OF CALIF. LIBRARY, LOS ANGELES > 'HIM V- \ I)| , | , | |V|.. THE ROCKANOCK STAGE BY GEORGE HUNTINGTON Author ui' " .\ "akonia" " Kin^s tnnt Cupbearers" etc. BOSTON' AND rincAC',0 anTi IJufaliefjtng: COPYRIGHT, 1896, in ( <>M,i:> (iATIONAL SCNDAY-S. 1IOOL. AND I'UULISHINU SOCIETY. CHAPTER PAGE I. SAINT VFI.CCIIS AM> TIIF. DWARF .... 5 II. <;I:IM SEE-; AN A.M.II 17 III. SUNDAY THEATRICALS 35 IV. Tin; MERRY BOND 49 V. Tin: Km KANOCK STAGE 58 VI. THE GRKY HORSE IN A BROWN STUDY . . 75 VII. MR. MACWHISKERS 94 VIII. SATURDAY NIGHT 108 IX. A HOMK THRUST . . . . , 120 X. PAGAN OR CHRISTIAN 131 XI. ON EXHIBITION 142 XII. THE Ro( KiiY MAIL 152 XIII. OUR OWN < OI:RI>I'ONDI:MS 164 XIV. MM.ENDID Sin i- 178 XV. SAIIKI: AND SINCERITY 190 XVI. PORTIA AND BASSAXIO 201 XVII. THE Xi:w Ciiunt 216 XVIII. THE OITWAY TRACT 233 XIX. THE < IIAIIMS OF SUM II-DF. 249 XX. A SI-M i: OF MERCY 2G8 XXI. A SI-IEI: OF CHARITY 281 XXII. BETTER A< (^TAIN TA.M i: 2% XXIII. I'M ON lol- KVANliF.I.ISM 310 XXIV. A REVIVAL OF CHIVALRY 322 XXV. A Oi -FS'iiox OF HONOR 334 XXVI. Dr-Ti-AN Piiii.osoi'iiY 347 XXVII. AN ODD I>I:TF.< II\K 359 XXVIII. Ax KA-I \\I.\D 372 XXIX. MoNDAYISIINES.S as3 2130174 4 CO v/v-:.vy\. ( II A PAGE ,\\\. A SI-AUK OK TKOPICAL HEAT 397 \.\\l. A Tin. M.I. u CLOUD 410 XXXII. Tin: -n.\ i i: I'm IIKR 425 \X\lIl. TII.K< IN im: Ai i AII:^ 01 .MKN 441 \\.\1V. r.M>KU llli: (iKAl'KN INK 452 \\.\V. Mi:. >I\ MVS...N 47 \\.\VI. Tin: I'.I.ACK (JiAM- 479 \\'\VII. Nit;nr ON mi: JKUICIIO ROAD 496 \\\\lll. A Niu (, (1 -i'KL 512 XX XIX. orr>n>r. AND J.\SII>K 529 XL. CoN( i.i SIO.N . . 543 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. CHAPTER I. SAINT VELUCIUS AND THE DWARF. I WILL tell you a story of village life at the West a story of the fields and the woods, of pleas- ant homes, of real folks, and of simple country ways. The path to this rural paradise leads, of course, through Chicago, where we must be briefly detained, while we find some of the people whom it concerns us to know. It was on a Friday evening in May, 1871, and, ac- cording to the dial on the courthouse tower, consid- erably past six o'clock. The occupants of the Gibson Block lawyers, brokers, and the like had left their oflices, scattering here and there on street cars and suburban trains, with the exception of one belated tenant, who was at this moment descending the stairs. He svas a lean, angular man, perhaps forty years old, with a leathery face, slightly stooping shoulders, and a dress rather inclining to rustim-ss. lie held in his hand six or eight letters, freshly prepared for the 5 THE nOCKANOCK STAGE. mail, the writing of which might be assumed to have caused his tardy departure. On the landing below squatted tin- little old hunchback janitor, with his and his brush, giving the stairs an ostensible scrubbing. " Good night, naughty old (irira ! " said the tenant, stepping over the sprawling figure. " Good night, holy Saint Velucius ! " answered the dwarf, without looking up from his suds. He knew the dusty boots and the half-yard of brown trousers of which he had a glimpse under his eyebrows ; and he very well knew the dry, brassy voice of V. Lucius Pack, Esq., tenant of No. 43, third floor, irreverently nicknamed Velucius. Perhaps it was because he knew him so well, per- haps because he wished some further knowledge, that the artful dwarf, though he had seemed to take no notice of the passing tenant, immediately turned to watch him, squatting on all fours like a deformed frog, and indulging in some special contortions of the si|ue fai-e whieh had won for him the sobriquet of (irimskull. The truth is that Grim was making a special study of Mr. Pack, about some of whose movements there had been of late a fascinating mystery. An unex- plained visitor had been often at No. 43 ; a younger man than Pack, and handsomer, "too handsome for SAL\T VE LUCIUS AXD THE DWARF. 7 any use," Grim had said to himself, and with such a beard, so black and glossy, and of such phenomenal length as Grim felt to be an actual impertinence. The two men had frequent meetings in 43, often at night. Moreover, that old scoundrel Krauutz, the Jew broker, had been there twice within a week. He had made previous visits, to be sure, but never two in a week, and night visits at that ! And then there was the affair of Major Gibson's envelope, which, as the reader himself must admit, -omething not to be lightly passed over. Major Gibson was the owner of the block, a rich old bachelor. Fisk & Willis, Xo. 29, were his attorneys. What had Pack to do with his affairs? If the major hud ridden over in a hack, as he always did when he came to the block, and had gone up to 29, and the driver had found a big law envelope in the carriage, and had brought it to the foot of the stairs and called Grim to come and fetch it, and Pack had chanced to come in at the moment, why should he take charge of the envelope and offer to deliver it? Was he a man to do people's errands for nothing? And why did he look so sharply at the endorsement on the back of the envelope? And why did he find it necessary to visit his own oflice before delivering the envelope to its owiu-r? And, most of all, why did he examine the document which it enclosed, and make notes of its 8 THE HOCKAXOCK STACK. contents, as Grim had plainly seen him do through the keyhole? Why, also, had the envelope incident been followed so closely by the advent of the long-bearded stranger and the night sessions in No. 43? How did r (iibson's movements happen to become so sud- denly interesting to Mr. Pack? and what reference had it all to the beautiful lady who had recently been once or twice with the landlord to the block? And finally, what had kept Mr. Pack in his office this very night an hour beyond his usual time, making it neces- for the janitor to devise and protract disagreeable occupations for the sake of watching him? Such were the (juestions which forced themselves upon the mind of the ingenious Grim, who was so old-fashioned as to suppose that every effect must have a cause. while Mr. Pack, all unconscious of surveil- lance, had paused on the outside steps, showing un- mistakable signs of perplexity. He dropped hi^head, knitted his brow, pouted his lips, stroked his chin, and finally sauntered slowly away as if in profound meditation. " It 's something deep, isn't it, Velucius?" chuckled i under his breath, " but I '11' get to the bottom of it. you shall see; and the deeper the better, I say;" and the faithful janitor moved his suds to the outer -, and continued his twofold occupation. Reaching the mail box at the street corner, a few SAIXT VE LUCIUS AXD THE DWARF. steps away, Mr. Pack deposited his letters, one by one, till he came to the last. This was unsealed. He turned it over in his hand, scanned the superscription, made sure that the proper enclosure was within, and was in the act of bringing the gummed margin to his lips when he was saluted by a voice from the inter- secting street. " Rest you fair, good signior ! " The voice was as unmistakable as Pack's own, though the very antithesis of it low, smooth, purry, and deliberate. The salutation was evidently a pleasant surprise to Mr. Pack, who quickly turned to meet the speaker, and returned the greeting according to its own humor. My Lord Bassanio, heaven rest you fair ! In other words, Mack, how are you?" and the two men shook hands. " It 's that whisker feller," muttered Grim. " Mack, that's Scotch or Irish. And Bassanio, that's Spanish or 7-tal-yun. I knew he was some sort o' forriner." "Why, Mack, this is a miracle!" continued Mr. Pack. "See here, I was just mailing this letter to you. You've saved me a postage stamp." " It is the first dividend on your investment," re- sponded the other. " And, as Master Launcelot Gobbo would say, ' Ac- conliug to fates and destinies, the sisters three and Id THE branches of learning,' signifies no doubt that our enterprise is t<> iit of irony; but I will give you better evidence than that before you are many days older." "On such a subject information will always be gratefully mvivt-d." " Could you bear a little, now? " Vh'LUCIUS AXD THE DWARF. 11 " If not too heartrending, yes." " I think you would find it rather exhilarating." " Then, pray, let us walk on while you are giving it. If I were to be overcome with hilarity, I would rather be arrested as a procession than as a mass meeting." So the two men strolled away, crossing to the court- house side of the street, where the walk was almost deserted at that hour of the evening, and, compassing two sides of the square, passed on in the direction of the 'Fremont House. The talking was chiefly on the part of Mr. Pack. His auditor listened with more noncommittal nods, occasionally interrupting with a word of comment or interrogation, and, as he walked, absently tore the letter in his hand and dropped it shred by shred along the street. " You see, Pack," he was saying as they reached the Lake Street entrance of the hotel, "well I .suppose I am what they call old-fogyish about some tilings. I have been pretty strictly brought up; and e-pecially in an affair of this kind, unless my con- srit nee was satisfied Hut pshaw ! what's the use of preaching to you? You are just as conscientious as I am, I know that." "Thank you, Mack; I don't think my piety is a bore to anybody ; but I mean to be on the square, and I like a square man for a client, that 's a fact. Can't 12 THE JiOCKAXOCK STAGE.' always get 'etn, you know. Have to take 'era as they come. But it is a satisfaction to find a man that's- all conscience, like you. You have rooms here, I L'.toms? Yes, I have the dining room and the billiard room and the corridors and the parlors and tin- elevator, and oh. y.-> : a fourth-floor bachelor's cage. Let me show it to you." Not to-night, thank you. There is a little domestic bliss awaiting me on the North Side. Before many days we shall, I hope, put you in the way to obtain as much and considerable more." " I am not so very .-anguine about that, old boy." "So much the better then." I', '-.uise I shall get the blessing of the man who expects nothing?" N<>. of the man who is happily disappointed." So they went their several ways, the one to the hotel el. vator and the other to a North Side car. Meantime Grim had been busy in his own unique bnt not altogether with janitor work. Of tho conversation at the street corner he had caught only an occasional word ; but by this, and still more by his failure to understand the rest, his suspicions were increased and his curiosity was intensified. He was now perfectly certain that it was something deep, and that he should get to the bottom of it. No sooner SAINT VELUCIUS AXD THE DWARF. 13 had Pack and his client turned the next corner, there- fore, than Grim was on their track. He soon had the envelope out of the gutter and, putting the two pieces together, read the superscription : ALLAN MAC ALLAN, Esq., Tremont House, City. " So that 's your name, Mr. Blackbeard ! Or is it only your ailyus? Which.? " Without waiting to solve this question, he pocketed the envelope and hurried on to secure the fragments of the letter itself. The route which his victims had followed was especially favorable to his purpose. The tearing had tukeu place on the broad and nearly deserted walk around the courthouse square ; and it was comparatively easy not only to find most of the pieces, but even to see where the last of them had fallen. One by one the little goblin gathered them, hopping here and there in his froggish fashion, dodging an occasional pedestrian, paying no heed to the stare of the policeman or to the chaff of the street Arabs. Having reached the end of the trail he turned back, going over his ground more carefully still, and search- ing crevices and corners for minute pieces which had escaped him before. Arrived with his booty at the block, he secured a piece of wrapping paper and a 1 1 7 7//-: A'orAM.Yor/r STAs to a handsome old millionaire, and implied a very different state of feeling. Yet, in truth, the landlord's feeling was as unex- ceptionable as the janitor's. To him his ward was neither a goddess nor an angel, but a very charming young woman, of whose attractions he somehow felt himself to be the creator. What she was she owed largely, far more largely than she now suspected, to his oversight. His pride in her was pride in his own achievement. All that was noble and generous in him had been drawn out toward this girl. For seven years she had been to him as his own daughter. Had she lufii really so, he could not have bestowed more thought upon her welfare ; he could not have watched her with more solicitude ; he could not have felt greater exultation at what she had become. Every day he said in his fond, old heart, " Is not this the fair womanhood which I have builded?" GRIM SEES AX ANGEL. 25 Moses Darling Lad been Mr. Gibson's dearest friend. As young men in pursuit of fortune, they had met in Chicago, away back in the thirties, and had seen together the ups and downs of the marvelous city. They were thrifty, steady-going young fellows, and though possessing no extraordinary business ability, were iu course of time reckoned among the prosperous men of the town. They never were part- ners, and superstitiously avoided the slightest business relation with each other, lest it should mar their friend- ship; though either of them would cheerfully have given the other his last dollar in case of need. On a certain day Darling returned from an Eastern visit, bringing a bride with him, a lovely girl with hair and eyes like Lucy's, and as devoutly believed, by one admirer at least, to be an angeU On another day a black-bordered letter came to Gibson, telling him with words all blurred with tears that his angel was beyond the stars. The Darlings took the stricken man to their little cottage by the lake, and he became from that day an inseparable part of their domestic life. The children almost grew up in his arms, and the graves where three of them were laid were wet with his tears as were no other graves, save one. In the crash of 1857 Darling was driven to the brink of ruin. True to the old superstition, he would 26 THE ROCKANOCK STAKE. not borrow of Gibson ; but it was Gibson who secretly furnished the security which kept his credit good and carried him through the crisis. When the war broke out, both men, though past fifty, were eager to enter the army. They had been officers in the old City Artillery, and had the spirit and the training for the service. It was agreed be- tween them, however, that only one of them could be spared from home, and Gibson being a family man only by brevet, claimed the right to go. The point was sharply contested between them, till Gibson one day put a sudden stop to the dispute by showing his uniform and commission. He went out a captain and came back a major. There were four at the cottage to grieve at the CM plain's departure. There were only two to rejoice at the major's return. An enemy against whom there are no defenders had entered the pretty home by the lakeside. The major had hastened for his furlough on the receipt of the first news of the deadly attack, and had sp.-d toward Chicago as fast as horses and rail- - could carry him. But the fever made yet more awful haste, and he arrived only to find two heart- broken girls, fatherless and motherless, now left to his sole care. So the f nloiigh was followed l, v a -nation, and he became in some solemn sense a father by brevet. GRIM SEES AN ANGEL. 27 The girls were not as they were in the old, happy days before he went away. Helen, the older of the two, whom he had left at sweet sixteen, was already a woman. Her betrothal to young Dr. Ashley had been announced to the major, as a family secret, a few weeks before. But the beautiful miracle of womanhood that had been wrought in her, and the womanly grace and wisdom with which it had clothed her, filled him with wonder. Lucy, the younger sister, seemed much plainer at twelve than she had been at eight. " She is going to be a homely woman," he said to himself, "and I rather incline to l>e glad of it, if I have got to play father to the poor thing. There '11 be less danger for her and less trouble for me." The estate, as he had expected, was in a bad way. Indeed, it was at the next remove from bankruptcy. For this the major cared but little, as he had enough for them all. He even looked upon it as a mercy, as he had on Lucy's plainness. It simplified the situa- tion. Lucy was a sweet, affectionate child, with a high regard for the major. Free from the perils of beauty and fortune, and constrained by her sister's example and her mother's memory, she might, he thought, make a woman worthy of them all. He took no counsel of the fathers and mothers of his acquaintance, having a very poor opinion of their 28 THE ROCKANOCK success as trainers of the young. But be freely con- sulted the girls themselves, and still more freely his own common sense. Certain things were clear to him. The standard for means and expenditures must be that to which the girls were accustomed, which, as he knew, was that of easy respectability, removed alike from luxury and from poverty. They must have the lea>t occasion possible to think about money, or to be sensi- ble of either its scarcity or its abundance. This in- volved, of course, the devotion of his own property to their support ; but of that they must know nothing, lie would not begin his difficult task by destroying the self-respect of his wards. They should never know that they were dependent upon him except for affection and counsel. Having learned, partly from Helen, and partly from her father's accounts, what amount was necessary to carry out his plan, he contrived to have the estate yield precisely that amount. Some inconvertible property he- bought for cash. Some worthless stocks he took at a handsome figure. For the rest he resorted to the simple plan of giving his own note, payable to Darling antedating them a year or more, as the case required, making himself appear as a debtor to the estate. The girls, who had been prepared by their father for a great diminution of income, found themselves comfortably provided for ; and the major was warmly congratulated SEES AX AXGEL. 29 by his business acquaintances upon his success in sav- ing the wreck of Darling's fortune. Helen married her doctor, and they settled in a pleasant country town, of which we shall hear a good deal in the course of our story. Lucy was sent to an Eastern school, of which her mother had been a graduate. The major visited her once or twice a year, and at each visit found fresh reason for gratification. She was not a brilliant scholar, for which he was thankful ; but she was some- how gaining a development of mind and character with which he was delighted. At the same time the plainness which had once been such a relief to his mind became less conspicuous year by year, and at last conspicuously wanting. The miracle of woman- hood was even more marvelous in her than in Helen. If there was any peril in beauty, she was evidently destined to meet it. In the mean time the major's looks also had im- proved somewhat, and his fortune very much indeed. He was called a millionaire; though if the term be strictly used, it would need discounting at least one half. At any rate he had money enough and to spare, and had well determined, as men of sixty should, what was to become of it when he was gone. The Tremont House had long been his home, where, being a prepossessing bachelor, and a reputed million- aire, he fared sumptuously every day, and was courted 30 THE 1WCK.\\<>< l< as an amiable and virtuous potentate by the regular boarders. His matrimonial chances were still good. A charming widow was openly charged with having set her cap for him, and not less than five mammas of marriageable daughters were thought to have designs upon him. But the major was proof against all their arts. His foolip.li old heart had one idol ouly, his ward, his pride, his miracle of womanhood, Lucy Darling. When she came back to him, so beautiful, so* refined, so accomplished yet so simple-hearted, and with all her old love for him unabated, his cup was full. He in- stalled her in the best suite of rooms that the house afforded. lie abjured his faith in the virtues of home- liness. He exulted in every grace and charm, and praised her and petted her in a way that she found delightfully embarrassing. Her relation to him was still as purely filial as it had been in her childhood. She could not remember when it had not been so. She could not imagine it ex- changed for any other relation whatever; neither could he. Yet a great change had come over it, owing to the change in herself. She was no longer a child ; she was a woman. The merry romp, the ready kiss, the clinging caress of the girl were no more. But in their place were naive womanly ways, as un- studied and as unconscious as they, and expressing r,lUM SEES AX ANGEL. 31 through all their pretty decorum a greater intensity of gratitude ami affection. Lucy's stay in Chicago was for a brief visit only. Her home for the present was to be with Helen at Kockby, ami the sisters were eager to be together again after the seven years' separation. The major had bargained with Helen for leave to keep Lucy one week. " I can amuse her that long," he had said in his letter; "and while I am showing her the new lions of her native city, she will be getting better acquainted with the old bear that brought her up." " I do not take much interest in the lions," wrote Lucy a few days later, " but the bear -is delightful." She had never found him more agreeable than on the morning of her encounter with Grim, and had never herself been more bewitching. The brisk ride northward, past the green lanes, and under the bud- ding trees ; around the shore drive, where the ice drifts had but just disappeared on the sands; through the park, redolent of faint spring odors, and back through the long avenues, in the face of the warm, south wind, quickened the old major's blood, and heightened the charms of the little beauty beside him. When be extended his hands to help her from the carriage, at the hotel entrance, she put both her own in them, sprang lightly to the ground, and still holding him fast, lifted a glowing face toward his. 32 Till: /.or/.M.YOrA' STAC!-:. "Oh, I thank you so much !" she said. "It has been such a delightful ride; and you are the dearest major in the world ! " " Then why do you steal my speeches right out of my mouth? " said he, pretending to scold her. " You knew I was just going to pay yon a similar compli- ment, and you would not allow me the satisfaction." The words were not audible to the group of ladies who chanced to be at that moment standing at the window of Mrs. Transington's room, ou the floor above ; but the look, the attitude, the momentary clinging together of the two pairs of hands, could not fail to be noted, to the very last item. " There ! What do you call that, I should like to know!" cried Mrs. Transington. Mrs. Transingtou had a special reason for wishing it called a love scene. " Call it ! " said Mrs. Whortle ; " why, I call it just what it is, my dear nothing at all; that is, nothing significant. You may see Louise, here, part from her father in the same way, any day, may n't she, Louise? Any stranger would take them for father and daugh- ter, and so they are, in everything but blood." Mr*. Whortlc was reputed to desire the major as a son-in-law. This was Mrs. Transington's special reason for wishing to prove him the lover of his ward. >-AT.V .i.v ^IAYVA'L. 33 "Father and daughter! Oh, Mrs. Whortle ! " laughed she; "what a dear, matter-of-fact soul you are ! Why, you would n't recognize Cupid himself if you saw him, wings, arrows, and all; now would you?" At that moment a brisk step was heard in the 'hall, and Lucy paused at the door on her way to her own rooms, her face still glowing with excitement and pleasure. k * May I come in? " she asked. "Indeed you shall," said Mrs. Transington, "and go down on your knees to us, for stealing the heart of our precious major. Come, will you do it? " "And promise never, never to speak to him again?" added Mrs. Whortle. " Then we will give you some of our bonbons." " And tell you some nice gossip," said Mrs. Traus- ington. " And praise your pretty spring suit," said Louise. " Praises and bonbons I will take," answered Lucy gayly. " and go on my knees for them if you wish ; but my own true love I will not abjure." In vain the others scanned her merry face for the faintest sign of embarrassment, either then or while she was describing the ride, with plentiful reference to her guardian. She could "dear major" him with the best of them without a blush. 34 THE XOCKANOCK STAGE. From this the ladies drew opposite conclusions, as good logicians may always do from any given premise. It might mean that there was nothing between them ; and it might mean that it was an affair of long standing. "What did I tell you?" said Mrs. Trausington after Lucy had gone. " What did I tell you?" said Mrs. Whortle. CHAPTER III. SUNDAY THEATRICALS. angel's visit which had so glorified Grim's -*~ Saturday did not make him forget the enter- tainment to which he had invited himself on Sunday, nor neglect necessary arrangements for securing his private box as he had proposed* No. 43 had originally been twice its present size. For the convenience of a former tenant it had been divided into two compartments by a thin wooden partition. To meet the economical views of Mr. Pack, one half had been leased to him separately, the pas- sage between being closed by an ill-fitting door, now made worse fitting through shrinkage. The remaining half, which Grim called 43 Jr., had not rented readily and was now empty. Across the partition door stood a movable closet without a back. This was the private box which the dwarf had promised himself at the approaching enter- tainment. Perhaps he had had previous experience of its convenience. .At any rate, it was exactly to his mind. Having thrown an old carpet over the top, he could shut himself into perfect darkness, while the ill- fitting door was a most convenient medium through to :;; Tin: ROCK AX OCR which to see a little and hear much of what interested him on the other side of the partition. It was the next brst thing to being invisibly present in No. 43, and iKibh-d him to discharge what he considered his solemn dntv in tliis business with comfort and success. From a habit of punctuality and for other reasons, he was prompt in his attendance. Indeed, he had bi-.-n moiv than half an hour in his box before he hoard Mr. Pack's latchkey in the door of 43. '- Come in. Velucius ! " whispered Grim softly. " Come in and tell us about Belmont, 'n' the doocats, 'n' the major's envelope, 'n' all the rest of it." Mr. Pack came in, closed the door quietly, as if afraid of waking the baby, sniffed the air, opened the window, relit the cigar in his mouth, and began pacing the room. " Savin' over his part, I s'pose," said Grim's lips inaudil'ly. C rim was mistaken. The exercise in progress was not a rehearsal ; it was an argument in court. Coun- sellor at the bar, V. Lucius Pack, Esq. ; plaintiff and defendant, ditto; judge, ditto; opposing counsel, ditto. Point at issue, to determine whether the self- respect of the said plaintiff had suffered any abatement, loss, detriment, or damage through the course of the defendant in the matter of one certain Allan MacAllan. The case was closely contested, but the SUXDAY THEATRICALS. 37 defendant seemed to be getting the best of it. Out- side of this tribunal a general impression prevailed that the defendant had no self-respect. Mr. Pack was a lawyer of considerable practice, but, unfortunately, a good deal of it was of a sort against which the public was prejudiced. His clients were often de- nounced as sharpers, and occasionally as swindlers and scoundrels, and it is easy to confuse client and counsel. If a man wished to evade the payment of his debts, he retained Mr. Pack. If a dishonest bank- ruptcy were to be attempted, Mr. Pack was relied upon. If a land pirate wished to put a cloud upon a title or perpetrate any profitable fraud, Mr. Pack was available as counsel and often, it was alleged, as part- ner in the profits. His fellow lawyers called him a shyster ; others denominated him according to their own opinions of him or their familiarity with impre- catory terms. Yet Mr. Pack was really very scrupulous. He would not have picked a man's pocket, or robbed him on the highway, or stolen a sheep or a chicken, or done anything that he could not reconcile with his conscience. If he was more successful than other men in bringing his conscience over to his side in doubtful cases, that proved his skill as an advocate. Thus far in his career he could honestly say that he had never lost his self-respect. Moreover he had a 38 THE ROCTKANOCK STAG!.'. most estimable wife, a church member, who furnished the religion of tin- family, and one of whose articles of /aith was that her dear V. Luc-ius was the best husband living and, lac-king one thing, the best con- ceivable. A man who had the approbation of his conscience and his wife, and sent his children regularly t<> Sunday-school, could afford to despise the opinions of his neighbors. The envelope which had been providentially thrown in his way, and which lie had thought it unprofessional to give up without examination, contained nothing else than Major (Alison's will, "Last Will and T> inent," as it called itself ; but until the death of the .tor, no will can certainly know whether it be the last or not. Among the provisions of this will was a bequest to Lucy Gibson Darling, daughter of Moses Darling, deceased, of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, with interest at five per cent, from the date of her majority, month and day being duly specified. . then, was a young woman, in effect already endowed with a handsome fortune. And here was V. I.uc-ius Pack. Ms.]., providentially in possession of the fact. Clearly the duty of the said Pack was to inquire why that knowledge had been thrust upon him, and what use he could make of it. Were he a single man but the supposition was useless and, to do him SfXDAY TIIL'ATHICALS. 39 justice, unwelcome. He would not exchange his pretty wife and babies for any heiress whatever ; certainly Dot for the chance of winning one. But could he not somehow levy a commission upon this fortune? As a lawyer it was his business to sell his knowledge to those who needed it. Could he not sell this? As a broker he negotiated bargains, pre- sumably benefiting all parties, including himself . Was there no chance to fulfill his benevolent mission here? Nay, was it not evident that, having been forced into the business, he was the chosen instrument for its execution? Let him only find a noble but impecuni- ous young man, confide the facts to him for a con- sideration, put him in the way to win this rich and doubtless otherwise eligible heiress, for a further con- sideration, and secure a final commission on the fortune when it shall have been won, and he will have -made two young hearts happy and one old purse somewhat heavier. To a man less sanguine than Mr. Pack, or less skill- ful in finding marketable material in every sort of document apparently irrelevant, all this would have seemed absurd. But to one who gained his livelihood by the accidents, and even the very humors of specu- lation it was a perfectly serious piece of business. As a part of that providence by which Mr. Pack seemed now to be borne along, there appeared upon 10 THE EOCKAXOCK STAGE. the scene at this critical juncture his old friend and kinsman, Allan MacAllan. His entree could not have been better timed in a fairy story or a drama. Mr. Mac Allan belonged to a once wealthy family in Mary- laud. His father left him a few thousands which he had kept mainly intact, but which were quite inade- quate to afford him that life of luxury which he desired. He had lived for several years in Washing- ton, had tried bis hand at politics, had held for a time an insignificant government office, had been rejected by two or three heiresses, and finally had come West, hoping to find fresh fields and better fortune. He had the manners of a gentleman, dressed faultlessly, and commonly thought to be handsome, a point freely conceded by himself. He also held firmly to the con- viction, in spite of his repeated jilts, that he had extraordinary ability to impress the female heart, and that with an artless and heart-free maiden and a fair chance to woo her, he would be irresistible. Of course he was a godsend to Mr. Pack, who had no sooner set eyes upon him than he saw the solution of the legacy business as clearly as if the young people were already married and he had his commission in his pocket. He was far too shrewd, however, to propose the matter to Mr. Mat-Allan. He knew the kind of man he had to deal with and meant that the proposition SUNDAY THEATRICALS. 41 should come from him. Providence again favored him by sending the major to the block at the right moment one morning, and marching him past the door of No. 43. "Who is that old Kaiser?" asked Mac All an ; "I saw him at the Tremont this morning." "That, don't you know? Of course you don't. Why, that 's our landlord, Major Gibson. I '11 intro- duce you to him when we get the right chance." " Owns this block, eh?" "This block? yes, and no end of other property. They say he 's worth a million or so ; I don't know." Mr. MacAllan began to be interested. u Introduce me, by all means," he said. " Any daughters, now?" Mr. Pack laughed. "Not exactly, Mack. He's an old bachelor." Mr. MacAllan's face fell. " What can an old bachelor do with a million dollars?" " Give it to his ward, I suppose, or something of that sort," said Pack carelessly. Mr. MacAllau's face rose again. "Aha! there's a ward, then? Fine or superfine?" "Superfine." " Marriageable?" " Rather ; what they call a sweet girl graduate, about eighteen or twenty, and reported to be uncom- monly bright and handsome." 42 TllK no<;KAXOCK STAGE. Where is she?" "Couldn't give her exact latitude and longi- tude, but somewhere between here and the Atlantic Ocean." " Coming this way?" " Coming this way, Mack, and expected in Chicago to-morrow." Mr. Pack had taken means to get the facts with great accuracy, though he feigned to be quite indifferent concerning them, while he piqued his friend's curiosity to the utmost. " Will the honorable gentleman question the witness any further?" he asked. " What ground had you for saying that her guardian would leave his property te her?" said MacAllan. " Let not the honorable gentleman try the fallacia jiJnrium interrogationum or any other pettifogging dodge on me," said Mr. Pack. " I made no such statement. I merely suggested the thing as possible." " Is that all you know about it? " " I cannot swear that it is." So the dialogue went on, until Mr. Pack confided to his friend, though protesting many misgivings, and yielding only under favor of the strongest friend- ship, that, in a confidential and strictly professional way, he knew that Miss Darling was to have a quarter of a million from her guardian, and that neither she nor the public had any suspicion of the fact. SUNDAY THEATRICALS. 43 " Good enough !" said MacAllan. "She does not know it ; therefore she will not be putting on airs. The public does not know it ; therefore there will not be a horde of mercenary suitors in the way. Do you know of any at all?" " N-n-n-o, not exactly what you may call a suitor, but" "But what?" \\ r ell, there 's a client of mine, a particular friend, to whom I 'm sort of committed ; at least he thinks so, I suppose. ' Pack,' said he, ' I want you to look me up a nice encumbered estate.' ' "Encumbered estate?" said MacAllan. "What did he want an encumbered estate for?" " Oh, that 's a name we have for the fortune of a marriageable woman. You are aware, no doubt, that that kind of property is regularly handled in the market, just like any other. Plenty of brokers do a big business in that -line. The woman, of course, isn't a party to the transaction, knows nothing of it, till some fine day a nice young man is introduced. Pupa thinks well of him ; mamma smiles upon him; society events conspire to throw them together. Acquaintance, courtship, proposal, engagement, mar- riage, follow in due order, and the happy man comes round at his convenience to settle with the broker who put him on the track, contrived the introductions, 44 THE ROCKAXOCK STA< supplied the parents with opinions, ami invisibly man- aged the whole affair." "You don't mean to tell me that such things are actually done ? " 1 1 You don't mean to tell rne that you never heard of it before? Come, come, old boy; and you a society man, and ten years in Washington ! " Mr. Mat-Allan was asluum-d of his ignorance of so familiar a method, and straightway reflected that some of his own matrimonial ventures might have been more fortunate had he availed himself of such aid. " It strikes me as a pretty good scheme," said he, " and perfectly honorable." "Honorable! Why, my dear fellow, it's benevo- lent. It 's religious. It 's a sort of home missions, and is undertaken by some of the most devout men in our churches elders, Sunday-school superintendents, and all that sort of thing. You see a man must have character and social position-in order to succeed. They don't advertise, you understand ; not a bit of it. It would n't do. Everything strictly private. Prob- ably you couldn't find one of them, if you tried a week. But I know them. On their books they have lists of this sort of property daughters of wealthy men, heiresses in their own right, rich widows, divorced women with a handsome settlement, and so forth and so on. Any of them will marry if the right man asks SUXDAY THEATRICALS. 45 them ; and for every one of them there are twenty splendid fellows waiting for just such chances and not knowing where to find them. Now comes in your good missionary, removes difficulties, arranges preliminaries ; and gallantry and susceptibility do all the rest. Of course when a man g<'ts a fortune in that way he feels liberal, and pays a handsome commission without grumbling." " And so you 're a little in the missionary line, yourself, eh? " " Oh, a little, very little indeed. I don't make a business of it, you understand. When young Vander- nack best fellow in the world urged me to do something for him, at first I would n't listen to him. Says I, ' Vandernack, I have n't anything that will suit you.' But tiie fellow wouldn't take No; so finally I said, ' Well, I'll see what I can find.' I had no idea that such a gold mine as this would turn up within a week." At this point Mr. Pack remembered an engagement which made it impossible to pursue the subject further, lie therefore excused himself, leaving Mr. Allan Mac- Allan in precisely the state of mind that was to be de- sired, seeing a golden possibility, to the pursuit of which he t was not quite ready to commit himself, yet fearing that it would be snatched from him by the hand of another. 46 /'///-' norKAXOCK STAGE. 1 1 is first sight of Lucy removed bis indecision, and a long argument with Tack at length convinced that righteous man that his friend and kinsman had the D strongest chiim upon his good offices. Well, Mack." he s:iid with a sigh, ' I hope I'm not doing poor Vandernack a wrong. But your happi- ness is dear to me ; and of course your marriage is a matter of especial interest to us all as a family. I '11 throw my scruples aside and do my very best for you." He had explained, however, that in order to secure the proper arrangement of the social preliminaries he would have to depend upon another broker one of the pious church officers before alluded to ; in fact a Presby- terian elder ; and that it would be imperative that Mr. MacAllan conform to his advice in all respects. The elder would have to be well feed of course, but not unreasonably. Pack would see to that. As to Pack himself, he would have nothing, not a cent, Mack. Whatever he did, he did out of pure friendship. I "pon this understanding the business had gone on, day after day. The holy man who was alleged to manage the affair was not produced in person, and was alluded to only as "the elder." He required an advance fee of a hundred dollars, and subsequent pay- ments of rather startling amounts as the business pro- gressed, and sent his reports and directions from time SUNDAY THEATRICALS. 47 to time, all through Mr. Pack. It was these facts and counterfeits of facts that Mr. Pack was contemplating during that Sunday afternoon soliloquy which Grim mistook for a rehearsal. While his thoughts yet dwelt fondly upon the fictitious Vanderuack and the good elder and the matrimonial brokerage system, all cre- ations of his own brain, Mr. Allan MacAllan opened the door, surprising his kinsman in a broad smile, skillfully passed off as one of happy recognition. "Sweet Bassanio, well met," said he, giving him a cordial hand. l> Well met, most noble signior," answered Mr. MacAllan with courtly obeisance. " Ailyuses and theater manners ag'in," said Grim's lips contemptuously. " You 're two confounded ije- yuts, that's what you be." Again poor Grim was mistaken. The two friends had complimented one William Shakespeare by dress- ing out their little drama in some of his stage property. During the early part of their negotiations, while they > were awaiting the movements of the alleged elder, they had seen the Merchant of Venice played at Hooley's theater. The similarity of the plot to their pwn was obvious. The heiress, the suitor, the devoted friend, the risking of costs and of fate upon chance all were there ; and these merry actors at once appropriated the phraseology of the play. Plain Pack and Mack be- 4S Tin: i;a<'K.\\ocK STAGE. ciinic my lords Antonio and Bassanio. Miss Darling was the fair Portia. Rockby was Bclmont. The scheme of a mercenary adventurer was the quest of an ardent lover. Thus a veil of romance was thrown over the plot, while at the same time a vocabulary of pivtty archaism helped to secure it from discovery. This was the secret of the "theater words and ally- uses "which had so mystified Grim and confirmed his suspicion that something deep was going on. CHAPTER IV. THE MERRY BOND. Q1 CARCELY had the two Venetian lords exchanged salutations when the door opened again, and there entered an oldish man with grizzly hair and beard, long nose, and large stomach, wearing a smok- ing cap, gown, and slippers. "Ah, Mr. Krauntz ! " exclaimed Pack, "glad to see you. This is my friend Mr. MacAllan, Mr. Krauntz." Mr. Krauntz was "ferry glat to zee Meester Ollen- mac*." Mr. MacAllan was very happy, he was sure, to meet " Mr. Crowns." Grim's lips shaped some characteristic comments upon the new arrival, and upon the trio generally. Chairs and cigars having been provided by Mr. Pack, the three men formed a triangle and proceeded to give Grim the entertainment to which he had in- vited himself. To his great satisfaction they sat within range of the second best crack in the door, rnabling him to see as well as hear them. Aliases and theater words had been dropped since the en- trance of Mr. Krauntx ; but it was evident that he was to take a leading part, in the play. In fact, he 4'J 50 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. was assigned the r61e of Shylock, which was perfectly suited to his talents. " Veil," he began, looking squarely at Mr. MacAllan, "now vee come us to beezniss, eh? Yoo t'ink yoo vill git dem vooman, if you haf money nuff?" Mr. MacAllan colored with embarrassment and resentment, that the sanctities of his heart should be thus rudely invaded by a stranger. " I have not exactly put it in that bald way," he replied. "Bait? bait?" said Krauntz sharply. " Vot vay is dat? I put in der vay vot he is. So you lika not my vay, mebbe you lika not my dollars, eh?" " Come, come, Krauntz,. you old reprobate!" said Pack, laughing, "you know how a young man feels about his love affairs; don't be rough on him. ^ Of course he'll get her if he has a fair chance. What you and I propose to do is to give him a fair chance, and, so far as you are concerned, at a fair price." " Dass ees beezniss," said Krauntz. "Business? Of course it's business," replied Pack; "and that isn't saying there's no sentiment in it, or romance, or anything of that sort. That 's Mr. MacAllan's affair. Ours is simply the com- mercial transaction involved the loan, the rate, and the security, eh, Krauntz?" " Dasswhassamatter," said Krauntz. "Of course it is," said Pack, "and there needn't THE MERRY BOND. 51 be any palaver about it, or any roundabout questions. The preliminary points are all understood on both sides. Mr. MacAllan is going to Rockby for certain reasons satisfactory to himself and his attorney. It is necessary that he have some ostensible business there and some available funds. You can help him to both, and do yourself a good turn at the same time, as I have already showed you." *' Dassallright," said Krauntz. " So you said yesterday when I suggested it to you. And since you are still of the same mind, it will be all right for you to state to Mr. MacAllan precisely what your proposition is." Thus brought to the point, Mr. Krauntz took his cigar from his mouth and prepared to put his proposal into the peculiar dialect of which he was master. But after a moment's meditation, and one or two unintel- ligible grunts, he said, amid a series of nods to Mr. Pack, " I guess better yoo tellim, Pack." This was precisely what Mr. Pack wished and ex- pected. Krauntz was a client some said a partner of the lawyer, having frequent occasion for that gentleman's knowledge of the intricacies of the law, and paying for it according to the profits which it secured him a more equitable basis, one might think, than that upon which lawyers are usually paid. He was a capitalist who preferred to make small loans 52 TEE BOCKANOCK STAGE. at high rates. He was a speculator who traded in slender chances for large returns. In Mr. Mae Allan's affairs he was needed in both capacities. The point had been reached where more capital was needed and where no one without a genius for fantastic speculation would furnish it. Krauntz was the very man for the occasion. Pack had readily convinced him of the soundness of the scheme, and had removed MacAllan's objections to taking such an ally into their counsels. Having prepared the way and brought the parties together, he naturally, as the attorney of each, preferred to manage the negotiations. With the details of the bargain, and the long dis- cussion which they involved, it would be an imposition t<> trouble the reader. Even poor Grim, pricked with the keenest suspicion and curiosity, found himself nodding before the business was done with. Two items ouly are of any present interest in our story. Kruunt/c \v:is to furnish the necessary funds upon securities which Mr. Pack declared satisfactory, and upon terms with which Shylock himself might well have been pleased. He was also to employ Mr. Mac Allan in the capacity of a loan and collection aiit-nt in Rofkl)y and vicinity where he already had a number of debtors, mostly small farmers. Pack was to draw nil necessary papers the next day, a Sunday contract being of course illegal. THE MEKJiY BOND. 53 " Well, Meester Ollenmac," said Krnnutz, rising at last and offering a rather grimy hand, " I hope you be successful all-a-times in you beezuiss aud my beezuiss." u Successful ! " exclaimed Pack. " He cau't help it, you know." ' If I am," said MacAllan, with a bow and & gesture which displayed his high breeding to the best advantage, " I shall owe it all to you and Mr. Crowns, and I shall not forgot my obligations." ' Yah, yah, yah, dass all right," said Krauntz. " Pretty poor show, I call it," grumbled the dwarf as he crawled from his private box after the three men were out of hearing. It was late on that Sunda}* afternoon when Pack and MacAllan entered the hotel. The better to enjoy their talk, they passed the elevator and ascended the stairs. It had I teen settled that MacAllan should leave for Rockby the next afternoon. The elder, so Pack said, had advised that he precede rather than follow Lucy thither, in order that his going might not be suspected of having any reference to her. He had also forbidden any attempt to make an impression on her in her pres- ent circumstances, though he had given very strong encouragement that an introduction might be effected. Mr. Pack had accompanied his friend to the hotel at this time, hoping that some accident would further such a plan. Hearing music on the second floor, they :, 1 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. strolled in the direction from which it came. In the open door of a private parlor stood two gentlemen. "Ah, Mr. Pack! how do you do, sir?" said the older of the two, giving the lawyer his hand. It was Major (lihson himself. Mr. Pack responded politely, but without betraying the delight which he felt, and id leave to proent his old friend Mr. MacAllan. Tlu'ii the two were presented to Mr. Transington, who explained that they were having a little Sunday after- noon sing. Mr. Pack said that it was a very pleasant thing to do, and one always observed in his own home, and asked Mr. MacAllan if he remembered what delightful sings they used to have on Sunday evenings in the old parlor. Mr. MacAllan perfectly remembered it, not as a matter of previous knowledge, but solely to oblige his friend, wondering the while what was to come of this courteous falsehood. Opposite the door was the piano, at which sat Miss Darling with a little group crowding around her, all trying to sing from a single hymn book. The Whortles were there and Mrs. Transiugton and a Mr. Austin, a uate and guest of Mr. Transington. "Oh, dear! we must have a tenor!" cried Mrs. Transington, turning around. " Z>o, major, be our tenor, or else go out into the highways and hedges and compel one to come in." She had come quite to the door before noticing the THE MEEKY BOND. 55 two strangers whom her husband could not now help presenting. " And Mr. Pack, here," said he, " is the very man you are in search of ; been in the Sunday concert business all his life." Mr Pack protested, to Mrs. Transington's evident relief, that he did not and could not sing, though enjoying music exceedingly ; but just as she believed herself well rid of him, he suggested that if he might be permitted to offer a substitute, his friend Mr. Mac- Allan sang an excellent tenor. It was in very bad taste ; but the chance to bring MacAllan and Miss Darling together was too tempt- ing. Of course Mr. MacAllan was begged to favor them ; and, after expressing a stranger's reluctance to intrude into their pleasant circle, and having the objec- tion overruled by his fair petitioner, who secretly wished him in Siberia, he consented. The rest, supposing him to be an acquaintance of the Transingtons, cor- dially welcomed his assistance. Lucy's gracious recep- tion of him, as she rose from the piano, smiled upon him, and prettily repeated his name after Mi's. Traus- iugton, filled him with genuine embarrassment. He really sang very well indeed, and demeaned himself with such modest politeness that by the time the singing was done he had quite gained the good opinion of the company. " Who is he? " they began to ask as soon as he was gone. :,[', Till: HOCKA. \-fX-K STAGE. "A gentleman of some means, 1 bear," replied Mr. Tninsinuton, kk who has lately come West with a view to M Ult'lllrlit." " He has been used to good society," remarked Mis. Wliortle ; " anybody can see that." " Comes of a fine old Maryland family, Mr. Puck tells me," added the major. I should like him better with a foot or two less of Ward," said Mrs. Transington. " Oh, I think the beard is perfectly adorable ! " exclaimed Miss Whortle. k ' I wonder if he dances as well as he sings. We must invite him to our hop on Thursday. May n't I, mamma? " "He leaves the city to-morrow," said the major; 4k he does not fancy Chicago, it seems, but wishes to find some quiet, healthful place not too far away." " And I shall never dance with him, and never, no never, see him again ; how cruel ! " kk He wouldn't dance with you anyway, Louise," said Mrs. Transington. "He's too pious; I know by the way he sang the hymns. Such fervor ! such emotion! You could hear it in the very tones of his voice. Dance, indeed ! " " He may be awful pious," said Mr. Whortle, coin- in:: to his daughter's relief, " but he 's in with a pre- cious rascal that Pack. Ask the major." "Mr. Pack is a tenant of iniue," responded the major, smiling evasively. THE MERHY liOXD. 57 " And likewise a swindler and an attorney of swindlers. I know him." " Then you ought to warn Mr. McCullom, orwhatever his name is, against him, papa," said Louise warmly. Meantime the reputed saint and sinner were lei- surely ascending the stairs toward the third floor. Both were a good deal elated by what had taken place ; Mac Allan because he had met Miss Darling under circumstances so auspicious, and Pack because lie had brought about the meeting. "Score ten for Bassanio !" exclaimed the lawyer, slapping the other on the back. " Why, Mack, you've just got a sure thing there! " " You believe it?" " T know it. If you had to bring suit right here in Chicago, amid distractions and gayeties, and no end of rivals, you 'd win her. But out there in the country, with nobody to compare with you for looks and manners and social position, and with every chance for acquaintance, why, it's as certain as doomsday. You can do it, and not half try." " I don't feel so sure of it as all that ; at any rate, I shall more than half try. The thing is getting rather interesting, that 's a fact, aside from the pecun- iary consideration. The girl is uncommonly pretty ; she sings well, and, between you and me, I almost think I 've fallen in love with her." CHAPTER V. THE ROCKANOCK STACK. WARNOCK STATION is distinguished as the least interesting place in the universe. Its .-he hud originally been occupied by a low, gravelly mound embellished with mullein stalks and the skulls of deceased cows. But the railroads had destroyed its picturesque ugliness, sweeping the whole mound into the gulch beyond, and leaving in its place a naked level of tawny sand and clay. Across this half-acre desert ran the track of the iron-wheeled caravans, and in its center, as a sort of wooden oasis, was placed the incommodious platform surmounted by the still more contemptible depot. Here, as the years went on, the great world held commerce with the little rural world which revolved about the War nock desert, exchanging wares, passen- gers, and news, insinuating ideas, and tempting away the ambitious and the unwary. Here presided as ticket master, freight agent, jani- tor, switch tender, and general factotum, a dilapidated pensioner of the road, who had taken the customary YOU to destroy the baggage and exasperate the feel- jugs of passengers. THE liOCh'ANOCK STAGE. 59 Here were to be found the usual quota of depot loafers, posturing on trucks and benches, inspecting travelers and their belongings, jesting, scuffling, and practicing the various other arts of their profession. Here came punctually at train time, in close-clinging couples or triplets, limp, giggling, caramel-eating young women, to whom the momentary opportunity to stare and be stared at was a daily excitement. And here, to my mortification, must be followed the thread of our story. The Chicago train was in. The bustle and confusion incident to the ticketing of three ugers, and the checking of a corresponding number of trunks, wa- at its height. The depot factotum limped to and fro. making the utmost of his small biis;:i. M. The loafers and the limp young women were in position, presenting the usual series of tableaux, which the passengers at the car windows had seen repeated with slight variations of costume and scenery at a dozen or more other stations already. One figure in the background, however, was unique and striking a tall, lean, long-nosi d Yankee, with stooping shoulders and sagging knees, surveying the scene with dignified interest, and solemnly chewing a straw. Had he been a chameleon in pantaloons, he could not have taken more perfectly the color of the weather-beaten planks on which he stood. Face, hair, beard, hat, clothes, and boots, all alike were 60 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. washed and stained to a common hue and streakiness. To the same causes were probably due the shortness of his sleeves and trousers legs, and the shrunken and pueki'ivd appearance of the suit generally. His importance as a local dignitary was evident at a glance. The girls honored him with their silliest banter, and the loafers with their most elaborate jokes. The train men shook their fists at him, and exchanged slang with him as they passed. The small boys crowded around him, timidly fingering the whiplash that dangled from his hand, and grinning their admi- ration of every word he spoke. He played the part of oracle to perfection, accepting the attention paid him as a matter of course, and responding, as mag- nates should, in terms befitting the age, sex, and quality of the person addressed. Yet, clearly, all this was incidental to a more seri- ous purpose. He was not one of the hangers-on about tin- station. He was the person for whose convenience tin' station existed, and expressly to meet whom the train bad arrived. He was not surprised, therefore, \\ht-n the conductor, the glory of whose blue uniform and polished badge and buttons filled the tableau- makers with awe, pointed him out to the sole arriving passenger, saying, " That 's him," while the small-boy satellites around him exclaimed under their breath, "0 Lezer, there's a passenger!" STA<;K?" THE ROC KAN OCR STAGE. 61 Lezer cast upon the traveler a look of interest and even of benevolence ; but not one step did he take, not one bite upon the straw did he miss. He could never lower himself to the pushing, job-hunting ways of the average driver. If the gentleman wanted any- thing of him, let him come where he was. The gentle- m:m did so. Then Lezer promptly spat out the straw, and said in a neighborly and confidential way, as he stretched his hand toward the brown satchel, "Stage?" " Stage," answered Mr. MacAllan with all the urbanity of which he was capable. He had fully in- formed himself on the subject of the Rockanock stage, and knew not only that it was the only public conveyance from Warnock to Rockby, but also that the stage and its driver constituted one of Rockby's peculiar institutions. Peculiar indeed was Lezer Martin, and the oddest of all vehicles was that to which he led Mr. MacAllau. A weather-worn, mud-besprinkled, patched and rickety affair it was, as incapable of description as were the ill-matched horses that drew it. "All! this is the celebrated Rockanock stage! A very serviceable stage it is too, very serviceable indeed, Mr. Martin." The shrewd driver received this 'compliment at its exact value, as the mendacious politeness of a man who was inwardly saying, " Well, this is the most ab- 62 THE KOCKANOCK STAGE. surd vehicle that ever I set eyes on." But he did not take the remark amiss, knowing the actual qualities of the stage, and being something of a romancer himself. " Wall, it is," said he. " You hit it the first time, knnnlc. I '.\i>t>eted you would. Some folks can't see any good p'ints in that air stage at all begin ter find fault with it right off, or else laugh at it. But you you 're a jedge o' stages. I knowed it es quick es I see ye. I was kinder sizin' on yer up, ye see, as ye come along toward me, and I sez to myself, sez I, ' There 's a man 'at is a jedge o' rollin' stock ! ' ' The solemn earnestness with which Martin spoke, looking MacAllan squarely in the eyes, with every sign of sincerity, completely dispelled the suspicion that he was jesting and convinced MacAllau that the man was a fool. 41 You do me too much honor," protested the driver's victim. " Not at all, not at all, kunnle. I dunno 's it 's enny honor at all ; but fax is fax. I 've a good mine to tell ye how that air stage wuz got up. 'T was my own idee, an' I never told more 'n two or three men in my life." Mr. MacAllan hoped that he might be the next to hear the secret. " Wall, I 'm jest goin' to tell ye, -there ! for I know you kin take it in. Ye see, I used to be a lanskip painter." THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. (\'.\ " You ! " " Bless ye, jis ; reggerlar. natteral artist I was, but I bed ter give it up on account o' my eyes. "Wall, when I took up stage driviu', I sez ter myself, sez I, I '11 carry our my artistic principles, here, one o' which is not ter paint a picture like anything in creation, but ter pick out the poottyist things in a hull lot of Ian- skips, and put 'em all together inter one. What's good in a lanskip is good in a stage,' sez I. Ye see I 'm a gre't hand to reason about things. I studied law quite a spell once ; but, bless my soul ! I could n't sturamick it nohow ; all that lyin' and deceivin' and twistin' jedge an' jury 'round yer thumb, jes for pay! Wall, I got ter reasonin' about it ; an' when I git ter reasonin' about a thing, it 's got ter come. Sez I ter myself, ' What 's good in a lauskip is good in a stage, an' I '11 hev a stage 'at '11 beat that air old deacon's oue- -liay all ter nothiu'. He built accordin' ter logict, and I '11 build accordin' ter art,' sez I. Wall, I buckled to an' writ up a lot o' notusiz. Ye see I wuz a oncommon good writer ; I used ter teach writin' for a liviu', but the rheumntiz got inter my hand so't I bed ter give it up. Wall, I writ these air notusiz, an' stuck 'em up all 'round, saying 'at I wanted ter buy a stage. T ua'n't two days afore I bed all sorts o' vebickles offered me * omnibuses, hacks, carryalls, emmygrant waggins, au' what not. Wall, I sez to one 64 THE ROCKANOCK STAKE. man, sez I, ' I like your furred ex ; but I don't like the rest of yer rig.' So I bought his forred ex. I sez to another man, 'Yer forred wheels suit me, but nothin' else does.' So I bought his forred wheels. An' so I kep' on, gettin' my hind ex here and my hiud wheels tin- iv, and my reaches yonder, an' so forth an' so on, till I got together the hull stage, jest as ye see it now. An' ther' ain't another like it in the country. You know ther' ain't, kuuule ; sech variety, an' yet sech a sech a toot um samble, as we say in art." The earnest and almost inspired manner in which this story was tuld made it impossible to doubt it, even if the stage itself had not confirmed every word. ' There she stands, kunnle," said the great artist. " Don't take rny word for uothiu'. Look for yourself ; seein' 's believin'." 4 Feeling that he had responded sufficiently to Mac- Allan's sham compliment, he turned away before the man should iveover himself to reply. "Make yerself ter hum, kunnle," said he. "There's an hour before the down train's due, an' she may be late. Then we 've got ter wait for the mail ter be changed. But what's the odds? You ain't in no hurry ; I knowd that the minute I see ye. Sez I ter myself, ' There's a reel gentleman,' sez I, an a reel gentleman never 's in a hurry. It's these here upstarts an' impostors that's allus a-frettiu' an' fumiu' THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. 65 an' keep things stirred up. Wall, if you like to set in the stage, you '11 find a mighty soft seat. I got them cushions out of a three-hundred-dollar hack. ' I '11 buy yer cushins,' sez I ter the man, 'but I wouldn't take the rest as a gift.' You jes try 'em, kunnle, an' if you like readin', there 's a last week's Tri-bune under the hind cushi'n. Or, if ye drather go round an' see the place, go ahead ; you '11 hear me blowing my horn when it's time ter start. I 'm an awful horn- blower ; I use ter play in a brass band afore my fingers got so stiff with rheumatiz." Mr. MacAllau availed himself of all the privileges offered him, and of some others. He made a careful study of the stage, in the light of Martin's state- incuts, and was more and more convinced of their accuracy. The vehicle had evidently been constructed, or rather collected, in the manner described. The name alone seemed to belong to it in its own proper capacity. Across the three side curtains had once been painted in red letters the legend, " ROCKBY, MAYO, AND W.\ KNOCK." By much flopping and rolling and many a driving shower, one half the characters had been made illegible, leaving only the first syllable of Uockby, the last of Warnock, and a single letter only of Mayo, " ROCKANOCK." Regarding the change :is wrought by providential causes, and liking the abbreviated form better than the original, the propri- G6 THE ROCKAXOCK 8TAUK. etor did riot attempt a restoration. " It makes sense," said he, "and it's easier to speak; Rockanock it is, and Rockanock let it be." The horses matched the stage but not each other. One was a sorrel and one a dingy gray ; one carried his head at the level of his back, the other held his stiffly erect, with a lean, jerky neck and outstretched nose ; one was furnished with a yard or more of draggled and threadbare tail, the other waved in air a little tufted stump. The har- nesses, too, were as remarkable for variety and for " tootum samble" as the coach itself. Mr. MacAllan had exhausted these and other objects of contemplation, the contents of his morning paper, his cigar, " the place," much of the surrounding coun- try, and all of his patience, when the horn announced the time for departure. To his disgust he found that a couple of mulatto girls were among the passengers, and had actually taken possession of the best seat, with its luxurious hack cushions. Seeing his irrita- tion, the driver offered him a place upon the box, which, though he was not in the mood for further dis- course with the irrepressible Jehu, he was fain to accept as the least of two evils. "Do you have many of that sort of folks in Rock by?" he aski-d us they drove on. " Too many, too many, kuunle," answered Martin sadly. "Thcy's too many of 'em everywhere. They THE IKX-h'AMK'K STAGE. 07 had n't orter bo allowed, colored folks had n't. What business hev they ter go round in joy in' Iheirselves like white folks? Some people sez emancipation give 'em rights ; some sez the constooshnul 'men'raents give 'em rights ; some sez God Almighty made 'em es they be ; some sez they can't help ther color ; some sez it 's only skin deep ; some sez we 're all colored more or Course we be ; me 'u' you are darker this minute 'an them air two gals is. ' But what of it?' sez I; 'does that make black white or white black?' Some sez you can't bring forred no sound argyment fer dispizin' on 'em. ' What of it? ' sez I. ' I don't need ter argy nothin' about it. It 's yer feelin's you Ve got ter go by. If you 've got troo astycratic feelin's, ye don't 'sociate with them at 's below ye, an' ye can't an' yt- won't. If ye hev n't got 'em, ye can't understand nothin' about 'em; so what's the use o' talkiu'?' ' Mr. MacAllau saw no use in talking further upon this topic, not feeling quite sure o f the spirit of Lezer's remarks, or of the application intended. He therefore changed the subject. " Your horses aren't exactly a perfect match, are they?" he said mali- cioiiKly. " That all depends on what ye mean by a perfick match, kunnle. Ef ye mean bein' o' the same size an' color ;ui' build, an' all that, of course they ain't no match. Hut when I match hosscs, I don't look on 68 THE nOCKAXOCK STAGE. the outered appearance but on the innered goodness, jest as I would ef I was going to match up a couple to git married. The man an' his wife don't hev ter be of the same size an' color an' build in order to make a good match, do they? No more do hosses. What I want is to hev 'em git over the ground together, an' each one can-} 7 his end o' the load. Ef they'll do that, the more unlike they be the better I like 'em. That's where my lauskip idees help me ag'in. Natur' don't make things jest alike ; she goes in fer variety an' tootum samble." "I give it up," said MacAllan laughing. "They are matched perfectly." " They be, for a fack, kunnle, an' that ain't all, neither. They 've got a hist'ry, them hosses has. Jest look at 'em now ! Did ye ever see sech expres- sion ; sech individooality?" " Never," said MacAllan. "The off one allus 'pears ter be peakin' up over inter footoority, es it ware, while the nigh one is meditatiu' on the past." " Very striking indeed," remarked MacAllan. " Oh, he 's seen a great deal of life, that nigh one has ! Why, I 've knowccl him ter git ter thinking over his past life, till he 'd stop right still in the road." "I believe he is going to do it now," said Mac- Allan. THE I{nrh'.\\oCK STAGE. (i!t u No, no, not here. This ain't one o* his thinkin' spots. They's a place tip here beyond Mayo City where he might stop, like enough. It's jnst at the bottom of a long hill" " Ah, I understand!" " .Test at the bottom of a hill. A lovely place it is, too. es ever I see; woods on one side, an' fields on t'other, with birds u-singin' and bees a-hnmmin'. That air scene is ginnally too much fer oh- (irey. It seems ter car' him right back to his youth, ye understand." "Oh, yes; 1 understand perfectly. I've seen these meditative horses before. We have them in Maryland," replied Mr. Bi&0 Allan, thinking to match Lexer's humor. "Merryland!" exclaimed Lezer. "Why, bless you ! that 's where the breed started ; that 's where ole (Irey come from. Genoowine Merry-land stock. Im- ported him myself." " And of what breed is the sorrel?" " Wall, I hain't never been able ter git his peddy- grcc yit. Hut he has a mighty iuterestin' hist'ry. He's been a racer; he 's travvilled with a circus ; he's run on a Callyl'oruy stage ; he's worked on a threshin' machine, an' so forth an' so on. But he never felt reely ter home, ole Carrots never did, till he got onter this here stage." Three miles from Warnock their route crossed the VO THE HOCKANOCK STAGE. Onono River where they found the village of Mayo, a thrifty and rather attractive little town, commonly dignified as Mayo City. It had a fine water power, utilized by mills and other manufactories, and was the center of a rich agricultural region. Here there were no trains to wait for; but the mail was to be changed, and various Rockby errands were to be done. Lezer went here and there, in and out, at stores and private houses, delivering and receiving packages, letters, and verbal messages with imperturbable face and slow, heavy walk, squatting a little at every step as if with a perpetual inclination to sit down, and showing the sincerity of his opinion that the true gentleman never hurries. The passengers were hardly up to his standard of deliberation, however, and one of them at least was in a state of most ill-bred impa- tience before the stage left Mayo City. At the mill race they stopped again, and Lezer brought water for his horses with the same indifference to the passage of time, going and coming with his leaky bucket, which never ceased to drizzle its contents upon his rusty boots. " Why does n't the railroad run to Mayo? " growled Mr. Mac-Allan, as they once more moved on. "What should the railroad want ter come here fer?" demanded Lezer. "I hed n't never done the railroad no harm. What should they want ter break up my business fer?" THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. 71 " Oh, I see ! " answered MacAllan. " Jokin' aside, kunnle," said the driver in a different tone, " I don't suppose they cared a red cent about me nor nobody else. They come to these here little towns and says they, ' How much bonus '11 you give us to rim through ye?' An' Mayo, says she, ' Not a cent ' ; an' Rockby, says she, ' Not a cent.' They knowed 'twas better for the road to come there, and calkerlated that they could git it without a bonus. But that 's where they did n't know the onregeuerate heart of a copperation. The company jest went and bit its own nose off by runniu' way round out o' sight o' civilization. 'Cause, they said, ef they didn't pun- ish a town for sassin' on 'em that way, they never could git no bonus from no town. Mayo whined a good deal about it when 't was too late, but Rockby folks they 're stuffy, an' they allus argied 'at they was better off without the road than they would 'a' be'n ter mortgage theirselves for more 'n they 're worth ter raise a bonus." The conversation being thus brought around to Rockby, and a truce to banter and quizzing being tacitly agreed to on both sides, the passenger became docile and the driver reasonable and truthful. Mac- Allan found Lezer a perfect cyclopedia of local information, and drew from him many facts about Rockby and its inhabitants which he carefully treasured 72 THE ROCKAXOCK STAGE. up for future use. At the same time, he contrived to throw out certain hints about himself and his plans, which, though not altogether ingenuous, would be likely, he thought, in the hands of a gossip like this r, to work to his advantage. He represented him- self as a capitalist in a small way, looking out for safe investments, with a preference for improved farms. He consulted Lezer about salable property in that region and took memoranda of the facts imparted, marking some of them "confidential" at Lexer's request. The rest of the journey passed without incident. 44 On account o' bavin' a feller Man lander behind him," Lezer supposed, old Grey did not stop to think at the foot of the hill as had been expected. Other hills were climbed and others still, and zigzag roads were followed leading the stage higher and higher, the uncouth nags doing their work so well that they really won the admiration of their former critic. At length, at a turn of the road on the brow of a lofty bluff, Lezer drew rein, partly to " breathe the team," and partly to give his passenger a pleasure. On their right rose a perpendicular angle of rock with vines and tufts of foliage creeping from its seams, and a gnarled, old white birch leaning aslant from its edge forty feet above them. On their left stood a giant oak stretching its great branches overhead till they touched THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. 73 the leaning birch. Through this picturesque arch of rock and foliage the road swept in a graceful curve, disappearing behind the angle of the cliff. Beyond it the bluffs sloped down to a beautiful valley through which wound the little river Ono to join the Ouono a mile below. On the slopes of the opposite bluffs, creeping up terrace above terrace, half hidden and half revealed amid the soft, new foliage of its elms and maples appeared the village of Rockby. " There, kunnle," said Lezer with genuine pride, " there's the puttyist town an' the puttyist lanskip in >nsin. I've drove over this here route for goin' on nine years, an' I never went through that air arch by daylight, no, nor moonlight nuther, without stop- pin' ter look at the pictur' that 's framed into it. An' I never carried a passinger that bed any soul in him, but what he give in 'at that air scene was one o' the most thrillinist and soul-elevatiuist 'at ever he sot eyes on." " Lezer," said his present passenger with an enthu- siasm as genuine as his own, " it is as fair a picture, and as exquisitely framed as any that Maryland her- self can show." Presently he added with a look and tone that the driver could not understand, " I feel as if I had no business to go and be a part of it ! " "You!" exclaimed the puzzled Yankee. "Why not? Ye hain't got the smallpox, hev ye? " 74 - TEE ROCKANOCK STAGE. " I mean," answered MacAllan, quite restored to his natural mood, " that an ordinary man feels as if he would n't be an ornament to such a beautiful scene." Lezer was perfectly aware of the other's transition of feeling, and remarked with his usual ambiguity, as he started his team, "Shouldn't wonder but what ye might be right. G'lang ! " CHAPTER VI. THE GREY HORSE IN A BROWN STUDY. ON the Saturday following Mr. MacAllan's arrival, owing to the unusually thoughtful mood of old * Grey, the Rockanock stage did not reach Warnock till the Chicago train had passed a misfortune of very rare occurrence. Some interruptions, from this or other causes, were always expected, and an allowance of thirty minutes was made for them. But this morn- ing the great thinker hud required no less than four seasons of meditation, each one more protracted than the last. Yet Lexer lost no whit of patience or serenity ; and as none of his passengers chanced to be going to that train, he succeeded in preserving their equanimity also. At the station the delay of the stage furnished an ex- citing topic of conversation, and subjected the driver, upon his arrival, to a storm of jests and inquiries, which he enjoyed intensely. The usual crowd of loiterers, male and female, were still there, having been entertained by two special ob- jects of interest. One wus a freight train, puffing to and fro, switching out a couple of cars of local freight. The other was a young lady, in a pretty 75 76 THE ROCKAXOCK STAGE. traveling habit, who walked leisurely up and down the platform, apparently without suspecting the existence of the loafers and loaferesses that stared at her with unanimous admiration. She noticed everything else around her. She stooped to pat the agent's three- legged dog, limping about in imitation of his master ; she spoke to the dirty-faced child, presumably of the same family, and gave it a bonbon from her reticule. She watched the great engine at its work ; she looked pityingly at the cattle huddled together in the latticed cars. She admired the bluebirds on the telegraph wires, the little starveling dandelion at the foot of the pole, and the plump bumblebee wading among its pt-tals ; but for the tableau-makers she had not a glance or a thought. Lezer would have been equally ignored had he not promptly stepped forward and addressed her. "Miss DarlinY' said he, lifting his rusty old hat in awkward fashion, "I'm real sorry to 'a' kep' ye \\aitin' so long, but hosses will be bosses, speshually old ones." Lucy was startled to hear her own name, and looked up into the man's face with a glance first of perplex- ity and then of intelligence. " Oh, you are Lezer ! " she said. " Wall, I never ! " he exclaimed. " You 're jest ez good at guessin' ez I be ; that 's a fack." THE GREY HORSE AV A BRO WN STUD Y. 77 "I didn't guess, I knew," she answered archly; " and so did you." "That's a fack, too." "How soon do you start for Rockby ? " Lucy knew already, but wanted to hear the man talk. " Oh 'n 'our there'bouts." " Where is your stage?" u Right 'round here," he said with a backward jerk of the head. "I have heard so much about it" began Lucy, and then checked herself, fearing that he would infer that she had heard it ridiculed, and would take her remark amiss. On the contrary, he was greatly pleased. " The half hezzent be'n told ye, Miss Darlin'," said he. " Come an' hev a look at it, an' pick out yer seat 'fore t'other train gits in. They 's allus a rush for the best seats. Sometimes ther iugaged days and days ahead." " Of course," she responded, quite as sober as him- self. "It is the same way with the palace cars and the ocean steamers. I hope there are some good seats left this morning." " Wall, there 's one 'at I consider the very best one o' the hull lot." " Then I will engage it at once." " Mebbe you won't want it. It 's a front one." 78 THE ROCKAXOCK STAGE. "That is exactly the one I do want; I wonder it has not been taken long ago." " Wall, yer see, I kinder kep' it fer you" "That was very kind of you, but how did you know I was coming?" "Oh, I'm a gre't guesser, I be. I wuz born in C'nettycut." With that they came to the stage, Lucy just enough exhilarated by the fresh May air and sunshine to enjoy the driver's humor, and take no offense at what in a different man would have been unpardonable audacity. She had prepared herself for a ludicrous sight, and had resolved not to reveal her amusement, come what would. But when she saw the absurd vehicle with its furnishings and appointments, and its indescribable horses, she broke into a merry laugh, of which, irresistible as it was, she was sincerely ashamed. She felt sure that she had now forfeited her seat, or mude it an uncomfortable one to occupy. But Lezer, instead of resenting her mirth, joined heartily in it, both from the power of its contagion ami because he saw that it was the laugh of amuse- ment and not of contempt. " Wall, there it is," said he, " and you 'd better laugh 'an cry about it." " I don't see anything to laugh at," growled a voice from within the stage ; and an irascible old gentle- THE GREY HORSE IN A BRO WX STUDY. 79 man thrust his head out at the window. "Why don't you drive your old caboose up close to the station, instead of freezing your horses and passengers out here in this raw wind ? " Lucy walked away as if she saw or heard nothing, but inwardly thankful that the outside seat was reserved for her. Lezer "sized tip" the old gentle- man at a glance and resorted to his usual weapon of defense. " Kunnle," said he solemnly, " I dassent do it. Them hosses is sech awful cribbers. Do you see that deepo?" he asked, pointing to certain patches of new clapboards and shingles on the nearer end, where the ravages of an incipient fire had been repaired. "What of it?" " What of it! Why, them air hosses wuz hitched too close to it one day, and they et that end clean off ! I felt nigh about ready to kill 'em. Cost me over 'k-ven dollars in cash, it did. Jest look fer yerself, scein' 's believiu'. There 's the very sidiu' and shingles now. T wa'n't good for the hosses, neither. And what 'd I hitch 'em there for? Ter commerdate an old gentleman 'at did n't like the draft. Whudder yer think o' that, kunnle? And yit, I'm thet tender- hearted 'at I 'm jest goin' to hitch 'em there ag'in, though I 'in dead sure they '11 go and eat up the deepo." 80 THE nOCKAXOCK STAGE. " Ob, don't ! " cried the passenger. " I tell ye I will. I kin stan' a few costs an' repairs, but grumblin' V cantaukerin' I can't stan', I positively can't." An hour later they were on their way to Rockby. Lucy found herself on the coveted seat, and chatting as freely with Lezer as if she had known him always. She did indeed know him well by reputation, having many times received from the Ashleys some laughable account of his eccentricities and of the career of his remarkable stage. When she was about to start for Rockby, Helen had written, giving full directions for the journey, not forgetting the final passage in the Uockanock stage. "*Be sure and get a seat with the driver," she had said; ' he is the oddest, awk- wardi-st, Yaukee-est, tenderest, most chivalrous, most sensible fellow in the world, and so large-hearted that he loves everything that lives, except shams and snobs. Some people are so stupid that they call him the prince of liars; but he is no more a liar than Cervantes, or Dean Swift, or John Bunyan, or Charles Dickens. He is a master of instructive fiction. He resorts to irony, paradoxes, fables, parables, allegories, and stories with a moral, but never to a falsehood. The doctor calls him ' Our Great Moralist.' " Lezer on his part had acquired considerable in- formation concerning Lucy. Everybody in Rockby THE GREY HOR SE IN A BRO if .V STUDY. 81 knew that Mrs. Ashley was expecting her sister; and everybody who was willing to accept Mrs. Ashley's valuation of Lucy's merits looked upon her arrival as an event of unusual importance to the social life of the little town. The graduate of a celebrated Eastern seminary and mistress of a various!} 7 estimated fortune, connected with the leading physician of the place, and having reputed charms of person and of manners, she was the subject of much conversation ; and what was said in the sewing society and the drawing room was retailed and ivviewi-d at the grocery and the shop. Lezer was, therefore, as well prepared as Lucy was for ready acquaintance, and was more delighted to have the pretty and vivacious girl beside him than she was to be there. "But you startled me so, speaking my name," she said to him. " How could you know it, or me? " "Wall, now," he replied with a sheepish smile, and looking straight at Carrots' tail, " ef I sh'd tell ye yer wouldn't b'l'eve a word on't." "Indeed, I would believe anything you said; in earnest, I mean/' " Wall, I knowed ye by yer ears ! thare ! " " What nonsense ! " she cried with a laugh, while the shapely little members in question began to grow rosy. "You are just making fun of me, as you did of the old gentleman about the horses." 82 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. "I told ye yer wouldn't bTeve a word on't; I knowed ye wouldn't." " And I told you that I would believe what you said in earnest." " This is in earnest." " Nonsense ! I say." "And good sense, I say. Why, bless your soul an' body, I allus rekkugnize folks by the'r ears. Ther' a'n't no feecher thet's so reliable es ears for identifyin' people by. The 'xpression of the'r faces '11 change. Ye can't tell nothin' by it. Yours hes changed, forty times a minute ; but the'r ears don't change, an' can't change, nohow they can fix it." " There *s something in that," Lucy admitted. " An' ther' 's more in this ; folks is more onlike in the'r ears than in any other feecher. Ye kin find a hundred noses pootty much alike where ye kin two pairs of ears. Do ye know that?" "I should have said there was as likely to be resemblance in one respect as in the other." "It maybe likely enuf from the natur' of things, but it a'n't according to the facks ; an' ef you '11 make a study of ears, as I hev, you'll find it out. Some folks' ears 's jest holes in the'r head, with a little kind o' burr round 'em, sech as a dull bit makes borin' inter wood. Other folksiz stand out kind o' independent, and seem ter be carry in' the head atween 'em, es the THE GRE Y HORSE IN A BRO W2f STUDY. 83 two spies did the bunch o' grapes in Scriptur'. Some looks es ef they wuz pinched out o' red putty by a boy's fingers, or whittled out of a chip with a rusty jack-knife. Others is all rounded an' filed and san'- papered down, as smooth an' finished es new jewelry. Some is jest buddin' out o' the sides o' the head, like rhubub sprouts in the spring. Others grows 'way out on the end of stalks, like horryzontle calla lilies. Some is pinned back es close es a double-breasted coat collar. Others spread out like a pair o' great butterfly's wings, jest ready to fly away with the little head they 're hitched ter. Some is thick an' some is thin ; some is hard an' some is soft ; some is long an some is short ; some is pale an' some is red ; some is made o' meat an" some o' leather ; some is wrinkled an' some is smooth ; some has a flap hanging loose at tlu.' bottom, an' some grows on clean down to the end ; some belongs ter the head you find 'em on, an' seems ter fit in with everything else, an' some has ben got by swoppiu' with somebody else. An' so forth an' so on." " But how did you know what kind of ears I had?" "Now you think you've got me, don't ye? Wall, I did n't know nothin' about your ears ; but I 'd seen Mis' Ashley's a good many times, an' took very per- tickler notice of 'em. They a'n't big an' they a'n't small, but kind o' middlin'. They wuz made a-pup- 84 . THE /or/r.i.vor.'/r STAGE. pose for her, and finished right up ter the handle. And you 've jest got another pair out o' the same lot. You don't look like Mis' Ashley no other way. You ha'n't got the same eyes or hair. You a'n't complected alike. Her build a'n't the same as yours. She's more thickset 'an what you bo. But yer ears is es nigh alike es two peas. The minute I see them ears, sez I ter niy>c'lf, 'That's Mis' Ashley's sister.' I knowed ye wuz." "Do sisters always have ears alike?" "Oh, bless yer, no! I don't say I knowed afore- hand you 'd hev them kind o' ears. I say 'at when I see you did hev 'em, I knowed you was her sister. See?" "Certainly. You did not reason a priori, but a posteriori" " I don't know nothing about yer posts and yer priories, .but I know a good deal about ears. And yit," continued Lezer thoughtfully, u I did get awfully fooled one time." " Is it possible?" "Oh, jest sold out, slick an' clean. Ye see I was deputy sheriff, an' was on the track of a hoss thief up here'n Taswax. I'd seen the feller once, an' got a good look at his ears ; and I callated that I sh'd know them ears in Kamskatky or anywhere else. Small, kind o' yaller-brown things, they wuz, and flattened THE GREY HOUSE IN A SHOWN STUDY. 85 right out agiii his head, like a piece o' cheese 'at 'a been stepped on. Wall, while I was follerin' up his trail, and thought I had him dead ter rights, I come aerost a chap about es oulike him es black an' white. He wore a suit o' minister's clothes instid o' t'other one's blouse an' overalls ; but that did n't fool me. He lied a smooth face iustid o' t' other's big whiskers an' mustash ; but that did n't fool me. He walked with a cane, an' limped a little, kind o' draggiu' his left foot along, while t' other feller wuz es lively an' springy es a grasshopper ; but that did n't fool me. I wuz up ter all them tricks, an' forty dozen other like 'em. What got away with me wuz his ears. They wuz red and thick, and stood out from his head es big es a cata- mount's. Wall, es quick es I see them ears, I never looked for no other marks on the feller at all. Ears wuz sech a kind o' hobby with me, an' I wuz thet con- ceited about 'em, 'at I jest took down the hull thing, an' sez I, ' Reverend, ef yer goin' Taswax way, I '11 give yer a lift.' We wuz right at the forks o' the road, this side o' Gallus Swamp. " ' Which road are ye goin' ter take?' sez he. 44 ' Gallus Swamp road,' sez I. ' It 's more 'n a mile shorter 'n t'other.' " l My brother,' sez he in a kind o' whinin', trembliu' tone ; ' my beloved brother,' sez he, more an' more affected every word he said, till I thought, my soul, he 86 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. wuz jest goin' to bust out cryin', ' don't, don't take the (Julius Swamp road ! ' sez he. "'Yer needn't cry about it,' sez I; for it allus does make me mad, thet kind o' whinin' does. I never c'd see what a minister wants to make a cry-baby of himself fer. Ef he 's got anything ter say, let him say it out like a man, an' not snivel and sob over nothin'. "\Vall, I spoke up kind o' sharp to him, an' sez I, 'Yer needn't "brother" me, an' yer needn't give me no advice. Ef ye don't want ter ride, say so. I'm bound for Gallus Swamp anyhow.' "'You may jeer at me an' my sacred calling,' sez he, 'but' " ' Sacred humbug ! ' sez I. " ' But I shall perform my duty,' sez he. "'What's that?' sez I; 'the dooty of a weepin' wilier is to wave over a toomb-stun, but I never heerd what a weepin' elder wuz good fer.' " ' Scoff on,' sez he, ' I am used to the revilings of the wicked. But I will still warn them of their perils. In the Gallus Swamp a villain waits to slay thee.' "'Oho!' sez I. prickiu' up my ears; 'I'm out a-huntiu' villains this morniu'. It's mightv good of him to wait fer me.' " ' Ah, you little know how desperate a man he is,' sez he. " ' "Whudder you know about him?' sez I. THE GREY HORSE IX A BR WN STUDY. 87 "'Just before you overtook me,' sez he, 'a man passed me, riding a fine sorrel horse, and leadin' another. He had a villanous-looking red beard, and wore a butternut-colored blouse and overalls. He in- quired the way to Gallus Swamp, and asked if I had seen anything of a tall, long-nosed man, driving a roan horse ? ' "I didn't wait for another word. 'Wall, elder,' sez I, 'you be good for somethin', arter all. Wuz he ridin' fast?' " 'Oh, no, very slow indeed,' sez the elder. 'One horse was badly lamed up ; he had n't more than got out of sight when you came up.' " ' Good enough,' sez I, givin' the roan a cut with the whip. " ' Oh, don't go ! ' sez he, claspin' his han's this way ; but the roan jumped by him, and we wuz out o' sight in no time. " Wall, you kin guess the rest, es well es ef I told ye. He wa'u't no elder at all, but the thief himself. He had found out somehow that I was arter him, an* slipped his bosses into a clump o' brush. He might 'a' hid himself, but he wuz a great joker and wanted the fun o' fooliu' me." " But how did he get his big ears? " askc-d Lucy. " That's the very p'iut o' the joke," laughed Lezer. " He knowed 'at ears was my s^shallt^ an 'at his 88 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. wuz sure to give bhn away ; so he rubbed 'em with pi/ni ivy till they swelled up two or three times the nat'ral size. I never was so beat in my life, never. While I was explorin' Gallus Swamp from eend to eend, and all the country on bey end, that raskel went back, got his hosses, and crossed the State line. He even hed the imperdence to write me a letter, askin' ef I found the man I was arter in the swamp, an' ef I'd diskivered any use for weepin' elders. He forgot ter give his postoffice address, so I could n't answer the letter. But it wuz a lesson to me. Jest humbled my pride an' showed me my weakness, that did, better 'n anything 'at ever happened to me. I reelly felt sorry when I heerd 'at the poor feller wuz hung." "Why, is horse stealing a capital offense?" asked Lucy in surprise. u Oh, no ! The charge agin him was murder. He wa'n't no more guilty 'n I be ; but the jury knowed he was a hoss thief, an' two or three on 'em hed lost stock by him. Ef they convicted him o' that, he 'd only be kep' away from it fer a while and then be turned loose agin. So they jest brought him in guilty o' murder and hod him hung. It wa'n't exactly law ; but it saved a good deal o' trouble, an' kep him from heapin' up more sin agin himself." 44 Why, it is perfectly shocking ! " exclaimed Lucy. ' Yis, it is. He was awfully shocked by it himself. THE ORE Y HORSE IN A BRO WX STUD T. 89 So wuz his friends. But that same jury went an' let two reel murderers go. So ye see their evridge wa'n't none too high ; an' in this world ef ye git yer evridges summuz near right ye do putty well." At this moment the conversation was suddenly inter- rupted by old Grey. They had reached one of the places always critical with him on the return route, and he dropped at once into motionless meditation. Carrots feigned to object, and gave a spiritless jerk or two forward, as if to say, " You see I am willing to go on, but can't do it," and then quietly accepted tin- situation. Lezer accepted it with equal readiness. "Beats all," said he, " how uatteral scenery works on that boss's mind." Why does he stop here? " asked Lucy innocently. " You just look an' listen a minute, an' you '11 know. Do ye hear that little brook a-gurglin' an' tiuklin' amongst the stones ? Do ye hear them brown thrash- ers an' chewiuks an' chickadees singin'? Do ye hear them bumblebees a-hummin'? Do ye hear thet kind o' breathiu' an' sh-sh-wish-sh-in' all through an' through the woods, round us an' overhead an' everywhere? Do ye see all that bran'-uew greenness on the ground, an' in amongst the bushes, au' over the trees, an' them little mouse-ears, an' dandylions, and blue vi'lets, an' win'flowers, an' dutchman's-britches, an' pussy-willers, an' alder tops? It's them things, along with the 90 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. grandeur o' the hill risin' right up afore him, that works on old Grey's feelin's so 'at he can't do nothin' but jest stan' still an' love it. He 's afrebuke to me, thet boss is, every day I live. It's so onfeelin' to hurry right through such a lanskip es this es, es ef ye bed n't no eyes nor ears nor soul nor nothin'." " That is certainly a philosophical way to take it," said Lucy, who knew something about horses and the way in which some of them are liable to be overcome by the grandeur of a hill. If Lezer suspected her of putting a more prosaic construction upon old Grey's conduct, he gave no sign of it. "Miss Darlin'," said he in the tone of genuine feeling, " I do think spring's jest the best an' soul-inthuzinest time o' year there is, don't you ? " " On many accounts, yes," she replied, wondering at the changed tone and look of the awkward fellow. " I never enjoy any other foliage so much as I do the new foliage of spring." " There ! " exclaimed Lezer with gratification, "thet's jest what I say. I sez to myself ag'in an' ag'in 'long in May, ' You take a good long look at that green grass,' sez I, ' fer ye won't see no more sech bright, fresh green es that fer a hull year.'" " Yes, but the leaf colors are the most wonderful. Just see them all around us, the olives, the browns, the buffs, the maroons, the bronze, the gold, the deli- THE GEE Y HORSE IN A PRO WN STUDY. 91 cate shading, the blending and overlapping of tints, the feathery tufts and sprays, and the exquisite sun- light effects upon the masses of foliage. There is nothing in autumn colors to compare with it for vari- ety and delicacy." " Now you talk ! " said Lezer, making an emphatic gesture with his whip. " I 've thought o' that a thou- sand million times, but I didn't s'pose anybody else ever did. I never heerd nobody speak of it afore. All the spring po'try 'at ever I read, an' I've read an awful lot on 't, too, it all goes on about the green leaves, es ef ther wa'n't none o' them other colors 't you jest called off, an' forty more to boot. An' some on 'em a'n't faded an' washed-out colors, neither, no more 'n fall leaves be. Look at them air sprouts round that maple stump. I'll bet ye the tree itself hed n't no gayer twigs on it last fall 'n them young sprouts is now. An' them oak suckers, too, 'd ye ever see sech red in September?" "Oh, no! How brilliant they are! I must have some of them ; " and she gathered herself for a spring. "You hold on; I'll git 'em for ye. Wall, my stars ! ef ye ain't out a'ready ! Light like a bird, you do, for a fack." He followed clumsily and rendered good service with his jack-knife in cutting the gay sprouts for her. 14 Jest see 'em ! " said he. " Them 's autumn leaves 92 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. right over ag'in. I believe the little things is dressed up iu the last year's cloze o' the old tree. Mighty economical family, ain't it?" "Fie, fie! " cried Lucy. "Do you call these secondhand costumes? Don't you see the new spring styles? the fine silky textures ? the lacelike forms? the folds and ruffles and deep indentations ? No autumn leaf was ever like that." " No, nor summer leaf, neither," said Lezer, hold- ing a bunch of the 'gay foliage tenderly in his great hands. " Pooty soon these here creases and wrinkles '11 begin to smooth out an' smooth out, till bimeby the great, broad, dark green leaves '11 look es ef they wuz cut out o' shiny green luther. Then ag'in they git tired o' green, an' they go an' dye themselves red an' yeller, an' so forth an' so on." No, no ! that spoils it all. I hate dyed-over things ! " "Ye wouldn't ef they was handsomer arter they was dyed 'n they was afore, would ye? An' didn't smell o' dyestuff an' all that?" " I like new things best," persisted Lucy. " What you call new is really dyed over, though, a'n't it? Them ribbons, an' that pooty plaid dress, an' that mantilly, an' them brown gloves they a'n't natteral color, be they ? I never see no silkworm 'at ud spin red an' black threads. I never see no sheep 'at hed blue wool," THE (i HE r HOUSE 7iV A BR WX STUD Y. 93 "Of course not ! What I object to is the trying to make a thing look new when it is old." " Wa-a-a-11 I dunno. I b'lieve I'd ruther see things look well as they ken, anyway. I 've be'n thinkin' o' gittin these cloze dyed over ; " and he surveyed his faded suit dubiously, while Lucy cast about for a way to change the subject, lest she should laugh at the ludicrous suggestion. Lezer supplied the required change in a manner quite unexpected. "Be you religious?" he asked, searching her face with his gray eyes. Surprise, embarrassment, the strangeness of the question, the tone in which it was put, and something which was touched by it in -the soul of the girl herself, sent- the blood to her face. "I am afraid not very," she said slowly. " Oh, but ye be ! " said he. "I know ye be. You could n't help likin' anybody 'at had made them ere things an' gi'n 'em to ye ; an' He could n't help likiii' you, I know. I a'n't no church member myself, but I b'lieve a good many things all the same. Do you s'pose 'at any man c'd stan' right here five minutes, with his eyes an' ears open, an' not think about Him? " " Yes, I do," answered Lucy. ' ' Do you s'pose a woman could ? " " Yes." " Wall, then they ha'n't got no heart ! " CHAPTER VII. MR. MACW1IISKERS. I THINK I will walk up the hill," said Lucy. " It will be a rest to me and a relief to old Grey. Perhaps a lightening of the load will shorten his reverie." " You '11 find some shad-blows 'bout halfway up," said Lezer, pointing with his whip. " An' I don't think you '11 hev to wait long fer us. They 's sartin signs 'at ruther indercate a change. We may be ter the top afore you be, ferzino." Lucy slowly climbed the hill, gathering some sprays of the white shad bush blossoms as she went. At the top she caught a glimpse, through an intervening screen of hazels, of a little white farmhouse and two men talking at the gate. One was apparently the fanner himself an oldish man, with a torn straw hat uiid sleeves rolled up, leaning sidewise against the gate-post and listening dejectedly to what the other was saying. The speaker was young, erect, well dressed, and, as he talked, stroked the long, black beard that came to his very waist. "What, that fellow here?" exclaimed Lucy. 94 ME. MACWHISKERS. 95 " How very odd! And he seems to be pronouncing sentence of death on the poor farmer." At this moment a commotion at the foot of the hill caused her to turn about. A laughable sight presented it^L-lf. All of the passengers had alighted from the stage and were grouped about it in various positions. Some were grasping the wheels ; some were pushing behind. The irascible old gentleman had the sorrel horse by the bit, while Lezer grasped the bridle of old Grey. "Now, all together!" Lezer shouted. "One two three go!" He tugged; the old gentleman tugged ; the wheels were turned by main force ; the coach was pushed bodily along. . The horses settled back a moment, and then sprang forward and came snorting and scrambling up the hill, knocking the old gentleman aside, and leaving the pushers and wheel- turners far behind. Lezer alone, with his long strides, at a kind of leaping gate, kept his hold, and brought the panting horses to a halt at the top of the hill, where Lucy stood laughing. " I told ye I thought mebbe there 'd be a change afore long," said he. One by one the passengers came up and resumed their seats in various states of mind, merry and otherwise. "Are the inside seats all full?" asked Lucy. 96 THE KOCKAXOCK STAGE. " Always room for one more," said some retailer of the ancient omnibus proverb. "I b'l've there is jest room for one more, for a fack," said Lezer. " "NVnz you thiukin' o' makin' a change, Miss Darliu'?" " I think I will, since there is room," she said. Lezer looked at her to see if she had taken offense at his last words at the foot of the hill, and concluded that she had not. " All right," he said ; " you '11 find it more comf'table fer a change, ferzino ; " adding, rather to himself than to her, "I'll take Mr. Mac Whiskers up along with me." "Mr. MacWho? " said the old gentleman. "Oh, a passenger I brung down to Diah Green's this morniu'. I guess he '11 think it's a long time ter wait." A little gleam in Lucy's eye, although she was not looking at him, attracted his attention. As he turned to take his own seat he saw Mr. MacAllan, who had heard the noise of the creaking stage as it ascended the hill, and had walked down to meet it. By some unexplaiuable use of his guessing faculty, Lezer connected the advent of the whiskers with Lucy's change of seats. " Wall, here we be at last, and here you be, kunnle," said he. " Guess you '11 hev ter set up here with me a spell ; it's all full inside." 9? I\Ir. MacAllnn looked an annoyance which he did not express, but climbed to the place whose perils he had already experienced. By another effort of his guessing faculty Lezer connected this annoyance with the passenger who had just relinquished the place. Both guesses were right. Mr. Mac Allan, partly through information received from Mr. Pack, and partly*through common report at Rockby, had learned that Miss Darling was expected on that day, and of course by the Rockanock stage. It seemed to him a happy idea to be, by apparent accident, a passenger in the same stage. She had no knowledge of his presence in Rockby, and no suspicion that he knew of her coming. The meeting would be seemingly acci- dental. Their previous introduction would warrant him in speaking ; each would be surprised to see the other; the circumstances and incidents of a stage ride would compel conversation, and thus he would make his first impression, lay the foundation for immediate acquaintance, ami actually escort her into Rockby. He had a commission to execute for Mr. Krauntx, relating to a mortgage on Mr. Green's farm. He would make this business the pretext for going and coming on the stage, and trust to his own address to carry out the pleasant program. But an unpleasant surprise! brought his little plan to grief. He had arrived soon enough to see the young 98 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. woman get into the stage, and be himself shut out without so much as a recognition. Had he known that she entered the stage to avoid the necessity of recognizing him, that she was annoyed at seeing him, that the driver guessed as much, and even guessed that the visit to Farmer Green was for the sake of this ride and not the ride for the sake of the business, he would have been still more unpleasantly surprised, which was needless. He soon recovered his equanim- ity, however, and began a very amiable conversation with his companion. He had been in Rockby long enough to know that the driver of the Rockanock stage was a man of consequence, and one whom, for many reasons, he would do well to conciliate. Besides, he thought it possible that fragments of the conversa- tion might reach the ears that he most wished to please. " You have a fine patronage, Mr. Martin," he said in his blandest tone. " Pooty middlin' fair," admitted the driver. "The Rockanock stage is what I call a popular institution." u Wall, ther' haVt no other way fer folks to git frum Warnock ter Rockby, unless they foot it or hes hosses o' the'r own." "By the way, what a lovely place that Rockby is! I 've been looking for years for just such a town, com- bining neatness, thrift, good order, pleasant society, 99 healthfuluess, picturesque surroundings almost every desirable quality." " Ef I 'd V knowed how rauch ye wanted ter come, I 'd sent ye an invitation." "Thanks; but as the Irishman said when his com- panion apologized for not telling him of the hole into which he had fallen, ' I found it meself.' " " Stoppin' at Deacon Wobberton's, a'n't ye?" "Yes; the nicest people in the world, those Wau- bertons. I was homesick enough at the hotel, but now I am in clover." "Pretty good cook, Miss Wobberton is. I use ter live there when I wuz a boy." u Oh, well, then you know them?" " Bet yer life ! Ther' wa'u't no skercity o' me round there in them days. 'T was ' Lezer here,' an' ' Lezer there,' ' Lezer this,' an' * Lezer that,' seven days in the week." " Your full name is Eliezer, I suppose? " " Not much. Tiglath Pilezer my name is." "Indeed! That 's a name I never heard before." " A'n't rauch acquainted with the Bible, be yer, nor anci-.-nt hist'ry ?" " Oh, I did n't mean that the name was new to me, but that, as a modern name it is new. Of course I know its historical use." "AVttll, then you're jest the man I wan* ter see. 100 THE J10CKAXOCK STAGE. They 's one or two queschins about old Tiglatb 'at I wan' ter Lev answered, an' I 've be'n a-waitin' to run acrost some reel tiptop scholar 't c'u'd give me jest the right on 't. Wuz Tiglath Pilezer king o' Jerrycho, or only tetrarch o' Galilee ? " A moment's silence followed, during which Lezer thought he heard something like a suppressed titter on the other side of the curtain behind him. Mr. Mac- Allan was too much absorbed in the question to notice the sound. ' ' He was why, he was the the tetrarch of Galilee, wasn't he?" " Wall, some thinks he wuz, an' some thinks not. I thought raebby you might know. Yer see I nattrelly feel drawd toward Tiglath on account o' my being named arter him. It's a dreffle good name, don't yer think?" " Excellent." "Kinder noble an' high soundin', a'n't it?" "Very." "I allus felt ter thank my folks fer givin' me sech a name. Some folks ha'n't no sense about namin' tlio'r childrun. They take edvantige of a little help- liss baby, 'at can't say nothiu' agin it, to go an' tack onto him some outlandish name or other, 'at he 's got ter be ashamed on all his life. I kn'owed a feller 't wuz named Antarctic Aldebai an Stripps, an' his brother MR. MAr WHISKERS. 101 wuz Ilypothenuse Syllogism Stripps, an' his sister wuz Alcauthiany t'rambambery Stripps. Jest tbiuk on 't ! But my folks vva'n't no such idgeots. I heerd my mother say 'at she hunted the hull Bible through fer a name fer me, an' father, he hunted through Rollins' Ancient History ; an' whud der you think? they both hit on the same name Tiglath Pilezer. They mostly calls me Lexer or Leze ; but when you sound out the hull name, Tiglath 1'ilezer, it jest seems es ef ye c'd hear the ole king himself tramping by es big es life." Very sonorous, certainly." " You think Tiglath was a moral man. don't ye?" " Not a doubt of it." " Yon justify him in haugiu' Adouibezek?" 41 Under the circumstances, yes." ' Wall, they 's jest one other man 'at I 'd ruther be named arter 'n Tiglath, an' thet 's Abs'lom." ' k Why do you prefer him? " "Oh, he wuz sech a han'som' man, fer one thing. What a head o' hair he lied on him ! Think o' cuttin' off two hundred shekels o' hair a year. A shekel's the same es a pound, a'n't it?" " Yes; 1 believe so about that." 'Two hundredweight a year! That's splendid. I allus do like a big crop o' hair or whiskers. Now you r ve hed most oncommon luck with whiskers, kunnle. Some folks thinks 't a'n't nothin' ter raise 102 THE BOCK AN OCR STAGE. sech a beard as that ; but let 'em try it, I say, let 'em try it ! " and he brought down his whip with a fierce energy, as if the skepticism referred to was of the most unreasonable character. Mr. MacAllan found this subject the most embar- rassing one yet handled by this merciless gossip. He was positively vexed and found it diHicult not to show it. His beard was an object of profound regard and care. He was fond of it and proud of it. But he resented the impudence of this fellow in taking such liberties with an object so sacred. What if fragments of this conversation should reach the ears before al- luded to? But Lezer felt no embarrassment on the subject, and showed no intention of abandoning it. " I tell you what it is, kunnle," said he, " to raise sech a beard es that a feller 's got to give his mind to it. But if he 's willin' ter give his mind to it he kin do it. I 've done it myself ; I growed a beard clean down ter the tops o' my boots. But I could n't afford it nohow ; took too much time. I wuz a workiu'man an' I could n't set up nights a-takin' care on 't, and spend an hour in the morniu' dressin' on 't, curryin' on 't out, an' rubbin' on promatum an' all that ; 't was just goin' to bankrupt me, so I hed ter give it up. But a man 'at hes time fer it '11 find it one o' the most in- terestin' and iraprovin' things he kin do; an' if he cares anythin' about the admiration o' women, why, Ml!. MAC \\'II1SK ESS. 103 sech a pair o' whiskers is a fortiu to him. Some folks sez it's too small business fer a man ter go inter. Let 'em try it, I say, an' see ef it's so very small. I can tell 'em it 's a mighty big business. Why, with the time and money and painstakin' and incidental ex- penses o' sech a pair o' whiskers es yourn, a man c'd nigh about run a sawmill or a grocery store." " Pshaw ! " said MacAllan, reddening. " Don't tell me," rejoined Lezer ; " I 've been there an' I know what it costs to a cent. Some folks sez it's makin' a man like a hoss. What ef 'tis? Ther' a'u't no nobler critter 'u a hoss. But arter all, a hoss '11 beat a man raisin' hair and not give half the time to it neither. I was ter Milwaukee ter the fair las' fall an' I see a big Norman hoss there 'at hed a mane over seven foot long actilly swept the ground! They had ter keep it done up in a net like what women use, only forty times es big, ter keep him from step- pin' on it. I 'd allus lived in hopes, arter I cut off my whiskers, 'at I sho'd be rich enough some time to raise another pair, mebby longer 'n them was. But when I see that air hoss pranciu' round with a seven-foot mane un- der his huffs, sez I ter myself, ' It 's no use fer a human bein' ter go inter competition on hair with the beasts thet perish ; ' sez I, ' Every switch of a hoss's tail puts the biggest whiskers inter the shade.' But I hed n' % ought ter take sech discouraged views of it. Ef a 104 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. man can't do es well es a boss, let him do es well es he kin, that 's what I say. But he won't get no sym- pathy. Nobody knows how bard he works to git a crop. I love ter watch them air young fellers with their fust mustash. Why, their devotion to it is per- fickly beautiful ! How they tend it an' coax it an' stretch it when they kin git hold on 't an' twist up the eends, if there be any, an' curl under the edges, an' touch it with the'r tongue, an' try so hard to bring it up jest right ! Seems zif they can't do enough fer it. Can't keep the'r fingers off on it. I tell ye, it 's Itrautiful. Some folks laughs at 'em, and calls 'em imistash-nusses, au' all that. Let 'em try it them- s-'Ivt's, I say, the mean, onfeelin' catterwumps ! " Mr. MacAllan laughed at the driver's last speech, which could not be construed as personal, and Lezer relented toward him, and resolved to be more lenient than he had intended. " Speakin' about whiskers and liosscs," said he, ''makes me think of a play I see down ter Chicago, Merchant o' Venus, or somethiu' that " "Venice?" suggested Mr. MacAllau, coloring as he did so, for a reason which the reader already under- stands. "Guess 'tis Merchant o' Venice; guess that's it. They's a young swell goin' off courtin', an' another swell loans him some money, an' so on. Then they 's MB. MACWIIISKERS. 105 an old man tryin' ter find his son, and he 's so blind he don't know him when he does find him ; an' the young feller fools with him awhile an' then up an' tells him who he is, an' he don't believe it ; an' he puts it stronger V stronger, an' so forth an' so on."* Both on 'em 's sort o' idgeots ; the young idgeot 's fussy, an' the old one 's kinder mournful. Bimeby the young one kneels afore the old one, wrong way about, an' (lit- old one feels o' the young one's head, an' thinks it 's his face, an' he yells out, ' What a beard hast thou got ! Thou hast got more hair on thy chin than Dobbin, my iill-hoss, has on his tail!' Them's the very words. I liked the idgeots well enough, but them two swells, I didn't take no stock in, speshually the fust one run through his fortin he bed, an' then went off, on borrid money, ter where they wuz some kind o' guessin' game goiu' on ter win a rich girl ; an' the wust on it wuz he got her, though she wuz a thousau' million times too good fer him. I allus want U-r kick sech a feller's that. But what 's the use o' gittiu mad over him? 'T was only a play, anyhow. I don't s'pose scch things actilly happen ; do you?" kt Of course not." Between the speakers in this conversation and the inside passengers there hung a thin enamel-cloth curtain, badly cracked and worn, and having an oval opening in its upper part, where there had once been a 106 THE BOCKANOCK STAGE. small glass. Behind this curtain, and with her back to it, sat Lucy Darling. She had, therefore, heard almost the entire conversation, which was not of a private nature, and had been much entertained by it. It was ndto interrupted by the stopping of the coach, not upon old Grey's motion, but upon Lezer's. They had reached the arch at the brow of the bluff where the view of Rockby and the Ono Valley was presented. Lezer turned the stage diagonally across the road, to expose the view to those within. Lucy exclaimed with delight, and instantly acquitted Helen of exag- Lremtion in the descriptions which she had written. Even the old gentleman condescended to admire the scene, and the Rockby people among the passengers pointed out objects of interest, and enjoyed both the compliments paid to their home and the luxury of superior information concerning it. Mr. MacAllan bit his lip with vexation that he was not able to take part in the dialogue. As the stage rumbled over the bridge and along the principal street, Lucy scanned every object with eager interest ; the pretty cottages, the large mansions, the neat lawns, the shrubbery, the beds of early crocuses. She leaned from the coach window in her eagerness to see her new home, quite unconscious of the glow on her face, or of the interest with which an occasional foot passenger looked at her. Mr. MacAllan heard MR. MACWH1KKERS. 107 her remarks to her companions, and their very com- monplace replies, caught glimpses over his shoulder of fluttering ribbons and part of a graceful arm, but was doomed to silence. He hoped that when the stage stopped at Dr. Ashley's some accident would lead her to look his way, or that the doctor might recognize him. But the stage was driven by the gate, and turned partly away from it for greater convenience in unloading the trunks ; and he could not even see her when she alighted. There were tantalizing sounds, a little scream from the door a rush a noise of swift feet, great and small, on the gravel walk, confusion of voices feminine, masculine, childish a sound of kisses, a receding of the chattering group toward the house ; but Mr. Mac-Allan could not, without rude- ness, get so much as a glimpse of it all. The grim old coach shut the whole scene from his sight, and bore him off in triumph to Deacon Wauberton's. He silently paid his fare, went to his room, shutting the door with unnecessary emphasis, and tlung himself into the nearest chair. Two words only occurred to him as expressive of the facts in the case and of his own state of mind : 4 'Sold again!" CHAPTER VIII. SATURDAY NIGHT. IT needed uot the bright, open lire in the Ashley sitting room to bring the two sisters together on that cool May evening, but it heightened Lucy's sense of comfort as she settled herself in the cosy chair, and it threw a most becoming light upon the plump little housewife, sitting opposite with her basket of Saturday mending beside her. The children, who had been voted an hour's postponement of bedtime in honor of Lucy's arrival, had exhausted the privilege and fifteen minutes' grace, and had been dragged away in a tumult of laughter and kisses, excepting baby May, whose cradle stood near the mother's chair. The doctor had lounged awhile among them after tea, but was now keeping evening office hours in his own rooms. The sisters were in no need of other society, but were absorbed in the asking and answer- ing of countless questions, and the effort to get common possession of the story of their two lives during the years of their separation. The seminary and the nursery ; calisthenics and cookery ; Boston and Rockby ; classmates and babies ; French litera- ture and the measles ; the major and the doctor so 108 SATURDAY NIGHT. 109 the colloquial shuttle flew back and forth as the evening passed by. There was a sound in a distant part of the house as of a door quietly opened and shut. Lucy did not notice it, but Helen, whose consciousness extended to every part of her house, and who^ knew no such phenomena as unexplained noises, instantly said, "Good! there's Maggie! I wondered why she did n't come in. It is Maggie Wauberton, the sweetest girl in Rockby ; before you arrived, of course." With the word came Miss Maggie down the hall, and stood at the sitting-room door. The families were on such terms of intimacy that ringing and knocking were discarded ceremonies. Maggie had heard much about Lucy, and had accepted without abatement every word of praise which Mrs. Ashley had spoken of her. All the more, therefore, did she feel trepidation in meeting her, being much addicted to self-depreciation. She had also a little fear that the young lady, with her fine educa- tion and consciousness of social importance, might prove disappointing. Her blushing hesitancy was extremely becoming, as she stood framed in the sitting-room door, but Mrs. Ashley quickly ter- minated it. "O Maggie! I am so glad you came in! This is my sister Lucy. It is absurd for me to introduce you 110 THE liOCKAXOCK STAGE. to each other ; YOU are as good a"s acquainted already ; you know you are." The young ladies exchanged salutations with due propriety, but with a cordiality quite unusual between strangers, and decided that they should like each other. "There, that will do!" laughed Mrs. Ashley. " Very proper, indeed. But mind you," she added, with an imperious nod and a shake of her finger, " no more surnaming after this. I have decreed that you two girls shall love each other. Understand ! " "O Mrs. Ashley!" said Maggie, "your sister cannot love me upon compulsion." "That I will not," said Lucy. "I will love you spontaneously." And it was so. "I heard of your arrival," remarked Maggie, " through Mr. MacAllan." "Yes?" responded Lucy interrogatively, ashamed of the word. She detested the interrogative Yes. "Yes," repeated Maggie. "He didn't see you, being on the outside ; but he knew that a passenger got out at the doctor's, and I knew it must be you." "Is he your new boarder?" asked Mrs. Ashley. " \Vho is he?" " I think he is an Eastern gentleman who has come West, partly for health, and partly for business." "What bu.-ini-ss?" SATURDAY NIGHT. Ill " Oh, I don't know exactly what. Papa says he seems to be a man of some means. He has been making a good many inquiries about farm lands, and so forth ; I don't know." " What brought him to Rockby?" " I think the place was recommended to him by Chicago friends, who have investments here that he is looking after. He thinks he met Miss Darling in Chicago." " Indeed ! " exclaimed Helen, looking at Lucy, who showed little interest and no embarrassment. " Yes," continued Maggie, " when I mentioned the name he said, ' Why, I met a Miss Darling at the Tremout House. , It can't be the same one, I pre- sume.' And then he described her," here Maggie blushed a good deal, ; " but of course I could n't tell by that, and said she was with a fine, English-looking old gentleman, whom he took to be her step-father, as he had a different name, a major something; and when I suggested Gibson, he said, * Oh, yes, Major Gibson ! ' " " Very well remembered, Mr. MacAllan," said Helen. "Can the young lady do as well?" " Oh, he said she would not remember him ; that the introduction was quite casual, scarcely an introduction at all ; that he merely sang a hymn or two with her at somebody's else request, but that if he had known she 112 THE ROCKAXOCK STAGE. was in the coach he certainly would have ventured to speak to her." *' Indeed, I remember him perfectly well," said Lucy, " though I did not remember his name, and never expected to hear of him again. He was very improperly brought forward, through the amiable stu- pidity of Mr. Transington, but behaved extremely well, and sang well, too." " So far, so good," said Helen, " and now about the description that you blushed to think of, Maggie." " Oh, I think we will omit that. I could n't quote it exactly, but it was very complimentary, as to the looks, and the singing, too, though he did n't seem to mean it as a compliment, but was just trying to de- scribe her to me, so that I should know whether it was the same Miss Darling that I meant." " Hear, hear ! " cried Helen, laying down her mend- ing and looking mischievously at Lucy. " Here is a pretty bit of romance. The hero and heroine meet by chance, and part, seemingly, forever. Each is favor- ably impressed ; each carries away the indelible image of the other. He praises her beauty and accomplish- ments ; she praises his talents and demeanor. They ride in the same coach together, but cruel fate with- holds them from each other's sight, and at their jour- ney's end tears them again asunder, yet to separate seems impossible. The same small village holds them. SATURDAY NIGHT. 113 They are in adjacent houses. A friend bears to each tidings of the other. To be continued." Lucy laughed gayly at her sister's extravagant con- ceit ; almost too gayly, indeed, and with a subtle undertone of annoyance, so that the three were on the verge of embarrassment when to their relief Dr. Ashley entered the room, bringing Deacon Wauberton. "What riot is this?" he demanded. " Lucy, this is your doing. It is against the rules of the house. Laughing is positively forbidden, unless I know and approve the reason for it. So out with it." ' We have done so, sir, before your arrival. But if you are in the mood for family discipline deal with Helen. We are laughing at her nonsense, which is strictly feminine and unreportable." ' Helen, have you anything to say for yourself? " " Yes, sir ; introduce Mr. Wauberton to my sister." " Oh, to be sure ! I had at first determined to with- hold the introduction as a punishment for her levity, but I see that the guilt lies elsewhere. Mr. Wauber- ton, our sister, Miss Darling. Now sit down, deacon, and all of you, while Mrs. Ashley repeats the alleged nonsense for our benefit." "I beg you, for her own sake, not to ask it," said Lucy ; " she is suffering from abnormal development of the imagination, and should not be further excited." " Oh, now, see here " 114 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. " A moment, if you" please, sir. I know what you would say. You would say the disorder is epidemic in Rockby. I am aware that it is so. I met a most alarming case of it to-day in the driver of the Rock- anock stage." The diversion was ingenious, and succeeded per- fectly. The reference to Lezer turned the conversation instantly into a new channel. Every one was eager to know with which of his romances he bad favored Lucy, or whether some new one had been created for the occasion. Lucy showed no reluctance to gratify them, but gave them entertaining selections from the day's expe- rience. Her introduction to the driver and his stage ; Lezer's discourse with the cross old gentleman; his critique and personal reminiscences concerning ears ; his lecture on spring foliage, omitting the closing questions addressed to herself ; the balky-horse scene, all these were graphically reported. The conversa- tion which she had overheard between Lezer and Mr. MacAllan she thought it best, for several reasons, not to mention, though she was inwardly convulsed *at the recollection of it. No one of the company appreciated the humor of the driver or the graphic reproductions of it by this sprightly narrator more than Deacon Wauberton. He was a small, spare man, perhaps five-and-fifty years SATURDAY NIGHT. 115 of age, with a face as benevolent as that of any saint. His hair was iron gray, so was the irregular fringe of whiskers that hedged in his face. The nose was rather small and the mouth rather large, and there -omething about the wrinkles at the corner of the eye and the lines of the lips and cheeks that seemed always to suggest that he had smiled a moment ago, and the expression had not wholly faded out or was just about to come again. He was a cabinet-maker and had his small shop at the rear of his house, where he mended broken chairs, made the coffins of his neighbors, and occasionally did a fine piece of joiner's work for a special customer. He was a man of un- blemished integrity, wide information, and excellent judgment. He had a very humble opinion of himself, was diffident about advancing his own ^views, and was usually silent in general conversation. When he spoke his speech was slow and hesitating and not always faultless in grammar or pronunciation, though it forcibly conveyed some unmistakably good sense: But he was one of the best of listeners which is itself a mark of genius. Lucy's narrative entertained him greatly, as the tears rolling down his cheeks testified. " Lezer 's an exlryordinary man," he observed when the laugh which followed Lucy's recital had sub- sided ; " a very extryordinary man, and I call him a useful man in his way. I don't exactly approve his 116 THE KOCKANOCK STAGE. way, and yet I sort of like it too. It seems as if a man ought n't to say so much that he does n't mean ; but what he does mean is generally all right, and his little fictions seem just to set it home. It 's one of those things that you have to condemn on general principles and yet you can't help being pleased by it. As the apostle says, there 's a law in your mem- bers warring against the law of your mind. I can't help but think, doctor, that Lezer does some good with his stories, if he does make 'em up. There 's a pretty sound lesson in 'em most always, don't you think?" "Indeed I do; and I have reason to know it. It % isn't an hour since I got a home thrust from him on the subject of supplies. You see," explained the doctor to Lucy, " we have been without any regular supply for more than a year." Lucy looked aghast. Was the family in straitened circumstances? Was the doctor losing his practice? kt Without supply ! " she asked incredulously. "Yes; without any stated supply. Of course we 've had transient supplies, and some of them worse than nothing, too. We've just been living from hand to mouth." "Tom! What do you mean? Who have been living from hand to mouth?" "Why, the church, the church; don't you under- SATURDAY NIGHT. 117 stand? It's actually been a year and more without a regular supply." "Oh!" said Lucy, greatly relieved; "the church supplies the money for meeting its expenses." " No, no ! the pastoral supply." "Certainly; that is what I mean; the means of paying the minister's salary." " You precious pagan, no ! " cried Helen ; " the min- ister himself ! Do you mean to say that you never heard of such a thing as a stated supply?" " If I had, I certainly should not imagine it to refer to a man. I supposed the supply of a flock was what they ate, which is not as a rule the shepherd, I pre- sume." " N-n-o perhaps not as a rule," said the doctor; " but as a frequent and melancholy exception. We have devoured one now and then, and have now and then been devoured." " Now I begin to be interested in supplies," said Lucy. "The term isn't a very happy one," remarked the deacon, studying a figure of the carpet. kv We borrowed it along with a great many others, good, bad, and indifferent, from New England. At any rate, as the doctor was saying, our church has been vacant for a year and more." vl Vacant?" repeated Lucy in a fresh puzztet 118 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. "What! no services for a year! I thought } T OU said you had transient supplies." The deacon lifted his eyes toward her and smiled benignantly. Helen and the doctor shouted with laughter. ' Lu Darling ! " cried Helen, " do you call yourself educated, and don't know the meaning of the com- monest phrase relating to church matters? " 'I have not been educated to call things vacant when they are occupied," replied Lucy with unruffled good humor ; "but if it is considered the thing in this latitude, I will cheerfully do so. I would not think of objecting to a trifling paradox like that. You also speak, I presume, of the fullness of an empty jug, and of the populousness of an uninhabited island. I think I am going to like your language very much when I master a few of its idioms." " You will have to learn the language of parish business if you expect to understand current conver- sation in this family," said Helen. "You will hear it day and night." " Know, therefore," said the doctor, "that a parish is vacant when it has no pastor, as every one is aware, miss, who has the least acquaintance with church statistics." "Have patience with me, Tom. Church statistics, the calculus, and some other branches of higher mathe- SATURDAY NIGHT. 119 matics were not taught in our seminary. I hope to take them up privately, and am delighted to know that they are household words with you. I shall soon learn them by the natural method, and excel you all in the use of unintelligible terms." " By the same token, then, you mean to spend some years with us. That will please us all, I assure you." " Thank you ; that will depend upon your making yourself agreeable. And now, please, if you have exulted enough over a poor friendless girl, let us hear about that home thrust that the stage driver gave you to-day." CHAPTER IX. A HOME THRUST. E home thrust," replied the doctor, "was con- cerning this same matter of pastoral supplies. K \vry body knows that I am chairman of the commit- tee on candidates, and so everybody calls on me for the latest information on the subject. I met Lezer at the postoffice door, and he came up to me, as if he had been looking for me on purpose to ask the question. ' Doctor,' said he, ' who ye goiu' ter show off to- morrer ? ' " ' Rev. Philetus Dorchison,' I answered. What 's his strong p'ints?' said he. " ' That 's for him to show,' said I, ' if he has any.' " ' Jest so,' said Lezer, ' that 's what I used ter tell 'em. 1 wuz on a committee o' supply once, an' I used ter tell 'em, sez I, " What we want o' you is ter show off yer strong p'ints." Some on 'em 'ud try ter tell me how they wuz n't meu-pleasers, an' how they wanted ter preach the gospil, an' how the congregation oughter be a-wushipiu God an' not a-crittercizin the preacher, an' so forth an' so on, an' they 'd quote Paul to me, an' all that. But I told 'em, sez I, " Thet's all well enough when things is in reggerler runniu' order. We 120 A HOME THRUST. 121 a'n't. We don't go tcr meetin' ter wuship God ner ter bear the gospil. We jest go ter size up you preachers an' see what ther' is about ye 'at we, don't like." " What staudud hev ye sot up?" sez one white-livered feller, sez he. "The easiest one in the world," sez I. " The man 'at nobody kin find any fault with is the man fer us. Now you jes think o' that every iniuit while yer preachin', an' sail right in." But he did n't do nothin'. They wuz more 'n a dozen people 'at did n't like him.' " ' Did you find a faultless man at last?' I asked. " No, 1 said he. ' We tried seven years, an' all the while the church wuz gittiu more 'n' more pertickler. We tried every minister in the United States 'at we could git to come nigh us, with some from England an' Scotland, an' ther' wan't one good enuf fer us. Then we held a meetin' to see what oughter be done next, and we got to quar'lin' amongst ourselves. Some blamed the committee fer not gittiu the right sort er c-andydate, an' some blamed the fault-finding members 'at could n't be suited with nobody. Thet riz two parties, an' the biggest party excommunicated the smallest one. Then it got to quar'lin' and split again, and the merjorryty excommunicated the mernorryty. An' so it went on, till I wuz the only one left in the church. I sold the meetin'-house ter the Uuiversalists, ao' give the money ter the S'ciety fer the Eddycatiou 122 THE EOCKANOOK STAGE. of Cherubims fer the Ministry. I wuz awfully 'buzed, I can tell ye, an' so wuz the rest on us, an' sassed an' laughed at, an' so forth an' so on, but, land ! I never budged an inch, ner give in 'at I wuz wrong. Sez I, "I'll either git a minister 'at nobody kin find fault with, or else I '11 bust out the hull concern ! " An' I did.' "I thanked Lezer for the light of his experience, and asked for the postofflce address of the Cherubim Society. He took a step closer to me and said sadly, ' The ongrateful critters hes gone an' made a regger- lation 'at no cherubim shell go out candidatin'. But you keep right on the way you 're doin', Doc. Don't ye give in. Don't ye let 'em bluff ye. They '11 try ter. They 're laughin' at ye, an' callin' ye The Church o' the Holy Coxcombs, an' jokin' about yer callin' St. Paul, an' refusin' Gabriel, an' so forth an' so on. But don't ye let 'em bluff ye. You jest go in fer a man 'at nobody kin find fault with, er else bust the church.' " " The impudent fellow I " exclaimed Helen warmly. 1 ' I don't see how the rest of you can be amused at such impertinence. It's a very serious matter, and one, begging Sir Oracle's pardon, quite beyond his comprehension." " I think he has put the case very fairly and forci- bly," said the doctor. "I don't think the deacon could have done better, and I know that I could not." A HOME THRUST. 123 " But you don't tell me," said Lucy, " that there is really any serious truth in his representation ? Surely, no Christian church could think of adopting the exhi- bition plan for getting a minister." ''It is the customary method, my unsophisticated sister," replied Dr. Ashley. " What-! set them up, one after another, to show off before an audience assembled for the express purpose of criticism?" " Certainly ; did you never attend such an enter- tainment? " " Never ! " " You shall see one to-morrow." "Do you suppose I would go? Do you think 1 have no morals? Attend a game of cruelty, and on Sunday? Why, I would not go to see a bull- fight when I was in Madrid, and I am sure this is worse." " Of course it is," said the doctor. "Tom and Lu, you are talking nonsense, both of you, and you know it!" cried Helen. "How can a church tell whether they want a man as their pastor if they don't see him and hear him? Come now? " " What can they tell by a Sunday parade, except that he is not preaching for any legitimate purpose?" retorted Lucy. " Please to answer my question before you bring 124 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. forward your own. In what other way can a church proceed intelligently?" persisted Helen. " I have answered it by another question. I will answer by another still. How are teachers, college professors, clerks, servant girls, judges, governors, presidents chosen? Is the ministry the only calling in which the candidate's eligibility cannot be ascer- tained without making him contemptible? For my part, I am in favor of the new ' reggerlation ' of the Cherubim Society. If I were a clergyman, I would sooner cut off my right hand than make such an exhibition of myself." " I think," said the deacon, " that Miss Darling is about right. The candidating system is a bad one, and it has worked very badly for us. The more can- didates we hear, the harder we are to suit, and the farther we are from a choice. We 've heard, I sup- pose, twenty candidates, and I do believe we should be better off to-day with the poorest one in the lot, than we are with everything unsettled this way, and a church scattered like a flock without a shepherd." " A flock without an appetite ! That 's what 's the matter, deacon," said the doctor with a ringing slap upon his thigh ; " a flock with bad digestion, bilious, spleeuy, and subject to nausea, colic, and fits ; a flock that can't eat good grass and won't eat dry hay, but cries for cut feed and lumps of sugar and high- A HOME TirnrsT. 125 seasoned hot gruel ! Talk about supplying such a pack of sick lambs as that ! What they need is a good, big dose of starvation." " We are likely to get one to-morrow, are n't we? " asked Helen quietly, without looking up from her darning. ''There it is again!" said the doctor. "We are going for the twentieth time through the ceremony of hearing a candidate. We shall then hold the church mi'i-ting of the corresponding number. Each member will have his objections, expressed or concealed; each objection will produce an adverse vote, and the aggregate objections will reject the candidate. Then we shall call ' Next,' and go through the process again. And we have the effrontery to call this heathenish farce maintaining the ordinances of the gospel ! " "I think the doctor's a little too hard," said the deacon, smiling deprecatingly, and again looking at Lucy, who had the power of drawing other people's eyes toward her in general conversation. "It a'n't quite so bad as that, but it 's bad enough ; it 's too bad, it is, indeed, and I feel as if it must somehow be mended. We're getting a bad reputation, for one thing ; though, of course, that a'n't so bad as it is to deserve it." "A bad reputation? the church?" said Helen quickly, for the church was to her as the" apple of her 126 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. eye. "Oh, no! I don't think it is a matter of repu- tation. That is Lezer's fiction. What have other people to do with it, anyway?" " I don't mean people in general, but other churches. We have the name of being notional, conceited, hard to suit. I 've had it thrown up at me more 'n once by brethren in other places." " Then I say, brethren in other places are imperti- nent, that 's all ! " responded Helen warmly. "Well, I don't know as I think it is altogether impertinent, Sister Ashley. We are all of a family together ; when one member suffers, all suffer. But, as I was saying, it 's worse to deserve a bad reputa- tion than it is to have it. I confess that when I wrote to that young Mr. Nosham last summer, and asked him to come here as a candidate, and he refused flat out, and said that from what he learned about us he was sure he would n't suit us, or we him, I just felt to hold my peace." "Why, Mr. Wauberton, I think it's a wicked slander ! I don't care you can't find a nicer set of people anywhere than our church, if -you count out present company. I can't stand it to have such things said about them, and by a young upstart like that Nosham or Allsham, whichever he may be." "No more can I, and I propose that we put a stop to it." A HOME THRUST. 127 "How?" " Get a pastor within sixty days." " Capital plan ! " said the doctor. " I think I '11 try something like it in my profession. ' Messrs. A, B, and C,' say I, ' put a stop to this pneumonia, this typhoid fever, this one-leggedness.' 'How?' say Messrs. A, B, and C. ' By getting well,' say I." The deacon smiled serenely. "You got a very good turn on me, doctor, but I stick up to what I said. Of course I don't mean to cure our complaint without remedies." " For instance?" " Humility." " Excellent, if not taken in too large doses. Go on." " Mutual forbearance." " Works well with some temperaments ; not a favorite with me." " Putting away prejudices." " Valuable remedy for many disorders. Directions : Three times a day and before retiring. Anything else? " ' ' Exhortation to the church on the necessity of agreement." " DnninTotis, but efficient in skillful hands. Sweeten to the taste and administer as occasion requires." "Tom Ashley," said Helen, "do stop your non- 128 THE XOCKANOCK STAGE. sense ! I won't Lave this thing turned into ridicule. It is too serious a matter, and you feel it to be so, just as much as Mr. Wauberton does ; you know you do. Now listen to sense." "Give us some then, little wifey." "Mr. \Vaubertou has the floor. Now, Mr. Wau- berton, tell us what is to be done, and I will keep the doctor in subjection with my darning needle." She drew the weapon from the stocking, like a dagger from its sheath, and held it menacingly be- tween her thumb and fingers. Then, as the deacon resumed his discourse, the other hand stole softly over to the doctor's on the arm of his chair, and closed over a. couple of his ample fingers with a playful little squeeze. There was a sidelong interchange of looks, and the faintest trace of a smile on either face, and they turned toward the speaker, who had already turned toward Lucy. Lucy had seen the bit of con- nubial pantomime, and had been strangely touched by it. " Helen is happy then," she said to herself ; " and this sparring and scolding is only the pretty coquetry of lovers." " My idea," the deacon was saying, " is something like this : Let 's make up our minds to like this Mr. Dorchison that's going to preach for us to-morrow. He comes well recommended. His record in other fields is good. He has the esteem of his ministerial A HOME THRUST. 129 brethren. He 's been fairly successful. What more do we want? You don't like him very well, and I don't ; but others do, and I 've made up my mind that I will. I 'm going to meeting to-morrow not to be pleased, but to worship God and to listen to the gospel, if I'm the only one in the house that does it." " You sha'n't be the only one, deacon," said the doctor heartily ; " I '11 join you for all I 'm worth." " So will I," said Helen with a tighter squeeze on the two fingers. " So will I," added Maggie timidly. "Well," said the deacon, "there's four of us; and I suppose five," looking at Lucy with one of his most persuasive smiles. Lucy colored deeply. " I am hardly one who ought to have anything to say on such a matter," she replied. " As a stranger, and a very recent arrival, and " " Oh, you are one of us, you are one of us!" in- terrupted the deacon, waving the objection aside with a gesture. " You don't have to be naturalized before you can vote on this question." " What question, please?" "Whether we will be spectators or worshipers to-morrow." " I fear I shall have to be counted among the spectators, Mr. Waubertou. I am only a sort of pagan, as Helen says." 130 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. " Lu ! " cried Helen in distress, " you know I was not in earnest." " But I am entirely so," said Lucy quietly. There was a quality in the tone and a look in the eyes that brought the conversation to a pause. " We have all been pagans together," said Maggie, rising to go. " But now we are going to put away our idols and our heathenish rites and customs, and try to do as the good missionaries tell us, are n't we, papa ? " CHAPTER X. PAGAN OR CHRISTIAN. ON her way to her own room, lamp in one hand and mending basket in the other, Mrs. Ashley stopped at Lucy's door, which was not very tightly closed. " Is there anything more you wish, Lu? " she asked softly. " Yes, please," said a voice within. Mrs. Ashley pushed the door open with her foot, backed against it to close it, deposited her basket on a chair and her lamp on the table and went to the bedside. ' What is it, dear? " she said. " I want to hug you." " You darling girl ! " said Helen, kneeling and laying her face against the soft, fair cheek on the pillow, while Lucy helped herself to the hug. " It is such a dfiiiiht to have you with us, and so good in you to come! Hut it is dreadfully selfish in me to let you. You will liud it iiisulTenilily stupid here. We have nothing to offer you ; no life, no congenial society nothing." 131 132 TUB EOCKAXOCK STAGE. " Do you call this nothing? " said Lucy, tightening the hug. " Oh, you can't live on that, you precious goosey ! It will lose its novelty very soon, fascinating as I am." " Tom doesn't seem to have tired of you." "Isn't he splendid!" cried Helen with a glowing face. " It 's a shame, though, to apply such a hack- neyed word to him. He 's just the grandest, noblest fellow in the world." " I am glad you are so happy together. Most married people give me the impression that they find each other rather disappointing. I am glad it is not so with you and Tom. But you are always teasing one another. Teasing seems to me a strange way to ex- press affection ; for of course it hurts, just a little, to be teased." "Tom doesn't tease. He's full of fun brimful from morning till night; but he doesn't tease. He 's too kind to do that. But I 'm not. I 'm an incorrigible tease. I can't help it. It is just irrepres- sible wickedness in me. And, oh, dear Lu ! it was hateful in me to carry on so about that Mr. MacWhat's- his-name. I know it vexed you." "Why no it didn't vex me in the least. Why should it? You didn't know how I detest that man, and shrink from him." " What makes you feel that way about him? " PAGAN OR CHRISTIAN. 133 " Nothing makes me feel it. I just feel it, that's all. I never met him but that once, and then I scarcely spoke to him or saw him, and he behaved admirably. But all the time we were singing I felt his eyes. Do you ever feel people's eyes ? " "No!" " Well, I do, and I felt his. I wanted to get away from him, and when I caught a glimpse of him to-day I felt as if I saw an enemy, and almost as if I were be- ing pursued. Of course it was sheer nonsense, but I could n't bear it. I could n't endure the thought of his speaking to me ; and I resolved not to give him the least chance to do it, or even to see me, if I could help it. Did you ever hear of such a ninny? " "No." "Well, I knew there was just one seat inside, and that if I took that before he came, he would have to sit with the driver, and so would not see me. It was dreadfully hard to give up all the pleasure of the ride, especially the view through the arch, of which you had written ; but it was the least of two evils. I really think the driver was sorry to give me up ; but he did n't leave me without entertainment. His conversation with Mr. MacWhiskers, as he called him, was perfectly audible, and, I suspect, was meant partly for my benefit. But it was unmercifully aggravating to the victim. I could n't help pitying him, much as I detested him. You've seen the creature?" 134 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. "At a distance, yes." " Then you know that he is principally beard. Imagine him compelled to take part in a most serious discussion on the subject of beard culture as a branch of industry ! " Here Lucy reported the discussion at length, while Helen held her sides, interpolating "Ohs" and "Oh, dears!" and wishing that Tom could only hear it. Then followed, with similar interjections from the audience, an account of the catechetical exercise on the subject of Tiglath Pilezer. Helen's convulsions of mirth were suddenly stopped by a faint sound in a distant room. " There goes the night bell ! " she exclaimed. " Poor Tom ! he hasn't been asleep half an hour, and he is so tired ! " She arose to go. "Good night, dear,"' she said with a kiss. " I must see what is wanted, and whether it is really necessary to wake Tom." " Won't he wake, anyway ? " " Oh, no ! I don't let him, unless I know it is un- avoidable. The night bell is to wake me ; then I wake Tom, if I think best." " How good you are ! " " Nonsense ! What is that to do for such a man? There 's the bell again. I must go ; " and she took up the basket and the lamp. Will you come back to me then?" OR CHRISTIAN. 135 "To-night?" "Yes." " No, child ; go to sleep. Look at the clock there. In half an hour it will be Sunday. What else do you want to say to me ? " " That at night, when one goes to sleep, it is n't nice to be a pagan." Helen was already at the door. " Then don't show that you are one by laying up my foolish speeches against me. There goes that horrid bell again. They will wake Tom ! " and away she went. Had she been in less haste she might have noticed a little tremor in tin- voice, and a certain gleam in the eyes, which would have put Lucy's last words in a different light. Yet the pretty pagan had really no serious pain to conceal. A single tear of self-pity stole out from under the brown lashes as they closed for the night, arid that was all. The morning found her as blithe and buoyant as the robins in the garden ; and she answered their vehe- ment trills with a soft little wordless song as sweet as their own. The morning toilet ended, she stood a moment at the mirror, enjoying the fair vision which it presented to her without a taint of vanity in her heart, but with that delight in the beautiful with which she would have contemplated any other picture equnlly charming. Then, with a thrill of gratefulness to the vaguely apprehended Power that had bestowed upon 136 THE liOCKANOVK STACK. her, as upon the lilies of the field, the gift of outward grace, she went to the window aud threw up the sash. No sound or sign of human life reached her, but nature was radiant aud vocal. The rich masses of foliage ; the apple trees like mounds of white and pink ; the great stretches of meadow, with the Onono wandering about among the grazing herds ; the green slopes of the opposite hills, with the stage road zigzag- ging up their face; the pale, blue sky, into which the belated moon was melting to a film of gray ; the bird notes from every tree ; the hum and rustle of the invis- ible myriads of living things ; the ceaseless undertone of the waterfall at the mill ; the transparency and sweetness of the air ; the sunshine flooding and glori- fying the world, filled the maiden's heart with a great joy. Then there came to her the question of the stage driver "Do you s'pose any man could stand here five minutes, with his eyes and ears open, and not think of Him? Do you s'pose any woman could? Then they ha'n't got no heart ! " A momentary shadow seemed to fall over the glorified earth before her, and she turned away from this window, and crossed to the one looking toward the east. Here nature had less to offer her, and man more. The pub- lic street was visible, with persons passing. Houses, Stores, church spires were there. And at the farther PAGAN OR CHRISTIAN. 137 side of the garden appeared the gable of a brown cot- tage, with its one window in full view. And there stood, apparently rapt in contemplation of nature, a gentleman with a very long black beard. " Detesta- ble ! " exclaimed Lucy. She was in the act of raising the sash, and in the half second or so required to finish that act, had studied the situation, considered three or four possible courses withdrawing before he should discover her, standing there and ignoring him, etc., and had decided what to do. Reaching out, ns if pursuing the purpose for which she had opened the window, she closed the blinds, shut and fastened the sash, and drew down the opaque shade within. " There ! " said she, astonished to feel her cheeks grow so hot. " That shall not be opened again till the Waubertous change boarders ! " " What you say, Aunt Yucy?" said a small voice behind her, and an invisible hand pulled at her dress. " Margie ! " cried Lucy, turning and catching up the five-year-old caller in her arms. " Who knew you were here?" " I knewd it, and Rufie knewd it," said the young lady, smoothing out her skirts with some concern, as Lucy set her down, and holding up a doll as daintily dressed as herself. " Is your dolly named Rufie? Whom did you name her for?" 138 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. 44 Why, Rufe, don't you know, in the Bible?" " Oh, Ruth, is it? She was very nice." 44 She 's my Sunday dolly, Rufie is. My evwyday dolly is Betsey." 44 Don't you have the same dollies every day?" 44 Oh, no ! mamma would n't like that. We have evwyday dollies an' Sunday dollies, an' evwyday play- lings an' Sunday playfings, an' evwyday dwesses an' Sunday dwesses. All the nicest fings we have Sunday. Don't you fiuk Sunday 's splendid? " 44 I think this Sunday is." 44 Is that your Sunday dwess you got on?" 44 I don't know ; do you think it will do? " 44 1 fink it's pitty. But I guess you better ask my mamma. Oh, I forgot soinefin ; my mamma says bwekfas sreddy." 44 Indeed! and do you have nicer breakfasts on Sunday than on other days?" 4k Course we do. Evwyfing's nicest for Sunday." As they entered the breakfast room, Helen, baby May, and Ned formed a pretty tableau by the hearth. Ned was a year older than Margie, but far more difli- dcnt. He won Lucy's heart at once by saying as be rather reluctantly submitted to her good-morning kiss, 44 You've got a light inside, haven't you? It made the room sorter light up when you came in." The doctor was not present. He had returned near PAGAN OR CHRISTIAN. 139 morning from a bard night's work and was making up lost sleep. Helen excelled in breakfasts a rare talent among housekeepers. With her, that much-neglected meal, which so often advertises the housewife's slovenliness and incompetence, was as carefully managed in its modest way as a great dinner party. Curl papers, uncombed hair hidden under a breakfast cap, negligent costumes, defective cuisine were abominations which she could not tolerate. Though she knew that only her children would enjoy the meal with her, her own toik-t and theirs were always carefully made and every detail of preparation and service was insisted upon. The appointments of the table linen, china, glass, silver though not luxurious, were good in quality and tasteful in design. There were generally a few fresh flowers, and always little touches of the house- wife's hands, making all perfect. The table was thus a delight to the eye quite as much as to the palate. When the doctor was absent, which, to her sorrow, was all too often, Helen performed his duties in addi- tion to her own, and with admirable grace. She was a ready and entertaining talker, not because she had studied the art of conversation or made any effort to maintain it, but from the spontaneous flow of good spirits and amiability. Her cheek burned a little as j-he >aid grace for the first time in her sister's pres- ence, but Lucy thought it very beautiful. 110 THE BOCKAXOCK STAGE. " You will feel yourself in a pretty small world here, Lucy," she said as she poured the coffee. "It is the most delightful world I was ever in," Lucy replied. " You cannot imagine how delicious it is to be in a bonajide home." " But the seminary was a home, so the catalogue said." " It has a sweet, motherly woman for its principal, and plenty of sweet, sisterly girls with some, like me, not so sisterly. But no school can be a real home, because a hundred girls cannot be a family, any more than a barrel of apples can be an orchard. A home must be composite ; it must have light and shade, pro- portion, perspective I don't know how to say it, but I know what it is and what it is not. Sometimes when I went home with a classmate, or was invited into some congenial family in the town, it was like a little bit of heaven." tk What is a geen-yul family?" asked Ned. "Papa, mamma, Ned, Margie, baby, and me; that's a congenial family." " And Rufie," said Margie. "Oh, certainly; Ruthie on Sunday and Betsey on week-days. What is home without dollies? " Breakfast over, Helen conducted family worship ; a little nervously, but with admirable propriety, Ned sitting on an ottoman at her feet and Margie climbing PAGAN OR CHRISTIAN. 141 into Lucy's lap. "Dear Tom has to be away so much," Helen said, "and it does n't seem right to let our family religion depend upon that. Do you think it should?" " No, certainly not; I like your way very much. I could n't do such a thing myself, but I am glad you can." " I should once have said that I could not, but I > can for the children's sake." While Lucy was preparing for church, Margie again presented herself, already fully dressed. "Do you go to church, little Miss Prim?" asked Lucy. " Course I do ! I dess Dod would n't like it vewy well if I did n't come." " Then I would go without fail." " I dess he is n't spectin you ; is he? " " That's a question I had u't asked myself, dear." " I dess he '11 be pitty glad when he sees you come in." " Oh, I hope so, darling, when he sees the beautiful angel with me." CHAPTER XI. ON EXHIBITION. T~)OCKBY was a church-going community, being -L V composed chiefly of a choice selection of New England families and those of near or remote New O England descent. The place was provided with the usual assortment of small churches, which contrived among them to secure the allegiance of nearly the entire population. Persons who were not attached to some congregation and not occasionally seen at the Sabbath services were rare exceptions : while what is known in the great cities as the "floating popula- tion" did not exist in Rockby. Amid the sweet dissonance of the jangling bells the people thronged the streets, exchanging neighborly greetings as they met, and each one falling into the particular sectarian streamlet which flowed toward the church of his choice. The largest of these streams made its way to a cer- tain brick structure of pleasing exterior, about which were hitched a score or more of country teams, interspersed with here and there a more pretentious carriage. It was to this edifice that the Ashleys went, 0-V EXHIBITION. 143 accompanied by Lucy, of course, and followed at some little distance by the Wauberton household. Three objects of interest divided the attention of the congregation during the hour of alleged worship which followed ; Lucy, Mr. MacAllan, and the preacher, bearing importance in the order in which they have been named. Lucy was undoubtedly first. As has already been said, the Rockby public had long been in a state of expectation and speculation over her coming, and nothing that could be learned or guessed concerning her had been omitted. Her beauty, her brilliancy, her fine education, her wealth, exaggerated to at least fifty times the modest truth, were matters of common fame. Her piety, her matrimonial prospects, her probable relation to Rockby society, were fascinating problems. And now that she was actually on exhibi- tion, under circumstances so favorable both to display and to observation, it was not to be expected that any ther object would distract the attention of the audi- ence. It is gratifying to know that the general impression was favorable. People had taken it for granted that the occasion would be felt by her to be a momentous one in her career ; that she would look forward to it with eagerness and yet with trepidation ; that she would neglect no effort to make an impression ; that 1 M Tin-: UOCKAXOCK she would be unable to conceal her self -consciousness and even embarrassment, grand as she was. But of all this there was not the remotest sign. She appeared to be, as she really was, unconscious that the occasion was exceptional, or that she was an object of attention. She was beautiful ; but her beauty was not' of the obtrusive kind. It was a beauty which excited no jealousy, and which drew attention away from itself to the finer qualities which underlay it. It demanded no homage, no admiration. Her dress was faultless in taste but seemed a part of herself, of which she was quite unconscious. Her manner was attentive and serious, some thought devout ; and the way in which little Margie nestled up to her and drew from her now and then a look of affection was not lost upon some of the observers. ' k I think we are going to like her," was the silent verdict of many a one among them. N\-xt to Lucy, Mr. Allan MacAllan was honored with the notice of his fellow worshipers. His advent among them, unlike hers, had been wholly unexpected, and created a very different kind of sensation. He had been deposited beard and baggage at the hotel steps by the Rockanock stage during the previous week and seemed to have come to stay. He had se- cured board in a private family, had opened a bank account, had rented an office, had made some very significant inquiries about real estate, and had created OJV EXHIBITION. 145 a general impression that he was a capitalist, and the representative of other capitalists, with whom it be- hooved every business man in Rockby to be on good terms. His high breeding, his air of easy affluence, his suavity and undeniable good looks, were already recog- nized. It was regarded as auspicious of much good to the church that he had selected it as his place of worship. Whether or not he was hopefully pious was not yet certainly known, though his air was that of a believer. And when he joined in the singing with his fine tenor voice, those around him almost stopped to listen, and the Music Committee felt like voting him an invitation on the spot to transfer his talents to the choir gallery. Let it not be understood that the entire congregation w:i^ occupied in this scrutiny of the two strangers. Many did not even know of their existence. Others \\viv not aware of any reason for noticing them. Others still were at church for too serious a purpose to be affected by any such diverting influence. But there was a considerable number who were overcome by it ; and it must be confessed that they were for the most part among the more influential members. There were a number of "leading ladies" in the congregation, those upon whom chiefly rested the responsibility of the social life of the parish, who could not ignore the importance of such an accession as Lucy, and to whom 146 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. her availability as an attractive and propelling force was a matter of great moment. I take no account here of the reflections of young men who regarded her in the light of possible flirtations, or of the young ladies who looked upon her as a possible rival. I speak only of those unworldly views which connected her with the interests of the church. If Lucy chiefly interested the " leading ladies," Mr. Allan MacAllan chiefly interested the masculine " seven pillars," more or less the men who managed the church finances, and held that such things ought to be managed on business principles, you know, just as any other financial scheme would be, you know. To them the securing of such an auxiliary as this young man, with his presumed social standing and his unknown fortune, was an opportunity which it were wicked to neglect. Mr. Allan MacAllan was not so unconscious as Lucy was of what was in the atmosphere of the church. He was in Rockby for the purpose of mak- ing an impression, and intended to lose no opportunity and neglect no means of doing so. The good opinion of his neighbors was so much capital to him, particu- larly the good opinion of the aforesaid seven pillars and leading ladies of this church. He deliberately placed himself on exhibition, and did not suffer him- self to forget his position for one moment. To 0-V EXHIBITION. 147 advance himself in general estimation, as a means of advancement in the estimation of Miss Lucy Darling, \vas at present the chief aim of existence to him. For this he went to the Waubertons to board. For. this he arranged his business relations. For this he selected his place of worship. For this he made his Sunday toilet, to the last hair of his phenomenal whiskers. For this he ostensibly worshiped God in the use of his very best tenor. Could he have known that Lucy thought often about him during the service, knew that he was there, and had once actually looked at him, he would have been beside himself with exulta- tion. Could he have known the nature of her thoughts and what was really expressed in that one glance, he would have been in despair. The next object of interest to the congregation was the preacher. And though to a people long ago hard- ened to the candidating process he was less diverting than the two others, he undoubtedly attracted the notice of more persons, and secured the largest aggre- gate of attention, as he conducted the so-called wor- ship, and performed a literary and oratorical exercise supposed to be preaching the gospel. The Rev. Philetus Dorchison was a truly pious and conscientious man. He had entered the ministry from the most commendable motives, and had devoted himself to its duties with rare zeal and success, la 148 THE KOCKANOCK STAGE. the parish where he had now spent five laborious years he had given every proof of fidelity and ability. He was studious, eloquent, spiritual, evangelistic, impress- ive as ;i preacher, efficient as a pastor, beloved by his people, and very popular in the community. All these facts and many more were known to the people of Rockby enough to establish his fitness for any pas- torate in the State. But the only result which they led to was an invitation to Mr. Dorchisou to preach in the Rockby church as a candidate. There were certain considerations relating partly to health and partly to the increasing disproportion between Mr. Dorchisou's salary and the expenses of his growing family considerations entirely honorable to him which made a change of fields desirable. He detested candidating, and his brave little wife rebelled even more than he did against the humilia- tion. So far as support was concerned, it was better to submit to any privation. She would almost rather starve. But when it came to a question of health, of life and death perhaps, they must yield. So he went. He tried to feel exactly right about it ; to maintain his self-respect; to look upon the parish instead of himself as the candidating party. He resolved to preach just as he would at home. He prayed for grace to forget all that was personal and to seek the highest ends of preaching. But his first O.V EXHIBITION. 149 look into the faces of that congregation, with its watchful, critical eyes, putting into the balances every word, every tone, every gesture, overpowered him. How could he be anything but self-conscious and, so, artificial and insincere? And how could they be other than unsympathetic and unresponsive? Subsequent glances at his hearers, however, showed him that there were some there who were not mere spectators and critics. Among these were to be numbered the Wuubertons and the Ashleys, who were faithfully carrying out the resolutions of the night before, and were find ing real profit and enjoyment in the services. There was another who, to whatever extent she may have responded to the truth preached, felt a profound sympathy for the preacher and showed it in every line of her face. He noticed her, and cast glances at her again and again as he went on, and always met that same eager, helpful look. He spoke of it to Mrs. Dorchison after reaching home. " I wonder who it can be. Some young minister's wife, perhaps, who could put herself in my place. Her face was like an angel's among the stolid, staring faces around her. She seemed to be trying to say to inc. 'Don't l>e afraid of them; don't let them look you out of countenance ; don't let them freeze the soul out of you with their fey looks.' It was almost as good as having you before me. She is somebody's little saint, I know." 150 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. The Ashleys all spoke appreciatingly of the candi- date. " If he is as good as that all the way through," said the doctor, "he's a treasure for us or anybody else." "I have decided one thing," said Lucy; "I will never, never be a minister's wife. I am actually ex- hausted by the strain upon my sympathies. If he were some one that I cared for, and I had to go through such an agony of solicitude every week, it would drive me mad." " Pshaw ! " said Tom, "it's ten times harder to be a doctor's wife." " Oh, of course," replied Lucy ; " I decided against doctors years ago." ' ' Whom will you marry then ? " "Marry, sir? Who spoke of marrying? It is the delusion of mankind that every girl wants a husband ; whereas they accept matrimony with great reluctance, and only under the clearest convictions of duty. For my single self, I propose to be a nun, and secure a permanent appointment as Sister of Charity and general missionary to this family." The doctor's office bell rang and he rose to go. "You take a great weight from my mind," said he. ''A Sister of Charity would supply a long-felt want. A lovely and pious young--lady, willing to make herself generally useful and warranted to have no beaux, O.V EXHIBITION. 151 would make our cup of happiness full. I can't recom- mend the situation to you, except to say that it will afford a rare combination of usefulness and penance." " And a chance to amend the missionary's opinion of doctors," added Helen as he made his exit. It was late in the afternoon of the same day that Margie sat on Lucy's lap, holding her Sunday doll and listening to a simple paraphrase of the story of the original Ruth, occasionally supplying details with which she was familiar. "Aunt Yucy," said she, "is you doin to live wiv us frevvernever?" "That is a long time, Margie," Lucy answered, looking gravely into the blue eyes. " Is you?" persisted the child. "I hope so. Oh, I hope so, darling, for ever and ever." A CHAPTER XII. THE ROCKBY MAIL. N inscription in faint yellow letters on the door of the Rockanock stage gave the world notice that this nondescript vehicle was the authorized conveyer of the United States mail. The small leather pouch bestowed under the driver's legs was to him a momentous trust ; and, in view of its possi- ble contents and consequences, sometimes filled him with awe. " Jest think," he would say, " what that air rusty old bag 's loaded with ! love letters 'n' dunnin' letters 'n' beggin' letters, 'n' news o' weddin's, births, deaths, 'u' accidents, slander 'n' soft soap, blessin' 'n' cussin', money 'n' duebills, presents, valentines, invitations, praisin' one pussuu an' sassiu' another, makin' one laugh an' another cry, poppin' the question to-day an' fetchin' the feller the mitten to-morrer. Would I like to know what's in it once? Not much. No money wouldn't hire me to. I can guess more 'n I can stand, any day." . Possibly the reader may share Lezer's unwillingness to know the contents of other people's letters ; but it seems necessary to a proper understanding of our 152 THE ROCKBY MAIL. 153 story that the prejudice be so far overcome as to admit certain correspondence of a somewhat confi- dential character. The Rev. Philetus Dorchison made so favorable an impression that he was invited to come again, then- again, and yet again. With each visit the number of his admirers increased, and their favorable comments were' conveyed to him, directly or indirectly, while remarks of an uncomplimentary character were politely reserved for other ears than his. Views concerning the candidate were freely exchanged by members of the congregation at their firesides, on the street, at the sewing society, in after-meeting conversations, and in every sort of casual interview. Some enter- tained very positive convictions pro or con; some were undecided ; some were ready to acquiesce with the majority, and some waived their own opinions in deference to those known to be held by certain persons who must not be offended, as, for instance, the new acquisition, Mr. Allan MacAllan. Mr. Dorchison had gone home, after his fourth Sabbath at Rockby, with the conviction that the church and society meetings, notices of which he had read from the pulpit on that day, would vote him a formal call to the pastorate. Mrs. Dorchison, who kiH-w her husband's merits far better than he did, had not a doubt of it, and was already planning for the 154 THE BOCKASOCK STAGE. removal ami dreading the ordeal to which she was to be subjected as the wife of the new and popular pastor. Their present parishioners had taken the alarm, were overwhelming them with expressions of affectionate appreciation, and were prepared to enter an earnest protest against their pastor's removal when the expected call from Rockby should arrive. On the following Thursday he came from the mail with a letter bearing the Rockby postmark, which he waved exultantly over Mrs. Dorchison's head. Push- ing him into a chair, and perching herself upon the arm, she prepared to enjoy the triumph with him. The letter was in the usual form, certifying to the action of the church and society in extending to him a call to their pastorate, and expressing the hope that his answer would be favorable, and that an early day might be fixed for the beginning of his labors among them. The signatures of the two committees were appended, headed by the name of Dr. Ashley, by whose hand the letter was written. Accompanying the official missive was a personal note from the doctor, which proved by far the more sensational document of the two. My dear Mr. Dorchison, You requested, and I promised, that in case of a call being extended to you, I would frankly inform you how the vote stood, whether any positive opposition were developed, and THE HOC 'KB Y MAIL. 155 whether it were likely to prove troublesome in the future. I trust that the good sense, which led you to exact this promise from me, will prevent your attach- ing undue significance to the facts stated, or making them the ground of declining our call. In the church the vote was about three to one ; in the society it was carried by a majority of two. You will perhaps be sui-piised and annoyed at such a result, but let me assure you that it is a remarkable triumph. You are the only man out of more than a score of candidates who cuuld have secured any majority at all. Your friends are the cream of the church, and though the opposition includes some influential parishioners, it is not vicious, and will readily disappear under your wise management. In twelve months you will have, I feel sure, unanimous and hearty support. Do not refuse us. Very cordially yours, THOMAS ASHLEY. Mr. Dorchison hung his head in mortification. His little wife sprang to her feet with flashing eyes, caught the two letters from him, crushed them in her hands, and flung them out of the window. u A majority of two ! " she cried indignantly, " for such a man as you, Philetus ! and the flattering hope that you will in time live down opposition ! " "I think, Nettie," said he trying to smile, "that you and I will be a majority of two in favor of declin- ing the call." 156 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. " Declining it! I hope you will not content your- self with declining their insulting old letter." " No, dear. I will do one thing more ; I will record a resolution never again to degrade myself and dis- honor the gospel by making a clerical showman of myself ! " So the call was promptly and definitely declined, though not without some difficulty concerning the phraseology to be employed, especially in the response to Dr. Ashley's personal note. This done, the Dor- chisons took up their parochial duties with renewed satisfaction, albeit with a sense of humiliation. Their parishioners rejoiced in their victory over Rockby, but were a little puzzled to account for it, and inclined to think somewhat less highly of their pastor. "I don't like this coquetting with other churches," said one. "If we are not good enough for him, why don't he say so? " " He did n't seem to take very well over there," said another. li The call wasn't very unanimous, I hear." Within a year Mr. Dorchison resigned on account of unpleasant feeling in the parish, clearly traceable to the Rockby episode. The same mail that brought Mr. Dorchison's letter to Dr. Ashley, also brought one from Major Gibson Concerning another candidate. THE ROCKET MAIL. 157 Dear Tom, Mr. Transington, one of our special set, has a classmate, a young theologne, named Austin, for whom he is anxious to find a settlement at the West. Lucy will remember him as the guest of the Trausiugtons on the last Sunday she spent here. He is a big, awkward, homely fellow, lame in one leg, and with no capacity for blowing his own trumpet ; but Transiugton says there is splendid stuff in him, and is very anxious that you should hear him, if the way is open. Should you wish for further informa- tion, apply at this office. I have exhausted my own stock, but Transington is full of it, and guarantees an A 1 set of testimonials, if you are open to conviction. Tell Lucy it 's that poky chap that sang with her on Sunday afternoon. I would give fifty dollars this minute to heur them sing again, and a hundred and fifty to hear Lucy alone no disrespect to the poky chap. I have been a poky chap myself since she went away. Her visit was the brightest spot in my life for twenty years. If she does n't promise to live half the time in Chicago, I will move to Rockby for good and all. Tell her no, you need n't I '11 tell her myself. Love to her and Helen and the children. Yours, O. T. GIBSON. " Love for the rest of you, and business for me," said the doctor. " So be it. It 's a kind of business that I am likely to have enough of before I 'm done 158 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. with it. Here 's a promising candidate for you ; ' big ; awkward, homely, poky, lame in one leg, but war- ranted to have splendid stuff in him ! ' Reference, Miss Lucy Darling, who knows him thoroughly, hav- ing once sung a hymn with him ! What says my fair referee ? " " She vouches for all the qualities ascribed to him except the splendid stuff, of which she has no knowl- edge. Moreover, being, as before stated, a fair referee, she deposes and says that he impresses the said referee as a dull and uninteresting specimen of bis kind, who has probably mistaken his calling." " I submit," said Helen, "that the impressions of a referee, however fair, should not weigh against posi- tive testimony. At any rate, we ought, for the major's sake at least, to make further inquiries about the man; yes, and hear him, too. Why not? Sup- pose he does n't succeed ; there is no harm done, and we shall have shown proper respect for the wishes of the major and his friend. I say, let him come, Tom." "He would be a new variety, anyhow," said the doctor, laughing; " we haven't had a lame one yet, I believe. I will go over and talk with the deacon about it." " Oh, dear ! " sighed Mrs. Ashley as the door closed behind him, lk must we begin this dreary busi- THE HOC KB Y MAIL. 159 ness over again? It drives poor Tom distracted, and all the rest of us too. I think Mr. Dorchison might have come." " What! against the opposition of one third of the church and nearly one half of the society?" asked Lucy. " I am glad he declined the call." " I thought you liked him." u So I do, and that is the reason I don't want to see him suffer rnartydom. I like him more than ever for his refusal, and would have liked him better still had he declined to be a candidate in the first place." ' In which case ypu would never have seen him, and therefore could not have liked him at all," laughed Helen. "You reason badly," retorted Lucy; "the less I see of people the better I like them, especially clergy- men." " Now, seriously, Lu, what plan would you propose for securing a pastor for a vacant church? for our church, for instance?" "Well, if public sentiment permitted, I would seize one by force. If not, I would choose him by lot. Either method would involve risks, but nothing to compare with candidating." " You are a wicked, trifling girl; but I can't scold you as you deserve. Indeed, you almost make me agree with you. AVhen Tom conies back I will see if ICO THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. he cannot get you appointed on the committee of supply." But the committee alluded to were by no means pre- pared to abandon the candidating plan. The appear- ance of a new clerical possibility in the person of Mr. Dudley Austin gave them fresh hope, and the next few days were spent in collecting information concerning him. Tbe result was so satisfactory that he was duly invited to put himself on exhibition in the pulpit as candidate number twenty-three. His reply w:is promptly received, and gave some hint of that stuff which his friend had called splendid. It was a courteous but explicit refusal to be a candi- date under any circumstances ; but proposed a more rational and Christian basis of negotiations. He wrote : I thank you sincerely for the invitation, and for the very kind terms in which it is expressed ; but I could not consent to assume the attitude proposed even for a single occasion. A position so unnatural and so inconsistent with the true intent of preaching, could result in nothing better than a misrepresentation of both myself and the gospel. I am at best but an uncouth and stammering messenger, and my only hope of success lies in directing attention from myself to my message and my Master. Could I justify myself in turning a sacred service into a personal exhibition, THE HOC KEY MAIL. ]6l which I cannot, I should only empty my preaching of all that would save it from your contempt. Should the congregation participate as spectators of such a performance, they would disqualify themselves to judge of its merits. If we are fitted to cooperate in Christian work, there must be a way to determine the fact without committing sacrilege. No doubt some preliminary acquaintance is necessary. I enclose cre- dentials as to my character, my training and fitness for the ministry, and the quality of such 'prentice work as I have thus far attempted, with the names of some well-known persons, to whom I am permitted to refer. Should you so desire, I will visit Rockby, for the purpose of mutual inquiry and consultation, with a view to an engagement, but uot to preach, unless such an engagement shall first have been consummated. Very respectfully, DUDLEY AUSTIN. The doctor read this letter as he walked wearily home on a sultry July evening. It was like a breath from the north, and he laughed aloud with gratifica- tion. "Good!" said he. "I relish that. That sounds something like it." He met Squire Browning, another committeeman. "See here, squire!" said he. u Here is a letter from our theologian ; " and he read it to him. 162 THE EOCKAXOCK STAGE. "Sound sense!" said the squire. "Tell him to come right along." Deacon Wauberton was driving home his cow. " Wait a minute, deacon," said the doctor; and he read the letter to him. " First rate ! " said the deacon. " Tiptop ! Just my idea." Lucy sat on the veranda as the doctor came up with the letter in his hand. " Lucy," said he, " we 've found him ! " "How fortunate!" she s^aid, smiling brightly at him, "and what an exhilarating effect he has upon you ! Would you mind telling me who he is ? " "A minister; a young minister; a minister with splendid stuff in him ; a minister after your own heart, Lu." " Really, sir, in the matter of young ministers, I are you quite sure you know my heart, Tom ? " " I know your views on one subject at least, and he entirely agrees with you. He will not preach as a candidate. He holds candidating, as you do, to be absurd, delusive, and sacrilegious." " Bravo ! Perhaps you are right about my heart, after all. Is his name a secret?" " No ; Dudley Austin." " Oh ! " "Oh, what?" THE ROC KEY MAIL. 163 " Nothing; ouly I can see that he might have rea- sons for not wishing to exhibit himself." " He has ; and they are reasons to which a good girl Avill tuke no exceptions." " Your remarks are irrelevant, sir. How about a good committeeman a manager of the regular Sun- day entertainments of this parish? Surely this is not a candidate after your heart, Tom?" " He is* Lu. I am henceforth a reformed showman. I am not going to run a ministerial circus any longer. I have been heartily sick and ashamed of it for months, and now I am done with it for good and all." "But what will the good people do without their little Sunday amusement?" " They will be just as glad as I am to see the last of it. And now where 's Helen ? " and he went away to find her. CHAPTER XIII. OUR OWN CORRESPONDENTS: r I "lI-IE doctor was right about the verdict of the J- parish. The infelicities of the candidatiug 33-8- tem had been generally felt and were endured only as supposed necessary evils. It was surprising to see how readily everybody acquiesced in the new plan for securing a pastor. A letter to that effect was immedi- ately written to Mr. Austin, by Dr. Ashley of course. It said : " We like your views ; we like your proposition ; we like your credentials ; and we think we shall like you. Come as soon as convenient, prepared to stay if it shall seem desirable." Mrs. Trausington took part in the correspondence. Her letter was addressed to Lucy, and was ostensibly in fulfillment of a promise made at the time of Lucy's departure from Chicago, but was really a covert attempt at interference with that young lady's destiny. My dear Miss Darling, I am so ashamed of myself for my long neglect after I had given you such a solemn promise. And to think that I have no excuse in the world except that I have been more frivolous and dissipated than ever ! Balls, parties, 164 our. OWN COERESPOXDEXTS. 165 drives, calls, bonnets, dresses oh, the pomps and vanities of this wicked world ! The major is a rebuke to us all ; so dignified, so noble-minded, so every- thing a man ought to be. I don't wonder you admire him so ; and if it were not for spoiling you, I would s:iy I don't wonder he adores you. You can't imagine how he has missed you ! He talks of you morning, noon, and night. He is getting very tired of hotel life. How much he would enjoy a home ! and how delightful he would make it! and how well, I never meddle with other people's affairs ; but if I could fix things as I want them and as I think they ought to be, I know what I would do, and so do you. Now, don't be vexed with me, for I do love you so much and want to see you happy. What a stupid place for you that Rockby is! Vi-ry nice for a few days of summer rest, but for a home for such a girl as you, why, it 's imprisonment, it 's exile, it 's being buried alive ! But we shall see you in Chicago before long, I know. I hope the church will like poor Austin. He 's so unattractive and peculiar. My husband raves about his fine points, but I never discovered what they were. 1 suppose that Eastern girl to whom he is engaged could enlighten me. There 's nobody so horrid but that some goosie will marry him. What a gossipy letter I am writing! I must stop 166 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. before I quite disgust you. Pray take your fill of rural delights while summer lasts, but make your plans for an early return and a long stay in the only city fit to live in. I know the major is going to urge it, for he told me so. Now don't punish my negligence by a like delay, but write at once. Miss Louise Whortle also found it in her heart to indite a letter to Lucy, lavishing upon it time, mental effort, dashes and marks of emphasis without stint. Its point of view differed considerably from that of Mrs. Transington. She wrote : My dear Lucy, I can't bring myself to call you Miss Darling it sounds so formal and as I was saying to the major to-day in a nice little talk we were having together you do seem so like a friend that I have known always Besides, I want to call you a darliny in another sense Pray excuse the pun. The major scolds and scolds me twenty times a day for punning, and I know it is a perfectly dreadful habit Why do you suppose I haven't written before? Just because there was positively nothing to write about I ought to have made you promise to write first for you must have so much that 's interesting out there in that lovely place The major has told me all about it, over and over and over again But here in this horrid OUR OWN CORRESPONDENTS. 167 city and this stupid old hotel nothing ever happens The major and I were talking about it to-day and we voted hotel life an awful bore 7s n't he nice, though ? So kind to me and everybody But, dear, dear me the silly talk of people ! It 's perfectly horrid! I don't see why a gentleman can't speak to a girl without setting^ a lot of gossip going I hope to goodness he hasn't heard of it Of course we shall never see you again but don't forget us Do write to me before long and tell me about all your picnics and huskings and apple parings and all the rest. I do so love to hear about country life. I often and often beg the major to tell me about it But, dear me this letter is nothing but major, major, from begin- ning to end Adieu. Lovingly yours, LOUISE. The threatened letter from the major came in due time. His pen was not mightier than his sword, but it was of good, honest steel ; and though awkwardly handled and liable to make havoc with the Queen's English, was nevertheless highly appreciated by his friends, particularly by Lucy. For the ftrst time in her life, however, she now felt no pleasure at the receipt of his letter. She shrank from it and dreaded to open it lest she should discover some confirmation of Mrs. Transington's impertinent suggestions. Con- cerning Louise she felt no uneasiness. " He will 168 THE EOCKANOCK STAHE. never take such a dose of insipidity as that," she said to herself; "but" she tore the envelope and read : My dear Girl, "Pity the sorrows of a poor old man," solitary and homesick, and compelled to solace himself with love letters and practical quotations. What a fool I was to let you go so* soon when I might have kept you as long as I liked ! I 've a good mind now to assert my authority over you and make you come straight back. What 's the use of being guard- ian to a nice girl unless you can get some good of her society? By the way, did you know -you were going to be twenty this month, and that in another year you would be free from the tyranny of the old despot that has governed you so long? Don't you crow yet, though. I 've made up my mind to rule you with a rod of iron for the next twelve months. So be ready for marching orders any minute. What sort of a summer resort would Rockby be for an aged single gentleman? Is there a decent hotel there? and a livery stable? and a barber that could scrape an old chap's chin without cutting his throat? and a sweet girl graduate who would cheer his lonely hours? Transiugton tells me that Tom's church has really struck up a bargain with the game-legged theologue. All right. Hope he '11 prove a trump. Trausington thinks so. Mrs. T. otherwise. Tell it not in Rockby, OUR OWN CORRESPONDENTS. 169 but I 'm inclined to bet with Mrs T. She 's the only woman in our set here that's got a thimbleful of sense. Now, my dear child, if I go to Rockby for a few weeks, you '11 come back with me ? Of course you will. You 've got to, if I say so, and I 'in going to say so. "Just the same as ever ! " said Lucy when she had read and re-read the letter, and weighed all its words with care. i; Just the same as ever! I'm his dear child, and his dear girl, and all that, just as I always have been, and not otherwise, whatever the woman with a thimbleful of sense may say about it." She spoke with unnecessary emphasis, looking hard at the open letter ; and, rising as she spoke, paced slowly up and down with her hands behind her and the letter still open in one of them. She watched the coming and going of the slippered feet as they stepped from leaf to leaf along the pretty ferns in the carpet pattern. She stopped at the window, looking out absently for a moment over the meadows, and knitting a faint sign of perplexity upon either brow. She retraced the fern-leaf walk, paused at the mirror, relaxed the in- cipient frown, adjusted a ribbon, and suddenly flinging off her reverie whose secret let him unfold who can guess a maiden's thoughts went gayly off in search of Helen. The major's letter produced a genuine sensation in 170 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. the Ashley household, and he received by return mail the following reply : YOM dear sensible Major, You deserve to be made a general for such a delightful proposition. Rockby as a summer resort? It is unrivaled. For aged single gentlemen it is Paradise. It has a first- class hotel the hotel Ashley, furnished with all the luxuries of the season, including sweet-girl graduates and undergraduates. There is a barber shop. Fee for refraining from cutting old chaps' throats, reasonable. There is a livery stable with an aged single horse, suitable for the aged single gentleman aforesaid. As an indication of the quality of the patronage accorded this hotel, we are proud to say that the clergyman, so irreverently alluded to by you as " game-legged," will be for the present a permanent guest, with rooms adjoining your own. We have not ascertained whether he is a trump, as we do not know the meaning of the term, but we will ask him. Yes, sir ; I know when I shall be twenty, and when I shall escape despotism. But what of that? Even now, girl that I am, I dare defy the despot to his face. Bring on your orders and your rod of iron as soon as you like, but be sure you don't forget to come with them yourself. You will find me the same docile and obedient ward as ever, never refusing to do whatever you command that is according to my own wishes. CUE OWN CORRESPONDENTS. 171 Will I return to Chicago with you ? Perhaps ; per- haps not. Come and see. A maiden must not be too ready with her Yes and No. * Now, dear, good tyrant, sit right down and tell us when you will be with us, and let it be soon, very soon. Helen is writing ; so I will leave her to tell the family news and give the family invitations. I am perfectly well and happy ; at least, I shall be when you come ! Two or three more letters passing through the Rockby mail about this time must complete our quo- tations for the present. The first is from Mr. Pack to Mr. MacAllan. Mr. Pack learned with dismay of the major's intended sojourn in Rockby ; for he foresaw in it a serious hindrance to their scheme, if not the actual frustration of it. The guardian and his ward would be constantly together, depriving the would-be suitor of both pretext and opportunity for attentions which might otherwise be offered. The young lady's legal protector would be suspicious of such attentions, were they attempted, and would take measures to prevent their repetition or to neutralize their effect. Then it was not unknown to Mr. Pack that since Miss Dar- ling's recent visit to Chicago, some regarded the major himself as a probable suitor, if not an accepted lover; a supposition to which the journey to Rockby lent additional color. On the whole, Mr. Pack regarded 172 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. the situation as very serious. But like a good lawyer he proceeded to prove the contrary and to convince his rusticating client that the advent of this burly sentinel and possible rival was not only favorable to their scheme but a profoundly contrived part of it. So, inwardly cursing the major, and wishing he might be overtaken by apoplexy or a railway collision, he sat down and wrote to his friend as follows: Dear Mack, You know, perhaps, that old Gib- son is coming out to Rockby for the summer ; but you don't know that it is brought about by the elder's man- agement, to further your suit. He saw long ago that it was absolutely indispensable that you should make the major's acquaintance under circumstances which would enable you to produce a favorable impression upon him, and he has been laying pipe for it for weeks. It was no easy thing to bring about ; but by little and little, securing the suggestion of a friend here, and the advice of a physician there, he has accomplished it. I need not tell you how important it is that you should take the utmost advantage of it. The elder says it all rests with you now, and that if you only play your cards well with the major, the game is yours. Don't fail to keep me posted as to the progress of affairs. You say things move slowly. Yes, big things always do, Mack ; and this is a big thing. The elder is delighted with the way it 's working, and he knows OUR OWN CORRESPONDENTS. 173 what 's what. He says he believes it 's all in answer to prayer. He 's awfully superstitious, but he can work as well as pray, as you '11 see more and more clearly. By the way, he calls for a small remittance only seventy-five dollars, just to cover expenses. Please remit as soon as possible. We must keep him in good humor. An order on Krauntz will answer every purpose. Oh, you 're a lucky dog, Mack ! Many a fellow I know would like your chance. Young Vandernack has just caught on to this thing, and you ought to have heard him. Did n't he rave, though ! Did n't he abuse me like a pirate ! But I don't care for that. Of course I shall never get any more business out of him or his friends ; but that is nothing so long as I can serve you. God bless you, dear old Mack ! Mrs. P. wishes to be kindly remembered to you. We 're all doing our best for you, and you 're going to win. You know what a faint heart -never did. Yours, V. L. P. Had Mr. MacAllan replied immediately, and accord- ing to the impulse of his feelings, it would not have been in the language of grateful appreciation. In the privacy of his own room he indulged sub voce in an exercise much after the style of his fictitious corapeti- 174 THE EOCKAXOCK STAGE. tor, 3'oung Vanclernack, as described by that gentle- man's inventor. He even poured out his wrath in a four-page letter to Pack, in which he invoked destruc- tion upon old Gibson, and perdition on- the hypocritical idiot who had been at such paius and expense to bring about the worst thing that could be imagined. But the letter was laid aside for a day, then rewritten in milder language, held for further consideration, and finally destroyed. He could not afford to quarrel with either Mr. Pack or the elder. Perhaps the latter was right ; wait and see. The major's coming could not now be prevented, and might prove advantageous. Meantime, things were happening which greatly en- couraged Mr. Mac Allan, as he shall explain in a letter dated some ten days later than Mr. Pack's. Dear Velucius, Your letter sorely tested my faith. At first I felt sure that the elder had made a serious if not a fatal blunder. Major Gibson was the last man whom I wanted to see in Rockby. But I tried to believe that you were right, as you generally are, and now I feel sure that -you were. I could not expect in the next few weeks to gain any recognized standing as a suitor, but my chances for a preliminary acquaintance will be improved rather than otherwise by the old gentleman's presence. He is here already, and I have not only met him socially, but he has been more than once in my office. We have smoked several OUR OWN CORRESPONDENTS. 175 cigars together, and are likely to have business rela- tions in connection with some land that he owns in this county. You will not think me vain, old friend, when I say that my social and commercial standing here is very flattering. I cannot conceal from myself the fact that people here, not excepting the very cream of society, are disposed to treat me with the highest consideration. I attend the leading church in the place, not because it is the leading church, though that is an advantage, but because it is attended by the A.'s, and therefore by L. D. I am even consulted on parochial business. For instance, they have just been getting a new minister. You would n't think my advice worth much on that subject, but they did. You 'd think they took me for a theological expert. Well, I was pretty glad of it, for, to tell the truth, I felt a little uneasy about that minister business. I know how a woman worships intellect and character, real or imaginary, and I was afraid some brilliant, young, clerical bachelor would come in with his col- lege airs and his fine rhetoric and cut me out before I had a chance to do anything for myself. But, providentially, I really think it was, they got hold of a man who is warranted to be harmless : first, because he is as unattractive personally as a gorilla ; and secondly, because, wonderful to relate, he is 176 THE ItOCKAXOCA' STAGE. engaged to be married! Wasn't thai luck? I tell you, I went in for him strong. And I 'in inclined to think my opinion turned the scale. At any rate, they have engaged him for a year, without so much as hearing him. He is to board at Dr. A.'s; that's luck again. Do you think I'll cultivate him for all he's worth? Do you think I shall have occasion to call on him frequently, and sometimes, possibly, when I know he is n't in ? I am getting some business here, and have actually made two or three quite respectable little commissions on real estate transfers. I enclose the order on Krauntz, as you request. The elder is a pretty expensive luxury ; but if I win my prize before he bankrupts me, I won't complain. Yours, MACK. Mr. Pack promptly replied : Dear Mack, What a lucky fellow you are ! I felt at first, I confess, a little as you did about send- ing old G. up there, and even expostulated with the elder about it. But it is plain enough now that he was right, as he generally is. Maybe he 's right about the prayer, too. Don't you call him an expensive lux- ury, my dear boy. He's the very opposite; a cheap necessity, so far as you and your plans are concerned. He and I both think you ought to have a horse OUR OWN CORRESPONDENTS. 177 and buggy ; nothing showy, or fast, or anything of that sort, but a good, respectable rig, you under- stand, that you keep, of course, for business purposes strictly, but which may possibly prove available for a short drive with a young lady now and then. Better attend to it at once. If you can't get what you want there, we will pick you up something suitable and send it out to you. As ever, V. L. P. P. S. Did you get a grumbling . letter from Krauntz? Probably you could n't read it if you did. But don't mind his growls, though it thunders and lightens in low Dutch all round you. Keep the peace with him. Let me manage him; you'll need him for some time yet. And he needs you, too. That 's where you 've got him. He and I are fixing up a nice little scheme for putting a cloud on the Ottway tract. Promises to be a big thing. We '11 give you a chance to take a hand in it before long. V. L. P. CHAPTER XIV. SPLENDID STUFF. MR. DUDLEY AUSTIN'S first public service in Rockby was a momentous occasion to both his congregation and himself. Although he had car- ried his point concerning candidacy, and was already their accepted pastor, or rather, as Deacon Wauber- ton more accurately expressed it, their "stated sup- ply," yet he was by no means to escape the embar- rassments of a first appearance. As to his hearers, many of whom had never before seen him, they met him with a curiosity even more eager than it would have been had his effort been purely experimental. All Rockby was moved. The church was thronged with an audience outrivaling the feast in the parable. The regular guests, with one consent, waived all excuses and came, while the highways and hedges yielded their full quota besides. Every pew was filled, first comfortably, then uncomfortably. The ushers tiptoed up and down, beckoning hesitant strangers, and bringing to bear upon the saints the sever- est tests of their compressibility and their virtue. The air grew heavy ; faces flushed with excitement and summer heat; fans rustled. Children gave pre- 178 SPLENDID STUFF. 179 monitory outcries 'of impatience. The sexton with his long hook pulled down the upper sashes of the windows, amid much gratuitous advice, pro and con, from neighboring worshipers. The choir, anthem books in hand, performed by duets, by trios, by quartets the usual prelude of whispers, giggles, and responsive glances. Mr MacAllan sat in the "Wauberton pew, Maggie blushing on his right, the deacon smiling on his left, and the vast expanse of shiny black beard serenely falling over his breast. The Ashleys and their guests were full of the excitement of the occasion. The major felt a little responsibility in having introduced the preacher to his flock. The doctor felt more, in having conducted the negotiations. Helen sympa- thized with both of them, and with the preacher him- self, whom they all began to like in spite of his uncotithness. Lucy, as the " fair referee," could not regard her- self as having promoted the arrangement, but was thankful that she had not hindered it. Her first prejudice aguinst Mr. Austin seemed to her upon reflection utterly unreasonable, and her thoughtless expression of it unjust and inexcusable. She blamed herself severely for it, and resolved to put it out of her mind, and to make up an unbiased opinion of him, based upon actual acquaintance. She even felt almost 180 THE ItOCKANOCK STAGE. obliged to like him, as an atonement for her former injustice. The task did not prove so difficult as she had imagined. She had a high regard for intellectual force, and for the ingenuous and the genuine in char- acter ; and these she found under the diffidence and awkwardness of Mr. Austin. His very uncouthness appealed to her sympathy, just as his lameness did, and moved her to greater generosity. Her gracious and respectful kindness toward him surprised Helen and filled him with grateful pleasure. He did not wonder that such a woman should win an old major's heart, as Mrs. Transington and his own eyes had in- formed him was the case. He hoped that after they were married they might always be his parishioners. Lucy, on her part, inwardly congratulated " that Eastern girl " with whom Mrs. Transington had con- nected him, and resolved to champion him for her sake, partly because she was an Eastern girl, partly because she had the courage to like an ungainly fellow with good stuff in him, and partly because Mrs. Transington had called her by implication a " goosie" therefor. "How would the poor girl feel," thought Lucy, "if she were here to-day to see her hero pass through this fiery ordeal ? I will try to see him through her eyes, and be as indulgent toward his faults and as appreciative of his merits as if I were Miss Goosie herself." SPLENDID STUFF. 181 And now the ordeal is at hand. As the notes of the organ are sounded, all eyes are turned toward the narrow door at the right of the pulpit, through which, week by week during the past twelve mouths, they have been wont to see the reverend martyrs and glad- iators enter the arena. He is neither martyr nor glad- iator who enters now, though he is pale enough for the one and massive enough for the other. " Big, awk- ward, homely ! " The major repeats the epithets of his letter of recommendation, and concludes that he cannot retract one of them. The lameness is palpable enough, but not conspicuous barely sufficient to aggravate other disabilities. Evidently the man him- self is not at all embarrassed by it. lie does not seem to be even conscious of it. In truth, Mr. Dudley Austin is at this moment more free from painful self- consciousness than his audience would believe possible in the circumstances. He has dreaded the occasion, and wondered much how he was ever going to get through with it. He knows all his own disadvantages, and could add many a disparaging epithe't to the major's list. But now that his hour is come he is full of courage and even of exultation. He stands on the threshold of the work which has been his dream and hope through ten years of weary study. " At last ! " he says to himself. " This is God's altar at which I am to serve. This is my people, for whose souls I 182 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. aru to watch and work, and give account. To these men and women I am to be priest, teacher, counselor, leader, shepherd, example. Here I am to deal with the high things of God, and with the sacred and endur- ing things of the human soul. Who is fit for such a service ? Whose hands are clean enough ? Whose heart is holy enough ? " The thought is overpowering. For one moment the pale face is hidden ; then it is lifted toward the con- gregation, flushed, eager, and confident. Those who have come prepared to offer sympathy to a bashful beginner in pulpit oratory find no demand for their services. Those who suppose themselves to be spec- tators of an introductory effort a homiletical trial trip soon discover their mistake. With the first word of the brief invocation, the ministry of Dudley Austin has begun in earnest. There is diffidence in- deed, and sincere humility ; but there is also a moral fervor which makes itself felt in every earnest soul before him. The prayers are not fluent ; the hymns are poorly read ; the voice is husky and inflexible, and does not readily adjust itself to the acoustic conditions present. But all is somehow forceful and impressive. And now for the sermon. Shall it be the choicest of the seminary stock ; the one that the professor of homiletics revised so carefully, and which the class pronounced a masterpiece ? No ; it is one that neither SPLENDID STUFF. 183 class nor professor ever heard of ; a discourse wrought out on the ground under the influence of his present surroundings, and with reference to his pres- ent flock. Shall it, then, have especial reference to this occasion ? a discussion of the Nature of the Pas- toral Office, or the Constitution of the Church, or the Present Religious Condition of Rockby, closing with some modest personal allusions and salutations? No ; it has not a hint of anything personal or special in it. Its scope is as broad as that of religion itself. " The Father himself loveth you." That is the text. The plan of the sermon is as simple as the text is familiar. It is little more than the unfolding and illumination of the two words Father and Love; yet it seems as if the light of all truth is focused upon them. The sermon is in manuscript, and the ink on its closing pages is hardly dry. But it has come from a glowing heart, and the fires in which its thoughts were forged are burning yet. At first the reading is slow, hesitant, monotonous. Soon it grows more fluent. The voice gains clearness and flexibility, and in certain passages takes on that supreme quality sometimes termed the magnetic. The homely face kindles ; the gestures, if not graceful, are free and effective ; the man is, in his o\vu unstudied way, really eloquent. Lucy, listening to the sermon not for herself but for that anonymous " Eastern girl" in whose place she is 184 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. trying to put herself, is profoundly moved by it, and in her vicarious capacity feels proud of Miss Goosie's hero. " I wish she were here to enjoy his success," she thinks, " and to praise him for it, and oh, de:ir me ! to tell him of some of those mannerisms which will be sure to break the force of his grand thoughts upon unsympathetic hearers ! " She is herself so intensely, though vicariously, sympathetic that all her soul seerns to be looking out of her face as the speaker, in a chance uplifting of the eyes, catches a sudden glimpse of it amid the sea of faces before him. He does not trust himself to glance that way again, but the image of that eager face is a fresh inspiration to him as he goes on with his sermon. " How do you like him?" was the question asked by a score of suppressed voices at once, the moment the service was over ; and the answers ran : " Oh, well enough." "Don't know yet." "Tonguy, isn't he?" "Guess he'll do." " Seems to be orthodox." " Not much polish." " Good, plain sense." " Don't look as I expected." " Never '11 set the world afire." " Good sermon for old Pollax." SPLENDID STUFF. 185 "Yes, and for you and me too." Yet some eyes were gleaming, some hands pressed one another in silence as people met. Half a dozen persons from various parts of the house made their way through the crowded aisles to the pulpit, to speak with the new preacher. There \\us Mr. Solomon Drabsider, the editor of The Rockby Interview, who wished to secure the manuscript for publication, along with a biographical sketch of the "'reverend gentleman," its author. There was the pompous and patronizing Squire Mycopp, who knew the Transiugtons, and had been specially requested to show Mr. Austin some civility. There were two or three official members of the church who would ex- change salutations with the new pastor, or speak some word of genuine gratification. And there was Mr. Charles Erasmus Argyle, com- monly called, according to the Western fashion of denominating schoolmasters, Professor Argyle, the principal of the Onouo Literary and Classical Institute. lie was a prim little man, perhaps fifty-five years old, with a cheery-looking face, embellished with a thin tuft of gray whiskers on either cheek. His eyes were small, his nostrils thin, and his lips thinner yet. His black suit gave more evidence of care than of recent manufacture. His hands were encased in black kids. In the left he carried a white hat with a broad band of 186 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. crape around it. The right he extended stiffly to the young preacher, just descending the pulpit stairs. " Mr. Austin, I suppose?" "Yes, sir." " Professor Argyle." "Ah! very happy ^to meet you, professor. Hope you 're well, sir." "Much as usual, thank you. Allow me, Mr. Aus- tin, a friendly suggestion or two, which I think will be of service to you." " Why, certainly ; it would be a great favor, I assure you." " Well, it would at least be Scriptural. The apos- tle says, ' Let him that is taught in the word commu- nicate unto him that teacheth in all good things.' " " Indeed, sir. I shall be more happy to be taught than to teach, and it will seem more natural to me. I have been under tutors and professors so long that I really feel lost without them." The young man's readiness to be criticised was dis- appointing to the professor. He would have enjoyed the operation better with a more sensitive patient ; still he had hopes of making it interesting. "My young friend," said he in a whisper, seeing the editor approaching, "there are certain infelicities of manner " " I am painfully aware of them, Professor Argyle." SPLENDID STUFF. 187 " Ah ! " said the professor, further disconcerted by this frauk admission, which seemed to make a specification of the " infelicities" in question un- necessary. " Oh, yes ! " resumed his intended victim with ani- mation, "I know them all by heart;" and he began to tell them off upon his fingers. " Too closely con- fined to my notes ; making - pump-handle gestures ; shrugging my shoulders ; nodding to my manuscript ; gesticulating with my eyebrows, and soon. There 's a long list of them. How r the fellows used to drub me for them ! It 's like old times to hear you mention them." "I haven't mentioned them," said the baffled pro- fessor. Nor did he succeed in doing so, but was fain to cover his defeat by introducing Mr. Drabsider, the editor, who now presented himself. " I desire to congratulate you, reverend sir," said ^ the grandiloquent editor, *' upon your splendid effort. Such profound thought, such lucid argument, such felicitous diction, such ah ! here is our distinguished fellow citizen, Squire Mycopp. Good morning, squire ! Allow lue the pleasure of presenting you to our eloquent young pastor, Mr. Austin. Thus law and gospel, preaching and practice, are brought together through the medium of the press." Squire Mycopp ignored the editor and his thread- 188 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. bare wit, and faced Mr. Austin as he would a witness whom he wished to overawe in court. " I have heard the Transingtons speak of you," he said. u They are very dear friends,'* replied the preacher, " and it will be a pleasure to enjoy the acquaintance of one who knows them." " Don't be too sure of that," said the squire. " I am not at all of your way of thinking, theologically, Mr. Austin, though I will do you the justice to admit that the sermon you have just preached would pass with us fairly well. So far, so good. I rejoice in every sign of growing liberality among orthodox sects. We shall get you all sooner or later." " I assure you, Mr. Mycopp," began the preacher. "Yes, yes; I know what you are going to say," rejoined the lawyer. " Of course you wanted to draw it mild at first. You 've got all the old dogmas in stock, I don't doubt that. Y\m could n't hold your position here without them." " Squire Mycopp " But the lawyer cut the matter short. " Let us call the case closed for the present. My family are wait- ing for me in the vestibule. Good day, sir ; " and he bowed himself away. Then the official members came up and recited the usual complimentary formulas. Oue " liked the ser- SPLENDID STUFF. 189 mon very much" ; another " enjoyed it very much" ; and another was " very much interested." By the time the preacher had escaped from the interviewers, his exhilaration had been thoroughly taken out of him and a depression of corresponding intensity had seized upon him. CHAPTER XV. SATIRE AND SINCERITY. WHERE was now the romance of pastoral life which had filled Dudley Austin with such en- thusiasm? Where was the glow of feeling under which the sermon had been written? and the fervor and unction with which it had been delivered? Where was the responsive feeling which he had imagined to be enkindled in the hearts of the congregation ? One hearer had been impressed only by the speaker's- awkwardness ; another had totally misunderstood his meaning ; another was moved to offer the most nau- seating flattery ; others still had repeated stereotyped compliments which might or might not be sincere. "As to the rest of the congregation," he said to himself, "some may be found, no doubt, like each of these ; some are in moods still more discouraging, and the rest are utterly indifferent." He pocketed the now detested sermon, picked up his hat and cane, and limped wearily homeward. Hd he mistaken his calling? He feared so, at least so far as this people were concerned. How could he face them again that evening, and the next Sunday, and the next, and the next, for a whole year? He was thank- 190 SATIRE AND SINCERITY. 191 ful that it was for no more than a year. A.nd pechaps some merciful sore throat or brain fever might shorten the agony for him ! Or the people might tire of him and contrive a way to be rid of him before the time expired ! The thought was a relief. Even that would be better than a year on the rack ! His course led him past the livery stable, which, like most other important institutions in the village, fronted upon the principal street. In its door stood the stage driver, just arrived from church, where he had been one of the new minister's most attentive and judicial critics. He had not joined the after-service interviewers, who had waited to express their senti- ments to the preacher in person ; but he had freely exchanged opinions with a number of his fellow auditors, and hud overheard a good deal of floating conversation on the subject as the congregation filed p:ist him at the stable door. The last of them had gone before the preacher made his appearance; and the driver had taken off his striped alpaca coat and hung it up among the whips and bridles, preparatory to giviii'jf old Grey and Carrots their midday feed. Whinnies and pawing hoofs from distant stalls urged him to be quick about it, but he thrust his hands into his pnrkets mid leaned thoughtfully against the door- post. He was not so picturesque a figure in his Sun- day suit as in the rusty workaday clothes in which THE UOCKAXOCK STAGE. we huve heretofore seen him. The black trousers, bought ready made at the village store, and proving their newness by the creases running up and down the legs, had been made for the average man, aud were, for the present wearer, of inadequate length but of superfluous breadth. Below them appeared the lean, bony ankles and the clumsy but well-blacked shoes. Above them, though strongly inclined to avoid them, was the ill-fitting buff vest, through which the limp bosom bulged uncomfortably ; while collar and cravat struggled for precedence in the effort to reach the wearer's ears. No thought or consciousness of these things was in Lezer's mind, however, as he stood in the stable door. He was watching the limping figure that was approaching him. It did not require great power of penetration to discover the preacher's dejection even by his gait. On his face, though the brown straw hat hid the upper portion of it, despondency was written in every line. He became aware, through unmistakable tokens, of the proximity of the stable, and, as he passed it, caught a glimpse of the figure in the door, but limped on without so much as turning his head. "Wall, elder," said a drawling voice, "how do yer like it sfurz ye 've gone?" " Ah, Mr. Martin ! " said the minister, stopping and SATIRE AND SINCERITY. 193 looking up. "I did n't know it was you. What was your question ? " " I ast ye how ye liked yer new job." " I've hardly tried it long enough to tell." "I s'pose so. You a'n't like the blacksmith's 'prentice they tell about." "What did he do?" "Didn't ye never hear that story? Why, he worked half a day and went home a-cryiug, an' sed he was sorry he ever larnt the trade." Mr. Austin laughed, and looked keenly into Lezer's eyes, to see whether he was quizzing him. " I don't think I am like him," he replied. " I am not ready to say that, anyway." " No, I knowed ye wa'n't. I never see but one minister 'at wuz, an' that wnz my Uncle Merodach. He was dreffle smart, too, Uncle Rodach wuz, and spent, laud knows how many years, a-studying, an' then got skairt out the very fust day." " Scared at what, pray ? " " I dunno ; his own shadder, like enough. I never heerd jest how 'twuz, whether the sarmon did n't suit him, br the people did n't lissen good, or somebody found some fault with somefhiu' another ; but he jest preached one Sunday an' swore he 'd never go inter no pulpit ag'in." "Swore!" 194 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. "Oh, I don't mean he used any actual swear words ; but he vowed he 'd quit, an' he did jest trotted one heat, 's yer may say, an' jumped the track slick an' clean." " I don't see how he could do it ! " " Course you don't. You never 'd do it. You a'n't that kind o' stuff. I knowed t' other day, when you rid up with me on the stage, 'at ther' wa'n't no Rodach about you ; sez I ter myself, ' That man 's got sand in him,' sez I." " That 's another name for friction, I suppose? " " It 's another name for grit ! " Mr. Austin, for some reason, felt uncomfortable under this compliment, which, intentionally or unin- tentionally, conveyed a rebuke. " I noticed you at church this morning, Mr. Martin," he said, by way of turning the conversation. " Did ye, though? S'pose ye knowed me by a kind o' hossy smell. I did n't ketch yer eye no time. But p'r'aps ye 're like these here schoolmasters ; knowin' everytlun' in the room without lookiu' up. Wall, ye hed enough ter do without watchin' me, an' you did it, too. Oh, but did n't you jest sling it to 'em ! " "To whom?" " Why, to the mizzuble sinnerz, ye know, an' all the rest on 'em." " What ! were there really sinners there? " SATIRE AND SINCERITY. 195 " Sinnerz ! Come, what 's the use o' jokin'? Did n't yer say you see me there ? Siunerz ! I should say so ; an' publickius, an' scribes, an Pharisees, an' hypper- crits, an' heathen, an' Hivites, an' Hittites, an' Ammy- rites, an' Jebbyzites, an' Perryzites, as the Scripture sez. Oh, yes, if siunerz is what you 're lookin' for, elder, you 've jest struck it rich. Ther' 's old Square Mycopp, now ; why, I '11 give ye five years to convert him. A Dimmycratic lawyer! think o' that, elder! Then there 's old Sol Drabsider ; he 's another reggular bonanza for ye. An' there 's plenty more o' the same sort. Oh, don't you worry, elder, you won't run short o' siunerz yit awhile." " I was n't anxious on that point," said the minister. " Wall, I '111 lad on 't," responded Lezer in a tone of relief, " for some is. Of course what a preacher wants is plenty o' sinnerz, an' plenty o' hard work, an' discurigemints, an' crookid sticks to vex his righteous soul from day to day, like old Lot's was in Sodom- Gouiorrer, as the Scriptur' sez; an' some on 'em, if they don't meet up with it right off, they can't stan' it a minit, ye know. But land ! you a'u't none of them sort." " I should hope not," laughed Mr. Austin. " Speshually when ther' a'n't nothin' to worry about, with sech lots of good tough work layiu' round loose, an' sinuerz plenty." 196 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. " Certainly ; I ought to be greatly encouraged, and so I am. Good clay, Mr. Martin." "Good day, elder. Luck ter ye." The stage driver watched the retreating figure as he had watched the approaching one, and marked the difference be- tween them. " His face a'n't so long by a foot ! " he said to himself, "an* he don't limp nigh so bad, neither. Should n't wonder but what my sermon done him more good 'n his done me, mebbe." And it was so. The preacher acknowledged to himself the wholesome tonic of Lexer's discourse. How much was meant by it he could not decide. He did not doubt that he had betrayed his despondency. That the shrewd fellow should have guessed its cause, and extemporized this remedy, was almost too much to believe. But, whether by design or by chance, the young man's thoughts had been turned in precisely the right direction to lead him out of the Slough of Despond in which his critics had left him. What reason had he for discouragement? He was not prop- erly appreciated. Some praised him unwisely, and some openly dispraised him. What of it? Whose fault was it? If it was his, he could correct it. If it was theirs, let them do the fretting too. What right had he to demand appreciation? Who was appre- ciated ? Certainly not his Master ; not the apostles ; not the great workers, teachers, reformers. Should SATIEE AND SINCERITY. 197 then a nobody like him demand more than they? What had he sought the ministry for? For the enjoy- ment of it? What had he expected? comfort, luxury, flowery beds of ease? Had he not prepared himself for an arduous life? Had he not resolved to " endure hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ " ? Should he flinch at the first onset? He was ashamed of his weakness and cowardice. Lexer's alleged uncle had scarcely been more pusillanimous. " I have been a genuine Rodach," he said to himself as he entered the house. I'M. -.sing from the glare of the midday sun into the cool and dimly lighted hall, he paused a moment at the foot of the stairway. From the regions above came a rustling sound and a softly murmured strain of the closing hymn at church. Looking up he saw Lucy, all in white, floating down to him like an angel in a cloud. He greeted her politely and moved aside to let her pass. But she came close to him, with the color deepening in her face, and the look in her eyes which he had caught a glimpse of in the midst of his sermon. ' Mr. Austin," she said, ' your sermon was on purpose for me ! " The avowal covered him with confusion. He out- blushed her in an instant. " Was it?" he asked. "Yes, on purpose! I tried to listen for for others, but you spoke straight to me. How could you know just what I needed ? " 198 THE KOCKANOCK STAGE. He looked at her in amazement. Needed? This beautiful creature, who seemed so far above him, who made him feel so coarse and ill-bred, and whom he had imagined to be looking down upon him with a sense of infinite superiority? "Why, Miss Darling!" he stammered, "I have never thought of you as needing anything, much less anything that I could help you find." " I need everything. You have helped me to dis- cover that." "Will you let me tell you where to find everything ? " The unspoken answer was in her eyes, when a heavy step ascended the porch, and Major Gibson opened the door, turning, as he did so, to throw away the half- consumed cigar that he had been enjoying in the garden arbor. Mr. Austin felt the situation to be an awkward one, and one with which, on the face of it, a guardian was liable to be displeased. But Lucy showed not the slightest sign of embarrassment. She gave her guardian a smile of greeting as he entered, her eyes still glistening with a feeling of which she seemed in nowise ashamed. "I am telling Mr. Austin," she said, brushing a flake of gray ashes from the major's coat, " how much good his sermon has done me." "That's right, my dear, that's right," said the major uneasily. SATIRE AND SI \rKHI I Y. 199 "What is right?" she risked wistfully. " Oh, you need n't think I want you to be a heathen because I am." "Is heathenism any worse for me than for you? " she said, laying her two hands on his arm and search- ing his eyes with her own. " Well, perhaps not, my child, but yes, I think it is, rather worse." "Why is it?" " Come, come, I 'm not defending heathenism." " Let us renounce it together ! " Mr. Austin waited to hear no more of this dialogue, but excused himself and went to his room, while Lucy and the major walked away arm in arm. " She has a hard task," he said to himself, " but it is not too soon to begin it. A heathen lover is more tractable than a heathen husband." As to her heath- enism, he no more believed in it than the major did. It was as inconceivable to him as the impiety of a saint. He seated himself by the window, took up his even- ing sermon, and attempted to turn his mind to the new topic ; but the events and experiences of the morning proved too absorbing, and he was soon lost in reverie. A knock at the door aroused him. "Come!" he shouted, and then, remembering that he was no longer 200 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. in. college, arose to greet his visitor more civilly. It was the doctor, who had come ostensibly to bring a notice that had been sent in, but really to exchange a friendly word with the young minister, and. see how it fared with him since the morning's effort. " Pardon my rudeness, doctor," said Mr. Austin, " the force of student habit is so strong upon me yet, that I am hardly in an accountable condition. That ' Come ' just said itself." " Reflex action," remarked the doctor sententiously. " Perfectly scientific and sensible. Don't stand on ceremony with me. And now, my dear sir, bow do you find yourself after that good sermon you have given us?" " Half an hour ago," said Mr. Austin, " I felt as if I could never preach again. Now I feel as if I could preach a thousand years." " Exaltation reaction recuperation ! Scientific again, and natural. Apropos of the same subject, let us go down to dinner." CHAPTER XVI. PORTIA AND BASSANIO. AT early twilight, on a quiet summer evening, Miss ** Lucy Darling and Mr. Allan MacAllan sat in the parlor of the Ashley mansion, in pleasant conver- sation. Her charms of person and of costume, which would have been striking in any light, were enhanced l>y the soft, rich glow reflected from the western sky. Mr. MacAllan sat before her in easy self-possession, not too near, not too far away, refined and cour- teous, free alike from boldness and from diffidence, taking neither less nor more than his proper share of the conversation, and while saying in an offhand way many bright and entertaining things, seemed to be interested only in what was said by her. He had called, ostensibly, to pay his respects to the new minister. Dr. and Mrs. Ashley happening to be absent at the time, Lucy was hostess pro tempore ; and as a patient was expected for whom the doctor had left a message, she answered the bell in person. She was not annoyed, as she once would have been, at meeting the man for whom she conceived at first sight so intense a dislike. Her prejudice against him, like that against Mr. Austin, had been conquered by 201 202 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. sheer good sense. She could give no reason for it, except an unfavorable impression, and that, she told herself, was no reason at all. She was no believer in woman's intuitions, or anybody's else. She held such things to be nonsense, and she would never govern herself by the law of nonsense. " Here is a gentle- man," she said to herself, " about whom I know noth- ing. Other people regard him as worthy of respect. It would be preposterous for me to assume the con- trary, and I will not. He is a part of the little world where I am to live. I must often meet him. I will form my opinion of him and govern my conduct toward him like a sensible woman, and not like a superstitious idiot." She soon found occasion to practice this excellent philosophy. They had had several casual meetings at the Waubertons' and elsewhere, and were already on terms of incipient acquaintance. When, therefore, as hostess pro tempore, she greeted him at the door, her manner was gracious and cordial, although she secretly rejoiced to hear him ask for Mr. Austin. As she was admitting him, a servant, who had also heard the bell, appeared at the other end of the hall, and was sent to announce the call to Mr. Austin, while Lucy showed the visitor to the parlor. She would then have retired, but Mr. MacAllan, casually alluding to the heat of the day, remarked that it had rORTIA A.\D HASSAXIO. 203 proved too much for Miss Maggie, who was suffering from a violent headache. Lucy was distressed to hear it. and advanced' a step or two into the room to ruake an inquiry concerning her friend's condition. At this moment the jasmine odors coming through the open windows drew an exclamation of delight from Mr. Mac-Allan, which moved the unwary girl to call his attention to the graceful festooning of the vines on the veranda He admired them greatly, and was re- minded by them of the old homestead in Maryland, about which, of course, she offered some courteous inquiry, and he some further explanation. Thus, with an art of which he was the consummate master, he wove around her the meshes of a conversa- tion which detained her in the room, drew her into the seat opposite him, and filled the interval before the minister's appearance with friendly chat. For instance : " You really find Rockby quite en- durable, Miss Darling?" he asked. " Endurable?" she repeated with animation, running the syllables up the scale almost an octave. " Indeed, it has made no demand upon my endurance. I find it very delightful : do not you?" "On many accounts, yes," replied Mr. MacAllan ; " though of course it has attractions for you that it has not for me. The difference between being at home, among one's dearest friends, and being a solitary 204 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. stranger, is a considerable difference, Miss Darling." The faintest shade of pain seemed to cross his face, followed instantly by a smile, as if he felt it a breach of courtesy to obtrude his homesickness upon her. She caught both expressions, and scored them both to his credit. " I know precisely what that difference is," she said more seriously, recalling certain forlorn moments in her school life, and pitying anybody who might now be suffering similar distress. There was a barely perceptible touch of sympathy in her voice, for which Mr. MacAllan was grateful, though not be- cause he felt the need of it. " Wonder if there is more where that came from?" he said to himself. "I 'if see." " Since the death of my parents," he began medita- tively, as if he had not noticed her last remark, " and especially since my mother's death, home has been only a beautiful memory." He paused, looking dreamily into the hat that he held in his two hands, and there fell a single moment of silence which Lucy was the first to break. " I have been more fortunate," she said with an evident increase of the sympathetic in her tone. " I have lost my parents, but not my home." She really felt sorry for the man who had lost both, and let her eyes rest a moment upon him, as he sat gazing into his white Leghorn, apparently lost in tender recollections. PORTIA A\D BASSAXIO. 205 " He has a good face," she mentally affirmed, "and he loved his mother." She scored these two items in his favor, and another faintest possible trace of the sympathetic came unconsciously into her face. He, while posing for the moment in this becoming attitude, instead of tenderly recalling his mother, a stepmother of intolerable temper, whom he had heartily detested, was inwardly saying, " That was a good card, my boy, and well played ; save it for another time." Arousing himself from his pretended reverie, he looked up suddenly, detected the above-mentioned faintest possible trace of the sympathetic, and inter- preted it according to the promptings of his own vanity. " Pardon me, Miss Darling," he said with a smile of self-depreciation. u I am ashamed of myself. You must think me a stupid mope. I don't know what possessed me to fall into such a sentimental mood." The inference was that he had been encouraged to it by a sympathetic auditor, which was flattering to the auditor, and of course creditable to his susceptible nature. " I hope you will like Rockby better," she remarked. " Oh, I like it already ! " he answered warmly, " and I have the best reasons for doing so. No stranger 206 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. was ever more generously treated, or found more or better friends." " Western people are reputed to be more free and cordial with strangers than Eastern people are." " If Rockby is a specimen, they certainly deserve their reputation. Their treatment of me has been more than friendly, it has been kindness itself." Somehow this grateful appreciation of Rockby was so expressed as to justify the kindness referred to. It was evidently to Rockby's credit that it had opened its arms to this pilgrim and stranger. Rockby would, of course, treat no man so except upon intuition of his superior merit. Ergo, he had superior merit ; for how could it have been recognized if it had not existed ? Ergo, what Rockby had done collectively, would be becoming in any given individual, say in his present entertainer. She therefore added another credit mark to his score, upon authority of other people's good opinion. "Still," she said, " we cannot help wishing for some things that the West cannot afford us." We! Did she already connect him with herself in this community of experiences? " I suppose you are thinking of such luxuries as ocean surf and the breath of the New England hills," he said. "Yes, partly of them." " They would certainly be delicious on some of these PORTIA AXD BASSAXIO. 207 sultry days. But when I get to longing for them, I utter a magic word that robs them of their fascination in an instant." " Do teach it to me." "Fog!" " Fog? Are you opposed to fog?" u It is opposed to me. I am a fugitive from fog. Fog is my enemy, my Nemesis. Fogs and I settled it between us long ago that we could not live together." " How unfortunate ! I count fogs among the choicest luxuries of life. Even these poor, thin, little river fogs, that now and then drift about the valley and the bluffs for an hour or two in the morning, are my especial delight." " Ah, yes, indeed, I can enjoy that sort of fog, too. It is the dense, persistent, all day and all night sea fogs that I dread. Nice, esthetic fogs, that content themselves with being picturesque, have my heartiest approbation. One of the most delightful memories of my life is that of a misty morning on Loch Katrine." " Loch Katrine ! " exclaimed Lucy eagerly. " Now, indeed, you make Rock by prosaic." " You have visited Scotland then? " " I spent a summer there, and it seems like a beau- tiful dream." " May I ask in what year you were there?" " Three years ago." 208 THE KOCKANOCK STAGE. " That is singular ; it was the very year of my visit, and confirms the impression, which has haunted me ever since that Sunday afternoon at the Tremont House, that I had somewhere seen you before. It must have been in Scotland." Mr. MacAllan's memory or some other faculty was at fault respecting the date ; but the imaginary coincidence served his present purpose quite as well as a real one could have done. Lucy was not espe- cially interested to know that he had been in Scotland at a particular time, but it was not disagreeable to her to believe that her face should be remembered by a passing stranger at such a distance of time and place. At any rate, a new topic of common interest was presented, and the conversation ran more fluently than ever, as they spoke of scenes which both had visited, not only in Scotland, but in other parts of Europe. During the last four years of her school life Lucy had spent her summer vacations abroad, in company with a favorite teacher. Mr. MacAllan had enjoyed a single flying trip of three months' duration. But he knew how to make the utmost of his small capital, and, better still, how to make an enthusiast like Miss Darling talk of her own more extensive touring. She was usually very reticent upon the subject, having a hearty detestation of the " when-I-was-abroad " re- tailers of foreign reminiscences. But this comparison PORTIA AND BASSANIO. 209 of notes with another tourist who had himself intro- duced the subject, and who showed so keen an interest in her recollections and impressions, was quite another thing. The meagerness of his recol- lections and impressions was effectually concealed by the copiousness of hers. He rarely volunteered a fact or an idea, but had a convenient memory for everything referred to by her. It was only when she propounded some direct question to whose answer she had given him no clew that he got into serious difficulty. " Did you enjoy religious worship on the Conti- nent?" she asked suddenly, when they were speaking of the cathedrals. "Very much indeed," he answered at a venture; " the architectural surroundings, the solemnity of the ritual, the suggestions of sublimity and reverence, the " " I could n't bear it," she interrupted. " You surprise me," responded Mr. MacAllan with entire truthfulness. "I should think, now, that you were the very person to enjoy it." " Perhaps I ought to be ashamed of not doing so," said Lucy, " but I always seemed to have surprised a lot of people at their private devotions. I could not join in it or make public worship of it at all." " Oh, of course, it is not a kind of service in which 210 THE KOCKANOCK STAGE. we could exactly feel at home," said Mr. MacAllan. " I can't say that I ever felt entirely at home in any foreign church." " I have," said Lucy in her most positive tone. " And pray where was that? " asked Mr. MacAllau. " In a little Dissenting chapel in London." "Indeed!" " Yes, in a mere barn of a place, where plain working people were praying and singing hymns and telling what Christian faith had done for them." " Don't you find the worship at our own church very delightful?" he asked, thinking questions safer than answers upon the present subject. His way of saying "our own church" implied that he regarded himself as entirely identified with it. " Here in Rockby ? " she asked. "Yes." ' ' Not particularly ; at least I have not often enjoyed "it ; but I think I shall now that that the candidating is over," she said, slightly coloring. "Is it proper to ask your opinion of the new pastor? " " It would be highly improper for me to give it at this moment," she answered significantly, as the sound of a heavy and uneven tread was heard upon the stairs. In a moment more Mr. Austin, consider- PORTIA AND RASSANIO. 211 ably flushed and out of breath, entered the room. Lucy rose to meet him with a smile which Mr. .Mac Allan thought somewhat too cordial, and intro- duced the t\vo gentlemen to each other. " I urn ashamed to have kept you waiting so long," lit 1 said, addressing Lucy rather than the caller. " It cannot have been long, sir," replied Mr. Mac Allan blandly. " I have but just arrived. I am sure it cannot be two minutes since I came." He flattered himself that that little speech would be duly appreciated by the fair enchantress who had annihi- lated for him the remaining quarter of an hour. lu truth, Mr. MacAllan had not expected the immediate appearance of the minister, having special us for anticipating considerable delay, though not quite SQ protracted a one as had occurred. The two gentlemen happened to occupy rooms whose windows were within sight of each other, and whose internal arrangements were such that should a weary man, en inl who have no hesitation in making the nomination. I am ready to make it myself." " Would the views of the nominee be in order? " "I think the nominating committee now have the floor. Miss Darling, I am going to tell you some plain truth, which, I presume, you will not like to hear." THE NEW CHOIR. 219 " I am not afraid of plain truth, I hope." " Well, then," he said as seriously as if he were chiding her for a grave offense, " you have been en- dowed with a remarkably pure, sweet soprano voice, peculiarly adapted to sacred music." "O Mr. Austin!" cried Lucy, putting her two hands to her crimsoning face, " how can you say such a preposterous thing to me ! " " I knew you would n't like it," he replied. " I told you so to begin with." " No, sir ; I do not like flattery," she said angrily. " Mi>s Darling," he replied gently, li flattery is the resort of triflers ; I am in earnest. Flattery is an appeal to vanity ; I am appealing to your conscience." She let her hands drop upon her lap, but did not look at him. He went on as if he were stating an item of indifferent fact. " You have the finest soprano voice in Rockby. Everybody knows that. Everybody says it. There is no sort of use in deny- ing it." She seemed about to do so, but did not speak. There was that in his manner that carried conviction. She felt the uselessness of denial. She even began to believe the fact as something irrefutable, and to contemplate it with a sort of impersonal interest, as if it referred to somebody else. She turned her eyes to him once more as he went on : 220 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. " What then? Is it any credit to you to have the best voice in Rockby ? " " Not the least in the world," she said, " even allowing that it is true." " It is true," he said deliberately, " and so is your answer. The best voice in Rockby is simply a gift, or, more correctly, a trust, committed to you by Another, and to be used with reference to His wishes." He had her most earnest attention now, and waited a moment for her to speak ; but she said nothing, and he went on : " You have had unusual advantages for musical culture ; better than those enjoyed by any other person in Rockby. Am I correct?" " Perhaps so. I don't know. Probably I have. Yes, I think I have." " Does that involve a further trust and respon- sibility?" " I suppose it does." " Have you lately formed any new purposes as to religious duty ? " 44 Yes, sir." " Did you make an exception concerning this par- ticular obligation?" "What obligation, Mr. Austin?" " To use your voice in the service ^ f your new Master." THE NEW CHOIR. 221 "Oh, no, sir; no! I am sure you do not think I did." u No, I know you did not. Now let us put this and that together. The King's service requires the best voice and the best musical training in Rockby. That voice and training are found with one of the King's daughters, who has been earnestly wishing that she might lay some gift at his feet. What do you think she will do?" She will first carefully sift your parable to see if it does not cover a fallacy. You put the case from your own point of view; let me put it from mine. You say I have had superior advantages for musical instruction. So I have, and therefore superior oppor- tunities to know how inferior my own talents are. I was a pupil of the best vocal teacher in America ; but he had other pupils who were so incomparably above me that I could not have sung a note in their presence. He never pretended that I had exceptional talent. He would not have dreamed of recommending me for a position in a church quartet or for any other professional effort. I took my music as a means of cultivating my taste and enabling me the better to appreciate and enjoy the performances of those who could do what I very well knew I could not. And then there were people not over-critical, there were occasions when professional talent was not 222 THE KOCKANOCK STAGE. available, offering a sphere of usefulness for the mediocre musician. I found that my friends, espe- cially the major, enjoyed my singing. It came to me cue day as a sudden revelation that I could, in that way, contribute to the pleasure of those who love me ; and that was really my strongest motive in pur- suing my musical education. To take any public position is foreign to all my plans and my tastes. I can hardly bring my mind to think of it. It seems like claiming abilities which I know I do not possess." " No one will put that construction upon it, I am sure," said Mr. Austin. " I have not asserted that you had phenomenal powers, but only that they were the best in Rockby, and amply sufficient for the occa- sion. You have cultivated your voice that you might please your friends. Here is an opportunity to please a Friend who, I am sure you will admit, is dearer to you. than even Major Gibson." Mr. Austin rose. " Now," said he, " I am willing to leave the decision to you." She rose also, and stood a moment folding and un- folding her fan. " I have decided," she said quietly. " You will sing then? " " Yes." " And begin next Sabbath? " " Yes." " I knew you would." There was no triumph in his THE NEW CHOIR. 223 tone, but deep gratification, which flushed his cheeks and temples, and gleamed in his eyes. Lucy searched his face for some sign of the more ignoble feeling, but it was not there. " It is very magnanimous in you not to exult over my discom- fiture," she said, giving him her hand in parting. " You are not discomfited," he answered, pressing the soft hand more fervently than he was aware. " You meant all the time to do just what you thought to be right in the matter. Did n't I say so from the outset?" He limped away to report to the Music Committee, and marshal the rest of his choir. As he mused upon the interview just ended, his gratification at Miss Darling's spirit increased more and more. " The girl has the making of a saint in her," he said to himself. " I am glad she is going to marry a rich man. She is one who will make good use of that trust also." Lucy stood where he left her, rubbing the hand he had so cruelly squeezed, and dreading the task to which she had committed herself. "I cannot enjoy the sermons any more," she thought, " or any other part of the Sabbath worship ; but if I can help to make the service impressive, that is better than enjoy- ing it." In the following week Mr. Allan MacAllan wrote to his friend Pack as follows : 224 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. Dear V. L., Old things are passed away, and all things are become new ! I told you we had a new minister. Now we have a new choir. And who do you suppose is the chorister and tenor singer? Your humble servant. He accepted the position with great (apparent) reluctance, but is already overwhelmed with praises and congratulations. And who do you think is soprano ; to stand at my side every Sunday ; to join me in duets ; to sit in the next chair to me in the choir gallery ; to spend the rehearsal hour with me every week, and without doubt to be commonly escorted to and from rehearsals by me? Why, the charming L. D. ! The bass and contralto are a young married couple, who, of course, cling together on all occasions, leav- ing the remainder of the quartet to do the same if so disposed, as I think they may be. Did I once tell you that I almost thought I had fallen in love with Miss D. ? Well, I am certain of it now ; and what is more, I am reasonably certain that she is going to fall in love with me. I don't say that I have made much of an impression yet, but she treats me very handsomely, and we are getting acquainted pretty fast. Now, another thing. I don't know but it may be policy for me to join the church. Miss D. is not a member, but will be before long, I hear, and is just now as devout aa a little nun. Moreover, most of the THE XE\V ciioi a. 225 meii that I am brought into business and social rela- tions with are church members, and, as I have told you, I am daily consulted on parish matters. I am inclined to think it would pay me to be a little pious, too. What do you think? Ask the elder what he thinks. And had I better confess recent conversion, and join on confession of faith, as they call it, or would you bring a letter of dismission from some Eastern church? I suppose the elder could fix me ouj with something in proper form ; say from Blank Pres- byh;riau Church in some imaginary town iu Maryland. Talk it up with him. MACK. Mr. Pack's reply was prompt and characteristic : Dear Mack, The choir business is a big card for you. Nothing could be better It's no great sur- prise to me, though, but just what I expected. The I'ldrr has been figuring on that for some time, though you didn't suspect it. He's just filled Rockby with praises of your singing, and it was through one of his sly little hints, conveyed, no matter how, to a certain pillar there, that you came to be invited to take this position. I did n't take much stock in it at first. " What 's the use? " says I. " You '11 see," says he ; and so I do. Oh, he 's got a head on him, that blessed elder ! 1 'in sorry to hear that you 're in love already. You 226 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. could act more calmly and judiciously if you were not. A man in love is apt to be over-eager and anxious can't trust Providence, you know wants to bring things to an issue at once. However, if you are done for already, we must make the best of it. But be careful. Don't go too fast. A single impru- dent step or word may spoil everything. Don't, on any account, give her or the major, or any other living soul in Rockby, reason to suspect that you are in love with her ; though, if by any means short of this you can make her love you, all right. As to the church membership dodge, the elder says not to try it. It 's a mighty hard thing to play well. Besides, it would n't help you a bit, he says. Sup- pose the girl isn't so religious as you imagiue ; then she 'd rather you would n't be better than she is don't you see? On the other hand, suppose she is intensely religious ; then she 'd naturally feel a special interest in the unconverted. There 's no character more fascinating to a Christian woman, the elder says, than a moral, serious-minded, inquiring unbeliever. She gets to thinking about him, and pitying him, and praying for him, and before she knows it she 's in love with him. No mistake about it. You play the inter- esting skeptic, Mack ; that 's the r61e for you the man that listens respectfully to all the minister says, and thinks about it, and studies over it, and wishes he THE NEW CHOIR. 227 could see it in that light, and sometimes almost thinks he does, etc., etc. That 's the most taking thing there is" out. Then, by and by, you talk with her about it, and let on that she helps you more than anybody else, more even than the minister ; and get her to lend you some of her religious books, and write out some texts for you, and make her promise to pray for you. Why, it 's just perfectly irresistible, my boy ! I know that from experience. And at last when just the right time comes, if you can only make the good girl believe that she could save you, and that you 're lost forever without her, you 've got her, sure ! I can tell you one thing, though ; the old major is n't exactly what you 'd call hopefully pious. You don't want to waste any bogus Christianity before him. Now, farewell, and care well, good Bassanio, and don't try to unlock your treasure box till you get the key, and you will win your Portia and her fortune, and delight the heart of Your fond ANTONIO. Lucy's singing was a revelation to the people of Rock by ; not so much on account of its artistic excellence, though it was superior in that respect, but because of an indefinable something in it that moved the hearts of the congregation. The charm of her voice, like the beauty of her face, was not in its tech- 228 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. nical perfection, but in the spiritual qualities that pervaded it. Mr. MacAllau's was notably lacking in those qualities, but possessed others of recognized value. It was a genuine tenor, which is something of a rarity in any community, and was clear, sweet, true, under excellent control, and used with skill and taste. People listened to it with pleasure, and ad- mired Mr. MacAllan for its excellence. When Lucy sang they were scarcely conscious of a voice or a singer, but felt the power of some holy feeling joy, peace, adoration, aspiration. He received many com- pliments : " You were in excellent Voice this morning, Mr. MacAllan;" or, "Your solo was a master- piece;" or, "You covered yourself with glory." She was seldom complimented except by ill-bred peo- ple; but here and there a head was bowed as she sang ; here and there an eye grew moist. If any one spoke to her of her singing, it was commonly in grate- fulness, rather than in admiration : " It comforted me so much ; " " It came to me like a benediction ; " "It was both a sermon and a prayer." Professor Argyle, on his usual search for defects, begged leave to call her attention to a slight iuaccurac}* or two in her pro- nunciation, and Lucy thanked him so sweetly for the criticism that he resolved to find some fault with her every week. Of course on so important a matter as the church THE NEW CHOIR. 229 choir, the stage driver was certain to have views, and to express them in his own peculiar way. He had frequent opportunity to give the benefit of them to the new tenor, as the latter now came almost daily to the stable where the " good, sensible rig," which he had purchased for business and other purposes, was kept. " Tell ye what 't is, kunnle," said Lezer, " that 'ere tribble 's jest the thrillinist, movinist, soul-inthusinist music I ever heered in my born days." " Admirable voice," responded Mr. MacAllan. "Hain't it, though? Don't it go right through an' through yer soul, kunnle?" " I enjoy it very much." " Enjoy it ! I sh'd think you did. You jest looked las' Sunday zif ye wanted ter turn right round an' hug her." " You must have a pretty strong imagination, my friend. In reality I was chiefly occupied in following my own part." '' I s'pose so. It 's a putty pertickler part, that 'ere tenor is, too ; speshually where you lead off all alone by yerself there at the very fust beginniu' o' the piece. I use ter sing tenor, 'fore I hed the bruukitticks so bad." " I was a little hoarse myself yesterday," said Mr. MacAllan, trying to get a compliment from the stage driver. 230 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. "I noticed yer wuz," said Lezer frankly, "but I sorter laid that ter yer feelin's." " Did I sing it with feeling? " " Yaasj.yer seemed ter be under awful conviction o' sin." " Conviction of sin ! " " Yaas ; a-holleriu' out, over V over 'n' over ag'in, for God ter hev mercy on ye." "Man alive! what are you talking about? We were singing one of Baumbach's quartets, and those are the words in the book, that 's all ! " "Guess I know that, kunnle, I've sung Bumble's quartets ever sence afore you wuz born. It don't make no odds who writ the tune, if a feller only feels the words as you did them." " Who says I did feel them?" said Mr. MacAllan, climbing into his buggy. " You can no more infer from a choir's singing, a certain sentiment that it is their own, than you can infer that a horse is mine because I drive it." Lezer feigned the utmost astonishment. "What!" said he, handing Mr. MacAllan the reins, "you didn't mean it? an' ain't no sinner? an' don't want no mercy? Wall, kuuule, you 're enough to deceive the very elect, you be." "There's no deceit about it," retorted the pseudo- publican. " We sing what is in the book. It is pre- THE NEW CHOIIi, 231 sumed to be appropriate in a general way ; but we 're not responsible for the sentiment." " Then whudder yer sing it fer? " "For the congregation. They are supposed to comprise all the publicans and sinners, you know." " Wall, that beats my time." " What's the matter now?" " To think o' the way you stood there an' bawled an' hollered for mercy, when ye did n't mean a word on 't ! " "Well, what of it?" "Kunnle, I begin to lose my faith in everything; you '11 make a iuferdel of me yit, I know ye will." "Come, come, this is nothing but some of your fun ! I don't pretend to be pious, but I never joke about serious things, and I advise you not to." "Kunnle," said Lezer solemnly, "them's mostly prayers you sing, ain't they?" " Yes." " Prob'ly the minister don't mean his prayers no more'n you do yourn." "Oh, yes, that's a different thing; that's a very different thing. He means his prayers, every word of them, no doubt of it." "Prob'ly you've got a special license tor use vain reppytishins in yourn, an' he hain't. I heerd him mention t' other Sunday about hyppycrits and sich, 232 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. that draw nigh with the lips whilst ther hearts are fur from Him, but I did n't s'pose he wuz alludin' ter the choir." "It wouldn't apply to the whole choir, anyway. I 'm a trifle heathenish myself, but I 'm pretty near neighbor to some genuine sincerity," said Mr. Mac- Allan over his shoulder as he drove away. " You bet ! " shouted Lezer after him. CHAFFER XVIII. THE OTTWAY TRACT. A FEW days after the church-choir discussion, Mr. MacAllan had occasion to seek the stage driver's assistance in a matter of considerable delicacy. " Can you fix me up a double rig, Lezer ? " he asked. "What kind of a rig?" "Oh, something plain and substantial." " Whatcher want of it? " "An artist friend of mine is coming out to spend two or three days with me, sketching and hunting." " When ? " " He '11 be out on the morning train to-morrow, and we will get away in the afternoon, so as to be on the ground early on the twentieth." " What ground?" " I thought we 'd go out to the Ottway Tract." " Whudder ye wanter go there fer? There a'n't no chickins there." " They say there are." "Who says?" 44 Nat Jennings." 233 234 THE ROCKAXOCK "Well, he oughter know. Why don't ye use yer own rig?" "I'll use it as far as it goes. Give me another horse to put with mine, and a two-seat wagon." " Whudder ye want two seats fer? " "Nat is going with us and he'll have his dog and gun along. We shall have our guns, and our provi- sions, and a shelter tent ; and probably my friend will bring his camera." "His which?" " Camera." "Some kind o' dog?" " No, no ! a thing to take photographs with." "Oh, yis sort o' box, sot up on three legs." "That's the idea. I want him to get some views of the rocks around Indian Bluff." "Awful pooty rocks them be. What's his name?" "Who, my artist friend? Seems to me you're rather overworking the interrogation point this morn- ing." Mr. MacAllan colored as he spoke, not with resentment, but with embarrassment. Never having seen his artist friend, and having read the name rather carelessly in the letter from Pack which conveyed his only information on the subject, it had not fixed itself in his memory. "Oh, ye needn't tell me, if it's a secret, nor gil mad about it neither," said Lezer. THE OTTWAY TRACT. 235 " I 'm not mad," replied MacAllan, forcing a laugh ; " the name is Lewis ; there 's no secret about it." He gave the name at venture, reflecting that one was as good as another for Lezer, and anything better than hesitation. " Twentieth 's Sunday, a'n't it?" " Yes, that's what I don't like about it. But Lewis is n't so particular as I am in such matters. Of course I would n't hunt on Sunday. I shall go out with them Saturday night and set them on the ground, come back Sunday .in time for church and go out again Monday morning." "Glad yer so pious, kuunle." " How about the team ? " " Guess I ken fix ye out." " Good enough then." The artist friend arrived in due time by the Rock- anock stage. He was as brown as a sailor, rather rakish looking, and did not impress the unprejudiced observer as a highly aesthetic nature. He bore a light gun and the reputed camera. The latter was carefully * wrapped, but the " legs" to which Lezer had alluded closely resembled a surveyor's tripod. Noting this point, and putting it with the fact that Nat Jennings was surveyor by profession, the stage driver regarded the artist friend with some suspicion, and made the conversation rather too interesting for him as they jogged along toward Rockby. 236 THE EOCKAXOCK STAGE. " Goin' ter try the prairie chickins, eh? " "Yes, thought, I'd go up and celebrate the glori- ous twentieth with my old friend Mac Allan. Know him?" " Kep' his hoss quite a spell back." " S'pose he owns a good one." " Nothin' extry." "Just like him. He never went in much for show, Mack never did." *' You 've knowd him a good while, probably ? " " Bless you, yes ! we were boys together." " Down in Illinois?" " Down in Illinois." " "What may I call your name? " " Thompson." Lezer was compelled to lean over the side of the coach and examine the brake, while he indulged in a grin which he did not care to waste upon his passen- ger. He was now thoroughly convinced that some fraud was on foot. The meeting of the two old friends was in Lezer's presence, and, considering that it was their first interview, was a clever piece of acting. Both were well drilled in their parts; and the "My dear fellow ! " and the " Mack, old boy ! " the con- vulsive hand-shakings, and the impulsive slap on the shoulder were capitally done. So was the introduction to Mr. Jennings, whom Mr. MacAllan presented to THE OTTWAY TRACT. 2o7 his artist friend as a Nimrod of renown, who had consented to lead them to the haunt of the prairie chicken and the picturesque. As Thompson and Jennings were fellow craftsmen and acquaintances, and had planned this expedition together, these little formalities were rather briefly disposed of. Toward evening the double rig, with its proper load, quietly left the livery stable and turned west- ward toward the Ottway Tract. A young farmer was in the stable at the time, splicing a broken whiplash, while he waited for his horses to finish their oats. He apparently took no notice of the double rig. " Whudder ye think now, Josh?" said Lezer to him as the sportsmen drove away. "Help me hitch up," answered Josh; "I'll keep an eye on that crowd." Josh Martin was Lezer's cousin and lived on the Ottway Tract. Lezer had acquainted him with the history of the present expedition, the discrepancies in names and statements, the suspicious circumstances and appearances, and his own surmises. " Oh, they 're goin' htmtin' ! " he said ; " not a doubt of it, Josh ! " " They 're goin' ter hunt section stakes, that's what they 're goin' ter hunt," replied the cousin. The Ottway Tract comprised several thousand acres of land, the title to which had been obscured through the carelessness or ignorance of early owners. About 233 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. one half of it was now unoccupied. The rest was held in small quantities by a score or more settlers, some of whom, like Josh Martin, had bought their farms in good faith, with no knowledge of the sins of their predecessors, while others had secured what they knew to be defective titles at very low figures. All were now aware of the insecurity of their claims ; but as they believed that any counter-claims must be still less valid, they were resolved to maintain their own rights as best they could. Mr. Pack's hint of an intention to put a cloud on this tract was no jest. He had been studying the Ottway titles for years, and, as Mr. Krauntz's attorney, had bought the interests, such as they were, of a number of claimants. But he very well knew the sensitiveness of the present occupants on the subject of titles, and the sort of confederation, defensive aud offensive, in which they were bound together. When it became necessary, therefore, to locate the boundaries of the tract, preparatory to some decisive proceedings, he acted with the greatest caution. The services of a trustworthy, that is unscrupulous, sur- veyor were secured, who knew Nat Jennings, equally unscrupulous. After a number of impracticable prop- ositions had been canvassed, the hunting and sketch- ing idea was hit upon aud adopted by acclamation. THE OTTWAY TRACT. 239 The initial movement had reference only to the unoccupied portion of the tract. That must first be secured ; afterward the work of dispossessing actual occupants could be pursued at leisure. The invading party went on its way confident yet wary. It did not proceed directly to the tract, but, making a long detour through byways and logging roads, and now and then a pathless thicket, emerged at last into a remote part of the tract, out of sight and hearing of the nearest settler. Had Mr. Jack Thompson been really an artist, instead of a mercenary scamp of a civil engineer, he might have found the scene worthy of his professional attention. At their feet flowed a pretty stream the main tributary of the Onouo fringed with verdure and overhung with elms and willows. On one side of it stretched a broad prairie meadow, waving with many-colored grasses, yellow, olive, brown, green, and gray. On the other side rose the bluffs, first gently sloping, with park-like groves of oak and thick greensward sprinkled with white blossoms ; then steep, broken declivities, with here and there perpendicular or overhanging cliffs, looking like walls of ancient masonry. A transverse ravine, cutting through slope and rocks, opened a vista among the lindens and poplars and furnished a channel for a babbling brook. 240 THE ROCKAXOCK STAGE. But the beauty of the scene was quite lost upon the present party, and such a thing as a sketch or a photograph was not thought of. The horses were un- harnessed and tethered to convenient trees. The tent was pitched in the ravine. The camera was unmasked and set upon its tripod an undeniable theodolite. " Now, my artist friend," said Nat, pulling out a large chart of the tract and unfolding it upon the grass between himself and Thompson, "suppose we see if we can find that corner stake and run a line or two before dark." "Can I be of any service?" asked Mr. Mac-Allan. " Maybe you might take your gun and the dog and shoot us a medder lark for supper." "Meadow lark ! " "Certainly. The chicken law a'n't off till twelve o'clock to-night, so you can't shoot a chicken unless it 's strictly in self-defense. Of course if a chicken attacks you, you have a right to defend yourself ;" and Jennings winked knowingly at the artist friend, as if the old jest were his own and* freshly coined. "Where do you think I should be safest?" asked Mac Allan with his gun in his hand, while the Irish setter whined and leaped around him most frantically. " Well, up to the top o' the bluff there 's some blueb'ry bushes. That 's a great place for chickens. Be careful and not go in there." THE OTTWAY TRACT. 241 " Certainly." " However," continued Nat, " you won't be likely to meet up with any chickens to-night. They won't be out till to-morrow. If you see any good-sized kind of gray-brown birds, that fly off with a whiz and a whir, tlu-y 're inedder larks. Blaze away at 'em." Mr. MacAllan slowly climbed the bluff, the eager setter unwillingly obeying his sharp "To heel! to heel ! " Once upon the summit he turned to survey the scene, which drew from him an exclamation of surprise and pleasure. "Faith!" said he, "there's a bit of landscape worth coveting ! I wish somebody was here to enjoy it too. I must describe it to her." It occurred to him, however, that he would not like to give Miss Darling an account of the present expe- dition or have her know anything about it. The more he thought of her the more distasteful the business became to him. The petty pretenses and falsehoods to which he had been driven seemed almost criminal when looked at through her eyes. " Yet," said he in self-defense, " it is all a part of a scheme undertaken on her account. When once I have won her, she shall make me as strict a Puritan as herself. For the present I must be a publican and a sinner for her s:ikc." Oil the edge of the bluff where he stood at a point 242 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. overlooking the camp below, the bare soft sand in a hollow of the rock bore fresh footprints. Two men had evidently stood there not long before. One wore heavy-soled boots thickly set with iron nails, the other was barefoot. "Footprints on the sands of time," said Mr. MacAllan ; though he failed to experience the cheering effect ascribed to such vestiges by Mr. Longfellow, and looked about rather nervously for their authors. He frankly admitted that the presence of strangers would be at this moment exceedingly objectionable. " No shipwrecked brother in mine, if you please," he said, peering in this direction and in that. But there was no sign of human life anywhere ; and calling his dog he pursued his search for meadow larks. Soon he came to blueberry bushes loaded with delicious fruit, which he stripped off in handfuls as he walked.* The dog ranged back and forth before him, covering every yard of the ground, his nose now in the grass and now in the air. At length, as the keen- scented creature was passing a low thicket, he sud- denly stopped, crouching a little, with one foot lifted, nose and tail extended, and the hair rising along the rigid spine. " Steady, Don ! steady ! " said the excited hunter. He had never seen a live prairie chicken, but he had seen something of dogs and knew these signs well. THE OTTWAY TRACT. 243 " Steady, old boy ! " he repeated, walking hurriedly forward with cocked gun, and needing the word of caution far more than Don did. Suddenly whir whir whir whir from the grass close to Don's nose, and from the bushes on the right and on the left, and almost from under the very feet of the hunter himself, sprang bird after bird till the air seemed full of them, great, clumsy creatures, dashing away in terror in every direction. It \v:ts not the law that restrained Mr. Allan MacAllan, and held him spellbound in the presence of his prey. It was that paralysis which so often seizes the hunter under the excitements and surprises of his sport, ami which no game is more likely to produce than a harmless covey of prairie chickens. Mr. MacAllan had not really expected them. He had associated prairie chickens with prairies with wheat and corn and thick grass, and not with blueberries and hilltops. But by the time the last of the covey was out of reach, he awoke to the fact that he had a gun in his hand. " What an idiot I " he exclaimed. Don seemed to think so, too, and could only with the greatest ditliculty be restrained from returning to his master. " Don't leave me yet, Don," said the crestfallen sportsman. "Give me one more chance, there's a good dog, and I will show you what I can do." 244 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. Don at last consented, and led the way, rather dis- piritedly, in the direction which the grouse had taken. It was hard work finding the scattered birds, and the shooting was at long range, and not always successful. But just at dark hunter and dog came wearily into camp with five plump prairie chickens. " What do you call them?" asked MacAllan as he threw them down. "Them?" said Nat, surveying them critically, on his way 'to the fire with the coffee pot in his hand. " Them 's medder larks, ain't they, Jack? " "I should say so, under the circumstances," replied Mr. Thompson, " though they 're a little large of their age, maybe." " How many do we want for supper? " " Better cook 'em all. We 're pretty middling hun- gry, and undressed larks might bring us bad luck. Dress 'em quick, and burn up every last feather." A bed of glowing coals was prepared ; the birds were stripped of their skin, their breasts and legs were carefully broiled, and the rest was thrown into the fire. ""We might have an evening call," remarked Nat. " The neighbors about here are pretty sociable, and would, like as not, want to know where we found such fine, great larks." Nat was an adept at camp cookery, and what with his skill and the appetites of his companions th". THE OTTWAY TRACT. 245 supper seemed the most sumptuous feast of their lives. What remained, a generous remnant, was saved for the morrow's lunch. " Did you fiud the stakes ? " asked MacAllan as they lounged around the camp fire, made doubly ac- ceptable by the mosquitoes and the coolness of the August night. "We did that," replied Nat; "got our northwest corner safe and sure, and run the lines to the half- section stakes both ways. To-morrow morning we will start in at daylight, and work on around with our compasses and hatchets as near the clearing as we dare to go. By Monday night we '11 have everything traced out and set down in black and white." "Then what?" " Shoot a chicken or two to save appearances, and go home the way we came." "And what next?" tk Haul a load of lumber out here some dark night, build a shanty before daylight, set a young couple to housekeeping in it, and open the campaign." The campaign was fully discussed by the three men till the fire burned low, and they retired to the tent. It was mentally continued by Mr. MacAllan long after his companions were soundly sleeping by his side. To tell the truth, there were many things in the situa- tion which did not incline him to drowsiness. He 246 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. fancied that lie beard a twig snap behind the tent, followed by a succession of half-subdued noises, as if some one were retreating stealthily toward the bluff. An owl hooted overhead. A wolf howled in the dis- tance. Some small animal trotted by, calling forth a sleepy growl from Don. Jennings snored loudly, and Thompson muttered in his sleep. The sense of the disreputableness of the expedition returned upon him with redoubled force. He reflected upon the events of the last three months, and the life of scheming and plotting in which he had allowed himself to be in- volved. He determined to break away from it at the earliest possible moment, and try to be such a man as Lucy Darling could respect. Yet how could he escape the toils of his confeder- ates? To break with them now would ruin everything. Perhaps he might have won the girl's heart by honora- ble means, had he begun in a straightforward way, perhaps not. At any rate, there was no retreat now. So he came back to his former resolution, to secure his prize at any cost, making the end justify the means. This accomplished, he would forego all fraud and duplicity, and be thenceforth anything she wished. "One thing I will do," said he to himself, "the * very first chance I get. I will ask the dear girl to pray for me ; not for the selfish reason suggested by Pack, but because I really feel the need of it. I THE OTTWAY TRACT. 247 would give something to knotv she had prayed for me to-night." "\Vith this reflection, ami believing that he had brought himself to a very pious frame of mind, he fell asleep. When he awoke the sun was shining in his face through the tent door ; but he found himself shivering with cold and aching from the hardness of his bed. The romance of camp life, which had so often dazzled his imagination, seemed a cruel delusion. He com- placently assured himself that he was too refined, too highly civilized, to enjoy the life of a savage. His companions had gone, probably two hours before, in what direction he could only conjecture. Don had followed his master. The surveyors had evidently taken a hurried meal and left Mr. MacAllan to look out for himself. He went to the stream, bathed his hands and face, and with the help of a pocket comb and glass completed a very unsatisfactory toilet, followed by an equally unsatisfactory breakfast. It was the twentieth day of August, alluded to by the deceitful artist friend as " the glorious twen- tieth." To-day a lark was a lark, and a grouse a grouse, and shooting was not limited to acts of self- defense. But Mr. MacAllan had other duties to perform. It was Sunday, and he dared not absent himself from the choir. Harnessing his team, he returned to Rockby in season to make his very best 248 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. toilet and present himself at the proper hour in the choir gallery. There, standing by Lucy's side, he sang with fervent iteration, all the way up to high A and back again, that he was glad when they said unto him, " Let us go into the house of the Lord." ' CHAPTER XIX. THE CHARMS OF SOLITUDE. AN early drive ou Monday morning brought Mr. -*-.-*- MacAllan again to the camp which, as he had expected, he found temporarily deserted. Securing tin 1 team, as he had seen the surveyors do on Saturday, he shouldered his gun and sauntered away in a direc- tion in which he had once or twice imagined he heard voices. After walking perhaps a quarter of a mile he came to a small, grassy lake where, to his surprise, he discovered a fine flock of mallard ducks. They had evidently nested there, for there were half a dozen old birds, and a score or more of young ones, two thirds grown. A shot froni Mr. MacAllan's gun sent consternation and death ainong them. A second followed them in their flight. With the help of the wind, a long pole, and a little wading he secured four birds, while two or three others lodged in the grass beyond hia reach. Life began to look brighter to Mr. MacAllan. He patted the bulging pockets of his hunting coat, and felt somewhat less anxious to find his companions. In the distance he heard a loud, clear whistle. " Ha, 249 250 THE ROCKAXOCK STAGE. ha, Mr. Bob White ! " said he, "I will give you a call, too, if you please." A little skulking brought him in sight of the plump fellow standing on a stump, as straight and pompous as a drum major. A moment later the black crest rolled on the grass, while the mother bird and her half- grown brood flew into the thicket. Mr. Mac Allan had expected, when he discharged his gun, to hear responsive shots from Jennings and Thompson, to direct him to them ; but no such re- spouse came. For a time the solitude did not annoy him. He felt himself a mighty hunter, free as the birds. Let the surveyors go their own way ; he would go his till they chose to return. He had in his mind a very definite idea of the direction and distance of the camp, and could, as he thought, go to it whenever he was so disposed. At last he was so disposed. He had bagged another quail, a partridge, a fox-squirrel, and a gray rabbit. His game pockets became oppressively full. " Let me see," said he, " the camp is right over there, and not half a mile off, on a bee line." He made the half mile over ground which seemed unfamiliar. The camp was not there. He must have gone farther away than he was aware. He walked another half mile. Still no camp ! In the distance he saw the tops of tall trees through which rocks were THE C/y.i/.M/'V OF SOLITUDE. 251 visible ; that was certainly the place. But when lie reached it, no camp was there. He began to fear that he was lost. After two hours more of fruitless wan- dering he was certain of it. The sun had disappeared, hidden by clouds that grew thicker and thicker, and threatened rain. He had no means of judging of the points of the compass, but felt unmistakable signs of hunger and fatigue. With great effort he climbed a high tree on the edge of the bluff, but came down no wiser for his pains. lie bfgan to feel serious alarm. He had read many accounts of similar experiences, followed by days of bewildered wanderings, and ending in starvation or delirium. He remembered that lost men commonly walked around and around in dreadful circles, as if they were sucked into the currents of a sort of sylvan maelstrom, from which they could not escape; and wondered if such a fate awaited him. He imagined himself perishing in the woods; the surveyors missing him, looking for him, and giving him up for lost; a search party organized to find him and, after many days, discovering his dead body ; the paragraphs in the papers ; the comments of the public ; the funeral services ; the remarks of Mr. Austin ; the subdued singing of the choir, with a strange voice for the tenor. How would Lucy feel about it? Would she miss him? Would she shed a tear to his memory? 252 THE KOCKANOCK Would she own to herself that she had some fond regard for him? It would be a satisfaction to believe that he had touched her heart, even by his death, though it would do him little good then. What would Pack say? What would Krauntz do? Foreclose his mortgage ? Bring his claims openly against the estate? Make their schemes and bargains public? This last consideration came to his benumbed faculties like a thrashing to a freezing man. " I will never submit to such a fate as that!" he exclaimed desperately. " There is a way out of these woods, and out of these woods I must and will go ! " Fixing his eye upon a distant tree he walked to it, selected another and went to that, and so on from tree to tree, preserving the same general direction with the greatest caution, but unable to conjecture what that direction was. He had proceeded in this way for more than an hour, and had followed his uudeviating course to the top of another of the high and precipitous bluffs with which the region abounded, when, to his unutterable relief, he saw below him a stretch of open country with roads and houses and cultivated fields. The nearest dwelling was a small, new log house, perhaps one fourth of a mile from where he stood. On the side next him was a porch formed by the continuation of the roof. Vines were climbing its rude posts, and THE CHARMS OF SOLITUDE. 253 in the door he could see a woman sitting with a child in her anus. He thought he had never looked upon a scene so beautiful. So vividly did it impress itself upon his excited mind that every minute feature of it the cobble-work chimney, the thin, blue smoke issuing from it, the milk pans on the wood pile, the chickens, the clothes line with its unintentionally patriotic display of red, white, and blue, the kitchen garden, the stumps among the grass seemed to be instantaneously photographed upon his brain, never to be effaced. A quarter of a mile through swamps and thickets was a \\t-ai v distance to a man in his present state of exhaustion ; and it was nearly half an hour before the woman with the baby in her arms, .lifting her face from the forehead of the sleeping child, saw approach- ing her a man who looked like a dying bandit. She sprang to her feet in undisguised alarm ; but seeing in the haggard face more occasion for pity than for fear, she remained standing and waited for him to speak. Mr. MacAllan had life enough in him to explain his predicament to her, and even to lie a little about it, and to ask her for a morsel of food and the nearest way to Rockby. She did not invite him in, but set before him on the porch an ample white loaf with an abundance of 254 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. delicious butter and sweet, rich milk, all of which seemed like angels' food to her guest. As his strength and spirits revived he ventured upon some conversa- tion, and with so much tact and deference that she responded without hesitation, tilling him who they were, whence they came, how they had bought the farm, what plans they had made concerning it. She was a comely young woman, not older than Lucy, and not unlike her in stature and complexion. She and her husband had taken their bridal trip in an emigrant wagon eighteen month^ before. " It 's hard work, sir," she said, " but we are both young and well, and if we are prospered will have the farm paid for all clear in seven or eight years. Then, as my husband says, we are fixed for life." " I trust your hopes will be more than realized," said the guest politely. " Thank you, sir," she replied. " They say there v is some question about the title. I don't know. "We heard nothing of it when we bought, and Mr. Rice always poohs at it before me. But I know he 's not quite so easy in his mind as he pretends to be, and I overheard the neighbors talking with him about land sharks and land pirates, whatever they are, I don't know." " I hope you never will know," said Mr. MacAllan, coloring. THE CHARMS OF SOLITUDE. 255 "Oh, I hope not! I dou't see how any one can want to take our little home away from us." "It would be an outrageous thing to do," said Mr. MacAllan. " Yet," said she with a little sigh, " it would be harder on some others than on us. We are young, as John says, and could make a new home somewhere else ; but there are the Winters over here ; they are old people, barely able to take care of themselves. If they were to lose their place, they would have to go to the poorhouse. Then there are the Jileses. Mr. Jiles is an invalid, and his wife and two young boys carry on the farm. What could they do? Qr Mrs. Truesdell, who is a widow? Think of it ! and she the earliest settler on the Ottway Tract." Mr. MacAllan winced at the last two words. Was it possible that he was still on the Ottway Tract, and that the scheme to which he was committed involved the ejectment of these worthy people, and perhaps the reduction of some of them to beggary or starvation? It seemed to put the business in a very different light. " I trust your fears will prove groundless, madam," he said, rising. She made no response to this remark, and offered no objection to his departure. She firmly declined the money which he offered for his dinner, but read- ily pointed out the Rockby road. Could he find 256 THE ROCKANOGK STAGE. some one to carry him home? She did not know. Perhaps one of the Martins might. They lived beyond the four corners, half a mile away. He could inquire. " She suspects me," he said to himself as he walked away. He had never before felt so much like a criminal and an outcast. "It is a mean, contempti- ble piece of business," be exclaimed, " and I will take myself out of it, fortune or no fortune ! " When he readied the four corners he saw a common farm wagon, containing two men, approaching from a direction at right angles with his own. Hoping it would turn toward Rockby, or might be induced to do so, he sat down upon a wayside stone and awaited its approach. The occupants scrutinized him with sur- prising interest and stopped of their own accord. " Good day, neighbors," said he blandly, " are you going toward Rockby ? " " What if I was? " asked the driver bluffly. "I would make it worth your while to give me a ride. I have had a hard tramp, and am about played out." " Get right in," said the man. " You are going my way, then? " " Your way exactly, or you are going ours, which- ever you please. Get in." The answer did not seem very gracious, but the hunter was in no mood for criticism, and climbed into "Hi. Svr DOWN I'roN A WAISIM-; SIOM. \M. A WAITED I i - ArriioAni." THE CHARMS OF SOLITUDE. L } 57 the wagon without loss of time. To his surprise it turned about and went back the way it came. " Why, is this the way?" he asked. " Nighest way there is," replied the driver. "Then you are going back to accommodate me? That is making you too much trouble, I fear." " No trouble at all, mister," said the driver, wink- ing hard at his companion. " We 'd rather do it than not." Both men broke. into a laugh which the pas-* senger supposed to have reference to the compensation which they hoped to receive from him. " Well, I '11 make it right with you," said he. u I expect so," responded the driver, and the laugh was repeated. Mr. MacAllan began to feel a trifle uncomfortable in their society, though he hardly knew why. The ride was continued for some time in silence. After a while they came to a small village. " What place is this? " he asked. "Turableville." "Well, indeed, I am much farther from home than I supposed." " Yes, quite a ways," remarked the driver, pulling up before a low, dingy building, at the side of whose door was a strip of tin on which was legible, " T. Cherrycake, Justice of Peace." Several men and boys were lounging about the door, and others were coming from various directions. 258 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. " We shall have to get out here for a few minutes," said the man who was not driving. tb Let me hold your gun while you step out." He spoke in so matter- of-fact a tone, it seemed impertinent to ask an expla- nation. Mr. Mac-Allan handed him the gun. "Just step in here while we 're waiting, please," said the man, speaking over his shoulder, in the same tone as before. * Mr. MacAllan thought it all very strange, but was in a condition, mentally and physically, which made compliance easier than resistance, or even inquiry, and followed the man with the gun into the room to which he led him. The crowd, for the most part, fol- lowed too. Within, at a small desk, with two or three greasy, leather-bound volumes, and a chaos of papers upon it, sat a bald-headed, sharp-featured man with a pen in his hand. " Well, you've made the arrest, I see, Mr. Sheriff," he said. " No, I ha'n't exackly arrested him yit, square," replied the man with the gun, laying the weapon aside and drawing a paper from his pocket, "but I will to-rights. You see he ast to ride, and come right along with us, nolums volums, as you may say, so I thought there wa'u't no hurry about arresting him." " What does all this mean?" demanded MacAllan. THE CHARMS OF SOLITUDE. 259 " Silence iii the court ! " cried the justice. " Sher- iff, serve your papers ! " The sheriff stepped before Mr. MacAllan, and, unfolding the paper in his hand, said: " This here is a warrant against you for breaking the bird law. You 're my prisoner." The prisoner was thunderstruck. A murmur of gratification ran through the audience. " Let me see the warrant," said the prisoner. The sheriff gave it to him, and he read it critically, stroking his beard and frowning in vexation. " Well," said he to the justice, "what are you going to do about it?" " What are you going to do about it?" responded the justice. * l Am I to understand that I am on trial upon this charge ? " " Certainly- Where else be you, if you a'n't on trial?" " Excuse me ; I have been accustomed to see these things done a little more formally. But it is of no consequence. I am not in a position to stand upon ceremony. What specific violation of the law do you charge ? " "Josh, you can answer the gentleman as to that. What did you and Dave see last Saturday night?" " We see him shoot five chickens in the blueb'ry 2GO THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. bushes on Injun's Bluff," said a man near the door. MacAllan turned to look at him. It was the farmer who was in the stable when the double rig went out so gayly. On his feet were the hobnailed boots whose tracks the hunter had seen on the bluff. " What is your name? " asked MacAllah. " Martin." "Who is Dave?" "Dave Robberson ; here he is," pointing to a barefooted giant beside him. "Hm-m-m!" " Is that your plea?" asked the justice. "Not exactly. What other charges have you?" " Empty them coat pockets and we '11 see." Mr. MacAllau took off his coat and handed it to the sheriff, who proceeded to draw forth the contents of the pockets, calling out the items of discovery one by one, while the justice catalogued and classified them. " One rabbit." " Lawful game." "One fox-squirrel." " Ditto, ditto." " One partridge." " Shot on Saturday?" " No, to-day," said Josh Martin. " All right, then," said the justice. THE CHARMS OF SOLITUDE. 261 "Two bob-whites." " Them shot to-day, too?" " Yes," responded the omniscient Josh. "All right again." " One, two, three, four ducks." " Unlawful till September first." "One silk handkercher." " Neutral property." "One pocket comb and looking-glass." " Of no use except to the owner." A loud laugh followed this sally, during which Mac-Allan reached for his coat. "Wait a bit," said the sheriff, "till the court gives sentence." " I 'm a-figgering of it up," said the justice. " Five and four is nine ; and nine turns ten is ninety one half to complainant." " And costs," put in the sheriff. "And costs," assented the court. "Now whose land was the game shot on ? " " The ducks was shot on section eight ; owners unknown," replied Josh. " We can't git no holt of liim fer that. But the chickens was killed on Bill Stevens' land." " Do you complain of the prisoner for trespass, Bill?" asked Justice Cherrycake of a seedy-looking bystander. 262 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. " I do," answered Stevens. "Jest as many tres- passes as there was chickens." "That's five. Five turns ten is fifty one half to complainant." " And costs," suggested- the sheriff. " And costs," repeated Justice Cherrycake. " And now we '11 see about forfeiture," he continued, turning to the fly leaf of the statute book, where a newspaper cutting was pasted in. " I have n't got the statchutes of 1871 yet, but I found this in a paper and cut it out. It says all the game, guns, and sporting implements are to be forfeited." "That's a new wrinkle, a'n't it?" asked the sheriff. " Bran' new this year, and a good one, too." " That 's so," said the bystanders. " But the gun is not mine," protested MacAllan. "That don't make no odds. The statchute says * any gun or guns and sporting implements in his or their possession.' Read it for yourself. There 's the statchute in black and white." Mr. MacAllan took the book and read the alleged law with care. " What do you include in ' sporting implements '? " he asked. "Cartridge belt, ammunition, coat" " Coat ! Man alive ! how do you make out a coat to be a sporting implement, I should like to know ? " " That 's what you carry your game in," replied the THE CHAR. MS OF SOLITUDE. 263 justice coolly. " It 's used only for hunting purposes. You would n't think of wearing a tan-colored, bob- tailed duck coat, with all them pockets and game pouches in it, anywhere else, would you?" "That doesn't make it an implement." " I say it does ! The court has always ruled hunt- ing coats to be implements ; and hunting boots, too," he added, scrutinizing the prisoner's fine top-boots over his spectacles. Mr. MacAllan's face flamed with indignation. "You're a contemptible old idiot" ' Hold on ! " interrupted the justice, writing delib- erately as he spoke. " Don't talk quite so fast, please. I want to git that all down. ' Con-tempt-i-ble old id-i-ot ' all right ; now go on. Them words are worth about five dollars apiece in this market ; we can't afford to lose any of them." ''In that case," said the prisoner, "I will not gratify you by multiplying them." "Just as you say," answered the justice, laying down the pen. " Have you anything further to offer before sentence is pronounced?" " No, sir ; out with it ; the sooner the better ! " " Well, as this is your first offense, we '11 make the fine a hundred and forty dollars, and the costs fifteen, with forfeiture of the gun and implements, and of course the game." 264 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. " Must the payment be in cash? " "You don't s'pose we do a credit business, do you ? " " I will give you my check on the First National Bank of Rockby ; that is the best I can do." "Couldn't take it without some good backer per- sonally known to the court. Probably some of your friends in Tumbleville will endorse for you, or loan you the money,'' said the justice with a sneer. " I am painfully aware that I have no friends in this neighborhood," replied Mr. MacAllan. " Then I shall have to commit you." "Somebody run quick to section eight and tell his artist friend to step over here a minute," said Josh Martin. "No use," said the barefoot giant. "He's busy gettin' views of the Injun Bluff rocks. We saw his camera standin' out by the camp Saturday night. Didn't we, Josh?" " Well, Budd," said the justice, addressing the sheriff, " you can show the gentleman to his room." " You don't mean to say that you are going to lock me up ! " exclaimed MacAllan. "I don't mean anything else. We've locked up better men than you be before now." " You can keep the boots on till you get to the cell," said the sheriff confidentially as he approached the THE CHARMS OF SOLITUDE. 265 prisoner, " and send them back by me. You won't need them over there." A young farmer had been standing by, watching the proceedings in silence. He did not join in the laugh that followed the sheriff's last remark. "Square," said he, stepping forward, "I'm no friend of this man, or of them that are backing him. We all know what he went out to hunt. He 's hunting me and my little wife and baby. He 's hunting Josh and Dave and the widder Truesdell, and all the rest of us. But I like to see fair play, and I a'n't going to let the man go to jail for want of a backer, not to-day. I '11 endorse his check." " That alters the case," said the justice ; " with the endorsement of John Rice, I '11 take the check. We could give the gentleman good accommodations in the lockup, but probably your plan might suit him better." Mr. Mac Allan turned gratefully to his ally, holding out his hand. The young farmer took no notice of the proffer. " Write your check, if you 're going to," he said shortly. " And now," remarked the justice, " we '11 see about the gun and implements." " Sell them to the highest bidder," some one sug- gested, seconded by various expressions of appro- bation from other bystanders. 266 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. The justice assented, and the sheriff proceeded to the sale. " We '11 begin with these beautiful hunting boots," said he. " The gentleman will please remove them." The gentleman did so, and they were passed around for examination. Mr. MacAllan had a few dollars by him and counted on outbidding his competitors. But he soon reached the limit of his capital, and had the mortification to see his splendid top-boots struck down to the barefoot giant, who took possession of his purchase amid an uproar of laughter. " Put 'em on, Dave ! " cried the spectators. " On what? " he retorted, " my thumbs? " The coat came next, and was won by the same bidder. The gun and cartridge belt raised a brisk competition, but were finally secured by the giant. " You 've paid high for that truck, Dave," said a neighbor. "I'll sell it at a profit, though," he replied. "What does it all come to, Budd?" " Forty-seven dollars and seventy cents," answered the sheriff. Bootless, coatless, weaponless, the hunter stood before his tormentors. "You can go," said the justice. " Go ! " echoed half a dozen voices. As the crestfallen man turned toward the door the THE CHAli.MS OF SOLITUDE. 267 giant faced him. " Write me a check for fifty dollars and you shall have your boots, gun, and belt." 44 And coat?" " No; I guess I '11 keep that to remember you by." The check was written, and, hastily donning his boots and shouldering his gun, Mr. Mac Allan escaped from the room. If lie had felt any compunctions con- cerning the Ottvvay business, they were gone now. kt lt will be my turn to say 'Go' to the malicious wretches one of these days," he said as he took up his weary tramp again ; " then we '11 see ! " It was long past sunset when he reached the four corners and turned once more into the llockby road. It was fast growing dusk \\hen there came to his ears the sound of distant wheels. CHAPTER XX. A SISTER OF MERCY. ON the clay of Mr. MacAllan's unlucky adventures in forest and court, the Ottway Tract was visited by certain other Rockby folks, on an errand very different from that of the hapless sportsman. Dr. Ashley had been called, in urgent haste, to visit Mrs. Deacon Lorimer, a highly esteemed member of Mr. Austin's church, who was suffering from what the doctor called old-fashioned consumption. The recently agitated title question had called Deacon Lorimer to Chicago ; and Mrs. Lorimer's anxiety about the matter, together with the lack of usual care, and the necessity for unusual exertion, occasioned by her husband's absence, had brought on an acute attack, which was likely to prove fatal. Between the Lorimers and the Ashleys a strong friendship existed, in which Lucy had been lately in- cluded, especially since she became the teacher of the Sunday-school class attended by Mrs. Lorimer's two girls, sweet, coy maidens of ten and twelve. Both mother and daughters had fallen in love with Lucy at first sight, and the girls, at least, had adored her upon further acquaintance. A SISTElt OF MERCY. 269 When, therefore, the doctor returned to Rockby, he brought a message from the invalid, requesting Lucy and Mr. Austin to visit her. The doctor delivered the message to Mr. Austin, seconding the request, and offering one of his own horses for the purpose. Mr. Austin found the proposition very embarrassing. Pastoral visitation was the most trying of all his official duties, and that for which he felt himself most unfitted by nature and by training. He had a morbid dread of the sight of suffering, and almost a superstitious terror of death scenes. And what was so hard for him must, he felt sure, be incomparably harder for a girl of such exquisite sensibilities as Lucy, and so unaccustomed to such scenes as this. And how could he ask her to play deaconess to him, and take this long ride, in the summer heat and dust, in his stupid com- pany, and on an errand so distasteful? "You wished to see me?" she asked, coming into the parlor and standing expectantly before him. She was dressed in some delicate, creamy stuff, which seemed to have been created on purpose for her. Summer fabrics and costumes were especially becom- ing to her. " Mrs. Ashley said you asked for me." He marveled at his audacity in having done so, and wished that she would not stand so near him, over- whelming him with her beauty and making him feel so like an idiot and a clown. He explained Mrs. Lor- imer's condition. 270 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. "My poor girls!" said Lucy, "what will become of them? I must go to them at once." " That is precisely what Mrs. Lorimer has requested. The doctor just brought the message from her." " Will he take me out with him? Is he going back soon ? " " Not before evening at the earliest." " Then I will ask the major to drive me out. I can't wait so long as that. Poor, dear girls ! How terrible it is for them ! " She turned to leave the room. " If it is not entirely convenient for Major Gibson," " said Mr. Austin hesitatingly, " I am going out my- self, and the doctor has offered me Rosey and the phaeton." He felt obliged in courtesy to make the offer, though not doubting that the major's services would be preferred to his. But Lucy faced him again, with a look of unmistak- able pleasure. "Oh, thank you, Mr. Austin!" she said cordially. " If you don't mind taking me, I should like that much better. When shall we start?" " That shall be as you say." "In ten minutes then," she promptly replied. He heard her swift steps flying up the stair. Before the ten minutes had expired she stood before him again, ready for the ride, her creamy draperies exchanged for -1 SISTER OF MERCY. 271 a suit of Quaker drab. " Have I kept you waiting?" she asked. " Not a moment. Pat has just brought Rosey to the door." He took the light wrap which she had thrown over her arm, and accompanied her to the phaeton. Mrs. Lorimer welcomed their arrival with grateful looks, though she had scarcely strength enough to express her thanks audibly. At her side sat a neigh- bor, also a parishioner of Mr. Austin, who, after % a whispered word or two with the newcomers, excused herself and withdrew, promising to return at a later hour. The two girls crouching by the bedside, with swollen eyes, greeted Lucy with a piteous little heart- broken cry and crept sobbing into her arms. All the way out she had been vainly wondering what she could do when she got there to help the dying woman or to comfort the children. But it was no longer a matter of question or of choice. In the impulse of pity and tenderness she folded the poor girls in her arms, and silently wept with them. It was all that she could do. I hid she been, the Angel of Consolation she could have done nothing more sweetly comforting to either the mother or her children. Mr. Austin could not restrain his own tears, as he watched the scene, looking first at the group by the bedside, and then at the saintly face upon the pillow. Upon the wall, opposite the foot of 272 THE ROCKAXOCK STAGS. the bed, there hung a scroll of printed texts, for daily use. The passage for the day was outermost, and Mrs. Lorimer pointed to it with a smile : " THE MASTER is COME, AND CALLETH FOR THEE." " I hope it is a call to life and health," said Mr. Austin. " Yes," she whispered with a sudden kindling of the face, " perfect health eternal life ! " Her Bible lay on the stand by the bedside, and she signed to him that he should read. It was a well- worn book and opened of itself to certain passages, upon which she had evidently loved to dwell. He found and read them one by one now a Psalm, now a bit of prophecy, now a promise of the Master, now an apostolic message, now an apocalyptic vision. He wondered how he could have beeu at a loss to know what to do for a dying Christian with such resources as these at hand. After a time Lucy softly touched his arm and pointed to the bed. The invalid had sunk into a quiet sleep. He closed the book, with his finger at a half-read passage, and the four sat long silent, watching the sleeper. Once when an almost seraphic smile flitted across the pallid face, Mr. Austin raised his eyes to Lucy, who returned his glance with a smile of intelligence which said, " Yes ; is n't it beautiful?" but their lips did not move. At length he took an envelope from his pocket and A SISTER OF MERCY. 273 wrote upon the back, " If you do not mind being left for half au hour, I will drive over and inquire after Mr. Jiles ; I hear he is not so well of late." Lucy gave him again the smile of intelligence, which said, " Go; it is another part of the same min- istry. Do not feel concerned about me." The pastor made his visit. Never had the ministry seemed so delightful as to-day. Even the most trying of pastoral duties were losing their terror. Yet he owned to himself that Lucy 's gracious ministry was infinitely superior to his. "Would it have been the same if the major had come?" he asked himself. ki Will she be a Sister of Charity when she is married to him? Of course she will. God is preparing her to make her wealth and position and the marvelous power of her personal influence a great blessing." Mrs. Lorimer awoke from her sleep in great distress. Lucy sprang to her side all sympathy and alarm, but not knowing what to do. 44 Oh, raise her up ! " cried Lottie, the older daugh- ter. " We always raise her up when she is like that." Lucy's arms were beneath the mother's shoulders in an instant. With a strength unusual in her sex, and a deftness and skill impossible to the other, she raised the invalid to the required position, while the girls adjusted the pillows. Mrs. Lorimer breathed more freely again and smiled her thanks to Lucy. 274 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. " Where is Mr. Austin?" she asked, looking about the room. "He has gone to Mr. Jiles' for a few moments. It is almost time for him to be back. Is there some- thing I can do? Would you like to have me read to you?" " I think I should like to have you sing." It was a hard task; but how could it be refused? " What does your mother like best?" Lucy whispered to Lottie. The mother herself answered, " Jesus, lover" In a low voice, tremulous with emotion, Lucy began to sing the sweet old hymn. The face on the pillow looked ineffable peace. The languid eyes closed ; and before the last stanza was ended the invalid had again sunk to sleep. She awoke sooner than before and seemingly stronger. "Shall I sing again?" asked Lucy. "No," she said, " the hymn has been sung, and the Scriptures have been read ; we will now have the prayer." "Mr. Austin has not returned," said Lucy. "I am sure he will not be gone much longer. When he comes we will have the prayer." " You pray, dear," she said with a pleading look. Lucy had never uttered an audible prayer before others since she prayed as a child at her mother's knee. But she did not hesitate for a moment. Rising, she .1 SISTER OF MERCY. 275 led the two girls to the bedside where they all knelt together. The mother folded her hauds upon her breast and waited with closed eyes. In what words the prayer was spoken Lucy never knew. Her heart was full of gratefulness and peace, and her eyes of happy tears. She seemed to be inhaling an atmosphere of delicious inspiration, as of the breath of heavenly shores. If this was the Valley of the Shadow of Death, it was fairer than all the mountains of life. When she ceased a hand was laid softly upon her head, thrilling her like a memory of her childhood, and another prayer began. " Dear Jesus," it said, " when thou callest, it is blessed to go. Where thou dwi-llest, it is good to be. How beautiful must be the home into which thou hast brought thine own mother ! I shall soon be with thee and with her, with my own angel mother too, and my sweet babes. Take tender care of those who are left. Help poor James to bear his sorrow and let him partake of the joy I now feel, even as we have shared all other good together. Keep, O gracious Shepherd ! my two tender lambs. Gather them in thine arms and carry them in th} r bosom. Lay thy hand where mine is laid, and blesa this dear, motherless girl. Keep her heart pure and loving as it is to-day ; and make her a blessing to many, as she has been to me." 276 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. The tones were weak and the sentences were broken by pauses for breath. Mr. Austin had returned, and stood by with bowed head, and near him was the neighbor whom they had found there when they came. Mrs. Lorimer beckoned the neighbor and gave some directions for finding the linen which would be needed. She thanked Mr. Austin for his kindness, and com- mended the stricken ones to his care. She left touch- ing messages for her husband. She spoke low, sooth- ing words to the girls, stroking and patting their heads in a caressing way. Raising her eyes to Lucy, she said, ' I will find your mother and tell her how sweet you have been to me." Lucy stooped and kissed her twice upon the lips. " I will give one of them to your mother," said the sufferer, and never spoke again. The twilight was fading as the phaeton was turned toward Rockby. "O Mr. Austin!" said Lucy, "I think you have the most enviable calling in the world. If I were a man, I would be a minister." " Being a woman," he replied, " you have a higher ministry than mine. You have enjoyed its privileges this afternoon. It was you whom Mrs. Lorimer needed, not me. I am very thankful that you were there. What could I have done for her or the poor girls in comparison with what you have done?" "It is you and the things that you have taught A S 'IS TER OF MEECY. 277 me," said Lucy, " that have led me to attempt or -desire any Christian service at all." "It is a great happiness to hear you say that," responded the minister with feeling. " It is an unspeakable privilege to be able to say it," she replied. This was no interchange of pious compliments, but a mutual acknowledgment, as artless and as free from any conscious, personal sentiment on either side as if it concerned other people instead of IhemseU Another silence ensued, during which Mr. Austin again fell to speculating upon the future of his parishioner. But it caused him less concern than formerly, for he was convinced that her character was now too well fixed, and her relish for Christian philan- thropy too strong, to be changed by the wealth or influence of such a husband as Major Gibson. She, on her part, reverted to the events of the afternoon, and tried to picture to her mind the scenes which might even then be taking place in other realms. Had she in very deed sent a message that day to her sainted mother? a message and a kiss? At the thought the happy tears came again, and she indulged them silently, grateful for the darkness and her companion's abstraction. On a hill before them they saw the figure of a man outlined against the sky. As they approached him he 278 T1JE ItOCKANOCK STAGE. grew more and more uncanny to the sight a black- bearded, coatless, slouchy fellow, with shuffling step, and a gun carried breech downward under his arm. The gloom cast his face into shadow under his brig- andish hat, and made him look the bigger and more dangerous. Lucy, on whose side of the road the man walked, was in that state of excitability which made her as susceptible to fright as to any other strong feeling. They were in a lonely place, and ugly stories of mur- derous tramps were abroad. As they overtook the man, and he stepped back, faciug them to let them pass, she involuntarily shrank close to Mr. Austin and almost convulsively clutched his arm. The next moment she exclaimed : " Why, it is Mr. MacAllau ! " It was no other. And for the first time he regretted an encounter with Miss Darling. He would rather at that moment have heard any other sound. As the phaeton stopped, his wit, his self-possession, even his manners forsook him utterly, and he stood speechless before her. But she had lost neither. "You gave me such a fright!" she said with a sigh. "I really took you for some robber chief." Then looking at him more closely, as the glow from the still luminous west fell upon his face, she added in a tone that went to his heart, "Oh, how tired you look ! How (Jreadf ully tired ! What is the matter ? " A SISTER OF MERCY. 279 "I have been hunting," he said, "and was lost in the woods. An all-day tramp without food was a little too much for me." " I should think as much ! You must ride home with us. Pray get in at once. I am so thankful we overtook you ! " Mr. Mac Allan demurred. He was unwilling to crowd them. He was not in a presentable costume. Lucy silenced every objection, and said she would ride on Rosey's back sooner than have him walk another step. She gathered her skirts closely about her, made Mr. Austin sit nearer to her, and left the tramp room enough and to spare. The poor fellow sank into his seat, almost ready to cry with grate- fulness. Never had she been so affable or so sympathetic. Never had he so adored her. Never had he so nearly despaired of winning her. She took no heed of his present plight, aud almost made him forget it. But when the whole story of the day's adventures should reach her, as it surely must, what could keep her from despising him? In the very fullness of her kindness toward him she unwittingly increased his discomfort. She asked so particularly concerning his misadventures, of which he could tell only a part, that he was driven to evasion and wholesale invention. 280 THE EOCKAXOCK STAGE. And, what was more trying still, she spoke freely of the visit from which the pastor and herself were just returning; the unexpected summons; their dread of the scene ; their happy disappointment ; the beautiful death they had witnessed ; the cloud of glory that seemed to overshadow them all. Her tears flowed afresh as she related it ; and he, miserable hypocrite that he was, could not keep back bis own. "But to think, Mr. MacAllau," she added, "that such saints as that should be hunted and persecuted by greedy men, who want to steal away their little home or make them pay for it twice over ! " " Dreadful ! " said Mr. MacAllan. " And the neighbors all say, and I believe it is true, that it is the worry about that, and the absence of her husband to see about it, that send that lovely woman to the grave." " It is monstrous," said the conspirator. ** It is martyrdom," said Lucy. " It is murder," said the minister. CHAPTP:R xxi. A SISTER OF CHARITY. WHAT next?" Mr. MacAllan asked himself that night, tossing sleeplcssly upon his bed. Tired as he was, his shame and anxiety would not let him close his eyes. That the Tumbleville affair would In- published in detail by the barefoot giant and his crew, there could not be a doubt. That Rockby would be full of it within twenty-four hours, was equally certain. What would be its effect upon Miss Darling's mind, and upon his chances of winning her favor and fortune? At first view it seemed fatal to all his hopes, and he resolved to relinquish them and to leave Rockby at once and forever. Yet to do so was to accept financial ruin, for he was already so far in old Krauntz's debt that to break with him would bring certain beggary. Besides, he really loved Miss Darling and was not without hope that she' had some slight regard for him. At any rate, she was kind and generous. "I will cast myself upon her magnanimity," he said. " She shall hear my version of the story before the other reaches her. The frankness of my course will please her ; my appeal to her generosity 281 282 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. will flatter her ; iny misfortunes and persecutions will awaken her sympathy. But if not, and she joins with my enemies, it will be the easier to learn to hate her. I will try ; and if there be any such thing as conquering fate, I will do it." He rose and went to the window and looked out through the closed blinds. The breath of the summer night came to him with the faint herb odors of the garden and the sound of rustling corn leaves. He looked at the Ashley mansion. It was dark and still. " There she sleeps ! " he whispered to himself. The thought gave him fresh resolve, if not courage. " I will never give her up till she tells me with her own lips that she detests me." Then there appeared to him a vision, which held him in a trance of wonder and admiration. At the window opposite, where once only, in all his hours of watching, he had had a momentary glimpse of his en- chantress, the shade was slowly raised, the blinds were softly opened, and lo ! there she stood like a beautiful goddess, framed in light, with all the glory of her unbound hair streaming about her shoulders. Had the window of heaven opened, and the fairest of the angels looked forth, Mr. Mac Allan could hardly have felt it a sweeter surprise. She evidently thought all the world asleep except herself. Kneeling by the window, she threw one arm A SISTER OF CHARITY, 283 across its ledge, laid her cheek upon it, and looked long and wistfully into the sky. How the watcher wondered what fascination held her there, and what her eyes discovered in the depths beyond the stars ! More than once or twice he fancied that lie saw her brush a tear from her cheek. At last, through some sul tle sense, she seemed to take alarm, started to her feet, closed the blinds quickly but silently, drew down the shade, and the fair vision was gone. Mr. MacAllan darkened his own windows and lighted his lamp. It was one o'clock. He felt im- pelled to begin, that very moment, his efforts for the recovery of his lost vantage ground. He first wrote to Mr. Pack, giving him a brief account of what had taken place, and representing to him in the strongest terms that his success in their main undertaking, if not already defeated by the Ottway affair, could now only be secured by abandoning it, and wished it dis- tinctly understood that he would have nothing more to do with the scandalous business. He did not speak quite so freely as he would have liked to do, as he found it necessary to call for funds to meet the ex- penses of his recent expedition. He did not forget to report the increasing graciousness of his ladylove, or to quote her opinions concerning land piracy. This done, he extinguished his lamp and once more sought his bed. A plan of procedure was shaping 284 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. itself in his thought, promising him victory over his difficulties. His mind being thus partially tranquil- ized, he yielded to his fatigue and, just as the dawn was growing gray, fell asleep. He was awakened by a loud knocking at his door, followed by the entrance of Deacon Wauberton, w-ho informed him that it was nine o'clock ; that his non- appearance had alarmed the family, and that Ned Jennings was waiting to speak with him. " Tell Jennings," said Mr. MacAllan, " that I can- not see him to-day." "You are sick, sir!" said the deacon in distress, coming nearer to the bed, and seeing how pale his boarder looked. " We all feared as much. I will go for Dr. Ashley this minute." " Please don't," replied Mr. MacAllan languidly. " It is not so serious as that, I hope. Perhaps I may be driven to it, but not just yet, my dear sir ; thank you all the same." '" Then let us do something for you." " Nothing, thank you, at present. I will dress and come downstairs ; then, perhaps, I will ask for a trifle of Mrs. Wauberton's nice toast and tea." The deacon bustled away to dismiss Jennings, and reported to Mother Wauberton and Maggie that, in his opinion, Mr. MacAllan was coming down with a fever. The family had retired before the return of A SISTER OF CHARITY. 285 the hunter on the previous night, and knew nothing of the causes of his present condition. When he appeared to them, in becoming dressing gown and slippers, his step so weary, his handsome face of such an interesting paleness, they overwhelmed him with sympathy and advice. Mrs. Wauberton was ready with the toast and tea ; likewise with the proffer of the whole category of roots, herbs, decoctions, and patent medicines in the family pharmacopeia ; while Maggie, the most charming of nurses, hovered about him with a devotion truly sisterly. Among themselves they held anxious consultations concerning his case, and were unanimous in the opinion that he was going to have a fit of sickness, and that he ought to have the doctor. So Maggie told Lucy, and Lucy told Helen, and Helen told the doctor. But he, obdurate man, stood upon professional ceremony, and would not go till he was sent for. Lucy stood upon no ceremony whatever. The be- nevolent feeling was strong within her ; and as Mag- gie, after giving her report, had hurried on to do the morning marketing, Lucy caught up her hat and made her way alone to the Wauberton cottage. It did not occur to her that there was any occasion for embar- rassment in making a call of sympathy nipon a sick young gentleman. Mr. MacAllan, gracefully posing in the easiest 286 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. chair in the family sitting room, heard a light step and a rustle of garments, and turning his head, saw Lucy coming through one of the long windows that opened to the floor on the west piazza. She had not expected to find him there, and stopped with a little blush and exclamation of surprise. His delight was too genuine and intense to be concealed. " Maggie tells us you are ill," she said, advancing and giving him her hand, which he could hardly refrain from kissing. " I am very sorry." She stood a moment, regarding him with a look of bewitching commiseration, and then took a neighboring chair. Maggie's sisterliness was cold in comparison with hers. Whether he knew it or not he was in precisely the position to appeal most powerfully to her heart. Masculine strength challenges a woman's admiration, but strength disarmed and helpless, the warrior wounded, the hero fainting, even an enemy over- thrown and bleeding, move her to infinite tenderness. He thanked her with sincere feeling for her kind solicitude, and took all possible pains to increase it. Yes, he was sick, he could not deny it. He hoped nothing serious was coming of it. He could n't bear making trouble for the Waubertons. Besides, his -business needed him every hour. But just at this moment physical suffering or pecuniary loss was noth- ing in comparison with certain anxieties which pressed A SISTER OF CHARITY. 281 upon him. He sighed and looked out of the window, biting his lip. Lucy's pity was increased by this con- fession ; for what is more pitiable to a sympathetic woman than a man in trouble ? There is but one touch beyond it, and Mr. MacAllan soon reached that. u Miss Darling," said he, " I was not quite frank with you last night, but I think you will forgive me when you hear my explanation." Here was the supreme appeal to her pity, that of penitence and the suit for pardon. She felt a little uncomfortable, but neither encouraged nor discouraged the explanation. " Had you known that I had just escaped from a justice court where I had been heavily fined for viola- tion of law, you would hardly have been so kind to me." "That would depend, Mr. MacAllan," replied Lucy with dignity, " upon the nature of your offense." " That is a noble answer, Miss Darling, a generous, magnanimous answer, and just what I should expect from you." He spoke with a fervor which startled Lucy, but she found the tribute gratifying, and told herself that he talked like tin innocent man. "I was arrested no, I went of my own accord before a justice, to answer for a violation of the game law, which I had ignorantly and unintentionally broken." Lucy smiled at the absurdity of regarding such an 288 THE ROCKAXOCK STAGE. offense seriously. " What a dreadful criminal ! " she said. "Of course the penalty was merely nominal under the circumstances." "On the contrary, Miss Darling, it was very heavy, and was accompanied with insults and indignities which left no doubt that the prosecution was malicious. Let me tell you." He related the story of his sufferings : how, when almost dead with fatigue, his enemies had allured him to the place of trial under pretense of giving him a ride ; how he found himself in a legal trap ; how he was condemned upon the testimony of spies who had been dogging his steps ; how the law had been so miscon- strued as to justify them in stealing the very coat from his back ; and how, after they had done their worst to him, they had driven him out with jeers and threats. Lucy heard him in angry amazement. "What savages ! " she cried. " Is there no redress for such wrongs? Is there no real justice to revise such mon- strous proceedings ? " She looked upon Mr. Mac-Allan as a noble martyr, and resolved to arouse or shame somebody to secure him reparation. Mr. MacAllan accepted the martyr r61e, and said that he knew of no redress. Indeed he cared little for these wrongs, if he could only know that his friends retained their respect for him. A SISTER OF CHARITY. 289 " If they are worth being called friends," said Lucy warmly, " I am sure they will esteem you all the more for what you have suffered. I do." " I would gladly suffer it many times over for the sake of hearing you say that," he said. Lucy took the remark as merely a courteous retort, but found it highly agreeable. "After all," remarked he, "we must not be too hard upon them. They think they have reason for hating and persecuting me." "Indeed?" " Yes. You referred last night to the Ottway titles. I am unfortunately involved in that matter, or at least I have been." Lucy took alarm. " You do not mean" " I mean that as a real-estate agent certain busi- ness connected with the disputed claims was placed in my hands. I knew nothing of the contesting parties or of the merits of the case. I went about it as innocently as I did about my unlawful shoot- ing. That is the real secret of the prosecution. The men who spied upon me, decoyed me into court, ami finally robbed and threatened me, were Ottway settlers." " Mr. Mac Allan ! I thought they were all nice, Christian people like tin- Loriinrrs." " And they thought that I was one of those ' greedy 290 THE EOCKAXOCK STAGE. men,' to whom you referred as being engaged in bunting and persecuting the saints, stealing their lands, and driving them to their grave." It was Lucy's turn for penitence: "How shameful of me to say such a thing ! I knew nothing of the facts. At least, I only half knew one fact. Pray, forgive my thoughtlessness. I wonder you did not answer me as I deserved, or refuse to ride in my com- pany ! " " Miss Darling, I had not a thought of resent- ment, and it pains me more than all else to have you blame yourself. I cannot let you do it. I knew that you would acquit me of wrongdoing when you heard the facts, and I resolved that you should hear them." 14 1 thank you for taking so much pains on my account. I fear you have fatigued yourself with all this talking." "It has been an indescribable pleasure. If you are not \"et tired of the subject, let me finish it. My busi- ness with the Ottway Tract related to the unoccupied portion only. It was my presence there, with some surveyors in my employment, which aroused the sus- picions of the settlers. The hunting, which was inci- dental, and the getting lost, which was disagreeably accidental, gave them a chance to veut their undeserved spite on me.' ,1 SISTER OF CHARITY. 291 " And you were not operating against Mr. Lorimer or the rest of them ? " " Not in the least. But when I saw that my course was likely to be misconstrued by people whose esteem I prize above money, especially when I saw Jay your remark last night that you were liable to misconstrue it, I resolved to have nothing more to do with it ; and before I slept I wrote to my Chicago customers, throw- ing up the whole business." Lucy did not trust herself to express her admiration of this sacrifice. "I do not see why it should cause you another moment's uneasiness," she said. He shook his head. "Everybody is not so reason- able and so charitable as you. I know what will happen. Before night the story, as told by my ene- mies, will be in Rock by ; most likely it is here now. People will believe it. They always most easily believe the worst. I cannot go up and down the streets proclaiming my innocence ; and if I could, who would credit it? No, no, Miss Darling, if a few trusted friends have faith in me, it is all that I expect." "I have faith in you!" said the impulsive girl, rising ami extending her hand. " Then I will defy the rest of the world ! " said he, rising also. He felt that his hour had come. He would now tell her all his heart, at least all that would 292 THE nOCKAXOCK STAGE. bear telling. After what had passed between them he could not doubt the effect of a declaration. " May I say one thing further, Miss Darling, and "one more nearly concerning my happiness than all the rest?" " Certainly," said she innocently, resuming her seat and folding her hands in her lap with perfect com- posure. " Oh, here comes Maggie ! She is just in time to hear it also. Come here, Maggie dear ; Mr. MacAllan is telling me the strangest story, which you must hear every word of." Mr. MacAllan seemed not quite prepared to go on with his part. Whereupon Lucy herself took up the tale, and in her own graphic way repeated the sub- stance of what had just been told her. Maggie listened with eager attention, uttering frequent ex- clamations, and ending as Lucy had done in regard- ing Mr. MacAllan as a noble martyr. "And now," said Lucy, "you were just saying that the climax of the story remained to be told." "I am rather fatigued," he replied; " perhaps we had better save the rest till another day." " By all means. You have talked quite too long already." So with fresh expressions of sympathy and inquir- ies concerning his wishes, and vain entreaties for permission to send the doctor, the ladies left him. .1 "-'/XTES OF CHARITY. 293 Communing upon the subject between themselves, they agreed that it was perfectly dreadful; that he had behaved splendidly in the matter ; and that it was a time for his friends to stand by him. Bent on fulfilling their part of that duty, they separated. Maggie told the story to her mother, and her mother to the deacon. Lucy told it to Helen and the major, and Helen told it to the minister and the doctor. It was not too soon. Before it began to circulate on the street, the competitive statement had already been current for hours. People took their choice between the two, a majority preferring the Tumbleville version. In that majority were to be reckoned the male members of the Ashley household. The doctor smiled knowingly at Helen's impassioned statement, and advised her to go slow. The minister listened respectfully to Lucy, but with evident preju- dice. The major laughed at her credulity, and remarked that Mack was a sly one. Of course all this aroused her to a more ardent advocacy of the martyr's cause. She knew he was innocent, and it was only a perverse determination t<> believe the worst about him that prevented their agreeing with her. Mr. Solomon Drabsider, the editor of The RocUl>y Interview, called, upon Mr. Mac. Mian to see if that gentleman had any statement to make concerning 294 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. the unhappy affair. The next issue of his. paper treated the subject with that even-handed justice so admirable in an independent and incorruptible journal. It devoted exactly two columns to the dis- cussion. The first column contained The Tumbleville Gazette's account of the arrest, trial, and punish- ment of the " notorious land pirate, title-clouder, trespasser, law defier, etc., MacAllan," with copious allusion to his " infamous operations and con- spiracies to defraud honest citizens of their prop- erty," and an assertion that he was the " tool of a set of the most merciless usurers and unscrupulous swindlers in Chicago." The other column hurled scathing denunciations at the Tumbleville editor, ac- cording to the accepted methods of inter-editorial warfare, and informed the public that Mr. MacAllan was, upon his own word of honor, deserving of respect and confidence ; that he had ignorantly vio- lated the law, and innocently accepted business of an objectionable character, but that he had promptly withdrawn from all connection with the Ottway land- grabbers. Thus was the public again presented with two ver- sions of the affair; and again, as before, a pretty large majority gave the preference to the Tumbleville view. But the smaller the number of those who * believed in him, the more immovable was Lucy's A X 1ST Ell <>!' ( II A 111 TY. determination to defend him. If he had not another friend in Rockby, she would stand by him. Tliis was precisely as he wished it ; and he counted the sudden unpopularity which had bound this girl to him, and raised him to the position of a hero in her estimation, the most fortunate of accidents. CHAPTER XXII. BETTER ACQUAINTANCE. MR. MACALLAN received no more calls from the Sister of Charity. His condition, duly reported by Maggie, was not such as to require her further attention: Deacon "Wauberton's apprehen- sions concerning him were not realized. He did not have a fever, nor any other recognized disease ; but, either from the effect of Lucy's visit, or because he dis- pensed with medical advice, or because he really was not seriously ill, his convalescence was surprisingly rapid. Meantime Lucy's ministry of kindness called her again to the Ottway Tract. It was she who laid fresh flowers on the sleeper's breast, and let God's air and sunshine into the darkened room. It was she who told the husband the story of the peaceful, beautiful death, weeping and smiling with him as they dwelt upon it. It was she who comforted the motherless girls, and aided with counsel, taste, and handiwork in such changes as were needful in the simple wardrobe. " Now, about mourning bonnets and dresses," said the deacon. " You know what is suitable, Miss Darling." 296 BETTER ACQUAIXTAXCE. 297 "O Mr. Lorimcr ! You don't mean black." " I supposed it was the custom, that's all." "But is it a Christian custom? Has not Chris- tianity surrounded death with all that is bright and glad ? And here in this house have we not witnessed it as a glorious translation? Let us not belie it all and wrap ourselves in sackcloth. Do you think that she, in her shining white to-day, would like to see her dear girls draped in black ? " Lottie lifted a sad little face from Lucy's shoulder to say, u Once mother tried to tell us what to do after she died ; and she said not to put on mourning for her ; but then we began to cry, and she cried, too, and did n't say any more." The listeners did the same cried, and said no more. The day of the funeral seemed like a day of tri- umph. The room was bright with flowers, arranged by Lucy and Maggie. Their hands had also covered the casket and the undertaker's stiff funeral crape with soft, cri'aiii-tiiitrd draperies, amid which the sleeper lay, as on a royal couch. The distant rela- tives came in black, and so did such of the neighbors as possessed garments of the conventional color. But the girls were dressed in white, as for a fte, and carried flowers in their hands. The whole service was suggestive of joy and vie- 298 THE KOCKANOCK STAGE. tory. There was no funeral sermon ; no attempt to harrow up the feelings of the mourners under pretense of comforting them ; no intimation that there were any mourners at all, but a recognition of the divine and gracious meaning of the event which had made that house as the house of God and the very gate of heaven. "Queer kind of a funeral, wasn't it?" remarked one neighbor to another as they went toward the cemetery. "Oh, well enough ! Rather short for a funeral." "Awful short. No sermon, you see; no remarks at all." "One thing I did like, though; he read real Scrip- ture, right out of the Book, not that sort of hodge- podge of chopped-up texts, such as some of these modern parsons use." " The singing was uncommonly good, don't you think ? " " Extra good. Kind of a picked-up choir, too, I guess. That long-whiskered fellow that sings at their church wasn't there." "He! I guess not. Don't you know who he is? He 's that MacAllan, the land shark, they took up the other day over at Tumbleville."" "Is that the fellow? Well, I guess he won't sing at many funerals out this way very soon." BETTER ACQUAIXTAXCE. 299 44 Some of us may have to sing at his, if he don't mind his p's and q's a little better." " Well, call on me any time." On the evening of the day succeeding the funeral, Mr. MacAllan, so rapid was his recovery, felt himself equal to a drive. Ordering his horse to be sent up, he went to Dr. Ashley's and asked for Miss Darling. The time was now past when he must watch for favor- able chances to call, or contrive stratagems in order to gain interviews with her. He contrasted their present relation with that in which they had stood a few weeks ago, and congratulated himself upon the change. IIo\v would she meet him to-day? He was not long left in doubt. She treated him kindly, though not with the affectionate cordiality for which he had hoped. ' I came to return your call," he said. u Oh, thank you ! " she replied, smiling faintly. " You are, I believe, the only gentleman whom I ever placed under such an obligation." There was a mani- fest constraint in her manner which he found disap- pointing. He was no longer a disabled knight whose helplessness appealed to the pity of a Sister of Charity. The only claim he still had upon her in that capacity was on the ground of his exposure to what she be- lieved to be the unmerited disfavor of his neighbors. " I am proud of the distinction, I assure you," he said, " and will try to show my appreciation of it." 300 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. She wondered in what way he meant to show it, and being not quite sure what a discreet answer would be, said nothing. He was too conceited to appreciate the cause of her changed behavior, but attributed it to maiden coyness. "Of course," he said to himself, "she will not make advances ; that is my business. This loss of her ordinary offhand gayety is a good sign. She knows her fate is at hand, and feels nervous about it." " You are quite well again, I hear," she said. " Quite well is rather too much to say. I am equal to the enjoyment of a pleasure, if you will grant it me." " Which of your pleasures can depend upon me?" He was upon the point of saying that all his happi- ness depended upon her. He almost believed that that was the answer she Avished and expected him to make. But he would not venture it here. Wait till they were less liable to interruption. "The other night you asked me to ride with you ; allow me to reciprocate the invitation. My horse is at the door, and I am at your service." She accepted the invitation with thanks, though not with the eagerness which he would have liked. " Shall I need a wrap?" she asked with charming deference to his judgment as she went to make herself ready. " It would be more prudent to take it," he replied, being secretly certain that they were to have a long ride and a late return. BETTER ACQUAINTANCE. 301 Passing Mrs. Ashley's door, Lucy stopped to tell her that she was going to ride with Mr. MacAllan. "Going to ride with Mr. MacAllan!" Helen re- peated, with marked emphasis upon the name and an inflection denoting both surprise and regret. "Certainly. AVhy not? " "Oh, I don't know! I couldn't give any very decisive reasons for not going, but" "But I can give decisive reasons for going." '* For instance?" " It will show that I don't believe him to be a pirate." " Suppose it turns out that he is?" " Then I will own myself a fool ! " So she went. The ride proved entirely agreeable. Once upon the road she was herself again. The air, the motion, the scenery, the scent of fields and woods, exhilarated her. Mr. MacAllan had never .seen her so vivacious or so affable. She had never found him so entertain- ing. They talked of New England and of Old Eng- land, of pleasant rambles here and there, of scenes famous and scenes romantic. Mr. Mac-Allan tried again and again so to shape the conversation as to bring it to the point where he could introduce the topic uppermost in his own thoughts, but he could never succeed in doing so. She betrayed no suspicion of his design, yet seemed instinctively to shun the point to which he would bring her. 302 THE ROCKAXOCK STAGE. They rode neither long nor late. Much as he wished to protract the pleasure, and reluctant as he was to give up his main purpose, she contrived to guide and limit the excursion, without seeming to know that she did. So the daylight still lingered, and the wrap was still folded when they stopped at Dr. Ashley's gate. She thanked him for the ride, which she pronounced a great pleasure. He expressed the hope that it might soon be repeated. She said neither yes nor no, but thanked him again in a way that he interpreted to mean, "There will be no difficulty about that." The major was smoking his cigar in the garden, and came forward in time to open the gate for her and fling a curt good evening to her escort. She greeted him affectionately, and, taking his arm, walked up and down the garden path with him, telling him where they had been and what they had seen. He was not very responsive, but could not find it in his heart to give her the scolding which he had prepared for her. She gave no sign that she observed his ill-humor, but chatted on in her gayest strain till she had completely charmed the evil spirit from him ; then she went to her room, locked the door, and cried for an hour. She knew that her course was disapproved by the entire family, and the knowledge brought a sense of es- trangement which was hard to bear. Yet, upon a care- ful review of all the circumstances, she was confirmed BETTER ACQUAIXTA.YCE. 303 in the opinion that she was right aud they were wrong. As a conscientious girl, therefore, she must do what was right, however unhappy it might make her. Let it not be supposed that Mr. MacAllan had lost caste in Rockby society, or that even those who thought worst of him attributed to him any misde- meanors which, as selfish human nature goes, would seriously affect his business or social standing. He had simply been re-classified. Instead of a high- minded gentleman of means, taking conscientious care of his own property, and consenting, as a special favor, to do a limited amount of strictly first-class business for other high-mimk'd gentlemen, he was discovered to be just as low-minded and capable of acting just as sordid a part as any one of a dozen substantial citizens of the town. No one looked upon him as a criminal. No one thought of shutting him out of good society. His delinquencies were not generally regarded as serious. But they were of pre- cisely that character which make a reputable man the object of secret contempt. Among the proofs quoted in evidence of his un- scrupulousness were advertisements in The Rock by Interview, The Turnbleville Gazette, and other local pripers, of foreclosure proceedings, in which appeared the name of Jacob Krauntz as the creditor. Jacob Kraunt/, was known in the region as the meanest and 301 THE ItOCKASOCK STAGE. most oppressive of usurers ; and Mr. MacAllan was known to be his agent. Several cases were cited in which notes had been extended at exorbitant rates, or settlements forced with the most relentless severity, all in the interest of Jacob Krauntz, and all through the direct or indirect agency of Mr. MacAllan. The Ottway business was notorious and unsavory. The means which had been resorted to for clouding the titles, the contemptible tricks employed, the mean advantage taken of the ignorance of some owners and of the poverty of others, had not only exasperated tlie settlers themselves, but secured for them the sym- pathy of the surrounding population. To be in any capacity an accomplice in these frauds was infamous. The twentieth day of August did not begin the decline and fall of Mr. MacAllan. It only brought to the public a chance to speak its mind about him when he was at a ridiculous disadvantage. The hunt- ing episode was of consequence only from its relation to the business of which he attempted to make it a cover. It enabled his adversaries to make him a laughing-stock, and gave them an opportunity to direct public attention to his alleged piracy. Some people took serious views of his offenses, and wondered how such a man was still permitted to sing in a church choir, or to move in respectable society. A mucn larger number looked upon him as a sharp BETTER ACQUAINTANCE. 305 and rather grasping fellow, but not much worse than others in his line of business. A few believed him to have been himself the victim of swindlers,, from whom he had made haste to deliver himself the moment he discovered their character. . To this charitable minor- ity belonged the Waubertons and Miss Lucy Darling. They had the statement from his own lips, and were positive that he spoke the truth. Lucy's faith in Mr. MacAllan's integrity increased upon further acquaintance. She had had no experi- ence with dishonorable people, and could not believe that one of them could act so like an honest man. She sang with him in the church choir, and frequently accepted his escort to and from rehearsal. She took many a drive with him behind the horse which she did not suspect to have been bought solely on her account. They talked of many things together, and always with mutual satisfaction. He showed the greatest respect for her opinions, and commonly agreed with them. She could not but be struck with the contrast between him and the minister. Whereas Mr. Austin often differed with her and sought strenuously to con- vince her of her mistakes, Mr. MacAllan's views and her own were almost always in harmony. She ob- served, too, that lie rarely led in conversation, but waited for her to do so. He did not propose topics, 306 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. but took those proposed by her. Often it seemed as though they had been in his own mind at the very moment that she recurred to them. Even the most serious subjects were welcomed by him. When Lucy referred to the theme of a recent sei'mon, or to the next week's Sunday-school lesson, or to some high spiritual truth upon which she had been meditating, he was all attention. His religious views did not seem to be formed, nor did he always catch her meaning, but he was so serious, so candid, so anxious to get at the truth that she began to be- lieve that she was the only one who really knew him. And when he would sigh and relapse into silence, or make some tender reference to his mother, or say, "Ah, Miss Darling, what would I not give for such a faith as yours ! " she was full of grief and pity for him. In truth, Mr. Mac Allan was not altogether the hypocrite he might seem. He loved Lucy, and ad- mired everything that she did. The beautiful Chris- tian character which she showed, and the pure and noble thoughts which she expressed, made a profound impression upon his mind. He really wished that he might share with her so sweet and holy a thing as her religion. He sometimes really persuaded himself that he was sincerely seeking the truth 5 and when she one day alluded to her purpose of uniting with the church . BETTER ACQUAINTANCE. 307 on the next sacramental occasion, he was almost ready to offer himself also as a candidate. There was one marked exception to the attitude of passivity respecting topics of discourse. There was one topic of which he never lost sight, and to which he was always seeking to lead the conversation, and always without success. Ride after ride they took ; hour after hour they talked; but a fitting time to say what he wished he could not find. That she knew his heart and reciprocated its affection he had not a doubt, but .she would never let him speak out. "We have not yet gone through the ceremony of declaration and acceptance," he wrote to Pack, " but it is perfectly understood between us. I am only waiting for exactly the i ight lime, and she knows it. I 've carried the engagement ring in my pocket two weeks. Probably before you read this it will be on her finger." Yet the next interview brought him no nearer to the point. There seemed to be a spell upon him that, try as he would, he could not break. It was rehearsal night, and her singing had thrilled him. " Perhaps," he said to himself as they walked home together, " it is her religion that makes the barrier between us. She will not let me spe:;k till I am as she is." Never did religion look so attractive. He sincerely thought that he desired it. Would he desire it but for her? Probably not. But what did that prove? 308 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. That she was the one who was sent to win him to the faith. " Miss Darling," he said, " I have a special request to make of you." " I hope it is one that I can grant," she said. "You can easily grant it, Miss Darling, and it would be the greatest favor you could do me. I want you to pray for me." " Why, I " she began, and checked herself. "What do you want me to pray for?" " That I may be a Christian." " Why don't you ask me to pray that you may pay your debts ? " " That is a matter of volition." " Yes, under divine grace, and so is this." " Will you not pray for me, then? " " Do you mean to be a Christian ? " " I hope to be, with your help." ' If you depend upon my help, you never will be one." " Will you not pray for me, then?" " When you come and tell me that you pray for yourself, then I will pray for you." He bade her good night and went his way, re- flecting that he had formed no purpose to be a Christian, but had only consented to be wrought upon by some sweet influence from the woman whom he loved. SETTER ACQUAINTANCE, 309 Yet Lucy had not said that she would not pray for him. She only refused to let him believe that her act could take the place of his. She did pray for him. She had prayed for him, morning and evening, for many a day. CHAPTER XXIII. UNCONSCIOUS EVANGELISM. ON a Wednesday evening late in August, Lezer called upon Dr. Ashley to report to him upon the merits of a horse, concerning whose purchase he had been consulted. "I am sorry to ask you to come again," said the doctor, "but the Standing Committee of the church is in session here this evening. Will you wait till we are through ? or come another time ? " "How long will the Standin' Committee be a-set- tin' ? " inquired Lezer. " Not long. 'We have one candidate for member- ship before us, that is all." " Wall, then I guess I '11 wait." The doctor was about to show him into the office, when he checked himself, and took him instead to the library, a cozy little room at the rear of the parlors. " Make yourself at home here," he said, " and I shall be at liberty in half an hour at the farthest." He passed through a door at the farther corner of the room, leaving it open behind him. The Committee was in session in the adjoining room ; and Lezer, 310 UXCO \SCIO US EVANGELISM. 311 without seeing or being seen, was compelled to Lear all the proceedings. The first sound that reached him was that of Lucy's voice ; for she was the " one candidate " to whom the doctor had referred, and was now engaged in an in- formal conversation with the Committee concerning her religious experience. "I do not mean," she said, addressing Mr. Austin, " that no stronger influences have been felt. You have unfolded some great truths to my mind, and so have the books that you have lent me. But at the ival turning points in my religious life, if I may call it such, the new direction has been given by what seemed a mere random word. "The very first of them met me on my way here." She related the conversation with Lezer at the foot of the hill, and how his words had startled here : " Could a man stand here five minutes, with his eyes and ears open, and not think of Him? Could a woman? Then they hain't got no heart ! " There was a sudden sound in the library, as of a man starting to his feet, but no one noticed it except the doctor. "The words affected me deeply at the moment," she continued, "and they returned to me again and again, with increasing power, till they filled me with shame and self -detestation. 312 THE nOCKANOCK STAGE. ' Then, Mr. Wauberton, you remember that we were talking that same night about church matters, and my sister called me a pagan. She did not know how true it was, and was vexed with me for minding it, but the word haunted me and would not let me rest. k Xext came little Margie, and put her arms around my neck, and innocently asked me if I was going to live with them for ever and ever. That was the most searching message of all." " And then?" asked Mr. Austin. " Then came your sermon on our Father's love ; and then came his love itself, and all the rest." All the rest was not told or required ; but enough was elicited to show the quality of Christian life with which they were dealing. Lucy was surprised at the freedom with which she found herself speaking of these things before such a company. She was still more surprised to find that she had said all that was desired. The hard questions which she had expected were not propounded. Her knowledge of theology was not investigated. The dreaded "examination" proved to be a pleasant conference of friends upon matters of common interest. Finding that nothing more was expected of her, she rose to go. Most of the Committee rose also ; and several of those whom she knew best came about her, with pleasant greetings and words of gratification. rvcoxsciors EVAS<;I-:LISM. 313 The doctor presently drew her aside and said, "The Committee will have some confidential business, Lu ; will you retire to the library for a few moments?" Mr. Austin heard the suggestion, and wondered at the designation of the library. Lucy went there at once, closing the door behind her as she entered. The next instant she uttered an exclamation of surprise. There sat, in the familiar old rusty, dirt-brown suit, with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands, the awkward figure of Lezer Martin ! At the sound of her voice he lifted his head, gath- ered his gaunt legs under him, and rose to his feet. A moisture which might have been perspiration was visi- ble upon his leathery cheeks. He took the hand she offered him and stood pumping it up and down, unable to speak. "Mr. Martin," said Lucy, making no attempt to abridge the exercise which seemed such a relief to him, " I owe very much to you. I did not suppose I was making the acknowledgment in your hearing, but I could not do less than make it, and there is not a word to take back." " Wall," said he in a broken voice, gradually relax- ing the violence of the pumping, "that beats my time ! " He relinquished her hand. " You were surprised then? " " Land ! it jest got clean away with me I" 314 THE BOCKANOCK STAGE. Dialect and slang were no affectation with him, but a sort of mother-tongue, used with the utmost uncon- sciousness. Lucy, refined as she was, found his speech neither shocking nor ludicrous, but only in- tensely expressive. " Why should not you be an evangelist or a prophet, as well as another? " she asked. " Wall," he answered, " I believe the Scriptur' does tell about some that preaches the gospel to others and is themselves a castaway." "You surely don't mean to apply that to yourself?" " That 's just about the size of it." " You a castaway? " "That's what's the matter." " You shall not say such a thing, or think of it a sensible, well-brought-up man like you ! Have you no heart then? I know you have one, and a warm one. How can you shut out of it the best Friend you have in the world ? " The doctor had no talk with Lezer that night about horses, or upon any other subject. At a late hour Lucy brought him the stage driver's excuses, which he accepted with entire satisfaction. " You think it strange, Lu," he said, " that I should contrive to have him hear what you said to-night, and then send you to him ? " " I did wonder at it, though I am very glad of it S EVANGELISM. 315 now. What reason had you to think he would be interested in my religious history?" " He told me something of your first conversation, and has recurred to it several times since. ' Has Miss Darlin' took a stand yit?' he would say. When Jie found that you were going to join the church, he \va- as delighted as if he were your own father. ' I knowed,' said he, ' she wa'u't fur from the kingdom of heaven.' " " I think the same might be said of him, Tom, don't you? " 11 We never talked about that. He's a big-souled fellow, and would take on a strong type of religious character, if any." " I want Mr. Austin to see him, and I shall ask him to. Lexer has great respect for him." " So has everybody of sense or character." " Oh, Tom ! why must Mr. Austin be away on com- munion Sabbath? " ' It is necessary to have an ordained minister." Why necessary? " "In our denomination it is thought improper for any unordained person to administer the sacraments. M r. Austin himself feels so." " Then why don't he obtain ordination?" " That is his wish and ours. "We shall call .a coun- cil for that purpose in a few weeks." 316 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. u Before the next communion? The next after this, I mean." " Probably." Lucy made no response, but bade the doctor good night. The next day she surprised Mr. Austin by announcing that she had decided to wait a few weeks before joining the church. Had her views changed so suddenly ? No. Had she discovered anything to stum- ble her in the creed or the covenant of the church? No. Had any member given her offense? No. She begged him not to ask her reason, but to acquiesce in her decision. He replied that it was not a question of his acquiescence, but of her conscientious judgment, in which he had implicit confidence. u I don't know why I need hesitate to explain to you, Mr. Austin," she finally said. " I want you to receive me to the church. You have been my teacher from the first; and I cannot bear that any other hands should baptize me, or any other voice pronounce the vows that I am to take upon me. Let me wait till you are ordained please do ! " Mr. Austin was deeply moved by this appeal. " Miss Darling," he said, " it would be a greater pleas- ure to me than you can imagine to be permitted to wel- come you into the church. I have thought much about it, and have discussed with myself this very plan of having you wait till I was qualified to officiate." UNCONSCIOUS EVANGELISM. 317 "Oh, I am very glad! I did not suppose you would care." " I care a great deal, Miss Darling; but " " Let us have no ' buts ' ; the thing is settled." " I cannot think it right to settle it in that way." " O Mr. Austin ! " " No. You are to perform a high and sacred act. the public recognition of your adoption as a child of the King." "I am just as much the King's daughter now as I shall be then. That does not depend upon- the service or the time when it is performed." "No; but to make the service or the time of it depend upon the one who officiates at it is to give the chief importance to the King's servant, instead of to the King." " Yes, were he a servant merely, but he is not. If I am the King's daughter, are not you his son ? And do you think the King would chide his daughter because she would have the prince, her brother, present at her coronation? " They said these things to each other as unreservedly and as innocently as children. That a sentimental construction could be put upon their words by the most imaginative mind did not occur to them. Having lived under the same roof, seeing each other many times each day, finding much of common interest to 318 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. speak of, and each of them understanding at the out- set that the affections of the other were already fixed for life, their intercourse, since his first shyness and awkwardness wore off, had been singularly free. The relation of brother and sister, to which Lucy referred, began to have more than a nominal existence between them. The passion of his life was to unfold the highest of all truth to the human mind, and to help and persuade others to receive it. She was passing through that great spiritual revolution where she was intensely eager for spiritual light, and ready to wel- come and follow it. She never tired of hearing, or he of talking, of the wonderful things concerning the new world into which she was emerging. He showed remarkable aptness in understanding her and giving her just the aid she needed ; she was quick to appre- hend his meaning and ready to be instructed. It is small wonder that under such conditions their acquaintance advanced so rapidly, and that they had already developed a quality of friendship possible only between pure and sympathetic minds meeting habitually on the highest plane of thought. Nor was Lucy the only one spiritually benefited by this intercourse. While he had a more complete mas- tery of the subjects discussed, and greater readi- iness in stating and enforcing his views, she often excelled him in clearness of insight and always in ff.vco.VM 'mi r& /: i '. i .v i : KL ISM. 319 fervor of religious feeling. He fell, therefore, into the way of discussing with her beforehand the themes of his sermons and the details of parish work, and sometimes his own spiritual moods and musings. Little by little she became a part of his life. Some- thing of her was wrought into all that he did. He was indebted to her for many a valuable suggestion, for occasional salutary criticism, and for unfailing sympathy and encouragement. Lucy never forgot the vicarious character which she had assumed. " That Eastern girl," whom she had from the first associated with him, was always present to her thought when he was present to her sight. And as she formed a higher and higher opinion of his character, her conception of his betrothed rose in proportion. Surely it could be only some one very lovely and very good who could possess and fill such a heart as his. Between Lucy and the minister, however, intimate as they were upon certain subjects, there had never passed a word upon this. She wished that he would sometimes speak of it. He must be often thinking of the far-off friend ; why should she be a forbidden topic? Did he really care for her as a man ought for the one who was to share his life? If not, how dreadful it was ! One day Lucy ventured a suggestion that was likely 320 THE ROCKAXOCK STAGE. to call forth some word about the mysterious maiden. He seemed worn. A weary look was in his face and his lameness was visibly increased. Lucy expostu- lated with him about his recklessness concerning his own health. " Even if you will not be prudent for your own sake," she said, her voice trembling a little and her cheeks flushing a good deal at the boldness of her speech, " have you not a stronger motive? Is there not some one whom you care more for than for your- self, and who cares more for you than all the world ? Will you not spare yourself for her sake?" He sat a moment looking into the air, as if her words had called before him some pleasant dream ; then the weariness came back to his face, and he replied : " A man must either be very much in love with himself, or very poor in friends, if there were none whose wishes and well-being were dearer to him than his own." Lucy did not like the answer at all. How could he allude to the strongest attachments of life in these general terms ? Either he did not love the girl as he ought, or she was not worth loving, or he regarded Lucy's reference to her as an impropriety. The first two suppositions seemed incredible, and she adopted the third. It hurt her sorely, however, and she could not help resenting it. She had spoken out of the UNCOXSC10US EVANGELISM. 321 sincerest regard for his welfare and that of the absent friend, and he had as good as told her she was impertinent ! " I will engage not to offend you with any more inquiries in that direction, sir," she said mentally. CHAPTER XXIV. A REVIVAL OF CHIVALRY. progress of Mr. MacAllan's affairs were duly -*- reported to his lawyer relative at No. 43, and called forth from him the heartiest congratulations, though not without a word of caution against over- coufklence and recklessness. "Take care, my boy," wrote Mr. Pack, "you may spoil it all yet by an im- prudent step. Don't risk anything. Don't take things for granted." He affected to make light of the hunting incident. " I laughed heartily," said he, "over your encounter with a country justice ! Justice, indeed ! I know well the character of such tribunals. There is no place on earth where such a burlesque upon justice is to be met with. But the best joke of all was that forfeiture dodge. Why, there is no such provision in the Wisconsin law ! The newspaper clipping by which you allowed yourself to be beaten out of your coat and fifty dollars must have been taken from a paper printed in some other State, or possibly in Canada or England. But it makes no difference. It was the best thing that ever happened to you. Made A REVIVAL OF CHIVALRY. a hero of you at once, don't "you see? The elder t-ays he could n't have contrived it better himself." To Mr. MacAllan's surprise, his withdrawal from the Ottway business was not opposed by Mr. Pack. " You are undoubtedly right," wrote the lawyer. " You could not continue openly to act in the matter without sacrificing your interests, and in fact ours too. So be it. Give out that you have cut us for good and all, and denounce us as swindlers, land jumpers, and all the rest of it. Don't be afraid of Lulling our feelings. We have n't any. In this way you will clear your own character and put yourself in just the position to help us on the sly. We will still depend on you as a confidential agent ; you will get your commissions, keep on the right side of Uncle - Jacob, tiirow dust in the eyes of your fellow saints in Kockby, win the approbation of my lady, and avenge yourself on the rascals that fleeced you. The elder and I have talked the matter over, and he entirely approves this plan. I may add that I could n't possi- bly manage Uncle Jacob on any other; and you know !1 as I do that he's your only hope. What do you say ?" Mr. Mac-Allan's courage for wrongdoing was always toned up and his conscience toiu-d down by Pack's letters. lie replied that the plan suited him to a dot, and that they might depend on him for secret service 324 THE KOCKAXOCK STAGE. and for public abuse. Thenceforward Nat Jennings became the ostensible representative of Mr. Krauntz's interests in the Ottway lands. He and Mr. MacAllan ceased to recognize each other on the street, and made pretense of mutual detestation. Nat's friends in- formed him that MacAllan was saying hard things about him and his employers. Mr. MacAllan's friends warned him that Jennings was muttering dark threats against him. The effect of this little farce upon the Rockby pub- lic was not all that might have been expected, but inured on the whole to Mr. MacAllan's advantage. Some, indeed, were reminded of familiar adages about glass houses, rogues catching rogues, pots call- ing kettles black, and other such items of proverbial philosophy. But the credulous were confirmed in their previous charitable opinions, and the generous in their friendly defense of the whiskered hero. Lucy regarded her view of the case as demonstrated beyond question, and triumphantly asked the male members of the family what they thought now. But they maintained an exasperating incredulity. The minister was gravely silent ; the doctor was boister- ously jocose. She and the major were alone when she challenged his opinion upon this new evidence of Mr. MacAllan's probity. But he only repeated his former remark that Mack was a sly one. A REVIVAL OF CHIVALRY. 325 It was almost too much for Lucy to bear, and she and her guardian came nearer to an actual quarrel than they had ever done before. She was angry with him for what she looked upon as perverse and un- founded prejudice, and still more for the sort of amused pity with which he seemed to regard her credulity. He was seriously troubled to see her ready to compromise her own position by her association with this sleek villain, and deeply pained that such a fellow should come between him and his ward. There was pretty plain speech on both sides, and some sharp word thrusts were given and received. But it could not last. They were too fond of each other to quarrel. Lucy's anger soon changed to an equally passionate grief, at the sight of whose tears the major sprang to his feet in unutterable dismay. She was not one of the crying sort. Since her child- hood passed, he had seldom seen her in tears, and never before through his own fault. " My poor girl ! " he exclaimed, " have I made you cry? \Vhat an old brute I am ! " The distance by which her new-grown womanhood had held them asunder the delicate veil of maiden decorum that the years had woven about her van- ished in a moment. She was before him again as a grieved child, his charge and darling. He soothed and pitied her, calling her pet names, and denouncing 326 THE HOCKANOCK STAGE. himself as an idiot and a ruffian, till she looked up laughing in his face, stopped his mouth with her hand, and told him that his little finger was worth a whole regiment of MacAllans. An uneven step in the hall, approaching the open door of the parlor where they sat, did not in the least disturb this scene. Lucy had risen to her feet and stood again before her guardian, a blushing, saucy woman, when a confused, " Oh, I beg your pardon ! " was spoken behiud her. Mr. Austin had heard voices in the parlor, but, suspecting nothing of a private nature, had entered without hesitation, and coming from a lighter into a darker room, had taken two or three steps towards the speakers before discovering the situation. Stu- pefied for an instant by the sudden surprise, and in- capable, through his infirmity, of a nimble retreat, he had seen the traces of recent emotion and the signs of reconciliation, and had heard the impassioned compliment to the major's little finger. Of course there could now be no doubt in his mind concerning the relation of these two to each other. The major looked a trifle confused, not to say sheep- ish, as he would have done had he been caught in any other emotional act whatever. But Lucy betrayed no signs of annoyance. She did not do things that she was liable to be ashamed of. A EEVIVAL OF CHZVALliY. 327 " We have hud a dreadful time, the major and I!" she said with a rueful look at the discomfited guar- dian ; "a regular lovers' quarrel, Mr. Austin, and all about well, no matter now. We've made up again, and I 've forgiven him everything." She went gayly away, touching with the tips of her fingers certain parts of her brown braids as if doubt- ful whether all was as secure there as usual. " Austin," said the major, when she was out of hearing, "that's the most ingenuous, large-hearted, sweet-natured girl that ever lived." " I entirely agree with you," responded the min- ister ; "you are certainly to be congratulated, Major Gibson." "I? I haven't done it. She don't owe anything to me. She has gained all her good qualities in spite of me." " She would not admit that, sir, I am sure." "I tell you what she would admit, Austin what she does admit, and I admit it too ; she owes a great deal to you. She says so, and I know it. You've done her good." " I should be very glad to think so." "Well, it is so. I used to think she was good enough as she was, and I had an idea that religion would spoil her ; but it don't, not your sort. It seems to bring out her character brightens up everything sweetens up everything you know what I mean." 328 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. "Yes, sir." "She's happier, too, I can see that, though she always was pretty happy." "I trust her happiness will prove lasting." He came near adding, "when it is entirely in your keeping." " It shall not be destroyed by anything that I can prevent," said the major with a scowl. Mr. Austin rose to go. " Sit down," said the major, "I want to ask you a question." " Certainly." "If you don't think it's a fair question, or would rather not answer it, say so." " That 's fair, anyway." " What do you think of this MacAllan fellow? " "You intimate your own opinion by your way of putting the question." " I don't take any stock in him." " Many good people do." "JVIore don't. I don't, and you don't, and the doc- tor does n't ; Lucy does." "That is creditable to them both." "How so?" "It is creditable to him that he can win the confi- dence of such a woman ; and it is creditable to her that she is more willing to believe good than evil of a man under a cloud." A EEVIVAL OF CHIVALRY. 329 " He has completely bamboozled her, but he won't me. I 'm going to know the bottom facts in this busi- ness, and before I 'in much older, too." He inquired no further for Mr. Austin's opinion, but shook hands with him in token of mutual under- standing. " I like you, Austin," said he, " and I trust you, and so does she." "Thank you, thank you," answered the minister, and limped away as Lucy reentered the room, bestow- ing upon them both a smile of impartial friendliness. She had come to propose to the major a plan which she had been meditating for the relief of some of the more unfortunate of the Ottway settlers, whose farms were about to be sold under mortgages held by Jacob Krauntz. The worldly-wise guardian demurred. She could not afford to tie up so much money. The set- tlers would never pay either principal or interest. She would simply put herself into Krauntz's place, and gain their hatred, as he had. But his reasoning went for nothing with her. Against all his worldly wisdom she set her pleading "I want to do' it," and carried her point, as usual. The only condition which he insisted upon was that Mr. Mac Allan should know nothing of it. To this she agreed, stipulating in her turn that her name should not appear in the business. It was a notable day among Mr. Krauutz's debtors 330 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. when this financial missionary visited their mortgaged homes and offered them the means of paying their debts in full, through new loans, on long time and at low rates of interest. But it is doubtful whether any one was made happier than the major himself. He encountered some suspicion at first, but the good offices of Deacon Lorimer removed all difficulties. The farms on which the wily Krauntz had made his loans were the most valuable in the tract. Yet he had contrived so to cloud the titles by claims which he himself had purchased for a song, that they were practically unsalable. Having done this his plan was to force a sale, and bid them in at his own price a mere fraction of their actual value. As the major studied the situation, and learned upon the ground some of the facts pertaining to this scheme, he became more ardent than Lucy in pursuit of their present enterprise. He not only carried out her plans in full, but did a little business on his own account. Finding a small farm for sale with a spe- cially insecure title, he arranged to buy it. " Now," said he to the deacon, " I am one of you, and will try a tilt with the pirates myself." It was strictly agreed, however, that for the present no use should be made of his name. Lucy received his report with delight, the chief source of which was her satisfaction at seeing him A REVIVAL OF CHIVALRY. 331 thoroughly interested in a work of practical useful- It seemed to her the promise of a new bond of union between them. She asked many questions, and tried hard to understand the complicated business, as he explained it to her. One thing, at least, was sim- ple and satisfactory the usurer's victims were to be delivered from his power. " It is a revival of chivalry," said Lucy. " A brave knight rides forth in metaphorical armor, to resist injustice, rectify wrongs. :md save the oppressed." Ami win the praises and affections of a fair lady," added the major. "Oh, no; praises and affections are guaranteed in advance, Sir Knight." " A baldheaded, rheumatic knight of sixty is not a very romantic champion, but there 's lots of fight in him, my dear." " And there 's unlimited admiration in me." " Resignation is first in order ; the knight and the fair lady must part to-morrow." " Part? To-morrow? How can that be? " " I must ride forth to the wars." " Oh ! metaphorically, you mean." ki Literally." " Tell me what you literally mean." " I am going to the land of the infidel and the enemy ; the castle of the three black giants ; the den of the thousand-headed dragon Chicago ! " 332 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. " Not to stay?" " Just for a short crusade, say three days or four." " I will say three, if it is left to me ; though I would not have our good cause sacrificed to my wishes." " What will you do in the mean time?" " Lock myself in my bower, spin, play lovesick music, spelled with a k, and wish for my lord's return." " I know something worth two of that." "What can it be?" " Come along with me." "Metaphorically?" "Literally." " You don't really mean it, major ! " cried Lucy with childish eagerness, dropping her mediaeval phrases in her excitement. "Oh, that would be delightful! Will you truly take me ? " "If it would give you pleasure." "I should enjoy it beyond everything. Three whole days I think on further reflection I would say four for the parks, and the bookstores, and a sail on the lake, and a sight of poor Grim, and unlimited shopping and ice cream, and a brave knight, all to myself, and " "And a dose of Miss Whortle's insipidity three times a day." A REVIVAL OF CHIVALRY. 333 " Do you pretend to forget, sir, that the Whortles are at Mackinack ? " "Indeed, now I think of it, I did hear something of the sort. What a desert the old Tremont will be ! Well, you and I will fetch it a rose or two. You '11 be ready for the eight o'clock stage ? " "Yes, sir; or the four o'clock one, if there were any. But let rne see. To-morrow is Tuesday. One, two, three, four." She counted the days on her fin- gers. " I must be back by Saturday at the farthest ; for next Sunday, you know " "I know. You shall be back without fail, my dear." A rustle of garments and a patter of feet went up the stair, and a ripple of song came down. CHAPTER XXV. A QUESTION OF HONOR. TT1HE scene which Mr. Austin had involuntarily -*- witnessed in the parlor settled his convictions upon more points than one. It removed the last vestige of doubt as to the relation of Lucy and the major. That they were affianced was as plain as da} 7 . It was also evident that they had had a quarrel con- cerning Mr. Mat-Allan, ending in Lucy's penitence and the renewal of her fealty to the major, in terms strongly uncomplimentary to Mr. MacAllan. The major's subsequent conversation with Mr. Austin, his declaration that MacAllan had "bamboozled" the un- suspecting girl, and his determination to "know the bottom facts " concerning him, showed that he did not consider her safe from the man's influence. Mr. Austin had no fear that Lucy would coquette with Mr. MacAllau, or break her word to the major on his account. But he believed her in great danger of compromising herself in the eyes of the public, if, indeed, she had not already done so. Her goodness of heart had led her to take the part of one whom she believed to be unfairly treated, and her guileless sim- plicity had prevented her suspecting the risks which 334 A QUESTION OF HONOR. 335 she was running in doing so. She had accepted atten- tions from Mr. MacAllan which society would never justify a betrothed woman in receiving from one not her intended husband. And her very conscientious- ness would lead her to repeat the offense. Moreover, Mr. Austin could not conceal from him- self the possibility that an agreeable, attractive man like MacAllan might awaken in her at length a feeling stronger thau pity. Then what? Either to keep her troth to the major, and give him her hand, while another possessed her heart ; or to cast him off for one who was utterly unworthy of her, and incapable of making her happy. "To break her word or break her heart!" said the minister bitterly. ''It is a terrible alternative, and must be averted. But how ? What can I do about it ? " What, indeed? Could he warn Lucy? It seemed an unwarrantable liberty, and would no doubt be resented as an insult by both herself and the major. Could he secure the interference of a friend? Mrs. Ashley, for instance? or Maggie Wauberton? This looked equally impossible. What warrant had he for meddling with the matter anyway? The major was the one to protect his own rights, and was perfectly competent to do so. Perhaps he had already made her promise to have nothing more to do with Mac Allan. OIH: thing, however, the minister resolved to do. 336 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. He would see that Mr. Mac-Allan was distinctly in- formed of Miss Darling's betrothal. If after that he continued his attentions, he would convict himself as a deliberate scoundrel. The opportunity was soon presented. The chorister made the usual weekly call upon the minister for the list of hymns for the coming Sabbath, and learning that Mr. Austin was in, went directly to his room. The subject of church music led naturally to that of the soprano singer, concerning whom the caller was even more eager to talk than the minister He had heard through Maggie of this sudden flight, and was much annoyed by it. " The visit must have been rather unpremeditated," he said ; " I met her yesterday, and she did not men- tion it." " She did not consult me about it either," remarked Mr. Austin dryly, " though I had not thought of being surprised at that." Mr. MacAllan gave him a look of amused contempt, as if to say, " Talking to you and talking to me are two very different things." "I understand," added the minister, "that the major was called to Chicago on business." "He needn't have dragged her along with him in this dog-day heat." "On the contrary, she was eager to go. I have never seen her show more pleasure at anything." A QUESTION OF HONOR. 337 Mr. MacAllan smiled incredulously. He did not believe that she could much enjoy anything away from him. " I have my own opinion about that," he said. "Of course being engaged" tk Engaged ! Who says they 're engaged?" " Why, I learned that the first time I ever saw them. I had it from friends who know them intimately." 44 They are no more engaged than we are ! " 44 I am glad to find that you think so, Mr. MacAllan ; but you are certainly mistaken. I have the most posi- tive proof of it, including the evidence of my own eyes and ears." " I could n't believe it upon any evidence." , 44 It is true, nevertheless." " What do you mean by saying you are glad I think to the contrary? " 41 1 mean that you have paid her attentions which no gentleman would offer to a lady whom he knew to be betrothed to another man." 44 1 have paid her no attentions which she has not accepted in a manner impossible to a woman like her, were she engaged." 44 Mr. MacAllan, let me be plain with you. She generously believed in you and took your part when a good many people thought ill of you. Don't miscon- strue her friendliness or requite it with treachery." Mr. MacAllau had in his temper a spark of tropical 338 THE ROCEANOCK STAGE. beat, and when angry was apt to speak imprudently. He was angry now. " I tell you," he said fiercely, stamping his foot and striking his fist upon his knee, " she is as good as engaged to me!" He regretted the words as soon as they were spoken, and was instantly sobered by fear of their consequences. "Mr. Austin," he said, returning to his customary suavity, "pardon my vehemence. It is not auger, but only emphasis. You are my pastor and Miss Darling's, and we may safely make you our confidant and counselor. You have been plain with me ; I will be frank with you. I love Miss Darling and have made no secret of my sentiments. She has met my advances with more than kindness. I need not recite in detail what has passed between us. It is not a formal engagement, but she understands me, and I understand her. Now tell me if you think her capa- ble of acting such a part when she was engaged to another man." " I believe her capable of acting a friendly and generous part toward a man in trouble ; and I believe a man in love with her capable of putting upon her innocent conduct a construction of which she never dreamed." " Well, I see no use in continuing the subject. We are not likely to agree about it." A QUESTION OF HONOR. 339 " I fear not." " Of course you will regard what I have said to you as strictly confidential." " I shall make no dishonorable use of it," said the minister with dignity. " You have no right to make any use of it what- ever," retorted Mat-Allan ; adding in a more concilia- tory tone, " You are, I know, a man of honor, and I trust you implicitly. Otherwise I should not have spoken so freely with you on a subject of this nature." " Do you mean to act like a man of honor toward Miss Darling and Major Gibson?" Mr. Mat-Allan drew himself up. " I have never given you or any other man occasion to question my sense of honor, sir." "If it were proved to you beyond doubt that she is engaged, what would your sense of honor require of you?" ' That I should do what w:is most for her happiness in the long run." Wliieh means, I suppose, that you would persuade her to break the engagement if you could." " It will be time enough to decide that point, Mr. Austin, when the proofs to which you refer are forthcoming." Mr. Austin w;is strongly inclined to produce them: the statements of Mrs. Transington ; the passages r*t 310 THE ItOCKAXOCK STAGE. affection between the major and his ward ; even the scene in the parlor. Why not? They had not been annoyed by its publicity ; and surely it must be re- garded as decisive. Yet of what avail would it be with a man infatuated and unscrupulous? He had declared that he would not be convinced ; and if he were, what reason was there for expecting him to desist from his purpose? Mr. MacAllan took the minister's silence as a sign of discomfiture, and improved the opportunity to with- draw. " Mr. Austin," said he in his blandest style, " I have trespassed too long upon your valuable time. You are my pastor and my friend. I know that what I have said to you in confidence will be safe in your keeping, and that you will act a friend's part toward me." "I shall do so," said the minister, "by opposing your present course to the full extent of my power." Mr. MacAllan was evidently startled at this, and would have renewed the argument with fresh earnest- ness, but the minister sternly cut him short. "It is idle to talk longer about it. You have declared your position, and I have declared rmne. We shall get no nearer together by discussion. Let it end where it is." There was nothing left Mr. MacAllan but to retire, which he did in the blackest ill- humor. "So we are enemies, Mr. Parson?" he muttered as he reached his A QUESTION OF HONOR. 311 own room. " Well and good. If you can stand it, I can." He was only annoyed that his hope of winning the minister's alliance had led him to commit himself so freely concerning the state of his affections. Other- wise he did not regret the interview. It had brought to his attention a matter which he ought to investi- gate. Was Lucy really engaged to her guardian? Very likely. She was fond of him, and had been wont to accede to his wishes, aud if he asked her to marry him, would probably consent. Nothing more natural. " But that was before she saw me," said Mac Allan, looking complacently at himself iu the mirror. " I came, 1 saw, I conquered. Then she found that she had a heart and that she had lost it. Poor major ! we must make it as easy for him as we can, but we can't break our two young hearts to spare one old one. He 's having his hist trip with her, and it will do him more harm than good. She will see the difference between his society and mine. This little separation will show her that she can't live without me. When she comes back she will be in just the mood to hear what I have to say to her. And I shall not be long in saying it either. This thing must be all settled and understood without delay. Then she will tell the major frankly how it stands ; and he will answer that he only wants her to be happy, and will release her 342 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. from her promise, and give her his blessing and an extra thousand dollars for her trousseau." This glimpse of the happy future was marred by no misgivings as to the propriety of the course proposed. The promise of an inexperienced girl to an old fellow who had taken advantage of her filial regard for him to beguile her into a marriage engagement had in Mr. Mac-Allan's eyes no sacredness whatever. He even persuaded himself that he was doing the major himself a kindness in preventing him from consummating so unsuitable a match. From the minister he feared nothing. On reflection he preferred to have his opposition. Lucy had been strongly influenced by this limping pietist. Now she would detest him ; for he not only opposed her lover, but denounced their most sacred affections as treachery and sin. Being on terras of declared hostility to the minister, Mr. MacAllan could, of course, no longer play the once convenient part of right-hand man. He would leave the choir at once. This would, he felt sure, annoy the minister, make a sensation in the congrega- tion, remind people of the value of his services, and make him more of a hero than ever in the eyes of Miss Darling. Perhaps she would resign also. Accordingly, Mr. Austin received through the mail the next day the following curt note : A QUESTION OF HONOR. 343 ROCKBY, September 16, 1871. RKV. DUDLEY AUSTIN : Sir, For obvious reasons it is no longer proper for me to retain a position in the church choir. I return herewith the list of hymns, for which I have no further use. Yours, etc., ALLAN MACALLAN. Mr. Austin read the note in the office, and turning it over, wrote with his pencil upon the buck : Mu. ALLAN MACALLAN : I>"ir." " Then let me remind you that you compared my little finger with a certain individual, in terms highly llattering to the little finger." "I remember that, but it was no extravagance." kv Would n't you like to recall the remark? " Nn. sir; not a word of it." " Well, I don't need to recall the naughty things I said that day, for I took them all back on the spot." kk Be careful not to say any more. I don't like things that have to be taken back. I know what your request is, though ; you need n't be so afraid to speak it." "What do you think it is?" 374 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. " You want me to renounce the acquaintance of the 'certain individual' referred to, and never speak to him again." " No, I don't, Lu. I only want you to be more guarded in your intercourse with him ; to accept no marked attentions from him, particularly in public." " I never have accepted marked attentions, because, for one reason, he has never offered them. You put a wrong interpretation upon things." " No, dear, I think not. So far as you are con- cerned, I accept your own statement of the case with- out question. In regard to him, I have means of information which you have not, and know his inten- tions thoroughly. But even if he were as innocent as you are in the matter, the public would not believe it, and does not. Your names are already associated in a way that I do not like." "The public" began Lucy with rising color and unsteady voice, but got no further. The parlor scene seemed likely to be repeated. " My dear girl ! " said the major in distress, " there is no need of feeling unhappy about it. You have lost no credit, and no harm has been done. But I thought you ought to know that there was need of caution. It is only my blundering way of getting at it that makes it seem so bad to } r ou." "I have been so happy!" said Lucy pathetically, " and now it is all spoiled ! " EAST WIND. 375 The major snt in helpless chagrin. He had tried his best to handle the matter delicately, but what a mess he had made of it ! He had been even more unskillful than he knew. What surer way could he have taken to render the girl susceptible to the atten- tions against which he was warning her, than by inter- preting them to her, dwelling upon the fascinating danger there was in them, and trying to bind her to avoid them? What course could he commend to her more certain to increase her suitor's ardor, or to heighten her interest in him? The uppermost feeling with her at this moment was that of mortification. She had never for an instant understood Mr. MacAllan's attentions to her to be anything more than friendly. He had been polite to her. She had found him agreeable. They had spent pleasant hours together. When she thought him ill- used by others, she had stood by him. That was all. She had given him no place in her esteem but that of a courteous acquaintance. She had never understood him to seek for more, and she did not now. But the possibility that she might have seemed, either to him or to others, to express a warmer regard, filled her with shame and anger. "I have broken my promise, major," she said. " I am as angry as I can be; but it is not with you. ] thank you sincerely for what you have bald, and will o76 THE HOCKANOCK STAGE. put it to good use. You shall have no further occa- sion to complain of roe. I will be as prudent as you wish." Her voice sounded strangely to him. It seemed to have lost its clearness and resonance. He attributed the change to suppressed emotion, and would have taken back his words, and called himself bad names x again. But they were already at the gate; the stage door opened and the doctor appeared, with jolly face and heart} 7 greeting, and what was quite as much to the purpose umbrellas. " Caught cold, eh?" he said, as Lucy responded to his salutation. " We must attend to that throat." Lucy affected to make light of the matter, but con- fessed to a slight soreness, which increased disagree- ably during the evening, not sufficiently, however, to prevent her welcoming Maggie most affectionately in her room, and chatting with her incessantly for an hour, while unpacking her trunk. The girls were pursuing an animated conversation, despite Lucy's flushed cheeks and husky voice, when Mr. Mac Allan was announced. "Please say," replied Lucy promptly, "that I am not well, and asked to be excused." She had composed the little speech beforehand, anticipating the call. The next morning her throat was worse. So was AN EAST HYA7>. 377 the weather. It was communion Sabbath. Mr. Austin had exchanged with a ministerial neighbor. who was to administer the sacrament, and Lucy was to have united with the church. But the doctor for- bade her leaving the house. Thus, after having yielded her personal feelings in the matter, and decided that it would not be right to allow them ta govern the performance of so holy a duty, she unex- pectedly found herself shut up to the very course which she had abandoned. She was alarmed at the great gladness which the necessity brought her. She dared not too readily accept it. Was the doctor sure that she might not go, well wrapped, and in a clo>e carriage, and stay at lca>t through the service of admission? Mr. Austin expected it, and would be disappointed. Her name had been publicly announced; people would think strange of her absence. But the doctor was inex- orable. It would be at the risk of her life, he said, and he would not hear of it. He would lock her up in the closet with the skeleton, and the bottled snakes, and the surgical instruments, if she proposed such a thing. So it was settled, and ( iod would let her have her wish, after all ! She went to her room and gave thanks, with tears of joy, for the blessed suffering which seemed to be sent expressly to reserve her for the administration of the ordinances at the hands of 378 THE ROCKAXOCK STAGE. her own pastor. "It was no sin then to wish it," she reflected, " and the service will always mean so much more to me ! " She was a little troubled, however, by certain feel- ings which possessed her during the day, and sorely feared that they were sinful. She was annoyed at seeing a stranger in Mr. Austin's seat at the table, and at knowing that he also supplanted him in the pulpit. She felt no regret at her inability to attend worship, and no interest in the service. Her thoughts followed the pastor to the strange pulpit in which he was ministering, and as the time of service came, she observed it with him. " Now," she said, " he is read- ing the hymn, now the Scripture lesson; now he is praying ; now he is beginning his sermon." She won- dered if this was the way in which the Eastern girl who loved him held spiritual fellowship with him in his work, following him thus with her thoughts and with the breath of silent prayer. The solitude of the day gave her space for reflection upon what her guardian had said to her at the close of their journey. She still thought his suspicions ground- less, but was resolved to act according to his wishes. It could do no harm, and would at least please him, which she cared far more for than for pleasing Mr. MacAllan. Yet, if it was true that she had the power to do Mr, MacAllan good, as he said, and she only, did AN EAST }]'L\D. 379 not that constitute a clear call of duty? Had she a right to neglect such an opportunity of influence? What if the fate of this man's soul were indeed in her hand.-? Lucy's absence from the choir was freely commented ii[;ou, and was by most persons ascribed to her sympa- thy with Mr. Mac-Allan. Not a very creditable reason, they thought, for leaving her post. But to refuse, for such a cause, to unite with the church, after her name had been propounded, and all! Did you ever? Well, it was pretty good proof that she never was converted. Those who chanced to hear the sore throat story smiled knowingly. Yes, sore throats are such a con- venience to singers, and cover such a multitude of sins ! Mr. MacAllan himself was in some doubt upon the subject, and knew not whether to he more pleased or displeased by her absence. Petty deception was such a second nature to him, that he would not have been in the least shocked to find even so conscientious a girl as Lucy resorting to it. He half suspected that the illness pleaded by her on the previous night, as a rea- son for not seeing him, was feigned for a purpose. But what purpose? To pique him, and make him feej her power over him? Or to enable her to comply with the wishes of those who would keep her from seeing him? He felt rather less sure of her, and rather more 380 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. fear of the major, since the Chicago journey. It seemed to him more and more likely that her guardian was a suitor for her hand, and more and more possible that he was an accepted suitor, as Mr. Austin claimed. At any rate, there was danger of trouble from the old fellow. He began to act a good deal like an opponent, if he were not a rival ; and, in the circumstances, one was about as bad as the other. As to this Austin, he had made an open declaration of hostilities, anyhow. On the whole, Mr. Mac-Allan was compelled to admit that the situation was serious, if not critical. He did not doubt the state of Lucy's feelings, or that he could win her if she was only let alone. But she would not be let alone. She had evidently been interfered with already. The major probably, the minister certainly, Dr. and Mrs. Ashley possibly, would oppose his suit. Could he win it in spite of them? He thought so, if he could get at her ; but they might prevent her seeing him. And if he should outwit them all, and persuade her to defy them, would not the major annul his will, and cut her off without a penny? And if he should do so, would Mr. Mac Allan wish to marry her ? Could he afford to do it? How would he settle his score with Krauntz ? How would he support his portionless wife ? She had a small income, to be sure, but not enough for two. Mr. MacAllan spent the afternoon of Sunday in AN EAST WIND. 381 studying the situation, and writing an elaborate state- ment of it to Mr. Pack. " Consult tbe elder without delay," he said, " and see if, between you, you cannot devise some help or counsel for me." At the very moment that he was thus crying to his gods for aid, Lucy herself knelt in prayer for him before her Lord. She commended to the divine love this soul that had professed a desire for light and peace. She entreated for him heavenly guidance, clearer knowledge of the truth, a firmer purpose for the right, deliverance from temptation, defense against the misjadgments and the uncharity of men. She asked wisdom for herself, that she might see all things clearly, that she might do all things discreetly, womanly, Christianly. At the time of evening service she again kept the hour with her pastor, and invoked blessing and power upon the message that he was speaking to men. The doctor looked in upon her now and then during the day, examined her throat, felt her pulse, and left some remedy or directions, but was well satisfied with her progress and predicted a rapid recovery. When Ileli-n came at bedtime to say good night and see that nothing was lacking, she found a very different face upon the pillow from that which had lain there on that night in May when Lucy called herself a pagan. The face was almost transfigured now. 4t O Helen ! " 382 THE ItOCKANOCK STAGE. she said, " I have had such a happy, happy day ! It has been the sweetest day of my life." Monday brought bright sunshine and soft, delicious air. It also brought Mr. Austin. Lucy met him with beaming face, and greeted him in a voice much more like her own. She was surprised at the intensity of her pleasure in meeting him, and made no effort to conceal it. Here was one whose friendship she might enjoy without fear of any misunderstanding. " I have missed you so much ! " she said artlessly, giving him her hand. " It seems a long time since I saw you." " It is pleasant to be missed," he replied, " and altogether a new sensation. It quite repays one for the trial of going away. But how hoarse you are ! What is that flannel for? "What has happened to you?" " Only a trifling cold, and getting better every minute. Yesterday I could not speak aloud." ' ' You went to church ? " " No ; the doctor would not let me so much as look out of doors. So you see you will have to receive me into the church, after all." His face glowed with pleasure. " It will be a very great privilege," he said. " If I could choose what my first official act should be after my ordination, that is what I would ask." " I think God chooses so, too." she said quietly. CHAFFER XXIX. MONDAYISHNESS. ri 1HE afternoon was so fine that Lucy was permitted *- to sit for an hour on the veranda. Mr. Austin found her there as he was going forth to make pastoral r:ills. She was warmly wrapped, and looked a little pale and weary, leaning back in her easy-chair, and turning, rather indifferently, the pages ot a magazine. She smiled as he approached her, and let the magazine fall into her lap. " How are you feeling?" he asked. 44 Rather lonesome, thank you," she said with an- other smile, the hue of which confirmed her words. " Helen has taken the children to the photographer's, and the major is having his afternoon nap. You do not believe in the decalogue, I see." "The decalogue? Why, certainly. What made you think I had turned heretic?" " I preferred to ascribe your violation of it to honest unbelief, rather than te deliberate disobedience." "Excuse me," he said, looking perplexed, "I am Mondayish to-day, which is Hebrew for stupid. I shall have to ask you to use very simple and literal 384 THE KOCKAXOCR STAGE. language, and to adapt yourself to the lowest mental capacity." He leaned upon his cane, relaxing the lame leg, and waited for her to explain herself. "Give me a literal definition of Moudayishness," she said. " Mondayishness is the physical, mental, and spiritual reaction which a clergyman suffers after his Sunday work. It varies all the way from a comfortable lan- guor to utter prostration and imbecility." "How severe is your present attack?" " Not violent for the average minister, but unusually so for me. A Sabbath in a strange pulpit is more fatiguing than two at home." "Are you equal to the effort of repeating the Fourth Commandment?" " I will try." He did so, and got smoothly on till she interrupted him. " You have omitted something." "What?" " The exception in the case of clergymen. They are not required to do all their work in six days, are they ? " "Ah ! I begin to understand you," he said, drawing up a camp-chair and seating himself before her. "Have you heard of a writing called the Gospel ac- cording to St. Matthew, in which it is written, ' The priests in the temple profane the sabbath, and are blameless ' ? " AIOXDA Yisnxf-ss. 385 "Yes, sir; and I have heard and seen a devout priest, an able expounder of both law and gospel, who recently declared, from the highest seat in the Rockby synagogue, that God had wrought the Sabbatic principles into the nature of man, into the animal economy, into inanimate things, into the constitution of the world ! " "Well ?" And that without the regular Sabbatic interval of rest, no mechanism, certainly no muscular or cerebral mechanism, could maintain its integrity." "Well ?" And that the man who works seven days in the week profanes not only the Sabbath, but the holiest of all temples, his own body and soul." " You quote well. Will you favor me with an application of this excellent doctrine?" " Willingly. The priest may blamelessly work on the Sabbath that others may be spiritually benetitcd. lie may not blamelessly work seven days in the week. Hence, my brethren " " Kvery clergyman should have a full day of rest every week," said Mr. Austin, finishing the sentence for her. " I acknowledge it, Miss Darling. Most ministers acknowledge it." " I wish sonic of them would more conscientiously practice it," she said earnestly. " Von have no 386 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. Sabbath. You allow yourself no real rest. Here you come wearily home after au exhausting day, every faculty jaded, every fiber relaxed, every look and motion expressing fatigue, and what do you do ? Sleep, like my dear, lazy guardian snoring up yonder? Read a novel, like good-for-nothing me? Swing idly in the hammock? Go fishing or shooting? Canter awav to O ., Banbury Cross and back? No; you sally forth to lacer- ate your sensibilities still more by contact with some- body else's distresses which you have just life enough to feel, and not relieve. There ! I suppose it is very pre- sumptuous in me to lecture you in this way; but there is no one else to do it. You must not be vexed with me." " I have not reached quite so imbecile a state as that yet. I deserve every word of your friendly rebuke, and not a whit of the kindness that prompts it. I cannot tell you how strange it seems to have any one care so much for my welfare. I am not used to it. I can't understand it. But you have suggested some rather on-Sabbatic occupations, have you not?" She was puzzled for a moment, both by the question and by the words that preceded it. Her response was to the question only: "I don't think they are un- Sabbatic. The Sabbath is for rest, for worship, and for spiritual culture. That is your own statement of its purpose, I think. We have the three elements MOXDA YISIIXKSS. 387 combined on Sunday. You have only two. "VVe have our rest in combination with religious service, and must harmonize them with each other. You take yours in connection with secular occupations and may make it secular also, though, in fact, I think it will be the holier to you the more completely it answers its holy purpose to repair the waste which your powers have undergone in Christian service and prepare vmi to serve again at the proper time." Mr. Au>tin looked at her with admiration and laid down his cane. "You are a capital reasoner," he said. "I don't see any way to escape your conclusions." " You may well assent to them," she answered. " They are simply corollaries from your own pul (lie- utterances. I don't claim them as original or as extempoiaiu'ous. Kver since your sermon on the Sabbath, I have studied a good deal upon its practical applications, particularly to ministers, and this is one result." The doctor had driven to the gate and came briskly up the walk. " Now, Tom," said Lucy, " you are just in time to shed the light of science upon our argument. Tell us what you think of Sunday from a medical point of view." "Just tliis," replied the doctor with a readiness which showed that he did not speak extemporaneously 388 THE KOCKANOCK STAGE. either; u if the Sabbath were stripped to-day of all Biblical or moral authority, I would contend for it on physiological grounds as strenuously as I would for sleep or nutrition." " Excepting of course for the doctors," Mr. Austin suggested dryly. " Preeminently for the doctors, I would rather say. It is not a question of professions, but of the waste and repair of a perishable organism. The man who runs his machine incessantly will wear it out, and a doctor sooner than most others because he runs it so much at night." " I notice that you are usually at church on Sun- day," said Mr. Austin. "I reduce my Sunday practice to a minimum, and my patients understand it. I keep no office hours on that day and do no business that can be postponed till Monday. The people who take Sunday to be sick in because they have nothing else to do, get little at- tention from me." " Yet there must often be cases which cannot be neglected." " Not so many as you might imagine. It is a trick of certain doctors to be driving away in some direction at a life-and-death pace, just as people are going to church. It 's an advertising dodge. Everybody says, ' What an immense practice ! Always driven at the MOXDAYISII.\ESS. 389 top of his speed, poor man ! ' The speed lasts as long as there are desirable spectators to be impressed by it, and then the ' poor man ' heads his blown nag for home. Later in the day he is called to visit nerv- ous people who were frightened into hysterics by im- agining that somebody was killed, and inquisitive people who are themselves dying of curiosity to know whose desperate extremity had summoned him." The doctor's listeners laughed. The description called to their remembrance the precipitous nights of a certain new physician of the town. " A doctor who habitually rushes to his work," he added. " may safely be set down as a good-for-nothing. For if it be assumed for dramatic effect, as it generally is, it proves him morally unfit to be trusted. If it be genu- ine, it shows that he lacks the repose and self-con- trol indispensable to success. A first-class physician rarely hurries." Hut about the Sunday practice," said Mr. Austin, returning to the point from which they had diverged. " There must be frequent calls upon you that need instant attention. I have often wondered how you continued to be so regularly at church." " It is not so diflictilt as you suppose," the doctor replied. l ' When one really tries to keep his Sunday in a Christian way, it is surprising to find how few there are that, cannot be postponed an hour or 390 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. two, and how few Sundays on which an ordinary prac- titioner cannot get a fair chance for rest and worship if he wants to." " It would seem," said Mr. Austin, " that physi- cians ought to appreciate the physiological argument for the Sabbath, if not the theological." " If they did," answered Dr. Ashley, " there would be fewer of them in premature graves and in lunatic ^asylums, and more to go on preying upon the credu- lous public. So, you see, what is their loss is the world's gain." " Do stop, Tom ! " cried Lucy " You frighten me by the honesty of these confessions. I don't know whether to fear incipient insanity for you, or to believe that you are growing too good to live." " Oh, I have only cited some of the more innocent tricks of the profession. In fact, so far as Sunday is concerned, the ministers are far worse than the doctors." " The ministers ! " exclaimed Lucy, looking mis- chievously at Mr. Austin, " you don't mean to charge them with Sabbath breaking ? " " They are the most incorrigible Sabbath breakers in the world." "What?" said Mr. Austin, " aren't we always at church, and don't we preach long sermons on the Fourth Commandment?" MOM) A IV.vy/.VA'.v.v. 391 " Ob, yes ! " the doctor retorted, " you thunder out the law at the rest of us, and then break it all to pieces and yourselves with it. You argue that man needs one day of rest every week, and then you work the whole seven, as if, forsooth, you supposed that clerical orders were a license for perpetual motion, or that they wrought a change in your organism a sort of holy indestructibility, or that God would perform a miracle to save you from the consequences of your disobedience. But he won't. The wages of sin is death, to the reverend sinner as surely as the com- monest scalawag of us all. You '11 never believe it, though. You '11 go on in a perpetual expenditure of vitality till it is all gone, and then call on us to save you from a richly deserved strait jacket or collin. Is that enough 'light of science' for one dose?" " You must have <|iieer labels for your doses," said Lucy, if you call that either science or light. It is neither; it is simply accusation, of which I had ad- ministered to Mr. Austin quite enough already. How shall a clergyman get his week-day Sabbath? that is the question. Come, now; you are accustomed to prex-ribr for ministers gratuitously, I believe." k ' Let him take it, as other people do their Sunday Sabbath, making a matter of (vn>eienee of it. Now here is Austin: what you need. Austin, is to let tip the strain under which you keep yourself. You need 392 THE EOCEAXOCK STAGE. to unbend. You need to play. And if you don't do it you are going to break down ; ruincl what I tell you." The doctor went to his office, whence he presently came again, and shaking his finger at the minister as he passed, drove away. Lucy looked very sober. "What do you decide to do?" she asked gently, " break down or " " For to-day, I will do anything you bid me." He rose and stood before her. "You are a good coun- selor," he said. " What do you advise?" " Do what will rest you more, and give you more pleasure than anything else in the world." ' I know what that will be," he said. He removed the camp-chair, brought an easy-chair and put it in its place, and again took his seat before her. " I cannot think of anything so pleasant or restful," he said, " as to stay here and talk with you." It was not flattery. It was not even an intentional compliment. Had it been either the one or the other, it would not have set her pale cheeks aflame as it did. She had heard plenty of both compliment and flattery, from both masculine and feminine admirers, and counted the one a sweet nothing and the other an insult. But here was something of a different quality an unstudied honesty of speech, from one whose good opinion she valued very highly, and setting a MONDAYJXUXESS. 393 value upon her such as she had never held in any other man's estimation. She felt the blood go, wave after wave, to her cheeks and temples, and the moisture gathering in her eyes. Usually she could parry an embarrassing speech with some playful repartee ; but wit, tact, and even voice failed her, and she actually turned her face aside like a bashful child. Mr. Austin feared that he had offended her, or that she was too weary to enjoy further conversation. " Pardon me," he said, " I took an unfair advantage of you. You are fatigued, and must not talk any more. I ought to have thought of that. You see ho\v bad the Mondayishness is, and how stupid and selfish it makes one." He readied for his cane and hat. Lucy quickly turned toward him, half raising herself in her chair, and extending her hand as if to detain him. Don't go! " she said with a look and voice that there was no disobeying. " Pray, don't go. I am not fatigued in the least, only a little weak and babush. You don't tire me. You rest me. I want to talk with you ; and I won't read you any more leetmvs, or set any more doctors upon you, if you will stay with me." He stayed, and led the conversation back to the Sunday question, whence it went of itself to the sub- ject of yesterday's service. Lucy was eager to hear about it, and made him repeat his tests to her, and 394 THE 110CKANOCK STAGE. tell her how his themes took hold of his own mincl, and how the congregation seemed to respond to them. "I felt the lack of a personal sympathy between us, such as pervades my home work," he said, " yet all day long the sense of some sustaining presence was with me, and it was very inspiring. I could not resist the impression that some good saint among them was praying for me." The telltale blushes were in Lucy's face again, but he did not guess their story. "Do you often have direct answers to your prayers?" she asked. " I believe that all true prayer is answered," he replied. "But you mean answers that I distinctly recognize as such. Yes, I think I do. Do not you?" " Oh, very, very often ! The most unmistakable answers, the most wonderful. Nothing is more real to me. Sometimes I feel as if I could ask for any- thing, and get it ! " What Mr. Austin said in reply she did not know. She had turned her face from him as she spoke, rest- ing her cheek against the soft plush of the chair back, and letting her eyes wander out across the garden. They suddenly fixed themselves upon some object, and dilated with the effort to see it more perfectly. The gable of Deacon "NVaubertou's cottage was in view. The blinds were closed, but behind them was distinctly outlined the figure of a man, while at a certain open- 395 ing between the slats the light was reflected from two glass disks or lenses. It was dillicult to aflirm very positively what tin- apparition was; but the hypoth- of a man witli a field glass would account for the phenomenon. It will be remembered that the occupant of the chamber iu that gable was the owner of a field glass, and had used it to watch the move- incuts of the Ashley household. Lucy had no doubt that the glass was now directed at her, and felt tin- scrutiny to be impertinent. She mentally contracted the owner of the glass with the man now witting before her. She tried to imagine this frank, open-hearted fellow watching his neighbors by stealth, and told herself that he was incapable of such an act. The major came down and drew his chair near Lucy's, and talked of her illness, of the ride in the rain which caused it, of the substitute singer of yes- terday, of the stranger who preached, of the thin congregation, composed chiefly of persons living at a distance, ami gave utterance to some of his ideas about church matters, as oracular and as wide of the truth as such men's notion.-, aiv apt to be. Helen and the children returned from the photog- rapher's and joined the group, reciting the little incidents of the afternoon, and giving to the most trifling commonplaces the interest of a fairy tale. 396 THE EOCKAXOCK STAGE. Thus the hour extended into two. But from time to time Lucy felt her eyes drawn toward the cottage gable, and always to see the same outline behind the blinds, and the same glittering disks peering through them. Helen noticed the look of annoyanoe on her sister's face. "We are tiring you, Lu," she said. "But don't look that way about it ! AVe will go away at once." " Take me with you, then, please," said Lucy. " I have outstayed my time long ago, and I believe I do feel rather uncomfortable." CHAPTER XXX. A SPARK OF TROPICAL HEAT. WHAT Mr. Mac-Allan saw with his field glass on that Monday afternoon did not increase his peace of mind. The glass, being an unusually good one, enabled him at that distance to distinguish every shade of expression on the faces of the speakers whom he was watching. He had seen Lucy take her place on the veranda, book in hand. He had seen the minis- ter present himself, apparently about to go abroad. He had marked the lighting up of her face at his approach, the look of expostulation, the evident effort to detain him, her gratification when he yielded. He had watched the play of feeling in each face, particu- larly Lucy's, as the long conversation went on ; the smiles, the blushes, the questioning glances, the earnest appeals, the occasional pm.-iveness, the in- cipient tears. Ik- had seen Mr. Austin rise to go, and noted the eagerness with which she.- sought to delay him, and tin- pleasure which she showed at his consenting. Nothing escaped the notice of this excel- lent glass. The Impossibility of hearing the conver- sation lent additional mystery to the looks and gestures 391 398 THE JIOCKANOCK STAGE. which accompanied it, and gave a fictitious significance to really meaningless things. Here was a pretty mess ! This canting parson, who had lectured him, MacAllan, upon his duty, and made such an ado about the sacred ness of Lucy's engage- ment, was himself alluring her toward its violation, and with good prospect of success ! He had evidently fascinated her already. Or had she fascinated him? It looked more like that. Did she not twice detain him with pathetic entreaties when he was about to leave her? And did he not seem like one under a spell that he fain would break, but could not? Per- haps he felt compunctions about his own engagement, and the Eastern girl's heart that he was about to break. But evidently he had passed the point where such con- siderations would much affect him. The field glass had followed the major's entrance most critically. How would she behave to him, after all this flirtation with the parson? She greeted him kindl} 7 and at once relapsed into her wonted propriety. She ceased her coquetry with the parson ; but not one touch of the tenderness she had shown him was evoked by her guardian. No blushes, no passionate glances, no incipient tears ! It was plain enough to Mr. MacAllan how matters stood. She was engaged to the major and was keeping up appearances with him, while carrying on this impudent flirtation with Austin. A * TAJIK OF TnOPfCAL HEAT. 399 "7s it a flirtation?" he asked himself. " What am I to think of her conduct toward me? If a woman ever showed regard for a man, she did for me. And now, when I almost had my hand on her, and she had shown so ranch fondness for me that I actually wished she would be more coy, so as to give a little zest to my suit, off she whisks to Chicago, without a word of her intention, leaving me to be bulldozed by this hypocrite. In four days she is back again, a new creature. Don't know me and never did. Declines to see me. Stays at home from church because Austin is not to preach. . very convenient cold. Gets just enough better to make sure of an uninterrupted two hours with him, and holds the fellow, in spite of himself, under the spell of her beauty and fascination, just as she has me ! The artful jade ! " That spark of tropical heat that Mr. MacAllan had within him became a conflagration, blazing and leap- ing through his veins in streams of fire. He strode up and down his room, stamping, swinging his fists about, and actually snorting in his rage like some furious wild beast. He raved and cursed with every breath. He denounced Lucy as a heartless flirt, and himself for ever having looked at her. lie denounced Pack and Krauntz and, most of all, that lying, invisible sneak, the elder. He denounced the absurd undertaking into which they had inveigled him, and 400 THE KOCh'AXOCK STAdE. which had brought him only shame and vexation. Never did it seem so hopeless, so insane, as now, though it had reduced him to beggary. Again he denounced himself for being sold by these shysters, for being duped by this coquette, and then for not seizing his opportunity and binding her to him by a promise, when he could so easily have done it. He cursed the major for turning Lucy against him, and the minister for outrivaling him in her fickle regard. He wished that he could murder them both, and rather thought he would. It was no more than they deserved. If they were challengeable, he would give them a chance to stand up and be shot at like men. But a gouty old imbecile of sixty and a limp- ing parson bah ! They should not escape his vengeance, however, though they were ten times worse disabled than they were. They had done him a wrong that had got to be atoned for ; and no age or cloth or infirmity should protect them. What ! would you spare a vicious cur because he was old and cross, or a snake because he was scotched ? Mr. MacAllan's transport of rage soon began to abate through sheer exhaustion. It was too violent to last. He tried hard to keep it longer going, for noth- ing annoys an angry man more than to find himself getting over his anger. But the fire burned lower and A SPARK OF TROPICAL HEAT. 401 lower, and do what be would, he could not rekindle it. Indeed, iutense passion of any sort was not natural to him. He was a born conspirator. Cunning and deceit, and hypocrisy and lying, and trickery and fraud and intrigue these were second nature to him, and they are correlated, not with outbreaking anger and deeds' of impulse, but with hate and slow, cold- blooded revenge. Mr. MacAllan was an excellent hater, and as vindictive as an Indian. He never for- got or forgave. The mood which succeeded the conflagration was therefore calmer and more dangerous. It was also more agreeable to himself. His anger had been a fiery torture ; hatred and anticipated vengeance brought a certain fierce pleasure. He could not sit down yet, but lie uncliiu-hed his hands and got them into his trousers pockets. The grimace of passion changed into the scowl of malice, and finally into the more hideous smile of hateful purpose. " I '11 show you," he muttered between his teeth, " the kind of man you 've waked up ! I '11 give you a taste of genuine old Maryland blood before I Ve done with you ! " His mind began to work more naturally. lie must plan a little; nay. a good deal an exercise always agreeable to him. He, became fairly tranquil. lie sat down. He got one hand out of his trousers and stroked his beard with it short, nervous strokes ut 402 THE ROCKAXOCK STAGE. first, but growing gradually longer and more caressing. He began to regain the mastery of himself, and felt much complacency thereat. He had been wronged, deeply, basely wronged, and it had upset him for a moment, but only for a moment. He was himself again now, and would arouse himself to meet the situation and to conquer his fate. First, here was Miss Darling. He had called her a heartless flirt. But of course he knew she was neither the one nor the other. She was only too artless, too impressible, too unsuspecting, and had been beguiled into a brief admiration for this cunning hypocrite. It would soon pass and she would return to her regard for the more eligible suitor. He had easily captivated her before, and would do so again, if he could get the chance. Once give him again the vantage he had lost, and lie would push things to a crisis with an impetu- osity which she could not resist. If this proved impossible, and she finally dared to reject him, then His brow darkened with a purpose that he did not utter. As to the major, nothing was to be gained as yet by hurting him or by angering him. Even if one wanted to spite him to the utmost, the surest way to do it was to steal his pretty bride right out of his fingers ! Were he driven to disinherit her, she would be hardly worth the stealing, at least to Mr. Allan MacAllau. " Un- A SPARK OF TROPICAL HEAT. 403 endowed beauty and good manners have a certain value," said this now composed philosopher, "but they would not answer my purpose. I can do better, and T intend to'." Concerning the minister, it was harder to keep one's temper, lie had evidently made all the mischief. He had filled the major's mind with suspicion. He had prejudiced Miss Darling against MacAllan. He had captivated her with his cant and his (lattery. He deserved no quarter and should have none. He was already openly hostile, and there was nothing to lose by attacking him. 4 ' What sort of attack? that is the question," said the- avenger. " I might shoot him on sight, and hang for it, but that would defeat my own purpoM! and give the victory to my enemies. Besides, hanging is, I suppose, unpleasant. I might insult and woiry him into attacking me, and kill him in self- defense. I might hire a Chicago plug-ugly to come out here and do him up quietly. Or I might yes, I '11 do that, anyway. I '11 make this town too hot to hold him ! He came here partly through my influence, and through my influence he shall go out again, though not as he came. I '11 give him a name that will blast him like a pestilence. I'll raise a howl around him that will drown his miserable cant forever. I'll turn his church against him till they hiss him out of his pulpit and slam the church door in his face. I '11 arouse the 404 THE ItOCKAXOCK STAGE. whole community against him, and set the very dogs upon him. When that is done, and he lias been hooted out of town, I will consider what further retri- bution I owe him. The plug-ugly dodge, or the shoot- ing on sight, will still be as available as ever, and % considerably less dangerous ! " Mr. MacAllan rose. The conflagration was break- ing out afresh. "One thing I swear," he muttered fiercely, with fist uplifted, " she shall never marry any man but me! I '11 kill her first ; and the man with her, whoever he is ! " In the letter to Pack, which he immediately wrote, he did not repeat this threat, or relate all his mishaps or misgivings. So much truthfulness at this time might alarm Krauntz and the elder, and bring on a crisis in his finances. He referred to the engagement as a matter of current rumor, but to the minister as an unmistakable and dangerous rival, who must some- how, by fair means or by foul, be speedily gotten out of the way. He did not propose the plug-ugly plan, or the shooting on sight, but did suggest that he began to fear that the minister was not all that he ought to be. " If I should find," wrote this conscientious man, " that my beloved pastor is a wolf in sheep's clothing, I should feel it my duty to warn his flock against him, dear as he is to me. Perhaps the elder can look up his record, and relieve my mind of these painful suspicions." .1 >7M/,'/f OF TEOl'lcAL III: AT. 405 Having despatched tliis letter, lie sought Mag-_::e Waubcrton Mini frightened ber with a request for a private interview. With fear and trembling she al- lowed him to conduct her into the best parlor and close the door after him. She had always stood in awe of him. His fine clothes, his grand manners, his air of superiority had impressed her from the first, and she had regarded him as some sort of demigod. Hut this proceeding was astounding. He seemed so agitated, too! What could it mean? 11 Mi-s Maggie," he began in a vehement fashion, 4k I hardly know how to say what I wi>h to you." Mercy! What inexpressible idea was he struggling with? " Language is so inadequate," he continued, " to express what the heart feels, what my heart feels at this moment." His heart? she thought; oh, what does he mean? I am sure," he went on, " you cannot be ignorant of the state of my affections, for they have been too ardent to be concealed." This seemed unmistakable. It could be nothing less than the preface to a declarai inn, ;md such a nice, well-turned preface, too ! " Indeed, Mr. MaeAllan," she said in charming confusion, " I knew you were friendly ; I did not suspect anything more." 406 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. " Ah, then," he answered fervently, " you did not suspect one millionth part of the truth." " O Mr. MacAllan ! " exclaimed Maggie, quite over- whelmed, " how extravagantly you speak ! " " Extravagant! " he responded. " It is impossible to exaggerate the charms of such a creature. I have seen a vast number of beautiful and fascinating women, and have seen men fall in adoration before them, but -never before has my heart been touched. Now at last I have found one who fulfills my fondest dream of what a perfect woman might be." Maggie sat speechless under this torrent of amorous ejaculations. She doubted whether she were not her- self in a dream. It seemed incredible that a sane man should seriously speak such words to her ; and something in her warned her that she had no right to appropriate them to herself. Was he insincere? Was he mocking her? Was he crazy? He did not stop. " No one knows so well as you," he said, " how well she deserves my regard, for you arc her most intimate friend ; and, by the same token, no one but you can do what is now needed to secure our happiness. I say our happiness, for I believe that hers is as absolutely at stake as my own. Indeed, that is my only excuse for asking your interference. I have no claim on you, but Miss Darling has. She loves and trusts you as a .1 N/M/.'/f OF TKOI'K-AL HEAT. 407 sister, and I know you will act a sister's part toward her iu this crisis." He had not half finished this sentence before Mag- gie caught his real meaning. The gratified surprise with which she had received his earlier declarations, and the perturbation, half incredulity and half alarm, into which they had thrown her, gave place to sensa- tions far less agreeable. The best parlor was one of those domestic dungeons reserved by careful house- wives for the preservation of things too good for use, and as dark as closed shutters and opaque curtains could make it. It was not too dark for Maggie as she listened to these sentimental effusions, no longer of doubtful application. Shame, vexation, resent- ment, esteem for the speaker, sympathy with him, love for Lucy, unselfish impulses, pangs of disappoint- ment, regrets for vanishing illusions, gratitude for the timely discovery of them these were some of the feelings that followed one another in painful tumult, and set their flaming signals in her face. Rut Mr. Mac-Allan was too much absorbed in his own schemes to pay any heed to her face, even had there been light enough to enable him to see its expression. lie had been, in a certain grand and < Hug way, very kind to Maggie. He had neglected no art and no opportunity to make a favorable impr.-sMon upon the family, especially upon her, and had .-u-.-eei d <1 408 THE XnCKAXt'- r than he had intended. His sole object was to secure her as his ally in his suit for the affections of her friend. He did not suspect how poor the contriv- ance was. or how awkwardly he had managed it. He now- made a direct appeal to Maggie for her mediation. He dilated upon the fervor of his affec- tion for Lucy, without whom he declared his inability t<> exist. He dwelt upon the happy hours of their intercourse, repeating, in the strictest confidence, many of the tender words which had been spoken, with some others which had never been spoken at all. He proved to Maggie conclusively that Lucy cared for him. and had virtually told him so. over and over. He did not hint a suspicion of any prior engagement or any change of feeling. He made not the remotest reference to the major or the minister. He merely said that some obstacle seemed suddenly to have arisen between Miss Darling and himself ; that he could not get access to her, and that the agony and suspense were killing him. Could not Maggie do something for them ? Could she not contrive a meeting for them in her own home ? Maggie looked rather sober and showed some mis- givings about the matter. She did not like contriv- ings. She did not like meddling with other people's affairs. Yet she gave a hesitant promise to do what p^e conld that was right. PARK or Ti;f>: I<-AI. HEAT. 409 Mr. M:icAl 1 her hand with a profusion of thanks, calling her a dear, unselfish girl, the second- best girl in the world, and declaring that it now rested with her to make or mar the happiness of two lives. She did not seem greatly impressed by his words, particularly by th past." Then he might hope to regain his l.isi position. But to act as if he never had a position, as if there were no dream and no past, that was in- tolerable. Once, to his great joy, he met her alone, just as she was entering the gate, and greeted her with irrepressi- ble cordiality. " Now," >aiUD. 419 " Show us how to use them, then," retorted the adage-monger, " if you understand it so much better than other people." " I don't say es I 'd use 'em at all. I druther have an ounce o' good, fresh, live sense, 'n a cartload o* yer old gabble." "Well, show up your sense, then. How do you account for smoke if not by fire ? " " Account fer smoke ! Whuddoo I care fer smoke? The fire 's what I wanter account fer ; that is, arter I 've put it out. When I see smoke a-pouriu' outer my shed, las' Jenooary, I did n't stan' round recitin' provvubs. I jest buckled to 'n' put it out ; 'n' then I went ter huntin' round fer the feller that sot it." " Do you think this is the work of an incendiary?" " I don't think nothin' about it ; I know it." "Perhaps you 're acquainted with him." "Perhaps I be, 'n' perhaps I a'n't; but I'll tell ye what I think : if I hed arms a quarter uv a mile long, I could put my hands onto him this miuit! that's what J think." "Why don't you do it then? " " Dunno but what I may yit." But notwithstanding Lezer's sturdy defense of the minister's reputation, and notwithstanding the unfal- tering loyalty of hosts of other friends, the wicked st >ry steadily gained credence, even among well-mean- 420 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. ing people. From time to time fresh particulars were added, as the scandal-loving mind seemed ready to receive them. At first the offenses charged had re- ferred only to the period of Mr. Austin's residence at the East. Next it was affirmed that they had been repeated at Chicago, both before and since his advent in Rockby. Twice or thrice he had made flying trips to that city, ostensibly on business or to visit friends. Now it was easy to see what friends and what busi- ness ! Finally, it was boldly declared that his course of wickedness had been continued even in Rockby, and by favor of his official position. Little of all this reached the ears of Lucy, and that little only of the vaguest character. If she had any acquaintances among those who were promulgating the scandal, there were none vulgar enough to insult her with its recital ; while those who composed the party of defense had no occasion to take her into their counsels. It was not a matter for a girl like her to deal with. When the first hint of some indefinite trouble connected with her pastor reached her, she flew to Helen for explanation. But she only learned that Mr. Austin had enemies, who were seeking to destroy his reputation by circulating vile lies about him. From these generalities, and from Helen's blaz- ing cheeks, and from the instinctive loathing which the words awakened in her, she knew that they meant something too evil for her to hear or think. A TIU'XDER CLOUD. 421 That night the soft, brown ferns in the carpet pattern on her chamber floor were strangely trodden ; not by the buoyant, girlish steps which they knew so well, but by feet that trampled them in anger, or dragged over them in weary sorrow, till miles on miles had been measured. " O God ! " she cried ; " that this awful blow should fall upon him, and that I cannot so much as speak to him, or make him one little sign of sympathy ! " She did not know that in a distant room he was even then meeting the first terrible shock of the trial. Dr. Ashley had frit that the revelation could not longer be delayed, and had performed his cruel task as kindly ami a-, -killfully as it could be done. What took place during the four hours which he spent in Mr. Austin's room he did not tell, even to Helen ; but he could not recall the interview without a shudder. Never had he seen a man in such agony. Never had he seen a great trial more heroically met. So soon as the first over- whelming shock of it was over, the brave fellow mas- tered himself and grappled with his fate. No lie should conquer him, he said, or destroy his usefulness. So far as it affected him personally he would meet it with such strength as God should give him. either to disarm his adversaries, or to bear the worst that they could do to him. Why should he wonder at such an attack? Had not slander been, time out of mind, the 422 TEE EOCKAXOCK STAGE. weapon of malice, and could he expect to escape its assault? "Was he better than saints and prophets, or greater than his Lord ? At midnight the two men parted. As they stood a moment clasping each other's hands, the doctor said, " Keep a brave heart, my dear fellow ; you may live to thank God for this trial." "I thank him for one of its fruits already," replied the minister, tightening his grasp upon the two hands that he held in his own. " It has shown me a quality of friendship that will make me richer all my life." "Your friends will not fail you," responded the doctor. " You may count on them for unlimited trust, and for any service within the bounds of possi- bility." " If I had only you, doctor, I should feel strong." " You have me ; you have every soul under this roof, and you have scores of houses full of friends as staunch and true as God ever made." " It is enough then," answered the minister; " all will be well." " And now," said the doctor in departing, "I have been playing surgeon with you, and have cut you to pieces and got you sewed together again after a fashion. I am going to prescribe for you and you must follow directions strictly. Will 3-011 do it?" " Yes, sir. What are they?" .1 T1IUM>KR <'LOri>. 423 " Read the Ninety-first Psalm, say your prayers, and go to bed ; promise me you will." " I will." " And go straightway to sleep, too. You will need t<> keep yourself in good lighting condition for a long time yet. Good uight." kt Good night and God bless you, dear friend." Mrs. Ashley had not yet closed her eyes. " Well? " she said as the doctor entered. " It was an awful piece of work, Helen," he said, dropping into a chair. Poor Tom! You always have to do the hard things. How did he bear it?" "Hear it! I've seen heroic physical endurance under the knife ; I never saw moral heroism till to- night. But I want you to go and see what is the matter with Lu. Her light is burning and I heard sounds in her room as I came by. I almost thought I heard moaning. Go and see, please." "There is no need of going, Tom. I know what it is, and it is something that you and I cannot mend. Poor child! let her alone." Mrs. Ashley related what had passed between her sistei and herself that evening. " If you had seen her face, Tom, you wouldn't wonder at her wakefulness or the moans, either. I could n't sleep myself, and she has more sensibility in a minute than I have in a year." 424 TIIE ROCKANOCK STAGE. " All the more, then, she ought to sleep. Do you go and make her go to bed as I have made Austin. Come, I '11 send her the same prescription I gave him." The doctor repeated it. " Take it to her, dear, there 's a good girl. Or must I go with it myself? " " You shall neither go nor persuade me to. I know her better than you, Tom, and I tell you she must be let alone. Your prescription is excellent for a man. Take it yourself." He did so. ( I1APTKK XXXII. TH K S IL V KR PITC II KK . WIIKX the chambermaid came to Lucy's room the next morning, >he started with an ex- cluiiKition of surprise. The bed was untouched, sav- ing that on its nearer edge an arch-shaped impression could lie faintly traced, as if two anus had rested there, with the hands tightly clasped. The space enclosed was indented and moist to the touch. " Ah, worra, worra ! " cried the girl, "whativer is the mainiu' o' this ! " Breakfast threatened to be an embarrassing occasion. Mrs. Ashley, with her usual faith in the trauquilixing influence of the physical senses, had made the table unusually attractive, with flowers and dainty furnish- ings, and the delicacies of the season. Yet she seemed to find it peculiarly diilicult to keep the ta I- It- talk going ; while the doctor made so obvious an effort to be voluble, that he was like to kill conversation through over-driving. Mr. Austin, never a ready talker, felt the general tendency to silence all the more sensibly because it referred to him. Yet he wore a look of repose and 485 426 THE ItOCKAXOCK STAGE. courage which some who watched his face were grati- fied to see. The major had not participated in the anxieties of the previous night, though aware of the cause of them, and holding views on the subject entirely com- plimentary to the minister. He had long ago ceased to regard Dudley Austin as a poky chap. But he detected the pokiness of the entire household this morning and was annoyed by it. And whether from its infectiousness, or from some other cause, he felt himself more than poky. He was oppressed with a languor which he could neither explain nor overcome. To escape attention he ate a few morsels, though with strong repugnance, wishing himself back in bed. Lucy was the last to appear at the table, and the least affected, apparently, by the prevailing depression. She was pale, very pale for her, and great purple lines were drawn under her eyes. Yet her face was radiant when she spoke, and strangely peaceful when in repose. Never had what Ned called the " light in- side" shone more luminously. There was no more lagging of conversation after her arrival. She praised the autumn weather, the asters and golden-rod on the table, the delicate rolls, the delicious grapes. She inquired of the doctor concerning a critical case he was attending, and bantered him about a technical term he employed on purpose to tease her. She THE SILVER PITCHER. 427 reminded the major of the drive they had planned to take together. She spoke with Mr. Austin of the book he had lent her, resuming the subject where they had left it yesterday, and even held him sharply in discussion over a point in controversy between them. She chatted with Ned about slingshots, and with Margie about dolls' tea parties. All this she did with no apparent effort, and without seeming to be con- scious of any occasion for effort, but as if merely yielding to a natural exuberance of spirits. When Mr. Austin returned to his room he found upon his table a slender little pitcher of silver, no bigger than one of his lingers, with a bunch of helio- trope and a spray of sinilax in it. The smilax was deftly drawn around the side of the pitcher, so as to hide with its leaves the monogram of the owner. Through the tiny handle was thrust a bit of folded paper, on which was written, " Satan hath desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat : but I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not." She had found a way to signal her sympathy to him, and to k.-ep watch with him in his trial, though her lips were sealed. As he bent over the purple blossom, something that was not dew dropped and glistened among its petals. He smoothed out the bit of paper, and laying it reverently between the leaves of his Bible, sat down 428 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. to his work. A faint perfume clung to his fingers as he wrote, and a sense, as of the ministry of angels, filled his heart with peace. Before he had fairly begun the next page of his unfinished sermon, the major called upon him, as he had frequently done of late. His calls were always welcome, though he had a genius for selecting the most inconvenient time for them, as unprofessional callers upon ministers are apt to do. At this moment Mr. Austin was especially glad to see him, and laid down his pen with alacrity. "This is a great pleasure," he said. "Take the easy-chair; I believe you have a liking for it." "If you don't mind," said the major, making his way toward the lounge, "I will lie down. There! What a lazy dog I am getting to be ! " he said with a sigh of weariness, stretching himself at full length. " I don't believe it," replied the minister. " You are not lazy ; you are unwell." "Draw your chair a little nearer, please," said the major; "I have something very particular to say to you." " Certainly," said the minister, seating himself before his visitor. "Austin," said the major, " I want to ask a favor of you." . "Thereby you would do me one," responded the minister. THE SILVER riTCUER. 429 "I want you to let me help you punish the scoun- drels that have put up this job on you." Mr. Austin colored. " That is very kind of you, sir," he said, " but at present we don't even know who they are." " But I mean to find out. I am on a scoundrel hunt myself, the biggest kind of one, and this will be right in my line. Besides, I should n't be surprised to find that the frauds I am on the track of and this infernal conspiracy against you come from the same shop." The minister looked keenly at his guest, but not like a man struck with a new idea. " I thank you for your interest in me," he said, " and for your kind wishes." He did not thank him for the confidence in his integrity implied by the proposition. He could not yet imagine any one who knew him believing the slander. 41 1 am interested in you," said the major, " but this is not a case which involves your interests alone." " No, sir. It involves the interests of the church and of religion. That is the worst aspect of tin- case to me." "I haven't thought so much about thai; and I don't believe a few lies are going to upset Christianity. But if hurting you is going to injure the cause, the best way to undo the injury is to vindicate you. Of 430 THE KOCKANOCK STAGE. course, remove the cause and you remove the effect. That 's good logic, I guess." " Experience does not always confirm it, though." " Well, that isn't the point. The point is that this thing involves other interests than yours. It-4nvolves the interests of your friends. It involves the interests of this family, some members of it especially, more than you know. It involves my interests more thau you begin to know." " You are most generous to say so, sir." " No, I 'm not ! It 's pure selfishness in me ; but I mean it all the same. I am a childless old man, and I have to revenge myself on my fate by playing daddy to other people's children. I 've been daddy to these two girls, especially to Lucy; and I've made up my mind to be daddy to you ! Your father is n't living?" " No, sir." u Nor your mother? " " No, sir." " Any big brothers? " " No, sir, nor little ones." " Well, then, I here and hereby constitute myself father and big brother to you ; do you hear? And if you don't obey me, I '11 thrash you till you do ! " " I have noticed your system of government over Miss Darling," said the minister, laughing, " and think it quite endurable." THE sii.vi:i; ///' ///:/,'. 431 " You need n't laugh," retorted the major. " I am entirely serious, and I expect you to be. I propose to see these liars put through, and you 've got to help me." " I hve no wish to revenge myself on them," said the minister, " but I shall be ghid to vindicate my character before the community, and prevent further injury to the cause of religion." "The best way to prevent further injury from a mad dog is to knock him on the head ! Don't you w:i>te any loving-kindness on these rapscallions; and don't h-l them ding mud all over you, or pull your church down about your ears. Just go for 'em ! You 've got backbone ; and you believe in a religion that 's got backbone in it. Now show it. Go for 'em, I >:iy. and I '11 back you for all I'm worth. I 've written to my lawyers about it already, and I am going iiicago to see them next week. They '11 know what to do, and you and I must follow their advice. Krrp your eyes open, and wherever you see a head, hit it ! " "That isn't exactly my mode of warfare," began the minister. " It is easily learned," replied the major, getting slowly upon his feet. " Never mind about your methods. Just obey orders. We '11 furnish the plan of the campaign." 432 THE HOCKAXOf.'h' The languor that had begun to oppress the major at the breakfast table grew worse during the day. His dinner was sent to his room, but returned uutasted. His supper was declined in advance. The doctor found him in bed with symptoms of fever. r "This is a pretty mess, Tom," said the major. " You must get me out of here before Monday. I 've got to go to Chicago." " I '11 do the best I can," said the doctor. But the night passed wearily, and the morning showed no improvement in the patient's condition. " What do you think about the Chicago trip, Tom? " he asked. " Better put it off a week or two." " Do you mean that I shall have to? " " I am afraid so." " Then I must send for Fisk. How soon can we get him here ? " " Is it necessary? " " Indispensably necessary. If I can't go to him inside of four days, he must come to me." " "Well, if he must come, we can send a despatch from Warnock in time for him to catch the evening train." " Send it, then, and put it plain and strong. Don't try to scrimp it. Write as fully as you would in a letter, and write it so that it will fetch him without THE SILVER PITCJIEIi. 433 fail, and send it by a trusty man with the fastest horse in town." "That means my man Pat, and the black mare. I '11 miarautee its arrival in \Varnock in forty-five min- utes ; and Pat can wait for the train, and bring the man back with him." The guaranty was kept, and long before the Rocka- nock stage had reached the first of what Lezer called old Grey's u thinkiu' spots," the black mare brought the lawyer to the door. He had news to tell, of the condition of the Ottway business, of (J rim's recent discoveries, and of the progress made in the preparation of the test case. The major acquainted him more fully with the mat- ter of the parish scandal, and wished him to take it vigorously in hand. There were long consultations on bu>iness more strictly personal, with tin- writing of Hindi fo<,l>cap, a witnessing of signatures, and the attendance, for a few moments, of Deacon Waiibertou in the capacity of a notary. The lawyer alno had interviews with Mr. Austin and with Lucy, both alone and in the presence of the major. He finished his work at a late hour, and departed by the morning stage, leaving many documentary and other mementoes of his visit behind him. The major's mind was now at rest, but his physical condition showed no improvement. The fever symp- 434 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. to ins were more marked. By neon the doctor thought it typhoid. By night he had become certain of it. " Send at once for a professional nurse," said the major. " I won't have you all wearing yourselves out over me." " "We will send for one when we need him," replied Helen, who had her own ideas about what was to be done. Mr. Austin immediately tendered his services, and begged so earnestly for permission to do something for the major that he could not be denied. His offer to attend the patient during the first half of every night was accepted, not without hesitation on their part, but greatly to his gratification and that of the major, who, always excepting Lucy, liked no one to be with him so well as the minister. The other half of the night was taken sometimes by the doctor and sometimes by Deacon Wauberton. The day was divided between Helen and Lucy. This new demand upon their thought and strength was rather a relief than a burden, after the intense strain to which their recent anxieties had subjected them. Upon Mr. Austin the effect was especially salutary. It drew him away from the contemplation of his own trials, and compelled him to take an interest in the welfare of another. But however he succeeded in forgetting himself, he THE SILVER PITCHER. 435 found that others did not forget him. The scandal still made its way, through the ingenious artifices of its in- ventors and abettors, and not less through the loquacity rtain excellent people, who were so exasperated by its meanness that they could not let it rest day or night, but hawked it up and dpwu the town, under the impression that they were vindicating its victim. Mr. Brown expressed his mind to Mr. Grey about the in- nuendoes of Mr. Cn-eii in conversation with Mr. White concerning the impudent assertions of Mr. Black. Miss Rose repeated indignantly to Miss Violet what her mother had heard Mrs. Buff whisper to Mrs. Lavender and Mrs. Palepink. And so they kept it ng- "Wall," said Lezer to a well-meaning defender of the pastor's reputation, " ef ye don't b'l'eve it jest keep savin' so, all over town. Talk to everybody ye meet about it. Paint it on one o' these here advertizing three-square transparuncies, with a candle inside, and carry it up 'n' down the streets, with a line in small print down ter the bottom sayin' it's a lie! Reminds me o' my Uncle Kodack. Ari< T IK- ;_rive up preachin' V went ter fannin', he carried his thealogicle idees right inter his business. Ther' was a little patch o'Canady thistles in one corner of his farm ; 'n' l.'ncle Rodack, he hated thorn thistles awful, 'cause they reminded him o' the cuss, y.-r sue. He hated 'em so bad, that he mowed 436 THE KOCKANOCK STAGE. 'em down, arter they 'd gone to seed, an' then he took V kicked 'em all over his farm, till they was jest knocked inter strings 'n' flinders. The next year they wa'n't a square yard o' that farm that had n't thistles onto it. Uncle Rodack said he never had no idee what an awful thing the cnss wnz. That wuz twenty-three year ago, 'n' he 's ben a-fightin' them air thistles ever sense, 'n' he ha'n't got a quarter on 'em out yit. He don't kick 'em no more, though. ' Lezer,' sez he ter me, ' never kick thistles 'round. It don't pay,' sez he. ' Kicks is jest what thistles thrives on. The longer ye kick 'em the more ther' is of 'em,' sez he." To Mr. Austin the stage driver's wisdom came in different garb, though quite as characteristic. " I heerd some bad news, this morning, elder," he said. " I am sorry to hear that," replied the minister. "Is it about any one I know?" " Oh, no ! you never see nor heerd tell on him. Not many people ever did. He wuz a young minister, down in C'ne'ticut, where I wuz brung up. One o' my schoolmates, he wuz, 'n' jest the best boy 't ever lived. Never cut up, John never did ; never whispered, nor whittled the desk, nor flung paper wads, nor nothin'. Allers had his lesson tiptop. Why, he wuz so good 'at, actilly, some days the master 'd forgit he wuz there! jest forgit him, an' seem ter look right through him without seein' him. Think o' that ! An' the THE SILVER PITCHER. 437 scholars \\ forgit him, too, an' step on him or run agin him. 'fore they noticed him ; an' then, stid o' rippin' at ye, or askiu' what ye meant, he'd beg yer pardon ! " " Quite angelic," said Mr. Austin, waiting atten- tively to hear the conclusion and the moral of this fable. ; - Wall," continued Lezer, " he got to be a minister ; an' he wuz that good, never savin' nothiu' to hurt folks' feelin's an' never preachin' no sermons 'at had sharp p'ints to 'em, an' never doin' nothiu' 'at folks could find fault with, that himeby it happened jes es it did in school. Folks forgot him ! Yer see there wa'u't nothin' about him to talk about. He had n't no p'ints, nor corners, nor nothin' ter git a-holt of, an' uo shape an' no color ter ketch yer eye ; an' they jes forgot him. They forgot ter go ter church, an' forgot ter pay his salary, an' finally his boardin'-house keeper forgot ter call him ter dinner! " Le/.er paused. ' What became of him? "asked Mr. Austin know- ing that the question was expected of him. Wall, here day 'fore yistdy lemmc see, must 'a' b'eu nigh on ter twenty years arter they'd forgot him some boys chased a chipmuck into an old. empty, tumbledown btiildin' and lo an' beliold tliere was pews an' pulpit an' orgin ; an' a moth-eaten carpet on tlie lloor ; and the plaster bangin' in tatters from the 438 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. ceilin' ; an' there, leaniu' over tbe cushi'n o' the pulpit, was a skellitim, with a suit of black cloze on ! " The solemn romancer paused again, shaking his head mys- teriously. " Is that all? " asked the minister politely. "It's the heft of it," replied Lezer, " but I might ez well tell the rest now I 'm about it. The hull town come runniu' together ; but they could n't give no ex- planation. Nobody rekkignized the skellitun an' no- body knowed what the old buildin' wuz. But the boy what chased the chipmuck heerd a little squeakin' in the skellituu's coat-tail pockit, and run his hand in. He drawed it back mighty quick, with three chipmucks a-hangin' by their business teeth to his fingers. Wall, arter they got the chipmucks all out, they found in the bottom o' the pockit a chawed-up yaller paper savin', in a tremblin' hand, 'n' all kinder blotted 'n' blurred, ' Oh, thet I hed n't 'a' been so harmless, so nootral, so transparently saraffick ! Oh. that I had early learned to rap people over the knuckles, to stir 'em up with a sharp stick, to make 'em mad, au' git 'era down on me ! Too late I diskuvver what a preshus boon enemies is. How blessed ter be abused an' lied about ! for then you know that you 've did somethin' to make yerself felt 'n' remembered.' They was some other words, but too much gnawed by chipmucks to be made out. an' then come his name. An' who should it be but my old THE SILVER PITCHER. 439 schoolfeller, John Toogood ? Poor John ! His own mother heel u't missed him, an' could n't jest rightly remember about him, but sed ther' did uster be some- thin' settin' round the house, an' gittin' in folks' way, an' she guessed that must 'a' been John.' " Wall, it 's be'n a dreffle sollurn lesson to me, an' it 's reely gi'n me a turn o' hypo. Folks don't lie enough about me. I a'n't abused as a real, live man oughter be. I 'm afraid I 'm sorter fadin' out, an' goiu' ter be forgot, like poor ole John, ferzino." Mr. Austin smiled knowingly at Lezer's parable, and bade him be of good cheer, as he was still visible to the naked eye, and had points enough to keep his friends from forgetting him. On his own part the minister did not regard persecution as prima facie evidence of virtue, but was grateful for the respect and sympathy which the stage driver had thus delicately expressed to him. Elsewhere he met more and more annoyance. Some people passed him without recognition ; some stared at him with ill-bred curiosity ; some gave him looks inten- tionally expressive of suspicion ; some embarrassed him by words of condolence ; some made painful ex- hibition of foheir own embarrassment in his presence. He came to dread any encounter with people, and would fain have shut himself up at home, but knew that that would be construed as a confession of guilt. Il\\ 440 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. he was ever going to preach again, he could not tell. He looked forward to the approaching Sabbath with unutterable terror. The Ashley home was a haven of peace. There, no word or look reminded him that a cloud was overhang- ing his bead. There was a little added kindness in the demeanor of the family toward him, but that was all ; and even that was apparently an unconscious change. One token only signaled to him the otherwise un- spoken sympathy. The silver pitcher came each day to his table, and always with fresh flowers, and a new verse for his comfort. On the second morning it held pansies, and the paper said, " Wait on the Lord: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart." On the next day there was a spray of scarlet begonias, and the message was, "Blessed is the man that en- dureth temptation : for when he is tried, he shall receive the crown of life." On the day after, there was a beautiful tea-rose, and the words, " He careth for you." And so on, day after day. He never asked who brought them, or exchanged a word with the giver concerning them ; but he gave devout thanks for them as for manna from heaven. CHAPTER XXXIII. TIDES IN THE AFFAIRS OF MEN. FOUR or five months of intrigue had not improved the already precarious morals of Mr. Allan Mac Allan. At first he had shrunk from certain grosser forms of dishonesty. Some of Pack's rascal- ities had really shocked him, and he had congratulated himself that he was not so shamefully depraved as this shyster. He lied no more than seemed necessary, and maintained at considerable sacrifice a specious compound of conceit and selfishness which he mistook for a sense of honor. But all that was over long ago. He now so far surpassed Pack in unscrupulousness that that virtuous man had felt obliged to rebuke him. He frankly ad- mitted to himself that there was nothing at which he would hesitate in carrying out his schemes, except too much danger of detection. He was surprised at the ease with which the scandal had been set going, but gloated over the success of his effort and the tortun: to which he was subjecting the parson. " Everything works beautifully," he wrote to Puck, " and we will soon be rid of him." 441 442 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. The major's illness also pleased him well, especially as it increased in violence. And when the second week of it was near its close, and the opinion was ex- pressed that the major would not live forty-eight hours, Mr. MacAllan could not eat or sleep for excitement, and sent bulletins to Chicago by every mail, giving the latest report of the sick man's condition, and even arranged with Pack the form of a cipher telegram to be sent in case of the lucky that is, fatal termi- nation of the fever. What Mr. MacAllan hoped, others feared. The family had adhered to the original determination not to relinquish the sick man for one hour to the care of strangers, always excepting the Waubertons, who were not reckoned as such. The task had been a tryiug one. Most of them already had exacting duties on hand. The doctor was unusually busy. Mrs. Ashley was full of motherly and housewifely cares. Mr. Austin, besides his parish work, was bearing a crush- ing burden of trial. Lucy surprised them all, both by her physical endur- ance and by her capacity. Overwhelmed at first by the discovery of the major's condition and danger, she sank down nerveless and bewildered. But when the first shock was over and she comprehended the demands which the emergency made upon her, she showed a fortitude, a devotion, and a power of adaptation truly TIDES IN THE AFFAIRS OF MEN. 443 wonderful. Besides her duties as watcher and nurse, during a good part of every day it devolved upon her to attend to the major's correspondence, not only while he was well enough to hear the letters read and to dictate roughly an occasional answer, but after it became impossible to bring the slightest item of busi- to his attention. Inquiries concerning property, applications for vacant rooms, complaints of tenants, remittances for rent or interest, bills for repairs, re- quests for benevolent contributions, notices of divi- dends or assessments, letters from relatives or from old army friends so the category ran, every mail adding to the list. Lucy struggled with the business as best she was able. Some problems she could solve by previous knowledge of the affair in question ; some yielded to her common sense ; upon some she sought the advice of others, commonly of Mr. Austin, whom she found herself consulting upon one matter or another more than once every day. The thirteenth day of the fever had passed a Saturdav in whose warm air the earth had lain dreaming, wrapped in the soft Indian summer ha/.e. It was the seventh of October. Mr. Austin Kept his watch until midnight, when the doctor drove and pushed him from the room, "(lo to bed. dear fellow," he said. " I will call you if any change occurs. Remember what you have to do to-morrow, or rather to-day, for it is Sunday already." 444 THE KOCKANOC.K STAGE. But the minister felt little enough like sleeping. Descending the stairs, he stepped out upon the veranda. The night was mild as a night in June, though the wind was rising briskly. The scent of the autumn leaves was in the air. A brave little tea-rose in the angle of the veranda was exhaling its thanks for the friendly shelter from the frosts. " Good morning ! " said a whisper out of the wood- bine shadows. " You, Miss Darling," he whispered back. "You should be resting long ago." "I am resting," she said. "The great sky rests me, and the sweet air, and the delicious darkness. But you you must not be here. You have to preach to-day, and you are so weary already ! You must rest ! Do please go ! " There was such pleading in the tone as strangely thrilled his heart, and yet strangely disinclined him to yield to the entreaty. In her earnestness she put her two hands upon his arm, as he had often seen her lay them coaxingly upon the major's. The last two weeks of common anxieties and weary watches at the same sick bed had drawn the family very near to one another, and Lucy hud learned to thank God that he had given her a brother. "I am resting," the brother now replied to her entreaty, quoting her own words to her. " If you can TIDES IX THE AFFAIRS OF MEN". 445 spare me a little of your sky and air and delicious darkness, let us enjoy them together." She took the arm he offered her. " Not here," she said, still whispering. " We must not walk upon the veranda, you know. Let us walk upon the lawn." " But your feet the grass." "There is no dew. I have been walking there already, till I fancied I heard a noise in the shrubbery and ran back to the house ; I am such a coward in the dark ! " They descended to the lawn, and avoiding the gravel paths, walked for some time slowly back and forth upon the soft velvet of the turf. They returned together to the sick room, where the doctor kept his solitary watch. He expressed no sur- prise at their unseasonable arrival, well knowing why they could not go to rest. Mrs. Ashley, also unable to sleep, came in presently, and the four watched the night out together. How slowly the hours went by ! How terrible the suspense, as morning drew near the awful ebb-tide of human life. The doctor sat with his fingers upon the pulse of the unconscious patient. Helen put her hand upon her husband's shoulder. "O Tom!" she said with a trembling voice, "I want Mr. Austin to pray." The doctor nodded cordial assent and covered his eyes with his disengaged hand. Helen and Lucy 446 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. knelt together, clinging to each other, and responding with sobs to the prayer whose low tones were broken again and again by the minister's own ^motions. It was a prayer of faith, faith in the Ordainer of human destiny ; faith in the immutability of his coun- sels ; faith in the beneficence of natural law ; faith in a wisdom to which no man might dictate ; faith, never- theless, in the supremacy of the Ruler over his own servant, nature, and his servant's servants, cause and force ; faith in prayer as a part of nature's own sys- tem, a divinely appointed cause and force; faith in faith's own reasonableness and transcendent power. In this atmosphere of prayer, the unconscious patient met the crisis of his disease, hovered for a time between life and death, and then, was it through prayer, as the sobbing sisters thought, or good nurs- ing, as the major afterward believed, or medical skill, as the neighbors supposed, or constitutional elasticity, as The Rockby Interview said, or a lucky chance, as Squire Mycopp called it, or an unlucky one, as Mr. MacAllau regarded it? to everybody's surprise, the major began slowly to improve. To Mr. Mac Allan it was more than a surprise. It , was a disappointment. It was an aggravation. It was an impertinence and an injustice. What did the old fellow want to get well for, when his death was so much more to be desired? Had he died, all difficulties TIDES IX THE AFFAIRS OF MEN. 447 t would have been solved. Lucy would have been an heiress ; there would have been no betrothal to bother al>out ; Austin would have been easily disposed of, nud a handsome courtier, already once in Miss Darling's favor, could have regained his position in a trice, and have married her at his pleasure. Now all was at sixes and sevens again ! But this was not Mr. MacAllan's only grievance. He could forgive the major for getting well, but how could he forgive the minister for his worse offenses? The field glass had been often in requisition of late, and had discovered unmistakable evidence that the minister was increasing in favor with the entire family, especially with Lucy. " And to see the meanness of the fellow," said Mr. MacAllan with virtuous indignation, " tak- ing advantage of the major's sickness to advance his own suit with the susceptible girl ! " Mr. MacAllan had been as unable to sleep as the others had been on the previous night. And as the field glass was not available after dark, and his view of the next house was limited, he stole down to the garden, and into the Ashley premises, where he could gain a view of the sick room windows, to watch for any omens, good or had, which might be discovered. The moon \\ as not yet up, and he was entirely concealed among the shrubbery. The coming of Lucy, whom he recognized by the 448 THE JIOCKANOCK STAGE. * light of the hall lamp when she emerged from the door, was a pleasant surprise. He fairly trembled with excitement as she walked up and down the lawn, and was on the point of speaking to her, when she turned and fled. Before Mr. Austin came the moon was up, and the sentinel, though compelled to conceal himself more carefully, was able to hear an interchange of mysterious whispers, to see the two figures in sus- picious proximity, and to follow them in their moonlight promenade. "A midnight meeting under the very windows of the room where her affianced husband lies dying ! " muttered MacAllan between his teeth. "That is a drop too much. And to think that the sneaking hypo- crite should have tried to bluff me from paying honor- able attentions to her in broad daylight ! I '11 never stand that ! I can't and I won't ! I '11 have his blood, if it costs me my neck ! I 'd kill him on the spot, and her with him, if there was n't too much at stake. Never mind, Reverend Sneak, another time will do for yon, and another fate for her ! We must wait and see first whether the old major is going to pass in his checks." The major showed no signs of such an intention. Throughout Sunday he continued to improve. He lay almost like one dead, but the fever had abated. " We ought to pray again," said Helen, " in thanksgiving for his escape." TIDES IN THE AFFAIRS OF MEN. 449 " You 'd better pray that be ma}' have no relapse ! " responded the doctor. As the twilight came on, Lucy sought the garden, and walked about among the trees, telling them how happy she was, and softly humming bits of song that were making melody in her heart. The church bells were ringing for the Sabbath evening service. " Next Sunday," she said to herself, ' k if the dear major con- tinues to improve, I can go to church ; and what thanksgivings I shall have to offer ! " Between the two gardens, Dr. Ashley's and Deacon Wauberton's, stood a group of plum trees, over whose barren, tangled tops a wild grape had run in its own luxuriant fashion, piling up masses of foliage, leaf lapping leaf the tiles of a living roof while from every branch long, slender sprays and graceful fes- toons swung in the wind. Under this natural arbor seats had been placed, and there the members of the two households often met, as on a sort of neutral ground. There Lucy sat down as the Sabbath twilight faded, and watched the stars, as they were lighted one by one, and mentally joined in the worship which she knew then to be in progress in a certain church whose spire she could see in the distance. Mr. Austin had told her his text, and what he meant to do with it. He had fallen into the way of talking over his sermons 450 THE KOCKANOCK STAGE. with her, and had more than once made hearty ac- knowledgment to her of helpful suggestions, though she insisted that she had only caught his own thought just a moment before he uttered it. She felt a peculiar sense of fellowship with his mind to-night, both from the clearer knowledge of him which the past two weeks had given her, and because she knew, better than he supposed, how his great trial weighed upon him, and what a martyrdom it was for him to look his congre- gation in the face. " Good evening, Miss Darling," said a pleasant voice behind her. Startled from her reverie by the sound, though she easily recognized its quality, she rose from her seat and returned the salutation pleasantly. " Good evening, Mr. Mac Allan. Do not laugh at my nervousness; it is a little worse than usual this evening, which is quite unnecessary." He could discover no change in her manner toward him ; no embarrassment. What a consummate co- quette ! How many shades deeper, he wondered, would these charming blushes be, if she knew that he had witnessed the midnight meeting on the lawn yonder only a few hours before? It was not his policy at this moment to remind her of it. "Pardon me for disturbing you," he said, "but I wanted to rejoice with you over Major Gibson's escape. I have been very anxious about him." TIDES T\ r THE AFFAIRS OF MEN. 451 He touched her at a sensitive point. "Oh! thank you, Mr. Mac-Allan, for your interest in him. There has been a terribly anxious time for us all, and it is not over yet." " But," pursued Mr. Mat-Allan, " I have been even more anxious about you, and am so still. You have h:id such an ordeal! And don't let me frighten you you are so tired ! I fear the reaction will make you sick." Again lie had touched her. How kind-hearted lie was ! How did ho, know that she was so tired? She had not confessed it, even to Maggie. Her blushes deepened as she said, " You are very kind to care; about it ; but I do not mean to be sick." " I hope not," he said fervently. She was con- vinced that he was all that she had thought him, and wished that the major could only think so, too. Her phni of making Mr. Mat-Allan her confidential adviser in the Ottway business revived. She could not discuss business affairs now, but upon the first suitable occa- sion she would consult him. Miss Darling," said he with a forlorn face and a heartbroken voice, "will you not tell me what it is that has destroyed your regard for me?" "Nothing Ins destroyed it, "she answered inno- cently, " or changed it in the least." lie sprang forward, sei/ed her by the hand, and bewail pouring forth impetuous word-. CHAPTER XXXIV. UNDER THE GRAPEVINE. THE maiden's hand was snatched from his grasp as from a viper's touch. m She was on her feet, shrinking back from him as far as the vines would possibly let her. Her blushes burned a glowing red, seven times deeper than ever he had seen or imagined them. " Mr. MacAllan ! What do you mean by address- ing such language to me ? " "More coquetry!" he thought, "and admirably well done. But it does n't go down with an old beau like me." Taking a step nearer to her, he said, " Do not trifle with me, Lucy. You know that you have given me unmistakable reason to believe that you care for me. You cannot deny that." She no longer blushed ; she was white with anger. " Deny it? " she repeated with contemptuous empha- sis. " I brand it as the meanest falsehood and insult ! Do you dare come here, sir, and tell me to my face that I have ever, by word or act, shown any regard for you beyond that of ordinary friendship? You 452 r\DER THE r,r,APi:vi\i:. 453 know it is false ! Stand aside, and let me pass ! I have talked too long with what I once mistook for a gentleman ! " He still believed her to be coquetting. lie had seen such things before, this old beau, though nothing quite so well acted. But he thought it better to try a new tack. Ik- sank upon the seat aqd covered his face with his hands. "Oh! oh! then it is all a divadful mistake ! I have boon blinded by my own ftvlings. I have judged the noble girl by myself. I believed what my heart so earnestly longed to have true. And now it is all a delusion, and I am spurned and hated because I could not resist the power of her beauty, the charm of her character. Oh, this is terri- ble ! terrible ! How can I bear it? " This was much better. Lucy began to relent. Let the man be what he might, he was in agony, and that appealed to her pity. He was suffering on her ac- count, and that touched her still more deeply. Per- hap* she had judged him too harshly. What had he dour? L"%vd her and mistaken her kindness for love. That was all. As to the first offense, if his regard really sincere and honorable, she should be grate- ful, not anirry. As to the second, perhaps she had not been sntliciently guarded. Perhaps she had un- consciou-ly jjven him reason to think as he did. Her conscience went over to the enemy. She ceased to blame him, and began to upbraid herself. 454 THE ROCKAXOCK STAGE. " Forgive me," she said at length, " I have been unjust to you. You have given me many proofs of your honor. I ought not to have forgotten them so quickly." " Hedging, eh? " said MaeAllan to himself. " Well, I don't object to that. This high tragedy is most too much for me." He uncovered his face and lifted his head. "Oh, how generous you are ! " he exclaimed. " If you want me to hate you, don't show me this noble gener- osity. It only makes me adore you." " I want ^either your hatred nor your adoration. But I want you distinctly and finally to understand the truth in regard to this unhappy business." " Let me make my statement first, then. I cannot endure to have you misunderstand me for another instant." She seated herself, still as far from him as possible. " Miss Darling," he began, " I hardly know where to commence, or bow to tell a coherent story. I have been an orphan from boyhood, and given to reverie and seclusion. I took no interest in society, and was Especially timid before women. But from the moment I stood by you in the Tremont House I have been a changed man. Your image has been with me night and day. I fled from the city to cure myself of what I believed to be a hopeless UXDER THE GRAPEVINE. 455 passion ; for I could not imagine you, with your beauty and brilliancy and social position, taking notice of poor me. But I bad barely established my- self here when you arrived. I resolved to fly again; but a spell was on me that I could not break. Then, in ways which seemed to me providential, I was thrown in your way, and our acquaintance began. I flattered myself that I could be content with your friendship merely. Every word of yours was so sweet to me, it was such rapture even to be in the atmosphere which you breathed, that I held your cold- est regard to be better than the warmest affections of any other. Then, still in providential ways, we were brought often together in the choir, in society, in our family relations, and so forth. And at last, to my unutterable delight, I thought I discovered signs of something more than friendship. I imagined that you enjoyed my society ; that it was a pleasure to you to talk and sing and ride with me. Again and again I tried to speak of my feelings ; but my courage failed me. You seemed so far above me, how could I aspire to your hand? If I could be the lowest menial in your service, I should be too greatly honored. All this while you were powerfully influencing my reli- gious convictions. I \vas losing my skepticism. I was drawn toward all that, was good. 1 even thought of joining the church. I saw that with you Christian faith and all good things were possible to inc. 456 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. "Then came the Ottway episode, and everything grew dark. Again it was you who came to me like a guardian angel, and brought me fresh hope. But others doubted me. The major did. So did Dr. and Mrs. Ashley, so did my revered pastor. All this I could endure so long as you encouraged me. But after your Chicago visit something seemed to shut down between us ; and then it was night with me. All good seemed to forsake me, I lost my faith again, and my interest in life. More than once I was almost desperate enough to end my own existence. Yet the faintest possible hope remained that you would be kind to me again. This alone kept me from despair. " This evening I was led to this place. You smiled and spoke to me as you used to. And when you told me in so many words that your regard for me was unchanged, I was intoxicated with pleasure, and in my impulsive, blundering way said what seemed to you offensive. But, O Miss Darling ! if you knew what a mad dream my love for you has been, you would pity me and forgive me." It was admirably spoken. Much of it had been carefully prepared, and often conned and rehearsed. Nevertheless it was well delivered, and the extempo- raneous passages, and the adaptation and modification of some of the finished periods, and the skillful blend- ing of the improvised with the memorized portions, UNDER THE GRAPEVINE. 457 were excellent. Lucy was really moved by it, and in certain effective passages could scarcely restrain her tears. " Mr. Mac-Allan," she said, " it is I who need for- giveness. As to pity, it is hardly a fitting sentiment between friends, and you and I are friends, and I hope may long continue so. I thank you for your regard ; though the extravagant terms in which you express it prove that you conceive of me as very different from what I am, and, therefore, that, could I answer y.ou as you wish to-day, I should only be preparing for you a hitter disappointment. But I cannot answer so. I have respected you, believed in you, enjoyed your society. That has been the nature and extent of my regard. As I have said, it remains unchanged. Sav- ing in the moment of foolish anger, when I misunder- stood you just now, it has never changed, except to grow more fixed and decided. And now," she said, rising and steadying herself against the nearest tree, " it only remains to say, as closing this subject forever between us " "Oh, don't say that!" exclaimed Mr. MacAllan, again covering his face, "don't say it! It will crush IIH it will kill me if you say it! Take time to con- sider whether you have fully known your own feelings. When a woman highly respects a man, cordially esteems him, enjoys his society, trusts him implicitly, 458 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. defends him from calumny, stands by him when others forsake him, knows his inmost thoughts, agrees with him, inspires him to better aspirations, holds the reins of his destiny in her hands, is that ordinary friendship? No ! it is that extraordinary regard which constitutes the basis of a lifelong union, and many times more than exists between married people in nine cases out of ten." Lucy was staggered by this. He had taken her own admissions of regard for him, and woven them into a declaration which certainly astounded her as much as it encouraged him. Was it true that most marriages were resting on a more slender basis than this? She did not know, but was compelled to admit to herself that they did seem to be so. Could it be possible that love, which she had conceived to be an ineffable emotion and transport, was reducible to such terms as these? a mere opinion that a person is so and so? a cer- tain estimate of his character? a liking for his so- ciety? a capacity to do him good? Perhaps so ! These questions flashed through the girl's mind very swiftly, leaving a little sense of pain and a fluttering of the fabric of her dreams. But the instant during which they held her in silence was Mr. MacAllan's opportunity. "Don't give me your answer now," said he. "Take time to think of it, and to pray over it. I can wait. UNDEE THE GRAPEVINE. 459 I believe you will find, when you come to examine your heart, that your regard for me was far deeper than you knew. I believe that when you consider how God brought us together, and adapted us to each other, and put my very soul into your keeping, you will see that he meant us for each other. But if you finally consign me to despair and perdition, it will be sweet to perish by your hand. Adieu, dear friend." Before she had time to reply or to collect her thoughts he was gone. " She only wants to play off for a day or two," he told himself as he went along. " It is the way with all of them. They never r:m say Yes tilt they have said the regulation number of Noes. She'll come to it when she thinks she has kept me on the tenter-hooks long enough." Lucy sat for a time in bewilderment and distress. " What shall I do?" she asked herself over and over. "What shall I do? I can't love him ; and if I don't he will kill himself, or lose his soul, or both ! " The sound of passing feet on the street warned her that people were returning from church, and she arose and went sadly toward the lion The next few days were full of anxiety. Did she, indeed, hold this man's fate in her hand? Was she to blame for the wretched mistake which he had madi ? Was it possible that he was not mistaken? Could it 460 THE ROCKAXOCK STAGE. be that the feeling which she had entertained toward him was what he had taken it for? Ought she to try to make it such, for the sake of saving him? Each of these questions stood for hours of perplexed thought. She wished that she could carry them to Mr. Austin. A little of his clear thinking would be such a help ! He always made things so plain. But of course an appeal to him was impossible. Helen was the next best counselor, and Lucy poured out the whole pitiful story to her. Helen was a poor reasoner, but sym- pathetic, sensible, hopeful ; and even a hug of her plump arms was worth a good deal to the half-dis- tracted girl. The suicide idea she laughed to scorn. " Give yourself no concern on that score, Lu," she said. " He is n't one of the suiciding sort. He thinks far too much of his precious person to do it any harm." " Oh, but, Helen ! You don't know ! You can't imagine how unhappy he was how utterly wretched and desperate." "Desperate fiddlesticks! He was only shamming, child. Don't be taken in by so shallow a trick. Con- sider the absurdity of his attempting suicide. How would he go about it? Take poison? He is too much of an epicure to enjoy it. Hang himself? The atti- tude would be too unbecoming to suit him. Blow his brains out? He is not marksman enough to hit so UNDER THE GRAPEVINE. 461 small a target. Drown himself? It would spoil his clothes. No, no, dear ; there is not a single method open to him. He may starve through laziness, or be hanged for villauy, or yes, there is one fate that would become him perfectly. I will recommend it to him at once ; it is but perhaps you mean to marry him ! " '" Marry him ! You outrageous girl ! " "Well, then," said Helen, with her hand on the doorknob, " let him wed some spiteful vixen who will peck and torture him to death by inches. That would secure the same end as suicide, and at the same time afford some aimless girl useful occupation ! " Lucy pushed her sister from the room, and locked the door behind her. Yet, somehow, the vision of a ghastly spectacle for which she was responsible was effectually dispelled. She was still greatly perplexed ; but certain conclusions were, one by one, established to her satisfaction. She did not love Mr. Mac Allan. She was not accountable for his sentiments, or for his misapprehensions concerning hers. She could never marry him, whatever the consequences of refusal might be. She would never marry anybody never! .Monday brought an excitement of a very ditTeivnt character. The Indian summer weather was charm i PIT, though the south wind swept almost fu-nvly alon^ tin* dusty streets and over the brown stubble lields. Of 462 THE ROCKAXOCK STAGE. what it had been doing all night along the rivers and the lake shore in the distant city ; of the flames it had fanned ; of the fiery showers it had scattered ; of the roar and the crash, the terror of the flying thousands, and the great smoke ascending to heaven, it breathed not a word. An early traveler from "Warnock brought word that a great fire was raging in Chicago. But great fires in Chicago were no novelty, and the news excited at first no special interest m Rockby. Later in the forenoon, vagrant rumors came the Court- house was burned, the Postoffice was burned, the Chamber of Commerce was burned, the Michigan Central Depot was burned, and so on. The state- ments destroyed their own effect by their very mag- nitude. What probability was there that half a dozen different buildings of such size, standing so far apart, and all of stone, would take fire simultaneously? Never had the arrival of the Rockauock stage been awaited with greater anxiety. Never had it brought a mail so full of evil tidings. The wildest rumors had been far short of the terrible truth. The south side, for a distance of more than a mile from the river, was all in ashes, and now the flames had leaped the river and were rolling northward, sweeping everything before them. Hour by hour the story grew more awful. ' Tues- day's news carried it almost beyond the bounds of THE <; RAPE VINE. 463 credibility and sent the wail of the stricken city around the world. Mr. Austin was the first soul in Rockby to discover in the calamity a demand for charitable effort. Before any call for relief had been sounded, before even the extent of the catastrophe was known, he rang the church bell with his own hands till the whole town came flocking to the door. He made a stirring speech, called for subscriptions, had a board of relief organ- ized, turned his church into a depot of supplies, set ovens, needles, and wagons going, and within forty- eight hours was himself in Chicago with a carload of relief stores and a promise of more to follow. All knowledge of the fire was carefully kept from the major, although it involved the loss of every build- ing owned by him, excepting two or three dwelling- houses on the west side. Mr. Fisk wrote to Lucy giving full particulars as fast as they could be gathered, and also informed her of the destruction of the property in which her own fortune was invested. The perplexities which harassed her at the time prevented her dwelling much upon these losses, but she gave the subject sufficient attention to understand that her in- come was to cease for a time at least, and that she must find a way to replace it by her own exertions. How this was to be done she did not clearly see, but she had no doubt that it could be done, and she quite relished the prospect of making the experiment. 4 04 THE KOrKAXW.'K STAGE. Meantime" the major was getting better and the scandal was getting worse every day. People began to talk of the necessity for a trial, civil or ecclesiasti- cal, or both, to bring out the facts and settle the thing one way or the other. Mr. Austin was neither or- dained nor a member of the Rockby church, and held his licensure from a ministerial association in New England An ecclesiastical trial was, therefore, not so easily accomplished. Ought he to resort to the courts? Whom could he prosecute? The rumors were impersonal. They could not be traced to respon- sible authors. They merely pervaded the atmosphere, and the atmosphere could not sue or be sued. The fire was a stunning blow to Mr. MacAllan. A letter from Pack on Monday bade him stop his woo- ing until further notice, as the probability was that the major had lost almost his entire property, and that the safe containing his private papers, including the will, of course, was lying red hot on a heap of burning coal in the Gibson Block cellar. Mr. MacAllan did not need to be told what this signified to him. If the will was destroyed, the scheme which had been based upon it must fall to the ground unless another similar one should be written. He con- cluded that he had been too hasty in wishing the major to die. But if the property was destroyed, a hundred wills could not restore it. Pack's caution was need- UNDER THE HRAPEVIXE. 465 less. There would be no more wooing at present. How fortunate that the thing was left just where it was 1 He could wait indefinitely, under pretense of giving her time. If the renewal of negotiations after a while proved desirable, he could easily manage it so as to save appearances ; if not, why, of course, they were not worth saving. lit- would not give up all hope, however, till he heard again from Pack. He heard. The safe had been rescued, cooled, and opened ; but it contained only ashes. The major's property Ijad been chiefly in buildings on leased laud, and. saving a house or two of no account, all was gone. He might recover a considerable amount as insurance, but that was yet uncertain, as the losses in the city were so immense that they would probably bankrupt every American company that was touched by them. Pack's own house had been burned, with all their goods and clothing except what they had on their backs. They had barely escaped with their lives. Krauntz had been burned out also. Pack had not seen him since the fire and did not know how heavy his losses were, probably very severe. " What the future will bring forth," the letter went on to say, u I cannot say. But I think we shall go right on. with the Ottway scheme and work up others of the same sort. All the more need now of picking up such crumbs. Don't be down in the mouth, old 466 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. boy. Think what a narrow escape you've had. Sup- pose you had married her, or were even engaged ! Well, you are not, and we '11 pick up another heiress for you somewhere. The poor elder is dead killed in trying to save the church. We are making up a little contribution for his family, who are left very destitute. If you feel like giving them five or ten dollars, send it to me." "Hear the fellow!" growled MacAllan. "Keeps me on a five months' chase after the end of a rainbow ; helps his pals to rob me of every dollar they can get their hands on ; and now coolly informs me that the rainbow is a delusion, and passes the contribution box for what small change I have left, if I feel like it ! Well, I don't. I 've made my last donation to the elder, dead or alive ! " CHAPTER XXXV. MR. MACJASON. IV /TR. MACALLAN not only felt bitterly the dis- -Lyj- appointment which had befallen him, in the ruin of his matrimonial and financial prospects, but held Lucy herself to be to blame for it. If it had not been for her, he would never have undertaken this losing game, and she ought in some way to be punished for his ill fortune. Of course she would now be glad enough to accept his attentions and himself. He would give her a chance to signify as much to him, and then, when she was fairly committed, would de- nounce her as a coquette, tell her that he knew of her secret flirtations with the minister, and overwhelm her with reproaches. Again she seemed to elude him. Almost two weeks had passed since the fire, when they, one day, met by chance in Deacon Wauberton's sitting room. Lucy had sat down a moment at the little cabinet organ, awaiting the return of Maggie, who had stepped into the parlor for a book, leaving the door open behind her. Lucy lifted her eyes as Mr. MacAllan entered the 467 468 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. room, but seeing who it was, went on running her fingers over the keys, and took no further notice of him. "Good morning, Miss Darling!" he said in what was meant for a freezing tone. She turned about upon the organ stool and looked at him a moment, with what was unquestionably a freezing glance. "Will you leave the room, sir? or must I?" If she had wished to conquer him at a single blow, she could not have dealt one more effective. This was something for which he was not prepared, and against which he had no defense. All his studied speeches forsook him. How beautiful, how statuesque she was ! How finely this scornful mood became her ! Again he discovered that he loved her ; yes, her. In truth, she had never so enchanted him as at this moment. He must have her, fortune or no fortune. He would defy Pack, and all the world, if need be, and marry her. "Miss Darling," he said pathetically, "you will kill me if you look and speak in that way ! Oh, what has happened that I should be so cruelly treated ? " "A good many things have happened, sir; and I have happened to discover that you are a villain." "Oh, what dreadful mistake is this? I am the victim of some malicious slander. You never could have entertained such a thought in your noble, gener- 469 Oils mind, unless it had been insinuated then; by base calumniators." " Present company cxcepted, I do not enjoy the acquaintance of base calumniators." " Oh, this is dreadful, dreadful ! If you knew how T adore you ! " " I think I do, rather more accurately than you imagine." "How I have loved to na/.e upon your !' " Through your field glass ! " The thrust was a telling one, but he would not wince. " Yes," he replied, " through my fit-Id glass the only means I had of bringing my beloved one near to me." He sighed profoundly. ' Oh, what shall I do? What shall I do?" " If the question be addressed to me," said Lucy coolly, " I would suggest that you stop this disgusting pretense of love-making, repent of your sins, and bring forth fruits meet for repentance." Pretense! No, to do the fellow justice, his 1m. > for her was sincere, though the tissue of lies with which he had surrounded it rendered him incapable of proving his sincerity. He lifted his hand in the air and said solemnl - Darling, I swear before high heaven that I love you with all my li " The blasphemy is quite gratuitous." she said. "Neither heaven nor myself would believe you under oath." 470 THE IIOCKANOCK STAGE. "Oh, this is more than I can bear!" he groaned. '- Why should I prolong ray hopeless existence?" " I see no good reason for it," she answered naively. " No, alas ! you do not. Therefore there is none. I will go and end it." '' Consult your own inclinations about that," she said. " Do not defer the ceremony on my account." " Farewell, then ! " said he tragically, and almost in tears. "There is now nothing left me but to die. Have you not one parting word for me?" " Yes. When you meet Death, speak the truth to him. It will surprise him and fatigue you ; but as you seem to be in a rather morbid state of mind, a change may benefit you. In the world to which you go, shams are not in demand. People there live on the interest of their past lies." 'And this," said he with his hand upon his heart, and assuming the most dramatic attitude of which he was capable, " this is the woman whom I have so adored, whom I still adore, whom I will adore, till the last drop of blood oozes " "You have decided upon the gory method, then! I should have supposed some other would please you better, but it is a matter of taste." "Go on!" said the tragedian meekly. "Your voice is sweet to me, even in this cruel mockery. It is the only voice that ever stirred my heart." 471 "You forget Miss Burr, of Baltimore, whom you deserted on account of her father's bankruptcy ; and Miss Elsie Le Sieur, of Georgetown, whom you drove, by insuttVralile insult, to break her engagement with you, because you discovered a mathematical error in your computation of her fortune. You forget the Misses Shirley and Danton, heiresses, of Washington, for each of whom in successive seasons you unsuc- cessfully professed to be dying, as you are now for me. You stran^i-ly forget, also, the rich widow, Mrs. Colonel Forrestold, of uncertain age but of captivating bank account, who laughed your fine speeches to scorn. And now you come here and offer to me, who am, it may be, your nineteenth or twentieth annual first love, the same old fiction, and expect me to believe it. It has about it, I admit, the charm of hallowed associations, but it lacks freshness and piquancy." Mr. MacAllan was amazed but not silenced. The length of Lucy's speech gave him time to recover him- self. Of course a denial of the facts cited, however she had come by them, was idle. The items were too numerous and too specific. He sank into a chair. "lam glad you have alluded to these things," lie said. " You give me a chance for explanation. It H true that, urged by ambitions friends and oli;< matchmakers, I did make advances to thi.---"' la
  • - I 472 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. even persuaded myself that I was fond of them. But I had not seen you. As I have before told you, from the moment that I looked upon your sweet face " " Mr. MacAllan," said Lucy, rising angrily, " I will thank you not to insult me with any more of your sentimental falsehoods. It is high time that this farce was brought to an cud. Except for others' sake, I would not have lowered myself to hold this conversa- tion with you. But I thought it might possibly check your course of evil doing in this place, and so save some needless suffering on the part of your victims, if you knew, once for all, that your character and history are thoroughly known in Rockby. We know you to be a mercenary, false, hypocritical, heartless, conscience- less adventurer, a despicable slanderer, a remorseless robber." " Hear me a moment, Miss Darling. Just one moment." " No, sir, I will not ! You shall hear me ! I know the history of your adventures here and elsewhere. I know the story of your matrimonial enterprises at the East, where your persistent search for marriageable golden fleeces earned you the name of ' MacJason.' I know why you insinuated yourself into our song circle at the Tremont House ; why you came to Rockby in advance of me ; why you attempted to ride with me in the stage ; why you made friends with Mr. 473 Austin and with Major Gibson; why you attended our church ; why you entered the choir : why you sought my acquaintance ; why yon participated in the Ottway land theft ; why yon pretended to withdraw from it and did not; why yon pursued me with your counter- feit attentions. I know the contemptible, mercenary motive which has actual. -d yon from first to last." He made one more effort to defend himself. " Let me ask you." lie said humbly, " how, upon your theory of a mercenary motive, you account for my renewing my protestations of affection, after I knew that your property w:is destroyed." "I do not quite understand it," she replied frankly. " But I know there is some base design at the bottom of it, because you are incapable of any other." " I suppose it is useless for me to make any state- ment on the subject. You would attach no consequence to anything I might say." " On the contrary," she retorted,"! should accept it as conclusive; for, whatever it was, I should know that the exact opposite of it was the truth! " Without giving him time for a rejoinder, she went on: "I am fully informed of all the details of your scheme, and how you obtained your means to prose- cute it from one Krauntx, and instructions in the arts of rascality from one Pack, and fictitious influence from the fictitious elder. I know the truth about the 474 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. surveying versus hunting expedition to the Ottway Tract, and the falsehood about your pretended with- drawal from the piratical scheme. I know your ex- ploits as a sham invalid, as a sham religious inquirer, as a real spy and impostor, as an adept in the use and abuse of optical instruments. I know that you and your accomplices are the authors of the infamous slander by which you are seeking to ruin the character of a noble and blameless man. I know by precisely what means you have propagated it, and what you hope to accomplish by it. I know that you hoped Major Gibson's sickness would prove fatal, and that you secretly threatened his life, and Mr. Austin's, and my own ! All this I know v:e kuow ; for others share the knowledge with me, and we are prepared to prove every item of it when the time comes." This was a longer speech than the preceding one had been, but Mr. MacAllan found no answer to it and attempted none. He shrank and cowed before it like a convicted criminal, looking more and more abject every moment. AU the ingenious concealments in which he had so confidently trusted were stripped from him. He sat before the woman, to win whom ho had staked and lost everything, au unmasked villain. Yet her power over him had never been so great as at this moment. She compelled him to look at himself in the light of her own purity, to think of himself as .v/,'. .v.ir./.i.vo.v. 475 she thought of him, to despise himself as she despised him. "We have in our hands, sir," she added slowly, " the means of exposing your villanies, and we pro- pose to use them. Your career as an impostor and calumniator is at an end, though you are likely to figure in Another capacity, quite as sensational!" The words did not terrify him. The spell of her personality was upon him, and was stronger than his fears. ' Miss Darling," he said calmly, " you will do perfectly right to expose and punish me. I deserve it; I am all. and worse than all, that you make me." ' What new hypocrisy is this? " said she scornfully. " No wonder you think it so," he answered, " hut it is not. You believe me capable of nothing but deceit. You are mistaken. I have known many honorable impulses within the last few months, and they were due solely to your influence. They are the bright spots in this wretched life of deceit which I have lived, and their memory can never be taken from me, what- ever you do to me." Either this was a spasm of sincerity or a very clever imitation of it. Lucy gave the wretched man the. benefit of the doubt. "The memory of an occasional good impulse is a pretty small moral capital," she said. "It is a delicious torment," he replied ; " for it teacheg 470 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. me that if, before I became entangled in this fatal net- work of lies, I had met you as an honorable man, you might sometime have learned to care for me." "It is not impossible," said Lucy candidly. "I liked you, and thought you very agreeable, till I found you out." "Miss Darling," said he, rising and facing her, " I know it is useless for me to profess any sincerity or any virtuous intentions, for you believe me incapable of either." , ' ' I shall be ready to entertain a better opinion of you, sir, whenever you deserve it," she replied. "May I understand that as a promise?" he asked earnestly. "Certainly; a promise with a condition attached." " I shall cherish it, rather, as a promise with a mo- tive attached the strongest incentive that could possibly be given me. I know well that I am speaking my last words to you, and that you will deride them as lies, but your God knows they are not. There is nothing that I so much desire as to have you believe that there is some little grain of good in me." "I would rather you would reform for my sake than not at all ; but it is impossible for me to set so much value upon your reformation unless it comes from a desire to do right, and to undo the wrongs that you have committed." MR. MACJASOX. 477 "To do right and to do what you wish are one and the same thing." He said it in a way that was at the farthest possible remove from flattery. He had strangely altered his opinion of this girl whom he was just now ready to denounce as a coquette, as she stood before him, in her fierce denunciation of his falseness, embodying and glorifying truih, and compelling him to admit it. " If I had known you soon enough," he said in a tone that touched her heart, " I might have been a man instead of the devil I am." * Be a man ! " she said vehemently, and involuntarily taking a step toward him the first sign that her dis- trust was abating. " It is too late ! " he answered. 4 ' It is never too late," she rejoined. " Before the sun goes down to-day," said he, " you will know that at last I have begun to tell the truth." "God help you to keep your promise and me to believe it ! " she said as he turned and without another word left the room. Lucy was no sooner alone than she remembered, what she had quite forgotten since this exciting inter- view began, that Maggie had been in the next room, and must have heard every word that had been spoken. She hastened to the parlor. It was empty, and the door at its farther end was open. Lucy was at uo lo*3 478 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. to interpret these signs. Maggie had heard the first part of the conversation, and, finding it both private and distressing, had noiselessly left the room. Lucy followed her to the little chamber where she felt sure of finding her. And there, indeed, on the bed, her face buried in the pillows, lay the grieving girl. "Poor Maggie !" said Lucy, bending over her, and kissing the visible margin of the hot cheek. "Go away!" she cried passionately. "Don't touch me ! You are a cruel, wicked girl ! " "Maggie! " " You believe the lies people tell about him, and won't let him explain himself, but sneer at him, and break his heart. Go away, I say ! " "Do not drive me away, dear Maggie," said Lucy pathetically. " I have the heartache, too. Let me lie down here and cry with you." CHAPTER XXXVI. THE HLACK GIANT. TT was on the afternoon of that same day that Lucy, partly upon the doctor's prescription, partly upon the minister's invitation, again accompanied him on a benevolent visit to the Ottway Tract. The October sun shone its brightest. The air was full of autumn sounds and odors. Rosey jogged leisurely on, up hill and down hill, through the fragrant woods where squirrels were chattering, and among the tawny fields whose dull yellow the plows were turning to brown and black. She chose her own gait, and under a slack rein, and with no fear of lash or rebuke, nipped at wayside weeds, and kicked, switched, twitched, and bit in an unceasing skirmish with the flies. She was evidently on the best of terms with the occupants of the phaeton, and in no danger of disturbing their conversation. " Do you know what day of the month it is, Lucy?" asked the driver. u Yes, the twenty-first," she said with a little flutter of the hearl at hearing her first name from his lips. It was only very recently that lie had begun to call her so, and the sound was \ei y sweet to her. 47i> 480 THE JIOCKANOCK STAGE. " Do you remember two months ago to-day?" " Indeed I do. We were riding in this same phaeton together, along this very road, on our way to Deacon Lorimer's. I was just now wondering if you thought of the coincidence." " I am not likely to forget that ride ; but it seems more like years than months since it happened." "I hope we are not riding to any one's deathbed to-day." "It is not likely. Mr. Jiles is improving, rather than otherwise, and your negro proteg is not in im- mediate danger, if the doctor is right." "It is too bad in Tom to ridicule poor Nancy so. He insists upon it that she is only shamming sickness ; but it is absurd to imagine such a thing. She does n't know enough to do it. Besides, what motive could she have ? " "You always judge people charitably," he said. " I know very well," she replied, " that by charity in my case you mean an amiable stupidity ; but wait and see." It was a rather embarrassing topic for both of them. She believed him to be thinking of her charity for Mr. Mac Allan, and he believed her to be thinking of her charity toward himself. By common consent they turned to impersonal matters. They spoke of the tree that was suffered to stand so near the roadside, and agreed that in a dark night it was mi-: iti.M'K <;/A.\"/: 481 liable to cause a serious accident. They noticed the threshing machines in operation here and there, with their gangs of rough and loud-mouthed men. They talked of the present aspect of the Ottway suit, which had been freely discussed with Mr. Austin as a trusted member of the family. Lucy alighted at the entrance of a footpath loading to a small, new hut a short distance from the roadside. Mr. Austin was to make a call a mile or two away, and return for her in an hour. The hut was roughly built of unplaned boards, and was scarcely bigger than a kennel. It had been drawn there in the night on a two-horse wagon, behind which another wagon brought a bed, a frying pan and an iron kettle for camp-fire service, a bag of corn meal, a rifle, and a negro couple calling themselves Jackson. Tin- man was intensely black and as big as a son of Anak. The woman was a comely mulatto, fat ami hilarious. This was the " young couple " whom Nat Jennings had proposed to set up at housekeeping on the disputed territory. It was their business to maintain right of possession until better title could be gained, subject to the orders of Jennings, and conlidentially of .Mr. Mac- Allan. The suddenness of the move had taken tin- neighbors by surprise. The bigness of the man, his evil looks, his rille, and the sheath knife which he wore in his belt did much to secure the intruders from 482 TLI-: POCKAXOCK STAGE. molestation. Moreover, either from the fatigue of the journey, the unhealthfulness of the locality, or some other reason, the woman fell sick and immediately took to her bed, rendering ejectment proceedings im- practicable. The kind-hearted neighbors pitied her, made visits of sympathy, carried her delicacies, and raised a subscription for her relief. Lucy heard of her through the Rices, and not only visited her, but per- suaded the doctor to do so, and was all the more atten- tive to her when he pronounced her sickness spurious. " Laws, Miss Lucy, dat you ? " exclaimed the invalid as the Sister of Charity entered. "Now, ain't dat ar cur'us. Shoze yu born, me 'n' Abruni wuz jist a-talkin' boutcher, this blessed minute; wa'n't we, Abrum?" Abram assented. " An' I sez ter Abrum, sez I, ' Abrum, it 's bored in on me 't Miss Lucy 's sommers 'round hyar.' An' Abrum, he uppeii sez, sez zee, * Sho, Nance, Miss Lucy 's too nice an' pootty an' rich to be runnin' rouii' atter a po' nigger lak yo' be.' An' I shet my eyes up, thisaway, an' sez I, ' Abrum, I kin see Miss Lucy 's plain 's daylight, a-ridin' right along the road.' An' de wuds wuzzent mo' 'n out o' my motif when I heerd de kerridge stop." Lucy listened patiently to this fiction, made kind inquiries after Nancy's health, and unfolded some packages wl^-h she hod brought. THE BLACK GIANT. 483 " Dar now! see dat blessed angel! If dis hyar ain't jis lak 'Lijah 'n' de ravuns ! " " Why did n't yer bring de elder in, Miss Lucy?" asked Abram. "He has gone to visit Mr. Jiles," she said, " and will stop for me when he comes back." " How long 's he gwine ter be gone? " " Perhaps an hour." ' Wall, Nance," said Abram, reaching for his rifle, " ef Miss Lucy 's gwine fer ter set with ye that long, I '11 jes gwout 'n' shoot a squir'l fer yer supper. We hain't got no meat ceppen salt pork, an' yo' appetite 's so 'mazin' pore." " Be keerful 'n' not shoot yerself, den, honey," said Nancy. Lucy was relieved to have him gone. She felt an unaccountable fear of the great black fellow, though he always treated her with obsequious respect. The hour passed, l>nt Mr. Austin did not return. Another hour passed without bringing him. " .Mr. Jiles nlust be worse," said Lucy. The sun went down, and still he did not come. Abram returned with his rille. "War's yo' squir'l, Alu-utn?" said Nance. " I heerd yrr pin hang >1Y." " Yis, I tooken shot at a squir'l's eye, look in' outa\ . r hole, but he drapped down in the hole, 'n' I could n't git him." 484 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. Lucy began to be alarmed at the absence of Mr. Austin. Something must have happened ; but why had he not sent her word ? She asked Abram to go over to Mr. Rice's and request him to harness a horse and come to her as quickly as possible. Abram read- ily consented, again taking his rifle, as he " mout meet up with a squir'l on the way." Mr. Rice was the nearest neighbor, and lived rather more than half a mile distant. Lucy estimated that half an hour would suffice to bring him to her. But three half-hours went by, and still there was no sign of either him or Abram. " Dat fool nigger 's done got atter a squir'l, V for- got all 'bout de waggin," said Nancy. " He is not hunting squirrels in the dark," replied Lucy. It was, indeed, quite dark. The evening had brought heavy clouds, completely hiding the moon and the stars. At last Abram came in. "Mr. Rice sez de waggin done got broke, but he '11 fix it up V come right over atter ye." Another half-hour of waiting made Lucy almost frantic. "What does this mean?" she cried. "Oh, what can it mean ? " Fear for her own safety began to mingle with her anxiety for Mr. Austin. She imagined that she felt THE BLACK GIAXT. 485 the eyes of the negro, and glancing suddenly at him, detected a look on his face that turned her own pale. He came nearer to her, grinning like a black demon, and when he spoke she smelled the odor of whiskey in bib breath. " Don't you be skeert, honey," said he with a leer, that seemed to grow more maudlin and diabolical with every word. " I '11 show you de way troo de woods over ter Rice's. 'T ain't more 'n a hundred rod, an' den you kin make de rangemunce yerself. Come along, honey." A shudder was Lucy's only answer. The fellow came nearer, looking more dangerous. " Ef yo' don't do dat, miss," said he, "yo* gotter stay here all night." He stepped close to her. The demon in his face was horrible to see. I^ucy stood trembling before him, like a bird under the cruel fascination of a serpent. Her tongue was paralyzed. Her limbs were stone. She felt the blood sink away from her face and from lici brain. A deathly sickness came upon her. The fiendish image began to swim before her eyes. Was she going to drop dead where she stood? She almost hoped so ! He reached out his hand and laid it on her shoulder. The touch broke the serpent's spell. Instantly lit-r trepidation ceased, and instead of tlu: rigidity of stone, 486 THE ROCKAXOCK STAGE. she felt the strength of steel. Her mind was preter- naturally clear. She seemed to do hours of thinking in an instant. She was in the clutches of a monster. He had contrived to keep her there. He had somehow prevented Mr. Austin's return, and had only made a pretense of going for help. Yet she felt herself supe- rior to him. God would not leave her without defense. She was not conscious of any act of prayer, but super- natural aid was a certainty to her. She thought of the rifle hanging upon the wall. She had never touched one in her life ; but she remembered how it was cocked and aimed and discharged. All this with a single flash of thought ; so that between the first touch of that black hand upon her shoulder, and the deter- mination of her course of action, no time seemed to intervene. With a swift bound she flung the hand from her, and before the brute jcould guess her pur- pose, had snatched the rifle from the wall, cocked it, and stood with her finger on the trigger and the muzzle pointing at his breast. It was his time to tremble, for he was a wretched coward. "Oh, laud ! oh, good land, Miss Lucy ! " he cried, " doan you shoot ! I was n't goiu' fer ter tech ye-" " Begone! " said she, moving her finger nervously upon the trigger. "I shall sit down before this door all night, and if you come near it, you are a dead man. Begone, I say ! " THE BLA'-K GIANT. 487 "Oh, Ise gwiue," said he, turning to run. "Ise gwiue quick ! Doau you shoot ! " And he disap- peared in the darki Nancy had watched the rifle episode with staring eyes and open mouth, half rising, in the intensity of her interest. The sigh that escaped her as she sank back upon the bed caused Lucy, for the first time, to look at her. She lay witli her hands clasped and her eves rolled upward. ''Oh, my Ian'! why didn't you shoot? Now you done let dat nigger go ! " The escape, however, was not yet accomplished. Reaching the edge of the thicket to which lie had lied, expecting at each step to hear the rille crack behind him, he Hung himself down behind a tree. What should he do next? If the young rifle-woman escaped now, she would set all the dogs in the country on him the next day. lie must either surprise and disarm her before morning or take to the woods. He inclined to flight and rose to his feet. The howl of a wolf came from th depths of the forest, and sent a shiver through him. lie could not go there. lit- drew the sheath knife from his belt, and feeling about with his hands, found a stout sapling, from which he cut a cudgel of formidable weight. Another sound startled him the tread of stealthy steps, and the rustling of the Lushes. His keen 488 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. caught the outline of a human form. He raised his club, but the weapon struck the branch above his head, and at the sound the man stopped, just out of reach. "Wish sh, sh," he said, and drawing something from beneath his coat, threw the light of a small bull's- eye lantern in the negro's face. Another bull's-eye, farther off, appeared, and its rays faintly illuminated a file of masked men, a dozen or more iu number, armed with guns, pitchforks, clubs, and revolvers, and some of them carrying coils of rope around their waists. "Oh, Lord 'a' mercy ! " cried Abram, trembling from head to foot, " what yo' Ku-Klux want long o' me? I a'n't done nuffln, boss, an' Ise jes goan fer ter leave the kentry, fac', I is ! " The men laughed behind their masks, but not a word was spoken, except by the leader, who, presenting a cocked revolver at Abram's head, told him to shut his howling. A man with a coil of rope stepped forward ; Abram's hands and feet were bound ; a noose was put around his neck, and the rope was thrown over a limb, drawn straight, and placed in the hands of a giant as big as Abram himself. The wretched villain broke out again in piteous entreaties : " Oh, doan you hang me, boss ! I a'n't de man wat you want, fac' I a'n't. I a'n't teched no- buddy. Oh, please, boss, lemme go ! " " See here," said the leader sternly, "if you speak THE BLACK GIANT. 489 ag'in. except to answer my questions, or if you don't answer everything I ask you right on the square, up you go." The giant at the rope gave it a smart jerk, by way of emphasis. The questions came so fast as to almost take Abram's breath away. Where did he come from? "What was he here for? Who sent him? Who gave him orders? Was he under Nat Jennings? Was MacAllan one of them? Did Abram know it was a land-grabbing game, and so on? " You hear him, boys," said the leader. " Now come on and we '11 fetch out the wench, and set their caboose afire. You keep a tight holt o' that rope, Infant." The sound of Abram's pleadings had reached Nancy's ears. "Oh, my Ian'!" she cried, " de Ku- Klux is atter Abram, shuah ! I he' Mm squallin' out ter 'em not ter hang 'ira. I guess now that ar dirty black nigger git his dizzerts." The apparition of masked faces at the cabin door overwhelmed her with terror. " Oh, my Ian' ! liver dey is now, atter me!'* She buried herself under the bedclothes and gave vent to frantic howls and ejaculations. The hope of rescue that had come to Lucy with the Srst sound of voices gave place to fresh terror when the group of masks came crowding the open door of the hut. 490 THE IIOCKANOCK STAGE. The men were not less surprised than herself. "Great Moses!" exclaimed the first one who spied her. " See here, cap, here 's somethin' pooty nice. Well, this is a go ! " " What? is there a white one, too?" said the leader, pushing forward. Lucy stood facing them, still holding the rifle, but making no menace with it, and feeling both less fear and less self-command than when before the negro. "I don't know who you are," she said, "or what your purpose may be. If you are men, as I trust you are, you will not molest a couple of defenseless women." "Who are you?" demanded the captain. u I am Miss Darling ; I live at Rockby." "Oh, yes!" called out a man in the rear, "we know whose darling you be. You're the girl that's engaged to that MacAllan scamp. A pooty darling you be, a'n't ye? We're out a-huutin' your set to- night." " I belong to no set, and have no connection with Mr. Mac Allan. I am a friend of the Ottway people, and am doing all I can to help them." " Gammon ! " cried the man in derision. " I seen ye ridin' all over with him. Don't tell me ! Go ahead, cap. I know her, she 's tryin' to fool ye. Don't pay no attention to her ; but keep a sharp look- BLACK GIANT. 491 out for Mac Allan. He 's most gen'ally round where she is." "Come on then, boys," said the captain. "Fetch out these two darlings and burn the shanty. Hustle out here," he said to Lucy, seizing her roughly by the arm and taking the rifle from her. ' Hustle, I tell ye, or we'll burn it over your head." The touch brought no such thrill of mental and physical energy as that of the negro had done, and she permitted herself to be thrust forth. " A do/en rullians are less terrible than one," sin- thought. Four men seized Nancy's bed, and kicking off boards enough to enlarge the door to the requisite si/.e. bore the screaming creature forth. " Take 'em to different places," commanded the leader. " It don't do to bunch 'em too much. Leave the wench to the edge o' the swamp yonder; and here, you little yeller tramp! you take this young woman out by that big basswood tree, and keep her there till J come to you." " All right, cap'n," said a voice in the midst of the group; and a mask showed itself under a tall man's arm. The man who wore it, if he were a man, was but a boy in height, though his shoulders were broad, and his arms reached to his knees. "Come along, miss." he said to Lucy. She followed him instantly, and without remonstrance or hesitation. He walked 492 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. before her to the basswood designated, passed it, and silently taking her hand, turned sharply to the left, led her around two sides of the little clearing, to the foot- path, and thence to the road. The passage was rapidly made, through thick undergrowth, which tore Lucy's clothing and lacerated her hands, but she did not slacken her speed. " Can you run?" whispered her conductor as they reached the highway. She answered with a pace that soon set him panting. At length, when they had put a good quarter of a mile between them and the burn- ing cabin, they stopped under the shadow of a tree. Panting and trembling, she snatched the black cambric mask from his face. "Oh, you dear, good Grim!" she cried, "you are an angel from heaven! What miracle ever brought you here ? " Very briefly he told her how it had come about. Anxious to see the major again, he was making bis way as best he could toward Rockby, and had found lodging for the night at a farmer's. A gang of threshers were there, made up of rough young fellows ready for any wild frolic. The negro squatters had been discussed, together with the whole scheme of the laud pirates by whom they were employed. Some one proposed that they organize a raid, put the squatters out-of-doors, bum the hut, and frighten the negro into a confession of certain facts which they greatly wished TV//-: r.LACK f.'/.LVr. 493 to obtain. Grim had been invited to join them, which he very willingly did, hoping to get some new light upon the Ottway business. Lucy did not relate her own adventures in detail. She merely stated that she had gone to visit the woman supposed to be sick, expecting the minister to call for her. that he had failed to come, that she had passed hours of terrible anxiety from which the attack of the masked men had been a welcome relief. But all the horrors of the night were now forgotten iu her anxiety concerning Mr. Austin. She urged Grim to run with her again. k> \Vc must find him," she said. " I know something dreadful has happened to him." The nearest settler was Mr. Rice. To reach bis house by the road they must traverse two sides of a triangle, of which the route through the woods was the hvpothennse. When they had traversed one side and were about to turn the angle, Lucy suddenly checked her companion. " Hark ! Hark ! " From far down the Rockby road came a sound that thrilled her like the bugles of an army coming to her rescue. She knew it \\ell. Kvery day she heard it pass along the Rockby streets. Often at her open window she had caught the smindxif it from the bluffs far beyond the Onono, that dull clank of iron upon iron, made by the wheels of a heavy vehicle. "The 494 THE KOCKANOCK STAGE. stage!" she cried. "0 Grim, "they are coming to find us ! This is a miracle indeed ! " In reality, it was in the most literal sense natural. At dusk Rosey had come flying into the stable yard, wild and foaming, with the fragments of her harness barely clinging about her. It was an occurrence call- ing for no explanation, but for prompt and energetic action. There had been an accident. Where did it occur? How serious was it? What had the occupants of the missing phaeton suffered from it? The doctor was not at home, and the major was still unable to leave the house. The Roekanock stage had arrived a little behind time, had disposed of its load, and was returning toward the stable when Rosey dashed by. Lezer at once turned and followed her, and learn- ing where she had been and who had been with her, promptly put the stage at Mrs. Ashley's disposal. It was exactly what was wanted. Hastily seizing a pil- low, some extra wraps, and a compact little case which the doctor called his emergency magazine, she entered the coach, while Pat, leaving poor Rosey to her fate, mounted, with a couple of lanterns, beside the driver. Away went the stage on its unaccustomed route, at such a pace as jaded horses, a heavy vehicle, and a hilly road would permit. Old Grey attempted no in- terruptions, but with his faithful mate seemed to com- prehend the situation. Yet, despite the best endeavors THE BLACK '.7.1AT. 405 of driver and team, it was dark and the lanterns had been lighted before the clank of the old coach wheels reached the ears of Grim and Lucy. Within the space between the hurrying stage and the two who r.iu panting through the dark to meet it, lay all that \\as tragical in the runaway accident. CHAPTER XXXVII. NIGHT ON THE JERICHO ROAD. HASTENING on to meet the coming stage, Lucy and her companion soon came to the tree which stood so dangerously near to the highway. On its trunk, perhaps two feet from the ground, something white gleamed in the general darkness. Lucy touched the spot with her hand, and felt the moist, gelatinous surface where a piece of bark had been lately torn away. At the same moment, she heard a snort within a yard of her face, and a sound as of a horse straining at his halter. She started back with an exclamation of fright. " Who is there? " said a voice out of the darkness, a few yards farther on. She had never expected to hear that voice again, but it brought her inexpressible relief. " Mr. MacAllan ! " she exclaimed. "Are you looking for MS? What has happened ? " " I am trying to find out," he replied, more surprised at the sound of her voice than she had been at his. " Don't you know? Are you hurt? If I only had a light 1 " 496 NIGHT ox Tin: .//:/,/.' 7/0 I;OAD. 497 "Here's some matches," said Grim, going toward the voice. He struck one, and Mr. MacAllan lighted with it the end of a folded newspaper, making an ex- temporized torch, whose light imperfectly revealed the scene. He was kneeling by the roadside. Near by was the wreck of the phaeton. His own horse was tied to the fatal tree. Before him lay a motionless form with its white face turned upward. With a scream of horror Lucy sprang forward and cast herself upon the ground beside him. " Oh, it is he, it is he ! And he is killed ! I knew it. I knew it." Mr. MacAllan had left Rockby at dusk, after hav- ing faithfully carried out the purpose expressed to Lucy in the morning. Deacon \Vauberton had been culled upon to put his notarial seal and certification upon a written statement, which he was requested to read and hand to Mr. Austin after sundown. As the " good, sensible rig, "which had been so lon-_: identified with Mr. MacAllan's schemes, was heat In I for Chicago, its owner experienced a novel sensation, the consciousness of virtuous intention. His route lay through the Ottway Tract ; for lie must without fail \brani .Jackson, for a purpose critically connected with the virtuous intention. The Held glass Imd nut been on duty that d;;y, and he had no siispieion that Lucy and the minister had driven this way ; othei 498 THE ROCKAXOCK STAGE. he would not have delayed until evening his visit to Abram Jackson. Driving at a steady, all-night pace, enjoying the novel sensation, and meditating on the more novel and ex- citing one that the Rockby public would enjoy the next morning, he was suddenly brought to himself by the jolting of his buggy and the stopping of his horse. He had driven over some small obstacle, and a greater one lay in his path. Alighting, and taking his horse by the bridle, he advanced cautiously. The white spot attracted his attention, and led him to the tree, where he fastened his horse. A shadowy something in the ro'ad proved to be an overturned carriage, and the obstacle over which his wheels had passed a man's arm! Finding the body warm but insensible, he was about to hurry away for assistance, when he heard the sound of wheels in the distance in one direction, and footsteps and voices approaching from the other. When he discovered that one of the voices was Lucy's, that the overturned carriage was the doctor's phaeton, and that the insensible body was that of Mr. Austin, his heart died within him. " It is too late ! " he exclaimed. "Oh, why did I not start one hour sooner? Now, everything is in vain ! " Looking upon Lucy, as she sank beside Mr. Austin, and lifted the earth-begrimed head into her lap, he almost expected to hear her say, as his own conscience did, " This is your work, mur- NIGHT OX THE JERICHO ROAD. 499 derer ! " He caught the gleam of water by the road- side, and ran to fill his hat from the little stream. The clank of the stage wheels was close at hand. Lezer had seen the quickly fading light of the paper torch, aud lashed his horses to a run. But before he could reach the spot there came a swift rush of wheels, and irou-shod feet, and the black mare flew by him. " Thirty rods ahead of ye, Doc. Take care ! " he shouted. " Take care ! " echoed Grim. " Don't drive over us ; " and he seized the black mare by the bit as the doctor drew rein and leaped to the ground, lantern in hand. " Grim ! You here? " And you, MacAllan? "'And Lucy! Thank God you are safe, dear! But what is this?" He held his lantern down close to the white, upturned face. " O Tom, save him ! " cried Lucy with streaming eyes. " Don't let him die ! He must not die ! " u We will do all we can, poor child ! " he answered gently; "and you must be brave, Lu. More may depend on you than on me." He put his hand on the" wrist and over the heart. He pushed back the closed eyelid and looked within, but gave no sign of what he thought. A rout in the 600 THE HOCKANOCK STAGE. clothing near the hip, and an appearance of dampness in the fabric attracted his attention. He put his fingers to the spot and held them to the light. They were red ! He gave a quick glance into Lucy's face. It was as white as the one that she held in her lap, and she put her hand to her brow as if about to reel and fall backward. "Lucy," said the doctor sternly, "don't do that! If you faint now, when his life may depend on your courage and help, you are not the woman I think you are." "I won't, Tom," she said with returning color. " Don't mind me. Only do something for him I Do something quick ! " Mr. MacAllan took her handkerchief from her lap, wet it in the water which he had brought, and bathed her temples with it. She looked her thanks to him, and taking the handkerchief from him bathed the white face in her lap. The stage was already there and emptied of its load. Helen, Lezer, and Pat came about the group on the ground. The doctor gave them no chance to ask questions. " Rosey ran away, striking the tree there, and throwing Mr. Austin out. Lucy is all right. Now don't waste any time. Take the seats out of the stage, and fill it half full of hay. There are stacks in NIGHT OJV THE JERICHO ROAD. 501 this Geld on the right, I think. Run, some of you, with your lanterns and fetch armfuls of it. Helen, I want you here." Drawing forth his instruments, he quickly cut away the clothing and exposed an ugly, ragged wound, :it sight of which Helen shuddered. " Nothing but a flesh wound," said the doctor, pro- ceeding to dress it. "He must have struck some sharp, rough object as he fell." The stage was soon converted into an unbalance. Lucy was first helped in and seated herself upon the hay with the pillow in her lap. Mr. Austin, still unconscious, was then carefully lifted and laid upon the soft couch, with his head upon the pillow. Lezer mounted his box. Grim and Pat took their places beside him. The doctor and Helen followed with the black mare. " S'pose I sh'll hefter drive pooty careful?" Lezer said to the doctor. " Yes, carefully, but not slowly. Go just as fast as you can possibly go with safety." Mr. MacAllan silently watched tin- departure of the sad procession. Lucy had spoken a hasty word of acknowledgment as she passed him. The others ignored his presence. When the retreating lanterns had left him again in darkness, he untied his horse and resumed his journey. The sense of virtuous 502 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. intention afforded him little satisfaction, but the memory of that last word of kindness. from Lucy was sweet to him. Arrived at the site of the negro's cabin, he found in its place only smouldering embers. But from a tree near by hung what a sudden gleam from the embers showed to be a human form, its toes resting on the ground, and a rope stretching from its neck to the limbs above. "Poor Jackson!" said MacAllan, cautiously draw- ing nearer, " have you come to this? So I was too late to save you, tooJ " " Is dat you, boss? " said a wheezy voice. " I wuz playin' possum, kuz I 'lowed yo' wuz one o' dem ar Ku-Klux what strung me up. Oh, please, boss, cut me down ! Dey done stole my knife." Mr. MacAllan quickly released him from his painful position and unbound his hands and feet. The burly fellow rubbed his neck, drew a few vigorous breaths, and stooping down picked his cudgel from the ground where the vigilantes had made him drop it. " Now, yo' low-down white trash," said he, turning fiercely upon MacAllan, "I gotter have a setterment long'r you ! Ise hild yer shanty fer yer, 'n' Ise kep' de gran- gers offen your lau', 'n' Ise fixed de elder whatcher tole me ye had n't no use fer, 'n' Ise skeert dat ar gal mose to death, what went back on ye, 'n' de Ku-Klux NIGHT O.V THE JERICHO ROAD. 603 (ley bu'n mer shanty, V strung me up on a tree, V Nance, she uppen lef'.me. Now, w'at I gwineter git for all dat, eh ? " ' Nothing," replied MacAllan coolly, drawing a revolver. But before he could cock it, it was wrenched from his hand, and a blow of Abram's cudgel felled him to the earth. His hut partially broke the force of the blow, and consciousness soon returned to him. lie dared not show signs of life, however, but lay limp and passive, with closed eyes, while the negro took his watch and money, and stripped him of his clothing. Then fol- lowed a short pause. " Speck I oughter shave de cawpse," said Abram. " Dem ar whiskers '11 fetch five dollars, shuah." He took the penknife which he h:id just stolen from his victim's pocket, and with much pulling and sawing on his part, and much mental and physical agony on the part of MacAllan, cut the whiskers away and stuffed them into his pocket. Con- summate robber ! He left no marketable article behind him. N.-xt he drew what he called the " cawpse " under the same tree from which he had jiist been cut down, put the same noose around its neck, and before Mac- Allan could decide whether it was safer to yield or resist, had thrown the rope over the limb above and given it a painfully vigorous pull. But the i 504 THE ROCKAXOCK STAGE. already chafed and weakened, proved unequal to the strain, and broke, letting MacAllan drop back upon the ground. Some sound in the forest alarmed the would-be hangman, and hastily depositing his booty in the buggy, he mounted it himself and drove away. Farewell, "good, sensible rig"! It will be many a day before your old master drives you again, for busi- ness or for pleasure. Taking a brand from the fire, Mr. MacAllan searched about for some chance garment with which to cover himself. In the edge of the thicket through which Grim and Lucy had fled, he found a paper package of peculiar appearance. " It may help to rekindle the fire," he said, and retained it in his hand. On the other side of the ruins he discovered Nancy's deserted bed with a single tattered coverlet upon it, dirty and ill-smelling. Wrapping himself in this, he returned to the fire, heaped the unconsuraed fragments of the shanty upon the coals, and sat down shivering before them upon the ground. As the flames grew brighter he tore open the paper package and absently glanced at its contents. AVhat was his amazement to see his own handwriting, and to read a letter which he had sent to Pack a few weeks before, relating to his most confidential affairs, finan- cial and matrimonial ! Further investigation revealed other similar productions, including the reunited frag- \imiT ov yv//-: .//;/,'/' no j;o.\f>. 5(1.", inents of til-.' letter which he had torn in pieces in the street five months before. There were also reports of conversations between Pack and Krauntz concerning Mac-Allan's affairs, letters from Major Gibson to Grim, copies of letters from Grim to Major Gibson, and copious memoranda of various facts, all relating either to the Ottwav business, or to MacAllan's designs * D upon Lucy Darling. The package furnished the as- tonished reader data for an extended review of his plans and doings for the previous five months. In his present circumstances and state of mind a more exquisite torture could not have been contrived for him. 14 So it seems I have been on exhibition all the while, telling my secrets to the very people I thought to deceive, and working out the whole plot right before their eyes ! And this is where Miss Darling got the facts which she hurled in my face this morning. Her guardian must have had detectives on my track all summer. No wonder she was so sarcastic. Yet how the noble girl seemed to relent a.nd pity me at the last, much us she despised me! " Concerning Grim's part in the business, or the manner in which this extraordinary package found its way to the thicket where MarAMan had di^-ovend it, he did not now pause to consider. lie had neither time nor inclination for conjectures. The fire was lo\v. 506 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. Me was cold, naked, penniless, friendless. Abramwas no longer to be feared, but the incendiaries and lynch- ers might be lurking about. Drawing the old coverlet around him, the barefoot vagabond crept back to the highway and wandered aimlessly on, resolved to end his wretchedness in the first pond he came to. Long after midnight the Rices were awakened by the loud and persistent barking of their dogs about a pile of newly threshed straw near the cattle sheds. A lantern and a pitchfork brought to view a haggard, unclothed man, wrapped in a tattered coverlet, and half dead with cold and fright, who proved upon closer in- spection to be what remained of Mr. Allan MacAllan. He recited briefly the story of the robbery and begged permission to spend the night in the straw. But Mr. Rice insisted upon taking him to the house, and find- ing him reluctant, actually dragged him in by force. Mrs. Rice arose from her bed, put clean linen upon it, and left it to his use, while she and her husband re- treated with the baby to the attic. In the morning they dressed him in a % farmer's blue cotton frock and overalls, shaved him, and gave him a bountiful breakfast. Thus once more was he dependent upon the charity of those whom he had sought to wrong. They served him cheerfully and urged him to remain with them during the Sabbath, but shame and fear forbade. Ninirr OH THK JJ-:I;K-U(> I;<>.\D. 607 On parting be gave them the paper package, re- questing them to deliver it to some of tlie Ashleys, ami to say from him that he had taken the liberty to read its contents ; but that, "though it related chielly to his affairs, and though he might even claim the owner- ship of parts of it, he was now acting under a resolu- tion with which it would not be consistent either to destroy or to retain it. His journey still led through the Valley of Humilia- tion. In a lonely wood he was startled at hearing a voice not far from the road, crooning in a quavering minor strain : u Oh, nobody knows de trouble Ise seen ! " He stopped and peered cautiously through the branches to get a glimpse of the invisible singer. At the snapping of a twig the song suddenly cea>ed and a woman leaped to her feet. " Why, Nancy ! is that you?" he exclaimed, going toward her. " Mebbe 't is V mebbe 't ain't," she replied, retreat- ing as fast as he advanced. " What vo' want long er me?" " Don't you know me, Nancy?" "Speck vo"re one o' dem ar Ku-Klux w'at bu'n de shanty 'u' strung up Abrum." " No; I am Mr. MacAllau." 508 THE ItOCKANOCK STAGE. Nancy burst into derisive laughter. " Wat kinder fool yer take me fer, eh? S'pose I doan know dat ar two-legged pa'r o' whiskers w'at hired me tcr make b'l'eve sick ? Yo' go 'long ! Yo' doan look no mo' lak him dan a mule look lak de new moon ;" and again she broke into laughter, but kept a safe dis- tance between herself and the object of her suspicion. " It is no wonder that you don't know me, Nancy," he said. "I hardly know myself. But I want you to listen to me. I have done much wrong, and have brought you into trouble by it. I am very sorry for it, and if I can ever make you amends I will certainly do so. Now, as you see, I am as poor as you are, and far more miserable." He related the previous night's adventures, including the encounter with Abram. No sooner was Nancy satisfied of his identity than she broke out in a torrent of execration, as shocking in its language as it was terrific in its violence. Trans- lated and expurgated, it denounced him as a cheat, a liar, and a villain, the instigator of murder and the au- thor of all her present wretchedness. She reviled him bitterly for letting Abram escape, and Abram more bit- terly still for not killing him, and invoked upon them both such curses as made his blood run cold. " Now, yo' g' long boutcher business if yo' got any ! " she cried ; " an' doan yo' never speak ter no 'spectable nigger ag'in." NIGHT O.V THE JEHICEO ROAD. He made one more effort to conciliate the infuriated creature, but she drowned his voice with an unearthly scream, and rushed upon him in a frenzy of rage from which he was glad enough to escape by flight. Glanc- ing backward over his shoulder as he fled, he saw her stop, panting, in the road, and stand, flinging her arms in the air, and swaying her fat body to and fro, exclaiming : ' Oli, my lau' ! Oh, my good Ian' ! I feel hxk Ise gwinter have de powers ! " There was nothing ludi- crous in the situation, either to him or to her, as he plodded on through his Valley of Humiliation, and she turned back toward Rock by. Meantime, scenes very different from this, though not less sensational, were occurring in Rock by itself. Mr. Austin lay upon the bed to which he had been borne from the stage, on the previous night, painfully conscious now of the wounds and bruises to which In- had been so alarmingly indifferent a few hours before. Lucy, too, was utterly prostrated. The splendid strength, which had carried her through the ordeal just passed, had succumbed at last, and she lay in a w feverish languor, more intolerable than pain. Neither of them had been questioned concerning tin- events of the previous night, or even been permitted to speak of them, though many tilings nee.le.l expla- nation. Grim had told a strange story, of limlin- Mi-s 510 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. Darling at the negro shanty ; but of the scene which preceded his arrival, or of the circumstances which led to the runaway accident, neither he nor the family had any knowledge. Mr. Austin's own recollection of the affair was but just beginning to have some distinctness. He remem- bered a noise in the thicket at the roadside causing Rosey to make a sudden start ; then the report of a gun, and at the same instant a blow near the hip; a sensation of numbness ; the falling of- the reins from his hands ; the rush of the frightened horse around the corner and down the Rockby road ; the collision with the tree ; and then nothing more, till he awoke to consciousness in the Rockanock stage. That awakening was the part most vividly recalled, though it seemed to him now less like an awakening than like a delightful dream. His first sense of re- turning life was that of a throbbing pain in his temples. The next was the touch of a soft hand on his forehead. Then he heard a murmuring sound, at first indistinct and apparently miles away, then seeming to come nearer and nearer, till it grew into words. "Dear Lord," it said, "dost not thou care for thy child? Wilt thou let this noble life perish by the wayside, all its splendid powers crushed at a blow? No, no, thou wilt not ! Life and death are in thy power. All things are possible to thee. O thou who didst give NIGHT ON THE JERICHO ROAD. 511 back to Mary and Martha, even out of the grave, the brother whom thou lovest, give me back my brother also, or, if thou wilt not, let me die with him ! " There was no voice to say to her, " He is not dead, but sleepeth." The awakening sufferer, greatly as he longed to tell her that her prayer was heard, could neither speak nor move, nor so much as open his eyes. But the life whose new pulses were stirring within him made its own sign to her. A sudden thrill Hushed through the hand that lay upon his forehead, aud through every nerve and faculty of her beiu^. For a moment she held her breath iu eager suspense. She did not dare to let herself believe the blessed truth. Then she felt herself swept away in such a transport of gladness as had never before possessed her, and would not now have been possible to her ex- cept for the mental and physical condition to which this awful night's experiences had brought her. It was not rapture. It was delirium. CHAPTER XXXVIII. A NEW GOSPEL. E Rockby church had never before contained *- so many people, or people more solemnly atten- tive. The pews, the aisles, the choir gallery, the porch, the outer steps, the space about the open win- dows, the sidewalk, all were crowded long before the bell ceased tolling ; and still the assembly grew, blocking the very street in front of the entrance. No service was expected. The news of the acci- dent to the pastor had spread through the village like wildfire, and a dozen or more different versions were current, the most common one being that Mr. Austin was killed, and Miss Darling fatally injured. It was, at the same time, credibly reported that startling dis- closures had been made concerning the scandal, and that a public statement, which would vindicate Mr. Austin's character and electrify the community, would be made from the pulpit to-day. Hence the vast concourse which filled and surrounded the church, and hence the hush and suspense which ensued when Dr. Ashley made his way to the pulpit with a mysterious document in his hand. 512 A VATII' GOSPEL. 513 " If good news be gospel," said he, " then I have a genuine gospel to preach to-day ; for I bring you that which will, I know, be good tidings of great joy to every one of you." A rustle and murriiur of gratification ran through the audience. " First of all," he continued, " let me set your minds at rest concerning last evening's accident, about which so erroneous reports are in circulation. Mr. Austin is neither killed nor likely to die. He has sus- tained painful injuries, which will lay him aside for a time, possibly for a month or two; that is all." The signs of gratification were more demonstrative than before, so that the doctor was compelled to wait a moment for the restoration of quiet. A man in the vestibule repeated to those without the statement which had been made. Some one in the choir gallery asked Dr. Ashley a question, not distinctly heard by the audience. He turned and replied to the speaker in a conversational tone : " She is suffering the reaction following intense excitement and fear, but is in no danger." "And now, friends," said he, holding up the docu- ment in his hand, a half sheet of 1 Mial <-M|> with a large green seal in the lower left-hand corner, " here is the gospel of which I am the fortunate m and which is to make this Sabbath day tin- most n.ta- 614 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. ble day in the history of this church. Ever since the infamous scandal with which you are familiar reached the ears of the official boards of the church and soci- ety, they have been making strenuous efforts to dis- cover its authors and the means of its refutation. All that the best legal and detective talent could do has been done ; and we were already in possession of the facts in the case, and a part of the proofs necessary to enable us to establish them in court, when we unex- pectedly received what is better than the clearest legal demonstration could be the confession of the whole plot by the chief conspirator ! " As Dr. Ashley concluded this sentence, again hold- ing up the document with the green seal attached, the audience broke out in acclamations of joy that drowned his voice. The man in the vestibule again repeated the substance of the statement to those without. "Let me read this document to you," said the doctor, as soon as he could make himself heard : ROCKBT, October 21, 1871. To whom it may concern. I, Allan MacAllan, hereby confess and declare that the reports recently in circulation in this community, deroga- tory to the moral character of Rev. Dudley Austin, are wholly and maliciously false; that they were fabricated at uiy suggestion, by unscrupulous persons, acting in my sup- A NEW (1OSPEL. 515 posed interest; that both their authors and myself knew then) to be without foundation in fact, and used them with the deliberate intention of destroying Mr. Austin's character and influence, for a purpose as selfish as the means em- ployed were despicable. I furthermore declare that I am moved to this confession by no fear of detection, and in no hope of immunity; that it has been voluntarily prepared, without the suggestion or knowledge of any other person, ami solely because I have been led to see and loathe the ba^enos, of my conduct. I therefore earnestly entreat all persons who have been influenced by the malicious slander for which [ am responsible, to banish it at once and forever from their minds, and to accord again to Mr. Austin the same estimation for blameless morality in which he was ." MaeAllan referred to tlieir former relations, and to the services which he had ivndnvd Kraunt/ and 1'aek. But Pack's name only called forth an angry retort. 522 THE BOCJKA-\OrK "Das is not use you talk to me pout such rascal feller like Pack. I not have sometings to do niit him any more." " You are all rascals together ! " exclaimed Mac Allan angrily. "You and Pack and the elder merciless thieves and robbers, every one of you ! " Krauntz did not resent this language in the least ; but a strange, malicious smile came over his face. " You never see dem elder, a'n't it?" " No ; and I don't want to ! " " I never see 'im too. Pack, he never see 'iin. No- body never see 'im. He never see 'iinself. He don't vas uoware." "What do you mean? I've paid him over two thousand dollars, the grasping villain ! " " 'Ow you pay 'im, eh? " " Through Pack." Krauntz laughed. " Das whassa matter. Das mouny a'n't git troo Pack. He keep it all, selbf. / know." Mr. MacAllan sank into a chair and stared at his tormentor. He remembered how this invisible ally had been' managed ; with what mystery he had been sur- rounded ; how adroitly money had been extorted in his name ; what incredible things he was alleged to have accomplished. He recalled Lucy's allusion to him as " the fictitious elder." A :v/;ir 9OSFSL, 523 " Fool and knave, and the dupe of knaves ! " he ex- claimed. " This is retribution indeed ! " " Yah, yah," said Krauntz coolly. '- Das all right. You cheat'u sometimes ; sometimes you git cheat'n. Das all right. I do 'iin so, too, in my beezniss." Mr. MacAllan left the pawnbroker's shop in a of mind that boded trouble for both himself and Pack. His reformation had not yet advanced so far as to ex- tinguish or control that spark of tropical heat of which we have had one or two glimpses. Hotter and hotter grew the flame within him, as he made his way on foot along the desolate streets of the north side, in the direction of Mr. Tack's present residence. It was a long and weary way for a nmn who had had neither breakfast nor dinner. Reaching Lincoln Park, he stopped to rest for a moment, leaning against the palings near the entrance. Within the enclosure a workman had stopped his cart, hung his black-snake whip on the horse's hames, and gone away in the ditvclion of a distant group of fel- low laborers. Mr. MacAllan watched him enviously. " If I had his chance to earn a livelihood, I woi/d count myself happy," he thought. As his eye followed the retreating figure, another attracted his attention a sallow, keen-eye i man, walking meditatively down the footpath, apparently revolving in his mind some weighty quest ion of state 524 THE EOCKAXOCK STA' some folks, V put on blue overalls 'n' other things accordin', 'n' cut off such a reg'_ r erlcr hosstail of a baird, why it 's like the Kthiopium chnngin' !. es the Seriptur' se/.. Hut that wa' n't all. lie M hired out to a teamster in the burnt deestriek on the north side, 'u' wuz shiivvlin mortar 'n' ashes like a good feller, all covered with dust, ye know." 'How diil you happen to reeogni/e him?" M 530 THE BOCKANOCK STAGE. " Happen ! Ther' wa' n't no happenin* about it. I knowed him by his ears, es soon 's ever I sot eyes on him. ' I 'm glad to see you makin* yerself useful, kunnle,' sez I. He looked up sorter sprized, and see who it wuz and the city pleecernun standin' by me, and he throw'd down his shuvel 'n' sezee, ' Do you want me, Lezer?' An' sez I, ' Yes.' An' he turned round to his boss, an' sezee, ' I 've got to go with these men.' An' his boss ast us a few questions, and sezee, 4 1 'm sorry to loose ye, Mack,' an' hauled out his wages an' gin him, an' he come right along with us es peace- able es a lamb." " But he is n't in jail now?" "Bless ye, no ! They wuz a lawyer name o' Willis went bail fer him. Cur'us, wa' n't it?" "Where is the other man? He is not at large, is he?" " What, the nigger 't shot you ? Not much ! We 've got him on ice till you git back. Oh, he '11 keep, Jack- son will." " Is Nancy still at Dr. Ashley's?" "She? No; she's ter work ter the hotel. Got well pooty fast, did n't she ? She don't make no bones o' tellen how Mac Allan hired her ter make b'l'eve sick, so 't they could n't turn her out o' the shanty. But what she's maddest at him fer is his cuttin' Abrurn down ; sez she could forgive him everything but that. OUTSIDE AND IXSIDE. 531 You oughter hear the critter talk about Miss Darlin' though. Land ! she jest wusshups her." " You say Miss Darling is well? " " Oh, yes, she 's tiptop, an' so 's all tlie rest on 'em ; the major 'n' the dot-tor 'n' Miss Ashley 'n' tlie chil- dren 'n' Deacon Wobberton's folks, 'n' so forth '11' so on. Yis, they 're all tiptop. But look a here, elder, what be I a ihinkiu* on? Why, you 're most froze ter death, fer a fack. (lit ri'_ r ht inside, an' wrap them air lap robes round ye. Whoa, boys! There, git right down, elder." His passenger protested. He was not suffering. lie would ride to Mayo anyway; they were almost there already. But Lexer was imperative. t% No, sir! I a'n't goin' ter carry your frozen remains into Kockby, elder, not to-night; no, sir. I don't drive no ice curt. I a'n't goiuter hev 'em say the elder went off ter Milwaukee V got cured, and then froze ter death in the K<>ekanek stage." So the pasM-nuvr was fain to yield. I.e/.er had acted rather strangely to-day. He had refused some through passengers, commercial travelers, on the pre- text that their baggage was too h.-avy, ami had com- pelled them to charter a private No inside p:, \veiv taken who \\ : beyond Mayo; and at that place he loaded the outside seat 532 THE EOCKANOGK STAGE. with boxes and baggage, so as to leave only room for himself. At the postofflce he found a passenger's order on his slate ; but it seemed to escape his memory. He had never been so forgetful before, or so indiffer- ent concerning fares. On leaving Mayo, instead of the stage load he might have had, he was alone on his box, and Mr. Austin alone inside. From a house on the outskirts of the village there issued a young lady, fair of face and trim of figure, dressed in faultless taste, and carrying a russet music case in her hand. As the stage stopped, she looked smilingly at the contents of the outside seat, including the driver, evidently expecting room to be made for her there. " I s'posed ye dr.uth.er ride inside to-day," said Lezer awkwardly, " so I piled this here seat full o' truck. It 's pretty cold ridin' agin this wind." " Cold ! " she said, laughing, and holding out her two arms as if to challenge an inspection of her warm woolen suit. " I dressed on purpose for it." At the same instant she read in Lezer's face that for some reason he did not wish her to ride with him. A little piqued and hurt, she entered the stage, and catching a glimpse under her downcast eyelashes of a pair of masculine legs, she was about to sit down with her back to their owner, when a familiar voice cried, " Lucy Darling ! " and her two hands were clasped in those of Dudley Austin. OUTSIDE AND IX HIDE. 533 "How delightful this is!" she said, taking tin- offered seat by his side, while he tucked the larger half of his lap robe arouml her. ""We did not know you were coining today : at least I did not. Dr. Eichberne wrote Tom that the treatment was working to a charm, and that he would keep yon a fortnight longer." " I am only released for a week or two on parole, promising to return if Dr. Ashley thinks it best." " And you are vi-ry much belt " I call my self well. And you I should call you so, too," he added, regarding her with evident satis- faction. "Perfectly well and happy. Do you see this?" holding up the music case. " I have attained great dignity since you went away." " You are not teaching im: "I have fifteen pupils, ten of them in Mayo, and come down on the stage twice a week when the major does not drive me down." " Does he approve your plan?" Not a bit; he thinks it needless and foolish. But when he saw my heart was really set upon it, he a -ort of consent. Do not you think it a good thing to do?" She looked eagerly into his face, as if his opinion was a matter of great moment to her. Uv all means," he replied without hesitation. "There! I told the major you would B8J How 534 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. can a girl sit down to a useless life? I can't. I meant to do this if I had not lost my property at all. And now I just must ; and I am glad of it. I have no very grand notions about a vocation, and no talents for one if I aspired to it. But I can earn my board and clothes, and that is better than being a drone ; isn't it?" " Infinitely better," said he. "Yet it would be a mistake to suppose that you could avoid being a drone only by earning your own income. The proper ex- penditure of one otherwise provided for you might afford you a far higher vocation." " But is n't it nobler to earn than to spend? " " Certainly not. Earning is not an end or even a virtue. It may incidentally benefit the earner where the alternative is idleness. But when one has such an income that the right expenditure of it furnishes ample employment for all of one's time and faculties, that is vastly grander than any mere industry." " I never thought of it in exactly that light," said Lucy. " I hope you will do so then," he responded ear- nestly. " I have thought much of it in connection with your future. You are to wield an immense power, and I think God is preparing you to make it a means of immense good." She looked at him in a puzzled way, but evidently OUTSIDE AND I WIDE. 535 did not suspect his meaning. "You always exagger- ate my importance," she said. " There is not likely to be any immense power committed to me, and I should not know what to do with it if I had it. My little fortune is now chiefly in ashes." " Major Gibson's is still ample." "Oh! I understand you. But you are mistaken. I am not the disposer of that. The ward of a million- aire is not the. custodian of his purse." - P.ut tin; wife of a millionaire will be in this case, I urn confident." The puzzled look changed to one of amazement and distress. What nonsense he was talking ! lie never used to do so. Was he losing his mind, or had he "been studying the art of idiotic banter while he was away ? Mr. Austin was not watching her face, and went smoothly on to make still mmv astounding remarks, quite unconscious of the sensation he was creating. " As the wife of Major Gibson, you will have " "Mr. Austin!" she exclaimed with a if a sword had pierced her. " An- you in-ane? or are yon :ig me? or what is the meaning of such revolting language?" " I beg your pardon," he said. " I had no thought of offending you in speaking of such a matter of course." 536 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. " What matter of course?" " Your marriage to the major. I did not suppose there was any impropriety in referring to it." " Do you mean to tell me that you ever dreamed of such a thing as my marrying my guardian?" " Why, of course ! I was so informed before ever I saw you, and have never thought of you in any other light than as the betrothed wife of Major Gibson. Is it not true ? " " True ? marry the major? it is as monstrously impossible and inconceivable to both of us as the mar- riage of a daughter to her own father ! " She covered her face for shame at the thought of it. Suddenly she dropped her hands and looked at him with a merry twinkle in her eyes. " Who told you this shocking fib about me?" she asked. " Mrs. Trausington." "Mrs. Transington ! " she repeated significantly. " The same who created that Eastern girl for my bene- fit, I believe ! " For a moment their eyes met. "Lucy, "he said, " the last fiction that has held us apart is gone. Now I have a truth to tell you that has long been a secret fire hidden in ray heart." He told it, being suffered without resistance to choose his own way of telling, and to resort to such means of expression as his feelings prompted. OUTSIDE AM> I \SIDE. .", J? Then, indeed, was the old stage glorified. Had it been a royal chariot of purple and gold it could not have seemed more beautiful to them at this moment. Lezer had once accused the stage of leaking sounds. Perhaps he detected that weakness now. At any rate there was a look upon his face as if he had heard things of which he did not feel at liberty to speak. At the foot of the lull where old Grey was wont to fall into motionless meditation, the stage stopped, and Lezer was heard expostulating with the great thinker, of course in vain. " Let us get out," .said Lucy, " and walk up the hill together." Mr. Austin deelaivd that for his part he was entirely contented where he was, and that he would cheerfully grant old Grey two hours for meditation if he wished it. Nevertheless he assented to Lucy's proposition, and helped her down, making rather more effort to sus- tain her weight than seemed absolutely necessary. ' You have forgotten your cane," she said ; and being nearer to the door than he, she reached her hand for it. " You may have it, if you want it, "he said ; ' I 1 no further use for it;" and giving her his arm. he caught her step and walked away l>y her side with a pace as even as her own. k ' What! " she exclaimed, stopping him, and stand- 538 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. ing a pace or two away to get a good view of him, " where is your limp? " " I left it in Milwaukee," he answered, laughing. " Send for it," said she, pouting a little in her com- ical way. "I want it. I don't like you nearly so well without it ! " As they walked on again together, he told her how the counter-irritation of the wound, together with the electrical treatment more recently resorted to, had re- stored the paralyzed nerve and so cured his lameness. " I suppose I ought to be very grateful," said Lucy. "Of course it will be better for you; and I used to pray so earnestly that it might be cured. But, some- how, you don't_seein just like yourself without it." At the top of the hill they paused, where Lucy had once espied Mr. MacAllan, and shrunk from him with such loathing. u My first impression was nearest the truth, after all," she said. " If I had acted upon it, I should have spared myself much suffering and yon more. I think I shall be a convert to the intuitional theory in spite of myself. Man may be a ' rational animal,' as the books say, but a woman's only safety is in her intuitions." " I cannot admit that," said Mr. Austin, "for I know very well that you disliked me at first." " I did not!" she said earnestly, laying her hands upon his breast and looking up in his face with glow- OUTSIDE AXD INSIDE. 530 ing pride. "I disliked a mean caricature of you that I had set up in my silly head ; but the first glimpse I had of >/(( of your ival self I knew you for what you wen. If I had known myself better, I should have been frightened at the kind and strength of my rd for you." I.' xr stood watching tlu-m from the bottom of the hill, as Lucy made this speech, whose words, of coiir>e, he could not hear. " A'n't that nice, though?" said he. "Why, old . you 're a reggerlcr dispensation o' provverdnuce, you be ! " .Moved by this acknowledgment, the great thinker cut short his reverie, gave his mate the wink, and scrambled vigorously up the hill. Lr/.er regarded the waiting passengers quixxically. 'The wind's gone down some," he remarked dryly. Kf ary one on ye 'd like a outside seat the rest o' the wav, I s'pose 1 kin make room here (Vr ye p'r'aps." "No, thank you." they answered promptly. " It is perfectly comfortable inside." " Wall, jest /Jiu say; 'tis a kinder nice place, that are .stage is. when they a'n't too many in it." Arrived at liockby, Mr. Austin tendered Lexer >i\ times the amount of his fare. 44 Wall, I in' .id the driver, refusing to touch it. "Can't ye tell how many :. :' ye, cl 540 THE ROCKANOCK STAGE. " I know you forfeited at least five fares for my benefit, and I want you to know I appreciate your thoughtfulness." "Stop!" cried Lucy, all blushes and pulling back the hand that held the money. " I will not have a price put upon this ride. Lezer is a naught} 7 , deceit- ful plotter and matchmaker, and he shall not be rewarded for his artifices." " Good for you, Miss Darlin' ! " laughed the driver, following them toward the house witb Mr. Austin's satchel. "Don't you give yerselves no oneasiness about me. I c'lected my dooz more 'n six times over 's I come along." The family were aware of Mr. Austin's intended return and of his unexpected recovery from lameness, and had kept both secrets as a pleasant surprise for Lucy. But something more than pleasant surprise was manifest in both her face and his, as they pre- sented themselves. " Why, Lu, what has happened to you ? " said Helen, as soon as the first salutations were over. " You went away in such a fit of the blues this morning ! What has become 6f them ? " "I got a nice antidote for them, straight from Milwaukee," said Lucy archly, drawing closer to Mr. Austin, and putting her hand upon his arm. Her face was in a flame as she did it. She expected to OUTSIDE AXl> IXSIDi:. ."> \ \ see the entire family start in astonishment. But they only exchanged significant glances. 14 You blessed innocents!" said Helen. "Do you think you are telling us any news? Do von Mippcse there is one of us who has n't seen and foreseen all this from the first moment that you met each other? Why, the very baby knew it mouths ago!" Lucy looked from one to another for a moment, and, stooping, kissed the child in Helen's arms. "Then the angels do whisper to babies after all," she said, and turned and ran from the room. At tea time, Margie was sent to bring the fugitive down. " You 's dot a nuvver seat, Aunt Yucy," said the confidential messenger. " You 's doiu to sit sider Mr. Ostin." "I shall like that, Margie," she said, "and the nearer the better." The blushes with which she took the place thus ned her were not diminished when the remark was repeated by Margie to the assembled family. Later in the evening, Lucy found Mr. Austin and the major alone in the drawing room, engaged in earnest conversation. She came to Mr. Austin's side and laid her hand upon his shoulder. "Major," she said, " Dudley was afraid yon would not like this." "Like it!" echoed the major. "As if it wasn't my own plan, from beginning to end. Hut it did \ \ 542 THE BOCKAXOCA' STAGE. my soul to see how stupid you both were about it; and I could n't have stood it much longer. I 'd have taken the matter in my own hands, and had you betrothed by court-martial in spite of yourselves." It was a singular coincidence that Abrarn Jackson should break out of jail on the night of Mr. Austin's return. Many thought it singular, also, that both Mr. Austin and Miss Darling should rejoice at the felon's escape, and at the failure of the sheriff's search party to recapture him. "I could not have connived at it," said Mr. Austin; "but it is a great relief to my mind-to have it happen so. I could not bear to see the great brute punished for the blunder- ing surgery which cured my lameness." CHAPTKII XL. CONCLUSION. TIIK reappearance of the preacher in his pulpit was the signal for an ovation rivaling the jubi- lee over his vindication. He made no allusion, di- rectly or indirectly, to preceding events, but taking up his work where he had laid it down, made it, and not himself, the object of attention. Yet none could fail to notice a new unction in the service. Many, too, as the opening anthem was sunu;, thought that they discovered new sweetness and power in the soprano voice. Lucy no longer listened in a vicarious capacity. Indeed, site did not set-in to hi-rsrlf to be listeuii all, but to have some subtle consciousness of the speaker's thought and feeling, as if it were a part of her own soul. "I suppose," -said the doctor, :is he met her by chance on the stairway, with a look of ineffable | on her face, " it would be a rudeness to remind you of that long-airo resolution of yours, never, never to be a minister's wife." "Let us rather recall your own prophetic in.-| Ml 544 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. tion, Tom," she answered, " when you waved some- body's splendid letter over my head, and declared so fervently that you had found a man after my ou-n heart ! " The whole world seemed to be a world after her own heart in the happy days that followed. It had been her wish and Mr. Austin's that he should receive her to the church, and so it was decreed. Having been duly ordained and inducted into his pastorate, he was permitted, as -Jus first official act, to impose baptism and the vows of Christian faith upon Lucy Darling. Other similar duties followed as the months went by, and the fruits of faithful labor were gathered in. Work was a delight. Love was an inspiration. Win- ter came and went ; spring appeared and passed away ; summer returned ; all the hours were golden. The approaching marriage of the pastor and Miss Darling was a matter of liveliest interest in the parish, and of unanimous satisfaction. The proposition to build them a parsonage is said to have originated with Lezer Martin ; but it was seconded by everybody, and carried out with enthusiasm and unstinted generosity. Opposite Dr. Ashley's was an old, disused homestead, whose sloping lawns and great spreading elms, in full view from Lucy's windows, had been her especial ad- miration. The site was now purchased, the decaying cottage was removed, and in its place a dwelling was CONCLUSION. 545 erected worthy of the superb location and of the pur- pose for which it was intended. It was the plan of the donors to provide the furnishings also ; but Major Gibson claimed that part of the work as his own. " That is," he explained to Lucy, " yours and mine. We will do it together, you know. You shall furnish the taste and make the selections, and I will do all the rest." He made but one stipulation that she should have everything exactly as she wished it ; and but one complaint that her wishes were too moderate. "You shall have the best furnished house in Rockby, my dear," he said. "I want nothing of the sort," she replied. " I will not set up a two-story show case, or bazaar, where the merchants can display their goods at my expense. 1 want a home that will brighten and sweeten our lives and bless everybody that enters it." " "NVell and good," said the major, " but that is not to be accomplished by plainness and economy. Give your friends something worth looking at. That will be a genuine blessing, and a rare one, in this town." "My friends must not come to my home to look at furniture and carpets and tiles and bric-a-brac. If they want to see those things, let them go to the stores, or the exposition. I will not maintain a show for their benefit." ** Yet you want your house attractive." 546 THE ROCKAXOCK STAGE. "Yes, attractive in the true sense. And therefore I don't want it to provoke every visitor either to envy me, or to deplore my extravagance. It must attract by its harmony, its fitness, its unobtrusive beauty, its congenial atmosphere ; so that the guest shall not go away to describe it to his neighbor, but shall feel him- self sweetly drawn back to it by a charm that is inde- scribable. That is what I call an attractive home." "Well, well, dear," said the major, "it's going to be just as you like it best ; and I guess it can't help being attractive, if you contrive it and live in it." The argument was renewed over many a detail, as the work went on, ending invariably in the triumph of her taste, and ultimately in its complete vindication. Yet neither friends nor parishioners yielded their right of contribution to the beauty and comfort of her home, and when she entered into possession of it, she met in every room and on every hand delightful tokens of their affection. Of course, being permitted to have everything as she wanted it, she fitted up one suite of rooms expressly for the comfort and con- venience of an aged single gentleman of her ac- quaintance. The wedding took place on Lucy's twenty-first birthday. The major had desired that it might be so. " We must not leave the girl without a master," he said. " When one tyrant abdicates, another must be CONCLUSION. 547 crowned." So the old tyrant kissed his ward and invested her with her liberty and her little fortune; and the new tyrant kissed bis wife and endowed her with bis poverty of estate and the splendid opulence of bis love. As an elaborate account of the event, together with minute descriptions of the toilets and the pivs- ents, the loveliness of the bride, the sweet grace of her bridesmaid, Maggie Wauberton, the names of the principal guests, beginning with the Whortles and Transingtoiis, and ending with (Jrim and I.e/.er Martin as all this, I say, was published in full in The Rockby Interview, the curious reader is referred, for any desired details, to the columns of that journal.'* At last the evening's ft-siivities were over. The Rockby friends took their departure, with a pleasant monotony of congratulations and good wishes. ( )n the veranda the Ashley household, augmented by their Chicago gaefttB, -.lathered about the bridal pair, as, amid a confusion of guy voices and u profusion of jests, laughter, and good-ni-ht ki . -. Lucy took her husband's arm and set forth with him upon their wedding journey. Out into the moonlight they wont together; down the half-shaded walk; across the moonlit Street ; under the great elm arches, ami into the home which seemed to them, in its brightness and beauty, its flowers, its pictures, its manifold 548 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. adornments and treasures, each one the gift of some friend who loved them, an enchanted palace. Here the wedding journey ended ; and here, with a new sense of mutual possession, they spoke to each other, for the first time, the words, " My wife" " My husband." "I have a most unconjugal whim to confess to you," said Lucy. "And I pronounce it beforehand, discreet and wifely and adorable, whatever it is," he replied. " It is about my name. I don't like giving it up. It has belonged to me so long, and seems so much a part of me. Am I very, very silly to feel so?" " If you are, there are two of us ; for the feeling is quite as much mine as yours, dear. I, too, love your name. It has written itself in letters of gold all over the world, and not one letter of it shall be lost. To-night we have written my name after it ; that is all. And between us two, even that is need- less ; for you see, I only insert a comma, for expres- sion's sake, and call you Lucy, darling." What response she made to this speech I am, as Lezer would say, not at liberty to tell. The wedding gifts had been brought over and appropriately placed in the various rooms. Among them were a couple of unopened packages. " Oh ! here are the two presents that Helen spoke CONCLUSION. .Ml) of," said Lucy. " I wonder what they can be, that she was unwilling to display them over there. That one, from its shape, must be a book ; but the other I can't imagine what it is. Can you?" " No, but you shall soon know." They sat down together and proceeded to unwrap the packages. The first was a book, as they had guessed a plain, cloth-bound copy of The Merchant of Venice. At the casket scene, in the second act, a card was inserted between the leaves. Mr. Austin placed it in Lucy's hand and they read together the following inscription : Dazzled by the gilded casket, I forfeited the richer treasure, which now a worthier man has won. God bless him and you ! I trust no shadow will be cast upon your great joy by this homely gift, purchased ivith my first honest dollar. A. MxcA. For some momenta they sat silent, and Lucy's face grew pensive. " It ought to make you very happy, dear," he said, putting the book away, "to know that you have taught such a man his first lesson in virtue." He took the other package upon his knees, and removed its wrapper. An elegant rosewood came to view, within which was a silver coach. " The Rockanock stnge ! " they both exclaimed. 550 THE EOCKANOCK STAGE. Mr. Austin lifted it from the case arid held it up for Lucy's admiration. See ! it is the old stage idealized. Tongue, whiffletrees, boot, whip, reaches, baggage-rack, curtains, ill-matched wheels, and the very name on the side everything is here, except Lezer and the horses ! " "It is another of the major's surprises," said Lucy, " and the very brightest and most wonderful of them all. But why did not Helen put' it where our guests could enjoy it? How it would have delighted Lezer ! " Turning it over in his hand, Mr. Austin made a discovery. " Why, it's a box, Lucy ! " he exclaimed, " a jewelry case, or something of the sort. Here are hinges ; and yes, a spring. There ! " The top of the coach flew up. Within it, and exactly fitting its shape, was a package, carefully wrapped and sealed, and the following note : Dear Lucy, I once devised this trifle to you in my will. But, as Grim would say, " Second thoughts are best," and I want you to have the benefit of it while I can see you enjoy it. Use it just as will pro- mote your happiness, and you will most oblige the giver. If 3'ou think it an unsuitable load for the stage to carry all the year round, call at the Fidelity Safe Vaults, whenever you are in Chicago, taking the enclosed certificate and key with you ; give your name CONCLUSION. 551 and the password " Rockanock," and you will be shown the drawer, now reserved for your exclusive use, where these and some other papers of mine reposed during the great fire. If you feel the least hesitation about accepting them, you will break the heart of Your affectionate guardian, O. T. GIBSON. "Oh, I hope he has not given me money," said Lucy. " I don't need it, and I don't want it." She hamled the package to her husband, and watched the opening of it with less interest than she had felt in many a smiill trinket that d:iy. Breaking the seals, he took out an engraved paper and laid it upon her lap. It was a one-thousuiul- dollar United States bond. He laid another upon it ; ami another upon that; and others, and others still, till the package was exhausted. " Poor little wife ! " said he, patting her cheek, " don't look so frightened. There are only two hundred and fifty of them." THE END. 110222