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diff --git a/5320.txt b/5320.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..70b2c1e --- /dev/null +++ b/5320.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12747 @@ +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. 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