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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a8c8bf2 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #52068 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/52068) diff --git a/old/52068-8.txt b/old/52068-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 3f61fc4..0000000 --- a/old/52068-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2009 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook, Jim of Hellas, or In Durance Vile; The -Troubling of Bethesda Pool, by Laura Elizabeth Howe Richards - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - - -Title: Jim of Hellas, or In Durance Vile; The Troubling of Bethesda Pool - - -Author: Laura Elizabeth Howe Richards - - - -Release Date: May 14, 2016 [eBook #52068] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JIM OF HELLAS, OR IN DURANCE VILE; -THE TROUBLING OF BETHESDA POOL*** - - -E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Martin Pettit, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images -generously made available by Internet Archive/American Libraries -(https://archive.org/details/americana) - - - -Note: Images of the original pages are available through - Internet Archive/American Libraries. See - https://archive.org/details/jimofhellasorind00richiala - - -Transcriber's note: - - Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). - - Text enclosed by plus signs is in bold face (+bold+). - - - - - -JIM OF HELLAS - -THE TROUBLING OF BETHESDA POOL - - - * * * * * * - -_Books by Laura E. Richards._ - -"Mrs. Richards has made for herself a little niche apart in the literary -world, from her delicate treatment of New England village -life."--_Boston Post._ - - -+JIM OF HELLAS; or, IN DURANCE VILE+, and a companion story, +BETHESDA -POOL+. 16mo, 50 cents. - -+MARIE.+ 16mo, 50 cents. - -"Seldom has Mrs. Richards drawn a more irresistible picture, or framed -one with more artistic literary adjustment."--_Boston Herald._ - -"A perfect literary gem."--_Boston Transcript._ - -+NARCISSA+, and a companion story, +IN VERONA+. 16mo, cloth, 50 cents. - -"Each is a simple, touching, sweet little story of rustic New England -life, full of vivid pictures of interesting character, and refreshing -for its unaffected genuineness and human feeling."--_Congregationalist._ - -"They are the most charming stories ever written of American country -life."--_New York World._ - -+MELODY.+ The Story of a Child. 16mo, cloth, 50 cents. - -"Had there never been a 'Captain January,' 'Melody' would easily take -first place."--_Boston Times._ - -"The quaintly pretty, touching, old-fashioned story is told with perfect -grace; the few persons who belong to it are touched in with distinctness -and with sympathy."--_Milwaukee Sentinel._ - -+SAME.+ _Illustrated Holiday Edition._ With thirty half-tone pictures -from drawings by Frank T. Merrill. 4to, cloth, $1.25. - -+CAPTAIN JANUARY.+ 16mo, cloth, 50 cents. - -A charming idyl of New England coast life, whose success has been very -remarkable. One reads it, is thoroughly charmed by it, tells others, and -so its fame has been heralded by its readers, until to-day it is selling -by the thousands, constantly enlarging the circle of its delighted -admirers. - -+SAME.+ _Illustrated Holiday Edition._ With thirty half-tone pictures -from drawings by Frank T. Merrill. 4to, cloth, $1.25. - -+WHEN I WAS YOUR AGE.+ 4to, cloth, gilt top, $1.25. - -The title most happily introduces the reader to the charming home-life -of Dr. Howe and Mrs. Julia Ward Howe during the childhood of the author. - -+GLIMPSES OF THE FRENCH COURT.+ Sketches from French History. -Illustrated with a series of portraits in etching and photogravure. -Square 12mo, cloth, $1.50. - -With true literary touch, she gives us the story of some of the salient -figures of this remarkable period. - -+NAUTILUS.+ A very interesting story, with illustrations; uniquely -bound, small quarto, 75 cents. - -+FIVE MINUTE STORIES.+ A charming collection of short poems and clever -stories for children. - - -_Estes & Lauriat, Publishers, Boston._ - - * * * * * * - - - -JIM OF HELLAS - -Or, In Durance Vile - -BETHESDA POOL - -by - -LAURA E. RICHARDS - -Author of "Captain January," "Melody," "Queen Hildegarde," -"Five-Minute Stories," "When I Was Your Age," -"Narcissa," "Marie," "Nautilus." - -Tenth Thousand - - - - - - - -Boston -Estes and Lauriat -1895 - -Copyright, 1895, -By Estes & Lauriat -All rights reserved - -Typography and Printing by -C. H. Simonds & Co. -Electrotyping by Geo. C. Scott & Sons -Boston, U.S.A. - - - - - TO MY - - Dear Brother, - - HENRY MARION HOWE, - - THIS VOLUME - - IS AFFECTIONATELY - - DEDICATED. - - - - -JIM OF HELLAS. - - - - -Part I. - - -Everyone knows the Island; it is not necessary to name it. With its -rolling downs, its points, its ponds, its light-houses, and above all, -its town,--who does not know the Island? Some day I shall write a story -about the downs, the billowy acres of gold on russet, russet on gold, -wonderful to see,--but this story is about the town. - -The town has its nominal government, like other towns; its selectmen, -and its town-meeting, and other like machinery; but everybody knows that -the real seat of government lies in the Upper House. The meetings of -this republican House of Lords are held in the best room of -"Bannister's," the one inn of the town. It is a pleasant, roomy old -structure, built in the Island fashion, with wide windows and plenty of -them, and with a railed platform on its flat-topped roof, from which, in -former days, the women of the house used to watch for the coming of the -whaling-fleet. - -There is little watching now on the Island. No ships come into that -wonderful harbour, once thronged with sails. The great wharves rot -silently and fall apart; a few old hulks rot quietly beside them. Two or -three fishing-smacks, a coal-schooner or two,--these are all one sees -now from the roof or the windows of Bannister's. - -But the men who sit together in the upper room still look out of the -windows a great deal, because from them they can see the harbour, and -beyond it the sea; and the sea is what they love best to look at, for -the greater part of their lives has been spent on it. Old -sea-captains,--it needs but one glance to tell of what the Upper House -is composed: Men with faces that might have been carved out of mahogany, -wrinkled and seamed and beaten into strange lines by wind and weather; -with gray or white hair, for the most part, and shaggy beards, yet with -keen, bright eyes which are used to looking, and, what is not always the -same thing, to seeing what they look at. - -Though most of them go to sea no more, they keep with care their -sea-going aspect; they wear pea-jackets with huge horn buttons, heavy -sea-boots, and never fail to don their sou'westers in bad weather. The -room in which they sit is well suited to them. On the broad window-seats -lie spy-glasses and telescopes of all kinds. The walls are hung with -sea-trophies. - -Here is a piece of plank transfixed by the sharp blade of a sword-fish; -there, a pair of walrus-tusks; there, again, the beautiful horn of the -narwhal, like a wonderful lance of ivory, fit weapon for King Olaf or -Eric the Red. In the doorway stands a whale's jaw, a great arch ten feet -high, under which all must pass with thoughts of Jonah. As for corals -and shells, there is no end to them, for the upper room is a museum as -well as a place of convention, and here the captains love to bring their -choicest treasures, keeping only the second-best to adorn the -chimney-piece of the home-parlour. - -In a great arm-chair, facing a seaward window, sits the patriarch of the -Upper House, old Abram Bannister. His grandfather had built the inn -itself, his grandsons now keep it. Every morning, winter and summer, -Jake and Bill "hist" the old captain out of bed, put him in his chair, -and wheel him into the great room; then they give him a spy-glass to -hold in his hand, and leave him till dinner-time. The captains begin to -straggle in about eight o'clock, when their morning chores are done. -They greet the white old man with never-failing cordiality; he is the -pride of the Upper House. They are never tired of asking him how old he -is, nor of hearing him reply in his feeble, cheery pipe,-- - -"Ninety-nine year, and risin' a hundred." - -He sleeps a good deal of the day, and, on waking, never fails to cry -out, "Thar' she blows!" - -Whereupon, one of the captains promptly replies, "Where away?" and the -patriarch says,-- - -"Weather bow!" and straightway forgets all about it, and plays with his -spy-glass. - -When the captains are assembled in sufficient number, they discuss the -affairs of the town, talk over this or that question, and decide what -the "_se_-leckmen" ought to do about it. - -Woe to the selectmen who should dare to oppose the decision of the Upper -House! Something dreadful would happen to them; but, as they never have -opposed it, one cannot tell what form the punishment would take. - -Now it fell, on a day, that the captains were sitting together spinning -yarns, as was their custom when business was over. The present and the -immediate future provided for, it was their delight to plunge into the -past, and bring up the marvellous treasures hidden in that great sea. -Captain Zeno Pye was telling about the loss of the "Sabra" in the year -1807. His father had been on the vessel, and Captain Zeno sometimes -forgot that it was not himself, so often had he told the story. The -other captains, sitting like so many veiled prophets, each shrouded in -his cloud of smoke, listened with the placid enjoyment of connoisseurs, -making a mental note of any slightest variation of word or inflection in -the familiar narrative. Any one of them could have told it in his sleep, -but it was Captain Zeno's story, and it was one of the unwritten laws of -the Upper House that no captain should tell another's story. - -"So," said Captain Zeno,--he was a little walnut-faced man, with sharp -black eyes, and a dry and rasping utterance,--"so they was makin' good -sailin' with a fair wind, on the 18th day of October, when all of a -suddent the lookout sung out--" - -"Thar she blows!" broke in Captain Abram, in his piping treble. - -"Where away?" responded Captain Silas Riggs, promptly. - -"Weather bow!" said the old man, and fell silent again. All looked at -Captain Zeno, who smiled appreciatively. - -"Won'erful, aint it?" he said, meditatively. "He knows that pint, Cap'n -Abram does, as well as I do. Wal, as I was sayin', they struck a school -o' whales, on the weather bow, sure enough; sperms they was, and -likely-lookin' fur as they could see. Three boats put off, and my -father, bein' mate at that time, had one of 'em. He sighted a -sixty-barrel bull, and was pullin' for him for dear life, when an old -cow come by with her calf, and when she saw the boat she dove, and one -eend o' the fluke struck 'em amidships, and stove a hole in 'em. Wal! -that kerwumpussed 'em, ye see! Nothin' for it but to pull back to the -ship, and set to work on repairs. My father called the carpenters, and -give 'em their job, an' then he looked after the school, and cussed a -little, mebbe, for all he was a perfessor, to think he was losin' all -the fun. All of a suddent he seed a whale leave the school, turn round, -and make straight for the ship. He didn't think nothin' of it, 'cept he -see 'twas the biggest bull his eyes had ever come across. Big? Wal!' -Twas like a island, Father used to say. He'd heerd tell of -two-hundred-and-thirty-barrel whales along back in the seventeens, and -he calc'lated this might be one of 'em left over. He see the critter was -comin' pooty nigh, and he sung out for a harpoon, thinkin' he might git -a shy, after all; when, lo ye! that whale took a start an' come through -the water like a shot out of a gun, and struck the ship just forrard of -the forechains. - -"Wal, sir, they was knocked consid'able eendways, I tell ye! Father was -dumfoundered for a minute, and the ship's crew with him, what with the -surprise on't, and the everlastin' shakin' it giv 'em, too. But Father -never let his wits go without a string tied to 'em, and in a minute he -ordered all hands to the pumps, to see if she had sprung a-leak. She -hed, sir; she was sinkin'; and Father run up the sign for the boats to -come back. He turned round from runnin' up that signal, and you may call -me a Jerseyman if the whale wasn't comin' for 'em agin, head on and all -sails drawin'! Before Father could sing out, he struck 'em again, pooty -nigh the same place, with a crash that sent every man-jack sprawlin' on -his face. Wal, sir, 'twas boats then, I can tell ye, and no time to -lose, neither! Th' other boats kem back and took 'em aboard, and in five -minutes' time the 'Sabry' down with her nose and up with her heels, and -down she went to Davy. Yes, sir! That's what you might call--" - -At this moment the captain was interrupted by a knock at the door. He -looked displeased, but said "Come aboard!" with as good a grace as he -could; while the other captains turned cheerfully in the direction of -the knocker, who might bring them something new in place of a -many-times-told tale. - -A lank, ungainly man entered, and stood timidly on one foot, with his -mouth open, holding the door in his hand. - -"Come aboard!" repeated Captain Zeno, impatiently. "Shet the door! Say -yer say with yer mouth, and then shet that,--if ye can get it all to at -onc't!" he added, in an undertone. - -The ungainly man looked slowly round the room, and stroked his -lantern-jaws. "That man!" he said, deliberately, lingering on each word -as if it were too precious to part with, "what be I to do with him?" - -The captains looked at one another. They had been speaking of this -matter only a few minutes before, but they feigned unconsciousness. - -"What man do you mean, Sefami Bunt?" asked Captain Zeno, severely. "The -prisoner who was caught stealin' hens from Palmyry Henshaw last week?" - -The man nodded. "Says he wants somethin' to do!" he said. "Says he'd -like to do chores round for his victuals. Says he doesn't like my -victuals." - -The captains chuckled. Sefami Bunt was a bachelor, and his housekeeping -was not supposed to be of a high order. - -"Have ye got him in the jail?" asked Captain Asy Bean. - -The lantern-jawed man shifted uneasily to the other foot. "Wal, I hev!" -he admitted. "But he doesn't seem to be contented with that." Then, -after a pause, "I brung him with me. 'T want safe to leave him, for the -jail door sags so I can't lock it, and the chain is bust. So 'f you'd -like to see him for yerselves--" - -"Where is he?" asked the captains in chorus. - -Sefami Bunt gave a backward jerk with his head. "I tied him to the leg -o' the table," he said. "The boys is mindin' of him. Sh'll I fetch him -up?" - -Receiving an affirmative answer, he disappeared, and returned, dragging -the prisoner by the collar. - -The latter, the instant he caught sight of the assembly of mariners, -shook off his keeper with a single movement; then, making his obeisance -in true seaman fashion, he glanced quickly round the room, and stood -still, cap in hand, in an attitude of respectful humility. - -He was a short, thick-set man, evidently of great strength; a sailor, -every inch of him, from the gold rings in his ears to the way he set his -feet down. Jet-black curls clustered about his brown, smiling face. His -dark eyes were alive with intelligence and humour. His open shirt -displayed a neck elaborately tattooed, while hands and wrists were a -museum of anchors, hearts and crosses. - -"Will you speak to him, Cap'n Bean?" said one or two of the other -captains in low tones. - -"Wal, I don't want to be settin' myself up," replied Captain Asy, "but -if it's the wish"--he glanced round the circle, and ascertained that it -was the wish. Whereupon, clearing his throat and assuming a quarter-deck -frown, he asked, in majestic tones, "What is your name, prisoner?" - -The dark eyes looked intelligence. "Name, honourable captains? Giorgios -Aristides Evangelides Paparipopoulos." - -"Great Andes!" exclaimed Captain Asy. "We've got the whole archipelago, -and no mistake. What do they _call_ ye? Hey?" - -"Ah!"--the brown face flashed into a bewildering smile, an ivory -revelation. "Call me? Jim!" - -The captains breathed again. - -"That's more civilized!" said Captain Asy. "Now, you Jim, what have you -got to say for yourself?" - -It appeared that Jim had a great deal to say for himself. He was not -happy, he must inform the honourable captains. He complained of his -quarters, of his jailer, of his fare. He had, it was true, stolen a hen, -being very hungry and having no money to seek the so honourable hotel. -The hen was almost uneatable, but--he had stolen her. He had been -condemned to three months' imprisonment in the jail, and it was well. -But--here he waxed eloquent, pathetic. "I haf been in jail, honourable -captains, before. Never for great offence, but--I have been. But never -like zis! Ze rain come in upon my bed. I try to shut ze door, for ze -wind blow at me, but he not shut. I sleep, and ze ship come in ze door -and eat me." - -"Hold on there!" said Captain Asy. "What do you mean by that? Hey? Ship -come in the door?" - -"Yes, honourable captain; t'ree gre't big ship. I hear 'baa! baa!' I -wake suddainlee, and zey are eat my foot." - -"Sheep, he means!" the jailer explained. "The' warnt but two, I guess. -Fact, they got a way o' wand'rin' int' the jail, but they wouldn't ha' -hurt him any. He's dretful skeered for one that's knocked about pooty -nigh the world over, from what he says." - -"But!" the prisoner maintained, turning a candid face upon the court; -"is it a jail--for ship to walk in and eat--what you say neeble--ze -foots of prisoners?" - -"No! no! 'taint!" "That's so!" "He's right, gentlemen!" came from the -assembled captains. - -"Zen," Jim continued, "ze mess! Salted backbone of hog--must I eat -always zis? Never for t'ree mont's ozer sing? Honourable captains, I -die." - -"Wal!" said Sefami Bunt, with a hint of bluster in his voice, "I guess -if backbone's good enough for me, it's good enough for him! 'Twas a good -hawg! and, anyway, I've got to use it!" - -"Sold the rest and salted down the backbone for yourself and prisoner?" -queried Captain Asy Bean. - -The jailer nodded, and repeated in an injured tone: - -"'Twas a good hawg! Anybody could ha' seen him fattenin' any time they -mind to pass by." - -"And I tell Mr. Bont,"--Jim resumed the thread of his narrative, smiling -apology around,--"I tell him, 'Let-a me go!' not ron avay, of course; I -cannot ron avay if I wish. It is island. I tell him 'Let-a me go and -work! I make ze door good; I mend ze windows; I do for ozer people work, -perhaps zey give me ozer mess.' Is it not?" with a sudden flash and -gleam of eyes and teeth. - -There was a short pause. "How did you come here, anyway?" queried -Captain Bije Tarbox. - -It appeared that Jim had fallen overboard from his vessel. It was night, -and his fall had not been noticed. Fortunately, the vessel was, even at -the moment, passing the Island. He was a good swimmer, used to being in -the water for a long time--briefly, behold him! He stole the hen. He was -taken, brought before the "selected gentlemen." That was his story. - -"Just step outside with Bunt a minute, my man," said Captain Asy Bean, -"and we'll settle your case." Then, as the door closed behind the -smiling criminal and his gloomy guardian, Captain Asy turned to the -others: - -"Gentlemen, this story may or may not be true. It sounds fishy; but, -anyhow, the man must have come from somewhere, and I d'no as it matters -much, s'long as he's here now. Question is, what to do with him now he -_is_ here. Just like them _se_leckmen, lettin' the jail go to rack an' -ruin, an' then clappin' a man in thar for the sheep to nibble." - -"Man's a seaman, anyhow," said Captain Bije Tarbox. "Ought t' ha' been -sent straight to us." - -"That's so!" assented the captains all. - -"Wal!" resumed Captain Asy, "'pears to me the straight thing is for us -to send for the _se_leckmen--they'll be goin' by to dinner direckly, an' -we can toll 'em in an' say to 'em--" - -"Thar she blows!" sang out Captain Abram. - -"Where away?" asked Captain Moses Packard. - -"Weather bow!" was the reply; and then the talk went on again. - - -Part II. - - -Palmyra Henshaw was sitting in her neat kitchen, with folded hands. The -kettle was singing cheerfully, the cat was purring contentedly by the -stove; but for once Miss Palmyra's mood did not chime in with the -singing or the purring. She had sprained her ankle the day before, and -it was now so painful, that, after dragging it about till her work was -"done up" (for, land sakes! she couldn't sit down in the dirt; and her -kitchen had to be cleaned up, if she did it on her hands and knees), she -was fain now to sit down and put the offending member up on a chair. - -She looked at the poor foot with great displeasure. It was badly -swollen; she had had to put on a green carpet slipper, one of an old -pair of her father's; and the contrast with her other foot, in its trim, -well-blacked shoe, was anything but pleasant. - -As she sat thus in silent discomfort, she heard the sound of the pump in -the yard. Somebody was working the handle up and down with firm, regular -strokes. - -"Well, what next?" said Miss Palmyra, fretfully, peering out of the -window and trying to gain a sight of the intruder. "I sh'd like to know -who's at that pump without askin' leave or license. I left the pail out -there, too, didn't I? Like as not it'll go, same as the hen did. I must -get up!"--she made a motion to rise, but sank back with a groan. "My -Land! Have I got to sit here and have my things stole without liftin' a -finger?" - -At the same moment she heard quick steps crossing the yard: the door -opened, and a man entered, carrying a brimming pail of water. Miss -Palmyra opened her mouth to shriek, but closed it again when the -stranger smiled. - -"Good eve!" said the man, who had black curls, gold rings in his ears, -and the brightest eyes that ever were seen. "I come to do ze work." - -"Work!" ejaculated Miss Palmyra, faintly. - -"Ze shores!" explained the man, with a brilliant flash of eyes and -teeth. "You have hurt ze foot? So peety! Look! I fill ze kettel--so! I -bring ze wood--so!" (He was gone, and back again with an armful of wood -before Miss Palmyra could trust her bewildered senses enough to know -whether she was awake or dreaming.) "I fill up ze stofe--so! And next? -It is a cow zat you haf? I milk her!" He swept a glance around the -kitchen, seized with unerring instinct the right pail, and was gone -again. - -Miss Palmyra pinched herself, and opened and shut her eyes several -times. - -"I wonder if I'm goin' crazy!" she said. "I feel kinder light-headed." - -She looked at the cat, who blinked quietly in return, and his calm air -of tranquillity steadied her nerves. "If he'd been a tramp, he wouldn't -ha' brought in that wood!" she said. "Would he, Eben?" The cat was named -Ebenezer. Ebenezer purred assurance, and Miss Palmyra's spirits rose. -"Like as not he's stayin' with some o' the neighbours!" she said. "Mis' -Brewster's real kind: mebbe this is her nephew she was expectin', and -she sent him in to help me. Well, I'm sure!" She twitched a little shawl -over the carpet-slipper, and settled her neat collar and apron. - -When the stranger returned, beaming over the brimming milk-pail, she was -able to greet him with "Well, you're real obligin', I must say. I didn't -hardly know what I should do about milkin', for I can't seem to put my -foot to the ground. Stayin' at Mis' Brewster's, be ye?" - -"No!" with a flash which illuminated the kitchen. "Not zere. Where he -live, ze milk? Zis door?" - -Miss Palmyra indicated the pantry door, where the yellow pans stood -ready and waiting. - -She listened keenly for a sound of spilling or dripping, but none came; -only a steady, even pouring. "He's a real good hand!" she murmured. - -"And now?" the dark eyes smiled on her again. "You lame, I get your -sopper. What you like?" - -"Oh,--no, sir, you can't do that!" cried Miss Palmyra. "I'm jist as -obliged, I assure _you_, but I sha'n't want nothin' more to-night. I had -a good dinner. Well, I'm sure!" - -She felt utterly helpless when the stranger, with another smile, -produced three eggs from his pocket, and taking a bowl, proceeded to -break the eggs into it and beat them with right good will. "When you -seeck, then you weak," he explained. "Most eat good sopper! I make!" - -In the twinkling of an eye the frying-pan was on the stove; and, while -it was heating, his keen black eyes spied a tray. Napkin, knife and fork -were arranged upon it with swift precision. Setting a plate to warm on -the back of the stove, he proceeded to do wonderful things with the -beaten eggs, tossing them about with a fork, stirring, seasoning, -tasting. This was done with the right hand, while the left was toasting -a slice of bread. All the time the black eyes were glancing here and -there, like darting sunbeams. Spying a string of onions, the stranger -pounced upon them. A morsel was torn off, shredded fine, and stirred -into the savoury mess. - -In five minutes such an omelette was smoking on the hot plate as Miss -Palmyra had never even dreamed of; and in one minute more it was beside -her on the little light-stand, and she was bidden "Eat! I make tea!" - -Now Miss Palmyra had _not_ had a good dinner, and she was desperately -hungry, and--oh! how good that omelette did smell! The toast was -perfect! - -Where had Mis' Brewster's nephew learned all this? And now, to crown -all, a cup of tea was set beside her,--hot, strong and fragrant. And -then-- - -"Please ze lady I also have a cup?" asked this astonishing person. The -tone was soft and pleading, the dark eyes deprecating, as if he were a -humble suitor, asking a royal boon. - -"Well, I should hope you could!" cried Miss Palmyra, hospitably. "The -idea! I don't see what I was thinking of, Mr.--_Is_ your name Brewster?" - -"No!" said the stranger, softly. "Name is Jim!" - -A good supper had Giorgios Aristides Evangelides Paparipopoulos, _alias_ -Jim, that night! There was more omelette than Miss Palmyra could -possibly eat, she declared; indeed, Jim had meant that there should be. -Then she told him where to find a certain loaf of spice cake, and a jar -of damson jam; and she insisted upon his eating till he could eat no -more. After a week of salted backbone of hog, Jim's appetite for these -good things was keen enough. - -He beamed with pleasure; his smiles made noonday in the darkening -kitchen: Miss Palmyra thought him uncommonly handsome. Only--it was a -pity he wore ear-rings. And, after all, who was he? She really must find -out. - -"You've never told me how you kem to know of my bein' lame!" she said, -as her guest was washing the dishes with careful nicety. "You a stranger -here, too! Who did send ye, if I'm not takin' a liberty?" - -"Ze honourable captains send me," said Jim, with open cheerfulness; "and -ze selected gentlemen." - -"Well, I'm sure!" ejaculated Miss Palmyra. - -"I steal your hen!" Jim explained, with winning grace. "Was very sorry; -should not have done--but! Now I work t'ree mont'; do shores for ladies; -do all works. But for you I work most, for I steal your hen. Is it not?" -And putting away the cups and saucers, he swept the hearth with ardour. - -"Well, I'm sure!" said Miss Palmyra again; and she really could not -think of anything else to say. - - -Everyone agreed that it was a special providence that Jim Popples (such -being the popular rendering of our hero's name) had been cast away on -the Island just when there was so much sickness "goin' about," and when -Aunt Ruhamy Snell, the accredited nurse of the Island, was laid up with -rheumatism The quick, active Greek was here, there and everywhere. He -split wood, he made fires, he milked cows. He mended chairs, and set -panes of glass; he kept all the children happy by plaiting wonderful -things out of twine, and whittling royal navies with his jackknife. - -He also mended up the jail as well as he could, and might be seen -patching the walls of his cell, whistling merrily, while the jailer sat -by in moody silence watching him. It was generally felt that Sefami Bunt -had not done as he ought by his prisoner, and that he really was not -fitted for the offices he held of jailer and hog-reeve; but, as Captain -Zeno Pye said, "thar warnt nothin' else Sefami _could_ do, and it kep' -him off the town, anyway." - -But Jim's best work, and his longest hours, were given to Miss Palmyra -Henshaw. She had freely forgiven him his theft of the hen, and in the -long period of inactivity to which she was now condemned (for if one -trifles with a sprained ankle, one is apt to pay for it, and it was a -month before she could do more than hobble about with a crutch), she -found him an invaluable friend. Morning, noon and night would see him -smiling at the door, with his cheery "How you do, Mees Palmyre? So -better, is it not? Glad I am!" - -Often he brought some little offering: a wooden dish of wild -strawberries; a string of fish, gleaming fresh from the water; or it -might be half-a-dozen crabs, which would crawl out of his pockets, only -to meet a swift death in the kettle of boiling water, and be converted -into some wonderful dish. Of Jim's skill in cookery, Miss Palmyra spoke -with bated breath. - -"Well!" she would say to Mrs. Brewster, who, toiling over her own cook -stove, sometimes wished she had a sprained ankle and could have Jim -Popples to do her work; "that man has a real gift, that's sartin'. Give -him an egg and an onion, and it does seem as if he could git the -flesh-pots of Egypt out of 'em. Jest you step to the cupboard, Mis' -Brewster. Thar's a corner I left special for you to taste, a dish o' -tomaytoes and rice he cooked for my dinner yesterday. Just them, and a -bit o' butter and a scrap of onion, and--thar! Did you ever! Don't that -relish good?" - -Small wonder that Miss Palmyra grew plump and rosy in spite of the -sprained ankle. - -Many a housewife wished, like Mrs. Brewster, that she also might profit -by Jim's gift; but though he did all kinds of chores for the whole -village, he would cook for no one but Miss Palmyra Henshaw. "I steal you -hen!" he said to her. "I wish to make you up for zat. I steal hens at no -ozer lady." - -So Miss Palmyra grew to feel a sort of ownership of Jim Popples, which -was by no means unpleasant; and she sewed on his buttons (for pleasure; -he could do it perfectly well himself, as she knew) and mended his -clothes; while he, at work with broom or mop, or whittling away at -basket-splints, told her wonderful stories of foreign lands, of apes and -peacocks, cedars and pomegranates, till the good woman grew to feel that -her thief was a very remarkable and very gifted person. - -So three months slipped away, as fast as months are apt to do; and a day -came when the captains sat all together in the Upper House at -Bannister's, and Giorgios Aristides Evangelides Paparipopoulos stood -before them, as he had stood once before, with his jailer glooming -beside him. - -The captains had sent for him, and now, at a murmur from the others, -Captain Zeno Pye took up the word: - -"Wal, Jim, yer three months is up, and I s'pose you're thinkin' about -goin'. Me and the captains feel to say to you that you've done well, -real well. Of course you started in mean, and stealin' aint right, -however you look at it. But you've worked stiddy, and you've worked -good; and I reckon you'd have to hunt round consid'able before you found -anybody in town who wa'n't real sorry to have ye go. If you felt to -stay, I don't doubt but you could get all the work you wanted, -odd-jobbin' round. The _se_leckmen 'd oughter pay ye somethin' for -repairin' the jail, but thar!--that's between you and them. Wal! the -steamer comes to-morrer, and I s'pose you'll be movin'. What we want to -say is, that we're right sorry to have ye go, Jim Popples. You're a -handy fellow, and I don't doubt you're a good seaman; and if me or the -other captains can speak a good word for ye, or help ye any way with a -start, why, we're ready to do it. That's so, aint it?" - -There was a growl of assent, in the midst of which-- - -"Thar she blows!" sung out Captain Abram Bannister. - -"Where away?" cried Captain Bije Tarbox. - -"Weather bow!" responded Captain Abram, and slept peacefully. - -Jim looked slowly round the circle; his smile grew wider and brighter, -till each man felt warm, and thought the weather was moderating; then he -saluted in seaman fashion. - -"I not go!" said the child of Hellas. "I stay. I get married -to-morrow--to Mees Palmyre!" - - - - -THE TROUBLING OF BETHESDA POOL. - - -Part I. - - -Some people in the village (but they were the spiteful ones) used to say -that Bethesda Pool might e'en so well be a dummy and done with it, if -she never could open her mouth when a person spoke to her. But there -were always others who were ready to respond that "it was a comfort -there was one woman who knew enough to hold her tongue when she had -nothing to say!" This retort was apt to provoke the reply churlish; and -many a pretty quarrel had been hatched up over the silence of Bethesda -Pool, who never quarrelled herself, because it entailed talking. - -She was the Lady of the Inn, Miss Bethesda. Her mother, the late Mrs. -Pool, had married the inn-keeper, and led a sad life of it. She was a -woman of a lively fancy, and had been in the habit of saying that if -she had been fool enough to get drownded in a pool, she meant to get all -the good she could out of the name! So she named her eldest daughter -Siloama (pronounced Silo-amy), her second Bethesda, and the son, who -came just after her husband had drowned himself in his special pool of -whiskey, Heshbon. The neighbours thought this triflin' with Scriptur', -and had their own opinion of Ma'am Pool's eccentricities; but the good -lady cared little for anybody's opinion; indeed, if she had had any such -care, she would not have married Father Pool, whose failings were well -known. All that was long ago, however; Father and Mother Pool were gone -to their places, the pensive Silo-amy and the fishy Heshbon had -followed, and Miss Bethesda was Queen of the Inn. - -The Inn was the only one in the village. Perhaps there was little need -even of this; but it had always been there since the old stage-coach -days, when the village was a favourite stopping-place for gay parties of -travellers, and when old Gran'ther Pool kept open house, and smiled over -his bar on all comers, like a rising sun a little the worse for wear. It -was a quaint old house, with a stone veranda in front, and mossy roofs -pitching this way and that. Inside was maze upon maze of long, narrow -corridors, with queer little rooms opening out of them,--some square, -some long; all low of ceiling and wavy of floor, with curious -dolphin-shaped latches, and doors set as if the builder had thrown them -at the wall and made the opening wherever they happened to strike. Few -of these doors were on a level with the floor; they might be two steps -above it, or three steps below; it was a matter of fancy, purely. There -was one room that could only be entered through the closet, unless you -preferred to get in at the window; but you could easily do that, as it -opened on the balcony. Then there was a square chamber containing a -trap-door; the Kidderminster carpet fitted the trap perfectly, and it -was a dangerous room for strangers to enter. Here the Freemasons used, -in old times, to hold their meetings, and carry on their mystic rites. -Later, it was the favourite playroom of the Pool children, and they and -their playmates were never tired of popping up and down the "Tumplety -Hole," as they called it. - -In the middle of the second story was a long ballroom, where in old days -merry dances had been held, and young feet jigged it to the tune of -"Money Musk" or "Hull's Victory." - -This room, with its wonderful wall-paper, representing the Carnival at -Rome, and its curious clock, was an object of wonder to the whole -village; and strangers or visitors were pretty sure to present -themselves at the Inn door, sometimes begging to be taken in for a few -days, sometimes merely asking the privilege of going over the quaint -old house. The reception of these visitors was apparently a matter of -caprice with the Lady of the Inn; one never could tell how she would -take it. Sometimes an eager statement that "We heard of your beautiful -house, and we have driven over from South Tupham, ten miles, on purpose -to see it!" would be met by the monosyllable "Have!" delivered in Miss -Bethesda's mildest tone, and the door would be softly but firmly shut in -the travellers' faces. Or the visitor might try another tack, and begin -with the bold assumption that the Inn was a place of public -entertainment, and that man and beast were welcome there, as a matter of -course. - -"I should like two bedrooms and a sitting-room, please! And will you -send someone to look out for my horses? And--I should like supper, -something hot, as soon as convenient!" To which Miss Bethesda might -reply, "Should you?" and smile, and again shut the door. - -But there were other times when something in the asking face or voice -touched one knew not what chord in the good lady's breast. On these -occasions she could be very gracious, and would say, perhaps, that she -really didn't know, she didn't take boarders--mebbe--just this -once--if't would accommodate--she didn't know--but she might compass it -somehow, and the door would be opened wide; and, once inside, the guest -was sure to be made so comfortable that he was loth to go away again. - -The fact was, that being clothed with means, as they say in the village, -the Lady of the Inn felt that it was merely a matter of personal fancy, -the taking in of guests, and that if she were not in the mood for -visitors there was no manner of reason why she should be bothered with -them. - -She had one servant, a grim elder, by name Ira Goodwin. The spiteful -people before alluded to said that Ira--or Iry, to give the name its -actual pronunciation--and his mistress never spoke to each other, but -communicated by means of signs. That could not be true, however, for -Mrs. Peake, next door, had been shaking a carpet in her yard one day, -close by the fence, and had heard Iry say, in a growling manner, "Guess -I can hold my tongue as well as others!" To which Miss Bethesda's crisp -tones replied: "You'd better, for the outside of your head does you more -credit than the inside!" - -Thus Miss Bethesda Pool lived in solitude for the most part, and content -with her lot; and no breeze ruffled the still waters of her life. - -It was very peaceful to be alone there in the great rambling Inn, and -hear no sound save the purring of the yellow cat, and the drip of the -water from the roofs. The roofs all leaked in the Inn, whenever there -was a possible chance for leaking, and the walls were covered with -strange patterns and hieroglyphics that were not included in the design -of the wall-paper. - -It happened one day that Miss Bethesda Pool was sitting in her own -comfortable room, toeing off a stocking, and thinking of many things, -when she heard a knock at the door. She took no notice of the first -summons, for she found that in many cases the knocker, after one, or at -most two, trials, was apt to go away, which saved a world of trouble, -and showed that he had no business that amounted to anything, anyhow. -But this was a persistent knocker, who kept on with a timid yet steady -"rat-tat-tat--" till Miss Bethesda concluded that, whoever it was, he -had not sense enough to know when he wasn't wanted, and that she must -answer the knock. - -She folded her knitting deliberately, and after examining the draughts -of the stove, and stroking the yellow cat two or three times, she went -to the door, holding her chin a little high, and looking, if the truth -must be told, rather uncompromising. - -When she opened the door, however, the lines of her face softened and -her chin went down. A bright-faced girl stood there, with a shawl -wrapped round her, for the day was cold. She was trying to smile, but -there were tears in her brown eyes, and her lip was quivering. - -"Miss Pool," she said, "I don't suppose I can come in, can I? I'd like -ever so much to speak to you, if you wouldn't mind!" - -Miss Bethesda opened the door wide, and without wasting breath, led the -shivering child in, and closed the door after her with a bang. That bang -carried defiance across the way, and gave Miss Bethesda as much comfort -as if she had let loose a torrent of angry words. There is great comfort -in a door sometimes. Still in silence, she led the girl into the -sitting-room, drew a chair near the stove for her, and motioned her to -sit down. Then resuming her own seat, she took up her knitting again, -and gazing calmly on her visitor, evidently felt that she had done her -part. - -"It's Father, Miss Pool!" said the pretty girl, whose name was Nan -Bradford. Miss Pool nodded comprehension, and set her lips more firmly. -"Father, he's going on dreadful!" said Nan. "You know Will Newell has -been--well, he has thought a sight of me, and I of him, these two years -past. - -"It came about while I was staying to grandma's, over to Cyrus, and -grandma knew all his folks, and there aint any better folks in the -country, grandma said. And yet--Father--he acts as though Will was one -thief and I was another. He won't let him come to the house, nor he -won't let me write to him, nor he won't do anything--'cept just be ugly! -There! I hadn't ought to say it, I know,--my own father, and just as -good a father as ever a girl has in the wide world, I do believe, till -this come up. But he won't hear of my marrying anybody,--that is the -plain truth, Miss Pool, not if it was a seraph with six wings! -And--and--what am I to do, I should like to know? I come to you, 'cause -you've always been good to me, and I seem to know you better than anyone -else, now grandma's dead. And I wouldn't complain of Father to anyone -else in the village, so I wouldn't!" - -She paused for breath; Miss Pool looked at her and nodded. It was an -expressive nod, and the girl seemed to feel better for it. She began to -cry softly, wiping her pretty eyes with the corner of her shawl. "I'm -just beat out!" she said, plaintively. "Be!" said Miss Bethesda, -soothingly; she went to the cupboard and brought out some of the famous -cookies which a few privileged children were allowed to taste from time -to time, but seldom anyone who had passed the boundary of childhood. -Nan, who was still a child in some ways, brightened at sight of the -cookies, and was soon nibbling them in comparative comfort, sighing -from time to time, and glancing up under her long eyelashes at Miss -Bethesda, who sat knitting as if her life depended upon it, her lips set -very tight, and apparently taking no notice of her guest. But Nan -Bradford knew Miss Pool, and was content to wait. She would not have -been let in, she knew, if the Lady of the Inn had not been in a good -mood. So, she nibbled the cookies, and thought of Will, and was as -comfortable as a lovelorn and persecuted damsel could be. - -Miss Bethesda kept her eyes fixed on her work, but she did not see it. -Instead of the gray wool and shining needles, a stalwart figure stood -before her, the figure of Buckstone Bradford. He had been her neighbour -for all the years of their life; he was four years her senior, and they -had been playmates in childhood. A breezy, rosy-cheeked boy he had been, -and her sworn ally. The children were apt to divide into two parties: -Bethesda and Buckstone on one side, Siloama and Heshbon on the other. -Thus arrayed, they were wont to do battle around the yawning gulf of the -Tumplety Hole, shouting their respective war-cries, which alluded, in an -unfriendly spirit, to the qualities of the enemy. - - - "Gruff and Grum! - Deaf and Dumb!" - - -Siloama and Heshbon would pipe shrilly; to which Bethesda and Buckstone -would reply, in deeper tones, - - - "Snivelly, Sneaky, - Wobbly, Weaky!" - - -A general combat would ensue, in the course of which both parties were -apt to fall down the trap-door into the basement room below, and be -rescued by Mother Pool, and summarily dealt with by her slipper. - -Then came the days of youth, when Buckstone courted her, and might have -won her if he had gone to work in the right way. But he was headstrong, -and she was obstinate; and he didn't get on with Siloama, and he was -hard on Heshbon, and so it had all blown over; he had married another -wife, and lost her while Nan was a baby. Miss Bethesda had forgotten all -about Nan by this time: before her stood the man of her choice, with his -feet apart and his chin stuck out, much as her own sometimes was; his -brows were knit, his eyes gleamed with sombre fire. - -"Bethesda," he said, and the words seemed to force the way through his -strong white teeth, "Bethesda, I'm going to marry you, anyway, and I'd -like to see you get out of it! Mind that!" - -Ah, well, that was all men knew! She had got out of it,--was it a sigh -that came at the thought, or a sniff of triumph, or a combination of the -two? And Buckstone had married a pindlin' soul that hadn't no more life -in her than a November chicken--and--that was all there was to it, Miss -Bethesda reckoned. - -And now, here he was hectoring this little girl of his, that always -favoured him, and had no look of her mother--hectoring and bullying, -just as he used; and Miss Bethesda wondered if the child was a-going to -stand it. She wouldn't have stood it, not a day, for her part, if she -was his daughter, let alone his--his--wife! And then she found herself -wondering whether he would have been so hectoring if she had been--and -brought herself up again with an indignant start. Why in Tunkett should -she be fretting herself about Buck Bradford's girl, she wanted to know! -And yet,--she had got the better of Buckstone Bradford once; it would -beat the world if she could put him down again, wouldn't it? - -While these thoughts were passing through her mind, the Lady of the Inn -sat, to all appearance, absorbed in her work, never dropping a stitch, -never failing to count with the regularity of a self-respecting clock; -and Nan Bradford watched her anxiously over the edge of her cooky. - - -Part II. - - - "Miss Pool asks the pleasure of your company at a social dance, on - Thursday evening, at seven o'clock. - - "Yours truly, - - "BETHESDA POOL." - - -This was the bomb-shell that fell into every respectable household in -the village two days after Nan Bradford's visit. Such a sensation had -never been known since old man Pool rode a saw-horse across the common -and into meeting the Sunday before he died; and, indeed, that was -nothing to be compared to this. Bethesdy Pool! Bethesdy Pool _give a -party_!! Well, what next? everybody wanted to know. Half-an-hour after -the notes had been delivered by Iry Goodwin (who carried them round in a -basket and handed them out as if they were death warrants), every woman -in the village, with two exceptions, was in another house than her own. - -"Have you got one?" "Have you?" "Let me see!" "Lemme see if 'tis like -mine?" "Yes, they're all the same!" "Well, I do declare! don't you?" "Is -the mile-ennion coming, or what, do you s'pose?" "A social dance! -Bethesdy Pool, as hasn't set down to a table, nor yet asked a soul to -set down to hers these fifteen years,--well of all! but so't is! You -can't tell where to have some folks, even though you've had 'em all your -life, as you may say!" - -The general verdict was that the Pools were all "streaky," and Bethesda -the most streakèd of any of them; and that most likely she was going -clean out of her mind this time, and there would be an end of it. - -However, the unanimity on this point was equalled by the determination -of everybody, old and young, rich and poor, to go to the party. In fact, -it seemed probable that every house in the village would be deserted on -the eventful evening; for not a soul was willing to lose the sight of a -party in the old Inn. - -Report said, as the day came nearer and nearer, that great preparations -were going on. Every woman who had any skill in cookery had offered her -services eagerly, hoping to have some share in the great doings; Mrs. -Fullby had "presumed likely" that Bethesda would have more'n she could -manage with her own two hands, and had assured her that she, Mrs. -Fullby, would jis lives's not bring her apurn and eggbeater and put -right in on the cake and frostin'! while Miss Virginia Sharpe hinted -delicately that there was "a certain twist" in the making of pastry -that was considered peculiar to the Sharpe family, and that no -festivity would be complete without "Sharpe tarts;" but Miss Bethesda -was of the opinion that she and Iry could do what was necessary, and -just as much obleeged to _them_! and in point of fact, not a soul, with -the exception of Nan Bradford, who was seen to emerge once from the Inn, -looking rather frightened but very happy, was permitted to set foot -within the mysterious doors. Mrs. Peake said that she saw Nan coming -home, looking as if she had seen a ghost and lost her heart to it; but -Mrs. Peake had a poetic way with her, and her remarks were not much -heeded in the village. - -It was thought more likely that Nan had been poking her nose in where -her betters wouldn't ha' thought of poking theirs, and got it taken off -for her pains, and served her right! But it happened that Mrs. Peake was -right this time. - -Thursday evening came! The moon was full, the sleighing perfect; Nature -was evidently in league with Miss Bethesda Pool, and meant to do her -share in making the party a success. Miss Pool, standing in state at the -end of the ballroom, waiting for her guests to arrive, made a pleasant -picture in her old-fashioned flowered brocade, one of the -self-supporting kind, little beholden to any figure inside it. Her hair -was still brown, still pretty, with its crinkles that caught the light, -and gave her a wonderful look of youth, well carried out by her bright -hazel eyes, and trim figure. In truth, she was not old, Miss Bethesda; -her fortieth birthday was only just past, and she was straight as a -dart, and strong as a tree; but when one has played old woman for -fifteen years, one gets to think the play a reality, and one's -neighbours are not slow to adopt the view. On looking in the glass, this -evening, Miss Bethesda experienced a slight shock, and a decided -impression of good looks. She wondered if Buckstone Bradford would find -her much changed; she regretted that she had worn her old "punkin" hood -quite so uniformly for the last ten years, and meditated on the -attractions of a certain sky-blue "fascinator," which had been lying in -her top-drawer ever since Siloama died. Fond of bright colours Siloama -always was, and dressy to the day of her death. Anyhow, the brocade was -handsome enough to please any one! Miss Bethesda smoothed down the -shining folds, examined her white silk mitts carefully, and glanced up -at the clock, to see how much longer she had to wait. Nearly seven! -Folks would most likely be on time, Miss Bethesda thought, with a grim -smile; curiosity could hurry the laziest folks that ever forgot to draw -their breath! She reckoned every old podogger in the village would turn -out to see Bethesdy Pool make a fool of herself; but let 'em come! -There'd be more than one fool to-night, if things went as they should! -'Twas strange, though, that she hadn't heard no word from-- - -Here her meditations were interrupted; for the door at the end of the -ballroom flew open and revealed a tall young man, wrapped to his eyes in -fur, who rushed forward and took her hand, and tried to say something, -and failed egregiously. - -"Will Newell!" cried Miss Bethesda, "do you mean to tell me this is you? -For gracious sake, what do you want? Didn't you get my note?" - -"Yes, ma'am, I did," cried the big fellow, drawing the sleeve of his fur -coat across his eyes. "I've done as you said; but I couldn't go farther -without thanking you, not if 'twas ever so! Miss Bethesda, I--I'd do -anything in the world for you, I believe. You don't know what a time -we've had,--Nan and me. We--I--well, I'm not one to talk, never was! but -I _would_ do anything for you, now, I would!" - -"Dance the Virginia Reel with me, then," said Miss Bethesda, smiling -grimly at her joke. "Or else, if you don't want to do that, take -yourself out of this as quick as you can, Will Newell, and get ready! -Hark! There's the bell this minute. You've fixed it all right with Nan?" - -"All right!" panted Will. "I've got the team hid away where you said, in -the old cow-shed. Now I'll go and fix me; and maybe we will have the -reel, Miss Pool, if you'll have it early enough on the programme. I -won't promise to wait for you, though, more'n the first half of the -evening." - -He ran out, his eyes shining with joy; and Miss Bethesda folded her -white mitts again, and waited calmly for the first guests. - -The clock struck seven, and Miss Bethesda glanced up again. It was a -wonderful clock, this of the old Inn. More than a hundred years it had -hung there, having been brought over from England by Gran'ther Pool, -before he lost his money and took to keeping the Inn. Its dial and frame -were gayly painted with dancing figures, with garlands of flowers, from -which peeped laughing faces of loves and fairies. The great weights that -hung against the wall were curious, too,--dolphin-shaped, like the -door-latches, and shining with remnants of gilding. And now, following -closely on the seventh stroke, came notes of music, faint, rustling -notes, the very spirit of sound; a waltz, sweet and delicate as the tiny -faces that peeped from the painted garlands on its dial, faltered forth -from the old clock: "Tra-la-la, lira-la, la-la!--" and between the notes -of the swinging measure the wheels creaked and groaned, and the wires -wheezed, and the weights lamented as they slid up and down. "Just like -any other old fool," thought Miss Bethesda, "doing things she has no -business to!" and for a moment she felt as old as the clock, and -repented her of her purpose. - -But the guests were here! They had been gathering for some time in the -cloak-room, and now one couple had been bold enough to make the first -break, and the narrow staircase was crowded with maids and matrons, sons -and fathers, all in their best. Every eye glistened with eager -curiosity, every mouth was open to whisper in the next ear at anything -singular that should meet the eye when they came into their hostess's -presence; but lo and behold! there stood Bethesda Pool, looking as if -she had a party every week of her life, and had nothing in the world to -do but stand there and look fine. - -Very stately was the courtesy with which Miss Bethesda greeted her -guests. She was pleased to see them; hoped they would enjoy themselves, -and make themselves as much to home as if they _was_ to home! This was -generally the extent of her conversation with any one group of eager -neighbours, before turning to welcome the next. But presently the colour -deepened a little in her still fresh cheek, and her eyes grew brighter; -for, coming up the ballroom, she saw the stalwart form of Buckstone -Bradford, with pretty Nan beside him, looking like roses and milk in her -white dress. "Knew he'd come!" Miss Bethesda said to herself; and -immediately discovered, by the flutter at her heart, that she had not -known, but only hoped it. - -Truth to tell, Mr. Bradford had had a dozen minds about coming to -Bethesda Pool's party. He had never forgiven her for her treatment of -him twenty years before; his heart was of firm and tenacious fibre, and -retained the impression of affections and of injuries more than many a -softer organ. He considered Bethesda still the finest-looking woman in -the neighbourhood, and would have snorted with contempt if anyone had -told him that his daughter Nan, with her pink-and-white prettiness, was -fairer than ever his old sweetheart had been. But admiring was not -forgiving, and nothing would have brought Buckstone out to-night save -the dread of "goings-on" on the part of his girl and that -good-for-nothing Newell fellow. - -There was something in the air,--Buckstone did not know what it -was,--something that made him uneasy. Nan had been so meek the last time -he scolded her, never once standing up for her favourite, as she was -wont to do; she had been so affectionate, and,--well, she was always a -good girl when she wasn't making a fool of herself about a noodle; but -there was more than usual, her father thought. He didn't dare to let her -go alone to the party; there was the plain truth of it; he was afraid, -he knew not of what. So he had had his hair cut, and had taken out and -brushed his wedding coat, not without angry and defiant thoughts of her -who should have stood up with him when he wore it; and, briefly, here he -was, standing before Bethesda Pool, grim and forbidding, but still a -fine-looking man, his hostess thought, and towering head and shoulders -above everyone else in the room. - -"Good evening, Mr. Bradford! pleased to see you!" - -"Your servant, Miss Pool!" and it was over, and the mist began to clear -from Miss Bethesda's eyes, as she turned aside to ask the fiddler if he -was ready. The fiddler was ready, of course. He had been tuning his -fiddle for the last fifteen minutes, and his fingers were itching to -begin. Was he not a pupil of old Jacques de Arthenay, the famous fiddler -of the last generation? And had he not been shelved for the past ten -years, just because folks were fools enough to prefer an organ and a -cornet to the only instrument ordained of Heaven to make people dance! -So with right good-will he mounted the stool in the corner, and struck -up the "Lady of the Lake." - -How many years it was since that hall had rung to the sound of a fiddle! -Probably no one present knew; but many, and especially the older ones, -or those who were cast in a sentimental mould, felt that there was -something ghostly in this first dance. People were a little timid, -perhaps; and their hostess, standing silent and stately in her stiff -brocade, was not the one to set them at their ease. It seemed to Miss -Selina Leaf as if, when the dancers took their places in the two long -lines, she heard the rustle of many gowns that were not seen in the -room; as if old, forgotten perfumes were wafted through the air, and -soft, subdued voices whispered courtly greetings at her side. She was -"littery," Miss Selina, and had written many "sweet things" for the -county weekly. - -But the "Lady of the Lake" is a robust and inspiring dance, and soon -banished all shadowy or sentimental thoughts from the minds of the -dancers. "Down the middle!" "Sashy to partners!" "Turn the same!" "Eight -hands round!" - -Soon eyes were sparkling and cheeks glowing like flame, and the young -feet went flying up and down the long, low room, as young feet will fly -when the fiddle sounds and the blood courses freely through the veins. - -Miss Bethesda Pool looked on with bright eyes, her foot (she had the -prettiest foot in the room, and knew it) tapping in time to the music. -She had refused several invitations to dance, without a word, simply a -sniff of denial; but it was good to see a dance again. - -Will Newell was there, dancing with his cousin, the pasty-faced girl, -who would have money when her grandfather died: dancing dutifully, as if -the cousin were the only girl in the room, and not so much as glancing -toward where Nan Bradford, more rosy than ever, was footing it lightly -as a fairy, opposite young Jacob Flynt. - -Jacob was her father's choice for her, as everybody knew; and it was no -wonder that Buckstone Bradford looked cheerful and contented as he -leaned against the wall with folded arms, watching the dancers. - -Yes, Buckstone was contented for the moment; things were going just as -he wished to see them; and yet--so ungrateful a creature is man--he -could not help suspecting even his own satisfaction. What made Nan so -happy? When had anyone seen her look like this before when she had to -dance with Jacob Flynt? Was this duty or--or what? - -The "Lady of the Lake" was followed by the "Portland Fancy;" that by the -splendid romp of the "Tempest." - -Ah! these were dances! Happy the neighbourhood where the real dances, -the wreathing, linked garlands of grace and lightness and youth, still -form part of a ball! The waltz is pretty enough, when well done; but -who has not tired of the endless whirl of revolving couples, dual -teetotums, spinning round and round, till sight and brain are dizzy -alike? You shall not find, in painting or sculpture, any showing forth -of waltz or polka as Nature's expression of joy and motion. But what -Greek vase or tablet, what glowing canvas of Giorgione, or Veronese, but -might be glad to catch the rhythmic swing of the "Tempest," as the long -line wavers to and fro, and the bold dancers in the middle sweep down -the hall and back again,--to catch and fix it in immortal lines of -carving or of colour? - - -"Gents choose partners for 'Pop goes the Weasel!'" - -There had been an intermission, during which the hall had hummed like a -hive of vari-coloured bees. People were thoroughly at ease now, and -speech flowed freely, as the couples promenaded up and down. - -"A festive occasion, truly, Mr. Bumpus!" said Miss Selina Leaf, with -gentle dignity. - -"Bustin'! bustin'!" replied Mr. Bumpus, with effusion. "Haven't seen -such goin's on in the village, _I_ d'no when! Does a person good to -limber out the j'ints once in a while; dancin's better than bar's grease -any day in the week! Haw! haw!" - -Miss Selina considered this remark vulgar, and bridled gently, but made -no reply. - -"Surprisin' thing, too," Mr. Bumpus went on. "Bethesdy Pool--now, you'd -ha' said her dancin' days were over, if anyone had ha' asked you, -wouldn't you,--same as yours and mine?" - -Miss Selina winced again, and looked toward a seat, but the bold Bumpus -went on, unconscious. - -"We'd ha' said that, surely,--you and me; yet there she is, looking most -as young as the girls, I do maintain. Don't know as there's any manner -of use in gettin' old before you're obleeged ter; never enj'yed a 'Lady -of the Lake' more than I did that one with you, ma'am. What's that? 'Pop -goes the Weasel?' Now you don't mean to say! Why, I haint danced 'Pop -goes the Weasel!' since my Maria was a baby, and look at her dancin' it -with her husband! Reckon I must look up my woman and dance this with -her, or she'll be castin' up at you, Miss Selina; so if you'll excuse -_me_!--" and the good man bustled off, leaving Miss Selina rigid with -indignation. - -"Pop goes the Weasel!" It was an old dance, and had not been seen in the -village for years. Indeed, many of the lads and lasses had never seen -it, and looked about them at a loss, as the lively strains struck up, -notes whose shrill gayety made even the "Tempest" seem quiet by -comparison. But the older men and women cast glances at each other, -half-shy, half-pleased. This was renewing old times with a vengeance! -Many a husband followed the example of Israel Bumpus, and led out the -choice of his youth, flattering himself that she "stood it as well as -any of 'em," while mature spinsters settled themselves elaborately in -their seats, with an air of never having heard of the old-fashioned -dance,--unless some one came to ask them for it, in which case memory -became suddenly refreshed, and they stood up with right good-will. - -Now it happened that in happier days this had been the favourite dance -of Miss Bethesda Pool, and that her favourite partner in it had been -Buckstone Bradford. She could not keep back a start when the well-known -air was played with all its old fire; and for the life of her, it -seemed, she could not help looking across the hall at Buckstone, where -he stood, leaning stiffly against the wall. He was looking at her, of -course: somehow, she knew he would be. Their eyes met; and perhaps -neither of them knew exactly what happened next. Before Mr. Bradford had -time to collect his thoughts, he found himself bowing his stiff back -before Bethesda Pool. "My dance, I believe!" he said, shortly; and -though Miss Bethesda knew it was nothing of the kind, she could not find -breath to say so. She looked up, she looked down; and the next moment, -to the amazement of everybody, the two old sweethearts took their places -at the head of the line. - -Now Will Newell had been growing uneasy during the last half-hour. He -had hardly had a chance to speak to Nan, yet had managed to make her -understand that all was ready, and that when he gave the word she was to -take her life in her hand and fly with him. But when could he give the -word? Bradford's eyes had hardly left his daughter's figure all the -evening; he followed her up and down the lines of dancers, frowning -heavily if Will happened to be near her in the dance, stolidly content -if her neighbour were young Jacob Flynt. What was Will to do? The horse -would be getting uneasy, and the moon would be setting before long. He -must get rid of old Bradford, somehow! - -Suddenly, hardly able to believe his eyes, he saw his tormentor fairly -turn his back on Nan: saw him cross the room, saw him bend before Miss -Bethesda, saw him standing up to dance. Now! now was the chance! In an -instant Will had forced his way before Jacob Flynt, who was just about -to lead Nan out for the dance. "You're engaged to me for this, you know, -Nan," said this unblushing young fellow; and he drew her arm under his -with a quick, masterful gesture. "But--but--but she promised me!" cried -poor Jacob, who stammered a little. - -"Oh, go to Tinkham!" said Will, alluding disrespectfully to the next -township; and he led off his trembling Nan in triumph. - - - "All around the cobbler's shop - The monkey chased the weasel; - That's the way the money goes,-- - _Pop!_ goes the weasel!" - - -The fiddle says "Pop!" as plainly as the ridiculous doggerel; and at the -word, two of the three who have been swinging round together lift their -arms, and the third goes "_pop!_" under and rises to confront the next -couple: more tiptoe swaying, balancing to this one, chassez-ing to that -one; then three hands round, and "_pop!_" goes the weasel again; and so -on down the whole room, in the prettiest, merriest, most enchanting -dance of them all. But this is engrossing, I would have you know. When -one is popping every third minute, and balancing and swinging during the -other two, it is difficult, it is impossible, to keep a sharp lookout on -two persons who are popping at the other end of the dance. Half of -Buckstone Bradford, the worst half, was having a sad time of it, trying -to see over his shoulder and behind his back; but the other half, the -one that had asked Miss Bethesda to dance, ah! that half was enjoying -itself as it had not done for years. How she danced! as pat to the -music as fiddle to bow! How small her hand looked, just as it used to -look, lying in his big brown palm! How--now, where in time were those -pesky young ones? - -For lo! a thing had happened. At the last triumphant "_pop!_" of the -weasel, there had been another pop through the little door at the -farther end of the hall; and by this time, Miss Bethesda calculated, -Will and Nan must have reached the foot of the back stairs, and be -flying across the kitchen on their way to the outer door and safety. She -drew a long breath, and turned to her companion, trying to keep the -light of triumph out of her eyes. Bradford had stopped short, setting -the dancers all astray; he looked around the room, seeking the -delinquents; his heavy brows met, his face grew scarlet. Yes, Miss -Bethesda knew he would be proper mad! But now he turned, and fixed his -eyes on her with relentless scrutiny; another moment, and with a roar -like a wild animal, he darted in pursuit. - -The fiddler, who had learned more things than fiddling from old De -Arthenay, put out his foot, hoping to trip up the angry man; but, heavy -as he was, Bradford leaped aside like a deer, and the next instant he -was in the outer hall, and Bethesda Pool after him. - -"Buckstone," she cried, "wait just a minute, and I'll tell you!" - -But he turned on her savagely. - -"I'll see to you afterwards, Bethesda Pool!" he cried, furiously. "You -won't make me lose time, I can tell you! Think I don't remember the old -short cut? Stand out of the way, or I shall do ye a hurt, and I don't -want to do that!" - -"Buckstone!" cried Miss Bethesda again; but this time the big man, -without another word, lifted her away from the doorway in which she had -placed herself, and rushed on. - -"He's forgotten," said Miss Bethesda to herself; "he's forgotten, and I -didn't tell him. He might--" she caught her breath, for there came the -sound of a crash, and then a heavy fall. "Lord, forgive me!" she cried. -"He's found it, sure enough, and like t' ha' killed himself." - -"It" meant the old trap-door in the room that was formerly used by the -Freemasons. Many and many a time had she and Buckstone explored it in -childish days, and played prisoner under it, and come up through it in -all manner of costume and disguise. He ought to have known the room as -well as he knew his own hand. Was it her fault that he had forgotten, in -his blind rage? But--but she had seen him rush into the room, and she -had not warned him. - -"Buckstone, be you hurt?" she cried, leaning over the dark hole in the -floor. She listened, and heard strange sounds from below,--grunts and -groans, mingled with unscriptural language. - -She drew a long breath. "I knew 'twasn't deep enough to hurt him real -bad," she said. "Provided he can cuss, I guess he's all right." - -She listened again, inclining her ear this time toward the outer door, -and she heard the clear jingle of sleigh-bells and the swish of a -sleigh, as it swept out of the yard and away over the snowy road. Again -Miss Bethesda breathed deep. "That's a good hearin'," she murmured; "but -I _am_ sorry for Buckstone! - -"Be you hurt?" she asked again, bending once more over the hole. - -"I'll let you know whether I'm hurt or not!" muttered Buckstone from -below. "Once let me get out of this, and I'll be even with you, Bethesda -Pool!" - -"Will!" said Miss Bethesda, in her calmest tone. "Well, I must be going, -Mr. Bradford. I'll send Iry to help you out. I _am_ surprised, though, -at you forgettin', after as many times as you've ben down that hole!" - -Mr. Bradford's reply did little credit to him as a church-member, and -Miss Bethesda, after calling her man and giving him certain directions, -returned to her guests in the dancing-hall. - -People were looking for her with some curiosity. The news of Will's -departure with Nan had spread, and when they saw Buckstone Bradford rush -from the room, followed closely by their hostess, there was a good deal -of suppressed excitement, but no one dared to follow; you might take -liberties with some folks, but Bethesda Pool was not one of them. And, -after all, she and Buck Bradford knew each other like two old shoes, if -they hadn't spoken for fifteen years; and what they--the guests--were -here for was a good time, so when the fiddler struck up the "Chorus -Jig," most of the dancers took the floor, leaving only a few of the most -curious to watch the door, and speculate what was going on behind it. -But now the little door opened, and here was Miss Pool again, calm and -unruffled, folding her mitted hands, and looking as if she had never -heard of such a thing as a runaway couple. - -"Why, Bethesdy!" said Mrs. Minchin, taking the freedom of an old -schoolmate, "we thought you was lost, for sure, goin' off with Mr. -Bradford that way!" - -"Did!" replied Miss Bethesda. "Please take your partners to go down to -supper!" - - -The guests, with one exception, were gone. The lights were out in the -long ballroom, and the old clock resumed its solitary sway, thankful -that the noisy scraping of the fiddle was over. As Miss Bethesda closed -the door behind her the clock struck two, and softly, timidly, stole -forth the notes of the fairy waltz, as elves, waiting for their forest -revels, might steal from their hiding-places when the clumsy foot of man -has ceased to echo in their sacred green places. "La-la-la, la-lira-la!" -and who could tell what gentle ghosts were now gliding forward in the -dance? - -But Miss Bethesda never thought of ghosts. She had to lay a spirit, it -was true, but there was little of ghostly about it. - -Perhaps she felt some trepidation at the thought of what was before her, -and as she listened to Iry's muttered words concerning the mental status -of the one guest remaining in the Inn. But she gave no sign, only told -Iry to go to bed, and leave his door open, in case she should want to -call him. - -She took a tray, and covering it with one of her finest napkins, -proceeded to lay out a dainty supper, such as she well knew how to -prepare. What had Buckstone liked best, in the old times? She guessed a -little of that lobster salad would be about right, and half-a-dozen -rolls, feathery and unsubstantial as baked morning cloud; then a -whip,--he always liked a tall whip, with raspberry jam at the bottom! -and a slice of plum-cake, and,--well, a glass of cherry-brandy might do -no harm, if they _were_ both temperance folks. He'd be some tired, -likely, raging and routing round the way he had been, from what Iry -said. And so Miss Bethesda, like the bold woman she was, unlocked the -sitting-room door, and entered the lion's den. - -She expected a rush, and held her tray firmly; but no rush came. The -lion was sitting huddled up in a great chair, with his foot on another -chair before him. At first Miss Bethesda thought he was asleep; but -catching the sombre glare of his dark eyes, she set the tray down -carefully, and faced her guest with folded hands and apparent composure. - -"How are you feeling, Mr. Bradford?" she asked, seeing, with some -compunction, how pale he was. - -"My leg is broke!" was the grim reply, "and I'm injured some inside, -most probably bleeding; but otherwise I'm well, Miss Pool, and much -obleeged to _you_!" - -"You're welcome!" said Bethesda, with a flash; and then she went down on -her knees, and manipulated him skilfully. - -"Your leg isn't broke!" she announced, cheerfully; "but you have got a -leetle sprain into your ankle, Buck,--I should say Mr. Bradford,--and -it's some considerable swoll up. You'd better let me bathe it for ye, -and then have a bit of supper, and then you can lay right down on the -l'unge here, and rest ye till morning. You'll be all right by then, I -calc'late, and able to git you home,--with a stick!" - -The last thrust was pure malice, and the big man winced; but not -altogether at thought of the stick or the sprained ankle. - -"I've got no home," he said; "thanks to you, Bethesda Pool! You've seen -that my girl got off safe with that good-for-nothin' feller, and that's -the last of any home for me! I hope it's done ye good!" - -"It has so!" replied Miss Bethesda, rubbing the ankle briskly with her -favourite liniment. "A sight o' good it's done me, Mr. Bradford, and I -hope 'twill do you good, too, some day!" - -"May I ask," Buckstone continued, grimly, glowering down on the little -woman, as she knelt beside him, "why you felt called to make or meddle -in my affairs, Miss Bethesda Pool?" - -"You may!" said Miss Bethesda, looking up with fire in her eye. "Your -girl, pretty creetur, come cryin' to me the other day, and told me all -about how you was treating her, Buckstone Bradford; and 'twas a shame, -and you know it was! There's nothing in this world against Will Newell, -well you know! He's a church-member, and he's well thought of by all -that's acquainted with him. You didn't like his father, because you -thought I,--because you thought things about him that there was no -occasion for thinking, and he killed in the war afterwards and all; and -that's all the reason, save and except that you are a greedy grab-all, -Buckstone Bradford, and don't want your girl to do anything all her days -'cept wait on you! That's the living truth, and you know it as well as I -do! Hurt ye, did I? Well, I'm sorry for that, but if I could hurt your -mind instead of your ankle, I should be pleased to death! I can speak -when I've a mind to, if they do call me a dummy; and I'm speaking to you -now, Buckstone, and don't you forget it! You've been acting mean and -selfish and greedy, and every right-thinking person in this village is -disgusted with you, clean through to the ground! So, now! And I helped -them children off for pure pleasure, so I did, and for love of seeing -young things happy, if I aint ben happy myself! Not that that's here or -there. I planned this party for it, and laid out consid'able money, and -set every tongue in the village clacking till they e'enamost dropped -off, and a mighty good thing, too, if they had! and I sent for Will -Newell, and showed him where he could hitch his hoss, and how he could -git his girl off the quickest and the safest. You was pretty spry, -Buckstone, but you wouldn't ha' caught 'em, even if you hadn't--if you -hadn't have fell down the Tumplety Hole. And--and that's what I did, and -glad clean through to my back-comb that I done it, and would do it again -the fust time I got a chance!" - -Miss Bethesda paused for breath, and bound up the lame ankle, wrapping -it in fold on fold of cool linen. She expected thunders of reply, but -Buckstone Bradford was silent. - -There was a long pause, during which the coals tinkled in the grate and -the frost cracked and snapped outside. - -At length,--"The Tumplety Hole!" he said, musingly. "Yes, that was it! I -was trying to think what we used to call it, and I couldn't bring the -name to mind. The Tumplety Hole, sure enough! And you come up through -it, one day, dressed in a white gown with silver trimmin's,--" - -"That I found in the old trunk up garret!" put in Miss Bethesda. - -"And flowers in your hair!" Bradford went on. "I thought you looked the -slickest of anything I ever saw, then, Bethesda; and--well, I don't know -but I think so still." - -"Foolishness!" said Miss Bethesda, rising and wiping her hands. "Have a -bit o' supper, now, Buckstone, do!" - -"No, I couldn't eat," said the big man, drawing his hand slowly across -his brow. "I couldn't eat your victuals, Bethesda, and have you thinkin' -of me the way you--you said. It's all true, it seems born in on me to -feel. I've done a good bit o' thinkin', sittin' here alone. I never -realized it before, but the fact seems to be that I've been a hog, and -bein' so, I can't sit down with no lady and eat her victuals, you see." - -"Foolishness!" said Miss Bethesda again, looking rather discomposed. -"You mustn't think too much of what I said, Buckstone. Mebbe I spoke too -hash--" - -"Oh, you spoke out!" said the man. "Needn't ever anybody tell me that -Bethesda Pool can't open her head. When them waters is troubled, there's -no mistake about their movin'; I knowed that before. You spoke out once -before to me, Bethesda, and the sound of it stays with me yet. There! I -guess I'll be goin'. You said you'd lend me a stick, did ye?" - -"Good Isick!" cried Miss Bethesda, standing up to bar his way, in real -distress. "Buckstone, you can't go out in this cold in the middle of the -night, and with your ankle that way. You'll ketch your death. Stop where -you be, like a sensible man, and have some supper with me!" - -"S'pose I do ketch my death!" said Buckstone; "aint no one to care, that -I know of. Nan's gone, and there's no one else, is there, Bethesda?" - -"Good Isick!" cried Miss Bethesda again, and wrung her hands in sheer -desperation. Whither were they drifting? - -"If I thought--" Buckstone Bradford was speaking again, slowly this -time, the anger clean gone out of him, but with an earnestness that -shook his deep voice, and made the brave little woman before him -tremble, and her cheek flush as it had not done for many a day-- - -"If I thought there _was_ anyone that cared what become of me; if I -thought there was anyone that was willing to let bygones be bygones, -seeing that I've cared for that person all my life, since--since first -we knew there was a Tumplety Hole in that room; if I thought there was -anyone who knew she could fetch out all the good there was in me,--in -old "Gruff and Grum,"--and that knew best of anyone how much good there -was to be fetched--why--if there _was_ any such person, I'd sit down to -that table the proudest man in the wide world, and the happiest! -But--but--I don't suppose there is, do you, Bethesda?" - -"Oh, my gracious land of deliverance!" cried Miss Bethesda, fairly -beside herself. "I--I--don't know as there is, Buckstone, and--and -yet--I don't know _but_ there is! But do, for gracious sake, sit down, -whatever way it is, and eat your supper like a Christian man!" - -And Buckstone sat down. - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JIM OF HELLAS, OR IN DURANCE VILE; -THE TROUBLING OF BETHESDA POOL*** - - -******* This file should be named 52068-8.txt or 52068-8.zip ******* - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/5/2/0/6/52068 - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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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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 <a -href="http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you are not -located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this ebook.</p> -<p>Title: Jim of Hellas, or In Durance Vile; The Troubling of Bethesda Pool</p> -<p>Author: Laura Elizabeth Howe Richards</p> -<p>Release Date: May 14, 2016 [eBook #52068]</p> -<p>Language: English</p> -<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> -<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JIM OF HELLAS, OR IN DURANCE VILE; THE TROUBLING OF BETHESDA POOL***</p> -<p> </p> -<h4>E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Martin Pettit,<br /> - and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> - (<a href="http://www.pgdp.net">http://www.pgdp.net</a>)<br /> - from page images generously made available by<br /> - Internet Archive/American Libraries<br /> - (<a href="https://archive.org/details/americana">https://archive.org/details/americana</a>)</h4> -<p> </p> -<table border="0" style="background-color: #ccccff;margin: 0 auto;" cellpadding="10"> - <tr> - <td valign="top"> - Note: - </td> - <td> - Images of the original pages are available through - Internet Archive/American Libraries. See - <a href="https://archive.org/details/jimofhellasorind00richiala"> - https://archive.org/details/jimofhellasorind00richiala</a> - </td> - </tr> -</table> -<p> </p> -<hr class="pg" /> -<p> </p> -<p> </p> -<p> </p> - -<div class="center"><a name="cover.jpg" id="cover.jpg"></a><img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="cover" /></div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> - -<p class="bold2">JIM OF HELLAS</p> - -<hr class="smler" /> - -<p class="bold2">THE TROUBLING OF<br />BETHESDA POOL</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p> - -<div class="box"> -<h2><i>Books by Laura E. Richards.</i></h2> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<p>"Mrs. Richards has made for herself a little niche apart in the literary -world, from her delicate treatment of New England village -life."—<i>Boston Post.</i></p> - -<p><b>JIM OF HELLAS; or, IN DURANCE VILE</b>, and a companion story, <b>BETHESDA -POOL</b>. 16mo, 50 cents.</p> - -<p><b>MARIE.</b> 16mo, 50 cents.</p> - -<p>"Seldom has Mrs. Richards drawn a more irresistible picture, or framed -one with more artistic literary adjustment."—<i>Boston Herald.</i></p> - -<p>"A perfect literary gem."—<i>Boston Transcript.</i></p> - -<p><b>NARCISSA</b>, and a companion story, <b>IN VERONA</b>. 16mo, cloth, 50 cents.</p> - -<p>"Each is a simple, touching, sweet little story of rustic New England -life, full of vivid pictures of interesting character, and refreshing -for its unaffected genuineness and human feeling."—<i>Congregationalist.</i></p> - -<p>"They are the most charming stories ever written of American country -life."—<i>New York World.</i></p> - -<p><b>MELODY.</b> The Story of a Child. 16mo, cloth, 50 cents.</p> - -<p>"Had there never been a 'Captain January,' 'Melody' would easily take -first place."—<i>Boston Times.</i></p> - -<p>"The quaintly pretty, touching, old-fashioned story is told with perfect -grace; the few persons who belong to it are touched in with distinctness -and with sympathy."—<i>Milwaukee Sentinel.</i></p> - -<p><b>SAME.</b> <i>Illustrated Holiday Edition.</i> With thirty half-tone pictures -from drawings by Frank T. Merrill. 4to, cloth, $1.25.</p> - -<p><b>CAPTAIN JANUARY.</b> 16mo, cloth, 50 cents.</p> - -<p>A charming idyl of New England coast life, whose success has been very -remarkable. One reads it, is thoroughly charmed by it, tells others, and -so its fame has been heralded by its readers, until to-day it is selling -by the thousands, constantly enlarging the circle of its delighted admirers.</p> - -<p><b>SAME.</b> <i>Illustrated Holiday Edition.</i> With thirty half-tone pictures -from drawings by Frank T. Merrill. 4to, cloth, $1.25.</p> - -<p><b>WHEN I WAS YOUR AGE.</b> 4to, cloth, gilt top, $1.25.</p> - -<p>The title most happily introduces the reader to the charming home-life -of Dr. Howe and Mrs. Julia Ward Howe during the childhood of the author.</p> - -<p><b>GLIMPSES OF THE FRENCH COURT.</b> Sketches from French History. -Illustrated with a series of portraits in etching and photogravure. -Square 12mo, cloth, $1.50.</p> - -<p>With true literary touch, she gives us the story of some of the salient -figures of this remarkable period.</p> - -<p><b>NAUTILUS.</b> A very interesting story, with illustrations; uniquely -bound, small quarto, 75 cents.</p> - -<p><b>FIVE MINUTE STORIES.</b> A charming collection of short poems and -clever stories for children.</p> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<p class="center"><i>Estes & Lauriat, Publishers, Boston.</i></p></div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="center"><img src="images/titlepage.jpg" alt="titlepage" /></div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> - -<h1>JIM OF HELLAS</h1> - -<p class="bold">OR</p> - -<p class="bold">IN DURANCE VILE</p> - -<hr class="smler" /> - -<p class="bold2">BETHESDA POOL</p> - -<p class="bold space-above">BY</p> - -<p class="bold2">LAURA E. RICHARDS</p> - -<p class="bold">Author of "Captain January," "Melody," "Queen Hildegarde,"<br /> -"Five-Minute Stories," "When I Was Your Age,"<br />"Narcissa," "Marie," "Nautilus."</p> - -<p class="bold space-above">Tenth Thousand</p> - -<p class="bold space-above">BOSTON<br />ESTES AND LAURIAT<br />1895</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p> - -<p class="center space-above"><i>Copyright, 1895</i>,<br /><br /> -<span class="smcap">By Estes & Lauriat</span><br /><br /><i>All rights reserved</i></p> - -<p class="center space-above"><i>Typography and Printing by<br />C. H. Simonds & Co.<br /> -Electrotyping by Geo. C. Scott & Sons<br />Boston, U.S.A.</i></p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p> - -<p class="center space-above">TO MY<br /><br /><b>Dear Brother,</b><br /><br /> -HENRY MARION HOWE,<br /><br />THIS VOLUME<br /><br /> -IS AFFECTIONATELY<br /><br />DEDICATED.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p> - -<p class="bold2">JIM OF HELLAS</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p> - -<h2>JIM OF HELLAS.</h2> - -<div class="center"><img src="images/idecrule.jpg" alt="decorative line" /></div> - -<h3>Part I.</h3> - -<p>Everyone knows the Island; it is not necessary to name it. With its -rolling downs, its points, its ponds, its light-houses, and above all, -its town,—who does not know the Island? Some day I shall write a story -about the downs, the billowy acres of gold on russet, russet on gold, -wonderful to see,—but this story is about the town.</p> - -<p>The town has its nominal government, like other towns; its selectmen, -and its town-meeting, and other like machinery; but everybody knows that -the real seat of government lies in the Upper House. The meetings of -this republican House of Lords are held in the best room of -"Bannister's," the one inn of the town. It is a pleasant, roomy old -structure, built in the Island fashion, with wide windows and plenty of -them, and with a railed platform on its flat-topped roof, from which, in -former days, the women<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> of the house used to watch for the coming of the -whaling-fleet.</p> - -<p>There is little watching now on the Island. No ships come into that -wonderful harbour, once thronged with sails. The great wharves rot -silently and fall apart; a few old hulks rot quietly beside them. Two or -three fishing-smacks, a coal-schooner or two,—these are all one sees -now from the roof or the windows of Bannister's.</p> - -<p>But the men who sit together in the upper room still look out of the -windows a great deal, because from them they can see the harbour, and -beyond it the sea; and the sea is what they love best to look at, for -the greater part of their lives has been spent on it. Old -sea-captains,—it needs but one glance to tell of what the Upper House -is composed: Men with faces that might have been carved out of mahogany, -wrinkled and seamed and beaten into strange lines by wind and weather; -with gray or white hair, for the most part, and shaggy beards, yet with -keen, bright eyes which are used to looking, and, what is not always the -same thing, to seeing what they look at.</p> - -<p>Though most of them go to sea no more, they keep with care their -sea-going aspect; they wear pea-jackets with huge horn buttons, heavy -sea-boots, and never fail to don their sou'westers in bad weather.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> The -room in which they sit is well suited to them. On the broad window-seats -lie spy-glasses and telescopes of all kinds. The walls are hung with -sea-trophies.</p> - -<p>Here is a piece of plank transfixed by the sharp blade of a sword-fish; -there, a pair of walrus-tusks; there, again, the beautiful horn of the -narwhal, like a wonderful lance of ivory, fit weapon for King Olaf or -Eric the Red. In the doorway stands a whale's jaw, a great arch ten feet -high, under which all must pass with thoughts of Jonah. As for corals -and shells, there is no end to them, for the upper room is a museum as -well as a place of convention, and here the captains love to bring their -choicest treasures, keeping only the second-best to adorn the -chimney-piece of the home-parlour.</p> - -<p>In a great arm-chair, facing a seaward window, sits the patriarch of the -Upper House, old Abram Bannister. His grandfather had built the inn -itself, his grandsons now keep it. Every morning, winter and summer, -Jake and Bill "hist" the old captain out of bed, put him in his chair, -and wheel him into the great room; then they give him a spy-glass to -hold in his hand, and leave him till dinner-time. The captains begin to -straggle in about eight o'clock, when their morning chores are done. -They greet the white old man with never-failing cordiality; he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> is the -pride of the Upper House. They are never tired of asking him how old he -is, nor of hearing him reply in his feeble, cheery pipe,—</p> - -<p>"Ninety-nine year, and risin' a hundred."</p> - -<p>He sleeps a good deal of the day, and, on waking, never fails to cry -out, "Thar' she blows!"</p> - -<p>Whereupon, one of the captains promptly replies, "Where away?" and the -patriarch says,—</p> - -<p>"Weather bow!" and straightway forgets all about it, and plays with his -spy-glass.</p> - -<p>When the captains are assembled in sufficient number, they discuss the -affairs of the town, talk over this or that question, and decide what -the "<i>se</i>-leckmen" ought to do about it.</p> - -<p>Woe to the selectmen who should dare to oppose the decision of the Upper -House! Something dreadful would happen to them; but, as they never have -opposed it, one cannot tell what form the punishment would take.</p> - -<p>Now it fell, on a day, that the captains were sitting together spinning -yarns, as was their custom when business was over. The present and the -immediate future provided for, it was their delight to plunge into the -past, and bring up the marvellous treasures hidden in that great sea. -Captain Zeno Pye was telling about the loss of the "Sabra" in the year -1807. His father had been on the vessel, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span>Captain Zeno sometimes -forgot that it was not himself, so often had he told the story. The -other captains, sitting like so many veiled prophets, each shrouded in -his cloud of smoke, listened with the placid enjoyment of connoisseurs, -making a mental note of any slightest variation of word or inflection in -the familiar narrative. Any one of them could have told it in his sleep, -but it was Captain Zeno's story, and it was one of the unwritten laws of -the Upper House that no captain should tell another's story.</p> - -<p>"So," said Captain Zeno,—he was a little walnut-faced man, with sharp -black eyes, and a dry and rasping utterance,—"so they was makin' good -sailin' with a fair wind, on the 18th day of October, when all of a -suddent the lookout sung out—"</p> - -<p>"Thar she blows!" broke in Captain Abram, in his piping treble.</p> - -<p>"Where away?" responded Captain Silas Riggs, promptly.</p> - -<p>"Weather bow!" said the old man, and fell silent again. All looked at -Captain Zeno, who smiled appreciatively.</p> - -<p>"Won'erful, aint it?" he said, meditatively. "He knows that pint, Cap'n -Abram does, as well as I do. Wal, as I was sayin', they struck a school -o' whales, on the weather bow, sure enough; sperms they was, and -likely-lookin' fur as they could see. Three<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> boats put off, and my -father, bein' mate at that time, had one of 'em. He sighted a -sixty-barrel bull, and was pullin' for him for dear life, when an old -cow come by with her calf, and when she saw the boat she dove, and one -eend o' the fluke struck 'em amidships, and stove a hole in 'em. Wal! -that kerwumpussed 'em, ye see! Nothin' for it but to pull back to the -ship, and set to work on repairs. My father called the carpenters, and -give 'em their job, an' then he looked after the school, and cussed a -little, mebbe, for all he was a perfessor, to think he was losin' all -the fun. All of a suddent he seed a whale leave the school, turn round, -and make straight for the ship. He didn't think nothin' of it, 'cept he -see 'twas the biggest bull his eyes had ever come across. Big? Wal!' -Twas like a island, Father used to say. He'd heerd tell of -two-hundred-and-thirty-barrel whales along back in the seventeens, and -he calc'lated this might be one of 'em left over. He see the critter was -comin' pooty nigh, and he sung out for a harpoon, thinkin' he might git -a shy, after all; when, lo ye! that whale took a start an' come through -the water like a shot out of a gun, and struck the ship just forrard of -the forechains.</p> - -<p>"Wal, sir, they was knocked consid'able eendways, I tell ye! Father was -dumfoundered for a minute,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> and the ship's crew with him, what with the -surprise on't, and the everlastin' shakin' it giv 'em, too. But Father -never let his wits go without a string tied to 'em, and in a minute he -ordered all hands to the pumps, to see if she had sprung a-leak. She -hed, sir; she was sinkin'; and Father run up the sign for the boats to -come back. He turned round from runnin' up that signal, and you may call -me a Jerseyman if the whale wasn't comin' for 'em agin, head on and all -sails drawin'! Before Father could sing out, he struck 'em again, pooty -nigh the same place, with a crash that sent every man-jack sprawlin' on -his face. Wal, sir, 'twas boats then, I can tell ye, and no time to -lose, neither! Th' other boats kem back and took 'em aboard, and in five -minutes' time the 'Sabry' down with her nose and up with her heels, and -down she went to Davy. Yes, sir! That's what you might call—"</p> - -<p>At this moment the captain was interrupted by a knock at the door. He -looked displeased, but said "Come aboard!" with as good a grace as he -could; while the other captains turned cheerfully in the direction of -the knocker, who might bring them something new in place of a -many-times-told tale.</p> - -<p>A lank, ungainly man entered, and stood timidly on one foot, with his -mouth open, holding the door in his hand.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p><p>"Come aboard!" repeated Captain Zeno, impatiently. "Shet the door! Say -yer say with yer mouth, and then shet that,—if ye can get it all to at -onc't!" he added, in an undertone.</p> - -<p>The ungainly man looked slowly round the room, and stroked his -lantern-jaws. "That man!" he said, deliberately, lingering on each word -as if it were too precious to part with, "what be I to do with him?"</p> - -<p>The captains looked at one another. They had been speaking of this -matter only a few minutes before, but they feigned unconsciousness.</p> - -<p>"What man do you mean, Sefami Bunt?" asked Captain Zeno, severely. "The -prisoner who was caught stealin' hens from Palmyry Henshaw last week?"</p> - -<p>The man nodded. "Says he wants somethin' to do!" he said. "Says he'd -like to do chores round for his victuals. Says he doesn't like my -victuals."</p> - -<p>The captains chuckled. Sefami Bunt was a bachelor, and his housekeeping -was not supposed to be of a high order.</p> - -<p>"Have ye got him in the jail?" asked Captain Asy Bean.</p> - -<p>The lantern-jawed man shifted uneasily to the other foot. "Wal, I hev!" -he admitted. "But he doesn't seem to be contented with that." Then, -after a pause, "I brung him with me. 'T want safe to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> leave him, for the -jail door sags so I can't lock it, and the chain is bust. So 'f you'd -like to see him for yerselves—"</p> - -<p>"Where is he?" asked the captains in chorus.</p> - -<p>Sefami Bunt gave a backward jerk with his head. "I tied him to the leg -o' the table," he said. "The boys is mindin' of him. Sh'll I fetch him up?"</p> - -<p>Receiving an affirmative answer, he disappeared, and returned, dragging -the prisoner by the collar.</p> - -<p>The latter, the instant he caught sight of the assembly of mariners, -shook off his keeper with a single movement; then, making his obeisance -in true seaman fashion, he glanced quickly round the room, and stood -still, cap in hand, in an attitude of respectful humility.</p> - -<p>He was a short, thick-set man, evidently of great strength; a sailor, -every inch of him, from the gold rings in his ears to the way he set his -feet down. Jet-black curls clustered about his brown, smiling face. His -dark eyes were alive with intelligence and humour. His open shirt -displayed a neck elaborately tattooed, while hands and wrists were a -museum of anchors, hearts and crosses.</p> - -<p>"Will you speak to him, Cap'n Bean?" said one or two of the other -captains in low tones.</p> - -<p>"Wal, I don't want to be settin' myself up," replied Captain Asy, "but -if it's the wish"—he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> glanced round the circle, and ascertained that it -was the wish. Whereupon, clearing his throat and assuming a quarter-deck -frown, he asked, in majestic tones, "What is your name, prisoner?"</p> - -<p>The dark eyes looked intelligence. "Name, honourable captains? Giorgios -Aristides Evangelides Paparipopoulos."</p> - -<p>"Great Andes!" exclaimed Captain Asy. "We've got the whole archipelago, -and no mistake. What do they <i>call</i> ye? Hey?"</p> - -<p>"Ah!"—the brown face flashed into a bewildering smile, an ivory -revelation. "Call me? Jim!"</p> - -<p>The captains breathed again.</p> - -<p>"That's more civilized!" said Captain Asy. "Now, you Jim, what have you -got to say for yourself?"</p> - -<p>It appeared that Jim had a great deal to say for himself. He was not -happy, he must inform the honourable captains. He complained of his -quarters, of his jailer, of his fare. He had, it was true, stolen a hen, -being very hungry and having no money to seek the so honourable hotel. -The hen was almost uneatable, but—he had stolen her. He had been -condemned to three months' imprisonment in the jail, and it was well. -But—here he waxed eloquent, pathetic. "I haf been in jail, honourable -captains, before. Never for great offence, but—I have been.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> But never -like zis! Ze rain come in upon my bed. I try to shut ze door, for ze -wind blow at me, but he not shut. I sleep, and ze ship come in ze door -and eat me."</p> - -<p>"Hold on there!" said Captain Asy. "What do you mean by that? Hey? Ship -come in the door?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, honourable captain; t'ree gre't big ship. I hear 'baa! baa!' I -wake suddainlee, and zey are eat my foot."</p> - -<p>"Sheep, he means!" the jailer explained. "The' warnt but two, I guess. -Fact, they got a way o' wand'rin' int' the jail, but they wouldn't ha' -hurt him any. He's dretful skeered for one that's knocked about pooty -nigh the world over, from what he says."</p> - -<p>"But!" the prisoner maintained, turning a candid face upon the court; -"is it a jail—for ship to walk in and eat—what you say neeble—ze -foots of prisoners?"</p> - -<p>"No! no! 'taint!" "That's so!" "He's right, gentlemen!" came from the -assembled captains.</p> - -<p>"Zen," Jim continued, "ze mess! Salted backbone of hog—must I eat -always zis? Never for t'ree mont's ozer sing? Honourable captains, I -die."</p> - -<p>"Wal!" said Sefami Bunt, with a hint of bluster in his voice, "I guess -if backbone's good enough for me, it's good enough for him! 'Twas a good -hawg! and, anyway, I've got to use it!"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p><p>"Sold the rest and salted down the backbone for yourself and prisoner?" -queried Captain Asy Bean.</p> - -<p>The jailer nodded, and repeated in an injured tone:</p> - -<p>"'Twas a good hawg! Anybody could ha' seen him fattenin' any time they -mind to pass by."</p> - -<p>"And I tell Mr. Bont,"—Jim resumed the thread of his narrative, smiling -apology around,—"I tell him, 'Let-a me go!' not ron avay, of course; I -cannot ron avay if I wish. It is island. I tell him 'Let-a me go and -work! I make ze door good; I mend ze windows; I do for ozer people work, -perhaps zey give me ozer mess.' Is it not?" with a sudden flash and -gleam of eyes and teeth.</p> - -<p>There was a short pause. "How did you come here, anyway?" queried -Captain Bije Tarbox.</p> - -<p>It appeared that Jim had fallen overboard from his vessel. It was night, -and his fall had not been noticed. Fortunately, the vessel was, even at -the moment, passing the Island. He was a good swimmer, used to being in -the water for a long time—briefly, behold him! He stole the hen. He was -taken, brought before the "selected gentlemen." That was his story.</p> - -<p>"Just step outside with Bunt a minute, my man," said Captain Asy Bean, -"and we'll settle your case." Then, as the door closed behind the -smiling criminal and his gloomy guardian, Captain Asy turned to the -others:</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p><p>"Gentlemen, this story may or may not be true. It sounds fishy; but, -anyhow, the man must have come from somewhere, and I d'no as it matters -much, s'long as he's here now. Question is, what to do with him now he -<i>is</i> here. Just like them <i>se</i>leckmen, lettin' the jail go to rack an' -ruin, an' then clappin' a man in thar for the sheep to nibble."</p> - -<p>"Man's a seaman, anyhow," said Captain Bije Tarbox. "Ought t' ha' been -sent straight to us."</p> - -<p>"That's so!" assented the captains all.</p> - -<p>"Wal!" resumed Captain Asy, "'pears to me the straight thing is for us -to send for the <i>se</i>leckmen—they'll be goin' by to dinner direckly, an' -we can toll 'em in an' say to 'em—"</p> - -<p>"Thar she blows!" sang out Captain Abram.</p> - -<p>"Where away?" asked Captain Moses Packard.</p> - -<p>"Weather bow!" was the reply; and then the talk went on again.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> - -<h3>Part II.</h3> - -<p>Palmyra Henshaw was sitting in her neat kitchen, with folded hands. The -kettle was singing cheerfully, the cat was purring contentedly by the -stove; but for once Miss Palmyra's mood did not chime in with the -singing or the purring. She had sprained her ankle the day before, and -it was now so painful, that, after dragging it about till her work was -"done up" (for, land sakes! she couldn't sit down in the dirt; and her -kitchen had to be cleaned up, if she did it on her hands and knees), she -was fain now to sit down and put the offending member up on a chair.</p> - -<p>She looked at the poor foot with great displeasure. It was badly -swollen; she had had to put on a green carpet slipper, one of an old -pair of her father's; and the contrast with her other foot, in its trim, -well-blacked shoe, was anything but pleasant.</p> - -<p>As she sat thus in silent discomfort, she heard the sound of the pump in -the yard. Somebody was working the handle up and down with firm, regular -strokes.</p> - -<p>"Well, what next?" said Miss Palmyra, fretfully,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> peering out of the -window and trying to gain a sight of the intruder. "I sh'd like to know -who's at that pump without askin' leave or license. I left the pail out -there, too, didn't I? Like as not it'll go, same as the hen did. I must -get up!"—she made a motion to rise, but sank back with a groan. "My -Land! Have I got to sit here and have my things stole without liftin' a -finger?"</p> - -<p>At the same moment she heard quick steps crossing the yard: the door -opened, and a man entered, carrying a brimming pail of water. Miss -Palmyra opened her mouth to shriek, but closed it again when the -stranger smiled.</p> - -<p>"Good eve!" said the man, who had black curls, gold rings in his ears, -and the brightest eyes that ever were seen. "I come to do ze work."</p> - -<p>"Work!" ejaculated Miss Palmyra, faintly.</p> - -<p>"Ze shores!" explained the man, with a brilliant flash of eyes and -teeth. "You have hurt ze foot? So peety! Look! I fill ze kettel—so! I -bring ze wood—so!" (He was gone, and back again with an armful of wood -before Miss Palmyra could trust her bewildered senses enough to know -whether she was awake or dreaming.) "I fill up ze stofe—so! And next? -It is a cow zat you haf? I milk her!" He swept a glance around the -kitchen, seized with unerring instinct the right pail, and was gone -again.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p><p>Miss Palmyra pinched herself, and opened and shut her eyes several -times.</p> - -<p>"I wonder if I'm goin' crazy!" she said. "I feel kinder light-headed."</p> - -<p>She looked at the cat, who blinked quietly in return, and his calm air -of tranquillity steadied her nerves. "If he'd been a tramp, he wouldn't -ha' brought in that wood!" she said. "Would he, Eben?" The cat was named -Ebenezer. Ebenezer purred assurance, and Miss Palmyra's spirits rose. -"Like as not he's stayin' with some o' the neighbours!" she said. "Mis' -Brewster's real kind: mebbe this is her nephew she was expectin', and -she sent him in to help me. Well, I'm sure!" She twitched a little shawl -over the carpet-slipper, and settled her neat collar and apron.</p> - -<p>When the stranger returned, beaming over the brimming milk-pail, she was -able to greet him with "Well, you're real obligin', I must say. I didn't -hardly know what I should do about milkin', for I can't seem to put my -foot to the ground. Stayin' at Mis' Brewster's, be ye?"</p> - -<p>"No!" with a flash which illuminated the kitchen. "Not zere. Where he -live, ze milk? Zis door?"</p> - -<p>Miss Palmyra indicated the pantry door, where the yellow pans stood -ready and waiting.</p> - -<p>She listened keenly for a sound of spilling or <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>dripping, but none came; -only a steady, even pouring. "He's a real good hand!" she murmured.</p> - -<p>"And now?" the dark eyes smiled on her again. "You lame, I get your -sopper. What you like?"</p> - -<p>"Oh,—no, sir, you can't do that!" cried Miss Palmyra. "I'm jist as -obliged, I assure <i>you</i>, but I sha'n't want nothin' more to-night. I had -a good dinner. Well, I'm sure!"</p> - -<p>She felt utterly helpless when the stranger, with another smile, -produced three eggs from his pocket, and taking a bowl, proceeded to -break the eggs into it and beat them with right good will. "When you -seeck, then you weak," he explained. "Most eat good sopper! I make!"</p> - -<p>In the twinkling of an eye the frying-pan was on the stove; and, while -it was heating, his keen black eyes spied a tray. Napkin, knife and fork -were arranged upon it with swift precision. Setting a plate to warm on -the back of the stove, he proceeded to do wonderful things with the -beaten eggs, tossing them about with a fork, stirring, seasoning, -tasting. This was done with the right hand, while the left was toasting -a slice of bread. All the time the black eyes were glancing here and -there, like darting sunbeams. Spying a string of onions, the stranger -pounced upon them. A morsel was torn off, shredded fine, and stirred -into the savoury mess.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p><p>In five minutes such an omelette was smoking on the hot plate as Miss -Palmyra had never even dreamed of; and in one minute more it was beside -her on the little light-stand, and she was bidden "Eat! I make tea!"</p> - -<p>Now Miss Palmyra had <i>not</i> had a good dinner, and she was desperately -hungry, and—oh! how good that omelette did smell! The toast was -perfect!</p> - -<p>Where had Mis' Brewster's nephew learned all this? And now, to crown -all, a cup of tea was set beside her,—hot, strong and fragrant. And -then—</p> - -<p>"Please ze lady I also have a cup?" asked this astonishing person. The -tone was soft and pleading, the dark eyes deprecating, as if he were a -humble suitor, asking a royal boon.</p> - -<p>"Well, I should hope you could!" cried Miss Palmyra, hospitably. The -idea! I don't see what I was thinking of, Mr.—<i>Is</i> your name Brewster?"</p> - -<p>"No!" said the stranger, softly. "Name is Jim!"</p> - -<p>A good supper had Giorgios Aristides Evangelides Paparipopoulos, <i>alias</i> -Jim, that night! There was more omelette than Miss Palmyra could -possibly eat, she declared; indeed, Jim had meant that there should be. -Then she told him where to find a certain loaf of spice cake, and a jar -of damson jam; and she insisted upon his eating till he could eat no -more. After a week of salted backbone of hog, Jim's appetite for these -good things was keen enough.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p><p>He beamed with pleasure; his smiles made noonday in the darkening -kitchen: Miss Palmyra thought him uncommonly handsome. Only—it was a -pity he wore ear-rings. And, after all, who was he? She really must find -out.</p> - -<p>"You've never told me how you kem to know of my bein' lame!" she said, -as her guest was washing the dishes with careful nicety. "You a stranger -here, too! Who did send ye, if I'm not takin' a liberty?"</p> - -<p>"Ze honourable captains send me," said Jim, with open cheerfulness; "and -ze selected gentlemen."</p> - -<p>"Well, I'm sure!" ejaculated Miss Palmyra.</p> - -<p>"I steal your hen!" Jim explained, with winning grace. "Was very sorry; -should not have done—but! Now I work t'ree mont'; do shores for ladies; -do all works. But for you I work most, for I steal your hen. Is it not?" -And putting away the cups and saucers, he swept the hearth with ardour.</p> - -<p>"Well, I'm sure!" said Miss Palmyra again; and she really could not -think of anything else to say.</p> - -<p class="space-above">Everyone agreed that it was a special providence that Jim Popples (such -being the popular rendering of our hero's name) had been cast away on -the Island just when there was so much sickness "goin' about," and when -Aunt Ruhamy Snell, the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>accredited nurse of the Island, was laid up with -rheumatism The quick, active Greek was here, there and everywhere. He -split wood, he made fires, he milked cows. He mended chairs, and set -panes of glass; he kept all the children happy by plaiting wonderful -things out of twine, and whittling royal navies with his jackknife.</p> - -<p>He also mended up the jail as well as he could, and might be seen -patching the walls of his cell, whistling merrily, while the jailer sat -by in moody silence watching him. It was generally felt that Sefami Bunt -had not done as he ought by his prisoner, and that he really was not -fitted for the offices he held of jailer and hog-reeve; but, as Captain -Zeno Pye said, "thar warnt nothin' else Sefami <i>could</i> do, and it kep' -him off the town, anyway."</p> - -<p>But Jim's best work, and his longest hours, were given to Miss Palmyra -Henshaw. She had freely forgiven him his theft of the hen, and in the -long period of inactivity to which she was now condemned (for if one -trifles with a sprained ankle, one is apt to pay for it, and it was a -month before she could do more than hobble about with a crutch), she -found him an invaluable friend. Morning, noon and night would see him -smiling at the door, with his cheery "How you do, Mees Palmyre? So -better, is it not? Glad I am!"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p><p>Often he brought some little offering: a wooden dish of wild -strawberries; a string of fish, gleaming fresh from the water; or it -might be half-a-dozen crabs, which would crawl out of his pockets, only -to meet a swift death in the kettle of boiling water, and be converted -into some wonderful dish. Of Jim's skill in cookery, Miss Palmyra spoke -with bated breath.</p> - -<p>"Well!" she would say to Mrs. Brewster, who, toiling over her own cook -stove, sometimes wished she had a sprained ankle and could have Jim -Popples to do her work; "that man has a real gift, that's sartin'. Give -him an egg and an onion, and it does seem as if he could git the -flesh-pots of Egypt out of 'em. Jest you step to the cupboard, Mis' -Brewster. Thar's a corner I left special for you to taste, a dish o' -tomaytoes and rice he cooked for my dinner yesterday. Just them, and a -bit o' butter and a scrap of onion, and—thar! Did you ever! Don't that -relish good?"</p> - -<p>Small wonder that Miss Palmyra grew plump and rosy in spite of the -sprained ankle.</p> - -<p>Many a housewife wished, like Mrs. Brewster, that she also might profit -by Jim's gift; but though he did all kinds of chores for the whole -village, he would cook for no one but Miss Palmyra Henshaw. "I steal you -hen!" he said to her. "I wish to make you up for zat. I steal hens at no -ozer lady."</p> - -<p>So Miss Palmyra grew to feel a sort of ownership<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> of Jim Popples, which -was by no means unpleasant; and she sewed on his buttons (for pleasure; -he could do it perfectly well himself, as she knew) and mended his -clothes; while he, at work with broom or mop, or whittling away at -basket-splints, told her wonderful stories of foreign lands, of apes and -peacocks, cedars and pomegranates, till the good woman grew to feel that -her thief was a very remarkable and very gifted person.</p> - -<p>So three months slipped away, as fast as months are apt to do; and a day -came when the captains sat all together in the Upper House at -Bannister's, and Giorgios Aristides Evangelides Paparipopoulos stood -before them, as he had stood once before, with his jailer glooming -beside him.</p> - -<p>The captains had sent for him, and now, at a murmur from the others, -Captain Zeno Pye took up the word:</p> - -<p>"Wal, Jim, yer three months is up, and I s'pose you're thinkin' about -goin'. Me and the captains feel to say to you that you've done well, -real well. Of course you started in mean, and stealin' aint right, -however you look at it. But you've worked stiddy, and you've worked -good; and I reckon you'd have to hunt round consid'able before you found -anybody in town who wa'n't real sorry to have ye go. If you felt to -stay, I don't doubt but you could get all the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> work you wanted, -odd-jobbin' round. The <i>se</i>leckmen 'd oughter pay ye somethin' for -repairin' the jail, but thar!—that's between you and them. Wal! the -steamer comes to-morrer, and I s'pose you'll be movin'. What we want to -say is, that we're right sorry to have ye go, Jim Popples. You're a -handy fellow, and I don't doubt you're a good seaman; and if me or the -other captains can speak a good word for ye, or help ye any way with a -start, why, we're ready to do it. That's so, aint it?"</p> - -<p>There was a growl of assent, in the midst of which—</p> - -<p>"Thar she blows!" sung out Captain Abram Bannister.</p> - -<p>"Where away?" cried Captain Bije Tarbox.</p> - -<p>"Weather bow!" responded Captain Abram, and slept peacefully.</p> - -<p>Jim looked slowly round the circle; his smile grew wider and brighter, -till each man felt warm, and thought the weather was moderating; then he -saluted in seaman fashion.</p> - -<p>"I not go!" said the child of Hellas. "I stay. I get married -to-morrow—to Mees Palmyre!"</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p> - -<p class="bold2">THE TROUBLING OF BETHESDA POOL</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p> - -<h2>THE TROUBLING OF BETHESDA POOL.</h2> - -<div class="center"><img src="images/idecrule.jpg" alt="decorative line" /></div> - -<h3>Part I.</h3> - -<p>Some people in the village (but they were the spiteful ones) used to say -that Bethesda Pool might e'en so well be a dummy and done with it, if -she never could open her mouth when a person spoke to her. But there -were always others who were ready to respond that "it was a comfort -there was one woman who knew enough to hold her tongue when she had -nothing to say!" This retort was apt to provoke the reply churlish; and -many a pretty quarrel had been hatched up over the silence of Bethesda -Pool, who never quarrelled herself, because it entailed talking.</p> - -<p>She was the Lady of the Inn, Miss Bethesda. Her mother, the late Mrs. -Pool, had married the inn-keeper, and led a sad life of it. She was a -woman of a lively fancy, and had been in the habit of saying<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> that if -she had been fool enough to get drownded in a pool, she meant to get all -the good she could out of the name! So she named her eldest daughter -Siloama (pronounced Silo-amy), her second Bethesda, and the son, who -came just after her husband had drowned himself in his special pool of -whiskey, Heshbon. The neighbours thought this triflin' with Scriptur', -and had their own opinion of Ma'am Pool's eccentricities; but the good -lady cared little for anybody's opinion; indeed, if she had had any such -care, she would not have married Father Pool, whose failings were well -known. All that was long ago, however; Father and Mother Pool were gone -to their places, the pensive Silo-amy and the fishy Heshbon had -followed, and Miss Bethesda was Queen of the Inn.</p> - -<p>The Inn was the only one in the village. Perhaps there was little need -even of this; but it had always been there since the old stage-coach -days, when the village was a favourite stopping-place for gay parties of -travellers, and when old Gran'ther Pool kept open house, and smiled over -his bar on all comers, like a rising sun a little the worse for wear. It -was a quaint old house, with a stone veranda in front, and mossy roofs -pitching this way and that. Inside was maze upon maze of long, narrow -corridors, with queer little rooms opening out of them,—some square, -some long; all low of ceiling and wavy of floor, with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> curious -dolphin-shaped latches, and doors set as if the builder had thrown them -at the wall and made the opening wherever they happened to strike. Few -of these doors were on a level with the floor; they might be two steps -above it, or three steps below; it was a matter of fancy, purely. There -was one room that could only be entered through the closet, unless you -preferred to get in at the window; but you could easily do that, as it -opened on the balcony. Then there was a square chamber containing a -trap-door; the Kidderminster carpet fitted the trap perfectly, and it -was a dangerous room for strangers to enter. Here the Freemasons used, -in old times, to hold their meetings, and carry on their mystic rites. -Later, it was the favourite playroom of the Pool children, and they and -their playmates were never tired of popping up and down the "Tumplety -Hole," as they called it.</p> - -<p>In the middle of the second story was a long ballroom, where in old days -merry dances had been held, and young feet jigged it to the tune of -"Money Musk" or "Hull's Victory."</p> - -<p>This room, with its wonderful wall-paper, representing the Carnival at -Rome, and its curious clock, was an object of wonder to the whole -village; and strangers or visitors were pretty sure to present -themselves at the Inn door, sometimes begging to be taken in for a few -days, sometimes merely asking the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> privilege of going over the quaint -old house. The reception of these visitors was apparently a matter of -caprice with the Lady of the Inn; one never could tell how she would -take it. Sometimes an eager statement that "We heard of your beautiful -house, and we have driven over from South Tupham, ten miles, on purpose -to see it!" would be met by the monosyllable "Have!" delivered in Miss -Bethesda's mildest tone, and the door would be softly but firmly shut in -the travellers' faces. Or the visitor might try another tack, and begin -with the bold assumption that the Inn was a place of public -entertainment, and that man and beast were welcome there, as a matter of -course.</p> - -<p>"I should like two bedrooms and a sitting-room, please! And will you -send someone to look out for my horses? And—I should like supper, -something hot, as soon as convenient!" To which Miss Bethesda might -reply, "Should you?" and smile, and again shut the door.</p> - -<p>But there were other times when something in the asking face or voice -touched one knew not what chord in the good lady's breast. On these -occasions she could be very gracious, and would say, perhaps, that she -really didn't know, she didn't take boarders—mebbe—just this -once—if't would accommodate—she didn't know—but she might compass it -somehow, and the door would be opened wide; and, once<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> inside, the guest -was sure to be made so comfortable that he was loth to go away again.</p> - -<p>The fact was, that being clothed with means, as they say in the village, -the Lady of the Inn felt that it was merely a matter of personal fancy, -the taking in of guests, and that if she were not in the mood for -visitors there was no manner of reason why she should be bothered with -them.</p> - -<p>She had one servant, a grim elder, by name Ira Goodwin. The spiteful -people before alluded to said that Ira—or Iry, to give the name its -actual pronunciation—and his mistress never spoke to each other, but -communicated by means of signs. That could not be true, however, for -Mrs. Peake, next door, had been shaking a carpet in her yard one day, -close by the fence, and had heard Iry say, in a growling manner, "Guess -I can hold my tongue as well as others!" To which Miss Bethesda's crisp -tones replied: "You'd better, for the outside of your head does you more -credit than the inside!"</p> - -<p>Thus Miss Bethesda Pool lived in solitude for the most part, and content -with her lot; and no breeze ruffled the still waters of her life.</p> - -<p>It was very peaceful to be alone there in the great rambling Inn, and -hear no sound save the purring of the yellow cat, and the drip of the -water from the roofs. The roofs all leaked in the Inn, whenever<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> there -was a possible chance for leaking, and the walls were covered with -strange patterns and hieroglyphics that were not included in the design -of the wall-paper.</p> - -<p>It happened one day that Miss Bethesda Pool was sitting in her own -comfortable room, toeing off a stocking, and thinking of many things, -when she heard a knock at the door. She took no notice of the first -summons, for she found that in many cases the knocker, after one, or at -most two, trials, was apt to go away, which saved a world of trouble, -and showed that he had no business that amounted to anything, anyhow. -But this was a persistent knocker, who kept on with a timid yet steady -"rat-tat-tat—" till Miss Bethesda concluded that, whoever it was, he -had not sense enough to know when he wasn't wanted, and that she must -answer the knock.</p> - -<p>She folded her knitting deliberately, and after examining the draughts -of the stove, and stroking the yellow cat two or three times, she went -to the door, holding her chin a little high, and looking, if the truth -must be told, rather uncompromising.</p> - -<p>When she opened the door, however, the lines of her face softened and -her chin went down. A bright-faced girl stood there, with a shawl -wrapped round her, for the day was cold. She was trying to smile, but -there were tears in her brown eyes, and her lip was quivering.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p><p>"Miss Pool," she said, "I don't suppose I can come in, can I? I'd like -ever so much to speak to you, if you wouldn't mind!"</p> - -<p>Miss Bethesda opened the door wide, and without wasting breath, led the -shivering child in, and closed the door after her with a bang. That bang -carried defiance across the way, and gave Miss Bethesda as much comfort -as if she had let loose a torrent of angry words. There is great comfort -in a door sometimes. Still in silence, she led the girl into the -sitting-room, drew a chair near the stove for her, and motioned her to -sit down. Then resuming her own seat, she took up her knitting again, -and gazing calmly on her visitor, evidently felt that she had done her -part.</p> - -<p>"It's Father, Miss Pool!" said the pretty girl, whose name was Nan -Bradford. Miss Pool nodded comprehension, and set her lips more firmly. -"Father, he's going on dreadful!" said Nan. "You know Will Newell has -been—well, he has thought a sight of me, and I of him, these two years -past.</p> - -<p>"It came about while I was staying to grandma's, over to Cyrus, and -grandma knew all his folks, and there aint any better folks in the -country, grandma said. And yet—Father—he acts as though Will was one -thief and I was another. He won't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> let him come to the house, nor he -won't let me write to him, nor he won't do anything—'cept just be ugly! -There! I hadn't ought to say it, I know,—my own father, and just as -good a father as ever a girl has in the wide world, I do believe, till -this come up. But he won't hear of my marrying anybody,—that is the -plain truth, Miss Pool, not if it was a seraph with six wings! -And—and—what am I to do, I should like to know? I come to you, 'cause -you've always been good to me, and I seem to know you better than anyone -else, now grandma's dead. And I wouldn't complain of Father to anyone -else in the village, so I wouldn't!"</p> - -<p>She paused for breath; Miss Pool looked at her and nodded. It was an -expressive nod, and the girl seemed to feel better for it. She began to -cry softly, wiping her pretty eyes with the corner of her shawl. "I'm -just beat out!" she said, plaintively. "Be!" said Miss Bethesda, -soothingly; she went to the cupboard and brought out some of the famous -cookies which a few privileged children were allowed to taste from time -to time, but seldom anyone who had passed the boundary of childhood. -Nan, who was still a child in some ways, brightened at sight of the -cookies, and was soon nibbling them in comparative<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> comfort, sighing -from time to time, and glancing up under her long eyelashes at Miss -Bethesda, who sat knitting as if her life depended upon it, her lips set -very tight, and apparently taking no notice of her guest. But Nan -Bradford knew Miss Pool, and was content to wait. She would not have -been let in, she knew, if the Lady of the Inn had not been in a good -mood. So, she nibbled the cookies, and thought of Will, and was as -comfortable as a lovelorn and persecuted damsel could be.</p> - -<p>Miss Bethesda kept her eyes fixed on her work, but she did not see it. -Instead of the gray wool and shining needles, a stalwart figure stood -before her, the figure of Buckstone Bradford. He had been her neighbour -for all the years of their life; he was four years her senior, and they -had been playmates in childhood. A breezy, rosy-cheeked boy he had been, -and her sworn ally. The children were apt to divide into two parties: -Bethesda and Buckstone on one side, Siloama and Heshbon on the other. -Thus arrayed, they were wont to do battle around the yawning gulf of the -Tumplety Hole, shouting their respective war-cries, which alluded, in an -unfriendly spirit, to the qualities of the enemy.</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>"Gruff and Grum!</div> -<div>Deaf and Dumb!"</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p><p>Siloama and Heshbon would pipe shrilly; to which Bethesda and Buckstone -would reply, in deeper tones,</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>"Snivelly, Sneaky,</div> -<div>Wobbly, Weaky!"</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>A general combat would ensue, in the course of which both parties were -apt to fall down the trap-door into the basement room below, and be -rescued by Mother Pool, and summarily dealt with by her slipper.</p> - -<p>Then came the days of youth, when Buckstone courted her, and might have -won her if he had gone to work in the right way. But he was headstrong, -and she was obstinate; and he didn't get on with Siloama, and he was -hard on Heshbon, and so it had all blown over; he had married another -wife, and lost her while Nan was a baby. Miss Bethesda had forgotten all -about Nan by this time: before her stood the man of her choice, with his -feet apart and his chin stuck out, much as her own sometimes was; his -brows were knit, his eyes gleamed with sombre fire.</p> - -<p>"Bethesda," he said, and the words seemed to force the way through his -strong white teeth, "Bethesda, I'm going to marry you, anyway, and I'd -like to see you get out of it! Mind that!"</p> - -<p>Ah, well, that was all men knew! She had got out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> of it,—was it a sigh -that came at the thought, or a sniff of triumph, or a combination of the -two? And Buckstone had married a pindlin' soul that hadn't no more life -in her than a November chicken—and—that was all there was to it, Miss -Bethesda reckoned.</p> - -<p>And now, here he was hectoring this little girl of his, that always -favoured him, and had no look of her mother—hectoring and bullying, -just as he used; and Miss Bethesda wondered if the child was a-going to -stand it. She wouldn't have stood it, not a day, for her part, if she -was his daughter, let alone his—his—wife! And then she found herself -wondering whether he would have been so hectoring if she had been—and -brought herself up again with an indignant start. Why in Tunkett should -she be fretting herself about Buck Bradford's girl, she wanted to know! -And yet,—she had got the better of Buckstone Bradford once; it would -beat the world if she could put him down again, wouldn't it?</p> - -<p>While these thoughts were passing through her mind, the Lady of the Inn -sat, to all appearance, absorbed in her work, never dropping a stitch, -never failing to count with the regularity of a self-respecting clock; -and Nan Bradford watched her anxiously over the edge of her cooky.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> - -<h3>Part II.</h3> - -<blockquote><p>"Miss Pool asks the pleasure of your company at a social dance, on -Thursday evening, at seven o'clock.</p> - -<p class="right">"Yours truly,<span class="s3"> </span><br /> -"<span class="smcap">Bethesda Pool</span>."</p></blockquote> - - -<p>This was the bomb-shell that fell into every respectable household in -the village two days after Nan Bradford's visit. Such a sensation had -never been known since old man Pool rode a saw-horse across the common -and into meeting the Sunday before he died; and, indeed, that was -nothing to be compared to this. Bethesdy Pool! Bethesdy Pool <i>give a -party</i>!! Well, what next? everybody wanted to know. Half-an-hour after -the notes had been delivered by Iry Goodwin (who carried them round in a -basket and handed them out as if they were death warrants), every woman -in the village, with two exceptions, was in another house than her own.</p> - -<p>"Have you got one?" "Have you?" "Let me see!" "Lemme see if 'tis like -mine?" "Yes, they're all the same!" "Well, I do declare! don't you?" "Is -the mile-ennion coming, or what, do you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> s'pose?" "A social dance! -Bethesdy Pool, as hasn't set down to a table, nor yet asked a soul to -set down to hers these fifteen years,—well of all! but so't is! You -can't tell where to have some folks, even though you've had 'em all your -life, as you may say!"</p> - -<p>The general verdict was that the Pools were all "streaky," and Bethesda -the most streakèd of any of them; and that most likely she was going -clean out of her mind this time, and there would be an end of it.</p> - -<p>However, the unanimity on this point was equalled by the determination -of everybody, old and young, rich and poor, to go to the party. In fact, -it seemed probable that every house in the village would be deserted on -the eventful evening; for not a soul was willing to lose the sight of a -party in the old Inn.</p> - -<p>Report said, as the day came nearer and nearer, that great preparations -were going on. Every woman who had any skill in cookery had offered her -services eagerly, hoping to have some share in the great doings; Mrs. -Fullby had "presumed likely" that Bethesda would have more'n she could -manage with her own two hands, and had assured her that she, Mrs. -Fullby, would jis lives's not bring her apurn and eggbeater and put -right in on the cake and frostin'! while Miss Virginia Sharpe hinted -delicately that there was "a certain twist" in the making of pastry -that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> was considered peculiar to the Sharpe family, and that no -festivity would be complete without "Sharpe tarts;" but Miss Bethesda -was of the opinion that she and Iry could do what was necessary, and -just as much obleeged to <i>them</i>! and in point of fact, not a soul, with -the exception of Nan Bradford, who was seen to emerge once from the Inn, -looking rather frightened but very happy, was permitted to set foot -within the mysterious doors. Mrs. Peake said that she saw Nan coming -home, looking as if she had seen a ghost and lost her heart to it; but -Mrs. Peake had a poetic way with her, and her remarks were not much -heeded in the village.</p> - -<p>It was thought more likely that Nan had been poking her nose in where -her betters wouldn't ha' thought of poking theirs, and got it taken off -for her pains, and served her right! But it happened that Mrs. Peake was -right this time.</p> - -<p>Thursday evening came! The moon was full, the sleighing perfect; Nature -was evidently in league with Miss Bethesda Pool, and meant to do her -share in making the party a success. Miss Pool, standing in state at the -end of the ballroom, waiting for her guests to arrive, made a pleasant -picture in her old-fashioned flowered brocade, one of the -self-supporting kind, little beholden to any figure inside it. Her hair -was still brown, still pretty, with its crinkles that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> caught the light, -and gave her a wonderful look of youth, well carried out by her bright -hazel eyes, and trim figure. In truth, she was not old, Miss Bethesda; -her fortieth birthday was only just past, and she was straight as a -dart, and strong as a tree; but when one has played old woman for -fifteen years, one gets to think the play a reality, and one's -neighbours are not slow to adopt the view. On looking in the glass, this -evening, Miss Bethesda experienced a slight shock, and a decided -impression of good looks. She wondered if Buckstone Bradford would find -her much changed; she regretted that she had worn her old "punkin" hood -quite so uniformly for the last ten years, and meditated on the -attractions of a certain sky-blue "fascinator," which had been lying in -her top-drawer ever since Siloama died. Fond of bright colours Siloama -always was, and dressy to the day of her death. Anyhow, the brocade was -handsome enough to please any one! Miss Bethesda smoothed down the -shining folds, examined her white silk mitts carefully, and glanced up -at the clock, to see how much longer she had to wait. Nearly seven! -Folks would most likely be on time, Miss Bethesda thought, with a grim -smile; curiosity could hurry the laziest folks that ever forgot to draw -their breath! She reckoned every old podogger in the village would turn -out to see Bethesdy Pool make a fool of herself; but let<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> 'em come! -There'd be more than one fool to-night, if things went as they should! -'Twas strange, though, that she hadn't heard no word from—</p> - -<p>Here her meditations were interrupted; for the door at the end of the -ballroom flew open and revealed a tall young man, wrapped to his eyes in -fur, who rushed forward and took her hand, and tried to say something, -and failed egregiously.</p> - -<p>"Will Newell!" cried Miss Bethesda, "do you mean to tell me this is you? -For gracious sake, what do you want? Didn't you get my note?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, ma'am, I did," cried the big fellow, drawing the sleeve of his fur -coat across his eyes. "I've done as you said; but I couldn't go farther -without thanking you, not if 'twas ever so! Miss Bethesda, I—I'd do -anything in the world for you, I believe. You don't know what a time -we've had,—Nan and me. We—I—well, I'm not one to talk, never was! but -I <i>would</i> do anything for you, now, I would!"</p> - -<p>"Dance the Virginia Reel with me, then," said Miss Bethesda, smiling -grimly at her joke. "Or else, if you don't want to do that, take -yourself out of this as quick as you can, Will Newell, and get ready! -Hark! There's the bell this minute. You've fixed it all right with Nan?"</p> - -<p>"All right!" panted Will. "I've got the team hid away where you said, in -the old cow-shed. Now I'll<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> go and fix me; and maybe we will have the -reel, Miss Pool, if you'll have it early enough on the programme. I -won't promise to wait for you, though, more'n the first half of the -evening."</p> - -<p>He ran out, his eyes shining with joy; and Miss Bethesda folded her -white mitts again, and waited calmly for the first guests.</p> - -<p>The clock struck seven, and Miss Bethesda glanced up again. It was a -wonderful clock, this of the old Inn. More than a hundred years it had -hung there, having been brought over from England by Gran'ther Pool, -before he lost his money and took to keeping the Inn. Its dial and frame -were gayly painted with dancing figures, with garlands of flowers, from -which peeped laughing faces of loves and fairies. The great weights that -hung against the wall were curious, too,—dolphin-shaped, like the -door-latches, and shining with remnants of gilding. And now, following -closely on the seventh stroke, came notes of music, faint, rustling -notes, the very spirit of sound; a waltz, sweet and delicate as the tiny -faces that peeped from the painted garlands on its dial, faltered forth -from the old clock: "Tra-la-la, lira-la, la-la!—" and between the notes -of the swinging measure the wheels creaked and groaned, and the wires -wheezed, and the weights lamented as they slid up and down. "Just like -any other old fool," thought Miss Bethesda, "doing things<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> she has no -business to!" and for a moment she felt as old as the clock, and -repented her of her purpose.</p> - -<p>But the guests were here! They had been gathering for some time in the -cloak-room, and now one couple had been bold enough to make the first -break, and the narrow staircase was crowded with maids and matrons, sons -and fathers, all in their best. Every eye glistened with eager -curiosity, every mouth was open to whisper in the next ear at anything -singular that should meet the eye when they came into their hostess's -presence; but lo and behold! there stood Bethesda Pool, looking as if -she had a party every week of her life, and had nothing in the world to -do but stand there and look fine.</p> - -<p>Very stately was the courtesy with which Miss Bethesda greeted her -guests. She was pleased to see them; hoped they would enjoy themselves, -and make themselves as much to home as if they <i>was</i> to home! This was -generally the extent of her conversation with any one group of eager -neighbours, before turning to welcome the next. But presently the colour -deepened a little in her still fresh cheek, and her eyes grew brighter; -for, coming up the ballroom, she saw the stalwart form of Buckstone -Bradford, with pretty Nan beside him, looking like roses and milk in her -white dress. "Knew he'd<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> come!" Miss Bethesda said to herself; and -immediately discovered, by the flutter at her heart, that she had not -known, but only hoped it.</p> - -<p>Truth to tell, Mr. Bradford had had a dozen minds about coming to -Bethesda Pool's party. He had never forgiven her for her treatment of -him twenty years before; his heart was of firm and tenacious fibre, and -retained the impression of affections and of injuries more than many a -softer organ. He considered Bethesda still the finest-looking woman in -the neighbourhood, and would have snorted with contempt if anyone had -told him that his daughter Nan, with her pink-and-white prettiness, was -fairer than ever his old sweetheart had been. But admiring was not -forgiving, and nothing would have brought Buckstone out to-night save -the dread of "goings-on" on the part of his girl and that -good-for-nothing Newell fellow.</p> - -<p>There was something in the air,—Buckstone did not know what it -was,—something that made him uneasy. Nan had been so meek the last time -he scolded her, never once standing up for her favourite, as she was -wont to do; she had been so affectionate, and,—well, she was always a -good girl when she wasn't making a fool of herself about a noodle; but -there was more than usual, her father thought. He didn't dare to let her -go alone to the party;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> there was the plain truth of it; he was afraid, -he knew not of what. So he had had his hair cut, and had taken out and -brushed his wedding coat, not without angry and defiant thoughts of her -who should have stood up with him when he wore it; and, briefly, here he -was, standing before Bethesda Pool, grim and forbidding, but still a -fine-looking man, his hostess thought, and towering head and shoulders -above everyone else in the room.</p> - -<p>"Good evening, Mr. Bradford! pleased to see you!"</p> - -<p>"Your servant, Miss Pool!" and it was over, and the mist began to clear -from Miss Bethesda's eyes, as she turned aside to ask the fiddler if he -was ready. The fiddler was ready, of course. He had been tuning his -fiddle for the last fifteen minutes, and his fingers were itching to -begin. Was he not a pupil of old Jacques de Arthenay, the famous fiddler -of the last generation? And had he not been shelved for the past ten -years, just because folks were fools enough to prefer an organ and a -cornet to the only instrument ordained of Heaven to make people dance! -So with right good-will he mounted the stool in the corner, and struck -up the "Lady of the Lake."</p> - -<p>How many years it was since that hall had rung to the sound of a fiddle! -Probably no one present<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> knew; but many, and especially the older ones, -or those who were cast in a sentimental mould, felt that there was -something ghostly in this first dance. People were a little timid, -perhaps; and their hostess, standing silent and stately in her stiff -brocade, was not the one to set them at their ease. It seemed to Miss -Selina Leaf as if, when the dancers took their places in the two long -lines, she heard the rustle of many gowns that were not seen in the -room; as if old, forgotten perfumes were wafted through the air, and -soft, subdued voices whispered courtly greetings at her side. She was -"littery," Miss Selina, and had written many "sweet things" for the -county weekly.</p> - -<p>But the "Lady of the Lake" is a robust and inspiring dance, and soon -banished all shadowy or sentimental thoughts from the minds of the -dancers. "Down the middle!" "Sashy to partners!" "Turn the same!" "Eight -hands round!"</p> - -<p>Soon eyes were sparkling and cheeks glowing like flame, and the young -feet went flying up and down the long, low room, as young feet will fly -when the fiddle sounds and the blood courses freely through the veins.</p> - -<p>Miss Bethesda Pool looked on with bright eyes, her foot (she had the -prettiest foot in the room, and knew it) tapping in time to the music. -She had refused<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> several invitations to dance, without a word, simply a -sniff of denial; but it was good to see a dance again.</p> - -<p>Will Newell was there, dancing with his cousin, the pasty-faced girl, -who would have money when her grandfather died: dancing dutifully, as if -the cousin were the only girl in the room, and not so much as glancing -toward where Nan Bradford, more rosy than ever, was footing it lightly -as a fairy, opposite young Jacob Flynt.</p> - -<p>Jacob was her father's choice for her, as everybody knew; and it was no -wonder that Buckstone Bradford looked cheerful and contented as he -leaned against the wall with folded arms, watching the dancers.</p> - -<p>Yes, Buckstone was contented for the moment; things were going just as -he wished to see them; and yet—so ungrateful a creature is man—he -could not help suspecting even his own satisfaction. What made Nan so -happy? When had anyone seen her look like this before when she had to -dance with Jacob Flynt? Was this duty or—or what?</p> - -<p>The "Lady of the Lake" was followed by the "Portland Fancy;" that by the -splendid romp of the "Tempest."</p> - -<p>Ah! these were dances! Happy the neighbourhood where the real dances, -the wreathing, linked garlands of grace and lightness and youth, still -form part of a ball! The waltz is pretty enough, when well done;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> but -who has not tired of the endless whirl of revolving couples, dual -teetotums, spinning round and round, till sight and brain are dizzy -alike? You shall not find, in painting or sculpture, any showing forth -of waltz or polka as Nature's expression of joy and motion. But what -Greek vase or tablet, what glowing canvas of Giorgione, or Veronese, but -might be glad to catch the rhythmic swing of the "Tempest," as the long -line wavers to and fro, and the bold dancers in the middle sweep down -the hall and back again,—to catch and fix it in immortal lines of -carving or of colour?</p> - -<p class="space-above">"Gents choose partners for 'Pop goes the Weasel!'"</p> - -<p>There had been an intermission, during which the hall had hummed like a -hive of vari-coloured bees. People were thoroughly at ease now, and -speech flowed freely, as the couples promenaded up and down.</p> - -<p>"A festive occasion, truly, Mr. Bumpus!" said Miss Selina Leaf, with -gentle dignity.</p> - -<p>"Bustin'! bustin'!" replied Mr. Bumpus, with effusion. "Haven't seen -such goin's on in the village, <i>I</i> d'no when! Does a person good to -limber out the j'ints once in a while; dancin's better than bar's grease -any day in the week! Haw! haw!"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p><p>Miss Selina considered this remark vulgar, and bridled gently, but made -no reply.</p> - -<p>"Surprisin' thing, too," Mr. Bumpus went on. "Bethesdy Pool—now, you'd -ha' said her dancin' days were over, if anyone had ha' asked you, -wouldn't you,—same as yours and mine?"</p> - -<p>Miss Selina winced again, and looked toward a seat, but the bold Bumpus -went on, unconscious.</p> - -<p>"We'd ha' said that, surely,—you and me; yet there she is, looking most -as young as the girls, I do maintain. Don't know as there's any manner -of use in gettin' old before you're obleeged ter; never enj'yed a 'Lady -of the Lake' more than I did that one with you, ma'am. What's that? 'Pop -goes the Weasel?' Now you don't mean to say! Why, I haint danced 'Pop -goes the Weasel!' since my Maria was a baby, and look at her dancin' it -with her husband! Reckon I must look up my woman and dance this with -her, or she'll be castin' up at you, Miss Selina; so if you'll excuse -<i>me</i>!—" and the good man bustled off, leaving Miss Selina rigid with -indignation.</p> - -<p>"Pop goes the Weasel!" It was an old dance, and had not been seen in the -village for years. Indeed, many of the lads and lasses had never seen -it, and looked about them at a loss, as the lively strains struck up, -notes whose shrill gayety made even the "Tempest" seem quiet by -comparison. But the older men<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> and women cast glances at each other, -half-shy, half-pleased. This was renewing old times with a vengeance! -Many a husband followed the example of Israel Bumpus, and led out the -choice of his youth, flattering himself that she "stood it as well as -any of 'em," while mature spinsters settled themselves elaborately in -their seats, with an air of never having heard of the old-fashioned -dance,—unless some one came to ask them for it, in which case memory -became suddenly refreshed, and they stood up with right good-will.</p> - -<p>Now it happened that in happier days this had been the favourite dance -of Miss Bethesda Pool, and that her favourite partner in it had been -Buckstone Bradford. She could not keep back a start when the well-known -air was played with all its old fire; and for the life of her, it -seemed, she could not help looking across the hall at Buckstone, where -he stood, leaning stiffly against the wall. He was looking at her, of -course: somehow, she knew he would be. Their eyes met; and perhaps -neither of them knew exactly what happened next. Before Mr. Bradford had -time to collect his thoughts, he found himself bowing his stiff back -before Bethesda Pool. "My dance, I believe!" he said, shortly; and -though Miss Bethesda knew it was nothing of the kind, she could not find -breath to say so. She looked up, she looked down;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> and the next moment, -to the amazement of everybody, the two old sweethearts took their places -at the head of the line.</p> - -<p>Now Will Newell had been growing uneasy during the last half-hour. He -had hardly had a chance to speak to Nan, yet had managed to make her -understand that all was ready, and that when he gave the word she was to -take her life in her hand and fly with him. But when could he give the -word? Bradford's eyes had hardly left his daughter's figure all the -evening; he followed her up and down the lines of dancers, frowning -heavily if Will happened to be near her in the dance, stolidly content -if her neighbour were young Jacob Flynt. What was Will to do? The horse -would be getting uneasy, and the moon would be setting before long. He -must get rid of old Bradford, somehow!</p> - -<p>Suddenly, hardly able to believe his eyes, he saw his tormentor fairly -turn his back on Nan: saw him cross the room, saw him bend before Miss -Bethesda, saw him standing up to dance. Now! now was the chance! In an -instant Will had forced his way before Jacob Flynt, who was just about -to lead Nan out for the dance. "You're engaged to me for this, you know, -Nan," said this unblushing young fellow; and he drew her arm under his -with a quick, masterful gesture. "But—but—but she promised me!" cried -poor Jacob, who stammered a little.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p><p>"Oh, go to Tinkham!" said Will, alluding disrespectfully to the next -township; and he led off his trembling Nan in triumph.</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>"All around the cobbler's shop</div> -<div class="i1">The monkey chased the weasel;</div> -<div>That's the way the money goes,—</div> -<div class="i1"><i>Pop!</i> goes the weasel!"</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>The fiddle says "Pop!" as plainly as the ridiculous doggerel; and at the -word, two of the three who have been swinging round together lift their -arms, and the third goes "<i>pop!</i>" under and rises to confront the next -couple: more tiptoe swaying, balancing to this one, chassez-ing to that -one; then three hands round, and "<i>pop!</i>" goes the weasel again; and so -on down the whole room, in the prettiest, merriest, most enchanting -dance of them all. But this is engrossing, I would have you know. When -one is popping every third minute, and balancing and swinging during the -other two, it is difficult, it is impossible, to keep a sharp lookout on -two persons who are popping at the other end of the dance. Half of -Buckstone Bradford, the worst half, was having a sad time of it, trying -to see over his shoulder and behind his back; but the other half, the -one that had asked Miss Bethesda to dance, ah! that half was enjoying -itself as it had not done for years. How she danced! as pat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> to the -music as fiddle to bow! How small her hand looked, just as it used to -look, lying in his big brown palm! How—now, where in time were those -pesky young ones?</p> - -<p>For lo! a thing had happened. At the last triumphant "<i>pop!</i>" of the -weasel, there had been another pop through the little door at the -farther end of the hall; and by this time, Miss Bethesda calculated, -Will and Nan must have reached the foot of the back stairs, and be -flying across the kitchen on their way to the outer door and safety. She -drew a long breath, and turned to her companion, trying to keep the -light of triumph out of her eyes. Bradford had stopped short, setting -the dancers all astray; he looked around the room, seeking the -delinquents; his heavy brows met, his face grew scarlet. Yes, Miss -Bethesda knew he would be proper mad! But now he turned, and fixed his -eyes on her with relentless scrutiny; another moment, and with a roar -like a wild animal, he darted in pursuit.</p> - -<p>The fiddler, who had learned more things than fiddling from old De -Arthenay, put out his foot, hoping to trip up the angry man; but, heavy -as he was, Bradford leaped aside like a deer, and the next instant he -was in the outer hall, and Bethesda Pool after him.</p> - -<p>"Buckstone," she cried, "wait just a minute, and I'll tell you!"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p><p>But he turned on her savagely.</p> - -<p>"I'll see to you afterwards, Bethesda Pool!" he cried, furiously. "You -won't make me lose time, I can tell you! Think I don't remember the old -short cut? Stand out of the way, or I shall do ye a hurt, and I don't -want to do that!"</p> - -<p>"Buckstone!" cried Miss Bethesda again; but this time the big man, -without another word, lifted her away from the doorway in which she had -placed herself, and rushed on.</p> - -<p>"He's forgotten," said Miss Bethesda to herself; "he's forgotten, and I -didn't tell him. He might—" she caught her breath, for there came the -sound of a crash, and then a heavy fall. "Lord, forgive me!" she cried. -"He's found it, sure enough, and like t' ha' killed himself."</p> - -<p>"It" meant the old trap-door in the room that was formerly used by the -Freemasons. Many and many a time had she and Buckstone explored it in -childish days, and played prisoner under it, and come up through it in -all manner of costume and disguise. He ought to have known the room as -well as he knew his own hand. Was it her fault that he had forgotten, in -his blind rage? But—but she had seen him rush into the room, and she -had not warned him.</p> - -<p>"Buckstone, be you hurt?" she cried, leaning over<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> the dark hole in the -floor. She listened, and heard strange sounds from below,—grunts and -groans, mingled with unscriptural language.</p> - -<p>She drew a long breath. "I knew 'twasn't deep enough to hurt him real -bad," she said. "Provided he can cuss, I guess he's all right."</p> - -<p>She listened again, inclining her ear this time toward the outer door, -and she heard the clear jingle of sleigh-bells and the swish of a -sleigh, as it swept out of the yard and away over the snowy road. Again -Miss Bethesda breathed deep. "That's a good hearin'," she murmured; "but -I <i>am</i> sorry for Buckstone!</p> - -<p>"Be you hurt?" she asked again, bending once more over the hole.</p> - -<p>"I'll let you know whether I'm hurt or not!" muttered Buckstone from -below. "Once let me get out of this, and I'll be even with you, Bethesda -Pool!"</p> - -<p>"Will!" said Miss Bethesda, in her calmest tone. "Well, I must be going, -Mr. Bradford. I'll send Iry to help you out. I <i>am</i> surprised, though, -at you forgettin', after as many times as you've ben down that hole!"</p> - -<p>Mr. Bradford's reply did little credit to him as a church-member, and -Miss Bethesda, after calling her man and giving him certain directions, -returned to her guests in the dancing-hall.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p><p>People were looking for her with some curiosity. The news of Will's -departure with Nan had spread, and when they saw Buckstone Bradford rush -from the room, followed closely by their hostess, there was a good deal -of suppressed excitement, but no one dared to follow; you might take -liberties with some folks, but Bethesda Pool was not one of them. And, -after all, she and Buck Bradford knew each other like two old shoes, if -they hadn't spoken for fifteen years; and what they—the guests—were -here for was a good time, so when the fiddler struck up the "Chorus -Jig," most of the dancers took the floor, leaving only a few of the most -curious to watch the door, and speculate what was going on behind it. -But now the little door opened, and here was Miss Pool again, calm and -unruffled, folding her mitted hands, and looking as if she had never -heard of such a thing as a runaway couple.</p> - -<p>"Why, Bethesdy!" said Mrs. Minchin, taking the freedom of an old -schoolmate, "we thought you was lost, for sure, goin' off with Mr. -Bradford that way!"</p> - -<p>"Did!" replied Miss Bethesda. "Please take your partners to go down to -supper!"</p> - -<p class="space-above">The guests, with one exception, were gone. The lights were out in the -long ballroom, and the old clock resumed its solitary sway, thankful -that the noisy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> scraping of the fiddle was over. As Miss Bethesda closed -the door behind her the clock struck two, and softly, timidly, stole -forth the notes of the fairy waltz, as elves, waiting for their forest -revels, might steal from their hiding-places when the clumsy foot of man -has ceased to echo in their sacred green places. "La-la-la, la-lira-la!" -and who could tell what gentle ghosts were now gliding forward in the -dance?</p> - -<p>But Miss Bethesda never thought of ghosts. She had to lay a spirit, it -was true, but there was little of ghostly about it.</p> - -<p>Perhaps she felt some trepidation at the thought of what was before her, -and as she listened to Iry's muttered words concerning the mental status -of the one guest remaining in the Inn. But she gave no sign, only told -Iry to go to bed, and leave his door open, in case she should want to -call him.</p> - -<p>She took a tray, and covering it with one of her finest napkins, -proceeded to lay out a dainty supper, such as she well knew how to -prepare. What had Buckstone liked best, in the old times? She guessed a -little of that lobster salad would be about right, and half-a-dozen -rolls, feathery and unsubstantial as baked morning cloud; then a -whip,—he always liked a tall whip, with raspberry jam at the bottom! -and a slice of plum-cake, and,—well, a glass of cherry-brandy might do -no harm, if they <i>were</i> both temperance folks.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> He'd be some tired, -likely, raging and routing round the way he had been, from what Iry -said. And so Miss Bethesda, like the bold woman she was, unlocked the -sitting-room door, and entered the lion's den.</p> - -<p>She expected a rush, and held her tray firmly; but no rush came. The -lion was sitting huddled up in a great chair, with his foot on another -chair before him. At first Miss Bethesda thought he was asleep; but -catching the sombre glare of his dark eyes, she set the tray down -carefully, and faced her guest with folded hands and apparent composure.</p> - -<p>"How are you feeling, Mr. Bradford?" she asked, seeing, with some -compunction, how pale he was.</p> - -<p>"My leg is broke!" was the grim reply, "and I'm injured some inside, -most probably bleeding; but otherwise I'm well, Miss Pool, and much -obleeged to <i>you</i>!"</p> - -<p>"You're welcome!" said Bethesda, with a flash; and then she went down on -her knees, and manipulated him skilfully.</p> - -<p>"Your leg isn't broke!" she announced, cheerfully; "but you have got a -leetle sprain into your ankle, Buck,—I should say Mr. Bradford,—and -it's some considerable swoll up. You'd better let me bathe it for ye, -and then have a bit of supper, and then you can lay right down on the -l'unge here, and rest ye till morning. You'll be all right by then, I -calc'late, and able to git you home,—with a stick!"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p><p>The last thrust was pure malice, and the big man winced; but not -altogether at thought of the stick or the sprained ankle.</p> - -<p>"I've got no home," he said; "thanks to you, Bethesda Pool! You've seen -that my girl got off safe with that good-for-nothin' feller, and that's -the last of any home for me! I hope it's done ye good!"</p> - -<p>"It has so!" replied Miss Bethesda, rubbing the ankle briskly with her -favourite liniment. "A sight o' good it's done me, Mr. Bradford, and I -hope 'twill do you good, too, some day!"</p> - -<p>"May I ask," Buckstone continued, grimly, glowering down on the little -woman, as she knelt beside him, "why you felt called to make or meddle -in my affairs, Miss Bethesda Pool?"</p> - -<p>"You may!" said Miss Bethesda, looking up with fire in her eye. "Your -girl, pretty creetur, come cryin' to me the other day, and told me all -about how you was treating her, Buckstone Bradford; and 'twas a shame, -and you know it was! There's nothing in this world against Will Newell, -well you know! He's a church-member, and he's well thought of by all -that's acquainted with him. You didn't like his father, because you -thought I,—because you thought things about him that there was no -occasion for thinking, and he killed in the war afterwards and all; and -that's all the reason, save<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> and except that you are a greedy grab-all, -Buckstone Bradford, and don't want your girl to do anything all her days -'cept wait on you! That's the living truth, and you know it as well as I -do! Hurt ye, did I? Well, I'm sorry for that, but if I could hurt your -mind instead of your ankle, I should be pleased to death! I can speak -when I've a mind to, if they do call me a dummy; and I'm speaking to you -now, Buckstone, and don't you forget it! You've been acting mean and -selfish and greedy, and every right-thinking person in this village is -disgusted with you, clean through to the ground! So, now! And I helped -them children off for pure pleasure, so I did, and for love of seeing -young things happy, if I aint ben happy myself! Not that that's here or -there. I planned this party for it, and laid out consid'able money, and -set every tongue in the village clacking till they e'enamost dropped -off, and a mighty good thing, too, if they had! and I sent for Will -Newell, and showed him where he could hitch his hoss, and how he could -git his girl off the quickest and the safest. You was pretty spry, -Buckstone, but you wouldn't ha' caught 'em, even if you hadn't—if you -hadn't have fell down the Tumplety Hole. And—and that's what I did, and -glad clean through to my back-comb that I done it, and would do it again -the fust time I got a chance!"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p><p>Miss Bethesda paused for breath, and bound up the lame ankle, wrapping -it in fold on fold of cool linen. She expected thunders of reply, but -Buckstone Bradford was silent.</p> - -<p>There was a long pause, during which the coals tinkled in the grate and -the frost cracked and snapped outside.</p> - -<p>At length,—"The Tumplety Hole!" he said, musingly. "Yes, that was it! I -was trying to think what we used to call it, and I couldn't bring the -name to mind. The Tumplety Hole, sure enough! And you come up through -it, one day, dressed in a white gown with silver trimmin's,—"</p> - -<p>"That I found in the old trunk up garret!" put in Miss Bethesda.</p> - -<p>"And flowers in your hair!" Bradford went on. "I thought you looked the -slickest of anything I ever saw, then, Bethesda; and—well, I don't know -but I think so still."</p> - -<p>"Foolishness!" said Miss Bethesda, rising and wiping her hands. "Have a -bit o' supper, now, Buckstone, do!"</p> - -<p>"No, I couldn't eat," said the big man, drawing his hand slowly across -his brow. "I couldn't eat your victuals, Bethesda, and have you thinkin' -of me the way you—you said. It's all true, it seems born in on me to -feel. I've done a good bit o'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> thinkin', sittin' here alone. I never -realized it before, but the fact seems to be that I've been a hog, and -bein' so, I can't sit down with no lady and eat her victuals, you see."</p> - -<p>"Foolishness!" said Miss Bethesda again, looking rather discomposed. -"You mustn't think too much of what I said, Buckstone. Mebbe I spoke too -hash—"</p> - -<p>"Oh, you spoke out!" said the man. "Needn't ever anybody tell me that -Bethesda Pool can't open her head. When them waters is troubled, there's -no mistake about their movin'; I knowed that before. You spoke out once -before to me, Bethesda, and the sound of it stays with me yet. There! I -guess I'll be goin'. You said you'd lend me a stick, did ye?"</p> - -<p>"Good Isick!" cried Miss Bethesda, standing up to bar his way, in real -distress. "Buckstone, you can't go out in this cold in the middle of the -night, and with your ankle that way. You'll ketch your death. Stop where -you be, like a sensible man, and have some supper with me!"</p> - -<p>"S'pose I do ketch my death!" said Buckstone; "aint no one to care, that -I know of. Nan's gone, and there's no one else, is there, Bethesda?"</p> - -<p>"Good Isick!" cried Miss Bethesda again, and wrung her hands in sheer -desperation. Whither were they drifting?</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p><p>"If I thought—" Buckstone Bradford was speaking again, slowly this -time, the anger clean gone out of him, but with an earnestness that -shook his deep voice, and made the brave little woman before him -tremble, and her cheek flush as it had not done for many a day—</p> - -<p>"If I thought there <i>was</i> anyone that cared what become of me; if I -thought there was anyone that was willing to let bygones be bygones, -seeing that I've cared for that person all my life, since—since first -we knew there was a Tumplety Hole in that room; if I thought there was -anyone who knew she could fetch out all the good there was in me,—in -old "Gruff and Grum,"—and that knew best of anyone how much good there -was to be fetched—why—if there <i>was</i> any such person, I'd sit down to -that table the proudest man in the wide world, and the happiest! -But—but—I don't suppose there is, do you, Bethesda?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, my gracious land of deliverance!" cried Miss Bethesda, fairly -beside herself. "I—I—don't know as there is, Buckstone, and—and -yet—I don't know <i>but</i> there is! But do, for gracious sake, sit down, -whatever way it is, and eat your supper like a Christian man!"</p> - -<p>And Buckstone sat down.</p> - -<p> </p> -<p> </p> -<hr class="pg" /> -<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JIM OF HELLAS, OR IN DURANCE VILE; THE TROUBLING OF BETHESDA POOL***</p> -<p>******* This file should be named 52068-h.htm or 52068-h.zip *******</p> -<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> -<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/5/2/0/6/52068">http://www.gutenberg.org/5/2/0/6/52068</a></p> -<p> -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed.</p> - -<p>Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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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Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition.</p> - -<p>Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org</p> - -<p>This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.</p> - -</body> -</html> - diff --git a/old/52068-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/52068-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 2da4ff2..0000000 --- a/old/52068-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/52068-h/images/idecrule.jpg b/old/52068-h/images/idecrule.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 04bb8ca..0000000 --- a/old/52068-h/images/idecrule.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/52068-h/images/titlepage.jpg b/old/52068-h/images/titlepage.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 5fa81cc..0000000 --- a/old/52068-h/images/titlepage.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/52068.txt b/old/52068.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 3e96682..0000000 --- a/old/52068.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2009 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook, Jim of Hellas, or In Durance Vile; The -Troubling of Bethesda Pool, by Laura Elizabeth Howe Richards - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - - -Title: Jim of Hellas, or In Durance Vile; The Troubling of Bethesda Pool - - -Author: Laura Elizabeth Howe Richards - - - -Release Date: May 14, 2016 [eBook #52068] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JIM OF HELLAS, OR IN DURANCE VILE; -THE TROUBLING OF BETHESDA POOL*** - - -E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Martin Pettit, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images -generously made available by Internet Archive/American Libraries -(https://archive.org/details/americana) - - - -Note: Images of the original pages are available through - Internet Archive/American Libraries. See - https://archive.org/details/jimofhellasorind00richiala - - -Transcriber's note: - - Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). - - Text enclosed by plus signs is in bold face (+bold+). - - - - - -JIM OF HELLAS - -THE TROUBLING OF BETHESDA POOL - - - * * * * * * - -_Books by Laura E. Richards._ - -"Mrs. Richards has made for herself a little niche apart in the literary -world, from her delicate treatment of New England village -life."--_Boston Post._ - - -+JIM OF HELLAS; or, IN DURANCE VILE+, and a companion story, +BETHESDA -POOL+. 16mo, 50 cents. - -+MARIE.+ 16mo, 50 cents. - -"Seldom has Mrs. Richards drawn a more irresistible picture, or framed -one with more artistic literary adjustment."--_Boston Herald._ - -"A perfect literary gem."--_Boston Transcript._ - -+NARCISSA+, and a companion story, +IN VERONA+. 16mo, cloth, 50 cents. - -"Each is a simple, touching, sweet little story of rustic New England -life, full of vivid pictures of interesting character, and refreshing -for its unaffected genuineness and human feeling."--_Congregationalist._ - -"They are the most charming stories ever written of American country -life."--_New York World._ - -+MELODY.+ The Story of a Child. 16mo, cloth, 50 cents. - -"Had there never been a 'Captain January,' 'Melody' would easily take -first place."--_Boston Times._ - -"The quaintly pretty, touching, old-fashioned story is told with perfect -grace; the few persons who belong to it are touched in with distinctness -and with sympathy."--_Milwaukee Sentinel._ - -+SAME.+ _Illustrated Holiday Edition._ With thirty half-tone pictures -from drawings by Frank T. Merrill. 4to, cloth, $1.25. - -+CAPTAIN JANUARY.+ 16mo, cloth, 50 cents. - -A charming idyl of New England coast life, whose success has been very -remarkable. One reads it, is thoroughly charmed by it, tells others, and -so its fame has been heralded by its readers, until to-day it is selling -by the thousands, constantly enlarging the circle of its delighted -admirers. - -+SAME.+ _Illustrated Holiday Edition._ With thirty half-tone pictures -from drawings by Frank T. Merrill. 4to, cloth, $1.25. - -+WHEN I WAS YOUR AGE.+ 4to, cloth, gilt top, $1.25. - -The title most happily introduces the reader to the charming home-life -of Dr. Howe and Mrs. Julia Ward Howe during the childhood of the author. - -+GLIMPSES OF THE FRENCH COURT.+ Sketches from French History. -Illustrated with a series of portraits in etching and photogravure. -Square 12mo, cloth, $1.50. - -With true literary touch, she gives us the story of some of the salient -figures of this remarkable period. - -+NAUTILUS.+ A very interesting story, with illustrations; uniquely -bound, small quarto, 75 cents. - -+FIVE MINUTE STORIES.+ A charming collection of short poems and clever -stories for children. - - -_Estes & Lauriat, Publishers, Boston._ - - * * * * * * - - - -JIM OF HELLAS - -Or, In Durance Vile - -BETHESDA POOL - -by - -LAURA E. RICHARDS - -Author of "Captain January," "Melody," "Queen Hildegarde," -"Five-Minute Stories," "When I Was Your Age," -"Narcissa," "Marie," "Nautilus." - -Tenth Thousand - - - - - - - -Boston -Estes and Lauriat -1895 - -Copyright, 1895, -By Estes & Lauriat -All rights reserved - -Typography and Printing by -C. H. Simonds & Co. -Electrotyping by Geo. C. Scott & Sons -Boston, U.S.A. - - - - - TO MY - - Dear Brother, - - HENRY MARION HOWE, - - THIS VOLUME - - IS AFFECTIONATELY - - DEDICATED. - - - - -JIM OF HELLAS. - - - - -Part I. - - -Everyone knows the Island; it is not necessary to name it. With its -rolling downs, its points, its ponds, its light-houses, and above all, -its town,--who does not know the Island? Some day I shall write a story -about the downs, the billowy acres of gold on russet, russet on gold, -wonderful to see,--but this story is about the town. - -The town has its nominal government, like other towns; its selectmen, -and its town-meeting, and other like machinery; but everybody knows that -the real seat of government lies in the Upper House. The meetings of -this republican House of Lords are held in the best room of -"Bannister's," the one inn of the town. It is a pleasant, roomy old -structure, built in the Island fashion, with wide windows and plenty of -them, and with a railed platform on its flat-topped roof, from which, in -former days, the women of the house used to watch for the coming of the -whaling-fleet. - -There is little watching now on the Island. No ships come into that -wonderful harbour, once thronged with sails. The great wharves rot -silently and fall apart; a few old hulks rot quietly beside them. Two or -three fishing-smacks, a coal-schooner or two,--these are all one sees -now from the roof or the windows of Bannister's. - -But the men who sit together in the upper room still look out of the -windows a great deal, because from them they can see the harbour, and -beyond it the sea; and the sea is what they love best to look at, for -the greater part of their lives has been spent on it. Old -sea-captains,--it needs but one glance to tell of what the Upper House -is composed: Men with faces that might have been carved out of mahogany, -wrinkled and seamed and beaten into strange lines by wind and weather; -with gray or white hair, for the most part, and shaggy beards, yet with -keen, bright eyes which are used to looking, and, what is not always the -same thing, to seeing what they look at. - -Though most of them go to sea no more, they keep with care their -sea-going aspect; they wear pea-jackets with huge horn buttons, heavy -sea-boots, and never fail to don their sou'westers in bad weather. The -room in which they sit is well suited to them. On the broad window-seats -lie spy-glasses and telescopes of all kinds. The walls are hung with -sea-trophies. - -Here is a piece of plank transfixed by the sharp blade of a sword-fish; -there, a pair of walrus-tusks; there, again, the beautiful horn of the -narwhal, like a wonderful lance of ivory, fit weapon for King Olaf or -Eric the Red. In the doorway stands a whale's jaw, a great arch ten feet -high, under which all must pass with thoughts of Jonah. As for corals -and shells, there is no end to them, for the upper room is a museum as -well as a place of convention, and here the captains love to bring their -choicest treasures, keeping only the second-best to adorn the -chimney-piece of the home-parlour. - -In a great arm-chair, facing a seaward window, sits the patriarch of the -Upper House, old Abram Bannister. His grandfather had built the inn -itself, his grandsons now keep it. Every morning, winter and summer, -Jake and Bill "hist" the old captain out of bed, put him in his chair, -and wheel him into the great room; then they give him a spy-glass to -hold in his hand, and leave him till dinner-time. The captains begin to -straggle in about eight o'clock, when their morning chores are done. -They greet the white old man with never-failing cordiality; he is the -pride of the Upper House. They are never tired of asking him how old he -is, nor of hearing him reply in his feeble, cheery pipe,-- - -"Ninety-nine year, and risin' a hundred." - -He sleeps a good deal of the day, and, on waking, never fails to cry -out, "Thar' she blows!" - -Whereupon, one of the captains promptly replies, "Where away?" and the -patriarch says,-- - -"Weather bow!" and straightway forgets all about it, and plays with his -spy-glass. - -When the captains are assembled in sufficient number, they discuss the -affairs of the town, talk over this or that question, and decide what -the "_se_-leckmen" ought to do about it. - -Woe to the selectmen who should dare to oppose the decision of the Upper -House! Something dreadful would happen to them; but, as they never have -opposed it, one cannot tell what form the punishment would take. - -Now it fell, on a day, that the captains were sitting together spinning -yarns, as was their custom when business was over. The present and the -immediate future provided for, it was their delight to plunge into the -past, and bring up the marvellous treasures hidden in that great sea. -Captain Zeno Pye was telling about the loss of the "Sabra" in the year -1807. His father had been on the vessel, and Captain Zeno sometimes -forgot that it was not himself, so often had he told the story. The -other captains, sitting like so many veiled prophets, each shrouded in -his cloud of smoke, listened with the placid enjoyment of connoisseurs, -making a mental note of any slightest variation of word or inflection in -the familiar narrative. Any one of them could have told it in his sleep, -but it was Captain Zeno's story, and it was one of the unwritten laws of -the Upper House that no captain should tell another's story. - -"So," said Captain Zeno,--he was a little walnut-faced man, with sharp -black eyes, and a dry and rasping utterance,--"so they was makin' good -sailin' with a fair wind, on the 18th day of October, when all of a -suddent the lookout sung out--" - -"Thar she blows!" broke in Captain Abram, in his piping treble. - -"Where away?" responded Captain Silas Riggs, promptly. - -"Weather bow!" said the old man, and fell silent again. All looked at -Captain Zeno, who smiled appreciatively. - -"Won'erful, aint it?" he said, meditatively. "He knows that pint, Cap'n -Abram does, as well as I do. Wal, as I was sayin', they struck a school -o' whales, on the weather bow, sure enough; sperms they was, and -likely-lookin' fur as they could see. Three boats put off, and my -father, bein' mate at that time, had one of 'em. He sighted a -sixty-barrel bull, and was pullin' for him for dear life, when an old -cow come by with her calf, and when she saw the boat she dove, and one -eend o' the fluke struck 'em amidships, and stove a hole in 'em. Wal! -that kerwumpussed 'em, ye see! Nothin' for it but to pull back to the -ship, and set to work on repairs. My father called the carpenters, and -give 'em their job, an' then he looked after the school, and cussed a -little, mebbe, for all he was a perfessor, to think he was losin' all -the fun. All of a suddent he seed a whale leave the school, turn round, -and make straight for the ship. He didn't think nothin' of it, 'cept he -see 'twas the biggest bull his eyes had ever come across. Big? Wal!' -Twas like a island, Father used to say. He'd heerd tell of -two-hundred-and-thirty-barrel whales along back in the seventeens, and -he calc'lated this might be one of 'em left over. He see the critter was -comin' pooty nigh, and he sung out for a harpoon, thinkin' he might git -a shy, after all; when, lo ye! that whale took a start an' come through -the water like a shot out of a gun, and struck the ship just forrard of -the forechains. - -"Wal, sir, they was knocked consid'able eendways, I tell ye! Father was -dumfoundered for a minute, and the ship's crew with him, what with the -surprise on't, and the everlastin' shakin' it giv 'em, too. But Father -never let his wits go without a string tied to 'em, and in a minute he -ordered all hands to the pumps, to see if she had sprung a-leak. She -hed, sir; she was sinkin'; and Father run up the sign for the boats to -come back. He turned round from runnin' up that signal, and you may call -me a Jerseyman if the whale wasn't comin' for 'em agin, head on and all -sails drawin'! Before Father could sing out, he struck 'em again, pooty -nigh the same place, with a crash that sent every man-jack sprawlin' on -his face. Wal, sir, 'twas boats then, I can tell ye, and no time to -lose, neither! Th' other boats kem back and took 'em aboard, and in five -minutes' time the 'Sabry' down with her nose and up with her heels, and -down she went to Davy. Yes, sir! That's what you might call--" - -At this moment the captain was interrupted by a knock at the door. He -looked displeased, but said "Come aboard!" with as good a grace as he -could; while the other captains turned cheerfully in the direction of -the knocker, who might bring them something new in place of a -many-times-told tale. - -A lank, ungainly man entered, and stood timidly on one foot, with his -mouth open, holding the door in his hand. - -"Come aboard!" repeated Captain Zeno, impatiently. "Shet the door! Say -yer say with yer mouth, and then shet that,--if ye can get it all to at -onc't!" he added, in an undertone. - -The ungainly man looked slowly round the room, and stroked his -lantern-jaws. "That man!" he said, deliberately, lingering on each word -as if it were too precious to part with, "what be I to do with him?" - -The captains looked at one another. They had been speaking of this -matter only a few minutes before, but they feigned unconsciousness. - -"What man do you mean, Sefami Bunt?" asked Captain Zeno, severely. "The -prisoner who was caught stealin' hens from Palmyry Henshaw last week?" - -The man nodded. "Says he wants somethin' to do!" he said. "Says he'd -like to do chores round for his victuals. Says he doesn't like my -victuals." - -The captains chuckled. Sefami Bunt was a bachelor, and his housekeeping -was not supposed to be of a high order. - -"Have ye got him in the jail?" asked Captain Asy Bean. - -The lantern-jawed man shifted uneasily to the other foot. "Wal, I hev!" -he admitted. "But he doesn't seem to be contented with that." Then, -after a pause, "I brung him with me. 'T want safe to leave him, for the -jail door sags so I can't lock it, and the chain is bust. So 'f you'd -like to see him for yerselves--" - -"Where is he?" asked the captains in chorus. - -Sefami Bunt gave a backward jerk with his head. "I tied him to the leg -o' the table," he said. "The boys is mindin' of him. Sh'll I fetch him -up?" - -Receiving an affirmative answer, he disappeared, and returned, dragging -the prisoner by the collar. - -The latter, the instant he caught sight of the assembly of mariners, -shook off his keeper with a single movement; then, making his obeisance -in true seaman fashion, he glanced quickly round the room, and stood -still, cap in hand, in an attitude of respectful humility. - -He was a short, thick-set man, evidently of great strength; a sailor, -every inch of him, from the gold rings in his ears to the way he set his -feet down. Jet-black curls clustered about his brown, smiling face. His -dark eyes were alive with intelligence and humour. His open shirt -displayed a neck elaborately tattooed, while hands and wrists were a -museum of anchors, hearts and crosses. - -"Will you speak to him, Cap'n Bean?" said one or two of the other -captains in low tones. - -"Wal, I don't want to be settin' myself up," replied Captain Asy, "but -if it's the wish"--he glanced round the circle, and ascertained that it -was the wish. Whereupon, clearing his throat and assuming a quarter-deck -frown, he asked, in majestic tones, "What is your name, prisoner?" - -The dark eyes looked intelligence. "Name, honourable captains? Giorgios -Aristides Evangelides Paparipopoulos." - -"Great Andes!" exclaimed Captain Asy. "We've got the whole archipelago, -and no mistake. What do they _call_ ye? Hey?" - -"Ah!"--the brown face flashed into a bewildering smile, an ivory -revelation. "Call me? Jim!" - -The captains breathed again. - -"That's more civilized!" said Captain Asy. "Now, you Jim, what have you -got to say for yourself?" - -It appeared that Jim had a great deal to say for himself. He was not -happy, he must inform the honourable captains. He complained of his -quarters, of his jailer, of his fare. He had, it was true, stolen a hen, -being very hungry and having no money to seek the so honourable hotel. -The hen was almost uneatable, but--he had stolen her. He had been -condemned to three months' imprisonment in the jail, and it was well. -But--here he waxed eloquent, pathetic. "I haf been in jail, honourable -captains, before. Never for great offence, but--I have been. But never -like zis! Ze rain come in upon my bed. I try to shut ze door, for ze -wind blow at me, but he not shut. I sleep, and ze ship come in ze door -and eat me." - -"Hold on there!" said Captain Asy. "What do you mean by that? Hey? Ship -come in the door?" - -"Yes, honourable captain; t'ree gre't big ship. I hear 'baa! baa!' I -wake suddainlee, and zey are eat my foot." - -"Sheep, he means!" the jailer explained. "The' warnt but two, I guess. -Fact, they got a way o' wand'rin' int' the jail, but they wouldn't ha' -hurt him any. He's dretful skeered for one that's knocked about pooty -nigh the world over, from what he says." - -"But!" the prisoner maintained, turning a candid face upon the court; -"is it a jail--for ship to walk in and eat--what you say neeble--ze -foots of prisoners?" - -"No! no! 'taint!" "That's so!" "He's right, gentlemen!" came from the -assembled captains. - -"Zen," Jim continued, "ze mess! Salted backbone of hog--must I eat -always zis? Never for t'ree mont's ozer sing? Honourable captains, I -die." - -"Wal!" said Sefami Bunt, with a hint of bluster in his voice, "I guess -if backbone's good enough for me, it's good enough for him! 'Twas a good -hawg! and, anyway, I've got to use it!" - -"Sold the rest and salted down the backbone for yourself and prisoner?" -queried Captain Asy Bean. - -The jailer nodded, and repeated in an injured tone: - -"'Twas a good hawg! Anybody could ha' seen him fattenin' any time they -mind to pass by." - -"And I tell Mr. Bont,"--Jim resumed the thread of his narrative, smiling -apology around,--"I tell him, 'Let-a me go!' not ron avay, of course; I -cannot ron avay if I wish. It is island. I tell him 'Let-a me go and -work! I make ze door good; I mend ze windows; I do for ozer people work, -perhaps zey give me ozer mess.' Is it not?" with a sudden flash and -gleam of eyes and teeth. - -There was a short pause. "How did you come here, anyway?" queried -Captain Bije Tarbox. - -It appeared that Jim had fallen overboard from his vessel. It was night, -and his fall had not been noticed. Fortunately, the vessel was, even at -the moment, passing the Island. He was a good swimmer, used to being in -the water for a long time--briefly, behold him! He stole the hen. He was -taken, brought before the "selected gentlemen." That was his story. - -"Just step outside with Bunt a minute, my man," said Captain Asy Bean, -"and we'll settle your case." Then, as the door closed behind the -smiling criminal and his gloomy guardian, Captain Asy turned to the -others: - -"Gentlemen, this story may or may not be true. It sounds fishy; but, -anyhow, the man must have come from somewhere, and I d'no as it matters -much, s'long as he's here now. Question is, what to do with him now he -_is_ here. Just like them _se_leckmen, lettin' the jail go to rack an' -ruin, an' then clappin' a man in thar for the sheep to nibble." - -"Man's a seaman, anyhow," said Captain Bije Tarbox. "Ought t' ha' been -sent straight to us." - -"That's so!" assented the captains all. - -"Wal!" resumed Captain Asy, "'pears to me the straight thing is for us -to send for the _se_leckmen--they'll be goin' by to dinner direckly, an' -we can toll 'em in an' say to 'em--" - -"Thar she blows!" sang out Captain Abram. - -"Where away?" asked Captain Moses Packard. - -"Weather bow!" was the reply; and then the talk went on again. - - -Part II. - - -Palmyra Henshaw was sitting in her neat kitchen, with folded hands. The -kettle was singing cheerfully, the cat was purring contentedly by the -stove; but for once Miss Palmyra's mood did not chime in with the -singing or the purring. She had sprained her ankle the day before, and -it was now so painful, that, after dragging it about till her work was -"done up" (for, land sakes! she couldn't sit down in the dirt; and her -kitchen had to be cleaned up, if she did it on her hands and knees), she -was fain now to sit down and put the offending member up on a chair. - -She looked at the poor foot with great displeasure. It was badly -swollen; she had had to put on a green carpet slipper, one of an old -pair of her father's; and the contrast with her other foot, in its trim, -well-blacked shoe, was anything but pleasant. - -As she sat thus in silent discomfort, she heard the sound of the pump in -the yard. Somebody was working the handle up and down with firm, regular -strokes. - -"Well, what next?" said Miss Palmyra, fretfully, peering out of the -window and trying to gain a sight of the intruder. "I sh'd like to know -who's at that pump without askin' leave or license. I left the pail out -there, too, didn't I? Like as not it'll go, same as the hen did. I must -get up!"--she made a motion to rise, but sank back with a groan. "My -Land! Have I got to sit here and have my things stole without liftin' a -finger?" - -At the same moment she heard quick steps crossing the yard: the door -opened, and a man entered, carrying a brimming pail of water. Miss -Palmyra opened her mouth to shriek, but closed it again when the -stranger smiled. - -"Good eve!" said the man, who had black curls, gold rings in his ears, -and the brightest eyes that ever were seen. "I come to do ze work." - -"Work!" ejaculated Miss Palmyra, faintly. - -"Ze shores!" explained the man, with a brilliant flash of eyes and -teeth. "You have hurt ze foot? So peety! Look! I fill ze kettel--so! I -bring ze wood--so!" (He was gone, and back again with an armful of wood -before Miss Palmyra could trust her bewildered senses enough to know -whether she was awake or dreaming.) "I fill up ze stofe--so! And next? -It is a cow zat you haf? I milk her!" He swept a glance around the -kitchen, seized with unerring instinct the right pail, and was gone -again. - -Miss Palmyra pinched herself, and opened and shut her eyes several -times. - -"I wonder if I'm goin' crazy!" she said. "I feel kinder light-headed." - -She looked at the cat, who blinked quietly in return, and his calm air -of tranquillity steadied her nerves. "If he'd been a tramp, he wouldn't -ha' brought in that wood!" she said. "Would he, Eben?" The cat was named -Ebenezer. Ebenezer purred assurance, and Miss Palmyra's spirits rose. -"Like as not he's stayin' with some o' the neighbours!" she said. "Mis' -Brewster's real kind: mebbe this is her nephew she was expectin', and -she sent him in to help me. Well, I'm sure!" She twitched a little shawl -over the carpet-slipper, and settled her neat collar and apron. - -When the stranger returned, beaming over the brimming milk-pail, she was -able to greet him with "Well, you're real obligin', I must say. I didn't -hardly know what I should do about milkin', for I can't seem to put my -foot to the ground. Stayin' at Mis' Brewster's, be ye?" - -"No!" with a flash which illuminated the kitchen. "Not zere. Where he -live, ze milk? Zis door?" - -Miss Palmyra indicated the pantry door, where the yellow pans stood -ready and waiting. - -She listened keenly for a sound of spilling or dripping, but none came; -only a steady, even pouring. "He's a real good hand!" she murmured. - -"And now?" the dark eyes smiled on her again. "You lame, I get your -sopper. What you like?" - -"Oh,--no, sir, you can't do that!" cried Miss Palmyra. "I'm jist as -obliged, I assure _you_, but I sha'n't want nothin' more to-night. I had -a good dinner. Well, I'm sure!" - -She felt utterly helpless when the stranger, with another smile, -produced three eggs from his pocket, and taking a bowl, proceeded to -break the eggs into it and beat them with right good will. "When you -seeck, then you weak," he explained. "Most eat good sopper! I make!" - -In the twinkling of an eye the frying-pan was on the stove; and, while -it was heating, his keen black eyes spied a tray. Napkin, knife and fork -were arranged upon it with swift precision. Setting a plate to warm on -the back of the stove, he proceeded to do wonderful things with the -beaten eggs, tossing them about with a fork, stirring, seasoning, -tasting. This was done with the right hand, while the left was toasting -a slice of bread. All the time the black eyes were glancing here and -there, like darting sunbeams. Spying a string of onions, the stranger -pounced upon them. A morsel was torn off, shredded fine, and stirred -into the savoury mess. - -In five minutes such an omelette was smoking on the hot plate as Miss -Palmyra had never even dreamed of; and in one minute more it was beside -her on the little light-stand, and she was bidden "Eat! I make tea!" - -Now Miss Palmyra had _not_ had a good dinner, and she was desperately -hungry, and--oh! how good that omelette did smell! The toast was -perfect! - -Where had Mis' Brewster's nephew learned all this? And now, to crown -all, a cup of tea was set beside her,--hot, strong and fragrant. And -then-- - -"Please ze lady I also have a cup?" asked this astonishing person. The -tone was soft and pleading, the dark eyes deprecating, as if he were a -humble suitor, asking a royal boon. - -"Well, I should hope you could!" cried Miss Palmyra, hospitably. "The -idea! I don't see what I was thinking of, Mr.--_Is_ your name Brewster?" - -"No!" said the stranger, softly. "Name is Jim!" - -A good supper had Giorgios Aristides Evangelides Paparipopoulos, _alias_ -Jim, that night! There was more omelette than Miss Palmyra could -possibly eat, she declared; indeed, Jim had meant that there should be. -Then she told him where to find a certain loaf of spice cake, and a jar -of damson jam; and she insisted upon his eating till he could eat no -more. After a week of salted backbone of hog, Jim's appetite for these -good things was keen enough. - -He beamed with pleasure; his smiles made noonday in the darkening -kitchen: Miss Palmyra thought him uncommonly handsome. Only--it was a -pity he wore ear-rings. And, after all, who was he? She really must find -out. - -"You've never told me how you kem to know of my bein' lame!" she said, -as her guest was washing the dishes with careful nicety. "You a stranger -here, too! Who did send ye, if I'm not takin' a liberty?" - -"Ze honourable captains send me," said Jim, with open cheerfulness; "and -ze selected gentlemen." - -"Well, I'm sure!" ejaculated Miss Palmyra. - -"I steal your hen!" Jim explained, with winning grace. "Was very sorry; -should not have done--but! Now I work t'ree mont'; do shores for ladies; -do all works. But for you I work most, for I steal your hen. Is it not?" -And putting away the cups and saucers, he swept the hearth with ardour. - -"Well, I'm sure!" said Miss Palmyra again; and she really could not -think of anything else to say. - - -Everyone agreed that it was a special providence that Jim Popples (such -being the popular rendering of our hero's name) had been cast away on -the Island just when there was so much sickness "goin' about," and when -Aunt Ruhamy Snell, the accredited nurse of the Island, was laid up with -rheumatism The quick, active Greek was here, there and everywhere. He -split wood, he made fires, he milked cows. He mended chairs, and set -panes of glass; he kept all the children happy by plaiting wonderful -things out of twine, and whittling royal navies with his jackknife. - -He also mended up the jail as well as he could, and might be seen -patching the walls of his cell, whistling merrily, while the jailer sat -by in moody silence watching him. It was generally felt that Sefami Bunt -had not done as he ought by his prisoner, and that he really was not -fitted for the offices he held of jailer and hog-reeve; but, as Captain -Zeno Pye said, "thar warnt nothin' else Sefami _could_ do, and it kep' -him off the town, anyway." - -But Jim's best work, and his longest hours, were given to Miss Palmyra -Henshaw. She had freely forgiven him his theft of the hen, and in the -long period of inactivity to which she was now condemned (for if one -trifles with a sprained ankle, one is apt to pay for it, and it was a -month before she could do more than hobble about with a crutch), she -found him an invaluable friend. Morning, noon and night would see him -smiling at the door, with his cheery "How you do, Mees Palmyre? So -better, is it not? Glad I am!" - -Often he brought some little offering: a wooden dish of wild -strawberries; a string of fish, gleaming fresh from the water; or it -might be half-a-dozen crabs, which would crawl out of his pockets, only -to meet a swift death in the kettle of boiling water, and be converted -into some wonderful dish. Of Jim's skill in cookery, Miss Palmyra spoke -with bated breath. - -"Well!" she would say to Mrs. Brewster, who, toiling over her own cook -stove, sometimes wished she had a sprained ankle and could have Jim -Popples to do her work; "that man has a real gift, that's sartin'. Give -him an egg and an onion, and it does seem as if he could git the -flesh-pots of Egypt out of 'em. Jest you step to the cupboard, Mis' -Brewster. Thar's a corner I left special for you to taste, a dish o' -tomaytoes and rice he cooked for my dinner yesterday. Just them, and a -bit o' butter and a scrap of onion, and--thar! Did you ever! Don't that -relish good?" - -Small wonder that Miss Palmyra grew plump and rosy in spite of the -sprained ankle. - -Many a housewife wished, like Mrs. Brewster, that she also might profit -by Jim's gift; but though he did all kinds of chores for the whole -village, he would cook for no one but Miss Palmyra Henshaw. "I steal you -hen!" he said to her. "I wish to make you up for zat. I steal hens at no -ozer lady." - -So Miss Palmyra grew to feel a sort of ownership of Jim Popples, which -was by no means unpleasant; and she sewed on his buttons (for pleasure; -he could do it perfectly well himself, as she knew) and mended his -clothes; while he, at work with broom or mop, or whittling away at -basket-splints, told her wonderful stories of foreign lands, of apes and -peacocks, cedars and pomegranates, till the good woman grew to feel that -her thief was a very remarkable and very gifted person. - -So three months slipped away, as fast as months are apt to do; and a day -came when the captains sat all together in the Upper House at -Bannister's, and Giorgios Aristides Evangelides Paparipopoulos stood -before them, as he had stood once before, with his jailer glooming -beside him. - -The captains had sent for him, and now, at a murmur from the others, -Captain Zeno Pye took up the word: - -"Wal, Jim, yer three months is up, and I s'pose you're thinkin' about -goin'. Me and the captains feel to say to you that you've done well, -real well. Of course you started in mean, and stealin' aint right, -however you look at it. But you've worked stiddy, and you've worked -good; and I reckon you'd have to hunt round consid'able before you found -anybody in town who wa'n't real sorry to have ye go. If you felt to -stay, I don't doubt but you could get all the work you wanted, -odd-jobbin' round. The _se_leckmen 'd oughter pay ye somethin' for -repairin' the jail, but thar!--that's between you and them. Wal! the -steamer comes to-morrer, and I s'pose you'll be movin'. What we want to -say is, that we're right sorry to have ye go, Jim Popples. You're a -handy fellow, and I don't doubt you're a good seaman; and if me or the -other captains can speak a good word for ye, or help ye any way with a -start, why, we're ready to do it. That's so, aint it?" - -There was a growl of assent, in the midst of which-- - -"Thar she blows!" sung out Captain Abram Bannister. - -"Where away?" cried Captain Bije Tarbox. - -"Weather bow!" responded Captain Abram, and slept peacefully. - -Jim looked slowly round the circle; his smile grew wider and brighter, -till each man felt warm, and thought the weather was moderating; then he -saluted in seaman fashion. - -"I not go!" said the child of Hellas. "I stay. I get married -to-morrow--to Mees Palmyre!" - - - - -THE TROUBLING OF BETHESDA POOL. - - -Part I. - - -Some people in the village (but they were the spiteful ones) used to say -that Bethesda Pool might e'en so well be a dummy and done with it, if -she never could open her mouth when a person spoke to her. But there -were always others who were ready to respond that "it was a comfort -there was one woman who knew enough to hold her tongue when she had -nothing to say!" This retort was apt to provoke the reply churlish; and -many a pretty quarrel had been hatched up over the silence of Bethesda -Pool, who never quarrelled herself, because it entailed talking. - -She was the Lady of the Inn, Miss Bethesda. Her mother, the late Mrs. -Pool, had married the inn-keeper, and led a sad life of it. She was a -woman of a lively fancy, and had been in the habit of saying that if -she had been fool enough to get drownded in a pool, she meant to get all -the good she could out of the name! So she named her eldest daughter -Siloama (pronounced Silo-amy), her second Bethesda, and the son, who -came just after her husband had drowned himself in his special pool of -whiskey, Heshbon. The neighbours thought this triflin' with Scriptur', -and had their own opinion of Ma'am Pool's eccentricities; but the good -lady cared little for anybody's opinion; indeed, if she had had any such -care, she would not have married Father Pool, whose failings were well -known. All that was long ago, however; Father and Mother Pool were gone -to their places, the pensive Silo-amy and the fishy Heshbon had -followed, and Miss Bethesda was Queen of the Inn. - -The Inn was the only one in the village. Perhaps there was little need -even of this; but it had always been there since the old stage-coach -days, when the village was a favourite stopping-place for gay parties of -travellers, and when old Gran'ther Pool kept open house, and smiled over -his bar on all comers, like a rising sun a little the worse for wear. It -was a quaint old house, with a stone veranda in front, and mossy roofs -pitching this way and that. Inside was maze upon maze of long, narrow -corridors, with queer little rooms opening out of them,--some square, -some long; all low of ceiling and wavy of floor, with curious -dolphin-shaped latches, and doors set as if the builder had thrown them -at the wall and made the opening wherever they happened to strike. Few -of these doors were on a level with the floor; they might be two steps -above it, or three steps below; it was a matter of fancy, purely. There -was one room that could only be entered through the closet, unless you -preferred to get in at the window; but you could easily do that, as it -opened on the balcony. Then there was a square chamber containing a -trap-door; the Kidderminster carpet fitted the trap perfectly, and it -was a dangerous room for strangers to enter. Here the Freemasons used, -in old times, to hold their meetings, and carry on their mystic rites. -Later, it was the favourite playroom of the Pool children, and they and -their playmates were never tired of popping up and down the "Tumplety -Hole," as they called it. - -In the middle of the second story was a long ballroom, where in old days -merry dances had been held, and young feet jigged it to the tune of -"Money Musk" or "Hull's Victory." - -This room, with its wonderful wall-paper, representing the Carnival at -Rome, and its curious clock, was an object of wonder to the whole -village; and strangers or visitors were pretty sure to present -themselves at the Inn door, sometimes begging to be taken in for a few -days, sometimes merely asking the privilege of going over the quaint -old house. The reception of these visitors was apparently a matter of -caprice with the Lady of the Inn; one never could tell how she would -take it. Sometimes an eager statement that "We heard of your beautiful -house, and we have driven over from South Tupham, ten miles, on purpose -to see it!" would be met by the monosyllable "Have!" delivered in Miss -Bethesda's mildest tone, and the door would be softly but firmly shut in -the travellers' faces. Or the visitor might try another tack, and begin -with the bold assumption that the Inn was a place of public -entertainment, and that man and beast were welcome there, as a matter of -course. - -"I should like two bedrooms and a sitting-room, please! And will you -send someone to look out for my horses? And--I should like supper, -something hot, as soon as convenient!" To which Miss Bethesda might -reply, "Should you?" and smile, and again shut the door. - -But there were other times when something in the asking face or voice -touched one knew not what chord in the good lady's breast. On these -occasions she could be very gracious, and would say, perhaps, that she -really didn't know, she didn't take boarders--mebbe--just this -once--if't would accommodate--she didn't know--but she might compass it -somehow, and the door would be opened wide; and, once inside, the guest -was sure to be made so comfortable that he was loth to go away again. - -The fact was, that being clothed with means, as they say in the village, -the Lady of the Inn felt that it was merely a matter of personal fancy, -the taking in of guests, and that if she were not in the mood for -visitors there was no manner of reason why she should be bothered with -them. - -She had one servant, a grim elder, by name Ira Goodwin. The spiteful -people before alluded to said that Ira--or Iry, to give the name its -actual pronunciation--and his mistress never spoke to each other, but -communicated by means of signs. That could not be true, however, for -Mrs. Peake, next door, had been shaking a carpet in her yard one day, -close by the fence, and had heard Iry say, in a growling manner, "Guess -I can hold my tongue as well as others!" To which Miss Bethesda's crisp -tones replied: "You'd better, for the outside of your head does you more -credit than the inside!" - -Thus Miss Bethesda Pool lived in solitude for the most part, and content -with her lot; and no breeze ruffled the still waters of her life. - -It was very peaceful to be alone there in the great rambling Inn, and -hear no sound save the purring of the yellow cat, and the drip of the -water from the roofs. The roofs all leaked in the Inn, whenever there -was a possible chance for leaking, and the walls were covered with -strange patterns and hieroglyphics that were not included in the design -of the wall-paper. - -It happened one day that Miss Bethesda Pool was sitting in her own -comfortable room, toeing off a stocking, and thinking of many things, -when she heard a knock at the door. She took no notice of the first -summons, for she found that in many cases the knocker, after one, or at -most two, trials, was apt to go away, which saved a world of trouble, -and showed that he had no business that amounted to anything, anyhow. -But this was a persistent knocker, who kept on with a timid yet steady -"rat-tat-tat--" till Miss Bethesda concluded that, whoever it was, he -had not sense enough to know when he wasn't wanted, and that she must -answer the knock. - -She folded her knitting deliberately, and after examining the draughts -of the stove, and stroking the yellow cat two or three times, she went -to the door, holding her chin a little high, and looking, if the truth -must be told, rather uncompromising. - -When she opened the door, however, the lines of her face softened and -her chin went down. A bright-faced girl stood there, with a shawl -wrapped round her, for the day was cold. She was trying to smile, but -there were tears in her brown eyes, and her lip was quivering. - -"Miss Pool," she said, "I don't suppose I can come in, can I? I'd like -ever so much to speak to you, if you wouldn't mind!" - -Miss Bethesda opened the door wide, and without wasting breath, led the -shivering child in, and closed the door after her with a bang. That bang -carried defiance across the way, and gave Miss Bethesda as much comfort -as if she had let loose a torrent of angry words. There is great comfort -in a door sometimes. Still in silence, she led the girl into the -sitting-room, drew a chair near the stove for her, and motioned her to -sit down. Then resuming her own seat, she took up her knitting again, -and gazing calmly on her visitor, evidently felt that she had done her -part. - -"It's Father, Miss Pool!" said the pretty girl, whose name was Nan -Bradford. Miss Pool nodded comprehension, and set her lips more firmly. -"Father, he's going on dreadful!" said Nan. "You know Will Newell has -been--well, he has thought a sight of me, and I of him, these two years -past. - -"It came about while I was staying to grandma's, over to Cyrus, and -grandma knew all his folks, and there aint any better folks in the -country, grandma said. And yet--Father--he acts as though Will was one -thief and I was another. He won't let him come to the house, nor he -won't let me write to him, nor he won't do anything--'cept just be ugly! -There! I hadn't ought to say it, I know,--my own father, and just as -good a father as ever a girl has in the wide world, I do believe, till -this come up. But he won't hear of my marrying anybody,--that is the -plain truth, Miss Pool, not if it was a seraph with six wings! -And--and--what am I to do, I should like to know? I come to you, 'cause -you've always been good to me, and I seem to know you better than anyone -else, now grandma's dead. And I wouldn't complain of Father to anyone -else in the village, so I wouldn't!" - -She paused for breath; Miss Pool looked at her and nodded. It was an -expressive nod, and the girl seemed to feel better for it. She began to -cry softly, wiping her pretty eyes with the corner of her shawl. "I'm -just beat out!" she said, plaintively. "Be!" said Miss Bethesda, -soothingly; she went to the cupboard and brought out some of the famous -cookies which a few privileged children were allowed to taste from time -to time, but seldom anyone who had passed the boundary of childhood. -Nan, who was still a child in some ways, brightened at sight of the -cookies, and was soon nibbling them in comparative comfort, sighing -from time to time, and glancing up under her long eyelashes at Miss -Bethesda, who sat knitting as if her life depended upon it, her lips set -very tight, and apparently taking no notice of her guest. But Nan -Bradford knew Miss Pool, and was content to wait. She would not have -been let in, she knew, if the Lady of the Inn had not been in a good -mood. So, she nibbled the cookies, and thought of Will, and was as -comfortable as a lovelorn and persecuted damsel could be. - -Miss Bethesda kept her eyes fixed on her work, but she did not see it. -Instead of the gray wool and shining needles, a stalwart figure stood -before her, the figure of Buckstone Bradford. He had been her neighbour -for all the years of their life; he was four years her senior, and they -had been playmates in childhood. A breezy, rosy-cheeked boy he had been, -and her sworn ally. The children were apt to divide into two parties: -Bethesda and Buckstone on one side, Siloama and Heshbon on the other. -Thus arrayed, they were wont to do battle around the yawning gulf of the -Tumplety Hole, shouting their respective war-cries, which alluded, in an -unfriendly spirit, to the qualities of the enemy. - - - "Gruff and Grum! - Deaf and Dumb!" - - -Siloama and Heshbon would pipe shrilly; to which Bethesda and Buckstone -would reply, in deeper tones, - - - "Snivelly, Sneaky, - Wobbly, Weaky!" - - -A general combat would ensue, in the course of which both parties were -apt to fall down the trap-door into the basement room below, and be -rescued by Mother Pool, and summarily dealt with by her slipper. - -Then came the days of youth, when Buckstone courted her, and might have -won her if he had gone to work in the right way. But he was headstrong, -and she was obstinate; and he didn't get on with Siloama, and he was -hard on Heshbon, and so it had all blown over; he had married another -wife, and lost her while Nan was a baby. Miss Bethesda had forgotten all -about Nan by this time: before her stood the man of her choice, with his -feet apart and his chin stuck out, much as her own sometimes was; his -brows were knit, his eyes gleamed with sombre fire. - -"Bethesda," he said, and the words seemed to force the way through his -strong white teeth, "Bethesda, I'm going to marry you, anyway, and I'd -like to see you get out of it! Mind that!" - -Ah, well, that was all men knew! She had got out of it,--was it a sigh -that came at the thought, or a sniff of triumph, or a combination of the -two? And Buckstone had married a pindlin' soul that hadn't no more life -in her than a November chicken--and--that was all there was to it, Miss -Bethesda reckoned. - -And now, here he was hectoring this little girl of his, that always -favoured him, and had no look of her mother--hectoring and bullying, -just as he used; and Miss Bethesda wondered if the child was a-going to -stand it. She wouldn't have stood it, not a day, for her part, if she -was his daughter, let alone his--his--wife! And then she found herself -wondering whether he would have been so hectoring if she had been--and -brought herself up again with an indignant start. Why in Tunkett should -she be fretting herself about Buck Bradford's girl, she wanted to know! -And yet,--she had got the better of Buckstone Bradford once; it would -beat the world if she could put him down again, wouldn't it? - -While these thoughts were passing through her mind, the Lady of the Inn -sat, to all appearance, absorbed in her work, never dropping a stitch, -never failing to count with the regularity of a self-respecting clock; -and Nan Bradford watched her anxiously over the edge of her cooky. - - -Part II. - - - "Miss Pool asks the pleasure of your company at a social dance, on - Thursday evening, at seven o'clock. - - "Yours truly, - - "BETHESDA POOL." - - -This was the bomb-shell that fell into every respectable household in -the village two days after Nan Bradford's visit. Such a sensation had -never been known since old man Pool rode a saw-horse across the common -and into meeting the Sunday before he died; and, indeed, that was -nothing to be compared to this. Bethesdy Pool! Bethesdy Pool _give a -party_!! Well, what next? everybody wanted to know. Half-an-hour after -the notes had been delivered by Iry Goodwin (who carried them round in a -basket and handed them out as if they were death warrants), every woman -in the village, with two exceptions, was in another house than her own. - -"Have you got one?" "Have you?" "Let me see!" "Lemme see if 'tis like -mine?" "Yes, they're all the same!" "Well, I do declare! don't you?" "Is -the mile-ennion coming, or what, do you s'pose?" "A social dance! -Bethesdy Pool, as hasn't set down to a table, nor yet asked a soul to -set down to hers these fifteen years,--well of all! but so't is! You -can't tell where to have some folks, even though you've had 'em all your -life, as you may say!" - -The general verdict was that the Pools were all "streaky," and Bethesda -the most streaked of any of them; and that most likely she was going -clean out of her mind this time, and there would be an end of it. - -However, the unanimity on this point was equalled by the determination -of everybody, old and young, rich and poor, to go to the party. In fact, -it seemed probable that every house in the village would be deserted on -the eventful evening; for not a soul was willing to lose the sight of a -party in the old Inn. - -Report said, as the day came nearer and nearer, that great preparations -were going on. Every woman who had any skill in cookery had offered her -services eagerly, hoping to have some share in the great doings; Mrs. -Fullby had "presumed likely" that Bethesda would have more'n she could -manage with her own two hands, and had assured her that she, Mrs. -Fullby, would jis lives's not bring her apurn and eggbeater and put -right in on the cake and frostin'! while Miss Virginia Sharpe hinted -delicately that there was "a certain twist" in the making of pastry -that was considered peculiar to the Sharpe family, and that no -festivity would be complete without "Sharpe tarts;" but Miss Bethesda -was of the opinion that she and Iry could do what was necessary, and -just as much obleeged to _them_! and in point of fact, not a soul, with -the exception of Nan Bradford, who was seen to emerge once from the Inn, -looking rather frightened but very happy, was permitted to set foot -within the mysterious doors. Mrs. Peake said that she saw Nan coming -home, looking as if she had seen a ghost and lost her heart to it; but -Mrs. Peake had a poetic way with her, and her remarks were not much -heeded in the village. - -It was thought more likely that Nan had been poking her nose in where -her betters wouldn't ha' thought of poking theirs, and got it taken off -for her pains, and served her right! But it happened that Mrs. Peake was -right this time. - -Thursday evening came! The moon was full, the sleighing perfect; Nature -was evidently in league with Miss Bethesda Pool, and meant to do her -share in making the party a success. Miss Pool, standing in state at the -end of the ballroom, waiting for her guests to arrive, made a pleasant -picture in her old-fashioned flowered brocade, one of the -self-supporting kind, little beholden to any figure inside it. Her hair -was still brown, still pretty, with its crinkles that caught the light, -and gave her a wonderful look of youth, well carried out by her bright -hazel eyes, and trim figure. In truth, she was not old, Miss Bethesda; -her fortieth birthday was only just past, and she was straight as a -dart, and strong as a tree; but when one has played old woman for -fifteen years, one gets to think the play a reality, and one's -neighbours are not slow to adopt the view. On looking in the glass, this -evening, Miss Bethesda experienced a slight shock, and a decided -impression of good looks. She wondered if Buckstone Bradford would find -her much changed; she regretted that she had worn her old "punkin" hood -quite so uniformly for the last ten years, and meditated on the -attractions of a certain sky-blue "fascinator," which had been lying in -her top-drawer ever since Siloama died. Fond of bright colours Siloama -always was, and dressy to the day of her death. Anyhow, the brocade was -handsome enough to please any one! Miss Bethesda smoothed down the -shining folds, examined her white silk mitts carefully, and glanced up -at the clock, to see how much longer she had to wait. Nearly seven! -Folks would most likely be on time, Miss Bethesda thought, with a grim -smile; curiosity could hurry the laziest folks that ever forgot to draw -their breath! She reckoned every old podogger in the village would turn -out to see Bethesdy Pool make a fool of herself; but let 'em come! -There'd be more than one fool to-night, if things went as they should! -'Twas strange, though, that she hadn't heard no word from-- - -Here her meditations were interrupted; for the door at the end of the -ballroom flew open and revealed a tall young man, wrapped to his eyes in -fur, who rushed forward and took her hand, and tried to say something, -and failed egregiously. - -"Will Newell!" cried Miss Bethesda, "do you mean to tell me this is you? -For gracious sake, what do you want? Didn't you get my note?" - -"Yes, ma'am, I did," cried the big fellow, drawing the sleeve of his fur -coat across his eyes. "I've done as you said; but I couldn't go farther -without thanking you, not if 'twas ever so! Miss Bethesda, I--I'd do -anything in the world for you, I believe. You don't know what a time -we've had,--Nan and me. We--I--well, I'm not one to talk, never was! but -I _would_ do anything for you, now, I would!" - -"Dance the Virginia Reel with me, then," said Miss Bethesda, smiling -grimly at her joke. "Or else, if you don't want to do that, take -yourself out of this as quick as you can, Will Newell, and get ready! -Hark! There's the bell this minute. You've fixed it all right with Nan?" - -"All right!" panted Will. "I've got the team hid away where you said, in -the old cow-shed. Now I'll go and fix me; and maybe we will have the -reel, Miss Pool, if you'll have it early enough on the programme. I -won't promise to wait for you, though, more'n the first half of the -evening." - -He ran out, his eyes shining with joy; and Miss Bethesda folded her -white mitts again, and waited calmly for the first guests. - -The clock struck seven, and Miss Bethesda glanced up again. It was a -wonderful clock, this of the old Inn. More than a hundred years it had -hung there, having been brought over from England by Gran'ther Pool, -before he lost his money and took to keeping the Inn. Its dial and frame -were gayly painted with dancing figures, with garlands of flowers, from -which peeped laughing faces of loves and fairies. The great weights that -hung against the wall were curious, too,--dolphin-shaped, like the -door-latches, and shining with remnants of gilding. And now, following -closely on the seventh stroke, came notes of music, faint, rustling -notes, the very spirit of sound; a waltz, sweet and delicate as the tiny -faces that peeped from the painted garlands on its dial, faltered forth -from the old clock: "Tra-la-la, lira-la, la-la!--" and between the notes -of the swinging measure the wheels creaked and groaned, and the wires -wheezed, and the weights lamented as they slid up and down. "Just like -any other old fool," thought Miss Bethesda, "doing things she has no -business to!" and for a moment she felt as old as the clock, and -repented her of her purpose. - -But the guests were here! They had been gathering for some time in the -cloak-room, and now one couple had been bold enough to make the first -break, and the narrow staircase was crowded with maids and matrons, sons -and fathers, all in their best. Every eye glistened with eager -curiosity, every mouth was open to whisper in the next ear at anything -singular that should meet the eye when they came into their hostess's -presence; but lo and behold! there stood Bethesda Pool, looking as if -she had a party every week of her life, and had nothing in the world to -do but stand there and look fine. - -Very stately was the courtesy with which Miss Bethesda greeted her -guests. She was pleased to see them; hoped they would enjoy themselves, -and make themselves as much to home as if they _was_ to home! This was -generally the extent of her conversation with any one group of eager -neighbours, before turning to welcome the next. But presently the colour -deepened a little in her still fresh cheek, and her eyes grew brighter; -for, coming up the ballroom, she saw the stalwart form of Buckstone -Bradford, with pretty Nan beside him, looking like roses and milk in her -white dress. "Knew he'd come!" Miss Bethesda said to herself; and -immediately discovered, by the flutter at her heart, that she had not -known, but only hoped it. - -Truth to tell, Mr. Bradford had had a dozen minds about coming to -Bethesda Pool's party. He had never forgiven her for her treatment of -him twenty years before; his heart was of firm and tenacious fibre, and -retained the impression of affections and of injuries more than many a -softer organ. He considered Bethesda still the finest-looking woman in -the neighbourhood, and would have snorted with contempt if anyone had -told him that his daughter Nan, with her pink-and-white prettiness, was -fairer than ever his old sweetheart had been. But admiring was not -forgiving, and nothing would have brought Buckstone out to-night save -the dread of "goings-on" on the part of his girl and that -good-for-nothing Newell fellow. - -There was something in the air,--Buckstone did not know what it -was,--something that made him uneasy. Nan had been so meek the last time -he scolded her, never once standing up for her favourite, as she was -wont to do; she had been so affectionate, and,--well, she was always a -good girl when she wasn't making a fool of herself about a noodle; but -there was more than usual, her father thought. He didn't dare to let her -go alone to the party; there was the plain truth of it; he was afraid, -he knew not of what. So he had had his hair cut, and had taken out and -brushed his wedding coat, not without angry and defiant thoughts of her -who should have stood up with him when he wore it; and, briefly, here he -was, standing before Bethesda Pool, grim and forbidding, but still a -fine-looking man, his hostess thought, and towering head and shoulders -above everyone else in the room. - -"Good evening, Mr. Bradford! pleased to see you!" - -"Your servant, Miss Pool!" and it was over, and the mist began to clear -from Miss Bethesda's eyes, as she turned aside to ask the fiddler if he -was ready. The fiddler was ready, of course. He had been tuning his -fiddle for the last fifteen minutes, and his fingers were itching to -begin. Was he not a pupil of old Jacques de Arthenay, the famous fiddler -of the last generation? And had he not been shelved for the past ten -years, just because folks were fools enough to prefer an organ and a -cornet to the only instrument ordained of Heaven to make people dance! -So with right good-will he mounted the stool in the corner, and struck -up the "Lady of the Lake." - -How many years it was since that hall had rung to the sound of a fiddle! -Probably no one present knew; but many, and especially the older ones, -or those who were cast in a sentimental mould, felt that there was -something ghostly in this first dance. People were a little timid, -perhaps; and their hostess, standing silent and stately in her stiff -brocade, was not the one to set them at their ease. It seemed to Miss -Selina Leaf as if, when the dancers took their places in the two long -lines, she heard the rustle of many gowns that were not seen in the -room; as if old, forgotten perfumes were wafted through the air, and -soft, subdued voices whispered courtly greetings at her side. She was -"littery," Miss Selina, and had written many "sweet things" for the -county weekly. - -But the "Lady of the Lake" is a robust and inspiring dance, and soon -banished all shadowy or sentimental thoughts from the minds of the -dancers. "Down the middle!" "Sashy to partners!" "Turn the same!" "Eight -hands round!" - -Soon eyes were sparkling and cheeks glowing like flame, and the young -feet went flying up and down the long, low room, as young feet will fly -when the fiddle sounds and the blood courses freely through the veins. - -Miss Bethesda Pool looked on with bright eyes, her foot (she had the -prettiest foot in the room, and knew it) tapping in time to the music. -She had refused several invitations to dance, without a word, simply a -sniff of denial; but it was good to see a dance again. - -Will Newell was there, dancing with his cousin, the pasty-faced girl, -who would have money when her grandfather died: dancing dutifully, as if -the cousin were the only girl in the room, and not so much as glancing -toward where Nan Bradford, more rosy than ever, was footing it lightly -as a fairy, opposite young Jacob Flynt. - -Jacob was her father's choice for her, as everybody knew; and it was no -wonder that Buckstone Bradford looked cheerful and contented as he -leaned against the wall with folded arms, watching the dancers. - -Yes, Buckstone was contented for the moment; things were going just as -he wished to see them; and yet--so ungrateful a creature is man--he -could not help suspecting even his own satisfaction. What made Nan so -happy? When had anyone seen her look like this before when she had to -dance with Jacob Flynt? Was this duty or--or what? - -The "Lady of the Lake" was followed by the "Portland Fancy;" that by the -splendid romp of the "Tempest." - -Ah! these were dances! Happy the neighbourhood where the real dances, -the wreathing, linked garlands of grace and lightness and youth, still -form part of a ball! The waltz is pretty enough, when well done; but -who has not tired of the endless whirl of revolving couples, dual -teetotums, spinning round and round, till sight and brain are dizzy -alike? You shall not find, in painting or sculpture, any showing forth -of waltz or polka as Nature's expression of joy and motion. But what -Greek vase or tablet, what glowing canvas of Giorgione, or Veronese, but -might be glad to catch the rhythmic swing of the "Tempest," as the long -line wavers to and fro, and the bold dancers in the middle sweep down -the hall and back again,--to catch and fix it in immortal lines of -carving or of colour? - - -"Gents choose partners for 'Pop goes the Weasel!'" - -There had been an intermission, during which the hall had hummed like a -hive of vari-coloured bees. People were thoroughly at ease now, and -speech flowed freely, as the couples promenaded up and down. - -"A festive occasion, truly, Mr. Bumpus!" said Miss Selina Leaf, with -gentle dignity. - -"Bustin'! bustin'!" replied Mr. Bumpus, with effusion. "Haven't seen -such goin's on in the village, _I_ d'no when! Does a person good to -limber out the j'ints once in a while; dancin's better than bar's grease -any day in the week! Haw! haw!" - -Miss Selina considered this remark vulgar, and bridled gently, but made -no reply. - -"Surprisin' thing, too," Mr. Bumpus went on. "Bethesdy Pool--now, you'd -ha' said her dancin' days were over, if anyone had ha' asked you, -wouldn't you,--same as yours and mine?" - -Miss Selina winced again, and looked toward a seat, but the bold Bumpus -went on, unconscious. - -"We'd ha' said that, surely,--you and me; yet there she is, looking most -as young as the girls, I do maintain. Don't know as there's any manner -of use in gettin' old before you're obleeged ter; never enj'yed a 'Lady -of the Lake' more than I did that one with you, ma'am. What's that? 'Pop -goes the Weasel?' Now you don't mean to say! Why, I haint danced 'Pop -goes the Weasel!' since my Maria was a baby, and look at her dancin' it -with her husband! Reckon I must look up my woman and dance this with -her, or she'll be castin' up at you, Miss Selina; so if you'll excuse -_me_!--" and the good man bustled off, leaving Miss Selina rigid with -indignation. - -"Pop goes the Weasel!" It was an old dance, and had not been seen in the -village for years. Indeed, many of the lads and lasses had never seen -it, and looked about them at a loss, as the lively strains struck up, -notes whose shrill gayety made even the "Tempest" seem quiet by -comparison. But the older men and women cast glances at each other, -half-shy, half-pleased. This was renewing old times with a vengeance! -Many a husband followed the example of Israel Bumpus, and led out the -choice of his youth, flattering himself that she "stood it as well as -any of 'em," while mature spinsters settled themselves elaborately in -their seats, with an air of never having heard of the old-fashioned -dance,--unless some one came to ask them for it, in which case memory -became suddenly refreshed, and they stood up with right good-will. - -Now it happened that in happier days this had been the favourite dance -of Miss Bethesda Pool, and that her favourite partner in it had been -Buckstone Bradford. She could not keep back a start when the well-known -air was played with all its old fire; and for the life of her, it -seemed, she could not help looking across the hall at Buckstone, where -he stood, leaning stiffly against the wall. He was looking at her, of -course: somehow, she knew he would be. Their eyes met; and perhaps -neither of them knew exactly what happened next. Before Mr. Bradford had -time to collect his thoughts, he found himself bowing his stiff back -before Bethesda Pool. "My dance, I believe!" he said, shortly; and -though Miss Bethesda knew it was nothing of the kind, she could not find -breath to say so. She looked up, she looked down; and the next moment, -to the amazement of everybody, the two old sweethearts took their places -at the head of the line. - -Now Will Newell had been growing uneasy during the last half-hour. He -had hardly had a chance to speak to Nan, yet had managed to make her -understand that all was ready, and that when he gave the word she was to -take her life in her hand and fly with him. But when could he give the -word? Bradford's eyes had hardly left his daughter's figure all the -evening; he followed her up and down the lines of dancers, frowning -heavily if Will happened to be near her in the dance, stolidly content -if her neighbour were young Jacob Flynt. What was Will to do? The horse -would be getting uneasy, and the moon would be setting before long. He -must get rid of old Bradford, somehow! - -Suddenly, hardly able to believe his eyes, he saw his tormentor fairly -turn his back on Nan: saw him cross the room, saw him bend before Miss -Bethesda, saw him standing up to dance. Now! now was the chance! In an -instant Will had forced his way before Jacob Flynt, who was just about -to lead Nan out for the dance. "You're engaged to me for this, you know, -Nan," said this unblushing young fellow; and he drew her arm under his -with a quick, masterful gesture. "But--but--but she promised me!" cried -poor Jacob, who stammered a little. - -"Oh, go to Tinkham!" said Will, alluding disrespectfully to the next -township; and he led off his trembling Nan in triumph. - - - "All around the cobbler's shop - The monkey chased the weasel; - That's the way the money goes,-- - _Pop!_ goes the weasel!" - - -The fiddle says "Pop!" as plainly as the ridiculous doggerel; and at the -word, two of the three who have been swinging round together lift their -arms, and the third goes "_pop!_" under and rises to confront the next -couple: more tiptoe swaying, balancing to this one, chassez-ing to that -one; then three hands round, and "_pop!_" goes the weasel again; and so -on down the whole room, in the prettiest, merriest, most enchanting -dance of them all. But this is engrossing, I would have you know. When -one is popping every third minute, and balancing and swinging during the -other two, it is difficult, it is impossible, to keep a sharp lookout on -two persons who are popping at the other end of the dance. Half of -Buckstone Bradford, the worst half, was having a sad time of it, trying -to see over his shoulder and behind his back; but the other half, the -one that had asked Miss Bethesda to dance, ah! that half was enjoying -itself as it had not done for years. How she danced! as pat to the -music as fiddle to bow! How small her hand looked, just as it used to -look, lying in his big brown palm! How--now, where in time were those -pesky young ones? - -For lo! a thing had happened. At the last triumphant "_pop!_" of the -weasel, there had been another pop through the little door at the -farther end of the hall; and by this time, Miss Bethesda calculated, -Will and Nan must have reached the foot of the back stairs, and be -flying across the kitchen on their way to the outer door and safety. She -drew a long breath, and turned to her companion, trying to keep the -light of triumph out of her eyes. Bradford had stopped short, setting -the dancers all astray; he looked around the room, seeking the -delinquents; his heavy brows met, his face grew scarlet. Yes, Miss -Bethesda knew he would be proper mad! But now he turned, and fixed his -eyes on her with relentless scrutiny; another moment, and with a roar -like a wild animal, he darted in pursuit. - -The fiddler, who had learned more things than fiddling from old De -Arthenay, put out his foot, hoping to trip up the angry man; but, heavy -as he was, Bradford leaped aside like a deer, and the next instant he -was in the outer hall, and Bethesda Pool after him. - -"Buckstone," she cried, "wait just a minute, and I'll tell you!" - -But he turned on her savagely. - -"I'll see to you afterwards, Bethesda Pool!" he cried, furiously. "You -won't make me lose time, I can tell you! Think I don't remember the old -short cut? Stand out of the way, or I shall do ye a hurt, and I don't -want to do that!" - -"Buckstone!" cried Miss Bethesda again; but this time the big man, -without another word, lifted her away from the doorway in which she had -placed herself, and rushed on. - -"He's forgotten," said Miss Bethesda to herself; "he's forgotten, and I -didn't tell him. He might--" she caught her breath, for there came the -sound of a crash, and then a heavy fall. "Lord, forgive me!" she cried. -"He's found it, sure enough, and like t' ha' killed himself." - -"It" meant the old trap-door in the room that was formerly used by the -Freemasons. Many and many a time had she and Buckstone explored it in -childish days, and played prisoner under it, and come up through it in -all manner of costume and disguise. He ought to have known the room as -well as he knew his own hand. Was it her fault that he had forgotten, in -his blind rage? But--but she had seen him rush into the room, and she -had not warned him. - -"Buckstone, be you hurt?" she cried, leaning over the dark hole in the -floor. She listened, and heard strange sounds from below,--grunts and -groans, mingled with unscriptural language. - -She drew a long breath. "I knew 'twasn't deep enough to hurt him real -bad," she said. "Provided he can cuss, I guess he's all right." - -She listened again, inclining her ear this time toward the outer door, -and she heard the clear jingle of sleigh-bells and the swish of a -sleigh, as it swept out of the yard and away over the snowy road. Again -Miss Bethesda breathed deep. "That's a good hearin'," she murmured; "but -I _am_ sorry for Buckstone! - -"Be you hurt?" she asked again, bending once more over the hole. - -"I'll let you know whether I'm hurt or not!" muttered Buckstone from -below. "Once let me get out of this, and I'll be even with you, Bethesda -Pool!" - -"Will!" said Miss Bethesda, in her calmest tone. "Well, I must be going, -Mr. Bradford. I'll send Iry to help you out. I _am_ surprised, though, -at you forgettin', after as many times as you've ben down that hole!" - -Mr. Bradford's reply did little credit to him as a church-member, and -Miss Bethesda, after calling her man and giving him certain directions, -returned to her guests in the dancing-hall. - -People were looking for her with some curiosity. The news of Will's -departure with Nan had spread, and when they saw Buckstone Bradford rush -from the room, followed closely by their hostess, there was a good deal -of suppressed excitement, but no one dared to follow; you might take -liberties with some folks, but Bethesda Pool was not one of them. And, -after all, she and Buck Bradford knew each other like two old shoes, if -they hadn't spoken for fifteen years; and what they--the guests--were -here for was a good time, so when the fiddler struck up the "Chorus -Jig," most of the dancers took the floor, leaving only a few of the most -curious to watch the door, and speculate what was going on behind it. -But now the little door opened, and here was Miss Pool again, calm and -unruffled, folding her mitted hands, and looking as if she had never -heard of such a thing as a runaway couple. - -"Why, Bethesdy!" said Mrs. Minchin, taking the freedom of an old -schoolmate, "we thought you was lost, for sure, goin' off with Mr. -Bradford that way!" - -"Did!" replied Miss Bethesda. "Please take your partners to go down to -supper!" - - -The guests, with one exception, were gone. The lights were out in the -long ballroom, and the old clock resumed its solitary sway, thankful -that the noisy scraping of the fiddle was over. As Miss Bethesda closed -the door behind her the clock struck two, and softly, timidly, stole -forth the notes of the fairy waltz, as elves, waiting for their forest -revels, might steal from their hiding-places when the clumsy foot of man -has ceased to echo in their sacred green places. "La-la-la, la-lira-la!" -and who could tell what gentle ghosts were now gliding forward in the -dance? - -But Miss Bethesda never thought of ghosts. She had to lay a spirit, it -was true, but there was little of ghostly about it. - -Perhaps she felt some trepidation at the thought of what was before her, -and as she listened to Iry's muttered words concerning the mental status -of the one guest remaining in the Inn. But she gave no sign, only told -Iry to go to bed, and leave his door open, in case she should want to -call him. - -She took a tray, and covering it with one of her finest napkins, -proceeded to lay out a dainty supper, such as she well knew how to -prepare. What had Buckstone liked best, in the old times? She guessed a -little of that lobster salad would be about right, and half-a-dozen -rolls, feathery and unsubstantial as baked morning cloud; then a -whip,--he always liked a tall whip, with raspberry jam at the bottom! -and a slice of plum-cake, and,--well, a glass of cherry-brandy might do -no harm, if they _were_ both temperance folks. He'd be some tired, -likely, raging and routing round the way he had been, from what Iry -said. And so Miss Bethesda, like the bold woman she was, unlocked the -sitting-room door, and entered the lion's den. - -She expected a rush, and held her tray firmly; but no rush came. The -lion was sitting huddled up in a great chair, with his foot on another -chair before him. At first Miss Bethesda thought he was asleep; but -catching the sombre glare of his dark eyes, she set the tray down -carefully, and faced her guest with folded hands and apparent composure. - -"How are you feeling, Mr. Bradford?" she asked, seeing, with some -compunction, how pale he was. - -"My leg is broke!" was the grim reply, "and I'm injured some inside, -most probably bleeding; but otherwise I'm well, Miss Pool, and much -obleeged to _you_!" - -"You're welcome!" said Bethesda, with a flash; and then she went down on -her knees, and manipulated him skilfully. - -"Your leg isn't broke!" she announced, cheerfully; "but you have got a -leetle sprain into your ankle, Buck,--I should say Mr. Bradford,--and -it's some considerable swoll up. You'd better let me bathe it for ye, -and then have a bit of supper, and then you can lay right down on the -l'unge here, and rest ye till morning. You'll be all right by then, I -calc'late, and able to git you home,--with a stick!" - -The last thrust was pure malice, and the big man winced; but not -altogether at thought of the stick or the sprained ankle. - -"I've got no home," he said; "thanks to you, Bethesda Pool! You've seen -that my girl got off safe with that good-for-nothin' feller, and that's -the last of any home for me! I hope it's done ye good!" - -"It has so!" replied Miss Bethesda, rubbing the ankle briskly with her -favourite liniment. "A sight o' good it's done me, Mr. Bradford, and I -hope 'twill do you good, too, some day!" - -"May I ask," Buckstone continued, grimly, glowering down on the little -woman, as she knelt beside him, "why you felt called to make or meddle -in my affairs, Miss Bethesda Pool?" - -"You may!" said Miss Bethesda, looking up with fire in her eye. "Your -girl, pretty creetur, come cryin' to me the other day, and told me all -about how you was treating her, Buckstone Bradford; and 'twas a shame, -and you know it was! There's nothing in this world against Will Newell, -well you know! He's a church-member, and he's well thought of by all -that's acquainted with him. You didn't like his father, because you -thought I,--because you thought things about him that there was no -occasion for thinking, and he killed in the war afterwards and all; and -that's all the reason, save and except that you are a greedy grab-all, -Buckstone Bradford, and don't want your girl to do anything all her days -'cept wait on you! That's the living truth, and you know it as well as I -do! Hurt ye, did I? Well, I'm sorry for that, but if I could hurt your -mind instead of your ankle, I should be pleased to death! I can speak -when I've a mind to, if they do call me a dummy; and I'm speaking to you -now, Buckstone, and don't you forget it! You've been acting mean and -selfish and greedy, and every right-thinking person in this village is -disgusted with you, clean through to the ground! So, now! And I helped -them children off for pure pleasure, so I did, and for love of seeing -young things happy, if I aint ben happy myself! Not that that's here or -there. I planned this party for it, and laid out consid'able money, and -set every tongue in the village clacking till they e'enamost dropped -off, and a mighty good thing, too, if they had! and I sent for Will -Newell, and showed him where he could hitch his hoss, and how he could -git his girl off the quickest and the safest. You was pretty spry, -Buckstone, but you wouldn't ha' caught 'em, even if you hadn't--if you -hadn't have fell down the Tumplety Hole. And--and that's what I did, and -glad clean through to my back-comb that I done it, and would do it again -the fust time I got a chance!" - -Miss Bethesda paused for breath, and bound up the lame ankle, wrapping -it in fold on fold of cool linen. She expected thunders of reply, but -Buckstone Bradford was silent. - -There was a long pause, during which the coals tinkled in the grate and -the frost cracked and snapped outside. - -At length,--"The Tumplety Hole!" he said, musingly. "Yes, that was it! I -was trying to think what we used to call it, and I couldn't bring the -name to mind. The Tumplety Hole, sure enough! And you come up through -it, one day, dressed in a white gown with silver trimmin's,--" - -"That I found in the old trunk up garret!" put in Miss Bethesda. - -"And flowers in your hair!" Bradford went on. "I thought you looked the -slickest of anything I ever saw, then, Bethesda; and--well, I don't know -but I think so still." - -"Foolishness!" said Miss Bethesda, rising and wiping her hands. "Have a -bit o' supper, now, Buckstone, do!" - -"No, I couldn't eat," said the big man, drawing his hand slowly across -his brow. "I couldn't eat your victuals, Bethesda, and have you thinkin' -of me the way you--you said. It's all true, it seems born in on me to -feel. I've done a good bit o' thinkin', sittin' here alone. I never -realized it before, but the fact seems to be that I've been a hog, and -bein' so, I can't sit down with no lady and eat her victuals, you see." - -"Foolishness!" said Miss Bethesda again, looking rather discomposed. -"You mustn't think too much of what I said, Buckstone. Mebbe I spoke too -hash--" - -"Oh, you spoke out!" said the man. "Needn't ever anybody tell me that -Bethesda Pool can't open her head. When them waters is troubled, there's -no mistake about their movin'; I knowed that before. You spoke out once -before to me, Bethesda, and the sound of it stays with me yet. There! I -guess I'll be goin'. You said you'd lend me a stick, did ye?" - -"Good Isick!" cried Miss Bethesda, standing up to bar his way, in real -distress. "Buckstone, you can't go out in this cold in the middle of the -night, and with your ankle that way. You'll ketch your death. Stop where -you be, like a sensible man, and have some supper with me!" - -"S'pose I do ketch my death!" said Buckstone; "aint no one to care, that -I know of. Nan's gone, and there's no one else, is there, Bethesda?" - -"Good Isick!" cried Miss Bethesda again, and wrung her hands in sheer -desperation. Whither were they drifting? - -"If I thought--" Buckstone Bradford was speaking again, slowly this -time, the anger clean gone out of him, but with an earnestness that -shook his deep voice, and made the brave little woman before him -tremble, and her cheek flush as it had not done for many a day-- - -"If I thought there _was_ anyone that cared what become of me; if I -thought there was anyone that was willing to let bygones be bygones, -seeing that I've cared for that person all my life, since--since first -we knew there was a Tumplety Hole in that room; if I thought there was -anyone who knew she could fetch out all the good there was in me,--in -old "Gruff and Grum,"--and that knew best of anyone how much good there -was to be fetched--why--if there _was_ any such person, I'd sit down to -that table the proudest man in the wide world, and the happiest! -But--but--I don't suppose there is, do you, Bethesda?" - -"Oh, my gracious land of deliverance!" cried Miss Bethesda, fairly -beside herself. "I--I--don't know as there is, Buckstone, and--and -yet--I don't know _but_ there is! But do, for gracious sake, sit down, -whatever way it is, and eat your supper like a Christian man!" - -And Buckstone sat down. - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JIM OF HELLAS, OR IN DURANCE VILE; -THE TROUBLING OF BETHESDA POOL*** - - -******* This file should be named 52068.txt or 52068.zip ******* - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/5/2/0/6/52068 - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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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