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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Taken Alive, by E. P. Roe
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Taken Alive
+
+Author: E. P. Roe
+
+Posting Date: September 8, 2012 [EBook #5320]
+Release Date: March, 2004
+First Posted: June 30, 2002
+Last Updated: August 14, 2005
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TAKEN ALIVE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+The Works of E. P. Roe
+
+VOLUME ELEVEN
+
+TAKEN ALIVE AND OTHER STORIES WITH AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY
+
+
+ILLUSTRATED
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+"A NATIVE AUTHOR CALLED ROE"
+
+TAKEN ALIVE:
+     I. SOMETHING BEFORE UNKNOWN
+    II. A VISITOR AT THE MINE
+   III. THWARTED
+    IV. TAKEN ALIVE
+     V. WHAT BRANDT SAW CHRISTMAS EVE
+
+FOUND YET LOST:
+     I. LOVE IN THE WILDERNESS
+    II. LOVE AT HOME
+   III. "DISABLED"
+    IV. MARTINE SEEKS AN ANTIDOTE
+     V. SECOND BLOOM
+    VI. MORE THAN REWARD
+   VII. YANKEE BLANK
+  VIII. "HOW CAN I?"
+    IX. SHADOWS OF COMING EVENTS
+     X. "YOU CANNOT UNDERSTAND"
+    XI. MR. KEMBLE'S APPEAL
+   XII. "YOU MUST REMEMBER"
+  XIII. "I'M HELEN"
+   XIV. "FORWARD! COMPANY A"
+
+QUEEN OF SPADES
+
+AN UNEXPECTED RESULT
+
+A CHRISTMAS-EVE SUIT
+
+THREE THANKSGIVING KISSES
+
+SUSIE ROLLIFFE'S CHRISTMAS
+
+JEFF'S TREASURE:
+     I. ITS DISCOVERY
+    II. ITS INFLUENCE
+
+CAUGHT ON THE EBB-TIDE
+
+CHRISTMAS EVE IN WAR TIMES
+
+A BRAVE LITTLE QUAKERESS
+
+
+
+
+
+
+"A NATIVE AUTHOR CALLED ROE"
+
+An Autobiography
+
+
+Two or three years ago the editor of "Lippincott's Magazine" asked me,
+with many others, to take part in the very interesting "experience
+meeting" begun in the pages of that enterprising periodical. I gave my
+consent without much thought of the effort involved, but as time
+passed, felt slight inclination to comply with the request. There
+seemed little to say of interest to the general public, and I was
+distinctly conscious of a certain sense of awkwardness in writing about
+myself at all. The question, Why should I? always confronted me.
+
+When this request was again repeated early in the current year, I
+resolved at least to keep my promise. This is done with less reluctance
+now, for the reason that floating through the press I meet with
+paragraphs concerning myself that are incorrect, and often absurdly
+untrue. These literary and personal notes, together with many
+questioning letters, indicate a certain amount of public interest, and
+I have concluded that it may be well to give the facts to those who
+care to know them.
+
+It has been made more clear to me that there are many who honestly do
+care. One of the most prized rewards of my literary work is the
+ever-present consciousness that my writings have drawn around me a
+circle of unknown yet stanch friends, who have stood by me
+unfalteringly for a number of years. I should indeed be lacking if my
+heart did not go out to them in responsive friendliness and goodwill.
+If I looked upon them merely as an aggregation of customers, they would
+find me out speedily. A popular mood is a very different thing from an
+abiding popular interest. If one could address this circle of friends
+only, the embarrassment attendant on a certain amount of egotism would
+be banished by the assurance of sympathetic regard. Since, from the
+nature of circumstances, this is impossible, it seems to me in better
+taste to consider the "author called Roe" in an objective, rather than
+in a friendly and subjective sense. In other words, I shall try to look
+at him from the public point of view, and free myself from some
+predisposition in his favor shared by his friends. I suppose I shall
+not succeed in giving a colorless statement of fact, but I may avoid
+much special pleading in his behalf.
+
+Like so many other people, I came from a very old family, one from
+which there is good proof of an unbroken line through the Dark Ages,
+and all ages, to the first man. I have never given any time to tracing
+ancestry, but have a sort of quiet satisfaction that mine is certainly
+American as far as it well can be. My forefathers (not "rude," to my
+knowledge) were among the first settlers on the Atlantic seaboard. My
+paternal and maternal grandfathers were stanch Whigs during the
+Revolution, and had the courage of their convictions. My grandmother
+escaped with her children from the village of Kingston almost as the
+British entered it, and her home was soon in ashes. Her husband, James
+Roe, was away in the army. My mother died some years before I attained
+my majority, and I cannot remember when she was not an invalid. Such
+literary tendencies as I have are derived from her, but I do not
+possess a tithe of her intellectual power. Her story-books in her youth
+were the classics; and when she was but twelve years of age she knew
+"Paradise Lost" by heart. In my recollections of her, the Bible and all
+works tending to elucidate its prophecies were her favorite themes of
+study. The retentiveness of her memory was very remarkable. If any one
+repeated a verse of the New Testament, she could go on and finish the
+chapter. Indeed, she could quote the greater part of the Bible with the
+ease and accuracy of one reading from the printed page. The works of
+Hugh Miller and the Arctic Explorations of Dr. Kane afforded her much
+pleasure. Confined usually to her room, she took unfailing delight in
+wandering about the world with the great travellers of that day, her
+strong fancy reproducing the scenes they described. A stirring bit of
+history moved her deeply. Well do I remember, when a boy, of reading to
+her a chapter from Motley's "Dutch Republic," and of witnessing in her
+flushed cheeks and sparkling black eyes proof of an excitement all too
+great for one in her frail health. She had the unusual gift of relating
+in an easy, simple way what she read; and many a book far too abstruse
+and dull for my boyish taste became an absorbing story from her lips.
+One of her chief characteristics was the love of flowers. I can
+scarcely recall her when a flower of some kind, usually a rose, was not
+within her reach; and only periods of great feebleness kept her from
+their daily care, winter and summer. Many descendants of her floral
+pets are now blooming in my garden.
+
+My father, on the other hand, was a sturdy man of action. His love for
+the country was so strong that he retired from business in New York as
+soon as he had won a modest competence. For forty-odd years he never
+wearied in the cultivation of his little valley farm, and the square,
+flower-bordered garden, at one side of which ran an unfailing brook. In
+this garden and under his tuition I acquired my love of
+horticulture--acquired it with many a backache--heartache too, on days
+good for fishing or hunting; but, taking the bitter with the sweet, the
+sweet predominated. I find now that I think only of the old-fashioned
+roses in the borders, and not of my hands bleeding from the thorns. If
+I groaned over the culture of many vegetables, it was much compensation
+to a boy that the dinner-table groaned also under the succulent dishes
+thus provided. I observed that my father's interest in his garden and
+farm never flagged, thus proving that in them is to be found a pleasure
+which does not pall with age. During the last summer of his life, when
+in his eighty-seventh year, he had the delight of a child in driving
+over to my home in the early morning, long before I was up, and in
+leaving a basket of sweet corn or some other vegetable which he knew
+would prove his garden to be ahead of mine.
+
+My father was very simple and positive in his beliefs, always openly
+foremost in the reform movements of his day and in his neighborhood,
+yet never, to my knowledge, seeking or taking any office. His house
+often became a station of the "underground railroad" in slavery times,
+and on one night in the depth of winter he took a hotly-pursued
+fugitive in his sleigh and drove him five miles on the ice, diagonally
+across the Hudson, to Fishkill, thence putting the brave aspirant for
+freedom on the way to other friends. He incurred several risks in this
+act. It is rarely safe to drive on the river off the beaten tracks at
+night, for there are usually air-holes, and the strong tides are
+continually making changes in the ice. When told that he might be sent
+to jail for his defiance of the Fugitive Slave Law, he quietly
+answered, "I can go to jail." The thing he could not do was to deny the
+man's appeal to him for help. Before the war he was known as an
+Abolitionist--after it, as a Conservative, his sympathy with and for
+the South being very strong. During the draft riots in 1863 the spirit
+of lawlessness was on the point of breaking out in the river towns. I
+happened to be home from Virginia, and learned that my father's house
+was among those marked for burning on a certain night. During this
+night the horde gathered; but one of their leaders had received such
+empathetic warning of what would happen the following day should
+outrages be perpetrated, that he persuaded his associates to desist. I
+sat up that night at my father's door with a double-barrelled gun, more
+impressed with a sense of danger than at any other time in my
+experience; he, on the contrary, slept as quietly as a child.
+
+He often practiced close economy in order to give his sons a good
+education. The one act of my life which I remember with unalloyed pride
+and pleasure occurred while I was at boarding-school in Vermont,
+preparing for college. I learned through my mother that my father had
+denied himself his daily newspaper; and I knew well how much he would
+miss it. We burned wood in the large stone seminary building. Every
+autumn great ranks of hard maple were piled up, and students who wished
+to earn a little money were paid a dollar a cord for sawing it into
+three lengths. I applied for nine cords, and went at the unaccustomed
+task after study hours. My back aches yet as I recall the experiences
+of subsequent weeks, for the wood was heavy, thick, and hard as bone. I
+eventually had the pleasure of sending to my father the subscription
+price of his paper for a year. If a boy reads these lines, let me
+assure him that he will never know a sweeter moment in his life than
+when he receives the thanks of his parents for some such effort in
+their behalf. No investment can ever pay him better.
+
+In one of my books, "Nature's Serial Story," my father and mother
+appear, slightly idealized.
+
+Toward the close of my first year in Williams College a misfortune
+occurred which threatened to be very serious. Studying by defective
+light injured my eyes. They quickly became so sensitive that I could
+scarcely endure lamplight or the heat of a stove, only the cold
+out-door air relieving the pain; so I spent much time in wandering
+about in the boisterous weather of early spring in Williamstown. At
+last I became so discouraged that I went to President Hopkins and told
+him that I feared I must give up the purpose of acquiring an education.
+Never can I forget how that grand old man met the disheartened boy.
+Speaking in the wise, friendly way which subdued the heart and
+strengthened the will, he made the half-hour spent with him the
+turning-point of my life. In conclusion, he advised me to enter the
+Senior class the following fall, thus taking a partial course of study.
+How many men are living to-day who owe much of the best in their lives
+to that divinely inspired guide and teacher of youth!
+
+I next went to another man great in his sphere of life--Dr. Agnew, the
+oculist. He gave my eyes a thorough examination, told me that he could
+do nothing for them; that rest and the vigor acquired from out-door
+life would restore them. He was as kind and sympathetic in his way as
+the college president, and charged but a trifle, to relieve me from the
+sense of taking charity. Dr. Agnew's words proved correct; and the
+following autumn I entered the class of '61, and spent a happy year.
+Some of my classmates were very kind in reading aloud to me, while Dr.
+Hopkins's instruction was invaluable. By the time I entered Auburn
+Theological Seminary, my eyes were quite restored, and I was able to go
+through the first year's course of study without difficulty. In the
+summer of 1862 I could no longer resist the call for men in the army.
+Learning that the Second New York (Harris's Light) Cavalry was without
+a chaplain, I obtained the appointment to that position. General
+Kilpatrick was then lieutenant-colonel, and in command of the regiment.
+In December, 1862, I witnessed the bloody and disastrous battle of
+Fredericksburg, and can never forget the experiences of that useless
+tragedy. I was conscious of a sensation which struck me as too profound
+to be merely awe. Early in the morning we crossed the Rappahannock on a
+pontoon bridge and marched up the hill to an open plain. The roar of
+the battle was simply terrific, shading off from the sharp continuous
+thunder immediately about us to dull, heavy mutterings far to the right
+and left. A few hundred yards before us, where the ground began to
+slope up to the fatal heights crowned with Confederate works and
+ordnance, were long lines of Union batteries. From their iron mouths
+puffs of smoke issued incessantly, followed by tremendous
+reverberations. Back of these batteries the ground was covered with men
+lying on their arms, that they might present a less obvious target.
+Then a little further to the rear, on the level ground above the bluff,
+stood our cavalry. Heavy guns on both sides of the river were sending
+their great shrieking shells back and forth over our heads, and we
+often "ducked" instinctively when the missile was at least forty feet
+above us. Even our horses shuddered at the sound.
+
+I resolved to learn if the men were sharing in my emotions--in brief,
+what effect the situation had upon them--and rode slowly down our
+regimental line. So vivid was the impression of that long array of
+awed, pallid faces that at this moment I can recall them distinctly.
+There were strange little touches of mingled pathos and humor.
+Meadow-larks were hemmed in on every side, too frightened to fly far
+beyond the rude alarms. They would flutter up into the sulphurous air
+with plaintive cries, then drop again into the open spaces between the
+troops. At one time, while we were standing at our horses' heads, a
+startled rabbit ran to us for cover. The poor little creature meant a
+dinner to the fortunate captor on a day when a dinner was extremely
+problematical. We engaged in a sharp scramble, the prize being won by
+the regimental surgeon, who kindly shared his game with me.
+
+General Bayard, commanding our brigade, was mortally wounded, and died
+like a hero. He was carried to a fine mansion near which he had
+received his injury. Many other desperately wounded men were brought to
+the spacious rooms of this abode of Southern luxury, and the surgeons
+were kept busy all through the day and night. It was here I gained my
+first experience in hospital work. This extemporized hospital on the
+field was so exposed as to be speedily abandoned. In the morning I
+recrossed the Rappahannock with my regiment, which had been ordered
+down the river on picket duty. Soon after we went into winter quarters
+in a muddy cornfield. In February I resigned, with the purpose of
+completing my studies, and spent the remainder of the term at the Union
+Theological Seminary of New York. My regiment would not get another
+chaplain, so I again returned to it. In November I received a month's
+leave of absence, and was married to Miss Anna P. Sands, of New York
+City. Our winter quarters in 1864 were at Stevensburg, between the town
+of Culpeper and the Rapidan River. During the pleasant days of late
+February several of the officers were enjoying the society of their
+wives. Mrs. Roe having expressed a willingness to rough it with me for
+a week, I sent for her, and one Saturday afternoon went to the nearest
+railroad station to meet her. The train came, but not my wife; and,
+much disappointed, I found the return ride of five miles a dreary one
+in the winter twilight. I stopped at our colonel's tent to say to him
+and his wife that Mrs. Roe had not come, then learned for the first
+time very startling tidings.
+
+"Chaplain," said the colonel, "we are going to Richmond to-morrow. We
+are going to wade right through and past everything in a
+neck-or-nothing ride, and who will come out is a question."
+
+His wife was weeping in her private tent, and I saw that for the first
+time in my acquaintance with him he was downcast. He was one of the
+bravest of men, yet now a foreboding of evil oppressed him. The result
+justified it, for he was captured during the raid, and never fully
+rallied after the war from the physical depression caused by his
+captivity. He told me that on the morrow General Kilpatrick would lead
+four thousand picked cavalry men in a raid on Richmond, having as its
+special object the release of our prisoners. I rode to the headquarters
+of the general, who confirmed the tidings, adding, "You need not go.
+Non-combatants are not expected to go."
+
+It was most fortunate that my wife had not come. I had recently been
+appointed chaplain of Hampton Hospital, Virginia, by President Lincoln,
+and was daily expecting my confirmation by the Senate. I had fully
+expected to give my wife a glimpse of army life in the field, and then
+to enter on my new duties. To go or not to go was a question with me
+that night. The raid certainly offered a sharp contrast with the
+anticipated week's outing with my bride. I did not possess by nature
+that kind of courage which is indifferent to danger; and life had never
+offered more attractions than at that time. I have since enjoyed
+Southern hospitality abundantly, and hope to again, but then its
+prospect was not alluring. Before morning, however, I reached the
+decision that I would go, and during the Sunday forenoon held my last
+service in the regiment. I had disposed of my horse, and so had to take
+a sorry beast at the last moment, the only one I could obtain.
+
+In the dusk of Sunday evening four thousand men were masked in the
+woods on the banks of the Rapidan. Our scouts opened the way by wading
+the stream and pouncing upon the unsuspecting picket of twenty
+Confederates opposite. Then away we went across a cold, rapid river,
+marching all that night through the dim woods and openings in a country
+that was emphatically the enemy's. Lee's entire army was on our right,
+the main Confederate cavalry force on our left. The strength of our
+column and its objective point could not remain long unknown.
+
+In some unimportant ways I acted as aid for Kilpatrick. A few hundred
+yards in advance of the main body rode a vanguard of two hundred men,
+thrown forward to warn us should we strike any considerable number of
+the enemy's cavalry. As is ever the case, the horses of a small force
+will walk away from a much larger body, and it was necessary from time
+to time to send word to the vanguard, ordering it to "slow up." This
+order was occasionally intrusted to me. I was to gallop over the
+interval between the two columns, then draw up by the roadside and sit
+motionless on my horse till the general with his staff came up. The
+slightest irregularity of action would bring a shot from our own men,
+while the prospect of an interview with the Johnnies while thus
+isolated was always good. I saw one of our officers shot that night. He
+had ridden carelessly into the woods, and rode out again just before
+the head of the column, without instantly accounting for himself. As it
+was of vital importance to keep the movement secret as long as
+possible, the poor fellow was silenced in sad error as to his identity.
+
+On we rode, night and day, with the briefest possible halts. At one
+point we nearly captured a railroad train, and might easily have
+succeeded had not the station and warehouses been in flames. As it was,
+the train approached us closely, then backed, the shrieking engine
+itself giving the impression of being startled to the last degree.
+
+On a dreary, drizzling, foggy day we passed a milestone on which was
+lettered, "Four miles to Richmond." It was still "on to Richmond" with
+us what seemed a long way further, and then came a considerable period
+of hesitancy, in which the command was drawn up for the final dash. The
+enemy shelled a field near us vigorously, but fortunately, or
+unfortunately, the fog was so dense that neither party could make
+accurate observations or do much execution.
+
+For reasons that have passed into history, the attack was not made. We
+withdrew six miles from the city and went into camp.
+
+I had scarcely begun to enjoy much-needed rest before the Confederates
+came up in the darkness and shelled us out of such quarters as we had
+found. We had to leave our boiling coffee behind us--one of the
+greatest hardships I have ever known. Then followed a long night-ride
+down the Peninsula, in driving sleet and rain.
+
+The next morning the sun broke out gloriously, warming and drying our
+chilled, wet forms. Nearly all that day we maintained a line of battle
+confronting the pursuing enemy. One brigade would take a defensive
+position, while the other would march about five miles to a commanding
+point, where it in turn would form a line. The first brigade would then
+give way, pass through the second, and take position well to the rear.
+Thus, although retreating, we were always ready to fight. At one point
+the enemy pressed us closely, and I saw a magnificent cavalry charge
+down a gentle descent in the road. Every sabre seemed tipped with fire
+in the brilliant sunshine.
+
+In the afternoon it became evident that there was a body of troops
+before us. Who or what they were was at first unknown, and for a time
+the impression prevailed that we should have to cut our way through by
+a headlong charge. We soon learned, however, that the force was a
+brigade of colored infantry, sent up to cover our retreat. It was the
+first time we had seen negro troops, but as the long line of glistening
+bayonets and light-blue uniforms came into view, prejudices, if any
+there were, vanished at once, and a cheer from the begrimed troopers
+rang down our line, waking the echoes. It was a pleasant thing to march
+past that array of faces, friendly though black, and know we were safe.
+They represented the F.F.V.'s of Old Virginia, we then wished to see.
+On the last day of the march my horse gave out, compelling me to walk
+and lead him.
+
+On the day after our arrival at Yorktown, Kilpatrick gave me despatches
+for the authorities at Washington. President Lincoln, learning that I
+had just returned from the raid, sent for me, and I had a memorable
+interview with him alone in his private room. He expressed profound
+solicitude for Colonel Dahlgren and his party. They had been detached
+from the main force, and I could give no information concerning them.
+We eventually learned of the death of that heroic young officer,
+Colonel Dahlgren. Although partially helpless from the loss of a leg,
+he led a daring expedition at the cost of his life.
+
+I expressed regret to the President that the object of the raid had not
+been accomplished. "Pick the flint, and try it again," said Mr.
+Lincoln, heartily. I went out from his presence awed by the courage and
+sublime simplicity of the man. While he gave the impression that he was
+bearing the nation on his heart, one was made to feel that it was also
+large enough for sympathy with all striving with him in the humblest
+way.
+
+My wife joined me in Washington, and few days later accompanied me to
+the scene of my new labors at Hampton Hospital, near Fortress Monroe.
+There were not many patients at that time (March, 1864) in the large
+barrack wards; but as soon as the Army of the Potomac broke through the
+Wilderness and approached our vicinity, transports in increasing
+numbers, laden with desperately wounded men, came to our wharf. During
+the early summer the wooden barracks were speedily filled, and many
+tent wards were added. Duty became constant and severe, while the
+scenes witnessed were often painful in the last degree. More truly than
+on the field, the real horrors of war are learned from the long agonies
+in the hospital. While in the cavalry service, I gained in vigor daily;
+in two months of hospital work I lost thirty pounds. On one day I
+buried as many as twenty-nine men. Every evening, till the duty became
+like a nightmare, I followed the dead-cart, filled up with coffins,
+once, twice, and often thrice, to the cemetery. Eventually an associate
+chaplain was appointed, who relieved me of this task.
+
+Fortunately, my tastes led me to employ an antidote to my daily work as
+useful to me as to the patients. Surrounding the hospital was much
+waste land. This, with the approval of the surgeon in charge, Dr. Ely
+McMillan, and the aid of the convalescents, I transformed into a
+garden, and for two successive seasons sent to the general kitchen
+fresh vegetables by the wagon-load. If reward were needed, the wistful
+delight with which a patient from the front would regard a raw onion
+was ample; while for me the care of the homely, growing vegetables and
+fruit brought a diversion of mind which made life more endurable.
+
+One of the great needs of the patients who had to fight the winning or
+losing battle of life was good reading, and I speedily sought to obtain
+a supply. Hearts and purses at the North responded promptly and
+liberally; publishers threw off fifty per cent from their prices; and I
+was eventually able to collect, by gift and purchase, about three
+thousand volumes. In gathering this library, I provided what may be
+distinctly termed religious reading in abundance; but I also recognized
+the need of diversion. Long wards were filled with men who had lost a
+leg or an arm, and who must lie in one position for weeks. To help them
+get through the time was to help them to live. I therefore made the
+library rich in popular fiction and genial books of travel and
+biography. Full sets of Irving, Cooper, Dickens, Thackeray, Scott,
+Marryat, and other standard works were bought; and many a time I have
+seen a poor fellow absorbed in their pages while holding his stump lest
+the jar of a footstep should send a dart of agony to the point of
+mutilation. My wife gave much assistance in my hospital duties, often
+reaching and influencing those beyond me. I recall one poor fellow who
+was actually six months in dying from a very painful wound. Profanity
+appeared to be his vernacular, and in bitter protest at his fate, he
+would curse nearly every one and everything. Mrs. Roe's sympathy and
+attentions changed him very much, and he would listen quietly as long
+as she would read to him. Some of the hospital attendants, men and
+women, had good voices, and we organized a choir. Every Sunday
+afternoon we went from ward to ward singing familiar hymns. It was
+touching to see rough fellows drawing their blankets over their heads
+to hide the emotion caused by words and melodies associated, in many
+instances, with home and mother.
+
+Northern generosity, and, in the main, convalescent labor enabled me to
+build a large commodious chapel and to make great improvements in the
+hospital farm. The site of the hospital and garden is now occupied by
+General Armstrong's Normal and Agricultural Institute for Freedmen, and
+the chapel was occupied as a place of worship until very recently. Thus
+a noble and most useful work is being accomplished on the ground
+consecrated by the life-and-death struggles of so many Union soldiers.
+
+In 1865 the blessed era of peace began, bringing its many changes. In
+October the hospital became practically empty, and I resigned. The
+books were sent to Fortress Monroe for the use of the garrison, and I
+found many of them there long years after, almost worn out from use.
+
+After a little rest and some candidating for a church, I took a small
+parish at Highland Falls, about a mile from West Point, New York,
+entering on my labors in January, 1866. In this village my wife and I
+spent nine very happy years. They were full of trial and many cares,
+but free from those events which bring the deep shadows into one's
+life. We soon became engaged in building a new stone church, whose
+granite walls are so thick, and hard-wood finish so substantial that
+passing centuries should add only the mellowness of age. The effort to
+raise funds for this enterprise led me into the lecture-field and here
+I found my cavalry-raid and army life in general exceedingly useful. I
+looked around for a patch of garden-ground as instinctively as a duck
+seeks water. The small plot adjoining the parsonage speedily grew into
+about three acres, from which eventually came a book entitled "Play and
+Profit in my Garden."
+
+Up to the year 1871 I had written little for publication beyond
+occasional contributions to the New York "Evangelist," nor had I
+seriously contemplated a literary life. I had always been extremely
+fond of fiction, and from boyhood had formed a habit of beguiling the
+solitary hours in weaving crude fancies around people who for any
+reason interested me. I usually had a mental serial running, to which I
+returned when it was my mood; but I had never written even a short
+story. In October, 1871, I was asked to preach for a far uptown
+congregation in New York, with the possibility of a settlement in view.
+On Monday following the services of the Sabbath, the officers of the
+church were kind enough to ask me to spend a week with them and visit
+among the people. Meantime, the morning papers laid before us the
+startling fact that the city of Chicago was burning and that its
+population were becoming homeless. The tidings impressed me powerfully,
+waking the deepest sympathy. I said to myself, "Here is a phase of life
+as remarkable as any witnessed during the war." I obeyed the impulse to
+be on the scene as soon as possible, stated my purpose to my friends,
+and was soon among the smoking ruins, finding an abiding-place with
+throngs of others in a partially finished hotel. For days and nights I
+wandered where a city had been, and among the extemporized places of
+refuge harboring all classes of people. Late one night I sat for a long
+time on the steps of Robert Collyer's church and watched the full moon
+through the roofless walls and shattered steeple. There was not an
+evidence of life where had been populous streets. It was there and
+then, as nearly as I can remember, that the vague outlines of my first
+story, "Barriers Burned Away," began to take form in my mind. I soon
+returned home, and began to dream and write, giving during the
+following year such hours as could be withdrawn from many other duties
+to the construction of the story. I wrote when and where I could--on
+steamboats, in railway cars, and at all odd hours of leisure, often
+with long breaks in the work of composition, caused by the pressure of
+other affairs, again getting up a sort of white heat from incessantly
+dwelling upon scenes and incidents that had become real to me. In
+brief, the story took possession of my mind, and grew as naturally as a
+plant or a weed in my garden.
+
+It will thus be obvious that at nearly middle age, and in obedience to
+an impulse, I was launched as an author; that I had very slight
+literary training; and that my appearance as a novelist was quite as
+great a surprise to myself as to any of my friends. The writing of
+sermons certainly does not prepare one for the construction of a novel;
+and to this day certain critics contemptuously dismiss my books as
+"preaching." During nearly four years of army life, at a period when
+most young men are forming style and making the acquaintance of
+literature, I scarcely had a chance to read at all. The subsequent
+years of the pastorate were too active, except for an occasional dip
+into a favorite author.
+
+While writing my first story, I rarely thought of the public, the
+characters and their experiences absorbing me wholly. When my narrative
+was actually in print, there was wakened a very deep interest as to its
+reception. I had none of the confidence resulting from the gradual
+testing of one's power or from association with literary people, and I
+also was aware that, when published, a book was far away from the still
+waters of which one's friends are the protecting headlands. That I knew
+my work to be exceedingly faulty goes without saying; that it was
+utterly bad, I was scarcely ready to believe. Dr. Field, noted for his
+pure English diction and taste, would not publish an irredeemable
+story, and the constituency of the New York "Evangelist" is well known
+to be one of the most intelligent in the country. Friendly opinions
+from serial readers were reassuring as far as they went, but of course
+the great majority of those who followed the story were silent. A
+writer cannot, like a speaker, look into the eyes of his audience and
+observe its mental attitude toward his thought. If my memory serves me,
+Mr. R. R. Bowker was the earliest critic to write some friendly words
+in the "Evening Mail;" but at first my venture was very generally
+ignored. Then some unknown friend marked an influential journal
+published in the interior of the State and mailed it so timely that it
+reached me on Christmas eve. I doubt if a book was ever more
+unsparingly condemned than mine in that review, whose final words were,
+"The story is absolutely nauseating." In this instance and in my salad
+days I took pains to find out who the writer was, for if his view was
+correct I certainly should not engage in further efforts to make the
+public ill. I discovered the reviewer to be a gentleman for whom I have
+ever had the highest respect as an editor, legislator, and honest
+thinker. My story made upon him just the impression he expressed, and
+it would be very stupid on my part to blink the fact. Meantime, the
+book was rapidly making for itself friends and passing into frequent
+new editions. Even the editor who condemned the work would not assert
+that those who bought it were an aggregation of asses. People cannot be
+found by thousands who will pay a dollar and seventy-five cents for a
+dime novel or a religious tract. I wished to learn the actual truth
+more sincerely than any critic to write it, and at last I ventured to
+take a copy to Mr. George Ripley, of the New York "Tribune." "Here is a
+man," I thought, "whose fame and position as a critic are recognized by
+all. If he deigns to notice the book, he will not only say what he
+thinks, but I shall have much reason to think as he does." Mr. Ripley
+met the diffident author kindly, asked a few questions, and took the
+volume. A few weeks later, to my great surprise, he gave over a column
+to a review of the story. Although not blind to its many faults, he
+wrote words far more friendly and inspiring than I ever hoped to see;
+it would seem that the public had sanctioned his verdict. From that day
+to this these two instances have been types of my experience with many
+critics, one condemning, another commending. There is ever a third
+class who prove their superiority by sneering at or ignoring what is
+closely related to the people. Much thought over my experience led to a
+conclusion which the passing years confirm: the only thing for a writer
+is to be himself and take the consequences. Even those who regard me as
+a literary offender of the blackest dye have never named imitation
+among my sins.
+
+As successive books appeared, I began to recognize more and more
+clearly another phase of an author's experience. A writer gradually
+forms a constituency, certain qualities in his book appealing to
+certain classes of minds. In my own case, I do not mean classes of
+people looked at from the social point of view. A writer who takes any
+hold on popular attention inevitably learns the character of his
+constituency. He appeals, and minds and temperaments in sympathy
+respond. Those he cannot touch go on their way indifferently; those he
+offends may often strike back. This is the natural result of any strong
+assertion of individuality. Certainly, if I had my choice, I would
+rather write a book interesting to the young and to the common people,
+whom Lincoln said "God must love, since He made so many of them." The
+former are open to influence; the latter can be quickened and prepared
+for something better. As a matter of fact, I find that there are those
+in all classes whom my books attract, others who are repelled, as I
+have said. It is perhaps one of the pleasantest experiences of an
+author's life to learn from letters and in other ways that he is
+forming a circle of friends, none the less friendly because personally
+unknown. Their loyalty is both a safeguard and an inspiration. On one
+hand, the writer shrinks from abusing such regard by careless work; on
+the other, he is stimulated and encouraged by the feeling that there is
+a group in waiting who will appreciate his best endeavor. While I
+clearly recognize my limitations, and have no wish to emulate the frog
+in the fable, I can truthfully say that I take increasing pains with
+each story, aiming to verify every point by experience--my own or that
+of others. Not long since, a critic asserted that changes in one of my
+characters, resulting from total loss of memory, were preposterously
+impossible. If the critic had consulted Ribot's "Diseases of Memory,"
+or some experienced physician, he might have written more justly. I do
+not feel myself competent to form a valuable opinion as to good art in
+writing, and I cannot help observing that the art doctors disagree
+wofully among themselves. Truth to nature and the realities, and not
+the following of any school or fashion, has ever seemed the safest
+guide. I sometimes venture to think I know a little about human nature.
+My active life brought me in close contact with all kinds of people;
+there was no man in my regiment who hesitated to come to my tent or to
+talk confidentially by the campfire, while scores of dying men laid
+bare to me their hearts. I at least know the nature that exists in the
+human breast. It may be inartistic, or my use of it all wrong. That is
+a question which time will decide, and I shall accept the verdict. Over
+twelve years ago, certain oracles, with the voice of fate, predicted my
+speedy eclipse and disappearance. Are they right in their adverse
+judgment? I can truthfully say that now, as at the first, I wish to
+know the facts in the case. The moment an author is conceited about his
+work, he becomes absurd and is passing into a hopeless condition. If
+worthy to write at all, he knows that he falls far short of his ideals;
+if honest, he wishes to be estimated at his true worth, and to cast
+behind him the mean little Satan of vanity. If he walks under a
+conscious sense of greatness, he is a ridiculous figure, for beholders
+remember the literary giants of other days and of his own time, and
+smile at the airs of the comparatively little man. On the other hand,
+no self-respecting writer should ape the false deprecating "'umbleness"
+of Uriah Heep. In short, he wishes to pass, like a coin, for just what
+he is worth. Mr. Matthew Arnold was ludicrously unjust to the West when
+he wrote, "The Western States are at this moment being nourished and
+formed, we hear, on the novels of a native author called Roe." Why
+could not Mr. Arnold have taken a few moments to look into the
+bookstores of the great cities of the West, in order to observe for
+himself how the demand of one of the largest and most intelligent
+reading publics in the world is supplied? He would have found that the
+works of Scott and Dickens were more liberally purchased and generally
+read than in his own land of "distinction." He should have discovered
+when in this country that American statesmen (?) are so solicitous
+about the intelligence of their constituents that they give publishers
+so disposed every opportunity to steal novels describing the nobility
+and English persons of distinction; that tons of such novels have been
+sold annually in the West, a thousand to one of the "author called
+Roe." The simple truth in the case is that in spite of this immense and
+cheap competition, my novels have made their way and are being read
+among multitudes of others. No one buys or reads a book under
+compulsion; and if any one thinks that the poorer the book the better
+the chance of its being read by the American people, let him try the
+experiment. When a critic condemns my books, I accept that as his
+judgment; when another critic and scores of men and women, the peers of
+the first in cultivation and intelligence, commend the books, I do not
+charge them with gratuitous lying. My one aim has become to do my work
+conscientiously and leave the final verdict to time and the public. I
+wish no other estimate than a correct one; and when the public indicate
+that they have had enough of Roe, I shall neither whine nor write.
+
+As a rule, I certainly stumble on my stories, as well as stumble
+through them perhaps. Some incident or unexpected impulse is the
+beginning of their existence. One October day I was walking on a
+country road, and a chestnut burr lay in my path. I said to myself,
+"There is a book in that burr, if I could get it out." With little
+volition on my part, the story "Opening a Chestnut Burr" took form and
+was written.
+
+One summer evening, when in New York, I went up to Thomas's Garden,
+near Central Park, to hear the delicious music he was educating us to
+appreciate. At a certain point in the programme I noticed that the next
+piece would be Beethoven's Fifth Symphony, and I glanced around with a
+sort of congratulatory impulse, as much as to say, "Now we shall have a
+treat." My attention was immediately arrested and fixed by a young girl
+who, with the gentleman escorting her, was sitting near by. My first
+impression of her face was one of marvellous beauty, followed by a
+sense of dissatisfaction. Such was my distance that I could not annoy
+her by furtive observation; and I soon discovered that she would regard
+a stare as a tribute. Why was it that her face was so beautiful, yet so
+displeasing? Each feature analyzed seemed perfection, yet the general
+effect was a mocking, ill-kept promise. The truth was soon apparent.
+The expression was not evil, but frivolous, silly, unredeemed by any
+genuine womanly grace. She giggled and flirted through the sublime
+symphony, till in exasperation I went out into the promenade under the
+open sky. In less than an hour I had my story "A Face Illumined." I
+imagined an artist seeing what I had seen and feeling a stronger
+vexation in the wounding of his beauty loving nature; that he learned
+during the evening that the girl was a relative of a close friend, and
+that a sojourn at a summer hotel on the Hudson was in prospect. On his
+return home he conceives the idea of painting the girl's features and
+giving them a harmonious expression. Then the fancy takes him that the
+girl is a modern Undine and has not yet received her woman's soul. The
+story relates his effort to beautify, illumine the face itself by
+evoking a mind. I never learned who was the actual girl with the
+features of an angel and the face of a fool.
+
+In the case of "He Fell in Love with His Wife," I merely saw a
+paragraph in a paper to the effect that a middle-age widower, having
+found it next to impossible to carry on his farm with hired help, had
+gone to the county poorhouse and said "If there's a decent woman here,
+I'll marry her." For years the homely item remained an ungerminating
+seed in my mind, then started to grow, and the story was written in two
+months.
+
+My war experience has naturally made the picturesque phase of the Great
+Conflict attractive material. In the future I hope to avail myself
+still further of interesting periods in American history.
+
+I find that my love of horticulture and outdoor life has grown with the
+years. I do not pretend to scientific accuracy or knowledge. On the
+contrary, I have regarded plants and birds rather as neighbors, and
+have associated with them. When giving to my parish, I bought a place
+in the near vicinity of the house which I had spent my childhood. The
+front windows of our house command a noble view of the Hudson, while on
+the east and south the Highlands are within rifle-shot. For several
+years I hesitated to trust solely to literary work for support. As I
+have said, not a few critics insisted that my books should not be read,
+and would soon cease to be read. But whether the prediction should
+prove true or not, I knew in any case that the critics themselves would
+eat my strawberries; so I made the culture of small fruits the second
+string to my bow. This business speedily took the form of growing
+plants for sale, and was developing rapidly, when financial misfortune
+led to my failure and the devotion of my entire time to writing.
+Perhaps it was just as well in the end, for my health was being
+undermined by too great and conflicting demands on my energy. In 1878,
+at Dr. Holland's request, I wrote a series of papers on small fruits
+for "Scribner's Magazine"--papers that were expanded into a book
+entitled "Success with Small Fruits." I now aim merely at an abundant
+home supply of fruits and vegetables, but in securing this, find
+pleasure and profit in testing the many varieties catalogued and
+offered by nurserymen and seedsmen. About three years ago the editor of
+"Harper's Magazine" asked me to write one or two papers entitled "One
+Acre," telling its possessor how to make the most and best of it. When
+entering on the task, I found there was more in it than I had at first
+supposed. Changing the title to "The Home Acre," I decided to write a
+book or manual which might be useful in many rural homes. There are
+those who have neither time nor inclination to read the volumes and
+journals devoted to horticulture, who yet have gardens and trees in
+which they are interested. They wish to learn in the shortest, clearest
+way just what to do in order to secure success, without going into
+theories, whys, and wherefores, or concerning themselves with the
+higher mysteries of garden-lore. This work is now in course of
+preparation. In brief, my aim is to have the book grow out of actual
+experience, and not merely my own, either. As far as possible,
+well-known experts and authorities are consulted on every point. As a
+natural consequence, the book is growing, like the plants to which it
+relates. It cannot be written "offhand" or finished "on time" to suit
+any one except Dame Nature, who, being feminine, is often inscrutable
+and apparently capricious. The experience of one season is often
+reversed in the next, and the guide in gardening of whom I am most
+afraid is the man who is always sure he is right. It was my privilege
+to have the late Mr. Charles Downing as one of my teachers, and well do
+I remember how that honest, sagacious, yet docile student of nature
+would "put on the brakes" when I was passing too rapidly to
+conclusions. It has always been one of my most cherished purposes to
+interest people in the cultivation of the soil and rural life. My
+effort is to "boil down" information to the simplest and most practical
+form. Last spring, hundreds of varieties of vegetables and small fruits
+were planted. A carefully written record is being kept from the time of
+planting until the crop is gathered.
+
+My methods of work are briefly these: I go into my study immediately
+after breakfast--usually about nine o'clock--and write or study until
+three or four in the afternoon, stopping only for a light lunch. In the
+early morning and late afternoon I go around my place, giving
+directions to the men, and observing the condition of vegetables,
+flowers, and trees, and the general aspect of nature at the time. After
+dinner, the evening is devoted to the family, friends, newspapers, and
+light reading. In former years I wrote at night, but after a severe
+attack of insomnia this practice was almost wholly abandoned. As a
+rule, the greater part of a year is absorbed in the production of a
+novel, and I am often gathering material for several years in advance
+of writing.
+
+For manuscript purposes I use bound blankbooks of cheap paper. My
+sheets are thus kept securely together and in place--important
+considerations in view of the gales often blowing through my study and
+the habits of a careless man. This method offers peculiar advantages
+for interpolation, as there is always a blank page opposite the one on
+which I am writing. After correcting the manuscript, it is put in
+typewriting and again revised. There are also two revisions of the
+proof. While I do not shirk the tasks which approach closely to
+drudgery, especially since my eyesight is not so good as it was, I also
+obtain expert assistance. I find that when a page has become very
+familiar and I am rather tired of it, my mind wanders from the close,
+fixed attention essential to the best use of words. Perhaps few are
+endowed with both the inventive and the critical faculty. A certain
+inner sense enables one to know, according to his lights, whether the
+story itself is true or false; but elegance of style is due chiefly to
+training, to a cultivation like that of the ear for music. Possibly we
+are entering on an age in which the people care less for form, for
+phraseology, than for what seems to them true, real--for what, as they
+would express it, "takes hold of them." This is no plea or excuse for
+careless work, but rather a suggestion that the day of prolix, fine,
+flowery writing is passing. The immense number of well-written books in
+circulation has made success with careless, slovenly manuscripts
+impossible. Publishers and editors will not even read, much less
+publish them. Simplicity, lucidity, strength, a plunge in medias res,
+are now the qualities and conditions chiefly desired, rather than
+finely turned sentences in which it is apparent more labor has been
+expended on the vehicle than on what it contains. The questions of this
+eager age are, What has he to say? Does it interest us? As an author, I
+have felt that my only chance of gaining and keeping the attention of
+men and women was to know, to understand them, to feel with and for
+them in what constituted their life. Failing to do this, why should a
+line of my books be read? Who reads a modern novel from sense of duty?
+There are classics which all must read and pretend to enjoy whether
+capable of doing so or not. No critic has ever been so daft as to call
+any of my books a classic. Better books are unread because the writer
+is not en rapport with the reader. The time has passed when either the
+theologian, the politician, or the critic can take the American citizen
+metaphorically by the shoulder and send him along the path in which
+they think he should go. He has become the most independent being in
+the world, good-humoredly tolerant of the beliefs and fancies of
+others, while reserving, as a matter of course, the right to think for
+himself.
+
+In appealing to the intelligent American public, choosing for itself
+among the multitude of books now offered, it is my creed that an author
+should maintain completely and thoroughly his own individuality, and
+take the consequences. He cannot conjure strongly by imitating any one,
+or by representing any school or fashion. He must do his work
+conscientiously, for his readers know by instinct whether or not they
+are treated seriously and with respect. Above all, he must understand
+men and women sufficiently to interest them; for all the "powers that
+be" cannot compel them to read a book they do not like.
+
+My early experience in respect to my books in the British Dominions has
+been similar to that of many others. My first stories were taken by one
+or more publishers without saying "by your leave," and no returns made
+of any kind. As time passed, Messrs. Ward, Locke & Co., more than any
+other house, showed a disposition to treat me fairly. Increasing sums
+were given for successive books. Recently Mr. George Locke visited me,
+and offered liberal compensation for each new novel. He also agreed to
+give me five per cent copyright on all my old books published by him,
+no matter how obtained, in some instances revoking agreements which
+precluded the making of any such request on my part. In the case of
+many of these books he has no protection, for they are published by
+others; but he takes the simple ground that he will not sell any of my
+books without giving me a share in the profit. Such honorable action
+should tend to make piracy more odious than ever, on both sides of the
+sea. Other English firms have offered me the usual royalty, and I now
+believe that in spite of our House of Mis-Representatives at
+Washington, the majority of the British publishers are disposed to deal
+justly and honorably by American writers. In my opinion, the LOWER
+House in Congress has libelled and slandered the American people by
+acting as if their constituents, with thievish instincts, chuckled over
+pennies saved when buying pirated books. This great, rich, prosperous
+nation has been made a "fence," a receiver of stolen goods, and
+shamelessly committed to the crime for which poor wretches are sent to
+jail. Truly, when history is written, and it is learned that the whole
+power and statesmanship of the government were enlisted in behalf of
+the pork interest, while the literature of the country and the literary
+class were contemptuously ignored, it may be that the present period
+will become known as the Pork Era of the Republic. It is a strange fact
+that English publishers are recognizing our rights in advance of our
+own lawmakers.
+
+In relating his experience in the pages of this magazine, Mr. Julian
+Hawthorne said in effect that one of the best rewards of the literary
+life was the friends it enabled the writer to make. When giving me his
+friendship, he proved how true this is. In my experience the literary
+class make good, genial, honest friends, while their keen, alert minds
+and knowledge of life in many of its most interesting aspects give an
+unfailing charm to their society. One can maintain the most cordial and
+intimate relations with editors of magazines and journals if he will
+recognize that such relations should have no influence whatever in the
+acceptance or declination of manuscripts. I am constantly receiving
+letters from literary aspirants who appear to think that if I will use
+a little influence their stories or papers would be taken and paid for.
+I have no such influence, nor do I wish any, in regard to my own work.
+The conscientious editor's first duty is to his periodical and its
+constituents, and he would and should be more scrupulous in accepting a
+manuscript from a friend than from a stranger. To show resentment
+because a manuscript is returned is absurd, however great may be our
+disappointment.
+
+Perhaps one of the most perplexing and often painful experiences of an
+author comes from the appeals of those who hope through him to obtain
+immediate recognition as writers. One is asked to read manuscripts and
+commend them to publishers, or at least to give an opinion in regard to
+them, often to revise or even to rewrite certain portions. I remember
+that during one month I was asked to do work on the manuscripts of
+strangers that would require about a year of my time. The maker of such
+request does not realize that he or she is but one among many, and that
+the poor author would have to abandon all hope of supporting his family
+if he tried to comply. The majority who thus appeal to one know next to
+nothing of the literary life or the conditions of success. They write
+to the author in perfect good faith, often relating circumstances which
+touch his sympathies; yet if you tell them the truth about their
+manuscript, or say you have not time to read it, adding that you have
+no influence with editors or publishers beyond securing a careful
+examination of what is written, you feel that you are often set down as
+a churl, and your inability to comply with their wishes is regarded as
+the selfishness and arrogance of success. The worried author has also
+his own compunctions, for while he has tried so often and vainly to
+secure the recognition requested, till he is in despair of such effort,
+he still is haunted by the fear that he may overlook some genius whom
+it would be a delight to guide through what seems a thorny jungle to
+the inexperienced.
+
+In recalling the past, one remembers when he stood in such sore need of
+friends that he dislikes even the appearance of passing by on the other
+side. There are no riches in the world like stanch friends who prove
+themselves to be such in your need, your adversity, or your weakness. I
+have some treasured letters received after it had been telegraphed
+throughout the land that I was a bankrupt and had found myself many
+thousands of dollars worse off than nothing. The kindly words and
+looks, the cordial grasp of the hand, and the temporary loan
+occasionally, of those who stood by me when scarcely sane from
+overwork, trouble, and, worse than all, from insomnia, can never be
+forgotten while a trace of memory is left. Soon after my insolvency
+there came a date when all my interests in my books then published must
+be sold to the highest bidder. It seemed in a sense like putting my
+children up at auction; and yet I was powerless, since my interests
+under contracts were a part of my assets. These rights had been well
+advertised in the New York and county papers, as the statute required,
+and the popularity of the books was well known. Any one in the land
+could have purchased these books from me forever. A friend made the
+highest bid and secured the property. My rights in my first nine novels
+became his, legally and absolutely. There was even no verbal agreement
+between us--nothing but his kind, honest eyes to reassure me. He not
+only paid the sum he had bidden, but then and there wrote a check for a
+sum which, with my other assets, immediately liquidated my personal
+debts, principal and interest. The children of my fancy are again my
+children, for they speedily earned enough to repay my friend and to
+enable him to compromise with the holders of indorsed notes in a way
+satisfactory to them. It so happened that most of these creditors
+resided in my immediate neighborhood. I determined to fight out the
+battle in their midst and under their daily observation, and to treat
+all alike, without regard to their legal claims. Only one creditor
+tried to make life a burden; but he did his level best. The others
+permitted me to meet my obligations in my own time and way, and I am
+grateful for their consideration. When all had received the sum
+mutually agreed upon, and I had shaken hands with them, I went to the
+quaint and quiet little city of Santa Barbara, on the Pacific coast,
+for a change and partial rest. While there, however, I wrote my
+Charleston story, "The Earth Trembled." In September, 1887, I returned
+to my home at Cornwall-on-the-Hudson, and resumed my work in a region
+made dear by the memories of a lifetime. Just now I am completing a
+Southern story entitled "Miss Lou."
+
+It so happens in my experience that I have discovered one who appears
+willing to stick closer to me than a brother, and even to pass as my
+"double," or else he is so helplessly in the hands of his publishers as
+to be an object of pity. A certain "Edward R. Roe" is also an author,
+and is suffering cruelly in reputation because his publishers so manage
+that he is identified with me. By strange coincidence, they hit upon a
+cover for his book which is almost a facsimile of the cover of my
+pamphlet novel, "An Original Belle," previously issued. The R in the
+name of this unfortunate man has been furnished with such a diminutive
+tail that it passes for a P, and even my friends supposed that the
+book, offered everywhere for sale, was mine. In many instances I have
+asked at news stands, "Whose book is that?" The prompt and invariable
+answer has been, "E. P. Roe's." I have seen book notices in which the
+volume was ascribed to me in anything but flattering terms. A
+distinguished judge, in a carefully written opinion, is so uncharitable
+as to characterize the coincidence in cover as a "fraud," and to say,
+"No one can look at the covers of the two publications and fail to see
+evidence of a design to deceive the public and to infringe upon the
+rights of the publisher and author"--that is, the rights of Messrs.
+Dodd, Mead would be well, as a rule, for other writers to begin with
+reputable, honorable publishers and to remain with them. A publisher
+can do more and better with a line of books than with isolated volumes.
+When an author's books are scattered, there is not sufficient
+inducement for any one to push them strongly, nor, as in the case above
+related, to protect a writer against a "double," should one appear.
+Authors often know little about business, and should deal with a
+publisher who will look after their interests as truly as his own.
+Unbusinesslike habits and methods are certainly not traits to be
+cultivated, for we often suffer grievously from their existence; yet as
+far as possible the author should be free from distracting cares. The
+novelist does his best work when abstracted from the actual world and
+living in its ideal counterpart which for the time he is imagining.
+When his creative work is completed, he should live very close to the
+real world, or else he will be imagining a state of things which
+neither God nor man had any hand in bringing about.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+TAKEN ALIVE AND OTHER STORIES
+
+
+
+
+TAKEN ALIVE
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+SOMETHING BEFORE UNKNOWN
+
+
+Clara Heyward was dressed in deep mourning, and it was evident that the
+emblems of bereavement were not worn merely in compliance with a social
+custom. Her face was pallid from grief, and her dark beautiful eyes
+were dim from much weeping. She sat in the little parlor of a cottage
+located in a large Californian city, and listened with apathetic
+expression as a young man pleaded for the greatest and most sacred gift
+that a woman can bestow. Ralph Brandt was a fine type of young vigorous
+manhood; and we might easily fancy that his strong, resolute face, now
+eloquent with deep feeling, was not one upon which a girl could look
+with indifference. Clara's words, however, revealed the apparent
+hopelessness of his suit.
+
+"It's of no use, Ralph," she said; "I'm in no mood for such thoughts."
+
+"You don't believe in me; you don't trust me," he resumed sadly. "You
+think that because I was once wild, and even worse, that I'll not be
+true to my promises and live an honest life. Have I not been honest
+when I knew that being so might cost me dear? Have I not told you of my
+past life and future purposes when I might have concealed almost
+everything?"
+
+"It's not that, Ralph. I do believe you are sincere; and if the
+dreadful thing which has broken me down with sorrow had not happened,
+all might have been as you wish. I should have quite as much confidence
+in a young man who, like you, has seen evil and turned resolutely away
+from it, as in one who didn't know much about the world or himself
+either. What's more, father--"
+
+At the word "father" her listless manner vanished, and she gave way to
+passionate sobs. "His foul murder is always before me," she wailed.
+"Oh, we were so happy! he was so kind, and made me his companion! I
+don't see how I can live without him. I can't think of love and
+marriage when I remember how he died, and that the villain who killed
+him is at large and unpunished. What right have I to forget this great
+wrong and to try to be happy? No, no! the knife that killed him pierced
+my heart; and it's bleeding all the time. I'm not fit to be any man's
+wife; and I will not bring my great sorrow into any man's home."
+
+Brandt sprang up and paced the room for a few moments, his brow
+contracted in deep thought. Then, apparently coming to a decision, he
+sat down by his companion and took her cold, unresisting hand.
+
+"My poor little girl," he said, kindly, "you don't half understand me
+yet. I love you all the more because you are heart-broken and pale with
+grief. That is the reason I have spoken so earnestly to-night. You will
+grieve yourself to death if left alone; and what good would your death
+do any one? It would spoil my life. Believe me, I would welcome you to
+my home with all your sorrow--all the more because of your sorrow; and
+I'd be so kind and patient that you'd begin to smile again some day.
+That's what your father would wish if he could speak to you, and not
+that you should grieve away your life for what can't be helped now. But
+I have a plan. It's right in my line to capture such scoundrels as the
+man who murdered your father; and what's more, I know the man, or
+rather I used to in old times. I've played many a game of euchre with
+him in which he cheated me out of money that I'd be glad to have now;
+and I'm satisfied that he does not know of any change in me. I was away
+on distant detective duty, you know, when your father was killed. I
+won't ask you to go over the painful circumstances; I can learn them at
+the prison. I shall try to get permission to search out Bute, desperate
+and dangerous as he is--"
+
+"Oh, Ralph, Ralph," cried the girl, springing up, her eyes flashing
+through her tears, "if you will bring my father's murderer to justice,
+if you will prevent him from destroying other lives, as he surely will,
+you will find that I can refuse you nothing."
+
+Then she paused, shook her head sadly, and withdrew the hand she had
+given him. "No," she resumed, "I shouldn't ask this; I don't ask it. As
+you say, he is desperate and dangerous; and he would take your life the
+moment he dreamed of your purpose. I should only have another cause for
+sorrow."
+
+Brandt now smiled as if he were master of the situation. "Why, Clara,"
+he exclaimed, "don't you know that running down and capturing
+desperadoes is now part of my business?"
+
+"Yes; but you can get plenty of work that isn't so dangerous."
+
+"I should be a nice fellow to ask you to be my wife and yet show I was
+afraid to arrest your father's murderer. You needn't ask me to do this;
+you are not going to be responsible for my course in the least. I shall
+begin operations this very night, and have no doubt that I can get a
+chance to work on the case. Now don't burden your heart with any
+thoughts about my danger. I myself owe Bute as big a grudge as I can
+have against any human being. He cheated me and led me into deviltry
+years ago, and then I lost sight of him until he was brought to the
+prison of which your father was one of the keepers. I've been absent
+for the last three months, you know; but I didn't forget you or your
+father a day, and you remember I wrote you as soon as I heard of your
+trouble. I think your father sort of believed in me; he never made me
+feel I wasn't fit to see you or to be with you, and I'd do more for him
+living or dead than for any other man."
+
+"He did believe in you, Ralph, and he always spoke well of you. Oh, you
+can't know how much I lost in him! After mother died he did not leave
+me to the care of strangers, but gave me most of his time when off
+duty. He sent me to the best schools, bought me books to read, and took
+me out evenings instead of going off by himself, as so many men do. He
+was so kind and so brave; oh, oh! you know he lost his life by trying
+to do his duty when another man would have given up. Bute and two
+others broke jail. Father saw one of his assistants stabbed, and he was
+knocked down himself. He might have remained quiet and escaped with a
+few bruises; but he caught Bute's foot, and then the wretch turned and
+stabbed him. He told me all with his poor pale lips before he died. Oh,
+oh! when shall I forget?"
+
+"You can never forget, dear; I don't ask anything contrary to nature.
+You were a good daughter, and so I believe you will be a good wife. But
+if I bring the murderer to justice, you will feel that a great wrong
+has been righted--that all has been done that can be done. Then you'll
+begin to think that your father wouldn't wish you to grieve yourself to
+death, and that as he tried to make you happy while he was living, so
+he will wish you to be happy now he's gone."
+
+"It isn't a question of happiness. I don't feel as if I could ever be
+happy again; and so I don't see how I can make you or any one else
+happy."
+
+"That's my lookout, Clara. I'd be only too glad to take you as you are.
+Come, now, this is December. If I bring Bute in by Christmas, what will
+you give me?"
+
+She silently and eloquently gave him her hand; but her lips quivered so
+she could not speak. He kissed her hand as gallantly as any olden-time
+knight, then added a little brusquely:
+
+"See here, little girl, I'm not going to bind you by anything that
+looks like a bargain. I shall attempt all I've said; and then on
+Christmas, or whenever I get back, I'll speak my heart to you again
+just as I have spoken now."
+
+"When a man acts as you do, Ralph, any girl would find it hard to keep
+free. I shall follow you night and day with my thoughts and prayers."
+
+"Well, I'm superstitious enough to believe that I shall be safer and
+more successful on account of them. Clara, look me in the eyes before I
+go."
+
+She looked up to his clear gray eyes as requested.
+
+"I don't ask you to forget one who is dead; but don't you see how much
+you are to one who is living? Don't you see that in spite of all your
+sorrow you can still give happiness? Now, be as generous and kind as
+you can. Don't grieve hopelessly while I'm gone. That's what is killing
+you; and the thought of it fills me with dread. Try to think that you
+still have something and some one to live for. Perhaps you can learn to
+love me a little if you try, and then everything won't look so black.
+If you find you can't love me, I won't blame you--, and if I lose you
+as my wife, you won't lose a true, honest friend."
+
+For the first time the girl became vaguely conscious of, the
+possibility of an affection, a tie superseding all others; she began to
+see how it was possible to give herself to this man, not from an
+impulse of gratitude or because she liked him better than any one else,
+but because of a feeling, new, mysterious, which gave him a sort of
+divine right in her. Something in the expression of his eyes had been
+more potent than his words; something subtle, swift as an electric
+spark had passed from him to her, awakening a faint, strange tumult in
+the heart she thought so utterly crushed. A few moments before, she
+could have promised resolutely to be his wife; she could have permitted
+his embrace with unresponsive apathy. Now she felt a sudden shyness. A
+faint color stole into her pale face, and she longed to be alone.
+
+"Ralph," she faltered, "you are so generous, I--I don't know what to
+say."
+
+"You needn't say anything till I come back. If possible, I will be here
+by Christmas, for you shouldn't be alone that day with your grief.
+Good-by."
+
+The hand she gave him trembled, and her face was averted now.
+
+"You will try to love me a little, won't you?"
+
+"Yes," she whispered.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+A VISITOR AT THE MINE
+
+
+Ralph Brandt was admirably fitted for the task he had undertaken. With
+fearlessness he united imperturbable coolness and unwearied patience in
+pursuit of an object. Few knew him in his character of detective, and
+no one would have singled him out as an expert in his calling. The more
+difficult and dangerous the work, the more careless and indifferent his
+manner, giving the impression to superficial observers of being the
+very last person to be intrusted with responsible duty. But his chief
+and others on the force well knew that beneath Brandt's careless
+demeanor was concealed the relentless pertinacity of a bloodhound on
+track of its victim. With the trait of dogged pursuit all resemblance
+to the bloodthirsty animal ceased, and even the worst of criminals
+found him kind-hearted and good-natured AFTER they were within his
+power. Failure was an idea not to be entertained. If the man to be
+caught existed, he could certainly be found, was the principle on which
+our officer acted.
+
+He readily obtained permission to attempt the capture of the escaped
+prisoner, Bute; but the murderer had disappeared, leaving no clew.
+Brandt learned that the slums of large cities and several mining camps
+had been searched in vain, also that the trains running east had been
+carefully watched. We need not try to follow his processes of thought,
+nor seek to learn how he soon came to the conclusion that his man was
+at some distant mining station working under an assumed name. By a kind
+of instinct his mind kept reverting to one of these stations with
+increasing frequency. It was not so remote in respect to mere distance;
+but it was isolated, off the lines of travel, with a gap of seventy
+miles between it and what might be termed civilization, and was
+suspected of being a sort of refuge for hard characters and fugitives
+from justice. Bute, when last seen, was making for the mountains in the
+direction of this mine. Invested with ample authority to bring in the
+outlaw dead or alive, Brandt followed this vague clew.
+
+One afternoon, Mr. Alford, the superintendent of the mine, was informed
+that a man wished to see him. There was ushered into his private office
+an elderly gentleman who appeared as if he might be a prospecting
+capitalist or one of the owners of the mine. The superintendent was
+kept in doubt as to the character of the visitor for a few moments
+while Brandt sought by general remarks and leading questions to learn
+the disposition of the man who must, from the necessities of the case,
+become to some extent his ally in securing the ends of justice.
+Apparently the detective was satisfied, for he asked, suddenly:
+
+"By the way, have you a man in your employ by the name of Bute?"
+
+"No, sir," replied Mr. Alford, with a little surprise.
+
+"Have you a man, then, who answers to the following description?" He
+gave a brief word photograph of the criminal.
+
+"You want this man?" Mr. Alford asked in a low voice.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, really, sir, I would like to know your motive, indeed, I may
+add, your authority, for--"
+
+"There it is," Brand smilingly remarked, handing the superintendent a
+paper.
+
+"Oh, certainly, certainly," said Mr. Alford, after a moment. "This is
+all right; and I am bound to do nothing to obstruct you in the
+performance of your duty." He now carefully closed the door and added,
+"What do you want this man for?"
+
+"It's a case of murder."
+
+"Phew! Apparently he is one of the best men on the force."
+
+"Only apparently; I know him well."
+
+Mr. Alford's brow clouded with anxiety, and after a moment he said,
+"Mr.--how shall I address you?"
+
+"You had better continue to call me by the name under which I was
+introduced--Brown."
+
+"Well, Mr. Brown, you have a very difficult and hazardous task, and you
+must be careful how you involve me in your actions. I shall not lay a
+straw in your way, but I cannot openly help you. It is difficult for me
+to get labor here at best; and it is understood that I ask no questions
+and deal with men on the basis simply of their relations to me. As long
+as I act on this understanding, I can keep public sentiment with me and
+enforce some degree of discipline. If it were known that I was aiding
+or abetting you in the enterprise you have in hand, my life would not
+be worth a rush. There are plenty in camp who would shoot me, just as
+they would you, should they learn of your design. I fear you do not
+realize what you are attempting. A man like yourself, elderly and
+alone, has no better chance of taking such a fellow as you describe
+Bute to be than of carrying a ton of ore on his back down the mountain.
+In all sincerity, sir, I must advise you to depart quietly and
+expeditiously, and give no one besides myself a hint of your errand."
+
+"Will you please step into the outer office and make sure that no one
+is within earshot?" said Brandt, quietly.
+
+When Mr. Alford returned, the elderly man apparently had disappeared,
+and a smiling smooth-faced young fellow with short brown hair sat in
+his place. His host stared, the transformation was so great.
+
+"Mr. Alford," said the detective, "I understand my business and the
+risks it involves. All I ask of you is that I may not be interfered
+with so far as you are concerned; and my chief object in calling is to
+prevent you being surprised by anything you may see or hear. About
+three miles or thereabouts from here, on the road running east, there
+is a fellow who keeps a tavern. Do you know him?"
+
+"I know no good of him. He's the worst nuisance I have to contend with,
+for he keeps some of my men disabled much of the time."
+
+"Well, I knew Bute years ago, and I can make him think I am now what I
+was then, only worse; and I will induce him to go with me to raid that
+tavern. If this plan fails, I shall try another, for I am either going
+to take Bute alive or else get ample proof that he is dead. There may
+be some queer goings-on before I leave, and all I ask is that you will
+neither interfere nor investigate. You may be as ignorant and
+non-committal as you please. I shall report progress to you, however,
+and may need your testimony, but will see to it that it is given by you
+as one who had nothing to do with the affair. Now please show me your
+quarters, so that I can find you at night if need be; also Bute's
+sleeping-place and the lay of the land to some extent. You'll find that
+I can take everything in mighty quick. See, I'm the elderly gentleman
+again," and he resumed his disguise with marvellous celerity.
+
+Mr. Alford led the way through the outer office; and the two clerks
+writing there saw nothing to awaken the slightest suspicion. The
+superintendent's cottage stood on the road leading to the mine and
+somewhat apart from the other buildings. On the opposite side of the
+highway was a thicket of pines which promised cover until one plunged
+into the unbroken forest that covered the mountain-side.
+
+Brandt observed this, and remarked, "I've studied the approaches to
+your place a little at I came along; but I suppose I shall have to give
+a day or two more to the work before making my attempt."
+
+"Well," rejoined Mr. Alford, who was of rather a social turn and felt
+the isolation of his life, "why not be my guest for a time? I'll take
+the risk if you will remain incog., and keep aloof from the men."
+
+"That I should do in any event till ready to act. Thank you for your
+kindness, for it may simplify my task very much. I will see to it that
+I do not compromise you. When I'm ready to snare my bird, you can
+dismiss me a little ostentatiously for New York."
+
+Brandt's horse was now ordered to the stable. The two men entered the
+cottage, and soon afterward visited the different points of interest,
+Mr. Alford giving the natural impression that he was showing an
+interested stranger the appliances for working the mine. At one point
+he remarked in a low tone, "That's Bute's lodging-place. A half-breed,
+named Apache Jack, who speaks little English lives with him."
+
+Brandt's seemingly careless and transitory glance rested on a little
+shanty and noted that it was separated from others of its class by a
+considerable interval.
+
+"Bute, you say, is on the day-shift."
+
+"Yes, he won't be up till six o'clock."
+
+"I'll manage to see him then without his knowing it."
+
+"Be careful. I take my risk on the ground of your good faith and
+prudence."
+
+"Don't fear."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THWARTED
+
+
+Brandt maintained his disguise admirably. His presence caused little
+comment, and he was spoken of as a visiting stockholder of the mine.
+During his walk with Mr. Alford he appeared interested only in
+machinery, ores, etc., but his trained eyes made a topographical map of
+surroundings, and everything centred about Bute's shanty. In the
+evening, he amply returned his host's hospitality by comic and tragic
+stories of criminal life. The next day he began to lay his plans
+carefully, and disappeared soon after breakfast with the ostensible
+purpose of climbing a height at some distance for the sake of the
+prospect. He soon doubled round, noting every covert approach to Bute's
+lodgings. His eye and ear were as quick as an Indian's; but he still
+maintained, in case he was observed, the manner of an elderly stranger
+strolling about to view the region.
+
+By noon he felt that he had the immediate locality by heart. His
+afternoon task was to explore the possibilities of a stream that
+crossed the mine road something over a mile away, and for this purpose
+he mounted his horse. He soon reached the shallow ford, and saw that
+the water was backed up for a considerable distance, and that the
+shallows certainly extended around a high, jutting rock which hid the
+stream from that point and beyond from the road. The bed appeared
+smooth, firm, and sandy, and he waded his horse up the gentle current
+until he was concealed from the highway. A place, however, was soon
+reached where the water came tumbling down over impassable rocks; and
+he was compelled to ascend the wooded shore. This he did on the side
+nearest to the mine house, and found that with care he could lead his
+horse to a point that could not be, he thought, over half a mile from
+the superintendent's cottage. Here there was a little dell around which
+the pines grew so darkly and thickly that he determined to make it his
+covert should he fail in his first attempt. His object now was to see
+if his estimate of proximity to the mine was correct; and leaving his
+horse, he pushed up the mountain-side. At last he reached a precipitous
+ledge. Skirting this a short distance, he found a place of
+comparatively easy ascent, and soon learned with much satisfaction that
+he was not over two hundred yards from the thicket opposite Mr.
+Alford's quarters. These discoveries all favored possible future
+operations; and he retraced his steps, marking his returning path by
+bits of white paper, held in place by stones against the high
+prevailing winds. Near the spot where he had left his horse he found a
+nook among the rocks in which a fire would be well hidden. Having
+marked the place carefully with his eye and obtained his bearings, he
+led his horse back to the stream and reached the unfrequented road
+again without being observed.
+
+His next task was to discover some kind of a passageway from the mine
+road to a point on the main highway, leading to the west and out of the
+mountains. He found no better resource than to strike directly into the
+forest and travel by points of the compass. Fortunately, the trees were
+lofty and comparatively open, and he encountered no worse difficulties
+than some steep and rugged descents, and at last emerged on the post
+road at least a mile to the west of the tavern, which stood near its
+intersection with the mine road; Returning, he again marked out a path
+with paper as he had before. The sun was now low in the sky; and as he
+trotted toward the mine, he had but one more precaution to take, and
+that was to find a place where the trees were sufficiently open to
+permit him to ride into their shade at night in case he wished to avoid
+parties upon the road. Having indicated two or three such spots by a
+single bit of paper that would glimmer in the moonlight, he joined Mr.
+Alford at supper, feeling that his preparations were nearly complete.
+When they were alone, he told his host that it would be best not to
+gratify his curiosity, for then he could honestly say that he knew
+nothing of any detective's plans or whereabouts.
+
+"I cannot help feeling," said Mr. Alford, "that you are playing with
+fire over a powder magazine. Now that I know you better, I hate to
+think of the risk that you are taking. It has troubled me terribly all
+day. I feel as if we were on the eve of a tragedy. You had better leave
+quietly in the morning and bring a force later that would make
+resistance impossible, or else give it up altogether. Why should you
+throw away your life? I tell you again that if the men get a hint of
+your character or purpose they will hunt you to death."
+
+"It's a part of my business to incur such risks," replied Brandt,
+quietly. "Besides, I have a motive in this case which would lead me to
+take a man out of the jaws of hell."
+
+"That's what you may find you are attempting here. Well, we're in for
+it now, I suppose, since you are so determined."
+
+"I don't think you will appear involved in the affair at all. In the
+morning you give me a sack of grain for my horse and some provisions
+for myself, and then bid farewell to Mr. Brown in the most open and
+natural manner possible. You may not see me again. It is possible I may
+have to borrow a horse of you it my scheme to-night don't work. It will
+be returned or paid for very soon."
+
+"Bute has a pony. He brought it with him, and he and Apache Jack
+between them manage to keep it. They stable it nights in a little shed
+back of their shanty."
+
+"I had discovered this, and hope to take the man away on his pony. I
+understand why Bute keeps the animal. He knew that he might have to
+travel suddenly and fast."
+
+The next morning Mr. Alford parted with Brandt as had been arranged,
+the latter starting ostensibly for the nearest railway station. All day
+long the superintendent was nervous and anxious; but he saw no
+evidences of suspicion or uneasiness among those in his employ.
+
+Brandt rode at a sharp canter as long as he was in sight, and then
+approached the stream slowly and warily. When satisfied that he was
+unobserved, he again passed up its shallow bed around the concealing
+rock, and sought his hiding-place on the mountain-side. Aware that the
+coming nights might require ceaseless activity, his first measure was
+to secure a few hours of sound sleep; and he had so trained himself
+that he could, as it were, store up rest against long and trying
+emergencies. The rocks sheltered him against the wind, and a fire gave
+all the comfort his hardy frame required, as he reposed on his couch of
+pine-needles. Early in the afternoon he fed his horse, took a hearty
+meal himself, and concealed the remaining store so that no wild
+creatures could get at it. At early twilight he returned by way of the
+stream and hid his horse well back in the woods near the mine. To this
+he now went boldly, and inquired for Tim Atkins, Bute's assumed name.
+He was directed to the shanty with which he had already made himself so
+familiar.
+
+Bute was found alone, and was much surprised at sight of his old
+gambling acquaintance of better days, for his better days were those of
+robbery before he had added the deeper stain of murder. Brandt soon
+allayed active fears and suspicions by giving the impression that in
+his descensus he had reached the stage of robbery and had got on the
+scent of some rich booty in the mountains. "But how did you know I was
+here?" demanded Bute.
+
+"I didn't know it," replied Brandt, adopting his old vernacular; "but I
+guessed as much, for I knew there was more'n one shady feller in this
+gang, and I took my chances on findin' you, for, says I to myself, if I
+can find Bute, I've found the right man to help me crack a ranch when
+there's some risk and big plunder."
+
+He then disclosed the fact of hearing that the keeper of the tavern had
+accumulated a good sum of hard money, and was looking out for a chance
+to send it to a bank. "We can save him the trouble, yer know," he
+concluded, facetiously.
+
+"Well," said Bute, musingly, "I'm gittin' tired of this dog's life, and
+I reckon I'll go snacks with yer and then put out fer parts unknown. I
+was paid t'other day, and there ain't much owin' me here. I guess it'll
+be safer fer me ter keep movin' on, too."
+
+"You may well say that, Bute. I heard below that there was goin' to be
+some investigations inter this gang, and that there was more'n one
+feller here whose pictur was on exhibition."
+
+"That so?" said Bute, hastily. "Well, I'll go with yer ter-night, fer
+it's time I was movin'. I kin tell yer one thing, though--there'll be
+no investigations here unless a fair-sized regiment makes it. Every man
+keeps his shooter handy."
+
+"Hanged if we care how the thing turns out. You and me'll be far enough
+away from the shindy. Now make your arrangements prompt, for we must be
+on the road by nine o'clock, so we can get through early in the night
+and have a good start with the swag. My plan is to ambush the whiskey
+shop, go and demand drinks soon after everybody is gone, and then
+proceed to business."
+
+"Can't we let my mate, Apache Jack, in with us? I'll stand for him."
+
+"No, no, I don't know anything about Apache Jack; and I can trust you.
+We can manage better alone, and I'd rather have one-half than
+one-third."
+
+"Trust me, kin you? you--fool," thought Bute. "So ye thinks I'll sit
+down and divide the plunder socially with you when I kin give yer a
+quiet dig in the ribs and take it all. One more man now won't matter.
+I'm a-goin' ter try fer enough ter-night ter take me well out of these
+parts."
+
+Bute's face was sinister enough to suggest any phase of evil, and
+Brandt well knew that he was capable of what he meditated. It was now
+the policy of both parties, however, to be very friendly, and Bute was
+still further mellowed by a draught of liquor from Brandt's flask.
+
+They had several games of cards in which it was managed that Bute's
+winnings should be the larger; and at nine in the evening they started
+on what was to Bute another expedition of robbery and murder. Mr.
+Alford, who was on the alert, saw them depart with a deep sigh of
+relief. The night was cloudy, but the moon gave plenty of light for
+travelling. Brandt soon secured his horse, and then appeared to give
+full rein to his careless, reckless spirit.
+
+As they approached the stream, he remarked, "I say, Bute, it's too bad
+we can't use the pasteboards while on the jog; but I can win a five out
+of you by an old game of ours. I bet you I can empty my revolver
+quicker 'n you can."
+
+"We'd better save our amernition and make no noise."
+
+"Oh, pshaw! I always have better luck when I'm free and careless like.
+It's your sneaking fellers that always get caught. Besides, who'll
+notice? This little game is common enough all through the mountains,
+and everybody knows that there's no mischief in such kind of firing. I
+want to win back some of my money."
+
+"Well, then, take you up; go ahead."
+
+Instantly from Brandt's pistol there were six reports following one
+another so quickly that they could scarcely be distinguished.
+
+"Now beat that if you can!" cried Brandt, who had a second and
+concealed revolver ready for an emergency.
+
+"The fool!" thought Bute, "to put himself at the marcy of any man. I
+can pluck him to-night like a winged pa'tridge;" but he too fired
+almost as quickly as his companion.
+
+"You only used five ca'tridges in that little game, my friend," said
+Brandt.
+
+"Nonsense! I fired so quick you couldn't count 'em."
+
+"Now see here, Bute," resumed Brandt, in an aggrieved tone, "you've got
+to play fair with me. I've cut my eye-teeth since you used to fleece
+me, and I'll swear you fired only five shots. Let's load and try again."
+
+"What the use of sich ---- nonsense? You'll swar that you fired the
+quickest; and of course I'll swar the same, and there's nobody here ter
+jedge. What's more, Ralph Brandt, I wants you and every man ter know
+that I always keeps a shot in reserve, and that I never misses. So
+let's load and jog on, and stop foolin'."
+
+"That scheme has failed," thought Brandt, as he replaced the shells
+with cartridges.
+
+His purpose was to find a moment when his companion was completely in
+his power, and it came sooner than he expected. When they drew near the
+brook, it was evident that Bute's pony was thirsty, for it suddenly
+darted forward and thrust its nose into the water. Therefore, for an
+instant, Bute was in advance with his back toward the detective.
+Covering the fellow with his revolver, Brandt shouted:
+
+"Bute, throw up your hands; surrender, or you are a dead man!"
+
+Instantly the truth flashed through the outlaw's mind. Instead of
+complying, he threw himself forward over the pony's neck and urged the
+animal forward. Brandt fired, and Bute fell with a splash into the
+water. At that moment three miners, returning from the tavern, came
+shouting to the opposite side of the stream. The frightened pony,
+relieved of its burden, galloped homeward. Brandt also withdrew rapidly
+toward the mine for some distance, and then rode into the woods. Having
+tied his horse well back from the highway, he reconnoitred the party
+that had so inopportunely interfered with his plans. He discovered that
+they were carrying Bute, who, from his groans and oaths, was evidently
+not dead, though he might be mortally wounded. His rescuers were
+breathing out curses and threats of vengeance against Brandt, now known
+to be an officer of the law.
+
+"The job has become a little complicated now," muttered Brandt, after
+they had passed; "and I must throw them off the scent. There will be a
+dozen out after me soon."
+
+He remounted his horse, stole silently down the road, crossed the
+stream, and then galloped to the tavern, and calling out the keeper,
+asked if there was any shorter road out of the mountains than the one
+leading to the west. Being answered in the negative, he rode hastily
+away. On reaching the place where he had struck this road the previous
+day, he entered the woods, followed the rugged trail that he had marked
+by bits of paper, and slowly approached the mine road again near the
+point where the stream crossed it. He then reconnoitred and learned
+that there was evidently a large party exploring the woods between the
+stream and the mine.
+
+At last they all gathered at the ford for consultation, and Brandt
+heard one say:
+
+"We're wastin' time beatin' round here. He'd naterly put fer the
+lowlands as soon as he found he was balked in takin' his man. I move we
+call on Whiskey Bob, and see if a man's rode that way ter-night."
+
+A call on Whiskey Bob was apparently always acceptable; and the party
+soon disappeared down the road--some on horses and more on foot. Brandt
+then quietly crossed the road and gained his retreat on the
+mountain-side.
+
+"I must camp here now till the fellow dies, and I can prove it, or
+until I can get another chance," was his conclusion as he rubbed down
+and fed his horse.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+TAKEN ALIVE
+
+
+After taking some refreshment himself, Brandt decided to go to the
+thicket opposite the superintendent's house for a little observation.
+He soon reached this outlook, and saw that something unusual was
+occurring in the cottage. At last the door opened, and Bute was
+assisted to his shanty by two men. They had scarcely disappeared before
+Brandt darted across the road and knocked for admittance.
+
+"Great Scott! you here?" exclaimed Mr. Alford.
+
+"Yes, and here I'm going to stay till I take my man," replied the
+detective, with a laugh. "Don't be alarmed. I shall not remain in your
+house, but in the neighborhood."
+
+"You are trifling with your life, and, I may add, with mine."
+
+"Not at all. Come up to your bedroom. First draw the curtains close,
+and we'll compare notes. I won't stay but a few moments."
+
+Mr. Alford felt that it was best to comply, for some one might come and
+find them talking in the hall. When Brandt entered the apartment, he
+threw himself into a chair and laughed in his low careless style as he
+said, "Well, I almost bagged my game to-night, and would have done so
+had not three of your men, returning from the tavern, interfered."
+
+"There's a party out looking for you now."
+
+"I know it; but I've put them on the wrong trail. What I want to learn
+is, will Bute live?"
+
+"Yes; your shot made a long flesh-wound just above his shoulders. A
+little closer, and it would have cut his vertebrae and finished him. He
+has lost a good deal of blood, and could not be moved for some days
+except at some risk."
+
+"You are sure of that?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, he may have to incur the risk. I only wish to be certain that he
+will not take it on his own act at once. You'll soon miss him in any
+event."
+
+"The sooner the better. I wish your aim had been surer."
+
+"That wasn't my good luck. Next time I'll have to shoot closer or else
+take him alive."
+
+"But you can't stay in this region. They will all be on the alert now."
+
+"Oh, no. The impression will be general to-morrow that I've made for
+the lowlands as fast as my horse could carry me. Don't you worry. Till
+I move again, I'm safe enough. All I ask of you now is to keep Bute in
+his own shanty, and not to let him have more than one man to take care
+of him if possible. Good-night. You may not see me again, and then
+again you may."
+
+"Well, now that you are here," said the superintendent, who was
+naturally brave enough, "spend an hour or two, or else stay till just
+before daylight. I confess I am becoming intensely interested in your
+adventure, and would take a hand in it if I could; but you know well
+enough that if I did, and it became known, I would have to find
+business elsewhere very suddenly--that is, if given the chance."
+
+"I only wish your passive co-operation. I should be glad, however, if
+you would let me take a horse, if I must."
+
+"Certainly, as long as you leave my black mare."
+
+Brandt related what had occurred, giving a comical aspect to
+everything, and then, after reconnoitring the road from a darkened
+window, regained his cover in safety. He declined to speak of his
+future plans or to give any clew to his hiding-place, to which he now
+returned.
+
+During the few remaining hours of darkness and most of the next day, he
+slept and lounged about his fire. The next night was too bright and
+clear for anything beyond a reconnoissance, and he saw evidences of an
+alertness which made him very cautious. He did not seek another
+interview with Mr. Alford, for now nothing was to be gained by it.
+
+The next day proved cloudy, and with night began a violent storm of
+wind and rain. Brandt cowered over his fire till nine o'clock, and then
+taking a slight draught from his flask, chuckled, "This is glorious
+weather for my work. Here's to Clara's luck this time!"
+
+In little over an hour he started for the mine, near which he concealed
+his horse. Stealing about in the deep shadows, he soon satisfied
+himself that no one was on the watch, and then approaching the rear of
+Bute's shanty, found to his joy that the pony was in the shed. A chink
+in the board siding enabled him to look into the room which contained
+his prey; he started as he saw Apache Jack, instantly recognizing in
+him another criminal for whom a large reward was offered.
+
+"Better luck than I dreamed of," he thought. "I shall take them both;
+but I now shall have to borrow a horse of Alford;" and he glided away,
+secured an animal from the stable, and tied it near his own. In a short
+time he was back at his post of observation. It had now become evident
+that no one even imagined that there was danger while such a storm was
+raging. The howling wind would drown all ordinary noises; and Brandt
+determined that the two men in the shanty should be on their way to
+jail that night. When he again put his eye to the chink in the wall,
+Bute was saying:
+
+"Well, no one will start fer the mountings while this storm lasts, but,
+wound or no wound, I must get out of this as soon as it's over. There's
+no safety fer me here now."
+
+"Ef they comes fer you, like enough they'll take me," replied Apache
+Jack, who, now that he was alone with his confederate, could speak his
+style of English fast enough. His character of half-breed was a
+disguise which his dark complexion had suggested. "Ter-morrer night, ef
+it's clar, we'll put out fer the easterd. I know of a shanty in the
+woods not so very fur from here in which we kin put up till yer's able
+ter travel furder. Come, now, take a swig of whiskey with me and then
+we'll sleep; there's no need of our watchin' any longer on a night like
+this. I'll jest step out an' see ef the pony's safe; sich a storm's
+'nuff ter scare him off ter the woods."
+
+"Well, jest lay my shooter on the cha'r here aside me 'fore you go. I
+feel safer with the little bull-dog in reach."
+
+This the man did, then putting his own revolver on the table, that it
+might not get wet, began to unbar the door. Swift as a shadow Brandt
+glided out of the shed and around on the opposite side of the shanty.
+
+An instant later Bute was paralyzed by seeing his enemy enter the open
+door. Before the outlaw could realize that Brandt was not a feverish
+vision induced by his wound, the detective had captured both revolvers,
+and was standing behind the door awaiting Apache Jack's return.
+
+"Hist!" whispered Brandt, "not a sound, or you will both be dead in two
+minutes."
+
+Bute's nerves were so shattered that he could scarcely have spoken,
+even if he had been reckless enough to do so. He felt himself doomed;
+and when brutal natures like his succumb, they usually break utterly.
+Therefore, he could do no more than shiver with unspeakable dread as if
+he had an ague.
+
+Soon Apache Jack came rushing in out of the storm, to be instantly
+confronted by Brandt's revolver. The fellow glanced at the table, and
+seeing his own weapon was gone, instinctively half drew a long knife.
+
+"Put that knife on the table!" ordered Brandt, sternly. "Do you think
+I'd allow any such foolishness?"
+
+The man now realized his powerlessness, and obeyed; and Brandt secured
+this weapon also.
+
+"See here, Apache Jack, or whatever your name is, don't you run your
+head into a noose. You know I'm empowered to arrest Bute, and you don't
+know anything about the force I have at hand. All you've got to do is
+to obey me, an officer of the law, like a good citizen. If you don't,
+I'll shoot you; and that's all there is about it. Will you obey orders?"
+
+"I no understan'."
+
+"Stop lying! You understand English as well as I do, and I'll suspect
+YOU if you try that on again. Come, now! I've no time to lose. It's
+death or obedience!"
+
+"You can't blame a feller fer standin' by his mate," was the sullen yet
+deprecatory reply.
+
+"I can blame any man, and arrest or shoot him too, who obstructs the
+law. You must obey me for the next half-hour, to prove that you are not
+Bute's accomplice."
+
+"He's only my mate, and our rule is ter stand by each other; but, as
+you say, I can't help myself, and there's no use of my goin' ter jail."
+
+"I should think not," added Brandt, appealing to the fellow's selfish
+hope of escaping further trouble if Bute was taken. "Now get my
+prisoner out of bed and dress him as soon as possible."
+
+"But he ain't able ter be moved. The superintendent said he wasn't."
+
+"That's my business, not yours. Do as I bid you."
+
+"Why don't yer yell fer help?" said Bute, in a hoarse whisper.
+
+"Because he knows I'd shoot him if he did," remarked Brandt, coolly.
+
+"Come, old man," said Jack, "luck's agin yer. Ef there's any hollerin'
+ter be done, yer's as able ter do that as I be."
+
+"Quick, quick! jerk him out of bed and get him into his clothes. I
+won't permit one false move."
+
+Jack now believed that his only means of safety was to be as
+expeditious as possible, and that if Bute was taken safely he would be
+left unmolested. People of their class rarely keep faith with one
+another when it is wholly against their interests to do so. Therefore,
+in spite of the wounded man's groans, he was quickly dressed and his
+hands tied behind him. As he opened his mouth to give expression to his
+protests, he found himself suddenly gagged by Brandt, who stood behind
+him. Then a strap was buckled about his feet, and he lay on the floor
+helpless and incapable of making a sound.
+
+"Now, Jack," said Brandt, "go before me and bridle and saddle the pony;
+then bring him to the door."
+
+Jack obeyed.
+
+"Now put Bute upon him. I'll hold his head; but remember I'm covering
+you with a dead bead all the time."
+
+"No need of that. I'm civil enough now."
+
+"Well, you know we're sort of strangers, and it's no more than prudent
+for me to be on the safe side till we part company. That's right, strap
+his feet underneath. Now lead the pony in such directions as I say.
+Don't try to make off till I'm through with you, or you'll be shot
+instantly. I shall keep within a yard of you all the time."
+
+They were not long in reaching the horse that Brandt had borrowed, and
+Jack said, "I s'pose I kin go now."
+
+"First untie Bute's hands so he can guide the pony."
+
+As the fellow attempted to do this, and his two hands were close
+together, Brandt slipped a pair of light steel handcuffs over his
+wrists, and the man was in his power. Almost before the new prisoner
+could recover from his surprise, he was lifted on the borrowed horse,
+and his legs also tied underneath.
+
+"This ain't fa'r. You promised ter let me go when you got Bute off."
+
+"I haven't got him off yet. Of course I can't let you go right back and
+bring a dozen men after us. You must be reasonable."
+
+The fellow yelled for help; but the wind swept the sound away.
+
+"If you do that again, I'll gag you too," said Brandt. "I tell you both
+once more, and I won't repeat the caution, that your lives depend on
+obedience." Then he mounted, and added, "Bute, I'm going to untie your
+hands, and you must ride on ahead of me. I'll lead Jack's horse."
+
+In a moment he had his prisoners in the road, and was leaving the mine
+at a sharp pace. Bute was so cowed and dazed with terror that he obeyed
+mechanically. The stream was no longer a shallow brook, but a raging
+torrent which almost swept them away as Brandt urged them relentlessly
+through it. The tavern was dark and silent as they passed quickly by
+it. Then Brandt took the gag from Bute's mouth, and he groaned, cursed,
+and pleaded by turns. Hour after hour he urged them forward, until at
+last Bute gave out and fell forward on the pony's neck. Brandt
+dismounted and gave the exhausted man a draught from his flask.
+
+"Oh, shoot me and have done with it!" groaned Bute; "I'd rather be shot
+than hanged anyhow."
+
+"Couldn't think of it," replied the detective, cheerily. "My rule is to
+take prisoners alive, so that they can have a fair trial and be sure
+that they get justice. I'd take you the rest of the way in a bed if I
+could, but if you can't sit up, I'll have to tie you on. We'll reach a
+friend of mine by daylight, and then you can ride in a wagon, so brace
+up."
+
+This the outlaw did for a time, and then he gave out utterly and was
+tied more securely to the pony. Out of compassion, Brandt thereafter
+travelled more slowly; and when the sun was an hour high, he led his
+forlorn captives to the house of a man whom he knew could be depended
+upon for assistance. After a rest sufficient to give Bute time to
+recover somewhat, the remainder of the journey was made without any
+incident worth mentioning, and the prisoners were securely lodged in
+jail on the evening of the 24th of December.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+WHAT BRANDT SAW CHRISTMAS EVE
+
+
+Brandt's words and effort had had their natural effect on the mind of
+Clara Heyward. They proved an increasing diversion of her thoughts, and
+slowly dispelled the morbid, leaden grief under which she had been
+sinking. Her new anxiety in regard to her lover's fortune and possible
+fate was a healthful counter-irritant. Half consciously she yielded to
+the influence of his strong, hopeful spirit, and almost before she was
+aware of it, she too began to hope. Chief of all, his manly tenderness
+and unbargaining love stole into her heart like a subtle balm; and
+responsive love, the most potent of remedies, was renewing her life.
+She found herself counting the days and then the hours that must
+intervene before the 25th. On Christmas eve her woman's nature
+triumphed, and she instinctively added such little graces to her toilet
+as her sombre costume permitted. She also arranged her beautiful hair
+in the style which she knew he admired. He might come; and she
+determined that his first glance should reveal that he was not serving
+one who was coldly apathetic to his brave endeavor and loyalty.
+
+Indeed, even she herself wondered at the changes that had taken place
+during the brief time which had elapsed since their parting. There was
+a new light in her eyes, and a delicate bloom tinged her cheeks.
+
+"Oh," she murmured, "it's all so different now that I feel that I can
+live for him and make him happy."
+
+She was sure that she could welcome him in a way that would assure him
+of the fulfilment of all his hopes; but when he did come with his
+eager, questioning eyes, she suddenly found herself under a strange
+restraint, tongue-tied and embarrassed. She longed to put her arms
+about his neck and tell him all--the new life, the new hope which his
+look of deep affection had kindled; and in effort for self-control, she
+seemed to him almost cold. He therefore became perplexed and uncertain
+of his ground, and took refuge in the details of his expedition,
+meanwhile mentally assuring himself that he must keep his word and put
+no constraint on the girl contrary to the dictates of her heart.
+
+As his mind grew clearer, his keen observation began to reveal hopeful
+indications. She was listening intently with approval, and something
+more in her expression, he dared to fancy. Suddenly he exclaimed, "How
+changed you are for the better, Clara! You are lovelier to-night than
+ever you were. What is it in your face that is so sweet and
+bewildering? You were a pretty girl before; now you are a beautiful
+woman."
+
+The color came swiftly at his words, and she faltered as she averted
+her eyes, "Please go on with your story, Ralph. You have scarcely begun
+yet. I fear you were in danger."
+
+He came and stood beside her. "Clara," he pleaded, "look at me."
+
+Hesitatingly she raised her eyes to his.
+
+"Shall I tell you what I hope I see?"
+
+The faintest suggestion of a smile hovered about her trembling lips.
+
+"I hope I see what you surely see in mine. Come, Clara, you shall
+choose before you hear my story. Am I to be your husband or friend? for
+I've vowed that you shall not be without a loyal protector."
+
+"Ralph, Ralph," she cried, springing up and hiding her face on his
+shoulder, "I have no choice at all. You know how I loved papa; but I've
+learned that there's another and different kind of love. I didn't half
+understand you when you first spoke; now I do. You will always see in
+my eyes what you've seen to-night."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+FOUND YET LOST
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+LOVE IN THE WILDERNESS
+
+
+Hopeless indeed must that region be which May cannot clothe with some
+degree of beauty and embroider with flowers. On the 5th day of the
+month the early dawn revealed much that would charm the eyes of all
+true lovers of nature even in that section of Virginia whose
+characteristics so grimly correspond with its name--The Wilderness. The
+low pines and cedars, which abound everywhere, had taken a fresh green;
+the deciduous trees, the tangled thickets, impenetrable in many places
+by horse or man, were putting forth a new, tender foliage, tinted with
+a delicate semblance of autumn hues. Flowers bloomed everywhere, humbly
+in the grass close to the soil as well as on the flaunting sprays of
+shrubbery and vines, filling the air with fragrance as the light
+touched and expanded the petals. Wood-thrushes and other birds sang as
+melodiously and contentedly as if they had selected some breezy upland
+forest for their nesting-place instead of a region which has become a
+synonym for gloom, horror, and death.
+
+Lonely and uninhabited in its normal condition, this forbidding
+wilderness had become peopled with thousands of men. The Army of the
+Potomac was penetrating and seeking to pass through it. Vigilant
+General Lee had observed the movement, and with characteristic boldness
+and skill ordered his troops from their strong intrenchments on Mine
+Run toward the Union flank. On this memorable morning the van of his
+columns wakened from their brief repose but a short distance from the
+Federal bivouac. Both parties were unconscious of their nearness, for
+with the exception of a few clearings the dense growth restricted
+vision to a narrow range. The Union forces were directed in their
+movements by the compass, as if they were sailors on a fog-enshrouded
+sea; but they well knew that they were seeking their old antagonist,
+the Army of Northern Virginia, and that the stubborn tug-of-war might
+begin at any moment.
+
+When Captain Nichol shook off the lethargy of a brief troubled sleep,
+he found that the light did not banish his gloomy impressions. Those
+immediately around him were still slumbering, wrapped in their
+blankets. Few sounds other than the voices of the awakening birds broke
+the silence. After a little thought he drew his notebook from his
+pocket and wrote as follows:
+
+"MY DARLING HELEN--I obey an impulse to write to you this morning. It
+is scarcely light enough to see as yet; but very soon we shall be on
+the move again to meet--we known not what, certainly heavy, desperate
+fighting. I do not know why I am so sad. I have faced the prospect of
+battles many times before, and have passed through them unharmed, but
+now I am depressed by an unusual foreboding. Naturally my thoughts turn
+to you. There was no formal engagement between us when I said those
+words (so hard to speak) of farewell, nor have I sought to bind you
+since. Every month has made more clear the uncertainty of life in my
+calling; and I felt that I had no right to lay upon you any restraint
+other than that of your own feelings. If the worst happened you would
+be free as far as I was concerned, and few would know that we had told
+each other of our love. I wish to tell you of mine once more--not for
+the last time, I hope, but I don't know. I do love you with my whole
+heart and soul; and if I am to die in this horrible wilderness, where
+so many of my comrades died a year ago, my last thoughts will be of you
+and of the love of God, which your love has made more real to me. I
+love you too well to wish my death, should it occur, to spoil your
+young life. I do not ask you to forget me--that would be worse than
+death, but I ask you to try to be happy and to make others happy as the
+years pass on. This bloody war will come to an end, will become a
+memory, and those who perish hope to be remembered; but I do not wish
+my memory to hang like a cloud over the happy days of peace. I close,
+my darling, in hope, not fear--hope for you, hope for me, whatever may
+happen to-day or on coming days of strife. It only remains for me to do
+my duty. I trust that you will also do yours, which may be even harder.
+Do not give way to despairing grief if I cannot come back to you in
+this world. Let your faith in God and hope of a future life inspire and
+strengthen you in your battles, which may require more courage and
+unselfishness than mine.
+
+"Yours, either in life or death, ALBERT NICHOL."
+
+He made another copy of this letter, put both in envelopes, and
+addressed them, then sought two men of his company who came from his
+native village. They were awake now and boiling their coffee. The
+officer and the privates had grown up as boys together with little
+difference of social standing in the democratic town. When off duty,
+there still existed much of the old familiarity and friendly converse,
+but when Captain Nichol gave an order, his townsmen immediately became
+conscious that they were separated from him by the iron wall of
+military discipline. This characteristic did not alienate his old
+associates. One of the men hit the truth fairly in saying: "When Cap
+speaks as Cap, he's as hard and sharp as a bayonet-point; but when a
+feller is sick and worn out 'tween times you'd think your granny was
+coddlin' yer."
+
+It was as friend and old neighbor that Nichol approached Sam and Jim
+Wetherby, two stalwart brothers who had enlisted in his company.
+"Boys," he said, "I have a favor to ask of you. The Lord only knows how
+the day will end for any of us. We will take our chances and do our
+duty, as usual. I hope we may all boil coffee again to-night; but who
+knows? Here are two letters. If I should fall, and either or both of
+you come out all right, as I trust you will, please forward them. If I
+am with you again to-night, return them to me."
+
+"Come, Captain," said Jim, heartily, "the bullet isn't molded that can
+harm you. You'll lead us into Richmond yet."
+
+"It will not be from lack of goodwill if I don't. I like your spirit;
+and I believe the army will get there this time whether I'm with it or
+not. Do as I ask. There is no harm in providing against what may
+happen. Make your breakfast quickly, for orders may come at any
+moment;" and he strode away to look after the general readiness of his
+men.
+
+The two brothers compared the address on the letters and laughed a
+little grimly. "Cap is a-providing, sure enough," Sam Wetherby
+remarked. "They are both written to the pretty Helen Kemble that he
+used to make eyes at in the singing-school. I guess he thinks that you
+might stop a bullet as well as himself, Jim."
+
+"It's clear he thinks your chances for taking in lead are just as
+good," replied Jim. "But come, I'm one of them fellows that's never hit
+till I am hit. One thing at a time, and now it's breakfast."
+
+"Well, hanged if I want to charge under the lead of any other captain!"
+remarked Sam, meditatively sipping his coffee. "If that girl up yonder
+knows Cap's worth, she'll cry her eyes out if anything happens to him."
+
+A few moments later the birds fled to the closest cover, startled by
+the innumerable bugles sounding the note of preparation. Soon the
+different corps, divisions, and brigades were upon their prescribed
+lines of march. No movement could be made without revealing the close
+proximity of the enemy. Rifle-reports from skirmish lines and
+reconnoitring parties speedily followed. A Confederate force was
+developed on the turnpike leading southwest from the old Wilderness
+Tavern; and the fighting began. At about eight o'clock Grant and Meade
+came up and made their headquarters beneath some pine-trees near the
+tavern. General Grant could scarcely believe at first that Lee had left
+his strong intrenchments to give battle in a region little better than
+a jungle; but he soon had ample and awful proof of the fact.
+Practically unseen by each other, the two armies grappled like giants
+in the dark. So thick were the trees and undergrowth that a soldier on
+a battle line could rarely see a thousand men on either side of him,
+yet nearly two hundred thousand men matched their deadly strength that
+day. Hundreds fell, died, and were hidden forever from human eyes.
+
+Thinking to sweep away the rear-guard of Lee's retreating army, Grant
+ordered a strong advance on the pike in the afternoon. At first it was
+eminently successful, and if it had been followed up vigorously and
+steadily, as it undoubtedly would have been if the commander had known
+what was afterward revealed, it might have resulted in severe disaster
+to the Confederates. The enemy was pressed back rapidly; and the
+advancing Union forces were filled with enthusiasm. Before this early
+success culminated, genuine sorrow saddened every one in Captain
+Nichol's company. With his face toward the enemy, impetuously leading
+his men, he suddenly dropped his sword and fell senseless. Sam and Jim
+Wetherby heard a shell shrieking toward them, and saw it explode
+directly over their beloved leader. They rushed to his side; blood was
+pouring over his face, and it also seemed to them that a fragment of
+the shell had fatally wounded him in the forehead.
+
+"Poor Cap, poor, brave Cap!" ejaculated Sam. "He didn't give us those
+letters for nothing."
+
+"A bad job, an awfully bad job for us all! curse the eyes that aimed
+that shell!" growled practical Jim. "Here, take hold. We'll put him in
+that little dry ditch we just passed, and bury him after the fight, if
+still on our pins. We can't leave him here to be tramped on."
+
+This they did, then hastily rejoined their company, which had swept on
+with the battle line. Alas! that battle line and others also were
+driven back with terrible slaughter before the day closed. Captain
+Nichol was left in the ditch where he had been placed, and poor Sam
+Wetherby lay on his back, staring with eyes that saw not at a shattered
+bird's nest in the bushes above his head. The letter in his pocket
+mouldered with him.
+
+Jim's begrimed and impassive face disguised an aching heart as he
+boiled his coffee alone that night. Then, although wearied almost to
+exhaustion, he gave himself no rest until he had found what promised to
+be the safest means of forwarding the letter in his pocket.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+LOVE AT HOME
+
+
+Long years before the war, happy children were growing in the village
+of Alton. They studied the history of wars much as they conned their
+lessons in geography. Scenes of strife belonged to the past, or were
+enacted among people wholly unlike any who dwelt in their peaceful
+community. That Americans should ever fight each other was as undreamed
+of as that the minister should have a pitched battle in the street with
+his Sunday-school superintendent. They rejoiced mildly when in their
+progress through the United States history they came to pages
+descriptive of Indian wars and the Revolutionary struggle, since they
+found their lessons then more easily remembered than the wordy disputes
+and little understood decisions of statesmen. The first skating on the
+pond was an event which far transcended in importance anything related
+between the green covers of the old history book, while to Albert
+Nichol the privilege of strapping skates on the feet of little Helen
+Kemble, and gliding away with her over the smooth ice, was a triumph
+unknown by any general. He was the son of a plain farmer, and she the
+daughter of the village banker. Thus, even in childhood, there was
+thrown around her the glamour of position and reputed
+wealth--advantages which have their value among the most democratic
+folk, although slight outward deference may be paid to their
+possessors. It was the charming little face itself, with its piquant
+smiles and still more piquant pouts, which won Albert's boyish
+admiration. The fact that she was the banker's daughter only fired his
+ambition to be and to do something to make her proud of him.
+
+Hobart Martine, another boy of the village, shared all his schoolmate's
+admiration for pretty Nellie, as she was usually called. He had been
+lame from birth, and could not skate. He could only shiver on the bank
+or stamp around to keep himself warm, while the athletic Al and the
+graceful little girl passed and repassed, quite forgetting him. There
+was one thing he could do; and this pleasure he waited for till often
+numb with cold. He could draw the child on his sled to her home, which
+adjoined his own.
+
+When it came his turn to do this, and he limped patiently through the
+snow, tugging at the rope, his heart grew warm as well as his chilled
+body. She was a rather imperious little belle with the other boys, but
+was usually gentle with him because he was lame and quiet. When she
+thanked him kindly and pleasantly at her gate, he was so happy that he
+could scarcely eat his supper. Then his mother would laugh and say,
+"You've been with your little sweetheart." He would flush and make no
+reply.
+
+How little did those children dream of war, even when studying their
+history lessons! Yet Albert Nichol now lay in the Wilderness jungle. He
+had done much to make his little playmate proud of him. The sturdy boy
+developed into a manly man. When he responded to his country's call and
+raised a company among his old friends and neighbors, Helen Kemble
+exulted over him tearfully. She gave him the highest tribute within her
+power and dearest possession--her heart. She made every campaign with
+him, following him with love's untiring solicitude through the scenes
+he described, until at last the morning paper turned the morning
+sunshine into mockery and the songs of the birds into dirges. Captain
+Nichol's name was on the list of the killed.
+
+With something of the same jealousy, developed and intensified, which
+he had experienced while watching Albert glide away on the ice with the
+child adored in a dumb, boyish way, Hobart had seen his old schoolmate
+depart for the front. Then his rival took the girl from him; now he
+took her heart. Martine's lameness kept him from being a soldier. He
+again virtually stood chilled on the bank, with a cold, dreary,
+hopeless feeling which he believed would benumb his life. He did not
+know, he was not sure that he had lost Helen beyond hope, until those
+lurid days when men on both sides were arming and drilling for mutual
+slaughter. She was always so kind to him, and her tones so gentle when
+she spoke, that in love's fond blindness he had dared to hope. He
+eventually learned that she was only sorry for him. He did not, could
+not, blame her, for he needed but to glance at Nichol's stalwart form,
+and recall the young soldier's record, in order to know that it would
+be strange indeed if the girl had chosen otherwise. He would have been
+more than human if there had not been some bitterness in his heart; but
+he fought it down honestly, and while pursuing his peaceful avocations
+engaged in what he believed would be a lifelong battle. He smiled at
+the girl across the garden fence and called out his cheery
+"Good-morning." He was her frequent companion by the fireside or on the
+piazza, according to the season; and he alone of the young men was
+welcome, for she had little sympathy for those who remained at home
+without his excuse. He was so bravely her friend, keeping his great
+love so sternly repressed that she only felt it like a genial warmth in
+his tones and manner, and believed that he was becoming in truth what
+he seemed, merely a friend.
+
+On that terrible May morning he was out in the garden and heard her
+wild, despairing cry as she read the fatal words. He knew that a heavy
+battle had been begun, and was going down to the gate for his paper,
+which the newsboy had just left. There was no need of opening it, for
+the bitter cry he had heard made known to him the one item of
+intelligence compared with which all else for the time became
+insignificant. Was it the Devil that inspired a great throb of hope in
+his heart? At any rate he thought it was, and ground his heel into the
+gravel as if the serpent's head was beneath it, then limped to Mr.
+Kemble's door.
+
+The old banker came out to meet him, shaking his gray head and holding
+the paper in his trembling hand. "Ah!" he groaned, "I've feared it,
+I've feared it all along, but hoped that it would not be. You've seen
+Nichol's name--" but he could not finish the sentence.
+
+"No, I have seen nothing; I only heard Helen's cry. That told the whole
+story."
+
+"Yes. Well, her mother's with her. Poor girl! poor girl! God grant it
+isn't her death-blow too. She has suffered too much under this long
+strain of anxiety."
+
+A generous resolve was forming in Martine's mind, and he said
+earnestly, "We must tide her through this terrible shock. There may be
+some mistake; he may be only wounded. Do not let her give up hope
+absolutely. I'll drop everything and go to the battlefield at once. If
+the worst has in truth happened, I can bring home his remains, and that
+would be a comfort to her. A newspaper report, made up hastily in the
+field, is not final. Let this hope break the cruel force of the blow,
+for it is hard to live without hope."
+
+"Well, Hobart, you ARE a true friend. God bless and reward you! If
+nothing comes of it for poor Nichol, as I fear nothing will, your
+journey and effort will give a faint hope to Nellie, and, as you say,
+break the force of the blow. I'll go and tell her."
+
+Martine went into the parlor, which Helen had decorated with mementoes
+of her soldier lover. He was alone but a few moments before he heard
+hasty steps. Helen entered with hot, tearless eyes and an agonized,
+imploring expression.
+
+"What!" she cried, "is it true that you'll go?"
+
+"Yes, Helen, immediately. I do not think there's reason for despair."
+
+"Oh, God bless you! friend, friend! I never knew what the word meant
+before. Oh, Hobart, no sister ever lavished love on a brother as I will
+love you if you bring back my Albert;" and in the impulse of her
+overwhelming gratitude she buried her face on his shoulder and sobbed
+aloud. Hope already brought the relief of tears.
+
+He stroked the bowed head gently, saying, "God is my witness, Helen,
+that I will spare no pains and shrink from no danger in trying to find
+Captain Nichol. I have known of many instances where the first reports
+of battles proved incorrect;" and he led her to a chair.
+
+"It is asking so much of you," she faltered.
+
+"You have asked nothing, Helen. I have offered to go, and I AM going.
+It is a little thing for me to do. You know that my lameness only kept
+me from joining Captain Nichol's company. Now try to control your
+natural feelings like a brave girl, while I explain my plans as far as
+I have formed them."
+
+"Yes, yes! Wait a few moments. Oh, this pain at my heart! I think it
+would have broken if you hadn't come. I couldn't breathe; I just felt
+as if sinking under a weight."
+
+"Take courage, Helen. Remember Albert is a soldier."
+
+"IS, IS! Oh, thanks for that little word! You do not believe that he is
+gone and lost to me?"
+
+"I cannot believe it yet. We will not believe it. Now listen patiently,
+for you will have your part to do."
+
+"Yes, yes; if I could only do something! That would help me so much.
+Oh, if I could only go with you!"
+
+"That would not be best or wise, and might defeat my efforts. I must be
+free to go where you could not--to visit places unsafe for you. My
+first step must be to get letters to our State Senator. Your father can
+write one, and I'll get one or two others. The Senator will give me a
+letter to the Governor, who in turn will accredit me to the authorities
+at Washington and the officer in command on the battlefield. You know I
+shall need passes. Those who go to the extreme front must be able to
+account for themselves. I will keep in telegraphic communication with
+you, and you may receive additional tidings which will aid me in my
+search. Mr. Kemble!" he concluded, calling her father from his
+perturbed pacing up and down the hall.
+
+"Ah!" said the banker, entering, "this is a hundred-fold better than
+despairing, useless grief. I've heard the gist of what Hobart has said,
+and approve it. Now I'll call mother, so that we may all take courage
+and get a good grip on hope."
+
+They consulted together briefly, and in the prospect of action, Helen
+was carried through the first dangerous crisis in her experience.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+"DISABLED"
+
+
+Mrs. Martine grieved over her son's unexpected resolve. In her
+estimation he was engaging in a very dangerous and doubtful expedition.
+Probably mothers will never outgrow a certain jealousy when they find
+that another woman has become first in the hearts of their sons. The
+sense of robbery was especially strong in this case, for Mrs. Martine
+was a widow, and Hobart an only and idolized child.
+
+The mother speedily saw that it would be useless to remonstrate, and
+tearfully aided him in his preparations. Before he departed, he won her
+over as an ally. "These times, mother, are bringing heavy burdens to
+very many, and we should help each other bear them. You know what Helen
+is to me, and must be always. That is something which cannot be
+changed. My love has grown with my growth and become inseparable from
+my life. I have my times of weakness, but think I can truly say that I
+love her so well that I would rather make her happy at any cost to
+myself. If it is within my power, I shall certainly bring Nichol back,
+alive or dead. Prove your love to me, mother, by cheering, comforting,
+and sustaining that poor girl. I haven't as much hope of success as I
+tried to give her, but she needs hope now; she must have it, or there
+is no assurance against disastrous effects on her health and mind. I
+couldn't bear that."
+
+"Well, Hobart, if he is dead, she certainly ought to reward you some
+day."
+
+"We must not think of that. The future is not in our hands. We can only
+do what is duty now."
+
+Noble, generous purposes give their impress to that index of character,
+the human face. When Martine came to say good-by to Helen, she saw the
+quiet, patient cripple in a new light. He no longer secured her strong
+affection chiefly on the basis of gentle, womanly commiseration. He was
+proving the possession of those qualities which appeal strongly to the
+feminine nature; he was showing himself capable of prompt, courageous
+action, and his plain face, revealing the spirit which animated him,
+became that of a hero in her eyes. She divined the truth--the love so
+strong and unselfish that it would sacrifice itself utterly for her. He
+was seeking to bring back her lover when success in his mission would
+blot out all hope for him. The effect of his action was most salutary,
+rousing her from the inertia of grief and despair. "If a mere friend,"
+she murmured, "can be so brave and self-forgetful, I have no excuse for
+giving away utterly."
+
+She revealed in some degree her new impressions in parting. "Hobart,"
+she said, holding his hand in both of hers, "you have done much to help
+me. You have not only brought hope, but you have also shown a spirit
+which would shame me out of a selfish grief. I cannot now forget the
+claims of others, of my dear father and mother here, and I promise you
+that I will try to be brave like you, like Albert. I shall not become a
+weak, helpless burden, I shall not sit still and wring idle hands when
+others are heroically doing and suffering. Good-by, my friend, my
+brother. God help us all!"
+
+He felt that she understood him now as never before; and the knowledge
+inspired a more resolute purpose, if this were possible. That afternoon
+he was on his way. There came two or three days of terrible suspense
+for Helen, relieved only by telegrams from Martine as he passed from
+point to point. The poor girl struggled as a swimmer breasts pitiless
+waves intervening between him and the shore. She scarcely allowed
+herself an idle moment; but her effort was feverish and in a measure
+the result of excitement. The papers were searched for any scrap of
+intelligence, and the daily mail waited for until the hours and minutes
+were counted before its arrival.
+
+One morning her father placed Nichol's letter in her hands. They so
+trembled in the immense hope, the overwhelming emotion which swept over
+her at sight of the familiar handwriting, that at first she could not
+open it. When at last she read the prophetic message, she almost
+blotted out the writing with her tears, moaning, "He's dead, he's
+dead!" In her morbid, overwrought condition, the foreboding that had
+been in the mind of the writer was conveyed to hers; and she
+practically gave up hope for anything better than the discovery and
+return of his remains. Her father, mother, and intimate friends tried
+in vain to rally her; but the conviction remained that she had read her
+lover's farewell words. In spite of the most pathetic and strenuous
+effort, she could not keep up any longer, and sobbed till she slept in
+utter exhaustion.
+
+On the following day, old Mr. Wetherby came into the bank. The lines
+about his mouth were rigid with suppressed feeling. He handed Mr.
+Kemble a letter, saying in a husky voice, "Jim sent this. He says at
+the end I was to show it to you." The scrawl gave in brief the details
+about Captain Nichol already known to the reader, and stated also that
+Sam Wetherby was missing. "All I know is," wrote the soldier, "that we
+were driven back, and bullets flew like hail. The brush was so thick I
+couldn't see five yards either way when I lost sight of Sam."
+
+The colonel of the regiment also wrote to Captain Nichol's father,
+confirming Private Wetherby's letter. The village had been thrown into
+a ferment by the tidings of the battle and its disastrous consequences.
+There was bitter lamentation in many homes. Perhaps the names of
+Captain Nichol and Helen were oftenest repeated in the little
+community, for the fact of their mutual hopes was no longer a secret.
+Even thus early some sagacious people nodded their heads and remarked,
+"Hobart Martine may have his chance yet." Helen Kemble believed without
+the shadow of a doubt that all the heart she had for love had perished
+in the wilderness.
+
+The facts contained in Jim Wetherby's letter were telegraphed to
+Martine, and he was not long in discovering confirmation of them in the
+temporary hospitals near the battlefield. He found a man of Captain
+Nichol's company to whom Jim had related the circumstances. For days
+the loyal friend searched laboriously the horrible region of strife,
+often sickened nearly unto death by the scenes he witnessed, for his
+nature had not been rendered callous by familiarity with the results of
+war. Then instead of returning home, he employed the influence given by
+his letters and passes, backed by his own earnest pleading, to obtain
+permission for a visit to Nichol's regiment. He found it under fire;
+and long afterward Jim Wetherby was fond of relating how quietly the
+lame civilian listened to the shells shrieking over and exploding
+around him. Thus Martine learned all that could be gathered of Nichol's
+fate, and then, ill and exhausted, he turned his face northward. He
+felt that it would be a hopeless task to renew his search on the
+battlefield, much of which had been burned over. He also had the
+conviction it would be fatal to him to look upon its unspeakable
+horrors, and breathe again its pestilential air.
+
+He was a sick man when he arrived at home, but was able to relate
+modestly in outline the history of his efforts, softening and
+concealing much that he had witnessed. In the delirium of fever which
+followed, they learned more fully of what he had endured, of how he had
+forced himself to look upon things which, reproduced in his ravings,
+almost froze the blood of his watchers.
+
+Helen Kemble felt that her cup of bitterness had been filled anew, yet
+the distraction of a new grief, in which there was a certain remorseful
+self-reproach, had the effect of blunting the sharp edge of her first
+sorrow. In this new cause for dread she was compelled in some degree to
+forget herself. She saw the intense solicitude of her father and
+mother, who had been so readily accessory to Martine's expedition; she
+also saw that his mother's heart was almost breaking under the strain
+of anxiety. His incoherent words were not needed to reveal that his
+effort had been prompted by his love. She was one of his watchers,
+patiently enduring the expressions of regret which the mother in her
+sharp agony could not repress. Nichol's last letter was now known by
+heart, its every word felt to be prophetic. She had indeed been called
+upon to exercise courage and fortitude greater than he could manifest
+even in the Wilderness battle. Although she often faltered, she did not
+fail in carrying out his instructions. When at last Martine, a pallid
+convalescent, could sit in the shade on the piazza, she looked older by
+years, having, besides, the expression seen in the eyes of some women
+who have suffered much, and can still suffer much more. In the matter
+relating to their deepest consciousness, no words had passed between
+them. She felt as if she were a widow, and hoped he would understand.
+His full recognition of her position, and acceptance of the fact that
+she did and must mourn for her lover, his complete self-abnegation,
+brought her a sense of peace.
+
+The old clock on the landing of the stairway measured off the hours and
+days with monotonous regularity. Some of the hours and days had been
+immeasurably longer than the ancient timekeeper had indicated; but in
+accordance with usual human experiences, they began to grow shorter.
+Poignant sorrow cannot maintain its severity, or people could not live.
+Vines, grasses, and flowers covered the graves in Virginia; the little
+cares, duties, and amenities of life began to screen at times the
+sorrows that were nevertheless ever present.
+
+"Hobart," Helen said one day in the latter part of June, "do you think
+you will be strong enough to attend the commemorative services next
+week? You know they have been waiting for you."
+
+"Yes," he replied quietly; "'and they should not have delayed them so
+long. It is very sad that so many others have been added since--since--"
+
+"Well, you have not been told, for we have tried to keep every
+depressing and disquieting influence from you. Dr. Barnes said it was
+very necessary, because you had seen so much that you should try to
+forget. Ah, my friend, I can never forget what you suffered for me!
+Captain Nichol's funeral sermon was preached while you were so ill. I
+was not present--I could not be. I've been to see his mother often, and
+she understands me. I could not have controlled my grief, and I have a
+horror of displaying my most sacred feelings in public. Father and the
+people also wish you to be present at the general commemorative
+services, when our Senator will deliver a eulogy on those of our town
+who have fallen; but I don't think you should go if you feel that it
+will have a bad effect on you."
+
+"I shall be present, Helen. I suppose my mind has been weak like my
+body; but the time has come when I must take up life again and accept
+its conditions as others are doing. You certainly are setting me a good
+example. I admit that my illness has left a peculiar repugnance to
+hearing and thinking about the war; it all seemed so very horrible. But
+if our brave men can face the thing itself, I should be weak indeed if
+I could not listen to a eulogy of their deeds."
+
+"I am coming to think," resumed Helen, thoughtfully, "that the battle
+line extends from Maine to the Gulf, and that quiet people like you and
+me are upon it as truly as the soldiers in the field. I have thought
+that perhaps the most merciful wounds are often those which kill
+outright."
+
+"I can easily believe that," he said.
+
+His quiet tone and manner did not deceive her, and she looked at him
+wistfully as she resumed, "But if they do not kill, the pain must be
+borne patiently, even though we are in a measure disabled."
+
+"Yes, Helen; and you are disabled in your power to give me what I can
+never help giving you. I know that. I will not misjudge or presume upon
+your kindness. We are too good friends to affect any concealments from
+each other."
+
+"You have expressed my very thought. When you spoke of accepting the
+conditions of life, I hoped you had in mind what you have said--the
+conditions of life as they ARE, as we cannot help or change them. We
+both have got to take up life under new conditions."
+
+"You have; not I, Helen."
+
+Tears rushed to her eyes as she faltered, "I would be transparently
+false should I affect not to know. What I wish you to feel through the
+coming months and years is that I cannot--that I am disabled by my
+wound."
+
+"I understand, Helen. We can go on as we have begun. You have lost, as
+I have not, for I have never possessed. You will be the greater
+sufferer; and it will be my dear privilege to cheer and sustain you in
+such ways as are possible to a simple friend."
+
+She regarded him gratefully, and for the first time since that terrible
+May morning the semblance of a smile briefly illumined her face.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+MARTINE SEEKS AN ANTIDOTE
+
+
+It can readily be understood that Martine in his expedition to the
+South had not limited his efforts solely to his search for Captain
+Nichol. Wherever it had been within his power he had learned all that
+he could of other officers and men who had come from his native region;
+and his letters to their relatives had been in some instances sources
+of unspeakable comfort. In his visit to the front he had also seen and
+conversed with his fellow-townsmen, some of whom had since perished or
+had been wounded. As he grew stronger, Helen wrote out at his dictation
+all that he could remember concerning these interviews; and these
+accounts became precious heirlooms in many families.
+
+On the Fourth of July the commemorative oration was delivered by the
+Senator, who proved himself to be more than senator by his deep, honest
+feeling and good taste. The "spread eagle" element was conspicuously
+absent in his solemn, dignified, yet hopeful words. He gave to each
+their meed of praise. He grew eloquent over the enlisted men who had so
+bravely done their duty without the incentive of ambition. When he
+spoke of the honor reflected on the village by the heroism of Captain
+Nichol, the hearts of the people glowed with gratitude and pride; but
+thoughts of pity came to all as they remembered the girl, robed in
+black, who sat with bowed head among them.
+
+"I can best bring my words to a close," said the Senator, "by reading
+part of a letter written by one of your townsmen, a private in the
+ranks, yet expressive of feelings inseparable from our common human
+nature:
+
+"DEAR FATHER--You know I ain't much given to fine feelings or fine
+words. Poor Sam beat me all holler in such things; but I want you and
+all the folks in Alton to know that you've got a regular soldier at
+home. Of course we were all glad to see Bart Martine; and we expected
+to have a good-natured laugh at his expense when the shells began to
+fly. Soldiers laugh, as they eat, every chance they get, 'cause they
+remember it may be the last one. Well, we knew Bart didn't know any
+more about war than a chicken, and we expected to see him get very
+nervous and limp off to the rear on the double quick. He didn't scare
+worth a cent. When a shell screeched over our heads, he just waited
+till the dinged noise was out of our ears and then went on with his
+questions about poor Cap and Sam and the others from our town. We were
+supporting a battery, and most of us lying down. He sat there with us a
+good hour, telling about the folks at home, and how you were all
+following us with your thoughts and prayers, and how you all mourned
+with those who lost friends, and were looking after the children of the
+killed and wounded. Fact is, before we knew it we were all on our feet
+cheering for Alton and the folks at home and the little lame man, who
+was just as good a soldier as any of us. I tell you he heartened up the
+boys, what's left of us. I'm sorry to hear he's so sick. If he should
+die, bury him with a soldier's honors. JAMES WETHERBY."
+
+"These plain, simple, unadorned words," concluded the Senator, "need no
+comment. Their force and significance cannot be enhanced by anything I
+can say. I do not know that I could listen quietly to shrieking and
+exploding shells while I spoke words of courage and good cheer; but I
+do know that I wish to be among the foremost to honor your modest,
+unassuming townsman, who could do all this and more."
+
+Martine was visibly distressed by this unexpected feature in the
+oration and the plaudits which followed. He was too sad, too weak in
+body and mind, and too fresh from the ghastly battlefield, not to
+shrink in sensitive pain from personal and public commendation. He
+evaded his neighbors as far as possible and limped hastily away.
+
+He did not see Helen again till the following morning, for her wound
+had been opened afresh, and she spent the remainder of the day and
+evening in the solitude of her room. Martine was troubled at this, and
+thought she felt as he did.
+
+In the morning she joined him on the piazza. She was pale from her long
+sad vigil, but renewed strength and a gentle patience were expressed in
+her thin face.
+
+"It's too bad, Helen," he broke out in unwonted irritation. "I wouldn't
+have gone if I had known. It was a miserable letting down of all that
+had gone before--that reference to me."
+
+Now she smiled brightly as she said, "You are the only one present who
+thought so. Has this been worrying you?"
+
+"Yes, it has. If the speaker had seen what I saw, he would have known
+better. His words only wounded me."
+
+"He judged you by other men, Hobart. His words would not have wounded
+very many. I'm glad I heard that letter--that I have learned what I
+never could from you. I'm very proud of my friend. What silly creatures
+women are, anyway! They want their friends to be brave, yet dread the
+consequences of their being so beyond words."
+
+"Well," said Martine, a little grimly, "I'm going to my office
+to-morrow. I feel the need of a long course of reading in Blackstone."
+
+"You must help keep me busy also," was her reply.
+
+"I've thought about that; yes, a great deal. You need some wholesome,
+natural interest that is capable of becoming somewhat absorbing. Is it
+strange that I should recommend one phase of my hobby, flowers? You
+know that every tree, shrub, and plant on our little place is a sort of
+a pet with me. You are fond of flowers, but have never given much
+thought to their care, leaving that to your gardener. Flowers are only
+half enjoyed by those who do not cultivate them, nurse, or pet them.
+Then there is such an infinite variety that before you know it your
+thoughts are pleasantly occupied in experimenting with even one family
+of plants. It is an interest which will keep you much in the open air
+and bring you close to Mother Nature."
+
+The result of this talk was that the sad-hearted girl first by resolute
+effort and then by a growing fondness for the tasks, began to take a
+personal interest in the daily welfare of her plants. Martine and her
+father were always on the look-out for something new and rare; and as
+winter approached, the former had a small conservatory built on the
+sunny side of the house. They also gave her several caged song-birds,
+which soon learned to recognize and welcome her. From one of his
+clients Martine obtained a droll-looking dog that seemed to possess
+almost human intelligence. In the daily care of living things and
+dependent creatures that could bloom or be joyous without jarring upon
+her feelings, as would human mirth or gayety, her mind became
+wholesomely occupied part of each day; she could smile at objects which
+did not know, which could not understand.
+
+Still, there was no effort on her part to escape sad memories or the
+acts and duties which revived them. A noble monument had been erected
+to Captain Nichol, and one of her chief pleasures was to decorate it
+with the flowers grown under her own care. Few days passed on which she
+did not visit one of the families who were or had been represented at
+the front, while Mrs. Nichol felt that if she had lost a son she had in
+a measure gained a daughter. As the months passed and winter was
+wellnigh spent, the wise gossips of the village again began to shake
+their heads and remark, "Helen Kemble and Bart Martine are very good
+friends; but I guess that's all it will amount to--all, at any rate,
+for a long time."
+
+All, for all time, Helen had honestly thought. It might easily have
+been for all time had another lover sought her, or if Martine himself
+had become a wooer and so put her on her guard. It was his patient
+acceptance of what she had said could not be helped, his
+self-forgetfulness, which caused her to remember his need--a need
+greatly increased by a sad event. In the breaking up of winter his
+mother took a heavy cold which ended in pneumonia and death.
+
+The gossips made many plans for him and indulged in many surmises as to
+what he would do; but he merely engaged the services of an old woman as
+domestic, and lived on quietly as before. Perhaps he grew a little
+morbid after this bereavement and clung more closely to his lonely
+hearth.
+
+This would not be strange. Those who dwell among shadows become ill at
+ease away from them. Helen was the first to discover this tendency, and
+to note that he was not rallying as she had hoped he would. He rarely
+sought their house except by invitation, and then often lapsed into
+silences which he broke with an evident effort. He never uttered a word
+of complaint or consciously appealed for sympathy, but was slowly
+yielding to the steady pressure of sadness which had almost been his
+heritage. She would have been less than woman if, recalling the past
+and knowing so well the unsatisfied love in his heart, she had not felt
+for him daily a larger and deeper commiseration. When the early March
+winds rattled the casements, or drove the sleety rain against the
+windows, she saw him in fancy sitting alone brooding, always brooding.
+
+One day she asked abruptly, "Hobart, what are you thinking about so
+deeply when you are looking at the fire?"
+
+A slow, deep flush came into his face, and he hesitated in his answer.
+At last he said, "I fear I'm getting into a bad mood, and think I must
+do something decided. Well, for one thing, the continuance of this war
+weighs upon my spirit. Men are getting so scarce that I believe they
+will take me in some capacity. Now that mother is not here, I think I
+ought to go."
+
+"Oh, Hobart, we would miss you so!" she faltered.
+
+He looked up with a smile. "Yes, Helen, I think you would--not many
+others, though. You have become so brave and strong that you do not
+need me any more."
+
+"I am not so brave and strong as I seem. If I were, how did I become
+so? With the tact and delicacy of a woman, yet with the strength of a
+man, you broke the crushing force of the first blow, and have helped me
+ever since."
+
+"You see everything through a very friendly medium. At any rate I could
+not have been content a moment if I had not done all in my power. You
+do not need me any longer; you have become a source of strength to
+others. I cannot help seeing crowded hospital wards; and the thought
+pursues me that in one of them I might do something to restore a
+soldier to his place in the field or save him for those at home. I
+could at least be a hospital nurse, and I believe it would be better
+for me to be doing some such work."
+
+"I believe it would be better for me also," she answered, her eyes full
+of tears.
+
+"No, Helen--no, indeed. You have the higher mission of healing the
+heart-wounds which the war is making in your own vicinity. You should
+not think of leaving your father and mother in their old age, or of
+filling their days with anxiety which might shorten their lives."
+
+"It will be very hard for us to let you go. Oh, I did not think I would
+have to face this also!"
+
+He glanced at her hastily, for there was a sharp distress in her tone,
+of which she was scarcely conscious herself. Then, as if recollecting
+himself, he reasoned gently and earnestly: "You were not long in
+adopting the best antidote for trouble. In comforting others, you have
+been comforted. The campaign is opening in Virginia; and I think it
+would be a good and wholesome thing for me to be at work among the
+wounded. If I can save one life, it will be such a comfort after the
+war is over."
+
+"Yes," she replied, softly; "the war will be over some day. Albert, in
+his last letter, said the war would cease, and that happy days of peace
+were coming. How they can ever be happy days to some I scarcely know;
+but he seemed to foresee the future when he wrote."
+
+"Helen, I'm going. Perhaps the days of peace will be a little happier
+if I go."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+SECOND BLOOM
+
+
+Martine carried out his purpose almost immediately, seeking the
+temporary and most exposed hospitals on the extreme left of Grant's
+army before Petersburg. Indeed, while battles were still in progress he
+would make his way to the front and become the surgeon's tireless
+assistant. While thus engaged, even under the enemy's fire, he was able
+to render services to Jim Wetherby which probably saved the soldier's
+life. Jim lost his right arm, but found a nurse who did not let him
+want for anything till the danger point following amputation had
+passed. Before many weeks he was safe at home, and from him Helen
+learned more of Martine's quiet heroism than she could ever gather from
+his letters. In Jim Wetherby's estimation, Cap and Bart Martine were
+the two heroes of the war.
+
+The latter had found the right antidote. Not a moment was left for
+morbid brooding. On every side were sharp physical distress, deadly
+peril to life and limb, pathetic efforts to hold ground against
+diseases or sloughing wounds. In aiding such endeavor, in giving moral
+support and physical care, Martine forgot himself. Helen's letters also
+were an increasing inspiration. He could scarcely take up one of them
+and say, "Here her words begin to have a warmer tinge of feeling;" but
+as spring advanced, imperceptibly yet surely, in spite of pauses and
+apparent retrogressions, just so surely she revealed a certain warmth
+of sympathy. He was engaged in a work which made it easy for her to
+idealize him. His unselfish effort to help men live, to keep bitter
+tears from the eyes of their relatives, appealed most powerfully to all
+that was unselfish in her nature, and she was beginning to ask, "If I
+can make this man happier, why should I not do so?" Nichol's letter
+gained a new meaning in the light of events: "I do not ask you to
+forget me--that would be worse than death--but I ask you to try to be
+happy and to make others happy."
+
+"A noble, generous nature prompted those words," she now often mused.
+"How can I obey their spirit better than in rewarding the man who not
+only has done so much for me, but also at every cost sought to rescue
+him?"
+
+In this growing disposition she had no innate repugnance to overcome,
+nor the shrinking which can neither be defined nor reasoned against.
+Accustomed to see him almost daily from childhood, conscious for years
+that he was giving her a love that was virtually homage, she found her
+heart growing very compassionate and ready to yield the strong, quiet
+affection which she believed might satisfy him. This had come about
+through no effort on her part, from no seeking on his, but was the
+result of circumstances, the outgrowth of her best and most unselfish
+feelings.
+
+But the effect began to separate itself in character from its causes.
+All that had gone before might explain why she was learning to love
+him, and be sufficient reason for this affection, but a woman's love,
+even that quiet phase developing in Helen's heart, is not like a man's
+conviction, for which he can give his clear-cut reasons. It is a
+tenderness for its object--a wish to serve and give all in return for
+what it receives.
+
+Martine vaguely felt this change in Helen long before he understood it.
+He saw only a warmer glow of sisterly affection, too high a valuation
+of his self-denying work, and a more generous attempt to give him all
+the solace and support within her power.
+
+One day in July, when the war was well over and the field hospitals
+long since broken up, he wrote from Washington, where he was still
+pursuing his labors:
+
+"My work is drawing to a close. Although I have not accomplished a
+tithe of what I wished to do, and have soon so much left undone, I am
+glad to remember that I have alleviated much pain and, I think, saved
+some lives. Such success as I have had, dear Helen, has largely been
+due to you. Your letters have been like manna. You do not know--it
+would be impossible for you to know--the strength they have given, the
+inspiration they have afforded. I am naturally very weary and worn
+physically, and the doctors say I must soon have rest; but your kind
+words have been life-giving to my soul. I turn to them from day to day
+as one would seek a cool, unfailing spring. I can now accept life
+gratefully with the conditions which cannot be changed. How fine is the
+influence of a woman like you! What deep springs of action it touches!
+When waiting on the sick and wounded, I try to blend your womanly
+nature with my coarser fibre. Truly, neither of us has suffered in vain
+if we learn better to minister to others. I cannot tell you how I long
+to see the home gardens again; and it now seems that just to watch you
+in yours will be unalloyed happiness."
+
+Helen smiled over this letter with sweet, deep meanings in her eyes.
+
+One August evening, as the Kemble family sat at tea, he gave them a
+joyous surprise by appearing at the door and asking in a matter-of-fact
+voice, "Can you put an extra plate on the table?"
+
+There was no mistaking the gladness of her welcome, for it was as
+genuine as the bluff heartiness of her father and the gentle solicitude
+of her mother, who exclaimed, "Oh, Hobart, how thin and pale you are!"
+
+"A few weeks' rest at home will remedy all that," he said. "The heat in
+Washington was more trying than my work."
+
+"Well, thank the Lord! you ARE at home once more," cried the banker. "I
+was thinking of drawing on the authorities at Washington for a neighbor
+who had been loaned much too long."
+
+"Helen," said Martine, with pleased eyes, "how well you look! It is a
+perfect delight to see color in your cheeks once more. They are
+gaining, too, their old lovely roundness. I'm going to say what I think
+right out, for I've been with soldiers so long that I've acquired their
+bluntness."
+
+"It's that garden work you lured me into," she explained. "I hope you
+won't think your plants and trees have been neglected."
+
+"Have you been keeping my pets from missing me?"
+
+"I guess they have missed you least of all. Helen has seen to it that
+they were cared for first," said Mrs. Kemble, emphatically.
+
+"You didn't write about that;" and he looked at the girl gratefully.
+
+"Do you think I could see weeds and neglect just over the fence?" she
+asked, with a piquant toss of her head.
+
+"Do you think I could believe that you cared for my garden only that
+your eyes might not be offended?"
+
+"There, I only wished to give you a little surprise. You have treated
+us to one by walking in with such delightful unexpectedness, and so
+should understand. I'll show you when you are through supper."
+
+"I'm through now;" and he rose with a promptness most pleasing to her.
+His gladness in recognizing old and carefully nurtured friends, his
+keen, appreciative interest in the new candidates for favor that she
+had planted, rewarded her abundantly.
+
+"Oh," he exclaimed, "what a heavenly exchange from the close, fetid air
+of hospital wards! Could the first man have been more content in his
+divinely planted garden?"
+
+She looked at him shyly and thought, "Perhaps when you taste of the
+fruit of knowledge the old story will have a new and better meaning."
+
+She now regarded him with a new and wistful interest, no longer seeing
+him through the medium of friendship only. His face, thin and
+spiritualized, revealed his soul without disguise. It was the
+countenance of one who had won peace through the divine path of
+ministry--healing others, himself had been healed. She saw also his
+unchanged, steadfast love shining like a gem over which flows a crystal
+current. Its ray was as serene as it was undimmed. It had taken its
+place as an imperishable quality in his character--a place which it
+would retain without vicissitude unless some sign from her called it
+into immediate and strong manifestation. She was in no haste to give
+this. Time was touching her kindly; the sharp, cruel outlines of the
+past were softening in the distance, and she was content to remember
+that the treasure was hers when she was ready for it--a treasure more
+valued daily.
+
+With exultation she saw him honored by the entire community. Few days
+passed without new proofs of the hold he had gained on the deepest and
+best feelings of the people. She who once had pitied now looked up to
+him as the possessor of that manhood which the most faultless outward
+semblance can only suggest.
+
+Love is a magician at whose touch the plainest features take on new
+aspects. Helen's face had never been plain. Even in its anguish it had
+produced in beholders the profound commiseration which is more readily
+given when beauty is sorrowful. Now that a new life at heart was
+expressing itself, Martine, as well as others, could not fail to note
+the subtile changes. While the dewy freshness of her girlish bloom was
+absent, the higher and more womanly qualities were now revealing
+themselves. Her nature had been deepened by her experiences, and the
+harmony of her life was all the sweeter for its minor chords.
+
+To Martine she became a wonderful mystery, and he almost worshipped the
+woman whose love he believed buried in an unknown grave, but whose eyes
+were often so strangely kind. He resumed his old life, but no longer
+brooded at home, when the autumn winds began to blow. He recognized the
+old danger and shunned it resolutely. If he could not beguile his
+thoughts from Helen, it was but a step to her home, and her eyes always
+shone with a luminous welcome. Unless detained by study of the legal
+points of some case in hand, he usually found his way over to the
+Kemble fireside before the evening passed, and his friends encouraged
+him to come when he felt like it. The old banker found the young man
+exceedingly companionable, especially in his power to discuss
+intelligently the new financial conditions into which the country was
+passing. Helen would smile to herself as she watched the two men
+absorbed in questions she little understood, and observed her mother
+nodding drowsily over her knitting. The scene was so peaceful, so
+cheery, so hopeful against the dark background of the past, that she
+could not refrain from gratitude. Her heart no longer ached with
+despairing sorrow, and the anxious, troubled expression had faded out
+of her parents' faces.
+
+"Yes," she would murmur softly to herself, "Albert was right; the
+bloody war has ceased, and the happy days of peace are coming. Heaven
+has blessed him and made his memory doubly blessed, in that he had the
+heart to wish them to be happy, although he could not live to see them.
+Unconsciously he took the thorns out of the path which led to his
+friend and mine. How richly father enjoys Hobart's companionship! He
+will be scarcely less happy--when he knows--than yonder friend, who is
+such a very scrupulous friend. Indeed, how either is ever going to know
+I scarcely see, unless I make a formal statement."
+
+Suddenly Martine turned, and caught sight of her expression.
+
+"All I have for your thoughts! What wouldn't I give to know them!"
+
+Her face became rosier than the firelight warranted as she laughed
+outright and shook her head.
+
+"No matter," he said; "I am content to hear you laugh like that."
+
+"Yes, yes," added the banker; "Helen's laugh is sweeter to me than any
+music I ever heard. Thank God! we all can laugh again. I am getting
+old, and in the course of nature must soon jog on to the better
+country. When that time comes, the only music I want to hear from earth
+is good, honest laughter."
+
+"Now, papa, hush that talk right away," cried Helen, with glistening
+eyes.
+
+"What's the matter?" Mrs. Kemble asked, waking up.
+
+"Nothing, my dear, only it's time for us old people to go to bed."
+
+"Well, I own that it would be more becoming to sleep there than to
+reflect so unfavorably on your conversation. Of late years talk about
+money matters always puts me to sleep."
+
+"That wasn't the case, was it, my dear, when we tried to stretch a
+thousand so it would reach from one January to another?"
+
+"I remember," she replied, smiling and rolling up her knitting, "that
+we sometimes had to suspend specie payments. Ah, well, we were happy."
+
+When left alone, it was Helen's turn to say, "Now your thoughts are
+wool-gathering. You don't see the fire when you look at it that way."
+
+"No, I suppose not," replied Martine. "I'll be more frank than you.
+Your mother's words, 'We were happy,' left an echo in my mind. How
+experience varies! It is pleasant to think that there are many
+perfectly normal, happy lives like those of your father and mother."
+
+"That's one thing I like in you, Hobart. You are so perfectly willing
+that others should be happy."
+
+"Helen, I agree with your father. Your laugh WAS music, the sweetest I
+ever heard. I'm more than willing that you should be happy. Why should
+you not be? I have always felt that what he said was true--what he said
+about the right to laugh after sorrow--but it never seemed so true
+before. Who could wish to leave blighting sorrow after him? Who could
+sing in heaven if he knew that he had left tears which could not be
+dried on earth?"
+
+"You couldn't," she replied with bowed head.
+
+"Nor you, either; nor the brave man who died, to whom I only do justice
+in believing that he would only be happier could he hear your laugh.
+Your father's wholesome, hearty nature should teach us to banish every
+morbid tendency. Let your heart grow as light as it will, my friend.
+Your natural impulses will not lead you astray. Good-night."
+
+"You feel sure of that?" she asked, giving him a hand that fluttered in
+his, and looking at him with a soft fire in her eyes.
+
+"Oh, Helen, how distractingly beautiful you are! You are blooming again
+like your Jack-roses when the second growth pushes them into flower.
+There; I must go. If I had a stone in my breast instead of a
+heart--Good-night. I won't be weak again."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+MORE THAN REWARD
+
+
+Helen Kemble's character was simple and direct She was one who lived
+vividly in the passing hour, and had a greater capacity for deep
+emotions than for retaining them. The reputation for constancy is
+sometimes won by those incapable of strong convictions. A scratch upon
+a rock remains in all its sharpness, while the furrow that has gone
+deep into the heart of a field is eventually almost hidden by a new
+flowering growth. The truth was fully exemplified in Helen's case; and
+a willingness to marry her lifelong lover, prompted at first by a
+spirit of self-sacrifice, had become, under the influence of daily
+companionship, more than mere assent. While gratitude and the wish to
+see the light of a great, unexpected joy come into his eyes remained
+her chief motives, she had learned that she could attain a happiness
+herself, not hoped for once, in making him happy.
+
+He was true to his word, after the interview described in the preceding
+chapter. He did not consciously reveal the unappeased hunger of his
+heart, but her intuition was never at fault a moment.
+
+One Indian-summer-like morning, about the middle of October, he went
+over to her home and said, "Helen, what do you say to a long day's
+outing? The foliage is at its brightest, the air soft as that of June.
+Why not store up a lot of this sunshine for winter use?"
+
+"Yes, Helen, go," urged her mother. "I can attend to everything."
+
+"A long day, did you stipulate?" said the girl in ready assent; "that
+means we should take a lunch. I don't believe you ever thought of that."
+
+"We could crack nuts, rob apple-orchards, or if driven to extremity,
+raid a farmhouse."
+
+"You have heard too much from the soldiers about living off the
+country. I'd rather raid mamma's cupboard before we start. I'll be
+ready as soon as you are."
+
+He soon appeared in his low, easy phaeton; and she joined him with the
+presentiment that there might be even greater gladness in his face by
+evening than it now expressed. While on the way to the brow of a
+distant hill which would be their lunching place, they either talked
+with the freedom of old friends or lapsed into long silences.
+
+At last he asked, "Isn't it a little odd that when with you the sense
+of companionship is just as strong when you are not talking?"
+
+"It's a comfort you are so easily entertained. Don't you think I'm a
+rather moderate talker for a woman?"
+
+"Those that talk the most are often least entertaining. I've thought a
+good deal about it--the unconscious influence of people on one another.
+I don't mean influence in any moral sense, but in the power to make one
+comfortable or uncomfortable, and to produce a sense of restfulness and
+content or to make one ill at ease and nervously desirous of escape."
+
+"And you have actually no nervous desire to escape, no castings around
+in your mind for an excuse to turn around and drive home?"
+
+"No one could give a surer answer to your question than yourself. I've
+been thinking of something pleasanter than my enjoyment."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"That your expression has been a very contented one during the last
+hour. I am coming to believe that you can accept my friendship without
+effort. You women are all such mysteries! One gets hold of a clew now
+and then. I have fancied that if you had started out in the spirit of
+self-sacrifice that I might have a pleasant time, you would be more
+conscious of your purpose. Even your tact might not have kept me from
+seeing that you were exerting yourself; but the very genius of the day
+seems to possess you. Nature is not exerting herself in the least. No
+breath of air is stirring; all storms are in the past or the future.
+With a smile on her face, she is just resting in serene content, as you
+were, I hope. She is softening and obscuring everything distant by an
+orange haze, so that the sunny present may be all the more real. Days
+like these will do you good, especially if your face and manner reveal
+that you can be as truly at rest as Nature."
+
+"Yet what changes may soon pass over the placid scene!"
+
+"Yes, but don't think of them."
+
+"Well, I won't--not now. Yes, you are becoming very penetrating. I am
+not exerting myself in the least to give you a pleasant time. I am just
+selfishly and lazily content."
+
+"That fact gives me so much more than content that it makes me happy."
+
+"Hobart, you are the most unselfish man I ever knew."
+
+"Nonsense!"
+
+They had reached their picnic-ground--the edge of a grove whose
+bright-hued foliage still afforded a grateful shade. The horse was
+unharnessed and picketed so that he might have a long range for
+grazing. Then Martine brought the provision basket to the foot of a
+great oak, and sat down to wait for Helen, who had wandered away in
+search of wild flowers. At last she came with a handful of
+late-blooming closed gentians.
+
+"I thought these would make an agreeable feature in your lunch."
+
+"Oh, you are beginning to exert yourself."
+
+"Yes, I have concluded to, a little. So must you, to the extent of
+making a fire. The rest will be woman's work. I propose to drink your
+health in a cup of coffee."
+
+"Ah, this is unalloyed," he cried, sipping it later on.
+
+"The coffee?"
+
+"Yes, and everything. We don't foresee the bright days any more than
+the dark ones. I did not dream of this in Virginia."
+
+"You are easily satisfied. The coffee is smoky, the lunch is cold,
+winter is coming, and--"
+
+"And I am very happy," he said.
+
+"It would be a pity to disturb your serenity."
+
+"Nothing shall disturb it to-day. Peace is one of the rarest
+experiences in this world. I mean only to remember that our armies are
+disbanded and that you are at rest, like Nature."
+
+She had brought a little book of autumn poems, and after lunch read to
+him for an hour, he listening with the same expression of quiet
+satisfaction. As the day declined, she shivered slightly in the shade.
+He immediately arose and put a shawl around her.
+
+"You are always shielding me," she said gently.
+
+"One can do so little of that kind of thing," he replied, "not much
+more than show intent."
+
+"Now you do yourself injustice." After a moment's hesitancy she added,
+"I am not quite in your mood to-day, and even Nature, as your ally,
+cannot make me forget or even wish to forget."
+
+"I do not wish you to forget, but merely cease to remember for a little
+while. You say Nature is my ally. Listen: already the wind is beginning
+to sigh in the branches overhead. The sound is low and mournful, as if
+full of regret for the past and forebodings for the future. There is a
+change coming. All that I wished or could expect in you was that this
+serene, quiet day would give you a respite--that complete repose in
+which the wounded spirit is more rapidly healed and strengthened for
+the future."
+
+"Have you been strengthened? Have you no fears for the future?"
+
+"No fears, Helen. My life is strong in its negation. The man who is
+agitated by hopes and fears, who is doomed to disappointments, is the
+one who has not recognized his limitations, who has not accepted
+well-defined conditions."
+
+"Hobart, I'm going to put you on your honor now. Remember, and do not
+answer hastily," and her gaze into his face was searching. Although
+quiet and perfectly self-controlled, the rich color mounted to her very
+brow.
+
+"Well, Helen," he asked wonderingly.
+
+"Imagine it possible," she continued with the same earnest gaze, "that
+you were a woman who has loved as I have loved, and lost as I have. The
+circumstances are all known, and you have only to recall them. If a man
+had loved you as you have loved me--"
+
+"But, Helen, can you not believe in a love so strong that it does not
+ask--"
+
+By a gesture she checked him and repeated, "But if a man had loved you
+as you have loved me--remember now, on your honor--would you permit him
+to love with no better reward than the consciousness of being a solace,
+a help, a sort of buffer between you and the ills of life?"
+
+"But, Helen, I am more than that: I am your friend."
+
+"Indeed you are, the best a woman ever had, or I could not speak as I
+am doing. Yet what I say is true. From the first it has been your
+sleepless aim to stand between me and trouble. What have I ever done
+for you?"
+
+"In giving me your friendship--"
+
+Again she interrupted him, saying, "That virtually means giving you the
+chance for continued self-sacrifice. Any man or woman in the land would
+give you friendship on such terms, YOUR terms with me. But you do not
+answer my question; yet you have answered it over and over again. Were
+you in my place with your unselfish nature, you could not take so very
+much without an inevitable longing to return all in your power."
+
+He was deeply agitated. Burying his face in his hands, he said
+hoarsely, "I must not look at you, or my duty may be too hard. Ah, you
+are banishing peace and serenity now with a vengeance! I recognize your
+motive--whither your thoughts are tending. Your conscience, your pity,
+your exaggerated gratitude are driving you to contemplate a
+self-sacrifice compared with which mine is as nothing. Yet the
+possibility of what you suggest is so sweet, so--oh, it is like the
+reward of heaven for a brief life!" Then he bowed his head lower and
+added slowly, as if the words were forced from him, "No, Helen, you
+shall not reward me. I cannot take as pay, or 'return,' as you express
+it, the reward that you are meditating. I must not remember in after
+years that my efforts in your behalf piled up such a burdensome sense
+of obligation that there was but one escape from it."
+
+She came to his side, and removing his hands from his face, retained
+one of them as she said, gently, "Hobart, I am no longer a shy girl. I
+have suffered too deeply, I have learned too thoroughly how life may be
+robbed of happiness, and for a time, almost of hope, not to see the
+folly of letting the years slip away, unproductive of half what they
+might yield to you and me. I understand you; you do not understand me,
+probably because your ideal is too high. You employed an illustration
+in the narrowest meaning. Is heaven given only as a reward? Is not
+every true gift an expression of something back of the gift, more than
+the gift?"
+
+"Helen!"
+
+"Yes, Hobart, in my wish to make you happier I am not bent on
+unredeemed self-sacrifice. You have been the most skilful of wooers."
+
+"And you are the divinest of mysteries. How have I wooed you?"
+
+"By not wooing at all, by taking a course which compelled my heart to
+plead your cause, by giving unselfish devotion so unstintedly that like
+the rain and dew of heaven, it has fostered a new life in my heart,
+different from the old, yet sweet, real, and precious. I have learned
+that I can be happier in making you happy. Oh, I shall be no martyr. Am
+I inconstant because time and your ministry have healed the old
+wound--because the steady warmth and glow of your love has kindled
+mine?"
+
+He regarded her with a gaze so rapt, so reverent, so expressive of
+immeasurable gratitude that her eyes filled with tears. "I think you do
+understand me," she whispered.
+
+He kissed her hand in homage as he replied, "A joy like this is almost
+as hard to comprehend at first as an equally great sorrow. My garden
+teaches me to understand you. A perfect flower-stalk is suddenly and
+rudely broken. Instead of dying, it eventually sends out a little
+side-shoot which gives what bloom it can."
+
+"And you will be content with what it can give?"
+
+"I shall be glad with a happiness which almost terrifies me. Only God
+knows how I have longed for this."
+
+That evening the old banker scarcely ceased rubbing his hands in
+general felicitation, while practical, housewifely Mrs. Kemble already
+began to plan what she intended to do toward establishing Helen in the
+adjoining cottage.
+
+Now that Martine believed his great happiness possible, he was eager
+for its consummation. At his request the 1st of December was named as
+the wedding day. "The best that a fireside and evening lamp ever
+suggested will then come true to me," ha urged. "Since this can be,
+life is too short that it should not be soon."
+
+Helen readily yielded. Indeed, they were all so absorbed in planning
+for his happiness as to be oblivious of the rising storm. When at last
+the girl went to her room, the wind sighed and wailed so mournfully
+around the house as to produce a feeling of depression and foreboding.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+YANKEE BLANK
+
+
+The wild night storm which followed the most memorable day of his life
+had no power to depress Martine. In the wavy flames and glowing coals
+of his open fire he saw heavenly pictures of the future. He drew his
+mother's low chair to the hearth, and his kindled fancy placed Helen in
+it. Memory could so reproduce her lovely and familiar features that her
+presence became almost a reality. In a sense he watched her changing
+expression and heard her low, mellow tones. The truth that both would
+express an affection akin to his own grew upon his consciousness like
+the incoming of a sun-lighted tide. The darkness and storm without
+became only the background of his pictures, enhancing every prophetic
+representation. The night passed in ecstatic waking dreams of all that
+the word "home" suggests when a woman, loved as he loved Helen, was its
+architect.
+
+The days and weeks which followed were filled with divine enchantment;
+the prosaic world was transfigured; the intricacies of the law were
+luminous with the sheen of gold, becoming the quartz veins from which
+he would mine wealth for Helen; the plants in his little rose-house
+were cared for with caressing tenderness because they gave buds which
+would be worn over the heart now throbbing for him. Never did mortal
+know such unalloyed happiness as blessed Martine, as he became daily
+more convinced that Helen was not giving herself to him merely from the
+promptings of compassion.
+
+At times, when she did not know he was listening, he heard her low,
+sweet laugh; and it had a joyous ring and melody which repeated itself
+like a haunting refrain of music. He would say smilingly, "It is
+circumstantial evidence, equivalent to direct proof."
+
+Helen and her mother almost took possession of his house while he was
+absent at his office, refurnishing and transforming it, yet retaining
+with reverent memory what was essentially associated with Mrs. Martine.
+The changing aspects of the house did not banish the old sense of
+familiarity, but were rather like the apple-tree in the corner of the
+garden when budding into new foliage and flower. The banker's purse was
+ever open for all this renovation, but Martine jealously persisted in
+his resolve to meet every expense himself. Witnessing his gladness and
+satisfaction, they let him have his way, he meanwhile exulting over
+Helen's absorbed interest in the adornment of her future home.
+
+The entire village had a friendly concern in the approaching wedding;
+and the aged gossips never tired of saying, "I told you so," believing
+that they understood precisely how it had all come about. Even Mrs.
+Nichol aquiesced with a few deep sighs, assuring herself, "I suppose
+it's natural. I'd rather it was Bart Martine than anybody else."
+
+A few days before the 1st of December, Martine received a telegram from
+an aged uncle residing in a distant State. It conveyed a request hard
+to comply with, yet he did not see how it could be evaded. The despatch
+was delivered in the evening while he was at the Kembles', and its
+effect upon the little group was like a bolt out of a clear sky. It ran:
+
+"Your cousin dangerously ill at----Hospital, Washington. Go to him at
+once, if possible, and telegraph me to come, if necessary."
+
+Hobart explained that this cousin had remained in the army from choice,
+and that his father, old and feeble, naturally shrank from a journey to
+which he was scarcely equal. "My hospital experience," he concluded,
+"leads him to think that I am just the one to go, especially as I can
+get there much sooner than he. I suppose he is right. Indeed, I do not
+know of any one else whom he could call upon. It certainly is a very
+painful duty at this time."
+
+"I can't endure to think of it," Helen exclaimed.
+
+"It's a clear question of conscience, Helen," he replied gently. "Many
+years have passed since I saw this cousin, yet he, and still more
+strongly his father, have the claims of kinship. If anything should
+happen which my presence could avert, you know we should both feel bad.
+It would be a cloud upon our happiness. If this request had come before
+you had changed everything for me, you know I would have gone without a
+moment's hesitation. Very gratitude should make me more ready for
+duty;" yet he signed deeply.
+
+"But it may delay the wedding, for which the invitations have gone
+out," protested Mrs. Kemble.
+
+"Possibly it may, if my cousin's life is in danger." Then, brightening
+up, he added: "Perhaps I shall find that I can leave him in good care
+for a short time, and then we can go to Washington on our wedding trip.
+I would like to gain associations with that city different from those I
+now have."
+
+"Come now," said the banker, hopefully, "if we must face this thing, we
+must. The probabilities are that it will turn out as Hobart says. At
+worst it can only be a sad interruption and episode. Hobart will be
+better satisfied in the end if he does what he now thinks his duty."
+
+"Yours is the right view," assented the young man, firmly. "I shall
+take the midnight train, and telegraph as soon as I have seen my cousin
+and the hospital surgeon."
+
+He went home and hastily made his preparations; then, with valise in
+hand, returned to the Kembles'. The old people bade him Godspeed on his
+journey, and considerately left him with his affianced.
+
+"Hobart," Helen entreated, as they were parting, "be more than
+ordinarily prudent. Do not take any risks, even the most trivial,
+unless you feel you must. Perhaps I'm weak and foolish, but I'm
+possessed with a strange, nervous dread. This sudden call of duty--for
+so I suppose I must look upon it--seems so inopportune;" and she hid
+her tears on his shoulder.
+
+"You are taking it much too seriously, darling," he said, gently
+drawing her closer to him.
+
+"Yes, my reason tells me that I am. You are only going on a brief
+journey, facing nothing that can be called danger. Yet I speak as I
+feel--I cannot help feeling. Give me glad reassurance by returning
+quickly and safely. Then hereafter I will laugh at forebodings."
+
+"There, you need not wait till I reach Washington. You shall hear from
+me in the morning, and I will also telegraph when I have opportunity on
+my journey."
+
+"Please do so, and remember that I could not endure to have my life
+impoverished again."
+
+Late the following evening, Martine inquired his way to the bedside of
+his cousin, and was glad indeed to find him convalescent. His own
+experienced eyes, together with the statement of the sick man and
+wardmaster, convinced him that the danger point was well passed. In
+immense relief of mind he said cheerily, "I will watch to-night"; and
+so it was arranged.
+
+His cousin, soothed and hushed in his desire to talk, soon dropped into
+quiet slumber, while Martine's thronging thoughts banished the sense of
+drowsiness. A shaded lamp burned near, making a circle of light and
+leaving the rest of the ward dim and shadowy. The scene was very
+familiar, and it was an easy effort for his imagination to place in the
+adjoining cots the patients with whom, months before, he had fought the
+winning or losing battle of life. While memory sometimes went back
+compassionately to those sufferers, his thoughts dwelt chiefly upon the
+near future, with its certainty of happiness--a happiness doubly
+appreciated because his renewed experience in the old conditions of his
+life made the home which awaited him all the sweeter from contrast. He
+could scarcely believe that he was the same man who in places like this
+had sought to forget the pain of bereavement and of denial of his
+dearest wish--he who in the morning would telegraph Helen that the
+wedding need not even be postponed, or any change made in their plans.
+
+The hours were passing almost unnoted, when a patient beyond the circle
+of light feebly called for water. Almost mechanically Hobart rose to
+get it, when a man wearing carpet slippers and an old dressing-gown
+shuffled noiselessly into view.
+
+"Captain Nichol!" gasped Martine, sinking back, faint and trembling, in
+his chair.
+
+The man paid no attention, but passed through the circle of light to
+the patient, gave him a drink, and turned. Martine stared with the
+paralysis of one looking upon an apparition.
+
+When the figure was opposite to him, he again ejaculated hoarsely,
+"Captain Nichol!"
+
+The form in slippers and gray ghostly dressing-gown turned sleepy eyes
+upon him without the slightest sign of recognition, passed on, and
+disappeared among the shadows near the wardmaster's room.
+
+A blending of relief and fearful doubt agitated Martine. He knew he had
+been wide awake and in the possession of every faculty--that his
+imagination had been playing him no tricks. He was not even thinking of
+Nichol at the time; yet the impression that he had looked upon and
+spoken to his old schoolmate, to Helen's dead lover, had been as strong
+as it was instantaneous. When the man had turned, there had been an
+unnatural expression, which in a measure dispelled the illusion. After
+a moment of thought which scorched his brain, he rose and followed the
+man's steps, and was in time to see him rolling himself in his blanket
+on the cot nearest the door. From violent agitation, Martine
+unconsciously shook the figure outlined in the blanket roughly, as he
+asked, "What's your name?"
+
+"Yankee Blank, doggone yer! Kyant you wake a feller 'thout yankin' 'im
+out o' baid? What yer want?"
+
+"Great God!" muttered Hobart, tottering back to his seat beside his
+sleeping cousin, "was there ever such a horrible, mocking suggestion of
+one man in another? Yankee Blank--what a name! Southern accent and
+vernacular, yet Nichol's voice! Such similarity combined with such
+dissimilarity is like a nightmare. Of course it's not Nichol. He was
+killed nearly two years ago. I'd be more than human if I could wish him
+back now; but never in my life have I been so shocked and startled.
+This apparition must account for itself in the morning."
+
+But he could not wait till morning; he could not control himself five
+minutes. He felt that he must banish that horrible semblance of Nichol
+from his mind by convincing himself of its absurdity.
+
+He waited a few moments in order to compose his nerves, and then
+returned. The man had evidently gone to sleep.
+
+"What a fool I am!" Martine again muttered. "Let the poor fellow sleep.
+The fact that he doesn't know me is proof enough. The idea of wanting
+any proof! I can investigate his case in the morning, and, no doubt, in
+broad light that astonishing suggestion of Nichol will disappear."
+
+He was about to turn away when the patient who had called for water
+groaned slightly. As if his ears were as sensitive to such sounds as
+those of a mother who hears her child even when it stirs, the man
+arose. Seeing Martine standing by him, he asked in slight irritation,
+"What yer want? Why kyant yer say what yer want en have done 'th it?
+Lemme 'tend ter that feller yander firs'. We uns don't want no mo'
+stiffs;" and he shuffled with a peculiar, noiseless tread to the
+patient whose case seemed on his mind. Martine followed, his very hair
+rising at the well-remembered tones, and the mysterious principle of
+identity again revealed within the circle of light.
+
+"This is simply horrible!" he groaned inwardly, "and I must have that
+man account for himself instantly."
+
+"Now I'll 'tend ter yer, but yer mout let a feller sleep when he kin."
+
+"Don't you know me?" faltered Martine, overpowered.
+
+"Naw."
+
+"Please tell me your real name, not your nickname."
+
+"Ain' got no name 'cept Yankee Blank. What's the matter with yer,
+anyhow?"
+
+"Didn't you ever hear of Captain Nichol?"
+
+"Reckon not. Mout have. I've nussed mo' cap'ins than I kin reckerlect."
+
+"Are you a hospital nurse?"
+
+"Sorter 'spect I am. That's what I does, anyhow. Have you anything agin
+it? Don't yer come 'ferin' round with me less yer a doctor, astin' no
+end o' questions. Air you a new doctor?"
+
+"My name is Hobart Martine," the speaker forced himself to say,
+expecting fearfully a sign of recognition, for the impression that it
+was Nichol grew upon him every moment, in spite of apparent proof to
+the contrary.
+
+"Hump! Hob't Ma'tine. Never yeared on yer. Ef yer want ter chin mo' in
+the mawnin', I'll be yere."
+
+"Wait a moment, Yan--"
+
+"Yankee Blank, I tole yer."
+
+"Well, here's a dollar for the trouble I'm making you," and Martine's
+face flushed with shame at the act, so divided was his impression about
+the man.
+
+Yankee Blank took the money readily, grinned, and said, "Now I'll chin
+till mawnin' ef yer wants hit."
+
+"I won't keep you long. You remind me of--of--well, of Captain Nichol."
+
+"He must 'a' been a cur'ous chap. Folks all say I'm a cur'ous chap."
+
+"Won't you please tell me all that you can remember about yourself?"
+
+"'Tain't much. Short hoss soon curried. Allus ben in hospitals. Had
+high ole jinks with a wound on my haid. Piece o' shell, they sez, cut
+me yere," and he pointed to a scar across his forehead. "That's what
+they tole me. Lor'! I couldn't mek much out o' the gibberish I firs'
+year, en they sez I talked gibberish too. But I soon got the hang o'
+the talk in the hospital. Well, ez I wuz sayin', I've allus been in
+hospitals firs' one, then anuther. I got well, en the sojers call me
+Yankee Blank en set me waitin' on sick uns en the wounded. That's what
+I'm a-doin' now."
+
+"You were in Southern hospitals?"
+
+"I reckon. They called the place Richman."
+
+"Why did you come here?"
+
+"Kaze I wuz bro't yere. They said I was 'changed."
+
+"Exchanged, wasn't it?"
+
+"Reckon it was. Anyhow I wuz bro't yere with a lot o' sick fellers. I
+wuzn't sick. For a long time the doctors kep' a-pesterin' me with
+questions, but they lemme 'lone now. I 'spected you wuz a new doctor,
+en at it agin."
+
+"Don't you remember the village of Alton?"
+
+The man shook his head.
+
+"Don't you--" and Martine's voice grew husky--"don't you remember Helen
+Kemble?"
+
+"A woman?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Never yeared on her. I only reckerlect people I've seen in hospitals.
+Women come foolin' roun' some days, but Lor'! I kin beat any on 'em
+teekin' keer o' the patients; en wen they dies, I kin lay 'em out. You
+ast the wardmaster ef I kant lay out a stiff with the best o' 'em."
+
+"That will do. You can go to sleep now."
+
+"All right, Doc. I call everybody doc who asts sech a lot o'
+questions." He shuffled to his cot and was soon asleep.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+"HOW CAN I?"
+
+
+Martine sank into his chair again. Although the conversation had been
+carried on in low tones, it was the voice of Nichol that he had heard.
+Closer inspection of the slightly disfigured face proved that, apart
+from the scar on the forehead, it was the countenance of Nichol. A
+possible solution of the mystery was beginning to force itself in
+Hobart's reluctant mind. When Nichol had fallen in the Wilderness, the
+shock of his injury had rendered him senseless and caused him to appear
+dead to the hasty scrutiny of Sam and Jim Wetherby. They were terribly
+excited and had no time for close examination. Nichol might have
+revived, have been gathered up with the Confederate wounded, and sent
+to Richmond. There was dire and tremendous confusion at that period,
+when within the space of two or three days tens of thousands were
+either killed or disabled. In a Southern hospital Nichol might have
+recovered physical health while, from injury to the brain, suffering
+complete eclipse of memory. In this case he would have to begin life
+anew, like a child, and so would pick up the vernacular and bearing of
+the enlisted men with whom he would chiefly associate.
+
+Because he remembered nothing and know nothing, he may at first have
+been tolerated as a "cur'ous chap," then employed as he had explained.
+He could take the place of a better man where men were greatly needed.
+
+This theory could solve the problem; and Martine's hospital experience
+prepared his mind to understand what would be a hopeless mystery to
+many. He was so fearfully excited that he could not remain in the ward.
+The very proximity to this strange being, who had virtually risen from
+the dead and appeared to him of all others, was a sort of torture in
+itself.
+
+What effect would this discovery have on his relations to Helen? He
+dared not think yet he must think. Already the temptation of his life
+was forming in his mind. His cousin was sleeping; and with a wild
+impatience to escape, to get away from all his kind, he stole
+noiselessly out into the midnight and deserted streets. On, on he went,
+limping he knew not, cared not where, for his passion and mental agony
+drove him hither and thither like a leaf before a fitful gale.
+
+"No one knows of this," he groaned. "I can still return and marry
+Helen. But oh, what a secret to carry!"
+
+Then his heart pleaded. "This is not the lover she lost--only a
+horrible, mocking semblance. He has lost his own identity; he does not
+even know himself--would not know her. Ah! I'm not sure of that. I
+would be dead indeed if her dear features did not kindle my eyes in
+recognition. It may be that the sight of her face is the one thing
+essential to restore him. I feel this would be true were it my case.
+But how can I give her up now? How can?--how can I? Oh, this terrible
+journey! No wonder Helen had forebodings. She loves me; she is mine. No
+one else has so good a right. We were to be married only a few hours
+hence. Then she whom I've loved from childhood would make my home a
+heaves on earth. And yet--and yet--" Even in the darkness he buried his
+face in his hands, shuddered, moaned, writhed, and grated his teeth in
+the torment of the conflict.
+
+Hour after hour he wavered, now on the point of yielding, then stung by
+conscience into desperate uncertainty. The night was cold, the howling
+wind would have chilled him at another time, but during his struggle
+great drops of sweat often poured from his face. Only the eye of God
+saw that battle, the hardest that was fought and won during the war.
+
+At last, when well out of the city, he lifted his agonized eyes and saw
+the beautiful hues of morning tingeing the east. Unconsciously, he
+repeated the sublime, creative words, "Let there be light." It came to
+him. With the vanishing darkness, he revolted finally against the
+thought of any shadows existing between him and Helen. She should have
+all the light that he had, and decide her own course. He had little
+hope that she would wed him, even if she did not marry Nichol in his
+present condition--a condition probably only temporary and amenable to
+skilful treatment.
+
+Wearily he dragged his lame foot back to a hotel in the populous party
+of the city, and obtained food and wine, for he was terribly exhausted.
+Next he telegraphed Mr. Kemble:
+
+"Arrived last evening. The wedding will have to be postponed. Will
+explain later."
+
+"It's the best I can do now," he muttered. "Helen will think it is all
+due to my cousin's illness." Then he returned to the hospital and found
+his relative in a state of wonderment at his absence, but refreshed
+from a good night's rest. Yankee Blank was nowhere to be seen.
+
+"Hobart," exclaimed his cousin, "you look ill--ten years older than you
+did last night."
+
+"You see me now by daylight," was the quiet reply. "I am not very well."
+
+"It's a perfect shame that I've been the cause of so much trouble,
+especially when it wasn't necessary."
+
+"Oh, my God!" thought Martine, "there was even no need of this fatal
+journey." But his face had become grave and inscrutable, and the plea
+of ill-health reconciled his cousin to the necessity of immediate
+return. There was no good reason for his remaining, for by a few
+additional arrangements his relative would do very well and soon be
+able to take care of himself. Martine felt that he could not jeopardize
+his hard-won victory by delay, which was as torturing as the time
+intervening between a desperate surgical operation and the knowledge
+that it is inevitable.
+
+After seeing that his cousin made a good breakfast, he sought a private
+interview with the wardmaster. He was able to extract but little
+information about Yankee Blank more than the man had given himself.
+"Doctors say he may regain his memory at any time, or it may be a long
+while, and possibly never," was the conclusion.
+
+"I think I know him," said Martine. "I will bring physician from the
+city to consult this morning with the surgeon in charge."
+
+"I'm glad to hear it," was the reply. "Something would have to be done
+soon. He is just staying on here and making himself useful to some
+extent."
+
+When Martine re-entered the ward, Yankee Blank appeared, grinned, and
+said affably, "Howdy." Alas! a forlorn, miserable hope that he might
+have been mistaken was banished from Hobart's mind now that he saw
+Nichol in the clear light of day. The scar across his forehead and a
+change of expression, denoting the eclipse of fine, cultivated manhood,
+could not disguise the unmistakable features. There was nothing to be
+done but carry out as quickly as possible the purpose which had cost
+him so dear.
+
+He first telegraphed his uncle to dismiss further anxiety, and that his
+son would soon be able to visit him. Then the heavy-hearted man sought
+a physician whom he knew well by reputation.
+
+The consultation was held, and Nichol (as he may be more properly named
+hereafter) was closely questioned and carefully examined. The result
+merely confirmed previous impressions. It was explained, as far as
+explanation can be given of the mysterious functions of the brain, that
+either the concussion of the exploding shell or the wound from a flying
+fragment had paralyzed the organ of memory. When such paralysis would
+cease, if ever, no one could tell. The power to recall everything might
+return at any moment or it might be delayed indefinitely. A shock, a
+familiar face, might supply the potency required, or restoration come
+through the slow, unseen processes of nature. Martine believed that
+Helen's face and voice would accomplish everything.
+
+He was well known to the medical authorities and had no difficulty in
+securing belief that he had identified Nichol. He also promised that
+abundant additional proof should be sent on from Alton, such certainty
+being necessary to secure the officer's back pay and proper discharge
+from the service. The surgeon then addressed the man so strangely
+disabled, "You know I'm in charge of this hospital?"
+
+"I reckon," replied Nichol, anxiously, for the brief experience which
+he could recall had taught him that the authority of the
+surgeon-in-chief was autocratic.
+
+"Well, first, you must give up the name of Yankee Blank. Your name
+hereafter is Captain Nichol."
+
+"All right, Doctor. I'll be a gin'ral ef you sez so."
+
+"Very well; remember your name is Captain Nichol. Next, you must obey
+this man and go with him. You must do just what he says in all
+respects. His name is Mr. Hobart Martine."
+
+"Yes, he tole me las' night, Hob't Ma'tine. He took on mighty cur'ous
+after seein' me."
+
+"Do you understand that you are to mind, to obey him in all respects
+just as you have obeyed me?"
+
+"I reckon. Will he tek me to anuther hospital?"
+
+"He will take you where you will be well cared for and treated kindly."
+Having written Nichol's discharge from the hospital, the surgeon turned
+to other duties.
+
+Martine informed his cousin, as far as it was essential, of the
+discovery he had made and of the duties which it imposed, then took his
+leave. Nichol readily accompanied him, and with the exception of a
+tendency to irritation at little things, exhibited much of the
+good-natured docility of a child. Martine took him to a hotel, saw that
+he had a bath, put him in the hands of a barber, and then sent for a
+clothier. When dressed in clean linen and a dark civilian suit, the
+appearance of the man was greatly improved. Hobart had set his teeth,
+and would entertain no thought of compromise with his conscience. He
+would do by Nichol as he would wish to be done by if their relations
+were reversed. Helen should receive no greater shock than was
+inevitable, nor should Nichol lose the advantage of appearing before
+her in the outward aspect of a gentleman.
+
+Martine then planned his departure so that he would arrive at Alton in
+the evening--the evening of the day on which he was to have been
+married. He felt that Mr. Kemble should see Nichol first and hear the
+strange story; also that the father must break the news to the
+daughter, for he could not. It was a terrible journey to the poor
+fellow, for during the long hours of inaction he was compelled to face
+the probable results of his discovery. The sight of Nichol and his
+manner was intolerable; and in addition, he was almost as much care as
+a child. Everything struck him as new and strange, and he was disposed
+to ask numberless questions. His vernacular, his alternations of
+amusement and irritation, and the oddity of his ignorance concerning
+things which should be simple or familiar to a grown man, attracted the
+attention of his fellow-passengers. It was with difficulty that
+Martine, by his stern, sad face and a cold, repelling manner, kept
+curiosity from intruding at every point.
+
+At last, with heart beating thickly, he saw the lights of Alton
+gleaming in the distance. It was a train not often used by the
+villagers, and fortunately no one had entered the car who knew him;
+even the conductor was a stranger. Alighting at the depot, he hastily
+took a carriage, and with his charge was driven to the private entrance
+of the hotel. Having given the hackman an extra dollar not to mention
+his arrival till morning, he took Nichol into the dimly-lighted and
+deserted parlor and sent for the well-known landlord. Mr. Jackson, a
+bustling little man, who, between the gossip of the place and his few
+guests, never seemed to have a moment's quiet, soon entered. "Why, Mr.
+Martine," he exclaimed, "we wasn't a-lookin' for you yet. News got
+around somehow that your cousin was dyin' in Washington and that your
+weddin' was put off too--Why! you look like a ghost, even in this
+light," and he turned up the lamp.
+
+Martine had told Nichol to stand by a window with his back to the door.
+He now turned the key, pulled down the curtain, then drew his charge
+forward where the light fell clear upon his face, and asked, "Jackson,
+who is that?"
+
+The landlord stared, his jaw fell from sheer astonishment, as he
+faltered, "Captain Nichol!"
+
+"Yes," said Nichol, with a pleased grin, "that's my new name! Jes' got
+it, like this new suit o' clo's, bes' I ever had, doggoned ef they
+ain't. My old name was Yankee Blank."
+
+"Great Scott!" ejaculated Jackson; "is he crazy?"
+
+"Look yere," cried Nichol; "don' yer call me crazy or I'll light on yer
+so yer won't fergit it."
+
+"There, there!" said Martine, soothingly, "Mr. Jackson doesn't mean any
+harm. He's only surprised to see you home again."
+
+"Is this home? What's home?"
+
+"It's the town where you were brought up. We'll make you understand
+about it all before long. Now you shall have some supper. Mr. Jackson
+is a warm friend of yours, and will see that you have a good one."
+
+"I reckon we'll get on ef he gives me plenty o' fodder. Bring it
+toreckly, fer I'm hungry. Quit yer starin', kyant yer?" "Don't you know
+me, Captain Nichol? Why, I--"
+
+"Naw. Never seed ner yeared on yer. Did I ever nuss yer in a hospital?
+I kyant reckerlect all on 'em. Get we uns some supper."
+
+"That's the thing to do first, Jackson," added Martine, "Show us
+upstairs to a private room and wait on us yourself. Please say nothing
+of this till I give you permission."
+
+They were soon established in a suitable apartment, in which a fire was
+kindled. Nichol took a rocking-chair and acquiesced in Martine's going
+out on the pretext of hastening supper.
+
+The landlord received explanations which enabled him to co-operate with
+Martine. "I could not," said the latter, "take him to his own home
+without first preparing his family. Neither could I take him to mine
+for several reasons."
+
+"I can understand some of 'em, Mr. Martine. Why, great Scott! How about
+your marriage, now that--"
+
+"We won't discuss that subject. The one thing for you to keep in mind
+is that Nichol lost his memory at the time of his wound. He don't like
+to be stared at or thought strange. You must humor him much as you
+would a child. Perhaps the sight of familiar faces and scenes will
+restore him. Now copy this note in your handwriting and send it to Mr.
+Kemble. Tell your messenger to be sure to put it into the banker's
+hands and no other's," and he tore from his note-book a leaf on which
+was pencilled the following words:
+
+"MR. KEMBLE:
+
+"DEAR SIR--A sick man at the hotel wishes to see you on important
+business. Don't think it's bad news about Mr. Martine, because it
+isn't. Please come at once and oblige, HENRY JACKSON."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+SHADOWS OF COMING EVENTS
+
+
+This first day of winter, her fatal wedding-day, was a sad and strange
+one to Helen Kemble. The sun was hidden by dark clouds, yet no snow
+fell on the frozen ground. She had wakened in the morning with a start,
+oppressed by a disagreeable yet forgotten dream. Hastily dressing, she
+consoled herself with the hope of a long letter from Martine,
+explaining everything and assuring her of his welfare; but the early
+mail brought nothing. As the morning advanced, a telegram from
+Washington, purposely delayed, merely informed her that her affianced
+was well and that full information was on its way.
+
+"He has evidently found his cousin very low, and needing constant
+care," she had sighingly remarked at dinner.
+
+"Yes, Nellie," said the banker, cheerily, "but it is a comfort he is
+well. No doubt you are right about his cousin, and it has turned out as
+Hobart feared. In this case it is well he went, for he would always
+have reproached himself if he had not. The evening mail will probably
+make all clear."
+
+"It has been so unfortunate!" complained Mrs. Kemble. "If it had only
+happened a little earlier, or a little later! To have all one's
+preparations upset and one's plans frustrated is exasperating. Were it
+not for that journey, Helen would have been married by this time.
+People come ostensibly to express sympathy, but in reality to ask
+questions."
+
+"I don't care about people," said Helen, "but the day has been so
+different from what we expected that it's hard not to yield to a
+presentiment of trouble. It is so dark and gloomy that we almost need a
+lamp at midday."
+
+"Well, well," cried hearty Mr. Kemble, "I'm not going to cross any
+bridges till I come to them. That telegram from Hobart is all we need,
+to date. I look at things as I do at a bank-bill. If its face is all
+right, and the bill itself all right, that's enough. You women-folks
+have such a lot of moods and tenses! Look at this matter sensibly.
+Hobart was right in going. He's doing his duty, and soon will be back
+with mind and conscience at rest. It isn't as if he were ill himself."
+
+"Yes, papa, that's just the difference; we women feel, and you men
+reason. What you say, though, is a good wholesome antidote. I fear I'm
+a little morbid to-day."
+
+After dinner she and her mother slipped over to the adjoining cottage,
+which had been made so pretty for her reception. While Mrs. Kemble
+busied herself here and there, Helen kindled a fire on the hearth of
+the sitting-room and sat down in the low chair which she knew was
+designed for her. The belief that she would occupy it daily and be at
+home, happy herself and, better far, making another, to whom she owed
+so much, happy beyond even his fondest hope, brought smiles to her face
+as she watched the flickering blaze.
+
+"Yes," she murmured, "I can make him happier even than he dreams. I
+know him so well, his tastes, his habits, what he most enjoys, that it
+will be an easy task to anticipate his wishes and enrich his life. Then
+he has been such a faithful, devoted friend! He shall learn that his
+example had not been lost on me."
+
+At this moment the wind rose in such a long mournful, human-like sigh
+about the house that she started up and almost shuddered. When the
+evening mail came and brought no letter, she found it hard indeed not
+to yield to deep depression. In vain her father reasoned with her. "I
+know all you say sounds true to the ear," she said, "but not to my
+heart. I can't help it; but I am oppressed with a nervous dread of some
+impending trouble."
+
+They passed the early hours of the evening as best they could, seeking
+to divert each other's thoughts. It had been long since the kind old
+banker was so garrulous, and Helen resolved to reward him by keeping
+up. Indeed, she shrank from retiring, feeling that through the
+sleepless night she would be the prey of all sorts of wretched fancies.
+Never once did her wildest thoughts suggest what had happened, or warn
+her of the tempest soon to rage in her breast.
+
+Then came the late messenger with the landlord's copied note. She
+snatched it from the bearer's hand before he could ring the bell, for
+her straining ears had heard his step even on the gravel walk.
+Tremblingly she tore open, the envelope in the hall without looking at
+the address.
+
+"Mr. Jackson said how I was to give it to your father," protested the
+messenger.
+
+"Well, well," responded Mr. Kemble, perturbed and anxious, "I'm here.
+You can go unless there's an answer required.'
+
+"Wasn't told nothin' 'bout one," growled the departing errand-boy.
+
+"Give the note to me, Helen," said her father. "Why do you stare at it
+so?"
+
+She handed it to him without a word, but looked searchingly in his
+face, and so did his wife, who had joined him.
+
+"Why, this is rather strange," he said.
+
+"I think it is," added Helen, emphatically.
+
+Mrs. Kemble took the note and after a moment ejaculated: "Well, thank
+the Lord! it isn't about Hobart."
+
+"No, no," said the banker, almost irritably. "We've all worried about
+Hobart till in danger of making fools of ourselves. As if people never
+get sick and send for relatives, or as if letters were never delayed!
+Why, bless me! haven't we heard to-day that he was well? and hasn't
+Jackson, who knows more about other people's business than his own,
+been considerate enough to say that his request has nothing to do with
+Hobart? It is just as he says, some one is sick and wants to arrange
+about money matters before banking hours to-morrow. There, it isn't
+far. I'll soon be back."
+
+"Let me go with you, father," pleaded Helen. "I can stay with Mrs.
+Jackson or sit in the parlor till you are through."
+
+"Oh, no, indeed."
+
+"Papa, I AM going with you," said Helen, half-desperately. "I don't
+believe I am so troubled for nothing. Perhaps it's a merciful warning,
+and I may be of use to you."
+
+"Oh, let her go, father," said his wife. "She had better be with you
+than nervously worrying at home. I'll be better satisfied if she is
+with you."
+
+"Bundle up well, then, and come along, you silly little girl."
+
+Nichol was too agreeably occupied with his supper to miss Hobart, who
+watched in the darkened parlor for the coming of Mr. Kemble. At last he
+saw the banker passing through the light streaming from a shop-window,
+and also recognized Helen at his side. His ruse in sending a note
+purporting to come from the landlord had evidently failed; and here was
+a new complication. He was so exhausted in body and mind that he felt
+he could not meet the girl now without giving way utterly. Hastily
+returning to the room in which were Nichol and Jackson, he summoned the
+latter and said, "Unfortunately, Miss Kemble is coming with her father.
+Keep your counsel; give me a light in another private room; detain the
+young lady in the parlor, and then, bring Mr. Kemble to me."
+
+"Ah, glad to see you, Mr. Kemble," said the landlord, a moment or two
+later, with reassuring cheerfulness; "you too, Miss Helen. That's
+right, take good care of the old gentleman. Yes, we have a sick man
+here who wants to see you, sir. Miss Helen, take a seat in the parlor
+by the fire while I turn up the lamp. Guess you won't have to wait
+long."
+
+"Now, Helen," said her father, smiling at her significantly, "can you
+trust me out of your sight to go upstairs with Mr. Jackson?"
+
+Much relieved, she smiled in return and sat down to wait.
+
+"Who is this man, Jackson?" Mr. Kemble asked on the stairs.
+
+"Well, sir, he said he would explain everything."
+
+A moment later the banker needed not Martine's warning gesture
+enjoining silence, for he was speechless with astonishment.
+
+"Mr. Jackson," whispered Martine, "will you please remain in the other
+room and look after your patient?"
+
+"Hobart," faltered Mr. Kemble, "in the name of all that's strange, what
+does this mean?"
+
+"It is indeed very strange, sir. You must summon all your nerve and
+fortitude to help us through. Never before were your strength and good
+strong common-sense more needed. I've nearly reached the end of my
+endurance. Please, sir, for Helen's sake, preserve your self-control
+and the best use of all your faculties, for you must now advise. Mr.
+Kemble, Captain Nichol is alive."
+
+The banker sank into a chair and groaned. "This would have been glad
+news to me once; I suppose it should be so now. But how, how can this
+be?"
+
+"Well, sir, as you say, it should be glad news; it will be to all
+eventually. I am placed in a very hard position; but I have tried to do
+my duty, and will."
+
+"Why, Hobart, my boy, you look more worn than you did after your
+illness. Merciful Heaven! what a complication!"
+
+"A far worse one than you can even imagine. Captain Nichol wouldn't
+know you. His memory was destroyed at the time of the injury. All
+before that is gone utterly;" and Martine rapidly narrated what is
+already known to the reader, concluding, "I'm sorry Helen came with
+you, and I think you had better get her home as soon as possible. I
+could not take him to my home for several reasons, or at least I
+thought it best not to. It is my belief that the sight of Helen, the
+tones of her voice, will restore him; and I do not think it best for
+him to regain his consciousness of the past in a dwelling prepared for
+Helen's reception as my wife. Perhaps later on, too, you will
+understand why I cannot see him there. I shall need a home, a refuge
+with no such associations. Here, on this neutral ground, I thought we
+could consult, and if necessary send for his parents to-night. I would
+have telegraphed you, but the case is so complicated, so difficult.
+Helen must be gradually prepared for the part she must take. Cost me
+what it may, Nichol must have his chance. His memory may come back
+instantly and he recall everything to the moment of his injury. What
+could be more potent to effect this than the sight and voice of Helen?
+No one here except Jackson is now aware of his condition. If she can
+restore him, no one else, not even his parents, need know anything
+about it, except in a general way. It will save a world of disagreeable
+talk and distress. At any rate, this course seemed the best I could hit
+upon in my distracted condition."
+
+"Well, Hobart, my poor young friend, you have been tried as by fire,"
+said Mr. Kemble, in a voice broken by sympathy; "God help you and guide
+us all in this strange snarl! I feel that the first thing to be done is
+to get Helen home. Such tidings as yours should be broken to her in
+that refuge only."
+
+"I agree with you most emphatically, Mr. Kemble. In the seclusion of
+her own home, with none present except yourself and her mother, she
+should face this thing and nerve herself to act her part, the most
+important of all. If she cannot awaken Captain Nichol's memory, it is
+hard to say what will, or when he will be restored."
+
+"Possibly seeing me, so closely associated with her, may have the same
+effect," faltered the banker.
+
+"I doubt it; but we can try it. Don't expect me to speak while in the
+hallway. Helen, no doubt, is on the alert, and I cannot meet her
+to-night. I am just keeping up from sheer force of will. You must try
+to realize it. This discovery will change everything for me. Helen's
+old love will revive in all-absorbing power. I've faced this in
+thought, but cannot in reality NOW--I simply CANNOT. It would do no
+good. My presence would be an embarrassment to her, and I taxed beyond
+mortal endurance. You may think me weak, but I cannot help it. As soon
+as possible I must put you, and if you think best, Captain Nichol's
+father, in charge of the situation. Jackson can send for his father at
+once if you wish."
+
+"I do wish it immediately. I can't see my way through this. I would
+like Dr. Barnes' advice and presence also."
+
+"I think it would be wise, sir. The point I wish to make is that I have
+done about all that I now can in this affair. My further presence is
+only another complication. At any rate, I must have a respite--the
+privilege of going quietly to my own home as soon as possible."
+
+"Oh, Hobart, my heart aches for you; it just ACHES for you. You have
+indeed been called upon to endure a hundredfold too much in this
+strange affair. How it will all end God only knows. I understand you
+sufficiently. Leave the matter to me now. We will have Dr. Barnes and
+Mr. and Mrs. Nichol here as soon as can be. I suppose I had better see
+the captain a few moments and then take Helen home."
+
+Martine led the way into the other apartment, where Nichol, rendered
+good-natured by his supper and a cigar, was conversing sociably with
+the landlord. Mr. Kemble fairly trembled as he came forward,
+involuntarily expecting that the man so well known to him must give
+some sign of recognition.
+
+Nichol paid no heed to him. He had been too long accustomed to see
+strangers coming and going to give them either thought or attention.
+
+"I say, Hob't Ma'tine," he began, "don' yer cuss me fer eatin' all the
+supper. I 'lowed ter this Jackson, as yer call 'im, that yer'd get a
+bite somewhar else, en he 'lowed yer would."
+
+"All right, Nichol; I'm glad you had a good supper."
+
+"I say, Jackson, this Ma'tine's a cur'ous chap--mo cur'ous than I be, I
+reckon. He's been actin' cur'ous ever since he seed me in the
+horspital. It's all cur'ous. 'Fore he come, doctors en folks was trying
+ter fin' out 'bout me, en this Ma'tine 'lows he knows all 'bout me. Ef
+he wuzn't so orful glum, he'd be a good chap anuff, ef he is cur'ous.
+Hit's all a-changin' somehow, en yet' tisn't. Awhile ago nobody knowd
+'bout me, en they wuz allus a-pesterin' of me with questions. En now
+Ma'tine en you 'low you know 'bout me, yet you ast questions jes' the
+same. Like anuff this man yere," pointing with his cigar to Mr. Kemble,
+who was listening with a deeply-troubled face, "knows 'bout me too, yet
+wants to ast questions. I don' keer ef I do say it, I had better times
+with the Johnnies that call me Yankee Blank than I ever had sence.
+Well, ole duffer [to Mr. Kemble], ast away and git yer load off'n yer
+mind. I don't like glum faces roun' en folks jes' nachelly bilin' over
+with questions."
+
+"No, Captain Nichol," said the banker, gravely and sadly, "I've no
+questions to ask. Good-by for the present."
+
+Nichol nodded a careless dismissal and resumed his reminiscences with
+Jackson, whose eager curiosity and readiness to laugh were much more to
+his mind.
+
+Following the noise made by closing the door, Helen's voice rang up
+from the hall below, "Papa!"
+
+"Yes, I'm coming, dear," he tried to answer cheerily. Then he wrung
+Martine's hand and whispered, "Send for Dr. Barnes. God knows you
+should have relief. Tell Jackson also to have a carriage go for Mr.
+Nichol at once. After the doctor comes you may leave all in our hands.
+Good-by."
+
+Martine heard the rustle of a lady's dress and retired precipitately.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+"YOU CANNOT UNDERSTAND"
+
+
+With an affectation of briskness he was far from feeling, Mr. Kemble
+came down the stairs and joined his daughter in the hall. He had taken
+pains to draw his hat well over his eyes, anticipating and dreading her
+keen scrutiny, but, strange to say, his troubled demeanor passed
+unnoticed. In the interval of waiting Helen's thoughts had taken a new
+turn. "Well, papa," she began, as they passed into the street, "I am
+curious to know about the sick man. You stayed an age, but all the same
+I'm glad I came with you. Forebodings, presentiments, and all that kind
+of thing seemed absurd the moment I saw Jackson's keen, mousing little
+visage. His very voice is like a ray of garish light entering a dusky,
+haunted room. Things suggesting ghosts and hobgoblins become
+ridiculously prosaic, and you are ashamed of yourself and your fears."
+
+"Yes, yes," replied Mr. Kemble, yielding to irritation in his deep
+perplexity, "the more matter-of-fact we are the better we're off. I
+suppose the best thing to do is just to face what happens and try to be
+brave."
+
+"Well, papa, what's happened to annoy you to-night? Is this sick man
+going to make you trouble?"
+
+"Like enough. I hope not. At any rate, he has claims which I must meet."
+
+"Don't you think you can meet them?" was her next anxious query, her
+mind reverting to some financial obligation.
+
+"We'll see. You and mother'll have to help me out, I guess. I'll tell
+you both when we get home;" and his sigh was so deep as to be almost a
+groan.
+
+"Papa," said Helen, earnestly pressing his arm, "don't worry. Mamma and
+I will stand by you; so will Hobart. He is the last one in the world to
+desert one in any kind of trouble."
+
+"I know that, no one better; but I fear he'll be in deeper trouble than
+any of us. The exasperating thing is that there should be any trouble
+at all. If it had only happened before--well, well, I can't talk here
+in the street. As you say, you must stand by me, and I'll do the best I
+can by you and all concerned."
+
+"Oh, papa, there was good cause for my foreboding."
+
+"Well, yes, and no. I don't know. I'm at my wits' end. If you'll be
+brave and sensible, you can probably do more than any of us."
+
+"Papa, papa, something IS the matter with Hobart," and she drew him
+hastily into the house, which they had now reached.
+
+Mrs. Kemble met them at the door. Alarmed at her husband's troubled
+face, she exclaimed anxiously, "Who is this man? What did he want?"
+
+"Come now, mother, give me a chance to get my breath. We'll close the
+doors, sit down, and talk it all over."
+
+Mrs. Kemble and her daughter exchanged an apprehensive glance and
+followed with the air of being prepared for the worst.
+
+The banker sat down and wiped the perspiration from his brow, then
+looked dubiously at the deeply anxious faces turned toward him. "Well,"
+he said, "I'm going to tell you everything as far as I understand it.
+Now I want to see if you two can't listen calmly and quietly and not
+give way to useless feeling. There's much to be done, and you
+especially, Helen, must be in the right condition to do it."
+
+"Oh, papa, why torture me so? Something HAS happened to Hobart. I can't
+endure this suspense."
+
+"Something has happened to us all," replied her father, gravely.
+"Hobart has acted like a hero, like a saint; so must you. He is as well
+and able to go about as you are. I've seen him and talked with him."
+
+"He saw you and not me?" cried the girl, starting up.
+
+"Helen, I entreat, I command you to be composed and listen patiently.
+Don't you know him well enough to be sure he had good reasons--"
+
+"I can't imagine a reason," was the passionate reply, as she paced the
+floor. "What reason could keep me from him? Merciful Heaven! father,
+have you forgotten that I was to marry him to-day? Well," she added
+hoarsely, standing before him with hands clinched in her effort at
+self-restraint, "the reason?"
+
+"Poor fellow! poor fellow! he has not forgotten it," groaned Mr.
+Kemble. "Well, I might as well out with it. Suppose Captain Nichol was
+not killed after all?"
+
+Helen sank into a chair as if struck down as Nichol had been himself.
+"What!" she whispered; and her face was white indeed.
+
+Mrs. Kemble rushed to her husband, demanding, "Do you mean to tell us
+that Captain Nichol is alive?"
+
+"Yes; that's just the question we've got to face."
+
+"It brings up another question," replied his wife, sternly. "If he's
+been alive all this time, why did he not let us know? As far as I can
+make out, Hobart has found him in Washington--"
+
+"Helen," cried her father to the trembling girl, "for Heaven's sake, be
+calm!"
+
+"He's alive, ALIVE!" she answered, as if no other thought could exist
+in her mind. Her eyes were kindling, the color coming into her face,
+and her bosom throbbed quickly as if her heart would burst its bonds.
+Suddenly she rushed to her father, exclaiming, "He was the sick man.
+Oh, why did you not let me see him?"
+
+"Well, well!" ejaculated Mr. Kemble, "Hobart was right, poor fellow!
+Yes, Helen, Captain Nichol is the sick man, not dangerously ill,
+however. You are giving ample reason why you should not see him yet;
+and I tell you plainly you can't see him till you are just as composed
+as I am."
+
+She burst into a joyous, half-hysterical laugh as she exclaimed,
+"That's not asking much. I never saw you so moved, papa. Little wonder!
+The dead is alive again! Oh, papa, papa, you don't understand me at
+all! Could I hear such tidings composedly--I who have wept so many long
+nights and days over his death? I must give expression to overwhelming
+feeling here where it can do no harm, but if I had seen him--when I do
+see him--ah! he'll receive no harm from me."
+
+"But, Helen, think of Hobart," cried Mrs. Kemble, in sharp distress.
+
+"Mother, mother, I cannot help it. Albert is alive, ALIVE! The old
+feeling comes back like the breaking up of the fountains of the great
+deep. You cannot know, cannot understand; Hobart will. I'm sorry, SORRY
+for him; but he will understand. I thought Albert was dead; I wanted to
+make Hobart happy. He was so good and kind and deserving that I did
+love him in a sincere, quiet way, but not with my first love, not as I
+loved Albert. I thought my love was buried with him; but it has burst
+the grave as he has. Papa, papa, let me go to him, now, NOW! You say he
+is sick; it is my place to nurse him back to life. Who has a better
+right? Why do you not bring him here?"
+
+"Perhaps it will be best, since Helen feels so," said Mr. Kemble,
+looking at his wife.
+
+"Well, I don't know," she replied with a deep sigh. "We certainly don't
+wish the public to be looking on any more than we can help. He should
+be either here or at his own home."
+
+"There's more reason for what you say than you think," Mr. Kemble began.
+
+"There, papa," interrupted Helen, "I'd be more or less than human if I
+could take! this undreamed-of news quietly, I can see how perplexed and
+troubled you've been, and how you've kindly tried to prepare me for the
+tidings. You will find that I have strength of mind to meet all that is
+required of me. It is all simpler to me than to you, for in a matter of
+this kind the heart is the guide, indeed, the only guide. Think! If
+Albert had come back months ago; if Hobart had brought him back wounded
+and disabled--how would we have acted? Only our belief in his death led
+to what has happened since, and the fact of life changes everything
+back to--"
+
+"Now, Helen, stop and listen to me," said her father, firmly. "In one
+sense the crisis is over, and you've heard the news which I scarcely
+knew how to break to you. You say you will have strength of mind to
+meet what is required of you. I trust you may. But it's time you
+understood the situation as far as I do. Mother's words show she's off
+the track in her suspicion. Nichol is not to blame in any sense. He is
+deserving of all sympathy, and yet--oh, dear, it is such a
+complication!" and the old man groaned as he thought of the personality
+who best knew himself as Yankee Blank. "The fact is," he resumed to his
+breathless listeners, "Nichol is not ill at all physically. His mind is
+affected--"
+
+Mrs. Kemble sank back in her chair, and Helen uttered a cry of dismay.
+
+"Yes, his mind is affected peculiarly. He remembers nothing that
+happened before he was wounded. You must realize this, Helen; you must
+prepare yourself for it. His loss of memory is much more sad than if he
+had lost an arm or a leg. He remembers only what he has picked up since
+his injury."
+
+"Then, then, he's not insane?" gasped Helen.
+
+"No, no, I should say not," replied her father, dubiously; "yet his
+words and manner produce much the same effect as if he were--even a
+stronger effect."
+
+"Oh, this is dreadful!" cried his wife.
+
+"Dreadful indeed, but not hopeless, you know. Keep in mind doctors say
+that his memory may come back at any time; and Hobart has the belief
+that the sight and voice of Helen will bring it back."
+
+"God bless Hobart," said Helen, with a deep breath, "and God help him!
+His own love inspired that belief. He's right; I know he's right."
+
+"Well, perhaps he is. I don't know. I thought Nichol would recognize
+me; but there wasn't a sign."
+
+"Oh, papa," cried Helen, smiling through her tears, "there are some
+things which even your experience and wisdom fail in. Albert will know
+me. We have talked long enough; now let us act."
+
+"You don't realize it all yet, Helen; you can't. You must remember that
+Nichol regained consciousness in a Southern hospital. He has learned to
+talk and act very much like such soldiers as would associate with him."
+
+"The fact that he's alive and that I now may restore him is enough,
+papa."
+
+"Well, I want Dr. Barnes present when you meet him."
+
+"Certainly; at least within call."
+
+"I must stipulate too," said Mrs. Kemble. "I don't wish the coming
+scenes to take place in a hotel, and under the eyes of that gossip,
+Jackson. I don't see why Hobart took him there."
+
+"I do," said Mr. Kemble, standing up for his favorite. "Hobart has
+already endured more than mortal man ought, yet he has been most
+delicately considerate. No one but Jackson and Dr. Barnes know about
+Nichol and his condition. I have also had Nichol's father and mother
+sent for on my own responsibility, for they should take their share of
+the matter. Hobart believes that Helen can restore Nichol's memory.
+This would simplify everything and save many painful impressions. You
+see, it's such an obscure trouble, and there should be no ill-advised
+blundering in the matter. The doctors in Washington told Hobart that a
+slight shock, or the sight of an object that once had the strongest
+hold upon his thoughts--well, you understand."
+
+"Yes," said Helen, "I DO understand. Hobart is trying to give Albert
+the very best chance. Albert wrote that his last earthly thoughts would
+be of me. It is but natural that my presence should kindle those
+thoughts again. It was like Hobart, who is almost divine in his
+thoughtfulness of others, to wish to shield Albert from the eyes of
+even his own father and mother until he could know them, and know us
+all. He was only taken to the hotel that we all might understand and be
+prepared to do our part. Papa, bring Albert here and let his father and
+mother come here also. He should be sacredly shielded in his infirmity,
+and give a every chance to recover before being seen by others; and
+please, papa, exact from Jackson a solemn promise not to tattle about
+Albert."
+
+"Yes, yes; but we have first a duty to perform. Mother, please prepare
+a little lunch, and put a glass of your old currant wine on the tray.
+Hobart must not come to a cold, cheerless home. I'll go and have his
+old servant up and ready to receive him."
+
+"No, mamma, that is still my privilege," said Helen, with a rush, of
+tears. "Oh, I'm so sorry, SORRY for him! but neither he nor I can help
+or change what is, what's true."
+
+When the tray was ready, she wrote and sealed these words:
+
+"God bless you, Hobart; God reward you! You have made me feel to-night
+that earth is too poor, and only heaven rich enough to reward you.
+
+"HELEN."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+MR. KEMBLE'S APPEAL
+
+
+It often happens that the wife's disposition is an antidote to her
+husband: and this was fortunately true of Mrs. Jackson. She was neither
+curious nor gossiping, and with a quick instinct that privacy was
+desired by Martine, gave at an early hour her orders to close the house
+for the night. The few loungers, knowing that she was autocratic,
+slouched off to other resorts. The man and maids of all work were kept
+out of the way, while she and her husband waited on their unexpected
+guests. After Mr. Kemble's departure, the errand-boy was roused from
+his doze behind the stove and seat for Dr. Barnes; then Jackson wrote
+another note at Martine's dictation:
+
+"MR. WILLIAM NICHOL:
+
+"DEAR SIR--A relative of yours is sick at my house. He came on the
+evening train. You and your wife had better come at once in the
+carriage."
+
+Martine retired to the room in which he had seen Mr. Kemble, that he
+might compose himself before meeting the physician. The sound of
+Helen's voice, the mere proximity of the girl who at this hour was to
+have been his wife had not "old chaos" come again for him, were by no
+means "straws" in their final and crushing weight. Motionless, yet with
+mind verging on distraction, he sat in the cold, dimly lighted room
+until aroused by the voice of Dr. Barnes.
+
+"Why, Hobart!" cried his old friend, starting at the bloodshot eyes and
+pallid face of the young man, "what is the matter? You need me, sure
+enough, but why on earth are you shivering in this cold room at the
+hotel?"
+
+Martine again said to Jackson: "Don't leave him," and closed the door.
+Then, to the physician: "Dr. Barnes, I am ill and worn-out. I know it
+only too well. You must listen carefully while I in brief tell you why
+you were sent for; then you and others must take charge and act as you
+think best. I'm going home. I must have rest and a respite. I must be
+by myself;" and he rapidly began to sketch his experiences in
+Washington.
+
+"Hold!" said the sensible old doctor, who indulged in only a few strong
+exclamations of surprise, which did not interrupt the speaker, "hold!
+You say you left the ward to think it over, after being convinced that
+you had discovered Nichol. Did you think it over quietly?"
+
+"Quietly!" repeated Martine, with intense bitterness. "Would a man, not
+a mummy, think over such a thing quietly? Judge me as you please, but I
+was tempted as I believe never man was before. I fought the Devil till
+morning."
+
+"I thought as much," said the doctor, grasping Martine's hand, then
+slipping a finger on his pulse. "You fought on foot too, didn't you?"
+
+"Yes, I walked the streets as if demented."
+
+"Of course. That in part accounts for your exhaustion. Have you slept
+much since?"
+
+"Oh, Doctor, let me get through and go home!"
+
+"No, Hobart, you can't get through with me till I am with you. My dear
+fellow, do you think that I don't understand and sympathize with you?
+There's no reason why you should virtually risk your life for Captain
+Nichol again. Take this dose of quinine at once, and then proceed. I
+can catch on rapidly. First answer, how much have you slept since?"
+
+"The idea of sleep! You can remedy this, Doctor, after my part in this
+affair is over. I must finish now. Helen may return, and I cannot meet
+her, nor am I equal to seeing Mr. and Mrs. Nichol. My head feels queer,
+but I'll get through somehow, if the strain is not kept up too long;"
+and he finished in outline his story. In conclusion he said, "You will
+understand that you are now to have charge of Nichol. He is prepared by
+his experience to obey you, for he has always been in hospitals, where
+the surgeon's will is law. Except with physicians, he has a sort of
+rough waywardness, learned from the soldiers."
+
+"Yes, I understand sufficiently now to manage. You put him in my
+charge, then go home, and I'll visit you as soon as I can."
+
+"One word more, Doctor. As far as you think best, enjoin reticence on
+Jackson. If the sight of Helen restores Nichol, as I believe it will,
+little need ever be said about his present condition. Jackson would not
+dare to disobey a physician's injunction."
+
+"Don't you dare disobey them, either. I'll manage him too. Come."
+
+Nichol had slept a good deal during the latter part of his journey, and
+now was inclined to wakefulness--a tendency much increased by his habit
+of waiting on hospital patients at night. In the eager and curious
+Jackson he had a companion to his mind, who stimulated in him a certain
+child-like vanity.
+
+"Hello, Ma'tine," he said, "ye're gittin' tired o' me, I reckon, ye're
+off so much. I don't keer. This yere Jackson's a lively cuss, en I 'low
+we'll chin till mawnin'."
+
+"Yes, Nichol, Mr. Jackson is a good friend of yours; and here is
+another man who is more than a friend. You remember what the surgeon at
+the hospital said to you?"
+
+"I reckon," replied Nichol, anxiously. "Hain't I minded yer tetotally?"
+
+"Yes, you have done very well indeed--remarkably well, since you knew I
+was not a doctor. Now this man is a doctor--the doctor I was to bring
+you to. You won't have to mind me any more, but you must mind this man,
+Dr. Barnes, in all respects, just as you did the doctors in the
+hospitals. As long as you obey him carefully he will be very good to
+you."
+
+"Oh, I'll mind, Doctor," said Nichol, rising and assuming the
+respectful attitude of a hospital nurse. "We uns wuz soon larned that't
+wuzn't healthy to go agin the doctor. When I wuz Yankee Blank, 'fo' I
+got ter be cap'n, I forgot ter give a Johnny a doze o' med'cine, en I'm
+doggoned ef the doctor didn't mek me tek it myse'f. Gee wiz! sech a
+time ez I had! Hain't give the doctors no trouble sence."
+
+"All right, Captain Nichol," said Dr. Barnes, quietly, "I understand my
+duties, and I see that you understand yours. As you say, doctors must
+be obeyed, and I already see that you won't make me or yourself any
+trouble. Good-night, Hobart, I'm in charge now."
+
+"Good-night, Doctor. Mr. Jackson, I'm sure you will carry out Dr.
+Barnes' wishes implicitly."
+
+"Yer'd better, Jackson," said Nichol, giving him a wink. "A doctor kin
+give yer high ole jinks ef ye're not keerful."
+
+Martine now obeyed the instinct often so powerful in the human breast
+as well as in dumb animals, and sought the covert, the refuge of his
+home, caring little whether he was to live or die. When he saw the
+lighted windows of Mr. Kemble's residence, he moaned as if in physical
+pain. A sudden and immeasurable longing to see, to speak with Helen
+once before she was again irrevocably committed to Nichol, possessed
+him. He even went to her gate to carry out his impulse, then curbed
+himself and returned resolutely to his dwelling. As soon as his step
+was on the porch, the door opened and Mr. Kemble gave him the warm
+grasp of friendship. Without a word, the two men entered the
+sitting-room, sat down by the ruddy fire, and looked at each other,
+Martine with intense, questioning anxiety in his haggard face. The
+banker nodded gravely as he said, "Yes, she knows."
+
+"It's as I said it would be?" Martine added huskily, after a moment or
+two.
+
+"Well, my friend, she said you would understand her better than any one
+else. She wrote you this note."
+
+Martine's hands so trembled that he could scarcely break the seal. He
+sat looking at the tear-blurred words some little time, and grew
+evidently calmer, then faltered, "Yes, it's well to remember God at
+such a time. He has laid heavy burdens upon me. He is responsible for
+them, not I. If I break, He also will be responsible."
+
+"Hobart," said Mr. Kemble, earnestly, "you must not break under this,
+for our sake as well as your own. I have the presentiment that we shall
+all need you yet, my poor girl perhaps most of all. She doesn't, she
+can't realize it. Now, the dead is alive again. Old girlish impulses
+and feelings are asserting themselves. As is natural, she is deeply
+excited; but this tidal wave of feeling will pass, and then she will
+have to face both the past and future. I know her well enough to be
+sure she could never be happy if this thing wrecked you. And then,
+Hobart," and the old man sank his voice to a whisper, "suppose--suppose
+Nichol continues the same."
+
+"He cannot," cried Martine, almost desperately. "Oh, Mr. Kemble, don't
+suggest any hope for me. My heart tells me there is none, that there
+should not be any. No, she loved him as I have loved her from
+childhood. She is right. I do understand her so well that I know what
+the future will be."
+
+"Well," said Mr. Kemble, firmly, as he rose, "she shall never marry him
+as he is, with my consent. I don't feel your confidence about Helen's
+power to restore him. I tell you, Hobart, I'm in sore straits. Helen is
+the apple of my eye. She is the treasure of our old age. God knows I
+remember what you have done for her and for us in the past; and I feel
+that we shall need you in the future. You've become like a son to
+mother and me, and you must stand by us still. Our need will keep you
+up and rally you better than all Dr. Barnes' medicine. I know you well
+enough to know that. But take the medicine all the same; and above all
+things, don't give way to anything like recklessness and despair. As
+you say, God has imposed the burden. Let him give you the strength to
+bear it, and other people's burdens too, as you have in the past. I
+must go now. Don't fail me."
+
+Wise old Mr. Kemble had indeed proved the better physician. His
+misgivings, fears, and needs, combined with his honest affection, had
+checked the cold, bitter flood of despair which had been overwhelming
+Martine. The morbid impression that he would be only another
+complication, and of necessity an embarrassment to Helen and her
+family, was in a measure removed. Mere words of general condolence
+would not have helped him; an appeal like that to the exhausted
+soldier, and the thought that the battle for him was not yet over,
+stirred the deep springs of his nature and slowly kindled the purpose
+to rally and be ready. He rose, ate a little of the food, drank the
+wine, then looked around the beautiful apartment prepared for her who
+was to have been his wife, "I have grown weak and reckless," he said.
+"I ought to have known her well enough--I do know her so well--as to be
+sure that I would cloud her happiness if this thing destroyed me."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+"YOU MUST REMEMBER"
+
+
+Mr. And Mrs. Nichol wonderingly yet promptly complied with the request
+for their presence, meantime casting about in their minds as to the
+identity of the relative who had summoned them so unexpected. Mr.
+Kemble arrived at the hotel at about the same moment as they did, and
+Jackson was instructed to keep the carriage in waiting. "It was I who
+sent for you and your wife," said the banker. "Mr. Martine, if
+possible, would have given you cause for a great joy only; but I fear
+it must be tempered with an anxiety which I trust will not be long
+continued;" and he led the way into the parlor.
+
+"Is it--can it be about Albert?" asked Mrs. Nichols trembling, and
+sinking into a chair.
+
+"Yes, Mrs. Nichol. Try to keep your fortitude, for perhaps his welfare
+depends upon it."
+
+"Oh, God be praised! The hope of this never wholly left me, because
+they didn't find his body."
+
+Dr. Barnes came down at once, and with Mr. Kemble tried to soothe the
+strong emotions of the parents, while at the same time enlightening
+them as to their son's discovery and condition.
+
+"Well," said Mr. Nichol, in strong emphasis; "Hobart Martine is one of
+a million."
+
+"I think he ought to have brought Albert right to me first," Mrs.
+Nichol added, shaking her head and wiping her eyes. "After all, a
+mother's claim--"
+
+"My dear Mrs. Nichol," interrupted Dr. Barnes, "there was no thought of
+undervaluing your claim on the part of our friend Hobart. He has taken
+what he believed, and what physicians led him to believe, was the best
+course to restore your son. Besides, Mr. Martine is a very sick man.
+Even now he needs my attention more than Captain Nichol. You must
+realize that he was to have married Miss Kemble to-day; yet he brings
+back your son, sends for Mr. Kemble in order that his daughter, as soon
+as she can realize the strange truth, may exert her power. He himself
+has not seen the girl who was to have been his bride."
+
+"Wife, wife," said Mr. Nichol, brokingly, "no mortal man could do more
+for us than Hobart Martine, God bless him!"
+
+"Mrs. Nichol," began Mr. Kemble, "my wife and Helen both unite in the
+request that you and your husband bring your son at once to our house;
+perhaps you would rather meet him in the privacy--"
+
+"Oh, no, no!" she cried, "I cannot wait. Please do not think I am
+insensible to all this well-meant kindness; but a mother's heart cannot
+wait. He'll know ME--me who bore him and carried him on my breast."
+
+"Mrs. Nichol, you shall see him at once," said the doctor. "I hope it
+will be as you say; but I'm compelled to tell you that you may be
+disappointed. There's no certainty that this trouble will pass away at
+once under any one's influence. You and your husband come with me. Mr.
+Kemble, I will send Jackson down, and so secure the privacy which you
+would kindly provide. I will be present, for I may be needed."
+
+He led the way, the mother following with the impetuosity and abandon
+of maternal love, and the father with stronger and stranger emotions
+than he had ever known, but restrained in a manner natural to a quiet,
+reticent man. They were about to greet one on whom they had once
+centred their chief hopes and affection, yet long mourned as dead. It
+is hard to imagine the wild tumult of their feelings. Not merely by
+words, but chiefly by impulse, immediate action, could they reveal how
+profoundly they were moved.
+
+With kindly intention, as he opened the door of the apartment, the
+doctor began, "Mr. Jackson, please leave us a few--"
+
+Mrs. Nichol saw her son and rushed upon him, crying, "Albert, Albert!"
+It was enough at that moment that she recognized him; and the thought
+that he would not recognize her was banished. With an intuition of
+heart beyond all reasoning, she felt that he who had drawn his life
+from her must know her and respond to nature's first strong tie.
+
+In surprise, Nichol had risen, then was embarrassed to find an elderly
+woman sobbing on his breast and addressing him in broken, endearing
+words by a name utterly unfamiliar. He looked wonderingly at his
+father, who stood near, trembling and regarding him through tear-dimmed
+eyes with an affectionate interest, impressive even to his limited
+perceptions.
+
+"Doctor," he began over his mother's head, "what in thunder does all
+this here mean? Me 'n' Jackson was chinnin' comf't'bly, when sud'n you
+uns let loose on me two crazy old parties I never seed ner yeared on.
+Never had folks go on so 'bout me befo'. Beats even that Hob't
+Ma'tine," and he showed signs of rising irritation.
+
+"Albert, Albert!" almost shrieked Mrs. Nichol, "don't you know me--ME,
+your own mother?"
+
+"Naw."
+
+At the half-indignant, incredulous tone, yet more than all at the
+strange accent and form of this negative, the poor woman was almost
+beside herself. "Merciful God!" she cried, "this cannot be;" and she
+sank into a chair, sobbing almost hysterically.
+
+For reasons of his own, Dr. Barnes did not interfere. Nature in
+powerful manifestations was actuating the parents; and he decided, now
+that things had gone so far, to let the entire energy of uncurbed
+emotion, combined with all the mysterious affinity of the closest
+kinship, exert its influence on the clogged brain of his patient.
+
+For a few moments Mrs. Nichol was too greatly overcome to comprehend
+anything clearly; her husband, on the other hand, was simply wrought up
+to his highest capacity for action. His old instinct of authority
+returned, and he seized his son's hand and began, "Now, see here,
+Albert, you were wounded in your head--"
+
+"Yes, right yere," interrupted Nichol, pointing to his scar. "I knows
+all 'bout that, but I don't like these goin's on, ez ef I wuz a
+nachel-bawn fool, en had ter bleve all folks sez. I've been taken in
+too often. When I wuz with the Johnnies they'd say ter me, 'Yankee
+Blank, see that ar critter? That's a elephant.' When I'd call it a
+elephant, they'd larf an' larf till I flattened out one feller's nose.
+I dunno nothin' 'bout elephants; but the critter they pinted at wuz a
+cow. Then one day they set me ter scrubbin' a nigger to mek 'im white,
+en all sech doin's, till the head-doctor stopped the hull blamed
+nonsense. S'pose I be a cur'ous chap. I ain't a nachel-bawn ijit. When
+folks begin ter go on, en do en say things I kyant see through, then I
+stands off en sez, 'Lemme 'lone.' The hospital doctors wouldn't 'low
+any foolin' with me 't all."
+
+"I'm not allowing any fooling with you," said Dr. Barnes, firmly. "I
+wish you to listen to that man and woman, and believe all they say. The
+hospital doctors would give you the same orders."
+
+"All right, then," assented Nichol, with a sort of grimace of
+resignation. "Fire away, old man, an' git through with yer yarn so
+Jackson kin come back. I wish this woman wouldn't take on so. Hit makes
+me orful oncomf't'ble, doggoned ef hit don't."
+
+The rapid and peculiar utterance, the seemingly unfeeling words of his
+son, stung the father into an ecstasy of grief akin to anger. A man
+stood before him, as clearly recognized as his own image in a mirror.
+The captain was not out of his mind in any familiar sense of the word;
+he remembered distinctly what had happened for months past. He must
+recall, he must be MADE to recollect the vital truths of his life on
+which not only his happiness but that of others depended. Although
+totally ignorant of what the wisest can explain but vaguely, Mr. Nichol
+was bent on restoring his son by the sheer force of will, making him
+remember by telling him what he should and must recall. This he tried
+to do with strong, eager insistence. "Why, Albert," he urged, "I'm your
+father; and that's your mother."
+
+Nichol shook his head and looked at the doctor, who added gravely,
+"That's all true."
+
+"Yes," resumed Mr. Nichol, with an energy and earnestness of utterance
+which compelled attention. "Now listen to reason. As I was saying, you
+were wounded in the head, and you have forgotten what happened before
+you were hurt. But you must remember, you must, indeed, or you will
+break your mother's heart and mine, too."
+
+"But I tell yer, I kyant reckerlect a thing befo' I kinder waked up in
+the hospital, en the Johnnies call me Yankee Blank. I jes' wish folks
+would lemme alone on that pint. Hit allus bothers me en makes me mad.
+How kin I reckerlect when I kyant?" and he began to show signs of
+strong vexation.
+
+Dr. Barnes was about to interfere when Mrs. Nichol, who had grown
+calmer, rose, took her son's hand, and said brokenly: "Albert, look me
+in the face, your mother's face, and try, TRY with all your heart and
+soul and mind. Don't you remember ME?"
+
+It was evident that her son did try. His brow wrinkled in the perplexed
+effort, and he looked at her fixedly for a moment or more; but no
+magnetic current from his mother's hand, no suggestion of the dear
+features which had bent over him in childhood and turned toward him in
+love and pride through subsequent years found anything in his arrested
+consciousness answering to her appeal.
+
+The effort and its failure only irritated him, and he broke out: "Now
+look yere, I be as I be. What's the use of all these goin's on? Doctor,
+if you sez these folks are my father and mother, so be it. I'm learning
+somethin' new all the time. This ain't no mo' quar, I s'pose, than some
+other things. I've got to mind a doctor, for I've learned that much ef
+I hain't nuthin' else, but I want you uns to know that I won't stan' no
+mo' foolin'. Doctors don't fool me, en they've got the po'r ter mek a
+feller do ez they sez, but other folks is got ter be keerful how they
+uses me."
+
+Mrs. Nichol again sank into her chair and wept bitterly; her husband at
+last remained silent in a sort of inward, impotent rage of grief. There
+was their son, alive and in physical health, yet between him and them
+was a viewless barrier which they could not break through.
+
+The strange complications, the sad thwartings of hope which must result
+unless he was restored, began to loom already in the future.
+
+Dr. Barnes now came forward and said: "Captain Nichol, you are as you
+are at this moment, but you must know that you are not what you were
+once. We are trying to restore you to your old self. You'd be a great
+deal better off if we succeed. You must help us all you can. You must
+be patient, and try all the time to recollect. You know I am not
+deceiving you, but seeking to help you. You don't like this. That
+doesn't matter. Didn't you see doctors do many things in hospitals
+which the patients didn't like?"
+
+"I reckon," replied Nichol, growing reasonable at once when brought on
+familiar ground.
+
+"Well, you are my patient. I may have to do some disagreeable things,
+but they won't hurt you. It won't be like taking off an arm or a leg.
+You have seen that done, I suppose?"
+
+"You bet!" was the eager, proud reply. "I used to hold the fellows when
+they squirmed."
+
+"Now hold yourself. Be patient and good-natured. While we are about it,
+I want to make every appeal possible to your lost memory, and I order
+you to keep on trying to remember till I say: 'Through for the
+present.' If we succeed, you'll thank me all the days of your life.
+Anyhow, you must do as I say."
+
+"Oh, I know that."
+
+"Well, then, your name is Captain Nichol. This is Mr. Nichol, your
+father; this lady is your mother. Call them father and mother when you
+speak to them. Always speak kindly and pleasantly. They'll take you to
+a pleasant home when I'm through with you, and you must mind them.
+They'll be good to you everyway."
+
+Nichol grinned acquiescence and said: "All right, Doctor."
+
+"Now you show your good sense. We'll have you sound and happy yet." The
+doctor thought a moment and then asked: "Mr. Nichol, I suppose that
+after our visit to Mr. Kemble, you and your wife would prefer to take
+your son home with you?"
+
+"Certainly," was the prompt response.
+
+"I would advise you to do so. After our next effort, however it
+results, we all will need rest and time for thought. Captain, remain
+here a few moments with your father and mother. Listen good-naturedly
+and answer pleasantly to whatever they may say to you. I will be back
+soon."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+"I'M HELEN"
+
+
+Dr. Barnes descended the stairs to the parlor where Mr. Kemble
+impatiently awaited him. "Well?" said the banker, anxiously.
+
+"I will explain while on the way to your house. The carriage is still
+ready, I suppose?" to Jackson.
+
+"Yes," was the eager reply; "how did he take the meeting of his
+parents?"
+
+"In the main as I feared. He does not know them yet. Mr. Jackson, you
+and I are somewhat alike in one of our duties. I never talk about my
+patients. If I did, I ought to be drummed out of the town instead of
+ever being called upon again. Of course you feel that you should not
+talk about your guests. You can understand why the parties concerned in
+this matter would not wish to have it discussed in the village."
+
+"Certainly, Doctor, certainly," replied Jackson, reddening, for he knew
+something of his reputation for gossip. "This is no ordinary case."
+
+"No, it is not. Captain Nichol and his friends would never forgive any
+one who did not do right by them now. In about fifteen minutes or so I
+will return. Have the carriage wait for me at Mr. Kemble's till again
+wanted. You may go back to the captain and do your best to keep him
+wide-awake."
+
+Jackson accompanied them to the conveyance and said to the man on the
+box: "Obey all Dr. Barnes's orders."
+
+As soon as the two men were seated, the physician began: "Our first
+test has failed utterly;" and he briefly narrated what had occurred,
+concluding, "I fear your daughter will have no better success. Still,
+it is perhaps wise to do all we can, on the theory that these sudden
+shocks may start up the machinery of memory. Nichol is excited; such
+powers as he possesses are stimulated to their highest activity, and he
+is evidently making a strong effort to recall the past, I therefore now
+deem it best to increase the pressure on his brain to the utmost. If
+the obstruction does not give way, I see no other course than to employ
+the skill of experts and trust to the healing processes of time."
+
+"I am awfully perplexed, Doctor," was the reply. "You must be firm with
+me on one point, and you know your opinion will have great weight.
+Under no sentimental sense of duty, or even of affection, must Helen
+marry Nichol unless he is fully restored and given time to prove there
+is no likelihood of any return of this infirmity."
+
+"I agree with you emphatically. There is no reason for such
+self-sacrifice on your daughter's part. Nichol would not appreciate it.
+He is not an invalid; on the contrary, a strong, muscular man,
+abundantly able to take care of himself under the management of his
+family."
+
+"He has my profound sympathy," continued Mr. Kemble, "but giving that
+unstintedly is a very different thing from giving him my only child."
+
+"Certainly. Perhaps we need not say very much to Miss Helen on this
+point at present. Unless he becomes his old self she will feel that she
+has lost him more truly than if he were actually dead. The only deeply
+perplexing feature in the case is its uncertainty. He may be all right
+before morning, and he may never recall a thing that happened before
+the explosion of that shell."
+
+The carriage stopped, and Mr. Kemble hastily led the way to his
+dwelling. Helen met them at the door. "Oh, how long you have been!" she
+protested; "I've just been tortured by suspense."
+
+Dr. Barnes took her by the hand and led her to the parlor. "Miss
+Helen," he said gravely, "if you are not careful you will be another
+patient on my hands. Sad as is Captain Nichol's case, he at least obeys
+me implicitly; so must you. Your face is flushed, your pulse feverish,
+and--"
+
+"Doctor," cried the girl, "you can't touch the disease till you remove
+the cause. Why is he kept so long from me?"
+
+"Helen, child, you MUST believe that the doctor--that we all--are doing
+our best for you and Nichol," said Mr. Kemble, anxiously. "His father
+and mother came to the hotel. It was but natural that they should wish
+to see him at once. How would we feel?"
+
+"Come, Helen, dear, you must try to be more calm," urged the mother,
+gently, with her arm around her daughter's neck. "Doctor, can't you
+give her something to quiet her nerves?"
+
+"Miss Helen, like the captain, is going to do just as I say, aren't
+you? You can do more for yourself than I can do for you. Remember, you
+must act intelligently and cooperate with me. His father, and
+especially his mother, exhibited the utmost degree of emotion and made
+the strongest appeals without effect. Now we must try different
+tactics. All must be quiet and nothing occur to confuse or irritate
+him."
+
+"Ah, how little you all understand me! The moment you give me a chance
+to act I can be as calm as you are. It's this waiting, this torturing
+suspense that I cannot endure. Hobart would not have permitted it. He
+knows, he understands. Every effort will fail till Albert sees me. It
+will be a cause for lasting gratitude to us both that I should be the
+one to restore him. Now let me manage. My heart will guide me better
+than your science."
+
+"What will you do?" inquired her father, in deep solicitude.
+
+"See, here's his picture," she replied, taking it from a table
+near--"the one he gave me just before he marched away. Let him look at
+that and recall himself. Then I will enter. Oh, I've planned it all! My
+self-control will be perfect. Would I deserve the name of woman if I
+were weak or hysterical? No, I would do my best to rescue any man from
+such a misfortune, much more Albert, who has such sacred claims."
+
+"That's a good idea of yours about the photograph. Well, I guess I must
+let Nature have her own way again, only in this instance I advise quiet
+methods."
+
+"Trust me, Doctor, and you won't regret it."
+
+"Nerve yourself then to do your best, but prepare to be disappointed
+for the present. I do not and cannot share in your confidence."
+
+"Of course you cannot," she said, with a smile which illuminated her
+face into rare beauty. "Only love and faith could create my confidence."
+
+"Miss Helen," was the grave response, "would love and faith restore
+Captain Nichol's right arm if he had lost it?"
+
+"Oh, but that's different," she faltered.
+
+"I don't know whether it is or not. We are experimenting. There may be
+a physical cause obstructing memory which neither you nor any one can
+now remove. Kindness only leads me to temper your hope."
+
+"Doctor," she said half-desperately, "it is not hope; it is belief. I
+could not feel as I do if I were to be disappointed."
+
+"Ah, Miss Helen, disappointment is a very common experience. I must
+stop a moment and see one who has learned this truth pretty thoroughly.
+Then I will bring Nichol and his parents at once."
+
+Tears filled her eyes. "Yes, I know," she sighed; "my heart just bleeds
+for him, but I cannot help it. Were I not sure that Hobart understands
+me better than any one else, I should be almost distracted. This very
+thought of him nerves me. Think what he did for Albert from a hard
+sense of duty. Can I fail? Good-by, and please, PLEASE hasten."
+
+Martine rose to greet the physician with a clear eye and a resolute
+face. "Why, why!" cried Dr. Barnes, cheerily, "you look a hundred per
+cent better. That quinine--"
+
+"There, Doctor, I don't undervalue your drugs; but Mr. Kemble has been
+to see me and appealed to me for help--to still be on hand if needed.
+Come, I've had my hour for weakness. I am on the up-grade now. Tell me
+how far the affair has progressed."
+
+"Haven't time, Hobart. Since Mr. Kemble's treatment is so efficacious,
+I'll continue it. You will be needed, you will indeed, no matter how it
+all turns out. I won't abandon my drugs, either. Here, take this."
+
+Martine took the medicine as administered. "Now when you feel drowsy,
+go to sleep," added the doctor.
+
+"Tell me one thing--has she seen him yet?"
+
+"No; his father and mother have, and he does not know them. It's going
+to be a question of time, I fear."
+
+"Helen will restore him."
+
+"So she believes, or tries to. I mercifully shook her faith a little.
+Well, she feels for you, old fellow. The belief that you understand her
+better than any one has great sustaining power."
+
+"Say I won't fail her; but I entreat that you soon let me know the
+result of the meeting."
+
+"I'll come in," assented the doctor, as he hastily departed. Then he
+added sotto voce, "If you hear anything more under twelve or fifteen
+hours, I'm off my reckoning."
+
+Re-entering the carriage, he was driven rapidly to the hotel. Jackson
+had played his part, and had easily induced Nichol to recount his
+hospital experience in the presence of his parents, who listened in
+mingled wonder, grief, and impotent protest.
+
+"Captain, put on your overcoat and hat and come with me," said the
+doctor, briskly. "Your father and mother will go with us."
+
+"Good-by, Jackson," said Nichol, cordially. "Ye're a lively cuss, en I
+hopes we'll have a chaince to chin agin."
+
+With a blending of hope and of fear, his parents followed him. The
+terrible truth of his sensibility to all that he should recognize and
+remember became only the more appalling as they comprehended it. While
+it lost none of its strangeness, they were compelled to face and to
+accept it as they could not do at first.
+
+"Now, Captain," said the doctor, after they were seated in the
+carriage, "listen carefully to me. It is necessary that you recall what
+happened before you were wounded. I tell you that you must do it if you
+can, and you know doctors must be obeyed."
+
+"Look yere, Doctor, ain't I a-tryin'? but I tell yer hit's like tryin'
+ter lift myself out o' my own boots."
+
+"Mind, now, I don't say you must remember, only try your best. You can
+do that?"
+
+"I reckon."
+
+"Well, you are going to the house of an old friend who knew you well
+before you were hurt. You must pay close heed to all she says just as
+you would to me. You must not say any rude, bad words, such as soldiers
+often use, but listen to every word she says. Perhaps you'll know her
+as soon as you see her. Now I've prepared you. I won't be far off."
+
+"Don't leave me, Doctor. I jes' feels nachelly muxed up en mad when
+folks pester me 'bout what I kyant do."
+
+"You must not get angry now, I can tell you. That would never do at
+all. I FORBID it."
+
+"There, there now, Doctor, I won't, doggone me ef I will," Nichol
+protested anxiously.
+
+Mr. Kemble met them at the door, and the captain recognized him
+instantly.
+
+"Why, yere's that sensible ole feller what didn't want to ast no
+questions," he exclaimed.
+
+"You are right, Captain Nichol, I have no questions to ask."
+
+"Well, ef folks wuz all like you I'd have a comf't'ble time"
+
+"Come with me, Captain," said the physician, leading the way into the
+parlor. Mr. Kemble silently ushered Mr. and Mrs. Nichol into the
+sitting-room on the opposite side of the hall and placed them in the
+care of his wife. He then went into the back parlor in which was Helen,
+now quiet as women so often are in emergencies. Through a slight
+opening between the sliding-door she looked, with tightly clasped hands
+and parted lips, at her lover. At first she was conscious of little
+else except the overwhelming truth that before her was one she had
+believed dead. Then again surged up with blinding force the old feeling
+which had possessed her when she saw him last--when he had impressed
+his farewell kiss upon her lips. Remembering the time for her to act
+was almost at hand, she became calm--more from the womanly instinct to
+help him than from the effort of her will.
+
+Dr. Barnes said to Nichol, "Look around. Don't you think you have seen
+this room before? Take your time and try to remember."
+
+The captain did as he was bidden, but soon shook his head. "Hit's right
+purty, but I don't reckerlect."
+
+"Well, sit down here, then, and look at that picture. Who is it?"
+
+"Why, hit's me--me dressed up as cap'n," ejaculated Nichol, delightedly.
+
+"Yes, that was the way you looked and dressed before you were wounded."
+
+"How yer talk! This beats anythin' I ever yeared from the Johnnies."
+
+"Now, Captain Nichol, you see we are not deceiving you. We called you
+captain. There's your likeness, taken before you were hurt and lost
+your memory, and you can see for yourself that you were a captain. You
+must think how much there is for you to try to remember. Before you
+went to the war, long before you got hurt, you gave this likeness of
+yourself to a young lady that you thought a great deal of. Can't you
+recall something about it?"
+
+Nichol wrinkled his scarred forehead, scratched his head, and hitched
+uneasily in his chair, evidently making a vain effort to penetrate the
+gloom back of that vague awakening in the Southern hospital. At last he
+broke out in his usual irritation, "Naw, I kyant, doggon--"
+
+"Hush! you must not use that word here. Don't be discouraged. You are
+trying; that's all I ask," and the doctor laid a soothing hand on his
+shoulder. "Now, Captain, I'll just step in the next room. You think
+quietly as you can about the young lady to whom you gave that picture
+of yourself."
+
+Nichol was immensely pleased with his photograph, and looked at it in
+all its lights. While thus gratifying a sort of childish vanity, Helen
+entered noiselessly, her blue eyes, doubly luminous from the pallor of
+her face, shining like sapphires. So intent was her gaze that one might
+think it would "kindle a soul under the ribs of death."
+
+At last Nichol became conscious of her presence and started,
+exclaiming, "Why, there she is herself."
+
+"OH, Albert, you DO know me," cried the girl, rushing toward him with
+outstretched hand.
+
+He took it unhesitatingly, saying with a pleased wonder, "Well, I
+reckon I'm comin' round. Yer the young lady I give this picture to?"
+
+"I'm Helen," she breathed, with an indescribable accent of tenderness
+and gladness.
+
+"Why, cert'ny. The doctor tole me 'bout you."
+
+"But you remember me yourself?" she pleaded. "You remember what you
+said to me when you gave me this picture?" and she looked into his eyes
+with an expression which kindled even his dull senses.
+
+"Oh, shucks!" he said slowly, "I wish I could. I'd like ter 'blige yer,
+fer ye're right purty, en I am a-tryin' ter mind the doctor."
+
+Such a sigh escaped her that one might think her heart and hope were
+going with it. The supreme moment of meeting had come and gone, and he
+did not know her; she saw and felt in her inmost soul that he did not.
+The brief and illusive gleam into the past was projected only from the
+present, resulting from what he had been told, not from what he
+recalled.
+
+She withdrew her hand, turned away, and for a moment or two her form
+shook with sobs she could not wholly stifle. He looked on perplexed and
+troubled, then broke out, "I jes' feels ez ef I'd split my blamed ole
+haid open--"
+
+She checked him by a gesture. "Wait," she cried, "sit down." She took a
+chair near him and hastily wiped her eyes. "Perhaps I can help you
+remember me. You will listen closely, will you not?"
+
+"I be dog--oh, I forgot," and he looked toward the back parlor
+apprehensively. "Yes, mees, I'll do anythin' yer sez."
+
+"Well, once you were a little boy only so high, and I was a little girl
+only so high. We both lived in this village and we went to school
+together. We studied out of the same books together. At three o'clock
+in the afternoon school was out, and then we put our books in our desks
+and the teacher let us go and play. There was a pond of water, and it
+often froze over with smooth black ice. You and I used to go together
+to that pond; and you would fasten my skates on my feet--"
+
+"Hanged ef I wouldn't do it agin," he cried, greatly pleased. "Yer
+beats 'em all. Stid o' astin' questions, yer tells me all 'bout what
+happened. Why, I kin reckerlect it all ef I'm tole often anuff."
+
+With a sinking heart she faltered on, "Then you grew older and went
+away to school, and I went away to school. We had vacations; we rode on
+horseback together. Well, you grew to be as tall as you are now; and
+then came a war and you wore a captain's uniform, like--like that you
+see in your likeness, and--and--" she stopped. Her rising color became
+a vivid flush; she slowly rose as the thought burned its way into her
+consciousness that she was virtually speaking to a stranger. Her words
+were bringing no gleams of intelligence into his face; they were
+throwing no better, no stronger light upon the past than if she were
+telling the story to a great boy. Yet he was not a boy. A man's face
+was merely disfigured (to her eyes) by a grin of pleasure instead of a
+pleased smile; and a man's eyes were regarding her with an unwinking
+stare of admiration. She was not facing her old playmate, her old
+friend and lover, but a being whose only consciousness reached back but
+months, through scenes, associations coarse and vulgar like himself.
+She felt this with an intuition that was overwhelming. She could not
+utter another syllable, much less speak of the sacred love of the past.
+"O God!" she moaned in her heart, "the man has become a living grave in
+which his old self is buried. Oh, this is terrible, terrible!"
+
+As the truth grew upon her she sprang away, wringing her hands and
+looking upon him with an indescribable expression of pity and dread.
+"Oh," she now moaned aloud, "if he had only come back to me mutilated
+in body, helpless! but this change--"
+
+She fled from the room, and Nichol stared after her in perplexed
+consternation.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+"FORWARD! COMPANY A"
+
+
+When Mrs. Kemble was left alone with Captain Nichol's parents in the
+sitting-room, she told them of Helen's plan of employing the photograph
+in trying to recall their son to himself. It struck them as an
+unusually effective method. Mrs. Kemble saw that their anxiety was so
+intense that it was torture for them to remain in suspense away from
+the scene of action. It may be added that her own feelings also led her
+to go with them into the back parlor, where all that was said by Nichol
+and her daughter could be heard. Her solicitude for Helen was not less
+than theirs for their son; and she felt the girl might need both
+motherly care and counsel. She was opposed even more strenuously than
+her husband to any committal on the daughter's part to her old lover
+unless he should become beyond all doubt his former self. At best, it
+would be a heavy cross to give up Martine, who had won her entire
+affection. Helen's heart presented a problem too deep for solution.
+What would--what could--Captain Nichol be to her child in his present
+condition, should it continue?
+
+It was but natural, therefore, that she and her husband should listen
+to Helen's effort to awaken memories of the past with profound anxiety.
+How far would she go? If Nichol were able to respond with no more
+appreciative intelligence than he had thus far manifested, would a
+sentiment of pity and obligation carry her to the point of accepting
+him as he was, of devoting herself to one who, in spite of all their
+commiseration and endeavors to tolerate, might become a sort of horror
+in their household! It was with immense relief that they heard her
+falter in her story, for they quickly divined that there was nothing in
+him which responded to her effort. When they heard her rise and moan,
+"If he had only come back to me mutilated in body, helpless! but this
+change--" they believed that she was meeting the disappointment as they
+could wish.
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Nichol heard the words also, and while in a measure
+compelled to recognize their force, they conveyed a meaning hard to
+accept. The appeal upon which so much hope had been built had failed.
+In bitterness of soul, the conviction grew stronger that their once
+brave, keen-minded son would never be much better than an idiot.
+
+Then Helen appeared among them as pale, trembling, and overwhelmed as
+if she had seen a spectre. In strong reaction from her effort and
+blighted hope she was almost in a fainting condition. Her mother's arms
+received her and supported her to a lounge; Mrs. Nichol gave way to
+bitter weeping; Mr. Kemble wrung the father's hand in sympathy, and
+then at his wife's request went for restoratives. Dr. Barnes closed the
+sliding-doors and prudently reassured Nichol: "You have done your best,
+Captain, and that is all I asked of you. Remain here quietly and look
+at your picture for a little while, and then you shall have a good long
+rest."
+
+"I did try, Doctor," protested Nichol, anxiously. "Gee wiz! I reckon a
+feller orter try ter please sech a purty gyurl. She tole me lots. Look
+yere, Doctor, why kyan't I be tole over en over till I reckerlect it
+all?"
+
+"Well, we'll see, Captain. It's late now, and we must all have a rest.
+Stay here till I come for you."
+
+Nichol was so pleased with his photograph that he was well content in
+its contemplation. The physician now gave his attention to Helen, who
+was soon so far restored as to comprehend her utter failure. Her
+distress was great indeed, and for a few moments diverted the thoughts
+of even Mr. and Mrs. Nichol from their own sad share in the
+disappointment.
+
+"Oh, oh!" sobbed Helen, "this is the bitterest sorrow the war has
+brought us yet."
+
+"Well, now, friends," said Dr. Barnes, "it's time I had my say and gave
+my orders. You must remember that I have not shared very fully in your
+confidence that the captain could be restored by the appeals you have
+made; neither do I share in this abandonment to grief now. As the
+captain says, he is yet simply unable to respond. We must patiently
+wait and see what time and medical skill can do for him. There is no
+reason whatever for giving up hope. Mrs. Kemble, I would advise you to
+take Miss Helen to her room, and you, Mr. Nichol, to take your wife and
+son home. I will call in the morning, and then we can advise further."
+
+His counsel was followed, the captain readily obeying when told to go
+with his parents. Then the physician stepped over to Martine's cottage
+and found, as he supposed, that the opiate and exhausted nature had
+brought merciful oblivion.
+
+It was long before Helen slept, nor would she take anything to induce
+sleep. She soon became quiet, kissed her mother, and said she wished to
+be alone. Then she tried to look at the problem in all its aspects, and
+earnestly asked for divine guidance. The decision reached in the gray
+dawn brought repose of mind and body.
+
+It was late in the afternoon when Martine awoke with a dull pain in his
+head and heart. As the consciousness of all that had happened returned,
+he remembered that there was good reason for both. His faithful old
+domestic soon prepared a dainty meal, which aided in giving tone to his
+exhausted system. Then he sat down by his fire to brace himself for the
+tidings he expected to hear. Helen's chair was empty. It would always
+be hers, but hope was gone that she would smile from it upon him during
+the long winter evenings. Already the room was darkening toward the
+early December twilight, and he felt that his life was darkening in
+like manner. He was no longer eager to hear what had occurred. The
+mental and physical sluggishness which possessed him was better than
+sharp pain; he would learn all soon enough--the recognition, the
+beginning of a new life which inevitably would drift further and
+further from him. His best hope was to get through the time, to endure
+patiently and shape his life so as to permit as little of its shadow as
+possible to fall upon hers. But as he looked around the apartment and
+saw on every side the preparations for one who had been his, yet could
+be no longer, his fortitude gave way, and he buried his face in his
+hands.
+
+So deep was his painful revery that he did not hear the entrance of Dr.
+Barnes and Mr. Kemble. The latter laid a hand upon his shoulder and
+said kindly, "Hobart, my friend, it is just as I told you it would be.
+Helen needs you and wishes to see you."
+
+Martine started up, exclaiming, "He must have remembered her."
+
+Mr. Kemble shook his head. "No, Hobart," said the doctor, "she was as
+much of a stranger to him as you were. There were, of course, grounds
+for your expectation and hers also, but we prosaic physiologists have
+some reason for our doubtings as well as you for your beliefs. It's
+going to be a question of time with Nichol. How are you yourself? Ah, I
+see," he added, with his finger on his patient's pulse. "With you it's
+going to be a question of tonics."
+
+"Yes, I admit that," Martine replied, "but perhaps of tonics other than
+those you have in mind. You said, sir [to Mr. Kemble], that Helen
+wished to see me?"
+
+"Yes, when you feel well enough."
+
+"I trust you will make yourselves at home," said Martine, hastily
+preparing to go out.
+
+"But don't you wish to hear more about Nichol?" asked the doctor,
+laughing.
+
+"Not at present. Good-by."
+
+Yet he was perplexed how to meet the girl who should now have been his
+wife; and he trembled with strange embarrassment as he entered the
+familiar room in which he had parted from her almost on the eve of
+their wedding. She was neither perplexed nor embarrassed, for she had
+the calmness of a fixed purpose. She went swiftly to him, took his
+hand, led him to a chair, then sat down beside him. He looked at her
+wonderingly and listened sadly as she asked, "Hobart, will you be
+patient with me again?"
+
+"Yes," he replied after a moment, yet he sighed deeply in foreboding.
+
+Tears came into her eyes, yet her voice did not falter as she
+continued: "I said last night that you would understand me better than
+any one else; so I believe you will now. You will sustain and
+strengthen me in what I believe to be duty."
+
+"Yes, Helen, up to the point of such endurance as I have. One can't go
+beyond that."
+
+"No, Hobart, but you will not fail me, nor let me fail. I cannot marry
+Captain Nichol as he now is"--there was an irrepressible flash of joy
+in his dark eyes--"nor can I," she added slowly and sadly, "marry you."
+He was about to speak, but she checked him and resumed. "Listen
+patiently to me first. I have thought and thought long hours, and I
+think I am right. You, better than I, know Captain Nichol's
+condition--its sad contrast to his former noble self. The man we once
+knew is veiled, hidden, lost--how can we express it? But he exists, and
+at any time may find and reveal himself. No one, not even I, can revolt
+at what he is now as he will revolt at it all when his true
+consciousness returns. He has met with an immeasurable misfortune. He
+is infinitely worse off than if helpless--worse off than if he were
+dead, if this condition is to last; but it may not last. What would he
+think of me if I should desert him now and leave him nothing to
+remember but a condition of which he could only think with loathing? I
+will hide nothing from you, Hobart, my brave, true friend--you who have
+taught me what patience means. If you had brought him back utterly
+helpless, yet his old self in mind, I could have loved him and married
+him, and you would have sustained me in that course. Now I don't know.
+My future, in this respect, is hidden like his. The shock I received
+last night, the revulsion of feeling which followed, leaves only one
+thing clear. I must try to do what is right by him; it will not be
+easy. I hope you will understand. While I have the deepest pity that a
+woman can feel, I shrink from him NOW, for the contrast between his
+former self and his present is so terrible. Oh, it is such a horrible
+mystery! All Dr. Barnes's explanations do not make it one bit less
+mysterious and dreadful. Albert took the risk of this; he has suffered
+this for his country. I must suffer for him; I must not desert him in
+his sad extremity. I must not permit him to awake some day and learn
+from others what he now is, and that I, the woman he loved, of all
+others, left him to his degradation. The consequences might be more
+fatal than the injury which so changed him. Such action on my part
+might destroy him morally. Now his old self is buried as truly as if he
+had died. I could never look him in the face again if I left him to
+take his chances in life with no help from me, still less if I did that
+which he could scarcely forgive. He could not understand all that has
+happened since we thought him dead. He would only remember that I
+deserted him in his present pitiable plight. Do you understand me,
+Hobart?"
+
+"I must, Helen."
+
+"I know how hard it is for you. Can you think I forget this for a
+moment? Yet I send for you to help, to sustain me in a purpose which
+changes our future so greatly. Do you not remember what you said once
+about accepting the conditions of life as they are? We must do this
+again, and make the best of them."
+
+"But if--suppose his memory does not come back. Is there to be no hope?"
+
+"Hobart, you must put that thought from you as far as you can. Do you
+not see whither it might lead? You would not wish Captain Nichol to
+remain as he is?"
+
+"Oh," he cried desperately, "I'm put in a position that would tax any
+saint in the calendar."
+
+"Yes, you are. The future is not in our hands. I can only appeal to you
+to help me do what I think is right NOW."
+
+He thought a few moments, took his resolve, then gave her his hand
+silently. She understood him without a word.
+
+The news of the officer's return and of his strange condition was soon
+generally known in the village; but his parents, aided by the
+physician, quickly repressed those inclined to call from mere
+curiosity. At first Jim Wetherby scouted the idea that his old captain
+would not know him, but later had to admit the fact with a wonder which
+no explanations satisfied. Nichol immediately took a fancy to the
+one-armed veteran, who was glad to talk by the hour about soldiers and
+hospitals.
+
+Before any matured plan for treatment could be adopted Nichol became
+ill, and soon passed into the delirium of fever. "The trouble is now
+clear enough," Dr. Barnes explained. "The captain has lived in
+hospitals and breathed a tainted atmosphere so long that his system is
+poisoned. This radical change of air has developed the disease."
+
+Indeed, the typhoid symptoms progressed so rapidly as to show that the
+robust look of health had been in appearance only. The injured,
+weakened brain was the organ which suffered most, and in spite of the
+physician's best efforts his patient speedily entered into a condition
+of stupor, relieved only by low, unintelligible mutterings. Jim
+Wetherby became a tireless watcher, and greatly relieved the
+grief-stricken parents. Helen earnestly entreated that she might act
+the part of nurse also, but the doctor firmly forbade her useless
+exposure to contagion. She drove daily to the house, yet Mrs. Nichol's
+sad face and words could scarcely dissipate the girl's impression that
+the whole strange episode was a dream.
+
+At last it was feared that the end was near. One night Dr. Barnes, Mr.
+and Mrs. Nichol, and Jim Wetherby were watching in the hope of a gleam
+of intelligence. He was very low, scarcely more than breathing, and
+they dreaded lest there might be no sign before the glimmer of life
+faded out utterly.
+
+Suddenly the captain seemed to awake, his glassy eyes kindled, and a
+noble yet stern expression dignified his visage. In a thick voice he
+said, "For--" Then, as if all the remaining forces of life asserted
+themselves, he rose in his bed and exclaimed loudly, "Forward! Company
+A. Guide right. Ah!" He fell back, now dead in very truth.
+
+"Oh!" cried Jim Wetherby, excitedly, "them was the last words I heard
+from him just before the shell burst, and he looks now just as he did
+then."
+
+"Yes," said Dr. Barnes, sadly and gravely, "memory came back to him at
+the point where he lost it. He has died as we thought at first--a brave
+soldier leading a charge."
+
+The stern, grand impress of battle remained upon the officer's
+countenance. Friends and neighbors looked upon his ennobled visage with
+awe, and preserved in honored remembrance the real man that temporarily
+had been obscured. Helen's eyes, when taking her farewell look, were
+not so blinded with tears but that she recognized his restored manhood.
+Death's touch had been more potent than love's appeal.
+
+In the Wilderness, upon a day fatal to him and so many thousands,
+Captain Nichol had prophesied of the happy days of peace. They came,
+and he was not forgotten.
+
+One evening Dr. Barnes was sitting with Martine and Helen at their
+fireside. They had been talking about Nichol, and Helen remarked
+thoughtfully, "It was so very strange that he should have regained his
+memory in the way and at the time he did."
+
+"No," replied the physician, "that part of his experience does not
+strike me as so very strange. In typhoid cases a lucid interval is apt
+to precede death. His brain, like his body, was depleted, shrunken
+slightly by disease. This impoverishment probably removed the cerebral
+obstruction, and the organ of memory renewed its action at the point
+where it had been arrested. My theory explains his last ejaculation,
+'Ah!' It was his involuntary exclamation as he again heard the shell
+burst. The reproduction in his mind of this explosion killed him
+instantly after all. He was too enfeebled to bear the shock. If he had
+passed from delirium into quiet sleep--ah, well! he is dead, and that
+is all we can know with certainty."
+
+"Well," said Martine, with a deep breath, "I am glad he had every
+chance that it was possible for us to give him."
+
+"Yes, Hobart," added his wife, gently, "you did your whole duty, and I
+do not forget what it cost you."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+QUEEN OF SPADES
+
+
+"Mother," remarked Farmer Banning, discontentedly, "Susie is making a
+long visit."
+
+"She is coming home next week," said his cheery wife. She had drawn her
+low chair close to the air-tight stove, for a late March snowstorm was
+raging without.
+
+"It seems to me that I miss her more and more."
+
+"Well, I'm not jealous."
+
+"Oh, come, wife, you needn't be. The idea! But I'd be jealous if our
+little girl was sorter weaned away from us by this visit in town."
+
+"Now, see here, father, you beat all the men I ever heard of in
+scolding about farmers borrowing, and here you are borrowing trouble."
+
+"Well, I hope I won't have to pay soon. But I've been thinking that the
+old farmhouse may look small and appear lonely after her gay winter.
+When she is away, it's too big for me, and a suspicion lonely for us
+both. I've seen that you've missed her more than I have."
+
+"I guess you're right. Well, she's coming home, as I said, and we must
+make home seem home to her. The child's growing up. Why, she'll be
+eighteen week after next. You must give her something nice on her
+birthday."
+
+"I will," said the farmer, his rugged, weather-beaten face softening
+with memories. "Is our little girl as old as that? Why, only the other
+day I was carrying her on my shoulder to the barn and tossing her into
+the haymow. Sure enough, the 10th of April will be her birthday. Well,
+she shall choose her own present."
+
+On the afternoon of the 5th of April he went down the long bill to the
+station, and was almost like a lover in his eagerness to see his child.
+He had come long before the train's schedule time, but was rewarded at
+last. When Susie appeared, she gave him a kiss before every one, and a
+glad greeting which might have satisfied the most exacting of lovers.
+He watched her furtively as they rode at a smart trot up the hill.
+Farmer Banning kept no old nags for his driving, but strong, well-fed,
+spirited horses that sometimes drew a light vehicle almost by the
+reins. "Yes," he thought, "she has grown a little citified. She's
+paler, and has a certain air or style that don't seem just natural to
+the hill. Well, thank the Lord! she doesn't seem sorry to go up the
+hill once more."
+
+"There's the old place, Susie, waiting for you," he said. "It doesn't
+look so very bleak, does it, after all the fine city houses you've
+seen?"
+
+"Yes, father, it does. It never appeared so bleak before."
+
+He looked at his home, and in the late gray afternoon, saw it in a
+measure with her eyes--the long brown, bare slopes, a few gaunt old
+trees about the house, and the top boughs of the apple-orchard behind a
+sheltering hill in the rear of the dwelling.
+
+"Father," resumed the girl, "we ought to call our place the Bleak
+House. I never so realized before how bare and desolate it looks,
+standing there right in the teeth of the north wind."
+
+His countenance fell, but he had no time for comment. A moment later
+Susie was in her mother's arms. The farmer lifted the trunk to the
+horse-block and drove to the barn. "I guess it will be the old story,"
+he muttered. "Home has become 'Bleak House.' I suppose it did look
+bleak to her eyes, especially at this season. Well, well, some day
+Susie will go to the city to stay, and then it will be Bleak House sure
+enough."
+
+"Oh, father," cried his daughter when, after doing his evening work, he
+entered with the shadow of his thoughts still upon his face--"oh,
+father, mother says I can choose my birthday present!"
+
+"Yes, Sue; I've passed my word."
+
+"And so I have your bond. My present will make you open your eyes."
+
+"And pocket-book too, I suppose. I'll trust you, however, not to break
+me. What is it to be?"
+
+"I'll tell you the day before, and not till then."
+
+After supper they drew around the stove. Mrs. Banning got out her
+knitting, as usual, and prepared for city gossip. The farmer rubbed his
+hands over the general aspect of comfort, and especially over the
+regained presence of his child's bright face. "Well, Sue," he remarked,
+"you'll own that this room IN the house doesn't look very bleak?"
+
+"No, father, I'll own nothing of the kind. Your face and mother's are
+not bleak, but the room is."
+
+"Well," said the farmer, rather disconsolately, "I fear the old place
+has been spoiled for you. I was saying to mother before you came home--"
+
+"There now, father, no matter about what you were saying. Let Susie
+tell us why the room is bleak."
+
+The girl laughed softly, got up, and taking a billet of wood from the
+box, put it into the air-tight. "The stove has swallowed it just as old
+Trip did his supper. Shame! you greedy dog," she added, caressing a
+great Newfoundland that would not leave her a moment. "Why can't you
+learn to eat your meals like a gentleman?" Then to her father, "Suppose
+we could sit here and see the flames curling all over and around that
+stick. Even a camp in the woods is jolly when lighted up by a
+flickering blaze."
+
+"Oh--h!" said the farmer; "you think an open fire would take away the
+bleakness?"
+
+"Certainly. The room would be changed instantly, and mother's face
+would look young and rosy again. The blue-black of this sheet-iron
+stove makes the room look blue-black."
+
+"Open fires don't give near as much heat," said her father,
+meditatively. "They take an awful lot of wood; and wood is getting
+scarce in these parts."
+
+"I should say so! Why don't you farmers get together, appoint a
+committee to cut down every tree remaining, then make it a State-prison
+offence ever to set out another? Why, father, you cut nearly all the
+trees from your lot a few years ago and sold the wood. Now that the
+trees are growing again, you are talking of clearing up the land for
+pasture. Just think of the comfort we could get out of that wood-lot!
+What crop would pay better? All the upholsterers in the world cannot
+furnish a room as an open hardwood fire does; and all the produce of
+the farm could not buy anything else half so nice."
+
+"Say, mother," said her father, after a moment, "I guess I'll get down
+that old Franklin from the garret to-morrow and see if it can't furnish
+this room."
+
+The next morning he called rather testily to the hired man, who was
+starting up the lane with an axe, "Hiram, I've got other work for you.
+Don't cut a stick in that wood-lot unless I tell you."
+
+The evening of the 9th of April was cool but clear, and the farmer
+said, genially, "Well, Sue, prospects good for fine weather on your
+birthday. Glad of it; for I suppose you will want me to go to town with
+you for your present, whatever it is to be."
+
+"You'll own up a girl can keep a secret now, won't you?"
+
+"He'll have to own more'n that," added his wife; "he must own that an
+ole woman hasn't lost any sleep from curiosity."
+
+"How much will be left me to own to-morrow night?" said the farmer,
+dubiously. "I suppose Sue wants a watch studded with diamonds, or a new
+house, or something else that she darsn't speak of till the last
+minute, even to her mother."
+
+"Nothing of the kind. I want only all your time tomorrow, and all
+Hiram's time, after you have fed the stock."
+
+"All our time!
+
+"Yes, the entire day, in which you both are to do just what I wish. You
+are not going gallivanting to the city, but will have to work hard."
+
+"Well, I'm beat! I don't know what you want any more than I did at
+first."
+
+"Yes, you do--your time and Hiram's."
+
+"Give it up. It's hardly the season for a picnic. We might go fishing--"
+
+"We must go to bed, so as to be up early, all hands."
+
+"Oh, hold on, Sue; I do like this wood-fire. If it wouldn't make you
+vain, I'd tell you how--"
+
+"Pretty, father. Say it out."
+
+"Oh, you know it, do you? Well, how pretty you look in the firelight.
+Even mother, there, looks ten years younger. Keep your low seat, child,
+and let me look at you. So you're eighteen? My! my! how the years roll
+around! It WILL be Bleak House for mother and me, in spite of the
+wood-fire, when you leave us."
+
+"It won't be Bleak House much longer," she replied with a significant
+little nod.
+
+The next morning at an early hour the farmer said, "All ready, Sue. Our
+time is yours till night; so queen it over us." And black Hiram grinned
+acquiescence, thinking he was to have an easy time.
+
+"Queen it, did you say?" cried Sue, in great spirits. "Well, then, I
+shall be queen of spades. Get 'em, and come with me. Bring a pickaxe,
+too." She led the way to a point not far from the dwelling, and
+resumed: "A hole here, father, a hole there, Hiram, big enough for a
+small hemlock, and holes all along the northeast side of the house.
+Then lots more holes, all over the lawn, for oaks, maples, dogwood, and
+all sorts to pretty trees, especially evergreens.'
+
+"Oh, ho!" cried the farmer; "now I see the hole where the woodchuck
+went in."
+
+"But you don't see the hole where he's coming out. When that is dug,
+even the road will be lined with trees. Foolish old father! you thought
+I'd be carried away with city gewgaws, fine furniture, dresses, and all
+that sort of thing. You thought I'd be pining for what you couldn't
+afford, what wouldn't do you a particle of good, nor me either, in the
+long run. I'm going to make you set out trees enough to double the
+value of your place and take all the bleakness and bareness from this
+hillside. To-day is only the beginning. I did get some new notions in
+the city which made me discontented with my home, but they were not the
+notions you were worrying about. In the suburbs I saw that the most
+costly houses were made doubly attractive by trees and shrubbery, and I
+knew that trees would grow for us as well as for millionaires--My
+conscience! if there isn't--" and the girl frowned and bit her lips.
+
+"Is that one of the city beaux you were telling us about?" asked her
+father, sotto voce.
+
+"Yes; but I don't want any beaux around to-day. I didn't think he'd be
+so persistent." Then, conscious that she was not dressed for company,
+but for work upon which she had set her heart, she advanced and gave
+Mr. Minturn a rather cool greeting.
+
+But the persistent beau was equal to the occasion. He had endured Sue's
+absence as long as he could, then had resolved on a long day's siege,
+with a grand storming-onset late in the afternoon.
+
+"Please, Miss Banning," he began, "don't look askance at me for coming
+at this unearthly hour. I claim the sacred rites of hospitality. I'm an
+invalid. The doctor said I needed country air, or would have prescribed
+it if given a chance. You said I might come to see you some day, and by
+playing Paul Pry I found out, you remember, that this was your
+birthday, and--"
+
+"And this is my father, Mr. Minturn."
+
+Mr. Minturn shook the farmer's hand with a cordiality calculated to
+awaken suspicions of his designs in a pump, had its handle been thus
+grasped. "Mr. Banning will forgive me for appearing with the lark," he
+continued volubly, determining to break the ice. "One can't get the
+full benefit of a day in the country if he starts in the afternoon."
+
+The farmer was polite, but nothing more. If there was one thing beyond
+all others with which he could dispense, it was a beau for Sue.
+
+Sue gave her father a significant, disappointed glance, which meant, "I
+won't get my present to day"; but he turned and said to Hiram, "Dig the
+hole right there, two feet across, eighteen inches deep." Then he
+started for the house. While not ready for suitors, his impulse to
+bestow hospitality was prompt.
+
+The alert Mr. Minturn had observed the girl's glance, and knew that the
+farmer had gone to prepare his wife for a guest. He determined not to
+remain unless assured of a welcome. "Come, Miss Banning," he said, "we
+are at least friends, and should be frank. How much misunderstanding
+and trouble would often be saved if people would just speak their
+thought! This is your birthday--YOUR DAY. It should not be marred by
+any one. It would distress me keenly if I were the one to spoil it. Why
+not believe me literally and have your way absolutely about this day? I
+could come another time. Now show that a country girl, at least, can
+speak her mind."
+
+With an embarrassed little laugh she answered, "I'm half inclined to
+take you at your word; but it would look so inhospitable."
+
+"Bah for looks! The truth, please. By the way, though, you never looked
+better than in that trim blue walking-suit."
+
+"Old outgrown working-suit, you mean. How sincere you are!"
+
+"Indeed I am. Well, I'm de trop; that much is plain. You will let me
+come another day, won't you?"
+
+"Yes, and I'll be frank too and tell you about THIS day. Father's a
+busy man, and his spring work is beginning, but as my birthday-present
+he has given me all his time and all Hiram's yonder. Well, I learned in
+the city how trees improved a home; and I had planned to spend this
+long day in setting out trees--planned it ever since my return. So you
+see--"
+
+"Of course I see and approve," cried Minturn. "I know now why I had
+such a wild impulse to come out here to-day. Why, certainly. Just fancy
+me a city tramp looking for work, and not praying I won't find it,
+either. I'll work for my board. I know how to set out trees. I can
+prove it, for I planted those thrifty fellows growing about our house
+in town. Think how much more you'll accomplish, with another man to
+help--one that you can order around to your heart's content."
+
+"The idea of my putting you to work!"
+
+"A capital idea! and if a man doesn't work when a woman puts him at it
+he isn't worth the powder--I won't waste time even in original remarks.
+I'll promise you there will be double the number of trees out by night.
+Let me take your father's spade and show you how I can dig. Is this the
+place? If I don't catch up with Hiram, you may send the tramp back to
+the city." And before she could remonstrate, his coat was off and he at
+work.
+
+Laughing, yet half in doubt, she watched him. The way he made the earth
+fly was surprising. "Oh, come," she said after a few moments, "you have
+shown your goodwill. A steam-engine could not keep it up at that rate."
+
+"Perhaps not; but I can. Before you engage me, I wish you to know that
+I am equal to old Adam, and can dig."
+
+"Engage you!" she thought with a little flutter of dismay. "I could
+manage him with the help of town conventionalities; but how will it be
+here? I suppose I can keep father and Hiram within earshot, and if he
+is so bent on--well, call it a lark, since he has referred to that
+previous bird, perhaps I might as well have a lark too, seeing it's my
+birthday." Then she spoke. "Mr. Minturn!"
+
+"I'm busy."
+
+"But really--"
+
+"And truly tell me, am I catching up with Hiram?"
+
+"You'll get down so deep that you'll drop through if you're not
+careful."
+
+"There's nothing like having a man who is steady working for you. Now,
+most fellows would stop and giggle at such little amusing remarks."
+
+"You are soiling your trousers."
+
+"Yes, you're right. They ARE mine. There; isn't that a regulation hole?
+'Two feet across and eighteen deep.'"
+
+"Yah! yah!" cackled Hiram; "eighteen foot deep! Dat ud be a well."
+
+"Of course it would, and truth would lie at its bottom. Can I stay,
+Miss Banning?"
+
+"Did you ever see the like?" cried the farmer, who had appeared,
+unnoticed.
+
+"Look here, father," said the now merry girl, "perhaps I was mistaken.
+This--"
+
+"Tramp--" interjected Minturn.
+
+"Says he's looking for work and knows how to set out trees."
+
+"And will work all day for a dinner," the tramp promptly added.
+
+"If he can dig holes at that rate, Sue," said her father, catching
+their spirit, "he's worth a dinner. But you're boss to-day; I'm only
+one of the hands."
+
+"I'm only another," said Minturn, touching his hat.
+
+"Boss, am I? I'll soon find out. Mr. Minturn, come with me and don a
+pair of overalls. You shan't put me to shame, wearing that
+spick-and-span suit, neither shall you spoil it. Oh, you're in for it
+now! You might have escaped, and come another day, when I could have
+received you in state and driven you out behind father's frisky bays.
+When you return to town with blistered hands and aching bones, you will
+at least know better another time."
+
+"I don't know any better this time, and just yearn for those overalls."
+
+"To the house, then, and see mother before you become a wreck."
+
+Farmer Banning looked after him and shook his head. Hiram spoke his
+employer's thought, "Dar ar gem'lin act like he gwine ter set hisself
+out on dis farm."
+
+Sue had often said, "I can never be remarkable for anything; but I
+won't be commonplace." So she did not leave her guest in the parlor
+while she rushed off for a whispered conference with her mother. The
+well-bred simplicity of her manner, which often stopped just short of
+brusqueness, was never more apparent than now. "Mother!" she called
+from the parlor door.
+
+The old lady gave a few final directions to her maid-of-all-work, and
+then appeared.
+
+"Mother, this is Mr. Minturn, one of my city friends, of whom I have
+spoken to you. He is bent on helping me set out trees."
+
+"Yes, Mrs. Banning, so bent that your daughter found that she would
+have to employ her dog to get me off the place."
+
+Now, it had so happened that in discussing with her mother the young
+men whom she had met, Sue had said little about Mr. Minturn; but that
+little was significant to the experienced matron. Words had slipped out
+now and then which suggested that the girl did more thinking than
+talking concerning him; and she always referred to him in some light
+which she chose to regard as ridiculous, but which had not seemed in
+the least absurd to the attentive listener. When her husband,
+therefore, said that Mr. Minturn had appeared on the scene, she felt
+that an era of portentous events had begun. The trees to be set out
+would change the old place greatly, but a primeval forest shading the
+door would be as nothing compared with the vicissitude which a favored
+"beau" might produce. But mothers are more unselfish than fathers, and
+are their daughters' natural allies unless the suitor is objectionable.
+Mrs. Banning was inclined to be hospitable on general principles,
+meantime eager on her own account to see something of this man, about
+whom she had presentiments. So she said affably, "My daughter can keep
+her eye on the work which she is so interested in, and yet give you
+most of her time.--Susan, I will entertain Mr. Minturn while you change
+your dress."
+
+She glanced at her guest dubiously, receiving for the moment the
+impression that the course indicated by her mother was the correct one.
+The resolute admirer knew well what a fiasco the day would be should
+the conventionalities prevail, and so said promptly: "Mrs. Banning, I
+appreciate your kind intentions, and I hope some day you may have the
+chance to carry them out. To-day, as your husband understands, I am a
+tramp from the city looking for work. I have found it, and have been
+engaged.--Miss Banning, I shall hold you inflexibly to our agreement--a
+pair of overalls and dinner."
+
+Sue said a few words of explanation. Her mother laughed, but urged, "Do
+go and change your dress."
+
+"I protest!" cried Mr. Minturn. "The walking-suit and overalls go
+together."
+
+"Walking-suit, indeed!" repeated Sue, disdainfully. "But I shall not
+change it. I will not soften one feature of the scrape you have
+persisted in getting yourself into."
+
+"Please don't."
+
+"Mr. Minturn," said the matron, with smiling positiveness, "Susie is
+boss only out of doors; I am, in the house. There is a fresh-made cup
+of coffee and some eggs on toast in the dining-room. Having taken such
+an early start, you ought to have a lunch before being put to work."
+
+"Yes," added Sue, "and the out-door boss says you can't go to work
+until at least the coffee is sipped."
+
+"She's shrewd, isn't she, Mrs. Banning? She knows she will get twice as
+much work out of me on the strength of that coffee. Please get the
+overalls. I will not sip, but swallow the coffee, unless it's scalding,
+so that no time may be lost. Miss Banning must see all she had set her
+heart upon accomplished to-day, and a great deal more."
+
+The matron departed on her quest, and as she pulled out the overalls,
+nodded her head significantly. "Things will be serious sure enough if
+he accomplishes all he has set his heart on," she muttered. "Well, he
+doesn't seem afraid to give us a chance to see him. He certainly will
+look ridiculous in these overalls, but not much more so than Sue in
+that old dress. I do wish she would change it."
+
+The girl had considered this point, but with characteristic decision
+had thought: "No; he shall see us all on the plainest side of our life.
+He always seemed a good deal of an exquisite in town, and he lives in a
+handsome house. If to-day's experience at the old farm disgusts him, so
+be it. My dress is clean and tidy, if it is outgrown and darned; and
+mother is always neat, no matter what she wears. I'm going through the
+day just as I planned; and if he's too fine for us, now is the time to
+find it out. He may have come just for a lark, and will laugh with his
+folks to-night over the guy of a girl I appear; but I won't yield even
+to the putting of a ribbon in my hair."
+
+Mrs. Banning never permitted the serving of cold slops for coffee, and
+Mr. Minturn had to sip the generous and fragrant beverage slowly.
+Meanwhile, his thoughts were busy. "Bah! for the old saying, 'Take the
+goods the gods send,'" he mused. "Go after your goods and take your
+pick. I knew my head was level in coming out. All is just as genuine as
+I supposed it would be--simple, honest, homely. The girl isn't homely,
+though, but she's just as genuine as all the rest, in that old dress
+which fits her like a glove. No shams and disguises on this field-day
+of my life. And her mother! A glance at her comfortable amplitude
+banished my one fear. There's not a sharp angle about her. I was
+satisfied about Miss Sue, but the term 'mother-in-law' suggests vague
+terrors to any man until reassured.--Ah, Miss Banning," he said, "this
+coffee would warm the heart of an anchorite. No wonder you are inspired
+to fine things after drinking such nectar."
+
+"Yes, mother is famous for her coffee. I know that's fine, and you can
+praise it; but I'll not permit any ironical remarks concerning myself."
+
+"I wouldn't, if I were you, especially when you are mistress of the
+situation. Still, I can't help having my opinion of you. Why in the
+world didn't you choose as your present something stylish from the
+city?"
+
+"Something, I suppose you mean, in harmony with my very stylish
+surroundings and present appearance."
+
+"I didn't mean anything of the kind, and fancy you know it. Ah! here
+are the overalls. Now deeds, not words. I'll leave my coat, watch,
+cuffs, and all impedimenta with you, Mrs. Banning. Am I not a spectacle
+to men and gods?" he added, drawing up the garment, which ceased to be
+nether in that it reached almost to his shoulders.
+
+"Indeed you are," cried Sue, holding her side from laughing. Mrs.
+Banning also vainly tried to repress her hilarity over the absurd guy
+into which the nattily-dressed city man had transformed himself.
+
+"Come," he cried, "no frivolity! You shall at least say I kept my word
+about the trees to-day." And they started at once for the scene of
+action, Minturn obtaining on the way a shovel from the tool-room.
+
+"To think she's eighteen years old and got a beau!" muttered the
+farmer, as he and Hiram started two new holes. They were dug and others
+begun, yet the young people had not returned. "That's the way with
+young men nowadays--'big cry, little wool.' I thought I was going to
+have Sue around with me all day. Might as well get used to it, I
+suppose. Eighteen! Her mother's wasn't much older when--yes, hang it,
+there's always a WHEN with these likely girls. I'd just like to start
+in again on that day when I tossed her into the haymow."
+
+"What are you talking to yourself about, father?"
+
+"Oh! I thought I had seen the last of you to-day."
+
+"Perhaps you will wish you had before night."
+
+"Well, now, Sue! the idea of letting Mr. Minturn rig himself out like
+that! There's no use of scaring the crows so long before
+corn-planting." And the farmer's guffaw was quickly joined by Hiram's
+broad "Yah! yah!"
+
+She frowned a little as she said, "He doesn't look any worse than I do."
+
+"Come, Mr. Banning, Solomon in all his glory could not so take your
+daughter's eye to-day as a goodly number of trees standing where she
+wants them. I suggest that you loosen the soil with the pickaxe, then I
+can throw it out rapidly. Try it."
+
+The farmer did so, not only for Minturn, but for Hiram also. The
+lightest part of the work thus fell to him. "We'll change about," he
+said, "when you get tired."
+
+But Minturn did not get weary apparently, and under this new division
+of the toil the number of holes grew apace.
+
+"Sakes alive, Mr. Minturn!" ejaculated Mr. Banning, "one would think
+you had been brought up on a farm."
+
+"Or at ditch-digging," added the young man. "No; my profession is to
+get people into hot water and then make them pay roundly to get out.
+I'm a lawyer. Times have changed in cities. It's there you'll find
+young men with muscle, if anywhere. Put your hand here, sir, and you'll
+know whether Miss Banning made a bad bargain in hiring me for the day."
+
+"Why!" exclaimed the astonished farmer, "you have the muscle of a
+blacksmith."
+
+"Yes, sir; I could learn that trade in about a month."
+
+"You don't grow muscle like that in a law-office?"
+
+"No, indeed; nothing but bills grow there. A good fashion, if not
+abused, has come in vogue, and young men develop their bodies as well
+as brains. I belong to an athletic club in town, and could take to
+pugilism should everything else fail."
+
+"Is there any prospect of your coming to that?" Sue asked mischievously.
+
+"If we were out walking, and two or three rough fellows gave you
+impudence--" He nodded significantly.
+
+"What could you do against two or three? They'd close on you."
+
+"A fellow taught to use his hands doesn't let men close on him."
+
+"Yah, yah! reckon not," chuckled Hiram. One of the farm household had
+evidently been won.
+
+"It seems to me," remarked smiling Sue, "that I saw several young men
+in town who appeared scarcely equal to carrying their canes."
+
+"Dudes?"
+
+"That's what they are called, I believe."
+
+"They are not men. They are neither fish, flesh, nor fowl, but the
+beginning of the great downward curve of evolution. Men came up from
+monkeys, it's said, you know, but science is in despair over the final
+down-comes of dudes. They may evolute into grasshoppers."
+
+The farmer was shaken with mirth, and Sue could not help seeing that he
+was having a good time. She, however, felt that no tranquilly exciting
+day was before her, as she had anticipated. What wouldn't that muscular
+fellow attempt before night? He possessed a sort of vim and cheerful
+audacity which made her tremble, "He is too confident," she thought,
+"and needs a lesson. All this digging is like that of soldiers who soon
+mean to drop their shovels. I don't propose to be carried by storm just
+when he gets ready. He can have his lark, and that's all to-day. I want
+a good deal of time to think before I surrender to him or any one else."
+
+During the remainder of the forenoon these musings prevented the
+slightest trace of sentimentality from appearing in her face or words.
+She had to admit mentally that Minturn gave her no occasion for
+defensive tactics. He attended as strictly to business as did Hiram,
+and she was allowed to come and go at will. At first she merely
+ventured to the house, to "help mother," as she said. Then, with
+growing confidence, she went here and there to select sites for trees;
+but Minturn dug on no longer "like a steam-engine," yet in an easy,
+steady, effective way that was a continual surprise to the farmer.
+
+"Well, Sue," said her father at last, "you and mother ought to have an
+extra dinner; for Mr. Minturn certainly has earned one."
+
+"I promised him only a dinner," she replied; "nothing was said about
+its being extra."
+
+"Quantity is all I'm thinking of," said Minturn. "I have the sauce
+which will make it a feast."
+
+"Beckon it's gwine on twelve," said Hiram, cocking his eye at the sun.
+"Hadn't I better feed de critters?"
+
+"Ah, old man! own up, now; you've got a backache," said Minturn.
+
+"Dere is kin' ob a crik comin'--"
+
+"Drop work, all hands," cried Sue. "Mr. Minturn has a 'crik' also, but
+he's too proud to own it. How you'll groan for this to-morrow, sir!"
+
+"If you take that view of the case, I may be under the necessity of
+giving proof positive to the contrary by coming out to-morrow."
+
+"You're not half through yet. The hardest part is to come."
+
+"Oh, I know that," he replied; and he gave her such a humorously
+appealing glance that she turned quickly toward the house to hide a
+conscious flush.
+
+The farmer showed him to the spare-room, in which he found his
+belongings. Left to make his toilet, he muttered, "Ah, better and
+better! This is not the regulation refrigerator into which guests are
+put at farmhouses. All needed for solid comfort is here, even to a
+slight fire in the air-tight. Now, isn't that rosy old lady a jewel of
+a mother-in-law? She knows that a warm man shouldn't get chilled just
+as well as if she had studied athletics. Miss Sue, however, is a little
+chilly. She's on the fence yet. Jupiter! I AM tired. Oh, well, I don't
+believe I'll have seven years of this kind of thing. You were right,
+though, old man, if your Rachel was like mine. What's that rustle in
+the other room? She's dressing for dinner. So must I; and I'm ready for
+it. If she has romantic ideas about love and lost appetites, I'm a
+goner."
+
+When he descended to the parlor, his old stylish self again, Sue was
+there, robed in a gown which he had admired before, revealing the fact
+to her by approving glances. But now he said, "You don't look half so
+well as you did before."
+
+"I can't say that of you," she replied.
+
+"A man's looks are of no consequence."
+
+"Few men think so."
+
+"Oh, they try to please such critical eyes as I now am meeting."
+
+"And throw dust in them too sometimes."
+
+"Yes; gold dust, often. I haven't much of that."
+
+"It would be a pity to throw it away if you had."
+
+"No matter how much was thrown, I don't think it would blind you, Miss
+Banning."
+
+The dining-room door across the hall opened, and the host and hostess
+appeared. "Why, father and mother, how fine you look!"
+
+"It would be strange indeed if we did not honor this day," said Mrs.
+Banning. "I hope you have not so tired yourself, sir, that you cannot
+enjoy your dinner. I could scarcely believe my eyes as I watched you
+from the window."
+
+"I am afraid I shall astonish you still more at the table. I am simply
+ravenous."
+
+"This is your chance," cried Sue. "You are now to be paid in the coin
+you asked for."
+
+Sue did remark to herself by the time they reached dessert and coffee,
+"I need have no scruples in refusing a man with such an appetite; he
+won't pine. He is a lawyer, sure enough. He is just winning father and
+mother hand over hand."
+
+Indeed, the bosom of good Mrs. Banning must have been environed with
+steel not to have had throbs of goodwill toward one who showed such
+hearty appreciation of her capital dinner. But Sue became only the more
+resolved that she was not going to yield so readily to this muscular
+suitor who was digging and eating his way straight into the hearts of
+her ancestors, and she proposed to be unusually elusive and alert
+during the afternoon. She was a little surprised when he resumed his
+old tactics.
+
+After drinking a second cup of coffee, he rose, and said, "As an honest
+man, I have still a great deal to do after such a dinner."
+
+"Well, it has just done me good to see you," said Mrs. Banning, smiling
+genially over her old-fashioned coffee-pot. "I feel highly
+complimented."
+
+"I doubt whether I shall be equal to another such compliment before the
+next birthday. I hope, Miss Susie, you have observed my efforts to do
+honor to the occasion?"
+
+"Oh," cried the girl, "I naturally supposed you were trying to get even
+in your bargain."
+
+"I hope to be about sundown. I'll get into those overalls at once, and
+I trust you will put on your walking-suit."
+
+"Yes, it will be a walking-suit for a short time. We must walk to the
+wood-lot for the trees, unless you prefer to ride.--Father, please tell
+Hiram to get the two-horse wagon ready."
+
+When the old people were left alone, the farmer said, "Well, mother,
+Sue HAS got a suitor, and if he don't suit her--" And then his wit gave
+out.
+
+"There, father, I never thought you'd come to that. It's well she has,
+for you will soon have to be taken care of."
+
+"He's got the muscle to do it. He shall have my law-business, anyway."
+
+"Thank the Lord, it isn't much; but that's not saying he shall have
+Sue."
+
+"Why, what have you against him?"
+
+"Nothing so far. I was only finding out if you had anything against
+him."
+
+"Lawyers, indeed! What would become of the men if women turned lawyers.
+Do you think Sue--"
+
+"Hush!"
+
+They all laughed till the tears came when Minturn again appeared
+dressed for work; but he nonchalantly lighted a cigar and was entirely
+at his ease.
+
+Sue was armed with thick gloves and a pair of pruning-nippers. Minturn
+threw a spade and pickaxe on his shoulder, and Mr. Banning, whom Sue
+had warned threateningly "never to be far away," tramped at their side
+as they went up the lane. Apparently there was no need of such
+precaution, for the young man seemed wholly bent on getting up the
+trees, most of which she had selected and marked during recent rambles.
+She helped now vigorously, pulling on the young saplings as they
+loosened the roots, then trimming them into shape. More than once,
+however, she detected glances, and his thoughts were more flattering
+than she imagined. "What vigor she has in that supple, rounded form!
+Her very touch ought to put life into these trees; I know it would into
+me. How young she looks in that comical old dress which barely reaches
+her ankles! Yes, Hal Minturn; and remember, that trim little ankle can
+put a firm foot down for or against you--so no blundering."
+
+He began to be doubtful whether he would make his grand attack that
+day, and finally decided against it, unless a very favorable
+opportunity occurred, until her plan of birthday-work had been carried
+out and he had fulfilled the obligation into which he had entered in
+the morning. He labored on manfully, seconding all her wishes, and
+taking much pains to get the young trees up with an abundance of
+fibrous roots. At last his assiduity induced her to relent a little,
+and she smiled sympathetically as she remarked, "I hope you are
+enjoying yourself. Well, never mind; some other day you will fare
+better."
+
+"Why should I not enjoy myself?" he asked in well-feigned surprise.
+"What condition of a good time is absent? Even an April day has
+forgotten to be moody, and we are having unclouded, genial sunshine.
+The air is delicious with springtime fragrance. Were ever hemlocks so
+aromatic as these young fellows? They come out of the ground so readily
+that one would think them aware of their proud destiny. Of course I'm
+enjoying myself. Even the robins and sparrows know it, and are singing
+as if possessed."
+
+"Hadn't you better give up your law-office and turn farmer?"
+
+"This isn't farming. This is embroidery-work."
+
+"Well, if all these trees grow they will embroider the old place, won't
+they?"
+
+"They'll grow, every mother's son of 'em."
+
+"What makes you so confident?"
+
+"I'm not confident. That's where you are mistaken." And he gave her
+such a direct, keen look that she suddenly found something to do
+elsewhere.
+
+"I declare!" she exclaimed mentally, "he seems to read my very
+thoughts."
+
+At last the wagon was loaded with trees enough to occupy the holes
+which had been dug, and they started for the vicinity of the farmhouse
+again. Mr. Banning had no match-making proclivities where Sue was
+concerned, as may be well understood, and had never been far off.
+Minturn, however, had appeared so single-minded in his work, so
+innocent of all designs upon his daughter, that the old man began to
+think that this day's performance was only a tentative and preliminary
+skirmish, and that if there were danger it lurked in the unknown
+future. He was therefore inclined to be less vigilant, reasoning
+philosophically, "I suppose it's got to come some time or other. It
+looks as if Sue might go a good deal further than this young man and
+fare worse. But then she's only eighteen, and he knows it. I guess he's
+got sense enough not to plant his corn till the sun's higher. He can
+see with half an eye that my little girl isn't ready to drop, like an
+over-ripe apple." Thus mixing metaphors and many thoughts, he hurried
+ahead to open the gate for Hiram.
+
+"I'm in for it now," thought Sue, and she instinctively assumed an
+indifferent expression and talked volubly of trees.
+
+"Yes, Miss Banning," he said formally, "by the time your hair is tinged
+with gray the results of this day's labor will be seen far and wide. No
+passenger in the cars, no traveller in the valley, but will turn his
+eyes admiringly in this direction."
+
+"I wasn't thinking of travellers," she answered, "but of making an
+attractive home in which I can grow old contentedly. Some day when you
+have become a gray-haired and very dignified judge you may come out and
+dine with us again. You can then smoke your cigar under a tree which
+you helped to plant."
+
+"Certainly, Miss Banning. With such a prospect, how could you doubt
+that I was enjoying myself? What suggested the judge? My present
+appearance?"
+
+The incongruity of the idea with his absurd aspect and a certain degree
+of nervousness set her off again, and she startled the robins by a
+laugh as loud and clear as their wild notes.
+
+"I don't care," she cried. "I've had a jolly birthday, and am
+accomplishing all on which I had set my heart."
+
+"Yes, and a great deal more, Miss Banning," he replied with a formal
+bow. "In all your scheming you hadn't set your heart on my coming out
+and--does modesty permit me to say it?--helping a little."
+
+"Now, you HAVE helped wonderfully, and you must not think I don't
+appreciate it."
+
+"Ah, how richly I am rewarded!"
+
+She looked at him with a laughing and perplexed little frown, but only
+said, "No irony, sir."
+
+By this time they had joined her father and begun to set out the row of
+hemlocks. To her surprise, Sue had found herself a little disappointed
+that he had not availed himself of his one opportunity to be at least
+"a bit friendly" as she phrased it. It was mortifying to a girl to be
+expecting "something awkward to meet" and nothing of the kind take
+place. "After all," she thought, "perhaps he came out just for a lark,
+or, worse still, is amusing himself at my expense; or he may have come
+on an exploring expedition and plain old father and mother, and the
+plain little farmhouse, have satisfied him. Well, the dinner wasn't
+very plain, but he may have been laughing in his sleeve at our lack of
+style in serving it. Then this old dress! I probably appear to him a
+perfect guy." And she began to hate it, and devoted it to the rag-bag
+the moment she could get it off.
+
+This line of thought, once begun, seemed so rational that she wondered
+it had not occurred to her before. "The idea of my being so
+ridiculously on the defensive!" she thought. "No, it wasn't ridiculous
+either, as far as my action went, for he can never say I ACTED as if I
+wanted him to speak. My conceit in expecting him to speak the moment he
+got a chance WAS absurd. He has begun to be very polite and formal.
+That's always the way with men when they want to back out of anything.
+He came out to look us over, and me in particular; he made himself into
+a scarecrow just because I looked like one, and now will go home and
+laugh it all over with his city friends. Oh, why did he come and spoil
+my day? Even he said it WAS my day, and he has done a mean thing in
+spoiling it. Well, he may not carry as much self-complacency back to
+town as he thinks he will. Such a cold-blooded spirit, too!--to come
+upon us unawares in order to spy out everything, for fear he might get
+taken in! You were very attentive and flattering in the city, sir, but
+now you are disenchanted. Well, so am I."
+
+Under the influence of this train of thought she grew more and more
+silent. The sun was sinking westward in undimmed splendor, but her face
+was clouded. The air was sweet, balmy, well adapted to sentiment and
+the setting out of trees, but she was growing frosty.
+
+"Hiram," she said shortly, "you've got that oak crooked; let me hold
+it." And thereafter she held the trees for the old colored man as he
+filled in the earth around them.
+
+Minturn appeared as oblivious as he was keenly observant. At first the
+change in Sue puzzled and discouraged him; then, as his acute mind
+sought her motives, a rosy light began to dawn upon him. "I may be
+wrong," he thought, "but I'll take my chances in acting as if I were
+right before I go home."
+
+At last Hiram said: "Reckon I'll have to feed de critters again;" and
+he slouched off.
+
+Sue nipped at the young trees further and further away from the young
+man who must "play spy before being lover." The spy helped Mr. Banning
+set out the last tree. Meantime, the complacent farmer had mused: "The
+little girl's safe for another while, anyhow. Never saw her more
+offish; but things looked squally about dinner-time. Then, she's only
+eighteen; time enough years hence." At last he said affably, "I'll go
+in and hasten supper, for you've earned it if ever a man did, Mr.
+Minturn. Then I'll drive you down to the evening train." And he hurried
+away.
+
+Sue's back was toward them, and she did not hear Minturn's step until
+he was close beside her. "All through," he said; "every tree out. I
+congratulate you; for rarely in this vale of tears are plans and hopes
+crowned with better success."
+
+"Oh, yes," she hastened to reply; "I am more than satisfied. I hope
+that you are too."
+
+"I have no reason to complain," he said. "You have stood by your
+morning's bargain, as I have tried to."
+
+"It was your own fault, Mr. Minturn, that it was so one-sided. But I've
+no doubt you enjoy spicing your city life with a little lark in the
+country."
+
+"It WAS a one-sided bargain, and I have had the best of it."
+
+"Perhaps you have," she admitted. "I think supper will be ready by the
+time we are ready for it." And she turned toward the house. Then she
+added, "You must be weary and anxious to get away."
+
+"You were right; my bones DO ache. And look at my hands. I know you'll
+say they need washing; but count the blisters."
+
+"I also said, Mr. Minturn, that you would know better next time. So you
+see I was right then and am right now."
+
+"Are you perfectly sure?"
+
+"I see no reason to think otherwise." In turning, she had faced a young
+sugar-maple which he had aided her in planting early in the afternoon.
+Now she snipped at it nervously with her pruning-shears, for he would
+not budge, and she felt it scarcely polite to leave him.
+
+"Well," he resumed, after an instant, "it has a good look, hasn't it,
+for a man to fulfil an obligation literally?"
+
+"Certainly, Mr. Minturn," and there was a tremor in her tone; "but you
+have done a hundred-fold more than I expected, and never were under any
+obligations."
+
+"Then I am free to begin again?"
+
+"You are as free now as you have been all day to do what you please."
+And her shears were closing on the main stem of the maple. He caught
+and stayed her hand. "I don't care!" she cried almost passionately.
+"Come, let us go in and end this foolish talk."
+
+"But I do care," he replied, taking the shears from her, yet retaining
+her hand in his strong grasp. "I helped you plant this tree, and
+whenever you see it, whenever you care for it, when, in time, you sit
+under its shade or wonder at its autumn hues, I wish you to remember
+that I told you of my love beside it. Dear little girl, do you think I
+am such a blind fool that I could spend this long day with you at your
+home and not feel sorry that I must ever go away? If I could, my very
+touch should turn the sap of this maple into vinegar. To-day I've only
+tried to show how I can work for you. I am eager to begin again, and
+for life."
+
+At first Sue had tried to withdraw her hand, but its tenseness relaxed.
+As he spoke, she turned her averted face slowly toward him, and the
+rays of the setting sun flashed a deeper crimson into her cheeks. Her
+honest eyes looked into his and were satisfied. Then she suddenly
+gathered the young tree against her heart and kissed the stem she had
+so nearly severed. "This maple is witness to what you've said," she
+faltered. "Ah! but it will be a sugar-maple in truth; and if petting
+will make it live--there, now! behave! The idea! right out on this bare
+lawn! You must wait till the screening evergreens grow before--Oh, you
+audacious--I haven't promised anything."
+
+"I promise everything. I'm engaged, and only taking my retaining-fees."
+
+"Mother," cried Farmer Banning at the dining-room window, "just look
+yonder!"
+
+"And do you mean to say, John Banning, that you didn't expect it?"
+
+"Why, Sue was growing more and more offish."
+
+"Of course! Don't you remember?"
+
+"Oh, this unlucky birthday! As if trees could take Sue's place!"
+
+"Yah!" chuckled Hiram from the barn door, "I knowed dat ar gem'lin was
+a-diggin' a hole fer hisself on dis farm."
+
+"Mr. Minturn--" Sue began as they came toward the house arm in arm.
+
+"Hal--" he interrupted.
+
+"Well, then, Mr. Hal, you must promise me one thing in dead earnest.
+I'm the only chick father and mother have. You must be very considerate
+of them, and let me give them as much of my time as I can. This is all
+that I stipulate; but this I do."
+
+"Sue," he said in mock solemnity, "the prospects are that you'll be a
+widow."
+
+"Why do you make such an absurd remark?"
+
+"Because you have struck amidships the commandment with the promise,
+and your days will be long in the land. You'll outlive everybody."
+
+"This will be no joke for father and mother."
+
+So it would appear. They sat in the parlor as if waiting for the world
+to come to an end--as indeed it had, one phase of it, to them. Their
+little girl, in a sense, was theirs no longer.
+
+"Father, mother," said Sue, demurely, "I must break some news to you."
+
+"It's broken already," began Mrs. Banning, putting her handkerchief to
+her eyes.
+
+Sue's glance renewed her reproaches for the scene on the lawn; but
+Minturn went promptly forward, and throwing his arm around the matron's
+plump shoulders, gave his first filial kiss.
+
+"Come, mother," he said, "Sue has thought of you both; and I've given
+her a big promise that I won't take any more of her away than I can
+help. And you, sir," wringing the farmer's hand, "will often see a city
+tramp here who will be glad to work for his dinner. These overalls are
+my witness."
+
+Then they became conscious of his absurd figure, and the scene ended in
+laughter that was near akin to tears.
+
+The maple lived, you may rest assured; and Sue's children said there
+never was such sugar as the sap of that tree yielded.
+
+All the hemlocks, oaks, and dogwood thrived as if conscious that theirs
+had been no ordinary transplanting; while Minturn's half-jesting
+prophecy concerning the travellers in the valley was amply fulfilled.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+AN UNEXPECTED RESULT
+
+
+"Jack, she played with me deliberately, heartlessly. I can never
+forgive her."
+
+"In that case, Will, I congratulate you. Such a girl isn't worth a
+second thought, and you've made a happy escape."
+
+"No congratulations, if you please. You can talk coolly, because in
+regard to such matters you are cool, and, I may add, a trifle cold.
+Ambition is your mistress, and a musty law-book has more attractions
+for you than any woman living. I'm not so tempered. I am subject to the
+general law of nature, and a woman's love and sympathy are essential to
+success in my life and work."
+
+"That's all right; but there are as good fish--"
+
+"Oh, have done with your trite nonsense," interrupted Will Munson,
+impatiently. "I'd consult you on a point of law in preference to most
+of the gray-beards, but I was a fool to speak of this affair. And yet
+as my most intimate friend--"
+
+"Come, Will, I'm not unfeeling;" and John Ackland rose and put his hand
+on his friend's shoulder. "I admit that the subject is remote from my
+line of thought and wholly beyond my experience. If the affair is so
+serious I shall take it to heart."
+
+"Serious! Is it a slight thing to be crippled for life?"
+
+"Oh, come, now," said Ackland, giving his friend a hearty and
+encouraging thump, "you are sound in mind and limb; what matters a
+scratch on the heart to a man not twenty-five?"
+
+"Very well; I'll say no more about it. When I need a lawyer I'll come
+to you. Good-by; I sail for Brazil in the morning."
+
+"Will, sit down and look me in the eyes," said Ackland, decisively.
+"Will, forgive me. You are in trouble. A man's eyes usually tell me
+more than all his words, and I don't like the expression of yours.
+There is yellow fever in Brazil."
+
+"I know it," was the careless reply.
+
+"What excuse have you for going?"
+
+"Business complications have arisen there, and I promptly volunteered
+to go. My employers were kind enough to hesitate and warn me, and to
+say that they could send a man less valuable to them, but I soon
+overcame their objections."
+
+"That is your excuse for going. The reason I see in your eyes. You are
+reckless, Will."
+
+"I have reason to be."
+
+"I can't agree with you, but I feel for you all the same. Tell me all
+about it, for this is sad news to me. I had hoped to join you on the
+beach in a few days, and to spend August with you and my cousin. I
+confess I am beginning to feel exceedingly vindictive toward this
+pretty little monster, and if any harm comes to you I shall be savage
+enough to scalp her."
+
+"The harm has come already, Jack. I'm hit hard. She showed me a mirage
+of happiness that has made my present world a desert. I am reckless;
+I'm desperate. You may think it is weak and unmanly, but you don't know
+anything about it. Time or the fever may cure me, but now I am bankrupt
+in all that gives value to life. A woman with an art so consummate that
+it seemed artless, deliberately evoked the best there was in me, then
+threw it away as indifferently as a cast-off glove."
+
+"Tell me how it came about."
+
+"How can I tell you? How can I in cold blood recall glances, words,
+intonations, the pressure of a hand that seemed alive with reciprocal
+feeling? In addition to her beauty she had the irresistible charm of
+fascination. I was wary at first, but she angled for me with a skill
+that would have disarmed any man who did not believe in the inherent
+falseness of woman. The children in the house idolized her, and I have
+great faith in a child's intuitions."
+
+"Oh, that was only a part of her guile," said Ackland, frowningly.
+
+"Probably; at any rate she has taken all the color and zest out of my
+life. I wish some one could pay her back in her own coin. I don't
+suppose she has a heart; but I wish her vanity might be wounded in a
+way that would teach her a lesson never to be forgotten."
+
+"It certainly would be a well-deserved retribution," said Ackland,
+musingly.
+
+"Jack, you are the one, of all the world, to administer the punishment.
+I don't believe a woman's smiles ever quickened your pulse one beat."
+
+"You are right, Will, it is my cold-bloodedness--to put your thought in
+plain English--that will prove your best ally."
+
+"I only hope that I am not leading you into danger. You will need an
+Indian's stoicism."
+
+"Bah! I may fail ignominiously, and find her vanity invulnerable, but I
+pledge you my word that I will avenge you if it be within the compass
+of my skill. My cousin, Mrs. Alston, may prove a useful ally. I think
+you wrote me that the name of this siren was Eva Van Tyne?"
+
+"Yes; I only wish she had the rudiments of a heart, so that she might
+feel in a faint, far-off way a little of the pain she has inflicted on
+me. Don't let her make you falter or grow remorseful, Jack. Remember
+that you have given a pledge to one who may be dead before you can
+fulfil it."
+
+Ackland said farewell to his friend with the fear that he might never
+see him again, and a few days later found himself at a New England
+seaside resort, with a relentless purpose lurking in his dark eyes.
+Mrs. Alston did unconsciously prove a useful ally, for her wealth and
+elegance gave her unusual prestige in the house, and in joining her
+party Ackland achieved immediately all the social recognition he
+desired.
+
+While strolling with this lady on the piazza he observed the object of
+his quest, and was at once compelled to make more allowance than he had
+done hitherto for his friend's discomfiture. Two or three children were
+leaning over the young girl's chair, and she was amusing them by some
+clever caricatures. She was not so interested, however, but that she
+soon noted the new-comer, and bestowed upon him from time to time
+curious and furtive glances. That these were not returned seemed to
+occasion her some surprise, for she was not accustomed to be so utterly
+ignored, even by a stranger. A little later Ackland saw her consulting
+the hotel register.
+
+"I have at least awakened her curiosity," he thought.
+
+"I've been waiting for you to ask me who that pretty girl is," said
+Mrs. Alton, laughing; "you do indeed exceed all men in indifference to
+women."
+
+"I know all about that girl," was the grim reply. "She has played the
+very deuce with my friend Munson."
+
+"Yes," replied Mrs. Alston, indignantly, "it was the most shameful
+piece of coquetry I ever saw. She is a puzzle to me. To the children
+and the old people in the house she is consideration and kindness
+itself; but she appears to regard men of your years as legitimate game
+and is perfectly remorseless. So beware! She is dangerous, invulnerable
+as you imagine yourself to be. She will practice her wiles upon you if
+you give her half a chance, and her art has much more than her pretty
+face to enforce it. She is unusually clever."
+
+Ackland's slight shrug was so contemptuous that his cousin was nettled,
+and she thought, "I wish the girl could disturb his complacent
+equanimity just a little. It vexes one to see a man so indifferent;
+it's a slight to woman;" and she determined to give Miss Van Tyne the
+vantage-ground of an introduction at the first opportunity.
+
+And this occurred before the evening was over. To her surprise Ackland
+entered into an extended conversation with the enemy. "Well," she
+thought, "if he begins in this style there will soon be another victim.
+Miss Van Tyne can talk to as bright a man as he is and hold her own.
+Meanwhile she will assail him in a hundred covert ways. Out of regard
+for his friend he should have shown some disapproval of her; but there
+he sits quietly talking in the publicity of the parlor."
+
+"Mrs. Alston," said a friend at her elbow, "you ought to forewarn your
+cousin and tell him of Mr. Munson's fate."
+
+"He knows all about Mr. Munson," was her reply. "Indeed, the latter is
+his most intimate friend. I suppose my cousin is indulging in a little
+natural curiosity concerning this destroyer of masculine peace, and if
+ever a man could do so in safety he can."
+
+"Why so?"
+
+"Well, I never knew so unsusceptible a man. With the exception of a few
+of his relatives, he has never cared for ladies' society."
+
+Mrs. Alston was far astray in supposing that curiosity was Ackland's
+motive in his rather prolonged conversation with Miss Van Tyne. It was
+simply part of his tactics, for he proposed to waste no time in
+skirmishing or in guarded and gradual approaches. He would cross
+weapons at once, and secure his object by a sharp and aggressive
+campaign. His object was to obtain immediately some idea of the calibre
+of the girl's mind, and in this respect he was agreeably surprised, for
+while giving little evidence of thorough education, she was unusually
+intelligent and exceedingly quick in her perceptions. He soon learned
+also that she was gifted with more than woman's customary intuition,
+that she was watching his face closely for meanings that he might not
+choose to express in words or else to conceal by his language. While he
+feared that his task would be far more difficult than he expected, and
+that he would have to be extremely guarded in order not to reveal his
+design, he was glad to learn that the foe was worthy of his steel.
+Meanwhile her ability and self-reliance banished all compunction. He
+had no scruples in humbling the pride of a woman who was at once so
+proud, so heartless, and so clever. Nor would the effort be wearisome,
+for she had proved herself both amusing and interesting. He might enjoy
+it quite as much as an intricate law case.
+
+Even prejudiced Ackland, as he saw her occasionally on the following
+day, was compelled to admit that she was more than pretty. Her features
+were neither regular nor faultless. Her mouth was too large to be
+perfect, and her nose was not Grecian; but her eyes were peculiarly
+fine and illumined her face, whose chief charm lay in its power of
+expression. If she chose, almost all her thoughts and feelings could
+find their reflex there. The trouble was that she could as readily mask
+her thought and express what she did not feel. Her eyes were of the
+darkest blue and her hair seemed light in contrast. It was evident that
+she had studied grace so thoroughly that her manner and carriage
+appeared unstudied and natural. She never seemed self-conscious, and
+yet no one had ever seen her in an ungainly posture or had known her to
+make an awkward gesture. This grace, however, like a finished style in
+writing, was tinged so strongly with her own individuality that it
+appeared original as compared with the fashionable monotony which
+characterized the manners of so many of her age. She could not have
+been much more than twenty; and yet, as Mrs. Alston took pains to
+inform her cousin, she had long been in society, adding, "Its homage is
+her breath of life, and from all I hear your friend Munson has had many
+predecessors. Be on your guard."
+
+"Your solicitude in my behalf is quite touching," he replied. "Who is
+this fair buccaneer that has made so many wrecks and exacts so heavy a
+revenue from society? Who has the care of her and what are her
+antecedents?"
+
+"She is an orphan, and possessed, I am told, of considerable property
+in her own name. A forceless, nerveless maiden aunt is about the only
+antecedent we see much of. Her guardian has been here once or twice,
+but practically she is independent."
+
+Miss Van Tyne's efforts to learn something concerning Ackland were
+apparently quite as casual and indifferent and yet were made with
+utmost skill. She knew that Mrs. Alston's friend was something of a
+gossip; and she led her to speak of the subject of her thoughts with an
+indirect finesse that would have amused the young man exceedingly could
+he have been an unobserved witness. When she learned that he was Mr.
+Munson's intimate friend and that he was aware of her treatment of the
+latter, she was somewhat disconcerted. One so forewarned might not
+become an easy prey. But the additional fact that he was almost a
+woman-hater put her upon her mettle at once, and she felt that here was
+a chance for a conquest such as she had never made before. She now
+believed that she had discovered the key to his indifference. He was
+ready enough to amuse himself with her as a clever woman, but knew her
+too well to bestow upon her even a friendly thought.
+
+"If I can bring him to my feet it will be a triumph indeed," she
+murmured exultantly; "and at my feet he shall be if he gives me half a
+chance." Seemingly he gave her every chance that she could desire, and
+while he scarcely made any effort to seek her society, she noted with
+secret satisfaction that he often appeared as if accidentally near her,
+and that he ever made it the easiest and most natural thing in the
+world for her to join him. His conversation was often as gay and
+unconventional as she could wish; but she seldom failed to detect in it
+an uncomfortable element of satire and irony. He always left her
+dissatisfied with herself and with a depressing consciousness that she
+had made no impression upon him.
+
+His conquest grew into an absorbing desire; and she unobtrusively
+brought to bear upon him every art and fascination that she possessed.
+Her toilets were as exquisite as they were simple. The children were
+made to idolize her more than ever; but Ackland was candid enough to
+admit that this was not all guile on her part, for she was evidently in
+sympathy with the little people, who can rarely be imposed upon by any
+amount of false interest. Indeed, he saw no reason to doubt that she
+abounded in good-nature toward all except the natural objects of her
+ruling passion; but the very skill and deliberateness with which she
+sought to gratify this passion greatly increased his vindictive
+feeling. He saw how naturally and completely his friend had been
+deceived and how exquisite must have been the hopes and anticipations
+so falsely raised. Therefore he smiled more grimly at the close of each
+succeeding day, and was more than ever bent upon the accomplishment of
+his purpose.
+
+At length Miss Van Tyne changed her tactics and grew quite oblivious to
+Ackland's presence in the house; but she found him apparently too
+indifferent to observe the fact. She then permitted one of her several
+admirers to become devoted; Ackland did not offer the protest of even a
+glance. He stood, as it were, just where she had left him, ready for an
+occasional chat, stroll, or excursion, if the affair came about
+naturally and without much effort on his part. She found that she could
+neither induce him to seek her nor annoy him by an indifference which
+she meant should be more marked than his own.
+
+Some little time after there came a windy day when the surf was so
+heavy that there were but few bathers. Ackland was a good swimmer, and
+took his plunge as usual. He was leaving the water when Miss Van Tyne
+ran down the beach and was about to dart through the breakers in her
+wonted fearless style.
+
+"Be careful," he said to her; "the undertow is strong, and the man who
+has charge of the bathing is ill and not here. The tide is changing--in
+fact, running out already, I believe." But she would not even look at
+him, much less answer. As there were other gentlemen present, he
+started for his bath-house, but had proceeded but a little way up the
+beach before a cry brought him to the water's edge instantly.
+
+"Something is wrong with Miss Van Tyne," cried half a dozen voices.
+"She ventured out recklessly, and it seems as if she couldn't get back."
+
+At that moment her form rose on the crest of a wave, and above the
+thunder of the surf came her faint cry, "Help!"
+
+The other bathers stood irresolute, for she was dangerously far out,
+and the tide had evidently turned. Ackland, on the contrary, dashed
+through the breakers and then, in his efforts for speed, dived through
+the waves nearest to the shore. When he reached the place where he
+expected to find her he saw nothing for a moment or two but great
+crested billows that every moment were increasing in height under the
+rising wind. For a moment he feared that she had perished, and the
+thought that the beautiful creature had met her death so suddenly and
+awfully made him almost sick and faint. An instant later, however, a
+wave threw her up from the trough of the sea into full vision somewhat
+on his right, and a few strong strokes brought him to her side.
+
+"Oh, save me!" she gasped.
+
+"Don't cling to me," he said sternly. "Do as I bid you. Strike out for
+the shore if you are able; if not, lie on your back and float."
+
+She did the latter, for now that aid had reached her she apparently
+recovered from her panic and was perfectly tractable. He placed his
+left hand under her and struck out quietly, aware that the least
+excitement causing exhaustion on his part might cost both of them their
+lives.
+
+As they approached the shore a rope was thrown to them, and Ackland,
+who felt his strength giving way, seized it--desperately. He passed his
+arm around his companion with a grasp that almost made her breathless,
+and they were dragged half suffocated through the water until strong
+hands on either side rushed them through the breakers.
+
+Miss Van Tyne for a moment or two stood dazed and panting, then
+disengaged herself from the rather warm support of the devoted admirer
+whom she had tried to play against Ackland, and tried to walk, but
+after a few uncertain steps fell senseless on the sand, thus for the
+moment drawing to herself the attention of the increasing throng.
+Ackland, glad to escape notice, was staggering off to his bath-house
+when several ladies, more mindful of his part in the affair than the
+men had been, overtook him with a fire of questions and plaudits.
+
+"Please leave me alone," he said almost savagely, without looking
+around.
+
+"What a bear he is! Any one else would have been a little complacent
+over such an exploit," they chorused, as they followed the unconscious
+girl, who was now being carried to the hotel.
+
+Ackland locked the door of his little apartment and sank panting on the
+bench. "Maledictions on her!" he muttered. "At one time there was a
+better chance of her being fatal to me than to Munson with his
+yellow-fever tragedy in prospect. Her recklessness to-day was perfectly
+insane. If she tries it again she may drown for all that I care, or at
+least ought to care." His anger appeared to act like a tonic, and he
+was soon ready to return to the house. A dozen sprang forward to
+congratulate him, but they found such impatience and annoyance at all
+reference to the affair that with many surmises the topic was dropped.
+
+"You are a queer fellow," remarked his privileged cousin, as he took
+her out to dinner. "Why don't you let people speak naturally about the
+matter, or rather, why don't you pose as the hero of the occasion?"
+
+"Because the whole affair was most unnatural, and I am deeply incensed.
+In a case of necessity I am ready to risk my life, although it has
+unusual attractions for me; but I'm no melodramatic hero looking for
+adventures. What necessity was there in this case? It is the old story
+of Munson over again in another guise. The act was that of an
+inconsiderate, heartless woman who follows her impulses and
+inclinations, no matter what may be the consequences." After a moment
+he added less indignantly, "I must give her credit for one thing, angry
+as I am--she behaved well in the water, otherwise she would have
+drowned me."
+
+"She is not a fool. Most women would have drowned you."
+
+"She is indeed not a fool; therefore she's the more to blame. If she is
+ever so reckless again, may I be asleep in my room. Of course one can't
+stand by and see a woman drown, no matter who or what she is."
+
+"Jack, what made her so reckless?" Mrs. Alston asked, with a sudden
+intelligence lighting up her face.
+
+"Hang it all! How should I know? What made her torture Munson? She
+follows her impulses, and they are not always conducive to any one's
+well-being, not even her own."
+
+"Mark my words, she has never shown this kind of recklessness before."
+
+"Oh, yes, she has. She was running her horse to death the other hot
+morning and nearly trampled on a child;" and he told of an unexpected
+encounter while he was taking a rather extended ramble.
+
+"Well," exclaimed Mrs. Alston, smiling significantly, "I think I
+understand her symptoms better than you do. If you are as cold-blooded
+as you seem, I may have to interfere."
+
+"Oh, bah!" he answered impatiently. "Pardon me, but I should despise
+myself forever should I become sentimental, knowing what I do."
+
+"Jack, had you no compunctions when fearing that such a beautiful girl
+might perish? We are going to have an awful night. Hear the wind
+whistle and moan, and the sky is already black with clouds. The roar of
+the surface grows louder every hour. Think of that lovely form being
+out in those black angry waves, darted at and preyed upon by horrible
+slimy monsters. Oh, it fairly makes my flesh creep!"
+
+"And mine too," he said with a strong gesture of disgust; "especially
+when I remember that I should have kept her company, for of course I
+could not return without her. I confess that when at first I could not
+find her I was fairly sick at the thought of her fate. But remember how
+uncalled for it all was--quite as much so as that poor Will Munson is
+on his way to die with the yellow fever, like enough."
+
+"Jack," said his cousin, affectionately, laying her hand on his arm,
+"blessings on your courage to-day! If what might have happened so
+easily had occurred, I could never have looked upon the sea again
+without a shudder. I should have been tormented by a horrible memory
+all my life. It was brave and noble--"
+
+"Oh, hush!" he said angrily. "I won't hear another word about it even
+from you. I'm not brave and noble. I went because I was compelled to
+go; I hated to go. I hate the girl, and have more reason now than ever.
+If we had both drowned, no doubt there would have been less trouble in
+the world. There would have been one lawyer the less, and a coquette
+extinguished. Now we shall both prey on society in our different ways
+indefinitely."
+
+"Jack, you are in an awful mood to-day."
+
+"I am; never was in a worse."
+
+"Having so narrowly escaped death, you ought to be subdued and
+grateful."
+
+"On the contrary, I'm inclined to profanity. Excuse me; don't wish any
+dessert. I'll try a walk and a cigar. You will now be glad to be rid of
+me on any terms."
+
+"Stay, Jack. See, Miss Van Tyne has so far recovered as to come down.
+She looked unutterable things at you as she entered."
+
+"Of course she did. Very few of her thoughts concerning me or other
+young men would sound well if uttered. Tell your friends to let this
+topic alone, or I shall be rude to them," and without a glance toward
+the girl he had rescued he left the dining-room.
+
+"Well, well," murmured Mrs. Alston, "I never saw Jack in such a mood
+before. It is quite as unaccountable as Miss Tyne's recklessness. I
+wonder what is the matter with HIM."
+
+Ackland was speedily driven back from his walk by the rain, which fact
+he did not regret, for he found himself exhausted and depressed.
+Seeking a retired piazza in order to be alone, he sat down with his hat
+drawn over his eyes and smoked furiously. Before very long, however, he
+was startled out of a painful revery by a timid voice saying:
+
+"Mr. Ackland, won't you permit me to thank you?"
+
+He rose. Miss Van Tyne stood before him with outstretched hand. He did
+not notice it, but bowing coldly, said:
+
+"Please consider that you have thanked me and let the subject drop."
+
+"Do not be so harsh with me," she pleaded. "I cannot help it if you
+are. Mr. Ackland, you saved my life."
+
+"Possibly."
+
+"And possibly you think that it is scarcely worth saving."
+
+"Possibly your own conscience suggested that thought to you."
+
+"You are heartless," she burst out indignantly. He began to laugh.
+"That's a droll charge for you to make," he said.
+
+She looked at him steadfastly for a moment, and then murmured: "You are
+thinking of your friend, Mr. Munson."
+
+"That would be quite natural. How many more can you think of?"
+
+"You are indeed unrelenting," she faltered, tears coming into her eyes;
+"but I cannot forget that but for you _I_ should now be out there"--and
+she indicated the sea by a gesture, then covered her face with her
+hands, and shuddered.
+
+"Do not feel under obligations. I should have been compelled to do as
+much for any human being. You seem to forget that I stood an even
+chance of being out there with you, and that there was no more need of
+the risk than there was that my best friend's life should be blight--"
+
+"You--you out there?" she cried, springing toward him and pointing to
+the sea.
+
+"Certainly. You cannot suppose that having once found you, I could come
+ashore without you. As it was, my strength was rapidly giving way, and
+were it not for the rope--"
+
+"Oh, forgive me," she cried passionately, seizing his hand in spite of
+him. "It never entered my mind that you could drown. I somehow felt
+that nothing could harm you. I was reckless--I didn't know what I was
+doing--I don't understand myself any more. Please--please forgive me,
+or I shall not sleep to-night."
+
+"Certainly," he said lightly, "if you will not refer to our little
+episode again."
+
+"Please don't speak in that way," she sighed, turning away.
+
+"I have complied with your request."
+
+"I suppose I must be content," she resumed sadly. Then turning her head
+slowly toward him she added hesitatingly: "Will you forgive me for--for
+treating your friend--"
+
+"No," he replied, with such stern emphasis that she shrank from him and
+trembled.
+
+"You are indeed heartless," she faltered, as she turned to leave him.
+
+"Miss Van Tyne," he said indignantly, "twice you have charged me with
+being heartless. Your voice and manner indicate that I would be
+unnatural and unworthy of respect were I what you charge. In the name
+of all that's rational what does this word 'heartless' mean to you?
+Where was your heart when you sent my friend away so wretched and
+humbled that he is virtually seeking the death from which you are so
+glad to escape?"
+
+"I did not love him," she protested faintly.
+
+He laughed bitterly, and continued, "Love! That's a word which I
+believe has no meaning for you at all, but it had for him. You are a
+remarkably clever woman, Miss Van Tyne. You have brains in abundance.
+See, I do you justice. What is more, you are beautiful and can be so
+fascinating that a man who believed in you might easily worship you.
+You made him believe in you. You tried to beguile me into a condition
+that with my nature would be ruin indeed. You never had the baby plea
+of a silly, shallow woman. I took pains to find that out the first
+evening we met. In your art of beguiling an honest, trusting man you
+were as perfect as you were remorseless, and you understood exactly
+what you were doing."
+
+For a time she seemed overwhelmed by his lava-like torrent of words,
+and stood with bowed head and shrinking, trembling form; but when he
+ceased she turned to him and said bitterly and emphatically:
+
+"I did NOT understand what I was doing, nor would my brain have taught
+me were I all intellect like yourself. I half wish you had left me to
+drown," and with a slight, despairing gesture she turned away and did
+not look back.
+
+Ackland's face lighted up with a sudden flash of intelligence and deep
+feeling. He started to recall her, hesitated, and watched her earnestly
+until she disappeared; then looking out on the scowling ocean, he took
+off his hat and exclaimed in a deep, low tone:
+
+"By all that's divine, can this be? Is it possible that through the
+suffering of her own awakening heart she is learning to know the pain
+she has given to others? Should this be true, the affair is taking an
+entirely new aspect, and Munson will be avenged as neither of us ever
+dreamed would be possible."
+
+He resumed his old position and thought long and deeply, then rejoined
+his cousin, who was somewhat surprised to find that his bitter mood had
+given place to his former composure.
+
+"How is this, Jack?" she asked. "As the storm grows wilder without, you
+become more serene."
+
+"Only trying to make amends for my former bearishness," he said
+carelessly, but with a little rising color.
+
+"I don't understand you at all," she continued discontentedly. "I saw
+you sulking in that out-of-the-way corner, and I saw Miss Van Tyne
+approach you hesitatingly and timidly, with the purpose, no doubt, of
+thanking you. Of course I did not stay to watch, but a little later I
+met Miss Van Tyne, and she looked white and rigid. She has not left her
+room since."
+
+"You take a great interest in Miss Van Tyne. It is well you are not in
+my place."
+
+"I half wish I was and had your chances. You are more pitiless than the
+waves from which you saved her."
+
+"I can't help being just what I am," he said coldly. "Good-night." And
+he too disappeared for the rest of the evening.
+
+The rain continued to fall in blinding torrents, and the building
+fairly trembled under the violence of the wind. The guests drew
+together in the lighted rooms, and sought by varied amusements to pass
+the time until the fierceness of the storm abated, few caring to retire
+while the uproar of the elements was so great.
+
+At last as the storm passed away, and the late-rising moon threw a
+sickly gleam on the tumultuous waters, Eva looked from her window with
+sleepless eyes, thinking sadly and bitterly of the past and future.
+Suddenly a dark figure appeared on the beach in the track of the
+moonlight. She snatched an opera-glass, but could not recognize the
+solitary form. The thought would come, however, that it was Ackland;
+and if it were, what were his thoughts and what place had she in them?
+Why was he watching so near the spot that might have been their
+burial-place?
+
+"At least he shall not think that I can stolidly sleep after what has
+occurred," she thought, and she turned up her light, opened her window,
+and sat down by it again. Whoever the unseasonable rambler might be, he
+appeared to recognize the gleam from her window, for he walked hastily
+down the beach and disappeared. After a time she darkened her room
+again and waited in vain for his return. "If it were he, he shuns even
+the slightest recognition," she thought despairingly; and the early
+dawn was not far distant when she fell into an unquiet sleep.
+
+For the next few days Miss Van Tyne was a puzzle to all except Mrs.
+Alston. She was quite unlike the girl she had formerly been, and she
+made no effort to disguise the fact. In the place of her old exuberance
+of life and spirits, there was lassitude and great depression. The rich
+color ebbed steadily from her face, and dark lines under her eyes
+betokened sleepless nights. She saw the many curious glances in her
+direction, but apparently did not care what was thought or surmised.
+Were it not that her manner to Ackland was so misleading, the tendency
+to couple their names together would have been far more general. She
+neither sought nor shunned his society; in fact, she treated him as she
+did the other gentlemen of her acquaintance. She took him at his word.
+He had said he would forgive her on condition that she would not speak
+of what he was pleased to term that "little episode," and she never
+referred to it.
+
+Her aunt was as much at fault as the others, and one day querulously
+complained to Mrs. Alston that she was growing anxious about Eva. "At
+first I thought she was disappointed over the indifference of that icy
+cousin of yours; but she does not appear to care a straw for him. When
+I mention his name she speaks of him in a natural, grateful way, then
+her thoughts appear to wander off to some matter that is troubling her.
+I can't find out whether she is ill or whether she has heard some bad
+news of which she will not speak. She never gave me or any one that I
+know of much of her confidence."
+
+Mrs. Alston listened but made no comments. She was sure she was right
+in regard to Miss Van Tyne's trouble, but her cousin mystified her.
+Ackland had become perfectly inscrutable. As far as she could judge by
+any word or act of his he had simply lost his interest in Miss Van
+Tyne, and that was all that could be said; and yet a fine instinct
+tormented Mrs. Alston with the doubt that this was not true, and that
+the young girl was the subject of a sedulously concealed scrutiny. Was
+he watching for his friend or for his own sake, or was he, in a spirit
+of retaliation, enjoying the suffering of one who had made others
+suffer? His reserve was so great that she could not pierce it, and his
+caution baffled even her vigilance. But she waited patiently, assured
+that the little drama must soon pass into a more significant phase.
+
+And she was right. Miss Van Tyne could not maintain the line of action
+she had resolved upon. She had thought, "I won't try to appear happy
+when I am not. I won't adopt the conventional mask of gayety when the
+heart is wounded. How often I have seen through it and smiled at the
+transparent farce--farce it seemed then, but I now fear it was often
+tragedy. At any rate there was neither dignity nor deception in it. I
+have done with being false, and so shall simply act myself and be a
+true woman. Though my heart break a thousand times, not even by a
+glance shall I show that it is breaking for him. If he or others
+surmise the truth, they may; let them. It is a part of my penance; and
+I will show the higher, stronger pride of one who makes no vain,
+useless pretence to happy indifference, but who can maintain a
+self-control so perfect that even Mrs. Alston shall not see one
+unmaidenly advance or overture."
+
+She succeeded for a time, as we have seen, but she overrated her will
+and underrated her heart, that with deepening intensity craved the love
+denied her. With increasing frequency she said to herself, "I must go
+away. My only course is to hide my weakness and never see him again. He
+is inflexible, yet his very obduracy increases my love a hundred-fold."
+
+At last after a lonely walk on the beach she concluded, "My guardian
+must take me home on Monday next. He comes to-night to spend Sunday
+with us, and I will make preparations to go at once."
+
+Although her resolution did not fail her, she walked forward more and
+more slowly, her dejection and weariness becoming almost overpowering.
+As she was turning a sharp angle of rocks that jutted well down to the
+water she came face to face with Ackland and Mrs. Alston. She was off
+her guard; and her thoughts of him had been so absorbing that she felt
+he must be conscious of them. She flushed painfully and hurried by with
+slight recognition and downcast face, but she had scarcely passed them
+when, acting under a sudden impulse, she stopped and said in a low tone:
+
+"Mr. Ackland--"
+
+He turned expectantly toward her. For a moment she found it difficult
+to speak, then ignoring the presence of Mrs. Alston, resolutely began:
+
+"Mr. Ackland, I must refer once more to a topic which you have in a
+sense forbidden. I feel partially absolved, however, for I do not think
+you have forgiven me anything. At any rate I must ask your pardon once
+more for having so needlessly and foolishly imperilled your life. I say
+these words now because I may not have another opportunity; we leave on
+Monday." With this she raised her eyes to his with an appeal for a
+little kindness which Mrs. Alston was confident could not be resisted.
+Indeed, she was sure that she saw a slight nervous tremor in Ackland's
+hands, as if he found it hard to control himself. Then he appeared to
+grow rigid. Lifting his hat, he said gravely and unresponsively:
+
+"Miss Van Tyne, you now surely have made ample amends. Please forget
+the whole affair."
+
+She turned from him at once, but not so quickly but that both he and
+his cousin saw the bitter tears that would come. A moment later she was
+hidden by the angle of the rock. As long as she was visible Ackland
+watched her without moving, then he slowly turned to his cousin, his
+face as inscrutable as ever. She walked at his side for a few moments
+in ill-concealed impatience, then stopped and said decisively:
+
+"I'll go no further with you to-day. I am losing all respect for you."
+
+Without speaking, he turned to accompany her back to the house. His
+reticence and coldness appeared to annoy her beyond endurance, for she
+soon stopped and sat down on a ledge of the rocks that jutted down the
+beach where they had met Miss Van Tyne.
+
+"John, you are the most unnatural man I ever saw in my life," she began
+angrily.
+
+"What reason have you for so flattering an opinion," he asked coolly.
+
+"You have been giving reason for it every day since you came here," she
+resumed hotly. "I always heard it said that you had no heart; but I
+defended you and declared that your course toward your mother even when
+a boy showed that you had, and that you would prove it some day. But I
+now believe that you are unnaturally cold, heartless, and unfeeling. I
+had no objection to your wounding Miss Van Tyne's vanity and encouraged
+you when that alone bid fair to suffer. But when she proved she had a
+heart and that you had awakened it, she deserved at least kindness and
+consideration on your part. If you could not return her affection, you
+should have gone away at once; but I believe that you have stayed for
+the sole and cruel purpose of gloating over her suffering."
+
+"She has not suffered more than my friend, or than I would if--"
+
+"You indeed! The idea of your suffering from any such cause! I half
+believe you came here with the deliberate purpose of avenging your
+friend, and that you are keeping for his inspection a diary in which
+the poor girl's humiliation to-day will form the hateful climax."
+
+They did not dream that the one most interested was near. Miss Van Tyne
+had felt too faint and sorely wounded to go further without rest.
+Believing that the rocks would hide her from those whose eyes she would
+most wish to shun, she had thrown herself down beyond the angle and was
+shedding the bitterest tears that she had ever known. Suddenly she
+heard Mrs. Alston's words but a short distance away, and was so
+overcome by their import that she hesitated what to do. She would not
+meet them again for the world, but felt so weak that she doubted
+whether she could drag herself away without being discovered,
+especially as the beach trended off to the left so sharply a little
+further on that they might discover her. While she was looking vainly
+for some way of escape she heard Ackland's words and Mrs. Alston's
+surmise in reply that he had come with the purpose of revenge. She was
+so stung by their apparent truth that she resolved to clamber up
+through an opening of the rocks if the thing were possible. Panting and
+exhausted she gained the summit, and then hastened to an adjacent
+grove, as some wounded, timid creature would run to the nearest cover.
+Ackland had heard sounds and had stepped around the point of the rocks
+just in time to see her disappearing above the bank. Returning to Mrs.
+Alston, he said impatiently:
+
+"In view of your opinions my society can have no attractions for you.
+Shall I accompany you to the hotel?"
+
+"No," was the angry reply. "I'm in no mood to speak to you again
+to-day."
+
+He merely bowed and turned as if to pursue his walk. The moment she was
+hidden, however, he also climbed the rocks in time to see Miss Van Tyne
+entering the grove. With swift and silent tread he followed her, but
+could not at once discover her hiding-place. At last passionate sobs
+made it evident that she was concealed behind a great oak a little on
+his left. Approaching cautiously, he heard her moan:
+
+"Oh, this is worse than death! He makes me feel as if even God had no
+mercy for me. But I will expiate my wrong; I will, at the bitterest
+sacrifice which a woman can make."
+
+She sprang up to meet Ackland standing with folded arms before her. She
+started violently and leaned against the tree for support. But the
+weakness was momentary, for she wiped the tears from her eyes, and then
+turned to him so quietly that only her extreme pallor proved that she
+realized the import of her words.
+
+"Mr. Ackland," she asked, "have you Mr. Munson's address?"
+
+It was his turn now to start, but he merely answered: "Yes."
+
+"Do--do you think he still cares for me?"
+
+"Undoubtedly."
+
+"Since then you are so near a friend, will you write to him that I will
+try"--she turned away and would not look at him as, after a moment's
+hesitation, she concluded her sentence--"I will try to make him as
+happy as I can."
+
+"Do you regret your course?" he asked with a slight tremor in his voice.
+
+"I regret that I misled--that I wronged him beyond all words. I am
+willing to make all the amends in my power."
+
+"Do you love him?"
+
+She now turned wholly away and shook her head.
+
+"And yet you would marry him?"
+
+"Yes, if he wished it, knowing all the truth."
+
+"Can you believe he would wish it?" he asked indignantly. "Can you
+believe that any man--"
+
+"Then avenge him to your cruel soul's content," she exclaimed
+passionately. "Tell him that I have no heart to give to him or to any
+one. Through no effort or fault of mine I overheard Mrs. Alston's words
+and yours. I know your design against me. Assuage your friend's grief
+by assuring him of your entire success, of which you are already so
+well aware. Tell him how you triumphed over an untaught, thoughtless
+girl who was impelled merely by the love of power and excitement, as
+you are governed by ambition and a remorseless will. I did not know--I
+did not understand how cruel I was, although now that I do know I shall
+never forgive myself. But if you had the heart of a man you might have
+seen that you were subjecting me to torture. I did not ask or expect
+that you should care for me; but I had a right to hope for a little
+kindness, a little manly and delicate consideration, a little healing
+sympathy for the almost mortal wound that you have made. But I now see
+that you have stood by and watched like a grand inquisitor. Tell your
+friend that you have transformed the thoughtless girl into a suffering
+woman. I cannot go to Brazil. I cannot face dangers that might bring
+rest. I must keep my place in society--keep it too under a hundred
+observant and curious eyes. You have seen it all of late in this house;
+I was too wretched to care. It was a part of my punishment, and I
+accepted it. I would not be false again even in trying to conceal a
+secret which it is like death to a woman to reveal. I only craved one
+word of kindness from you. Had I received it, I would have gone away in
+silence and suffered in silence. But your course and what I have heard
+have made me reckless and despairing. You do not leave me even the poor
+consolation of self-sacrifice. You are my stony-hearted fate. I wish
+you had left me to drown. Tell your friend that I am more wretched than
+he ever can be, because I am a woman. Will he be satisfied?"
+
+"He ought to be," was the low, husky reply.
+
+"Are you proud of your triumph?"
+
+"No, I am heartily ashamed of it; but I have kept a pledge that will
+probably cost me far more than it has you."
+
+"A pledge?"
+
+"Yes, my pledge to make you suffer as far as possible as he suffered."
+
+She put her hand to her side as if she had received a wound, and after
+a moment said wearily and coldly:
+
+"Well, tell him that you succeeded, and be content;" and she turned to
+leave him.
+
+"Stay," he cried impetuously. "It is now your turn. Take your revenge."
+
+"My revenge?" she repeated in unfeigned astonishment.
+
+"Yes, your revenge. I have loved you from the moment I hoped you had a
+woman's heart, yes, and before--when I feared I might not be able to
+save your life. I know it now, though the very thought of it enraged me
+then. I have watched and waited more to be sure that you had a woman's
+heart than for aught else, though a false sense of honor kept me true
+to my pledge. After I met you on the beach I determined at once to
+break my odious bond and place myself at your mercy. You may refuse me
+in view of my course--you probably will; but every one in that house
+there shall know that you refused me, and your triumph shall be more
+complete than mine."
+
+She looked into his face with an expression of amazement and doubt; but
+instead of coldness, there was now a devotion and pleading that she had
+never seen before.
+
+She was too confused and astounded, however, to comprehend his words
+immediately, nor could the impression of his hostility pass away
+readily.
+
+"You are mocking me," she faltered, scarcely knowing what she said.
+
+"I cannot blame you that you think me capable of mocking the noble
+candor which has cost you so dear, as I can now understand. I cannot
+ask you to believe that I appreciate your heroic impulse of
+self-sacrifice--your purpose to atone for wrong by inflicting
+irreparable wrong on yourself. It is natural that you should think of
+me only as an instrument of revenge with no more feeling than some
+keen-edged weapon would have. This also is the inevitable penalty of my
+course. When I speak of my love I cannot complain if you smile in
+bitter incredulity. But I have at least proved that I have a resolute
+will and that I keep my word; and I again assure you that it shall be
+known this very night that you have refused me, that I offered you my
+hand, that you already had my heart, where your image is enshrined with
+that of my mother, and that I entreated you to be my wife. My cousin
+alone guessed my miserable triumph; all shall know of yours."
+
+As he spoke with impassioned earnestness, the confusion passed from her
+mind. She felt the truth of his words; she knew that her ambitious
+dream had been fulfilled, and that she had achieved the conquest of a
+man upon whom all others had smiled in vain. But how immeasurably
+different were her emotions from those which she had once anticipated!
+Not her beauty, not her consummate skill in fascination had wrought
+this miracle, but her woman's heart, awakened at last; and it thrilled
+with such unspeakable joy that she turned away to hide its reflex in
+her face. He was misled by the act into believing that she could not
+forgive him, and yet was perplexed when she murmured with a return of
+her old piquant humor:
+
+"You are mistaken, Mr. Ackland; it shall never be known that I refused
+you."
+
+"How can you prevent it?"
+
+"If your words are sincere, you will submit to such terms as I choose
+to make."
+
+"I am sincere, and my actions shall prove it; but I shall permit no
+mistaken self-sacrifice on your part, nor any attempt to shield me from
+the punishment I well deserve."
+
+She suddenly turned upon him a radiant face in which he read his
+happiness, and faltered:
+
+"Jack, I do believe you, although the change seems wrought by some
+heavenly magic. But it will take a long time to pay you up. I hope to
+be your dear torment for a lifetime."
+
+He caught her in such a strong, impetuous embrace that she gasped:
+
+"I thought you were--cold to our sex."
+
+"It's not your sex that I am clasping, but you--YOU, my Eve. Like the
+first man, I have won my bride under the green trees and beneath the
+open sky."
+
+"Yes, Jack; and I give you my whole heart as truly as did the first
+woman when there was but one man in all the world. That is MY REVENGE."
+
+This is what Will Munson wrote some weeks later:
+
+"Well, Jack, I've had the yellow fever, and it was the most fortunate
+event of my life. I was staying with a charming family, and they would
+not permit my removal to a hospital. One of my bravest and most devoted
+nurses has consented to become my wife. I hope you punished that little
+wretch Eva Van Tyne as she deserved."
+
+"Confound your fickle soul!" muttered Ackland. "I punished her as she
+did not deserve; and I risked more than life in doing so. If her heart
+had not been as good as gold and as kind as Heaven she never would have
+looked at me again."
+
+Ackland is quite as indifferent to the sex as ever, but Eva has never
+complained that he was cold to her.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+A CHRISTMAS-EVE SUIT
+
+
+The Christmas holidays had come, and with them a welcome vacation for
+Hedley Marstern. Although as yet a briefless young lawyer, he had a
+case in hand which absorbed many of his thoughts--the conflicting
+claims of two young women in his native village on the Hudson. It must
+not be imagined that the young women were pressing their claims except
+as they did so unconsciously, by virtue of their sex and various
+charms. Nevertheless, Marstern was not the first lawyer who had clients
+over whom midnight oil was burned, they remaining unaware of the fact.
+
+If not yet a constitutional attorney, he was at least constitutionally
+one. Falling helplessly in love with one girl simplifies matters. There
+are no distracting pros and cons--nothing required but a concentration
+of faculties to win the enslaver, and so achieve mastery. Marstern did
+not appear amenable to the subtle influences which blind the eyes and
+dethrone reason, inspiring in its place an overwhelming impulse to
+capture a fortuitous girl because (to a heated imagination) she
+surpasses all her sex. Indeed, he was level-headed enough to believe
+that he would never capture any such girl; but he hoped to secure one
+who promised to make as good a wife as he would try to be a husband,
+and with a fair amount of self-esteem, he was conscious of
+imperfections. Therefore, instead of fancying that any of his fair
+acquaintances were angels, he had deliberately and, as some may think,
+in a very cold-blooded fashion, endeavored to discover what they
+actually were. He had observed that a good deal of prose followed the
+poetry of wooing and the lunacy of the honeymoon; and he thought it
+might be well to criticise a little before marriage as well as after it.
+
+There were a number of charming girls in the social circle of his
+native town; and he had, during later years, made himself quite
+impartially agreeable to them. Indeed, without much effort on his part
+he had become what is known as a general favorite. He had been too
+diligent a student to become a society man, but was ready enough in
+vacation periods to make the most of every country frolic, and even on
+great occasions to rush up from the city and return at some unearthly
+hour in the morning when his partners in the dance were not half
+through their dreams. While on these occasions he had shared in the
+prevailing hilarity, he nevertheless had the presentiment that some one
+of the laughing, light-footed girls would one day pour his coffee and
+send him to his office in either a good or a bad mood to grapple with
+the problems awaiting him there. He had in a measure decided that when
+he married it should be to a girl whom he had played with in childhood
+and whom he knew a good deal about, and not to a chance acquaintance of
+the world at large. So, beneath all his diversified gallantries he had
+maintained a quiet little policy of observation, until his thoughts had
+gradually gathered around two of his young associates who,
+unconsciously to themselves, as we have said, put in stronger and
+stronger claims every time he saw them. They asserted these claims in
+the only way in which he would have recognized them--by being more
+charming, agreeable, and, as he fancied, by being better than the
+others. He had not made them aware, even by manner, of the distinction
+accorded to them; and as yet he was merely a friend.
+
+But the time had come, he believed, for definite action. While he
+weighed and considered, some prompter fellows might take the case out
+of his hands entirely; therefore he welcomed this vacation and the
+opportunities it afforded.
+
+The festivities began with what is termed in the country a "large
+party"; and Carrie Mitchell and Lottie Waldo were both there,
+resplendent in new gowns made for the occasion. Marstern thought them
+both charming. They danced equally well and talked nonsense with much
+the same ease and vivacity. He could not decide which was the prettier,
+nor did the eyes and attentions of others afford him any aid. They were
+general favorites, as well as himself, although it was evident that to
+some they might become more, should they give encouragement. But they
+were apparently in the heyday of their girlhood, and thus far had
+preferred miscellaneous admiration to individual devotion. By the time
+the evening was over Marstern felt that if life consisted of large
+parties he might as well settle the question by the toss of a copper.
+
+It must not be supposed that he was such a conceited prig as to imagine
+that such a fortuitous proceeding, or his best efforts afterward, could
+settle the question as it related to the girls. It would only decide
+his own procedure. He was like an old marauding baron, in honest doubt
+from which town he can carry off the richest booty--that is, in case he
+can capture any one of them. His overtures for capitulation might be
+met with the "slings and arrows of outrageous fortune" and he be sent
+limping off the field. Nevertheless, no man regrets that he must take
+the initiative, and he would be less than a man who would fear to do
+so. When it came to this point in the affair, Marstern shrugged his
+shoulders and thought, "I must take my chances like the rest." But he
+wished to be sure that he had attained this point, and not lay siege to
+one girl only to wish afterward it had been the other.
+
+His course that evening proved that he not only had a legal cast of
+mind but also a judicial one. He invited both Miss Mitchell and Miss
+Waldo to take a sleigh-ride with him the following evening, fancying
+that when sandwiched between them in the cutter he could impartially
+note his impressions. His unsuspecting clients laughingly accepted,
+utterly unaware of the momentous character of the trial scene before
+them.
+
+As Marstern smoked a cigar before retiring that night, he admitted to
+himself that it was rather a remarkable court that was about to be
+held. He was the only advocate for the claims of each, and finally he
+proposed to take a seat on the bench and judge between them. Indeed,
+before he slept he decided to take that august position at once, and
+maintain a judicial impartiality while noting his impressions.
+
+Christmas Eve happened to be a cold, clear, star-lit night; and when
+Marstern drove to Miss Waldo's door, he asked himself, "Could a fellow
+ask for anything daintier and finer" than the red-lipped, dark-eyed
+girl revealed by the hall-lamp as she tripped lightly out, her anxious
+mamma following her with words of unheeded caution about not taking
+cold, and coming home early. He had not traversed the mile which
+intervened between the residences of the two girls before he almost
+wished he could continue the drive under the present auspices, and
+that, as in the old times, he could take toll at every bridge, and
+encircle his companion with his arm as they bounced over the "thank-'ee
+mams." The frosty air appeared to give keenness and piquancy to Miss
+Lottie's wit, and the chime of the bells was not merrier or more
+musical than her voice. But when a little later he saw blue-eyed Carrie
+Mitchell in her furs and hood silhouetted in the window, his old
+dilemma became as perplexing as ever. Nevertheless, it was the most
+delightful uncertainty that he had ever experienced; and he had a
+presentiment that he had better make the most of it, since it could not
+last much longer. Meanwhile, he was hedged about with blessings clearly
+not in disguise, and he gave utterance to this truth as they drove away.
+
+"Surely there never was so lucky a fellow. Here I am kept warm and
+happy by the two finest girls in town."
+
+"Yes," said Lottie; "and it's a shame you can't sit on both sides of
+us."
+
+"I assure you I wish it were possible. It would double my pleasure."
+
+"I'm very well content," remarked Carrie, quietly, "as long as I can
+keep on the right side of people--"
+
+"Well, you are not on the right side to-night," interrupted Lottie.
+
+"Good gracious!" thought Marstern, "she's next to my heart. I wonder if
+that will give her unfair advantage;" but Carrie explained:
+
+"Of course I was speaking metaphorically."
+
+"In that aspect of the case it would be a shame to me if any side I
+have is not right toward those who have so honored me," he hastened to
+say.
+
+"Oh, Carrie has all the advantage--she is next to your heart."
+
+"Would you like to exchange places?" was the query flashed back by
+Carrie.
+
+"Oh, no, I'm quite as content as you are."
+
+"Why, then, since I am more than content--exultant, indeed--it appears
+that we all start from excellent premises to reach a happy conclusion
+of our Christmas Eve," cried Marstern.
+
+"Now you are talking shop, Mr. Lawyer--Premises and Conclusions,
+indeed!" said Lottie; "since you are such a happy sandwich, you must be
+a tongue sandwich, and be very entertaining."
+
+He did his best, the two girls seconding his efforts so genially that
+he found himself, after driving five miles, psychologically just where
+he was physically--between them, as near to one in his thoughts and
+preferences as to the other.
+
+"Let us take the river road home," suggested Lottie.
+
+"As long as you agree," he answered, "you both are sovereign
+potentates. If you should express conflicting wishes, I should have to
+stop here in the road till one abdicated in favor of the other, or we
+all froze."
+
+"But you, sitting so snugly between us, would not freeze," said Lottie.
+"If we were obstinate we should have to assume our pleasantest
+expressions, and then you could eventually take us home as bits of
+sculpture. In fact, I'm getting cold already."
+
+"Are you also, Miss Carrie?"
+
+"Oh, I'll thaw out before summer. Don't mind me."
+
+"Well, then, mind me," resumed Lottie. "See how white and smooth the
+river looks. Why can't we drive home on the ice? It will save miles--I
+mean it looks so inviting."
+
+"Oh, dear!" cried Carrie, "I feel like protesting now. The longest way
+round may be both the shortest and safest way home."
+
+"You ladies shall decide. This morning I drove over the route we would
+take to-night, and I should not fear to take a ton of coal over it."
+
+"A comparison suggesting warmth and a grate-fire. I vote for the
+river," said Lottie, promptly.
+
+"Oh, well, Mr. Marstern, if you've been over the ice so recently--I
+only wish to feel reasonably safe."
+
+"I declare!" thought Marstern, "Lottie is the braver and more brilliant
+girl; and the fact that she is not inclined to forego the comfort of
+the home-fire for the pleasure of my company, reveals the difficulty
+of, and therefore incentive to, the suit I may decide to enter upon
+before New Year's."
+
+Meanwhile, his heart on Carrie's side began to grow warm and alert, as
+if recognizing an affinity to some object not far off. Granting that
+she had not been so brilliant as Lottie, she had been eminently
+companionable in a more quiet way. If there had not been such bursts of
+enthusiasm at the beginning of the drive, her enjoyment appeared to
+have more staying powers. He liked her none the less that her eyes were
+often turned toward the stars or the dark silhouettes of the leafless
+trees against the snow. She did not keep saying, "Ah, how lovely! What
+a fine bit that is!" but he had only to follow her eyes to see
+something worth looking at.
+
+"A proof that Miss Carrie also is not so preoccupied with the pleasure
+of my company that she has no thoughts for other things," cogitated
+Marstern. "It's rather in her favor that she prefers Nature to a grate
+fire. They're about even yet."
+
+Meanwhile the horse was speeding along on the white, hard expanse of
+the river, skirting the west shore. They now had only about a mile to
+drive before striking land again; and the scene was so beautiful with
+the great dim outlines of the mountains before them that both the girls
+suggested that they should go leisurely for a time.
+
+"We shouldn't hastily and carelessly pass such a picture as that, any
+more than one would if a fine copy of it were hung in a gallery," said
+Carrie. "The stars are so brilliant along the brow of that highland
+yonder that they form a dia--oh, oh! what IS the matter?" and she clung
+to Marstern's arm.
+
+The horse was breaking through the ice.
+
+"Whoa!" said Marstern, firmly. Even as he spoke, Lottie was out of the
+sleigh and running back on the ice, crying and wringing her hands.
+
+"We shall be drowned," she almost screamed hysterically.
+
+"Mr. Marstern, what SHALL we do? Can't we turn around and go back the
+way we came?"
+
+"Miss Carrie, will you do what I ask? Will you believe me when I say
+that I do not think you are in any danger?"
+
+"Yes, I'll do my best," she replied, catching her breath. She grew calm
+rapidly as he tried to reassure Lottie, telling her that water from the
+rising of the tide had overflowed the main ice and that thin ice had
+formed over it, also that the river at the most was only two or three
+feet deep at that point. But all was of no avail; Lottie stood out upon
+the ice in a panic, declaring that he never should have brought them
+into such danger, and that he must turn around at once and go back as
+they came.
+
+"But, Miss Waldo, the tide is rising, and we may find wet places
+returning. Besides, it would bring us home very late. Now, Miss Carrie
+and I will drive slowly across this place and then return for you.
+After we have been across it twice you surely won't fear."
+
+"I won't be left alone; suppose you two should break through and
+disappear, what would become of ME?"
+
+"You would be better off than we," he replied, laughing.
+
+"I think it's horrid of you to laugh. Oh, I'm so cold and frightened! I
+feel as if the ice were giving way under my feet."
+
+"Why, Miss Lottie, we just drove over that spot where you stand. Here,
+Miss Carrie shall stay with you while I drive back and forth alone."
+
+"Then if you were drowned we'd both be left alone to freeze to death."
+
+"I pledge you my word you shall be by that grate-fire within less than
+an hour if you will trust me five minutes."
+
+"Oh, well, if you will risk your life and ours too; but Carrie must
+stay with me."
+
+"Will YOU trust me, Miss Carrie, and help me out of this scrape?"
+
+Carrie was recovering from her panic, and replied, "I have given you my
+promise."
+
+He was out of the sleigh instantly, and the thin ice broke with him
+also. "I must carry you a short distance," he said. "I cannot allow you
+to get your feet wet. Put one arm around my neck, so; now please obey
+as you promised."
+
+She did so without a word, and he bore her beyond the water, inwardly
+exulting and blessing that thin ice. His decision was coming with the
+passing seconds; indeed, it had come. Returning to the sleigh he drove
+slowly forward, his horse making a terrible crunching and splashing,
+Lottie meanwhile keeping up a staccato accompaniment of little shrieks.
+
+"Ah, my charming creature," he thought, "with you it was only, 'What
+will become of ME?' I might not have found out until it was too late
+the relative importance of 'me' in the universe had we not struck this
+bad crossing; and one comes to plenty of bad places to cross in a
+lifetime."
+
+The area of thin ice was not very narrow, and he was becoming but a dim
+and shadowy outline to the girls. Lottie was now screaming for his
+return. Having crossed the overflowed space and absolutely assured
+himself that there was no danger, he returned more rapidly and found
+Carrie trying to calm her companion.
+
+"Oh," sobbed Lottie, "my feet are wet and almost frozen. The ice
+underneath may have borne you, but it won't bear all three of us. Oh,
+dear, I wish I hadn't--I wish I was home; and I feel as if I'd never
+get there."
+
+"Miss Lottie, I assure you that the ice will hold a ton, but I'll tell
+you what I'll do. I shall put you in the sleigh, and Miss Carrie will
+drive you over. You two together do not weigh much more than I do. I'll
+walk just behind you with my hands on the back of the sleigh, and if I
+see the slightest danger I'll lift you out of the sleigh first and
+carry you to safety."
+
+This proposition promised so well that she hesitated, and he lifted her
+in instantly before she could change her mind, then helped Carrie in
+with a quiet pressure of the hand, as much as to say, "I shall depend
+on you."
+
+"But, Mr. Marstern, you'll get your feet wet," protested Carrie.
+
+"That doesn't matter," he replied good-naturedly. "I shall be no worse
+off than Miss Lottie, and I'm determined to convince her of safety. Now
+go straight ahead as I direct."
+
+Once the horse stumbled, and Lottie thought he was going down head
+first. "Oh, lift me out, quick, quick!" she cried.
+
+"Yes, indeed I will, Miss Lottie, as soon as we are opposite that grate
+fire of yours."
+
+They were soon safely over, and within a half-hour reached Lottie's
+home. It was evident she was a little ashamed of her behavior, and she
+made some effort to retrieve herself. But she was cold and miserable,
+vexed with herself and still more vexed with Marstern. That a latent
+sense of justice forbade the latter feeling only irritated her the
+more. Individuals as well as communities must have scapegoats; and it
+is not an unusual impulse on the part of some to blame and dislike
+those before whom they have humiliated themselves.
+
+She gave her companions a rather formal invitation to come in and get
+warm before proceeding further; but Marstern said very politely that he
+thought it was too late, unless Miss Carrie was cold. Carrie protested
+that she was not so cold but that she could easily wait till she
+reached her own fireside.
+
+"Well, good-night, then," and the door was shut a trifle emphatically.
+
+"Mr. Marstern," said Carrie, sympathetically, "your feet must be very
+cold and wet after splashing through all that ice-water."
+
+"They are," he replied; "but I don't mind it. Well, if I had tried for
+years I could not have found such a test of character as we had
+to-night."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"Oh, well, you two girls did not behave exactly alike. I liked the way
+you behaved. You helped me out of a confounded scrape."
+
+"Would you have tried for years to find a test?" she asked, concealing
+the keenness of her query under a laugh.
+
+"I should have been well rewarded if I had, by such a fine contrast,"
+he replied.
+
+Carrie's faculties had not so congealed but that his words set her
+thinking. She had entertained at times the impression that she and
+Lottie were his favorites. Had he taken them out that night together in
+the hope of contrasts, of finding tests that would help his halting
+decision? He had ventured where the intuitions of a girl like Carrie
+Mitchell were almost equal to second-sight; and she was alert for what
+would come next.
+
+He accepted her invitation to come in and warm his feet at the glowing
+fire in the grate, which Carrie's father had made before retiring. Mrs.
+Mitchell, feeling that her daughter was with an old friend and
+playmate, did not think the presence of a chaperon essential, and left
+the young people alone. Carrie bustled about, brought cake, and made
+hot lemonade, while Marstern stretched his feet to the grate with a
+luxurious sense of comfort and complacency, thinking how homelike it
+all was and how paradisiacal life would become if such a charming
+little Hebe presided over his home. His lemonade became nectar offered
+by such hands.
+
+She saw the different expression in his eyes. It was now homage,
+decided preference for one and not mere gallantry to two. Outwardly she
+was demurely oblivious and maintained simply her wonted friendliness.
+Marstern, however, was thawing in more senses than one, and he was
+possessed by a strong impulse to begin an open siege at once.
+
+"I haven't had a single suit of any kind yet, Carrie," he said,
+dropping the prefix of "Miss," which had gradually been adopted as they
+had grown up.
+
+"Oh, well, that was the position of all the great lawyers once," she
+replied, laughing. Marstern's father was wealthy, and all knew that he
+could afford to be briefless for a time.
+
+"I may never be great; but I shall work as hard as any of them," he
+continued. "To tell you the honest truth, however, this would be the
+happiest Christmas Eve of my life if I had a downright suit on my
+hands. Why can't I be frank with you and say I'd like to begin the
+chief suit of my life now and here--a suit for this little hand? I'd
+plead for it as no lawyer ever pleaded before. I settled that much down
+on the ice."
+
+"And if I hadn't happened to behave on the ice in a manner agreeable to
+your lordship, you would have pleaded with the other girl?" she
+remarked, withdrawing her hand and looking him directly in the eyes.
+
+"What makes you think so?" he asked somewhat confusedly.
+
+"You do."
+
+He sprang up and paced the room a few moments, then confronted her with
+the words, "You shall have the whole truth. Any woman that I would ask
+to be my wife is entitled to that," and he told her just what the
+attitude of his mind had been from the first.
+
+She laughed outright, then gave him her hand as she said, "Your honesty
+insures that we can be very good friends; but I don't wish to hear
+anything more about suits which are close of kin to lawsuits."
+
+He looked very dejected, feeling that he had blundered fatally in his
+precipitation.
+
+"Come now, Hedley, be sensible," she resumed, half laughing, half
+serious. "As you say, we can be frank with each other. Why, only the
+other day we were boy and girl together coasting downhill on the same
+sled. You are applying your legal jargon to a deep experience, to
+something sacred--the result, to my mind, of a divine instinct. Neither
+you nor I have ever felt for each other this instinctive preference,
+this subtle gravitation of the heart. Don't you see? Your head has been
+concerned about me, and only your head. By a kindred process you would
+select one bale of merchandise in preference to another. Good gracious!
+I've faults enough. You'll meet some other girl that will stand some
+other test far better than I. I want a little of what you call silly
+romance in my courtship. See; I can talk about this suit as coolly and
+fluently as you can. We'd make a nice pair of lovers, about as frigid
+as the ice-water you waded through so good-naturedly;" and the girl's
+laugh rang out merrily, awakening echoes in the old house. Mr. and Mrs.
+Mitchell might rest securely when their daughter could laugh like that.
+It was the mirth of a genuine American girl whose self-protection was
+better than the care of a thousand duennas.
+
+He looked at her with honest admiration in his eyes, then rose quietly
+and said, "That's fine, Carrie. Your head's worth two of mine, and
+you'd make the better lawyer. You see through a case from top to
+bottom. You were right--I wasn't in love with you; I don't know whether
+I'm in love with you now, and you haven't an infinitesimal spark for
+me. Nevertheless, I begin my suit here and now, and I shall never
+withdraw it till you are engaged to another fellow. So there!"
+
+Carrie looked rather blank at this result of her reductio ad absurdum
+process; and he did not help her by adding, "A fellow isn't always in
+love. There must be a beginning; and when I arrive at this beginning
+under the guidance of reason, judgment, and observation, I don't see as
+I'm any more absurd than the fellow who tumbles helplessly in love, he
+doesn't know why. What becomes of all these people who have divine
+gravitations? You and I both know of some who had satanic repulsions
+afterward. They used their eyes and critical faculties after marriage
+instead of before. The romance exhaled like a morning mist; and the
+facts came out distinctly. They learned what kind of man and woman they
+actually were, and two idealized creatures were sent to limbo. Because
+I don't blunder upon the woman I wish to marry, but pick her out,
+that's no reason I can't and won't love her. Your analysis and judgment
+were correct only up to date. You have now to meet a suit honestly,
+openly announced. This may be bad policy on my part; yet I have so much
+faith in you and respect for you that I don't believe you will let my
+precipitation create a prejudice. Give me a fair hearing; that's all I
+ask."
+
+"Well, well, I'll promise not to frown, even though some finer paragon
+should throw me completely in the shade."
+
+"You don't believe in my yet," he resumed, after a moment of thought.
+"I felt that I had blundered awfully a while ago; but I doubt it. A
+girl of your perceptions would soon have seen it all. I've not lost
+anything by being frank from the start. Be just to me, however. It
+wasn't policy that led me to speak, but this homelike scene, and you
+appearing like the good genius of a home."
+
+He pulled out his watch, and gave a low whistle as he held it toward
+her. Then his manner suddenly became grave and gentle. "Carrie," he
+said, "I wish you, not a merry Christmas, but a happy one, and many of
+them. It seems to me it would be a great privilege for a man to make a
+woman like you happy."
+
+"Is this the beginning of the suit?" she asked with a laugh that was a
+little forced.
+
+"I don't know. Perhaps it is; but I spoke just as I felt. Good-night."
+
+She would not admit of a trace of sentiment on her part. "Good-night,"
+she said. "Merry Christmas! Go home and hang up your stocking."
+
+"Bless me!" she thought, as she went slowly up the stairs, "I thought I
+was going to be through with him for good and all, except as a friend;
+but if he goes on this way--"
+
+The next morning a basket of superb roses was left at her home. There
+was no card, and mamma queried and surmised; but the girl knew. They
+were not displeasing to her, and somehow, before the day was over, they
+found their way to her room; but she shook her head decidedly as she
+said, "He must be careful not to send me other gifts, for I will return
+them instantly. Flowers, in moderation, never commit a girl."
+
+But then came another gift--a book with pencillings here and there, not
+against sentimental passages, but words that made her think. It was his
+manner in society, however, that at once annoyed, perplexed, and
+pleased her. On the first occasion they met in company with others, he
+made it clear to every one that he was her suitor; yet he was not a
+burr which she could not shake off. He rather seconded all her efforts
+to have a good time with any and every one she chose. Nor did he,
+wallflower fashion, mope in the meanwhile and look unutterable things.
+He added to the pleasure of a score of others, and even conciliated
+Lottie, yet at the same time surrounded the girl of his choice with an
+atmosphere of unobtrusive devotion. She was congratulated on her
+conquest--rather maliciously so by Lottie. Her air of courteous
+indifference was well maintained; yet she was a woman, and could not
+help being flattered. Certain generous traits in her nature were
+touched also by a homage which yielded everything and exacted nothing.
+
+The holidays soon passed, and he returned to his work. She learned
+incidentally that he toiled faithfully, instead of mooning around. At
+every coigne of vantage she found him, or some token of his ceaseless
+effort. She was compelled to think of him, and to think well of him.
+Though mamma and papa judiciously said little, it was evident that they
+liked the style of lover into which he was developing.
+
+Once during the summer she said: "I don't think it's right to let you
+go on in this way any longer."
+
+"Are my attentions so very annoying?"
+
+"No, indeed. A girl never had a more agreeable or useful friend."
+
+"Are you engaged to some other fellow?"
+
+"Of course not. You know better."
+
+"There is no 'of course not' about it. I couldn't and wouldn't lay a
+straw in the way. You are not bound, but I."
+
+"You bound?"
+
+"Certainly. You remember what I said."
+
+"Then I must accept the first man that asks me--"
+
+"I ask you."
+
+"No; some one else, so as to unloose your conscience and give you a
+happy deliverance."
+
+"You would leave me still bound and hopeless in that case. I love you
+now, Carrie Mitchell."
+
+"Oh, dear! you are incorrigible. It's just a lawyer's persistence in
+winning a suit."
+
+"You can still swear on the dictionary that you don't love me at all?"
+
+"I might--on the dictionary. There, I won't talk about such things any
+more," and she resolutely changed the subject.
+
+But she couldn't swear, even on the dictionary. She didn't know where
+she stood or how it would all end; but with increasing frequency the
+words, "I love you now," haunted her waking and dreaming hours.
+
+The holidays were near again, and then came a letter from Marstern,
+asking her to take another sleigh-ride with him on Christmas Eve. His
+concluding words were: "There is no other woman in the world that I
+want on the other side of me." She kissed these words, then looked
+around in a startled, shamefaced manner, blushing even in the solitude
+of her room.
+
+Christmas Eve came, but with it a wild storm of wind and sleet. She was
+surprised at the depth of her disappointment. Would he even come to
+call through such a tempest?
+
+He did come, and come early; and she said demurely: "I did not expect
+you on such a night as this."
+
+He looked at her for a moment, half humorously, half seriously, and her
+eyes drooped before his. "You will know better what to expect next
+time," was his comment.
+
+"When is next time?"
+
+"Any and every time which gives me a chance to see you. Who should know
+that better than you?"
+
+"Are you never going to give up?" she asked with averted face.
+
+"Not till you become engaged."
+
+"Hush! They are all in the parlor."
+
+"Well, they ought to know as much, by this time, also."
+
+She thought it was astonishing how he made himself at home in the
+family circle. In half an hour there was scarcely any restraint left
+because a visitor was present. Yet, as if impelled by some mysterious
+influence, one after another slipped out; and Carrie saw with strange
+little thrills of dismay that she would soon be alone with that
+indomitable lawyer. She signalled to her mother, but the old lady's
+eyes were glued to her knitting.
+
+At last they were alone, and she expected a prompt and powerful appeal
+from the plaintiff; but Marstern drew his chair to the opposite side of
+the hearth and chatted so easily, naturally, and kindly that her
+trepidation passed utterly. It began to grow late, and a heavier gust
+than usual shook the house. It appeared to waken him to the dire
+necessity of breasting the gale, and he rose and said:
+
+"I feel as if I could sit here forever, Carrie. It's just the
+impression I had a year ago to-night. You, sitting there by the fire,
+gave then, and give now to this place the irresistible charm of home. I
+think I had then the decided beginning of the divine
+gravitation--wasn't that what you called it?--which has been growing so
+strong ever since. You thought then that the ice-water I waded was in
+my veins. Do you think so now? If you do I shall have to take another
+year to prove the contrary. Neither am I convinced of the absurdity of
+my course, as you put it then. I studied you coolly and deliberately
+before I began to love you, and reason and judgment have had no chance
+to jeer at my love."
+
+"But, Hedley," she began with a slight tremor in her tones, "you are
+idealizing me as certainly as the blindest. I've plenty of faults."
+
+"I haven't denied that; so have I plenty of faults. What right have I
+to demand a perfection I can't offer? I have known people to marry who
+imagined each other perfect, and then come to court for a separation on
+the ground of incompatibility of temperament. They learned the meaning
+of that long word too late, and were scarcely longer about it than the
+word itself. Now, I'm satisfied that I could cordially agree with you
+on some points and lovingly disagree with you on others. Chief of all
+it's your instinct to make a home. You appear better at your own
+fireside than when in full dress at a reception. You--"
+
+"See here, Hedley, you've got to give up this suit at last. I'm
+engaged," and she looked away as if she could not meet his eyes.
+
+"Engaged?" he said slowly, looking at her with startled eyes.
+
+"Well, about the same as engaged. My heart has certainly gone from me
+beyond recall." He drew a long breath. "I was foolish enough to begin
+to hope," he faltered.
+
+"You must dismiss hope to-night, then," she said, her face still
+averted.
+
+He was silent and she slowly turned toward him. He had sunk into a
+chair and buried his face in his hands, the picture of dejected defeat.
+
+There was a sudden flash of mirth through tear-gemmed eyes, a glance at
+the clock, then noiseless steps, and she was on her knees beside him,
+her arm about his neck, her blushing face near his wondering eyes as
+she breathed:
+
+"Happy Christmas, Hedley! How do you like your first gift; and what
+room is there now for hope?"
+
+
+
+
+THREE THANKSGIVING KISSES
+
+
+It was the day before Thanksgiving. The brief cloudy November afternoon
+was fast merging into early twilight. The trees, now gaunt and bare,
+creaked and groaned in the passing gale, clashing their icy branches
+together with sounds sadly unlike the slumberous rustle of their
+foliage in June. And that same foliage was now flying before the wind,
+swept hither and thither, like exiles driven by disaster from the
+moorings of home, at times finding a brief abiding-place, and then
+carried forward to parts unknown by circumstances beyond control. The
+street leading into the village was almost deserted; and the few who
+came and went hastened on with fluttering garments, head bent down, and
+a shivering sense of discomfort. The fields were bare and brown; and
+the landscape on the uplands rising in the distance would have been
+utterly sombre had not green fields of grain, like childlike faith in
+wintry age, relieved the gloomy outlook and prophesied of the sunshine
+and golden harvest of a new year and life.
+
+But bleak November found no admittance in Mrs. Alford's cosey parlor.
+Though, as usual, it was kept as the room for state occasions, it was
+not a stately room. It was furnished with elegance and good taste; but
+what was better, the genial home atmosphere from the rest of the house
+had invaded it, and one did not feel, on entering it from the
+free-and-easy sitting-room, as if passing from a sunny climate to the
+icebergs of the Pole. Therefore I am sure my reader will follow me
+gladly out of the biting, boisterous wind into the homelike apartment,
+and as we stand in fancy before the glowing grate, we will make the
+acquaintance of the May-day creature who is its sole occupant.
+
+Elsie Alford, just turning seventeen, appeared younger than her years
+warranted. Some girls carry the child far into their teens, and Head
+the mirthful innocence of infancy with the richer, fuller life of
+budding womanhood. This was true of Elsie. Hers was not the forced
+exotic bloom of fashionable life; but rather one of the native blossoms
+of her New England home, having all the delicacy and at the same time
+hardiness of the windflower. She was also as shy and easily agitated,
+and yet, like the flower she resembled, well rooted among the rocks of
+principle and truth. She was the youngest and the pet of the household,
+and yet the "petting" was not of that kind that develops selfishness
+and wilfulness, but rather a genial sunlight of love falling upon her
+as a focus from the entire family. They always spoke of her as "little
+Sis," or the "child." And a child it seemed she would ever be, with her
+kittenish ways, quick impulses, and swiftly alternating moods. As she
+developed into womanly proportions, her grave, businesslike father
+began to have misgivings. After one of her wild sallies at the table,
+where she kept every one on the qui vive by her unrestrained chatter,
+Mr. Alford said:
+
+"Elsie, will you ever learn to be a woman?"
+
+Looking mischievously at him through her curls, she replied, "Yes; I
+might if I became as old as Mrs. Methuselah."
+
+They finally concluded to leave Elsie's cure to care and trouble--two
+certain elements of earthly life; and yet her experience of either
+would be slight indeed, could their love shield her.
+
+But it would not be exactly care or trouble that would sober Elsie into
+a thoughtful woman, as our story will show.
+
+Some of the November wind seemed in her curling hair upon this fateful
+day; but her fresh young April face was a pleasant contrast to the
+scene presented from the window, to which she kept flitting with
+increasing frequency. It certainly was not the dismal and darkening
+landscape that so intensely interested her. The light of a great and
+coming pleasure was in her face, and her manner was one of restless,
+eager expectancy. Little wonder. Her pet brother, the one next older
+than herself, a promising young theologue, was coming home to spend
+Thanksgiving. It was time he appeared. The shriek of the locomotive had
+announced the arrival of the train; and her ardent little spirit could
+scarcely endure the moments intervening before she would almost
+concentrate herself into a rapturous kiss and embrace of welcome, for
+the favorite brother had been absent several long months.
+
+Her mother called her away for a few moments, for the good old lady was
+busy indeed, knowing well that merely full hearts would not answer for
+a New England Thanksgiving. But the moment Elsie was free she darted
+back to the window, just in time to catch a glimpse, as she supposed,
+of her brother's well-remembered dark-gray overcoat, as he was
+ascending the front steps.
+
+A tall, grave-looking young man, an utter stranger to the place and
+family, had his hand upon the doorbell; but before he could ring it,
+the door flew open, and a lovely young creature precipitated herself on
+his neck, like a missile fired from heavenly battlements, and a kiss
+was pressed upon his lips that he afterward admitted to have felt even
+to the "toes of his boots."
+
+But his startled manner caused her to lift her face from under his
+side-whiskers; and though the dusk was deepening, she could see that
+her arms were around an utter stranger. She recoiled from him with a
+bound, and trembling like a windflower indeed, her large blue eyes
+dilating at the intruder with a dismay beyond words. How the awkward
+scene would have ended it were hard to tell had not the hearty voice of
+one coming up the path called out:
+
+"Hi, there, you witch! who is that you are kissing, and then standing
+off to see the effect?"
+
+There was no mistake this time; so, impelled by love, shame, and fear
+of "that horrid man," she fled, half sobbing, to his arms.
+
+"No, he isn't a 'horrid man,' either," whispered her brother, laughing.
+"He is a classmate of mine. Why, Stanhope, how are you? I did not know
+that you and my sister were so well acquainted," he added, half
+banteringly and half curiously, for as yet he did not fully understand
+the scene.
+
+The hall-lamp, shining through the open door, had revealed the features
+of the young man (whom we must now call Mr. Stanhope), so that his
+classmate had recognized him. His first impulse had been to slip away
+in the darkness, and so escape from his awkward predicament; but George
+Alford's prompt address prevented this and brought him to bay. He was
+painfully embarrassed, but managed to stammer: "I was taken for you, I
+think. I never had the pleasure--honor of meeting your sister."
+
+"Oh, ho! I see now. My wild little sister kissed before she looked.
+Well, that was your good-fortune. I could keep two Thanksgiving days on
+the strength of such a kiss as that," cried the light-hearted student,
+shaking the diffident, shrinking Mr. Stanhope warmly by the hand. "You
+will hardly need a formal introduction now. But, bless me, where is
+she? Has the November wind blown her away?"
+
+"I think your sist--the lady passed around to the side entrance. I fear
+I have annoyed her sadly."
+
+"Nonsense! A good joke--something to tease the little witch about. But
+come in. I'm forgetting the sacred rites."
+
+And before the bewildered Mr. Stanhope could help himself, he was half
+dragged into the lighted hall, and the door shut between him and escape.
+
+In the meantime, Elsie, like a whirlwind, had burst into the kitchen,
+where Mrs. Alford was superintending some savory dishes.
+
+"Oh, mother, George has come and has a horrid man with him, who nearly
+devoured me."
+
+And, with this rather feminine mode of stating the case, she darted
+into the dusky, fire-lighted parlor, from whence, unseen, she could
+reconnoitre the hall. Mr. Stanhope was just saying:
+
+"Please let me go. I have stood between you and your welcome long
+enough. I shall only be an intruder; and besides, as an utter stranger,
+I have no right to stay." To all of which Elsie devoutly whispered to
+herself, "Amen."
+
+But Mrs. Alford now appeared, and after a warm, motherly greeting to
+her son, turned in genial courtesy to welcome his friend, as she
+supposed.
+
+George was so happy that he wished every one else to be the same. The
+comical episode attending Mr. Stanhope's unexpected appearance just hit
+his frolicsome mood, and promised to be a source of endless merriment
+if he could only keep his classmate over the coming holiday. Moreover,
+he long had wished to become better acquainted with this young man,
+whose manner at the seminary had deeply interested him. So he said:
+
+"Mother, this is Mr. Stanhope, a classmate of mine. I wish you would
+help me persuade him to stay."
+
+"Why, certainly, I supposed you expected to stay with us, of course,"
+said Mrs. Alford, heartily.
+
+Mr. Stanhope looked ready to sink through the floor, his face crimson
+with vexation.
+
+"I do assure you, madam," he urged, "it is all a mistake. I am not an
+invited guest. I was merely calling on a little matter of business,
+when--" and there he stopped. George exploded into a hearty,
+uncontrollable laugh; while Elsie, in the darkness, shook her little
+fist at the stranger, who hastened to add, "Please let me bid you
+good-evening, I have not the slightest claim on your hospitality."
+
+"Where are you staying?" asked Mrs. Alford, a little mystified. "We
+would like you to spend at least part of the time with us."
+
+"I do not expect to be here very long. I have a room at the hotel."
+
+"Now, look here, Stanhope," cried George, barring all egress by
+planting his back against the door, "do you take me, a half-fledged
+theologue, for a heathen? Do you suppose that I could be such a churl
+as to let a classmate stay at our dingy, forlorn little tavern and eat
+hash on Thanksgiving Day? I could never look you in the face at
+recitation again. Have some consideration for my peace of mind, and I
+am sure you will find our home quite as endurable as anything Mr.
+Starks can provide."
+
+"Oh! as to that, from even the slight glimpse that I have had, this
+seems more like a home than anything I have known for many years; but I
+cannot feel it right that I, an unexpected stranger--"
+
+"Come, come! No more of that! You know what is written about
+'entertaining strangers;' so that is your strongest claim. Moreover,
+that text works both ways sometimes, and the stranger angel finds
+himself among angels. My old mother here, if she does weigh well on
+toward two hundred, is more like one than anything I have yet seen, and
+Elsie, if not an angel, is at least part witch and part fairy. But you
+need not fear ghostly entertainment from mother's larder. As you are a
+Christian, and not a Pagan, no more of this reluctance. Indeed, nolens
+volens, I shall not permit you to go out into this November storm
+to-night;" and Elsie, to her dismay, saw the new-comer led up to the
+"spare room" with a sort of hospitable violence.
+
+With flaming cheeks and eyes half full of indignant tears, she now made
+onslaught on her mother, who had returned to the kitchen, where she was
+making preparations for a supper that might almost answer for the
+dinner the next day.
+
+"Mother, mother," she exclaimed, "how could you keep that disagreeable
+stranger! He will spoil our Thanksgiving."
+
+"Why, child, what is the matter?" said Mrs. Alford, raising her eyes in
+surprise to her daughter's face, that looked like a red moon through
+the mist of savory vapors rising from the ample cooking-stove. "I don't
+understand you. Why should not your brother's classmate add to the
+pleasure of our Thanksgiving?"
+
+"Well, perhaps if we had expected him, if he had come in some other
+way, and we knew more about him--"
+
+"Bless you, child, what a formalist you have become. You stand on a
+fine point of etiquette, as if it were the broad foundation of
+hospitality; while only last week you wanted a ragged tramp, who had
+every appearance of being a thief, to stay all night. Your brother
+thinks it a special providence that his friend should have turned up so
+unexpectedly."
+
+"Oh, dear!" sighed Elsie. "If that is what the doctrine of special
+providence means, I shall need a new confession of faith." Then, a
+sudden thought occurring to her, she vanished, while her mother smiled,
+saying:
+
+"What a queer child she is, to be sure!"
+
+A moment later Elsie gave a sharp knock at the spare room door, and in
+a second was in the further end of the dark hall. George put his head
+out.
+
+"Come here," she whispered. "Are you sure it's you?" she added, holding
+him off at arm's-length.
+
+His response was such a tempest of kisses and embraces that in her
+nervous state she was quite panic-stricken.
+
+"George," she gasped, "have mercy on me!"
+
+"I only wished to show you how he felt, so you would have some sympathy
+for him."
+
+"If you don't stop," said the almost desperate girl, "I will shut
+myself up and not appear till he is gone. I will any way, if you don't
+make me a solemn promise."
+
+"Leave out the 'solemn.'"
+
+"No, I won't. Upon your word and honor, promise never to tell what has
+happened--my mistake, I mean."
+
+"Oh, Elsie, it's too good to keep," laughed George.
+
+"Now, George, if you tell," sobbed Elsie, "you'll spoil my holiday,
+your visit, and everything."
+
+"If you feel that way, you foolish child, of course I won't tell.
+Indeed, I suppose I should not, for Stanhope seems half frightened out
+of his wits also."
+
+"Serves him right, though I doubt whether he has many to lose," said
+Elsie, spitefully.
+
+"Well, I will do my best to keep in," said George, soothingly, and
+stroking her curls. "But you will let it all out; you see. The idea of
+your keeping anything with your April face!"
+
+Elsie acted upon the hint, and went to her room in order to remove all
+traces of agitation before the supper-bell should summon her to meet
+the dreaded stranger.
+
+In the meantime, Mr. Alford and James, the second son, had come up from
+the village, where they had a thriving business. They greeted George's
+friend so cordially that it went some way toward putting the diffident
+youth at his ease; but he dreaded meeting Elsie again quite as much as
+she dreaded meeting him.
+
+"Who is this Mr. Stanhope?" his parents asked, as they drew George
+aside for a little private talk after his long absence.
+
+"Well, he is a classmate with whom I have long wished to get better
+acquainted; but he is so shy and retiring that I have made little
+progress. He came from another seminary, and entered our class in this
+the middle year. No one seems to know much about him; and indeed he has
+shunned all intimacies and devotes himself wholly to his books. The
+recitation-room is the one place where he appears well--for there he
+speaks out, as if forgetting himself, or rather, losing himself in some
+truth under contemplation. Sometimes he will ask a question that wakes
+up both class and professor; but at other times it seems difficult to
+pierce the shell of his reserve or diffidence. And yet, from little
+things I have seen, I know that he has a good warm heart; and the
+working of his mind in the recitation-room fascinates me. Further than
+this I know little about him, but have just learned, from his
+explanation as to his unexpected appearance at our door, that he is
+very poor, and purposed to spend his holiday vacation as agent for a
+new magazine that is offering liberal premiums. I think his poverty is
+one of the reasons why he has so shrunk from companionship with the
+other students. He thinks he ought to go out and continue his efforts
+tonight."
+
+"This stormy night!" ejaculated kind Mrs. Alford. "It would be
+barbarous."
+
+"Certainly it would, mother. We must not let him. But you must all be
+considerate, for he seems excessively diffident and sensitive; and
+besides--but no matter."
+
+"No fear but that we will soon make him at home. And it's a pleasure to
+entertain people who are not surfeited with attention. I don't
+understand Elsie, however, for she seems to have formed a violent
+prejudice against him. From the nature of her announcement of his
+presence I gathered that he was a rather forward young man."
+
+There was a twinkle in George's eye; but he merely said:
+
+"Elsie is full of moods and tenses; but her kind little heart is always
+the same, and that will bring her around all right."
+
+They were soon after marshalled to the supper-room. Elsie slipped in
+among the others, but was so stately and demure, and with her curls
+brushed down so straight that you would scarcely have known her. Her
+father caught his pet around the waist, and was about to introduce her,
+when George hastened to say with the solemnity of an undertaker that
+Elsie and Mr. Stanhope had met before.
+
+Elsie repented the promise she had wrung from her brother, for any
+amount of badinage would be better than this depressing formality. She
+took her seat, not daring to look at the obnoxious guest; and the
+family noticed with surprise that they had never seen the little maiden
+so quenched and abashed before. But George good-naturedly tried to make
+the conversation general, so as to give them time to recover themselves.
+
+Elsie soon ventured to steal shy looks at Mr. Stanhope, and with her
+usual quickness discovered that he was more in terror of her than she
+of him, and she exulted in the fact.
+
+"I'll punish him well, if I get a chance," she thought with a certain
+phase of the feminine sense of justice. But the sadness of his face
+quite disarmed her when her mother, in well-meant kindness, asked:
+
+"Where is your home located, Mr. Stanhope?"
+
+"In the seminary," he answered in rather a low tone.
+
+"You don't mean to say that you have no better one than a forlorn cell
+in Dogma Hall?" exclaimed George, earnestly.
+
+Mr. Stanhope crimsoned, and then grew pale, but tried to say lightly,
+"An orphan of my size and years is not a very moving object of
+sympathy; but one might well find it difficult not to break the Tenth
+Commandment while seeing how you are surrounded."
+
+Elsie was vexed at her disposition to relent toward him; she so
+hardened her face, however, that James rallied her:
+
+"Why, Puss, what is the matter? Yours is the most unpromising
+Thanksgiving phiz I have seen today. 'Count your marcies.'"
+
+Elsie blushed so violently, and Mr. Stanhope looked so distressed that
+James finished his supper in puzzled silence, thinking, however, "What
+has come over the little witch? For a wonder, she seems to have met a
+man that she is afraid of: but the joke is, he seems even more afraid
+of her."
+
+In the social parlor some of the stiffness wore off; but Elsie and Mr.
+Stanhope kept on opposite sides of the room and had very little to say
+to each other. Motherly Mrs. Alford drew the young man out
+sufficiently, however, to become deeply interested in him.
+
+By the next morning time for thought had led him to feel that he must
+trespass on their hospitality no longer. Moreover, he plainly
+recognized that his presence was an oppression and restraint upon
+Elsie; and he was very sorry that he had stayed at all. But when he
+made known his purpose the family would not listen to it.
+
+"I should feel dreadfully hurt if you left us now," said Mrs. Alford,
+so decidedly that he was in a dilemma, and stole a timid look toward
+Elsie, who at once guessed his motive in going away. Her kind heart got
+the better of her; and her face relented in a sudden reassuring smile.
+Then she turned hastily away. Only George saw and understood the little
+side scene and the reason Mr. Stanhope was induced to remain. Then
+Elsie, in her quickly varying moods, was vexed at herself, and became
+more cold and distant than ever. "He will regard me as only a pert,
+forward miss, but I will teach him better," she thought; and she
+astonished the family more and more by a stateliness utterly unlike
+herself. Mr. Stanhope sincerely regretted that he had not broken away,
+in spite of the others; but in order not to seem vacillating he
+resolved to stay till the following morning, even though he departed
+burdened with the thought that he had spoiled the day for one of the
+family. Things had now gone so far that leaving might only lead to
+explanations and more general annoyances, for George had intimated that
+the little mistake of the previous evening should remain a secret.
+
+And yet he sincerely wished she would relent toward him, for she could
+not make her sweet little face repellent. The kiss she had given him
+still seemed to tingle in his very soul, while her last smile was like
+a ray of warmest sunshine. But her face, never designed to be severe,
+was averted.
+
+After having heard the affairs of the nation discussed in a sound,
+scriptural manner, they all sat down to a dinner such as had never
+blessed poor Mr. Stanhope's vision before. A married son and daughter
+returned after church, and half a dozen grandchildren enlivened the
+gathering. There was need of them, for Elsie, usually in a state of
+wild effervescence upon such occasions, was now demure and
+comparatively silent. The children, with whom she was accustomed to
+romp like one of them, were perplexed indeed; and only the intense
+excitement of a Thanksgiving dinner diverted their minds from Aunt
+Elsie, so sadly changed. She was conscious that all were noting her
+absent manner, and this embarrassed and vexed her more; and yet she
+seemed under a miserable paralysis that she could neither explain nor
+escape.
+
+"If we had only laughed it off at first," she groaned to herself; "but
+now the whole thing grows more absurd and disagreeable every moment."
+
+"Why, Elsie," said her father, banteringly, "you doubted the other day
+whether Mrs. Methuselah's age would ever sober you; and yet I think
+that good old lady would have looked more genial on Thanksgiving Day.
+What is the matter?"
+
+"I was thinking of the sermon," she said.
+
+Amid the comic elevation of eyebrows, George said slyly:
+
+"Tell us the text."
+
+Overwhelmed with confusion, she darted a reproachful glance at him and
+muttered:
+
+"I did not say anything about the text."
+
+"Well, tell us about the sermon then," laughed James.
+
+"No," said Elsie, sharply. "I'll quote you a text: 'Eat, drink, and be
+merry,' and let me alone."
+
+They saw that for some reason she could not bear teasing, and that such
+badinage troubled Mr. Stanhope also. George came gallantly to the
+rescue, and the dinner-party grew so merry that Elsie thawed
+perceptibly and Stanhope was beguiled into several witty speeches. At
+each one Elsie opened her eyes in wider and growing appreciation. At
+last, when they rose from their coffee, she come to the surprising
+conclusion--
+
+"Why, he is not stupid and bad-looking after all."
+
+George was bent on breaking the ice between them, and so proposed that
+the younger members of the family party should go up a swollen stream
+and see the fall. But Elsie flanked herself with a sister-in-law on one
+side and a niece on the other, while Stanhope was so diffident that
+nothing but downright encouragement would bring him to her side. So
+George was almost in despair. Elsie's eyes had been conveying favorable
+impressions to her reluctant mind throughout the walk. She sincerely
+regretted that such an absurd barrier had grown up between her and
+Stanhope, but could not for the life of her, especially before others,
+do anything to break the awkward spell.
+
+At last they were on their return, and were all grouped together on a
+little bluff, watching the water pour foamingly through a narrow gorge.
+
+"Oh, see," cried Elsie, suddenly pointing to the opposite bank, "what
+beautiful moss that is over there! It is just the kind I have been
+wanting. Oh, dear! there isn't a bridge within half a mile."
+
+Stanhope glanced around a moment, and then said gallantly, "I will get
+you the moss, Miss Alford." They saw that in some inconceivable way he
+intended crossing where they stood. The gorge was much too wide for the
+most vigorous leap, so Elsie exclaimed eagerly:
+
+"Oh, please don't take any risk! What is a little moss?"
+
+"I say, Stanhope," remonstrated George, seriously, "it would be no
+laughing matter if you should fall in there."
+
+But Stanhope only smiled, threw off his overcoat, and buttoned his
+undercoat closely around him. George groaned to himself, "This will be
+worse than the kissing scrape," and was about to lay a restraining
+grasp upon his friend. But he slipped away, and lightly went up
+hand-over-hand a tall, slender sapling on the edge of the bank, the
+whole party gathering round in breathless expectation. Having reached
+its slender, swaying top, he threw himself out on the land side. The
+tree bent at once to the ground with his weight, but without snapping,
+showing that it was tough and fibrous. Holding firmly to the top, he
+gave a strong spring, which, with the spring of the bent sapling, sent
+him well over the gorge on the firm ground beyond.
+
+There was a round of applause from the little group he had just left,
+in which Elsie joined heartily. Her eyes were glowing with admiration,
+for when was not power and daring captivating to a woman? Then, in
+sudden alarm and forgetfulness of her former coolness, she exclaimed:
+
+"But how will you get back?"
+
+"This is my bridge," he replied, smiling brightly across to her, and
+holding on to the slender young tree. "You perceive that I was brought
+up in the country."
+
+So saying, he tied the sapling down to a root with a handkerchief, and
+then proceeded to fill another with moss.
+
+As George saw Elsie's face while she watched Stanhope gather the
+coveted trifle, he chuckled to himself--
+
+"The ice is broken between them now."
+
+But Stanhope had insecurely fastened the sapling down. The strain upon
+the knot was too severe, and suddenly the young tree flew up and stood
+erect but quivering, with his handkerchief fluttering in its top as a
+symbol of defeat. There was an exclamation of dismay and Elsie again
+asked with real anxiety in her tone:
+
+"How will you get back now?"
+
+Stanhope shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I confess I am defeated, for there is no like sapling on this side;
+but I have the moss, and can join you at the bridge below, if nothing
+better offers."
+
+"George," said Elsie, indignantly, "don't go away and leave Mr.
+Stanhope's handkerchief in that tree."
+
+"Bless you, child," cried George, mischievously, and leading the way
+down the path, "I can't climb anymore than a pumpkin. You will have to
+go back with him after it, or let it wave as a memento of his gallantry
+on your behalf."
+
+"If I can only manage to throw them together without any embarrassing
+third parties present, the ridiculous restraint they are under will
+soon vanish," he thought; and so he hastened his steps. The rest
+trooped after him, while Stanhope made his way with difficulty on the
+opposite bank, where there was no path. His progress therefore was
+slow; and Elsie saw that if she did not linger he would be left behind.
+Common politeness forbade this, and so she soon found herself alone,
+carrying his overcoat on one bank, and he keeping pace with her on the
+other. She comforted herself at first with the thought that with the
+brawling, deafening stream between them, there would be no chance for
+embarrassing conversation. But soon her sympathies became aroused, as
+she saw him toilsomely making his way over the rocks and through the
+tangled thickets: and as she could not speak to him, she smiled her
+encouragement so often that she felt it would be impossible to go back
+to her old reserve.
+
+Stanhope now came to a little opening in the brush. The cleared ground
+sloped evenly down to the stream, and its current was divided by a
+large rock. He hailed the opportunity here offered with delight, for he
+was very anxious to speak to her before they should join the others. So
+he startled Elsie by walking out into the clearing, away from the
+stream.
+
+"Well, I declare; that's cool, to go and leave me alone without a
+word," she thought.
+
+But she was almost terror-stricken to see him turn and dart to the
+torrent like an arrow. With a long flying leap, he landed on the rock
+in the midst of the stream, and then, without a second's hesitation,
+with the impetus already acquired, sprang for the solid ground where
+she stood, struck it, wavered, and would have fallen backward into the
+water had not she, quick as thought, stepped forward and given him her
+hand.
+
+"You have saved me from a ducking, if not worse," he said, giving the
+little rescuing hand a warm pressure.
+
+"Oh!" exclaimed she, panting, "please don't do any more dreadful
+things. I shall be careful how I make any wishes in your hearing again."
+
+"I am sorry to hear you say that," he replied. And then there was an
+awkward silence.
+
+Elsie could think of nothing better than to refer to the handkerchief
+they had left behind.
+
+"Will you wait for me till I run and get it?" he asked.
+
+"I will go back with you, if you will permit me," she said timidly.
+
+"Indeed, I could not ask so much of you as that."
+
+"And yet you could about the same as risk your neck to gratify a whim
+of mine," she said more gratefully than she intended.
+
+"Please do not think," he replied earnestly, "that I have been
+practicing cheap heroics. As I said, I was a country boy, and in my
+early home thought nothing of doing such things." But even the brief
+reference to that vanished home caused him to sigh deeply, and Elsie
+gave him a wistful look of sympathy.
+
+For a few moments they walked on in silence. Then Mr. Stanhope turned,
+and with some hesitation said:
+
+"Miss Alford, I did very wrong to stay after--after last evening. But
+my better judgment was borne down by invitations so cordial that I
+hardly knew how to resist them. At the same time I now realize that I
+should have done so. Indeed, I would go away at once, would not such a
+course only make matters worse. And yet, after receiving so much
+kindness from your family, more than has blessed me for many long
+years--for since my dear mother died I have been quite alone in the
+world--I feel I cannot go away without some assurance or proof that you
+will forgive me for being such a kill-joy in your holiday."
+
+Elsie's vexation with herself now knew no bounds. She stopped in the
+path, determining that she would clear up matters, cost what it might.
+
+"Mr. Stanhope," she said, "will you grant a request that will contain
+such assurance, or rather, will show you that I am heartily ashamed of
+my foolish course? Will you not spend next Thanksgiving with us, and
+give me a chance to retrieve myself from first to last?"
+
+His face brightened wonderfully as he replied, "I will only be too glad
+to do so, if you truly wish it."
+
+"I do wish it," she said earnestly. "What must you think of me?" (His
+eyes then expressed much admiration; but hers were fixed on the ground
+and half filled with tears of vexation.) Then, with a pretty humility
+that was exquisite in its simplicity and artlessness, she added:
+
+"You have noticed at home that they call me 'child'--and indeed, I am
+little more than one--and now see that I have behaved like a very silly
+and naughty one toward you. I have trampled on every principle of
+hospitality, kindness, and good-breeding. I have no patience with
+myself, and I wish another chance to show that I can do better. I--"
+
+"Oh, Miss Alford, please do not judge yourself so harshly and
+unjustly," interrupted Stanhope.
+
+"Oh, dear!" sighed Elsie, "I'm so sorry for what happened last night.
+We all might have had such a good time."
+
+"Well, then," said Stanhope, demurely, "I suppose I ought to be also."
+
+"And do you mean to say that you are not?" she asked, turning suddenly
+upon him.
+
+"Oh, well, certainly, for your sake," he said with rising color.
+
+"But not for your own?" she asked with almost the naivete of a child.
+
+He turned away with a perplexed laugh and replied: "Really, Miss
+Alford, you are worse than the Catechism."
+
+She looked at him with a half-amused, half-surprised expression, the
+thought occurring to her for the first time that it might not have been
+so disagreeable to him after all; and somehow this thought was quite a
+relief to her. But she said: "I thought you would regard me as a hoyden
+of the worst species."
+
+"Because you kissed your brother? I have never for a moment forgotten
+that it was only your misfortune that I was not he."
+
+"I should have remembered that it was not your fault. But here is your
+handkerchief, flying like a flag of truce; so let bygones be bygones.
+My terms are that you come again another year, and give me a chance to
+entertain my brother's friend as a sister ought."
+
+"I am only too glad to submit to them," he eagerly replied, and then
+added, so ardently as to deepen the roses already in her cheeks, "If
+such are your punishments, Miss Alford, how delicious must be your
+favors!"
+
+By common consent the subject was dropped; and with tongues released
+from awkward restraint, they chatted freely together, till in the early
+twilight they reached her home. The moment they entered George
+exultingly saw that the skies were serene.
+
+But Elsie would never be the frolicsome child of the past again. As she
+surprised the family at dinner, so now at supper they could scarcely
+believe that the elegant, graceful young lady was the witch of
+yesterday. She had resolved with all her soul to try to win some place
+in Mr. Stanhope's respect before he departed, and never did a little
+maiden succeed better.
+
+In the evening they had music; and Mr. Stanhope pleased them all with
+his fine tenor, while Elsie delighted him by her clear, birdlike voice.
+So the hours fled away.
+
+"You think better of the 'horrid man,' little Sis," said George, as he
+kissed her good-night.
+
+"I was the horrid one," said Elsie, penitently. "I can never forgive
+myself my absurd conduct. But he has promised to come again next
+Thanksgiving, and give me a chance to do better; so don't you fail to
+bring him."
+
+George gave a long, low whistle, and then said: "Oh! ah! Seems to me
+you are coming on, for an innocent. Are we to get mixed up again in the
+twilight?"
+
+"Nonsense!" said Elsie, with a peony face, and she slammed her door
+upon him.
+
+The next morning the young man took his leave, and Elsie's last words
+were:
+
+"Mr. Stanhope, remember your promise."
+
+And he did remember more than that, for this brief visit had enshrined
+a sweet, girlish face within his heart of hearts, and he no longer felt
+lonely and orphaned. He and George became the closest friends, and
+messages from the New England home came to him with increasing
+frequency, which he returned with prodigal interest. It also transpired
+that he occasionally wrote for the papers, and Elsie insisted that
+these should be sent to her; while he of course wrote much better with
+the certainty that she would be his critic. Thus, though separated,
+they daily became better acquainted, and during the year George found
+it not very difficult to induce his friend to make several visits.
+
+But it was with joy that seemed almost too rich for earthly experience
+that he found himself walking up the village street with George the
+ensuing Thanksgiving Eve. Elsie was at the door; and he pretended to be
+disconsolate that his reception was not the same as on the previous
+year. Indeed she had to endure not a little chaffing, for her mistake
+was a family joke now.
+
+It was a peerless Thanksgiving eve and day--one of the sun-lighted
+heights of human happiness.
+
+After dinner they all again took a walk up the brawling stream, and
+Stanhope and Elsie became separated from the rest, though not so
+innocently as on the former occasion.
+
+"See!" cried Elsie, pointing to the well-remembered sapling, which she
+had often visited. "There fluttered our flag of truce last year."
+
+Stanhope seized her hand and said eagerly: "And here I again break the
+truce, and renew the theme we dropped at this place. Oh, Elsie, I have
+felt that kiss in the depths of my heart every hour since; and in that
+it led to my knowing and loving you, it has made every day from that
+time one of thanksgiving. If you could return my love, as I have dared
+to hope, it would be a happiness beyond words. If I could venture to
+take one more kiss, as a token that it is returned, I could keep
+Thanksgiving forever."
+
+Her hand trembled in his, but was not withdrawn. Her blushing face was
+turned away toward the brawling stream; but she saw not its foam, she
+heard not its hoarse murmurs. A sweeter music was in her ears. She
+seemed under a delicious spell, but soon became conscious that a pair
+of dark eyes were looking down eagerly, anxiously for her answer. Shyly
+raising hers, that now were like dewy violets, she said, with a little
+of her old witchery:
+
+"I suppose you will have to kiss me this Thanksgiving, to make things
+even."
+
+Stanhope needed no broader hint.
+
+"I owe you a heavy grudge," said Mr. Alford, in the evening. "A year
+ago you robbed me of my child, for little, kittenish Elsie became a
+thoughtful woman from the day you were here; and now you are going to
+take away the daughter of my old age."
+
+"Yes, indeed, husband. Now you know how my father felt," said Mrs.
+Alford, at the same time wiping something from the corner of her eye.
+
+"Bless me, are you here?" said the old gentleman, wheeling round to his
+wife. "Mr. Stanhope, I have nothing more to say."
+
+"I declare," exulted George, "that 'horrid man' will devour Elsie yet."
+
+"Haw! haw! haw!" laughed big-voiced, big-hearted James. "The idea of
+our little witch of an Elsie being a minister's wife!"
+
+      *       *       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It is again Thanksgiving Eve. The trees are gaunt, the fields bare and
+brown, with dead leaves whirling across them; but a sweeter than June
+sunshine seems filling the cosey parlor where Elsie, a radiant bride,
+is receiving her husband's first kiss almost on the moment that she
+with her lips so unexpectedly kindled the sacred fire, three years
+before.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+SUSIE ROLLIFFE'S CHRISTMAS
+
+
+Picnicking in December would be a dreary experience even if one could
+command all the appliances of comfort which outdoor life permitted.
+This would be especially true in the latitude of Boston and on the
+bleak hills overlooking that city and its environing waters. Dreary
+business indeed Ezekiel Watkins regarded it as he shivered over the
+smoky camp-fire which he maintained with difficulty. The sun was
+sinking into the southwest so early in the day that he remarked
+irritably: "Durned if it was worth while for it to rise at all."
+
+Ezekiel Watkins, or Zeke, as he was generally known among his comrades,
+had ceased to be a resident on that rocky hillside from pleasure. His
+heart was in a Connecticut valley in more senses than one; and there
+was not a more homesick soldier in the army. It will be readily guessed
+that the events of our story occurred more than a century ago. The
+shots fired at Bunker Hill had echoed in every nook and corner of the
+New England colonies, and the heart of Zeke Watkins, among thousands of
+others, had been fired with military ardor. With companions in like
+frame of mind he had trudged to Boston, breathing slaughter and
+extermination against the red-coated instruments of English tyranny. To
+Zeke the expedition had many of the elements of an extended bear-hunt,
+much exalted. There was a spice of danger and a rich promise of novelty
+and excitement. The march to the lines about Boston had been a
+continuous ovation; grandsires came out from the wayside dwellings and
+blessed the rustic soldiers; they were dined profusely by the
+housewives, and if not wined, there had been slight stint in New
+England rum and cider; the apple-cheeked daughters of the land gave
+them the meed of heroes in advance, and abated somewhat of their ruddy
+hues at the thought of the dangers to be incurred. Zeke was visibly
+dilated by all this attention, incense, and military glory; and he
+stepped forth from each village and hamlet as if the world were
+scarcely large enough for the prowess of himself and companions. Even
+on parade he was as stiff as his long-barrelled flintlock, looking as
+if England could hope for no quarter at his hands; yet he permitted no
+admiring glances from bright eyes to escape him. He had not traversed
+half the distance between his native hamlet and Boston before he was
+abundantly satisfied that pretty Susie Rolliffe had made no mistake in
+honoring him among the recruits by marks of especial favor. He wore in
+his squirrel-skin cap the bit of blue ribbon she had given him, and
+with the mien of a Homeric hero had intimated darkly that it might be
+crimson before she saw it again. She had clasped her hands, stifled a
+little sob, and looked at him admiringly. He needed no stronger
+assurance than her eyes conveyed at that moment. She had been shy and
+rather unapproachable before, sought by others than himself, yet very
+chary of her smiles and favors to all. Her ancestors had fought the
+Indians, and had bequeathed to the demure little maiden much of their
+own indomitable spirit. She had never worn her heart on her sleeve, and
+was shy of her rustic admirers chiefly because none of them had
+realized her ideals of manhood created by fireside stories of the past.
+
+Zeke's chief competitor for Susie's favor had been Zebulon Jarvis; and
+while he had received little encouragement, he laid his unostentatious
+devotion at her feet unstintedly, and she knew it. Indeed, she was much
+inclined to laugh at him, for he was singularly bashful, and a frown
+from her overwhelmed him. Unsophisticated Susie reasoned that any one
+who could be so afraid of HER could not be much of a man. She had never
+heard of his doing anything bold and spirited. It might be said,
+indeed, that the attempt to wring a livelihood for his widowed mother
+and for his younger brothers and sisters from the stumpy, rocky farm
+required courage of the highest order; but it was not of a kind that
+appealed to the fancy of a romantic young girl. Nothing finer or
+grander had Zebulon attempted before the recruiting officer came to
+Opinquake, and when he came, poor Zeb appeared to hang back so
+timorously that he lost what little place he had in Susie's thoughts.
+She was ignorant of the struggle taking place in his loyal heart. More
+intense even than his love for her was the patriotic fire which
+smouldered in his breast; yet when other young men were giving in their
+names and drilling on the village green, he was absent. To the war
+appeals of those who sought him, he replied briefly. "Can't leave till
+fall."
+
+"But the fighting will be over long before that," it was urged.
+
+"So much the better for others, then, if not for me."
+
+Zeke Watkins made it his business that Susie should hear this reply in
+the abbreviated form of, "So much the better, then."
+
+She had smiled scornfully, and it must be added, a little bitterly. In
+his devotion Zeb had been so helpless, so diffidently unable to take
+his own part and make advances that she, from odd little spasms of
+sympathy, had taken his part for him, and laughingly repeated to
+herself in solitude all the fine speeches which she perceived he would
+be glad to make. But, as has been intimated, it seemed to her droll
+indeed that such a great stalwart fellow should appear panic-stricken
+in her diminutive presence. In brief, he had been timidity embodied
+under her demurely mischievous blue eyes; and now that the recruiting
+officer had come and marched away with his squad without him, she felt
+incensed that such a chicken-hearted fellow had dared to lift his eyes
+to her.
+
+"It would go hard with the Widow Jarvis and all those children if Zeb
+'listed," Susie's mother had ventured in half-hearted defence, for did
+she not look upon him as a promising suitor.
+
+"The people of Opinquake wouldn't let the widow or the children
+starve," replied Susie, indignantly. "If I was a big fellow like him,
+my country would not call me twice. Think how grandfather left grandma
+and all the children!"
+
+"Well, I guess Zeb thinks he has his hands full wrastling with that
+stony farm."
+
+"He needn't come to see me any more, or steal glances at me 'tween
+meetings on Sunday," said the girl, decisively. "He cuts a sorry figure
+beside Zeke Watkins, who was the first to give in his name, and who
+began to march like a soldier even before he left us."
+
+"Yes," said Mrs. Rolliffe; "Zeke was very forward. If he holds out as
+he began--Well, well, Zeke allus was a little forward, and able to
+speak for himself. You are young yet, Susan, and may learn before you
+reach my years that the race isn't allus to the swift. Don't be in
+haste to promise yourself to any of the young men."
+
+"Little danger of my promising myself to a man who is afraid even of
+me! I want a husband like grandfather. He wasn't afraid to face
+anything, and he honored his wife by acting as if she wasn't afraid
+either."
+
+Zeb gave Susie no chance to bestow the rebuffs she had premeditated. He
+had been down to witness the departure of the Opinquake quota, and had
+seen Susie's farewell to Zeke Watkins. How much it had meant he was not
+sure--enough to leave no hope or chance for him, he had believed; but
+he had already fought his first battle, and it had been a harder one
+than Zeke Watkins or any of his comrades would ever engage in. He had
+returned and worked on the stony farm until dark. From dawn until dark
+he continued to work every secular day till September.
+
+His bronzed face grew as stern as it was thin; and since he would no
+longer look at her, Susie Rolliffe began to steal an occasional and
+wondering glance at him "'tween meetings."
+
+No one understood the young man or knew his plans except his patient,
+sad-eyed mother, and she learned more by her intuitions than from his
+spoken words. She idolized him, and he loved and revered her: but the
+terrible Puritan restraint paralyzed manifestations of affection. She
+was not taken by surprise when one evening he said quietly, "Mother, I
+guess I'll start in a day or two."
+
+She could not repress a sort of gasping sob however, but after a few
+moments was able to say steadily, "I supposed you were preparing to
+leave us."
+
+"Yes, mother, I've been a-preparing. I've done my best to gather in
+everything that would help keep you and the children and the stock
+through the winter. The corn is all shocked, and the older children can
+help you husk it, and gather in the pumpkins, the beans, and the rest.
+As soon as I finish digging the potatoes I think I'll feel better to be
+in the lines around Boston. I'd have liked to have gone at first, but
+in order to fight as I ought I'd want to remember there was plenty to
+keep you and the children."
+
+"I'm afraid, Zebulon, you've been fighting as well as working so hard
+all summer long. For my sake and the children's, you've been letting
+Susan Rolliffe think meanly of you."
+
+"I can't help what she thinks, mother; I've tried not to act meanly."
+
+"Perhaps the God of the widow and the fatherless will shield and bless
+you, my son. Be that as it may," she added with a heavy sigh,
+"conscience and His will must guide in everything. If He says go forth
+to battle, what am I that I should stay you?" Although she did not
+dream of the truth, the Widow Jarvis was a disciplined soldier herself.
+To her, faith meant unquestioning submission and obedience; she had
+been taught to revere a jealous and an exacting God rather than a
+loving one. The heroism with which she pursued her toilsome, narrow,
+shadowed pathway was as sublime as it was unrecognized on her part.
+After she had retired she wept sorely, not only because her eldest
+child was going to danger, and perhaps death, but also for the reason
+that her heart clung to him so weakly and selfishly, as she believed.
+With a tenderness of which she was half-ashamed she filled his wallet
+with provisions which would add to his comfort, then, both to his
+surprise and her own, kissed him good-by. He left her and the younger
+brood with an aching heart of which there was little outward sign, and
+with no loftier ambition than to do his duty; she followed him with
+deep, wistful eyes till he, and next the long barrel of his rifle,
+disappeared in an angle of the road, and then her interrupted work was
+resumed.
+
+Susie Rolliffe was returning from an errand to a neighbor's when she
+heard the sound of long rapid steps.
+
+A hasty glance revealed Zeb in something like pursuit. Her heart
+fluttered slightly, for he had looked so stern and sad of late that she
+had felt a little sorry for him in spite of herself. But since he could
+"wrastle" with nothing more formidable than a stony farm, she did not
+wish to have anything to say to him, or meet the embarrassment of
+explaining a tacit estrangement. She was glad, therefore, that her gate
+was so near, and passed in as if she had not recognized him. She heard
+his steps become slower and pause at the gate, and then almost in shame
+in being guilty of too marked discourtesy, she turned to speak, but
+hesitated in surprise, for now she recognized his equipment as a
+soldier.
+
+"Why, Mr. Jarvis, where are you going?" she exclaimed.
+
+A dull red flamed through the bronze of his thin cheeks as he replied
+awkwardly, "I thought I'd take a turn in the lines around Boston."
+
+"Oh, yes," she replied, mischievously, "take a turn in the lines. Then
+we may expect you back by corn-husking?"
+
+He was deeply wounded, and in his embarrassment could think of no other
+reply than the familiar words, "'Let not him that girdeth on his
+harness boast himself as he that putteth it off.'"
+
+"I can't help hoping, Mr. Jarvis, that neither you nor others will put
+it off too soon--not, at least, while King George claims to be our
+master. When we're free I can stand any amount of boasting."
+
+"You'll never hear boasting from me, Miss Susie;" and then an awkward
+silence fell between them.
+
+Shyly and swiftly she raised her eyes. He looked so humble,
+deprecatory, and unsoldier-like that she could not repress a laugh.
+"I'm not a British cannon," she began, "that you should be so fearful."
+
+His manhood was now too deeply wounded for further endurance even from
+her, for he suddenly straightened himself, and throwing his rifle over
+his shoulder, said sternly, "I'm not a coward. I never hung back from
+fear, but to keep mother from charity, so I could fight or die as God
+wills. You may laugh at the man who never gave you anything but love,
+if you will, but you shall never laugh at my deeds. Call that boasting
+or not as you please," and he turned on his heel to depart.
+
+His words and manner almost took away the girl's breath, so unexpected
+were they, and unlike her idea of the man. In that brief moment a
+fearless soldier had flashed himself upon her consciousness, revealing
+a spirit that would flinch at nothing--that had not even quailed at the
+necessity of forfeiting her esteem, that his mother might not want.
+Humiliated and conscience-stricken that she had done him so much
+injustice, she rushed forward, crying, "Stop, Zebulon; please do not go
+away angry with me! I do not forget that we have been old friends and
+playmates. I'm willing to own that I've been wrong about you, and
+that's a good deal for a girl to do. I only wish I were a man, and I'd
+go with you."
+
+Her kindness restored him to his awkward self again, and he stammered,
+"I wish you were--no, I don't--I merely stopped, thinking you might
+have a message; but I'd rather not take any to Zeke Watkins--will,
+though, if you wish. It cut me all up to have you think I was afraid,"
+and then he became speechless.
+
+"But you acted as if you were afraid of me, and that seemed so
+ridiculous."
+
+He looked at her a moment so earnestly with his dark, deep-set eyes
+that hers dropped. "Miss Susie," he said slowly, and speaking with
+difficulty, "I AM afraid of you, next to God. I don't suppose I've any
+right to talk to you so, and I will say good-by. I was reckless when I
+spoke before. Perhaps--you'll go and see mother. My going is hard on
+her."
+
+His eyes lingered on her a moment longer, as if he were taking his last
+look, then he turned slowly away.
+
+"Good-by, Zeb," she called softly. "I didn't--I don't understand. Yes,
+I will go to see your mother."
+
+Susie also watched him as he strode away. He thought he could continue
+on steadfastly without looking back, but when the road turned he also
+turned, fairly tugged right about by his loyal heart. She stood where
+he had left her, and promptly waved her hand. He doffed his cap, and
+remained a moment in an attitude that appeared to her reverential, then
+passed out of view.
+
+The moments lapsed, and still she stood in the gateway, looking down
+the vacant road as if dazed. Was it in truth awkward, bashful Zeb
+Jarvis who had just left her? He seemed a new and distinct being in
+contrast to the youth whom she had smiled at and in a measure scoffed
+at. The little Puritan maiden was not a reasoner, but a creature of
+impressions and swift intuitions. Zeb had not set his teeth, faced his
+hard duty, and toiled that long summer in vain. He had developed a
+manhood and a force which in one brief moment had enabled him to compel
+her recognition.
+
+"He will face anything," she murmured. "He's afraid of only God and me;
+what a strange thing to say--afraid of me next to God! Sounds kind of
+wicked. What can he mean? Zeke Watkins wasn't a bit afraid of me. As
+mother said, he was a little forward, and I was fool enough to take him
+at his own valuation. Afraid of me! How he stood with his cap off. Do
+men ever love so? Is there a kind of reverence in some men's love? How
+absurd that a great strong, brave man, ready to face cannons, can bow
+down to such a little--" Her fragmentary exclamations ended in a peal
+of laughter, but tears dimmed her blue eyes.
+
+Susie did visit Mrs. Jarvis, and although the reticent woman said
+little about her son, what she did say meant volumes to the girl who
+now had the right clew in interpreting his action and character. She
+too was reticent. New England girls rarely gushed in those days, so no
+one knew she was beginning to understand. Her eyes, experienced in
+country work, were quick, and her mind active. "It looks as if a giant
+had been wrestling with this stony farm," she muttered.
+
+Zeb received no ovations on his lonely tramp to the lines, and the
+vision of Susie Rolliffe waving her hand from the gateway would have
+blinded him to all the bright and admiring eyes in the world. He was
+hospitably entertained, however, when there was occasion; but the
+advent of men bound for the army had become an old story. Having at
+last inquired his way to the position occupied by the Connecticut
+troops, he was assigned to duty in the same company with Zeke Watkins,
+who gave him but a cool reception, and sought to overawe him by
+veteran-like airs. At first poor Zeb was awkward enough in his
+unaccustomed duties, and no laugh was so scornful as that of his rival.
+Young Jarvis, however, had not been many days in camp before he guessed
+that Zeke's star was not in the ascendant. There was but little
+fighting required, but much digging of intrenchments, drill, and
+monotonous picket duty. Zeke did not take kindly to such tasks, and
+shirked them when possible. He was becoming known as the champion
+grumbler in the mess, and no one escaped his criticism, not even "Old
+Put"--as General Putnam, who commanded the Connecticut quota, was
+called. Jarvis, on the other hand, performed his military duties as he
+had worked the farm, and rapidly acquired the bearing of a soldier.
+Indomitable Putnam gave his men little rest, and was ever seeking to
+draw his lines nearer to Boston and the enemy's ships. He virtually
+fought with pick and shovel, and his working parties were often exposed
+to fire while engaged in fortifying the positions successively
+occupied. The Opinquake boys regarded themselves as well seasoned to
+such rude compliments, and were not a little curious to see how Zeb
+would handle a shovel with cannon-balls whizzing uncomfortably near.
+The opportunity soon came. Old Put himself could not have been more
+coolly oblivious than the raw recruit. At last a ball smashed his
+shovel to smithereens; he quietly procured another and went on with his
+work. Then his former neighbors gave him a cheer, while his captain
+clapped him on the shoulder and said, "Promote you to be a veteran on
+the spot!"
+
+The days had grown shorter, colder, and drearier, and the discomforts
+of camp-life harder to endure. There were few tents even for the
+officers, and the men were compelled to improvise such shelter as
+circumstances permitted. Huts of stone, wood, and brush, and barricades
+against the wind, lined the hillside, and the region already was
+denuded of almost everything that would burn. Therefore, when December
+came, Zeke Watkins found that even a fire was a luxury not to be had
+without trouble. He had become thoroughly disgusted with a soldier's
+life, and the military glory which had at first so dazzled him now wore
+the aspect of the wintry sky. He had recently sought and attained the
+only promotion for which his captain now deemed him fitted--that of
+cook for about a dozen of his comrades; and the close of the December
+day found him preparing the meagre supper which the limited rations
+permitted. By virtue of his office, Zeke was one of the best-fed men in
+the army, for if there were any choice morsels he could usually manage
+to secure them; still, he was not happy. King George and Congress were
+both pursuing policies inconsistent with his comfort, and he sighed
+more and more frequently for the wide kitchen-hearth of his home, which
+was within easy visiting distance of the Rolliffe farmhouse. His term
+of enlistment expired soon, and he was already counting the days. He
+was not alone in his discontent, for there was much homesickness and
+disaffection among the Connecticut troops. Many had already departed,
+unwilling to stay an hour after the expiration of their terms; and not
+a few had anticipated the periods which legally released them from
+duty. The organization of the army was so loose that neither appeals
+nor threats had much influence, and Washington, in deep solicitude, saw
+his troops melting away.
+
+It was dark by the time the heavy tramp of the working party was heard
+returning from the fortifications. The great mess-pot, partly filled
+with pork and beans, was bubbling over the fire; Zeke, shifting his
+position from time to time to avoid the smoke which the wind, as if it
+had a spite against him, blew in his face, was sourly contemplating his
+charge and his lot, bent on grumbling to the others with even greater
+gusto than he had complained to himself. His comrades carefully put
+away their intrenching tools, for they were held responsible for them,
+and then gathered about the fire, clamoring for supper.
+
+"Zeke, you lazy loon," cried Nat Atkinson, "how many pipes have you
+smoked to-day? If you'd smoke less and forage and dun the commissary
+more, we'd have a little fresh meat once in a hundred years."
+
+"Yes, just about once in a hundred years!" snarled Zeke.
+
+"YOU find something to keep fat on, anyhow. We'll broil you some cold
+night. Trot out your beans if there's nothing else."
+
+"Growl away," retorted Zeke. "'Twon't be long before I'll be eating
+chickens and pumpkin-pie in Opinquake, instead of cooking beans and
+rusty pork for a lot of hungry wolves."
+
+"You'd be the hungriest wolf of the lot if you'd 'a' been picking and
+shovelling frozen ground all day."
+
+"I didn't 'list to be a ditch-digger!" said Zeke. "I thought I was
+going to be a soldier."
+
+"And you turned out a cook!" quietly remarked Zeb Jarvis.
+
+"Well, my hero of the smashed shovel, what do you expect to be--Old
+Put's successor? You know, fellows, it's settled that you're to dig
+your way into Boston, tunnel under the water when you come to it. Of
+course Put will die of old age before you get half there. Zeb'll be the
+chap of all others to command a division of shovellers. I see you with
+a pickaxe strapped on your side instead of a sword."
+
+"Lucky I'm not in command now," replied Zeb, "or you'd shovel dirt
+under fire to the last hour of your enlistment. I'd give grumblers like
+you something to grumble about. See here, fellows, I'm sick of this
+seditious talk in our mess. The Connecticut men are getting to be the
+talk of the army. You heard a squad of New Hampshire boys jeer at us
+to-day, and ask, 'When are ye going home to mother?' You ask, Zeke
+Watkins, what I expect to be. I expect to be a soldier, and obey orders
+as long as Old Put and General Washington want a man. All I ask is to
+be home summers long enough to keep mother and the children off the
+town. Now what do you expect to be after you give up your cook's ladle?"
+
+"None o' your business."
+
+"He's going home to court Susie Rolliffe," cried Nat Atkinson. "They'll
+be married in the spring, and go into the chicken business. That'd just
+suit Zeke."
+
+"It would not suit Susie Rolliffe," said Zeb, hotly. "A braver, better
+girl doesn't breathe in the colonies, and the man that says a slurring
+word against her's got to fight me."
+
+"What! Has she given Zeke the mitten for your sake, Zeb?" piped little
+Hiram Woodbridge.
+
+"She hasn't given me anything, and I've got no claim; but she is the
+kind of girl that every fellow from Opinquake should stand up for. We
+all know that there is nothing chicken-hearted about her."
+
+"Eight, by George--George W., I mean, and not the king," responded
+Hiram Woodbridge. "Here's to her health, Zeb, and your success! I
+believe she'd rather marry a soldier than a cook."
+
+"Thank you," said Zeb. "You stand as good a chance as I do; but don't
+let's bandy her name about in camp any more'n we would our mother's.
+The thing for us to do now is to show that the men from Connecticut
+have as much backbone as any other fellows in the army, North or South.
+Zeke may laugh at Old Put's digging, but you'll soon find that he'll
+pick his way to a point where he can give the Britishers a dig under
+the fifth rib. We've got the best general in the army. Washington, with
+all his Southern style, believes in him and relies on him. Whether
+their time's up or not, it's a burning shame that so many of his troops
+are sneaking off home."
+
+"It's all very well for you to talk, Zeb Jarvis," growled Zeke. "You
+haven't been here very long yet; and you stayed at home when others
+started out to fight. Now that you've found that digging and not
+fighting is the order of the day, you're just suited. It's the line of
+soldiering you are cut out for. When fighting men and not ditch-diggers
+are wanted, you'll find me---"
+
+"All right, Watkins," said the voice of Captain Dean from without the
+circle of light. "According to your own story you are just the kind of
+man needed to-night--no ditch-digging on hand, but dangerous service. I
+detail you, for you've had rest compared with the other men. I ask for
+volunteers from those who've been at work all day."
+
+Zeb Jarvis was on his feet instantly, and old Ezra Stokes also began to
+rise with difficulty. "No, Stokes," resumed the officer, "you can't go.
+I know you've suffered with the rheumatism all day, and have worked
+well in spite of it. For to-night's work I want young fellows with good
+legs and your spirit. How is it you're here anyhow Stokes? Your time's
+up."
+
+"We ain't into Boston yet," was the quiet reply.
+
+"So you want to stay?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Then you shall cook for the men till you're better. I won't keep so
+good a soldier, though, at such work any longer than I can help. Your
+good example and that of the gallant Watkins has brought out the whole
+squad. I think I'll put Jarvis in command, though; Zeke might be rash,
+and attempt the capture of Boston before morning;" and the facetious
+captain, who had once been a neighbor, concluded, "Jarvis, see that
+every man's piece is primed and ready for use. Be at my hut in fifteen
+minutes." Then he passed on to the other camp-fires.
+
+In a few minutes Ezra Stokes was alone by the fire, almost roasting his
+lame leg, and grumbling from pain and the necessity of enforced
+inaction. He was a taciturn, middle-age man, and had been the only
+bachelor of mature years in Opinquake. Although he rarely said much, he
+had been a great listener, and no one had been better versed in
+neighborhood affairs. In brief, he had been the village cobbler, and
+had not only taken the measure of Susie Rolliffe's little foot, but
+also of her spirit. Like herself he had been misled at first by the
+forwardness of Zeke Watkins and the apparent backwardness of Jarvis.
+Actual service had changed his views very decidedly. When Zeb appeared
+he had watched the course of this bashful suitor with interest which
+had rapidly ripened into warm but undemonstrative goodwill. The young
+fellow had taken pains to relieve the older man, had carried his tools
+for him, and more than once with his strong hands had almost rubbed the
+rheumatism out of the indomitable cobbler's leg. He had received but
+slight thanks, and had acted as if he didn't care for any. Stokes was
+not a man to return favors in words; he brooded over his gratitude as
+if it were a grudge. "I'll get even with that young Jarvis yet," he
+muttered, as he nursed his leg over the fire. "I know he worships the
+ground that little Rolliffe girl treads on, though she don't tread on
+much at a time. She never trod on me nuther, though I've had her foot
+in my hand more'n once. She looked at the man that made her shoes as if
+she would like to make him happier. When a little tot, she used to say
+I could come and live with her when I got too old to take care of
+myself. Lame as I be, I'd walk to Opinquake to give her a hint in her
+choosin'. Guess Hi Woodbridge is right, and she wouldn't be long in
+making up her mind betwixt a soger and a cook--a mighty poor one at
+that. Somehow or nuther I must let her know before Zeke Watkins sneaks
+home and parades around as a soldier 'bove ditch-digging. I've taken
+his measure.
+
+"He'll be putting on veteran airs, telling big stories of what he's
+going to do when soldiers are wanted, and drilling such fools as
+believe in him. Young gals are often taken by such strutters, and think
+that men like Jarvis, who darsn't speak for themselves, are of no
+account. But I'll put a spoke in Zeke's wheel, if I have to get the
+captain to write."
+
+It thus may be gathered that the cobbler had much to say to himself
+when alone, though so taciturn to others.
+
+The clouds along the eastern horizon were stained with red before the
+reconnoitring party returned. Stokes had managed, by hobbling about, to
+keep up the fire and to fill the mess-kettle with the inevitable pork
+and beans. The hungry, weary men therefore gave their new cook a cheer
+when they saw the good fire and provision awaiting them. A moment
+later, however, Jarvis observed how lame Stokes had become; he took the
+cobbler by the shoulder and sat him down in the warmest nook, saying,
+"I'll be assistant cook until you are better. As Zeke says, I'm a wolf
+sure enough; but as soon's the beast's hunger is satisfied, I'll rub
+that leg of yours till you'll want to dance a jig;" and with the ladle
+wrung from Stokes's reluctant hand, he began stirring the seething
+contents of the kettle.
+
+Then little Hi Woodbridge piped in his shrill voice, "Another cheer for
+our assistant cook and ditch-digger! I say, Zeke, wouldn't you like to
+tell Ezra that Zeb has showed himself fit for something more than
+digging? You expressed your opinion very plain last night, and may have
+a different one now."
+
+Zeke growld something inaudible, and stalked to his hut in order to put
+away his equipments.
+
+"I'm cook-in-chief yet," Stokes declared; "and not a bean will any one
+of you get till you report all that happened."
+
+"Well," piped Hi, "you may stick a feather in your old cap, Ezra, for
+our Opinquake lad captured a British officer last night, and Old Put is
+pumping him this blessed minute."
+
+"Well, well, that is news. It must have been Zeke who did that neat
+job," exclaimed Stokes, ironically; "he's been a-pining for the soldier
+business."
+
+"No, no; Zeke's above such night scrimmages. He wants to swim the bay
+and walk right into Boston in broad daylight, so everybody can see him.
+Come, Zeb, tell how it happened. It was so confounded dark, no one can
+tell but you."
+
+"There isn't much to tell that you fellows don't know," was Zeb's
+laconic answer. "We had sneaked down on the neck so close to the
+enemy's lines---"
+
+"Yes, yes, Zeb Jarvis," interrupted Stokes, "that's the kind of
+sneaking you're up to--close to the enemy's lines. Go on."
+
+"Well, I crawled up so close that I saw a Britisher going the round of
+the sentinels, and I pounced on him and brought him out on the run,
+that's all."
+
+"Oho! you both ran away, then? That wasn't good soldiering either, was
+it, Zeke?" commented Stokes, in his dry way.
+
+"It's pretty good soldiering to stand fire within an inch of your
+nose," resumed Hi, who had become a loyal friend and adherent of his
+tall comrade. "Zeb was so close on the Britisher when he fired his
+pistol that we saw the faces of both in the flash; and a lot of bullets
+sung after us, I can sell you, as we dusted out of those diggin's."
+
+"Compliments of General Putnam to Sergeant Zebulon Jarvis," said an
+orderly, riding out of the dim twilight of the morning. "The general
+requests your presence at headquarters."
+
+"Sergeant! promoted! Another cheer for Zeb!" and the Opinquake boys
+gave it with hearty goodwill.
+
+"Jerusalem, fellows! I'd like to have a chance at those beans before I
+go!" but Zeb promptly tramped off with the orderly.
+
+When he returned he was subjected to a fire of questions by the two or
+three men still awake, but all they could get out of him was that he
+had been given a good breakfast. From Captain Dean, who was with the
+general at the time of the examination, it leaked out that Zeb was in
+the line of promotion to a rank higher than that of sergeant.
+
+The next few days passed uneventfully; and Zeke was compelled to resume
+the pick and shovel again. Stokes did his best to fulfil his duties,
+but it had become evident to all that the exposure of camp would soon
+disable him utterly. Jarvis and Captain Dean persuaded him to go home
+for the winter, and the little squad raised a sum which enabled him to
+make the journey in a stage. Zeke, sullen toward his jeering comrades,
+but immensely elated in secret, had shaken the dust--snow and slush
+rather--of camp-life from his feet the day before. He had the grace to
+wait till the time of his enlistment expired, and that was more than
+could be said of many.
+
+It spoke well for the little Opinquake quota that only two others
+besides Zeke availed themselves of their liberty. Poor Stokes was
+almost forced away, consoled by the hope of returning in the spring.
+Zeb was sore-hearted on the day of Zeke's departure. His heart was in
+the Connecticut Valley also. No message had come to him from Susie
+Rolliffe. Those were not the days of swift and frequent communication.
+Even Mrs. Jarvis had written but seldom, and her missives were brief.
+Mother-love glowed through the few quaint and scriptural phrases like
+heat in anthracite coals. All that poor Zeb could learn from them was
+that Susie Rolliffe had kept her word and had been to the farm more
+than once; but the girl had been as reticent as the mother. Zeke was
+now on his way home to prosecute his suit in person, and Zeb well knew
+how forward and plausible he could be. There was no deed of daring that
+he would not promise to perform after spring opened, and Zeb reasoned
+gloomily that a present lover, impassioned and importunate, would stand
+a better chance than an absent one who had never been able to speak for
+himself.
+
+When it was settled that Stokes should return to Opinquake, Zeb
+determined that he would not give up the prize to Zeke without one
+decisive effort; and as he was rubbing the cobbler's leg, he stammered,
+"I say Ezra, will you do me a turn? 'Twon't be so much, what I ask,
+except that I'll like you to keep mum about it, and you're a good hand
+at keeping mum."
+
+"I know what yer driving at, Zeb. Write yer letter and I'll deliver it
+with my own hands."
+
+"Well, now, I'm satisfied, I can stay on and fight it out with a clear
+mind. When Zeke marched away last summer, I thought it was all up with
+me; and I can tell you that any fighting that's to do about Boston will
+be fun compared with the fighting I did while hoeing corn and mowing
+grass. But I don't believe that Susie Rolliffe is promised to Zeke
+Watkins, or any one else yet, and I'm going to give her a chance to
+refuse me plump."
+
+"That's the way to do it, Zeb," said the bachelor cobbler, with an
+emphasis that would indicate much successful experience. "Asking a girl
+plump is like standing up in a fair fight. It gives the girl a chance
+to bowl you over, if that's her mind, so there can't be any mistake
+about it; and it seems to me the women-folks ought to have all the
+chances that in any way belong to them. They have got few enough
+anyhow."
+
+"And you think it'll end in my being bowled over?"
+
+"How should I know, or you either, unless you make a square trial?
+You're such a strapping, fighting feller that nothing but a cannon-ball
+or a woman ever will knock you off your pins."
+
+"See here, Ezra Stokes, the girl of my heart may refuse me just as
+plump as I offer myself; and if that's her mind she has a right to do
+it. But I don't want either you or her to think I won't stand on my
+feet. I won't even fight any more recklessly than my duty requires. I
+have a mother to take care of, even if I never have a wife."
+
+"I'll put in a few pegs right along to keep in mind what you say; and
+I'll give you a fair show by seeing to it that the girl gets your
+letter before Zeke can steal a march on you."
+
+"That's all I ask," said Zeb, with compressed lips. "She shall choose
+between us. It's hard enough to write, but it will be a sight easier
+than facing her. Not a word of this to another soul, Ezra; but I'm not
+going to use you like a mail-carrier, but a friend. After all, there
+are few in Opinquake, I suppose, but know I'd give my eyes for her, so
+there isn't much use of my putting on secret airs."
+
+"I'm not a talker, and you might have sent your letter by a worse
+messenger'n me," was the laconic reply.
+
+Zeb had never written a love-letter, and was at a loss how to begin or
+end it. But time pressed, and he had to say what was uppermost in his
+mind. It ran as follows:
+
+"I don't know how to write so as to give my words weight. I cannot come
+home; I will not come as long as mother and the children can get on
+without me. And men are needed here; men are needed. The general fairly
+pleads with the soldiers to stay. Stokes would stay if he could. We're
+almost driving him home. I know you will be kind to him, and remember
+he has few to care for him. I cannot speak for myself in person very
+soon, if ever. Perhaps I could not if I stood before you. You laugh at
+me; but if you knew how I love you and remember you, how I honor and
+almost worship you in my heart, you might understand me better. Why is
+it strange I should be afraid of you? Only God has more power over me
+than you. Will you be my wife? I will do anything to win you that YOU
+can ask. Others will plead with you in person. Will you let this letter
+plead for the absent?"
+
+Zeb went to the captain's quarters and got some wax with which to seal
+this appeal, then saw Stokes depart with the feeling that his destiny
+was now at stake.
+
+Meanwhile Zeke Watkins, with a squad of homeward-bound soldiers, was
+trudging toward Opinquake. They soon began to look into one another's
+faces in something like dismay. But little provision was in their
+wallets when they had started, for there was little to draw upon, and
+that furnished grudgingly, as may well be supposed. Zeke had not cared.
+He remembered the continuous feasting that had attended his journey to
+camp, and supposed that he would only have to present himself to the
+roadside farmhouses in order to enjoy the fat of the land. This
+hospitality he proposed to repay abundantly by camp reminiscences in
+which it would not be difficult to insinuate that the hero of the scene
+was present.
+
+In contrast to these rose-hued expectations, doors were slammed in
+their faces, and they were treated little better than tramps. "I
+suppose the people near Boston have been called on too often and
+imposed on, too," Zeke reasoned rather ruefully. "When we once get over
+the Connecticut border we'll begin to find ourselves at home;" and
+spurred by hunger and cold, as well as hope, they pushed on
+desperately, subsisting on such coarse provisions as they could obtain,
+sleeping in barns when it stormed, and not infrequently by a fire in
+the woods. At last they passed the Connecticut border, and led by Zeke
+they urged their way to a large farmhouse, at which, but a few months
+before, the table had groaned under rustic dainties, and feather-beds
+had luxuriously received the weary recruits bound to the front. They
+approached the opulent farm in the dreary dark of the evening, and
+pursued by a biting east wind laden with snow. Not only the weather,
+but the very dogs seemed to have a spite against them; and the family
+had to rush out to call them off.
+
+"Weary soldiers ask for shelter," began Zeke.
+
+"Of course you're bound for the lines," said the matronly housewife.
+"Come in."
+
+Zeke thought they would better enter at once before explaining; and
+truly the large kitchen, with a great fire blazing on the hearth,
+seemed like heaven. The door leading into the family sitting-room was
+open, and there was another fire, with the red-cheeked girls and the
+white-haired grandsire before it, their eyes turned expectantly toward
+the new-comers. Instead of hearty welcome, there was a questioning look
+on every face, even on that of the kitchen-maid. Zeke's four companions
+had a sort of hang-dog look--for they had been cowed by the treatment
+received along the road; but he tried to bear himself confidently, and
+began with an insinuating smile, "Perhaps I should hardly expect you to
+remember me. I passed this way last summer---"
+
+"Passed this way last summer?" repeated the matron, her face growing
+stern. "We who cannot fight are ready and glad to share all we have
+with those who fight for us. Since you carry arms we might very justly
+think you are hastening forward to use them."
+
+"These are our own arms; we furnished them ourselves," Zeke hastened to
+say.
+
+"Oh, indeed," replied the matron, coldly; "I supposed that not only the
+weapons, but the ones who carry them, belonged to the country. I hope
+you are not deserting from the army."
+
+"I assure you we are not. Our terms of enlistment have expired."
+
+"And your country's need was over at the same moment? Are you hastening
+home at this season to plow and sow and reap?"
+
+"Well, madam, after being away so long we felt like having a little
+comfort and seeing the folks. We stayed a long as we agreed. When
+spring opens, or before, if need be---"
+
+"Pardon me, sir; the need is now. The country is not to be saved by men
+who make bargains like day-laborers, and who quit when the hour is up,
+but by soldiers who give themselves to their country as they would to
+their wives and sweethearts. My husband and sons are in the army you
+have deserted. General Washington has written to our governor asking
+whether an example should not be made of the men who have deserted the
+cause of their country at this critical time when the enemy are
+receiving re-enforcements. We are told that Connecticut men have
+brought disgrace on our colony and have imperilled the whole army. You
+feel like taking comfort and seeing the folks. The folks do not feel
+like seeing you. My husband and the brave men in the lines are in all
+the more danger because of your desertion, for a soldier's time never
+expires when the enemy is growing stronger and threatening every home
+in the land. If all followed your example, the British would soon be
+upon your heels, taking from us our honor and our all. We are not
+ignorant of the critical condition of our army; and I can tell you,
+sir, that if many more of our men come home, the women will take their
+places."
+
+Zeke's companions succumbed to the stern arraignment, and after a brief
+whispered consultation one spoke for the rest. "Madam," he said, "you
+put it in a way that we hadn't realized before. We'll right-about-face
+and march back in the morning, for we feel that we'd rather face all
+the British in Boston than any more Connecticut women."
+
+"Then, sirs, you shall have supper and shelter and welcome," was the
+prompt reply.
+
+Zeke assumed an air of importance as he said: "There are reasons why I
+must be at home for a time, but I not only expect to return, but also
+to take many back with me."
+
+"I trust your deeds may prove as large as your words," was the chilly
+reply; and then he was made to feel that he was barely tolerated. Some
+hints from his old associates added to the disfavor which the family
+took but little pains to conceal. There was a large vein of selfish
+calculation in Zeke's nature, and he was not to be swept away by any
+impulses. He believed he could have a prolonged visit home, yet manage
+so admirably that when he returned he would be followed by a squad of
+recruits, and chief of all he would be the triumphant suitor of Susie
+Rolliffe. Her manner in parting had satisfied him that he had made go
+deep an impression that it would be folly not to follow it up. He
+trudged the remainder of the journey alone, and secured tolerable
+treatment by assuring the people that he was returning for recruits for
+the army. He reached home in the afternoon of Christmas; and although
+the day was almost completely ignored in the Puritan household, yet
+Mrs. Watkins forgot country, Popery, and all, in her mother love, and
+Zeke supped on the finest turkey of the flock. Old Mr. Watkins, it is
+true, looked rather grim, but the reception had been reassuring in the
+main; and Zeke had resolved on a line of tactics which would make him,
+as he believed, the military hero of the town. After he had satisfied
+an appetite which had been growing ever since he left camp, he started
+to call on Susie in all the bravery of his best attire, filled with
+sanguine expectations inspired by memories of the past and recent
+potations of cider.
+
+Meanwhile Susie had received a guest earlier in the day. The stage had
+stopped at the gate where she had stood in the September sunshine and
+waved her bewildered farewell to Zeb. There was no bewilderment or
+surprise now at her strange and unwonted sensations. She had learned
+why she had stood looking after him dazed and spellbound. Under the
+magic of her own light irony she had seen her drooping rustic lover
+transformed into the ideal man who could face anything except her
+unkindness. She had guessed the deep secret of his timidity. It was a
+kind of fear of which she had not dreamed, and which touched her
+innermost soul.
+
+When the stage stopped at the gate, and she saw the driver helping out
+Ezra Stokes, a swift presentiment made her sure that she would hear
+from one soldier who was more to her than all the generals. She was
+soon down the walk, the wind sporting in her light-gold hair,
+supporting the cobbler on the other side.
+
+"Ah, Miss Susie!" he said, "I am about worn out, sole and upper. It
+breaks my heart, when men are so sorely needed, to be thrown aside like
+an old shoe."
+
+The girl soothed and comforted him, ensconced him by the fireside,
+banishing the chill from his heart, while Mrs. Rolliffe warmed his
+blood by a strong, hot drink. Then the mother hastened away to get
+dinner, while Susie sat down near, nervously twisting and untwisting
+her fingers, with questions on her lips which she dared not utter, but
+which brought blushes to her cheeks. Stokes looked at her and sighed
+over his lost youth, yet smiled as he thought: "Guess I'll get even
+with that Zeb Jarvis to-day." Then he asked, "Isn't there any one you
+would like to hear about in camp?"
+
+She blushed deeper still, and named every one who had gone from
+Opinquake except Zeb. At last she said a little ironically: "I suppose
+Ezekiel Watkins is almost thinking about being a general about this
+time?"
+
+"Hasn't he been here telling you what he is thinking about?"
+
+"Been here! Do you mean to say he has come home?"
+
+"He surely started for home. All the generals and a yoke of oxen
+couldn't 'a' kept him in camp, he was so homesick--lovesick too, I
+guess. Powerful compliment to you, Miss Susie," added the politic
+cobbler, feeling his way, "that you could draw a man straight from his
+duty like one of these 'ere stump-extractors."
+
+"No compliment to me at all!" cried the girl, indignantly. "He little
+understands me who seeks my favor by coming home at a time like this.
+The Connecticut women are up in arms at the way our men are coming
+home. No offence to you, Mr. Stokes. You're sick, and should come; but
+I'd like to go myself to show some of the strong young fellows what we
+think of them."
+
+"Coming home was worse than rheumatism to me, and I'm going back soon's
+I kin walk without a cane. Wouldn't 'a' come as 'tis, if that Zeb
+Jarvis hadn't jes' packed me off. By Jocks! I thought you and he was
+acquainted, but you don't seem to ask arter him."
+
+"I felt sure he would try--I heard he was doing his duty," she replied
+with averted face.
+
+"Zeke Watkins says he's no soldier at all--nothing but a dirt-digger."
+
+For a moment, as the cobbler had hoped, Susie forgot her blushes and
+secret in her indignation. "Zeke Watkins indeed!" she exclaimed. "He'd
+better not tell ME any such story. I don't believe there's a braver,
+truer man in the--Well," she added in sudden confusion, "he hasn't run
+away and left others to dig their way into Boston, if that's the best
+way of getting there."
+
+"Ah, I'm going to get even with him yet," chuckled Stokes to himself.
+"Digging is only the first step, Miss Susie. When Old Put gets good and
+ready, you'll hear the thunder of the guns a'most in Opinquake."
+
+"Well, Mr. Stokes," stammered Susie, resolving desperately on a short
+cut to the knowledge she craved, "you've seen Mr. Jarvis a-soldiering.
+What do you think about it?"
+
+"Well, now, that Zeb Jarvis is the sneakin'ist fellow---"
+
+"What?" cried the girl, her face aflame.
+
+"Wait till I get in a few more pegs," continued Stokes, coolly. "The
+other night he sneaked right into the enemy's lines and carried off a
+British officer as a hawk takes a chicken. The Britisher fired his
+pistol right under Zeb's nose; but, law! he didn't mind that any more'n
+a 'sketer-bite. I call that soldiering, don't you? Anyhow, Old Put
+thought it was, and sent for him 'fore daylight, and made a sergeant of
+him. If I had as good a chance of gettin' rid of the rheumatiz as he
+has of bein' captain in six months, I'd thank the Lord."
+
+Susie sat up very straight, and tried to look severely judicial; but
+her lip was quivering and her whole plump little form trembling with
+excitement and emotion. Suddenly she dropped her face in her hands and
+cried in a gust of tears and laughter: "He's just like grandfather;
+he'd face anything!"
+
+"Anything in the 'tarnal universe, I guess, 'cept you, Miss Susie. I
+seed a cannon-ball smash a shovel in his hands, and he got another, and
+went on with his work cool as a cucumber. Then I seed him writin' a
+letter to you, and his hand trembled---"
+
+"A letter to me!" cried the girl, springing up.
+
+"Yes; 'ere it is. I was kind of pegging around till I got to that; and
+you know---"
+
+But Susie was reading, her hands trembling so she could scarcely hold
+the paper. "It's about you," she faltered, making one more desperate
+effort at self-preservation. "He says you'd stay if you could; that
+they almost drove you home. And he asks that I be kind to you, because
+there are not many to care for you--and--and---"
+
+"Oh, Lord! never can get even with that Zeb Jarvis," groaned Ezra. "But
+you needn't tell me that's all the letter's about."
+
+Her eyes were full of tears, yet not so full but that she saw the
+plain, closing words in all their significance. Swiftly the letter went
+to her lips, then was thrust into her bosom, and she seized the
+cobbler's hand, exclaiming: "Yes, I will! I will! You shall stay with
+us, and be one of us!" and in her excitement she put her left hand
+caressingly on his shoulder.
+
+"SUSAN!" exclaimed Mr. Rolliffe, who entered at that moment, and looked
+aghast at the scene.
+
+"Yes, I WILL!" exclaimed Susie, too wrought up now for restraint.
+
+"Will what?" gasped the mother.
+
+"Be Zebulon Jarvis's wife. He's asked me plump and square like a
+soldier; and I'll answer as grandma did, and like grandma I'll face
+anything for his sake."
+
+"WELL, this IS suddent!" exclaimed Mrs. Rolliffe, dropping into a
+chair. "Susan, do you think it is becoming and seemly for a young
+woman---"
+
+"Oh, mother dear, there's no use of your trying to make a prim Puritan
+maiden of me. Zeb doesn't fight like a deacon, and I can't love like
+one. Ha! ha! ha! to think that great soldier is afraid of little me,
+and nothing else! It's too funny and heavenly---"
+
+"Susan, I am dumfounded at your behavior!"
+
+At this moment Mr. Rolliffe came in from the wood-lot, and he was dazed
+by the wonderful news also. In his eagerness to get even with Zeb, the
+cobbler enlarged and expatiated till he was hoarse. When he saw that
+the parents were almost as proud as the daughter over their prospective
+son-in-law, he relapsed into his old taciturnity, declaring he had
+talked enough for a month.
+
+Susie, the only child, who apparently had inherited all the fire and
+spirit of her fighting ancestors, darted out, and soon returned with
+her rosebud of a face enveloped in a great calyx of a woollen hood.
+
+"Where are you going?" exclaimed her parents.
+
+"You've had the news. I guess Mother Jarvis has the next right." And
+she was off over the hills with almost the lightness and swiftness of a
+snowbird.
+
+In due time Zeke appeared, and smiled encouragingly on Mrs. Rolliffe,
+who sat knitting by the kitchen fire. The matron did not rise, and gave
+him but a cool salutation. He discussed the coldness of the weather
+awkwardly for a few moments, and then ventured: "Is Miss Susan at home?"
+
+"No, sir," replied Mrs. Rolliffe; "she's gone to make a visit to her
+mother-in-law that is to be, the Widow Jarvis. Ezra Stokes is sittin'
+in the next room, sent home sick. Perhaps you'd like to talk over
+camp-life with him."
+
+Not even the cider now sustained Zeke. He looked as if a cannon-ball
+had wrecked all his hopes and plans instead of a shovel. "Good-evening,
+Mrs. Rolliffe," he stammered; "I guess I'll--I'll--go home."
+
+Poor Mrs. Jarvis had a spiritual conflict that day which she never
+forgot. Susie's face had flashed at the window near which she had sat
+spinning, and sighing perhaps that Nature had not provided feathers or
+fur for a brood like hers; then the girl's arms were about her neck,
+the news was stammered out--for the letter could never be shown to any
+one--in a way that tore primness to tatters. The widow tried to act as
+if it were a dispensation of Providence which should be received in
+solemn gratitude; but before she knew it she was laughing and crying,
+kissing her sweet-faced daughter, or telling how good and brave Zeb had
+been when his heart was almost breaking.
+
+Compunction had already seized upon the widow. "Susan," she began, "I
+fear we are not mortifyin' the flesh as we ought---"
+
+"No mortifying just yet, if you please," cried Susie. "The most
+important thing of all is yet to be done. Zeb hasn't heard the news;
+just think of it! You must write and tell him that I'll help you spin
+the children's clothes and work the farm; that we'll face everything in
+Opinquake as long as Old Put needs men. Where is the ink-horn? I'll
+sharpen a pen for you and one for me, and SUCH news as he'll get! Wish
+I could tell him, though, and see the great fellow tremble once more.
+Afraid of me! Ha! ha! ha! that's the funniest thing--Why, Mother
+Jarvis, this is Christmas Day!"
+
+"So it is," said the widow, in an awed tone. "Susie, my heart misgives
+me that all this should have happened on a day of which Popery has made
+so much."
+
+"No, no," cried the girl. "Thank God it IS Christmas! and hereafter I
+shall keep Christmas as long as love is love and God is good."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+JEFF'S TREASURE
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+ITS DISCOVERY
+
+
+Jeff, the hero of my tale, was as truly a part of the Southern
+Confederacy as the greater Jeff at Richmond. Indeed, were it not for
+the humbler Jeff and the class he represented, the other Jeff would
+never have attained his eminence.
+
+Jeff's prospects were as dark as himself. He owned nothing, not even
+himself, yet his dream of riches is the motive of my tale. Regarded as
+a chattel, for whom a bill of sale would have been made as readily as
+for a bullock, he proved himself a man and brother by a prompt
+exhibition of traits too common to human nature when chance and some
+heroism on his part gave into his hands the semblance of a fortune.
+
+Jeff was a native Virginian and belonged to an F.F.V. in a certain
+practical, legal sense which thus far had not greatly disturbed his
+equanimity. His solid physique and full shining face showed that
+slavery had brought no horrors into his experience. He had indulged, it
+is true, in vague yearnings for freedom, but these had been checked by
+hearing that liberty meant "working for Yankees"--appalling news to an
+indolent soul. He was house-servant and man-of-all-work in a family
+whose means had always been limited, and whose men were in the
+Confederate army. His "missus" evinced a sort of weary content when he
+had been scolded or threatened into the completion of his tasks by
+nightfall. He then gave her and her daughters some compensation for
+their trials with him by producing his fiddle and making the warm
+summer evening resonant with a kind of music which the negro only can
+evoke. Jeff was an artist, and had a complacent consciousness of the
+fact. He was a living instance of the truth that artists are born, not
+made. No knowledge of this gifted class had ever suggested kinship; he
+did not even know what the word meant, but when his cheek rested
+lovingly against his violin he felt that he was made of different clay
+from other "niggahs." During the day he indulged in moods by the divine
+right and impulse of genius, imitating his gifted brothers
+unconsciously. In waiting on the table, washing dishes, and hoeing the
+garden, he was as great a laggard as Pegasus would have been if
+compelled to the labors of a cart-horse; but when night came, and
+uncongenial toil was over, his soul expanded. His corrugated brow
+unwrinkled itself; his great black fingers flew back and forth over the
+strings as if driven by electricity; and electric in effect were the
+sounds produced by his swiftly-glancing bow.
+
+While the spirit of music so filled his heart that he could play to the
+moon and silent stars, an audience inspired him with tenfold power,
+especially if the floor was cleared or a smooth sward selected for a
+dance. Rarely did he play long before all who could trip a measure were
+on their feet, while even the superannuated nodded and kept time,
+sighing that they were old. His services naturally came into great
+demand, and he was catholic in granting them--his mistress in
+good-natured tolerance acceding to requests which promised many
+forgetful hours at a time when the land was shadowed by war. So it
+happened that Jeff was often at the more pretending residences of the
+neighborhood, sometimes fiddling in the detached kitchen of a Southern
+mansion to the shuffle of heavy feet, again in the lighted parlor,
+especially when Confederate troops were quartered near. It was then
+that his strains took on their most inspiring and elevated character.
+He gave wings to the dark-eyed Southern girls; their feet scarcely
+touched the floor as they whirled with their cavaliers in gray, or
+threaded the mazes of the cotillon then and there in vogue.
+
+Nor did he disdain an invitation to a crossroads tavern, frequented by
+poor whites and enlisted men, or when the nights were warm, to a
+moonlit sward, on which he would invite his audience to a reel which
+left all breathless. While there was a rollicking element in the
+strains of his fiddle which a deacon could not resist, he, with the
+intuition of genius, adapted himself to the class before him. In the
+parlor, he called off the figures of a quadrille with a
+"by-yer-leave-sah" air, selecting, as a rule, the highest class of
+music that had blessed his ears, for he was ear-taught only. He would
+hold a half-washed dish suspended minutes at a time while listening to
+one "ob de young missys at de pianny. Dat's de way I'se pick up my most
+scrumptious pieces. Dey cyant play nuffin in de daytime dat I cyant
+'prove on in de ebenin';" and his vanity did not lead him much astray.
+But when with those of his own color, or with the humbler classes, he
+gave them the musical vernacular of the region--rude traditional
+quicksteps and songs, strung together with such variations of his own
+as made him the envy and despair of all other fiddlers in the vicinity.
+Indeed, he could rarely get away from a great house without a sample of
+his powers in this direction, and then blending with the rhythmical
+cadence of feet, the rustle of garments, would be evoked ripples of
+mirth and bursts of laughter that were echoed back from the dim
+pine-groves without. Finally, when with his great foot beating time on
+the floor and every muscle of his body in motion, he ended with an
+original arrangement of "Dixie," the eyes of the gentlest maiden would
+flash as she joined the chorus of the men in gray, who were scarcely
+less excited for the moment than they would have been in a headlong
+cavalry charge.
+
+These were moments of glory for Jeff. In fact, on all similar occasions
+he had a consciousness of his power; he made the slave forget his
+bondage, the poor whites their poverty, maidens the absence of their
+fathers, brothers, and lovers, and the soldier the chances against his
+return.
+
+At last there came a summer day when other music than that of Jeff's
+fiddle resounded through that region. Two armies met and grappled
+through the long sultry hours. Every moment death wounds were given and
+received, for thick as insects in woods, grove, and thicket, bullets
+whizzed on their fatal mission; while from every eminence the
+demoniacal shells shrieked in exultation over the havoc they wrought.
+
+Jeff's home was on the edge of the battlefield, and as he trembled in
+the darkest corner of the cellar, he thought, "Dis yer beats all de
+thunder-gusts I eber heered crack, run togedder in one big hurricane."
+
+With the night came silence, except as it was broken by the groans and
+cries of wounded men; and later the contending forces departed, having
+accorded to the fallen such poor burial as was given them when life was
+cheap and death the chief harvester in Virginia.
+
+For a day or two Jeff's conscience was active, and the memory of the
+resolutions inspired by the din of war gave to his thin visage a
+preternatural seriousness. Dishes were washed in such brief time and so
+thoroughly, and such havoc made in the garden-weeds that the world
+might make a note of Jeff's idea of reform (to its advantage). In the
+evening his fiddle wailed out psalm-tunes to the entire exclusion of
+its former carnal strains.
+
+It must be admitted, however, that Jeff's grace was like the early dew.
+On the third evening, "Ole Dan Tucker" slipped in among the hymns, and
+these were played in a time scarcely befitting their character. Then
+came a bit of news that awakened a wholly different train of thought
+and desire. A colored boy, more venturous than himself, was said to
+have picked up some "Linkum" money on the battlefield. This information
+shed on the wild wooded tract where the war trumpet had raged the most
+fiercely a light more golden than that of the moon then at its full;
+and Jeff resolved that with the coming night he also would explore a
+region which, nevertheless, had nameless terrors for him.
+
+"Ef dere's spooks anywhere dey's dereaway," he muttered over his hoe;
+"but den, ki! dey woan 'fere wid dis yer niggah. What hab I'se got ter
+do wid de wah and de fighten an de jabbin'? De spooks cyant lay nuffin
+ter me eben ef ole marse an' de res' am a-fighten ter keep dere slabes,
+as folks say."
+
+Having thus satisfied himself that the manes of the dead thousands
+could have no controversy with him, Jeff mustered sufficient resolution
+to visit the field that night. He took no one into his confidence,
+fearing if he discovered treasures of any kind he could not be left in
+undisturbed possession. During the day the rudiments of imagination
+which made him a musician had been conjuring up the possible results of
+his expedition.
+
+"De ting fer dis cullud pusson ter do is ter p'ramberlate ter de Linkum
+lines. Ki! I doan wan' what drap outen OUR sogers' pockets. I kin git
+Virginny leaf widouten runnin' 'mong de spooks arter it. De place fer a
+big fine is whar de brush is tick and de Linkum men crawl away so dey
+woan be tromp on. Who knows but I kin fine a place whar a ginral hide
+hisself? Ob cose if he hab a lot of gole he'd stick it in de bush or
+kiver it right smart, so dat oders moutn't get it foh he could helf
+hisself."
+
+Jeff thought he had reasoned himself into such a valorous state that he
+could walk across the deserted battlefield with nonchalance; but as he
+entered on a deeply shadowed dirt-road long since disused to any
+extent, he found strange creeping sensations running up and down his
+back. The moonlight filtered through the leaves with fantastic effects.
+A young silver poplar looked ghastly in the distance; and now and then
+a tree out off by a shot looked almost human in its mutilation.
+
+He had not gone very far before he saw what appeared to be the body of
+a man lying across the road. With a sudden chill of blood he stopped
+and stared at the object. Gradually it resolved itself into a low mound
+in the dim light. Approaching cautiously, he discovered with a dull
+sense of horror that a soldier had been buried where he had fallen, but
+covered so slightly that the tumulus scarcely more than outlined his
+form.
+
+"Ob cose I knowed I d hab ter see dese tings foh I started. What I such
+a fool fer? De Feds nor de Yanks am' a-gwine ter bodder me if I am'
+steppin' on 'em or ober 'em." And he went scrupulously on the other
+side of the road.
+
+By and by, however, he came to a part of the wood-lane where men had
+fallen by the score, and bodies had been covered in twos, threes, and
+dozens. His head felt as if his very wool were straightening itself
+out, as he wound here and there and zigzagged in all directions lest he
+should step on or over a grave. A breeze stirred the forest as if all
+the thousands buried in its shades had heaved a long deep sigh. With
+chattering teeth Jeff stopped to listen, then, reassured, continued to
+pick his tortuous way. Suddenly there was an ominous rustling in a
+thicket just behind. He broke into a headlong flight across and over
+everything, when the startled grunt of a hog revealed the prosaic
+nature of this spook. Scarcely any other sound could have been more
+reassuring. The animal suggested bacon and hominy and hoe-cake,
+everything except the ghostly. He berated himself angrily:
+
+"Ki! you niggah! dat ar hog got mo' co'age dan you. He know he hab
+nuffin mo' ter do wid de spooks dan you hab. De run ain' far, and when
+I gits ober dat de spooks on de side dis way cyant cross arter me;" and
+he hastened toward the spot where he supposed the Federals had been
+massed the most heavily, crossing an open field and splashing through a
+shallow place in the river, that their ghost-ships might be reminded of
+running water.
+
+On the further slope were the same sad evidences of poor mortality,
+graves here and there and often all too shallow, broken muskets, bullet
+perforated canteens and torn knapsacks--the debris of a pitched battle.
+Many trees and shrubs were so lacerated that their foliage hung limp
+and wilting, while boughs with shrivelled leaves strewed the ground.
+Nature's wounds indicated that men had fought here and been mutilated
+as ruthlessly.
+
+For a time nothing of value rewarded Jeff's search, and he began to
+succumb to the grewsome associations of the place. At last he resolved
+to examine one more thicket that bordered an old rail-fence, and then
+make a long detour rather than go back by the graveyard road over which
+he had come. Pushing the bushes aside, he peered among their shadows
+for some moments, and then uttered an exclamation of surprise and
+terror as he bounded backward. There was no mistake this time; he had
+seen the figure of a man with a ray of moonlight filtering through the
+leaves on a ghastly bullet-hole in his temple. He sat with his back
+against the fence, and had not moved after receiving the shock. At his
+feet, dropped evidently from his nerveless hand, lay a metal box. All
+had flashed almost instantaneously on Jeff's vision.
+
+For some moments he was in doubt whether to take to his heels homeward
+or reconnoitre again. The soldier sat in such a lifelike attitude that
+while Jeff knew the man must be dead, taking the box seemed like
+robbing the living. Yes, worse than that, for, to the superstitious
+negro, the dead soldier appeared to be watching his treasure.
+
+Jeff's cupidity slowly mastered his fears. Cautiously approaching the
+figure, he again pushed aside the screening boughs, and with chattering
+teeth and trembling limbs, looked upon the silent guardian of the
+treasure, half expecting the dead man to raise his head, and warn him
+off with a threatening gesture. Since the figure remained motionless,
+Jeff made a headlong plunge, clutched the box, then ran half a mile
+without thinking to look back.
+
+Not for his life would he cross the battlefield again; so it was late
+when by wide circuit he approached the dwelling of his mistress. His
+panic had gradually subsided, and as he noted familiar objects, he felt
+that he was beyond the proper range of the unjust spirits of the dead.
+
+The soldier he had left sitting against the fence troubled him, it is
+true; and he was not quite sure that he was through with one so
+palpably robbed. That he had not been followed appeared certain; that
+the question of future ownership of the treasure could be settled was a
+matter of superstitious belief. There was only one way--he must hide
+the box in a secret nook, and if it remained undisturbed for a
+reasonable length of time, he might hope for its undisturbed enjoyment.
+Accordingly he stole into a dense copse and buried his booty at the
+foot of a persimmon-tree, then gained his humble quarter and slept so
+late and soundly that he had to be dragged almost without the door the
+next morning before he shook off his lethargy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+ITS INFLUENCE
+
+
+With the exception of aptitude which enabled Jeff to catch and fix a
+tune in his mind with a fair degree of correctness, his mental
+processes were slow. Moreover, whether he should ever have any trouble
+with "spooks" or not, one thing was true of him, as of many others in
+all stations of life, he was haunted by the ghost of a conscience. This
+uneasy spirit suggested to him with annoying iteration that his
+proceedings the night before had been of very unusual and doubtful
+character. When at last fully awake, he sought to appease the accusing
+voice by unwonted diligence in all his tasks, until the fat cook, a
+devout Baptist, took more than one occasion to say, "You'se in a
+promisin' frame, Jeff. Ef I'se ony shoah dat yer hole out long anuff
+ter get 'mersed, I'd hab hopes on yer, but, law! yer'll be a-fiddlin'
+de debil's tunes 'fo' de week is out. I'se afeared dat dere must be an
+awful prov'dence, like a battle or harricane, onst a week, ter keep yer
+ser'ous;" and the old woman sniffed down at him with ill-concealed
+disdain from her superior spiritual height.
+
+Jeff was as serious as could have been wished all that day, for there
+was much on his mind. Perplexing questions tinged with supernatural
+terrors tormented him. Passing over those having a moral point, the
+most urgent one was, "S'pose dat ar soger miss him box an come arter it
+ternight. Ki! If I go ter see, I mout run right on ter de spook. I'se
+a-gwine ter gib 'im his chance, an' den take mine." So that evening
+Jeff fortified himself and increased the cook's hope by a succession of
+psalm-tunes in which there was no lapse toward the "debil's" music.
+
+Next morning, after a long sleep, Jeff's nerves were stronger, and he
+began to take a high hand with conscience.
+
+"Dat ar soger has hab his chance," he reasoned. "Ef he want de box he
+mus' 'a' com arter it las' night. I'se done bin fa'r wid him, an' now
+ter-night, ef dat ar box ain' 'sturbed, I'se a-gwine ter see de
+'scription an' heft on it. Toder night I was so 'fuscated dat I
+couldn't know nuffin straight."
+
+When all were sleeping, he stole to the persimmon-tree and was elated
+to find his treasure where he had slightly buried it. The little box
+seemed heavy, and was wholly unlike anything he ever seen before.
+
+"Ob cose it's got money in it," Jeff reasoned. "Nuffin else 'ud be done
+up to tight and strong. I'se woan open it jes' yet, feared de missus or
+de colored boys 'spec' someting. Ki! I isn't a-gwine ter be tied up,
+an' hab dat box whip out in me. I'll tink how I kin hide an' spen' de
+money kine of slowcution like." With this he restored the prize to its
+shallow excavation and covered it with leaves that no trace of fresh
+earth might be visible.
+
+Jeff's deportment now began to evince a new evolution in mental and
+moral process. The influence of riches was quite as marked upon him as
+upon so many of his white brothers and sisters, proving their essential
+kinship. To-day he began to sniff disdainfully at his menial tasks; and
+in the evening "Ole Dan Tucker" resounded from his fiddle with a
+rollicking abandon over which the cook groaned in despair, "Dat ar
+niggah's 'ligion drop off ob 'im like a yaller pig from de bush.
+'Ligion dat's skeert inter us hain't no 'count anyhow."
+
+During the next few days it was evident that Jeff was falling from
+grace rapidly. Never had he been so slow and careless in his tasks.
+More than once the thought crossed his mind that he had better take his
+box and "cut stick" for Washington, where he believed that wealth and
+his fiddle would give him prominence over his race. For prudential and
+other reasons he was in no haste to open the box, preferring rather to
+gloat over it and to think how he could spend the money to the greatest
+advantage. He had been paying his court to a girl as black as himself
+on a neighboring plantation; but he now regarded that affair as
+preposterous.
+
+"She ain' good nuff fer me no mo'," he reasoned. "I'se a-gwine ter
+shine up ter dat yeller Suky dat's been a-holdin' her head so high ober
+ter Marse Perkins's. I'se invited ter play ober dar ter-night, an' I'll
+make dat gal open her eye. Ki! she tinks no culled gemmen in dese parts
+fit ter hole a cannle when she braid her long straight ha'r, but when
+she see de ribbin I kin git her ter tie dat ha'r up wid, an' de
+earrings I kin put in her ears, she larf on toder side ob her face.
+'Fo' I go I'se a-gwine ter buy dat ar gole ring ob Sam Milkins down at
+de tavern. S'pose it does take all I'se been sabin' up, I'se needn't
+sabe any mo'. Dat ar box got nuff in it ter keep me like a lawd de rest
+ob my life. I'd open it ter-night if I wasn't goin' ter Marse
+Perkins's."
+
+Jeff carried out his high-handed measures and appeared that evening at
+"Marse Perkins's" with a ring of portentous size squeezed on the little
+finger of his left hand. It had something of the color of gold, and
+that is the best that can be said of it; but it had left its purchaser
+penniless. This fact sat lightly on Jeff's mind, however, as he
+remembered the box at the foot of the persimmon-tree; and he stalked
+into the detached kitchen, where a dusky assemblage were to indulge in
+a shuffle, with the air of one who intends that his superiority shall
+be recognized at once.
+
+"Law sakes, Jeff!" said Mandy, his hitherto ebon flame, "yer comes in
+like a turkey gobbler. Doesn't yer know me?"
+
+"Sartin I know yer, Mandy. You'se a good gal in you'se way, but, law!
+you'se had yer spell. A culled gemmen kin change his min' when he sees
+dat de 'finity's done gone."
+
+"Look here, Jeff Wobbles, does yer mean ter give me de sack?"
+
+"I mean ter gib yer good-ebenin', Miss Mandy Munson. Yer kyant 'spec' a
+gemmen to be degaged in de music an' a gal at de same time," replied
+Jeff, with oppressive gravity.
+
+"Mister Johnsing, I'se tank yer fo' yer arm," said Mandy to a man near,
+with responsive dignity. "Yer wait on me here, an' yer kin wait on me
+home. I'se 'shamed on mysef dat I took up wid a lout dat kin do nuffin
+but fiddle; but I was kine ob sorry fer him, he sich a fool."
+
+"Go 'long," remarked Jeff, smiling mysteriously. "Ef yer knowed, yer
+'ud be wringin' yer han's wuss dan yer did at de las' 'tracted meetin'.
+Ah, Miss Suky, dat you?" and Jeff for the first time doffed his hat.
+
+"Wat's in de win', Jeff, dat yer so scrumptious an' bumptious like dis
+ebenin'?" Suky asked a trifle scornfully.
+
+"Wen de 'freshments parse 'roun', I'se 'steem it a oblergation ter me
+ef yer'll let me bring yer de cake an' cider. I'se sumpin fer yer.
+Gemmen an' ladies, took yer places," he added in a stentorian voice; "I
+ax yer' sideration fer bein' late, cose I had 'portant business; now,
+
+  "Bow dar, scrape dar;
+  Doan hang about de doah.
+  Shine up ter de pretty gals,
+  An' lead 'em on de floah"--
+
+his fiddle seconding his exhortation with such inciting strains that
+soon there was not a foot but was keeping time.
+
+Suky observed that the musician had eyes for her only, and that toward
+all others he maintained his depressing superiority. In vain did Mandy
+lavish tokens of favor on "Mister Johnsing." Jeff did not lose his
+sudden and unexpected indifference; while the great ring glistening on
+his finger added to the mystery. There were many whispered surmises;
+but gradually the conjecture that he had "foun' a heap ob Linkum money"
+was regarded as the best explanation of the marked change in his
+bearing.
+
+Curiosity soon became more potent than Jeff's fiddle, and the
+"'freshments" were hurried up. So far from resenting this, Jeff put his
+violin under his arm and stalked across the improvised ball-room to
+Miss Suky, oblivious of the fact that she had a suitor on either side.
+
+"Gemmen," he remarked with condescension, "dis lady am degaged ter me
+durin' de 'freshments period,'" and he held out his arm in such a way
+that the massive ring glittered almost under Suky's nose. The magnet
+drew. His arm was taken in spite of the protests of the enamored swains.
+
+"Permit me de suggestation," continued Jeff, "dat ter a lady ob yer
+'finement, dis place am not fit ter breve in. Wha's mo', I doan 'cline
+ter hab dese yer common niggahs a-whisperin' an' a-pintin' an'
+a-'jecturin' about us. Lemme yet yer a seat under de lite ob de risin'
+moon. De dusk'll obscuate yer loveleness so I'se dar' tell all de news."
+
+Suky, mystified and expectant, but complacent over another conquest,
+made no objections to these whispered "suggestations," and was led to a
+seat under the shadow of a tree. A chorus of not very flattering
+remarks broke out, ceasing as suddenly when Jeff returned for a portion
+of the cake and cider.
+
+"Mister Wobbles, yer's prettin' on high de airs ter-night," Suky
+remarked, with an interrogation point in her voice.
+
+"Here's ter de health ob Mrs. Wobbles," he answered, lifting the cider
+to his lips.
+
+"I'se no 'jections ter dat. Who is she ter be?" replied Suky, very
+innocently.
+
+"It's not my 'tention ter go furder and far' wuss. Dis am a case wha de
+presen' company am not 'cepted."
+
+"No, not axcepted jes' yet, Mr. Wobbles, if yer'se 'dressin' yer
+remarks ter me. Yer is goin' on jes' a little too far."
+
+"P'raps a little far; but yer'll soon catch up wid me. Yer'se a lady
+dat got a min' ob her own, I hope?"
+
+"It's mine yet, anyhow."
+
+"An' yer kin keep as mum as a possum w'en de cawn is in de milk?"
+
+"Dat 'pends."
+
+"Ob cose it does. But I'll trus' yer; yer ain' de one ter bite yer own
+nose off. Does yer see dat ar ring, Suky? Law! how pretty dat look on
+yer degaged finger!"
+
+"'Tain' dar yet."
+
+"Lemme put it dar. Ki! wouldn't dey look an' gape an' pint in dar
+yonder w'en yer come a-sailin' in wid dat ring on?"
+
+"Yes; dey tink me a big fool ter be captivated by a ring--brass, too,
+like anuff."
+
+"No, Suky, it's gole--yallow gole, di 'plexion ob yer own fair han'.
+But, law! dis ain' nuffin ter what I'se 'll git yer. Yer'se shall hab
+rings an' dresses an' jules till yer 'stinguish de oder gals like de
+sun put out de stars."
+
+"What yer foun', Jeff Wobbles?"
+
+"I'se foun' what'll make yer a lady if yer hab sense. I'se gib yer de
+compliment ob s'lecting yer ter shar' my fine if yer'll lemme put dis
+ring on yer degaged finger."
+
+"Yer doan say nuffin 'bout lub in dis yer 'rangement," Suky simpered,
+sidling up to him.
+
+"Oh, dat kind ob sent'ment 'll do fer common niggahs," Jeff explained
+with dignity. "I'se hurd my missus talk 'bout 'liances 'twixt people of
+quality. Ki! Suky, I'se in a'sition now ter make a 'liance wid yer. Yer
+ain' like dat low gal, Mandy. What Mister Johnsing ebber hab ter gib
+her but a lickin' some day? I'se done wid dat common class; I may
+fiddle fur 'em now an' den, jes' ter see dem sport deysefs, while I'se
+lookin' on kin' ob s'periur like, yer know. But den, dey ain' our kin'
+ob folks. Yer'se got qulities dat'll shine like de risin' moon dar."
+Then in a whisper he added, "De Linkum sogers is off dar ter the
+east'erd. One night's trabel an' dey'd sen' us on ter Washin'on. Onst
+yer git dar, an' hab all de jules an' dresses dat I gib yer, dar's not
+a culled gemmen dereaway but 'ud bow down ter yer."
+
+Here was a dazzling vista that Suky could not resist. Her ideas of
+freedom, like those of Jeff, were not very exalted. At that period,
+slave property in the vicinity of the Union lines was fast melting
+away; and scarcely a night elapsed but some one was missing, the more
+adventurous and intelligent escaping first, and others following as
+opportunity and motive pointed the way. The region under consideration
+had not yet been occupied by the Federals, and there was still no
+slight risk involved in flight. Suky did not realize the magnitude of
+the project. She was not the first of her sex to be persuaded by a
+cavalier and promised gold to take a leap into the dark.
+
+As a result of Jeff's representations the "'liance" was made there and
+then, secrecy promised, and an escape to Washington agreed upon as soon
+as circumstances permitted--Suky's mind, I regret to say, dwelling more
+on "gemmen bowing down" to her than on the devotion of the allied
+suitor.
+
+No lady of rank in Timbuctoo could have sailed into the kitchen
+ball-room with greater state than Suky now after the compact had been
+made, Jeff supporting her on his arm with the conscious air of one who
+has taken the prize from all competitors. With the assurance of a
+potentate he ensconced himself in the orchestra corner and called the
+dancers to their feet.
+
+But the spirit of mutiny was present. Eager eyes noted that the ring on
+his bow-hand was gone. Then it was seen glistening on Suky's hand as
+she ostentatiously fanned herself. The clamor broke out, "Mister
+Johnsing," incited by Mandy and the two swains between whom Suky had
+been sandwiched, leading the revolt against Jeff's arrogance and
+success.
+
+There were many, however, who had no personal wrongs to right, and who
+did not relish being made a cat's-paw by the disaffected. These were
+bent on the natural progression and conclusion of the dance. In
+consequence of the wordy uproar the master of the premises appeared and
+cleared them all out, sending his own servants to their quarters.
+
+Jeff nearly came to grief that night, for a party of the malcontents
+followed him on his homeward walk. Suspecting their purpose, he dodged
+behind some shrubbery, heard their threats to break his head and smash
+his fiddle, and then went back to a tryst with Suky.
+
+That sagacious damsel had been meditating on the proposed alliance.
+Even in her rather sophisticated mind she had regarded a semblance of
+love as essential; but since Jeff had put everything on such superior
+grounds, she felt that she should prove herself fit for new and exalted
+conditions of life by seeing to it that he made good all his remarkable
+promises. She remembered that he had not yet opened the box of money,
+and became a little sceptical as to its contents. Somebody might have
+watched Jeff, and have carried it off.
+
+True, she had the ring, but that was not the price of her hand. Nothing
+less than had been promised would answer now; and when she stole out to
+meet Jeff she told him so. Under the witching moonlight he began to
+manifest tendencies to sentiment and tenderness. Her response was
+prompt: "Go 'long! what dese common niggah ways got ter do wid a
+'liance? Yer show me de gole in dat box--dat's de bargain. Den de
+'liance hole me fas', an' I'll help yer spen' de money in Washin'on.
+We'll hab a weddin' scrumptious as white folks. But, law sakes! Jeff
+Wobbles, 't ain' no kin' ob 'liance till I see dat gole an' hab some ob
+it too!"
+
+Jeff had to succumb like many a higher-born suitor before him, with the
+added chagrin of remembering that he had first suggested the purely
+businesslike aspect of his motive.
+
+"Berry well; meet me here ter-morrer night when I whistle like a
+whip-o'-will. But yer ain' so smart as yer tink yer are, Suky. Yer'se
+made it cl'ar ter me dat I'se got ter keep de han'lin' ob dat gole or
+you'll be a-carryin' dis 'liance business too far! If I gib yer gole, I
+expec' yer ter shine up an be 'greeable-like ter me ebbery way yer know
+how. Dat's only fa'r, doggoned ef it ain'!" and Jeff spoke in a very
+aggrieved tone.
+
+Wily Suky chucked him under the chin, saying: "Show me de color ob de
+gole an' de 'liance come out all right." Then she retired, believing
+that negotiations had proceeded far enough for the present.
+
+Jeff went home feeling that he had been forewarned and forearmed. Since
+her heart responded to a golden key only, he would keep that key and
+use it judiciously.
+
+During the early hours of the following night Jeff was very wary and
+soon discovered that he was watched. He coolly slipped the collar from
+a savage dog, and soon there was a stampede from a neighboring grove.
+An hour after, when all had become quiet again, he took the dog and,
+armed with an axe, started out, fully resolved on breaking the
+treasure-box which he had been hoarding.
+
+The late moon had risen, giving to Jeff a gnome-like aspect as he dug
+at the root of the persimmon-tree. The mysterious box soon gleamed with
+a pale light in his hand, like the leaden casket that contained
+Portia's radiant face. Surely, when he struck the "open sesame" blow,
+that beauty which captivates young and old alike would dazzle his eyes.
+With heart now devoid of all compunction, and exultant in anticipation,
+he struck the box, shaving off the end he held furthest from him. An
+"ancient fish-like smell" filled the air; Jeff sank on the ground and
+stared at sardines and rancid oil dropping instead of golden dollars
+from his treasure-box. They scarcely touched the ground before the dog
+snapped them all up.
+
+The bewildered negro knew not what to think. Had fish been the original
+contents of the box, or had the soldier's spook transformed the gold
+into this horrid mess? One thing, however, was clear--he had lost, not
+only Suky, but prestige. The yellow girl would scorn him, and tell of
+his preposterous promises. Mandy had been offended beyond hope, and he
+would become the laughing-stock and byword of all the colored boys for
+miles around.
+
+"Dar's nuffin lef fer me but ter put out fer freedom," he soliloquized;
+"ki! I'se a-gwine ter git eben wid dat yallar gal yet. I'll cut stick
+ter-morrer night and she'll tink I 'sconded alone, totin' de box wid
+me, and dat she was too sharp in dat 'liance business."
+
+So it turned out; Jeff and his fiddle vanished, leaving nothing to
+sustain Suky under the gibes of her associates except the ring, which
+she eventually learned was as brazen as her own ambition.
+
+Jeff wandered into the service of a Union officer whose patience he
+tried even more than that of his tolerant Southern mistress; but when
+by the camp-fire he brought out his violin, all his shortcomings were
+condoned.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CAUGHT ON THE EBB-TIDE
+
+
+The August morning was bright and fair, but Herbert Scofield's brow was
+clouded. He had wandered off to a remote part of the grounds of a
+summer hotel on the Hudson, and seated in the shade of a tree, had
+lapsed into such deep thought that his cigar had gone out and the birds
+were becoming bold in the vicinity of his motionless figure.
+
+It was his vacation time and he had come to the country ostensibly for
+rest. As the result, he found himself in the worst state of unrest that
+he had ever known. Minnie Madison, a young lady he had long admired,
+was the magnet that had drawn him hither. Her arrival had preceded his
+by several weeks; and she had smiled a little consciously when in
+looking at the hotel register late one afternoon his bold chirography
+met her eye.
+
+"There are so many other places to which he might have gone," she
+murmured.
+
+Her smile, however, was a doubtful one, not expressive of gladness and
+entire satisfaction. In mirthful, saucy fashion her thoughts ran on:
+"The time has come when he might have a respite from business. Does he
+still mean business by coming here? I'm not sure that I do, although
+the popular idea seems to be that a girl should have no vacation in the
+daily effort to find a husband. I continually disappoint the good
+people by insisting that the husband must find me. I have a
+presentiment that Mr. Scofield is looking for me; but there are some
+kinds of property which cannot be picked up and carried off, nolens
+volens, when found."
+
+Scofield had been animated by no such clearly defined purpose as he was
+credited with when he sought the summer resort graced by Miss Madison.
+His action seemed to him tentative, his motive ill-defined even in his
+own consciousness, yet it had been strong enough to prevent any
+hesitancy. He knew he was weary from a long year's work. He purposed to
+rest and take life very leisurely, and he had mentally congratulated
+himself that he was doing a wise thing in securing proximity to Miss
+Madison. She had evoked his admiration in New York, excited more than a
+passing interest, but he felt that he did not know her very well. In
+the unconventional life now in prospect he could see her daily and
+permit his interest to be dissipated or deepened, as the case might be,
+while he remained, in the strictest sense of the world, uncommitted. It
+was a very prudent scheme and not a bad one. He reasoned justly: "This
+selecting a wife is no bagatelle. A man wishes to know something more
+about a woman than he can learn in a drawing-room or at a theatre
+party."
+
+But now he was in trouble. He had been unable to maintain this judicial
+aspect. He had been made to understand at the outset that Miss Madison
+did not regard herself as a proper subject for deliberate
+investigation, and that she was not inclined to aid in his researches.
+So far from meeting him with engaging frankness and revealing her
+innermost soul for his inspection, he found her as elusive as only a
+woman of tact can be when so minded, even at a place where people meet
+daily. It was plain to him from the first that he was not the only man
+who favored her with admiring glances; and he soon discovered that
+young Merriweather and his friend Hackley had passed beyond the neutral
+ground of non-committal. He set himself the task of learning how far
+these suitors had progressed in her good graces; he would not be guilty
+of the folly of giving chase to a prize already virtually captured.
+This too had proved a failure. Clearly, would he know what Mr.
+Merriweather and Mr. Hackley were to Miss Madison he must acquire the
+power of mind reading. Each certainly appeared to be a very good friend
+of hers--a much better friend than he could claim to be, for in his
+case she maintained a certain unapproachableness which perplexed and
+nettled him.
+
+After a week of rest, observation, and rather futile effort to secure a
+reasonable share of Miss Madison's society and attention, he became
+assured that he was making no progress whatever so far as she was
+concerned, but very decided progress in a condition of mind and heart
+anything but agreeable should the affair continue so one-sided. He had
+hoped to see her daily, and was not disappointed. He had intended to
+permit his mind to receive such impressions as he should choose; and
+now his mind asked no permission whatever, but without volition
+occupied itself with her image perpetually. He was not sure whether she
+satisfied his preconceived ideals of what a wife should be or not, for
+she maintained such a firm reticence in regard to herself that he could
+put his finger on no affinities. She left no doubt as to her
+intelligence, but beyond that she would not reveal herself to him. He
+was almost satisfied that she discouraged him utterly and that it would
+be wiser to depart before his feelings became more deeply involved. At
+any rate he had better do this or else make love in dead earnest. Which
+course should he adopt?
+
+There came a day which brought him to a decision.
+
+A party had been made up for an excursion into the Highlands, Miss
+Madison being one of the number. She was a good pedestrian and rarely
+missed a chance for a ramble among the hills. Scofield's two rivals
+occasionally got astray with her in the perplexing wood-roads, but he
+never succeeded in securing such good-fortune. On this occasion, as
+they approached a woodchopper's cottage (or rather, hovel), there were
+sounds of acute distress within--the piercing cries of a child
+evidently in great pain. There was a moment of hesitancy in the party,
+and then Miss Madison's graceful indifference vanished utterly. As she
+ran hastily to the cabin, Scofield felt that now probably was a chance
+for more than mere observation, and he kept beside her. An ugly cur
+sought to bar entrance; but his vigorous kick sent it howling away. She
+gave him a quick pleased look as they entered. A slatternly woman was
+trying to soothe a little boy, who at all her attempts only writhed and
+shrieked the more. "I dunno what ails the young one," she said. "I
+found him a moment ago yellin' at the foot of a tree. Suthin's the
+matter with his leg."
+
+"Yes," cried Miss Madison, delicately feeling of the member--an
+operation which, even under her gentle touch, caused increased outcry,
+"it is evidently broken. Let me take him on my lap;" and Scofield saw
+that her face had softened into the tenderest pity.
+
+"I will bring a surgeon at the earliest possible moment," exclaimed
+Scofield, turning to go.
+
+Again she gave him an approving glance which warmed his heart. "The ice
+is broken between us now," he thought, as he broke through the group
+gathering at the open door.
+
+Never before had he made such time down a mountain, for he had a
+certain kind of consciousness that he was not only going after the
+doctor, but also after the girl. Securing a stout horse and wagon at
+the hotel, he drove furiously for the surgeon, explained the urgency,
+and then, with the rural healer at his side, almost killed the horse in
+returning.
+
+He found his two rivals at the cabin door, the rest of the party having
+gone on. Miss Madison came out quickly. An evanescent smile flitted
+across her face as she saw his kindled eyes and the reeking horse,
+which stood trembling and with bowed head. His ardor was a little
+dampened when she went directly to the poor beast and said, "This horse
+is a rather severe indictment against you, Mr. Scofield. There was need
+of haste, but--" and she paused significantly.
+
+"Yes," added the doctor, springing out, "I never saw such driving! It's
+lucky our necks are not broken."
+
+"You are all right, Doctor, and ready for your work," Scofield remarked
+brusquely. "As for the horse, I'll soon bring him around;" and he
+rapidly began to unhitch the over-driven animal.
+
+"What are you going to do?" Miss Madison asked curiously.
+
+"Rub him into as good shape as when he started."
+
+She turned away to hide a smile as she thought, "He has waked up at
+last."
+
+The boy was rendered unconscious, and his leg speedily put in the way
+of restoration. "He will do very well now if my directions are carried
+out strictly," the physician was saying when Scofield entered.
+
+Mr. Merriweather and Mr. Hackley stood rather helplessly in the
+background and were evidently giving more thought to the fair nurse
+than to the patient. The mother was alternating between lamentations
+and invocations of good on the "young leddy's" head. Finding that he
+would come in for a share of the latter, Scofield retreated again. Miss
+Madison walked quietly out, and looking critically at the horse,
+remarked, "You have kept your word very well, Mr. Scofield. The poor
+creature does look much improved." She evidently intended to continue
+her walk with the two men in waiting, for she said demurely with an air
+of dismissal, "You will have the happy consciousness of having done a
+good deed this morning."
+
+"Yes," replied Scofield, in significant undertone; "you, of all others,
+Miss Madison, know how inordinately happy I shall be in riding back to
+the village with the doctor."
+
+She raised her eyebrows in a little well-feigned surprise at his words,
+then turned away.
+
+During the remainder of the day he was unable to see her alone for a
+moment, or to obtain any further reason to believe that the ice was in
+reality broken between them. But his course was no longer noncommittal,
+even to the most careless observer. The other guests of the house
+smiled; and Mr. Merriweather and Mr. Hackley looked askance at one who
+threw their assiduous attentions quite into the shade. Miss Madison
+maintained her composure, was oblivious as far as possible, and
+sometimes when she could not appear blind, looked a little surprised
+and even offended.
+
+He had determined to cast prudence and circumlocution to the winds. On
+the morning following the episode in the mountains he was waiting to
+meet her when she came down to breakfast. "I've seen that boy, Miss
+Madison, and he's doing well."
+
+"What! so early? You are a very kind-hearted man, Mr. Scofield."
+
+"About as they average. That you are kind-hearted I know--at least to
+every one except me--for I saw your expression as you examined the
+little fellow's injury yesterday. You thought only of the child--"
+
+"I hope you did also, Mr. Scofield," she replied with an exasperating
+look of surprise.
+
+"You know well I did not," he answered bluntly. "I thought it would be
+well worth while to have my leg broken if you would look at me in the
+same way."
+
+"Truly, Mr. Scofield, I fear you are not as kind-hearted as I supposed
+you to be;" and then she turned to greet Mr. Merriweather.
+
+"Won't you let me drive you up to see the boy?" interposed Scofield,
+boldly.
+
+"I'm sorry, but I promised to go up with the doctor this morning."
+
+And so affairs went on. He thought at times her color quickened a
+little when he approached suddenly; he fancied that he occasionally
+surprised a half-wistful, half-mirthful glance, but was not sure. He
+knew that she was as well aware of his intentions and wishes as if he
+had proclaimed them through a speaking-trumpet. His only assured ground
+of comfort was that neither Mr. Merriweather nor Mr. Hackley had yet
+won the coveted prize, though they evidently were receiving far greater
+opportunities to push their suit than he had been favored with.
+
+At last his vacation was virtually at an end. But two more days would
+elapse before he must be at his desk again in the city. And now we will
+go back to the time when we found him that early morning brooding over
+his prospects, remote from observation. What should he do--propose by
+letter? "No," he said after much cogitation. "I can see that little
+affected look of surprise with which she would read my plain
+declaration of what she knows so well. Shall I force a private
+interview with her? The very word 'force,' which I have unconsciously
+used, teaches me the folly of this course. She doesn't care a rap for
+me, and I should have recognized the truth long ago. I'll go back to
+the hotel and act toward her precisely as she has acted toward me. I
+can then at least take back to town a little shred of dignity."
+
+He appeared not to see her when she came down to breakfast. After the
+meal was over he sat on the piazza engrossed in the morning paper. An
+excursion party for the mountains was forming. He merely bowed politely
+as she passed him to join it, but he ground his teeth as he saw
+Merriweather and Hackley escorting her away. When they were out of
+sight he tossed the paper aside and went down to the river, purposing
+to row the fever out of his blood. He was already satisfied how
+difficult his tactics would be should he continue to see her, and he
+determined to be absent all day, to so tire himself out that exhaustion
+would bring early sleep on his return.
+
+Weary and leaden-spirited enough he was, as late in the afternoon he
+made his way back, but firm in sudden resolve to depart on an early
+train in the morning and never voluntarily to see the obdurate lady of
+his affections again.
+
+Just as the sun was about sinking he approached a small wooded island
+about half a mile from the boat-house, and was surprised to notice a
+rowboat high and dry upon the beach. "Some one has forgotten that the
+tide is going out," he thought, as he passed; but it was no affair of
+his.
+
+A voice called faintly, "Mr. Scofield!"
+
+He started at the familiar tones, and looked again. Surely that was
+Miss Madison standing by the prow of the stranded skiff! He knew well
+indeed it was she; and he put his boat about with an energy not in
+keeping with his former languid strokes. Then, recollecting himself, he
+became pale with the self-control he purposed to maintain, "She is in a
+scrape," he thought; "and calls upon me as she would upon any one else
+to get her out of it."
+
+Weariness and discouragement inclined him to be somewhat reckless and
+brusque in his words and manner. Under the compulsion of circumstances
+she who would never graciously accord him opportunities must now be
+alone with him; but as a gentleman, he could not take advantage of her
+helplessness, to plead his cause, and he felt a sort of rage that he
+should be mocked with an apparent chance which was in fact no chance at
+all.
+
+His boat stranded several yards from the shore. Throwing down his oars,
+he rose and faced her. Was it the last rays of the setting sun which
+made her face so rosy, or was it embarrassment?
+
+"I'm in a dilemma, Mr. Scofield," Miss Madison began hesitatingly.
+
+"And you would rather be in your boat," he added.
+
+"That would not help me any, seeing where my boat is. I have done such
+a stupid thing! I stole away here to finish a book, and--well--I didn't
+notice that the tide was running out. I'm sure I don't know what I'm
+going to do."
+
+Scofield put his shoulder to an oar and tried to push his craft to what
+deserved the name of shore, but could make little headway. He was glad
+to learn by the effort, however, that the black mud was not
+unfathomable in depth. Hastily reversing his action, he began pushing
+his boat back in the water.
+
+"Surely, Mr. Scofield, you do not intend to leave me," began Miss
+Madison.
+
+"Surely not," he replied; "but then, since you are so averse to my
+company, I must make sure that my boat does not become as fast as yours
+on this ebb-tide, otherwise we should both have to wait till the flood."
+
+"Oh, beg pardon! I now understand. But how can you reach me?"
+
+"Wade," he replied coolly, proceeding to take off his shoes and
+stockings.
+
+"What! through that horrid black mud?"
+
+"I couldn't leap that distance, Miss Madison."
+
+"It's too bad! I'm so provoked with myself! The mud may be very deep,
+or there may be a quicksand or something."
+
+"In which case I should merely disappear a little earlier;" and he
+sprang overboard up to his knees, dragged the boat till it was
+sufficiently fast in the ooze to be stationary, then he waded ashore.
+
+"Well," she said with a little deprecatory laugh, "it's a comfort not
+to be alone on a desert island."
+
+"Indeed! Can I be welcome under any circumstances?"
+
+"Truly, Mr. Scofield, you know that you were never more welcome. It's
+very kind of you."
+
+"Any man would be glad to come to your aid. It is merely your
+misfortune that I happen to be the one."
+
+"I'm not sure that I regard it as a very great misfortune. You proved
+in the case of that little boy that you can act very energetically."
+
+"And get lectured for my intemperate zeal. Well, Miss Madison, I cannot
+make a very pleasing spectacle with blackamoor legs, and it's time I
+put my superfluous energy to some use. Suppose you get in your boat,
+and I'll try to push it off."
+
+She complied with a troubled look in her face. He pushed till the veins
+knotted on his forehead. At this she sprang out, exclaiming, "You'll
+burst a blood-vessel."
+
+"That's only a phase of a ruptured heart, and you are used to such
+phenomena."
+
+"It's too bad for you to talk in that way," she cried.
+
+"It certainly is. I will now attend strictly to business."
+
+"I don't see what you can do."
+
+"Carry you out to my boat--that is all I can do."
+
+"Oh, Mr. Scofield!"
+
+"Can you suggest anything else?"
+
+She looked dubiously at the intervening black mud, and was silent.
+
+"I could go up to the hotel and bring Mr. Merriweather and Mr. Hackley."
+
+She turned away to hide her tears.
+
+"Or I could go after a brawny boatman; but delay is serious, for the
+tide is running out fast and the stretch of mud growing wider. Can you
+not imagine me Mike or Tim, or some fellow of that sort."
+
+"No, I can't."
+
+"Then perhaps you wish me to go for Mike or Tim?"
+
+"But the tide is running out so fast, you said."
+
+"Yes, and it will soon be dark."
+
+"Oh, dear!" and there was distress in her tones.
+
+He now said kindly, "Miss Madison, I wish that like Sir Walter Raleigh
+I had a mantle large enough for you to walk over. You can at least
+imagine that I am a gentleman, that you may soon be at the hotel, and
+no one ever be any the wiser that you had to choose between me and the
+deep--ah, well--mud."
+
+"There is no reason for such an allusion, Mr. Scofield."
+
+"Well, then, that you had no other choice."
+
+"That's better. But how in the world can you manage it?"
+
+"You will have to put your arm around my neck."
+
+"Oh!"
+
+"You would put your arm around a post, wouldn't you?" he asked with
+more than his old brusqueness.
+
+"Yes-s; but--"
+
+"But the tide is going out. My own boat will soon be fast. Dinner will
+grow cold at the hotel, and you are only the longer in dispensing with
+me. You must consider the other dire alternatives."
+
+"Ob, I forgot that you were in danger of losing a warm dinner."
+
+"You know I have lost too much to think of that or much else. But there
+is no need of satire, Miss Madison. I will do whatever you wish. That
+truly is carte blanche enough even for this occasion."
+
+"I didn't mean to be satirical. I--I--Well, have your own way."
+
+"Not if you prefer some other way."
+
+"You have shown that practically there isn't any other way. I'm sorry
+that my misfortune, or fault rather, should also be your misfortune.
+You don't know how heavy--"
+
+"I soon will, and you must endure it all with such grace as you can.
+Put your arm round my neck, so--oh, that will never do! Well, you'll
+hold tight enough when I'm floundering in the mud."
+
+Without further ado he picked her up, and started rapidly for his boat.
+Stepping on a smooth stone he nearly fell, and her arm did tighten
+decidedly.
+
+"If you try to go so fast," she said, "you will fall."
+
+"I was only seeking to shorten your ordeal, but for obvious reasons
+must go slowly;" and he began feeling his way.
+
+"Mr. Scofield, am I not very heavy?" she asked softly.
+
+"Not as heavy as my heart, and you know it."
+
+"I'm sure I--"
+
+"No, you are not to blame. Moths have scorched their wings before now,
+and will always continue to do so."
+
+Her head rested slightly against his shoulder; her breath fanned his
+cheek; her eyes, soft and lustrous, sought his. But he looked away
+gloomy and defiant, and she felt his grasp tighten vise-like around
+her. "I shall not affect any concealment of the feelings which she has
+recognized so often, nor shall I ask any favors," he thought. "There,"
+he said, as he placed her in his boat, "you are safe enough now. Now go
+aft while I push off."
+
+When she was seated he exerted himself almost as greatly as before, and
+the boat gradually slid into the water. He sprang in and took the oars.
+
+"Aren't you going to put on your shoes and stockings?"
+
+"Certainly, when I put you ashore."
+
+"Won't that be a pretty certain way of revealing the plight in which
+you found me?"
+
+"Pardon my stupidity; I was preoccupied with the thought of relieving
+you from the society which you have hitherto avoided so successfully;"
+and bending over his shoes he tied them almost savagely.
+
+There was a wonderful degree of mirth and tenderness in her eyes as she
+watched him. They had floated by a little point; and as he raised his
+head he saw a form which he recognized as Mr. Merriweather rowing
+toward them. "There comes one of your shadows," he said mockingly. "Be
+careful how you exchange boats when he comes along-side. I will give
+you no help in such a case."
+
+She looked hastily over her shoulder at the approaching oarsman. "I
+think it will be safer to remain in your boat," she said.
+
+"Oh, it will be entirely safe," he replied bitterly.
+
+"Mr. Merriweather must have seen you carrying me."
+
+"That's another thing which I can't help."
+
+"Mr. Scofield," she began softly.
+
+He arrested his oars, and turned wondering eyes to hers. They were
+sparkling with mirth as she continued, "Are you satisfied that a
+certain young woman whom you once watched very narrowly is entirely to
+your mind?"
+
+He caught her mirthful glance and misunderstood her. With dignity he
+answered, "I'm not the first man who blundered to his cost, though
+probably it would have made no difference. You must do me the justice,
+however, to admit that I did not maintain the role of observer very
+long--that I wooed you so openly that every one was aware of my suit.
+Is it not a trifle cruel to taunt me after I had made such ample
+amends?"
+
+"I was thinking of Mr. Merriweather--"
+
+"Undoubtedly"
+
+"Since he has seen me with my arm around your neck--you know I couldn't
+help it--perhaps he might row the other way if--if--well, if he saw
+you--what shall I say--sitting over here--by me--or--Somehow I don't
+feel very hungry, and I wouldn't mind spending another hour--"
+
+Scofield nearly upset the boat in his precipitous effort to gain a seat
+beside her--and Mr. Merriweather did row another way.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHRISTMAS EVE IN WAR TIMES
+
+
+It was the beginning of a battle. The skirmish line of the Union
+advance was sweeping rapidly over a rough mountainous region in the
+South, and in his place on the extreme left of this line was Private
+Anson Marlow. Tall trees rising from underbrush, rocks, bowlders,
+gulches worn by spring torrents, were the characteristics of the field,
+which was in wild contrast with the parade-grounds on which the
+combatants had first learned the tactics of war. The majority, however,
+of those now in the ranks had since been drilled too often under like
+circumstances, and with lead and iron shotted guns, not to know their
+duty, and the lines of battle were as regular as the broken country
+allowed. So far as many obstacles permitted, Marlow kept his proper
+distance from the others on the line and fired coolly when he caught
+glimpses of the retreating Confederate skirmishers. They were retiring
+with ominous readiness toward a wooded height which the enemy occupied
+with a force of unknown strength. That strength was soon manifested in
+temporary disaster to the Union forces, which were driven back with
+heavy loss.
+
+Neither the battle nor its fortunes are the objects of our present
+concern, but rather the fate of Private Marlow. The tide of battle
+drifted away and left the soldier desperately wounded in a narrow
+ravine, through which babbled a small stream. Excepting the voices of
+his wife and children no music had ever sounded so sweetly in his ears.
+With great difficulty he crawled to a little bubbling pool formed by a
+tiny cascade and encircling stones, and partially slaked his
+intolerable thirst.
+
+He believed he was dying--bleeding to death. The very thought blunted
+his faculties for a time; and he was conscious of little beyond a dull
+wonder. Could it be possible that the tragedy of his death was enacting
+in that peaceful, secluded nook? Could Nature be so indifferent or so
+unconscious if it were true that he was soon to lie there DEAD? He saw
+the speckled trout lying motionless at the bottom of the pool, the gray
+squirrels sporting in the boughs over his head. The sunlight shimmered
+and glinted through the leaves, flecking with light his prostrate form.
+He dipped his hand in the blood that had welled from his side, and it
+fell in rubies from his fingers. Could that be his blood--his
+life-blood; and would it soon all ooze away? Could it be that death was
+coming through all the brightness of that summer afternoon?
+
+From a shadowed tree further up the glen, a wood-thrush suddenly began
+its almost unrivalled song. The familiar melody, heard so often from
+his cottage-porch in the June twilight, awoke him to the bitter truth.
+His wife had then sat beside him, while his little ones played here and
+there among the trees and shrubbery. They would hear the same song
+to-day; he would never hear it again. That counted for little; but the
+thought of their sitting behind the vines and listening to their
+favorite bird, spring after spring and summer after summer, and he ever
+absent, overwhelmed him.
+
+"Oh, Gertrude, my wife, my wife! Oh, my children!" he groaned.
+
+His breast heaved with a great sigh; the blood welled afresh from his
+wound; what seemed a mortal weakness crept over him; and he thought he
+died.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Say, Eb, is he done gone?"
+
+"'Clar to grashus if I know. 'Pears mighty like it." These words were
+spoken by two stout negroes, who had stolen to the battlefield as the
+sounds of conflict died away.
+
+"I'm doggoned if I tink dat he's dead. He's only swoonded," asserted
+the man addressed as Eb. "'Twon't do to lebe 'im here to die, Zack."
+
+"Sartin not; we'd hab bad luck all our days."
+
+"I reckon ole man Pearson will keep him; and his wife's a po'ful nuss."
+
+"Pearson orter; he's a Unioner."
+
+"S'pose we try him; 'tain't so bery fur off."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the morning of the 24th of December, Mrs. Anson Marlow sat in the
+living-room of her cottage, that stood well out in the suburbs of a
+Northern town. Her eyes were hollow and full of trouble that seemed
+almost beyond tears, and the bare room, that had been stripped of
+nearly every appliance and suggestion of comfort, but too plainly
+indicated one of the causes. Want was stamped on her thin face, that
+once had been so full and pretty; poverty in its bitter extremity was
+unmistakably shown by the uncarpeted floor, the meagre fire, and scanty
+furniture. It was a period of depression; work had been scarce, and
+much of the time she had been too ill and feeble to do more than care
+for her children. Away back in August her resources had been running
+low; but she had daily expected the long arrears of pay which her
+husband would receive as soon as the exigencies of the campaign
+permitted. Instead of these funds, so greatly needed, came the tidings
+of a Union defeat, with her husband's name down among the missing.
+Beyond that brief mention, so horrible in its vagueness, she had never
+heard a word from the one who not only sustained her home, but also her
+heart. Was he languishing in a Southern prison, or, mortally wounded,
+had he lingered out some terrible hours on that wild battlefield, a
+brief description of which had been so dwelt upon by her morbid fancy
+that it had become like one of the scenes in Dante's "Inferno"? For a
+long time she could not and would not believe that such an overwhelming
+disaster had befallen her and her children, although she knew that
+similar losses had come to thousands of others. Events that the world
+regards as not only possible but probable are often so terrible in
+their personal consequences that we shrink from even the bare thought
+of their occurrence.
+
+If Mrs. Marlow had been told from the first that her husband was dead,
+the shock resulting would not have been so injurious as the suspense
+that robbed her of rest for days, weeks, and months. She haunted the
+post-office, and if a stranger was seen coming up the street toward her
+cottage she watched feverishly for his turning in at her gate with the
+tidings of her husband's safety. Night after night she Jay awake,
+hoping, praying that she might hear his step returning on a furlough to
+which wounds or sickness had entitled him. The natural and inevitable
+result was illness and nervous prostration.
+
+Practical neighbors had told her that her course was all wrong; that
+she should be resigned and even cheerful for her children's sake; that
+she needed to sleep well and live well, in order that she might have
+strength to provide for them. She would make pathetic attempts to
+follow this sound and thrifty advice, but suddenly when at her work or
+in her troubled sleep, that awful word "missing" would pierce her heart
+like an arrow, and she would moan, and at times in the depths of her
+anguish cry out, "Oh, where is he? Shall I ever see him again?"
+
+But the unrelenting demands of life are made as surely upon the
+breaking as upon the happy heart. She and her children must have food,
+clothing, and shelter. Her illness and feebleness at last taught her
+that she must not yield to her grief, except so far as she was unable
+to suppress it; that for the sake of those now seemingly dependent upon
+her, she must rally every shattered nerve and every relaxed muscle.
+With a heroism far beyond that of her husband and his comrades in the
+field, she sought to fight the wolf from the door, or at least to keep
+him at bay. Although the struggle seemed a hopeless one, she patiently
+did her best from day to day, eking out her scanty earnings by the sale
+or pawning of such of her household goods as she could best spare. She
+felt that she would do anything rather than reveal her poverty or
+accept charity. Some help was more or less kindly offered, but beyond
+such aid as one neighbor may receive of another, she had said gently
+but firmly, "Not yet."
+
+The Marlows were comparative strangers in the city where they had
+resided. Her husband had been a teacher in one of its public schools,
+and his salary small. Patriotism had been his motive for entering the
+army, and while it had cost him a mighty struggle to leave his family,
+he felt that he had no more reason to hold back than thousands of
+others. He believed that he could still provide for those dependent
+upon him, and if he fell, those for whom he died would not permit his
+widow and children to suffer. But the first popular enthusiasm for the
+war had largely died out; the city was full of widows and orphans;
+there was depression of spirit, stagnation in business, and a very
+general disposition on the part of those who had means, to take care of
+themselves, and provide for darker days that might be in the immediate
+future. Sensitive, retiring Mrs. Marlow was not the one to push her
+claims or reveal her need. Moreover, she could never give up the hope
+that tidings from her husband might at any time bring relief and safety.
+
+But the crisis had come at last; and on this dreary December day she
+was face to face with absolute want. The wolf, with his gaunt eyes, was
+crouched beside her cold hearth. A pittance owed to her for work had
+not been paid. The little food left in the house had furnished the
+children an unsatisfying breakfast; she had eaten nothing. On the table
+beside her lay a note from the agent of the estate of which her home
+was a part, bidding her call that morning. She knew why--the rent was
+two months in arrears. It seemed like death to leave the house in which
+her husband had placed her, and wherein she had spent her happiest
+days. It stood well away from the crowded town. The little yard and
+garden, with their trees, vines, and shrubbery, some of which her
+husband had planted, were all dear from association. In the rear there
+was a grove and open fields, which, though not belonging to the
+cottage, were not forbidden to the children; and they formed a
+wonderland of delight in spring, summer, and fall. Must she take her
+active, restless boy Jamie, the image of his father, into a crowded
+tenement? Must golden-haired Susie, with her dower of beauty, be
+imprisoned in one close room, or else be exposed to the evil of corrupt
+association just beyond the threshold?
+
+Moreover, her retired home had become a refuge. Here she could hide her
+sorrow and poverty. Here she could touch what he had touched, and sit
+during the long winter evenings in his favorite corner by the fire.
+Around her, within and without, were the little appliances for her
+comfort which his hands had made, flow could she leave all this and
+live? Deep in her heart also the hope would linger that he would come
+again and seek her where he had left her.
+
+"O God!" she cried suddenly. "Thou wouldst not, couldst not permit him
+to die without one farewell word," and she buried her face in her hands
+and rocked back and forth, while hard, dry sobs shook her slight,
+famine-pinched form.
+
+The children stopped their play and came and leaned upon her lap.
+
+"Don't cry, mother," said Jamie, a little boy of ten. "I'll soon be big
+enough to work for you; and I'll get rich, and you shall have the
+biggest house in town. I'll take care of you if papa don't come back."
+
+Little Sue knew not what to say, but the impulse of her love was her
+best guide. She threw her arms around her mother's neck with such an
+impetuous and childlike outburst of affection that the poor woman's
+bitter and despairing thoughts were banished for a time. The deepest
+chord of her nature, mother love, was touched; and for her children's
+sake she rose up once more and faced the hard problems of her life.
+Putting on her bonnet and thin shawl (she had parted with much that she
+now so sorely needed), she went out into the cold December wind. The
+sky was clouded like her hopes, and the light, even in the morning
+hours, was dim and leaden-hued.
+
+She first called on Mr. Jackson, the agent from whom she rented her
+home, and besought him to give her a little more time.
+
+"I will beg for work from door to door," she said. "Surely in this
+Christian city there must be those who will give me work; and that is
+all I ask."
+
+The sleek, comfortable man, in his well-appointed office, was touched
+slightly, and said in a voice that was not so gruff as he at first had
+intended it should be:
+
+"Well, I will wait a week or two longer. If then you cannot pay
+something on what is already due, my duty to my employers will compel
+me to take the usual course. You have told me all along that your
+husband would surely return, and I have hated to say a word to
+discourage you; but I fear you will have to bring yourself to face the
+truth and act accordingly, as so many others have done. I know it's
+very hard for you, but I am held responsible by my employer, and at my
+intercession he has been lenient, as you must admit. You could get a
+room or two in town for half what you must pay where you are.
+Good-morning."
+
+She went out again into the street, which the shrouded sky made sombre
+in spite of preparations seen on every side for the chief festival of
+the year. The fear was growing strong that like Him in whose memory the
+day was honored, she and her little ones might soon not know where to
+lay their heads. She succeeded in getting the small sum owed to her and
+payment also for some sewing just finished. More work she could not
+readily obtain, for every one was busy and preoccupied by the coming
+day of gladness.
+
+"Call again," some said kindly or carelessly, according to their
+nature. "After the holidays are over we will try to have or make some
+work for you."
+
+"But I need--I must have work now," she ventured to say whenever she
+had the chance.
+
+In response to this appeal there were a few offers of charity, small
+indeed, but from which she drew back with an instinct so strong that it
+could not be overcome. On every side she heard the same story. The
+times were very hard; requests for work and aid had been so frequent
+that purses and patience were exhausted. Moreover, people had spent
+their Christmas money on their households and friends, and were already
+beginning to feel poor.
+
+At last she obtained a little work, and having made a few purchases of
+that which was absolutely essential, she was about to drag her weary
+feet homeward when the thought occurred to her that the children would
+want to hang up their stockings at night; and she murmured: "It may be
+the last chance I shall ever have to put a Christmas gift in them. Oh,
+that I were stronger! Oh, that I could take my sorrow more as others
+seem to take theirs! But I cannot, I cannot! My burden is greater than
+I can bear. The cold of this awful day is chilling my very heart, and
+my grief, as hope dies, is crushing my soul. Oh, he must be dead, he
+must be dead! That is what they all think. God help my little ones! Oh,
+what will become of them if I sink, as I fear I shall! If it were not
+for them I feel as if I would fall and die here in the street. Well, be
+our fate what it may, they shall owe to me one more gleam of
+happiness;" and she went into a confectioner's shop and bought a few
+ornamented cakes. These were the only gifts she could afford, and they
+must be in the form of food.
+
+Before she reached home the snow was whirling in the frosty air, and
+the shadows of the brief winter day deepening fast. With a smile far
+more pathetic than tears she greeted the children, who were cold,
+hungry, and frightened at her long absence; and they, children-like,
+saw only the smile, and not the grief it masked. They saw also the
+basket which she had placed on the table, and were quick to note that
+it seemed a little fuller than of late.
+
+"Jamie," she said, "run to the store down the street for some coal and
+kindlings that I bought, and then we will have a good fire and a nice
+supper;" and the boy, at such a prospect, eagerly obeyed.
+
+She was glad to have him gone, that she might hide her weakness. She
+sank into a chair, so white and faint that even little Susie left off
+peering into the basket, and came to her with a troubled face.
+
+"It's nothing, dearie," the poor creature said. "Mamma's only a little
+tired. See," she added, tottering to the table, "I have brought you a
+great piece of gingerbread."
+
+The hungry child grasped it, and was oblivious and happy.
+
+By the time Jamie returned with his first basket of kindling and coal,
+the mother had so far rallied from her exhaustion as to meet him
+smilingly again and help him replenish the dying fire.
+
+"Now you shall rest and have your gingerbread before going for your
+second load," she said cheerily; and the boy took what was ambrosia to
+him, and danced around the room in joyous reaction from the depression
+of the long weary day, during which, lonely and hungry, he had wondered
+why his mother did not return.
+
+"So little could make them happy, and yet I cannot seem to obtain even
+that little," she sighed. "I fear--indeed, I fear--I cannot be with
+them another Christmas; therefore they shall remember that I tried to
+make them happy once more, and the recollection may survive the long
+sad days before them, and become a part of my memory."
+
+The room was now growing dark, and she lighted the lamp. Then she
+cowered shiveringly over the reviving fire, feeling as if she could
+never be warm again.
+
+The street-lamps were lighted early on that clouded, stormy evening,
+and they were a signal to Mr. Jackson, the agent, to leave his office.
+He remembered that he had ordered a holiday dinner, and now found
+himself in a mood to enjoy it. He had scarcely left his door before a
+man, coming up the street with great strides and head bent down to the
+snow-laden blast, brushed roughly against him. The stranger's cap was
+drawn over his eyes, and the raised collar of his blue army overcoat
+nearly concealed his face. The man hurriedly begged pardon, and was
+hastening on when Mr. Jackson's exclamation of surprise caused him to
+stop and look at the person he had jostled.
+
+"Why, Mr. Marlow," the agent began, "I'm glad to see you. It's a
+pleasure I feared I should never have again."
+
+"My wife," the man almost gasped, "she's still in the house I rented of
+you?"
+
+"Oh, certainly," was the hasty reply. "It'll be all right' now."
+
+"What do you mean? Has it not been all right?"
+
+"Well, you see," said Mr. Jackson, apologetically, "we have been very
+lenient to your wife, but the rent has not been paid for over two
+months, and--"
+
+"And you were about to turn her and her children out-of-doors in
+midwinter," broke in the soldier, wrathfully. "That is the way you
+sleek, comfortable stay-at-home people care for those fighting your
+battles. After you concluded that I was dead, and that the rent might
+not be forthcoming, you decided to put my wife into the street. Open
+your office, sir, and you shall have your rent."
+
+"Now, Mr. Marlow, there's no cause for pitching into me in this way.
+You know that I am but an agent, and--"
+
+"Tell your rich employer, then, what I have said, and ask him what he
+would be worth to-day were there not men like myself, who are willing
+to risk everything and suffer everything for the Union. But I've no
+time to bandy words. Have you seen my wife lately?"
+
+"Yes," was the hesitating reply; "she was here to-day, and I--"
+
+"How is she? What did you say to her?"
+
+"Well, she doesn't look very strong. I felt sorry for her, and gave her
+more time, taking the responsibility myself--"
+
+"How much time?"
+
+"I said two weeks, but no doubt I could have had the time extended."
+
+"I have MY doubts. Will you and your employer please accept my humble
+gratitude that you had the grace not to turn her out-of-doors during
+the holiday season? It might have caused remark; but that consideration
+and some others that I might name are not to be weighed against a few
+dollars and cents. I shall now remove the strain upon your patriotism
+at once, and will not only pay arrears, but also for two months in
+advance."
+
+"Oh, there's no need of that to-day."
+
+"Yes, there is. My wife shall feel to-night that she has a home. She
+evidently has not received the letter I wrote as soon as I reached our
+lines, or you would not have been talking to her about two weeks more
+of shelter."
+
+The agent reopened his office and saw a roll of bills extracted from
+Marlow's pocket that left no doubt of the soldier's ability to provide
+for his family. He gave his receipt in silence, feeling that words
+would not mend matters, and then trudged off to his dinner with a
+nagging appetite.
+
+As Marlow strode away he came to a sudden resolution--he would look
+upon his wife and children before they saw him; he would feast his eyes
+while they were unconscious of the love that was beaming upon them. The
+darkness and storm favored his project, and in brief time he saw the
+light in his window. Unlatching the gate softly, and with his steps
+muffled by the snow that already carpeted the frozen ground, he reached
+the window, the blinds of which were but partially closed. His children
+frolicking about the room were the first objects that caught his eye,
+and he almost laughed aloud in his joy. Then, by turning another blind
+slightly, he saw his wife shivering over the fire.
+
+"Great God!" he muttered, "how she has suffered!" and he was about to
+rush in and take her into his arms. On the threshold he restrained
+himself, paused, and said, "No, not jet; I'll break the news of my
+return in my own way. The shock of my sudden appearance might be too
+great for her;" and he went back to the window. The wife's eyes were
+following her children with such a wistful tenderness that the boy,
+catching her gaze, stopped his sport, came to her side, and began to
+speak. They were but a few feet away, and Marlow caught every word.
+
+"Mamma," the child said, "you didn't eat any breakfast, and I don't
+believe you have eaten anything to-day. You are always giving
+everything to us. Now I declare I won't eat another bit unless you take
+half of my cake;" and he broke off a piece and laid it in her lap.
+
+"Oh, Jamie," cried the poor woman, "you looked so like your father when
+you spoke that I could almost see him;" and she caught him in her arms
+and covered him with kisses.
+
+"I'll soon be big enough to take care of you. I'm going to grow up just
+like papa and do everything for you," the boy said proudly as she
+released him.
+
+Little Susie also came and placed what was left of her cake in her
+mother's lap, saying:
+
+"I'll work for you, too, mamma; and to-morrow I'll sell the doll Santa
+Claus gave me last Christmas, and then we'll all have plenty to eat."
+
+Anson Marlow was sobbing outside the window as only a man weeps; and
+his tears in the bitter cold became drops of ice before they reached
+the ground.
+
+"My darlings!" the mother cried. "Oh, God spare me to you and provide
+some way for us! Your love should make me rich though I lack all else.
+There, I won't cry any more, and you shall have as happy a Christmas as
+I can give you. Perhaps He who knew what it was to be homeless and
+shelterless will provide for our need; so we'll try to trust Him and
+keep His birthday. And now, Jamie, go and bring the rest of the coal,
+and then we will make the dear home that papa gave us cheery and warm
+once more. If he were only with us we wouldn't mind hunger or cold,
+would we? Oh, my husband!" she broke out afresh, "if you could only
+come back, even though crippled and helpless, I feel that I could live
+and grow strong from simple gladness."
+
+"Don't you think, mamma," Jamie asked, "that God will let papa come
+down from heaven and spend Christmas with us? He might be here like the
+angels, and we not see him."
+
+"I'm afraid not," the sad woman replied, shaking her head and speaking
+more to herself than to the child. "I don't see how he could go back to
+heaven and be happy if he knew all. No, we must be patient and try to
+do our best, so that we can go to him. Go now, Jamie, before it gets
+too late. I'll get supper, and then we'll sing a Christmas hymn; and
+you and Susie shall hang up your stockings, just as you did last
+Christmas, when dear papa was with us. We'll try to do everything he
+would wish, and then by and by we shall see him again."
+
+As the boy started on his errand his father stepped back out of the
+light of the window, then followed the child with a great yearning in
+his heart. He would make sure the boy was safe at home again before he
+carried out his plan. From a distance he saw the little fellow receive
+the coal and start slowly homeward with the burden, and he followed to
+a point where the light of the street-lamps ceased, then joined the
+child, and said in a gruff voice, "Here, little man, I'm going your
+way. Let me carry your basket;" and he took it and strode on so fast
+that the boy had to run to keep pace with him. Jamie shuffled along
+through the snow as well as he could, but his little legs were so short
+in comparison with those of the kindly stranger that he found himself
+gradually falling behind. So he put on an extra burst of speed and
+managed to lay hold of the long blue skirt of the army overcoat.
+
+"Please, sir, don't go quite so fast," he panted.
+
+The stranger slackened his pace, and in a constrained tone of voice,
+asked:
+
+"How far are you going, little man?"
+
+"Only to our house--mamma's. She's Mrs. Marlow, you know."
+
+"Yes, I know--that is, I reckon I do. How much further is it?"
+
+"Oh, not much; we're most half-way now. I say, you're a soldier, aren't
+you?"
+
+"Yes, my boy," said Marlow, with a lump in his throat. "Why?"
+
+"Well, you see, my papa is a soldier, too, and I thought you might know
+him. We haven't heard from him for a good while, and--" choking a
+bit--"mamma's afraid he is hurt, or taken prisoner or something." He
+could not bring himself to say "killed."
+
+Jamie let go the overcoat to draw his sleeve across his eyes, and the
+big man once more strode on faster than ever, and Jamie began to fear
+lest the dusky form might disappear in the snow and darkness with both
+basket and coal; but the apparent stranger so far forgot his part that
+he put down the basket at Mrs. Marlow's gate, and then passed on so
+quickly that the panting boy had not time to thank him. Indeed, Anson
+Marlow knew that if he lingered but a moment he would have the child in
+his arms.
+
+"Why, Jamie," exclaimed his mother, "how could you get back so soon
+with that heavy basket? It was too heavy for you, but you will have to
+be mamma's little man mow."
+
+"A big man caught up with me and carried it. I don't care if he did
+have a gruff voice, I'm sure he was a good kind man. He knew where we
+lived too, for he put the basket down at our gate before I could say a
+word, I was so out of breath, and then he was out of sight in a
+minute." Some instinct kept him from saying anything about the army
+overcoat.
+
+"It's some neighbor that lives further up the street, I suppose, and
+saw you getting the coal at the store," Mrs. Marlow said, "Yes, Jamie,
+it was a good, kind act to help a little boy, and I think he'll have a
+happier Christmas for doing it."
+
+"Do you really think he'll have a happier Christmas, mamma?"
+
+"Yes, I truly think so. We are so made that we cannot do a kind act
+without feeling the better for it."
+
+"Well, I think he was a queer sort of a man if he was kind. I never
+knew any one to walk so fast. I spoke to him once, but he did not
+answer. Perhaps the wind roared so he couldn't hear me."
+
+"No doubt he was hurrying home to his wife and children," she said with
+a deep sigh.
+
+When his boy disappeared within the door of the cottage, Marlow turned
+and walked rapidly toward the city, first going to the grocery at which
+he had been in the habit of purchasing his supplies. The merchant
+stared for a moment, then stepped forward and greeted his customer
+warmly.
+
+"Well," he said, after his first exclamations of surprise were over,
+"the snow has made you almost as white as a ghost; but I'm glad you're
+not one. We scarce ever thought to see you again."
+
+"Has my wife an open account here now?" was the brief response.
+
+"Yes, and it might have been much larger. I've told her so too. She
+stopped taking credit some time ago, and when she's had a dollar or two
+to spare she's paid it on the old score. She bought so little that I
+said to her once that she need not go elsewhere to buy; that I' d sell
+to her as cheap as any one: that I believed you'd come back all right,
+and if you didn't she could pay me when she could. What do you think
+she did? Why, she burst out crying, and said, 'God bless you, sir, for
+saying my husband will come back! So many have discouraged me.' I
+declare to you her feeling was so right down genuine that I had to mop
+my own eyes. But she wouldn't take any more credit, and she bought so
+little that I've been troubled. I'd have sent her something, but your
+wife somehow ain't one of them kind that you can give things to, and--"
+
+Marlow interrupted the good-hearted, garrulous shopman by saying
+significantly, "Come with me to your back-office"; for the soldier
+feared that some one might enter who would recognize him and carry the
+tidings to his home prematurely.
+
+"Mr. Wilkins," he said rapidly, "I wanted to find out if you too had
+thriftily shut down on a soldier's wife. You shall not regret your
+kindness."
+
+"Hang it all!" broke in Wilkins, with compunction, "I haven't been very
+kind. I ought to have gone and seen your wife and found out how things
+were; and I meant to, but I've been so confoundedly busy--"
+
+"No matter now; I've not a moment to spare. You must help me to break
+the news of my return in my own way. I mean they shall have such a
+Christmas in the little cottage as was never known in this town. You
+could send a load right over there, couldn't you?"
+
+"Certainly, certainly," said Wilkins, under the impulse of both
+business thrift and goodwill; and a list of tea, coffee, sugar, flour,
+bread, cakes, apples, etc., was dashed off rapidly; and Marlow had the
+satisfaction of seeing the errand-boy, the two clerks, and the
+proprietor himself busily working to fill the order in the shortest
+possible space of time.
+
+He next went to a restaurant, a little further down the street, where
+he had taken his meals for a short time before he brought his family to
+town, and was greeted with almost equal surprise and warmth. Marlow cut
+short all words by his almost feverish haste. A huge turkey had just
+been roasted for the needs of the coming holiday, and this with a cold
+ham and a pot of coffee was ordered to be sent in a covered tray within
+a quarter of an hour. Then a toy-shop was visited, and such a doll
+purchased! for tears came into Marlow's eyes whenever he thought of his
+child's offer to sell her dolly for her mother's sake.
+
+After selecting a sled for Jamie, and directing that they should be
+sent at once, he could restrain his impatience no longer, and almost
+tore back to his station at the cottage window. His wife was placing
+the meagre little supper on the table, and how poor and scanty it was!
+
+"Is that the best the dear soul can do on Christmas Eve?" he groaned.
+"Why, there's scarcely enough for little Sue. Thank God, my darling, I
+will sit down with you to a rather different supper before long!"
+
+He bowed his head reverently with his wife as she asked God's blessing,
+and wondered at her faith. Then he looked and listened again with a
+heart-hunger which had been growing for months.
+
+"Do you really think Santa Claus will fill our stockings to-night?" Sue
+asked.
+
+"I think he'll have something for you," she replied. "There are so many
+poor little boys and girls in the city that he may not be able to bring
+very much to you."
+
+"Who is Santa Claus, anyway?" questioned Jamie.
+
+Tears came into the wife's eyes as she thought of the one who had
+always remembered them so kindly as far as his modest means permitted.
+
+She hesitated in her reply; and before she could decide upon an answer
+there was a knock at the door. Jamie ran to open it, and started back
+as a man entered with cap, eyebrows, beard, and shaggy coat all white
+with the falling snow. He placed two great baskets of provisions on the
+floor, and said they were for Mrs. Anson Marlow.
+
+"There is some mistake," Mrs. Marlow began; but the children, after
+staring a moment, shouted, "Santa Claus! Santa Claus!"
+
+The grocer's man took the unexpected cue instantly, and said, "No
+mistake, ma'am. They are from Santa Claus;" and before another word
+could be spoken he was gone. The face of the grocer's man was not very
+familiar to Mrs. Marlow, and the snow had disguised him completely. The
+children had no misgivings and pounced upon the baskets and with,
+exclamations of delight drew out such articles as they could lift.
+
+"I can't understand it," said the mother, bewildered and almost
+frightened.
+
+"Why, mamma, it's as plain as day," cried Jamie. "Didn't he look just
+like the pictures of Santa Claus--white beard and white eyebrows? Oh,
+mamma, mamma, here is a great paper of red-cheeked apples!" and he and
+Susie tugged at it until they dragged it over the side of the basket,
+when the bottom of the bag came out, and the fruit flecked the floor
+with red and gold. Oh, the bliss of picking up those apples; of
+comparing one with another; of running to the mother and asking which
+was the biggest and which the reddest and most beautifully streaked!
+
+"There must have been some mistake," the poor woman kept murmuring as
+she examined the baskets and found how liberal and varied was the
+supply, "for who could or would have been so kind?"
+
+"Why, mommie," said little Sue, reproachfully, "Santa Claus brought
+'em. Haven't you always told us that Santa Claus liked to make us
+happy?"
+
+The long-exiled father felt that he could restrain himself but a few
+moments longer, and he was glad to see that the rest of his purchases
+were at the door. With a look so intent, and yearning concentration of
+thought so intense that it was strange that they could not feel his
+presence, he bent his eyes once more upon a scene that would imprint
+itself upon his memory forever.
+
+But while he stood there, another scene came before his mental vision.
+Oddly enough his thought went back to that far-off Southern brookside,
+where he had lain with his hands in the cool water. He leaned against
+the window-casing, with the Northern snow whirling about his head; but
+he breathed the balmy breath of a Southern forest, the wood-thrush sang
+in the trees overhead, and he could--so it seemed to him--actually feel
+the water-worn pebbles under his palms as he watched the life-blood
+ebbing from his side. Then there was a dim consciousness of rough but
+kindly arms bearing him through the underbrush, and more distinctly the
+memory of weary weeks of convalescence in a mountaineer's cabin. All
+these scenes of peril, before he finally reached the Union lines,
+passed before him as he stood in a species of trance beside the window
+of his home.
+
+The half-grown boys sent from the restaurant and toy-shop could not be
+mistaken for Santa Claus even by the credulous fancy of the children,
+and Mrs. Marlow stepped forward eagerly and said:
+
+"I am sure there is some mistake. You are certainly leaving these
+articles at the wrong house." The faces of the children began to grow
+anxious and troubled also, for even their faith could not accept such
+marvellous good-fortune. Jamie looked at the sled with a kind of awe,
+and saw at a glance that it was handsomer than any in the street "Mr.
+Lansing, a wealthy man, lives a little further on," Mrs. Marlow began
+to urge; "and these things must be meant--"
+
+"Isn't your name Mrs. Anson Marlow?" asked the boy from the restaurant.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then I must do as I've been told;" and he opened his tray and placed
+the turkey, the ham, and the coffee on the table.
+
+"If he's right, I'm right too," said he of the toy-shop. "Them was my
+directions;" and they were both about to depart when the woman sprang
+forward and gasped: "Stay!"
+
+She clasped her hands and trembled violently.
+
+"Who sent these things?" she faltered.
+
+"Our bosses, mum," replied the boy from the restaurant, hesitatingly.
+
+She sprang toward him, seized his arm, and looked imploringly into his
+face. "Who ordered them sent?" she asked in a low, passionate voice.
+
+The young fellow began to smile, and stammered awkwardly, "I don't
+think I'm to tell."
+
+She released his arm and glanced around with a look of intense
+expectation.
+
+"Oh, oh!" she gasped with quick short sobs, "can it be--" Then she
+sprang to the door, opened it, and looked out into the black, stormy
+night. What seemed a shadow rushed toward her; she felt herself
+falling, but strong arms caught and bore her, half fainting, to a
+lounge within the room.
+
+Many have died from sorrow, but few from joy. With her husband's arms
+around her Mrs. Marlow's weakness soon passed. In response to his deep,
+earnest tones of soothing and entreaty, she speedily opened her eyes
+and gave him a smile so full of content and unutterable joy that all
+anxiety in her behalf began to pass from his mind.
+
+"Yes," she said softly, "I can live now. It seems as if a new and
+stronger life were coming back with every breath."
+
+The young fellows who had been the bearers of the gifts were so touched
+that they drew their rough sleeves across their eyes as they hastened
+away, closing the door on the happiest family in the city.
+
+
+
+
+A BRAVE LITTLE QUAKERESS
+
+A TRADITION OF THE REVOLUTION
+
+
+Not very far from the Highlands of the Hudson, but at a considerable
+distance from the river, there stood, one hundred years ago, a
+farmhouse that evidently had been built as much for strength and
+defence as for comfort. The dwelling was one story and a half in
+height, and was constructed of hewn logs, fitted closely together, and
+made impervious to the weather by old-fashioned mortar, which seems to
+defy the action of time. Two entrances facing each other led to the
+main or living room, and they were so large that a horse could pass
+through them, dragging in immense back-logs. These, having been
+detached from a chain when in the proper position, were rolled into the
+huge fireplace that yawned like a sooty cavern at the farther end of
+the apartment. A modern housekeeper, who finds wood too dear an article
+for even the air-tight stove, would be appalled by this fireplace.
+Stalwart Mr. Reynolds, the master of the house, could easily walk under
+its stony arch without removing his broad-brimmed Quaker hat. From the
+left side, and at a convenient height from the hearth, a massive crane
+swung in and out; while high above the centre of the fire was an iron
+hook, or trammel, from which by chains were suspended the capacious
+iron pots used in those days for culinary or for stock-feeding
+purposes. This trammel, which hitherto had suggested only good cheer,
+was destined to have in coming years a terrible significance to the
+household.
+
+When the blaze was moderate, or the bed of live coals not too ample,
+the children could sit on either side of the fireplace and watch the
+stars through its wide flue; and this was a favorite amusement of Phebe
+Reynolds, the eldest daughter of the house.
+
+A door opened from the living-room into the other apartments, furnished
+in the old massive style that outlasts many generations. All the
+windows were protected by stout oaken shutters which, when closed,
+almost transformed the dwelling into a fortress, giving security
+against any ordinary attack. There were no loopholes in the walls
+through which the muzzle of the deadly rifle could be thrust and fired
+from within. This feature, so common in the primitive abodes of the
+country, was not in accordance with John Reynolds's Quaker principles.
+While indisposed to fight, it was evident that the good man intended to
+interpose between himself and his enemies all the passive resistance
+that his stout little domicile could offer.
+
+And he knew that he had enemies of the bitterest and most unscrupulous
+character. He was a stanch Whig, loyal to the American cause, and,
+above all, resolute and active in the maintenance of law and order in
+those lawless times. He thus had made himself obnoxious to his Tory
+neighbors, and an object of hate and fear to a gang of marauders, who,
+under the pretence of acting with the British forces, plundered the
+country far and near. Claudius Smith, the Robin Hood of the Highlands
+and the terror of the pastoral low country, had formerly been their
+leader; and the sympathy shown by Mr. Reynolds with all the efforts to
+bring him to justice which finally resulted in his capture and
+execution, and awakened among his former associates an intense desire
+for revenge. This fact, well known to the farmer, kept him constantly
+on his guard, and filled his wife and daughter Phebe with deep
+apprehension.
+
+At the time of our story, Phebe was only twelve years of age, but was
+mature beyond her years. There were several younger children, and she
+had become almost womanly in aiding her mother in their care. Her
+stout, plump little body had been developed rather than enfeebled by
+early toil, and a pair of resolute and often mirthful blue eyes bespoke
+a spirit not easily daunted. She was a native growth of the period,
+vitalized by pure air and out-of-door pursuits, and she abounded in the
+shrewd intelligence and demure refinement of her sect to a degree that
+led some of their neighbors to speak of her as "a little old woman."
+When alone with the children, however, or in the woods and fields, she
+would doff her Quaker primness, and romp, climb trees, and frolic with
+the wildest.
+
+But of late, the troublous times and her father's peril had brought
+unwonted thoughtfulness into her blue eyes, and more than Quaker
+gravity to the fresh young face, which, in spite of exposure to sun and
+wind, maintained much of its inherited fairness of complexion. Of her
+own accord she was becoming a vigilant sentinel, for a rumor had
+reached Mr. Reynolds that sooner or later he would have a visit from
+the dreaded mountain gang of hard riders. Two roads leading to the
+hills converged on the main highway not far from his dwelling; and from
+an adjacent knoll Phebe often watched this place, while her father,
+with a lad in his employ, completed their work about the barn. When the
+shadows deepened, all was made as secure as possible without and
+within, and the sturdy farmer, after committing himself and his
+household to the Divine protection, slept as only brave men sleep who
+are clear in conscience and accustomed to danger.
+
+His faith was undoubtedly rewarded; but Providence in the execution of
+its will loves to use vigilant human eyes and ready, loving hands. The
+guardian angel destined to protect the good man was his blooming
+daughter Phebe, who had never thought of herself as an angel, and
+indeed rarely thought of herself at all, as is usually the case with
+those who do most to sweeten and brighten the world. She was a natural,
+wholesome, human child, with all a child's unconsciousness of self. She
+knew she could not protect her father like a great stalwart son, but
+she could watch and warn him of danger, and as the sequel proved, she
+could do far more.
+
+The farmer's habits were well known, and the ruffians of the mountains
+were aware that after he had shut himself in he was much like Noah in
+his ark. If they attempted to burn him out, the flames would bring down
+upon them a score of neighbors not hampered by Quaker principles.
+Therefore they resolved upon a sudden onslaught before he had finished
+the evening labors of the farm. This was what the farmer feared; and
+Phebe, like a vigilant outpost, was now never absent from her place of
+observation until called in.
+
+One spring evening she saw two mounted men descending one of the roads
+which led from the mountains. Instead of jogging quietly out on the
+highway, as ordinary travellers would have done, they disappeared among
+the trees. Soon afterward she caught a glimpse of two other horsemen on
+the second mountain road. One of these soon came into full view, and
+looked up and down as if to see that all was clear. Apparently
+satisfied, he gave a low whistle, when three men joined him. Phebe
+waited to see no more, but sped toward the house, her flaxen curls
+flying from her flushed and excited face.
+
+"They are coming, father! Thee must be quick!" she cried.
+
+But a moment or two elapsed before all were within the dwelling, the
+doors banged and barred, the heavy shutters closed, and the
+home-fortress made secure. Phebe's warning had come none too soon, for
+they had scarcely time to take breath before the tramp of galloping
+horses and the oaths of their baffled foes were heard without. The
+marauders did not dare make much noise, for fear that some passing
+neighbor might give the alarm. Tying their horses behind the house,
+where they would be hidden from the road, they tried various expedients
+to gain an entrance, but the logs and heavy planks baffled them. At
+last one of the number suggested that they should ascend the roof and
+climb down the wide flue of the chimney. This plan was easy of
+execution, and for a few moments the stout farmer thought that his hour
+had come. With a heroism far beyond that of the man who strikes down
+his assailant, he prepared to suffer all things rather than take life
+with his own hands.
+
+But his wife proved equal to this emergency. She had been making over a
+bed, and a large basket of feathers was within reach. There were live
+coals on the hearth, but they did not give out enough heat to prevent
+the ruffians from descending. Two of them were already in the chimney,
+and were threatening horrible vengeance if the least resistance was
+offered. Upon the coals on the hearth the housewife instantly emptied
+her basket of feathers; and a great volume of pungent, stifling smoke
+poured up the chimney. The threats of the men, who by means of ropes
+were cautiously descending, were transformed into choking,
+half-suffocated sounds, and it was soon evident that the intruders were
+scrambling out as fast as possible. A hurried consultation on the roof
+ensued, and then, as if something had alarmed them, they galloped off.
+With the exception of the cries of the peepers, or hylas, in an
+adjacent swamp, the night soon grew quiet around the closed and
+darkened dwelling. Farmer Reynolds bowed in thanksgiving over their
+escape, and then after watching a few hours, slept as did thousands of
+others in those times of anxiety.
+
+But Phebe did not sleep. She grew old by moments that night as do other
+girls by months and years; as never before she understood that her
+father's life was in peril. How much that life meant to her and the
+little brood of which she was the eldest! How much it meant to her dear
+mother, who was soon again to give birth to a little one that would
+need a father's protection and support! As the young girl lay in her
+little attic room, with dilated eyes and ears intent on the slightest
+sound, she was ready for any heroic self-sacrifice, without once
+dreaming that she was heroic.
+
+The news of the night-attack spread fast, and there was a period of
+increased vigilance which compelled the outlaws to lie close in their
+mountain fastnesses. But Phebe knew that her father's enemies were
+still at large with their hate only stimulated because baffled for a
+time. Therefore she did not in the least relax her watchfulness; and
+she besought their nearest neighbors to come to their assistance should
+any alarm be given.
+
+When the spring and early summer passed without further trouble, they
+all began to breathe more freely, but one July night John Reynolds was
+betrayed by his patriotic impulses. He was awakened by a loud knocking
+at his door. Full of misgiving, he rose and hastily dressed himself:
+Phebe, who had slipped on her clothes at the first alarm, joined him
+and said earnestly:
+
+"Don't thee open the door, father, to anybody, at this time of night;"
+and his wife, now lying ill and helpless on a bed in the adjoining
+room, added her entreaty to that of her daughter. In answer, however,
+to Mr. Reynolds's inquiries a voice from without, speaking quietly and
+seemingly with authority, asserted that they were a squad from
+Washington's forces in search of deserters, and that no harm would
+ensue unless he denied their lawful request. Conscious of innocence,
+and aware that detachments were often abroad on such authorized quests,
+Mr. Reynolds unbarred his door. The moment he opened it he saw his
+terrible error; not soldiers, but the members of the mountain gang,
+were crouched like wild beasts ready to spring upon him.
+
+"Fly, father!" cried Phebe. "They won't hurt us;" but before the
+bewildered man could think what to do, the door flew open from the
+pressure of half a dozen wild-looking desperadoes, and he was powerless
+in their grasp. They evidently designed murder, but not a quick and
+merciful "taking off"; they first heaped upon their victim the vilest
+epithets, seeking in their thirst for revenge to inflict all the
+terrors of death in anticipation. The good man, however, now face to
+face with his fate, grew calm and resigned. Exasperated by his courage,
+they began to cut and torture him with their swords and knives. Phebe
+rushed forward to interpose her little form between her father and the
+ruffians, and was dashed, half stunned, into a corner of the room. Even
+for the sake of his sick wife, the brave farmer could not refrain from
+uttering groans of anguish which brought the poor woman with faltering
+steps into his presence. After one glance at the awful scene she sank,
+half fainting, on a settee near the door.
+
+When the desire for plunder got the better of their fiendish cruelty,
+one of the gang threw a noosed rope over Mr. Reynolds's head, and then
+they hanged him to the trammel or iron hook in the great chimney.
+
+"You can't smoke us out this time," they shouted. "You've now got to
+settle with the avengers of Claudius Smith; and you and some others
+will find us ugly customers to settle with."
+
+They then rushed off to rob the house, for the farmer was reputed to
+have not a little money in his strong box. The moment they were gone
+Phebe seized a knife and cut her father down. Terror and excitement
+gave her almost supernatural strength, and with the aid of the boy in
+her father's service she got the poor man on a bed which he had
+occupied during his wife's illness. Her reviving mother was beginning
+to direct her movements when the ruffians again entered; and furious
+with rage, they again seized and hanged her father, while one, more
+brutal than the others, whipped the poor child with a heavy rope until
+he thought she was disabled. The girl at first cowered and shivered
+under the blows, and then sank as if lifeless on the floor. But the
+moment she was left to herself she darted forward and once more cut her
+father down. The robbers then flew upon the prostrate man and cut and
+stabbed him until they supposed he was dead. Toward his family they
+meditated a more terrible and devilish cruelty. After sacking the house
+and taking all the plunder they could carry, they relieved the
+horror-stricken wife and crying, shrieking children of their presence.
+Their further action, however, soon inspired Phebe with a new and more
+awful fear, for she found that they had fastened the doors on the
+outside and were building a fire against one of them.
+
+For a moment an overpowering despair at the prospect of their fate
+almost paralyzed her. She believed her father was dead. The boy who had
+aided her at first was now dazed and helpless from terror. If aught
+could be done in this supreme moment of peril she saw that it must be
+done by her hands. The smoke from the kindling fire without was already
+curling in through the crevices around the door. There was not a
+moment, not a second to be lost. The ruffians' voices were growing
+fainter and she heard the sounds of their horses' feet. Would they go
+away in time for her to extinguish the fire? She ran to her attic room
+and cautiously opened the shutter. Yes, they were mounting; and in the
+faint light of the late-rising moon she saw that they were taking her
+father's horses. A moment later, as if fearing that the blaze might
+cause immediate pursuit, they dashed off toward the mountains.
+
+The clatter of their horses' hoofs had not died away before the
+intrepid girl had opened the shutter of a window nearest the ground,
+and springing lightly out with a pail in her hand she rushed to the
+trough near the barn, which she knew was full of water. Back and forth
+she flew between the fire and the convenient reservoir with all the
+water that her bruised arms and back permitted her to carry.
+Fortunately the night was a little damp, and the stout thick door had
+kindled slowly. To her intense joy she soon gained the mastery of the
+flames, and at last extinguished them.
+
+She did not dare to open the door for fear that the robbers might
+return, but clambering in at the window, made all secure as had been
+customary, for now it was her impulse to do just as her father would
+have done.
+
+She found her mother on her knees beside her father, who would indeed
+have been a ghastly and awful object to all but the eyes of love.
+
+"Oh, Phebe, I hope--I almost believe thy father lives!" cried the
+woman. "Is it my throbbing palm, or does his heart still beat?"
+
+"I'm sure it beats, mother!" cried the girl, putting her little hand on
+the gashed and mangled body.
+
+"Oh, then there's hope! Here, Abner," to the boy, "isn't there any man
+in thee? Help Phebe get him on the bed, and then we must stop this
+awful bleeding. Oh, that I were well and strong! Phebe, thee must now
+take my place. Thee may save thy father's life. I can tell thee what to
+do if thee has the courage."
+
+Phebe had the courage and with deft hands did her mother's bidding. She
+stanched the many gaping wounds; she gave spirits at first drop by
+drop, until at last the man breathed and was conscious. Even before the
+dawn began to brighten over the dreaded Highlands which their ruthless
+enemies were already climbing, Phebe was flying, bare-headed, across
+the fields to their nearest neighbor. The good people heard of the
+outrage with horror and indignation. A half-grown lad sprang on the
+bare back of a young horse and galloped across the country for a
+surgeon. A few moments later the farmer, equipped for chase and battle,
+dashed away at headlong pace to alarm the neighborhood. The news sped
+from house to house and hamlet to hamlet like fire in prairie grass.
+The sun had scarcely risen before a dozen bronzed and stern-browed men
+were riding into John Reynolds's farm-yard under the lead of young Hal
+June--the best shot that the wars had left in the region. The surgeon
+had already arrived, and before he ceased from his labors he had
+dressed thirty wounds.
+
+The story told by Phebe had been as brief as it was terrible--for she
+was eager to return to her father and sick mother. She had not dreamed
+of herself as the heroine of the affair, and had not given any such
+impression, although more than one had remarked that she was "a plucky
+little chick to give the alarm before it was light." But when the proud
+mother faintly and tearfully related the particulars of the tragedy,
+and told how Phebe had saved her father's life and probably her
+mother's--for, "I was too sick to climb out of a window," she said;
+when she told how the child after a merciless whipping had again cut
+her father down from the trammel-hook, had extinguished the fire, and
+had been nursing her father back to life, while all the time in almost
+agony herself from the cruel blows that had been rained upon her--Phebe
+was dazed and bewildered at the storm of applause that greeted her. And
+when the surgeon, in order to intensify the general desire for
+vengeance, showed the great welts and scars on her arms and neck,
+gray-bearded fathers who had known her from infancy took her into their
+arms and blessed and kissed her. For once in his life young Hal June
+wished he was a gray-beard, but his course was much more to the mind of
+Phebe than any number of caresses would have been. Springing on his
+great black horse, and with his dark eyes burning with a fire that only
+blood could quench, he shouted:
+
+"Come, neighbors, it's time for deeds. That brave little woman ought to
+make a man of every mother's son of us;" and he dashed away so
+furiously that Phebe thought with a strange little tremor at her heart
+that he might in his speed face the robbers all alone. The stout yeomen
+clattered after him; the sound of their pursuit soon died away; and
+Phebe returned to woman's work of nursing, watching, and praying.
+
+The bandits of the hills, not expecting such prompt retaliation, were
+overtaken, and then followed a headlong race over the rough mountain
+roads--guilty wretches flying for life, and stern men almost reckless
+in the burning desire to avenge a terrible wrong. Although the horses
+of the marauders were tired, their riders were so well acquainted with
+the fastnesses of the wilderness that they led the pursuers through
+exceedingly difficult and dangerous paths. At last, June ever in the
+van, caught sight of a man's form, and almost instantly his rifle awoke
+a hundred echoes among the hills. When they reached the place, stains
+of blood marked the ground, proving that at least a wound had been
+given. Just beyond, the gang evidently had dispersed, each one for
+himself, leaving behind everything that impeded their progress. The
+region was almost impenetrable in its wildness except by those who knew
+all its rugged paths. The body of the man whom June had wounded,
+however, was found, clothed in a suit of Quaker drab stolen from Mr.
+Reynolds. The rest of the band with few exceptions met with fates that
+accorded with their deeds.
+
+Phebe had the happiness of nursing her father back to health, and
+although maimed and disfigured, he lived to a ripe old age. If the bud
+is the promise of the flower, Phebe must have developed a womanhood
+that was regal in its worth; at the same time I believe that she always
+remained a modest, demure little Quakeress, and never thought of her
+virtues except when reminded of them in plain English.
+
+NOTE--In the preceding narrative I have followed almost literally a
+family tradition of events which actually occurred.
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Taken Alive, by E. P. Roe
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Taken Alive, by E. P. Roe
+#5 in our series by E. P. Roe
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+
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+Title: Taken Alive
+
+Author: E. P. Roe
+
+Release Date: March, 2004 [EBook #5320]
+[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
+[This file was first posted on June 30, 2002]
+[Date last updated: August 14, 2005]
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+Edition: 10
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+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TAKEN ALIVE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+
+
+
+
+The Works of E. P. Roe
+
+VOLUME ELEVEN
+
+TAKEN ALIVE
+AND OTHER STORIES
+WITH AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY
+
+
+ILLUSTRATED
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+"A NATIVE AUTHOR CALLED ROE"
+
+TAKEN ALIVE:
+     I. SOMETHING BEFORE UNKNOWN
+    II. A VISITOR AT THE MINE
+   III. THWARTED
+    IV. TAKEN ALIVE
+     V. WHAT BRANDT SAW CHRISTMAS EVE
+
+FOUND YET LOST:
+     I. LOVE IN THE WILDERNESS
+    II. LOVE AT HOME
+   III. "DISABLED"
+    IV. MARTINE SEEKS AN ANTIDOTE
+     V. SECOND BLOOM
+    VI. MORE THAN REWARD
+   VII. YANKEE BLANK
+  VIII. "HOW CAN I?"
+    IX. SHADOWS OF COMING EVENTS
+     X. "YOU CANNOT UNDERSTAND"
+    XI. MR. KEMBLE'S APPEAL
+   XII. "YOU MUST REMEMBER"
+  XIII. "I'M HELEN"
+   XIV. "FORWARD! COMPANY A"
+
+QUEEN OF SPADES
+
+AN UNEXPECTED RESULT
+
+A CHRISTMAS-EVE SUIT
+
+THREE THANKSGIVING KISSES
+
+SUSIE ROLLIFFE'S CHRISTMAS
+
+JEFF'S TREASURE:
+     I. ITS DISCOVERY
+    II. ITS INFLUENCE
+
+CAUGHT ON THE EBB-TIDE
+
+CHRISTMAS EVE IN WAR TIMES
+
+A BRAVE LITTLE QUAKERESS
+
+
+
+
+
+
+"A NATIVE AUTHOR CALLED ROE"
+
+An Autobiography
+
+
+Two or three years ago the editor of "Lippincott's Magazine" asked
+me, with many others, to take part in the very interesting
+"experience meeting" begun in the pages of that enterprising
+periodical. I gave my consent without much thought of the effort
+involved, but as time passed, felt slight inclination to comply
+with the request. There seemed little to say of interest to the
+general public, and I was distinctly conscious of a certain sense
+of awkwardness in writing about myself at all. The question, Why
+should I? always confronted me.
+
+When this request was again repeated early in the current year, I
+resolved at least to keep my promise. This is done with less
+reluctance now, for the reason that floating through the press I
+meet with paragraphs concerning myself that are incorrect, and
+often absurdly untrue. These literary and personal notes, together
+with many questioning letters, indicate a certain amount of public
+interest, and I have concluded that it may be well to give the
+facts to those who care to know them.
+
+It has been made more clear to me that there are many who honestly
+do care. One of the most prized rewards of my literary work is the
+ever-present consciousness that my writings have drawn around me a
+circle of unknown yet stanch friends, who have stood by me
+unfalteringly for a number of years. I should indeed be lacking if
+my heart did not go out to them in responsive friendliness and
+goodwill. If I looked upon them merely as an aggregation of
+customers, they would find me out speedily. A popular mood is a
+very different thing from an abiding popular interest. If one
+could address this circle of friends only, the embarrassment
+attendant on a certain amount of egotism would be banished by the
+assurance of sympathetic regard. Since, from the nature of
+circumstances, this is impossible, it seems to me in better taste
+to consider the "author called Roe" in an objective, rather than
+in a friendly and subjective sense. In other words, I shall try to
+look at him from the public point of view, and free myself from
+some predisposition in his favor shared by his friends. I suppose
+I shall not succeed in giving a colorless statement of fact, but I
+may avoid much special pleading in his behalf.
+
+Like so many other people, I came from a very old family, one from
+which there is good proof of an unbroken line through the Dark
+Ages, and all ages, to the first man. I have never given any time
+to tracing ancestry, but have a sort of quiet satisfaction that
+mine is certainly American as far as it well can be. My
+forefathers (not "rude," to my knowledge) were among the first
+settlers on the Atlantic seaboard. My paternal and maternal
+grandfathers were stanch Whigs during the Revolution, and had the
+courage of their convictions. My grandmother escaped with her
+children from the village of Kingston almost as the British
+entered it, and her home was soon in ashes. Her husband, James
+Roe, was away in the army. My mother died some years before I
+attained my majority, and I cannot remember when she was not an
+invalid. Such literary tendencies as I have are derived from her,
+but I do not possess a tithe of her intellectual power. Her story-
+books in her youth were the classics; and when she was but twelve
+years of age she knew "Paradise Lost" by heart. In my
+recollections of her, the Bible and all works tending to elucidate
+its prophecies were her favorite themes of study. The
+retentiveness of her memory was very remarkable. If any one
+repeated a verse of the New Testament, she could go on and finish
+the chapter. Indeed, she could quote the greater part of the Bible
+with the ease and accuracy of one reading from the printed page.
+The works of Hugh Miller and the Arctic Explorations of Dr. Kane
+afforded her much pleasure. Confined usually to her room, she took
+unfailing delight in wandering about the world with the great
+travellers of that day, her strong fancy reproducing the scenes
+they described. A stirring bit of history moved her deeply. Well
+do I remember, when a boy, of reading to her a chapter from
+Motley's "Dutch Republic," and of witnessing in her flushed cheeks
+and sparkling black eyes proof of an excitement all too great for
+one in her frail health. She had the unusual gift of relating in
+an easy, simple way what she read; and many a book far too
+abstruse and dull for my boyish taste became an absorbing story
+from her lips. One of her chief characteristics was the love of
+flowers. I can scarcely recall her when a flower of some kind,
+usually a rose, was not within her reach; and only periods of
+great feebleness kept her from their daily care, winter and
+summer. Many descendants of her floral pets are now blooming in my
+garden.
+
+My father, on the other hand, was a sturdy man of action. His love
+for the country was so strong that he retired from business in New
+York as soon as he had won a modest competence. For forty-odd
+years he never wearied in the cultivation of his little valley
+farm, and the square, flower-bordered garden, at one side of which
+ran an unfailing brook. In this garden and under his tuition I
+acquired my love of horticulture--acquired it with many a
+backache--heartache too, on days good for fishing or hunting; but,
+taking the bitter with the sweet, the sweet predominated. I find
+now that I think only of the old-fashioned roses in the borders,
+and not of my hands bleeding from the thorns. If I groaned over
+the culture of many vegetables, it was much compensation to a boy
+that the dinner-table groaned also under the succulent dishes thus
+provided. I observed that my father's interest in his garden and
+farm never flagged, thus proving that in them is to be found a
+pleasure which does not pall with age. During the last summer of
+his life, when in his eighty-seventh year, he had the delight of a
+child in driving over to my home in the early morning, long before
+I was up, and in leaving a basket of sweet corn or some other
+vegetable which he knew would prove his garden to be ahead of
+mine.
+
+My father was very simple and positive in his beliefs, always
+openly foremost in the reform movements of his day and in his
+neighborhood, yet never, to my knowledge, seeking or taking any
+office. His house often became a station of the "underground
+railroad" in slavery times, and on one night in the depth of
+winter he took a hotly-pursued fugitive in his sleigh and drove
+him five miles on the ice, diagonally across the Hudson, to
+Fishkill, thence putting the brave aspirant for freedom on the way
+to other friends. He incurred several risks in this act. It is
+rarely safe to drive on the river off the beaten tracks at night,
+for there are usually air-holes, and the strong tides are
+continually making changes in the ice. When told that he might be
+sent to jail for his defiance of the Fugitive Slave Law, he
+quietly answered, "I can go to jail." The thing he could not do
+was to deny the man's appeal to him for help. Before the war he
+was known as an Abolitionist--after it, as a Conservative, his
+sympathy with and for the South being very strong. During the
+draft riots in 1863 the spirit of lawlessness was on the point of
+breaking out in the river towns. I happened to be home from
+Virginia, and learned that my father's house was among those
+marked for burning on a certain night. During this night the horde
+gathered; but one of their leaders had received such empathetic
+warning of what would happen the following day should outrages be
+perpetrated, that he persuaded his associates to desist. I sat up
+that night at my father's door with a double-barrelled gun, more
+impressed with a sense of danger than at any other time in my
+experience; he, on the contrary, slept as quietly as a child.
+
+He often practiced close economy in order to give his sons a good
+education. The one act of my life which I remember with unalloyed
+pride and pleasure occurred while I was at boarding-school in
+Vermont, preparing for college. I learned through my mother that
+my father had denied himself his daily newspaper; and I knew well
+how much he would miss it. We burned wood in the large stone
+seminary building. Every autumn great ranks of hard maple were
+piled up, and students who wished to earn a little money were paid
+a dollar a cord for sawing it into three lengths. I applied for
+nine cords, and went at the unaccustomed task after study hours.
+My back aches yet as I recall the experiences of subsequent weeks,
+for the wood was heavy, thick, and hard as bone. I eventually had
+the pleasure of sending to my father the subscription price of his
+paper for a year. If a boy reads these lines, let me assure him
+that he will never know a sweeter moment in his life than when he
+receives the thanks of his parents for some such effort in their
+behalf. No investment can ever pay him better.
+
+In one of my books, "Nature's Serial Story," my father and mother
+appear, slightly idealized.
+
+Toward the close of my first year in Williams College a misfortune
+occurred which threatened to be very serious. Studying by
+defective light injured my eyes. They quickly became so sensitive
+that I could scarcely endure lamplight or the heat of a stove,
+only the cold out-door air relieving the pain; so I spent much
+time in wandering about in the boisterous weather of early spring
+in Williamstown. At last I became so discouraged that I went to
+President Hopkins and told him that I feared I must give up the
+purpose of acquiring an education. Never can I forget how that
+grand old man met the disheartened boy. Speaking in the wise,
+friendly way which subdued the heart and strengthened the will, he
+made the half-hour spent with him the turning-point of my life. In
+conclusion, he advised me to enter the Senior class the following
+fall, thus taking a partial course of study. How many men are
+living to-day who owe much of the best in their lives to that
+divinely inspired guide and teacher of youth!
+
+I next went to another man great in his sphere of life--Dr. Agnew,
+the oculist. He gave my eyes a thorough examination, told me that
+he could do nothing for them; that rest and the vigor acquired
+from out-door life would restore them. He was as kind and
+sympathetic in his way as the college president, and charged but a
+trifle, to relieve me from the sense of taking charity. Dr.
+Agnew's words proved correct; and the following autumn I entered
+the class of '61, and spent a happy year. Some of my classmates
+were very kind in reading aloud to me, while Dr. Hopkins's
+instruction was invaluable. By the time I entered Auburn
+Theological Seminary, my eyes were quite restored, and I was able
+to go through the first year's course of study without difficulty.
+In the summer of 1862 I could no longer resist the call for men in
+the army. Learning that the Second New York (Harris's Light)
+Cavalry was without a chaplain, I obtained the appointment to that
+position. General Kilpatrick was then lieutenant-colonel, and in
+command of the regiment. In December, 1862, I witnessed the bloody
+and disastrous battle of Fredericksburg, and can never forget the
+experiences of that useless tragedy. I was conscious of a
+sensation which struck me as too profound to be merely awe. Early
+in the morning we crossed the Rappahannock on a pontoon bridge and
+marched up the hill to an open plain. The roar of the battle was
+simply terrific, shading off from the sharp continuous thunder
+immediately about us to dull, heavy mutterings far to the right
+and left. A few hundred yards before us, where the ground began to
+slope up to the fatal heights crowned with Confederate works and
+ordnance, were long lines of Union batteries. From their iron
+mouths puffs of smoke issued incessantly, followed by tremendous
+reverberations. Back of these batteries the ground was covered
+with men lying on their arms, that they might present a less
+obvious target. Then a little further to the rear, on the level
+ground above the bluff, stood our cavalry. Heavy guns on both
+sides of the river were sending their great shrieking shells back
+and forth over our heads, and we often "ducked" instinctively when
+the missile was at least forty feet above us. Even our horses
+shuddered at the sound.
+
+I resolved to learn if the men were sharing in my emotions--in
+brief, what effect the situation had upon them--and rode slowly
+down our regimental line. So vivid was the impression of that long
+array of awed, pallid faces that at this moment I can recall them
+distinctly. There were strange little touches of mingled pathos
+and humor. Meadow-larks were hemmed in on every side, too
+frightened to fly far beyond the rude alarms. They would flutter
+up into the sulphurous air with plaintive cries, then drop again
+into the open spaces between the troops. At one time, while we
+were standing at our horses' heads, a startled rabbit ran to us
+for cover. The poor little creature meant a dinner to the
+fortunate captor on a day when a dinner was extremely
+problematical. We engaged in a sharp scramble, the prize being won
+by the regimental surgeon, who kindly shared his game with me.
+
+General Bayard, commanding our brigade, was mortally wounded, and
+died like a hero. He was carried to a fine mansion near which he
+had received his injury. Many other desperately wounded men were
+brought to the spacious rooms of this abode of Southern luxury,
+and the surgeons were kept busy all through the day and night. It
+was here I gained my first experience in hospital work. This
+extemporized hospital on the field was so exposed as to be
+speedily abandoned. In the morning I recrossed the Rappahannock
+with my regiment, which had been ordered down the river on picket
+duty. Soon after we went into winter quarters in a muddy
+cornfield. In February I resigned, with the purpose of completing
+my studies, and spent the remainder of the term at the Union
+Theological Seminary of New York. My regiment would not get
+another chaplain, so I again returned to it. In November I
+received a month's leave of absence, and was married to Miss Anna
+P. Sands, of New York City. Our winter quarters in 1864 were at
+Stevensburg, between the town of Culpeper and the Rapidan River.
+During the pleasant days of late February several of the officers
+were enjoying the society of their wives. Mrs. Roe having
+expressed a willingness to rough it with me for a week, I sent for
+her, and one Saturday afternoon went to the nearest railroad
+station to meet her. The train came, but not my wife; and, much
+disappointed, I found the return ride of five miles a dreary one
+in the winter twilight. I stopped at our colonel's tent to say to
+him and his wife that Mrs. Roe had not come, then learned for the
+first time very startling tidings.
+
+"Chaplain," said the colonel, "we are going to Richmond to-morrow.
+We are going to wade right through and past everything in a neck-
+or-nothing ride, and who will come out is a question."
+
+His wife was weeping in her private tent, and I saw that for the
+first time in my acquaintance with him he was downcast. He was one
+of the bravest of men, yet now a foreboding of evil oppressed him.
+The result justified it, for he was captured during the raid, and
+never fully rallied after the war from the physical depression
+caused by his captivity. He told me that on the morrow General
+Kilpatrick would lead four thousand picked cavalry men in a raid
+on Richmond, having as its special object the release of our
+prisoners. I rode to the headquarters of the general, who
+confirmed the tidings, adding, "You need not go. Non-combatants
+are not expected to go."
+
+It was most fortunate that my wife had not come. I had recently
+been appointed chaplain of Hampton Hospital, Virginia, by
+President Lincoln, and was daily expecting my confirmation by the
+Senate. I had fully expected to give my wife a glimpse of army
+life in the field, and then to enter on my new duties. To go or
+not to go was a question with me that night. The raid certainly
+offered a sharp contrast with the anticipated week's outing with
+my bride. I did not possess by nature that kind of courage which
+is indifferent to danger; and life had never offered more
+attractions than at that time. I have since enjoyed Southern
+hospitality abundantly, and hope to again, but then its prospect
+was not alluring. Before morning, however, I reached the decision
+that I would go, and during the Sunday forenoon held my last
+service in the regiment. I had disposed of my horse, and so had to
+take a sorry beast at the last moment, the only one I could
+obtain.
+
+In the dusk of Sunday evening four thousand men were masked in the
+woods on the banks of the Rapidan. Our scouts opened the way by
+wading the stream and pouncing upon the unsuspecting picket of
+twenty Confederates opposite. Then away we went across a cold,
+rapid river, marching all that night through the dim woods and
+openings in a country that was emphatically the enemy's. Lee's
+entire army was on our right, the main Confederate cavalry force
+on our left. The strength of our column and its objective point
+could not remain long unknown.
+
+In some unimportant ways I acted as aid for Kilpatrick. A few
+hundred yards in advance of the main body rode a vanguard of two
+hundred men, thrown forward to warn us should we strike any
+considerable number of the enemy's cavalry. As is ever the case,
+the horses of a small force will walk away from a much larger
+body, and it was necessary from time to time to send word to the
+vanguard, ordering it to "slow up." This order was occasionally
+intrusted to me. I was to gallop over the interval between the two
+columns, then draw up by the roadside and sit motionless on my
+horse till the general with his staff came up. The slightest
+irregularity of action would bring a shot from our own men, while
+the prospect of an interview with the Johnnies while thus isolated
+was always good. I saw one of our officers shot that night. He had
+ridden carelessly into the woods, and rode out again just before
+the head of the column, without instantly accounting for himself.
+As it was of vital importance to keep the movement secret as long
+as possible, the poor fellow was silenced in sad error as to his
+identity.
+
+On we rode, night and day, with the briefest possible halts. At
+one point we nearly captured a railroad train, and might easily
+have succeeded had not the station and warehouses been in flames.
+As it was, the train approached us closely, then backed, the
+shrieking engine itself giving the impression of being startled to
+the last degree.
+
+On a dreary, drizzling, foggy day we passed a milestone on which
+was lettered, "Four miles to Richmond." It was still "on to
+Richmond" with us what seemed a long way further, and then came a
+considerable period of hesitancy, in which the command was drawn
+up for the final dash. The enemy shelled a field near us
+vigorously, but fortunately, or unfortunately, the fog was so
+dense that neither party could make accurate observations or do
+much execution.
+
+For reasons that have passed into history, the attack was not
+made. We withdrew six miles from the city and went into camp.
+
+I had scarcely begun to enjoy much-needed rest before the
+Confederates came up in the darkness and shelled us out of such
+quarters as we had found. We had to leave our boiling coffee
+behind us--one of the greatest hardships I have ever known. Then
+followed a long night-ride down the Peninsula, in driving sleet
+and rain.
+
+The next morning the sun broke out gloriously, warming and drying
+our chilled, wet forms. Nearly all that day we maintained a line
+of battle confronting the pursuing enemy. One brigade would take a
+defensive position, while the other would march about five miles
+to a commanding point, where it in turn would form a line. The
+first brigade would then give way, pass through the second, and
+take position well to the rear. Thus, although retreating, we were
+always ready to fight. At one point the enemy pressed us closely,
+and I saw a magnificent cavalry charge down a gentle descent in
+the road. Every sabre seemed tipped with fire in the brilliant
+sunshine.
+
+In the afternoon it became evident that there was a body of troops
+before us. Who or what they were was at first unknown, and for a
+time the impression prevailed that we should have to cut our way
+through by a headlong charge. We soon learned, however, that the
+force was a brigade of colored infantry, sent up to cover our
+retreat. It was the first time we had seen negro troops, but as
+the long line of glistening bayonets and light-blue uniforms came
+into view, prejudices, if any there were, vanished at once, and a
+cheer from the begrimed troopers rang down our line, waking the
+echoes. It was a pleasant thing to march past that array of faces,
+friendly though black, and know we were safe. They represented the
+F.F.V.'s of Old Virginia, we then wished to see. On the last day
+of the march my horse gave out, compelling me to walk and lead
+him.
+
+On the day after our arrival at Yorktown, Kilpatrick gave me
+despatches for the authorities at Washington. President Lincoln,
+learning that I had just returned from the raid, sent for me, and
+I had a memorable interview with him alone in his private room. He
+expressed profound solicitude for Colonel Dahlgren and his party.
+They had been detached from the main force, and I could give no
+information concerning them. We eventually learned of the death of
+that heroic young officer, Colonel Dahlgren. Although partially
+helpless from the loss of a leg, he led a daring expedition at the
+cost of his life.
+
+I expressed regret to the President that the object of the raid
+had not been accomplished. "Pick the flint, and try it again,"
+said Mr. Lincoln, heartily. I went out from his presence awed by
+the courage and sublime simplicity of the man. While he gave the
+impression that he was bearing the nation on his heart, one was
+made to feel that it was also large enough for sympathy with all
+striving with him in the humblest way.
+
+My wife joined me in Washington, and few days later accompanied me
+to the scene of my new labors at Hampton Hospital, near Fortress
+Monroe. There were not many patients at that time (March, 1864) in
+the large barrack wards; but as soon as the Army of the Potomac
+broke through the Wilderness and approached our vicinity,
+transports in increasing numbers, laden with desperately wounded
+men, came to our wharf. During the early summer the wooden
+barracks were speedily filled, and many tent wards were added.
+Duty became constant and severe, while the scenes witnessed were
+often painful in the last degree. More truly than on the field,
+the real horrors of war are learned from the long agonies in the
+hospital. While in the cavalry service, I gained in vigor daily;
+in two months of hospital work I lost thirty pounds. On one day I
+buried as many as twenty-nine men. Every evening, till the duty
+became like a nightmare, I followed the dead-cart, filled up with
+coffins, once, twice, and often thrice, to the cemetery.
+Eventually an associate chaplain was appointed, who relieved me of
+this task.
+
+Fortunately, my tastes led me to employ an antidote to my daily
+work as useful to me as to the patients. Surrounding the hospital
+was much waste land. This, with the approval of the surgeon in
+charge, Dr. Ely McMillan, and the aid of the convalescents, I
+transformed into a garden, and for two successive seasons sent to
+the general kitchen fresh vegetables by the wagon-load. If reward
+were needed, the wistful delight with which a patient from the
+front would regard a raw onion was ample; while for me the care of
+the homely, growing vegetables and fruit brought a diversion of
+mind which made life more endurable.
+
+One of the great needs of the patients who had to fight the
+winning or losing battle of life was good reading, and I speedily
+sought to obtain a supply. Hearts and purses at the North
+responded promptly and liberally; publishers threw off fifty per
+cent from their prices; and I was eventually able to collect, by
+gift and purchase, about three thousand volumes. In gathering this
+library, I provided what may be distinctly termed religious
+reading in abundance; but I also recognized the need of diversion.
+Long wards were filled with men who had lost a leg or an arm, and
+who must lie in one position for weeks. To help them get through
+the time was to help them to live. I therefore made the library
+rich in popular fiction and genial books of travel and biography.
+Full sets of Irving, Cooper, Dickens, Thackeray, Scott, Marryat,
+and other standard works were bought; and many a time I have seen
+a poor fellow absorbed in their pages while holding his stump lest
+the jar of a footstep should send a dart of agony to the point of
+mutilation. My wife gave much assistance in my hospital duties,
+often reaching and influencing those beyond me. I recall one poor
+fellow who was actually six months in dying from a very painful
+wound. Profanity appeared to be his vernacular, and in bitter
+protest at his fate, he would curse nearly every one and
+everything. Mrs. Roe's sympathy and attentions changed him very
+much, and he would listen quietly as long as she would read to
+him. Some of the hospital attendants, men and women, had good
+voices, and we organized a choir. Every Sunday afternoon we went
+from ward to ward singing familiar hymns. It was touching to see
+rough fellows drawing their blankets over their heads to hide the
+emotion caused by words and melodies associated, in many
+instances, with home and mother.
+
+Northern generosity, and, in the main, convalescent labor enabled
+me to build a large commodious chapel and to make great
+improvements in the hospital farm. The site of the hospital and
+garden is now occupied by General Armstrong's Normal and
+Agricultural Institute for Freedmen, and the chapel was occupied
+as a place of worship until very recently. Thus a noble and most
+useful work is being accomplished on the ground consecrated by the
+life-and-death struggles of so many Union soldiers.
+
+In 1865 the blessed era of peace began, bringing its many changes.
+In October the hospital became practically empty, and I resigned.
+The books were sent to Fortress Monroe for the use of the
+garrison, and I found many of them there long years after, almost
+worn out from use.
+
+After a little rest and some candidating for a church, I took a
+small parish at Highland Falls, about a mile from West Point, New
+York, entering on my labors in January, 1866. In this village my
+wife and I spent nine very happy years. They were full of trial
+and many cares, but free from those events which bring the deep
+shadows into one's life. We soon became engaged in building a new
+stone church, whose granite walls are so thick, and hard-wood
+finish so substantial that passing centuries should add only the
+mellowness of age. The effort to raise funds for this enterprise
+led me into the lecture-field and here I found my cavalry-raid and
+army life in general exceedingly useful. I looked around for a
+patch of garden-ground as instinctively as a duck seeks water. The
+small plot adjoining the parsonage speedily grew into about three
+acres, from which eventually came a book entitled "Play and Profit
+in my Garden."
+
+Up to the year 1871 I had written little for publication beyond
+occasional contributions to the New York "Evangelist," nor had I
+seriously contemplated a literary life. I had always been
+extremely fond of fiction, and from boyhood had formed a habit of
+beguiling the solitary hours in weaving crude fancies around
+people who for any reason interested me. I usually had a mental
+serial running, to which I returned when it was my mood; but I had
+never written even a short story. In October, 1871, I was asked to
+preach for a far uptown congregation in New York, with the
+possibility of a settlement in view. On Monday following the
+services of the Sabbath, the officers of the church were kind
+enough to ask me to spend a week with them and visit among the
+people. Meantime, the morning papers laid before us the startling
+fact that the city of Chicago was burning and that its population
+were becoming homeless. The tidings impressed me powerfully,
+waking the deepest sympathy. I said to myself, "Here is a phase of
+life as remarkable as any witnessed during the war." I obeyed the
+impulse to be on the scene as soon as possible, stated my purpose
+to my friends, and was soon among the smoking ruins, finding an
+abiding-place with throngs of others in a partially finished
+hotel. For days and nights I wandered where a city had been, and
+among the extemporized places of refuge harboring all classes of
+people. Late one night I sat for a long time on the steps of
+Robert Collyer's church and watched the full moon through the
+roofless walls and shattered steeple. There was not an evidence of
+life where had been populous streets. It was there and then, as
+nearly as I can remember, that the vague outlines of my first
+story, "Barriers Burned Away," began to take form in my mind. I
+soon returned home, and began to dream and write, giving during
+the following year such hours as could be withdrawn from many
+other duties to the construction of the story. I wrote when and
+where I could--on steamboats, in railway cars, and at all odd
+hours of leisure, often with long breaks in the work of
+composition, caused by the pressure of other affairs, again
+getting up a sort of white heat from incessantly dwelling upon
+scenes and incidents that had become real to me. In brief, the
+story took possession of my mind, and grew as naturally as a plant
+or a weed in my garden.
+
+It will thus be obvious that at nearly middle age, and in
+obedience to an impulse, I was launched as an author; that I had
+very slight literary training; and that my appearance as a
+novelist was quite as great a surprise to myself as to any of my
+friends. The writing of sermons certainly does not prepare one for
+the construction of a novel; and to this day certain critics
+contemptuously dismiss my books as "preaching." During nearly four
+years of army life, at a period when most young men are forming
+style and making the acquaintance of literature, I scarcely had a
+chance to read at all. The subsequent years of the pastorate were
+too active, except for an occasional dip into a favorite author.
+
+While writing my first story, I rarely thought of the public, the
+characters and their experiences absorbing me wholly. When my
+narrative was actually in print, there was wakened a very deep
+interest as to its reception. I had none of the confidence
+resulting from the gradual testing of one's power or from
+association with literary people, and I also was aware that, when
+published, a book was far away from the still waters of which
+one's friends are the protecting headlands. That I knew my work to
+be exceedingly faulty goes without saying; that it was utterly
+bad, I was scarcely ready to believe. Dr. Field, noted for his
+pure English diction and taste, would not publish an irredeemable
+story, and the constituency of the New York "Evangelist" is well
+known to be one of the most intelligent in the country. Friendly
+opinions from serial readers were reassuring as far as they went,
+but of course the great majority of those who followed the story
+were silent. A writer cannot, like a speaker, look into the eyes
+of his audience and observe its mental attitude toward his
+thought. If my memory serves me, Mr. R. R. Bowker was the earliest
+critic to write some friendly words in the "Evening Mail;" but at
+first my venture was very generally ignored. Then some unknown
+friend marked an influential journal published in the interior of
+the State and mailed it so timely that it reached me on Christmas
+eve. I doubt if a book was ever more unsparingly condemned than
+mine in that review, whose final words were, "The story is
+absolutely nauseating." In this instance and in my salad days I
+took pains to find out who the writer was, for if his view was
+correct I certainly should not engage in further efforts to make
+the public ill. I discovered the reviewer to be a gentleman for
+whom I have ever had the highest respect as an editor, legislator,
+and honest thinker. My story made upon him just the impression he
+expressed, and it would be very stupid on my part to blink the
+fact. Meantime, the book was rapidly making for itself friends and
+passing into frequent new editions. Even the editor who condemned
+the work would not assert that those who bought it were an
+aggregation of asses. People cannot be found by thousands who will
+pay a dollar and seventy-five cents for a dime novel or a
+religious tract. I wished to learn the actual truth more sincerely
+than any critic to write it, and at last I ventured to take a copy
+to Mr. George Ripley, of the New York "Tribune." "Here is a man,"
+I thought, "whose fame and position as a critic are recognized by
+all. If he deigns to notice the book, he will not only say what he
+thinks, but I shall have much reason to think as he does." Mr.
+Ripley met the diffident author kindly, asked a few questions, and
+took the volume. A few weeks later, to my great surprise, he gave
+over a column to a review of the story. Although not blind to its
+many faults, he wrote words far more friendly and inspiring than I
+ever hoped to see; it would seem that the public had sanctioned
+his verdict. From that day to this these two instances have been
+types of my experience with many critics, one condemning, another
+commending. There is ever a third class who prove their
+superiority by sneering at or ignoring what is closely related to
+the people. Much thought over my experience led to a conclusion
+which the passing years confirm: the only thing for a writer is to
+be himself and take the consequences. Even those who regard me as
+a literary offender of the blackest dye have never named imitation
+among my sins.
+
+As successive books appeared, I began to recognize more and more
+clearly another phase of an author's experience. A writer
+gradually forms a constituency, certain qualities in his book
+appealing to certain classes of minds. In my own case, I do not
+mean classes of people looked at from the social point of view. A
+writer who takes any hold on popular attention inevitably learns
+the character of his constituency. He appeals, and minds and
+temperaments in sympathy respond. Those he cannot touch go on
+their way indifferently; those he offends may often strike back.
+This is the natural result of any strong assertion of
+individuality. Certainly, if I had my choice, I would rather write
+a book interesting to the young and to the common people, whom
+Lincoln said "God must love, since He made so many of them." The
+former are open to influence; the latter can be quickened and
+prepared for something better. As a matter of fact, I find that
+there are those in all classes whom my books attract, others who
+are repelled, as I have said. It is perhaps one of the pleasantest
+experiences of an author's life to learn from letters and in other
+ways that he is forming a circle of friends, none the less
+friendly because personally unknown. Their loyalty is both a
+safeguard and an inspiration. On one hand, the writer shrinks from
+abusing such regard by careless work; on the other, he is
+stimulated and encouraged by the feeling that there is a group in
+waiting who will appreciate his best endeavor. While I clearly
+recognize my limitations, and have no wish to emulate the frog in
+the fable, I can truthfully say that I take increasing pains with
+each story, aiming to verify every point by experience--my own or
+that of others. Not long since, a critic asserted that changes in
+one of my characters, resulting from total loss of memory, were
+preposterously impossible. If the critic had consulted Ribot's
+"Diseases of Memory," or some experienced physician, he might have
+written more justly. I do not feel myself competent to form a
+valuable opinion as to good art in writing, and I cannot help
+observing that the art doctors disagree wofully among themselves.
+Truth to nature and the realities, and not the following of any
+school or fashion, has ever seemed the safest guide. I sometimes
+venture to think I know a little about human nature. My active
+life brought me in close contact with all kinds of people; there
+was no man in my regiment who hesitated to come to my tent or to
+talk confidentially by the campfire, while scores of dying men
+laid bare to me their hearts. I at least know the nature that
+exists in the human breast. It may be inartistic, or my use of it
+all wrong. That is a question which time will decide, and I shall
+accept the verdict. Over twelve years ago, certain oracles, with
+the voice of fate, predicted my speedy eclipse and disappearance.
+Are they right in their adverse judgment? I can truthfully say
+that now, as at the first, I wish to know the facts in the case.
+The moment an author is conceited about his work, he becomes
+absurd and is passing into a hopeless condition. If worthy to
+write at all, he knows that he falls far short of his ideals; if
+honest, he wishes to be estimated at his true worth, and to cast
+behind him the mean little Satan of vanity. If he walks under a
+conscious sense of greatness, he is a ridiculous figure, for
+beholders remember the literary giants of other days and of his
+own time, and smile at the airs of the comparatively little man.
+On the other hand, no self-respecting writer should ape the false
+deprecating "'umbleness" of Uriah Heep. In short, he wishes to
+pass, like a coin, for just what he is worth. Mr. Matthew Arnold
+was ludicrously unjust to the West when he wrote, "The Western
+States are at this moment being nourished and formed, we hear, on
+the novels of a native author called Roe." Why could not Mr.
+Arnold have taken a few moments to look into the bookstores of the
+great cities of the West, in order to observe for himself how the
+demand of one of the largest and most intelligent reading publics
+in the world is supplied? He would have found that the works of
+Scott and Dickens were more liberally purchased and generally read
+than in his own land of "distinction." He should have discovered
+when in this country that American statesmen (?) are so solicitous
+about the intelligence of their constituents that they give
+publishers so disposed every opportunity to steal novels
+describing the nobility and English persons of distinction; that
+tons of such novels have been sold annually in the West, a
+thousand to one of the "author called Roe." The simple truth in
+the case is that in spite of this immense and cheap competition,
+my novels have made their way and are being read among multitudes
+of others. No one buys or reads a book under compulsion; and if
+any one thinks that the poorer the book the better the chance of
+its being read by the American people, let him try the experiment.
+When a critic condemns my books, I accept that as his judgment;
+when another critic and scores of men and women, the peers of the
+first in cultivation and intelligence, commend the books, I do not
+charge them with gratuitous lying. My one aim has become to do my
+work conscientiously and leave the final verdict to time and the
+public. I wish no other estimate than a correct one; and when the
+public indicate that they have had enough of Roe, I shall neither
+whine nor write.
+
+As a rule, I certainly stumble on my stories, as well as stumble
+through them perhaps. Some incident or unexpected impulse is the
+beginning of their existence. One October day I was walking on a
+country road, and a chestnut burr lay in my path. I said to
+myself, "There is a book in that burr, if I could get it out."
+With little volition on my part, the story "Opening a Chestnut
+Burr" took form and was written.
+
+One summer evening, when in New York, I went up to Thomas's
+Garden, near Central Park, to hear the delicious music he was
+educating us to appreciate. At a certain point in the programme I
+noticed that the next piece would be Beethoven's Fifth Symphony,
+and I glanced around with a sort of congratulatory impulse, as
+much as to say, "Now we shall have a treat." My attention was
+immediately arrested and fixed by a young girl who, with the
+gentleman escorting her, was sitting near by. My first impression
+of her face was one of marvellous beauty, followed by a sense of
+dissatisfaction. Such was my distance that I could not annoy her
+by furtive observation; and I soon discovered that she would
+regard a stare as a tribute. Why was it that her face was so
+beautiful, yet so displeasing? Each feature analyzed seemed
+perfection, yet the general effect was a mocking, ill-kept
+promise. The truth was soon apparent. The expression was not evil,
+but frivolous, silly, unredeemed by any genuine womanly grace. She
+giggled and flirted through the sublime symphony, till in
+exasperation I went out into the promenade under the open sky. In
+less than an hour I had my story "A Face Illumined." I imagined an
+artist seeing what I had seen and feeling a stronger vexation in
+the wounding of his beauty loving nature; that he learned during
+the evening that the girl was a relative of a close friend, and
+that a sojourn at a summer hotel on the Hudson was in prospect. On
+his return home he conceives the idea of painting the girl's
+features and giving them a harmonious expression. Then the fancy
+takes him that the girl is a modern Undine and has not yet
+received her woman's soul. The story relates his effort to
+beautify, illumine the face itself by evoking a mind. I never
+learned who was the actual girl with the features of an angel and
+the face of a fool.
+
+In the case of "He Fell in Love with His Wife," I merely saw a
+paragraph in a paper to the effect that a middle-age widower,
+having found it next to impossible to carry on his farm with hired
+help, had gone to the county poorhouse and said "If there's a
+decent woman here, I'll marry her." For years the homely item
+remained an ungerminating seed in my mind, then started to grow,
+and the story was written in two months.
+
+My war experience has naturally made the picturesque phase of the
+Great Conflict attractive material. In the future I hope to avail
+myself still further of interesting periods in American history.
+
+I find that my love of horticulture and outdoor life has grown
+with the years. I do not pretend to scientific accuracy or
+knowledge. On the contrary, I have regarded plants and birds
+rather as neighbors, and have associated with them. When giving to
+my parish, I bought a place in the near vicinity of the house
+which I had spent my childhood. The front windows of our house
+command a noble view of the Hudson, while on the east and south
+the Highlands are within rifle-shot. For several years I hesitated
+to trust solely to literary work for support. As I have said, not
+a few critics insisted that my books should not be read, and would
+soon cease to be read. But whether the prediction should prove
+true or not, I knew in any case that the critics themselves would
+eat my strawberries; so I made the culture of small fruits the
+second string to my bow. This business speedily took the form of
+growing plants for sale, and was developing rapidly, when
+financial misfortune led to my failure and the devotion of my
+entire time to writing. Perhaps it was just as well in the end,
+for my health was being undermined by too great and conflicting
+demands on my energy. In 1878, at Dr. Holland's request, I wrote a
+series of papers on small fruits for "Scribner's Magazine"--papers
+that were expanded into a book entitled "Success with Small
+Fruits." I now aim merely at an abundant home supply of fruits and
+vegetables, but in securing this, find pleasure and profit in
+testing the many varieties catalogued and offered by nurserymen
+and seedsmen. About three years ago the editor of "Harper's
+Magazine" asked me to write one or two papers entitled "One Acre,"
+telling its possessor how to make the most and best of it. When
+entering on the task, I found there was more in it than I had at
+first supposed. Changing the title to "The Home Acre," I decided
+to write a book or manual which might be useful in many rural
+homes. There are those who have neither time nor inclination to
+read the volumes and journals devoted to horticulture, who yet
+have gardens and trees in which they are interested. They wish to
+learn in the shortest, clearest way just what to do in order to
+secure success, without going into theories, whys, and wherefores,
+or concerning themselves with the higher mysteries of garden-lore.
+This work is now in course of preparation. In brief, my aim is to
+have the book grow out of actual experience, and not merely my
+own, either. As far as possible, well-known experts and
+authorities are consulted on every point. As a natural
+consequence, the book is growing, like the plants to which it
+relates. It cannot be written "offhand" or finished "on time" to
+suit any one except Dame Nature, who, being feminine, is often
+inscrutable and apparently capricious. The experience of one
+season is often reversed in the next, and the guide in gardening
+of whom I am most afraid is the man who is always sure he is
+right. It was my privilege to have the late Mr. Charles Downing as
+one of my teachers, and well do I remember how that honest,
+sagacious, yet docile student of nature would "put on the brakes"
+when I was passing too rapidly to conclusions. It has always been
+one of my most cherished purposes to interest people in the
+cultivation of the soil and rural life. My effort is to "boil
+down" information to the simplest and most practical form. Last
+spring, hundreds of varieties of vegetables and small fruits were
+planted. A carefully written record is being kept from the time of
+planting until the crop is gathered.
+
+My methods of work are briefly these: I go into my study
+immediately after breakfast--usually about nine o'clock--and write
+or study until three or four in the afternoon, stopping only for a
+light lunch. In the early morning and late afternoon I go around
+my place, giving directions to the men, and observing the
+condition of vegetables, flowers, and trees, and the general
+aspect of nature at the time. After dinner, the evening is devoted
+to the family, friends, newspapers, and light reading. In former
+years I wrote at night, but after a severe attack of insomnia this
+practice was almost wholly abandoned. As a rule, the greater part
+of a year is absorbed in the production of a novel, and I am often
+gathering material for several years in advance of writing.
+
+For manuscript purposes I use bound blankbooks of cheap paper. My
+sheets are thus kept securely together and in place--important
+considerations in view of the gales often blowing through my study
+and the habits of a careless man. This method offers peculiar
+advantages for interpolation, as there is always a blank page
+opposite the one on which I am writing. After correcting the
+manuscript, it is put in typewriting and again revised. There are
+also two revisions of the proof. While I do not shirk the tasks
+which approach closely to drudgery, especially since my eyesight
+is not so good as it was, I also obtain expert assistance. I find
+that when a page has become very familiar and I am rather tired of
+it, my mind wanders from the close, fixed attention essential to
+the best use of words. Perhaps few are endowed with both the
+inventive and the critical faculty. A certain inner sense enables
+one to know, according to his lights, whether the story itself is
+true or false; but elegance of style is due chiefly to training,
+to a cultivation like that of the ear for music. Possibly we are
+entering on an age in which the people care less for form, for
+phraseology, than for what seems to them true, real--for what, as
+they would express it, "takes hold of them." This is no plea or
+excuse for careless work, but rather a suggestion that the day of
+prolix, fine, flowery writing is passing. The immense number of
+well-written books in circulation has made success with careless,
+slovenly manuscripts impossible. Publishers and editors will not
+even read, much less publish them. Simplicity, lucidity, strength,
+a plunge in medias res, are now the qualities and conditions
+chiefly desired, rather than finely turned sentences in which it
+is apparent more labor has been expended on the vehicle than on
+what it contains. The questions of this eager age are, What has he
+to say? Does it interest us? As an author, I have felt that my
+only chance of gaining and keeping the attention of men and women
+was to know, to understand them, to feel with and for them in what
+constituted their life. Failing to do this, why should a line of
+my books be read? Who reads a modern novel from sense of duty?
+There are classics which all must read and pretend to enjoy
+whether capable of doing so or not. No critic has ever been so
+daft as to call any of my books a classic. Better books are unread
+because the writer is not en rapport with the reader. The time has
+passed when either the theologian, the politician, or the critic
+can take the American citizen metaphorically by the shoulder and
+send him along the path in which they think he should go. He has
+become the most independent being in the world, good-humoredly
+tolerant of the beliefs and fancies of others, while reserving, as
+a matter of course, the right to think for himself.
+
+In appealing to the intelligent American public, choosing for
+itself among the multitude of books now offered, it is my creed
+that an author should maintain completely and thoroughly his own
+individuality, and take the consequences. He cannot conjure
+strongly by imitating any one, or by representing any school or
+fashion. He must do his work conscientiously, for his readers know
+by instinct whether or not they are treated seriously and with
+respect. Above all, he must understand men and women sufficiently
+to interest them; for all the "powers that be" cannot compel them
+to read a book they do not like.
+
+My early experience in respect to my books in the British
+Dominions has been similar to that of many others. My first
+stories were taken by one or more publishers without saying "by
+your leave," and no returns made of any kind. As time passed,
+Messrs. Ward, Locke & Co., more than any other house, showed a
+disposition to treat me fairly. Increasing sums were given for
+successive books. Recently Mr. George Locke visited me, and
+offered liberal compensation for each new novel. He also agreed to
+give me five per cent copyright on all my old books published by
+him, no matter how obtained, in some instances revoking agreements
+which precluded the making of any such request on my part. In the
+case of many of these books he has no protection, for they are
+published by others; but he takes the simple ground that he will
+not sell any of my books without giving me a share in the profit.
+Such honorable action should tend to make piracy more odious than
+ever, on both sides of the sea. Other English firms have offered
+me the usual royalty, and I now believe that in spite of our House
+of Mis-Representatives at Washington, the majority of the British
+publishers are disposed to deal justly and honorably by American
+writers. In my opinion, the LOWER House in Congress has libelled
+and slandered the American people by acting as if their
+constituents, with thievish instincts, chuckled over pennies saved
+when buying pirated books. This great, rich, prosperous nation has
+been made a "fence," a receiver of stolen goods, and shamelessly
+committed to the crime for which poor wretches are sent to jail.
+Truly, when history is written, and it is learned that the whole
+power and statesmanship of the government were enlisted in behalf
+of the pork interest, while the literature of the country and the
+literary class were contemptuously ignored, it may be that the
+present period will become known as the Pork Era of the Republic.
+It is a strange fact that English publishers are recognizing our
+rights in advance of our own lawmakers.
+
+In relating his experience in the pages of this magazine, Mr.
+Julian Hawthorne said in effect that one of the best rewards of
+the literary life was the friends it enabled the writer to make.
+When giving me his friendship, he proved how true this is. In my
+experience the literary class make good, genial, honest friends,
+while their keen, alert minds and knowledge of life in many of its
+most interesting aspects give an unfailing charm to their society.
+One can maintain the most cordial and intimate relations with
+editors of magazines and journals if he will recognize that such
+relations should have no influence whatever in the acceptance or
+declination of manuscripts. I am constantly receiving letters from
+literary aspirants who appear to think that if I will use a little
+influence their stories or papers would be taken and paid for. I
+have no such influence, nor do I wish any, in regard to my own
+work. The conscientious editor's first duty is to his periodical
+and its constituents, and he would and should be more scrupulous
+in accepting a manuscript from a friend than from a stranger. To
+show resentment because a manuscript is returned is absurd,
+however great may be our disappointment.
+
+Perhaps one of the most perplexing and often painful experiences
+of an author comes from the appeals of those who hope through him
+to obtain immediate recognition as writers. One is asked to read
+manuscripts and commend them to publishers, or at least to give an
+opinion in regard to them, often to revise or even to rewrite
+certain portions. I remember that during one month I was asked to
+do work on the manuscripts of strangers that would require about a
+year of my time. The maker of such request does not realize that
+he or she is but one among many, and that the poor author would
+have to abandon all hope of supporting his family if he tried to
+comply. The majority who thus appeal to one know next to nothing
+of the literary life or the conditions of success. They write to
+the author in perfect good faith, often relating circumstances
+which touch his sympathies; yet if you tell them the truth about
+their manuscript, or say you have not time to read it, adding that
+you have no influence with editors or publishers beyond securing a
+careful examination of what is written, you feel that you are
+often set down as a churl, and your inability to comply with their
+wishes is regarded as the selfishness and arrogance of success.
+The worried author has also his own compunctions, for while he has
+tried so often and vainly to secure the recognition requested,
+till he is in despair of such effort, he still is haunted by the
+fear that he may overlook some genius whom it would be a delight
+to guide through what seems a thorny jungle to the inexperienced.
+
+In recalling the past, one remembers when he stood in such sore
+need of friends that he dislikes even the appearance of passing by
+on the other side. There are no riches in the world like stanch
+friends who prove themselves to be such in your need, your
+adversity, or your weakness. I have some treasured letters
+received after it had been telegraphed throughout the land that I
+was a bankrupt and had found myself many thousands of dollars
+worse off than nothing. The kindly words and looks, the cordial
+grasp of the hand, and the temporary loan occasionally, of those
+who stood by me when scarcely sane from overwork, trouble, and,
+worse than all, from insomnia, can never be forgotten while a
+trace of memory is left. Soon after my insolvency there came a
+date when all my interests in my books then published must be sold
+to the highest bidder. It seemed in a sense like putting my
+children up at auction; and yet I was powerless, since my
+interests under contracts were a part of my assets. These rights
+had been well advertised in the New York and county papers, as the
+statute required, and the popularity of the books was well known.
+Any one in the land could have purchased these books from me
+forever. A friend made the highest bid and secured the property.
+My rights in my first nine novels became his, legally and
+absolutely. There was even no verbal agreement between us--nothing
+but his kind, honest eyes to reassure me. He not only paid the sum
+he had bidden, but then and there wrote a check for a sum which,
+with my other assets, immediately liquidated my personal debts,
+principal and interest. The children of my fancy are again my
+children, for they speedily earned enough to repay my friend and
+to enable him to compromise with the holders of indorsed notes in
+a way satisfactory to them. It so happened that most of these
+creditors resided in my immediate neighborhood. I determined to
+fight out the battle in their midst and under their daily
+observation, and to treat all alike, without regard to their legal
+claims. Only one creditor tried to make life a burden; but he did
+his level best. The others permitted me to meet my obligations in
+my own time and way, and I am grateful for their consideration.
+When all had received the sum mutually agreed upon, and I had
+shaken hands with them, I went to the quaint and quiet little city
+of Santa Barbara, on the Pacific coast, for a change and partial
+rest. While there, however, I wrote my Charleston story, "The
+Earth Trembled." In September, 1887, I returned to my home at
+Cornwall-on-the-Hudson, and resumed my work in a region made dear
+by the memories of a lifetime. Just now I am completing a Southern
+story entitled "Miss Lou."
+
+It so happens in my experience that I have discovered one who
+appears willing to stick closer to me than a brother, and even to
+pass as my "double," or else he is so helplessly in the hands of
+his publishers as to be an object of pity. A certain "Edward R.
+Roe" is also an author, and is suffering cruelly in reputation
+because his publishers so manage that he is identified with me. By
+strange coincidence, they hit upon a cover for his book which is
+almost a facsimile of the cover of my pamphlet novel, "An Original
+Belle," previously issued. The R in the name of this unfortunate
+man has been furnished with such a diminutive tail that it passes
+for a P, and even my friends supposed that the book, offered
+everywhere for sale, was mine. In many instances I have asked at
+news stands, "Whose book is that?" The prompt and invariable
+answer has been, "E. P. Roe's." I have seen book notices in which
+the volume was ascribed to me in anything but flattering terms. A
+distinguished judge, in a carefully written opinion, is so
+uncharitable as to characterize the coincidence in cover as a
+"fraud," and to say, "No one can look at the covers of the two
+publications and fail to see evidence of a design to deceive the
+public and to infringe upon the rights of the publisher and
+author"--that is, the rights of Messrs. Dodd, Mead would be well,
+as a rule, for other writers to begin with reputable, honorable
+publishers and to remain with them. A publisher can do more and
+better with a line of books than with isolated volumes. When an
+author's books are scattered, there is not sufficient inducement
+for any one to push them strongly, nor, as in the case above
+related, to protect a writer against a "double," should one
+appear. Authors often know little about business, and should deal
+with a publisher who will look after their interests as truly as
+his own. Unbusinesslike habits and methods are certainly not
+traits to be cultivated, for we often suffer grievously from their
+existence; yet as far as possible the author should be free from
+distracting cares. The novelist does his best work when abstracted
+from the actual world and living in its ideal counterpart which
+for the time he is imagining. When his creative work is completed,
+he should live very close to the real world, or else he will be
+imagining a state of things which neither God nor man had any hand
+in bringing about.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+TAKEN ALIVE AND OTHER STORIES
+
+
+
+
+TAKEN ALIVE
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+SOMETHING BEFORE UNKNOWN
+
+
+Clara Heyward was dressed in deep mourning, and it was evident
+that the emblems of bereavement were not worn merely in compliance
+with a social custom. Her face was pallid from grief, and her dark
+beautiful eyes were dim from much weeping. She sat in the little
+parlor of a cottage located in a large Californian city, and
+listened with apathetic expression as a young man pleaded for the
+greatest and most sacred gift that a woman can bestow. Ralph
+Brandt was a fine type of young vigorous manhood; and we might
+easily fancy that his strong, resolute face, now eloquent with
+deep feeling, was not one upon which a girl could look with
+indifference. Clara's words, however, revealed the apparent
+hopelessness of his suit.
+
+"It's of no use, Ralph," she said; "I'm in no mood for such
+thoughts."
+
+"You don't believe in me; you don't trust me," he resumed sadly.
+"You think that because I was once wild, and even worse, that I'll
+not be true to my promises and live an honest life. Have I not
+been honest when I knew that being so might cost me dear? Have I
+not told you of my past life and future purposes when I might have
+concealed almost everything?"
+
+"It's not that, Ralph. I do believe you are sincere; and if the
+dreadful thing which has broken me down with sorrow had not
+happened, all might have been as you wish. I should have quite as
+much confidence in a young man who, like you, has seen evil and
+turned resolutely away from it, as in one who didn't know much
+about the world or himself either. What's more, father--"
+
+At the word "father" her listless manner vanished, and she gave
+way to passionate sobs. "His foul murder is always before me," she
+wailed. "Oh, we were so happy! he was so kind, and made me his
+companion! I don't see how I can live without him. I can't think
+of love and marriage when I remember how he died, and that the
+villain who killed him is at large and unpunished. What right have
+I to forget this great wrong and to try to be happy? No, no! the
+knife that killed him pierced my heart; and it's bleeding all the
+time. I'm not fit to be any man's wife; and I will not bring my
+great sorrow into any man's home."
+
+Brandt sprang up and paced the room for a few moments, his brow
+contracted in deep thought. Then, apparently coming to a decision,
+he sat down by his companion and took her cold, unresisting hand.
+
+"My poor little girl," he said, kindly, "you don't half understand
+me yet. I love you all the more because you are heart-broken and
+pale with grief. That is the reason I have spoken so earnestly to-
+night. You will grieve yourself to death if left alone; and what
+good would your death do any one? It would spoil my life. Believe
+me, I would welcome you to my home with all your sorrow--all the
+more because of your sorrow; and I'd be so kind and patient that
+you'd begin to smile again some day. That's what your father would
+wish if he could speak to you, and not that you should grieve away
+your life for what can't be helped now. But I have a plan. It's
+right in my line to capture such scoundrels as the man who
+murdered your father; and what's more, I know the man, or rather I
+used to in old times. I've played many a game of euchre with him
+in which he cheated me out of money that I'd be glad to have now;
+and I'm satisfied that he does not know of any change in me. I was
+away on distant detective duty, you know, when your father was
+killed. I won't ask you to go over the painful circumstances; I
+can learn them at the prison. I shall try to get permission to
+search out Bute, desperate and dangerous as he is--"
+
+"Oh, Ralph, Ralph," cried the girl, springing up, her eyes
+flashing through her tears, "if you will bring my father's
+murderer to justice, if you will prevent him from destroying other
+lives, as he surely will, you will find that I can refuse you
+nothing."
+
+Then she paused, shook her head sadly, and withdrew the hand she
+had given him. "No," she resumed, "I shouldn't ask this; I don't
+ask it. As you say, he is desperate and dangerous; and he would
+take your life the moment he dreamed of your purpose. I should
+only have another cause for sorrow."
+
+Brandt now smiled as if he were master of the situation. "Why,
+Clara," he exclaimed, "don't you know that running down and
+capturing desperadoes is now part of my business?"
+
+"Yes; but you can get plenty of work that isn't so dangerous."
+
+"I should be a nice fellow to ask you to be my wife and yet show I
+was afraid to arrest your father's murderer. You needn't ask me to
+do this; you are not going to be responsible for my course in the
+least. I shall begin operations this very night, and have no doubt
+that I can get a chance to work on the case. Now don't burden your
+heart with any thoughts about my danger. I myself owe Bute as big
+a grudge as I can have against any human being. He cheated me and
+led me into deviltry years ago, and then I lost sight of him until
+he was brought to the prison of which your father was one of the
+keepers. I've been absent for the last three months, you know; but
+I didn't forget you or your father a day, and you remember I wrote
+you as soon as I heard of your trouble. I think your father sort
+of believed in me; he never made me feel I wasn't fit to see you
+or to be with you, and I'd do more for him living or dead than for
+any other man."
+
+"He did believe in you, Ralph, and he always spoke well of you.
+Oh, you can't know how much I lost in him! After mother died he
+did not leave me to the care of strangers, but gave me most of his
+time when off duty. He sent me to the best schools, bought me
+books to read, and took me out evenings instead of going off by
+himself, as so many men do. He was so kind and so brave; oh, oh!
+you know he lost his life by trying to do his duty when another
+man would have given up. Bute and two others broke jail. Father
+saw one of his assistants stabbed, and he was knocked down
+himself. He might have remained quiet and escaped with a few
+bruises; but he caught Bute's foot, and then the wretch turned and
+stabbed him. He told me all with his poor pale lips before he
+died. Oh, oh! when shall I forget?"
+
+"You can never forget, dear; I don't ask anything contrary to
+nature. You were a good daughter, and so I believe you will be a
+good wife. But if I bring the murderer to justice, you will feel
+that a great wrong has been righted--that all has been done that
+can be done. Then you'll begin to think that your father wouldn't
+wish you to grieve yourself to death, and that as he tried to make
+you happy while he was living, so he will wish you to be happy now
+he's gone."
+
+"It isn't a question of happiness. I don't feel as if I could ever
+be happy again; and so I don't see how I can make you or any one
+else happy."
+
+"That's my lookout, Clara. I'd be only too glad to take you as you
+are. Come, now, this is December. If I bring Bute in by Christmas,
+what will you give me?"
+
+She silently and eloquently gave him her hand; but her lips
+quivered so she could not speak. He kissed her hand as gallantly
+as any olden-time knight, then added a little brusquely:
+
+"See here, little girl, I'm not going to bind you by anything that
+looks like a bargain. I shall attempt all I've said; and then on
+Christmas, or whenever I get back, I'll speak my heart to you
+again just as I have spoken now."
+
+"When a man acts as you do, Ralph, any girl would find it hard to
+keep free. I shall follow you night and day with my thoughts and
+prayers."
+
+"Well, I'm superstitious enough to believe that I shall be safer
+and more successful on account of them. Clara, look me in the eyes
+before I go."
+
+She looked up to his clear gray eyes as requested.
+
+"I don't ask you to forget one who is dead; but don't you see how
+much you are to one who is living? Don't you see that in spite of
+all your sorrow you can still give happiness? Now, be as generous
+and kind as you can. Don't grieve hopelessly while I'm gone.
+That's what is killing you; and the thought of it fills me with
+dread. Try to think that you still have something and some one to
+live for. Perhaps you can learn to love me a little if you try,
+and then everything won't look so black. If you find you can't
+love me, I won't blame you--, and if I lose you as my wife, you
+won't lose a true, honest friend."
+
+For the first time the girl became vaguely conscious of, the
+possibility of an affection, a tie superseding all others; she
+began to see how it was possible to give herself to this man, not
+from an impulse of gratitude or because she liked him better than
+any one else, but because of a feeling, new, mysterious, which
+gave him a sort of divine right in her. Something in the
+expression of his eyes had been more potent than his words;
+something subtle, swift as an electric spark had passed from him
+to her, awakening a faint, strange tumult in the heart she thought
+so utterly crushed. A few moments before, she could have promised
+resolutely to be his wife; she could have permitted his embrace
+with unresponsive apathy. Now she felt a sudden shyness. A faint
+color stole into her pale face, and she longed to be alone.
+
+"Ralph," she faltered, "you are so generous, I--I don't know what
+to say."
+
+"You needn't say anything till I come back. If possible, I will be
+here by Christmas, for you shouldn't be alone that day with your
+grief. Good-by."
+
+The hand she gave him trembled, and her face was averted now.
+
+"You will try to love me a little, won't you?"
+
+"Yes," she whispered.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+A VISITOR AT THE MINE
+
+
+Ralph Brandt was admirably fitted for the task he had undertaken.
+With fearlessness he united imperturbable coolness and unwearied
+patience in pursuit of an object. Few knew him in his character of
+detective, and no one would have singled him out as an expert in
+his calling. The more difficult and dangerous the work, the more
+careless and indifferent his manner, giving the impression to
+superficial observers of being the very last person to be
+intrusted with responsible duty. But his chief and others on the
+force well knew that beneath Brandt's careless demeanor was
+concealed the relentless pertinacity of a bloodhound on track of
+its victim. With the trait of dogged pursuit all resemblance to
+the bloodthirsty animal ceased, and even the worst of criminals
+found him kind-hearted and good-natured AFTER they were within his
+power. Failure was an idea not to be entertained. If the man to be
+caught existed, he could certainly be found, was the principle on
+which our officer acted.
+
+He readily obtained permission to attempt the capture of the
+escaped prisoner, Bute; but the murderer had disappeared, leaving
+no clew. Brandt learned that the slums of large cities and several
+mining camps had been searched in vain, also that the trains
+running east had been carefully watched. We need not try to follow
+his processes of thought, nor seek to learn how he soon came to
+the conclusion that his man was at some distant mining station
+working under an assumed name. By a kind of instinct his mind kept
+reverting to one of these stations with increasing frequency. It
+was not so remote in respect to mere distance; but it was
+isolated, off the lines of travel, with a gap of seventy miles
+between it and what might be termed civilization, and was
+suspected of being a sort of refuge for hard characters and
+fugitives from justice. Bute, when last seen, was making for the
+mountains in the direction of this mine. Invested with ample
+authority to bring in the outlaw dead or alive, Brandt followed
+this vague clew.
+
+One afternoon, Mr. Alford, the superintendent of the mine, was
+informed that a man wished to see him. There was ushered into his
+private office an elderly gentleman who appeared as if he might be
+a prospecting capitalist or one of the owners of the mine. The
+superintendent was kept in doubt as to the character of the
+visitor for a few moments while Brandt sought by general remarks
+and leading questions to learn the disposition of the man who
+must, from the necessities of the case, become to some extent his
+ally in securing the ends of justice. Apparently the detective was
+satisfied, for he asked, suddenly:
+
+"By the way, have you a man in your employ by the name of Bute?"
+
+"No, sir," replied Mr. Alford, with a little surprise.
+
+"Have you a man, then, who answers to the following description?"
+He gave a brief word photograph of the criminal.
+
+"You want this man?" Mr. Alford asked in a low voice.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, really, sir, I would like to know your motive, indeed, I
+may add, your authority, for--"
+
+"There it is," Brand smilingly remarked, handing the
+superintendent a paper.
+
+"Oh, certainly, certainly," said Mr. Alford, after a moment. "This
+is all right; and I am bound to do nothing to obstruct you in the
+performance of your duty." He now carefully closed the door and
+added, "What do you want this man for?"
+
+"It's a case of murder."
+
+"Phew! Apparently he is one of the best men on the force."
+
+"Only apparently; I know him well."
+
+Mr. Alford's brow clouded with anxiety, and after a moment he
+said, "Mr.--how shall I address you?"
+
+"You had better continue to call me by the name under which I was
+introduced--Brown."
+
+"Well, Mr. Brown, you have a very difficult and hazardous task,
+and you must be careful how you involve me in your actions. I
+shall not lay a straw in your way, but I cannot openly help you.
+It is difficult for me to get labor here at best; and it is
+understood that I ask no questions and deal with men on the basis
+simply of their relations to me. As long as I act on this
+understanding, I can keep public sentiment with me and enforce
+some degree of discipline. If it were known that I was aiding or
+abetting you in the enterprise you have in hand, my life would not
+be worth a rush. There are plenty in camp who would shoot me, just
+as they would you, should they learn of your design. I fear you do
+not realize what you are attempting. A man like yourself, elderly
+and alone, has no better chance of taking such a fellow as you
+describe Bute to be than of carrying a ton of ore on his back down
+the mountain. In all sincerity, sir, I must advise you to depart
+quietly and expeditiously, and give no one besides myself a hint
+of your errand."
+
+"Will you please step into the outer office and make sure that no
+one is within earshot?" said Brandt, quietly.
+
+When Mr. Alford returned, the elderly man apparently had
+disappeared, and a smiling smooth-faced young fellow with short
+brown hair sat in his place. His host stared, the transformation
+was so great.
+
+"Mr. Alford," said the detective, "I understand my business and
+the risks it involves. All I ask of you is that I may not be
+interfered with so far as you are concerned; and my chief object
+in calling is to prevent you being surprised by anything you may
+see or hear. About three miles or thereabouts from here, on the
+road running east, there is a fellow who keeps a tavern. Do you
+know him?"
+
+"I know no good of him. He's the worst nuisance I have to contend
+with, for he keeps some of my men disabled much of the time."
+
+"Well, I knew Bute years ago, and I can make him think I am now
+what I was then, only worse; and I will induce him to go with me
+to raid that tavern. If this plan fails, I shall try another, for
+I am either going to take Bute alive or else get ample proof that
+he is dead. There may be some queer goings-on before I leave, and
+all I ask is that you will neither interfere nor investigate. You
+may be as ignorant and non-committal as you please. I shall report
+progress to you, however, and may need your testimony, but will
+see to it that it is given by you as one who had nothing to do
+with the affair. Now please show me your quarters, so that I can
+find you at night if need be; also Bute's sleeping-place and the
+lay of the land to some extent. You'll find that I can take
+everything in mighty quick. See, I'm the elderly gentleman again,"
+and he resumed his disguise with marvellous celerity.
+
+Mr. Alford led the way through the outer office; and the two
+clerks writing there saw nothing to awaken the slightest
+suspicion. The superintendent's cottage stood on the road leading
+to the mine and somewhat apart from the other buildings. On the
+opposite side of the highway was a thicket of pines which promised
+cover until one plunged into the unbroken forest that covered the
+mountain-side.
+
+Brandt observed this, and remarked, "I've studied the approaches
+to your place a little at I came along; but I suppose I shall have
+to give a day or two more to the work before making my attempt."
+
+"Well," rejoined Mr. Alford, who was of rather a social turn and
+felt the isolation of his life, "why not be my guest for a time?
+I'll take the risk if you will remain incog., and keep aloof from
+the men."
+
+"That I should do in any event till ready to act. Thank you for
+your kindness, for it may simplify my task very much. I will see
+to it that I do not compromise you. When I'm ready to snare my
+bird, you can dismiss me a little ostentatiously for New York."
+
+Brandt's horse was now ordered to the stable. The two men entered
+the cottage, and soon afterward visited the different points of
+interest, Mr. Alford giving the natural impression that he was
+showing an interested stranger the appliances for working the
+mine. At one point he remarked in a low tone, "That's Bute's
+lodging-place. A half-breed, named Apache Jack, who speaks little
+English lives with him."
+
+Brandt's seemingly careless and transitory glance rested on a
+little shanty and noted that it was separated from others of its
+class by a considerable interval.
+
+"Bute, you say, is on the day-shift."
+
+"Yes, he won't be up till six o'clock."
+
+"I'll manage to see him then without his knowing it."
+
+"Be careful. I take my risk on the ground of your good faith and
+prudence."
+
+"Don't fear."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THWARTED
+
+
+Brandt maintained his disguise admirably. His presence caused
+little comment, and he was spoken of as a visiting stockholder of
+the mine. During his walk with Mr. Alford he appeared interested
+only in machinery, ores, etc., but his trained eyes made a
+topographical map of surroundings, and everything centred about
+Bute's shanty. In the evening, he amply returned his host's
+hospitality by comic and tragic stories of criminal life. The next
+day he began to lay his plans carefully, and disappeared soon
+after breakfast with the ostensible purpose of climbing a height
+at some distance for the sake of the prospect. He soon doubled
+round, noting every covert approach to Bute's lodgings. His eye
+and ear were as quick as an Indian's; but he still maintained, in
+case he was observed, the manner of an elderly stranger strolling
+about to view the region.
+
+By noon he felt that he had the immediate locality by heart. His
+afternoon task was to explore the possibilities of a stream that
+crossed the mine road something over a mile away, and for this
+purpose he mounted his horse. He soon reached the shallow ford,
+and saw that the water was backed up for a considerable distance,
+and that the shallows certainly extended around a high, jutting
+rock which hid the stream from that point and beyond from the
+road. The bed appeared smooth, firm, and sandy, and he waded his
+horse up the gentle current until he was concealed from the
+highway. A place, however, was soon reached where the water came
+tumbling down over impassable rocks; and he was compelled to
+ascend the wooded shore. This he did on the side nearest to the
+mine house, and found that with care he could lead his horse to a
+point that could not be, he thought, over half a mile from the
+superintendent's cottage. Here there was a little dell around
+which the pines grew so darkly and thickly that he determined to
+make it his covert should he fail in his first attempt. His object
+now was to see if his estimate of proximity to the mine was
+correct; and leaving his horse, he pushed up the mountain-side. At
+last he reached a precipitous ledge. Skirting this a short
+distance, he found a place of comparatively easy ascent, and soon
+learned with much satisfaction that he was not over two hundred
+yards from the thicket opposite Mr. Alford's quarters. These
+discoveries all favored possible future operations; and he
+retraced his steps, marking his returning path by bits of white
+paper, held in place by stones against the high prevailing winds.
+Near the spot where he had left his horse he found a nook among
+the rocks in which a fire would be well hidden. Having marked the
+place carefully with his eye and obtained his bearings, he led his
+horse back to the stream and reached the unfrequented road again
+without being observed.
+
+His next task was to discover some kind of a passageway from the
+mine road to a point on the main highway, leading to the west and
+out of the mountains. He found no better resource than to strike
+directly into the forest and travel by points of the compass.
+Fortunately, the trees were lofty and comparatively open, and he
+encountered no worse difficulties than some steep and rugged
+descents, and at last emerged on the post road at least a mile to
+the west of the tavern, which stood near its intersection with the
+mine road; Returning, he again marked out a path with paper as he
+had before. The sun was now low in the sky; and as he trotted
+toward the mine, he had but one more precaution to take, and that
+was to find a place where the trees were sufficiently open to
+permit him to ride into their shade at night in case he wished to
+avoid parties upon the road. Having indicated two or three such
+spots by a single bit of paper that would glimmer in the
+moonlight, he joined Mr. Alford at supper, feeling that his
+preparations were nearly complete. When they were alone, he told
+his host that it would be best not to gratify his curiosity, for
+then he could honestly say that he knew nothing of any detective's
+plans or whereabouts.
+
+"I cannot help feeling," said Mr. Alford, "that you are playing
+with fire over a powder magazine. Now that I know you better, I
+hate to think of the risk that you are taking. It has troubled me
+terribly all day. I feel as if we were on the eve of a tragedy.
+You had better leave quietly in the morning and bring a force
+later that would make resistance impossible, or else give it up
+altogether. Why should you throw away your life? I tell you again
+that if the men get a hint of your character or purpose they will
+hunt you to death."
+
+"It's a part of my business to incur such risks," replied Brandt,
+quietly. "Besides, I have a motive in this case which would lead
+me to take a man out of the jaws of hell."
+
+"That's what you may find you are attempting here. Well, we're in
+for it now, I suppose, since you are so determined."
+
+"I don't think you will appear involved in the affair at all. In
+the morning you give me a sack of grain for my horse and some
+provisions for myself, and then bid farewell to Mr. Brown in the
+most open and natural manner possible. You may not see me again.
+It is possible I may have to borrow a horse of you it my scheme
+to-night don't work. It will be returned or paid for very soon."
+
+"Bute has a pony. He brought it with him, and he and Apache Jack
+between them manage to keep it. They stable it nights in a little
+shed back of their shanty."
+
+"I had discovered this, and hope to take the man away on his pony.
+I understand why Bute keeps the animal. He knew that he might have
+to travel suddenly and fast."
+
+The next morning Mr. Alford parted with Brandt as had been
+arranged, the latter starting ostensibly for the nearest railway
+station. All day long the superintendent was nervous and anxious;
+but he saw no evidences of suspicion or uneasiness among those in
+his employ.
+
+Brandt rode at a sharp canter as long as he was in sight, and then
+approached the stream slowly and warily. When satisfied that he
+was unobserved, he again passed up its shallow bed around the
+concealing rock, and sought his hiding-place on the mountain-side.
+Aware that the coming nights might require ceaseless activity, his
+first measure was to secure a few hours of sound sleep; and he had
+so trained himself that he could, as it were, store up rest
+against long and trying emergencies. The rocks sheltered him
+against the wind, and a fire gave all the comfort his hardy frame
+required, as he reposed on his couch of pine-needles. Early in the
+afternoon he fed his horse, took a hearty meal himself, and
+concealed the remaining store so that no wild creatures could get
+at it. At early twilight he returned by way of the stream and hid
+his horse well back in the woods near the mine. To this he now
+went boldly, and inquired for Tim Atkins, Bute's assumed name. He
+was directed to the shanty with which he had already made himself
+so familiar.
+
+Bute was found alone, and was much surprised at sight of his old
+gambling acquaintance of better days, for his better days were
+those of robbery before he had added the deeper stain of murder.
+Brandt soon allayed active fears and suspicions by giving the
+impression that in his descensus he had reached the stage of
+robbery and had got on the scent of some rich booty in the
+mountains. "But how did you know I was here?" demanded Bute.
+
+"I didn't know it," replied Brandt, adopting his old vernacular;
+"but I guessed as much, for I knew there was more'n one shady
+feller in this gang, and I took my chances on findin' you, for,
+says I to myself, if I can find Bute, I've found the right man to
+help me crack a ranch when there's some risk and big plunder."
+
+He then disclosed the fact of hearing that the keeper of the
+tavern had accumulated a good sum of hard money, and was looking
+out for a chance to send it to a bank. "We can save him the
+trouble, yer know," he concluded, facetiously.
+
+"Well," said Bute, musingly, "I'm gittin' tired of this dog's
+life, and I reckon I'll go snacks with yer and then put out fer
+parts unknown. I was paid t'other day, and there ain't much owin'
+me here. I guess it'll be safer fer me ter keep movin' on, too."
+
+"You may well say that, Bute. I heard below that there was goin'
+to be some investigations inter this gang, and that there was
+more'n one feller here whose pictur was on exhibition."
+
+"That so?" said Bute, hastily. "Well, I'll go with yer ter-night,
+fer it's time I was movin'. I kin tell yer one thing, though--
+there'll be no investigations here unless a fair-sized regiment
+makes it. Every man keeps his shooter handy."
+
+"Hanged if we care how the thing turns out. You and me'll be far
+enough away from the shindy. Now make your arrangements prompt,
+for we must be on the road by nine o'clock, so we can get through
+early in the night and have a good start with the swag. My plan is
+to ambush the whiskey shop, go and demand drinks soon after
+everybody is gone, and then proceed to business."
+
+"Can't we let my mate, Apache Jack, in with us? I'll stand for
+him."
+
+"No, no, I don't know anything about Apache Jack; and I can trust
+you. We can manage better alone, and I'd rather have one-half than
+one-third."
+
+"Trust me, kin you? you--fool," thought Bute. "So ye thinks I'll
+sit down and divide the plunder socially with you when I kin give
+yer a quiet dig in the ribs and take it all. One more man now
+won't matter. I'm a-goin' ter try fer enough ter-night ter take me
+well out of these parts."
+
+Bute's face was sinister enough to suggest any phase of evil, and
+Brandt well knew that he was capable of what he meditated. It was
+now the policy of both parties, however, to be very friendly, and
+Bute was still further mellowed by a draught of liquor from
+Brandt's flask.
+
+They had several games of cards in which it was managed that
+Bute's winnings should be the larger; and at nine in the evening
+they started on what was to Bute another expedition of robbery and
+murder. Mr. Alford, who was on the alert, saw them depart with a
+deep sigh of relief. The night was cloudy, but the moon gave
+plenty of light for travelling. Brandt soon secured his horse, and
+then appeared to give full rein to his careless, reckless spirit.
+
+As they approached the stream, he remarked, "I say, Bute, it's too
+bad we can't use the pasteboards while on the jog; but I can win a
+five out of you by an old game of ours. I bet you I can empty my
+revolver quicker 'n you can."
+
+"We'd better save our amernition and make no noise."
+
+"Oh, pshaw! I always have better luck when I'm free and careless
+like. It's your sneaking fellers that always get caught. Besides,
+who'll notice? This little game is common enough all through the
+mountains, and everybody knows that there's no mischief in such
+kind of firing. I want to win back some of my money."
+
+"Well, then, take you up; go ahead."
+
+Instantly from Brandt's pistol there were six reports following
+one another so quickly that they could scarcely be distinguished.
+
+"Now beat that if you can!" cried Brandt, who had a second and
+concealed revolver ready for an emergency.
+
+"The fool!" thought Bute, "to put himself at the marcy of any man.
+I can pluck him to-night like a winged pa'tridge;" but he too
+fired almost as quickly as his companion.
+
+"You only used five ca'tridges in that little game, my friend,"
+said Brandt.
+
+"Nonsense! I fired so quick you couldn't count 'em."
+
+"Now see here, Bute," resumed Brandt, in an aggrieved tone,
+"you've got to play fair with me. I've cut my eye-teeth since you
+used to fleece me, and I'll swear you fired only five shots. Let's
+load and try again."
+
+"What the use of sich ---- nonsense? You'll swar that you fired the
+quickest; and of course I'll swar the same, and there's nobody
+here ter jedge. What's more, Ralph Brandt, I wants you and every
+man ter know that I always keeps a shot in reserve, and that I
+never misses. So let's load and jog on, and stop foolin'."
+
+"That scheme has failed," thought Brandt, as he replaced the
+shells with cartridges.
+
+His purpose was to find a moment when his companion was completely
+in his power, and it came sooner than he expected. When they drew
+near the brook, it was evident that Bute's pony was thirsty, for
+it suddenly darted forward and thrust its nose into the water.
+Therefore, for an instant, Bute was in advance with his back
+toward the detective. Covering the fellow with his revolver,
+Brandt shouted:
+
+"Bute, throw up your hands; surrender, or you are a dead man!"
+
+Instantly the truth flashed through the outlaw's mind. Instead of
+complying, he threw himself forward over the pony's neck and urged
+the animal forward. Brandt fired, and Bute fell with a splash into
+the water. At that moment three miners, returning from the tavern,
+came shouting to the opposite side of the stream. The frightened
+pony, relieved of its burden, galloped homeward. Brandt also
+withdrew rapidly toward the mine for some distance, and then rode
+into the woods. Having tied his horse well back from the highway,
+he reconnoitred the party that had so inopportunely interfered
+with his plans. He discovered that they were carrying Bute, who,
+from his groans and oaths, was evidently not dead, though he might
+be mortally wounded. His rescuers were breathing out curses and
+threats of vengeance against Brandt, now known to be an officer of
+the law.
+
+"The job has become a little complicated now," muttered Brandt,
+after they had passed; "and I must throw them off the scent. There
+will be a dozen out after me soon."
+
+He remounted his horse, stole silently down the road, crossed the
+stream, and then galloped to the tavern, and calling out the
+keeper, asked if there was any shorter road out of the mountains
+than the one leading to the west. Being answered in the negative,
+he rode hastily away. On reaching the place where he had struck
+this road the previous day, he entered the woods, followed the
+rugged trail that he had marked by bits of paper, and slowly
+approached the mine road again near the point where the stream
+crossed it. He then reconnoitred and learned that there was
+evidently a large party exploring the woods between the stream and
+the mine.
+
+At last they all gathered at the ford for consultation, and Brandt
+heard one say:
+
+"We're wastin' time beatin' round here. He'd naterly put fer the
+lowlands as soon as he found he was balked in takin' his man. I
+move we call on Whiskey Bob, and see if a man's rode that way ter-
+night."
+
+A call on Whiskey Bob was apparently always acceptable; and the
+party soon disappeared down the road--some on horses and more on
+foot. Brandt then quietly crossed the road and gained his retreat
+on the mountain-side.
+
+"I must camp here now till the fellow dies, and I can prove it, or
+until I can get another chance," was his conclusion as he rubbed
+down and fed his horse.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+TAKEN ALIVE
+
+
+After taking some refreshment himself, Brandt decided to go to the
+thicket opposite the superintendent's house for a little
+observation. He soon reached this outlook, and saw that something
+unusual was occurring in the cottage. At last the door opened, and
+Bute was assisted to his shanty by two men. They had scarcely
+disappeared before Brandt darted across the road and knocked for
+admittance.
+
+"Great Scott! you here?" exclaimed Mr. Alford.
+
+"Yes, and here I'm going to stay till I take my man," replied the
+detective, with a laugh. "Don't be alarmed. I shall not remain in
+your house, but in the neighborhood."
+
+"You are trifling with your life, and, I may add, with mine."
+
+"Not at all. Come up to your bedroom. First draw the curtains
+close, and we'll compare notes. I won't stay but a few moments."
+
+Mr. Alford felt that it was best to comply, for some one might
+come and find them talking in the hall. When Brandt entered the
+apartment, he threw himself into a chair and laughed in his low
+careless style as he said, "Well, I almost bagged my game to-
+night, and would have done so had not three of your men, returning
+from the tavern, interfered."
+
+"There's a party out looking for you now."
+
+"I know it; but I've put them on the wrong trail. What I want to
+learn is, will Bute live?"
+
+"Yes; your shot made a long flesh-wound just above his shoulders.
+A little closer, and it would have cut his vertebrae and finished
+him. He has lost a good deal of blood, and could not be moved for
+some days except at some risk."
+
+"You are sure of that?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, he may have to incur the risk. I only wish to be certain
+that he will not take it on his own act at once. You'll soon miss
+him in any event."
+
+"The sooner the better. I wish your aim had been surer."
+
+"That wasn't my good luck. Next time I'll have to shoot closer or
+else take him alive."
+
+"But you can't stay in this region. They will all be on the alert
+now."
+
+"Oh, no. The impression will be general to-morrow that I've made
+for the lowlands as fast as my horse could carry me. Don't you
+worry. Till I move again, I'm safe enough. All I ask of you now is
+to keep Bute in his own shanty, and not to let him have more than
+one man to take care of him if possible. Good-night. You may not
+see me again, and then again you may."
+
+"Well, now that you are here," said the superintendent, who was
+naturally brave enough, "spend an hour or two, or else stay till
+just before daylight. I confess I am becoming intensely interested
+in your adventure, and would take a hand in it if I could; but you
+know well enough that if I did, and it became known, I would have
+to find business elsewhere very suddenly--that is, if given the
+chance."
+
+"I only wish your passive co-operation. I should be glad, however,
+if you would let me take a horse, if I must."
+
+"Certainly, as long as you leave my black mare."
+
+Brandt related what had occurred, giving a comical aspect to
+everything, and then, after reconnoitring the road from a darkened
+window, regained his cover in safety. He declined to speak of his
+future plans or to give any clew to his hiding-place, to which he
+now returned.
+
+During the few remaining hours of darkness and most of the next
+day, he slept and lounged about his fire. The next night was too
+bright and clear for anything beyond a reconnoissance, and he saw
+evidences of an alertness which made him very cautious. He did not
+seek another interview with Mr. Alford, for now nothing was to be
+gained by it.
+
+The next day proved cloudy, and with night began a violent storm
+of wind and rain. Brandt cowered over his fire till nine o'clock,
+and then taking a slight draught from his flask, chuckled, "This
+is glorious weather for my work. Here's to Clara's luck this
+time!"
+
+In little over an hour he started for the mine, near which he
+concealed his horse. Stealing about in the deep shadows, he soon
+satisfied himself that no one was on the watch, and then
+approaching the rear of Bute's shanty, found to his joy that the
+pony was in the shed. A chink in the board siding enabled him to
+look into the room which contained his prey; he started as he saw
+Apache Jack, instantly recognizing in him another criminal for
+whom a large reward was offered.
+
+"Better luck than I dreamed of," he thought. "I shall take them
+both; but I now shall have to borrow a horse of Alford;" and he
+glided away, secured an animal from the stable, and tied it near
+his own. In a short time he was back at his post of observation.
+It had now become evident that no one even imagined that there was
+danger while such a storm was raging. The howling wind would drown
+all ordinary noises; and Brandt determined that the two men in the
+shanty should be on their way to jail that night. When he again
+put his eye to the chink in the wall, Bute was saying:
+
+"Well, no one will start fer the mountings while this storm lasts,
+but, wound or no wound, I must get out of this as soon as it's
+over. There's no safety fer me here now."
+
+"Ef they comes fer you, like enough they'll take me," replied
+Apache Jack, who, now that he was alone with his confederate,
+could speak his style of English fast enough. His character of
+half-breed was a disguise which his dark complexion had suggested.
+"Ter-morrer night, ef it's clar, we'll put out fer the easterd. I
+know of a shanty in the woods not so very fur from here in which
+we kin put up till yer's able ter travel furder. Come, now, take a
+swig of whiskey with me and then we'll sleep; there's no need of
+our watchin' any longer on a night like this. I'll jest step out
+an' see ef the pony's safe; sich a storm's 'nuff ter scare him off
+ter the woods."
+
+"Well, jest lay my shooter on the cha'r here aside me 'fore you
+go. I feel safer with the little bull-dog in reach."
+
+This the man did, then putting his own revolver on the table, that
+it might not get wet, began to unbar the door. Swift as a shadow
+Brandt glided out of the shed and around on the opposite side of
+the shanty.
+
+An instant later Bute was paralyzed by seeing his enemy enter the
+open door. Before the outlaw could realize that Brandt was not a
+feverish vision induced by his wound, the detective had captured
+both revolvers, and was standing behind the door awaiting Apache
+Jack's return.
+
+"Hist!" whispered Brandt, "not a sound, or you will both be dead
+in two minutes."
+
+Bute's nerves were so shattered that he could scarcely have
+spoken, even if he had been reckless enough to do so. He felt
+himself doomed; and when brutal natures like his succumb, they
+usually break utterly. Therefore, he could do no more than shiver
+with unspeakable dread as if he had an ague.
+
+Soon Apache Jack came rushing in out of the storm, to be instantly
+confronted by Brandt's revolver. The fellow glanced at the table,
+and seeing his own weapon was gone, instinctively half drew a long
+knife.
+
+"Put that knife on the table!" ordered Brandt, sternly. "Do you
+think I'd allow any such foolishness?"
+
+The man now realized his powerlessness, and obeyed; and Brandt
+secured this weapon also.
+
+"See here, Apache Jack, or whatever your name is, don't you run
+your head into a noose. You know I'm empowered to arrest Bute, and
+you don't know anything about the force I have at hand. All you've
+got to do is to obey me, an officer of the law, like a good
+citizen. If you don't, I'll shoot you; and that's all there is
+about it. Will you obey orders?"
+
+"I no understan'."
+
+"Stop lying! You understand English as well as I do, and I'll
+suspect YOU if you try that on again. Come, now! I've no time to
+lose. It's death or obedience!"
+
+"You can't blame a feller fer standin' by his mate," was the
+sullen yet deprecatory reply.
+
+"I can blame any man, and arrest or shoot him too, who obstructs
+the law. You must obey me for the next half-hour, to prove that
+you are not Bute's accomplice."
+
+"He's only my mate, and our rule is ter stand by each other; but,
+as you say, I can't help myself, and there's no use of my goin'
+ter jail."
+
+"I should think not," added Brandt, appealing to the fellow's
+selfish hope of escaping further trouble if Bute was taken. "Now
+get my prisoner out of bed and dress him as soon as possible."
+
+"But he ain't able ter be moved. The superintendent said he
+wasn't."
+
+"That's my business, not yours. Do as I bid you."
+
+"Why don't yer yell fer help?" said Bute, in a hoarse whisper.
+
+"Because he knows I'd shoot him if he did," remarked Brandt,
+coolly.
+
+"Come, old man," said Jack, "luck's agin yer. Ef there's any
+hollerin' ter be done, yer's as able ter do that as I be."
+
+"Quick, quick! jerk him out of bed and get him into his clothes. I
+won't permit one false move."
+
+Jack now believed that his only means of safety was to be as
+expeditious as possible, and that if Bute was taken safely he
+would be left unmolested. People of their class rarely keep faith
+with one another when it is wholly against their interests to do
+so. Therefore, in spite of the wounded man's groans, he was
+quickly dressed and his hands tied behind him. As he opened his
+mouth to give expression to his protests, he found himself
+suddenly gagged by Brandt, who stood behind him. Then a strap was
+buckled about his feet, and he lay on the floor helpless and
+incapable of making a sound.
+
+"Now, Jack," said Brandt, "go before me and bridle and saddle the
+pony; then bring him to the door."
+
+Jack obeyed.
+
+"Now put Bute upon him. I'll hold his head; but remember I'm
+covering you with a dead bead all the time."
+
+"No need of that. I'm civil enough now."
+
+"Well, you know we're sort of strangers, and it's no more than
+prudent for me to be on the safe side till we part company. That's
+right, strap his feet underneath. Now lead the pony in such
+directions as I say. Don't try to make off till I'm through with
+you, or you'll be shot instantly. I shall keep within a yard of
+you all the time."
+
+They were not long in reaching the horse that Brandt had borrowed,
+and Jack said, "I s'pose I kin go now."
+
+"First untie Bute's hands so he can guide the pony."
+
+As the fellow attempted to do this, and his two hands were close
+together, Brandt slipped a pair of light steel handcuffs over his
+wrists, and the man was in his power. Almost before the new
+prisoner could recover from his surprise, he was lifted on the
+borrowed horse, and his legs also tied underneath.
+
+"This ain't fa'r. You promised ter let me go when you got Bute
+off."
+
+"I haven't got him off yet. Of course I can't let you go right
+back and bring a dozen men after us. You must be reasonable."
+
+The fellow yelled for help; but the wind swept the sound away.
+
+"If you do that again, I'll gag you too," said Brandt. "I tell you
+both once more, and I won't repeat the caution, that your lives
+depend on obedience." Then he mounted, and added, "Bute, I'm going
+to untie your hands, and you must ride on ahead of me. I'll lead
+Jack's horse."
+
+In a moment he had his prisoners in the road, and was leaving the
+mine at a sharp pace. Bute was so cowed and dazed with terror that
+he obeyed mechanically. The stream was no longer a shallow brook,
+but a raging torrent which almost swept them away as Brandt urged
+them relentlessly through it. The tavern was dark and silent as
+they passed quickly by it. Then Brandt took the gag from Bute's
+mouth, and he groaned, cursed, and pleaded by turns. Hour after
+hour he urged them forward, until at last Bute gave out and fell
+forward on the pony's neck. Brandt dismounted and gave the
+exhausted man a draught from his flask.
+
+"Oh, shoot me and have done with it!" groaned Bute; "I'd rather be
+shot than hanged anyhow."
+
+"Couldn't think of it," replied the detective, cheerily. "My rule
+is to take prisoners alive, so that they can have a fair trial and
+be sure that they get justice. I'd take you the rest of the way in
+a bed if I could, but if you can't sit up, I'll have to tie you
+on. We'll reach a friend of mine by daylight, and then you can
+ride in a wagon, so brace up."
+
+This the outlaw did for a time, and then he gave out utterly and
+was tied more securely to the pony. Out of compassion, Brandt
+thereafter travelled more slowly; and when the sun was an hour
+high, he led his forlorn captives to the house of a man whom he
+knew could be depended upon for assistance. After a rest
+sufficient to give Bute time to recover somewhat, the remainder of
+the journey was made without any incident worth mentioning, and
+the prisoners were securely lodged in jail on the evening of the
+24th of December.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+WHAT BRANDT SAW CHRISTMAS EVE
+
+
+Brandt's words and effort had had their natural effect on the mind
+of Clara Heyward. They proved an increasing diversion of her
+thoughts, and slowly dispelled the morbid, leaden grief under
+which she had been sinking. Her new anxiety in regard to her
+lover's fortune and possible fate was a healthful counter-
+irritant. Half consciously she yielded to the influence of his
+strong, hopeful spirit, and almost before she was aware of it, she
+too began to hope. Chief of all, his manly tenderness and
+unbargaining love stole into her heart like a subtle balm; and
+responsive love, the most potent of remedies, was renewing her
+life. She found herself counting the days and then the hours that
+must intervene before the 25th. On Christmas eve her woman's
+nature triumphed, and she instinctively added such little graces
+to her toilet as her sombre costume permitted. She also arranged
+her beautiful hair in the style which she knew he admired. He
+might come; and she determined that his first glance should reveal
+that he was not serving one who was coldly apathetic to his brave
+endeavor and loyalty.
+
+Indeed, even she herself wondered at the changes that had taken
+place during the brief time which had elapsed since their parting.
+There was a new light in her eyes, and a delicate bloom tinged her
+cheeks.
+
+"Oh," she murmured, "it's all so different now that I feel that I
+can live for him and make him happy."
+
+She was sure that she could welcome him in a way that would assure
+him of the fulfilment of all his hopes; but when he did come with
+his eager, questioning eyes, she suddenly found herself under a
+strange restraint, tongue-tied and embarrassed. She longed to put
+her arms about his neck and tell him all--the new life, the new
+hope which his look of deep affection had kindled; and in effort
+for self-control, she seemed to him almost cold. He therefore
+became perplexed and uncertain of his ground, and took refuge in
+the details of his expedition, meanwhile mentally assuring himself
+that he must keep his word and put no constraint on the girl
+contrary to the dictates of her heart.
+
+As his mind grew clearer, his keen observation began to reveal
+hopeful indications. She was listening intently with approval, and
+something more in her expression, he dared to fancy. Suddenly he
+exclaimed, "How changed you are for the better, Clara! You are
+lovelier to-night than ever you were. What is it in your face that
+is so sweet and bewildering? You were a pretty girl before; now
+you are a beautiful woman."
+
+The color came swiftly at his words, and she faltered as she
+averted her eyes, "Please go on with your story, Ralph. You have
+scarcely begun yet. I fear you were in danger."
+
+He came and stood beside her. "Clara," he pleaded, "look at me."
+
+Hesitatingly she raised her eyes to his.
+
+"Shall I tell you what I hope I see?"
+
+The faintest suggestion of a smile hovered about her trembling
+lips.
+
+"I hope I see what you surely see in mine. Come, Clara, you shall
+choose before you hear my story. Am I to be your husband or
+friend? for I've vowed that you shall not be without a loyal
+protector."
+
+"Ralph, Ralph," she cried, springing up and hiding her face on his
+shoulder, "I have no choice at all. You know how I loved papa; but
+I've learned that there's another and different kind of love. I
+didn't half understand you when you first spoke; now I do. You
+will always see in my eyes what you've seen to-night."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+FOUND YET LOST
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+LOVE IN THE WILDERNESS
+
+
+Hopeless indeed must that region be which May cannot clothe with
+some degree of beauty and embroider with flowers. On the 5th day
+of the month the early dawn revealed much that would charm the
+eyes of all true lovers of nature even in that section of Virginia
+whose characteristics so grimly correspond with its name--The
+Wilderness. The low pines and cedars, which abound everywhere, had
+taken a fresh green; the deciduous trees, the tangled thickets,
+impenetrable in many places by horse or man, were putting forth a
+new, tender foliage, tinted with a delicate semblance of autumn
+hues. Flowers bloomed everywhere, humbly in the grass close to the
+soil as well as on the flaunting sprays of shrubbery and vines,
+filling the air with fragrance as the light touched and expanded
+the petals. Wood-thrushes and other birds sang as melodiously and
+contentedly as if they had selected some breezy upland forest for
+their nesting-place instead of a region which has become a synonym
+for gloom, horror, and death.
+
+Lonely and uninhabited in its normal condition, this forbidding
+wilderness had become peopled with thousands of men. The Army of
+the Potomac was penetrating and seeking to pass through it.
+Vigilant General Lee had observed the movement, and with
+characteristic boldness and skill ordered his troops from their
+strong intrenchments on Mine Run toward the Union flank. On this
+memorable morning the van of his columns wakened from their brief
+repose but a short distance from the Federal bivouac. Both parties
+were unconscious of their nearness, for with the exception of a
+few clearings the dense growth restricted vision to a narrow
+range. The Union forces were directed in their movements by the
+compass, as if they were sailors on a fog-enshrouded sea; but they
+well knew that they were seeking their old antagonist, the Army of
+Northern Virginia, and that the stubborn tug-of-war might begin at
+any moment.
+
+When Captain Nichol shook off the lethargy of a brief troubled
+sleep, he found that the light did not banish his gloomy
+impressions. Those immediately around him were still slumbering,
+wrapped in their blankets. Few sounds other than the voices of the
+awakening birds broke the silence. After a little thought he drew
+his notebook from his pocket and wrote as follows:
+
+"MY DARLING HELEN--I obey an impulse to write to you this morning.
+It is scarcely light enough to see as yet; but very soon we shall
+be on the move again to meet--we known not what, certainly heavy,
+desperate fighting. I do not know why I am so sad. I have faced
+the prospect of battles many times before, and have passed through
+them unharmed, but now I am depressed by an unusual foreboding.
+Naturally my thoughts turn to you. There was no formal engagement
+between us when I said those words (so hard to speak) of farewell,
+nor have I sought to bind you since. Every month has made more
+clear the uncertainty of life in my calling; and I felt that I had
+no right to lay upon you any restraint other than that of your own
+feelings. If the worst happened you would be free as far as I was
+concerned, and few would know that we had told each other of our
+love. I wish to tell you of mine once more--not for the last time,
+I hope, but I don't know. I do love you with my whole heart and
+soul; and if I am to die in this horrible wilderness, where so
+many of my comrades died a year ago, my last thoughts will be of
+you and of the love of God, which your love has made more real to
+me. I love you too well to wish my death, should it occur, to
+spoil your young life. I do not ask you to forget me--that would
+be worse than death, but I ask you to try to be happy and to make
+others happy as the years pass on. This bloody war will come to an
+end, will become a memory, and those who perish hope to be
+remembered; but I do not wish my memory to hang like a cloud over
+the happy days of peace. I close, my darling, in hope, not fear--
+hope for you, hope for me, whatever may happen to-day or on coming
+days of strife. It only remains for me to do my duty. I trust that
+you will also do yours, which may be even harder. Do not give way
+to despairing grief if I cannot come back to you in this world.
+Let your faith in God and hope of a future life inspire and
+strengthen you in your battles, which may require more courage and
+unselfishness than mine.
+
+"Yours, either in life or death, ALBERT NICHOL."
+
+He made another copy of this letter, put both in envelopes, and
+addressed them, then sought two men of his company who came from
+his native village. They were awake now and boiling their coffee.
+The officer and the privates had grown up as boys together with
+little difference of social standing in the democratic town. When
+off duty, there still existed much of the old familiarity and
+friendly converse, but when Captain Nichol gave an order, his
+townsmen immediately became conscious that they were separated
+from him by the iron wall of military discipline. This
+characteristic did not alienate his old associates. One of the men
+hit the truth fairly in saying: "When Cap speaks as Cap, he's as
+hard and sharp as a bayonet-point; but when a feller is sick and
+worn out 'tween times you'd think your granny was coddlin' yer."
+
+It was as friend and old neighbor that Nichol approached Sam and
+Jim Wetherby, two stalwart brothers who had enlisted in his
+company. "Boys," he said, "I have a favor to ask of you. The Lord
+only knows how the day will end for any of us. We will take our
+chances and do our duty, as usual. I hope we may all boil coffee
+again to-night; but who knows? Here are two letters. If I should
+fall, and either or both of you come out all right, as I trust you
+will, please forward them. If I am with you again to-night, return
+them to me."
+
+"Come, Captain," said Jim, heartily, "the bullet isn't molded that
+can harm you. You'll lead us into Richmond yet."
+
+"It will not be from lack of goodwill if I don't. I like your
+spirit; and I believe the army will get there this time whether
+I'm with it or not. Do as I ask. There is no harm in providing
+against what may happen. Make your breakfast quickly, for orders
+may come at any moment;" and he strode away to look after the
+general readiness of his men.
+
+The two brothers compared the address on the letters and laughed a
+little grimly. "Cap is a-providing, sure enough," Sam Wetherby
+remarked. "They are both written to the pretty Helen Kemble that
+he used to make eyes at in the singing-school. I guess he thinks
+that you might stop a bullet as well as himself, Jim."
+
+"It's clear he thinks your chances for taking in lead are just as
+good," replied Jim. "But come, I'm one of them fellows that's
+never hit till I am hit. One thing at a time, and now it's
+breakfast."
+
+"Well, hanged if I want to charge under the lead of any other
+captain!" remarked Sam, meditatively sipping his coffee. "If that
+girl up yonder knows Cap's worth, she'll cry her eyes out if
+anything happens to him."
+
+A few moments later the birds fled to the closest cover, startled
+by the innumerable bugles sounding the note of preparation. Soon
+the different corps, divisions, and brigades were upon their
+prescribed lines of march. No movement could be made without
+revealing the close proximity of the enemy. Rifle-reports from
+skirmish lines and reconnoitring parties speedily followed. A
+Confederate force was developed on the turnpike leading southwest
+from the old Wilderness Tavern; and the fighting began. At about
+eight o'clock Grant and Meade came up and made their headquarters
+beneath some pine-trees near the tavern. General Grant could
+scarcely believe at first that Lee had left his strong
+intrenchments to give battle in a region little better than a
+jungle; but he soon had ample and awful proof of the fact.
+Practically unseen by each other, the two armies grappled like
+giants in the dark. So thick were the trees and undergrowth that a
+soldier on a battle line could rarely see a thousand men on either
+side of him, yet nearly two hundred thousand men matched their
+deadly strength that day. Hundreds fell, died, and were hidden
+forever from human eyes.
+
+Thinking to sweep away the rear-guard of Lee's retreating army,
+Grant ordered a strong advance on the pike in the afternoon. At
+first it was eminently successful, and if it had been followed up
+vigorously and steadily, as it undoubtedly would have been if the
+commander had known what was afterward revealed, it might have
+resulted in severe disaster to the Confederates. The enemy was
+pressed back rapidly; and the advancing Union forces were filled
+with enthusiasm. Before this early success culminated, genuine
+sorrow saddened every one in Captain Nichol's company. With his
+face toward the enemy, impetuously leading his men, he suddenly
+dropped his sword and fell senseless. Sam and Jim Wetherby heard a
+shell shrieking toward them, and saw it explode directly over
+their beloved leader. They rushed to his side; blood was pouring
+over his face, and it also seemed to them that a fragment of the
+shell had fatally wounded him in the forehead.
+
+"Poor Cap, poor, brave Cap!" ejaculated Sam. "He didn't give us
+those letters for nothing."
+
+"A bad job, an awfully bad job for us all! curse the eyes that
+aimed that shell!" growled practical Jim. "Here, take hold. We'll
+put him in that little dry ditch we just passed, and bury him
+after the fight, if still on our pins. We can't leave him here to
+be tramped on."
+
+This they did, then hastily rejoined their company, which had
+swept on with the battle line. Alas! that battle line and others
+also were driven back with terrible slaughter before the day
+closed. Captain Nichol was left in the ditch where he had been
+placed, and poor Sam Wetherby lay on his back, staring with eyes
+that saw not at a shattered bird's nest in the bushes above his
+head. The letter in his pocket mouldered with him.
+
+Jim's begrimed and impassive face disguised an aching heart as he
+boiled his coffee alone that night. Then, although wearied almost
+to exhaustion, he gave himself no rest until he had found what
+promised to be the safest means of forwarding the letter in his
+pocket.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+LOVE AT HOME
+
+
+Long years before the war, happy children were growing in the
+village of Alton. They studied the history of wars much as they
+conned their lessons in geography. Scenes of strife belonged to
+the past, or were enacted among people wholly unlike any who dwelt
+in their peaceful community. That Americans should ever fight each
+other was as undreamed of as that the minister should have a
+pitched battle in the street with his Sunday-school
+superintendent. They rejoiced mildly when in their progress
+through the United States history they came to pages descriptive
+of Indian wars and the Revolutionary struggle, since they found
+their lessons then more easily remembered than the wordy disputes
+and little understood decisions of statesmen. The first skating on
+the pond was an event which far transcended in importance anything
+related between the green covers of the old history book, while to
+Albert Nichol the privilege of strapping skates on the feet of
+little Helen Kemble, and gliding away with her over the smooth
+ice, was a triumph unknown by any general. He was the son of a
+plain farmer, and she the daughter of the village banker. Thus,
+even in childhood, there was thrown around her the glamour of
+position and reputed wealth--advantages which have their value
+among the most democratic folk, although slight outward deference
+may be paid to their possessors. It was the charming little face
+itself, with its piquant smiles and still more piquant pouts,
+which won Albert's boyish admiration. The fact that she was the
+banker's daughter only fired his ambition to be and to do
+something to make her proud of him.
+
+Hobart Martine, another boy of the village, shared all his
+schoolmate's admiration for pretty Nellie, as she was usually
+called. He had been lame from birth, and could not skate. He could
+only shiver on the bank or stamp around to keep himself warm,
+while the athletic Al and the graceful little girl passed and
+repassed, quite forgetting him. There was one thing he could do;
+and this pleasure he waited for till often numb with cold. He
+could draw the child on his sled to her home, which adjoined his
+own.
+
+When it came his turn to do this, and he limped patiently through
+the snow, tugging at the rope, his heart grew warm as well as his
+chilled body. She was a rather imperious little belle with the
+other boys, but was usually gentle with him because he was lame
+and quiet. When she thanked him kindly and pleasantly at her gate,
+he was so happy that he could scarcely eat his supper. Then his
+mother would laugh and say, "You've been with your little
+sweetheart." He would flush and make no reply.
+
+How little did those children dream of war, even when studying
+their history lessons! Yet Albert Nichol now lay in the Wilderness
+jungle. He had done much to make his little playmate proud of him.
+The sturdy boy developed into a manly man. When he responded to
+his country's call and raised a company among his old friends and
+neighbors, Helen Kemble exulted over him tearfully. She gave him
+the highest tribute within her power and dearest possession--her
+heart. She made every campaign with him, following him with love's
+untiring solicitude through the scenes he described, until at last
+the morning paper turned the morning sunshine into mockery and the
+songs of the birds into dirges. Captain Nichol's name was on the
+list of the killed.
+
+With something of the same jealousy, developed and intensified,
+which he had experienced while watching Albert glide away on the
+ice with the child adored in a dumb, boyish way, Hobart had seen
+his old schoolmate depart for the front. Then his rival took the
+girl from him; now he took her heart. Martine's lameness kept him
+from being a soldier. He again virtually stood chilled on the
+bank, with a cold, dreary, hopeless feeling which he believed
+would benumb his life. He did not know, he was not sure that he
+had lost Helen beyond hope, until those lurid days when men on
+both sides were arming and drilling for mutual slaughter. She was
+always so kind to him, and her tones so gentle when she spoke,
+that in love's fond blindness he had dared to hope. He eventually
+learned that she was only sorry for him. He did not, could not,
+blame her, for he needed but to glance at Nichol's stalwart form,
+and recall the young soldier's record, in order to know that it
+would be strange indeed if the girl had chosen otherwise. He would
+have been more than human if there had not been some bitterness in
+his heart; but he fought it down honestly, and while pursuing his
+peaceful avocations engaged in what he believed would be a
+lifelong battle. He smiled at the girl across the garden fence and
+called out his cheery "Good-morning." He was her frequent
+companion by the fireside or on the piazza, according to the
+season; and he alone of the young men was welcome, for she had
+little sympathy for those who remained at home without his excuse.
+He was so bravely her friend, keeping his great love so sternly
+repressed that she only felt it like a genial warmth in his tones
+and manner, and believed that he was becoming in truth what he
+seemed, merely a friend.
+
+On that terrible May morning he was out in the garden and heard
+her wild, despairing cry as she read the fatal words. He knew that
+a heavy battle had been begun, and was going down to the gate for
+his paper, which the newsboy had just left. There was no need of
+opening it, for the bitter cry he had heard made known to him the
+one item of intelligence compared with which all else for the time
+became insignificant. Was it the Devil that inspired a great throb
+of hope in his heart? At any rate he thought it was, and ground
+his heel into the gravel as if the serpent's head was beneath it,
+then limped to Mr. Kemble's door.
+
+The old banker came out to meet him, shaking his gray head and
+holding the paper in his trembling hand. "Ah!" he groaned, "I've
+feared it, I've feared it all along, but hoped that it would not
+be. You've seen Nichol's name--" but he could not finish the
+sentence.
+
+"No, I have seen nothing; I only heard Helen's cry. That told the
+whole story."
+
+"Yes. Well, her mother's with her. Poor girl! poor girl! God grant
+it isn't her death-blow too. She has suffered too much under this
+long strain of anxiety."
+
+A generous resolve was forming in Martine's mind, and he said
+earnestly, "We must tide her through this terrible shock. There
+may be some mistake; he may be only wounded. Do not let her give
+up hope absolutely. I'll drop everything and go to the battlefield
+at once. If the worst has in truth happened, I can bring home his
+remains, and that would be a comfort to her. A newspaper report,
+made up hastily in the field, is not final. Let this hope break
+the cruel force of the blow, for it is hard to live without hope."
+
+"Well, Hobart, you ARE a true friend. God bless and reward you! If
+nothing comes of it for poor Nichol, as I fear nothing will, your
+journey and effort will give a faint hope to Nellie, and, as you
+say, break the force of the blow. I'll go and tell her."
+
+Martine went into the parlor, which Helen had decorated with
+mementoes of her soldier lover. He was alone but a few moments
+before he heard hasty steps. Helen entered with hot, tearless eyes
+and an agonized, imploring expression.
+
+"What!" she cried, "is it true that you'll go?"
+
+"Yes, Helen, immediately. I do not think there's reason for
+despair."
+
+"Oh, God bless you! friend, friend! I never knew what the word
+meant before. Oh, Hobart, no sister ever lavished love on a
+brother as I will love you if you bring back my Albert;" and in
+the impulse of her overwhelming gratitude she buried her face on
+his shoulder and sobbed aloud. Hope already brought the relief of
+tears.
+
+He stroked the bowed head gently, saying, "God is my witness,
+Helen, that I will spare no pains and shrink from no danger in
+trying to find Captain Nichol. I have known of many instances
+where the first reports of battles proved incorrect;" and he led
+her to a chair.
+
+"It is asking so much of you," she faltered.
+
+"You have asked nothing, Helen. I have offered to go, and I AM
+going. It is a little thing for me to do. You know that my
+lameness only kept me from joining Captain Nichol's company. Now
+try to control your natural feelings like a brave girl, while I
+explain my plans as far as I have formed them."
+
+"Yes, yes! Wait a few moments. Oh, this pain at my heart! I think
+it would have broken if you hadn't come. I couldn't breathe; I
+just felt as if sinking under a weight."
+
+"Take courage, Helen. Remember Albert is a soldier."
+
+"IS, IS! Oh, thanks for that little word! You do not believe that
+he is gone and lost to me?"
+
+"I cannot believe it yet. We will not believe it. Now listen
+patiently, for you will have your part to do."
+
+"Yes, yes; if I could only do something! That would help me so
+much. Oh, if I could only go with you!"
+
+"That would not be best or wise, and might defeat my efforts. I
+must be free to go where you could not--to visit places unsafe for
+you. My first step must be to get letters to our State Senator.
+Your father can write one, and I'll get one or two others. The
+Senator will give me a letter to the Governor, who in turn will
+accredit me to the authorities at Washington and the officer in
+command on the battlefield. You know I shall need passes. Those
+who go to the extreme front must be able to account for
+themselves. I will keep in telegraphic communication with you, and
+you may receive additional tidings which will aid me in my search.
+Mr. Kemble!" he concluded, calling her father from his perturbed
+pacing up and down the hall.
+
+"Ah!" said the banker, entering, "this is a hundred-fold better
+than despairing, useless grief. I've heard the gist of what Hobart
+has said, and approve it. Now I'll call mother, so that we may all
+take courage and get a good grip on hope."
+
+They consulted together briefly, and in the prospect of action,
+Helen was carried through the first dangerous crisis in her
+experience.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+"DISABLED"
+
+
+Mrs. Martine grieved over her son's unexpected resolve. In her
+estimation he was engaging in a very dangerous and doubtful
+expedition. Probably mothers will never outgrow a certain jealousy
+when they find that another woman has become first in the hearts
+of their sons. The sense of robbery was especially strong in this
+case, for Mrs. Martine was a widow, and Hobart an only and
+idolized child.
+
+The mother speedily saw that it would be useless to remonstrate,
+and tearfully aided him in his preparations. Before he departed,
+he won her over as an ally. "These times, mother, are bringing
+heavy burdens to very many, and we should help each other bear
+them. You know what Helen is to me, and must be always. That is
+something which cannot be changed. My love has grown with my
+growth and become inseparable from my life. I have my times of
+weakness, but think I can truly say that I love her so well that I
+would rather make her happy at any cost to myself. If it is within
+my power, I shall certainly bring Nichol back, alive or dead.
+Prove your love to me, mother, by cheering, comforting, and
+sustaining that poor girl. I haven't as much hope of success as I
+tried to give her, but she needs hope now; she must have it, or
+there is no assurance against disastrous effects on her health and
+mind. I couldn't bear that."
+
+"Well, Hobart, if he is dead, she certainly ought to reward you
+some day."
+
+"We must not think of that. The future is not in our hands. We can
+only do what is duty now."
+
+Noble, generous purposes give their impress to that index of
+character, the human face. When Martine came to say good-by to
+Helen, she saw the quiet, patient cripple in a new light. He no
+longer secured her strong affection chiefly on the basis of
+gentle, womanly commiseration. He was proving the possession of
+those qualities which appeal strongly to the feminine nature; he
+was showing himself capable of prompt, courageous action, and his
+plain face, revealing the spirit which animated him, became that
+of a hero in her eyes. She divined the truth--the love so strong
+and unselfish that it would sacrifice itself utterly for her. He
+was seeking to bring back her lover when success in his mission
+would blot out all hope for him. The effect of his action was most
+salutary, rousing her from the inertia of grief and despair. "If a
+mere friend," she murmured, "can be so brave and self-forgetful, I
+have no excuse for giving away utterly."
+
+She revealed in some degree her new impressions in parting.
+"Hobart," she said, holding his hand in both of hers, "you have
+done much to help me. You have not only brought hope, but you have
+also shown a spirit which would shame me out of a selfish grief. I
+cannot now forget the claims of others, of my dear father and
+mother here, and I promise you that I will try to be brave like
+you, like Albert. I shall not become a weak, helpless burden, I
+shall not sit still and wring idle hands when others are
+heroically doing and suffering. Good-by, my friend, my brother.
+God help us all!"
+
+He felt that she understood him now as never before; and the
+knowledge inspired a more resolute purpose, if this were possible.
+That afternoon he was on his way. There came two or three days of
+terrible suspense for Helen, relieved only by telegrams from
+Martine as he passed from point to point. The poor girl struggled
+as a swimmer breasts pitiless waves intervening between him and
+the shore. She scarcely allowed herself an idle moment; but her
+effort was feverish and in a measure the result of excitement. The
+papers were searched for any scrap of intelligence, and the daily
+mail waited for until the hours and minutes were counted before
+its arrival.
+
+One morning her father placed Nichol's letter in her hands. They
+so trembled in the immense hope, the overwhelming emotion which
+swept over her at sight of the familiar handwriting, that at first
+she could not open it. When at last she read the prophetic
+message, she almost blotted out the writing with her tears,
+moaning, "He's dead, he's dead!" In her morbid, overwrought
+condition, the foreboding that had been in the mind of the writer
+was conveyed to hers; and she practically gave up hope for
+anything better than the discovery and return of his remains. Her
+father, mother, and intimate friends tried in vain to rally her;
+but the conviction remained that she had read her lover's farewell
+words. In spite of the most pathetic and strenuous effort, she
+could not keep up any longer, and sobbed till she slept in utter
+exhaustion.
+
+On the following day, old Mr. Wetherby came into the bank. The
+lines about his mouth were rigid with suppressed feeling. He
+handed Mr. Kemble a letter, saying in a husky voice, "Jim sent
+this. He says at the end I was to show it to you." The scrawl gave
+in brief the details about Captain Nichol already known to the
+reader, and stated also that Sam Wetherby was missing. "All I know
+is," wrote the soldier, "that we were driven back, and bullets
+flew like hail. The brush was so thick I couldn't see five yards
+either way when I lost sight of Sam."
+
+The colonel of the regiment also wrote to Captain Nichol's father,
+confirming Private Wetherby's letter. The village had been thrown
+into a ferment by the tidings of the battle and its disastrous
+consequences. There was bitter lamentation in many homes. Perhaps
+the names of Captain Nichol and Helen were oftenest repeated in
+the little community, for the fact of their mutual hopes was no
+longer a secret. Even thus early some sagacious people nodded
+their heads and remarked, "Hobart Martine may have his chance
+yet." Helen Kemble believed without the shadow of a doubt that all
+the heart she had for love had perished in the wilderness.
+
+The facts contained in Jim Wetherby's letter were telegraphed to
+Martine, and he was not long in discovering confirmation of them
+in the temporary hospitals near the battlefield. He found a man of
+Captain Nichol's company to whom Jim had related the
+circumstances. For days the loyal friend searched laboriously the
+horrible region of strife, often sickened nearly unto death by the
+scenes he witnessed, for his nature had not been rendered callous
+by familiarity with the results of war. Then instead of returning
+home, he employed the influence given by his letters and passes,
+backed by his own earnest pleading, to obtain permission for a
+visit to Nichol's regiment. He found it under fire; and long
+afterward Jim Wetherby was fond of relating how quietly the lame
+civilian listened to the shells shrieking over and exploding
+around him. Thus Martine learned all that could be gathered of
+Nichol's fate, and then, ill and exhausted, he turned his face
+northward. He felt that it would be a hopeless task to renew his
+search on the battlefield, much of which had been burned over. He
+also had the conviction it would be fatal to him to look upon its
+unspeakable horrors, and breathe again its pestilential air.
+
+He was a sick man when he arrived at home, but was able to relate
+modestly in outline the history of his efforts, softening and
+concealing much that he had witnessed. In the delirium of fever
+which followed, they learned more fully of what he had endured, of
+how he had forced himself to look upon things which, reproduced in
+his ravings, almost froze the blood of his watchers.
+
+Helen Kemble felt that her cup of bitterness had been filled anew,
+yet the distraction of a new grief, in which there was a certain
+remorseful self-reproach, had the effect of blunting the sharp
+edge of her first sorrow. In this new cause for dread she was
+compelled in some degree to forget herself. She saw the intense
+solicitude of her father and mother, who had been so readily
+accessory to Martine's expedition; she also saw that his mother's
+heart was almost breaking under the strain of anxiety. His
+incoherent words were not needed to reveal that his effort had
+been prompted by his love. She was one of his watchers, patiently
+enduring the expressions of regret which the mother in her sharp
+agony could not repress. Nichol's last letter was now known by
+heart, its every word felt to be prophetic. She had indeed been
+called upon to exercise courage and fortitude greater than he
+could manifest even in the Wilderness battle. Although she often
+faltered, she did not fail in carrying out his instructions. When
+at last Martine, a pallid convalescent, could sit in the shade on
+the piazza, she looked older by years, having, besides, the
+expression seen in the eyes of some women who have suffered much,
+and can still suffer much more. In the matter relating to their
+deepest consciousness, no words had passed between them. She felt
+as if she were a widow, and hoped he would understand. His full
+recognition of her position, and acceptance of the fact that she
+did and must mourn for her lover, his complete self-abnegation,
+brought her a sense of peace.
+
+The old clock on the landing of the stairway measured off the
+hours and days with monotonous regularity. Some of the hours and
+days had been immeasurably longer than the ancient timekeeper had
+indicated; but in accordance with usual human experiences, they
+began to grow shorter. Poignant sorrow cannot maintain its
+severity, or people could not live. Vines, grasses, and flowers
+covered the graves in Virginia; the little cares, duties, and
+amenities of life began to screen at times the sorrows that were
+nevertheless ever present.
+
+"Hobart," Helen said one day in the latter part of June, "do you
+think you will be strong enough to attend the commemorative
+services next week? You know they have been waiting for you."
+
+"Yes," he replied quietly; "'and they should not have delayed them
+so long. It is very sad that so many others have been added
+since--since--"
+
+"Well, you have not been told, for we have tried to keep every
+depressing and disquieting influence from you. Dr. Barnes said it
+was very necessary, because you had seen so much that you should
+try to forget. Ah, my friend, I can never forget what you suffered
+for me! Captain Nichol's funeral sermon was preached while you
+were so ill. I was not present--I could not be. I've been to see
+his mother often, and she understands me. I could not have
+controlled my grief, and I have a horror of displaying my most
+sacred feelings in public. Father and the people also wish you to
+be present at the general commemorative services, when our Senator
+will deliver a eulogy on those of our town who have fallen; but I
+don't think you should go if you feel that it will have a bad
+effect on you."
+
+"I shall be present, Helen. I suppose my mind has been weak like
+my body; but the time has come when I must take up life again and
+accept its conditions as others are doing. You certainly are
+setting me a good example. I admit that my illness has left a
+peculiar repugnance to hearing and thinking about the war; it all
+seemed so very horrible. But if our brave men can face the thing
+itself, I should be weak indeed if I could not listen to a eulogy
+of their deeds."
+
+"I am coming to think," resumed Helen, thoughtfully, "that the
+battle line extends from Maine to the Gulf, and that quiet people
+like you and me are upon it as truly as the soldiers in the field.
+I have thought that perhaps the most merciful wounds are often
+those which kill outright."
+
+"I can easily believe that," he said.
+
+His quiet tone and manner did not deceive her, and she looked at
+him wistfully as she resumed, "But if they do not kill, the pain
+must be borne patiently, even though we are in a measure
+disabled."
+
+"Yes, Helen; and you are disabled in your power to give me what I
+can never help giving you. I know that. I will not misjudge or
+presume upon your kindness. We are too good friends to affect any
+concealments from each other."
+
+"You have expressed my very thought. When you spoke of accepting
+the conditions of life, I hoped you had in mind what you have
+said--the conditions of life as they ARE, as we cannot help or
+change them. We both have got to take up life under new
+conditions."
+
+"You have; not I, Helen."
+
+Tears rushed to her eyes as she faltered, "I would be
+transparently false should I affect not to know. What I wish you
+to feel through the coming months and years is that I cannot--that
+I am disabled by my wound."
+
+"I understand, Helen. We can go on as we have begun. You have
+lost, as I have not, for I have never possessed. You will be the
+greater sufferer; and it will be my dear privilege to cheer and
+sustain you in such ways as are possible to a simple friend."
+
+She regarded him gratefully, and for the first time since that
+terrible May morning the semblance of a smile briefly illumined
+her face.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+MARTINE SEEKS AN ANTIDOTE
+
+
+It can readily be understood that Martine in his expedition to the
+South had not limited his efforts solely to his search for Captain
+Nichol. Wherever it had been within his power he had learned all
+that he could of other officers and men who had come from his
+native region; and his letters to their relatives had been in some
+instances sources of unspeakable comfort. In his visit to the
+front he had also seen and conversed with his fellow-townsmen,
+some of whom had since perished or had been wounded. As he grew
+stronger, Helen wrote out at his dictation all that he could
+remember concerning these interviews; and these accounts became
+precious heirlooms in many families.
+
+On the Fourth of July the commemorative oration was delivered by
+the Senator, who proved himself to be more than senator by his
+deep, honest feeling and good taste. The "spread eagle" element
+was conspicuously absent in his solemn, dignified, yet hopeful
+words. He gave to each their meed of praise. He grew eloquent over
+the enlisted men who had so bravely done their duty without the
+incentive of ambition. When he spoke of the honor reflected on the
+village by the heroism of Captain Nichol, the hearts of the people
+glowed with gratitude and pride; but thoughts of pity came to all
+as they remembered the girl, robed in black, who sat with bowed
+head among them.
+
+"I can best bring my words to a close," said the Senator, "by
+reading part of a letter written by one of your townsmen, a
+private in the ranks, yet expressive of feelings inseparable from
+our common human nature:
+
+"DEAR FATHER--You know I ain't much given to fine feelings or fine
+words. Poor Sam beat me all holler in such things; but I want you
+and all the folks in Alton to know that you've got a regular
+soldier at home. Of course we were all glad to see Bart Martine;
+and we expected to have a good-natured laugh at his expense when
+the shells began to fly. Soldiers laugh, as they eat, every chance
+they get, 'cause they remember it may be the last one. Well, we
+knew Bart didn't know any more about war than a chicken, and we
+expected to see him get very nervous and limp off to the rear on
+the double quick. He didn't scare worth a cent. When a shell
+screeched over our heads, he just waited till the dinged noise was
+out of our ears and then went on with his questions about poor Cap
+and Sam and the others from our town. We were supporting a
+battery, and most of us lying down. He sat there with us a good
+hour, telling about the folks at home, and how you were all
+following us with your thoughts and prayers, and how you all
+mourned with those who lost friends, and were looking after the
+children of the killed and wounded. Fact is, before we knew it we
+were all on our feet cheering for Alton and the folks at home and
+the little lame man, who was just as good a soldier as any of us.
+I tell you he heartened up the boys, what's left of us. I'm sorry
+to hear he's so sick. If he should die, bury him with a soldier's
+honors. JAMES WETHERBY."
+
+"These plain, simple, unadorned words," concluded the Senator,
+"need no comment. Their force and significance cannot be enhanced
+by anything I can say. I do not know that I could listen quietly
+to shrieking and exploding shells while I spoke words of courage
+and good cheer; but I do know that I wish to be among the foremost
+to honor your modest, unassuming townsman, who could do all this
+and more."
+
+Martine was visibly distressed by this unexpected feature in the
+oration and the plaudits which followed. He was too sad, too weak
+in body and mind, and too fresh from the ghastly battlefield, not
+to shrink in sensitive pain from personal and public commendation.
+He evaded his neighbors as far as possible and limped hastily
+away.
+
+He did not see Helen again till the following morning, for her
+wound had been opened afresh, and she spent the remainder of the
+day and evening in the solitude of her room. Martine was troubled
+at this, and thought she felt as he did.
+
+In the morning she joined him on the piazza. She was pale from her
+long sad vigil, but renewed strength and a gentle patience were
+expressed in her thin face.
+
+"It's too bad, Helen," he broke out in unwonted irritation. "I
+wouldn't have gone if I had known. It was a miserable letting down
+of all that had gone before--that reference to me."
+
+Now she smiled brightly as she said, "You are the only one present
+who thought so. Has this been worrying you?"
+
+"Yes, it has. If the speaker had seen what I saw, he would have
+known better. His words only wounded me."
+
+"He judged you by other men, Hobart. His words would not have
+wounded very many. I'm glad I heard that letter--that I have
+learned what I never could from you. I'm very proud of my friend.
+What silly creatures women are, anyway! They want their friends to
+be brave, yet dread the consequences of their being so beyond
+words."
+
+"Well," said Martine, a little grimly, "I'm going to my office to-
+morrow. I feel the need of a long course of reading in
+Blackstone."
+
+"You must help keep me busy also," was her reply.
+
+"I've thought about that; yes, a great deal. You need some
+wholesome, natural interest that is capable of becoming somewhat
+absorbing. Is it strange that I should recommend one phase of my
+hobby, flowers? You know that every tree, shrub, and plant on our
+little place is a sort of a pet with me. You are fond of flowers,
+but have never given much thought to their care, leaving that to
+your gardener. Flowers are only half enjoyed by those who do not
+cultivate them, nurse, or pet them. Then there is such an infinite
+variety that before you know it your thoughts are pleasantly
+occupied in experimenting with even one family of plants. It is an
+interest which will keep you much in the open air and bring you
+close to Mother Nature."
+
+The result of this talk was that the sad-hearted girl first by
+resolute effort and then by a growing fondness for the tasks,
+began to take a personal interest in the daily welfare of her
+plants. Martine and her father were always on the look-out for
+something new and rare; and as winter approached, the former had a
+small conservatory built on the sunny side of the house. They also
+gave her several caged song-birds, which soon learned to recognize
+and welcome her. From one of his clients Martine obtained a droll-
+looking dog that seemed to possess almost human intelligence. In
+the daily care of living things and dependent creatures that could
+bloom or be joyous without jarring upon her feelings, as would
+human mirth or gayety, her mind became wholesomely occupied part
+of each day; she could smile at objects which did not know, which
+could not understand.
+
+Still, there was no effort on her part to escape sad memories or
+the acts and duties which revived them. A noble monument had been
+erected to Captain Nichol, and one of her chief pleasures was to
+decorate it with the flowers grown under her own care. Few days
+passed on which she did not visit one of the families who were or
+had been represented at the front, while Mrs. Nichol felt that if
+she had lost a son she had in a measure gained a daughter. As the
+months passed and winter was wellnigh spent, the wise gossips of
+the village again began to shake their heads and remark, "Helen
+Kemble and Bart Martine are very good friends; but I guess that's
+all it will amount to--all, at any rate, for a long time."
+
+All, for all time, Helen had honestly thought. It might easily
+have been for all time had another lover sought her, or if Martine
+himself had become a wooer and so put her on her guard. It was his
+patient acceptance of what she had said could not be helped, his
+self-forgetfulness, which caused her to remember his need--a need
+greatly increased by a sad event. In the breaking up of winter his
+mother took a heavy cold which ended in pneumonia and death.
+
+The gossips made many plans for him and indulged in many surmises
+as to what he would do; but he merely engaged the services of an
+old woman as domestic, and lived on quietly as before. Perhaps he
+grew a little morbid after this bereavement and clung more closely
+to his lonely hearth.
+
+This would not be strange. Those who dwell among shadows become
+ill at ease away from them. Helen was the first to discover this
+tendency, and to note that he was not rallying as she had hoped he
+would. He rarely sought their house except by invitation, and then
+often lapsed into silences which he broke with an evident effort.
+He never uttered a word of complaint or consciously appealed for
+sympathy, but was slowly yielding to the steady pressure of
+sadness which had almost been his heritage. She would have been
+less than woman if, recalling the past and knowing so well the
+unsatisfied love in his heart, she had not felt for him daily a
+larger and deeper commiseration. When the early March winds
+rattled the casements, or drove the sleety rain against the
+windows, she saw him in fancy sitting alone brooding, always
+brooding.
+
+One day she asked abruptly, "Hobart, what are you thinking about
+so deeply when you are looking at the fire?"
+
+A slow, deep flush came into his face, and he hesitated in his
+answer. At last he said, "I fear I'm getting into a bad mood, and
+think I must do something decided. Well, for one thing, the
+continuance of this war weighs upon my spirit. Men are getting so
+scarce that I believe they will take me in some capacity. Now that
+mother is not here, I think I ought to go."
+
+"Oh, Hobart, we would miss you so!" she faltered.
+
+He looked up with a smile. "Yes, Helen, I think you would--not
+many others, though. You have become so brave and strong that you
+do not need me any more."
+
+"I am not so brave and strong as I seem. If I were, how did I
+become so? With the tact and delicacy of a woman, yet with the
+strength of a man, you broke the crushing force of the first blow,
+and have helped me ever since."
+
+"You see everything through a very friendly medium. At any rate I
+could not have been content a moment if I had not done all in my
+power. You do not need me any longer; you have become a source of
+strength to others. I cannot help seeing crowded hospital wards;
+and the thought pursues me that in one of them I might do
+something to restore a soldier to his place in the field or save
+him for those at home. I could at least be a hospital nurse, and I
+believe it would be better for me to be doing some such work."
+
+"I believe it would be better for me also," she answered, her eyes
+full of tears.
+
+"No, Helen--no, indeed. You have the higher mission of healing the
+heart-wounds which the war is making in your own vicinity. You
+should not think of leaving your father and mother in their old
+age, or of filling their days with anxiety which might shorten
+their lives."
+
+"It will be very hard for us to let you go. Oh, I did not think I
+would have to face this also!"
+
+He glanced at her hastily, for there was a sharp distress in her
+tone, of which she was scarcely conscious herself. Then, as if
+recollecting himself, he reasoned gently and earnestly: "You were
+not long in adopting the best antidote for trouble. In comforting
+others, you have been comforted. The campaign is opening in
+Virginia; and I think it would be a good and wholesome thing for
+me to be at work among the wounded. If I can save one life, it
+will be such a comfort after the war is over."
+
+"Yes," she replied, softly; "the war will be over some day.
+Albert, in his last letter, said the war would cease, and that
+happy days of peace were coming. How they can ever be happy days
+to some I scarcely know; but he seemed to foresee the future when
+he wrote."
+
+"Helen, I'm going. Perhaps the days of peace will be a little
+happier if I go."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+SECOND BLOOM
+
+
+Martine carried out his purpose almost immediately, seeking the
+temporary and most exposed hospitals on the extreme left of
+Grant's army before Petersburg. Indeed, while battles were still
+in progress he would make his way to the front and become the
+surgeon's tireless assistant. While thus engaged, even under the
+enemy's fire, he was able to render services to Jim Wetherby which
+probably saved the soldier's life. Jim lost his right arm, but
+found a nurse who did not let him want for anything till the
+danger point following amputation had passed. Before many weeks he
+was safe at home, and from him Helen learned more of Martine's
+quiet heroism than she could ever gather from his letters. In Jim
+Wetherby's estimation, Cap and Bart Martine were the two heroes of
+the war.
+
+The latter had found the right antidote. Not a moment was left for
+morbid brooding. On every side were sharp physical distress,
+deadly peril to life and limb, pathetic efforts to hold ground
+against diseases or sloughing wounds. In aiding such endeavor, in
+giving moral support and physical care, Martine forgot himself.
+Helen's letters also were an increasing inspiration. He could
+scarcely take up one of them and say, "Here her words begin to
+have a warmer tinge of feeling;" but as spring advanced,
+imperceptibly yet surely, in spite of pauses and apparent
+retrogressions, just so surely she revealed a certain warmth of
+sympathy. He was engaged in a work which made it easy for her to
+idealize him. His unselfish effort to help men live, to keep
+bitter tears from the eyes of their relatives, appealed most
+powerfully to all that was unselfish in her nature, and she was
+beginning to ask, "If I can make this man happier, why should I
+not do so?" Nichol's letter gained a new meaning in the light of
+events: "I do not ask you to forget me--that would be worse than
+death--but I ask you to try to be happy and to make others happy."
+
+"A noble, generous nature prompted those words," she now often
+mused. "How can I obey their spirit better than in rewarding the
+man who not only has done so much for me, but also at every cost
+sought to rescue him?"
+
+In this growing disposition she had no innate repugnance to
+overcome, nor the shrinking which can neither be defined nor
+reasoned against. Accustomed to see him almost daily from
+childhood, conscious for years that he was giving her a love that
+was virtually homage, she found her heart growing very
+compassionate and ready to yield the strong, quiet affection which
+she believed might satisfy him. This had come about through no
+effort on her part, from no seeking on his, but was the result of
+circumstances, the outgrowth of her best and most unselfish
+feelings.
+
+But the effect began to separate itself in character from its
+causes. All that had gone before might explain why she was
+learning to love him, and be sufficient reason for this affection,
+but a woman's love, even that quiet phase developing in Helen's
+heart, is not like a man's conviction, for which he can give his
+clear-cut reasons. It is a tenderness for its object--a wish to
+serve and give all in return for what it receives.
+
+Martine vaguely felt this change in Helen long before he
+understood it. He saw only a warmer glow of sisterly affection,
+too high a valuation of his self-denying work, and a more generous
+attempt to give him all the solace and support within her power.
+
+One day in July, when the war was well over and the field
+hospitals long since broken up, he wrote from Washington, where he
+was still pursuing his labors:
+
+"My work is drawing to a close. Although I have not accomplished a
+tithe of what I wished to do, and have soon so much left undone, I
+am glad to remember that I have alleviated much pain and, I think,
+saved some lives. Such success as I have had, dear Helen, has
+largely been due to you. Your letters have been like manna. You do
+not know--it would be impossible for you to know--the strength
+they have given, the inspiration they have afforded. I am
+naturally very weary and worn physically, and the doctors say I
+must soon have rest; but your kind words have been life-giving to
+my soul. I turn to them from day to day as one would seek a cool,
+unfailing spring. I can now accept life gratefully with the
+conditions which cannot be changed. How fine is the influence of a
+woman like you! What deep springs of action it touches! When
+waiting on the sick and wounded, I try to blend your womanly
+nature with my coarser fibre. Truly, neither of us has suffered in
+vain if we learn better to minister to others. I cannot tell you
+how I long to see the home gardens again; and it now seems that
+just to watch you in yours will be unalloyed happiness."
+
+Helen smiled over this letter with sweet, deep meanings in her
+eyes.
+
+One August evening, as the Kemble family sat at tea, he gave them
+a joyous surprise by appearing at the door and asking in a matter-
+of-fact voice, "Can you put an extra plate on the table?"
+
+There was no mistaking the gladness of her welcome, for it was as
+genuine as the bluff heartiness of her father and the gentle
+solicitude of her mother, who exclaimed, "Oh, Hobart, how thin and
+pale you are!"
+
+"A few weeks' rest at home will remedy all that," he said. "The
+heat in Washington was more trying than my work."
+
+"Well, thank the Lord! you ARE at home once more," cried the
+banker. "I was thinking of drawing on the authorities at
+Washington for a neighbor who had been loaned much too long."
+
+"Helen," said Martine, with pleased eyes, "how well you look! It
+is a perfect delight to see color in your cheeks once more. They
+are gaining, too, their old lovely roundness. I'm going to say
+what I think right out, for I've been with soldiers so long that
+I've acquired their bluntness."
+
+"It's that garden work you lured me into," she explained. "I hope
+you won't think your plants and trees have been neglected."
+
+"Have you been keeping my pets from missing me?"
+
+"I guess they have missed you least of all. Helen has seen to it
+that they were cared for first," said Mrs. Kemble, emphatically.
+
+"You didn't write about that;" and he looked at the girl
+gratefully.
+
+"Do you think I could see weeds and neglect just over the fence?"
+she asked, with a piquant toss of her head.
+
+"Do you think I could believe that you cared for my garden only
+that your eyes might not be offended?"
+
+"There, I only wished to give you a little surprise. You have
+treated us to one by walking in with such delightful
+unexpectedness, and so should understand. I'll show you when you
+are through supper."
+
+"I'm through now;" and he rose with a promptness most pleasing to
+her. His gladness in recognizing old and carefully nurtured
+friends, his keen, appreciative interest in the new candidates for
+favor that she had planted, rewarded her abundantly.
+
+"Oh," he exclaimed, "what a heavenly exchange from the close,
+fetid air of hospital wards! Could the first man have been more
+content in his divinely planted garden?"
+
+She looked at him shyly and thought, "Perhaps when you taste of
+the fruit of knowledge the old story will have a new and better
+meaning."
+
+She now regarded him with a new and wistful interest, no longer
+seeing him through the medium of friendship only. His face, thin
+and spiritualized, revealed his soul without disguise. It was the
+countenance of one who had won peace through the divine path of
+ministry--healing others, himself had been healed. She saw also
+his unchanged, steadfast love shining like a gem over which flows
+a crystal current. Its ray was as serene as it was undimmed. It
+had taken its place as an imperishable quality in his character--a
+place which it would retain without vicissitude unless some sign
+from her called it into immediate and strong manifestation. She
+was in no haste to give this. Time was touching her kindly; the
+sharp, cruel outlines of the past were softening in the distance,
+and she was content to remember that the treasure was hers when
+she was ready for it--a treasure more valued daily.
+
+With exultation she saw him honored by the entire community. Few
+days passed without new proofs of the hold he had gained on the
+deepest and best feelings of the people. She who once had pitied
+now looked up to him as the possessor of that manhood which the
+most faultless outward semblance can only suggest.
+
+Love is a magician at whose touch the plainest features take on
+new aspects. Helen's face had never been plain. Even in its
+anguish it had produced in beholders the profound commiseration
+which is more readily given when beauty is sorrowful. Now that a
+new life at heart was expressing itself, Martine, as well as
+others, could not fail to note the subtile changes. While the dewy
+freshness of her girlish bloom was absent, the higher and more
+womanly qualities were now revealing themselves. Her nature had
+been deepened by her experiences, and the harmony of her life was
+all the sweeter for its minor chords.
+
+To Martine she became a wonderful mystery, and he almost
+worshipped the woman whose love he believed buried in an unknown
+grave, but whose eyes were often so strangely kind. He resumed his
+old life, but no longer brooded at home, when the autumn winds
+began to blow. He recognized the old danger and shunned it
+resolutely. If he could not beguile his thoughts from Helen, it
+was but a step to her home, and her eyes always shone with a
+luminous welcome. Unless detained by study of the legal points of
+some case in hand, he usually found his way over to the Kemble
+fireside before the evening passed, and his friends encouraged him
+to come when he felt like it. The old banker found the young man
+exceedingly companionable, especially in his power to discuss
+intelligently the new financial conditions into which the country
+was passing. Helen would smile to herself as she watched the two
+men absorbed in questions she little understood, and observed her
+mother nodding drowsily over her knitting. The scene was so
+peaceful, so cheery, so hopeful against the dark background of the
+past, that she could not refrain from gratitude. Her heart no
+longer ached with despairing sorrow, and the anxious, troubled
+expression had faded out of her parents' faces.
+
+"Yes," she would murmur softly to herself, "Albert was right; the
+bloody war has ceased, and the happy days of peace are coming.
+Heaven has blessed him and made his memory doubly blessed, in that
+he had the heart to wish them to be happy, although he could not
+live to see them. Unconsciously he took the thorns out of the path
+which led to his friend and mine. How richly father enjoys
+Hobart's companionship! He will be scarcely less happy--when he
+knows--than yonder friend, who is such a very scrupulous friend.
+Indeed, how either is ever going to know I scarcely see, unless I
+make a formal statement."
+
+Suddenly Martine turned, and caught sight of her expression.
+
+"All I have for your thoughts! What wouldn't I give to know them!"
+
+Her face became rosier than the firelight warranted as she laughed
+outright and shook her head.
+
+"No matter," he said; "I am content to hear you laugh like that."
+
+"Yes, yes," added the banker; "Helen's laugh is sweeter to me than
+any music I ever heard. Thank God! we all can laugh again. I am
+getting old, and in the course of nature must soon jog on to the
+better country. When that time comes, the only music I want to
+hear from earth is good, honest laughter."
+
+"Now, papa, hush that talk right away," cried Helen, with
+glistening eyes.
+
+"What's the matter?" Mrs. Kemble asked, waking up.
+
+"Nothing, my dear, only it's time for us old people to go to bed."
+
+"Well, I own that it would be more becoming to sleep there than to
+reflect so unfavorably on your conversation. Of late years talk
+about money matters always puts me to sleep."
+
+"That wasn't the case, was it, my dear, when we tried to stretch a
+thousand so it would reach from one January to another?"
+
+"I remember," she replied, smiling and rolling up her knitting,
+"that we sometimes had to suspend specie payments. Ah, well, we
+were happy."
+
+When left alone, it was Helen's turn to say, "Now your thoughts
+are wool-gathering. You don't see the fire when you look at it
+that way."
+
+"No, I suppose not," replied Martine. "I'll be more frank than
+you. Your mother's words, 'We were happy,' left an echo in my
+mind. How experience varies! It is pleasant to think that there
+are many perfectly normal, happy lives like those of your father
+and mother."
+
+"That's one thing I like in you, Hobart. You are so perfectly
+willing that others should be happy."
+
+"Helen, I agree with your father. Your laugh WAS music, the
+sweetest I ever heard. I'm more than willing that you should be
+happy. Why should you not be? I have always felt that what he said
+was true--what he said about the right to laugh after sorrow--but
+it never seemed so true before. Who could wish to leave blighting
+sorrow after him? Who could sing in heaven if he knew that he had
+left tears which could not be dried on earth?"
+
+"You couldn't," she replied with bowed head.
+
+"Nor you, either; nor the brave man who died, to whom I only do
+justice in believing that he would only be happier could he hear
+your laugh. Your father's wholesome, hearty nature should teach us
+to banish every morbid tendency. Let your heart grow as light as
+it will, my friend. Your natural impulses will not lead you
+astray. Good-night."
+
+"You feel sure of that?" she asked, giving him a hand that
+fluttered in his, and looking at him with a soft fire in her eyes.
+
+"Oh, Helen, how distractingly beautiful you are! You are blooming
+again like your Jack-roses when the second growth pushes them into
+flower. There; I must go. If I had a stone in my breast instead of
+a heart--Good-night. I won't be weak again."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+MORE THAN REWARD
+
+
+Helen Kemble's character was simple and direct She was one who
+lived vividly in the passing hour, and had a greater capacity for
+deep emotions than for retaining them. The reputation for
+constancy is sometimes won by those incapable of strong
+convictions. A scratch upon a rock remains in all its sharpness,
+while the furrow that has gone deep into the heart of a field is
+eventually almost hidden by a new flowering growth. The truth was
+fully exemplified in Helen's case; and a willingness to marry her
+lifelong lover, prompted at first by a spirit of self-sacrifice,
+had become, under the influence of daily companionship, more than
+mere assent. While gratitude and the wish to see the light of a
+great, unexpected joy come into his eyes remained her chief
+motives, she had learned that she could attain a happiness
+herself, not hoped for once, in making him happy.
+
+He was true to his word, after the interview described in the
+preceding chapter. He did not consciously reveal the unappeased
+hunger of his heart, but her intuition was never at fault a
+moment.
+
+One Indian-summer-like morning, about the middle of October, he
+went over to her home and said, "Helen, what do you say to a long
+day's outing? The foliage is at its brightest, the air soft as
+that of June. Why not store up a lot of this sunshine for winter
+use?"
+
+"Yes, Helen, go," urged her mother. "I can attend to everything."
+
+"A long day, did you stipulate?" said the girl in ready assent;
+"that means we should take a lunch. I don't believe you ever
+thought of that."
+
+"We could crack nuts, rob apple-orchards, or if driven to
+extremity, raid a farmhouse."
+
+"You have heard too much from the soldiers about living off the
+country. I'd rather raid mamma's cupboard before we start. I'll be
+ready as soon as you are."
+
+He soon appeared in his low, easy phaeton; and she joined him with
+the presentiment that there might be even greater gladness in his
+face by evening than it now expressed. While on the way to the
+brow of a distant hill which would be their lunching place, they
+either talked with the freedom of old friends or lapsed into long
+silences.
+
+At last he asked, "Isn't it a little odd that when with you the
+sense of companionship is just as strong when you are not
+talking?"
+
+"It's a comfort you are so easily entertained. Don't you think I'm
+a rather moderate talker for a woman?"
+
+"Those that talk the most are often least entertaining. I've
+thought a good deal about it--the unconscious influence of people
+on one another. I don't mean influence in any moral sense, but in
+the power to make one comfortable or uncomfortable, and to produce
+a sense of restfulness and content or to make one ill at ease and
+nervously desirous of escape."
+
+"And you have actually no nervous desire to escape, no castings
+around in your mind for an excuse to turn around and drive home?"
+
+"No one could give a surer answer to your question than yourself.
+I've been thinking of something pleasanter than my enjoyment."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"That your expression has been a very contented one during the
+last hour. I am coming to believe that you can accept my
+friendship without effort. You women are all such mysteries! One
+gets hold of a clew now and then. I have fancied that if you had
+started out in the spirit of self-sacrifice that I might have a
+pleasant time, you would be more conscious of your purpose. Even
+your tact might not have kept me from seeing that you were
+exerting yourself; but the very genius of the day seems to possess
+you. Nature is not exerting herself in the least. No breath of air
+is stirring; all storms are in the past or the future. With a
+smile on her face, she is just resting in serene content, as you
+were, I hope. She is softening and obscuring everything distant by
+an orange haze, so that the sunny present may be all the more
+real. Days like these will do you good, especially if your face
+and manner reveal that you can be as truly at rest as Nature."
+
+"Yet what changes may soon pass over the placid scene!"
+
+"Yes, but don't think of them."
+
+"Well, I won't--not now. Yes, you are becoming very penetrating. I
+am not exerting myself in the least to give you a pleasant time. I
+am just selfishly and lazily content."
+
+"That fact gives me so much more than content that it makes me
+happy."
+
+"Hobart, you are the most unselfish man I ever knew."
+
+"Nonsense!"
+
+They had reached their picnic-ground--the edge of a grove whose
+bright-hued foliage still afforded a grateful shade. The horse was
+unharnessed and picketed so that he might have a long range for
+grazing. Then Martine brought the provision basket to the foot of
+a great oak, and sat down to wait for Helen, who had wandered away
+in search of wild flowers. At last she came with a handful of
+late-blooming closed gentians.
+
+"I thought these would make an agreeable feature in your lunch."
+
+"Oh, you are beginning to exert yourself."
+
+"Yes, I have concluded to, a little. So must you, to the extent of
+making a fire. The rest will be woman's work. I propose to drink
+your health in a cup of coffee."
+
+"Ah, this is unalloyed," he cried, sipping it later on.
+
+"The coffee?"
+
+"Yes, and everything. We don't foresee the bright days any more
+than the dark ones. I did not dream of this in Virginia."
+
+"You are easily satisfied. The coffee is smoky, the lunch is cold,
+winter is coming, and--"
+
+"And I am very happy," he said.
+
+"It would be a pity to disturb your serenity."
+
+"Nothing shall disturb it to-day. Peace is one of the rarest
+experiences in this world. I mean only to remember that our armies
+are disbanded and that you are at rest, like Nature."
+
+She had brought a little book of autumn poems, and after lunch
+read to him for an hour, he listening with the same expression of
+quiet satisfaction. As the day declined, she shivered slightly in
+the shade. He immediately arose and put a shawl around her.
+
+"You are always shielding me," she said gently.
+
+"One can do so little of that kind of thing," he replied, "not
+much more than show intent."
+
+"Now you do yourself injustice." After a moment's hesitancy she
+added, "I am not quite in your mood to-day, and even Nature, as
+your ally, cannot make me forget or even wish to forget."
+
+"I do not wish you to forget, but merely cease to remember for a
+little while. You say Nature is my ally. Listen: already the wind
+is beginning to sigh in the branches overhead. The sound is low
+and mournful, as if full of regret for the past and forebodings
+for the future. There is a change coming. All that I wished or
+could expect in you was that this serene, quiet day would give you
+a respite--that complete repose in which the wounded spirit is
+more rapidly healed and strengthened for the future."
+
+"Have you been strengthened? Have you no fears for the future?"
+
+"No fears, Helen. My life is strong in its negation. The man who
+is agitated by hopes and fears, who is doomed to disappointments,
+is the one who has not recognized his limitations, who has not
+accepted well-defined conditions."
+
+"Hobart, I'm going to put you on your honor now. Remember, and do
+not answer hastily," and her gaze into his face was searching.
+Although quiet and perfectly self-controlled, the rich color
+mounted to her very brow.
+
+"Well, Helen," he asked wonderingly.
+
+"Imagine it possible," she continued with the same earnest gaze,
+"that you were a woman who has loved as I have loved, and lost as
+I have. The circumstances are all known, and you have only to
+recall them. If a man had loved you as you have loved me--"
+
+"But, Helen, can you not believe in a love so strong that it does
+not ask--"
+
+By a gesture she checked him and repeated, "But if a man had loved
+you as you have loved me--remember now, on your honor--would you
+permit him to love with no better reward than the consciousness of
+being a solace, a help, a sort of buffer between you and the ills
+of life?"
+
+"But, Helen, I am more than that: I am your friend."
+
+"Indeed you are, the best a woman ever had, or I could not speak
+as I am doing. Yet what I say is true. From the first it has been
+your sleepless aim to stand between me and trouble. What have I
+ever done for you?"
+
+"In giving me your friendship--"
+
+Again she interrupted him, saying, "That virtually means giving
+you the chance for continued self-sacrifice. Any man or woman in
+the land would give you friendship on such terms, YOUR terms with
+me. But you do not answer my question; yet you have answered it
+over and over again. Were you in my place with your unselfish
+nature, you could not take so very much without an inevitable
+longing to return all in your power."
+
+He was deeply agitated. Burying his face in his hands, he said
+hoarsely, "I must not look at you, or my duty may be too hard. Ah,
+you are banishing peace and serenity now with a vengeance! I
+recognize your motive--whither your thoughts are tending. Your
+conscience, your pity, your exaggerated gratitude are driving you
+to contemplate a self-sacrifice compared with which mine is as
+nothing. Yet the possibility of what you suggest is so sweet, so--
+oh, it is like the reward of heaven for a brief life!" Then he
+bowed his head lower and added slowly, as if the words were forced
+from him, "No, Helen, you shall not reward me. I cannot take as
+pay, or 'return,' as you express it, the reward that you are
+meditating. I must not remember in after years that my efforts in
+your behalf piled up such a burdensome sense of obligation that
+there was but one escape from it."
+
+She came to his side, and removing his hands from his face,
+retained one of them as she said, gently, "Hobart, I am no longer
+a shy girl. I have suffered too deeply, I have learned too
+thoroughly how life may be robbed of happiness, and for a time,
+almost of hope, not to see the folly of letting the years slip
+away, unproductive of half what they might yield to you and me. I
+understand you; you do not understand me, probably because your
+ideal is too high. You employed an illustration in the narrowest
+meaning. Is heaven given only as a reward? Is not every true gift
+an expression of something back of the gift, more than the gift?"
+
+"Helen!"
+
+"Yes, Hobart, in my wish to make you happier I am not bent on
+unredeemed self-sacrifice. You have been the most skilful of
+wooers."
+
+"And you are the divinest of mysteries. How have I wooed you?"
+
+"By not wooing at all, by taking a course which compelled my heart
+to plead your cause, by giving unselfish devotion so unstintedly
+that like the rain and dew of heaven, it has fostered a new life
+in my heart, different from the old, yet sweet, real, and
+precious. I have learned that I can be happier in making you
+happy. Oh, I shall be no martyr. Am I inconstant because time and
+your ministry have healed the old wound--because the steady warmth
+and glow of your love has kindled mine?"
+
+He regarded her with a gaze so rapt, so reverent, so expressive of
+immeasurable gratitude that her eyes filled with tears. "I think
+you do understand me," she whispered.
+
+He kissed her hand in homage as he replied, "A joy like this is
+almost as hard to comprehend at first as an equally great sorrow.
+My garden teaches me to understand you. A perfect flower-stalk is
+suddenly and rudely broken. Instead of dying, it eventually sends
+out a little side-shoot which gives what bloom it can."
+
+"And you will be content with what it can give?"
+
+"I shall be glad with a happiness which almost terrifies me. Only
+God knows how I have longed for this."
+
+That evening the old banker scarcely ceased rubbing his hands in
+general felicitation, while practical, housewifely Mrs. Kemble
+already began to plan what she intended to do toward establishing
+Helen in the adjoining cottage.
+
+Now that Martine believed his great happiness possible, he was
+eager for its consummation. At his request the 1st of December was
+named as the wedding day. "The best that a fireside and evening
+lamp ever suggested will then come true to me," ha urged. "Since
+this can be, life is too short that it should not be soon."
+
+Helen readily yielded. Indeed, they were all so absorbed in
+planning for his happiness as to be oblivious of the rising storm.
+When at last the girl went to her room, the wind sighed and wailed
+so mournfully around the house as to produce a feeling of
+depression and foreboding.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+YANKEE BLANK
+
+
+The wild night storm which followed the most memorable day of his
+life had no power to depress Martine. In the wavy flames and
+glowing coals of his open fire he saw heavenly pictures of the
+future. He drew his mother's low chair to the hearth, and his
+kindled fancy placed Helen in it. Memory could so reproduce her
+lovely and familiar features that her presence became almost a
+reality. In a sense he watched her changing expression and heard
+her low, mellow tones. The truth that both would express an
+affection akin to his own grew upon his consciousness like the
+incoming of a sun-lighted tide. The darkness and storm without
+became only the background of his pictures, enhancing every
+prophetic representation. The night passed in ecstatic waking
+dreams of all that the word "home" suggests when a woman, loved as
+he loved Helen, was its architect.
+
+The days and weeks which followed were filled with divine
+enchantment; the prosaic world was transfigured; the intricacies
+of the law were luminous with the sheen of gold, becoming the
+quartz veins from which he would mine wealth for Helen; the plants
+in his little rose-house were cared for with caressing tenderness
+because they gave buds which would be worn over the heart now
+throbbing for him. Never did mortal know such unalloyed happiness
+as blessed Martine, as he became daily more convinced that Helen
+was not giving herself to him merely from the promptings of
+compassion.
+
+At times, when she did not know he was listening, he heard her
+low, sweet laugh; and it had a joyous ring and melody which
+repeated itself like a haunting refrain of music. He would say
+smilingly, "It is circumstantial evidence, equivalent to direct
+proof."
+
+Helen and her mother almost took possession of his house while he
+was absent at his office, refurnishing and transforming it, yet
+retaining with reverent memory what was essentially associated
+with Mrs. Martine. The changing aspects of the house did not
+banish the old sense of familiarity, but were rather like the
+apple-tree in the corner of the garden when budding into new
+foliage and flower. The banker's purse was ever open for all this
+renovation, but Martine jealously persisted in his resolve to meet
+every expense himself. Witnessing his gladness and satisfaction,
+they let him have his way, he meanwhile exulting over Helen's
+absorbed interest in the adornment of her future home.
+
+The entire village had a friendly concern in the approaching
+wedding; and the aged gossips never tired of saying, "I told you
+so," believing that they understood precisely how it had all come
+about. Even Mrs. Nichol aquiesced with a few deep sighs, assuring
+herself, "I suppose it's natural. I'd rather it was Bart Martine
+than anybody else."
+
+A few days before the 1st of December, Martine received a telegram
+from an aged uncle residing in a distant State. It conveyed a
+request hard to comply with, yet he did not see how it could be
+evaded. The despatch was delivered in the evening while he was at
+the Kembles', and its effect upon the little group was like a bolt
+out of a clear sky. It ran:
+
+"Your cousin dangerously ill at----Hospital, Washington. Go to him
+at once, if possible, and telegraph me to come, if necessary."
+
+Hobart explained that this cousin had remained in the army from
+choice, and that his father, old and feeble, naturally shrank from
+a journey to which he was scarcely equal. "My hospital
+experience," he concluded, "leads him to think that I am just the
+one to go, especially as I can get there much sooner than he. I
+suppose he is right. Indeed, I do not know of any one else whom he
+could call upon. It certainly is a very painful duty at this
+time."
+
+"I can't endure to think of it," Helen exclaimed.
+
+"It's a clear question of conscience, Helen," he replied gently.
+"Many years have passed since I saw this cousin, yet he, and still
+more strongly his father, have the claims of kinship. If anything
+should happen which my presence could avert, you know we should
+both feel bad. It would be a cloud upon our happiness. If this
+request had come before you had changed everything for me, you
+know I would have gone without a moment's hesitation. Very
+gratitude should make me more ready for duty;" yet he signed
+deeply.
+
+"But it may delay the wedding, for which the invitations have gone
+out," protested Mrs. Kemble.
+
+"Possibly it may, if my cousin's life is in danger." Then,
+brightening up, he added: "Perhaps I shall find that I can leave
+him in good care for a short time, and then we can go to
+Washington on our wedding trip. I would like to gain associations
+with that city different from those I now have."
+
+"Come now," said the banker, hopefully, "if we must face this
+thing, we must. The probabilities are that it will turn out as
+Hobart says. At worst it can only be a sad interruption and
+episode. Hobart will be better satisfied in the end if he does
+what he now thinks his duty."
+
+"Yours is the right view," assented the young man, firmly. "I
+shall take the midnight train, and telegraph as soon as I have
+seen my cousin and the hospital surgeon."
+
+He went home and hastily made his preparations; then, with valise
+in hand, returned to the Kembles'. The old people bade him
+Godspeed on his journey, and considerately left him with his
+affianced.
+
+"Hobart," Helen entreated, as they were parting, "be more than
+ordinarily prudent. Do not take any risks, even the most trivial,
+unless you feel you must. Perhaps I'm weak and foolish, but I'm
+possessed with a strange, nervous dread. This sudden call of duty--for
+so I suppose I must look upon it--seems so inopportune;" and she hid
+her tears on his shoulder.
+
+"You are taking it much too seriously, darling," he said, gently
+drawing her closer to him.
+
+"Yes, my reason tells me that I am. You are only going on a brief
+journey, facing nothing that can be called danger. Yet I speak as
+I feel--I cannot help feeling. Give me glad reassurance by
+returning quickly and safely. Then hereafter I will laugh at
+forebodings."
+
+"There, you need not wait till I reach Washington. You shall hear
+from me in the morning, and I will also telegraph when I have
+opportunity on my journey."
+
+"Please do so, and remember that I could not endure to have my
+life impoverished again."
+
+Late the following evening, Martine inquired his way to the
+bedside of his cousin, and was glad indeed to find him
+convalescent. His own experienced eyes, together with the
+statement of the sick man and wardmaster, convinced him that the
+danger point was well passed. In immense relief of mind he said
+cheerily, "I will watch to-night"; and so it was arranged.
+
+His cousin, soothed and hushed in his desire to talk, soon dropped
+into quiet slumber, while Martine's thronging thoughts banished
+the sense of drowsiness. A shaded lamp burned near, making a
+circle of light and leaving the rest of the ward dim and shadowy.
+The scene was very familiar, and it was an easy effort for his
+imagination to place in the adjoining cots the patients with whom,
+months before, he had fought the winning or losing battle of life.
+While memory sometimes went back compassionately to those
+sufferers, his thoughts dwelt chiefly upon the near future, with
+its certainty of happiness--a happiness doubly appreciated because
+his renewed experience in the old conditions of his life made the
+home which awaited him all the sweeter from contrast. He could
+scarcely believe that he was the same man who in places like this
+had sought to forget the pain of bereavement and of denial of his
+dearest wish--he who in the morning would telegraph Helen that the
+wedding need not even be postponed, or any change made in their
+plans.
+
+The hours were passing almost unnoted, when a patient beyond the
+circle of light feebly called for water. Almost mechanically
+Hobart rose to get it, when a man wearing carpet slippers and an
+old dressing-gown shuffled noiselessly into view.
+
+"Captain Nichol!" gasped Martine, sinking back, faint and
+trembling, in his chair.
+
+The man paid no attention, but passed through the circle of light
+to the patient, gave him a drink, and turned. Martine stared with
+the paralysis of one looking upon an apparition.
+
+When the figure was opposite to him, he again ejaculated hoarsely,
+"Captain Nichol!"
+
+The form in slippers and gray ghostly dressing-gown turned sleepy
+eyes upon him without the slightest sign of recognition, passed
+on, and disappeared among the shadows near the wardmaster's room.
+
+A blending of relief and fearful doubt agitated Martine. He knew
+he had been wide awake and in the possession of every faculty--
+that his imagination had been playing him no tricks. He was not
+even thinking of Nichol at the time; yet the impression that he
+had looked upon and spoken to his old schoolmate, to Helen's dead
+lover, had been as strong as it was instantaneous. When the man
+had turned, there had been an unnatural expression, which in a
+measure dispelled the illusion. After a moment of thought which
+scorched his brain, he rose and followed the man's steps, and was
+in time to see him rolling himself in his blanket on the cot
+nearest the door. From violent agitation, Martine unconsciously
+shook the figure outlined in the blanket roughly, as he asked,
+"What's your name?"
+
+"Yankee Blank, doggone yer! Kyant you wake a feller 'thout yankin'
+'im out o' baid? What yer want?"
+
+"Great God!" muttered Hobart, tottering back to his seat beside
+his sleeping cousin, "was there ever such a horrible, mocking
+suggestion of one man in another? Yankee Blank--what a name!
+Southern accent and vernacular, yet Nichol's voice! Such
+similarity combined with such dissimilarity is like a nightmare.
+Of course it's not Nichol. He was killed nearly two years ago. I'd
+be more than human if I could wish him back now; but never in my
+life have I been so shocked and startled. This apparition must
+account for itself in the morning."
+
+But he could not wait till morning; he could not control himself
+five minutes. He felt that he must banish that horrible semblance
+of Nichol from his mind by convincing himself of its absurdity.
+
+He waited a few moments in order to compose his nerves, and then
+returned. The man had evidently gone to sleep.
+
+"What a fool I am!" Martine again muttered. "Let the poor fellow
+sleep. The fact that he doesn't know me is proof enough. The idea
+of wanting any proof! I can investigate his case in the morning,
+and, no doubt, in broad light that astonishing suggestion of
+Nichol will disappear."
+
+He was about to turn away when the patient who had called for
+water groaned slightly. As if his ears were as sensitive to such
+sounds as those of a mother who hears her child even when it
+stirs, the man arose. Seeing Martine standing by him, he asked in
+slight irritation, "What yer want? Why kyant yer say what yer want
+en have done 'th it? Lemme 'tend ter that feller yander firs'. We
+uns don't want no mo' stiffs;" and he shuffled with a peculiar,
+noiseless tread to the patient whose case seemed on his mind.
+Martine followed, his very hair rising at the well-remembered
+tones, and the mysterious principle of identity again revealed
+within the circle of light.
+
+"This is simply horrible!" he groaned inwardly, "and I must have
+that man account for himself instantly."
+
+"Now I'll 'tend ter yer, but yer mout let a feller sleep when he
+kin."
+
+"Don't you know me?" faltered Martine, overpowered.
+
+"Naw."
+
+"Please tell me your real name, not your nickname."
+
+"Ain' got no name 'cept Yankee Blank. What's the matter with yer,
+anyhow?"
+
+"Didn't you ever hear of Captain Nichol?"
+
+"Reckon not. Mout have. I've nussed mo' cap'ins than I kin
+reckerlect."
+
+"Are you a hospital nurse?"
+
+"Sorter 'spect I am. That's what I does, anyhow. Have you anything
+agin it? Don't yer come 'ferin' round with me less yer a doctor,
+astin' no end o' questions. Air you a new doctor?"
+
+"My name is Hobart Martine," the speaker forced himself to say,
+expecting fearfully a sign of recognition, for the impression that
+it was Nichol grew upon him every moment, in spite of apparent
+proof to the contrary.
+
+"Hump! Hob't Ma'tine. Never yeared on yer. Ef yer want ter chin
+mo' in the mawnin', I'll be yere."
+
+"Wait a moment, Yan--"
+
+"Yankee Blank, I tole yer."
+
+"Well, here's a dollar for the trouble I'm making you," and
+Martine's face flushed with shame at the act, so divided was his
+impression about the man.
+
+Yankee Blank took the money readily, grinned, and said, "Now I'll
+chin till mawnin' ef yer wants hit."
+
+"I won't keep you long. You remind me of--of--well, of Captain
+Nichol."
+
+"He must 'a' been a cur'ous chap. Folks all say I'm a cur'ous
+chap."
+
+"Won't you please tell me all that you can remember about
+yourself?"
+
+"'Tain't much. Short hoss soon curried. Allus ben in hospitals.
+Had high ole jinks with a wound on my haid. Piece o' shell, they
+sez, cut me yere," and he pointed to a scar across his forehead.
+"That's what they tole me. Lor'! I couldn't mek much out o' the
+gibberish I firs' year, en they sez I talked gibberish too. But I
+soon got the hang o' the talk in the hospital. Well, ez I wuz
+sayin', I've allus been in hospitals firs' one, then anuther. I
+got well, en the sojers call me Yankee Blank en set me waitin' on
+sick uns en the wounded. That's what I'm a-doin' now."
+
+"You were in Southern hospitals?"
+
+"I reckon. They called the place Richman."
+
+"Why did you come here?"
+
+"Kaze I wuz bro't yere. They said I was 'changed."
+
+"Exchanged, wasn't it?"
+
+"Reckon it was. Anyhow I wuz bro't yere with a lot o' sick
+fellers. I wuzn't sick. For a long time the doctors kep' a-
+pesterin' me with questions, but they lemme 'lone now. I 'spected
+you wuz a new doctor, en at it agin."
+
+"Don't you remember the village of Alton?"
+
+The man shook his head.
+
+"Don't you--" and Martine's voice grew husky--"don't you remember
+Helen Kemble?"
+
+"A woman?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Never yeared on her. I only reckerlect people I've seen in
+hospitals. Women come foolin' roun' some days, but Lor'! I kin
+beat any on 'em teekin' keer o' the patients; en wen they dies, I
+kin lay 'em out. You ast the wardmaster ef I kant lay out a stiff
+with the best o' 'em."
+
+"That will do. You can go to sleep now."
+
+"All right, Doc. I call everybody doc who asts sech a lot o'
+questions." He shuffled to his cot and was soon asleep.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+"HOW CAN I?"
+
+
+Martine sank into his chair again. Although the conversation had
+been carried on in low tones, it was the voice of Nichol that he
+had heard. Closer inspection of the slightly disfigured face
+proved that, apart from the scar on the forehead, it was the
+countenance of Nichol. A possible solution of the mystery was
+beginning to force itself in Hobart's reluctant mind. When Nichol
+had fallen in the Wilderness, the shock of his injury had rendered
+him senseless and caused him to appear dead to the hasty scrutiny
+of Sam and Jim Wetherby. They were terribly excited and had no
+time for close examination. Nichol might have revived, have been
+gathered up with the Confederate wounded, and sent to Richmond.
+There was dire and tremendous confusion at that period, when
+within the space of two or three days tens of thousands were
+either killed or disabled. In a Southern hospital Nichol might
+have recovered physical health while, from injury to the brain,
+suffering complete eclipse of memory. In this case he would have
+to begin life anew, like a child, and so would pick up the
+vernacular and bearing of the enlisted men with whom he would
+chiefly associate.
+
+Because he remembered nothing and know nothing, he may at first
+have been tolerated as a "cur'ous chap," then employed as he had
+explained. He could take the place of a better man where men were
+greatly needed.
+
+This theory could solve the problem; and Martine's hospital
+experience prepared his mind to understand what would be a
+hopeless mystery to many. He was so fearfully excited that be
+could not remain in the ward. The very proximity to this strange
+being, who had virtually risen from the dead and appeared to him
+of all others, was a sort of torture in itself.
+
+What effect would this discovery have on his relations to Helen?
+He dared not think yet he must think. Already the temptation of
+his life was forming in his mind. His cousin was sleeping; and
+with a wild impatience to escape, to get away from all his kind,
+he stole noiselessly out into the midnight and deserted streets.
+On, on he went, limping he knew not, cared not where, for his
+passion and mental agony drove him hither and thither like a leaf
+before a fitful gale.
+
+"No one knows of this," he groaned. "I can still return and marry
+Helen. But oh, what a secret to carry!"
+
+Then his heart pleaded. "This is not the lover she lost--only a
+horrible, mocking semblance. He has lost his own identity; he does
+not even know himself--would not know her. Ah! I'm not sure of
+that. I would be dead indeed if her dear features did not kindle
+my eyes in recognition. It may be that the sight of her face is
+the one thing essential to restore him. I feel this would be true
+were it my case. But how can I give her up now? How can?--how can
+I? Oh, this terrible journey! No wonder Helen had forebodings. She
+loves me; she is mine. No one else has so good a right. We were to
+be married only a few hours hence. Then she whom I've loved from
+childhood would make my home a heaves on earth. And yet--and yet--
+" Even in the darkness he buried his face in his hands, shuddered,
+moaned, writhed, and grated his teeth in the torment of the
+conflict.
+
+Hour after hour he wavered, now on the point of yielding, then
+stung by conscience into desperate uncertainty. The night was
+cold, the howling wind would have chilled him at another time, but
+during his struggle great drops of sweat often poured from his
+face. Only the eye of God saw that battle, the hardest that was
+fought and won during the war.
+
+At last, when well out of the city, he lifted his agonized eyes
+and saw the beautiful hues of morning tingeing the east.
+Unconsciously, he repeated the sublime, creative words, "Let there
+be light." It came to him. With the vanishing darkness, he
+revolted finally against the thought of any shadows existing
+between him and Helen. She should have all the light that he had,
+and decide her own course. He had little hope that she would wed
+him, even if she did not marry Nichol in his present condition--a
+condition probably only temporary and amenable to skilful
+treatment.
+
+Wearily he dragged his lame foot back to a hotel in the populous
+party of the city, and obtained food and wine, for he was terribly
+exhausted. Next he telegraphed Mr. Kemble:
+
+"Arrived last evening. The wedding will have to be postponed. Will
+explain later."
+
+"It's the best I can do now," he muttered. "Helen will think it is
+all due to my cousin's illness." Then he returned to the hospital
+and found his relative in a state of wonderment at his absence,
+but refreshed from a good night's rest. Yankee Blank was nowhere
+to be seen.
+
+"Hobart," exclaimed his cousin, "you look ill--ten years older
+than you did last night."
+
+"You see me now by daylight," was the quiet reply. "I am not very
+well."
+
+"It's a perfect shame that I've been the cause of so much trouble,
+especially when it wasn't necessary."
+
+"Oh, my God!" thought Martine, "there was even no need of this
+fatal journey." But his face had become grave and inscrutable, and
+the plea of ill-health reconciled his cousin to the necessity of
+immediate return. There was no good reason for his remaining, for
+by a few additional arrangements his relative would do very well
+and soon be able to take care of himself. Martine felt that he
+could not jeopardize his hard-won victory by delay, which was as
+torturing as the time intervening between a desperate surgical
+operation and the knowledge that it is inevitable.
+
+After seeing that his cousin made a good breakfast, he sought a
+private interview with the wardmaster. He was able to extract but
+little information about Yankee Blank more than the man had given
+himself. "Doctors say he may regain his memory at any time, or it
+may be a long while, and possibly never," was the conclusion.
+
+"I think I know him," said Martine. "I will bring physician from
+the city to consult this morning with the surgeon in charge."
+
+"I'm glad to hear it," was the reply. "Something would have to be
+done soon. He is just staying on here and making himself useful to
+some extent."
+
+When Martine re-entered the ward, Yankee Blank appeared, grinned,
+and said affably, "Howdy." Alas! a forlorn, miserable hope that he
+might have been mistaken was banished from Hobart's mind now that
+he saw Nichol in the clear light of day. The scar across his
+forehead and a change of expression, denoting the eclipse of fine,
+cultivated manhood, could not disguise the unmistakable features.
+There was nothing to be done but carry out as quickly as possible
+the purpose which had cost him so dear.
+
+He first telegraphed his uncle to dismiss further anxiety, and
+that his son would soon be able to visit him. Then the heavy-
+hearted man sought a physician whom he knew well by reputation.
+
+The consultation was held, and Nichol (as he may be more properly
+named hereafter) was closely questioned and carefully examined.
+The result merely confirmed previous impressions. It was
+explained, as far as explanation can be given of the mysterious
+functions of the brain, that either the concussion of the
+exploding shell or the wound from a flying fragment had paralyzed
+the organ of memory. When such paralysis would cease, if ever, no
+one could tell. The power to recall everything might return at any
+moment or it might be delayed indefinitely. A shock, a familiar
+face, might supply the potency required, or restoration come
+through the slow, unseen processes of nature. Martine believed
+that Helen's face and voice would accomplish everything.
+
+He was well known to the medical authorities and had no difficulty
+in securing belief that he had identified Nichol. He also promised
+that abundant additional proof should be sent on from Alton, such
+certainty being necessary to secure the officer's back pay and
+proper discharge from the service. The surgeon then addressed the
+man so strangely disabled, "You know I'm in charge of this
+hospital?"
+
+"I reckon," replied Nichol, anxiously, for the brief experience
+which he could recall had taught him that the authority of the
+surgeon-in-chief was autocratic.
+
+"Well, first, you must give up the name of Yankee Blank. Your name
+hereafter is Captain Nichol."
+
+"All right, Doctor. I'll be a gin'ral ef you sez so."
+
+"Very well; remember your name is Captain Nichol. Next, you must
+obey this man and go with him. You must do just what he says in
+all respects. His name is Mr. Hobart Martine."
+
+"Yes, he tole me las' night, Hob't Ma'tine. He took on mighty
+cur'ous after seein' me."
+
+"Do you understand that you are to mind, to obey him in all
+respects just as you have obeyed me?"
+
+"I reckon. Will he tek me to anuther hospital?"
+
+"He will take you where you will be well cared for and treated
+kindly." Having written Nichol's discharge from the hospital, the
+surgeon turned to other duties.
+
+Martine informed his cousin, as far as it was essential, of the
+discovery he had made and of the duties which it imposed, then
+took his leave. Nichol readily accompanied him, and with the
+exception of a tendency to irritation at little things, exhibited
+much of the good-natured docility of a child. Martine took him to
+a hotel, saw that he had a bath, put him in the hands of a barber,
+and then sent for a clothier. When dressed in clean linen and a
+dark civilian suit, the appearance of the man was greatly
+improved. Hobart had set his teeth, and would entertain no thought
+of compromise with his conscience. He would do by Nichol as he
+would wish to be done by if their relations were reversed. Helen
+should receive no greater shock than was inevitable, nor should
+Nichol lose the advantage of appearing before her in the outward
+aspect of a gentleman.
+
+Martine then planned his departure so that he would arrive at
+Alton in the evening--the evening of the day on which he was to
+have been married. He felt that Mr. Kemble should see Nichol first
+and hear the strange story; also that the father must break the
+news to the daughter, for he could not. It was a terrible journey
+to the poor fellow, for during the long hours of inaction he was
+compelled to face the probable results of his discovery. The sight
+of Nichol and his manner was intolerable; and in addition, he was
+almost as much care as a child. Everything struck him as new and
+strange, and he was disposed to ask numberless questions. His
+vernacular, his alternations of amusement and irritation, and the
+oddity of his ignorance concerning things which should be simple
+or familiar to a grown man, attracted the attention of his fellow-
+passengers. It was with difficulty that Martine, by his stern, sad
+face and a cold, repelling manner, kept curiosity from intruding
+at every point.
+
+At last, with heart beating thickly, he saw the lights of Alton
+gleaming in the distance. It was a train not often used by the
+villagers, and fortunately no one had entered the car who knew
+him; even the conductor was a stranger. Alighting at the depot, he
+hastily took a carriage, and with his charge was driven to the
+private entrance of the hotel. Having given the hackman an extra
+dollar not to mention his arrival till morning, he took Nichol
+into the dimly-lighted and deserted parlor and sent for the well-
+known landlord. Mr. Jackson, a bustling little man, who, between
+the gossip of the place and his few guests, never seemed to have a
+moment's quiet, soon entered. "Why, Mr. Martine," he exclaimed,
+"we wasn't a-lookin' for you yet. News got around somehow that
+your cousin was dyin' in Washington and that your weddin' was put
+off too--Why! you look like a ghost, even in this light," and he
+turned up the lamp.
+
+Martine had told Nichol to stand by a window with his back to the
+door. He now turned the key, pulled down the curtain, then drew
+his charge forward where the light fell clear upon his face, and
+asked, "Jackson, who is that?"
+
+The landlord stared, his jaw fell from sheer astonishment, as he
+faltered, "Captain Nichol!"
+
+"Yes," said Nichol, with a pleased grin, "that's my new name! Jes'
+got it, like this new suit o' clo's, bes' I ever had, doggoned ef
+they ain't. My old name was Yankee Blank."
+
+"Great Scott!" ejaculated Jackson; "is he crazy?"
+
+"Look yere," cried Nichol; "don' yer call me crazy or I'll light
+on yer so yer won't fergit it."
+
+"There, there!" said Martine, soothingly, "Mr. Jackson doesn't
+mean any harm. He's only surprised to see you home again."
+
+"Is this home? What's home?"
+
+"It's the town where you were brought up. We'll make you
+understand about it all before long. Now you shall have some
+supper. Mr. Jackson is a warm friend of yours, and will see that
+you have a good one."
+
+"I reckon we'll get on ef he gives me plenty o' fodder. Bring it
+toreckly, fer I'm hungry. Quit yer starin', kyant yer?" "Don't you
+know me, Captain Nichol? Why, I--"
+
+"Naw. Never seed ner yeared on yer. Did I ever nuss yer in a
+hospital? I kyant reckerlect all on 'em. Get we uns some supper."
+
+"That's the thing to do first, Jackson," added Martine, "Show us
+upstairs to a private room and wait on us yourself. Please say
+nothing of this till I give you permission."
+
+They were soon established in a suitable apartment, in which a
+fire was kindled. Nichol took a rocking-chair and acquiesced in
+Martine's going out on the pretext of hastening supper.
+
+The landlord received explanations which enabled him to co-operate
+with Martine. "I could not," said the latter, "take him to his own
+home without first preparing his family. Neither could I take him
+to mine for several reasons."
+
+"I can understand some of 'em, Mr. Martine. Why, great Scott! How
+about your marriage, now that--"
+
+"We won't discuss that subject. The one thing for you to keep in
+mind is that Nichol lost his memory at the time of his wound. He
+don't like to be stared at or thought strange. You must humor him
+much as you would a child. Perhaps the sight of familiar faces and
+scenes will restore him. Now copy this note in your handwriting
+and send it to Mr. Kemble. Tell your messenger to be sure to put
+it into the banker's hands and no other's," and he tore from his
+note-book a leaf on which was pencilled the following words:
+
+"MR. KEMBLE:
+
+"DEAR SIR--A sick man at the hotel wishes to see you on important
+business. Don't think it's bad news about Mr. Martine, because it
+isn't. Please come at once and oblige, HENRY JACKSON."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+SHADOWS OF COMING EVENTS
+
+
+This first day of winter, her fatal wedding-day, was a sad and
+strange one to Helen Kemble. The sun was hidden by dark clouds,
+yet no snow fell on the frozen ground. She had wakened in the
+morning with a start, oppressed by a disagreeable yet forgotten
+dream. Hastily dressing, she consoled herself with the hope of a
+long letter from Martine, explaining everything and assuring her
+of his welfare; but the early mail brought nothing. As the morning
+advanced, a telegram from Washington, purposely delayed, merely
+informed her that her affianced was well and that full information
+was on its way.
+
+"He has evidently found his cousin very low, and needing constant
+care," she had sighingly remarked at dinner.
+
+"Yes, Nellie," said the banker, cheerily, "but it is a comfort he
+is well. No doubt you are right about his cousin, and it has
+turned out as Hobart feared. In this case it is well he went, for
+he would always have reproached himself if he had not. The evening
+mail will probably make all clear."
+
+"It has been so unfortunate!" complained Mrs. Kemble. "If it had
+only happened a little earlier, or a little later! To have all
+one's preparations upset and one's plans frustrated is
+exasperating. Were it not for that journey, Helen would have been
+married by this time. People come ostensibly to express sympathy,
+but in reality to ask questions."
+
+"I don't care about people," said Helen, "but the day has been so
+different from what we expected that it's hard not to yield to a
+presentiment of trouble. It is so dark and gloomy that we almost
+need a lamp at midday."
+
+"Well, well," cried hearty Mr. Kemble, "I'm not going to cross any
+bridges till I come to them. That telegram from Hobart is all we
+need, to date. I look at things as I do at a bank-bill. If its
+face is all right, and the bill itself all right, that's enough.
+You women-folks have such a lot of moods and tenses! Look at this
+matter sensibly. Hobart was right in going. He's doing his duty,
+and soon will be back with mind and conscience at rest. It isn't
+as if he were ill himself."
+
+"Yes, papa, that's just the difference; we women feel, and you men
+reason. What you say, though, is a good wholesome antidote. I fear
+I'm a little morbid to-day."
+
+After dinner she and her mother slipped over to the adjoining
+cottage, which had been made so pretty for her reception. While
+Mrs. Kemble busied herself here and there, Helen kindled a fire on
+the hearth of the sitting-room and sat down in the low chair which
+she knew was designed for her. The belief that she would occupy it
+daily and be at home, happy herself and, better far, making
+another, to whom she owed so much, happy beyond even his fondest
+hope, brought smiles to her face as she watched the flickering
+blaze.
+
+"Yes," she murmured, "I can make him happier even than he dreams.
+I know him so well, his tastes, his habits, what he most enjoys,
+that it will be an easy task to anticipate his wishes and enrich
+his life. Then he has been such a faithful, devoted friend! He
+shall learn that his example had not been lost on me."
+
+At this moment the wind rose in such a long mournful, human-like
+sigh about the house that she started up and almost shuddered.
+When the evening mail came and brought no letter, she found it
+hard indeed not to yield to deep depression. In vain her father
+reasoned with her. "I know all you say sounds true to the ear,"
+she said, "but not to my heart. I can't help it; but I am
+oppressed with a nervous dread of some impending trouble."
+
+They passed the early hours of the evening as best they could,
+seeking to divert each other's thoughts. It had been long since
+the kind old banker was so garrulous, and Helen resolved to reward
+him by keeping up. Indeed, she shrank from retiring, feeling that
+through the sleepless night she would be the prey of all sorts of
+wretched fancies. Never once did her wildest thoughts suggest what
+had happened, or warn her of the tempest soon to rage in her
+breast.
+
+Then came the late messenger with the landlord's copied note. She
+snatched it from the bearer's hand before he could ring the bell,
+for her straining ears had heard his step even on the gravel walk.
+Tremblingly she tore open, the envelope in the hall without
+looking at the address.
+
+"Mr. Jackson said how I was to give it to your father," protested
+the messenger.
+
+"Well, well," responded Mr. Kemble, perturbed and anxious, "I'm
+here. You can go unless there's an answer required.'
+
+"Wasn't told nothin' 'bout one," growled the departing errand-boy.
+
+"Give the note to me, Helen," said her father. "Why do you stare
+at it so?"
+
+She handed it to him without a word, but looked searchingly in his
+face, and so did his wife, who had joined him.
+
+"Why, this is rather strange," he said.
+
+"I think it is," added Helen, emphatically.
+
+Mrs. Kemble took the note and after a moment ejaculated: "Well,
+thank the Lord! it isn't about Hobart."
+
+"No, no," said the banker, almost irritably. "We've all worried
+about Hobart till in danger of making fools of ourselves. As if
+people never get sick and send for relatives, or as if letters
+were never delayed! Why, bless me! haven't we heard to-day that he
+was well? and hasn't Jackson, who knows more about other people's
+business than his own, been considerate enough to say that his
+request has nothing to do with Hobart? It is just as he says, some
+one is sick and wants to arrange about money matters before
+banking hours to-morrow. There, it isn't far. I'll soon be back."
+
+"Let me go with you, father," pleaded Helen. "I can stay with Mrs.
+Jackson or sit in the parlor till you are through."
+
+"Oh, no, indeed."
+
+"Papa, I AM going with you," said Helen, half-desperately. "I
+don't believe I am so troubled for nothing. Perhaps it's a
+merciful warning, and I may be of use to you."
+
+"Oh, let her go, father," said his wife. "She had better be with
+you than nervously worrying at home. I'll be better satisfied if
+she is with you."
+
+"Bundle up well, then, and come along, you silly little girl."
+
+Nichol was too agreeably occupied with his supper to miss Hobart,
+who watched in the darkened parlor for the coming of Mr. Kemble.
+At last he saw the banker passing through the light streaming from
+a shop-window, and also recognized Helen at his side. His ruse in
+sending a note purporting to come from the landlord had evidently
+failed; and here was a new complication. He was so exhausted in
+body and mind that he felt he could not meet the girl now without
+giving way utterly. Hastily returning to the room in which were
+Nichol and Jackson, he summoned the latter and said,
+"Unfortunately, Miss Kemble is coming with her father. Keep your
+counsel; give me a light in another private room; detain the young
+lady in the parlor, and then, bring Mr. Kemble to me."
+
+"Ah, glad to see you, Mr. Kemble," said the landlord, a moment or
+two later, with reassuring cheerfulness; "you too, Miss Helen.
+That's right, take good care of the old gentleman. Yes, we have a
+sick man here who wants to see you, sir. Miss Helen, take a seat
+in the parlor by the fire while I turn up the lamp. Guess you
+won't have to wait long."
+
+"Now, Helen," said her father, smiling at her significantly, "can
+you trust me out of your sight to go upstairs with Mr. Jackson?"
+
+Much relieved, she smiled in return and sat down to wait.
+
+"Who is this man, Jackson?" Mr. Kemble asked on the stairs.
+
+"Well, sir, he said he would explain everything."
+
+A moment later the banker needed not Martine's warning gesture
+enjoining silence, for he was speechless with astonishment.
+
+"Mr. Jackson," whispered Martine, "will you please remain in the
+other room and look after your patient?"
+
+"Hobart," faltered Mr. Kemble, "in the name of all that's strange,
+what does this mean?"
+
+"It is indeed very strange, sir. You must summon all your nerve
+and fortitude to help us through. Never before were your strength
+and good strong common-sense more needed. I've nearly reached the
+end of my endurance. Please, sir, for Helen's sake, preserve your
+self-control and the best use of all your faculties, for you must
+now advise. Mr. Kemble, Captain Nichol is alive."
+
+The banker sank into a chair and groaned. "This would have been
+glad news to me once; I suppose it should be so now. But how, how
+can this be?"
+
+"Well, sir, as you say, it should be glad news; it will be to all
+eventually. I am placed in a very hard position; but I have tried
+to do my duty, and will."
+
+"Why, Hobart, my boy, you look more worn than you did after your
+illness. Merciful Heaven! what a complication!"
+
+"A far worse one than you can even imagine. Captain Nichol
+wouldn't know you. His memory was destroyed at the time of the
+injury. All before that is gone utterly;" and Martine rapidly
+narrated what is already known to the reader, concluding, "I'm
+sorry Helen came with you, and I think you had better get her home
+as soon as possible. I could not take him to my home for several
+reasons, or at least I thought it best not to. It is my belief
+that the sight of Helen, the tones of her voice, will restore him;
+and I do not think it best for him to regain his consciousness of
+the past in a dwelling prepared for Helen's reception as my wife.
+Perhaps later on, too, you will understand why I cannot see him
+there. I shall need a home, a refuge with no such associations.
+Here, on this neutral ground, I thought we could consult, and if
+necessary send for his parents to-night. I would have telegraphed
+you, but the case is so complicated, so difficult. Helen must be
+gradually prepared for the part she must take. Cost me what it
+may, Nichol must have his chance. His memory may come back
+instantly and he recall everything to the moment of his injury.
+What could be more potent to effect this than the sight and voice
+of Helen? No one here except Jackson is now aware of his
+condition. If she can restore him, no one else, not even his
+parents, need know anything about it, except in a general way. It
+will save a world of disagreeable talk and distress. At any rate,
+this course seemed the best I could hit upon in my distracted
+condition."
+
+"Well, Hobart, my poor young friend, you have been tried as by
+fire," said Mr. Kemble, in a voice broken by sympathy; "God help
+you and guide us all in this strange snarl! I feel that the first
+thing to be done is to get Helen home. Such tidings as yours
+should be broken to her in that refuge only."
+
+"I agree with you most emphatically, Mr. Kemble. In the seclusion
+of her own home, with none present except yourself and her mother,
+she should face this thing and nerve herself to act her part, the
+most important of all. If she cannot awaken Captain Nichol's
+memory, it is hard to say what will, or when he will be restored."
+
+"Possibly seeing me, so closely associated with her, may have the
+same effect," faltered the banker.
+
+"I doubt it; but we can try it. Don't expect me to speak while in
+the hallway. Helen, no doubt, is on the alert, and I cannot meet
+her to-night. I am just keeping up from sheer force of will. You
+must try to realize it. This discovery will change everything for
+me. Helen's old love will revive in all-absorbing power. I've
+faced this in thought, but cannot in reality NOW--I simply CANNOT.
+It would do no good. My presence would be an embarrassment to her,
+and I taxed beyond mortal endurance. You may think me weak, but I
+cannot help it. As soon as possible I must put you, and if you
+think best, Captain Nichol's father, in charge of the situation.
+Jackson can send for his father at once if you wish."
+
+"I do wish it immediately. I can't see my way through this. I
+would like Dr. Barnes' advice and presence also."
+
+"I think it would be wise, sir. The point I wish to make is that I
+have done about all that I now can in this affair. My further
+presence is only another complication. At any rate, I must have a
+respite--the privilege of going quietly to my own home as soon as
+possible."
+
+"Oh, Hobart, my heart aches for you; it just ACHES for you. You
+have indeed been called upon to endure a hundredfold too much in
+this strange affair. How it will all end God only knows. I
+understand you sufficiently. Leave the matter to me now. We will
+have Dr. Barnes and Mr. and Mrs. Nichol here as soon as can be. I
+suppose I had better see the captain a few moments and then take
+Helen home."
+
+Martine led the way into the other apartment, where Nichol,
+rendered good-natured by his supper and a cigar, was conversing
+sociably with the landlord. Mr. Kemble fairly trembled as he came
+forward, involuntarily expecting that the man so well known to him
+must give some sign of recognition.
+
+Nichol paid no heed to him. He had been too long accustomed to see
+strangers coming and going to give them either thought or
+attention.
+
+"I say, Hob't Ma'tine," he began, "don' yer cuss me fer eatin' all
+the supper. I 'lowed ter this Jackson, as yer call 'im, that yer'd
+get a bite somewhar else, en he 'lowed yer would."
+
+"All right, Nichol; I'm glad you had a good supper."
+
+"I say, Jackson, this Ma'tine's a cur'ous chap--mo cur'ous than I
+be, I reckon. He's been actin' cur'ous ever since he seed me in
+the horspital. It's all cur'ous. 'Fore he come, doctors en folks
+was trying ter fin' out 'bout me, en this Ma'tine 'lows he knows
+all 'bout me. Ef he wuzn't so orful glum, he'd be a good chap
+anuff, ef he is cur'ous. Hit's all a-changin' somehow, en yet'
+tisn't. Awhile ago nobody knowd 'bout me, en they wuz allus a-
+pesterin' of me with questions. En now Ma'tine en you 'low you
+know 'bout me, yet you ast questions jes' the same. Like anuff
+this man yere," pointing with his cigar to Mr. Kemble, who was
+listening with a deeply-troubled face, "knows 'bout me too, yet
+wants to ast questions. I don' keer ef I do say it, I had better
+times with the Johnnies that call me Yankee Blank than I ever had
+sence. Well, ole duffer [to Mr. Kemble], ast away and git yer load
+off'n yer mind. I don't like glum faces roun' en folks jes'
+nachelly bilin' over with questions."
+
+"No, Captain Nichol," said the banker, gravely and sadly, "I've no
+questions to ask. Good-by for the present."
+
+Nichol nodded a careless dismissal and resumed his reminiscences
+with Jackson, whose eager curiosity and readiness to laugh were
+much more to his mind.
+
+Following the noise made by closing the door, Helen's voice rang
+up from the hall below, "Papa!"
+
+"Yes, I'm coming, dear," he tried to answer cheerily. Then he
+wrung Martine's hand and whispered, "Send for Dr. Barnes. God
+knows you should have relief. Tell Jackson also to have a carriage
+go for Mr. Nichol at once. After the doctor comes you may leave
+all in our hands. Good-by."
+
+Martine heard the rustle of a lady's dress and retired
+precipitately.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+"YOU CANNOT UNDERSTAND"
+
+
+With an affectation of briskness he was far from feeling, Mr.
+Kemble came down the stairs and joined his daughter in the hall.
+He had taken pains to draw his hat well over his eyes,
+anticipating and dreading her keen scrutiny, but, strange to say,
+his troubled demeanor passed unnoticed. In the interval of waiting
+Helen's thoughts had taken a new turn. "Well, papa," she began, as
+they passed into the street, "I am curious to know about the sick
+man. You stayed an age, but all the same I'm glad I came with you.
+Forebodings, presentiments, and all that kind of thing seemed
+absurd the moment I saw Jackson's keen, mousing little visage. His
+very voice is like a ray of garish light entering a dusky, haunted
+room. Things suggesting ghosts and hobgoblins become ridiculously
+prosaic, and you are ashamed of yourself and your fears."
+
+"Yes, yes," replied Mr. Kemble, yielding to irritation in his deep
+perplexity, "the more matter-of-fact we are the better we're off.
+I suppose the best thing to do is just to face what happens and
+try to be brave."
+
+"Well, papa, what's happened to annoy you to-night? Is this sick
+man going to make you trouble?"
+
+"Like enough. I hope not. At any rate, he has claims which I must
+meet."
+
+"Don't you think you can meet them?" was her next anxious query,
+her mind reverting to some financial obligation.
+
+"We'll see. You and mother'll have to help me out, I guess. I'll
+tell you both when we get home;" and his sigh was so deep as to be
+almost a groan.
+
+"Papa," said Helen, earnestly pressing his arm, "don't worry.
+Mamma and I will stand by you; so will Hobart. He is the last one
+in the world to desert one in any kind of trouble."
+
+"I know that, no one better; but I fear he'll be in deeper trouble
+than any of us. The exasperating thing is that there should be any
+trouble at all. If it had only happened before--well, well, I
+can't talk here in the street. As you say, you must stand by me,
+and I'll do the best I can by you and all concerned."
+
+"Oh, papa, there was good cause for my foreboding."
+
+"Well, yes, and no. I don't know. I'm at my wits' end. If you'll
+be brave and sensible, you can probably do more than any of us."
+
+"Papa, papa, something IS the matter with Hobart," and she drew
+him hastily into the house, which they had now reached.
+
+Mrs. Kemble met them at the door. Alarmed at her husband's
+troubled face, she exclaimed anxiously, "Who is this man? What did
+he want?"
+
+"Come now, mother, give me a chance to get my breath. We'll close
+the doors, sit down, and talk it all over."
+
+Mrs. Kemble and her daughter exchanged an apprehensive glance and
+followed with the air of being prepared for the worst.
+
+The banker sat down and wiped the perspiration from his brow, then
+looked dubiously at the deeply anxious faces turned toward him.
+"Well," he said, "I'm going to tell you everything as far as I
+understand it. Now I want to see if you two can't listen calmly
+and quietly and not give way to useless feeling. There's much to
+be done, and you especially, Helen, must be in the right condition
+to do it."
+
+"Oh, papa, why torture me so? Something HAS happened to Hobart. I
+can't endure this suspense."
+
+"Something has happened to us all," replied her father, gravely.
+"Hobart has acted like a hero, like a saint; so must you. He is as
+well and able to go about as you are. I've seen him and talked
+with him."
+
+"He saw you and not me?" cried the girl, starting up.
+
+"Helen, I entreat, I command you to be composed and listen
+patiently. Don't you know him well enough to be sure he had good
+reasons--"
+
+"I can't imagine a reason," was the passionate reply, as she paced
+the floor. "What reason could keep me from him? Merciful Heaven!
+father, have you forgotten that I was to marry him to-day? Well,"
+she added hoarsely, standing before him with hands clinched in her
+effort at self-restraint, "the reason?"
+
+"Poor fellow! poor fellow! he has not forgotten it," groaned Mr.
+Kemble. "Well, I might as well out with it. Suppose Captain Nichol
+was not killed after all?"
+
+Helen sank into a chair as if struck down as Nichol had been
+himself. "What!" she whispered; and her face was white indeed.
+
+Mrs. Kemble rushed to her husband, demanding, "Do you mean to tell
+us that Captain Nichol is alive?"
+
+"Yes; that's just the question we've got to face."
+
+"It brings up another question," replied his wife, sternly. "If
+he's been alive all this time, why did he not let us know? As far
+as I can make out, Hobart has found him in Washington--"
+
+"Helen," cried her father to the trembling girl, "for Heaven's
+sake, be calm!"
+
+"He's alive, ALIVE!" she answered, as if no other thought could
+exist in her mind. Her eyes were kindling, the color coming into
+her face, and her bosom throbbed quickly as if her heart would
+burst its bonds. Suddenly she rushed to her father, exclaiming,
+"He was the sick man. Oh, why did you not let me see him?"
+
+"Well, well!" ejaculated Mr. Kemble, "Hobart was right, poor
+fellow! Yes, Helen, Captain Nichol is the sick man, not
+dangerously ill, however. You are giving ample reason why you
+should not see him yet; and I tell you plainly you can't see him
+till you are just as composed as I am."
+
+She burst into a joyous, half-hysterical laugh as she exclaimed,
+"That's not asking much. I never saw you so moved, papa. Little
+wonder! The dead is alive again! Oh, papa, papa, you don't
+understand me at all! Could I hear such tidings composedly--I who
+have wept so many long nights and days over his death? I must give
+expression to overwhelming feeling here where it can do no harm,
+but if I had seen him--when I do see him--ah! he'll receive no
+harm from me."
+
+"But, Helen, think of Hobart," cried Mrs. Kemble, in sharp
+distress.
+
+"Mother, mother, I cannot help it. Albert is alive, ALIVE! The old
+feeling comes back like the breaking up of the fountains of the
+great deep. You cannot know, cannot understand; Hobart will. I'm
+sorry, SORRY for him; but he will understand. I thought Albert was
+dead; I wanted to make Hobart happy. He was so good and kind and
+deserving that I did love him in a sincere, quiet way, but not
+with my first love, not as I loved Albert. I thought my love was
+buried with him; but it has burst the grave as he has. Papa, papa,
+let me go to him, now, NOW! You say he is sick; it is my place to
+nurse him back to life. Who has a better right? Why do you not
+bring him here?"
+
+"Perhaps it will be best, since Helen feels so," said Mr. Kemble,
+looking at his wife.
+
+"Well, I don't know," she replied with a deep sigh. "We certainly
+don't wish the public to be looking on any more than we can help.
+He should be either here or at his own home."
+
+"There's more reason for what you say than you think," Mr. Kemble
+began.
+
+"There, papa," interrupted Helen, "I'd be more or less than human
+if I could take! this undreamed-of news quietly, I can see how
+perplexed and troubled you've been, and how you've kindly tried to
+prepare me for the tidings. You will find that I have strength of
+mind to meet all that is required of me. It is all simpler to me
+than to you, for in a matter of this kind the heart is the guide,
+indeed, the only guide. Think! If Albert had come back months ago;
+if Hobart had brought him back wounded and disabled--how would we
+have acted? Only our belief in his death led to what has happened
+since, and the fact of life changes everything back to--"
+
+"Now, Helen, stop and listen to me," said her father, firmly. "In
+one sense the crisis is over, and you've heard the news which I
+scarcely knew how to break to you. You say you will have strength
+of mind to meet what is required of you. I trust you may. But it's
+time you understood the situation as far as I do. Mother's words
+show she's off the track in her suspicion. Nichol is not to blame
+in any sense. He is deserving of all sympathy, and yet--oh, dear,
+it is such a complication!" and the old man groaned as he thought
+of the personality who best knew himself as Yankee Blank. "The
+fact is," he resumed to his breathless listeners, "Nichol is not
+ill at all physically. His mind is affected--"
+
+Mrs. Kemble sank back in her chair, and Helen uttered a cry of
+dismay.
+
+"Yes, his mind is affected peculiarly. He remembers nothing that
+happened before he was wounded. You must realize this, Helen; you
+must prepare yourself for it. His loss of memory is much more sad
+than if he had lost an arm or a leg. He remembers only what he has
+picked up since his injury."
+
+"Then, then, he's not insane?" gasped Helen.
+
+"No, no, I should say not," replied her father, dubiously; "yet
+his words and manner produce much the same effect as if he were--
+even a stronger effect."
+
+"Oh, this is dreadful!" cried his wife.
+
+"Dreadful indeed, but not hopeless, you know. Keep in mind doctors
+say that his memory may come back at any time; and Hobart has the
+belief that the sight and voice of Helen will bring it back."
+
+"God bless Hobart," said Helen, with a deep breath, "and God help
+him! His own love inspired that belief. He's right; I know he's
+right."
+
+"Well, perhaps he is. I don't know. I thought Nichol would
+recognize me; but there wasn't a sign."
+
+"Oh, papa," cried Helen, smiling through her tears, "there are
+some things which even your experience and wisdom fail in. Albert
+will know me. We have talked long enough; now let us act."
+
+"You don't realize it all yet, Helen; you can't. You must remember
+that Nichol regained consciousness in a Southern hospital. He has
+learned to talk and act very much like such soldiers as would
+associate with him."
+
+"The fact that he's alive and that I now may restore him is
+enough, papa."
+
+"Well, I want Dr. Barnes present when you meet him."
+
+"Certainly; at least within call."
+
+"I must stipulate too," said Mrs. Kemble. "I don't wish the coming
+scenes to take place in a hotel, and under the eyes of that
+gossip, Jackson. I don't see why Hobart took him there."
+
+"I do," said Mr. Kemble, standing up for his favorite. "Hobart has
+already endured more than mortal man ought, yet he has been most
+delicately considerate. No one but Jackson and Dr. Barnes know
+about Nichol and his condition. I have also had Nichol's father
+and mother sent for on my own responsibility, for they should take
+their share of the matter. Hobart believes that Helen can restore
+Nichol's memory. This would simplify everything and save many
+painful impressions. You see, it's such an obscure trouble, and
+there should be no ill-advised blundering in the matter. The
+doctors in Washington told Hobart that a slight shock, or the
+sight of an object that once had the strongest hold upon his
+thoughts--well, you understand."
+
+"Yes," said Helen, "I DO understand. Hobart is trying to give
+Albert the very best chance. Albert wrote that his last earthly
+thoughts would be of me. It is but natural that my presence should
+kindle those thoughts again. It was like Hobart, who is almost
+divine in his thoughtfulness of others, to wish to shield Albert
+from the eyes of even his own father and mother until he could
+know them, and know us all. He was only taken to the hotel that we
+all might understand and be prepared to do our part. Papa, bring
+Albert here and let his father and mother come here also. He
+should be sacredly shielded in his infirmity, and give a every
+chance to recover before being seen by others; and please, papa,
+exact from Jackson a solemn promise not to tattle about Albert."
+
+"Yes, yes; but we have first a duty to perform. Mother, please
+prepare a little lunch, and put a glass of your old currant wine
+on the tray. Hobart must not come to a cold, cheerless home. I'll
+go and have his old servant up and ready to receive him."
+
+"No, mamma, that is still my privilege," said Helen, with a rush,
+of tears. "Oh, I'm so sorry, SORRY for him! but neither he nor I
+can help or change what is, what's true."
+
+When the tray was ready, she wrote and sealed these words:
+
+"God bless you, Hobart; God reward you! You have made me feel to-
+night that earth is too poor, and only heaven rich enough to
+reward you.
+
+"HELEN."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+MR. KEMBLE'S APPEAL
+
+
+It often happens that the wife's disposition is an antidote to her
+husband: and this was fortunately true of Mrs. Jackson. She was
+neither curious nor gossiping, and with a quick instinct that
+privacy was desired by Martine, gave at an early hour her orders
+to close the house for the night. The few loungers, knowing that
+she was autocratic, slouched off to other resorts. The man and
+maids of all work were kept out of the way, while she and her
+husband waited on their unexpected guests. After Mr. Kemble's
+departure, the errand-boy was roused from his doze behind the
+stove and seat for Dr. Barnes; then Jackson wrote another note at
+Martine's dictation:
+
+"MR. WILLIAM NICHOL:
+
+"DEAR SIR--A relative of yours is sick at my house. He came on the
+evening train. You and your wife had better come at once in the
+carriage."
+
+Martine retired to the room in which he had seen Mr. Kemble, that
+he might compose himself before meeting the physician. The sound
+of Helen's voice, the mere proximity of the girl who at this hour
+was to have been his wife had not "old chaos" come again for him,
+were by no means "straws" in their final and crushing weight.
+Motionless, yet with mind verging on distraction, he sat in the
+cold, dimly lighted room until aroused by the voice of Dr. Barnes.
+
+"Why, Hobart!" cried his old friend, starting at the bloodshot
+eyes and pallid face of the young man, "what is the matter? You
+need me, sure enough, but why on earth are you shivering in this
+cold room at the hotel?"
+
+Martine again said to Jackson: "Don't leave him," and closed the
+door. Then, to the physician: "Dr. Barnes, I am ill and worn-out.
+I know it only too well. You must listen carefully while I in
+brief tell you why you were sent for; then you and others must
+take charge and act as you think best. I'm going home. I must have
+rest and a respite. I must be by myself;" and he rapidly began to
+sketch his experiences in Washington.
+
+"Hold!" said the sensible old doctor, who indulged in only a few
+strong exclamations of surprise, which did not interrupt the
+speaker, "hold! You say you left the ward to think it over, after
+being convinced that you had discovered Nichol. Did you think it
+over quietly?"
+
+"Quietly!" repeated Martine, with intense bitterness. "Would a
+man, not a mummy, think over such a thing quietly? Judge me as you
+please, but I was tempted as I believe never man was before. I
+fought the Devil till morning."
+
+"I thought as much," said the doctor, grasping Martine's hand,
+then slipping a finger on his pulse. "You fought on foot too,
+didn't you?"
+
+"Yes, I walked the streets as if demented."
+
+"Of course. That in part accounts for your exhaustion. Have you
+slept much since?"
+
+"Oh, Doctor, let me get through and go home!"
+
+"No, Hobart, you can't get through with me till I am with you. My
+dear fellow, do you think that I don't understand and sympathize
+with you? There's no reason why you should virtually risk your
+life for Captain Nichol again. Take this dose of quinine at once,
+and then proceed. I can catch on rapidly. First answer, how much
+have you slept since?"
+
+"The idea of sleep! You can remedy this, Doctor, after my part in
+this affair is over. I must finish now. Helen may return, and I
+cannot meet her, nor am I equal to seeing Mr. and Mrs. Nichol. My
+head feels queer, but I'll get through somehow, if the strain is
+not kept up too long;" and he finished in outline his story. In
+conclusion he said, "You will understand that you are now to have
+charge of Nichol. He is prepared by his experience to obey you,
+for he has always been in hospitals, where the surgeon's will is
+law. Except with physicians, he has a sort of rough waywardness,
+learned from the soldiers."
+
+"Yes, I understand sufficiently now to manage. You put him in my
+charge, then go home, and I'll visit you as soon as I can."
+
+"One word more, Doctor. As far as you think best, enjoin reticence
+on Jackson. If the sight of Helen restores Nichol, as I believe it
+will, little need ever be said about his present condition.
+Jackson would not dare to disobey a physician's injunction."
+
+"Don't you dare disobey them, either. I'll manage him too. Come."
+
+Nichol had slept a good deal during the latter part of his
+journey, and now was inclined to wakefulness--a tendency much
+increased by his habit of waiting on hospital patients at night.
+In the eager and curious Jackson he had a companion to his mind,
+who stimulated in him a certain child-like vanity.
+
+"Hello, Ma'tine," he said, "ye're gittin' tired o' me, I reckon,
+ye're off so much. I don't keer. This yere Jackson's a lively
+cuss, en I 'low we'll chin till mawnin'."
+
+"Yes, Nichol, Mr. Jackson is a good friend of yours; and here is
+another man who is more than a friend. You remember what the
+surgeon at the hospital said to you?"
+
+"I reckon," replied Nichol, anxiously. "Hain't I minded yer
+tetotally?"
+
+"Yes, you have done very well indeed--remarkably well, since you
+knew I was not a doctor. Now this man is a doctor--the doctor I
+was to bring you to. You won't have to mind me any more, but you
+must mind this man, Dr. Barnes, in all respects, just as you did
+the doctors in the hospitals. As long as you obey him carefully he
+will be very good to you."
+
+"Oh, I'll mind, Doctor," said Nichol, rising and assuming the
+respectful attitude of a hospital nurse. "We uns wuz soon larned
+that't wuzn't healthy to go agin the doctor. When I wuz Yankee
+Blank, 'fo' I got ter be cap'n, I forgot ter give a Johnny a doze
+o' med'cine, en I'm doggoned ef the doctor didn't mek me tek it
+myse'f. Gee wiz! sech a time ez I had! Hain't give the doctors no
+trouble sence."
+
+"All right, Captain Nichol," said Dr. Barnes, quietly, "I
+understand my duties, and I see that you understand yours. As you
+say, doctors must be obeyed, and I already see that you won't make
+me or yourself any trouble. Good-night, Hobart, I'm in charge
+now."
+
+"Good-night, Doctor. Mr. Jackson, I'm sure you will carry out Dr.
+Barnes' wishes implicitly."
+
+"Yer'd better, Jackson," said Nichol, giving him a wink. "A doctor
+kin give yer high ole jinks ef ye're not keerful."
+
+Martine now obeyed the instinct often so powerful in the human
+breast as well as in dumb animals, and sought the covert, the
+refuge of his home, caring little whether he was to live or die.
+When he saw the lighted windows of Mr. Kemble's residence, he
+moaned as if in physical pain. A sudden and immeasurable longing
+to see, to speak with Helen once before she was again irrevocably
+committed to Nichol, possessed him. He even went to her gate to
+carry out his impulse, then curbed himself and returned resolutely
+to his dwelling. As soon as his step was on the porch, the door
+opened and Mr. Kemble gave him the warm grasp of friendship.
+Without a word, the two men entered the sitting-room, sat down by
+the ruddy fire, and looked at each other, Martine with intense,
+questioning anxiety in his haggard face. The banker nodded gravely
+as he said, "Yes, she knows."
+
+"It's as I said it would be?" Martine added huskily, after a
+moment or two.
+
+"Well, my friend, she said you would understand her better than
+any one else. She wrote you this note."
+
+Martine's hands so trembled that he could scarcely break the seal.
+He sat looking at the tear-blurred words some little time, and
+grew evidently calmer, then faltered, "Yes, it's well to remember
+God at such a time. He has laid heavy burdens upon me. He is
+responsible for them, not I. If I break, He also will be
+responsible."
+
+"Hobart," said Mr. Kemble, earnestly, "you must not break under
+this, for our sake as well as your own. I have the presentiment
+that we shall all need you yet, my poor girl perhaps most of all.
+She doesn't, she can't realize it. Now, the dead is alive again.
+Old girlish impulses and feelings are asserting themselves. As is
+natural, she is deeply excited; but this tidal wave of feeling
+will pass, and then she will have to face both the past and
+future. I know her well enough to be sure she could never be happy
+if this thing wrecked you. And then, Hobart," and the old man sank
+his voice to a whisper, "suppose--suppose Nichol continues the
+same."
+
+"He cannot," cried Martine, almost desperately. "Oh, Mr. Kemble,
+don't suggest any hope for me. My heart tells me there is none,
+that there should not be any. No, she loved him as I have loved
+her from childhood. She is right. I do understand her so well that
+I know what the future will be."
+
+"Well," said Mr. Kemble, firmly, as he rose, "she shall never
+marry him as he is, with my consent. I don't feel your confidence
+about Helen's power to restore him. I tell you, Hobart, I'm in
+sore straits. Helen is the apple of my eye. She is the treasure of
+our old age. God knows I remember what you have done for her and
+for us in the past; and I feel that we shall need you in the
+future. You've become like a son to mother and me, and you must
+stand by us still. Our need will keep you up and rally you better
+than all Dr. Barnes' medicine. I know you well enough to know
+that. But take the medicine all the same; and above all things,
+don't give way to anything like recklessness and despair. As you
+say, God has imposed the burden. Let him give you the strength to
+bear it, and other people's burdens too, as you have in the past.
+I must go now. Don't fail me."
+
+Wise old Mr. Kemble had indeed proved the better physician. His
+misgivings, fears, and needs, combined with his honest affection,
+had checked the cold, bitter flood of despair which had been
+overwhelming Martine. The morbid impression that he would be only
+another complication, and of necessity an embarrassment to Helen
+and her family, was in a measure removed. Mere words of general
+condolence would not have helped him; an appeal like that to the
+exhausted soldier, and the thought that the battle for him was not
+yet over, stirred the deep springs of his nature and slowly
+kindled the purpose to rally and be ready. He rose, ate a little
+of the food, drank the wine, then looked around the beautiful
+apartment prepared for her who was to have been his wife, "I have
+grown weak and reckless," he said. "I ought to have known her well
+enough--I do know her so well--as to be sure that I would cloud
+her happiness if this thing destroyed me."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+"YOU MUST REMEMBER"
+
+
+Mr. And Mrs. Nichol wonderingly yet promptly complied with the
+request for their presence, meantime casting about in their minds
+as to the identity of the relative who had summoned them so
+unexpected. Mr. Kemble arrived at the hotel at about the same
+moment as they did, and Jackson was instructed to keep the
+carriage in waiting. "It was I who sent for you and your wife,"
+said the banker. "Mr. Martine, if possible, would have given you
+cause for a great joy only; but I fear it must be tempered with an
+anxiety which I trust will not be long continued;" and he led the
+way into the parlor.
+
+"Is it--can it be about Albert?" asked Mrs. Nichols trembling, and
+sinking into a chair.
+
+"Yes, Mrs. Nichol. Try to keep your fortitude, for perhaps his
+welfare depends upon it."
+
+"Oh, God be praised! The hope of this never wholly left me,
+because they didn't find his body."
+
+Dr. Barnes came down at once, and with Mr. Kemble tried to soothe
+the strong emotions of the parents, while at the same time
+enlightening them as to their son's discovery and condition.
+
+"Well," said Mr. Nichol, in strong emphasis; "Hobart Martine is
+one of a million."
+
+"I think he ought to have brought Albert right to me first," Mrs.
+Nichol added, shaking her head and wiping her eyes. "After all, a
+mother's claim--"
+
+"My dear Mrs. Nichol," interrupted Dr. Barnes, "there was no
+thought of undervaluing your claim on the part of our friend
+Hobart. He has taken what he believed, and what physicians led him
+to believe, was the best course to restore your son. Besides, Mr.
+Martine is a very sick man. Even now he needs my attention more
+than Captain Nichol. You must realize that he was to have married
+Miss Kemble to-day; yet he brings back your son, sends for Mr.
+Kemble in order that his daughter, as soon as she can realize the
+strange truth, may exert her power. He himself has not seen the
+girl who was to have been his bride."
+
+"Wife, wife," said Mr. Nichol, brokingly, "no mortal man could do
+more for us than Hobart Martine, God bless him!"
+
+"Mrs. Nichol," began Mr. Kemble, "my wife and Helen both unite in
+the request that you and your husband bring your son at once to
+our house; perhaps you would rather meet him in the privacy--"
+
+"Oh, no, no!" she cried, "I cannot wait. Please do not think I am
+insensible to all this well-meant kindness; but a mother's heart
+cannot wait. He'll know ME--me who bore him and carried him on my
+breast."
+
+"Mrs. Nichol, you shall see him at once," said the doctor. "I hope
+it will be as you say; but I'm compelled to tell you that you may
+be disappointed. There's no certainty that this trouble will pass
+away at once under any one's influence. You and your husband come
+with me. Mr. Kemble, I will send Jackson down, and so secure the
+privacy which you would kindly provide. I will be present, for I
+may be needed."
+
+He led the way, the mother following with the impetuosity and
+abandon of maternal love, and the father with stronger and
+stranger emotions than he had ever known, but restrained in a
+manner natural to a quiet, reticent man. They were about to greet
+one on whom they had once centred their chief hopes and affection,
+yet long mourned as dead. It is hard to imagine the wild tumult of
+their feelings. Not merely by words, but chiefly by impulse,
+immediate action, could they reveal how profoundly they were
+moved.
+
+With kindly intention, as he opened the door of the apartment, the
+doctor began, "Mr. Jackson, please leave us a few--"
+
+Mrs. Nichol saw her son and rushed upon him, crying, "Albert,
+Albert!" It was enough at that moment that she recognized him; and
+the thought that he would not recognize her was banished. With an
+intuition of heart beyond all reasoning, she felt that he who had
+drawn his life from her must know her and respond to nature's
+first strong tie.
+
+In surprise, Nichol had risen, then was embarrassed to find an
+elderly woman sobbing on his breast and addressing him in broken,
+endearing words by a name utterly unfamiliar. He looked
+wonderingly at his father, who stood near, trembling and regarding
+him through tear-dimmed eyes with an affectionate interest,
+impressive even to his limited perceptions.
+
+"Doctor," he began over his mother's head, "what in thunder does
+all this here mean? Me 'n' Jackson was chinnin' comf't'bly, when
+sud'n you uns let loose on me two crazy old parties I never seed
+ner yeared on. Never had folks go on so 'bout me befo'. Beats even
+that Hob't Ma'tine," and he showed signs of rising irritation.
+
+"Albert, Albert!" almost shrieked Mrs. Nichol, "don't you know
+me--ME, your own mother?"
+
+"Naw."
+
+At the half-indignant, incredulous tone, yet more than all at the
+strange accent and form of this negative, the poor woman was
+almost beside herself. "Merciful God!" she cried, "this cannot
+be;" and she sank into a chair, sobbing almost hysterically.
+
+For reasons of his own, Dr. Barnes did not interfere. Nature in
+powerful manifestations was actuating the parents; and he decided,
+now that things had gone so far, to let the entire energy of
+uncurbed emotion, combined with all the mysterious affinity of the
+closest kinship, exert its influence on the clogged brain of his
+patient.
+
+For a few moments Mrs. Nichol was too greatly overcome to
+comprehend anything clearly; her husband, on the other hand, was
+simply wrought up to his highest capacity for action. His old
+instinct of authority returned, and he seized his son's hand and
+began, "Now, see here, Albert, you were wounded in your head--"
+
+"Yes, right yere," interrupted Nichol, pointing to his scar. "I
+knows all 'bout that, but I don't like these goin's on, ez ef I
+wuz a nachel-bawn fool, en had ter bleve all folks sez. I've been
+taken in too often. When I wuz with the Johnnies they'd say ter
+me, 'Yankee Blank, see that ar critter? That's a elephant.' When
+I'd call it a elephant, they'd larf an' larf till I flattened out
+one feller's nose. I dunno nothin' 'bout elephants; but the
+critter they pinted at wuz a cow. Then one day they set me ter
+scrubbin' a nigger to mek 'im white, en all sech doin's, till the
+head-doctor stopped the hull blamed nonsense. S'pose I be a
+cur'ous chap. I ain't a nachel-bawn ijit. When folks begin ter go
+on, en do en say things I kyant see through, then I stands off en
+sez, 'Lemme 'lone.' The hospital doctors wouldn't 'low any foolin'
+with me 't all."
+
+"I'm not allowing any fooling with you," said Dr. Barnes, firmly.
+"I wish you to listen to that man and woman, and believe all they
+say. The hospital doctors would give you the same orders."
+
+"All right, then," assented Nichol, with a sort of grimace of
+resignation. "Fire away, old man, an' git through with yer yarn so
+Jackson kin come back. I wish this woman wouldn't take on so. Hit
+makes me orful oncomf't'ble, doggoned ef hit don't."
+
+The rapid and peculiar utterance, the seemingly unfeeling words of
+his son, stung the father into an ecstasy of grief akin to anger.
+A man stood before him, as clearly recognized as his own image in
+a mirror. The captain was not out of his mind in any familiar
+sense of the word; he remembered distinctly what had happened for
+months past. He must recall, he must be MADE to recollect the
+vital truths of his life on which not only his happiness but that
+of others depended. Although totally ignorant of what the wisest
+can explain but vaguely, Mr. Nichol was bent on restoring his son
+by the sheer force of will, making him remember by telling him
+what he should and must recall. This he tried to do with strong,
+eager insistence. "Why, Albert," he urged, "I'm your father; and
+that's your mother."
+
+Nichol shook his head and looked at the doctor, who added gravely,
+"That's all true."
+
+"Yes," resumed Mr. Nichol, with an energy and earnestness of
+utterance which compelled attention. "Now listen to reason. As I
+was saying, you were wounded in the head, and you have forgotten
+what happened before you were hurt. But you must remember, you
+must, indeed, or you will break your mother's heart and mine,
+too."
+
+"But I tell yer, I kyant reckerlect a thing befo' I kinder waked
+up in the hospital, en the Johnnies call me Yankee Blank. I jes'
+wish folks would lemme alone on that pint. Hit allus bothers me en
+makes me mad. How kin I reckerlect when I kyant?" and he began to
+show signs of strong vexation.
+
+Dr. Barnes was about to interfere when Mrs. Nichol, who had grown
+calmer, rose, took her son's hand, and said brokenly: "Albert,
+look me in the face, your mother's face, and try, TRY with all
+your heart and soul and mind. Don't you remember ME?"
+
+It was evident that her son did try. His brow wrinkled in the
+perplexed effort, and he looked at her fixedly for a moment or
+more; but no magnetic current from his mother's hand, no
+suggestion of the dear features which had bent over him in
+childhood and turned toward him in love and pride through
+subsequent years found anything in his arrested consciousness
+answering to her appeal.
+
+The effort and its failure only irritated him, and he broke out:
+"Now look yere, I be as I be. What's the use of all these goin's
+on? Doctor, if you sez these folks are my father and mother, so be
+it. I'm learning somethin' new all the time. This ain't no mo'
+quar, I s'pose, than some other things. I've got to mind a doctor,
+for I've learned that much ef I hain't nuthin' else, but I want
+you uns to know that I won't stan' no mo' foolin'. Doctors don't
+fool me, en they've got the po'r ter mek a feller do ez they sez,
+but other folks is got ter be keerful how they uses me."
+
+Mrs. Nichol again sank into her chair and wept bitterly; her
+husband at last remained silent in a sort of inward, impotent rage
+of grief. There was their son, alive and in physical health, yet
+between him and them was a viewless barrier which they could not
+break through.
+
+The strange complications, the sad thwartings of hope which must
+result unless he was restored, began to loom already in the
+future.
+
+Dr. Barnes now came forward and said: "Captain Nichol, you are as
+you are at this moment, but you must know that you are not what
+you were once. We are trying to restore you to your old self.
+You'd be a great deal better off if we succeed. You must help us
+all you can. You must be patient, and try all the time to
+recollect. You know I am not deceiving you, but seeking to help
+you. You don't like this. That doesn't matter. Didn't you see
+doctors do many things in hospitals which the patients didn't
+like?"
+
+"I reckon," replied Nichol, growing reasonable at once when
+brought on familiar ground.
+
+"Well, you are my patient. I may have to do some disagreeable
+things, but they won't hurt you. It won't be like taking off an
+arm or a leg. You have seen that done, I suppose?"
+
+"You bet!" was the eager, proud reply. "I used to hold the fellows
+when they squirmed."
+
+"Now hold yourself. Be patient and good-natured. While we are
+about it, I want to make every appeal possible to your lost
+memory, and I order you to keep on trying to remember till I say:
+'Through for the present.' If we succeed, you'll thank me all the
+days of your life. Anyhow, you must do as I say."
+
+"Oh, I know that."
+
+"Well, then, your name is Captain Nichol. This is Mr. Nichol, your
+father; this lady is your mother. Call them father and mother when
+you speak to them. Always speak kindly and pleasantly. They'll
+take you to a pleasant home when I'm through with you, and you
+must mind them. They'll be good to you everyway."
+
+Nichol grinned acquiescence and said: "All right, Doctor."
+
+"Now you show your good sense. We'll have you sound and happy
+yet." The doctor thought a moment and then asked: "Mr. Nichol, I
+suppose that after our visit to Mr. Kemble, you and your wife
+would prefer to take your son home with you?"
+
+"Certainly," was the prompt response.
+
+"I would advise you to do so. After our next effort, however it
+results, we all will need rest and time for thought. Captain,
+remain here a few moments with your father and mother. Listen
+good-naturedly and answer pleasantly to whatever they may say to
+you. I will be back soon."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+"I'M HELEN"
+
+
+Dr. Barnes descended the stairs to the parlor where Mr. Kemble
+impatiently awaited him. "Well?" said the banker, anxiously.
+
+"I will explain while on the way to your house. The carriage is
+still ready, I suppose?" to Jackson.
+
+"Yes," was the eager reply; "how did he take the meeting of his
+parents?"
+
+"In the main as I feared. He does not know them yet. Mr. Jackson,
+you and I are somewhat alike in one of our duties. I never talk
+about my patients. If I did, I ought to be drummed out of the town
+instead of ever being called upon again. Of course you feel that
+you should not talk about your guests. You can understand why the
+parties concerned in this matter would not wish to have it
+discussed in the village."
+
+"Certainly, Doctor, certainly," replied Jackson, reddening, for he
+knew something of his reputation for gossip. "This is no ordinary
+case."
+
+"No, it is not. Captain Nichol and his friends would never forgive
+any one who did not do right by them now. In about fifteen minutes
+or so I will return. Have the carriage wait for me at Mr. Kemble's
+till again wanted. You may go back to the captain and do your best
+to keep him wide-awake."
+
+Jackson accompanied them to the conveyance and said to the man on
+the box: "Obey all Dr. Barnes's orders."
+
+As soon as the two men were seated, the physician began: "Our
+first test has failed utterly;" and he briefly narrated what had
+occurred, concluding, "I fear your daughter will have no better
+success. Still, it is perhaps wise to do all we can, on the theory
+that these sudden shocks may start up the machinery of memory.
+Nichol is excited; such powers as he possesses are stimulated to
+their highest activity, and he is evidently making a strong effort
+to recall the past, I therefore now deem it best to increase the
+pressure on his brain to the utmost. If the obstruction does not
+give way, I see no other course than to employ the skill of
+experts and trust to the healing processes of time."
+
+"I am awfully perplexed, Doctor," was the reply. "You must be firm
+with me on one point, and you know your opinion will have great
+weight. Under no sentimental sense of duty, or even of affection,
+must Helen marry Nichol unless he is fully restored and given time
+to prove there is no likelihood of any return of this infirmity."
+
+"I agree with you emphatically. There is no reason for such self-
+sacrifice on your daughter's part. Nichol would not appreciate it.
+He is not an invalid; on the contrary, a strong, muscular man,
+abundantly able to take care of himself under the management of
+his family."
+
+"He has my profound sympathy," continued Mr. Kemble, "but giving
+that unstintedly is a very different thing from giving him my only
+child."
+
+"Certainly. Perhaps we need not say very much to Miss Helen on
+this point at present. Unless he becomes his old self she will
+feel that she has lost him more truly than if he were actually
+dead. The only deeply perplexing feature in the case is its
+uncertainty. He may be all right before morning, and he may never
+recall a thing that happened before the explosion of that shell."
+
+The carriage stopped, and Mr. Kemble hastily led the way to his
+dwelling. Helen met them at the door. "Oh, how long you have
+been!" she protested; "I've just been tortured by suspense."
+
+Dr. Barnes took her by the hand and led her to the parlor. "Miss
+Helen," he said gravely, "if you are not careful you will be
+another patient on my hands. Sad as is Captain Nichol's case, he
+at least obeys me implicitly; so must you. Your face is flushed,
+your pulse feverish, and--"
+
+"Doctor," cried the girl, "you can't touch the disease till you
+remove the cause. Why is he kept so long from me?"
+
+"Helen, child, you MUST believe that the doctor--that we all--are
+doing our best for you and Nichol," said Mr. Kemble, anxiously.
+"His father and mother came to the hotel. It was but natural that
+they should wish to see him at once. How would we feel?"
+
+"Come, Helen, dear, you must try to be more calm," urged the
+mother, gently, with her arm around her daughter's neck. "Doctor,
+can't you give her something to quiet her nerves?"
+
+"Miss Helen, like the captain, is going to do just as I say,
+aren't you? You can do more for yourself than I can do for you.
+Remember, you must act intelligently and cooperate with me. His
+father, and especially his mother, exhibited the utmost degree of
+emotion and made the strongest appeals without effect. Now we must
+try different tactics. All must be quiet and nothing occur to
+confuse or irritate him."
+
+"Ah, how little you all understand me! The moment you give me a
+chance to act I can be as calm as you are. It's this waiting, this
+torturing suspense that I cannot endure. Hobart would not have
+permitted it. He knows, he understands. Every effort will fail
+till Albert sees me. It will be a cause for lasting gratitude to
+us both that I should be the one to restore him. Now let me
+manage. My heart will guide me better than your science."
+
+"What will you do?" inquired her father, in deep solicitude.
+
+"See, here's his picture," she replied, taking it from a table
+near--"the one he gave me just before he marched away. Let him
+look at that and recall himself. Then I will enter. Oh, I've
+planned it all! My self-control will be perfect. Would I deserve
+the name of woman if I were weak or hysterical? No, I would do my
+best to rescue any man from such a misfortune, much more Albert,
+who has such sacred claims."
+
+"That's a good idea of yours about the photograph. Well, I guess I
+must let Nature have her own way again, only in this instance I
+advise quiet methods."
+
+"Trust me, Doctor, and you won't regret it."
+
+"Nerve yourself then to do your best, but prepare to be
+disappointed for the present. I do not and cannot share in your
+confidence."
+
+"Of course you cannot," she said, with a smile which illuminated
+her face into rare beauty. "Only love and faith could create my
+confidence."
+
+"Miss Helen," was the grave response, "would love and faith
+restore Captain Nichol's right arm if he had lost it?"
+
+"Oh, but that's different," she faltered.
+
+"I don't know whether it is or not. We are experimenting. There
+may be a physical cause obstructing memory which neither you nor
+any one can now remove. Kindness only leads me to temper your
+hope."
+
+"Doctor," she said half-desperately, "it is not hope; it is
+belief. I could not feel as I do if I were to be disappointed."
+
+"Ah, Miss Helen, disappointment is a very common experience. I
+must stop a moment and see one who has learned this truth pretty
+thoroughly. Then I will bring Nichol and his parents at once."
+
+Tears filled her eyes. "Yes, I know," she sighed; "my heart just
+bleeds for him, but I cannot help it. Were I not sure that Hobart
+understands me better than any one else, I should be almost
+distracted. This very thought of him nerves me. Think what he did
+for Albert from a hard sense of duty. Can I fail? Good-by, and
+please, PLEASE hasten."
+
+Martine rose to greet the physician with a clear eye and a
+resolute face. "Why, why!" cried Dr. Barnes, cheerily, "you look a
+hundred per cent better. That quinine--"
+
+"There, Doctor, I don't undervalue your drugs; but Mr. Kemble has
+been to see me and appealed to me for help--to still be on hand if
+needed. Come, I've had my hour for weakness. I am on the up-grade
+now. Tell me how far the affair has progressed."
+
+"Haven't time, Hobart. Since Mr. Kemble's treatment is so
+efficacious, I'll continue it. You will be needed, you will
+indeed, no matter how it all turns out. I won't abandon my drugs,
+either. Here, take this."
+
+Martine took the medicine as administered. "Now when you feel
+drowsy, go to sleep," added the doctor.
+
+"Tell me one thing--has she seen him yet?"
+
+"No; his father and mother have, and he does not know them. It's
+going to be a question of time, I fear."
+
+"Helen will restore him."
+
+"So she believes, or tries to. I mercifully shook her faith a
+little. Well, she feels for you, old fellow. The belief that you
+understand her better than any one has great sustaining power."
+
+"Say I won't fail her; but I entreat that you soon let me know the
+result of the meeting."
+
+"I'll come in," assented the doctor, as he hastily departed. Then
+he added sotto voce, "If you hear anything more under twelve or
+fifteen hours, I'm off my reckoning."
+
+Re-entering the carriage, he was driven rapidly to the hotel.
+Jackson had played his part, and had easily induced Nichol to
+recount his hospital experience in the presence of his parents,
+who listened in mingled wonder, grief, and impotent protest.
+
+"Captain, put on your overcoat and hat and come with me," said the
+doctor, briskly. "Your father and mother will go with us."
+
+"Good-by, Jackson," said Nichol, cordially. "Ye're a lively cuss,
+en I hopes we'll have a chaince to chin agin."
+
+With a blending of hope and of fear, his parents followed him. The
+terrible truth of his sensibility to all that he should recognize
+and remember became only the more appalling as they comprehended
+it. While it lost none of its strangeness, they were compelled to
+face and to accept it as they could not do at first.
+
+"Now, Captain," said the doctor, after they were seated in the
+carriage, "listen carefully to me. It is necessary that you recall
+what happened before you were wounded. I tell you that you must do
+it if you can, and you know doctors must be obeyed."
+
+"Look yere, Doctor, ain't I a-tryin'? but I tell yer hit's like
+tryin' ter lift myself out o' my own boots."
+
+"Mind, now, I don't say you must remember, only try your best. You
+can do that?"
+
+"I reckon."
+
+"Well, you are going to the house of an old friend who knew you
+well before you were hurt. You must pay close heed to all she says
+just as you would to me. You must not say any rude, bad words,
+such as soldiers often use, but listen to every word she says.
+Perhaps you'll know her as soon as you see her. Now I've prepared
+you. I won't be far off."
+
+"Don't leave me, Doctor. I jes' feels nachelly muxed up en mad
+when folks pester me 'bout what I kyant do."
+
+"You must not get angry now, I can tell you. That would never do
+at all. I FORBID it."
+
+"There, there now, Doctor, I won't, doggone me ef I will," Nichol
+protested anxiously.
+
+Mr. Kemble met them at the door, and the captain recognized him
+instantly.
+
+"Why, yere's that sensible ole feller what didn't want to ast no
+questions," he exclaimed.
+
+"You are right, Captain Nichol, I have no questions to ask."
+
+"Well, ef folks wuz all like you I'd have a comf't'ble time"
+
+"Come with me, Captain," said the physician, leading the way into
+the parlor. Mr. Kemble silently ushered Mr. and Mrs. Nichol into
+the sitting-room on the opposite side of the hall and placed them
+in the care of his wife. He then went into the back parlor in
+which was Helen, now quiet as women so often are in emergencies.
+Through a slight opening between the sliding-door she looked, with
+tightly clasped hands and parted lips, at her lover. At first she
+was conscious of little else except the overwhelming truth that
+before her was one she had believed dead. Then again surged up
+with blinding force the old feeling which had possessed her when
+she saw him last--when he had impressed his farewell kiss upon her
+lips. Remembering the time for her to act was almost at hand, she
+became calm--more from the womanly instinct to help him than from
+the effort of her will.
+
+Dr. Barnes said to Nichol, "Look around. Don't you think you have
+seen this room before? Take your time and try to remember."
+
+The captain did as he was bidden, but soon shook his head. "Hit's
+right purty, but I don't reckerlect."
+
+"Well, sit down here, then, and look at that picture. Who is it?"
+
+"Why, hit's me--me dressed up as cap'n," ejaculated Nichol,
+delightedly.
+
+"Yes, that was the way you looked and dressed before you were
+wounded."
+
+"How yer talk! This beats anythin' I ever yeared from the
+Johnnies."
+
+"Now, Captain Nichol, you see we are not deceiving you. We called
+you captain. There's your likeness, taken before you were hurt and
+lost your memory, and you can see for yourself that you were a
+captain. You must think how much there is for you to try to
+remember. Before you went to the war, long before you got hurt,
+you gave this likeness of yourself to a young lady that you
+thought a great deal of. Can't you recall something about it?"
+
+Nichol wrinkled his scarred forehead, scratched his head, and
+hitched uneasily in his chair, evidently making a vain effort to
+penetrate the gloom back of that vague awakening in the Southern
+hospital. At last he broke out in his usual irritation, "Naw, I
+kyant, doggon--"
+
+"Hush! you must not use that word here. Don't be discouraged. You
+are trying; that's all I ask," and the doctor laid a soothing hand
+on his shoulder. "Now, Captain, I'll just step in the next room.
+You think quietly as you can about the young lady to whom you gave
+that picture of yourself."
+
+Nichol was immensely pleased with his photograph, and looked at it
+in all its lights. While thus gratifying a sort of childish
+vanity, Helen entered noiselessly, her blue eyes, doubly luminous
+from the pallor of her face, shining like sapphires. So intent was
+her gaze that one might think it would "kindle a soul under the
+ribs of death."
+
+At last Nichol became conscious of her presence and started,
+exclaiming, "Why, there she is herself."
+
+"OH, Albert, you DO know me," cried the girl, rushing toward him
+with outstretched hand.
+
+He took it unhesitatingly, saying with a pleased wonder, "Well, I
+reckon I'm comin' round. Yer the young lady I give this picture
+to?"
+
+"I'm Helen," she breathed, with an indescribable accent of
+tenderness and gladness.
+
+"Why, cert'ny. The doctor tole me 'bout you."
+
+"But you remember me yourself?" she pleaded. "You remember what
+you said to me when you gave me this picture?" and she looked into
+his eyes with an expression which kindled even his dull senses.
+
+"Oh, shucks!" he said slowly, "I wish I could. I'd like ter 'blige
+yer, fer ye're right purty, en I am a-tryin' ter mind the doctor."
+
+Such a sigh escaped her that one might think her heart and hope
+were going with it. The supreme moment of meeting had come and
+gone, and he did not know her; she saw and felt in her inmost soul
+that he did not. The brief and illusive gleam into the past was
+projected only from the present, resulting from what he had been
+told, not from what he recalled.
+
+She withdrew her hand, turned away, and for a moment or two her
+form shook with sobs she could not wholly stifle. He looked on
+perplexed and troubled, then broke out, "I jes' feels ez ef I'd
+split my blamed ole haid open--"
+
+She checked him by a gesture. "Wait," she cried, "sit down." She
+took a chair near him and hastily wiped her eyes. "Perhaps I can
+help you remember me. You will listen closely, will you not?"
+
+"I be dog--oh, I forgot," and he looked toward the back parlor
+apprehensively. "Yes, mees, I'll do anythin' yer sez."
+
+"Well, once you were a little boy only so high, and I was a little
+girl only so high. We both lived in this village and we went to
+school together. We studied out of the same books together. At
+three o'clock in the afternoon school was out, and then we put our
+books in our desks and the teacher let us go and play. There was a
+pond of water, and it often froze over with smooth black ice. You
+and I used to go together to that pond; and you would fasten my
+skates on my feet--"
+
+"Hanged ef I wouldn't do it agin," he cried, greatly pleased. "Yer
+beats 'em all. Stid o' astin' questions, yer tells me all 'bout
+what happened. Why, I kin reckerlect it all ef I'm tole often
+anuff."
+
+With a sinking heart she faltered on, "Then you grew older and
+went away to school, and I went away to school. We had vacations;
+we rode on horseback together. Well, you grew to be as tall as you
+are now; and then came a war and you wore a captain's uniform,
+like--like that you see in your likeness, and--and--" she stopped.
+Her rising color became a vivid flush; she slowly rose as the
+thought burned its way into her consciousness that she was
+virtually speaking to a stranger. Her words were bringing no
+gleams of intelligence into his face; they were throwing no
+better, no stronger light upon the past than if she were telling
+the story to a great boy. Yet he was not a boy. A man's face was
+merely disfigured (to her eyes) by a grin of pleasure instead of a
+pleased smile; and a man's eyes were regarding her with an
+unwinking stare of admiration. She was not facing her old
+playmate, her old friend and lover, but a being whose only
+consciousness reached back but months, through scenes,
+associations coarse and vulgar like himself. She felt this with an
+intuition that was overwhelming. She could not utter another
+syllable, much less speak of the sacred love of the past. "O God!"
+she moaned in her heart, "the man has become a living grave in
+which his old self is buried. Oh, this is terrible, terrible!"
+
+As the truth grew upon her she sprang away, wringing her hands and
+looking upon him with an indescribable expression of pity and
+dread. "Oh," she now moaned aloud, "if he had only come back to me
+mutilated in body, helpless! but this change--"
+
+She fled from the room, and Nichol stared after her in perplexed
+consternation.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+"FORWARD! COMPANY A"
+
+
+When Mrs. Kemble was left alone with Captain Nichol's parents in
+the sitting-room, she told them of Helen's plan of employing the
+photograph in trying to recall their son to himself. It struck
+them as an unusually effective method. Mrs. Kemble saw that their
+anxiety was so intense that it was torture for them to remain in
+suspense away from the scene of action. It may be added that her
+own feelings also led her to go with them into the back parlor,
+where all that was said by Nichol and her daughter could be heard.
+Her solicitude for Helen was not less than theirs for their son;
+and she felt the girl might need both motherly care and counsel.
+She was opposed even more strenuously than her husband to any
+committal on the daughter's part to her old lover unless he should
+become beyond all doubt his former self. At best, it would be a
+heavy cross to give up Martine, who had won her entire affection.
+Helen's heart presented a problem too deep for solution. What
+would--what could--Captain Nichol be to her child in his present
+condition, should it continue?
+
+It was but natural, therefore, that she and her husband should
+listen to Helen's effort to awaken memories of the past with
+profound anxiety. How far would she go? If Nichol were able to
+respond with no more appreciative intelligence than he had thus
+far manifested, would a sentiment of pity and obligation carry her
+to the point of accepting him as he was, of devoting herself to
+one who, in spite of all their commiseration and endeavors to
+tolerate, might become a sort of horror in their household! It was
+with immense relief that they heard her falter in her story, for
+they quickly divined that there was nothing in him which responded
+to her effort. When they heard her rise and moan, "If he had only
+come back to me mutilated in body, helpless! but this change--"
+they believed that she was meeting the disappointment as they
+could wish.
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Nichol heard the words also, and while in a measure
+compelled to recognize their force, they conveyed a meaning hard
+to accept. The appeal upon which so much hope had been built had
+failed. In bitterness of soul, the conviction grew stronger that
+their once brave, keen-minded son would never be much better than
+an idiot.
+
+Then Helen appeared among them as pale, trembling, and overwhelmed
+as if she had seen a spectre. In strong reaction from her effort
+and blighted hope she was almost in a fainting condition. Her
+mother's arms received her and supported her to a lounge; Mrs.
+Nichol gave way to bitter weeping; Mr. Kemble wrung the father's
+hand in sympathy, and then at his wife's request went for
+restoratives. Dr. Barnes closed the sliding-doors and prudently
+reassured Nichol: "You have done your best, Captain, and that is
+all I asked of you. Remain here quietly and look at your picture
+for a little while, and then you shall have a good long rest."
+
+"I did try, Doctor," protested Nichol, anxiously. "Gee wiz! I
+reckon a feller orter try ter please sech a purty gyurl. She tole
+me lots. Look yere, Doctor, why kyan't I be tole over en over till
+I reckerlect it all?"
+
+"Well, we'll see, Captain. It's late now, and we must all have a
+rest. Stay here till I come for you."
+
+Nichol was so pleased with his photograph that he was well content
+in its contemplation. The physician now gave his attention to
+Helen, who was soon so far restored as to comprehend her utter
+failure. Her distress was great indeed, and for a few moments
+diverted the thoughts of even Mr. and Mrs. Nichol from their own
+sad share in the disappointment.
+
+"Oh, oh!" sobbed Helen, "this is the bitterest sorrow the war has
+brought us yet."
+
+"Well, now, friends," said Dr. Barnes, "it's time I had my say and
+gave my orders. You must remember that I have not shared very
+fully in your confidence that the captain could be restored by the
+appeals you have made; neither do I share in this abandonment to
+grief now. As the captain says, he is yet simply unable to
+respond. We must patiently wait and see what time and medical
+skill can do for him. There is no reason whatever for giving up
+hope. Mrs. Kemble, I would advise you to take Miss Helen to her
+room, and you, Mr. Nichol, to take your wife and son home. I will
+call in the morning, and then we can advise further."
+
+His counsel was followed, the captain readily obeying when told to
+go with his parents. Then the physician stepped over to Martine's
+cottage and found, as he supposed, that the opiate and exhausted
+nature had brought merciful oblivion.
+
+It was long before Helen slept, nor would she take anything to
+induce sleep. She soon became quiet, kissed her mother, and said
+she wished to be alone. Then she tried to look at the problem in
+all its aspects, and earnestly asked for divine guidance. The
+decision reached in the gray dawn brought repose of mind and body.
+
+It was late in the afternoon when Martine awoke with a dull pain
+in his head and heart. As the consciousness of all that had
+happened returned, he remembered that there was good reason for
+both. His faithful old domestic soon prepared a dainty meal, which
+aided in giving tone to his exhausted system. Then he sat down by
+his fire to brace himself for the tidings he expected to hear.
+Helen's chair was empty. It would always be hers, but hope was
+gone that she would smile from it upon him during the long winter
+evenings. Already the room was darkening toward the early December
+twilight, and he felt that his life was darkening in like manner.
+He was no longer eager to hear what had occurred. The mental and
+physical sluggishness which possessed him was better than sharp
+pain; he would learn all soon enough--the recognition, the
+beginning of a new life which inevitably would drift further and
+further from him. His best hope was to get through the time, to
+endure patiently and shape his life so as to permit as little of
+its shadow as possible to fall upon hers. But as he looked around
+the apartment and saw on every side the preparations for one who
+had been his, yet could be no longer, his fortitude gave way, and
+he buried his face in his hands.
+
+So deep was his painful revery that he did not hear the entrance
+of Dr. Barnes and Mr. Kemble. The latter laid a hand upon his
+shoulder and said kindly, "Hobart, my friend, it is just as I told
+you it would be. Helen needs you and wishes to see you."
+
+Martine started up, exclaiming, "He must have remembered her."
+
+Mr. Kemble shook his head. "No, Hobart," said the doctor, "she was
+as much of a stranger to him as you were. There were, of course,
+grounds for your expectation and hers also, but we prosaic
+physiologists have some reason for our doubtings as well as you
+for your beliefs. It's going to be a question of time with Nichol.
+How are you yourself? Ah, I see," he added, with his finger on his
+patient's pulse. "With you it's going to be a question of tonics."
+
+"Yes, I admit that," Martine replied, "but perhaps of tonics other
+than those you have in mind. You said, sir [to Mr. Kemble], that
+Helen wished to see me?"
+
+"Yes, when you feel well enough."
+
+"I trust you will make yourselves at home," said Martine, hastily
+preparing to go out.
+
+"But don't you wish to hear more about Nichol?" asked the doctor,
+laughing.
+
+"Not at present. Good-by."
+
+Yet he was perplexed how to meet the girl who should now have been
+his wife; and he trembled with strange embarrassment as he entered
+the familiar room in which he had parted from her almost on the
+eve of their wedding. She was neither perplexed nor embarrassed,
+for she had the calmness of a fixed purpose. She went swiftly to
+him, took his hand, led him to a chair, then sat down beside him.
+He looked at her wonderingly and listened sadly as she asked,
+"Hobart, will you be patient with me again?"
+
+"Yes," he replied after a moment, yet he sighed deeply in
+foreboding.
+
+Tears came into her eyes, yet her voice did not falter as she
+continued: "I said last night that you would understand me better
+than any one else; so I believe you will now. You will sustain and
+strengthen me in what I believe to be duty."
+
+"Yes, Helen, up to the point of such endurance as I have. One
+can't go beyond that."
+
+"No, Hobart, but you will not fail me, nor let me fail. I cannot
+marry Captain Nichol as he now is"--there was an irrepressible
+flash of joy in his dark eyes--"nor can I," she added slowly and
+sadly, "marry you." He was about to speak, but she checked him and
+resumed. "Listen patiently to me first. I have thought and thought
+long hours, and I think I am right. You, better than I, know
+Captain Nichol's condition--its sad contrast to his former noble
+self. The man we once knew is veiled, hidden, lost--how can we
+express it? But he exists, and at any time may find and reveal
+himself. No one, not even I, can revolt at what he is now as he
+will revolt at it all when his true consciousness returns. He has
+met with an immeasurable misfortune. He is infinitely worse off
+than if helpless--worse off than if he were dead, if this
+condition is to last; but it may not last. What would he think of
+me if I should desert him now and leave him nothing to remember
+but a condition of which he could only think with loathing? I will
+hide nothing from you, Hobart, my brave, true friend--you who have
+taught me what patience means. If you had brought him back utterly
+helpless, yet his old self in mind, I could have loved him and
+married him, and you would have sustained me in that course. Now I
+don't know. My future, in this respect, is hidden like his. The
+shock I received last night, the revulsion of feeling which
+followed, leaves only one thing clear. I must try to do what is
+right by him; it will not be easy. I hope you will understand.
+While I have the deepest pity that a woman can feel, I shrink from
+him NOW, for the contrast between his former self and his present
+is so terrible. Oh, it is such a horrible mystery! All Dr.
+Barnes's explanations do not make it one bit less mysterious and
+dreadful. Albert took the risk of this; he has suffered this for
+his country. I must suffer for him; I must not desert him in his
+sad extremity. I must not permit him to awake some day and learn
+from others what he now is, and that I, the woman he loved, of all
+others, left him to his degradation. The consequences might be
+more fatal than the injury which so changed him. Such action on my
+part might destroy him morally. Now his old self is buried as
+truly as if he had died. I could never look him in the face again
+if I left him to take his chances in life with no help from me,
+still less if I did that which he could scarcely forgive. He could
+not understand all that has happened since we thought him dead. He
+would only remember that I deserted him in his present pitiable
+plight. Do you understand me, Hobart?"
+
+"I must, Helen."
+
+"I know how hard it is for you. Can you think I forget this for a
+moment? Yet I send for you to help, to sustain me in a purpose
+which changes our future so greatly. Do you not remember what you
+said once about accepting the conditions of life as they are? We
+must do this again, and make the best of them."
+
+"But if--suppose his memory does not come back. Is there to be no
+hope?"
+
+"Hobart, you must put that thought from you as far as you can. Do
+you not see whither it might lead? You would not wish Captain
+Nichol to remain as he is?"
+
+"Oh," he cried desperately, "I'm put in a position that would tax
+any saint in the calendar."
+
+"Yes, you are. The future is not in our hands. I can only appeal
+to you to help me do what I think is right NOW."
+
+He thought a few moments, took his resolve, then gave her his hand
+silently. She understood him without a word.
+
+The news of the officer's return and of his strange condition was
+soon generally known in the village; but his parents, aided by the
+physician, quickly repressed those inclined to call from mere
+curiosity. At first Jim Wetherby scouted the idea that his old
+captain would not know him, but later had to admit the fact with a
+wonder which no explanations satisfied. Nichol immediately took a
+fancy to the one-armed veteran, who was glad to talk by the hour
+about soldiers and hospitals.
+
+Before any matured plan for treatment could be adopted Nichol
+became ill, and soon passed into the delirium of fever. "The
+trouble is now clear enough," Dr. Barnes explained. "The captain
+has lived in hospitals and breathed a tainted atmosphere so long
+that his system is poisoned. This radical change of air has
+developed the disease."
+
+Indeed, the typhoid symptoms progressed so rapidly as to show that
+the robust look of health had been in appearance only. The
+injured, weakened brain was the organ which suffered most, and in
+spite of the physician's best efforts his patient speedily entered
+into a condition of stupor, relieved only by low, unintelligible
+mutterings. Jim Wetherby became a tireless watcher, and greatly
+relieved the grief-stricken parents. Helen earnestly entreated
+that she might act the part of nurse also, but the doctor firmly
+forbade her useless exposure to contagion. She drove daily to the
+house, yet Mrs. Nichol's sad face and words could scarcely
+dissipate the girl's impression that the whole strange episode was
+a dream.
+
+At last it was feared that the end was near. One night Dr. Barnes,
+Mr. and Mrs. Nichol, and Jim Wetherby were watching in the hope of
+a gleam of intelligence. He was very low, scarcely more than
+breathing, and they dreaded lest there might be no sign before the
+glimmer of life faded out utterly.
+
+Suddenly the captain seemed to awake, his glassy eyes kindled, and
+a noble yet stern expression dignified his visage. In a thick
+voice he said, "For--" Then, as if all the remaining forces of
+life asserted themselves, he rose in his bed and exclaimed loudly,
+"Forward! Company A. Guide right. Ah!" He fell back, now dead in
+very truth.
+
+"Oh!" cried Jim Wetherby, excitedly, "them was the last words I
+heard from him just before the shell burst, and he looks now just
+as he did then."
+
+"Yes," said Dr. Barnes, sadly and gravely, "memory came back to
+him at the point where he lost it. He has died as we thought at
+first--a brave soldier leading a charge."
+
+The stern, grand impress of battle remained upon the officer's
+countenance. Friends and neighbors looked upon his ennobled visage
+with awe, and preserved in honored remembrance the real man that
+temporarily had been obscured. Helen's eyes, when taking her
+farewell look, were not so blinded with tears but that she
+recognized his restored manhood. Death's touch had been more
+potent than love's appeal.
+
+In the Wilderness, upon a day fatal to him and so many thousands,
+Captain Nichol had prophesied of the happy days of peace. They
+came, and he was not forgotten.
+
+One evening Dr. Barnes was sitting with Martine and Helen at their
+fireside. They had been talking about Nichol, and Helen remarked
+thoughtfully, "It was so very strange that he should have regained
+his memory in the way and at the time he did."
+
+"No," replied the physician, "that part of his experience does not
+strike me as so very strange. In typhoid cases a lucid interval is
+apt to precede death. His brain, like his body, was depleted,
+shrunken slightly by disease. This impoverishment probably removed
+the cerebral obstruction, and the organ of memory renewed its
+action at the point where it had been arrested. My theory explains
+his last ejaculation, 'Ah!' It was his involuntary exclamation as
+he again heard the shell burst. The reproduction in his mind of
+this explosion killed him instantly after all. He was too
+enfeebled to bear the shock. If he had passed from delirium into
+quiet sleep--ah, well! he is dead, and that is all we can know
+with certainty."
+
+"Well," said Martine, with a deep breath, "I am glad he had every
+chance that it was possible for us to give him."
+
+"Yes, Hobart," added his wife, gently, "you did your whole duty,
+and I do not forget what it cost you."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+QUEEN OF SPADES
+
+
+"Mother," remarked Farmer Banning, discontentedly, "Susie is
+making a long visit."
+
+"She is coming home next week," said his cheery wife. She had
+drawn her low chair close to the air-tight stove, for a late March
+snowstorm was raging without.
+
+"It seems to me that I miss her more and more."
+
+"Well, I'm not jealous."
+
+"Oh, come, wife, you needn't be. The idea! But I'd be jealous if
+our little girl was sorter weaned away from us by this visit in
+town."
+
+"Now, see here, father, you beat all the men I ever heard of in
+scolding about farmers borrowing, and here you are borrowing
+trouble."
+
+"Well, I hope I won't have to pay soon. But I've been thinking
+that the old farmhouse may look small and appear lonely after her
+gay winter. When she is away, it's too big for me, and a suspicion
+lonely for us both. I've seen that you've missed her more than I
+have."
+
+"I guess you're right. Well, she's coming home, as I said, and we
+must make home seem home to her. The child's growing up. Why,
+she'll be eighteen week after next. You must give her something
+nice on her birthday."
+
+"I will," said the farmer, his rugged, weather-beaten face
+softening with memories. "Is our little girl as old as that? Why,
+only the other day I was carrying her on my shoulder to the barn
+and tossing her into the haymow. Sure enough, the 10th of April
+will be her birthday. Well, she shall choose her own present."
+
+On the afternoon of the 5th of April he went down the long bill to
+the station, and was almost like a lover in his eagerness to see
+his child. He had come long before the train's schedule time, but
+was rewarded at last. When Susie appeared, she gave him a kiss
+before every one, and a glad greeting which might have satisfied
+the most exacting of lovers. He watched her furtively as they rode
+at a smart trot up the hill. Farmer Banning kept no old nags for
+his driving, but strong, well-fed, spirited horses that sometimes
+drew a light vehicle almost by the reins. "Yes," he thought, "she
+has grown a little citified. She's paler, and has a certain air or
+style that don't seem just natural to the hill. Well, thank the
+Lord! she doesn't seem sorry to go up the hill once more."
+
+"There's the old place, Susie, waiting for you," he said. "It
+doesn't look so very bleak, does it, after all the fine city
+houses you've seen?"
+
+"Yes, father, it does. It never appeared so bleak before."
+
+He looked at his home, and in the late gray afternoon, saw it in a
+measure with her eyes--the long brown, bare slopes, a few gaunt
+old trees about the house, and the top boughs of the apple-orchard
+behind a sheltering hill in the rear of the dwelling.
+
+"Father," resumed the girl, "we ought to call our place the Bleak
+House. I never so realized before how bare and desolate it looks,
+standing there right in the teeth of the north wind."
+
+His countenance fell, but he had no time for comment. A moment
+later Susie was in her mother's arms. The farmer lifted the trunk
+to the horse-block and drove to the barn. "I guess it will be the
+old story," he muttered. "Home has become 'Bleak House.' I suppose
+it did look bleak to her eyes, especially at this season. Well,
+well, some day Susie will go to the city to stay, and then it will
+be Bleak House sure enough."
+
+"Oh, father," cried his daughter when, after doing his evening
+work, he entered with the shadow of his thoughts still upon his
+face--"oh, father, mother says I can choose my birthday present!"
+
+"Yes, Sue; I've passed my word."
+
+"And so I have your bond. My present will make you open your
+eyes."
+
+"And pocket-book too, I suppose. I'll trust you, however, not to
+break me. What is it to be?"
+
+"I'll tell you the day before, and not till then."
+
+After supper they drew around the stove. Mrs. Banning got out her
+knitting, as usual, and prepared for city gossip. The farmer
+rubbed his hands over the general aspect of comfort, and
+especially over the regained presence of his child's bright face.
+"Well, Sue," he remarked, "you'll own that this room IN the house
+doesn't look very bleak?"
+
+"No, father, I'll own nothing of the kind. Your face and mother's
+are not bleak, but the room is."
+
+"Well," said the farmer, rather disconsolately, "I fear the old
+place has been spoiled for you. I was saying to mother before you
+came home--"
+
+"There now, father, no matter about what you were saying. Let
+Susie tell us why the room is bleak."
+
+The girl laughed softly, got up, and taking a billet of wood from
+the box, put it into the air-tight. "The stove has swallowed it
+just as old Trip did his supper. Shame! you greedy dog," she
+added, caressing a great Newfoundland that would not leave her a
+moment. "Why can't you learn to eat your meals like a gentleman?"
+Then to her father, "Suppose we could sit here and see the flames
+curling all over and around that stick. Even a camp in the woods
+is jolly when lighted up by a flickering blaze."
+
+"Oh--h!" said the farmer; "you think an open fire would take away
+the bleakness?"
+
+"Certainly. The room would be changed instantly, and mother's face
+would look young and rosy again. The blue-black of this sheet-iron
+stove makes the room look blue-black."
+
+"Open fires don't give near as much heat," said her father,
+meditatively. "They take an awful lot of wood; and wood is getting
+scarce in these parts."
+
+"I should say so! Why don't you farmers get together, appoint a
+committee to cut down every tree remaining, then make it a State-
+prison offence ever to set out another? Why, father, you cut
+nearly all the trees from your lot a few years ago and sold the
+wood. Now that the trees are growing again, you are talking of
+clearing up the land for pasture. Just think of the comfort we
+could get out of that wood-lot! What crop would pay better? All
+the upholsterers in the world cannot furnish a room as an open
+hardwood fire does; and all the produce of the farm could not buy
+anything else half so nice."
+
+"Say, mother," said her father, after a moment, "I guess I'll get
+down that old Franklin from the garret to-morrow and see if it
+can't furnish this room."
+
+The next morning he called rather testily to the hired man, who
+was starting up the lane with an axe, "Hiram, I've got other work
+for you. Don't cut a stick in that wood-lot unless I tell you."
+
+The evening of the 9th of April was cool but clear, and the farmer
+said, genially, "Well, Sue, prospects good for fine weather on
+your birthday. Glad of it; for I suppose you will want me to go to
+town with you for your present, whatever it is to be."
+
+"You'll own up a girl can keep a secret now, won't you?"
+
+"He'll have to own more'n that," added his wife; "he must own that
+an ole woman hasn't lost any sleep from curiosity."
+
+"How much will be left me to own to-morrow night?" said the
+farmer, dubiously. "I suppose Sue wants a watch studded with
+diamonds, or a new house, or something else that she darsn't speak
+of till the last minute, even to her mother."
+
+"Nothing of the kind. I want only all your time tomorrow, and all
+Hiram's time, after you have fed the stock."
+
+"All our time!
+
+"Yes, the entire day, in which you both are to do just what I
+wish. You are not going gallivanting to the city, but will have to
+work hard."
+
+"Well, I'm beat! I don't know what you want any more than I did at
+first."
+
+"Yes, you do--your time and Hiram's."
+
+"Give it up. It's hardly the season for a picnic. We might go
+fishing--"
+
+"We must go to bed, so as to be up early, all hands."
+
+"Oh, hold on, Sue; I do like this wood-fire. If it wouldn't make
+you vain, I'd tell you how--"
+
+"Pretty, father. Say it out."
+
+"Oh, you know it, do you? Well, how pretty you look in the
+firelight. Even mother, there, looks ten years younger. Keep your
+low seat, child, and let me look at you. So you're eighteen? My!
+my! how the years roll around! It WILL be Bleak House for mother
+and me, in spite of the wood-fire, when you leave us."
+
+"It won't be Bleak House much longer," she replied with a
+significant little nod.
+
+The next morning at an early hour the farmer said, "All ready,
+Sue. Our time is yours till night; so queen it over us." And black
+Hiram grinned acquiescence, thinking he was to have an easy time.
+
+"Queen it, did you say?" cried Sue, in great spirits. "Well, then,
+I shall be queen of spades. Get 'em, and come with me. Bring a
+pickaxe, too." She led the way to a point not far from the
+dwelling, and resumed: "A hole here, father, a hole there, Hiram,
+big enough for a small hemlock, and holes all along the northeast
+side of the house. Then lots more holes, all over the lawn, for
+oaks, maples, dogwood, and all sorts to pretty trees, especially
+evergreens.'
+
+"Oh, ho!" cried the farmer; "now I see the hole where the
+woodchuck went in."
+
+"But you don't see the hole where he's coming out. When that is
+dug, even the road will be lined with trees. Foolish old father!
+you thought I'd be carried away with city gewgaws, fine furniture,
+dresses, and all that sort of thing. You thought I'd be pining for
+what you couldn't afford, what wouldn't do you a particle of good,
+nor me either, in the long run. I'm going to make you set out
+trees enough to double the value of your place and take all the
+bleakness and bareness from this hillside. To-day is only the
+beginning. I did get some new notions in the city which made me
+discontented with my home, but they were not the notions you were
+worrying about. In the suburbs I saw that the most costly houses
+were made doubly attractive by trees and shrubbery, and I knew
+that trees would grow for us as well as for millionaires--My
+conscience! if there isn't--" and the girl frowned and bit her
+lips.
+
+"Is that one of the city beaux you were telling us about?" asked
+her father, sotto voce.
+
+"Yes; but I don't want any beaux around to-day. I didn't think
+he'd be so persistent." Then, conscious that she was not dressed
+for company, but for work upon which she had set her heart, she
+advanced and gave Mr. Minturn a rather cool greeting.
+
+But the persistent beau was equal to the occasion. He had endured
+Sue's absence as long as he could, then had resolved on a long
+day's siege, with a grand storming-onset late in the afternoon.
+
+"Please, Miss Banning," he began, "don't look askance at me for
+coming at this unearthly hour. I claim the sacred rites of
+hospitality. I'm an invalid. The doctor said I needed country air,
+or would have prescribed it if given a chance. You said I might
+come to see you some day, and by playing Paul Pry I found out, you
+remember, that this was your birthday, and--"
+
+"And this is my father, Mr. Minturn."
+
+Mr. Minturn shook the farmer's hand with a cordiality calculated
+to awaken suspicions of his designs in a pump, had its handle been
+thus grasped. "Mr. Banning will forgive me for appearing with the
+lark," he continued volubly, determining to break the ice. "One
+can't get the full benefit of a day in the country if he starts in
+the afternoon."
+
+The farmer was polite, but nothing more. If there was one thing
+beyond all others with which he could dispense, it was a beau for
+Sue.
+
+Sue gave her father a significant, disappointed glance, which
+meant, "I won't get my present to day"; but he turned and said to
+Hiram, "Dig the hole right there, two feet across, eighteen inches
+deep." Then he started for the house. While not ready for suitors,
+his impulse to bestow hospitality was prompt.
+
+The alert Mr. Minturn had observed the girl's glance, and knew
+that the farmer had gone to prepare his wife for a guest. He
+determined not to remain unless assured of a welcome. "Come, Miss
+Banning," he said, "we are at least friends, and should be frank.
+How much misunderstanding and trouble would often be saved if
+people would just speak their thought! This is your birthday--YOUR
+DAY. It should not be marred by any one. It would distress me
+keenly if I were the one to spoil it. Why not believe me literally
+and have your way absolutely about this day? I could come another
+time. Now show that a country girl, at least, can speak her mind."
+
+With an embarrassed little laugh she answered, "I'm half inclined
+to take you at your word; but it would look so inhospitable."
+
+"Bah for looks! The truth, please. By the way, though, you never
+looked better than in that trim blue walking-suit."
+
+"Old outgrown working-suit, you mean. How sincere you are!"
+
+"Indeed I am. Well, I'm de trop; that much is plain. You will let
+me come another day, won't you?"
+
+"Yes, and I'll be frank too and tell you about THIS day. Father's
+a busy man, and his spring work is beginning, but as my birthday-
+present he has given me all his time and all Hiram's yonder. Well,
+I learned in the city how trees improved a home; and I had planned
+to spend this long day in setting out trees--planned it ever since
+my return. So you see--"
+
+"Of course I see and approve," cried Minturn. "I know now why I
+had such a wild impulse to come out here to-day. Why, certainly.
+Just fancy me a city tramp looking for work, and not praying I
+won't find it, either. I'll work for my board. I know how to set
+out trees. I can prove it, for I planted those thrifty fellows
+growing about our house in town. Think how much more you'll
+accomplish, with another man to help--one that you can order
+around to your heart's content."
+
+"The idea of my putting you to work!"
+
+"A capital idea! and if a man doesn't work when a woman puts him
+at it he isn't worth the powder--I won't waste time even in
+original remarks. I'll promise you there will be double the number
+of trees out by night. Let me take your father's spade and show
+you how I can dig. Is this the place? If I don't catch up with
+Hiram, you may send the tramp back to the city." And before she
+could remonstrate, his coat was off and he at work.
+
+Laughing, yet half in doubt, she watched him. The way he made the
+earth fly was surprising. "Oh, come," she said after a few
+moments, "you have shown your goodwill. A steam-engine could not
+keep it up at that rate."
+
+"Perhaps not; but I can. Before you engage me, I wish you to know
+that I am equal to old Adam, and can dig."
+
+"Engage you!" she thought with a little flutter of dismay. "I
+could manage him with the help of town conventionalities; but how
+will it be here? I suppose I can keep father and Hiram within
+earshot, and if he is so bent on--well, call it a lark, since he
+has referred to that previous bird, perhaps I might as well have a
+lark too, seeing it's my birthday." Then she spoke. "Mr. Minturn!"
+
+"I'm busy."
+
+"But really--"
+
+"And truly tell me, am I catching up with Hiram?"
+
+"You'll get down so deep that you'll drop through if you're not
+careful."
+
+"There's nothing like having a man who is steady working for you.
+Now, most fellows would stop and giggle at such little amusing
+remarks."
+
+"You are soiling your trousers."
+
+"Yes, you're right. They ARE mine. There; isn't that a regulation
+hole? 'Two feet across and eighteen deep.'"
+
+"Yah! yah!" cackled Hiram; "eighteen foot deep! Dat ud be a well."
+
+"Of course it would, and truth would lie at its bottom. Can I
+stay, Miss Banning?"
+
+"Did you ever see the like?" cried the farmer, who had appeared,
+unnoticed.
+
+"Look here, father," said the now merry girl, "perhaps I was
+mistaken. This--"
+
+"Tramp--" interjected Minturn.
+
+"Says he's looking for work and knows how to set out trees."
+
+"And will work all day for a dinner," the tramp promptly added.
+
+"If he can dig holes at that rate, Sue," said her father, catching
+their spirit, "he's worth a dinner. But you're boss to-day; I'm
+only one of the hands."
+
+"I'm only another," said Minturn, touching his hat.
+
+"Boss, am I? I'll soon find out. Mr. Minturn, come with me and don
+a pair of overalls. You shan't put me to shame, wearing that
+spick-and-span suit, neither shall you spoil it. Oh, you're in for
+it now! You might have escaped, and come another day, when I could
+have received you in state and driven you out behind father's
+frisky bays. When you return to town with blistered hands and
+aching bones, you will at least know better another time."
+
+"I don't know any better this time, and just yearn for those
+overalls."
+
+"To the house, then, and see mother before you become a wreck."
+
+Farmer Banning looked after him and shook his head. Hiram spoke
+his employer's thought, "Dar ar gem'lin act like he gwine ter set
+hisself out on dis farm."
+
+Sue had often said, "I can never be remarkable for anything; but I
+won't be commonplace." So she did not leave her guest in the
+parlor while she rushed off for a whispered conference with her
+mother. The well-bred simplicity of her manner, which often
+stopped just short of brusqueness, was never more apparent than
+now. "Mother!" she called from the parlor door.
+
+The old lady gave a few final directions to her maid-of-all-work,
+and then appeared.
+
+"Mother, this is Mr. Minturn, one of my city friends, of whom I
+have spoken to you. He is bent on helping me set out trees."
+
+"Yes, Mrs. Banning, so bent that your daughter found that she
+would have to employ her dog to get me off the place."
+
+Now, it had so happened that in discussing with her mother the
+young men whom she had met, Sue had said little about Mr. Minturn;
+but that little was significant to the experienced matron. Words
+had slipped out now and then which suggested that the girl did
+more thinking than talking concerning him; and she always referred
+to him in some light which she chose to regard as ridiculous, but
+which had not seemed in the least absurd to the attentive
+listener. When her husband, therefore, said that Mr. Minturn had
+appeared on the scene, she felt that an era of portentous events
+had begun. The trees to be set out would change the old place
+greatly, but a primeval forest shading the door would be as
+nothing compared with the vicissitude which a favored "beau" might
+produce. But mothers are more unselfish than fathers, and are
+their daughters' natural allies unless the suitor is
+objectionable. Mrs. Banning was inclined to be hospitable on
+general principles, meantime eager on her own account to see
+something of this man, about whom she had presentiments. So she
+said affably, "My daughter can keep her eye on the work which she
+is so interested in, and yet give you most of her time.--Susan, I
+will entertain Mr. Minturn while you change your dress."
+
+She glanced at her guest dubiously, receiving for the moment the
+impression that the course indicated by her mother was the correct
+one. The resolute admirer knew well what a fiasco the day would be
+should the conventionalities prevail, and so said promptly: "Mrs.
+Banning, I appreciate your kind intentions, and I hope some day
+you may have the chance to carry them out. To-day, as your husband
+understands, I am a tramp from the city looking for work. I have
+found it, and have been engaged.--Miss Banning, I shall hold you
+inflexibly to our agreement--a pair of overalls and dinner."
+
+Sue said a few words of explanation. Her mother laughed, but
+urged, "Do go and change your dress."
+
+"I protest!" cried Mr. Minturn. "The walking-suit and overalls go
+together."
+
+"Walking-suit, indeed!" repeated Sue, disdainfully. "But I shall
+not change it. I will not soften one feature of the scrape you
+have persisted in getting yourself into."
+
+"Please don't."
+
+"Mr. Minturn," said the matron, with smiling positiveness, "Susie
+is boss only out of doors; I am, in the house. There is a fresh-
+made cup of coffee and some eggs on toast in the dining-room.
+Having taken such an early start, you ought to have a lunch before
+being put to work."
+
+"Yes," added Sue, "and the out-door boss says you can't go to work
+until at least the coffee is sipped."
+
+"She's shrewd, isn't she, Mrs. Banning? She knows she will get
+twice as much work out of me on the strength of that coffee.
+Please get the overalls. I will not sip, but swallow the coffee,
+unless it's scalding, so that no time may be lost. Miss Banning
+must see all she had set her heart upon accomplished to-day, and a
+great deal more."
+
+The matron departed on her quest, and as she pulled out the
+overalls, nodded her head significantly. "Things will be serious
+sure enough if he accomplishes all he has set his heart on," she
+muttered. "Well, he doesn't seem afraid to give us a chance to see
+him. He certainly will look ridiculous in these overalls, but not
+much more so than Sue in that old dress. I do wish she would
+change it."
+
+The girl had considered this point, but with characteristic
+decision had thought: "No; he shall see us all on the plainest
+side of our life. He always seemed a good deal of an exquisite in
+town, and he lives in a handsome house. If to-day's experience at
+the old farm disgusts him, so be it. My dress is clean and tidy,
+if it is outgrown and darned; and mother is always neat, no matter
+what she wears. I'm going through the day just as I planned; and
+if he's too fine for us, now is the time to find it out. He may
+have come just for a lark, and will laugh with his folks to-night
+over the guy of a girl I appear; but I won't yield even to the
+putting of a ribbon in my hair."
+
+Mrs. Banning never permitted the serving of cold slops for coffee,
+and Mr. Minturn had to sip the generous and fragrant beverage
+slowly. Meanwhile, his thoughts were busy. "Bah! for the old
+saying, 'Take the goods the gods send,'" he mused. "Go after your
+goods and take your pick. I knew my head was level in coming out.
+All is just as genuine as I supposed it would be--simple, honest,
+homely. The girl isn't homely, though, but she's just as genuine
+as all the rest, in that old dress which fits her like a glove. No
+shams and disguises on this field-day of my life. And her mother!
+A glance at her comfortable amplitude banished my one fear.
+There's not a sharp angle about her. I was satisfied about Miss
+Sue, but the term 'mother-in-law' suggests vague terrors to any
+man until reassured.--Ah, Miss Banning," he said, "this coffee
+would warm the heart of an anchorite. No wonder you are inspired
+to fine things after drinking such nectar."
+
+"Yes, mother is famous for her coffee. I know that's fine, and you
+can praise it; but I'll not permit any ironical remarks concerning
+myself."
+
+"I wouldn't, if I were you, especially when you are mistress of
+the situation. Still, I can't help having my opinion of you. Why
+in the world didn't you choose as your present something stylish
+from the city?"
+
+"Something, I suppose you mean, in harmony with my very stylish
+surroundings and present appearance."
+
+"I didn't mean anything of the kind, and fancy you know it. Ah!
+here are the overalls. Now deeds, not words. I'll leave my coat,
+watch, cuffs, and all impedimenta with you, Mrs. Banning. Am I not
+a spectacle to men and gods?" he added, drawing up the garment,
+which ceased to be nether in that it reached almost to his
+shoulders.
+
+"Indeed you are," cried Sue, holding her side from laughing. Mrs.
+Banning also vainly tried to repress her hilarity over the absurd
+guy into which the nattily-dressed city man had transformed
+himself.
+
+"Come," he cried, "no frivolity! You shall at least say I kept my
+word about the trees to-day." And they started at once for the
+scene of action, Minturn obtaining on the way a shovel from the
+tool-room.
+
+"To think she's eighteen years old and got a beau!" muttered the
+farmer, as he and Hiram started two new holes. They were dug and
+others begun, yet the young people had not returned. "That's the
+way with young men nowadays--'big cry, little wool.' I thought I
+was going to have Sue around with me all day. Might as well get
+used to it, I suppose. Eighteen! Her mother's wasn't much older
+when--yes, hang it, there's always a WHEN with these likely girls.
+I'd just like to start in again on that day when I tossed her into
+the haymow."
+
+"What are you talking to yourself about, father?"
+
+"Oh! I thought I had seen the last of you to-day."
+
+"Perhaps you will wish you had before night."
+
+"Well, now, Sue! the idea of letting Mr. Minturn rig himself out
+like that! There's no use of scaring the crows so long before
+corn-planting." And the farmer's guffaw was quickly joined by
+Hiram's broad "Yah! yah!"
+
+She frowned a little as she said, "He doesn't look any worse than
+I do."
+
+"Come, Mr. Banning, Solomon in all his glory could not so take
+your daughter's eye to-day as a goodly number of trees standing
+where she wants them. I suggest that you loosen the soil with the
+pickaxe, then I can throw it out rapidly. Try it."
+
+The farmer did so, not only for Minturn, but for Hiram also. The
+lightest part of the work thus fell to him. "We'll change about,"
+he said, "when you get tired."
+
+But Minturn did not get weary apparently, and under this new
+division of the toil the number of holes grew apace.
+
+"Sakes alive, Mr. Minturn!" ejaculated Mr. Banning, "one would
+think you had been brought up on a farm."
+
+"Or at ditch-digging," added the young man. "No; my profession is
+to get people into hot water and then make them pay roundly to get
+out. I'm a lawyer. Times have changed in cities. It's there you'll
+find young men with muscle, if anywhere. Put your hand here, sir,
+and you'll know whether Miss Banning made a bad bargain in hiring
+me for the day."
+
+"Why!" exclaimed the astonished farmer, "you have the muscle of a
+blacksmith."
+
+"Yes, sir; I could learn that trade in about a month."
+
+"You don't grow muscle like that in a law-office?"
+
+"No, indeed; nothing but bills grow there. A good fashion, if not
+abused, has come in vogue, and young men develop their bodies as
+well as brains. I belong to an athletic club in town, and could
+take to pugilism should everything else fail."
+
+"Is there any prospect of your coming to that?" Sue asked
+mischievously.
+
+"If we were out walking, and two or three rough fellows gave you
+impudence--" He nodded significantly.
+
+"What could you do against two or three? They'd close on you."
+
+"A fellow taught to use his hands doesn't let men close on him."
+
+"Yah, yah! reckon not," chuckled Hiram. One of the farm household
+had evidently been won.
+
+"It seems to me," remarked smiling Sue, "that I saw several young
+men in town who appeared scarcely equal to carrying their canes."
+
+"Dudes?"
+
+"That's what they are called, I believe."
+
+"They are not men. They are neither fish, flesh, nor fowl, but the
+beginning of the great downward curve of evolution. Men came up
+from monkeys, it's said, you know, but science is in despair over
+the final down-comes of dudes. They may evolute into
+grasshoppers."
+
+The farmer was shaken with mirth, and Sue could not help seeing
+that he was having a good time. She, however, felt that no
+tranquilly exciting day was before her, as she had anticipated.
+What wouldn't that muscular fellow attempt before night? He
+possessed a sort of vim and cheerful audacity which made her
+tremble, "He is too confident," she thought, "and needs a lesson.
+All this digging is like that of soldiers who soon mean to drop
+their shovels. I don't propose to be carried by storm just when he
+gets ready. He can have his lark, and that's all to-day. I want a
+good deal of time to think before I surrender to him or any one
+else."
+
+During the remainder of the forenoon these musings prevented the
+slightest trace of sentimentality from appearing in her face or
+words. She had to admit mentally that Minturn gave her no occasion
+for defensive tactics. He attended as strictly to business as did
+Hiram, and she was allowed to come and go at will. At first she
+merely ventured to the house, to "help mother," as she said. Then,
+with growing confidence, she went here and there to select sites
+for trees; but Minturn dug on no longer "like a steam-engine," yet
+in an easy, steady, effective way that was a continual surprise to
+the farmer.
+
+"Well, Sue," said her father at last, "you and mother ought to
+have an extra dinner; for Mr. Minturn certainly has earned one."
+
+"I promised him only a dinner," she replied; "nothing was said
+about its being extra."
+
+"Quantity is all I'm thinking of," said Minturn. "I have the sauce
+which will make it a feast."
+
+"Beckon it's gwine on twelve," said Hiram, cocking his eye at the
+sun. "Hadn't I better feed de critters?"
+
+"Ah, old man! own up, now; you've got a backache," said Minturn.
+
+"Dere is kin' ob a crik comin'--"
+
+"Drop work, all hands," cried Sue. "Mr. Minturn has a 'crik' also,
+but he's too proud to own it. How you'll groan for this to-morrow,
+sir!"
+
+"If you take that view of the case, I may be under the necessity
+of giving proof positive to the contrary by coming out to-morrow."
+
+"You're not half through yet. The hardest part is to come."
+
+"Oh, I know that," he replied; and he gave her such a humorously
+appealing glance that she turned quickly toward the house to hide
+a conscious flush.
+
+The farmer showed him to the spare-room, in which he found his
+belongings. Left to make his toilet, he muttered, "Ah, better and
+better! This is not the regulation refrigerator into which guests
+are put at farmhouses. All needed for solid comfort is here, even
+to a slight fire in the air-tight. Now, isn't that rosy old lady a
+jewel of a mother-in-law? She knows that a warm man shouldn't get
+chilled just as well as if she had studied athletics. Miss Sue,
+however, is a little chilly. She's on the fence yet. Jupiter! I AM
+tired. Oh, well, I don't believe I'll have seven years of this
+kind of thing. You were right, though, old man, if your Rachel was
+like mine. What's that rustle in the other room? She's dressing
+for dinner. So must I; and I'm ready for it. If she has romantic
+ideas about love and lost appetites, I'm a goner."
+
+When he descended to the parlor, his old stylish self again, Sue
+was there, robed in a gown which he had admired before, revealing
+the fact to her by approving glances. But now he said, "You don't
+look half so well as you did before."
+
+"I can't say that of you," she replied.
+
+"A man's looks are of no consequence."
+
+"Few men think so."
+
+"Oh, they try to please such critical eyes as I now am meeting."
+
+"And throw dust in them too sometimes."
+
+"Yes; gold dust, often. I haven't much of that."
+
+"It would be a pity to throw it away if you had."
+
+"No matter how much was thrown, I don't think it would blind you,
+Miss Banning."
+
+The dining-room door across the hall opened, and the host and
+hostess appeared. "Why, father and mother, how fine you look!"
+
+"It would be strange indeed if we did not honor this day," said
+Mrs. Banning. "I hope you have not so tired yourself, sir, that
+you cannot enjoy your dinner. I could scarcely believe my eyes as
+I watched you from the window."
+
+"I am afraid I shall astonish you still more at the table. I am
+simply ravenous."
+
+"This is your chance," cried Sue. "You are now to be paid in the
+coin you asked for."
+
+Sue did remark to herself by the time they reached dessert and
+coffee, "I need have no scruples in refusing a man with such an
+appetite; he won't pine. He is a lawyer, sure enough. He is just
+winning father and mother hand over hand."
+
+Indeed, the bosom of good Mrs. Banning must have been environed
+with steel not to have had throbs of goodwill toward one who
+showed such hearty appreciation of her capital dinner. But Sue
+became only the more resolved that she was not going to yield so
+readily to this muscular suitor who was digging and eating his way
+straight into the hearts of her ancestors, and she proposed to be
+unusually elusive and alert during the afternoon. She was a little
+surprised when he resumed his old tactics.
+
+After drinking a second cup of coffee, he rose, and said, "As an
+honest man, I have still a great deal to do after such a dinner."
+
+"Well, it has just done me good to see you," said Mrs. Banning,
+smiling genially over her old-fashioned coffee-pot. "I feel highly
+complimented."
+
+"I doubt whether I shall be equal to another such compliment
+before the next birthday. I hope, Miss Susie, you have observed my
+efforts to do honor to the occasion?"
+
+"Oh," cried the girl, "I naturally supposed you were trying to get
+even in your bargain."
+
+"I hope to be about sundown. I'll get into those overalls at once,
+and I trust you will put on your walking-suit."
+
+"Yes, it will be a walking-suit for a short time. We must walk to
+the wood-lot for the trees, unless you prefer to ride.--Father,
+please tell Hiram to get the two-horse wagon ready."
+
+When the old people were left alone, the farmer said, "Well,
+mother, Sue HAS got a suitor, and if he don't suit her--" And then
+his wit gave out.
+
+"There, father, I never thought you'd come to that. It's well she
+has, for you will soon have to be taken care of."
+
+"He's got the muscle to do it. He shall have my law-business,
+anyway."
+
+"Thank the Lord, it isn't much; but that's not saying he shall
+have Sue."
+
+"Why, what have you against him?"
+
+"Nothing so far. I was only finding out if you had anything
+against him."
+
+"Lawyers, indeed! What would become of the men if women turned
+lawyers. Do you think Sue--"
+
+"Hush!"
+
+They all laughed till the tears came when Minturn again appeared
+dressed for work; but he nonchalantly lighted a cigar and was
+entirely at his ease.
+
+Sue was armed with thick gloves and a pair of pruning-nippers.
+Minturn threw a spade and pickaxe on his shoulder, and Mr.
+Banning, whom Sue had warned threateningly "never to be far away,"
+tramped at their side as they went up the lane. Apparently there
+was no need of such precaution, for the young man seemed wholly
+bent on getting up the trees, most of which she had selected and
+marked during recent rambles. She helped now vigorously, pulling
+on the young saplings as they loosened the roots, then trimming
+them into shape. More than once, however, she detected glances,
+and his thoughts were more flattering than she imagined. "What
+vigor she has in that supple, rounded form! Her very touch ought
+to put life into these trees; I know it would into me. How young
+she looks in that comical old dress which barely reaches her
+ankles! Yes, Hal Minturn; and remember, that trim little ankle can
+put a firm foot down for or against you--so no blundering."
+
+He began to be doubtful whether he would make his grand attack
+that day, and finally decided against it, unless a very favorable
+opportunity occurred, until her plan of birthday-work had been
+carried out and he had fulfilled the obligation into which he had
+entered in the morning. He labored on manfully, seconding all her
+wishes, and taking much pains to get the young trees up with an
+abundance of fibrous roots. At last his assiduity induced her to
+relent a little, and she smiled sympathetically as she remarked,
+"I hope you are enjoying yourself. Well, never mind; some other
+day you will fare better."
+
+"Why should I not enjoy myself?" he asked in well-feigned
+surprise. "What condition of a good time is absent? Even an April
+day has forgotten to be moody, and we are having unclouded, genial
+sunshine. The air is delicious with springtime fragrance. Were
+ever hemlocks so aromatic as these young fellows? They come out of
+the ground so readily that one would think them aware of their
+proud destiny. Of course I'm enjoying myself. Even the robins and
+sparrows know it, and are singing as if possessed."
+
+"Hadn't you better give up your law-office and turn farmer?"
+
+"This isn't farming. This is embroidery-work."
+
+"Well, if all these trees grow they will embroider the old place,
+won't they?"
+
+"They'll grow, every mother's son of 'em."
+
+"What makes you so confident?"
+
+"I'm not confident. That's where you are mistaken." And he gave
+her such a direct, keen look that she suddenly found something to
+do elsewhere.
+
+"I declare!" she exclaimed mentally, "he seems to read my very
+thoughts."
+
+At last the wagon was loaded with trees enough to occupy the holes
+which had been dug, and they started for the vicinity of the
+farmhouse again. Mr. Banning had no match-making proclivities
+where Sue was concerned, as may be well understood, and had never
+been far off. Minturn, however, had appeared so single-minded in
+his work, so innocent of all designs upon his daughter, that the
+old man began to think that this day's performance was only a
+tentative and preliminary skirmish, and that if there were danger
+it lurked in the unknown future. He was therefore inclined to be
+less vigilant, reasoning philosophically, "I suppose it's got to
+come some time or other. It looks as if Sue might go a good deal
+further than this young man and fare worse. But then she's only
+eighteen, and he knows it. I guess he's got sense enough not to
+plant his corn till the sun's higher. He can see with half an eye
+that my little girl isn't ready to drop, like an over-ripe apple."
+Thus mixing metaphors and many thoughts, he hurried ahead to open
+the gate for Hiram.
+
+"I'm in for it now," thought Sue, and she instinctively assumed an
+indifferent expression and talked volubly of trees.
+
+"Yes, Miss Banning," he said formally, "by the time your hair is
+tinged with gray the results of this day's labor will be seen far
+and wide. No passenger in the cars, no traveller in the valley,
+but will turn his eyes admiringly in this direction."
+
+"I wasn't thinking of travellers," she answered, "but of making an
+attractive home in which I can grow old contentedly. Some day when
+you have become a gray-haired and very dignified judge you may
+come out and dine with us again. You can then smoke your cigar
+under a tree which you helped to plant."
+
+"Certainly, Miss Banning. With such a prospect, how could you
+doubt that I was enjoying myself? What suggested the judge? My
+present appearance?"
+
+The incongruity of the idea with his absurd aspect and a certain
+degree of nervousness set her off again, and she startled the
+robins by a laugh as loud and clear as their wild notes.
+
+"I don't care," she cried. "I've had a jolly birthday, and am
+accomplishing all on which I had set my heart."
+
+"Yes, and a great deal more, Miss Banning," he replied with a
+formal bow. "In all your scheming you hadn't set your heart on my
+coming out and--does modesty permit me to say it?--helping a
+little."
+
+"Now, you HAVE helped wonderfully, and you must not think I don't
+appreciate it."
+
+"Ah, how richly I am rewarded!"
+
+She looked at him with a laughing and perplexed little frown, but
+only said, "No irony, sir."
+
+By this time they had joined her father and begun to set out the
+row of hemlocks. To her surprise, Sue had found herself a little
+disappointed that he had not availed himself of his one
+opportunity to be at least "a bit friendly" as she phrased it. It
+was mortifying to a girl to be expecting "something awkward to
+meet" and nothing of the kind take place. "After all," she
+thought, "perhaps he came out just for a lark, or, worse still, is
+amusing himself at my expense; or he may have come on an exploring
+expedition and plain old father and mother, and the plain little
+farmhouse, have satisfied him. Well, the dinner wasn't very plain,
+but he may have been laughing in his sleeve at our lack of style
+in serving it. Then this old dress! I probably appear to him a
+perfect guy." And she began to hate it, and devoted it to the rag-
+bag the moment she could get it off.
+
+This line of thought, once begun, seemed so rational that she
+wondered it had not occurred to her before. "The idea of my being
+so ridiculously on the defensive!" she thought. "No, it wasn't
+ridiculous either, as far as my action went, for he can never say
+I ACTED as if I wanted him to speak. My conceit in expecting him
+to speak the moment he got a chance WAS absurd. He has begun to be
+very polite and formal. That's always the way with men when they
+want to back out of anything. He came out to look us over, and me
+in particular; he made himself into a scarecrow just because I
+looked like one, and now will go home and laugh it all over with
+his city friends. Oh, why did he come and spoil my day? Even he
+said it WAS my day, and he has done a mean thing in spoiling it.
+Well, he may not carry as much self-complacency back to town as he
+thinks he will. Such a cold-blooded spirit, too!--to come upon us
+unawares in order to spy out everything, for fear he might get
+taken in! You were very attentive and flattering in the city, sir,
+but now you are disenchanted. Well, so am I."
+
+Under the influence of this train of thought she grew more and
+more silent. The sun was sinking westward in undimmed splendor,
+but her face was clouded. The air was sweet, balmy, well adapted
+to sentiment and the setting out of trees, but she was growing
+frosty.
+
+"Hiram," she said shortly, "you've got that oak crooked; let me
+hold it." And thereafter she held the trees for the old colored
+man as he filled in the earth around them.
+
+Minturn appeared as oblivious as he was keenly observant. At first
+the change in Sue puzzled and discouraged him; then, as his acute
+mind sought her motives, a rosy light began to dawn upon him. "I
+may be wrong," he thought, "but I'll take my chances in acting as
+if I were right before I go home."
+
+At last Hiram said: "Reckon I'll have to feed de critters again;"
+and he slouched off.
+
+Sue nipped at the young trees further and further away from the
+young man who must "play spy before being lover." The spy helped
+Mr. Banning set out the last tree. Meantime, the complacent farmer
+had mused: "The little girl's safe for another while, anyhow.
+Never saw her more offish; but things looked squally about dinner-
+time. Then, she's only eighteen; time enough years hence." At last
+he said affably, "I'll go in and hasten supper, for you've earned
+it if ever a man did, Mr. Minturn. Then I'll drive you down to the
+evening train." And he hurried away.
+
+Sue's back was toward them, and she did not hear Minturn's step
+until he was close beside her. "All through," he said; "every tree
+out. I congratulate you; for rarely in this vale of tears are
+plans and hopes crowned with better success."
+
+"Oh, yes," she hastened to reply; "I am more than satisfied. I
+hope that you are too."
+
+"I have no reason to complain," he said. "You have stood by your
+morning's bargain, as I have tried to."
+
+"It was your own fault, Mr. Minturn, that it was so one-sided. But
+I've no doubt you enjoy spicing your city life with a little lark
+in the country."
+
+"It WAS a one-sided bargain, and I have had the best of it."
+
+"Perhaps you have," she admitted. "I think supper will be ready by
+the time we are ready for it." And she turned toward the house.
+Then she added, "You must be weary and anxious to get away."
+
+"You were right; my bones DO ache. And look at my hands. I know
+you'll say they need washing; but count the blisters."
+
+"I also said, Mr. Minturn, that you would know better next time.
+So you see I was right then and am right now."
+
+"Are you perfectly sure?"
+
+"I see no reason to think otherwise." In turning, she had faced a
+young sugar-maple which he had aided her in planting early in the
+afternoon. Now she snipped at it nervously with her pruning-
+shears, for he would not budge, and she felt it scarcely polite to
+leave him.
+
+"Well," he resumed, after an instant, "it has a good look, hasn't
+it, for a man to fulfil an obligation literally?"
+
+"Certainly, Mr. Minturn," and there was a tremor in her tone; "but
+you have done a hundred-fold more than I expected, and never were
+under any obligations."
+
+"Then I am free to begin again?"
+
+"You are as free now as you have been all day to do what you
+please." And her shears were closing on the main stem of the
+maple. He caught and stayed her hand. "I don't care!" she cried
+almost passionately. "Come, let us go in and end this foolish
+talk."
+
+"But I do care," he replied, taking the shears from her, yet
+retaining her hand in his strong grasp. "I helped you plant this
+tree, and whenever you see it, whenever you care for it, when, in
+time, you sit under its shade or wonder at its autumn hues, I wish
+you to remember that I told you of my love beside it. Dear little
+girl, do you think I am such a blind fool that I could spend this
+long day with you at your home and not feel sorry that I must ever
+go away? If I could, my very touch should turn the sap of this
+maple into vinegar. To-day I've only tried to show how I can work
+for you. I am eager to begin again, and for life."
+
+At first Sue had tried to withdraw her hand, but its tenseness
+relaxed. As he spoke, she turned her averted face slowly toward
+him, and the rays of the setting sun flashed a deeper crimson into
+her cheeks. Her honest eyes looked into his and were satisfied.
+Then she suddenly gathered the young tree against her heart and
+kissed the stem she had so nearly severed. "This maple is witness
+to what you've said," she faltered. "Ah! but it will be a sugar-
+maple in truth; and if petting will make it live--there, now!
+behave! The idea! right out on this bare lawn! You must wait till
+the screening evergreens grow before--Oh, you audacious--I haven't
+promised anything."
+
+"I promise everything. I'm engaged, and only taking my retaining-
+fees."
+
+"Mother," cried Farmer Banning at the dining-room window, "just
+look yonder!"
+
+"And do you mean to say, John Banning, that you didn't expect it?"
+
+"Why, Sue was growing more and more offish."
+
+"Of course! Don't you remember?"
+
+"Oh, this unlucky birthday! As if trees could take Sue's place!"
+
+"Yah!" chuckled Hiram from the barn door, "I knowed dat ar gem'lin
+was a-diggin' a hole fer hisself on dis farm."
+
+"Mr. Minturn--" Sue began as they came toward the house arm in
+arm.
+
+"Hal--" he interrupted.
+
+"Well, then, Mr. Hal, you must promise me one thing in dead
+earnest. I'm the only chick father and mother have. You must be
+very considerate of them, and let me give them as much of my time
+as I can. This is all that I stipulate; but this I do."
+
+"Sue," he said in mock solemnity, "the prospects are that you'll
+be a widow."
+
+"Why do you make such an absurd remark?"
+
+"Because you have struck amidships the commandment with the
+promise, and your days will be long in the land. You'll outlive
+everybody."
+
+"This will be no joke for father and mother."
+
+So it would appear. They sat in the parlor as if waiting for the
+world to come to an end--as indeed it had, one phase of it, to
+them. Their little girl, in a sense, was theirs no longer.
+
+"Father, mother," said Sue, demurely, "I must break some news to
+you."
+
+"It's broken already," began Mrs. Banning, putting her
+handkerchief to her eyes.
+
+Sue's glance renewed her reproaches for the scene on the lawn; but
+Minturn went promptly forward, and throwing his arm around the
+matron's plump shoulders, gave his first filial kiss.
+
+"Come, mother," he said, "Sue has thought of you both; and I've
+given her a big promise that I won't take any more of her away
+than I can help. And you, sir," wringing the farmer's hand, "will
+often see a city tramp here who will be glad to work for his
+dinner. These overalls are my witness."
+
+Then they became conscious of his absurd figure, and the scene
+ended in laughter that was near akin to tears.
+
+The maple lived, you may rest assured; and Sue's children said
+there never was such sugar as the sap of that tree yielded.
+
+All the hemlocks, oaks, and dogwood thrived as if conscious that
+theirs had been no ordinary transplanting; while Minturn's half-
+jesting prophecy concerning the travellers in the valley was amply
+fulfilled.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+AN UNEXPECTED RESULT
+
+
+"Jack, she played with me deliberately, heartlessly. I can never
+forgive her."
+
+"In that case, Will, I congratulate you. Such a girl isn't worth a
+second thought, and you've made a happy escape."
+
+"No congratulations, if you please. You can talk coolly, because
+in regard to such matters you are cool, and, I may add, a trifle
+cold. Ambition is your mistress, and a musty law-book has more
+attractions for you than any woman living. I'm not so tempered. I
+am subject to the general law of nature, and a woman's love and
+sympathy are essential to success in my life and work."
+
+"That's all right; but there are as good fish--"
+
+"Oh, have done with your trite nonsense," interrupted Will Munson,
+impatiently. "I'd consult you on a point of law in preference to
+most of the gray-beards, but I was a fool to speak of this affair.
+And yet as my most intimate friend--"
+
+"Come, Will, I'm not unfeeling;" and John Ackland rose and put his
+hand on his friend's shoulder. "I admit that the subject is remote
+from my line of thought and wholly beyond my experience. If the
+affair is so serious I shall take it to heart."
+
+"Serious! Is it a slight thing to be crippled for life?"
+
+"Oh, come, now," said Ackland, giving his friend a hearty and
+encouraging thump, "you are sound in mind and limb; what matters a
+scratch on the heart to a man not twenty-five?"
+
+"Very well; I'll say no more about it. When I need a lawyer I'll
+come to you. Good-by; I sail for Brazil in the morning."
+
+"Will, sit down and look me in the eyes," said Ackland,
+decisively. "Will, forgive me. You are in trouble. A man's eyes
+usually tell me more than all his words, and I don't like the
+expression of yours. There is yellow fever in Brazil."
+
+"I know it," was the careless reply.
+
+"What excuse have you for going?"
+
+"Business complications have arisen there, and I promptly
+volunteered to go. My employers were kind enough to hesitate and
+warn me, and to say that they could send a man less valuable to
+them, but I soon overcame their objections."
+
+"That is your excuse for going. The reason I see in your eyes. You
+are reckless, Will."
+
+"I have reason to be."
+
+"I can't agree with you, but I feel for you all the same. Tell me
+all about it, for this is sad news to me. I had hoped to join you
+on the beach in a few days, and to spend August with you and my
+cousin. I confess I am beginning to feel exceedingly vindictive
+toward this pretty little monster, and if any harm comes to you I
+shall be savage enough to scalp her."
+
+"The harm has come already, Jack. I'm hit hard. She showed me a
+mirage of happiness that has made my present world a desert. I am
+reckless; I'm desperate. You may think it is weak and unmanly, but
+you don't know anything about it. Time or the fever may cure me,
+but now I am bankrupt in all that gives value to life. A woman
+with an art so consummate that it seemed artless, deliberately
+evoked the best there was in me, then threw it away as
+indifferently as a cast-off glove."
+
+"Tell me how it came about."
+
+"How can I tell you? How can I in cold blood recall glances,
+words, intonations, the pressure of a hand that seemed alive with
+reciprocal feeling? In addition to her beauty she had the
+irresistible charm of fascination. I was wary at first, but she
+angled for me with a skill that would have disarmed any man who
+did not believe in the inherent falseness of woman. The children
+in the house idolized her, and I have great faith in a child's
+intuitions."
+
+"Oh, that was only a part of her guile," said Ackland, frowningly.
+
+"Probably; at any rate she has taken all the color and zest out of
+my life. I wish some one could pay her back in her own coin. I
+don't suppose she has a heart; but I wish her vanity might be
+wounded in a way that would teach her a lesson never to be
+forgotten."
+
+"It certainly would be a well-deserved retribution," said Ackland,
+musingly.
+
+"Jack, you are the one, of all the world, to administer the
+punishment. I don't believe a woman's smiles ever quickened your
+pulse one beat."
+
+"You are right, Will, it is my cold-bloodedness--to put your
+thought in plain English--that will prove your best ally."
+
+"I only hope that I am not leading you into danger. You will need
+an Indian's stoicism."
+
+"Bah! I may fail ignominiously, and find her vanity invulnerable,
+but I pledge you my word that I will avenge you if it be within
+the compass of my skill. My cousin, Mrs. Alston, may prove a
+useful ally. I think you wrote me that the name of this siren was
+Eva Van Tyne?"
+
+"Yes; I only wish she had the rudiments of a heart, so that she
+might feel in a faint, far-off way a little of the pain she has
+inflicted on me. Don't let her make you falter or grow remorseful,
+Jack. Remember that you have given a pledge to one who may be dead
+before you can fulfil it."
+
+Ackland said farewell to his friend with the fear that he might
+never see him again, and a few days later found himself at a New
+England seaside resort, with a relentless purpose lurking in his
+dark eyes. Mrs. Alston did unconsciously prove a useful ally, for
+her wealth and elegance gave her unusual prestige in the house,
+and in joining her party Ackland achieved immediately all the
+social recognition he desired.
+
+While strolling with this lady on the piazza he observed the
+object of his quest, and was at once compelled to make more
+allowance than he had done hitherto for his friend's discomfiture.
+Two or three children were leaning over the young girl's chair,
+and she was amusing them by some clever caricatures. She was not
+so interested, however, but that she soon noted the new-comer, and
+bestowed upon him from time to time curious and furtive glances.
+That these were not returned seemed to occasion her some surprise,
+for she was not accustomed to be so utterly ignored, even by a
+stranger. A little later Ackland saw her consulting the hotel
+register.
+
+"I have at least awakened her curiosity," he thought.
+
+"I've been waiting for you to ask me who that pretty girl is,"
+said Mrs. Alton, laughing; "you do indeed exceed all men in
+indifference to women."
+
+"I know all about that girl," was the grim reply. "She has played
+the very deuce with my friend Munson."
+
+"Yes," replied Mrs. Alston, indignantly, "it was the most shameful
+piece of coquetry I ever saw. She is a puzzle to me. To the
+children and the old people in the house she is consideration and
+kindness itself; but she appears to regard men of your years as
+legitimate game and is perfectly remorseless. So beware! She is
+dangerous, invulnerable as you imagine yourself to be. She will
+practice her wiles upon you if you give her half a chance, and her
+art has much more than her pretty face to enforce it. She is
+unusually clever."
+
+Ackland's slight shrug was so contemptuous that his cousin was
+nettled, and she thought, "I wish the girl could disturb his
+complacent equanimity just a little. It vexes one to see a man so
+indifferent; it's a slight to woman;" and she determined to give
+Miss Van Tyne the vantage-ground of an introduction at the first
+opportunity.
+
+And this occurred before the evening was over. To her surprise
+Ackland entered into an extended conversation with the enemy.
+"Well," she thought, "if he begins in this style there will soon
+be another victim. Miss Van Tyne can talk to as bright a man as he
+is and hold her own. Meanwhile she will assail him in a hundred
+covert ways. Out of regard for his friend he should have shown
+some disapproval of her; but there he sits quietly talking in the
+publicity of the parlor."
+
+"Mrs. Alston," said a friend at her elbow, "you ought to forewarn
+your cousin and tell him of Mr. Munson's fate."
+
+"He knows all about Mr. Munson," was her reply. "Indeed, the
+latter is his most intimate friend. I suppose my cousin is
+indulging in a little natural curiosity concerning this destroyer
+of masculine peace, and if ever a man could do so in safety he
+can."
+
+"Why so?"
+
+"Well, I never knew so unsusceptible a man. With the exception of
+a few of his relatives, he has never cared for ladies' society."
+
+Mrs. Alston was far astray in supposing that curiosity was
+Ackland's motive in his rather prolonged conversation with Miss
+Van Tyne. It was simply part of his tactics, for he proposed to
+waste no time in skirmishing or in guarded and gradual approaches.
+He would cross weapons at once, and secure his object by a sharp
+and aggressive campaign. His object was to obtain immediately some
+idea of the calibre of the girl's mind, and in this respect he was
+agreeably surprised, for while giving little evidence of thorough
+education, she was unusually intelligent and exceedingly quick in
+her perceptions. He soon learned also that she was gifted with
+more than woman's customary intuition, that she was watching his
+face closely for meanings that he might not choose to express in
+words or else to conceal by his language. While he feared that his
+task would be far more difficult than he expected, and that he
+would have to be extremely guarded in order not to reveal his
+design, he was glad to learn that the foe was worthy of his steel.
+Meanwhile her ability and self-reliance banished all compunction.
+He had no scruples in humbling the pride of a woman who was at
+once so proud, so heartless, and so clever. Nor would the effort
+be wearisome, for she had proved herself both amusing and
+interesting. He might enjoy it quite as much as an intricate law
+case.
+
+Even prejudiced Ackland, as he saw her occasionally on the
+following day, was compelled to admit that she was more than
+pretty. Her features were neither regular nor faultless. Her mouth
+was too large to be perfect, and her nose was not Grecian; but her
+eyes were peculiarly fine and illumined her face, whose chief
+charm lay in its power of expression. If she chose, almost all her
+thoughts and feelings could find their reflex there. The trouble
+was that she could as readily mask her thought and express what
+she did not feel. Her eyes were of the darkest blue and her hair
+seemed light in contrast. It was evident that she had studied
+grace so thoroughly that her manner and carriage appeared
+unstudied and natural. She never seemed self-conscious, and yet no
+one had ever seen her in an ungainly posture or had known her to
+make an awkward gesture. This grace, however, like a finished
+style in writing, was tinged so strongly with her own
+individuality that it appeared original as compared with the
+fashionable monotony which characterized the manners of so many of
+her age. She could not have been much more than twenty; and yet,
+as Mrs. Alston took pains to inform her cousin, she had long been
+in society, adding, "Its homage is her breath of life, and from
+all I hear your friend Munson has had many predecessors. Be on
+your guard."
+
+"Your solicitude in my behalf is quite touching," he replied. "Who
+is this fair buccaneer that has made so many wrecks and exacts so
+heavy a revenue from society? Who has the care of her and what are
+her antecedents?"
+
+"She is an orphan, and possessed, I am told, of considerable
+property in her own name. A forceless, nerveless maiden aunt is
+about the only antecedent we see much of. Her guardian has been
+here once or twice, but practically she is independent."
+
+Miss Van Tyne's efforts to learn something concerning Ackland were
+apparently quite as casual and indifferent and yet were made with
+utmost skill. She knew that Mrs. Alston's friend was something of
+a gossip; and she led her to speak of the subject of her thoughts
+with an indirect finesse that would have amused the young man
+exceedingly could he have been an unobserved witness. When she
+learned that he was Mr. Munson's intimate friend and that he was
+aware of her treatment of the latter, she was somewhat
+disconcerted. One so forewarned might not become an easy prey. But
+the additional fact that he was almost a woman-hater put her upon
+her mettle at once, and she felt that here was a chance for a
+conquest such as she had never made before. She now believed that
+she had discovered the key to his indifference. He was ready
+enough to amuse himself with her as a clever woman, but knew her
+too well to bestow upon her even a friendly thought.
+
+"If I can bring him to my feet it will be a triumph indeed," she
+murmured exultantly; "and at my feet he shall be if he gives me
+half a chance." Seemingly he gave her every chance that she could
+desire, and while he scarcely made any effort to seek her society,
+she noted with secret satisfaction that he often appeared as if
+accidentally near her, and that he ever made it the easiest and
+most natural thing in the world for her to join him. His
+conversation was often as gay and unconventional as she could
+wish; but she seldom failed to detect in it an uncomfortable
+element of satire and irony. He always left her dissatisfied with
+herself and with a depressing consciousness that she had made no
+impression upon him.
+
+His conquest grew into an absorbing desire; and she unobtrusively
+brought to bear upon him every art and fascination that she
+possessed. Her toilets were as exquisite as they were simple. The
+children were made to idolize her more than ever; but Ackland was
+candid enough to admit that this was not all guile on her part,
+for she was evidently in sympathy with the little people, who can
+rarely be imposed upon by any amount of false interest. Indeed, he
+saw no reason to doubt that she abounded in good-nature toward all
+except the natural objects of her ruling passion; but the very
+skill and deliberateness with which she sought to gratify this
+passion greatly increased his vindictive feeling. He saw how
+naturally and completely his friend had been deceived and how
+exquisite must have been the hopes and anticipations so falsely
+raised. Therefore he smiled more grimly at the close of each
+succeeding day, and was more than ever bent upon the
+accomplishment of his purpose.
+
+At length Miss Van Tyne changed her tactics and grew quite
+oblivious to Ackland's presence in the house; but she found him
+apparently too indifferent to observe the fact. She then permitted
+one of her several admirers to become devoted; Ackland did not
+offer the protest of even a glance. He stood, as it were, just
+where she had left him, ready for an occasional chat, stroll, or
+excursion, if the affair came about naturally and without much
+effort on his part. She found that she could neither induce him to
+seek her nor annoy him by an indifference which she meant should
+be more marked than his own.
+
+Some little time after there came a windy day when the surf was so
+heavy that there were but few bathers. Ackland was a good swimmer,
+and took his plunge as usual. He was leaving the water when Miss
+Van Tyne ran down the beach and was about to dart through the
+breakers in her wonted fearless style.
+
+"Be careful," he said to her; "the undertow is strong, and the man
+who has charge of the bathing is ill and not here. The tide is
+changing--in fact, running out already, I believe." But she would
+not even look at him, much less answer. As there were other
+gentlemen present, he started for his bath-house, but had
+proceeded but a little way up the beach before a cry brought him
+to the water's edge instantly.
+
+"Something is wrong with Miss Van Tyne," cried half a dozen
+voices. "She ventured out recklessly, and it seems as if she
+couldn't get back."
+
+At that moment her form rose on the crest of a wave, and above the
+thunder of the surf came her faint cry, "Help!"
+
+The other bathers stood irresolute, for she was dangerously far
+out, and the tide had evidently turned. Ackland, on the contrary,
+dashed through the breakers and then, in his efforts for speed,
+dived through the waves nearest to the shore. When he reached the
+place where he expected to find her he saw nothing for a moment or
+two but great crested billows that every moment were increasing in
+height under the rising wind. For a moment he feared that she had
+perished, and the thought that the beautiful creature had met her
+death so suddenly and awfully made him almost sick and faint. An
+instant later, however, a wave threw her up from the trough of the
+sea into full vision somewhat on his right, and a few strong
+strokes brought him to her side.
+
+"Oh, save me!" she gasped.
+
+"Don't cling to me," he said sternly. "Do as I bid you. Strike out
+for the shore if you are able; if not, lie on your back and
+float."
+
+She did the latter, for now that aid had reached her she
+apparently recovered from her panic and was perfectly tractable.
+He placed his left hand under her and struck out quietly, aware
+that the least excitement causing exhaustion on his part might
+cost both of them their lives.
+
+As they approached the shore a rope was thrown to them, and
+Ackland, who felt his strength giving way, seized it--desperately.
+He passed his arm around his companion with a grasp that almost
+made her breathless, and they were dragged half suffocated through
+the water until strong hands on either side rushed them through
+the breakers.
+
+Miss Van Tyne for a moment or two stood dazed and panting, then
+disengaged herself from the rather warm support of the devoted
+admirer whom she had tried to play against Ackland, and tried to
+walk, but after a few uncertain steps fell senseless on the sand,
+thus for the moment drawing to herself the attention of the
+increasing throng. Ackland, glad to escape notice, was staggering
+off to his bath-house when several ladies, more mindful of his
+part in the affair than the men had been, overtook him with a fire
+of questions and plaudits.
+
+"Please leave me alone," he said almost savagely, without looking
+around.
+
+"What a bear he is! Any one else would have been a little
+complacent over such an exploit," they chorused, as they followed
+the unconscious girl, who was now being carried to the hotel.
+
+Ackland locked the door of his little apartment and sank panting
+on the bench. "Maledictions on her!" he muttered. "At one time
+there was a better chance of her being fatal to me than to Munson
+with his yellow-fever tragedy in prospect. Her recklessness to-day
+was perfectly insane. If she tries it again she may drown for all
+that I care, or at least ought to care." His anger appeared to act
+like a tonic, and he was soon ready to return to the house. A
+dozen sprang forward to congratulate him, but they found such
+impatience and annoyance at all reference to the affair that with
+many surmises the topic was dropped.
+
+"You are a queer fellow," remarked his privileged cousin, as he
+took her out to dinner. "Why don't you let people speak naturally
+about the matter, or rather, why don't you pose as the hero of the
+occasion?"
+
+"Because the whole affair was most unnatural, and I am deeply
+incensed. In a case of necessity I am ready to risk my life,
+although it has unusual attractions for me; but I'm no
+melodramatic hero looking for adventures. What necessity was there
+in this case? It is the old story of Munson over again in another
+guise. The act was that of an inconsiderate, heartless woman who
+follows her impulses and inclinations, no matter what may be the
+consequences." After a moment he added less indignantly, "I must
+give her credit for one thing, angry as I am--she behaved well in
+the water, otherwise she would have drowned me."
+
+"She is not a fool. Most women would have drowned you."
+
+"She is indeed not a fool; therefore she's the more to blame. If
+she is ever so reckless again, may I be asleep in my room. Of
+course one can't stand by and see a woman drown, no matter who or
+what she is."
+
+"Jack, what made her so reckless?" Mrs. Alston asked, with a
+sudden intelligence lighting up her face.
+
+"Hang it all! How should I know? What made her torture Munson? She
+follows her impulses, and they are not always conducive to any
+one's well-being, not even her own."
+
+"Mark my words, she has never shown this kind of recklessness
+before."
+
+"Oh, yes, she has. She was running her horse to death the other
+hot morning and nearly trampled on a child;" and he told of an
+unexpected encounter while he was taking a rather extended ramble.
+
+"Well," exclaimed Mrs. Alston, smiling significantly, "I think I
+understand her symptoms better than you do. If you are as cold-
+blooded as you seem, I may have to interfere."
+
+"Oh, bah!" he answered impatiently. "Pardon me, but I should
+despise myself forever should I become sentimental, knowing what I
+do."
+
+"Jack, had you no compunctions when fearing that such a beautiful
+girl might perish? We are going to have an awful night. Hear the
+wind whistle and moan, and the sky is already black with clouds.
+The roar of the surface grows louder every hour. Think of that
+lovely form being out in those black angry waves, darted at and
+preyed upon by horrible slimy monsters. Oh, it fairly makes my
+flesh creep!"
+
+"And mine too," he said with a strong gesture of disgust;
+"especially when I remember that I should have kept her company,
+for of course I could not return without her. I confess that when
+at first I could not find her I was fairly sick at the thought of
+her fate. But remember how uncalled for it all was--quite as much
+so as that poor Will Munson is on his way to die with the yellow
+fever, like enough."
+
+"Jack," said his cousin, affectionately, laying her hand on his
+arm, "blessings on your courage to-day! If what might have
+happened so easily had occurred, I could never have looked upon
+the sea again without a shudder. I should have been tormented by a
+horrible memory all my life. It was brave and noble--"
+
+"Oh, hush!" he said angrily. "I won't hear another word about it
+even from you. I'm not brave and noble. I went because I was
+compelled to go; I hated to go. I hate the girl, and have more
+reason now than ever. If we had both drowned, no doubt there would
+have been less trouble in the world. There would have been one
+lawyer the less, and a coquette extinguished. Now we shall both
+prey on society in our different ways indefinitely."
+
+"Jack, you are in an awful mood to-day."
+
+"I am; never was in a worse."
+
+"Having so narrowly escaped death, you ought to be subdued and
+grateful."
+
+"On the contrary, I'm inclined to profanity. Excuse me; don't wish
+any dessert. I'll try a walk and a cigar. You will now be glad to
+be rid of me on any terms."
+
+"Stay, Jack. See, Miss Van Tyne has so far recovered as to come
+down. She looked unutterable things at you as she entered."
+
+"Of course she did. Very few of her thoughts concerning me or
+other young men would sound well if uttered. Tell your friends to
+let this topic alone, or I shall be rude to them," and without a
+glance toward the girl he had rescued he left the dining-room.
+
+"Well, well," murmured Mrs. Alston, "I never saw Jack in such a
+mood before. It is quite as unaccountable as Miss Tyne's
+recklessness. I wonder what is the matter with HIM."
+
+Ackland was speedily driven back from his walk by the rain, which
+fact he did not regret, for he found himself exhausted and
+depressed. Seeking a retired piazza in order to be alone, he sat
+down with his hat drawn over his eyes and smoked furiously. Before
+very long, however, he was startled out of a painful revery by a
+timid voice saying:
+
+"Mr. Ackland, won't you permit me to thank you?"
+
+He rose. Miss Van Tyne stood before him with outstretched hand. He
+did not notice it, but bowing coldly, said:
+
+"Please consider that you have thanked me and let the subject
+drop."
+
+"Do not be so harsh with me," she pleaded. "I cannot help it if
+you are. Mr. Ackland, you saved my life."
+
+"Possibly."
+
+"And possibly you think that it is scarcely worth saving."
+
+"Possibly your own conscience suggested that thought to you."
+
+"You are heartless," she burst out indignantly. He began to laugh.
+"That's a droll charge for you to make," he said.
+
+She looked at him steadfastly for a moment, and then murmured:
+"You are thinking of your friend, Mr. Munson."
+
+"That would be quite natural. How many more can you think of?"
+
+"You are indeed unrelenting," she faltered, tears coming into her
+eyes; "but I cannot forget that but for you _I_ should now be out
+there"--and she indicated the sea by a gesture, then covered her
+face with her hands, and shuddered.
+
+"Do not feel under obligations. I should have been compelled to do
+as much for any human being. You seem to forget that I stood an
+even chance of being out there with you, and that there was no
+more need of the risk than there was that my best friend's life
+should be blight--"
+
+"You--you out there?" she cried, springing toward him and pointing
+to the sea.
+
+"Certainly. You cannot suppose that having once found you, I could
+come ashore without you. As it was, my strength was rapidly giving
+way, and were it not for the rope--"
+
+"Oh, forgive me," she cried passionately, seizing his hand in
+spite of him. "It never entered my mind that you could drown. I
+somehow felt that nothing could harm you. I was reckless--I didn't
+know what I was doing--I don't understand myself any more.
+Please--please forgive me, or I shall not sleep to-night."
+
+"Certainly," he said lightly, "if you will not refer to our little
+episode again."
+
+"Please don't speak in that way," she sighed, turning away.
+
+"I have complied with your request."
+
+"I suppose I must be content," she resumed sadly. Then turning her
+head slowly toward him she added hesitatingly: "Will you forgive
+me for--for treating your friend--"
+
+"No," he replied, with such stern emphasis that she shrank from
+him and trembled.
+
+"You are indeed heartless," she faltered, as she turned to leave
+him.
+
+"Miss Van Tyne," he said indignantly, "twice you have charged me
+with being heartless. Your voice and manner indicate that I would
+be unnatural and unworthy of respect were I what you charge. In
+the name of all that's rational what does this word 'heartless'
+mean to you? Where was your heart when you sent my friend away so
+wretched and humbled that he is virtually seeking the death from
+which you are so glad to escape?"
+
+"I did not love him," she protested faintly.
+
+He laughed bitterly, and continued, "Love! That's a word which I
+believe has no meaning for you at all, but it had for him. You are
+a remarkably clever woman, Miss Van Tyne. You have brains in
+abundance. See, I do you justice. What is more, you are beautiful
+and can be so fascinating that a man who believed in you might
+easily worship you. You made him believe in you. You tried to
+beguile me into a condition that with my nature would be ruin
+indeed. You never had the baby plea of a silly, shallow woman. I
+took pains to find that out the first evening we met. In your art
+of beguiling an honest, trusting man you were as perfect as you
+were remorseless, and you understood exactly what you were doing."
+
+For a time she seemed overwhelmed by his lava-like torrent of
+words, and stood with bowed head and shrinking, trembling form;
+but when he ceased she turned to him and said bitterly and
+emphatically:
+
+"I did NOT understand what I was doing, nor would my brain have
+taught me were I all intellect like yourself. I half wish you had
+left me to drown," and with a slight, despairing gesture she
+turned away and did not look back.
+
+Ackland's face lighted up with a sudden flash of intelligence and
+deep feeling. He started to recall her, hesitated, and watched her
+earnestly until she disappeared; then looking out on the scowling
+ocean, he took off his hat and exclaimed in a deep, low tone:
+
+"By all that's divine, can this be? Is it possible that through
+the suffering of her own awakening heart she is learning to know
+the pain she has given to others? Should this be true, the affair
+is taking an entirely new aspect, and Munson will be avenged as
+neither of us ever dreamed would be possible."
+
+He resumed his old position and thought long and deeply, then
+rejoined his cousin, who was somewhat surprised to find that his
+bitter mood had given place to his former composure.
+
+"How is this, Jack?" she asked. "As the storm grows wilder
+without, you become more serene."
+
+"Only trying to make amends for my former bearishness," he said
+carelessly, but with a little rising color.
+
+"I don't understand you at all," she continued discontentedly. "I
+saw you sulking in that out-of-the-way corner, and I saw Miss Van
+Tyne approach you hesitatingly and timidly, with the purpose, no
+doubt, of thanking you. Of course I did not stay to watch, but a
+little later I met Miss Van Tyne, and she looked white and rigid.
+She has not left her room since."
+
+"You take a great interest in Miss Van Tyne. It is well you are
+not in my place."
+
+"I half wish I was and had your chances. You are more pitiless
+than the waves from which you saved her."
+
+"I can't help being just what I am," he said coldly. "Good-night."
+And he too disappeared for the rest of the evening.
+
+The rain continued to fall in blinding torrents, and the building
+fairly trembled under the violence of the wind. The guests drew
+together in the lighted rooms, and sought by varied amusements to
+pass the time until the fierceness of the storm abated, few caring
+to retire while the uproar of the elements was so great.
+
+At last as the storm passed away, and the late-rising moon threw a
+sickly gleam on the tumultuous waters, Eva looked from her window
+with sleepless eyes, thinking sadly and bitterly of the past and
+future. Suddenly a dark figure appeared on the beach in the track
+of the moonlight. She snatched an opera-glass, but could not
+recognize the solitary form. The thought would come, however, that
+it was Ackland; and if it were, what were his thoughts and what
+place had she in them? Why was he watching so near the spot that
+might have been their burial-place?
+
+"At least he shall not think that I can stolidly sleep after what
+has occurred," she thought, and she turned up her light, opened
+her window, and sat down by it again. Whoever the unseasonable
+rambler might be, he appeared to recognize the gleam from her
+window, for he walked hastily down the beach and disappeared.
+After a time she darkened her room again and waited in vain for
+his return. "If it were he, he shuns even the slightest
+recognition," she thought despairingly; and the early dawn was not
+far distant when she fell into an unquiet sleep.
+
+For the next few days Miss Van Tyne was a puzzle to all except
+Mrs. Alston. She was quite unlike the girl she had formerly been,
+and she made no effort to disguise the fact. In the place of her
+old exuberance of life and spirits, there was lassitude and great
+depression. The rich color ebbed steadily from her face, and dark
+lines under her eyes betokened sleepless nights. She saw the many
+curious glances in her direction, but apparently did not care what
+was thought or surmised. Were it not that her manner to Ackland
+was so misleading, the tendency to couple their names together
+would have been far more general. She neither sought nor shunned
+his society; in fact, she treated him as she did the other
+gentlemen of her acquaintance. She took him at his word. He had
+said he would forgive her on condition that she would not speak of
+what he was pleased to term that "little episode," and she never
+referred to it.
+
+Her aunt was as much at fault as the others, and one day
+querulously complained to Mrs. Alston that she was growing anxious
+about Eva. "At first I thought she was disappointed over the
+indifference of that icy cousin of yours; but she does not appear
+to care a straw for him. When I mention his name she speaks of him
+in a natural, grateful way, then her thoughts appear to wander off
+to some matter that is troubling her. I can't find out whether she
+is ill or whether she has heard some bad news of which she will
+not speak. She never gave me or any one that I know of much of her
+confidence."
+
+Mrs. Alston listened but made no comments. She was sure she was
+right in regard to Miss Van Tyne's trouble, but her cousin
+mystified her. Ackland had become perfectly inscrutable. As far as
+she could judge by any word or act of his he had simply lost his
+interest in Miss Van Tyne, and that was all that could be said;
+and yet a fine instinct tormented Mrs. Alston with the doubt that
+this was not true, and that the young girl was the subject of a
+sedulously concealed scrutiny. Was he watching for his friend or
+for his own sake, or was he, in a spirit of retaliation, enjoying
+the suffering of one who had made others suffer? His reserve was
+so great that she could not pierce it, and his caution baffled
+even her vigilance. But she waited patiently, assured that the
+little drama must soon pass into a more significant phase.
+
+And she was right. Miss Van Tyne could not maintain the line of
+action she had resolved upon. She had thought, "I won't try to
+appear happy when I am not. I won't adopt the conventional mask of
+gayety when the heart is wounded. How often I have seen through it
+and smiled at the transparent farce--farce it seemed then, but I
+now fear it was often tragedy. At any rate there was neither
+dignity nor deception in it. I have done with being false, and so
+shall simply act myself and be a true woman. Though my heart break
+a thousand times, not even by a glance shall I show that it is
+breaking for him. If he or others surmise the truth, they may; let
+them. It is a part of my penance; and I will show the higher,
+stronger pride of one who makes no vain, useless pretence to happy
+indifference, but who can maintain a self-control so perfect that
+even Mrs. Alston shall not see one unmaidenly advance or
+overture."
+
+She succeeded for a time, as we have seen, but she overrated her
+will and underrated her heart, that with deepening intensity
+craved the love denied her. With increasing frequency she said to
+herself, "I must go away. My only course is to hide my weakness
+and never see him again. He is inflexible, yet his very obduracy
+increases my love a hundred-fold."
+
+At last after a lonely walk on the beach she concluded, "My
+guardian must take me home on Monday next. He comes to-night to
+spend Sunday with us, and I will make preparations to go at once."
+
+Although her resolution did not fail her, she walked forward more
+and more slowly, her dejection and weariness becoming almost
+overpowering. As she was turning a sharp angle of rocks that
+jutted well down to the water she came face to face with Ackland
+and Mrs. Alston. She was off her guard; and her thoughts of him
+had been so absorbing that she felt he must be conscious of them.
+She flushed painfully and hurried by with slight recognition and
+downcast face, but she had scarcely passed them when, acting under
+a sudden impulse, she stopped and said in a low tone:
+
+"Mr. Ackland--"
+
+He turned expectantly toward her. For a moment she found it
+difficult to speak, then ignoring the presence of Mrs. Alston,
+resolutely began:
+
+"Mr. Ackland, I must refer once more to a topic which you have in
+a sense forbidden. I feel partially absolved, however, for I do
+not think you have forgiven me anything. At any rate I must ask
+your pardon once more for having so needlessly and foolishly
+imperilled your life. I say these words now because I may not have
+another opportunity; we leave on Monday." With this she raised her
+eyes to his with an appeal for a little kindness which Mrs. Alston
+was confident could not be resisted. Indeed, she was sure that she
+saw a slight nervous tremor in Ackland's hands, as if he found it
+hard to control himself. Then he appeared to grow rigid. Lifting
+his hat, he said gravely and unresponsively:
+
+"Miss Van Tyne, you now surely have made ample amends. Please
+forget the whole affair."
+
+She turned from him at once, but not so quickly but that both he
+and his cousin saw the bitter tears that would come. A moment
+later she was hidden by the angle of the rock. As long as she was
+visible Ackland watched her without moving, then he slowly turned
+to his cousin, his face as inscrutable as ever. She walked at his
+side for a few moments in ill-concealed impatience, then stopped
+and said decisively:
+
+"I'll go no further with you to-day. I am losing all respect for
+you."
+
+Without speaking, he turned to accompany her back to the house.
+His reticence and coldness appeared to annoy her beyond endurance,
+for she soon stopped and sat down on a ledge of the rocks that
+jutted down the beach where they had met Miss Van Tyne.
+
+"John, you are the most unnatural man I ever saw in my life," she
+began angrily.
+
+"What reason have you for so flattering an opinion," he asked
+coolly.
+
+"You have been giving reason for it every day since you came
+here," she resumed hotly. "I always heard it said that you had no
+heart; but I defended you and declared that your course toward
+your mother even when a boy showed that you had, and that you
+would prove it some day. But I now believe that you are
+unnaturally cold, heartless, and unfeeling. I had no objection to
+your wounding Miss Van Tyne's vanity and encouraged you when that
+alone bid fair to suffer. But when she proved she had a heart and
+that you had awakened it, she deserved at least kindness and
+consideration on your part. If you could not return her affection,
+you should have gone away at once; but I believe that you have
+stayed for the sole and cruel purpose of gloating over her
+suffering."
+
+"She has not suffered more than my friend, or than I would if--"
+
+"You indeed! The idea of your suffering from any such cause! I
+half believe you came here with the deliberate purpose of avenging
+your friend, and that you are keeping for his inspection a diary
+in which the poor girl's humiliation to-day will form the hateful
+climax."
+
+They did not dream that the one most interested was near. Miss Van
+Tyne had felt too faint and sorely wounded to go further without
+rest. Believing that the rocks would hide her from those whose
+eyes she would most wish to shun, she had thrown herself down
+beyond the angle and was shedding the bitterest tears that she had
+ever known. Suddenly she heard Mrs. Alston's words but a short
+distance away, and was so overcome by their import that she
+hesitated what to do. She would not meet them again for the world,
+but felt so weak that she doubted whether she could drag herself
+away without being discovered, especially as the beach trended off
+to the left so sharply a little further on that they might
+discover her. While she was looking vainly for some way of escape
+she heard Ackland's words and Mrs. Alston's surmise in reply that
+he had come with the purpose of revenge. She was so stung by their
+apparent truth that she resolved to clamber up through an opening
+of the rocks if the thing were possible. Panting and exhausted she
+gained the summit, and then hastened to an adjacent grove, as some
+wounded, timid creature would run to the nearest cover. Ackland
+had heard sounds and had stepped around the point of the rocks
+just in time to see her disappearing above the bank. Returning to
+Mrs. Alston, he said impatiently:
+
+"In view of your opinions my society can have no attractions for
+you. Shall I accompany you to the hotel?"
+
+"No," was the angry reply. "I'm in no mood to speak to you again
+to-day."
+
+He merely bowed and turned as if to pursue his walk. The moment
+she was hidden, however, he also climbed the rocks in time to see
+Miss Van Tyne entering the grove. With swift and silent tread he
+followed her, but could not at once discover her hiding-place. At
+last passionate sobs made it evident that she was concealed behind
+a great oak a little on his left. Approaching cautiously, he heard
+her moan:
+
+"Oh, this is worse than death! He makes me feel as if even God had
+no mercy for me. But I will expiate my wrong; I will, at the
+bitterest sacrifice which a woman can make."
+
+She sprang up to meet Ackland standing with folded arms before
+her. She started violently and leaned against the tree for
+support. But the weakness was momentary, for she wiped the tears
+from her eyes, and then turned to him so quietly that only her
+extreme pallor proved that she realized the import of her words.
+
+"Mr. Ackland," she asked, "have you Mr. Munson's address?"
+
+It was his turn now to start, but he merely answered: "Yes."
+
+"Do--do you think he still cares for me?"
+
+"Undoubtedly."
+
+"Since then you are so near a friend, will you write to him that I
+will try"--she turned away and would not look at him as, after a
+moment's hesitation, she concluded her sentence--"I will try to
+make him as happy as I can."
+
+"Do you regret your course?" he asked with a slight tremor in his
+voice.
+
+"I regret that I misled--that I wronged him beyond all words. I am
+willing to make all the amends in my power."
+
+"Do you love him?"
+
+She now turned wholly away and shook her head.
+
+"And yet you would marry him?"
+
+"Yes, if he wished it, knowing all the truth."
+
+"Can you believe he would wish it?" he asked indignantly. "Can you
+believe that any man--"
+
+"Then avenge him to your cruel soul's content," she exclaimed
+passionately. "Tell him that I have no heart to give to him or to
+any one. Through no effort or fault of mine I overheard Mrs.
+Alston's words and yours. I know your design against me. Assuage
+your friend's grief by assuring him of your entire success, of
+which you are already so well aware. Tell him how you triumphed
+over an untaught, thoughtless girl who was impelled merely by the
+love of power and excitement, as you are governed by ambition and
+a remorseless will. I did not know--I did not understand how cruel
+I was, although now that I do know I shall never forgive myself.
+But if you had the heart of a man you might have seen that you
+were subjecting me to torture. I did not ask or expect that you
+should care for me; but I had a right to hope for a little
+kindness, a little manly and delicate consideration, a little
+healing sympathy for the almost mortal wound that you have made.
+But I now see that you have stood by and watched like a grand
+inquisitor. Tell your friend that you have transformed the
+thoughtless girl into a suffering woman. I cannot go to Brazil. I
+cannot face dangers that might bring rest. I must keep my place in
+society--keep it too under a hundred observant and curious eyes.
+You have seen it all of late in this house; I was too wretched to
+care. It was a part of my punishment, and I accepted it. I would
+not be false again even in trying to conceal a secret which it is
+like death to a woman to reveal. I only craved one word of
+kindness from you. Had I received it, I would have gone away in
+silence and suffered in silence. But your course and what I have
+heard have made me reckless and despairing. You do not leave me
+even the poor consolation of self-sacrifice. You are my stony-
+hearted fate. I wish you had left me to drown. Tell your friend
+that I am more wretched than he ever can be, because I am a woman.
+Will he be satisfied?"
+
+"He ought to be," was the low, husky reply.
+
+"Are you proud of your triumph?"
+
+"No, I am heartily ashamed of it; but I have kept a pledge that
+will probably cost me far more than it has you."
+
+"A pledge?"
+
+"Yes, my pledge to make you suffer as far as possible as he
+suffered."
+
+She put her hand to her side as if she had received a wound, and
+after a moment said wearily and coldly:
+
+"Well, tell him that you succeeded, and be content;" and she
+turned to leave him.
+
+"Stay," he cried impetuously. "It is now your turn. Take your
+revenge."
+
+"My revenge?" she repeated in unfeigned astonishment.
+
+"Yes, your revenge. I have loved you from the moment I hoped you
+had a woman's heart, yes, and before--when I feared I might not be
+able to save your life. I know it now, though the very thought of
+it enraged me then. I have watched and waited more to be sure that
+you had a woman's heart than for aught else, though a false sense
+of honor kept me true to my pledge. After I met you on the beach I
+determined at once to break my odious bond and place myself at
+your mercy. You may refuse me in view of my course--you probably
+will; but every one in that house there shall know that you
+refused me, and your triumph shall be more complete than mine."
+
+She looked into his face with an expression of amazement and
+doubt; but instead of coldness, there was now a devotion and
+pleading that she had never seen before.
+
+She was too confused and astounded, however, to comprehend his
+words immediately, nor could the impression of his hostility pass
+away readily.
+
+"You are mocking me," she faltered, scarcely knowing what she
+said.
+
+"I cannot blame you that you think me capable of mocking the noble
+candor which has cost you so dear, as I can now understand. I
+cannot ask you to believe that I appreciate your heroic impulse of
+self-sacrifice--your purpose to atone for wrong by inflicting
+irreparable wrong on yourself. It is natural that you should think
+of me only as an instrument of revenge with no more feeling than
+some keen-edged weapon would have. This also is the inevitable
+penalty of my course. When I speak of my love I cannot complain if
+you smile in bitter incredulity. But I have at least proved that I
+have a resolute will and that I keep my word; and I again assure
+you that it shall be known this very night that you have refused
+me, that I offered you my hand, that you already had my heart,
+where your image is enshrined with that of my mother, and that I
+entreated you to be my wife. My cousin alone guessed my miserable
+triumph; all shall know of yours."
+
+As he spoke with impassioned earnestness, the confusion passed
+from her mind. She felt the truth of his words; she knew that her
+ambitious dream had been fulfilled, and that she had achieved the
+conquest of a man upon whom all others had smiled in vain. But how
+immeasurably different were her emotions from those which she had
+once anticipated! Not her beauty, not her consummate skill in
+fascination had wrought this miracle, but her woman's heart,
+awakened at last; and it thrilled with such unspeakable joy that
+she turned away to hide its reflex in her face. He was misled by
+the act into believing that she could not forgive him, and yet was
+perplexed when she murmured with a return of her old piquant
+humor:
+
+"You are mistaken, Mr. Ackland; it shall never be known that I
+refused you."
+
+"How can you prevent it?"
+
+"If your words are sincere, you will submit to such terms as I
+choose to make."
+
+"I am sincere, and my actions shall prove it; but I shall permit
+no mistaken self-sacrifice on your part, nor any attempt to shield
+me from the punishment I well deserve."
+
+She suddenly turned upon him a radiant face in which he read his
+happiness, and faltered:
+
+"Jack, I do believe you, although the change seems wrought by some
+heavenly magic. But it will take a long time to pay you up. I hope
+to be your dear torment for a lifetime."
+
+He caught her in such a strong, impetuous embrace that she gasped:
+
+"I thought you were--cold to our sex."
+
+"It's not your sex that I am clasping, but you--YOU, my Eve. Like
+the first man, I have won my bride under the green trees and
+beneath the open sky."
+
+"Yes, Jack; and I give you my whole heart as truly as did the
+first woman when there was but one man in all the world. That is
+MY REVENGE."
+
+This is what Will Munson wrote some weeks later:
+
+"Well, Jack, I've had the yellow fever, and it was the most
+fortunate event of my life. I was staying with a charming family,
+and they would not permit my removal to a hospital. One of my
+bravest and most devoted nurses has consented to become my wife. I
+hope you punished that little wretch Eva Van Tyne as she
+deserved."
+
+"Confound your fickle soul!" muttered Ackland. "I punished her as
+she did not deserve; and I risked more than life in doing so. If
+her heart had not been as good as gold and as kind as Heaven she
+never would have looked at me again."
+
+Ackland is quite as indifferent to the sex as ever, but Eva has
+never complained that he was cold to her.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+A CHRISTMAS-EVE SUIT
+
+
+The Christmas holidays had come, and with them a welcome vacation
+for Hedley Marstern. Although as yet a briefless young lawyer, he
+had a case in hand which absorbed many of his thoughts--the
+conflicting claims of two young women in his native village on the
+Hudson. It must not be imagined that the young women were pressing
+their claims except as they did so unconsciously, by virtue of
+their sex and various charms. Nevertheless, Marstern was not the
+first lawyer who had clients over whom midnight oil was burned,
+they remaining unaware of the fact.
+
+If not yet a constitutional attorney, he was at least
+constitutionally one. Falling helplessly in love with one girl
+simplifies matters. There are no distracting pros and cons--
+nothing required but a concentration of faculties to win the
+enslaver, and so achieve mastery. Marstern did not appear amenable
+to the subtle influences which blind the eyes and dethrone reason,
+inspiring in its place an overwhelming impulse to capture a
+fortuitous girl because (to a heated imagination) she surpasses
+all her sex. Indeed, he was level-headed enough to believe that he
+would never capture any such girl; but he hoped to secure one who
+promised to make as good a wife as he would try to be a husband,
+and with a fair amount of self-esteem, he was conscious of
+imperfections. Therefore, instead of fancying that any of his fair
+acquaintances were angels, he had deliberately and, as some may
+think, in a very cold-blooded fashion, endeavored to discover what
+they actually were. He had observed that a good deal of prose
+followed the poetry of wooing and the lunacy of the honeymoon; and
+he thought it might be well to criticise a little before marriage
+as well as after it.
+
+There were a number of charming girls in the social circle of his
+native town; and he had, during later years, made himself quite
+impartially agreeable to them. Indeed, without much effort on his
+part he had become what is known as a general favorite. He had
+been too diligent a student to become a society man, but was ready
+enough in vacation periods to make the most of every country
+frolic, and even on great occasions to rush up from the city and
+return at some unearthly hour in the morning when his partners in
+the dance were not half through their dreams. While on these
+occasions he had shared in the prevailing hilarity, he
+nevertheless had the presentiment that some one of the laughing,
+light-footed girls would one day pour his coffee and send him to
+his office in either a good or a bad mood to grapple with the
+problems awaiting him there. He had in a measure decided that when
+he married it should be to a girl whom he had played with in
+childhood and whom he knew a good deal about, and not to a chance
+acquaintance of the world at large. So, beneath all his
+diversified gallantries he had maintained a quiet little policy of
+observation, until his thoughts had gradually gathered around two
+of his young associates who, unconsciously to themselves, as we
+have said, put in stronger and stronger claims every time he saw
+them. They asserted these claims in the only way in which he would
+have recognized them--by being more charming, agreeable, and, as
+he fancied, by being better than the others. He had not made them
+aware, even by manner, of the distinction accorded to them; and as
+yet he was merely a friend.
+
+But the time had come, he believed, for definite action. While he
+weighed and considered, some prompter fellows might take the case
+out of his hands entirely; therefore he welcomed this vacation and
+the opportunities it afforded.
+
+The festivities began with what is termed in the country a "large
+party"; and Carrie Mitchell and Lottie Waldo were both there,
+resplendent in new gowns made for the occasion. Marstern thought
+them both charming. They danced equally well and talked nonsense
+with much the same ease and vivacity. He could not decide which
+was the prettier, nor did the eyes and attentions of others afford
+him any aid. They were general favorites, as well as himself,
+although it was evident that to some they might become more,
+should they give encouragement. But they were apparently in the
+heyday of their girlhood, and thus far had preferred miscellaneous
+admiration to individual devotion. By the time the evening was
+over Marstern felt that if life consisted of large parties he
+might as well settle the question by the toss of a copper.
+
+It must not be supposed that he was such a conceited prig as to
+imagine that such a fortuitous proceeding, or his best efforts
+afterward, could settle the question as it related to the girls.
+It would only decide his own procedure. He was like an old
+marauding baron, in honest doubt from which town he can carry off
+the richest booty--that is, in case he can capture any one of
+them. His overtures for capitulation might be met with the "slings
+and arrows of outrageous fortune" and he be sent limping off the
+field. Nevertheless, no man regrets that he must take the
+initiative, and he would be less than a man who would fear to do
+so. When it came to this point in the affair, Marstern shrugged
+his shoulders and thought, "I must take my chances like the rest."
+But he wished to be sure that he had attained this point, and not
+lay siege to one girl only to wish afterward it had been the
+other.
+
+His course that evening proved that he not only had a legal cast
+of mind but also a judicial one. He invited both Miss Mitchell and
+Miss Waldo to take a sleigh-ride with him the following evening,
+fancying that when sandwiched between them in the cutter he could
+impartially note his impressions. His unsuspecting clients
+laughingly accepted, utterly unaware of the momentous character of
+the trial scene before them.
+
+As Marstern smoked a cigar before retiring that night, he admitted
+to himself that it was rather a remarkable court that was about to
+be held. He was the only advocate for the claims of each, and
+finally he proposed to take a seat on the bench and judge between
+them. Indeed, before he slept he decided to take that august
+position at once, and maintain a judicial impartiality while
+noting his impressions.
+
+Christmas Eve happened to be a cold, clear, star-lit night; and
+when Marstern drove to Miss Waldo's door, he asked himself, "Could
+a fellow ask for anything daintier and finer" than the red-lipped,
+dark-eyed girl revealed by the hall-lamp as she tripped lightly
+out, her anxious mamma following her with words of unheeded
+caution about not taking cold, and coming home early. He had not
+traversed the mile which intervened between the residences of the
+two girls before he almost wished he could continue the drive
+under the present auspices, and that, as in the old times, he
+could take toll at every bridge, and encircle his companion with
+his arm as they bounced over the "thank-'ee mams." The frosty air
+appeared to give keenness and piquancy to Miss Lottie's wit, and
+the chime of the bells was not merrier or more musical than her
+voice. But when a little later he saw blue-eyed Carrie Mitchell in
+her furs and hood silhouetted in the window, his old dilemma
+became as perplexing as ever. Nevertheless, it was the most
+delightful uncertainty that he had ever experienced; and he had a
+presentiment that he had better make the most of it, since it
+could not last much longer. Meanwhile, he was hedged about with
+blessings clearly not in disguise, and he gave utterance to this
+truth as they drove away.
+
+"Surely there never was so lucky a fellow. Here I am kept warm and
+happy by the two finest girls in town."
+
+"Yes," said Lottie; "and it's a shame you can't sit on both sides
+of us."
+
+"I assure you I wish it were possible. It would double my
+pleasure."
+
+"I'm very well content," remarked Carrie, quietly, "as long as I
+can keep on the right side of people--"
+
+"Well, you are not on the right side to-night," interrupted
+Lottie.
+
+"Good gracious!" thought Marstern, "she's next to my heart. I
+wonder if that will give her unfair advantage;" but Carrie
+explained:
+
+"Of course I was speaking metaphorically."
+
+"In that aspect of the case it would be a shame to me if any side
+I have is not right toward those who have so honored me," he
+hastened to say.
+
+"Oh, Carrie has all the advantage--she is next to your heart."
+
+"Would you like to exchange places?" was the query flashed back by
+Carrie.
+
+"Oh, no, I'm quite as content as you are."
+
+"Why, then, since I am more than content--exultant, indeed--it
+appears that we all start from excellent premises to reach a happy
+conclusion of our Christmas Eve," cried Marstern.
+
+"Now you are talking shop, Mr. Lawyer--Premises and Conclusions,
+indeed!" said Lottie; "since you are such a happy sandwich, you
+must be a tongue sandwich, and be very entertaining."
+
+He did his best, the two girls seconding his efforts so genially
+that he found himself, after driving five miles, psychologically
+just where he was physically--between them, as near to one in his
+thoughts and preferences as to the other.
+
+"Let us take the river road home," suggested Lottie.
+
+"As long as you agree," he answered, "you both are sovereign
+potentates. If you should express conflicting wishes, I should
+have to stop here in the road till one abdicated in favor of the
+other, or we all froze."
+
+"But you, sitting so snugly between us, would not freeze," said
+Lottie. "If we were obstinate we should have to assume our
+pleasantest expressions, and then you could eventually take us
+home as bits of sculpture. In fact, I'm getting cold already."
+
+"Are you also, Miss Carrie?"
+
+"Oh, I'll thaw out before summer. Don't mind me."
+
+"Well, then, mind me," resumed Lottie. "See how white and smooth
+the river looks. Why can't we drive home on the ice? It will save
+miles--I mean it looks so inviting."
+
+"Oh, dear!" cried Carrie, "I feel like protesting now. The longest
+way round may be both the shortest and safest way home."
+
+"You ladies shall decide. This morning I drove over the route we
+would take to-night, and I should not fear to take a ton of coal
+over it."
+
+"A comparison suggesting warmth and a grate-fire. I vote for the
+river," said Lottie, promptly.
+
+"Oh, well, Mr. Marstern, if you've been over the ice so recently--
+I only wish to feel reasonably safe."
+
+"I declare!" thought Marstern, "Lottie is the braver and more
+brilliant girl; and the fact that she is not inclined to forego
+the comfort of the home-fire for the pleasure of my company,
+reveals the difficulty of, and therefore incentive to, the suit I
+may decide to enter upon before New Year's."
+
+Meanwhile, his heart on Carrie's side began to grow warm and
+alert, as if recognizing an affinity to some object not far off.
+Granting that she had not been so brilliant as Lottie, she had
+been eminently companionable in a more quiet way. If there had not
+been such bursts of enthusiasm at the beginning of the drive, her
+enjoyment appeared to have more staying powers. He liked her none
+the less that her eyes were often turned toward the stars or the
+dark silhouettes of the leafless trees against the snow. She did
+not keep saying, "Ah, how lovely! What a fine bit that is!" but he
+had only to follow her eyes to see something worth looking at.
+
+"A proof that Miss Carrie also is not so preoccupied with the
+pleasure of my company that she has no thoughts for other things,"
+cogitated Marstern. "It's rather in her favor that she prefers
+Nature to a grate fire. They're about even yet."
+
+Meanwhile the horse was speeding along on the white, hard expanse
+of the river, skirting the west shore. They now had only about a
+mile to drive before striking land again; and the scene was so
+beautiful with the great dim outlines of the mountains before them
+that both the girls suggested that they should go leisurely for a
+time.
+
+"We shouldn't hastily and carelessly pass such a picture as that,
+any more than one would if a fine copy of it were hung in a
+gallery," said Carrie. "The stars are so brilliant along the brow
+of that highland yonder that they form a dia--oh, oh! what IS the
+matter?" and she clung to Marstern's arm.
+
+The horse was breaking through the ice.
+
+"Whoa!" said Marstern, firmly. Even as he spoke, Lottie was out of
+the sleigh and running back on the ice, crying and wringing her
+hands.
+
+"We shall be drowned," she almost screamed hysterically.
+
+"Mr. Marstern, what SHALL we do? Can't we turn around and go back
+the way we came?"
+
+"Miss Carrie, will you do what I ask? Will you believe me when I
+say that I do not think you are in any danger?"
+
+"Yes, I'll do my best," she replied, catching her breath. She grew
+calm rapidly as he tried to reassure Lottie, telling her that
+water from the rising of the tide had overflowed the main ice and
+that thin ice had formed over it, also that the river at the most
+was only two or three feet deep at that point. But all was of no
+avail; Lottie stood out upon the ice in a panic, declaring that he
+never should have brought them into such danger, and that he must
+turn around at once and go back as they came.
+
+"But, Miss Waldo, the tide is rising, and we may find wet places
+returning. Besides, it would bring us home very late. Now, Miss
+Carrie and I will drive slowly across this place and then return
+for you. After we have been across it twice you surely won't
+fear."
+
+"I won't be left alone; suppose you two should break through and
+disappear, what would become of ME?"
+
+"You would be better off than we," he replied, laughing.
+
+"I think it's horrid of you to laugh. Oh, I'm so cold and
+frightened! I feel as if the ice were giving way under my feet."
+
+"Why, Miss Lottie, we just drove over that spot where you stand.
+Here, Miss Carrie shall stay with you while I drive back and forth
+alone."
+
+"Then if you were drowned we'd both be left alone to freeze to
+death."
+
+"I pledge you my word you shall be by that grate-fire within less
+than an hour if you will trust me five minutes."
+
+"Oh, well, if you will risk your life and ours too; but Carrie
+must stay with me."
+
+"Will YOU trust me, Miss Carrie, and help me out of this scrape?"
+
+Carrie was recovering from her panic, and replied, "I have given
+you my promise."
+
+He was out of the sleigh instantly, and the thin ice broke with
+him also. "I must carry you a short distance," he said. "I cannot
+allow you to get your feet wet. Put one arm around my neck, so;
+now please obey as you promised."
+
+She did so without a word, and he bore her beyond the water,
+inwardly exulting and blessing that thin ice. His decision was
+coming with the passing seconds; indeed, it had come. Returning to
+the sleigh he drove slowly forward, his horse making a terrible
+crunching and splashing, Lottie meanwhile keeping up a staccato
+accompaniment of little shrieks.
+
+"Ah, my charming creature," he thought, "with you it was only,
+'What will become of ME?' I might not have found out until it was
+too late the relative importance of 'me' in the universe had we
+not struck this bad crossing; and one comes to plenty of bad
+places to cross in a lifetime."
+
+The area of thin ice was not very narrow, and he was becoming but
+a dim and shadowy outline to the girls. Lottie was now screaming
+for his return. Having crossed the overflowed space and absolutely
+assured himself that there was no danger, he returned more rapidly
+and found Carrie trying to calm her companion.
+
+"Oh," sobbed Lottie, "my feet are wet and almost frozen. The ice
+underneath may have borne you, but it won't bear all three of us.
+Oh, dear, I wish I hadn't--I wish I was home; and I feel as if I'd
+never get there."
+
+"Miss Lottie, I assure you that the ice will hold a ton, but I'll
+tell you what I'll do. I shall put you in the sleigh, and Miss
+Carrie will drive you over. You two together do not weigh much
+more than I do. I'll walk just behind you with my hands on the
+back of the sleigh, and if I see the slightest danger I'll lift
+you out of the sleigh first and carry you to safety."
+
+This proposition promised so well that she hesitated, and he
+lifted her in instantly before she could change her mind, then
+helped Carrie in with a quiet pressure of the hand, as much as to
+say, "I shall depend on you."
+
+"But, Mr. Marstern, you'll get your feet wet," protested Carrie.
+
+"That doesn't matter," he replied good-naturedly. "I shall be no
+worse off than Miss Lottie, and I'm determined to convince her of
+safety. Now go straight ahead as I direct."
+
+Once the horse stumbled, and Lottie thought he was going down head
+first. "Oh, lift me out, quick, quick!" she cried.
+
+"Yes, indeed I will, Miss Lottie, as soon as we are opposite that
+grate fire of yours."
+
+They were soon safely over, and within a half-hour reached
+Lottie's home. It was evident she was a little ashamed of her
+behavior, and she made some effort to retrieve herself. But she
+was cold and miserable, vexed with herself and still more vexed
+with Marstern. That a latent sense of justice forbade the latter
+feeling only irritated her the more. Individuals as well as
+communities must have scapegoats; and it is not an unusual impulse
+on the part of some to blame and dislike those before whom they
+have humiliated themselves.
+
+She gave her companions a rather formal invitation to come in and
+get warm before proceeding further; but Marstern said very
+politely that he thought it was too late, unless Miss Carrie was
+cold. Carrie protested that she was not so cold but that she could
+easily wait till she reached her own fireside.
+
+"Well, good-night, then," and the door was shut a trifle
+emphatically.
+
+"Mr. Marstern," said Carrie, sympathetically, "your feet must be
+very cold and wet after splashing through all that ice-water."
+
+"They are," he replied; "but I don't mind it. Well, if I had tried
+for years I could not have found such a test of character as we
+had to-night."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"Oh, well, you two girls did not behave exactly alike. I liked the
+way you behaved. You helped me out of a confounded scrape."
+
+"Would you have tried for years to find a test?" she asked,
+concealing the keenness of her query under a laugh.
+
+"I should have been well rewarded if I had, by such a fine
+contrast," he replied.
+
+Carrie's faculties had not so congealed but that his words set her
+thinking. She had entertained at times the impression that she and
+Lottie were his favorites. Had he taken them out that night
+together in the hope of contrasts, of finding tests that would
+help his halting decision? He had ventured where the intuitions of
+a girl like Carrie Mitchell were almost equal to second-sight; and
+she was alert for what would come next.
+
+He accepted her invitation to come in and warm his feet at the
+glowing fire in the grate, which Carrie's father had made before
+retiring. Mrs. Mitchell, feeling that her daughter was with an old
+friend and playmate, did not think the presence of a chaperon
+essential, and left the young people alone. Carrie bustled about,
+brought cake, and made hot lemonade, while Marstern stretched his
+feet to the grate with a luxurious sense of comfort and
+complacency, thinking how homelike it all was and how paradisiacal
+life would become if such a charming little Hebe presided over his
+home. His lemonade became nectar offered by such hands.
+
+She saw the different expression in his eyes. It was now homage,
+decided preference for one and not mere gallantry to two.
+Outwardly she was demurely oblivious and maintained simply her
+wonted friendliness. Marstern, however, was thawing in more senses
+than one, and he was possessed by a strong impulse to begin an
+open siege at once.
+
+"I haven't had a single suit of any kind yet, Carrie," he said,
+dropping the prefix of "Miss," which had gradually been adopted as
+they had grown up.
+
+"Oh, well, that was the position of all the great lawyers once,"
+she replied, laughing. Marstern's father was wealthy, and all knew
+that he could afford to be briefless for a time.
+
+"I may never be great; but I shall work as hard as any of them,"
+he continued. "To tell you the honest truth, however, this would
+be the happiest Christmas Eve of my life if I had a downright suit
+on my hands. Why can't I be frank with you and say I'd like to
+begin the chief suit of my life now and here--a suit for this
+little hand? I'd plead for it as no lawyer ever pleaded before. I
+settled that much down on the ice."
+
+"And if I hadn't happened to behave on the ice in a manner
+agreeable to your lordship, you would have pleaded with the other
+girl?" she remarked, withdrawing her hand and looking him directly
+in the eyes.
+
+"What makes you think so?" he asked somewhat confusedly.
+
+"You do."
+
+He sprang up and paced the room a few moments, then confronted her
+with the words, "You shall have the whole truth. Any woman that I
+would ask to be my wife is entitled to that," and he told her just
+what the attitude of his mind had been from the first.
+
+She laughed outright, then gave him her hand as she said, "Your
+honesty insures that we can be very good friends; but I don't wish
+to hear anything more about suits which are close of kin to
+lawsuits."
+
+He looked very dejected, feeling that he had blundered fatally in
+his precipitation.
+
+"Come now, Hedley, be sensible," she resumed, half laughing, half
+serious. "As you say, we can be frank with each other. Why, only
+the other day we were boy and girl together coasting downhill on
+the same sled. You are applying your legal jargon to a deep
+experience, to something sacred--the result, to my mind, of a
+divine instinct. Neither you nor I have ever felt for each other
+this instinctive preference, this subtle gravitation of the heart.
+Don't you see? Your head has been concerned about me, and only
+your head. By a kindred process you would select one bale of
+merchandise in preference to another. Good gracious! I've faults
+enough. You'll meet some other girl that will stand some other
+test far better than I. I want a little of what you call silly
+romance in my courtship. See; I can talk about this suit as coolly
+and fluently as you can. We'd make a nice pair of lovers, about as
+frigid as the ice-water you waded through so good-naturedly;" and
+the girl's laugh rang out merrily, awakening echoes in the old
+house. Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell might rest securely when their
+daughter could laugh like that. It was the mirth of a genuine
+American girl whose self-protection was better than the care of a
+thousand duennas.
+
+He looked at her with honest admiration in his eyes, then rose
+quietly and said, "That's fine, Carrie. Your head's worth two of
+mine, and you'd make the better lawyer. You see through a case
+from top to bottom. You were right--I wasn't in love with you; I
+don't know whether I'm in love with you now, and you haven't an
+infinitesimal spark for me. Nevertheless, I begin my suit here and
+now, and I shall never withdraw it till you are engaged to another
+fellow. So there!"
+
+Carrie looked rather blank at this result of her reductio ad
+absurdum process; and he did not help her by adding, "A fellow
+isn't always in love. There must be a beginning; and when I arrive
+at this beginning under the guidance of reason, judgment, and
+observation, I don't see as I'm any more absurd than the fellow
+who tumbles helplessly in love, he doesn't know why. What becomes
+of all these people who have divine gravitations? You and I both
+know of some who had satanic repulsions afterward. They used their
+eyes and critical faculties after marriage instead of before. The
+romance exhaled like a morning mist; and the facts came out
+distinctly. They learned what kind of man and woman they actually
+were, and two idealized creatures were sent to limbo. Because I
+don't blunder upon the woman I wish to marry, but pick her out,
+that's no reason I can't and won't love her. Your analysis and
+judgment were correct only up to date. You have now to meet a suit
+honestly, openly announced. This may be bad policy on my part; yet
+I have so much faith in you and respect for you that I don't
+believe you will let my precipitation create a prejudice. Give me
+a fair hearing; that's all I ask."
+
+"Well, well, I'll promise not to frown, even though some finer
+paragon should throw me completely in the shade."
+
+"You don't believe in my yet," he resumed, after a moment of
+thought. "I felt that I had blundered awfully a while ago; but I
+doubt it. A girl of your perceptions would soon have seen it all.
+I've not lost anything by being frank from the start. Be just to
+me, however. It wasn't policy that led me to speak, but this
+homelike scene, and you appearing like the good genius of a home."
+
+He pulled out his watch, and gave a low whistle as he held it
+toward her. Then his manner suddenly became grave and gentle.
+"Carrie," he said, "I wish you, not a merry Christmas, but a happy
+one, and many of them. It seems to me it would be a great
+privilege for a man to make a woman like you happy."
+
+"Is this the beginning of the suit?" she asked with a laugh that
+was a little forced.
+
+"I don't know. Perhaps it is; but I spoke just as I felt. Good-
+night."
+
+She would not admit of a trace of sentiment on her part. "Good-
+night," she said. "Merry Christmas! Go home and hang up your
+stocking."
+
+"Bless me!" she thought, as she went slowly up the stairs, "I
+thought I was going to be through with him for good and all,
+except as a friend; but if he goes on this way--"
+
+The next morning a basket of superb roses was left at her home.
+There was no card, and mamma queried and surmised; but the girl
+knew. They were not displeasing to her, and somehow, before the
+day was over, they found their way to her room; but she shook her
+head decidedly as she said, "He must be careful not to send me
+other gifts, for I will return them instantly. Flowers, in
+moderation, never commit a girl."
+
+But then came another gift--a book with pencillings here and
+there, not against sentimental passages, but words that made her
+think. It was his manner in society, however, that at once
+annoyed, perplexed, and pleased her. On the first occasion they
+met in company with others, he made it clear to every one that he
+was her suitor; yet he was not a burr which she could not shake
+off. He rather seconded all her efforts to have a good time with
+any and every one she chose. Nor did he, wallflower fashion, mope
+in the meanwhile and look unutterable things. He added to the
+pleasure of a score of others, and even conciliated Lottie, yet at
+the same time surrounded the girl of his choice with an atmosphere
+of unobtrusive devotion. She was congratulated on her conquest--
+rather maliciously so by Lottie. Her air of courteous indifference
+was well maintained; yet she was a woman, and could not help being
+flattered. Certain generous traits in her nature were touched also
+by a homage which yielded everything and exacted nothing.
+
+The holidays soon passed, and he returned to his work. She learned
+incidentally that he toiled faithfully, instead of mooning around.
+At every coigne of vantage she found him, or some token of his
+ceaseless effort. She was compelled to think of him, and to think
+well of him. Though mamma and papa judiciously said little, it was
+evident that they liked the style of lover into which he was
+developing.
+
+Once during the summer she said: "I don't think it's right to let
+you go on in this way any longer."
+
+"Are my attentions so very annoying?"
+
+"No, indeed. A girl never had a more agreeable or useful friend."
+
+"Are you engaged to some other fellow?"
+
+"Of course not. You know better."
+
+"There is no 'of course not' about it. I couldn't and wouldn't lay
+a straw in the way. You are not bound, but I."
+
+"You bound?"
+
+"Certainly. You remember what I said."
+
+"Then I must accept the first man that asks me--"
+
+"I ask you."
+
+"No; some one else, so as to unloose your conscience and give you
+a happy deliverance."
+
+"You would leave me still bound and hopeless in that case. I love
+you now, Carrie Mitchell."
+
+"Oh, dear! you are incorrigible. It's just a lawyer's persistence
+in winning a suit."
+
+"You can still swear on the dictionary that you don't love me at
+all?"
+
+"I might--on the dictionary. There, I won't talk about such things
+any more," and she resolutely changed the subject.
+
+But she couldn't swear, even on the dictionary. She didn't know
+where she stood or how it would all end; but with increasing
+frequency the words, "I love you now," haunted her waking and
+dreaming hours.
+
+The holidays were near again, and then came a letter from
+Marstern, asking her to take another sleigh-ride with him on
+Christmas Eve. His concluding words were: "There is no other woman
+in the world that I want on the other side of me." She kissed
+these words, then looked around in a startled, shamefaced manner,
+blushing even in the solitude of her room.
+
+Christmas Eve came, but with it a wild storm of wind and sleet.
+She was surprised at the depth of her disappointment. Would he
+even come to call through such a tempest?
+
+He did come, and come early; and she said demurely: "I did not
+expect you on such a night as this."
+
+He looked at her for a moment, half humorously, half seriously,
+and her eyes drooped before his. "You will know better what to
+expect next time," was his comment.
+
+"When is next time?"
+
+"Any and every time which gives me a chance to see you. Who should
+know that better than you?"
+
+"Are you never going to give up?" she asked with averted face.
+
+"Not till you become engaged."
+
+"Hush! They are all in the parlor."
+
+"Well, they ought to know as much, by this time, also."
+
+She thought it was astonishing how he made himself at home in the
+family circle. In half an hour there was scarcely any restraint
+left because a visitor was present. Yet, as if impelled by some
+mysterious influence, one after another slipped out; and Carrie
+saw with strange little thrills of dismay that she would soon be
+alone with that indomitable lawyer. She signalled to her mother,
+but the old lady's eyes were glued to her knitting.
+
+At last they were alone, and she expected a prompt and powerful
+appeal from the plaintiff; but Marstern drew his chair to the
+opposite side of the hearth and chatted so easily, naturally, and
+kindly that her trepidation passed utterly. It began to grow late,
+and a heavier gust than usual shook the house. It appeared to
+waken him to the dire necessity of breasting the gale, and he rose
+and said:
+
+"I feel as if I could sit here forever, Carrie. It's just the
+impression I had a year ago to-night. You, sitting there by the
+fire, gave then, and give now to this place the irresistible charm
+of home. I think I had then the decided beginning of the divine
+gravitation--wasn't that what you called it?--which has been
+growing so strong ever since. You thought then that the ice-water
+I waded was in my veins. Do you think so now? If you do I shall
+have to take another year to prove the contrary. Neither am I
+convinced of the absurdity of my course, as you put it then. I
+studied you coolly and deliberately before I began to love you,
+and reason and judgment have had no chance to jeer at my love."
+
+"But, Hedley," she began with a slight tremor in her tones, "you
+are idealizing me as certainly as the blindest. I've plenty of
+faults."
+
+"I haven't denied that; so have I plenty of faults. What right
+have I to demand a perfection I can't offer? I have known people
+to marry who imagined each other perfect, and then come to court
+for a separation on the ground of incompatibility of temperament.
+They learned the meaning of that long word too late, and were
+scarcely longer about it than the word itself. Now, I'm satisfied
+that I could cordially agree with you on some points and lovingly
+disagree with you on others. Chief of all it's your instinct to
+make a home. You appear better at your own fireside than when in
+full dress at a reception. You--"
+
+"See here, Hedley, you've got to give up this suit at last. I'm
+engaged," and she looked away as if she could not meet his eyes.
+
+"Engaged?" he said slowly, looking at her with startled eyes.
+
+"Well, about the same as engaged. My heart has certainly gone from
+me beyond recall." He drew a long breath. "I was foolish enough to
+begin to hope," he faltered.
+
+"You must dismiss hope to-night, then," she said, her face still
+averted.
+
+He was silent and she slowly turned toward him. He had sunk into a
+chair and buried his face in his hands, the picture of dejected
+defeat.
+
+There was a sudden flash of mirth through tear-gemmed eyes, a
+glance at the clock, then noiseless steps, and she was on her
+knees beside him, her arm about his neck, her blushing face near
+his wondering eyes as she breathed:
+
+"Happy Christmas, Hedley! How do you like your first gift; and
+what room is there now for hope?"
+
+
+
+
+THREE THANKSGIVING KISSES
+
+
+It was the day before Thanksgiving. The brief cloudy November
+afternoon was fast merging into early twilight. The trees, now
+gaunt and bare, creaked and groaned in the passing gale, clashing
+their icy branches together with sounds sadly unlike the
+slumberous rustle of their foliage in June. And that same foliage
+was now flying before the wind, swept hither and thither, like
+exiles driven by disaster from the moorings of home, at times
+finding a brief abiding-place, and then carried forward to parts
+unknown by circumstances beyond control. The street leading into
+the village was almost deserted; and the few who came and went
+hastened on with fluttering garments, head bent down, and a
+shivering sense of discomfort. The fields were bare and brown; and
+the landscape on the uplands rising in the distance would have
+been utterly sombre had not green fields of grain, like childlike
+faith in wintry age, relieved the gloomy outlook and prophesied of
+the sunshine and golden harvest of a new year and life.
+
+But bleak November found no admittance in Mrs. Alford's cosey
+parlor. Though, as usual, it was kept as the room for state
+occasions, it was not a stately room. It was furnished with
+elegance and good taste; but what was better, the genial home
+atmosphere from the rest of the house had invaded it, and one did
+not feel, on entering it from the free-and-easy sitting-room, as
+if passing from a sunny climate to the icebergs of the Pole.
+Therefore I am sure my reader will follow me gladly out of the
+biting, boisterous wind into the homelike apartment, and as we
+stand in fancy before the glowing grate, we will make the
+acquaintance of the May-day creature who is its sole occupant.
+
+Elsie Alford, just turning seventeen, appeared younger than her
+years warranted. Some girls carry the child far into their teens,
+and Head the mirthful innocence of infancy with the richer, fuller
+life of budding womanhood. This was true of Elsie. Hers was not
+the forced exotic bloom of fashionable life; but rather one of the
+native blossoms of her New England home, having all the delicacy
+and at the same time hardiness of the windflower. She was also as
+shy and easily agitated, and yet, like the flower she resembled,
+well rooted among the rocks of principle and truth. She was the
+youngest and the pet of the household, and yet the "petting" was
+not of that kind that develops selfishness and wilfulness, but
+rather a genial sunlight of love falling upon her as a focus from
+the entire family. They always spoke of her as "little Sis," or
+the "child." And a child it seemed she would ever be, with her
+kittenish ways, quick impulses, and swiftly alternating moods. As
+she developed into womanly proportions, her grave, businesslike
+father began to have misgivings. After one of her wild sallies at
+the table, where she kept every one on the qui vive by her
+unrestrained chatter, Mr. Alford said:
+
+"Elsie, will you ever learn to be a woman?"
+
+Looking mischievously at him through her curls, she replied, "Yes;
+I might if I became as old as Mrs. Methuselah."
+
+They finally concluded to leave Elsie's cure to care and trouble--
+two certain elements of earthly life; and yet her experience of
+either would be slight indeed, could their love shield her.
+
+But it would not be exactly care or trouble that would sober Elsie
+into a thoughtful woman, as our story will show.
+
+Some of the November wind seemed in her curling hair upon this
+fateful day; but her fresh young April face was a pleasant
+contrast to the scene presented from the window, to which she kept
+flitting with increasing frequency. It certainly was not the
+dismal and darkening landscape that so intensely interested her.
+The light of a great and coming pleasure was in her face, and her
+manner was one of restless, eager expectancy. Little wonder. Her
+pet brother, the one next older than herself, a promising young
+theologue, was coming home to spend Thanksgiving. It was time he
+appeared. The shriek of the locomotive had announced the arrival
+of the train; and her ardent little spirit could scarcely endure
+the moments intervening before she would almost concentrate
+herself into a rapturous kiss and embrace of welcome, for the
+favorite brother had been absent several long months.
+
+Her mother called her away for a few moments, for the good old
+lady was busy indeed, knowing well that merely full hearts would
+not answer for a New England Thanksgiving. But the moment Elsie
+was free she darted back to the window, just in time to catch a
+glimpse, as she supposed, of her brother's well-remembered dark-
+gray overcoat, as he was ascending the front steps.
+
+A tall, grave-looking young man, an utter stranger to the place
+and family, had his hand upon the doorbell; but before he could
+ring it, the door flew open, and a lovely young creature
+precipitated herself on his neck, like a missile fired from
+heavenly battlements, and a kiss was pressed upon his lips that he
+afterward admitted to have felt even to the "toes of his boots."
+
+But his startled manner caused her to lift her face from under his
+side-whiskers; and though the dusk was deepening, she could see
+that her arms were around an utter stranger. She recoiled from him
+with a bound, and trembling like a windflower indeed, her large
+blue eyes dilating at the intruder with a dismay beyond words. How
+the awkward scene would have ended it were hard to tell had not
+the hearty voice of one coming up the path called out:
+
+"Hi, there, you witch! who is that you are kissing, and then
+standing off to see the effect?"
+
+There was no mistake this time; so, impelled by love, shame, and
+fear of "that horrid man," she fled, half sobbing, to his arms.
+
+"No, he isn't a 'horrid man,' either," whispered her brother,
+laughing. "He is a classmate of mine. Why, Stanhope, how are you?
+I did not know that you and my sister were so well acquainted," he
+added, half banteringly and half curiously, for as yet he did not
+fully understand the scene.
+
+The hall-lamp, shining through the open door, had revealed the
+features of the young man (whom we must now call Mr. Stanhope), so
+that his classmate had recognized him. His first impulse had been
+to slip away in the darkness, and so escape from his awkward
+predicament; but George Alford's prompt address prevented this and
+brought him to bay. He was painfully embarrassed, but managed to
+stammer: "I was taken for you, I think. I never had the pleasure--
+honor of meeting your sister."
+
+"Oh, ho! I see now. My wild little sister kissed before she
+looked. Well, that was your good-fortune. I could keep two
+Thanksgiving days on the strength of such a kiss as that," cried
+the light-hearted student, shaking the diffident, shrinking Mr.
+Stanhope warmly by the hand. "You will hardly need a formal
+introduction now. But, bless me, where is she? Has the November
+wind blown her away?"
+
+"I think your sist--the lady passed around to the side entrance. I
+fear I have annoyed her sadly."
+
+"Nonsense! A good joke--something to tease the little witch about.
+But come in. I'm forgetting the sacred rites."
+
+And before the bewildered Mr. Stanhope could help himself, he was
+half dragged into the lighted hall, and the door shut between him
+and escape.
+
+In the meantime, Elsie, like a whirlwind, had burst into the
+kitchen, where Mrs. Alford was superintending some savory dishes.
+
+"Oh, mother, George has come and has a horrid man with him, who
+nearly devoured me."
+
+And, with this rather feminine mode of stating the case, she
+darted into the dusky, fire-lighted parlor, from whence, unseen,
+she could reconnoitre the hall. Mr. Stanhope was just saying:
+
+"Please let me go. I have stood between you and your welcome long
+enough. I shall only be an intruder; and besides, as an utter
+stranger, I have no right to stay." To all of which Elsie devoutly
+whispered to herself, "Amen."
+
+But Mrs. Alford now appeared, and after a warm, motherly greeting
+to her son, turned in genial courtesy to welcome his friend, as
+she supposed.
+
+George was so happy that he wished every one else to be the same.
+The comical episode attending Mr. Stanhope's unexpected appearance
+just hit his frolicsome mood, and promised to be a source of
+endless merriment if he could only keep his classmate over the
+coming holiday. Moreover, he long had wished to become better
+acquainted with this young man, whose manner at the seminary had
+deeply interested him. So he said:
+
+"Mother, this is Mr. Stanhope, a classmate of mine. I wish you
+would help me persuade him to stay."
+
+"Why, certainly, I supposed you expected to stay with us, of
+course," said Mrs. Alford, heartily.
+
+Mr. Stanhope looked ready to sink through the floor, his face
+crimson with vexation.
+
+"I do assure you, madam," he urged, "it is all a mistake. I am not
+an invited guest. I was merely calling on a little matter of
+business, when--" and there he stopped. George exploded into a
+hearty, uncontrollable laugh; while Elsie, in the darkness, shook
+her little fist at the stranger, who hastened to add, "Please let
+me bid you good-evening, I have not the slightest claim on your
+hospitality."
+
+"Where are you staying?" asked Mrs. Alford, a little mystified.
+"We would like you to spend at least part of the time with us."
+
+"I do not expect to be here very long. I have a room at the
+hotel."
+
+"Now, look here, Stanhope," cried George, barring all egress by
+planting his back against the door, "do you take me, a half-
+fledged theologue, for a heathen? Do you suppose that I could be
+such a churl as to let a classmate stay at our dingy, forlorn
+little tavern and eat hash on Thanksgiving Day? I could never look
+you in the face at recitation again. Have some consideration for
+my peace of mind, and I am sure you will find our home quite as
+endurable as anything Mr. Starks can provide."
+
+"Oh! as to that, from even the slight glimpse that I have had,
+this seems more like a home than anything I have known for many
+years; but I cannot feel it right that I, an unexpected stranger--"
+
+"Come, come! No more of that! You know what is written about
+'entertaining strangers;' so that is your strongest claim.
+Moreover, that text works both ways sometimes, and the stranger
+angel finds himself among angels. My old mother here, if she does
+weigh well on toward two hundred, is more like one than anything I
+have yet seen, and Elsie, if not an angel, is at least part witch
+and part fairy. But you need not fear ghostly entertainment from
+mother's larder. As you are a Christian, and not a Pagan, no more
+of this reluctance. Indeed, nolens volens, I shall not permit you
+to go out into this November storm to-night;" and Elsie, to her
+dismay, saw the new-comer led up to the "spare room" with a sort
+of hospitable violence.
+
+With flaming cheeks and eyes half full of indignant tears, she now
+made onslaught on her mother, who had returned to the kitchen,
+where she was making preparations for a supper that might almost
+answer for the dinner the next day.
+
+"Mother, mother," she exclaimed, "how could you keep that
+disagreeable stranger! He will spoil our Thanksgiving."
+
+"Why, child, what is the matter?" said Mrs. Alford, raising her
+eyes in surprise to her daughter's face, that looked like a red
+moon through the mist of savory vapors rising from the ample
+cooking-stove. "I don't understand you. Why should not your
+brother's classmate add to the pleasure of our Thanksgiving?"
+
+"Well, perhaps if we had expected him, if he had come in some
+other way, and we knew more about him--"
+
+"Bless you, child, what a formalist you have become. You stand on
+a fine point of etiquette, as if it were the broad foundation of
+hospitality; while only last week you wanted a ragged tramp, who
+had every appearance of being a thief, to stay all night. Your
+brother thinks it a special providence that his friend should have
+turned up so unexpectedly."
+
+"Oh, dear!" sighed Elsie. "If that is what the doctrine of special
+providence means, I shall need a new confession of faith." Then, a
+sudden thought occurring to her, she vanished, while her mother
+smiled, saying:
+
+"What a queer child she is, to be sure!"
+
+A moment later Elsie gave a sharp knock at the spare room door,
+and in a second was in the further end of the dark hall. George
+put his head out.
+
+"Come here," she whispered. "Are you sure it's you?" she added,
+holding him off at arm's-length.
+
+His response was such a tempest of kisses and embraces that in her
+nervous state she was quite panic-stricken.
+
+"George," she gasped, "have mercy on me!"
+
+"I only wished to show you how he felt, so you would have some
+sympathy for him."
+
+"If you don't stop," said the almost desperate girl, "I will shut
+myself up and not appear till he is gone. I will any way, if you
+don't make me a solemn promise."
+
+"Leave out the 'solemn.'"
+
+"No, I won't. Upon your word and honor, promise never to tell what
+has happened--my mistake, I mean."
+
+"Oh, Elsie, it's too good to keep," laughed George.
+
+"Now, George, if you tell," sobbed Elsie, "you'll spoil my
+holiday, your visit, and everything."
+
+"If you feel that way, you foolish child, of course I won't tell.
+Indeed, I suppose I should not, for Stanhope seems half frightened
+out of his wits also."
+
+"Serves him right, though I doubt whether he has many to lose,"
+said Elsie, spitefully.
+
+"Well, I will do my best to keep in," said George, soothingly, and
+stroking her curls. "But you will let it all out; you see. The
+idea of your keeping anything with your April face!"
+
+Elsie acted upon the hint, and went to her room in order to remove
+all traces of agitation before the supper-bell should summon her
+to meet the dreaded stranger.
+
+In the meantime, Mr. Alford and James, the second son, had come up
+from the village, where they had a thriving business. They greeted
+George's friend so cordially that it went some way toward putting
+the diffident youth at his ease; but he dreaded meeting Elsie
+again quite as much as she dreaded meeting him.
+
+"Who is this Mr. Stanhope?" his parents asked, as they drew George
+aside for a little private talk after his long absence.
+
+"Well, he is a classmate with whom I have long wished to get
+better acquainted; but he is so shy and retiring that I have made
+little progress. He came from another seminary, and entered our
+class in this the middle year. No one seems to know much about
+him; and indeed he has shunned all intimacies and devotes himself
+wholly to his books. The recitation-room is the one place where he
+appears well--for there he speaks out, as if forgetting himself,
+or rather, losing himself in some truth under contemplation.
+Sometimes he will ask a question that wakes up both class and
+professor; but at other times it seems difficult to pierce the
+shell of his reserve or diffidence. And yet, from little things I
+have seen, I know that he has a good warm heart; and the working
+of his mind in the recitation-room fascinates me. Further than
+this I know little about him, but have just learned, from his
+explanation as to his unexpected appearance at our door, that he
+is very poor, and purposed to spend his holiday vacation as agent
+for a new magazine that is offering liberal premiums. I think his
+poverty is one of the reasons why he has so shrunk from
+companionship with the other students. He thinks he ought to go
+out and continue his efforts tonight."
+
+"This stormy night!" ejaculated kind Mrs. Alford. "It would be
+barbarous."
+
+"Certainly it would, mother. We must not let him. But you must all
+be considerate, for he seems excessively diffident and sensitive;
+and besides--but no matter."
+
+"No fear but that we will soon make him at home. And it's a
+pleasure to entertain people who are not surfeited with attention.
+I don't understand Elsie, however, for she seems to have formed a
+violent prejudice against him. From the nature of her announcement
+of his presence I gathered that he was a rather forward young
+man."
+
+There was a twinkle in George's eye; but he merely said:
+
+"Elsie is full of moods and tenses; but her kind little heart is
+always the same, and that will bring her around all right."
+
+They were soon after marshalled to the supper-room. Elsie slipped
+in among the others, but was so stately and demure, and with her
+curls brushed down so straight that you would scarcely have known
+her. Her father caught his pet around the waist, and was about to
+introduce her, when George hastened to say with the solemnity of
+an undertaker that Elsie and Mr. Stanhope had met before.
+
+Elsie repented the promise she had wrung from her brother, for any
+amount of badinage would be better than this depressing formality.
+She took her seat, not daring to look at the obnoxious guest; and
+the family noticed with surprise that they had never seen the
+little maiden so quenched and abashed before. But George good-
+naturedly tried to make the conversation general, so as to give
+them time to recover themselves.
+
+Elsie soon ventured to steal shy looks at Mr. Stanhope, and with
+her usual quickness discovered that he was more in terror of her
+than she of him, and she exulted in the fact.
+
+"I'll punish him well, if I get a chance," she thought with a
+certain phase of the feminine sense of justice. But the sadness of
+his face quite disarmed her when her mother, in well-meant
+kindness, asked:
+
+"Where is your home located, Mr. Stanhope?"
+
+"In the seminary," he answered in rather a low tone.
+
+"You don't mean to say that you have no better one than a forlorn
+cell in Dogma Hall?" exclaimed George, earnestly.
+
+Mr. Stanhope crimsoned, and then grew pale, but tried to say
+lightly, "An orphan of my size and years is not a very moving
+object of sympathy; but one might well find it difficult not to
+break the Tenth Commandment while seeing how you are surrounded."
+
+Elsie was vexed at her disposition to relent toward him; she so
+hardened her face, however, that James rallied her:
+
+"Why, Puss, what is the matter? Yours is the most unpromising
+Thanksgiving phiz I have seen today. 'Count your marcies.'"
+
+Elsie blushed so violently, and Mr. Stanhope looked so distressed
+that James finished his supper in puzzled silence, thinking,
+however, "What has come over the little witch? For a wonder, she
+seems to have met a man that she is afraid of: but the joke is, he
+seems even more afraid of her."
+
+In the social parlor some of the stiffness wore off; but Elsie and
+Mr. Stanhope kept on opposite sides of the room and had very
+little to say to each other. Motherly Mrs. Alford drew the young
+man out sufficiently, however, to become deeply interested in him.
+
+By the next morning time for thought had led him to feel that he
+must trespass on their hospitality no longer. Moreover, he plainly
+recognized that his presence was an oppression and restraint upon
+Elsie; and he was very sorry that he had stayed at all. But when
+he made known his purpose the family would not listen to it.
+
+"I should feel dreadfully hurt if you left us now," said Mrs.
+Alford, so decidedly that he was in a dilemma, and stole a timid
+look toward Elsie, who at once guessed his motive in going away.
+Her kind heart got the better of her; and her face relented in a
+sudden reassuring smile. Then she turned hastily away. Only George
+saw and understood the little side scene and the reason Mr.
+Stanhope was induced to remain. Then Elsie, in her quickly varying
+moods, was vexed at herself, and became more cold and distant than
+ever. "He will regard me as only a pert, forward miss, but I will
+teach him better," she thought; and she astonished the family more
+and more by a stateliness utterly unlike herself. Mr. Stanhope
+sincerely regretted that he had not broken away, in spite of the
+others; but in order not to seem vacillating he resolved to stay
+till the following morning, even though he departed burdened with
+the thought that he had spoiled the day for one of the family.
+Things had now gone so far that leaving might only lead to
+explanations and more general annoyances, for George had intimated
+that the little mistake of the previous evening should remain a
+secret.
+
+And yet he sincerely wished she would relent toward him, for she
+could not make her sweet little face repellent. The kiss she had
+given him still seemed to tingle in his very soul, while her last
+smile was like a ray of warmest sunshine. But her face, never
+designed to be severe, was averted.
+
+After having heard the affairs of the nation discussed in a sound,
+scriptural manner, they all sat down to a dinner such as had never
+blessed poor Mr. Stanhope's vision before. A married son and
+daughter returned after church, and half a dozen grandchildren
+enlivened the gathering. There was need of them, for Elsie,
+usually in a state of wild effervescence upon such occasions, was
+now demure and comparatively silent. The children, with whom she
+was accustomed to romp like one of them, were perplexed indeed;
+and only the intense excitement of a Thanksgiving dinner diverted
+their minds from Aunt Elsie, so sadly changed. She was conscious
+that all were noting her absent manner, and this embarrassed and
+vexed her more; and yet she seemed under a miserable paralysis
+that she could neither explain nor escape.
+
+"If we had only laughed it off at first," she groaned to herself;
+"but now the whole thing grows more absurd and disagreeable every
+moment."
+
+"Why, Elsie," said her father, banteringly, "you doubted the other
+day whether Mrs. Methuselah's age would ever sober you; and yet I
+think that good old lady would have looked more genial on
+Thanksgiving Day. What is the matter?"
+
+"I was thinking of the sermon," she said.
+
+Amid the comic elevation of eyebrows, George said slyly:
+
+"Tell us the text."
+
+Overwhelmed with confusion, she darted a reproachful glance at him
+and muttered:
+
+"I did not say anything about the text."
+
+"Well, tell us about the sermon then," laughed James.
+
+"No," said Elsie, sharply. "I'll quote you a text: 'Eat, drink,
+and be merry,' and let me alone."
+
+They saw that for some reason she could not bear teasing, and that
+such badinage troubled Mr. Stanhope also. George came gallantly to
+the rescue, and the dinner-party grew so merry that Elsie thawed
+perceptibly and Stanhope was beguiled into several witty speeches.
+At each one Elsie opened her eyes in wider and growing
+appreciation. At last, when they rose from their coffee, she come
+to the surprising conclusion--
+
+"Why, he is not stupid and bad-looking after all."
+
+George was bent on breaking the ice between them, and so proposed
+that the younger members of the family party should go up a
+swollen stream and see the fall. But Elsie flanked herself with a
+sister-in-law on one side and a niece on the other, while Stanhope
+was so diffident that nothing but downright encouragement would
+bring him to her side. So George was almost in despair. Elsie's
+eyes had been conveying favorable impressions to her reluctant
+mind throughout the walk. She sincerely regretted that such an
+absurd barrier had grown up between her and Stanhope, but could
+not for the life of her, especially before others, do anything to
+break the awkward spell.
+
+At last they were on their return, and were all grouped together
+on a little bluff, watching the water pour foamingly through a
+narrow gorge.
+
+"Oh, see," cried Elsie, suddenly pointing to the opposite bank,
+"what beautiful moss that is over there! It is just the kind I
+have been wanting. Oh, dear! there isn't a bridge within half a
+mile."
+
+Stanhope glanced around a moment, and then said gallantly, "I will
+get you the moss, Miss Alford." They saw that in some
+inconceivable way he intended crossing where they stood. The gorge
+was much too wide for the most vigorous leap, so Elsie exclaimed
+eagerly:
+
+"Oh, please don't take any risk! What is a little moss?"
+
+"I say, Stanhope," remonstrated George, seriously, "it would be no
+laughing matter if you should fall in there."
+
+But Stanhope only smiled, threw off his overcoat, and buttoned his
+undercoat closely around him. George groaned to himself, "This
+will be worse than the kissing scrape," and was about to lay a
+restraining grasp upon his friend. But he slipped away, and
+lightly went up hand-over-hand a tall, slender sapling on the edge
+of the bank, the whole party gathering round in breathless
+expectation. Having reached its slender, swaying top, he threw
+himself out on the land side. The tree bent at once to the ground
+with his weight, but without snapping, showing that it was tough
+and fibrous. Holding firmly to the top, he gave a strong spring,
+which, with the spring of the bent sapling, sent him well over the
+gorge on the firm ground beyond.
+
+There was a round of applause from the little group he had just
+left, in which Elsie joined heartily. Her eyes were glowing with
+admiration, for when was not power and daring captivating to a
+woman? Then, in sudden alarm and forgetfulness of her former
+coolness, she exclaimed:
+
+"But how will you get back?"
+
+"This is my bridge," he replied, smiling brightly across to her,
+and holding on to the slender young tree. "You perceive that I was
+brought up in the country."
+
+So saying, he tied the sapling down to a root with a handkerchief,
+and then proceeded to fill another with moss.
+
+As George saw Elsie's face while she watched Stanhope gather the
+coveted trifle, he chuckled to himself--
+
+"The ice is broken between them now."
+
+But Stanhope had insecurely fastened the sapling down. The strain
+upon the knot was too severe, and suddenly the young tree flew up
+and stood erect but quivering, with his handkerchief fluttering in
+its top as a symbol of defeat. There was an exclamation of dismay
+and Elsie again asked with real anxiety in her tone:
+
+"How will you get back now?"
+
+Stanhope shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"I confess I am defeated, for there is no like sapling on this
+side; but I have the moss, and can join you at the bridge below,
+if nothing better offers."
+
+"George," said Elsie, indignantly, "don't go away and leave Mr.
+Stanhope's handkerchief in that tree."
+
+"Bless you, child," cried George, mischievously, and leading the
+way down the path, "I can't climb anymore than a pumpkin. You will
+have to go back with him after it, or let it wave as a memento of
+his gallantry on your behalf."
+
+"If I can only manage to throw them together without any
+embarrassing third parties present, the ridiculous restraint they
+are under will soon vanish," he thought; and so he hastened his
+steps. The rest trooped after him, while Stanhope made his way
+with difficulty on the opposite bank, where there was no path. His
+progress therefore was slow; and Elsie saw that if she did not
+linger he would be left behind. Common politeness forbade this,
+and so she soon found herself alone, carrying his overcoat on one
+bank, and he keeping pace with her on the other. She comforted
+herself at first with the thought that with the brawling,
+deafening stream between them, there would be no chance for
+embarrassing conversation. But soon her sympathies became aroused,
+as she saw him toilsomely making his way over the rocks and
+through the tangled thickets: and as she could not speak to him,
+she smiled her encouragement so often that she felt it would be
+impossible to go back to her old reserve.
+
+Stanhope now came to a little opening in the brush. The cleared
+ground sloped evenly down to the stream, and its current was
+divided by a large rock. He hailed the opportunity here offered
+with delight, for he was very anxious to speak to her before they
+should join the others. So he startled Elsie by walking out into
+the clearing, away from the stream.
+
+"Well, I declare; that's cool, to go and leave me alone without a
+word," she thought.
+
+But she was almost terror-stricken to see him turn and dart to the
+torrent like an arrow. With a long flying leap, he landed on the
+rock in the midst of the stream, and then, without a second's
+hesitation, with the impetus already acquired, sprang for the
+solid ground where she stood, struck it, wavered, and would have
+fallen backward into the water had not she, quick as thought,
+stepped forward and given him her hand.
+
+"You have saved me from a ducking, if not worse," he said, giving
+the little rescuing hand a warm pressure.
+
+"Oh!" exclaimed she, panting, "please don't do any more dreadful
+things. I shall be careful how I make any wishes in your hearing
+again."
+
+"I am sorry to hear you say that," he replied. And then there was
+an awkward silence.
+
+Elsie could think of nothing better than to refer to the
+handkerchief they had left behind.
+
+"Will you wait for me till I run and get it?" he asked.
+
+"I will go back with you, if you will permit me," she said
+timidly.
+
+"Indeed, I could not ask so much of you as that."
+
+"And yet you could about the same as risk your neck to gratify a
+whim of mine," she said more gratefully than she intended.
+
+"Please do not think," he replied earnestly, "that I have been
+practicing cheap heroics. As I said, I was a country boy, and in
+my early home thought nothing of doing such things." But even the
+brief reference to that vanished home caused him to sigh deeply,
+and Elsie gave him a wistful look of sympathy.
+
+For a few moments they walked on in silence. Then Mr. Stanhope
+turned, and with some hesitation said:
+
+"Miss Alford, I did very wrong to stay after--after last evening.
+But my better judgment was borne down by invitations so cordial
+that I hardly knew how to resist them. At the same time I now
+realize that I should have done so. Indeed, I would go away at
+once, would not such a course only make matters worse. And yet,
+after receiving so much kindness from your family, more than has
+blessed me for many long years--for since my dear mother died I
+have been quite alone in the world--I feel I cannot go away
+without some assurance or proof that you will forgive me for being
+such a kill-joy in your holiday."
+
+Elsie's vexation with herself now knew no bounds. She stopped in
+the path, determining that she would clear up matters, cost what
+it might.
+
+"Mr. Stanhope," she said, "will you grant a request that will
+contain such assurance, or rather, will show you that I am
+heartily ashamed of my foolish course? Will you not spend next
+Thanksgiving with us, and give me a chance to retrieve myself from
+first to last?"
+
+His face brightened wonderfully as he replied, "I will only be too
+glad to do so, if you truly wish it."
+
+"I do wish it," she said earnestly. "What must you think of me?"
+(His eyes then expressed much admiration; but hers were fixed on
+the ground and half filled with tears of vexation.) Then, with a
+pretty humility that was exquisite in its simplicity and
+artlessness, she added:
+
+"You have noticed at home that they call me 'child'--and indeed, I
+am little more than one--and now see that I have behaved like a
+very silly and naughty one toward you. I have trampled on every
+principle of hospitality, kindness, and good-breeding. I have no
+patience with myself, and I wish another chance to show that I can
+do better. I--"
+
+"Oh, Miss Alford, please do not judge yourself so harshly and
+unjustly," interrupted Stanhope.
+
+"Oh, dear!" sighed Elsie, "I'm so sorry for what happened last
+night. We all might have had such a good time."
+
+"Well, then," said Stanhope, demurely, "I suppose I ought to be
+also."
+
+"And do you mean to say that you are not?" she asked, turning
+suddenly upon him.
+
+"Oh, well, certainly, for your sake," he said with rising color.
+
+"But not for your own?" she asked with almost the naivete of a
+child.
+
+He turned away with a perplexed laugh and replied: "Really, Miss
+Alford, you are worse than the Catechism."
+
+She looked at him with a half-amused, half-surprised expression,
+the thought occurring to her for the first time that it might not
+have been so disagreeable to him after all; and somehow this
+thought was quite a relief to her. But she said: "I thought you
+would regard me as a hoyden of the worst species."
+
+"Because you kissed your brother? I have never for a moment
+forgotten that it was only your misfortune that I was not he."
+
+"I should have remembered that it was not your fault. But here is
+your handkerchief, flying like a flag of truce; so let bygones be
+bygones. My terms are that you come again another year, and give
+me a chance to entertain my brother's friend as a sister ought."
+
+"I am only too glad to submit to them," he eagerly replied, and
+then added, so ardently as to deepen the roses already in her
+cheeks, "If such are your punishments, Miss Alford, how delicious
+must be your favors!"
+
+By common consent the subject was dropped; and with tongues
+released from awkward restraint, they chatted freely together,
+till in the early twilight they reached her home. The moment they
+entered George exultingly saw that the skies were serene.
+
+But Elsie would never be the frolicsome child of the past again.
+As she surprised the family at dinner, so now at supper they could
+scarcely believe that the elegant, graceful young lady was the
+witch of yesterday. She had resolved with all her soul to try to
+win some place in Mr. Stanhope's respect before he departed, and
+never did a little maiden succeed better.
+
+In the evening they had music; and Mr. Stanhope pleased them all
+with his fine tenor, while Elsie delighted him by her clear,
+birdlike voice. So the hours fled away.
+
+"You think better of the 'horrid man,' little Sis," said George,
+as he kissed her good-night.
+
+"I was the horrid one," said Elsie, penitently. "I can never
+forgive myself my absurd conduct. But he has promised to come
+again next Thanksgiving, and give me a chance to do better; so
+don't you fail to bring him."
+
+George gave a long, low whistle, and then said: "Oh! ah! Seems to
+me you are coming on, for an innocent. Are we to get mixed up
+again in the twilight?"
+
+"Nonsense!" said Elsie, with a peony face, and she slammed her
+door upon him.
+
+The next morning the young man took his leave, and Elsie's last
+words were:
+
+"Mr. Stanhope, remember your promise."
+
+And he did remember more than that, for this brief visit had
+enshrined a sweet, girlish face within his heart of hearts, and he
+no longer felt lonely and orphaned. He and George became the
+closest friends, and messages from the New England home came to
+him with increasing frequency, which he returned with prodigal
+interest. It also transpired that he occasionally wrote for the
+papers, and Elsie insisted that these should be sent to her; while
+he of course wrote much better with the certainty that she would
+be his critic. Thus, though separated, they daily became better
+acquainted, and during the year George found it not very difficult
+to induce his friend to make several visits.
+
+But it was with joy that seemed almost too rich for earthly
+experience that he found himself walking up the village street
+with George the ensuing Thanksgiving Eve. Elsie was at the door;
+and he pretended to be disconsolate that his reception was not the
+same as on the previous year. Indeed she had to endure not a
+little chaffing, for her mistake was a family joke now.
+
+It was a peerless Thanksgiving eve and day--one of the sun-lighted
+heights of human happiness.
+
+After dinner they all again took a walk up the brawling stream,
+and Stanhope and Elsie became separated from the rest, though not
+so innocently as on the former occasion.
+
+"See!" cried Elsie, pointing to the well-remembered sapling, which
+she had often visited. "There fluttered our flag of truce last
+year."
+
+Stanhope seized her hand and said eagerly: "And here I again break
+the truce, and renew the theme we dropped at this place. Oh,
+Elsie, I have felt that kiss in the depths of my heart every hour
+since; and in that it led to my knowing and loving you, it has
+made every day from that time one of thanksgiving. If you could
+return my love, as I have dared to hope, it would be a happiness
+beyond words. If I could venture to take one more kiss, as a token
+that it is returned, I could keep Thanksgiving forever."
+
+Her hand trembled in his, but was not withdrawn. Her blushing face
+was turned away toward the brawling stream; but she saw not its
+foam, she heard not its hoarse murmurs. A sweeter music was in her
+ears. She seemed under a delicious spell, but soon became
+conscious that a pair of dark eyes were looking down eagerly,
+anxiously for her answer. Shyly raising hers, that now were like
+dewy violets, she said, with a little of her old witchery:
+
+"I suppose you will have to kiss me this Thanksgiving, to make
+things even."
+
+Stanhope needed no broader hint.
+
+"I owe you a heavy grudge," said Mr. Alford, in the evening. "A
+year ago you robbed me of my child, for little, kittenish Elsie
+became a thoughtful woman from the day you were here; and now you
+are going to take away the daughter of my old age."
+
+"Yes, indeed, husband. Now you know how my father felt," said Mrs.
+Alford, at the same time wiping something from the corner of her
+eye.
+
+"Bless me, are you here?" said the old gentleman, wheeling round
+to his wife. "Mr. Stanhope, I have nothing more to say."
+
+"I declare," exulted George, "that 'horrid man' will devour Elsie
+yet."
+
+"Haw! haw! haw!" laughed big-voiced, big-hearted James. "The idea
+of our little witch of an Elsie being a minister's wife!"
+
+      *       *       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It is again Thanksgiving Eve. The trees are gaunt, the fields bare
+and brown, with dead leaves whirling across them; but a sweeter
+than June sunshine seems filling the cosey parlor where Elsie, a
+radiant bride, is receiving her husband's first kiss almost on the
+moment that she with her lips so unexpectedly kindled the sacred
+fire, three years before.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+SUSIE ROLLIFFE'S CHRISTMAS
+
+
+Picnicking in December would be a dreary experience even if one
+could command all the appliances of comfort which outdoor life
+permitted. This would be especially true in the latitude of Boston
+and on the bleak hills overlooking that city and its environing
+waters. Dreary business indeed Ezekiel Watkins regarded it as he
+shivered over the smoky camp-fire which he maintained with
+difficulty. The sun was sinking into the southwest so early in the
+day that he remarked irritably: "Durned if it was worth while for
+it to rise at all."
+
+Ezekiel Watkins, or Zeke, as he was generally known among his
+comrades, had ceased to be a resident on that rocky hillside from
+pleasure. His heart was in a Connecticut valley in more senses
+than one; and there was not a more homesick soldier in the army.
+It will be readily guessed that the events of our story occurred
+more than a century ago. The shots fired at Bunker Hill had echoed
+in every nook and corner of the New England colonies, and the
+heart of Zeke Watkins, among thousands of others, had been fired
+with military ardor. With companions in like frame of mind he had
+trudged to Boston, breathing slaughter and extermination against
+the red-coated instruments of English tyranny. To Zeke the
+expedition had many of the elements of an extended bear-hunt, much
+exalted. There was a spice of danger and a rich promise of novelty
+and excitement. The march to the lines about Boston had been a
+continuous ovation; grandsires came out from the wayside dwellings
+and blessed the rustic soldiers; they were dined profusely by the
+housewives, and if not wined, there had been slight stint in New
+England rum and cider; the apple-cheeked daughters of the land
+gave them the meed of heroes in advance, and abated somewhat of
+their ruddy hues at the thought of the dangers to be incurred.
+Zeke was visibly dilated by all this attention, incense, and
+military glory; and he stepped forth from each village and hamlet
+as if the world were scarcely large enough for the prowess of
+himself and companions. Even on parade he was as stiff as his
+long-barrelled flintlock, looking as if England could hope for no
+quarter at his hands; yet he permitted no admiring glances from
+bright eyes to escape him. He had not traversed half the distance
+between his native hamlet and Boston before he was abundantly
+satisfied that pretty Susie Rolliffe had made no mistake in
+honoring him among the recruits by marks of especial favor. He
+wore in his squirrel-skin cap the bit of blue ribbon she had given
+him, and with the mien of a Homeric hero had intimated darkly that
+it might be crimson before she saw it again. She had clasped her
+hands, stifled a little sob, and looked at him admiringly. He
+needed no stronger assurance than her eyes conveyed at that
+moment. She had been shy and rather unapproachable before, sought
+by others than himself, yet very chary of her smiles and favors to
+all. Her ancestors had fought the Indians, and had bequeathed to
+the demure little maiden much of their own indomitable spirit. She
+had never worn her heart on her sleeve, and was shy of her rustic
+admirers chiefly because none of them had realized her ideals of
+manhood created by fireside stories of the past.
+
+Zeke's chief competitor for Susie's favor had been Zebulon Jarvis;
+and while he had received little encouragement, he laid his
+unostentatious devotion at her feet unstintedly, and she knew it.
+Indeed, she was much inclined to laugh at him, for he was
+singularly bashful, and a frown from her overwhelmed him.
+Unsophisticated Susie reasoned that any one who could be so afraid
+of HER could not be much of a man. She had never heard of his
+doing anything bold and spirited. It might be said, indeed, that
+the attempt to wring a livelihood for his widowed mother and for
+his younger brothers and sisters from the stumpy, rocky farm
+required courage of the highest order; but it was not of a kind
+that appealed to the fancy of a romantic young girl. Nothing finer
+or grander had Zebulon attempted before the recruiting officer
+came to Opinquake, and when he came, poor Zeb appeared to hang
+back so timorously that he lost what little place he had in
+Susie's thoughts. She was ignorant of the struggle taking place in
+his loyal heart. More intense even than his love for her was the
+patriotic fire which smouldered in his breast; yet when other
+young men were giving in their names and drilling on the village
+green, he was absent. To the war appeals of those who sought him,
+he replied briefly. "Can't leave till fall."
+
+"But the fighting will be over long before that," it was urged.
+
+"So much the better for others, then, if not for me."
+
+Zeke Watkins made it his business that Susie should hear this
+reply in the abbreviated form of, "So much the better, then."
+
+She had smiled scornfully, and it must be added, a little
+bitterly. In his devotion Zeb had been so helpless, so diffidently
+unable to take his own part and make advances that she, from odd
+little spasms of sympathy, had taken his part for him, and
+laughingly repeated to herself in solitude all the fine speeches
+which she perceived he would be glad to make. But, as has been
+intimated, it seemed to her droll indeed that such a great
+stalwart fellow should appear panic-stricken in her diminutive
+presence. In brief, he had been timidity embodied under her
+demurely mischievous blue eyes; and now that the recruiting
+officer had come and marched away with his squad without him, she
+felt incensed that such a chicken-hearted fellow had dared to lift
+his eyes to her.
+
+"It would go hard with the Widow Jarvis and all those children if
+Zeb 'listed," Susie's mother had ventured in half-hearted defence,
+for did she not look upon him as a promising suitor.
+
+"The people of Opinquake wouldn't let the widow or the children
+starve," replied Susie, indignantly. "If I was a big fellow like
+him, my country would not call me twice. Think how grandfather
+left grandma and all the children!"
+
+"Well, I guess Zeb thinks he has his hands full wrastling with
+that stony farm."
+
+"He needn't come to see me any more, or steal glances at me 'tween
+meetings on Sunday," said the girl, decisively. "He cuts a sorry
+figure beside Zeke Watkins, who was the first to give in his name,
+and who began to march like a soldier even before he left us."
+
+"Yes," said Mrs. Rolliffe; "Zeke was very forward. If he holds out
+as he began--Well, well, Zeke allus was a little forward, and able
+to speak for himself. You are young yet, Susan, and may learn
+before you reach my years that the race isn't allus to the swift.
+Don't be in haste to promise yourself to any of the young men."
+
+"Little danger of my promising myself to a man who is afraid even
+of me! I want a husband like grandfather. He wasn't afraid to face
+anything, and he honored his wife by acting as if she wasn't
+afraid either."
+
+Zeb gave Susie no chance to bestow the rebuffs she had
+premeditated. He had been down to witness the departure of the
+Opinquake quota, and had seen Susie's farewell to Zeke Watkins.
+How much it had meant he was not sure--enough to leave no hope or
+chance for him, he had believed; but he had already fought his
+first battle, and it had been a harder one than Zeke Watkins or
+any of his comrades would ever engage in. He had returned and
+worked on the stony farm until dark. From dawn until dark he
+continued to work every secular day till September.
+
+His bronzed face grew as stern as it was thin; and since he would
+no longer look at her, Susie Rolliffe began to steal an occasional
+and wondering glance at him "'tween meetings."
+
+No one understood the young man or knew his plans except his
+patient, sad-eyed mother, and she learned more by her intuitions
+than from his spoken words. She idolized him, and he loved and
+revered her: but the terrible Puritan restraint paralyzed
+manifestations of affection. She was not taken by surprise when
+one evening he said quietly, "Mother, I guess I'll start in a day
+or two."
+
+She could not repress a sort of gasping sob however, but after a
+few moments was able to say steadily, "I supposed you were
+preparing to leave us."
+
+"Yes, mother, I've been a-preparing. I've done my best to gather
+in everything that would help keep you and the children and the
+stock through the winter. The corn is all shocked, and the older
+children can help you husk it, and gather in the pumpkins, the
+beans, and the rest. As soon as I finish digging the potatoes I
+think I'll feel better to be in the lines around Boston. I'd have
+liked to have gone at first, but in order to fight as I ought I'd
+want to remember there was plenty to keep you and the children."
+
+"I'm afraid, Zebulon, you've been fighting as well as working so
+hard all summer long. For my sake and the children's, you've been
+letting Susan Rolliffe think meanly of you."
+
+"I can't help what she thinks, mother; I've tried not to act
+meanly."
+
+"Perhaps the God of the widow and the fatherless will shield and
+bless you, my son. Be that as it may," she added with a heavy
+sigh, "conscience and His will must guide in everything. If He
+says go forth to battle, what am I that I should stay you?"
+Although she did not dream of the truth, the Widow Jarvis was a
+disciplined soldier herself. To her, faith meant unquestioning
+submission and obedience; she had been taught to revere a jealous
+and an exacting God rather than a loving one. The heroism with
+which she pursued her toilsome, narrow, shadowed pathway was as
+sublime as it was unrecognized on her part. After she had retired
+she wept sorely, not only because her eldest child was going to
+danger, and perhaps death, but also for the reason that her heart
+clung to him so weakly and selfishly, as she believed. With a
+tenderness of which she was half-ashamed she filled his wallet
+with provisions which would add to his comfort, then, both to his
+surprise and her own, kissed him good-by. He left her and the
+younger brood with an aching heart of which there was little
+outward sign, and with no loftier ambition than to do his duty;
+she followed him with deep, wistful eyes till he, and next the
+long barrel of his rifle, disappeared in an angle of the road, and
+then her interrupted work was resumed.
+
+Susie Rolliffe was returning from an errand to a neighbor's when
+she heard the sound of long rapid steps.
+
+A hasty glance revealed Zeb in something like pursuit. Her heart
+fluttered slightly, for he had looked so stern and sad of late
+that she had felt a little sorry for him in spite of herself. But
+since he could "wrastle" with nothing more formidable than a stony
+farm, she did not wish to have anything to say to him, or meet the
+embarrassment of explaining a tacit estrangement. She was glad,
+therefore, that her gate was so near, and passed in as if she had
+not recognized him. She heard his steps become slower and pause at
+the gate, and then almost in shame in being guilty of too marked
+discourtesy, she turned to speak, but hesitated in surprise, for
+now she recognized his equipment as a soldier.
+
+"Why, Mr. Jarvis, where are you going?" she exclaimed.
+
+A dull red flamed through the bronze of his thin cheeks as he
+replied awkwardly, "I thought I'd take a turn in the lines around
+Boston."
+
+"Oh, yes," she replied, mischievously, "take a turn in the lines.
+Then we may expect you back by corn-husking?"
+
+He was deeply wounded, and in his embarrassment could think of no
+other reply than the familiar words, "'Let not him that girdeth on
+his harness boast himself as he that putteth it off.'"
+
+"I can't help hoping, Mr. Jarvis, that neither you nor others will
+put it off too soon--not, at least, while King George claims to be
+our master. When we're free I can stand any amount of boasting."
+
+"You'll never hear boasting from me, Miss Susie;" and then an
+awkward silence fell between them.
+
+Shyly and swiftly she raised her eyes. He looked so humble,
+deprecatory, and unsoldier-like that she could not repress a
+laugh. "I'm not a British cannon," she began, "that you should be
+so fearful."
+
+His manhood was now too deeply wounded for further endurance even
+from her, for he suddenly straightened himself, and throwing his
+rifle over his shoulder, said sternly, "I'm not a coward. I never
+hung back from fear, but to keep mother from charity, so I could
+fight or die as God wills. You may laugh at the man who never gave
+you anything but love, if you will, but you shall never laugh at
+my deeds. Call that boasting or not as you please," and he turned
+on his heel to depart.
+
+His words and manner almost took away the girl's breath, so
+unexpected were they, and unlike her idea of the man. In that
+brief moment a fearless soldier had flashed himself upon her
+consciousness, revealing a spirit that would flinch at nothing--
+that had not even quailed at the necessity of forfeiting her
+esteem, that his mother might not want. Humiliated and conscience-
+stricken that she had done him so much injustice, she rushed
+forward, crying, "Stop, Zebulon; please do not go away angry with
+me! I do not forget that we have been old friends and playmates.
+I'm willing to own that I've been wrong about you, and that's a
+good deal for a girl to do. I only wish I were a man, and I'd go
+with you."
+
+Her kindness restored him to his awkward self again, and he
+stammered, "I wish you were--no, I don't--I merely stopped,
+thinking you might have a message; but I'd rather not take any to
+Zeke Watkins--will, though, if you wish. It cut me all up to have
+you think I was afraid," and then he became speechless.
+
+"But you acted as if you were afraid of me, and that seemed so
+ridiculous."
+
+He looked at her a moment so earnestly with his dark, deep-set
+eyes that hers dropped. "Miss Susie," he said slowly, and speaking
+with difficulty, "I AM afraid of you, next to God. I don't suppose
+I've any right to talk to you so, and I will say good-by. I was
+reckless when I spoke before. Perhaps--you'll go and see mother.
+My going is hard on her."
+
+His eyes lingered on her a moment longer, as if he were taking his
+last look, then he turned slowly away.
+
+"Good-by, Zeb," she called softly. "I didn't--I don't understand.
+Yes, I will go to see your mother."
+
+Susie also watched him as he strode away. He thought he could
+continue on steadfastly without looking back, but when the road
+turned he also turned, fairly tugged right about by his loyal
+heart. She stood where he had left her, and promptly waved her
+hand. He doffed his cap, and remained a moment in an attitude that
+appeared to her reverential, then passed out of view.
+
+The moments lapsed, and still she stood in the gateway, looking
+down the vacant road as if dazed. Was it in truth awkward, bashful
+Zeb Jarvis who had just left her? He seemed a new and distinct
+being in contrast to the youth whom she had smiled at and in a
+measure scoffed at. The little Puritan maiden was not a reasoner,
+but a creature of impressions and swift intuitions. Zeb had not
+set his teeth, faced his hard duty, and toiled that long summer in
+vain. He had developed a manhood and a force which in one brief
+moment had enabled him to compel her recognition.
+
+"He will face anything," she murmured. "He's afraid of only God
+and me; what a strange thing to say--afraid of me next to God!
+Sounds kind of wicked. What can he mean? Zeke Watkins wasn't a bit
+afraid of me. As mother said, he was a little forward, and I was
+fool enough to take him at his own valuation. Afraid of me! How he
+stood with his cap off. Do men ever love so? Is there a kind of
+reverence in some men's love? How absurd that a great strong,
+brave man, ready to face cannons, can bow down to such a little--"
+Her fragmentary exclamations ended in a peal of laughter, but
+tears dimmed her blue eyes.
+
+Susie did visit Mrs. Jarvis, and although the reticent woman said
+little about her son, what she did say meant volumes to the girl
+who now had the right clew in interpreting his action and
+character. She too was reticent. New England girls rarely gushed
+in those days, so no one knew she was beginning to understand. Her
+eyes, experienced in country work, were quick, and her mind
+active. "It looks as if a giant had been wrestling with this stony
+farm," she muttered.
+
+Zeb received no ovations on his lonely tramp to the lines, and the
+vision of Susie Rolliffe waving her hand from the gateway would
+have blinded him to all the bright and admiring eyes in the world.
+He was hospitably entertained, however, when there was occasion;
+but the advent of men bound for the army had become an old story.
+Having at last inquired his way to the position occupied by the
+Connecticut troops, he was assigned to duty in the same company
+with Zeke Watkins, who gave him but a cool reception, and sought
+to overawe him by veteran-like airs. At first poor Zeb was awkward
+enough in his unaccustomed duties, and no laugh was so scornful as
+that of his rival. Young Jarvis, however, had not been many days
+in camp before he guessed that Zeke's star was not in the
+ascendant. There was but little fighting required, but much
+digging of intrenchments, drill, and monotonous picket duty. Zeke
+did not take kindly to such tasks, and shirked them when possible.
+He was becoming known as the champion grumbler in the mess, and no
+one escaped his criticism, not even "Old Put"--as General Putnam,
+who commanded the Connecticut quota, was called. Jarvis, on the
+other hand, performed his military duties as he had worked the
+farm, and rapidly acquired the bearing of a soldier. Indomitable
+Putnam gave his men little rest, and was ever seeking to draw his
+lines nearer to Boston and the enemy's ships. He virtually fought
+with pick and shovel, and his working parties were often exposed
+to fire while engaged in fortifying the positions successively
+occupied. The Opinquake boys regarded themselves as well seasoned
+to such rude compliments, and were not a little curious to see how
+Zeb would handle a shovel with cannon-balls whizzing uncomfortably
+near. The opportunity soon came. Old Put himself could not have
+been more coolly oblivious than the raw recruit. At last a ball
+smashed his shovel to smithereens; he quietly procured another and
+went on with his work. Then his former neighbors gave him a cheer,
+while his captain clapped him on the shoulder and said, "Promote
+you to be a veteran on the spot!"
+
+The days had grown shorter, colder, and drearier, and the
+discomforts of camp-life harder to endure. There were few tents
+even for the officers, and the men were compelled to improvise
+such shelter as circumstances permitted. Huts of stone, wood, and
+brush, and barricades against the wind, lined the hillside, and
+the region already was denuded of almost everything that would
+burn. Therefore, when December came, Zeke Watkins found that even
+a fire was a luxury not to be had without trouble. He had become
+thoroughly disgusted with a soldier's life, and the military glory
+which had at first so dazzled him now wore the aspect of the
+wintry sky. He had recently sought and attained the only promotion
+for which his captain now deemed him fitted--that of cook for
+about a dozen of his comrades; and the close of the December day
+found him preparing the meagre supper which the limited rations
+permitted. By virtue of his office, Zeke was one of the best-fed
+men in the army, for if there were any choice morsels he could
+usually manage to secure them; still, he was not happy. King
+George and Congress were both pursuing policies inconsistent with
+his comfort, and he sighed more and more frequently for the wide
+kitchen-hearth of his home, which was within easy visiting
+distance of the Rolliffe farmhouse. His term of enlistment expired
+soon, and he was already counting the days. He was not alone in
+his discontent, for there was much homesickness and disaffection
+among the Connecticut troops. Many had already departed, unwilling
+to stay an hour after the expiration of their terms; and not a few
+had anticipated the periods which legally released them from duty.
+The organization of the army was so loose that neither appeals nor
+threats had much influence, and Washington, in deep solicitude,
+saw his troops melting away.
+
+It was dark by the time the heavy tramp of the working party was
+heard returning from the fortifications. The great mess-pot,
+partly filled with pork and beans, was bubbling over the fire;
+Zeke, shifting his position from time to time to avoid the smoke
+which the wind, as if it had a spite against him, blew in his
+face, was sourly contemplating his charge and his lot, bent on
+grumbling to the others with even greater gusto than he had
+complained to himself. His comrades carefully put away their
+intrenching tools, for they were held responsible for them, and
+then gathered about the fire, clamoring for supper.
+
+"Zeke, you lazy loon," cried Nat Atkinson, "how many pipes have
+you smoked to-day? If you'd smoke less and forage and dun the
+commissary more, we'd have a little fresh meat once in a hundred
+years."
+
+"Yes, just about once in a hundred years!" snarled Zeke.
+
+"YOU find something to keep fat on, anyhow. We'll broil you some
+cold night. Trot out your beans if there's nothing else."
+
+"Growl away," retorted Zeke. "'Twon't be long before I'll be
+eating chickens and pumpkin-pie in Opinquake, instead of cooking
+beans and rusty pork for a lot of hungry wolves."
+
+"You'd be the hungriest wolf of the lot if you'd 'a' been picking
+and shovelling frozen ground all day."
+
+"I didn't 'list to be a ditch-digger!" said Zeke. "I thought I was
+going to be a soldier."
+
+"And you turned out a cook!" quietly remarked Zeb Jarvis.
+
+"Well, my hero of the smashed shovel, what do you expect to be--
+Old Put's successor? You know, fellows, it's settled that you're
+to dig your way into Boston, tunnel under the water when you come
+to it. Of course Put will die of old age before you get half
+there. Zeb'll be the chap of all others to command a division of
+shovellers. I see you with a pickaxe strapped on your side instead
+of a sword."
+
+"Lucky I'm not in command now," replied Zeb, "or you'd shovel dirt
+under fire to the last hour of your enlistment. I'd give grumblers
+like you something to grumble about. See here, fellows, I'm sick
+of this seditious talk in our mess. The Connecticut men are
+getting to be the talk of the army. You heard a squad of New
+Hampshire boys jeer at us to-day, and ask, 'When are ye going home
+to mother?' You ask, Zeke Watkins, what I expect to be. I expect
+to be a soldier, and obey orders as long as Old Put and General
+Washington want a man. All I ask is to be home summers long enough
+to keep mother and the children off the town. Now what do you
+expect to be after you give up your cook's ladle?"
+
+"None o' your business."
+
+"He's going home to court Susie Rolliffe," cried Nat Atkinson.
+"They'll be married in the spring, and go into the chicken
+business. That'd just suit Zeke."
+
+"It would not suit Susie Rolliffe," said Zeb, hotly. "A braver,
+better girl doesn't breathe in the colonies, and the man that says
+a slurring word against her's got to fight me."
+
+"What! Has she given Zeke the mitten for your sake, Zeb?" piped
+little Hiram Woodbridge.
+
+"She hasn't given me anything, and I've got no claim; but she is
+the kind of girl that every fellow from Opinquake should stand up
+for. We all know that there is nothing chicken-hearted about her."
+
+"Eight, by George--George W., I mean, and not the king," responded
+Hiram Woodbridge. "Here's to her health, Zeb, and your success! I
+believe she'd rather marry a soldier than a cook."
+
+"Thank you," said Zeb. "You stand as good a chance as I do; but
+don't let's bandy her name about in camp any more'n we would our
+mother's. The thing for us to do now is to show that the men from
+Connecticut have as much backbone as any other fellows in the
+army, North or South. Zeke may laugh at Old Put's digging, but
+you'll soon find that he'll pick his way to a point where he can
+give the Britishers a dig under the fifth rib. We've got the best
+general in the army. Washington, with all his Southern style,
+believes in him and relies on him. Whether their time's up or not,
+it's a burning shame that so many of his troops are sneaking off
+home."
+
+"It's all very well for you to talk, Zeb Jarvis," growled Zeke.
+"You haven't been here very long yet; and you stayed at home when
+others started out to fight. Now that you've found that digging
+and not fighting is the order of the day, you're just suited. It's
+the line of soldiering you are cut out for. When fighting men and
+not ditch-diggers are wanted, you'll find me---"
+
+"All right, Watkins," said the voice of Captain Dean from without
+the circle of light. "According to your own story you are just the
+kind of man needed to-night--no ditch-digging on hand, but
+dangerous service. I detail you, for you've had rest compared with
+the other men. I ask for volunteers from those who've been at work
+all day."
+
+Zeb Jarvis was on his feet instantly, and old Ezra Stokes also
+began to rise with difficulty. "No, Stokes," resumed the officer,
+"you can't go. I know you've suffered with the rheumatism all day,
+and have worked well in spite of it. For to-night's work I want
+young fellows with good legs and your spirit. How is it you're
+here anyhow Stokes? Your time's up."
+
+"We ain't into Boston yet," was the quiet reply.
+
+"So you want to stay?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Then you shall cook for the men till you're better. I won't keep
+so good a soldier, though, at such work any longer than I can
+help. Your good example and that of the gallant Watkins has
+brought out the whole squad. I think I'll put Jarvis in command,
+though; Zeke might be rash, and attempt the capture of Boston
+before morning;" and the facetious captain, who had once been a
+neighbor, concluded, "Jarvis, see that every man's piece is primed
+and ready for use. Be at my hut in fifteen minutes." Then he
+passed on to the other camp-fires.
+
+In a few minutes Ezra Stokes was alone by the fire, almost
+roasting his lame leg, and grumbling from pain and the necessity
+of enforced inaction. He was a taciturn, middle-age man, and had
+been the only bachelor of mature years in Opinquake. Although he
+rarely said much, he had been a great listener, and no one had
+been better versed in neighborhood affairs. In brief, he had been
+the village cobbler, and had not only taken the measure of Susie
+Rolliffe's little foot, but also of her spirit. Like herself he
+had been misled at first by the forwardness of Zeke Watkins and
+the apparent backwardness of Jarvis. Actual service had changed
+his views very decidedly. When Zeb appeared he had watched the
+course of this bashful suitor with interest which had rapidly
+ripened into warm but undemonstrative goodwill. The young fellow
+had taken pains to relieve the older man, had carried his tools
+for him, and more than once with his strong hands had almost
+rubbed the rheumatism out of the indomitable cobbler's leg. He had
+received but slight thanks, and had acted as if he didn't care for
+any. Stokes was not a man to return favors in words; be brooded
+over his gratitude as if it were a grudge. "I'll get even with
+that young Jarvis yet," he muttered, as he nursed his leg over the
+fire. "I know he worships the ground that little Rolliffe girl
+treads on, though she don't tread on much at a time. She never
+trod on me nuther, though I've had her foot in my hand more'n
+once. She looked at the man that made her shoes as if she would
+like to make him happier. When a little tot, she used to say I
+could come and live with her when I got too old to take care of
+myself. Lame as I be, I'd walk to Opinquake to give her a hint in
+her choosin'. Guess Hi Woodbridge is right, and she wouldn't be
+long in making up her mind betwixt a soger and a cook--a mighty
+poor one at that. Somehow or nuther I must let her know before
+Zeke Watkins sneaks home and parades around as a soldier 'bove
+ditch-digging. I've taken his measure.
+
+"He'll be putting on veteran airs, telling big stories of what
+he's going to do when soldiers are wanted, and drilling such fools
+as believe in him. Young gals are often taken by such strutters,
+and think that men like Jarvis, who darsn't speak for themselves,
+are of no account. But I'll put a spoke in Zeke's wheel, if I have
+to get the captain to write."
+
+It thus may be gathered that the cobbler had much to say to
+himself when alone, though so taciturn to others.
+
+The clouds along the eastern horizon were stained with red before
+the reconnoitring party returned. Stokes had managed, by hobbling
+about, to keep up the fire and to fill the mess-kettle with the
+inevitable pork and beans. The hungry, weary men therefore gave
+their new cook a cheer when they saw the good fire and provision
+awaiting them. A moment later, however, Jarvis observed how lame
+Stokes had become; he took the cobbler by the shoulder and sat him
+down in the warmest nook, saying, "I'll be assistant cook until
+you are better. As Zeke says, I'm a wolf sure enough; but as
+soon's the beast's hunger is satisfied, I'll rub that leg of yours
+till you'll want to dance a jig;" and with the ladle wrung from
+Stokes's reluctant hand, he began stirring the seething contents
+of the kettle.
+
+Then little Hi Woodbridge piped in his shrill voice, "Another
+cheer for our assistant cook and ditch-digger! I say, Zeke,
+wouldn't you like to tell Ezra that Zeb has showed himself fit for
+something more than digging? You expressed your opinion very plain
+last night, and may have a different one now."
+
+Zeke growld something inaudible, and stalked to his hut in order
+to put away his equipments.
+
+"I'm cook-in-chief yet," Stokes declared; "and not a bean will any
+one of you get till you report all that happened."
+
+"Well," piped Hi, "you may stick a feather in your old cap, Ezra,
+for our Opinquake lad captured a British officer last night, and
+Old Put is pumping him this blessed minute."
+
+"Well, well, that is news. It must have been Zeke who did that
+neat job," exclaimed Stokes, ironically; "he's been a-pining for
+the soldier business."
+
+"No, no; Zeke's above such night scrimmages. He wants to swim the
+bay and walk right into Boston in broad daylight, so everybody can
+see him. Come, Zeb, tell how it happened. It was so confounded
+dark, no one can tell but you."
+
+"There isn't much to tell that you fellows don't know," was Zeb's
+laconic answer. "We had sneaked down on the neck so close to the
+enemy's lines---"
+
+"Yes, yes, Zeb Jarvis," interrupted Stokes, "that's the kind of
+sneaking you're up to--close to the enemy's lines. Go on."
+
+"Well, I crawled up so close that I saw a Britisher going the
+round of the sentinels, and I pounced on him and brought him out
+on the run, that's all."
+
+"Oho! you both ran away, then? That wasn't good soldiering either,
+was it, Zeke?" commented Stokes, in his dry way.
+
+"It's pretty good soldiering to stand fire within an inch of your
+nose," resumed Hi, who had become a loyal friend and adherent of
+his tall comrade. "Zeb was so close on the Britisher when he fired
+his pistol that we saw the faces of both in the flash; and a lot
+of bullets sung after us, I can sell you, as we dusted out of
+those diggin's."
+
+"Compliments of General Putnam to Sergeant Zebulon Jarvis," said
+an orderly, riding out of the dim twilight of the morning. "The
+general requests your presence at headquarters."
+
+"Sergeant! promoted! Another cheer for Zeb!" and the Opinquake
+boys gave it with hearty goodwill.
+
+"Jerusalem, fellows! I'd like to have a chance at those beans
+before I go!" but Zeb promptly tramped off with the orderly.
+
+When he returned he was subjected to a fire of questions by the
+two or three men still awake, but all they could get out of him
+was that he had been given a good breakfast. From Captain Dean,
+who was with the general at the time of the examination, it leaked
+out that Zeb was in the line of promotion to a rank higher than
+that of sergeant.
+
+The next few days passed uneventfully; and Zeke was compelled to
+resume the pick and shovel again. Stokes did his best to fulfil
+his duties, but it had become evident to all that the exposure of
+camp would soon disable him utterly. Jarvis and Captain Dean
+persuaded him to go home for the winter, and the little squad
+raised a sum which enabled him to make the journey in a stage.
+Zeke, sullen toward his jeering comrades, but immensely elated in
+secret, had shaken the dust--snow and slush rather--of camp-life
+from his feet the day before. He had the grace to wait till the
+time of his enlistment expired, and that was more than could be
+said of many.
+
+It spoke well for the little Opinquake quota that only two others
+besides Zeke availed themselves of their liberty. Poor Stokes was
+almost forced away, consoled by the hope of returning in the
+spring. Zeb was sore-hearted on the day of Zeke's departure. His
+heart was in the Connecticut Valley also. No message had come to
+him from Susie Rolliffe. Those were not the days of swift and
+frequent communication. Even Mrs. Jarvis had written but seldom,
+and her missives were brief. Mother-love glowed through the few
+quaint and scriptural phrases like heat in anthracite coals. All
+that poor Zeb could learn from them was that Susie Rolliffe had
+kept her word and had been to the farm more than once; but the
+girl had been as reticent as the mother. Zeke was now on his way
+home to prosecute his suit in person, and Zeb well knew how
+forward and plausible he could be. There was no deed of daring
+that he would not promise to perform after spring opened, and Zeb
+reasoned gloomily that a present lover, impassioned and
+importunate, would stand a better chance than an absent one who
+had never been able to speak for himself.
+
+When it was settled that Stokes should return to Opinquake, Zeb
+determined that he would not give up the prize to Zeke without one
+decisive effort; and as he was rubbing the cobbler's leg, he
+stammered, "I say Ezra, will you do me a turn? 'Twon't be so much,
+what I ask, except that I'll like you to keep mum about it, and
+you're a good hand at keeping mum."
+
+"I know what yer driving at, Zeb. Write yer letter and I'll
+deliver it with my own hands."
+
+"Well, now, I'm satisfied, I can stay on and fight it out with a
+clear mind. When Zeke marched away last summer, I thought it was
+all up with me; and I can tell you that any fighting that's to do
+about Boston will be fun compared with the fighting I did while
+hoeing corn and mowing grass. But I don't believe that Susie
+Rolliffe is promised to Zeke Watkins, or any one else yet, and I'm
+going to give her a chance to refuse me plump."
+
+"That's the way to do it, Zeb," said the bachelor cobbler, with an
+emphasis that would indicate much successful experience. "Asking a
+girl plump is like standing up in a fair fight. It gives the girl
+a chance to bowl you over, if that's her mind, so there can't be
+any mistake about it; and it seems to me the women-folks ought to
+have all the chances that in any way belong to them. They have got
+few enough anyhow."
+
+"And you think it'll end in my being bowled over?"
+
+"How should I know, or you either, unless you make a square trial?
+You're such a strapping, fighting feller that nothing but a
+cannon-ball or a woman ever will knock you off your pins."
+
+"See here, Ezra Stokes, the girl of my heart may refuse me just as
+plump as I offer myself; and if that's her mind she has a right to
+do it. But I don't want either you or her to think I won't stand
+on my feet. I won't even fight any more recklessly than my duty
+requires. I have a mother to take care of, even if I never have a
+wife."
+
+"I'll put in a few pegs right along to keep in mind what you say;
+and I'll give you a fair show by seeing to it that the girl gets
+your letter before Zeke can steal a march on you."
+
+"That's all I ask," said Zeb, with compressed lips. "She shall
+choose between us. It's hard enough to write, but it will be a
+sight easier than facing her. Not a word of this to another soul,
+Ezra; but I'm not going to use you like a mail-carrier, but a
+friend. After all, there are few in Opinquake, I suppose, but know
+I'd give my eyes for her, so there isn't much use of my putting on
+secret airs."
+
+"I'm not a talker, and you might have sent your letter by a worse
+messenger'n me," was the laconic reply.
+
+Zeb had never written a love-letter, and was at a loss how to
+begin or end it. But time pressed, and he had to say what was
+uppermost in his mind. It ran as follows:
+
+"I don't know how to write so as to give my words weight. I cannot
+come home; I will not come as long as mother and the children can
+get on without me. And men are needed here; men are needed. The
+general fairly pleads with the soldiers to stay. Stokes would stay
+if he could. We're almost driving him home. I know you will be
+kind to him, and remember he has few to care for him. I cannot
+speak for myself in person very soon, if ever. Perhaps I could not
+if I stood before you. You laugh at me; but if you knew how I love
+you and remember you, how I honor and almost worship you in my
+heart, you might understand me better. Why is it strange I should
+be afraid of you? Only God has more power over me than you. Will
+you be my wife? I will do anything to win you that YOU can ask.
+Others will plead with you in person. Will you let this letter
+plead for the absent?"
+
+Zeb went to the captain's quarters and got some wax with which to
+seal this appeal, then saw Stokes depart with the feeling that his
+destiny was now at stake.
+
+Meanwhile Zeke Watkins, with a squad of homeward-bound soldiers,
+was trudging toward Opinquake. They soon began to look into one
+another's faces in something like dismay. But little provision was
+in their wallets when they had started, for there was little to
+draw upon, and that furnished grudgingly, as may well be supposed.
+Zeke had not cared. He remembered the continuous feasting that had
+attended his journey to camp, and supposed that he would only have
+to present himself to the roadside farmhouses in order to enjoy
+the fat of the land. This hospitality he proposed to repay
+abundantly by camp reminiscences in which it would not be
+difficult to insinuate that the hero of the scene was present.
+
+In contrast to these rose-hued expectations, doors were slammed in
+their faces, and they were treated little better than tramps. "I
+suppose the people near Boston have been called on too often and
+imposed on, too," Zeke reasoned rather ruefully. "When we once get
+over the Connecticut border we'll begin to find ourselves at
+home;" and spurred by hunger and cold, as well as hope, they
+pushed on desperately, subsisting on such coarse provisions as
+they could obtain, sleeping in barns when it stormed, and not
+infrequently by a fire in the woods. At last they passed the
+Connecticut border, and led by Zeke they urged their way to a
+large farmhouse, at which, but a few months before, the table had
+groaned under rustic dainties, and feather-beds had luxuriously
+received the weary recruits bound to the front. They approached
+the opulent farm in the dreary dark of the evening, and pursued by
+a biting east wind laden with snow. Not only the weather, but the
+very dogs seemed to have a spite against them; and the family had
+to rush out to call them off.
+
+"Weary soldiers ask for shelter," began Zeke.
+
+"Of course you're bound for the lines," said the matronly
+housewife. "Come in."
+
+Zeke thought they would better enter at once before explaining;
+and truly the large kitchen, with a great fire blazing on the
+hearth, seemed like heaven. The door leading into the family
+sitting-room was open, and there was another fire, with the red-
+cheeked girls and the white-haired grandsire before it, their eyes
+turned expectantly toward the new-comers. Instead of hearty
+welcome, there was a questioning look on every face, even on that
+of the kitchen-maid. Zeke's four companions had a sort of hang-dog
+look--for they had been cowed by the treatment received along the
+road; but he tried to bear himself confidently, and began with an
+insinuating smile, "Perhaps I should hardly expect you to remember
+me. I passed this way last summer---"
+
+"Passed this way last summer?" repeated the matron, her face
+growing stern. "We who cannot fight are ready and glad to share
+all we have with those who fight for us. Since you carry arms we
+might very justly think you are hastening forward to use them."
+
+"These are our own arms; we furnished them ourselves," Zeke
+hastened to say.
+
+"Oh, indeed," replied the matron, coldly; "I supposed that not
+only the weapons, but the ones who carry them, belonged to the
+country. I hope you are not deserting from the army."
+
+"I assure you we are not. Our terms of enlistment have expired."
+
+"And your country's need was over at the same moment? Are you
+hastening home at this season to plow and sow and reap?"
+
+"Well, madam, after being away so long we felt like having a
+little comfort and seeing the folks. We stayed a long as we
+agreed. When spring opens, or before, if need be---"
+
+"Pardon me, sir; the need is now. The country is not to be saved
+by men who make bargains like day-laborers, and who quit when the
+hour is up, but by soldiers who give themselves to their country
+as they would to their wives and sweethearts. My husband and sons
+are in the army you have deserted. General Washington has written
+to our governor asking whether an example should not be made of
+the men who have deserted the cause of their country at this
+critical time when the enemy are receiving re-enforcements. We are
+told that Connecticut men have brought disgrace on our colony and
+have imperilled the whole army. You feel like taking comfort and
+seeing the folks. The folks do not feel like seeing you. My
+husband and the brave men in the lines are in all the more danger
+because of your desertion, for a soldier's time never expires when
+the enemy is growing stronger and threatening every home in the
+land. If all followed your example, the British would soon be upon
+your heels, taking from us our honor and our all. We are not
+ignorant of the critical condition of our army; and I can tell
+you, sir, that if many more of our men come home, the women will
+take their places."
+
+Zeke's companions succumbed to the stern arraignment, and after a
+brief whispered consultation one spoke for the rest. "Madam," he
+said, "you put it in a way that we hadn't realized before. We'll
+right-about-face and march back in the morning, for we feel that
+we'd rather face all the British in Boston than any more
+Connecticut women."
+
+"Then, sirs, you shall have supper and shelter and welcome," was
+the prompt reply.
+
+Zeke assumed an air of importance as he said: "There are reasons
+why I must be at home for a time, but I not only expect to return,
+but also to take many back with me."
+
+"I trust your deeds may prove as large as your words," was the
+chilly reply; and then he was made to feel that he was barely
+tolerated. Some hints from his old associates added to the
+disfavor which the family took but little pains to conceal. There
+was a large vein of selfish calculation in Zeke's nature, and he
+was not to be swept away by any impulses. He believed he could
+have a prolonged visit home, yet manage so admirably that when he
+returned he would be followed by a squad of recruits, and chief of
+all he would be the triumphant suitor of Susie Rolliffe. Her
+manner in parting had satisfied him that he had made go deep an
+impression that it would be folly not to follow it up. He trudged
+the remainder of the journey alone, and secured tolerable
+treatment by assuring the people that he was returning for
+recruits for the army. He reached home in the afternoon of
+Christmas; and although the day was almost completely ignored in
+the Puritan household, yet Mrs. Watkins forgot country, Popery,
+and all, in her mother love, and Zeke supped on the finest turkey
+of the flock. Old Mr. Watkins, it is true, looked rather grim, but
+the reception had been reassuring in the main; and Zeke had
+resolved on a line of tactics which would make him, as he
+believed, the military hero of the town. After he had satisfied an
+appetite which had been growing ever since he left camp, he
+started to call on Susie in all the bravery of his best attire,
+filled with sanguine expectations inspired by memories of the past
+and recent potations of cider.
+
+Meanwhile Susie had received a guest earlier in the day. The stage
+had stopped at the gate where she had stood in the September
+sunshine and waved her bewildered farewell to Zeb. There was no
+bewilderment or surprise now at her strange and unwonted
+sensations. She had learned why she had stood looking after him
+dazed and spellbound. Under the magic of her own light irony she
+had seen her drooping rustic lover transformed into the ideal man
+who could face anything except her unkindness. She had guessed the
+deep secret of his timidity. It was a kind of fear of which she
+had not dreamed, and which touched her innermost soul.
+
+When the stage stopped at the gate, and she saw the driver helping
+out Ezra Stokes, a swift presentiment made her sure that she would
+hear from one soldier who was more to her than all the generals.
+She was soon down the walk, the wind sporting in her light-gold
+hair, supporting the cobbler on the other side.
+
+"Ah, Miss Susie!" he said, "I am about worn out, sole and upper.
+It breaks my heart, when men are so sorely needed, to be thrown
+aside like an old shoe."
+
+The girl soothed and comforted him, ensconced him by the fireside,
+banishing the chill from his heart, while Mrs. Rolliffe warmed his
+blood by a strong, hot drink. Then the mother hastened away to get
+dinner, while Susie sat down near, nervously twisting and
+untwisting her fingers, with questions on her lips which she dared
+not utter, but which brought blushes to her cheeks. Stokes looked
+at her and sighed over his lost youth, yet smiled as he thought:
+"Guess I'll get even with that Zeb Jarvis to-day." Then he asked,
+"Isn't there any one you would like to hear about in camp?"
+
+She blushed deeper still, and named every one who had gone from
+Opinquake except Zeb. At last she said a little ironically: "I
+suppose Ezekiel Watkins is almost thinking about being a general
+about this time?"
+
+"Hasn't he been here telling you what he is thinking about?"
+
+"Been here! Do you mean to say he has come home?"
+
+"He surely started for home. All the generals and a yoke of oxen
+couldn't 'a' kept him in camp, he was so homesick--lovesick too, I
+guess. Powerful compliment to you, Miss Susie," added the politic
+cobbler, feeling his way, "that you could draw a man straight from
+his duty like one of these 'ere stump-extractors."
+
+"No compliment to me at all!" cried the girl, indignantly. "He
+little understands me who seeks my favor by coming home at a time
+like this. The Connecticut women are up in arms at the way our men
+are coming home. No offence to you, Mr. Stokes. You're sick, and
+should come; but I'd like to go myself to show some of the strong
+young fellows what we think of them."
+
+"Coming home was worse than rheumatism to me, and I'm going back
+soon's I kin walk without a cane. Wouldn't 'a' come as 'tis, if
+that Zeb Jarvis hadn't jes' packed me off. By Jocks! I thought you
+and he was acquainted, but you don't seem to ask arter him."
+
+"I felt sure he would try--I heard he was doing his duty," she
+replied with averted face.
+
+"Zeke Watkins says he's no soldier at all--nothing but a dirt-
+digger."
+
+For a moment, as the cobbler had hoped, Susie forgot her blushes
+and secret in her indignation. "Zeke Watkins indeed!" she
+exclaimed. "He'd better not tell ME any such story. I don't
+believe there's a braver, truer man in the--Well," she added in
+sudden confusion, "he hasn't run away and left others to dig their
+way into Boston, if that's the best way of getting there."
+
+"Ah, I'm going to get even with him yet," chuckled Stokes to
+himself. "Digging is only the first step, Miss Susie. When Old Put
+gets good and ready, you'll hear the thunder of the guns a'most in
+Opinquake."
+
+"Well, Mr. Stokes," stammered Susie, resolving desperately on a
+short cut to the knowledge she craved, "you've seen Mr. Jarvis a-
+soldiering. What do you think about it?"
+
+"Well, now, that Zeb Jarvis is the sneakin'ist fellow---"
+
+"What?" cried the girl, her face aflame.
+
+"Wait till I get in a few more pegs," continued Stokes, coolly.
+"The other night he sneaked right into the enemy's lines and
+carried off a British officer as a hawk takes a chicken. The
+Britisher fired his pistol right under Zeb's nose; but, law! he
+didn't mind that any more'n a 'sketer-bite. I call that
+soldiering, don't you? Anyhow, Old Put thought it was, and sent
+for him 'fore daylight, and made a sergeant of him. If I had as
+good a chance of gettin' rid of the rheumatiz as he has of bein'
+captain in six months, I'd thank the Lord."
+
+Susie sat up very straight, and tried to look severely judicial;
+but her lip was quivering and her whole plump little form
+trembling with excitement and emotion. Suddenly she dropped her
+face in her hands and cried in a gust of tears and laughter: "He's
+just like grandfather; he'd face anything!"
+
+"Anything in the 'tarnal universe, I guess, 'cept you, Miss Susie.
+I seed a cannon-ball smash a shovel in his hands, and he got
+another, and went on with his work cool as a cucumber. Then I seed
+him writin' a letter to you, and his hand trembled---"
+
+"A letter to me!" cried the girl, springing up.
+
+"Yes; 'ere it is. I was kind of pegging around till I got to that;
+and you know---"
+
+But Susie was reading, her hands trembling so she could scarcely
+hold the paper. "It's about you," she faltered, making one more
+desperate effort at self-preservation. "He says you'd stay if you
+could; that they almost drove you home. And he asks that I be kind
+to you, because there are not many to care for you--and--and---"
+
+"Oh, Lord! never can get even with that Zeb Jarvis," groaned Ezra.
+"But you needn't tell me that's all the letter's about."
+
+Her eyes were full of tears, yet not so full but that she saw the
+plain, closing words in all their significance. Swiftly the letter
+went to her lips, then was thrust into her bosom, and she seized
+the cobbler's hand, exclaiming: "Yes, I will! I will! You shall
+stay with us, and be one of us!" and in her excitement she put her
+left hand caressingly on his shoulder.
+
+"SUSAN!" exclaimed Mr. Rolliffe, who entered at that moment, and
+looked aghast at the scene.
+
+"Yes, I WILL!" exclaimed Susie, too wrought up now for restraint.
+
+"Will what?" gasped the mother.
+
+"Be Zebulon Jarvis's wife. He's asked me plump and square like a
+soldier; and I'll answer as grandma did, and like grandma I'll
+face anything for his sake."
+
+"WELL, this IS suddent!" exclaimed Mrs. Rolliffe, dropping into a
+chair. "Susan, do you think it is becoming and seemly for a young
+woman---"
+
+"Oh, mother dear, there's no use of your trying to make a prim
+Puritan maiden of me. Zeb doesn't fight like a deacon, and I can't
+love like one. Ha! ha! ha! to think that great soldier is afraid
+of little me, and nothing else! It's too funny and heavenly---"
+
+"Susan, I am dumfounded at your behavior!"
+
+At this moment Mr. Rolliffe came in from the wood-lot, and he was
+dazed by the wonderful news also. In his eagerness to get even
+with Zeb, the cobbler enlarged and expatiated till he was hoarse.
+When he saw that the parents were almost as proud as the daughter
+over their prospective son-in-law, he relapsed into his old
+taciturnity, declaring he had talked enough for a month.
+
+Susie, the only child, who apparently had inherited all the fire
+and spirit of her fighting ancestors, darted out, and soon
+returned with her rosebud of a face enveloped in a great calyx of
+a woollen hood.
+
+"Where are you going?" exclaimed her parents.
+
+"You've had the news. I guess Mother Jarvis has the next right."
+And she was off over the hills with almost the lightness and
+swiftness of a snowbird.
+
+In due time Zeke appeared, and smiled encouragingly on Mrs.
+Rolliffe, who sat knitting by the kitchen fire. The matron did not
+rise, and gave him but a cool salutation. He discussed the
+coldness of the weather awkwardly for a few moments, and then
+ventured: "Is Miss Susan at home?"
+
+"No, sir," replied Mrs. Rolliffe; "she's gone to make a visit to
+her mother-in-law that is to be, the Widow Jarvis. Ezra Stokes is
+sittin' in the next room, sent home sick. Perhaps you'd like to
+talk over camp-life with him."
+
+Not even the cider now sustained Zeke. He looked as if a cannon-
+ball had wrecked all his hopes and plans instead of a shovel.
+"Good-evening, Mrs. Rolliffe," he stammered; "I guess I'll--I'll--
+go home."
+
+Poor Mrs. Jarvis had a spiritual conflict that day which she never
+forgot. Susie's face had flashed at the window near which she had
+sat spinning, and sighing perhaps that Nature had not provided
+feathers or fur for a brood like hers; then the girl's arms were
+about her neck, the news was stammered out--for the letter could
+never be shown to any one--in a way that tore primness to tatters.
+The widow tried to act as if it were a dispensation of Providence
+which should be received in solemn gratitude; but before she knew
+it she was laughing and crying, kissing her sweet-faced daughter,
+or telling how good and brave Zeb had been when his heart was
+almost breaking.
+
+Compunction had already seized upon the widow. "Susan," she began,
+"I fear we are not mortifyin' the flesh as we ought---"
+
+"No mortifying just yet, if you please," cried Susie. "The most
+important thing of all is yet to be done. Zeb hasn't heard the
+news; just think of it! You must write and tell him that I'll help
+you spin the children's clothes and work the farm; that we'll face
+everything in Opinquake as long as Old Put needs men. Where is the
+ink-horn? I'll sharpen a pen for you and one for me, and SUCH news
+as he'll get! Wish I could tell him, though, and see the great
+fellow tremble once more. Afraid of me! Ha! ha! ha! that's the
+funniest thing--Why, Mother Jarvis, this is Christmas Day!"
+
+"So it is," said the widow, in an awed tone. "Susie, my heart
+misgives me that all this should have happened on a day of which
+Popery has made so much."
+
+"No, no," cried the girl. "Thank God it IS Christmas! and
+hereafter I shall keep Christmas as long as love is love and God
+is good."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+JEFF'S TREASURE
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+ITS DISCOVERY
+
+
+Jeff, the hero of my tale, was as truly a part of the Southern
+Confederacy as the greater Jeff at Richmond. Indeed, were it not
+for the humbler Jeff and the class he represented, the other Jeff
+would never have attained his eminence.
+
+Jeff's prospects were as dark as himself. He owned nothing, not
+even himself, yet his dream of riches is the motive of my tale.
+Regarded as a chattel, for whom a bill of sale would have been
+made as readily as for a bullock, he proved himself a man and
+brother by a prompt exhibition of traits too common to human
+nature when chance and some heroism on his part gave into his
+hands the semblance of a fortune.
+
+Jeff was a native Virginian and belonged to an F.F.V. in a certain
+practical, legal sense which thus far had not greatly disturbed
+his equanimity. His solid physique and full shining face showed
+that slavery had brought no horrors into his experience. He had
+indulged, it is true, in vague yearnings for freedom, but these
+had been checked by hearing that liberty meant "working for
+Yankees"--appalling news to an indolent soul. He was house-servant
+and man-of-all-work in a family whose means had always been
+limited, and whose men were in the Confederate army. His "missus"
+evinced a sort of weary content when he had been scolded or
+threatened into the completion of his tasks by nightfall. He then
+gave her and her daughters some compensation for their trials with
+him by producing his fiddle and making the warm summer evening
+resonant with a kind of music which the negro only can evoke. Jeff
+was an artist, and had a complacent consciousness of the fact. He
+was a living instance of the truth that artists are born, not
+made. No knowledge of this gifted class had ever suggested
+kinship; he did not even know what the word meant, but when his
+cheek rested lovingly against his violin he felt that he was made
+of different clay from other "niggahs." During the day he indulged
+in moods by the divine right and impulse of genius, imitating his
+gifted brothers unconsciously. In waiting on the table, washing
+dishes, and hoeing the garden, he was as great a laggard as
+Pegasus would have been if compelled to the labors of a cart-
+horse; but when night came, and uncongenial toil was over, his
+soul expanded. His corrugated brow unwrinkled itself; his great
+black fingers flew back and forth over the strings as if driven by
+electricity; and electric in effect were the sounds produced by
+his swiftly-glancing bow.
+
+While the spirit of music so filled his heart that he could play
+to the moon and silent stars, an audience inspired him with
+tenfold power, especially if the floor was cleared or a smooth
+sward selected for a dance. Rarely did he play long before all who
+could trip a measure were on their feet, while even the
+superannuated nodded and kept time, sighing that they were old.
+His services naturally came into great demand, and he was catholic
+in granting them--his mistress in good-natured tolerance acceding
+to requests which promised many forgetful hours at a time when the
+land was shadowed by war. So it happened that Jeff was often at
+the more pretending residences of the neighborhood, sometimes
+fiddling in the detached kitchen of a Southern mansion to the
+shuffle of heavy feet, again in the lighted parlor, especially
+when Confederate troops were quartered near. It was then that his
+strains took on their most inspiring and elevated character. He
+gave wings to the dark-eyed Southern girls; their feet scarcely
+touched the floor as they whirled with their cavaliers in gray, or
+threaded the mazes of the cotillon then and there in vogue.
+
+Nor did he disdain an invitation to a crossroads tavern,
+frequented by poor whites and enlisted men, or when the nights
+were warm, to a moonlit sward, on which he would invite his
+audience to a reel which left all breathless. While there was a
+rollicking element in the strains of his fiddle which a deacon
+could not resist, he, with the intuition of genius, adapted
+himself to the class before him. In the parlor, he called off the
+figures of a quadrille with a "by-yer-leave-sah" air, selecting,
+as a rule, the highest class of music that had blessed his ears,
+for he was ear-taught only. He would hold a half-washed dish
+suspended minutes at a time while listening to one "ob de young
+missys at de pianny. Dat's de way I'se pick up my most scrumptious
+pieces. Dey cyant play nuffin in de daytime dat I cyant 'prove on
+in de ebenin';" and his vanity did not lead him much astray. But
+when with those of his own color, or with the humbler classes, he
+gave them the musical vernacular of the region--rude traditional
+quicksteps and songs, strung together with such variations of his
+own as made him the envy and despair of all other fiddlers in the
+vicinity. Indeed, he could rarely get away from a great house
+without a sample of his powers in this direction, and then
+blending with the rhythmical cadence of feet, the rustle of
+garments, would be evoked ripples of mirth and bursts of laughter
+that were echoed back from the dim pine-groves without. Finally,
+when with his great foot beating time on the floor and every
+muscle of his body in motion, he ended with an original
+arrangement of "Dixie," the eyes of the gentlest maiden would
+flash as she joined the chorus of the men in gray, who were
+scarcely less excited for the moment than they would have been in
+a headlong cavalry charge.
+
+These were moments of glory for Jeff. In fact, on all similar
+occasions he had a consciousness of his power; he made the slave
+forget his bondage, the poor whites their poverty, maidens the
+absence of their fathers, brothers, and lovers, and the soldier
+the chances against his return.
+
+At last there came a summer day when other music than that of
+Jeff's fiddle resounded through that region. Two armies met and
+grappled through the long sultry hours. Every moment death wounds
+were given and received, for thick as insects in woods, grove, and
+thicket, bullets whizzed on their fatal mission; while from every
+eminence the demoniacal shells shrieked in exultation over the
+havoc they wrought.
+
+Jeff's home was on the edge of the battlefield, and as he trembled
+in the darkest corner of the cellar, he thought, "Dis yer beats
+all de thunder-gusts I eber heered crack, run togedder in one big
+hurricane."
+
+With the night came silence, except as it was broken by the groans
+and cries of wounded men; and later the contending forces
+departed, having accorded to the fallen such poor burial as was
+given them when life was cheap and death the chief harvester in
+Virginia.
+
+For a day or two Jeff's conscience was active, and the memory of
+the resolutions inspired by the din of war gave to his thin visage
+a preternatural seriousness. Dishes were washed in such brief time
+and so thoroughly, and such havoc made in the garden-weeds that
+the world might make a note of Jeff's idea of reform (to its
+advantage). In the evening his fiddle wailed out psalm-tunes to
+the entire exclusion of its former carnal strains.
+
+It must be admitted, however, that Jeff's grace was like the early
+dew. On the third evening, "Ole Dan Tucker" slipped in among the
+hymns, and these were played in a time scarcely befitting their
+character. Then came a bit of news that awakened a wholly
+different train of thought and desire. A colored boy, more
+venturous than himself, was said to have picked up some "Linkum"
+money on the battlefield. This information shed on the wild wooded
+tract where the war trumpet had raged the most fiercely a light
+more golden than that of the moon then at its full; and Jeff
+resolved that with the coming night he also would explore a region
+which, nevertheless, had nameless terrors for him.
+
+"Ef dere's spooks anywhere dey's dereaway," he muttered over his
+hoe; "but den, ki! dey woan 'fere wid dis yer niggah. What hab
+I'se got ter do wid de wah and de fighten an de jabbin'? De spooks
+cyant lay nuffin ter me eben ef ole marse an' de res' am a-fighten
+ter keep dere slabes, as folks say."
+
+Having thus satisfied himself that the manes of the dead thousands
+could have no controversy with him, Jeff mustered sufficient
+resolution to visit the field that night. He took no one into his
+confidence, fearing if he discovered treasures of any kind he
+could not be left in undisturbed possession. During the day the
+rudiments of imagination which made him a musician had been
+conjuring up the possible results of his expedition.
+
+"De ting fer dis cullud pusson ter do is ter p'ramberlate ter de
+Linkum lines. Ki! I doan wan' what drap outen OUR sogers' pockets.
+I kin git Virginny leaf widouten runnin' 'mong de spooks arter it.
+De place fer a big fine is whar de brush is tick and de Linkum men
+crawl away so dey woan be tromp on. Who knows but I kin fine a
+place whar a ginral hide hisself? Ob cose if he hab a lot of gole
+he'd stick it in de bush or kiver it right smart, so dat oders
+moutn't get it foh he could helf hisself."
+
+Jeff thought he had reasoned himself into such a valorous state
+that he could walk across the deserted battlefield with
+nonchalance; but as he entered on a deeply shadowed dirt-road long
+since disused to any extent, he found strange creeping sensations
+running up and down his back. The moonlight filtered through the
+leaves with fantastic effects. A young silver poplar looked
+ghastly in the distance; and now and then a tree out off by a shot
+looked almost human in its mutilation.
+
+He had not gone very far before he saw what appeared to be the
+body of a man lying across the road. With a sudden chill of blood
+he stopped and stared at the object. Gradually it resolved itself
+into a low mound in the dim light. Approaching cautiously, he
+discovered with a dull sense of horror that a soldier had been
+buried where he had fallen, but covered so slightly that the
+tumulus scarcely more than outlined his form.
+
+"Ob cose I knowed I d hab ter see dese tings foh I started. What I
+such a fool fer? De Feds nor de Yanks am' a-gwine ter bodder me if
+I am' steppin' on 'em or ober 'em." And he went scrupulously on
+the other side of the road.
+
+By and by, however, he came to a part of the wood-lane where men
+had fallen by the score, and bodies had been covered in twos,
+threes, and dozens. His head felt as if his very wool were
+straightening itself out, as he wound here and there and zigzagged
+in all directions lest he should step on or over a grave. A breeze
+stirred the forest as if all the thousands buried in its shades
+had heaved a long deep sigh. With chattering teeth Jeff stopped to
+listen, then, reassured, continued to pick his tortuous way.
+Suddenly there was an ominous rustling in a thicket just behind.
+He broke into a headlong flight across and over everything, when
+the startled grunt of a hog revealed the prosaic nature of this
+spook. Scarcely any other sound could have been more reassuring.
+The animal suggested bacon and hominy and hoe-cake, everything
+except the ghostly. He berated himself angrily:
+
+"Ki! you niggah! dat ar hog got mo' co'age dan you. He know he hab
+nuffin mo' ter do wid de spooks dan you hab. De run ain' far, and
+when I gits ober dat de spooks on de side dis way cyant cross
+arter me;" and he hastened toward the spot where he supposed the
+Federals had been massed the most heavily, crossing an open field
+and splashing through a shallow place in the river, that their
+ghost-ships might be reminded of running water.
+
+On the further slope were the same sad evidences of poor
+mortality, graves here and there and often all too shallow, broken
+muskets, bullet perforated canteens and torn knapsacks--the debris
+of a pitched battle. Many trees and shrubs were so lacerated that
+their foliage hung limp and wilting, while boughs with shrivelled
+leaves strewed the ground. Nature's wounds indicated that men had
+fought here and been mutilated as ruthlessly.
+
+For a time nothing of value rewarded Jeff's search, and he began
+to succumb to the grewsome associations of the place. At last he
+resolved to examine one more thicket that bordered an old rail-
+fence, and then make a long detour rather than go back by the
+graveyard road over which he had come. Pushing the bushes aside,
+he peered among their shadows for some moments, and then uttered
+an exclamation of surprise and terror as he bounded backward.
+There was no mistake this time; he had seen the figure of a man
+with a ray of moonlight filtering through the leaves on a ghastly
+bullet-hole in his temple. He sat with his back against the fence,
+and had not moved after receiving the shock. At his feet, dropped
+evidently from his nerveless hand, lay a metal box. All had
+flashed almost instantaneously on Jeff's vision.
+
+For some moments he was in doubt whether to take to his heels
+homeward or reconnoitre again. The soldier sat in such a lifelike
+attitude that while Jeff knew the man must be dead, taking the box
+seemed like robbing the living. Yes, worse than that, for, to the
+superstitious negro, the dead soldier appeared to be watching his
+treasure.
+
+Jeff's cupidity slowly mastered his fears. Cautiously approaching
+the figure, he again pushed aside the screening boughs, and with
+chattering teeth and trembling limbs, looked upon the silent
+guardian of the treasure, half expecting the dead man to raise his
+head, and warn him off with a threatening gesture. Since the
+figure remained motionless, Jeff made a headlong plunge, clutched
+the box, then ran half a mile without thinking to look back.
+
+Not for his life would he cross the battlefield again; so it was
+late when by wide circuit he approached the dwelling of his
+mistress. His panic had gradually subsided, and as he noted
+familiar objects, he felt that he was beyond the proper range of
+the unjust spirits of the dead.
+
+The soldier he had left sitting against the fence troubled him, it
+is true; and he was not quite sure that he was through with one so
+palpably robbed. That he had not been followed appeared certain;
+that the question of future ownership of the treasure could be
+settled was a matter of superstitious belief. There was only one
+way--he must hide the box in a secret nook, and if it remained
+undisturbed for a reasonable length of time, he might hope for its
+undisturbed enjoyment. Accordingly he stole into a dense copse and
+buried his booty at the foot of a persimmon-tree, then gained his
+humble quarter and slept so late and soundly that he had to be
+dragged almost without the door the next morning before he shook
+off his lethargy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+ITS INFLUENCE
+
+
+With the exception of aptitude which enabled Jeff to catch and fix
+a tune in his mind with a fair degree of correctness, his mental
+processes were slow. Moreover, whether he should ever have any
+trouble with "spooks" or not, one thing was true of him, as of
+many others in all stations of life, he was haunted by the ghost
+of a conscience. This uneasy spirit suggested to him with annoying
+iteration that his proceedings the night before had been of very
+unusual and doubtful character. When at last fully awake, he
+sought to appease the accusing voice by unwonted diligence in all
+his tasks, until the fat cook, a devout Baptist, took more than
+one occasion to say, "You'se in a promisin' frame, Jeff. Ef I'se
+ony shoah dat yer hole out long anuff ter get 'mersed, I'd hab
+hopes on yer, but, law! yer'll be a-fiddlin' de debil's tunes 'fo'
+de week is out. I'se afeared dat dere must be an awful prov'dence,
+like a battle or harricane, onst a week, ter keep yer ser'ous;"
+and the old woman sniffed down at him with ill-concealed disdain
+from her superior spiritual height.
+
+Jeff was as serious as could have been wished all that day, for
+there was much on his mind. Perplexing questions tinged with
+supernatural terrors tormented him. Passing over those having a
+moral point, the most urgent one was, "S'pose dat ar soger miss
+him box an come arter it ternight. Ki! If I go ter see, I mout run
+right on ter de spook. I'se a-gwine ter gib 'im his chance, an'
+den take mine." So that evening Jeff fortified himself and
+increased the cook's hope by a succession of psalm-tunes in which
+there was no lapse toward the "debil's" music.
+
+Next morning, after a long sleep, Jeff's nerves were stronger, and
+he began to take a high hand with conscience.
+
+"Dat ar soger has hab his chance," he reasoned. "Ef he want de box
+he mus' 'a' com arter it las' night. I'se done bin fa'r wid him,
+an' now ter-night, ef dat ar box ain' 'sturbed, I'se a-gwine ter
+see de 'scription an' heft on it. Toder night I was so 'fuscated
+dat I couldn't know nuffin straight."
+
+When all were sleeping, he stole to the persimmon-tree and was
+elated to find his treasure where he had slightly buried it. The
+little box seemed heavy, and was wholly unlike anything he ever
+seen before.
+
+"Ob cose it's got money in it," Jeff reasoned. "Nuffin else 'ud be
+done up to tight and strong. I'se woan open it jes' yet, feared de
+missus or de colored boys 'spec' someting. Ki! I isn't a-gwine ter
+be tied up, an' hab dat box whip out in me. I'll tink how I kin
+hide an' spen' de money kine of slowcution like." With this he
+restored the prize to its shallow excavation and covered it with
+leaves that no trace of fresh earth might be visible.
+
+Jeff's deportment now began to evince a new evolution in mental
+and moral process. The influence of riches was quite as marked
+upon him as upon so many of his white brothers and sisters,
+proving their essential kinship. To-day he began to sniff
+disdainfully at his menial tasks; and in the evening "Ole Dan
+Tucker" resounded from his fiddle with a rollicking abandon over
+which the cook groaned in despair, "Dat ar niggah's 'ligion drop
+off ob 'im like a yaller pig from de bush. 'Ligion dat's skeert
+inter us hain't no 'count anyhow."
+
+During the next few days it was evident that Jeff was falling from
+grace rapidly. Never had he been so slow and careless in his
+tasks. More than once the thought crossed his mind that he had
+better take his box and "cut stick" for Washington, where he
+believed that wealth and his fiddle would give him prominence over
+his race. For prudential and other reasons he was in no haste to
+open the box, preferring rather to gloat over it and to think how
+he could spend the money to the greatest advantage. He had been
+paying his court to a girl as black as himself on a neighboring
+plantation; but he now regarded that affair as preposterous.
+
+"She ain' good nuff fer me no mo'," he reasoned. "I'se a-gwine ter
+shine up ter dat yeller Suky dat's been a-holdin' her head so high
+ober ter Marse Perkins's. I'se invited ter play ober dar ter-
+night, an' I'll make dat gal open her eye. Ki! she tinks no culled
+gemmen in dese parts fit ter hole a cannle when she braid her long
+straight ha'r, but when she see de ribbin I kin git her ter tie
+dat ha'r up wid, an' de earrings I kin put in her ears, she larf
+on toder side ob her face. 'Fo' I go I'se a-gwine ter buy dat ar
+gole ring ob Sam Milkins down at de tavern. S'pose it does take
+all I'se been sabin' up, I'se needn't sabe any mo'. Dat ar box got
+nuff in it ter keep me like a lawd de rest ob my life. I'd open it
+ter-night if I wasn't goin' ter Marse Perkins's."
+
+Jeff carried out his high-handed measures and appeared that
+evening at "Marse Perkins's" with a ring of portentous size
+squeezed on the little finger of his left hand. It had something
+of the color of gold, and that is the best that can be said of it;
+but it had left its purchaser penniless. This fact sat lightly on
+Jeff's mind, however, as he remembered the box at the foot of the
+persimmon-tree; and he stalked into the detached kitchen, where a
+dusky assemblage were to indulge in a shuffle, with the air of one
+who intends that his superiority shall be recognized at once.
+
+"Law sakes, Jeff!" said Mandy, his hitherto ebon flame, "yer comes
+in like a turkey gobbler. Doesn't yer know me?"
+
+"Sartin I know yer, Mandy. You'se a good gal in you'se way, but,
+law! you'se had yer spell. A culled gemmen kin change his min'
+when he sees dat de 'finity's done gone."
+
+"Look here, Jeff Wobbles, does yer mean ter give me de sack?"
+
+"I mean ter gib yer good-ebenin', Miss Mandy Munson. Yer kyant
+'spec' a gemmen to be degaged in de music an' a gal at de same
+time," replied Jeff, with oppressive gravity.
+
+"Mister Johnsing, I'se tank yer fo' yer arm," said Mandy to a man
+near, with responsive dignity. "Yer wait on me here, an' yer kin
+wait on me home. I'se 'shamed on mysef dat I took up wid a lout
+dat kin do nuffin but fiddle; but I was kine ob sorry fer him, he
+sich a fool."
+
+"Go 'long," remarked Jeff, smiling mysteriously. "Ef yer knowed,
+yer 'ud be wringin' yer han's wuss dan yer did at de las' 'tracted
+meetin'. Ah, Miss Suky, dat you?" and Jeff for the first time
+doffed his hat.
+
+"Wat's in de win', Jeff, dat yer so scrumptious an' bumptious like
+dis ebenin'?" Suky asked a trifle scornfully.
+
+"Wen de 'freshments parse 'roun', I'se 'steem it a oblergation ter
+me ef yer'll let me bring yer de cake an' cider. I'se sumpin fer
+yer. Gemmen an' ladies, took yer places," he added in a stentorian
+voice; "I ax yer' sideration fer bein' late, cose I had 'portant
+business; now,
+
+  "Bow dar, scrape dar;
+  Doan hang about de doah.
+  Shine up ter de pretty gals,
+  An' lead 'em on de floah"--
+
+his fiddle seconding his exhortation with such inciting strains
+that soon there was not a foot but was keeping time.
+
+Suky observed that the musician had eyes for her only, and that
+toward all others he maintained his depressing superiority. In
+vain did Mandy lavish tokens of favor on "Mister Johnsing." Jeff
+did not lose his sudden and unexpected indifference; while the
+great ring glistening on his finger added to the mystery. There
+were many whispered surmises; but gradually the conjecture that he
+had "foun' a heap ob Linkum money" was regarded as the best
+explanation of the marked change in his bearing.
+
+Curiosity soon became more potent than Jeff's fiddle, and the
+"'freshments" were hurried up. So far from resenting this, Jeff
+put his violin under his arm and stalked across the improvised
+ball-room to Miss Suky, oblivious of the fact that she had a
+suitor on either side.
+
+"Gemmen," he remarked with condescension, "dis lady am degaged ter
+me durin' de 'freshments period,'" and he held out his arm in such
+a way that the massive ring glittered almost under Suky's nose.
+The magnet drew. His arm was taken in spite of the protests of the
+enamored swains.
+
+"Permit me de suggestation," continued Jeff, "dat ter a lady ob
+yer 'finement, dis place am not fit ter breve in. Wha's mo', I
+doan 'cline ter hab dese yer common niggahs a-whisperin' an' a-
+pintin' an' a-'jecturin' about us. Lemme yet yer a seat under de
+lite ob de risin' moon. De dusk'll obscuate yer loveleness so I'se
+dar' tell all de news."
+
+Suky, mystified and expectant, but complacent over another
+conquest, made no objections to these whispered "suggestations,"
+and was led to a seat under the shadow of a tree. A chorus of not
+very flattering remarks broke out, ceasing as suddenly when Jeff
+returned for a portion of the cake and cider.
+
+"Mister Wobbles, yer's prettin' on high de airs ter-night," Suky
+remarked, with an interrogation point in her voice.
+
+"Here's ter de health ob Mrs. Wobbles," he answered, lifting the
+cider to his lips.
+
+"I'se no 'jections ter dat. Who is she ter be?" replied Suky, very
+innocently.
+
+"It's not my 'tention ter go furder and far' wuss. Dis am a case
+wha de presen' company am not 'cepted."
+
+"No, not axcepted jes' yet, Mr. Wobbles, if yer'se 'dressin' yer
+remarks ter me. Yer is goin' on jes' a little too far."
+
+"P'raps a little far; but yer'll soon catch up wid me. Yer'se a
+lady dat got a min' ob her own, I hope?"
+
+"It's mine yet, anyhow."
+
+"An' yer kin keep as mum as a possum w'en de cawn is in de milk?"
+
+"Dat 'pends."
+
+"Ob cose it does. But I'll trus' yer; yer ain' de one ter bite yer
+own nose off. Does yer see dat ar ring, Suky? Law! how pretty dat
+look on yer degaged finger!"
+
+"'Tain' dar yet."
+
+"Lemme put it dar. Ki! wouldn't dey look an' gape an' pint in dar
+yonder w'en yer come a-sailin' in wid dat ring on?"
+
+"Yes; dey tink me a big fool ter be captivated by a ring--brass,
+too, like anuff."
+
+"No, Suky, it's gole--yallow gole, di 'plexion ob yer own fair
+han'. But, law! dis ain' nuffin ter what I'se 'll git yer. Yer'se
+shall hab rings an' dresses an' jules till yer 'stinguish de oder
+gals like de sun put out de stars."
+
+"What yer foun', Jeff Wobbles?"
+
+"I'se foun' what'll make yer a lady if yer hab sense. I'se gib yer
+de compliment ob s'lecting yer ter shar' my fine if yer'll lemme
+put dis ring on yer degaged finger."
+
+"Yer doan say nuffin 'bout lub in dis yer 'rangement," Suky
+simpered, sidling up to him.
+
+"Oh, dat kind ob sent'ment 'll do fer common niggahs," Jeff
+explained with dignity. "I'se hurd my missus talk 'bout 'liances
+'twixt people of quality. Ki! Suky, I'se in a'sition now ter make
+a 'liance wid yer. Yer ain' like dat low gal, Mandy. What Mister
+Johnsing ebber hab ter gib her but a lickin' some day? I'se done
+wid dat common class; I may fiddle fur 'em now an' den, jes' ter
+see dem sport deysefs, while I'se lookin' on kin' ob s'periur
+like, yer know. But den, dey ain' our kin' ob folks. Yer'se got
+qulities dat'll shine like de risin' moon dar." Then in a whisper
+he added, "De Linkum sogers is off dar ter the east'erd. One
+night's trabel an' dey'd sen' us on ter Washin'on. Onst yer git
+dar, an' hab all de jules an' dresses dat I gib yer, dar's not a
+culled gemmen dereaway but 'ud bow down ter yer."
+
+Here was a dazzling vista that Suky could not resist. Her ideas of
+freedom, like those of Jeff, were not very exalted. At that
+period, slave property in the vicinity of the Union lines was fast
+melting away; and scarcely a night elapsed but some one was
+missing, the more adventurous and intelligent escaping first, and
+others following as opportunity and motive pointed the way. The
+region under consideration had not yet been occupied by the
+Federals, and there was still no slight risk involved in flight.
+Suky did not realize the magnitude of the project. She was not the
+first of her sex to be persuaded by a cavalier and promised gold
+to take a leap into the dark.
+
+As a result of Jeff's representations the "'liance" was made there
+and then, secrecy promised, and an escape to Washington agreed
+upon as soon as circumstances permitted--Suky's mind, I regret to
+say, dwelling more on "gemmen bowing down" to her than on the
+devotion of the allied suitor.
+
+No lady of rank in Timbuctoo could have sailed into the kitchen
+ball-room with greater state than Suky now after the compact had
+been made, Jeff supporting her on his arm with the conscious air
+of one who has taken the prize from all competitors. With the
+assurance of a potentate he ensconced himself in the orchestra
+corner and called the dancers to their feet.
+
+But the spirit of mutiny was present. Eager eyes noted that the
+ring on his bow-hand was gone. Then it was seen glistening on
+Suky's hand as she ostentatiously fanned herself. The clamor broke
+out, "Mister Johnsing," incited by Mandy and the two swains
+between whom Suky had been sandwiched, leading the revolt against
+Jeff's arrogance and success.
+
+There were many, however, who had no personal wrongs to right, and
+who did not relish being made a cat's-paw by the disaffected.
+These were bent on the natural progression and conclusion of the
+dance. In consequence of the wordy uproar the master of the
+premises appeared and cleared them all out, sending his own
+servants to their quarters.
+
+Jeff nearly came to grief that night, for a party of the
+malcontents followed him on his homeward walk. Suspecting their
+purpose, he dodged behind some shrubbery, heard their threats to
+break his head and smash his fiddle, and then went back to a tryst
+with Suky.
+
+That sagacious damsel had been meditating on the proposed
+alliance. Even in her rather sophisticated mind she had regarded a
+semblance of love as essential; but since Jeff had put everything
+on such superior grounds, she felt that she should prove herself
+fit for new and exalted conditions of life by seeing to it that he
+made good all his remarkable promises. She remembered that he had
+not yet opened the box of money, and became a little sceptical as
+to its contents. Somebody might have watched Jeff, and have
+carried it off.
+
+True, she had the ring, but that was not the price of her hand.
+Nothing less than had been promised would answer now; and when she
+stole out to meet Jeff she told him so. Under the witching
+moonlight he began to manifest tendencies to sentiment and
+tenderness. Her response was prompt: "Go 'long! what dese common
+niggah ways got ter do wid a 'liance? Yer show me de gole in dat
+box--dat's de bargain. Den de 'liance hole me fas', an' I'll help
+yer spen' de money in Washin'on. We'll hab a weddin' scrumptious
+as white folks. But, law sakes! Jeff Wobbles, 't ain' no kin' ob
+'liance till I see dat gole an' hab some ob it too!"
+
+Jeff had to succumb like many a higher-born suitor before him,
+with the added chagrin of remembering that he had first suggested
+the purely businesslike aspect of his motive.
+
+"Berry well; meet me here ter-morrer night when I whistle like a
+whip-o'-will. But yer ain' so smart as yer tink yer are, Suky.
+Yer'se made it cl'ar ter me dat I'se got ter keep de han'lin' ob
+dat gole or you'll be a-carryin' dis 'liance business too far! If
+I gib yer gole, I expec' yer ter shine up an be 'greeable-like ter
+me ebbery way yer know how. Dat's only fa'r, doggoned ef it ain'!"
+and Jeff spoke in a very aggrieved tone.
+
+Wily Suky chucked him under the chin, saying: "Show me de color ob
+de gole an' de 'liance come out all right." Then she retired,
+believing that negotiations had proceeded far enough for the
+present.
+
+Jeff went home feeling that he had been forewarned and forearmed.
+Since her heart responded to a golden key only, he would keep that
+key and use it judiciously.
+
+During the early hours of the following night Jeff was very wary
+and soon discovered that he was watched. He coolly slipped the
+collar from a savage dog, and soon there was a stampede from a
+neighboring grove. An hour after, when all had become quiet again,
+he took the dog and, armed with an axe, started out, fully
+resolved on breaking the treasure-box which he had been hoarding.
+
+The late moon had risen, giving to Jeff a gnome-like aspect as he
+dug at the root of the persimmon-tree. The mysterious box soon
+gleamed with a pale light in his hand, like the leaden casket that
+contained Portia's radiant face. Surely, when he struck the "open
+sesame" blow, that beauty which captivates young and old alike
+would dazzle his eyes. With heart now devoid of all compunction,
+and exultant in anticipation, he struck the box, shaving off the
+end he held furthest from him. An "ancient fish-like smell" filled
+the air; Jeff sank on the ground and stared at sardines and rancid
+oil dropping instead of golden dollars from his treasure-box. They
+scarcely touched the ground before the dog snapped them all up.
+
+The bewildered negro knew not what to think. Had fish been the
+original contents of the box, or had the soldier's spook
+transformed the gold into this horrid mess? One thing, however,
+was clear--he had lost, not only Suky, but prestige. The yellow
+girl would scorn him, and tell of his preposterous promises. Mandy
+had been offended beyond hope, and he would become the laughing-
+stock and byword of all the colored boys for miles around.
+
+"Dar's nuffin lef fer me but ter put out fer freedom," he
+soliloquized; "ki! I'se a-gwine ter git eben wid dat yallar gal
+yet. I'll cut stick ter-morrer night and she'll tink I 'sconded
+alone, totin' de box wid me, and dat she was too sharp in dat
+'liance business."
+
+So it turned out; Jeff and his fiddle vanished, leaving nothing to
+sustain Suky under the gibes of her associates except the ring,
+which she eventually learned was as brazen as her own ambition.
+
+Jeff wandered into the service of a Union officer whose patience
+he tried even more than that of his tolerant Southern mistress;
+but when by the camp-fire he brought out his violin, all his
+shortcomings were condoned.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CAUGHT ON THE EBB-TIDE
+
+
+The August morning was bright and fair, but Herbert Scofield's
+brow was clouded. He had wandered off to a remote part of the
+grounds of a summer hotel on the Hudson, and seated in the shade
+of a tree, had lapsed into such deep thought that his cigar had
+gone out and the birds were becoming bold in the vicinity of his
+motionless figure.
+
+It was his vacation time and he had come to the country ostensibly
+for rest. As the result, he found himself in the worst state of
+unrest that he had ever known. Minnie Madison, a young lady he had
+long admired, was the magnet that had drawn him hither. Her
+arrival had preceded his by several weeks; and she had smiled a
+little consciously when in looking at the hotel register late one
+afternoon his bold chirography met her eye.
+
+"There are so many other places to which he might have gone," she
+murmured.
+
+Her smile, however, was a doubtful one, not expressive of gladness
+and entire satisfaction. In mirthful, saucy fashion her thoughts
+ran on: "The time has come when he might have a respite from
+business. Does he still mean business by coming here? I'm not sure
+that I do, although the popular idea seems to be that a girl
+should have no vacation in the daily effort to find a husband. I
+continually disappoint the good people by insisting that the
+husband must find me. I have a presentiment that Mr. Scofield is
+looking for me; but there are some kinds of property which cannot
+be picked up and carried off, nolens volens, when found."
+
+Scofield had been animated by no such clearly defined purpose as
+he was credited with when he sought the summer resort graced by
+Miss Madison. His action seemed to him tentative, his motive ill-
+defined even in his own consciousness, yet it had been strong
+enough to prevent any hesitancy. He knew he was weary from a long
+year's work. He purposed to rest and take life very leisurely, and
+he had mentally congratulated himself that he was doing a wise
+thing in securing proximity to Miss Madison. She had evoked his
+admiration in New York, excited more than a passing interest, but
+he felt that he did not know her very well. In the unconventional
+life now in prospect he could see her daily and permit his
+interest to be dissipated or deepened, as the case might be, while
+he remained, in the strictest sense of the world, uncommitted. It
+was a very prudent scheme and not a bad one. He reasoned justly:
+"This selecting a wife is no bagatelle. A man wishes to know
+something more about a woman than he can learn in a drawing-room
+or at a theatre party."
+
+But now he was in trouble. He had been unable to maintain this
+judicial aspect. He had been made to understand at the outset that
+Miss Madison did not regard herself as a proper subject for
+deliberate investigation, and that she was not inclined to aid in
+his researches. So far from meeting him with engaging frankness
+and revealing her innermost soul for his inspection, he found her
+as elusive as only a woman of tact can be when so minded, even at
+a place where people meet daily. It was plain to him from the
+first that he was not the only man who favored her with admiring
+glances; and he soon discovered that young Merriweather and his
+friend Hackley had passed beyond the neutral ground of non-
+committal. He set himself the task of learning how far these
+suitors had progressed in her good graces; he would not be guilty
+of the folly of giving chase to a prize already virtually
+captured. This too had proved a failure. Clearly, would he know
+what Mr. Merriweather and Mr. Hackley were to Miss Madison he must
+acquire the power of mind reading. Each certainly appeared to be a
+very good friend of hers--a much better friend than he could claim
+to be, for in his case she maintained a certain unapproachableness
+which perplexed and nettled him.
+
+After a week of rest, observation, and rather futile effort to
+secure a reasonable share of Miss Madison's society and attention,
+he became assured that he was making no progress whatever so far
+as she was concerned, but very decided progress in a condition of
+mind and heart anything but agreeable should the affair continue
+so one-sided. He had hoped to see her daily, and was not
+disappointed. He had intended to permit his mind to receive such
+impressions as he should choose; and now his mind asked no
+permission whatever, but without volition occupied itself with her
+image perpetually. He was not sure whether she satisfied his
+preconceived ideals of what a wife should be or not, for she
+maintained such a firm reticence in regard to herself that he
+could put his finger on no affinities. She left no doubt as to her
+intelligence, but beyond that she would not reveal herself to him.
+He was almost satisfied that she discouraged him utterly and that
+it would be wiser to depart before his feelings became more deeply
+involved. At any rate he had better do this or else make love in
+dead earnest. Which course should he adopt?
+
+There came a day which brought him to a decision.
+
+A party had been made up for an excursion into the Highlands, Miss
+Madison being one of the number. She was a good pedestrian and
+rarely missed a chance for a ramble among the hills. Scofield's
+two rivals occasionally got astray with her in the perplexing
+wood-roads, but he never succeeded in securing such good-fortune.
+On this occasion, as they approached a woodchopper's cottage (or
+rather, hovel), there were sounds of acute distress within--the
+piercing cries of a child evidently in great pain. There was a
+moment of hesitancy in the party, and then Miss Madison's graceful
+indifference vanished utterly. As she ran hastily to the cabin,
+Scofield felt that now probably was a chance for more than mere
+observation, and he kept beside her. An ugly cur sought to bar
+entrance; but his vigorous kick sent it howling away. She gave him
+a quick pleased look as they entered. A slatternly woman was
+trying to soothe a little boy, who at all her attempts only
+writhed and shrieked the more. "I dunno what ails the young one,"
+she said. "I found him a moment ago yellin' at the foot of a tree.
+Suthin's the matter with his leg."
+
+"Yes," cried Miss Madison, delicately feeling of the member--an
+operation which, even under her gentle touch, caused increased
+outcry, "it is evidently broken. Let me take him on my lap;" and
+Scofield saw that her face had softened into the tenderest pity.
+
+"I will bring a surgeon at the earliest possible moment,"
+exclaimed Scofield, turning to go.
+
+Again she gave him an approving glance which warmed his heart.
+"The ice is broken between us now," he thought, as he broke
+through the group gathering at the open door.
+
+Never before had he made such time down a mountain, for he had a
+certain kind of consciousness that he was not only going after the
+doctor, but also after the girl. Securing a stout horse and wagon
+at the hotel, he drove furiously for the surgeon, explained the
+urgency, and then, with the rural healer at his side, almost
+killed the horse in returning.
+
+He found his two rivals at the cabin door, the rest of the party
+having gone on. Miss Madison came out quickly. An evanescent smile
+flitted across her face as she saw his kindled eyes and the
+reeking horse, which stood trembling and with bowed head. His
+ardor was a little dampened when she went directly to the poor
+beast and said, "This horse is a rather severe indictment against
+you, Mr. Scofield. There was need of haste, but--" and she paused
+significantly.
+
+"Yes," added the doctor, springing out, "I never saw such driving!
+It's lucky our necks are not broken"
+
+"You are all right, Doctor, and ready for your work," Scofield
+remarked brusquely. "As for the horse, I'll soon bring him
+around;" and he rapidly began to unhitch the over-driven animal.
+
+"What are you going to do?" Miss Madison asked curiously.
+
+"Rub him into as good shape as when he started."
+
+She turned away to hide a smile as she thought, "He has waked up
+at last."
+
+The boy was rendered unconscious, and his leg speedily put in the
+way of restoration. "He will do very well now if my directions are
+carried out strictly," the physician was saying when Scofield
+entered.
+
+Mr. Merriweather and Mr. Hackley stood rather helplessly in the
+background and were evidently giving more thought to the fair
+nurse than to the patient. The mother was alternating between
+lamentations and invocations of good on the "young leddy's" head.
+Finding that he would come in for a share of the latter, Scofield
+retreated again. Miss Madison walked quietly out, and looking
+critically at the horse, remarked, "You have kept your word very
+well, Mr. Scofield. The poor creature does look much improved."
+She evidently intended to continue her walk with the two men in
+waiting, for she said demurely with an air of dismissal, "You will
+have the happy consciousness of having done a good deed this
+morning."
+
+"Yes," replied Scofield, in significant undertone; "you, of all
+others, Miss Madison, know how inordinately happy I shall be in
+riding back to the village with the doctor."
+
+She raised her eyebrows in a little well-feigned surprise at his
+words, then turned away.
+
+During the remainder of the day he was unable to see her alone for
+a moment, or to obtain any further reason to believe that the ice
+was in reality broken between them. But his course was no longer
+noncommittal, even to the most careless observer. The other guests
+of the house smiled; and Mr. Merriweather and Mr. Hackley looked
+askance at one who threw their assiduous attentions quite into the
+shade. Miss Madison maintained her composure, was oblivious as far
+as possible, and sometimes when she could not appear blind, looked
+a little surprised and even offended.
+
+He had determined to cast prudence and circumlocution to the
+winds. On the morning following the episode in the mountains he
+was waiting to meet her when she came down to breakfast. "I've
+seen that boy, Miss Madison, and he's doing well."
+
+"What! so early? You are a very kind-hearted man, Mr. Scofield."
+
+"About as they average. That you are kind-hearted I know--at least
+to every one except me--for I saw your expression as you examined
+the little fellow's injury yesterday. You thought only of the
+child--"
+
+"I hope you did also, Mr. Scofield," she replied with an
+exasperating look of surprise.
+
+"You know well I did not," he answered bluntly. "I thought it
+would be well worth while to have my leg broken if you would look
+at me in the same way."
+
+"Truly, Mr. Scofield, I fear you are not as kind-hearted as I
+supposed you to be;" and then she turned to greet Mr.
+Merriweather.
+
+"Won't you let me drive you up to see the boy?" interposed
+Scofield, boldly.
+
+"I'm sorry, but I promised to go up with the doctor this morning."
+
+And so affairs went on. He thought at times her color quickened a
+little when he approached suddenly; he fancied that he
+occasionally surprised a half-wistful, half-mirthful glance, but
+was not sure. He knew that she was as well aware of his intentions
+and wishes as if he had proclaimed them through a speaking-
+trumpet. His only assured ground of comfort was that neither Mr.
+Merriweather nor Mr. Hackley had yet won the coveted prize, though
+they evidently were receiving far greater opportunities to push
+their suit than he had been favored with.
+
+At last his vacation was virtually at an end. But two more days
+would elapse before he must be at his desk again in the city. And
+now we will go back to the time when we found him that early
+morning brooding over his prospects, remote from observation. What
+should he do--propose by letter? "No," he said after much
+cogitation. "I can see that little affected look of surprise with
+which she would read my plain declaration of what she knows so
+well. Shall I force a private interview with her? The very word
+'force,' which I have unconsciously used, teaches me the folly of
+this course. She doesn't care a rap for me, and I should have
+recognized the truth long ago. I'll go back to the hotel and act
+toward her precisely as she has acted toward me. I can then at
+least take back to town a little shred of dignity."
+
+He appeared not to see her when she came down to breakfast. After
+the meal was over he sat on the piazza engrossed in the morning
+paper. An excursion party for the mountains was forming. He merely
+bowed politely as she passed him to join it, but he ground his
+teeth as he saw Merriweather and Hackley escorting her away. When
+they were out of sight he tossed the paper aside and went down to
+the river, purposing to row the fever out of his blood. He was
+already satisfied how difficult his tactics would be should he
+continue to see her, and he determined to be absent all day, to so
+tire himself out that exhaustion would bring early sleep on his
+return.
+
+Weary and leaden-spirited enough he was, as late in the afternoon
+he made his way back, but firm in sudden resolve to depart on an
+early train in the morning and never voluntarily to see the
+obdurate lady of his affections again.
+
+Just as the sun was about sinking he approached a small wooded
+island about half a mile from the boat-house, and was surprised to
+notice a rowboat high and dry upon the beach. "Some one has
+forgotten that the tide is going out," he thought, as he passed;
+but it was no affair of his.
+
+A voice called faintly, "Mr. Scofield!"
+
+He started at the familiar tones, and looked again. Surely that
+was Miss Madison standing by the prow of the stranded skiff! He
+knew well indeed it was she; and he put his boat about with an
+energy not in keeping with his former languid strokes. Then,
+recollecting himself, he became pale with the self-control he
+purposed to maintain, "She is in a scrape," he thought; "and calls
+upon me as she would upon any one else to get her out of it."
+
+Weariness and discouragement inclined him to be somewhat reckless
+and brusque in his words and manner. Under the compulsion of
+circumstances she who would never graciously accord him
+opportunities must now be alone with him; but as a gentleman, he
+could not take advantage of her helplessness, to plead his cause,
+and he felt a sort of rage that he should be mocked with an
+apparent chance which was in fact no chance at all.
+
+His boat stranded several yards from the shore. Throwing down his
+oars, he rose and faced her. Was it the last rays of the setting
+sun which made her face so rosy, or was it embarrassment?
+
+"I'm in a dilemma, Mr. Scofield," Miss Madison began hesitatingly.
+
+"And you would rather be in your boat," he added.
+
+"That would not help me any, seeing where my boat is. I have done
+such a stupid thing! I stole away here to finish a book, and--
+well--I didn't notice that the tide was running out. I'm sure I
+don't know what I'm going to do."
+
+Scofield put his shoulder to an oar and tried to push his craft to
+what deserved the name of shore, but could make little headway. He
+was glad to learn by the effort, however, that the black mud was
+not unfathomable in depth. Hastily reversing his action, he began
+pushing his boat back in the water.
+
+"Surely, Mr. Scofield, you do not intend to leave me," began Miss
+Madison.
+
+"Surely not," he replied; "but then, since you are so averse to my
+company, I must make sure that my boat does not become as fast as
+yours on this ebb-tide, otherwise we should both have to wait till
+the flood."
+
+"Oh, beg pardon! I now understand. But how can you reach me?"
+
+"Wade," he replied coolly, proceeding to take off his shoes and
+stockings.
+
+"What! through that horrid black mud?"
+
+"I couldn't leap that distance, Miss Madison."
+
+"It's too bad! I'm so provoked with myself! The mud may be very
+deep, or there may be a quicksand or something."
+
+"In which case I should merely disappear a little earlier;" and he
+sprang overboard up to his knees, dragged the boat till it was
+sufficiently fast in the ooze to be stationary, then he waded
+ashore.
+
+"Well," she said with a little deprecatory laugh, "it's a comfort
+not to be alone on a desert island."
+
+"Indeed! Can I be welcome under any circumstances?"
+
+"Truly, Mr. Scofield, you know that you were never more welcome.
+It's very kind of you."
+
+"Any man would be glad to come to your aid. It is merely your
+misfortune that I happen to be the one."
+
+"I'm not sure that I regard it as a very great misfortune. You
+proved in the case of that little boy that you can act very
+energetically."
+
+"And get lectured for my intemperate zeal. Well, Miss Madison, I
+cannot make a very pleasing spectacle with blackamoor legs, and
+it's time I put my superfluous energy to some use. Suppose you get
+in your boat, and I'll try to push it off"
+
+She complied with a troubled look in her face. He pushed till the
+veins knotted on his forehead. At this she sprang out, exclaiming,
+"You'll burst a blood-vessel."
+
+"That's only a phase of a ruptured heart, and you are used to such
+phenomena."
+
+"It's too bad for you to talk in that way," she cried.
+
+"It certainly is. I will now attend strictly to business."
+
+"I don't see what you can do."
+
+"Carry you out to my boat--that is all I can do."
+
+"Oh, Mr. Scofield!"
+
+"Can you suggest anything else?"
+
+She looked dubiously at the intervening black mud, and was silent.
+
+"I could go up to the hotel and bring Mr. Merriweather and Mr.
+Hackley."
+
+She turned away to hide her tears.
+
+"Or I could go after a brawny boatman; but delay is serious, for
+the tide is running out fast and the stretch of mud growing wider.
+Can you not imagine me Mike or Tim, or some fellow of that sort."
+
+"No, I can't."
+
+"Then perhaps you wish me to go for Mike or Tim?"
+
+"But the tide is running out so fast, you said."
+
+"Yes, and it will soon be dark."
+
+"Oh, dear!" and there was distress in her tones.
+
+He now said kindly, "Miss Madison, I wish that like Sir Walter
+Raleigh I had a mantle large enough for you to walk over. You can
+at least imagine that I am a gentleman, that you may soon be at
+the hotel, and no one ever be any the wiser that you had to choose
+between me and the deep--ah, well--mud."
+
+"There is no reason for such an allusion, Mr. Scofield."
+
+"Well, then, that you had no other choice."
+
+"That's better. But how in the world can you manage it?"
+
+"You will have to put your arm around my neck."
+
+"Oh!"
+
+"You would put your arm around a post, wouldn't you?" he asked
+with more than his old brusqueness.
+
+"Yes-s; but--"
+
+"But the tide is going out. My own boat will soon be fast. Dinner
+will grow cold at the hotel, and you are only the longer in
+dispensing with me. You must consider the other dire
+alternatives."
+
+"Ob, I forgot that you were in danger of losing a warm dinner."
+
+"You know I have lost too much to think of that or much else. But
+there is no need of satire, Miss Madison. I will do whatever you
+wish. That truly is carte blanche enough even for this occasion."
+
+"I didn't mean to be satirical. I--I--Well, have your own way."
+
+"Not if you prefer some other way."
+
+"You have shown that practically there isn't any other way. I'm
+sorry that my misfortune, or fault rather, should also be your
+misfortune. You don't know how heavy--"
+
+"I soon will, and you must endure it all with such grace as you
+can. Put your arm round my neck, so--oh, that will never do! Well,
+you'll hold tight enough when I'm floundering in the mud."
+
+Without further ado he picked her up, and started rapidly for his
+boat. Stepping on a smooth stone he nearly fell, and her arm did
+tighten decidedly.
+
+"If you try to go so fast," she said, "you will fall."
+
+"I was only seeking to shorten your ordeal, but for obvious
+reasons must go slowly;" and he began feeling his way.
+
+"Mr. Scofield, am I not very heavy?" she asked softly.
+
+"Not as heavy as my heart, and you know it."
+
+"I'm sure I--"
+
+"No, you are not to blame. Moths have scorched their wings before
+now, and will always continue to do so."
+
+Her head rested slightly against his shoulder; her breath fanned
+his cheek; her eyes, soft and lustrous, sought his. But he looked
+away gloomy and defiant, and she felt his grasp tighten vise-like
+around her. "I shall not affect any concealment of the feelings
+which she has recognized so often, nor shall I ask any favors," he
+thought. "There," he said, as he placed her in his boat, "you are
+safe enough now. Now go aft while I push off."
+
+When she was seated he exerted himself almost as greatly as
+before, and the boat gradually slid into the water. He sprang in
+and took the oars.
+
+"Aren't you going to put on your shoes and stockings?"
+
+"Certainly, when I put you ashore."
+
+"Won't that be a pretty certain way of revealing the plight in
+which you found me?"
+
+"Pardon my stupidity; I was preoccupied with the thought of
+relieving you from the society which you have hitherto avoided so
+successfully;" and bending over his shoes he tied them almost
+savagely.
+
+There was a wonderful degree of mirth and tenderness in her eyes
+as she watched him. They had floated by a little point; and as he
+raised his head he saw a form which he recognized as Mr.
+Merriweather rowing toward them. "There comes one of your
+shadows," he said mockingly. "Be careful how you exchange boats
+when he comes along-side. I will give you no help in such a case."
+
+She looked hastily over her shoulder at the approaching oarsman.
+"I think it will be safer to remain in your boat," she said.
+
+"Oh, it will be entirely safe," he replied bitterly.
+
+"Mr. Merriweather must have seen you carrying me."
+
+"That's another thing which I can't help."
+
+"Mr. Scofield," she began softly.
+
+He arrested his oars, and turned wondering eyes to hers. They were
+sparkling with mirth as she continued, "Are you satisfied that a
+certain young woman whom you once watched very narrowly is
+entirely to your mind?"
+
+He caught her mirthful glance and misunderstood her. With dignity
+he answered, "I'm not the first man who blundered to his cost,
+though probably it would have made no difference. You must do me
+the justice, however, to admit that I did not maintain the role of
+observer very long--that I wooed you so openly that every one was
+aware of my suit. Is it not a trifle cruel to taunt me after I had
+made such ample amends?"
+
+"I was thinking of Mr. Merriweather--"
+
+"Undoubtedly"
+
+"Since he has seen me with my arm around your neck--you know I
+couldn't help it--perhaps he might row the other way if--if--well,
+if he saw you--what shall I say--sitting over here--by me--or--
+Somehow I don't feel very hungry, and I wouldn't mind spending
+another hour--"
+
+Scofield nearly upset the boat in his precipitous effort to gain a
+seat beside her--and Mr. Merriweather did row another way.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CHRISTMAS EVE IN WAR TIMES
+
+
+It was the beginning of a battle. The skirmish line of the Union
+advance was sweeping rapidly over a rough mountainous region in
+the South, and in his place on the extreme left of this line was
+Private Anson Marlow. Tall trees rising from underbrush, rocks,
+bowlders, gulches worn by spring torrents, were the
+characteristics of the field, which was in wild contrast with the
+parade-grounds on which the combatants had first learned the
+tactics of war. The majority, however, of those now in the ranks
+had since been drilled too often under like circumstances, and
+with lead and iron shotted guns, not to know their duty, and the
+lines of battle were as regular as the broken country allowed. So
+far as many obstacles permitted, Marlow kept his proper distance
+from the others on the line and fired coolly when he caught
+glimpses of the retreating Confederate skirmishers. They were
+retiring with ominous readiness toward a wooded height which the
+enemy occupied with a force of unknown strength. That strength was
+soon manifested in temporary disaster to the Union forces, which
+were driven back with heavy loss.
+
+Neither the battle nor its fortunes are the objects of our present
+concern, but rather the fate of Private Marlow. The tide of battle
+drifted away and left the soldier desperately wounded in a narrow
+ravine, through which babbled a small stream. Excepting the voices
+of his wife and children no music had ever sounded so sweetly in
+his ears. With great difficulty he crawled to a little bubbling
+pool formed by a tiny cascade and encircling stones, and partially
+slaked his intolerable thirst.
+
+He believed he was dying--bleeding to death. The very thought
+blunted his faculties for a time; and he was conscious of little
+beyond a dull wonder. Could it be possible that the tragedy of his
+death was enacting in that peaceful, secluded nook? Could Nature
+be so indifferent or so unconscious if it were true that he was
+soon to lie there DEAD? He saw the speckled trout lying motionless
+at the bottom of the pool, the gray squirrels sporting in the
+boughs over his head. The sunlight shimmered and glinted through
+the leaves, flecking with light his prostrate form. He dipped his
+hand in the blood that had welled from his side, and it fell in
+rubies from his fingers. Could that be his blood--his life-blood;
+and would it soon all ooze away? Could it be that death was coming
+through all the brightness of that summer afternoon?
+
+From a shadowed tree further up the glen, a wood-thrush suddenly
+began its almost unrivalled song. The familiar melody, heard so
+often from his cottage-porch in the June twilight, awoke him to
+the bitter truth. His wife had then sat beside him, while his
+little ones played here and there among the trees and shrubbery.
+They would hear the same song to-day; he would never hear it
+again. That counted for little; but the thought of their sitting
+behind the vines and listening to their favorite bird, spring
+after spring and summer after summer, and he ever absent,
+overwhelmed him.
+
+"Oh, Gertrude, my wife, my wife! Oh, my children!" he groaned.
+
+His breast heaved with a great sigh; the blood welled afresh from
+his wound; what seemed a mortal weakness crept over him; and he
+thought he died.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Say, Eb, is he done gone?"
+
+"'Clar to grashus if I know. 'Pears mighty like it." These words
+were spoken by two stout negroes, who had stolen to the
+battlefield as the sounds of conflict died away.
+
+"I'm doggoned if I tink dat he's dead. He's only swoonded,"
+asserted the man addressed as Eb. "'Twon't do to lebe 'im here to
+die, Zack."
+
+"Sartin not; we'd hab bad luck all our days."
+
+"I reckon ole man Pearson will keep him; and his wife's a po'ful
+nuss."
+
+"Pearson orter; he's a Unioner."
+
+"S'pose we try him; 'tain't so bery fur off."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the morning of the 24th of December, Mrs. Anson Marlow sat in
+the living-room of her cottage, that stood well out in the suburbs
+of a Northern town. Her eyes were hollow and full of trouble that
+seemed almost beyond tears, and the bare room, that had been
+stripped of nearly every appliance and suggestion of comfort, but
+too plainly indicated one of the causes. Want was stamped on her
+thin face, that once had been so full and pretty; poverty in its
+bitter extremity was unmistakably shown by the uncarpeted floor,
+the meagre fire, and scanty furniture. It was a period of
+depression; work had been scarce, and much of the time she had
+been too ill and feeble to do more than care for her children.
+Away back in August her resources had been running low; but she
+had daily expected the long arrears of pay which her husband would
+receive as soon as the exigencies of the campaign permitted.
+Instead of these funds, so greatly needed, came the tidings of a
+Union defeat, with her husband's name down among the missing.
+Beyond that brief mention, so horrible in its vagueness, she had
+never heard a word from the one who not only sustained her home,
+but also her heart. Was he languishing in a Southern prison, or,
+mortally wounded, had he lingered out some terrible hours on that
+wild battlefield, a brief description of which had been so dwelt
+upon by her morbid fancy that it had become like one of the scenes
+in Dante's "Inferno"? For a long time she could not and would not
+believe that such an overwhelming disaster had befallen her and
+her children, although she knew that similar losses had come to
+thousands of others. Events that the world regards as not only
+possible but probable are often so terrible in their personal
+consequences that we shrink from even the bare thought of their
+occurrence.
+
+If Mrs. Marlow had been told from the first that her husband was
+dead, the shock resulting would not have been so injurious as the
+suspense that robbed her of rest for days, weeks, and months. She
+haunted the post-office, and if a stranger was seen coming up the
+street toward her cottage she watched feverishly for his turning
+in at her gate with the tidings of her husband's safety. Night
+after night she Jay awake, hoping, praying that she might hear his
+step returning on a furlough to which wounds or sickness had
+entitled him. The natural and inevitable result was illness and
+nervous prostration.
+
+Practical neighbors had told her that her course was all wrong;
+that she should be resigned and even cheerful for her children's
+sake; that she needed to sleep well and live well, in order that
+she might have strength to provide for them. She would make
+pathetic attempts to follow this sound and thrifty advice, but
+suddenly when at her work or in her troubled sleep, that awful
+word "missing" would pierce her heart like an arrow, and she would
+moan, and at times in the depths of her anguish cry out, "Oh,
+where is he? Shall I ever see him again?"
+
+But the unrelenting demands of life are made as surely upon the
+breaking as upon the happy heart. She and her children must have
+food, clothing, and shelter. Her illness and feebleness at last
+taught her that she must not yield to her grief, except so far as
+she was unable to suppress it; that for the sake of those now
+seemingly dependent upon her, she must rally every shattered nerve
+and every relaxed muscle. With a heroism far beyond that of her
+husband and his comrades in the field, she sought to fight the
+wolf from the door, or at least to keep him at bay. Although the
+struggle seemed a hopeless one, she patiently did her best from
+day to day, eking out her scanty earnings by the sale or pawning
+of such of her household goods as she could best spare. She felt
+that she would do anything rather than reveal her poverty or
+accept charity. Some help was more or less kindly offered, but
+beyond such aid as one neighbor may receive of another, she had
+said gently but firmly, "Not yet."
+
+The Marlows were comparative strangers in the city where they had
+resided. Her husband had been a teacher in one of its public
+schools, and his salary small. Patriotism had been his motive for
+entering the army, and while it had cost him a mighty struggle to
+leave his family, he felt that he had no more reason to hold back
+than thousands of others. He believed that he could still provide
+for those dependent upon him, and if he fell, those for whom he
+died would not permit his widow and children to suffer. But the
+first popular enthusiasm for the war had largely died out; the
+city was full of widows and orphans; there was depression of
+spirit, stagnation in business, and a very general disposition on
+the part of those who had means, to take care of themselves, and
+provide for darker days that might be in the immediate future.
+Sensitive, retiring Mrs. Marlow was not the one to push her claims
+or reveal her need. Moreover, she could never give up the hope
+that tidings from her husband might at any time bring relief and
+safety.
+
+But the crisis had come at last; and on this dreary December day
+she was face to face with absolute want. The wolf, with his gaunt
+eyes, was crouched beside her cold hearth. A pittance owed to her
+for work had not been paid. The little food left in the house had
+furnished the children an unsatisfying breakfast; she had eaten
+nothing. On the table beside her lay a note from the agent of the
+estate of which her home was a part, bidding her call that
+morning. She knew why--the rent was two months in arrears. It
+seemed like death to leave the house in which her husband had
+placed her, and wherein she had spent her happiest days. It stood
+well away from the crowded town. The little yard and garden, with
+their trees, vines, and shrubbery, some of which her husband had
+planted, were all dear from association. In the rear there was a
+grove and open fields, which, though not belonging to the cottage,
+were not forbidden to the children; and they formed a wonderland
+of delight in spring, summer, and fall. Must she take her active,
+restless boy Jamie, the image of his father, into a crowded
+tenement? Must golden-haired Susie, with her dower of beauty, be
+imprisoned in one close room, or else be exposed to the evil of
+corrupt association just beyond the threshold?
+
+Moreover, her retired home had become a refuge. Here she could
+hide her sorrow and poverty. Here she could touch what he had
+touched, and sit during the long winter evenings in his favorite
+corner by the fire. Around her, within and without, were the
+little appliances for her comfort which his hands had made, flow
+could she leave all this and live? Deep in her heart also the hope
+would linger that he would come again and seek her where he had
+left her.
+
+"O God!" she cried suddenly. "Thou wouldst not, couldst not permit
+him to die without one farewell word," and she buried her face in
+her hands and rocked back and forth, while hard, dry sobs shook
+her slight, famine-pinched form.
+
+The children stopped their play and came and leaned upon her lap.
+
+"Don't cry, mother," said Jamie, a little boy of ten. "I'll soon
+be big enough to work for you; and I'll get rich, and you shall
+have the biggest house in town. I'll take care of you if papa
+don't come back."
+
+Little Sue knew not what to say, but the impulse of her love was
+her best guide. She threw her arms around her mother's neck with
+such an impetuous and childlike outburst of affection that the
+poor woman's bitter and despairing thoughts were banished for a
+time. The deepest chord of her nature, mother love, was touched;
+and for her children's sake she rose up once more and faced the
+hard problems of her life. Putting on her bonnet and thin shawl
+(she had parted with much that she now so sorely needed), she went
+out into the cold December wind. The sky was clouded like her
+hopes, and the light, even in the morning hours, was dim and
+leaden-hued.
+
+She first called on Mr. Jackson, the agent from whom she rented
+her home, and besought him to give her a little more time.
+
+"I will beg for work from door to door," she said. "Surely in this
+Christian city there must be those who will give me work; and that
+is all I ask."
+
+The sleek, comfortable man, in his well-appointed office, was
+touched slightly, and said in a voice that was not so gruff as he
+at first had intended it should be:
+
+"Well, I will wait a week or two longer. If then you cannot pay
+something on what is already due, my duty to my employers will
+compel me to take the usual course. You have told me all along
+that your husband would surely return, and I have hated to say a
+word to discourage you; but I fear you will have to bring yourself
+to face the truth and act accordingly, as so many others have
+done. I know it's very hard for you, but I am held responsible by
+my employer, and at my intercession he has been lenient, as you
+must admit. You could get a room or two in town for half what you
+must pay where you are. Good-morning."
+
+She went out again into the street, which the shrouded sky made
+sombre in spite of preparations seen on every side for the chief
+festival of the year. The fear was growing strong that like Him in
+whose memory the day was honored, she and her little ones might
+soon not know where to lay their heads. She succeeded in getting
+the small sum owed to her and payment also for some sewing just
+finished. More work she could not readily obtain, for every one
+was busy and preoccupied by the coming day of gladness.
+
+"Call again," some said kindly or carelessly, according to their
+nature. "After the holidays are over we will try to have or make
+some work for you."
+
+"But I need--I must have work now," she ventured to say whenever
+she had the chance.
+
+In response to this appeal there were a few offers of charity,
+small indeed, but from which she drew back with an instinct so
+strong that it could not be overcome. On every side she heard the
+same story. The times were very hard; requests for work and aid
+had been so frequent that purses and patience were exhausted.
+Moreover, people had spent their Christmas money on their
+households and friends, and were already beginning to feel poor.
+
+At last she obtained a little work, and having made a few
+purchases of that which was absolutely essential, she was about to
+drag her weary feet homeward when the thought occurred to her that
+the children would want to hang up their stockings at night; and
+she murmured: "It may be the last chance I shall ever have to put
+a Christmas gift in them. Oh, that I were stronger! Oh, that I
+could take my sorrow more as others seem to take theirs! But I
+cannot, I cannot! My burden is greater than I can bear. The cold
+of this awful day is chilling my very heart, and my grief, as hope
+dies, is crushing my soul. Oh, he must be dead, he must be dead!
+That is what they all think. God help my little ones! Oh, what
+will become of them if I sink, as I fear I shall! If it were not
+for them I feel as if I would fall and die here in the street.
+Well, be our fate what it may, they shall owe to me one more gleam
+of happiness;" and she went into a confectioner's shop and bought
+a few ornamented cakes. These were the only gifts she could
+afford, and they must be in the form of food.
+
+Before she reached home the snow was whirling in the frosty air,
+and the shadows of the brief winter day deepening fast. With a
+smile far more pathetic than tears she greeted the children, who
+were cold, hungry, and frightened at her long absence; and they,
+children-like, saw only the smile, and not the grief it masked.
+They saw also the basket which she had placed on the table, and
+were quick to note that it seemed a little fuller than of late.
+
+"Jamie," she said, "run to the store down the street for some coal
+and kindlings that I bought, and then we will have a good fire and
+a nice supper;" and the boy, at such a prospect, eagerly obeyed.
+
+She was glad to have him gone, that she might hide her weakness.
+She sank into a chair, so white and faint that even little Susie
+left off peering into the basket, and came to her with a troubled
+face.
+
+"It's nothing, dearie," the poor creature said. "Mamma's only a
+little tired. See," she added, tottering to the table, "I have
+brought you a great piece of gingerbread."
+
+The hungry child grasped it, and was oblivious and happy.
+
+By the time Jamie returned with his first basket of kindling and
+coal, the mother had so far rallied from her exhaustion as to meet
+him smilingly again and help him replenish the dying fire.
+
+"Now you shall rest and have your gingerbread before going for
+your second load," she said cheerily; and the boy took what was
+ambrosia to him, and danced around the room in joyous reaction
+from the depression of the long weary day, during which, lonely
+and hungry, he had wondered why his mother did not return.
+
+"So little could make them happy, and yet I cannot seem to obtain
+even that little," she sighed. "I fear--indeed, I fear--I cannot
+be with them another Christmas; therefore they shall remember that
+I tried to make them happy once more, and the recollection may
+survive the long sad days before them, and become a part of my
+memory."
+
+The room was now growing dark, and she lighted the lamp. Then she
+cowered shiveringly over the reviving fire, feeling as if she
+could never be warm again.
+
+The street-lamps were lighted early on that clouded, stormy
+evening, and they were a signal to Mr. Jackson, the agent, to
+leave his office. He remembered that he had ordered a holiday
+dinner, and now found himself in a mood to enjoy it. He had
+scarcely left his door before a man, coming up the street with
+great strides and head bent down to the snow-laden blast, brushed
+roughly against him. The stranger's cap was drawn over his eyes,
+and the raised collar of his blue army overcoat nearly concealed
+his face. The man hurriedly begged pardon, and was hastening on
+when Mr. Jackson's exclamation of surprise caused him to stop and
+look at the person he had jostled.
+
+"Why, Mr. Marlow," the agent began, "I'm glad to see you. It's a
+pleasure I feared I should never have again."
+
+"My wife," the man almost gasped, "she's still in the house I
+rented of you?"
+
+"Oh, certainly," was the hasty reply. "It'll be all right' now."
+
+"What do you mean? Has it not been all right?"
+
+"Well, you see," said Mr. Jackson, apologetically, "we have been
+very lenient to your wife, but the rent has not been paid for over
+two months, and--"
+
+"And you were about to turn her and her children out-of-doors in
+midwinter," broke in the soldier, wrathfully. "That is the way you
+sleek, comfortable stay-at-home people care for those fighting
+your battles. After you concluded that I was dead, and that the
+rent might not be forthcoming, you decided to put my wife into the
+street. Open your office, sir, and you shall have your rent."
+
+"Now, Mr. Marlow, there's no cause for pitching into me in this
+way. You know that I am but an agent, and--"
+
+"Tell your rich employer, then, what I have said, and ask him what
+he would be worth to-day were there not men like myself, who are
+willing to risk everything and suffer everything for the Union.
+But I've no time to bandy words. Have you seen my wife lately?"
+
+"Yes," was the hesitating reply; "she was here to-day, and I--"
+
+"How is she? What did you say to her?"
+
+"Well, she doesn't look very strong. I felt sorry for her, and
+gave her more time, taking the responsibility myself--"
+
+"How much time?"
+
+"I said two weeks, but no doubt I could have had the time
+extended."
+
+"I have MY doubts. Will you and your employer please accept my
+humble gratitude that you had the grace not to turn her out-of-
+doors during the holiday season? It might have caused remark; but
+that consideration and some others that I might name are not to be
+weighed against a few dollars and cents. I shall now remove the
+strain upon your patriotism at once, and will not only pay
+arrears, but also for two months in advance."
+
+"Oh, there's no need of that to-day."
+
+"Yes, there is. My wife shall feel to-night that she has a home.
+She evidently has not received the letter I wrote as soon as I
+reached our lines, or you would not have been talking to her about
+two weeks more of shelter."
+
+The agent reopened his office and saw a roll of bills extracted
+from Marlow's pocket that left no doubt of the soldier's ability
+to provide for his family. He gave his receipt in silence, feeling
+that words would not mend matters, and then trudged off to his
+dinner with a nagging appetite.
+
+As Marlow strode away he came to a sudden resolution--he would
+look upon his wife and children before they saw him; he would
+feast his eyes while they were unconscious of the love that was
+beaming upon them. The darkness and storm favored his project, and
+in brief time he saw the light in his window. Unlatching the gate
+softly, and with his steps muffled by the snow that already
+carpeted the frozen ground, he reached the window, the blinds of
+which were but partially closed. His children frolicking about the
+room were the first objects that caught his eye, and he almost
+laughed aloud in his joy. Then, by turning another blind slightly,
+he saw his wife shivering over the fire.
+
+"Great God!" he muttered, "how she has suffered!" and he was about
+to rush in and take her into his arms. On the threshold he
+restrained himself, paused, and said, "No, not jet; I'll break the
+news of my return in my own way. The shock of my sudden appearance
+might be too great for her;" and he went back to the window. The
+wife's eyes were following her children with such a wistful
+tenderness that the boy, catching her gaze, stopped his sport,
+came to her side, and began to speak. They were but a few feet
+away, and Marlow caught every word.
+
+"Mamma," the child said, "you didn't eat any breakfast, and I
+don't believe you have eaten anything to-day. You are always
+giving everything to us. Now I declare I won't eat another bit
+unless you take half of my cake;" and he broke off a piece and
+laid it in her lap.
+
+"Oh, Jamie," cried the poor woman, "you looked so like your father
+when you spoke that I could almost see him;" and she caught him in
+her arms and covered him with kisses.
+
+"I'll soon be big enough to take care of you. I'm going to grow up
+just like papa and do everything for you," the boy said proudly as
+she released him.
+
+Little Susie also came and placed what was left of her cake in her
+mother's lap, saying:
+
+"I'll work for you, too, mamma; and to-morrow I'll sell the doll
+Santa Claus gave me last Christmas, and then we'll all have plenty
+to eat."
+
+Anson Marlow was sobbing outside the window as only a man weeps;
+and his tears in the bitter cold became drops of ice before they
+reached the ground.
+
+"My darlings!" the mother cried. "Oh, God spare me to you and
+provide some way for us! Your love should make me rich though I
+lack all else. There, I won't cry any more, and you shall have as
+happy a Christmas as I can give you. Perhaps He who knew what it
+was to be homeless and shelterless will provide for our need; so
+we'll try to trust Him and keep His birthday. And now, Jamie, go
+and bring the rest of the coal, and then we will make the dear
+home that papa gave us cheery and warm once more. If he were only
+with us we wouldn't mind hunger or cold, would we? Oh, my
+husband!" she broke out afresh, "if you could only come back, even
+though crippled and helpless, I feel that I could live and grow
+strong from simple gladness."
+
+"Don't you think, mamma," Jamie asked, "that God will let papa
+come down from heaven and spend Christmas with us? He might be
+here like the angels, and we not see him."
+
+"I'm afraid not," the sad woman replied, shaking her head and
+speaking more to herself than to the child. "I don't see how he
+could go back to heaven and be happy if he knew all. No, we must
+be patient and try to do our best, so that we can go to him. Go
+now, Jamie, before it gets too late. I'll get supper, and then
+we'll sing a Christmas hymn; and you and Susie shall hang up your
+stockings, just as you did last Christmas, when dear papa was with
+us. We'll try to do everything he would wish, and then by and by
+we shall see him again."
+
+As the boy started on his errand his father stepped back out of
+the light of the window, then followed the child with a great
+yearning in his heart. He would make sure the boy was safe at home
+again before he carried out his plan. From a distance he saw the
+little fellow receive the coal and start slowly homeward with the
+burden, and he followed to a point where the light of the street-
+lamps ceased, then joined the child, and said in a gruff voice,
+"Here, little man, I'm going your way. Let me carry your basket;"
+and he took it and strode on so fast that the boy had to run to
+keep pace with him. Jamie shuffled along through the snow as well
+as he could, but his little legs were so short in comparison with
+those of the kindly stranger that he found himself gradually
+falling behind. So he put on an extra burst of speed and managed
+to lay hold of the long blue skirt of the army overcoat.
+
+"Please, sir, don't go quite so fast," he panted.
+
+The stranger slackened his pace, and in a constrained tone of
+voice, asked:
+
+"How far are you going, little man?"
+
+"Only to our house--mamma's. She's Mrs. Marlow, you know."
+
+"Yes, I know--that is, I reckon I do. How much further is it?"
+
+"Oh, not much; we're most half-way now. I say, you're a soldier,
+aren't you?"
+
+"Yes, my boy," said Marlow, with a lump in his throat. "Why?"
+
+"Well, you see, my papa is a soldier, too, and I thought you might
+know him. We haven't heard from him for a good while, and--"
+choking a bit--"mamma's afraid he is hurt, or taken prisoner or
+something." He could not bring himself to say "killed."
+
+Jamie let go the overcoat to draw his sleeve across his eyes, and
+the big man once more strode on faster than ever, and Jamie began
+to fear lest the dusky form might disappear in the snow and
+darkness with both basket and coal; but the apparent stranger so
+far forgot his part that he put down the basket at Mrs. Marlow's
+gate, and then passed on so quickly that the panting boy had not
+time to thank him. Indeed, Anson Marlow knew that if he lingered
+but a moment he would have the child in his arms.
+
+"Why, Jamie," exclaimed his mother, "how could you get back so
+soon with that heavy basket? It was too heavy for you, but you
+will have to be mamma's little man mow."
+
+"A big man caught up with me and carried it. I don't care if he
+did have a gruff voice, I'm sure he was a good kind man. He knew
+where we lived too, for he put the basket down at our gate before
+I could say a word, I was so out of breath, and then he was out of
+sight in a minute." Some instinct kept him from saying anything
+about the army overcoat.
+
+"It's some neighbor that lives further up the street, I suppose,
+and saw you getting the coal at the store," Mrs. Marlow said,
+"Yes, Jamie, it was a good, kind act to help a little boy, and I
+think he'll have a happier Christmas for doing it."
+
+"Do you really think he'll have a happier Christmas, mamma?"
+
+"Yes, I truly think so. We are so made that we cannot do a kind
+act without feeling the better for it."
+
+"Well, I think he was a queer sort of a man if he was kind. I
+never knew any one to walk so fast. I spoke to him once, but he
+did not answer. Perhaps the wind roared so he couldn't hear me."
+
+"No doubt he was hurrying home to his wife and children," she said
+with a deep sigh.
+
+When his boy disappeared within the door of the cottage, Marlow
+turned and walked rapidly toward the city, first going to the
+grocery at which he had been in the habit of purchasing his
+supplies. The merchant stared for a moment, then stepped forward
+and greeted his customer warmly.
+
+"Well," he said, after his first exclamations of surprise were
+over, "the snow has made you almost as white as a ghost; but I'm
+glad you're not one. We scarce ever thought to see you again."
+
+"Has my wife an open account here now?" was the brief response.
+
+"Yes, and it might have been much larger. I've told her so too.
+She stopped taking credit some time ago, and when she's had a
+dollar or two to spare she's paid it on the old score. She bought
+so little that I said to her once that she need not go elsewhere
+to buy; that I' d sell to her as cheap as any one: that I believed
+you'd come back all right, and if you didn't she could pay me when
+she could. What do you think she did? Why, she burst out crying,
+and said, 'God bless you, sir, for saying my husband will come
+back! So many have discouraged me.' I declare to you her feeling
+was so right down genuine that I had to mop my own eyes. But she
+wouldn't take any more credit, and she bought so little that I've
+been troubled. I'd have sent her something, but your wife somehow
+ain't one of them kind that you can give things to, and--"
+
+Marlow interrupted the good-hearted, garrulous shopman by saying
+significantly, "Come with me to your back-office"; for the soldier
+feared that some one might enter who would recognize him and carry
+the tidings to his home prematurely.
+
+"Mr. Wilkins," he said rapidly, "I wanted to find out if you too
+had thriftily shut down on a soldier's wife. You shall not regret
+your kindness."
+
+"Hang it all!" broke in Wilkins, with compunction, "I haven't been
+very kind. I ought to have gone and seen your wife and found out
+how things were; and I meant to, but I've been so confoundedly
+busy--"
+
+"No matter now; I've not a moment to spare. You must help me to
+break the news of my return in my own way. I mean they shall have
+such a Christmas in the little cottage as was never known in this
+town. You could send a load right over there, couldn't you?"
+
+"Certainly, certainly," said Wilkins, under the impulse of both
+business thrift and goodwill; and a list of tea, coffee, sugar,
+flour, bread, cakes, apples, etc., was dashed off rapidly; and
+Marlow had the satisfaction of seeing the errand-boy, the two
+clerks, and the proprietor himself busily working to fill the
+order in the shortest possible space of time.
+
+He next went to a restaurant, a little further down the street,
+where he had taken his meals for a short time before he brought
+his family to town, and was greeted with almost equal surprise and
+warmth. Marlow cut short all words by his almost feverish haste. A
+huge turkey had just been roasted for the needs of the coming
+holiday, and this with a cold ham and a pot of coffee was ordered
+to be sent in a covered tray within a quarter of an hour. Then a
+toy-shop was visited, and such a doll purchased! for tears came
+into Marlow's eyes whenever he thought of his child's offer to
+sell her dolly for her mother's sake.
+
+After selecting a sled for Jamie, and directing that they should
+be sent at once, he could restrain his impatience no longer, and
+almost tore back to his station at the cottage window. His wife
+was placing the meagre little supper on the table, and how poor
+and scanty it was!
+
+"Is that the best the dear soul can do on Christmas Eve?" he
+groaned. "Why, there's scarcely enough for little Sue. Thank God,
+my darling, I will sit down with you to a rather different supper
+before long!"
+
+He bowed his head reverently with his wife as she asked God's
+blessing, and wondered at her faith. Then he looked and listened
+again with a heart-hunger which had been growing for months.
+
+"Do you really think Santa Claus will fill our stockings to-
+night?" Sue asked.
+
+"I think he'll have something for you," she replied. "There are so
+many poor little boys and girls in the city that he may not be
+able to bring very much to you."
+
+"Who is Santa Claus, anyway?" questioned Jamie.
+
+Tears came into the wife's eyes as she thought of the one who had
+always remembered them so kindly as far as his modest means
+permitted.
+
+She hesitated in her reply; and before she could decide upon an
+answer there was a knock at the door. Jamie ran to open it, and
+started back as a man entered with cap, eyebrows, beard, and
+shaggy coat all white with the falling snow. He placed two great
+baskets of provisions on the floor, and said they were for Mrs.
+Anson Marlow.
+
+"There is some mistake," Mrs. Marlow began; but the children,
+after staring a moment, shouted, "Santa Claus! Santa Claus!"
+
+The grocer's man took the unexpected cue instantly, and said, "No
+mistake, ma'am. They are from Santa Claus;" and before another
+word could be spoken he was gone. The face of the grocer's man was
+not very familiar to Mrs. Marlow, and the snow had disguised him
+completely. The children had no misgivings and pounced upon the
+baskets and with, exclamations of delight drew out such articles
+as they could lift.
+
+"I can't understand it," said the mother, bewildered and almost
+frightened.
+
+"Why, mamma, it's as plain as day," cried Jamie. "Didn't he look
+just like the pictures of Santa Claus--white beard and white
+eyebrows? Oh, mamma, mamma, here is a great paper of red-cheeked
+apples!" and he and Susie tugged at it until they dragged it over
+the side of the basket, when the bottom of the bag came out, and
+the fruit flecked the floor with red and gold. Oh, the bliss of
+picking up those apples; of comparing one with another; of running
+to the mother and asking which was the biggest and which the
+reddest and most beautifully streaked!
+
+"There must have been some mistake," the poor woman kept murmuring
+as she examined the baskets and found how liberal and varied was
+the supply, "for who could or would have been so kind?"
+
+"Why, mommie," said little Sue, reproachfully, "Santa Claus
+brought 'em. Haven't you always told us that Santa Claus liked to
+make us happy?"
+
+The long-exiled father felt that he could restrain himself but a
+few moments longer, and he was glad to see that the rest of his
+purchases were at the door. With a look so intent, and yearning
+concentration of thought so intense that it was strange that they
+could not feel his presence, he bent his eyes once more upon a
+scene that would imprint itself upon his memory forever.
+
+But while he stood there, another scene came before his mental
+vision. Oddly enough his thought went back to that far-off
+Southern brookside, where he had lain with his hands in the cool
+water. He leaned against the window-casing, with the Northern snow
+whirling about his head; but he breathed the balmy breath of a
+Southern forest, the wood-thrush sang in the trees overhead, and
+he could--so it seemed to him--actually feel the water-worn
+pebbles under his palms as he watched the life-blood ebbing from
+his side. Then there was a dim consciousness of rough but kindly
+arms bearing him through the underbrush, and more distinctly the
+memory of weary weeks of convalescence in a mountaineer's cabin.
+All these scenes of peril, before he finally reached the Union
+lines, passed before him as he stood in a species of trance beside
+the window of his home.
+
+The half-grown boys sent from the restaurant and toy-shop could
+not be mistaken for Santa Claus even by the credulous fancy of the
+children, and Mrs. Marlow stepped forward eagerly and said:
+
+"I am sure there is some mistake. You are certainly leaving these
+articles at the wrong house." The faces of the children began to
+grow anxious and troubled also, for even their faith could not
+accept such marvellous good-fortune. Jamie looked at the sled with
+a kind of awe, and saw at a glance that it was handsomer than any
+in the street "Mr. Lansing, a wealthy man, lives a little further
+on," Mrs. Marlow began to urge; "and these things must be meant--"
+
+"Isn't your name Mrs. Anson Marlow?" asked the boy from the
+restaurant.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then I must do as I've been told;" and he opened his tray and
+placed the turkey, the ham, and the coffee on the table.
+
+"If he's right, I'm right too," said he of the toy-shop. "Them was
+my directions;" and they were both about to depart when the woman
+sprang forward and gasped: "Stay!"
+
+She clasped her hands and trembled violently.
+
+"Who sent these things?" she faltered.
+
+"Our bosses, mum," replied the boy from the restaurant,
+hesitatingly.
+
+She sprang toward him, seized his arm, and looked imploringly into
+his face. "Who ordered them sent?" she asked in a low, passionate
+voice.
+
+The young fellow began to smile, and stammered awkwardly, "I don't
+think I'm to tell."
+
+She released his arm and glanced around with a look of intense
+expectation.
+
+"Oh, oh!" she gasped with quick short sobs, "can it be--" Then she
+sprang to the door, opened it, and looked out into the black,
+stormy night. What seemed a shadow rushed toward her; she felt
+herself falling, but strong arms caught and bore her, half
+fainting, to a lounge within the room.
+
+Many have died from sorrow, but few from joy. With her husband's
+arms around her Mrs. Marlow's weakness soon passed. In response to
+his deep, earnest tones of soothing and entreaty, she speedily
+opened her eyes and gave him a smile so full of content and
+unutterable joy that all anxiety in her behalf began to pass from
+his mind.
+
+"Yes," she said softly, "I can live now. It seems as if a new and
+stronger life were coming back with every breath."
+
+The young fellows who had been the bearers of the gifts were so
+touched that they drew their rough sleeves across their eyes as
+they hastened away, closing the door on the happiest family in the
+city.
+
+
+
+
+A BRAVE LITTLE QUAKERESS
+
+A TRADITION OF THE REVOLUTION
+
+
+Not very far from the Highlands of the Hudson, but at a
+considerable distance from the river, there stood, one hundred
+years ago, a farmhouse that evidently had been built as much for
+strength and defence as for comfort. The dwelling was one story
+and a half in height, and was constructed of hewn logs, fitted
+closely together, and made impervious to the weather by old-
+fashioned mortar, which seems to defy the action of time. Two
+entrances facing each other led to the main or living room, and
+they were so large that a horse could pass through them, dragging
+in immense back-logs. These, having been detached from a chain
+when in the proper position, were rolled into the huge fireplace
+that yawned like a sooty cavern at the farther end of the
+apartment. A modern housekeeper, who finds wood too dear an
+article for even the air-tight stove, would be appalled by this
+fireplace. Stalwart Mr. Reynolds, the master of the house, could
+easily walk under its stony arch without removing his broad-
+brimmed Quaker hat. From the left side, and at a convenient height
+from the hearth, a massive crane swung in and out; while high
+above the centre of the fire was an iron hook, or trammel, from
+which by chains were suspended the capacious iron pots used in
+those days for culinary or for stock-feeding purposes. This
+trammel, which hitherto had suggested only good cheer, was
+destined to have in coming years a terrible significance to the
+household.
+
+When the blaze was moderate, or the bed of live coals not too
+ample, the children could sit on either side of the fireplace and
+watch the stars through its wide flue; and this was a favorite
+amusement of Phebe Reynolds, the eldest daughter of the house.
+
+A door opened from the living-room into the other apartments,
+furnished in the old massive style that outlasts many generations.
+All the windows were protected by stout oaken shutters which, when
+closed, almost transformed the dwelling into a fortress, giving
+security against any ordinary attack. There were no loopholes in
+the walls through which the muzzle of the deadly rifle could be
+thrust and fired from within. This feature, so common in the
+primitive abodes of the country, was not in accordance with John
+Reynolds's Quaker principles. While indisposed to fight, it was
+evident that the good man intended to interpose between himself
+and his enemies all the passive resistance that his stout little
+domicile could offer.
+
+And he knew that he had enemies of the bitterest and most
+unscrupulous character. He was a stanch Whig, loyal to the
+American cause, and, above all, resolute and active in the
+maintenance of law and order in those lawless times. He thus had
+made himself obnoxious to his Tory neighbors, and an object of
+hate and fear to a gang of marauders, who, under the pretence of
+acting with the British forces, plundered the country far and
+near. Claudius Smith, the Robin Hood of the Highlands and the
+terror of the pastoral low country, had formerly been their
+leader; and the sympathy shown by Mr. Reynolds with all the
+efforts to bring him to justice which finally resulted in his
+capture and execution, and awakened among his former associates an
+intense desire for revenge. This fact, well known to the farmer,
+kept him constantly on his guard, and filled his wife and daughter
+Phebe with deep apprehension.
+
+At the time of our story, Phebe was only twelve years of age, but
+was mature beyond her years. There were several younger children,
+and she had become almost womanly in aiding her mother in their
+care. Her stout, plump little body had been developed rather than
+enfeebled by early toil, and a pair of resolute and often mirthful
+blue eyes bespoke a spirit not easily daunted. She was a native
+growth of the period, vitalized by pure air and out-of-door
+pursuits, and she abounded in the shrewd intelligence and demure
+refinement of her sect to a degree that led some of their
+neighbors to speak of her as "a little old woman." When alone with
+the children, however, or in the woods and fields, she would doff
+her Quaker primness, and romp, climb trees, and frolic with the
+wildest.
+
+But of late, the troublous times and her father's peril had
+brought unwonted thoughtfulness into her blue eyes, and more than
+Quaker gravity to the fresh young face, which, in spite of
+exposure to sun and wind, maintained much of its inherited
+fairness of complexion. Of her own accord she was becoming a
+vigilant sentinel, for a rumor had reached Mr. Reynolds that
+sooner or later he would have a visit from the dreaded mountain
+gang of hard riders. Two roads leading to the hills converged on
+the main highway not far from his dwelling; and from an adjacent
+knoll Phebe often watched this place, while her father, with a lad
+in his employ, completed their work about the barn. When the
+shadows deepened, all was made as secure as possible without and
+within, and the sturdy farmer, after committing himself and his
+household to the Divine protection, slept as only brave men sleep
+who are clear in conscience and accustomed to danger.
+
+His faith was undoubtedly rewarded; but Providence in the
+execution of its will loves to use vigilant human eyes and ready,
+loving hands. The guardian angel destined to protect the good man
+was his blooming daughter Phebe, who had never thought of herself
+as an angel, and indeed rarely thought of herself at all, as is
+usually the case with those who do most to sweeten and brighten
+the world. She was a natural, wholesome, human child, with all a
+child's unconsciousness of self. She knew she could not protect
+her father like a great stalwart son, but she could watch and warn
+him of danger, and as the sequel proved, she could do far more.
+
+The farmer's habits were well known, and the ruffians of the
+mountains were aware that after he had shut himself in he was much
+like Noah in his ark. If they attempted to burn him out, the
+flames would bring down upon them a score of neighbors not
+hampered by Quaker principles. Therefore they resolved upon a
+sudden onslaught before he had finished the evening labors of the
+farm. This was what the farmer feared; and Phebe, like a vigilant
+outpost, was now never absent from her place of observation until
+called in.
+
+One spring evening she saw two mounted men descending one of the
+roads which led from the mountains. Instead of jogging quietly out
+on the highway, as ordinary travellers would have done, they
+disappeared among the trees. Soon afterward she caught a glimpse
+of two other horsemen on the second mountain road. One of these
+soon came into full view, and looked up and down as if to see that
+all was clear. Apparently satisfied, he gave a low whistle, when
+three men joined him. Phebe waited to see no more, but sped toward
+the house, her flaxen curls flying from her flushed and excited
+face.
+
+"They are coming, father! Thee must be quick!" she cried.
+
+But a moment or two elapsed before all were within the dwelling,
+the doors banged and barred, the heavy shutters closed, and the
+home-fortress made secure. Phebe's warning had come none too soon,
+for they had scarcely time to take breath before the tramp of
+galloping horses and the oaths of their baffled foes were heard
+without. The marauders did not dare make much noise, for fear that
+some passing neighbor might give the alarm. Tying their horses
+behind the house, where they would be hidden from the road, they
+tried various expedients to gain an entrance, but the logs and
+heavy planks baffled them. At last one of the number suggested
+that they should ascend the roof and climb down the wide flue of
+the chimney. This plan was easy of execution, and for a few
+moments the stout farmer thought that his hour had come. With a
+heroism far beyond that of the man who strikes down his assailant,
+he prepared to suffer all things rather than take life with his
+own hands.
+
+But his wife proved equal to this emergency. She had been making
+over a bed, and a large basket of feathers was within reach. There
+were live coals on the hearth, but they did not give out enough
+heat to prevent the ruffians from descending. Two of them were
+already in the chimney, and were threatening horrible vengeance if
+the least resistance was offered. Upon the coals on the hearth the
+housewife instantly emptied her basket of feathers; and a great
+volume of pungent, stifling smoke poured up the chimney. The
+threats of the men, who by means of ropes were cautiously
+descending, were transformed into choking, half-suffocated sounds,
+and it was soon evident that the intruders were scrambling out as
+fast as possible. A hurried consultation on the roof ensued, and
+then, as if something had alarmed them, they galloped off. With
+the exception of the cries of the peepers, or hylas, in an
+adjacent swamp, the night soon grew quiet around the closed and
+darkened dwelling. Farmer Reynolds bowed in thanksgiving over
+their escape, and then after watching a few hours, slept as did
+thousands of others in those times of anxiety.
+
+But Phebe did not sleep. She grew old by moments that night as do
+other girls by months and years; as never before she understood
+that her father's life was in peril. How much that life meant to
+her and the little brood of which she was the eldest! How much it
+meant to her dear mother, who was soon again to give birth to a
+little one that would need a father's protection and support! As
+the young girl lay in her little attic room, with dilated eyes and
+ears intent on the slightest sound, she was ready for any heroic
+self-sacrifice, without once dreaming that she was heroic.
+
+The news of the night-attack spread fast, and there was a period
+of increased vigilance which compelled the outlaws to lie close in
+their mountain fastnesses. But Phebe knew that her father's
+enemies were still at large with their hate only stimulated
+because baffled for a time. Therefore she did not in the least
+relax her watchfulness; and she besought their nearest neighbors
+to come to their assistance should any alarm be given.
+
+When the spring and early summer passed without further trouble,
+they all began to breathe more freely, but one July night John
+Reynolds was betrayed by his patriotic impulses. He was awakened
+by a loud knocking at his door. Full of misgiving, he rose and
+hastily dressed himself: Phebe, who had slipped on her clothes at
+the first alarm, joined him and said earnestly:
+
+"Don't thee open the door, father, to anybody, at this time of
+night;" and his wife, now lying ill and helpless on a bed in the
+adjoining room, added her entreaty to that of her daughter. In
+answer, however, to Mr. Reynolds's inquiries a voice from without,
+speaking quietly and seemingly with authority, asserted that they
+were a squad from Washington's forces in search of deserters, and
+that no harm would ensue unless he denied their lawful request.
+Conscious of innocence, and aware that detachments were often
+abroad on such authorized quests, Mr. Reynolds unbarred his door.
+The moment he opened it he saw his terrible error; not soldiers,
+but the members of the mountain gang, were crouched like wild
+beasts ready to spring upon him.
+
+"Fly, father!" cried Phebe. "They won't hurt us;" but before the
+bewildered man could think what to do, the door flew open from the
+pressure of half a dozen wild-looking desperadoes, and he was
+powerless in their grasp. They evidently designed murder, but not
+a quick and merciful "taking off"; they first heaped upon their
+victim the vilest epithets, seeking in their thirst for revenge to
+inflict all the terrors of death in anticipation. The good man,
+however, now face to face with his fate, grew calm and resigned.
+Exasperated by his courage, they began to cut and torture him with
+their swords and knives. Phebe rushed forward to interpose her
+little form between her father and the ruffians, and was dashed,
+half stunned, into a corner of the room. Even for the sake of his
+sick wife, the brave farmer could not refrain from uttering groans
+of anguish which brought the poor woman with faltering steps into
+his presence. After one glance at the awful scene she sank, half
+fainting, on a settee near the door.
+
+When the desire for plunder got the better of their fiendish
+cruelty, one of the gang threw a noosed rope over Mr. Reynolds's
+head, and then they hanged him to the trammel or iron hook in the
+great chimney.
+
+"You can't smoke us out this time," they shouted. "You've now got
+to settle with the avengers of Claudius Smith; and you and some
+others will find us ugly customers to settle with."
+
+They then rushed off to rob the house, for the farmer was reputed
+to have not a little money in his strong box. The moment they were
+gone Phebe seized a knife and cut her father down. Terror and
+excitement gave her almost supernatural strength, and with the aid
+of the boy in her father's service she got the poor man on a bed
+which he had occupied during his wife's illness. Her reviving
+mother was beginning to direct her movements when the ruffians
+again entered; and furious with rage, they again seized and hanged
+her father, while one, more brutal than the others, whipped the
+poor child with a heavy rope until he thought she was disabled.
+The girl at first cowered and shivered under the blows, and then
+sank as if lifeless on the floor. But the moment she was left to
+herself she darted forward and once more cut her father down. The
+robbers then flew upon the prostrate man and cut and stabbed him
+until they supposed he was dead. Toward his family they meditated
+a more terrible and devilish cruelty. After sacking the house and
+taking all the plunder they could carry, they relieved the horror-
+stricken wife and crying, shrieking children of their presence.
+Their further action, however, soon inspired Phebe with a new and
+more awful fear, for she found that they had fastened the doors on
+the outside and were building a fire against one of them.
+
+For a moment an overpowering despair at the prospect of their fate
+almost paralyzed her. She believed her father was dead. The boy
+who had aided her at first was now dazed and helpless from terror.
+If aught could be done in this supreme moment of peril she saw
+that it must be done by her hands. The smoke from the kindling
+fire without was already curling in through the crevices around
+the door. There was not a moment, not a second to be lost. The
+ruffians' voices were growing fainter and she heard the sounds of
+their horses' feet. Would they go away in time for her to
+extinguish the fire? She ran to her attic room and cautiously
+opened the shutter. Yes, they were mounting; and in the faint
+light of the late-rising moon she saw that they were taking her
+father's horses. A moment later, as if fearing that the blaze
+might cause immediate pursuit, they dashed off toward the
+mountains.
+
+The clatter of their horses' hoofs had not died away before the
+intrepid girl had opened the shutter of a window nearest the
+ground, and springing lightly out with a pail in her hand she
+rushed to the trough near the barn, which she knew was full of
+water. Back and forth she flew between the fire and the convenient
+reservoir with all the water that her bruised arms and back
+permitted her to carry. Fortunately the night was a little damp,
+and the stout thick door had kindled slowly. To her intense joy
+she soon gained the mastery of the flames, and at last
+extinguished them.
+
+She did not dare to open the door for fear that the robbers might
+return, but clambering in at the window, made all secure as had
+been customary, for now it was her impulse to do just as her
+father would have done.
+
+She found her mother on her knees beside her father, who would
+indeed have been a ghastly and awful object to all but the eyes of
+love.
+
+"Oh, Phebe, I hope--I almost believe thy father lives!" cried the
+woman. "Is it my throbbing palm, or does his heart still beat?"
+
+"I'm sure it beats, mother!" cried the girl, putting her little
+hand on the gashed and mangled body.
+
+"Oh, then there's hope! Here, Abner," to the boy, "isn't there any
+man in thee? Help Phebe get him on the bed, and then we must stop
+this awful bleeding. Oh, that I were well and strong! Phebe, thee
+must now take my place. Thee may save thy father's life. I can
+tell thee what to do if thee has the courage."
+
+Phebe had the courage and with deft hands did her mother's
+bidding. She stanched the many gaping wounds; she gave spirits at
+first drop by drop, until at last the man breathed and was
+conscious. Even before the dawn began to brighten over the dreaded
+Highlands which their ruthless enemies were already climbing,
+Phebe was flying, bare-headed, across the fields to their nearest
+neighbor. The good people heard of the outrage with horror and
+indignation. A half-grown lad sprang on the bare back of a young
+horse and galloped across the country for a surgeon. A few moments
+later the farmer, equipped for chase and battle, dashed away at
+headlong pace to alarm the neighborhood. The news sped from house
+to house and hamlet to hamlet like fire in prairie grass. The sun
+had scarcely risen before a dozen bronzed and stern-browed men
+were riding into John Reynolds's farm-yard under the lead of young
+Hal June--the best shot that the wars had left in the region. The
+surgeon had already arrived, and before he ceased from his labors
+he had dressed thirty wounds.
+
+The story told by Phebe had been as brief as it was terrible--for
+she was eager to return to her father and sick mother. She had not
+dreamed of herself as the heroine of the affair, and had not given
+any such impression, although more than one had remarked that she
+was "a plucky little chick to give the alarm before it was light."
+But when the proud mother faintly and tearfully related the
+particulars of the tragedy, and told how Phebe had saved her
+father's life and probably her mother's--for, "I was too sick to
+climb out of a window," she said; when she told how the child
+after a merciless whipping had again cut her father down from the
+trammel-hook, had extinguished the fire, and had been nursing her
+father back to life, while all the time in almost agony herself
+from the cruel blows that had been rained upon her--Phebe was
+dazed and bewildered at the storm of applause that greeted her.
+And when the surgeon, in order to intensify the general desire for
+vengeance, showed the great welts and scars on her arms and neck,
+gray-bearded fathers who had known her from infancy took her into
+their arms and blessed and kissed her. For once in his life young
+Hal June wished he was a gray-beard, but his course was much more
+to the mind of Phebe than any number of caresses would have been.
+Springing on his great black horse, and with his dark eyes burning
+with a fire that only blood could quench, he shouted:
+
+"Come, neighbors, it's time for deeds. That brave little woman
+ought to make a man of every mother's son of us;" and he dashed
+away so furiously that Phebe thought with a strange little tremor
+at her heart that he might in his speed face the robbers all
+alone. The stout yeomen clattered after him; the sound of their
+pursuit soon died away; and Phebe returned to woman's work of
+nursing, watching, and praying.
+
+The bandits of the hills, not expecting such prompt retaliation,
+were overtaken, and then followed a headlong race over the rough
+mountain roads--guilty wretches flying for life, and stern men
+almost reckless in the burning desire to avenge a terrible wrong.
+Although the horses of the marauders were tired, their riders were
+so well acquainted with the fastnesses of the wilderness that they
+led the pursuers through exceedingly difficult and dangerous
+paths. At last, June ever in the van, caught sight of a man's
+form, and almost instantly his rifle awoke a hundred echoes among
+the hills. When they reached the place, stains of blood marked the
+ground, proving that at least a wound had been given. Just beyond,
+the gang evidently had dispersed, each one for himself, leaving
+behind everything that impeded their progress. The region was
+almost impenetrable in its wildness except by those who knew all
+its rugged paths. The body of the man whom June had wounded,
+however, was found, clothed in a suit of Quaker drab stolen from
+Mr. Reynolds. The rest of the band with few exceptions met with
+fates that accorded with their deeds.
+
+Phebe had the happiness of nursing her father back to health, and
+although maimed and disfigured, he lived to a ripe old age. If the
+bud is the promise of the flower, Phebe must have developed a
+womanhood that was regal in its worth; at the same time I believe
+that she always remained a modest, demure little Quakeress, and
+never thought of her virtues except when reminded of them in plain
+English.
+
+NOTE--In the preceding narrative I have followed almost literally
+a family tradition of events which actually occurred.
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Taken Alive, by E. P. Roe
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