UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA SAN DIEGO 3 1822017140815 UNIVERSITY Of CALIFORNIA SAN DIEGO /o U . N VE ,PSITY OF CAJLIFORNI. 3 1822017140815 Central University Library University of California, San Diego Please Note: This item is subject to recall. Date Due DEC * B34 APR 2 4 199* Cl 39 (7/93) UCSDLJ3. Shielding his eyes with his hand, Soltaire peered long and earnestly into the valley at his feet without moving a muscle. SOLTAIRE A Romance of the Willey Slide and the White Mountains BY GEORGE FRANKLYN WILLEY Illustrated by Hiram P. Barnes MANCHESTER, N. H. New Hampshire Publishing Corporation 1902 COPYRIGHT, 1902 BY GEORGE FRANKLYN WILLEY Entered at Stationer's Hall, London Foreign copyrights secured Rights of translation and dramatization reserved PRINTED BY RUMFORD PRINTING COMPANY CONCORD. N. H. TO GEN. M. C. WENTWORTH, LIKE THE WRITER A NATIVE OF JACKSON, N. H., AND FAMILIAR WITH THE SCENES DEPICTED HEREIN, THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED AS A TOKEN OF LIFELONG FRIENDSHIP AND ADMIRATION. WHY WRITTEN. The writer of the following story has been from childhood familiar with the White Mountain region. Born within a half-score miles, as the crow flies, of the tragic "Willey slide," and bearing the same name as the family so sud denly eliminated, familiar with the legends of the event, and with the conjectures of the "oldest inhabitants" as to the fate of those who were never found, he has taken the time from his other occupations to put into this romance something both^ of tradition and conjec ture. THE AUTHOR. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. PAGB IN THE PATH OF THE AVALANCHE . .11 CHAPTER II. SOLTAIRE OF THE MOUNTAINS . . 2 5 CHAPTER III. THE GREAT CARBUNCLE . . . .41 CHAPTER IV. BROKEN TIES . .... 67 CHAPTER V. SHELLING PEAS ...... 83 CHAPTER VI. ROMANCE AND REALITY . . . -99 CHAPTER VII. THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS . . . 113 CHAPTER VIII. SOLTAIRE'S SECRET 135 ILLUSTRATIONS. Shielding his eyes with his hand, Soltaire peered long and earnestly into the valley at his feet without moving a muscle, Frontispiece. PAGE. Black Mouutain ..... 20 The bear stopped in his pursuit, and utter ing another and more triumphant snarl . 50 "Look!" he exclaimed, triumphantly; "behold the mountain jewel, the price less diamond ! " . . . . 68-69 Martha had come to the mouth of the cavern, and pushing aside the fir drapery stood looking upon the wide expanse . 75 Once he glanced back over his shoulder with a look which Martha remembered the rest of her life .... 82 "Why are the peas we have got here to shell like the seven falls on Wildcat river yonder ? " . . . . . 90 The vehicle was driven up in front of the hotel 99 The couple soon came in sight of the pe culiar maple . . . . .103 ' ' Grandmother, speak and say that you recognize me Louise" . . .119 She laid her hand silently, trustingly, in his, 143 SOLTAIRE CHAPTER I. IN THE PATH OF THE AVALANCHE. "An everlasting hill was torn From its primeval base, and borne, In gold and crimson vapors dressed, To where a people are at rest. Slowly it came in its mountain wrath, And the forests vanished before its path, And the rude cliffs bowed, and the waters fled, And the living were buried, while over their head They heard the full march of their foe as he sped, And the valley of life was the tomb of the dead." Crawford's Notch is a term to suggest at once to the mind of the tourist a double significance, the nobility and grandeur of man and the grandeur and nobility of the mountains. Those who remember the Patriarch of the Hills, for whom this wild gorge was named, recall a specimen of rugged virility, an ideal mountaineer. 1 2 Soltaire A puny form and weakened intellect might pass among the masses without creating any surprise, but a dwarfed physique is not looked for in the wild domains of Nature. Neither do we look for any ordinary architecture in the mighty formation of these monarchs of New England's mountains, lifting their snow-crowned crests " Like earth's gigantic sentinels Discoursing in the skies." Thirty miles in length from the narrow opening at Fabyan's to the broad outlet of Conway's meadows, for nearly two miles eastward and downward from Crawford's, the Notch is scarcely more than a fissure between two masses of huge rock a defile twenty-two feet in width overhung by rocky ramparts from twelve to twenty feet in height looking as if the giant powers of earth had risen in their might and moved back the mountains so that the river, finding its life current in the In the Path of the Avalanche 13 crystal fountains of the White Hills, might make its escape to the intervales below. As the valley continues it grows wider, though the retreating mountains, Mount Willey on the one side and Mount Web ster on the other, lift their heads to the height of over three thousand feet. Down the rock-ribbed sides of these giants leap clear streams, feeders of the wild Saco. One of these tributaries affords the Silver Cascade, a display of waterfalls no tour ist fails to visit. There is also the Flume, possessing a weird, lonely grandeur, while farther down is that stream of more melancholy interest known as " Nancy's Brook." At once the sad story of the de serted maid seeking her recreant lover is recalled, and the sympathetic comer drops a tear over the unhappy fate of the poor girl who perished here of hunger and cold, when she could no longer continue her search for him. Perhaps a little of the sting of her sorrow is removed by the realization that he suffered for what he 14 Soltaire made her endure, for the spirit of "an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth '' still lives in the human breast. If we look upon the river in the cheer less songs of its rushing waters as lacking sentiment, the dusky hunter, whose snowy canoe first skimmed its foaming current, claimed that it was more divine than human, having sprung from the tears of the Great Manitou in his grief over a fall en people. But the scenery, rather than the conceptions of a race we could never understand, attracts us. From the rugged splendor of the granite gateway to the peace and good cheer of the quiet vales it is impossible to find landscapes more beautiful or sublime. Overhung by the luxuriant foliage of majestic trees lining either bank, the Saco, soon after leaving the Gate, rolls on in a more subdued man ner when in its peaceful moods, through its natural archway of green. But between the river and the elements there is some times war ; and then beware ! In the Path of the Avalanche 15 Crawford's Notch was first seen by a white man, a hunter named Nash, from a treetop on Cherry Mountain, in 1772, only three years before the first battle of the Revolution. Until then the scattered settlers above and around the White Hills had been obliged to travel to the lower settlements by circuitous routes around the mountains. So the discovery of this passway was hailed with pleasure, and the hardy pioneers were soon trying its difficult and dangerous course. The passage, however, proved so toil some and perilous that as early as 1793 a road was laid out from Conway to the town of Coos, and that year a sort of half-way house was built by a man named Davis under the overhanging cliffs of one of the mountains. This dwelling, on account of the tragical fate of a family at one time occupying it, became known as "the Willey House." A little grassy meadow stretched along the river bank in front of the place, and though the 1 6 Soltaire mountain came so near on the other side that a great rock reared its massive front almost over its roof, the surroundings of this isolated home suggested peace and repose. The occasional wayfarer, brav ing the hardships of the lonely pass either on business or pleasure, had reason to bless the sturdy settler who made his hum ble home the haven of comfort to the pil grim. Increased travel called for a better road, and in 1803 this route was incor porated as the tenth turnpike in the state. Immediately streams of traffic passing to and fro between that region and Portland, as well as travelers following where for tune led them, showed the need of this enterprise by greatly increased numbers. In winter it was no uncommon sight to see the winding valley road dotted for a mile at a stretch by teams from the north country laden with pork, cheese, butter, and lard. The horses were tough Can adian animals, able to withstand the In the Path of the Avalanche 17 rigor of the severe climate, while their drivers were tall, stout men of giant frames and sinews of iron, who urged their panting steeds on through the blind ing storms of snow and sleet, or cutting blasts of cold, with loud shouts and blus ter which awoke the mountain solitude far and wide. Henry Hill then lived at this house, while six or seven miles below him was a tavern kept by that patriarch of the Mountains, Abel Crawford, and where the White Mountain House stands was the Roseberry hostelry. Later Mr. Hill moved away and the Davis house re mained empty until, in the summer of 1825, Captain Samuel Willey and his family went there to live. At this time Ethan Crawford lived at the Glen, while his father had removed to the upper end of the Notch, near the site of the present Crawford House. Kept by stalwart men, who were as prompt to brave the perils that beset 1 8 Soltaire the storm-driven wayfarers of the Amer ican Alps as the monks of St. Bernard were to battle for the poor wanderers of the Swiss winterland, these old-time hostelries, could their history be written, would afford an interesting chapter in New England pioneer life. Here, the day's arduous journey done, the tired horses fed and made as comfort able as possible for the long, cold night, the wayfarers having eaten to their fill of the plain but nutritious fare of the times, washed down with generous draughts of old Medford rum, circled about the fire places heaped high with blazing logs, smoked their corn-cob pipes and ex changed the gossip of the day, or if there was nothing of more recent development to hold their attention, narrated anew the thrilling deeds of days not yet grown gray, of bloody scenes in Indian warfare still fresh in memory, or retold the story of that closing act in the great drama of the French and Indian wars, the last retreat In the Path of the Avalanche 19 of the rangers of the North, or the tale of Lovewell's dearly bought victory on the plains of the Saco. The Willeys were genial, hospitable people, and they soon made themselves loved and respected by the travelers who stopped with them during the year which followed. Nothing unusual occurred to break the even tenor of their lives until another June, when they witnessed a scene which made a lasting impression on their minds. One of those landslides which have left their lasting traces on the mountain sides, like the tracks of some mighty road builder, the reddish or yellowish hue of the barren pathway contrasting vividly with the deep green of the for ests, then plunged from the dizzy cliffs overhead into the valley below, leaving a desolate path behind and a mound of ruin where it fell. These slides or ava lanches of earth generally break from their connection with the steep ascent 2O Soltaire near the border of the scrub vegetation where the layer of earth is thin and its hold on the rocks slight. Narrow and shallow at first the avalanche widens and deepens as it moves downward, gaining fresh impetus as it advances, until a broad belt of loose earth and boulders is swept on, bearing with it great areas of forest, with a thunderous noise and shaking the mountain to its very founda tion. It was such a sight as this that Captain Willey and his wife saw one misty June afternoon, but the avalanche passed be yond them without doing any harm. Still, it had so awakened the fears of Captain Willey, that presently he took the precau tion to build a place of refuge a short dis tance from his house to which they could flee in case another avalanche should threaten them. A severe drought set in, so that by the last of August the mountain region seemed crisped to a powder. The dust lay in the :,;-' T> $ -^ i ". /' hJS In the Path of the Avalanche 2 1 road ankle deep, and everywhere vege tation was parched and lifeless. On Sun day, the 25th, a rainstorm broke the dry spell, and steadily increased in violence until on Monday night it had reached un precedented fury and volume. Between nine o'clock that evening and the follow ing dawn the Saco rose twenty-four feet, and its angry, swollen waters swept the valley from the Notch to the intervales of Conway with ruin and desolation. With the experienced eye of a moun taineer, Captain Willey had noticed at sunset the black and ominous appear ance of the heavens, which were belted with column on column of storm-clouds moving slowly and grandly across the western sky in the direction of the north, covering Mount Washington with fold upon fold of the darkest drapery. With a feeling of gladness that the drought was over, and without dreaming of what was to take place before another morning, the doomed family retired at 22 Soltaire half-past ten, though not to sleep. At least the parents remained awake, though it may be some of the five children fell into the innocent slumber of childhood. At eleven a distant rumbling was heard above the sullen roar of the river, rapidly increasing in volume and depth until the deep muttering grew into a hoarse thun der. Understanding what the solemn warning meant, Captain Willey cried, " Hark, Polly ! it is coming. There is no mistaking that sound. Quick the children the refuge before it is too late." Mrs. Willey was already beside the children trying to rouse them for the flight from the house, which it was felt was in the direct course of the oncoming slide. Two men employed by Captain Willey rushed into the room, for the noise was now so loud and ominous as to arouse the deepest sleeper. The rain had ceased, and a few straggling stars were to be In the Path of the Avalanche 23 seen as the little group of frightened peo ple reached the doorway. The tower ing mountain trembled from pinnacle to base under the mighty power assailing it, and the cottage home under its frowning heights rocked like a cradle. The better to protect themselves in their place of refuge the men seized bed ding to bear to the retreat, while Mrs. Willey undertook to guide the children there. Eliza, the oldest, was but twelve, an exceedingly bright and attractive girl, while there were Jeremiah, aged eleven, Martha, aged nine, Elbridge, seven, and Sally, in her mother's arms, only three. Elbridge clung to his older sister, and the rest kept beside their mother. The roar of the maddened river was deafening, but the thunder rolling down from the mountain behind them was more terrifying. No pen has yet written the horror of that situation ; imagination is not vivid enough to portray it. 24 Soltaire " Beware the pine tree's withered branch Beware the awful avalanche !" In that dreadful flight Martha slipped and fell. Her mother was trying to find her when the awful storm reached the little party. The feeble cries of the ill-fated family were lost in the grinding of rocks upon rocks, the descent of forests upon billows of earth, the crash, the shock, the reverberation. Past the chosen spot of death and desolation the runaway river swept on to more peaceful scenes, while overhead the pale stars increased in numbers, and the moon struggled into sight, the cheerless watcher of a cheer less night. CHAPTER II. SOLTAIRE OF THE MOUNTAINS. " There 's a mercy in every place, And mercy, encouraging thought, Gives every affliction a grace, And reconciles man to his lot." About the time the deepening shades of night were settling upon the mountain scene, shutting out alike the landscape and the storm pelting it with summer fury, a solitary figure was outlined on the brink of one of the rocky escarp ments above the Willey home. He pre sented, even for that wild region, a picturesque appearance. He was not an old man, certainly un der fifty, though his hair hanging in wav ing masses about his shoulders and his long and heavy beard were plentifully streaked with silver threads. In height he was scarcely under seven feet, and his 26 Soltaire stalwart figure was clothed in a jacket of fox skins and breeches of buckskin. His feet were encased in moccasins and his head covered with a coonskin cap, the tail of the animal hanging down his back. His only weapon was a long-barreled rifle slung over his left shoulder. Shielding his eyes with his hand, he peered long and earnestly into the val ley at his feet without moving a muscle. Finally he said aloud, as if speaking to another, " I '11 climb my old outpost for a peep into their home, and then I '11 go back to the Soltaryage. Ugh ! the storm rises fast ; it 's going to be a tough night for one to be abroad." With these words he swung himself down the ledge and descended the moun tain for some distance until he came to a huge oak, whose wide-spreading branches grew almost to the ground. Without stopping to look around he began to climb this tree, showing by the Soltaire of the Mountains 27 readiness with which he grasped branch after branch in his ascent that he was following an old, familiar way. When he had ascended the oak for fifty feet or more he paused, but soon began to crawl out on one of its long arms, which inter locked with those of a mighty pine, the tallest and largest tree in that vicinity. He was quickly among the lowest branches of the pine, and his object in ascending the oak was now apparent. He had made that a ladder for him to reach the available portion of the tower ing pine. He did not stop on this stage of his journey until he was well into the heavy top of the latter tree, where he paused, and throwing one leg over a branch to steady himself, parted the dense foliage to look out upon the scene below. He had an extended view up and down the valley, but he looked in neither direction, quickly focusing his gaze on a spot at the foot of the mountain. This 28 Soltaire objective point was the home of the Willeys, above which a thin smoke was swept by the gale from the low, wide- mouthed chimney. No one was astir about the lonely place so far as the soli tary watcher could see. For ten minutes he looked steadily in that direction without shifting his posi tion. The wind howled through the tree- tops with rising fury and the rain beat into his face with merciless attacks ; but he paid no heed to either, until at last he seemed suddenly to awaken to his situation. "Whew! if old Boreas keeps on at this rate he will blow the big hills over and the flood will wash them away. I have tarried here too long if I wish to get home before it is dark. I must go." Moving slowly back toward the trunk of the pine, seeming to have accom plished his purpose in making this labo rious trip, he slipped on the wet bark. In trying to save himself his right foot Soltaire of the Mountains 29 caught between two boughs, which alone saved him from a hundred-feet fall. Though saved from death from such a tremendous fall, he found when he tried to extricate his foot that it was held fast and firm in the vise-like grip. After many futile attempts to free himself he was fain to rest from his efforts by grasp ing one of the smaller limbs over his head. In a few minutes he renewed his struggles, but his foot only seemed the more tightly held in its fastenings. Darkness set in and the storm grew more violent, while he hung there sus pended between the frowning sky and the deluged earth. Suddenly there was a startling sound. A mighty boulder, torn from its bed on the mountain side, went hurtling into the valley a thousand feet below. The thun der of its downward career awoke the echoes of the hills far and near, sending to his heart chill foreboding of what might follow. Scarcely had the reverberations 30 Soltaire died away ere other rocks went crashing through the mountain forest, bounding from cliff to cliff in their appalling de scent, and drowned even the shrieks of the wind, the roar of the flood, and the peals of the thunder. Sharp flashes of lightning every now and then cutting in twain the black cur tain of gloom showed him in their swift- passing gleams sights which thrilled him with horror. Whole forests of trees were lifted bodily into the air and borne away as upright and majestic as on their origi nal footing for a short distance, then to be torn apart and engulfed in the terrible river of destruction sweeping down the side of the mountain. Louder and more appalling grew the wild sounds of this elemental reign of terror, until the whole mountain seemed to be starting on a furious march to the lowlands, and the imprisoned man re newed his efforts to break from his captiv ity with more frantic attempts than ever. Soltaire of the Mountains 3 1 "O God!" he cried, " the mountain is coming down upon me. I am lost ! " He had witnessed many wild scenes, but nothing like this. Huge trees were tossed into the air like feathers, and then disappeared in the boiling tide. The roar was deafening. Then the giant pine holding him sus pended high over that awful scene felt the mighty power of destruction. It shook like a reed, and then it, too, was fairly lifted upon the bosom of the avalanche. By the furious shock he was freed from the grip holding him, but he was glad now to cling to the matted branches of the tree for his life. Turning over and over as it was swept along by the swirling waters and debris, the pine was flung like a bit of brush upon the surface and carried down the mountain side with its human freight. Protected by its intermingling branches the helpless man felt that he was being 32 Soltaire borne on to a fate from which there was no escape. In the midst of this awful journey something which seemed like a human body was thrown almost into his face. Putting out one hand he caught upon the dress of a woman or child. He drew the limp figure to the branch be side him. He thought her dead, but there was a possibility that she was living, and he resolved to save her. Though still carried on at a terrific rate, the huge tree was moving more slowly than before, and he found it less difficult to maintain his precarious posi tion. Then there was a sudden jerk, as the broad network of roots caught upon some obstacle and the pine was checked in its course. Trembling like a living creature caught in the toils of some giant power, the tree swayed to and fro until its top was lifted upon the crest of the swift current and tossed aside, as if now a useless thing of the flood. The bran ches became entangled in the brushwood Soltaire of the Mountains 33 of the land, and the monarch pine rested from its wild ride, rising and falling with the heaving of the sullen river, but no longer rushing on with its angry waters. The man lost no time in trying to leave his perilous position, and carrying his seemingly lifeless companion with him he crept toward the extreme top of the tree. Reaching the ends of the branches he dropped into the water, and bravely battling with the elements, a few minutes later he stood at a distance from the surging river, though drenched by the storm and well-nigh exhausted by his arduous struggles. Thinking solely now of the helpless creature in his arms, he sought as shel tered a spot as possible, and under a clump of spruces laid her gently on the bed of boughs he had hastily spread on the soaked earth. It was too dark for him to see her features, but he soon found that her heart had not ceased beating. 34 Soltaire "She lives," he thought, "but more than that I cannot tell. She is a child of not more than nine or ten years. Probably she belonged to one of the unfortunate families in the pathway of the flood My God ! " he exclaimed, as if a new thought had come to him, " what if she is her child, Polly's child? Their home must have stood in the path of the avalanche. I cannot find them now, and I can do no better than to return to my home. The storm is abat ing ; it will soon clear away, but what desolation it will leave in its path !" He again took the unconscious girl in his arms, and carrying her with appar ent ease, advanced with rapid steps through the forest in the direction of the mountains as if he were traversing famil iar grounds. Three hours later he stopped at the foot of Black Mountain, and then be gan its rugged ascent. The storm had cleared away, and a new day greeted Soltaire of the Mountains 35 him ere he halted again. He was stand ing in a primeval wilderness whose broken landscape showed no signs of a human habitation, and merely casting a glance around as if to see that he was not observed, he pulled aside a dense curtain of running hemlock, when a dark opening appeared in the moun tain side. Bearing his burden on one arm now, leaving the other free to assist him in his entrance into the earth, he boldly stepped into the gloomy fis sure. The fringe of bushes fell back into its accustomed 'position, and no one would have dreamed of the concealed retreat. He was compelled to grope his way along in the intense darkness, but after going a short distance he stopped, and laid his charge down upon a pallet of bearskins as accurately as if the under ground apartment had been lighted. Taking a pitch knot from the rocky wall, by the aid of flint and steel he started 36 Soltaire a bright blaze, which threw an ever- changing light over the strange scene. The walls of this subterranean home were about twenty feet in length by fif teen in width, and some twenty or twenty- five feet in height, drawing in together from the four quarters as they approached the top. A little beyond the centre was a fissure overhead, which afforded ven tilation for the place and an exit to the smoke coming from the fire. Finding that the child was slowly recovering her consciousness, he quickly built a fire, and soon had herbs steaming over the coals. By the time this had befen accom plished the girl was moving uneasily on her rude couch, moaning and crying feebly. The light of the torch enabled him to see that she had received a severe blow on the head, and there were num erous marks and bruises on her limbs and body, though she had not suffered any broken bones. Soltaire of the Mountains 37 He made her drink a generous draught of the liquid he had prepared, after which she sank into a refreshing slumber, while he watched beside her. It was past midday before the youth ful sleeper awoke, and all of the time her watcher had not left her side. He was instantly bending over her, but not a word that she said was intelligible to him. Days and weeks of anxiety to the one and of suffering to the other followed before the young invalid was able to sit up and converse with her kind guardian. Then he made a strange and startling discovery. She could talk intelligently with him in regard to the present, but she had no memory of the past. That stormy night and all before it were a blank to her. " Never mind," he said in reply to her anxious questions, "those are the hap piest who have no past to haunt them. Memories are the thorns on the rose bushes of the present." 3 38 Soltaire He had told her how she had come to him while he had drifted on the bosom of the flood, of his escape, and of bring ing her to this, his primitive home. "I must have folks somewhere," she said, " and I must find them." "Not yet," he replied soothingly. "You are too weak. If you do not mind staying here alone a few hours I will see what I can learn. I will not be gone longer than I can help." She gladly agreed to this proposition, when he set out on his errand of investi gation, hopeful yet fearful. Beautiful summer weather succeeded the storm, but the sunny sky was an azure canopy over a scene, in the Saco valley, of devastation and desolation. The river rolled sullen and yellow, while the smitten mountains stood grim and scarred against the blue field of heaven. Mount Willey raised a riven front, while its mate was torn from top to base. Up and down the narrow valley ruin and dis- Soltaire of the Mountains 39 aster greeted the eye as far as it could see heaps of gravel, domes of quaking mud, scattered drift-wood, relics of giant trees shattered and blasted, lay every where, with great boulders flung from their beds high up on the heights, the road blocked and the river choked with this mingling mass of earth and vegeta tion. Amid the work of ruin one little spot had been spared one home had escaped the fury of the avalanche, though its occupants had fled in terror before the oncoming monster. On a rock a short distance above the Willey house the slide had been torn in twain, a part passing on either hand. Had the doomed family remained within the walls of their dwell ing they might have lived, but that was not to be. When the search came to be made for the missing ones, it was believed that all had perished. It was true the bodies of three of the children Jeremiah, Elbridge 4O Soltaire and Martha were not found, but it was conjectured that they had been buried under the debris, their tomb for all time. The others were found where they had been overtaken, and, as if He had set His seal upon the work, above the spot where the eldest daughter, beautiful Mary, was found, white everlasting grows. The searcher learned all this from ob servation rather than from the words of others, for he held aloof from every one, and went back to his lonely home with sealed lips. " Never mind," he repeated to her. " You and I are all there are left. You have only to begin a new life. You will need some name and I will christen you Martha. You may call me Soltaire, and this home of yours and mine is the Sol- taryage." CHAPTER III. THE GREAT CARBUNCLE. "We found good store of curious stones, that we esteemed to he diamonds." Old Manuscript. Martha, as the young girl was to be known, was fain to accept the well- meant advice of her rescuer, and during the days which followed he ministered faithfully to her comfort. Nothing pleased him more than to sit beside her, talking in a simple, straightforward man ner, yet often of things beyond her child ish comprehension. When she had become stronger Sol- taire led her to the place of exit from this strange abode, saying, as he carefully parted the shrubbery at the opening : " Be careful and step in my footsteps. Just to our right yawns the mouth of a bottomless pit, concealed by the over hanging bushes." 42 Soltaire She shuddered at his words and shrank nearer to him, but the black fissure was forgotten a moment later, as together they looked out upon the panorama of forests and mountains. At their feet lay a sort of huge basin formed in the lap of the mighty hills. A dense wood covered the depression from the bottom far up toward its green and golden rim, for the frost of autumn had now touched the hard woods with its variegated hues, lending a matchless charm to the scene. A broken circle of mountains surrounded them, their crests aflame with the golden tints of the setting sun. " How beautiful, "she exclaimed, " and yet how lonely those towering peaks look." " But it is the loneliness of God," he said, impressively. "What is there beyond the moun tains?" she asked in childish innocence. "Mountains," he replied, slowly. "And beyond them ? " The Great Carbuncle 43 "More mountains." " I mean beyond all the mountains !" she inquired, impatiently. " The sun," he answered. "Why vex your pretty little head with such useless questions? We have no need of such knowledge." "You say that this is the .world that God made?" "And so it is." " For you and me?" "Yes." "And are there no others to enjoy it?" "Is it not enough that it is for us? In all this mountain-environed world we are the only human beings to live and enjoy it. But see, the sun has disappeared be hind the rocky ramparts and it is grow ing chilly. Let us return to the fire." With a last lingering look over the scene she followed him back into the cavern home, and as he threw more wood upon the slumbering embers the flames leaped up anew, making wild, 44 Soltaire grotesque figures on the stony walls around them. Sometimes these took on the shape of huge quadrupeds, and again the giant figure of her companion was outlined on the rocks with a vividness which made her start and cover her face. The days which succeeded were very much like this. Soltaire busied himself with bringing in a huge store of dried and green wood, very much to her amazement, for though the nights were growing colder and their watch of the setting sun was made more uncomfortable from day to day, the long, cold winter of that exposed situation was something un known to her. All too soon there came an afternoon when they were compelled to forego the pleasure of their visit to the mouth of the cavern, and were glad to hover over the blazing fire. "There will be a big snowstorm to night," said Soltaire, " and to-morrow winter will set in." The Great Carbuncle 45 It is needless to describe the dreary loneliness of that long period of wintry solitude. Only at rare intervals was the strong man allowed by his young mis tress to go forth in quest of some belated deer or animal whose flesh would be come their means of sustenance. A few times she went to the rock-door of the Soltaryage, and then the scene without was so cheerless, and the mountain wind cut so keenly, that she was glad to seek the sombre warmth within. Then spring unlocked the frozen bolts of winter, and the mountains took on the beauty of a new life. She was happier now. These alternations of the seasons the coming of summer, the short pas sage of autumn, the long reign of win ter and transitions of spring were the principal events in the lives of this twain for eight mountain years. He had changed as little as the moun tains among which he lived. There may have been a few threads of silver 46 Soltaire added to the long tangled locks, and a wider train of white adown the wide field of beard, an added wrinkle or two, but the eye was as bright as ever, and the herculean figure as erect as on the stormy night when he had hung im prisoned in the arms of the pine sentinel of Mount Willard. It was different with her. The age of a girl of nine years nearly doubled makes her a maid crossing the mystic border between childhood and woman hood. She was very beautiful : her beau ty was enhanced by the picturesque- ness of her strange dress, which had long since replaced that worn by her on that memorable night of the avalanche. It was made of the skins of the silver fox and so deftly arranged as to form an attractive as well as unusual attire. If the years had dragged slowly with her they had left only their sunlight on her radiant countenance. If she had at times felt a secret, mysterious longing The Great Carbuncle 47 for something beyond her circumscribed life it had not found a realization. A worn and soiled book had made up the library of the strange anchorite with whom she had had a home so long, and from it he had taught her. As her text book was his mother's Bible he had confessed to so much its teaching may be imagined to have had a spiritual effect upon her impressive mind. He had gone beyond the word of the Good Book and told her of the world in general, but never a hint of its people. Such an apt scholar had she proved that she often read to him for hours from the sacred volume sacred to them in more senses than one. One thing in the conduct of her guar dian puzzled her. At irregular intervals he was wont to leave her for hours at a time, and once he had remained away several days. He said that he had fallen and hurt his ankle, but aside from this brief excuse he offered no explanation. 48 Soltaire This was not only a source of mystery to her but of anxiety, for she dreaded to be left there alone. At last, during one of his periodical visits, she grew so rest less and uneasy that she resolved to follow him. She had often noted the direction he had taken, and she believed that she could go a considerable dis tance and there wait until he was on his way back and thus meet him. It was a pleasant summer afternoon and the mountains had never looked more beautiful, but her view of them was soon lost as she descended into the val ley. But despite her surroundings the brave girl pressed on in the direction she believed Soltaire had followed, until she grew tired. Then, when she came to look closer at the course she was pursuing, she was dismayed to find that the tracks of the hermit were no longer to be seen. She made a hurried survey of the ground in that vicinity, but no trace of him she had been following was to be found. The Great Carbuncle 49 Still she did not believe she had wandered far from the path, and she was about to seat herself upon one of the roots of a gnarled old maple, when she was startled by hearing a loud growl near at hand, and upon looking in that direction she discovered a bear rushing toward her ! Her first thought was of flight, and with a loud, piercing scream she started around the tree. The lumbering brute was so close upon her that she did not dare to take a direct course into the forest, but as his second growl rang in her ears she darted in a circle around the maple. This tree was of a singular shape, having a sort of arm protruding from one side a few feet above the ground, which after growing in a hori zontal direction for three or four feet turned straight up into the air, form ing a second tree slightly smaller than the parent stem but with a wide-spread ing top of nearly equal height. 50 Soltaire Fear lending her strength and agility she sprang into this arm where she turned desperately, though hopelessly, at bay. The bear stopped in his pursuit, and uttering another and more triumphant snarl, reared on his hind feet and out stretched his paws to snatch her from her retreat. Believing now that she was lost, the frightened girl uttered another scream, and clung to the maple in wild affright. The bear, as if enjoying the terror of his victim, slowly raised one of his huge fore paws in readiness to deal the fatal blow. Then a clear, manly voice rang upon the still air, " Have courage, Miss, until I can get the brute within range without endan gering your life." For an instant she felt weaker than before, and she seemed to be sinking. Then she rallied, and opening her eyes, discovered the figure of a young man The bear stopped in his pursuit, and uttering another and more triumphant snarl . . . The Great Carbuncle 51 approaching from the valley below. The bear had seen him, and seemed to be hesitating whether to finish his work here or turn upon this enemy who had so sud denly and unexpectedly appeared upon the scene. From his present position the new comer could not fire without risking the life of her upon the arm of the maple. Even she realized this, and wondered h he would be successful in accomplishing her rescue without losing his own life. But he showed that he was in perfect command of himself, and not for a mo ment losing sight of the bear he shifted around to the left. The beast showed his disapproval of this act by several growls, but did not offer to move, ap parently puzzled to know what to make of the situation. "Keep calm a moment longer," said the stranger, "and I'll fix his fate for him." As he finished his speech the man took 52 Soltaire hasty aim, and as the report of his firearm rang out the bear uttered a furious roar, rising upon his hind legs as he did so. Believing him about to spring upon her the terrified girl reeled backward, and just as another cry of mingled rage and pain came from her enemy, she fell to the ground insensible. The shot was fatal to the bear, for even as he rose on his haunches to deal the blow the bullet entered his brain, and after a few struggles the great animal became rigid in death. Confident that his shot would be fatal to the bear, the new-comer did not waste any time upon the dying brute, but sprang forward to the side of the unconscious maid. First carrying her to a safe dis tance from the bear, he began to try to resuscitate her. A brook being near he ran to it for water, which he brought in his hat, sprinkling her brow and wet ting her wrists with the liquid. A few drops of blood oozed from a slight cut on The Great Carbuncle 53 the side of her head, but beyond this he did not believe she had been injured. The correctness of his reasoning was soon shown when she opened her eyes, to gaze up into his anxious countenance with a bewildered look. " The bear !" she exclaimed. "Can never harm you," he replied. " I trust you are not hurt." " I remember," she said. "You shot the bear just as I fell. No, I do not think I am hurt, only frightened. Oh, if you had not come just as you did !" "Please do not think of what might have been. You are safe from the brute, and that is sufficient for us to rejoice." He had seen that she was very beauti ful, and this alone might have been suffi cient for him to have given her more than passing attention. But he had been at tracted by her strange appearance her singular attire. At first he had naturally concluded that she was an Indian girl, who had strayed into that country, or 4 54 Soltaire who, it might be, lived somewhere in the unexplored districts of the mountains. But the fairness of her skin had quickly shown him his error in that direction. That she was of as pure white blood as himself was evident. Who then could she be, and why was she attired in that strange garb? He had asked himself these questions while trying to bring back the color to her cheeks when the warm blood should again course with its normal activity through her veins. If she was both a surprise and a mystery to him, he was doubly so to her. Having seen only the wild hermit with whom she had lived so long, she had never dreamed of strength and beauty such as were pos sessed by this unknown person. This fact caused her for the time to forget her actual situation, to forget Soltaire, while she looked with unfeigned and innocent pleasure into the stranger's countenance. She saw a manly face, upon which hon esty had set its seal, and yet as she The Great Carbuncle 55 gazed she grew conscious of a new tim idity. He noticed her confusion, and hastened to ask : " Do you live about here?" " Not far away. Where do you live?" " My home is many miles from here, but I am in the mountains for recrea tion." The word " recreation" had no mean ing to her, while she only partly com prehended the rest. "Will you tell me your name?" he asked. Then seeing her hesitation, and mistaking its meaning, he hastened to say : " Pardon me ; mine is John Wilbur. I was hunting in these regions when hear ing your cry for help, I came with what rapidity I could. If you feel able to undertake such a journey, which I judge cannot be long, I shall be happy to es cort you to your home." She had never heard the word "home" before. But she did not need the magic 56 Soltaire of the term to feel that she was drawn irresistibly toward this handsome person. For the first time, too, she realized the importance of a name. But before she could reply, the sound of approaching footsteps fell upon their ears. Intuitively both turned to look for the new-comer, their bosoms filled with wild, strange expectations, as Soltaire quickly emerged from the solitude of the surrounding for est into the small opening encircling the singular maples. It would be difficult to tell which was the more astonished, the hermit or the young man who stood silently watching his approach. The carcass of the bear was speedily discovered by the former, and that with the little beads of blood on the head of his protegee, as well as the fire arm of the stranger, partially explained the situation to him. " Have you been hurt, my child?" "No, father, thanks to this kind per son, I" The Great Carbuncle 57 " How came you here?" he demanded with sudden sternness, as he seemed to realize that there was something pecu liar in her being so far from their dwell ing-place. " I left you at the Soltary- age. " "I know you did," she faltered, not daring to confess that she had left it to follow him. " I hope you will forgive me, father, for I meant nothing wrong." " Well, it is time for us to be going," and without speaking to her rescuer he took Martha by the arm and led her away, while the young man gazed after him with unfeigned amazement. The hermit did not look back, and the other did not move from his tracks until the stalwart figure of the mountaineer had disappeared in the growth. " Well, that was cool," he declared sotto voce. "I have a mind to follow the giant. She was beautiful, but what a strange garb for a civilized being to wear ! Who can they be? I have heard 58 Soltaire there were strange beings living in the recesses of the mountains, and now I have seen the proof of it." Martha soon recovered her compos ure, but in silence Soltaire pursued his course, until he stopped at the evergreen fringe concealing the entrance to their home. " What meant your presence with that man?" he demanded sternly. She trem bled as she faltered her reply, which was a confession of her attempt to follow him. This was a painful surprise to him, and noting his look, she exclaimed : "I could not help it. I shall die if I stay here longer. Why need we be here alone? I long to see something of the world." "It has come," he said. "I might have expected it. Youth cannot always be kept in chains." ",You are not angry with me?" "No; only sorry. This unrest will be worse than death. What would you The Great Carbuncle 59 do in the crowded world? But I suppose I might have known this. Now I read the future, but it shall not be. We will leave the place and we will go together. Before we go I have a story to tell you and a secret which if you knew more of the world would awaken your heart with wild rejoicing. I am richer than Croe sus." Failing to catch even a vague idea of what he meant, she looked up at him with wonder. "Yes," he continued, "I am rich. I have found the big diamond of the crys tal hills. Men have looked for it far and near, but it was left for me to discover the hidden treasure. It is mine, all mine !" At the words he threw his arms above his head, and began a wild dance. The girl, affrighted, shrank from him with a cry which instantly recalled him to his customary manner. " Forgive me," he said. " You do not 60 Soltaire understand, and it is my fault. But it shall be to your gain as well as mine that I have made this wonderful find. Listen to my story and then we will lose no more time in leaving this lonesome place forever." Soltaire then proceeded to describe in his honest, simple way, the sincerity of which could not be doubted the old be lief in the great carbuncle which the early explorers of the mountains solemnly af firmed existed somewhere in their hidden recesses. These accounts attracted ad venturous fortune seekers into the by ways and dangerous places of the White Hills in the vain hope of finding what no one else had been fortunate enough to discover. The journal of one of these deluded carbuncle seekers, after men tioning much that he had heard, goes on to say, " Hearing that a glorious carbun cle had been found under a large, shelv ing rock, difficult to obtain, placed there by the Indians who killed one of their The Great Carbuncle 61 number, that an evil spirit might haunt the place, we went up Dry river with guides, and had with us a good man to lay the evil spirit, but returned sorely bruised, treasureless, and not even saw the -wonderful sight" "What others looked for so long in vain, and at great sacrifice," Soltaire related, " I found quite accidentally. Following one of my aimless quests, when I traversed a wider circuit of coun try than I have attempted of recent years, I was one afternoon attracted by a pecu liar halo that seemed to hang over the horizon ahead of me. It was growing quite late in the afternoon, and the west ering sun was throwing broad bars of silver and gold over the dark mantles of the forest-clad mountains. Yet, think ing this scene was but an uncommon effect of the sunlight, I kept steadily on without paying any special attention to it. " But, as I advanced, it continued to grow brighter, while the beams of the 62 Soltaire sun on the mountain sides paled upon nearer approach. I remarked this with wonder, and continued to approach, and the nearer I drew, the brighter became the illumination. " ' Surely,' I said to myself, ' this is no mere trick of sunlight. If not, what can it mean? ' "Filled with such emotions as I cannot describe, I moved toward the lightened wall formed by the highlands with their serrated peaks. The brilliant beams now shone far up on the rugged front of old earth before me, while from the great central orb, as it seemed, bright stream ers shot out in every direction, like the blazing of northern lights. " And, as I drew yet nearer, I fancied I could hear a sharp rustling like the moving of light drapery, while mingled with the sounds came a crackling which caused me to think there was a big fire behind it all. This served to make me advance with greater caution, and twice, The Great Carbuncle 63 as I stood in plain view of the intense radiance, while crossing the ridges that lay in my pathway, I felt like turning back. But no sooner had I again begun to descend into a valley, losing some thing of the intense vividness of the sight, than I was spurred to advance once more." " In spite of the peculiar danger that constantly threatened me, the greater to me for the mystery that surrounded it, I persevered, until I stood on a high ridge overlooking a narrow valley, and found that I was close upon the centre of this rare radiance rilling the air about me. In my feverish state I was too excited to see closely, but as I looked down into the depths at my feet I realized that the central orb of this wonderful light hung suspended, as it seemed to me, in mid air, like a sun lodged here in the heart of the mountains ! " Away, in the far west, the orb of day was slowly sinking behind the bul- 64 Soltaire wark of rocky heights, while below me, sending up its vivid beams, was another sun, whose splendor dazzled me. I think I must have lost consciousness for a moment. At any rate, I suddenly grew weak, and began to totter in my steps. Throwing out my hands I remember dis tinctly clutching a small tree for support. It could not have been more than a stunt ed hemlock or fir, scantily rooted on the thin layer of earth covering the rock, for it gave way under my grasp, and I found myself pitching forward down the descent. " I had a semi-consciousness of trying to cling to rocks and vines that found a precarious hold in my pathway, but none of them had sufficient strength to bear up my weight, and I went down down down ! "When I recovered consciousness it was broad daylight, but now that I looked upward I at first did not catch the sight of my stationary sun. But a second look The Great Carbuncle 65 disclosed it to my gaze, and if less bril liant than on the preceding day for a whole night had apparently passed since I had fallen into the ravine it possessed greater beauty than on the previous occa sion. I came to know that I had fallen or slipped down the rocky descent for a distance of many feet. And the central ball of light hung about midway, fastened to the granite wall by a slender stem, in a spot where no mortal foot but mine had ever been. Now that I had grown calmer by my experience, as well as sore and stiff from my adventure, I saw that it was a gem thrice as big as my head, a grand treasure of the mountains, that sparkled yet with wonderful radi ance. As I looked at it I could feel my eyes reeling in my head, until I began to grow dizzy. I was too deeply impressed with its magical light to venture to re move it. Then, what could I do with it should I take it with me ? " But my fortunes have changed with 66 Soltaire your coming. I have visited the isolated spot many times since that day, but have never molested the gem. Now, come with me and you shall see what men have thrown away their lives to look upon, but have never found. We will obtain it, and with it in our possession, will bid farewell to the Soltaryage." CHAPTER IV. BROKEN TIES. " Thus would I live my bounded age Far in the forest lone, Erased from human nature's page, Once more the Godhead's own." Without delay, Soltaire prepared to leave the Soltaryage, Martha viewing his sudden action with considerable won der. Vaguely anticipating the result she followed him out into the summer air. " We shall come back here before leaving these parts," he said. "For that reason we need not take anything we may wish to carry away with us when we depart. Step in my tracks as much as possible, and be careful you do not stumble. It is not very far to where we are bound." In silence, save for the sound of their footsteps, the couple glided through the 68 Soltaire forest, where most romantic scenery in its primitive form greeted them on every hand. Gradually they passed from the dark old forest up into a region of more dwarfed growth, where frowning cliffs constantly overhung them, and deep gorges yawned at their feet. Along un- pathed recesses, where only some wild beast had entered, they advanced, until at last they penetrated a gloomy ravine, the roar of falling water filling the ears and craggy steeps shutting out the sun light. Soltaire showed no signs of stopping, and Martha was beginning to tire of this wild quest, when a dazzling halo of light suddenly flashed across her vision. He had paused at last, and together they stood side by side, where the scattered raindrops from the waterfalls fell like a shower of spray over them, throwing upon the surrounding foliage a liquid canopy of silvery brightness. " Look ! " he exclaimed, triumphantly ; "Look!" he exclaimed, triumphantly ; "behold the mountain jewel, the priceless diamond !" Broken Ties 69 "behold the mountain jewel, the price less diamond ! " Rendered the more bright for its dark setting she saw protruding from the rocky wall of the ravine a glittering stone or gem of matchless purity. It might have been a diamond or only a rough granite boulder encased in mica so far as she could tell. It was bright, and the sight of it pleased her. But her pleasure was nothing beside that of her companion, who fairly danced with de light he did not try to conceal. "Isn't it glorious? Nothing they have ever told equals its matchless splendor, and it is mine yours and mine ! " he corrected. " See, it is held on the solid rock by a slight stem, as a toadstool is held upon the log. One blow will break it away. Let me hurl that big boulder down upon it from the cliff overhead." Upon closer inspection Soltaire found the coveted gem was simply imbedded or pinned in between two lips of the cliff. 5 70 Soltaire At first he almost despaired of getting it free. But two hours of hard work was not without its reward, and the precious nugget fell from its resting-place to roll down to the feet of Martha. Soltaire was quickly beside her, now fairly crazy with his happiness. He might have been content to remain there forever had not she finally reminded him that it was time for them to think of re turning to the Soltaryage if they wished to reach their cavern before dark. Wrap ping his skin jacket about his treasure, the hermit led the way back over the course they had taken. Following now a descending path, their progress was more rapid even if he carried what un der ordinary circumstances must have been a burden to tire a less strong man. Still the sun had sunk behind the ragged crest of the distant mountains before they reached the vicinity of their retreat. All had gone well so far, but when they were almost home Soltaire missed Broken Ties 71 his footing and fell on the rocks, the prize in his hand slipping from his hold and losing its covering rested upon the very brink of the cliff. Her companion lay so still and his face had grown so white that Martha was frightened, and she ran screaming to his side. He had been stunned by a blow on his head, beside which he had sprained an ankle. Of the last, how ever, she was ignorant, and finding that he did not rally after a few minutes she grew frantic. In vain she called upon him to speak or move. He lay like one dead. In her hysterical grief she thought only of getting him into the cave. For tunately they were still above the en trance and but a short distance away. Seizing his shoulders, she began to drag him toward the mouth of the cavern. Ex citement and grief lending her strength, she actually pulled him to the entrance, and then along the underground pas- 72 Soltaire sage, until she had reached the pallet of skins and leaves near the spot where so many years before he had laid her in sensible form. A wooden dish of water was near at hand, and in her excitement she deluged his head with the liquid. Then alarmed at what she had done she bent over him just as his lips began to move and he stirred restlessly. Soltaire soon recov ered his consciousness, but the excite ment through which he had passed, as much, if not more than the fall, made him delirious, and for days he lay there tossing feverishly to and fro, while she ministered to him. His ravings, for he talked for hours, were of the carbuncle and of some other scene of which she could catch no tangible form. Meanwhile the great carbuncle, which had been the real cause of all this anx iety, was lying where it had fallen on the rocks just outside the cavern. But by a singular combination of circum- Broken Ties 73 stances, it was to be the means of partly undoing the mischief it had caused, by guiding thither to the rescue, the young man whom Martha had met in her ad venture with the bear. She had made such an impression on this impulsive youth that her image re fused to leave his mind's eye, and he found himself almost continually thinking of her and wondering who she could be and where she could live. Urged on by a desire to find her abode, if such an ethereal being as she appeared to him had an earthly dwelling place, he wan dered far and wide through the old, gray forest, in the vain hope of finding the favored spot. In one of these searches he went far ther than he had ever been before in the direction of the mountains on the east, so that finally he was forced into the un comfortable conclusion that he was lost. This, he realized, not only threatened him with a night in the woods, but it 74 Soltaire might be a worse fate an eternal night in the wilderness. He wandered about until the sun was setting, when, hoping to get a view of the surrounding country which would enable him to see some landmark to guide him home, he climbed a tall pine. From the top of this he discovered on the side of a mountain what he at first be lieved to be a beacon fire. The sight elated him, but as he continued to watch and saw how it glistened, he was puzzled to know what it meant, and his feeling of joy turned to one of wonder. Still, fix ing the course so he would be able to reach the spot, he lost little time in start ing in that direction. It was growing dark in the under growth as he drew near the location of the Soltaryage and the resting-place of the great carbuncle. He had now quite lost sight of the sparkling object, but a sight met his gaze which sent all thought of the other from his mind. Martha had come to the mouth of the cavern, and push ing aside the fir drapery stood looking upon the wide expanse. Broken Ties 75 As she had done every day since her guardian had been so ill, Martha had come to the mouth of the cavern, and pushing aside the fir drapery stood look ing upon the wide expanse of wildwood lying at her feet. It was she that the young wanderer saw, and she discovered him at the same moment. Though their pleasure sprung from different sources, it was a happy meeting for both. He quickly related his mis fortune, and she gladly welcomed him into the Soltaryage, the first man, beside its older occupant, to enter its lonely pre cincts. The new-comer, John Wilbur, proved to be somewhat of an adept in surgery and in the art of healing, so that he was able to afford Soltaire the assistance Martha had been unable to supply. From the hour that he entered the gloomy place the strange anchorite began to mend, and Martha was happy. It is needless to say that Wilbur remained there all night, 76 Soltaire and it was past noon the next day before he thought of departing, or that he wil lingly promised to come again. Martha accompanied him to the mouth of the cavern, and though for her guar dian's sake she would fain have kept the secret of the close proximity of the great carbuncle from him, Wilbur had learned too much to be allowed to depart with out seeing it. He viewed it with wonder, and not satisfied with looking upon it as it lay there glistening in the sun he un dertook to move it slightly, when, to his surprise and the dismay of Martha, it rolled from its bed and went tumbling into the deep pit near by. A terrific noise came up from the dark orifice, growing fainter and fainter until it ended in a far-away sound, which seemed like the plaintive cry of a panther coming from the very heart of the earth. Wilbur was the first to recover enough to speak, but nothing that he could say succeeded in quieting the fears of Mar- Broken Ties 77 tha, who believed Soltaire would now go crazy over his loss. Filled with mingled feelings of regret and dread, the two returned to tell the sad news to the anchorite. At first he showed great grief, but on second thought he appeared pleased. " They cannot get it away from me," he said in an undertone. " I will find a way to get it out of the well by and by." So Soltaire, who in truth had been frightened that any one had discovered his treasure, to the surprise of his com panions was glad over the temporary, if not permanent, loss, and the three were exceedingly happy. It is needless to dwell on the days that followed, until Wilbur declared, reluctantly, that his summer vacation must end, and that he must return to the haunts of busy men. He had fallen desperately in love with Martha, and she had been both pleased and improved by his company. He had visited her 7 8 Soltaire often, and on one of his visits he had brought her clothing of a more civilized pattern to wear. Soltaire was not of fended at this, but the lovers had little reason to believe he would listen to their story of longings to leave that isolated spot. It required but little persuasion on the part of Martha to promise to go with Wilbur to his home, but she had not dared to broach the matter to Sol taire. But if the mental vision of the anchor ite was blinded to other things, he was not unconscious of love's young dream. Thus it was he and not either of them who first spoke of the thoughts in their minds. " It is human nature," he said. " I read it the day of your adventure with the bear under the maple tree, and it was that warning which prompted me to prepare for a hasty departure. I do not blame you. I have my own memories, for I was young once. Depart if you Broken Ties 79 will from the mountains, and the old man will finish his days here alone, as he expected before your coming, Martha." "You must go with us, father. You have given me a home all these years ; now let me repay the debt." He shook his head, and nothing they could say influenced him then to change his mind. The determination on his part to remain in his seclusion was the only shadow on the happiness of Mar tha, who had suddenly found opened to her a new life and dreams she had never known. At first she had felt that she could not go with her lover and leave him who had been such a kind father, but Wilbur persuaded her to consent to depart. On the morning when it had been finally decided they were to go Soltaire was astir early, and prepared the last meal he and Martha were to eat to gether. She was in tears, and scarcely 8o Soltaire touched the food. The sight of her grief made more impression on him than all that had been said, and rising abrupt ly from his seat he crossed to her side and pressing- her head to his bosom, said : " Dry those tears, my daughter. I am going with you to this new home, with the understanding that I shall come back another summer." "You shall, dearest of fathers, and I will come with you. Now I am truly happy." Wilbur came half an hour later, and he was pleased to find that Soltaire had at last been won to accompany them. He and Martha had planned to reach the nearest settlement on horseback, and he had taken the animals to the valley at the foot of the mountain, where he had been obliged to leave them. Now he was troubled because he had not taken another horse, but Soltaire as sured him that he should not have ridden if he had done so. Broken Ties 81 Not without many backward glances did the three start on their long journey, and these longing looks grew more frequent and earnest on the part of the anchorite as they advanced, Wilbur and Martha now riding, and he keeping beside them with tireless strides. Martha noticed this, but in the light ness of her own heart she did not realize the battle he was fighting with his stronger self. Finally he stopped, say ing simply : " I have forgotten to take my pipe. I think I will go back for it." "No need to do that," said Wilbur. " I will get you one better than that." " Not better for me. I have smoked it these many years, and my tobacco would not have the fragrance with another. You need not wait for me." " Oh, yes, we shall, father. You will be back in a couple of hours, I think. We will wait, won't we, John?" Wilbur understood better than she the 82 Soltaire situation, but he gladly assented, and a moment later the figure of the old man disappeared in the distance. Once he glanced back over his shoulder with a look which Martha remembered the rest of her life. They waited for him over three hours, until even Martha was forced to confess that he was not coming. " Perhaps he will come to see me after I have been away awhile," she said, hopefully, and Wilbur was fain to en courage the false hope. Soltaire never came. The following summer she and her husband visited the Soltaryage, but the place was deserted, though it showed that it had been inhabited since they had left apparently into the middle of the winter. Probably Soltaire had perished during one of his trips for fuel or game ; but be that as it may, one of them, at least, was never to learn his fate. Once he glanced back over his shoulder with a look which Martha remembered the rest of her life. CHAPTER V. SHELLING PEAS. "The witch has to her place returned ; Our witches are no longer old And wrinkled beldames, Satan-sold, But young and gay and laughing creatures, With the heart's sunshine on their features." "Toss your head, if you want to, Sue Blaisdell, and pretend that you think my conduct is terrible. I know you are just dying to be in my shoes. The only difference between us is that we are both bound to catch Arthur Gar land, but you won't own it and I will." " There is another similarity, Bess," spoke up a third of the party of light- hearted girls doing miscellaneous work at one of the big summer houses of Jack son. A merry picture they presented, too, in their light frocks and blithesome manners. Pretty and piquant, every one 84 Soltaire of them, but of many styles of maidenly coquettishness. "What's that, Mary Grace?" de manded the two who had been arguing all the morning over the good qualities of a certain young man who was among the tourists stopping at this famous house. "Neither of you will catch this very desirable match." " As soon as you, with your winning smiles and foolish tongue, Mary Grace. Oh, but didn't you look and act foolish when you were smirking over that young fop from " " Hold right on there, Bess Leighton. We are not discussing Tom Freeland at all. That was merely a passing fancy, and it served to enliven the time. Com ing back to this young millionaire, good looking, with the air of a knight of old and the culture of a modern scholar, he is enough to turn the heads of all the girls, I will allow. I am free to confess that I am in the race." Shelling Peas 85 "If you had seen what I saw yester- terday," said another, who had thus far remained silent, " you would have thought you stood a poor show. Have any of you seen how attentive he is to that Irene Grover from Chicago? They say her father is even richer than the Garlands of " " All trumped up. I have it from one who ought to know, and she says her father is on the verge of failure." "Talk about Arthur Garland being attentive to Irene Grover. It is she who is attentive to him. Why, she won't let him get out of her sight, and I overheard her only yesterday morning scolding him about the way he helped those vulgar servants shell peas." " What did he say ? " asked all in cho rus. " Servants , indeed ! " " Oh, he championed our cause right nobly, and said we were not common servants. Because a girl is ambitious enough to wish to pay her way during 86 Soltaire her vacation was not to her discredit. For his part he said he had a better opinion of them for such a laudable purpose." " Hear that, girls," cried the irrepres sible Mary Grace. "There is a cham pion equal to the noble heroes you read of in chivalrous stories. For my part, I like him better than ever, and I propose three cheers for Arthur Garland, the young " " Do hold your tongue, Mary Grace ! What if he should hear? Why can't you be more quiet and self-possessed like like Louise, here. You never hear any such wild outbursts from her. She hasn't even spoken since this hulla baloo has begun," declared Bess, waving her plump white hand in the direction of a girl seated at one side of this noisy, chatty throng, who was certainly worthy of more than a passing notice. Of a slender, graceful figure, above the medium in height, without looking Shelling Peas 87 over tall in her free, easy carriage, Louise Freenoble belonged to that rare type of womanly beauty which poets and artists delight to rave over, and yet never half portray, while they linger over some especial feature that charms them. The blue eyes, mirroring in their liquid depths the purity of the soul within ; the waving, silken hair, of a gold and bronze deepening into brown ; a mouth firm, yet displaying a pair of red lips showing a trace of tenderness, and between them a gleam of pearly teeth, all these were possessed by Lou ise, with a clear, soft-tinted skin. She had, too, a retiring nature, which never seemed ruffled at the petty vexations that so often troubled her companions. This was her third summer at this house, and it is needless to say that she won the friendship of those who had been fortu nate to make her acquaintance. "Compare me to Louise the idea! I could no more be quiet like her than 88 Soltaire Wildcat river can stop its headlong course. I should n't want to, if I could. Then, too, it is more than likely that she has a lover at home. Who knows? She has been here three seasons, and who of us are wise enough to tell whence she comes or whither she goes, with her well- filled purse, at the end of the season?" "All but the well-filled purse. But your mountain torrents that you boast so much of are shallow, and the poet tells us that still waters run deep." "We don't happen to be living in a poetical age, Miss Maude, and I am glad of it. This is an electrical age, and I am glad I have got a little of the divine spark about me. If I do create a little friction I like to see the sparks fly." " Oh, well, a thunder-storm is pleasant to contemplate at a distance, but when it comes too near, then beware. But returning to this mountain hero and our quiet Evangeline, I noticed yesterday that if she did say less than the rest of Shelling Peas 89 us, she got more peas shelled than any of us." " That does n't signify. For my part I would not have it thought that I sought merely for such honors. I got twice the attention from him that she did." "That may be, but he was shelling her peas, not yours. Now " " Hush, girls," broke in Louise, now speaking for the first time, " here comes Mr. Garland, and we ought to have had those peas shelled before this." " 'Speak of angels, and you hear the flutter of their wings,' " exclaimed Bess. " Let 's hie to the porch and put on our most becoming manner. We must not let him know that he is our conquering hero." "Away with such nonsense. Man likes to be flattered just as well as we of the gentler, sex. Scat to your corners like a litter of frightened kittens. I am going to meet the ' conquering hero.'" While the others hastened to their 90 Soltaire task of the morning, too long neglected through this gossip, the reckless Mary ran to greet the new-comer who had pro voked the discussion of the girls. He was good looking, well dressed, and above all with the air and culture of a gentleman. He smiled, as the impetuous Mary Grace approached, crying out : ** I have a conundrum for you, Mr. Garland, and it is original with me."' **No more original than yourself, Miss Grace. Please state your conundrum, though I must confess that I am a poor guesser at such catch-games." ** I know you can't guess this. Why are the peas we have got here to shell like the seven falls on Wildcat river yonder? Now put on your thinking cap, sirrah, and give me an answer if it be ever so foolish." " Reallv, I do not know, Miss Grace, unless let me see ahem, unless it is because there are generally seven peas in a pod, and " Shelling 1 Peas 91 "Just like a man !" broke in the dis appointed maid, showing slight vexation, "you have given the most bungling answer you could have imagined. Noth ing spoils a good conundrum so much as to have " "It unraveled by the poor victim," said Garland, with a smile. " Now that you have been answered I have a favor to ask." "Granted, before it is named," she hastened to say, nodding gaily toward her companions, who were listening to this lively conversation with an interest which kept them from their task. "Just like you, but I am afraid your generosity will get you into trouble. I merely wanted the privilege of changing your name to what seemed to me " He stopped suddenly here in the midst of his speech, his countenance looking very red, while he appeared confused and alarmed at what he had said, and she, with mock gravity, declared : 92 Soltaire "Really, Mr. Garland, you do me a great honor, and though this is so sudden and public I I have no objection." By this time the whole party was con vulsed with laughter, the young man getting redder and redder in the face, while the coquettish girl actually, for once, lost her complacency and looked off toward the mountains encircling this romantic retreat in the heart of the White Hills. " Really, Miss Grace," stammered Garland, as soon as he could recover enough to speak, "what I meant was that I would like to change the spelling of your plain but pretty given name, Mary, so it should be M-e-r-r-y Merry Grace. That would be so appropriate. I will leave it to the crowd if I am not right." " Oh, you horrid man, I will never never speak to you again. Here comes Mr. Sumner, and I am so glad there is a gentleman with us." Shelling Peas 93 It was perhaps fortunate that a new comer appeared on the scene to change the somewhat awkward turn affairs had taken. Sumner was a voluble young man, with an immaculate shirt-front, a beaming countenance, and flighty ideas, who never seemed to lack something to say even if his talk contained but little wisdom. " Say," he cried, before he had got near enough to be heard in an ordinary tone of voice, " have you heard the latest news?'' "News! no, what is it? Is it some new arrival?" " I do n't know how new an arrival she is, but a strange woman has been seen in the vicinity of Black Mountain." "A strange woman on Black Moun tain ! What is she like? Is she old or young? Does she live there alone?" " Have mercy on a fellow, I pray. Now really, ladies, I cannot begin to answer the questions already thrown at 94 Soltaire me so wildly. But I will say that she is said to be old very old that she resem bles the description we have been given of the witch of Endor, and that appar ently she lives alone in some of the caves or recesses of the mountain. This is the more evident because she will not let any one get near enough to speak to her. It is claimed by those who have seen her that it is remarkable, considering her age, how rapidly she will disappear among the rocks and under-growth." " Who can she be? Surely some one must know who she is. Of course she is crazy." " I can't say about that. Perhaps she is an old settler here in the mountains. I have heard of such things. I had an uncle who said that he knew a man who had seen an old hag riding off on one of the mountain crags, and as she did so a great halo encircled her head until she disappeared in the distance ; but of course that was a good while ago." Shelling Peas 95 "I should correct you by saying a bad while ago, Mr. Sumner. But the trouble with you is that you have been reading late at night the gruesome Hawthorne's story of the ' great carbuncle.' I should advise you to take a short vacation from such literature, and read in the meantime Starr King," said the irrepressible Mary Grace, who had quite done pouting. "Wouldn't it be nice if some of us could find one of those wonderful gems the old writers so delighted to describe," exclaimed Bess. " Perfectly delightful if that some one should happen to be me !" declared Sue. " You wouldn't catch me shelling these horrid old peas another minute." "Judging by what you have done it would n't be any great loss to the rest," said Maiy, adding in a lower tone : "I should rather find a rich husband than all the carbuncles the old fortune-mad hunters never found." Talking and laughing alternately of 96 Soltaire the strange woman claimed to have been seen in the region of Black Mountain, and of the wonder-tales of supposed gems of marvelous value hidden somewhere in the crystal hills, the light-hearted group had quite forgotten two of their number, Louise and Garland, who were industri ously working and conversing in a low tone at the same time. "There is to be a pleasure party to morrow that will go up to the Black Mountains," he was saying. " I under stand it has been planned by our gener ous landlord for the benefit of his help as w r ell as his guests. You will go?" "I am afraid not, I thank you." ' ' I am very sorry, for I had hoped you would find it convenient to do so." Then seeing her look of surprise, he added : " You are so different from the rest." She felt that she was on dangerous ground, and to shift the theme of conver sation she inquired : "What have you heard about this Shelling Peas 97 strange woman on Black Mountain, Mr. Garland?" "Very little. She is some poor, delud ed being who has evidently strayed away from home and relatives. But I have been told that many hermits and peculiar people still live in the mountains, avoid ing society. It is with the hope that we shall see this strange woman that this trip to Black Mountain is planned." " Hear that, girls? " asked Mary, who had caught the last sentence. "There's going to be a trip to Black Mountain to find the old witch, and our boss says we can go, and I am going." "Isn't it on Black Mountain that it is told a singular hermit called Soltaire used to live?" asked Sue. "The wild man who kept that poor girl there a prisoner so many years? Perhaps this wild woman is that girl grown into an old woman ! Oh, you need n't laugh, there has been plenty of time." 98 Soltaire "Peas to shell!" cried one of the merry throng, springing to her feet. "Come, where are the rest of you? Louise has had hers shelled these ten minutes." "Well she might!" exclaimed Sue under her breath, but wisely held her tongue while the party dispersed to their several tasks and to prepare for the afternoon's outing, which was to end in a most surprising manner. . CHAPTER VI. ROMANCE AND REALITY. " By maple orchards, belts of pine And larches climbing darkly The mountain slopes, and, over all, The great peaks rising starkly. Rivers of gold-mist flowing down From far celestial fountains, The great sun flaming through the rifts Beyond the wall of mountains." Immediately upon hearing the stories, soon highly exaggerated, of the strange female hermit claimed to have been seen in the vicinity of Black Mountain, a dozen persons were eager to pay a visit to that region in the hope of encountering the unknown woman. So promptly at three o'clock one of the big coaches was made ready for the trip, the horses were har nessed, and the vehicle was driven up in front of the hotel. ioo Soltaire Of course Arthur Garland was among the foremost, while the gossipers had plenty to occupy their time for the bal ance of the day when they saw him help Louise into the carriage and take a seat beside her. Mr. Sumner was with the party, as ready as ever to do all the talk ing, but finding more than his match in the saucy, sarcastic, humorous Mary Grace, who could quickly silence him whenever she chose to exercise the pre rogative of a woman the free use of her tongue. Bess and Sue were both pres ent, with others whose names need not be presented. At one of the second story windows might have been seen a fair face dark ened with a storm of rage, and as they rode away a white fist was shaken after them, expressive of the war in the heart of Irene Grover. "The fools!" exclaimed the disap pointed heiress, while she watched the party ride away ; " his father shall know Romance and Reality 101 of this, and I will see that she is disgraced in the eyes of all. I '11 find the means to do this before they return." Unconscious, in a great measure, of the anger he had called upon his head through having taken Louise upon this trip, Garland was extremely light-hearted, and his cheerful spirit imbued the entire party, which chatted in a manner that showed the most of its members to be lost to their wild surroundings. The road followed the valley of Wild cat river until reaching the junction of a tributary known as Great brook, when the way wound along the bank of this noisy rivulet, each moment taking them deeper and deeper into the heart of that mountainous region. Soon old Double Head frowned down upon them on their right hand, while on the other the Black Mountain range hemmed them in. " The old woman has been seen at an old sugar camp near the big double ma ple, hasn't she? "asked one of the party. 1 IO2 Soltaire " How is that, Garland?" "It will do no harm for us to stop there, though I think we shall find her farther back in the mountains." "If we find her at all." "Well, we are at the last occupied house," said the driver. "I know the people intimately here, and it will be a good place to leave the horses. Though this is the end of the road, I can take you all up to the sugar camp, and while you are looking around a bit will come back with the horses." This meeting with unanimous approval, Harry Russell gave his whole attention to guiding the horses along the now broken way, until at last he announced the sugar camp, and the " old sweet maple a bit away from it." In a moment the passengers made a rush to leave the coach, a portion of them scampering off into the woods helter- skelter, while others hastened to the sugar camp in plain sight, laughing and shout- The couple soon came in sight of the peculiar maple. Romance and Reality 103 ing in a manner which would have given any person ample warning to seek the concealment of the forest if he did not care to be discovered. " Much they'll find of the old woman in that headlong rush," muttered the driver, as he turned the horses about to drive back to the farmhouse; "but it's none of my porridge." Garland now seemed to have lost in terest in the search, or else he had, as he had said, little faith in it, and he escort ed Louise in a direction away from the crowd. Thus the couple soon came in sight of the peculiar maple, where it will be remembered Martha Soltaire had had her adventure with the bear and been saved by John Wilbur. The tree had changed little since that day long since past. " An old settler," declared he, assist ing her to a seat between the two trunks, " and it seems especially designed as a lovers' trysting place," taking a seat IO4 Soltaire beside her. " I wonder if this is why it is known as the ' sweet maple.' The driver says it is known by that name," added Garland. " Do you think they will find the un known woman?" asked Louise, as if to change the topic of conversation. "Not in the way they have begun. But let them riot through the woods like so many wild creatures. I prefer a moment's quiet and your company. The strange woman has her haunts farther up in the mountains beyond these. But let us forget her for a brief while. The crowd has kindly allowed me a privilege I cannot fail to improve." Perhaps she had a vague realization of his meaning, but she made no reply, her gaze wandering toward the mountains trending northward. "Miss Freenoble Louise I know that our acquaintance has not been ex tended, but in the time that I have known you I have discovered in you traits of Romance and Reality 105 character others do not possess. Pardon me for speaking in this abrupt manner at this time, but it seemed to me the most fitting as it is the first opportunity." " I am surprised, Mr. Garland, at what you have said, and I wish you would ac company me back to the coach at once." "Nay, Miss Freenoble, do not be offended at what I was to say. I am an honorable man and I have only the best of motives in what I was about to say." " Why say that which can only cause both of us pain, Mr. Garland? I believe you are an honest man, which thought is worth a great deal to me, who am so far below you in " 4 ' Forgive me if I interrupt that thought. It is unworthy of us both. You are not below me in any respect, but my equal if not superior in intellectual gifts." " No no ! you do not understand me. You are rich and move in a circle far above me, a poor, unknown girl, glad of an opportunity to earn an honest living." io6 Soltaire " For which I admire you the more. It is not to my especial credit that my family is what is called rich. True riches are not to be estimated according to the size of a bank account is my belief. I am glad to offer you, the one woman I love, a pleasant home, but such fortune as I may possess does not in any manner measure the depth of my love. Do you doubt my sincerity, Miss Freenoble?" "No, Mr. Garland, but I am sorry you have said this." She had left his side and now stood trembling and confused before him. " Why sorry, Louise? I mean it. You do not dislike me?" * ' No no ! But you know so little of me. Before another hour you may learn that which will cause you to despise me." " Never, Louise ! You cannot believe in my sincerity, or you would not say that. You will answer my question do you love me?" She started, as if frightened by the Romance and Reality 107 words, and turned away in confusion, while a telltale crimson came into her cheeks. " Wait, please, "she said. " Something tells me you will not wish to repeat Hark! Mr. Russell has returned, and he is calling for us to start ahead. The rest will talk if we linger here." The others were already gathering about the impatient driver, who realized better than the excited tourists the need of improving every moment of time if they wished to get back before night. "This will be the jolliest part of our journey," cried Sumner. "How many of you dare to follow me ?" "To decline such an invitation," said Mary Grace, a bit sarcastically, " would not be so much a display of cowardice as of good judgment. ' Madmen rush in where angels dare not tread.' ' "And you would be enough to drive any fellow mad, if his head were not well balanced," he replied. io8 Soltaire Several of the young men, among them Garland, had brought their firearms with them in the hope they might see some thing worth a shot, and taking these they prepared for the advance into the moun tainous region. The most venturesome of the girls resolved to accompany them as far as possible. Harry Russell, the driver, willingly consented to act as guide, and under his lead the party plunged into the depths of the forest, the merry shouts and laugh ter of the more careless and boisterous ringing out far and wide on the still air. " You would frighten all of the Salem witches out of the mountains if they had taken refuge here, "muttered Harry Rus sell, who was not well pleased with such noisy demonstrations. Gradually these outbursts grew less frequent, as the party progressed, until only an occasional word was spoken. The way had now become a mere foot path. Thus the surprise of the tourists Romance and Reality 109 was the greater for discovering in this isolated place the crumbling walls of an old hut. " I can remember since this old house was occupied," declared the guide. "This path was then a roadway, so that teams could be driven clear up here. Hello ! if the old house is n't occupied now, may I be roasted for " "This may be the stopping place of the old witch," broke in Sumner. " As I live, here is a woman's shoe," picking up as he spoke the object, which was worn out beyond any hope of repair. This find was enough to create great interest in the place, and it was not long before the entire party was satisfied that the ruined hut had been very recently occupied, no doubt by the strange woman they had hoped to find. This fact, as well perhaps as a desire to escape the fatigue of further travel through the wilderness, caused the majority of the party to decide to remain no Soltaire at the place, while the rest penetrated still farther into the broken regions be yond them. Knowing that they might wait there for days without seeing the unknown woman, Garland was as anxious as ever to press on, while Louise and Mary, with two other girls, concluded to keep with the explorers a while longer. Sum- ner was also with them. The valley continued to contract until it was little more than a rocky gorge, with granite walls hundreds of feet in height on either side, and continually growing higher. "By climbing the spur of the moun tain on our left," said the guide, " we can get a wide view of the region be yond us, where a hermit would be most likely to take up his abode." It being deemed best for the ladies to remain in the valley, Sumner volun teered to stay with them, while the others ascended the peak pointed out by the guide. Romance and Reality 1 1 1 Garland was among the foremost of this little party to reach the lookout, and as he and Russell stood there, side by side, he found that the view fully repaid him for all his trouble in gaining such a vantage ground. " This is truly the throne of the moun tain king," he said. " I can see nothing but mountains after mountains." " More than have been named," de clared the guide. " But you have on our left a farther look into the Black Moun tain gorge than was possible from the foot where we left the others." "What a lonely existence it must be for any one to live here," affirmed anoth er of the party. "True, and yet a strange man known as Soltaire, it is claimed, lived in the heart of the mountains beyond where we can see, for nearly twenty years. The strangest part of the story is that for several years he had living with him a beautiful girl. Who she was has never 1 1 2 Soltaire been satisfactorily told, but she finally went away and was married to a man who rescued her from her lonely life." " What became of the old man?" " Nobody ever knew. The girl came back to try and persuade him to go and live with her, but she could not find him." " Say, Garland ! " exclaimed a fourth speaker, who had been closely survey ing the distant scene through a glass, " yonder on that dead tree is a fine shot for you. It is an eagle of great size. Do you think you could bring down the bird at that distance ? " " Watch me and see," replied Gar land, who was a crack shot, and taking rapid aim at the eagle he fired. No sooner had the report of his rifle died away before the other exclaimed : "You have hit it ha! what is that? Merciful heaven, Garland, you have shot a woman ! " CHAPTER VII. THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS. ' 'T is I that mingle in one sweet measure, The past, the present, the future of pleasure ; When Memory links the tone that is gone With the blissful tone that's in the ear, And Hope from a heavenly note flies on To a note more heavenly still that is near." Others beside the speaker had seen the figure of a woman suddenly come into sight at the foot of the blasted tree and fall upon the rocks, where she remained motionless. In a moment the handful of spectators were in a fever of excitement. "At any rate you cannot be blamed, Garland, and we will stand by you what ever follows," declared Harry Russell. " Let us go there as quickly as we can. She may not be dead." "It will be a smart step to the place. Fix the location well in your mind, boys." 1 1 4 Soltaire Garland was already descending the cliff with rapid strides, regardless of the danger he was constantly incurring by his headlong steps, while he was think ing only of the most unexpected result of his long shot. As it was not necessary for the party to return to the old cabin where they had left their friends, they headed di rectly toward the base of the mountain on the side of which they had seen the form of a woman fall as if killed, the little group they had left in the valley joining them. Swiftly they tore through the underbrush regardless of the result to clothes or person, Garland keeping in the lead, with Harry Russell close be hind him. So well did the alarmed men follow the proper course that it was less than fifteen minutes when the foremost pair reached the spot. " There she lies ! " exclaimed Garland, " where she fell on the rocks. She does The Unexpected Happens 115 not seem to be alive, but let us hope she is not dead." Both saw at a glance that she was an aged woman, with dress sadly torn and her long hair disheveled, as it fell in snow-white masses about her shoulders. But they thought more of her physical condition than of anything else, and to gether they sought to learn if she was yet living. A wide gash in her head showed where she had struck the rock, but there was no sign of a bullet wound. "I do not think your shot hit her at all," said Russell. " Neither is she dead." " I am glad to hear all that," declared Garland. "Perhaps if we can get her to the farmhouse below here she will re vive. Here are the others ; with them we must bear her to a more comfortable place as soon as possible." The others willingly agreed to lend such assistance as they could, and hastily arranging a rude litter of broken bran ches from the forest they placed the un- 1 1 6 Soltaire conscious form upon it, to begin their tedious descent to the deserted cabin. While others were preparing the litter, Sumner and one other made an examin ation of the place where the strange wo man had been found, in the hope of find ing some explanation of the cause of her mishap. The eagle that Garland had shot was found in the thicket just above the spot where she had fallen. Though the bird was lifeless now, there was evidence of its having made a desperate struggle before it had died. 'Ah, look here !" exclaimed Sumner ; "here are the tracks where she w r as standing before she took that tumble. 1 11 venture the eagle had something to do with it." " So will I," responded his friend. '' No doubt the bird, the moment it was hit, made a dive in this direction, strik ing the woman in its blind agony. This toppled her over, while the creature continued its struggles. Probably the The Unexpected Happens 117 woman had not seen it in time to get out of the way." This plausible theory was accepted by the others as the most probable explana tion of the affair. The journey to the old house, if a slow and laborious trip, was performed in safety. Those who w r ere awaiting their coming were looking anxiously for their arrival. Having heard the gun shot, they were prepared to expect that some exciting incident had occurred, and at sight of the lifeless figure borne in their midst this alarm increased to an exciting pitch. " Somebody has been killed!" ex claimed one of the most nervous. ** Was it an accident or done on pur pose ? " asked another. It will go hard with the murderer," declared a third. " Has murder been done? Oh, dear ! this is horrible !"' But the voluble Sumner was able to ; 1 1 8 Soltaire change the drift of these exclamations at once, though he was not likely to silence the demonstrations of wonder. " We have found that strange woman, the witch of Black Mountain ! It is the funniest thing that ever happened." While Sumner was describing to his friends the scene on the mountains the others bore the form of the aged woman into the house, where she was tenderly placed upon a couch. About this time she began to move and to show signs of returning consciousness. Her lips,moved, but the expressions that she uttered were incoherent and wandering, showing that she was delirious. Among those who came forward to lend such assistance as they could was Louise Freenoble, who at sight of the pallid, haggard features, stopped in her course. Then, bending a searching look upon the sufferer, she murmured : "Am I dreaming? This is my grand mother, who disappeared so mysterious- The Unexpected Happens 119 ly early in the summer. Grandmother, speak and say that you recognize me Louise." The spectators showed their surprise, and more than one shook his head, with a look that seemed to say : " So the proud Louise is a relative of this strange vagabond ! I always knew you might expect something of this kind of her." Garland, with a finer appreciation of the situation, immediately felt the injus tice of these frowns and ill-concealed looks of displeasure. "It is necessary that the sick woman should be given entire quiet, and the rest of us would better retire at once, save Miss Freenoble." But curiosity proved stronger than human sympathy for one in distress, and only a few withdrew ; and even these looked back with evident dislike at being deprived of witnessing what might fol low. 1 20 Soltaire "Speak, grandmother!" implored Louise, regardless of those around her. " How came you here? You must live !" As if the tragic words had the power to restore her to the life that had seemed spent, the aged woman began to move uneasily, and her lips parted as if she was about to speak. But all that the quick ear of Louise caught was the single word " mother I" " She will recover," said Garland. " Be calm, Miss Freenoble, your grand mother will soon be able to explain all. Let me bathe her temples in some water. We must get her down to the hut as soon as possible." "How dark it is!" moaned the poor woman, speaking louder and clearer. " I cannot see you, mother. And where is Mary?" putting out her thin, wasted hands as if groping her way through the darkness of night. "I am here, grandmother your Louise. Let me take your hand. ' The Unexpected Happens 121 "I am so frightened, Mary! Was it like this in June?" " Her mind wanders," said Garland. "You had better humor her, Miss Free- noble. She thinks you are some one else. While you console her, we will send down to the farmhouse where we left the horses for better means of con veying her there." " Hark, Mary ! I hear mother calling. She says we must get up. Oh, what can have happened?" "Do not be alarmed, grandmother." " Where are Jere and El?" " Safe with us," whispered Louise, in an awed tone, hoping to console her. " I do not understand all this," she added, turning to the others. " Neither do I, Mary, but it is a terri ble night. Hark ! what is that noise? It cannot be the river. No no ! it is the mountain the mountain coming down upon us. Quick ! mother says we must flee !" 122 Soltaire The speaker caught at Louise with frantic clutches, dropping from her left hand the package which she had held from the time she had been found on the mountain side. Garland had tried to re move it, but finding she had such a rigid hold upon it he relinquished the attempt. Now he picked up the package, which was carefully covered in birch bark, and kept it until it might be wanted by its owner. Of all comprising that little group of spectators no one was more intently lis tening to what was being said by this strange woman than Harry Russell, who knew better the history of the mountains than his companions. "It doesn't seem possible," he whis pered to Garland, "but I believe she is talking of that fearful tragedy which happened in the Crawford Notch nearly seventy-five years ago when a whole family was killed." "You mean the Willey slide," said The Unexpected Happens 123 Garland. " I am very familiar with that tragical affair, as I have reason to believe that an ancestor of mine perished that awful but she is speaking again. She may explain herself." " Mother says it will kill the children ! I wonder what she means, Mary? But here she is. Mother, must we flee on such a night as this ? Listen ! how the storm rages. Father has opened the Bible. He reads it, as he always does in trying hours. I can hardly keep still, and yet I am too terrified to move !" The speaker trembled and was so af fected that Louise grew alarmed, trying to soothe her as best she could, while Garland spoke reassuringly. " She is undergoing some trying ordeal in her mind," he said. " I think it will pass in a moment. Be hopeful, Miss Freenoble." "Yes, Mary," resumed the woman, speaking more calmly now; "I have your hand. Dave has taken care of the 1 24 Soltaire boys. Mother has the baby, and father is helping them. How dark it is, and how the river roars !" After this the speaker's words were unintelligible for several minutes, while she seemed to be meeting some great danger. Then she again grew calmer, and continued : "Yes, Soltaire, I remember it all so plain. My mind is very clear now. It was an awful night. You saved me, but where are the others ? All lost lost !" Again she relapsed into silence, and when next she spoke it was in a different strain. Her countenance had lightened, and as if she was conscious of a great joy, she said softly : " Yes, John Wilbur, I was happy when I became your wife, and our wedded days were days of peace and content ment, though the old experiences would at times cast their shadows over my thoughts. I could not forget him who had been so kind to me all through those The Unexpected Happens 125 long, weary years in the mountain. Poor man ! his was indeed a lonely life, and how often I used to wonder what had driven him to his loneliness. I am sure there was some secret sorrow, which he was too sensitive to give to the world. I feel that it is not those who show their grief that suffer most, but rather those who bear their pain in silence. He was kind to me, but I cannot help seeing that it was a providential act that sent you as my rescuer, John. For that alone I could love you, but you have been a faithful husband to me. I " Here she faltered, and her words died away in whispers that the eager, anxious listeners could not catch. "She must be Martha Willey, and there was one who lived through that awful night," said Harry Russell, when the aged sufferer became silent. "It seems so strange, that after all these years we should learn this wonderful truth. But I am standing here when I 126 Soltaire ought to be giving my attention to re moving her to a better place. We must not stay longer, for it will soon be dark. If the rest of you will come along with her, I will go down to the farmhouse for a team to meet you at the old sugar camp." This suggestion was acted upon at once, and the party was coming in sight of the sugar orchard an hour later, when Sumner, who could keep silent no longer, exclaimed : "There comes Russell! I can hear the wagon rattling over the stones. I hope he has brought up a lot of mattresses and bedding to carry the woman on." Mrs. Wilbur was calmer now, but her mind continued to dwell on the scenes of that stormy night. Harry Russell soon reached the place, when it was found that he had been even more thoughtful than Sumner had wished. " I have everything to make her com fortable," he said. " They were very The Unexpected Happens 127 anxious at the farm, and to have him there as soon as possible a boy has been sent post-haste after a physician. He will be there by the time we are. Lift her into the wagon carefully, boys." Now that he was not needed in assist ing the others, Garland gave his atten tion to Louise, saying : " Here is a package, Miss Freenoble, that belongs to the your grandmother. Perhaps you had better take it." "Keep it for her, please. How strange it seems that she should be found up here. Pardon me, Mr. Garland, but it must seem singular to you. I will explain if you wish." "If you think it best, but please do not feel in duty bound to do so. It is a matter of your own interest." "I had rather tell. You see I have lived with grandmother ever since father died, five years ago. Mother has been dead over ten years. So has grand father Wilbur, who met grandmother 128 Soltaire here in the mountains when she was younger than I am. "There was always one singular thing connected with grandmother. She did not know who she was, and she had lost all memory of her life before a certain stormy night when she was saved from drowning by a peculiar man who lived a hermit here in the White Mountains. Some months ago she disappeared, and though we searched far and near we could find no trace of her. I at first thought I would give up coming to the mountains this year, but I was expect ed, and I needed the money, for father had met with misfortune and I was obliged to earn my own living. How strange grandmother should have come here, so near to me, and yet I did not know it." " No doubt she was drawn here by old recollections, for I think it must have been near this vicinity where she lived when she was a girl." The Unexpected Happens 129 "On one of the mountains beyond Black range," she said. "I have always intended to try to find the place, but have been obliged to put it off from time to time. Here we are at the farmhouse, where grandmother will have to remain if the people can care for her. Of course I shall remain with her until she is able to be removed." The others agreed in saying that it, would be better for Mrs. Wilbur to stay here, and the kind-hearted hostess de clared that she should not allow them to take her down to the summer hotel. So it was quickly arranged, when the semi- unconscious woman was taken gently into the house and made as comfortable as possible. This had been barely ac complished before the doctor arrived. He soon declared that it might be some time before she would be able to be re moved, and that there were grave doubts if she would ever be able to go away. " So you see I shall have to stay," 130 Soltaire said Louise to Garland. " I wish you would tell them at the hotel how it is, and that I am very sorry if I shall cause them any disappointment." " There is no reason why you should be blamed," he said. " I will explain the matter as fully as is needed. I do not know that the whole story need be told." " You are very thoughtful," she re plied. " If grandmother is no worse I shall try to come down in the morning. It will be necessary, as I have things I need to bring here." " Do not be afraid to call upon me for everything I can do," he offered. "I hope I may come, at least once a day, to see how you are getting along." " I am afraid you are going to rob yourself of all the pleasure of your vaca tion." " My greatest pleasure is in doing what I can to lighten your burden," he replied. So Louise remained with her aged rel- The Unexpected Happens 131 ative at the mountain farm. There was no material change in the condition of Mrs. Wilbur during the night. She talked much, in her incoherent way, of the scenes of her earlier life, dwelling more particularly on the scenes of that terrible night of storm. In fact, she did not seem to rally much inside of several weeks, which was an anxious period to Louise. Garland proved as good as his word, and there was no day that he failed to come to the farmhouse. An early frost had tinted the foliage of the mountain side with the magical brush of autumn, and the summer guests had fled from the haunts of summer-land as birds seek a warmer clime when the first indication of the cooler season appears. Garland proved an exception, for he still remained, very much to the pleasure of Louise, who had found herself looking forward with apprehension to the time when he, too, would follow the crowd. 132 Soltaire It was a charming September day, and Louise and Garland had been en joying the beautiful mountain scenery, which never looked finer than at that season, when the kind housewife, who had been left with her grandmother, came hastily to her side, saying : " I wish you would come at once. I do believe your grandmother is better that her fever has turned. She seems real natural, as I should suppose she would." With a heart beating high with ex pectation, Louise hastened to the side of her relative. No sooner had she caught sight of her countenance than she saw that a remarkable change for the better had taken place. Something of her old-time spirit had returned. "I thought that my granddaughter, Louise, was beside me," she was saying to the woman bending over her. "It seemed to me as if she had been with me a long time, though I could not imagine how she or I came here." The Unexpected Happens 133 "Never mind that, grandmother I" exclaimed Louise, advancing quickly to her side. "I am here, and I have been all through your illness." " Louise darling !" folding her in her weak arms, while tears ran down her furrowed cheeks. " Do not excite yourself, dear grand mother. All is well." " And have I been sick long? How came I here? And, pray, how came you here? I cannot understand it." " Do not try to now, grandmother. A little later I will explain all. You have been ill, but you are better now, and when you get a little stronger I will tell you all about it. You need to rest and sleep now. I am so glad you know me at last." A little later the aged woman sank into a refreshing slumber, but even when she awoke Louise did not feel justified in de tailing the particulars of her long illness, or the cause that had led up to it. But a 9 134 Soltaire few days later she felt the time had come when she must produce the package which she had kept with jealous care. Her grandmother had inquired for it, and at sight of it she seemed to regain much of her lost strength. "I was afraid I had lost it," she said. " I do not know what it contains, but I am sure it is a message from the past a link connecting the old life with the new. I found it in the cave where I lived so long with Soltaire. Poor, kind old man ! How often have I wondered what his fate was." "Shall I open the package, grand mother? It may reveal something of the mystery." "Yes, my child, you may open it. My hand trembles so I cannot." CHAPTER VIII. SOLTAIRE'S SECRET. "While yet on old Chocorua's top The lingering sunlight says farewell, Your purple fingered labor stop, And hear a tale I have to tell." Garland was present at the farmhouse at the time, and Louise had learned that her grandmother felt no hesitation in let ting him listen to the paper left by Sol- taire, so she opened the package without delay. The feelings of the three may be better imagined than described, as they prepared to learn the contents of the document, which was securely wrapped in several layers of birch bark that had kept the paper within perfectly dry. Mrs. Wilbur's mind was very clear for a woman of her age, and she was as anxious as her companions to know what the strange man had written. Since her recovery from the illness arising from 136 Soltaire the blow she had received on her head, at the time she had fallen on the side of Black Mountain, she had recovered a very vivid memory of her childhood days a memory she had lost on the night of the storm, when all but she of her family had perished ; for her words proved that she was Martha Willey of that ill-fated home. But Louise is read ing from the hermit's manuscript : "Dear Martha: I am sure this will eventually fall into your hands, so I ad dress these, my last words to a human being, to you. I have not long to live, and my dream to see you once more can not be fulfilled. When I left you that day I intended to find you, but the temp tation for me to remain at the Soltaryage a while was too strong for me to resist. But I stayed too long. Winter has caught me here. I am not prepared for it as I have been before. This afternoon I must go in quest of wood and meat. In my weakened condition I feel that I shall never return. But I must starve to death if I remain. Soltaire's Secret 137 " I have more important things to say than this. If I never come back the world will not miss me. But you may care to know more of the old man, who, with all his faults, tried to be a kind father to you. I was kinder to you than I was to my own child, though it mav be he has a kind thought for his poor, mis guided parent. Though you have often questioned me, you must have more often wondered who I was, living a life of voluntary exile in the mountains. First, let me tell you who you are, though in doing it I must confess to a wrong done you. And yet that wrong was not in tentional. " On the night I rescued you from the flood of that terrible storm I felt quite sure you were the daughter of Samuel and Polly Willey, but I had no proof of it then, and I concluded to remain silent until I was certain of what I said. Again, all of your family perished, and I could see no real necessity why I should give you the pain of the sad truth. The blow on your head had kindly removed all memory of that dreadful affair, and why should I be more cruel than the storm? 138 Soltaire Now I have found proof that you are Martha Willey, the sole survivor of the lost family. You may care to know this now. Visiting the lonely house when no one was near I found several little mementoes that will go to help you es tablish your identity whenever you wish. All of these I have carefully preserved, and you will find them in a separate package near where this is placed, hop ing it will sometime be found by you. " Now a few words as to myself, writ ten out that if my son or his children should learn of it the information may prove of satisfaction to them. My fam ily were rich, and as a young man I had great expectations of a successful life. My prospects seemed doubly bright when I met and learned to love beautiful Polly Hilton. She returned my love, and we looked forward to a happy future. But anticipation was kinder than realization. I went abroad with my parents and an other a young cousin who had always lived in our family. Our ship was wrecked in a gale, and several of the passengers were lost. So it was two years later before I got home. You Soltaire's Secret 139 may judge of my surprise to be told that Polly had married one Samuel Willey, and was living in the White Mountains. It seems that she had been told that I had gone away to marry my cousin, and believing that I had been false to her, as well as hearing that I was lost at sea, she had accepted Mr. Willey, who had been an old suitor. " My parents now wanted me to marry my cousin, and she being willing, I finally consented. She lived only three years after, a kind and faithful wife, leaving at her death a little son for me to look after. But my father and mother were wrapped up in the little one, so that I came to think less and less of him. I do not say I did not love him with a father's yearning, but my heart was in another's keeping. So I wandered away from home, eventually finding my way to the home of Polly Willey. She was happily married, and while she shed scalding tears over the bitter mistake which had been made, she bade me go my way in peace and never see her again. " Literally I kept my promise, but instead of returning to my home as I 140 Soltaire ought to have done, I sought the moun tains, and here I took up my solitary abode. At first I intended to return to those I had left, but I put it off until it seemed too late. Then you came, and the rest need not be told here. " During those intervals when I was away I was trying to learn something of your parentage, or something of my son. In the last I was entirely unsuccessful. Father and mother had removed to some place unknown to me, and I felt I had seen little Walter for the last time. Knowing that I was all to blame, my lot has been the harder to bear, though I have tried to meet the inevitable calmly. "There is one thing more of which I wish to speak, and then I am done. The great carbuncle which I found, and which I believe to be invaluable, still rests where it fell into the old well near the mouth of the cave. I have tried to remove it, but failed. Now I wish you to obtain assistance and get possession of it. It will make you rich, for I give it all to you. I hope you are happy with John Wilbur. I believe he is an honest man. I wish I wish many things, but Soltaire's Secret 141 I need not write more. My fingers are cramped now, and the tears fall so I can hardly see what I have written. Think of me as kindly as you can, and if you ever meet my son Walter, show him this, and tell him his father's heart was not devoid of love for him. "MARK GARLAND." During the reading of the last part of this narrative Arthur Garland showed uncommon interest, which increased as she continued until, at the close, he sprang to his feet, exclaiming : "Mark Garland! Can it be? That man was my great-grandfather. My grandfather's name was Walter, and his father went away in just such a manner as that paper says. It must be true. Miss Freenoble Louise this is indeed a strange revelation." The others were scarcely less surprised than he, and the three conversed on the matter a long time, and the manuscript was read through again. Many things 142 Soltaire which had been mysterious to them be fore were now plain, and Arthur was convinced that the strange hermit who had so long called himself "Soltaire" was really his great-grandparent. " Father will be glad to hear of this," he said. " How singular that our fortunes have been drawn so closely together. I am sure you will no longer delay your answer to my question asked that after noon as we sat in the old maple." "Isn't it strange that grandmother should have wandered off in the way she did, and find her way back here to the mountains?" asked Louise, as if to change the topic. " There are many strange happenings in our lives, as uneventful as they seem. She is in her second childhood, and per haps it was not as surprising as we think that her mind returned to the old haunts of her girlhood. At any rate, I can see no better explanation. Her fall in the mountains, when either frightened or She laid her hand silently, trustingly, in his. Soltaire's Secret 143 struck by the fluttering eagle, was the cause of the return of her recollection of the adventures of the night of the slide. I have no doubt but she is Martha Willey." " If you are Soltaire's great-grandson, the great carbuncle belongs to you, "said Louise. "Not so. Does n't he expressly give it to your grandmother? At the first opportunity we will get a few trusty men to help us, when we will obtain the won derful gem. For your part it will prove a veritable diamond. As for myself, I have found a priceless jewel, and am only waiting for you to speak the word which shall make me the happiest of all men." They had now approached the open door, and standing there side by side, looking out upon the great amphitheatre of mountains, she laid her hand silently, trustingly, in his. THE END. 8153 University of California SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 405 Hilgard Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90024-1388 Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed. DC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY A 000 676 656 2