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 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC
 
 VIVIAN'S PATH
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 BY 
 WILLIAM C. LEVERE 
 
 CHICAGO 
 
 FORBES & COMPANY 
 1911
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1911, BY 
 FORBES AND COMPANY
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGB 
 
 I AN ISLAND GIRL 9 
 
 II THE ESCAPE 21 
 
 III IN THE HANDS OF THE LAW 33 
 
 IV THE FLIGHT FROM THE HOUSE 45 
 
 V A REFUGE IN SUGAB LOAF 53 
 
 VI VIVIAN OUTWITS HER PURSUERS 67 
 
 VII AT THE OLD FOBT 75 
 
 VIII THE RESULT OF THE INQUEST 87 
 
 \ 
 IX A BOAT IN THE STRAITS 99 
 
 X THE HUMBLING OF JIM HESTER 107 
 
 XI "THE LITTLE EVA" 119 
 
 XII HABVEST TIME IN A RIVEB CITY 133 
 
 XIII IN A NEW WORLD 147 
 
 XIV VIVIAN OF THE FOOTLIGHTS 159 
 
 XV THE FACE OF A FOE 175 
 
 XVI A STRANGER IN A GREAT Cmr 185 
 
 XVII THE WITCH IN THE CHUBCH . . ... . 195 
 
 XVIII OLD FBIENDS MEET AGAIN . . . . . . . 203 
 
 2136887
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XIX THE VOICES OF THE SHELLS 217 
 
 XX THE WITCH'S SON 227 
 
 XXI THE STEUGGLE IN THE CHURCH 243 
 
 XXII IN A CIRCLE OF FRIENDSHIP 251 
 
 XXIII THE PLAYER GIRL 261 
 
 XXIV THE PLAY'S CLIMAX 271 
 
 XXV THE SKEIN UNTANGLED 283 
 
 XXVI BACK TO THE ISLAND 295
 
 AN ISLAND GIRL
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 AN ISLAND GIEL 
 
 TTIVIAN lay on the crest of the cliff, listen- 
 ing to the murmur of the waters and the 
 whisperings in the tree tops. In the straits, 
 the breezes were gathering while the waves be- 
 low were striking the shore with a sting in their 
 blow. On the bit of the island beneath her, 
 separating the cliff from the beach, the foliage 
 of the trees was quivering with life. Wander- 
 ing clouds here and there set off the beauty of 
 the blue sky, though the waters were radiant 
 and sparkling, for the face of the sun was un- 
 covered. 
 
 How this girl of eighteen loved it all. As 
 far back as she could remember, from the very 
 
 9
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 beginning of her life, she had been clambering 
 up the narrow, precipitous path to this cliff, 
 and enthroned here, had given herself to the 
 inspiration of the ever changing scene. Vivian 
 had learned the language of the waves and of 
 the winds in the trees. They brought her 
 strange messages from the faraway world she 
 had never seen, the world of which she loved 
 to dream and wonder whether she would ever 
 see. Two miles away, on the road to the Brit- 
 ish Landing, was the old farmhouse which had 
 been her birthplace. She had never known any 
 home but this, and if she sometimes wished to 
 see the marvelous sights in the great cities to 
 the south, it was but a brief ambition, for here 
 in the little island she found her heart content. 
 From her lofty cliff, she could see the little 
 village as it stretched a mile away at the base 
 of Mackinac. She seldom ventured there. 
 Her tasks at home completed, she knew peace 
 when she came through the trees that lined the 
 old road to the rugged peak that lifted its head 
 
 10
 
 AN ISLAND GIRL 
 
 above the waters and shore, the soft odor of 
 the balsams and cedars soothed her spirit. 
 
 Vivian Summers was a dreamer. The few 
 books in the farmhouse were the romantic 
 tales of the great Scotch wizard, and these she 
 had read again and again. They had fur- 
 nished food for her delicate imagination and 
 she rewove them with the strange stories the 
 waves sung to her as she listened from the 
 cliff. But she found her hero in none of the 
 knights of olden story. This lofty place was 
 reserved for her big, handsome, generous 
 brother, Tom. To Vivian, no one was quite so 
 close as this fine, browned, manly fellow. For 
 him and her father and mother her heart was 
 full of affection, even though none of them 
 could ever quite understand her love of solitude 
 or the vivid fancy of which they at times saw 
 flashes. The father and the mother were re- 
 served, contained people without the emotional 
 qualities that characterized their children. 
 
 The stalwart young fellow, far from shared 
 11
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 the quiet spirit that possessed his sister. His 
 work finished, he was away to the village where 
 at every entertainment he was the center of 
 attraction, his merry, contagious laugh reach- 
 ing out and gathering all within hearing in its 
 irresistible grasp. His friends declared him 
 the personification of good fellowship; and he, 
 with his love of the crowd, never pretended to 
 fathom why his beloved sister chose the cliff 
 and the woods of the island instead of the com- 
 pany of the gay, young people at the foot of 
 the hill. He would smooth back her hair, so 
 full of the yellow which the sun beat upon it, 
 and call her his island gypsy. "It is lucky," 
 he would say, "that there is no island bandit, 
 for he certainly would search out your solitary 
 haunts and then where would my blue-eyed lit- 
 tle sister be?" And laughing he would add, 
 1 1 Go back to your dreaming, for if you venture 
 below the men of the island will steal you from 
 me, my own true lady love," and then he would 
 kiss her and hurry away. Tom had been like 
 
 12
 
 AN ISLAND GIRL 
 
 this all her life. No wonder she fancied him 
 as one with the spirit of the knights of old. 
 
 It was of Tom that Vivian was thinking to- 
 day. Her mind refused to run in the usual 
 channel. Of late stories had come to the top 
 of the hill of his infatuation for a girl of the 
 village. This girl was a stranger to the island 
 and little was known of her or of her father, who 
 had come here with her less than a year be- 
 fore. The father, Louis Manette, had rented a 
 small farm near the old Mission House and with 
 his daughter had become part of the life of the 
 village. They had not been on the island long 
 when a Jim Hester appeared and Manette 
 hired him as a helper, though the islanders, 
 busy with the details of their neighbors' affairs, 
 as small communities are wont to be, could 
 scarcely understand why he should need an 
 assistant to help cultivate his few acres. 
 Manette did not attempt to satisfy current 
 curiosity and little could be gleaned by the most 
 inquisitive. It was evident to those who knew 
 
 13
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 the type that Manette was a French-Canadian ; 
 and aside from the fact that he condescended 
 to announce he had come to the island prin- 
 cipally for his health, he kept his lips closed. 
 
 Lettie Manette soon became a part of the 
 social life of the little settlement. She in- 
 herited the dark beauty of her French ancestry 
 and soon the young men were assiduous in their 
 efforts to please. Mr. Manette was not slow 
 to let it be known that this appreciation of his 
 daughter was unwelcome, while she smiled on 
 none until she met Tom. With him it was at 
 once different. She received his attentions 
 with a pleasure she did not try to conceal and 
 this while her father fumed and forbade Tom 
 the house. The news of this disturbed Vivian, 
 who could not understand why any mortal 
 should antagonize her brother. 
 
 Vivian now had a new cause for alarm. 
 Early in the day there had come from the vil- 
 lage, the story of a conflict between Louis 
 Manette and her brother. Soon after Tom had 
 
 14
 
 AN ISLAND GIEL 
 
 reached the dock where he had gone in the 
 morning, he had been approached by Manette, 
 who was plainly resolved on making trouble. 
 Tom had every reason in the world to avoid 
 anything like this with the man and at first 
 tried to conciliate him with fair speech. 
 Manette was not to be put off by kind words 
 and persisted in his offensive behavior. Tom 
 would not be provoked and turned away. As 
 he strode along the dock, he heard a hurried 
 step coming after him, and then a cry from 
 those about him, which was so full of warning, 
 that it could not be disregarded. He turned 
 quickly, to find Louis Manette almost upon him, 
 a vicious looking knife in his hand. 
 
 Tom sprang to one side just as the knife 
 which his enemy held quivering above him 
 descended with a wicked thrust. The younger 
 man's eyes blazed with anger, and grasping 
 Manette by his knife arm, he demanded, 
 ''Would you kill me? Are you beside your- 
 self? I could throw you into the lake with a 
 
 15
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 twist of my wrist, and it looks as if you needed 
 the water to cool your hot blood." He re- 
 leased his hold on Manette and motioned him 
 away. 
 
 It needed more than the suggestion of water 
 to cool his blood, for no sooner was the older 
 man free, than he sprang again at Tom, the 
 knife aimed at the heart. There was only one 
 thing for the young islander to do. He 
 knocked Manette down and wresting the knife 
 from him, threw it into the lake. This was the 
 tale the gossip had brought to the farmhouse. 
 
 As she thought of these things Vivian was 
 possessed with a vague unrest. The surge of 
 the waves on the shore was surcharged with 
 unseen disaster. The whisperings in the tree 
 tops were unhappy in their portent. Vivian 
 had loved a gray day on the lakes when the 
 winds came driving the clouds before and the 
 waves became sheets of lead, surmounted with 
 hoar frost. Somehow this was different. The 
 dirge of the waters was an echo of the uneasi- 
 
 16
 
 AN ISLAND GIRL 
 
 ness in her breast that grew as the groaning 
 mid the trees took on strength. A cloud had 
 passed across the face of the sun. In the north 
 a breeze had sprung up and the moaning in the 
 foliage grew louder. She understood the 
 language of them all but never in her life be- 
 fore had they spoken to her like this. Her 
 heart grew heavy as she listened. A longing 
 for the old music of the leaves seized her, but 
 the storm in the valley below only grew louder. 
 She strained her eyes and when there appeared 
 a tiny speck clambering laboriously up the side 
 of the brown hill that stretched from the hill- 
 side down to the Mission House, she sprang to 
 her feet and held her heart. 
 
 The little black dot was struggling up the 
 steep as if in desperate haste. As the minutes 
 passed it took the form of a man. He at last 
 reached the road on the hill and was then hid 
 from sight by the trees. It was Tom, she was 
 sure of it. Almost leaping down the narrow 
 pathway, she sprang to the road and found him 
 
 17
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 still coming on in mad haste. He reached her, 
 panting with his exertion, his face black with 
 despair, his eyes eager with the spirit of flight. 
 Vivian threw her arms around him crying, 
 "Tom, Tom." 
 
 "Vivian," he said, and he held her at arm's 
 length looking down into her soul, his eyes 
 speaking his agony, "Vivian, I have killed 
 Louis Manettel" 
 
 18
 
 THE ESCAPE
 
 VIVIAN'S CLIFF
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE ESCAPE 
 
 npHOUGH Vivian heard the words of her 
 -*- brother as distinctly as she ever heard any- 
 thing in her life she did not appear to grasp 
 their meaning. She stood with Tom holding 
 her at arm's length and looking down into her 
 eyes, his form trembling with an unspeakable 
 anguish. 
 
 "Vivian, do you hear?" and he shook her al- 
 most roughly, "Vivian, I have killed Louis 
 Manette. ' ' 
 
 He had no need to repeat his declaration. 
 His first words had been going down into her 
 soul, into the very depths of her being. She 
 could feel the despair sink down, down, and it 
 reached to every part of her and enveloped her 
 soul in blackness. Just for a moment there 
 
 21
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 struggled a doubt. She would not, could not 
 believe it ; Tom had not done this, but his fear- 
 ful eyes gave the lie to her hope and she knew 
 the frightful thing was true. And with the 
 realization, her first thought was not of how 
 the deed had been done, nor anything about it 
 but of her brother's safety. So she spoke 
 eagerly, tremulously, "Tom, Tom, you must get 
 away from here, you must get away." 
 
 "My God, Vivian," he cried, "I don't know 
 what to do." 
 
 "Tom," she repeated with vehemence, "you 
 must get away," and then she asked, "Does 
 does anybody know?" 
 
 "Not yet, but they will. It happened this 
 way." 
 
 "There is no time to tell me how it happened. 
 There is only time for one thing, and that for 
 you to get away. Oh, what shall we do!" and 
 the girl wrung her hands piteously. 
 
 "Yes, that is it, what to do," said Tom bit- 
 terly. "God, to think that I should ever have 
 
 22
 
 THE ESCAPE 
 
 the blood of another man on my hands and be 
 a fugitive from the law. God!" He threw 
 himself on the bank by the road and cried out 
 the awful tears of a strong man. Vivian was 
 beside him in an instant, her arms about him, 
 and her voice quivering with a sympathy she 
 could scarcely word, so deeply was she her- 
 self moved. 
 
 "0 Tom, my Tom," she sobbed, "go away, 
 go away." 
 
 "But where?" he cried. 
 
 "Somewhere, anywhere, oh, why has this 
 trouble come?" 
 
 So intent had the brother and sister been that 
 they had taken no note of the approach, of a 
 third party until he was upon them. The new- 
 comer had come around a bend in the road from 
 the top of the island. He was leading the 
 horses that drew a rack heavily loaded with 
 hay. 
 
 He looked with open-eyed wonder at the un- 
 usual sight and was exclaiming just as he was 
 
 23
 
 seen, "Why, Tom, Vivian, what is the matter?" 
 It was George Thorpe, who from boyhood had 
 been Tom's fast friend and no coming could 
 have been so welcome. 
 
 "Haven't yon heard down in the village?" 
 asked Tom. 
 
 "Heard? No, what is the matter?" 
 
 "I have killed Louis Manette." 
 
 Thorpe paled. ' ' Tom, you don 't mean that. ' ' 
 
 "Yes, I have killed him. Would to God it 
 were not true." 
 
 Here Vivian broke in with an appeal to the 
 young farmer who had been one of the few of 
 Tom's friends she had known, "George, help 
 us, help us get him away." 
 
 "Get away or not," interrupted Tom, "I 
 must tell you how it happened. I do not want 
 you to believe I meant to do it. God knows I 
 did not. I must tell someone or I shall lose 
 my mind." 
 
 Thorpe was deeply stirred and he said gently, 
 "Well, Tom, tell us quickly, for if it is not 
 
 24
 
 THE ESCAPE 
 
 known in the village I suppose it soon will be 
 and when we know your story we will know 
 what is best to do." 
 
 Tom began, ' * You know of my love for Lettie 
 Manette and my trouble with her father. That 
 has been the talk of the island and I need 
 not go into that. Well, after the trouble I had 
 earlier in the morning, I made up my mind that 
 I would go and see Manette and see if he 
 wouldn't be reasonable. At least I hoped we 
 might arrive at some understanding so that 
 we would have no more public* brawls. So 
 I went to the house and there found Jim Hester, 
 the hired man, who said that Manette was in 
 the barn and that Lettie was with him. I 
 thought that perhaps it would be well to have 
 the talk with him when Lettie was present and 
 went at once to the barn where I found him, but 
 Lettie was not there. He was very much ex- 
 cited when I came upon him and I surmised 
 had been having a quarrel with Lettie. I 
 had scarcely reached the loft where he was 
 
 25
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 when he commenced to upbraid me in the most 
 violent language and would not listen to a word 
 I had to say. He stung me so that I replied in 
 kind and almost before I knew it we were hav- 
 ing a desperate struggle. Several blows had 
 passed, when one that I gave him sent him stag- 
 gering back, and before I could save him he fell 
 through the trap in the floor and went to the 
 floor below. Horror-stricken with what I had 
 done I stood for a moment and thought I heard 
 him scrambling to his feet and then I heard him 
 with a groan fall back again. I ran to the loft 
 ladder and, descending, found him dead on the 
 floor. In his breast was a pitchfork that had 
 pierced his heart. He must have fallen on it 
 and it had killed him. Almost insane I rushed 
 from the barn and came here as fast as I could 
 come." 
 
 "But, Tom," said George, "this throws a 
 new light on the case. It was an accident that 
 killed him, not the fall." 
 
 "But I was responsible for the accident and 
 26
 
 THE ESCAPE 
 
 then who would believe me ? Everybody knows 
 of the trouble we had." 
 
 Thorpe turned to Vivian, "What do you 
 think Tom ought to do? Shall he stay and 
 take his chances or shall he run away? You 
 are his sister and I think your advice should 
 have some weight with him." 
 
 Vivian hesitated before she answered, "I 
 have never had anything like this to decide be- 
 fore and I am afraid my advice will be mixed 
 with my fears. The word you use, 'chance,' 
 frightens me. I do not want Tom to take any 
 'chance' with injustice. I cannot advise. I 
 must leave it all to him." 
 
 Thorpe turned to Tom again. "Well, old 
 fellow, it seems to be up to you. What do you 
 say?" 
 
 Tom looked across the straits with unseeing 
 eyes, or if they did see, it was some faraway 
 haven of safety they visualized for him. He 
 spoke heavily, "I have nothing to say that I 
 have not said. I do not suppose there is a soul 
 
 27
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 in the village but knows of the attack he made 
 on me early this morning. When his dead 
 body is found in the barn where I was the last 
 to see him alive, who will believe it was an 
 accident? "Who will take my word?" 
 
 "It does look bad, and the dock quarrel 
 makes it worse. If you think best to get away, 
 I will help you. ' ' 
 
 "My true friend!" cried Tom, embracing 
 him, while Vivian looked a piteous joy at the 
 offer of assistance. 
 
 "We must act quickly," added George. "In 
 the first place Hester is likely to go to the barn 
 and find the body and he is no friend of yours 
 and will spread the news quickly. In fact, it 
 is said that he only engaged himself to help 
 Manette because he was your rival for the 
 daughter's affections and wanted to be near 
 her. Now, I'll tell you the very best thing to 
 do. Get in under this load of hay. I am going 
 over to St. Ignace and this is the safest way to 
 carry you over. When the south bound even- 
 
 28
 
 THE ESCAPE 
 
 ing freight goes through St. Ignace, it stops at 
 the crossing. It will be easy for you to jump 
 it and go on to Chicago without being discov- 
 ered. Once you are there, you must make plans 
 for yourself but you will have a good start and 
 I believe you can get away." 
 
 "But this will make trouble for you, 
 George." 
 
 "Never mind me; you do as I tell you. I'll 
 warrant to get you through, and more than 
 that, they will never know I had anything to do 
 with it. Come, get under the hay and we'll get 
 a good start on them, anyway." 
 
 Tom took his sister in his arms and held her 
 for a moment. Vivian tried to be brave, realiz- 
 ing that her brother needed all the encourage- 
 ment she could give him, but the tears would 
 well up and at last she gave way and crying 
 bitterly, let all her weight rest against him. 
 George plucked him by the sleeve. He placed 
 his sister on the bank and leaping upon the rack 
 crawled beneath the hay. He would have said 
 
 29
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 good-by, but the words choked him. His friend 
 took the reins and drove on. Vivian looked 
 dumbly after the wagon as it drew farther 
 away and when it had disappeared in the dis- 
 tance, she threw herself on the grassy mound 
 and cried out the first deep sorrow of her heart. 
 
 30
 
 THE ISLAND DRIVE
 
 CHAPTER in 
 
 IN THE HANDS OF THE LAW 
 
 IN after years, Vivian never could recall the 
 incidents of her journey from the edge of 
 the island to the farmhouse on the road to the 
 British Landing. She could not even remem- 
 ber when she arose and started for home. In 
 a vague way, she could recollect the turmoil and 
 misery that existed in her mind, but she had 
 given no thought to the familiar objects of the 
 road she had so often traversed. Its trees, 
 bushes, rocks, pathways and flowers were less 
 than a mere mass of color to her, they were not 
 there as far as she knew. Her light feet al- 
 most flew as she hurried on, panting for breath, 
 a fitful sob escaping her compressed lips every 
 now and then, her hands clutching her bosom 
 
 33
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 in sore distraction, as if seeking to soothe the 
 pain that was welling up in her heart. 
 
 Poor Vivian, her life had been so free from 
 care and sorrow, and now both had come so sud- 
 denly, so unexpectedly, the burden was heavy 
 to bear. Her tutors had been the trees of the 
 island, the pounding waves that beat its shores, 
 the whisperings of the winds that swept its 
 wooded heights, the majesty of the rising sun, 
 the glory of its setting, and in the lessons of 
 beauty and peace they had taught, there had 
 been no preparation for such an hour as had 
 now come into her life. These teachers, even 
 more than those in the little island school, had 
 molded her into what she was. Their lessons 
 had exalted her imagination and tenderly 
 softened the mind to receive the impressions 
 of Mother Nature; they had not taught her 
 of the harder way of life that comes in some 
 degree to every mortal, to know and to tread. 
 Ever before when Vivian had trod this road 
 with a step as light as her heart, it had been 
 
 34
 
 IN THE HANDS OF THE LAW 
 
 like an aisle in a great cathedral. Its tower- 
 ing walls of living green had been a benediction. 
 The spreading beeches, the noble maples and 
 pine, the fragrant balsam, the dainty birch, the 
 sturdy cedar, all had contributed their share 
 in glorifying the temple whose arch was formed 
 by the overhanging branches. 
 
 But now she sped unthinking of these, past 
 all the old familiar scenes, the parade grounds 
 of the old fort, from whose parapets she had 
 often gazed out upon the straits, Skull Cave 
 with its grewsome memories, the three little 
 cemeteries with their quaintly-inscribed head- 
 stones, the battle ground where her forefathers 
 had fought the British ; all these places so fa- 
 miliar and dear to her were now forgotten. 
 
 At last exhausted, she came to her home. 
 The little farmhouse was at the lower edge of 
 the place where the Americans and British 
 had fought the memorable battle in which Ma- 
 jor Holmes had fallen. Part of this battlefield 
 was now on Mr. Summers' farm. The farm 
 
 35
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 was one of the few on the island, that of George 
 Thorpe being across the way, his home stand- 
 ing a little further up the road. The Thorpe 
 family, who had owned their farm for genera- 
 tions, also had a small piece of land in an al- 
 most hidden little valley that ran near to and 
 below Crooked Tree road. It was from the 
 valley farm George had come with his load of 
 hay for St. Ignace. 
 
 As Vivian approached the house she began 
 to realize for the first time what she must tell 
 her father and mother. She tried to compose 
 herself for the task, knowing full well how 
 hard the blow would strike. Her parents had 
 known little happiness in life. The lot of an 
 island farmer was hard and brought little com- 
 pensation. The summers were short, and the 
 rocky soil grudgingly gave up the fruits that 
 were plucked from it. Most of the joy the Sum- 
 mers had had in life had come from their chil- 
 dren. Vivian turned the knob of the door and 
 entered. She had scarcely done so when she 
 
 36
 
 IN THE HANDS OF THE LAW 
 
 saw that others had anticipated her, and that 
 trouble had taken wings and preceded her. 
 
 Her father was standing by the fireplace, his 
 gray head bowed, his face in his hands. Her 
 mother sat by the window, weeping. In the 
 center of the room stood Bob Collins, the island 
 constable, and near him was his deputy, Elias 
 Graves. Vivian stood but a moment in the 
 doorway, surveying this scene, and then was 
 about to hurry to her mother, when Collins 
 stopped her. 
 
 "Where's your brother?" he demanded. He 
 stood between the girl and her mother, and, 
 without answering, Vivian attempted to pass 
 around him and reach her mother, who had 
 risen to her feet. Collins seized the girl by the 
 arm and said roughly, ' ' See here, this is serious 
 business; where 's your brother?" 
 
 Vivian jerked her arm away, answering, "I'll 
 thank you to keep your hands off me, Kob Col- 
 lins." 
 
 "Well, I'm satisfied you know something 
 37
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 about him, for when you came in that door you 
 plainly showed you had heard of his killing old 
 Manette. Now, tell me where he is." 
 
 The constable was a large man, and the sheer 
 force of his physical presence was emphasized 
 by his words, which did not lack in harshness 
 in their manner of utterance. Yet in the frail, 
 delicate body of the island girl there lived a 
 soul so full of loyalty to those she loved that, 
 overawed and even crushed though she might 
 be, her spirit never so much as quivered in her 
 inflexible allegiance. 
 
 "If I know where my brother is you may be 
 sure I shall not tell you," she said, looking Col- 
 lins in the face. 
 
 "What," roared he, "you defy the law? 
 Girl, this is murder, do you know what that 
 means? And do you know what it means to 
 hide the murderer or to assist him to escape? 
 You'll be getting yourself into hot water." 
 
 The island girl grew white under the contin- 
 38
 
 IN THE HANDS OF THE LAW 
 
 ued browbeating of the rude official. She was 
 not used to ugly words, and the physical pres- 
 ence of the constable as well as the brutality 
 of his voice, were such she felt like shutting her 
 eyes and covering her ears, that she might as 
 far as possible blot him out of sight and 
 sound. But he would not have it so. It was 
 by the emphasizing of his personality, that he 
 had been wont to master others. Brute force 
 was his strongest weapon and he used it, when 
 it seemed necessary, to the naked limit. So the 
 ruffian, with his harsh words uttered, drew 
 nearer to Vivian and reached out, as if he 
 would seize her and shake from her the secret 
 he assumed she possessed. 
 
 Vivian drew back at his approach, but said 
 not a word. She realized that words would 
 not help the situation. 
 
 Mr. Summers took a step forward. "Bob 
 Collins," he said, "whatever my son has done, 
 you have no right to browbeat Vivian. You 
 
 39
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 must not speak to her that way. You have 
 searched the house, and, as I told you, my boy 
 is not here. I'll thank you to go." 
 
 "You seem to forget," returned Collins, " that 
 this girl has given every evidence of having 
 heard of the crime. Doubtless she learned it 
 from the lips of its perpetrator; for Jim Hes- 
 ter, who saw him leave the barn before the kill- 
 ing was found out, says he came up to the top 
 of the island ; and who told her if your son did 
 not?" He turned to Vivian, "I am going to 
 ask you once more where he is hidden." 
 
 "I have nothing to say," steadfastly an- 
 swered the girl. 
 
 "Well, then," declared the constable, "I am 
 going to arrest you as accessary after the 
 fact." 
 
 At this declaration, both Mr. and Mrs. Sum- 
 mers raised their voices in protestation, but 
 Vivian uttered not a word. 
 
 "I'd take you over to St. Ignace now," con- 
 tinued Collins, "but I've got to organize a 
 
 40
 
 IN THE HANDS OF THE LAW 
 
 posse and beat up the island. I'll leave 
 Graves here to look after you and early in the 
 morning over you'll go." 
 
 Mr. Summers again protested, "You have no 
 right to do this, Collins. You are taking the 
 law in your own hands too much. ' ' 
 
 "See here, Ben Summers," said Collins, 
 "murder has been committed and that is no 
 light crime. Now, it is my duty to capture the 
 culprit and everything points to him as your 
 son. Put one finger in the way and you become 
 culpable. That girl knows where he is. She 
 cannot deny it. I therefore arrest her. Until 
 to-morrow she can be kept here. Graves shall 
 stay here to see she is kept secure. But as 
 soon as morning dawns she goes to St. Ignace; 
 and let me see you trying to interfere in any 
 way and you'll go, too. Do you hear, you'll go, 
 too!" 
 
 Vivian, who had listened passively, was now 
 taken to a chamber above the room where Col- 
 lins so roughly asserted himself, and thrust in. 
 
 41
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 She heard the key turn in the lock and her cap- 
 tors descend to the floor below. She sank on 
 her knees by the bed and prayed for her poor 
 brother, a few hours before so light-hearted 
 and bright, now a miserable fugitive from the 
 law. 
 
 42
 
 THE FLIGHT FROM THE HOUSE
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE FLIGHT FROM THE HOUSE 
 
 r I TEE room in which Vivian was held a pris- 
 -*- oner was on the side of the house which 
 overlooked the battlefield. A great tree stood 
 so near the house that its leaves brushed against 
 the window of the room, though one could look 
 through the branches and see the road as it 
 went winding up over the hill. It was a simple, 
 little room, Vivian's own room in fact, and the 
 few articles of furniture it contained did not 
 crowd it, though it was small. 
 
 It was late in the afternoon when the two 
 officers locked the door that made Vivian a pris- 
 oner, and a few moments later she heard Col- 
 lins leaving the house, his loud voice urging the 
 deputy to keep good watch over her. Her 
 thoughts were full of her brother and the possi- 
 bility of his escape. By this time, Thorpe must 
 
 45
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 have reached the mainland, and once there, the 
 wide world was open for the fugitive. 
 
 The hours passed and Vivian at length 
 fell asleep on the little bed, though even in her 
 slumber the events of the day returned 
 and haunted her dreams. As in her wak- 
 ing hours she had had no fear for herself, 
 so now her mind wandered after the course of 
 her wretched brother. As she dreamed the 
 guard admitted her mother, who brought some 
 food, which she placed by the bed without awak- 
 ening the sleeper. Even in her sleep the tears 
 were trickling down her cheeks and a frequent 
 sigh of unutterable sadness added to the an- 
 guish that shook the frame of the poor mother. 
 She tenderly kissed the cheek of her sleeping 
 daughter and quietly left the room. 
 
 "When Vivian awoke it was late in the night ; 
 but the moonbeams that eluded the intervening 
 branches and leaves of the tree and came 
 through the window, were bathing her bed in 
 light. She lay quite still for a while, going 
 
 46
 
 THE FLIGHT FROM THE HOUSE 
 
 over in her waking moments the thoughts that 
 had occupied the hours of her sleep. A loud 
 knock at the front door of the house aroused 
 her from her lethargy, and she heard the heavy 
 tread of Graves as he crossed the floor beneath 
 to respond. A moment later she heard the 
 voice of Collins cutting the still night air, evi- 
 dently in response to a question of his assistant. 
 
 "No, we haven't caught him. It looks as if 
 he had escaped from the island in some way; 
 how, I can't make out, for we've had every 
 point watched." 
 
 Vivian drew a long breath of joy at the words 
 of the constable. It was certain now that Tom 
 was far distant ; the revulsion of feeling almost 
 made her happy. 
 
 Graves made some indistinct answer to Col- 
 lins, who then continued, "They appointed the 
 inquest for nine o'clock in the morning and 
 when we get the girl on the witness stand I 
 rather think we '11 worm some admission out of 
 her that'll fasten the murder on her brother 
 
 47
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 beyond a doubt. It's clear in my mind she 
 has seen him since the morning and knows all 
 about it. When the coroner gets after her, 
 she'll just have to tell." 
 
 For the first time it dawned upon Vivian 
 why they were holding her a prisoner. They 
 believed that Tom had confessed to her and in- 
 tended to force his words from her. 
 
 A trial was a scene from another world than 
 the one in which she had lived and the thought 
 of being placed upon a witness stand and un- 
 dergoing the ordeal of sharp cross-questioning 
 was terrifying. What secret might not an offi- 
 cer of the law drag from her unwilling breast at 
 such a time. The law, with which she had never 
 had aught to do, was a stern and fearful master 
 to her mind. She felt that be as brave as she 
 might, she could not trust herself to be tested 
 by its relentless demands. And so the first 
 thought of flight came to her and with every 
 moment the idea that she must get beyond the 
 power of any inquisitor grew upon her. 
 
 48
 
 THE FLIGHT FEOM THE HOUSE 
 
 Once the thought of escape seized her there 
 was no hesitancy at the project. The door 
 being locked and the way of egress barred be- 
 low, there remained only the window. A stout 
 branch of the tree reaching close to it, offered 
 a chance to gain the trunk and thus the ground. 
 To one as agile as Vivian, there was no diffi- 
 culty here, the only danger she feared being the 
 noise that such a venture might cause. The 
 two men had entered the house and were con- 
 versing in the room below. The necessity of 
 the utmost caution was realized by her, and she 
 pushed up the window slowly and gently, and to 
 her relief, without so much as making a single 
 creak. Climbing upon the window-sill she 
 stood upright without, leaning forward upon 
 the branch which was less than two feet away. 
 She listened for a moment to reassure herself 
 that her captors had not been disturbed, and as 
 she could hear their voices in muffled conversa- 
 tion, she took courage. Even the moon seemed 
 friendly to her venture, for it disappeared be- 
 
 49
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 hind a cloud. Swinging forward with all possi- 
 ble quietness as well as rapidity Vivian 
 reached the branch. Carefully assuring her- 
 self again that she had attracted no atten- 
 tion, she began to work her way toward the 
 trunk of the tree. It was necessary to do this 
 slowly, for the foliage was thick and the break- 
 ing of a twig might arouse the suspicions of the 
 two men. And so with infinite care she at 
 length reached the body of the tree. Here she 
 could not refrain from a sigh of relief; for to 
 slide to the ground was the work of a moment. 
 Grasping the sides of the maple, she quickly 
 slipped to solid earth. Her feet had scarcely 
 touched the ground when she was seized by 
 someone from behind, and as she attempted to 
 scream her fright a hand was tightly pressed 
 over her lips. Then a well-known voice whis- 
 pered in her ear, "Keep still, Vivian, it's 
 George Thorpe." 
 
 50
 
 A REFUGE IN SUGAR LOAF
 
 SUGAR LOAF
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 A REFUGE IN SUGAR LOAF 
 
 another word was spoken until Vivian, 
 leaning partially on Thorpe for support, 
 had reached the road and gone part way up the 
 hill, where, breathless from her exertion, the 
 girl sat down by the roadside to recover the 
 possession that had deserted her when Thorpe 
 had so suddenly come upon her as she descended 
 the tree. Her first words were of her brother ; 
 had he escaped, was he safe, could they capture 
 him? 
 
 The young farmer strove to allay her agita- 
 tion and told her of how, unchallenged, he had 
 reached St. Ignace with Tom effectually con- 
 cealed beneath the hay, where he had remained 
 until they had reached a quiet and unfre- 
 quented spot. It was near the place where the 
 
 53
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 trains stopped for the engines to take up water, 
 and Thorpe had reconnoitered for several hours 
 while Tom remained in concealment. It was 
 after dusk before an opportunity came, but at 
 length a west-bound freight train gave them 
 the chance they so anxiously awaited, and, for- 
 tunately finding a door which easily pried open, 
 Tom was helped aboard by his loyal friend and 
 a few minutes later was being carried west- 
 ward. Vivian listened to all this with avidity, 
 forgetting that she herself was a fugitive from 
 the law. 
 
 "As soon as I could dispose of the hay, and 
 you may be sure I didn't haggle about the 
 price," continued Thorpe, "I hurried back to 
 the island. I had scarcely reached the village 
 when I heard of your arrest. I would have 
 come to the house at once, but I knew it would 
 do no good, while it would probably give rise to 
 a suspicion that I had assisted Tom to get 
 away. As soon as it got late I came, and 
 reached here just as Collins entered the house. 
 
 54
 
 A REFUGE IN SUGAR LOAF 
 
 While I stood under the tree, wondering how I 
 could get word to you of Tom's escape, and so 
 reassure you, I was surprised by your advent 
 from the window and descent to the ground. I 
 could not call to you before you descended for 
 fear I would alarm the men within. So I let 
 you slide into my arms. Now, what is the next 
 step?" 
 
 ' 'I must get away from here. They are going 
 to have the inquest in the morning and try to 
 force me to tell what I know." 
 
 "It's going to be harder to get you away 
 than Tom, I fear," said Thorpe, "besides, is it 
 best for you to go away? Isn't there some 
 other plan?" 
 
 "I never could face a trial," cried Vivian. 
 "I am afraid of their questions. It seems im- 
 possible for them to drag from me a single ad- 
 mission of what I know, and yet I fear, I fear." 
 
 Further conversation was interrupted by a 
 hoarse cry from the house, and looking back, 
 they discovered Collins leaning from the win- 
 
 55
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 dow through which Vivian had escaped. He 
 was holding a lamp above his head and as he 
 peered into the branches of the tree, where he 
 evidently expected to find Vivian, he shouted 
 loudly for his deputy to come to his assistance. 
 
 The commotion at the house urged Thorpe 
 and Vivian to instant resumption of flight and 
 they hurried up the road and over the hill. 
 While there was no indication that they were 
 being followed, they doubtless soon would be, 
 and no time was lost by them in putting dis- 
 tance between themselves and the farmhouse. 
 Moreover, it was important that Thorpe should 
 not be seen with her, for such a discovery would 
 add to the complications. 
 
 "I must get some place to conceal you until 
 I can find a way to get you off the island," he 
 whispered, "but where it will be is more than 
 I can guess. " 
 
 An answer to his problem suddenly loomed 
 up in the darkness. "Sugar Loaf!" ejaculated 
 Thorpe. "It's just the place for you to hide." 
 
 56
 
 A REFUGE IN SUGAR LOAF 
 
 Sugar Loaf, an obelisk of corniferous lime- 
 stone, was one of the wonders of the island. 
 Rising from the surrounding ground, its rugged 
 sides of calcareous rock spoke of an age when 
 either a vast upheaval had lifted its head above 
 its fellows, or when the waters of the lake had 
 covered the island, and as they sunk, had broken 
 down the surrounding masses and left this con- 
 ical pyramid standing alone. An opening some 
 five feet above the ground led into a small 
 room, which legend recited, had been the wig- 
 wam of the great Manitou, when his canoe swept 
 the lake and his red children dwelt upon the 
 island. 
 
 " Sugar Loaf," said Vivian, rather doubt- 
 fully; "it is not the most concealed place on the 
 island." 
 
 "That is one reason why they won't think 
 of you choosing it as a hiding place," replied 
 Thorpe. "It is not a likely spot for one to 
 hide, and I think it will do until I return. That 
 is," he added, "if you are willing to try it." 
 
 57
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 "Of course, I will if you think best, but I 
 cannot help fear that those men will find me 
 here. You will hurry back, won't you?" 
 
 "I'll be back before daybreak," reassured 
 Thorpe, "and I think there is little danger of 
 their searching here. At any rate, not before 
 then. I am going to try and get a boat and 
 row you over to the mainland, and that must be 
 done before the alarm is general." 
 
 Vivian consented to the arrangement without 
 further comment. Her mind was full of the 
 present task of escaping the inquisition of the 
 coroner. For the future she had no plans and 
 indeed gave it no thought. With Thorpe's as- 
 sistance she was soon in the little stony aper- 
 ture. With a few comforting words and prom- 
 ises of speedy return, Thorpe left her, and the 
 girl, now thoroughly exhausted, overcome with 
 fatigue and worry, soon fell asleep on the hard 
 floor of her place of refuge. 
 
 Her companion hastened toward the village, 
 where he hoped to secure either a sail or row- 
 
 58
 
 A REFUGE IN SUGAR LOAF 
 
 boat and without discovery carry the fleeing girl 
 to the mainland. Nor did he intend to leave 
 her there to shift for herself, but rather to stay 
 by her side until he had found a place of safety 
 and comfort, where unmolested she might se- 
 curely stay until the worst of the trouble had 
 passed and a way for the future had opened. 
 
 George Thorpe had never told Vivian that he 
 loved her, while she, having had his friendship 
 all her life, had never thought or dreamed that 
 the boy who had been her brother's chum and 
 her own playmate, even in her earliest memory, 
 had for a long time been determined to win her 
 affection. The young farmer was five years 
 older than Vivian, and when he found the affec- 
 tion of his youth turning into love, he had de- 
 termined to wait until he was sure of her heart 
 before speaking for it. His loyalty to Tom 
 was nothing new. As boys and young men, 
 they were known the length and breadth of the 
 island as fast friends. George was quieter and 
 less fond of the little gayeties of the village 
 
 59
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 than Tom, but lie was every bit as sturdy. His 
 parents had died when he was young, and his 
 patrimony was a farm which, with the excep- 
 tion of the Summers farm and a few other 
 pieces of land, took up nearly every bit of farm 
 land on the island. The responsibility of man- 
 aging and caring for this property gave him 
 less time than most young men of the island 
 for the society of his fellows. 
 
 For a time we will leave Vivian slumbering 
 in the recesses of the great rock, and George 
 Thorpe in his search for a means of flight from 
 the island, and return to the worthy constable 
 Collins and his equally estimable coadjutor, Mr. 
 Graves. When Collins, who was essentially of 
 a suspicious nature, had ascended the stairs of 
 the farmhouse and opened the door to his pris- 
 oner's room, to make sure of her presence, he 
 found that the doubt in which he really had no 
 faith was a truth the girl was gone. It was a 
 moment before he could grasp the fact, for on 
 the ability of the coroner to wrest all that Viv- 
 
 60
 
 A EEFUGE IN SUGAR LOAF 
 
 ian knew from her unwilling lips, Collins had 
 built up all his hopes of conclusive evidence 
 against Tom. In his mind he had pictured a 
 timid girl writhing under the keen cross-ques- 
 tioning of the law and always in the picture 
 there came the personal triumph and vindica- 
 tion for Vivian's arrest, which he had already 
 found did not meet with favor in the eyes of 
 the islanders. They had even laughed at him 
 because the brother had outwitted him and es- 
 caped ; and now to have the sister do the same 
 thing was a cruel blow to his vanity. The open 
 window revealed the way his prisoner had gone, 
 and holding the lamp he carried high above 
 his head he reached far out of the window, 
 eagerly scanning the branches of the trees in 
 evident hope of finding the girl clinging to them, 
 while he lifted his voice in high clamor for the 
 recreant Graves, whom he was now prepared to 
 blame and curse for the escape. 
 
 His shouts not only brought the deputy, but 
 also Mr. and Mrs. Summers, who came wonder- 
 
 61
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 ing what new calamity had befallen them. The 
 sharp questioning of the constable soon re- 
 vealed that neither of the old people had any 
 hand in this startling sequel to the day's doings, 
 or that they even had any knowledge of it. Col- 
 lins was not satisfied, however, until he had 
 searched the house carefully, and when he and 
 Graves had finished this task, he growled out, 
 "Well, Tom Summers is here on the island yet 
 and has helped the girl in this; for she never 
 would have had nerve to do it all by herself. ' ' 
 
 "Where do you suppose they're hiding?" 
 ventured Graves, who was considerably crest- 
 fallen by the escape, which Collins laid en- 
 tirely at his door, claiming it must have hap- 
 pened before his return to the house. 
 
 " Somewhere on the island, and it proves just 
 what I've thought all along, that Summers 
 wasn't able to find a way off. Well, he can't 
 get far with that girl on his hands and I'm for 
 starting right in and trailing them down." 
 
 Graves objected to this, saying that it was 
 62
 
 A EEFUGE IN SUGAR LOAF 
 
 best to go over to the village and organize a 
 party. 
 
 "What! And let them know the girl has 
 slipped through our hands ? Not if I know my- 
 self. You come along." 
 
 Graves was a wretched creature, who had 
 been badgered by Collins so long that he no 
 more had the will to resent his domineering 
 and he followed, hoping by a ready obedience 
 to escape further abuse. 
 
 All the rest of the night the two men scoured 
 the top of the island in search of their prey. 
 Collins was indefatigable and Graves, cringing 
 under the reproofs that constantly poured from 
 his superior's lips, closed his teeth tightly and 
 lent every aid in his hope that he might redeem 
 himself. Just as the stars began to go out and 
 the first tinge of morning gray came across the 
 sky, the two came to the little opening in the 
 woods where, like a sentinel, the Sugar Loaf 
 stood. Worn out with their labors, they both 
 threw themselves on the ground at its base and 
 
 63
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 Collins, completely letting go of his patience, 
 rent the air with curses loud and long at their 
 ill fortune. 
 
 64
 
 VIVIAN OUTWITS HER PURSUERS
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 VIVIAN OUTWITS HEB PURSUERS 
 
 slumbered heavily, unmindful of 
 the passing hours and the delayed return 
 of her companion, all the time her pursuers 
 were steadily approaching her place of refuge. 
 Undisturbed, it is probable she would have 
 slept through the day just breaking, but she 
 was suddenly brought back to consciousness by 
 the sound of harsh tones, and awoke to find that 
 the men whom she sought to elude were at the 
 very door of her hiding place. She recognized 
 their voices at once, and for the moment be- 
 lieved she was discovered. Then realizing that 
 they had not traced her to her place of hiding, 
 but had come upon it by accident, she took hope, 
 Chinking that they might continue on their way 
 
 67
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 without coming into the little apartment of the 
 rock. 
 
 This apartment, which scarcely allowed 
 a person to stand erect, was but a few feet 
 square in space, and afforded no place of con- 
 cealment if these men should come in. It was 
 possible that Thorpe might return, and, recog- 
 nizing the situation, would lead the men away. 
 Vivian was to be disappointed in this, for she 
 heard Collins complaining of the chill of the 
 morning and declaring he was going to 
 enter the chamber where she was hiding, in 
 search of more comfort. Catching hold of the 
 bottom of the entrance, he prepared to lift him- 
 self up and in, and his head and shoulders were 
 already darkening the doorway, when Vivian 
 sprang forward and pushed him back to the 
 ground. The attack was so unexpected that she 
 caught him completely unawares and he fell 
 over Graves, who was back of him, and knock- 
 ing that worthy over, they rolled together to 
 the foot of the little hill, both of them speech- 
 
 68
 
 VIVIAN OUTWITS HER PURSUERS 
 
 less with surprise. They were not long in get- 
 ting to their feet and turned once more toward 
 the rock to find Vivian standing in the opening. 
 About the floor of the little room were bits of the 
 structure which had fallen from time to time 
 from the loosely-woven limestone and the 
 largest of these she had seized and was holding 
 it high above her head. The use she meant to 
 put to it was plainly evident to the men and 
 they hesitated in their advance. 
 
 "You're caught, you're caught," cried Col- 
 lins, who, despite his mishap, was delighted to 
 find his game in so sure a trap. "You're 
 caught and you might as well give up. ' ' 
 
 "Come down out of that," seconded Graves, 
 "or we'll fetch you out." 
 
 "Just you try," replied Vivian defiantly; 
 "just you try and you'll feel this rock against 
 your head." 
 
 "Now, see here," coaxed the constable, 
 "you're not gaining anything by this. We've 
 got you and you might as well come along." 
 
 69
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 With the words he started toward her. The 
 rock quivered in the air above his head and 
 thinking better of it he retreated. 
 
 "Lookee," cried Graves, "if she can use 
 rocks, why can't we?" 
 
 The constable welcomed this suggestion with 
 delight and the two men scurried about the 
 road gathering up stones, while Vivian, alarmed 
 at the turn affairs had taken, disappeared with- 
 in the cavity. It looked as if she was to be 
 captured at last, when suddenly her anxious 
 mind remembered that in a slant of the wall be- 
 hind her there was a large crevice which led 
 out to an opening in the other side of the rock. 
 Few knew of this crevice, for the opening was 
 concealed on the inside by a ledge which jutted 
 out before it and the approach from without 
 was close to a precipitous side of Sugar Loaf 
 which faced a dense wood and was known to 
 only a few. If this opening had been larger, it 
 would probably have been better known, but it 
 was so small that she had never known of any- 
 
 70
 
 VIVIAN OUTWITS HER PURSUERS 
 
 one attempting to get through it; and yet, in 
 this moment of her need, she felt that by this ave- 
 nue was her only way of escape. She dislodged 
 a loose stone which had fallen into the mouth of 
 the crevice, and, without stopping to question 
 her ability to get through the narrow passage 
 which led to the outer world, she rapidly strug- 
 gled into the opening and wrenched her way 
 along. It was only a few feet, and yet on a less 
 urgent occasion the task would have appalled 
 her, but she already heard the rattling of the 
 first stones into the chamber she had just left, 
 and the terrors of capture added to the strength 
 with which she literally wormed herself on and 
 on and out into the open. 
 
 If her enemies had not been afraid of the 
 blow they believed waiting for them in the 
 room she had left, she would never have had the 
 time to have made her escape. It was this 
 fear holding them back that gave her time 
 and she soon was on the opposite face of the 
 rock, from which she softly slid down into 
 
 71
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 the bushes and upon the rocks below. Her 
 dress had been reduced to ribbons in her strug- 
 gle through the passage and numerous bruises 
 showed themselves on the soft skin ; but taking 
 little note of this, she fled into the welcoming 
 forest, whose every byway she knew so well. 
 
 Meanwhile, the men on the other side of the 
 rock, encouraged by no indications of resistance 
 to their bombardment, advanced nearer to the 
 cave and listened. Hearing no sound, they be- 
 lieved one of their stones had taken effect and 
 struck their victim senseless. Venturing nearer 
 and still meeting with no opposition they at 
 length lifted themselves into the cave. For the 
 second time that day they were speechless, gaz- 
 ing at each other in amazement. 
 
 72
 
 AT THE OLD FOET
 
 CHAPTEE VII 
 
 AT THE OLD FOBT 
 
 WHEN Thorpe left Vivian in Sugar Loaf, 
 secure from discovery as he believed, he 
 lost no time in covering the ground between 
 her place of hiding and the old fort on the brow 
 of the island, from whose heights he intended 
 to make his way to the village. There he hoped 
 most speedily to discover a means of transit to 
 the mainland for his charge. Several of his 
 friends had light craft, which he felt at liberty 
 to take, though now he was anxious surrepti- 
 tiously to make use of their property, for if 
 they knew of his voyage across the straits at 
 such an unusual hour, embarrassing questions 
 were sure to follow. It was considerably past 
 midnight. He knew that to make the journey 
 and succeed in returning the boat without dis- 
 
 75
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 covery before daybreak, he would be obliged to 
 work rapidly. The promise of rough weather 
 which the day now past had held out had not 
 been fulfilled. Every cloud had vanished from 
 the sky, which was gemmed with stars, while 
 the moon, drawing aside the dark curtain of the 
 night, lighted his pathway between the long 
 aisles of the trees with a mellow radiance. 
 
 When Thorpe reached the fort grounds, he 
 paused a moment to wipe the perspiration from 
 his brow, for though the night was cool, his 
 rapid pace had made itself felt. From the road 
 where he stopped there were two ways to the 
 winding stairs by which he meant to descend 
 to the village. One of these was across the pa- 
 rade grounds to the rear of the row of the old 
 army buildings. The other was by a narrow 
 path which led directly to the edge of the forti- 
 fications and across the verandas fronting the 
 buildings and extended to the railings which 
 rose from the sheer front of the cliff, prevent- 
 ing the careless stroller from toppling over to 
 
 76
 
 AT THE OLD FOET 
 
 the rock-strewn hill beneath. He chose the lat- 
 ter way, for he wished to use the wide survey of 
 the island and lakes to see if any were astir 
 who might interrupt him in his mission. 
 
 As he stepped upon the veranda and gazed 
 out on the inland seas, what a sight was spread 
 out before him. No song was upon the lips of 
 the quiet waters to-night, but unruffled they 
 stretched in a majestic blue to right and left. 
 Across the straits the green of Bois Blanc rose 
 from the waters, the sands of its uninhabited 
 shores gleaming in the soft moonlight and 
 adding to the calm that seemed to envelope all 
 the unfathomable world. The white light of the 
 stars lent a serenity to the brooding stillness. 
 
 Thorpe silently marveled at this scene, often 
 beheld before, and which always held him in its 
 spell. His mind fevered with the anxieties of 
 the past hours was rested by the loveliness his 
 eye drank in. He looked up into the studded 
 sky and its haunting beauty cooled the fevers 
 of his soul. For a moment he pondered on the 
 
 77
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 significance of the stars, feeling if he could only 
 pierce their depths he might there find the mys- 
 tery of life. It all conspired to strengthen 
 him in his duty to his friends. This was what 
 life was for, to give loyally to your beloved. 
 
 He made his way across the planks that 
 formed the walk and had all but reached the 
 end of the farthest building when he came upon 
 a woman. She was kneeling, her arms resting 
 upon the railing, her gaze fastened upon the 
 waters. His step aroused her almost as soon 
 as he discovered her presence and she sprang 
 up and faced him. It was Lettie Manette. 
 Never had the young French-Canadian girl's 
 comeliness been more striking than now, when 
 it was evident that she was being stirred by 
 the strongest emotions. Her dark beauty 
 shone forth in the distress that possessed her, 
 her bosom heaving in convulsive agony, her 
 eyes wet with the tears she had been shedding. 
 Nor was Thorpe surprised at this, for if woman 
 must needs weep, surely the death of a father 
 
 78
 
 AT THE OLD FOET 
 
 at the hand of a lover may be deemed sufficient 
 cause. He had known Lettie as a strong, de- 
 termined girl, considered by many far too self- 
 willed. She was undoubtedly of remarkable 
 firmness of purpose and resoluteness of will. 
 This was the first time he had ever seen her 
 melted and again he was not surprised, for the 
 adversity of the last few hours might well have 
 softened a heart of iron. Thorpe had believed 
 that the favor she bestowed on Tom was gen- 
 uine, not only because her other suitors had all 
 been given so short a shrift, but because she had 
 continued this favor in the face of her father's 
 opposition, and those who came in touch with 
 Louis Manette were easily convinced he was a 
 hard man to thwart. 
 
 Lettie recognized Thorpe at once and ex- 
 claimed, "Tell me, where is Tom? I must see 
 him!" 
 
 Thorpe hesitated before he replied. He did 
 not wish to complicate matters by revealing the 
 part he had taken in his friend's escape, and he 
 
 79
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 also feared that, though Tom had had the girl's 
 heart", if she once succeeded in tracing him 
 she would not hesitate to turn her father's 
 slayer over to the law. 
 
 While he was thus pondering, she grasped 
 him by the arm and exclaimed, "You are his 
 friend, you must know where he is. Tell 
 me." 
 
 "Even if I know where Tom^is," replied 
 Thorpe, "nothing but evil could come of my 
 telling you. Don 't you see that ? ' ' 
 
 "Ah, Mr. Thorpe, you do not understand. 
 It is imperative that I see him. You must tell 
 me." 
 
 "My poor girl," said Thorpe, "you are dis- 
 tracted by the sad events of the day. Let me 
 urge you to return to your home. You need 
 rest for your body and mind." 
 
 "My God!" cried the girl, "I can never go 
 home, I can never go anywhere until I have 
 seen Tom. Oh, I assure you, Mr. Thorpe, my 
 wish is to do him no harm. I have something 
 
 80
 
 AT THE OLD FOET 
 
 I must tell him. Something he must know. 
 Oh, I beg of you, take me to him. ' ' 
 
 With her last words, the excited girl sank to 
 her knees and supplicated with outstretched 
 hands. 
 
 Thorpe was deeply moved by her distress and 
 raising her from the ground placed her on a 
 bench that ran along the side of the house. He 
 tried to soothe her with comforting words, only 
 to be met again and again with the plea to tell 
 of Tom's whereabouts. His efforts to quiet her 
 being unavailing, he said at length, "Lettie, if I 
 must trust you with a secret I should keep in 
 my own breast, let it be sufficient for you to 
 know he is far from here. In truth, I can tell 
 you no more, for his course is as unknown to 
 me as it is to you." 
 
 The girl staggered to her feet exclaiming, 
 "If this is so, I must go and search all the 
 world for him. I must not wait, I must go at 
 once." 
 
 Thorpe, appalled by her earnestness, cried, 
 81
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 "TVhat is this for? Surely, I hope, not for re- 
 venge. ' ' 
 
 "Revenge!" cried Lettie, and her form 
 shook with suppressed emotion, "Revenge! 
 Ah, how little you know. It is for love." 
 
 "Even then," urged Thorpe, "you cannot 
 leave the island now. Why, your father is not 
 buried yet." 
 
 "I leave the island at once. The dead can- 
 not stop me. Nothing can stop me. I have a 
 duty to the living." 
 
 The girl became more like her usual self as 
 she uttered these words, the meaning of which 
 was fraught with mystery to her companion. 
 She led the way toward the foot of the hill with 
 Thorpe following. She spoke no more to him 
 and when they reached the road that ran along 
 the edge of the island, without a word of fare- 
 well she darted away in the direction of her 
 home and was soon lost from the strained gaze 
 of Thorpe, who hesitated between following her, 
 to seek an interpretation of her words, or to 
 
 82
 
 AT THE OLD FORT 
 
 continue in his search for a boat. He decided 
 on the latter, though some intuition struggling 
 in his mind told him that the meaning of what 
 the girl had said, if known, would be of no small 
 moment. 
 
 His search for a small craft proved a more 
 difficult task than he had anticipated. He went 
 to nook after nook where he knew friends kept 
 their boats, but either they had taken them and 
 were away on some fishing trip, or they were 
 so securely chained that an attempt to break 
 the lock would have been sure to attract the 
 attention he was so anxious to avoid. 
 
 The first glimmer of light was beginning to 
 tinge the eastern sky before he was successful 
 in his quest, and {hen he found a dingey whose 
 seaworthiness was far from promising. He 
 felt too much time had already been lost to war- 
 rant him in seeking further, in fact he began 
 to be doubtful if it were not already too late to 
 get Vivian from the island that day. 
 
 While these thoughts were troubling him he 
 83
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 was not losing any time by stopping to meditate 
 over them, and the boat was already pushing its 
 prow through the water under his steady and 
 swift pull at the oars. He had carefully con- 
 sidered the best point to get Vivian off the is- 
 land and had decided to make the venture at 
 Arch Rock. This place was one of the wonders 
 of the island, a great mass of calcareous stone 
 towering above the bank, along whose side was 
 a precipitous pathway. At this time of the day 
 it was unlikely to be frequented, while its near- 
 ness to Sugar Loaf was a recommendation. 
 Ten minutes after he had secured the boat at 
 this point on the shore he came upon Sugar 
 Loaf. There at the opening to Vivian 's hiding 
 place he found the officers of the law, madly 
 gesticulating and filling the air with acrimoni- 
 ous cries. 
 
 84
 
 THE EESULT OF THE INQUEST
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE RESULT OF THE INQUEST 
 
 WHEN Thorpe found Collins and Graves 
 storming at Sugar Loaf, their actions 
 made it clear to him that though they had seen 
 Vivian she had escaped them in some way. 
 Their words verified this, for they were in- 
 dulging in recriminations, each trying to throw 
 upon the other the blame for their ill-fortune. 
 Before acquainting them with his presence, for 
 they were too enraged to notice anybody, 
 Thorpe had ample time to collect himself, and 
 then, leisurely sauntering forward, he asked 
 what all the trouble was about. Collins, with- 
 out replying to the question, eagerly asked if 
 he had seen the Summers girl. 
 
 "The Summers girl?" replied Thorpe. 
 "Why, I heard that you had her under arrest." 
 
 87
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 "We did that," asserted the constable, "but 
 she has given us the slip. We thought we had 
 her a while ago, for we found her hiding here 
 in Sugar Loaf." 
 
 "Hiding in Sugar Loaf," echoed Thorpe, 
 "and how on earth did she get away from you, 
 if you had her cornered in Sugar Loaf!" 
 
 "The young wildcat kept us away with rocks 
 and when we went to the road to gather some 
 rocks ourselves and play her at her own game, 
 I'll be blowed if she didn't slip out under our 
 very eyes and get away. Thunderation, I don't 
 see how she did it." 
 
 "I know well enough how she did it," growled 
 Graves, "there's no question about that; she's 
 in league with the devil." 
 
 "Enough from you," snarled his superior; 
 "I sometimes think she's in league with you, 
 for I blame you for her escape." 
 
 "And what are you going to do now!" 
 queried Thorpe. 
 
 "There's no use trying to find her now, and
 
 EESULT OF THE INQUEST 
 
 I haven't had a wink of sleep or scarcely a bite 
 for twenty-four hours. I'm going back to the 
 village." 
 
 With a brief good-by, Collins, followed by the 
 crestfallen Graves, strode away toward the 
 town, leaving Thorpe meditating over the new 
 turn affairs had taken. He was as mystified 
 as were the two men at Vivian's success in get- 
 ting away. There could be no harm in investi- 
 gating and he clambered up into the cave. 
 There was nothing unusual there, and after a 
 few minutes he was about to leave when he 
 noticed a bit of cloth clinging to a piece of rock 
 that jutted out from the wall. He knew at 
 once that it was a piece of Vivian's dress. He 
 examined the wall more closely, and behind the 
 jutting rock he found a large opening. He was 
 excited now, for he felt sure he had hit upon 
 the way of the girl's escape. 
 
 When Vivian had gone through the hole 
 several large rocks had been dislodged and 
 had fallen into the inner entrance, choking 
 
 89
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 it. This was fortunate, for otherwise the light 
 which would have entered would probably have 
 acquainted her pursuers with her mode of exit. 
 Thorpe was not long in finding this out, and as 
 soon as he had satisfied himself on this score he 
 went outside, and carefully working his way 
 around the rock, found the place where Vivian 
 had come through. He tried to follow her trail, 
 but once in the woods there was nothing to indi- 
 cate which way she had taken, and believing she 
 would be safe for the day, he decided to go to 
 the village and attend the inquest to be held that 
 morning. When night came he believed he 
 would be able to find her again and carry her 
 to safety, little dreaming that a tiny craft, which 
 one at that moment might have discovered from 
 the highest peak of the island, was rapidly 
 bearing her away to the bosom of the great 
 lake. 
 
 It was almost noon before the inquest was 
 called. The constable and his deputy had 
 spent most of the morning gathering witnesses. 
 
 90
 
 EESULT OF THE INQUEST 
 
 many of them unwilling ones, for though there 
 was no doubt in the minds of the islanders that 
 Tom had committed the murder, their memory 
 was so full of his frank manliness that they hesi- 
 tated at the thought of being used to fasten the 
 crime upon him. 
 
 Collins was much perturbed at not being able 
 to find the dead man's daughter. He had not 
 counted on any trouble in that direction, but 
 when Jim Hester declared she had not been 
 about the house that morning the constable 
 was puzzled. Hester, himself, was anxious 
 about her disappearance, though unable to 
 guess what had become of her. 
 
 The first witnesses called upon were exam- 
 ined as to their knowledge of the ill-feeling be- 
 tween the deceased and Tom Summers. This 
 fact was easily established. Among these were 
 several who were present when Manette had at- 
 tempted to stab Tom and had been knocked 
 down for his pains. Others testified of Man- 
 ette 's determination to come between his daugh- 
 
 91
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 ter and Tom, and of the words that had 
 passed. All the threats seemed to emanate 
 from Manette, but the testimony was sufficient 
 to show that there was no love lost between the 
 two men. 
 
 Jim Hester was the star witness of the day. 
 He told of Tom's coming to the house and ask- 
 ing for Mr. Manette. He said he had directed 
 him to the barn and that Tom had gone there. 
 Later he saw him pass the house, apparently 
 laboring under excitement, but believing noth- 
 ing worse than hard words had passed between 
 the two, he paid no attention to the incident. 
 A little later he had occasion to go to the barn 
 and there he found his employer dead, stabbed 
 to the heart with a pitchfork, which lay by his 
 side. When asked if anyone else was there at 
 the time, he said that Miss Manette entered the 
 barn at the same time he did and shared with 
 him in the discovery. A few other questions 
 were asked concerning details and the case 
 went to the jury. 
 
 92
 
 EESULT OF THE INQUEST 
 
 Thorpe, who listened to the testimony, was 
 dissatisfied with that of Hester. While he 
 could pick no flaws in it, for it fitted in with the 
 story Tom himself had told the day before, yet 
 he had a subtle feeling that there was a note 
 of falsehood about it. He was disgusted at 
 the glib manner in which Hester fastened the 
 crime on Tom, for the man gave the evidence 
 with an all too willing air that seemed to make 
 it a positive pleasure. 
 
 The jury was out but a short time, and the 
 verdict they gave was probably anticipated by 
 everyone on the island. It was that Louis 
 Manette met his death at the hands of Thomas 
 Summers. There was a deep silence not only 
 in the court room but in the streets of the vil- 
 lage, when the verdict was known. There was 
 not a man, woman or child in all Mackinac who 
 had known Tom Summers who did not feel the 
 weight of the sorrow. 
 
 Thorpe went to the parents of his friend 
 at once and as gently as possible told them 
 
 93
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 of the result. He found them greatly dis- 
 turbed at the disappearance of Vivian. He 
 was in a quandary as to how much to tell 
 them. His right to tell them the story of 
 the incident which Tom had told Vivian and 
 himself, appeared doubtful. While it lifted the 
 shadow of murder and made it more like an ac- 
 cident, he shared Tom's fear that in the light of 
 the quarrels that had preceded the death of 
 Manette the jury might accept the admission 
 of the act while it rejected the explanation of 
 the manner in which the dead man had met his 
 fate as a story cleverly concocted by a man who 
 wished to escape the penalty of his crime. If, 
 then, he told them what he knew it might place 
 them in the same position as Vivian, to whom 
 the knowledge of the truth had become a bur- 
 den. But he felt that it was incumbent upon 
 him to lighten their load some, and he told them 
 that Vivian was still in hiding on the island, but 
 that on this very night she was to leave in hopes 
 of being able to join her brother and give him 
 the comfort he so sorely needed. 
 
 94
 
 RESULT OF THE INQUEST 
 
 His mission performed at the Summers, 
 Thorpe crossed to his own home, where he sud- 
 denly realized he was half famished, for he had 
 not eaten that day, and after satisfying his 
 hunger he sought the sleep he had neglected for 
 almost two days. It was nine o'clock at night 
 when he was aroused from his slumber by a 
 servant whom he had directed to awake him at 
 that hour. 
 
 All that night Thorpe wandered over the 
 island in search of Vivian. Every place she 
 was likely to frequent he had visited, but not a 
 trace could he find. Morning found him worn 
 with the labors of the night, but convinced that 
 in some way Vivian had left the island. If she 
 had not he felt that she would have been on the 
 watch for him, and that somewhere during the 
 night they would have met. He returned to his 
 home and for several days worked as one driven 
 by the lash, striving to forget the anxiety he 
 felt for the girl, whom he now realized more 
 than ever held his happiness in her possession. 
 
 95
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 At the end of a week he called his hired man to 
 him and gave him directions concerning the af- 
 fairs of the farm. Having done this he pre- 
 pared to leave the island. He was going to find 
 Vivian. 
 
 96
 
 A BOAT IN THE STRAITS
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 A BOAT IN THE STRAITS 
 
 WHEN Vivian plunged down the side of 
 the steep and into the woods she fully 
 expected to hear the heavy tread of her pur- 
 suers hurrying after her. She did not fear 
 them, though she had when it seemed as if they 
 had her trapped, for she knew every nook and 
 corner of the island and she was confident that 
 now being in the open she had more than a fair 
 chance to elude them. The trees were close 
 together and the underbrush was heavy, but she 
 knew a little by-path that led to one of the 
 main roads, and finding it, she speedily made 
 her way to the road. As she was about to 
 cross, she heard someone running in her direc- 
 tion along the road, and she sank down into 
 the bushes until the footsteps died away in the 
 
 99
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 distance. If she had but peered through the 
 leaves that hid her she would have seen it was 
 the one she was seeking, but Thorpe all uncon- 
 scious that he had been so close to his charge, 
 hurried on, and Vivian did not know it. She 
 was depending so entirely upon him to get 
 her away from the island that she decided to 
 venture to the shore, hoping to find him and 
 lessen the time his coming for her would take. 
 "With this in view, it was important she should 
 reach the water-front as quickly as pos- 
 sible. 
 
 Coming to the bluff, she found herself almost 
 directly back of the old Mission House, the 
 place where she had seen her brother so labori- 
 ously climb the morning before. Though it 
 was near the home of the Manettes, she be- 
 lieved it was still too early, despite the grow- 
 ing light, for anyone to be about, and without 
 hesitating she boldly plunged down the cliff 
 and soon was at the bottom. She passed 
 out into the road and started toward the shore, 
 
 100
 
 when she was violently grasped by the shoul- 
 ders and whirled around to find herself face 
 to face with Lettie Manette. 
 
 Before she could speak, Lettie demanded, 
 "Do you know where Tom has gone? Can you 
 tell me!" 
 
 Vivian had seen Lettie but once before and 
 that was for a few minutes when, with one of 
 the happy crowds from the village, she had 
 come to the farmhouse for Tom. She recog- 
 nized her at once and believing, as Thorpe had 
 at first believed, that she sought the fugitive to 
 give him over to the officers, she kept silent. 
 Her whole attitude so clearly revealed this to 
 the girl who still clutched her, that she hastened 
 to say, "I am not going to harm Tom, believe 
 me, it is for his good I wish to see him." 
 
 The words were so spoken that they were al- 
 most convincing, and Vivian grasping at a last 
 hope, cried, "If you really want to help Tom, 
 get me off the island. The officers are after 
 me to make me testify against him." 
 
 101
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 1 'Make you testify against him," cried the 
 girl, ''why, what can you tell?" 
 
 "They believe Tom told me something 
 about " Vivian stopped short, remembering 
 to whom she was talking. Lettie understood 
 and said, "It is better for both of us to leave 
 the island, and when we get away, if you will 
 trust me and if you know where Tom is, I want 
 you to take me to him." 
 
 "But how can we get away!" 
 
 "If you had come five minutes later I should 
 have been gone. I know how to sail a boat 
 and I have stocked mine for a trip. Will you 
 go with me?" 
 
 Vivian eagerly assented. Though she was 
 half afraid of the girl beside her it seemed 
 best to trust her for the present. She de- 
 spaired of finding Thorpe, and the sun was al- 
 ready mounting above the horizon. Yes, she 
 would go. When this was settled, Lettie lost 
 no time in leading her to the boat, where once 
 seated she spread sail and cast off. Vivian 
 
 102
 
 A BOAT IN THE STRAITS 
 
 sank down in the bow, resting her arm and 
 head upon a seat. Lettie took the helm and 
 steered toward the waters of Lake Michigan. 
 A light breeze filled the sail and the boat glided 
 along through the smooth waters. Lettie 
 shaped the course so that they filled away from 
 the shore out into the middle of the channel. 
 Before they could reach the open beyond, the 
 boat must pass the village and it was important 
 to be as far away from any chance observer as 
 possible. 
 
 Vivian's mind was filled with conflicting 
 emotions as she was carried away from the 
 home she had never left before. At first her 
 heart leaped at the thought that she had es- 
 caped the ordeal of the inquest, but she forgot 
 this as they passed each familiar spot, now 
 plainly revealed in the early morning light. 
 How beautifully the tranquil bluffs rose from 
 the opaline waters ! The sea birds were wheel- 
 ing and screaming about the cliffs, and stand- 
 ing in all its terraced glory was the old fort, 
 
 103
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 its white walls shining with the splendor of the 
 rising sun. Though they were now far out in 
 the channel, the fragrance of the cedars was 
 borne to them on the morning breeze. A hun- 
 dred memories of joyful days spent in the 
 cloistered woods that crowned yonder summits 
 leaped to her mind. A hundred recollections of 
 the island home and of a happy childhood 
 crowded upon her, and all the while the little 
 craft was taking her farther and farther away. 
 When should she see these loved shores again? 
 What trials and sorrows awaited her in the 
 great world beyond? 
 
 The boat hastened on into the waters of 
 Michigan, where the breeze freshened and it 
 bended lower under the sail swelling to the 
 full. The island grew smaller and smaller un- 
 til it became a mere speck upon the horizon 
 and then disappeared. Vivian could not re- 
 press the tears that came welling to her eyes. 
 She felt desolate and alone, her heart heavy 
 with foreboding of the future. 
 
 104
 
 THE HUMBLING OF JIM HESTER
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE HUMBLING OF JIM HESTER 
 
 funeral of Louis Manette was held the 
 day after the inquest. It is still remembered 
 as the most largely attended funeral ever held 
 on the island. Though Manette had made no 
 close friends during the months he had lived 
 among the islanders, the incidents connected 
 with his death, rather than a sense of regret, 
 served to draw the crowds that swarmed his 
 late home to overflowing. The simple folks 
 whose lives were so devoid of sensation wanted 
 to make the most of this one. Both inside and 
 without the house they were busy discussing 
 the events which had so startled them. 
 
 Many were the conjectures concerning the 
 whereabouts of Tom and Vivian, while the new 
 mystery that had been added by the disappear- 
 
 107
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 ance of Lettie furnished fresh fuel for the fire. 
 It was easy to understand why the brother and 
 sister had fled, but why the daughter of the 
 dead man should leave without a word, neg- 
 lecting even the obsequies of her father, was 
 inexplicable. There were not a few ready with 
 surmises, and these, growing in volume on their 
 rounds, would come back to their originators 
 in the form of definite stories, so changed and 
 added to that they were not recognized by their 
 authors as their own children, though they 
 were accepted by them as absolute facts. 
 Many insisted that Tom was still concealed on 
 the island, and one graybeard was very em- 
 phatic in declaring he had either seen Tom or 
 someone very much like Tom in the vicinity 
 of Skull Cave, the night before. Another wise- 
 acre believed all this and declared it was simply 
 another instance of the old saying that a mur- 
 derer could not keep away from the scene of 
 his crime. 
 
 Jim Hester was in special prominence at the 
 108
 
 THE HUMBLING OF JIM HESTER 
 
 funeral. With the departure of Lettie he had 
 taken full charge, and he was respectfully con- 
 ceded the position of chief mourner by the in- 
 terested people who thronged everywhere in and 
 about the house. There were those who thought 
 they could discern under his superintendence an 
 ill-concealed satisfaction. They were not mis- 
 taken. Hester was in truth very well satisfied 
 with the turn events had taken. 
 
 Though it was not known on the island, he 
 had been with the Manettes in upper Canada, 
 and when they came to Mackinac, he had fol- 
 lowed chiefly because he was infatuated with 
 Lettie. The appearance of Tom Summers 
 upon the scene and the ease with which he had 
 won the girl's favor had enraged Hester beyond 
 measure, and it was he who had carried the 
 tales to Manette that had brought about the ill- 
 feeling. Again, it was his testimony before the 
 coroner that had placed the crime at Tom's 
 door, and he was sanguine that with Tom out 
 of the field, he possessed means hidden away in 
 
 109
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 his mind which he meant to use with Lettie if 
 she was intractable. He fully believed that it 
 was because Lettie was afraid he would exert 
 these means that she had fled. 
 
 Such thoughts as these filled the mind of 
 Hester as the funeral cortege wended its way 
 to the little cemetery on the top of the island. 
 The grave of Louis Manette was soon made. 
 Beneath the trees on the wind-swept heights 
 he was left to await the voice that shall sum- 
 mon all to come forth on the day of decision. 
 Hester stood by the grave until the crowd had 
 melted away. Soon they were all gone and he 
 was left in the pleasant silence that pervaded 
 everything. A little headstone near the newly- 
 made grave offered a seat and taking it, he re- 
 flected over his plans for the future. 
 
 The story of his connection with Manette is 
 due the reader. It will give him a glimpse of 
 the dead man's life which was undreamed of by 
 the islanders, and which would have answered 
 the question which many of them had pondered 
 
 110
 
 THE HUMBLING OF JIM HESTEK 
 
 over as to why a stranger should come to Mack- 
 inac and take up farming on the small scale 
 that was necessary there. Such a thing had 
 never been heard of before, the few farmers on 
 the island having been .born there and remained 
 from their love of the place, rather than the 
 rich prospects it held out to them. 
 
 For years Manette had carried on in his 
 Canadian home the business of counterfeiting. 
 He was an adept engraver and his products 
 were puzzling to the most skillful government 
 officials. Every move the veteran criminal 
 made was characterized by the greatest crafti- 
 ness; and not until within the last year had 
 the authorities succeeded in making it so warm 
 for him that discretion suggested a search for 
 new fields. With this in view he had come 
 to Mackinac, though he had not taken up coun- 
 terfeiting, believing it was best to wait until 
 the stir, created by some of his past adven- 
 tures, had died away. 
 
 Lettie had known of her father's occupation, 
 111
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 though she had not shared in it. It had 
 served to wean her away from him, though 
 she had been brought up in the atmosphere 
 of his crimes, and her moral convictions had 
 been somewhat smothered by this, yet the 
 stealth and fraud with which the thing was car- 
 ried on had grown revolting to her as she came 
 to years of understanding. 
 
 Manette had always felt that Lettie might 
 prove an excellent accomplice at the business 
 if she would but be willing, and it was because 
 of this hope he had repelled the attentions that 
 were bestowed on her by Tom. His need for 
 a companion in his enterprises had been met 
 by Hester. With him he had been associ- 
 ated for several years. When he had seen 
 the attraction that Lettie had possessed for 
 Hester, he had welcomed it, for through a 
 union of the two he believed that his daugh- 
 ter might ultimately be brought to give the 
 valuable assistance to his schemes of which 
 he had always believed her capable. If 
 
 112 

 
 THE HUMBLING OF JIM HESTER 
 
 Manette had been a less ill-tempered man, his 
 natural caution which had been largely devel- 
 oped of necessity would have led him to have 
 taken other means than open enmity to have 
 ridden himself of Tom, but his rage was so 
 great at the idea that the young islander was 
 going to thwart him in his plans that he could 
 not contain himself. His short-sightedness 
 had resulted in the tragedy which had cost him 
 his life. 
 
 Hester thought over these things as he 
 formed his plans for the future. He was free 
 to go out into the world and find the girl. 
 Despite the suspicions that had grown up 
 around her father in their old home, Hester 
 knew she had friends in the little Canadian 
 fishing town, and he was fully persuaded in his 
 own mind that Lettie had fled there, hoping to 
 find in its obscurity freedom from his pres- 
 ence. Hester had always known that Lettie 
 hated him. Now he believed she feared him. 
 He smiled at the thought. He was going to 
 
 113
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 make this girl who had always been so resolute 
 cringe to his will. 
 
 A quick step along the road caught his ear 
 and looking up, he saw George Thorpe passing. 
 Thorpe was one of the few people on the island 
 who had not appeared at the funeral. Hester 
 knew that it was his friendship for the Sum- 
 mers that had kept him away, and he also 
 knew that much of the sympathy that had been 
 generated in the village for Tom, since the 
 catastrophe, had been through the influence of 
 Thorpe. An evil spirit within prompted him 
 to taunt Thorpe and vaulting the picket fence 
 that separated the graveyard from the road 
 he sneered, "Good-day to you, Thorpe, aren't 
 you lonesome without your old friends ?" 
 
 Thorpe had no desire to quarrel with the 
 fellow, but the covert insinuation touched his 
 loyalty to the quick. "Very much so,'* he re- 
 sponded, "especially when I consider the scant 
 material for association they left behind." 
 
 Hester, taken back by the readiness with 
 114
 
 THE HUMBLING OF JIM HESTER 
 
 which his meanness had been received, replied, 
 "Well, if a man prefers an assassin for a com- 
 panion I suppose it is his own business." 
 
 "It may indeed be his own business," coolly 
 returned Thorpe, "but there are those in this 
 neighborhood who cannot refrain from trying 
 to make it theirs." 
 
 "Birds of a feather, you know," weakly re- 
 plied Hester. 
 
 "Oh, I don't notice any other buzzards 
 around here," said Thorpe. 
 
 Hester began to feel uncomfortable. Per- 
 haps he had better have stayed on the other side 
 of the fence. In his anger he accepted the 
 designation, "A buzzard at least doesn't kill." 
 
 Thorpe cheerily assented to this, "Ah, I see 
 you are acquainted with the habits of the bird. 
 You know, of course, that craven-like he slinks 
 far away until the deed is done and then picks 
 the bones of the dead." 
 
 The fling sank into Hester's marrow. He 
 launched at Thorpe with a vicious blow. 
 
 115
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 Thorpe received him gladly. He was con- 
 vinced that the fellow needed a sound thrash- 
 ing, and he felt that it was within his power 
 to give it to him. Hester, who knew that 
 Thorpe was physically his superior, had not 
 meant to be drawn into a contest of this kind, 
 and he never forgave himself afterward that 
 he had allowed his anger to make him forget 
 his resolution. His opponent took advantage 
 of the opportunity and administered a chastise- 
 ment that did not cease until he was beseeched 
 for mercy. 
 
 11 Hereafter be more polite when you address 
 your betters," admonished Thorpe, who then 
 went his way over the hill, leaving Hester nurs- 
 ing his wounds, hot with the vengefulness he 
 dared not express. 
 
 116
 
 'THE LITTLE EVA"
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 "THE LITTLE EVA" 
 
 ADMIRAL PETER SIMMONS paced the 
 deck of his craft, The Little Eva, in 
 a rage. A face well adapted to the smiles it 
 usually wore was now surmounted by a frown, 
 while his portly form, ordinarily the personi- 
 fication of comfortable satisfaction, was shaken 
 with anger. Never, since he had become an 
 admiral on the great lake the year before, had 
 he given way to wrath, which now filled him 
 to the full. Occasionally he stopped in his 
 tracks and gave vent to maledictions which all 
 seemed to be directed at an invisible female, 
 Eliza by name. 
 
 A wholesome looking woman came up from 
 the cabin, and as she witnessed his gyrations, 
 exclaimed, "There now, Admiral, nothing can 
 
 119
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 be helped by taking on that way. Calm your- 
 self and you will be better able to find a way 
 out of the difficulty." 
 
 "Mrs. Simmons," said the Admiral, with con- 
 siderable emphasis, "Mrs. Peter Simmons, you 
 are calm enough. Will you please find the 
 way?" 
 
 "Now, Peter," soothingly replied his wife, "I 
 will leave that to you. You are the manager. 
 You always have found a way. You will do it 
 now." 
 
 This tribute to his astuteness mollified the 
 Admiral not a bit. It was a time when more 
 than diplomacy was evidently necessary to 
 pacify the substantial looking man, whose heel 
 gave out a sharper crunch, each time it came in 
 contact with the decks. So Mrs. Simmons dis- 
 appeared in the cabin, without further attempt, 
 and the storm continued. 
 
 "I wish," he cried, "I wish there had been 
 a hole in the ice and she'd gone through. It 
 would have been no more than she deserved." 
 
 120
 
 "THE LITTLE EVA" 
 
 Then after a pause, "It's a pity the blood- 
 hounds didn't catch her, it is indeed. If I was 
 old Harriet Stowe you better believe I'd have 
 fixed her." 
 
 Suddenly he turned and looking up, caught 
 the man in the wheel-house with a broad grin 
 on his face. "That's right, that's right," he 
 roared. "No sympathy for me on board this 
 boat. Here we are with an important engage- 
 ment at our next stop and no Eliza; and you 
 there grinning at me like the skeleton of a 
 skinned cat." 
 
 The wheel-man made no answer, though he 
 did try to coerce his face into solemnity, 
 and the admiral went forward and throwing 
 himself into a chair moodily gazed down 
 into the water as if contemplating self-de- 
 struction. 
 
 Vessels fearfully and wonderfully made had 
 plowed the waters of old Michigan, but if 
 a sister ship to The Little Eva wetted her sides 
 there, the unsalted sea remembered it not. 
 
 121
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 Her crew was recruited not from the hoary- 
 headed, grimy-faced men known as lake sail- 
 ors, but from those who were wont to tread 
 the boards of the stage rather than those of a 
 ship. Her history as well as that of Peter 
 Simmons, her owner, and by courtesy called, 
 The Admiral, was known along the lake shore. 
 Simmons had never known any life but that 
 of an actor. He was proud to tell of his debut 
 at the tender age of three years, and how he 
 had appeared as one of the children of the 
 memorable village of Falling Waters. That 
 was several decades ago, but through the strife 
 and conflict of life, and Simmons had known 
 little else, he had wooed fortune only through 
 the art of the thespian. In his younger years, 
 when a more rugged school of acting was in 
 favor than now obtained, he had had consider- 
 able success. For the last decade his triumphs 
 had become less and less, until a combination of 
 this misfortune, together with a grip of hard 
 times which had swept the country, carried him 
 
 122
 
 "THE LITTLE EVA" 
 
 off his feet and left him bereft of fortune to 
 begin life all over again. 
 
 His wife, who had shared all his vicissitudes 
 without a murmur, cheered him and his own 
 sunny nature warmed to life the spark of cour- 
 age still hidden in his heart, and gathering a 
 company of barn-stormers he set about pro- 
 ducing what he denominated on the bills as 
 "A grand and satisfying presentation of the 
 noble, moral drama, Uncle Tom's Cabin." 
 He shared the conviction of most actors that 
 on the judgment day someone would have to 
 kill "Uncle Tom" with an ax and this, with 
 the fact that there were no author's royalties 
 to pay, made it a welcome vehicle to retrieve his 
 fortunes which had so completely waned. He 
 himself, not satisfied with the proud position 
 of owner and stage manager of the company, 
 also preempted the title role and appeared 
 nightly as well as at several matinees as Uncle 
 Tom. Mrs. Simmons appeared as Aunt 
 Ophelia at one time during the evening and 
 
 123
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 later as Emmeline. Timothy Holcomb, who 
 was at present presiding at the wheel, not to 
 be outdone, enacted the triple roles of George 
 Harris, Mr. St. Clair and Simon Legree. A 
 sister of Mrs. Simmons was satisfied with the 
 part of Topsy, while Lawyer Marks, Phineas 
 Fletcher, Eliza, Little Eva, and some dozen 
 other characters in the drama were divided 
 up between a half dozen, who glided from part 
 to part with all the grace and celerity of the 
 lightning change artist. 
 
 Despite all this display of brilliancy, Mr. 
 Simmons and his company had had no great 
 success during their first seasons, and they 
 had simply clung to Mrs. Stowe's creation for 
 the same reason the drowning man clings to 
 the straw; there was nothing else to cling to. 
 Two years before the time of which we write, 
 a change had come in the tide of ill-fortune 
 that had threatened for so long to devour Mr. 
 Simmons and all his belongings. A pious and 
 rich uncle of his had died, and though he willed 
 
 124
 
 "THE LITTLE EVA" 
 
 his fortune to found a college that he believed 
 would make the name of Thaddeus Simmons 
 refulgent to the youth of all succeeding genera- 
 tions, he did not forget his nephew, whose per- 
 son and profession he had, to say the least, 
 held in the deepest distrust. At one time the 
 deceased had been connected with a dredging 
 company, and though he had severed his rela- 
 tions with the firm long before for some rea- 
 son, now never to be discovered, an old dredg- 
 ing scow remained in his possession. This he 
 left to his nephew with the worthy wish that 
 with it he might earn a more honest livelihood 
 than he was doing around the country in an 
 occupation that reeked with sin. 
 
 It so happened that the same mail that 
 brought Mr. Simmons news of the loss of his 
 valued relative was a messenger of a similar 
 import to Mrs. Simmons. She, too, had an 
 uncle, though he was neither rich nor pious. 
 He had departed this life and made her his sole 
 heir. Her inheritance consisted of a saw-mill 
 
 125
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 some few miles out of Chicago, in a suburb 
 where it was a crime to cut down a tree and 
 consequently business in the saw-mill line was 
 dull. Moreover, the saw-mill was on leased 
 ground, the lease of which had just expired. 
 
 An inspection of the property revealed that 
 the only things connected with the business that 
 were worth anything were the engine and boiler 
 of the saw-mill, and then it was that Mr. Sim- 
 mons was struck with a happy thought. A 
 careful examination of the dredge scow of 
 which he had become the owner showed it was 
 fifty feet long by twenty-four feet wide and 
 had a depth of some six or seven feet. The 
 first thing Mr. Simmons did, or Admiral Sim- 
 mons, as he was hereafter to be known on the 
 lake, was to have the saw-mill engine and boiler 
 brought to the slip in the Chicago River where 
 the scow lay, and after planking the hull he 
 placed the machinery in the stern. He then 
 procured an old paddle wheel, from where is a 
 mystery to this day, and it required no great 
 
 126
 
 "THE LITTLE EVA" 
 
 expert in ship carpentering to make the proper 
 connection with the engine. Then a deck was 
 built across the heavy beams of the boat, which 
 until now had been the only pathway across it, 
 and upon this he built a deckhouse. The deck- 
 house he fitted up with bunks and, rude though 
 it was, it was not entirely lacking in comfort. 
 On top of the deckhouse, which was in the back 
 part of the transformed scow, was the pilot 
 house. The rest of the space below the deck 
 was fitted up as a culinary department and 
 a baggage room. The dining room was the 
 free, open deck, on which was erected a shaky 
 table on folding legs just before each meal and 
 which at these times always had to be dried; 
 for in the interim it was carefully folded up 
 and hung over the side of the boat in the water. 
 All this done, Simmons held a christening 
 party and The Little Eva came into existence. 
 From this time Simmons was no longer the 
 slave of hard-hearted corporations that re- 
 quired not a tenth but nearly all of his posses- 
 
 127
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 sions to transport him and his company from 
 place to place. The Little Eva, blessed craft, 
 was gently and sometimes tediously propelled 
 from place to place along the entire shore line 
 of all the lakes; and Simmons could now look 
 ahead and see the flood tide of prosperity bear- 
 ing down upon him. 
 
 His genial soul had warmed and mellowed 
 under all this and the first shadow to cross his 
 horizon was to find that at the last stopping 
 place the leading lady of his company, as 
 she insisted on calling herself, one May Heggs 
 by name, had fallen in love at sight with a 
 butcher's clerk, which passion being recipro- 
 cated, had promptly led to matrimony, leav- 
 ing the company without an Eliza to nightly 
 cross the icy Ohio chased by a lonely St. 
 Bernard, which was down on the bills as "a 
 band of man-eating bloodhounds." The very 
 next port was one where he had always been 
 warmly received, and suddenly to lose one 
 of the most valued members of his troop at 
 
 128
 
 "THE LITTLE EVA" 
 
 this very point was too much for his good pa- 
 tience. Accordingly he stormed, while the rest 
 of the people on board retreated to the cabin 
 to conceal the amusement he occasioned by the 
 unique method of displaying his wrath. 
 Timothy Holcomb, the only one on the boat 
 who knew how to do a trick at the wheel, was 
 alone compelled to conceal his merriment, 
 while he continued in the presence of his su- 
 perior officer in naval rank, and his star in the 
 dramatic world. 
 
 The Admiral continued to gaze steadfastly 
 into the waters until his attention was attracted 
 by a small sailboat bearing down upon The 
 Little Eva. Its one sail effectually concealed 
 its occupants. So distraught was Simmons with 
 his troubles that he probably would not have 
 taken note of the boat at all if it had continued 
 on its passage without coming directly toward 
 his boat. Even after he had noticed it, he took 
 it for granted that the boat would directly bear 
 away, until suddenly a puff of wind brought 
 
 129
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 it so rapidly forward that he saw nothing could 
 prevent a collision. He leaped to his feet in- 
 tending to warn the intruder of the danger, 
 when the sail veered slightly to one side and 
 to his amazement he saw fast asleep in the bot- 
 tom of the boat two comely young women. 
 
 130
 
 HARVEST TIME IN A RIVER CITY
 
 THE INDIAN TRAIL
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 HARVEST TIME IN A RIVER CITY 
 
 IT was harvesting time and the Iowa river 
 cities were filled with the men who early 
 in the season had commenced their labors far 
 to the south of St. Louis. As the great fields 
 ripened, they had worked their way northward, 
 welcomed by the thrifty farmers, who, without 
 this slowly-moving army, would have been un- 
 able to gather the fruits of seedtime. The 
 Mississippi was the avenue used by these har- 
 vest hands to make their way from place to 
 place, and as fast as the yellow grain and 
 golden corn was safely stored away under roof 
 they pressed on to the North, where other 
 fields were ripening and awaiting their com- 
 ing. 
 
 Where this multitude came from, when it ap- 
 133
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 peared in the early-maturing plantation of the 
 Southland, and where it went to, when the last 
 mellow wealth of the northern fields was gath- 
 ered in, was a mystery. It was almost as if it 
 was made up of men of hibernal natures, who, 
 the summer's work being done, retired to some 
 hidden nook in Nature's domain to slumber 
 through the white days of winter. That it was 
 cosmopolitan was written on the face of it. 
 The jargon of every nation was the tongue of 
 this army. The yellow heads of the Scandi- 
 navian peninsula, the swarthy-skinned men of 
 Italy, the bewhiskered Buss, the explosive Lux- 
 emburger, and the velvety-skinned Lithuanian, 
 gregariously swarmed the valley, and rubbed 
 elbows with the cockney whose ear was at- 
 tuned to the Bow Bells, the rollicking, roister- 
 ing son of Erin, and the raw-bone canny man 
 who hailed from the land of the heather. Nor 
 was the ebony face of the man in black wanting 
 to complete this congress of nations. 
 
 Here in the vast mass of tumid humanity a 
 134
 
 HARVEST TIME IN A RIVER CITY 
 
 man might be as easily lost from his fellows 
 as in a trackless forest. Divided for weeks 
 over great stretches of country, and coming 
 together again to move onward to other fields 
 of labor, the identity of the individual was lost. 
 It was only when these men stopped for what 
 might be termed a breathing spell, in some of 
 these cities that bordered the Father of Waters, 
 that now and then a chance passer-by, a traveler 
 mayhap from across the seas, would remember 
 in the face of one of the men a look he had seen 
 years before in the features of a scion of some 
 ducal house or a resemblance to a man whose 
 place of power had crumbled to ashes beneath 
 some long-forgotten disaster. But such rec- 
 ognitions as these were few. For the most 
 part these men were not the adventurous spirits 
 that have known the satin and silk of life and 
 have left it for the freedom of the road, but 
 rather men of humble mind and mien, whose 
 mission in life had always been, and always 
 would be, to be numbered among the hewers of 
 
 135
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 wood and the drawers of water. And so they 
 were not all gentle of manner, nor nice in ac- 
 tion. When they found themselves on a Sun- 
 day in one of these river cities, many of them 
 sought to free themselves from the spirit 
 that bound them to the laborious drudging of 
 the harvest and obtain relaxation in roister- 
 ing. 
 
 It was among such surroundings that Tom 
 Summers found himself at the end of his jour- 
 ney in the freight car. The train of which 
 the car was a part had not gone to Chicago, 
 as his sister expected, but had crossed Michi- 
 gan to Duluth, and then had turned southward 
 and had left the car with a number of others 
 at Eavenport, where it was to be filled with 
 part of the harvest the men were now about 
 to go out into the surrounding country to 
 gather. Tom was fortunate enough to get 
 away from the vicinity of the freight yards 
 without attracting attention; and discovering 
 the meaning of the large number of men in the 
 
 136
 
 HAEVEST TIME IN A EIVEE CITY 
 
 city, he determined to join one of the harvesting 
 gangs. 
 
 When he had left the island he had no 
 money, but Thorpe had given him all he had 
 when he had boarded the train at St. Ignace. 
 This amounted to eighteen dollars. Thorpe 
 had also procured for him a large bundle 
 of food, so not having suffered from hunger 
 he was but little fatigued by his journey. It 
 had taken two days for the freight train to 
 reach Eavenport, and though he felt stiff be- 
 cause he had lacked exercise, Tom was really 
 in fine condition. The freshening air brought 
 back hope, and his spirits began to rise. He 
 believed that with the wide world before him 
 there was little to fear. Surely he was now 
 where recognition was well-nigh impossible. 
 He was roused from these reveries by a hand 
 touching his shoulder while a voice exclaimed, 
 "I want you!" 
 
 Tom turned, a flood of dread forebodings 
 rushing through his mind. It was a police- 
 
 137
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 man. For a moment he was speechless, star- 
 ing stupidly at the officer. "I want you," re- 
 peated the latter, releasing his hold on the 
 shoulder and grasping Tom by the arm. 
 "Come along with me." 
 
 "What for!" stammered Tom. 
 
 * ' Never you mind. You come with me, ' ' and 
 the invitation was emphasized this time by a 
 violent jerk. The thought of a struggle and 
 flight came to Tom and it is probable that the 
 officer saw the glint of it in his eye, for he 
 called to another policeman near by. "This 
 fellow is a bad one," he said. "Give me a 
 hand." Between them a pair of handcuffs 
 were slipped over Tom's wrists, and without 
 further ado he was taken to the city jail. 
 
 There had been no question in Tom's mind 
 but that his arrest had been ordered from 
 Michigan and that he was charged with mur- 
 der. Luckily no word of this escaped his lips 
 and when he was thrust into a cell, which was 
 already occupied by several other men, he soon 
 
 138
 
 HARVEST TIME IN A RIVER CITY 
 
 found that it was the custom of the local au- 
 thorities to hold an annual round-up during 
 the harvest season among the strangers in the 
 town. He was relieved to find that they were 
 generally ordered out of town early the next 
 morning. He knew enough about the practices 
 of the law to know that, if he had been accused 
 of anything as serious as murder, he would not 
 have been placed in a cell with others but would 
 have been confined alone. 
 
 When the men were first brought in they 
 were not entered as arrests, but after some 
 twenty or thirty were collected from the 
 streets, they were all taken before the police 
 sergeant, their names booked and their per- 
 sons searched. The charge against them was 
 vagrancy. At this Tom submitted will- 
 ingly to the search, for he thought that 
 when it was discovered that he was possessed 
 of eighteen dollars they would release him at 
 once. He was disappointed, for the sergeant 
 put the money away in a drawer of his desk, 
 
 139
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 as he entered Tom under the name of John 
 White, the first that came to his mind when 
 asked. Tom had been quiet under the ques- 
 tioning, for the thought that he might in 
 some way betray that he was already a fugi- 
 tive from the law, made him ready to endure 
 the lesser injustice that he might not be dis- 
 covered. It was when he found that, though 
 he was possessed of money and had committed 
 no overt act, the police were still going to 
 hold him a prisoner until the morning, that the 
 wrong caused him to forget his caution and 
 impelled him to cry out, "I am no vagabond. 
 You see that I have money. I am an American 
 citizen. What right have you to hold me 
 here?" 
 
 "You may tell that to the judge in the morn- 
 ing, " replied the sergeant, and unwilling to 
 listen either to Tom or several others who were 
 expostulating, he ordered them all to be recon- 
 ducted to the cells. 
 
 Tom's cell mates took the incident in surly 
 140
 
 HAEVEST TIME IN A RIVER CITY 
 
 but uncomplaining manner. This was not 
 their first season as harvest hands, and evi- 
 dently they were not unacquainted with the 
 customs of the police, even if they had never 
 been victims themselves heretofore. Tom was 
 divided in his mind as to the best course to 
 pursue. His natural indignation at his arrest 
 made him wish to tell the judge of how un- 
 justly he had been treated. Then there was the 
 feeling that he would better be careful lest he 
 awake inquiries that might spell calamity for 
 him. His judgment told him that as the court 
 would undoubtedly free him it would be best 
 to bear these present indignities and go on his 
 way satisfied because a severer fate had not been 
 his. 
 
 Court was called early the next morning. 
 The bailiffs who hurried the prisoners before 
 the judge neglected to give them the coffee and 
 bread that was customary. Tom did not be- 
 wail this. The sooner he was free to pursue 
 his way, the happier he would be. 
 
 141
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 The prisoners were arraigned in a half-cir- 
 cle before the bench and it was evident, from 
 the preparations that the bailiffs were making, 
 that their trials were to be brief. When all was 
 ready the judge hurried in from an ante-room 
 and taking his seat the administration of jus- 
 tice began. "First case," called the judge. 
 " James Brown, vagrancy, your honor," called 
 the bailiff. "What are the facts!" asked the 
 judge. "This man was found wandering about 
 town. He had no money and no residence." 
 "Two hours to leave town or to jail you go," 
 declared the judge. "Next." 
 
 Tom stood eighth in line and listened to a 
 repetition of this in every instance. Not once 
 was one of the defendants asked or allowed to 
 give testimony. One man who attempted to 
 speak was quickly silenced and the autocrat of 
 the bench snarled, "One word out of you and 
 you go to jail now." To one who had a natural 
 instinct for justice as strongly developed as 
 Tom the scene was sickening, but again caution 
 
 142
 
 HARVEST TIME IN A RIVER CITY 
 
 warned him silently to receive his banishment. 
 The testimony varied for his case. "This 
 man, John White, your honor," said the 
 bailiff, "is a stranger here without work. We 
 found eighteen dollars on his person, but we 
 booked him as a vagrant." 
 
 "Fined sixteen dollars," snapped the judge. 
 "Next." 
 
 For the first time it dawned upon Tom what 
 his arrest had meant. With the fear that the 
 citizens of Ravenport professed to have of the 
 rough spirits among the harvesters, there was 
 united a spirit of greed on the part of the city 
 authorities to enrich their local treasury at the 
 expense of these men. Those who had ex- 
 pended their money in the town were warned 
 to leave at once. There was nothing more to 
 be gained from them. Those who still retained 
 a portion of their money were relieved of it in 
 a manner that would have caused a blush of 
 shame to mantle the face of an everyday foot- 
 pad. The wickedness of it rankled in Tom's 
 
 143
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 breast, but though he was impulsive to a degree, 
 he was not so precipitate as to forget that in 
 the hands of such men as these he was as a 
 shuttlecock at the mercy of a battledore, and 
 so he held his peace. True, he must resume 
 his journey with almost all of his scanty store 
 gone, for when his fine was paid but two of his 
 eighteen dollars remained. Even here he 
 counted without a knowledge of the crafty 
 minds that had reckoned before him. The two 
 dollars that remained after the fine was paid 
 were also retained as the costs of the court. 
 And so, when at length he was released, thank- 
 ful that he had escaped with his life from such 
 a nest of scorpions, he set out on the highway 
 penniless, hungry and alone. 
 
 144
 
 IN A NEW WORLD
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 IN A NEW WOBLD 
 
 , if that doesn't beat Moses in the 
 bullrushes," ejaculated Admiral Pe- 
 ter Simmons, as he looked down upon the 
 sleepers in the sailboat. The next moment the 
 little craft struck the side of The Little Eva and 
 the jar awoke the two girls, who, on opening 
 their eyes, saw Admiral Simmons trying to 
 steady their boat by grasping at the mast and 
 at the same time calling to his crew to stop the 
 engine. If The Little Eva had been making 
 much headway the sailboat would have been in- 
 evitably overturned, but speed was not one of 
 the strong points of The Little Eva and it re- 
 quired but little effort to stop her altogether. 
 Admiral Simmons felt that here was an op- 
 portunity to vindicate his seamanship, and it 
 
 147
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 was almost in a twinkling that he had these 
 two daughters of the unsalted seas upon his 
 deck and their boat trailing behind The Little 
 Eva, securely fastened by a stout rope. 
 
 "Well," said the admiral as he good-natur- 
 edly surveyed the two young women standing 
 on his deck, "it looks to me as if we'll have to 
 call a court-martial. Asleep at your post, 
 hey?" 
 
 Lettie, for it is needless to tell the reader 
 that the castaways were Lettie and Vivian, 
 replied, "We are indeed grateful to you, 
 sir. We had a rough sea all through last night, 
 and it kept both of us awake to manage our 
 boat. This morning we planned to take turn- 
 about at sleeping, but the exhaustion of the 
 night was too much for us and we both must 
 have fallen asleep." 
 
 "What port do you hail from?" asked the 
 Admiral, who delighted in the nomenclature of 
 the sea. An answer to this question was saved 
 them by Mrs. Simmons, who bustled forward 
 
 148
 
 IN A NEW WORLD 
 
 exclaiming, "Peter Simmons, don't you see 
 these poor girls are weak with the cold? Come 
 right down into the cabin. I'm going to put 
 you both to bed and warm you up. The idea 
 of being out all night in that topsy-turvy sail- 
 boat." 
 
 In truth they had spent two nights in the 
 boat. It was the second morning since the lit- 
 tle craft had sailed away from the island. Let- 
 tie had stocked the boat with provisions and 
 they had not wanted for food, but the cold had 
 brought them great discomfort. . The breezes 
 had been all in their favor in bearing them 
 away from the island, but for this very reason 
 they had felt the chill of the north. 
 
 The second night it had blown almost a gale, 
 and they actually suffered from not only the 
 cold but the waves, which every now and then 
 would come sweeping over the stern of their 
 boat. In these two days and nights spent to- 
 gether on the great waters, Vivian came to de- 
 pend greatly on Lettie's reliant spirit. There 
 
 149
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 also came to her absolute conviction that her 
 brother would never suffer ill at the hands of 
 this girl. Whatever the object of her quest in 
 seeking him might be, Vivian intuitively knew 
 that it was for Tom's good. This was enough 
 to win the confidence and devotion of the island 
 girl. And so her diffident heart in these hours 
 that seemed so full of peril and trouble, leaned 
 heavily on the sympathy and support of her 
 companion. Lettie, silent and reserved her- 
 self, was unflinchingly brave, and no obstacle 
 appeared too arduous for her spirit to sur- 
 mount. In the moments upon their two-day 
 journey on the lake, which had been the most 
 trying, she had never quailed once. 
 
 Mrs. Simmons hurried them below deck and 
 soon they were in comfortable berths with 
 blankets piled over them and steaming coffee 
 served to them by her own good hands. 
 
 "Goodness knows," she ejaculated, "the Ad- 
 miral would have kept you there on deck until 
 you were plumb dead. I never did see a man 
 
 150
 
 IN A NEW WORLD 
 
 that liked to talk like he does. You'd a* 
 thought his wits had gone a wool gathering." 
 And so the good woman bustled about omitting 
 nothing that might add to their comfort. 
 
 The cold had almost eaten to their very bone ; 
 and the treatment that Mrs. Simmons gave 
 them was exactly what they needed. Under 
 its influence they were soon both sound asleep. 
 
 An adventure of any kind always appealed 
 strongly to the Admiral's love of the romantic, 
 which was well developed, and the rescue of the 
 distressed maidens especially did so. His 
 whimsical mind was filled with thoughts of 
 knights of old and the golden deeds of fabled 
 story and he strode his deck after his wife had 
 conducted them below, his heel coming down 
 with unusual vigor on the deck. The captain 
 of an ocean bark could not have been happier 
 after some great bravery at sea than the Admi- 
 ral over his latest feat. And while he thought 
 of it and of where they might be bound there 
 suddenly came a new thought that hugely 
 
 151
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 elated him. He would have rushed below in 
 his enthusiasm if Mrs. Simmons had not ap- 
 peared above deck at that moment. He 
 clasped her in his arms and waltzed her around 
 several times, shouting all the while, "I have it 
 now! I have it!" 
 
 "Well, I should say you had," declared his 
 wife, trying to pull away. "I declare, Admiral, 
 one would believe you had been drinking." 
 
 He answered her allegations by smacking 
 her soundly on the cheek and then executing 
 a double pigeon wing. This completed, he 
 struck an attitude. 
 
 "Will you tell us what it is all about?" de- 
 manded Mrs. Simmons. 
 
 "I've found an Eliza," declared the Admiral. 
 
 "Found an Eliza? Where?" 
 
 "Why, in one of these two young women. 
 It's like bread cast on the waters coming 
 back." 
 
 "I don't believe, Admiral Simmons," replied 
 his wife, "that you have been casting any 
 
 152
 
 IN A NEW WORLD 
 
 young women on the waters or into them 
 either, but I can see some hope in your idea." 
 
 "Hope," shouted the Admiral, "hope? 
 Well, I should say so. Why, it would be in- 
 gratitude for them to refuse. The only ques- 
 tion is, which shall it be?" 
 
 "The dark one, of course," said his wife; 
 "she has enough confidence. The other girl is 
 a beauty, but her complexion doesn't fit 
 Eliza, and I believe an audience would scare 
 her to death." 
 
 "We could make the complexion fit, easy 
 enough," replied the Admiral, "but you cannot 
 fit confidence on any one that comes along. 
 That's something we must consider." 
 
 "Some shows have two Uncle Toms and two 
 Topsies," suggested Ella Brown, Mrs. Sim- 
 mons' sister, who was the Topsy of the com- 
 pany. * * Why can 't we have two Elizas ! ' ' 
 
 The other members of the company who were 
 gathered around declared this a capital idea 
 until the Lawyer Marks reminded them that if 
 
 153
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 they had two Elizas they would have to have 
 two of the others in order to preserve the ar- 
 tistic balance of the company. The Admiral 
 scented danger in this at once. To double his 
 company meant he must double his pay-roll and 
 this was not at all to his mind. "Pshaw," he 
 said, ' ' that dark girl that did the talking, she 's 
 the one. I know an actress when I see one and 
 she'll make a great Eliza and a great Eliza 
 she'll be. That's settled." 
 
 "It isn't settled by her," said Mrs. Sim- 
 mons, "and to-morrow night we arrive at Port 
 Buffington. "We'll have a good house there and 
 we must give a good show. ' ' 
 
 "We'll all persuade her," said Ella Brown, 
 "and she'll do it anyway. Who ever saw a 
 girl that didn 't want to go on the stage 1 ' ' 
 
 It may be that there are those who might be 
 able to have answered Ella's question, nega- 
 tively, but among these itinerant actors such an 
 avowal would have been like the doing of a mir- 
 acle. The girls that crossed their paths were 
 
 154
 
 IN A NEW WOKLD 
 
 all ambitious to pass the dividing line made by 
 the footlights. 
 
 And so it was when Lettie and Vivian at 
 length awoke they found an eager crowd 
 about them urging Lettie to take the part of 
 Eliza in the play the next evening. Lettie 's 
 swift mind grasped the situation at once. 
 Here was employment dropped at her feet when 
 she was approaching the great world beyond 
 with but scanty means. While she was seek- 
 ing to avoid publicity rather than court it, this 
 traveling about might bring her the more easily 
 by some strange accident into touch with Tom. 
 Admiral Simmons was prolific in his promises, 
 if she would only accede. She and Vivian 
 could both live on the boat and if she was seek- 
 ing employment he could offer her more than 
 inexperience could find in the city. He brushed 
 aside the difficulties she offered. In his anx- 
 iety he forgot as did the others to question 
 them more about their strange advent upon the 
 boat. He only thought, would she accept? 
 
 155
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 This Lettie did, and under the coaching of sev- 
 eral members of the troupe she was soon study- 
 ing the part of Eliza. 
 
 156
 
 VIVIAN OF THE FOOTLIGHTS
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 VIVIAN OF THE FOOTLIGHTS 
 
 THE next two months passed very swiftly 
 for the two girls whose entrance into a 
 world new and strange to them had been so 
 sudden. Artistic requirements in the Ad- 
 miral's company were simple and Lettie was 
 found to be equal to them. Vivian helped by 
 caring for the costumes of the company as well 
 as with any other task which came to her hand. 
 In the plantation scene, which was the tour de 
 force of the play, she even appeared on the 
 stage as one of the cotton pickers. She had 
 remonstrated at this when it was proposed to 
 her, but the Admiral was so urgent that she 
 gave way. It was a trial at first for her to ap- 
 pear before an audience, though her part re- 
 quired little action and contained not one line 
 
 159
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 for her to speak. The season was one of great 
 prosperity for the company. The little cities 
 and towns welcomed " Uncle Tom" and his 
 cabin as if the ancient play were a new claimant 
 from a metropolitan success. The Admiral 
 grew happier and stouter than ever as the star 
 of his fortunes rose higher and higher in the 
 sky. 
 
 "One more season like this," he was wont to 
 chuckle, "and we can give our farewell tour, 
 though heaven knows what I should do if I 
 were to divorce myself from my art." 
 
 With all the other members of the company, 
 Vivian and Lettie were on the best of terms. 
 The life was a hard one, with its constant 
 moving from place to place, and there was little 
 time between engagements for else than rest. 
 The little family of the stage and sea had scant 
 time to visit with each other, for no sooner was 
 one date fulfilled than there came the work of 
 gathering together their possessions and mak- 
 ing the next port with all possible speed. The 
 
 160
 
 VIVIAN OF THE FOOTLIGHTS 
 
 spare moments were given to sleep and prepa- 
 ration for the next curtain to go swinging to- 
 ward the flys. 
 
 Vivian and Lettie spoke but little of the hope 
 that each bore in her heart that somewhere, 
 sometime, they would find Tom, but it was ever 
 their dream. That Tom was a wanderer on 
 the face of the earth, friendless and alone, was 
 the thought that saddened Vivian more and 
 more as the days passed. Sometimes breathed 
 deep in her heart, sometimes trembling on her 
 lips, but there always, was the prayer that she 
 might find him, and then go away to some place 
 with him where they both would be forever 
 safe from molestation. Of Lettie 's quest for 
 her brother she seldom thought. It was only 
 for his good, this was a settled conviction; but 
 once the quest was fulfilled the strange, silent, 
 reliant woman would go her way, for whatever 
 had been the strength of the passion Tom had 
 shared with her, the blood of a father forbade 
 eternally its further protraction. 
 
 161
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 Again at times there would come into her 
 vision her island home. Tears filled her eyes 
 as its white cliffs and trees bending in the soft 
 breezes came before her. Must she ever be an 
 exile from its shores f Should she never again 
 tread its beloved paths or listen to the wind as it 
 hummed and whirled across its face? What 
 had she done that life had been so unkind to 
 her? It was reflections like these that filled 
 Vivian's mind during these busy days that 
 went by so quickly they seemed to take to them- 
 selves wings. 
 
 It was at the end of the two months that Let- 
 tie found herself one night unable to take up 
 her part. For a week she had been struggling 
 with a cold that grew until she found herself 
 in the clutches of a raging fever. She would 
 have attempted the part at all hazards if Mrs. 
 Simmons had not recognized that such an ef- 
 fort was too much for her, and firmly led her 
 away to bed and medical treatment. Admiral 
 Simmons acknowledged the justice of the deed, 
 
 162
 
 VIVIAN OF THE FOOTLIGHTS 
 
 though he was thrown into despair. The house 
 was crowded. The hour for the curtain to rise 
 was at hand. To return the people their money 
 and send them away meant a loss he did not 
 relish. He paced about the stage and dress- 
 ing-rooms, watched by his sympathetic com- 
 pany, trying to solve the problem to which 
 there seemed no solution at hand. Finally he 
 stood in the center of the stage and cried, 
 "It's no use; we'll have to send them away." 
 
 Vivian, who had been studying in the wings, 
 stepped upon the stage and said, "Mr. Sim- 
 mons, I think I can take the part." 
 
 The Admiral whirled about like a top. 
 "You, bless you, could you?" 
 
 "Yes, I've heard Lettie read the lines so 
 often I'm quite sure I could, if you are willing 
 to let me try." 
 
 "Let you try," cried the Admiral joyously; 
 "why, if you just stagger through the part it's 
 all we want. Well, this is luck!" 
 
 And so the players either arranged them- 
 163
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 selves in their places about the stage or sought 
 their dressing-rooms and the curtain went up. 
 
 It had cost Vivian all the courage she pos- 
 sessed to make her offer. She had a strong 
 realizing sense of her obligations to Admiral 
 Simmons and his company, and it was only a 
 duty she felt was owed to him that steeled her 
 to the task. She knew the words and to have 
 kept silent when those who had been so kind 
 to her were in need of her services would have 
 been base ingratitude, and so suppressing her 
 fears she clinched her teeth and essayed the 
 role. 
 
 The opening scene of the play is familiar to 
 the civilized world: the little cabin on the old 
 plantation with Uncle Tom and Aunt Chloe be- 
 fore the blazing log in happy content; the 
 sudden swinging open of the door and entrance 
 of Eliza, who tells of the sale of Uncle Tom and 
 her boy, all the while clasping the little fellow 
 to her breast, such a mixture of sorrow, bit- 
 terness, fear, terror, pain, all thrown into the 
 
 164
 
 VIVIAN OF THE FOOTLIGHTS 
 
 scales at once. "When the cabin door swung 
 back and Vivian came panting through, the 
 spirit of the crushed mother seemed to seize 
 her. She forgot the audience, the stage, the 
 lights, and only saw the devoted slaves, who 
 were her friends. She only remembered the 
 mother whose boy had been sold away from 
 her, and in piteous tones she told her story. 
 The scene lasts but a moment; Uncle Tom's 
 refusal to accompany her in flight, her own 
 desperate resolve to brave any terror rather 
 than lose her boy, her hurried farewell, the 
 swinging once more of the door, and a wave of 
 the hand as Uncle Tom holds aloft the fagot 
 that lightens her out into the night, and then 
 she is gone, but in that brief moment Vivian 
 sounded the gamut of a soul in sorrow and 
 swept everything along with her. It was not 
 only the audience that was spellbound. The 
 Admiral almost forgot his part of Uncle Tom, 
 he was so carried along by the intensity of her 
 acting. The members of the company not on 
 
 165
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 during the act gathered in the wings and 
 watched with rapt wonder. The curtain had 
 scarcely fallen on the scene when Admiral Sim- 
 mons went rushing after Vivian crying, "An 
 actress, an actress right here in our midst and 
 we didn't know it." 
 
 Vivian was embarrassed by the praise the 
 other members of the company heaped upon 
 her. She was not aware of having acted well. 
 The moment she stepped upon the stage she felt 
 herself sink into her part, and the audience 
 was not there as far as she was concerned. 
 Some of the sorrow she had known was in her 
 voice, and as she recounted the woes of the 
 poor slave woman in the lowly cabin it went out 
 across the footlights and found an echoing 
 chord in the hearts of the audience. It was sel- 
 dom that the little city where the troupe was 
 playing was visited by the best that dramatic 
 art had to offer. Far from the centers of popu- 
 lation, where the stars of the thespian world 
 glittered, it must needs be satisfied with the 
 
 166
 
 VIVIAN OF THE FOOTLIGHTS 
 
 crumbs that fell from the table, but the audience 
 was none the less quick to recognize nature at 
 the mirror, and it awaited the advent of the 
 fugitive woman again with eagerness. 
 
 The scene at the river tavern is the one in 
 4 'Uncle Tom's Cabin" that gives the actress 
 who enacts the role of Eliza what slight oppor- 
 tunity the part affords to display her talent. 
 From the moment it opens until its culmination 
 in the escape across the Ohio on the ice, it is 
 so melodramatic that the utmost skill is neces- 
 sary to make it convincing. There is really a 
 world of feeling and pathos in the desperate 
 struggle the slave woman makes for her child. 
 Vivian came quietly upon the stage, clasping the 
 child to her bosom. An outburst of applause 
 greeted her, but did not disturb the equanimity 
 which possessed her soul. She was not Vivian 
 now. She was the fugitive whose part she en- 
 acted. She did not even think to wonder or to 
 be astonished at the ease with which she crossed 
 the stage or spoke her lines. It was as if she had 
 
 167
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 found her place, and truly she had, for every 
 movement she made was as natural as grace 
 could make it. It may be unbelievable to some 
 that a girl so timorous by nature could by one 
 step become the effective artist of the stage. 
 To those who have studied humankind it was 
 only an added testimony to a demonstrated fact 
 that when one comes at last to one's element, 
 no matter how naturally timid the character, 
 at once one is as much at home, as completely, 
 as is the fish that swim the waters of the deep. 
 Eliza is on the stage but a moment when the 
 rugged woodsman appears and discovers her 
 trouble. With what trusting winsomeness she 
 accepted his protection, and then at the sound 
 of threatening footsteps how quickly she slips 
 into the adjoining room, pinning all her hopes 
 of safety in his loyalty to his promise! The 
 slave drivers are intent on searching the house. 
 Phineas, the woodsman, beguiles them with 
 drink. It is necessary that she be out of the 
 house at once, for her new friend sees that he 
 
 168
 
 VIVIAN OF THE FOOTLIGHTS 
 
 cannot long delay her pursuers. She is in the 
 next room and in his need to keep the men in- 
 terested there is no opportunity to give her 
 direction. Suddenly he begins the story of a 
 slave woman and her child tracked by slave 
 drivers. As he recounts the story Eliza 
 takes the cue and follows his relation step by 
 step. He tells of the poor woman cowed with 
 fear in the next room, of how she silently 
 creeps through the room containing her ene- 
 mies while they, busy at the bar, fail to per- 
 ceive her, and, finding her way to the door 
 blocked, how she mounted the chair and then the 
 table and disappears through the window. 
 
 Lovers of the drama know only too well that 
 the true actor and actress do not always depend 
 upon the spoken word. It is the movement of 
 the body, the suggestion that comes from a 
 pause or a slight action of the head, a hundred 
 and one things that contribute to the effective 
 portrayal of the character. No one had ever 
 told Vivian this, nor could she have expressed 
 
 169
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 in words the philosophy of it, but no veteran 
 of the stage ever practiced it more completely 
 than she did. As she appeared in the door- 
 way, staggering under the burden of the child, 
 and then ventured into the room, the audience 
 was held spellbound for fear of her discovery. 
 Her progress across the stage was almost an 
 agony to them. And when she sprang lightly 
 through the window and disappeared, a sigh of 
 relief went up all over the theater, only to be 
 succeeded by a murmur of disappointment when 
 Haley, glancing out of the window, sees her 
 fleeing toward the Ohio and sounds the alarm. 
 And so it was when the scene changed and re- 
 vealed the dark waters of the river swollen with 
 cakes of ice. Not one word does Eliza utter as 
 she takes her perilous way across the Ohio, and 
 yet so splendidly did she carry herself in this 
 scene, as melodramatic as any on the stage, that 
 the house rose at her. The curtain rang down 
 amid a perfect thunder of applause. 
 If her friends in the company had been 
 170
 
 VIVIAN OF THE FOOTLIGHTS 
 
 amazed at her success in the first scene, they 
 were now almost transported. There is much 
 talk of thespian jealousy, but surely it found 
 no place here. The moment the curtain hid the 
 audience from view, they were upon her with a 
 perfect avalanche of joy. Mrs. Simmons held 
 her in her arms, the tears glistening in her eyes. 
 "Oh, you little darling," she said, "you little 
 darling, what an artist you are." The other 
 members of the company patted her and covered 
 her with confusion so rich were they in praise. 
 As for the Admiral, all that he could do was 
 to caper up and down the stage cutting a pigeon 
 wing here and there and crying, "An actress, 
 by Jove, an actress." 
 
 All this time the applause was continuing on 
 the other side of the curtain and it would not 
 be satisfied until Vivian had been led one two 
 three four yes, five times to blush and 
 bow to those whose hearts she had won. 
 
 But once again does Eliza appear in the play. 
 This is where once more under the protecting 
 
 171
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 care of her husband, George Harris, who, too, 
 has escaped from his master, compassed about 
 by the rocks of a mountain defile, they fight the 
 battle that brings them victory and then escape 
 to Canada. Eliza here has little to do, but the 
 audience could not forget her acting and wel- 
 comed her when the curtain rose, and sent her 
 on her way to the far north when it fell, with 
 more outbursts of applause. 
 
 When the curtain fell for the last time that 
 night and as the crowd filed out of the theater, 
 all talking of but one thing, the winsome grace 
 and beauty of the little actress, the Admiral 
 gently led her to the stage, where the company 
 was gathered, and with a majestic air none 
 could assume better on occasion, yet with benev- 
 olence beaming on his brow, he declared, ' ' Com- 
 panions, let it be long remembered that the 
 good King Thespis has this day crowned this 
 maiden fair as a princess royal and heir appar- 
 ent to his throne." 
 
 172
 
 THE FACE OF A FOE
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE FACE OF A FOE 
 
 VIVIAN left the theater alone and hurried 
 toward the pier as soon as she could es- 
 cape from the adulations of her friends. The 
 equanimity with which she faced the footlights 
 disappeared when the curtain fell, and her em- 
 barrassment grew as the praise increased. It 
 was but a short distance to the landing where 
 the boat was secured, and her mind was so taken 
 up with the events of the evening that her usual 
 timidity, which would have prevented her ven- 
 turing forth alone, was forgotten, and after 
 having hurriedly dressed for the street she 
 slipped out of her dressing-room and outdoors 
 unnoticed by the others, who were busy them- 
 selves in doffing the costumes of the play. 
 The theater was on the business street of the 
 175
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 town, which led directly to the water's edge, 
 whence from all of the Great Lakes, vessels 
 came daily. Vivian had come within a block 
 of the lake when as she passed under an elec- 
 tric street lamp she became conscious of some- 
 one crossing the street toward her. The form 
 of the man seemed familiar, and as she gazed 
 she saw it was Jim Hester. For a moment she 
 hesitated, and then seized with a fear that was 
 unreasoning she darted straight toward the 
 end of the street and out on the great pier. 
 Panic-stricken, she thought she heard the heavy 
 footsteps of Hester hurrying after her and 
 every moment she thought she felt his hand 
 upon her shoulder. A lake steamer was just 
 casting off as she bounded on the pier. In her 
 agony of terror she sprang upon its deck, which 
 a moment later was entirely free from the dock, 
 and then fainted dead away and would have 
 fallen back into the water if a sailor had not 
 caught her. 
 
 When she came to her senses the lights of the 
 176
 
 THE FACE OF A FOE 
 
 little lake town were growing dim in the dis- 
 tance and she found that those aboard the 
 steamer had simply taken her for a belated pas- 
 senger who had fainted from over-exertion in 
 catching her boat. This belief she was quite 
 willing for them to retain. She paid her fare 
 to Chicago, which she found to be the boat's 
 destination, and securing a stateroom she tried 
 to collect her thoughts, which had been BO rudely 
 scattered by this latest adventure. It was diffi- 
 cult for her to do this. All of the old fear that 
 she would be taken back to Mackinac to face 
 an inquisition which would worm her brother's 
 confession from her arose. That Hester was 
 on this mission and had traced her to this point 
 she did not doubt. That he had fortunately 
 been unable to follow her on the boat was a 
 comfort, but how could she know but what he 
 already was tracing the boat by some other 
 means and that at its very first stop she would 
 be confronted by emissaries of the law, to whom 
 he had telegraphed, or perhaps he might be able 
 
 177
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 to take some fast train and reaching one of the 
 boat's stopping places, ahead of her, confront 
 her there and denounce her as one with whom 
 the law had to do? 
 
 And so, torn by conflicting donbts and 
 fears, she tossed on her couch and the sun had 
 commenced to tinge the waters of the lake with 
 its first rays before she at last sunk, exhausted 
 by her mental struggles, into an uneasy sleep. 
 
 Meanwhile, Hester was far away on another 
 lake steamer, little dreaming that he had been 
 so near the sister of his rival. He had searched 
 every nook and corner of his old haunts in 
 Canada for Lettie, believing firmly she had 
 taken refuge there, until at length convinced he 
 was mistaken he had returned in a very ill-tem- 
 per to Mackinac, hoping to hear some word of 
 her there. Here he could learn no news of 
 either Lettie or Vivian, though he did find the 
 island folks wondering at the whereabouts of 
 George Thorpe, who had left shortly after the 
 two girls disappeared. 
 
 178
 
 THE FACE OF A FOE 
 
 Hester did not linger long on the island. 
 He found his popularity, which had never 
 been great, had still further waned, and so 
 finding employment on a lumber boat he, 
 too, bid farewell to the fairy isle. His boat 
 had stopped for a load of lumber at the 
 town where the Admiral and his company were 
 playing, and Hester had spent the day there 
 close to Lettie, whom he had traveled so many 
 miles to find. He had even thought of attend- 
 ing the theater in the evening, but fate, so 
 strange in its dealing with men, had turned his 
 steps elsewhere, and all unknowing an oppor- 
 tunity to gratify his quest, for the time being, 
 slipped through his fingers. At the very mo- 
 ment he met Vivian his mind was full of the 
 island tragedy, and more particularly of Lettie, 
 whom he was mentally resolving to make suffer 
 when he once more closed his fingers upon her. 
 And strange fate foiled him again that evening, 
 for a little while after he passed Vivian he 
 drew close to the Admiral's craft, where Let- 
 
 179
 
 VIVIAK OF MACKINAC 
 
 tie was lying on a sick couch, though unlike 
 Vivian, Lettie was as ignorant of Hester's proi- 
 imity as he was of hers. It was but a little later 
 than this that his boat sailed to the north, and 
 in his sullen mind never did chance even whis- 
 per how it had fooled him. 
 
 Though it was unusual for Vivian to leave 
 the theater alone, the fact was less noted, for 
 she was in the habit of accompanying Lettie, 
 and Lettie was not there to-night. But when 
 they sought her on the houseboat to continue 
 their congratulations and talk all over again 
 the triumphs of the evening, she was not to be 
 found. They did not wish to alarm Lettie and 
 as long as they dared they withheld Vivian's 
 absence from her, but as morning came and 
 neither their vigils nor those of the authorities 
 of the town, whose help they had enlisted, were 
 rewarded, they were forced to turn to the sick 
 girl and ask if she knew of the whereabouts of 
 her missing friend. Of course, she did not and 
 their anxiety was increased. 
 
 180
 
 THE FACE OF A FOE 
 
 All the next day was spent by the members 
 of the company in the search, the engagement 
 in the next town being foregone, but when night 
 again came they gave up in despair, and leaving 
 the matter in the hands of the officers, who 
 promised faithfully to continue the investiga- 
 tion, they moved on. 
 
 Lettie was well enough to resume her part, 
 though only her sense of duty to the Admiral 
 and her knowledge that anything she herself 
 could do to find her friend was probably use- 
 less, prevented her from remaining behind. 
 She was responsible, she felt, for Vivian's ab- 
 sence from home, and this added to her burden. 
 Moreover, a tender friendship had grown be- 
 tween the two girls, and this added to the ache 
 of the loss. 
 
 As the weeks passed and they journeyed from 
 place to place with no word ever coming from 
 Vivian, most of the company came to believe 
 she was dead. So loyal were they to the young 
 girl whose friendship they had shared that 
 
 181
 
 none of them ever for a moment charged her 
 with deserting them. And not knowing of her 
 enemy, who had appeared in her path so sud- 
 denly and frightened her away from them, they 
 could reach no other solution. 
 
 182
 
 A STRANGER IN A GREAT CITY
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 A STRANGER IN A GREAT CITY 
 
 IT was almost dark the second afternoon 
 when the lake steamer with Vivian as a pas- 
 senger reached its pier on the Chicago Kiver. 
 It was one of those smaller craft that plied 
 along the shore line of the lake, carrying as 
 well as passengers considerable freight, most 
 of which consisted of fruit. Its passage there- 
 fore had been more tedious than that of the 
 larger steamers, which touch but one or two 
 points in the sweep of the lake from the straits 
 to the river, and which equal in time taken for 
 the journey but one full circle of the sun. As 
 the boat stopped at port after port, and no one 
 armed with authority appeared, Vivian's spirit 
 rose. With each stop it became more and more 
 evident that for some reason Hester had not 
 
 185
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 tried to follow her in this way. As her courage 
 grew she ventured from her stateroom to the 
 dining room, but such food as she ordered she 
 partook of hurriedly, fearing there might be 
 someone on board from the island who would 
 recognize her. Her fears were unnecessary on 
 this score, though her sweet and winsome face, 
 pale and troubled as it was, did not fail to at- 
 tract attention, but she gave no 'one an oppor- 
 tunity to gain her acquaintance. As the boat 
 neared its landing in the great city some of her 
 anxiety returned, for it was possible that Hes- 
 ter or some messenger of his, might be awaiting 
 her there. With this thought she hurried 
 down the gang plank and away from the dock- 
 yard, her heart beating with trepidation. 
 
 It seemed too good to be true that she had 
 really escaped Hester. Momentarily, she ex- 
 pected the touch of his hand upon her arm. 
 Every step behind her, she feared might be his. 
 
 Vivian's spirit was not that of a coward. In- 
 experienced as she was, and unequal to the 
 
 186
 
 A STEANGEB IN A GEEAT CITY 
 
 hurly-burly of the noisy world, she still would 
 have been brave, if the troubles she sought to 
 avert, had been her own. It was because of 
 the hurt she feared might come to others she 
 loved, that she was sick with terror at the 
 thought of the man from whom she fled. Her 
 courage, which had grown on the boat, again 
 returned as she reached the street and none had 
 sought to detain her. 
 
 In a few minutes she found herself on a 
 broad avenue, given largely to trade. For the 
 first time in her life she was in a real city, and 
 the height of the great buildings was awe-in- 
 spiring to a mind so unaccustomed to such 
 sights. In the fast falling dusk they seemed 
 like mountains, but mountains without the trees 
 and bushes and green life that smooths their 
 grim majesty into beauty. There were hun- 
 dreds of people hurrying along on both sides of 
 the streets, but she had never felt so unutter- 
 ably alone in all her life. Everyone was in 
 mad haste. They seemed to be so self-centered, 
 
 187
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 so impervious to every interest but their own, 
 that the heart of the island girl failed her when 
 she thought of asking any direction. 
 
 As she went on, the street became more 
 crowded with vehicles of every description, 
 while overloaded street cars passed on their 
 way with noisy clangor. The sidewalks were 
 swollen almost to congestion with the hurry- 
 ing throng, and all served to add to the 
 girl's bewilderment. On the island the boom- 
 ing of the waves against the cliffs, when the 
 winds rose in the straits, had been like solemn 
 music to her, but this noise had no melody in 
 it, it was harsh, cruel and terrifying. Seek- 
 ing to escape it she turned from the street into 
 another, only to find the whole thing repeated. 
 She kept on because to her simple soul there 
 seemed nothing else to do, and by turning from 
 one street into another she at last found herself 
 in a quieter part of the city. 
 
 Vivian's head was throbbing with the nerv- 
 ous strain, while her feet ached, for they had 
 
 188
 
 A STRANGER IN A GREAT CITY 
 
 covered miles since she had left the steamer. 
 It was growing dark. Three hours had passed 
 since she had started on her aimless quest. If 
 she had known the city she would have recog- 
 nized the portion where she found herself as 
 having once upon a time been the home of its 
 first citizens. To her unsophisticated mind 
 these old mansions were still impressive, but 
 for years the grade of tenants had been on a 
 descending scale in ownership of goods and 
 chattels, and the edifice where once the society 
 of the city had been wont to assemble was now 
 given up not to one family, but to five eight 
 ten, as the case might be, and the size of the 
 house warranted. Fretted within and worn 
 without, she gave little attention to these things. 
 Vivian realized she must find a place to spend 
 the night, but where and how she did not know. 
 When she had fled onto the little steamer she 
 had a small sum in her possession. The last of 
 this had been used in paying her expenses to 
 Chicago. She would not turn to the police, one 
 
 189
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 of whom she met every now and then, for al- 
 ways was recurring the old dread of having her 
 identity discovered and being taken back to the 
 island to testify against her brother. 
 
 In her long wanderings, she thought many 
 times of her friends of the mimic world, who 
 had been so kind to her in these recent months. 
 What would they think of her disappearance? 
 Would they believe she had willfully deserted 
 them? Again and again, there recurred to her 
 some hope of returning to them. Her lack of 
 means seemed an unsurmountable barrier to 
 this plan. Now, she was too tired to plan, she 
 must first rest. 
 
 But she had reached her shelter, though she 
 did not realize it until she found herself be- 
 neath its roof. It was an old church, 
 a landmark of the earliest days of the city's 
 history. It was almost the first place of wor- 
 ship of any pretensions in the city, though 
 now long since deserted by those who once 
 found within it the consolations of religion. 
 
 190
 
 A STKANGEK IN A GREAT CITY 
 
 It stood back from the walk some fifty 
 feet. The space in front of it had been used as 
 a graveyard by some of the earlier communi- 
 cants and a few of the tombstones were still 
 standing, though many of them had fallen and 
 time had obliterated most of their inscriptions. 
 Along the front of the church, even with the 
 walk, was an iron fence six feet high. This 
 fence connected at each end with board fences, 
 which ran to the rear of the church and joined 
 a fourth fence, which stood but a few feet back 
 from the church, making a scant yard. To the 
 left and in the rear of the church the space 
 beyond the fences was used for a large lumber- 
 yard, while close to the fence on the right was 
 a large warehouse. 
 
 When Vivian reached the iron fence in front 
 of the old church her meager strength was al- 
 most gone. The gate that lead up the pathway 
 to the portals of the church was ajar, and find- 
 ing that she could go no further she passed 
 through the gate and up the pathway, thankful 
 
 191
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 to find a place to rest, even though it was on 
 the stone steps of the church. As she reached 
 the door the last ember of energy remaining 
 flickered out and she fell forward upon the three 
 steps and knew no more. 
 
 192
 
 THE WITCH IN THE CHURCH
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THE WITCH IN THE CHUKCH 
 
 IF the old church on whose steps Vivian 
 sought rest was deserted and almost forgot- 
 ten by those who had once worshiped there, it 
 was not uninhabited. Ten years before when 
 the congregation had grown so in numbers and 
 wealth, it was not satisfied with less than a 
 more elegant house of worship in a more refined 
 part of the city, the trustees endeavored to 
 rent or sell the property to some of the foreign 
 populations which were coming into the neigh- 
 borhood and which were not quite so exacting 
 in their requirements of a place to worship God. 
 They had succeeded once in renting it in this 
 way, but the history of the second congregation 
 repeated that of the first, and as it grew out 
 of its first estate of humility and economy 
 
 195
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 it, too, moved away into better and more 
 fastidious quarters. After this the trustees had 
 endeavored to sell the church, but the section 
 steadily deteriorated and so finally, as the 
 taxes were not high, they had simply held on to 
 the property hoping that eventually something 
 would turn up and remove what had become a 
 veritable white elephant. 
 
 In the first days of the desertion of the 
 church they found that leaving it without at- 
 tention of any kind had been an invitation to 
 the rougher element, which was gathering about 
 it, to use it as headquarters for all sorts of 
 deviltries, and when they learned that its un- 
 solicited use was even being contemplated for 
 a prize fight they decided to find a caretaker 
 for it. 
 
 While they were in this state of mind a fur- 
 rowed-faced old woman applied for the place. 
 The lines and wrinkles on her countenance were 
 so many that one could easily believe she was 
 a hundred years old, though a pair of black eyes 
 
 196
 
 THE WITCH IN THE CHURCH 
 
 flashed a fire that betokened unquenchable 
 vigor. She was nearly six feet tall and straight 
 as an arrow. The trustee, to whom she applied 
 and who had charge of the matter, had thought 
 to ask her, when in answer to his first question 
 he found she meant to live in the church alone, 
 if she did not fear to do this, but after a few 
 words he felt it unnecessary. He had found 
 as grim a spirit as ever crossed his path. Nor 
 did it seem probable, old as the woman was, 
 that she would be unable to protect herself if 
 the necessity arose. Her tall frame was wiry 
 and though the flesh was scant her every move- 
 ment suggested power. Of her past he discov- 
 ered little. She would take the church in ex- 
 change for its basement rooms as a place of 
 abode ; she would see to it that it was protected 
 from vandals, was not that enough? 
 
 He did find, however, that though she was not 
 a gypsy herself she had lived for a time with 
 gypsies, and this suggested to him the possibil- 
 ity of her using her quarters as a fortune-tell- 
 
 197
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 ing place, and this he declared the church would 
 not permit. The woman was quick to tell him 
 that if she made the church her home she pro- 
 posed to live her own life there ; that he and his 
 people could not expect too much for nothing; 
 anyway, that if she wanted to tell fortunes she 
 would. The trustee, who was anxious to get the 
 matter off his hands, and who did not care much 
 anyway what she did as long as she provoked 
 no newspaper scandal, finally compromised 
 with her, allowing her to do as she wished 
 within her own apartments, but arranging that 
 no sign or notice of her vocation should appear 
 on the outer walls of the building. She 
 shrewdly said that the less publicity she had the 
 better it suited her purposes, and the bargain 
 was struck. Since then she had done much 
 as she wanted, for not once had either trustee 
 or anyone else appeared to bother her, though 
 it was close to three years that she had been 
 their tenant. Nor did she miss by the absence 
 of a sign upon her door. The fame of Mother 
 
 198
 
 THE WITCH IN THE CHURCH 
 
 Ann, for only by this name, given out by her- 
 self, was she known, grew and many came to 
 discover through her reputed powers their fu- 
 ture and what it held for them. 
 
 Mother Ann was alone in her apartments in 
 the church, busily engaged in polishing some 
 beautiful seashells of unique form and con- 
 siderable size. From time to time she would 
 stop to place a shell to her ear and then a 
 shadow of satisfaction would cross her face. 
 Suddenly she stopped, attracted by a sound 
 from the entrance to the church. She rose 
 muttering, "It may be someone who wishes me 
 to draw his planet," and reaching for a lamp 
 she made her way to the door. On opening the 
 door she at first saw no one. Then she lifted 
 the lamp above her head and stepping out on 
 the steps peered into the darkness. A moan 
 at her feet caused her to look down and dis- 
 cover the form of the unconscious girl. A 
 shake of the shoulder brought no response. 
 The soothsayer placed the lamp on the ground 
 
 199
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 and gathering up her unexpected guest carried 
 her back into a room on the other side of the 
 church from whence she had been at work, 
 where she placed her on a couch. She then 
 secured a lamp and holding the light so it would 
 shine on the girl 's face she examined it intently. 
 "She has been by the wind. I can see trouble 
 there. Trouble, trouble," she whispered to 
 herself. Then she reached out and from a 
 stand took a shell much like those she had been 
 polishing in the other room. She pressed the 
 conch to the brow of the girl for a moment and 
 then placed it to her own ear. Listening in- 
 tently to it, her face expressionless all the 
 while, she seemed to read the story of the stran- 
 ger and again she muttered, ' l Trouble, trouble, 
 trouble. ' * 
 
 200
 
 OLD FRIENDS MEET AGAIN
 
 CHAPTER XVIH 
 
 OLD FBIENDS MEET AGAIN 
 
 THORPE was hastening along 
 through one of the business thorough- 
 fares of Chicago as fast as a blinding snow 
 storm would permit. A cold northeast wind 
 had hurried great masses of snow clouds down 
 upon the city and the white feathery flakes were 
 falling faster than the street cleaners coul'd cart 
 them away. The city had become a familiar 
 place to the stalwart young farmer, who had 
 been there most of the time since he had left 
 the island. All this time he had been searching 
 for Vivian. Though he had received no en- 
 couragement and found absolutely no trace of 
 her he persisted, nor would he leave the city, 
 both because he knew of no better place to 
 seek the island girl and because he had an un- 
 
 203
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 explainable conviction that if he found her at 
 all he would find her there. 
 
 It had been a weary and disheartening search, 
 with never the least trace to encourage him. 
 Every morning he had arisen with fresh deter- 
 mination and every evening, as tired as a dog, 
 he had gone to bed, his mind as resolved as 
 ever, to continue his search to the end. 
 
 Thorpe had never realized the warmth of 
 his affection for Vivian until he had lost her 
 the morning he went in search of the boat to 
 carry her away from Mackinac. Since that 
 time it had been almost irresistible and though 
 he did not know her attitude toward him, he 
 was anxious to discover her and give her the 
 protection he felt she needed. At times he 
 trembled when he thought of the frail girl alone 
 in the world as she probably was. That was a 
 phase of the case he tried to banish from his 
 mind. He had seen sights since he had come to 
 the big city that had turned his blood cold and 
 the very thought that she might be surrounded 
 
 204
 
 OLD FKIENDS MEET AGAIN 
 
 by these dangers drove him wild. So he was 
 constantly on the move hoping against hope 
 that eventually his persistence would be re- 
 warded. At times Thorpe believed Vivian was 
 dead and despair would seize him. Then he 
 would shake off this fear and renew his hunt. 
 . One day he stopped at a crossing for a mo- 
 ment to wait for an opportunity to get through 
 the procession of passing vehicles, which were 
 having difficulty with the banks of snow and 
 the sharp wind. As he stood there two women 
 and a man passed him and made an effort to 
 break through the carriages and reach a street 
 car. One of the women slipped on the icy pave- 
 ment and fell prone on the ground. Thorpe 
 sprang past her two companions in an instant 
 and helping her to rise almost dragged her 
 from beneath the hoofs of two truck horses. 
 The woman for the time being was too be- 
 wildered to say anything to him, but the 
 man and woman with her commenced to 
 thank him volubly, when the woman stopped 
 
 205
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 short in her thanks and cried, "Why, it is 
 George Thorpe!" and he saw at once it was 
 Lettie Manette. 
 
 It was like a benediction to both of them to 
 meet someone from the island, though George 
 did not dream that Vivian had left with Lettie 
 and that she had been with her for weeks after 
 their disappearance. 
 
 Lettie followed her exclamation with, 
 "George, have you found Tom? Do you know 
 where he is?" 
 
 "No, I have searched for him and for his 
 sister Vivian for months but can find no trace 
 of either." 
 
 Her.e Admiral Simmons, for it was he, hav- 
 ing succeeded in soothing his wife, whom 
 Thorpe had rescued, commenced to thank him. 
 again, and this time he was joined by Mrs. 
 Simmons, who had found herself more fright- 
 ened than hurt. Lettie introduced them and on 
 finding that Thorpe was an old friend of Let- 
 tie from the island they insisted that he 
 
 206
 
 OLD FRIENDS MEET AGAIN 
 
 should accompany the three of them to the 
 Simmons home on the west side of the city. 
 Thorpe was ready to do this, especially when 
 Lettie told him that though she did not now 
 know of Vivian's whereabouts they had left 
 the island together and had been together for 
 some time afterward. 
 
 They had reached the Simmons home before 
 Lettie finished her recital of what had taken 
 place since the night George had left Vivian 
 concealed in Sugar Loaf. He learned now of 
 Vivian's experience after he had left her and 
 how she outwitted the two ruffians. Lettie 's 
 story of their experience on the lake and of 
 their meeting Admiral Simmons and his people 
 and of their subsequent life as members of a 
 dramatic company was all surprising. Lettie 's 
 sickness had prevented her from seeing 
 Vivian's triumph on the stage, but the Admiral 
 told of it graphically, though he could not do so 
 calmly. 
 
 "Just to think," he declared to George, as 
 207
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 he had to the members of his family and troupe 
 many times since Vivian's disappearance, 
 ' ' that we should have found a young girl with 
 remarkable powers as an actress and then the 
 very earth should seem to open and swallow 
 her." 
 
 Lettie told of the subsequent search for 
 Vivian. The Admiral had hired several men, 
 who spent days scouring the country round- 
 about but they discovered absolutely no trace 
 of the lost girl. Mrs. Simmons declared that 
 she had believed from the first that when Vivian 
 had sought to reach their boat that night alone 
 that she had made a misstep and had fallen 
 into the lake and that the currents had carried 
 her away. The Admiral and Lettie were un- 
 willing to believe this. They could not bring 
 themselves to give up forever their friend, 
 though every other avenue of reasoning only 
 brought them to a dead wall. 
 
 In the ordinary case the problem would have 
 been solved by believing that Vivian had for 
 
 208
 
 OLD FRIENDS MEET AGAIN 
 
 some unknown reason decided to leave them, 
 but to those who knew her this was impossible. 
 Lettie, especially, had come to know the island 
 girl and had long ago recognized how foreign 
 her spirit was to that of the great world. Let- 
 tie knew that to Vivian the great, rushing, tu- 
 multuous world was like an unexplored and wild 
 jungle which babes playing in the woods had 
 come upon, and that its effect upon her was 
 much the same as the effect of the unknown and 
 dark forest would be upon the wandering in- 
 fants. No daughter of the island in the straits 
 had ever drunk more deeply of its sweet spirit 
 and this new life into which she had been thrust 
 was so strange to all that she had ever known 
 that she could not grasp it. All this had been 
 revealed to the more experienced girl in the 
 weeks she had been with the sister of Tom Sum- 
 mers. 
 
 After the party was settled in the Simmons 
 home, George soon learned what there was to 
 know of Lettie 's experience after the disap- 
 
 209
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 pearance of Vivian. The loss of Vivian had 
 so stirred her that she had thrown off her sick- 
 ness and was able to resume her place in the 
 company. During the autumn and the early 
 winter they had continued to play the small 
 towns of northern Wisconsin, but when the 
 lake had commenced to fill up with ice and the 
 houseboat could afford them but little protec- 
 tion against the strong breezes and waves of 
 old Michigan, the Admiral had closed the sea- 
 son and returned to Chicago. It had been the 
 most profitable one he had ever had and with 
 the proceeds he was able to control a small 
 theater on the west side of the city, and, 
 strengthening his company, he gave stock com- 
 pany performances that thus far were meeting 
 his every expectation. 
 
 Lettie had been given a place in this com- 
 pany and had become quite a favorite with the 
 clientele of the house. She had made a slight 
 change in her name, being known as Lettie 
 Mann, for she deemed this precaution neces- 
 
 210
 
 OLD FEIENDS MEET AGAIN 
 
 sary on account of Jim Hester, though she had 
 not heard one word of him since she had left 
 and the thought of him chilled her blood, iron- 
 hearted though she was. The Simmonses had 
 taken a great fancy to the reserved dark girl 
 and had insisted on her sharing their home with 
 them, the more so when they found she had no- 
 where else to go. This regard was mutual ; for 
 Lettie had come to know the sterling worth of 
 her friends. To some extent she had intrusted 
 them with her secret. She had explained that 
 Vivian's brother had been in trouble and had 
 left his home and that for this reason Vivian 
 had been forced to leave, too, for fear of being 
 used as a witness against her brother. She 
 added a little to this explanation, but it was 
 satisfactory to the Simmonses, who were of the 
 kind that used no magnifying glass to pry into 
 the affairs of their friends. Lettie was dear 
 to them, as Vivian had been. That was enough. 
 They were greatly concerned, though, over 
 the health of Lettie. As the weeks passed, in- 
 
 211
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 domitable though she was, it became evident 
 that something was wearing her spirit away. 
 It was difficult to get her to acknowledge this, 
 but they had finally persuaded her to see a phy- 
 sician. His diagnosis was not satisfactory 
 even to himself, and they had made a second 
 engagement with him. This time the medical 
 man had said to Lettie, ''Young woman, the 
 trouble with you primarily is not physical. 
 You have something that you are worrying 
 about and the effort you are making to sup- 
 press your anxiety is wearing you out. I know 
 you are holding yourself well in hand but I 
 warn you that you'd better throw your trouble 
 to the winds or there's going to be an explo- 
 sion. ' ' 
 
 Lettie 's friends were quick to see that the 
 physician had struck the keynote and Lettie 
 herself did not attempt to deny it, though she 
 said nothing. It was on their return from the 
 second visit to the physician that the accident 
 occurred that resulted in them meeting George 
 Thorpe. 
 
 212
 
 OLD FRIENDS MEET AGAIN 
 
 George was quick to discover all this him- 
 self, even while Lettie was recounting to him 
 the events of the past months. To him it was 
 an evidence of the trouble she had borne since 
 the death of her father. He reasoned that no 
 greater tragedy could come into a woman's life 
 than to have her lover take the life of her 
 father, and to have this come to a girl like 
 Lettie, who under a calm exterior was capable 
 of the strongest feelings, must be terrible. He 
 pitied her with all his heart. But the word of 
 consolation that she needed, with all his shrewd- 
 ness, he knew not how to say. 
 
 There came to him in his talks with Lettie 
 during the next few days a revelation of her 
 eager desire to see Tom, a desire she had first 
 revealed to him that night at the old fort, when 
 they stood together under the starry heavens. 
 What could possess her to be so anxious to see 
 the slayer of her father? Obviously she did 
 not desire harm to come to him. And though 
 she did not reveal this desire by any specific 
 
 213
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 word it became more and more evident to 
 George that this one thing was all she was liv- 
 ing for. Why, he could not venture even a 
 guess and so he tried to dismiss it from his 
 mind. 
 
 214
 
 THE VOICES OF THE SHELLS
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE VOICES OF THE SHELLS 
 
 WHEN Vivian recovered consciousness she 
 found herself alone in the room where 
 Mother Ann had carried her. It was some 
 time before she could collect her thoughts suf- 
 ficiently to remember where she had been when 
 the faintness had seized her. The room in 
 which she so strangely found herself was small 
 and was evidently used for a bedroom. In 
 addition to the couch on which she was resting 
 there was a bed in another corner. The large 
 windows were heavily curtained and gave her 
 no information as to her whereabouts. The 
 room contained, in addition to the furniture al- 
 ready mentioned, several rude chairs, a table 
 and a chest of drawers. The floor was uncar- 
 peted and all bore the evidence of either ex- 
 
 217
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 treme frugality or quiet poverty. As Vivian's 
 senses grew calmer she recalled how she had 
 sought the shelter of the church steps for rest 
 but this did not explain to her where she now 
 was and how she had come there. 
 
 She arose from the couch and crossing the 
 room opened the only door it had. Passing 
 through she found herself in a hall, and from 
 its appearance she at once recognized that 
 she was probably in the church at whose 
 door she had fainted. Across the hall was 
 another door which was partly open and 
 glancing through it she found it to be a room 
 of much the same size and shape as the one 
 she had left, though its furniture indicated it 
 was used for a kitchen. The hall was quite 
 long and between where Vivian stood and its 
 end toward the back of the church its floor was 
 so much lower that there were three steps con- 
 necting its front and back part. In front, the 
 hall led into the entrance to the church and 
 here, in a larger hallway, she found two flights 
 
 218
 
 THE VOICES OF THE SHELLS 
 
 of stairs, one on each side, which evidently led 
 to the auditorium, which was upstairs. She 
 turned the heavy knob on the front door of the 
 church but found the door had been locked. 
 As she stood irresolutely a low sound came to 
 her from the other end of the hall. She lis- 
 tened and it grew into a solemn croning, falling 
 and rising in a weird rhythm. It was inex- 
 pressibly chilling to her, standing alone in the 
 dark hallway. At times it would increase in 
 volume, though it was never loud, and then it 
 would almost die away into an awesome soft- 
 ness. It was as if the spirit of the gloom 
 which surrounded her was muttering to itself 
 its own uncanny secrets. Spellbound she 
 waited for the appearance of she knew not 
 what. But nothing came and at length the 
 sound died away entirely and the silence and 
 the dark shadows made her more lonely. 
 
 Vivian gathered all her courage and passed 
 down the hallway to the door at the end. It 
 opened easily at her touch and as she passed 
 
 219
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 through it the croning broke out again. She 
 found herself in a large room, so large it might 
 pass as a small hall. Its walls were heavily 
 draped in black and its only light came from 
 the other end of the room, where on a slightly 
 raised platform Vivian's eye was caught and 
 held by the figure of the fortune teller. 
 
 Mother Ann was seated on a throne-like divan 
 which rose from the platform covered, as was 
 everything in the room, by death-like black 
 drapery. The throne of the witch, for such 
 she seemed, was surmounted by a canopy from 
 which hung a score of human skulls. To in- 
 crease the weirdness, tiny lights had been in- 
 serted in these and from their cavernous sock- 
 ets there came a green glow. On each side of 
 the throne stood tables and these were covered 
 with seashells of varying size and beauty, 
 though all of them were of the chambered va- 
 riety. Before the strange woman was a cal- 
 dron over a charcoal stove, and into a bub- 
 bling mass which filled it she from time to 
 
 220
 
 THE VOICES OP THE SHELLS 
 
 time cast a handful of a powdery substance 
 which flared up as it went into the pot and 
 emitted a greenish flame. Each time she fed 
 the caldron it sent forth unearthly shadows 
 which scurried about on the dark walls. While 
 she watched the boiling mass the woman kept 
 up the moody intonation which had drawn 
 Vivian to the room. She had entered so noise- 
 lessly that she was not observed, and where 
 she stood the darkness was so thick that even 
 the sharp eyes of the strange woman, glistening 
 like black orbs in her aged countenance, did not 
 seem to search out the intruder. 
 
 As the incantation continued Vivian had 
 ample opportunity to scrutinize the face of the 
 sorceress. The flickering light revealed that 
 none of the softer virtues lurked there. It 
 was a visage over which played the expres- 
 sions of cunning, craftiness, cupidity, but of the 
 generous feeling so often seen in the lineaments 
 of women there stood out not a trace. Vivian, 
 who now came in contact with the black art for 
 
 221
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 the first time, did not know whether the in- 
 terest displayed by the strange woman was 
 sincere or simulated. Her mind was so alien to 
 the mountebank and all the singular practices 
 by which this ilk deceives even itself at times 
 that she was only held in terror by all she saw. 
 
 A gust of chilling wind came from somewhere 
 and it bent the fingers of the flame in the caldron 
 toward her and then she knew the woman had 
 risen from the divan and was peering through 
 the gloom of the room at her. Vivian could 
 feel the eyes of the woman. They were pene- 
 trating and compelling eyes and they drew her 
 toward the cloven tongues of the fire in spite 
 of herself. Then the woman addressed her, 
 but before she did so she selected one of the 
 shells from those about her and pressing it to 
 Vivian's brow, as she had done before in the 
 outer room, she held it there for a while and 
 then placed it to her ear. 
 
 "Listen, girl," she said, "the voices of the 
 shell tell me strange things of thee. Thou art 
 
 222
 
 THE VOICES OF THE SHELLS 
 
 fair and young, still them wantest a place to 
 rest thy head. Under waving trees and near 
 deep waters I can see where once thou didst 
 abide. The sunshine is there no more. Thick 
 clouds have passed over the place. Evil awaits 
 thee there. And so in distress hast thou gone 
 up and down the earth. Hark, the whispering 
 in the shell grows softer. Thou hast been led 
 to me. Out under the blue blanket I found thee. 
 I have need of a companion. Art thou content 
 to stay?" 
 
 To the trembling girl the words of the sor- 
 ceress appeared to carry knowledge more por- 
 tentous than they did. Vivian was ready to 
 believe the woman knew all her past. Confused 
 as her mind became she retained enough of 
 her senses to comprehend the import of the in- 
 vitation. She was being asked to stay with 
 this awful being, who seemed to her as if she 
 had risen from the pit, so frightful was her 
 skill. The woman approached closer to her 
 with outstretched hand as if inviting her into 
 
 223
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 communion with evil powers. She swayed 
 back and forth for a moment and then for 
 the second time lay senseless at the feet of the 
 necromanceress. 
 
 224
 
 THE WITCH'S SON
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 THE WITCH'S SON 
 
 TTIVIAN was ill for several days after the 
 * scenes she witnessed in the inner chamber 
 of the witch woman, for so she had come to 
 regard her. The strain had become too great 
 for her to carry longer and all her strength 
 had given way at once. When she came to her- 
 self she was again in the little room where 
 she had been when she was first taken into 
 the church. Mother Ann, less forbidding than 
 she had been in the grewsome surroundings 
 where Vivian had first seen her, was minister- 
 ing to her in a rough way. Vivian realized 
 in her weakness that she had come to a point 
 where resistance was useless and, though not 
 entirely free from the terror with which she 
 had first viewed her strange attendant, she re- 
 
 227
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 signed herself to whatever might come. The 
 old woman had little to say to her, contenting 
 herself in bringing her the brew of strange 
 herbs to drink and giving her broths and nour- 
 ishing foods from time to time. 
 
 When Vivian was able to sit up Mother Ann 
 entered into conversation with her for the first 
 time. She took a seat beside her and began 
 by saying, "Girl, I have no care to pry into 
 your concerns. The shells will tell me all I 
 wish to know. And now that you are more 
 familiar with this place, strange as it may be, 
 I think the idle fears which possessed you are 
 giving way. I want you to stay with me; for 
 I need an assistant. If, as I have reason to 
 believe, you are homeless and alone, what bet- 
 ter can you do than stay! And if for some 
 reason," the old woman continued furtively, 
 glancing at her from under her eyebrows, "if 
 for some reason you wish to remain in secret, 
 where will you be better lost to the world than 
 here?" 
 
 228
 
 THE WITCH'S SON 
 
 Vivian felt the force of the woman's re- 
 marks and if it had not been for her fears of 
 the unseen world with which the woman seemed 
 so closely in touch she would have readily as- 
 sented, even grasped at the opportunity offered 
 her. The woman seemed to read this in her 
 hesitation and continued, "You need not be 
 troubled by the mysteries. Nothing shall harm 
 you. No matter what the mutterings of my 
 enemies may be, I deal not with the black art. 
 The voices of the shells gather for me and I 
 but serve them. And if you do not stay with 
 me, where will you go? Will that not be a 
 problem for you to solve?" 
 
 It ended with Vivian's consenting to stay, 
 though her compliance was not won at this 
 first conversation. As she became more fa- 
 miliar with the surroundings she came to be- 
 lieve that for the present the course marked 
 out for her by Mother Ann would be the best 
 to follow. She knew of no way to get in com- 
 munication with Lettie, or any of her friends 
 
 229
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 in the Simmons company. Believing that Jim 
 Hester had traced her through the company 
 was another reason why she* would not have 
 dared to make her whereabouts known to them 
 if she had known their route. She felt her- 
 self completely exiled from the island. Many 
 times during the past months she had longed 
 to write a simple line to her mother. When 
 she pictured her loneliness and sorrow, the 
 agony of it had been almost unbearable. But 
 there was ever the dread of the island authori- 
 ties coming after her and extorting from her 
 the words her brother had poured into her ear 
 at the end of that last day she had spent on the 
 cliff. 
 
 The strange woman was pleased with 
 Vivian's agreeing to stay as her helper. It 
 would be saying too much to represent that the 
 harshness, inseparable from her personality, 
 was lessened, but at least it was not directed 
 at her. Their communications were altogether 
 of the yea and nay variety. The dominant note 
 
 230
 
 THE WITCH'S SON 
 
 of the older woman was bitterness, of the 
 younger, sweetness. Though they had nothing 
 in common, they did not clash. 
 
 Vivian began her duties a week after she 
 first came to the church. They were not diffi- 
 cult, her chief mission being to usher the vis- 
 itors of the fortune teller into her presence. 
 Evidently the fame of Mother Ann was spread- 
 ing, for the number of those coming grew day 
 by day. It is more than likely that the somber 
 external with the few moss-covered grave 
 stones and the iron fence lent a mystical shade 
 to the place that decreased, not one whit in the 
 minds of those who came, the auguries of its 
 mistress. 
 
 If Vivian had been aghast at her first visit 
 to the inner chamber of the church, it was be- 
 cause she was inexperienced and unsophisti- 
 cated rather than superstitious. Once within 
 the sanctuary of the fortune teller, her quick 
 mind readily perceived that the skulls, ghostly 
 lights, caldrons and incantation were but part 
 
 231
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 of the machinery by which Mother Ann gained 
 her effects. This knowledge lessened her fear 
 and made her reconciled to her lot. What ap- 
 prehension remained was due to Mother Ann 
 herself, rather than her surroundings. There 
 was no association between the two. When 
 she was not busy with some visitor, the fortune 
 teller was forever hovering over her fires, 
 croning the hours away. After Vivian con- 
 sented to remain, the witch had never again as- 
 sumed as friendly an attitude as she did at that 
 time. Her orders were few and having in- 
 structed Vivian in her duties she seemed to 
 think she should carry them out with no further 
 direction. Vivian had a feeling that as long as 
 all went well she would have no trouble, but woe 
 to her if she ever crossed the woman. 
 
 Irregular in most things, the priestess of the 
 shells had regular hours for the reception of 
 her customers, for she was a thorough believer 
 in being fully prepared before she attempted 
 to presage the future. Never was the key to 
 
 232
 
 THE WITCH'S SON 
 
 the great front door turned until Mother Ann 
 knew that every bit of paraphernalia of her 
 office was in harmonious agreement with the 
 spell she was about to spread. When the 
 hour came Vivian, arrayed in a gown of black 
 velvet and with a half mask covering the upper 
 part of her face, took her station at the outer 
 door, and received from each seeker the stated 
 fee of admission before she guided them to the 
 inner presence. She had not relished the cos- 
 tuming at first. It made her feel as if she 
 were part of the imposture of the veiled room. 
 But Mother Ann had insisted and she had given 
 way. The mask was not at all unwelcome, for 
 this had served to conceal her identity. 
 
 Vivian was never quite able to determine 
 what her mistress did hear in the shells. For 
 them she maintained a reverence. It was part 
 of her duty to care for them, and as she grew 
 used to polishing their surfaces she came to 
 love them. They were of varied forms and 
 hues. Those from the tropical seas were of a 
 
 233
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 rare beauty. The story they told Vivian when 
 she placed them to her ear was always of the 
 sea and its islands. The voices that their 
 owner pretended to hear never spoke to Vivian, 
 but they nevertheless spoke a language the 
 island girl could understand. For hours she 
 would listen to the surging of the waters as 
 they beat upon the shores of some faraway 
 land. Mingling with their roar she could trace 
 the pathway of the breezes as they marched 
 on from tree-top to tree-top, as she had heard 
 them do so many times in the woods that 
 crowned her own island home. 
 
 If the shells brought homesickness and tears 
 they also brought her comfort. She felt they 
 were the only friends she had. 'At times she 
 would take some of those she loved the most to 
 the abandoned auditorium above. Here she 
 was always alone, for Mother Ann never trou- 
 bled to visit its empty pews and voiceless pulpit. 
 Here the shells took on a softer tone. The 
 sound of the waters was as it used to be on those 
 
 234
 
 THE WITCH'S SON 
 
 quiet summer days when Vivian would lie 
 prone upon the cliff and hear their gentle rip- 
 pling come up from below. She would forget 
 the musty furnishing of the deserted room, and 
 would dream as she used to dream under the 
 gorgeous sky of blue and gold. And so the days 
 lengthened into weeks and the weeks into months. 
 
 One morning Mother Ann met Vivian and 
 with unusual good humor she said, "I have a 
 message from my son, whom I have not heard 
 from this many a year. He is coming. ' ' 
 
 "When?" asked Vivian, with an inner sink- 
 ing, for the harsh and menacing mother she 
 knew could frame for her no favorable picture 
 of her offspring. 
 
 "To-day sometime, and perhaps, my pretty, 
 he may take a notion to you. He has an eye for 
 a bit of calico." 
 
 This unexpected news was very disturbing to 
 Vivian. She received it as a harbinger of evil. 
 Try as she might she could not shake off the 
 
 235
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 premonition that the coming of this man por- 
 tended evil. 
 
 It was late in the afternoon when she heard 
 the voice of the mother telling her to come 
 down from the upper floor; for her son had 
 come. With doubting heart Vivian descended. 
 As she approached the room where the fortune 
 teller was welcoming her son, she could hear 
 her telling him, "Sure, she is a neat slip of a 
 girl. You'll set your heart on her, I'm sure." 
 
 Vivian reached the doorway and entered the 
 room. Seated by the table was Jim Hester. 
 The recognition was mutual. 
 
 ' * By all the gods ! " he ejaculated, " is it you ? ' ' 
 And then he sprang to his feet. "Well, this is 
 luck. ' ' Then turning he addressed the fortune 
 teller. "Mother, I've been scratching the earth 
 for this wench and some of her friends. How 
 on earth did you come to have her here? There 
 must be something in your infernal magic after 
 all." 
 
 Then without waiting for an answer from 
 236
 
 THE WITCH'S SON 
 
 either of them he crossed the room and grasp- 
 ing Vivian by the wrist he demanded, "And 
 where is your brother and Lettie Manette? 
 Tell me that, will you?" 
 
 "I do not know where they are, and if I did 
 I would not tell you," retorted Vivian. "Let 
 go of my wrist, you are hurting me." 
 
 "I'll hurt you worse than this if you do not 
 answer my question. Where are they? Out 
 with it," and he emphasized his demand with 
 a cruel twist of her arm that brought out a 
 scream. 
 
 "None of that, none of that," cried his 
 mother, hurrying forward. "You'll rouse the 
 neighborhood. Let me have the girl. She'll 
 tell me." 
 
 Hester at his mother's touch released 
 Vivian's arm, and then his mother demanded, 
 "What is all this about, anyway?" 
 
 "About," answered Hester, "it's about a 
 good deal. This girl 's brother is wanted on the 
 island for murder. He tried to steal away 
 
 237
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 from me a woman I loved and, when her father 
 interfered, he killed him. Now, her brother and 
 the daughter of the murdered man have run off 
 somewhere together." 
 
 "That is not true," cried Vivian, "they are 
 not together." 
 
 "So, ho, so you do know where they are, do 
 you? Well, you are just going to tell me or I 
 will know the reason why," and he advanced 
 menacingly toward her. 
 
 Vivian was nearer to the door than either 
 of the others and as he approached she sprang 
 through it and ran up the hall toward the front 
 of the church. Beaching the vestibule, she 
 tried the knob only to find the front door was 
 locked. Hester was almost upon her by now, 
 but she fairly leaped up the stairs that led to 
 the floor above. Once inside the auditorium 
 she slid a bolt and sank in a pew to regain her 
 breath, while the two outside stormed and 
 hammered to be let in. 
 
 The door quivered under the blows that Hes- 
 238
 
 THE WITCH'S SON 
 
 ter dealt, but the stout oak held. Then there 
 was a crash of flying glass and Vivian looked 
 up to see him coming through the transom over 
 the door. She ran down the aisle while he was 
 unbolting the door for his mother to get in. 
 Vivian was lighter of foot than either of them 
 and she led them a warm chase about the 
 church. When each of her enemies selected 
 an aisle and tried to run her down in this way, 
 she bounded from pew to pew, sometimes run- 
 ning along the narrow railing that separated 
 them in the middle and sometimes barely touch- 
 ing the backs of the pews as she jumped from 
 one to the other. Her two pursuers were mad 
 with passion by this time. Mother Ann had com- 
 pletely forgotten her caution and was scream- 
 ing out anathemas of the lower world. Hester 
 was too enraged to make any utterance, but 
 murder gleamed in his eye. Thinking the way 
 was clear, Vivian made a dash for the door, but 
 the woman flung herself in her way in time to 
 bar the passage. The girl turned to the pews 
 
 239
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 again, but her advantage was lost, and Hester 
 came leaping at her and before she could make 
 the pew he had her in his clutches. She felt 
 his fingers closing around her throat and as 
 they did he gritted his teeth like a wild animal. 
 She looked up into his face but she could read 
 no mercy there. 
 
 240
 
 THE STRUGGLE IN THE CHURCH
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 THE STBUGGLE IN THE CHUECH 
 
 THE Simmonses, personification of hospital- 
 ity as they were, insisted that George 
 Thorpe should stay with them while he con- 
 tinued in the city. He was glad to do this, for 
 he felt that the interest which Lettie and he 
 held in common was shared by them. Accord- 
 ingly he transferred his effects from the hotel 
 to their home. He had been with them a fort- 
 night and each evening as he entered the door 
 after a day of plodding the city, Lettie 's eyes 
 would meet his with the ever questioning query 
 of his success. It was fortunate that her work 
 as a member of the stock company was as ar- 
 duous as it was. Each week a new part had 
 to be learned and this helped to take her mind 
 
 243
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 away for a time, at least, from the lost brother 
 and sister. 
 
 One night after the performance they were 
 gathered about the family board for the cus- 
 tomary midnight luncheon, and George was re- 
 counting his experiences of the day, and de- 
 claring he was almost discouraged, when Mrs. 
 Simmons declared, "I've found a way. Why 
 not go to the fortune teller!" 
 
 All but Lettie laughed at the suggestion, but 
 Lettie seconded Mrs. Simmons. "Everything 
 else has proved futile. Why not?" she echoed. 
 
 "Laugh, if you want to," continued Mrs. 
 Simmons, "but one of the members of the com- 
 pany has been to a woman that has told her 
 wonderful things. She does it with seashells." 
 
 "I do not want to hear wonderful things," 
 declared George ; "all I want to know is where 
 Vivian and Tom are. If there is any witch 
 that can tell me that, she will be welcome to all 
 I possess. Why, I cannot sleep nights with 
 the thought of that innocent girl all alone 
 
 244
 
 THE STRUGGLE IN THE CHUECH 
 
 out in the world." He hid his face in his 
 hands. 
 
 The incident closed the talk for the night, 
 but the next morning as George was leaving 
 the house Lettie followed him to the door. 
 "George, I have the address of that fortune 
 teller. Why not try it, anyway?" 
 
 "I am desperate enough to do anything, but 
 this seems so simple." 
 
 "I want you to try this, George. I cannot 
 tell why, but I feel that something good will 
 come of it. If I felt strong enough I would go 
 myself. ' ' 
 
 George took the address. He pitied Lettie, 
 and while he had no faith in the experiment, 
 he felt he ought to go to please her. ' * All right, 
 Lettie, I will go, but do not count too much on 
 what she will say." 
 
 The address was in another part of the city 
 and it was late in the afternoon before he ar- 
 rived in the vicinity. The old church was silent 
 and deserted. He thought he had made a mis- 
 
 245
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 take until a passer-by, who knew the neighbor- 
 hood, told him it was the place. 
 
 1 'Pound on the door hard enough," he said, 
 "and you'll bring her. She's always there." 
 
 George profited by his advice and knocked 
 loudly, but to no purpose. Now that he had 
 reached the home of the reputed witch, his zeal 
 became as great as Lettie's, and he looked 
 around to see if there was not some other way 
 to gain entrance. It was almost a religion with 
 Mother Ann (for it was at her door George 
 was standing), never to allow a window to be 
 opened in the lower part of the church. Hester 
 had disregarded her custom when he had first 
 arrived and had opened the window in the room 
 where he had awaited the coming of his moth- 
 er's page, and had drawn back the heavy cur- 
 tains. At his mother's protest he had de- 
 clared that he must have air, and Vivian's en- 
 trance had cut off any further controversy. 
 
 George spied the open window and as it was 
 even with the ground, he made bold to step 
 
 246
 
 THE STRUGGLE IN THE CHURCH 
 
 through it and found himself in a scantily-fur- 
 nished room. Finding no one here, he went 
 through the doorway into the hall and then 
 into the vestibule. Here he heard a wild 
 clamor above. He took it for some perform- 
 ance of the woman he had come to interview, 
 and sat on one of the lower steps of the stairs 
 resolving to wait until she was ready to re- 
 ceive him. Then a woman's voice in an unmis- 
 takable cry of anguish rent the air, and he 
 went up the stairs in great bounds. A woman 
 with her back to him was, from her attitude, 
 evidently blocking the door. Before she saw 
 him he brushed her aside as if she were a 
 feather and rushed into the room. And there 
 he saw Jim Hester, braced against a pew, with 
 a girl across his lap, his fingers around her 
 throat, bending her head back until it was at the 
 very point of breaking. A glance, as he rushed 
 on, told George that the girl was Vivian. It 
 was as if the fury of a thousand men were let 
 loose when his arm shot out and Hester went 
 
 247
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 toppling to the floor, like a piece of lead. 
 George's arms went around Vivian and lifting 
 her he cried hoarsely, "Are you hurt, Vivian? 
 Are you hurt?" 
 
 "Not badly," she panted. "I do not think 
 I am badly hurt, but take me out of here, 
 George. Take me out quickly." 
 
 He did not stop to examine the inert form 
 at his feet over which the old dame was wring- 
 ing her hands, but catching Vivian up he hur- 
 ried out into the street. There he halted a 
 passing cab and an hour later when Lettie 
 opened the door at the Simmons home to let 
 him in she saw he had Vivian in his arms. 
 
 248
 
 IN A CIRCLE OF FRIENDSHIP
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 IN A CIRCLE OF FRIENDSHIP 
 
 HAPPINESS pervaded the little home of 
 the Simmonses. Lettie almost forgot 
 her anxiety to find Tom, so relieved was she to 
 have Vivian by her side again. The Admiral 
 was almost beside himself with joy, and Mrs. 
 Simmons shared this feeling with her good 
 spouse. George Thorpe said little, but felt 
 much. He knew he would never get over re- 
 joicing that he had arrived at the fortune 
 teller's at a time so critical. A moment more 
 and it was likely Hester would have killed 
 Vivian. As it was, beyond the mental strain 
 to which she had been subjected, she was but 
 little hurt. Again with her friends, she was 
 rapidly getting over this. 
 A week had passed and no word had been 
 251
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 heard of either Hester or his mother. Thorpe 
 had left him in such a condition that he had 
 not been able to follow them. Admiral Sim- 
 mons was strong for calling on the law to 
 deal with the fellow, but this would mean the 
 bringing of Vivian to the front, and the prob- 
 able result that Hester would learn where Lettie 
 was, and so this course was abandoned. "When 
 the Admiral had pressed the matter, Lettie had 
 said, "I have every reason in the world to keep 
 clear of Jim Hester until we find Tom. Then 
 I do not care how soon I meet him." 
 
 "Well," said the Admiral, "have your 
 way, but it does seem pestilential to let a ser- 
 pent like that wander around on the public 
 highway. ' ' 
 
 The Admiral's mind, however, was taken up 
 with a project that was interesting him much 
 more than bringing Jim Hester to justice. He 
 had not been able to summon courage to broach 
 it to Vivian, or to any of her friends, but from 
 the moment she was brought to his house by 
 
 252
 
 IN A CIRCLE OF FRIENDSHIP 
 
 George Thorpe he was eaten up with eager- 
 ness to have her become a member of his stock 
 company. It would be the glowing triumph 
 of his managerial career to introduce to the 
 public such an actress as he believed Vivian 
 to be. How long he could have refrained from 
 the subject without reaching the final point of 
 tension it is impossible to say, but Vivian her- 
 self all unwittingly opened an avenue for him. 
 George had returned to the island with mes- 
 sages from her to her parents. It was the first 
 opportunity she had had safely to communicate 
 with them, and a great burden was taken away 
 when he had sailed for Mackinac. 
 
 George was to return the following week 
 with news from home, and she would then know 
 whether the folks there had heard some word 
 of Tom. Her mind easier with these cares pro- 
 vided for, she turned to the problem of her 
 future in the city. The Simmonses as well as 
 Lettie had been souls of generosity in their 
 treatment of her. This she appreciated to the 
 
 253
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 full, at the same time feeling that now her 
 strength had returned, she must be dependent 
 on them no longer. So when Vivian, hoping 
 there might be some position about the thea- 
 ter which she could fill, asked the Admiral for 
 help and advice, he said, striving as he did so 
 to conceal his delight, "You may begin just as 
 soon as you wish. I've a place in the company 
 for you." 
 
 "I did not mean that. I thought you might 
 have some work behind the scenes or in the of- 
 fice. I was not thinking of acting." 
 
 " Aye, but I was. The stage is the only 
 place in a theater for you. Why, my dear, you 
 are an actress. That is written in your stars." 
 
 Vivian smiled. "I cannot quite believe that. 
 It is so strange. You know, I have never been 
 very brave, though the night I played Eliza 
 I seemed to be caught up and carried on through 
 the part in spite of myself. I fear I would 
 not be equal to it again." 
 
 "I'm the one to worry about that," replied 
 254
 
 IN A CIRCLE OF FRIENDSHIP 
 
 the Admiral. "If you join my company be- 
 cause I insist on it and then you fail, it will be 
 my fault. Besides," he added diplomatically, 
 "I'll give you a small part to begin with." 
 
 "If you really want me to, I will," she an- 
 swered. "I must do something, and you have 
 so much confidence in me you inspire a little in 
 myself. Since I have always kept away 
 from people it seems strange to be facing 
 an audience. That other night, though, the 
 footlights and the sea of faces I saw across 
 them only seemed to encourage me, and it was 
 just like a delightful dream." 
 
 "I tell you, girl, it is because you are a born 
 actress. Why, you love those footlights just 
 like a soldier loves the smell of powder or a 
 sailor the whiff of the sea." 
 
 When Lettie was told that Vivian had con- 
 sented to go on the stage again she agreed it 
 was a wise plan. She would have been willing 
 to have gone on indefinitely sharing her earn- 
 ings with Vivian, but she had a premonition 
 
 255
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 that her waning strength would not warrant her 
 in doing so. She was also impressed with the 
 Admiral's account of Vivian's acting the night 
 she was sick in the lake town, especially as 
 his enthusiasm was confirmed by other mem- 
 bers of the company. It was decided that the 
 name of the young actress should appear on 
 the bills as Miss Vivian. It was believed this 
 would be sufficient to conceal the knowledge of 
 whom she really was from Hester if he chanced 
 upon the advertisement. The name Vivian 
 was not an unusual surname and would meet 
 the requirements of the case. 
 
 Having come to an agreement the old actor 
 forgot all about his promise to give Vivian ' ' a 
 small part to begin with.'* He had been plan- 
 ning a reviyal of ' ' The Cricket on the Hearth, ' ' 
 in which he was to play Caleb Plummer, and 
 Vivian was promptly cast for the part of Ber- 
 tha, his blind daughter. Mrs. Simmons was to 
 appear as Mrs. Fielding and Lettie as May. 
 While it was the custom for the stock company 
 
 256
 
 IN A CIRCLE OF FRIENDSHIP 
 
 to revive some old play each week, when a pro- 
 duction met with more than usual favor it was 
 continued for two and three weeks and some- 
 times longer if the interest of the public war- 
 ranted it. The Admiral was delighted with 
 the rehearsals and declared, "We'll catch 
 them with this. It is going to be a record 
 breaker." 
 
 Vivian approached her part with consider- 
 able timidity, which lessened as she grew fa- 
 miliar with it and with the other members of 
 the company, several of whom were new to her ; 
 for the Admiral had recognized the need of a 
 stronger and better cast in the city than he 
 carried with him on his barn-storming tours. 
 The character of Bertha was well suited to her 
 soft and gentle manner, and though she went 
 through her part at the rehearsals very quietly, 
 all the members of the cast agreed that she 
 would give a satisfactory performance. When 
 the Admiral heard his fellow players talking 
 in this way, he said little, but smiling to him- 
 
 257
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 self he would inwardly observe: "When the 
 curtain swings up and the inspiration of the 
 audience gets to working, that girl is going to 
 surprise the natives. " 
 
 258
 
 THE PLAYER GIRL
 
 CHAPTER XXin 
 
 THE PLAYER GIRL 
 
 WHEN George Thorpe returned from the 
 island and found that Vivian was about 
 to make her debut at the Admiral's theater, he 
 was nonplused. One of the things he had been 
 anxious to see her parents about was their 
 willingness to have him make the island girl his 
 wife, and having received their approval he 
 had come back with hope battling with fear in 
 his heart to make his appeal. George did not 
 know whether or not Vivian loved him. He 
 had known for years that next to Tom he was 
 closer to her heart than any other young man 
 she knew, but she had met so few and her 
 world had been so small that this gave him no 
 great confidence. Recently, since trouble had 
 come so heavily upon her and her people, he 
 
 261
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 realized she was drawn closer to him than ever, 
 though whether this was a strengthening of 
 the old sisterly affection or something deeper 
 he could not be sure. His heart had swelled 
 with the thought of all the hardships and sor- 
 rows she had passed through, and he longed 
 to take her in his arms and shelter her hence- 
 forth from the ruder blasts of life's storm. 
 
 It was for this reason that he was disappoint- 
 ed when he found that Vivian was to appear on 
 the stage. The stories the Simmonses had told 
 him, as well as the other members of the com- 
 pany who had seen Vivian in the part of Eliza, 
 had convinced him that she was gifted with un- 
 usual histrionic talent, and this he, knowing full 
 well her sweetness and winsome ways, could 
 easily believe. His love for Vivian was too un- 
 selfish to make him wish to stand in her way if 
 she could go out to a career of usefulness and 
 greatness, but he was disappointed none the 
 less. 
 
 The news George brought from the island 
 262
 
 THE PLAYER GIEL 
 
 was very comforting to Vivian, for she learned 
 that her parents were well and that affairs at 
 home were happier than they had been for 
 many a day, now that they knew their daugh- 
 ter was safe and well. The crushing sorrows 
 of the year had told on them, but George 
 had brought them hope and confidence that 
 after all there might be brighter days on 
 ahead. 
 
 Both of the old folks had sent word by him to 
 Vivian that they would be made very happy 
 if she confided herself to his care, but this part 
 of his message George did not deliver when 
 he found the turn that Vivian's path had taken 
 while he was absent. He resolved to content 
 himself a while longer, worshiping from afar. 
 If events warranted it he would declare him- 
 self later. 
 
 If George had been lacking in consideration, 
 it may have been that he would have found his 
 prospects with Vivian better than he dared 
 hope. It was entirely foreign to her, to allow 
 
 263
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 any man to see first the feelings of her heart. 
 Whether she loved George was a question she 
 had never put to herself, or even thought of in 
 definite form. All his goodness and loyalty 
 had planted in the garden of her affections 
 seeds that even the slightest awakening might 
 germinate into love. The awakening might 
 have come if George had brushed aside all 
 thoughts except those of his own happiness, and 
 have pressed his cause. He was too unselfish 
 to do this, unless he first was sure that Vivian's 
 promise of artistic success would not mean 
 more to her, than his devotion. 
 
 The opening night for the " Cricket on the 
 Hearth" came and the theater was crowded as 
 it was to be for many a night after. How fa- 
 miliar to all the world is the story of Caleb 
 Plummer, the gray old toy maker, and his 
 blind daughter, Bertha. The story of his all- 
 absorbing love for her and how he deceived her, 
 believing she would be happier if she thought 
 the little cracked nutshell of a house was an 
 enchanted home with gay colors on the walls 
 
 264
 
 THE PLAYER GIRL 
 
 and shining wood in the beams and panels, 
 believing that he, her father, was still young 
 and handsome with his coat of bright blue, 
 believing that Tackleton, old Caleb's em- 
 ployer, ill-natured and exacting, was the guard- 
 ian angel of their lives, his harsh words being 
 but jests to make them merry. The story of 
 how Bertha came to love the Tackleton her poor 
 old father painted for her, and how she became 
 nearly heart-broken when she found he was 
 to marry May Fielding, compelling her 
 father to tell her the truth of how he had mis- 
 led her to make her happier. 
 
 The curtain rose and soon old Caleb was on 
 the stage with his, "Good evening, John. 
 Good evening, mum. Good evening, Tilly. 
 Good evening, unbeknown. How's baby, mum? 
 Boxer's pretty well, I hope." 
 
 The Admiral had played this part before and 
 he was a prime favorite in it with his clientele. 
 They had laughed and wept with him as the 
 goodness of the humble toy maker and his ten- 
 
 265
 
 derness for his blind daughter became as vivid 
 as life to them. 
 
 Bertha does not appear until the second act. 
 As the curtain rises, old Caleb is seen working 
 on a toy house, while he soliloquizes over his 
 growing weakness and age and his fear that 
 Bertha will discover it. A door swings back 
 and Vivian appears. With the uncertain step 
 of the blind she crosses the stage. Caleb meets 
 her. This is a new member of the company the 
 audience has never seen before. Her face, 
 fresh and bright, her golden hair, her grace so 
 charming catches them at once. They wish her 
 eyes were open. They would like to see them. 
 
 And then they listen; she speaks, her voice 
 like a soft silvery bell, and as they hear her, 
 ' * Father, so you were out in the rain last night 
 in your beautiful new great coat,'* they are 
 bewitched. Nor is it by the actress, but by the 
 blind girl. Vivian has become Bertha and has 
 sunk all of herself into the soul of the girl who 
 cannot see. And the girl has become at once 
 
 266
 
 THE PLAYER GIKL 
 
 so lovable, so delicate, so pathetic that Caleb 
 has not read half his line before the low mur- 
 mur that gathers force from parquet to gal- 
 lery bursts in loud applause. A moment later 
 when she cries out her delight as she pictures 
 how her father must look in that blue coat- 
 that bright blue coat all the house joins in her 
 merriment and makes the rafters ring, and then 
 when so tenderly, so very tenderly, she tells of 
 the little plant beside her pillow as she sleeps 
 and how she turns it to the sun in the morning, 
 they weep with her and are ready to curse 
 Tackleton for his hard and wicked spirit. And 
 so the evening swept along, until the long-lost 
 brother returns at last from the golden South 
 Americas, and the good are blessed and made 
 happy, the wrongs repented and all are as 
 merry as the wedding bells that are ringing so 
 
 gayly. 
 
 The play is over, the plaudits have ceased, 
 and the audience is streaming through the 
 aisles into the streets. As they pass, George 
 
 267
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 Thorpe stands to one side and hears their com- 
 ments and from all there is but one theme ; the 
 beauty and the grace of the girl actress who 
 had that night made for them a picture of the 
 great novelist's Bertha so delightful and so 
 precious that they were never to forget it. He 
 shares their pleasure with them, though sorrow 
 tugs at his heart; for it seems to him that 
 Vivian is farther away from him than ever. 
 
 268
 
 THE PLAY'S CLIMAX
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 THE PLAY'S CLIMAX 
 
 THERE is no telling how long "The Cricket 
 on the Hearth" would have run its course 
 at the theater if the ever versatile Admiral 
 had not become possessed with another idea. 
 After the first night the theater was thronged 
 with the crowds that were anxious to see the 
 new star that had come athwart the dramatic 
 sky. The critics of the metropolitan dailies 
 came hurrying to the Admiral's unpretentious 
 play-house to view this new-risen light, and 
 they were as fulsome in their praises as the 
 most undiscerning patron of the drama, who 
 judges with his emotions, rather than his mind, 
 could wish. Managers, too, came scurrying 
 from everywhere, and their advent began to 
 be followed by offers so pregnant with prom- 
 
 271
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 ises of riches and fame that even the Admiral 
 advised Vivian that these could do better by her 
 than he could, but she steadfastly refused them 
 all. It was about this time that he determined 
 that before the season closed she should appear 
 as Juliet. He said nothing of this at first, 
 being content with the present prosperity that 
 had come to his house and also because he had 
 no member of his present company to whom 
 he was willing to intrust the part of Borneo. 
 While he was thus turning the matter over in 
 his mind, he met an old theatrical acquaintance 
 whose home was in Denver, but who was on a 
 brief visit to Chicago. His old friend had seen 
 Vivian and as he waxed eloquent in his eulogy 
 of her the Admiral revealed his purpose to 
 him, and lamented his lack of a Borneo. 
 
 "Why, I can tell you of a Borneo that you 
 can get. He has been playing all the spring 
 at a Denver theater," his friend broke in. "He 
 is a new man evidently, but one of the best ro- 
 mantic actors we have had in our part of the 
 
 272
 
 THE PLAY'S CLIMAX 
 
 country. He is handsome, superbly built, and 
 has a voice full of melody. He will make you 
 a Borneo that will match Miss Vivian to a T." 
 
 "Who is he?" asked the Admiral, getting in- 
 terested. 
 
 "His name is Vincent Strong. He was play- 
 ing with some road company, the rankest kind 
 of barn-stormers, too, when one of our Denver 
 managers picked him up and he has proved a 
 jewel." 
 
 The Admiral commissioned his friend to en- 
 gage the western prodigy for the part of 
 Eomeo, if possible, and then he returned home 
 full of his project. 
 
 If Vivian had grown up with the stage and 
 had an inkling of its traditions, she would have 
 suffered the fear and trembling with which ex- 
 perienced actresses approach the part of 
 Juliet, but she was innocent of all this. She 
 had drawn heavily from the Admiral's wealth 
 of stage craft and was ready to take his word 
 in all matters of the mimic world. So she 
 
 273
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 commenced under his instruction to study and 
 learn the part of Juliet. It was not long be- 
 fore she realized the deep note the immortal 
 bard had struck when he limned the character 
 of the pure and noble Juliet. Here was truly 
 the ideal of glorious womanhood. Vivian 
 loved the daughter of the Capulets at once and 
 threw her heart and soul into a study of ro- 
 mance's fancy. The Admiral was ever at her 
 elbow with suggestion or criticism and long 
 before the date was set for the first rehearsal 
 she was well versed in her part. Then came 
 the word that Vincent Strong would come and 
 play Romeo. 
 
 The date for the opening night was an- 
 nounced, the advertisements were spread and 
 the company commenced rehearsals in earnest. 
 The actor from the West did not appear at the 
 first rehearsals and later it was found that he 
 could not obtain a release from his Denver 
 manager in time to be at rehearsals at all. 
 Telegrams and letters passed each other 
 
 274
 
 THE PLAY'S CLIMAX 
 
 swiftly, but the western manager was obdurate 
 and the disgusted Admiral finally decided that 
 Strong would have to get along with the dress- 
 rehearsal, which was to take place the after- 
 noon of the evening which would witness the 
 first performance. Strong had played Borneo 
 for several weeks quite recently and would be 
 prepared for the part. But this was not to be 
 all the trouble. The last afternoon came and 
 with it a telegram from Strong. His train had 
 been delayed and would not arrive in Chicago 
 until nine o'clock that night. The seats were 
 sold out and the gallery gods were even now 
 gathering in line at the entrance to the gallery, 
 so anxious were they for choice positions to 
 view what an eavesdropper might have heard 
 them declare was going to be an event in the 
 theatrical world. To await the arrival of the 
 actor meant to delay the play, and this the 
 veteran manager did not want to do. "We 
 might wait an hour," he declared, "and then 
 the infernal train would be late and we would 
 
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 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 be everlastingly dished. But in the name of 
 holy Jerusalem, what shall we do?" 
 
 Vivian was quick to meet the situation. 
 "Let someone double for the first act. Mr. 
 Strong will be here in time for the second." 
 
 "The very thing if we have the man," cried 
 the Admiral. "Is there a Borneo here?" 
 
 The actor who was cast for Friar Laurence 
 declared that in his younger years he had 
 played the part, though now the lines were 
 scarcely in his memory. 
 
 "That is nothing," cried the Admiral, "you 
 can learn the part for the first act between 
 now and night easily, and with a youngish wig 
 you will make a gallant Borneo. Vivian," and 
 he made a sweeping bow to her, "I knew, my 
 dear, you were an actress down to the marrow, 
 but this is my first introduction to you as a 
 stage manager. You are a wonder. ' ' 
 
 A telegram was forwarded to Strong, telling 
 him of the arrangement. A carriage was to 
 meet him at the train to carry him from station 
 
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 THE PLAY'S CLIMAX 
 
 to footlights with all speed. The Admiral 
 even urged him to get into the baggage car 
 and open his trunks and dress his part there, 
 if possible. 
 
 The first act of the play went off smoothly 
 enough. The Admiral had made a little 
 speech before the curtain ascended, ex- 
 plaining to the audience the predicament and 
 begging their indulgence, which they were feel- 
 ing too good-humored to refuse and, in truth, 
 so kindly that the temporary Borneo was given 
 a hand that made him blush with pleasure. A 
 telephone message to the Admiral told him that 
 Strong was on his way to the theater in a car- 
 riage, costumed and ready to step on the stage 
 the moment he passed through the stage door. 
 
 In a box somewhat back and in the shadow 
 so that their presence might not distract their 
 beloved friend, sat George Thorpe and Lettie, 
 eager for the second act. In the arrangement 
 of the play, this was the balcony scene of 
 Shakespeare's incomparable offering to the 
 
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 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 shrine of lovers of all future ages. Lettie had 
 been cast for the part of Lady Capulet, but her 
 strength had so worn away that a week before 
 she had had to give way to someone else. To- 
 night she felt stronger than she had for weeks. 
 Though the corner of the box where she sat was 
 dark, George could see the gleaming fire in her 
 eyes. 
 
 Behind the scenes, the Admiral waited at the 
 stage entrance until a carriage drove up. 
 "He's here," he shouted, "ring up the cur- 
 tain." Up, up it went, and Capulet 's orchard 
 lay spread before the spectators, and from a 
 balcony window they caught now and then 
 glimpses of Juliet as she hovered near the 
 casing. And then Eomeo entered. Vivian 
 peered down through the lattice work of her 
 window to see the newcomer and to hear his 
 words. Deep and resonant sound the lines, 
 "He jests at scars who never felt a wound." 
 It was the face and the voice of her brother 
 Tom. 
 
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 THE PLAY'S CLIMAX 
 
 George and Lettie in their box start up. It 
 is their friend. It is the long-lost Tom. It is 
 with difficulty they restrain themselves. He, 
 all unconscious of the nearness of his loved 
 ones, continues his rhapsody. Vivian above 
 him in her balcony holds her beating heart and 
 represses the rapturing cries that are choking 
 in her throat. "Tom, Tom, Tom," she can 
 scarcely keep them still. In a moment she 
 must speak, and what will she do then? What 
 will her brother do? Mrs. Simmons, who is 
 playing the part of nurse and who is at her 
 side, observes her agitation and thinking it 
 comes from the excitement of the stage, tries to 
 soothe her. Meanwhile below comes clear and 
 musically the words, 
 
 "Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, 
 Having some business, do entreat her eyes 
 To twinkle in their spheres till they return. 
 What if her eyes were theirs, they in her 
 head? 
 
 279
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 The brightness of her cheek would shame those 
 
 stars, 
 
 As daylight doth a lamp ; her eye in heaven 
 Would through the airy region stream so 
 
 bright 
 That birds would sing and think it were not 
 
 night. 
 See, how she " 
 
 He had reached these words when a figure 
 strange to the play of "Romeo and Juliet" 
 sprang upon the stage and cried, ' * He is a mur- 
 derer, arrest him ! ' ' 
 
 The intruder was Jim Hester. 
 
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 THE SKEIN UNTANGLED
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 THE SKEIN UNTANGLED 
 
 r I ^HE audience was in an uproar. It was 
 -L evident even to those unfamiliar with the 
 play that this man in modern garb was not 
 part of it. He must be a lunatic, and many 
 feared for the safety of the actor, whose ap- 
 pearance and voice, though he had scarcely 
 uttered a dozen lines, had won instant favor 
 with them. Two officers had been standing at 
 the door and no sooner had the supposed mad- 
 man appeared than they started forward and 
 were over the footlights and upon the stage 
 before the curtain came swinging down in an- 
 swer to the command of the Admiral, who was 
 almost beside himself at the intrusion. 
 
 Tom stood as transfixed at the appear- 
 ance of Hester. He had hesitated when the 
 
 283
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 Chicago engagement was offered him, for he 
 felt it was a little closer to his old home than 
 his safety warranted, but the opportunity had 
 been so promising that he could not resist it, 
 and scattering discretion to the winds, had 
 come* And now at the very eve of his arrival 
 fate had brought Hester to the theater and he 
 stood disclosed. 
 
 As he stood, he felt soft arms circle about 
 his neck and he found himself looking down 
 into the face of Vivian, his sister. 
 
 " Vivian, you?" he ejaculated. 
 
 "Yes, Tom, dear Tom. Oh, I am glad to 
 see you, but why did you come ? ' ' 
 
 In the meantime the officers with the as- 
 sistance of the Admiral and half the company 
 were trying to remove Hester from the stage, 
 still believing him mad. But he had fortified 
 himself on a raised elevation in the garden 
 scene and with the drop at his back and a 
 heavy piece of stage furniture in his hand he 
 kept them at bay. "Listen to me, will you," 
 
 284
 
 THE SKEIN UNTANGLED 
 
 he shouted. "Listen to me. I tell you that 
 man is not any Vincent Strong, as his name 
 runs on your playbill. I recognized him the 
 minute he set foot on the stage. He is Tom 
 Summers and he is wanted for the murder of 
 Louis Manette on Mackinac Island." 
 
 Still they believed him mad and still he iter- 
 ated and reiterated his words, the meanwhile 
 keeping them off by waving the garden stool 
 which he held threateningly above his head. 
 At last one of the officers, thinking to soothe the 
 man turned to the actor, whose every attention 
 seemed to be given to the Juliet of the play, and 
 said, "Sir, is this true? Are you the Tom 
 Summers wanted on Mackinac Island, charged 
 with murder!" 
 
 Like a bombshell came the answer, "I am." 
 
 "Yes," shrieked Hester, "he murdered 
 Louis Manette. I saw him with my own eyes. ' ' 
 
 "That is a lie, Jim Hester, and you know 
 it." 
 
 Everybody turned to face the woman who 
 285
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 had come rapidly through the wings and who 
 with finger pointed straight at Hester had cried 
 out the words. 
 
 "Lettie, Lettie," he almost screamed, "you 
 here?" and then almost pleadingly, "Lettie, do 
 not make a fool of yourself. You know he 
 killed your father. ' ' 
 
 "I know, and you know, Jim Hester, that he 
 did not, though he himself believes that he 
 did," came the reply in measured tones. "I 
 killed my father myself." 
 
 "You fool," shrieked Hester, now mad with 
 passion, "you have saved his neck, but you will 
 lose your own." 
 
 Tom stepped forward and taking Lettie 's 
 hands, cried, "Lettie, what do you mean? I 
 do not understand." 
 
 "0 Tom," and she looked at him lovingly, 
 "I have been praying for this so many days. 
 With my own lips I have longed to lift from 
 you the burden which was not yours and at 
 
 286
 
 THE SKEIN UNTANGLED 
 
 last God has sent you in answer to my 
 prayers. ' ' 
 
 Then turning to the company now gathered 
 around them, she said, "The day Tom Sum- 
 mers came to my home on the island to make 
 peace with my father and ask his favor on his 
 marriage to me, I had been in the barn and had 
 been having an angry debate with my father. 
 I had descended from the loft where he was 
 and had thrown myself upon a bed of hay in the 
 first story of the barn, weeping in my indig- 
 nation and anger, when Tom passed through 
 without seeing me and mounted to where my 
 father was. He had scarcely done so when Jim 
 Hester entered the barn and together we over- 
 heard the quarrel that resulted from my 
 father's implacable mood. When Tom threw 
 my father back and he fell through the trap- 
 door into the room below where we were, father 
 was not injured, but sprang to his feet and 
 with some mutterings of having the life of 
 
 287
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 Tom he started again toward the ladder to 
 make his way up to him. God forgive me, but 
 I was so inflamed with his cruelty to me, and 
 fearful that he would do some harm to Tom, 
 that I sprang forward and seizing the pitch- 
 fork without considering, without realizing 
 what I was doing, I stabbed him with it and he 
 fell dead at my feet. Then Hester seized me 
 by the arm and half dragged me out of the 
 barn and back into the house. A moment later 
 when Tom reached my father's side and found 
 him dead, he naturally supposed that when he 
 had fallen through the trapdoor he had fallen 
 on the fork and met his death. I know from 
 what his sister, Vivian, has told me that he 
 thought the people would laugh at his story 
 and would believe he had killed my father in 
 a quarrel about me. ' ' 
 
 "You fool, Lettie, you fool," shrieked Hester 
 again, and before anyone could stop him, he 
 sprang forward and dealt the girl a blow with 
 the garden stool, across the chest. The blood 
 
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 THE SKEIN UNTANGLED 
 
 spurted from her mouth and she fell back into 
 the arms of the Admiral. 
 
 The officers rushed upon him. He leaped 
 backward in frightful plunges and went clean 
 through the drop scene at his back. They 
 heard him stumble and then there was a crush- 
 ing sound. A trapdoor had given way when 
 he had landed upon it with tremendous force 
 and he fell through; as it sprang back into 
 place with lightning speed it caught his neck 
 and broke it as quickly and as neatly as if it 
 had been the gallows it should have been. 
 
 They carried Lettie to a greenroom and a 
 physician was summoned from the audience, 
 now dismissed without their cherished pleas- 
 ure. "When he reached her side he shook 
 his head, and whispered to her friends as they 
 gathered round, "She may live an hour, but 
 no longer." 
 
 Lettie opened her eyes. "Send for some- 
 one to take my oath," she whispered, "I am 
 willing to go and leave it all, but I must live 
 
 289
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 long enough to clear Tom, my beloved Tom," 
 and she looked at him so fondly that he sank 
 on his knees beside her couch and buried his 
 face in his hands. A notary came and Tom 
 urged her to let the matter rest, not to disturb 
 her last moments with thoughts of him. 
 
 "Ah, but, Tom, my love," she fondly whis- 
 pered, "if you want me to die happy, if you 
 really want me to be undisturbed, let me have 
 my way. I must know that you are safe, and 
 then I am willing to go." 
 
 And so she had her way. The deposition 
 was taken ; she weakly scrawled her name across 
 its page, and when she saw a sufficient number 
 of witnesses had signed it, she smiled happily 
 and said, "God has been very good to me, 
 very good. I have wanted to see you so much, 
 Tom, and now to have you here, to feel your 
 arms around me, to hear you whisper in my 
 ear, to have Vivian here, and the dear Admiral 
 and his wife, and George, it makes me su- 
 premely happy. 
 
 290
 
 THE SKEIN UNTANGLED 
 
 "And, Tom," she whispered as her breath 
 grew shorter, "Tom, I believe the gates of 
 Paradise are ajar. I know God has forgiven 
 me my wrong. I have wept it out before Him, 
 prostrate in the dark hours of the night, oh, 
 so many times, and because He is merciful I 
 know He has forgiven me." 
 
 It was very hard to give up this quiet, reliant, 
 brave girl. Each of those about her had been 
 drawn very close to her in the past months. To 
 the Admiral and his wife, she had been like a 
 daughter; to George Thorpe, she was a dear 
 friend and sister; to Vivian, she had been an 
 angel of protection, as well as her good genius ; 
 to Tom, who had found her, only to lose her, 
 she was all that a woman could be to a man. 
 His tenderness and care for her, in these mo- 
 ments was a comfort beyond words. She 
 looked her gratitude, speaking it as long as she 
 could, and when speech failed her, and the in- 
 evitable moment was at hand, her eyes told 
 them that she wished them near. 
 
 291
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 They gathered closer, the tears flowing un- 
 restrained, and then she started up and cried, 
 "I see them, the green fields and the still wa- 
 ters," and then sank back and spoke no more. 
 
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 BACK TO THE ISLAND
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 BACK TO THE ISLAND 
 
 IN a little lot at Rosehill, loved and tended 
 by the Admiral and his wife because their 
 only child lay sleeping there, Lettie was laid 
 away. The passionate, strong-willed girl of 
 the Canadian hills was gone from earth for- 
 ever, but .those who knew her best were to carry 
 her memory through the long years, and to 
 cherish it as a dear possession. 
 
 When the funeral was over the thoughts of 
 the little group from the island turned home- 
 ward. In their sorrow a peaceful calm came 
 to their hearts. They were free to go home. 
 The island home of their youth was open to 
 them and none could say them nay. They re- 
 mained with the Admiral and his wife for a few 
 days, whose sorrow was too great to let them 
 
 295
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAC 
 
 all go immediately. They were interested in 
 Tom's story of how strangely fate had acted 
 in bringing him back to Vivian and to liberty. 
 While in the West he had met with an itinerant 
 theatrical company which was traveling from 
 place to place giving performances in which 
 both art and patronage were scant. A discour- 
 aged member of the aggregation had left them 
 that day and this opportunity, poor as it was, 
 Tom counted a godsend. He took to his 
 new life so readily and excelled so quickly that 
 a theatrical manager who by chance saw him 
 act, gave him the engagement in Denver, where 
 he had won his spurs. 
 
 The day they said good-by to the Admiral's 
 home, the good old man said very gently as 
 they were gathered about his board for the last 
 time, " Vivian, my dear girl, all our hearts 
 have been too full for me to speak to you before, 
 but before you go, and here in the presence of 
 our friends, I want to ask you whether you in- 
 tend to remain on the island or shall you return 
 
 296
 
 BACK TO THE ISLAND 
 
 to the stage ! I speak of this because, my dear, 
 you have great talent, very great talent, and I 
 fain would not see it lost to the world. In my 
 little theater I cannot give you the opportunity 
 that you deserve, but I know that great mana- 
 gers are ready to do this, and if you accept 
 there is everything that life has to give before 
 you, riches, fame and a glorious career." 
 
 "My dear Admiral," spoke George Thorpe, 
 "I will answer for Vivian if I may, for she 
 has promised to be my wife," and he smiled 
 happily at her. "She has foreseen some such 
 proffer as this, but neither she nor I care for 
 these things which the world sets so great 
 a value upon. Yonder in the straits is a little 
 island we love, there is our home and there we 
 will live our lives, quietly and, God grant, use- 
 fully. We were all happier there than we have 
 been in the great wide world and we are going 
 back there to find our lost happiness." 
 
 It was the second morning after and Vivian 
 stood in the prow of a great, white steamer 
 
 297
 
 VIVIAN OF MACKINAG 
 
 that was plunging its nose through the north- 
 ern waters of old Michigan. Since dawn she 
 had stood there and looked ever ahead through 
 the dashing spray, as the beautiful craft which 
 bore her drew nearer and nearer every moment 
 to the little island in the straits. She would 
 soon see it now. The sun as it rose had driven 
 every cloud out of the sky, and its azure was as 
 clear and as lovely as the eyes of the girl that 
 swept it with the same raptures that many a 
 happy day agone she had scanned it from her 
 cliff. 
 
 The craft pressed on through the silent wa- 
 ters. Vivian, the only one who has ventured 
 to rise with the light of coming day, awaits 
 alone the first sight of the gem of the inland 
 sea. When yonder point is turned it will be 
 in view. Nearer and nearer, her heart almost 
 leaping in her breast with joy; ah, there it is 
 resting on the waters, the sun kissing its 
 crested hill tops, the waves dashing against the 
 foot of its green cliffs, the everlasting blue at 
 
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 BACK TO THE ISLAND 
 
 its feet, circling it in all its glory of old. On 
 yonder beach her loved ones await her, on yon- 
 der island top is the sweet old home, and above 
 yonder waters, raising its head as proudly as 
 of yore, is her cliff. No more is she the wan- 
 dering girl in the great, unknown world, but 
 again and forevermore she is Vivian of Mack- 
 inac. 
 
 THE END 
 
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