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.
 
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