A Colonial Wooing BY DR. ABBOTT THE BIRDS ABOUT US. Seventy, five illustrations, izmo, cloth, $2.00. RECENT RAMBLES ; OR, IN TOUCH WITH NATURE. Illustrated. i2mo, cloth, $2.00. TRAVELS IN A TREE-TOP. Tall izmo, cloth, $1.25. A Colonial Wooing By Charles Conrad Abbott, M.D. PHILADELPHIA J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY MDCCCXCV COPYRIGHT, 1895, BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY. PRINTED BY J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY, PHILADELPHIA, U.S.A. RECALLING THE SEVERAL OCCASIONS WHEN THE FORTUNES OF RUTH AND JOHN WERE SO EARNESTLY DIS- CUSSED, IT SEEMS AS FITTING AS IT IS PLEASANT TO DEDICATE THIS STORY TO THE FRIEND WHOSE INTEREST THEREIN URGED ME TO WRITE WHAT I HAVE WRITTEN. C. C. A. APRIL 10, 1895. 1782150 Contents. Chapter I. PAGB A Fruitless Discussion 19 Chapter II. New to the Neighborhood 29 Chapter III. " There's Many a Slip, etc." 39 Chapter IV. Too Much about Nothing 48 Chapter V. A Worse Fate threatened 60 Chapter VI. A Letter from England 69 Chapter VII. The Sale of the Shallop 79 Chapter VIII. The New Partnership 91 Chapter IX. The Reply to the Letter 103 CONTENTS Chapter X. Ruth and her Cousin Chapter XI. The New Year .............. 130 Chapter XII. Straightening the Lines ........... 144 Chapter XIII. A Visit to Burlington ........... 153 Chapter XIV. Plots and Counter-plots ........... 165 Ch'apter XV. Music in Meeting ............. 174 Chapter XVI. The Departure of Ruth .......... 189 Chapter XVII. A Night on the Creek ........... 199 Chapter XVIII. Robert defies Matthew ........... 212 Chapter XIX. A Committee calls upon John Bishop ...... 222 Chapter XX. All's Well that ends Well ......... 234 8 Introduction i. THERE was a strange silence everywhere, as is not uncommon in the month of August, for now the promises of summer had been made good, and the world is at rest. Not a leaf stirred, and, except the plaintive note of some far-off bird, I could hear only my own foot-falls. The trees and fields and shaded winding lane were as I had seen them last, when darkness shut them in, but now, in the early morning, it seemed as if the sun had brought sad tidings. It has always appeared to me that August days are days for retro- spection, and that the mind is supersensitive at such a time. It takes notice of those things which in the hurry and clatter of June are overlooked. This is no mere whim, and on this occasion the effect was 9 INTRODUCTION to convince me that something unusual had happened or was about to occur. I had heard of an oaken chest, with huge brass clamps, and to-day set out to find it. There was not a wagon to be seen when I turned from the lane into the township road, and so I had the dusty highway to myself, a furthering of my fancy. Even more lonely was the wood-road into which I turned, and of late it had been so little used, it was as much the meeting-ground of bird-life as of humanity. Everywhere it was shaded by cedars of great age or by elms under which the moss had grown since colonial days. Along this ancient way the rambler has little to remind him of the changes wrought in the passing century. What few houses are passed in the course of a long walk are old-time structures, and more than one has been abandoned. The reason was plain : the land is poor, and whatever inducements were held out to the original settlers had not been continued to the fifth and sixth genera- tions. Still, not all the tract had reverted to forest. A little garden-plot about each of INTRODUCTION the cottages that were occupied was still held back, by spade and hoe, from the encroach- ments of wild growth, and in the last cot- tage to be reached, surrounded by every feature of an old-fashioned garden, lived Silas Crabtree. As a child I had feared him, and now I both disliked and admired him ; why as is so often the case I could not tell. The man and his house were not unlike. The cottage was a long, low building, one and a half stories high. A window on each side of the door barely showed beneath the projecting roof of a narrow porch extending the full length of the front. There was a single step from the porch to the ground. From the roof projected two squat dormer windows. The shingles were darkened by long exposure, and patches of moss grew about the eaves. Silas was like this. The windows and door and long low step recalled his eyes, nose, and mouth, overtopped by low projecting brows and unkempt hair, that were well represented by the cottage roof with its moss and dormers. So far the house INTRODUCTION and its solitary inmate ; but the open well with its long sweep, the clump of lilacs, the spreading beech with initials cut long years ago, these were a poem. While the day was yet young, I passed by, and Silas was sitting on the porch. The quiet of this month of day-dreams was un- broken. The cat-bird hopped about the grass, but was mute ; a song-sparrow was perched on the topmost twig of a dead quince-bush, but did not sing ; a troop of crows was passing overhead in perfect silence. Feeling more strongly than ever the moodiness of the morning, I strove to break the spell by shouting, with unnecessary emphasis, " Good-morning, Uncle Silas." With a sudden start the old man looked up and stared wildly about him. Straightway the cat-bird chirped, the sparrow sang, and from over the tree-tops came the welcome cawing of the crows. Even a black cat came from the house and rubbed its arched back against Silas's knees. The spell was broken, and the old man growled (for he could not talk as other men), " I'm glad you've come." 12 INTRODUCTION "Oh, I was only passing by; were you asleep?" " Sleepin' or not, I was thinkin' of you. Come in." Stepping rather reluctantly into the yard, I sat down on the floor of the porch near Silas, for he did not offer to get me a chair, and waited for him to speak. " As a boy," said Silas, in softer tones than I had ever heard before, " you had a grudge again' me, as your father had again' mine, and your grandpap again' mine, and so on away back. It never showed much, that I know of, but the feelin' was there : and yet we started even, for my folks came from England as long ago as yourn. " But there's no Crabtree besides me, and I wanted to get things in shape, for there's some would like the old cottage that ain't goin' to get it. I don't know that there's any more to tell you." And Silas looked out towards the road and into the woods upon its other side. I kept my seat. I could not do other- wise. The Silas of to-day was not he whom 13 INTRODUCTION I had known in years past. Although there was no evidence of it in the old .man's words, I was convinced he had reference to me as his heir ; but what of that ? He might change his mind a dozen times, for he was not so very, very old, not much, if any, over eighty ; and what, indeed, had he to leave*? Many minutes passed, and then, as I made a slight movement, merely to change my position, Silas spoke in the same strangely softened voice. " Don't go, don't go ; there's one thing more " He suddenly paused, and stared, with a wild look, directly at me. The silence was painful ; his strange appear- ance more so. In a moment the truth flashed across me : he was dead. II. I was not surprised to learn, immediately after the funeral, that I had been left the sole legatee of the man whose death I had witnessed. When I took formal possession of the cottage and its contents, I entered the house for the first time in my life. To INTRODUCTION cross the threshold was to step backward into colonial times. How true it is that it needs at least a century to mellow a house and make it faintly comparable to out-of- doors ! The hall-way of the Crabtree cottage was neither short nor narrow, but you got that impression from its low ceiling and the dark wooden walls, which time had almost black- ened. Lifting a stout wooden latch, I passed into the living-room, with its ample open fireplace, long unused, for a little air- tight stove had done duty for both cooking and heating for many years. This was the only innovation : all else was as when its first occupant had moved into the "new" house and given over the log hut to other uses. The high-backed settle, the quaint, claw-footed chairs, a home-made table, with bread-trough underneath, seemed never to have been moved from their places since Silas's mother died. These made less im- pression than would otherwise have been the case, because with them was a very old and mysterious-looking desk. It was a bureau 15 INTRODUCTION with five brass-handled drawers, and above them the desk proper, concealed by a heavy, sloping lid. The dark wood had still a fine polish, and the lid was neatly ornamented with an inlaid star of holly wood. It, with the three-plumed mirror on the wall above it, was the eclipsing feature of the room. All else, well enough in its way, seemed commonplace. Drawing a chair in front of the desk, I sat down to explore it, but was bewildered at the very outset. Lowering the lid, the many pigeon-holes, small drawers, and inner apartment closed by a carved door, took me too much by surprise to let me be methodical. Everywhere were old, stained papers and parchments, some so very old the ink had faded from them ; but there was no disorder. At last, knowing it was no time to dream, I drew out a bundle of papers from a pigeon-hole, and noticed in doing so that a strip of carved wood, which I had taken for ornament, slightly moved. It proved to be a long and very narrow drawer, and this again had a more carefully hidden compartment in the back, as a narrow line in 16 INTRODUCTION the wood showed. Peering into this, I found a scrap of paper so long and closely folded that it fell apart when opened ; but the writing was still distinct. It was as follows : " It is his Excellency's, Genl. Howe's express order, that no person shall injure Silas Crab- tree in his person or property." It was duly signed, countersigned, and dated Dec'r 9, 1776. So Silas, the great-grandfather, had been a Tory ! I was prepared now for revelations of any kind. To look quietly over papers, one at a time, was too prosy an occupation, and the suggestion that there might be more secret drawers was followed until every nook and cranny had been laid bare, and there were many of them. The next day, as the place could not be left unguarded, I moved the old desk to my own home, and placed a tenant in the cottage ; and now, there is not a scrap of paper among all that the desk contained that I have not read, and my comment is : colonial days were not so very unlike those of the present time. It is true, our ances- tors' surroundings were very different, and 2 17 " INTRODUCTION much that was then accounted a luxury is now an absolute necessity, or so we think ; but of one condition there can be no dispute, human nature was the same. Among the many papers that had been so long preserved there chanced to be that rarest form of old documents, a journal. Almost two centuries ago, an eye-witness of the occurrences to be narrated made brief men- tion of the part he took therein. These, with various memoranda, which threw more or less light upon fhe doings of those days, were rolled together and enclosed in a quaint red leather wallet, from which the silver clasp had been taken ; and from these time- worn records, which are still preserved, I have gathered the essential features of the story of Ruth Davenport, who in fact, and not merely in the author's fancy, was known to many as a " Quaker Fairy." 18 A Colonial Wooing Chapter I. A Fruitless Discussion. " MOTHER, John has spoken " " Daughter, father will not approve " "Of John's having remarked it is a pleasant day *?" " I supposed that thee meant that he had" "Suggested so serious a matter as my taking up " " Daughter, thee is strangely giddy " " Mother, is thee not strangely hasty to suppose " " Ruth, dear, let me " " Yes, mother ; but first let me " Both talked so nearly at once that it might be said that neither listened, and now a word '9 A COLONIAL WOOING as to who these people were, this mother and daughter who apparently agreed only to dis- agree. It stands recorded in the minutes of an English Monthly Meeting of the Society of Friends that in the year 1666 Edmund Davenport, of Ayton, and Anne Pearson, of Monthorp, were married ' at Kirby Grindale. Their daughter Ruth was born twelve years after; and it is further on record that her mother, widowed but a year, married Mat- thew Watson, and in 1682 emigrated to America, and thirteen years later, having weathered all the privations of those primitive times, Ruth was a well-grown girl of seventeen and her mother a well-preserved woman of fifty. Constant toil, some anxiety, and a scarcely concealed longing for her old home across the sea had told upon the mother, and she would have been judged to be older than she really was when seen, as she was this bright October afternoon, busy with the much needed mending of various garments, for there were now two boys to care for. Thus occupied, Anne Watson was more disposed to look backward and recall the 20 A COLONIAL WOOING brighter days long gone, and who can indulge in retrospective thought without its sobering the countenance, when the present ill compares to the past? Not that the woman was positively unhappy, but she had opposed the suggestion of coming to America, when broached, and yielded with but a mere show of grace. In short, in spite of much effort and prayer, she could not quite overcome her disappointment ; and then Friend Stacy had seen the country from a man's point of view, and the acquiring of an estate being six-sevenths of his thought, he had grossly misrepresented the country, and there were endless hardships that the woman had to endure for years after their arrival. Matthew Watson, too, was wholly engrossed in the same worldly occupation of acquiring an estate. To be poor and yet a Friend was simply a contradiction. Inability to acquire wealth argued an understanding too feeble to appreciate the teachings of George Fox. Business, the concerns of the world, may perhaps not have been quite six-sevenths of A COLONIAL WOOING the Friends' concerns, but it would seem as if as much effort was required to shake the dust from their shoes, when they entered meeting on the first day, as to shake the worldliness from their thoughts. How else, then, can we explain the remark during silent meeting one fifth day morning of Mahlon Stacy, when, hearing a loud clap of thunder, he muttered audibly, " Tut-tut-tut ! my hay." Duty had brought him from the meadow to the meeting, but at a critical moment had left him in the lurch. But more than all else that had sobered Ruth's mother was Ruth herself; for, as events in the past had proved, the mother was conscientiously a Friend and accepted Fox implicitly as her teacher and guide, and now as her daughter approached woman- hood, she essayed, but in vain, to have her like unto herself. Ruth, although surrounded by Quaker influences all her life, soon began to make, so the world holds, the fatal mis- take of thinking for herself. While never disobedient as a child, she was always inde- pendent, and the excellence of her judgment 22 A COLONIAL WOOING caused frequent comment among her elders, but not dissociated with the fear that she might, by her too great self-reliance, prove something of a thorn in her parents' flesh in years to come. Her comely figure, the grace of every movement, and the brightness of dark-blue eyes that the hideous bonnet of those bigoted days could not conceal, caused many a young head to be turned as she entered meeting, and this the elders, in sober array in the gallery, had too often noticed not to hint at the unseemliness of the habit. " It is a concern upon my mind that we should restrain our children more ; their thoughts are too much of this world and too little of their souls' salvation," Friend Stacy had recently remarked, and Ruth had severely criticised him when she reached home. "Why should we be restrained from loving that which is neither a device of man nor the devil. There is color, music, gayety everywhere, except in our houses, and yet we are asked to turn our backs upon it. That's what his sermon amounts to. I can look, without offence, at a blooming rose, if 23 A COLONIAL WOOING it is out of reach, but must not pick it or put it on my kerchief. Mustn't indeed ! I will." And with this vehement protest Ruth darted from the house, and before her parents could recover their astonishment, returned with an apron-full of scarlet autumn leaves and scattered them over the kitchen floor; then standing in front of her mother, who looked ill with fright, asked, " Would thee have the whole world steeped in dust and dinginess ; never a blue sky or a rosy sunset *? Always clouds above and bare ground be- neath *? Oh, for the gay cousins that we have in England, for which thee feel so much concern ! How I would like to see them !" And again away she flew like a frightened bird, seeing that at last she had overtaxed her father's patience and he was about to speak. An hour later, when he came in, evidently with a fixed determination to sternly rebuke his step-daughter, he found her demure as the soberest " Friend" in all Chesterfield, and with " No Cross, No Crown," lying opened upon her lap. She looked up with the merest trace of a smile lighting her face, and 24 as it had always been, he was moved to say nothing. Matthew Watson was proud of his step-daughter and afraid of his neighbors, but could not have been forced to admit it. He had heard more than one comment that inwardly moved him, yet deemed it prudence not to speak in her defence. His standing in meeting might be affected. It had been soberly stated that the sun shone about her even when the day was cloudy, and that she needed no taper when she retired. Such was the gossip of meddlesome old women, and Matthew Watson had heard of the witchcraft in New England and was a little troubled ; but he was an elder in meeting and must hold his peace. Not so Ruth's mother. She dared speak, at least in her own house, and so that same bright October afternoon she finally gained her daughter's attention and spoke her mind freely. " Ruth, I insist that thee shall listen. Thee knows full well thy conscience troubles thee, and yet thee will riot heed the warnings of the inward voice." " But, mother " A COLONIAL WOOING "Do not speak, dear, until I have done. Thee cannot in thy soberer moments acquit thyself for such light conversation and " " And what ?" asked Ruth, as her mother paused for a moment, opening her magnifi- cent eyes to the fullest extent and gazing into her mother's face. " And conduct towards John." Ruth had been sitting on a low stool at her mother's feet during the conversation, but when she heard these words, she sprang to her feet and repeated them with an emphasis suggestive of mingled indignation and sur- prise. " Conduct towards John ! Why, 1 have known him since almost a baby, and never a word of this until now. What has been said to thee about us, or what has thee or father noticed that I should be so strangely taken to task ?" " Does thee not know that John is much impressed by thee*?" " No, mother, nor is he aware of it, nor is thee, nor is any one except the idle busybodies that have crept into our scattered neighbor- 26 A COLONIAL WOOING hood, or were here before we came. The only impression I ever made on John Bishop was when I jumped from the overturning boat and landed on his feet. I noticed he limped for half an hour afterwards." " Ruth, Ruth, will thee never be serious ?" asked her mother, in despair. " Never, mother dear, when thee persists in talking in such a way. John Bishop has his shop to look after, and I do not believe his business is so flourishing that he is thinking of a wife. Thee need not fear my friendly greeting, when we happen to meet, will cause him to lose his heart, and I have yet got mine in my own keeping. Why, mother, I'm but seventeen and he is must be thirty. Really, you seem to be putting such ideas in my head in hopes that I will soon marry and leave you. Do you want me to leave you, mother dear, so very, very soon 1 ?" And again those deep blue eyes opened widely and pleaded, as usual, far more eloquently than any words. " Indeed, I do not, Ruth, as thee should know ;" but Ruth felt that perhaps her mother 27 A COLONIAL WOOING had given such a thought some consideration and was not disposed to listen further. Kiss- ing her mother while she was yet speaking, she turned suddenly and left the room. Chapter II. New to the Neighborhood. EASY communication with Philadelphia, by water, had made it so practicable for the settlers of the back country, as the valley of Crosswicks Creek was then called, to procure such household articles and farm utensils as were needed, that so early as 1695 only grist-mills had as yet been established, and these were few and far between. The Indian mortars were still in common use, and he was the thriftiest settler who was the best me- chanic and could most easily depend upon himself. The ordinary divisions of labor outside the village of Philadelphia were prac- tically wanting, and so it was a decided nov- elty, and hailed as evidence of better days when perhaps a village would centre about some convenient point, when John Bishop and William Blake built a wheelwright-shop and smithy at a sharp bend of the winding 29 A COLONIAL WOOING road that led from the forest and scattered plantations of Burlington County, where it crossed the creek and continued to the river. It was a particularly pleasing feature of the neighborhood to those who were keenly bent upon acquiring an estate, because it was evidence of a steady and healthy growth of the scattered community, and it was hailed with keen delight by the descendants of those earliest settlers, English, Swedes, and Dutch, who, having provided for their few wants, were pleased to have a lounging-place ; and so it came about that at Bishop and Blake's those who for the time being might be idle were soon wont to congregate. Skilled workmen were then more promi- nent in the social world than now. Not that labor has ever lost its dignity, but wealth had not yet become the arrogant tyrant of to-day ; and among the Friends some calling was required of every one. There was but one profession open to them, medicine, and but few had the opportunity, even if the inclina- tion, to devote themselves thereto. To have a trade was a necessity; to be apprenticed 30 A COLONIAL WOOING and learn to work with hands as well as head the experience of every boy. To master the trade's secrets, to become a skilled workman, was, in short, to become a successful man ; one that commanded, and deservedly so, the respect of his fellows. Wheeled vehicles were not a prominent feature of the public roads at this time, and Bishop and Blake had but few carts to build or mend, but still they were not idle. They offered their services in every way as good me- chanics, and there was enough simple furni- ture to be made and of miscellaneous repairing to keep their tools bright. The shop itself was a primitive affair, a long, low wooden shed, built of squared logs, and not unlike in general appearance many a dwelling in the lonely valley. There were two features, how- ever, that appealed to every one who passed by. During summer and early autumn a superb, spreading oak near the shop door cast a welcome shade, wherein the lounger was well content to linger, and a roomy fireplace with its rude forge, that defied the most earnest efforts of winter to make the place 31 A COLONIAL WOOING cheerless even when storms raged without. An all-pervading evidence of welcome greeted every comer, and a stranger was hailed with demonstrations of delight. Communication with the outside world, and especially with England, was infrequent, and a letter from across the sea would often be read to those gathered under the oak, with but scanty omission of strictly private matter. Natu- rally every unusual occurrence among the settlers was quickly known to all, and so every prolonged conversation ultimately turned upon the future of the province. As the warm October sunshine brings the bees and wasps to our south windows, where they busily hum and buzz as if they had the cares of the world upon their shoulders, so, this pleasant afternoon, it had brought several of the neighbors to the front of the shop, some with a purpose and, as usual, others without one. Among the former was Mat- thew Watson, to take away a mended tool that he had left, and as he was passing from the door he gave a disapproving glance at the little knot of idlers, as he thought them 32 A COLONIAL WOOING who were standing about the old oak's gnarly trunk. As these few men were quite uncon- scious of any impropriety in congregating as they had done, they gave no heed to Friend Watson beyond a pleasant greeting, and so were the more surprised that he should in- terrupt their conversation. " Is it not most unseemly," he asked, " to idle away such precious time, when the season is so favorable for labor? Is it possible that you have no greater concern upon your minds than idle gossip*?" " I was not aware, Neighbor Watson," re- marked Robert Pearson, with some excite- ment, "that either I or these friends were idling our own time ; and what if it were true, for you have yourself said it was our own time that was passing, and so not yours," giving emphasis to the " you" and " yours" with evident satisfaction, for Robert was a churchman of a belligerent stamp. Matthew Watson had been so successful in worldly affairs that he had become in a measure dictatorial, as is so often the case, and this unfortunate feature had gradually 3 33 A COLONIAL WOOING intensified as his views of religion became more and more pronounced. Possibly he would not have burned a church or hanged a churchman, but he would have removed them from the province to the nearest desert. Robert Pearson had turned his back upon his neighbor when he ceased speaking, and was about resuming his conversation that had been so strangely interrupted, when it oc- curred to him that he would still further speak his mind, and, facing about, added, "I am as much bound by my interests to this country as you are, hold as many acres, pay as large a tax, and trust I have a right to expect as much respect from my fellows. We were talking of a project that concerns us all, that of building a draw- bridge over the creek, where the ferry now is. You know the ford was but a poor accommodation, and now the ferry is little better. A bridge would be greatly to our advantage." " I do not know that the ferry has ever failed to bring me over safely," remarked Matthew, in a haughty tone, for his anger 34 A COLONIAL WOOING still glowed under the thin covering of non- resistant principles. " Nor has it failed me ; but in winter, as you know, we have to trust to the uncertain ice at times, and that was nearly an accident when the ice broke behind your cart instead of under it. Your memory is short." " I trust it will never become as short as thy tongue is flippant," Matthew replied, and moved away. " Do, friends, do be guarded in your con- versation, lest Friend Watson take offence," exclaimed William Blake, running, bare- headed, from the shop. " He may prejudice the neighbors and so we lose their trade." "Don't worry on that score, William," replied Robert Pearson ; " the whole province is not made up of Quakers, not even this township of Chesterfield, and, thank good- ness, all are not of the stamp of Matthew Watson." '* I know, I know ; but, friends, I've forty pounds silver money in this venture and John has but ten, and it weighs upon me that we may not succeed." 35 A COLONIAL WOOING His hearers laughed heartily at the poor fellow's fears and began teasing him, when his partner, John Bishop, walked from the shop door. The little group at once turned towards him as he approached, for he was, though a young man, one that commanded the respect of all who knew him. The influence of his presence is not readily ex- plained. There was nothing in his manner in the nature of a demand except for that respectful treatment that all true men ask for themselves; but beyond this was a subtle something, a look, a tone, a motion, what you will, that attracted attention and excited admiration. Of medium height, properly proportioned, with delicate features, but with chin so far prominent and square as to in- dicate firmness, yet without a trace of ob- stinacy ; in short, a man capable of forming an opinion, and not incapable of relinquishing it if convinced of its defectiveness. In other words, John Bishop was a superior man ; one that would be looked to, if not always as a leader, at least as one to whom it is desirable to listen should he see fit to speak. 36 A COLONIAL WOOING " William, thee left an iron in the fire that is far more likely to suffer than thy forty pounds." And taking the hint, John's timid partner slipped quietly back to the shop and was seen no more. Turning then to Robert Pearson, John continued, " Let us counsel patience when we have so much to do to make our community a success, and certainly anything like a quarrel is a step backward." Robert said nothing in reply, and while it was plain that he was annoyed and took the reproof as a disguised threat, it was equally evident that he would be very slow to pick a quarrel with John Bishop, than whom there was no more peaceful man in the province, and yet none that would more promptly face danger if the necessity arose. To these gifts should be added a happy quickness of wit that grasped an awkward situation promptly and placed others at ease more quickly than their own efforts would have done. " You were talking of the ferry, I think, so let us walk down to it now, and on the spot we can better plan for the change to a bridge, if determined upon." And the group started for 37 A COLONIAL WOOING the creek, John Bishop and Robert Pearson taking the lead. It was but a short distance, a small fraction of a mile, and in a few minutes these earnest men were standing on the east bank of the creek, which, after curving and twisting through the wide meadows, was here, at the ferry, narrow, rapid, and deep. Chapter III. " There's Many a Slip, etc" THE lane leading from Matthew Watson's to the creek was a short but very winding one, and for much of the way well shaded by thrifty trees. A more direct route might have been laid out without the loss of any tillable or pasture land. Years ago, when the house was built, there had been some discussion concerning this lane, and Matthew now regretted at times that he had yielded to others, for he knew it to be a common say- ing among his worldly neighbors that the lane was as crooked as its owner. But Matthew's wife had taken matters in hand at the critical moment and astonished her over- bearing husband by a firmness that was before then unsuspected. All attractiveness should not be sacrificed to the selfish convenience of the men. The landscape, as she saw it from the single window of her little parlor 39 A COLONIAL WOOING anci from the two larger windows of the roomy kitchen, had several pleasing features, and these she succeeded in preserving, when the suggestion was made to clear the inter- vening ground of its scattered trees and cut a straight and level road to the creek's bank. A stately tulip-tree, a branching elm, and half a dozen sturdy scarlet-oaks crowned a bit of slightly rising ground, and between them she had the road to wind, and even prevailed on her husband to plant other trees and a short hedge of rhododendron, that the whole way might in time become a most pleasant place. She would indeed have gone even further in this matter of landscape gardening, but Matthew's patience was exhausted, and some one had made the unfortunate remark that his wife seemed to be reproducing some of the features of her old home. Then Matthew became obstinate beyond cure, for it had ever been a sore trial that his wife could not see the world about them with his eyes. Were they not abundantly prosperous, and was not this all-sufficient, and an evidence, too, that heaven was smiling upon them? 4 o A COLONIAL WOOING What more could a woman want ? " Had they not a home, and food and clothing in abundance*?" he had been known to remark on more than one occasion, but he never gave a thought to the fact that the yarn was spun, the food prepared, while he was leisurely discussing with his neighbors the affairs of the meeting. But Matthew was neither lazy nor heartless, nor his wife given to complain- ing. It was merely an instance of a woman's unspoken thoughts not always according with her husband's expressed convictions. Sauntering down this pleasant lane came Ruth with her two brothers, and when she felt sure she was quite out of hearing she slowly sang, to the boys delight, Reclined beside the crystal rill, When all is lonely, all is still, Save wild birds' songs from yonder hill, Oh, let me muse in secrecy. Here let me in these shades reclined Forget the ills I left behind, That love was vain or friends unkind, That fortune looked not smilingly. A COLONIAL WOOING A song of sorrow suits the day, No star of love doth light my way, Friendships ere yet they bloom decay, All is delusive phantasy. Before her song was finished they were standing at the water's edge. The crimson flush of the Virginia-creeper that climbed a tall cedar behind her was a perfect back- ground for this fair young woman as she stood gazing into the swift stream, catching glimpses of herself whenever, for a second, the water's surface was unruffled. Pleasures come and go as quickly as these reflections of myself, she was thinking, and then she held her face up and looked intently across the stream, but not so much at the wooded slope that on that side hemmed it in, as at the curl- ing smoke that she knew came from the fire in John Bishop's shop. " How could mother get such an idea into her head *?" she said to herself, but loud enough for her brothers to hear. "What has mother got in her head 1 ?" asked the younger of the two boys, a per- sistent, inquisitive lad of eleven summers. 42 A COLONIAL WOOING " Nothing, dear," Ruth replied. " Please try to catch me a fish for supper." " But I want to know," he whined, in his usual trying way. " And thee cannot know, so go on with thy fishing." "Then I'll ask mother when we get home." " And then I will no more sing to thee, my boy." " Thee is real ugly to me ; I won't catch thee any fish." " Am I, dear ? Well, I am ugly to every- body and feel cross as a bear." And again Ruth looked at the little thread of smoke that curled among the branches of the tower- ing oak by the shop door. But if ugly in the eyes of her little brother, she was not to others as she stood on the bank of the creek, her stately figure trim as the timid fawns that she often started in the woods, her golden-brown hair that rippled down her back like the laughing waters of a pebbly brook, her clear skin that was slightly darkened by the sunshine to which it was 43 A COLONIAL WOOING constantly exposed, but not to the conceal- ment of the color that came and went ac- cording to her mood, the well-arched eye- brows darker than her hair, the straight nose and well rounded, but not too prominent chin ; these made up a picture that seemed to need just such an occasion to flash their full significance upon the beholder, and there she stood when John Bishop and Robert Pearson, leading the little group that we have seen at the shop, came suddenly into view, directly across the stream. Ruth recognized them at a glance and turned suddenly to go home, or at least to be out of sight, but she was not sufficiently guarded in her movements. She had been standing on apparently firm ground and had paid no heed to its constant trembling nor noticed its gradual yielding to her weight. Her more violent motion now caused the earth, which was deeply undermined, to sud- denly give way. She was not quick enough to leap from where she stood to the fast ground, and in an instant was struggling in the rapid water and borne by the current into 44 A COLONIAL WOOING its channel. A piercing cry went up as she disappeared, a cry that was more than one for help, yet he who so plainly heard it had no such thought. She had not cried out " help !" but " John !" In an instant, seeing what had happened, John Bishop had freed himself of his coat and heavy boots and plunged into the creek, before his companions had realized what had really happened. A few strokes brought him to the spot where Ruth had sunk, and the moment he reached it she reappeared, her hair floating at full length upon the surface of the water and her eyes widely opened, but staring vacantly at the sky, after a sin- gle glance of recognition. John placed an arm beneath her shoulders, and thus bearing his fainting burden, with no little difficulty stemmed the current and reached the shore. John had but followed an ordinary im- pulse ; he had seen a human being in immi- nent danger and snatched her from it, so he thought ; but what meant that strange feel- ing in his breast when he looked so steadily into her vacant, staring eyes, as he laid her 45 A COLONIAL WOOING limp form upon the ground and, still support- ing her head, said, imploringly, " Ruth, Ruth, you are in no danger now ; do speak !" The effects of the shock were slowly pass- ing away, and before John's companions could reach him, by means of the clumsy ferry, Ruth had revived and murmured, but not so gently that John did not hear her, " I thank thee, John ; do please let me return home." Ruth attempted to rise as she spoke, but her strength had not returned with her con- sciousness, and she was utterly helpless. " Let me carry thee home, Ruth," said John, very gently. And he was about to take her up in his arms as a mother would lift her little child, when the men, who had crossed the creek, came up and made a circle about them. All asked at once concerning her and were anxious to be of use, and the bewilder- ing babel of many voices was evidently having an ill effect upon Ruth's tortured nerves. John was quick to see the annoy- ance their presence caused, and motioning to them to stand aside and keep silent, he lifted 4 6 A COLONIAL WOOING Ruth from the ground and started towards her home. The men slowly followed. She made no movement as she was borne along in this strange manner, and without a word spoken the little procession reached Matthew Watson's house. Ruth's mother chanced to see them coming, and met them at the door. The two boys, who until now had been too frightened to speak, rushed up to her and shouted, " Sister's drowned !" "Not drowned, but might have been," John remarked, hastily. " Speak, Ruth." But Mrs. Watson did not hear him. Her boys' words were ringing in her ears, and with clasped hands she sank upon the seat of the little porch and gazed vacantly at her daughter, still firmly held in John's strong arms. For a moment she could not speak, and then recovering, she asked, " Is she really gone *?" Assured to the contrary by both Ruth and John, who spoke at the same moment, she arose and led the way into the house. 47 Chapter IV. Too Much about Nothing. THERE were no Indian runners available by whom to report to distant parts the im- portant occurrences of any day ; neverthe- less news of all kinds quickly spread, and the day following the accident to Ruth members of every family in the valley and beyond its bounds came hither, the men usually gather- ing at the wheelwright-shop and the women at Ruth's home, that the minutest details of the accident might be obtained. John Bishop, to his great annoyance, was the hero of the hour, and when not being closely questioned was gazed at as the fortunate man who had rescued Ruth. The promi- nence of Matthew Watson in the community had, of course, much to do with such general interest in an incident which really had no heroic element. Indeed, one observing old man had been heard to say, " Had it been poor 4 8 A COLONIAL WOOING folks, none on 'em would so much as lookt out o' their winders." The eye-witnesses naturally came in for a full share of attention also, and it was amusing to hear each one explain how it was that he was too late to be of any real use in the emergency. Their explanations made them heroes only in their own eyes. One, more loquacious and a coward at heart, remarked, as if it was a witty thought, " It looks like to me that John knew all about it beforehand, and it was planned to have old Watson look with favor on him," and then laughed im moderately; but his merriment was soon cut short. The remark had been overheard, and without seeing who struck him, the fellow rolled upon the grass. Robert Pearson had no patience with idle babblers, and besides that, Ruth was distantly related. John Bishop took the praise bestowed upon him patiently at first, but before the day passed it became tiresome arid then dis- tasteful. The truth was, the incident had influenced him in a way that his neigh- bors did not suspect. He constantly saw, 4 49 A COLONIAL WOOING not Ruth merely rescued, but her single piercing glance, and then staring at him with those dark-blue eyes that really saw not ; and then there would come the vision of Ruth pleading to be allowed to walk home, with those eyes reillumined with a light not merely of consciousness returned or was this all but a feverish fancy of his own *? It was not until two days after the accident that Matthew Watson called at the shop to thank John for his timely assistance. The latter saw him coming and divined his errand, but there was no escaping the inevitable in- terview, and John put on as cheerful a coun- tenance as possible and determined to antici- pate Matthew by changing the character of the conversation, or if the girl's rescue must be mentioned, he would do the talking him- self. He had been a passive listener long enough. " How is thy daughter, Ruth, this morn- ing *?" he asked as Matthew entered the shop. " I trust she is well over the annoyance of an unintended bath and is in no danger of catch- ing a fever from after-excitement." 50 A COLONIAL WOOING " Yes, um ! yes ; I called, John, to tell thee how greatly indebted " " Now please be good enough, Neighbor Watson, not to talk of the matter. Why, for two whole days there has been nothing for me to do but stand and listen, and if I took up a hammer or saw, it was plain that I gave offence," and John hoped the appeal would end the conversation, but was mistaken. In the quiet of colonial days events did not follow in such quick succession that in two days a matter like this would be forgotten. " But then it was proper that I should express " " Yes, yes, I know ; but really, Neighbor Watson, there is too much made of the matter, and if Ruth has not suffered any ill effects, there is nothing further to be said." And John again hoped for silence in the future. Matthew Watson could not understand John's motive in baffling his efforts to talk the matter over, and John did not suspect that Matthew had more to say than merely a formal thanking for effective assistance at a 51 A COLONIAL WOOING critical time. It seemed too good an oppor- tunity to let his views be known concerning Ruth's future to be prevented by the ready tongue that had interrupted him so success- fully. "What thee says, John, may be quite true," remarked Matthew, after a moment's pause in the conversation, " but I had another matter on which I had a concern to speak to thee, and it seems more fitting to do so now than ever before, although upon my mind and a concern, too, of Ruth's mother." What can he have upon his mind? won- dered John, as he carefully laid his hammer upon the bench and faced Matthew, with his arms folded. " If I am to be lectured, why, here I am, and let's get through with it," he said, lightly. " Thee knows, John, that thy mind leads thee to Ruth, for it is common report, and Friends have remarked how, in meeting, thy eyes continually rest upon her." Matthew evidently expected a reply, paus- ing as he did for so long a time, for John simply kept his eyes fixed upon the speaker. 52 A COLONIAL WOOING " We cannot approve of it ; she is but a child and thee has yet thy way to make in the world. It will be years yet before thou hast acquired " ** Stop !" interrupted John, with a step for- ward that was just short of a menace. " I do not know what the common report is, but I would like to know who started it. And my eyes rest upon Ruth, do they *? in meeting. Well, I suppose thee means upon her bonnet, for it covers her head more completely than thy hat does thine. And my thoughts are upon her ! Did thee not say she was but a child*? If I mistake not, she is almost out of her childhood, and thee can rest assured that her own thoughts of her own self will be entirely respected by John Bishop. I do not know what thy plans for the future may be concerning Ruth, nor is it my business at all, but if ever a young man may speak to an older one advisedly, let me say, at this time, that thy plans will come to nothing unless they accord with Ruth's. And now, if thee pleases, I will return to my work, for there are neighbors waiting for me." And saying this, 53 A COLONIAL WOOING John went to the shop door and called his partner, who had been busy out of doors at John's suggestion, and was ail-impatiently waiting to be recalled. The interview was not a satisfactory one. Matthew Watson saw defiance in John's eyes, if he could not discover it in his words, and stood gazing intently into the ashen coals that had nearly lost their ruddy glow. There was so much he would like to say, but he felt that he was watched by a determined man, who would check at its very outset any further attempt to speak. Matthew Watson, one of the community's petty tyrants, and a most prominent figure in meeting, had met his match. " William," remarked John, as that young man entered the shop, "had we not better finish Stacy's cart-wheel ? He may call for it to-morrow." " Yes, John Good-morning, Friend Wat- son. How is Ruth to-day *? I do hope she is none the worse for her terrible fright." And William hovered about him as though he were the king and he an expectant subject. 54 A COLONIAL WOOING John nearly lost his temper, and after some struggling with himself, finally said, in rather commanding tones, " This is not the time to give to such matters ; let us heat the irons and fit them now." And William Blake, with an imploring look towards Matthew, for he longed to hear something of Ruth that he might repeat to any callers who might hap- pen in, worked vigorously at the bellows and sent myriads of sparks darting up the chimney. Still, Matthew continued to gaze intently at the fire, unheeding William for the time, and vainly endeavoring to so collect his thoughts that he might at least fire a parting shot on retiring, and appear not to be the defeated man that he was. It would be something gained to have the truth concealed from William ; but Matthew was not equal to the occasion. All he could say was, " Yes, William, Ruth is quite well, and would be pleased to see thee. The Friends have all been very kind." William was about to follow Matthew Watson from the shop, desirous of sending Ruth some pretty message, it may be, but 55 A COLONIAL WOOING John stopped him before he had taken a second step. " Thy place is here, William ; and if thee cannot remain at thy work we must close this partnership." " Close this partnership !" repeated William, in a surprised and slightly frightened manner ; " why, John, I have forty pounds to thy ten, and surely that gives me the advantage." John smiled, although his temper was yet aroused. " I am not sure what thee means by an advantage, but what would thy forty pounds be without I looked after them and thee and my own interests *? It may be forty to ten, but the care and labor is all on my side, and I will gladly buy thee out." " But what would I do ?" asked William, now a good deal worried, for he saw his part- ner was wholly in earnest and expected a serious reply. " Has thee the ready money ?" " Do *? why, spend thy time visiting Ruth ; or, better yet, perhaps Neighbor Watson would employ thee on his plantation, and then thee could see her every day." And John threw down a hammer in his hand and looked out the little window near the forge. 56 A COLONIAL WOOING " Does thee really think that Ruth would look with favor on my visits and " " William, now and for all time let me say that I must not hear Ruth discussed in this shop. There is a limit to my patience if none to others' lack of judgment; and isn't it very unchristian to be engaged in such idle conversation, and unworthy a man to talk so freely of other people, and of a most worthy young woman at that ? Do confine thyself to thy work and to what we spoke of. I will gladly buy thy interest, for I feel that we can thrive better if more widely planted." "I did not know thee was dissatisfied. Thee has said nothing like this until now ; and why, as I have been taught my trade, should I not buy thee out ?" asked William, and he looked very uncomfortable as he spoke, for it was a dangerous question, as he had learned to depend upon his partner when- ever serious matters arose, and feared his own judgment upon most occasions. " I would rather buy than sell," replied John, " and I do not see in what manner it is 57 A COLONIAL WOOING a concern of others. Thee did not consult with thy friends when we entered upon this venture, and why take thy personal affairs to them when it is proposed to withdraw from it ? Has thee no judgment of thy own ?" " But, John, we are prospering now, and if we remain blessed, why, perhaps Ruth " " Hush !" John exclaimed, fiercely ; so fiercely, indeed, that William nearly fell over the anvil, he was so startled. It was a fortu- nate fright, so far as John was concerned, for William said, meekly, " If thee insists, I suppose I must." "There is no insistence and no 'must' about it. I will buy thy interest, if thee will cheerfully and of thy own accord part with it ; but if thee feels forced or over-persuaded, then I will not." " But if thee is so desirous in the matter, what better can I do *?" asked William, with endless trouble pictured in his countenance. " That is for thee to judge," replied John. Before another word was spoken a shadow crossed the floor of the shop and John, look- ing up, saw the outline of Matthew Watson's 58 A COLONIAL WOOING head and shoulders near the little window, which was open. Why he was there he could not tell. There was no apparent reason. Had he been listening to the con- versation? He was about to call through the window, then checked himself, and with nothing further being said about the dissolu- tion of partnership, John and William worked steadily upon the irons of Stacy's cart-wheel. 59 Chapter V. A Worse Fate threatened. THE women of the Crosswicks Valley had little to entertain them beyond the affairs of the meeting and of their own homes. Visit- ing, in anything approaching a formal way, was not common. The houses generally were far apart and the roads and by-paths too rough, in many places, to make walking a pleasure, or more than practicable upon urgent occasion. Horses could not always be spared that women might ride. The long established custom, however, of attending meeting on First and Fifth days gave excel- lent opportunity for gossipy conversation, both before and after the services were over, and these were never neglected. How much could the old oak in the Crosswicks meeting- yard tell if there was a tongue in that tree ! Its enormous branches overspreading a wide grass-plot have shaded many a fair damsel A COLONIAL WOOING and gentle swain who lingered long after their prosy parents considered time enough had elapsed wherein to exchange common- places. "Is thee not keeping Joseph too long*?" once called out an impatient father, as his daughter showed no disposition to bring her conversation to a close. " I hope thee will never think that of me," she whispered to Joseph, with a winsome smile, and then the demure little Quakeress hurried to her father's carriage and gravely discussed with her mother the sermon they had heard, as though she were the head of a family instead of the youngest child. While youth remained there was always enough worldliness and sweet, harmless de- ception to hold back the austerities of the elders. No positive wickedness, but mis- chief and an assertion of the natural man that no follower of George Fox ever es- caped, although in later years every one strove to forget it and cautioned their children against " the wiles of the adversary." Strange delusion, that of such intense mortification 61 A COLONIAL WOOING of the flesh. But while the worthy elders did their best by precept and example to rob the young of many of life's pleasures, they could not make existence an altogether colorless, songless pilgrimage. Nature was never set aside by a sermon, and the joys of existence denied to the eye and ear were compensated for, not occasionally, but daily, by these same elders in gluttonous feasting, to the point of clogging the intellect ; a cus- tom coeval with the rise of their faith. To be sure, Aunt Lydia Blaylock said even more than this, but what led to her being turned out of meeting was the remark, " The cer- tainty of a good dinner nerves them to the infliction of a long sermon." The young Friends that subscribed to their parents' views frequently made many a men- tal reservation, resolving to question more closely for themselves when of maturer years; but when these came, life had so many added responsibilities, it too often hap- pened that an indifferent acquiescence to the forms of the society resulted. But there was another and possibly less doleful aspect of 62 A COLONIAL WOOING this stern religion among the young. Often has it happened that, when two or three have chanced together, freedom from care and from the restraint of a parent's presence has moved their sober steps to a quicker mo- tion ; and while no one would be malicious enough to say that they were dancing, it was, in sober truth, a dangerously near approach thereto. The spirit was indeed willing, but their fear was overpowering. How nearly we may approach the worldly and yet be safe has been the tenor of many a long discussion when this topic was ventured upon ; and how can a ribbon jeopardize the soul been a problem that by night and day has vexed the young mind to a degree of desperation far more destructive of spiritual peace than a bit of color to relieve the monotony of an ill- contrived, uncomfortable gown. All this in its various phases had passed through Ruth Davenport's mind, and, having the blood of her father's people in her veins, she was brave enough to speak her thoughts and to express dissatisfaction with an evasive answer; and when, after a long night's re- 63 A COLONIAL WOOING cuperative rest, she felt ready to meet the world on its own terms, it was with no spirit of meekness that she saw the long array of sedate Friends who had gathered under her mother's roof to congratulate them both and administer to their spiritual needs. With some show of grace Ruth took the well- meant sermon on gratitude for life saved, and would have been happy had this one woman who first spoke been the spokeswoman of the company. Not so ; each old woman was confident she would be moved to speak, and in anticipation of the opportunity had com- posed a sermon ; but Ruth had no patience left when the third worthy, growing dolo- rously poetical, was moved to say, " To think our young friend might have been drowned, and her little body never found " " Mother, mother !" she exclaimed, " do make the Friends go away or I'll go mad !" And she rushed from the room, to the min- gled surprise, consternation, and regret of those present. It was some moments before she would consent to return, and when she did, her defiant looks put at once an end to all 6 4 A COLONIAL WOOING attempts at further preaching. Things took a rather more cheerful and certainly a far more practical turn ; for not an old woman among them but was sure that the accident would end in a fever, did not Ruth's strange manner plainly point that way ? and so had brought an abundance of their remedies. What a display was there upon the kitchen table ! Every herb that ever grew in West Jersey was generously represented; and if every considerate Friend was to be duly con- sidered, there was no escaping a watery death after all. As Ruth said to her mother, when the last visitor had departed, " I do not know but I had rather choke in Crosswicks Creek than be drowned in a deluge of herb tea. The taste wouldn't be so bad." Ruth's mother gently laughed, and while the smile yet played upon her patient mouth Matthew Watson entered with a frown and contracted brows that showed trouble was brewing. Ruth noticed it, and in a moment felt that she was the cause of her step-father's ill-humor, if such it proved to be. " Just see here, father, what the neighbors 5 65 A COLONIAL WOOING have brought in," pointing to the herbs in bundles lying upon the table ; " if thee gets short of hay, thee '11 know where to come." " I would prefer to find thee less given to levity when I come in. The Friends have said thee has been quite unmoved by their admonitions and prayers and so given of- fence that reflects upon me. I am sorry thee is not led to be inwardly as well as out- wardly a Friend." " What, mother,, is thy word as to the meeting forced upon us ; had I not cause to break up what even thee thought an unwise assembling*?" asked Ruth, quite indifferent to what her step-father had said, and plainly showing what she felt. " Ruth, I did not say so ; the Friends were very kind," replied her mother, frightened lest she should also be scolded by her hus- band. " I know thee did not say so, but that was in thy thoughts, and thee smiled when I talked of the oceans of herb tea." And then, after saying this to her mother, Ruth turned about, and with perfect fearlessness in her 66 A COLONIAL WOOING eyes and abundant, ill-concealed scorn in her lips, said, in a very different voice, "No, father, I am not a Friend in the sense thee advocates, and never can be. Thee does not remember that I am a Davenport and not a Watson, and among them only my father was a Friend, and not, I hope, of such an un- bending type as so many of those that make up the Crosswicks meeting." " Ruth, Ruth !" faintly spoke her mother. " Thee is an unruly, rebellious child, that brings a scandal upon us," remarked Matthew Watson, and he turned to leave the room. "Rebellious*? Does thee not recall the fact that I did not come to America of my own accord? Does thee not know that when I have coaxed mother to tell me of my cousins in Yorkshire, that it has made me long to go to them, until I thought that that meant leaving mother, and then I was content again ; and when thee took mother from her home, thee knew that I had also to come, or thy words would have prevailed nothing ; and when since then have I been a source of dis- comfort to thee ? It is as easy to talk with- 67 A COLONIAL WOOING out forethought at home as at meeting, and thy one word 'rebellious' is as little called for as the sermon on 4 levity' by Friend Lam- bert, who has so frequently to be counselled by the Friends to be less worldly in his de- meanor. If mother is willing, and the way is provided, I will go back to Yorkshire. I hope my cousins will take me in." " But thee does not know that they would. The way to a passage might be found." And Matthew put his hand upon the door-latch. " Matthew, Ruth shall never leave me will- ingly," her mother said, in a tone that was startling to both husband and daughter, a tone so full of meaning that it ended the conversation. 68 Chapter VI. A Letter from England. THE good ship " Bristol," William Smith, Commander, that had made many voyages from English ports to Philadelphia, sighted the capes and slowly worked her way up the broad bay, and after many a trying hour, held by baffling winds and perverse currents, she at last cast anchor in front of the thriving village founded by Penn. Her voyage of nearly forty days had been uneventful, and it was with a feeling of relief that the passengers and crew again found themselves on shore. Those who were new-comers found much to attract their attention, and many were the in- quiries made as to the whereabouts of the friends who had preceded them and by glow- ing accounts of the wonderful country had induced them to follow. The captain had his packet of letters to distribute, some to the thrifty merchants of the little town, and 69 A COLONIAL WOOING others to be sent to the back-country settle- ments. One such communication, larger than the ordinary folded sheet, and impres- sively sealed with an abundance of red wax, bore this direction : Matthew Watson, in Chesterfield, Co. Burlington, Province of West New Jarsie. After some trouble safe conveyance was found for this official-look- ing document, and on the day following the arrival of the " Bristol" a stout shallop spread its dingy sail, and at sunrise, taking advantage of both wind and tide, started up the river, bound for Crosswicks Creek. The outlook then was favorable for a quick trip, but before noon the wind had died away, and when the tide turned there was nothing to do but to cast anchor and wait. The crew of four men were not troubled at this turn of affairs. Their business was to ply between the two points mentioned, and the world was not then in such haste that letters or merchandise lost significance or value if received a day or a week later than was possible, but never probable. This early November day, rich with a golden haze that 70 A COLONIAL WOOING brought all beauty better into view, was idly spent on board, and after the commonplaces of wondering when they could proceed had been passed, each man took himself unto himself and wondered why more of his people did not flock hither to this land of endless promise. The captain was for a while other- wise engaged. After looking at the super- scriptions on the letters he had had placed in his charge and wondering whether they con- tained good news or ill, he took a small book from his pocket, and summing up the probable gains of the year, said to himself, " If the season ends as well as it began, I shall have enough to carry out my plans and will make a change. I wonder if I could sell my boat to any one in Chesterfield. I will talk to John Bishop when we anchor at the ferry." The ferry was not reached until late the next day, and then, when the boat was seen coming slowly up the creek, many of those who lived near came down to the landing, out of idle curiosity, or for such goods as they were expecting, or to receive possibly a 71 A COLONIAL WOOING letter from "home," for by this endearing term nearly every one still spoke of England. Matthew Watson had, among the first, re- ceived his well-sealed letter, which he carried exposed to the gaze of the by-standers, with a conscious air, until he reached his house. " What is it ?" asked his wife, as he entered the room where she was sitting, facing the cheerful fire upon the hearth. " A letter." " From friends in Philadelphia *?" " From England."' And then adjusting his full-moon glasses, scanning every seal, scratch, and pen-mark upon the outside, proceeded slowly to open and read the letter. It was a long communication, and before he had finished reading he laid it down, and, remov- ing his spectacles, said, " Ruth." "Ruth has gone to Neighbor Pearson's, dear ; what is it ?" " I wish she would remain more with her own people and not visit Neighbor Pearson so frequently. She has been left an estate." " Left an estate ! Why, Matthew, what does thee mean *?" asked his wife, rising from 72 A COLONIAL WOOING her chair and walking to where her husband was standing by the window. " Her uncle Timothy has left her money and personal effects of value provided she shall return to England and make her home with her father's people. If she declines, the property goes to her cousins. What does thee think ; is it well that she returns *?" " This is too suddenly placed before us to speak advisedly, and Ruth must be consulted. It is her future that is concerned, and she is old enough to be her own counsellor in such a matter ; but the thought of her leaving me is very grievous. I do wish she would return." And Anne Watson, more troubled than she wished to admit, looked earnestly over the fields towards the ferry, to see if her daughter was coming. There was then no one in sight, but a moment later there came into view from behind the rhododendron hedge Ruth and John Bishop, in earnest conversation. " She is coming now !" exclaimed one of the boys ; and opening the door, he called, "Sister Ruth, there's a letter for you from 73 A COLONIAL WOOING England with lots of money in it, and you've got to go 'way to get it and " But the boy's father checked the child's startling announce- ment by a sudden pull at his collar that sent him trotting backward across the kitchen floor. " What does brother mean *?" Ruth asked, with a thoroughly puzzled look upon her flushed face, for her conversation with John Bishop had evidently been of an exciting character. "There is a letter from England that is of much moment, particularly to thyself, and we will consider its contents at the proper time," replied her step-father, with a glance at John Bishop, which was not lost upon him or upon Ruth. " Farewell, Ruth," John remarked, scarcely noticing the others who had gathered about her, and was about to turn away when Ruth said, " Stay, John ; mother may wish to say how grateful she feels, and this is thy first visit since that unlucky day." There was a play upon John's features 74 A COLONIAL WOOING that strongly suggested the idea he considered it quite the opposite, as he again faced the whole Watson family on their porch, and shook hands with Ruth's mother, who had come forward and said, " Truly, John, I do not know how to thank thee ; thee must read my heart." " Heart-reading is often a difficult task," John replied, and his eyes wandered towards Ruth, who was anxious that the interview should end, for she was very curious to know how that letter from England concerned her. Holding out her hand with an air that made her step-father frown and stare, she said, " Good-by, John ; I am obliged to thee for seeing me across the ferry." And he, taking the hint, bade the assembled family farewell and turned towards his shop. " Is it possible thee requires John's assist- ance to cross the ferry, Ruth *? Could thee not take one of the boys with thee, if thee must go so frequently to Robert Pearson's *?" asked Matthew, with a tone that had more suggestiveness than the mere words. " John offered to come, seeing I was alone, 75 A COLONIAL WOOING as I passed the shop, and said he wished to speak with me. Besides, I had not seen him since the other day, and I had something to say to him ; and why," Ruth's voice ringing with a trace of anger that meant defiance, as Matthew well knew, " should I not go to Neighbor Pearson's? Is not Robert cousin or something of mother's? When they seem not to want me I will stay away." "Ruth, Ruth," gently spoke her mother, " thee forgets." " No, mother, I fprget nothing ; it's a pity I didn't ; but what is this wonderful letter all about? Was it sent to me, or mother, or who ?" And Ruth showed by her rapid speak- ing that she was, if not quite a woman grown, so near it that she recognized the difference between it and childhood. Then kissing her mother, she said again, " Do tell me about this letter." " If thee will compose thyself, Ruth," her step-father replied, " I will tell thee about it. It is from Revell Stacy, and he is authorized to inform thee, as he does through me, that thy uncle Timothy Davenport has left thee 76 A COLONIAL WOOING property sufficient for thy maintenance, if thee returns to England, but it goes to thy cousins if thee declines to accept the con- ditions. What does thee think *?" "Think?" said Ruth, "think about it?" And while speaking she walked from front of the fire to the middle of the room, and stand- ing on tiptoe, first on one foot and then on the other, as if about to begin a dance for their amusement, and then actually sang in her parent's presence, keeping time with her body, " Money, money, Bread and honey, Dresses new and dresses gay; Lovers many, Cares not any " then stopping as suddenly as she began, dropped on her knees at her mother's feet and, looking the astonished woman directly in the face, added, " Mother, must I go away ?" " I am astonished !" exclaimed Matthew Watson, " singing and dancing in my house. Anne, is thy daughter ill ?" 77 A COLONIAL WOOING "No, father," exclaimed Ruth, standing up before him and giving him one of those steady, fearless looks that made him lose con- fidence in himself, " no, I am not ill, but I have had too much to happen in one day perhaps. This is indeed sudden ; but as to leaving mother, no, not for any fortune in England or all the fortunes in all England, and thee can send word to Revell Stacy as soon as thee chooses." "Do not be rash, dear," Ruth's mother almost whispered ; "'thee must think it over." "Very well, then, I'll think it over and ask Cousin Robert what he thinks," said Ruth, quietly. Her suggestion to refer it to Robert Pear- son made her step-father look very black, and he closed the lid of his desk with a startling slam. Chapter VII. The Sale of the Shallop. WINTER was fast approaching, but while the dreamy days of the Indian summer had come and gone, there was still a pleasant warmth at noon-tide, and wherever the sun- shine found entrance among the old trees along the creek's north shore, one had little thought, while wandering there, of the deep and dreary snows that would so soon cover every winsome feature of the valley. Making some flimsy excuse, the shallowness of which was still too deep for his partner to fathom, John Bishop laid down his tools a little before noon, and saying he might not be back quite as promptly as usual, passed out of the shop. Instead of going towards his home, he walked in the opposite direction, and as he passed a neighbor's cottage, whistled to the dog, that was only too glad to follow. There was much passing in John's mind, as his counte- 79 A COLONIAL WOOING nance plainly showed, and while he felt he must have some one to talk to, there was but one to whom he could talk, and she was not accessible ; so he whistled for the dog, and petted him extravagantly when he came bounding up to him. Man and dog made there, as they stood beneath the almost leaf- less trees, a pretty picture. John's brown hair, dark skin, and keen gray eyes, that flashed at times beneath the straight brows that shaded them, were now lighted by the mellow light of a late November'day, one of those dreamy days when a man of brains will indulge in a contemplative stroll and be the better for it. There is a hazy, perhaps even an indistinct out- look, but the light is the better for this when we want to conjure up pictures and people and recall loved scenes that linger in the memory ; and John, to-day, was in a retrospective mood. He desired to liv'c over again some recent events and to talk about them, but not to the trees or the uncertain birds or to himself. His neighbor's dog would answer by the gleam of intelligence in its nutty brown eyes, and then John could frame such replies as 80 A COLONIAL WOOING he knew, or hoped, she would make. What a strange compound is a man in love ! He has figured in books for many a century, but who has depicted him as he really is ? John was no less himself because of a new feeling ; other traits were not forced to the background to make room for this new-comer ; but could not all the world see that all else had to stand aside, just a little 1 ? Even he thought this might be true, and he would that the world were blind. He was only sure of his own feelings, and in that blessed state of hopeful- ness as to Ruth that enabled him to think whatsoever best pleased him at the moment ; but he also knew the storm that would break over his head if Matthew Watson knew positively he was seriously inclined. " What will come of all this, doggie *? Come, now : two pats of your tail on the dead leaves for * good' and three for ' no good ;' " but the dog stood up when spoken to, and wagged his tail so rapidly, John could not count. " Well, what does that mean ? Is everybody opposed to me, and this means brushing me away. Come, doggie, speak out." And the 6 81 A COLONIAL WOOING dog, moved by John's earnestness, gave a low, quick bark. " That is as much like ' yes' as 4 no,' so I'll have to hunt up some witch of the woods to tell me my fortune. Come along !" And with the dog running ahead and sniffing at every tree where a squirrel or opossum might be hiding, John walked on and on, following the winding bluff that overlooked the meadows and creek until he came to the three big beeches where the sin- gle Indian family of ,the immediate neighbor- hood, an old basket-maker and his squaw, had their wigwam. There was no one about, and John sat at the foot of the largest of the three great trees, and looked out over the meadows and beyond them to the river. A boat with hoisted sail was just entering the creek, and another, heading for Philadelphia, was also well in view. " How this wilderness is changing !" remarked John to himself, as he looked about. " Every month brings new- comers, and they do not all remain in the settlements, but keep pushing farther and farther out into the back country. There is every reason to be hopeful ; and what if I 82 A COLONIAL WOOING have so little I can call my own, have I not strength enough in these arms to earn more than my own living? They were strong enough on one occasion, and I think have been stronger. Come, doggie, old fellow, it's time we were going, or William will be sounding an alarm, thinking I am lost." And John Bishop laughed in a cheery way as he retraced his steps ; and far sooner than he had made the journey from his shop to the three beeches he was back, and never knew that he had missed his dinner and kept the folks waiting and wondering. " They have been asking after thee, John," William announced as soon as he entered the shop ; " thee has not been to thy dinner." " Oh, I nibbled a beech-nut and tried to solve a problem and didn't," replied John, cheerfully. " But who has been here ? Thee seems to have had company, from the placing of these broken chairs, which were hardly safe to offer heavy guests." " Martin Nutt and Matthew Watson have been here. Martin called to see thee about 83 A COLONIAL WOOING his boat, the one that plies between here and Philadelphia. He wishes to sell it, and Neighbor Watson has considered the matter and offers to join me in its purchase, and so, if thee still chooses, I will sell my interest in this venture. Thee can readily find a partner or helper, I think. But, John, has thee the money to buy my share *?" " If I had not," John replied, with a trace of anger in his tone and a contraction of the brows full of meaning, " if I had not, I should not have made the suggestion. But why should I not buy Martin's boat, and let thee keep the shop *? I can sail a boat, and thee cannot, and it was Martin's errand to see me, I think thee said." " It was ; but he happened to speak of the matter to Neighbor Watson, and he thought I had better buy it ; and then thee knows I have forty " " Forty fiddle-sticks ! William, I sometimes think thee is almost a dunce, and I'm so tired of hearing of thy forty pounds that I have wanted to have the shop here all to myself. Do follow Neighbor Watson's advice and 8 4 A COLONIAL WOOING buy the boat, and have Matthew join thee. But why does Martin Nutt wish to sell *?" " He is going to Philadelphia to open a ship chandlery and not follow the water any longer. He thinks he has earned the right to be a merchant and have an office, so he said, and Neighbor Watson agreed ; and, John, when can thee pay me for my share in this venture *?" "Just as soon as we can get William Emley to draw up the necessary paper and thee signs it the money will be in thy hands," John replied, with a glow of amuse- ment that lit his whole countenance and showed what a handsome man he was. " But I did not know," remarked his part- ner, astonished at John's promptness in the matter, and not a little distrustful of the course he was pursuing, " I did not know that thee had so much in hand ; thy capital, I thought " " Was the ten pounds I put with thy forty. Well, William, I am not supposed to be responsible for thy way of thinking. Does thee not remember that when we started in 85 A COLONIAL WOOING business here that thee wondered where I got the ten, and supposed that I borrowed them from Robert Pearson? And what of the profits of the venture since that day"? Does thee suppose I spend a penny every time I make one ? Perhaps thee does ; but I don't see how it is to be done, with no shops nearer than Burlington. But thy question calls for an answer, perhaps. There is a little oaken box with iron clasps and a lock somewhere, and there's forty pounds and to spare in it, good, honest, silver money that won't burn thy palms when it touches them." " I am really sorry to leave thee," remarked William, with a vain effort to think over satisfactorily what John had just told him ; " but tell me why, if thee had the money, thy share and mine of the venture, when we started here, were not the same. I thought thee had but ten pounds." " Thee thought so, but I did not tell thee so. I only agreed to put in ten pounds against thy forty, for I thought my knowledge of the trade and skill in work of certain kinds was worth the difference, and so did thy friend, 86 A COLONIAL WOOING Neighbor Watson, if thee will but remem- ber." " It must be all proper, I do not doubt, but forty pounds " " Well, William, thee has now a chance to receive back thy money, and what has been thy share of the profits of the venture has proved an excellent interest. But thy capital as now invested is worth something more than the original sum now, and I will make a proper agreement with thee when we meet at William Emley's," John replied, assuringly, and his timid partner felt much more as if every penny due him was to be really paid back, but a flood of conflicting impressions so confused the poor fellow he could find nothing to say. He had been in safe hands while with John, and to some extent knew his business, but what of this new venture with all the glittering generalities that Mat- thew Watson hung about it? He could not feel so sure. William's brain was of one- idea capacity, and now he was forced to battle with a dozen ; no wonder he was miserably bewildered. 87 A COLONIAL WOOING After a lengthy pause, painful alike to both men, John remarked, " The season will soon be over for thy new trade, what has thee in mind to do while the river is closed ?" 44 1 had not thought of that, and Neighbor Watson did not mention the matter when he and Martin were here," replied William ; and he looked greatly distressed, and his fears of a long unoccupied winter were not allayed when John, with a slightly malicious gleam in his eyes, suggested that perhaps he " could board for the dull season with his new part- ner." The poor man was more worried than ever. To lose forty pounds of flesh would have given him no particular concern, but to risk, as he might be doing, as many pounds ster- ling ; that was terrible. "As thee has never consulted with me about thy affairs, William, it is not my prov- ince to be thy adviser now ; but I never knew thee was accustomed to sail a boat, even small river craft, and the winds on the river are some- times full of danger, as we have cause to know ; and has thee had any teaching in the A COLONIAL WOOING matter of general trading ? Thee was appren- ticed a smith, and can do some things in thy line very well, and I hope to see thee success- fully sail the boat that Martin Nutt wishes to sell. Thee knows, of course, that Neighbor Watson cannot help thee in these matters ; thee must do all the work." " But I never even tried to sail a boat ; we must have that done by some one who knows how," replied William, becoming more and more thoroughly frightened at the disaster he fancied, with some reason, threatening him. " Then what will thee do *? Sit on the wharf at Philadelphia, while Matthew waits at the ferry *?" And John laughed heartily at the picture he drew. " Thy remarks are unkind, John. Friend Watson would not mislead me," said William, much depressed by his partner's chaffing. " I would not have thee think that I thought so," replied John ; " but really it is thy affair, not mine, and first let us attend to our joint concern. We will send word to William Emley to-morrow and settle this matter of ending our partnership. Then thee 8 9 can have the ready money, so far as it will go, to buy the boat." " I will go myself to Friend Emley's and make an appointment," said William, " as I cannot lift a hammer or move the bellows now after so much that has worked upon me." And he took up his hat and coat and went out. " Poor William," remarked John to him- self; " but really it is better that I should be alone." Chapter VIII. The New Partnership. THE winter that seemed so distant to Wil- liam Blake, when the bargain was closed and he and Matthew Watson were the vessel's owners, had set in earlier than usual. The river was filled with floating ice, and it was no longer safe to trust so small a boat as the "Fish-hawk" to the huge masses that, borne by the currents, would soon wear away her sides if exposed to them. The boat must be put in winter quarters, be safely harbored in some little cove on the south bank of the creek ; of course, within sight of the Watson house. As his late partner predicted, William Blake was also in winter quarters, with but a single occupation, that of paying his board weekly, and very deep in despair, too, because with no means of earning the requisite number of shillings. Perhaps he did not mean it as unkind, but Matthew Watson had assured 91 A COLONIAL WOOING him that the venture was an excellent one ; his share of the profits would certainly enable him to pay his board every winter, and that would be a source of anxiety removed, for which he should be thankful. "Why did thee let me buy the boat*?" William often asked of John, for during the long winter days he found the shop a more pleasant place to spend his idle time than at Neighbor Watson's, where business continu- ally called him, as his partner was full of projects that forever called for more of Wil- liam's money as an offset to the "advantages" Matthew cunningly set forth. " I believe thee could have taken better care of my property than I have done, and thee never even advised me," William often said when they were alone. " Thee never asked my advice, and I surely could not be expected to intrude it upon thee," John would reply ; and then the poor man, who believed himself to have been vic- timized, would express his fears of his part- ner's designs, and to all this was added a sorrow of no mean measure, that Ruth would 92 A COLONIAL WOOING not favor him with even the briefest conversa- tion when they happened to meet. He had made a great blunder, and would he, John, take him back, if he could prevail upon his present partner to buy his share of the boat and so set him free ? John would not promise, and endeavored to allay his fears, talking extravagantly of the increased trade of the coming season, and how two boats would be needed instead of one. On all subjects John spoke freely, but always without the slightest reference to Ruth. William Blake noticed this in time, and began talking so freely about her that John could no longer escape making a reply. He en- deavored first to put a check upon William's volubility, but this was ineffectual. There was, however, one consolation, she was never referred to when others were present. Day after day passed, and finally William more earnestly than ever sought John's opinion. " Thee is well acquainted with Ruth, John, and can tell me, if thee will, why it is she turns from me so. I have always treated her well, and yet she seems very unwilling to 93 A COLONIAL WOOING listen to me." John would bite his under lip and look out of the shop window, and when his companion had done speaking, force him- self to smile and bid the poor fool remember about faint hearts and fair ladies. This was, of course, wholly unsatisfactory, indeed in- comprehensible to him, and he would seek for something more definite, as though John was the ruler of Ruth's destinies. " Neighbor Watson approves of my suit, I think," William had recently remarked, in the course of a long account of his troubles, and at this assertion John had exclaimed, Oh ! so suddenly that William was startled and would have asked endless questions, but his one time partner positively refused to continue the conversation, and forbade the subject being again broached in such a manner that even William could understand, and was hence- forth silent on that point. John Bishop from that morning worked more steadily than before. Never for a moment did his tools lie unused upon the bench or the fire get low. He had hundreds of nails and spikes to make, for there were 94 A COLONIAL WOOING two houses to be built in the coming season, and, too, for one of them he was to furnish the crane for the kitchen fireplace, and not a farmer for miles around but had ploughs to be repaired, and many a farmer's wife had sought his skill in fashioning some simple piece of furniture. From morning till night he was busy, and bargained with two good workmen, who were now as steadily occupied as himself. Everywhere was evidence of un- usual thrift. William, or any other idler, if he came, soon found himself in the way, and left wondering what had changed John so. The fact is his work had gotten ahead of him, but now he was far ahead of his work. There were no delays now, no broken promises, and in all the dust and smoke John saw Ruth as we often see a bright streak of rosy light piercing a storm-cloud, and the ring of the hammer on the anvil, which meant but thrift to casual ears, was the cheery voice of Ruth, as, wandering by the hedge or strolling over the fields for wild flowers, she sang those simple songs that once heard he could not forget and often found himself humming when alone. 95 A COLONIAL WOOING After all, it was not strange that observing people should continually associate John and Ruth in their minds, although so very seldom were they seen together. An aged Friend that day had expressed surprise when she overheard John humming a lively air to him- self. " John, I am shocked at thy increasing worldliness. Has thee no greater concern than spending thy time with idle music and the world's follies'?" "Did not David play upon a harp and sing psalms *? There was and is nothing par- ticularly worldly about my thoughts at this time. I was thinking of a friend and felt particularly happy, and silence does not suit my heart, which at times must speak out, in what thee called music, but which I take it was hardly that." " When concerned with the weighty words of Friends who have ministered unto us, would not silence be more fitting*?" John laughed merrily, to the questioner's astonishment. He was not thinking of a Friend of that sort. "I confess, Neighbor Bunting, that I was thinking of one among 9 6 A COLONIAL WOOING us that I have not seen very lately, but she is not a minister." " Not Ruth Davenport, John !" " Yes, of Ruth." " John, let me assure thee that thee is greatly on my mind. Ruth is a sore trial to her parents, as thee must know, and I am sad to think of her unless she turns from her worldly ways. Thee is not as constant at meeting as we wish, and it has been long upon my mind to speak to thee. Does Ruth prevent thy coming." John Bishop came very near getting angry, but Friend Bunting was very aged, and he could only submit to her questioning with apparent excellent grace. Of course it was her right, as an elder, to call his attention to matters concerning the meeting and his rela- tion thereto, but at the same time he did wish she was a man, that he might speak what he really thought. Was it to be his lot to preach a new phase of Christianity*? he sometimes asked himself. Well, with Ruth for a helpmeet it would not be so great a hardship as to be forever under the fire of 7 97 A COLONIAL WOOING criticising neighbors, who sometimes over- stepped the mark and encroached upon private concerns. He was getting pretty tired of the whole matter. "No," he replied, a little curtly, "not Ruth, but my shop. I cannot keep my customers waiting, and must often be absent on Fifth days." " No occupation would require thy absence from appointed meetings unless thee gave heed to worldly inclination." And with this parting admonition, John was left to his own reflections. As he walked to his shop, a gorgeous red-bird crossed his path and whistled merrily when perched in a cedar hard by. " What a gay worldling, and whistling too !" ex- claimed John. " How I wish Ruth could see and hear this bird !" And he looked in the direction of her home, wondering what she might then be doing. Friend Bunting had made no very deep impression. While John had been thus engaged, William Blake was on the other side of the creek, and had been engaged in two very mo- 9 8 A COLONIAL WOOING mentous conversations. An unusual amount of bravery had found a lodgement in his breast, and, believing his investment was, if not in doubt, in a bewildering entanglement of claims that his partner had woven about it, he had actually demanded in plain terms why it was that he, William Blake, was paying for everything and yet nothing appeared to be his. It was the most impor- tant mental problem he had ever formulated, and his own words staggered him as he pro- nounced them, one at a time, as if repeating the speech of another. " Thy words, Neigh- bor Watson, are all fair sounding, but always wind up with the suggestion that I put my hand in my pocket, and never we put our hands in." William Blake that day made the discovery, the only one he ever made, that he was a fool, and could not remedy the trouble. Matthew Watson was astonished, and then, feeling sure of his position, acted the part of an indignant man. Of course, he could withdraw if dissatisfied, but hardly expect to do so without a loss. He might go to Phila- 99 A COLONIAL WOOING delphia or return to England, or remain, that he could decide for himself; or he might find some one who would buy him out, but it must be a person acceptable to him, as he did not wish to be associated with those who were not his co-religionists. Matthew talked in this indifferent, if not heartless way, and put his partner in a steadily more depressing frame of mind, and at last, as usual, overdid the matter. William said that he should ask for a committee investigation, though he really had no grounds for this, for he had not been defrauded, as the world looks upon busi- ness transactions, but misled ; but the very idea of being closely questioned so frightened Matthew that he did explain and promise to put in writing and satisfy William's friends, and so drove the shadows from the deluded man's brows and put him more at ease ; and then Matthew urged him home to dine with him, and as they passed up the lane from the landing to the house, he made William feel as if he was a prosperous ship-owner, and the two shillings he jingled in his pocket were a dozen golden pounds. A COLONIAL WOOING William entered the house with a glad heart, and, would wonders never cease, Ruth was as beaming as her step-father had been. For once he was really happy, because full of hope, and, seeking an opportunity, he called Ruth to one side, and in a low tone that was lost on all other ears he laid his for- tune at her feet, and would gladly have put himself there also, did Friends' discipline permit of such a proceeding. Ruth was too astonished to make any reply. This was the first intimation she had had that this rattle-brained youth had ever given her a second thought. What could it mean *? Was it the property in England, of which he had, of course, heard, and sup- posed she would go to claim ? A hundred wild ideas rushed through her mind, and, for- getting where she was or who were present, she turned and ran out of doors, down the winding lane, and on and on until out of breath, and then, turning about, ran back again, but not to where she had left William standing in blank amazement, but by him to her mother, and, catching her by the hands, IOI A COLONIAL WOOING said, " Mother, is the world coming to an end, as one of our ministers is always pre- dicting *? William Blake wants me to marry him." William Blake looked very much as if he would like to escape if he saw any means of doing so. Ruth's brothers laughed and stared at him. Matthew Watson drummed the toe of one of his heavy boots very distinctly on the bare floor ; and then followed a brief but oppressive silence. Finally her mother spoke, to the relief of the older people present. " Ruth, thee is no longer a child, and should not treat thy friends so strangely. Perhaps thee did not under- stand what William said." "I do not think there was a chance for that. No, William, I cannot marry thee. It is very kind to make the offer. Per- haps" " Well, Ruth, well !" exclaimed William, with strong hopes rilling his breast again. "Perhaps I may go to England in the spring." 102 Chapter IX. The Reply to the Letter. SEVERAL weeks had passed since the arrival of Revell Stacy's letter with its important message to Ruth, but as a reasonable time had been granted for a decision in so impor- tant a matter, a final decision had not been reached, and the serious discussion of the sub- ject from time to time postponed, although Matthew Watson was anxious to send a reply, and had improved every opportunity to impress both upon Ruth and her mother the desirability of the former accepting the property on the terms offered by her uncle Timothy, and " remember, Ruth, Revell Stacy does not say that thee can never return to the province." " Thee has never read me the full text of his letter, and I should be allowed to judge of it by hearing or seeing it," Ruth replied. Matthew's face flushed as he heard these insinuating words, and he looked steadily at 103 A COLONIAL WOOING the blazing fire on the hearth, and then, as a reason for still looking anywhere than at Ruth, knowing her searching eyes were upon him, he poked viciously at the burning sticks and caused a shower of sparks to rush up the wide chimney throat. Not until then could he command himself as thoroughly as he knew was necessary, for Ruth was an an- tagonist, on occasion, that he really feared. She had too frequently divined his thoughts and without apparent interference thwarted his plans. " Is it not most unseemly, and before thy brothers, too, to cast a doubt upon my words and intentions ? I have told thee an estate is at thy command upon conditions, and what more need thee know *? Friend Stacy's letter has other matter that is for my eyes and not thine, and am I not standing in thy father's place *?" he asked, with some show of emotion but with more of vexation. "And perhaps not thinking what would have been my father's thoughts." " Ruth, Ruth !" exclaimed her mother, with a deprecatory tone. 104 A COLONIAL WOOING "Mother dear, with the coming of the spring I shall be eighteen years old, and so expected to speak for myself where I only am concerned, and that is but a short time off. Let me have the privilege now, for the impor- tance of this letter will not admit of more delay. Father has said a decision must be reached, and I agree with him." And then, turning to her step-father, she asked, " Am I to read the letter myself, or is what thee has told me all that I am to know ?" "What I have told thee is all that thee need know, as I have already said to thee." " Then if I err in judgment from ignorance of the truth, the sin will fall upon thee," Ruth replied, with a trace of anger in her voice. " Ruth, Ruth, do have greater concern as to thy words. Father should have thy con- fidence." " Yes, mother, should have," Ruth replied, in a manner that plainly indicated that he had not. What seemed a long silence followed, the family all gazing at the fire, the parents with troubled faces, the boys curious and looking 105 A COLONIAL WOOING first at one and then another of the three who were so intimately concerned with the subject under discussion. Finally, Matthew Watson began moving uneasily in his chair and was about to speak, when Ruth, anticipating him, said, " Mother, will thee not decide for me 1 ? I have said again and again I would not leave thee, and thee has said I should not go against my will, but there has been a cloud of sorrow resting upon thee ever since the hateful letter came. It has made me a cause of discontent and worry, as father's actions show, and I would be led by those who should speak for me as to my duty. As Friend Bunting has said to others of me, " I am with you but not of you,' and if not as strict a Friend at heart as my parents, is that not my misfortune rather than my fault? Why will thee not decide for me, mother *?" asked Ruth, with her voice trembling with emotion. " Had thee given more heed to the solemn words of our meetings," began Matthew Watson, in his sing-song voice that made most people distrustful of the speaker without 1 06 A COLONIAL WOOING clearly knowing why, " thy mind would not be disturbed " but Ruth was in no humor to listen to his cant, and cut it short, saying, " I want mother's decision now, and then I can better listen to whatever thee may have to suggest. Do speak, mother," again im- plored Ruth. " I cannot, indeed, I cannot," her mother replied, still gazing intently at the fire. " Thy mother " again began Matthew Watson. " Father, this conversation must be be- tween mother and myself. We hold a rela- tion to ourselves with which thee has nothing to do, and I cannot help it if thee is pained by what thee calls my perversity. To go to England means to leave my mother, and she shall decide, and would have decided before this if thee had not so persistently interfered. I can only guess thy wishes from thy guarded words, but it is mother who has to judge of this, not thee. She knew my father, and knows his people well ; she can tell me, judge for me. They are world's people, are they not, like the Pearsons'?" 107 A COLONIAL WOOING "They are not Friends, Ruth, and thy father was disinherited because he became one. They would treat thee kindly, I have no doubt, but thee would not likely remain a Friend ; but, Ruth dear, how can I judge in so weighty a matter ? Matthew, can thee not lead us to a proper conclusion *?" asked Ruth's mother, turning her face towards her husband. " Mother," spoke up Ruth, quickly, " I will not have father's judgment; I want thine. Did thee not hear what I have said, or will thee not heed thy o'wn daughter's prayer for guidance ?" Again a long silence followed, and it was well. Calmer thoughts came to each troubled breast, and there was reason to believe that the vexed question would be finally solved. Ruth had changed her position, and now sat on a low stool at her mother's feet, with one arm upon her lap and the other around the neck of her brother, who still sat on the floor unmoved, by the chimney corner, awed by the strange and at times angry discussion he had heard. Seated according to her wishes, and as she had so frequently sat for many 108 A COLONIAL WOOING years, Ruth looked long and lovingly into her mother's face, and then, her eyes brightening and her face that had been drawn and troubled broadening to a sweet smile, she said, " Father, my words were not what they should have been, but my heart was sorely tried ; what, if thee will tell me, is thy wish*?" " I have had much concern," her step-father slowly replied, " upon my mind concerning the letter, and given it attention that its im- portance demands. I have conferred with thy mother and some of our meeting. There is not a unity of thought on the subject, but if thee can find thyself strong enough to remain a Friend, I would advise thy going. Thee is not called upon to change thy faith, and per- haps may be a means of changing others." As the purport of his reply became evi- dent, Ruth's mother slowly bent over her daughter, until her face nearly touched Ruth's floating wealth of golden hair, and when his last word was spoken, she exclaimed " Ruth !" and began sobbing unrestrainedly. At that moment there came a loud knock at the door, and even Ruth's mother, who 109 A COLONIAL WOOING had for long years held her feeling under complete control, although she sat up and with a quick motion brushed away the tears from her eyes, could not conceal all trace of the intense excitement of the past few moments. Ruth made no effort to conceal her feelings. Matthew Watson rose and went to the door. As it opened, Robert Pearson entered the room, and, with a courteous greeting to all, remarked in his cheerful way of the splendid weather then prevailing and his dis- appointment at not seeing him, Matthew, at the meeting about the survey of the new road. Then, seeing that both Ruth and her mother wore most anxious, troubled looks, his whole manner changed, and he asked if any one were ill or had bad news been re- ceived. " Matters of great concern detained me, to my regret," Matthew replied, for he was one who did not wish any public matter to pro- gress without his association with it, and the more prominently, the better he was pleased. He took it as a slight if his opinion was not A COLONIAL WOOING always asked and his judgment requested. Robert Pearson saw that family matters had been under discussion, and he judged of their general character, for he had heard from Ruth all that she knew of the Stacy letter. "Good- ness, Cousin Anne, you look as sober as an owl, and Ruth isn't much of an improvement over you. I'm almost afraid to mention my errand." By this time the traces of grief were pretty well effaced, and Ruth thought, as she saw her mother's effort to greet her cousin's chaffing with a smile, Grief doth quickly come and go ; How small a thing is sorrow ! To-day 'tis only ill we know, But all goes well to-morrow. " I hope I have not called at an unfortunate time and interrupted a family gathering." " No, no, not at all, cousin ; what was thy errand?" asked Ruth, hoping it referred to herself. " It was to ask if Ruth might not return with me. Mrs. Pearson and the girls greatly desire her company, as we have planned a few A COLONIAL WOOING simple games and pleasantries for the young folks. You have no objection, I hope." And Robert turned directly to Ruth's mother as he spoke. Matthew Watson was annoyed beyond measure, but his fear of Ruth, who had finally deferred to his judgment, made him cautious. He waited a moment, and, finding his wife did not reply, said, " I hope, Neighbor Pear- son, that thee has not in contemplation any worldliness to further poison Ruth's mind. Her lightness and want of care for spiritual things is a sore trial to us." Ruth was on her feet in an instant, for she had not wholly risen when Robert entered the room, but a look from him checked her speech. " As I am in thy house, and in their pres- ence," pointing to Ruth and her mother, " it does not become me to inquire too closely into thy meaning. It sounds like rather a serious charge, this of poisoning Ruth's mind, but it is likely one of those high-sounding phrases so common in your people's mouths, that has very little behind it. Do you not 112 A COLONIAL WOOING suppose, though not a Quaker, that I have some care for my honor and that of my own house 1 ? Really, the more I see of your faith, as it is sometimes practised, the less I am drawn to it. What do you say, Ruth, would you like to come, and will my good cousin, your mother, consent?" " If Matthew does not object, I am willing," Anne Watson replied, with a suspicion of doubt in her voice as to how her husband might take her words. Ruth was again about to speak, but felt that her cousin's eye was upon her, and, look- ing up, caught from him a glance suggesting caution if not silence on her part ; but she was too excited not to speak out, and, with fire on her tongue, was about to express her opinion of her step-father, when Robert's pleading look restrained her, and she said, so mildly that Robert laughed, " I will come, gladly; when do they expect me?" " They hoped that you would return with me, so can you not say, ' I will go,' instead of 'I will come"? Then I shall have the pleasure of your company, and we will make 8 113 A COLONIAL WOOING the old oaks ring at the bend in the road and hide behind them when the girls come tearing down to meet us." The two Watson boys stared as if fright- ened as Robert Pearson spoke in his cheery way, and the thought vaguely crossed their young minds, what good times the world's people have, and why is it so wicked? " Father," said Ruth, as she was about to leave the house, " thee may write to Revell Stacy and say that I accept the conditions and will come as soon as I can." She did not look at her mother as she spoke; indeed, she dared not; but after pausing at the door a moment, she returned and kissed her, with- out speaking. 114 Chapter X. Ruth and her Cousin. RUTH'S mother and Robert Pearson were second cousins, and about the same age, but he seemed to every one much younger than he really was. It was not altogether by chance that Matthew Watson had located where he did when he came to America. He had heard from his wife of her cousin Robert's flourishing condition. How with but a mere remnant of a wrecked fortune he had come to West Jersey, and now, in a few years, had become a substantial man of af- fairs. He had preceded the Watsons several years, and, fond of company and partial to his own kin, had been very urgent, when he heard of their arrival at Philadelphia, that they should take up the tract of land that was sepa- rated in part from his own by the creek. He had succeeded in carrying his point, and Mat- A COLONIAL WOOING thew Watson had had no fault to find. Noth- ing had been misrepresented, and in every business relation Robert Pearson had been pre-eminently just and considerate, but soon a strained feeling arose that nothing could over- come. Robert was not a Friend, and had never realized what was the full purport of Quaker principles until he had met Matthew, who unfortunately represented much more than the tenets of George Fox called for. He had found beneath the plain coat and broad- brimmed hat abundant evidences of our common nature. He had found that both Quakers and Churchmen had like weak- nesses, and learned too, to his surprise, that the latter were considered legitimate game of the former. There was an elasticity of conscience occasionally exhibited that at first disgusted and then amused. Matthew could do that which would benefit himself, but could not repeat it for the benefit of another. In short, Robert Pearson looked upon him as a fraud, but said nothing in public ; the public looked upon him as a wonderful man and were never tiled of shouting his praises. 116 A COLONIAL WOOING As in all such cases, the whole truth was never quite laid bare. As Ruth grew to womanhood, Robert had watched her career with great interest and encouraged in every way her friendship with his own daughters, who were younger than she. It was a red-letter day to him when he discovered by mere chance the interest that she had excited in John Bishop's breast ; for Friend though he professed to be, John was a Quaker of a different type, and recent events had made him more and more the friend of Robert. It was the latter who had, while keeping in the background, urged the dissolution of the partnership with William Blake, and since then had aided John in purchasing a small plantation adjoining his own, a hundred acres of upland and meadow that partly laid between the Pearson and Watson tracts. As the day was fine and the walking ex- cellent, Ruth and Robert were in no hurry to reach the Pearson house ; they strolled rather leisurely along ; so deliberately, in fact, that Ruth thought there was a purpose in it, and 117 A COLONIAL WOOING finally said, " What is on thy mind, cousin ? Thy gayety, that made the boys stare when we left the house, has all gone. Has thee repented of thy bargain already to see me to thy house *? I know the way and can go un- attended without risk. There are no drunken Indians lurking in the woods, I suppose." And Ruth looked archly at Robert, who still maintained a sobering silence. "Well, cousin," Ruth again remarked, after they had gone some distance, " if thee doesn't speak soon I snail turn back." " I was thinking, Ruth ; and let me ask," said Robert at last, " was there anything seri- ous going on when I called, or is it none of my business *? I have noticed that your step- father has been very self-occupied of late, much more so than usual, and gives less at- tention to the affairs of the province, to every one's surprise." " Why, don't thee know ? I am offered a fortune if I will go back to England and stay there with my cousins. Uncle Timothy has done this, and I don't know whether I am glad or not. To-day, thee knows, I said I would 118 A COLONIAL WOOING go, but poor mother " And Ruth did not dare go on, her voice rapidly failing her. " I have heard something of it, as has everybody in the township, but nothing very definite, and have been waiting for particulars, without caring to ask any pointed questions. Now, do please tell me all about it, if it is no secret," urged Robert. And she gave him all the details, so far as she knew them. " That's very strange," her cousin remarked when she finished her story. " You should insist upon seeing the letter." " It would be of no use to insist. He may have hidden or burnt it, for all I know." "That is not likely, and others might prevail where you could not," Robert sug- gested. " Then he might blame mother and worry her still more. No, no, don't do that." And Ruth showed she was frightened at the mere suggestion. " Then I would not go," said Robert, im- patiently. " But I have promised now to do so, and 119 A COLONIAL WOOING what else can I do, as he is urgent, and mother " And here again Ruth's voice trembled too much to speak further. " Come, come, Ruth, don't bother about it." And, quickening his steps, Robert looked about him arid said, " I believe it is going to snow." The sky was then overcast with one dull leaden cloud, and by the time they had crossed the creek and were following the winding path through the oak woods on the creek's north shore feathery flakes began to fall. Faster and faster they came, so that the air was filled with them when Ruth and her cousin reached the Pearson house. Robert had not announced their coming, as he had proposed, and, stopping a moment at the gate before they entered the little kitchen door-yard, said, " Ruth, do not speak of this letter from England to the folks here, please, and let me think the matter over for you. There may be something behind it all you know nothing about." " Why, cousin, what do you mean.*?" asked Ruth, with a puzzled look. A COLONIAL WOOING " I cannot explain now, but trust me. I am as much thy friend as thy step-father " What more Robert was about to say will never be known. While he was speaking, a jaunty titmouse clung to a drooping branch of the elm that towered above them and clearly whistled, "Sweet here ! sweet here!" " Take a hint from that little bird, Ruth. Don't you know what it says ? It's 'sweet here,' and I hope you'll find it so. There are the girls now, looking out of the window. Come, let's go in." Ruth quite forgot her cares, doubts, and general conflict of emotions when with the Pearsons. Kindly greeted by the girls' mother and smothered in kisses by the girls them- selves, she made one great effort to swallow the lump that was rising in her throat and succeeded. Everywhere in the house there was sunshine, though now so gloomy out of doors, and she could have kissed the grinning slaves, Rebecca and Hagar, she was so happy. Every reasonable means of enjoyment, even to a few books, had been provided, and the Pearsons were accustomed to discuss every 121 A COLONIAL WOOING political feature of the province, and selected by his agent in town what little current litera- ture drifted to Philadelphia ; for Robert had always found shillings to spare when there was a book to be bought. These volumes were ever an attraction to Ruth, who had been taught to read and write by her mother, but with no other books in the house than those that treated of their religious society. " No Cross, no Crown" had been her spelling- book, and was now in use again as her brother's " reader." Matthew Watson had a mutilated copy of the Bible. It had origi- nally been a portly volume carefully bound in leather, with elaborately tooled edges and corners and with ornate brass clasps. Besides the Old and New Testaments, there had been the order of Common Prayer, the Apocrypha, and the whole Book of Psalms, collected into English metre. All these had been cut out and destroyed, except a few pages of the rhymed version of the Psalms. These Ruth had found and most carefully concealed. To read them was one of her stolen pleasures, and from them she had received her earliest A COLONIAL WOOING impressions of poetry, and soon began making little verses for her own amusement. In later years she had heard at Pearson's portions of Shakespeare read aloud, and when she had ventured to read a little for herself, the world seemed everywhere so full of meaning, except in her step-father's house. Here at Pearson's, too, her education had been advanced and her faculties quickened by the judiciously narrated history of her own times and those troublous ones that preceded it, told by Robert's mother, now a very aged woman with weakened body, but with mind and memory unimpaired. It is true, her mother had made Ruth's life a most pleasant one while she was yet a child, and now the boundless love of the daughter for her mother made Ruth's life far from irk- some while at home, but in spite of it all there was a constant longing for a wider out- look that could not be repressed ; and the failure to discover that wickedness reputed among the "world's people," as all non- Quakers were called, had made her sceptical concerning the wisdom embodied in Fox's 123 A COLONIAL WOOING Journal and Barclay's Apology. " There may be less soberness, mother," Ruth had been heard to say, " but I have not yet heard indiscreet speaking. There is laughter con- tinually, but it is like the songs of the birds to which thee loves to listen. Father is like a sturdy tree that grows in the forest; my young cousins are like the wild roses that grow beneath the windows, and, mother, did not the Lord make them both ?" Ruth's mother scarcely suppressed a faint smile and merry twinkle in her eyes when thus questioned, but her husband's step was heard, and she had but time to reply, " Thee is too young yet, Ruth, to understand these things. Be careful that thy words do not prove a wile of the adversary." " Does thee mean thy cousin Robert is the evil one *?" she whispered, and then, kissing her mother, darted away before her step-father could cast a shadow over them. The storm was raging without, but not an intimation of it crossed the Pearson thresh- old. There was abundant warmth and light in the grand old kitchen, and the walls, to 124 A COLONIAL WOOING the outermost corners of the sitting-room, were aglow, reflecting the forked tongues of flame that leaped from the hickory logs piled upon the andirons. There had been game after game, from sunset until now, an hour after supper, when fortune-telling had been proposed, and Ruth was to personate a gypsy queen. No one could do it better. She knew the whims and fancies of the young folks present, and made all happy by her witty suggestions of each applicant's future. Then, when there was little left to be said, she remarked, "But nobody has told me mine !" " Let me do so," suggested Robert Pear- son ; and, taking his stand near Ruth, said, looking at the palm of her extended hand, " An excellent fortune shall be thine, But not from across the sea. It awaits thee now, if I read the sign, My pretty Quaker fairie." All laughed heartily, except Ruth. Her cousin's conversation before they had entered the house recurred to her, and what could he mean by hinting of the letter now ? This 125 A COLONIAL WOOING sobered her for a moment, and then she, too, laughed, saying, " Thank thee, Cousin Robert." As she spoke, she looked towards the door, for some one was coming in. It was John Bishop. Coming forward, he shook hands with Ruth and said, " I trust Friend Pearson is no false prophet. What is thy view of the matter *? I did not know of thy expectations from across the sea, except a vague rumor, until William Blake told me this afternoon." " What, pray, has William been telling thee, John *?" asked Ruth, not aware that John still held her hand. " That thee is to return to England very soon, and he is to accompany thee. He did not know the latter part of these strange tidings himself until thy brothers told him. It seems they overheard thy parents talking of the matter, and Friend Watson is desirous that William should sell his share of the boat to him, or let him act as his agent, and return to England with thee." This sudden breaking of the news in the Pearson household caused all present to 126 A COLONIAL WOOING gather about Ruth and John, and there was naturally a babel of questioning and expres- sions of disapproval and regret. Ruth stood the ordeal wonderfully well, but John was much chagrined to find that he had unwit- tingly published what was in some measure a secret. But he did not deserve the blame he put upon himself. He had not been cautioned in any way, and then had not Robert referred to it in the fortune-telling? Besides, how was he, still a young man, and desperately in love, to keep wakeful guard forever on his tongue ? He had called this very night to say a word or give a look that Ruth might interpret, for he had seen her pass near his shop that day on her way to Pearson's, and he knew she had not returned. Robert Pearson looked troubled for the time, and then said, rather loudly, to show that he meant it for all, " When we see a great smoke there is likely to be some fire at the base of it, and so with Ruth. An old uncle has left her something, but all tied up in conditions, and so perhaps not worth going after. I for one won't let her go after 127 it, if I can help it, when there's many a stout lad in the province that would only be too glad to lay all he had at her feet." " Cousin, cousin !" cried Ruth, her face red as a rose ; and, putting her hands to her ears, she ran out of the room. The young people ran after her, and Rob- ert, turning to John, touched him upon the arm and said, " Let's go into the kitchen and smoke our pipes. I want to say a word about this matter." And seated there, in comfort- able chairs, Robert told John all that he knew of Ruth's affairs, and added, " I believe it is an ugly business and should be thwarted." Then, after a pause, for John could make no reply, so confusing were his thoughts, Robert said, " Have you spoken to Ruth *?" " About what