +The next morning, in such intervals as her studies permitted, Janet +continued her attentions to Cynthia. That same morning she had brought a +note from her father to Miss Sadler, of the contents of which Janet knew +nothing. Miss Sadler retired into her study to read it, and two newspaper +clippings fell out of it under the paper-cutter. This was the note:-- + + "My DEAR MISS SADLER: + + "Mrs. Duncan has referred your note to me, and I enclose two + clippings which speak for themselves. Miss Wetherell, I believe, + stands in the relation of ward to the person to whom they refer, and + her father was a sort of political assistant to this person. + Although, as you say, we are from that part of the country (Miss + Sadler bad spoken of the Duncans as the people of importance there), + it was by the merest accident that Miss Wetherell's connection with + this Jethro Bass was brought to my notice. + + "Sincerely yours, + + "ALEXANDER DUNCAN." + +It is pleasant to know that there were people in the world who could snub +Miss Sadler; and there could be no doubt, from the manner in which she +laid the letter down and took up the clippings, that Miss Sadler felt +snubbed: equally, there could be no doubt that the revenge would fall on +other shoulders than Mr. Duncan's. And when Miss Sadler proceeded to read +the clippings, her hair would have stood on end with horror had it not +been so efficiently plastered down. Miss Sadler seized her pen, and began +a letter to Mrs. Merrill. Miss Sadler's knowledge of the +proprieties--together with other qualifications--had made her school what +it was. No Cynthia Wetherells had ever before entered its sacred portals, +or should again. + +The first of these clippings was the article containing the arraignment +of Jethro Bass which Mr. Merrill had shown to his wife, and which had +been the excuse for Miss Penniman's call. The second was one which Mr. +Duncan had clipped from the Newcastle Guardian of the day before, and +gave, from Mr. Worthington's side, a very graphic account of the conflict +which was to tear the state asunder. The railroads were tired of paying +toll to the chief of a band of thieves and cutthroats, to a man who had +long throttled the state which had nourished him, to--in short,--to +Jethro Bass. Miss Sadler was not much interested in the figures and +metaphors of political compositions. Right had found a champion--the +article continued--in Mr. Isaac D. Worthington of Brampton, president of +the Truro Road and owner of large holdings elsewhere. Mr. Worthington, +backed by other respectable property interests, would fight this monster +of iniquity to the death, and release the state from his thraldom. Jethro +Bass, the article alleged, was already about his abominable work--had +long been so--as in mockery of that very vigilance which is said to be +the price of liberty. His agents were busy in every town of the state, +seeing to it that the slaves of Jethro Bass should be sent to the next +legislature. + +And what was this system which he had built up among these rural +communities? It might aptly be called the System of Mortgages. The +mortgage--dread name for a dreadful thing--was the chief weapon of the +monster. Even as Jethro Bass held the mortgages of Coniston and Tarleton +and round about, so his lieutenants held mortgages in every town and +hamlet of the state, What was a poor farmer to do--? His choice was not +between right and wrong, but between a roof over the heads of his wife +and children and no roof. He must vote for the candidate of Jethro Bass +end corruption or become a homeless wanderer. How the gentleman and his +other respectable backers were to fight the system the article did not +say. Were they to buy up all the mortgages? As a matter of fact, they +intended to buy up enough of these to count, but to mention this would be +to betray the methods of Mr. Worthington's reform. The first bitter +frontier fighting between the advance cohorts of the new giant and the +old--the struggle for the caucuses and the polls--had begun. Miss Sadler +cared but little and understood less of all this matter. She lingered +over the sentences which described Jethro Bass as a monster of iniquity, +as a pariah with whom decent men would have no intercourse, and in the +heat of her passion that one who had touched him had gained admittance to +the most exclusive school for young ladies in the country she wrote a +letter. + +Miss Sadler wrote the letter, and three hours later tore it up and wrote +another and more diplomatic one. Mrs. Merrill, though not by any means of +the same importance as Mrs. Duncan, was not a person to be wantonly +offended, and might--knowing nothing about the monster--in the goodness +of her heart have taken the girl into her house. Had it been otherwise, +surely Mrs. Merrill would not have had the effrontery! She would give +Mrs. Merrill a chance. The bell of release from studies was ringing as +she finished this second letter, and Miss Sadler in her haste forgot to +enclose the clippings. She ran out in time to intercept Susan Merrill at +the door, and to press into her hands the clippings and the note, with a +request to take both to her mother. + +Although the Duncans dined in the evening, the Merrills had dinner at +half-past one in the afternoon, when the girls returned from school. Mr. +Merrill usually came home, but he had gone off somewhere for this +particular day, and Mrs. Merrill had a sewing circle. The girls sat down +to dinner alone. When they got up from the table, Susan suddenly +remembered the note which she had left in her coat pocket. She drew out +the clippings with it. + +"I wonder what Miss Sadler is sending mamma clippings for," she said. +"Why, Cynthia, they're about your uncle. Look!" + +And she handed over the article headed "Jethro Bass." Jane, who had +quicker intuitions than her sister, would have snatched it from Cynthia's +hand, and it was a long time before Susan forgave herself for her folly. +Thus Miss Sadler had her revenge. + +It is often mercifully ordained that the mightiest blows of misfortune +are tempered for us. During the winter evenings in Coniston, Cynthia had +read little newspaper attacks on Jethro, and scorned them as the cowardly +devices of enemies. They had been, indeed, but guarded and covert +allusions--grimaces from a safe distance. Cynthia's first sensation as +she read was anger--anger so intense as to send all the blood in her body +rushing to her head. But what was this? "Right had found a champion at +last" in--in Isaac D. Worthington! That was the first blow, and none but +Cynthia knew the weight of it. It sank but slowly into her consciousness, +and slowly the blood left her face, slowly but surely: left it at length +as white as the lace curtain of the window which she clutched in her +distress. Words which somebody had spoken were ringing in her ears. +Whatever happens! "Whatever happens I will never desert you, never deny +you, as long as I live." This, then, was what he had meant by newspapers, +and why he had come to her! + +The sisters, watching her, cried out in dismay. There was no need to tell +them that they were looking on at a tragedy, and all the love and +sympathy in their hearts went out to her. + +"Cynthia! Cynthia! What is it?" cried Susan, who, thinking she would +faint, seized her in her arms. "What have I done?" + +Cynthia did not faint, being made of sterner substance. Gently, but with +that inexorable instinct of her kind which compels them to look for +reliance within themselves even in the direst of extremities, Cynthia +released herself from Susan's embrace and put a hand to her forehead. + +"Will you leave me here a little while--alone?" she said. + +It was Jane now who drew Susan out and shut the door of the parlor after +them. In utter misery they waited on the stairs while Cynthia fought out +her battle for herself. + +When they were gone she sank down into the big chair under the reading +lamp--the very chair in which he had sat only two nights before. She saw +now with a terrible clearness the thing which for so long had been but a +vague premonition of disaster, and for a while she forgot the clippings. +And when after a space the touch of them in her hand brought them back to +her remembrance, she lacked the courage to read them through. But not for +long. Suddenly her fear of them gave place to a consuming hatred of the +man who had inspired these articles: of Isaac D. Worthington, for she +knew that he must have inspired them. And then she began again to read +them. + +Truth, though it come perverted from the mouth of an enemy, has in itself +a note to which the soul responds, let the mind deny as vehemently as it +will. Cynthia read, and as she read her body was shaken with sobs, though +the tears came not. Could it be true? Could the least particle of the +least of these fearful insinuations be true? Oh, the treason of those +whispers in a voice that was surely not her own, and yet which she could +not hush! Was it possible that such things could be printed about one +whom she had admired and respected above all men--nay, whom she had so +passionately adored from childhood? A monster of iniquity, a pariah! The +cruel, bitter calumny of those names! Cynthia thought of his goodness and +loving kindness and his charity to her and to many others. His charity! +The dreaded voice repeated that word, and sent a thought that struck +terror into her heart: Whence had come the substance of that charity? +Then came another word--mortgage. There it was on the paper, and at sight +of it there leaped out of her memory a golden-green poplar shimmering +against the sky and the distant blue billows of mountains in the west. +She heard the high-pitched voice of a woman speaking the word, and even +then it had had a hateful sound, and she heard herself asking, "Uncle +Jethro, what is a mortgage?" He had struck his horse with the whip. + +Loyal though the girl was, the whispers would not hush, nor the doubts +cease to assail her. What if ever so small a portion of this were true? +Could the whole of this hideous structure, tier resting upon tier, have +been reared without something of a foundation? Fiercely though she told +herself she would believe none of it, fiercely though she hated Mr. +Worthington, fervently though she repeated aloud that her love for Jethro +and her faith in him had not changed, the doubts remained. Yet they +remained unacknowledged. + +An hour passed. It was a thing beyond belief that one hour could have +held such a store of agony. An hour passed, and Cynthia came dry-eyed +from the parlor. Susan and Jane, waiting to give her comfort when she was +recovered a little from this unknown but overwhelming affliction, were +fain to stand mute when they saw her to pay a silent deference to one +whom sorrow had lifted far above them and transfigured. That was the look +on Cynthia's face. She went up the stairs, and they stood in the hall not +knowing what to do, whispering in awe-struck voices. They were still +there when Cynthia came down again, dressed for the street. Jane seized +her by the hand. + +"Where are you going, Cynthia?" she asked. + +"I shall be back by five," said Cynthia. + +She went up the hill, and across to old Louisburg Square, and up the hill +again. The weather had cleared, the violet-paned windows caught the +slanting sunlight and flung it back across the piles of snow. It was a +day for wedding-bells. At last Cynthia came to a queerly fashioned little +green door that seemed all askew with the slanting street, and rang the +bell, and in another moment was standing on the threshold of Miss +Lucretia Penniman's little sitting room. To Miss Lucretia, at her writing +table, one glance was sufficient. She rose quickly to meet the girl, +kissed her unresponsive cheek, and led her to a chair. Miss Lucretia was +never one to beat about the bush, even in the gravest crisis. + +"You have read the articles," she said. + +Read them! During her walk hither Cynthia had been incapable of thought, +but the epithets and arraignments and accusations, the sentences and +paragraphs, wars printed now, upon her brain, never, she believed, to be +effaced. Every step of the way she had been unconsciously repeating them. + +"Have you read them?" asked Cynthia. + +"Yes, my dear." + +"Has everybody read them?" Did the whole world, then, know of her shame? + +"I am glad you came to me, my dear," said Miss Lucretia, taking her hand. +"Have you talked of this to any one else?" + +"No," said Cynthia, simply. + +Miss Lucretia was puzzled. She had not looked for apathy, but she did not +know all of Cynthia's troubles. She wondered whether she had misjudged +the girl, and was misled by her attitude. + +"Cynthia," she said, with a briskness meant to hide emotion for Miss +Lucretia had emotions, "I am a lonely old woman, getting too old, indeed, +to finish the task of my life. I went to see Mrs. Merrill the other day +to ask her if she would let you come and live with me. Will you?" + +Cynthia shook her head. + +"No, Miss Lucretia, I cannot," she answered. + +"I won't press it on you now," said Miss Lucretia. + +"I cannot, Miss Lucretia. I'm going to Coniston." + +"Going to Coniston!" exclaimed Miss Lucretia. + +The name of that place--magic name, once so replete with visions of +happiness and content--seemed to recall Cynthia's spirit from its flight. +Yes, the spirit was there, for it flashed in her eyes as she turned and +looked into Miss Lucretia's face. + +"Are these the articles you read?" she asked; taking the clippings from +her muff. + +Miss Lucretia put on her spectacles. + +"I have seen both of them," she said. + +"And do you believe what they say about--about Jethro Bass?" + +Poor Miss Lucretia! For once in her life she was at a loss. She, too, +paid a deference to that face, young as it was. She had robbed herself of +sleep trying to make up her mind what she would say upon such an occasion +if it came. A wonderful virgin faith had to be shattered, and was she to +be the executioner? She loved the girl with that strange, intense +affection which sometimes comes to the elderly and the lonely, and she +had prayed that this cup might pass from her. Was it possible that it was +her own voice using very much the same words for which she had rebuked +Mrs. Merrill? + +"Cynthia," she said, "those articles were written by politicians, in a +political controversy. No such articles can ever be taken literally." + +"Miss Lucretia, do you believe what it says about Jethro Bass?" repeated +Cynthia. + +How was she to avoid those eyes? They pierced into, her soul, even as her +own had pierced into Mrs. Merrill's. Oh, Miss Lucretia, who pride +yourself on your plain speaking, that you should be caught quibbling! +Miss Lucretia blushed for the first time in many, years, and into her +face came the light of battle. + +"I am a coward, my dear. I deserve your rebuke. To the best of my +knowledge and belief, and so far as I can judge from the inquiries I have +undertaken, Jethro Bass has made his living and gained and held his power +by the methods described in those articles." + +Miss Lucretia took off her spectacles and wiped them. She had committed a +fine act of courage. + +Cynthia stood up. + +"Thank you," she said, "that is what I wanted to know." + +"But--" cried Miss Lucretia, in amazement and apprehension, "but what are +you going to do?" + +"I am going to Coniston," said Cynthia, "to ask him if those things are +true." + +"To ask him!" + +"Yes. If he tells me they are true, then I shall believe them." + +"If he tells you?" Miss Lucretia gasped. Here was a courage of which she +had not reckoned. "Do you think he will tell you?" + +"He will tell me, and I shall believe him, Miss Lucretia." + +"You are a remarkable girl, Cynthia," said Miss Lucretia, involuntarily. +Then she paused for a moment. "Suppose he tells you they are true? You +surely can't live with him again, Cynthia." + +"Do you suppose I am going to desert him, Miss Lucretia?" she asked. "He +loves me, and--and I love him." This was the first time her voice had +faltered. "He kept my father from want and poverty, and he has brought me +up as a daughter. If his life has been as you say, I shall make my own +living!" + +"How?" demanded Miss Lucretia, the practical part of her coming +uppermost. + +"I shall teach school. I believe I can get a position, in a place where I +can see him often. I can break his heart, Miss Lucretia, I--I can bring +sadness to myself, but I will not desert him." + +Miss Lucretia stared at her for a moment, not knowing what to say or do. +She perceived that the girl had a spirit as strong as her own: that her +plans were formed, her mind made up, and that no arguments could change +her. + +"Why did you come to me?" she asked irrelevantly. + +"Because I thought that you would have read the articles, and I knew if +you had, you would have taken the trouble to inform yourself of the +world's opinion." + +Again Miss Lucretia stared at her. + +"I will go to Coniston with you," she said, "at least as far as +Brampton." + +Cynthia's face softened a little at the words. + +"I would rather go alone, Miss Lucretia," she answered gently, but with +the same firmness. "I--I am very grateful to you for your kindness to me +in Boston. I shall not forget it--or you. Good-by, Miss Lucretia." + +But Miss Lucretia, sobbing openly, gathered the girl in her arms and +pressed her. Age was coming on her indeed, that she should show such +weakness. For a long time she could not trust herself to speak, and then +her words were broken. Cynthia must come to her at the first sign of +doubt or trouble: this, Miss Lucretia's house, was to be a refuge in any +storm that life might send--and Miss Lucretia's heart. Cynthia promised, +and when she went out at last through the little door her own tears were +falling, for she loved Miss Lucretia. + +Cynthia was going to Coniston. That journey was as fixed, as inevitable, +as things mortal can be. She would go to Coniston unless she perished on +the way. No loving entreaties, no fears of Mrs. Merrill or her daughters, +were of any avail. Mrs. Merrill too, was awed by the vastness of the +girl's sorrow, and wondered if her own nature were small by comparison. +She had wept, to be sure, at her husband's confession, and lain awake +over it in the night watches, and thought of the early days of their +marriage. + +And then, Mrs. Merrill told herself, Cynthia would have to talk with Mr. +Merrill. How was he to come unscathed out of that? There was pain and +bitterness in that thought, and almost resentment against Cynthia, +quivering though she was with sympathy for the girl. For Mrs. Merrill, +though the canker remained, had already pardoned her husband and had +asked the forgiveness of God for that pardon. On other occasions, in +other crisis, she had waited and watched for him in the parlor window, +and to-night she was at the door before his key was in the lock, while he +was still stamping the snow from his boots. She drew him into the room +and told him what had happened. + +"Oh, Stephen," she cried, "what are you going to say to her?" + +What, indeed? His wife had sorrowed, but she had known the obstacles and +perils by which he had been beset. But what was he to say to Cynthia? Her +very name had grown upon him, middle-aged man of affairs though he was, +until the thought of it summoned up in his mind a figure of purity, and +of the strength which was from purity. He would not have believed it +possible that the country girl whom they had taken into their house three +months before should have wrought such an influence over them all. + +Even in the first hour of her sorrow which she had spent that afternoon +in the parlor, Cynthia had thought of Mr. Merrill. He could tell her +whether those accusations were true or false, for he was a friend of +Jethro's. Her natural impulse--the primeval one of a creature which is +hurt--had been to hide herself; to fly to her own room, and perhaps by +nightfall the courage would come to her to ask him the terrible +questions. He was a friend of Jethro's. An illuminating flash revealed to +her the meaning of that friendship--if the accusations were true. It was +then she had thought of Miss Lucretia Penniman, and somehow she had found +the courage to face the sunlight and go to her. She would spare Mr. +Merrill. + +But had she spared him? Sadly the family sat down to supper without her, +and after supper Mr. Merrill sent a message to his club that he could not +attend a committee meeting there that evening. He sat with his wife in +the little writing room, he pretending to read and she pretending to sew, +until the silence grew too oppressive, and they spoke of the matter that +was in their hearts. It was one of the bitterest evenings in Mr. +Merrill's life, and there is no need to linger on it. They talked +earnestly of Cynthia, and of her future. But they both knew why she did +not come down to them. + +"So she is really going to Coniston," said Mr. Merrill. + +"Yes," answered Mrs. Merrill, "and I think she is doing right, Stephen." + +Mr. Merrill groaned. His wife rose and put her hand on his shoulder. + +"Come, Stephen," she said gently, "you will see her in the morning. + +"I will go to Coniston with her," he said. + +"No," replied Mrs. Merrily "she wants to go alone. And I believe it is +best that she should." + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +Great afflictions generally bring in their train a host of smaller +sorrows, each with its own little pang. One of these sorrows had been the +parting with the Merrill family. Under any circumstance it was not easy +for Cynthia to express her feelings, and now she had found it very +difficult to speak of the gratitude and affection which she felt. But +they understood--dear, good people that they were: no eloquence was +needed with them. The ordeal of breakfast over, and the tearful "God +bless you, Miss Cynthia," of Ellen the parlor-maid, the whole family had +gone with her to the station. For Susan and Jane had spent their last day +at Miss Sadler's school. + +Mr. Merrill had sent for the conductor and bidden him take care of Miss +Wetherell, and recommend her in his name to a conductor on the Truro +Road. The man took off his cap to Mr. Merrill and called him by name and +promised. It was a dark day, and long after the train had pulled out +Cynthia remembered the tearful faces of the family standing on the damp +platform of the station. As they fled northward through the flat +river-meadows, the conductor would have liked to talk to her of Mr. +Merrill; there were few employees on any railroad who did not know the +genial and kindly president of the Grand Gulf and sympathize with his +troubles. But there was a look on the girl's face that forbade intrusion. +Passengers stared at her covertly, as though fascinated by that look, and +some tried to fathom it. But her eyes were firmly fixed upon a point far +beyond their vision. The car stopped many times, and flew on again, but +nothing seemed to break her absorption. + +At last she was aroused by the touch of the conductor on her sleeve. The +people were beginning to file out of the car, and the train was under the +shadow of the snow-covered sheds in the station of the state capital. +Cynthia recognized the place, though it was cold and bare and very +different in appearance from what it had been on the summer's evening +when she had come into it with her father. That, in effect, had been her +first glimpse of the world, and well she recalled the thrill it had given +her. The joy of such things was gone now, the rapture of holidays and new +sights. These were over, so she told herself. Sorrow had quenched the +thrills forever. + +The kind conductor led her to the eating room, and when she would not eat +his concern drew greater than ever. He took a strange interest in this +young lady who had such a face and such eyes. He pointed her out to his +friend the Truro conductor, and gave him some sandwiches and fruit which +he himself had bought, with instructions to press them on her during the +afternoon. + +Cynthia could not eat. She hated this place, with its memories. Hated it, +too, as a mart where men were bought and sold, for the wording of those +articles ran in her head as though some priest of evil were chanting them +in her ears. She did not remember then the sweeter aspect of the old +town, its pretty homes set among their shaded gardens--homes full of good +and kindly people. State House affairs were far removed from most of +these, and the sickness and corruption of the body politic. And this +political corruption, had she known it, was no worse than that of the +other states in the wide Union: not so bad, indeed, as many, though this +was small comfort. No comfort at all to Cynthia, who did not think of it. + +After a while she rose and followed the new conductor to the Truro train, +glad to leave the capital behind her. She was going to the hills--to the +mountains. They, in truth, could not change, though the seasons passed +over them, hot and cold, wet and dry. They were immutable in their +goodness. Presently she saw them, the lower ones: the waters of the +little stream beside her broke the black bonds of ice and raced over the +rapids; the engine was puffing and groaning on the grade. Then the sun +crept out, slowly, from the indefinable margin of vapor that hung massed +over the low country. + +Yes, she had come to the hills. Up and up climbed the train, through the +little white villages in the valley nooks, banked with whiter snow; +through the narrow gorges,--sometimes hanging over them,--under steep +granite walls seared with ice-filled cracks, their brows hung with +icicles. + +Truro Pass is not so high as the Brenner, but it has a grand, wild look +in winter, remote as it is from the haunts of men. A fitting refuge, it +might be, for a great spirit heavy with the sins of the world below. Such +a place might have been chosen, in the olden time, for a monastery--a +gray fastness built against the black forest over the crag looking down +upon the green clumps of spruces against the snow. Some vague longing for +such a refuge was in Cynthia's heart as she gazed upon that silent place, +and then the waters had already begun to run westward--the waters of +Tumble Down brook, which flowed into Coniston Water above Brampton. The +sun still had more than two hours to go on its journey to the hill crests +when the train pulled into Brampton station. There were but a few people +on the platform, but the first face she saw as she stepped from the car +was Lem Hallowell's. It was a very red face, as we know, and its owner +was standing in front of the Coniston stage, on runners now. He stared at +her for an instant, and no wonder, and then he ran forward with +outstretched hands. + +"Cynthy--Cynthy Wetherell!" he cried. "Great Godfrey!" + +He got so far, he seized her hands, and then he stopped, not knowing why. +There were many more ejaculations and welcomes and what not on the end of +his tongue. It was not that she had become a lady--a lady of a type he +had never before seen. He meant to say that, too, in his own way, but he +couldn't. And that transformation would have bothered Lem but little. +What was the change, then? Why was he in awe of her--he, Lem Hallowell, +who had never been in awe of any one? He shook his head, as though openly +confessing his inability to answer that question. He wanted to ask +others, but they would not come. + +"Lem," she said, "I am so glad you are here." + +"Climb right in, Cynthy. I'll get the trunk." There it lay, the little +rawhide one before him on the boards, and he picked it up in his bare +hands as though it had been a paper parcel. It was a peculiarity of the +stage driver that he never wore gloves, even in winter, so remarkable was +the circulation of his blood. After the trunk he deposited, apparently +with equal ease, various barrels and boxes, and then he jumped in beside +Cynthia, and they drove down familiar Brampton Street, as wide as a wide +river; past the meeting-house with the terraced steeple; past the +postoffice,--Cousin Ephraim's postoffice,--where Lem gave her a +questioning look--but she shook her head, and he did not wait for the +distribution of the last mail that day; past the great mansion of Isaac +D. Worthington, where the iron mastiffs on the lawn were up to their +muzzles in snow. After that they took the turn to the right, which was +the road to Coniston. + +Well-remembered road, and in winter or summer, Cynthia knew every tree +and farmhouse beside it. Now it consisted of two deep grooves in the deep +snow; that was all, save for a curving turnout here and there for team to +pass team. Well-remembered scene! How often had Cynthia looked upon it in +happier days! Such a crust was on the snow as would bear a heavy man; and +the pasture hillocks were like glazed cakes in the window of a baker's +shop. Never had the western sky looked so yellow through the black +columns of the pine trunks. A lonely, beautiful road it was that evening. + +For a long time the silence of the great hills was broken only by the +sweet jingle of the bells on the shaft. Many a day, winter and summer, +Lem had gone that road alone, whistling, and never before heeding that +silence. Now it seemed to symbolize a great sorrow: to be in subtle +harmony with that of the girl at his side. What that sorrow was he could +not guess. The good man yearned to comfort her, and yet he felt his +comfort too humble to be noticed by such sorrow. He longed to speak, but +for the first time in his life feared the sound of his own voice. Cynthia +had not spoken since she left the station, had not looked at him, had not +asked for the friends and neighbors whom she had loved so well--had not +asked for Jethro! Was there any sorrow on earth to be felt like that? And +was there one to feel it? + +At length, when they reached the great forest, Lem Hallowell knew that he +must speak or cry aloud. But what would be the sound of his voice--after +such an age of disuse? Could he speak at all? Broken and hoarse and +hideous though the sound might be, he must speak. And hoarse and broken +it was. It was not his own, but still it was a voice. + +"Folks--folks'll be surprised to see you, Cynthy." + +No, he had not spoken at all. Yes, he had, for she answered him. + +"I suppose they will, Lem." + +"Mighty glad to have you back, Cynthy. We think a sight of you. We missed +you." + +"Thank you, Lem." + +"Jethro hain't lookin' for you by any chance, be he? + +"No," she said. But the question startled her. Suppose he had not been at +home! She had never once thought of that. Could she have borne to wait +for him? + +After that Lem gave it up. He had satisfied himself as to his vocal +powers, but he had not the courage even to whistle. The journey to +Coniston was faster in the winter, and at the next turn of the road the +little village came into view. There it was, among the snows. The pain in +Cynthia's heart, so long benumbed, quickened when she saw it. How write +of the sharpness of that pain to those who have never known it? The sight +of every gable brought its agony,--the store with the checker-paned +windows, the harness shop, the meeting-house, the white parsonage on its +little hill. Rias Richardson ran out of the store in his carpet slippers, +bareheaded in the cold, and gave one shout. Lem heeded him not; did not +stop there as usual, but drove straight to the tannery house and pulled +up under the butternut tree. Milly Skinner ran out on the porch, and gave +one long look, and cried:-- + +"Good Lord, it's Cynthy!" + +"Where's Jethro?" demanded Lem. + +Milly did not answer at once. She was staring at Cynthia. + +"He's in the tannery shed," she said, "choppin' wood." But still she kept +her eyes on Cynthia's face. "I'll fetch him." + +"No," said Cynthia, "I'll go to him there." + +She took the path, leaving Millicent with her mouth open, too amazed to +speak again, and yet not knowing why. + +In the tannery shed! Would Jethro remember what happened there almost six +and thirty years before? Would he remember how that other Cynthia had +come to him there, and what her appeal had been? + +Cynthia came to the doors. One of these was open now--both had been +closed that other evening against the storm of sleet--and she caught a +glimpse of him standing on the floor of chips and bark--tan-bark no more. +Cynthia caught a glimpse of him, and love suddenly welled up into her +heart as waters into a spring after a drought. He had not seen her, not +heard the sound of the sleigh-bells. He was standing with his foot upon +the sawbuck and the saw across his knee, he was staring at the woodpile, +and there was stamped upon his face a look which no man or woman had ever +seen there, a look of utter loneliness and desolation, a look as of a +soul condemned to wander forever through the infinite, cold spaces +between the worlds--alone. + +Cynthia stopped at sight of it. What had been her misery and affliction +compared to this? Her limbs refused her, though she knew not whether she +would have fled or rushed into his arms. How long she stood thus, and he +stood, may not be said, but at length he put down his foot and took the +saw from his knee, his eyes fell upon her, and his lips spoke her name. + +"Cynthy!" + +Speechless, she ran to him and flung her arms about his neck, and he +dropped the saw and held her tightly--even as he had held that other +Cynthia in that place in the year gone by. And yet not so. Now he clung +to her with a desperation that was terrible, as though to let go of her +would be to fall into nameless voids beyond human companionship and love. +But at last he did release her, and stood looking down into her face, as +if seeking to read a sentence there. + +And how was she to pronounce that sentence! Though her faith might be +taken away, her love remained, and grew all the greater because he needed +it. Yet she knew that no subterfuge or pretence would avail her to hide +why she had come. She could not hide it. It must be spoken out now, +though death was preferable. + +And he was waiting. Did he guess? She could not tell. He had spoken no +word but her name. He had expressed no surprise at her appearance, asked +no reasons for it. Superlatives of suffering or joy or courage are hard +to convey--words fall so far short of the feeling. And Cynthia's pain was +so far beyond tears. + +"Uncle Jethro," she said, "yesterday something--something happened. I +could not stay in Boston any longer." + +He nodded. + +"I had to come to you. I could not wait." + +He nodded again. + +"I--I read something." To take a white-hot iron and sear herself would +have been easier than this. + +"Yes," he said. + +She felt that the look was coming again--the look which she had surprised +in his face. His hands dropped lifelessly from her shoulders, and he +turned and went to the door, where he stood with his back to her, +silhouetted against the eastern sky all pink from the reflection of +sunset. He would not help her. Perhaps he could not. The things were +true. There had been a grain of hope within her, ready to sprout. + +"I read two articles from the Newcastle Guardian about you--about your +life." + +"Yes," he said. But he did not turn. + +"How you had--how you had earned your living. How you had gained your +power," she went on, her pain lending to her voice an exquisite note of +many modulations. + +"Yes--Cynthy," he said, and still stared at the eastern sky. + +She took two steps toward him, her arms outstretched, her fingers opening +and closing. And then she stopped. + +"I would believe no one," she said, "I will believe no one--until--unless +you tell me. Uncle Jethro," she cried in agony, "Uncle Jethro, tell me +that those things are not true!" + +She waited a space, but he did not stir. There was no sound, save the +song of Coniston Water under the shattered ice. + +"Won't you speak to me?" she whispered. "Won't you tell me that they are +not true?" + +His shoulders shook convulsively. O for the right to turn to her and tell +her that they were lies! He would have bartered his soul for it. What was +all the power in the world compared to this priceless treasure he had +lost? Once before he had cast it away, though without meaning to. Then he +did not know the eternal value of love--of such love as those two women +had given him. Now he knew that it was beyond value, the one precious +gift of life, and the knowledge had come too late. Could he have saved +his life if he had listened to that other Cynthia? + +"Won't you tell me that they are not true?" + +Even then he did not turn to her, but he answered. Curious to relate, +though his heart was breaking, his voice was steady--steady as it always +had been. + +"I--I've seen it comin', Cynthy," he said. "I never knowed anything I was +afraid of before--but I was afraid of this. I knowed what your notions of +right and wrong was--your--your mother had them. They're the principles +of good people. I--I knowed the day would come when you'd ask, but I +wanted to be happy as long as I could. I hain't been happy, Cynthy. But +you was right when you said I'd tell you the truth. S-so I will. I guess +them things which you speak about are true--the way I got where I am, and +the way I made my livin'. They--they hain't put just as they'd ought to +be, perhaps, but that's the way I done it in the main." + +It was thus that Jethro Bass met the supreme crisis of his life. And who +shall say he did not meet it squarely and honestly? Few men of finer +fibre and more delicate morals would have acquitted themselves as well. +That was a Judgment Day for Jethro; and though he knew it not, he spoke +through Cynthia to his Maker, confessing his faults freely and humbly, +and dwelling on the justness of his punishment; putting not forward any +good he may have done; nor thinking of it; nor seeking excuse because of +the light that was in him. Had he been at death's door in the face of +nameless tortures, no man could have dragged such a confession from him. +But a great love had been given him, and to that love he must speak the +truth, even at the cost of losing it. + +But he was not to lose it. Even as he was speaking a thrill of admiration +ran through Cynthia, piercing her sorrow. The superb strength of the man +was there in that simple confession, and it is in the nature of woman to +admire strength. He had fought his fight, and gained, and paid the price +without a murmur, seeking no palliation. Cynthia had not come to that +trial--so bitter for her--as a judge. If the reader has seen youth and +innocence sitting in the seat of justice, with age and experience at the +bar, he has mistaken Cynthia. She came to Coniston inexorable, it is +true, because hers was a nature impelled to do right though it perish. +She did not presume to say what Jethro's lights and opportunities might +have been. Her own she knew, and by them she must act accordingly. + +When he had finished speaking, she stole silently to his side and slipped +her hand in his. He trembled violently at her touch. + +"Uncle Jethro," she said in a low tone, "I love you." + +At the words he trembled more violently still. + +"No, no, Cynthy," he answered thickly, "don't say that--I--I don't expect +it, Cynthy, I know you can't--'twouldn't be right, Cynthy. I hain't fit +for it." + +"Uncle Jethro," she said, "I love you better than I have ever loved you +in my life." + +Oh, how welcome were the tears! and how human! He turned, pitifully +incredulous, wondering that she should seek by deceit to soften the blow; +he saw them running down her cheeks, and he believed. Yes, he believed, +though it seemed a thing beyond belief. Unworthy, unfit though he were, +she loved him. And his own love as he gazed at her, sevenfold increased +as it had been by the knowledge of losing her, changed in texture from +homage to worship--nay, to adoration. His punishment would still be +heavy; but whence had come such a wondrous gift to mitigate it? + +"Oh, don't you believe me?" she cried, "can't you see that it is true?" + +And yet he could only hold her there at arm's length with that new and +strange reverence in his face. He was not worthy to touch her, but still +she loved him. + +The flush had faded from the eastern sky, and the faintest border of +yellow light betrayed the ragged outlines of the mountain as they walked +together to the tannery house. + +Millicent, in the kitchen, was making great preparations--for Millicent. +Miss Skinner was a person who had hitherto laid it down as a principle of +life to pay deference or do honor to no human made of mere dust, like +herself. Millicent's exception; if Cynthia had thought about it, was a +tribute of no mean order. Cynthia, alas, did not think about it: she did +not know that, in her absence, the fire had not been lighted in the +evening, Jethro supping on crackers and milk and Milly partaking of the +evening meal at home. Moreover, Miss Skinner had an engagement with a +young man. Cynthia saw the fire, and threw off her sealskin coat which +Mr. and Mrs. Merrill had given her for Christmas, and took down the +saucepan from the familiar nail on which it hung. It was a miraculous +fact, for which she did not attempt to account, that she was almost +happy: happy, indeed, in comparison to that which had been her state +since the afternoon before. Millicent snatched the saucepan angrily from +her hand. + +"What be you doin', Cynthy?" she demanded. + +Such was Miss Skinner's little way of showing deference. Though deference +is not usually vehement, Miss Skinner's was very real, nevertheless. + +"Why, Milly, what's the matter?" exclaimed Cynthia, in astonishment. + +"You hain't a-goin' to do any cookin', that's all," said Milly, very red +in the face. + +"But I've always helped," said Cynthia. "Why not?" + +Why not? A tribute was one thing, but to have to put the reasons for that +tribute, into words was quite another. + +"Why not?" cried Milly, "because you hain't a-goin' to, that's all." + +Strange deference! But Cynthia turned and looked at the girl with a +little, sad smile of comprehension and affection. She took her by the +shoulders and kissed her. + +Whereupon a most amazing thing happened--Millicent burst into +tears--wild, ungovernable tears they were. + +"Because you hain't a-goin' to," she repeated, her words interspersed +with violent sobs. "You go 'way, Cynthy," she cried, "git out!" + +"Milly," said Cynthia, shaking her head, "you ought to be ashamed of +yourself." But they were not words of reproof. She took a little lamp +from the shelf, and went up the narrow stairs to her own room in the +gable, where Lemuel had deposited the rawhide trunk. + +Though she had had nothing all day, she felt no hunger, but for Milly's +sake she tried hard to eat the supper when it came. Before it had fairly +begun Moses Hatch had arrived, with Amandy and Eben; and Rias Richardson +came in, and other neighbors, to say a word of welcome to hear (if the +truth be not too disparaging to their characters) the reasons for her +sudden appearance, and such news of her Boston experiences as she might +choose to give them. They had learned from Lem Hallowell that Cynthia had +returned a lady: a real lady, not a sham one who relied on airs and +graces, such as had come to Coniston the summer before to look for a +summer place on the painter's recommendation. Lem was not a gossip, in +the disagreeable sense of the term, and he had not said a word to his +neighbors of his feelings on that terrible drive from Brampton. Knowing +that some blow had fallen upon Cynthia, he would have spared her these +visits if he could. But Lem was wise and kind, so he merely said that she +had returned a lady. + +And they had found a lady. As they stood or sat around the kitchen (Eben +and Rias stood), Cynthia talked to them--about Coniston: rather, be it +said, that they talked about Coniston in answer to her questions. The +sledding had been good; Moses had hauled so many thousand feet of lumber +to Brampton; Sam Price's woman (she of Harwich) had had a spell of +sciatica; Chester Perkins's bull had tossed his brother-in-law, come from +Iowy on a visit, and broke his leg; yes, Amandy guessed her dyspepsy was +somewhat improved since she had tried Graham's Golden Remedy--it made her +feel real lighthearted; Eben (blushing furiously) was to have the Brook +Farm in the spring; there was a case of spotted fever in Tarleton. + +Yes, Lem Hallowell had been right, Cynthia was a lady, but not a mite +stuck up. What was the difference in her? Not her clothes, which she wore +as if she had been used to them all her life. Poor Cynthia, the clothes +were simple enough. Not her manner, which was as kind and sweet as ever. +What was it that compelled their talk about themselves, that made them +refrain from asking those questions about Boston, and why she had come +back? Some such query was running in their minds as they talked, while +Jethro, having finished his milk and crackers, sat silent at the end of +the table with his eyes upon her. He rose when Mr. Satterlee came in. + +Mr. Satterlee looked at her, and then he went quietly across the room and +kissed her. But then Mr. Satterlee was the minister. Cynthia thought his +hair a little thinner and the lines in his face a little deeper. And Mr. +Satterlee thought perhaps he was the only one of the visitors who guessed +why she had come back. He laid his thin hand on her head, as though in +benediction, and sat down beside her. + +"And how is the learning, Cynthia?" he asked. + +Now, indeed, they were going to hear something at last. An intuition +impelled Cynthia to take advantage of that opportunity. + +"The learning has become so great, Mr. Satterlee," she said, "that I have +come back to try to make some use of it. It shall be wasted no more." + +She did not dare to look at Jethro, but she was aware that he had sat +down abruptly. What sacrifice will not a good woman make to ease the +burden of those whom she loves! And Jethro's burden would be heavy +enough. Such a woman will speak almost gayly, though her heart be heavy. +But Cynthia's was lighter now than it had been. + +"I was always sure you would not waste your learning, Cynthia," said Mr. +Satterlee, gravely; "that you would make the most of the advantages God +has given you." + +"I am going to try, Mr. Satterlee. I cannot be content in idleness. I was +wasting time in Boston, and I--I was not happy so far away from you +all--from Uncle Jethro. Mr. Satterlee, I am going to teach school. I have +always wanted to, and now I have made up my mind to do it." + +This was Jethro's punishment. But had she not lightened it for him a +little by choosing this way of telling him that she could not eat his +bread or partake of his bounty? Though by reason of that bounty she was +what she was, she could not live and thrive on it longer, coming as it +did from such a source. Mr. Satterlee might perhaps surmise the truth, +but the town and village would think her ambition a very natural one, +certainly no better time could have been chosen to announce it. + +"To teach school." She was sure now that Mr. Satterlee knew and approved, +and perceived something, at least, of her little ruse. He was a man whose +talents fitted him for a larger flock than he had at Coniston, but he +possessed neither the graces demanded of city ministers nor the power of +pushing himself. Never was a more retiring man. The years she had spent +in his study had not gone for nothing, for he who has cherished the bud +can predict what the flower will be, and Mr. Satterlee knew her +spiritually better than any one else in Coniston. He had heard of her +return, and had walked over to the tannery house, full of fears, the +remembrance of those expressions of simple faith in Jethro coming back to +his mind. Had the revelation which he had so long expected come at last? +and how had she taken it? would it embitter her? The good man believed +that it would not, and now he saw that it had not, and rejoiced +accordingly. + +"To teach school," he said. "I expected that you would wish to, Cynthia. +It is a desire that most of us have, who like books and what is in them. +I should have taught school if I had not become a minister. It is a high +calling, and an absorbing one, to develop the minds of the young." Mr. +Satterlee was often a little discursive, though there was reason for it +on this occasion, and Moses Hatch half closed his eyes and bowed his head +a little out of sheer habit at the sound of the minister's voice. But he +raised it suddenly at the next words. "I was in Brampton yesterday, and +saw Mr. Graves, who is on the prudential committee of that district. You +may not have heard that Miss Goddard has left. They have not yet +succeeded in filling her place, and I think it more than likely that you +can get it." + +Cynthia glanced at Jethro, but the habit of years was so strong in him +that he gave no sign. + +"Do you think so, Mr. Satterlee?" she said gratefully. "I had heard of +the place, and hoped for it, because it is near enough for me to spend +the Saturdays and Sundays with Uncle Jethro. And I meant to go to +Brampton tomorrow to see about it." + +"I will go with you," said the minister; "I have business in Brampton +to-morrow." He did not mention that this was the business. + +When at length they had all departed, Jethro rose and went about the +house making fast the doors, as was his custom, while Cynthia sat staring +through the bars at the dying embers in the stove. He knew now, and it +was inevitable that he should know, what she had made up her mind to do. +It had been decreed that she, who owed him everything, should be made to +pass this most dreadful of censures upon his whole life. Oh, the cruelty +of that decree! + +How, she mused, would it affect him? Had the blow been so great that he +would relinquish those practices which had become a lifelong habit with +him? Would he (she caught her breath at this thought) would he abandon +that struggle with Isaac D. Worthington in which he was striving to +maintain the mastery of the state by those very practices? Cynthia hated +Mr. Worthington. The term is not too strong, and it expresses her +feeling. But she would have got down on her knees on the board floor of +the kitchen that very night and implored Jethro to desist from that +contest, if she could. She remembered how, in her innocence, she had +believed that the people had given Jethro his power,--in those days when +she was so proud of that very power,--now she knew that he had wrested it +from them. What more supreme sacrifice could he make than to relinquish +it! Ah, there was a still greater sacrifice that Jethro was to make, had +she known it. + +He came and stood over her by the stove, and she looked up into his face +with these yearnings in her eyes. Yes, she would have thrown herself on +her knees, if she could. But she could not. Perhaps he would abandon that +struggle. Perhaps--perhaps his heart was broken. And could a man with a +broken heart still fight on? She took his hand and pressed it against her +face, and he felt that it was wet with her tears. + +"B-better go to bed now, Cynthy," he said; "m-must be worn out--m-must be +worn out." + +He stooped and kissed her on the forehead. It was thus that Jethro Bass +accepted his sentence. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +At sunrise, in that Coniston hill-country, it is the western hills which +are red; and a distant hillock on the meadow farm which was soon to be +Eden's looked like the daintiest conical cake with pink icing as Cynthia +surveyed the familiar view the next morning. There was the mountain, the +pastures on the lower slopes all red, too, and higher up the dark masses +of bristling spruce and pine and hemlock mottled with white where the +snow-covered rocks showed through. + +Sunrise in January is not very early, and sunrise at any season is not +early for Coniston. Cynthia sat at her window, and wondered whether that +beautiful landscape would any longer be hers. Her life had grown up on +it; but now her life had changed. Would the beauty be taken from it, too? +Almost hungrily she gazed at the scene. She might look upon it +again--many times, perhaps--but a conviction was strong in her that its +daily possession would now be only a memory. + +Mr. Satterlee was as good as his word, for he was seated in the stage +when it drew up at the tannery house, ready to go to Brampton. And as +they drove away Cynthia took one last look at Jethro standing on the +porch. It seemed to her that it had been given her to feel all things, +and to know all things: to know, especially, this strange man, Jethro +Bass, as none other knew him, and to love him as none other loved him. +The last severe wrench was come, and she had left him standing there +alone in the cold, divining what was in his heart as though it were in +her own. How worthless was this mighty power which he had gained, how +hateful, when he could not bestow the smallest fragment of it upon one +whom he loved? Someone has described hell as disqualification in the face +of opportunity. Such was Jethro's torment that morning as he saw her +drive away, the minister in the place where he should have been, at her +side, and he, Jethro Bass, as helpless as though he had indeed been in +the pit among the flames. Had the prudential committee at Brampton +promised the appointment ten times over, he might still have obtained it +for her by a word. And he must not speak even that word. Who shall say +that a large part of the punishment of Jethro Bass did not come to him in +the life upon this earth. + +Some such thoughts were running in Cynthia's head as they jingled away to +Brampton that dazzling morning. Perhaps the stage driver, too, who knew +something of men and things and who meddled not at all, had made a guess +at the situation. He thought that Cynthia's spirits seemed lightened a +little, and he meant to lighten them more; so he joked as much as his +respect for his passengers would permit, and told the news of Brampton. +Not the least of the news concerned the first citizen of that place. +There was a certain railroad in the West which had got itself much into +Congress, and much into the newspapers, and Isaac D. Worthington had got +himself into that railroad: was gone West, it was said on that business, +and might not be back for many weeks. And Lem Hallowell remembered when +Mr. Worthington was a slim-cheated young man wandering up and down +Coniston Water in search of health. Good Mr. Satterlee, thinking this a +safe subject, allowed himself to be led into a discussion of the first +citizen's career, which indeed had something fascinating in it. + +Thus they jingled into Brampton Street and stopped before the cottage of +Judge Graves--a courtesy title. The judge himself came to the door and +bestowed a pronounced bow on the minister, for Mr. Satterlee was honored +in Brampton. Just think of what Ezra Graves might have looked like, and +you have him. He greeted Cynthia, too, with a warm welcome--for Ezra +Graves,--and ushered them into a best parlor which was reserved for +ministers and funerals and great occasions in general, and actually +raised the blinds. Then Mr. Satterlee, with much hemming and hawing, +stated the business which had brought them, while Cynthia looked out of +the window. + +Mr. Graves sat and twirled his lean thumbs. He went so far as to say that +he admired a young woman who scorned to live in idleness, who wished to +impart the learning with which she had been endowed. Fifteen applicants +were under consideration for the position, and the prudential committee +had so far been unable to declare that any of them were completely +qualified. (It was well named, that prudential committee?) Mr. Graves, +furthermore, volunteered that he had expressed a wish to Colonel Prescott +(Oh, Ephraim, you too have got a title with your new honors!), to Colonel +Prescott and others, that Miss Wetherell might take the place. The middle +term opened on the morrow, and Miss Bruce, of the Worthington Free +Library, had been induced to teach until a successor could be appointed, +although it was most inconvenient for Miss Bruce. + +Could Miss Wetherell start in at once, provided the committee agreed? +Cynthia replied that she would like nothing better. There would be an +examination before Mr. Errol, the Brampton Superintendent of Schools. In +short, owing to the pressing nature of the occasion, the judge would take +the liberty of calling the committee together immediately. Would Mr. +Satterlee and Miss Wetherell make themselves at home in the parlor? + +It very frequently happens that one member of a committee is the brain, +and the other members form the body of it. It was so in this case. Ezra +Graves typified all of prudence there was about it, which, it must be +admitted, was a great deal. He it was who had weighed in the balance the +fifteen applicants and found them wanting. Another member of the +committee was that comfortable Mr. Dodd, with the tuft of yellow beard, +the hardware dealer whom we have seen at the baseball game. Mr. Dodd was +not a person who had opinions unless they were presented to him from +certain sources, and then he had been known to cling to them tenaciously. +It is sufficient to add that, when Cynthia Wetherell's name was mentioned +to him, he remembered the girl to whom Bob Worthington had paid such +marked attentions on the grand stand. He knew literally nothing else +about Cynthia. Judge Graves, apparently, knew all about her; this was +sufficient, at that time, for Mr. Dodd; he was sick and tired of the +whole affair, and if, by the grace of heaven, an applicant had been sent +who conformed with Judge Graves's multitude of requirements, he was +devoutly thankful. The other member, Mr. Hill, was a feed and lumber +dealer, and not a very good one, for he was always in difficulties; +certain scholarly attainments were attributed to him, and therefore he +had been put on the committee. They met in Mr. Dodd's little office back +of the store, and in five minutes Cynthia was a schoolmistress, subject +to examination by Mr. Errol. + +Just a word about Mr. Errol. He was a retired lawyer, with some means, +who took an interest in town affairs to occupy his time. He had a very +delicate wife, whom he had been obliged to send South at the beginning of +the winter. There she had for a while improved, but had been taken ill +again, and two days before Cynthia's appointment he had been summoned to +her bedside by a telegram. Cynthia could go into the school, and her +examination would take place when Mr. Errol returned. + +All this was explained by the judge when, half an hour after he had left +them, he returned to the best parlor. Miss Wetherell would, then, be +prepared to take the school the following morning. Whereupon the judge +shook hands with her, and did not deny that he had been instrumental in +the matter. + +"And, Mr. Satterlee, I am so grateful to you," said Cynthia, when they +were in the street once more. + +"My dear Cynthia, I did nothing," answered the minister, quite bewildered +by the quick turn affairs had taken; "it is your own good reputation that +got you the place." + +Nevertheless Mr. Satterlee had done his share in the matter. He had known +Mr. Graves for a long time, and better than any other person in Brampton. +Mr. Graves remembered Cynthia Ware, and indeed had spoken to Cynthia that +day about her mother. Mr. Graves had also read poor William Wetherell's +contributions to the Newcastle Guardian, and he had not read that paper +since they had ceased. From time to time Mr. Satterlee had mentioned his +pupil to the judge, whose mind had immediately flown to her when the +vacancy occurred. So it all came about. + +"And now," said Mr. Satterlee, "what will you do, Cynthia? We've got the +good part of a day to arrange where you will live, before the stage +returns." + +"I won't go back to-night, I think," said Cynthia, turning her head away; +"if you would be good enough to tell Uncle Jethro to send my trunk and +some other things." + +"Perhaps that is just as well," assented the minister, understanding +perfectly. "I have thought that Miss Bruce might be glad to board you," +he continued, after a pause. "Let us go to see her." + +"Mr. Satterlee," said Cynthia, "would you mind if we went first to see +Cousin Ephraim?" + +"Why, of course, we must see Ephraim," said Mr. Satterlee, briskly. So +they walked on past the mansion of the first citizen, and the new block +of stores which the first citizen had built, to the old brick building +which held the Brampton post-office, and right through the door of the +partition into the sanctum of the postmaster himself, which some one had +nicknamed the Brampton Club. On this occasion the postmaster was seated +in his shirt sleeves by the stove, alone, his listeners being +conspicuously absent. Cynthia, who had caught a glimpse of him through +the little mail-window, thought he looked very happy and comfortable. + +"Great Tecumseh!" he cried,--an exclamation he reserved for extraordinary +occasions, "if it hain't Cynthy!" + +He started to hobble toward her, but Cynthia ran to him. + +"Why," said he, looking at her closely after the greeting was over, "you +be changed, Cynthy. Mercy, I don't know as I'd have dared done that if +I'd seed you first. What have you b'en doin' to yourself? You must have +seed a whole lot down there in Boston. And you're a full-blown lady, +too." + +"Oh, no, I'm not, Cousin Eph," she answered, trying to smile. + +"Yes, you be," he insisted, still scrutinizing her, vainly trying to +account for the change. Tact, as we know, was not Ephraim's strong point. +Now he shook his head. "You always was beyond me. Got a sort of air about +you, and it grows on you, too. Wouldn't be surprised," he declared, +speaking now to the minister, "wouldn't be a mite surprised to see her in +the White House, some day." + +"Now, Cousin Eph," said Cynthia, coloring a little, "you mustn't talk +nonsense. What have you done with your coat? You have no business to go +without it with your rheumatism." + +"It hain't b'en so bad since Uncle Sam took me over again, Cynthy," he +answered, "with nothin' to do but sort letters in a nice hot room." The +room was hot, indeed. "But where did you come from?" + +"I grew tired of being taught, Cousin Eph. I--I've always wanted to +teach. Mr. Satterlee has been with me to see Mr. Graves, and they've +given me Miss Goddard's place. I'm coming to Brampton to live, to-day." + +"Great Tecumseh!" exclaimed Ephraim again, overpowered by the yews. "I +want to know! What does Jethro say to that?" + +"He--he is willing," she replied in a low voice. + +"Well," said Ephraim, "I always thought you'd come to it. It's in the +blood, I guess--teachin'. Your mother had it too. I'm kind of sorry for +Jethro, though, so I be. But I'm glad for myself, Cynthy. So you're +comin' to Brampton to live with me! + +"I was going to ask Miss Bruce to take me in," said Cynthia. + +"No you hain't, anything of the kind," said Ephraim, indignantly. "I've +got a little house up the street, and a room all ready for you." + +"Will you let me share expenses, Cousin Eph?" + +"I'll let you do anything you want," said he, "so's you come. Don't you +think she'd ought to come and take care of an old man, Mr. Satterlee?" + +Mr. Satterlee turned. He had been contemplating, during this +conversation, a life-size print of General Grant under two crossed flags, +that was hung conspicuously on the wall. + +"I do not think you could do better, Cynthia," he answered, smiling. The +minister liked Ephraim, and he liked a little joke, occasionally. He felt +that one would not be, particularly out of place just now; so he +repeated, "I do not think you could do better than to accept the offer of +Colonel Prescott." + +Ephraim grew very red, as was his wont when twitted about his new title. +He took things literally. + +"I hain't a colonel, no more than you be, Mr. Satterlee. But the boys +down here will have it so." + +Three days later, by the early train which leaves the state capital at an +unheard-of hour in the morning, a young man arrived in Brampton. His jaw +seemed squarer than ever to the citizens who met the train out of +curiosity, and to Mr. Dodd, who was expecting a pump; and there was a set +look on his face like that of a man who is going into a race or a fight. +Mr. Dodd, though astonished, hastened toward him. + +"Well, this is unexpected, Bob," said he. "How be you? Harvard College +failed up?" + +For Mr. Dodd never let slip a chance to assure a member of the +Worthington family of his continued friendship. + +"How are you, Mr. Dodd?" answered Bob, nodding at him carelessly, and +passing on. Mr. Dodd did not dare to follow. What was young Worthington +doing in Brampton, and his father in the West on that railroad business? +Filled with curiosity, Mr. Dodd forgot his pump, but Bob was already +striding into Brampton Street, carrying his bag. If he had stopped for a +few moments with the hardware dealer, or chatted with any of the dozen +people who bowed and stared at him, he might have saved himself a good +deal of trouble. He turned in at the Worthington mansion, and rang the +bell, which was answered by Sarah, the housemaid. + +"Mr. Bob!" she exclaimed. + +"Where's Mrs. Holden?" he asked. + +Mrs. Holden was the elderly housekeeper. She had gone, unfortunately, to +visit a bereaved relative; unfortunately for Bob, because she, too, might +have told him something. + +"Get me some breakfast, Sarah. Anything," he commanded, "and tell Silas +to hitch up the black trotters to my cutter." + +Sarah, though in consternation, did as she was bid. The breakfast was +forthcoming, and in half an hour Silas had the black trotters at the +door. Bob got in without a word, seized the reins, the cutter flew down +Brampton Street (observed by many of the residents thereof) and turned +into the Coniston road. Silas said nothing. Silas, as a matter of fact, +never did say anything. He had been the Worthington coachman for five and +twenty years, and he was known in Brampton as Silas the Silent. Young Mr. +Worthington had no desire to talk that morning. + +The black trotters covered the ten miles in much quicker time than Lem +Hallowell could do it in his stage, but the distance seemed endless to +Bob. It was not much more than half an hour after he had left Brampton +Street, however, that he shot past the store, and by the time Rias +Richardson in his carpet slippers reached the platform the cutter was in +front of the tannery house, and the trotters, with their sides smoking, +were pawing up the snow under the butternut tree. + +Bob leaped out, hurried up the path, and knocked at the door. It was +opened by Jethro Bass himself! + +"How do you do, Mr. Bass," said the young man, gravely, and he held out +his hand. Jethro gave him such a scrutinizing look as he had given many a +man whose business he cared to guess, but Bob looked fearlessly into his +eyes. Jethro took his hand. + +"C-come in," he said. + +Bob went into that little room where Jethro and Cynthia had spent so many +nights together, and his glance flew straight to the picture on the +wall,--the portrait of Cynthia Wetherell in crimson and seed pearls, so +strangely set amidst such surroundings. His glance went to the portrait, +and his feet followed, as to a lodestone. He stood in front of it for +many minutes, in silence, and Jethro watched him. At last he turned. + +"Where is she?" he asked. + +It was a queer question, and Jethro's answer was quite as lacking in +convention. + +"G-gone to Brampton--gone to Brampton." + +"Gone to Brampton! Do you mean to say--? What is she doing there?" Bob +demanded. + +"Teachin' school," said Jethro; "g-got Miss Goddard's place." + +Bob did not reply for a moment. The little schoolhouse was the only +building in Brampton he had glanced at as he came through. Mrs. Merrill +had told him that she might take that place, but he had little imagined +she was already there on her platform facing the rows of shining little +faces at the desks. He had deemed it more than possible that he might see +Jethro at Coniston, but he had not taken into account that which he might +say to him. Bob had, indeed, thought of nothing but Cynthia, and of the +blow that had fallen upon her. He had tried to realize the, multiple +phases of the situation which confronted him. Here was the man who, by +the conduct of his life, had caused the blow; he, too, was her +benefactor; and again, this same man was engaged in the bitterest of +conflicts with his father, Isaac D. Worthington, and it was this conflict +which had precipitated that blow. Bob could not have guessed, by looking +at Jethro Bass, how great was the sorrow which had fallen upon him. But +Bob knew that Jethro hated his father, must hate him now, because of +Cynthia, with a hatred given to few men to feel. He thought that Jethro +would crush Mr. Worthington and ruin him if he could; and Bob believed he +could. + +What was he to say? He did not fear Jethro, for Bob Worthington had +courage enough; but these things were running in his mind, and he felt +the power of the man before him, as all men did. Bob went to the window +and came back again. He knew that he must speak. + +"Mr. Bass," he said at last, "did Cynthia ever mention me to you?" + +"No," said Jethro. + +"Mr. Bass, I love her. I have told her so, and I have asked her to be my +wife." + +There was no need, indeed, to have told Jethro this. The shock of that +revelation had come to him when he had seen the trotters, had been +confirmed when the young man had stood before the portrait. Jethro's face +might have twitched when Bob stood there with his back to him. + +Jethro could not speak. Once more there had come to him a moment when he +would not trust his voice to ask a question. He dreaded the answer, +though none might have surmised this. He knew Cynthia. He knew that, when +she had given her heart, it was for all time. He dreaded the answer; +because it might mean that her sorrow was doubled. + +"I believe," Bob continued painfully, seeing that Jethro would say +nothing, "I believe that Cynthia loves me. I should not dare to say it or +to hope it, without reason. She has not said so, but--" the words were +very hard for him, yet he stuck manfully to the truth; "but she told me +to write to my father and let him know what I had done, and not to come +back to her until I had his answer. This," he added, wondering that a man +could listen to such a thing without a sign, "this was before--before she +had any idea of coming home." + +Yes, Cynthia, did love him. There was no doubt about it in Jethro's mind. +She would not have bade Bob write to his father if she had not loved him. +Still Jethro did not speak, but by some intangible force compelled Bob to +go on. + +"I shall write to my father as soon as he comes back from the West, but I +wish to say to you, Mr. Bass, that whatever his answer contains, I mean +to marry Cynthia. Nothing can shake me from that resolution. I tell you +this because my father is fighting you, and you know what he will say." +(Jethro knew Dudley Worthington well enough to appreciate that this would +make no particular difference in his opposition to the marriage except to +make that opposition more vehement.) "And because you do not know me," +continued Bob. "When I say a thing, I mean it. Even if my father cuts me +off and casts me out, I will marry Cynthia. Good-by, Mr. Bass." + +Jethro took the young man's hand again. Bob imagined that he even pressed +it--a little--something he had never done before. + +"Good-by, Bob." + +Bob got as far as the door. + +"Er--go back to Harvard, Bob?" + +"I intend to, Mr. Bass." + +"Er--Bob?" + +"Yes?" + +"D-don't quarrel with your father--don't quarrel with your father." + +"I shan't be the one to quarrel, Mr. Bass." + +"Bob--hain't you pretty young--pretty young?" + +"Yes," said Bob, rather unexpectedly, "I am." Then he added, "I know my +own mind." + +"P-pretty young. Don't want to get married yet awhile--do you?" + +"Yes, I do," said Bob, "but I suppose I shan't be able to." + +"Er--wait awhile, Bob. Go back to Harvard. W-wouldn't write that letter +if I was you." + +"But I will. I'll not have him think I'm ashamed of what I've done. I'm +proud of it, Mr. Bass." + +In the eyes of Coniston, which had been waiting for his reappearance, Bob +Worthington jumped into the sleigh and drove off. He left behind him +Jethro Bass, who sat in his chair the rest of the morning with his head +bent in revery so deep that Millicent had to call him twice to his simple +dinner. Bob left behind him, too, a score of rumors, sprung full grown +into life with his visit. Men and women an incredible distance away heard +them in an incredible time: those in the village found an immediate +pretext for leaving their legitimate occupation and going to the store, +and a gathering was in session there when young Mr. Worthington drove +past it on his way back. Bob thought little about the rumors, and not +thinking of them it did not occur to him that they might affect Cynthia. +The only person then in Coniston whom he thought about was Jethro Bass. +Bob decided that his liking for Jethro had not diminished, but rather +increased; he admired Jethro for the advice he had given, although he did +not mean to take it. And for the first time he pitied him. + +Bob did not know that rumor, too, was spreading in Brampton. He had his +dinner in the big walnut dining room all alone, and after it he smoked +his father's cigars and paced up and down the big hall, watching the +clock. For he could not go to her in the school hours. At length he put +on his hat and hurried out, crossing the park-like enclosure in the +middle of the street; bowed at by Mr. Dodd, who always seemed to be on +hand, and others, and nodding absently in return. Concealment was not in +Bob Worthington's nature. He reached the post-office, where the partition +door was open, and he walked right into a comparatively full meeting of +the Brampton Club. Ephraim sat in their midst, and for once he was not +telling war stories. He was silent. And the others fell suddenly silent, +too, at Bob's entrance. + +"How do you do, Mr. Prescott?" he said, as Ephraim struggled to his feet. +"How is the rheumatism?" + +"How be you, Mr. Worthington?" said Ephraim; "this is a kind of a +surprise, hain't it?" Ephraim was getting used to surprises. "Well, it is +good-natured of you to come in and shake hands with an old soldier." + +"Don't mention it, Mr. Prescott," answered honest Bob, a little abashed, +"I should have done so anyway, but the fact is, I wanted to speak to you +a moment in private." + +"Certain," said Ephraim, glancing helplessly around him, "jest come out +front." That space, where the public were supposed to be, was the only +private place in the Brampton post-office. But the members of the +Brampton Club could take a hint, and with one consent began to make +excuses. Bob knew them all from boyhood and spoke to them all. Some of +them ventured to ask him if Harvard had bust up. + +"Where does Cynthia-live?" he demanded, coming straight to the point. + +Ephraim stared at him for a moment in a bewildered fashion, and then a +light began to dawn on him. + +"Lives with me," he answered. He was quite as ashamed, for Bob's sake, as +if he himself had asked the question, and he went on talking to cover +that embarrassment. "It's made some difference, too, sence she come. +House looks like a different place. Afore she, come I cooked with a kit, +same as I used to in the harness shop. I l'arned it in the army. Cynthy's +got a stove." + +It was not the way Ephraim would have gone about a love affair, had he +had one. Sam Price's were the approved methods in that section of the +country, though Sam had overdone them somewhat. It was an unheard-of +thing to ask a man right out like that where a girl lived. + +"Much obliged," said Bob, and was gone. Ephraim raised his hands in +despair, and hobbled to the little window to get a last look at him. +Where were the proprieties in these days? The other aspect of the affair, +what Mr. Worthington would think of it when he returned, did not occur to +the innocent mind of the old soldier until people began to talk about it +that afternoon. Then it worried him into another attack of rheumatism. + +Half of Brampton must have seen Bob Worthington march up to the little +yellow house which Ephraim had rented from John Billings. It had four +rooms around the big chimney in the middle, and that was all. Simple as +it was, an architect would have said that its proportions were nearly +perfect. John Billings had it from his Grandfather Post, who built it, +and though Brampton would have laughed at the statement, Isaac D. +Worthington's mansion was not to be compared with it for beauty. The old +cherry furniture was still in it, and the old wall papers and the +panelling in the little room to the right which Cynthia had made into a +sitting room. + +Half of Brampton, too, must have seen Cynthia open the door and Bob walk +into the entry. Then the door was shut. But it had been held open for an +appreciable time, however,--while you could count twenty,--because +Cynthia had not the power to close it. For a while she could only look +into his eyes, and he into hers. She had not seen him coming, she had but +answered the knock. Then, slowly, the color came into her cheeks, and she +knew that she was trembling from head to foot. + +"Cynthia," he said, "mayn't I come in?" + +She did not answer, for fear her voice would tremble, too. And she could +not send him away in the face of all Brampton. She opened the door a +little wider, a very little, and he went in. Then she closed it, and for +a moment they stood facing each other in the entry, which was lighted +only by the fan-light over the door, Cynthia with her back against the +wall. He spoke her name again, his voice thick with the passion which had +overtaken him like a flood at the sight of her--a passion to seize her in +his arms, and cherish and comfort and protect her forever and ever. All +this he felt and more as he looked into her face and saw the traces of +her great sorrow there. He had not thought that that face could be more +beautiful in its strength and purity, but it was even so. + +"Cynthia-my love!" he cried, and raised his arms. But a look as of a +great fear came into her eyes, which for one exquisite moment had yielded +to his own; and her breath came quickly, as though she were spent--as +indeed she was. So far spent that the wall at her back was grateful. + +"No!" she said; "no--you must not--you must not--you must not!" Again and +again she repeated the words, for she could summon no others. They were a +mandate--had he guessed it--to herself as to him. For the time her brain +refused its functions, and she could think of nothing but the fact that +he was there, beside her, ready to take her in his arms. How she longed +to fly into them, none but herself knew--to fly into them as into a +refuge secure against the evil powers of the world. It was not reason +that restrained her then, but something higher in her, that restrained +him likewise. Without moving from the wall she pushed open the door of +the sitting room. + +"Go in there," she said. + +He went in as she bade him and stood before the flickering logs in the +wide and shallow chimney-place--logs that seemed to burn on the very +hearth itself, and yet the smoke rose unerring into the flue. No stove +had ever desecrated that room. Bob looked into the flames and waited, and +Cynthia stood in the entry fighting this second great battle which had +come upon her while her forces were still spent with that other one. +Woman in her very nature is created to be sheltered and protected; and +the yearning in her, when her love is given, is intense as nature itself +to seek sanctuary in that love. So it was with Cynthia leaning against +the entry wall, her arms full length in front of her, and her hands +clasped as she prayed for strength to withstand the temptation. At last +she grew calmer, though her breath still came deeply, and she went into +the sitting room. + +Perhaps he knew, vaguely, why she had not followed him at once. He had +grown calmer himself, calmer with that desperation which comes to a man +of his type when his soul and body are burning with desire for a woman. +He knew that he would have to fight for her with herself. He knew now +that she was too strong in her position to be carried by storm, and the +interval had given him time to collect himself. He did not dare at first +to look up from the logs, for fear he should forget himself and be +defeated instantly. + +"I have been to Coniston, Cynthia," he said. + +"Yes." + +"I have been to Coniston this morning, and I have seen Mr. Bass, and I +have told him that I love you, and that I will never give you up. I told +you so in Boston, Cynthia," he said; "I knew that this this trouble would +come to you. I would have given my life to have saved you from it--from +the least part of it. I would have given my life to have been able to say +'it shall not touch you.' I saw it flowing in like a great sea between +you and me, and yet I could not tell you of it. I could not prepare you +for it. I could only tell you that I would never give you up, and I can +only repeat that now." + +"You must, Bob," she answered, in a voice so low that it was almost a +whisper; "you must give me up." + +"I would not," he said, "I would not if the words were written on all the +rocks of Coniston Mountain. I love you." + +"Hush," she said gently. "I have to say some things to you. They will be +very hard to say, but you must listen to them." + +"I will listen," he said doggedly; "but they will not affect my +determination." + +"I am sure you do not wish to drive me away from Brampton," she +continued, in the same low voice, "when I have found a place to earn my +living near-near Uncle Jethro." + +These words told him all he had suspected--almost as much as though he +had been present at the scene in the tannery shed in Coniston. She knew +now the life of Jethro Bass, but he was still "Uncle Jethro" to her. It +was even as Bob had supposed,--that her affection once given could not be +taken away. + +"Cynthia," he said, "I would not by an act or a word annoy or trouble +you. If you bade me, I would go to the other side of the world to-morrow. +You must know that. But I should come back again. You must know, that, +too. I should come back again for you." + +"Bob," she said again, and her voice faltered a very little now, "you +must know that I can never be your wife." + +"I do not know it," he exclaimed, interrupting her vehemently, "I will +not know it." + +"Think," she said, "think! I must say what I, have to say, however it +hurts me. If it had not been for--for your father, those things never +would have been written. They were in his newspaper, and they express his +feelings toward--toward Uncle Jethro." + +Once the words were out, she marvelled that she had found the courage to +pronounce them. + +"Yes," he said, "yes, I know that, but listen--" + +"Wait," she went on, "wait until I have finished. I am not speaking of +the pain I had when I read these things, I--I am not speaking of the +truth that may be in them--I have learned from them what I should have +known before, and felt, indeed, that your father will never consent +to--to a marriage between us." + +"And if he does not," cried Bob, "if he does not, do you think that I +will abide by what he says, when my life's happiness depends upon you, +and my life's welfare? I know that you are a good woman, and a true +woman, that you will be the best wife any man could have. Though he is my +father, he shall not deprive me of my soul, and he shall not take my life +away from me." + +As Cynthia listened she thought that never had words sounded sweeter than +these--no, and never would again. So she told herself as she let them run +into her heart to be stored among the treasures there. She believed in +his love--believed in it now with all her might. (Who, indeed, would +not?) She could not demean herself now by striving to belittle it or +doubt its continuance, as she had in Boston. He was young, yes; but he +would never be any older than this, could never love again like this. So +much was given her, ought she not to be content? Could she expect more? + +She understood Isaac Worthington, now, as well as his son understood him. +She knew that, if she were to yield to Bob Worthington, his father would +disown and disinherit him. She looked ahead into the years as a woman +will, and allowed herself for the briefest of moments to wonder whether +any happiness could thrive in spite of the violence of that schism--any +happiness for him. She would be depriving him of his birthright, and it +may be that those who are born without birthrights often value them the +most. Cynthia saw these things, and more, for those who sit at the feet +of sorrow soon learn the world's ways. She saw herself pointed out as the +woman whose designs had beggared and ruined him in his youth, and +(agonizing and revolting thought!) the name of one would be spoken from +whom she had learned such craft. Lest he see the scalding tears in her +eyes, she turned away and conquered them. What could she do? Where should +she hide her love that it might not be seen of men? And how, in truth, +could she tell him these things? + +"Cynthia," he went on, seeing that she did not answer, and taking heart, +"I will not say a word against my father. I know you would not respect me +if I did. We are different, he and I, and find happiness in different +ways." Bob wondered if his father had ever found it. "If I had never met +you and loved you, I should have refused to lead the life my father +wishes me to lead. It is not in me to do the things he will ask. I shall +have to carve out my own life, and I feel that I am as well able to do it +as he was. Percy Broke, a classmate of mine and my best friend, has a +position for me in a locomotive works in which his father is largely +interested. We are going in together, the day after we graduate; it is +all arranged, and his father has agreed. I shall work very hard, and in a +few years, Cynthia, we shall be together, never to part again. Oh, +Cynthia," he cried, carried away by the ecstasy of this dream which he +had, summoned up, "why do you resist me? I love you as no man has ever +loved," he exclaimed, with scornful egotism and contempt of those who had +made the world echo with that cry through the centuries, "and you love +me! Ah, do you think I do not see it--cannot feel it? You love me--tell +me so." + +He was coming toward her, and how was she to prevent his taking her by +storm? That was his way, and well she knew it. In her dreams she had felt +herself lifted and borne off, breathless in his arms, to Elysium. Her +breath was going now, her strength was going, and yet she made him pause +by the magic of a word. A concession was in that word, but one could not +struggle so piteously and concede nothing. + +"Bob," she said, "do you love me?" + +Love her! If there was a love that acknowledged no bounds, that was +confined by no superlatives, it was his. He began to speak, but she +interrupted him with a wild passion that was new to her. As he sat in the +train on his way back to Cambridge through the darkening afternoon, the +note of it rang in his ears and gave him hope--yes, and through many +months afterward. + +"If you love me I beg, I implore, I beseech you in the name of that +love--for your, sake and my sake, to leave me. Oh, can you not see why +you must go?" + +He stopped, even as he had before in the parlor in Mount Vernon Street. +He could but stop in the face of such an appeal--and yet the blood beat +in his head with a mad joy. + +"Tell me that you love me,--once," he cried,--"once, Cynthia." + +"Do-do not ask me," she faltered. "Go." + +Her words were a supplication, not a command. And in that they were a +supplication he had gained a victory. Yes, though she had striven with +all her might to deny, she had bade him hope. He left her without so much +as a touch of the hand, because she had wished it. And yet she loved him! +Incredible fact! Incredible conjury which made him doubt that his feet +touched the snow of Brampton Street, which blotted, as with a golden +glow, the faces and the houses of Brampton from his sight. He saw no one, +though many might have accosted him. That part of him which was clay, +which performed the menial tasks of his being, had kindly taken upon +itself to fetch his bag from the house to the station, and to board the +train. + +Ah, but Brampton had seen him! + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +Great events, like young Mr. Worthington's visit to Brampton, are all +very well for a while, but they do not always develop with sufficient +rapidity to satisfy the audiences of the drama. Seven days were an +interlude quite long enough in which to discuss every phase and bearing +of this opening scene, and after that the play in all justice ought to +move on. But there it halted--for a while--and the curtain obstinately +refused to come up. If the inhabitants of Brampton had only known that +the drama, when it came, would be well worth waiting for, they might have +been less restless. + +It is unnecessary to enrich the pages of this folio with all the +footnotes and remarks of, the sages of Brampton. These can be condensed +into a paragraph of two--and we can ring up the curtain when we like on +the next scene, for which Brampton had to wait considerably over a month. +There is to be no villain in this drama with the face of an Abbe Maury +like the seven cardinal sins. Comfortable looking Mr. Dodd of the +prudential committee, with his chin-tuft of yellow beard, is cast for the +part of the villain, but will play it badly; he would have been better +suited to a comedy part. + +Young Mr. Worthington left Brampton on the five o'clock train, and at six +Mr. Dodd met his fellow-member of the committee, Judge Graves. + +"Called a meetin'?" asked Mr. Dodd, pulling the yellow tuft. + +"What for?" said the judge, sharply. + +"What be you a-goin' to do about it?" said Mr. Dodd. + +"Do about what?" demanded the judge, looking at the hardware dealer from +under his eyebrows. + +Mr. Dodd knew well enough that this was not ignorance on the part of Mr. +Graves, whose position in the matter dad been very well defined in the +two sentences he had spoken. Mr. Dodd perceived that the judge was trying +to get him to commit himself, and would then proceed to annihilate him. +He, Levi Dodd, had no intention of walking into such a trap. + +"Well," said he, with a final tug at the tuft, "if that's the way you +feel about it." + +"Feel about what?" said the judge, fiercely. + +"Callate you know best," said Mr. Dodd, and passed on up the street. But +he felt the judge's gimlet eyes boring holes in his back. The judge's +position was very fine, no doubt for the judge. All of which tends to +show that Levi Dodd had swept his mind, and that it was ready now for the +reception of an opinion. + +Six weeks or more, as has been said, passed before the curtain rose +again, but the snarling trumpets of the orchestra played a fitting +prelude. Cynthia's feelings and Cynthia's life need not be gone into +during this interval knowing her character, they may well be imagined. +They were trying enough, but Brampton had no means of guessing them. +During the weeks she came and went between the little house and the +little school, putting all the strength that was in her into her duties. +The Prudential Committee, which sometimes sat on the platform, could find +no fault with the performance of these duties, or with the capability of +the teacher, and it is not going too far to state that the children grew +to love her better than Miss Goddard had been loved. It may be declared +that children are the fittest citizens of a republic, because they are +apt to make up their own minds on any subject without regard to public +opinion. It was so with the scholars of Brampton village lower school: +they grew to love the new teacher, careless of what the attitude of their +elders might be, and some of them could have been seen almost any day +walking home with her down the street. + +As for the attitude of the elders--there was none. Before assuming one +they had thought it best, with characteristic caution, to await the next +act in the drama. There were ladies in Brampton whose hearts prompted +them, when they called on the new teacher, to speak a kindly word of +warning and advice; but somehow, when they were seated before her in the +little sitting room of the John Billings house, their courage failed +them. There was something about this daughter of the Coniston storekeeper +and ward of Jethro Bass that made them pause. So much for the ladies of +Brampton. What they said among themselves would fill a chapter, and more. + +There was, at this time, a singular falling-off in the attendance of the +Brampton Club. Ephraim sat alone most of the day in his Windsor chair by +the stove, pretending to read newspapers. But he did not mention this +fact to Cynthia. He was more lonesome than ever on the Saturdays and +Sundays which she spent with Jethro Bass. + +Jethro Bass! It is he who might be made the theme of the music of the +snarling trumpets. What was he about during those six weeks? That is what +the state at large was beginning to wonder, and the state at large was +looking on at a drama, too. A rumor reached the capital and radiated +thence to every city and town and hamlet, and was followed by other +rumors like confirmations. Jethro Bass, for the first time in a long life +of activity, was inactive: inactive, too, at this most critical period of +his career, the climax of it, with a war to be waged which for bitterness +and ferocity would have no precedent; with the town meetings at hand, +where the frontier fighting was to be done, and no quarter given. +Lieutenants had gone to Coniston for further orders and instructions, and +had come back without either. Achilles was sulking in the tannery +house--some said a broken Achilles. Not a word could be got out of him, +or the sign of an intention. Jake Wheeler moped through the days in Rias +Richardson's store, too sore at heart to speak to any man, and could have +wept if tears had been a relief to him. No more blithe errands over the +mountain to Clovelly and elsewhere, though Jake knew the issue now and +itched for the battle, and the vassals of the hill-Rajah under a jubilant +Bijah Bixby were arming cap-a-pie. Lieutenant-General-and-Senator Peleg +Hartington of Brampton, in his office over the livery stable, shook his +head like a mournful stork when questioned by brother officers from afar. +Operations were at a standstill, and the sinews of war relaxed. Rural +givers of mortgages, who had not had the opportunity of selling them or +had feared to do so, began (mirabile dictu) to express opinions. Most +ominous sign of all--the proprietor of the Pelican Hotel had confessed +that the Throne Room had not been engaged for the coming session. + +Was it possible that Jethro Bass lay crushed under the weight of the +accusations which had been printed, and were still being printed, in the +Newcastle Guardian? He did not answer them, or retaliate in other +newspapers, but Jethro Bass had never made use of newspapers in this way. +Still, nothing ever printed about him could be compared with those +articles. Had remorse suddenly overtaken him in his old age? Such were +the questions people we're asking all over the state--people, at least, +who were interested in politics, or in those operations which went by the +name of politics: yes, and many private citizens--who had participated in +politics only to the extent of voting for such candidates as Jethro in +his wisdom had seen fit to give them, read the articles and began to say +that boss domination was at an end. A new era was at hand, which they +fondly (and very properly) believed was to be a golden era. It was, +indeed, to be a golden era--until things got working; and then the gold +would cease. The Newcastle Guardian, with unconscious irony, proclaimed +the golden era; and declared that its columns, even in other days and +under other ownership, had upheld the wisdom of Jethro Bass. And he was +still a wise man, said the Guardian, for he had had sense enough to give +up the fight. + +Had he given up the fight? Cynthia fervently hoped and prayed that he +had, but she hoped and prayed in silence. Well she knew, if the event in +the tannery shed had not made him abandon his affairs, no appeal could do +so. Her happiest days in this period were the Saturdays and Sundays spent +with him in Coniston, and as the weeks went by she began to believe that +the change, miraculous as it seemed, had indeed taken place. He had given +up his power. It was a pleasure that made the weeks bearable for her. +What did it matter--whether he had made the sacrifice for the sake of his +love for her? He had made it. + +On these Saturdays and Sundays they went on long drives together over the +hills, while she talked to him of her life in Brampton or the books she +was reading, and of those she had chosen for him to read. Sometimes they +did not turn homeward until the delicate tracery of the branches on the +snow warned them of the rising moon. Jethro was often silent for hours at +a time, but it seemed to Cynthia that it was the silence of peace--of a +peace he had never known before. There came no newspapers to the tannery +house now: during the mid-week he read the books of which she had spoken +William Wetherell's books; or sat in thought, counting, perhaps; the days +until she should come again. And the boy of those days for him was more +pathetic than much that is known to the world as sorrow. + +And what did Coniston think? Coniston, indeed, knew not what to think, +when, little by little, the great men ceased to drive up to the door of +the tannery house, and presently came no more. Coniston sank then from +its proud position as the real capital of the state to a lonely hamlet +among the hills. Coniston, too, was watching the drama, and had had a +better view of the stage than Brampton, and saw some reason presently for +the change in Jethro Bass. Not that Mr. Satterlee told, but such evidence +was bound, in the end, to speak for itself. The Newcastle Guardian had +been read and debated at the store--debated with some heat by Chester +Perkins and other mortgagors; discussed, nevertheless, in a political +rather than a moral light. Then Cynthia had returned home; her face had +awed them by its sorrow, and she had begun to earn her own living. Then +the politicians had ceased to come. The credit belongs to Rias Richardson +for hawing been the first to piece these three facts together, causing +him to burn his hand so severely on the stove that he had to carry it +bandaged in soda for a week. Cynthia Wetherell had reformed Jethro. + +Though the village loved and revered Cynthia, Coniston as a whole did not +rejoice in that reform. The town had fallen from its mighty estate, and +there were certain envious ones who whispered that it had remained for a +young girl who had learned city ways to twist Jethro around her finger; +that she had made him abandon his fight with Isaac D. Worthington because +Mr. Worthington had a son--but there is no use writing such scandal. +Stripped of his power--even though he stripped himself--Jethro began to +lose their respect, a trait tending to prove that the human race may have +had wolves for ancestors as well as apes. People had small opportunity, +however, of showing a lack of respect to his person, for in these days he +noticed no one and spoke to none. + +When the lion is crippled, the jackals begin to range. A jackal +reconnoitered the lair to see how badly the lion was crippled, and +conceived with astounding insolence the plan of capturing the lion's +quarry. This jackal, who was an old one, well knew how to round up a +quarry, and fled back over the hills to consult with a bigger jackal, his +master. As a result, two days before March town-meeting day, Mr. Bijah +Bixby paid a visit to the Harwich bank and went among certain Coniston +farmers looking over the sheep, his clothes bulging out in places when he +began, and seemingly normal enough when he had finished. History repeats +itself, even among lions and jackals. Thirty-six years before there had +been a town-meeting in Coniston and a surprise. Established Church, +decent and orderly selectmen and proceedings had been toppled over that +day, every outlying farm sending its representative through the sleet to +do it. And now retribution was at hand. This March-meeting day was mild, +the grass showing a green color on the south slopes where the snow had +melted, and the outlying farmers drove through mud-holes up to the axles. +Drove, albeit, in procession along the roads, grimly enough, and the +sheds Jock Hallowell had built around the meeting-house could not hold +the horses; they lined the fences and usurped the hitching posts of the +village street, and still they came. Their owners trooped with muddy +boots into the meeting-house, and when the moderator rapped for order the +Chairman of the Board of Selectmen, Jethro Bass, was not in his place; +never, indeed, would be there again. Six and thirty years he had been +supreme in that town--long enough for any man. The beams and king posts +would know him no more. Mr. Amos Cuthbert was elected Chairman, not +without a gallant and desperate but unsupported fight of a minority led +by Mr. Jake Wheeler, whose loyalty must be taken as a tribute to his +species. Farmer Cuthbert was elected, and his mortgage was not +foreclosed! Had it been, there was more money in the Harwich bank. + +There was no telegraph to Coniston in these days, and so Mr. Sam Price, +with his horse in a lather, might have been seen driving with unseemly +haste toward Brampton, where in due time he arrived. Half an hour later +there was excitement at Newcastle, sixty-five miles away, in the office +of the Guardian, and the next morning the excitement had spread over the +whole state. + +Jethro Bass was dethroned in Coniston--discredited in his own town! + +And where was Jethro? Did his heart ache, did he bow his head as he +thought of that supremacy, so hardly won, so superbly held, gone forever? +Many were the curious eyes on the tannery house that day, and for days +after, but its owner gave no signs of concern. He read and thought and +chopped wood in the tannery shed as usual. Never, I believe, did man, +shorn of power, accept his lot more quietly. His struggle was over, his +battle was fought, a greater peace than he had ever thought to hope for +was won. For the opinion and regard of the world he had never cared. A +greater reward awaited him, greater than any knew--the opinion and regard +and the praise of one whom he loved beyond all the world. On Friday she +came to him, on Friday at sunset, for the days were growing longer, and +that was the happiest sunset of his life. She said nothing as she raised +her face to his and kissed him and clung to him in the little parlor, but +he knew, and he had his reward. So much for earthly power Cynthia brought +the little rawhide trunk this time, and came to Coniston for the March +vacation--a happy two weeks that was soon gone. Happy by comparison, that +is, with what they both had suffered, and a haven of rest after the +struggle and despair of the wilderness. The bond between them had, in +truth, never been stronger, for both the young girl and the old man had +denied themselves the thing they held most dear. Jethro had taken refuge +and found comfort in his love. But Cynthia! Her greatest love had now +been bestowed elsewhere. + +If there were letters for the tannery house, Milly Skinner, who made it a +point to meet the stage, brought them. And there were letters during +Cynthia's sojourn,--many of them, bearing the Cambridge postmark. One +evening it was Jethro who laid the letter on the table beside her as she +sat under the lamp. He did not look at her or speak, but she felt that he +knew her secret--felt that he deserved to have from her own lips what he +had been too proud--yes--and too humble to ask. Whose sympathy could she +be sure of, if not of his? Still she had longed to keep this treasure to +herself. She took the letter in her hand. + +"I do not answer them, Uncle Jethro, but--I cannot prevent his writing +them," she faltered. She did not confess that she kept them, every one, +and read them over and over again; that she had grown, indeed, to look +forward to them as to a sustenance. "I--I do love him, but I will not +marry him." + +Yes, she could be sure of Jethro's sympathy, though he could not express +it in words. Yet she had not told him for this. She had told him, much as +the telling had hurt her, because she feared to cut him more deeply by +her silence. + +It was a terrible moment for Jethro, and never had he desired the gift of +speech as now. Had it not been for him; Cynthia might have been Robert +Worthington's wife. He sat down beside her and put his hand over hers +that lay on the letter in her lap. It was the only answer he could make, +but perhaps it was the best, after all. Of what use were words at such a +time! + +Four days afterward, on a Monday morning, she went back to Brampton to +begin the new term. + +That same Monday a circumstance of no small importance took place in +Brampton--nothing less than the return, after a prolonged absence in the +West and elsewhere, of its first citizen. Isaac D. Worthington was again +in residence. No bells were rung, indeed, and no delegation of citizens +as such, headed by the selectmen, met him at the station; and other +feudal expressions of fealty were lacking. No staff flew Mr. +Worthington's arms; nevertheless the lord of Brampton was in his castle +again, and Brampton felt that he was there. He arrived alone, wearing the +silk hat which had become habitual with him now, and stepping into his +barouche at the station had been driven up Brampton Street behind his +grays, looking neither to the right nor left. His reddish chop whiskers +seemed to cling a little more closely to his face than formerly, and long +years of compression made his mouth look sterner than ever. A hawk-like +man, Isaac Worthington, to be reckoned with and feared, whether in a +frock coat or in breastplate and mail. + +His seneschal, Mr. Flint, was awaiting him in the library. Mr. Flint was +large and very ugly, big-boned, smooth-shaven, with coarse features all +askew, and a large nose with many excrescences, and thick lips. He was +forty-two. From a foreman of the mills he had risen, step by step, to his +present position, which no one seemed able to define. He was, indeed, a +seneschal. He managed the mills in his lord's absence, and--if the truth +be told--in his presence; knotty questions of the Truro Railroad were +brought to Mr. Flint and submitted to Mr. Worthington, who decided them, +with Mr. Flint's advice; and, within the last three months, Mr. Flint had +invaded the realm of politics, quietly, as such a man would, under the +cover of his patron's name and glory. Mr. Flint it was who had bought the +Newcastle Guardian, who went occasionally to Newcastle and spoke a few +effective words now and then to the editor; and, if the truth will out, +Mr. Flint had largely conceived that scheme about the railroads which was +to set Mr. Worthington on the throne of the state, although the scheme +was not now being carried out according to Mr. Flint's wishes. Mr. Flint +was, in a sense, a Bismarck, but he was not as yet all powerful. +Sometimes his august master or one of his fellow petty sovereigns would +sweep Mr. Flint's plans into the waste basket, and then Mr. Flint would +be content to wait. To complete the character sketch, Mr. Flint was not +above hanging up his master's hat and coat, Which he did upon the present +occasion, and went up to Mr. Worthington's bedroom to fetch a pocket +handkerchief out of the second drawer. He even knew where the +handkerchiefs were kept. Lucky petty sovereigns sometimes possess Mr. +Flints to make them emperors. + +The august personage seated himself briskly at his desk. + +"So that scoundrel Bass is actually discredited at last," he said, +blowing his nose in the pocket handkerchief Mr. Flint had brought him. "I +lose patience when I think how long we've stood the rascal in this state. +I knew the people would rise in their indignation when they learned the +truth about him." + +Mr. Flint did not answer this. He might have had other views. + +"I wonder we did not think of it before," Mr. Worthington continued. "A +very simple remedy, and only requiring a little courage and--and--" (Mr. +Worthington was going to say money, but thought better of it) "and the +chimera disappears. I congratulate you, Flint." + +"Congratulate yourself," said Mr. Flint; "that would not have been my +way." + +"Very well, I congratulate myself," said the august personage, who was in +too good a humor to be put out by the rejection of a compliment. "You +remember what I said: the time was ripe, just publish a few biographical +articles telling people what he was, and Jethro Bass would snuff out like +a candle. Mr. Duncan tells me the town-meeting results are very good all +over the state. Even if we hadn't knocked out Jethro Bass, we'd have a +fair majority for our bill in the next legislature." + +"You know Bass's saying," answered Mr. Flint, "You can hitch that kind of +a hoss, but they won't always stay hitched." + +"I know, I know," said Mr. Worthington; "don't croak, Flint. We can buy +more hitch ropes, if necessary. Well, what's the outlay up to the +present? Large, I suppose. Well, whatever it is, it's small compared to +what we'll get for it." He laughed a little and rubbed his hands, and +then he remembered that capacity in which he stood before the world. Yes, +and he stood before himself in the same capacity. Isaac Worthington may +have deceived himself, but he may or may not have been a hero to his +seneschal. "We have to fight fire with fire," he added, in a pained +voice. "Let me see the account." + +"I have tabulated the expense in the different cities and towns," +answered Mr. Flint; "I will show you the account in a little while. The +expenses in Coniston were somewhat greater than the size of the town +justified, perhaps. But Sutton thought--" + +"Yes, yes," interrupted Mr. Worthington, "if it had cost as much to carry +Coniston as Newcastle, it would have been worth it--for the moral effect +alone." + +Moral effect! Mr. Flint thought of Mr. Bixby with his bulging pockets +going about the hills, and smiled at the manner in which moral effects +are sometimes obtained. + +"Any news, Flint?" + +No news yet, Mr. Flint might have answered. In a few minutes there might +be news, and plenty of it, for it lay ready to be hatched under Mr. +Worthington's eye. A letter in the bold and upright hand of his son was +on the top of the pile, placed there by Mr. Flint himself, who had +examined Mr. Worthington's face closely when he came in to see how much +he might know of its contents. He had decided that Mr. Worthington was in +too good a humor to know anything of them. Mr. Flint had not steamed the +letter open, and read the news; but he could guess at them pretty +shrewdly, and so could have the biggest fool in Brampton. That letter +contained the opening scene of the next act in the drama. + +Mr. Worthington cut the envelope and began to read, and while he did so +Mr. Flint, who was not afraid of man or beast, looked at him. It was a +manly and straight forward letter, and Mr. Worthington, no matter what +his opinions on the subject were, should have been proud of it. Bob +announced, first of all, that he was going to marry Cynthia Wetherell; +then he proceeded with praiseworthy self-control (for a lover) to +describe Cynthia's character and attainments: after which he stated that +Cynthia had refused him--twice, because she believed that Mr. Worthington +would oppose the marriage, and had declared that she would never be the +cause of a breach between father and son. Bob asked for his father's +consent, and hoped to have it, but he thought it only right to add that +he had given his word and his love, and did not mean to retract either. +He spoke of his visit to Brampton, and explained that Cynthia was +teaching school there, and urged his father to see her before he made a +decision. Mr. Worthington read it through to the end, his lips closing +tighter and tighter until his mouth was but a line across his face. There +was pain in the face, too, the kind of pain which anger sends, and which +comes with the tottering of a pride that is false. Of what gratification +now was the overthrow of Jethro Bass? + +He stared at the letter for a moment after he had finished it, and his +face grew a dark red. Then he seized the paper and tore it slowly, +deliberately, into bits. + +Dudley Worthington was not thinking then--not he!--of the young man in +the white beaver who had called at the Social Library many years before +to see a young woman whose name, too, had been Cynthia.--He was thinking, +in fact, for he was a man to think in anger, whether it were not possible +to remove this Cynthia from the face of the earth--at least to a place +beyond his horizon and that of his son. Had he worn the chain mail +instead of the frock coat he would have had her hung outside the town +walls. + +"Good God!" he exclaimed. And the words sounded profane indeed as he +fixed his eyes upon Mr. Flint. "You knew that Robert had been to +Brampton." + +"Yes," said Flint, "the whole village knew it." + +"Good God!" cried Mr. Worthington again, "why was I not informed of this? +Why was I not warned of this? Have I no friends? Do you pretend to look +after my interests and not take the trouble to write me on such a +subject." + +"Do you think I could have prevented it?" asked Mr. Flint, very calmly. + +"You allow this--this woman to come here to Brampton and teach school in +a place where she can further her designs? What were you about?" + +"When the prudential committee appointed her, nothing of this was known, +Mr. Worthington." + +"Yes, but now--now! What are you doing, what are they doing to allow her +to remain? Who are on that committee?" + +Mr. Flint named the men. They had been reelected, as usual, at the recent +town-meeting. Mr. Errol, who had also been reelected, had returned but +had not yet issued the certificate or conducted the examination. + +"Send for them, have them here at once," commanded Mr. Worthington, +without listening to this. + +"If you take my advice, you will do nothing of the kind," said Mr. Flint, +who, as usual, had the whole situation at his fingers' ends. He had taken +the trouble to inform himself about the girl, and he had discovered, +shrewdly enough, that she was the kind which might be led, but not +driven. If Mr. Flint's advice had been listened to, this story might have +had quite a different ending. But Mr. Flint had not reached the stage +where his advice was always listened to, and he had a maddened man to +deal with now. At that moment, as if fate had determined to intervene, +the housemaid came into the room. + +"Mr. Dodd to see you, sir," she said. + +"Show him in," shouted Mr. Worthington; "show him in!" + +Mr. Dodd was not a man who could wait for a summons which he had felt in +his bones was coming. He was ordinarily, as we have seen, officious. But +now he was thoroughly frightened. He had seen the great man in the +barouche as he drove past the hardware store, and he had made up his mind +to go up at once, and have it over with. His opinions were formed now, He +put a smile on his face when he was a foot outside of the library door. + +"This is a great pleasure, Mr. Worthington, a great pleasure, to see you +back," he said, coming forward. "I callated--" + +But the great man sat in his chair, and made no attempt to return the +greeting. + +"Mr. Dodd, I thought you were my friend," he said. + +Mr. Dodd went all to pieces at this reception. + +"So I be, Mr. Worthington--so I be," he cried. "That's why I'm here now. +I've b'en a friend of yours ever since I can remember--never fluctuated. +I'd rather have chopped my hand off than had this happen--so I would. If +I could have foreseen what she was, she'd never have had the place, as +sure as my name's Levi Dodd." + +If Mr. Dodd had taken the trouble to look at the seneschal's face, he +would have seen a well-defined sneer there. + +"And now that you know what she is," cried Mr. Worthington, rising and +smiting the pile of letters on his desk, "why do you keep her there an +instant?" + +Mr. Dodd stopped to pick up the letters, which had flown over the floor. +But the great man was now in the full tide of his anger. + +"Never mind the letters," he shouted; "tell me why you keep her there." + +"We callated we'd wait and see what steps you'd like taken," said the +trembling townsman. + +"Steps! Steps! Good God! What kind of man are you to serve in such a +place when you allow the professed ward of Jethro Bass--of Jethro Bass, +the most notoriously depraved man in this state, to teach the children of +this town. Steps! How soon can you call your committee together?" + +"Right away," answered Mr. Dodd, breathlessly. He would have gone on to +exculpate himself, but Mr. Worthington's inexorable finger was pointing +at the door. + +"If you are a friend of mine," said that gentleman, "and if you have any +regard for the fair name of this town, you will do so at once." + +Mr. Dodd departed precipitately, and Mr. Worthington began to pace the +room, clasping his hands now in front of him, now behind him, in his +agony: repeating now and again various appellations which need not be +printed here, which he applied in turn to the prudential committee, to +his son, and to Cynthia Wetherell. + +"I'll run her out of Brampton," he said at last. + +"If you do," said Mr. Flint, who had been watching him apparently +unmoved, "you may have Jethro Bass on your back." + +"Jethro Bass?" shouted Mr. Worthington, with a laugh that was not +pleasant to hear, "Jethro Bass is as dead as Julius Caesar." + +It was one thing for Mr. Dodd to promise so readily a meeting of the +committee, and quite another to decide how he was going to get through +the affair without any more burns and scratches than were absolutely +necessary. He had reversed the usual order, and had been in the fire--now +he was going to the frying-pan. He stood in the street for some time, +pulling at his tuft, and then made his way to Mr. Jonathan Hill's feed +store. Mr. Hill was reading "Sartor Resartus" in his little office, the +temperature of which must have been 95, and Mr. Dodd was perspiring when +he got there. + +"It's come," said Mr. Dodd, sententiously. + +"What's come?" inquired Mr. Hill, mildly. + +"Isaac D.'s come, that's what," said Mr. Dodd. "I hain't b'en sleepin' +well of nights, lately. I can't think what we was about, Jonathan, +puttin' that girl in the school. We'd ought to've knowed she wahn't fit." + +"What's the matter with her?" inquired Mr. Hill. + +"Matter with her!" exclaimed his fellow-committeeman, "she lives with +Jethro Bass--she's his ward." + +"Well, what of it?" said Mr. Hill, who never bothered himself about +gossip or newspapers, or indeed about anything not between the covers of +a book, except when he couldn't help it. + +"Good God!" exclaimed Mr. Dodd, "he's the most notorious, depraved man in +the state. Hain't we got to look out for the fair name of Brampton?" + +Mr. Hill sighed and closed his book. + +"Well," he said; "I'd hoped we were through with that. Let's go up and +see what Judge Graves says about it." + +"Hold on," said Mr. Dodd, seizing the feed dealer by the coat, "we've got +to get it fixed in our minds what we're goin' to do, first. We can't +allow no notorious people in our schools. We've got to stand up to the +jedge, and tell him so. We app'inted her on his recommendation, you +know." + +"I like the girl," replied Mr. Hill. "I don't think we ever had a better +teacher. She's quiet, and nice appearin', and attends to her business." + +Mr. Dodd pulled his tuft, and cocked his head. + +"Mr. Worthington holds a note of yours, don't he, Jonathan?" + +Mr. Hill reflected. He said he thought perhaps Mr. Worthington did. + +"Well," said Mr. Dodd, "I guess we might as well go along up to the jedge +now as any time." + +But when they got there Mr. Dodd's knock was so timid that he had to +repeat it before the judge came to the door and peered at them over his +spectacles. + +"Well, gentlemen, what can I do for you?" he asked, severely, though he +knew well enough. He had not been taken by surprise many times during the +last forty years. Mr. Dodd explained that they wished a little meeting of +the committee. The judge ushered them into his bedroom, the parlor being +too good for such an occasion. + +"Now, gentlemen," said he, "let us get down to business. Mr. Worthington +arrived here to-day, he has seen Mr. Dodd, and Mr. Dodd has seen Mr. +Hill. Mr. Worthington is a political opponent of Jethro Bass, and wishes +Miss Wetherell dismissed. Mr. Dodd and Mr. Hill have agreed, for various +reasons which I will spare you, that Miss Wetherell should be dismissed. +Have I stated the case, gentlemen, or have I not?" + +Mr. Graves took off his spectacles and wiped them, looking from one to +the other of his very uncomfortable fellow-members. Mr. Hill did not +attempt to speak; but Mr. Dodd, who was not sure now that this was not +the fire and the other the frying-pan, pulled at his tuft until words +came to him. + +"Jedge," he said finally, "I must say I'm a mite surprised. I must say +your language is unwarranted." + +"The truth is never unwarranted," said the judge. + +"For the sake of the fair name of Brampton," began Mr. Dodd, "we cannot +allow--" + +"Mr. Dodd," interrupted the judge, "I would rather have Mr. Worthington's +arguments from Mr. Worthington himself, if I wanted them at all. There is +no need of prolonging this meeting. If I were to waste my breath until +six o'clock, it would be no use. I was about to say that your opinions +were formed, but I will alter that, and say that your minds are fixed. +You are determined to dismiss Miss Wetherell. Is it not so?" + +"I wish you'd hear me, Jedge," said Mr. Dodd, desperately. + +"Will you kindly answer me yes or no to that question," said the judge; +"my time is valuable." + +"Well, if you put it that way, I guess we are agreed that she hadn't +ought to stay. Not that I've anything against her personally--" + +"All right," said the judge, with a calmness that made them tremble. They +had never bearded him before. "All right, you are two to one and no +certificate has been issued. But I tell you this, gentlemen, that you +will live to see the day when you will bitterly regret this injustice to +an innocent and a noble woman, and Isaac D. Worthington will live to +regret it. You may tell him I said so. Good day, gentlemen." + +They rose. + +"Jedge," began Mr. Dodd again, "I don't think you've been quite fair with +us." + +"Fair!" repeated the judge, with unutterable scorn. "Good day, +gentlemen." And he slammed the door behind them. + +They walked down the street some distance before either of them spoke. + +"Goliah," said Mr. Dodd, at last, "did you ever hear such talk? He's got +the drattedest temper of any man I ever knew, and he never callates to +make a mistake. It's a little mite hard to do your duty when a man talks +that way." + +"I'm not sure we've done it," answered Mr. Hill. + +"Not sure!" ejaculated the hardware dealer, for he was now far enough +away from the judge's house to speak in his normal tone, "and she +connected with that depraved--" + +"Hold on," said Mr. Hill, with an astonishing amount of spirit for him, +"I've heard that before." + +Mr. Dodd looked at him, swallowed the wrong way and began to choke. + +"You hain't wavered, Jonathan?" he said, when he got his breath. + +"No, I haven't," said Mr. Hill, sadly; "but I wish to hell I had." + +Mr. Dodd looked at him again, and began to choke again. It was the first +time he had known Jonathan Hill to swear. + +"You're a-goin' to stick by what you agreed--by your principles?" + +"I'm going to stick by my bread and butter," said Mr. Hill, "not by my +principles. I wish to hell I wasn't." + +And so saying that gentleman departed, cutting diagonally across the +street through the snow, leaving Mr. Dodd still choking and pulling at +his tuft. This third and totally-unexpected shaking-up had caused him to +feel somewhat deranged internally, though it had not altered the opinions +now so firmly planted in his head. After a few moments, however, he had +collected himself sufficiently to move on once more, when he discovered +that he was repeating to himself, quite unconsciously, Mr. Hill's +profanity "I wish to hell I wasn't." The iron mastiffs glaring at him +angrily out of the snow banks reminded him that he was in front of Mr. +Worthington's door, and he thought he might as well go in at once and +receive the great man's gratitude. He certainly deserved it. But as he +put his hand on the bell Mr. Worthington himself came out of the house, +and would actually have gone by without noticing Mr. Dodd if he had not +spoken. + +"I've got that little matter fixed, Mr. Worthington," he said, "called +the committee, and we voted to discharge the--the young woman." No, he +did not deliver Judge Graves's message. + +"Very well, Mr. Dodd," answered the great man, passing on so that Mr. +Dodd was obliged to follow him in order to hear, "I'm glad you've come to +your senses at last. Kindly step into the library and tell Miss Bruce +from me that she may fill the place to-morrow." + +"Certain," said Mr. Dodd, with his hand to his chin. He watched the great +man turn in at his bank in the new block, and then he did as he was bid. + +By the time school was out that day the news had leaped across Brampton +Street and spread up and down both sides of it that the new teacher had +been dismissed. The story ran fairly straight--there were enough clews, +certainly. The great man's return, the visit of Mr. Dodd, the call on +Judge Graves, all had been marked. The fiat of the first citizen had gone +forth that the ward of Jethro Bass must be got rid of; the designing +young woman who had sought to entrap his son must be punished for her +amazing effrontery. + +Cynthia came out of school happily unaware that her name was on the lips +of Brampton: unaware, too, that the lord of the place had come into +residence that day. She had looked forward to living in the same town +with Bob's father as an evil which was necessary to be borne, as one of +the things which are more or less inevitable in the lives of those who +have to make their own ways in the world. The children trooped around +her, and the little girls held her hand, and she talked and laughed with +them as she came up the street in the eyes of Brampton,--came up the +street to the block of new buildings where the bank was. Stepping out of +the bank, with that businesslike alertness which characterized him, was +the first citizen--none other. He found himself entangled among the +romping children and--horror of horrors he bumped into the schoolmistress +herself! Worse than this, he had taken off his hat and begged her pardon +before he looked at her and realized the enormity of his mistake. And the +schoolmistress had actually paid no attention to him, but with merely +heightened color had drawn the children out of his way and passed on +without a word. The first citizen, raging inwardly, but trying to appear +unconcerned, walked rapidly back to his house. On the street of his own +town, before the eyes of men, he had been snubbed by a school-teacher. +And such a schoolteacher! + +Mr. Worthington, as he paced his library burning with the shame of this +occurrence, remembered that he had had to glance at her twice before it +came over him who she was. His first sensation had been astonishment. And +now, in spite of his bitter anger, he had to acknowledge that the face +had made an impression on him--a fact that only served to increase his +rage. A conviction grew upon him that it was a face which his son, or any +other man, would not be likely to forget. He himself could not forget it. + +In the meantime Cynthia had reached her home, her cheeks still smarting, +conscious that people had stared at her. This much, of course, she +knew--that Brampton believed Bob Worthington to be in love with her: and +the knowledge at such times made her so miserable that the thought of +Jethro's isolation alone deterred her from asking Miss Lucretia Penniman +for a position in Boston. For she wrote to Miss Lucretia about her life +and her reading, as that lady had made her promise to do. She sat down +now at the cherry chest of drawers that was also a desk, to write: not to +pour out her troubles, for she never had done that,--but to calm her mind +by drawing little character sketches of her pupils. But she had only +written the words, "My dear Miss Lucretia," when she looked out of the +window and saw Judge Graves coming up the path, and ran to open the door +for him. + +"How do you do, Judge?" she said, for she recognized Mr. Graves as one of +her few friends in Brampton. "I have sent to Boston for the new reader, +but it has not come." + +The judge took her hand and pressed it and led her into the little +sitting room. His face was very stern, but his eyes, which had flung fire +at Mr. Dodd, looked at her with a vast compassion. Her heart misgave her. + +"My dear," he said,--it was long since the judge had called any woman "my +dear,"--"I have bad news for you. The committee have decided that you +cannot teach any longer in the Brampton school." + +"Oh, Judge," she answered, trying to force back the tears which would +come, "I have tried so hard. I had begun to believe that I could fill the +place." + +"Fill the place!" cried the judge, startling her with his sudden anger. +"No woman in the state can fill it better than you." + +"Then why am I dismissed?" she asked breathlessly. + +The judge looked at her in silence, his blue lips quivering. Sometimes +even he found it hard to tell the truth. And yet he had come to tell it, +that she might suffer less. He remembered the time when Isaac D. +Worthington had done him a great wrong. + +"You are dismissed," he said, "because Mr. Worthington has come home, and +because the two other members of the committee are dogs and cowards." Mr. +Graves never minced matters when he began, and his voice shook with +passion. "If Mr. Errol had examined you, and you had your certificate, it +might have been different. Errol is not a sycophant. Worthington does not +hold his mortgage." + +"Mortgage!" exclaimed Cynthia. The word always struck terror to her soul. + +"Mr. Worthington holds Mr. Hill's mortgage," said Mr. Graves, more than +ever beside himself at the sight of her suffering. "That man's tyranny is +not to be borne. We will not give up, Cynthia. I will fight him in this +matter if it takes my last ounce of strength, so help me God!" + +Mortgage! Cynthia sank down in the chair by the desk. In spite of the +misery the news had brought, the thought that his father, too, who was +fighting Jethro Bass as a righteous man, dealt in mortgages and coerced +men to do his will, was overwhelming. So she sat for a while staring at +the landscape on the old wall paper. + +"I will go to Coniston to-night," she said at last. + +"No," cried the judge, seizing her shoulder in his excitement, "no. Do +you think that I have been your friend--that I am your friend?" + +"Oh, Judge Graves--" + +"Then stay here, where you are. I ask it as a favor to me. You need not +go to the school to-morrow--indeed, you cannot. But stay here for a day +or two at least, and if there is any justice left in a free country, we +shall have it. Will you stay, as a favor to me?" + +"I will stay, since you ask it," said Cynthia. "I will do what you think +right." + +Her voice was firmer than he expected--much firmer. He glanced at her +quickly, with something very like admiration in his eye. + +"You are a good woman, and a brave woman," he said, and with this +somewhat surprising tribute he took his departure instantly. + +Cynthia was left to her thoughts, and these were harassing and sorrowful +enough. One idea, however, persisted through them all. Mr. Worthington, +whose power she had lived long enough in Brampton to know, was an unjust +man and a hypocrite. That thought was both sweet and bitter: sweet, as a +retribution; and bitter, because he was Bob's father. She realized, now, +that Bob knew these things, and she respected and loved him the more, if +that were possible, because he had refrained from speaking of them to +her. And now another thought came, and though she put it resolutely from +her, persisted. Was she not justified now in marrying him? The reasoning +was false, so she told herself. She had no right to separate Bob from his +father, whatever his father might be. Did not she still love Jethro Bass? +Yes, but he had renounced his ways. Her heart swelled gratefully as she +spoke the words to herself, and she reflected that he, at least, had +never been a hypocrite. + +Of one thing she was sure, now. In the matter of the school she had right +on her side, and she must allow Judge Graves to do whatever he thought +proper to maintain that right. If Isaac D. Worthington's character had +been different, this would not have been her decision. Now she would not +leave Brampton in disgrace, when she had done nothing to merit it. Not +that she believed that the judge would prevail against such mighty odds. +So little did she think so that she fell, presently, into a despondency +which in all her troubles had not overtaken her--the despondency which +comes even to the pure and the strong when they feel the unjust strength +of the world against them. In this state her eyes fell on the letter she +had started to Miss Lucretia Penniman, and in desperation she began to +write. + +It was a short letter, reserved enough, and quite in character. It was +right that she should defend herself, which she did with dignity, saying +that she believed the committee had no fault to find with her duties, but +that Mr. Worthington had seen fit to bring influence to bear upon them +because of her connection with Jethro Bass. + +It was not the whole truth, but Cynthia could not bring herself to write +of that other reason. At the end she asked, very simply, if Miss Lucretia +could find her something to do in Boston in case her dismissal became +certain. Then she put on her coat, and walked to the postoffice to post +the letter, for she resolved that there could be no shame without reason +for it. There was a little more color in her cheeks, and she held her +head high, preparing to be slighted. But she was not slighted, and got +more salutations, if anything, than usual. She was, indeed, in the right +not to hide her head, and policy alone would have forbade it, had Cynthia +thought of policy. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +Public opinion is like the wind--it bloweth where it listeth. It whistled +around Brampton the next day, whirling husbands and wives apart, and +families into smithereens. Brampton had a storm all to itself--save for a +sympathetic storm raging in Coniston--and all about a school-teacher. + +Had Cynthia been a certain type of woman, she would have had all the men +on her side and all of her own sex against her. It is a decided point to +be recorded in her favor that she had among her sympathizers as many +women as men. But the excitement of a day long remembered in Brampton +began, for her, when a score or more of children assembled in front of +the little house, tramping down the snow on the grass plots, shouting for +her to come to school with them. Children give no mortgages, or keep no +hardware stores. + +Cynthia, trying to read in front of the fire, was all in a tremble at the +sound of the high-pitched little voices she had grown to love, and she +longed to go out and kiss them, every one. Her nature, however, shrank +from any act which might appear dramatic or sensational. She could not +resist going to the window and smiling at them, though they appeared but +dimly--little dancing figures in a mist. And when they shouted, the more +she shook her head and put her finger to her lips in reproof and vanished +from their sight. Then they trooped sadly on to school, resolved to make +matters as disagreeable as possible for poor Miss Bruce, who had not +offended in any way. + +Two other episodes worthy of a place in this act of the drama occurred +that morning, and one had to do with Ephraim. Poor Ephraim! His way had +ever been to fight and ask no questions, and in his journey through the +world he had gathered but little knowledge of it. He had limped home the +night before in a state of anger of which Cynthia had not believed him +capable, and had reappeared in the sitting room in his best suit of blue. + +"Where are you going, Cousin Eph?" Cynthia had asked suspiciously. + +"Never you mind, Cynthy." + +"But I do mind," she said, catching hold of his sleeve. "I won't let you +go until you confess." + +"I'm a-goin' to tell Isaac Worthington what I think of him, that's whar +I'm a-goin'," cried Ephraim "what I always hev thought of him sence he +sent a substitute to the war an' acted treasonable here to home talkin' +ag'in' Lincoln." + +"Oh, Cousin Eph, you mustn't," said Cynthia, clinging to him with all her +strength in her dismay. It had taken every whit of her influence to +persuade him to relinquish his purpose. Cynthia knew very well that +Ephraim meant to lay hands on Mr. Worthington, and it would indeed have +been a disastrous hour for the first citizen if the old soldier had ever +got into his library. Cynthia pointed out, as best she might, that it +would be an evil hour for her, too, and that her cause would be greatly +injured by such a proceeding; she knew very well that it would ruin +Ephraim, but he would not have listened to such an argument. + +The next thing he wished to do was to go to Coniston and rouse Jethro. +Cynthia's heart stood still when he proposed this, for it touched upon +her greatest fear,--which had impelled her to go to Coniston. But she had +hoped and believed that Jethro, knowing her feelings, would do +nothing--since for her sake he had chosen to give up his power. Now an +acute attack of rheumatism had come to her rescue, and she succeeded in +getting Ephraim off to bed, swathed in bandages. + +The next morning he had insisted upon hobbling away to the postoffice, +where in due time he was discovered by certain members of the Brampton +Club nailing to the wall a new engraving of Abraham Lincoln, and draping +it with a little silk flag he had bought in Boston. By which it will be +seen that a potion of the Club were coming back to their old haunt. This +portion, it may be surmised, was composed of such persons alone as were +likely to be welcomed by the postmaster. Some of these had grievances +against Mr. Worthington or Mr. Flint; others, in more prosperous +circumstances, might have been moved by envy of these gentlemen; still +others might have been actuated largely by righteous resentment at what +they deemed oppression by wealth and power. These members who came that +morning comprised about one-fourth of those who formerly had been in the +habit of dropping in for a chat, and their numbers were a fair indication +of the fact that those who from various motives took the part of the +schoolteacher in Brampton were as one to three. + +It is not necessary to repeat their expressions of indignation and +sympathy. There was a certain Mr. Gamaliel Ives in the town, belonging to +an old Brampton family, who would have been the first citizen if that +other first citizen had not, by his rise to wealth and power, so +completely overshadowed him. Mr. Ives owned a small mill on Coniston +Water below the town. He fairly bubbled over with civic pride, and he was +an authority on all matters pertaining to Brampton's history. He knew +the "Hymn to Coniston" by heart. But we are digressing a little. Mr. +Ives, like that other Gamaliel of old, had exhorted his fellow-townsmen +to wash their hands of the controversy. But he was an intimate of Judge +Graves, and after talking with that gentleman he became a partisan +overnight; and when he had stopped to get his mail he had been lured +behind the window by the debate in progress. He was in the midst of some +impromptu remarks when he recognized a certain brisk step behind him, and +Isaac D. Worthington himself entered the sanctum! + +It must be explained that Mr. Worthington sometimes had an important +letter to be registered which he carried to the postoffice with his own +hands. On such occasions--though not a member of the Brampton Club--he +walked, as an overlord will, into any private place he chose, and +recognized no partitions or barriers. Now he handed the letter (addressed +to a certain person in Cambridge, Massachusetts) to the postmaster. + +"You will kindly register that and give me a receipt, Mr. Prescott," he +said. + +Ephraim turned from his contemplation of the features of the martyred +President, and on his face was something of the look it might have worn +when he confronted his enemies over the log-works at Five Forks. No, for +there was a vast contempt in his gaze now, and he had had no contempt for +the Southerners, and would have shaken hands with any of them the moment +the battle was over. Mr. Worthington, in spite of himself, recoiled a +little before that look, fearing, perhaps, physical violence. + +"I hain't a-goin' to hurt you, Mr. Worthington," Ephraim said, "but I am +a-goin' to ask you to git out in front, and mighty quick. If you hev any +business with the postmaster, there's the window," and Ephraim pointed to +it with his twisted finger. "I don't allow nobody but my friends here, +Mr. Worthington, and people I respect." + +Mr. Worthington looked--well, eye-witnesses give various versions as to +how he looked. All agree that his lip trembled; some say his eyes +watered: at any rate, he quailed, stood a moment undecided, and then +swung on his heel and walked to the partition door. At this safe distance +he turned. + +"Mr. Prescott," he said, his voice quivering with passion and perhaps +another emotion, "I will make it my duty to report to the +postmaster-general the manner in which this office is run. Instead of +attending to your business, you make the place a resort for loafers and +idlers. Good morning, sir." + +Ten minutes later Mr. Flint himself came to register the letter. But it +was done at the window, and the loafers and idlers were still there. + +The curtain had risen again, indeed, and the action was soon fast enough +for the most impatient that day. No sooner had the town heard with bated +breath of the expulsion of the first citizen from the inner sanctuary of +the post-office, than the news of another event began to go the rounds. +Mr. Worthington had other and more important things to think about than +minor postmasters, and after his anger and--yes, and momentary fear had +subsided, he forgot the incident except to make a mental note to remember +to deprive Mr. Prescott of his postmastership, which he believed could be +done readily enough now that Jethro Bass was out of the way. Then he had +stepped into the bank, which he had come to regard as his own bank, as he +regarded most institutions in Brampton. He had, in the old days, been +president of it, as we know. He stepped into the bank, and then--he +stepped out again. + +Most people have experienced that sickly feeling of the diaphragm which +sometimes comes from a sadden shock. Mr. Worthington had it now as he +hurried up the street, and he presently discovered that he was walking in +the direction opposite to that of his own home. He crossed the street, +made a pretence of going into Mr. Goldthwaite's drug store, and hurried +back again. When he reached his own library, he found Mr. Flint busy +there at his desk. Mr. Flint rose. Mr. Worthington sat down and began to +pull the papers about in a manner which betrayed to his seneschal (who +knew every mood of his master) mental perturbation. + +"Flint," he said at last, striving his best for an indifferent accent, +"Jethro Bass is here--I ran across him just now drawing money in the +bank." + +"I could have told you that this morning," answered Mr. Flint. "Wheeler, +who runs errands for him in Coniston, drove him in this morning, and he's +been with Peleg Hartington for two hours over Sherman's livery stable." + +An interval of silence followed, during which Mr. Worthington shuffled +with his letters and pretended to read them. + +"Graves has called a mass meeting to-night, I understand," he remarked in +the same casual way. "The man's a demagogue, and mad as a loon. I believe +he sent back one of our passes once, didn't he? I suppose Bass has come +in to get Hartington to work up the meeting. They'll be laughed out of +the town hall, or hissed out." + +"I guess you'll find Bass has come down for something else," said Mr. +Flint, looking up from a division report. + +"What do you mean?" demanded Mr. Worthington, changing his attitude to +one of fierceness. But he was well aware that whatever tone he took with +his seneschal, he never fooled him. + +"I mean what I told you yesterday," said Flint, "that you've stirred up +the dragon." + +Even Mr. Flint did not know how like a knell his words sounded in Isaac +Worthington's ears. + +"Nonsense!" he cried, "you're talking nonsense, Flint. We maimed him too +thoroughly for that. He hasn't power enough left to carry his own town." + +"All right," said the seneschal. + +"What do you mean by that?" said his master, with extreme irritation. + +"I mean what I said yesterday, that we haven't maimed him at all. He had +his own reasons for going into his hole, and he never would have come out +again if you hadn't goaded him. Now he's out, and we'll have to step +around pretty lively, I can tell you, or he'll maim us." + +All of which goes to show that Mr. Flint had some notion of men and +affairs. He became, as may be predicted, the head of many material things +in later days, and he may sometime reappear in company with other +characters in this story. + +The sickly feeling in Mr. Worthington's diaphragm had now returned. + +"I think you will find you are mistaken, Flint," he said, attempting +dignity now. "Very much mistaken." + +"Very well," said Flint, "perhaps I am. But I believe you'll find he left +for the capital on the eleven o'clock, and if you take the trouble to +inquire from Bedding you will probably learn that the Throne Room is +bespoken for the session." + +All of that which Mr, Flint had predicted turned out to be true. The +dragon had indeed waked up. It all began with the news Milly Skinner had +got from the stage driver, imparted to Jethro as he sat reading about +Hiawatha. And terrible indeed had been that awakening. This dragon did +not bellow and roar and lash his tail when he was roused, but he stood +up, and there seemed to emanate from him a fire which frightened poor +Milly Skinner, upset though she was by the news of Cynthia's dismissal. +O, wondrous and paradoxical might of love, which can tame the most +powerful of beasts, and stir them again into furies by a touch! + +Coniston was the first to tremble, as though the forces stretching +themselves in the tannery house were shaking the very ground, and the +name of Jethro Bass took on once more, as by magic, a terrible meaning. +When Vesuvius is silent, pygmies may make faces on the very lip of the +crater, and they on the slopes forget the black terror of the fiery hail. +Jake Wheeler himself, loyal as he was, did not care to look into the +crater now that he was summoned; but a force pulled him all the way to +the tannery house. He left behind him an awe-stricken gathering at the +store, composed of inhabitants who had recently spoken slightingly of the +volcano. + +We are getting a little mixed in our metaphors between lions and dragons +and volcanoes, and yet none of them are too strong to represent Jethro +Bass when he heard that Isaac Worthington had had the teacher dismissed +from Brampton lower school. He did not stop to reason then that action +might distress her. The beast in him awoke again; the desire for +vengeance on a man whom he had hated most of his life, and who now had +dared to cause pain to the woman whom he loved with all his soul, and +even idolize, was too great to resist. He had no thought of resisting it, +for the waters of it swept over his soul like the Atlantic over a lost +continent. He would crush Isaac Worthington if it took the last breath +from his body. + +Jake went to the tannery house and received his orders--orders of which +he made a great mystery afterward at the store, although they consisted +simply of directions to be prepared to drive Jethro to Brampton the next +morning. But the look of the man had frightened Jake. He had never seen +vengeance so indelibly written on that face, and he had never before +realized the terrible power of vengeance. Mr. Wheeler returned from that +meeting in such a state of trepidation that he found it necessary to +accompany Rias to a certain keg in the cellar; after which he found his +tongue. His description of Jethro's appearance awed his hearers, and Jake +declared that he would not be in Isaac Worthington's shoes for all of +Isaac Worthington's money. There were others right here in Coniston, Jake +hinted, who might now find it convenient to emigrate to the far West. + +Jethro's face had not changed when Jake drove him out of Coniston the +next morning. Good Mr. Satterlee saw it, and felt that the visit he had +wished to make would have been useless; Mr. Amos Cuthbert and Mr. Sam +Price saw it, from a safe distance within the store, and it is a fact +that Mr. Price seriously thought of taking Mr. Wheeler's advice about a +residence in the West; Mr. Cuthbert, of a sterner nature, made up his +mind to be hung and quartered. A few minutes before Jethro walked into +his office over the livery stable, Senator Peleg Hartington would have +denied, with that peculiar and mournful scorn of which he was master, +that Jethro Bass could ever again have any influence over him. Peleg was, +indeed, at that moment preparing, in his own way, to make overtures to +the party of Isaac D. Worthington. Jethro walked into the office, leaving +Jake below with Mr. Sherman; and Senator Hartington was very glad he had +not made the overtures. And when he accompanied Jethro to the station +when he left for the capital, the senator felt that the eyes of men were +upon him. + +And Cynthia? Happily, Cynthia passed the day in ignorance that Jethro had +gone through Brampton. Ephraim, though he knew of it, did not speak of it +when he came home to his dinner; Mr. Graves had called, and informed her +of the meeting in the town hall that night. + +"It is our only chance," he said obdurately, in answer to her protests. +"We must lay the case before the people of Brampton. If they have not the +courage to right the wrong, and force your reinstatement through public +opinion, there is nothing more to be done." + +To Cynthia, the idea of having a mass meeting concerning herself was +particularly repellent. + +"Oh, Judge Graves!" she cried, "if there isn't any other way, please drop +the matter. There are plenty of teachers who will--be acceptable to +everybody." + +"Cynthia," said the judge, "I can understand that this publicity is very +painful to you. I beg you to remember that we are contending for a +principle. In such cases the individual must be sacrificed to the common +good." + +"But I cannot go to the meeting--I cannot." + +"No," said the judge; "I don't think that will be necessary." + +After he was gone, she could think of nothing but the horror of having +her name--yes, and her character--discussed in that public place; and it +seemed to her, if she listened, she could hear a clatter of tongues +throughout the length of Brampton Street, and that she must fain stop her +ears or go mad. The few ladies who called during the day out of kindness +or curiosity, or both, only added to her torture. She was not one who +could open her heart to acquaintances: the curious ones got but little +satisfaction, and the kind ones thought her cold, and they did not +perceive that she was really grateful for their little attentions. +Gratitude, on such occasions, does not always consist in pouring out +one's troubles in the laps of visitors. + +So the visitors went home, wondering whether it were worth while after +all to interest themselves in the cause of such a self-contained and +self-reliant young woman. In spite of all her efforts, Cynthia had never +wholly succeeded in making most of the Brampton ladies believe that she +did not secretly deem herself above them. They belonged to a reserved +race themselves; but Cynthia had a reserve which was even different from +their own. + +As night drew on the predictions of Mr. Worthington seemed likely to be +fulfilled, and it looked as if Judge Graves would have a useless bill to +pay for gas in the new town hall. The judge had never been a man who +could compel a following, and he had no magnetism with which to lead a +cause: the town tradesmen, especially those in the new brick block, would +be chary as to risking the displeasure of their best customer. At +half-past seven Mr. Graves: came in, alone, and sat on the platform +staring grimly at his gas. Is there a lecturer, or, a playwright, or a +politician, who has not, at one time or another, been in the judge's +place? Who cannot sympathize with him as he watched the thin and +hesitating stream of people out of the corner of his eye as they came in +at the door? The judge despised them with all his soul, but it is human +nature not to wish to sit in a hall or a theatre that is three-quarters +empty. + +At sixteen minutes to eight a mild excitement occurred, an incident of +some significance which served to detain many waverers. Senator Peleg +Hartington walked up the aisle, and the judge rose and shook him by the +hand, and as Deacon Hartington he was invited to sit on the platform. The +senator's personal influence was not to be ignored; and it had sufficed +to carry his district in the last election against the Worthington +forces, in spite of the abdication of Jethro Bass. Mr. Page, the editor +of the Clarion, Senator Hartington's organ, was also on the platform. But +where was Mr. Ives? Where was that Gamaliel who had been such a warm +partisan in the postoffice that morning? + +"Saw him outside the hall--wahn't but ten minutes ago," said Deacon +Hartington, sadly; "thought he was a-comin' in." + +Eight o'clock came, and no Mr. Ives; ten minutes past--fifteen minutes +past. If the truth must be told, Mr. Ives had been on the very threshold +of the hall, and one glance at the poor sprinkling of people there had +decided him. Mr. Ives had a natural aversion to being laughed at, and as +he walked back on the darker side of the street he wished heartily that +he had stuck to his original Gamaliel-advocacy of no interference, of +allowing the Supreme Judge to decide. Such opinions were inevitably just, +Mr. Ives was well aware, though not always handed down immediately. If he +were to humble the first citizen, Mr. Ives reflected that a better +opportunity might present itself. The whistle of the up-train served to +strengthen his resolution, for he was reminded thereby that his mill +often had occasion to ask favors of the Truro Railroad. + +In the meantime it was twenty minutes past eight in the town hall, and +Mr. Graves had not rapped for order. Deacon Hartington sat as motionless +as a stork on the borders of a glassy lake at sunrise, the judge had +begun seriously to estimate the gas bill, and Mr. Page had chewed up the +end of a pencil. There was one, at least, in the audience of whom the +judge could be sure. A certain old soldier in blue sat uncompromisingly +on the front bench with his hands crossed over the head of his stick; but +the ladies and gentlemen nearest the door were beginning to vanish, one +by one, silently as ghosts, when suddenly the judge sat up. He would have +rubbed his eyes, had he been that kind of a man. Four persons had entered +the hall--he was sure of it--and with no uncertain steps as if frightened +by its emptiness. No, they came boldly. And after them trooped others, +and still others were heard in the street beyond, not whispering, but +talking in the unmistakable tones of people who had more coming behind +them. Yes, and more came. It was no illusion, or delusion: there they +were filling the hall as if they meant to stay, and buzzing with +excitement. The judge was quivering with excitement now, but he, too, was +only a spectator of the drama. And what a drama, with a miracle-play for +Brampton! + +Mr. Page rose from his chair and leaned over the edge of the platform +that something might be whispered in his ear. The news, whatever it was, +was apparently electrifying, and after the first shock he turned to +impart it to Mr. Graves; but turned too late, for the judge had already +rapped for order and was clearing his throat. He could not account for +this extraordinary and unlooked-for audience, among whom he spied many +who had thought it wiser not to protest against the dictum of the first +citizen, and many who had professed to believe that the teacher's +connection with Jethro Bass was a good and sufficient reason for +dismissal. The judge was prepared to take advantage of the tide, whatever +its cause. + +"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "I take the liberty of calling this +meeting to order. And before a chairman be elected, I mean to ask your +indulgence to explain my purposes in requesting the use of this hall +to-night. In our system of government, the inalienable and most precious +gift--" + +Whatever the gift was, the judge never explained. He paused at the words, +and repeated them, and stopped altogether because no one was paying any +attention to him. The hall was almost full, the people had risen, with a +hum, and as one man had turned toward the door. Mr. Gamaliel Ives was +triumphantly marching down the aisle, and with him was--well, another +person. Nay, personage would perhaps be the better word. + +Let us go back for a moment. There descended from that train of which we +have heard the whistle a lady with features of no ordinary moulding, with +curls and a string bonnet and a cloak that seemed strangely to harmonize +with the lady's character. She had the way of one in authority, and Mr. +Sherman himself ran to open the door of his only closed carriage, and the +driver galloped off with her all the way to the Brampton House. Once +there, the lady seized the pen as a soldier seizes the sword, and wrote +her name in most uncompromising characters on the register, Miss Lucretia +Penniman, Boston. Then she marched up to her room. + +Miss Lucretia Penniman, author of the "Hymn to Coniston," in the +reflected glory of whose fame Brampton had shone for thirty years! Whose +name was lauded and whose poem was recited at every Fourth of July +celebration, that the very children might learn it and honor its +composer! Stratford-on-Avon is not prouder of Shakespeare than Brampton +of Miss Lucretia, and now she was come back, unheralded, to her +birthplace. Mr. Raines, the clerk, looked at the handwriting on the book, +and would not believe his own sight until it was vouched for by sundry +citizens who had followed the lady from the station--on foot. And then +there was a to-do. + +Send for Mr. Gamaliel Ives; send for Miss Bruce, the librarian; send for +Mr. Page, editor of the Clarion, and notify the first citizen. He, +indeed, could not be sent for, but had he known of her coming he would +undoubtedly have had her met at the portals and presented with the keys +in gold. Up and down the street flew the news which overshadowed and +blotted out all other, and the poor little school-teacher was forgotten. + +One of these notables was at hand, though he did not deserve to be. Mr. +Gamaliel Ives sent up his card to Miss Lucretia, and was shown +deferentially into the parlor, where he sat mopping his brow and growing +hot and cold by turns. How would the celebrity treat him? The celebrity +herself answered the question by entering the room in such stately manner +as he had expected, to the rustle of the bombazine. Whereupon Mr. Ives +bounced out of his chair and bowed, though his body was not formed to +bend that way. + +"Miss Penniman," he exclaimed, "what an honor for Brampton! And what a +pleasure, the greater because so unexpected! How cruel not to have given +us warning, and we could have greeted you as your great fame deserves! +You could never take time from your great duties to accept the +invitations of our literary committee, alas! But now that you are here, +you will find a warm welcome, Miss Penniman. How long it has been--thirty +years,--you see I know it to a day, thirty years since you left us. +Thirty years, I may say, we have kept burning the vestal fire in your +worship, hoping for this hour." + +Miss Lucretia may have had her own ideas about the propriety of the +reference to the vestal fire. + +"Gamaliel," she said sharply, "straighten up and don't talk nonsense to +me. I've had you on my knee, and I knew your mother and father." + +Gamaliel did straighten up, as though Miss Lucretia had applied a lump of +ice to the small of his back. So it is when the literary deities, vestal +or otherwise, return to their Stratfords. There are generally surprises +in store for the people they have had on their knees, and for others. + +"Gamaliel," said Miss Lucretia, "I want to see the prudential committee +for the village district." + +"The prudential committee!" Mr. Ives fairly shrieked the words in his +astonishment. + +"I tried to speak plainly," said Miss Lucretia. "Who are on that +committee?" + +"Ezra Graves," said Mr. Ives, as though mechanically compelled, for his +head was spinning round. "Ezra Graves always has run it, until now. But +he's in the town hall." + +"What's he doing there?" + +Mr. Ives was no fool. Some inkling of the facts began to shoot through +his brain, and he saw his chance. + +"He called a mass meeting to protest against the dismissal of a teacher." + +"Gamaliel," said Miss Lucretia, "you will conduct me to that meeting. I +will get my cloak." + +Mr. Ives wasted no time in the interval, and he fairly ran out into the +office. Miss Lucretia Penniman was in town, and would attend the mass +meeting. Now, indeed, it was to be a mass meeting. Away flew the tidings, +broadcast, and people threw off their carpet slippers and dressing gowns, +and some who had gone to bed got up again. Mr. Dodd heard it, and changed +his shoes three times, and his intentions three times three. Should he +go, or should he not? Already he heard in imagination the first distant +note of the populace, and he was not of the metal to defend a Bastille or +a Louvre for his royal master with the last drop of his blood. + +In the meantime Gamaliel Ives was conducting Miss Lucretia toward, the +town hall, and speaking in no measured tones of indignation of the +cringing, truckling qualities of that very Mr. Dodd. The injustice to +Miss Wetherell, which Mr. Ives explained as well as he could, made his +blood boil: so he declared. + +And note we are back again at the meeting, when the judge, with his hand +on his Adam's apple, is pronouncing the word "gift." Mr. Ives is +triumphantly marching down the aisle, escorting the celebrity of Brampton +to the platform, and quite aware of the heart burnings of his +fellow-citizens on the benches. And Miss Lucretia, with that stern +composure with which celebrities accept public situations, follows up the +steps as of right and takes the chair he assigns her beside the chairman. +The judge, still grasping his Adam's apple, stares at the newcomer in +amazement, and recognizes her in spite of the years, and trembles. Miss +Lucretia Penniman! Blucher was not more welcome to Wellington, or +Lafayette to Washington, than was Miss Lucretia to Ezra Graves as he +turned his back on the audience and bowed to her deferentially. Then he +turned again, cleared his throat once more to collect his senses, and was +about to utter the familiar words, "We have with us tonight," when they +were taken out of his mouth--taken out of his mouth by one who had in all +conscience stolen enough thunder for one man,--Mr. Gamaliel Ives. + +"Mr. Chairman," said Mr. Ives, taking a slight dropping of the judge's +lower jaw for recognition, "and ladies and gentlemen of Brampton. It is +our great good fortune to have with us to-night, most unexpectedly, one +of whom Brampton is, and for many years has been, justly proud." +(Cheers.) "One whose career Brampton has followed with a mother's eyes +and with a mother's heart. One who has chosen a broader field for the +exercise of those great powers with which Nature endowed her than +Brampton could give. One who has taken her place among the luminaries of +literature of her time." (Cheers.) "One who has done more than any other +woman of her generation toward the uplifting of the sex which she +honors." (Cheers and clapping of hands.) "And one who, though her lot has +fallen among the great, has not forgotten the home of her childhood. For +has she not written those beautiful lines which we all know by heart? + + 'Ah, Coniston! Thy lordly form I see + Before mine eyes in exile drear.' + +"Mr. Chairman and fellow-townsmen and women, I have the extreme honor of +introducing to you one whom we all love and revere, the author of the +'Hymn to Coniston,' the editor of the Woman's Hour, Miss Lucretia +Penniman.'" (Loud and long-continued applause.) + +Well might Brampton be proud, too, of Gamaliel Ives, president of its +literary club, who could make such a speech as this on such short notice. +If the truth be told, the literary club had sent Miss Lucretia no less +than seven invitations, and this was the speech Mr. Ives had intended to +make on those seven occasions. It was unquestionably a neat speech, and +Judge Graves or no other chairman should cheat him out of making it. Mr. +Ives, with a wave of his hand toward the celebrity, sat down by no means +dissatisfied with himself. What did he care how the judge glared. He did +not see how stiffly Miss Lucretia sat in her chair. She could not take +him on her knee then, but she would have liked to. + +Miss Lucretia rose, and stood quite as stiffly as she had sat, and the +judge rose, too. He was very angry, but this was not the time to get even +with Mr. Ives. As it turned out, he did not need to bother about getting +even. + +"Ladies and gentlemen," said he, "in the absence of any other chairman I +take pleasure in introducing to you Miss Lucretia Penniman." + +More applause was started, but Miss Lucretia put a stop to it by the +lifting of a hand. Then there was a breathless silence. Then she cast her +eyes around the hall, as though daring any one to break that silence, and +finally they rested upon Mr. Ives. + +"Mr. Chairman," she said, with an inclination toward the judge, "my +friends--for I hope you will be my friends when I have finished" (Miss +Lucretia made it quite clear by her tone that it entirely depended upon +them whether they would be or not), "I understood when I came here that +this was to be a mass meeting to protest against an injustice, and not a +feast of literature and oratory, as Gamaliel Ives seems to suppose." + +She paused, and when the first shock of amazement was past an audible +titter ran through the audience, and Mr. Ives squirmed visibly. + +"Am I right, Mr. Chairman?" asked Miss Lucretia. + +"You are unquestionably right, Miss Penniman," answered the chairman, +rising, "unquestionably." + +"Then I will proceed," said Miss Lucretia. "I wrote the Hymn to Coniston' +many years ago, when I was younger, and yet it is true that I have always +remembered Brampton with kindly feelings. The friends of our youth are +dear to us. We look indulgently upon their failings, even as they do on +ours. I have scanned the faces here in the hall to-night, and there are +some that have not changed beyond recognition in thirty years. Ezra +Graves I remember, and it is a pleasure to see him in that chair." (Mr. +Graves inclined his head, reverently. None knew how the inner man +exulted.) "But there was one who was often in Brampton in those days," +Miss Lucretia continued, "whom we all loved and with whom we found no +fault, and I confess that when I have thought of Brampton I have oftenest +thought of her. Her name," said Miss Lucretia, her hand now in the +reticule, "her name was Cynthia Ware." + +There was a decided stir among the audience, and many leaned forward to +catch every word. + +"Even old people may have an ideal," said Miss Lucretia, "and you will +forgive me for speaking of mine. Where should I speak of it, if not in +this village, among those who knew her and among their children? Cynthia +Ware, although she was younger than I, has been my ideal, and is still. +She was the daughter of the Rev. Samuel Ware of Coniston, and a +descendant of Captain Timothy Prescott, whom General Stark called 'Honest +Tim.' She was, to me, all that a woman should be, in intellect, in her +scorn of all that is ignoble and false, and in her loyalty to her +friends." Here the handkerchief came out of the reticule. "She went to +Boston to teach school, and some time afterward I was offered a position +in New York, and I never saw her again. But she married in Boston a man +of learning and literary attainments, though his health was feeble and he +was poor, William Wetherell." (Another stir.) "Mr. Wetherell was a +gentleman--Cynthia Ware could have married no other--and he came of good +and honorable people in Portsmouth. Very recently I read a collection of +letters which he wrote to the Newcastle Guardian, which some of you may +know. I did not trust my own judgment as to those letters, but I took +them to an author whose name is known wherever English is spoken, but +which I will not mention. And the author expressed it as his opinion, in +writing to me, that William Wetherell was undoubtedly a genius of a high +order, and that he would have been so recognized if life had given him a +chance. Mr. Wetherell, after his wife died, was taken in a dying +condition to Coniston, where he was forced, in order to earn his living, +to become the storekeeper there. But he took his books with him, and +found time to write the letters of which I have spoken, and to give his +daughter an early education such as few girls have. + +"My friends, I am rejoiced to see that the spirit of justice and the +sense of right are as strong in Brampton as they used to be--strong +enough to fill this town hall to overflowing because a teacher has been +wrongly--yes, and iniquitously--dismissed from the lower school." (Here +there was a considerable stir, and many wondered whether Miss Lucretia +was aware of the irony in her words.) "I say wrongly and iniquitously, +because I have had the opportunity in Boston this winter of learning to +know and love that teacher. I am not given to exaggeration, my friends, +and when I tell you that I know her, that her character is as high and +pure as her mother's, I can say no more. I am here to tell you this +to-night because I do not believe you know her as I do. During the +seventy years I have lived I have grown to have but little faith in +outward demonstration, to believe in deeds and attainments rather than +expressions. And as for her fitness to teach, I believe that even the +prudential committee could find no fault with that." (I wonder whether +Mr. Dodd was in the back of the hall.) "I can find no fault with it. I am +constantly called upon to recommend teachers, and I tell you I should +have no hesitation in sending Cynthia Wetherell to a high school, young +as she is." + +"And now, my friends, why was she dismissed? I have heard the facts, +though not from her. Cynthia Wetherell does not know that I have come to +Brampton, unless somebody has told her, and did not know that I was +coming. I have heard the facts, and I find it difficult to believe that +so great a wrong could be attempted against a woman, and if the name of +Cynthia Wetherell had meant no more to me than the letters in it I should +have travelled twice as far as Brampton, old as I am, to do my utmost to +right that wrong. I give you my word of honor that I have never been so +indignant in my life. I do not come here to stir up enmities among you, +and I will mention no more names. I prefer to believe that the prudential +committee of this district has made a mistake, the gravity of which they +must now realize, and that they will reinstate Cynthia Wetherell +to-morrow. And if they should not of their own free will, I have only to +look around this meeting to be convinced that they will be compelled to. +Compelled to, my friends, by the sense of justice and the righteous +indignation of the citizens of Brampton." + +Miss Lucretia sat down, her strong face alight with the spirit that was +in her. Not the least of the compelling forces in this world is righteous +anger, and when it is exercised by a man or a woman whose life has been a +continual warfare against the pests of wrong, it is well-nigh +irresistible. While you could count five seconds the audience sat silent, +and then began such tumult and applause as had never been seen in +Brampton--all started, so it is said, by an old soldier in the front row +with his stick. Isaac D. Worthington, sitting alone in the library of his +mansion, heard it, and had no need to send for Mr. Flint to ask what it +was, or who it was had fired the Third Estate. And Mr. Dodd heard it. He +may have been in the hall, but now he sat at home, seeing visions of the +lantern, and he would have fled to the palace had he thought to get any +sympathy from his sovereign. No, Mr. Dodd did not hold the Bastille or +even fight for it. Another and a better man gave up the keys, for heroes +are sometimes hidden away in meek and retiring people who wear spectacles +and have a stoop to their shoulders. Long before the excitement died away +a dozen men were on their feet shouting at the chairman, and among them +was the tall, stooping man with spectacles. He did not shout, but Judge +Graves saw him and made up his mind that this was the man to speak. The +chairman raised his hand and rapped with his gavel, and at length he had +obtained silence. + +"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "I am going to recognize Mr. Hill of the +prudential committee, and ask him to step up on the platform." + +There fell another silence, as absolute as the first, when Mr. Hill +walked down the aisle and climbed the steps. Indeed, people were +stupefied, for the feed dealer was a man who had never opened his mouth +in town-meeting; who had never taken an initiative of any kind; who had +allowed other men to take advantage of him, and had never resented it. +And now he was going to speak. Would he defend the prudential committee, +or would he declare for the teacher? Either course, in Mr. Hill's case, +required courage, and he had never been credited with any. If Mr. Hill +was going to speak at all, he was going to straddle. + +He reached the platform, bowed irresolutely to the chairman, and then +stood awkwardly with one knee bent, peering at his audience over his +glasses. He began without any address whatever. + +"I want to say," he began in a low voice, "that I had no intention of +coming to this meeting. And I am going to confess--I am going to confess +that I was afraid to come." He raised his voice a little defiantly a the +words, and paused. One could almost hear the people breathing. "I was +afraid to come for fear that I should do the very thing I am going to do +now. And yet I was impelled to come. I want to say that my conscience has +not been clear since, as a member of the prudential committee, I gave my +consent to the dismissal of Miss Wetherell. I know that I was influenced +by personal and selfish considerations which should have had no weight. +And after listening to Miss Penniman I take this opportunity to declare, +of my own free will, that I will add my vote to that of Judge Graves to +reinstate Miss Wetherell." + +Mr. Hill bowed slightly, and was about to descend the steps when the +chairman, throwing parliamentary dignity to the winds, arose and seized +the feed dealer's hand. And the people in the hall almost as one man +sprang to their feet and cheered, and some--Ephraim Prescott among +these--even waved their hats and shouted Mr. Hill's name. A New England +audience does not frequently forget itself, but there were few present +who did not understand the heroism of the man's confession, who were not +carried away by the simple and dramatic dignity of it. He had no need to +mention Mr. Worthington's name, or specify the nature of his obligations +to that gentleman. In that hour Jonathan Hill rose high in the respect of +Brampton, and some pressed into the aisle to congratulate him on his way +back to his seat. Not a few were grateful to him for another reason. He +had relieved the meeting of the necessity of taking any further action: +of putting their names, for instance, in their enthusiasm to a paper +which the first citizen might see. + +Judge Graves, whose sense of a climax was acute, rapped for order. + +"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, in a voice not wholly free from emotion, +"you will all wish to pay your respects to the famous lady, who is with +us. I see that the Rev. Mr. Sweet is present, and I suggest that we +adjourn, after he has favored us with a prayer." + +As the minister came forward, Deacon Hartington dropped his head and +began to flutter his eyelids. The Rev. Mr. Sweet prayed, and so was +brought to an end the most exciting meeting ever held in Brampton town +hall. + +But Miss Lucretia did not like being called "a famous lady." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +While Miss Lucretia was standing, unwillingly enough, listening to the +speeches that were poured into her ear by various members of the +audience, receiving the incense and myrrh to which so great a celebrity +was entitled, the old soldier hobbled away to his little house as fast as +his three legs would carry him. Only one event in his life had eclipsed +this in happiness--the interview in front of the White House. He rapped +on the window with his stick, thereby frightening Cynthia half out of her +wits as she sat musing sorrowfully by the fire. + +"Cousin Ephraim," she said, taking off his corded hat, "what in the +world's the matter with you?" + +"You're a schoolmarm again, Cynthy." + +"Do you mean to say?" + +"Miss Lucretia Penniman done it." + +"Miss Lucretia Penniman!" Cynthia began to think his rheumatism was +driving him out of his mind. + +"You bet. 'Long toward the openin' of the engagement there wahn't +scarcely anybody thar but me, and they was a-goin'. But they come fast +enough when they l'arned she was in town, and she blew 'em up higher'n +the Petersburg crater. Great Tecumseh, there's a woman! Next to General +Grant, I'd sooner shake her hand than anybody's livin'." + +"Do you mean to say that Miss Lucretia is in Brampton and spoke at the +mass meeting?" + +"Spoke!" exclaimed Ephraim, "callate she did--some. Tore 'em all up. +They'd a hung Isaac D. Worthington or Levi Dodd if they'd a had 'em +thar." + +Cynthia, striving to be calm herself, got him into a chair and took his +stick and straightened out his leg, and then Ephraim told her the story, +and it lost no dramatic effect in his telling. He would have talked all +night. But at length the sound of wheels was heard in the street, Cynthia +flew to the door, and a familiar voice came out of the darkness. + +"You need not wait, Gamaliel. No, thank you, I think I will stay at the +hotel." + +Gamaliel was still protesting when Miss Lucretia came in and seized +Cynthia in her arms, and the door was closed behind her. + +"Oh, Miss Lucretia, why did you come?" said Cynthia, "if I had known you +would do such a thing, I should never have written that letter. I have +been sorry to-day that I did write it, and now I'm sorrier than ever." + +"Aren't you glad to see me?" demanded Miss Lucretia. + +"Miss Lucretia!" + +"What are friends for?" asked Miss Lucretia, patting her hand. "If you +had known how I wished to see you, Cynthia, and I thought a little trip +would be good for such a provincial Bostonian as I am. Dear, dear, I +remember this house. It used to belong to Gabriel Post in my time, and +right across from it was the Social Library, where I have spent so many +pleasant hours with your mother. And this is Ephraim Prescott. I thought +it was, when I saw him sitting in the front row, and I think he must have +been very lonesome there at one time." + +"Yes, ma'am," said Ephraim, giving her his gnarled fingers; "I was just +sayin' to Cynthy that I'd ruther shake your hand than anybody's livin' +exceptin' General Grant." + +"And I'd rather shake yours than the General's," said Miss Lucretia, for +the Woman's Hour had taken the opposition side in a certain recent public +question concerning women. + +"If you'd a fit with him, you wouldn't say that, Miss Lucrety." + +"I haven't a word to say against his fighting qualities," she replied. + +"Guess the General might say the same of you," said Ephraim. "If you'd a +b'en a man, I callate you'd a come out of the war with two stars on your +shoulder. Godfrey, Miss Lucrety, you'd ought to've b'en a man." + +"A man!" cried Miss Lucretia, "and 'stars on my shoulder'! I think this +kind of talk has gone far enough, Ephraim Prescott." + +"Cousin Eph," said Cynthia, laughing, "you're no match for Miss Lucretia, +and it's long past your bedtime." + +"A man!" repeated Miss Lucretia, after he had retired, and after Cynthia +had tried to express her gratitude and had been silenced. They sat side +by side in front of the chimney. "I suppose he meant that as a +compliment. I never yet saw the man I couldn't back down, and I haven't +any patience with a woman who gives in to them." Miss Lucretia poked +vigorously a log which had fallen down, as though that were a man, too, +and she was putting him back in his proper place. + +Cynthia, strange to say, did not reply to this remark. + +"Cynthia," said Miss Lucretia, abruptly, "you don't mean to say that you +are in love!" + +Cynthia drew a long breath, and grew as red as the embers. + +"Miss Lucretia!" she exclaimed, in astonishment and dismay. + +"Well," Miss Lucretia said, "I should have thought you could have gotten +along, for a while at least, without anything of that kind. My dear," she +said leaning toward Cynthia, "who is he?" + +Cynthia turned away. She found it very hard to speak of her troubles, +even to Miss Lucretia, and she would have kept this secret even from +Jethro, had it been possible. + +"You must let him know his place," said Miss Lucretia, "and I hope he is +in some degree worthy of you." + +"I do not intend to marry him," said Cynthia, with head still turned +away. + +It was now Miss Lucretia who was silent. + +"I came near getting married once," she said presently, with +characteristic abruptness. + +"You!" cried Cynthia, looking around in amazement. + +"You see, I am franker than you, my dear--though I never told any one +else. I believe you can keep a secret." + +"Of course I can. Who--was it anyone in Brampton, Miss Lucretia?" The +question was out before Cynthia realized its import. She was turning the +tables with a vengeance. + +"It was Ezra Graves," said Miss Lucretia. + +"Ezra Graves!" And then Cynthia pressed Miss Lucretia's hand in silence, +thinking how strange it was that both of them should have been her +champions that evening. + +Miss Lucretia poked the fire again. + +"It was shortly after that, when I went to Boston, that I wrote the 'Hymn +to Coniston.' I suppose we must all be fools once or twice, or we should +not be human." + +"And--weren't you ever--sorry?" asked Cynthia. + +Again there was a silence. + +"I could not have done the work I have had to do in the world if I had +married. But I have often wondered whether that work was worth the while. +Such a feeling must come over all workers, occasionally. Yes," said Miss +Lucretia, "there have been times when I have been sorry, my dear, though +I have never confessed it to another soul. I am telling you this for your +own good--not mine. If you have the love of a good man, Cynthia, be +careful what you do with it." + +The tears had come into Cynthia's eyes. + +"I should have told you, Miss Lucretia," she faltered. "If I could have +married him, it would have been easier." + +"Why can't you marry him?" demanded Miss Lucretia, sharply--to hide her +own emotion. + +"His name," said Cynthia, "is Bob Worthington:" + +"Isaac Worthington's son?" + +"Yes." + +Another silence, Miss Lucretia being utterly unable to say anything for a +space. + +"Is he a good man?" + +Cynthia was on the point of indignant-protest, but she stopped herself in +time. + +"I will tell you what he has done," she answered, "and then you shall +judge for yourself." + +And she told Miss Lucretia, simply, all that Bob had done, and all that +she herself had done. + +"He is like his mother, Sarah Hollingsworth; I knew her well," said Miss +Lucretia. "If Isaac Worthington were a man, he would be down on his knees +begging you to marry his son. He tried hard enough to marry your own +mother." + +"My mother!" exclaimed Cynthia, who had never believed that rumor. + +"Yes," said Miss Lucretia, "and you may thank your stars he didn't +succeed. I mistrusted him when he was a young man, and now I know that he +hasn't changed. He is a coward and a hypocrite." + +Cynthia could not deny this. + +"And yet," she said, after a moment's silence, "I am sure you will say +that I have been right. My own conscience tells me that it is wrong to +deprive Bob of his inheritance, and to separate him from his father, +whatever his father--may be." + +"We shall see what happens in five years," said Miss Lucretia. + +"Five years!" said Cynthia, in spite of herself. + +"Jacob served seven for Rachel," answered Miss Lucretia; "that period is +scarcely too short to test a man, and you are both young." + +"No," said Cynthia, "I cannot marry him, Miss Lucretia. The world would +accuse me of design, and I feel that I should not be happy. I am sure +that he would never reproach me, even if things went wrong, but--the day +might come when--when he would wish that it had been otherwise." + +Miss Lucretia kissed her. + +"You are very young, my dear," she repeated, "and none of us may say what +changes time may bring forth. And now I must go." + +Cynthia insisted upon walking with her friend down the street to the +hotel--an undertaking that was without danger in Brampton. And it was +only a step, after all. A late moon floated in the sky, throwing in +relief the shadow of the Worthington mansion against the white patches of +snow. A light was still burning in the library. + +The next morning after breakfast Miss Lucretia appeared at the little +house, and informed Cynthia that she would walk to school with her. + +"But I have not yet been notified by the Committee," said Cynthia. There +was a knock at the door, and in walked Judge Ezra Graves. Miss Lucretia +may have blushed, but it is certain that Cynthia did. Never had she seen +the judge so spick and span, and he wore the broadcloth coat he usually +reserved for Sundays. He paused at the threshold, with his hand on his +Adam's apple. + +"Good morning, ladies," he said, and looked shyly at Miss Lucretia and +cleared his throat, and spoke with the elaborate decorum he used on +occasions, "Miss Penniman, I wish to thank you again for your noble +action of last evening." + +"Don't 'Miss Penniman' me, Ezra Graves," retorted Miss Lucretia; "the +only noble action I know of was poor Jonathan Hill's--unless it was +paying for the gas." + +This was the way in which Miss Lucretia treated her lover after thirty +years! Cynthia thought of what the lady had said to her a few hours +since, by this very fire, and began to believe she must have dreamed it. +Fires look very differently at night--and sometimes burn brighter then. +The judge parted his coat tails, and seated himself on the wooden edge of +a cane-bottomed chair. + +"Lucretia," he said, "you haven't changed." + +"You have, Ezra," she replied, looking at the Adam's apple. + +"I'm an old man," said Ezra Graves. + +Cynthia could not help thinking that he was a very different man, in Miss +Lucretia's presence, than when at the head of the prudential committee. + +"Ezra," said Miss Lucretia, "for a man you do very well." + +The judge smiled. + +"Thank you, Lucretia," said he. He seemed to appreciate the full extent +of the compliment. + +"Judge Graves," said Cynthia, "I can tell you how good you are, at least, +and thank you for your great kindness to me, which I shall never forget." + +She took his withered hands from his knees and pressed them. He returned +the pressure, and then searched his coat tails, found a handkerchief, and +blew his nose violently. + +"I merely did my duty, Miss Wetherell," he said. "I would not wilfully +submit to a wrong." + +"You called me Cynthia yesterday." + +"So I did," he answered, "so I did." Then he looked at Miss Lucretia. + +"Ezra," said that lady, smiling a little, "I don't believe you have +changed, after all." + +What she meant by that nobody knows. + +"I had thought, Cynthia," said the judge, "that it might be more +comfortable for you to have me go to the school with you. That is the +reason for my early call." + +"Judge Graves, I do appreciate your kindness," said Cynthia; "I hope you +won't think I'm rude if I say I'd rather go alone." + +"On the contrary, my dear," replied the judge, "I think I can understand +and esteem your feeling in the matter, and it shall be as you wish." + +"Then I think I had better be going," said Cynthia. The judge rose in +alarm at the words, but she put her hand on his shoulder. "Won't you sit +down and stay," she begged, "you haven't seen Miss Lucretia for how many +years,--thirty, isn't it?" + +Again he glanced at Miss Lucretia, uncertainly. "Sit down, Ezra," she +commanded, "and for goodness' sake don't be afraid of the cane bottom. +You won't go through it. I should like to talk to you, and most of the +gossips of our day are dead. I shall stay in Brampton to-day, Cynthia, +and eat supper with you here this evening." + +Cynthia, as she went out of the door, wondered what they would talk +about. Then she turned toward the school. It was not the March wind that +burned her cheeks; as she thought of the mass meeting the night before, +which was all about her, she wished she might go to school that morning +through the woods and pasture lots rather than down Brampton Street. +What--what would Bob say when he heard of the meeting? Would he come +again to Brampton? If he did, she would run away to Boston with Miss +Lucretia. Every day it had been a trial to pass the Worthington house, +but she could not cross the wide street to avoid it. She hurried a +little, unconsciously, when she came to it, for there was Mr. Worthington +on the steps talking to Mr. Flint. How he must hate her now, Cynthia +reflected! He did not so much as look up when she passed. + +The other citizens whom she met made up for Mr. Worthington's coldness, +and gave her a hearty greeting, and some stopped to offer their +congratulations. Cynthia did not pause to philosophize: she was learning +to accept the world as it was, and hurried swiftly on to the little +schoolhouse. The children saw her coming, and ran to meet her and +escorted her triumphantly in at the door. Of their welcome she could be +sure. Thus she became again teacher of the lower school. + +How the judge and Miss Lucretia got along that morning, Cynthia never +knew. Miss Lucretia spent the day in her old home, submitting to +hero-worship, and attended an evening party in her honor at Mr. Gamaliel +Ives's house--a mansion not so large as the first citizen's, though it +had two bay-windows and was not altogether unimposing. The first citizen, +needless to say, was not there, but the rest of the elite attended. Mr. +Ives will tell you all about the entertainment if you go to Brampton, but +the real reason Miss Lucretia consented to go was to please Lucy Baird, +who was Gamaliel's wife, and to chat with certain old friends whom she +had not seen. The next morning she called at the school to bid Cynthia +good-by, and to whisper something in her ear which made her very red +before all the scholars. She shook her head when Miss Lucretia said it, +for it had to do with an incident in the 29th chapter of Genesis. + +While Jonathan Hill was being made a hero of in the little two-by-four +office of the feed store the morning after the mass meeting (though +nobody offered to take over his mortgage), Mr. Dodd was complaining to +his wife of shooting pains, and "callated" he would stay at home that +day. + +"Shootin' fiddlesticks!" said Mrs. Dodd. "Get along down to the store and +face the music, Levi Dodd. You'd have had shootin' pains if you'd a went +to the meetin'." + +"I might stop by at Mr. Worthington's house and explain how powerless I +was--" + +"For goodness' sake git out, Levi. I guess he knows how powerless you are +with your shootin' pains. If you only could forget Isaac D. Worthington +for three minutes, you wouldn't have 'em." + +Mr. Dodd's two clerks saw him enter the store by the back door and he was +very much interested in the new ploughs which were piled up in crates +outside of it. Then he disappeared into his office and shut the door, and +supposedly became very much absorbed in book-keeping. If any one called, +he was out--any one. Plenty of people did call, but he was not +disturbed--until ten o'clock. Mr. Dodd had a very sensitive ear, and he +could often recognize a man by his step, and this man he recognized. + +"Where's Mr. Dodd?" demanded the owner of the step, indignantly. + +"He's out, Mr. Worthington. Anything I can do for you, Mr. Worthington?" + +"You can tell him to come up to my house the moment he comes in." + +Unfortunately Mr. Dodd in the office had got into a strained position. He +found it necessary to move a little; the day-book fell heavily to the +floor, and the perspiration popped out all over his forehead. Come out, +Levi Dodd. The Bastille is taken, but there are other fortresses still in +the royal hands where you may be confined. + +"Who's in the office?" + +"I don't know, sir," answered the clerk, winking at his companion, who +was sorting nails. + +In three strides the great man had his hand on the office door and had +flung it open, disclosing the culprit cowering over the day-book on the +floor. + +"Mr. Dodd," cried the first citizen, "what do you mean by--?" + +Some natures, when terrified, are struck dumb. Mr. Dodd's was the kind +which bursts into speech. + +"I couldn't help it, Mr. Worthington," he cried, "they would have it. I +don't know what got into 'em. They lost their senses, Mr. Worthington, +plumb lost their senses. If you'd a b'en there, you might have brought +'em to. I tried to git the floor, but Ezry Graves--" + +"Confound Ezra Graves, and wait till I have done, can't you," interrupted +the first citizen, angrily. "What do you mean by putting a bath-tub into +my house with the tin loose, so that I cut my leg on it?" + +Mr. Dodd nearly fainted from sheer relief. + +"I'll put a new one in to-day, right now," he gasped. + +"See that you do," said the first citizen, "and if I lose my leg, I'll +sue you for a hundred thousand dollars." + +"I was a-goin' to explain about them losin' their heads at the mass +meetin'--" + +"Damn their heads!" said the first citizen. "And yours, too," he may have +added under his breath as he stalked out. It was not worth a swing of the +executioner's axe in these times of war. News had arrived from the state +capital that morning of which Mr. Dodd knew nothing. Certain feudal +chiefs from the North Country, of whose allegiance Mr. Worthington had +felt sure, had obeyed the summons of their old sovereign, Jethro Bass, +and had come South to hold a conclave under him at the Pelican. Those +chiefs of the North Country, with their clans behind them as one man, +what a power they were in the state! What magnificent qualities they had, +in battle or strategy, and how cunning and shrewd was their generalship! +Year after year they came down from their mountains and fought shoulder +to shoulder, and year after year they carried back the lion's share of +the spoils between them. The great South, as a whole, was powerless to +resist them, for there could be no lasting alliance between Harwich and +Brampton and Newcastle and Gosport. Now their king had come back, and the +North Country men were rallying again to his standard. No wonder that +Levi Dodd's head, poor thing that it was, was safe for a while. + +"Organize what you have left, and be quick about it," said Mr. Flint, +when the news had come, and they sat in the library planning a new +campaign in the face of this evident defection. There was no time to cry +over spilt milk or reinstated school-teachers. The messages flew far and +wide to the manufacturing towns to range their guilds into line for the +railroads. The seneschal wrote the messages, and sent the summons to the +sleek men of the cities, and let it be known that the coffers were full +and not too tightly sealed, that the faithful should not lack for the +sinews of war. Mr. Flint found time, too, to write some carefully worded +but nevertheless convincing articles for the Newcastle Guardian, very +damaging to certain commanders who had proved unfaithful. + +"Flint," said Mr. Worthington, when they had worked far into the night, +"if Bass beats us, I'm a crippled man." + +"And if you postpone the fight now that you have begun it? What then?" + +The answer, Mr. Worthington knew, was the same either way. He did not +repeat it. He went to his bed, but not to sleep for many hours, and when +he came down to his breakfast in the morning, he was in no mood to read +the letter from Cambridge which Mrs. Holden had put on his plate. But he +did read it, with what anger and bitterness may be imagined. There was +the ultimatum,--respectful, even affectionate, but firm. "I know that you +will, in all probability, disinherit me as you say, and I tell you +honestly that I regret the necessity of quarrelling with you more than I +do the money. I do not pretend to say that I despise money, and I like +the things that it buys, but the woman I love is more to me than all that +you have." + +Mr. Worthington laid the letter down, and there came irresistibly to his +mind something that his wife had said to him before she died, shortly +after they had moved into the mansion. "Dudley, how happy we used to be +together before we were rich!" Money had not been everything to Sarah +Worthington, either. But now no tender wave of feeling swept over him as +he recalled those words. He was thinking of what weapon he had to prevent +the marriage beyond that which was now useless--disinheritance. He would +disinherit Bob, and that very day. He would punish his son to the utmost +of his power for marrying the ward of Jethro Bass. He wondered bitterly, +in case a certain event occurred, whether he would have much to alienate. + +When Mr. Flint arrived, fresh as usual in spite of the work he had +accomplished and the cigars he had smoked the night before, Mr. +Worthington still had the letter in his hand, and was pacing his library +floor, and broke into a tirade against his son. + +"After all I have done for him, building up for him a position and a +fortune that is only surpassed by young Duncan's, to treat me in this +way, to drag down the name of Worthington in the mire. I'll never forgive +him. I'll send for Dixon and leave the money for a hospital in Brampton. +Can't you suggest any way out of this, Flint?" + +"No," said Flint, "not now. The only chance you have is to ignore the +thing from now on. He may get tired of her--I've known such things to +happen." + +"When she hears that I've disinherited him, she will get tired of him," +declared Mr. Worthington. + +"Try it and see, if you like," said Flint. + +"Look here, Flint, if the woman has a spark of decent feeling, as you +seem to think, I'll send for her and tell her that she will ruin Robert +if she marries him." Mr. Worthington always spoke of his son as "Robert." + +"You ought to have thought of that before the mass meeting. Perhaps it +would have done some good then." + +"Because this Penniman woman has stirred people up--is that what you +mean? I don't care anything about that. Money counts in the long run." + +"If money counted with this school-teacher, it would be a simple matter. +I think you'll find it doesn't." + +"I've known you to make some serious mistakes," snapped Mr. Worthington. + +"Then why do you ask for my advice?" + +"I'll send for her, and appeal to her better nature," said Mr. +Worthington, with an unconscious and sublime irony. + +Flint gave no sign that he heard. Mr. Worthington seated himself at his +desk, and after some thought wrote on a piece of note-paper the following +lines: "My dear Miss Wetherell, I should be greatly obliged if you would +find it convenient to call at my house at eight o'clock this evening," +and signed them, "Sincerely Yours." He sealed them up in an envelope and +addressed it to Miss Wetherell, at the schoolhouse; and handed it to Mr. +Flint. That gentleman got as far as the door, and then he hesitated and +turned. + +"There is just one way out of this for you, that I can see, Mr. +Worthington," he said. "It's a desperate measure, but it's worth thinking +about." + +"What's that?" + +It took some courage for Mr. Flint, to make the suggestion. "The girl's a +good girl, well educated, and by no means bad looking. Bob might do a +thousand times worse. Give your consent to the marriage, and Jethro Bass +will go back to Coniston." + +It was wisdom such as few lords get from their seneschals, but Isaac D. +Worthington did not so recognize it. His anger rose and took away his +breath as he listened to it. + +"I will never give my consent to it, never--do you hear?--never. Send +that note!" he cried. + +Mr. Flint walked out, sent the note, and returned and took his place +silently at his own table. He was a man of concentration, and he put his +mind on the arguments he was composing to certain political leaders. Mr. +Worthington merely pretended to work as he waited for the answer to come +back. And presently, when it did come back, he tore it open and read it +with an expression not often on his lips. He flung the paper at Mr. +Flint. + +"Read that," he said. + +This is what Mr. Flint read: "Miss Wetherell begs to inform Mr. Isaac D. +Worthington that she can have no communication or intercourse with him +whatsoever." + +Mr. Flint handed it back without a word. His opinion of the +school-teacher had risen mightily, but he did not say so. Mr. Worthington +took the note, too, without a word. Speech was beyond him, and he crushed +the paper as fiercely as he would have liked to have crushed Cynthia, had +she been in his hands. + +One accomplishment which Cynthia had learned at Miss Sadler's school was +to write a letter in the third person, Miss Sadler holding that there +were occasions when it was beneath a lady's dignity to write a direct +note. And Cynthia, sitting at her little desk in the schoolhouse during +her recess, had deemed this one of the occasions. She could not bring +herself to write, "My dear Mr. Worthington." Her anger, when the note had +been handed to her, was for the moment so great that she could not go on +with her classes; but she had controlled it, and compelled Silas to stand +in the entry until recess, when she sat with her pen in her hand until +that happy notion of the third person occurred to her. And after Silas +had gone she sat still; though trembling a little at intervals, picturing +with some satisfaction Mr. Worthington's appearance when he received her +answer. Her instinct told her that he had received his son's letter, and +that he had sent for her to insult her. By sending for her, indeed, he +had insulted her irrevocably, and that is why she trembled. + +Poor Cynthia! her troubles came thick and fast upon her in those days. +When she reached home, there was the letter which Ephraim had left on the +table addressed in the familiar, upright handwriting, and when Cynthia +saw it, she caught her hand sharply at her breast, as if the pain there +had stopped the beating of her heart. Well it was for Bob's peace of mind +that he could not see her as she read it, and before she had come to the +end there were drops on the sheets where the purple ink had run. How +precious would have been those drops to him! He would never give her up. +No mandate or decree could separate them--nothing but death. And he was +happier now so he told her--than he had been for months: happy in the +thought that he was going out into the world to win bread for her, as +became a man. Even if he had not her to strive for, he saw now that such +was the only course for him. He could not conform. + +It was a manly letter,--how manly Bob himself never knew. But Cynthia +knew, and she wept over it and even pressed it to her lips--for there +was no one to see. Yes, she loved him as she would not have believed it +possible to love, and she sat through the afternoon reading his words and +repeating them until it seemed that he were there by her side, speaking +them. They came, untrammelled and undefiled, from his heart into hers. + +And now that he had quarrelled with his father for her sake, and was bent +with all the determination of his character upon making his own way in +the world, what was she to do? What was her duty? Not one letter of the +twoscore she had received (so she kept their count from day to day)--not +one had she answered. His faith had indeed been great. But she must +answer this: must write, too, on that subject of her dismissal, lest it +should be wrongly told him. He was rash in his anger, and fearless; this +she knew, and loved him for such qualities as he had. + +She must stay in Brampton and do her work,--so much was clearly her duty, +although she longed to flee from it. And at last she sat down and wrote +to him. Some things are too sacred to be set forth on a printed page, and +this letter is one of those things. Try as she would, she could not find +it in her heart at such a time to destroy his hope,--or her own. The hope +which she would not acknowledge, and the love which she strove to conceal +from him seeped up between the words of her letter like water through +grains of sand. Words, indeed, are but as grains of sand to conceal +strong feelings, and as Cynthia read the letter over she felt that every +line betrayed her, and knew that she could compose no lines which would +not. + +She said nothing of the summons which she had received that morning, or +of her answer; and her account of the matter of the dismissal and +reinstatement was brief and dignified, and contained no mention of Mr. +Worthington's name or agency. It was her duty, too, to rebuke Bob for the +quarrel with his father, to point out the folly of it, and the wrong, and +to urge him as strongly as she could to retract, though she felt that all +this was useless. And then--then came the betrayal of hope. She could not +ask him never to see her again, but she did beseech him for her sake, and +for the sake of that love which he had declared, not to attempt to see +her: not for a year, she wrote, though the word looked to her like +eternity. Her reasons, aside from her own scruples, were so obvious, +while she taught in Brampton, that she felt that he would consent to +banishment--until the summer holidays in July, at least: and then she +would be in Coniston,--and would have had time to decide upon future +steps. A reprieve was all she craved,--a reprieve in which to reflect, +for she was in no condition to reflect now. Of one thing she was sure, +that it would not be right at this time to encourage him although she had +a guilty feeling that the letter had given him encouragement in spite of +all the prohibitions it contained. "If, in the future years," thought +Cynthia, as she sealed the envelope, "he persists in his determination, +what then?" You, Miss Lucretia, of all people in the world, have planted +the seeds with your talk about Genesis! + +The letter was signed "One who will always remain your friend, Cynthia +Wetherell." And she posted it herself. + +When Ephraim came home to supper that evening, he brought the Brampton +Clarion, just out, and in it was an account of Miss Lucretia Penniman's +speech at the mass meeting, and of her visit, and of her career. It was +written in Mr. Page's best vein, and so laudatory was it that we shall +have to spare Miss Lucretia in not repeating it here: yes, and omit the +encomiums, too, on the teacher of the Brampton lower school. Mr. +Worthington was not mentioned, and for this, at least, Cynthia drew along +breath of relief, though Ephraim was of the opinion that the first +citizen should have been scored as he deserved, and held up to the +contempt of his fellow-townsmen. The dismissal of the teacher, indeed, +was put down to a regrettable misconception on the part of "one of the +prudential committee," who had confessed his mistake in "a manly and +altogether praiseworthy speech." The article was as near the truth, +perhaps, as the Clarions may come on such matters--which is not very +near. Cynthia would have been better pleased if Mr. Page had spared his +readers the recital of her qualities, and she did not in the least +recognize the paragon whom Miss Lucretia had befriended and defended. She +was thankful that Mr. Page did pot state that the celebrity had come up +from Boston on her account. Miss Penniman had been "actuated by a sudden +desire to see once more the beauties of her old home, to look into the +faces of the old friends who had followed her career with such pardonable +pride." The speech of the president of the literary club, you may be +sure, was printed in full, for Mr. Ives himself had taken the trouble to +write it out for the editor--by request, of course. + +Cynthia turned over the sheet, and read many interesting items: one +concerning the beauty and fashion and intellect which attended the party +at Mr. Gamaliel Ives's; in the Clovelly notes she saw that Miss Judy +Hatch, of Coniston, was visiting relatives there; she learned the output +of the Worthington Mills for the past week. Cynthia was about to fold up +the paper and send it to Miss Lucretia, whom she thought it would amuse, +when her eyes were arrested by the sight of a familiar name. + + "Jethro Bass come to life again. + From the State Tribune." + +That was the heading. "One of the greatest political surprises in many +years was the arrival in the capital on Wednesday of Judge Bass, whom it +was thought, had permanently retired from politics. This, at least, seems +to have been the confident belief of a faction in the state who have at +heart the consolidation of certain lines of railroads. Judge Bass was +found by a Tribune reporter in the familiar Throne Room at the Pelican, +but, as usual, he could not be induced to talk for publication. He was in +conference throughout the afternoon with several well-known leaders from +the North Country. The return of Jethro Bass to activity seriously +complicates the railroad situation, and many prominent politicians are +freely predicting to-night that, in spite of the town-meeting returns, +the proposed bill for consolidation will not go through. Judge Bass is a +man of such remarkable personality that he has regained at a stroke much +of the influence that he lost by the sudden and unaccountable retirement +which electrified the state some months since. His reappearance, the news +of which was the one topic in all political centres yesterday, is equally +unaccountable. It is hinted that some action on the part of Isaac D. +Worthington has brought Jethro Bass to life. They are known to be bitter +enemies, and it is said that Jethro Bass has but one object in returning +to the field--to crush the president of the Truro Railroad. Another +theory is that the railroads and interests opposed to the consolidation +have induced Judge Bass to take charge of their fight for them. All +indications point to the fiercest struggle the state has ever seen in +June, when the Legislature meets. The Tribune, whose sentiments are well +known to be opposed to the iniquity of consolidation, extends a hearty +welcome to the judge. No state, we believe, can claim a party leader of a +higher order of ability than Jethro Bass." + +Cynthia dropped the paper in her lap, and sat very still. This, then, was +what happened when Jethro had heard of her dismissal--he had left +Coniston without writing her a word and passed through Brampton without +seeing her. He had gone back to that life which he had abandoned for her +sake; the temptation had been too strong, the desire for vengeance too +great. He had not dared to see her. And yet the love for her which had +been strong enough to make him renounce the homage of men, and even incur +their ridicule, had incited him to this very act of vengeance. + +What should she do now, indeed? Had those peaceful and happy Saturdays +and Sundays in Coniston passed away forever? Should she follow him to the +capital and appeal to him? Ah no, she felt that were a useless pain to +them both. She believed, now, that he had gone away from her for all +time, that the veil of limitless space was set between, them. Silently +she arose,--so silently that Ephraim, dozing by the fire, did not awake. +She went into her own room and wept, and after many hours fell into a +dreamless sleep of sheer exhaustion. + +The days passed, and the weeks; the snow ran from the brown fields, and +melted at length even in the moist crotches under the hemlocks of the +northern slopes; the robin and bluebird came, the hillsides were mottled +with exquisite shades of green, and the scent of fruit blossom and balm +of Gilead was in the air. June came as a maiden and grew into womanhood. +But Jethro Bass did not return to Coniston. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +The legends which surround the famous war which we are about to touch +upon are as dim as those of Troy or Tuscany. Decorous chronicles and +biographies and monographs and eulogies exist, bound in leather and +stamped in gold, each lauding its own hero: chronicles written in really +beautiful language, and high-minded and noble, out of which the heroes +come unstained. Horatius holds the bridge, and not a dent in his armor; +and swims the Tiber without getting wet or muddy. Castor and Pollux fight +in the front rank at Lake Regillus, in the midst of all that gore and +slaughter, and emerge all white and pure at the end of the day--but they +are gods. + +Out of the classic wars to which we have referred sprang the great Roman +Republic and Empire, and legend runs into authentic and written history. +Just so, parva componere magnis, out of the cloud-wrapped conflicts of +the five railroads of which our own Gaul is composed, emerged one +imperial railroad, authentically and legally written down on the statute +books, for all men to see. We cannot go behind that statute except to +collect the legends and write homilies about the heroes who held the +bridges. + +If we were not in mortal terror of the imperial power, and a little +fearful, too, of tiring our readers, we would write out all the legends +we have collected of this first fight for consolidation, and show the +blood, too. + +In the statute books of a certain state may be found a number of laws +setting forth the various things that a railroad or railroads may do, and +on the margin of these pages is invariably printed a date, that being the +particular year in which these laws were passed. By a singular +coincidence it is the very year at which we have now arrived in our +story. We do not intend to give a map of the state, or discuss the merits +or demerits of the consolidation of the Central and the Northwestern and +the Truro railroads. Such discussions are not the province of a novelist, +and may all be found in the files of the Tribune at the State Library. +There were, likewise, decisions without number handed down by the various +courts before and after that celebrated session,--opinions on the +validity of leases, on the extension of railroads, on the rights of +individual stockholders--all dry reading enough. + +At the risk of being picked to pieces by the corporation lawyers who may +read these pages, we shall attempt to state the situation and with all +modesty and impartiality--for we, at least, hold no brief. When Mr. Isaac +D. Worthington obtained that extension of the Truro Railroad (which we +have read about from the somewhat verdant point of view of William +Wetherell), that railroad then formed a connection with another road +which ran northward from Harwich through another state, and with which we +have nothing to do. Having previously purchased a line to the southward +from the capital, Mr. Worthington's railroad was in a position to compete +with Mr. Duncan's (the "Central") for Canadian traffic, and also to cut +into the profits of the "Northwestern," Mr. Lovejoy's road. In brief, the +Truro Railroad found itself very advantageously placed, as Mr. +Worthington and Mr. Flint had foreseen. There followed a period of +bickering and recrimination, of attempts of the other two railroads to +secure representation in the Truro directorate, of suits and injunctions +and appeals to the Legislature and I know not what else--in all of which +affairs Mr. Bijah Bixby and other gentlemen we could name found both +pleasure and remuneration. + +Oh, that those halcyon days of the little wars would come again, when a +captain could ride out almost any time at the held of his band of +mercenaries and see honest fighting and divide honest spoils! There was +much knocking about of men and horses, but very little bloodshed, so we +are told. Mr. Bixby will sit on the sunny side of his barns in Clovelly +and tell you stories of that golden period with tears in his eyes, when +he went to conventions with a pocketful of proxies from the river towns, +and controlled in the greatest legislative year of all a "block" which +included the President of the Senate, for which he got the fabulous sum +of----. He will tell you, but I won't. Mr. Bixby's occupation is gone +now. We have changed all that, and we are ruled from imperial Rome. If +you don't do right, they cut off your (political) head, and it is of no +use to run away, because there is no one to run to. + +It was Isaac D. Worthington--or shall we say Mr. Flint?--who was +responsible for this pernicious change for the worse, who conceived the +notion of leasing for the Truro the Central and the Northwestern,--thus +making one railroad out of the three. If such a gigantic undertaking +could be got through, Mr. Worthington very rightly deemed that the other +railroads of the state would eventually fall like ripe fruit into their +caps--owning the ground under the tree, as they would. A movement, which +we need not go unto, was first made upon the courts, and for a while +adverse decisions came down like summer rain. A genius by the name of +Jethro Bass had for many years presided (in the room of the governor and +council at the State House) at the political birth of justices of the +Supreme Court. None of them actually wore livery, but we have seen one of +them--along time ago--in a horse blanket. None of them were favorable to +the plans of Mr. Worthington and Mr. Duncan. + +We have listened to the firing on the skirmish lines for a long time, and +now the real battle is at hand. It is June, and the Legislature is +meeting, and Bijah Bixby has come down to the capital at the head of his +regiment of mercenaries, of which Mr. Sutton is the honorary colonel; the +clans are here from the north, well quartered and well fed; the Throne +Room, within the sacred precincts of which we have been before, is +occupied. But there is another headquarters now, too, in the Pelican +House--a Railroad Room; larger than the Throne Room, with a bath-room +leading out of it. Another old friend of ours, Judge Abner Parkinson of +Harwich, he who gave the sardonic laugh when Sam Price applied for the +post of road agent, may often be seen in that Railroad Room from now on. +The fact is that the judge is about to become famous far beyond the +confines of Harwich; for he, and none other, is the author of the +Consolidation Bill itself. + +Mr. Flint is the generalissimo of the allied railroads, and sits in his +headquarters early and late, going over the details of the campaign with +his lieutenants; scanning the clauses of the bill with Judge Parkinson +for the last time, and giving orders to the captains of mercenaries as to +the disposition of their forces; writing out passes for the deserving and +the true. For these latter, also, and for the wavering there is a +claw-hammer on the marble-topped mantel wielded by Mr. Bijah Bixby, pro +tem chief of staff--or of the hammer, for he is self-appointed and very +useful. He opens the mysterious packing cases which come up to the +Railroad Room thrice a week, and there is water to be had in the +bath-room--and glasses. Mr. Bixby also finds time to do some of the +scouting about the rotunda and lobbies, for which he is justly +celebrated, and to drill his regiment every day. The Honorable Heth +Sutton, M.C.,--who held the bridge in the Woodchuck Session,--is there +also, sitting in a corner, swelled with importance, smoking big Florizel +cigars which come from--somewhere. There are, indeed, many great and +battle-scarred veterans who congregate in that room--too numerous and +great to mention; and saunterers in the Capitol Park opposite know when a +council of war is being held by the volumes of smoke which pour out of +the window, just as the Romans are made cognizant by the smoking of a +chimney of when another notable event takes place. + +Who, then, are left to frequent the Throne Room? Is that ancient seat of +power deserted, and does Jethro Bass sit there alone behind the curtains, +in his bitterness, thinking of other bright June days that are gone? + +Of all those who had been amazed when Jethro Bass suddenly emerged from +his retirement and appeared in the capital some months before, none were +more thunderstruck than certain gentlemen who had been to Coniston +repeatedly, but in vain, to urge him to make this very fight. The most +important of these had been Mr. Balch, president of the "Down East" Road, +and the representatives of two railroads of another state. They had at +last offered Jethro fabulous sums to take charge of their armies in the +field--sums, at least, that would seem fabulous to many people, and had +seemed so to them. When they heard that the lion had roused and shaken +himself and had unaccountably come forth of his own accord, they hastened +to the state capital to renew their offers. Another shock, but of a +different kind, was in store for them. Mr. Balch had not actually driven +the pack-mules, laden with treasure, to the door of the Pelican House, +where Jethro might see them from his window; but he requested a private +audience, and it was probably accidental that the end of his personal +check-book protruded a little from his pocket. He was a big, +coarse-grained man, Mr. Balch, who had once been a brakeman, and had +risen by what is known as horse sense to the presidency of his road. +There was a wonderful sunset beyond the Capitol, but Mr. Balch did not +talk about the sunset, although Jethro was watching it from behind the +curtains. + +"If you are willing to undertake this fight against consolidation," said +Mr. Balch, "we are ready to talk business with you." + +"D-don't know what you're going to, do," answered Jethro; "I'm going to +prevent consolidation, if I can." + +"All right," said Balch, smiling. He regarded this reply as one of +Jethro's delicate euphemisms. "We're prepared to give that same little +retainer." + +Jethro did not look up. Mr. Balch went to the table and seized a pen and +filled out a check for an amount that shall be nameless. + +"I have made it payable to bearer, as usual," he said, and he handed it +to Jethro. + +Jethro took it, and absently tore it into little pieces, and threw the +pieces on the floor. Mr. Balch watched him in consternation. He began to +think the report that Jethro had reached his second childhood was true. + +"What in Halifax are you doing, Bass?" he cried. + +"W-want to stop this consolidation, don't you--want' to stop it?" + +"Certainly I do." + +"G-goin' to do all you can to stop it hain't you?" + +"Certainly I am." + +"I-I'll help you," said Jethro. + +"Help us!" exclaimed Balch. "Great Scott, we want you to take charge of +it." + +"I-I'll do all I can, but I won't guarantee it--w-won't guarantee it," +said Jethro. + +"We don't ask you to guarantee it. If you'll do all you can, that's +enough. You won't take a retainer?" + +"W-won't take anything," said Jethro. + +"You mean to say you don't want anything for your for your time and your +services if the bill is defeated?" + +"T-that's about it, Ed. Little p-private matter with both of us. You +don't want consolidation, and I don't. I hain't offered to give you a +retainer--have I?" + +"No," said the astounded Mr. Balch. He scratched his head and fingered +the leaves of his check-book. The captains over the tens and the captains +over the hundreds would want little retainers--and who was to pay these? +"How about the boys?" asked Mr. Balch. + +"S-still got the same office in the depot--hain't you, Ed, s-same +office?" + +"Yes." + +"G-guess the boys hev b'en there before," said Jethro. + +Mr. Balch went away, meditating upon those sayings, and took the train +for Boston. If he had waked up of a fine morning to find himself at the +head of some benevolent and charitable organization, instead of the "Down +East" Railroad, he could not have been more astonished than he had been +at the unaccountable change of heart of Jethro Bass. He did not know what +to make of it, and told his colleagues so; and at first they feared one +of two things,--treachery or lunacy. But a little later a rumor reached +Mr. Balch's ears that Jethro's hatred of Isaac D. Worthington was at the +bottom of his reappearance in public life, although Jethro himself never +mentioned Mr. Worthington's name. Jethro sat in the Throne Room, +consulting, directing day after day, and when the Legislature assembled, +"the boys" began to call at Mr. Balch's office. But Mr. Balch never again +broached the subject of money to Jethro Bass. + +We have to sing the song of sixpence for the last time in these pages; +and as it is an old song now, there will be no encores. If you can buy +one member of the lower house for ten dollars, how many members can you +buy for fifty? It was no such problem in primary arithmetic that Mr. +Balch and his associates had to solve--theirs was in higher mathematics, +in permutations and combinations, and in least squares. No wonder the old +campaigners speak with tears in their eyes of the days of that ever +memorable summer. There were spoils to be picked up in the very streets +richer than the sack of the thirty cities; and as the session wore on it +is affirmed by men still living that money rained down in the Capitol +Park and elsewhere like manna from the skies, if you were one of a chosen +band. If you were, all you had to do was to look in your vest pockets +when you took your clothes off in the evening and extract enough legal +tender to pay your bill at the Pelican for a week. Mr. Lovejoy having +been overheard one day to make a remark concerning the diet of hogs, the +next morning certain visitors to the capital were horrified to discover +trails of corn leading from the Pelican House to their doorways. Men who +had never seen a receiving teller opened bank accounts. No, it was not a +problem in simple arithmetic, and Mr. Balch and Mr. Flint, and even Mr. +Duncan and Mr. Worthington, covered whole sheets with figures during the +stifling days in July. Some men are so valuable that they can be bought +twice, or even three times, and they make figuring complicated. + +Jethro Bass did no calculating. He sat behind the curtains, and he must +have kept the figures in his head. + +The battle had closed in earnest, and for twelve long, sultry weeks it +raged with unabated fierceness. Consolidation had a terror for the rural +mind, and the state Tribune skilfully played its stream upon the +constituents of those gentlemen who stood tamely at the Worthington +hitching-posts, and the constituents flocked to the capital; that able +newspaper, too, found space to return, with interest, the attacks of Mr. +Worthington's organ, the Newcastle Guardian. These amenities are much too +personal to reproduce here, now that the smoke of battle has rolled away. +An epic could be written upon the conflict, if there were space: Canto +One, the first position carried triumphantly, though at some expense, by +the Worthington forces, who elect the Speaker. That had been a crucial +time before the town meetings, when Jethro abdicated. The Worthington +Speaker goes ahead with his committees, and it is needless to say that +Mr. Chauncey Weed is not made Chairman of the Committee on Corporations. +As an offset to this, the Jethro forces gain on the extreme right, where +the Honorable Peleg Hartington is made President of the Senate, etc. + +For twelve hot weeks, with a public spirit which is worthy of the highest +praise, the Committee sit in their shirt sleeves all day long and listen +to arguments for and against consolidation; and ask learned questions +that startle rural witnesses; and smoke big Florizel cigars (a majority +of them). Judge Abner Parkinson defends his bill, quoting from the +Constitution and the Declaration of Independence and the Bible; a +celebrated lawyer from the capital riddles it, using the same +authorities, and citing the Federalist and the Golden Rule in addition. +The Committee sit open-minded, listening with laudable impartiality; it +does not become them to arrive at a hasty decision on a question of such +magnitude. In the meantime the House passes an important bill dealing +with the bounty on hedgehogs, and there are several card games going on +in the cellar, where it is cool. + +The governor of the state is a free lance, and may be seen any afternoon +walking through the park, consorting with no one. He may be recognized +even at a distance by his portly figure, his silk hat, and his dignified +mien. Yes, it is an old and valued friend, the Honorable Alva Hopkins, +patron of the drama, and sometimes he has a beautiful young woman (still +unattached) by his side. He lives in a suite of rooms at the Pelican. It +is a well-known fact (among Mr. Worthington's supporters) that the +Honorable Alva promised in January, when Mr. Bass retired, to sign the +Consolidation Bill, and that he suddenly became open-minded in March, and +has remained open-minded ever since, listening gravely to arguments, and +giving much study to the subject. He is an executive now, although it is +the last year of his term, and of course he is never seen either in the +Throne Room or the Railroad Room. And besides, he may become a senator. + +August has come, and the forces are spent and panting, and neither side +dares to risk the final charge. The reputation of Jethro Bass is at +stake. Should he risk and lose, he must go back to Coniston a beaten man, +subject to the contempt of his neighbors and his state. People do not +know that he has nothing now to go back to, and that he cares nothing for +contempt. As he sits in his window day after day he has only one thought +and one wish,--to ruin Isaac D. Worthington. And he will do it if he can. +Those who know--and among them is Mr. Balch himself--say that Jethro has +never conducted a more masterly campaign than this, and that all the +others have been mere childish trials of strength compared to it. So he +sits there through those twelve weeks while the session slips by, while +his opponents grumble, and while even his supporters, eager for the +charge, complain. The truth is that in all the years of his activity be +has never had such an antagonist as Mr. Flint. Victory hangs in the +balance, and a false move will throw it to either side. + +Victory hangs now, to be explicit, upon two factors. The first and most +immediate of these is a certain canny captain of many wars whose regiment +is still at the disposal of either army--for a price, a regiment which +has hitherto remained strictly neutral. And what a regiment it is! A +block of river towns and a senator, and not a casualty since they marched +boldly into camp twelve weeks ago. Mr. Batch is getting very much worried +about this regiment, and beginning to doubt Jethro's judgment. + +"I tell you, Bass," he said one evening, "if you allow him to run around +loose much longer, we're lost, that's all there is to it!" (Mr. Batch +referred to the captain in question.) "They'll buy up his block at his +figure--see, if they don't. They're getting desperate. Don't you think +I'd better bid him in?" + +"B-bid him in if you've a mind to; Ed." + +"Look here, Jethro," said Mr. Batch, savagely biting off the end of a +cigar, "I'm beginning to think you don't care a continental about this +business. Which side are you on, anyway?" The heat and the length and the +uncertainty of the struggle were telling on the nerves of the railroad +president. "You sit there from morning till night and won't say anything; +and now, when there's only one block out, you won't give the word to buy +it." + +"N-never told you to buy anything, did I--Ed?" + +"No," answered Mr. Batch, "you haven't. I don't know what the devil's got +into you." + +"D-done all the payin' without consultin' me, hain't you, Ed?" + +"Yes; I have. What are you driving at?" + +"D-done it if I hadn't b'en here, wouldn't you?" + +"Yes, and more too," said Mr. Batch. + +"W-wouldn't make much difference to you if I wasn't here--would it?" + +"Great Scott, Jethro, what do you mean?" cried the railroad president, in +genuine alarm; "you're not going to pull out, are you?" + +"W-wouldn't make much odds if I did--would it, Ed?" + +"The devil it wouldn't!" exclaimed Mr. Balch. "If you pulled out, we'd +lose the North Country, and Peleg, and Gosport, and nobody can tell which +way Alva Hopkins will swing. I guess you know what he'll do--you're so +d--d secretive I can't tell whether you do or not. If you pulled out, +they'd have their bill on Friday." + +"H-hain't under any obligations to you, Ed--am I?" + +"No," said Mr. Batch, "but I don't see why you keep harping on that." + +"J-dust wanted to have it clear," said Jethro, and relapsed into silence. + +There was a fireproof carpet on the Throne Room, and Mr. Batch flung down +his cigar and stamped on it and went out. No wonder he could not +understand Jethro's sudden scruples about money and obligations--about +railroad money, that is. Jethro was spending some of his own, but not in +the capital, and in a manner which was most effective. In short, at the +very moment when Mr. Batch stamped on his cigar, Jethro had the victory +in his hands--only he did not choose to say so. He had had a mysterious +telegram that day from Harwich, signed by Chauncey Weed, and Mr. Weed +himself appeared at the door of Number 7, fresh from his travels, shortly +after Mr. Batch had gone out of it. Mr. Weed closed the door gently, and +locked it, and sat down in a rocking chair close to Jethro and put his +hand over his mouth. We cannot hear what Mr. Weed is saying. All is +mystery here, and in order to preserve that mystery we shall delay for a +little the few words which will explain Mr. Weed's successful mission. + +Mr. Batch, angry and bewildered, descended into the rotunda, where he +shortly heard two astounding pieces of news. The first was that the +Honorable Heth Sutton had abandoned the Florizel cigars and had gone home +to Clovelly. The second; that Mr. Bijah Bixby had resigned the +claw-hammer and had ceased to open the packing cases in the Railroad +Room. Consternation reigned in that room, so it was said (and this was +true). Mr. Worthington and Mr. Duncan and Mr. Lovejoy were closeted there +with Mr. Flint, and the door was locked and the transom shut, and smoke +was coming out of the windows. + +Yes, Mr. Bijah Bixby is the canny captain of whom Mr. Balch spoke: he it +is who owns that block of river towns, intact, and the one senator. +Impossible! We have seen him opening the packing cases, we have seen him +working for the Worthington faction for the last two years. Mr. Bixby was +very willing to open boxes, and to make himself useful and agreeable; but +it must be remembered that a good captain of mercenaries owes a sacred +duty to his followers. At first Mr. Flint had thought he could count on +Mr. Bixby; after a while he made several unsuccessful attempts to talk +business with him; a particularly difficult thing to do, even for Mr. +Flint, when Mr. Bixby did not wish to talk business. Mr. Balch had found +it quite as difficult to entice Mr. Bixby away from the boxes and the +Railroad Room. The weeks drifted on, until twelve went by, and then Mr. +Bixby found himself, with his block of river towns and one senator, in +the incomparable position of being the arbiter of the fate of the +Consolidation Bill in the House and Senate. No wonder Mr. Balch wanted to +buy the services of that famous regiment at any price! + +But Mr. Bixby, for once in his life, had waited too long. + +When Mr. Balch, rejoicing, but not a little indignant at not having been +taken into confidence, ascended to the Throne Room after supper to +question Jethro concerning the meaning of the things he had heard, he +found Senator Peleg Hartington seated mournfully on the bed, talking at +intervals, and Jethro listening. + +"Come up and eat out of my hand," said the senator. + +"Who?" demanded Mr. Balch. + +"Bije," answered the senator. + +"Great Scott, do you mean to say you've got Bixby?" exclaimed the +railroad president. He felt as if he would like to shake the senator, who +was so deliberate and mournful in his answers. "What did you pay him?" + +Mr. Hartington appeared shocked by the question. + +"Guess Heth Sutton will settle with him," he said. + +"Heth Sutton! Why the--why should Heth pay him?" + +"Guess Heth'd like to make him a little present, under the circumstances. +I was goin' through the barber shop," Mr. Hartington continued, speaking +to Jethro and ignoring the railroad president, "and I heard somebody +whisperin' my name. Sound came out of that little shampoo closet; went in +there and found Bije. 'Peleg,' says he, right into my ear, 'tell Jethro +it's all right--you understand. We want Heth to go back--break his heart +if he didn't--you understand. If I'd knowed last winter Jethro meant +business, I wouldn't hev' helped Gus Flint out. Tell Jethro he can have +'em--you know what I mean.' Bije waited a little mite too long," said the +senator, who had given a very fair imitation of Mr. Bixby's nasal voice +and manner. + +"Well, I'm d--d!" ejaculated Mr. Balch, staring at Jethro. "How did you +work it?" + +"Sent Chauncey through the deestrict," said Mr. Hartington. + +Mr. Chauncey Weed had, in truth, gone through a part of the congressional +district of the Honorable Heth Sutton with a little leather bag. Mr. Weed +had been able to do some of his work (with the little leather bag) in the +capital itself. In this way Mr. Bixby's regiment, Sutton was the honorary +colonel, had been attacked in the rear and routed. Here was to be a +congressional convention that autumn, and a large part of Mr. Sutton's +district lay in the North Country, which, as we have seen, was loyal to +Jethro to the back bone. The district, too, was largely rural, and +therefore anti-consolidation, and the inability of the Worthington forces +to get their bill through had made it apparent that Jethro Bass was as +powerful as ever. Under these circumstances it had not been very +difficult for a gentleman of Mr. Chauncey Weed's powers of persuasion to +induce various lieutenants in the district to agree to send delegates to +the coming convention who would be conscientiously opposed to Mr. +Sutton's renomination: hence the departure from the capital of Mr. +Sutton; hence the generous offer of Mr. Bixby to put his regiment at the +disposal of Mr. Bass--free of charge. + +The second factor on which victory hung (we can use the past tense now) +was none other than his Excellency Alva Hopkins, governor of the state. +The bill would never get to his Excellency now--so people said; would +never get beyond that committee who had listened so patiently to the +twelve weeks of argument. These were only rumors, after all, for the +rotunda never knows positively what goes on in high circles; but the +rotunda does figuring, too, when at length the problem is reduced to a +simple equation, with Bijah Bixby as x. If it were true that Bijah had +gone over to Jethro Bass, the Consolidation Bill was dead. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +When Jethro Bass walked out of the hotel that evening men looked at him, +and made way for him, but none spoke to him. There was something in his +face that forbade speech. He was a great man once more--a greater man +than ever; and he had, if the persistent rumors were true, accomplished +an almost incomprehensible feat, even for Jethro Bass. There was another +reason, too, why they stared at him. In all those twelve weeks of that +most trying of all sessions he had not once gone into the street, and he +had been less than ever common in the eyes of men. Twice a day he had +descended to the dining room for a simple meal--that was all; and fewer +had gained entrance to Room Number 7 this session than ever before. + +There is a river that flows by the capital, a wide and gentle river +bordered by green meadows and fringed with willows; higher up, if you go +far enough, a forest comes down to the water on the western side. Jethro +walked through the hooded bridge, and up the eastern bank until he could +see the forest like a black band between the orange sky and the orange +river, and there he sat down upon a fallen log on the edge of the bank. +But Jethro was thinking of another scene,--of a granite-ribbed pasture on +Coniston Mountain that swings in limitless space, from either end of +which a man may step off into eternity. William Wetherell, in one of his +letters, had described that place as the Threshold of the Nameless +Worlds, and so it had seemed to Jethro in the years of his desolation. He +was thinking of it now, even as it had been in his mind that winter's +evening when Cynthia had come to Coniston and had surprised him with that +look of terrible loneliness on his face. + +Yes, and he was thinking of Cynthia. When, indeed, had he not been +thinking of her? How many tunes had he rehearsed the events in the +tannery house--for they were the events of his life now. The triumphs +over his opponents and enemies fell away, and the pride of power. Such +had not been his achievements. She had loved him, and no man had reached +a higher pinnacle than that. + +Why he had forfeited that love for vengeance, he could not tell. The +embers of a man's passions will suddenly burst into flame, and he will +fiddle madly while the fire burns his soul. He had avenged her as well as +himself; but had he avenged her, now that he held Isaac Worthington in +his power? By crushing him, had he not added to her trouble and her +sorrow? She had confessed that she loved Isaac Worthington's son, and was +not he (Jethro) widening the breach between Cynthia and the son by +crushing the father? Jethro had not thought of this. But he had thought +of her, night and day, as he had sat in his room directing the battle. +Not a day had passed that he had not looked for a letter, hoping against +hope. If she had written to him once, if she had come to him once, would +he have desisted? He could not say--the fires of hatred had burned so +fiercely, and still burned so fiercely, that he clenched his fists when +it came over him that Isaac Worthington was at last in his power. + +A white line above the forest was all that remained of the sunset when he +rose up and took from his coat a silver locket and opened it and held it +to the fading light. Presently he closed it again, and walked slowly +along the river bank toward the little city twinkling on its hill. He +crossed the hooded bridge and climbed the slope, stopping for a moment at +a little stationery shop; he passed through the groups which were still +loudly discussing this thing he had done, and gained his room and locked +the door. Men came to it and knocked and got no answer. The room was in +darkness, and the night breeze stirred among the trees in the park and +blew in at the window. + +At last Jethro got up and lighted the gas and paused at the centre table. +He was to violate more than one principle of his life that night, though +not without a struggle; and he sat for a long while looking at the blank +paper before him. Then he wrote, and sealed the letter--which contained +three lines--and pulled the bell cord. The call was answered by a +messenger who had been far many years in the service of the Pelican +House, and who knew many secrets of the gods. The man actually grew pale +when he saw the address on the envelope which was put in his hand and +read the denomination of the crisp note under it that was the price of +silence. + +"F-find the gentleman and give it to him yourself. Er--John?" + +"Yes, Mr. Bass?" + +"If you don't find him, bring it--back." + +When the man had gone, Jethro turned down the gas and went again to his +chair by the window. For a while voices came up to him from the street, +but at length the groups dispersed, one by one; and a distant clock +boomed out eleven solemn strokes. Twice the clock struck again, at the +half-hour and midnight, and the noises in the house--the banging of doors +and the jangling of keys and the hurrying of feet in the corridors--were +hushed. Jethro took no thought of these or of time, and sat gazing at the +stars in the depths of the sky above the capital dome until a shadow +emerged from the black mass of the trees opposite and crossed the street. +In a few minutes there were footsteps in the corridor,--stealthy +footsteps--and a knock on the door. Jethro got up and opened it, and +closed it again and locked it. Then he turned up the gas. + +"S-sit down," he said, and nodded his head toward the chair by the table. + +Isaac Worthington laid his silk hat on the table, and sat down. He looked +very haggard and worn in that light, very unlike the first citizen who +had entered Brampton in triumph on his return from the West not many +months before. The long strain of a long fight, in which he had risked +much for which he had labored a life to gain, had told on him, and there +were crow's-feet at the corners of, his eyes, and dark circles under +them. Isaac Worthington had never lost before, and to destroy the fruits +of such a man's ambition is to destroy the man. He was not as young as he +had once been. But now, in the very hour of defeat, hope had rekindled +the fire in the eyes and brought back the peculiar, tight-lipped, mocking +smile to the mouth. An hour ago, when he had been pacing Alexander +Duncan's library, the eyes and the mouth had been different. + +Long habit asserts itself at the strangest moments. Jethro Bass took his +seat by the window, and remained silent. The clock tolled the half-hour +after midnight. + +"You wanted to see me," said Mr. Worthington, finally. + +Jethro nodded, almost imperceptibly. + +"I suppose," said Mr. Worthington, slowly, "I suppose you are ready to +sell out." He found it a little difficult to control his voice. + +"Yes," answered Jethro, "r-ready to sell out." + +Mr. Worthington was somewhat taken aback by this simple admission. He +glanced at Jethro sitting motionless by the window, and in his heart he +feared him: he had come into that room when the gas was low, afraid. +Although he would not confess it to himself, he had been in fear of +Jethro Bass all his life, and his fear had been greater than ever since +the March day when Jethro had left Coniston. And could he have known, +now, the fires of hatred burning in Jethro's breast, Isaac Worthington +would have been in terror indeed. + +"What have you got to sell?" he demanded sharply. + +"G-guess you know, or you wouldn't have come here." + +"What proof have I that you have it to sell?" + +Jethro looked at him for an instant. + +"M-my word," he said. + +Isaac Worthington was silent for a while: he was striving to calm +himself, for an indefinable something had shaken him. The strange +stillness of the hour and the stranger atmosphere which seemed to +surround this transaction filled him with a nameless dread. The man in +the window had been his lifelong enemy: more than this, Jethro Bass, was +not like ordinary men--his ways were enshrouded in mystery, and when he +struck, he struck hard. There grew upon Isaac Worthington a sense that +this midnight hour was in some way to be the culmination of the long +years of hatred between them. + +He believed Jethro: he would have believed him even if Mr. Flint had not +informed him that afternoon that he was beaten, and bitterly he wished he +had taken Mr. Flint's advice many months before. Denunciation sprang to +his lips which he dared not utter. He was beaten, and he must pay--the +pound of flesh. Isaac Worthington almost thought it would be a pound of +flesh. + +"How much do you want?" he said. + +Again Jethro looked at him. + +"B-biggest price you can pay," he answered. + +"You must have made up your mind what you want. You've had time enough." + +"H-have made up my mind," said Jethro. + +"Make your demand," said Mr. Worthington, "and I'll give you my answer." + +"B-biggest price you can pay," said Jethro, again. + +Mr. Worthington's nerves could stand it no longer. + +"Look here," he cried, rising in his chair, "if you've brought me here to +trifle with me, you've made a mistake. It's your business to get control +of things that belong to other people, and sell them out. I am here to +buy. Nothing but necessity brings me here, and nothing but necessity will +keep me here a moment longer than I have to stay to finish this +abominable affair. I am ready to pay you twenty thousand dollars the day +that bill becomes a law." + +This time Jethro did not look at him. + +"P-pay me now," he said. + +"I will pay you the day the bill becomes a law. Then I shall know where I +stand." + +Jethro did not answer this ultimatum in any manner, but remained +perfectly still looking out of the window. Mr. Worthington glanced at +him, twice, and got his fingers on the brim of his hat, but he did not +pick it up. He stood so for a while, knowing full well that if he went +out of that room his chance was gone. Consolidation might come in other +years, but he, Isaac Worthington, would not be a factor in it. + +"You don't want a check, do you?" he said at last. + +"No--d-don't want a check." + +"What in God's name do you want? I haven't got twenty thousand dollars in +currency in my pocket." + +"Sit down, Isaac Worthington," said Jethro. + +Mr. Worthington sat down--out of sheer astonishment, perhaps. + +"W-want the consolidation--don't you? Want it bad--don't you?" + +Mr. Worthington did, not answer. Jethro stood over him now, looking down +at him from the other side of the narrow table. + +"Know Cynthy Wetherell?" he said. + +Then Isaac Worthington understood that his premonitions had been real. +The pound of flesh was to be demanded, but strangely enough, he did not +yet comprehend the nature of it. + +"I know that there is such a person," he answered, for his pride would +not permit him to say more. + +"W-what do you know about her?" + +Isaac Worthington was bitterly angry--the more so because he was +helpless, and could not question Jethro's right to ask. What did he know +about her? Nothing, except that she had intrigued to marry his son. Bob's +letter had described her, to be sure, but he could not be expected to +believe that: and he had not heard Miss Lucretia Penniman's speech. And +yet he could not tell Jethro that he knew nothing about her, for he was +shrewd enough to perceive the drift of the next question. + +"Kn-know anything against her?" said Jethro. + +Mr. Worthington leaned back in his chair. + +"I can't see what Miss Wetherell has to do with the present occasion," he +replied. + +"H-had her dismissed by the prudential committee had her +dismissed--didn't you?" + +"They chose to act as they saw fit." + +"T-told Levi Dodd to dismiss her--didn't you?" + +That was a matter of common knowledge in Brampton, having leaked out +through Jonathan Hill. + +"I must decline to discuss this," said Mr. Worthington. + +"W-wouldn't if I was you." + +"What do you mean?" + +"What I say. T-told Levi Dodd to dismiss her, didn't you?" + +"Yes, I did." Isaac Worthington had lost in self-esteem by not saying so +before. + +"Why? Wahn't she honest? Wahn't she capable? Wahn't she a lady?" + +"I can't say that I know anything against Miss Wetherell's character, if +that's what you mean." + +"F-fit to teach--wahn't she--fit to teach?" + +"I believe she has since qualified before Mr. Errol." + +"Fit to teach--wahn't fit to marry your son--was she?" + +Isaac Worthington clutched the table and started from his chair. He grew +white to his lips with anger, and yet he knew that he must control +himself. + +"Mr. Bass," he said, "you have something to sell, and I have something to +buy--if the price is not ruinous. Let us confine ourselves to that. My +affairs and my son's affairs are neither here nor there. I ask you again, +how much do you want for this Consolidation Bill?" + +"N-no money will buy it." + +"What!" + +"C-consent to this marriage, c-consent to this marriage." There was yet +room for Isaac Worthington to be amazed, and for a while he stared up at +Jethro, speechless. + +"Is that your price?" he asked at last. + +"Th-that's my price," said Jethro. + +Isaac Worthington got up and went to the window and stood looking out +above the black mass of trees at the dome outlined against the +star-flecked sky. At first his anger choked him, and he could not think; +he had just enough reason left not to walk out of the door. But presently +habit asserted itself in him, too, and he began to reflect and calculate +in spite of his anger. It is strange that memory plays so small a part in +such a man. Before he allowed his mind to dwell on the fearful price, he +thought of his ambitions gratified; and yet he did not think then of the +woman to whom he had once confided those ambitions--the woman who was the +girl's mother. Perhaps Jethro was thinking of her. + +It may have been--I know not--that Isaac Worthington wondered at this +revelation of the character of Jethro Bass, for it was a revelation. For +this girl's sake Jethro was willing to forego his revenge, was willing at +the end of his days to allow the world to believe that he had sold out to +his enemy, or that he had been defeated by him. + +But when he thought of the marriage, Isaac Worthington ground his teeth. +A certain sentiment which we may call pride was so strong in him that he +felt ready to make almost any sacrifice to prevent it. To hinder it he +had quarrelled with his son, and driven him away, and threatened +disinheritance. The price was indeed heavy--the heaviest he could pay. +But the alternative--was not that heavier? To relinquish his dream of +power, to sink for a while into a crippled state; for he had spent large +sums, and one of those periodical depressions had come in the business of +the mills, and those Western investments were not looking so bright now. + +So, with his hands opening and closing in front of him, Isaac Worthington +fought out his battle. A terrible war, that, between ambition and +pride--a war to the knife. The issue may yet have been undecided when he +turned round to Jethro with a sneer which he could not resist. + +"Why doesn't she marry him without my consent?" + +In a moment Mr. Worthington knew he had gone too far. A certain kind of +an eye is an incomparable weapon, and armed men have been cowed by those +who possess it, though otherwise defenceless. Jethro Bass had that kind +of an eye. + +"G-guess you wouldn't understand if I was to tell you," he said. + +Mr. Worthington walked to the window again, perhaps to compose himself, +and then came back again. + +"Your proposition is," he said at length, "that if I give my consent to +this marriage, we are to have Bixby and the governor, and the +Consolidation Bill will become a law. Is that it?" + +"Th-that's it," said Jethro, taking his accustomed seat. + +"And this consent is to be given when the bill becomes a law?" + +"Given now. T-to-night." + +Mr. Worthington took another turn as far as the door, and suddenly came +and stood before Jethro. + +"Well, I consent." + +Jethro nodded toward the table. + +"Er--pen and paper there," he said. + +"What do you want me to do?" demanded Mr. Worthington. + +"W-write to Bob--write to Cynthy. Nice letters." + +"This is carrying matters with too high a hand, Mr. Bass. I will write +the letters to-morrow morning." It was intolerable that he, the first +citizen of Brampton, should have to submit to such humiliation. + +"Write 'em now. W-want to see 'em." + +"But if I give you my word they will be written and sent to you to-morrow +afternoon?" + +"T-too late," said Jethro; "sit down and write 'em now." + +Mr. Worthington went irresolutely to the table, stood for a minute, and +dropped suddenly into the chair there. He would have given anything +(except the realization of his ambitions) to have marched out of the room +and to have slammed the door behind him. The letter paper and envelopes +which Jethro had bought stood in a little pile, and Mr. Worthington +picked up the pen. The clock struck two as he wrote the date, as though +to remind him that he had written it wrong. If Flint could see him now! +Would Flint guess? Would anybody guess? He stared at the white paper, and +his rage came on again like a gust of wind, and he felt that he would +rather beg in the streets than write such a thing. And yet--and yet he +sat there. Surely Jethro Bass must have known that he could have taken no +more exquisite vengeance than this, to compel a man--and such a man--to +sit down in the white heat of passion--and write two letters of +forgiveness! Jethro sat by the window, to all appearances oblivious to +the tortures of his victim. + +He who has tried to write a note--the simplest note when his mind was +harassed, will understand something of Isaac Worthington's sensations. He +would no sooner get an inkling of what his opening sentence was to be +than the flames of his anger would rise and sweep it away. He could not +even decide which letter he was to write first: to his son, who had +defied him and who (the father knew in his heart) condemned him? or to +the schoolteacher, who was responsible for all his misery; who--Mr. +Worthington believed--had taken advantage of his son's youth by feminine +wiles of no mean order so as to gain possession of him. I can almost +bring myself to pity the first citizen of Brampton as he sits there with +his pen poised over the paper, and his enemy waiting to read those tender +epistles of forgiveness which he has yet to write. The clock has almost +got round to the half-hour again, and there is only the date--and a wrong +one at that. + +"My dear Miss Wetherell,--Circumstances (over which I have no +control?)"--ought he not to call her Cynthia? He has to make the letter +credible in the eyes of the censor who sits by the window. "My dear Miss +Wetherell, I have come to the conclusion"--two sheets torn up, or thrust +into Mr. Worthington's pocket. By this time words have begun to have a +colorless look. "My dear Miss Wetherell,--Having become convinced of the +sincere attachment which my son Robert has for you, I am writing him +to-night to give my full consent to his marriage. He has given me to +understand that you have hitherto persistently refused to accept him +because I have withheld that consent, and I take this opportunity of +expressing my admiration of this praiseworthy resolution on your part." +(If this be irony, it is sublime! Perhaps Isaac Worthington has a little +of the artist in him, and now that he is in the heat of creation has +forgotten the circumstances under which he is composing.) "My son's +happiness and career in life are of such moment to me that, until the +present, I could not give my sanction to what I at first regarded as a +youthful fancy. Now that, my son, for your sake, has shown his +determination and ability to make his own way in the world," (Isaac +Worthington was not a little proud of this) "I have determined that it is +wise to withdraw my opposition, and to recall Robert to his proper place, +which is near me. I am sure that my feelings in this matter will be clear +to you, and that you will look with indulgence upon any acts of mine +which sprang from a natural solicitation for the welfare and happiness of +my only child. I shall be in Brampton in a day or two, and I shall at +once give myself the pleasure of calling on you. Sincerely yours, Isaac +D. Worthington." + +Perhaps a little formal and pompous for some people, but an admirable and +conciliatory letter for the first citizen of Brampton. Written under such +trying circumstances, with I know not how many erasures and false starts, +it is little short of a marvel in art: neither too much said, nor too +little, for a relenting parent of Mr. Worthington's character, and I +doubt whether Talleyrand or Napoleon or even Machiavelli himself could +have surpassed it. The second letter, now that Mr. Worthington had got +into the swing, was more easily written. "My dear Robert" (it said), "I +have made up my mind to give my consent to your marriage to Miss +Wetherell, and I am ready to welcome you home, where I trust I shall see +you shortly. I have not been unimpressed by the determined manner in +which you have gone to work for yourself, but I believe that your place +is in Brampton, where I trust you will show the same energy in learning +to succeed me in the business which I have founded there as you have +exhibited in Mr. Broke's works. Affectionately, your Father." + +A very creditable and handsome letter for a forgiving father. When Mr. +Worthington had finished it, and had addressed both the envelopes, his +shame and vexation had, curious to relate, very considerably abated. Not +to go too deeply into the somewhat contradictory mental and cardiac +processes of Mr. Worthington, he had somehow tricked himself by that +magic exercise of wielding his pen into thinking that he was doing a +noble and generous action: into believing that in the course of a very +few days--or weeks, at the most, he would have recalled his erring son +and have given Cynthia his blessing. He would, he told himself, have been +forced eventually to yield when that paragon of inflexibility, Bob, +dictated terms to him at the head of the locomotive works. Better let the +generosity be on his (Mr. Worthington's) side. At all events, victory had +never been bought more cheaply. Humiliation, in Mr. Worthington's eyes, +had an element of publicity in it, and this episode had had none of that +element; and Jethro Bass, moreover, was a highwayman who had held a +pistol to his head. In such logical manner he gradually bolstered up +again his habitual poise and dignity. Next week, at the latest, men would +point to him as the head of the largest railroad interests in the state. + +He pushed back his chair, and rose, merely indicating the result of his +labors by a wave of his hand. And he stood in the window as Jethro Bass +got up and went to the table. I would that I had a pen able to describe +Jethro's sensations when he read them. Unfortunately, he is a man with +few facial expressions. But I believe that he was artist enough himself +to appreciate the perfections of the first citizen's efforts. After a +much longer interval than was necessary for their perusal, Mr. +Worthington turned. + +"G-guess they'll do," said Jethro, as he folded them up. He was too +generous not to indulge, for once, in a little well-deserved praise. +"Hain't underdone it, and hain't overdone it a mite hev you? M-man of +resource. Callate you couldn't hev beat that if you was to take a week to +it." + +"I think it only fair to tell you," said Mr. Worthington, picking up his +silk hat, "that in those letters I have merely anticipated a very little +my intentions in the matter. My son having proved his earnestness, I was +about to consent to the marriage of my own accord." + +"G-goin' to do it anyway--was you?" + +"I had so determined." + +"A-always thought you was high-minded," said Jethro. + +Mr. Worthington was on the point of giving a tart reply to this, but +restrained himself. + +"Then I may look upon the matter as settled?" he said. "The Consolidation +Bill is to become a law?" + +"Yes," said Jethro, "you'll get your bill." Mr. Worthington had got his +hand on the knob of the door when Jethro stopped him with a word. He had +no facial expressions, but he had an eye, as we have seen--an eye that +for the second time appeared terrible to his visitor. "Isaac +Worthington," he said, "a-act up to it. No trickery--or look out--look +out." + +Then, the incident being closed so far as he was concerned, Jethro went +back to his chair by the window, but it is to be recorded that Isaac +Worthington did not answer him immediately. Then he said:-- + +"You seem to forget that you are talking to a gentleman." + +"That's so," answered Jethro, "so you be." + +He sat where he was long after the sky had whitened and the stars had +changed from gold to silver and gone out, and the sunlight had begun to +glance upon the green leaves of the park. Perhaps he was thinking of the +life he had lived, which was spent now: of the men he had ruled, of the +victories he had gained from that place which would know him no more. He +had won the last and the greatest of his victories there, compared to +which the others had indeed been as vanities. Perhaps he looked back over +the highway of his life and thought of the woman whom he had loved, and +wondered what it had been if she had trod it by his side. Who will judge +him? He had been what he had been; and as the Era was, so was he. Verily, +one generation passeth away, and another generation cometh. + +When Mr. Isaac Worthington arrived at Mr. Duncan's house, where he was +staying, at three o'clock in the morning, he saw to his surprise light +from the library windows lying in bars across the lawn under the trees. +He found Mr. Duncan in that room with Somers, his son, who had just +returned from a seaside place, and they were discussing a very grave +event. Miss Janet Duncan had that day eloped with a gentleman who--to +judge from the photograph Somers held--was both handsome and +romantic-looking. He had long hair and burning eyes, and a title not to +be then verified, and he owned a castle near some place on the peninsula +of Italy not on the map. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +We are back in Brampton, owning, as we do, an annual pass over the Truro +Railroad. Cynthia has been there all the summer, and as it is now the +first of September, her school has begun again. I do not by any means +intend to imply that Brampton is not a pleasant place to spend the +summer: the number of its annual visitors is a refutation of that; but to +Cynthia the season had been one of great unhappiness. Several times Lem +Hallowell had stopped the stage in front of Ephraim's house to beg her to +go to Coniston, and Mr. Satterlee had come himself; but she could not +have borne to be there without Jethro. Nor would she go to Boston, though +urged by Miss Lucretia; and Mrs. Merrill and the girls had implored her +to join them at a seaside place on the Cape. + +Cynthia had made a little garden behind Ephraim's house, and she spent +the summer there with her flowers and her books, many of which Lem had +fetched from Coniston. Ephraim loved to sit there of an evening and smoke +his pipe and chat with Ezra Graves and the neighbors who dropped in. +Among these were Mr. Gamaliel Ives, who talked literature with Cynthia; +and Lucy Baird, his wife, who had taken Cynthia under her wing. I wish I +had time to write about Lucy Baird. And Mr. Jonathan Hill came--his +mortgage not having been foreclosed, after all. When Cynthia was alone +with Ephraim she often read to him,--generally from books of a martial +flavor,--and listened with an admirable hypocrisy to certain narratives +which he was in the habit of telling. + +They never spoke of Jethro. Ephraim was not a casuist, and his sense of +right and wrong came largely through his affections. It is safe to say +that he never made an analysis of the sorrow which he knew was afflicting +the girl, but he had had a general and most sympathetic understanding of +it ever since the time when Jethro had gone back to the capital; and +Ephraim never brought home his Guardian or his Clarion now, but read them +at the office, that their contents might not disturb her. + +No wonder that Cynthia was unhappy. The letters came, almost every day, +with the postmark of the town in New Jersey where Mr. Broke's locomotive +works were; and she answered them now (but oh, how scrupulously!), though +not every day. If the waters of love rose up through the grains of sand, +it was, at least, not Cynthia's fault. Hers were the letters of a friend. +She was reading such and such a book--had he read it? And he must not +work too hard. How could her letters be otherwise when Jethro Bass, her +benefactor, was at the capital working to defeat and perhaps to ruin +Bob's father? when Bob's father had insulted and persecuted her? She +ought not to have written at all; but the lapses of such a heroine are +very rare, and very dear. + +Yes, Cynthia's life was very bitter that summer, with but little hope on +the horizon of it. Her thoughts were divided between Bob and Jethro. Many +a night she lay awake resolving to write to Jethro, even to go to him, +but when morning came she could not bring herself to do so. I do not +think it was because she feared that he might believe her appeal would be +made in behalf of Bob's father. Knowing Jethro as she did, she felt that +it would be useless, and she could not bear to make it in vain; if the +memory of that evening in the tannery shed would not serve, nothing would +serve. And again--he had gone to avenge her. + +It was inevitable that she should hear tidings from the capital. Isaac +Worthington's own town was ringing with it. And as week after week of +that interminable session went by, the conviction slowly grew upon +Brampton that its first citizen had been beaten by Jethro Bass. Something +of Mr. Worthington's affairs was known: the mills, for instance, were not +being run to their full capacity. And then had come the definite news +that Mr. Worthington was beaten, a local representative having arrived +straight from the rotunda. Cynthia overheard Lem Hallowell telling it to +Ephraim, and she could not for the life of her help rejoicing, though she +despised herself for it. Isaac Worthington was humbled now, and Jethro +had humbled him to avenge her. Despite her grief over his return to that +life, there was something to compel her awe and admiration in the way he +had risen and done this thing after men had fallen from him. Her mother +had had something of these same feelings, without knowing why. + +People who had nothing but praise for him before were saying hard things +about Isaac Worthington that night. When the baron is defeated, the serfs +come out of their holes in the castle rock and fling their curses across +the moat. Cynthia slept but little, and was glad when the day came to +take her to her scholars, to ease her mind of the thoughts which tortured +it. + +And then, when she stopped at the post-office to speak to Ephraim on her +way homeward in the afternoon, she heard men talking behind the +partition, and she stood, as one stricken, listening beside the window. +Other tidings had come in the shape of a telegram. The first rumor had +been false. Brampton had not yet received the details, but the +Consolidation Bill had gone into the House that morning, and would be a +law before the week was out. A part of it was incomprehensible to +Cynthia, but so much she had understood. She did not wait to speak to +Ephraim, and she was going out again when a man rushed past her and +through the partition door. Cynthia paused instinctively, for she +recognized him as one of the frequenters of the station and a bearer of +news. + +"Jethro's come home, boys," he shouted; "come in on the four o'clock, and +went right off to Coniston. Guess he's done for, this time, for certain. +Looks it. By Godfrey, he looks eighty! Callate his day's over, from the +way the boys talked on the train." + +Cynthia lingered to hear no more, and went out, dazed, into the September +sunshine: Jethro beaten, and broken, and gone to Coniston. Resolution +came to her as she walked. Arriving home, she wrote a little note and +left it on the table for Ephraim; and going out again, ran by the back +lane to Mr. Sherman's livery stable behind the Brampton House, and in +half an hour was driving along that familiar road to Coniston, alone; for +she had often driven Jethro's horses, and knew every turn of the way. And +as she gazed at the purple mountain through the haze and drank in the +sweet scents of the year's fulness, she was strangely happy. There was +the village green in the cool evening light, and the flagstaff with its +tip silvered by the departing sun. She waved to Rias and Lem and Moses at +the store, but she drove on to the tannery house, and hitched the horse +at the rough granite post, and went in, and through the house, softly, to +the kitchen. + +Jethro was standing in the doorway, and did not turn. He may have thought +she was Millicent Skinner. Cynthia could see his face. It was older, +indeed, and lined and worn, but that fearful look of desolation which she +had once surprised upon it, and which she in that instant feared to see, +was not there. Jethro's soul was at peace, though Cynthia could not +understand why it was so. She stole to him and flung her arms about his +neck, and with a cry he seized her and held her against him for I know +not how long. Had it been possible to have held her there always, he +would never have let her go. At last he looked down into her tear-wet +face, into her eyes that were shining with tears. + +"D-done wrong, Cynthy." + +Cynthia did not answer that, for she remembered how she, too, had exulted +when she had believed him to have accomplished Isaac Worthington's +downfall. Now that he had failed, and she was in his arms, it was not for +her to judge--only to rejoice. + +"Didn't look for you to come back--didn't expect it." + +"Uncle Jethro!" she faltered. Love for her had made him go, and she would +not say that, either. + +"D-don't hate me, Cynthy--don't hate me?" + +She shook her head. + +"Love me--a little?" + +She reached up her hands and brushed back his hair, tenderly, from his +forehead. Such--a loving gesture was her answer. + +"You are going to stay here always, now," she said, in a low voice, "you +are never going away again." + +"G-goin' to stay always," he answered. Perhaps he was thinking of the +hillside clearing in the forest--who knows! "You'll come-sometime, +Cynthy--sometime?" + +"I'll come every Saturday and Sunday, Uncle Jethro," she said, smiling up +at him. "Saturday is only two days away, now. I can hardly wait." + +"Y-you'll come sometime?" + +"Uncle Jethro, do you think I'll be away from you, except--except when I +have to?" + +"C-come and read to me--won't you--come and read?" + +"Of course I will!" + +"C-call to mind the first book you read to me, Cynthy?" + +"It was 'Robinson Crusoe,'" she said. + +"'R-Robinson Crusoe.' Often thought of that book. Know some of it by +heart. R-read it again, sometime, Cynthy?" + +She looked up at him a little anxiously. His eyes were on the great hill +opposite, across Coniston Water. + +"I will, indeed, Uncle Jethro, if we can find it," she answered. + +"Guess I can find it," said Jethro. "R-remember when you saw him makin' a +ship?" + +"Yes," said Cynthia, "and I had my feet in the pool." + +The book had made a profound impression upon Jethro, partly because +Cynthia had first read it to him, and partly for another reason. The +isolation of Crusoe; depicted by Defoe's genius, had been comparable to +his own isolation, and he had pondered upon it much of late. Yes, and +upon a certain part of another book which he had read earlier in life: +Napoleon had ended his days on St. Helena. + +They walked out under the trees to the brook-side and stood listening to +the tinkling of the cowbells in the wood lot beyond. The light faded +early on these September evenings, and the smoky mist had begun to rise +from the water when they turned back again. The kitchen windows were +already growing yellow, and through them the faithful Millicent could be +seen bustling about in her preparations for supper. But Cynthia, having +accomplished her errand, would not go in. She could not have borne to +have any one drive back with her to Brampton then, and she must not be +late upon the road. + +"I will come Friday evening, Uncle Jethro," she said, as she kissed him +and gave one last, lingering look at his face. Had it been possible, she +would not have left him, and on her way to Brampton through the gathering +darkness she mused anxiously upon that strange calmness he had shown +after defeat. + +She drove her horse on to the floor of Mr. Sherman's stable, that +gentleman himself gallantly assisting her to alight, and walked homeward +through the lane. Ephraim had not yet returned from the postoffice, which +did not close until eight, and Cynthia smiled when she saw the utensils +of his cooking-kit strewn on the hearth. In her absence he invariably +unpacked and used it, and of course Cynthia at once set herself to +cleaning and packing it again. After that she got her own supper--a very +simple affair--and was putting the sitting room to rights when Ephraim +came thumping in. + +"Well, I swan!" he exclaimed when he saw her. "I didn't look for you to +come back so soon, Cynthy. Put up the kit--hev you?" He stood in front of +the fireplace staring with apparent interest at the place where the kit +had been, and added in a voice which he strove to make quite casual, "How +be Jethro?" + +"He looks older, Cousin Eph," she answered, after a pause, "and I think +he is very tired. But he seems he seems more tranquil and contented than +I hoped to find him." + +"I want to know," said Ephraim. "I am glad to hear it. Glad you went up, +Cynthy--you done right to go. + +"I'd have gone with you, if you'd only told me. I'll git a chance to go +up Sunday." + +There was an air of repressed excitement about the veteran which did not +escape Cynthia. He held two letters in his hand, and, being a postmaster, +he knew the handwriting on both. One had come from that place in New +Jersey, and drew no comment. But the other! That one had been postmarked +at the capital, and as he had sat at his counter at the post-office +waiting for closing time he bad turned it over and over with many +ejaculations and futile guesses. Past master of dissimulation that he +was, he had made up his mind--if he should find Cynthia at home--to lay +the letters indifferently on the table and walk into his bedroom. This +campaign he now proceeded to carry out. + +Cynthia smiled again when he was gone, and shook her head and picked up +the letters: Bob's was uppermost and she read that first, without a +thought of the other one. And she smiled as she read for Bob had had a +promotion. He was not yet at the head of the locomotive works, he +hastened to add, for fear that Cynthia might think that Mr. Broke had +resigned the presidency in his favor; and Cynthia never failed to laugh +at these little facetious asides. He was now earning the princely sum of +ninety dollars a month--not enough to marry on, alas! On Saturday nights +he and Percy Broke scrubbed as much as possible of the grime from their +hands and faces and went to spend Sunday at Elberon, the Broke place on +the Hudson; from whence Miss Sally Broke, if she happened to be at home, +always sent Cynthia her love. As Cynthia is still a heroine, I shall not +describe how she felt about Sally Broke's love. There was plenty of Bob's +own in the letter. Cynthia would got have blamed him if he bad fallen in +love with Miss Broke. It seemed to her little short of miraculous that, +amidst such surroundings, he could be true to her. + +After a period which was no briefer than that usually occupied by Bob's +letters, Cynthia took the other one from her lap, and stared at it in +much perplexity before she tore it open. We have seen its contents over +Mr. Worthington's shoulder, and our hearts will not stop beating--as +Cynthia's did. She read it twice before the full meaning of it came to +her, and after that she could not well mistake it,--the language being so +admirable in every way. She sat very still for a long while, and +presently she heard Ephraim go out. But Cynthia did not move. Mr. +Worthington relented and Bob recalled! The vista of happiness suddenly +opened up, widened and widened until it was too bright for Cynthia's +vision, and she would compel her mind to dwell on another prospect,--that +of the father and son reconciled. Although her temples throbbed, she +tried to analyze the letter. It implied that Mr. Worthington had allowed +Bob to remain away on a sort of probation; it implied that it had been +dictated by a strong paternal love mingled with a strong paternal +justice. And then there was the appeal to her: "You will look with +indulgence upon any acts of mine which sprang from a natural solicitation +for the welfare and happiness of my only child." A terrible insight is +theirs to whom it is given to love as Cynthia loved. + +Suddenly there came a knock which frightened her, for her mind was +running on swiftly from point to point: had, indeed, flown as far as +Coniston by now, and she was thinking of that strange look of peace on +Jethro's face which had troubled her. One letter she thrust into her +dress, but the other she laid aside, and her knees trembled under her as +she rose and went into the entry and raised the latch and opened the +door. There was a moon, and the figure in the frock coat and the silk hat +was the one which she expected to see. The silk hat came off very +promptly. + +"I hope I am not disturbing you, Miss Wetherell," said the owner of it. + +"No," answered Cynthia, faintly. + +"May I come in?" + +Cynthia held open the door a little wider, and Mr. Worthington walked in. +He seemed very majestic and out of place in the little house which +Gabriel Post had built, and he carried into it some of the atmosphere of +the walnut and high ceilings of his own mansion. His manner of laying his +hat, bottom up, on the table, and of unbuttoning his coat, subtly +indicated the honor which he was conferring upon the place. And he eyed +Cynthia, standing before him in the lamplight, with a modification of the +hawk-like look which was meant to be at once condescending and +conciliatory. He did not imprint a kiss upon her brow, as some +prospective fathers-in-law would have done. But his eyes, perhaps +involuntarily, paid a tribute to her personal appearance which heightened +her color. She might not, after all, be such a discredit to the +Worthington family. + +"Won't you sit down?" she asked. + +"Thank you, Cynthia," he said; "I hope I may now be allowed to call you +Cynthia?" + +She did not answer him, but sat down herself, and he followed her +example; with his eyes still upon her. + +"You have doubtless received my letter," began Mr. Worthington. "I only +arrived in Brampton an hour ago, but I thought it best to come to you at +once, under the circumstances." + +"Yes," replied Cynthia, "I received the letter." + +"I am glad," said Mr. Worthington. He was beginning to be a little taken +aback by her calmness and her apparent absence of joy. It was scarcely +the way in which a school-teacher should receive the advances of the +first citizen, come to give a gracious consent to her marriage with his +son. Had he known it, Cynthia was anything but calm. "I am glad," he +said, "because I took pains to explain the exact situation in that +letter, and to set forth my own sentiments. I hope you understood them." + +"Yes, I understood them," said Cynthia, in a low tone. + +This was enigmatical, to say the least. But Mr. Worthington had come with +such praiseworthy intentions that he was disposed to believe that the +girl was overwhelmed by the good fortune which had suddenly overtaken +her. He was therefore disposed to be a little conciliatory. + +"My conduct may have appeared harsh to you," he continued. "I will not +deny that I opposed the matter at first. Robert was still in college, and +he has a generous, impressionable nature which he inherits from his poor +mother--the kind of nature likely to commit a rash act which would ruin +his career. I have since become convinced that he has--ahem--inherited +likewise a determination of purpose and an ability to get on in the world +which I confess I had underestimated. My friend, Mr. Broke, has written +me a letter about him, and tells me that he has already promoted him." + +"Yes," said Cynthia. + +"You hear from him?" inquired Mr. Worthington, giving her a quick glance. + +"Yes," said Cynthia, her color rising a little. + +"And yet," said Mr. Worthington, slowly, "I have been under the +impression that you have persistently refused to marry him." + +"That is true," she answered. + +"I cannot refrain from complimenting you, Cynthia, upon such rare +conduct," said he. "You will be glad to know that it has contributed more +than anything else toward my estimation of your character, and has +strengthened me in my resolution that I am now doing right. It may be +difficult for you to understand a father's feelings. The complete +separation from my only son was telling on me severely, and I could not +forget that you were the cause of that separation. I knew nothing about +you, except--" He hesitated, for she had turned to him. + +"Except what?" she asked. + +Mr. Worthington coughed. Mr. Flint had told him, that very morning, of +her separation from Jethro, and of the reasons which people believed had +caused it. Unfortunately, we have not time to go into that conversation +with Mr. Flint, who had given a very good account of Cynthia indeed. +After all (Mr. Worthington reflected), he had consented to the marriage, +and there was no use in bringing Jethro's name into the conversation. +Jethro would be forgotten soon. + +"I will not deny to You that I had other plans for my son," he said. "I +had hoped that he would marry a daughter of a friend of mine. You must be +a little indulgent with parents, Cynthia," he added with a little smile, +"we have our castles in the air, too. Sometimes, as in this case, by a +wise provision of providence they go astray. I suppose you have heard of +Miss Duncan's marriage." + +"No," said Cynthia. + +"She ran off with a worthless Italian nobleman. I believe, on the whole," +he said, with what was an extreme complaisance for the first citizen, +"that I have reason to congratulate myself upon Robert's choice. I have +made inquiries about you, and I find that I have had the pleasure of +knowing your mother, whom I respected very much. And your father, I +understand, came of very good people, and was forced by circumstances to +adopt the means of livelihood he did. My attention has been called to the +letters he wrote to the Guardian, which I hear have been highly praised +by competent critics, and I have ordered a set of them for the files of +the library. You yourself, I find, are highly thought of in Brampton" (a, +not unimportant factor, by the way); "you have been splendidly educated, +and are a lady. In short, Cynthia, I have come to give my formal consent +to your engagement to my son Robert." + +"But I am not engaged to him," said Cynthia. + +"He will be here shortly, I imagine," said Mr. Worthington. + +Cynthia was trembling more than ever by this time. She was very angry, +and she had found it very difficult to repress the things which she had +been impelled to speak. She did not hate Isaac Worthington now--she +despised him. He had not dared to mention Jethro, who had been her +benefactor, though he had done his best to have her removed from the +school because of her connection with Jethro. + +"Mr. Worthington," she said, "I have not yet made up my mind whether I +shall marry your son." + +To say that Mr. Worthington's breath was taken away when he heard these +words would be to use a mild expression. He doubted his senses. + +"What?" he exclaimed, starting forward, "what do you mean?" + +Cynthia hesitated a moment. She was not frightened, but she was trying to +choose her words without passion. + +"I refused to marry him," she said, "because you withheld your consent, +and I did not wish to be the cause of a quarrel between you. It was not +difficult to guess your feelings toward me, even before certain things +occurred of which I will not speak. I did my best, from the very first, +to make Bob give up the thought of marrying me, although I loved and +honored him. Loving him as I do, I do not want to be the cause of +separating him from his father, and of depriving him of that which is +rightfully his. But something was due to myself. If I should ever make up +my mind to marry him," continued Cynthia, looking at Mr. Worthington +steadfastly, "it will not be because your consent is given or withheld." + +"Do you tell me this to my face?" exclaimed Mr. Worthington, now in a +rage himself at such unheard-of presumption. + +"To your face," said Cynthia, who got more self-controlled as he grew +angry. "I believe that that consent, which you say you have given freely, +was wrung from you." + +It was unfortunate that the first citizen might not always have Mr. Flint +by him to restrain and caution him. But Mr. Flint could have no command +over his master's sensations, and anger and apprehension goaded Mr. +Worthington to indiscretion. + +"Jethro Bass told you this!" he cried out. + +"No," Cynthia answered, not in the least surprised by the admission, "he +did not tell me--but he will if I ask him. I guessed it from your letter. +I heard that he had come back to-day, and I went to Coniston to see him, +and he told me--he had been defeated." + +Tears came into her eyes at the remembrance of the scene in the tannery +house that afternoon, and she knew now why Jethro's face had worn that +look of peace. He had made his supreme sacrifice--for her. No, he had +told her nothing, and she might never have known. She sat thinking of the +magnitude of this thing Jethro had done, and she ceased to speak, and the +tears coursed down her cheeks unheeded. + +Isaac Worthington had a habit of clutching things when he was in a rage, +and now he clutched the arms of the chair. He had grown white. He was +furious with her, furious with himself for having spoken that which might +be construed into a confession. He had not finished writing the letters +before he had stood self-justified, and he had been self-justified ever +since. Where now were these arguments so wonderfully plausible? Where +were the refutations which he had made ready in case of a barely possible +need? He had gone into the Pelican House intending to tell Jethro of his +determination to agree to the marriage. That was one. He had done +so--that was another--and he had written the letters that Jethro might be +convinced of his good will. There were still more, involving Jethro's +character for veracity and other things. Summoning these, he waited for +Cynthia to have done speaking, but when she had finished--he said +nothing. He looked a her, and saw the tears on her face, and he saw that +she had completely forgotten his presence. + +For the life of him, Isaac Worthington could not utter a word. He was a +man, as we know, who did not talk idly, and he knew that Cynthia would +not hear what he said; and arguments and denunciations lose their effect +when repeated. Again, he knew that she would not believe him. Never in +his life had Isaac Worthington been so ignored, so put to shame, as by +this school-teacher of Brampton. Before, self-esteem and sophistry had +always carried him off between them; sometimes, in truth, with a +wound--the wound had always healed. But he had a feeling, to-night, that +this woman had glanced into his soul, and had turned away from it. As he +looked at her the texture of his anger changed; he forgot for the first +time that which he had been pleased to think of as her position in life, +and he feared her. He had matched his spirit against hers. + +Before long the situation became intolerable to him, for Cynthia still +sat silent. She was thinking of how she had blamed Jethro for going back +to that life, even though his love for her had made him do it. But Isaac +Worthington did not know of what she was thinking--he thought only of +himself and his predicament. He could not remain, and yet he could not +go--with dignity. He who had come to bestow could not depart like a +whipped dog. + +Suddenly a fear transfixed him: suppose that this woman, from whom he +could not hide the truth, should tell his son what he had done. Bob would +believe her. Could he, Isaac Worthington, humble his pride and ask her to +keep her suspicions to herself? He would then be acknowledging that they +were more than suspicions. If he did so, he would have to appear to +forgive her in spite of what she had said to him. And Bob was coming +home. Could he tell Bob that he had changed his mind and withdrawn his +consent to the marriage? There world be the reason, and again Bob would +believe her. And again, if he withdrew his consent, there was Jethro to +reckon with. Jethro must have a weapon still, Mr. Worthington thought, +although he could not imagine what it might be. As Isaac Worthington sat +there, thinking, it grew clear, to him at last that there was but one +exit out of a, very desperate situation. + +He glanced at Cynthia again, this time appraisingly. She had dried her +eyes, but she made no effort to speak. After all, she would make such a +wife for his son as few men possessed. He thought of Sarah Hollingsworth. +She had been a good woman, but there had been many times when he had +deplored--especially in his travels the lack of other qualities in his +wife. Cynthia, he thought, had these qualities,--so necessary for the +wife of one who would succeed to power--though whence she had got them +Isaac Worthington could not imagine. She would become a personage; she +was a woman of whom they had no need to be ashamed at home or abroad. +Having completed these reflections, he broke the silence. + +"I am sorry that you should have been misled into thinking such a thing +as you have expressed, Cynthia," he said, "but I believe that I can +understand something of the feelings which prompted you. It is natural +that you should have a resentment against me after everything that has +happened. It is perhaps natural, too, that I should lose my temper under +the circumstances. Let us forget it. And I trust that in the future we +shall grow into the mutual respect and affection which our nearer +relationship will demand." + +He rose, and took up his hat, and Cynthia rose too. There was something +very fine, he thought, about her carriage and expression as she stood in +front of him. + +"There is my hand," he said,--"will you take it?" + +"I will take it," Cynthia answered, "because you are Bob's father." + +And then Mr. Worthington went away. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +I am able to cite one notable instance, at least, to disprove the saying +a part of which is written above, and I have yet to hear of a case in +which a gentleman ever hesitated a single instant on account of the first +letter of a lady's last name. I know, indeed, of an occasion when +locomotives could not go fast enough, when thirty miles an hour seemed a +snail's pace to a young main who sat by the open window of a train that +crept northward on a certain hazy September morning up the beautiful +valley of a broad river which we know. + +It was after three o'clock before he caught sight of the familiar crest +of Farewell Mountain, and the train ran into Harwich. How glad he was to +see everybody there, whether he knew them or not! He came near hugging +the conductor of the Truro accommodation; who, needless to say, did not +ask him for a ticket, or even a pass. And then the young man went forward +and almost shook the arms off of the engineer and the fireman, and +climbed into the cab, and actually drove the engine himself as far as +Brampton, where it arrived somewhat ahead of schedule, having taken some +of the curves and bridges at a speed a little beyond the law. The +engineer was richer by five dollars, and the son of a railroad president +is a privileged character, anyway. + +Yes, here was Brampton, and in spite of the haze the sun had never shone +so brightly on the terraced steeple of the meeting-house. He leaped out +of the cab almost before the engine had stopped, and beamed upon +everybody on the platform,--even upon Mr. Dodd, who chanced to be there. +In a twinkling the young man is in Mr. Sherman's hack, and Mr. Sherman +galloping his horse down Brampton Street, the young man with his head out +of the window, smiling; grinning would be a better word. Here are the +iron mastiffs, and they seem to be grinning, too. The young man flings +open the carriage door and leaps out, and the door is almost broken from +its hinges by the maple tree. He rushes up the steps and through the +hall, and into the library, where the first citizen and his seneschal are +sitting. + +"Hello, Father, you see I didn't waste any time," he cried; grasping his +father's hand in a grip that made Mr. Worthington wince. "Well, you are a +trump, after all. We're both a little hot-headed, I guess, and do things +we're sorry for,--but that's all over now, isn't it? I'm sorry. I might +have known you'd come round when you found out for yourself what kind of +a girl Cynthia was. Did you ever see anybody like her?" + +Mr. Flint turned his back, and started to walk out of the room. + +"Don't go, Flint, old boy," Bob called out, seizing Mr. Flint's hand, +too. "I can't stay but a minute, now. How are you?" + +"All right, Bob," answered Mr. Flint, with a curious, kindly look in his +eyes that was not often there. "I'm glad to see you home. I have to go to +the bank." + +"Well, Father," said Bob, "school must be out, and I imagine you know +where I'm going. I just thought I'd stop in to--to thank you, and get a +benediction." + +"I am very happy to have you back, Robert," replied Mr. Worthington, and +it was true. It would have been strange indeed if some tremor of +sentiment had not been in his voice and some gleam of pride in his eye as +he looked upon his son. + +"So you saw her, and couldn't resist her," said Bob. "Wasn't that how it +happened?" + +Mr. Worthington sat down again at the desk, and his hand began to stray +among the papers. He was thinking of Mr. Flint's exit. + +"I do not arrive at my decisions quite in that way, Robert," he answered. + +"But you have seen her?" + +"Yes, I have seen her." + +There was a hesitation, an uneasiness in his father's tone for which Bob +could not account, and which he attributed to emotion. He did not guess +that this hour of supreme joy could hold for Isaac Worthington another +sensation. + +"Isn't she the finest girl in the world?" he demanded. "How does she +seem? How does she look?" + +"She looks extremely well," said Mr. Worthington, who had now schooled +his voice. "In fact, I am quite ready to admit that Cynthia Wetherell +possesses the qualifications necessary for your wife. If she had not, I +should never have written you." + +Bob walked to the window. + +"Father;" he said, speaking with a little difficulty, "I can't tell you +how much I appreciate your--your coming round. I wanted to do the right +thing, but I just couldn't give up such a girl as that." + +"We shall let bygones be bygones, Robert," answered Mr. Worthington, +clearing his throat. + +"She never would have me without your consent. By the way," he cried, +turning suddenly, "did she say she'd have me now?" + +"I believe," said Mr. Worthington, clearing his throat again, "I believe +she reserved her decision." + +"I must be off," said Bob, "she goes to Coniston on Fridays. I'll drive +her out. Good-by, Father." + +He flew out of the room, ran into Mrs. Holden, whom he astonished by +saluting on the cheek, and astonished even more by asking her to tell +Silas to drive his black horses to Gabriel Post's house--as the cottage +was still known in Brampton. And having hastily removed some of the +cinders, he flew out of the door and reached the park-like space in the +middle of Brampton Street. Then he tried to walk decorously, but it was +hard work. What if she should not be in? + +The door and windows of the little house were open that balmy afternoon, +and the bees were buzzing among the flowers which Cynthia had planted on +either side of the step. Bob went up the path, and caught a glimpse of +her through the entry standing in the sitting room. She was, indeed, +waiting for the Coniston stage, and she did not see him. Shall I destroy +the mental image of the reader who has known her so long by trying to +tell what she looked like? Some heroines grow thin and worn by the +troubles which they are forced to go through. Cynthia was not this kind +of a heroine. She was neither tall nor short, and the dark blue gown +which she wore set off (so Bob thought) the curves of her figure to +perfection. Her face had become a little more grave--yes, and more noble; +and the eyes and mouth had an indescribable, womanly sweetness. + +He stood for a moment outside the doorway gazing at her; hesitating to +desecrate that revery, which seemed to him to have a touch of sadness in +it. And then she turned her head, slowly, and saw him, and her lips +parted, and a startled look came into her eyes, but she did not move. He +came quickly into the room and stopped again, quivering from head to foot +with the passion which the sight of her never failed to unloose within +him. Still she did not speak, but her lip trembled, and the love leaping +in his eyes kindled a yearning in hers,--a yearning she was powerless to +resist. He may by that strange power have drawn her toward him--he never +knew. Neither of them could have given evidence on that marvellous +instant when the current bridged the space between them. He could not say +whether this woman whom he had seized by force before had shown alike +vitality in her surrender. He only knew that her arms were woven about +his neck, and that the kiss of which he had dreamed was again on his +lips, and that he felt once more her wonderful, supple body pressed +against his, and her heart beating, and her breast heaving. And he knew +that the strength of the love in her which he had gained was beyond +estimation. + +Thus for a time they swung together in ethereal space, breathless with +the motion of their flight. The duration of such moments is--in +words--limitless. Now he held her against him, and again he held her away +that his eyes might feast upon hers until she dropped her lashes and the +crimson tide flooded into her face and she hid it again in the refuge she +had longed for,--murmuring his name. But at last, startled by some sound +without and so brought back to earth, she led him gently to the window at +the side and looked up at him searchingly. He was tanned no longer. + +"I was afraid you had been working too hard," she said. + +"So you do love me?" was Bob's answer to this remark. + +Cynthia smiled at him with her eyes: gravely, if such a thing may be said +of a smile. + +"Bob, how can you ask?" + +"Oh, Cynthia," he cried, "if you knew what I have been through, you +wouldn't have held out, I know it. I began to think I should never have +you." + +"But you have me now," she said, and was silent. + +"Why do you look like that?" he asked. + +She smiled up at him again. + +"I, too, have suffered, Bob," she said. "And I have thought of you night +and day." + +"God bless you, sweetheart," he cried, and kissed her again,--many times. +"It's all right now, isn't it? I knew my father would give his consent +when he found out what you were." + +The expression of pain which had troubled him crossed her face again, and +she put her hand on his shoulder. + +"Listen, dearest," she said, "I love you. I am doing this for you. You +must understand that." + +"Why, yes, Cynthia, I understand it--of course I do," he answered, +perplexed. "I understand it, but I don't deserve it." + +"I want you to know," she continued in a low voice, "that I should have +married you anyway. I--I could not have helped it." + +"Cynthia!" + +"If you were to go back to the locomotive works' tomorrow, I would marry +you." + +"On ninety dollars a month?" exclaimed Bob. + +"If you wanted me," she said. + +"Wanted you! I could live in a log cabin with you the rest of my life." + +She drew down his face to hers, and kissed him. + +"But I wished you to be reconciled with your father," she said; "I could +not bear to come between you. You--you are reconciled, aren't you?" + +"Indeed, we are," he said. + +"I am glad, Bob," she answered simply. "I should not have been happy if I +had driven you away from the place where you should be, which is your +home." + +"Wherever you are will be my home; sweetheart," he said, and pressed her +to him once more. + +At length, looking past his shoulder into the street, she saw Lem +Hallowell pulling up the Brampton stage before the door. + +"Bob," she said, "I must go to Coniston and see Uncle Jethro. I promised +him." + +Bob's answer was to walk into the entry, where he stood waving the most +joyous of greetings at the surprised stage driver. + +"I guess you won't get anybody here, Lem," he called out. + +"But, Bob," protested Cynthia, from within, afraid to show her face just +then, "I have to go, I promised. And--and I want to go," she added when +he turned. + +"I'm running a stage to Coniston to-day myself, Lem," said he "and I'm +going to steal your best passenger." + +Lemuel immediately flung down his reins and jumped out of the stage and +came up the path and into the entry, where he stood confronting Cynthia. + +"Hev you took him, Cynthy?" he demanded. + +"Yes, Lem," she answered, "won't you congratulate me?" + +The warm-hearted stage driver did congratulate her in a most unmistakable +manner. + +"I think a sight of her, Bob," he said after he had shaken both of Bob's +hands and brushed his own eyes with his coat sleeve. "I've knowed her so +long--" Whereupon utterance failed him, and he ran down the path and +jumped into his stage again and drove off. + +And then Cynthia sent Bob on an errand--not a very long one, and while he +was gone, she sat down at the table and tried to realize her happiness, +and failed. In less than ten minutes Bob had come back with Cousin +Ephraim, as fast as he could hobble. He flung his arms around her, stick +and all, and he was crying. It is a fact that old soldiers sometimes cry. +But his tears did not choke his utterance. + +"Great Tecumseh!" said Cousin Ephraim, "so you've went and done it, +Cynthy. Siege got a little mite too hot. I callated she'd capitulate in +the end, but she held out uncommon long." + +"That she did," exclaimed Bob, feelingly. + +"I--I was tellin' Bob I hain't got nothin' against him," continued +Ephraim. + +"Oh, Cousin Eph," said Cynthia, laughing in spite of herself, and +glancing at Bob, "is that all you can say?" + +"Cousin Eph's all right," said Bob, laughing too. "We understand each +other." + +"Callate we do," answered Ephraim. "I'll go so far as to say there hain't +nobody I'd ruther see you marry. Guess I'll hev to go back to the kit, +now. What's to become of the old pensioner, Cynthy?" + +"The old pensioner needn't worry," said Cynthia. + +Then drove up Silas the Silent, with Bob's buggy and his black trotters. +All of Brampton might see them now; and all of Brampton did see them. +Silas got out,--his presence not being required,--and Cynthia was helped +in, and Bob got in beside her, and away they went, leaving Ephraim waving +his stick after them from the doorstep. + +It is recorded against the black trotters that they made very poor time +to Coniston that day, though I cannot discover that either of them was +lame. Lem Hallowell, who was there nearly an hour ahead of them, declares +that the off horse had a bunch of branches in his mouth. Perhaps Bob held +them in on account of the scenery that September afternoon. Incomparable +scenery! I doubt if two lovers of the renaissance ever wandered through a +more wondrous realm of pleasance--to quote the words of the poet. Spots +in it are like a park, laid out by that peerless landscape gardener, +nature: dark, symmetrical pine trees on the sward, and maples in the +fulness of their leaf, and great oaks on the hillsides, and, coppices; +and beyond, the mountain, the evergreens massed like cloud-shadows on its +slopes; and all-trees and coppice and mountain--flattened by the haze +until they seemed woven in the softest of blues and blue greens into one +exquisite picture of an ancient tapestry. I, myself, have seen these +pictures in that country, and marvelled. + +So they drove on through that realm, which was to be their realm, and +came all too soon to Coniston green. Lem Hallowell had spread the +well-nigh incredible news, that Cynthia Wetherell was to marry the son of +the mill-owner and railroad president of Brampton, and it seemed to +Cynthia that every man and woman and child of the village was gathered at +the store. Although she loved them, every one, she whispered something to +Bob when she caught sight of that group on the platform, and he spoke to +the trotters. Thus it happened that they flew by, and were at the tannery +house before they knew it; and Cynthia, all unaided, sprang out of the +buggy and ran in, alone. She found Jethro sitting outside of the kitchen +door with a volume on his knee, and she saw that the print of it was +large, and she knew that the book was "Robinson Crusoe." + +Cynthia knelt down on the grass beside him and caught his hands in hers. + +"Uncle Jethro," she said, "I am going to marry Bob Worthington." + +"Yes, Cynthy," he answered. And taking the initiative for the first time +in his life, he stooped down and kissed her. + +"I knew--you would be happy--in my happiness," she said, the tears +brimming in her eyes. + +"N-never have been so happy, Cynthy,--never have." + +"Uncle Jethro, I never will desert you. I shall always take care of you." + +"R-read to me sometimes, Cynthy--r-read to me?" + +But she could not answer him. She was sobbing on the pages of that book +he had given her--long ago. + +I like to dwell on happiness, and I am reluctant to leave these people +whom I have grown to love. Jethro Bass lived to take Cynthia's children +down by the brook and to show them the pictures, at least, in that +wonderful edition of "Robinson Crusoe." He would never depart from the +tannery house, but Cynthia went to him there, many times a week. There is +a spot not far from the Coniston road, and five miles distant alike from +Brampton and Coniston, where Bob Worthington built his house, and where +he and Cynthia dwelt many years; and they go there to this day, in the +summer-time. It stands in the midst of broad lands, and the ground in +front of it slopes down to Coniston Water, artificially widened here by a +stone dam into a little lake. From the balcony of the summer-house which +overhangs the lake there is a wonderful view of Coniston Mountain, and +Cynthia Worthington often sits there with her sewing or her book, +listening to the laughter of her children, and thinking, sometimes, of +bygone days. + + + + +AFTERWORD + +The reality of the foregoing pages has to the author, at least, become so +vivid that he regrets the necessity of having to add an afterword. Every +novel is, to some extent, a compound of truth and fiction, and he has +done his best to picture conditions as they were, and to make the spirit +of his book true. Certain people who were living in St. Louis during the +Civil War have been mentioned as the originals of characters in "The +Crisis," and there are houses in that city which have been pointed out as +fitting descriptions in that novel. An author has, frequently, people, +houses, and localities in mind when he writes; but he changes them, +sometimes very materially, in the process of literary construction. + +It is inevitable, perhaps, that many people of a certain New England +state will recognize Jethro Bass. There are different opinions extant +concerning the remarkable original of this character; ardent defenders +and detractors of his are still living, but all agree that he was a +strange man of great power. The author disclaims any intention of writing +a biography of him. Some of the things set down in this book he did, and +others he did not do. Some of the anecdotes here related concerning him +are, in the main, true, and for this material the author acknowledges his +indebtedness particularly to Colonel Thomas B. Cheney of Ashland, New +Hampshire, and to other friends who have helped him. Jethro Bass was +typical of his Era, and it is of the Era that this book attempts to +treat. + +Concerning the locality where Jethro Bass was born and lived, it will and +will not be recognized. It would have been the extreme of bad taste to +have put into these pages any portraits which might have offended +families or individuals, and in order that it may be known that the +author has not done so he has written this Afterword. Nor has he +particularly chosen for the field of this novel a state of which he is a +citizen, and for which he has a sincere affection. The conditions here +depicted, while retaining the characteristics of the locality, he +believes to be typical of the Era over a large part of the United States. + +Many of the Puritans who came to New England were impelled to emigrate +from the old country, no doubt, by an aversion to pulling the forelock as +well as by religious principles, and the spirit of these men prevailed +for a certain time after the Revolution was fought. Such men lived and +ruled in Coniston before the rise of Jethro Bass. + +Self-examination is necessary for the moral health of nations as well as +men, and it is the most hopeful of signs that in the United States we are +to-day going through a period of self-examination. + +We shall do well to ascertain the causes which have led us gradually to +stray from the political principles laid down by our forefathers for all +the world to see. Some of us do not even know what those principles were. +I have met many intelligent men, in different states of the Union, who +could not even repeat the names of the senators who sat for them in +Congress. Macaulay said, in 1852, "We now know, by the clearest of all +proof, that universal suffrage, even united with secret voting, is no +security, against the establishment of arbitrary power." To quote James +Russell Lowell, writing a little later: "We have begun obscurely to +recognize that . . . popular government is not in itself a panacea, is no +better than any other form except as the virtue and wisdom of the people +make it so." + +As Americans, we cannot but believe that our political creed goes down in +its foundations to the solid rock of truth. One of the best reasons for +our belief lies in the fact that, since 1776, government after government +has imitated our example. We have, by our very existence and rise to +power, made any decided retrogression from these doctrines impossible. So +many people have tried to rule themselves, and are still trying, that one +begins to believe that the time is not far distant when the United +States, once the most radical, will become the most conservative of +nations. + +Thus the duty rests to-day, more heavily than ever, upon each American +citizen to make good to the world those principles upon which his +government was built. To use a figure suggested by the calamity which has +lately befallen one of the most beloved of our cities, there is a theory +that earthquakes are caused by a necessary movement on the part of the +globe to regain its axis. Whether or not the theory be true, it has its +political application. In America to-day we are trying--whatever the +cost--to regain the true axis established for us by the founders of our +Republic. + +HARLAKENDEN HOUSE, May 7, 1906. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Coniston, Book IV., by Winston Churchill + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CONISTON, BOOK IV. *** + +***** This file should be named 3765.txt or 3765.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/6/3765/ + +Produced by Pat Castevans and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Hart +and may be reprinted only when these Etexts are free of all fees.] +[Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be used in any sales +of Project Gutenberg Etexts or other materials be they hardware or +software or any other related product without express permission.] + +*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.07/27/01*END* + + + + + +This etext was produced by Pat Castevans <Patcat@ctnet.net> +and David Widger <widger@cecomet.net> + + + + +Note: This author is a cousin of Sir Winston Churchill the Prime Minister + + + + +CONISTON + +BOOK IV + + +CHAPTER XI + + +The next morning Cynthia's heart was heavy as she greeted her new friends +at Miss Sadler's school. Life had made a woman of her long ago, while +these girls had yet been in short dresses, and now an experience had come +to her which few, if any, of these could ever know. It was of no use for +her to deny to herself that she loved Bob Worthington--loved him with the +full intensity of the strong nature that was hers. To how many of these +girls would come such a love? and how many would be called upon to make +such a renunciation as hers had been? No wonder she felt out of place +among them, and once more the longing to fly away to Coniston almost +overcame her. Jethro would forgive her, she knew, and stretch out his +arms to receive her, and understand that some trouble had driven her to +him. + +She was aroused by some one calling her name--some one whose voice +sounded strangely familiar. Cynthia was perhaps the only person in the +school that day who did not know that Miss Janet Duncan had entered it. +Miss Sadler certainly knew it, and asked Miss Duncan very particularly +about her father and mother and even her brother. Miss Sadler knew, even +before Janet's unexpected arrival, that Mr. and Mrs. Duncan had come to +Boston after Christmas, and had taken a large house in the Back Bay in +order to be near their son at Harvard. Mrs. Duncan was, in fact, a +Bostonian, and more at home there than at any other place. + +Miss Sadler observed with a great deal of astonishment the warm embrace +that Janet bestowed on Cynthia. The occurrence started in Miss Sadler a +train of thought, as a result of which she left the drawing-room where +these reunions were held, and went into her own private study to write a +note. This she addressed to Mrs. Alexander Duncan, at a certain number +on Beacon Street, and sent it out to be posted immediately. In the +meantime, Janet Duncan had seated herself on the sofa beside Cynthia, not +having for an instant ceased to talk to her. Of what use to write a +romance, when they unfolded themselves so beautifully in real life! Here +was the country girl she had seen in Washington already in a fine way to +become the princess, and in four months! Janet would not have thought it +possible for any one to change so much in such a time. Cynthia listened, +and wondered what language Miss Duncan would use if she knew how great +and how complete that change had been. Romances, Cynthia thought sadly, +were one thing to theorize about and quite another thing to endure--and +smiled at the thought. But Miss Duncan had no use for a heroine without +a heartache. + +It is not improbable that Miss Janet Duncan may appear with Miss Sally +Broke in another volume. The style of her conversation is known, and +there is no room to reproduce it here. She, too, had a heart, but she +was a young woman given to infatuations, as Cynthia rightly guessed. +Cynthia must spend many afternoons at her house--lunch with her, drive +with her. For one omission Cynthia was thankful: she did not mention Bob +Worthington's name. There was the romance under Miss Duncan's nose, and +she did not see it. It is frequently so with romancers. + +Cynthia's impassiveness, her complete poise, had fascinated Miss Duncan +with the others. Had there been nothing beneath that exterior, Janet +would never have guessed it, and she would have been quite as happy. +Cynthia saw very clearly that Mr. Worthington or no other man or woman +could force Bob to marry Janet. + +The next morning, in such intervals as her studies permitted, Janet +continued her attentions to Cynthia. That same morning she had brought a +note from her father to Miss Sadler, of the contents of which Janet knew +nothing. Miss Sadler retired into her study to read it, and two +newspaper clippings fell out of it under the paper-cutter. This was the +note:-- + + "My DEAR MISS SADLER: + + Mrs. Duncan has referred your note to me, and I enclose two + clippings which speak for themselves. Miss Wetherell, I believe, + stands in the relation of ward to the person to whom they refer, and + her father was a sort of political assistant to this person. + Although, as you say, we are from that part of the country" (Miss + Sadler bad spoken of the Duncans as the people of importance there), + "it was by the merest accident that Miss Wetherell's connection with + this Jethro Bass was brought to my notice. + + Sincerely yours, + + "ALEXANDER DUNCAN." + +It is pleasant to know that there were people in the world who could snub +Miss Sadler; and there could be no doubt, from the manner in which she +laid the letter down and took up the clippings, that Miss Sadler felt +snubbed: equally, there could be no doubt that the revenge would fall on +other shoulders than Mr. Duncan's. And when Miss Sadler proceeded to +read the clippings, her hair would have stood on end with horror had it +not been so efficiently plastered down. Miss Sadler seized her pen, and +began a letter to Mrs. Merrill. Miss Sadler's knowledge of the +proprieties--together with other qualifications--had made her school what +it was. No Cynthia Wetherells had ever before entered its sacred +portals, or should again. + +The first of these clippings was the article containing the arraignment +of Jethro Bass which Mr. Merrill had shown to his wife, and which had +been the excuse for Miss Penniman's call. The second was one which Mr. +Duncan had clipped from the Newcastle Guardian of the day before, and +gave, from Mr. Worthington's side, a very graphic account of the conflict +which was to tear the state asunder. The railroads were tired of paying +toll to the chief of a band of thieves and cutthroats, to a man who had +long throttled the state which had nourished him, to--in short,--to +Jethro Bass. Miss Sadler was not much interested in the figures and +metaphors of political compositions. Right had found a champion--the +article continued--in Mr. Isaac D. Worthington of Brampton, president of +the Truro Road and owner of large holdings elsewhere. Mr. Worthington, +backed by other respectable property interests, would fight this monster +of iniquity to the death, and release the state from his thraldom. +Jethro Bass, the article alleged, was already about his abominable work-- +had long been so--as in mockery of that very vigilance which is said to +be the price of liberty. His agents were busy in every town of the +state, seeing to it that the slaves of Jethro Bass should be sent to the +next legislature. + +And what was this system which he had built up among these rural +communities? It might aptly be called the System of Mortgages. The +mortgage--dread name for a dreadful thing--was the chief weapon of the +monster. Even as Jethro Bass held the mortgages of Coniston and Tarleton +and round about, so his lieutenants held mortgages in every town and +hamlet of the state, What was a poor farmer to do--? His choice was not +between right and wrong, but between a roof over the heads of his wife +and children and no roof. He must vote for the candidate of Jethro Bass +end corruption or become a homeless wanderer. How the gentleman and his +other respectable backers were to fight the system the article did not +say. Were they to buy up all the mortgages? As a matter of fact, they +intended to buy up enough of these to count, but to mention this would be +to betray the methods of Mr. Worthington's reform. The first bitter +frontier fighting between the advance cohorts of the new giant and the +old--the struggle for the caucuses and the polls--had begun. Miss Sadler +cared but little and understood less of all this matter. She lingered +over the sentences which described Jethro Bass as a monster of iniquity, +as a pariah with whom decent men would have no intercourse, and in the +heat of her passion that one who had touched him had gained admittance to +the most exclusive school for young ladies in the country she wrote a +letter. + +Miss Sadler wrote the letter, and three hours later tore it up and wrote +another and more diplomatic one. Mrs. Merrill, though not by any means +of the same importance as Mrs. Duncan, was not a person to be wantonly +offended, and might--knowing nothing about the monster--in the goodness +of her heart have taken the girl into her house. Had it been otherwise, +surely Mrs. Merrill would not have had the effrontery! She would give +Mrs. Merrill a chance. The bell of release from studies was ringing as +she finished this second letter, and Miss Sadler in her haste forgot to +enclose the clippings. She ran out in time to intercept Susan Merrill at +the door, and to press into her hands the clippings and the note, with a +request to take both to her mother. + +Although the Duncans dined in the evening, the Merrills had dinner at +half-past one in the afternoon, when the girls returned from school. +Mr. Merrill usually came home, but he had gone off somewhere for this +particular day, and Mrs. Merrill had a sewing circle. The girls sat +down to dinner alone. When they got up from the table, Susan suddenly +remembered the note which she had left in her coat pocket. She drew out +the clippings with it. + +"I wonder what Miss Sadler is sending mamma clippings for," she said. +"Why, Cynthia, they're about your uncle. Look!" + +And she handed over the article headed "Jethro Bass." Jane, who had +quicker intuitions than her sister, would have snatched it from Cynthia's +hand, and it was a long time before Susan forgave herself for her folly. +Thus Miss Sadler had her revenge. + +It is often mercifully ordained that the mightiest blows of misfortune +are tempered for us. During the winter evenings in Coniston, Cynthia had +read little newspaper attacks on Jethro, and scorned them as the cowardly +devices of enemies. They had been, indeed, but guarded and covert +allusions--grimaces from a safe distance. Cynthia's first sensation as +she read was anger--anger so intense as to send all the blood in her body +rushing to her head. But what was this? "Right had found a champion at +last" in--in Isaac D. Worthington! That was the first blow, and none but +Cynthia knew the weight of it. It sank but slowly into her +consciousness, and slowly the blood left her face, slowly but surely: +left it at length as white as the lace curtain of the window which she +clutched in her distress. Words which somebody had spoken were ringing +in her ears. Whatever happens! "Whatever happens I will never desert +you, never deny you, as long as I live." This, then, was what he had +meant by newspapers, and why he had come to her! + +The sisters, watching her, cried out in dismay. There was no need to +tell them that they were looking on at a tragedy, and all the love and +sympathy in their hearts went out to her. + +"Cynthia! Cynthia! What is it?" cried Susan, who, thinking she would +faint, seized her in her arms. "What have I done?" + +Cynthia did not faint, being made of sterner substance. Gently, but with +that inexorable instinct of her kind which compels them to look for +reliance within themselves even in the direst of extremities, Cynthia +released herself from Susan's embrace and put a hand to her forehead. + +"Will you leave me here a little while--alone?" she said. + +It was Jane now who drew Susan out and shut the door of the parlor after +them. In utter misery they waited on the stairs while Cynthia fought out +her battle for herself. + +When they were gone she sank down into the big chair under the reading +lamp--the very chair in which he had sat only two nights before. She saw +now with a terrible clearness the thing which for so long had been but a +vague premonition of disaster, and for a while she forgot the clippings. +And when after a space the touch of them in her hand brought them back to +her remembrance, she lacked the courage to read them through. But not +for long. Suddenly her fear of them gave place to a consuming hatred of +the man who had inspired these articles: of Isaac D. Worthington, for she +knew that he must have inspired them. And then she began again to read +them. + +Truth, though it come perverted from the mouth of an enemy, has in itself +a note to which the soul responds, let the mind deny as vehemently as it +will. Cynthia read, and as she read her body was shaken with sobs, +though the tears came not. Could it be true? Could the least particle +of the least of these fearful insinuations be true? Oh, the treason of +those whispers in a voice that was surely not her own, and yet which she +could not hush! Was it possible that such things could be printed about +one whom she had admired and respected above all men--nay,, whom she had +so passionately adored from childhood? A monster of iniquity, a pariah! +The cruel, bitter calumny of those names! Cynthia thought of his +goodness and loving kindness and his charity to her and to many others. +His charity! The dreaded voice repeated that word, and sent a thought +that struck terror into her heart: Whence had come the substance of that +charity? Then came another word--mortgage. There it was on the paper, +and at sight of it there leaped out of her memory a golden-green poplar +shimmering against the sky and the distant blue billows of mountains in +the west. She heard the high-pitched voice of a woman speaking the word, +and even then it had had a hateful sound, and she heard herself asking, +"Uncle Jethro, what is a mortgage?" He had struck his horse with the +whip. + +Loyal though the girl was, the whispers would not hush, nor the doubts +cease to assail her. What if ever so small a portion of this were true? +Could the whole of this hideous structure, tier resting upon tier, have +been reared without something of a foundation? Fiercely though she told +herself she would believe none of it, fiercely though she hated Mr. +Worthington, fervently though she repeated aloud that her love for Jethro +and her faith in him had not changed, the doubts remained. Yet they +remained unacknowledged. + +An hour passed. It was a thing beyond belief that one hour could have +held such a store of agony. An hour passed, and Cynthia came dry-eyed +from the parlor. Susan and Jane, waiting to give her comfort when she +was recovered a little from this unknown but overwhelming affliction, +were fain to stand mute when they saw her to pay a silent deference to +one whom sorrow had lifted far above them and transfigured. That was the +look on Cynthia's face. She went up the stairs, and they stood in the +hall not knowing what to do, whispering in awe-struck voices. They were +still there when Cynthia came down again, dressed for the street. Jane +seized her by the hand. + +"Where are you going, Cynthia?" she asked. + +"I shall be back by five," said Cynthia. + +She went up the hill, and across to old Louisburg Square, and up the hill +again. The weather had cleared, the violet-paned windows caught the +slanting sunlight and flung it back across the piles of snow. It was a +day for wedding-bells. At last Cynthia came to a queerly fashioned +little green door that seemed all askew with the slanting street, and +rang the bell, and in another moment was standing on the threshold of +Miss Lucretia Penniman's little sitting room. To Miss Lucretia, at her +writing table, one glance was sufficient. She rose quickly to meet the +girl, kissed her unresponsive cheek, and led her to a chair. Miss +Lucretia was never one to beat about the bush, even in the gravest +crisis. + +"You have read the articles," she said. + +Read them! During her walk hither Cynthia had been incapable of thought, +but the epithets and arraignments and accusations, the sentences and +paragraphs, wars printed now, upon her brain, never, she believed, to be +effaced. Every step of the way she had been unconsciously repeating +them. + +"Have you read them?" asked Cynthia. + +"Yes, my dear." + +"Has everybody read them?" Did the whole world, then, know of her shame? + +"I am glad you came to me, my dear," said Miss Lucretia, taking her hand. +"Have you talked of this to any one else?" + +"No," said Cynthia, simply. + +Miss Lucretia was puzzled. She had not looked for apathy, but she did +not know all of Cynthia's troubles. She wondered whether she had +misjudged the girl, and was misled by her attitude. + +"Cynthia," she said, with a briskness meant to hide emotion for Miss +Lucretia had emotions, "I am a lonely old woman, getting too old, indeed, +to finish the task of my life. I went to see Mrs. Merrill the other day +to ask her if she would let you come and live with me. Will you?" + +Cynthia shook her head. + +"No, Miss Lucretia, I cannot," she answered. + +"I won't press it on you now," said Miss Lucretia. + +"I cannot, Miss Lucretia. I'm going to Coniston." + +"Going to Coniston!" exclaimed Miss Lucretia. + +The name of that place--magic name, once so replete with visions of +happiness and content--seemed to recall Cynthia's spirit from its flight. +Yes, the spirit was there, for it flashed in her eyes as she turned and +looked into Miss Lucretia's face. + +"Are these the articles you read?" she asked; taking the clippings from +her muff. + +Miss Lucretia put on her spectacles. + +"I have seen both of them," she said. + +"And do you believe what they say about--about Jethro Bass?" + +Poor Miss Lucretia! For once in her life she was at a loss. She, too, +paid a deference to that face, young as it was. She had robbed herself +of sleep trying to make up her mind what she would say upon such an +occasion if it came. A wonderful virgin faith had to be shattered, and +was she to be the executioner? She loved the girl with that strange, +intense affection which sometimes comes to the elderly and the lonely, +and she had prayed that this cup might pass from her. Was it possible +that it was her own voice using very much the same words for which she +had rebuked Mrs. Merrill? + +"Cynthia," she said, "those articles were written by politicians, in a +political controversy. No such articles can ever be taken literally." + +"Miss Lucretia, do you believe what it says about Jethro Bass?" repeated +Cynthia. + +How was she to avoid those eyes? They pierced into, her soul, even as +her own had pierced into Mrs. Merrill's. Oh, Miss Lucretia, who pride +yourself on your plain speaking, that you should be caught quibbling! +Miss Lucretia blushed for the first time in many, years, and into her +face came the light of battle. + +"I am a coward, my dear. I deserve your rebuke. To the best of my +knowledge and belief, and so far as I can judge from the inquiries I have +undertaken, Jethro Bass has made his living and gained and held his power +by the methods described in those articles." + +Miss Lucretia took off her spectacles and wiped them. She had committed +a fine act of courage. + +Cynthia stood up. + +"Thank you," she said, "that is what I wanted to know." + +"But--"cried Miss Lucretia, in amazement and apprehension, "but what are +you going to do?" + +"I am going to Coniston," said Cynthia, "to ask him if those things are +true." + +"To ask him!" + +"Yes. If he tells me they are true, then I shall believe them." + +"If he tells you?" Miss Lucretia gasped. Here was a courage of which she +had not reckoned. "Do you think he will tell you?" + +"He will tell me, and I shall believe him, Miss Lucretia." + +"You are a remarkable girl, Cynthia," said Miss Lucretia, involuntarily. +Then she paused for a moment. "Suppose he tells you they are true? You +surely can't live with him again, Cynthia." + +"Do you suppose I am going to desert him, Miss Lucretia?" she asked. +"He loves me, and--and I love him." This was the first time her voice had +faltered. "He kept my father from want and poverty, and he has brought +me up as a daughter. If his life has been as you say, I shall make my +own living!" + +"How?" demanded Miss Lucretia, the practical part of her coming +uppermost. + +"I shall teach school. I believe I can get a position, in a place where +I can see him often. I can break his heart, Miss Lucretia, I--I can +bring sadness to myself, but I will not desert him." + +Miss Lucretia stared at her for a moment, not knowing what to say or do. +She perceived that the girl had a spirit as strong as her own: that her +plans were formed, her mind made up, and that no arguments could change +her. + +"Why did you come to me?" she asked irrelevantly. + +"Because I thought that you would have read the articles, and I knew if +you had, you would have taken the trouble to inform yourself of the +world's opinion." + +Again Miss Lucretia stared at her. + +"I will go to Coniston with you," she said, "at least as far as +Brampton." + +Cynthia's face softened a little at the words. + +"I would rather go alone, Miss Lucretia," she answered gently, but with +the same firmness. "I--I am very grateful to you for your kindness to me +in Boston. I shall not forget it--or you. Good-by, Miss Lucretia." + +But Miss Lucretia, sobbing openly, gathered the girl in her arms and +pressed her. Age was coming on her indeed, that she should show such +weakness. For a long time she could not trust herself to speak, and then +her words were broken. Cynthia must come to her at the first sign of +doubt or trouble: this, Miss Lucretia's house, was to be a refuge in any +storm that life might send--and Miss Lucretia's heart. Cynthia promised, +and when she went out at last through the little door her own tears were +falling, for she loved Miss Lucretia. + +Cynthia was going to Coniston. That journey was as fixed, as inevitable, +as things mortal can be. She would go to Coniston unless she perished on +the way. No loving entreaties, no fears of Mrs. Merrill or her +daughters, were of any avail. Mrs. Merrill too, was awed by the vastness +of the girl's sorrow, and wondered if her own nature were small by +comparison. She had wept, to be sure, at her husband's confession, and +lain awake over it in the night watches, and thought of the early days of +their marriage. + +And then, Mrs. Merrill told herself, Cynthia would have to talk with Mr. +Merrill. How was he to come unscathed out of that? There was pain and +bitterness in that thought, and almost resentment against Cynthia, +quivering though she was with sympathy for the girl. For Mrs. Merrill, +though the canker remained, had already pardoned her husband and had +asked the forgiveness of God for that pardon. On other occasions, in +other crisis, she had waited and watched for him in the parlor window, +and to-night she was at the door before his key was in the lock, while he +was still stamping the snow from his boots. She drew him into the room +and told him what had happened. + +"Oh, Stephen," she cried, "what are you going to say to her?" + +What, indeed? His wife had sorrowed, but she had known the obstacles and +perils by which he had been beset. But what was he to say to Cynthia? +Her very name had grown upon him, middle-aged man of affairs though he +was, until the thought of it summoned up in his mind a figure of purity, +and of the strength which was from purity. He would not have believed it +possible that the country girl whom they had taken into their house three +months before should have wrought such an influence over them all. + +Even in the first hour of her sorrow which she had spent that afternoon +in the parlor, Cynthia had thought of Mr. Merrill. He could tell her +whether those accusations were true or false, for he was a friend of +Jethro's. Her natural impulse--the primeval one of a creature which is +hurt--had been to hide herself; to fly to her own room, and perhaps by +nightfall the courage would come to her to ask him the terrible +questions. He was a friend of Jethro's. An illuminating flash revealed +to her the meaning of that friendship--if the accusations were true. It +was then she had thought of Miss Lucretia Penniman, and somehow she had +found the courage to face the sunlight and go to her. She would spare +Mr. Merrill. + +But had she spared him? Sadly the family sat down to supper without her, +and after supper Mr. Merrill sent a message to his club that he could not +attend a committee meeting there that evening. He sat with his wife in +the little writing room, he pretending to read and she pretending to sew, +until the silence grew too oppressive, and they spoke of the matter that +was in their hearts. It was one of the bitterest evenings in Mr. +Merrill's life, and there is no need to linger on it. They talked +earnestly of Cynthia, and of her future. But they both knew why she did +not come down to them. + +"So she is really going to Coniston," said Mr. Merrill. + +"Yes," answered Mrs. Merrill, "and I think she is doing right, Stephen." + +Mr. Merrill groaned. His wife rose and put her hand on his shoulder. + +"Come, Stephen," she said gently, "you will see her in the morning. + +"I will go to Coniston with her," he said. + +"No," replied Mrs. Merrily "she wants to go alone. And I believe it is +best that she should." + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +Great afflictions generally bring in their train a host of smaller +sorrows, each with its own little pang. One of these sorrows had been +the parting with the Merrill family. Under any circumstance it was not +easy for Cynthia to express her feelings, and now she had found it very +difficult to speak of the gratitude and affection which she felt. But +they understood--dear, good people that they were: no eloquence was +needed with them. The ordeal of breakfast over, and the tearful "God +bless you, Miss Cynthia," of Ellen the parlor-maid, the whole family had +gone with her to the station. For Susan and Jane had spent their last +day at Miss Sadler's school. + +Mr. Merrill had sent for the conductor and bidden him take care of Miss +Wetherell, and recommend her in his name to a conductor on the Truro +Road. The man took off his cap to Mr. Merrill and called him by name and +promised. It was a dark day, and long after the train had pulled out +Cynthia remembered the tearful faces of the family standing on the damp +platform of the station. As they fled northward through the flat river- +meadows, the conductor would have liked to talk to her of Mr. Merrill; +there were few employees on any railroad who did not know the genial and +kindly president of the Grand Gulf and sympathize with his troubles. But +there was a look on the girl's face that forbade intrusion. Passengers +stared at her covertly, as though fascinated by that look, and some tried +to fathom it. But her eyes were firmly fixed upon a point far beyond +their vision. The car stopped many times, and flew on again, but nothing +seemed to break her absorption. + +At last she was aroused by the touch of the conductor on her sleeve. The +people were beginning to file out of the car, and the train was under the +shadow of the snow-covered sheds in the station of the state capital. +Cynthia recognized the place, though it was cold and bare and very +different in appearance from what it had been on the summer's evening +when she had come into it with her father. That, in effect, had been her +first glimpse of the world, and well she recalled the thrill it had given +her. The joy of such things was gone now, the rapture of holidays and new +sights. These were over, so she told herself. Sorrow had quenched the +thrills forever. + +The kind conductor led her to the eating room, and when she would not eat +his concern drew greater than ever. He took a strange interest in this +young lady who had such a face and such eyes. He pointed her out to his +friend the Truro conductor, and gave him some sandwiches and fruit which +he himself had bought, with instructions to press them on her during the +afternoon. + +Cynthia could not eat. She hated this place, with its memories. Hated +it, too, as a mart where men were bought and sold, for the wording of +those articles ran in her head as though some priest of evil were +chanting them in her ears. She did not remember then the sweeter aspect +of the old town, its pretty homes set among their shaded gardens--homes +full of good and kindly people. State House affairs were far removed +from most of these, and the sickness and corruption of the body politic. +And this political corruption, had she known it, was no worse than that +of the other states in the wide Union: not so bad, indeed, as many, +though this was small comfort. No comfort at all to Cynthia, who did not +think of it. + +After a while she rose and followed the new conductor to the Truro train, +glad to leave the capital behind her. She was going to the hills--to the +mountains. They, in truth, could not change, though the seasons passed +over them, hot and cold, wet and dry. They were immutable in their +goodness. Presently she saw them, the lower ones: the waters of the +little stream beside her broke the black bonds of ice and raced over the +rapids; the engine was puffing and groaning on the grade. Then the sun +crept out, slowly, from the indefinable margin of vapor that hung massed +over the low country. + +Yes, she had come to the hills. Up and up climbed the train, through the +little white villages in the valley nooks, banked with whiter snow; +through the narrow gorges,--sometimes hanging over them,--under steep +granite walls seared with ice-filled cracks, their brows hung with +icicles. + +Truro Pass is not so high as the Brenner, but it has a grand, wild look +in winter, remote as it is from the haunts of men. A fitting refuge, it +might be, for a great spirit heavy with the sins of the world below. +Such a place might have been chosen, in the olden time, for a monastery-- +a gray fastness built against the black forest over the crag looking down +upon the green clumps of spruces against the snow. Some vague longing +for such a refuge was in Cynthia's heart as she gazed upon that silent +place, and then the waters had already begun to run westward--the waters +of Tumble Down brook, which flowed into Coniston Water above Brampton. +The sun still had more than two hours to go on its journey to the hill +crests when the train pulled into Brampton station. There were but a few +people on the platform, but the first face she saw as she stepped from +the car was Lem Hallowell's. It was a very red face, as we know, and its +owner was standing in front of the Coniston stage, on runners now. He +stared at her for an instant, and no wonder, and then he ran forward with +outstretched hands. + +"Cynthy--Cynthy Wetherell!" he cried. "Great Godfrey!" + +He got so far, he seized her hands, and then he stopped, not knowing why. +There were many more ejaculations and welcomes and what not on the end of +his tongue. It was not that she had become a lady--a lady of a type he +had never before seen. He meant to say that, too, in his own way, but he +couldn't. And that transformation would have bothered Lem but little. +What was the change, then? Why was he in awe of her--he, Lem Hallowell, +who had never been in awe of any one? He shook his head, as though +openly confessing his inability to answer that question. He wanted to +ask others, but they would not come. + +"Lem," she said, "I am so glad you are here." + +"Climb right in, Cynthy. I'll get the trunk." There it lay, the little +rawhide one before him on the boards, and he picked it up in his bare +hands as though it had been a paper parcel. It was a peculiarity of the +stage driver that he never wore gloves, even in winter, so remarkable was +the circulation of his blood. After the trunk he deposited, apparently +with equal ease, various barrels and boxes, and then he jumped in beside +Cynthia, and they drove down familiar Brampton Street, as wide as a wide +river; past the meeting-house with the terraced steeple; past the +postoffice,--Cousin Ephraim's postoffice,--where Lem gave her a +questioning look--but she shook her head, and he did not wait for the +distribution of the last mail that day; past the great mansion of Isaac +D. Worthington, where the iron mastiffs on the lawn were up to their +muzzles in snow. After that they took the turn to the right, which was +the road to Coniston. + +Well-remembered road, and in winter or summer, Cynthia knew every tree +and farmhouse beside it. Now it consisted of two deep grooves in the +deep snow; that was all, save for a curving turnout here and there for +team to pass team. Well-remembered scene! How often had Cynthia looked +upon it in happier days! Such a crust was on the snow as would bear a +heavy man; and the pasture hillocks were like glazed cakes in the window +of a baker's shop. Never had the western sky looked so yellow through +the black columns of the pine trunks. A lonely, beautiful road it was +that evening. + +For a long time the silence of the great hills was broken only by the +sweet jingle of the bells on the shaft. Many a day, winter and summer, +Lem had gone that road alone, whistling, and never before heeding that +silence. Now it seemed to symbolize a great sorrow: to be in subtle +harmony with that of the girl at his side. What that sorrow was he could +not guess. The good man yearned to comfort her, and yet he felt his +comfort too humble to be noticed by such sorrow. He longed to speak, but +for the first time in his life feared the sound of his own voice. +Cynthia had not spoken since she left the station, had not looked at him, +had not asked for the friends and neighbors whom she had loved so well-- +had not asked for Jethro! Was there any sorrow on earth to be felt like +that? And was there one to feel it? + +At length, when they reached the great forest, Lem Hallowell knew that he +must speak or cry aloud. But what would be the sound of his voice--after +such an age of disuse? Could he speak at all? Broken and hoarse and +hideous though the sound might be, he must speak. And hoarse and broken +it was. It was not his own, but still it was a voice. + +"Folks--folks'll be surprised to see you, Cynthy." + +No, he had not spoken at all. Yes, he had, for she answered him. + +"I suppose they will, Lem." + +"Mighty glad to have you back, Cynthy. We think a sight of you. We +missed you." + +"Thank you, Lem." + +"Jethro hain't lookin' for you by any chance, be he? + +"No," she said. But the question startled her. Suppose he had not been +at home! She had never once thought of that. Could she have borne to +wait for him? + +After that Lem gave it up. He had satisfied himself as to his vocal +powers, but he had not the courage even to whistle. The journey to +Coniston was faster in the winter, and at the next turn of the road the +little village came into view. There it was, among the snows. The pain +in Cynthia's heart, so long benumbed, quickened when she saw it. How +write of the sharpness of that pain to those who have never known it? +The sight of every gable brought its agony,--the store with the checker- +paned windows, the harness shop, the meeting-house, the white parsonage +on its little hill. Rias Richardson ran out of the store in his carpet +slippers, bareheaded in the cold, and gave one shout. Lem heeded him +not; did not stop there as usual, but drove straight to the tannery house +and pulled up under the butternut tree. Milly Skinner ran out on the +porch, and gave one long look, and cried:-- + +"Good Lord, it's Cynthy!" + +"Where's Jethro?" demanded Lem. + +Milly did not answer at once. She was staring at Cynthia. + +"He's in the tannery shed," she said, "choppin' wood." But still she +kept her eyes on Cynthia's face. "I'll fetch him." + +"No," said Cynthia, "I'll go to him there." + +She took the path, leaving Millicent with her mouth open, too amazed to +speak again, and yet not knowing why. + +In the tannery shed! Would Jethro remember what happened there almost +six and thirty years before? Would he remember how that other Cynthia +had come to him there, and what her appeal had been? + +Cynthia came to the doors. One of these was open now--both had been +closed that other evening against the storm of sleet--and she caught a +glimpse of him standing on the floor of chips and bark--tan-bark no more. +Cynthia caught a glimpse of him, and love suddenly welled up into her +heart as waters into a spring after a drought. He had not seen her, not +heard the sound of the sleigh-bells. He was standing with his foot upon +the sawbuck and the saw across his knee, he was staring at the woodpile, +and there was stamped upon his face a look which no man or woman had ever +seen there, a look of utter loneliness and desolation, a look as of a +soul condemned to wander forever through the infinite, cold spaces +between the worlds--alone. + +Cynthia stopped at sight of it. What had been her misery and affliction +compared to this? Her limbs refused her, though she knew not whether she +would have fled or rushed into his arms. How long she stood thus, and he +stood, may not be said, but at length he put down his foot and took the +saw from his knee, his eyes fell upon her, and his lips spoke her name. + +"Cynthy!" + +Speechless, she ran to him and flung her arms about his neck, and he +dropped the saw and held her tightly--even as he had held that other +Cynthia in that place in the year gone by. And yet not so. Now he clung +to her with a desperation that was terrible, as though to let go of her +would be to fall into nameless voids beyond human companionship and love. +But at last he did release her, and stood looking down into her face, as +if seeking to read a sentence there. + +And how was she to pronounce that sentence! Though her faith might be +taken away, her love remained, and grew all the greater because he needed +it. Yet she knew that no subterfuge or pretence would avail her to hide +why she had come. She could not hide it. It must be spoken out now, +though death was preferable. + +And he was waiting. Did he guess? She could not tell. He had spoken no +word but her name. He had expressed no surprise at her appearance, asked +no reasons for it. Superlatives of suffering or joy or courage are hard +to convey--words fall so far short of the feeling. And Cynthia's pain +was so far beyond tears. + +"Uncle Jethro," she said, "yesterday something--something happened. I +could not stay in Boston any longer." + +He nodded. + +"I had to come to you. I could not wait." + +He nodded again. + +"I--I read something." To take a white-hot iron and sear herself would +have been easier than this. + +"Yes," he said. + +She felt that the look was coming again--the look which she had surprised +in his face. His hands dropped lifelessly from her shoulders, and he +turned and went to the door, where he stood with his back to her, +silhouetted against the eastern sky all pink from the reflection of +sunset. He would not help her. Perhaps he could not. The things were +true. There had been a grain of hope within her, ready to sprout. + +"I read two articles from the Newcastle Guardian about you--about your +life." + +"Yes," he said. But he did not turn. + +"How you had--how you had earned your living. How you had gained your +power," she went on, her pain lending to her voice an exquisite note of +many modulations. + +"Yes--Cynthy," he said, and still stared at the eastern sky. + +She took two steps toward him, her arms outstretched, her fingers opening +and closing. And then she stopped. + +"I would believe no one," she said, "I will believe no one--until--unless +you tell me. Uncle Jethro," she cried in agony, "Uncle Jethro, tell me +that those things are not true!" + +She waited a space, but he did not stir. There was no sound, save the +song of Coniston Water under the shattered ice. + +"Won't you speak to me?" she whispered. "Won't you tell me that they are +not true?" + +His shoulders shook convulsively. O for the right to turn to her and +tell her that they were lies! He would have bartered his soul for it. +What was all the power in the world compared to this priceless treasure +he had lost? Once before he had cast it away, though without meaning to. +Then he did not know the eternal value of love--of such love as those two +women had given him. Now he knew that it was beyond value, the one +precious gift of life, and the knowledge had come too late. Could he +have saved his life if he had listened to that other Cynthia? + +"Won't you tell me that they are not true?" + +Even then he did not turn to her, but he answered. Curious to relate, +though his heart was breaking, his voice was steady-- steady as it always +had been. + +"I--I've seen it comin', Cynthy," he said. "I never knowed anything I +was afraid of before--but I was afraid of this. I knowed what your +notions of right and wrong was--your--your mother had them. They're the +principles of good people. I--I knowed the day would come when you'd +ask, but I wanted to be happy as long as I could. I hain't been happy, +Cynthy. But you was right when you said I'd tell you the truth. S-so I +will. I guess them things which you speak ,about are true--the way I got +where I am, and the way I made my livin'. They--they hain't put just as +they'd ought to be, perhaps, but that's the way I done it in the main." + +It was thus that Jethro Bass met the supreme crisis of his life. And who +shall say he did not meet it squarely and honestly? Few men of finer +fibre and more delicate morals would have acquitted themselves as well. +That was a Judgment Day for Jethro; and though he knew it not, he spoke +through Cynthia to his Maker, confessing his faults freely and humbly, +and dwelling on the justness of his punishment; putting not forward any +good he may have done; nor thinking of it; nor seeking excuse because of +the light that was in him. Had he been at death's door in the face of +nameless tortures, no man could have dragged such a confession from him. +But a great love had been given him, and to that love he must speak the +truth, even at the cost of losing it. + +But he was not to lose it. Even as he was speaking a thrill of +admiration ran through Cynthia, piercing her sorrow. The superb strength +of the man was there in that simple confession, and it is in the nature +of woman to admire strength. He had fought his fight, and gained, and +paid the price without a murmur, seeking no palliation. Cynthia had not +come to that trial--so bitter for her--as a judge. If the reader has +seen youth and innocence sitting in the seat of justice, with age and +experience at the bar, he has mistaken Cynthia. She came to Coniston +inexorable, it is true, because hers was a nature impelled to do right +though it perish. She did not presume to say what Jethro's lights and +opportunities might have been. Her own she knew, and by them she must +act accordingly. + +When he had finished speaking, she stole silently to his side and slipped +her hand in his. He trembled violently at her touch. + +"Uncle Jethro," she said in a low tone, "I love you." + +At the words he trembled more violently still. + +"No, no, Cynthy," he answered thickly, "don't say that--I--I don't expect +it, Cynthy, I know you can't--'twouldn't be right, Cynthy. I hain't fit +for it." + +"Uncle Jethro," she said, "I love you better than I have ever loved you +in my life." + +Oh, how welcome were the tears! and how human! He turned, pitifully +incredulous, wondering that she should seek by deceit to soften the blow; +he saw them running down her cheeks, and he believed. Yes, he believed, +though it seemed a thing beyond belief. Unworthy, unfit though he were, +she loved him. And his own love as he gazed at her, sevenfold increased +as it had been by the knowledge of losing her, changed in texture from +homage to worship--nay, to adoration. His punishment would still be +heavy; but whence had come such a wondrous gift to mitigate it? + +"Oh, don't you believe me?" she cried, "can't you see that it is true?" + +And yet he could only hold her there at arm's length with that new and +strange reverence in his face. He was not worthy to touch her, but still +she loved him. + +The flush had faded from the eastern sky, and the faintest border of +yellow light betrayed the ragged outlines of the mountain as they walked +together to the tannery house. + +Millicent, in the kitchen, was making great preparations--for Millicent. +Miss Skinner was a person who had hitherto laid it down as a principle of +life to pay deference or do honor to no human made of mere dust, like +herself. Millicent's exception; if Cynthia had thought about it, was a +tribute of no mean order. Cynthia, alas, did not think about it: she did +not know that, in her absence, the fire had not been lighted in the +evening, Jethro supping on crackers and milk and Milly partaking of the +evening meal at home. Moreover, Miss Skinner had an engagement with a +young man. Cynthia saw the fire, and threw off her sealskin coat which +Mr. and Mrs. Merrill had given her for Christmas, and took down the +saucepan from the familiar nail on which it hung. It was a miraculous +fact, for which she did not attempt to account, that she was almost +happy: happy, indeed, in comparison to that which had been her state +since the afternoon before. Millicent snatched the saucepan angrily from +her hand. + +"What be you doin', Cynthy?" she demanded. + +Such was Miss Skinner's little way of showing deference. Though +deference is not usually vehement, Miss Skinner's was very real, +nevertheless. + +"Why, Milly, what's the matter?" exclaimed Cynthia, in astonishment. + +"You hain't a-goin' to do any cookin', that's all," said Milly, very red +in the face. + +"But I've always helped," said Cynthia. "Why not?" + +Why not? A tribute was one thing, but to have to put the reasons for +that tribute, into words was quite another. + +"Why not?" cried Milly, "because you hain't a-goin' to, that's all." + +Strange deference! But Cynthia turned and looked at the girl with a +little, sad smile of comprehension and affection. She took her by the +shoulders and kissed her. + +Whereupon a most amazing thing happened--Millicent burst into tears-- +wild, ungovernable tears they were. + +"Because you hain't a-goin' to," she repeated, her words interspersed +with violent sobs. "You go 'way, Cynthy," she cried, "git out!" + +"Milly," said Cynthia, shaking her head, "you ought to be ashamed of +yourself." But they were not words of reproof. She took a little lamp +from the shelf, and went up the narrow stairs to her own room in the +gable, where Lemuel had deposited the rawhide trunk. + +Though she had had nothing all day, she felt no hunger, but for Milly's +sake she tried hard to eat the supper when it came. Before it had fairly +begun Moses Hatch had arrived, with Amandy and Eben; and Rias Richardson +came in, and other neighbors, to say a word of welcome to hear (if the +truth be not too disparaging to their characters) the reasons for her +sudden appearance, and such news of her Boston experiences as she might +choose to give them. They had learned from Lem Hallowell that Cynthia +had returned a lady: a real lady, not a sham one who relied on airs and +graces, such as had come to Coniston the summer before to look for a +summer place on the painter's recommendation. Lem was not a gossip, in +the disagreeable sense of the term, and he had not said a word to his +neighbors of his feelings on that terrible drive from Brampton. Knowing +that some blow had fallen upon Cynthia, he would have spared her these +visits if he could. But Lem was wise and kind, so he merely said that +she had returned a lady. + +And they had found a lady. As they stood or sat around the kitchen (Eben +and Rias stood), Cynthia talked to them--about Coniston: rather, be it +said, that they talked about Coniston in answer to her questions. The +sledding had been good; Moses had hauled so many thousand feet of lumber +to Brampton; Sam Price's woman (she of Harwich) had had a spell of +sciatica; Chester Perkins's bull had tossed his brother-in-law, come from +Iowy on a visit, and broke his leg; yes, Amandy guessed her dyspepsy was +somewhat improved since she had tried Graham's Golden Remedy--it made her +feel real lighthearted; Eben (blushing furiously) was to have the Brook +Farm in the spring; there was a case of spotted fever in Tarleton. + +Yes, Lem Hallowell had been right, Cynthia was a lady, but not a mite +stuck up. What was the difference in her? Not her clothes, which she +wore as if she had been used to them all her life. Poor Cynthia, the +clothes were simple enough. Not her manner, which was as kind and sweet +as ever. What was it that compelled their talk about themselves, that +made them refrain from asking those questions about Boston, and why she +had come back? Some such query was running in their minds as they +talked, while Jethro, having finished his milk and crackers, sat silent +at the end of the table with his eyes upon her. He rose when Mr. +Satterlee came in. + +Mr. Satterlee looked at her, and then he went quietly across the room and +kissed her. But then Mr. Satterlee was the minister. Cynthia thought +his hair a little thinner and the lines in his face a little deeper. And +Mr. Satterlee thought perhaps he was the only one of the visitors who +guessed why she had come back. He laid his thin hand on her head, as +though in benediction, and sat down beside her. + +"And how is the learning, Cynthia?" he asked. + +Now, indeed, they were going to hear something at last. An intuition +impelled Cynthia to take advantage of that opportunity. + +"The learning has become so great, Mr. Satterlee," she said, "that I have +come back to try to make some use of it. It shall be wasted no more." + +She did not dare to look at Jethro, but she was aware that he had sat +down abruptly. What sacrifice will not a good woman make to ease the +burden of those whom she loves! And Jethro's burden would be heavy +enough. Such a woman will speak almost gayly, though her heart be heavy. +But Cynthia's was lighter now than it had been. + +"I was always sure you would not waste your learning, Cynthia," said Mr. +Satterlee, gravely; "that you would make the most of the advantages God +has given you." + +"I am going to try, Mr. Satterlee. I cannot be content in idleness. I +was wasting time in Boston, and I--I was not happy so far away from you +all--from Uncle Jethro. Mr. Satterlee, I am going to teach school. I +have always wanted to, and now I have made up my mind to do it." + +This was Jethro's punishment. But had she not lightened it for him a +little by choosing this way of telling him that she could not eat his +bread or partake of his bounty? Though by reason of that bounty she was +what she was, she could not live and thrive on it longer, coming as it +did from such a source. Mr. Satterlee might perhaps surmise the truth, +but the town and village would think her ambition a very natural one, +certainly no better time could have been chosen to announce it. + +"To teach school." She was sure now that Mr. Satterlee knew and +approved, and perceived something, at least, of her little ruse. He was +a man whose talents fitted him for a larger flock than he had at +Coniston, but he possessed neither the graces demanded of city ministers +nor the power of pushing himself. Never was a more retiring man. The +years she had spent in his study had not gone for nothing, for he who has +cherished the bud can predict what the flower will be, and Mr. Satterlee +knew her spiritually better than any one else in Coniston. He had heard +of her return, and had walked over to the tannery house, full of fears, +the remembrance of those expressions of simple faith in Jethro coming +back to his mind. Had the revelation which he had so long expected come +at last? and how had she taken it? would it embitter her? The good man +believed that it would not, and now he saw that it had not, and rejoiced +accordingly. + +"To teach school," he said. "I expected that you would wish to, Cynthia. +It is a desire that most of us have, who like books and what is in them. +I should have taught school if I had not become a minister. It is a high +calling, and an absorbing one, to develop the minds of the young." Mr. +Satterlee was often a little discursive, though there was reason for it +on this occasion, and Moses Hatch half closed his eyes and bowed his head +a little out of sheer habit at the sound of the minister's voice. But he +raised it suddenly at the next words. "I was in Brampton yesterday, and +saw Mr. Graves, who is on the prudential committee of that district. You +may not have heard that Miss Goddard has left. They have not yet +succeeded in filling her place, and I think it more than likely that you +can get it." + +Cynthia glanced at Jethro, but the habit of years was so strong in him +that he gave no sign. + +"Do you think so, Mr. Satterlee?" she said gratefully. "I had heard of +the place, and hoped for it, because it is near enough for me to spend +the Saturdays and Sundays with Uncle Jethro. And I meant to go to +Brampton tomorrow to see about it." + +"I will go with you," said the minister; "I have business in Brampton to- +morrow." He did not mention that this was the business. + +When at length they had all departed, Jethro rose and went about the +house making fast the doors, as was his custom, while Cynthia sat staring +through the bars at the dying embers in the stove. He knew now, and it +was inevitable that he should know, what she had made up her mind to do. +It had been decreed that she, who owed him everything, should be made to +pass this most dreadful of censures upon his whole life. Oh, the cruelty +of that decree! + +How, she mused, would it affect him? Had the blow been so great that he +would relinquish those practices which had become a lifelong habit with +him? Would he (she caught her breath at this thought) would he abandon +that struggle with Isaac D. Worthington in which he was striving to +maintain the mastery of the state by those very practices? Cynthia hated +Mr. Worthington. The term is not too strong, and it expresses her +feeling. But she would have got down on her knees on the board floor of +the kitchen that very night and implored Jethro to desist from that +contest, if she could. She remembered how, in her innocence, she had +believed that the people had given Jethro his power,--in those days when +she was so proud of that very power,--now she knew that he had wrested it +from them. What more supreme sacrifice could he make than to relinquish +it! Ah, there was a still greater sacrifice that Jethro was to make, had +she known it. + +He came and stood over her by the stove, and she looked up into his face +with these yearnings in her eyes. Yes, she would have thrown herself on +her knees, if she could. But she could not. Perhaps he would abandon +that struggle. Perhaps--perhaps his heart was broken. And could a man +with a broken heart still fight on? She took his hand and pressed it +against her face, and he felt that it was wet with her tears. + +"B-better go to bed now, Cynthy," he said; "m-must be worn out--m-must be +worn out." + +He stooped and kissed her on the forehead. It was thus that Jethro Bass +accepted his sentence. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +At sunrise, in that Coniston hill-country, it is the western hills which +are red; and a distant hillock on the meadow farm which was soon to be +Eden's looked like the daintiest conical cake with pink icing as Cynthia +surveyed the familiar view the next morning. There was the mountain, the +pastures on the lower slopes all red, too, and higher up the dark masses +of bristling spruce and pine and hemlock mottled with white where the +snow-covered rocks showed through. + +Sunrise in January is not very early, and sunrise at any season is not +early for Coniston. Cynthia sat at her window, and wondered whether that +beautiful landscape would any longer be hers. Her life had grown up on +it; but now her life had changed. Would the beauty be taken from it, +too? Almost hungrily she gazed at the scene. She might look upon it +again--many times, perhaps--but a conviction was strong in her that its +daily possession would now be only a memory. + +Mr. Satterlee was as good as his word, for he was seated in the stage +when it drew up at the tannery house, ready to go to Brampton. And as +they drove away Cynthia took one last look at Jethro standing on the +porch. It seemed to her that it had been given her to feel all things, +and to know all things: to know, especially, this strange man, Jethro +Bass, as none other knew him, and to love him as none other loved him. +The last severe wrench was come, and she had left him standing there +alone in the cold, divining what was in his heart as though it were in +her own. How worthless was this mighty power which he had gained, how +hateful, when he could not bestow the smallest fragment of it upon one +whom he loved? Someone has described hell as disqualification in the +face of opportunity. Such was Jethro's torment that morning as he saw +her drive away, the minister in the place where he should have been, at +her side, and he, Jethro Bass, as helpless as though he had indeed been +in the pit among the flames. Had the prudential committee at Brampton +promised the appointment ten times over, he might still have obtained it +for her by a word. And he must not speak even that word. Who shall say +that a large part of the punishment of Jethro Bass did not come to him in +the life upon this earth. + +Some such thoughts were running in Cynthia's head as they jingled away to +Brampton that dazzling morning. Perhaps the stage driver, too, who knew +something of men and things and who meddled not at all, had made a guess +at the situation. He thought that Cynthia's spirits seemed lightened a +little, and he meant to lighten them more; so he joked as much as his +respect for his passengers would permit, and told the news of Brampton. +Not the least of the news concerned the first citizen of that place. +There was a certain railroad in the West which had got itself much into +Congress, and much into the newspapers, and Isaac D. Worthington had got +himself into that railroad: was gone West, it was said on that business, +and might not be back for many weeks. And Lem Hallowell remembered when +Mr. Worthington was a slim-cheated young man wandering up and down +Coniston Water in search of health. Good Mr. Satterlee, thinking this a +safe subject, allowed himself to be led into a discussion of the first +citizen's career, which indeed had something fascinating in it. + +Thus they jingled into Brampton Street and stopped before the cottage of +Judge Graves--a courtesy title. The judge himself came to the door and +bestowed a pronounced bow on the minister, for Mr. Satterlee was honored +in Brampton. Just think of what Ezra Graves might have looked like, and +you have him. He greeted Cynthia, too, with a warm welcome--for Ezra +Graves,--and ushered them into a best parlor which was reserved for +ministers and funerals and great occasions in general, and actually +raised the blinds. Then Mr. Satterlee, with much hemming and hawing, +stated the business which had brought them, while Cynthia looked out of +the window. + +Mr. Graves sat and twirled his lean thumbs. He went so far as to say +that he admired a young woman who scorned to live in idleness, who wished +to impart the learning with which she had been endowed. Fifteen +applicants were under consideration for the position, and the prudential +committee had so far been unable to declare that any of them were +completely qualified. (It was well named, that prudential committee?) +Mr. Graves, furthermore, volunteered that he had expressed a wish to +Colonel Prescott (Oh, Ephraim, you too have got a title with your new +honors!), to Colonel Prescott and others, that Miss Wetherell might take +the place. The middle term opened on the morrow, and Miss Bruce, of the +Worthington Free Library, had been induced to teach until a successor +could be appointed, although it was most inconvenient for Miss Bruce. + +Could Miss Wetherell start in at once, provided the committee agreed? +Cynthia replied that she would like nothing better. There would be an +examination before Mr. Errol, the Brampton Superintendent of Schools. In +short, owing to the pressing nature of the occasion, the judge would +take the liberty of calling the committee together immediately. Would +Mr. Satterlee and Miss Wetherell make themselves at home in the parlor? + +It very frequently happens that one member of a committee is the brain, +and the other members form the body of it. It was so in this case. Ezra +Graves typified all of prudence there was about it, which, it must be +admitted, was a great deal. He it was who had weighed in the balance the +fifteen applicants and found them wanting. Another member of the +committee was that comfortable Mr. Dodd, with the tuft of yellow beard, +the hardware dealer whom we have seen at the baseball game. Mr. Dodd was +not a person who had opinions unless they were presented to him from +certain sources, and then he had been known to cling to them tenaciously. +It is sufficient to add that, when Cynthia Wetherell's name was mentioned +to him, he remembered the girl to whom Bob Worthington had paid such +marked attentions on the grand stand. He knew literally nothing else +about Cynthia. Judge Graves, apparently, knew all about her; this was +sufficient, at that time, for Mr. Dodd; he was sick and tired of the +whole affair, and if, by the grace of heaven, an applicant had been sent +who conformed with Judge Graves's multitude of requirements, he was +devoutly thankful. The other member, Mr. Hill, was a feed and lumber +dealer, and not a very good one, for he was always in difficulties; +certain scholarly attainments were attributed to him, and therefore he +had been put on the committee. They met in Mr. Dodd's little office back +of the store, and in five minutes Cynthia was a schoolmistress, subject +to examination by Mr. Errol. + +Just a word about Mr. Errol. He was a retired lawyer, with some means, +who took an interest in town affairs to occupy his time. He had a very +delicate wife, whom he had been obliged to send South at the beginning of +the winter. There she had for a while improved, but had been taken ill +again, and two days before Cynthia's appointment he had been summoned to +her bedside by a telegram. Cynthia could go into the school, and her +examination would take place when Mr. Errol returned. + +All this was explained by the judge when, half an hour after he had left +them, he returned to the best parlor. Miss Wetherell would, then, be +prepared to take the school the following morning. Whereupon the judge +shook hands with her, and did not deny that he had been instrumental in +the matter. + +"And, Mr. Satterlee, I am so grateful to you," said Cynthia, when they +were in the street once more. + +"My dear Cynthia, I did nothing," answered the minister, quite bewildered +by the quick turn affairs had taken; "it is your own good reputation that +got you the place." + +Nevertheless Mr. Satterlee had done his share in the matter. He had +known Mr. Graves for a long time, and better than any other person in +Brampton. Mr. Graves remembered Cynthia Ware, and indeed had spoken to +Cynthia that day about her mother. Mr. Graves had also read poor William +Wetherell's contributions to the Newcastle Guardian, and he had not read +that paper since they had ceased. From time to time Mr. Satterlee had +mentioned his pupil to the judge, whose mind had immediately flown to her +when the vacancy occurred. So it all came about. + +"And now," said Mr. Satterlee, "what will you do, Cynthia? We've got the +good part of a day to arrange where you will live, before the stage +returns." + +"I won't go back to-night, I think," said Cynthia, turning her head away; +"if you would be good enough to tell Uncle Jethro to send my trunk and +some other things." + +"Perhaps that is just as well," assented the minister, understanding +perfectly. "I have thought that Miss Bruce might be glad to board you," +he continued, after a pause. "Let us go to see her." + +"Mr. Satterlee," said Cynthia, "would you mind if we went first to see +Cousin Ephraim?" + +"Why, of course, we must see Ephraim," said Mr. Satterlee, briskly. So +they walked on past the mansion of the first citizen, and the new block +of stores which the first citizen had built, to the old brick building +which held the Brampton post-office, and right through the door of the +partition into the sanctum of the postmaster himself, which some one had +nicknamed the Brampton Club. On this occasion the postmaster was seated +in his shirt sleeves by the stove, alone, his listeners being conspicuously +absent. Cynthia, who had caught a glimpse of him through the little mail- +window, thought he looked very happy and comfortable. + +"Great Tecumseh!" he cried,--an exclamation he reserved for extraordinary +occasions, if it hain't Cynthy!" + +He started to hobble toward her, but Cynthia ran to him. + +"Why," said he, looking at her closely after the greeting was over, "you +be changed, Cynthy. Mercy, I don't know as I'd have dared done that if +I'd seed you first. What have you b'en doin' to yourself? You must have +seed a whole lot down there in Boston. And you're a full-blown lady, +too." + +"Oh, no, I'm not, Cousin Eph," she answered, trying to smile. + +"Yes, you be," he insisted, still scrutinizing her, vainly trying to +account for the change. Tact, as we know, was not Ephraim's strong +point. Now he shook his head. "You always was beyond me. Got a sort of +air about you, and it grows on you, too. Wouldn't be surprised," he +declared, speaking now to the minister, "wouldn't be a mite surprised to +see her in the White House, some day." + +"Now, Cousin Eph," said Cynthia, coloring a little, "you mustn't talk +nonsense. What have you done with your coat? You have no business to go +without it with your rheumatism." + +"It hain't b'en so bad since Uncle Sam took me over again, Cynthy," he +answered, "with nothin' to do but sort letters in a nice hot room." The +room was hot, indeed. "But where did you come from?" + +"I grew tired of being taught, Cousin Eph. I--I've always wanted to +teach. Mr. Satterlee has been with me to see Mr. Graves, and they've +given me Miss Goddard's place. I'm coming to Brampton to live, to-day." + +"Great Tecumseh!" exclaimed Ephraim again, overpowered by the yews. "I +want to know! What does Jethro say to that?" + +"He--he is willing," she replied in a low voice. + +"Well," said Ephraim, "I always thought you'd come to it. It's in the +blood, I guess--teachin'. Your mother had it too. I'm kind of sorry for +Jethro, though, so I be. But I'm glad for myself, Cynthy. So you're +comin' to Brampton to live with me! + +"I was going to ask Miss Bruce to take me in," said Cynthia. + +"No you hain't, anything of the kind," said Ephraim, indignantly. "I've +got a little house up the street, and a room all ready for you." + +"Will you let me share expenses, Cousin Eph?" + +"I'll let you do anything you want," said he, "so's you come. Don't you +think she'd ought to come and take care of an old man, Mr. Satterlee?" + +Mr. Satterlee turned. He had been contemplating, during this +conversation, a life-size print of General Grant under two crossed flags, +that was hung conspicuously on the wall. + +"I do not think you could do better, Cynthia," he answered, smiling. The +minister liked Ephraim, and he liked a little joke, occasionally. He +felt that one would not be, particularly out of place just now; so he +repeated, "I do not think you could do better than to accept the offer of +Colonel Prescott." + +Ephraim grew very red, as was his wont when twitted about his new title. +He took things literally. + +"I hain't a colonel, no more than you be, Mr. Satterlee. But the boys +down here will have it so." + +Three days later, by the early train which leaves the state capital at an +unheard-of hour in the morning, a young man arrived in Brampton. His jaw +seemed squarer than ever to the citizens who met the train out of +curiosity, and to Mr. Dodd, who was expecting a pump; and there was a set +look on his face like that of a man who is going into a race or a fight. +Mr. Dodd, though astonished, hastened toward him. + +"Well, this is unexpected, Bob," said he. "How be you? Harvard College +failed up?" + +For Mr. Dodd never let slip a chance to assure a member of the +Worthington family of his continued friendship. + +"How are you, Mr. Dodd?" answered Bob, nodding at him carelessly, and +passing on. Mr. Dodd did not dare to follow. What was young Worthington +doing in Brampton, and his father in the West on that railroad business? +Filled with curiosity, Mr. Dodd forgot his pump, but Bob was already +striding into Brampton Street, carrying his bag. If he had stopped for a +few moments with the hardware dealer, or chatted with any of the dozen +people who bowed and stared at him, he might have saved himself a good +deal of trouble. He turned in at the Worthington mansion, and rang the +bell, which was answered by Sarah, the housemaid. + +"Mr. Bob!" she exclaimed. + +"Where's Mrs. Holden?" he asked. + +Mrs. Holden was the elderly housekeeper. She had gone, unfortunately, to +visit a bereaved relative; unfortunately for Bob, because she, too, might +have told him something. + +"Get me some breakfast, Sarah. Anything," he commanded, "and tell Silas +to hitch up the black trotters to my cutter." + +Sarah, though in consternation, did as she was bid. The breakfast was +forthcoming, and in half an hour Silas had the black trotters at the +door. Bob got in without a word, seized the reins, the cutter flew down +Brampton Street (observed by many of the residents thereof) and turned +into the Coniston road. Silas said nothing. Silas, as a matter of fact, +never did say anything. He had been the Worthington coachman for five +and twenty years, and he was known in Brampton as Silas the Silent. +Young Mr. Worthington had no desire to talk that morning. + +The black trotters covered the ten miles in much quicker time than Lem +Hallowell could do it in his stage, but the distance seemed endless to +Bob. It was not much more than half an hour after he had left Brampton +Street, however, that he shot past the store, and by the time Rias +Richardson in his carpet slippers reached the platform the cutter was in +front of the tannery house, and the trotters, with their sides smoking, +were pawing up the snow under the butternut tree. + +Bob leaped out, hurried up the path, and knocked at the door. It was +opened by Jethro Bass himself + +"How do you do, Mr. Bass," said the young man, gravely, and he held out +his hand. Jethro gave him such a scrutinizing look as he had given many +a man whose business he cared to guess, but Bob looked fearlessly into +his eyes. Jethro took his hand. + +"C-come in," he said. + +Bob went into that little room where Jethro and Cynthia had spent so many +nights together, and his glance flew straight to the picture on the +wall,--the portrait of Cynthia Wetherell in crimson and seed pearls, so +strangely set amidst such surroundings. His glance went to the portrait, +and his feet followed, as to a lodestone. He stood in front of it for +many minutes, in silence, and Jethro watched him. At last he turned. + +"Where is she?" he asked. + +It was a queer question, and Jethro's answer was quite as lacking in +convention. + +"G-gone to Brampton--gone to Brampton." + +"Gone to Brampton! Do you mean to say--? What is she doing there?" Bob +demanded. + +"Teachin' school," said Jethro; "g-got Miss Goddard's place." + +Bob did not reply for a moment. The little schoolhouse was the only +building in Brampton he had glanced at as he came through. Mrs. Merrill +had told him that she might take that place, but he had little imagined +she was already there on her platform facing the rows of shining little +faces at the desks. He had deemed it more than possible that he might +see Jethro at Coniston, but he had not taken into account that which he +might say to him. Bob had, indeed, thought of nothing but Cynthia, and +of the blow that had fallen upon her. He had tried to realize the, +multiple phases of the situation which confronted him. Here was the man +who, by the conduct of his life, had caused the blow; he, too, was her +benefactor; and again, this same man was engaged in the bitterest of +conflicts with his father, Isaac D. Worthington, and it was this conflict +which had precipitated that blow. Bob could not have guessed, by looking +at Jethro Bass, how great was the sorrow which had fallen upon him. But +Bob knew that Jethro hated his father, must hate him now, because of +Cynthia, with a hatred given to few men to feel. He thought that Jethro +would crush Mr. Worthington and ruin him if he could; and Bob believed he +could. + +What was he to say? He did not fear Jethro, for Bob Worthington had +courage enough; but these things were running in his mind, and he felt +the power of the man before him, as all men did. Bob went to the window +and came back again. He knew that he must speak. + +"Mr. Bass," he said at last, "did Cynthia ever mention me to you?" + +"No," said Jethro. + +"Mr. Bass, I love her. I have told her so, and I have asked her to be my +wife." + +There was no need, indeed, to have told Jethro this. The shock of that +revelation had come to him when he had seen the trotters, had been +confirmed when the young man had stood before the portrait. Jethro's +face might have twitched when Bob stood there with his back to him. + +Jethro could not speak. Once more there had come to him a moment when he +would not trust his voice to ask a question. He dreaded the answer, +though none might have surmised this. He knew Cynthia. He knew that, +when she had given her heart, it was for all time. He dreaded the +answer; because it might mean that her sorrow was doubled. + +"I believe," Bob continued painfully, seeing that Jethro would say +nothing, "I believe that Cynthia loves me. I should not dare to say it +or to hope it, without reason. She has not said so, but--" the words +were very hard for him, yet he stuck manfully to the truth; "but she told +me to write to my father and let him know what I had done, and not to +come back to her until I had his answer. This," he added, wondering that +a man could listen to such a thing without a sign, "this was before-- +before she had any idea of coming home." + +Yes, Cynthia, did love him. There was no doubt about it in Jethro's +mind. She would not have bade Bob write to his father if she had not +loved him. Still Jethro did not speak, but by some intangible force +compelled Bob to go on. + +"I shall write to my father as soon as he comes back from the West, but I +wish to say to you, Mr. Bass, that whatever his answer contains, I mean +to marry Cynthia. Nothing can shake me from that resolution. I tell you +this because my father is fighting you, and you know what he will say." +(Jethro knew Dudley Worthington well enough to appreciate that this would +make no particular difference in his opposition to the marriage except to +make that opposition more vehement.) "And because you do not know me," +continued Bob. "When I say a thing, I mean it. Even if my father cuts +me off and casts me out, I will marry Cynthia. Good-by, Mr. Bass." + +Jethro took the young man's hand again. Bob imagined that he even +pressed it--a little--something he had never done before. + +"Good-by, Bob." + +Bob got as far as the door. + +"Er--go back to Harvard, Bob?" + +"I intend to, Mr. Bass." + +"Er--Bob?" + +"Yes?" + +"D-don't quarrel with your father--don't quarrel with your father." + +"I shan't be the one to quarrel, Mr. Bass." + +"Bob--hain't you pretty young--pretty young?" + +"Yes," said Bob, rather unexpectedly, "I am." Then he added, "I know my +own mind." + +"P-pretty young. Don't want to get married yet awhile--do you?" + +"Yes, I do," said Bob, "but I suppose I shan't be able to." + +"Er--wait awhile, Bob. Go back to Harvard. W-wouldn't write that letter +if I was you." + +"But I will. I'll not have him think I'm ashamed of what I've done. I'm +proud of it, Mr. Bass." + +In the eyes of Coniston, which had been waiting for his reappearance, Bob +Worthington jumped into the sleigh and drove off. He left behind him +Jethro Bass, who sat in his chair the rest of the morning with his head +bent in revery so deep that Millicent had to call him twice to his simple +dinner. Bob left behind him, too, a score of rumors, sprung full grown +into life with his visit. Men and women an incredible distance away +heard them in an incredible time: those in the village found an immediate +pretext for leaving their legitimate occupation and going to the store, +and a gathering was in session there when young Mr. Worthington drove +past it on his way back. Bob thought little about the rumors, and not +thinking of them it did not occur to him that they might affect Cynthia. +The only person then in Coniston whom he thought about was Jethro Bass. +Bob decided that his liking for Jethro had not diminished, but rather +increased; he admired Jethro for the advice he had given, although he did +not mean to take it. And for the first time he pitied him. + +Bob did not know that rumor, too, was spreading in Brampton. He had his +dinner in the big walnut dining room all alone, and after it he smoked +his father's cigars and paced up and down the big hall, watching the +clock. For he could not go to her in the school hours. At length he put +on his hat and hurried out, crossing the park-like enclosure in the +middle of the street; bowed at by Mr. Dodd, who always seemed to be on +hand, and others, and nodding absently in return. Concealment was not in +Bob Worthington's nature. He reached the post-office, where the +partition door was open, and he walked right into a comparatively full +meeting of the Brampton Club. Ephraim sat in their midst, and for once +he was not telling war stories. He was silent. And the others fell +suddenly silent, too, at Bob's entrance. + +"How do you do, Mr. Prescott?" he said, as Ephraim struggled to his feet. +"How is the rheumatism?" + +"How be you, Mr. Worthington?" said Ephraim; "this is a kind of a +surprise, hain't it?" Ephraim was getting used to surprises. "Well, it +is good-natured of you to come in and shake hands with an old soldier." + +"Don't mention it, Mr. Prescott," answered honest Bob, a little abashed, +"I should have done so anyway, but the fact is, I wanted to speak to you +a moment in private." + +"Certain," said Ephraim, glancing helplessly around him, "jest come out +front." That space, where the public were supposed to be, was the only +private place in the Brampton post-office. But the members of the +Brampton Club could take a hint, and with one consent began to make +excuses. Bob knew them all from boyhood and spoke to them all. Some of +them ventured to ask him if Harvard had bust up. + +"Where does Cynthia-live?" he demanded, coming straight to the point. + +Ephraim stared at him for a moment in a bewildered fashion, and then a +light began to dawn on him. + +"Lives with me," he answered. He was quite as ashamed, for Bob's sake, +as if he himself had asked the question, and he went on talking to cover +that embarrassment. "It's made some difference, too, sence she come. +House looks like a different place. Afore she, come I cooked with a kit, +same as I used to in the harness shop. I 1'arned it in the army. +Cynthy's got a stove." + +It was not the way Ephraim would have gone about a love affair, had he +had one. Sam Price's were the approved methods in that section of the +country, though Sam had overdone them somewhat. It was an unheard-of +thing to ask a man right out like that where a girl lived. + +"Much obliged," said Bob, and was gone. Ephraim raised his hands in +despair, and hobbled to the little window to get a last look at him. +Where were the proprieties in these days? The other aspect of the +affair, what Mr. Worthington would think of it when he returned, did not +occur to the innocent mind of the old soldier until people began to talk +about it that afternoon. Then it worried him into another attack of +rheumatism. + +Half of Brampton must have seen Bob Worthington march up to the little +yellow house which Ephraim had rented from John Billings. It had four +rooms around the big chimney in the middle, and that was all. Simple as +it was, an architect would have said that its proportions were nearly +perfect. John Billings had it from his Grandfather Post, who built it, +and though Brampton would have laughed at the statement, Isaac D. +Worthington's mansion was not to be compared with it for beauty. The old +cherry furniture was still in it, and the old wall papers and the +panelling in the little room to the right which Cynthia had made into a +sitting room. + +Half of Brampton, too, must have seen Cynthia open the door and Bob walk +into the entry. Then the door was shut. But it had been held open for +an appreciable time, however,--while you could count twenty,--because +Cynthia had not the power to close it. For a while she could only look +into his eyes, and he into hers. She had not seen him coming, she had +but answered the knock. Then, slowly, the color came into her cheeks, +and she knew that she was trembling from head to foot. + +"Cynthia," he said, "mayn't I come in?" + +She did not answer, for fear her voice would tremble, too. And she could +not send him away in the face of all Brampton. She opened the door a +little wider, a very little, and he went in. Then she closed it, and for +a moment they stood facing each other in the entry, which was lighted +only by the fan-light over the door, Cynthia with her back against the +wall. He spoke her name again, his voice thick with the passion which +had overtaken him like a flood at the sight of her--a passion to seize +her in his arms, and cherish and comfort and protect her forever and +ever. All this he felt and more as he looked into her face and saw the +traces of her great sorrow there. He had not thought that that face +could be more beautiful in its strength and purity, but it was even so. + +"Cynthia-my love!" he cried, and raised his arms. But a look as of a +great fear came into her eyes, which for one exquisite moment had yielded +to his own; and her breath came quickly, as though she were spent--as +indeed she was. So far spent that the wall at her back was grateful. + +"No!" she said; "no--you must not--you must not--you must not!" Again and +again she repeated the words, for she could summon no others. They were +a mandate--had he guessed it--to herself as to him. For the time her +brain refused its functions, and she could think of nothing but the fact +that he was there, beside her, ready to take her in his arms. How she +longed to fly into them, none but herself knew--to fly into them as into +a refuge secure against the evil powers of the world. It was not reason +that restrained her then, but something higher in her, that restrained +him likewise. Without moving from the wall she pushed open the door of +the sitting room. + +"Go in there," she said. + +He went in as she bade him and stood before the flickering logs in the +wide and shallow chimney-place--logs that seemed to burn on the very +hearth itself, and yet the smoke rose unerring into the flue. No stove +had ever desecrated that room. Bob looked into the flames and waited, +and Cynthia stood in the entry fighting this second great battle which +had come upon her while her forces were still spent with that other one. +Woman in her very nature is created to be sheltered and protected; and +the yearning in her, when her love is given, is intense as nature itself +to seek sanctuary in that love. So it was with Cynthia leaning against +the entry wall, her arms full length in front of her, and her hands +clasped as she prayed for strength to withstand the temptation. At last +she grew calmer, though her breath still came deeply, and she went into +the sitting room. + +Perhaps he knew, vaguely, why she had not followed him at once. He had +grown calmer himself, calmer with that desperation which comes to a man +of his type when his soul and body are burning with desire for a woman. +He knew that he would have to fight for her with herself. He knew now +that she was too strong in her position to be carried by storm, and the +interval had given him time to collect himself. He did not dare at first +to look up from the logs, for fear he should forget himself and be +defeated instantly. + +"I have been to Coniston, Cynthia," he said. + +"Yes." + +"I have been to Coniston this morning, and I have seen Mr. Bass, and I +have told him that I love you, and that I will never give you up. I told +you so in Boston, Cynthia," he said; "I knew that this this trouble would +come to you. I would have given my life to have saved you from it--from +the least part of it. I would have given my life to have been able to +say 'it shall not touch you.' I saw it flowing in like a great sea +between you and me, and yet I could not tell you of it. I could not +prepare you for it. I could only tell you that I would never give you +up, and I can only repeat that now." + +"You must, Bob," she answered, in a voice so low that it was almost a +whisper; "you must give me up." + +"I would not," he said, "I would not if the words were written on all the +rocks of Coniston Mountain. I love you." + +"Hush," she said gently. "I have to say some things to you. They will +be very hard to say, but you must listen to them." + +"I will listen," he said doggedly; "but they will not affect my +determination." + +"I am sure you do not wish to drive me away from Brampton," she +continued, in the same low voice, "when I have found a place to earn my +living near-near Uncle Jethro." + +These words told him all he had suspected--almost as much as though he +had been present at the scene in the tannery shed in Coniston. She knew +now the life of Jethro Bass, but he was still "Uncle Jethro" to her. It +was even as Bob had supposed,--that her affection once given could not be +taken away. + +"Cynthia," he said, "I would not by an act or a word annoy or trouble +you. If you bade me, I would go to the other side of the world to- +morrow. You must know that. But I should come back again. You must +know, that, too. I should come back again for you." + +"Bob," she said again, and her voice faltered a very little now, "you +must know that I can never be your wife." + +"I do not know it," he exclaimed, interrupting her vehemently, "I will +not know it." + +"Think," she said, "think! I must say what I, have to say, however it +hurts me. If it had not been for--for your father, those things never +would have been written. They were in his newspaper, and they express +his feelings toward--toward Uncle Jethro." + +Once the words were out, she marvelled that she had found the courage to +pronounce them. + +"Yes," he said, "yes, I know that, but listen--" + +"Wait," she went on, "wait until I have finished. I am not speaking of +the pain I had when I read these things, I--I am not speaking of the +truth that may be in them--I have learned from them what I should have +known before, and felt, indeed, that your father will never consent to-- +to a marriage between us." + +"And if he does not," cried Bob, "if he does not, do you think that I +will abide by what he says, when my life's happiness depends upon you, +and my life's welfare? I know that you are a good woman, and a true +woman, that you will be the best wife any man could have. Though he is +my father, he shall not deprive me of my soul, and he shall not take my +life away from me." + +As Cynthia listened she thought that never had words sounded sweeter than +these--no, and never would again. So she told herself as she let them +run into her heart to be stored among the treasures there. She believed +in his love--believed in it now with all her might. (Who, indeed, would +not?) She could not demean herself now by striving to belittle it or +doubt its continuance, as she had in Boston. He was young, yes; but he +would never be any older than this, could never love again like this. So +much was given her, ought she not to be content? Could she expect more? + +She understood Isaac Worthington, now, as well as his son understood him. +She knew that, if she were to yield to Bob Worthington, his father would +disown and disinherit him. She looked ahead into the years as a woman +will, and allowed herself for the briefest of moments to wonder whether +any happiness could thrive in spite of the violence of that schism--any +happiness for him. She would be depriving him of his birthright, and it +may be that those who are born without birthrights often value them the +most. Cynthia saw these things, and more, for those who sit at the feet +of sorrow soon learn the world's ways. She saw herself pointed out as +the woman whose designs had beggared and ruined him in his youth, and +(agonizing and revolting thought!) the name of one would be spoken from +whom she had learned such craft. Lest he see the scalding tears in her +eyes, she turned away and conquered them. What could she do? Where +should she hide her love that it might not be seen of men? And how, in +truth, could she tell him these things? + +"Cynthia," he went on, seeing that she did not answer, and taking heart, +"I will not say a word against my father. I know you would not respect +me if I did. We are different, he and I, and find happiness in different +ways." Bob wondered if his father had ever found it. "If I had never +met you and loved you, I should have refused to lead the life my father +wishes me to lead. It is not in me to do the things he will ask. I +shall have to carve out my own life, and I feel that I am as well able to +do it as he was. Percy Broke, a classmate of mine and my best friend, +has a position for me in a locomotive works in which his father is +largely interested. We are going in together, the day after we +graduate; it is all arranged, and his father has agreed. I shall work +very hard, and in a few years, Cynthia, we shall be together, never to +part again. Oh, Cynthia," he cried, carried away by the ecstasy of this +dream which he had, summoned up, "why do you resist me? I love you as no +man has ever loved," he exclaimed, with scornful egotism and contempt of +those who had made the world echo with that cry through the centuries, +"and you love me! Ah, do you think I do not see it--cannot feel it? You +love me--tell me so." + +He was coming toward her, and how was she to prevent his taking her by +storm? That was his way, and well she knew it. In her dreams she had +felt herself lifted and borne off, breathless in his arms, to Elysium. +Her breath was going now, her strength was going, and yet she made him +pause by the magic of a word. A concession was in that word, but one +could not struggle so piteously and concede nothing. + +"Bob," she said, "do you love me?" + +Love her! If there was a love that acknowledged no bounds, that was +confined by no superlatives, it was his. He began to speak, but she +interrupted him with a wild passion that was new to her. As he sat in +the train on his way back to Cambridge through the darkening afternoon, +the note of it rang in his ears and gave him hope--yes, and through many +months afterward. + +"If you love me I beg, I implore, I beseech you in the name of that love +--for your, sake and my sake, to leave me. Oh, can you not see why you +must go?" + +He stopped, even as he had before in the parlor in Mount Vernon Street. +He could but stop in the face of such an appeal--and yet the blood beat +in his head with a mad joy. + +"Tell me that you love me,--once," he cried,--"once, Cynthia." + +"Do-do not ask me," she faltered. "Go." + +Her words were a supplication, not a command. And in that they were a +supplication he had gained a victory. Yes, though she had striven with +all her might to deny, she had bade him hope. He left her without so +much as a touch of the hand, because she had wished it. And yet she +loved him! Incredible fact! Incredible conjury which made him doubt +that his feet touched the snow of Brampton Street, which blotted, as with +a golden glow, the faces and the houses of Brampton from his sight. He +saw no one, though many might have accosted him. That part of him which +was clay, which performed the menial tasks of his being, had kindly taken +upon itself to fetch his bag from the house to the station, and to board +the train. + +Ah, but Brampton had seen him! + + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +Great events, like young Mr. Worthington's visit to Brampton, are all +very well for a while, but they do not always develop with sufficient +rapidity to satisfy the audiences of the drama. Seven days were an +interlude quite long enough in which to discuss every phase and bearing +of this opening scene, and after that the play in all justice ought to +move on. But there it halted--for a while--and the curtain obstinately +refused to come up. If the inhabitants of Brampton had only known that +the drama, when it came, would be well worth waiting for, they might have +been less restless. + +It is unnecessary to enrich the pages of this folio with all the +footnotes and remarks of, the sages of Brampton. These can be condensed +into a paragraph of two--and we can ring up the curtain when we like on +the next scene, for which Brampton had to wait considerably over a month. +There is to be no villain in this drama with the face of an Abbe Maury +like the seven cardinal sins. Comfortable looking Mr. Dodd of the +prudential committee, with his chin-tuft of yellow beard, is cast for the +part of the villain, but will play it badly; he would have been better +suited to a comedy part. + +Young Mr. Worthington left Brampton on the five o'clock train, and at six +Mr. Dodd met his fellow-member of the committee, Judge Graves. + +"Called a meetin'?" asked Mr. Dodd, pulling the yellow tuft. + +"What for?" said the judge, sharply. + +"What be you a-goin' to do about it?" said Mr. Dodd. + +"Do about what?" demanded the judge, looking at the hardware dealer from +under his eyebrows. + +Mr. Dodd knew well enough that this was not ignorance on the part of Mr. +Graves, whose position in the matter dad been very well defined in the +two sentences he had spoken. Mr. Dodd perceived that the judge was +trying to get him to commit himself, and would then proceed to annihilate +him. He, Levi Dodd, had no intention of walking into such a trap. + +"Well," said he, with a final tug at the tuft, "if that's the way you +feel about it." + +"Feel about what?" said the judge, fiercely. + +"Callate you know best," said Mr. Dodd, and passed on up the street. But +he felt the judge's gimlet eyes boring holes in his back. The judge's +position was very fine, no doubt for the judge. All of which tends to +show that Levi Dodd had swept his mind, and that it was ready now for the +reception of an opinion. + +Six weeks or more, as has been said, passed before the curtain rose +again, but the snarling trumpets of the orchestra played a fitting +prelude. Cynthia's feelings and Cynthia's life need not be gone into +during this interval knowing her character, they may well be imagined. +They were trying enough, but Brampton had no means of guessing them. +During the weeks she came and went between the little house and the +little school, putting all the strength that was in her into her duties. +The Prudential Committee, which sometimes sat on the platform, could find +no fault with the performance of these duties, or with the capability of +the teacher, and it is not going too far to state that the children grew +to love her better than Miss Goddard had been loved. It may be declared +that children are the fittest citizens of a republic, because they are +apt to make up their own minds on any subject without regard to public +opinion. It was so with the scholars of Brampton village lower school: +they grew to love the new teacher, careless of what the attitude of their +elders might be, and some of them could have been seen almost any day +walking home with her down the street. + +As for the attitude of the elders--there was none. Before assuming one +they had thought it best, with characteristic caution, to await the next +act in the drama. There were ladies in Brampton whose hearts prompted +them, when they called on the new teacher, to speak a kindly word of +warning and advice; but somehow, when they were seated before her in the +little sitting room of the John Billings house, their courage failed +them. There was something about this daughter of the Coniston +storekeeper and ward of Jethro Bass that made them pause. So much for +the ladies of Brampton. What they said among themselves would fill a +chapter, and more. + +There was, at this time, a singular falling-off in the attendance of the +Brampton Club. Ephraim sat alone most of the day in his Windsor chair by +the stove, pretending to read newspapers. But he did not mention this +fact to Cynthia. He was more lonesome than ever on the Saturdays and +Sundays which she spent with Jethro Bass. + +Jethro Bass! It is he who might be made the theme of the music of the +snarling trumpets. What was he about during those six weeks? That is +what the state at large was beginning to wonder, and the state at large +was looking on at a drama, too. A rumor reached the capital and radiated +thence to every city and town and hamlet, and was followed by other +rumors like confirmations. Jethro Bass, for the first time in a long +life of activity, was inactive: inactive, too, at this most critical +period of his career, the climax of it, with a war to be waged which for +bitterness and ferocity would have no precedent; with the town meetings +at hand, where the frontier fighting was to be done, and no quarter +given. Lieutenants had gone to Coniston for further orders and +instructions, and had come back without either. Achilles was sulking in +the tannery house--some said a broken Achilles. Not a word could be got +out of him, or the sign of an intention. Jake Wheeler moped through the +days in Rias Richardson's store, too sore at heart to speak to any man, +and could have wept if tears had been a relief to him. No more blithe +errands over the mountain to Clovelly and elsewhere, though Jake knew the +issue now and itched for the battle, and the vassals of the hill-Rajah +under a jubilant Bijah Bixby were arming cap-a-pie. Lieutenant-General- +and-Senator Peleg Hartington of Brampton, in his office over the livery +stable, shook his head like a mournful stork when questioned by brother +officers from afar. Operations were at a standstill, and the sinews of +war relaxed. Rural givers of mortgages, who had not had the opportunity +of selling them or had feared to do so, began (mirabile dictu) to express +opinions. Most ominous sign of all--the proprietor of the Pelican Hotel +had confessed that the Throne Room had not been engaged for the coming +session. + +Was it possible that Jethro Bass lay crushed under the weight of the +accusations which had been printed, and were still being printed, in the +Newcastle Guardian? He did not answer them, or retaliate in other +newspapers, but Jethro Bass had never made use of newspapers in this way. +Still, nothing ever printed about him could be compared with those +articles. Had remorse suddenly overtaken him in his old age? Such were +the questions people we're asking all over the state--people, at least, +who were interested in politics, or in those operations which went by the +name of politics: yes, and many private citizens--who had participated in +politics only to the extent of voting for such candidates as Jethro in +his wisdom had seen fit to give them, read the articles and began to say +that boss domination was at an end. A new era was at hand, which they +fondly (and very properly) believed was to be a golden era. It was, +indeed, to be a golden era--until things got working; and then the gold +would cease. The Newcastle Guardian, with unconscious irony, proclaimed +the golden era; and declared that its columns, even in other days and +under other ownership, had upheld the wisdom of Jethro Bass. And he was +still a wise man, said the Guardian, for he had had sense enough to give +up the fight. + +Had he given up the fight? Cynthia fervently hoped and prayed that he +had, but she hoped and prayed in silence. Well she knew, if the event in +the tannery shed had not made him abandon his affairs, no appeal could do +so. Her happiest days in this period were the Saturdays and Sundays +spent with him in Coniston, and as the weeks went by she began to believe +that the change, miraculous as it seemed, had indeed taken place. He had +given up his power. It was a pleasure that made the weeks bearable for +her. What did it matter--whether he had made the sacrifice for the sake +of his love for her? He had made it. + +On these Saturdays and Sundays they went on long drives together over the +hills, while she talked to him of her life in Brampton or the books she +was reading, and of those she had chosen for him to read. Sometimes they +did not turn homeward until the delicate tracery of the branches on the +snow warned them of the rising moon. Jethro was often silent for hours +at a time, but it seemed to Cynthia that it was the silence of peace--of +a peace he had never known before. There came no newspapers to the +tannery house now: during the mid-week he read the books of which she had +spoken William Wetherell's books; or sat in thought, counting, perhaps; +the days until she should come again. And the boy of those days for him +was more pathetic than much that is known to the world as sorrow. + +And what did Coniston think? Coniston, indeed, knew not what to think, +when, little by little, the great men ceased to drive up to the door of +the tannery house, and presently came no more. Coniston sank then from +its proud position as the real capital of the state to a lonely hamlet +among the hills. Coniston, too, was watching the drama, and had had a +better view of the stage than Brampton, and saw some reason presently for +the change in Jethro Bass. Not that Mr. Satterlee told, but such +evidence was bound, in the end, to speak for itself. The Newcastle +Guardian had been read and debated at the store--debated with some heat +by Chester Perkins and other mortgagors; discussed, nevertheless, in a +political rather than a moral light. Then Cynthia had returned home; her +face had awed them by its sorrow, and she had begun to earn her own +living. Then the politicians had ceased to come. The credit belongs to +Rias Richardson for hawing been the first to piece these three facts +together, causing him to burn his hand so severely on the stove that he +had to carry it bandaged in soda for a week. Cynthia Wetherell had +reformed Jethro. + +Though the village loved and revered Cynthia, Coniston as a whole did not +rejoice in that reform. The town had fallen from its mighty estate, and +there were certain envious ones who whispered that it had remained for a +young girl who had learned city ways to twist Jethro around her finger; +that she had made him abandon his fight with Isaac D. Worthington because +Mr. Worthington had a son--but there is no use writing such scandal. +Stripped of his power--even though he stripped himself--Jethro began to +lose their respect, a trait tending to prove that the human race may have +had wolves for ancestors as well as apes. People had small opportunity, +however, of showing a lack of respect to his person, for in these days he +noticed no one and spoke to none. + +When the lion is crippled, the jackals begin to range. A jackal +reconnoitered the lair to see how badly the lion was crippled, and +conceived with astounding insolence the plan of capturing the lion's +quarry. This jackal, who was an old one, well knew how to round up a +quarry, and fled back over the hills to consult with a bigger jackal, his +master. As a result, two days before March town-meeting day, Mr. Bijah +Bixby paid a visit to the Harwich bank and went among certain Coniston +farmers looking over the sheep, his clothes bulging out in places when he +began, and seemingly normal enough when he had finished. History repeats +itself, even among lions and jackals. Thirty-six years before there had +been a town-meeting in Coniston and a surprise. Established Church, +decent and orderly selectmen and proceedings had been toppled over that +day, every outlying farm sending its representative through the sleet to +do it. And now retribution was at hand. This March-meeting day was +mild, the grass showing a green color on the south slopes where the snow +had melted, and the outlying farmers drove through mud-holes up to the +axles. Drove, albeit, in procession along the roads, grimly enough, and +the sheds Jock Hallowell had built around the meeting-house could not +hold the horses; they lined the fences and usurped the hitching posts of +the village street, and still they came. Their owners trooped with muddy +boots into the meeting-house, and when the moderator rapped for order the +Chairman of the Board of Selectmen, Jethro Bass, was not in his place; +never, indeed, would be there again. Six and thirty years he had been +supreme in that town--long enough for any man. The beams and king posts +would know him no more. Mr. Amos Cuthbert was elected Chairman, not +without a gallant and desperate but unsupported fight of a minority led +by Mr. Jake Wheeler, whose loyalty must be taken as a tribute to his +species. Farmer Cuthbert was elected, and his mortgage was not +foreclosed! Had it been, there was more money in the Harwich bank. + +There was no telegraph to Coniston in these days, and so Mr. Sam Price, +with his horse in a lather, might have been seen driving with unseemly +haste toward Brampton, where in due time he arrived. Half an hour later +there was excitement at Newcastle, sixty-five miles away, in the office +of the Guardian, and the next morning the excitement had spread over the +whole state. + +Jethro Bass was dethroned in Coniston--discredited in his own town! + +And where was Jethro? Did his heart ache, did he bow his head as he +thought of that supremacy, so hardly won, so superbly held, gone forever? +Many were the curious eyes on the tannery house that day, and for days +after, but its owner gave no signs of concern. He read and thought and +chopped wood in the tannery shed as usual. Never, I believe, did man, +shorn of power, accept his lot more quietly. His struggle was over, his +battle was fought, a greater peace than he had ever thought to hope for +was won. For the opinion and regard of the world he had never cared. A +greater reward awaited him, greater than any knew--the opinion and regard +and the praise of one whom he loved beyond all the world. On Friday she +came to him, on Friday at sunset, for the days were growing longer, and +that was the happiest sunset of his life. She said nothing as she raised +her face to his and kissed him and clung to him in the little parlor, but +he knew, and he had his reward. So much for earthly power Cynthia +brought the little rawhide trunk this time, and came to Coniston for the +March vacation--a happy two weeks that was soon gone. Happy by +comparison, that is, with what they both had suffered, and a haven of +rest after the struggle and despair of the wilderness. The bond between +them had, in truth, never been stronger, for both the young girl and the +old man had denied themselves the thing they held most dear. Jethro had +taken refuge and found comfort in his love. But Cynthia! Her greatest +love had now been bestowed elsewhere. + +If there were letters for the tannery house, Milly Skinner, who made it a +point to meet the stage, brought them. And there were letters during +Cynthia's sojourn,--many of them, bearing the Cambridge postmark. One +evening it was Jethro who laid the letter on the table beside her as she +sat under the lamp. He did not look at her or speak, but she felt that +he knew her secret--felt that he deserved to have from her own lips what +he had been too proud--yes--and too humble to ask. Whose sympathy could +she be sure of, if not of his? Still she had longed to keep this +treasure to herself. She took the letter in her hand. + +"I do not answer them, Uncle Jethro, but--I cannot prevent his writing +them," she faltered. She did not confess that she kept them, every one, +and read them over and over again; that she had grown, indeed, to look +forward to them as to a sustenance. "I--I do love him, but I will not +marry him." + +Yes, she could be sure of Jethro's sympathy, though he could not express +it in words. Yet she had not told him for this. She had told him, much +as the telling had hurt her, because she feared to cut him more deeply by +her silence. + +It was a terrible moment for Jethro, and never had he desired the gift of +speech as now. Had it not been for him; Cynthia might have been Robert +Worthington's wife. He sat down beside her and put his hand over hers +that lay on the letter in her lap. It was the only answer he could make, +but perhaps it was the best, after all. Of what use were words at such a +time! + +Four days afterward, on a Monday morning, she went back to Brampton to +begin the new term. + +That same Monday a circumstance of no small importance took place in +Brampton--nothing less than the return, after a prolonged absence in the +West and elsewhere, of its first citizen. Isaac D. Worthington was again +in residence. No bells were rung, indeed, and no delegation of citizens +as such, headed by the selectmen, met him at the station; and other +feudal expressions of fealty were lacking. No staff flew Mr. +Worthington's arms; nevertheless the lord of Brampton was in his castle +again, and Brampton felt that he was there. He arrived alone, wearing +the silk hat which had become habitual with him now, and stepping into +his barouche at the station had been driven up Brampton Street behind his +grays, looking neither to the right nor left. His reddish chop whiskers +seemed to cling a little more closely to his face than formerly, and long +years of compression made his mouth look sterner than ever. A hawk-like +man, Isaac Worthington, to be reckoned with and feared, whether in a +frock coat or in breastplate and mail. + +His seneschal, Mr. Flint, was awaiting him in the library. Mr. Flint was +large and very ugly, big-boned, smooth-shaven, with coarse features all +askew, and a large nose with many excrescences, and thick lips. He was +forty-two. From a foreman of the mills he had risen, step by step, to +his present position, which no one seemed able to define. He was, +indeed, a seneschal. He managed the mills in his lord's absence, and--if +the truth be told--in his presence; knotty questions of the Truro +Railroad were brought to Mr. Flint and submitted to Mr. Worthington, who +decided them, with Mr. Flint's advice; and, within the last three months, +Mr. Flint had invaded the realm of politics, quietly, as such a man +would, under the cover of his patron's name and glory. Mr. Flint it was +who had bought the Newcastle Guardian, who went occasionally to Newcastle +and spoke a few effective words now and then to the editor; and, if the +truth will out, Mr. Flint had largely conceived that scheme about the +railroads which was to set Mr. Worthington on the throne of the state, +although the scheme was not now being carried out according to Mr. +Flint's wishes. Mr. Flint was, in a sense, a Bismarck, but he was not as +yet all powerful. Sometimes his august master or one of his fellow petty +sovereigns would sweep Mr. Flint's plans into the waste basket, and then +Mr. Flint would be content to wait. To complete the character sketch, +Mr. Flint was not above hanging up his master's hat and coat, Which he +did upon the present occasion, and went up to Mr. Worthington's bedroom +to fetch a pocket handkerchief out of the second drawer. He even knew +where the handkerchiefs were kept. Lucky petty sovereigns sometimes +possess Mr. Flints to make them emperors. + +The august personage seated himself briskly at his desk. + +"So that scoundrel Bass is actually discredited at last," he said, +blowing his nose in the pocket handkerchief Mr. Flint had brought him. +"I lose patience when I think how long we've stood the rascal in this +state. I knew the people would rise in their indignation when they +learned the truth about him." + +Mr. Flint did not answer this. He might have had other views. + +"I wonder we did not think of it before," Mr. Worthington continued. "A +very simple remedy, and only requiring a little courage and--and--" (Mr. +Worthington was going to say money, but thought better of it) "and the +chimera disappears. I congratulate you, Flint." + +"Congratulate yourself," said Mr. Flint; "that would not have been my +way." + +"Very well, I congratulate myself," said the august personage, who was in +too good a humor to be put out by the rejection of a compliment. "You +remember what I said: the time was ripe, just publish a few biographical +articles telling people what he was, and Jethro Bass would snuff out like +a candle. Mr. Duncan tells me the town-meeting results are very good all +over the state. Even if we hadn't knocked out Jethro Bass, we'd have a +fair majority for our bill in the next legislature." + +"You know Bass's saying," answered Mr. Flint, "You can hitch that kind of +a hoss, but they won't always stay hitched." + +"I know, I know," said Mr. Worthington; "don't croak, Flint. We can buy +more hitch ropes, if necessary. Well, what's the outlay up to the +present? Large, I suppose. Well, whatever it is, it's small compared to +what we'll get for it." He laughed a little and rubbed his hands, and +then he remembered that capacity in which he stood before the world. +Yes, and he stood before himself in the same capacity. Isaac Worthington +may have deceived himself, but he may or may not have been a hero to his +seneschal. "We have to fight fire with fire," he added, in a pained +voice. "Let me see the account." + +"I have tabulated the expense in the different cities and towns," +answered Mr. Flint; "I will show you the account in a little while. The +expenses in Coniston were somewhat greater than the size of the town +justified, perhaps. But Sutton thought--" + +"Yes, yes," interrupted Mr. Worthington, "if it had cost as much to carry +Coniston as Newcastle, it would have been worth it--for the moral effect +alone." + +Moral effect! Mr. Flint thought of Mr. Bixby with his bulging pockets +going about the hills, and smiled at the manner in which moral effects +are sometimes obtained. + +"Any news, Flint?" + +No news yet, Mr. Flint might have answered. In a few minutes there might +be news, and plenty of it, for it lay ready to be hatched under Mr. +Worthington's eye. A letter in the bold and upright hand of his son was +on the top of the pile, placed there by Mr. Flint himself, who had +examined Mr. Worthington's face closely when he came in to see how much +he might know of its contents. He had decided that Mr. Worthington was +in too good a humor to know anything of them. Mr. Flint had not steamed +the letter open, and read the news; but he could guess at them pretty +shrewdly, and so could have the biggest fool in Brampton. That letter +contained the opening scene of the next act in the drama. + +Mr. Worthington cut the envelope and began to read, and while he did so +Mr. Flint, who was not afraid of man or beast, looked at him. It was a +manly and straight forward letter, and Mr. Worthington, no matter what +his opinions on the subject were, should have been proud of it. Bob +announced, first of all, that he was going to marry Cynthia Wetherell; +then he proceeded with praiseworthy self-control (for a lover) to +describe Cynthia's character and attainments: after which he stated that +Cynthia had refused him--twice, because she believed that Mr. Worthington +would oppose the marriage, and had declared that she would never be the +cause of a breach between father and son. Bob asked for his father's +consent, and hoped to have it, but he thought it only right to add that +he had given his word and his love, and did not mean to retract either. +He spoke of his visit to Brampton, and explained that Cynthia was +teaching school there, and urged his father to see her before he made a +decision. Mr. Worthington read it through to the end, his lips closing +tighter and tighter until his mouth was but a line across his face. +There was pain in the face, too, the kind of pain which anger sends, and +which comes with the tottering of a pride that is false. Of what +gratification now was the overthrow of Jethro Bass? + +He stared at the letter for a moment after he had finished it, and his +face grew a dark red. Then he seized the paper and tore it slowly, +deliberately, into bits. + +Dudley Worthington was not thinking then--not he!--of the young man in +the white beaver who had called at the Social Library many years before +to see a young woman whose name, too, had been Cynthia.--He was thinking, +in fact, for he was a man to think in anger, whether it were not possible +to remove this Cynthia from the face of the earth--at least to a place +beyond his horizon and that of his son. Had he worn the chain mail +instead of the frock coat he would have had her hung outside the town +walls. + +"Good God!" he exclaimed. And the words sounded profane indeed as he +fixed his eyes upon Mr. Flint. "You knew that Robert had been to +Brampton." + +"Yes," said Flint, "the whole village knew it." + +"Good God!" cried Mr. Worthington again, "why was I not informed of this? +Why was I not warned of this? Have I no friends? Do you pretend to look +after my interests and not take the trouble to write me on such a +subject." + +"Do you think I could have prevented it?" asked Mr. Flint, very calmly. + +"You allow this--this woman to come here to Brampton and teach school in +a place where she can further her designs? What were you about?" + +"When the prudential committee appointed her, nothing of this was known, +Mr. Worthington." + +"Yes, but now--now! What are you doing, what are they doing to allow her +to remain? Who are on that committee? + +Mr. Flint named the men. They had been reelected, as usual, at the +recent town-meeting. Mr. Errol, who had also been reelected, had +returned but had not yet issued the certificate or conducted the +examination. + +"Send for them, have them here at once," commanded Mr. Worthington, +without listening to this. + +"If you take my advice, you will do nothing of the kind," said Mr. Flint, +who, as usual, had the whole situation at his fingers' ends. He had +taken the trouble to inform himself about the girl, and he had +discovered, shrewdly enough, that she was the kind which might be led, +but not driven. If Mr. Flint's advice had been listened to, this story +might have had quite a different ending. But Mr. Flint had not reached +the stage where his advice was always listened to, and he had a maddened +man to deal with now. At that moment, as if fate had determined to +intervene, the housemaid came into the room. + +"Mr. Dodd to see you, sir," she said. + +"Show him in," shouted Mr. Worthington; "show him in!" + +Mr. Dodd was not a man who could wait for a summons which he had felt in +his bones was coming. He was ordinarily, as we have seen, officious. +But now he was thoroughly frightened. He had seen the great man in the +barouche as he drove past the hardware store, and he had made up his mind +to go up at once, and have it over with. His opinions were formed now, +He put a smile on his face when he was a foot outside of the library +door. + +"This is a great pleasure, Mr. Worthington, a great pleasure, to see you +back," he said, coming forward. "I callated--" + +But the great man sat in his chair, and made no attempt to return the +greeting. + +"Mr. Dodd, I thought you were my friend," he said. + +Mr. Dodd went all to pieces at this reception. + +"So I be, Mr. Worthington--so I be," he cried. "That's why I'm here now. +I've b'en a friend of yours ever since I can remember--never fluctuated. +I'd rather have chopped my hand off than had this happen--so I would. If +I could have foreseen what she was, she'd never have had the place, as +sure as my name's Levi Dodd." + +If Mr. Dodd had taken the trouble to look at the seneschal's face, he +would have seen a well-defined sneer there. + +"And now that you know what she is," cried Mr. Worthington, rising and +smiting the pile of letters on his desk, "why do you keep her there an +instant?" + +Mr. Dodd stopped to pick up the letters, which had flown over the floor. +But the great man was now in the full tide of his anger. + +"Never mind the letters," he shouted; "tell me why you keep her there." + +"We callated we'd wait and see what steps you'd like taken," said the +trembling townsman. + +"Steps! Steps! Good God! What kind of man are you to serve in such a +place when you allow the professed ward of Jethro Bass--of Jethro Bass, +the most notoriously depraved man in this state, to teach the children of +this town. Steps! How soon can you call your committee together?" + +"Right away," answered Mr. Dodd, breathlessly. He would have gone on to +exculpate himself, but Mr. Worthington's inexorable finger was pointing +at the door. + +"If you are a friend of mine," said that gentleman, "and if you have any +regard for the fair name of this town, you will do so at once." + +Mr. Dodd departed precipitately, and Mr. Worthington began to pace the +room, clasping his hands now in front of him, now behind him, in his +agony: repeating now and again various appellations which need not be +printed here, which he applied in turn to the prudential committee, to +his son, and to Cynthia Wetherell. + +"I'll run her out of Brampton," he said at last. + +"If you do," said Mr. Flint, who had been watching him apparently +unmoved, "you may have Jethro Bass on your back." + +"Jethro Bass?" shouted Mr. Worthington, with a laugh that was not +pleasant to hear, "Jethro Bass is as dead as Julius Caesar." + +It was one thing for Mr. Dodd to promise so readily a meeting of the +committee, and quite another to decide how he was going to get through +the affair without any more burns and scratches than were absolutely +necessary. He had reversed the usual order, and had been in the fire-- +now he was going to the frying-pan. He stood in the street for some +time, pulling at his tuft, and then made his way to Mr. Jonathan Hill's +feed store. Mr. Hill was reading "Sartor Resartus" in his little office, +the temperature of which must have been 95, and Mr. Dodd was perspiring +when he got there. + +"It's come," said Mr. Dodd, sententiously. + +"What's come?" inquired Mr. Hill, mildly. + +"Isaac D.'s come, that's what," said Mr. Dodd. "I hain't b'en sleepin' +well of nights, lately. I can't think what we was about, Jonathan, +puttin' that girl in the school. We'd ought to've knowed she wahn't +fit." + +"What's the matter with her?" inquired Mr. Hill. + +"Matter with her!" exclaimed his fellow-committeeman, "she lives with +Jethro Bass--she's his ward." + +"Well, what of it?" said Mr. Hill, who never bothered himself about +gossip or newspapers, or indeed about anything not between the covers of +a book, except when he couldn't help it. + +"Good God!" exclaimed Mr. Dodd, "he's the most notorious, depraved man in +the state. Hain't we got to look out for the fair name of Brampton?" + +Mr. Hill sighed and closed his book. + +"Well," he said; "I'd hoped we were through with that. Let's go up and +see what Judge Graves says about it." + +"Hold on," said Mr. Dodd, seizing the feed dealer by the coat, "we've got +to get it fixed in our minds what we're goin' to do, first. We can't +allow no notorious people in our schools. We've got to stand up to the +jedge, and tell him so. We app'inted her on his recommendation, you +know." + +"I like the girl," replied Mr. Hill. "I don't think we ever had a better +teacher. She's quiet, and nice appearin', and attends to her business." + +Mr. Dodd pulled his tuft, and cocked his head. + +"Mr. Worthington holds a note of yours, don't he, Jonathan?" + +Mr. Hill reflected. He said he thought perhaps Mr. Worthington did. + +"Well," said Mr. Dodd, "I guess we might as well go along up to the jedge +now as any time." + +But when they got there Mr. Dodd's knock was so timid that he had to +repeat it before the judge came to the door and peered at them over his +spectacles. + +"Well, gentlemen, what can I do for you?" he asked, severely, though he +knew well enough. He had not been taken by surprise many times during +the last forty years. Mr. Dodd explained that they wished a little +meeting of the committee. The judge ushered them into his bedroom, the +parlor being too good for such an occasion. + +"Now, gentlemen," said he, "let us get down to business. Mr. Worthington +arrived here to-day, he has seen Mr. Dodd, and Mr. Dodd has seen Mr. +Hill. Mr. Worthington is a political opponent of Jethro Bass, and wishes +Miss Wetherell dismissed. Mr. Dodd and Mr. Hill have agreed, for various +reasons which I will spare you, that Miss Wetherell should be dismissed. +Have I stated the case, gentlemen, or have I not?" + +Mr. Graves took off his spectacles and wiped them, looking from one to +the other of his very uncomfortable fellow-members. Mr. Hill did not +attempt to speak; but Mr. Dodd, who was not sure now that this was not +the fire and the other the frying-pan, pulled at his tuft until words +came to him. + +"Jedge," he said finally, "I must say I'm a mite surprised. I must say +your language is unwarranted." + +"The truth is never unwarranted," said the judge. + +"For the sake of the fair name of Brampton," began Mr. Dodd, "we cannot +allow--" + +"Mr. Dodd," interrupted the judge, "I would rather have Mr. Worthington's +arguments from Mr. Worthington himself, if I wanted them at all. There +is no need of prolonging this meeting. If I were to waste my breath +until six o'clock, it would be no use. I was about to say that your +opinions were formed, but I will alter that, and say that your minds are +fixed. You are determined to dismiss Miss Wetherell. Is it not so?" + +"I wish you'd hear me, Jedge," said Mr. Dodd, desperately. + +"Will you kindly answer me yes or no to that question," said the judge; +"my time is valuable." + +"Well, if you put it that way, I guess we are agreed that she hadn't +ought to stay. Not that I've anything against her personally -" + +"All right," said the judge, with a calmness that made them tremble. +They had never bearded him before. "All right, you are two to one and no +certificate has been issued. But I tell you this, gentlemen, that you +will live to see the day when you will bitterly regret this injustice to +an innocent and a noble woman, and Isaac D. Worthington will live to +regret it. You may tell him I said so. Good day, gentlemen." + +They rose. + +"Jedge," began Mr. Dodd again, "I don't think you've been quite fair with +us." + +"Fair!" repeated the judge, with unutterable scorn. "Good day, +gentlemen." And he slammed the door behind them. + +They walked down the street some distance before either of them spoke. + +"Goliah," said Mr. Dodd, at last, "did you ever hear such talk? He's got +the drattedest temper of any man I ever knew, and he never callates to +make a mistake. It's a little mite hard to do your duty when a man talks +that way." + +"I'm not sure we've done it," answered Mr. Hill. + +"Not sure!" ejaculated the hardware dealer, for he was now far enough +away from the judge's house to speak in his normal tone, "and she +connected with that depraved--" + +"Hold on," said Mr. Hill, with an astonishing amount of spirit for him, +"I've heard that before." + +Mr. Dodd looked at him, swallowed the wrong way and began to choke. + +"You hain't wavered, Jonathan?" he said, when he got his breath. + +"No, I haven't," said Mr. Hill, sadly; "but I wish to hell I had." + +Mr. Dodd looked at him again, and began to choke again. It was the first +time he had known Jonathan Hill to swear. + +"You're a-goin' to stick by what you agreed--by your principles?" + +"I'm going to stick by my bread and butter," said Mr. Hill, "not by my +principles. I wish to hell I wasn't." + +And so saying that gentleman departed, cutting diagonally across the +street through the snow, leaving Mr. Dodd still choking and pulling at +his tuft. This third and totally-unexpected shaking-up had caused him to +feel somewhat deranged internally, though it had not altered the opinions +now so firmly planted in his head. After a few moments, however, he had +collected himself sufficiently to move on once more, when he discovered +that he was repeating to himself, quite unconsciously, Mr. Hill's +profanity "I wish to hell I wasn't." The iron mastiffs glaring at him +angrily out of the snow banks reminded him that he was in front of Mr. +Worthington's door, and he thought he might as well go in at once and +receive the great man's gratitude. He certainly deserved it. But as he +put his hand on the bell Mr. Worthington himself came out of the house, +and would actually have gone by without noticing Mr. Dodd if he had not +spoken. + +"I've got that little matter fixed, Mr. Worthington," he said, "called +the committee, and we voted to discharge the--the young woman." No, he +did not deliver Judge Graves's message. + +"Very well, Mr. Dodd," answered the great man, passing on so that Mr. +Dodd was obliged to follow him in order to hear, "I'm glad you've come to +your senses at last. Kindly step into the library and tell Miss Bruce +from me that she may fill the place to-morrow." + +"Certain," said Mr. Dodd, with his hand to his chin. He watched the +great man turn in at his bank in the new block, and then he did as he was +bid. + +By the time school was out that day the news had leaped across Brampton +Street and spread up and down both sides of it that the new teacher had +been dismissed. The story ran fairly straight--there were enough clews, +certainly. The great man's return, the visit of Mr. Dodd, the call on +Judge Graves, all had been marked. The fiat of the first citizen had +gone forth that the ward of Jethro Bass must be got rid of; the designing +young woman who had sought to entrap his son must be punished for her +amazing effrontery. + +Cynthia came out of school happily unaware that her name was on the lips +of Brampton: unaware, too, that the lord of the place had come into +residence that day. She had looked forward to living in the same town +with Bob's father as an evil which was necessary to be borne, as one of +the things which are more or less inevitable in the lives of those who +have to make their own ways in the world. The children trooped around +her, and the little girls held her hand, and she talked and laughed with +them as she came up the street in the eyes of Brampton,--came up the +street to the block of new buildings where the bank was. Stepping out of +the bank, with that businesslike alertness which characterized him, was +the first citizen--none other. He found himself entangled among the +romping children and--horror of horrors he bumped into the schoolmistress +herself! Worse than this, he had taken off his hat and begged her pardon +before he looked at her and realized the enormity of his mistake. And +the schoolmistress had actually paid no attention to him, but with merely +heightened color had drawn the children out of his way and passed on +without a word. The first citizen, raging inwardly, but trying to appear +unconcerned, walked rapidly back to his house. On the street of his own +town, before the eyes of men, he had been snubbed by a school-teacher. +And such a schoolteacher! + +Mr. Worthington, as he paced his library burning with the shame of this +occurrence, remembered that he had had to glance at her twice before it +came over him who she was. His first sensation had been astonishment. +And now, in spite of his bitter anger, he had to acknowledge that the +face had made an impression on him--a fact that only served to increase +his rage. A conviction grew upon him that it was a face which his son, +or any other man, would not be likely to forget. He himself could not +forget it. + +In the meantime Cynthia had reached her home, her cheeks still smarting, +conscious that people had stared at her. This much, of course, she knew +--that Brampton believed Bob Worthington to be in love with her: and the +knowledge at such times made her so miserable that the thought of +Jethro's isolation alone deterred her from asking Miss Lucretia Penniman +for a position in Boston. For she wrote to Miss Lucretia about her life +and her reading, as that lady had made her promise to do. She sat down +now at the cherry chest of drawers that was also a desk, to write: not to +pour out her troubles, for she never had done that,--but to calm her mind +by drawing little character sketches of her pupils. But she had only +written the words, "My dear Miss Lucretia," when she looked out of the +window and saw Judge Graves coming up the path, and ran to open the door +for him. + +"How do you do, Judge?" she said, for she recognized Mr. Graves as one of +her few friends in Brampton. "I have sent to Boston for the new reader, +but it has not come." + +The judge took her hand and pressed it and led her into the little +sitting room. His face was very stern, but his eyes, which had flung +fire at Mr. Dodd, looked at her with a vast compassion. Her heart +misgave her. + +"My dear," he said,--it was long since the judge had called any woman "my +dear,"--"I have bad news for you. The committee have decided that you +cannot teach any longer in the Brampton school." + +"Oh, Judge," she answered, trying to force back the tears which would +come, "I have tried so hard. I had begun to believe that I could fill +the place." + +"Fill the place!" cried the judge, startling her with his sudden anger. +"No woman in the state can fill it better than you." + +"Then why am I dismissed?" she asked breathlessly. + +The judge looked at her in silence, his blue lips quivering. Sometimes +even he found it hard to tell the truth. And yet he had come to tell it, +that she might suffer less. He remembered the time when Isaac D. +Worthington had done him a great wrong. + +"You are dismissed," he said, "because Mr. Worthington has come home, and +because the two other members of the committee are dogs and cowards." +Mr. Graves never minced matters when he began, and his voice shook with +passion. "If Mr. Errol had examined you, and you had your certificate, +it might have been different. Errol is not a sycophant. Worthington +does not hold his mortgage." + +"Mortgage!" exclaimed Cynthia. The word always struck terror to her +soul. + +"Mr. Worthington holds Mr. Hill's mortgage," said Mr. Graves, more than +ever beside himself at the sight of her suffering. "That man's tyranny +is not to be borne. We will not give up, Cynthia. I will fight him in +this matter if it takes my last ounce of strength, so help me God!" + +Mortgage! Cynthia sank down in the chair by the desk. In spite of the +misery the news had brought, the thought that his father, too, who was +fighting Jethro Bass as a righteous man, dealt in mortgages and coerced +men to do his will, was overwhelming. So she sat for a while staring at +the landscape on the old wall paper. + +"I will go to Coniston to-night," she said at last. + +"No," cried the judge, seizing her shoulder in his excitement, "no. +Do you think that I have been your friend--that I am your friend?" + +"Oh, Judge Graves--" + +"Then stay here, where you are. I ask it as a favor to me. You need not +go to the school to-morrow--indeed, you cannot. But stay here for a day +or two at least, and if there is any justice left in a free country, we +shall have it. Will you stay, as a favor to me?" + +"I will stay, since you ask it," said Cynthia. "I will do what you think +right." + +Her voice was firmer than he expected--much firmer. He glanced at her +quickly, with something very like admiration in his eye. + +"You are a good woman, and a brave woman," he said, and with this +somewhat surprising tribute he took his departure instantly. + +Cynthia was left to her thoughts, and these were harassing and sorrowful +enough. One idea, however, persisted through them all. Mr. Worthington, +whose power she had lived long enough in Brampton to know, was an unjust +man and a hypocrite. That thought was both sweet and bitter: sweet, as a +retribution; and bitter, because he was Bob's father. She realized, now, +that Bob knew these things, and she respected and loved him the more, if +that were possible, because he had refrained from speaking of them to +her. And now another thought came, and though she put it resolutely from +her, persisted. Was she not justified now in marrying him? The +reasoning was false, so she told herself. She had no right to separate +Bob from his father, whatever his father might be. Did not she still +love Jethro Bass? Yes, but he had renounced his ways. Her heart swelled +gratefully as she spoke the words to herself, and she reflected that he, +at least, had never been a hypocrite. + +Of one thing she was sure, now. In the matter of the school she had +right on her side, and she must allow Judge Graves to do whatever he +thought proper to maintain that right. If Isaac D. Worthington's +character had been different, this would not have been her decision. Now +she would not leave Brampton in disgrace, when she had done nothing to +merit it. Not that she believed that the judge would prevail against +such mighty odds. So little did she think so that she fell, presently, +into a despondency which in all her troubles had not overtaken her--the +despondency which comes even to the pure and the strong when they feel +the unjust strength of the world against them. In this state her eyes +fell on the letter she had started to Miss Lucretia Penniman, and in +desperation she began to write. + +It was a short letter, reserved enough, and quite in character. It was +right that she should defend herself, which she did with dignity, saying +that she believed the committee had no fault to find with her duties, but +that Mr. Worthington had seen fit to bring influence to bear upon them +because of her connection with Jethro Bass. + +It was not the whole truth, but Cynthia could not bring herself to write +of that other reason. At the end she asked, very simply, if Miss +Lucretia could find her something to do in Boston in case her dismissal +became certain. Then she put on her coat, and walked to the postoffice +to post the letter, for she resolved that there could be no shame without +reason for it. There was a little more color in her cheeks, and she held +her head high, preparing to be slighted. But she was not slighted, and +got more salutations, if anything, than usual. She was, indeed, in the +right not to hide her head, and policy alone would have forbade it, had +Cynthia thought of policy. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +Public opinion is like the wind--it bloweth where it listeth. It +whistled around Brampton the next day, whirling husbands and wives apart, +and families into smithereens. Brampton had a storm all to itself--save +for a sympathetic storm raging in Coniston--and all about a school- +teacher. + +Had Cynthia been a certain type of woman, she would have had all the men +on her side and all of her own sex against her. It is a decided point to +be recorded in her favor that she had among her sympathizers as many +women as men. But the excitement of a day long remembered in Brampton +began, for her, when a score or more of children assembled in front of +the little house, tramping down the snow on the grass plots, shouting for +her to come to school with them. Children give no mortgages, or keep no +hardware stores. + +Cynthia, trying to read in front of the fire, was all in a tremble at the +sound of the high-pitched little voices she had grown to love, and she +longed to go out and kiss them, every one. Her nature, however, shrank +from any act which might appear dramatic or sensational. She could not +resist going to the window and smiling at them, though they appeared but +dimly--little dancing figures in a mist. And when they shouted, the more +she shook her head and put her finger to her lips in reproof and vanished +from their sight. Then they trooped sadly on to school, resolved to make +matters as disagreeable as possible for poor Miss Bruce, who had not +offended in any way. + +Two other episodes worthy of a place in this act of the drama occurred +that morning, and one had to do with Ephraim. Poor Ephraim! His way had +ever been to fight and ask no questions, and in his journey through the +world he had gathered but little knowledge of it. He had limped home the +night before in a state of anger of which Cynthia had not believed him +capable, and had reappeared in the sitting room in his best suit of blue. + +"Where are you going, Cousin Eph?" Cynthia had asked suspiciously. + +"Never you mind, Cynthy." + +"But I do mind," she said, catching hold of his sleeve. "I won't let you +go until you confess." + +"I'm a-goin' to tell Isaac Worthington what I think of him, that's whar +I'm a-goin'," cried Ephraim "what I always hev thought of him sence he +sent a substitute to the war an' acted treasonable here to home talkin' +ag'in' Lincoln." + +"Oh, Cousin Eph, you mustn't," said Cynthia, clinging to him with all her +strength in her dismay. It had taken every whit of her influence to +persuade him to relinquish his purpose. Cynthia knew very well that +Ephraim meant to lay hands on Mr. Worthington, and it would indeed have +been a disastrous hour for the first citizen if the old soldier had ever +got into his library. Cynthia pointed out, as best she might, that it +would be an evil hour for her, too, and that her cause would be greatly +injured by such a proceeding; she knew very well that it would ruin +Ephraim, but he would not have listened to such an argument. + +The next thing he wished to do was to go to Coniston and rouse Jethro. +Cynthia's heart stood still when he proposed this, for it touched upon +her greatest fear,--which had impelled her to go to Coniston. But she +had hoped and believed that Jethro, knowing her feelings, would do +nothing--since for her sake he had chosen to give up his power. Now an +acute attack of rheumatism had come to her rescue, and she succeeded in +getting Ephraim off to bed, swathed in bandages. + +The next morning he had insisted upon hobbling away to the postoffice, +where in due time he was discovered by certain members of the Brampton +Club nailing to the wall a new engraving of Abraham Lincoln, and draping +it with a little silk flag he had bought in Boston. By which it will be +seen that a potion of the Club were coming back to their old haunt. This +portion, it may be surmised, was composed of such persons alone as were +likely to be welcomed by the postmaster. Some of these had grievances +against Mr. Worthington or Mr. Flint; others, in more prosperous +circumstances, might have been moved by envy of these gentlemen; still +others might have been actuated largely by righteous resentment at what +they deemed oppression by wealth and power. These members who came that +morning comprised about one-fourth of those who formerly had been in the +habit of dropping in for a chat, and their numbers were a fair indication +of the fact that those who from various motives took the part of the +schoolteacher in Brampton were as one to three. + +It is not necessary to repeat their expressions of indignation and +sympathy. There was a certain Mr. Gamaliel Ives in the town, belonging +to an old Brampton family, who would have been the first citizen if that +other first citizen had not, by his rise to wealth and power, so +completely overshadowed him. Mr. Ives owned a small mill on Coniston +Water below the town. He fairly bubbled over with civic pride, and he +was an authority on all matters. pertaining to Brampton's history. He +knew the "Hymn to Coniston" by heart. But we are digressing a little. +Mr. Ives, like that other Gamaliel of old, had exhorted his fellow- +townsmen to wash their hands of the controversy. But he was an intimate +of Judge Graves, and after talking with that gentleman he became a +partisan overnight; and when he had stopped to get his mail he had been +lured behind the window by the debate in progress. He was in the midst +of some impromptu remarks when he recognized a certain brisk step behind +him, and Isaac D. Worthington himself entered the sanctum! + +It must be explained that Mr. Worthington sometimes had an important +letter to be registered which he carried to the postoffice with his own +hands. On such occasions--though not a member of the Brampton Club--he +walked, as an overlord will, into any private place he chose, and +recognized no partitions or barriers. Now he handed the letter +(addressed to a certain person in Cambridge, Massachusetts) to the +postmaster. + +"You will kindly register that and give me a receipt, Mr. Prescott," he +said. + +Ephraim turned from his contemplation of the features of the martyred +President, and on his face was something of the look it might have worn +when he confronted his enemies over the log-works at Five Forks. No, for +there was a vast contempt in his gaze now, and he had had no contempt for +the Southerners, and would have shaken hands with any of them the moment +the battle was over. Mr. Worthington, in spite of himself, recoiled a +little before that look, fearing, perhaps, physical violence. + +"I hain't a-goin' to hurt you, Mr. Worthington," Ephraim said, "but I am +a-goin' to ask you to git out in front, and mighty quick. If you hev any +business with the postmaster, there's the window," and Ephraim pointed to +it with his twisted finger. "I don't allow nobody but my friends here, +Mr. Worthington, and people I respect." + +Mr. Worthington looked--well, eye-witnesses give various versions as to +how he looked. All agree that his lip trembled; some say his eyes +watered: at any rate, he quailed, stood a moment undecided, and then +swung on his heel and walked to the partition door. At this safe +distance he turned. + +"Mr. Prescott," he said, his voice quivering with passion and perhaps +another emotion, "I will make it my duty to report to the postmaster- +general the manner in which this office is run. Instead of attending to +your business, you make the place a resort for loafers and idlers. Good +morning, sir." + +Ten minutes later Mr. Flint himself came to register the letter. But it +was done at the window, and the loafers and idlers were still there. + +The curtain had risen again, indeed, and the action was soon fast enough +for the most impatient that day. No sooner had the town heard with bated +breath of the expulsion of the first citizen from the inner sanctuary of +the post-office, than the news of another event began to go the rounds. +Mr. Worthington had other and more important things to think about than +minor postmasters, and after his anger and--yes, and momentary fear had +subsided, he forgot the incident except to make a mental note to remember +to deprive Mr. Prescott of his postmastership, which he believed could be +done readily enough now that Jethro Bass was out of the way. Then he had +stepped into the bank, which he had come to regard as his own bank, as he +regarded most institutions in Brampton. He had, in the old days, been +president of it, as we know. He stepped into the bank, and then--he +stepped out again. + +Most people have experienced that sickly feeling of the diaphragm which +sometimes comes from a sadden shock. Mr. Worthington had it now as he +hurried up the street, and he presently discovered that he was walking in +the direction opposite to that of his own home. He crossed the street, +made a pretence of going into Mr. Goldthwaite's drug store, and hurried +back again. When he reached his own library, he found Mr. Flint busy +there at his desk. Mr. Flint rose. Mr. Worthington sat down and began +to pull the papers about in a manner which betrayed to his seneschal (who +knew every mood of his master) mental perturbation. + +"Flint," he said at last, striving his best for an indifferent accent, +"Jethro Bass is here--I ran across him just now drawing money in the +bank." + +"I could have told you that this morning," answered Mr. Flint. "Wheeler, +who runs errands for him in Coniston, drove him in this morning, and he's +been with Peleg Hartington for two hours over Sherman's livery stable." + +An interval of silence followed, during which Mr. Worthington shuffled +with his letters and pretended to read them. + +"Graves has called a mass meeting to-night, I understand," he remarked in +the same casual way. "The man's a demagogue, and mad as a loon. I +believe he sent back one of our passes once, didn't he? I suppose Bass +has come in to get Hartington to work up the meeting. They'll be laughed +out of the town hall, or hissed out." + +"I guess you'll find Bass has come down for something else," said Mr. +Flint, looking up from a division report. + +"What do you mean?" demanded Mr. Worthington, changing his attitude to +one of fierceness. But he was well aware that whatever tone he took with +his seneschal, he never fooled him. + +"I mean what I told you yesterday," said Flint, "that you've stirred up +the dragon." + +Even Mr. Flint did not know how like a knell his words sounded in Isaac +Worthington's ears. + +"Nonsense!" he cried, "you're talking nonsense, Flint. We maimed him too +thoroughly for that. He hasn't power enough left to carry his own town." + +"All right," said the seneschal. + +"What do you mean by that?" said his master, with extreme irritation. + +"I mean what I said yesterday, that we haven't maimed him at all. He had +his own reasons for going into his hole, and he never would have come out +again if you hadn't goaded him. Now he's out, and we'll have to step +around pretty lively, I can tell you, or he'll maim us." + +All of which goes to show that Mr. Flint had some notion of men and +affairs. He became, as may be predicted, the head of many material +things in later days, and he may sometime reappear in company with other +characters in this story. + +The sickly feeling in Mr. Worthington's diaphragm had now returned. + +"I think you will find you are mistaken, Flint," he said, attempting +dignity now. "Very much mistaken." + +"Very well," said Flint, "perhaps I am. But I believe you'll find he +left for the capital on the eleven o'clock, and if you take the trouble +to inquire from Bedding you will probably learn that the Throne Room is +bespoken for the session." + +All of that which Mr, Flint had predicted turned out to be true. The +dragon had indeed waked up. It all began with the news Milly Skinner had +got from the stage driver, imparted to Jethro as he sat reading about +Hiawatha. And terrible indeed had been that awakening. This dragon did +not bellow and roar and lash his tail when he was roused, but he stood +up, and there seemed to emanate from him a fire which frightened poor +Milly Skinner, upset though she was by the news of Cynthia's dismissal. +O, wondrous and paradoxical might of love, which can tame the most +powerful of beasts, and stir them again into furies by a touch! + +Coniston was the first to tremble, as though the forces stretching +themselves in the tannery house were shaking the very ground, and the +name of Jethro Bass took on once more, as by magic, a terrible meaning. +When Vesuvius is silent, pygmies may make faces on the very lip of the +crater, and they on the slopes forget the black terror of the fiery hail. +Jake Wheeler himself, loyal as he was, did not care to look into the +crater now that he was summoned; but a force pulled him all the way to +the tannery house. He left behind him an awe-stricken gathering at the +store, composed of inhabitants who had recently spoken slightingly of the +volcano. + +We are getting a little mixed in our metaphors between lions and dragons +and volcanoes, and yet none of them are too strong to represent Jethro +Bass when he heard that Isaac Worthington had had the teacher dismissed +from Brampton lower school. He did not stop to reason then that action +might distress her. The beast in him awoke again; the desire for +vengeance on a man whom he had hated most of his life, and who now had +dared to cause pain to the woman whom he loved with all his soul, and +even idolize~l, was too great to resist. He had no thought of resisting +it, for the waters of it swept over his soul like the Atlantic over a +lost continent. He would crush Isaac Worthington if it took the last +breath from his body. + +Jake went to the tannery house and received his orders--orders of which +he made a great mystery afterward at the store, although they consisted +simply of directions to be prepared to drive Jethro to Brampton the next +morning. But the look of the man had frightened Jake. He had never seen +vengeance so indelibly written on that face, and he had never before +realized the terrible power of vengeance. Mr. Wheeler returned from that +meeting in such a state of trepidation that he found it necessary to +accompany Rias to a certain keg in the cellar; after which he found his +tongue. His description of Jethro's appearance awed his hearers, and +Jake declared that he would not be in Isaac Worthington's shoes for all +of Isaac Worthington's money. There were others right here in Coniston, +Jake hinted, who might now find it convenient to emigrate to the far +West. + +Jethro's face had not changed when Jake drove him out of Coniston the +next morning. Good Mr. Satterlee saw it, and felt that the visit he had +wished to make would have been useless; Mr. Amos Cuthbert and Mr. Sam +Price saw it, from a safe distance within the store, and it is a fact +that Mr. Price seriously thought of taking Mr. Wheeler's advice about a +residence in the West; Mr. Cuthbert, of a sterner nature, made up his +mind to be hung and quartered. A few minutes before Jethro walked into +his office over the livery stable, Senator Peleg Hartington would have +denied, with that peculiar and mournful scorn of which he was master, +that Jethro Bass could ever again have any influence over him. Peleg +was, indeed, at that moment preparing, in his own way, to make overtures +to the party of Isaac D. Worthington. Jethro walked into the office, +leaving Jake below with Mr. Sherman; and Senator Hartington was very glad +he had not made the overtures. And when he accompanied Jethro to the +station when he left for the capital, the senator felt that the eyes of +men were upon him. + +And Cynthia? Happily, Cynthia passed the day in ignorance that Jethro +had gone through Brampton. Ephraim, though he knew of it, did not speak +of it when he came home to his dinner; Mr. Graves had called, and +informed her of the meeting in the town hall that night. + +"It is our only chance," he said obdurately, in answer to her protests. +"We must lay the case before the people of Brampton. If they have not +the courage to right the wrong, and force your reinstatement through +public opinion, there is nothing more to be done." + +To Cynthia, the idea of having a mass meeting concerning herself was +particularly repellent. + +"Oh, Judge Graves!" she cried, "if there isn't any other way, please drop +the matter. There are plenty of teachers who will--be acceptable to +everybody." + +"Cynthia," said the judge, "I can understand that this publicity is very +painful to you. I beg you to remember that we are contending for a +principle. In such cases the individual must be sacrificed to the common +good." + +"But I cannot go to the meeting--I cannot." + +"No," said the judge; "I don't think that will be necessary." + +After he was gone, she could think of nothing but the horror of having +her name--yes, and her character--discussed in that public place; and it +seemed to her, if she listened, she could hear a clatter of tongues +throughout the length of Brampton Street, and that she must fain stop her +ears or go mad. The few ladies who called during the day out of kindness +or curiosity, or both, only added to her torture. She was not one who +could open her heart to acquaintances: the curious ones got but little +satisfaction, and the kind ones thought her cold, and they did not +perceive that she was really grateful for their little attentions. +Gratitude, on such occasions, does not always consist in pouring out +one's troubles in the laps of visitors. + +So the visitors went home, wondering whether it were worth while after +all to interest themselves in the cause of such a self-contained and +self-reliant young woman. In spite of all her efforts, Cynthia had never +wholly succeeded in making most of the Brampton ladies believe that she +did not secretly deem herself above them. They belonged to a reserved +race themselves; but Cynthia had a reserve which was even different from +their own. + +As night drew on the predictions of Mr. Worthington seemed likely to be +fulfilled, and it looked as if Judge Graves would have a useless bill to +pay for gas in the new town hall. The judge had never been a man who +could compel a following, and he had no magnetism with which to lead a +cause: the town tradesmen, especially those in the new brick block, would +be chary as to risking the displeasure of their best customer. At half- +past seven Mr. Graves: came in, alone, and sat on the platform staring +grimly at his gas. Is there a lecturer, or, a playwright, or a +politician, who has not, at one time or another, been in the judge's +place? Who cannot sympathize with him as he watched the thin and +hesitating stream of people out of the corner of his eye as they came in +at the door? The judge despised them with all his soul, but it is human +nature not to wish to sit in a hall or a theatre that is three-quarters +empty. + +At sixteen minutes to eight a mild excitement occurred, an incident of +some significance which served to detain many waverers. Senator Peleg +Hartington walked up the aisle, and the judge rose and shook him by the +hand, and as Deacon Hartington he was invited to sit on the platform. +The senator's personal influence was not to be ignored; and it had +sufficed to carry his district in the last election against the +Worthington forces, in spite of the abdication of Jethro Bass. Mr. Page, +the editor of the Clarion, Senator Hartington's organ, was also on the +platform. But where was Mr. Ives? Where was that Gamaliel who had been +such a warm partisan in the postoffice that morning? + +"Saw him outside the hall--wahn't but ten minutes ago," said Deacon +Hartington, sadly; "thought he was a-comin' in." + +Eight o'clock came, and no Mr. Ives; ten minutes past--fifteen minutes +past. If the truth must be told, Mr. Ives had been on the very threshold +of the hall, and one glance at the poor sprinkling of people there had +decided him. Mr. Ives had a natural aversion to being laughed at, and as +he walked back on the darker side of the street he wished heartily that +he had stuck to his original Gamaliel-advocacy of no interference, of +allowing the Supreme Judge to decide. Such opinions were inevitably +just, Mr. Ives was well aware, though not always handed down immediately. +If he were to humble the first citizen, Mr. Ives reflected that a better +opportunity might present itself. The whistle of the up-train served to +strengthen his resolution, for he was reminded thereby that his mill +often had occasion to ask favors of the Truro Railroad. + +In the meantime it was twenty minutes past eight in the town hall, and +Mr. Graves had not rapped for order. Deacon Hartington sat as motionless +as a stork on the borders of a glassy lake at sunrise, the judge had +begun seriously to estimate the gas bill, and Mr. Page had chewed up the +end of a pencil. There was one, at least, in the audience of whom the +judge could be sure. A certain old soldier in blue sat uncompromisingly +on the front bench with his hands crossed over the head of his stick; but +the ladies and gentlemen nearest the door were beginning to vanish, one +by one, silently as ghosts, when suddenly the judge sat up. He would +have rubbed his eyes, had he been that kind of a man. Four persons had +entered the hall--he was sure of it--and with no uncertain steps as if +frightened by its emptiness. No, they came boldly. And after them +trooped others, and still others were heard in the street beyond, not +whispering, but talking in the unmistakable tones of people who had more +coming behind them. Yes, and more came. It was no illusion, or +delusion: there they were filling the hall as if they meant to stay, and +buzzing with excitement. The judge was quivering with excitement now, +but he, too, was only a spectator of the drama. And what a drama, with a +miracle-play for Brampton! + +Mr. Page rose from his chair and leaned over the edge of the platform +that something might be whispered in his ear. The news, whatever it was, +was apparently electrifying, and after the first shock he turned to +impart it to Mr. Graves; but turned too late, for the judge had already +rapped for order and was clearing his throat. He could not account for +this extraordinary and unlooked-for audience, among whom he spied many +who had thought it wiser not to protest against the dictum of the first +citizen, and many who had professed to believe that the teacher's +connection with Jethro Bass was a good and sufficient reason for +dismissal. The judge was prepared to take advantage of the tide, +whatever its cause. + +"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "I take the liberty of calling this +meeting to order. And before a chairman be elected, I mean to ask your +indulgence to explain my purposes in requesting the use of this hall to- +night. In our system of government, the inalienable and most precious +gift--" + +Whatever the gift was, the judge never explained. He paused at the +words, and repeated them, and stopped altogether because no one was +paying any attention to him. The hall was almost full, the people had +risen, with a hum, and as one man had turned toward the door. Mr. +Gamaliel Ives was triumphantly marching down the aisle, and with him was +--well, another person. Nay, personage would perhaps be the better word. + +Let us go back for a moment. There descended from that train of which we +have heard the whistle a lady with features of no ordinary moulding, with +curls and a string bonnet and a cloak that seemed strangely to harmonize +with the lady's character. She had the way of one in authority, and Mr. +Sherman himself ran to open the door of his only closed carriage, and the +driver galloped off with her all the way to the Brampton House. Once +there, the lady seized the pen as a soldier seizes the sword, and wrote +her name in most uncompromising characters on the register, Miss Lucretia +Penniman, Boston. Then she marched up to her room. + +Miss Lucretia Penniman, author of the "Hymn to Coniston," in the +reflected glory of whose fame Brampton had shone for thirty years! Whose +name was lauded and whose poem was recited at every Fourth of July +celebration, that the very children might learn it and honor its +composer! Stratford-on-Avon is not prouder of Shakespeare than Brampton +of Miss Lucretia, and now she was come back, unheralded, to her +birthplace. Mr. Raines, the clerk, looked at the handwriting on the +book, and would not believe his own sight until it was vouched for by +sundry citizens who had followed the lady from the station--on foot. And +then there was a to-do. + +Send for Mr. Gamaliel Ives; send for Miss Bruce, the librarian; send for +Mr. Page, editor of the Clarion, and notify the first citizen. He, +indeed, could not be sent for, but had he known of her coming he would +undoubtedly have had her met at the portals and presented with the keys +in gold. Up and down the street flew the news which overshadowed and +blotted out all other, and the poor little school-teacher was forgotten. + +One of these notables was at hand, though he did not deserve to be. Mr. +Gamaliel Ives sent up his card to Miss Lucretia, and was shown +deferentially into the parlor, where he sat mopping his brow and growing +hot and cold by turns. How would the celebrity treat him? The celebrity +herself answered the question by entering the room in such stately manner +as he had expected, to the rustle of the bombazine. Whereupon Mr. Ives +bounced out of his chair and bowed, though his body was not formed to +bend that way. + +"Miss Penniman," he exclaimed, "what an honor for Brampton! And what a +pleasure, the greater because so unexpected! How cruel not to have given +us warning, and we could have greeted you as your great fame deserves! +You could never take time from your great duties to accept the +invitations of our literary committee, alas! But now that you are here, +you will find a warm welcome, Miss Penniman. How long it has been-- +thirty years,--you see I know it to a day, thirty years since you left +us. Thirty years, I may say, we have kept burning the vestal fire in +your worship, hoping for this hour." + +Miss Lucretia may have had her own ideas about the propriety of the +reference to the vestal fire. + +"Gamaliel," she said sharply, "straighten up and don't talk nonsense to +me. I've had you on my knee, and I knew your mother and father." + +Gamaliel did straighten up, as though Miss Lucretia had applied a lump of +ice to the small of his back. So it is when the literary deities, vestal +or otherwise, return to their Stratfords. There are generally surprises +in store for the people they have had on their knees, and for others. + +"Gamaliel," said Miss Lucretia, "I want to see the prudential committee +for the village district." + +"The prudential committee!" Mr. Ives fairly shrieked the words in his +astonishment. + +"I tried to speak plainly," said Miss Lucretia. "Who are on that +committee?" + +"Ezra Graves," said Mr. Ives, as though mechanically compelled, for his +head was spinning round. "Ezra Graves always has run it, until now. But +he's in the town hall." + +"What's he doing there?" + +Mr. Ives was no fool. Some inkling of the facts began to shoot through +his brain, and he saw his chance. + +"He called a mass meeting to protest against the dismissal of a teacher." + +"Gamaliel," said Miss Lucretia, "you will conduct me to that meeting. I +will get my cloak." + +Mr. Ives wasted no time in the interval, and he fairly ran out into the +office. Miss Lucretia Penniman was in town, and would attend the mass +meeting. Now, indeed, it was to be a mass meeting. Away flew the +tidings, broadcast, and people threw off their carpet slippers and +dressing gowns, and some who had gone to bed got up again. Mr. Dodd +heard it, and changed his shoes three times, and his intentions three +times three. Should he go, or should he not? Already he heard in +imagination the first distant note of the populace, and he was not of the +metal to defend a Bastille or a Louvre for his royal master with the last +drop of his blood. + +In the meantime Gamaliel Ives was conducting Miss Lucretia toward, the +town hall, and speaking in no measured tones of indignation of the +cringing, truckling qualities of that very Mr. Dodd. The injustice to +Miss Wetherell, which Mr. Ives explained as well as he could, made his +blood boil: so he declared. + +And note we are back again at the meeting, when the judge, with his hand +on his Adam's apple, is pronouncing the word "gift." Mr. Ives is +triumphantly marching down the aisle, escorting the celebrity of Brampton +to the platform, and quite aware of the heart burnings of his fellow- +citizens on the benches. And Miss Lucretia, with that stern composure +with which celebrities accept public situations, follows up the steps as +of right and takes the chair he assigns her beside the chairman. The +judge, still grasping his Adam's apple, stares at the newcomer in +amazement, and recognizes her in spite of the years, and trembles. Miss +Lucretia Penniman! Blucher was not more welcome to Wellington, or +Lafayette to Washington, than was Miss Lucretia to Ezra Graves as he +turned his back on the audience and bowed to her deferentially. Then he +turned again, cleared his throat once more to collect his senses, and was +about to utter the familiar words, "We have with us tonight," when they +were taken out of his mouth--taken out of his mouth by one who had in all +conscience stolen enough thunder for one man,--Mr. Gamaliel Ives. + +"Mr. Chairman," said Mr. Ives, taking a slight dropping of the judge's +lower jaw for recognition, "and ladies and gentlemen of Brampton. It is +our great good fortune to have with us to-night, most unexpectedly, one +of whom Brampton is, and for many years has been, justly proud." +(Cheers.) "One whose career Brampton has followed with a mother's eyes +and with a mother's heart. One who has chosen a broader field for the +exercise of those great powers with which Nature endowed her than +Brampton could give. One who has taken her place among the luminaries of +literature of her time." (Cheers.) "One who has done more than any +other woman of her generation toward the uplifting of the sex which she +honors." (Cheers and clapping of hands.) "And one who, though her lot +has fallen among the great, has not forgotten the home of her childhood. +For has she not written those beautiful lines which we all know by heart? + + 'Ah, Coniston! Thy lordly form I see + Before mine eyes in exile drear.' + +"Mr. Chairman and fellow-townsmen and women, I have the extreme honor of +introducing to you one whom we all love and revere, the author of the +'Hymn to Coniston,' the editor of the Woman's Hour, Miss Lucretia +Penniman.' (Loud and long-continued applause.) + +Well might Brampton be proud, too, of Gamaliel Ives, president of its +literary club, who could make such a speech as this on such short notice. +If the truth be told, the literary club had sent Miss Lucretia no less +than seven invitations, and this was the speech Mr. Ives had intended to +make on those seven occasions. It was unquestionably a neat speech, and +Judge Graves or no other chairman should cheat him out of making it. Mr. +Ives, with a wave of his hand toward the celebrity, sat down by no means +dissatisfied with himself. What did he care how the judge glared. He +did not see how stiffly Miss Lucretia sat in her chair. She could not +take him on her knee then, but she would have liked to. + +Miss Lucretia rose, and stood quite as stiffly as she had sat, and the +judge rose, too. He was very angry, but this was not the time to get +even with Mr. Ives. As it turned out, he did not need to bother about +getting even. + +"Ladies and gentlemen," said he, "in the absence of any other chairman I +take pleasure in introducing to you Miss Lucretia Penniman." + +More applause was started, but Miss Lucretia put a stop to it by the +lifting of a hand. Then there was a breathless silence. Then she cast +her eyes around the hall, as though daring any one to break that silence, +and finally they rested upon Mr. Ives. + +"Mr. Chairman," she said, with an inclination toward the judge, "my +friends--for I hope you will be my friends when I have finished" (Miss +Lucretia made it quite clear by her tone that it entirely depended upon +them whether they would be or not), "I understood when I came here that +this was to be a mass meeting to protest against an injustice, and not a +feast of literature and oratory, as Gamaliel Ives seems to suppose." + +She paused, and when the first shock of amazement was past an audible +titter ran through the audience, and Mr. Ives squirmed visibly. + +"Am I right, Mr. Chairman?" asked Miss Lucretia. + +"You are unquestionably right, Miss Penniman," answered the chairman, +rising, "unquestionably." + +"Then I will proceed," said Miss Lucretia. "I wrote the Hymn to +Coniston' many years ago, when I was younger, and yet it is true that I +have always remembered Brampton with kindly feelings. The friends of our +youth are dear to us. We look indulgently upon their failings, even as +they do on ours. I have scanned the faces here in the hall to-night, and +there are some that have not changed beyond recognition in thirty years. +Ezra Graves I remember, and it is a pleasure to see him in that chair." +(Mr. Graves inclined his head, reverently. None knew how the inner man +exulted.) "But there was one who was often in Brampton in those days," +Miss Lucretia continued, "whom we all loved and with whom we found no +fault, and I confess that when I have thought of Brampton I have oftenest +thought of her. Her name, said Miss Lucretia, her hand now in the +reticule, "her name was Cynthia Ware." + +There was a decided stir among the audience, and many leaned forward to +catch every word. + +"Even old people may have an ideal," said Miss Lucretia, "and you will +forgive me for speaking of mine. Where should I speak of it, if not in +this village, among those who knew her and among their children? Cynthia +Ware, although she was younger than I, has been my ideal, and is still. +She was the daughter of the Rev. Samuel Ware of Coniston, and a +descendant of Captain Timothy Prescott, whom General Stark called 'Honest +Tim.' She was, to me, all that a woman should be, in intellect, in her +scorn of all that is ignoble and false, and in her loyalty to her +friends." Here the handkerchief came out of the reticule. "She went to +Boston to teach school, and some time afterward I was offered a position +in New York, and I never saw her again. But she married in Boston a man +of learning and literary attainments, though his health was feeble and he +was poor, William Wetherell." (Another stir.) "Mr. Wetherell was a +gentleman--Cynthia Ware could have married no other--and he came of good +and honorable people in Portsmouth. Very recently I read a collection of +letters which he wrote to the Newcastle Guardian, which some of you may +know. I did not trust my own judgment as to those letters, but I took +them to an author whose name is known wherever English is spoken, but +which I will not mention. And the author expressed it as his opinion, in +writing to me, that William Wetherell was undoubtedly a genius of a high +order, and that he would have been so recognized if life had given him a +chance. Mr. Wetherell, after his wife died, was taken in a dying +condition to Coniston, where he was forced, in order to earn his living, +to become the storekeeper there. But he took his books with him, and +found time to write the letters of which I have spoken, and to give his +daughter an early education such as few girls have. + +"My friends, I am rejoiced to see that the spirit of justice and the +sense of right are as strong in Brampton as they used to be--strong +enough to fill this town hall to overflowing because a teacher has been +wrongly--yes, and iniquitously--dismissed from the lower school." (Here +there was a considerable stir, and many wondered whether Miss Lucretia +was aware of the irony in her words.) "I say wrongly and iniquitously, +because I have had the opportunity in Boston this winter of learning to +know and love that teacher. I am not given to exaggeration, my friends, +and when I tell you that I know her, that her character is as high and +pure as her mother's, I can say no more. I am here to tell you this to- +night because I do not believe you know her as I do. During the seventy +years I have lived I have grown to have but little faith in outward +demonstration, to believe in deeds and attainments rather than +expressions. And as for her fitness to teach, I believe that even the +prudential committee could find no fault with that." (I wonder whether +Mr. Dodd was in the back of the hall.) "I can find no fault with it. I +am constantly called upon to recommend teachers, and I tell you I should +have no hesitation in sending Cynthia Wetherell to a high school, young +as she is." + +"And now, my friends, why was she dismissed? I have heard the facts, +though not from her. Cynthia Wetherell does not know that I have come to +Brampton, unless somebody has told her, and did not know that I was +coming. I have heard the facts, and I find it difficult to believe that +so great a wrong could be attempted against a woman, and if the name of +Cynthia Wetherell had meant no more to me than the letters in it I should +have travelled twice as far as Brampton, old as I am, to do my utmost to +right that wrong. I give you my word of honor that I have never been so +indignant in my life. I do not come here to stir up enmities among you, +and I will mention no more names. I prefer to believe that the +prudential committee of this district has made a mistake, the gravity of +which they must now realize, and that they will reinstate Cynthia +Wetherell to-morrow. And if they should not of their own free will, I +have only to look around this meeting to be convinced that they will be +compelled to. Compelled to, my friends, by the sense of justice and the +righteous indignation of the citizens of Brampton." + +Miss Lucretia sat down, her strong face alight with the spirit that was +in her. Not the least of the compelling forces in this world is +righteous anger, and when it is exercised by a man or a woman whose life +has been a continual warfare against the pests of wrong, it is well-nigh +irresistible. While you could count five seconds the audience sat +silent, and then began such tumult and applause as had never been seen in +Brampton--all started, so it is said, by an old soldier in the front row +with his stick. Isaac D. Worthington, sitting alone in the library of +his mansion, heard it, and had no need to send for Mr. Flint to ask what +it was, or who it was had fired the Third Estate. And Mr. Dodd heard it. +He may have been in the hall, but now he sat at home, seeing visions of +the lantern, and he would have fled to the palace had he thought to get +any sympathy from his sovereign. No, Mr. Dodd did not hold the Bastille +or even fight for it. Another and a better man gave up the keys, for +heroes are sometimes hidden away in meek and retiring people who wear +spectacles and have a stoop to their shoulders. Long before the +excitement died away a dozen men were on their feet shouting at the +chairman, and among them was the tall, stooping man with spectacles. He +did not shout, but Judge Graves saw him and made up his mind that this +was the man to speak. The chairman raised his hand and rapped with his +gavel, and at length he had obtained silence. + +"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "I am going to recognize Mr. Hill of the +prudential committee, and ask him to step up on the platform." + +There fell another silence, as absolute as the first, when Mr. Hill +walked down the aisle and climbed the steps. Indeed, people were +stupefied, for the feed dealer was a man who had never opened his mouth +in town-meeting; who had never taken an initiative of any kind; who had +allowed other men to take advantage of him, and had never resented it. +And now he was going to speak. Would he defend the prudential committee, +or would he declare for the teacher? Either course, in Mr. Hill's case, +required courage, and he had never been credited with any. If Mr. Hill +was going to speak at all, he was going to straddle. + +He reached the platform, bowed irresolutely to the chairman, and then +stood awkwardly with one knee bent, peering at his audience over his +glasses. He began without any address whatever. + +"I want to say," he began in a low voice, "that I had no intention of +coming to this meeting. And I am going to confess--I am going to confess +that I was afraid to come." He raised his voice a little defiantly a the +words, and paused. One could almost hear the people breathing. "I was +afraid to come for fear that I should do the very thing I am going to do +now. And yet I was impelled to come. I want to say that my conscience +has not been clear since, as a member of the prudential committee, I gave +my consent to the dismissal of Miss Wetherell. I know that I was +influenced by personal and selfish considerations which should have had +no weight. And after listening to Miss Penniman I take this opportunity +to declare, of my own free will, that I will add my vote to that of Judge +Graves to reinstate Miss Wetherell." + +Mr. Hill bowed slightly, and was about to descend the steps when the +chairman, throwing parliamentary dignity to the winds, arose and seized +the feed dealer's hand. And the people in the hall almost as one man +sprang to their feet and cheered, and some--Ephraim Prescott among these- +-even waved their hats and shouted Mr. Hill's name. A New England +audience does not frequently forget itself, but there were few present +who did not understand the heroism of the man's confession, who were not +carried away by the simple and dramatic dignity of it. He had no need to +mention Mr. Worthington's name, or specify the nature of his obligations +to that gentleman. In that hour Jonathan Hill rose high in the respect +of Brampton, and some pressed into the aisle to congratulate him on his +way back to his seat. Not a few were grateful to him for another reason. +He had relieved the meeting of the necessity of taking any further +action: of putting their names, for instance, in their enthusiasm to a +paper which the first citizen might see. + +Judge Graves, whose sense of a climax was acute, rapped for order. + +"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, in a voice not wholly free from emotion, +"you will all wish to pay your respects to the famous lady, who is with +us. I see that the Rev. Mr. Sweet is present, and I suggest that we +adjourn, after he has favored us with a prayer." + +As the minister came forward, Deacon Hartington dropped his head and +began to flutter his eyelids. The Rev. Mr. Sweet prayed, and so was +brought to an end the most exciting meeting ever held in Brampton town +hall. + +But Miss Lucretia did not like being called "a famous lady." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +While Miss Lucretia was standing, unwillingly enough, listening to the +speeches that were poured into her ear by various members of the +audience, receiving the incense and myrrh to which so great a celebrity +was entitled, the old soldier hobbled away to his little house as fast as +his three legs would carry him. Only one event in his life had eclipsed +this in happiness--the interview in front of the White House. He rapped +on the window with his stick, thereby frightening Cynthia half out of her +wits as she sat musing sorrowfully by the fire. + +"Cousin Ephraim," she said, taking off his corded hat, "what in the +world's the matter with you?" + +"You're a schoolmarm again, Cynthy." + +"Do you mean to say?" + +"Miss Lucretia Penniman done it." + +"Miss Lucretia Penniman!" Cynthia began to think his rheumatism was +driving him out of his mind. + +"You bet. 'Long toward the openin' of the engagement there wahn't +scarcely anybody thar but me, and they was a-goin'. But they come fast +enough when they l'arned she was in town, and she blew 'em up higher'n +the Petersburg crater. Great Tecumseh, there's a woman! Next to General +Grant, I'd sooner shake her hand than anybody's livin'." + +"Do you mean to say that Miss Lucretia is in Brampton and spoke at the +mass meeting?" + +"Spoke!" exclaimed Ephraim, "callate she did--some. Tore 'em all up. +They'd a hung Isaac D. Worthington or Levi Dodd if they'd a had 'em +thar." + +Cynthia, striving to be calm herself, got him into a chair and took his +stick and straightened out his leg, and then Ephraim told her the story, +and it lost no dramatic effect in his telling. He would have talked all +night. But at length the sound of wheels was heard in the street, +Cynthia flew to the door, and a familiar voice came out of the darkness. + +"You need not wait, Gamaliel. No, thank you, I think I will stay at the +hotel." + +Gamaliel was still protesting when Miss Lucretia came in and seized +Cynthia in her arms, and the door was closed behind her. + +"Oh, Miss Lucretia, why did you come?" said Cynthia, "if I had known you +would do such a thing, I should never have written that letter. I have +been sorry to-day that I did write it, and now I'm sorrier than ever." + +"Aren't you glad to see me?" demanded Miss Lucretia. + +"Miss Lucretia!" + +"What are friends for?" asked Miss Lucretia, patting her hand. "If you +had known how I wished to see you, Cynthia, and I thought a little trip +would be good for such a provincial Bostonian as I am. Dear, dear, I +remember this house. It used to belong to Gabriel Post in my time, and +right across from it was the Social Library, where I have spent so many +pleasant hours with your mother. And this is Ephraim Prescott. I +thought it was, when I saw him sitting in the front row, and I think he +must have been very lonesome there at one time." + +"Yes, ma'am," said Ephraim, giving her his gnarled fingers; "I was just +sayin' to Cynthy that I'd ruther shake your hand than anybody's livin' +exceptin' General Grant." + +"And I'd rather shake yours than the General's," said Miss Lucretia, for +the Woman's Hour had taken the opposition side in a certain recent public +question concerning women. + +"If you'd a fit with him, you wouldn't say that, Miss Lucrety." + +"I haven't a word to say against his fighting qualities," she replied. + +"Guess the General might say the same of you," said Ephraim. "If you'd a +b'en a man, I callate you'd a come out of the war with two stars on your +shoulder. Godfrey, Miss Lucrety, you'd ought to've b'en a man." + +"A man!" cried Miss Lucretia, "and 'stars on my shoulder'! I think this +kind of talk has gone far enough, Ephraim Prescott." + +"Cousin Eph," said Cynthia, laughing, "you're no match for Miss Lucretia, +and it's long past your bedtime." + +"A man!" repeated Miss Lucretia, after he had retired, and after Cynthia +had tried to express her gratitude and had been silenced. They sat side +by side in front of the chimney. "I suppose he meant that as a +compliment. I never yet saw the man I couldn't back down, and I haven't +any patience with a woman who gives in to them." Miss Lucretia poked +vigorously a log which had fallen down, as though that were a man, too, +and she was putting him back in his proper place. + +Cynthia, strange to say, did not reply to this remark. + +"Cynthia," said Miss Lucretia, abruptly, "you don't mean to say that you +are in love!" + +Cynthia drew a long breath, and grew as red as the embers. + +"Miss Lucretia!" she exclaimed, in astonishment and dismay. + +"Well," Miss Lucretia said, "I should have thought you could have gotten +along, for a while at least, without anything of that kind. My dear," +she said leaning toward Cynthia, "who is he?" + +Cynthia turned away. She found it very hard to speak of her troubles, +even to Miss Lucretia, and she would have kept this secret even from +Jethro, had it been possible. + +"You must let him know his place," said Miss Lucretia, "and I hope he is +in some degree worthy of you." + +"I do not intend to marry him," said Cynthia, with head still turned +away. + +It was now Miss Lucretia who was silent. + +"I came near getting married once," she said presently, with +characteristic abruptness. + +"You!" cried Cynthia, looking around in amazement. + +"You see, I am franker than you, my dear--though I never told any one +else. I believe you can keep a secret." + +"Of course I can. Who--was it anyone in Brampton, Miss Lucretia?" The +question was out before Cynthia realized its import. She was turning the +tables with a vengeance. + +"It was Ezra Graves," said Miss Lucretia. + +"Ezra Graves!" And then Cynthia pressed Miss Lucretia's hand in silence, +thinking how strange it was that both of them should have been her +champions that evening. + +Miss Lucretia poked the fire again. + +"It was shortly after that, when I went to Boston, that I wrote the 'Hymn +to Coniston.' I suppose we must all be fools once or twice, or we should +not be human." + +"And--weren't you ever--sorry?" asked Cynthia. + +Again there was a silence. + +"I could not have done the work I have had to do in the world if I had +married. But I have often wondered whether that work was worth the +while. Such a feeling must come over all workers, occasionally. Yes," +said Miss Lucretia, "there have been times when I have been sorry, my +dear, though I have never confessed it to another soul. I am telling you +this for your own good--not mine. If you have the love of a good man, +Cynthia, be careful what you do with it." + +The tears had come into Cynthia's eyes. + +"I should have told you, Miss Lucretia," she faltered. "If I could have +married him, it would have been easier." + +"Why can't you marry him?" demanded Miss Lucretia, sharply--to hide her +own emotion. + +"His name," said Cynthia, "is Bob Worthington:" + +"Isaac Worthington's son?" + +"Yes." + +Another silence, Miss Lucretia being utterly unable to say anything for a +space. + +"Is he a good man?" + +Cynthia was on the point of indignant-protest, but she stopped herself in +time. + +"I will tell you what he has done," she answered, "and then you shall +judge for yourself." + +And she told Miss Lucretia, simply, all that Bob had done, and all that +she herself had done. + +"He is like his mother, Sarah Hollingsworth; I knew her well," said Miss +Lucretia. "If Isaac Worthington were a man, he would be down on his +knees begging you to marry his son. He tried hard enough to marry your +own mother." + +"My mother!" exclaimed Cynthia, who had never believed that rumor. + +"Yes," said Miss Lucretia, "and you may thank your stars he didn't +succeed. I mistrusted him when he was a young man, and now I know that +he hasn't changed. He is a coward and a hypocrite." + +Cynthia could not deny this. + +"And yet," she said, after a moment's silence, "I am sure you will say +that I have been right. My own conscience tells me that it is wrong to +deprive Bob of his inheritance, and to separate him from his father, +whatever his father--may be." + +"We shall see what happens in five years," said Miss Lucretia. + +"Five years!" said Cynthia, in spite of herself. + +"Jacob served seven for Rachel," answered Miss Lucretia; "that period is +scarcely too short to test a man, and you are both young." + +"No," said Cynthia, "I cannot marry him, Miss Lucretia. The world would +accuse me of design, and I feel that I should not be happy. I am sure +that he would never reproach me, even if things went wrong, but--the day +might come when--when he would wish that it had been otherwise." + +Miss Lucretia kissed her. + +You are very young, my dear," she repeated, "and none of us may say what +changes time may bring forth. And now I must go." + +Cynthia insisted upon walking with her friend down the street to the +hotel--an undertaking that was without danger in Brampton. And it was +only a step, after all. A late moon floated in the sky, throwing in +relief the shadow of the Worthington mansion against the white patches of +snow. A light was still burning in the library. + +The next morning after breakfast Miss Lucretia appeared at the little +house, and informed Cynthia that she would walk to school with her. + +"But I have not yet been notified by the Committee," said Cynthia. There +was a knock at the door, and in walked Judge Ezra Graves. Miss Lucretia +may have blushed, but it is certain that Cynthia did. Never had she seen +the judge so spick and span, and he wore the broadcloth coat he usually +reserved for Sundays. He paused at the threshold, with his hand on his +Adam's apple. + +"Good morning, ladies," he said, and looked shyly at Miss Lucretia and +cleared his throat, and spoke with the elaborate decorum he used on +occasions, "Miss Penniman, I wish to thank you again for your noble +action of last evening." + +"Don't 'Miss Penniman' me, Ezra Graves," retorted Miss Lucretia; "the +only noble action I know of was poor Jonathan Hill's--unless it was +paying for the gas." + +This was the way in which Miss Lucretia treated her lover after thirty +years! Cynthia thought of what the lady had said to her a few hours +since, by this very fire, and began to believe she must have dreamed it. +Fires look very differently at night--and sometimes burn brighter then. +The judge parted his coat tails, and seated himself on the wooden edge of +a cane-bottomed chair. + +"Lucretia," he said, "you haven't changed." + +"You have, Ezra," she replied, looking at the Adam's apple. + +"I'm an old man," said Ezra Graves. + +Cynthia could not help thinking that he was a very different man, in Miss +Lucretia's presence, than when at the head of the prudential committee. + +"Ezra," said Miss Lucretia, "for a man you do very well." + +The judge smiled. + +"Thank you, Lucretia," said he. He seemed to appreciate the full extent +of the compliment. + +"Judge Graves," said Cynthia, "I can tell you how good you are, at least, +and thank you for your great kindness to me, which I shall never forget." + +She took his withered hands from his knees and pressed them. He returned +the pressure, and then searched his coat tails, found a handkerchief, and +blew his nose violently. + +"I merely did my duty, Miss Wetherell," he said. "I would not wilfully +submit to a wrong." + +"You called me Cynthia yesterday." + +"So I did," he answered, "so I did." Then he looked at Miss Lucretia. + +"Ezra," said that lady, smiling a little, "I don't believe you have +changed, after all." + +What she meant by that nobody knows. + +"I had thought, Cynthia," said the judge, "that it might be more +comfortable for you to have me go to the school with you. That is the +reason for my early call." + +"Judge Graves, I do appreciate your kindness," said Cynthia; "I hope you +won't think I'm rude if I say I'd rather go alone." + +"On the contrary, my dear," replied the judge, "I think I can understand +and esteem your feeling in the matter, and it shall be as you wish." + +"Then I think I had better be going," said Cynthia. The judge rose in +alarm at the words, but she put her hand on his shoulder. "Won't you sit +down and stay," she begged, "you haven't seen Miss Lucretia for how many +years,--thirty, isn't it?" + +Again he glanced at Miss Lucretia, uncertainly. "Sit down, Ezra," she +commanded, "and for goodness' sake don't be afraid of the cane bottom. +You won't go through it. I should like to talk to you, and most of the +gossips of our day are dead. I shall stay in Brampton to-day, Cynthia, +and eat supper with you here this evening." + +Cynthia, as she went out of the door, wondered what they would talk +about. Then she turned toward the school. It was not the March wind +that burned her cheeks; as she thought of the mass meeting the night +before, which was all about her, she wished she might go to school that +morning through the woods and pasture lots rather than down Brampton +Street. What--what would Bob say when he heard of the meeting? Would he +come again to Brampton? If he did, she would run away to Boston with +Miss Lucretia. Every day it had been a trial to pass the Worthington +house, but she could not cross the wide street to avoid it. She hurried +a little, unconsciously, when she came to it, for there was Mr. +Worthington on the steps talking to Mr. Flint. How he must hate her now, +Cynthia reflected! He did not so much as look up when she passed. + +The other citizens whom she met made up for Mr. Worthington's coldness, +and gave her a hearty greeting, and some stopped to offer their +congratulations. Cynthia did not pause to philosophize: she was learning +to accept the world as it was, and hurried swiftly on to the little +schoolhouse. The children saw her coming, and ran to meet her and +escorted her triumphantly in at the door. Of their welcome she could be +sure. Thus she became again teacher of the lower school. + +How the judge and Miss Lucretia got along that morning, Cynthia never +knew. Miss Lucretia spent the day in her old home, submitting to hero- +worship, and attended an evening party in her honor at Mr. Gamaliel +Ives's house--a mansion not so large as the first citizen's, though it +had two bay-windows and was not altogether unimposing. The first +citizen, needless to say, was not there, but the rest of the elite +attended. Mr. Ives will tell you all about the entertainment if you go +to Brampton, but the real reason Miss Lucretia consented to go was to +please Lucy Baird, who was Gamaliel's wife, and to chat with certain old +friends whom she had not seen. The next morning she called at the school +to bid Cynthia good-by, and to whisper something in her ear which made +her very red before all the scholars. She shook her head when Miss +Lucretia said it, for it had to do with an incident in the 29th chapter +of Genesis. + +While Jonathan Hill was being made a hero of in the little two-by-four +office of the feed store the morning after the mass meeting (though +nobody offered to take over his mortgage), Mr. Dodd was complaining to +his wife of shooting pains, and "callated" he would stay at home that +day. + +"Shootin' fiddlesticks!" said Mrs. Dodd. "Get along down to the store +and face the music, Levi Dodd. You'd have had shootin' pains if you'd a +went to the meetin'." + +"I might stop by at Mr. Worthington's house and explain how powerless I +was--" + +"For goodness' sake git out, Levi. I guess he knows how powerless you +are with your shootin' pains. If you only could forget Isaac D. +Worthington for three minutes, you wouldn't have 'em." + +Mr. Dodd's two clerks saw him enter the store by the back door and he was +very much interested in the new ploughs which were piled up in crates +outside of it. Then he disappeared into his office and shut the door, +and supposedly became very much absorbed in book-keeping. If any one +called, he was out--any one. Plenty of people did call, but he was not +disturbed--until ten o'clock. Mr. Dodd had a very sensitive ear, and he +could often recognize a man by his step, and this man he recognized. + +"Where's Mr. Dodd?" demanded the owner of the step, indignantly. + +"He's out, Mr. Worthington. Anything I can do for you, Mr. Worthington?" + +"You can tell him to come up to my house the moment he comes in." + +Unfortunately Mr. Dodd in the office had got into a strained position. +He found it necessary to move a little; the day-book fell heavily to the +floor, and the perspiration popped out all over his forehead. Come out, +Levi Dodd. The Bastille is taken, but there are other fortresses still +in the royal hands where you may be confined. + +"Who's in the office?" + +"I don't know, sir," answered the clerk, winking at his companion, who +was sorting nails. + +In three strides the great man had his hand on the office door and had +flung it open, disclosing the culprit cowering over the day-book on the +floor. + +"Mr. Dodd," cried the first citizen, "what do you mean by--?" + +Some natures, when terrified, are struck dumb. Mr. Dodd's was the kind +which bursts into speech. + +"I couldn't help it, Mr. Worthington," he cried, "they would have it. +I don't know what got into 'em. They lost their senses, Mr. Worthington, +plumb lost their senses. If you'd a b'en there, you might have brought +'em to. I tried to git the floor, but Ezry Graves--" + +"Confound Ezra Graves, and wait till I have done, can't you," interrupted +the first citizen, angrily. "What do you mean by putting a bath-tub into +my house with the tin loose, so that I cut my leg on it?" + +Mr. Dodd nearly fainted from sheer relief. + +"I'll put a new one in to-day, right now," he gasped. + +"See that you do," said the first citizen, "and if I lose my leg, I'll +sue you for a hundred thousand dollars." + +"I was a-goin' to explain about them losin' their heads at the mass +meetin'--" + +"Damn their heads!" said the first citizen. "And yours, too," he may +have added under his breath as he stalked out. It was not worth a swing +of the executioner's axe in these times of war. News had arrived from +the state capital that morning of which Mr. Dodd knew nothing. Certain +feudal chiefs from the North Country, of whose allegiance Mr. Worthington +had felt sure, had obeyed the summons of their old sovereign, Jethro +Bass, and had come South to hold a conclave under him at the Pelican. +Those chiefs of the North Country, with their clans behind them as one +man, what a power they were in the state! What magnificent qualities +they had, in battle or strategy, and how cunning and shrewd was their +generalship! Year after year they came down from their mountains and +fought shoulder to shoulder, and year after year they carried back the +lion's share of the spoils between them. The great South, as a whole, +was powerless to resist them, for there could be no lasting alliance +between Harwich and Brampton and Newcastle and Gosport. Now their king +had come back, and the North Country men were rallying again to his +standard. No wonder that Levi Dodd's head, poor thing that it was, was +safe for a while. + +"Organize what you have left, and be quick about it," said Mr. Flint, +when the news had come, and they sat in the library planning a new +campaign in the face of this evident defection. There was no time to cry +over spilt milk or reinstated school-teachers. The messages flew far and +wide to the manufacturing towns to range their guilds into line for the +railroads. The seneschal wrote the messages, and sent the summons to the +sleek men of the cities, and let it be known that the coffers were full +and not too tightly sealed, that the faithful should not lack for the +sinews of war. Mr. Flint found time, too, to write some carefully worded +but nevertheless convincing articles for the Newcastle Guardian, very +damaging to certain commanders who had proved unfaithful. + +"Flint," said Mr. Worthington, when they had worked far into the night, +"if Bass beats us, I'm a crippled man." + +"And if you postpone the fight now that you have begun it? What then?" + +The answer, Mr. Worthington knew, was the same either way. He did not +repeat it. He went to his bed, but not to sleep for many hours, and when +he came down to his breakfast in the morning, he was in no mood to read +the letter from Cambridge which Mrs. Holden had put on his plate. But he +did read it, with what anger and bitterness may be imagined. There was +the ultimatum,--respectful, even affectionate, but firm. "I know that +you will, in all probability, disinherit me as you say, and I tell you +honestly that I regret the necessity of quarrelling with you more than I +do the money. I do not pretend to say that I despise money, and I like +the things that it buys, but the woman I love is more to me than all that +you have." + +Mr. Worthington laid the letter down, and there came irresistibly to his +mind something that his wife had said to him before she died, shortly +after they had moved into the mansion. "Dudley, how happy we used to be +together before we were rich!" Money had not been everything to Sarah +Worthington, either. But now no tender wave of feeling swept over him as +he recalled those words. He was thinking of what weapon he had to +prevent the marriage beyond that which was now useless--disinheritance. +He would disinherit Bob, and that very day. He would punish his son to +the utmost of his power for marrying the ward of Jethro Bass. He +wondered bitterly, in case a certain event occurred, whether he would +have much to alienate. + +When Mr. Flint arrived, fresh as usual in spite of the work he had +accomplished and the cigars he had smoked the night before, Mr. +Worthington still had the letter in his hand, and was pacing his library +floor, and broke into a tirade against his son. + +"After all I have done for him, building up for him a position and a +fortune that is only surpassed by young Duncan's, to treat me in this +way, to drag down the name of Worthington in the mire. I'll never +forgive him. I'll send for Dixon and leave the money for a hospital in +Brampton. Can't you suggest any way out of this, Flint?" + +"No," said Flint, "not now. The only chance you have is to ignore the +thing from now on. He may get tired of her--I've known such things to +happen." + +"When she hears that I've disinherited him, she will get tired of him," +declared Mr. Worthington. + +"Try it and see, if you like," said Flint. + +"Look here, Flint, if the woman has a spark of decent feeling, as you +seem to think, I'll send for her and tell her that she will ruin Robert +if she marries him." Mr. Worthington always spoke of his son as +"Robert." + +"You ought to have thought of that before the mass meeting. Perhaps it +would have done some good then." + +"Because this Penniman woman has stirred people up--is that what you +mean? I don't care anything about that. Money counts in the long run." + +"If money counted with this school-teacher, it would be a simple matter. +I think you'll find it doesn't." + +"I've known you to make some serious mistakes," snapped Mr. Worthington. + +"Then why do you ask for my advice?" + +"I'll send for her, and appeal to her better nature," said Mr. +Worthington, with an unconscious and sublime irony. + +Flint gave no sign that he heard. Mr. Worthington seated himself at his +desk, and after some thought wrote on a piece of note-paper the following +lines: "My dear Miss Wetherell, I should be greatly obliged if you would +find it convenient to call at my house at eight o'clock this evening," +and signed them," Sincerely Yours." He sealed them up in an envelope and +addressed it to Miss Wetherell, at the schoolhouse; and handed it to Mr. +Flint. That gentleman got as far as the door, and then he hesitated and +turned. + +"There is just one way out of this for you, that I can see, Mr. +Worthington," he said. "It's a desperate measure, but it's worth +thinking about." + +"What's that?" + +It took some courage for Mr. Flint, to make the suggestion. "The girl's +a good girl, well educated, and by no means bad looking. Bob might do a +thousand times worse. Give your consent to the marriage, and Jethro Bass +will go back to Coniston." + +It was wisdom such as few lords get from their seneschals, but Isaac D. +Worthington did not so recognize it. His anger rose and took away his +breath as he listened to it. + +"I will never give my consent to it, never--do you hear?--never. Send +that note!" he cried. + +Mr. Flint walked out, sent the note, and returned and took his place +silently at his own table. He was a man of concentration, and he put his +mind on the arguments he was composing to certain political leaders. Mr. +Worthington merely pretended to work as he waited for the answer to come +back. And presently, when it did come back, he tore it open and read it +with an expression not often on his lips. He flung the paper at Mr. +Flint. + +"Read that," he said. + +This is what Mr. Flint read: "Miss Wetherell begs to inform Mr. Isaac D. +Worthington that she can have no communication or intercourse with him +whatsoever." + +Mr. Flint handed it back without a word. His opinion of the school- +teacher had risen mightily, but he did not say so. Mr. Worthington took +the note, too, without a word. Speech was beyond him, and he crushed the +paper as fiercely as he would have liked to have crushed Cynthia, had she +been in his hands. + +One accomplishment which Cynthia had learned at Miss Sadler's school was +to write a letter in the third person, Miss Sadler holding that there +were occasions when it was beneath a lady's dignity to write a direct +note. And Cynthia, sitting at her little desk in the schoolhouse during +her recess, had deemed this one of the occasions. She could not bring +herself to write, "My dear Mr. Worthington." Her anger, when the note +had been handed to her, was for the moment so great that she could not go +on with her classes; but she had controlled it, and compelled Silas to +stand in the entry until recess, when she sat with her pen in her hand +until that happy notion of the third person occurred to her. And after +Silas had gone she sat still; though trembling a little at intervals, +picturing with some satisfaction Mr. Worthington's appearance when he +received her answer. Her instinct told her that he had received his +son's letter, and that he had sent for her to insult her. By sending for +her, indeed, he had insulted her irrevocably, and that is why she +trembled. + +Poor Cynthia! her troubles came thick and fast upon her in those days. +When she reached home, there was the letter which Ephraim had left on the +table addressed in the familiar, upright handwriting, and when Cynthia +saw it, she caught her hand sharply at her breast, as if the pain there +had stopped the beating of her heart. Well it was for Bob's peace of +mind that he could not see her as she read it, and before she had come to +the end there were drops on the sheets where the purple ink had run. How +precious would have been those drops to him! He would never give her up. +No mandate or decree could separate them--nothing but death. And he was +happier now so he told her--than he had been for months: happy in the +thought that he was going out into the world to win bread for her, as +became a man. Even if he had not her to strive for, he saw now that such +was the only course for him. He could not conform. + +It was a manly letter,--how manly Bob himself never knew. But Cynthia +knew, and she wept over it and even pressed it to her. lips--for there +was no one to see. Yes, she loved him as she would not have believed it +possible to love, and she sat through the afternoon reading his words and +repeating them until it seemed that he were there by her side, speaking +them. They came, untrammelled and undefiled, from his heart into hers. + +And now that he had quarrelled with his father for her sake, and was bent +with all the determination of his character upon making his own way in +the world, what was she to do? What was her duty? Not one letter of the +twoscore she had received (so she kept their count from day to day)--not +one had she answered. His faith had indeed been great. But she must +answer this: must write, too, on that subject of her dismissal, lest it +should be wrongly told him. He was rash in his anger, and fearless; this +she knew, and loved him for such qualities as he had. + +She must stay in Brampton and do her work,--so much was clearly her duty, +although she longed to flee from it. And at last she sat down and wrote +to him. Some things are too sacred to be set forth on a printed page, +and this letter is one of those things. Try as she would, she could not +find it in her heart at such a time to destroy his hope,--or her own. +The hope which she would not acknowledge, and the love which she strove +to conceal from him seeped up between the words of her letter like water +through grains of sand. Words, indeed, are but as grains of sand to +conceal strong feelings, and as Cynthia read the letter over she felt +that every line betrayed her, and knew that she could compose no lines +which would not. + +She said nothing of the summons which she had received that morning, or +of her answer; and her account of the matter of the dismissal and +reinstatement was brief and dignified, and contained no mention of Mr. +Worthington's name or agency. It was her duty, too, to rebuke Bob for +the quarrel with his father, to point out the folly of it, and the wrong, +and to urge him as strongly as she could to retract, though she felt that +all this was useless. And then--then came the betrayal of hope. She +could not ask him never to see her again, but she did beseech him for her +sake, and for the sake of that love which he had declared, not to attempt +to see her: not for a year, she wrote, though the word looked to her like +eternity. Her reasons, aside from her own scruples, were so obvious, +while she taught in Brampton, that she felt that he would consent to +banishment--until the summer holidays in July, at least: and then she +would be in Coniston,--and would have had time to decide upon future +steps. A reprieve was all she craved,--a reprieve in which to reflect, +for she was in no condition to reflect now. Of one thing she was sure, +that it would not be right at this time to encourage him although she had +a guilty feeling that the letter had given him encouragement in spite of +all the prohibitions it contained. "If, in the future years," thought +Cynthia, as she sealed the envelope, "he persists in his determination, +what then?" You, Miss Lucretia, of all people in the world, have planted +the seeds with your talk about Genesis! + +The letter was signed "One who will always remain your friend, Cynthia +Wetherell." And she posted it herself. + +When Ephraim came home to supper that evening, he brought the Brampton +Clarion, just out, and in it was an account of Miss Lucretia Penniman's +speech at the mass meeting, and of her visit, and of her career. It was +written in Mr. Page's best vein, and so laudatory was it that we shall +have to spare Miss Lucretia in not repeating it here: yes, and omit the +encomiums, too, on the teacher of the Brampton lower school. Mr. +Worthington was not mentioned, and for this, at least, Cynthia drew along +breath of relief, though Ephraim was of the opinion that the first +citizen should have been scored as he deserved, and held up to the +contempt of his fellow-townsmen. The dismissal of the teacher, indeed, +was put down to a regrettable misconception on the part of "one of the +prudential committee," who had confessed his mistake in "a manly and +altogether praiseworthy speech." The article was as near the truth, +perhaps, as the Clarions may come on such matters--which is not very +near. Cynthia would have been better pleased if Mr. Page had spared his +readers the recital of her qualities, and she did not in the least +recognize the paragon whom Miss Lucretia had befriended and defended. +She was thankful that Mr. Page did pot state that the celebrity had come +up from Boston on her account. Miss Penniman had been "actuated by a +sudden desire to see once more the beauties of her old home, to look into +the faces of the old friends who had followed her career with such +pardonable pride." The speech of the president of the literary club, you +may be sure, was printed in full, for Mr. Ives himself had taken the +trouble to write it out for the editor--by request, of course. + +Cynthia turned over the sheet, and read many interesting items: one +concerning the beauty and fashion and intellect which attended the party +at Mr. Gamaliel Ives's; in the Clovelly notes she saw that Miss Judy +Hatch, of Coniston, was visiting relatives there; she learned the output +of the Worthington Mills for the past week. Cynthia was about to fold up +the paper and send it to Miss Lucretia, whom she thought it would amuse, +when her eyes were arrested by the sight of a familiar name. + + "Jethro Bass come to life again. + From the State Tribune." + +That was the heading. "One of the greatest political surprises in many +years was the arrival in the capital on Wednesday of Judge Bass, whom it +was thought, had permanently retired from politics. This, at least, +seems to have been the confident belief of a faction in the state who +have at heart the consolidation of certain lines of railroads. Judge +Bass was found by a Tribune reporter in the familiar Throne Room at the +Pelican, but, as usual, he could not be induced to talk for publication. +He was in conference throughout the afternoon with several well-known +leaders from the North Country. The return of Jethro Bass to activity +seriously complicates the railroad situation, and many prominent +politicians are freely predicting to-night that, in spite of the town- +meeting returns, the proposed bill for consolidation will not go through. +Judge Bass is a man of such remarkable personality that he has regained +at a stroke much of the influence that he lost by the sudden and +unaccountable retirement which electrified the state some months since. +His reappearance, the news of which was the one topic in all political +centres yesterday, is equally unaccountable. It is hinted that some +action on the part of Isaac D. Worthington has brought Jethro Bass to +life. They are known to be bitter enemies, and it is said that Jethro +Bass has but one object in returning to the field--to crush the president +of the Truro Railroad. Another theory is that the railroads and +interests opposed to the consolidation have induced Judge Bass to take +charge of their fight for them. All indications point to the fiercest +struggle the state has ever seen in June, when the Legislature meets. +The Tribune, whose sentiments are well known to be opposed to the +iniquity of consolidation, extends a hearty welcome to the judge. No +state, we believe, can claim a party leader of a higher order of ability +than Jethro Bass." + +Cynthia dropped the paper in her lap, and sat very still. This, then, +was what happened when Jethro had heard of her dismissal--he had left +Coniston without writing her a word and passed through Brampton without +seeing her. He had gone back to that life which he had abandoned for her +sake; the temptation had been too strong, the desire for vengeance too +great. He had not dared to see her. And yet the love for her which had +been strong enough to make him renounce the homage of men, and even incur +their ridicule, had incited him to this very act of vengeance. + +What should she do now, indeed? Had those peaceful and happy Saturdays +and Sundays in Coniston passed away forever? Should she follow him to +the capital and appeal to him? Ah no, she felt that were a useless pain +to them both. She believed, now, that he had gone away from her for all +time, that the veil of limitless space was set between, them. Silently +she arose,--so silently that Ephraim, dozing by the fire, did not awake. +She went into her own room and wept, and after many hours fell into a +dreamless sleep of sheer exhaustion. + +The days passed, and the weeks; the snow ran from the brown fields, and +melted at length even in the moist crotches under the hemlocks of the +northern slopes; the robin and bluebird came, the hillsides were mottled +with exquisite shades of green, and the scent of fruit blossom and balm +of Gilead was in the air. June came as a maiden and grew into womanhood. +But Jethro Bass did not return to Coniston. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +The legends which surround the famous war which we are about to touch +upon are as dim as those of Troy or Tuscany. Decorous chronicles and +biographies and monographs and eulogies exist, bound in leather and +stamped in gold, each lauding its own hero: chronicles written in really +beautiful language, and high-minded and noble, out of which the heroes +come unstained. Horatius holds the bridge, and not a dent in his armor; +and swims the Tiber without getting wet or muddy. Castor and Pollux +fight in the front rank at Lake Regillus, in the midst of all that gore +and slaughter, and emerge all white and pure at the end of the day--but +they are gods. + +Out of the classic wars to which we have referred sprang the great Roman +Republic and Empire, and legend runs into authentic and written history. +Just so, parva componere magnis, out of the cloud-wrapped conflicts of +the five railroads of which our own Gaul is composed, emerged one +imperial railroad, authentically and legally written down on the statute +books, for all men to see. We cannot go behind that statute except to +collect the legends and write homilies about the heroes who held the +bridges. + +If we were not in mortal terror of the imperial power, and a little +fearful, too, of tiring our readers, we would write out all the legends +we have collected of this first fight for consolidation, and show the +blood, too. + +In the statute books of a certain state may be found a number of laws +setting forth the various things that a railroad or railroads may do, and +on the margin of these pages is invariably printed a date, that being the +particular year in which these laws were passed. By a singular +coincidence it is the very year at which we have now arrived in our +story. We do not intend to give a map of the state, or discuss the +merits or demerits of the consolidation of the Central and the +Northwestern and the Truro railroads. Such discussions are not the +province of a novelist, and may all be found in the files of the Tribune +at the State Library. There were, likewise, decisions without number +handed down by the various courts before and after that celebrated +session,--opinions on the validity of leases, on the extension of +railroads, on the rights of individual stockholders--all dry reading +enough. + +At the risk of being picked to pieces by the corporation lawyers who may +read these pages, we shall attempt to state the situation and with all +modesty and impartiality--for we, at least, hold no brief. When Mr. +Isaac D. Worthington obtained that extension of the Truro Railroad (which +we have read about from the somewhat verdant point of view of William +Wetherell), that railroad then formed a connection with another road +which ran northward from Harwich through another state, and with which we +have nothing to do. Having previously purchased a line to the southward +from the capital, Mr. Worthington's railroad was in a position to compete +with Mr. Duncan's (the "Central") for Canadian traffic, and also to cut +into the profits of the "Northwestern," Mr. Lovejoy's road. In brief, +the Truro Railroad found itself very advantageously placed, as Mr. +Worthington and Mr. Flint had foreseen. There followed a period of +bickering and recrimination, of attempts of the other two railroads to +secure representation in the Truro directorate, of suits and injunctions +and appeals to the Legislature and I know not what else--in all of which +affairs Mr. Bijah Bixby and other gentlemen we could name found both +pleasure and remuneration. + +Oh, that those halcyon days of the little wars would come again, when a +captain could ride out almost any time at the held of his band of +mercenaries and see honest fighting and divide honest spoils! There was +much knocking about of men and horses, but very little bloodshed, so we +are told. Mr. Bixby will sit on the sunny side of his barns in Clovelly +and tell you stories of that golden period with tears in his eyes, when +he went to conventions with a pocketful of proxies from the river towns, +and controlled in the greatest legislative year of all a "block" which +included the President of the Senate, for which he got the fabulous sum +of --. He will tell you, but I won't. Mr. Bixby's occupation is gone +now. We have changed all that, and we are ruled from imperial Rome. If +you don't do right, they cut off your (political) head, and it is of no +use to run away, because there is no one to run to. + +It was Isaac D. Worthington--or shall we say Mr. Flint?--who was +responsible for this pernicious change for the worse, who conceived the +notion of leasing for the Truro the Central and the Northwestern,--thus +making one railroad out of the three. If such a gigantic undertaking +could be got through, Mr. Worthington very rightly deemed that the other +railroads of the state would eventually fall like ripe fruit into their +caps--owning the ground under the tree, as they would. A movement, which +we need not go unto, was first made upon the courts, and for a while +adverse decisions came down like summer rain. A genius by the name of +Jethro Bass had for many years presided (in the room of the governor and +council at the State House) at the political birth of justices of the +Supreme Court. None of them actually wore livery, but we have seen one +of them--along time ago--in a horse blanket. None of them were favorable +to the plans of Mr. Worthington and Mr. Duncan. + +We have listened to the firing on the skirmish lines for a long time, and +now the real battle is at hand. It is June, and the Legislature is +meeting, and Bijah Bixby has come down to the capital at the head of his +regiment of mercenaries, of which Mr. Sutton is the honorary colonel; the +clans are here from the north, well quartered and well fed; the Throne +Room, within the sacred precincts of which we have been before, is +occupied. But there is another headquarters now, too, in the Pelican +House--a Railroad Room; larger than the Throne Room, with a bath-room +leading out of it. Another old friend of ours, Judge Abner Parkinson of +Harwich, he who gave the sardonic laugh when Sam Price applied for the +post of road agent, may often be seen in that Railroad Room from now on. +The fact is that the judge is about to become famous far beyond the +confines of Harwich; for he, and none other, is the author of the +Consolidation Bill itself. + +Mr. Flint is the generalissimo of the allied railroads, and sits in his +headquarters early and late, going over the details of the campaign with +his lieutenants; scanning the clauses of the bill with Judge Parkinson +for the last time, and giving orders to the captains of mercenaries as to +the disposition of their forces; writing out passes for the deserving and +the true. For these latter, also, and for the wavering there is a claw- +hammer on the marble-topped mantel wielded by Mr. Bijah Bixby, pro tem +chief of staff--or of the hammer, for he is self-appointed and very +useful. He opens the mysterious packing cases which come up to the +Railroad Room thrice a week, and there is water to be had in the bath- +room--and glasses. Mr. Bixby also finds time to do some of the scouting +about the rotunda and lobbies, for which he is justly celebrated, and to +drill his regiment every day. The Honorable Heth Sutton, M.C.,--who held +the bridge in the Woodchuck Session,--is there also, sitting in a corner, +swelled with importance, smoking big Florizel cigars which come from-- +somewhere. There are, indeed, many great and battle-scarred veterans who +congregate in that room--too numerous and great to mention; and +saunterers in the Capitol Park opposite know when a council of war is +being held by the volumes of smoke which pour out of the window, just as +the Romans are made cognizant by the smoking of a chimney of when another +notable event takes place. + +Who, then, are left to frequent the Throne Room? Is that ancient seat of +power deserted, and does Jethro Bass sit there alone behind the curtains, +in his bitterness, thinking of other bright June days that are gone? + +Of all those who had been amazed when Jethro Bass suddenly emerged from +his retirement and appeared in the capital some months before, none were +more thunderstruck than certain gentlemen who had been to Coniston +repeatedly, but in vain, to urge him to make this very fight. The most +important of these had been Mr. Balch, president of the "Down East" Road, +and the representatives of two railroads of another state. They had at +last offered Jethro fabulous sums to take charge of their armies in the +field--sums, at least, that would seem fabulous to many people, and had +seemed so to them. When they heard that the lion had roused and shaken +himself and had unaccountably come forth of his own accord, they hastened +to the state capital to renew their offers. Another shock, but of a +different kind, was in store for them. Mr. Balch had not actually driven +the pack-mules, laden with treasure, to the door of the Pelican House, +where Jethro might see them from his window; but he requested a private +audience, and it was probably accidental that the end of his personal +check-book protruded a little from his pocket. He was a big, coarse- +grained man, Mr. Balch, who had once been a brakeman, and had risen by +what is known as horse sense to the presidency of his road. There was a +wonderful sunset beyond the Capitol, but Mr. Balch did not talk about the +sunset, although Jethro was watching it from behind the curtains. + +"If you are willing to undertake this fight against consolidation," said +Mr. Balch, "we are ready to talk business with you." + +"D-don't know what you're going to, do," answered Jethro; "I'm going to +prevent consolidation, if I can." + +"All right," said Balch, smiling. He regarded this reply as one of +Jethro's delicate euphemisms. "We're prepared to give that same little +retainer." + +Jethro did not look up. Mr. Balch went to the table and seized a pen and +filled out a check for an amount that shall be nameless. + +"I have made it payable to bearer, as usual," he said, and he handed it +to Jethro. + +Jethro took it, and absently tore it into little pieces, and threw the +pieces on the floor. Mr. Balch watched him in consternation. He began +to think the report that Jethro had reached his second childhood was +true. + +"What in Halifax are you doing, Bass?" he cried. + +"W-want to stop this consolidation, don't you--want' to stop it?" + +"Certainly I do." + +"G-goin' to do all you can to stop it hain't you?" + +"Certainly I am." + +"I-I'll help you," said Jethro. + +"Help us!" exclaimed Balch. "Great Scott, we want you to take charge of +it." + +"I-I'll do all I can, but I won't guarantee it--w-won't guarantee it," +said Jethro. + +"We don't ask you to guarantee it. If you'll do all you can, that's +enough. You won't take a retainer?" + +"W-won't take anything," said Jethro. + +"You mean to say you don't want anything for your for your time and your +services if the bill is defeated?" + +"T-that's about it, Ed. Little p-private matter with both of us. You +don't want consolidation, and I don't. I hain't offered to give you a +retainer--have I?" + +"No," said the astounded Mr. Balch. He scratched his head and fingered +the leaves of his check-book. The captains over the tens and the +captains over the hundreds would want little retainers--and who was to +pay these? " How about the boys?" asked Mr. Balch. + +"S-still got the same office in the depot--hain't you, Ed, s-same +office?" + +"Yes." + +"G-guess the boys hev b'en there before," said Jethro. + +Mr. Balch went away, meditating upon those sayings, and took the train +for Boston. If he had waked up of a fine morning to find himself at the +head of some benevolent and charitable organization, instead of the "Down +East" Railroad, he could not have been more astonished than he had been +at the unaccountable change of heart of Jethro Bass. He did not know +what to make of it, and told his colleagues so; and at first they feared +one of two things,--treachery or lunacy. But a little later a rumor +reached Mr. Balch's ears that Jethro's hatred of Isaac D. Worthington was +at the bottom of his reappearance in public life, although Jethro himself +never mentioned Mr. Worthington's name. Jethro sat in the Throne Room, +consulting, directing day after day, and when the Legislature assembled, +"the boys" began to call at Mr. Balch's office. But Mr. Balch never +again broached the subject of money to Jethro Bass. + +We have to sing the song of sixpence for the last time in these pages; +and as it is an old song now, there will be no encores. If you can buy +one member of the lower house for ten dollars, how many members can you +buy for fifty? It was no such problem in primary arithmetic that Mr. +Balch and his associates had to solve--theirs was in higher mathematics, +in permutations and combinations, and in least squares. No wonder the +old campaigners speak with tears in their eyes of the days of that ever +memorable summer. There were spoils to be picked up in the very streets +richer than the sack of the thirty cities; and as the session wore on it +is affirmed by men still living that money rained down in the Capitol +Park and elsewhere like manna from the skies, if you were one of a chosen +band. If you were, all you had to do was to look in your vest pockets +when you took your clothes off in the evening and extract enough legal +tender to pay your bill at the Pelican for a week. Mr. Lovejoy having +been overheard one day to make a remark concerning the diet of hogs, the +next morning certain visitors to the capital were horrified to discover +trails of corn leading from the Pelican House to their doorways. Men who +had never seen a receiving teller opened bank accounts. No, it was not a +problem in simple arithmetic, and Mr. Balch and Mr. Flint, and even Mr. +Duncan and Mr. Worthington, covered whole sheets with figures during the +stifling days in July. Some men are so valuable that they can be bought +twice, or even three times, and they make figuring complicated. + +Jethro Bass did no calculating. He sat behind the curtains, and he must +have kept the figures in his head. + +The battle had closed in earnest, and for twelve long, sultry weeks it +raged with unabated fierceness. Consolidation had a terror for the rural +mind, and the state Tribune skilfully played its stream upon the +constituents of those gentlemen who stood tamely at the Worthington +hitching-posts, and the constituents flocked to the capital; that able +newspaper, too, found space to return, with interest, the attacks of Mr. +Worthington's organ, the Newcastle Guardian. These amenities are much +too personal to reproduce here, now that the smoke of battle has rolled +away. An epic could be written upon the conflict, if there were space: +Canto One, the first position carried triumphantly, though at some +expense, by the Worthington forces, who elect the Speaker. That had been +a crucial time before the town meetings, when Jethro abdicated. The +Worthington Speaker goes ahead with his committees, and it is needless to +say that Mr. Chauncey Weed is not made Chairman of the Committee on +Corporations. As an offset to this, the Jethro forces gain on the +extreme right, where the Honorable Peleg Hartington is made President of +the Senate, etc. + +For twelve hot weeks, with a public spirit which is worthy of the highest +praise, the Committee sit in their shirt sleeves all day long and listen +to arguments for and against consolidation; and ask learned questions +that startle rural witnesses; and smoke big Florizel cigars (a majority +of them). Judge Abner Parkinson defends his bill, quoting from the +Constitution and the Declaration of Independence and the Bible; a +celebrated lawyer from the capital riddles it, using the same +authorities, and citing the Federalist and the Golden Rule in addition. +The Committee sit open-minded, listening with laudable impartiality; it +does not become them to arrive at a hasty decision on a question of such +magnitude. In the meantime the House passes an important bill dealing +with the bounty on hedgehogs, and there are several card games going on +in the cellar, where it is cool. + +The governor of the state is a free lance, and may be seen any afternoon +walking through the park, consorting with no one. He may be recognized +even at a distance by his portly figure, his silk hat, and his dignified +mien. Yes, it is an old and valued friend, the Honorable Alva Hopkins, +patron of the drama, and sometimes he has a beautiful young woman (still +unattached) by his side. He lives in a suite of rooms at the Pelican. +It is a well-known fact (among Mr. Worthington's supporters) that the +Honorable Alva promised in January, when Mr. Bass retired, to sign the +Consolidation Bill, and that he suddenly became open-minded in March, and +has remained open-minded ever since, listening gravely to arguments, and +giving much study to the subject. He is an executive now, although it is +the last year of his term, and of course he is never seen either in the +Throne Room or the Railroad Room. And besides, he may become a senator. + +August has come, and the forces are spent and panting, and neither side +dares to risk the final charge. The reputation of Jethro Bass is at +stake. Should he risk and lose, he must go back to Coniston a beaten +man, subject to the contempt of his neighbors and his state. People do +not know that he has nothing now to go back to, and that he cares nothing +for contempt. As he sits in his window day after day he has only one +thought and one wish,--to ruin Isaac D. Worthington. And he will do it +if he can. Those who know--and among them is Mr. Balch himself--say that +Jethro has never conducted a more masterly campaign than this, and that +all the others have been mere childish trials of strength compared to it. +So he sits there through those twelve weeks while the session slips by, +while his opponents grumble, and while even his supporters, eager for the +charge, complain. The truth is that in all the years of his activity be +has never had such an antagonist as Mr. Flint. Victory hangs in the +balance, and a false move will throw it to either side. + +Victory hangs now, to be explicit, upon two factors. The first and most +immediate of these is a certain canny captain of many wars whose regiment +is still at the disposal of either army--for a price, a regiment which +has hitherto remained strictly neutral. And what a regiment it is! A +block of river towns and a senator, and not a casualty since they marched +boldly into camp twelve weeks ago. Mr. Batch is getting very much +worried about this regiment, and beginning to doubt Jethro's judgment. + +"I tell you, Bass," he said one evening, "if you allow him to run around +loose much longer, we're lost, that's all there is to it!" (Mr. Batch +referred to the captain in question.) "They'll buy up his block at his +figure--see, if they don't. They're getting desperate. Don't you think +I'd better bid him in?" + +"B-bid him in if you've a mind to; Ed." + +"Look here, Jethro," said Mr. Batch, savagely biting off the end of a +cigar, "I'm beginning to think you don't care a continental about this +business. Which side are you on, anyway?" The heat and the length and +the uncertainty of the struggle were telling on the nerves of the +railroad president. "You sit there from morning till night and won't say +anything; and now, when there's only one block out, you won't give the +word to buy it." + +"N-never told you to buy anything, did I--Ed?" + +"No," answered Mr. Batch, "you haven't. I don't know what the devil's +got into you." + +"D-done all the payin' without consultin' me, hain't you, Ed?" + +"Yes; I have. What are you driving at?" + +"D-done it if I hadn't b'en here, wouldn't you?" + +"Yes, and more too," said Mr. Batch. + +"W-wouldn't make much difference to you if I wasn't here--would it?" + +"Great Scott, Jethro, what do you mean?" cried the railroad president, in +genuine alarm; "you're not going to pull out, are you?" + +"W-wouldn't make much odds if I did--would it, Ed?" + +"The devil it wouldn't!" exclaimed Mr. Balch. "If you pulled out, we'd +lose the North Country, and Peleg, and Gosport, and nobody can tell which +way Alva Hopkins will swing. I guess you know what he'll do--you're so +d--d secretive I can't tell whether you do or not. If you pulled out, +they'd have their bill on Friday." + +"H-hain't under any obligations to you, Ed--am I?" + +"No," said Mr. Batch, "but I don't see why you keep harping on that." + +"J-dust wanted to have it clear," said Jethro, and relapsed into silence. + +There was a fireproof carpet on the Throne Room, and Mr. Batch flung down +his cigar and stamped on it and went out. No wonder he could not +understand Jethro's sudden scruples about money and obligations--about +railroad money, that is. Jethro was spending some of his own, but not in +the capital, and in a manner which was most effective. In short, at the +very moment when Mr. Batch stamped on his cigar, Jethro had the victory +in his hands--only he did not choose to say so. He had had a mysterious +telegram that day from Harwich, signed by Chauncey Weed, and Mr. Weed +himself appeared at the door of Number 7, fresh from his travels, shortly +after Mr. Batch had gone out of it. Mr. Weed closed the door gently, and +locked it, and sat down in a rocking chair close to Jethro and put his +hand over his mouth. We cannot hear what Mr. Weed is saying. All is +mystery here, and in order to preserve that mystery we shall delay for a +little the few words which will explain Mr. Weed's successful mission. + +Mr. Batch, angry and bewildered, descended into the rotunda, where he +shortly heard two astounding pieces of news. The first was that the +Honorable Heth Sutton had abandoned the Florizel cigars and had gone home +to Clovelly. The second; that Mr. Bijah Bixby had resigned the claw- +hammer and had ceased to open the packing cases in the Railroad Room. +Consternation reigned in that room, so it was said (and this was true). +Mr. Worthington and Mr. Duncan and Mr. Lovejoy were closeted there with +Mr. Flint, and the door was locked and the transom shut, and smoke was +coming out of the windows. + +Yes, Mr. Bijah Bixby is the canny captain of whom Mr. Balch spoke: he it +is who owns that block of river towns, intact, and the one senator. +Impossible! We have seen him opening the packing cases, we have seen him +working for the Worthington faction for the last two years. Mr. Bixby +was very willing to open boxes, and to make himself useful and agreeable; +but it must be remembered that a good captain of mercenaries owes a +sacred duty to his followers. At first Mr. Flint had thought he could +count on Mr. Bixby; after a while he made several unsuccessful attempts +to talk business with him; a particularly difficult thing to do, even for +Mr. Flint, when Mr. Bixby did not wish to talk business. Mr. Balch had +found it quite as difficult to entice Mr. Bixby away from the boxes and +the Railroad Room. The weeks drifted on, until twelve went by, and then +Mr. Bixby found himself, with his block of river towns and one senator, +in the incomparable position of being the arbiter of the fate of the +Consolidation Bill in the House and Senate. No wonder Mr. Balch wanted +to buy the services of that famous regiment at any price! + +But Mr. Bixby, for once in his life, had waited too long. + +When Mr. Balch, rejoicing, but not a little indignant at not having been +taken into confidence, ascended to the Throne Room after supper to +question Jethro concerning the meaning of the things he had heard, he +found Senator Peleg Hartington seated mournfully on the bed, talking at +intervals, and Jethro listening. + +"Come up and eat out of my hand," said the senator. + +"Who?" demanded Mr. Balch. + +"Bije," answered the senator. + +"Great Scott, do you mean to say you've got Bixby?" exclaimed the +railroad president. He felt as if he would like to shake the senator, +who was so deliberate and mournful in his answers. "What did you pay +him?" + +Mr. Hartington appeared shocked by the question. + +"Guess Heth Sutton will settle with him," he said. + +"Heth Sutton! Why the--why should Heth pay him?" + +"Guess Heth'd like to make him a little present, under the circumstances. +I was goin' through the barber shop," Mr. Hartington continued, speaking +to Jethro and ignoring the railroad president, "and I heard somebody +whisperin' my name. Sound came out of that little shampoo closet; went +in there and found Bije. 'Peleg,' says he, right into my ear, 'tell +Jethro it's all right--you understand. We want Heth to go back--break +his heart if he didn't--you understand. If I'd knowed last winter Jethro +meant business, I wouldn't hev' helped Gus Flint out. Tell Jethro he can +have 'em--you know what I mean.' Bije waited a little mite too long," +said the senator, who had given a very fair imitation of Mr. Bixby's +nasal voice and manner. + +"Well, I'm d--d!" ejaculated Mr. Balch, staring at Jethro. "How did you +work it?" + +Sent Chauncey through the deestrict," said Mr. Hartington. + +Mr. Chauncey Weed had, in truth, gone through a part of the congressional +district of the Honorable Heth Sutton with a little leather bag. Mr. +Weed had been able to do some of his work (with the little leather bag) +in the capital itself. In this way Mr. Bixby's regiment, Sutton was the +honorary colonel, had been attacked in the rear and routed. Here was to +be a congressional convention that autumn, and a large part of Mr. +Sutton's district lay in the North Country, which, as we have seen, was +loyal to Jethro to the back bone. The district, too, was largely rural, +and therefore anti-consolidation, and the inability of the Worthington +forces to get their bill through had made it apparent that Jethro Bass +was as powerful as ever. Under these circumstances it had not been very +difficult for a gentleman of Mr. Chauncey Weed's powers of persuasion to +induce various lieutenants in the district to agree to send delegates to +the coming convention who would be conscientiously opposed to Mr. Sutton's +renomination: hence the departure from the capital of Mr. Sutton; hence +the generous offer of Mr. Bixby to put his regiment at the disposal of +Mr. Bass--free of charge. + +The second factor on which victory hung (we can use the past tense now) +was none other than his Excellency Alva Hopkins, governor of the state. +The bill would never get to his Excellency now--so people said; would +never get beyond that committee who had listened so patiently to the +twelve weeks of argument. These were only rumors, after all, for the +rotunda never knows positively what goes on in high circles; but the +rotunda does figuring, too, when at length the problem is reduced to a +simple equation, with Bijah Bixby as x. If it were true that Bijah had +gone over to Jethro Bass, the Consolidation Bill was dead. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +When Jethro Bass walked out of the hotel that evening men looked at him, +and made way for him, but none spoke to him. There was something in his +face that forbade speech. He was a great man once more--a greater man +than ever; and he had, if the persistent rumors were true, accomplished +an almost incomprehensible feat, even for Jethro Bass. There was another +reason, too, why they stared at him. In all those twelve weeks of that +most trying of all sessions he had not once gone into the street, and he +had been less than ever common in the eyes of men. Twice a day he had +descended to the dining room for a simple meal--that was all; and fewer +had gained entrance to Room Number 7 this session than ever before. + +There is a river that flows by the capital, a wide and gentle river +bordered by green meadows and fringed with willows; higher up, if you go +far enough, a forest comes down to the water on the western side. Jethro +walked through the hooded bridge, and up the eastern bank until he could +see the forest like a black band between the orange sky and the orange +river, and there he sat down upon a fallen log on the edge of the bank. +But Jethro was thinking of another scene,--of a granite-ribbed pasture on +Coniston Mountain that swings in limitless space, from either end of +which a man may step off into eternity. William Wetherell, in one of his +letters, had described that place as the Threshold of the Nameless +Worlds, and so it had seemed to Jethro in the years of his desolation. +He was thinking of it now, even as it had been in his mind that winter's +evening when Cynthia had come to Coniston and had surprised him with that +look of terrible loneliness on his face. + +Yes, and he was thinking of Cynthia. When, indeed, had he not been +thinking of her? How many tunes had he rehearsed the events in the +tannery house--for they were the events of his life now. The triumphs +over his opponents and enemies fell away, and the pride of power. Such +had not been his achievements. She had loved him, and no man had reached +a higher pinnacle than that. + +Why he had forfeited that love for vengeance, he could not tell. The +embers of a man's passions will suddenly burst into flame, and he will +fiddle madly while the fire burns his soul. He had avenged her as well +as himself; but had he avenged her, now that he held Isaac Worthington in +his power? By crushing him, had he not added to her trouble and her +sorrow? She had confessed that she loved Isaac Worthington's son, and +was not he (Jethro) widening the breach between Cynthia and the son by +crushing the father? Jethro had not thought of this. But he had thought +of her, night and day, as he had sat in his room directing the battle. +Not a day had passed that he had not looked for a letter, hoping against +hope. If she had written to him once, if she had come to him once, would +he have desisted? He could not say--the fires of hatred had burned so +fiercely, and still burned so fiercely, that he clenched his fists when +it came over him that Isaac Worthington was at last in his power. + +A white line above the forest was all that remained of the sunset when he +rose up and took from his coat a silver locket and opened it and held it +to the fading light. Presently he closed it again, and walked slowly +along the river bank toward the little city twinkling on its hill. He +crossed the hooded bridge and climbed the slope, stopping for a moment at +a little stationery shop; he passed through the groups which were still +loudly discussing this thing he had done, and gained his room and locked +the door. Men came to it and knocked and got no answer. The room was in +darkness, and the night breeze stirred among the trees in the park and +blew in at the window. + +At last Jethro got up and lighted the gas and paused at the centre table. +He was to violate more than one principle of his life that night, though +not without a struggle; and he sat for a long while looking at the blank +paper before him. Then he wrote, and sealed the letter--which contained +three lines--and pulled the bell cord. The call was answered by a +messenger who had been far many years in the service of the Pelican +House, and who knew many secrets of the gods. The man actually grew pale +when he saw the address on the envelope which was put in his hand and +read the denomination of the crisp note under it that was the price of +silence. + +"F-find the gentleman and give it to him yourself. Er--John?" + +"Yes, Mr. Bass?" + +"If you don't find him, bring it--back." + +When the man had gone, Jethro turned down the gas and went again to his +chair by the window. For a while voices came up to him from the street, +but at length the groups dispersed, one by one; and a distant clock +boomed out eleven solemn strokes. Twice the clock struck again, at the +half-hour and midnight, and the noises in the house--the banging of doors +and the jangling of keys and the hurrying of feet in the corridors--were +hushed. Jethro took no thought of these or of time, and sat gazing at +the stars in the depths of the sky above the capital dome until a shadow +emerged from the black mass of the trees opposite and crossed the street. +In a few minutes there were footsteps in the corridor,--stealthy +footsteps--and a knock on the door. Jethro got up and opened it, and +closed it again and locked it. Then he turned up the gas. + +"S-sit down," he said, and nodded his head toward the chair by the table. + +Isaac Worthington laid his silk hat on the table, and sat down. He +looked very haggard and worn in that light, very unlike the first citizen +who had entered Brampton in triumph on his return from the West not many +months before. The long strain of a long fight, in which he had risked +much for which he had labored a life to gain, had told on him, and there +were crow's-feet at the corners of, his eyes, and dark circles under +them. Isaac Worthington had never lost before, and to destroy the fruits +of such a man's ambition is to destroy the man. He was not as young as +he had once been. But now, in the very hour of defeat, hope had +rekindled the fire in the eyes and brought back the peculiar, tight- +lipped, mocking smile to the mouth. An hour ago, when he had been pacing +Alexander Duncan's library, the eyes and the mouth had been different. + +Long habit asserts itself at the strangest moments. Jethro Bass took his +seat by the window, and remained silent. The clock tolled the half-hour +after midnight. + +"You wanted to see me," said Mr. Worthington, finally. + +Jethro nodded, almost imperceptibly. + +"I suppose," said Mr. Worthington, slowly, "I suppose you are ready to +sell out." He found it a little difficult to control his voice. + +"Yes," answered Jethro, "r-ready to sell out." + +Mr. Worthington was somewhat taken aback by this simple admission. He +glanced at Jethro sitting motionless by the window, and in his heart he +feared him: he had come into that room when the gas was low, afraid. +Although he would not confess it to himself, he had been in fear of +Jethro Bass all his life, and his fear had been greater than ever since +the March day when Jethro had left Coniston. And could he have known, +now, the fires of hatred burning in Jethro's breast, Isaac Worthington +would have been in terror indeed. + +"What have you got to sell?" he demanded sharply. + +"G-guess you know, or you wouldn't have come here." + +"What proof have I that you have it to sell?" + +Jethro looked at him for an instant. + +"M-my word," he said. + +Isaac Worthington was silent for a while: he was striving to calm +himself, for an indefinable something had shaken him. The strange +stillness of the hour and the stranger atmosphere which seemed to +surround this transaction filled him with a nameless dread. The man in +the window had been his lifelong enemy: more than this, Jethro Bass, was +not like ordinary men--his ways were enshrouded in mystery, and when he +struck, he struck hard. There grew upon Isaac Worthington a sense that +this midnight hour was in some way to be the culmination of the long +years of hatred between them. + +He believed Jethro: he would have believed him even if Mr. Flint had not +informed him that afternoon that he was beaten, and bitterly he wished he +had taken Mr. Flint's advice many months before. Denunciation sprang to +his lips which he dared not utter. He was beaten, and he must pay--the +pound of flesh. Isaac Worthington almost thought it would be a pound of +flesh. + +"How much do you want?" he said. + +Again Jethro looked at him. + +"B-biggest price you can pay," he answered. + +"You must have made up your mind what you want. You've had time enough." + +"H-have made up my mind," said Jethro. + +"Make your demand," said Mr. Worthington, "and I'll give you my answer." + +"B-biggest price you can pay," said Jethro, again. + +Mr. Worthington's nerves could stand it no longer. + +"Look here," he cried, rising in his chair, "if you've brought me here to +trifle with me, you've made a mistake. It's your business to get control +of things that belong to other people, and sell them out. I am here to +buy. Nothing but necessity brings me here, and nothing but necessity +will keep me here a moment longer than I have to stay to finish this +abominable affair. I am ready to pay you twenty thousand dollars the day +that bill becomes a law." + +This time Jethro did not look at him. + +"P-pay me now," he said. + +"I will pay you the day the bill becomes a law. Then I shall know where +I stand." + +Jethro did not answer this ultimatum in any manner, but remained +perfectly still looking out of the window. Mr. Worthington glanced at +him, twice, and got his fingers on the brim of his hat, but he did not +pick it up. He stood so for a while, knowing full well that if he went +out of that room his chance was gone. Consolidation might come in other +years, but he, Isaac Worthington, would not be a factor in it. + +"You don't want a check, do you?" he said at last. + +"No--d-don't want a check." + +"What in God's name do you want? I haven't got twenty thousand dollars +in currency in my pocket." + +"Sit down, Isaac Worthington," said Jethro. + +Mr. Worthington sat down--out of sheer astonishment, perhaps. + +"W-want the consolidation--don't you? Want it bad--don't you?" + +Mr. Worthington did, not answer. Jethro stood over him now, looking down +at him from the other side of the narrow table. + +"Know Cynthy Wetherell?" he said. + +Then Isaac Worthington understood that his premonitions had been real. +The pound of flesh was to be demanded, but strangely enough, he did not +yet comprehend the nature of it. + +"I know that there is such a person," he answered, for his pride would +not permit him to say more. + +"W-what do you know about her?" + +Isaac Worthington was bitterly angry--the more so because he was +helpless, and could not question Jethro's right to ask. What did he know +about her? Nothing, except that she had intrigued to marry his son. +Bob's letter had described her, to be sure, but he could not be expected +to believe that: and he had not heard Miss Lucretia Penniman's speech. +And yet he could not tell Jethro that he knew nothing about her, for he +was shrewd enough to perceive the drift of the next question. + +"Kn-know anything against her?" said Jethro. + +Mr. Worthington leaned back in his chair. + +"I can't see what Miss Wetherell has to do with the present occasion," he +replied. + +"H-had her dismissed by the prudential committee had her dismissed-- +didn't you?" + +"They chose to act as they saw fit." + +"T-told Levi Dodd to dismiss her--didn't you?" + +That was a matter of common knowledge in Brampton, having leaked out +through Jonathan Hill. + +"I must decline to discuss this," said Mr. Worthington. + +"W-wouldn't if I was you." + +"What do you mean?" + +"What I say. T-told Levi Dodd to dismiss her, didn't you?" + +"Yes, I did." Isaac Worthington had lost in self-esteem by not saying so +before. + +"Why? Wahn't she honest? Wahn't she capable? Wahn't she a lady?" + +"I can't say that I know anything against Miss Wetherell's character, if +that's what you mean." + +"F-fit to teach--wahn't she--fit to teach?" + +"I believe she has since qualified before Mr. Errol." + +"Fit to teach--wahn't fit to marry your son--was she?" + +Isaac Worthington clutched the table and started from his chair. He grew +white to his lips with anger, and yet he knew that he must control +himself. + +"Mr. Bass," he said, "you have something to sell, and I have something to +buy--if the price is not ruinous. Let us confine ourselves to that. My +affairs and my son's affairs are neither here nor there. I ask you +again, how much do you want for this Consolidation Bill?" + +"N-no money will buy it." + +"What!" + +"C-consent to this marriage, c-consent to this marriage." There was yet +room for Isaac Worthington to be amazed, and for a while he stared up at +Jethro, speechless. + +"Is that your price?" he asked at last. + +"Th-that's my price," said Jethro. + +Isaac Worthington got up and went to the window and stood looking out +above the black mass of trees at the dome outlined against the star- +flecked sky. At first his anger choked him, and he could not think; he +had just enough reason left not to walk out of the door. But presently +habit asserted itself in him, too, and he began to reflect and calculate +in spite of his anger. It is strange that memory plays so small a part +in such a man. Before he allowed his mind to dwell on the fearful price, +he thought of his ambitions gratified; and yet he did not think then of +the woman to whom he had once confided those ambitions--the woman who was +the girl's mother. Perhaps Jethro was thinking of her. + +It may have been--I know not--that Isaac Worthington wondered at this +revelation of the character of Jethro Bass, for it was a revelation. For +this girl's sake Jethro was willing to forego his revenge, was willing at +the end of his days to allow the world to believe that he had sold out to +his enemy, or that he had been defeated by him. + +But when he thought of the marriage, Isaac Worthington ground his teeth. +A certain sentiment which we may call pride was so strong in him that he +felt ready to make almost any sacrifice to prevent it. To hinder it he +had quarrelled with his son, and driven him away, and threatened +disinheritance. The price was indeed heavy--the heaviest he could pay. +But the alternative--was not that heavier? To relinquish his dream of +power, to sink for a while into a crippled state; for he had spent large +sums, and one of those periodical depressions had come in the business of +the mills, and those Western investments were not looking so bright now. + +So, with his hands opening and closing in front of him, Isaac Worthington +fought out his battle. A terrible war, that, between ambition and pride +--a war to the knife. The issue may yet have been undecided when he +turned round to Jethro with a sneer which he could not resist. + +"Why doesn't she marry him without my consent?" + +In a moment Mr. Worthington knew he had gone too far. A certain kind of +an eye is an incomparable weapon, and armed men have been cowed by those +who possess it, though otherwise defenceless. Jethro Bass had that kind +of an eye. + +"G-guess you wouldn't understand if I was to tell you," he said. + +Mr. Worthington walked to the window again, perhaps to compose himself, +and then came back again. + +"Your proposition is," be said at length, "that if I give my consent to +this marriage, we are to have Bixby and the governor, and the +Consolidation Bill will become a law. Is that it?" + +"Th-that's it," said Jethro, taking his accustomed seat. + +"And this consent is to be given when the bill becomes a law?" + +"Given now. T-to-night." + +Mr. Worthington took another turn as far as the door, and suddenly came +and stood before Jethro. + +"Well, I consent." + +Jethro nodded toward the table. + +"Er--pen and paper there," he said. + +"What do you want me to do?" demanded Mr. Worthington. + +"W-write to Bob--write to Cynthy. Nice letters." + +"This is carrying matters with too high a hand, Mr. Bass. I will write +the letters to-morrow morning." It was intolerable that he, the first +citizen of Brampton, should have to submit to such humiliation. + +"Write 'em now. W-want to see 'em." + +"But if I give you my word they will be written and sent to you to-morrow +afternoon?" + +"T-too late," said Jethro; "sit down and write 'em now." + +Mr. Worthington went irresolutely to the table, stood for a minute, and +dropped suddenly into the chair there. He would have given anything +(except the realization of his ambitions) to have marched out of the room +and to have slammed the door behind him. The letter paper and envelopes +which Jethro had bought stood in a little pile, and Mr. Worthington +picked up the pen. The clock struck two as he wrote the date, as though +to remind him that he had written it wrong. If Flint could see him now! +Would Flint guess? Would anybody guess? He stared at the white paper, +and his rage came on again like a gust of wind, and he felt that he would +rather beg in the streets than write such a thing. And yet--and yet he +sat there. Surely Jethro Bass must have known that he could have taken +no more exquisite vengeance than this, to compel a man--and such a man-- +to sit down in the white heat of passion--and write two letters of +forgiveness! Jethro sat by the window, to all appearances oblivious to +the tortures of his victim. + +He who has tried to write a note--the simplest note when his mind was +harassed, will understand something of Isaac Worthington's sensations. +He would no sooner get an inkling of what his opening sentence was to be +than the flames of his anger would rise and sweep it away. He could not +even decide which letter he was to write first: to his son, who had +defied him and who (the father knew in his heart) condemned him? or to +the schoolteacher, who was responsible for all his misery; who--Mr. +Worthington believed--had taken advantage of his son's youth by feminine +wiles of no mean order so as to gain possession of him. I can almost +bring myself to pity the first citizen of Brampton as he sits there with +his pen poised over the paper, and his enemy waiting to read those tender +epistles of forgiveness which he has yet to write. The clock has almost +got round to the half-hour again, and there is only the date--and a wrong +one at that. + +"My dear Miss Wetherell,--Circumstances (over which I have no control?)" +--ought he not to call her Cynthia? He has to make the letter credible in +the eyes of the censor who sits by the window. "My dear Miss Wetherell, +I have come to the conclusion"--two sheets torn up, or thrust into Mr. +Worthington's pocket. By this time words have begun to have a colorless +look. "My dear Miss Wetherell,--Having become convinced of the sincere +attachment which my son Robert has for you, I am writing him to-night to +give my full consent to his marriage. He has given me to understand that +you have hitherto persistently refused to accept him because I have +withheld that consent, and I take this opportunity of expressing my +admiration of this praiseworthy resolution on your part." (If this be +irony, it is sublime! Perhaps Isaac Worthington has a little of the +artist in him, and now that he is in the heat of creation has forgotten +the circumstances under which he is composing.) "My son's happiness and +career in life are of such moment to me that, until the present, I could +not give my sanction to what I at first regarded as a youthful fancy. +Now that, my son, for your sake, has shown his determination and ability +to make his own way in the world," (Isaac Worthington was not a little +proud of this) "I have determined that it is wise to withdraw my +opposition, and to recall Robert to his proper place, which is near me. +I am sure that my feelings in this matter will be clear to you, and that +you will look with indulgence upon any acts of mine which sprang from a +natural solicitation for the welfare and happiness of my only child. I +shall be in Brampton in a day or two, and I shall at once give myself the +pleasure of calling on you. Sincerely yours, Isaac D. Worthington." + +Perhaps a little formal and pompous for some people, but an admirable and +conciliatory letter for the first citizen of Brampton. Written under +such trying circumstances, with I know not how many erasures and false +starts, it is little short of a marvel in art: neither too much said, nor +too little, for a relenting parent of Mr. Worthington's character, and I +doubt whether Talleyrand or Napoleon or even Machiavelli himself could +have surpassed it. The second letter, now that Mr. Worthington had got +into the swing, was more easily written. "My dear Robert" (it said), "I +have made up my mind to give my consent to your marriage to Miss +Wetherell, and I am ready to welcome you home, where I trust I shall see +you shortly. I have not been unimpressed by the determined manner in +which you have gone to work for yourself, but I believe that your place +is in Brampton, where I trust you will show the same energy in learning +to succeed me in the business which I have founded there as you have +exhibited in Mr. Broke's works. Affectionately, your Father." + +A very creditable and handsome letter for a forgiving fath8r. When Mr. +Worthington had finished it, and had addressed both the envelopes, his +shame and vexation had, curious to relate, very considerably abated. Not +to go too deeply into the somewhat contradictory mental and cardiac +processes of Mr. Worthington, he had somehow tricked himself by that +magic exercise of wielding his pen into thinking that he was doing a +noble and generous action: into believing that in the course of a very +few days--or weeks, at the most, he would have recalled his erring son +and have given Cynthia his blessing. He would, he told himself, have +been forced eventually to yield when that paragon of inflexibility, Bob, +dictated terms to him at the head of the locomotive works. Better let +the generosity be on his (Mr. Worthington's) side. At all events, +victory had never been bought more cheaply. Humiliation, in Mr. +Worthington's eyes, had an element of publicity in it, and this episode +had had none of that element; and Jethro Bass, moreover, was a highwayman +who had held a pistol to his head. In such logical manner he gradually +bolstered up again his habitual poise and dignity. Next week, at the +latest, men would point to him as the head of the largest railroad +interests in the state. + +He pushed back his chair, and rose, merely indicating the result of his +labors by a wave of his hand. And he stood in the window as Jethro Bass +got up and went to the table. I would that I had a pen able to describe +Jethro's sensations when he read them. Unfortunately, he is a man with +few facial expressions. But I believe that he was artist enough himself +to appreciate the perfections of the first citizen's efforts. After a +much longer interval than was necessary for their perusal, Mr. +Worthington turned. + +"G-guess they'll do," said Jethro, as he folded them up. He was too +generous not to indulge, for once, in a little well-deserved praise. +"Hain't underdone it, and hain't overdone it a mite hev you? M-man of +resource. Callate you couldn't hev beat that if you was to take a week +to it." + +"I think it only fair to tell you," said Mr. Worthington, picking up his +silk hat, "that in those letters I have merely anticipated a very little +my intentions in the matter. My son having proved his earnestness, +I was about to consent to the marriage of my own accord." + +"G-goin' to do it anyway--was you?" + +"I had so determined." + +"A-always thought you was high-minded," said Jethro. + +Mr. Worthington was on the point of giving a tart reply to this, but +restrained himself. + +"Then I may look upon the matter as settled?" he said. "The +Consolidation Bill is to become a law?" + +"Yes," said Jethro, "you'll get your bill." Mr. Worthington had got his +hand on the knob of the door when Jethro stopped him with a word. He had +no facial expressions, but he had an eye, as we have seen--an eye that +for the second time appeared terrible to his visitor. "Isaac +Worthington," he said, "a-act up to it. No trickery--or look out--look +out." + +Then, the incident being closed so far as he was concerned, Jethro went +back to his chair by the window, but it is to be recorded that Isaac +Worthington did not answer him immediately. Then he said:-- + +"You seem to forget that you are talking to a gentleman." + +"That's so," answered Jethro, "so you be." + +He sat where he was long after the sky had whitened and the stars had +changed from gold to silver and gone out, and the sunlight had begun to +glance upon the green leaves of the park. Perhaps he was thinking of the +life he had lived, which was spent now: of the men he had ruled, of the +victories he had gained from that place which would know him no more. He +had won the last and the greatest of his victories there, compared to +which the others had indeed been as vanities. Perhaps he looked back +over the highway of his life and thought of the woman whom he had loved, +and wondered what it had been if she had trod it by his side. Who will +judge him? He had been what he had been; and as the Era was, so was he. +Verily, one generation passeth away, and another generation cometh. + +When Mr. Isaac Worthington arrived at Mr. Duncan's house, where he was +staying, at three o'clock in the morning, he saw to his surprise light +from the library windows lying in bars across the lawn under the trees. +He found Mr. Duncan in that room with Somers, his son, who had just +returned from a seaside place, and they were discussing a very grave +event. Miss Janet Duncan had that day eloped with a gentleman who--to +judge from the photograph Somers held--was both handsome and romantic- +looking. He had long hair and burning eyes, and a title not to be then +verified, and he owned a castle near some place on the peninsula of Italy +not on the map. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +We are back in Brampton, owning, as we do, an annual pass over the Truro +Railroad. Cynthia has been there all the summer, and as it is now the +first of September, her school has begun again. I do not by any means +intend to imply that Brampton is not a pleasant place to spend the +summer: the number of its annual visitors is a refutation of that; but to +Cynthia the season had been one of great unhappiness. Several times Lem +Hallowell had stopped the stage in front of Ephraim's house to beg her to +go to Coniston, and Mr. Satterlee had come himself; but she could not +have borne to be there without Jethro. Nor would she go to Boston, +though urged by Miss Lucretia; and Mrs. Merrill and the girls had +implored her to join them at a seaside place on the Cape. + +Cynthia had made a little garden behind Ephraim's house, and she spent +the summer there with her flowers and her books, many of which Lem had +fetched from Coniston. Ephraim loved to sit there of an evening and +smoke his pipe and chat with Ezra Graves and the neighbors who dropped +in. Among these were Mr. Gamaliel Ives, who talked literature with +Cynthia; and Lucy Baird, his wife, who had taken Cynthia under her wing. +I wish I had time to write about Lucy Baird. And Mr. Jonathan Hill came- +-his mortgage not having been foreclosed, after all. When Cynthia was +alone with Ephraim she often read to him,--generally from books of a +martial flavor,--and listened with an admirable hypocrisy to certain +narratives which he was in the habit of telling. + +They never spoke of Jethro. Ephraim was not a casuist, and his sense of +right and wrong came largely through his affections. It is safe to say +that he never made an analysis of the sorrow which he knew was afflicting +the girl, but he had had a general and most sympathetic understanding of +it ever since the time when Jethro had gone back to the capital; and +Ephraim never brought home his Guardian or his Clarion now, but read them +at the office, that their contents might not disturb her. + +No wonder that Cynthia was unhappy. The letters came, almost every day, +with the postmark of the town in New Jersey where Mr. Broke's locomotive +works were; and she answered them now (but oh, how scrupulously!), though +not every day. If the waters of love rose up through the grains of sand, +it was, at least, not Cynthia's fault. Hers were the letters of a +friend. She was reading such and such a book--had he read it? And he +must not work too hard. How could her letters be otherwise when Jethro +Bass, her benefactor, was at the capital working to defeat and perhaps to +ruin Bob's father? when Bob's father had insulted and persecuted her? +She ought not to have written at all; but the lapses of such a heroine +are very rare, and very dear. + +Yes, Cynthia's life was very bitter that summer, with but little hope on +the horizon of it. Her thoughts were divided between Bob and Jethro. +Many a night she lay awake resolving to write to Jethro, even to go to +him, but when morning came she could not bring herself to do so. I do +not think it was because she feared that he might believe her appeal +would be made in behalf of Bob's father. Knowing Jethro as she did, she +felt that it would be useless, and she could not bear to make it in vain; +if the memory of that evening in the tannery shed would not serve, +nothing would serve. And again--he had gone to avenge her. + +It was inevitable that she should hear tidings from the capital. Isaac +Worthington's own town was ringing with it. And as week after week of +that interminable session went by, the conviction slowly grew upon +Brampton that its first citizen had been beaten by Jethro Bass. +Something of Mr. Worthington's affairs was known: the mills, for +instance, were not being run to their full capacity. And then had come +the definite news that Mr. Worthington was beaten, a local representative +having arrived straight from the rotunda. Cynthia overheard Lem +Hallowell telling it to Ephraim, and she could not for the life of her +help rejoicing, though she despised herself for it. Isaac Worthington +was humbled now, and Jethro had humbled him to avenge her. Despite her +grief over his return to that life, there was something to compel her awe +and admiration in the way he had risen and done this thing after men had +fallen from him. Her mother had had something of these same feelings, +without knowing why. + +People who had nothing but praise for him before were saying hard things +about Isaac Worthington that night. When the baron is defeated, the +serfs come out of their holes in the castle rock and fling their curses +across the moat. Cynthia slept but little, and was glad when the day +came to take her to her scholars, to ease her mind of the thoughts which +tortured it. + +And then, when she stopped at the post-office to speak to Ephraim on her +way homeward in the afternoon, she heard men talking behind the +partition, and she stood, as one stricken, listening beside the window. +Other tidings had come in the shape of a telegram. The first rumor had +been false. Brampton had not yet received the details, but the +Consolidation Bill had gone into the House that morning, and would be a +law before the week was out. A part of it was incomprehensible to +Cynthia, but so much she had understood. She did not wait to speak to +Ephraim, and she was going out again when a man rushed past her and +through the partition door. Cynthia paused instinctively, for she +recognized him as one of the frequenters of the station and a bearer of +news. + +"Jethro's come home, boys," he shouted; "come in on the four o'clock, and +went right off to Coniston. Guess he's done for, this time, for certain. +Looks it. By Godfrey, he looks eighty! Callate his day's over, from the +way the boys talked on the train." + +Cynthia lingered to hear no more, and went out, dazed, into the September +sunshine: Jethro beaten, and broken, and gone to Coniston. Resolution +came to her as she walked. Arriving home, she wrote a little note and +left it on the table for Ephraim; and going out again, ran by the back +lane to Mr. Sherman's livery stable behind the Brampton House, and in +half an hour was driving along that familiar road to Coniston, alone; for +she had often driven Jethro's horses, and knew every turn of the way. +And as she gazed at the purple mountain through the haze and drank in the +sweet scents of the year's fulness, she was strangely happy. There was +the village green in the cool evening light, and the flagstaff with its +tip silvered by the departing sun. She waved to Rias and Lem and Moses +at the store, but she drove on to the tannery house, and hitched the +horse at the rough granite post, and went in, and through the house, +softly, to the kitchen. + +Jethro was standing in the doorway, and did not turn. He may have +thought she was Millicent Skinner. Cynthia could see his face. It was +older, indeed, and lined and worn, but that fearful look of desolation +which she had once surprised upon it, and which she in that instant +feared to see, was not there. Jethro's soul was at peace, though Cynthia +could not understand why it was so. She stole to him and flung her arms +about his neck, and with a cry he seized her and held her against him for +I know not how long. Had it been possible to have held her there always, +he would never have let her go. At last he looked down into her tear-wet +face, into her eyes that were shining with tears. + +"D-done wrong, Cynthy." + +Cynthia did not answer that, for she remembered how she, too, had exulted +when she had believed him to have accomplished Isaac Worthington's +downfall. Now that he had failed, and she was in his arms, it was not +for her to judge--only to rejoice. + +"Didn't look for you to come back--didn't expect it." + +"Uncle Jethro!" she faltered. Love for her had made him go, and she +would not say that, either. + +"D-don't hate me, Cynthy--don't hate me?" + +She shook her head. + +"Love me--a little?" + +She reached up her hands and brushed back his hair, tenderly, from his +forehead. Such--a loving gesture was her answer. + +"You are going to stay here always, now," she said, in a low voice, "you +are never going away again." + +"G-goin' to stay always," he answered. Perhaps he was thinking of the +hillside clearing in the forest--who knows! "You'll come-sometime, +Cynthy--sometime?" + +"I'll come every Saturday and Sunday, Uncle Jethro," she said, smiling up +at him. "Saturday is only two days away, now. I can hardly wait." + +"Y-you'll come sometime?" + +"Uncle Jethro, do you think I'll be away from you, except--except when I +have to?" + +"C-come and read to me--won't you--come and read?" + +"Of course I will!" + +"C-call to mind the first book you read to me, Cynthy?" + +"It was 'Robinson Crusoe,'" she said. + +"'R-Robinson Crusoe.' Often thought of that book. Know some of it by +heart. R-read it again, sometime, Cynthy?" + +She looked up at him a little anxiously. His eyes were on the great hill +opposite, across Coniston Water. + +"I will, indeed, Uncle Jethro, if we can find it," she answered. + +"Guess I can find it," said Jethro. "R-remember when you saw him makin' +a ship?" + +"Yes," said Cynthia," and I had my feet in the pool." + +The book had made a profound impression upon Jethro, partly because +Cynthia had first read it to him, and partly for another reason. The +isolation of Crusoe; depicted by Defoe's genius, had been comparable to +his own isolation, and he had pondered upon it much of late. Yes, and +upon a certain part of another book which he had read earlier in life: +Napoleon had ended his days on St. Helena. + +They walked out under the trees to the brook-side and stood listening to +the tinkling of the cowbells in the wood lot beyond. The light faded +early on these September evenings, and the smoky mist had begun to rise +from the water when they turned back again. The kitchen windows were +already growing yellow, and through them the faithful Millicent could be +seen bustling about in her preparations for supper. But Cynthia, having +accomplished her errand, would not go in. She could not have borne to +have any one drive back with her to Brampton then, and she must not be +late upon the road. + +"I will come Friday evening, Uncle Jethro," she said, as she kissed him +and gave one last, lingering look at his face. Had it been possible, she +would not have left him, and on her way to Brampton through the gathering +darkness she mused anxiously upon that strange calmness be had shown +after defeat. + +She drove her horse on to the floor of Mr. Sherman's stable, that +gentleman himself gallantly assisting her to alight, and walked homeward +through the lane. Ephraim had not yet returned from the postoffice, +which did not close until eight, and Cynthia smiled when she saw the +utensils of his cooking-kit strewn on the hearth. In her absence he +invariably unpacked and used it, and of course Cynthia at once set +herself to cleaning and packing it again. After that she got her own +supper--a very simple affair--and was putting the sitting room to rights +when Ephraim came thumping in. + +"Well, I swan!" he exclaimed when he saw her. "I didn't look for you to +come back so soon, Cynthy. Put up the kit--hev you?" He stood in front +of the fireplace staring with apparent interest at the place where the +kit had been, and added in a voice which he strove to make quite casual, +"How be Jethro?" + +"He looks older, Cousin Eph," she answered, after a pause, "and I think +he is very tired. But he seems he seems more tranquil and contented than +I hoped to find him." + +"I want to know," said Ephraim. "I am glad to hear it. Glad you went +up, Cynthy--you done right to go. + +"I'd have gone with you, if you'd only told me. I'll git a chance to go +up Sunday." + +There was an air of repressed excitement about the veteran which did not +escape Cynthia. He held two letters in his hand, and, being a +postmaster, he knew the handwriting on both. One had come from that +place in New Jersey, and drew no comment. But the other! That one had +been postmarked at the capital, and as he had sat at his counter at the +post-office waiting for closing time he bad turned it over and over with +many ejaculations and futile guesses. Past master of dissimulation that +he was, he had made up his mind--if he should find Cynthia at home--to +lay the letters indifferently on the table and walk into his bedroom. +This campaign he now proceeded to carry out. + +Cynthia smiled again when he was gone, and shook her head and picked up +the letters: Bob's was uppermost and she read that first, without a +thought of the other one. And she smiled as she read for Bob had had a +promotion. He was not yet at the head of the locomotive works, he +hastened to add, for fear that Cynthia might think that Mr. Broke had +resigned the presidency in his favor; and Cynthia never failed to laugh +at these little facetious asides. He was now earning the princely sum of +ninety dollars a month--not enough to marry on, alas! On Saturday nights +he and Percy Broke scrubbed as much as possible of the grime from their +hands and faces and went to spend Sunday at Elberon, the Broke place on +the Hudson; from whence Miss Sally Broke, if she happened to be at home, +always sent Cynthia her love. As Cynthia is still a heroine, I shall not +describe how she felt about Sally Broke's love. There was plenty of +Bob's own in the letter. Cynthia would got have blamed him if he bad +fallen in love with Miss Broke. It seemed to her little short of +miraculous that, amidst such surroundings, he could be true to her. + +After a period which was no briefer than that usually occupied by Bob's +letters, Cynthia took the other one from her lap, and stared at it in +much perplexity before she tore it open. We have seen its contents over +Mr. Worthington's shoulder, and our hearts will not stop beating--as +Cynthia's did. She read it twice before the full meaning of it came to +her, and after that she could not well mistake it,--the language being so +admirable in every way. She sat very still for a long while, and +presently she heard Ephraim go out. But Cynthia did not move. Mr. +Worthington relented and Bob recalled! The vista of happiness suddenly +opened up, widened and widened until it was too bright for Cynthia's +vision, and she would compel her mind to dwell on another prospect,--that +of the father and son reconciled. Although her temples throbbed, she +tried to analyze the letter. It implied that Mr. Worthington had allowed +Bob to remain away on a sort of probation; it implied that it had been +dictated by a strong paternal love mingled with a strong paternal +justice. And then there was the appeal to her: "You will look with +indulgence upon any acts of mine which sprang from a natural solicitation +for the welfare and happiness of my only child." A terrible insight is +theirs to whom it is given to love as Cynthia loved. + +Suddenly there came a knock which frightened her, for her mind was +running on swiftly from point to point: had, indeed, flown as far as +Coniston by now, and she was thinking of that strange look of peace on +Jethro's face which had troubled her. One letter she thrust into her +dress, but the other she laid aside, and her knees trembled under her as +she rose and went into the entry and raised the latch and opened the +door. There was a moon, and the figure in the frock coat and the silk +hat was the one which she expected to see. The silk hat came off very +promptly. + +"I hope I am not disturbing you, Miss Wetherell," said the owner of it. + +"No," answered Cynthia, faintly. + +"May I come in?" + +Cynthia held open the door a little wider, and Mr. Worthington walked in. +He seemed very majestic and out of place in the little house which +Gabriel Post had built, and he carried into it some of the atmosphere of +the walnut and high ceilings of his own mansion. His manner of laying +his hat, bottom up, on the table, and of unbuttoning his coat, subtly +indicated the honor which he was conferring upon the place. And he eyed +Cynthia, standing before him in the lamplight, with a modification of the +hawk-like look which was meant to be at once condescending and +conciliatory. He did not imprint a kiss upon her brow, as some +prospective fathers-in-law would have done. But his eyes, perhaps +involuntarily, paid a tribute to her personal appearance which heightened +her color. She might not, after all, be such a discredit to the +Worthington family. + +"Won't you sit down?" she asked. + +"Thank you, Cynthia," he said; "I hope I may now be allowed to call you +Cynthia?" + +She did not answer him, but sat down herself, and he followed her +example; with his eyes still upon her. + +"You have doubtless received my letter," began Mr. Worthington. "I only +arrived in Brampton an hour ago, but I thought it best to come to you at +once, under the circumstances." + +"Yes," replied Cynthia, "I received the letter." + +"I am glad," said Mr. Worthington. He was beginning to be a little taken +aback by her calmness and her apparent absence of joy. It was scarcely +the way in which a school-teacher should receive the advances of the +first citizen, come to give a gracious consent to her marriage with his +son. Had he known it, Cynthia was anything but calm. "I am glad," he +said, "because I took pains to explain the exact situation in that +letter, and to set forth my own sentiments. I hope you understood them." + +"Yes, I understood them," said Cynthia, in a low tone. + +This was enigmatical, to say the least. But Mr. Worthington had come +with such praiseworthy intentions that he was disposed to believe that +the girl was overwhelmed by the good fortune which had suddenly overtaken +her. He was therefore disposed to be a little conciliatory. + +"My conduct may have appeared harsh to you," he continued. "I will not +deny that I opposed the matter at first. Robert was still in college, +and he has a generous, impressionable nature which he inherits from his +poor mother--the kind of nature likely to commit a rash act which would +ruin his career. I have since become convinced that he has--ahem-- +inherited likewise a determination of purpose and an ability to get on in +the world which I confess I had underestimated. My friend, Mr. Broke, +has written me a letter about him, and tells me that he has already +promoted him." + +"Yes," said Cynthia. + +"You hear from him?" inquired Mr. Worthington, giving her a quick glance. + +"Yes," said Cynthia, her color rising a little. + +"And yet," said Mr. Worthington, slowly, "I have been under the +impression that you have persistently refused to marry him." + +"That is true," she answered. + +"I cannot refrain from complimenting you, Cynthia, upon such rare +conduct," said he. "You will be glad to know that it has contributed +more than anything else toward my estimation of your character, and has +strengthened me in my resolution that I am now doing right. It may be +difficult for you to understand a father's feelings. The complete +separation from my only son was telling on me severely, and I could not +forget that you were the cause of that separation. I knew nothing about +you, except--" He hesitated, for she had turned to him. + +"Except what?" she asked. + +Mr. Worthington coughed. Mr. Flint had told him, that very morning, of +her separation from Jethro, and of the reasons which people believed had +caused it. Unfortunately, we have not time to go into that conversation +with Mr. Flint, who had given a very good account of Cynthia indeed. +After all (Mr. Worthington reflected), he had consented to the marriage, +and there was no use in bringing Jethro's name into the conversation. +Jethro would be forgotten soon. + +"I will not deny to You that I had other plans for my son," he said. +"I had hoped that he would marry a daughter of a friend of mine. You must +be a little indulgent with parents, Cynthia," he added with a little +smile, "we have our castles in the air, too. Sometimes, as in this case, +by a wise provision of providence they go astray. I suppose you have +heard of Miss Duncan's marriage." + +"No," said Cynthia. + +"She ran off with a worthless Italian nobleman. I believe, on the +whole," he said, with what was an extreme complaisance for the first +citizen, "that I have reason to congratulate myself upon Robert's choice. +I have made inquiries about you, and I find that I have had the pleasure +of knowing your mother, whom I respected very much. And your father, I +understand, came of very good people, and was forced by circumstances to +adopt the means of livelihood he did. My attention has been called to +the letters he wrote to the Guardian, which I hear have been highly +praised by competent critics, and I have ordered a set of them for the +files of the library. You yourself, I find, are highly thought of in +Brampton" (a, not unimportant factor, by the way); "you have been +splendidly educated, and are a lady. In short, Cynthia, I have come to +give my formal consent to your engagement to my son Robert." + +"But I am not engaged to him," said Cynthia. + +"He will be here shortly, I imagine," said Mr. Worthington. + +Cynthia was trembling more than ever by this time. She was very angry, +and she had found it very difficult to repress the things which she had +been impelled to speak. She did not hate Isaac Worthington now--she +despised him. He had not dared to mention Jethro, who had been her +benefactor, though he had done his best to have her removed from the +school because of her connection with Jethro. + +"Mr. Worthington," she said, "I have not yet made up my mind whether I +shall marry your son." + +To say that Mr. Worthington's breath was taken away when he heard these +words would be to use a mild expression. He doubted his senses. + +"What?" he exclaimed, starting forward, "what do you mean?" + +Cynthia hesitated a moment. She was not frightened, but she was trying +to choose her words without passion. + +"I refused to marry him," she said, "because you withheld your consent, +and I did not wish to be the cause of a quarrel between you. It was not +difficult to guess your feelings toward me, even before certain things +occurred of which I will not speak. I did my best, from the very first, +to make Bob give up the thought of marrying me, although I loved and +honored him. Loving him as I do, I do not want to be the cause of +separating him from his father, and of depriving him of that which is +rightfully his. But something was due to myself. If I should ever make +up my mind to marry him," continued Cynthia, looking at Mr. Worthington +steadfastly, "it will not be because your consent is given or withheld." + +"Do you tell me this to my face?" exclaimed Mr. Worthington, now in a +rage himself at such unheard-of presumption. + +"To your face," said Cynthia, who got more self-controlled as he grew +angry. "I believe that that consent, which you say you have given +freely, was wrung from you." + +It was unfortunate that the first citizen might not always have Mr. Flint +by him to restrain and caution him. But Mr. Flint could have no command +over his master's sensations, and anger and apprehension goaded Mr. +Worthington to indiscretion. + +"Jethro Bass told you this!" he cried out. + +"No," Cynthia answered, not in the least surprised by the admission, +"he did not tell me--but he will if I ask him. I guessed it from your +letter. I heard that he had come back to-day, and I went to Coniston to +see him, and he told me--he had been defeated." + +Tears came into her eyes at the remembrance of the scene in the tannery +house that afternoon, and she knew now why Jethro's face had worn that +look of peace. He had made his supreme sacrifice--for her. No, he had +told her nothing, and she might never have known. She sat thinking of +the magnitude of this thing Jethro had done, and she ceased to speak, and +the tears coursed down her cheeks unheeded. + +Isaac Worthington had a habit of clutching things when he was in a rage, +and now he clutched the arms of the chair. He had grown white. He was +furious with her, furious with himself for having spoken that which might +be construed into a confession. He had not finished writing the letters +before he had stood self-justified, and he had been self-justified ever +since. Where now were these arguments so wonderfully plausible? Where +were the refutations which he had made ready in case of a barely possible +need? He had gone into the Pelican House intending to tell Jethro of his +determination to agree to the marriage. That was one. He had done so-- +that was another--and he had written the letters that Jethro might be +convinced of his good will. There were still more, involving Jethro's +character for veracity and other things. Summoning these, he waited for +Cynthia to have done speaking, but when she had finished--he said nothing. +He looked a her, and saw the tears on her face, and he saw that she had +completely forgotten his presence. + +For the life of him, Isaac Worthington could not utter a word. He was a +man, as we know, who did not talk idly, and he knew that Cynthia would +not hear what he said; and arguments and denunciations lose their effect +when repeated. Again, he knew that she would not believe him. Never in +his life had Isaac Worthington been so ignored, so put to shame, as by +this school-teacher of Brampton. Before, self-esteem and sophistry had +always carried him off between them; sometimes, in truth, with a wound-- +the wound had always healed. But he had a feeling, to-night, that this +woman had glanced into his soul, and had turned away from it. As he +looked at her the texture of his anger changed; he forgot for the first +time that which he had been pleased to think of as her position in life, +and he feared her. He had matched his spirit against hers. + +Before long the situation became intolerable to him, for Cynthia still +sat silent. She was thinking of how she had blamed Jethro for going back +to that life, even though his love for her had made him do it. But Isaac +Worthington did not know of what she was thinking--he thought only of +himself and his predicament. He could not remain, and yet he could not +go--with dignity. He who had come to bestow could not depart like a +whipped dog. + +Suddenly a fear transfixed him: suppose that this woman, from whom he +could not hide the truth, should tell his son what he had done. Bob +would believe her. Could he, Isaac Worthington, humble his pride and ask +her to keep her suspicions to herself? He would then be acknowledging +that they were more than suspicions. If he did so, he would have to +appear to forgive her in spite of what she had said to him. And Bob was +coming home. Could he tell Bob that he had changed his mind and +withdrawn his consent to the marriage? There world be the reason, and +again Bob would believe her. And again, if he withdrew his consent, +there was Jethro to reckon with. Jethro must have a weapon still, Mr. +Worthington thought, although he could not imagine what it might be. As +Isaac Worthington sat there, thinking, it grew clear, to him at last that +there was but one exit out of a, very desperate situation. + +He glanced at Cynthia again, this time appraisingly. She had dried her +eyes, but she made no effort to speak. After all, she would make such a +wife for his son as few men possessed. He thought of Sarah Hollingsworth. +She had been a good woman, but there had been many times when he had +deplored--especially in his travels the lack of other qualities in his wife. +Cynthia, he thought, had these qualities,--so necessary for the wife of one +who would succeed to power--though whence she had got them Isaac Worthington +could not imagine. She would become a personage; she was a woman of whom +they had no need to be ashamed at home or abroad. Having completed these +reflections, he broke the silence. + +"I am sorry that you should have been misled into thinking such a thing +as you have expressed, Cynthia," he said, "but I believe that I can +understand something of the feelings which prompted you. It is natural +that you should have a resentment against me after everything that has +happened. It is perhaps natural, too, that I should lose my temper under +the circumstances. Let us forget it. And I trust that in the future we +shall grow into the mutual respect and affection which our nearer +relationship will demand." + +He rose, and took up his hat, and Cynthia rose too. There was something +very fine, he thought, about her carriage and expression as she stood in +front of him. + +"There is my hand," he said,--"will you take it?" + +"I will take it," Cynthia answered, "because you are Bob's father." + +And then Mr. Worthington went away. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +I am able to cite one notable instance, at least, to disprove the saying +a part of which is written above, and I have yet to hear of a case in +which a gentleman ever hesitated a single instant on account of the first +letter of a lady's last name. I know, indeed, of an occasion when +locomotives could not go fast enough, when thirty miles an hour seemed a +snail's pace to a young main who sat by the open window of a train that +crept northward on a certain hazy September morning up the beautiful +valley of a broad river which we know. + +It was after three o'clock before he caught sight of the familiar crest +of Farewell Mountain, and the train ran into Harwich. How glad he was to +see everybody there, whether he knew them or not! He came near hugging +the conductor of the Truro accommodation; who, needless to say, did not +ask him for a ticket, or even a pass. And then the young man went +forward and almost shook the arms off of the engineer and the fireman, +and climbed into the cab, and actually drove the engine himself as far as +Brampton, where it arrived somewhat ahead of schedule, having taken some +of the curves and bridges at a speed a little beyond the law. The +engineer was richer by five dollars, and the son of a railroad president +is a privileged character, anyway. + +Yes, here was Brampton, and in spite of the haze the sun had never shone +so brightly on the terraced steeple of the meeting-house. He leaped out +of the cab almost before the engine had stopped, and beamed upon +everybody on the platform,--even upon Mr. Dodd, who chanced to be there. +In a twinkling the young man is in Mr. Sherman's hack, and Mr. Sherman +galloping his horse down Brampton Street, the young man with his head out +of the window, smiling; grinning would be a better word. Here are the +iron mastiffs, and they seem to be grinning, too. The young man flings +open the carriage door and leaps out, and the door is almost broken from +its hinges by the maple tree. He rushes up the steps and through the +hall, and into the library, where the first citizen and his seneschal are +sitting. + +Hello, Father, you see I didn't waste any time," he cried; grasping his +father's hand in a grip that made Mr. Worthington wince. "Well, you are +a trump, after all. We're both a little hot-headed, I guess, and do +things we're sorry for,--but that's all over now, isn't it? I'm sorry. +I might have known you'd come round when you found out for yourself what +kind of a girl Cynthia was. Did you ever see anybody like her?" + +Mr. Flint turned his back, and started to walk out of the room. + +"Don't go, Flint, old boy," Bob called out, seizing Mr. Flint's hand, +too. "I can't stay but a minute, now. How are you?" + +"All right, Bob," answered Mr. Flint, with a curious, kindly look in his +eyes that was not often there. "I'm glad to see you home. I have to go +to the bank." + +"Well, Father," said Bob, "school must be out, and I imagine you know +where I'm going. I just thought I'd stop in to--to thank you, and get a +benediction." + +I am very happy to have you back, Robert," replied Mr. Worthington, and +it was true. It would have been strange indeed if some tremor of +sentiment had not been in his voice and some gleam of pride in his eye as +he looked upon his son. + +"So you saw her, and couldn't resist her," said Bob. "Wasn't that how it +happened?" + +Mr. Worthington sat down again at the desk, and his hand began to stray +among the papers. He was thinking of Mr. Flint's exit. + +"I do not arrive at my decisions quite in that way, Robert," he answered. + +"But you have seen her?" + +"Yes, I have seen her." + +There was a hesitation, an uneasiness in his father's tone for which Bob +could not account, and which he attributed to emotion. He did not guess +that this hour of supreme joy could hold for Isaac Worthington another +sensation. + +"Isn't she the finest girl in the world?" he demanded. "How does she +seem? How does she look?" + +"She looks extremely well," said Mr. Worthington, who had now schooled +his voice. "In fact, I am quite ready to admit that Cynthia Wetherell +possesses the qualifications necessary for your wife. If she had not, +I should never have written you." + +Bob walked to the window. + +"Father;" he said, speaking with a little difficulty, "I can't tell you +how much I appreciate your--your coming round. I wanted to do the right +thing, but I just couldn't give up such a girl as that." + +"We shall let bygones be bygones, Robert," answered Mr. Worthington, +clearing his throat. + +"She never would have me without your consent. By the way," he cried, +turning suddenly, "did she say she'd have me now?" + +"I believe," said Mr. Worthington, clearing his throat again, "I believe +she reserved her decision." + +"I must be off," said Bob, "she goes to Coniston on Fridays. I'll drive +her out. Good-by, Father." + +He flew out of the room, ran into Mrs. Holden, whom he astonished by +saluting on the cheek, and astonished even more by asking her to tell +Silas to drive his black horses to Gabriel Post's house--as the cottage +was still known in Brampton. And having hastily removed some of the +cinders, he flew out of the door and reached the park-like space in the +middle of Brampton Street. Then he tried to walk decorously, but it was +hard work. What if she should not be in? + +The door and windows of the little house were open that balmy afternoon, +and the bees were buzzing among the flowers which Cynthia had planted on +either side of the step. Bob went up the path, and caught a glimpse of +her through the entry standing in the sitting room. She was, indeed, +waiting for the Coniston stage, and she did not see him. Shall I destroy +the mental image of the reader who has known her so long by trying to +tell what she looked like? Some heroines grow thin and worn by the +troubles which they are forced to go through. Cynthia was not this kind +of a heroine. She was neither tall nor short, and the dark blue gown +which she wore set off (so Bob thought) the curves of her figure to +perfection. Her face had become a little more grave--yes, and more +noble; and the eyes and mouth had an indescribable, womanly sweetness. + +He stood for a moment outside the doorway gazing at her; hesitating to +desecrate that revery, which seemed to him to have a touch of sadness in +it. And then she turned her head, slowly, and saw him, and her lips +parted, and a startled look came into her eyes, but she did not move. He +came quickly into the room and stopped again, quivering from head to foot +with the passion which the sight of her never failed to unloose within +him. Still she did not speak, but her lip trembled, and the love leaping +in his eyes kindled a yearning in hers,--a yearning she was powerless to +resist. He may by that strange power have drawn her toward him--he never +knew. Neither of them could have given evidence on that marvellous +instant when the current bridged the space between them. He could not +say whether this woman whom he had seized by force before had shown alike +vitality in her surrender. He only knew that her arms were woven about +his neck, and that the kiss of which he had dreamed was again on his +lips, and that he felt once more her wonderful, supple body pressed +against his, and her heart beating, and her breast heaving. And he knew +that the strength of the love in her which he had gained was beyond +estimation. + +Thus for a time they swung together in ethereal space, breathless with +the motion of their flight. The duration of such moments is--in words-- +limitless. Now he held her against him, and again he held her away that +his eyes might feast upon hers until she dropped her lashes and the +crimson tide flooded into her face and she hid it again in the refuge she +had longed for,--murmuring his name. But at last, startled by some sound +without and so brought back to earth, she led him gently to the window at +the side and looked up at him searchingly. He was tanned no longer. + +"I was afraid you had been working too hard," she said. + +"So you do love me?" was Bob's answer to this remark. + +Cynthia smiled at him with her eyes: gravely, if such a thing may be said +of a smile. + +"Bob, how can you ask?" + +"Oh, Cynthia," he cried, "if you knew what I have been through, you +wouldn't have held out, I know it. I began to think I should never have +you." + +"But you have me now," she said, and was silent. + +"Why do you look like that?" he asked. + +She smiled up at him again. + +"I, too, have suffered, Bob," she said. "And I have thought of you night +and day." + +"God bless you, sweetheart," he cried, and kissed her again,--many times. +"It's all right now, isn't it? I knew my father would give his consent +when he found out what you were." + +The expression of pain which had troubled him crossed her face again, and +she put her hand on his shoulder. + +"Listen, dearest," she said, "I love you. I am doing this for you. You +must understand that." + +"Why, yes, Cynthia, I understand it--of course I do," he answered, +perplexed. "I understand it, but I don't deserve it." + +"I want you to know," she continued in a low voice, "that I should have +married you anyway. I--I could not have helped it." + +"Cynthia!" + +"If you were to go back to the locomotive works' tomorrow, I would marry +you." + +"On ninety dollars a month?" exclaimed Bob. + +"If you wanted me," she said. + +"Wanted you! I could live in a log cabin with you the rest of my life." + +She drew down his face to hers, and kissed him. + +"But I wished you to be reconciled with your father," she said; "I could +not bear to come between you. You--you are reconciled, aren't you?" + +"Indeed, we are," he said. + +"I am glad, Bob," she answered simply. "I should not have been happy if +I had driven you away from the place where you should be, which is your +home." + +"Wherever you are will be my home; sweetheart," he said, and pressed her +to him once more. + +At length, looking past his shoulder into the street, she saw Lem +Hallowell pulling up the Brampton stage before the door. + +"Bob," she said, "I must go to Coniston and see Uncle Jethro. I promised +him." + +Bob's answer was to walk into the entry, where he stood waving the most +joyous of greetings at the surprised stage driver. + +"I guess you won't get anybody here, Lem," he called out. + +"But, Bob," protested Cynthia, from within, afraid to show her face just +then, "I have to go, I promised. And--and I want to go," she added when +he turned. + +"I'm running a stage to Coniston to-day myself, Lem, said he "and I'm +going to steal your best passenger." + +Lemuel immediately flung down his reins and jumped out of the stage and +came up the path and into the entry, where he stood confronting Cynthia. + +"Hev you took him, Cynthy?" he demanded. + +"Yes, Lem," she answered, "won't you congratulate me?" + +The warm-hearted stage driver did congratulate her in a most unmistakable +manner. + +"I think a sight of her, Bob," he said after he had shaken both of Bob's +hands and brushed his own eyes with his coat sleeve. "I've knowed her so +long--" Whereupon utterance failed him, and he ran down the path and +jumped into his stage again and drove off. + +And then Cynthia sent Bob on an errand--not a very long one, and while he +was gone, she sat down at the table and tried to realize her happiness, +and failed. In less than ten minutes Bob had come back with Cousin +Ephraim, as fast as he could hobble. He flung his arms around her, stick +and all, and he was crying. It is a fact that old soldiers sometimes +cry. But his tears did not choke his utterance. + +"Great Tecumseh!" said Cousin Ephraim, "so you've went and done it, +Cynthy. Siege got a little mite too hot. I callated she'd capitulate in +the end, but she held out uncommon long." + +"That she did," exclaimed Bob, feelingly. + +"I--I was tellin' Bob I hain't got nothin' against him," continued +Ephraim. + +"Oh,, Cousin Eph," said Cynthia, laughing in spite of herself, and +glancing at Bob, "is that all you can say?" + +"Cousin Eph's all right," said Bob, laughing too. "We understand each +other." + +"Callate we do," answered Ephraim. "I'll go so far as to say there +hain't nobody I'd ruther see you marry. Guess I'll hev to go back to the +kit, now. What's to become of the old pensioner, Cynthy?" + +"The old pensioner needn't worry," said Cynthia., + +Then drove up Silas the Silent, with Bob's buggy and his black trotters. +All of Brampton might see them now; and all of Brampton did see them. +Silas got out,--his presence not being required,--and Cynthia was helped +in, and Bob got in beside her, and away they went, leaving Ephraim waving +his stick after them from the doorstep. + +It is recorded against the black trotters that they made very poor time +to Coniston that day, though I cannot discover that either of them was +lame. Lem Hallowell, who was there nearly an hour ahead of them, +declares that the off horse had a bunch of branches in his mouth. +Perhaps Bob held them in on account of the scenery that September +afternoon. Incomparable scenery! I doubt if two lovers of the +renaissance ever wandered through a more wondrous realm of pleasance-- +to quote the words of the poet. Spots in it are like a park, laid out by +that peerless landscape gardener, nature: dark, symmetrical pine trees on +the sward, and maples in the fulness of their leaf, and great oaks on the +hillsides, and, coppices; and beyond, the mountain, the evergreens massed +like cloud-shadows on its slopes; and all-trees and coppice and mountain +--flattened by the haze until they seemed woven in the softest of blues +and blue greens into one exquisite picture of an ancient tapestry. +I, myself, have seen these pictures in that country, and marvelled. + +So they drove on through that realm, which was to be their realm, and +came all too soon to Coniston green. Lem Hallowell had spread the well- +nigh incredible news, that Cynthia Wetherell was to marry the son of the +mill-owner and railroad president of Brampton, and it seemed to Cynthia +that every man and woman and child of the village was gathered at the +store. Although she loved them, every one, she whispered something to +Bob when she caught sight of that group on the platform, and he spoke to +the trotters. Thus it happened that they flew by, and were at the +tannery house before they knew it; and Cynthia, all unaided, sprang out +of the buggy and ran in, alone. She found Jethro sitting outside of the +kitchen door with a volume on his knee, and she saw that the print of it +was large, and she knew that the book was "Robinson Crusoe." + +Cynthia knelt down on the grass beside him and caught his hands in hers. + +"Uncle Jethro," she said, "I am going to marry Bob Worthington." + +"Yes, Cynthy," he answered. And taking the initiative for the first time +in his life, he stooped down and kissed her. + +"I knew--you would be happy--in my happiness," she said, the tears +brimming in her eyes. + +"N-never have been so happy, Cynthy,--never have." + +"Uncle Jethro, I never will desert you. I shall always take care of +you." + +"R-read to me sometimes, Cynthy--r-read to me?" + +But she could not answer him. She was sobbing on the pages of that book +he had given her--long ago. + +I like to dwell on happiness, and I am reluctant to leave these people +whom I have grown to love. Jethro Bass lived to take Cynthia's children +down by the brook and to show them the pictures, at least, in that +wonderful edition of "Robinson Crusoe." He would never depart from the +tannery house, but Cynthia went to him there, many times a week. There +is a spot not far from the Coniston road, and five miles distant alike +from Brampton and Coniston, where Bob Worthington built his house, and +where he and Cynthia dwelt many years; and they go there to this day, in +the summer-time. It stands in the midst of broad lands, and the ground +in front of it slopes down to Coniston Water, artificially widened here +by a stone dam into a little lake. From the balcony of the summer-house +which overhangs the lake there is a wonderful view of Coniston Mountain, +and Cynthia Worthington often sits there with her sewing or her book, +listening to the laughter of her children, and thinking, sometimes, of +bygone days. + + + + +AFTERWORD + +The reality of the foregoing pages has to the author, at least, become so +vivid that he regrets the necessity of having to add an afterword. Every +novel is, to some extent, a compound of truth and fiction, and he has +done his best to picture conditions as they were, and to make the spirit +of his book true. Certain people who were living in St. Louis during the +Civil War have been mentioned as the originals of characters in "The +Crisis," and there are houses in that city which have been pointed out as +fitting descriptions in that novel. An author has, frequently, people, +houses, and localities in mind when he writes; but he changes them, +sometimes very materially, in the process of literary construction. + +It is inevitable, perhaps, that many people of a certain New England +state will recognize Jethro Bass. There are different opinions extant +concerning the remarkable original of this character; ardent defenders +and detractors of his are still living, but all agree that he was a +strange man of great power. The author disclaims any intention of +writing a biography of him. Some of the things set down in this book he +did, and others he did not do. Some of the anecdotes here related +concerning him are, in the main, true, and for this material the author +acknowledges his indebtedness particularly to Colonel Thomas B. Cheney +of Ashland, New Hampshire, and to other friends who have helped him. +Jethro Bass was typical of his Era, and it is of the Era that this book +attempts to treat. + +Concerning the locality where Jethro Bass was born and lived, it will and +will not be recognized. It would have been the extreme of bad taste to +have put into these pages any portraits which might have offended +families or individuals, and in order that it may be known that the +author has not done so he has written this Afterword. Nor has he +particularly chosen for the field of this novel a state of which he is a +citizen, and for which he has a sincere affection. The conditions here +depicted, while retaining the characteristics of the locality, he +believes to be typical of the Era over a large part of the United States. + +Many of the Puritans who came to New England were impelled to emigrate +from the old country, no doubt, by an aversion to pulling the forelock as +well as by religious principles, and the spirit of these men prevailed +for a certain time after the Revolution was fought. Such men lived and +ruled in Coniston before the rise of Jethro Bass. + +Self-examination is necessary for the moral health of nations as well as +men, and it is the most hopeful of signs that in the United States we are +to-day going through a period of self-examination. + +We shall do well to ascertain the causes which have led us gradually to +stray from the political principles laid down by our forefathers for all +the world to see. Some of us do not even know what those principles +were. I have met many intelligent men, in different states of the Union, +who could not even repeat the names of the senators who sat for them in +Congress. Macaulay said, in 1852, "We now know, by the clearest of all +proof, that universal suffrage, even united with secret voting, is no +security, against the establishment of arbitrary power." To quote James +Russell Lowell, writing a little later: "We have begun obscurely to +recognize that . . . popular government is not in itself a panacea, is no +better than any other form except as the virtue and wisdom of the people +make it so." + +As Americans, we cannot but believe that our political creed goes down in +its foundations to the solid rock of truth. One of the best reasons for +our belief lies in the fact that, since 1776, government after government +has imitated our example. We have, by our very existence and rise to +power, made any decided retrogression from these doctrines impossible. +So many people have tried to rule themselves, and are still trying, that +one begins to believe that the time is not far distant when the United +States, once the most radical, will become the most conservative of +nations. + +Thus the duty rests to-day, more heavily than ever, upon each American +citizen to make good to the world those principles upon which his +government was built. To use a figure suggested by the calamity which +has lately befallen one of the most beloved of our cities, there is a +theory that earthquakes are caused by a necessary movement on the part of +the globe to regain its axis. Whether or not the theory be true, it has +its political application. In America to-day we are trying--whatever the +cost--to regain the true axis established for us by the founders of our +Republic. + +HARLAKENDEN HOUSE, May 7, 1906. + + + + + +End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of Coniston, V4 +by Winston Churchill + diff --git a/old/wc17v10.zip b/old/wc17v10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..070cc38 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/wc17v10.zip diff --git a/old/wc17v11.txt b/old/wc17v11.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f1c93a3 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/wc17v11.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6546 @@ +The Project Gutenberg Etext of Coniston, by Winston Churchill, v4 +#17 in our series by this Winston Churchill + +This author is a cousin of Sir Winston Churchill the Prime Minister + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the laws for your country before redistributing these files!!!!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. + +Please do not remove this. + +This should be the first thing seen when anyone opens the book. +Do not change or edit it without written permission. 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Life had made a woman of her long ago, while +these girls had yet been in short dresses, and now an experience had come +to her which few, if any, of these could ever know. It was of no use for +her to deny to herself that she loved Bob Worthington--loved him with the +full intensity of the strong nature that was hers. To how many of these +girls would come such a love? and how many would be called upon to make +such a renunciation as hers had been? No wonder she felt out of place +among them, and once more the longing to fly away to Coniston almost +overcame her. Jethro would forgive her, she knew, and stretch out his +arms to receive her, and understand that some trouble had driven her to +him. + +She was aroused by some one calling her name--some one whose voice +sounded strangely familiar. Cynthia was perhaps the only person in the +school that day who did not know that Miss Janet Duncan had entered it. +Miss Sadler certainly knew it, and asked Miss Duncan very particularly +about her father and mother and even her brother. Miss Sadler knew, even +before Janet's unexpected arrival, that Mr. and Mrs. Duncan had come to +Boston after Christmas, and had taken a large house in the Back Bay in +order to be near their son at Harvard. Mrs. Duncan was, in fact, a +Bostonian, and more at home there than at any other place. + +Miss Sadler observed with a great deal of astonishment the warm embrace +that Janet bestowed on Cynthia. The occurrence started in Miss Sadler a +train of thought, as a result of which she left the drawing-room where +these reunions were held, and went into her own private study to write a +note. This she addressed to Mrs. Alexander Duncan, at a certain number +on Beacon Street, and sent it out to be posted immediately. In the +meantime, Janet Duncan had seated herself on the sofa beside Cynthia, not +having for an instant ceased to talk to her. Of what use to write a +romance, when they unfolded themselves so beautifully in real life! Here +was the country girl she had seen in Washington already in a fine way to +become the princess, and in four months! Janet would not have thought it +possible for any one to change so much in such a time. Cynthia listened, +and wondered what language Miss Duncan would use if she knew how great +and how complete that change had been. Romances, Cynthia thought sadly, +were one thing to theorize about and quite another thing to endure--and +smiled at the thought. But Miss Duncan had no use for a heroine without +a heartache. + +It is not improbable that Miss Janet Duncan may appear with Miss Sally +Broke in another volume. The style of her conversation is known, and +there is no room to reproduce it here. She, too, had a heart, but she +was a young woman given to infatuations, as Cynthia rightly guessed. +Cynthia must spend many afternoons at her house--lunch with her, drive +with her. For one omission Cynthia was thankful: she did not mention Bob +Worthington's name. There was the romance under Miss Duncan's nose, and +she did not see it. It is frequently so with romancers. + +Cynthia's impassiveness, her complete poise, had fascinated Miss Duncan +with the others. Had there been nothing beneath that exterior, Janet +would never have guessed it, and she would have been quite as happy. +Cynthia saw very clearly that Mr. Worthington or no other man or woman +could force Bob to marry Janet. + +The next morning, in such intervals as her studies permitted, Janet +continued her attentions to Cynthia. That same morning she had brought a +note from her father to Miss Sadler, of the contents of which Janet knew +nothing. Miss Sadler retired into her study to read it, and two +newspaper clippings fell out of it under the paper-cutter. This was the +note:-- + + "My DEAR MISS SADLER: + + Mrs. Duncan has referred your note to me, and I enclose two + clippings which speak for themselves. Miss Wetherell, I believe, + stands in the relation of ward to the person to whom they refer, and + her father was a sort of political assistant to this person. + Although, as you say, we are from that part of the country" (Miss + Sadler bad spoken of the Duncans as the people of importance there), + "it was by the merest accident that Miss Wetherell's connection with + this Jethro Bass was brought to my notice. + + Sincerely yours, + + "ALEXANDER DUNCAN." + +It is pleasant to know that there were people in the world who could snub +Miss Sadler; and there could be no doubt, from the manner in which she +laid the letter down and took up the clippings, that Miss Sadler felt +snubbed: equally, there could be no doubt that the revenge would fall on +other shoulders than Mr. Duncan's. And when Miss Sadler proceeded to +read the clippings, her hair would have stood on end with horror had it +not been so efficiently plastered down. Miss Sadler seized her pen, and +began a letter to Mrs. Merrill. Miss Sadler's knowledge of the +proprieties--together with other qualifications--had made her school what +it was. No Cynthia Wetherells had ever before entered its sacred +portals, or should again. + +The first of these clippings was the article containing the arraignment +of Jethro Bass which Mr. Merrill had shown to his wife, and which had +been the excuse for Miss Penniman's call. The second was one which Mr. +Duncan had clipped from the Newcastle Guardian of the day before, and +gave, from Mr. Worthington's side, a very graphic account of the conflict +which was to tear the state asunder. The railroads were tired of paying +toll to the chief of a band of thieves and cutthroats, to a man who had +long throttled the state which had nourished him, to--in short,--to +Jethro Bass. Miss Sadler was not much interested in the figures and +metaphors of political compositions. Right had found a champion--the +article continued--in Mr. Isaac D. Worthington of Brampton, president of +the Truro Road and owner of large holdings elsewhere. Mr. Worthington, +backed by other respectable property interests, would fight this monster +of iniquity to the death, and release the state from his thraldom. +Jethro Bass, the article alleged, was already about his abominable work-- +had long been so--as in mockery of that very vigilance which is said to +be the price of liberty. His agents were busy in every town of the +state, seeing to it that the slaves of Jethro Bass should be sent to the +next legislature. + +And what was this system which he had built up among these rural +communities? It might aptly be called the System of Mortgages. The +mortgage--dread name for a dreadful thing--was the chief weapon of the +monster. Even as Jethro Bass held the mortgages of Coniston and Tarleton +and round about, so his lieutenants held mortgages in every town and +hamlet of the state, What was a poor farmer to do--? His choice was not +between right and wrong, but between a roof over the heads of his wife +and children and no roof. He must vote for the candidate of Jethro Bass +end corruption or become a homeless wanderer. How the gentleman and his +other respectable backers were to fight the system the article did not +say. Were they to buy up all the mortgages? As a matter of fact, they +intended to buy up enough of these to count, but to mention this would be +to betray the methods of Mr. Worthington's reform. The first bitter +frontier fighting between the advance cohorts of the new giant and the +old--the struggle for the caucuses and the polls--had begun. Miss Sadler +cared but little and understood less of all this matter. She lingered +over the sentences which described Jethro Bass as a monster of iniquity, +as a pariah with whom decent men would have no intercourse, and in the +heat of her passion that one who had touched him had gained admittance to +the most exclusive school for young ladies in the country she wrote a +letter. + +Miss Sadler wrote the letter, and three hours later tore it up and wrote +another and more diplomatic one. Mrs. Merrill, though not by any means +of the same importance as Mrs. Duncan, was not a person to be wantonly +offended, and might--knowing nothing about the monster--in the goodness +of her heart have taken the girl into her house. Had it been otherwise, +surely Mrs. Merrill would not have had the effrontery! She would give +Mrs. Merrill a chance. The bell of release from studies was ringing as +she finished this second letter, and Miss Sadler in her haste forgot to +enclose the clippings. She ran out in time to intercept Susan Merrill at +the door, and to press into her hands the clippings and the note, with a +request to take both to her mother. + +Although the Duncans dined in the evening, the Merrills had dinner at +half-past one in the afternoon, when the girls returned from school. +Mr. Merrill usually came home, but he had gone off somewhere for this +particular day, and Mrs. Merrill had a sewing circle. The girls sat +down to dinner alone. When they got up from the table, Susan suddenly +remembered the note which she had left in her coat pocket. She drew out +the clippings with it. + +"I wonder what Miss Sadler is sending mamma clippings for," she said. +"Why, Cynthia, they're about your uncle. Look!" + +And she handed over the article headed "Jethro Bass." Jane, who had +quicker intuitions than her sister, would have snatched it from Cynthia's +hand, and it was a long time before Susan forgave herself for her folly. +Thus Miss Sadler had her revenge. + +It is often mercifully ordained that the mightiest blows of misfortune +are tempered for us. During the winter evenings in Coniston, Cynthia had +read little newspaper attacks on Jethro, and scorned them as the cowardly +devices of enemies. They had been, indeed, but guarded and covert +allusions--grimaces from a safe distance. Cynthia's first sensation as +she read was anger--anger so intense as to send all the blood in her body +rushing to her head. But what was this? "Right had found a champion at +last" in--in Isaac D. Worthington! That was the first blow, and none but +Cynthia knew the weight of it. It sank but slowly into her +consciousness, and slowly the blood left her face, slowly but surely: +left it at length as white as the lace curtain of the window which she +clutched in her distress. Words which somebody had spoken were ringing +in her ears. Whatever happens! "Whatever happens I will never desert +you, never deny you, as long as I live." This, then, was what he had +meant by newspapers, and why he had come to her! + +The sisters, watching her, cried out in dismay. There was no need to +tell them that they were looking on at a tragedy, and all the love and +sympathy in their hearts went out to her. + +"Cynthia! Cynthia! What is it?" cried Susan, who, thinking she would +faint, seized her in her arms. "What have I done?" + +Cynthia did not faint, being made of sterner substance. Gently, but with +that inexorable instinct of her kind which compels them to look for +reliance within themselves even in the direst of extremities, Cynthia +released herself from Susan's embrace and put a hand to her forehead. + +"Will you leave me here a little while--alone?" she said. + +It was Jane now who drew Susan out and shut the door of the parlor after +them. In utter misery they waited on the stairs while Cynthia fought out +her battle for herself. + +When they were gone she sank down into the big chair under the reading +lamp--the very chair in which he had sat only two nights before. She saw +now with a terrible clearness the thing which for so long had been but a +vague premonition of disaster, and for a while she forgot the clippings. +And when after a space the touch of them in her hand brought them back to +her remembrance, she lacked the courage to read them through. But not +for long. Suddenly her fear of them gave place to a consuming hatred of +the man who had inspired these articles: of Isaac D. Worthington, for she +knew that he must have inspired them. And then she began again to read +them. + +Truth, though it come perverted from the mouth of an enemy, has in itself +a note to which the soul responds, let the mind deny as vehemently as it +will. Cynthia read, and as she read her body was shaken with sobs, +though the tears came not. Could it be true? Could the least particle +of the least of these fearful insinuations be true? Oh, the treason of +those whispers in a voice that was surely not her own, and yet which she +could not hush! Was it possible that such things could be printed about +one whom she had admired and respected above all men--nay, whom she had +so passionately adored from childhood? A monster of iniquity, a pariah! +The cruel, bitter calumny of those names! Cynthia thought of his +goodness and loving kindness and his charity to her and to many others. +His charity! The dreaded voice repeated that word, and sent a thought +that struck terror into her heart: Whence had come the substance of that +charity? Then came another word--mortgage. There it was on the paper, +and at sight of it there leaped out of her memory a golden-green poplar +shimmering against the sky and the distant blue billows of mountains in +the west. She heard the high-pitched voice of a woman speaking the word, +and even then it had had a hateful sound, and she heard herself asking, +"Uncle Jethro, what is a mortgage?" He had struck his horse with the +whip. + +Loyal though the girl was, the whispers would not hush, nor the doubts +cease to assail her. What if ever so small a portion of this were true? +Could the whole of this hideous structure, tier resting upon tier, have +been reared without something of a foundation? Fiercely though she told +herself she would believe none of it, fiercely though she hated Mr. +Worthington, fervently though she repeated aloud that her love for Jethro +and her faith in him had not changed, the doubts remained. Yet they +remained unacknowledged. + +An hour passed. It was a thing beyond belief that one hour could have +held such a store of agony. An hour passed, and Cynthia came dry-eyed +from the parlor. Susan and Jane, waiting to give her comfort when she +was recovered a little from this unknown but overwhelming affliction, +were fain to stand mute when they saw her to pay a silent deference to +one whom sorrow had lifted far above them and transfigured. That was the +look on Cynthia's face. She went up the stairs, and they stood in the +hall not knowing what to do, whispering in awe-struck voices. They were +still there when Cynthia came down again, dressed for the street. Jane +seized her by the hand. + +"Where are you going, Cynthia?" she asked. + +"I shall be back by five," said Cynthia. + +She went up the hill, and across to old Louisburg Square, and up the hill +again. The weather had cleared, the violet-paned windows caught the +slanting sunlight and flung it back across the piles of snow. It was a +day for wedding-bells. At last Cynthia came to a queerly fashioned +little green door that seemed all askew with the slanting street, and +rang the bell, and in another moment was standing on the threshold of +Miss Lucretia Penniman's little sitting room. To Miss Lucretia, at her +writing table, one glance was sufficient. She rose quickly to meet the +girl, kissed her unresponsive cheek, and led her to a chair. Miss +Lucretia was never one to beat about the bush, even in the gravest +crisis. + +"You have read the articles," she said. + +Read them! During her walk hither Cynthia had been incapable of thought, +but the epithets and arraignments and accusations, the sentences and +paragraphs, wars printed now, upon her brain, never, she believed, to be +effaced. Every step of the way she had been unconsciously repeating +them. + +"Have you read them?" asked Cynthia. + +"Yes, my dear." + +"Has everybody read them?" Did the whole world, then, know of her shame? + +"I am glad you came to me, my dear," said Miss Lucretia, taking her hand. +"Have you talked of this to any one else?" + +"No," said Cynthia, simply. + +Miss Lucretia was puzzled. She had not looked for apathy, but she did +not know all of Cynthia's troubles. She wondered whether she had +misjudged the girl, and was misled by her attitude. + +"Cynthia," she said, with a briskness meant to hide emotion for Miss +Lucretia had emotions, "I am a lonely old woman, getting too old, indeed, +to finish the task of my life. I went to see Mrs. Merrill the other day +to ask her if she would let you come and live with me. Will you?" + +Cynthia shook her head. + +"No, Miss Lucretia, I cannot," she answered. + +"I won't press it on you now," said Miss Lucretia. + +"I cannot, Miss Lucretia. I'm going to Coniston." + +"Going to Coniston!" exclaimed Miss Lucretia. + +The name of that place--magic name, once so replete with visions of +happiness and content--seemed to recall Cynthia's spirit from its flight. +Yes, the spirit was there, for it flashed in her eyes as she turned and +looked into Miss Lucretia's face. + +"Are these the articles you read?" she asked; taking the clippings from +her muff. + +Miss Lucretia put on her spectacles. + +"I have seen both of them," she said. + +"And do you believe what they say about--about Jethro Bass?" + +Poor Miss Lucretia! For once in her life she was at a loss. She, too, +paid a deference to that face, young as it was. She had robbed herself +of sleep trying to make up her mind what she would say upon such an +occasion if it came. A wonderful virgin faith had to be shattered, and +was she to be the executioner? She loved the girl with that strange, +intense affection which sometimes comes to the elderly and the lonely, +and she had prayed that this cup might pass from her. Was it possible +that it was her own voice using very much the same words for which she +had rebuked Mrs. Merrill? + +"Cynthia," she said, "those articles were written by politicians, in a +political controversy. No such articles can ever be taken literally." + +"Miss Lucretia, do you believe what it says about Jethro Bass?" repeated +Cynthia. + +How was she to avoid those eyes? They pierced into, her soul, even as +her own had pierced into Mrs. Merrill's. Oh, Miss Lucretia, who pride +yourself on your plain speaking, that you should be caught quibbling! +Miss Lucretia blushed for the first time in many, years, and into her +face came the light of battle. + +"I am a coward, my dear. I deserve your rebuke. To the best of my +knowledge and belief, and so far as I can judge from the inquiries I have +undertaken, Jethro Bass has made his living and gained and held his power +by the methods described in those articles." + +Miss Lucretia took off her spectacles and wiped them. She had committed +a fine act of courage. + +Cynthia stood up. + +"Thank you," she said, "that is what I wanted to know." + +"But--"cried Miss Lucretia, in amazement and apprehension, "but what are +you going to do?" + +"I am going to Coniston," said Cynthia, "to ask him if those things are +true." + +"To ask him!" + +"Yes. If he tells me they are true, then I shall believe them." + +"If he tells you?" Miss Lucretia gasped. Here was a courage of which she +had not reckoned. "Do you think he will tell you?" + +"He will tell me, and I shall believe him, Miss Lucretia." + +"You are a remarkable girl, Cynthia," said Miss Lucretia, involuntarily. +Then she paused for a moment. "Suppose he tells you they are true? You +surely can't live with him again, Cynthia." + +"Do you suppose I am going to desert him, Miss Lucretia?" she asked. +"He loves me, and--and I love him." This was the first time her voice had +faltered. "He kept my father from want and poverty, and he has brought +me up as a daughter. If his life has been as you say, I shall make my +own living!" + +"How?" demanded Miss Lucretia, the practical part of her coming +uppermost. + +"I shall teach school. I believe I can get a position, in a place where +I can see him often. I can break his heart, Miss Lucretia, I--I can +bring sadness to myself, but I will not desert him." + +Miss Lucretia stared at her for a moment, not knowing what to say or do. +She perceived that the girl had a spirit as strong as her own: that her +plans were formed, her mind made up, and that no arguments could change +her. + +"Why did you come to me?" she asked irrelevantly. + +"Because I thought that you would have read the articles, and I knew if +you had, you would have taken the trouble to inform yourself of the +world's opinion." + +Again Miss Lucretia stared at her. + +"I will go to Coniston with you," she said, "at least as far as +Brampton." + +Cynthia's face softened a little at the words. + +"I would rather go alone, Miss Lucretia," she answered gently, but with +the same firmness. "I--I am very grateful to you for your kindness to me +in Boston. I shall not forget it--or you. Good-by, Miss Lucretia." + +But Miss Lucretia, sobbing openly, gathered the girl in her arms and +pressed her. Age was coming on her indeed, that she should show such +weakness. For a long time she could not trust herself to speak, and then +her words were broken. Cynthia must come to her at the first sign of +doubt or trouble: this, Miss Lucretia's house, was to be a refuge in any +storm that life might send--and Miss Lucretia's heart. Cynthia promised, +and when she went out at last through the little door her own tears were +falling, for she loved Miss Lucretia. + +Cynthia was going to Coniston. That journey was as fixed, as inevitable, +as things mortal can be. She would go to Coniston unless she perished on +the way. No loving entreaties, no fears of Mrs. Merrill or her +daughters, were of any avail. Mrs. Merrill too, was awed by the vastness +of the girl's sorrow, and wondered if her own nature were small by +comparison. She had wept, to be sure, at her husband's confession, and +lain awake over it in the night watches, and thought of the early days of +their marriage. + +And then, Mrs. Merrill told herself, Cynthia would have to talk with Mr. +Merrill. How was he to come unscathed out of that? There was pain and +bitterness in that thought, and almost resentment against Cynthia, +quivering though she was with sympathy for the girl. For Mrs. Merrill, +though the canker remained, had already pardoned her husband and had +asked the forgiveness of God for that pardon. On other occasions, in +other crisis, she had waited and watched for him in the parlor window, +and to-night she was at the door before his key was in the lock, while he +was still stamping the snow from his boots. She drew him into the room +and told him what had happened. + +"Oh, Stephen," she cried, "what are you going to say to her?" + +What, indeed? His wife had sorrowed, but she had known the obstacles and +perils by which he had been beset. But what was he to say to Cynthia? +Her very name had grown upon him, middle-aged man of affairs though he +was, until the thought of it summoned up in his mind a figure of purity, +and of the strength which was from purity. He would not have believed it +possible that the country girl whom they had taken into their house three +months before should have wrought such an influence over them all. + +Even in the first hour of her sorrow which she had spent that afternoon +in the parlor, Cynthia had thought of Mr. Merrill. He could tell her +whether those accusations were true or false, for he was a friend of +Jethro's. Her natural impulse--the primeval one of a creature which is +hurt--had been to hide herself; to fly to her own room, and perhaps by +nightfall the courage would come to her to ask him the terrible +questions. He was a friend of Jethro's. An illuminating flash revealed +to her the meaning of that friendship--if the accusations were true. It +was then she had thought of Miss Lucretia Penniman, and somehow she had +found the courage to face the sunlight and go to her. She would spare +Mr. Merrill. + +But had she spared him? Sadly the family sat down to supper without her, +and after supper Mr. Merrill sent a message to his club that he could not +attend a committee meeting there that evening. He sat with his wife in +the little writing room, he pretending to read and she pretending to sew, +until the silence grew too oppressive, and they spoke of the matter that +was in their hearts. It was one of the bitterest evenings in Mr. +Merrill's life, and there is no need to linger on it. They talked +earnestly of Cynthia, and of her future. But they both knew why she did +not come down to them. + +"So she is really going to Coniston," said Mr. Merrill. + +"Yes," answered Mrs. Merrill, "and I think she is doing right, Stephen." + +Mr. Merrill groaned. His wife rose and put her hand on his shoulder. + +"Come, Stephen," she said gently, "you will see her in the morning. + +"I will go to Coniston with her," he said. + +"No," replied Mrs. Merrily "she wants to go alone. And I believe it is +best that she should." + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +Great afflictions generally bring in their train a host of smaller +sorrows, each with its own little pang. One of these sorrows had been +the parting with the Merrill family. Under any circumstance it was not +easy for Cynthia to express her feelings, and now she had found it very +difficult to speak of the gratitude and affection which she felt. But +they understood--dear, good people that they were: no eloquence was +needed with them. The ordeal of breakfast over, and the tearful "God +bless you, Miss Cynthia," of Ellen the parlor-maid, the whole family had +gone with her to the station. For Susan and Jane had spent their last +day at Miss Sadler's school. + +Mr. Merrill had sent for the conductor and bidden him take care of Miss +Wetherell, and recommend her in his name to a conductor on the Truro +Road. The man took off his cap to Mr. Merrill and called him by name and +promised. It was a dark day, and long after the train had pulled out +Cynthia remembered the tearful faces of the family standing on the damp +platform of the station. As they fled northward through the flat river- +meadows, the conductor would have liked to talk to her of Mr. Merrill; +there were few employees on any railroad who did not know the genial and +kindly president of the Grand Gulf and sympathize with his troubles. But +there was a look on the girl's face that forbade intrusion. Passengers +stared at her covertly, as though fascinated by that look, and some tried +to fathom it. But her eyes were firmly fixed upon a point far beyond +their vision. The car stopped many times, and flew on again, but nothing +seemed to break her absorption. + +At last she was aroused by the touch of the conductor on her sleeve. The +people were beginning to file out of the car, and the train was under the +shadow of the snow-covered sheds in the station of the state capital. +Cynthia recognized the place, though it was cold and bare and very +different in appearance from what it had been on the summer's evening +when she had come into it with her father. That, in effect, had been her +first glimpse of the world, and well she recalled the thrill it had given +her. The joy of such things was gone now, the rapture of holidays and new +sights. These were over, so she told herself. Sorrow had quenched the +thrills forever. + +The kind conductor led her to the eating room, and when she would not eat +his concern drew greater than ever. He took a strange interest in this +young lady who had such a face and such eyes. He pointed her out to his +friend the Truro conductor, and gave him some sandwiches and fruit which +he himself had bought, with instructions to press them on her during the +afternoon. + +Cynthia could not eat. She hated this place, with its memories. Hated +it, too, as a mart where men were bought and sold, for the wording of +those articles ran in her head as though some priest of evil were +chanting them in her ears. She did not remember then the sweeter aspect +of the old town, its pretty homes set among their shaded gardens--homes +full of good and kindly people. State House affairs were far removed +from most of these, and the sickness and corruption of the body politic. +And this political corruption, had she known it, was no worse than that +of the other states in the wide Union: not so bad, indeed, as many, +though this was small comfort. No comfort at all to Cynthia, who did not +think of it. + +After a while she rose and followed the new conductor to the Truro train, +glad to leave the capital behind her. She was going to the hills--to the +mountains. They, in truth, could not change, though the seasons passed +over them, hot and cold, wet and dry. They were immutable in their +goodness. Presently she saw them, the lower ones: the waters of the +little stream beside her broke the black bonds of ice and raced over the +rapids; the engine was puffing and groaning on the grade. Then the sun +crept out, slowly, from the indefinable margin of vapor that hung massed +over the low country. + +Yes, she had come to the hills. Up and up climbed the train, through the +little white villages in the valley nooks, banked with whiter snow; +through the narrow gorges,--sometimes hanging over them,--under steep +granite walls seared with ice-filled cracks, their brows hung with +icicles. + +Truro Pass is not so high as the Brenner, but it has a grand, wild look +in winter, remote as it is from the haunts of men. A fitting refuge, it +might be, for a great spirit heavy with the sins of the world below. +Such a place might have been chosen, in the olden time, for a monastery-- +a gray fastness built against the black forest over the crag looking down +upon the green clumps of spruces against the snow. Some vague longing +for such a refuge was in Cynthia's heart as she gazed upon that silent +place, and then the waters had already begun to run westward--the waters +of Tumble Down brook, which flowed into Coniston Water above Brampton. +The sun still had more than two hours to go on its journey to the hill +crests when the train pulled into Brampton station. There were but a few +people on the platform, but the first face she saw as she stepped from +the car was Lem Hallowell's. It was a very red face, as we know, and its +owner was standing in front of the Coniston stage, on runners now. He +stared at her for an instant, and no wonder, and then he ran forward with +outstretched hands. + +"Cynthy--Cynthy Wetherell!" he cried. "Great Godfrey!" + +He got so far, he seized her hands, and then he stopped, not knowing why. +There were many more ejaculations and welcomes and what not on the end of +his tongue. It was not that she had become a lady--a lady of a type he +had never before seen. He meant to say that, too, in his own way, but he +couldn't. And that transformation would have bothered Lem but little. +What was the change, then? Why was he in awe of her--he, Lem Hallowell, +who had never been in awe of any one? He shook his head, as though +openly confessing his inability to answer that question. He wanted to +ask others, but they would not come. + +"Lem," she said, "I am so glad you are here." + +"Climb right in, Cynthy. I'll get the trunk." There it lay, the little +rawhide one before him on the boards, and he picked it up in his bare +hands as though it had been a paper parcel. It was a peculiarity of the +stage driver that he never wore gloves, even in winter, so remarkable was +the circulation of his blood. After the trunk he deposited, apparently +with equal ease, various barrels and boxes, and then he jumped in beside +Cynthia, and they drove down familiar Brampton Street, as wide as a wide +river; past the meeting-house with the terraced steeple; past the +postoffice,--Cousin Ephraim's postoffice,--where Lem gave her a +questioning look--but she shook her head, and he did not wait for the +distribution of the last mail that day; past the great mansion of Isaac +D. Worthington, where the iron mastiffs on the lawn were up to their +muzzles in snow. After that they took the turn to the right, which was +the road to Coniston. + +Well-remembered road, and in winter or summer, Cynthia knew every tree +and farmhouse beside it. Now it consisted of two deep grooves in the +deep snow; that was all, save for a curving turnout here and there for +team to pass team. Well-remembered scene! How often had Cynthia looked +upon it in happier days! Such a crust was on the snow as would bear a +heavy man; and the pasture hillocks were like glazed cakes in the window +of a baker's shop. Never had the western sky looked so yellow through +the black columns of the pine trunks. A lonely, beautiful road it was +that evening. + +For a long time the silence of the great hills was broken only by the +sweet jingle of the bells on the shaft. Many a day, winter and summer, +Lem had gone that road alone, whistling, and never before heeding that +silence. Now it seemed to symbolize a great sorrow: to be in subtle +harmony with that of the girl at his side. What that sorrow was he could +not guess. The good man yearned to comfort her, and yet he felt his +comfort too humble to be noticed by such sorrow. He longed to speak, but +for the first time in his life feared the sound of his own voice. +Cynthia had not spoken since she left the station, had not looked at him, +had not asked for the friends and neighbors whom she had loved so well-- +had not asked for Jethro! Was there any sorrow on earth to be felt like +that? And was there one to feel it? + +At length, when they reached the great forest, Lem Hallowell knew that he +must speak or cry aloud. But what would be the sound of his voice--after +such an age of disuse? Could he speak at all? Broken and hoarse and +hideous though the sound might be, he must speak. And hoarse and broken +it was. It was not his own, but still it was a voice. + +"Folks--folks'll be surprised to see you, Cynthy." + +No, he had not spoken at all. Yes, he had, for she answered him. + +"I suppose they will, Lem." + +"Mighty glad to have you back, Cynthy. We think a sight of you. We +missed you." + +"Thank you, Lem." + +"Jethro hain't lookin' for you by any chance, be he? + +"No," she said. But the question startled her. Suppose he had not been +at home! She had never once thought of that. Could she have borne to +wait for him? + +After that Lem gave it up. He had satisfied himself as to his vocal +powers, but he had not the courage even to whistle. The journey to +Coniston was faster in the winter, and at the next turn of the road the +little village came into view. There it was, among the snows. The pain +in Cynthia's heart, so long benumbed, quickened when she saw it. How +write of the sharpness of that pain to those who have never known it? +The sight of every gable brought its agony,--the store with the checker- +paned windows, the harness shop, the meeting-house, the white parsonage +on its little hill. Rias Richardson ran out of the store in his carpet +slippers, bareheaded in the cold, and gave one shout. Lem heeded him +not; did not stop there as usual, but drove straight to the tannery house +and pulled up under the butternut tree. Milly Skinner ran out on the +porch, and gave one long look, and cried:-- + +"Good Lord, it's Cynthy!" + +"Where's Jethro?" demanded Lem. + +Milly did not answer at once. She was staring at Cynthia. + +"He's in the tannery shed," she said, "choppin' wood." But still she +kept her eyes on Cynthia's face. "I'll fetch him." + +"No," said Cynthia, "I'll go to him there." + +She took the path, leaving Millicent with her mouth open, too amazed to +speak again, and yet not knowing why. + +In the tannery shed! Would Jethro remember what happened there almost +six and thirty years before? Would he remember how that other Cynthia +had come to him there, and what her appeal had been? + +Cynthia came to the doors. One of these was open now--both had been +closed that other evening against the storm of sleet--and she caught a +glimpse of him standing on the floor of chips and bark--tan-bark no more. +Cynthia caught a glimpse of him, and love suddenly welled up into her +heart as waters into a spring after a drought. He had not seen her, not +heard the sound of the sleigh-bells. He was standing with his foot upon +the sawbuck and the saw across his knee, he was staring at the woodpile, +and there was stamped upon his face a look which no man or woman had ever +seen there, a look of utter loneliness and desolation, a look as of a +soul condemned to wander forever through the infinite, cold spaces +between the worlds--alone. + +Cynthia stopped at sight of it. What had been her misery and affliction +compared to this? Her limbs refused her, though she knew not whether she +would have fled or rushed into his arms. How long she stood thus, and he +stood, may not be said, but at length he put down his foot and took the +saw from his knee, his eyes fell upon her, and his lips spoke her name. + +"Cynthy!" + +Speechless, she ran to him and flung her arms about his neck, and he +dropped the saw and held her tightly--even as he had held that other +Cynthia in that place in the year gone by. And yet not so. Now he clung +to her with a desperation that was terrible, as though to let go of her +would be to fall into nameless voids beyond human companionship and love. +But at last he did release her, and stood looking down into her face, as +if seeking to read a sentence there. + +And how was she to pronounce that sentence! Though her faith might be +taken away, her love remained, and grew all the greater because he needed +it. Yet she knew that no subterfuge or pretence would avail her to hide +why she had come. She could not hide it. It must be spoken out now, +though death was preferable. + +And he was waiting. Did he guess? She could not tell. He had spoken no +word but her name. He had expressed no surprise at her appearance, asked +no reasons for it. Superlatives of suffering or joy or courage are hard +to convey--words fall so far short of the feeling. And Cynthia's pain +was so far beyond tears. + +"Uncle Jethro," she said, "yesterday something--something happened. I +could not stay in Boston any longer." + +He nodded. + +"I had to come to you. I could not wait." + +He nodded again. + +"I--I read something." To take a white-hot iron and sear herself would +have been easier than this. + +"Yes," he said. + +She felt that the look was coming again--the look which she had surprised +in his face. His hands dropped lifelessly from her shoulders, and he +turned and went to the door, where he stood with his back to her, +silhouetted against the eastern sky all pink from the reflection of +sunset. He would not help her. Perhaps he could not. The things were +true. There had been a grain of hope within her, ready to sprout. + +"I read two articles from the Newcastle Guardian about you--about your +life." + +"Yes," he said. But he did not turn. + +"How you had--how you had earned your living. How you had gained your +power," she went on, her pain lending to her voice an exquisite note of +many modulations. + +"Yes--Cynthy," he said, and still stared at the eastern sky. + +She took two steps toward him, her arms outstretched, her fingers opening +and closing. And then she stopped. + +"I would believe no one," she said, "I will believe no one--until--unless +you tell me. Uncle Jethro," she cried in agony, "Uncle Jethro, tell me +that those things are not true!" + +She waited a space, but he did not stir. There was no sound, save the +song of Coniston Water under the shattered ice. + +"Won't you speak to me?" she whispered. "Won't you tell me that they are +not true?" + +His shoulders shook convulsively. O for the right to turn to her and +tell her that they were lies! He would have bartered his soul for it. +What was all the power in the world compared to this priceless treasure +he had lost? Once before he had cast it away, though without meaning to. +Then he did not know the eternal value of love--of such love as those two +women had given him. Now he knew that it was beyond value, the one +precious gift of life, and the knowledge had come too late. Could he +have saved his life if he had listened to that other Cynthia? + +"Won't you tell me that they are not true?" + +Even then he did not turn to her, but he answered. Curious to relate, +though his heart was breaking, his voice was steady--steady as it always +had been. + +"I--I've seen it comin', Cynthy," he said. "I never knowed anything I +was afraid of before--but I was afraid of this. I knowed what your +notions of right and wrong was--your--your mother had them. They're the +principles of good people. I--I knowed the day would come when you'd +ask, but I wanted to be happy as long as I could. I hain't been happy, +Cynthy. But you was right when you said I'd tell you the truth. S-so I +will. I guess them things which you speak about are true--the way I got +where I am, and the way I made my livin'. They--they hain't put just as +they'd ought to be, perhaps, but that's the way I done it in the main." + +It was thus that Jethro Bass met the supreme crisis of his life. And who +shall say he did not meet it squarely and honestly? Few men of finer +fibre and more delicate morals would have acquitted themselves as well. +That was a Judgment Day for Jethro; and though he knew it not, he spoke +through Cynthia to his Maker, confessing his faults freely and humbly, +and dwelling on the justness of his punishment; putting not forward any +good he may have done; nor thinking of it; nor seeking excuse because of +the light that was in him. Had he been at death's door in the face of +nameless tortures, no man could have dragged such a confession from him. +But a great love had been given him, and to that love he must speak the +truth, even at the cost of losing it. + +But he was not to lose it. Even as he was speaking a thrill of +admiration ran through Cynthia, piercing her sorrow. The superb strength +of the man was there in that simple confession, and it is in the nature +of woman to admire strength. He had fought his fight, and gained, and +paid the price without a murmur, seeking no palliation. Cynthia had not +come to that trial--so bitter for her--as a judge. If the reader has +seen youth and innocence sitting in the seat of justice, with age and +experience at the bar, he has mistaken Cynthia. She came to Coniston +inexorable, it is true, because hers was a nature impelled to do right +though it perish. She did not presume to say what Jethro's lights and +opportunities might have been. Her own she knew, and by them she must +act accordingly. + +When he had finished speaking, she stole silently to his side and slipped +her hand in his. He trembled violently at her touch. + +"Uncle Jethro," she said in a low tone, "I love you." + +At the words he trembled more violently still. + +"No, no, Cynthy," he answered thickly, "don't say that--I--I don't expect +it, Cynthy, I know you can't--'twouldn't be right, Cynthy. I hain't fit +for it." + +"Uncle Jethro," she said, "I love you better than I have ever loved you +in my life." + +Oh, how welcome were the tears! and how human! He turned, pitifully +incredulous, wondering that she should seek by deceit to soften the blow; +he saw them running down her cheeks, and he believed. Yes, he believed, +though it seemed a thing beyond belief. Unworthy, unfit though he were, +she loved him. And his own love as he gazed at her, sevenfold increased +as it had been by the knowledge of losing her, changed in texture from +homage to worship--nay, to adoration. His punishment would still be +heavy; but whence had come such a wondrous gift to mitigate it? + +"Oh, don't you believe me?" she cried, "can't you see that it is true?" + +And yet he could only hold her there at arm's length with that new and +strange reverence in his face. He was not worthy to touch her, but still +she loved him. + +The flush had faded from the eastern sky, and the faintest border of +yellow light betrayed the ragged outlines of the mountain as they walked +together to the tannery house. + +Millicent, in the kitchen, was making great preparations--for Millicent. +Miss Skinner was a person who had hitherto laid it down as a principle of +life to pay deference or do honor to no human made of mere dust, like +herself. Millicent's exception; if Cynthia had thought about it, was a +tribute of no mean order. Cynthia, alas, did not think about it: she did +not know that, in her absence, the fire had not been lighted in the +evening, Jethro supping on crackers and milk and Milly partaking of the +evening meal at home. Moreover, Miss Skinner had an engagement with a +young man. Cynthia saw the fire, and threw off her sealskin coat which +Mr. and Mrs. Merrill had given her for Christmas, and took down the +saucepan from the familiar nail on which it hung. It was a miraculous +fact, for which she did not attempt to account, that she was almost +happy: happy, indeed, in comparison to that which had been her state +since the afternoon before. Millicent snatched the saucepan angrily from +her hand. + +"What be you doin', Cynthy?" she demanded. + +Such was Miss Skinner's little way of showing deference. Though +deference is not usually vehement, Miss Skinner's was very real, +nevertheless. + +"Why, Milly, what's the matter?" exclaimed Cynthia, in astonishment. + +"You hain't a-goin' to do any cookin', that's all," said Milly, very red +in the face. + +"But I've always helped," said Cynthia. "Why not?" + +Why not? A tribute was one thing, but to have to put the reasons for +that tribute, into words was quite another. + +"Why not?" cried Milly, "because you hain't a-goin' to, that's all." + +Strange deference! But Cynthia turned and looked at the girl with a +little, sad smile of comprehension and affection. She took her by the +shoulders and kissed her. + +Whereupon a most amazing thing happened--Millicent burst into tears-- +wild, ungovernable tears they were. + +"Because you hain't a-goin' to," she repeated, her words interspersed +with violent sobs. "You go 'way, Cynthy," she cried, "git out!" + +"Milly," said Cynthia, shaking her head, "you ought to be ashamed of +yourself." But they were not words of reproof. She took a little lamp +from the shelf, and went up the narrow stairs to her own room in the +gable, where Lemuel had deposited the rawhide trunk. + +Though she had had nothing all day, she felt no hunger, but for Milly's +sake she tried hard to eat the supper when it came. Before it had fairly +begun Moses Hatch had arrived, with Amandy and Eben; and Rias Richardson +came in, and other neighbors, to say a word of welcome to hear (if the +truth be not too disparaging to their characters) the reasons for her +sudden appearance, and such news of her Boston experiences as she might +choose to give them. They had learned from Lem Hallowell that Cynthia +had returned a lady: a real lady, not a sham one who relied on airs and +graces, such as had come to Coniston the summer before to look for a +summer place on the painter's recommendation. Lem was not a gossip, in +the disagreeable sense of the term, and he had not said a word to his +neighbors of his feelings on that terrible drive from Brampton. Knowing +that some blow had fallen upon Cynthia, he would have spared her these +visits if he could. But Lem was wise and kind, so he merely said that +she had returned a lady. + +And they had found a lady. As they stood or sat around the kitchen (Eben +and Rias stood), Cynthia talked to them--about Coniston: rather, be it +said, that they talked about Coniston in answer to her questions. The +sledding had been good; Moses had hauled so many thousand feet of lumber +to Brampton; Sam Price's woman (she of Harwich) had had a spell of +sciatica; Chester Perkins's bull had tossed his brother-in-law, come from +Iowy on a visit, and broke his leg; yes, Amandy guessed her dyspepsy was +somewhat improved since she had tried Graham's Golden Remedy--it made her +feel real lighthearted; Eben (blushing furiously) was to have the Brook +Farm in the spring; there was a case of spotted fever in Tarleton. + +Yes, Lem Hallowell had been right, Cynthia was a lady, but not a mite +stuck up. What was the difference in her? Not her clothes, which she +wore as if she had been used to them all her life. Poor Cynthia, the +clothes were simple enough. Not her manner, which was as kind and sweet +as ever. What was it that compelled their talk about themselves, that +made them refrain from asking those questions about Boston, and why she +had come back? Some such query was running in their minds as they +talked, while Jethro, having finished his milk and crackers, sat silent +at the end of the table with his eyes upon her. He rose when Mr. +Satterlee came in. + +Mr. Satterlee looked at her, and then he went quietly across the room and +kissed her. But then Mr. Satterlee was the minister. Cynthia thought +his hair a little thinner and the lines in his face a little deeper. And +Mr. Satterlee thought perhaps he was the only one of the visitors who +guessed why she had come back. He laid his thin hand on her head, as +though in benediction, and sat down beside her. + +"And how is the learning, Cynthia?" he asked. + +Now, indeed, they were going to hear something at last. An intuition +impelled Cynthia to take advantage of that opportunity. + +"The learning has become so great, Mr. Satterlee," she said, "that I have +come back to try to make some use of it. It shall be wasted no more." + +She did not dare to look at Jethro, but she was aware that he had sat +down abruptly. What sacrifice will not a good woman make to ease the +burden of those whom she loves! And Jethro's burden would be heavy +enough. Such a woman will speak almost gayly, though her heart be heavy. +But Cynthia's was lighter now than it had been. + +"I was always sure you would not waste your learning, Cynthia," said Mr. +Satterlee, gravely; "that you would make the most of the advantages God +has given you." + +"I am going to try, Mr. Satterlee. I cannot be content in idleness. I +was wasting time in Boston, and I--I was not happy so far away from you +all--from Uncle Jethro. Mr. Satterlee, I am going to teach school. I +have always wanted to, and now I have made up my mind to do it." + +This was Jethro's punishment. But had she not lightened it for him a +little by choosing this way of telling him that she could not eat his +bread or partake of his bounty? Though by reason of that bounty she was +what she was, she could not live and thrive on it longer, coming as it +did from such a source. Mr. Satterlee might perhaps surmise the truth, +but the town and village would think her ambition a very natural one, +certainly no better time could have been chosen to announce it. + +"To teach school." She was sure now that Mr. Satterlee knew and +approved, and perceived something, at least, of her little ruse. He was +a man whose talents fitted him for a larger flock than he had at +Coniston, but he possessed neither the graces demanded of city ministers +nor the power of pushing himself. Never was a more retiring man. The +years she had spent in his study had not gone for nothing, for he who has +cherished the bud can predict what the flower will be, and Mr. Satterlee +knew her spiritually better than any one else in Coniston. He had heard +of her return, and had walked over to the tannery house, full of fears, +the remembrance of those expressions of simple faith in Jethro coming +back to his mind. Had the revelation which he had so long expected come +at last? and how had she taken it? would it embitter her? The good man +believed that it would not, and now he saw that it had not, and rejoiced +accordingly. + +"To teach school," he said. "I expected that you would wish to, Cynthia. +It is a desire that most of us have, who like books and what is in them. +I should have taught school if I had not become a minister. It is a high +calling, and an absorbing one, to develop the minds of the young." Mr. +Satterlee was often a little discursive, though there was reason for it +on this occasion, and Moses Hatch half closed his eyes and bowed his head +a little out of sheer habit at the sound of the minister's voice. But he +raised it suddenly at the next words. "I was in Brampton yesterday, and +saw Mr. Graves, who is on the prudential committee of that district. You +may not have heard that Miss Goddard has left. They have not yet +succeeded in filling her place, and I think it more than likely that you +can get it." + +Cynthia glanced at Jethro, but the habit of years was so strong in him +that he gave no sign. + +"Do you think so, Mr. Satterlee?" she said gratefully. "I had heard of +the place, and hoped for it, because it is near enough for me to spend +the Saturdays and Sundays with Uncle Jethro. And I meant to go to +Brampton tomorrow to see about it." + +"I will go with you," said the minister; "I have business in Brampton to- +morrow." He did not mention that this was the business. + +When at length they had all departed, Jethro rose and went about the +house making fast the doors, as was his custom, while Cynthia sat staring +through the bars at the dying embers in the stove. He knew now, and it +was inevitable that he should know, what she had made up her mind to do. +It had been decreed that she, who owed him everything, should be made to +pass this most dreadful of censures upon his whole life. Oh, the cruelty +of that decree! + +How, she mused, would it affect him? Had the blow been so great that he +would relinquish those practices which had become a lifelong habit with +him? Would he (she caught her breath at this thought) would he abandon +that struggle with Isaac D. Worthington in which he was striving to +maintain the mastery of the state by those very practices? Cynthia hated +Mr. Worthington. The term is not too strong, and it expresses her +feeling. But she would have got down on her knees on the board floor of +the kitchen that very night and implored Jethro to desist from that +contest, if she could. She remembered how, in her innocence, she had +believed that the people had given Jethro his power,--in those days when +she was so proud of that very power,--now she knew that he had wrested it +from them. What more supreme sacrifice could he make than to relinquish +it! Ah, there was a still greater sacrifice that Jethro was to make, had +she known it. + +He came and stood over her by the stove, and she looked up into his face +with these yearnings in her eyes. Yes, she would have thrown herself on +her knees, if she could. But she could not. Perhaps he would abandon +that struggle. Perhaps--perhaps his heart was broken. And could a man +with a broken heart still fight on? She took his hand and pressed it +against her face, and he felt that it was wet with her tears. + +"B-better go to bed now, Cynthy," he said; "m-must be worn out--m-must be +worn out." + +He stooped and kissed her on the forehead. It was thus that Jethro Bass +accepted his sentence. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +At sunrise, in that Coniston hill-country, it is the western hills which +are red; and a distant hillock on the meadow farm which was soon to be +Eden's looked like the daintiest conical cake with pink icing as Cynthia +surveyed the familiar view the next morning. There was the mountain, the +pastures on the lower slopes all red, too, and higher up the dark masses +of bristling spruce and pine and hemlock mottled with white where the +snow-covered rocks showed through. + +Sunrise in January is not very early, and sunrise at any season is not +early for Coniston. Cynthia sat at her window, and wondered whether that +beautiful landscape would any longer be hers. Her life had grown up on +it; but now her life had changed. Would the beauty be taken from it, +too? Almost hungrily she gazed at the scene. She might look upon it +again--many times, perhaps--but a conviction was strong in her that its +daily possession would now be only a memory. + +Mr. Satterlee was as good as his word, for he was seated in the stage +when it drew up at the tannery house, ready to go to Brampton. And as +they drove away Cynthia took one last look at Jethro standing on the +porch. It seemed to her that it had been given her to feel all things, +and to know all things: to know, especially, this strange man, Jethro +Bass, as none other knew him, and to love him as none other loved him. +The last severe wrench was come, and she had left him standing there +alone in the cold, divining what was in his heart as though it were in +her own. How worthless was this mighty power which he had gained, how +hateful, when he could not bestow the smallest fragment of it upon one +whom he loved? Someone has described hell as disqualification in the +face of opportunity. Such was Jethro's torment that morning as he saw +her drive away, the minister in the place where he should have been, at +her side, and he, Jethro Bass, as helpless as though he had indeed been +in the pit among the flames. Had the prudential committee at Brampton +promised the appointment ten times over, he might still have obtained it +for her by a word. And he must not speak even that word. Who shall say +that a large part of the punishment of Jethro Bass did not come to him in +the life upon this earth. + +Some such thoughts were running in Cynthia's head as they jingled away to +Brampton that dazzling morning. Perhaps the stage driver, too, who knew +something of men and things and who meddled not at all, had made a guess +at the situation. He thought that Cynthia's spirits seemed lightened a +little, and he meant to lighten them more; so he joked as much as his +respect for his passengers would permit, and told the news of Brampton. +Not the least of the news concerned the first citizen of that place. +There was a certain railroad in the West which had got itself much into +Congress, and much into the newspapers, and Isaac D. Worthington had got +himself into that railroad: was gone West, it was said on that business, +and might not be back for many weeks. And Lem Hallowell remembered when +Mr. Worthington was a slim-cheated young man wandering up and down +Coniston Water in search of health. Good Mr. Satterlee, thinking this a +safe subject, allowed himself to be led into a discussion of the first +citizen's career, which indeed had something fascinating in it. + +Thus they jingled into Brampton Street and stopped before the cottage of +Judge Graves--a courtesy title. The judge himself came to the door and +bestowed a pronounced bow on the minister, for Mr. Satterlee was honored +in Brampton. Just think of what Ezra Graves might have looked like, and +you have him. He greeted Cynthia, too, with a warm welcome--for Ezra +Graves,--and ushered them into a best parlor which was reserved for +ministers and funerals and great occasions in general, and actually +raised the blinds. Then Mr. Satterlee, with much hemming and hawing, +stated the business which had brought them, while Cynthia looked out of +the window. + +Mr. Graves sat and twirled his lean thumbs. He went so far as to say +that he admired a young woman who scorned to live in idleness, who wished +to impart the learning with which she had been endowed. Fifteen +applicants were under consideration for the position, and the prudential +committee had so far been unable to declare that any of them were +completely qualified. (It was well named, that prudential committee?) +Mr. Graves, furthermore, volunteered that he had expressed a wish to +Colonel Prescott (Oh, Ephraim, you too have got a title with your new +honors!), to Colonel Prescott and others, that Miss Wetherell might take +the place. The middle term opened on the morrow, and Miss Bruce, of the +Worthington Free Library, had been induced to teach until a successor +could be appointed, although it was most inconvenient for Miss Bruce. + +Could Miss Wetherell start in at once, provided the committee agreed? +Cynthia replied that she would like nothing better. There would be an +examination before Mr. Errol, the Brampton Superintendent of Schools. In +short, owing to the pressing nature of the occasion, the judge would +take the liberty of calling the committee together immediately. Would +Mr. Satterlee and Miss Wetherell make themselves at home in the parlor? + +It very frequently happens that one member of a committee is the brain, +and the other members form the body of it. It was so in this case. Ezra +Graves typified all of prudence there was about it, which, it must be +admitted, was a great deal. He it was who had weighed in the balance the +fifteen applicants and found them wanting. Another member of the +committee was that comfortable Mr. Dodd, with the tuft of yellow beard, +the hardware dealer whom we have seen at the baseball game. Mr. Dodd was +not a person who had opinions unless they were presented to him from +certain sources, and then he had been known to cling to them tenaciously. +It is sufficient to add that, when Cynthia Wetherell's name was mentioned +to him, he remembered the girl to whom Bob Worthington had paid such +marked attentions on the grand stand. He knew literally nothing else +about Cynthia. Judge Graves, apparently, knew all about her; this was +sufficient, at that time, for Mr. Dodd; he was sick and tired of the +whole affair, and if, by the grace of heaven, an applicant had been sent +who conformed with Judge Graves's multitude of requirements, he was +devoutly thankful. The other member, Mr. Hill, was a feed and lumber +dealer, and not a very good one, for he was always in difficulties; +certain scholarly attainments were attributed to him, and therefore he +had been put on the committee. They met in Mr. Dodd's little office back +of the store, and in five minutes Cynthia was a schoolmistress, subject +to examination by Mr. Errol. + +Just a word about Mr. Errol. He was a retired lawyer, with some means, +who took an interest in town affairs to occupy his time. He had a very +delicate wife, whom he had been obliged to send South at the beginning of +the winter. There she had for a while improved, but had been taken ill +again, and two days before Cynthia's appointment he had been summoned to +her bedside by a telegram. Cynthia could go into the school, and her +examination would take place when Mr. Errol returned. + +All this was explained by the judge when, half an hour after he had left +them, he returned to the best parlor. Miss Wetherell would, then, be +prepared to take the school the following morning. Whereupon the judge +shook hands with her, and did not deny that he had been instrumental in +the matter. + +"And, Mr. Satterlee, I am so grateful to you," said Cynthia, when they +were in the street once more. + +"My dear Cynthia, I did nothing," answered the minister, quite bewildered +by the quick turn affairs had taken; "it is your own good reputation that +got you the place." + +Nevertheless Mr. Satterlee had done his share in the matter. He had +known Mr. Graves for a long time, and better than any other person in +Brampton. Mr. Graves remembered Cynthia Ware, and indeed had spoken to +Cynthia that day about her mother. Mr. Graves had also read poor William +Wetherell's contributions to the Newcastle Guardian, and he had not read +that paper since they had ceased. From time to time Mr. Satterlee had +mentioned his pupil to the judge, whose mind had immediately flown to her +when the vacancy occurred. So it all came about. + +"And now," said Mr. Satterlee, "what will you do, Cynthia? We've got the +good part of a day to arrange where you will live, before the stage +returns." + +"I won't go back to-night, I think," said Cynthia, turning her head away; +"if you would be good enough to tell Uncle Jethro to send my trunk and +some other things." + +"Perhaps that is just as well," assented the minister, understanding +perfectly. "I have thought that Miss Bruce might be glad to board you," +he continued, after a pause. "Let us go to see her." + +"Mr. Satterlee," said Cynthia, "would you mind if we went first to see +Cousin Ephraim?" + +"Why, of course, we must see Ephraim," said Mr. Satterlee, briskly. So +they walked on past the mansion of the first citizen, and the new block +of stores which the first citizen had built, to the old brick building +which held the Brampton post-office, and right through the door of the +partition into the sanctum of the postmaster himself, which some one had +nicknamed the Brampton Club. On this occasion the postmaster was seated +in his shirt sleeves by the stove, alone, his listeners being conspicuously +absent. Cynthia, who had caught a glimpse of him through the little mail- +window, thought he looked very happy and comfortable. + +"Great Tecumseh!" he cried,--an exclamation he reserved for extraordinary +occasions, "if it hain't Cynthy!" + +He started to hobble toward her, but Cynthia ran to him. + +"Why," said he, looking at her closely after the greeting was over, "you +be changed, Cynthy. Mercy, I don't know as I'd have dared done that if +I'd seed you first. What have you b'en doin' to yourself? You must have +seed a whole lot down there in Boston. And you're a full-blown lady, +too." + +"Oh, no, I'm not, Cousin Eph," she answered, trying to smile. + +"Yes, you be," he insisted, still scrutinizing her, vainly trying to +account for the change. Tact, as we know, was not Ephraim's strong +point. Now he shook his head. "You always was beyond me. Got a sort of +air about you, and it grows on you, too. Wouldn't be surprised," he +declared, speaking now to the minister, "wouldn't be a mite surprised to +see her in the White House, some day." + +"Now, Cousin Eph," said Cynthia, coloring a little, "you mustn't talk +nonsense. What have you done with your coat? You have no business to go +without it with your rheumatism." + +"It hain't b'en so bad since Uncle Sam took me over again, Cynthy," he +answered, "with nothin' to do but sort letters in a nice hot room." The +room was hot, indeed. "But where did you come from?" + +"I grew tired of being taught, Cousin Eph. I--I've always wanted to +teach. Mr. Satterlee has been with me to see Mr. Graves, and they've +given me Miss Goddard's place. I'm coming to Brampton to live, to-day." + +"Great Tecumseh!" exclaimed Ephraim again, overpowered by the yews. "I +want to know! What does Jethro say to that?" + +"He--he is willing," she replied in a low voice. + +"Well," said Ephraim, "I always thought you'd come to it. It's in the +blood, I guess--teachin'. Your mother had it too. I'm kind of sorry for +Jethro, though, so I be. But I'm glad for myself, Cynthy. So you're +comin' to Brampton to live with me! + +"I was going to ask Miss Bruce to take me in," said Cynthia. + +"No you hain't, anything of the kind," said Ephraim, indignantly. "I've +got a little house up the street, and a room all ready for you." + +"Will you let me share expenses, Cousin Eph?" + +"I'll let you do anything you want," said he, "so's you come. Don't you +think she'd ought to come and take care of an old man, Mr. Satterlee?" + +Mr. Satterlee turned. He had been contemplating, during this +conversation, a life-size print of General Grant under two crossed flags, +that was hung conspicuously on the wall. + +"I do not think you could do better, Cynthia," he answered, smiling. The +minister liked Ephraim, and he liked a little joke, occasionally. He +felt that one would not be, particularly out of place just now; so he +repeated, "I do not think you could do better than to accept the offer of +Colonel Prescott." + +Ephraim grew very red, as was his wont when twitted about his new title. +He took things literally. + +"I hain't a colonel, no more than you be, Mr. Satterlee. But the boys +down here will have it so." + +Three days later, by the early train which leaves the state capital at an +unheard-of hour in the morning, a young man arrived in Brampton. His jaw +seemed squarer than ever to the citizens who met the train out of +curiosity, and to Mr. Dodd, who was expecting a pump; and there was a set +look on his face like that of a man who is going into a race or a fight. +Mr. Dodd, though astonished, hastened toward him. + +"Well, this is unexpected, Bob," said he. "How be you? Harvard College +failed up?" + +For Mr. Dodd never let slip a chance to assure a member of the +Worthington family of his continued friendship. + +"How are you, Mr. Dodd?" answered Bob, nodding at him carelessly, and +passing on. Mr. Dodd did not dare to follow. What was young Worthington +doing in Brampton, and his father in the West on that railroad business? +Filled with curiosity, Mr. Dodd forgot his pump, but Bob was already +striding into Brampton Street, carrying his bag. If he had stopped for a +few moments with the hardware dealer, or chatted with any of the dozen +people who bowed and stared at him, he might have saved himself a good +deal of trouble. He turned in at the Worthington mansion, and rang the +bell, which was answered by Sarah, the housemaid. + +"Mr. Bob!" she exclaimed. + +"Where's Mrs. Holden?" he asked. + +Mrs. Holden was the elderly housekeeper. She had gone, unfortunately, to +visit a bereaved relative; unfortunately for Bob, because she, too, might +have told him something. + +"Get me some breakfast, Sarah. Anything," he commanded, "and tell Silas +to hitch up the black trotters to my cutter." + +Sarah, though in consternation, did as she was bid. The breakfast was +forthcoming, and in half an hour Silas had the black trotters at the +door. Bob got in without a word, seized the reins, the cutter flew down +Brampton Street (observed by many of the residents thereof) and turned +into the Coniston road. Silas said nothing. Silas, as a matter of fact, +never did say anything. He had been the Worthington coachman for five +and twenty years, and he was known in Brampton as Silas the Silent. +Young Mr. Worthington had no desire to talk that morning. + +The black trotters covered the ten miles in much quicker time than Lem +Hallowell could do it in his stage, but the distance seemed endless to +Bob. It was not much more than half an hour after he had left Brampton +Street, however, that he shot past the store, and by the time Rias +Richardson in his carpet slippers reached the platform the cutter was in +front of the tannery house, and the trotters, with their sides smoking, +were pawing up the snow under the butternut tree. + +Bob leaped out, hurried up the path, and knocked at the door. It was +opened by Jethro Bass himself + +"How do you do, Mr. Bass," said the young man, gravely, and he held out +his hand. Jethro gave him such a scrutinizing look as he had given many +a man whose business he cared to guess, but Bob looked fearlessly into +his eyes. Jethro took his hand. + +"C-come in," he said. + +Bob went into that little room where Jethro and Cynthia had spent so many +nights together, and his glance flew straight to the picture on the +wall,--the portrait of Cynthia Wetherell in crimson and seed pearls, so +strangely set amidst such surroundings. His glance went to the portrait, +and his feet followed, as to a lodestone. He stood in front of it for +many minutes, in silence, and Jethro watched him. At last he turned. + +"Where is she?" he asked. + +It was a queer question, and Jethro's answer was quite as lacking in +convention. + +"G-gone to Brampton--gone to Brampton." + +"Gone to Brampton! Do you mean to say--? What is she doing there?" Bob +demanded. + +"Teachin' school," said Jethro; "g-got Miss Goddard's place." + +Bob did not reply for a moment. The little schoolhouse was the only +building in Brampton he had glanced at as he came through. Mrs. Merrill +had told him that she might take that place, but he had little imagined +she was already there on her platform facing the rows of shining little +faces at the desks. He had deemed it more than possible that he might +see Jethro at Coniston, but he had not taken into account that which he +might say to him. Bob had, indeed, thought of nothing but Cynthia, and +of the blow that had fallen upon her. He had tried to realize the, +multiple phases of the situation which confronted him. Here was the man +who, by the conduct of his life, had caused the blow; he, too, was her +benefactor; and again, this same man was engaged in the bitterest of +conflicts with his father, Isaac D. Worthington, and it was this conflict +which had precipitated that blow. Bob could not have guessed, by looking +at Jethro Bass, how great was the sorrow which had fallen upon him. But +Bob knew that Jethro hated his father, must hate him now, because of +Cynthia, with a hatred given to few men to feel. He thought that Jethro +would crush Mr. Worthington and ruin him if he could; and Bob believed he +could. + +What was he to say? He did not fear Jethro, for Bob Worthington had +courage enough; but these things were running in his mind, and he felt +the power of the man before him, as all men did. Bob went to the window +and came back again. He knew that he must speak. + +"Mr. Bass," he said at last, "did Cynthia ever mention me to you?" + +"No," said Jethro. + +"Mr. Bass, I love her. I have told her so, and I have asked her to be my +wife." + +There was no need, indeed, to have told Jethro this. The shock of that +revelation had come to him when he had seen the trotters, had been +confirmed when the young man had stood before the portrait. Jethro's +face might have twitched when Bob stood there with his back to him. + +Jethro could not speak. Once more there had come to him a moment when he +would not trust his voice to ask a question. He dreaded the answer, +though none might have surmised this. He knew Cynthia. He knew that, +when she had given her heart, it was for all time. He dreaded the +answer; because it might mean that her sorrow was doubled. + +"I believe," Bob continued painfully, seeing that Jethro would say +nothing, "I believe that Cynthia loves me. I should not dare to say it +or to hope it, without reason. She has not said so, but--" the words +were very hard for him, yet he stuck manfully to the truth; "but she told +me to write to my father and let him know what I had done, and not to +come back to her until I had his answer. This," he added, wondering that +a man could listen to such a thing without a sign, "this was before-- +before she had any idea of coming home." + +Yes, Cynthia, did love him. There was no doubt about it in Jethro's +mind. She would not have bade Bob write to his father if she had not +loved him. Still Jethro did not speak, but by some intangible force +compelled Bob to go on. + +"I shall write to my father as soon as he comes back from the West, but I +wish to say to you, Mr. Bass, that whatever his answer contains, I mean +to marry Cynthia. Nothing can shake me from that resolution. I tell you +this because my father is fighting you, and you know what he will say." +(Jethro knew Dudley Worthington well enough to appreciate that this would +make no particular difference in his opposition to the marriage except to +make that opposition more vehement.) "And because you do not know me," +continued Bob. "When I say a thing, I mean it. Even if my father cuts +me off and casts me out, I will marry Cynthia. Good-by, Mr. Bass." + +Jethro took the young man's hand again. Bob imagined that he even +pressed it--a little--something he had never done before. + +"Good-by, Bob." + +Bob got as far as the door. + +"Er--go back to Harvard, Bob?" + +"I intend to, Mr. Bass." + +"Er--Bob?" + +"Yes?" + +"D-don't quarrel with your father--don't quarrel with your father." + +"I shan't be the one to quarrel, Mr. Bass." + +"Bob--hain't you pretty young--pretty young?" + +"Yes," said Bob, rather unexpectedly, "I am." Then he added, "I know my +own mind." + +"P-pretty young. Don't want to get married yet awhile--do you?" + +"Yes, I do," said Bob, "but I suppose I shan't be able to." + +"Er--wait awhile, Bob. Go back to Harvard. W-wouldn't write that letter +if I was you." + +"But I will. I'll not have him think I'm ashamed of what I've done. I'm +proud of it, Mr. Bass." + +In the eyes of Coniston, which had been waiting for his reappearance, Bob +Worthington jumped into the sleigh and drove off. He left behind him +Jethro Bass, who sat in his chair the rest of the morning with his head +bent in revery so deep that Millicent had to call him twice to his simple +dinner. Bob left behind him, too, a score of rumors, sprung full grown +into life with his visit. Men and women an incredible distance away +heard them in an incredible time: those in the village found an immediate +pretext for leaving their legitimate occupation and going to the store, +and a gathering was in session there when young Mr. Worthington drove +past it on his way back. Bob thought little about the rumors, and not +thinking of them it did not occur to him that they might affect Cynthia. +The only person then in Coniston whom he thought about was Jethro Bass. +Bob decided that his liking for Jethro had not diminished, but rather +increased; he admired Jethro for the advice he had given, although he did +not mean to take it. And for the first time he pitied him. + +Bob did not know that rumor, too, was spreading in Brampton. He had his +dinner in the big walnut dining room all alone, and after it he smoked +his father's cigars and paced up and down the big hall, watching the +clock. For he could not go to her in the school hours. At length he put +on his hat and hurried out, crossing the park-like enclosure in the +middle of the street; bowed at by Mr. Dodd, who always seemed to be on +hand, and others, and nodding absently in return. Concealment was not in +Bob Worthington's nature. He reached the post-office, where the +partition door was open, and he walked right into a comparatively full +meeting of the Brampton Club. Ephraim sat in their midst, and for once +he was not telling war stories. He was silent. And the others fell +suddenly silent, too, at Bob's entrance. + +"How do you do, Mr. Prescott?" he said, as Ephraim struggled to his feet. +"How is the rheumatism?" + +"How be you, Mr. Worthington?" said Ephraim; "this is a kind of a +surprise, hain't it?" Ephraim was getting used to surprises. "Well, it +is good-natured of you to come in and shake hands with an old soldier." + +"Don't mention it, Mr. Prescott," answered honest Bob, a little abashed, +"I should have done so anyway, but the fact is, I wanted to speak to you +a moment in private." + +"Certain," said Ephraim, glancing helplessly around him, "jest come out +front." That space, where the public were supposed to be, was the only +private place in the Brampton post-office. But the members of the +Brampton Club could take a hint, and with one consent began to make +excuses. Bob knew them all from boyhood and spoke to them all. Some of +them ventured to ask him if Harvard had bust up. + +"Where does Cynthia-live?" he demanded, coming straight to the point. + +Ephraim stared at him for a moment in a bewildered fashion, and then a +light began to dawn on him. + +"Lives with me," he answered. He was quite as ashamed, for Bob's sake, +as if he himself had asked the question, and he went on talking to cover +that embarrassment. "It's made some difference, too, sence she come. +House looks like a different place. Afore she, come I cooked with a kit, +same as I used to in the harness shop. I l'arned it in the army. +Cynthy's got a stove." + +It was not the way Ephraim would have gone about a love affair, had he +had one. Sam Price's were the approved methods in that section of the +country, though Sam had overdone them somewhat. It was an unheard-of +thing to ask a man right out like that where a girl lived. + +"Much obliged," said Bob, and was gone. Ephraim raised his hands in +despair, and hobbled to the little window to get a last look at him. +Where were the proprieties in these days? The other aspect of the +affair, what Mr. Worthington would think of it when he returned, did not +occur to the innocent mind of the old soldier until people began to talk +about it that afternoon. Then it worried him into another attack of +rheumatism. + +Half of Brampton must have seen Bob Worthington march up to the little +yellow house which Ephraim had rented from John Billings. It had four +rooms around the big chimney in the middle, and that was all. Simple as +it was, an architect would have said that its proportions were nearly +perfect. John Billings had it from his Grandfather Post, who built it, +and though Brampton would have laughed at the statement, Isaac D. +Worthington's mansion was not to be compared with it for beauty. The old +cherry furniture was still in it, and the old wall papers and the +panelling in the little room to the right which Cynthia had made into a +sitting room. + +Half of Brampton, too, must have seen Cynthia open the door and Bob walk +into the entry. Then the door was shut. But it had been held open for +an appreciable time, however,--while you could count twenty,--because +Cynthia had not the power to close it. For a while she could only look +into his eyes, and he into hers. She had not seen him coming, she had +but answered the knock. Then, slowly, the color came into her cheeks, +and she knew that she was trembling from head to foot. + +"Cynthia," he said, "mayn't I come in?" + +She did not answer, for fear her voice would tremble, too. And she could +not send him away in the face of all Brampton. She opened the door a +little wider, a very little, and he went in. Then she closed it, and for +a moment they stood facing each other in the entry, which was lighted +only by the fan-light over the door, Cynthia with her back against the +wall. He spoke her name again, his voice thick with the passion which +had overtaken him like a flood at the sight of her--a passion to seize +her in his arms, and cherish and comfort and protect her forever and +ever. All this he felt and more as he looked into her face and saw the +traces of her great sorrow there. He had not thought that that face +could be more beautiful in its strength and purity, but it was even so. + +"Cynthia-my love!" he cried, and raised his arms. But a look as of a +great fear came into her eyes, which for one exquisite moment had yielded +to his own; and her breath came quickly, as though she were spent--as +indeed she was. So far spent that the wall at her back was grateful. + +"No!" she said; "no--you must not--you must not--you must not!" Again and +again she repeated the words, for she could summon no others. They were +a mandate--had he guessed it--to herself as to him. For the time her +brain refused its functions, and she could think of nothing but the fact +that he was there, beside her, ready to take her in his arms. How she +longed to fly into them, none but herself knew--to fly into them as into +a refuge secure against the evil powers of the world. It was not reason +that restrained her then, but something higher in her, that restrained +him likewise. Without moving from the wall she pushed open the door of +the sitting room. + +"Go in there," she said. + +He went in as she bade him and stood before the flickering logs in the +wide and shallow chimney-place--logs that seemed to burn on the very +hearth itself, and yet the smoke rose unerring into the flue. No stove +had ever desecrated that room. Bob looked into the flames and waited, +and Cynthia stood in the entry fighting this second great battle which +had come upon her while her forces were still spent with that other one. +Woman in her very nature is created to be sheltered and protected; and +the yearning in her, when her love is given, is intense as nature itself +to seek sanctuary in that love. So it was with Cynthia leaning against +the entry wall, her arms full length in front of her, and her hands +clasped as she prayed for strength to withstand the temptation. At last +she grew calmer, though her breath still came deeply, and she went into +the sitting room. + +Perhaps he knew, vaguely, why she had not followed him at once. He had +grown calmer himself, calmer with that desperation which comes to a man +of his type when his soul and body are burning with desire for a woman. +He knew that he would have to fight for her with herself. He knew now +that she was too strong in her position to be carried by storm, and the +interval had given him time to collect himself. He did not dare at first +to look up from the logs, for fear he should forget himself and be +defeated instantly. + +"I have been to Coniston, Cynthia," he said. + +"Yes." + +"I have been to Coniston this morning, and I have seen Mr. Bass, and I +have told him that I love you, and that I will never give you up. I told +you so in Boston, Cynthia," he said; "I knew that this this trouble would +come to you. I would have given my life to have saved you from it--from +the least part of it. I would have given my life to have been able to +say 'it shall not touch you.' I saw it flowing in like a great sea +between you and me, and yet I could not tell you of it. I could not +prepare you for it. I could only tell you that I would never give you +up, and I can only repeat that now." + +"You must, Bob," she answered, in a voice so low that it was almost a +whisper; "you must give me up." + +"I would not," he said, "I would not if the words were written on all the +rocks of Coniston Mountain. I love you." + +"Hush," she said gently. "I have to say some things to you. They will +be very hard to say, but you must listen to them." + +"I will listen," he said doggedly; "but they will not affect my +determination." + +"I am sure you do not wish to drive me away from Brampton," she +continued, in the same low voice, "when I have found a place to earn my +living near-near Uncle Jethro." + +These words told him all he had suspected--almost as much as though he +had been present at the scene in the tannery shed in Coniston. She knew +now the life of Jethro Bass, but he was still "Uncle Jethro" to her. It +was even as Bob had supposed,--that her affection once given could not be +taken away. + +"Cynthia," he said, "I would not by an act or a word annoy or trouble +you. If you bade me, I would go to the other side of the world to- +morrow. You must know that. But I should come back again. You must +know, that, too. I should come back again for you." + +"Bob," she said again, and her voice faltered a very little now, "you +must know that I can never be your wife." + +"I do not know it," he exclaimed, interrupting her vehemently, "I will +not know it." + +"Think," she said, "think! I must say what I, have to say, however it +hurts me. If it had not been for--for your father, those things never +would have been written. They were in his newspaper, and they express +his feelings toward--toward Uncle Jethro." + +Once the words were out, she marvelled that she had found the courage to +pronounce them. + +"Yes," he said, "yes, I know that, but listen--" + +"Wait," she went on, "wait until I have finished. I am not speaking of +the pain I had when I read these things, I--I am not speaking of the +truth that may be in them--I have learned from them what I should have +known before, and felt, indeed, that your father will never consent to-- +to a marriage between us." + +"And if he does not," cried Bob, "if he does not, do you think that I +will abide by what he says, when my life's happiness depends upon you, +and my life's welfare? I know that you are a good woman, and a true +woman, that you will be the best wife any man could have. Though he is +my father, he shall not deprive me of my soul, and he shall not take my +life away from me." + +As Cynthia listened she thought that never had words sounded sweeter than +these--no, and never would again. So she told herself as she let them +run into her heart to be stored among the treasures there. She believed +in his love--believed in it now with all her might. (Who, indeed, would +not?) She could not demean herself now by striving to belittle it or +doubt its continuance, as she had in Boston. He was young, yes; but he +would never be any older than this, could never love again like this. So +much was given her, ought she not to be content? Could she expect more? + +She understood Isaac Worthington, now, as well as his son understood him. +She knew that, if she were to yield to Bob Worthington, his father would +disown and disinherit him. She looked ahead into the years as a woman +will, and allowed herself for the briefest of moments to wonder whether +any happiness could thrive in spite of the violence of that schism--any +happiness for him. She would be depriving him of his birthright, and it +may be that those who are born without birthrights often value them the +most. Cynthia saw these things, and more, for those who sit at the feet +of sorrow soon learn the world's ways. She saw herself pointed out as +the woman whose designs had beggared and ruined him in his youth, and +(agonizing and revolting thought!) the name of one would be spoken from +whom she had learned such craft. Lest he see the scalding tears in her +eyes, she turned away and conquered them. What could she do? Where +should she hide her love that it might not be seen of men? And how, in +truth, could she tell him these things? + +"Cynthia," he went on, seeing that she did not answer, and taking heart, +"I will not say a word against my father. I know you would not respect +me if I did. We are different, he and I, and find happiness in different +ways." Bob wondered if his father had ever found it. "If I had never +met you and loved you, I should have refused to lead the life my father +wishes me to lead. It is not in me to do the things he will ask. I +shall have to carve out my own life, and I feel that I am as well able to +do it as he was. Percy Broke, a classmate of mine and my best friend, +has a position for me in a locomotive works in which his father is +largely interested. We are going in together, the day after we +graduate; it is all arranged, and his father has agreed. I shall work +very hard, and in a few years, Cynthia, we shall be together, never to +part again. Oh, Cynthia," he cried, carried away by the ecstasy of this +dream which he had, summoned up, "why do you resist me? I love you as no +man has ever loved," he exclaimed, with scornful egotism and contempt of +those who had made the world echo with that cry through the centuries, +"and you love me! Ah, do you think I do not see it--cannot feel it? You +love me--tell me so." + +He was coming toward her, and how was she to prevent his taking her by +storm? That was his way, and well she knew it. In her dreams she had +felt herself lifted and borne off, breathless in his arms, to Elysium. +Her breath was going now, her strength was going, and yet she made him +pause by the magic of a word. A concession was in that word, but one +could not struggle so piteously and concede nothing. + +"Bob," she said, "do you love me?" + +Love her! If there was a love that acknowledged no bounds, that was +confined by no superlatives, it was his. He began to speak, but she +interrupted him with a wild passion that was new to her. As he sat in +the train on his way back to Cambridge through the darkening afternoon, +the note of it rang in his ears and gave him hope--yes, and through many +months afterward. + +"If you love me I beg, I implore, I beseech you in the name of that love +--for your, sake and my sake, to leave me. Oh, can you not see why you +must go?" + +He stopped, even as he had before in the parlor in Mount Vernon Street. +He could but stop in the face of such an appeal--and yet the blood beat +in his head with a mad joy. + +"Tell me that you love me,--once," he cried,--"once, Cynthia." + +"Do-do not ask me," she faltered. "Go." + +Her words were a supplication, not a command. And in that they were a +supplication he had gained a victory. Yes, though she had striven with +all her might to deny, she had bade him hope. He left her without so +much as a touch of the hand, because she had wished it. And yet she +loved him! Incredible fact! Incredible conjury which made him doubt +that his feet touched the snow of Brampton Street, which blotted, as with +a golden glow, the faces and the houses of Brampton from his sight. He +saw no one, though many might have accosted him. That part of him which +was clay, which performed the menial tasks of his being, had kindly taken +upon itself to fetch his bag from the house to the station, and to board +the train. + +Ah, but Brampton had seen him! + + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +Great events, like young Mr. Worthington's visit to Brampton, are all +very well for a while, but they do not always develop with sufficient +rapidity to satisfy the audiences of the drama. Seven days were an +interlude quite long enough in which to discuss every phase and bearing +of this opening scene, and after that the play in all justice ought to +move on. But there it halted--for a while--and the curtain obstinately +refused to come up. If the inhabitants of Brampton had only known that +the drama, when it came, would be well worth waiting for, they might have +been less restless. + +It is unnecessary to enrich the pages of this folio with all the +footnotes and remarks of, the sages of Brampton. These can be condensed +into a paragraph of two--and we can ring up the curtain when we like on +the next scene, for which Brampton had to wait considerably over a month. +There is to be no villain in this drama with the face of an Abbe Maury +like the seven cardinal sins. Comfortable looking Mr. Dodd of the +prudential committee, with his chin-tuft of yellow beard, is cast for the +part of the villain, but will play it badly; he would have been better +suited to a comedy part. + +Young Mr. Worthington left Brampton on the five o'clock train, and at six +Mr. Dodd met his fellow-member of the committee, Judge Graves. + +"Called a meetin'?" asked Mr. Dodd, pulling the yellow tuft. + +"What for?" said the judge, sharply. + +"What be you a-goin' to do about it?" said Mr. Dodd. + +"Do about what?" demanded the judge, looking at the hardware dealer from +under his eyebrows. + +Mr. Dodd knew well enough that this was not ignorance on the part of Mr. +Graves, whose position in the matter dad been very well defined in the +two sentences he had spoken. Mr. Dodd perceived that the judge was +trying to get him to commit himself, and would then proceed to annihilate +him. He, Levi Dodd, had no intention of walking into such a trap. + +"Well," said he, with a final tug at the tuft, "if that's the way you +feel about it." + +"Feel about what?" said the judge, fiercely. + +"Callate you know best," said Mr. Dodd, and passed on up the street. But +he felt the judge's gimlet eyes boring holes in his back. The judge's +position was very fine, no doubt for the judge. All of which tends to +show that Levi Dodd had swept his mind, and that it was ready now for the +reception of an opinion. + +Six weeks or more, as has been said, passed before the curtain rose +again, but the snarling trumpets of the orchestra played a fitting +prelude. Cynthia's feelings and Cynthia's life need not be gone into +during this interval knowing her character, they may well be imagined. +They were trying enough, but Brampton had no means of guessing them. +During the weeks she came and went between the little house and the +little school, putting all the strength that was in her into her duties. +The Prudential Committee, which sometimes sat on the platform, could find +no fault with the performance of these duties, or with the capability of +the teacher, and it is not going too far to state that the children grew +to love her better than Miss Goddard had been loved. It may be declared +that children are the fittest citizens of a republic, because they are +apt to make up their own minds on any subject without regard to public +opinion. It was so with the scholars of Brampton village lower school: +they grew to love the new teacher, careless of what the attitude of their +elders might be, and some of them could have been seen almost any day +walking home with her down the street. + +As for the attitude of the elders--there was none. Before assuming one +they had thought it best, with characteristic caution, to await the next +act in the drama. There were ladies in Brampton whose hearts prompted +them, when they called on the new teacher, to speak a kindly word of +warning and advice; but somehow, when they were seated before her in the +little sitting room of the John Billings house, their courage failed +them. There was something about this daughter of the Coniston +storekeeper and ward of Jethro Bass that made them pause. So much for +the ladies of Brampton. What they said among themselves would fill a +chapter, and more. + +There was, at this time, a singular falling-off in the attendance of the +Brampton Club. Ephraim sat alone most of the day in his Windsor chair by +the stove, pretending to read newspapers. But he did not mention this +fact to Cynthia. He was more lonesome than ever on the Saturdays and +Sundays which she spent with Jethro Bass. + +Jethro Bass! It is he who might be made the theme of the music of the +snarling trumpets. What was he about during those six weeks? That is +what the state at large was beginning to wonder, and the state at large +was looking on at a drama, too. A rumor reached the capital and radiated +thence to every city and town and hamlet, and was followed by other +rumors like confirmations. Jethro Bass, for the first time in a long +life of activity, was inactive: inactive, too, at this most critical +period of his career, the climax of it, with a war to be waged which for +bitterness and ferocity would have no precedent; with the town meetings +at hand, where the frontier fighting was to be done, and no quarter +given. Lieutenants had gone to Coniston for further orders and +instructions, and had come back without either. Achilles was sulking in +the tannery house--some said a broken Achilles. Not a word could be got +out of him, or the sign of an intention. Jake Wheeler moped through the +days in Rias Richardson's store, too sore at heart to speak to any man, +and could have wept if tears had been a relief to him. No more blithe +errands over the mountain to Clovelly and elsewhere, though Jake knew the +issue now and itched for the battle, and the vassals of the hill-Rajah +under a jubilant Bijah Bixby were arming cap-a-pie. Lieutenant-General- +and-Senator Peleg Hartington of Brampton, in his office over the livery +stable, shook his head like a mournful stork when questioned by brother +officers from afar. Operations were at a standstill, and the sinews of +war relaxed. Rural givers of mortgages, who had not had the opportunity +of selling them or had feared to do so, began (mirabile dictu) to express +opinions. Most ominous sign of all--the proprietor of the Pelican Hotel +had confessed that the Throne Room had not been engaged for the coming +session. + +Was it possible that Jethro Bass lay crushed under the weight of the +accusations which had been printed, and were still being printed, in the +Newcastle Guardian? He did not answer them, or retaliate in other +newspapers, but Jethro Bass had never made use of newspapers in this way. +Still, nothing ever printed about him could be compared with those +articles. Had remorse suddenly overtaken him in his old age? Such were +the questions people we're asking all over the state--people, at least, +who were interested in politics, or in those operations which went by the +name of politics: yes, and many private citizens--who had participated in +politics only to the extent of voting for such candidates as Jethro in +his wisdom had seen fit to give them, read the articles and began to say +that boss domination was at an end. A new era was at hand, which they +fondly (and very properly) believed was to be a golden era. It was, +indeed, to be a golden era--until things got working; and then the gold +would cease. The Newcastle Guardian, with unconscious irony, proclaimed +the golden era; and declared that its columns, even in other days and +under other ownership, had upheld the wisdom of Jethro Bass. And he was +still a wise man, said the Guardian, for he had had sense enough to give +up the fight. + +Had he given up the fight? Cynthia fervently hoped and prayed that he +had, but she hoped and prayed in silence. Well she knew, if the event in +the tannery shed had not made him abandon his affairs, no appeal could do +so. Her happiest days in this period were the Saturdays and Sundays +spent with him in Coniston, and as the weeks went by she began to believe +that the change, miraculous as it seemed, had indeed taken place. He had +given up his power. It was a pleasure that made the weeks bearable for +her. What did it matter--whether he had made the sacrifice for the sake +of his love for her? He had made it. + +On these Saturdays and Sundays they went on long drives together over the +hills, while she talked to him of her life in Brampton or the books she +was reading, and of those she had chosen for him to read. Sometimes they +did not turn homeward until the delicate tracery of the branches on the +snow warned them of the rising moon. Jethro was often silent for hours +at a time, but it seemed to Cynthia that it was the silence of peace--of +a peace he had never known before. There came no newspapers to the +tannery house now: during the mid-week he read the books of which she had +spoken William Wetherell's books; or sat in thought, counting, perhaps; +the days until she should come again. And the boy of those days for him +was more pathetic than much that is known to the world as sorrow. + +And what did Coniston think? Coniston, indeed, knew not what to think, +when, little by little, the great men ceased to drive up to the door of +the tannery house, and presently came no more. Coniston sank then from +its proud position as the real capital of the state to a lonely hamlet +among the hills. Coniston, too, was watching the drama, and had had a +better view of the stage than Brampton, and saw some reason presently for +the change in Jethro Bass. Not that Mr. Satterlee told, but such +evidence was bound, in the end, to speak for itself. The Newcastle +Guardian had been read and debated at the store--debated with some heat +by Chester Perkins and other mortgagors; discussed, nevertheless, in a +political rather than a moral light. Then Cynthia had returned home; her +face had awed them by its sorrow, and she had begun to earn her own +living. Then the politicians had ceased to come. The credit belongs to +Rias Richardson for hawing been the first to piece these three facts +together, causing him to burn his hand so severely on the stove that he +had to carry it bandaged in soda for a week. Cynthia Wetherell had +reformed Jethro. + +Though the village loved and revered Cynthia, Coniston as a whole did not +rejoice in that reform. The town had fallen from its mighty estate, and +there were certain envious ones who whispered that it had remained for a +young girl who had learned city ways to twist Jethro around her finger; +that she had made him abandon his fight with Isaac D. Worthington because +Mr. Worthington had a son--but there is no use writing such scandal. +Stripped of his power--even though he stripped himself--Jethro began to +lose their respect, a trait tending to prove that the human race may have +had wolves for ancestors as well as apes. People had small opportunity, +however, of showing a lack of respect to his person, for in these days he +noticed no one and spoke to none. + +When the lion is crippled, the jackals begin to range. A jackal +reconnoitered the lair to see how badly the lion was crippled, and +conceived with astounding insolence the plan of capturing the lion's +quarry. This jackal, who was an old one, well knew how to round up a +quarry, and fled back over the hills to consult with a bigger jackal, his +master. As a result, two days before March town-meeting day, Mr. Bijah +Bixby paid a visit to the Harwich bank and went among certain Coniston +farmers looking over the sheep, his clothes bulging out in places when he +began, and seemingly normal enough when he had finished. History repeats +itself, even among lions and jackals. Thirty-six years before there had +been a town-meeting in Coniston and a surprise. Established Church, +decent and orderly selectmen and proceedings had been toppled over that +day, every outlying farm sending its representative through the sleet to +do it. And now retribution was at hand. This March-meeting day was +mild, the grass showing a green color on the south slopes where the snow +had melted, and the outlying farmers drove through mud-holes up to the +axles. Drove, albeit, in procession along the roads, grimly enough, and +the sheds Jock Hallowell had built around the meeting-house could not +hold the horses; they lined the fences and usurped the hitching posts of +the village street, and still they came. Their owners trooped with muddy +boots into the meeting-house, and when the moderator rapped for order the +Chairman of the Board of Selectmen, Jethro Bass, was not in his place; +never, indeed, would be there again. Six and thirty years he had been +supreme in that town--long enough for any man. The beams and king posts +would know him no more. Mr. Amos Cuthbert was elected Chairman, not +without a gallant and desperate but unsupported fight of a minority led +by Mr. Jake Wheeler, whose loyalty must be taken as a tribute to his +species. Farmer Cuthbert was elected, and his mortgage was not +foreclosed! Had it been, there was more money in the Harwich bank. + +There was no telegraph to Coniston in these days, and so Mr. Sam Price, +with his horse in a lather, might have been seen driving with unseemly +haste toward Brampton, where in due time he arrived. Half an hour later +there was excitement at Newcastle, sixty-five miles away, in the office +of the Guardian, and the next morning the excitement had spread over the +whole state. + +Jethro Bass was dethroned in Coniston--discredited in his own town! + +And where was Jethro? Did his heart ache, did he bow his head as he +thought of that supremacy, so hardly won, so superbly held, gone forever? +Many were the curious eyes on the tannery house that day, and for days +after, but its owner gave no signs of concern. He read and thought and +chopped wood in the tannery shed as usual. Never, I believe, did man, +shorn of power, accept his lot more quietly. His struggle was over, his +battle was fought, a greater peace than he had ever thought to hope for +was won. For the opinion and regard of the world he had never cared. A +greater reward awaited him, greater than any knew--the opinion and regard +and the praise of one whom he loved beyond all the world. On Friday she +came to him, on Friday at sunset, for the days were growing longer, and +that was the happiest sunset of his life. She said nothing as she raised +her face to his and kissed him and clung to him in the little parlor, but +he knew, and he had his reward. So much for earthly power Cynthia +brought the little rawhide trunk this time, and came to Coniston for the +March vacation--a happy two weeks that was soon gone. Happy by +comparison, that is, with what they both had suffered, and a haven of +rest after the struggle and despair of the wilderness. The bond between +them had, in truth, never been stronger, for both the young girl and the +old man had denied themselves the thing they held most dear. Jethro had +taken refuge and found comfort in his love. But Cynthia! Her greatest +love had now been bestowed elsewhere. + +If there were letters for the tannery house, Milly Skinner, who made it a +point to meet the stage, brought them. And there were letters during +Cynthia's sojourn,--many of them, bearing the Cambridge postmark. One +evening it was Jethro who laid the letter on the table beside her as she +sat under the lamp. He did not look at her or speak, but she felt that +he knew her secret--felt that he deserved to have from her own lips what +he had been too proud--yes--and too humble to ask. Whose sympathy could +she be sure of, if not of his? Still she had longed to keep this +treasure to herself. She took the letter in her hand. + +"I do not answer them, Uncle Jethro, but--I cannot prevent his writing +them," she faltered. She did not confess that she kept them, every one, +and read them over and over again; that she had grown, indeed, to look +forward to them as to a sustenance. "I--I do love him, but I will not +marry him." + +Yes, she could be sure of Jethro's sympathy, though he could not express +it in words. Yet she had not told him for this. She had told him, much +as the telling had hurt her, because she feared to cut him more deeply by +her silence. + +It was a terrible moment for Jethro, and never had he desired the gift of +speech as now. Had it not been for him; Cynthia might have been Robert +Worthington's wife. He sat down beside her and put his hand over hers +that lay on the letter in her lap. It was the only answer he could make, +but perhaps it was the best, after all. Of what use were words at such a +time! + +Four days afterward, on a Monday morning, she went back to Brampton to +begin the new term. + +That same Monday a circumstance of no small importance took place in +Brampton--nothing less than the return, after a prolonged absence in the +West and elsewhere, of its first citizen. Isaac D. Worthington was again +in residence. No bells were rung, indeed, and no delegation of citizens +as such, headed by the selectmen, met him at the station; and other +feudal expressions of fealty were lacking. No staff flew Mr. +Worthington's arms; nevertheless the lord of Brampton was in his castle +again, and Brampton felt that he was there. He arrived alone, wearing +the silk hat which had become habitual with him now, and stepping into +his barouche at the station had been driven up Brampton Street behind his +grays, looking neither to the right nor left. His reddish chop whiskers +seemed to cling a little more closely to his face than formerly, and long +years of compression made his mouth look sterner than ever. A hawk-like +man, Isaac Worthington, to be reckoned with and feared, whether in a +frock coat or in breastplate and mail. + +His seneschal, Mr. Flint, was awaiting him in the library. Mr. Flint was +large and very ugly, big-boned, smooth-shaven, with coarse features all +askew, and a large nose with many excrescences, and thick lips. He was +forty-two. From a foreman of the mills he had risen, step by step, to +his present position, which no one seemed able to define. He was, +indeed, a seneschal. He managed the mills in his lord's absence, and--if +the truth be told--in his presence; knotty questions of the Truro +Railroad were brought to Mr. Flint and submitted to Mr. Worthington, who +decided them, with Mr. Flint's advice; and, within the last three months, +Mr. Flint had invaded the realm of politics, quietly, as such a man +would, under the cover of his patron's name and glory. Mr. Flint it was +who had bought the Newcastle Guardian, who went occasionally to Newcastle +and spoke a few effective words now and then to the editor; and, if the +truth will out, Mr. Flint had largely conceived that scheme about the +railroads which was to set Mr. Worthington on the throne of the state, +although the scheme was not now being carried out according to Mr. +Flint's wishes. Mr. Flint was, in a sense, a Bismarck, but he was not as +yet all powerful. Sometimes his august master or one of his fellow petty +sovereigns would sweep Mr. Flint's plans into the waste basket, and then +Mr. Flint would be content to wait. To complete the character sketch, +Mr. Flint was not above hanging up his master's hat and coat, Which he +did upon the present occasion, and went up to Mr. Worthington's bedroom +to fetch a pocket handkerchief out of the second drawer. He even knew +where the handkerchiefs were kept. Lucky petty sovereigns sometimes +possess Mr. Flints to make them emperors. + +The august personage seated himself briskly at his desk. + +"So that scoundrel Bass is actually discredited at last," he said, +blowing his nose in the pocket handkerchief Mr. Flint had brought him. +"I lose patience when I think how long we've stood the rascal in this +state. I knew the people would rise in their indignation when they +learned the truth about him." + +Mr. Flint did not answer this. He might have had other views. + +"I wonder we did not think of it before," Mr. Worthington continued. "A +very simple remedy, and only requiring a little courage and--and--" (Mr. +Worthington was going to say money, but thought better of it) "and the +chimera disappears. I congratulate you, Flint." + +"Congratulate yourself," said Mr. Flint; "that would not have been my +way." + +"Very well, I congratulate myself," said the august personage, who was in +too good a humor to be put out by the rejection of a compliment. "You +remember what I said: the time was ripe, just publish a few biographical +articles telling people what he was, and Jethro Bass would snuff out like +a candle. Mr. Duncan tells me the town-meeting results are very good all +over the state. Even if we hadn't knocked out Jethro Bass, we'd have a +fair majority for our bill in the next legislature." + +"You know Bass's saying," answered Mr. Flint, "You can hitch that kind of +a hoss, but they won't always stay hitched." + +"I know, I know," said Mr. Worthington; "don't croak, Flint. We can buy +more hitch ropes, if necessary. Well, what's the outlay up to the +present? Large, I suppose. Well, whatever it is, it's small compared to +what we'll get for it." He laughed a little and rubbed his hands, and +then he remembered that capacity in which he stood before the world. +Yes, and he stood before himself in the same capacity. Isaac Worthington +may have deceived himself, but he may or may not have been a hero to his +seneschal. "We have to fight fire with fire," he added, in a pained +voice. "Let me see the account." + +"I have tabulated the expense in the different cities and towns," +answered Mr. Flint; "I will show you the account in a little while. The +expenses in Coniston were somewhat greater than the size of the town +justified, perhaps. But Sutton thought--" + +"Yes, yes," interrupted Mr. Worthington, "if it had cost as much to carry +Coniston as Newcastle, it would have been worth it--for the moral effect +alone." + +Moral effect! Mr. Flint thought of Mr. Bixby with his bulging pockets +going about the hills, and smiled at the manner in which moral effects +are sometimes obtained. + +"Any news, Flint?" + +No news yet, Mr. Flint might have answered. In a few minutes there might +be news, and plenty of it, for it lay ready to be hatched under Mr. +Worthington's eye. A letter in the bold and upright hand of his son was +on the top of the pile, placed there by Mr. Flint himself, who had +examined Mr. Worthington's face closely when he came in to see how much +he might know of its contents. He had decided that Mr. Worthington was +in too good a humor to know anything of them. Mr. Flint had not steamed +the letter open, and read the news; but he could guess at them pretty +shrewdly, and so could have the biggest fool in Brampton. That letter +contained the opening scene of the next act in the drama. + +Mr. Worthington cut the envelope and began to read, and while he did so +Mr. Flint, who was not afraid of man or beast, looked at him. It was a +manly and straight forward letter, and Mr. Worthington, no matter what +his opinions on the subject were, should have been proud of it. Bob +announced, first of all, that he was going to marry Cynthia Wetherell; +then he proceeded with praiseworthy self-control (for a lover) to +describe Cynthia's character and attainments: after which he stated that +Cynthia had refused him--twice, because she believed that Mr. Worthington +would oppose the marriage, and had declared that she would never be the +cause of a breach between father and son. Bob asked for his father's +consent, and hoped to have it, but he thought it only right to add that +he had given his word and his love, and did not mean to retract either. +He spoke of his visit to Brampton, and explained that Cynthia was +teaching school there, and urged his father to see her before he made a +decision. Mr. Worthington read it through to the end, his lips closing +tighter and tighter until his mouth was but a line across his face. +There was pain in the face, too, the kind of pain which anger sends, and +which comes with the tottering of a pride that is false. Of what +gratification now was the overthrow of Jethro Bass? + +He stared at the letter for a moment after he had finished it, and his +face grew a dark red. Then he seized the paper and tore it slowly, +deliberately, into bits. + +Dudley Worthington was not thinking then--not he!--of the young man in +the white beaver who had called at the Social Library many years before +to see a young woman whose name, too, had been Cynthia.--He was thinking, +in fact, for he was a man to think in anger, whether it were not possible +to remove this Cynthia from the face of the earth--at least to a place +beyond his horizon and that of his son. Had he worn the chain mail +instead of the frock coat he would have had her hung outside the town +walls. + +"Good God!" he exclaimed. And the words sounded profane indeed as he +fixed his eyes upon Mr. Flint. "You knew that Robert had been to +Brampton." + +"Yes," said Flint, "the whole village knew it." + +"Good God!" cried Mr. Worthington again, "why was I not informed of this? +Why was I not warned of this? Have I no friends? Do you pretend to look +after my interests and not take the trouble to write me on such a +subject." + +"Do you think I could have prevented it?" asked Mr. Flint, very calmly. + +"You allow this--this woman to come here to Brampton and teach school in +a place where she can further her designs? What were you about?" + +"When the prudential committee appointed her, nothing of this was known, +Mr. Worthington." + +"Yes, but now--now! What are you doing, what are they doing to allow her +to remain? Who are on that committee?" + +Mr. Flint named the men. They had been reelected, as usual, at the +recent town-meeting. Mr. Errol, who had also been reelected, had +returned but had not yet issued the certificate or conducted the +examination. + +"Send for them, have them here at once," commanded Mr. Worthington, +without listening to this. + +"If you take my advice, you will do nothing of the kind," said Mr. Flint, +who, as usual, had the whole situation at his fingers' ends. He had +taken the trouble to inform himself about the girl, and he had +discovered, shrewdly enough, that she was the kind which might be led, +but not driven. If Mr. Flint's advice had been listened to, this story +might have had quite a different ending. But Mr. Flint had not reached +the stage where his advice was always listened to, and he had a maddened +man to deal with now. At that moment, as if fate had determined to +intervene, the housemaid came into the room. + +"Mr. Dodd to see you, sir," she said. + +"Show him in," shouted Mr. Worthington; "show him in!" + +Mr. Dodd was not a man who could wait for a summons which he had felt in +his bones was coming. He was ordinarily, as we have seen, officious. +But now he was thoroughly frightened. He had seen the great man in the +barouche as he drove past the hardware store, and he had made up his mind +to go up at once, and have it over with. His opinions were formed now, +He put a smile on his face when he was a foot outside of the library +door. + +"This is a great pleasure, Mr. Worthington, a great pleasure, to see you +back," he said, coming forward. "I callated--" + +But the great man sat in his chair, and made no attempt to return the +greeting. + +"Mr. Dodd, I thought you were my friend," he said. + +Mr. Dodd went all to pieces at this reception. + +"So I be, Mr. Worthington--so I be," he cried. "That's why I'm here now. +I've b'en a friend of yours ever since I can remember--never fluctuated. +I'd rather have chopped my hand off than had this happen--so I would. If +I could have foreseen what she was, she'd never have had the place, as +sure as my name's Levi Dodd." + +If Mr. Dodd had taken the trouble to look at the seneschal's face, he +would have seen a well-defined sneer there. + +"And now that you know what she is," cried Mr. Worthington, rising and +smiting the pile of letters on his desk, "why do you keep her there an +instant?" + +Mr. Dodd stopped to pick up the letters, which had flown over the floor. +But the great man was now in the full tide of his anger. + +"Never mind the letters," he shouted; "tell me why you keep her there." + +"We callated we'd wait and see what steps you'd like taken," said the +trembling townsman. + +"Steps! Steps! Good God! What kind of man are you to serve in such a +place when you allow the professed ward of Jethro Bass--of Jethro Bass, +the most notoriously depraved man in this state, to teach the children of +this town. Steps! How soon can you call your committee together?" + +"Right away," answered Mr. Dodd, breathlessly. He would have gone on to +exculpate himself, but Mr. Worthington's inexorable finger was pointing +at the door. + +"If you are a friend of mine," said that gentleman, "and if you have any +regard for the fair name of this town, you will do so at once." + +Mr. Dodd departed precipitately, and Mr. Worthington began to pace the +room, clasping his hands now in front of him, now behind him, in his +agony: repeating now and again various appellations which need not be +printed here, which he applied in turn to the prudential committee, to +his son, and to Cynthia Wetherell. + +"I'll run her out of Brampton," he said at last. + +"If you do," said Mr. Flint, who had been watching him apparently +unmoved, "you may have Jethro Bass on your back." + +"Jethro Bass?" shouted Mr. Worthington, with a laugh that was not +pleasant to hear, "Jethro Bass is as dead as Julius Caesar." + +It was one thing for Mr. Dodd to promise so readily a meeting of the +committee, and quite another to decide how he was going to get through +the affair without any more burns and scratches than were absolutely +necessary. He had reversed the usual order, and had been in the fire-- +now he was going to the frying-pan. He stood in the street for some +time, pulling at his tuft, and then made his way to Mr. Jonathan Hill's +feed store. Mr. Hill was reading "Sartor Resartus" in his little office, +the temperature of which must have been 95, and Mr. Dodd was perspiring +when he got there. + +"It's come," said Mr. Dodd, sententiously. + +"What's come?" inquired Mr. Hill, mildly. + +"Isaac D.'s come, that's what," said Mr. Dodd. "I hain't b'en sleepin' +well of nights, lately. I can't think what we was about, Jonathan, +puttin' that girl in the school. We'd ought to've knowed she wahn't +fit." + +"What's the matter with her?" inquired Mr. Hill. + +"Matter with her!" exclaimed his fellow-committeeman, "she lives with +Jethro Bass--she's his ward." + +"Well, what of it?" said Mr. Hill, who never bothered himself about +gossip or newspapers, or indeed about anything not between the covers of +a book, except when he couldn't help it. + +"Good God!" exclaimed Mr. Dodd, "he's the most notorious, depraved man in +the state. Hain't we got to look out for the fair name of Brampton?" + +Mr. Hill sighed and closed his book. + +"Well," he said; "I'd hoped we were through with that. Let's go up and +see what Judge Graves says about it." + +"Hold on," said Mr. Dodd, seizing the feed dealer by the coat, "we've got +to get it fixed in our minds what we're goin' to do, first. We can't +allow no notorious people in our schools. We've got to stand up to the +jedge, and tell him so. We app'inted her on his recommendation, you +know." + +"I like the girl," replied Mr. Hill. "I don't think we ever had a better +teacher. She's quiet, and nice appearin', and attends to her business." + +Mr. Dodd pulled his tuft, and cocked his head. + +"Mr. Worthington holds a note of yours, don't he, Jonathan?" + +Mr. Hill reflected. He said he thought perhaps Mr. Worthington did. + +"Well," said Mr. Dodd, "I guess we might as well go along up to the jedge +now as any time." + +But when they got there Mr. Dodd's knock was so timid that he had to +repeat it before the judge came to the door and peered at them over his +spectacles. + +"Well, gentlemen, what can I do for you?" he asked, severely, though he +knew well enough. He had not been taken by surprise many times during +the last forty years. Mr. Dodd explained that they wished a little +meeting of the committee. The judge ushered them into his bedroom, the +parlor being too good for such an occasion. + +"Now, gentlemen," said he, "let us get down to business. Mr. Worthington +arrived here to-day, he has seen Mr. Dodd, and Mr. Dodd has seen Mr. +Hill. Mr. Worthington is a political opponent of Jethro Bass, and wishes +Miss Wetherell dismissed. Mr. Dodd and Mr. Hill have agreed, for various +reasons which I will spare you, that Miss Wetherell should be dismissed. +Have I stated the case, gentlemen, or have I not?" + +Mr. Graves took off his spectacles and wiped them, looking from one to +the other of his very uncomfortable fellow-members. Mr. Hill did not +attempt to speak; but Mr. Dodd, who was not sure now that this was not +the fire and the other the frying-pan, pulled at his tuft until words +came to him. + +"Jedge," he said finally, "I must say I'm a mite surprised. I must say +your language is unwarranted." + +"The truth is never unwarranted," said the judge. + +"For the sake of the fair name of Brampton," began Mr. Dodd, "we cannot +allow--" + +"Mr. Dodd," interrupted the judge, "I would rather have Mr. Worthington's +arguments from Mr. Worthington himself, if I wanted them at all. There +is no need of prolonging this meeting. If I were to waste my breath +until six o'clock, it would be no use. I was about to say that your +opinions were formed, but I will alter that, and say that your minds are +fixed. You are determined to dismiss Miss Wetherell. Is it not so?" + +"I wish you'd hear me, Jedge," said Mr. Dodd, desperately. + +"Will you kindly answer me yes or no to that question," said the judge; +"my time is valuable." + +"Well, if you put it that way, I guess we are agreed that she hadn't +ought to stay. Not that I've anything against her personally--" + +"All right," said the judge, with a calmness that made them tremble. +They had never bearded him before. "All right, you are two to one and no +certificate has been issued. But I tell you this, gentlemen, that you +will live to see the day when you will bitterly regret this injustice to +an innocent and a noble woman, and Isaac D. Worthington will live to +regret it. You may tell him I said so. Good day, gentlemen." + +They rose. + +"Jedge," began Mr. Dodd again, "I don't think you've been quite fair with +us." + +"Fair!" repeated the judge, with unutterable scorn. "Good day, +gentlemen." And he slammed the door behind them. + +They walked down the street some distance before either of them spoke. + +"Goliah," said Mr. Dodd, at last, "did you ever hear such talk? He's got +the drattedest temper of any man I ever knew, and he never callates to +make a mistake. It's a little mite hard to do your duty when a man talks +that way." + +"I'm not sure we've done it," answered Mr. Hill. + +"Not sure!" ejaculated the hardware dealer, for he was now far enough +away from the judge's house to speak in his normal tone, "and she +connected with that depraved--" + +"Hold on," said Mr. Hill, with an astonishing amount of spirit for him, +"I've heard that before." + +Mr. Dodd looked at him, swallowed the wrong way and began to choke. + +"You hain't wavered, Jonathan?" he said, when he got his breath. + +"No, I haven't," said Mr. Hill, sadly; "but I wish to hell I had." + +Mr. Dodd looked at him again, and began to choke again. It was the first +time he had known Jonathan Hill to swear. + +"You're a-goin' to stick by what you agreed--by your principles?" + +"I'm going to stick by my bread and butter," said Mr. Hill, "not by my +principles. I wish to hell I wasn't." + +And so saying that gentleman departed, cutting diagonally across the +street through the snow, leaving Mr. Dodd still choking and pulling at +his tuft. This third and totally-unexpected shaking-up had caused him to +feel somewhat deranged internally, though it had not altered the opinions +now so firmly planted in his head. After a few moments, however, he had +collected himself sufficiently to move on once more, when he discovered +that he was repeating to himself, quite unconsciously, Mr. Hill's +profanity "I wish to hell I wasn't." The iron mastiffs glaring at him +angrily out of the snow banks reminded him that he was in front of Mr. +Worthington's door, and he thought he might as well go in at once and +receive the great man's gratitude. He certainly deserved it. But as he +put his hand on the bell Mr. Worthington himself came out of the house, +and would actually have gone by without noticing Mr. Dodd if he had not +spoken. + +"I've got that little matter fixed, Mr. Worthington," he said, "called +the committee, and we voted to discharge the--the young woman." No, he +did not deliver Judge Graves's message. + +"Very well, Mr. Dodd," answered the great man, passing on so that Mr. +Dodd was obliged to follow him in order to hear, "I'm glad you've come to +your senses at last. Kindly step into the library and tell Miss Bruce +from me that she may fill the place to-morrow." + +"Certain," said Mr. Dodd, with his hand to his chin. He watched the +great man turn in at his bank in the new block, and then he did as he was +bid. + +By the time school was out that day the news had leaped across Brampton +Street and spread up and down both sides of it that the new teacher had +been dismissed. The story ran fairly straight--there were enough clews, +certainly. The great man's return, the visit of Mr. Dodd, the call on +Judge Graves, all had been marked. The fiat of the first citizen had +gone forth that the ward of Jethro Bass must be got rid of; the designing +young woman who had sought to entrap his son must be punished for her +amazing effrontery. + +Cynthia came out of school happily unaware that her name was on the lips +of Brampton: unaware, too, that the lord of the place had come into +residence that day. She had looked forward to living in the same town +with Bob's father as an evil which was necessary to be borne, as one of +the things which are more or less inevitable in the lives of those who +have to make their own ways in the world. The children trooped around +her, and the little girls held her hand, and she talked and laughed with +them as she came up the street in the eyes of Brampton,--came up the +street to the block of new buildings where the bank was. Stepping out of +the bank, with that businesslike alertness which characterized him, was +the first citizen--none other. He found himself entangled among the +romping children and--horror of horrors he bumped into the schoolmistress +herself! Worse than this, he had taken off his hat and begged her pardon +before he looked at her and realized the enormity of his mistake. And +the schoolmistress had actually paid no attention to him, but with merely +heightened color had drawn the children out of his way and passed on +without a word. The first citizen, raging inwardly, but trying to appear +unconcerned, walked rapidly back to his house. On the street of his own +town, before the eyes of men, he had been snubbed by a school-teacher. +And such a schoolteacher! + +Mr. Worthington, as he paced his library burning with the shame of this +occurrence, remembered that he had had to glance at her twice before it +came over him who she was. His first sensation had been astonishment. +And now, in spite of his bitter anger, he had to acknowledge that the +face had made an impression on him--a fact that only served to increase +his rage. A conviction grew upon him that it was a face which his son, +or any other man, would not be likely to forget. He himself could not +forget it. + +In the meantime Cynthia had reached her home, her cheeks still smarting, +conscious that people had stared at her. This much, of course, she knew +--that Brampton believed Bob Worthington to be in love with her: and the +knowledge at such times made her so miserable that the thought of +Jethro's isolation alone deterred her from asking Miss Lucretia Penniman +for a position in Boston. For she wrote to Miss Lucretia about her life +and her reading, as that lady had made her promise to do. She sat down +now at the cherry chest of drawers that was also a desk, to write: not to +pour out her troubles, for she never had done that,--but to calm her mind +by drawing little character sketches of her pupils. But she had only +written the words, "My dear Miss Lucretia," when she looked out of the +window and saw Judge Graves coming up the path, and ran to open the door +for him. + +"How do you do, Judge?" she said, for she recognized Mr. Graves as one of +her few friends in Brampton. "I have sent to Boston for the new reader, +but it has not come." + +The judge took her hand and pressed it and led her into the little +sitting room. His face was very stern, but his eyes, which had flung +fire at Mr. Dodd, looked at her with a vast compassion. Her heart +misgave her. + +"My dear," he said,--it was long since the judge had called any woman "my +dear,"--"I have bad news for you. The committee have decided that you +cannot teach any longer in the Brampton school." + +"Oh, Judge," she answered, trying to force back the tears which would +come, "I have tried so hard. I had begun to believe that I could fill +the place." + +"Fill the place!" cried the judge, startling her with his sudden anger. +"No woman in the state can fill it better than you." + +"Then why am I dismissed?" she asked breathlessly. + +The judge looked at her in silence, his blue lips quivering. Sometimes +even he found it hard to tell the truth. And yet he had come to tell it, +that she might suffer less. He remembered the time when Isaac D. +Worthington had done him a great wrong. + +"You are dismissed," he said, "because Mr. Worthington has come home, and +because the two other members of the committee are dogs and cowards." +Mr. Graves never minced matters when he began, and his voice shook with +passion. "If Mr. Errol had examined you, and you had your certificate, +it might have been different. Errol is not a sycophant. Worthington +does not hold his mortgage." + +"Mortgage!" exclaimed Cynthia. The word always struck terror to her +soul. + +"Mr. Worthington holds Mr. Hill's mortgage," said Mr. Graves, more than +ever beside himself at the sight of her suffering. "That man's tyranny +is not to be borne. We will not give up, Cynthia. I will fight him in +this matter if it takes my last ounce of strength, so help me God!" + +Mortgage! Cynthia sank down in the chair by the desk. In spite of the +misery the news had brought, the thought that his father, too, who was +fighting Jethro Bass as a righteous man, dealt in mortgages and coerced +men to do his will, was overwhelming. So she sat for a while staring at +the landscape on the old wall paper. + +"I will go to Coniston to-night," she said at last. + +"No," cried the judge, seizing her shoulder in his excitement, "no. +Do you think that I have been your friend--that I am your friend?" + +"Oh, Judge Graves--" + +"Then stay here, where you are. I ask it as a favor to me. You need not +go to the school to-morrow--indeed, you cannot. But stay here for a day +or two at least, and if there is any justice left in a free country, we +shall have it. Will you stay, as a favor to me?" + +"I will stay, since you ask it," said Cynthia. "I will do what you think +right." + +Her voice was firmer than he expected--much firmer. He glanced at her +quickly, with something very like admiration in his eye. + +"You are a good woman, and a brave woman," he said, and with this +somewhat surprising tribute he took his departure instantly. + +Cynthia was left to her thoughts, and these were harassing and sorrowful +enough. One idea, however, persisted through them all. Mr. Worthington, +whose power she had lived long enough in Brampton to know, was an unjust +man and a hypocrite. That thought was both sweet and bitter: sweet, as a +retribution; and bitter, because he was Bob's father. She realized, now, +that Bob knew these things, and she respected and loved him the more, if +that were possible, because he had refrained from speaking of them to +her. And now another thought came, and though she put it resolutely from +her, persisted. Was she not justified now in marrying him? The +reasoning was false, so she told herself. She had no right to separate +Bob from his father, whatever his father might be. Did not she still +love Jethro Bass? Yes, but he had renounced his ways. Her heart swelled +gratefully as she spoke the words to herself, and she reflected that he, +at least, had never been a hypocrite. + +Of one thing she was sure, now. In the matter of the school she had +right on her side, and she must allow Judge Graves to do whatever he +thought proper to maintain that right. If Isaac D. Worthington's +character had been different, this would not have been her decision. Now +she would not leave Brampton in disgrace, when she had done nothing to +merit it. Not that she believed that the judge would prevail against +such mighty odds. So little did she think so that she fell, presently, +into a despondency which in all her troubles had not overtaken her--the +despondency which comes even to the pure and the strong when they feel +the unjust strength of the world against them. In this state her eyes +fell on the letter she had started to Miss Lucretia Penniman, and in +desperation she began to write. + +It was a short letter, reserved enough, and quite in character. It was +right that she should defend herself, which she did with dignity, saying +that she believed the committee had no fault to find with her duties, but +that Mr. Worthington had seen fit to bring influence to bear upon them +because of her connection with Jethro Bass. + +It was not the whole truth, but Cynthia could not bring herself to write +of that other reason. At the end she asked, very simply, if Miss +Lucretia could find her something to do in Boston in case her dismissal +became certain. Then she put on her coat, and walked to the postoffice +to post the letter, for she resolved that there could be no shame without +reason for it. There was a little more color in her cheeks, and she held +her head high, preparing to be slighted. But she was not slighted, and +got more salutations, if anything, than usual. She was, indeed, in the +right not to hide her head, and policy alone would have forbade it, had +Cynthia thought of policy. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +Public opinion is like the wind--it bloweth where it listeth. It +whistled around Brampton the next day, whirling husbands and wives apart, +and families into smithereens. Brampton had a storm all to itself--save +for a sympathetic storm raging in Coniston--and all about a school- +teacher. + +Had Cynthia been a certain type of woman, she would have had all the men +on her side and all of her own sex against her. It is a decided point to +be recorded in her favor that she had among her sympathizers as many +women as men. But the excitement of a day long remembered in Brampton +began, for her, when a score or more of children assembled in front of +the little house, tramping down the snow on the grass plots, shouting for +her to come to school with them. Children give no mortgages, or keep no +hardware stores. + +Cynthia, trying to read in front of the fire, was all in a tremble at the +sound of the high-pitched little voices she had grown to love, and she +longed to go out and kiss them, every one. Her nature, however, shrank +from any act which might appear dramatic or sensational. She could not +resist going to the window and smiling at them, though they appeared but +dimly--little dancing figures in a mist. And when they shouted, the more +she shook her head and put her finger to her lips in reproof and vanished +from their sight. Then they trooped sadly on to school, resolved to make +matters as disagreeable as possible for poor Miss Bruce, who had not +offended in any way. + +Two other episodes worthy of a place in this act of the drama occurred +that morning, and one had to do with Ephraim. Poor Ephraim! His way had +ever been to fight and ask no questions, and in his journey through the +world he had gathered but little knowledge of it. He had limped home the +night before in a state of anger of which Cynthia had not believed him +capable, and had reappeared in the sitting room in his best suit of blue. + +"Where are you going, Cousin Eph?" Cynthia had asked suspiciously. + +"Never you mind, Cynthy." + +"But I do mind," she said, catching hold of his sleeve. "I won't let you +go until you confess." + +"I'm a-goin' to tell Isaac Worthington what I think of him, that's whar +I'm a-goin'," cried Ephraim "what I always hev thought of him sence he +sent a substitute to the war an' acted treasonable here to home talkin' +ag'in' Lincoln." + +"Oh, Cousin Eph, you mustn't," said Cynthia, clinging to him with all her +strength in her dismay. It had taken every whit of her influence to +persuade him to relinquish his purpose. Cynthia knew very well that +Ephraim meant to lay hands on Mr. Worthington, and it would indeed have +been a disastrous hour for the first citizen if the old soldier had ever +got into his library. Cynthia pointed out, as best she might, that it +would be an evil hour for her, too, and that her cause would be greatly +injured by such a proceeding; she knew very well that it would ruin +Ephraim, but he would not have listened to such an argument. + +The next thing he wished to do was to go to Coniston and rouse Jethro. +Cynthia's heart stood still when he proposed this, for it touched upon +her greatest fear,--which had impelled her to go to Coniston. But she +had hoped and believed that Jethro, knowing her feelings, would do +nothing--since for her sake he had chosen to give up his power. Now an +acute attack of rheumatism had come to her rescue, and she succeeded in +getting Ephraim off to bed, swathed in bandages. + +The next morning he had insisted upon hobbling away to the postoffice, +where in due time he was discovered by certain members of the Brampton +Club nailing to the wall a new engraving of Abraham Lincoln, and draping +it with a little silk flag he had bought in Boston. By which it will be +seen that a potion of the Club were coming back to their old haunt. This +portion, it may be surmised, was composed of such persons alone as were +likely to be welcomed by the postmaster. Some of these had grievances +against Mr. Worthington or Mr. Flint; others, in more prosperous +circumstances, might have been moved by envy of these gentlemen; still +others might have been actuated largely by righteous resentment at what +they deemed oppression by wealth and power. These members who came that +morning comprised about one-fourth of those who formerly had been in the +habit of dropping in for a chat, and their numbers were a fair indication +of the fact that those who from various motives took the part of the +schoolteacher in Brampton were as one to three. + +It is not necessary to repeat their expressions of indignation and +sympathy. There was a certain Mr. Gamaliel Ives in the town, belonging +to an old Brampton family, who would have been the first citizen if that +other first citizen had not, by his rise to wealth and power, so +completely overshadowed him. Mr. Ives owned a small mill on Coniston +Water below the town. He fairly bubbled over with civic pride, and he +was an authority on all matters. pertaining to Brampton's history. He +knew the "Hymn to Coniston" by heart. But we are digressing a little. +Mr. Ives, like that other Gamaliel of old, had exhorted his fellow- +townsmen to wash their hands of the controversy. But he was an intimate +of Judge Graves, and after talking with that gentleman he became a +partisan overnight; and when he had stopped to get his mail he had been +lured behind the window by the debate in progress. He was in the midst +of some impromptu remarks when he recognized a certain brisk step behind +him, and Isaac D. Worthington himself entered the sanctum! + +It must be explained that Mr. Worthington sometimes had an important +letter to be registered which he carried to the postoffice with his own +hands. On such occasions--though not a member of the Brampton Club--he +walked, as an overlord will, into any private place he chose, and +recognized no partitions or barriers. Now he handed the letter +(addressed to a certain person in Cambridge, Massachusetts) to the +postmaster. + +"You will kindly register that and give me a receipt, Mr. Prescott," he +said. + +Ephraim turned from his contemplation of the features of the martyred +President, and on his face was something of the look it might have worn +when he confronted his enemies over the log-works at Five Forks. No, for +there was a vast contempt in his gaze now, and he had had no contempt for +the Southerners, and would have shaken hands with any of them the moment +the battle was over. Mr. Worthington, in spite of himself, recoiled a +little before that look, fearing, perhaps, physical violence. + +"I hain't a-goin' to hurt you, Mr. Worthington," Ephraim said, "but I am +a-goin' to ask you to git out in front, and mighty quick. If you hev any +business with the postmaster, there's the window," and Ephraim pointed to +it with his twisted finger. "I don't allow nobody but my friends here, +Mr. Worthington, and people I respect." + +Mr. Worthington looked--well, eye-witnesses give various versions as to +how he looked. All agree that his lip trembled; some say his eyes +watered: at any rate, he quailed, stood a moment undecided, and then +swung on his heel and walked to the partition door. At this safe +distance he turned. + +"Mr. Prescott," he said, his voice quivering with passion and perhaps +another emotion, "I will make it my duty to report to the postmaster- +general the manner in which this office is run. Instead of attending to +your business, you make the place a resort for loafers and idlers. Good +morning, sir." + +Ten minutes later Mr. Flint himself came to register the letter. But it +was done at the window, and the loafers and idlers were still there. + +The curtain had risen again, indeed, and the action was soon fast enough +for the most impatient that day. No sooner had the town heard with bated +breath of the expulsion of the first citizen from the inner sanctuary of +the post-office, than the news of another event began to go the rounds. +Mr. Worthington had other and more important things to think about than +minor postmasters, and after his anger and--yes, and momentary fear had +subsided, he forgot the incident except to make a mental note to remember +to deprive Mr. Prescott of his postmastership, which he believed could be +done readily enough now that Jethro Bass was out of the way. Then he had +stepped into the bank, which he had come to regard as his own bank, as he +regarded most institutions in Brampton. He had, in the old days, been +president of it, as we know. He stepped into the bank, and then--he +stepped out again. + +Most people have experienced that sickly feeling of the diaphragm which +sometimes comes from a sadden shock. Mr. Worthington had it now as he +hurried up the street, and he presently discovered that he was walking in +the direction opposite to that of his own home. He crossed the street, +made a pretence of going into Mr. Goldthwaite's drug store, and hurried +back again. When he reached his own library, he found Mr. Flint busy +there at his desk. Mr. Flint rose. Mr. Worthington sat down and began +to pull the papers about in a manner which betrayed to his seneschal (who +knew every mood of his master) mental perturbation. + +"Flint," he said at last, striving his best for an indifferent accent, +"Jethro Bass is here--I ran across him just now drawing money in the +bank." + +"I could have told you that this morning," answered Mr. Flint. "Wheeler, +who runs errands for him in Coniston, drove him in this morning, and he's +been with Peleg Hartington for two hours over Sherman's livery stable." + +An interval of silence followed, during which Mr. Worthington shuffled +with his letters and pretended to read them. + +"Graves has called a mass meeting to-night, I understand," he remarked in +the same casual way. "The man's a demagogue, and mad as a loon. I +believe he sent back one of our passes once, didn't he? I suppose Bass +has come in to get Hartington to work up the meeting. They'll be laughed +out of the town hall, or hissed out." + +"I guess you'll find Bass has come down for something else," said Mr. +Flint, looking up from a division report. + +"What do you mean?" demanded Mr. Worthington, changing his attitude to +one of fierceness. But he was well aware that whatever tone he took with +his seneschal, he never fooled him. + +"I mean what I told you yesterday," said Flint, "that you've stirred up +the dragon." + +Even Mr. Flint did not know how like a knell his words sounded in Isaac +Worthington's ears. + +"Nonsense!" he cried, "you're talking nonsense, Flint. We maimed him too +thoroughly for that. He hasn't power enough left to carry his own town." + +"All right," said the seneschal. + +"What do you mean by that?" said his master, with extreme irritation. + +"I mean what I said yesterday, that we haven't maimed him at all. He had +his own reasons for going into his hole, and he never would have come out +again if you hadn't goaded him. Now he's out, and we'll have to step +around pretty lively, I can tell you, or he'll maim us." + +All of which goes to show that Mr. Flint had some notion of men and +affairs. He became, as may be predicted, the head of many material +things in later days, and he may sometime reappear in company with other +characters in this story. + +The sickly feeling in Mr. Worthington's diaphragm had now returned. + +"I think you will find you are mistaken, Flint," he said, attempting +dignity now. "Very much mistaken." + +"Very well," said Flint, "perhaps I am. But I believe you'll find he +left for the capital on the eleven o'clock, and if you take the trouble +to inquire from Bedding you will probably learn that the Throne Room is +bespoken for the session." + +All of that which Mr, Flint had predicted turned out to be true. The +dragon had indeed waked up. It all began with the news Milly Skinner had +got from the stage driver, imparted to Jethro as he sat reading about +Hiawatha. And terrible indeed had been that awakening. This dragon did +not bellow and roar and lash his tail when he was roused, but he stood +up, and there seemed to emanate from him a fire which frightened poor +Milly Skinner, upset though she was by the news of Cynthia's dismissal. +O, wondrous and paradoxical might of love, which can tame the most +powerful of beasts, and stir them again into furies by a touch! + +Coniston was the first to tremble, as though the forces stretching +themselves in the tannery house were shaking the very ground, and the +name of Jethro Bass took on once more, as by magic, a terrible meaning. +When Vesuvius is silent, pygmies may make faces on the very lip of the +crater, and they on the slopes forget the black terror of the fiery hail. +Jake Wheeler himself, loyal as he was, did not care to look into the +crater now that he was summoned; but a force pulled him all the way to +the tannery house. He left behind him an awe-stricken gathering at the +store, composed of inhabitants who had recently spoken slightingly of the +volcano. + +We are getting a little mixed in our metaphors between lions and dragons +and volcanoes, and yet none of them are too strong to represent Jethro +Bass when he heard that Isaac Worthington had had the teacher dismissed +from Brampton lower school. He did not stop to reason then that action +might distress her. The beast in him awoke again; the desire for +vengeance on a man whom he had hated most of his life, and who now had +dared to cause pain to the woman whom he loved with all his soul, and +even idolize, was too great to resist. He had no thought of resisting +it, for the waters of it swept over his soul like the Atlantic over a +lost continent. He would crush Isaac Worthington if it took the last +breath from his body. + +Jake went to the tannery house and received his orders--orders of which +he made a great mystery afterward at the store, although they consisted +simply of directions to be prepared to drive Jethro to Brampton the next +morning. But the look of the man had frightened Jake. He had never seen +vengeance so indelibly written on that face, and he had never before +realized the terrible power of vengeance. Mr. Wheeler returned from that +meeting in such a state of trepidation that he found it necessary to +accompany Rias to a certain keg in the cellar; after which he found his +tongue. His description of Jethro's appearance awed his hearers, and +Jake declared that he would not be in Isaac Worthington's shoes for all +of Isaac Worthington's money. There were others right here in Coniston, +Jake hinted, who might now find it convenient to emigrate to the far +West. + +Jethro's face had not changed when Jake drove him out of Coniston the +next morning. Good Mr. Satterlee saw it, and felt that the visit he had +wished to make would have been useless; Mr. Amos Cuthbert and Mr. Sam +Price saw it, from a safe distance within the store, and it is a fact +that Mr. Price seriously thought of taking Mr. Wheeler's advice about a +residence in the West; Mr. Cuthbert, of a sterner nature, made up his +mind to be hung and quartered. A few minutes before Jethro walked into +his office over the livery stable, Senator Peleg Hartington would have +denied, with that peculiar and mournful scorn of which he was master, +that Jethro Bass could ever again have any influence over him. Peleg +was, indeed, at that moment preparing, in his own way, to make overtures +to the party of Isaac D. Worthington. Jethro walked into the office, +leaving Jake below with Mr. Sherman; and Senator Hartington was very glad +he had not made the overtures. And when he accompanied Jethro to the +station when he left for the capital, the senator felt that the eyes of +men were upon him. + +And Cynthia? Happily, Cynthia passed the day in ignorance that Jethro +had gone through Brampton. Ephraim, though he knew of it, did not speak +of it when he came home to his dinner; Mr. Graves had called, and +informed her of the meeting in the town hall that night. + +"It is our only chance," he said obdurately, in answer to her protests. +"We must lay the case before the people of Brampton. If they have not +the courage to right the wrong, and force your reinstatement through +public opinion, there is nothing more to be done." + +To Cynthia, the idea of having a mass meeting concerning herself was +particularly repellent. + +"Oh, Judge Graves!" she cried, "if there isn't any other way, please drop +the matter. There are plenty of teachers who will--be acceptable to +everybody." + +"Cynthia," said the judge, "I can understand that this publicity is very +painful to you. I beg you to remember that we are contending for a +principle. In such cases the individual must be sacrificed to the common +good." + +"But I cannot go to the meeting--I cannot." + +"No," said the judge; "I don't think that will be necessary." + +After he was gone, she could think of nothing but the horror of having +her name--yes, and her character--discussed in that public place; and it +seemed to her, if she listened, she could hear a clatter of tongues +throughout the length of Brampton Street, and that she must fain stop her +ears or go mad. The few ladies who called during the day out of kindness +or curiosity, or both, only added to her torture. She was not one who +could open her heart to acquaintances: the curious ones got but little +satisfaction, and the kind ones thought her cold, and they did not +perceive that she was really grateful for their little attentions. +Gratitude, on such occasions, does not always consist in pouring out +one's troubles in the laps of visitors. + +So the visitors went home, wondering whether it were worth while after +all to interest themselves in the cause of such a self-contained and +self-reliant young woman. In spite of all her efforts, Cynthia had never +wholly succeeded in making most of the Brampton ladies believe that she +did not secretly deem herself above them. They belonged to a reserved +race themselves; but Cynthia had a reserve which was even different from +their own. + +As night drew on the predictions of Mr. Worthington seemed likely to be +fulfilled, and it looked as if Judge Graves would have a useless bill to +pay for gas in the new town hall. The judge had never been a man who +could compel a following, and he had no magnetism with which to lead a +cause: the town tradesmen, especially those in the new brick block, would +be chary as to risking the displeasure of their best customer. At half- +past seven Mr. Graves: came in, alone, and sat on the platform staring +grimly at his gas. Is there a lecturer, or, a playwright, or a +politician, who has not, at one time or another, been in the judge's +place? Who cannot sympathize with him as he watched the thin and +hesitating stream of people out of the corner of his eye as they came in +at the door? The judge despised them with all his soul, but it is human +nature not to wish to sit in a hall or a theatre that is three-quarters +empty. + +At sixteen minutes to eight a mild excitement occurred, an incident of +some significance which served to detain many waverers. Senator Peleg +Hartington walked up the aisle, and the judge rose and shook him by the +hand, and as Deacon Hartington he was invited to sit on the platform. +The senator's personal influence was not to be ignored; and it had +sufficed to carry his district in the last election against the +Worthington forces, in spite of the abdication of Jethro Bass. Mr. Page, +the editor of the Clarion, Senator Hartington's organ, was also on the +platform. But where was Mr. Ives? Where was that Gamaliel who had been +such a warm partisan in the postoffice that morning? + +"Saw him outside the hall--wahn't but ten minutes ago," said Deacon +Hartington, sadly; "thought he was a-comin' in." + +Eight o'clock came, and no Mr. Ives; ten minutes past--fifteen minutes +past. If the truth must be told, Mr. Ives had been on the very threshold +of the hall, and one glance at the poor sprinkling of people there had +decided him. Mr. Ives had a natural aversion to being laughed at, and as +he walked back on the darker side of the street he wished heartily that +he had stuck to his original Gamaliel-advocacy of no interference, of +allowing the Supreme Judge to decide. Such opinions were inevitably +just, Mr. Ives was well aware, though not always handed down immediately. +If he were to humble the first citizen, Mr. Ives reflected that a better +opportunity might present itself. The whistle of the up-train served to +strengthen his resolution, for he was reminded thereby that his mill +often had occasion to ask favors of the Truro Railroad. + +In the meantime it was twenty minutes past eight in the town hall, and +Mr. Graves had not rapped for order. Deacon Hartington sat as motionless +as a stork on the borders of a glassy lake at sunrise, the judge had +begun seriously to estimate the gas bill, and Mr. Page had chewed up the +end of a pencil. There was one, at least, in the audience of whom the +judge could be sure. A certain old soldier in blue sat uncompromisingly +on the front bench with his hands crossed over the head of his stick; but +the ladies and gentlemen nearest the door were beginning to vanish, one +by one, silently as ghosts, when suddenly the judge sat up. He would +have rubbed his eyes, had he been that kind of a man. Four persons had +entered the hall--he was sure of it--and with no uncertain steps as if +frightened by its emptiness. No, they came boldly. And after them +trooped others, and still others were heard in the street beyond, not +whispering, but talking in the unmistakable tones of people who had more +coming behind them. Yes, and more came. It was no illusion, or +delusion: there they were filling the hall as if they meant to stay, and +buzzing with excitement. The judge was quivering with excitement now, +but he, too, was only a spectator of the drama. And what a drama, with a +miracle-play for Brampton! + +Mr. Page rose from his chair and leaned over the edge of the platform +that something might be whispered in his ear. The news, whatever it was, +was apparently electrifying, and after the first shock he turned to +impart it to Mr. Graves; but turned too late, for the judge had already +rapped for order and was clearing his throat. He could not account for +this extraordinary and unlooked-for audience, among whom he spied many +who had thought it wiser not to protest against the dictum of the first +citizen, and many who had professed to believe that the teacher's +connection with Jethro Bass was a good and sufficient reason for +dismissal. The judge was prepared to take advantage of the tide, +whatever its cause. + +"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "I take the liberty of calling this +meeting to order. And before a chairman be elected, I mean to ask your +indulgence to explain my purposes in requesting the use of this hall to- +night. In our system of government, the inalienable and most precious +gift--" + +Whatever the gift was, the judge never explained. He paused at the +words, and repeated them, and stopped altogether because no one was +paying any attention to him. The hall was almost full, the people had +risen, with a hum, and as one man had turned toward the door. Mr. +Gamaliel Ives was triumphantly marching down the aisle, and with him was +--well, another person. Nay, personage would perhaps be the better word. + +Let us go back for a moment. There descended from that train of which we +have heard the whistle a lady with features of no ordinary moulding, with +curls and a string bonnet and a cloak that seemed strangely to harmonize +with the lady's character. She had the way of one in authority, and Mr. +Sherman himself ran to open the door of his only closed carriage, and the +driver galloped off with her all the way to the Brampton House. Once +there, the lady seized the pen as a soldier seizes the sword, and wrote +her name in most uncompromising characters on the register, Miss Lucretia +Penniman, Boston. Then she marched up to her room. + +Miss Lucretia Penniman, author of the "Hymn to Coniston," in the +reflected glory of whose fame Brampton had shone for thirty years! Whose +name was lauded and whose poem was recited at every Fourth of July +celebration, that the very children might learn it and honor its +composer! Stratford-on-Avon is not prouder of Shakespeare than Brampton +of Miss Lucretia, and now she was come back, unheralded, to her +birthplace. Mr. Raines, the clerk, looked at the handwriting on the +book, and would not believe his own sight until it was vouched for by +sundry citizens who had followed the lady from the station--on foot. And +then there was a to-do. + +Send for Mr. Gamaliel Ives; send for Miss Bruce, the librarian; send for +Mr. Page, editor of the Clarion, and notify the first citizen. He, +indeed, could not be sent for, but had he known of her coming he would +undoubtedly have had her met at the portals and presented with the keys +in gold. Up and down the street flew the news which overshadowed and +blotted out all other, and the poor little school-teacher was forgotten. + +One of these notables was at hand, though he did not deserve to be. Mr. +Gamaliel Ives sent up his card to Miss Lucretia, and was shown +deferentially into the parlor, where he sat mopping his brow and growing +hot and cold by turns. How would the celebrity treat him? The celebrity +herself answered the question by entering the room in such stately manner +as he had expected, to the rustle of the bombazine. Whereupon Mr. Ives +bounced out of his chair and bowed, though his body was not formed to +bend that way. + +"Miss Penniman," he exclaimed, "what an honor for Brampton! And what a +pleasure, the greater because so unexpected! How cruel not to have given +us warning, and we could have greeted you as your great fame deserves! +You could never take time from your great duties to accept the +invitations of our literary committee, alas! But now that you are here, +you will find a warm welcome, Miss Penniman. How long it has been-- +thirty years,--you see I know it to a day, thirty years since you left +us. Thirty years, I may say, we have kept burning the vestal fire in +your worship, hoping for this hour." + +Miss Lucretia may have had her own ideas about the propriety of the +reference to the vestal fire. + +"Gamaliel," she said sharply, "straighten up and don't talk nonsense to +me. I've had you on my knee, and I knew your mother and father." + +Gamaliel did straighten up, as though Miss Lucretia had applied a lump of +ice to the small of his back. So it is when the literary deities, vestal +or otherwise, return to their Stratfords. There are generally surprises +in store for the people they have had on their knees, and for others. + +"Gamaliel," said Miss Lucretia, "I want to see the prudential committee +for the village district." + +"The prudential committee!" Mr. Ives fairly shrieked the words in his +astonishment. + +"I tried to speak plainly," said Miss Lucretia. "Who are on that +committee?" + +"Ezra Graves," said Mr. Ives, as though mechanically compelled, for his +head was spinning round. "Ezra Graves always has run it, until now. But +he's in the town hall." + +"What's he doing there?" + +Mr. Ives was no fool. Some inkling of the facts began to shoot through +his brain, and he saw his chance. + +"He called a mass meeting to protest against the dismissal of a teacher." + +"Gamaliel," said Miss Lucretia, "you will conduct me to that meeting. I +will get my cloak." + +Mr. Ives wasted no time in the interval, and he fairly ran out into the +office. Miss Lucretia Penniman was in town, and would attend the mass +meeting. Now, indeed, it was to be a mass meeting. Away flew the +tidings, broadcast, and people threw off their carpet slippers and +dressing gowns, and some who had gone to bed got up again. Mr. Dodd +heard it, and changed his shoes three times, and his intentions three +times three. Should he go, or should he not? Already he heard in +imagination the first distant note of the populace, and he was not of the +metal to defend a Bastille or a Louvre for his royal master with the last +drop of his blood. + +In the meantime Gamaliel Ives was conducting Miss Lucretia toward, the +town hall, and speaking in no measured tones of indignation of the +cringing, truckling qualities of that very Mr. Dodd. The injustice to +Miss Wetherell, which Mr. Ives explained as well as he could, made his +blood boil: so he declared. + +And note we are back again at the meeting, when the judge, with his hand +on his Adam's apple, is pronouncing the word "gift." Mr. Ives is +triumphantly marching down the aisle, escorting the celebrity of Brampton +to the platform, and quite aware of the heart burnings of his fellow- +citizens on the benches. And Miss Lucretia, with that stern composure +with which celebrities accept public situations, follows up the steps as +of right and takes the chair he assigns her beside the chairman. The +judge, still grasping his Adam's apple, stares at the newcomer in +amazement, and recognizes her in spite of the years, and trembles. Miss +Lucretia Penniman! Blucher was not more welcome to Wellington, or +Lafayette to Washington, than was Miss Lucretia to Ezra Graves as he +turned his back on the audience and bowed to her deferentially. Then he +turned again, cleared his throat once more to collect his senses, and was +about to utter the familiar words, "We have with us tonight," when they +were taken out of his mouth--taken out of his mouth by one who had in all +conscience stolen enough thunder for one man,--Mr. Gamaliel Ives. + +"Mr. Chairman," said Mr. Ives, taking a slight dropping of the judge's +lower jaw for recognition, "and ladies and gentlemen of Brampton. It is +our great good fortune to have with us to-night, most unexpectedly, one +of whom Brampton is, and for many years has been, justly proud." +(Cheers.) "One whose career Brampton has followed with a mother's eyes +and with a mother's heart. One who has chosen a broader field for the +exercise of those great powers with which Nature endowed her than +Brampton could give. One who has taken her place among the luminaries of +literature of her time." (Cheers.) "One who has done more than any +other woman of her generation toward the uplifting of the sex which she +honors." (Cheers and clapping of hands.) "And one who, though her lot +has fallen among the great, has not forgotten the home of her childhood. +For has she not written those beautiful lines which we all know by heart? + + 'Ah, Coniston! Thy lordly form I see + Before mine eyes in exile drear.' + +"Mr. Chairman and fellow-townsmen and women, I have the extreme honor of +introducing to you one whom we all love and revere, the author of the +'Hymn to Coniston,' the editor of the Woman's Hour, Miss Lucretia +Penniman.'" (Loud and long-continued applause.) + +Well might Brampton be proud, too, of Gamaliel Ives, president of its +literary club, who could make such a speech as this on such short notice. +If the truth be told, the literary club had sent Miss Lucretia no less +than seven invitations, and this was the speech Mr. Ives had intended to +make on those seven occasions. It was unquestionably a neat speech, and +Judge Graves or no other chairman should cheat him out of making it. Mr. +Ives, with a wave of his hand toward the celebrity, sat down by no means +dissatisfied with himself. What did he care how the judge glared. He +did not see how stiffly Miss Lucretia sat in her chair. She could not +take him on her knee then, but she would have liked to. + +Miss Lucretia rose, and stood quite as stiffly as she had sat, and the +judge rose, too. He was very angry, but this was not the time to get +even with Mr. Ives. As it turned out, he did not need to bother about +getting even. + +"Ladies and gentlemen," said he, "in the absence of any other chairman I +take pleasure in introducing to you Miss Lucretia Penniman." + +More applause was started, but Miss Lucretia put a stop to it by the +lifting of a hand. Then there was a breathless silence. Then she cast +her eyes around the hall, as though daring any one to break that silence, +and finally they rested upon Mr. Ives. + +"Mr. Chairman," she said, with an inclination toward the judge, "my +friends--for I hope you will be my friends when I have finished" (Miss +Lucretia made it quite clear by her tone that it entirely depended upon +them whether they would be or not), "I understood when I came here that +this was to be a mass meeting to protest against an injustice, and not a +feast of literature and oratory, as Gamaliel Ives seems to suppose." + +She paused, and when the first shock of amazement was past an audible +titter ran through the audience, and Mr. Ives squirmed visibly. + +"Am I right, Mr. Chairman?" asked Miss Lucretia. + +"You are unquestionably right, Miss Penniman," answered the chairman, +rising, "unquestionably." + +"Then I will proceed," said Miss Lucretia. "I wrote the Hymn to +Coniston' many years ago, when I was younger, and yet it is true that I +have always remembered Brampton with kindly feelings. The friends of our +youth are dear to us. We look indulgently upon their failings, even as +they do on ours. I have scanned the faces here in the hall to-night, and +there are some that have not changed beyond recognition in thirty years. +Ezra Graves I remember, and it is a pleasure to see him in that chair." +(Mr. Graves inclined his head, reverently. None knew how the inner man +exulted.) "But there was one who was often in Brampton in those days," +Miss Lucretia continued, "whom we all loved and with whom we found no +fault, and I confess that when I have thought of Brampton I have oftenest +thought of her. Her name," said Miss Lucretia, her hand now in the +reticule, "her name was Cynthia Ware." + +There was a decided stir among the audience, and many leaned forward to +catch every word. + +"Even old people may have an ideal," said Miss Lucretia, "and you will +forgive me for speaking of mine. Where should I speak of it, if not in +this village, among those who knew her and among their children? Cynthia +Ware, although she was younger than I, has been my ideal, and is still. +She was the daughter of the Rev. Samuel Ware of Coniston, and a +descendant of Captain Timothy Prescott, whom General Stark called 'Honest +Tim.' She was, to me, all that a woman should be, in intellect, in her +scorn of all that is ignoble and false, and in her loyalty to her +friends." Here the handkerchief came out of the reticule. "She went to +Boston to teach school, and some time afterward I was offered a position +in New York, and I never saw her again. But she married in Boston a man +of learning and literary attainments, though his health was feeble and he +was poor, William Wetherell." (Another stir.) "Mr. Wetherell was a +gentleman--Cynthia Ware could have married no other--and he came of good +and honorable people in Portsmouth. Very recently I read a collection of +letters which he wrote to the Newcastle Guardian, which some of you may +know. I did not trust my own judgment as to those letters, but I took +them to an author whose name is known wherever English is spoken, but +which I will not mention. And the author expressed it as his opinion, in +writing to me, that William Wetherell was undoubtedly a genius of a high +order, and that he would have been so recognized if life had given him a +chance. Mr. Wetherell, after his wife died, was taken in a dying +condition to Coniston, where he was forced, in order to earn his living, +to become the storekeeper there. But he took his books with him, and +found time to write the letters of which I have spoken, and to give his +daughter an early education such as few girls have. + +"My friends, I am rejoiced to see that the spirit of justice and the +sense of right are as strong in Brampton as they used to be--strong +enough to fill this town hall to overflowing because a teacher has been +wrongly--yes, and iniquitously--dismissed from the lower school." (Here +there was a considerable stir, and many wondered whether Miss Lucretia +was aware of the irony in her words.) "I say wrongly and iniquitously, +because I have had the opportunity in Boston this winter of learning to +know and love that teacher. I am not given to exaggeration, my friends, +and when I tell you that I know her, that her character is as high and +pure as her mother's, I can say no more. I am here to tell you this to- +night because I do not believe you know her as I do. During the seventy +years I have lived I have grown to have but little faith in outward +demonstration, to believe in deeds and attainments rather than +expressions. And as for her fitness to teach, I believe that even the +prudential committee could find no fault with that." (I wonder whether +Mr. Dodd was in the back of the hall.) "I can find no fault with it. I +am constantly called upon to recommend teachers, and I tell you I should +have no hesitation in sending Cynthia Wetherell to a high school, young +as she is." + +"And now, my friends, why was she dismissed? I have heard the facts, +though not from her. Cynthia Wetherell does not know that I have come to +Brampton, unless somebody has told her, and did not know that I was +coming. I have heard the facts, and I find it difficult to believe that +so great a wrong could be attempted against a woman, and if the name of +Cynthia Wetherell had meant no more to me than the letters in it I should +have travelled twice as far as Brampton, old as I am, to do my utmost to +right that wrong. I give you my word of honor that I have never been so +indignant in my life. I do not come here to stir up enmities among you, +and I will mention no more names. I prefer to believe that the +prudential committee of this district has made a mistake, the gravity of +which they must now realize, and that they will reinstate Cynthia +Wetherell to-morrow. And if they should not of their own free will, I +have only to look around this meeting to be convinced that they will be +compelled to. Compelled to, my friends, by the sense of justice and the +righteous indignation of the citizens of Brampton." + +Miss Lucretia sat down, her strong face alight with the spirit that was +in her. Not the least of the compelling forces in this world is +righteous anger, and when it is exercised by a man or a woman whose life +has been a continual warfare against the pests of wrong, it is well-nigh +irresistible. While you could count five seconds the audience sat +silent, and then began such tumult and applause as had never been seen in +Brampton--all started, so it is said, by an old soldier in the front row +with his stick. Isaac D. Worthington, sitting alone in the library of +his mansion, heard it, and had no need to send for Mr. Flint to ask what +it was, or who it was had fired the Third Estate. And Mr. Dodd heard it. +He may have been in the hall, but now he sat at home, seeing visions of +the lantern, and he would have fled to the palace had he thought to get +any sympathy from his sovereign. No, Mr. Dodd did not hold the Bastille +or even fight for it. Another and a better man gave up the keys, for +heroes are sometimes hidden away in meek and retiring people who wear +spectacles and have a stoop to their shoulders. Long before the +excitement died away a dozen men were on their feet shouting at the +chairman, and among them was the tall, stooping man with spectacles. He +did not shout, but Judge Graves saw him and made up his mind that this +was the man to speak. The chairman raised his hand and rapped with his +gavel, and at length he had obtained silence. + +"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "I am going to recognize Mr. Hill of the +prudential committee, and ask him to step up on the platform." + +There fell another silence, as absolute as the first, when Mr. Hill +walked down the aisle and climbed the steps. Indeed, people were +stupefied, for the feed dealer was a man who had never opened his mouth +in town-meeting; who had never taken an initiative of any kind; who had +allowed other men to take advantage of him, and had never resented it. +And now he was going to speak. Would he defend the prudential committee, +or would he declare for the teacher? Either course, in Mr. Hill's case, +required courage, and he had never been credited with any. If Mr. Hill +was going to speak at all, he was going to straddle. + +He reached the platform, bowed irresolutely to the chairman, and then +stood awkwardly with one knee bent, peering at his audience over his +glasses. He began without any address whatever. + +"I want to say," he began in a low voice, "that I had no intention of +coming to this meeting. And I am going to confess--I am going to confess +that I was afraid to come." He raised his voice a little defiantly a the +words, and paused. One could almost hear the people breathing. "I was +afraid to come for fear that I should do the very thing I am going to do +now. And yet I was impelled to come. I want to say that my conscience +has not been clear since, as a member of the prudential committee, I gave +my consent to the dismissal of Miss Wetherell. I know that I was +influenced by personal and selfish considerations which should have had +no weight. And after listening to Miss Penniman I take this opportunity +to declare, of my own free will, that I will add my vote to that of Judge +Graves to reinstate Miss Wetherell." + +Mr. Hill bowed slightly, and was about to descend the steps when the +chairman, throwing parliamentary dignity to the winds, arose and seized +the feed dealer's hand. And the people in the hall almost as one man +sprang to their feet and cheered, and some--Ephraim Prescott among these- +-even waved their hats and shouted Mr. Hill's name. A New England +audience does not frequently forget itself, but there were few present +who did not understand the heroism of the man's confession, who were not +carried away by the simple and dramatic dignity of it. He had no need to +mention Mr. Worthington's name, or specify the nature of his obligations +to that gentleman. In that hour Jonathan Hill rose high in the respect +of Brampton, and some pressed into the aisle to congratulate him on his +way back to his seat. Not a few were grateful to him for another reason. +He had relieved the meeting of the necessity of taking any further +action: of putting their names, for instance, in their enthusiasm to a +paper which the first citizen might see. + +Judge Graves, whose sense of a climax was acute, rapped for order. + +"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, in a voice not wholly free from emotion, +"you will all wish to pay your respects to the famous lady, who is with +us. I see that the Rev. Mr. Sweet is present, and I suggest that we +adjourn, after he has favored us with a prayer." + +As the minister came forward, Deacon Hartington dropped his head and +began to flutter his eyelids. The Rev. Mr. Sweet prayed, and so was +brought to an end the most exciting meeting ever held in Brampton town +hall. + +But Miss Lucretia did not like being called "a famous lady." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +While Miss Lucretia was standing, unwillingly enough, listening to the +speeches that were poured into her ear by various members of the +audience, receiving the incense and myrrh to which so great a celebrity +was entitled, the old soldier hobbled away to his little house as fast as +his three legs would carry him. Only one event in his life had eclipsed +this in happiness--the interview in front of the White House. He rapped +on the window with his stick, thereby frightening Cynthia half out of her +wits as she sat musing sorrowfully by the fire. + +"Cousin Ephraim," she said, taking off his corded hat, "what in the +world's the matter with you?" + +"You're a schoolmarm again, Cynthy." + +"Do you mean to say?" + +"Miss Lucretia Penniman done it." + +"Miss Lucretia Penniman!" Cynthia began to think his rheumatism was +driving him out of his mind. + +"You bet. 'Long toward the openin' of the engagement there wahn't +scarcely anybody thar but me, and they was a-goin'. But they come fast +enough when they l'arned she was in town, and she blew 'em up higher'n +the Petersburg crater. Great Tecumseh, there's a woman! Next to General +Grant, I'd sooner shake her hand than anybody's livin'." + +"Do you mean to say that Miss Lucretia is in Brampton and spoke at the +mass meeting?" + +"Spoke!" exclaimed Ephraim, "callate she did--some. Tore 'em all up. +They'd a hung Isaac D. Worthington or Levi Dodd if they'd a had 'em +thar." + +Cynthia, striving to be calm herself, got him into a chair and took his +stick and straightened out his leg, and then Ephraim told her the story, +and it lost no dramatic effect in his telling. He would have talked all +night. But at length the sound of wheels was heard in the street, +Cynthia flew to the door, and a familiar voice came out of the darkness. + +"You need not wait, Gamaliel. No, thank you, I think I will stay at the +hotel." + +Gamaliel was still protesting when Miss Lucretia came in and seized +Cynthia in her arms, and the door was closed behind her. + +"Oh, Miss Lucretia, why did you come?" said Cynthia, "if I had known you +would do such a thing, I should never have written that letter. I have +been sorry to-day that I did write it, and now I'm sorrier than ever." + +"Aren't you glad to see me?" demanded Miss Lucretia. + +"Miss Lucretia!" + +"What are friends for?" asked Miss Lucretia, patting her hand. "If you +had known how I wished to see you, Cynthia, and I thought a little trip +would be good for such a provincial Bostonian as I am. Dear, dear, I +remember this house. It used to belong to Gabriel Post in my time, and +right across from it was the Social Library, where I have spent so many +pleasant hours with your mother. And this is Ephraim Prescott. I +thought it was, when I saw him sitting in the front row, and I think he +must have been very lonesome there at one time." + +"Yes, ma'am," said Ephraim, giving her his gnarled fingers; "I was just +sayin' to Cynthy that I'd ruther shake your hand than anybody's livin' +exceptin' General Grant." + +"And I'd rather shake yours than the General's," said Miss Lucretia, for +the Woman's Hour had taken the opposition side in a certain recent public +question concerning women. + +"If you'd a fit with him, you wouldn't say that, Miss Lucrety." + +"I haven't a word to say against his fighting qualities," she replied. + +"Guess the General might say the same of you," said Ephraim. "If you'd a +b'en a man, I callate you'd a come out of the war with two stars on your +shoulder. Godfrey, Miss Lucrety, you'd ought to've b'en a man." + +"A man!" cried Miss Lucretia, "and 'stars on my shoulder'! I think this +kind of talk has gone far enough, Ephraim Prescott." + +"Cousin Eph," said Cynthia, laughing, "you're no match for Miss Lucretia, +and it's long past your bedtime." + +"A man!" repeated Miss Lucretia, after he had retired, and after Cynthia +had tried to express her gratitude and had been silenced. They sat side +by side in front of the chimney. "I suppose he meant that as a +compliment. I never yet saw the man I couldn't back down, and I haven't +any patience with a woman who gives in to them." Miss Lucretia poked +vigorously a log which had fallen down, as though that were a man, too, +and she was putting him back in his proper place. + +Cynthia, strange to say, did not reply to this remark. + +"Cynthia," said Miss Lucretia, abruptly, "you don't mean to say that you +are in love!" + +Cynthia drew a long breath, and grew as red as the embers. + +"Miss Lucretia!" she exclaimed, in astonishment and dismay. + +"Well," Miss Lucretia said, "I should have thought you could have gotten +along, for a while at least, without anything of that kind. My dear," +she said leaning toward Cynthia, "who is he?" + +Cynthia turned away. She found it very hard to speak of her troubles, +even to Miss Lucretia, and she would have kept this secret even from +Jethro, had it been possible. + +"You must let him know his place," said Miss Lucretia, "and I hope he is +in some degree worthy of you." + +"I do not intend to marry him," said Cynthia, with head still turned +away. + +It was now Miss Lucretia who was silent. + +"I came near getting married once," she said presently, with +characteristic abruptness. + +"You!" cried Cynthia, looking around in amazement. + +"You see, I am franker than you, my dear--though I never told any one +else. I believe you can keep a secret." + +"Of course I can. Who--was it anyone in Brampton, Miss Lucretia?" The +question was out before Cynthia realized its import. She was turning the +tables with a vengeance. + +"It was Ezra Graves," said Miss Lucretia. + +"Ezra Graves!" And then Cynthia pressed Miss Lucretia's hand in silence, +thinking how strange it was that both of them should have been her +champions that evening. + +Miss Lucretia poked the fire again. + +"It was shortly after that, when I went to Boston, that I wrote the 'Hymn +to Coniston.' I suppose we must all be fools once or twice, or we should +not be human." + +"And--weren't you ever--sorry?" asked Cynthia. + +Again there was a silence. + +"I could not have done the work I have had to do in the world if I had +married. But I have often wondered whether that work was worth the +while. Such a feeling must come over all workers, occasionally. Yes," +said Miss Lucretia, "there have been times when I have been sorry, my +dear, though I have never confessed it to another soul. I am telling you +this for your own good--not mine. If you have the love of a good man, +Cynthia, be careful what you do with it." + +The tears had come into Cynthia's eyes. + +"I should have told you, Miss Lucretia," she faltered. "If I could have +married him, it would have been easier." + +"Why can't you marry him?" demanded Miss Lucretia, sharply--to hide her +own emotion. + +"His name," said Cynthia, "is Bob Worthington:" + +"Isaac Worthington's son?" + +"Yes." + +Another silence, Miss Lucretia being utterly unable to say anything for a +space. + +"Is he a good man?" + +Cynthia was on the point of indignant-protest, but she stopped herself in +time. + +"I will tell you what he has done," she answered, "and then you shall +judge for yourself." + +And she told Miss Lucretia, simply, all that Bob had done, and all that +she herself had done. + +"He is like his mother, Sarah Hollingsworth; I knew her well," said Miss +Lucretia. "If Isaac Worthington were a man, he would be down on his +knees begging you to marry his son. He tried hard enough to marry your +own mother." + +"My mother!" exclaimed Cynthia, who had never believed that rumor. + +"Yes," said Miss Lucretia, "and you may thank your stars he didn't +succeed. I mistrusted him when he was a young man, and now I know that +he hasn't changed. He is a coward and a hypocrite." + +Cynthia could not deny this. + +"And yet," she said, after a moment's silence, "I am sure you will say +that I have been right. My own conscience tells me that it is wrong to +deprive Bob of his inheritance, and to separate him from his father, +whatever his father--may be." + +"We shall see what happens in five years," said Miss Lucretia. + +"Five years!" said Cynthia, in spite of herself. + +"Jacob served seven for Rachel," answered Miss Lucretia; "that period is +scarcely too short to test a man, and you are both young." + +"No," said Cynthia, "I cannot marry him, Miss Lucretia. The world would +accuse me of design, and I feel that I should not be happy. I am sure +that he would never reproach me, even if things went wrong, but--the day +might come when--when he would wish that it had been otherwise." + +Miss Lucretia kissed her. + +"You are very young, my dear," she repeated, "and none of us may say what +changes time may bring forth. And now I must go." + +Cynthia insisted upon walking with her friend down the street to the +hotel--an undertaking that was without danger in Brampton. And it was +only a step, after all. A late moon floated in the sky, throwing in +relief the shadow of the Worthington mansion against the white patches of +snow. A light was still burning in the library. + +The next morning after breakfast Miss Lucretia appeared at the little +house, and informed Cynthia that she would walk to school with her. + +"But I have not yet been notified by the Committee," said Cynthia. There +was a knock at the door, and in walked Judge Ezra Graves. Miss Lucretia +may have blushed, but it is certain that Cynthia did. Never had she seen +the judge so spick and span, and he wore the broadcloth coat he usually +reserved for Sundays. He paused at the threshold, with his hand on his +Adam's apple. + +"Good morning, ladies," he said, and looked shyly at Miss Lucretia and +cleared his throat, and spoke with the elaborate decorum he used on +occasions, "Miss Penniman, I wish to thank you again for your noble +action of last evening." + +"Don't 'Miss Penniman' me, Ezra Graves," retorted Miss Lucretia; "the +only noble action I know of was poor Jonathan Hill's--unless it was +paying for the gas." + +This was the way in which Miss Lucretia treated her lover after thirty +years! Cynthia thought of what the lady had said to her a few hours +since, by this very fire, and began to believe she must have dreamed it. +Fires look very differently at night--and sometimes burn brighter then. +The judge parted his coat tails, and seated himself on the wooden edge of +a cane-bottomed chair. + +"Lucretia," he said, "you haven't changed." + +"You have, Ezra," she replied, looking at the Adam's apple. + +"I'm an old man," said Ezra Graves. + +Cynthia could not help thinking that he was a very different man, in Miss +Lucretia's presence, than when at the head of the prudential committee. + +"Ezra," said Miss Lucretia, "for a man you do very well." + +The judge smiled. + +"Thank you, Lucretia," said he. He seemed to appreciate the full extent +of the compliment. + +"Judge Graves," said Cynthia, "I can tell you how good you are, at least, +and thank you for your great kindness to me, which I shall never forget." + +She took his withered hands from his knees and pressed them. He returned +the pressure, and then searched his coat tails, found a handkerchief, and +blew his nose violently. + +"I merely did my duty, Miss Wetherell," he said. "I would not wilfully +submit to a wrong." + +"You called me Cynthia yesterday." + +"So I did," he answered, "so I did." Then he looked at Miss Lucretia. + +"Ezra," said that lady, smiling a little, "I don't believe you have +changed, after all." + +What she meant by that nobody knows. + +"I had thought, Cynthia," said the judge, "that it might be more +comfortable for you to have me go to the school with you. That is the +reason for my early call." + +"Judge Graves, I do appreciate your kindness," said Cynthia; "I hope you +won't think I'm rude if I say I'd rather go alone." + +"On the contrary, my dear," replied the judge, "I think I can understand +and esteem your feeling in the matter, and it shall be as you wish." + +"Then I think I had better be going," said Cynthia. The judge rose in +alarm at the words, but she put her hand on his shoulder. "Won't you sit +down and stay," she begged, "you haven't seen Miss Lucretia for how many +years,--thirty, isn't it?" + +Again he glanced at Miss Lucretia, uncertainly. "Sit down, Ezra," she +commanded, "and for goodness' sake don't be afraid of the cane bottom. +You won't go through it. I should like to talk to you, and most of the +gossips of our day are dead. I shall stay in Brampton to-day, Cynthia, +and eat supper with you here this evening." + +Cynthia, as she went out of the door, wondered what they would talk +about. Then she turned toward the school. It was not the March wind +that burned her cheeks; as she thought of the mass meeting the night +before, which was all about her, she wished she might go to school that +morning through the woods and pasture lots rather than down Brampton +Street. What--what would Bob say when he heard of the meeting? Would he +come again to Brampton? If he did, she would run away to Boston with +Miss Lucretia. Every day it had been a trial to pass the Worthington +house, but she could not cross the wide street to avoid it. She hurried +a little, unconsciously, when she came to it, for there was Mr. +Worthington on the steps talking to Mr. Flint. How he must hate her now, +Cynthia reflected! He did not so much as look up when she passed. + +The other citizens whom she met made up for Mr. Worthington's coldness, +and gave her a hearty greeting, and some stopped to offer their +congratulations. Cynthia did not pause to philosophize: she was learning +to accept the world as it was, and hurried swiftly on to the little +schoolhouse. The children saw her coming, and ran to meet her and +escorted her triumphantly in at the door. Of their welcome she could be +sure. Thus she became again teacher of the lower school. + +How the judge and Miss Lucretia got along that morning, Cynthia never +knew. Miss Lucretia spent the day in her old home, submitting to hero- +worship, and attended an evening party in her honor at Mr. Gamaliel +Ives's house--a mansion not so large as the first citizen's, though it +had two bay-windows and was not altogether unimposing. The first +citizen, needless to say, was not there, but the rest of the elite +attended. Mr. Ives will tell you all about the entertainment if you go +to Brampton, but the real reason Miss Lucretia consented to go was to +please Lucy Baird, who was Gamaliel's wife, and to chat with certain old +friends whom she had not seen. The next morning she called at the school +to bid Cynthia good-by, and to whisper something in her ear which made +her very red before all the scholars. She shook her head when Miss +Lucretia said it, for it had to do with an incident in the 29th chapter +of Genesis. + +While Jonathan Hill was being made a hero of in the little two-by-four +office of the feed store the morning after the mass meeting (though +nobody offered to take over his mortgage), Mr. Dodd was complaining to +his wife of shooting pains, and "callated" he would stay at home that +day. + +"Shootin' fiddlesticks!" said Mrs. Dodd. "Get along down to the store +and face the music, Levi Dodd. You'd have had shootin' pains if you'd a +went to the meetin'." + +"I might stop by at Mr. Worthington's house and explain how powerless I +was--" + +"For goodness' sake git out, Levi. I guess he knows how powerless you +are with your shootin' pains. If you only could forget Isaac D. +Worthington for three minutes, you wouldn't have 'em." + +Mr. Dodd's two clerks saw him enter the store by the back door and he was +very much interested in the new ploughs which were piled up in crates +outside of it. Then he disappeared into his office and shut the door, +and supposedly became very much absorbed in book-keeping. If any one +called, he was out--any one. Plenty of people did call, but he was not +disturbed--until ten o'clock. Mr. Dodd had a very sensitive ear, and he +could often recognize a man by his step, and this man he recognized. + +"Where's Mr. Dodd?" demanded the owner of the step, indignantly. + +"He's out, Mr. Worthington. Anything I can do for you, Mr. Worthington?" + +"You can tell him to come up to my house the moment he comes in." + +Unfortunately Mr. Dodd in the office had got into a strained position. +He found it necessary to move a little; the day-book fell heavily to the +floor, and the perspiration popped out all over his forehead. Come out, +Levi Dodd. The Bastille is taken, but there are other fortresses still +in the royal hands where you may be confined. + +"Who's in the office?" + +"I don't know, sir," answered the clerk, winking at his companion, who +was sorting nails. + +In three strides the great man had his hand on the office door and had +flung it open, disclosing the culprit cowering over the day-book on the +floor. + +"Mr. Dodd," cried the first citizen, "what do you mean by--?" + +Some natures, when terrified, are struck dumb. Mr. Dodd's was the kind +which bursts into speech. + +"I couldn't help it, Mr. Worthington," he cried, "they would have it. +I don't know what got into 'em. They lost their senses, Mr. Worthington, +plumb lost their senses. If you'd a b'en there, you might have brought +'em to. I tried to git the floor, but Ezry Graves--" + +"Confound Ezra Graves, and wait till I have done, can't you," interrupted +the first citizen, angrily. "What do you mean by putting a bath-tub into +my house with the tin loose, so that I cut my leg on it?" + +Mr. Dodd nearly fainted from sheer relief. + +"I'll put a new one in to-day, right now," he gasped. + +"See that you do," said the first citizen, "and if I lose my leg, I'll +sue you for a hundred thousand dollars." + +"I was a-goin' to explain about them losin' their heads at the mass +meetin'--" + +"Damn their heads!" said the first citizen. "And yours, too," he may +have added under his breath as he stalked out. It was not worth a swing +of the executioner's axe in these times of war. News had arrived from +the state capital that morning of which Mr. Dodd knew nothing. Certain +feudal chiefs from the North Country, of whose allegiance Mr. Worthington +had felt sure, had obeyed the summons of their old sovereign, Jethro +Bass, and had come South to hold a conclave under him at the Pelican. +Those chiefs of the North Country, with their clans behind them as one +man, what a power they were in the state! What magnificent qualities +they had, in battle or strategy, and how cunning and shrewd was their +generalship! Year after year they came down from their mountains and +fought shoulder to shoulder, and year after year they carried back the +lion's share of the spoils between them. The great South, as a whole, +was powerless to resist them, for there could be no lasting alliance +between Harwich and Brampton and Newcastle and Gosport. Now their king +had come back, and the North Country men were rallying again to his +standard. No wonder that Levi Dodd's head, poor thing that it was, was +safe for a while. + +"Organize what you have left, and be quick about it," said Mr. Flint, +when the news had come, and they sat in the library planning a new +campaign in the face of this evident defection. There was no time to cry +over spilt milk or reinstated school-teachers. The messages flew far and +wide to the manufacturing towns to range their guilds into line for the +railroads. The seneschal wrote the messages, and sent the summons to the +sleek men of the cities, and let it be known that the coffers were full +and not too tightly sealed, that the faithful should not lack for the +sinews of war. Mr. Flint found time, too, to write some carefully worded +but nevertheless convincing articles for the Newcastle Guardian, very +damaging to certain commanders who had proved unfaithful. + +"Flint," said Mr. Worthington, when they had worked far into the night, +"if Bass beats us, I'm a crippled man." + +"And if you postpone the fight now that you have begun it? What then?" + +The answer, Mr. Worthington knew, was the same either way. He did not +repeat it. He went to his bed, but not to sleep for many hours, and when +he came down to his breakfast in the morning, he was in no mood to read +the letter from Cambridge which Mrs. Holden had put on his plate. But he +did read it, with what anger and bitterness may be imagined. There was +the ultimatum,--respectful, even affectionate, but firm. "I know that +you will, in all probability, disinherit me as you say, and I tell you +honestly that I regret the necessity of quarrelling with you more than I +do the money. I do not pretend to say that I despise money, and I like +the things that it buys, but the woman I love is more to me than all that +you have." + +Mr. Worthington laid the letter down, and there came irresistibly to his +mind something that his wife had said to him before she died, shortly +after they had moved into the mansion. "Dudley, how happy we used to be +together before we were rich!" Money had not been everything to Sarah +Worthington, either. But now no tender wave of feeling swept over him as +he recalled those words. He was thinking of what weapon he had to +prevent the marriage beyond that which was now useless--disinheritance. +He would disinherit Bob, and that very day. He would punish his son to +the utmost of his power for marrying the ward of Jethro Bass. He +wondered bitterly, in case a certain event occurred, whether he would +have much to alienate. + +When Mr. Flint arrived, fresh as usual in spite of the work he had +accomplished and the cigars he had smoked the night before, Mr. +Worthington still had the letter in his hand, and was pacing his library +floor, and broke into a tirade against his son. + +"After all I have done for him, building up for him a position and a +fortune that is only surpassed by young Duncan's, to treat me in this +way, to drag down the name of Worthington in the mire. I'll never +forgive him. I'll send for Dixon and leave the money for a hospital in +Brampton. Can't you suggest any way out of this, Flint?" + +"No," said Flint, "not now. The only chance you have is to ignore the +thing from now on. He may get tired of her--I've known such things to +happen." + +"When she hears that I've disinherited him, she will get tired of him," +declared Mr. Worthington. + +"Try it and see, if you like," said Flint. + +"Look here, Flint, if the woman has a spark of decent feeling, as you +seem to think, I'll send for her and tell her that she will ruin Robert +if she marries him." Mr. Worthington always spoke of his son as +"Robert." + +"You ought to have thought of that before the mass meeting. Perhaps it +would have done some good then." + +"Because this Penniman woman has stirred people up--is that what you +mean? I don't care anything about that. Money counts in the long run." + +"If money counted with this school-teacher, it would be a simple matter. +I think you'll find it doesn't." + +"I've known you to make some serious mistakes," snapped Mr. Worthington. + +"Then why do you ask for my advice?" + +"I'll send for her, and appeal to her better nature," said Mr. +Worthington, with an unconscious and sublime irony. + +Flint gave no sign that he heard. Mr. Worthington seated himself at his +desk, and after some thought wrote on a piece of note-paper the following +lines: "My dear Miss Wetherell, I should be greatly obliged if you would +find it convenient to call at my house at eight o'clock this evening," +and signed them," Sincerely Yours." He sealed them up in an envelope and +addressed it to Miss Wetherell, at the schoolhouse; and handed it to Mr. +Flint. That gentleman got as far as the door, and then he hesitated and +turned. + +"There is just one way out of this for you, that I can see, Mr. +Worthington," he said. "It's a desperate measure, but it's worth +thinking about." + +"What's that?" + +It took some courage for Mr. Flint, to make the suggestion. "The girl's +a good girl, well educated, and by no means bad looking. Bob might do a +thousand times worse. Give your consent to the marriage, and Jethro Bass +will go back to Coniston." + +It was wisdom such as few lords get from their seneschals, but Isaac D. +Worthington did not so recognize it. His anger rose and took away his +breath as he listened to it. + +"I will never give my consent to it, never--do you hear?--never. Send +that note!" he cried. + +Mr. Flint walked out, sent the note, and returned and took his place +silently at his own table. He was a man of concentration, and he put his +mind on the arguments he was composing to certain political leaders. Mr. +Worthington merely pretended to work as he waited for the answer to come +back. And presently, when it did come back, he tore it open and read it +with an expression not often on his lips. He flung the paper at Mr. +Flint. + +"Read that," he said. + +This is what Mr. Flint read: "Miss Wetherell begs to inform Mr. Isaac D. +Worthington that she can have no communication or intercourse with him +whatsoever." + +Mr. Flint handed it back without a word. His opinion of the school- +teacher had risen mightily, but he did not say so. Mr. Worthington took +the note, too, without a word. Speech was beyond him, and he crushed the +paper as fiercely as he would have liked to have crushed Cynthia, had she +been in his hands. + +One accomplishment which Cynthia had learned at Miss Sadler's school was +to write a letter in the third person, Miss Sadler holding that there +were occasions when it was beneath a lady's dignity to write a direct +note. And Cynthia, sitting at her little desk in the schoolhouse during +her recess, had deemed this one of the occasions. She could not bring +herself to write, "My dear Mr. Worthington." Her anger, when the note +had been handed to her, was for the moment so great that she could not go +on with her classes; but she had controlled it, and compelled Silas to +stand in the entry until recess, when she sat with her pen in her hand +until that happy notion of the third person occurred to her. And after +Silas had gone she sat still; though trembling a little at intervals, +picturing with some satisfaction Mr. Worthington's appearance when he +received her answer. Her instinct told her that he had received his +son's letter, and that he had sent for her to insult her. By sending for +her, indeed, he had insulted her irrevocably, and that is why she +trembled. + +Poor Cynthia! her troubles came thick and fast upon her in those days. +When she reached home, there was the letter which Ephraim had left on the +table addressed in the familiar, upright handwriting, and when Cynthia +saw it, she caught her hand sharply at her breast, as if the pain there +had stopped the beating of her heart. Well it was for Bob's peace of +mind that he could not see her as she read it, and before she had come to +the end there were drops on the sheets where the purple ink had run. How +precious would have been those drops to him! He would never give her up. +No mandate or decree could separate them--nothing but death. And he was +happier now so he told her--than he had been for months: happy in the +thought that he was going out into the world to win bread for her, as +became a man. Even if he had not her to strive for, he saw now that such +was the only course for him. He could not conform. + +It was a manly letter,--how manly Bob himself never knew. But Cynthia +knew, and she wept over it and even pressed it to her. lips--for there +was no one to see. Yes, she loved him as she would not have believed it +possible to love, and she sat through the afternoon reading his words and +repeating them until it seemed that he were there by her side, speaking +them. They came, untrammelled and undefiled, from his heart into hers. + +And now that he had quarrelled with his father for her sake, and was bent +with all the determination of his character upon making his own way in +the world, what was she to do? What was her duty? Not one letter of the +twoscore she had received (so she kept their count from day to day)--not +one had she answered. His faith had indeed been great. But she must +answer this: must write, too, on that subject of her dismissal, lest it +should be wrongly told him. He was rash in his anger, and fearless; this +she knew, and loved him for such qualities as he had. + +She must stay in Brampton and do her work,--so much was clearly her duty, +although she longed to flee from it. And at last she sat down and wrote +to him. Some things are too sacred to be set forth on a printed page, +and this letter is one of those things. Try as she would, she could not +find it in her heart at such a time to destroy his hope,--or her own. +The hope which she would not acknowledge, and the love which she strove +to conceal from him seeped up between the words of her letter like water +through grains of sand. Words, indeed, are but as grains of sand to +conceal strong feelings, and as Cynthia read the letter over she felt +that every line betrayed her, and knew that she could compose no lines +which would not. + +She said nothing of the summons which she had received that morning, or +of her answer; and her account of the matter of the dismissal and +reinstatement was brief and dignified, and contained no mention of Mr. +Worthington's name or agency. It was her duty, too, to rebuke Bob for +the quarrel with his father, to point out the folly of it, and the wrong, +and to urge him as strongly as she could to retract, though she felt that +all this was useless. And then--then came the betrayal of hope. She +could not ask him never to see her again, but she did beseech him for her +sake, and for the sake of that love which he had declared, not to attempt +to see her: not for a year, she wrote, though the word looked to her like +eternity. Her reasons, aside from her own scruples, were so obvious, +while she taught in Brampton, that she felt that he would consent to +banishment--until the summer holidays in July, at least: and then she +would be in Coniston,--and would have had time to decide upon future +steps. A reprieve was all she craved,--a reprieve in which to reflect, +for she was in no condition to reflect now. Of one thing she was sure, +that it would not be right at this time to encourage him although she had +a guilty feeling that the letter had given him encouragement in spite of +all the prohibitions it contained. "If, in the future years," thought +Cynthia, as she sealed the envelope, "he persists in his determination, +what then?" You, Miss Lucretia, of all people in the world, have planted +the seeds with your talk about Genesis! + +The letter was signed "One who will always remain your friend, Cynthia +Wetherell." And she posted it herself. + +When Ephraim came home to supper that evening, he brought the Brampton +Clarion, just out, and in it was an account of Miss Lucretia Penniman's +speech at the mass meeting, and of her visit, and of her career. It was +written in Mr. Page's best vein, and so laudatory was it that we shall +have to spare Miss Lucretia in not repeating it here: yes, and omit the +encomiums, too, on the teacher of the Brampton lower school. Mr. +Worthington was not mentioned, and for this, at least, Cynthia drew along +breath of relief, though Ephraim was of the opinion that the first +citizen should have been scored as he deserved, and held up to the +contempt of his fellow-townsmen. The dismissal of the teacher, indeed, +was put down to a regrettable misconception on the part of "one of the +prudential committee," who had confessed his mistake in "a manly and +altogether praiseworthy speech." The article was as near the truth, +perhaps, as the Clarions may come on such matters--which is not very +near. Cynthia would have been better pleased if Mr. Page had spared his +readers the recital of her qualities, and she did not in the least +recognize the paragon whom Miss Lucretia had befriended and defended. +She was thankful that Mr. Page did pot state that the celebrity had come +up from Boston on her account. Miss Penniman had been "actuated by a +sudden desire to see once more the beauties of her old home, to look into +the faces of the old friends who had followed her career with such +pardonable pride." The speech of the president of the literary club, you +may be sure, was printed in full, for Mr. Ives himself had taken the +trouble to write it out for the editor--by request, of course. + +Cynthia turned over the sheet, and read many interesting items: one +concerning the beauty and fashion and intellect which attended the party +at Mr. Gamaliel Ives's; in the Clovelly notes she saw that Miss Judy +Hatch, of Coniston, was visiting relatives there; she learned the output +of the Worthington Mills for the past week. Cynthia was about to fold up +the paper and send it to Miss Lucretia, whom she thought it would amuse, +when her eyes were arrested by the sight of a familiar name. + + "Jethro Bass come to life again. + From the State Tribune." + +That was the heading. "One of the greatest political surprises in many +years was the arrival in the capital on Wednesday of Judge Bass, whom it +was thought, had permanently retired from politics. This, at least, +seems to have been the confident belief of a faction in the state who +have at heart the consolidation of certain lines of railroads. Judge +Bass was found by a Tribune reporter in the familiar Throne Room at the +Pelican, but, as usual, he could not be induced to talk for publication. +He was in conference throughout the afternoon with several well-known +leaders from the North Country. The return of Jethro Bass to activity +seriously complicates the railroad situation, and many prominent +politicians are freely predicting to-night that, in spite of the town- +meeting returns, the proposed bill for consolidation will not go through. +Judge Bass is a man of such remarkable personality that he has regained +at a stroke much of the influence that he lost by the sudden and +unaccountable retirement which electrified the state some months since. +His reappearance, the news of which was the one topic in all political +centres yesterday, is equally unaccountable. It is hinted that some +action on the part of Isaac D. Worthington has brought Jethro Bass to +life. They are known to be bitter enemies, and it is said that Jethro +Bass has but one object in returning to the field--to crush the president +of the Truro Railroad. Another theory is that the railroads and +interests opposed to the consolidation have induced Judge Bass to take +charge of their fight for them. All indications point to the fiercest +struggle the state has ever seen in June, when the Legislature meets. +The Tribune, whose sentiments are well known to be opposed to the +iniquity of consolidation, extends a hearty welcome to the judge. No +state, we believe, can claim a party leader of a higher order of ability +than Jethro Bass." + +Cynthia dropped the paper in her lap, and sat very still. This, then, +was what happened when Jethro had heard of her dismissal--he had left +Coniston without writing her a word and passed through Brampton without +seeing her. He had gone back to that life which he had abandoned for her +sake; the temptation had been too strong, the desire for vengeance too +great. He had not dared to see her. And yet the love for her which had +been strong enough to make him renounce the homage of men, and even incur +their ridicule, had incited him to this very act of vengeance. + +What should she do now, indeed? Had those peaceful and happy Saturdays +and Sundays in Coniston passed away forever? Should she follow him to +the capital and appeal to him? Ah no, she felt that were a useless pain +to them both. She believed, now, that he had gone away from her for all +time, that the veil of limitless space was set between, them. Silently +she arose,--so silently that Ephraim, dozing by the fire, did not awake. +She went into her own room and wept, and after many hours fell into a +dreamless sleep of sheer exhaustion. + +The days passed, and the weeks; the snow ran from the brown fields, and +melted at length even in the moist crotches under the hemlocks of the +northern slopes; the robin and bluebird came, the hillsides were mottled +with exquisite shades of green, and the scent of fruit blossom and balm +of Gilead was in the air. June came as a maiden and grew into womanhood. +But Jethro Bass did not return to Coniston. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +The legends which surround the famous war which we are about to touch +upon are as dim as those of Troy or Tuscany. Decorous chronicles and +biographies and monographs and eulogies exist, bound in leather and +stamped in gold, each lauding its own hero: chronicles written in really +beautiful language, and high-minded and noble, out of which the heroes +come unstained. Horatius holds the bridge, and not a dent in his armor; +and swims the Tiber without getting wet or muddy. Castor and Pollux +fight in the front rank at Lake Regillus, in the midst of all that gore +and slaughter, and emerge all white and pure at the end of the day--but +they are gods. + +Out of the classic wars to which we have referred sprang the great Roman +Republic and Empire, and legend runs into authentic and written history. +Just so, parva componere magnis, out of the cloud-wrapped conflicts of +the five railroads of which our own Gaul is composed, emerged one +imperial railroad, authentically and legally written down on the statute +books, for all men to see. We cannot go behind that statute except to +collect the legends and write homilies about the heroes who held the +bridges. + +If we were not in mortal terror of the imperial power, and a little +fearful, too, of tiring our readers, we would write out all the legends +we have collected of this first fight for consolidation, and show the +blood, too. + +In the statute books of a certain state may be found a number of laws +setting forth the various things that a railroad or railroads may do, and +on the margin of these pages is invariably printed a date, that being the +particular year in which these laws were passed. By a singular +coincidence it is the very year at which we have now arrived in our +story. We do not intend to give a map of the state, or discuss the +merits or demerits of the consolidation of the Central and the +Northwestern and the Truro railroads. Such discussions are not the +province of a novelist, and may all be found in the files of the Tribune +at the State Library. There were, likewise, decisions without number +handed down by the various courts before and after that celebrated +session,--opinions on the validity of leases, on the extension of +railroads, on the rights of individual stockholders--all dry reading +enough. + +At the risk of being picked to pieces by the corporation lawyers who may +read these pages, we shall attempt to state the situation and with all +modesty and impartiality--for we, at least, hold no brief. When Mr. +Isaac D. Worthington obtained that extension of the Truro Railroad (which +we have read about from the somewhat verdant point of view of William +Wetherell), that railroad then formed a connection with another road +which ran northward from Harwich through another state, and with which we +have nothing to do. Having previously purchased a line to the southward +from the capital, Mr. Worthington's railroad was in a position to compete +with Mr. Duncan's (the "Central") for Canadian traffic, and also to cut +into the profits of the "Northwestern," Mr. Lovejoy's road. In brief, +the Truro Railroad found itself very advantageously placed, as Mr. +Worthington and Mr. Flint had foreseen. There followed a period of +bickering and recrimination, of attempts of the other two railroads to +secure representation in the Truro directorate, of suits and injunctions +and appeals to the Legislature and I know not what else--in all of which +affairs Mr. Bijah Bixby and other gentlemen we could name found both +pleasure and remuneration. + +Oh, that those halcyon days of the little wars would come again, when a +captain could ride out almost any time at the held of his band of +mercenaries and see honest fighting and divide honest spoils! There was +much knocking about of men and horses, but very little bloodshed, so we +are told. Mr. Bixby will sit on the sunny side of his barns in Clovelly +and tell you stories of that golden period with tears in his eyes, when +he went to conventions with a pocketful of proxies from the river towns, +and controlled in the greatest legislative year of all a "block" which +included the President of the Senate, for which he got the fabulous sum +of ----. He will tell you, but I won't. Mr. Bixby's occupation is gone +now. We have changed all that, and we are ruled from imperial Rome. If +you don't do right, they cut off your (political) head, and it is of no +use to run away, because there is no one to run to. + +It was Isaac D. Worthington--or shall we say Mr. Flint?--who was +responsible for this pernicious change for the worse, who conceived the +notion of leasing for the Truro the Central and the Northwestern,--thus +making one railroad out of the three. If such a gigantic undertaking +could be got through, Mr. Worthington very rightly deemed that the other +railroads of the state would eventually fall like ripe fruit into their +caps--owning the ground under the tree, as they would. A movement, which +we need not go unto, was first made upon the courts, and for a while +adverse decisions came down like summer rain. A genius by the name of +Jethro Bass had for many years presided (in the room of the governor and +council at the State House) at the political birth of justices of the +Supreme Court. None of them actually wore livery, but we have seen one +of them--along time ago--in a horse blanket. None of them were favorable +to the plans of Mr. Worthington and Mr. Duncan. + +We have listened to the firing on the skirmish lines for a long time, and +now the real battle is at hand. It is June, and the Legislature is +meeting, and Bijah Bixby has come down to the capital at the head of his +regiment of mercenaries, of which Mr. Sutton is the honorary colonel; the +clans are here from the north, well quartered and well fed; the Throne +Room, within the sacred precincts of which we have been before, is +occupied. But there is another headquarters now, too, in the Pelican +House--a Railroad Room; larger than the Throne Room, with a bath-room +leading out of it. Another old friend of ours, Judge Abner Parkinson of +Harwich, he who gave the sardonic laugh when Sam Price applied for the +post of road agent, may often be seen in that Railroad Room from now on. +The fact is that the judge is about to become famous far beyond the +confines of Harwich; for he, and none other, is the author of the +Consolidation Bill itself. + +Mr. Flint is the generalissimo of the allied railroads, and sits in his +headquarters early and late, going over the details of the campaign with +his lieutenants; scanning the clauses of the bill with Judge Parkinson +for the last time, and giving orders to the captains of mercenaries as to +the disposition of their forces; writing out passes for the deserving and +the true. For these latter, also, and for the wavering there is a claw- +hammer on the marble-topped mantel wielded by Mr. Bijah Bixby, pro tem +chief of staff--or of the hammer, for he is self-appointed and very +useful. He opens the mysterious packing cases which come up to the +Railroad Room thrice a week, and there is water to be had in the bath- +room--and glasses. Mr. Bixby also finds time to do some of the scouting +about the rotunda and lobbies, for which he is justly celebrated, and to +drill his regiment every day. The Honorable Heth Sutton, M.C.,--who held +the bridge in the Woodchuck Session,--is there also, sitting in a corner, +swelled with importance, smoking big Florizel cigars which come from-- +somewhere. There are, indeed, many great and battle-scarred veterans who +congregate in that room--too numerous and great to mention; and +saunterers in the Capitol Park opposite know when a council of war is +being held by the volumes of smoke which pour out of the window, just as +the Romans are made cognizant by the smoking of a chimney of when another +notable event takes place. + +Who, then, are left to frequent the Throne Room? Is that ancient seat of +power deserted, and does Jethro Bass sit there alone behind the curtains, +in his bitterness, thinking of other bright June days that are gone? + +Of all those who had been amazed when Jethro Bass suddenly emerged from +his retirement and appeared in the capital some months before, none were +more thunderstruck than certain gentlemen who had been to Coniston +repeatedly, but in vain, to urge him to make this very fight. The most +important of these had been Mr. Balch, president of the "Down East" Road, +and the representatives of two railroads of another state. They had at +last offered Jethro fabulous sums to take charge of their armies in the +field--sums, at least, that would seem fabulous to many people, and had +seemed so to them. When they heard that the lion had roused and shaken +himself and had unaccountably come forth of his own accord, they hastened +to the state capital to renew their offers. Another shock, but of a +different kind, was in store for them. Mr. Balch had not actually driven +the pack-mules, laden with treasure, to the door of the Pelican House, +where Jethro might see them from his window; but he requested a private +audience, and it was probably accidental that the end of his personal +check-book protruded a little from his pocket. He was a big, coarse- +grained man, Mr. Balch, who had once been a brakeman, and had risen by +what is known as horse sense to the presidency of his road. There was a +wonderful sunset beyond the Capitol, but Mr. Balch did not talk about the +sunset, although Jethro was watching it from behind the curtains. + +"If you are willing to undertake this fight against consolidation," said +Mr. Balch, "we are ready to talk business with you." + +"D-don't know what you're going to, do," answered Jethro; "I'm going to +prevent consolidation, if I can." + +"All right," said Balch, smiling. He regarded this reply as one of +Jethro's delicate euphemisms. "We're prepared to give that same little +retainer." + +Jethro did not look up. Mr. Balch went to the table and seized a pen and +filled out a check for an amount that shall be nameless. + +"I have made it payable to bearer, as usual," he said, and he handed it +to Jethro. + +Jethro took it, and absently tore it into little pieces, and threw the +pieces on the floor. Mr. Balch watched him in consternation. He began +to think the report that Jethro had reached his second childhood was +true. + +"What in Halifax are you doing, Bass?" he cried. + +"W-want to stop this consolidation, don't you--want' to stop it?" + +"Certainly I do." + +"G-goin' to do all you can to stop it hain't you?" + +"Certainly I am." + +"I-I'll help you," said Jethro. + +"Help us!" exclaimed Balch. "Great Scott, we want you to take charge of +it." + +"I-I'll do all I can, but I won't guarantee it--w-won't guarantee it," +said Jethro. + +"We don't ask you to guarantee it. If you'll do all you can, that's +enough. You won't take a retainer?" + +"W-won't take anything," said Jethro. + +"You mean to say you don't want anything for your for your time and your +services if the bill is defeated?" + +"T-that's about it, Ed. Little p-private matter with both of us. You +don't want consolidation, and I don't. I hain't offered to give you a +retainer--have I?" + +"No," said the astounded Mr. Balch. He scratched his head and fingered +the leaves of his check-book. The captains over the tens and the +captains over the hundreds would want little retainers--and who was to +pay these? "How about the boys?" asked Mr. Balch. + +"S-still got the same office in the depot--hain't you, Ed, s-same +office?" + +"Yes." + +"G-guess the boys hev b'en there before," said Jethro. + +Mr. Balch went away, meditating upon those sayings, and took the train +for Boston. If he had waked up of a fine morning to find himself at the +head of some benevolent and charitable organization, instead of the "Down +East" Railroad, he could not have been more astonished than he had been +at the unaccountable change of heart of Jethro Bass. He did not know +what to make of it, and told his colleagues so; and at first they feared +one of two things,--treachery or lunacy. But a little later a rumor +reached Mr. Balch's ears that Jethro's hatred of Isaac D. Worthington was +at the bottom of his reappearance in public life, although Jethro himself +never mentioned Mr. Worthington's name. Jethro sat in the Throne Room, +consulting, directing day after day, and when the Legislature assembled, +"the boys" began to call at Mr. Balch's office. But Mr. Balch never +again broached the subject of money to Jethro Bass. + +We have to sing the song of sixpence for the last time in these pages; +and as it is an old song now, there will be no encores. If you can buy +one member of the lower house for ten dollars, how many members can you +buy for fifty? It was no such problem in primary arithmetic that Mr. +Balch and his associates had to solve--theirs was in higher mathematics, +in permutations and combinations, and in least squares. No wonder the +old campaigners speak with tears in their eyes of the days of that ever +memorable summer. There were spoils to be picked up in the very streets +richer than the sack of the thirty cities; and as the session wore on it +is affirmed by men still living that money rained down in the Capitol +Park and elsewhere like manna from the skies, if you were one of a chosen +band. If you were, all you had to do was to look in your vest pockets +when you took your clothes off in the evening and extract enough legal +tender to pay your bill at the Pelican for a week. Mr. Lovejoy having +been overheard one day to make a remark concerning the diet of hogs, the +next morning certain visitors to the capital were horrified to discover +trails of corn leading from the Pelican House to their doorways. Men who +had never seen a receiving teller opened bank accounts. No, it was not a +problem in simple arithmetic, and Mr. Balch and Mr. Flint, and even Mr. +Duncan and Mr. Worthington, covered whole sheets with figures during the +stifling days in July. Some men are so valuable that they can be bought +twice, or even three times, and they make figuring complicated. + +Jethro Bass did no calculating. He sat behind the curtains, and he must +have kept the figures in his head. + +The battle had closed in earnest, and for twelve long, sultry weeks it +raged with unabated fierceness. Consolidation had a terror for the rural +mind, and the state Tribune skilfully played its stream upon the +constituents of those gentlemen who stood tamely at the Worthington +hitching-posts, and the constituents flocked to the capital; that able +newspaper, too, found space to return, with interest, the attacks of Mr. +Worthington's organ, the Newcastle Guardian. These amenities are much +too personal to reproduce here, now that the smoke of battle has rolled +away. An epic could be written upon the conflict, if there were space: +Canto One, the first position carried triumphantly, though at some +expense, by the Worthington forces, who elect the Speaker. That had been +a crucial time before the town meetings, when Jethro abdicated. The +Worthington Speaker goes ahead with his committees, and it is needless to +say that Mr. Chauncey Weed is not made Chairman of the Committee on +Corporations. As an offset to this, the Jethro forces gain on the +extreme right, where the Honorable Peleg Hartington is made President of +the Senate, etc. + +For twelve hot weeks, with a public spirit which is worthy of the highest +praise, the Committee sit in their shirt sleeves all day long and listen +to arguments for and against consolidation; and ask learned questions +that startle rural witnesses; and smoke big Florizel cigars (a majority +of them). Judge Abner Parkinson defends his bill, quoting from the +Constitution and the Declaration of Independence and the Bible; a +celebrated lawyer from the capital riddles it, using the same +authorities, and citing the Federalist and the Golden Rule in addition. +The Committee sit open-minded, listening with laudable impartiality; it +does not become them to arrive at a hasty decision on a question of such +magnitude. In the meantime the House passes an important bill dealing +with the bounty on hedgehogs, and there are several card games going on +in the cellar, where it is cool. + +The governor of the state is a free lance, and may be seen any afternoon +walking through the park, consorting with no one. He may be recognized +even at a distance by his portly figure, his silk hat, and his dignified +mien. Yes, it is an old and valued friend, the Honorable Alva Hopkins, +patron of the drama, and sometimes he has a beautiful young woman (still +unattached) by his side. He lives in a suite of rooms at the Pelican. +It is a well-known fact (among Mr. Worthington's supporters) that the +Honorable Alva promised in January, when Mr. Bass retired, to sign the +Consolidation Bill, and that he suddenly became open-minded in March, and +has remained open-minded ever since, listening gravely to arguments, and +giving much study to the subject. He is an executive now, although it is +the last year of his term, and of course he is never seen either in the +Throne Room or the Railroad Room. And besides, he may become a senator. + +August has come, and the forces are spent and panting, and neither side +dares to risk the final charge. The reputation of Jethro Bass is at +stake. Should he risk and lose, he must go back to Coniston a beaten +man, subject to the contempt of his neighbors and his state. People do +not know that he has nothing now to go back to, and that he cares nothing +for contempt. As he sits in his window day after day he has only one +thought and one wish,--to ruin Isaac D. Worthington. And he will do it +if he can. Those who know--and among them is Mr. Balch himself--say that +Jethro has never conducted a more masterly campaign than this, and that +all the others have been mere childish trials of strength compared to it. +So he sits there through those twelve weeks while the session slips by, +while his opponents grumble, and while even his supporters, eager for the +charge, complain. The truth is that in all the years of his activity be +has never had such an antagonist as Mr. Flint. Victory hangs in the +balance, and a false move will throw it to either side. + +Victory hangs now, to be explicit, upon two factors. The first and most +immediate of these is a certain canny captain of many wars whose regiment +is still at the disposal of either army--for a price, a regiment which +has hitherto remained strictly neutral. And what a regiment it is! A +block of river towns and a senator, and not a casualty since they marched +boldly into camp twelve weeks ago. Mr. Batch is getting very much +worried about this regiment, and beginning to doubt Jethro's judgment. + +"I tell you, Bass," he said one evening, "if you allow him to run around +loose much longer, we're lost, that's all there is to it!" (Mr. Batch +referred to the captain in question.) "They'll buy up his block at his +figure--see, if they don't. They're getting desperate. Don't you think +I'd better bid him in?" + +"B-bid him in if you've a mind to; Ed." + +"Look here, Jethro," said Mr. Batch, savagely biting off the end of a +cigar, "I'm beginning to think you don't care a continental about this +business. Which side are you on, anyway?" The heat and the length and +the uncertainty of the struggle were telling on the nerves of the +railroad president. "You sit there from morning till night and won't say +anything; and now, when there's only one block out, you won't give the +word to buy it." + +"N-never told you to buy anything, did I--Ed?" + +"No," answered Mr. Batch, "you haven't. I don't know what the devil's +got into you." + +"D-done all the payin' without consultin' me, hain't you, Ed?" + +"Yes; I have. What are you driving at?" + +"D-done it if I hadn't b'en here, wouldn't you?" + +"Yes, and more too," said Mr. Batch. + +"W-wouldn't make much difference to you if I wasn't here--would it?" + +"Great Scott, Jethro, what do you mean?" cried the railroad president, in +genuine alarm; "you're not going to pull out, are you?" + +"W-wouldn't make much odds if I did--would it, Ed?" + +"The devil it wouldn't!" exclaimed Mr. Balch. "If you pulled out, we'd +lose the North Country, and Peleg, and Gosport, and nobody can tell which +way Alva Hopkins will swing. I guess you know what he'll do--you're so +d--d secretive I can't tell whether you do or not. If you pulled out, +they'd have their bill on Friday." + +"H-hain't under any obligations to you, Ed--am I?" + +"No," said Mr. Batch, "but I don't see why you keep harping on that." + +"J-dust wanted to have it clear," said Jethro, and relapsed into silence. + +There was a fireproof carpet on the Throne Room, and Mr. Batch flung down +his cigar and stamped on it and went out. No wonder he could not +understand Jethro's sudden scruples about money and obligations--about +railroad money, that is. Jethro was spending some of his own, but not in +the capital, and in a manner which was most effective. In short, at the +very moment when Mr. Batch stamped on his cigar, Jethro had the victory +in his hands--only he did not choose to say so. He had had a mysterious +telegram that day from Harwich, signed by Chauncey Weed, and Mr. Weed +himself appeared at the door of Number 7, fresh from his travels, shortly +after Mr. Batch had gone out of it. Mr. Weed closed the door gently, and +locked it, and sat down in a rocking chair close to Jethro and put his +hand over his mouth. We cannot hear what Mr. Weed is saying. All is +mystery here, and in order to preserve that mystery we shall delay for a +little the few words which will explain Mr. Weed's successful mission. + +Mr. Batch, angry and bewildered, descended into the rotunda, where he +shortly heard two astounding pieces of news. The first was that the +Honorable Heth Sutton had abandoned the Florizel cigars and had gone home +to Clovelly. The second; that Mr. Bijah Bixby had resigned the claw- +hammer and had ceased to open the packing cases in the Railroad Room. +Consternation reigned in that room, so it was said (and this was true). +Mr. Worthington and Mr. Duncan and Mr. Lovejoy were closeted there with +Mr. Flint, and the door was locked and the transom shut, and smoke was +coming out of the windows. + +Yes, Mr. Bijah Bixby is the canny captain of whom Mr. Balch spoke: he it +is who owns that block of river towns, intact, and the one senator. +Impossible! We have seen him opening the packing cases, we have seen him +working for the Worthington faction for the last two years. Mr. Bixby +was very willing to open boxes, and to make himself useful and agreeable; +but it must be remembered that a good captain of mercenaries owes a +sacred duty to his followers. At first Mr. Flint had thought he could +count on Mr. Bixby; after a while he made several unsuccessful attempts +to talk business with him; a particularly difficult thing to do, even for +Mr. Flint, when Mr. Bixby did not wish to talk business. Mr. Balch had +found it quite as difficult to entice Mr. Bixby away from the boxes and +the Railroad Room. The weeks drifted on, until twelve went by, and then +Mr. Bixby found himself, with his block of river towns and one senator, +in the incomparable position of being the arbiter of the fate of the +Consolidation Bill in the House and Senate. No wonder Mr. Balch wanted +to buy the services of that famous regiment at any price! + +But Mr. Bixby, for once in his life, had waited too long. + +When Mr. Balch, rejoicing, but not a little indignant at not having been +taken into confidence, ascended to the Throne Room after supper to +question Jethro concerning the meaning of the things he had heard, he +found Senator Peleg Hartington seated mournfully on the bed, talking at +intervals, and Jethro listening. + +"Come up and eat out of my hand," said the senator. + +"Who?" demanded Mr. Balch. + +"Bije," answered the senator. + +"Great Scott, do you mean to say you've got Bixby?" exclaimed the +railroad president. He felt as if he would like to shake the senator, +who was so deliberate and mournful in his answers. "What did you pay +him?" + +Mr. Hartington appeared shocked by the question. + +"Guess Heth Sutton will settle with him," he said. + +"Heth Sutton! Why the--why should Heth pay him?" + +"Guess Heth'd like to make him a little present, under the circumstances. +I was goin' through the barber shop," Mr. Hartington continued, speaking +to Jethro and ignoring the railroad president, "and I heard somebody +whisperin' my name. Sound came out of that little shampoo closet; went +in there and found Bije. 'Peleg,' says he, right into my ear, 'tell +Jethro it's all right--you understand. We want Heth to go back--break +his heart if he didn't--you understand. If I'd knowed last winter Jethro +meant business, I wouldn't hev' helped Gus Flint out. Tell Jethro he can +have 'em--you know what I mean.' Bije waited a little mite too long," +said the senator, who had given a very fair imitation of Mr. Bixby's +nasal voice and manner. + +"Well, I'm d--d!" ejaculated Mr. Balch, staring at Jethro. "How did you +work it?" + +"Sent Chauncey through the deestrict," said Mr. Hartington. + +Mr. Chauncey Weed had, in truth, gone through a part of the congressional +district of the Honorable Heth Sutton with a little leather bag. Mr. +Weed had been able to do some of his work (with the little leather bag) +in the capital itself. In this way Mr. Bixby's regiment, Sutton was the +honorary colonel, had been attacked in the rear and routed. Here was to +be a congressional convention that autumn, and a large part of Mr. +Sutton's district lay in the North Country, which, as we have seen, was +loyal to Jethro to the back bone. The district, too, was largely rural, +and therefore anti-consolidation, and the inability of the Worthington +forces to get their bill through had made it apparent that Jethro Bass +was as powerful as ever. Under these circumstances it had not been very +difficult for a gentleman of Mr. Chauncey Weed's powers of persuasion to +induce various lieutenants in the district to agree to send delegates to +the coming convention who would be conscientiously opposed to Mr. Sutton's +renomination: hence the departure from the capital of Mr. Sutton; hence +the generous offer of Mr. Bixby to put his regiment at the disposal of +Mr. Bass--free of charge. + +The second factor on which victory hung (we can use the past tense now) +was none other than his Excellency Alva Hopkins, governor of the state. +The bill would never get to his Excellency now--so people said; would +never get beyond that committee who had listened so patiently to the +twelve weeks of argument. These were only rumors, after all, for the +rotunda never knows positively what goes on in high circles; but the +rotunda does figuring, too, when at length the problem is reduced to a +simple equation, with Bijah Bixby as x. If it were true that Bijah had +gone over to Jethro Bass, the Consolidation Bill was dead. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +When Jethro Bass walked out of the hotel that evening men looked at him, +and made way for him, but none spoke to him. There was something in his +face that forbade speech. He was a great man once more--a greater man +than ever; and he had, if the persistent rumors were true, accomplished +an almost incomprehensible feat, even for Jethro Bass. There was another +reason, too, why they stared at him. In all those twelve weeks of that +most trying of all sessions he had not once gone into the street, and he +had been less than ever common in the eyes of men. Twice a day he had +descended to the dining room for a simple meal--that was all; and fewer +had gained entrance to Room Number 7 this session than ever before. + +There is a river that flows by the capital, a wide and gentle river +bordered by green meadows and fringed with willows; higher up, if you go +far enough, a forest comes down to the water on the western side. Jethro +walked through the hooded bridge, and up the eastern bank until he could +see the forest like a black band between the orange sky and the orange +river, and there he sat down upon a fallen log on the edge of the bank. +But Jethro was thinking of another scene,--of a granite-ribbed pasture on +Coniston Mountain that swings in limitless space, from either end of +which a man may step off into eternity. William Wetherell, in one of his +letters, had described that place as the Threshold of the Nameless +Worlds, and so it had seemed to Jethro in the years of his desolation. +He was thinking of it now, even as it had been in his mind that winter's +evening when Cynthia had come to Coniston and had surprised him with that +look of terrible loneliness on his face. + +Yes, and he was thinking of Cynthia. When, indeed, had he not been +thinking of her? How many tunes had he rehearsed the events in the +tannery house--for they were the events of his life now. The triumphs +over his opponents and enemies fell away, and the pride of power. Such +had not been his achievements. She had loved him, and no man had reached +a higher pinnacle than that. + +Why he had forfeited that love for vengeance, he could not tell. The +embers of a man's passions will suddenly burst into flame, and he will +fiddle madly while the fire burns his soul. He had avenged her as well +as himself; but had he avenged her, now that he held Isaac Worthington in +his power? By crushing him, had he not added to her trouble and her +sorrow? She had confessed that she loved Isaac Worthington's son, and +was not he (Jethro) widening the breach between Cynthia and the son by +crushing the father? Jethro had not thought of this. But he had thought +of her, night and day, as he had sat in his room directing the battle. +Not a day had passed that he had not looked for a letter, hoping against +hope. If she had written to him once, if she had come to him once, would +he have desisted? He could not say--the fires of hatred had burned so +fiercely, and still burned so fiercely, that he clenched his fists when +it came over him that Isaac Worthington was at last in his power. + +A white line above the forest was all that remained of the sunset when he +rose up and took from his coat a silver locket and opened it and held it +to the fading light. Presently he closed it again, and walked slowly +along the river bank toward the little city twinkling on its hill. He +crossed the hooded bridge and climbed the slope, stopping for a moment at +a little stationery shop; he passed through the groups which were still +loudly discussing this thing he had done, and gained his room and locked +the door. Men came to it and knocked and got no answer. The room was in +darkness, and the night breeze stirred among the trees in the park and +blew in at the window. + +At last Jethro got up and lighted the gas and paused at the centre table. +He was to violate more than one principle of his life that night, though +not without a struggle; and he sat for a long while looking at the blank +paper before him. Then he wrote, and sealed the letter--which contained +three lines--and pulled the bell cord. The call was answered by a +messenger who had been far many years in the service of the Pelican +House, and who knew many secrets of the gods. The man actually grew pale +when he saw the address on the envelope which was put in his hand and +read the denomination of the crisp note under it that was the price of +silence. + +"F-find the gentleman and give it to him yourself. Er--John?" + +"Yes, Mr. Bass?" + +"If you don't find him, bring it--back." + +When the man had gone, Jethro turned down the gas and went again to his +chair by the window. For a while voices came up to him from the street, +but at length the groups dispersed, one by one; and a distant clock +boomed out eleven solemn strokes. Twice the clock struck again, at the +half-hour and midnight, and the noises in the house--the banging of doors +and the jangling of keys and the hurrying of feet in the corridors--were +hushed. Jethro took no thought of these or of time, and sat gazing at +the stars in the depths of the sky above the capital dome until a shadow +emerged from the black mass of the trees opposite and crossed the street. +In a few minutes there were footsteps in the corridor,--stealthy +footsteps--and a knock on the door. Jethro got up and opened it, and +closed it again and locked it. Then he turned up the gas. + +"S-sit down," he said, and nodded his head toward the chair by the table. + +Isaac Worthington laid his silk hat on the table, and sat down. He +looked very haggard and worn in that light, very unlike the first citizen +who had entered Brampton in triumph on his return from the West not many +months before. The long strain of a long fight, in which he had risked +much for which he had labored a life to gain, had told on him, and there +were crow's-feet at the corners of, his eyes, and dark circles under +them. Isaac Worthington had never lost before, and to destroy the fruits +of such a man's ambition is to destroy the man. He was not as young as +he had once been. But now, in the very hour of defeat, hope had +rekindled the fire in the eyes and brought back the peculiar, tight- +lipped, mocking smile to the mouth. An hour ago, when he had been pacing +Alexander Duncan's library, the eyes and the mouth had been different. + +Long habit asserts itself at the strangest moments. Jethro Bass took his +seat by the window, and remained silent. The clock tolled the half-hour +after midnight. + +"You wanted to see me," said Mr. Worthington, finally. + +Jethro nodded, almost imperceptibly. + +"I suppose," said Mr. Worthington, slowly, "I suppose you are ready to +sell out." He found it a little difficult to control his voice. + +"Yes," answered Jethro, "r-ready to sell out." + +Mr. Worthington was somewhat taken aback by this simple admission. He +glanced at Jethro sitting motionless by the window, and in his heart he +feared him: he had come into that room when the gas was low, afraid. +Although he would not confess it to himself, he had been in fear of +Jethro Bass all his life, and his fear had been greater than ever since +the March day when Jethro had left Coniston. And could he have known, +now, the fires of hatred burning in Jethro's breast, Isaac Worthington +would have been in terror indeed. + +"What have you got to sell?" he demanded sharply. + +"G-guess you know, or you wouldn't have come here." + +"What proof have I that you have it to sell?" + +Jethro looked at him for an instant. + +"M-my word," he said. + +Isaac Worthington was silent for a while: he was striving to calm +himself, for an indefinable something had shaken him. The strange +stillness of the hour and the stranger atmosphere which seemed to +surround this transaction filled him with a nameless dread. The man in +the window had been his lifelong enemy: more than this, Jethro Bass, was +not like ordinary men--his ways were enshrouded in mystery, and when he +struck, he struck hard. There grew upon Isaac Worthington a sense that +this midnight hour was in some way to be the culmination of the long +years of hatred between them. + +He believed Jethro: he would have believed him even if Mr. Flint had not +informed him that afternoon that he was beaten, and bitterly he wished he +had taken Mr. Flint's advice many months before. Denunciation sprang to +his lips which he dared not utter. He was beaten, and he must pay--the +pound of flesh. Isaac Worthington almost thought it would be a pound of +flesh. + +"How much do you want?" he said. + +Again Jethro looked at him. + +"B-biggest price you can pay," he answered. + +"You must have made up your mind what you want. You've had time enough." + +"H-have made up my mind," said Jethro. + +"Make your demand," said Mr. Worthington, "and I'll give you my answer." + +"B-biggest price you can pay," said Jethro, again. + +Mr. Worthington's nerves could stand it no longer. + +"Look here," he cried, rising in his chair, "if you've brought me here to +trifle with me, you've made a mistake. It's your business to get control +of things that belong to other people, and sell them out. I am here to +buy. Nothing but necessity brings me here, and nothing but necessity +will keep me here a moment longer than I have to stay to finish this +abominable affair. I am ready to pay you twenty thousand dollars the day +that bill becomes a law." + +This time Jethro did not look at him. + +"P-pay me now," he said. + +"I will pay you the day the bill becomes a law. Then I shall know where +I stand." + +Jethro did not answer this ultimatum in any manner, but remained +perfectly still looking out of the window. Mr. Worthington glanced at +him, twice, and got his fingers on the brim of his hat, but he did not +pick it up. He stood so for a while, knowing full well that if he went +out of that room his chance was gone. Consolidation might come in other +years, but he, Isaac Worthington, would not be a factor in it. + +"You don't want a check, do you?" he said at last. + +"No--d-don't want a check." + +"What in God's name do you want? I haven't got twenty thousand dollars +in currency in my pocket." + +"Sit down, Isaac Worthington," said Jethro. + +Mr. Worthington sat down--out of sheer astonishment, perhaps. + +"W-want the consolidation--don't you? Want it bad--don't you?" + +Mr. Worthington did, not answer. Jethro stood over him now, looking down +at him from the other side of the narrow table. + +"Know Cynthy Wetherell?" he said. + +Then Isaac Worthington understood that his premonitions had been real. +The pound of flesh was to be demanded, but strangely enough, he did not +yet comprehend the nature of it. + +"I know that there is such a person," he answered, for his pride would +not permit him to say more. + +"W-what do you know about her?" + +Isaac Worthington was bitterly angry--the more so because he was +helpless, and could not question Jethro's right to ask. What did he know +about her? Nothing, except that she had intrigued to marry his son. +Bob's letter had described her, to be sure, but he could not be expected +to believe that: and he had not heard Miss Lucretia Penniman's speech. +And yet he could not tell Jethro that he knew nothing about her, for he +was shrewd enough to perceive the drift of the next question. + +"Kn-know anything against her?" said Jethro. + +Mr. Worthington leaned back in his chair. + +"I can't see what Miss Wetherell has to do with the present occasion," he +replied. + +"H-had her dismissed by the prudential committee had her dismissed-- +didn't you?" + +"They chose to act as they saw fit." + +"T-told Levi Dodd to dismiss her--didn't you?" + +That was a matter of common knowledge in Brampton, having leaked out +through Jonathan Hill. + +"I must decline to discuss this," said Mr. Worthington. + +"W-wouldn't if I was you." + +"What do you mean?" + +"What I say. T-told Levi Dodd to dismiss her, didn't you?" + +"Yes, I did." Isaac Worthington had lost in self-esteem by not saying so +before. + +"Why? Wahn't she honest? Wahn't she capable? Wahn't she a lady?" + +"I can't say that I know anything against Miss Wetherell's character, if +that's what you mean." + +"F-fit to teach--wahn't she--fit to teach?" + +"I believe she has since qualified before Mr. Errol." + +"Fit to teach--wahn't fit to marry your son--was she?" + +Isaac Worthington clutched the table and started from his chair. He grew +white to his lips with anger, and yet he knew that he must control +himself. + +"Mr. Bass," he said, "you have something to sell, and I have something to +buy--if the price is not ruinous. Let us confine ourselves to that. My +affairs and my son's affairs are neither here nor there. I ask you +again, how much do you want for this Consolidation Bill?" + +"N-no money will buy it." + +"What!" + +"C-consent to this marriage, c-consent to this marriage." There was yet +room for Isaac Worthington to be amazed, and for a while he stared up at +Jethro, speechless. + +"Is that your price?" he asked at last. + +"Th-that's my price," said Jethro. + +Isaac Worthington got up and went to the window and stood looking out +above the black mass of trees at the dome outlined against the star- +flecked sky. At first his anger choked him, and he could not think; he +had just enough reason left not to walk out of the door. But presently +habit asserted itself in him, too, and he began to reflect and calculate +in spite of his anger. It is strange that memory plays so small a part +in such a man. Before he allowed his mind to dwell on the fearful price, +he thought of his ambitions gratified; and yet he did not think then of +the woman to whom he had once confided those ambitions--the woman who was +the girl's mother. Perhaps Jethro was thinking of her. + +It may have been--I know not--that Isaac Worthington wondered at this +revelation of the character of Jethro Bass, for it was a revelation. For +this girl's sake Jethro was willing to forego his revenge, was willing at +the end of his days to allow the world to believe that he had sold out to +his enemy, or that he had been defeated by him. + +But when he thought of the marriage, Isaac Worthington ground his teeth. +A certain sentiment which we may call pride was so strong in him that he +felt ready to make almost any sacrifice to prevent it. To hinder it he +had quarrelled with his son, and driven him away, and threatened +disinheritance. The price was indeed heavy--the heaviest he could pay. +But the alternative--was not that heavier? To relinquish his dream of +power, to sink for a while into a crippled state; for he had spent large +sums, and one of those periodical depressions had come in the business of +the mills, and those Western investments were not looking so bright now. + +So, with his hands opening and closing in front of him, Isaac Worthington +fought out his battle. A terrible war, that, between ambition and pride +--a war to the knife. The issue may yet have been undecided when he +turned round to Jethro with a sneer which he could not resist. + +"Why doesn't she marry him without my consent?" + +In a moment Mr. Worthington knew he had gone too far. A certain kind of +an eye is an incomparable weapon, and armed men have been cowed by those +who possess it, though otherwise defenceless. Jethro Bass had that kind +of an eye. + +"G-guess you wouldn't understand if I was to tell you," he said. + +Mr. Worthington walked to the window again, perhaps to compose himself, +and then came back again. + +"Your proposition is," he said at length, "that if I give my consent to +this marriage, we are to have Bixby and the governor, and the +Consolidation Bill will become a law. Is that it?" + +"Th-that's it," said Jethro, taking his accustomed seat. + +"And this consent is to be given when the bill becomes a law?" + +"Given now. T-to-night." + +Mr. Worthington took another turn as far as the door, and suddenly came +and stood before Jethro. + +"Well, I consent." + +Jethro nodded toward the table. + +"Er--pen and paper there," he said. + +"What do you want me to do?" demanded Mr. Worthington. + +"W-write to Bob--write to Cynthy. Nice letters." + +"This is carrying matters with too high a hand, Mr. Bass. I will write +the letters to-morrow morning." It was intolerable that he, the first +citizen of Brampton, should have to submit to such humiliation. + +"Write 'em now. W-want to see 'em." + +"But if I give you my word they will be written and sent to you to-morrow +afternoon?" + +"T-too late," said Jethro; "sit down and write 'em now." + +Mr. Worthington went irresolutely to the table, stood for a minute, and +dropped suddenly into the chair there. He would have given anything +(except the realization of his ambitions) to have marched out of the room +and to have slammed the door behind him. The letter paper and envelopes +which Jethro had bought stood in a little pile, and Mr. Worthington +picked up the pen. The clock struck two as he wrote the date, as though +to remind him that he had written it wrong. If Flint could see him now! +Would Flint guess? Would anybody guess? He stared at the white paper, +and his rage came on again like a gust of wind, and he felt that he would +rather beg in the streets than write such a thing. And yet--and yet he +sat there. Surely Jethro Bass must have known that he could have taken +no more exquisite vengeance than this, to compel a man--and such a man-- +to sit down in the white heat of passion--and write two letters of +forgiveness! Jethro sat by the window, to all appearances oblivious to +the tortures of his victim. + +He who has tried to write a note--the simplest note when his mind was +harassed, will understand something of Isaac Worthington's sensations. +He would no sooner get an inkling of what his opening sentence was to be +than the flames of his anger would rise and sweep it away. He could not +even decide which letter he was to write first: to his son, who had +defied him and who (the father knew in his heart) condemned him? or to +the schoolteacher, who was responsible for all his misery; who--Mr. +Worthington believed--had taken advantage of his son's youth by feminine +wiles of no mean order so as to gain possession of him. I can almost +bring myself to pity the first citizen of Brampton as he sits there with +his pen poised over the paper, and his enemy waiting to read those tender +epistles of forgiveness which he has yet to write. The clock has almost +got round to the half-hour again, and there is only the date--and a wrong +one at that. + +"My dear Miss Wetherell,--Circumstances (over which I have no control?)" +--ought he not to call her Cynthia? He has to make the letter credible in +the eyes of the censor who sits by the window. "My dear Miss Wetherell, +I have come to the conclusion"--two sheets torn up, or thrust into Mr. +Worthington's pocket. By this time words have begun to have a colorless +look. "My dear Miss Wetherell,--Having become convinced of the sincere +attachment which my son Robert has for you, I am writing him to-night to +give my full consent to his marriage. He has given me to understand that +you have hitherto persistently refused to accept him because I have +withheld that consent, and I take this opportunity of expressing my +admiration of this praiseworthy resolution on your part." (If this be +irony, it is sublime! Perhaps Isaac Worthington has a little of the +artist in him, and now that he is in the heat of creation has forgotten +the circumstances under which he is composing.) "My son's happiness and +career in life are of such moment to me that, until the present, I could +not give my sanction to what I at first regarded as a youthful fancy. +Now that, my son, for your sake, has shown his determination and ability +to make his own way in the world," (Isaac Worthington was not a little +proud of this) "I have determined that it is wise to withdraw my +opposition, and to recall Robert to his proper place, which is near me. +I am sure that my feelings in this matter will be clear to you, and that +you will look with indulgence upon any acts of mine which sprang from a +natural solicitation for the welfare and happiness of my only child. I +shall be in Brampton in a day or two, and I shall at once give myself the +pleasure of calling on you. Sincerely yours, Isaac D. Worthington." + +Perhaps a little formal and pompous for some people, but an admirable and +conciliatory letter for the first citizen of Brampton. Written under +such trying circumstances, with I know not how many erasures and false +starts, it is little short of a marvel in art: neither too much said, nor +too little, for a relenting parent of Mr. Worthington's character, and I +doubt whether Talleyrand or Napoleon or even Machiavelli himself could +have surpassed it. The second letter, now that Mr. Worthington had got +into the swing, was more easily written. "My dear Robert" (it said), "I +have made up my mind to give my consent to your marriage to Miss +Wetherell, and I am ready to welcome you home, where I trust I shall see +you shortly. I have not been unimpressed by the determined manner in +which you have gone to work for yourself, but I believe that your place +is in Brampton, where I trust you will show the same energy in learning +to succeed me in the business which I have founded there as you have +exhibited in Mr. Broke's works. Affectionately, your Father." + +A very creditable and handsome letter for a forgiving father. When Mr. +Worthington had finished it, and had addressed both the envelopes, his +shame and vexation had, curious to relate, very considerably abated. Not +to go too deeply into the somewhat contradictory mental and cardiac +processes of Mr. Worthington, he had somehow tricked himself by that +magic exercise of wielding his pen into thinking that he was doing a +noble and generous action: into believing that in the course of a very +few days--or weeks, at the most, he would have recalled his erring son +and have given Cynthia his blessing. He would, he told himself, have +been forced eventually to yield when that paragon of inflexibility, Bob, +dictated terms to him at the head of the locomotive works. Better let +the generosity be on his (Mr. Worthington's) side. At all events, +victory had never been bought more cheaply. Humiliation, in Mr. +Worthington's eyes, had an element of publicity in it, and this episode +had had none of that element; and Jethro Bass, moreover, was a highwayman +who had held a pistol to his head. In such logical manner he gradually +bolstered up again his habitual poise and dignity. Next week, at the +latest, men would point to him as the head of the largest railroad +interests in the state. + +He pushed back his chair, and rose, merely indicating the result of his +labors by a wave of his hand. And he stood in the window as Jethro Bass +got up and went to the table. I would that I had a pen able to describe +Jethro's sensations when he read them. Unfortunately, he is a man with +few facial expressions. But I believe that he was artist enough himself +to appreciate the perfections of the first citizen's efforts. After a +much longer interval than was necessary for their perusal, Mr. +Worthington turned. + +"G-guess they'll do," said Jethro, as he folded them up. He was too +generous not to indulge, for once, in a little well-deserved praise. +"Hain't underdone it, and hain't overdone it a mite hev you? M-man of +resource. Callate you couldn't hev beat that if you was to take a week +to it." + +"I think it only fair to tell you," said Mr. Worthington, picking up his +silk hat, "that in those letters I have merely anticipated a very little +my intentions in the matter. My son having proved his earnestness, +I was about to consent to the marriage of my own accord." + +"G-goin' to do it anyway--was you?" + +"I had so determined." + +"A-always thought you was high-minded," said Jethro. + +Mr. Worthington was on the point of giving a tart reply to this, but +restrained himself. + +"Then I may look upon the matter as settled?" he said. "The +Consolidation Bill is to become a law?" + +"Yes," said Jethro, "you'll get your bill." Mr. Worthington had got his +hand on the knob of the door when Jethro stopped him with a word. He had +no facial expressions, but he had an eye, as we have seen--an eye that +for the second time appeared terrible to his visitor. "Isaac +Worthington," he said, "a-act up to it. No trickery--or look out--look +out." + +Then, the incident being closed so far as he was concerned, Jethro went +back to his chair by the window, but it is to be recorded that Isaac +Worthington did not answer him immediately. Then he said:-- + +"You seem to forget that you are talking to a gentleman." + +"That's so," answered Jethro, "so you be." + +He sat where he was long after the sky had whitened and the stars had +changed from gold to silver and gone out, and the sunlight had begun to +glance upon the green leaves of the park. Perhaps he was thinking of the +life he had lived, which was spent now: of the men he had ruled, of the +victories he had gained from that place which would know him no more. He +had won the last and the greatest of his victories there, compared to +which the others had indeed been as vanities. Perhaps he looked back +over the highway of his life and thought of the woman whom he had loved, +and wondered what it had been if she had trod it by his side. Who will +judge him? He had been what he had been; and as the Era was, so was he. +Verily, one generation passeth away, and another generation cometh. + +When Mr. Isaac Worthington arrived at Mr. Duncan's house, where he was +staying, at three o'clock in the morning, he saw to his surprise light +from the library windows lying in bars across the lawn under the trees. +He found Mr. Duncan in that room with Somers, his son, who had just +returned from a seaside place, and they were discussing a very grave +event. Miss Janet Duncan had that day eloped with a gentleman who--to +judge from the photograph Somers held--was both handsome and romantic- +looking. He had long hair and burning eyes, and a title not to be then +verified, and he owned a castle near some place on the peninsula of Italy +not on the map. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +We are back in Brampton, owning, as we do, an annual pass over the Truro +Railroad. Cynthia has been there all the summer, and as it is now the +first of September, her school has begun again. I do not by any means +intend to imply that Brampton is not a pleasant place to spend the +summer: the number of its annual visitors is a refutation of that; but to +Cynthia the season had been one of great unhappiness. Several times Lem +Hallowell had stopped the stage in front of Ephraim's house to beg her to +go to Coniston, and Mr. Satterlee had come himself; but she could not +have borne to be there without Jethro. Nor would she go to Boston, +though urged by Miss Lucretia; and Mrs. Merrill and the girls had +implored her to join them at a seaside place on the Cape. + +Cynthia had made a little garden behind Ephraim's house, and she spent +the summer there with her flowers and her books, many of which Lem had +fetched from Coniston. Ephraim loved to sit there of an evening and +smoke his pipe and chat with Ezra Graves and the neighbors who dropped +in. Among these were Mr. Gamaliel Ives, who talked literature with +Cynthia; and Lucy Baird, his wife, who had taken Cynthia under her wing. +I wish I had time to write about Lucy Baird. And Mr. Jonathan Hill came- +-his mortgage not having been foreclosed, after all. When Cynthia was +alone with Ephraim she often read to him,--generally from books of a +martial flavor,--and listened with an admirable hypocrisy to certain +narratives which he was in the habit of telling. + +They never spoke of Jethro. Ephraim was not a casuist, and his sense of +right and wrong came largely through his affections. It is safe to say +that he never made an analysis of the sorrow which he knew was afflicting +the girl, but he had had a general and most sympathetic understanding of +it ever since the time when Jethro had gone back to the capital; and +Ephraim never brought home his Guardian or his Clarion now, but read them +at the office, that their contents might not disturb her. + +No wonder that Cynthia was unhappy. The letters came, almost every day, +with the postmark of the town in New Jersey where Mr. Broke's locomotive +works were; and she answered them now (but oh, how scrupulously!), though +not every day. If the waters of love rose up through the grains of sand, +it was, at least, not Cynthia's fault. Hers were the letters of a +friend. She was reading such and such a book--had he read it? And he +must not work too hard. How could her letters be otherwise when Jethro +Bass, her benefactor, was at the capital working to defeat and perhaps to +ruin Bob's father? when Bob's father had insulted and persecuted her? +She ought not to have written at all; but the lapses of such a heroine +are very rare, and very dear. + +Yes, Cynthia's life was very bitter that summer, with but little hope on +the horizon of it. Her thoughts were divided between Bob and Jethro. +Many a night she lay awake resolving to write to Jethro, even to go to +him, but when morning came she could not bring herself to do so. I do +not think it was because she feared that he might believe her appeal +would be made in behalf of Bob's father. Knowing Jethro as she did, she +felt that it would be useless, and she could not bear to make it in vain; +if the memory of that evening in the tannery shed would not serve, +nothing would serve. And again--he had gone to avenge her. + +It was inevitable that she should hear tidings from the capital. Isaac +Worthington's own town was ringing with it. And as week after week of +that interminable session went by, the conviction slowly grew upon +Brampton that its first citizen had been beaten by Jethro Bass. +Something of Mr. Worthington's affairs was known: the mills, for +instance, were not being run to their full capacity. And then had come +the definite news that Mr. Worthington was beaten, a local representative +having arrived straight from the rotunda. Cynthia overheard Lem +Hallowell telling it to Ephraim, and she could not for the life of her +help rejoicing, though she despised herself for it. Isaac Worthington +was humbled now, and Jethro had humbled him to avenge her. Despite her +grief over his return to that life, there was something to compel her awe +and admiration in the way he had risen and done this thing after men had +fallen from him. Her mother had had something of these same feelings, +without knowing why. + +People who had nothing but praise for him before were saying hard things +about Isaac Worthington that night. When the baron is defeated, the +serfs come out of their holes in the castle rock and fling their curses +across the moat. Cynthia slept but little, and was glad when the day +came to take her to her scholars, to ease her mind of the thoughts which +tortured it. + +And then, when she stopped at the post-office to speak to Ephraim on her +way homeward in the afternoon, she heard men talking behind the +partition, and she stood, as one stricken, listening beside the window. +Other tidings had come in the shape of a telegram. The first rumor had +been false. Brampton had not yet received the details, but the +Consolidation Bill had gone into the House that morning, and would be a +law before the week was out. A part of it was incomprehensible to +Cynthia, but so much she had understood. She did not wait to speak to +Ephraim, and she was going out again when a man rushed past her and +through the partition door. Cynthia paused instinctively, for she +recognized him as one of the frequenters of the station and a bearer of +news. + +"Jethro's come home, boys," he shouted; "come in on the four o'clock, and +went right off to Coniston. Guess he's done for, this time, for certain. +Looks it. By Godfrey, he looks eighty! Callate his day's over, from the +way the boys talked on the train." + +Cynthia lingered to hear no more, and went out, dazed, into the September +sunshine: Jethro beaten, and broken, and gone to Coniston. Resolution +came to her as she walked. Arriving home, she wrote a little note and +left it on the table for Ephraim; and going out again, ran by the back +lane to Mr. Sherman's livery stable behind the Brampton House, and in +half an hour was driving along that familiar road to Coniston, alone; for +she had often driven Jethro's horses, and knew every turn of the way. +And as she gazed at the purple mountain through the haze and drank in the +sweet scents of the year's fulness, she was strangely happy. There was +the village green in the cool evening light, and the flagstaff with its +tip silvered by the departing sun. She waved to Rias and Lem and Moses +at the store, but she drove on to the tannery house, and hitched the +horse at the rough granite post, and went in, and through the house, +softly, to the kitchen. + +Jethro was standing in the doorway, and did not turn. He may have +thought she was Millicent Skinner. Cynthia could see his face. It was +older, indeed, and lined and worn, but that fearful look of desolation +which she had once surprised upon it, and which she in that instant +feared to see, was not there. Jethro's soul was at peace, though Cynthia +could not understand why it was so. She stole to him and flung her arms +about his neck, and with a cry he seized her and held her against him for +I know not how long. Had it been possible to have held her there always, +he would never have let her go. At last he looked down into her tear-wet +face, into her eyes that were shining with tears. + +"D-done wrong, Cynthy." + +Cynthia did not answer that, for she remembered how she, too, had exulted +when she had believed him to have accomplished Isaac Worthington's +downfall. Now that he had failed, and she was in his arms, it was not +for her to judge--only to rejoice. + +"Didn't look for you to come back--didn't expect it." + +"Uncle Jethro!" she faltered. Love for her had made him go, and she +would not say that, either. + +"D-don't hate me, Cynthy--don't hate me?" + +She shook her head. + +"Love me--a little?" + +She reached up her hands and brushed back his hair, tenderly, from his +forehead. Such--a loving gesture was her answer. + +"You are going to stay here always, now," she said, in a low voice, "you +are never going away again." + +"G-goin' to stay always," he answered. Perhaps he was thinking of the +hillside clearing in the forest--who knows! "You'll come-sometime, +Cynthy--sometime?" + +"I'll come every Saturday and Sunday, Uncle Jethro," she said, smiling up +at him. "Saturday is only two days away, now. I can hardly wait." + +"Y-you'll come sometime?" + +"Uncle Jethro, do you think I'll be away from you, except--except when I +have to?" + +"C-come and read to me--won't you--come and read?" + +"Of course I will!" + +"C-call to mind the first book you read to me, Cynthy?" + +"It was 'Robinson Crusoe,'" she said. + +"'R-Robinson Crusoe.' Often thought of that book. Know some of it by +heart. R-read it again, sometime, Cynthy?" + +She looked up at him a little anxiously. His eyes were on the great hill +opposite, across Coniston Water. + +"I will, indeed, Uncle Jethro, if we can find it," she answered. + +"Guess I can find it," said Jethro. "R-remember when you saw him makin' +a ship?" + +"Yes," said Cynthia," and I had my feet in the pool." + +The book had made a profound impression upon Jethro, partly because +Cynthia had first read it to him, and partly for another reason. The +isolation of Crusoe; depicted by Defoe's genius, had been comparable to +his own isolation, and he had pondered upon it much of late. Yes, and +upon a certain part of another book which he had read earlier in life: +Napoleon had ended his days on St. Helena. + +They walked out under the trees to the brook-side and stood listening to +the tinkling of the cowbells in the wood lot beyond. The light faded +early on these September evenings, and the smoky mist had begun to rise +from the water when they turned back again. The kitchen windows were +already growing yellow, and through them the faithful Millicent could be +seen bustling about in her preparations for supper. But Cynthia, having +accomplished her errand, would not go in. She could not have borne to +have any one drive back with her to Brampton then, and she must not be +late upon the road. + +"I will come Friday evening, Uncle Jethro," she said, as she kissed him +and gave one last, lingering look at his face. Had it been possible, she +would not have left him, and on her way to Brampton through the gathering +darkness she mused anxiously upon that strange calmness be had shown +after defeat. + +She drove her horse on to the floor of Mr. Sherman's stable, that +gentleman himself gallantly assisting her to alight, and walked homeward +through the lane. Ephraim had not yet returned from the postoffice, +which did not close until eight, and Cynthia smiled when she saw the +utensils of his cooking-kit strewn on the hearth. In her absence he +invariably unpacked and used it, and of course Cynthia at once set +herself to cleaning and packing it again. After that she got her own +supper--a very simple affair--and was putting the sitting room to rights +when Ephraim came thumping in. + +"Well, I swan!" he exclaimed when he saw her. "I didn't look for you to +come back so soon, Cynthy. Put up the kit--hev you?" He stood in front +of the fireplace staring with apparent interest at the place where the +kit had been, and added in a voice which he strove to make quite casual, +"How be Jethro?" + +"He looks older, Cousin Eph," she answered, after a pause, "and I think +he is very tired. But he seems he seems more tranquil and contented than +I hoped to find him." + +"I want to know," said Ephraim. "I am glad to hear it. Glad you went +up, Cynthy--you done right to go. + +"I'd have gone with you, if you'd only told me. I'll git a chance to go +up Sunday." + +There was an air of repressed excitement about the veteran which did not +escape Cynthia. He held two letters in his hand, and, being a +postmaster, he knew the handwriting on both. One had come from that +place in New Jersey, and drew no comment. But the other! That one had +been postmarked at the capital, and as he had sat at his counter at the +post-office waiting for closing time he bad turned it over and over with +many ejaculations and futile guesses. Past master of dissimulation that +he was, he had made up his mind--if he should find Cynthia at home--to +lay the letters indifferently on the table and walk into his bedroom. +This campaign he now proceeded to carry out. + +Cynthia smiled again when he was gone, and shook her head and picked up +the letters: Bob's was uppermost and she read that first, without a +thought of the other one. And she smiled as she read for Bob had had a +promotion. He was not yet at the head of the locomotive works, he +hastened to add, for fear that Cynthia might think that Mr. Broke had +resigned the presidency in his favor; and Cynthia never failed to laugh +at these little facetious asides. He was now earning the princely sum of +ninety dollars a month--not enough to marry on, alas! On Saturday nights +he and Percy Broke scrubbed as much as possible of the grime from their +hands and faces and went to spend Sunday at Elberon, the Broke place on +the Hudson; from whence Miss Sally Broke, if she happened to be at home, +always sent Cynthia her love. As Cynthia is still a heroine, I shall not +describe how she felt about Sally Broke's love. There was plenty of +Bob's own in the letter. Cynthia would got have blamed him if he bad +fallen in love with Miss Broke. It seemed to her little short of +miraculous that, amidst such surroundings, he could be true to her. + +After a period which was no briefer than that usually occupied by Bob's +letters, Cynthia took the other one from her lap, and stared at it in +much perplexity before she tore it open. We have seen its contents over +Mr. Worthington's shoulder, and our hearts will not stop beating--as +Cynthia's did. She read it twice before the full meaning of it came to +her, and after that she could not well mistake it,--the language being so +admirable in every way. She sat very still for a long while, and +presently she heard Ephraim go out. But Cynthia did not move. Mr. +Worthington relented and Bob recalled! The vista of happiness suddenly +opened up, widened and widened until it was too bright for Cynthia's +vision, and she would compel her mind to dwell on another prospect,--that +of the father and son reconciled. Although her temples throbbed, she +tried to analyze the letter. It implied that Mr. Worthington had allowed +Bob to remain away on a sort of probation; it implied that it had been +dictated by a strong paternal love mingled with a strong paternal +justice. And then there was the appeal to her: "You will look with +indulgence upon any acts of mine which sprang from a natural solicitation +for the welfare and happiness of my only child." A terrible insight is +theirs to whom it is given to love as Cynthia loved. + +Suddenly there came a knock which frightened her, for her mind was +running on swiftly from point to point: had, indeed, flown as far as +Coniston by now, and she was thinking of that strange look of peace on +Jethro's face which had troubled her. One letter she thrust into her +dress, but the other she laid aside, and her knees trembled under her as +she rose and went into the entry and raised the latch and opened the +door. There was a moon, and the figure in the frock coat and the silk +hat was the one which she expected to see. The silk hat came off very +promptly. + +"I hope I am not disturbing you, Miss Wetherell," said the owner of it. + +"No," answered Cynthia, faintly. + +"May I come in?" + +Cynthia held open the door a little wider, and Mr. Worthington walked in. +He seemed very majestic and out of place in the little house which +Gabriel Post had built, and he carried into it some of the atmosphere of +the walnut and high ceilings of his own mansion. His manner of laying +his hat, bottom up, on the table, and of unbuttoning his coat, subtly +indicated the honor which he was conferring upon the place. And he eyed +Cynthia, standing before him in the lamplight, with a modification of the +hawk-like look which was meant to be at once condescending and +conciliatory. He did not imprint a kiss upon her brow, as some +prospective fathers-in-law would have done. But his eyes, perhaps +involuntarily, paid a tribute to her personal appearance which heightened +her color. She might not, after all, be such a discredit to the +Worthington family. + +"Won't you sit down?" she asked. + +"Thank you, Cynthia," he said; "I hope I may now be allowed to call you +Cynthia?" + +She did not answer him, but sat down herself, and he followed her +example; with his eyes still upon her. + +"You have doubtless received my letter," began Mr. Worthington. "I only +arrived in Brampton an hour ago, but I thought it best to come to you at +once, under the circumstances." + +"Yes," replied Cynthia, "I received the letter." + +"I am glad," said Mr. Worthington. He was beginning to be a little taken +aback by her calmness and her apparent absence of joy. It was scarcely +the way in which a school-teacher should receive the advances of the +first citizen, come to give a gracious consent to her marriage with his +son. Had he known it, Cynthia was anything but calm. "I am glad," he +said, "because I took pains to explain the exact situation in that +letter, and to set forth my own sentiments. I hope you understood them." + +"Yes, I understood them," said Cynthia, in a low tone. + +This was enigmatical, to say the least. But Mr. Worthington had come +with such praiseworthy intentions that he was disposed to believe that +the girl was overwhelmed by the good fortune which had suddenly overtaken +her. He was therefore disposed to be a little conciliatory. + +"My conduct may have appeared harsh to you," he continued. "I will not +deny that I opposed the matter at first. Robert was still in college, +and he has a generous, impressionable nature which he inherits from his +poor mother--the kind of nature likely to commit a rash act which would +ruin his career. I have since become convinced that he has--ahem-- +inherited likewise a determination of purpose and an ability to get on in +the world which I confess I had underestimated. My friend, Mr. Broke, +has written me a letter about him, and tells me that he has already +promoted him." + +"Yes," said Cynthia. + +"You hear from him?" inquired Mr. Worthington, giving her a quick glance. + +"Yes," said Cynthia, her color rising a little. + +"And yet," said Mr. Worthington, slowly, "I have been under the +impression that you have persistently refused to marry him." + +"That is true," she answered. + +"I cannot refrain from complimenting you, Cynthia, upon such rare +conduct," said he. "You will be glad to know that it has contributed +more than anything else toward my estimation of your character, and has +strengthened me in my resolution that I am now doing right. It may be +difficult for you to understand a father's feelings. The complete +separation from my only son was telling on me severely, and I could not +forget that you were the cause of that separation. I knew nothing about +you, except--" He hesitated, for she had turned to him. + +"Except what?" she asked. + +Mr. Worthington coughed. Mr. Flint had told him, that very morning, of +her separation from Jethro, and of the reasons which people believed had +caused it. Unfortunately, we have not time to go into that conversation +with Mr. Flint, who had given a very good account of Cynthia indeed. +After all (Mr. Worthington reflected), he had consented to the marriage, +and there was no use in bringing Jethro's name into the conversation. +Jethro would be forgotten soon. + +"I will not deny to You that I had other plans for my son," he said. +"I had hoped that he would marry a daughter of a friend of mine. You must +be a little indulgent with parents, Cynthia," he added with a little +smile, "we have our castles in the air, too. Sometimes, as in this case, +by a wise provision of providence they go astray. I suppose you have +heard of Miss Duncan's marriage." + +"No," said Cynthia. + +"She ran off with a worthless Italian nobleman. I believe, on the +whole," he said, with what was an extreme complaisance for the first +citizen, "that I have reason to congratulate myself upon Robert's choice. +I have made inquiries about you, and I find that I have had the pleasure +of knowing your mother, whom I respected very much. And your father, I +understand, came of very good people, and was forced by circumstances to +adopt the means of livelihood he did. My attention has been called to +the letters he wrote to the Guardian, which I hear have been highly +praised by competent critics, and I have ordered a set of them for the +files of the library. You yourself, I find, are highly thought of in +Brampton" (a, not unimportant factor, by the way); "you have been +splendidly educated, and are a lady. In short, Cynthia, I have come to +give my formal consent to your engagement to my son Robert." + +"But I am not engaged to him," said Cynthia. + +"He will be here shortly, I imagine," said Mr. Worthington. + +Cynthia was trembling more than ever by this time. She was very angry, +and she had found it very difficult to repress the things which she had +been impelled to speak. She did not hate Isaac Worthington now--she +despised him. He had not dared to mention Jethro, who had been her +benefactor, though he had done his best to have her removed from the +school because of her connection with Jethro. + +"Mr. Worthington," she said, "I have not yet made up my mind whether I +shall marry your son." + +To say that Mr. Worthington's breath was taken away when he heard these +words would be to use a mild expression. He doubted his senses. + +"What?" he exclaimed, starting forward, "what do you mean?" + +Cynthia hesitated a moment. She was not frightened, but she was trying +to choose her words without passion. + +"I refused to marry him," she said, "because you withheld your consent, +and I did not wish to be the cause of a quarrel between you. It was not +difficult to guess your feelings toward me, even before certain things +occurred of which I will not speak. I did my best, from the very first, +to make Bob give up the thought of marrying me, although I loved and +honored him. Loving him as I do, I do not want to be the cause of +separating him from his father, and of depriving him of that which is +rightfully his. But something was due to myself. If I should ever make +up my mind to marry him," continued Cynthia, looking at Mr. Worthington +steadfastly, "it will not be because your consent is given or withheld." + +"Do you tell me this to my face?" exclaimed Mr. Worthington, now in a +rage himself at such unheard-of presumption. + +"To your face," said Cynthia, who got more self-controlled as he grew +angry. "I believe that that consent, which you say you have given +freely, was wrung from you." + +It was unfortunate that the first citizen might not always have Mr. Flint +by him to restrain and caution him. But Mr. Flint could have no command +over his master's sensations, and anger and apprehension goaded Mr. +Worthington to indiscretion. + +"Jethro Bass told you this!" he cried out. + +"No," Cynthia answered, not in the least surprised by the admission, +"he did not tell me--but he will if I ask him. I guessed it from your +letter. I heard that he had come back to-day, and I went to Coniston to +see him, and he told me--he had been defeated." + +Tears came into her eyes at the remembrance of the scene in the tannery +house that afternoon, and she knew now why Jethro's face had worn that +look of peace. He had made his supreme sacrifice--for her. No, he had +told her nothing, and she might never have known. She sat thinking of +the magnitude of this thing Jethro had done, and she ceased to speak, and +the tears coursed down her cheeks unheeded. + +Isaac Worthington had a habit of clutching things when he was in a rage, +and now he clutched the arms of the chair. He had grown white. He was +furious with her, furious with himself for having spoken that which might +be construed into a confession. He had not finished writing the letters +before he had stood self-justified, and he had been self-justified ever +since. Where now were these arguments so wonderfully plausible? Where +were the refutations which he had made ready in case of a barely possible +need? He had gone into the Pelican House intending to tell Jethro of his +determination to agree to the marriage. That was one. He had done so-- +that was another--and he had written the letters that Jethro might be +convinced of his good will. There were still more, involving Jethro's +character for veracity and other things. Summoning these, he waited for +Cynthia to have done speaking, but when she had finished--he said nothing. +He looked a her, and saw the tears on her face, and he saw that she had +completely forgotten his presence. + +For the life of him, Isaac Worthington could not utter a word. He was a +man, as we know, who did not talk idly, and he knew that Cynthia would +not hear what he said; and arguments and denunciations lose their effect +when repeated. Again, he knew that she would not believe him. Never in +his life had Isaac Worthington been so ignored, so put to shame, as by +this school-teacher of Brampton. Before, self-esteem and sophistry had +always carried him off between them; sometimes, in truth, with a wound-- +the wound had always healed. But he had a feeling, to-night, that this +woman had glanced into his soul, and had turned away from it. As he +looked at her the texture of his anger changed; he forgot for the first +time that which he had been pleased to think of as her position in life, +and he feared her. He had matched his spirit against hers. + +Before long the situation became intolerable to him, for Cynthia still +sat silent. She was thinking of how she had blamed Jethro for going back +to that life, even though his love for her had made him do it. But Isaac +Worthington did not know of what she was thinking--he thought only of +himself and his predicament. He could not remain, and yet he could not +go--with dignity. He who had come to bestow could not depart like a +whipped dog. + +Suddenly a fear transfixed him: suppose that this woman, from whom he +could not hide the truth, should tell his son what he had done. Bob +would believe her. Could he, Isaac Worthington, humble his pride and ask +her to keep her suspicions to herself? He would then be acknowledging +that they were more than suspicions. If he did so, he would have to +appear to forgive her in spite of what she had said to him. And Bob was +coming home. Could he tell Bob that he had changed his mind and +withdrawn his consent to the marriage? There world be the reason, and +again Bob would believe her. And again, if he withdrew his consent, +there was Jethro to reckon with. Jethro must have a weapon still, Mr. +Worthington thought, although he could not imagine what it might be. As +Isaac Worthington sat there, thinking, it grew clear, to him at last that +there was but one exit out of a, very desperate situation. + +He glanced at Cynthia again, this time appraisingly. She had dried her +eyes, but she made no effort to speak. After all, she would make such a +wife for his son as few men possessed. He thought of Sarah Hollingsworth. +She had been a good woman, but there had been many times when he had +deplored--especially in his travels the lack of other qualities in his +wife. Cynthia, he thought, had these qualities,--so necessary for the +wife of one who would succeed to power--though whence she had got them +Isaac Worthington could not imagine. She would become a personage; she +was a woman of whom they had no need to be ashamed at home or abroad. +Having completed these reflections, he broke the silence. + +"I am sorry that you should have been misled into thinking such a thing +as you have expressed, Cynthia," he said, "but I believe that I can +understand something of the feelings which prompted you. It is natural +that you should have a resentment against me after everything that has +happened. It is perhaps natural, too, that I should lose my temper under +the circumstances. Let us forget it. And I trust that in the future we +shall grow into the mutual respect and affection which our nearer +relationship will demand." + +He rose, and took up his hat, and Cynthia rose too. There was something +very fine, he thought, about her carriage and expression as she stood in +front of him. + +"There is my hand," he said,--"will you take it?" + +"I will take it," Cynthia answered, "because you are Bob's father." + +And then Mr. Worthington went away. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +I am able to cite one notable instance, at least, to disprove the saying +a part of which is written above, and I have yet to hear of a case in +which a gentleman ever hesitated a single instant on account of the first +letter of a lady's last name. I know, indeed, of an occasion when +locomotives could not go fast enough, when thirty miles an hour seemed a +snail's pace to a young main who sat by the open window of a train that +crept northward on a certain hazy September morning up the beautiful +valley of a broad river which we know. + +It was after three o'clock before he caught sight of the familiar crest +of Farewell Mountain, and the train ran into Harwich. How glad he was to +see everybody there, whether he knew them or not! He came near hugging +the conductor of the Truro accommodation; who, needless to say, did not +ask him for a ticket, or even a pass. And then the young man went +forward and almost shook the arms off of the engineer and the fireman, +and climbed into the cab, and actually drove the engine himself as far as +Brampton, where it arrived somewhat ahead of schedule, having taken some +of the curves and bridges at a speed a little beyond the law. The +engineer was richer by five dollars, and the son of a railroad president +is a privileged character, anyway. + +Yes, here was Brampton, and in spite of the haze the sun had never shone +so brightly on the terraced steeple of the meeting-house. He leaped out +of the cab almost before the engine had stopped, and beamed upon +everybody on the platform,--even upon Mr. Dodd, who chanced to be there. +In a twinkling the young man is in Mr. Sherman's hack, and Mr. Sherman +galloping his horse down Brampton Street, the young man with his head out +of the window, smiling; grinning would be a better word. Here are the +iron mastiffs, and they seem to be grinning, too. The young man flings +open the carriage door and leaps out, and the door is almost broken from +its hinges by the maple tree. He rushes up the steps and through the +hall, and into the library, where the first citizen and his seneschal are +sitting. + +"Hello, Father, you see I didn't waste any time," he cried; grasping his +father's hand in a grip that made Mr. Worthington wince. "Well, you are +a trump, after all. We're both a little hot-headed, I guess, and do +things we're sorry for,--but that's all over now, isn't it? I'm sorry. +I might have known you'd come round when you found out for yourself what +kind of a girl Cynthia was. Did you ever see anybody like her?" + +Mr. Flint turned his back, and started to walk out of the room. + +"Don't go, Flint, old boy," Bob called out, seizing Mr. Flint's hand, +too. "I can't stay but a minute, now. How are you?" + +"All right, Bob," answered Mr. Flint, with a curious, kindly look in his +eyes that was not often there. "I'm glad to see you home. I have to go +to the bank." + +"Well, Father," said Bob, "school must be out, and I imagine you know +where I'm going. I just thought I'd stop in to--to thank you, and get a +benediction." + +I am very happy to have you back, Robert," replied Mr. Worthington, and +it was true. It would have been strange indeed if some tremor of +sentiment had not been in his voice and some gleam of pride in his eye as +he looked upon his son. + +"So you saw her, and couldn't resist her," said Bob. "Wasn't that how it +happened?" + +Mr. Worthington sat down again at the desk, and his hand began to stray +among the papers. He was thinking of Mr. Flint's exit. + +"I do not arrive at my decisions quite in that way, Robert," he answered. + +"But you have seen her?" + +"Yes, I have seen her." + +There was a hesitation, an uneasiness in his father's tone for which Bob +could not account, and which he attributed to emotion. He did not guess +that this hour of supreme joy could hold for Isaac Worthington another +sensation. + +"Isn't she the finest girl in the world?" he demanded. "How does she +seem? How does she look?" + +"She looks extremely well," said Mr. Worthington, who had now schooled +his voice. "In fact, I am quite ready to admit that Cynthia Wetherell +possesses the qualifications necessary for your wife. If she had not, +I should never have written you." + +Bob walked to the window. + +"Father;" he said, speaking with a little difficulty, "I can't tell you +how much I appreciate your--your coming round. I wanted to do the right +thing, but I just couldn't give up such a girl as that." + +"We shall let bygones be bygones, Robert," answered Mr. Worthington, +clearing his throat. + +"She never would have me without your consent. By the way," he cried, +turning suddenly, "did she say she'd have me now?" + +"I believe," said Mr. Worthington, clearing his throat again, "I believe +she reserved her decision." + +"I must be off," said Bob, "she goes to Coniston on Fridays. I'll drive +her out. Good-by, Father." + +He flew out of the room, ran into Mrs. Holden, whom he astonished by +saluting on the cheek, and astonished even more by asking her to tell +Silas to drive his black horses to Gabriel Post's house--as the cottage +was still known in Brampton. And having hastily removed some of the +cinders, he flew out of the door and reached the park-like space in the +middle of Brampton Street. Then he tried to walk decorously, but it was +hard work. What if she should not be in? + +The door and windows of the little house were open that balmy afternoon, +and the bees were buzzing among the flowers which Cynthia had planted on +either side of the step. Bob went up the path, and caught a glimpse of +her through the entry standing in the sitting room. She was, indeed, +waiting for the Coniston stage, and she did not see him. Shall I destroy +the mental image of the reader who has known her so long by trying to +tell what she looked like? Some heroines grow thin and worn by the +troubles which they are forced to go through. Cynthia was not this kind +of a heroine. She was neither tall nor short, and the dark blue gown +which she wore set off (so Bob thought) the curves of her figure to +perfection. Her face had become a little more grave--yes, and more +noble; and the eyes and mouth had an indescribable, womanly sweetness. + +He stood for a moment outside the doorway gazing at her; hesitating to +desecrate that revery, which seemed to him to have a touch of sadness in +it. And then she turned her head, slowly, and saw him, and her lips +parted, and a startled look came into her eyes, but she did not move. He +came quickly into the room and stopped again, quivering from head to foot +with the passion which the sight of her never failed to unloose within +him. Still she did not speak, but her lip trembled, and the love leaping +in his eyes kindled a yearning in hers,--a yearning she was powerless to +resist. He may by that strange power have drawn her toward him--he never +knew. Neither of them could have given evidence on that marvellous +instant when the current bridged the space between them. He could not +say whether this woman whom he had seized by force before had shown alike +vitality in her surrender. He only knew that her arms were woven about +his neck, and that the kiss of which he had dreamed was again on his +lips, and that he felt once more her wonderful, supple body pressed +against his, and her heart beating, and her breast heaving. And he knew +that the strength of the love in her which he had gained was beyond +estimation. + +Thus for a time they swung together in ethereal space, breathless with +the motion of their flight. The duration of such moments is--in words-- +limitless. Now he held her against him, and again he held her away that +his eyes might feast upon hers until she dropped her lashes and the +crimson tide flooded into her face and she hid it again in the refuge she +had longed for,--murmuring his name. But at last, startled by some sound +without and so brought back to earth, she led him gently to the window at +the side and looked up at him searchingly. He was tanned no longer. + +"I was afraid you had been working too hard," she said. + +"So you do love me?" was Bob's answer to this remark. + +Cynthia smiled at him with her eyes: gravely, if such a thing may be said +of a smile. + +"Bob, how can you ask?" + +"Oh, Cynthia," he cried, "if you knew what I have been through, you +wouldn't have held out, I know it. I began to think I should never have +you." + +"But you have me now," she said, and was silent. + +"Why do you look like that?" he asked. + +She smiled up at him again. + +"I, too, have suffered, Bob," she said. "And I have thought of you night +and day." + +"God bless you, sweetheart," he cried, and kissed her again,--many times. +"It's all right now, isn't it? I knew my father would give his consent +when he found out what you were." + +The expression of pain which had troubled him crossed her face again, and +she put her hand on his shoulder. + +"Listen, dearest," she said, "I love you. I am doing this for you. You +must understand that." + +"Why, yes, Cynthia, I understand it--of course I do," he answered, +perplexed. "I understand it, but I don't deserve it." + +"I want you to know," she continued in a low voice, "that I should have +married you anyway. I--I could not have helped it." + +"Cynthia!" + +"If you were to go back to the locomotive works' tomorrow, I would marry +you." + +"On ninety dollars a month?" exclaimed Bob. + +"If you wanted me," she said. + +"Wanted you! I could live in a log cabin with you the rest of my life." + +She drew down his face to hers, and kissed him. + +"But I wished you to be reconciled with your father," she said; "I could +not bear to come between you. You--you are reconciled, aren't you?" + +"Indeed, we are," he said. + +"I am glad, Bob," she answered simply. "I should not have been happy if +I had driven you away from the place where you should be, which is your +home." + +"Wherever you are will be my home; sweetheart," he said, and pressed her +to him once more. + +At length, looking past his shoulder into the street, she saw Lem +Hallowell pulling up the Brampton stage before the door. + +"Bob," she said, "I must go to Coniston and see Uncle Jethro. I promised +him." + +Bob's answer was to walk into the entry, where he stood waving the most +joyous of greetings at the surprised stage driver. + +"I guess you won't get anybody here, Lem," he called out. + +"But, Bob," protested Cynthia, from within, afraid to show her face just +then, "I have to go, I promised. And--and I want to go," she added when +he turned. + +"I'm running a stage to Coniston to-day myself, Lem," said he "and I'm +going to steal your best passenger." + +Lemuel immediately flung down his reins and jumped out of the stage and +came up the path and into the entry, where he stood confronting Cynthia. + +"Hev you took him, Cynthy?" he demanded. + +"Yes, Lem," she answered, "won't you congratulate me?" + +The warm-hearted stage driver did congratulate her in a most unmistakable +manner. + +"I think a sight of her, Bob," he said after he had shaken both of Bob's +hands and brushed his own eyes with his coat sleeve. "I've knowed her so +long--" Whereupon utterance failed him, and he ran down the path and +jumped into his stage again and drove off. + +And then Cynthia sent Bob on an errand--not a very long one, and while he +was gone, she sat down at the table and tried to realize her happiness, +and failed. In less than ten minutes Bob had come back with Cousin +Ephraim, as fast as he could hobble. He flung his arms around her, stick +and all, and he was crying. It is a fact that old soldiers sometimes +cry. But his tears did not choke his utterance. + +"Great Tecumseh!" said Cousin Ephraim, "so you've went and done it, +Cynthy. Siege got a little mite too hot. I callated she'd capitulate in +the end, but she held out uncommon long." + +"That she did," exclaimed Bob, feelingly. + +"I--I was tellin' Bob I hain't got nothin' against him," continued +Ephraim. + +"Oh, Cousin Eph," said Cynthia, laughing in spite of herself, and +glancing at Bob, "is that all you can say?" + +"Cousin Eph's all right," said Bob, laughing too. "We understand each +other." + +"Callate we do," answered Ephraim. "I'll go so far as to say there +hain't nobody I'd ruther see you marry. Guess I'll hev to go back to the +kit, now. What's to become of the old pensioner, Cynthy?" + +"The old pensioner needn't worry," said Cynthia. + +Then drove up Silas the Silent, with Bob's buggy and his black trotters. +All of Brampton might see them now; and all of Brampton did see them. +Silas got out,--his presence not being required,--and Cynthia was helped +in, and Bob got in beside her, and away they went, leaving Ephraim waving +his stick after them from the doorstep. + +It is recorded against the black trotters that they made very poor time +to Coniston that day, though I cannot discover that either of them was +lame. Lem Hallowell, who was there nearly an hour ahead of them, +declares that the off horse had a bunch of branches in his mouth. +Perhaps Bob held them in on account of the scenery that September +afternoon. Incomparable scenery! I doubt if two lovers of the +renaissance ever wandered through a more wondrous realm of pleasance-- +to quote the words of the poet. Spots in it are like a park, laid out by +that peerless landscape gardener, nature: dark, symmetrical pine trees on +the sward, and maples in the fulness of their leaf, and great oaks on the +hillsides, and, coppices; and beyond, the mountain, the evergreens massed +like cloud-shadows on its slopes; and all-trees and coppice and mountain +--flattened by the haze until they seemed woven in the softest of blues +and blue greens into one exquisite picture of an ancient tapestry. +I, myself, have seen these pictures in that country, and marvelled. + +So they drove on through that realm, which was to be their realm, and +came all too soon to Coniston green. Lem Hallowell had spread the well- +nigh incredible news, that Cynthia Wetherell was to marry the son of the +mill-owner and railroad president of Brampton, and it seemed to Cynthia +that every man and woman and child of the village was gathered at the +store. Although she loved them, every one, she whispered something to +Bob when she caught sight of that group on the platform, and he spoke to +the trotters. Thus it happened that they flew by, and were at the +tannery house before they knew it; and Cynthia, all unaided, sprang out +of the buggy and ran in, alone. She found Jethro sitting outside of the +kitchen door with a volume on his knee, and she saw that the print of it +was large, and she knew that the book was "Robinson Crusoe." + +Cynthia knelt down on the grass beside him and caught his hands in hers. + +"Uncle Jethro," she said, "I am going to marry Bob Worthington." + +"Yes, Cynthy," he answered. And taking the initiative for the first time +in his life, he stooped down and kissed her. + +"I knew--you would be happy--in my happiness," she said, the tears +brimming in her eyes. + +"N-never have been so happy, Cynthy,--never have." + +"Uncle Jethro, I never will desert you. I shall always take care of +you." + +"R-read to me sometimes, Cynthy--r-read to me?" + +But she could not answer him. She was sobbing on the pages of that book +he had given her--long ago. + +I like to dwell on happiness, and I am reluctant to leave these people +whom I have grown to love. Jethro Bass lived to take Cynthia's children +down by the brook and to show them the pictures, at least, in that +wonderful edition of "Robinson Crusoe." He would never depart from the +tannery house, but Cynthia went to him there, many times a week. There +is a spot not far from the Coniston road, and five miles distant alike +from Brampton and Coniston, where Bob Worthington built his house, and +where he and Cynthia dwelt many years; and they go there to this day, in +the summer-time. It stands in the midst of broad lands, and the ground +in front of it slopes down to Coniston Water, artificially widened here +by a stone dam into a little lake. From the balcony of the summer-house +which overhangs the lake there is a wonderful view of Coniston Mountain, +and Cynthia Worthington often sits there with her sewing or her book, +listening to the laughter of her children, and thinking, sometimes, of +bygone days. + + + + +AFTERWORD + +The reality of the foregoing pages has to the author, at least, become so +vivid that he regrets the necessity of having to add an afterword. Every +novel is, to some extent, a compound of truth and fiction, and he has +done his best to picture conditions as they were, and to make the spirit +of his book true. Certain people who were living in St. Louis during the +Civil War have been mentioned as the originals of characters in "The +Crisis," and there are houses in that city which have been pointed out as +fitting descriptions in that novel. An author has, frequently, people, +houses, and localities in mind when he writes; but he changes them, +sometimes very materially, in the process of literary construction. + +It is inevitable, perhaps, that many people of a certain New England +state will recognize Jethro Bass. There are different opinions extant +concerning the remarkable original of this character; ardent defenders +and detractors of his are still living, but all agree that he was a +strange man of great power. The author disclaims any intention of +writing a biography of him. Some of the things set down in this book he +did, and others he did not do. Some of the anecdotes here related +concerning him are, in the main, true, and for this material the author +acknowledges his indebtedness particularly to Colonel Thomas B. Cheney +of Ashland, New Hampshire, and to other friends who have helped him. +Jethro Bass was typical of his Era, and it is of the Era that this book +attempts to treat. + +Concerning the locality where Jethro Bass was born and lived, it will and +will not be recognized. It would have been the extreme of bad taste to +have put into these pages any portraits which might have offended +families or individuals, and in order that it may be known that the +author has not done so he has written this Afterword. Nor has he +particularly chosen for the field of this novel a state of which he is a +citizen, and for which he has a sincere affection. The conditions here +depicted, while retaining the characteristics of the locality, he +believes to be typical of the Era over a large part of the United States. + +Many of the Puritans who came to New England were impelled to emigrate +from the old country, no doubt, by an aversion to pulling the forelock as +well as by religious principles, and the spirit of these men prevailed +for a certain time after the Revolution was fought. Such men lived and +ruled in Coniston before the rise of Jethro Bass. + +Self-examination is necessary for the moral health of nations as well as +men, and it is the most hopeful of signs that in the United States we are +to-day going through a period of self-examination. + +We shall do well to ascertain the causes which have led us gradually to +stray from the political principles laid down by our forefathers for all +the world to see. Some of us do not even know what those principles +were. I have met many intelligent men, in different states of the Union, +who could not even repeat the names of the senators who sat for them in +Congress. Macaulay said, in 1852, "We now know, by the clearest of all +proof, that universal suffrage, even united with secret voting, is no +security, against the establishment of arbitrary power." To quote James +Russell Lowell, writing a little later: "We have begun obscurely to +recognize that . . . popular government is not in itself a panacea, is no +better than any other form except as the virtue and wisdom of the people +make it so." + +As Americans, we cannot but believe that our political creed goes down in +its foundations to the solid rock of truth. One of the best reasons for +our belief lies in the fact that, since 1776, government after government +has imitated our example. We have, by our very existence and rise to +power, made any decided retrogression from these doctrines impossible. +So many people have tried to rule themselves, and are still trying, that +one begins to believe that the time is not far distant when the United +States, once the most radical, will become the most conservative of +nations. + +Thus the duty rests to-day, more heavily than ever, upon each American +citizen to make good to the world those principles upon which his +government was built. To use a figure suggested by the calamity which +has lately befallen one of the most beloved of our cities, there is a +theory that earthquakes are caused by a necessary movement on the part of +the globe to regain its axis. Whether or not the theory be true, it has +its political application. In America to-day we are trying--whatever the +cost--to regain the true axis established for us by the founders of our +Republic. + +HARLAKENDEN HOUSE, May 7, 1906. + + + + +ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: + +But I wanted to be happy as long as I could +Even old people may have an ideal +Every novel is, to some extent, a compound of truth and fiction +Life had made a woman of her long ago +Not that I've anything against her personally-- +Stray from the political principles laid down by our forefathers +The one precious gift of life +Though his heart was breaking, his voice was steady + + + + +End of this Project Gutenberg Etext of Coniston, V4 +by Winston Churchill + diff --git a/old/wc17v11.zip b/old/wc17v11.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ee7e6dd --- /dev/null +++ b/old/wc17v11.zip |