The Cottage in the Grove—The Disguise—Back to Health—Impatience—Searching the Box—Antoinette La Clair's Story.
The Cottage in the Grove—The Disguise—Back to Health—Impatience—Searching the Box—Antoinette La Clair's Story.
Very sad and dreary seemed the hours to Antoinette La Clair, as she watched by Little Wolf's bed side. While her loving hand bathed the burning brow, and her soft musical voice soothed the wild ravings of the invalid, she thought much upon the strange loneliness of their situation. Day after day passed by, and no living soul approached thecottage. She often wondered why it's owner came not, and it was a mystery to her, why Bloody Jim had not discovered their retreat.
From the first, she had taken the precaution whenever she appeared outside to disguise herself in the various articles of clothing, which she found strewn about the house, and, as she went to procure water from the spring, which was at some distance from the house, she would assume the air and gait of a logy country boy. Her sun-burnt straw hat with its crown piece flapping about in the wind; great coarse boots slipping hither and thither on her little feet and her other generally loose fitting attire would, but for her absorbing anxiety, have excited rather more than a smile on her usually melancholly countenance.
It was well that the fact of having remained unmolested for nearly three weeks did not lesson her vigilance on one eventful occasion. It was about sun rise; as she was toiling up the eminence with a heavy bucket of water, which an occasional mis-step would sendsplashing over her great awkward boots, she saw a man approaching the spring. It was Ketchum; and, as she recognized him, her breath came quicker and she hurried onward and upward. She had nearly reached the top of the hill when she heard him calling out,
"Hello there, boy!"
She turned round, sat down her bucket and stood in a listening attitude.
"I say boy, who lives yonder?"
"I du," she replied in exact imitation of backwoodsman twang, and, taking a step or two downward, she stooped forward and appeared to be attentively eyeing her new acquaintance.
"Be you the man they're looking fur?" she at length drawled out.
"Who's looking fur?" said he with a start.
"Them men at our house."
"No, you fool of a boy."
The last she saw of Ketchum he was hurrying off with all his might.
Antoinette fairly ran into the house and closing and barring the door she fell upon herknees, and, from her full heart went up to Heaven a song of thankfulness. Blessings multiply when gratitude reigns in the soul; so while Antoinette still knelt a change came over Little Wolf and consciousness returned.
"Where am I?" she faintly articulated, as her watchful and tender nurse arose and approached the bed.
"You are safe, thank God," said Antoinette bursting into tears.
Antoinette now felt new courage, and, when Little Wolf was able to bear it, she related to her that part of their flight of which the illness of the other prevented her having any recollection; but carefully avoided any allusion to her own personal history.
Little Wolf longed to penetrate the mystery that hung over her benefactress, and she would often say to herself, as she sat propped up with pillows watching Antoinette's quiet movements about the house, "how I wish I knew more about her; what a romance!"
But as her strength increased, other desires shared her thoughts more largely.
"How are we to get out of this place?" she frequently exclaimed, and, as often, Antoinette would meekly reply, "The Lord will provide a way."
"Well why don't the Lord provide a way to get us away from here?" she said one day rather impatiently as she sat by the window looking out into the sunshine, "I'm sure I'm well enough to travel now, and winter is coming on and, when once the snow falls, we shall freeze and starve shut up here."
"We shall hardly freeze with that big wood pile at the door, or starve with a cellar full of vegetables," said Antoinette pleasantly.
"O Antoinette, I'm sure your faith hangs on the cellar and woodpile; but, dear me, I've seen neither; I must peep into the cellar right away."
"Let me lift the door for you Miss DeWolf."
A light trap door led to the vegetable kingdom underneath. One glance at the potatoes, cabbages and onions, which were only a part of the products of the garden, piled upin this ten by twelve hole in the ground was enough, as Little Wolf declared, to strengthen the weakest faith.
"Now, if we only had wings, we might mount to that nice dried venison in the garret," she said, glancing upward through a square opening cut in the rough boards overhead. "I wonder how they managed to hang it so high; I do believe the place has been inhabited by a giant. Now where shall we hide when we see him coming? O, I'll get into that huge chest, we little folks might both hide there. I wonder I hadn't thought of it before. Why I'm just beginning to feel like myself; I see how it is, I've been petted and babied too long. Please help me lift this heavy lid. O, its locked—O here's the key sticking just in this niche, O—what a sight!"
Here indeed our heroine had penetrated into the mysteries of a heterogeneous mass. Cooking utensils, carpenters' tools, crockery, salt, pepper, and various other condiments used in the culinary department were huddled together in one end, while the remainder of the space was appropriated to books and clothing, and a bachelor's work box, which, for all the order it boasted, might have belonged to the indulgent mother of ten children.
Antoinette watched her friend with an amused expression of countenance, as she flew from one article to another really delighted to find some amusement, however simple, to while away the tedious hours.
"O, John Hanford is our landlord's name. Here it is on the fly leaf of this book, and here is a book purporting to be the property of Antoinette La Clare. Why Antoinette, I thought the honor of discovering the contents of this box belonged to me; but really I see you have been here before me."
"No, Miss DeWolf, I never saw the inside of the box before, I thought there was no key."
"Is it possible? Why what does it mean? Here is surely an old bible with your namewritten in it in full, 'Antoinette La Clare,' now here it is, you can see for yourself.
Antoinette eagerly took the book, and, having examined the name, proceeded to look it carefully through. It was a pocket bible of the English version in old fashioned binding, and bore marks of long and frequent use.
Little Wolf watched Antoinette's varying countenance as she turned over the leaves. A ray of pleasure, at first, lighted up her sad, wistful face, but slowly faded leaving her apparently more wan and sad than ever, as she returned the volume in silence.
A vague suspicion of evil crept into Little Wolf's mind. How came Antoinette's name in the book and why was she so silent, and why had she appeared so satisfied to remain where they were, if she knew no more about their present abode than she had professed, were a few of the many questions, which awakened distrust, suggested to her busy brain.
The chest had lost its interest and down came the cover with a bang, sadly startlingpoor Antoinette, who had walked to the window to hide her fast falling tears.
Little Wolf saw the tears and Antoinette felt that she had seen them, and the way was made easy for her to say, "O, Miss DeWolf, I'm a child of sorrow. I am sometimes almost overwhelmed with sorrow. Come, let us sit down together, and I will try to tell you why it is. It seems but a few days since I gaily roamed about my childhood's home, hand in hand with brother Jim, or bloody Jim, as he is called."
"Bloody Jim your brother! It cannot be so!" interrupted Little Wolf in amazement, "I thought he was a half breed."
"So he is a half breed; and he is also my half brother; my father was of French descent and, when a young man, he went to the Red River country and engaged in trapping, and trading with the Indians. For several years he made his home principally among the Chippewas, and, like many others of his class, married an Indian women; brother Jim was the fruit of this marriage. His mother wasaccidentally drowned when he was quite an infant; soon afterwards my father returned to Canada, leaving his little son in charge of his Indian grandmother. While there he became acquainted with my mother, whom he made his wife with the understanding that she should accompany him to his wild home and be a mother to his motherless child. Perhaps it may be a mystery to you, Miss DeWolf, that a young and cultivated woman could have been so readily induced to expose herself to the hardships and dangers of frontier life."
"O, no!" broke in Little Wolf, enthusiastically, "not if she did it for love."
"What do you know about love, Miss DeWolf?"
A conscious blush overspread the pale young face, for Antoinette accompanied the question with a wistful enquiring look, that seemed to reach to her very heart.
"O nothing, my very good, penetrating friend; please go on with your story. Was your mother happy?" she asked with a kindof nervous haste, as if to compel an immediate compliance with her request.
"I can not say," said Antoinette very obligingly relieving the embarrassment she had occasioned, "I should think she must have been happy, though, for I believe her short life was a very useful one. She died at my birth having been a wife but one year. During that time, she had by many acts of kindness greatly endeared herself to the savages, and the young Indian woman, who had assisted her in nursing brother Jim, for the love she bore my mother, reared her little daughter with unusually tender care. My father survived her loss but a few weeks, and then brother Jim and myself were thrown entirely upon the care of our kind nurse. My mother had taught her to read and she in turn imparted such instruction to us as she had received, or rather I should say her pains were mostly bestowed upon me, for I was her pet.
Brother Jim grew up like the savages around him, only, if possible, more vindictive and revengeful in his nature. I was the onlybeing for whom he seemed to entertain the least affection, and he certainly lavished upon me wonderful tenderness and love. In his early youth he gathered for me the rarest flowers, and, as he grew older, he brought me game and the choicest fruits, and seemed never so happy as when promoting my comfort. For my amusement he brought me a violin from the distant settlement of Pembinaw, and at length, gratified my curiosity by taking me with him in one of his frequent visits thither. While there my fair skin attracted the attention of a missionary's family, and as brother Jim was rather proud of my parentage, they readily elicited a correct account of my birth from him, and by appealing to his pride, at length wrung from him a reluctant consent to place me for a time under their tutorage, where, beside making rapid progress, I cultivated my naturally correct taste for music. Under their hospitable roof, amid the refinements and courtisies of civilized life I spent many happy months."
"At length the last painful illness of myfaithful nurse, who had never ceased to mourn my absence, recalled me to her. After her death I was exceedingly sad and lonely, and, to add to my sorrows, brother Jim had acquired a love for strong drink, and frequently came to our lodge in a state of intoxication. I grieved over his infatuation and reasoned with him in his sober hours, but all in vain; he grew worse and worse, and often treated me harshly, In despair I went to the trader who I knew supplied him with whiskey and entreated him with tears not to sell him any more. I received from him only insults."
"Of course, you might have known what to expect from one of that class," said Little Wolf with flashing eyes, "I discovered long ago, that there was no mercy in the heart of the liquor dealer. They know it's a mean business and any one who engages in it must first harden his heart enough to turn away from tears of blood."
"I don't thinkallwho engage in the traffic realize the consequences accruing from it," Antoinette mildly replied. "I am sure nohumane person would continue in it, if they once took into consideration the vast amount of misery occasioned by it. I am sure brother Jim was bad enough before he began to drink; but after that he became as unmanageable as a wild beast. Still, alone in the world, I clung to him with all the warm affection of my nature.
"A few months after the death of my nurse, he was pursuaded to join a party from Pembinaw, who were going on their annual visit to St. Paul for the purpose of trading with the whites. At my earnest request he permitted me to accompany him. I was then in my fifteenth year, and mere child as I was, he left me the first day of our arrival entirely alone in our encampment at St. Paul, while he went with the rest of the company to the city.
"By chance a gentleman passing, heard the sound of the violin, with which I was beguiling the tedious hours, and came into my tent. At first I was quite alarmed at sight of a stranger, but his words and manner immediately won my confidence, and put my fears to rest, and, I confess, I was lonelier when he left me and glad when he came again. He knew my unprotected situation, and always made it a point to come when brother Jim was absent. It would be quite impossible for me to describe to you the subtile influence which this person gained over me. I learned to love him with all the ardor of which my passionate and imaginative nature was capable. It was the first unbounded devotion of a warm and innocent heart that he betrayed. I have no words with which to convey an adequate idea of the anguish which I suffered at parting with him. He promised to follow me and make me his wife, but he never came, and at a time when I was least able to bear it, I was subject to brother Jim's fury. His cruelty brought me near to death, and my sufferings only aggravated his bitterness and wrath. With awful curses he swore vengeance on the man for whom I would even then have laid down my life.
"As soon as my strength would permit, Ifled to my friends at Pembinaw. I told them all, even of my shame, which a little grave had forever hid from the world. Like true Christians they soothed my sorrows, and gave me the place in their family which their only daughter, who had married and left them during my absence, had occupied. Several years had passed away, and the good missionary died. His wife soon followed him, and I was again left alone. I had never seen brother Jim since I left him, but had frequently heard of his wicked deeds. I thought now that I would go with my life in my hand and seek him out and try once more by affectionate pursuasion, to induce him to give up his reckless life. Accordingly, I mounted my pony and set out for my former wild home. Reaching the lodge after nightfall, to my surprise I heard voices within. I did not go in, but stood listening at the entrance. I heard brother Jim and his companions propose a plan to capture you. They were to start that very night; so I hid myself among the trees and waited until they were gone. ThenI went in for the night, and the next morning set out to do what I could towards rescuing you.
"Now I have told you all, Miss DeWolf, and our Heavenly Father alone knows our future. As for my name in that bible, you know as much about it as I do. I never saw the book before."
Twofold agony—Dr. Goodrich's promise—Home Again—Lilly Foot—The Convalescent—The Neighborhood Wedding—News from Chimney Rock—The Sherman Family at the West.
Twofold agony—Dr. Goodrich's promise—Home Again—Lilly Foot—The Convalescent—The Neighborhood Wedding—News from Chimney Rock—The Sherman Family at the West.
E
dward Sherman was still where we left him, listening graciously to the pretended good wishes of Hank Glutter, when Dr. Goodrich, who happened to pass that way, saw him through the window and beckoned him out side.
"I expected to have met you at Dr. DeWolf's," said he, "and I brought a letter for you."
Edward took the letter and read it carefully through, turning very pale as he did so. It was from his sister Louise, and contained a brief account of the dangerous illness of his mother, with a request for his immediate presence at home. His extreme paleness and the trembling hand, with which he in silence offered the open sheet for the Doctor's persual were all the outward sign of his soul's agony; agony for a beloved and dying mother; agony for the beloved, lost one, for whom, in company with a few friends, he was about to go in quest.
While the Doctor was running over the communication, Edward tried to calm the surging tempest within, sufficiently to decide him how to act.
"Doctor," said he, "I must go to mother, can you, I know it will be difficult, butcanyou take my place in the company to-morrow?"
"I will go, and, by the love I bear your sister, I promise to do what I can."
"Let me hear from you by mail," said Edward, wringing his hand.
Edward had now barely time to return to Pendleton, and hastily get his trunk in readiness for the forthcoming steamer.
At the sound of the bell he was ready to embark and a few days rapid travelling brought him worn and weary to the old homestead. It was evening when he arrived, and, as he approached the house, he saw a light in his mother's room. His apprehensions were so great that he had not the courage to enter, and, listening near the window, he distinguished his mother's voice in conversation with Louise.
"I would not be surprised to see him this very evening," he heard his sister say.
"Miss Louise," called out Recta's familiar voice. "Miss Louise, won't you please come here quick. Old Spot has got into the front yard; there she is nibbling at that rose bush under the window. I can't see nothing but the white spot in her face; but I know it must be her, she's such an unruly critter; won't you just hold the light while I hist her out?"
"O where's Lilly Foot," said Louise, "she'll drive her out while you open the gate. Here, Lilly Foot."
Lilly Foot came growling along from the vicinity of the barn, where, after the fatigue of bringing the cows from the distant meadow, she had gone to rest and recruit for night watching.
Having forgotten at the beginning of our story to introduce Lilly Foot under the family head we will pause for a moment and give her the notice to which her position and worth entitle her. She was a very respectable looking animal of the canine species originally coal black with the exception of one white foot, from which she derived her name, but now grown grey in the service of the family.
From puppyhood to old age, this faithful creature had made it her daily business to keep the cows, sheep, pigs, and poultry each in their proper places, and, having been raised on a quiet, orderly New England farm, had never in the course of her whole life, had occasion to perform more onerous nightly dutiesthan to sleep with one eye open; consequently, she had come to consider regular rest as her lawful right, and was in no mood to bear the present encroachment.
"I believe the dog is getting old and cross," said Recta in a voice very like that which had occasioned her censure. "Here Lilly Foot, there's Old Spot; take her."
The words had scarcely left Recta's lips before Lilly Foot saw and flew violently at the object indicated,
"Lilly Foot."
They all heard—Edward's voice that came from the rose bush, and it would be difficult to say from which of the three, Louise, Recta, or Lilly Foot, he received the warmest greeting.
Mrs. Sherman had passed the crisis, of her disease, and Edward, assured of her convalesence, sought her bedside with a buoyant step.
"My dear son, to have you here is all the medicine I need now," she said, as she held him to her bosom.
The first greetings over, Edward's unnatural strength produced by anxiety and excitement gave way, and he lay down to rest that night prostrated in body and mind.
Confused images of his mother, Little Wolf, and Bloody Jim crowded his unquiet dreams, and he awoke in the morning comparatively unrefreshed, and the old load in his bosom but little lightened. Soon after breakfast he signified his intention of riding over to the Post Office, two miles distant.
"O no," said his sister playfully, "mother will be disappointed; she expects to have you all to herself this morning. I made it a point to go for the mail every day until she was taken sick. Let me go this time, I really need a horseback ride. If I get a letter for you, you shall have it in just fifteen minutes."
"From now?"
"No; from the time I get it."
"I am overruled," laughed Edward, and he went to his mother's room. Scarcely had he seated himself when Mrs. Sherman enquired,
"Has Dr. DeWolf's daughter been found yet, Edward?"
"No, mother."
"How dreadful! Dr. Goodrich said in his last letter he had but little hope of seeing her alive. I was gratified to hear that you were in pursuit, and that you were situated so you could do your father's old friend a favor. I wish you would tell me the particulars of the sad affair."
Mrs. Sherman wondered at Edward's prolonged silence, as he sat there utterly unable to say a word. She was beginning to have a vague conception of the truth, when he turned to her and said in a voice which the effort to control rendered scarcely audible.
"Mother, I expected to have made Miss De Wolf my wife. I can not talk about it now."
But Mrs. Sherman led him gently on by means which true mothers know so well how to use, to unburden his heart, and ere long her sympathy ran so high as to propose that he should return to Minnesota, and if needhe should return to Minnesota, and if need be spend the winter there.
"If I could take you and Louise with me," said he.
Just then Louise came, in high spirits.
"O mother," said she, "you must hurry and get well in time to attend Maria Dole's wedding. I met her going to shop. She wants me to be one of her bridesmaids. Now guess who she is going to marry; but of course you'd never guess for you are not acquainted with the gentleman; so I may as well toll you at once; John Hanford, from the wilds of Minnesota. Maria says she is afraid of being carried off by the bears, but still too willing to venture a home in the woods for her dear Johnny's sake. I did not tell her about Dr. DeWolf's daughter, I was afraid it would stop the wedding, Maria is such a timid creature. Brother, do tell me about that horrible affair."
"Tell her mother," said Edward and immediately left the room.
While Mrs. Sherman was explaining thematter, Edward was walking up and down the lawn in front of the house, vainly considering the probabilities of a favorable termination of his troubles.
"What can we do for poor Edward?" said Louise, after a long silence, "I think he ought to go back."
"He was saying when you came in if he could only take you and me."
"Well why not?" said Louise eagerly, "I am sure if you keep on getting well as rapidly as you have for a few days you'll be about the house in a week."
"When we hear from Dr. Goodrich, my dear, we shall be better able to decide what is best for us to do."
"Then all we can do is to wait in patience."
Wait they did for over a week before the looked-for intelligence arrived, and the following is the contents of Dr. Goodrich's letter.
"Dear Sherman.All our efforts have proved unavailing. We could not find the least clue to aid us in our search. I am nowinclined to think that Miss DeWolf has voluntarily secreted herself until such times as she hopes to return unmolested by Bloody Jim, whom, if my conjectures are correct, she no doubt thinks still at large. As for Bloody Jim his lips are forever closed. In attempting to escape from prison last evening he was shot dead.
I learn with pleasure from your letter which I have just received, that your mother's health is rapidly improving. Take courage Ned, the same hand that restored one loved one can also restore the other. You say you must return. Why not bring your mother and sister with you? A change of climate would no doubt benefit both. I think there will be time for you to come before navigation closes. The weather continues splendid. I am now at Dr. DeWolf's. He is worse again; I think he cannot last long. He is literally drinking himself to death. Mrs. Hawley still attends on him. Sorrel Top and daddy do not get along very well together, but between them the Doctor's house is well cared for.
If it will be any comfort to you I will say that I have sanguine expectations of again seeing Miss DeWolf safe at home,
Yours with more sympathy than I can express.
G. Goodrich."
Louise received a letter from the same hand, but it being an entirely private affair we can only speculate upon its contents. Doubtless among other things there were unanswerable arguments in favor of a western trip, for when the reading was over, she was the first one to say.
"I think we had all better get ready as soon as we can and start for Minnesota."
Edward being of the same mind, and Mrs. Sherman willing to gratify her children, it was not many days before the arrangments were all made for the journey. Recta and Lilly Foot were to be left in sole charge of the house; the tenant having promised the assistance of one of his sons when required.
The wedding ceremony of John Hanford and Maria Dole having been performed the evening previous to their departure, they traveled in company with the bridal pair.
Maria Dole was the only daughter of aneighboring farmer, and the two girls had from childhood been on intimate terms, and Louise had hoped some day to call her sister; but she loved the gentle girl none the less for the step she had taken, and Edward's regard for her seemed to have suddenly increased. The conduct of her husband who was a bashful soul, exceedingly shy, and sparing of his husbandly attentions, gave Edward frequent opportunities during their trip of cultivating a more familiar acquaintance with her than he had ever imagined possible.
"Some women appear to better advantage after marriage and Maria Dole is one of them," he said in a very decided manner to his sister after having been engaged in a long conversation with the newly-made wife. "She can converse now and she never could before."
"Yon mean, brother, you were afraid of each other before. It was my fault; you both knew what my wishes were, and it spoiled all. To have carried out the romance of the thing, you ought to have discovered her perfections before it was too late."
Louise quite forgot for the moment her brother's affliction, but on second thought said no more.
"I am sorry Mr. Hanford is going to take her so far from any settlement," said Edward, not appearing to notice what had been said, "he tells me his nearest neighbor is ten miles distant."
"How lonely Maria will be, I'm glad we are all to visit her in the Spring," said Louise, alluding to a promise made to that effect.
"Mr. Hanford rather insists upon my going out with them now, but I could not promise until I had seen the Doctor. If I decide to go I can overtake him by the next steamer, as he will stop for a day or two at St. Paul."
The next day after the above conversation, the party having arrived at Pendleton, separated; Mr. and Mrs. Hanford continuing up the river to the head of navigation, while the Sherman family were introduced to comfortable quarters provided by the forethought of Dr. Goodrich.
By the advice of his friends, who plainlysaw, that under the circumstances, he could not content himself to remain where he was, Edward decided to join Mr. Hanford at St. Paul, and the following chapter will chronicle the result.
Rough Roads—the Happy Bridegroom—Jacob Mentor's Experience—Fairy Knoll—A Joyful Meeting.
Rough Roads—the Happy Bridegroom—Jacob Mentor's Experience—Fairy Knoll—A Joyful Meeting.
T
he prospect of a change from steamboat navigation, always so delightful on the upper Mississippi, to jolting and jarring over a rough extent of country in a heavy, lumbering wagon, suited to the unimproved state of the roads, was anything but agreeable to Mr. and Mrs. Hanford, as they surveyed the uncomely vehicle drawn up before their hotel.
Edward had overtaken them, and with Mr. and Mrs. Hanford, stood waiting on the porch, while Mr. Hanford made every arrangement for their comfort, of which the state of the case would admit. The cushions and buffalos at length fixed to his satisfaction he assisted in his wife, and after a small strife, in which each contended for the seat which neither wanted, Edward prevailed, and planted himself beside the driver, while Mr. Hanford, looking remarkably happy for a vanquished man, took his place beside his wife.
The sober driver, Jacob Mentor by name, looked over his shoulder and carefully surveyed his load before starting. The trunks were firmly strapped on behind, and a half a dozen chairs were also disposed of in the same way. A small sized dining table, bed downward, rested behind the seats, so hugged up by boxes and bundles, that it appeared impossible for any number of bumps or thumps to disturb its quiet. The two beaming faces, just in the van of all this array, did not escape the eyes of honest Jacob.
"I guess yer pretty comfortable to start on," said he.
"All right," said Mr. Hanford, "drive on."
It would be a matter of surprise how it had entered into the head of a plain, common-sense, matter-of-fact young man like John Hanford, to bestow the name of "Fairy Knoll" on the little hillock in the wilderness, where stood his solitary cabin, did we not remember that at the time he was completely under love's influence. The name given under such circumstances was music to him as it fell frequently from the lips of his young bride on their toilsome journey thither.
"I hope the fairies at Fairy Knoll will have a nice fire to welcome us, she said, as the day was drawing to a close, and they were nearing her future home.
"Are you very cold?" said her husband, drawing her more closely to his side.
The day had been unusually chilly, and towards night the autumn winds got up a boisterous frolic, and swept past, dashing from their wings light flurries of snow directly inthe faces of our travelers, and the delicate bride, unused to such rough play, had at last hid her face behind her veil and wished for the warm fireside. Before she had had time to reply to Mr. Hanford's question, Edward produced a neat little flask encased in silver, and unfastening from the stopper a tiny cup of the same make, he filled it with the sparkling fluid, at the same time giving orders for the wagon to stop.
"Now here is something almost equal to a warm fire," he said offering Mrs. Hanford the cup.
"What is it?" said she, hesitatingly.
"Pure domestic wine, some of Col. Wilson's best, ho presented it to me just before I left home, and gave me his word it was unadulterated," said Edward, with great assurance.
"Col. Wilson's wines are justly popular," said Mrs. Hanford, sipping the beverage; but it is whispered that the Colonel uses alcohol in their preparation."
"O, very likely," said Edward carelessly. "I have no doubt of it, but this he assuredme was unadulterated. Have some, Mr. Hanford?"
"I don't care if I do. It is really very fine," he said, returning the cup, "quite stimulating, but I prefer a little brandy to any other stimulant; it takes right hold."
"You surely don't drink brandy!" exclamed the young wife, anxiously.
"Only a little, occasionally, when I need it to keep the cold out. O never fear, my dear," he continued observing the look of concern upon his wife's countenance. "I'm a good temperance man, but not a teetotaler; that is drawing the reins rather too tight."
Meantime, Edward had offered the driver a drink, but the man shook his head; "No, thank you," said he, "I'd rather not take any."
"Not take any!" said Edward, "why, sir, it will do you good."
"I'm not sick," said the other.
"But you are cold," said Edward, mistaking his modest demeanor for bashfulness.
But the earnest and decided shake of thehead by which he refused the second invitation, signified more than words that he was an adherent of the total abstinence principles.
"What a simpleton," said Edward to himself, as the individual by his side shiveringly gathered up the reins and drove on.
But the individual's ruminations were of quite a different character, and something after this wise: "Shiver away, old man, it is better to shiver than to drink." Be it known that for many years this grey headed man had without measure, poured down the alcoholic fire. When at length overcome by it, a good Samaritan had discovered him lying sick by the wayside, and had humanely assisted him to rise, and had set him upon the beast commonly known as "Total Abstinence," upon which he had ridden with great comfort and safety up to the time of our story. Moreover being satisfied that the animal was of good parts andsure-footed, he was not at all inclined to exchange the faithful old creature for any of the best bloods belonging to the domestic wine family. He had not forgottenthat apparently harmless little hobby-horse whosecognomenwas Lager Beer, which he had sported in his youth, but which at last got unruly; whether from having been stabled with vicious beasts, or from a bad quality which it inherently possessed, he was not in a condition to inquire the first time it played off its pranks upon him. But one thing was certain, after several months of docile behavior, one fine morning his pet landed him very unceremoniously in the gutter, after which, on various occasions, he mounted nearly all the beasts in the stable, whiskey, rum, brandy, etc., but they, one and all, proved vastly more refractory than the first named, and, as we have seen, he was at length left battered and bruised by the way side.
It is needless to state that Jacob Mentor's experience had not, nor was it likely to benefit any so much as himself; for who, among the thousands tampering with stimulating drinks, could be made to believe that a glass of beer, or an occasional sip of wine would result in their final overthow?
Such, at all events, was not the opinion of our young friends journeying in the direction of "Fairy Knoll; for more than once the wine went round as the night winds whistled colder. But the tedious road had at length an end, and about dark, the heavy wagon lumbered up under the shadows of Fairy Knoll.
"It won't do to drive up that hill with this heavy load, the horses are too much jaded," said Jacob.
"Then we'll walk up," said Mr. Hanford, jumping out. "Come now, Mrs. Hanford," proudly stretching out his arms, "I will carry you up. Mr. Sherman follow me; the path is a little slippery, and we shall have to step carefully."
By reason of his burden and the icy path, Mr. Hanford was sometime in reaching his cabin, but he made short work of getting inside; for, having bestowed several impatient thumps upon the window which he declared frozen down, he suddenly threw himself against the door, and crack went the woodenfastening, and open flew the door, and a most unexpected scene burst upon his astonished vision.
Surely here were the fairies, and here the warm fire for which his shivering little wife had been wishing. Surprise held him upon the threshold; but Edward, who instantly recognized in one of the so-called fairies, the person of Little Wolf, sprang forward with a shout of joy.
"The honey, sure as I'm alive," cried Jacob Mentor, pressing eagerly after him. "Laws," said he, precipitately dropping his bundles in the middle of the floor, and rushing up to Edward, "how came the little creature here?"
Edward silently held the little creature in his arms as if he would keep back the dear life that appeared leaving her, and when Jacob's eye fell upon the white, upturned face, he drew back with a look of alarm.
When this and that restorative had been resorted to with happy effect, and Little Wolf no longer required undivided attention, at her suggestion Antoinette La Clare briefly related the story of their escape from Bloody Jim. Mutual explanations followed, discovering to Antoinette the fact, that she had taken refuge in the house of her cousin, for such John Hanford proved to be, his mother's sister having married Antoinette's father.
Amid the general rejoicings and congratulations, Edward naturally alluded to the death of Bloody Jim, and the means by which it was accomplished. "We are fairly rid of him now," he said, turning to Little Wolf, who had quietly slipped from his embrace and perched herself upon the big chest, "the ball made sure work."
The color had come to her cheek, and there was great joy in her eye, but Edward's unlucky words made her pale again, and she looked quickly and apprehensively towards Antoinette.
The poor girl shiveringly hid her face in her hands and sobbed audibly.
Busy Preparations and the Climax—The Lovers—Tom Tinknor's Discovery—General Rejoicings—The Idol Defaced.
Busy Preparations and the Climax—The Lovers—Tom Tinknor's Discovery—General Rejoicings—The Idol Defaced.
T
he next morning the cottage on the knoll presented a scene of busy preparation, the climax of which brought forth Little Wolf rosy, and roguish, wrapped in blankets and shawls, sufficient, we doubt not, to have covered over more land than the nether garments of the famous Ten Breeches.
She was now in readiness for her homeward journey. The long-wished-for time had come, and with it, ten thousand joyous emotions, which, amid all the changes of after life, she never forgot. Her heart had put forth its life flower, and who ever forgot a like season of bloom.
Edward was here, there, and everywhere, arranging for her comfort, and he looked very proud indeed when he handed, or rather lifted the lady in blankets into the big wagon, and took his seat beside her.
They were to go alone, Antoinette having accepted a pressing invitation to remain with her newly-found cousins. The driver of the day before did not, as on a previous occasion, wait for orders. Before the adieus were fairly spoken he cracked his whip and drove off at a rate, which, in his cooler moments, he would have pronounced absolutely ruinous to his carefully preserved establishment. The fact that said establishment comprised all the earthly possessions of honest Jacob, was of itself a sufficient guarantee for the safe transportation of his employers. But when added to this was a natural cautiousness and benevolence of disposition, which could not but beobserved on the most casual acquaintance, few could have lost their assurance, even on the verge of a precipice, when he held the reins.
His extreme caution made him a favorite teamster, not only overland, but especially on the Mississippi; when at certain seasons there was danger in travelling on the ice. At such times, Squire Tinknor and Dr. DeWolf had taken some pains to secure his services, when exchanging family visits, and he had frequently been entrusted with the sole charge of Little Wolf, when she was but a child, and delighted with the long icy trip.
In those days, the little lady had completely won the heart of her protector, and he had never before had occasion to be jealous of attentions which she was pleased to receive from any of her friends, except, indeed, when Daddy would sometimes infringe upon his rights, by officiously lifting her in and out of his sleigh. Nor could he be said to be jealous now. It was only the same disagreeable sensation which affectionate sisters sometimesexperience on the occasion of the marriage of a favorite brother. Had Jacob been questioned on the subject, he would have stoutly declared that he was glad of it; for that was just what he tried to say to himself, when he saw Edward put his dearly beloved pet into the wagon. But even his fine horses, which he hurried off with such unseemly haste, ought to have known it was not so.
"Why, what has got into the man? he has almost taken your breath away," said Edward tenderly.
"A little more careful, sir," he said, as Jacob turned his head at his loud exclamation.
"Yes, yes; I beg pardon, I was careless."
The speaker was evidently ashamed of his freak. A second look at the happy couple, and a kind word from his pet, "Dear Jacob, I believe old Grey and Bill remember how I used to want to go fast when we went so much together," soothed his turbulent feelings and he went on quite slowly, picking up some crumbs of comfort in default of the whole loaf.
The loaf, be it remembered, had fallen into the hands of the voracious couple just behind him, and if greedily devouring it during the entire day would have made a finish of it, the deed would have been done. But the more they fed on it, the larger and sweeter it grew, and, by the time they had arrived at Squire Tinknor's, their loaf had grown to be almost as much as they could carry.
Squire Tinknor, it will be remembered, was an old acquaintance of Dr. DeWolf, and, as we have elsewhere stated, the two gentlemen were on intimate terms. Having at one time been his partner in some extensive land speculations, the Squire had, since that period, acted as the doctor's financial agent and advisor. He was generally shrewd and reliable in his business transactions, although his appetite for drink occasionally got the better of his judgment. This known discrepancy of character was tolerated in society rather as an amiable weakness, than a vile habit, for none had the hardihood to frown openly upon a man of Squire Tinknor's wealth and position.
His family consisted of a wife and one son. The latter, a handsome, dashing young man, he had secretly desired to see attracted towards the daughter of his friend, and in this had not been disappointed. Thomas Tinknor had, from a boy, bestowed his choicest attentions upon the young lady, and when she was carried off, he had sworn to bring her back, or "die in the attempt." To this end he had faithfully mounted his horse each day since her disappearance, and had ridden several miles into the woods, always going out in high spirits, and returning somewhat dejected.
It was in this condition that he might have been seen approaching his father's house just as Jacob Mentor drew up before the gate. His heart beat quickly, for he instantly recognized the toss of that little head, enveloped as it was in hood and veil. He was not slow in extending to Little Wolf a warm welcome. So warm indeed, was it, and of such vapory stuff is comfort made, that Edward's ponderous loaf evaporated, leaving only asmall fragment such as could be drawn from a stolen glance of the eye, while she was being carried into the house, and transported from the arms of Mr. Tinknor the younger, to the arms of Mr. Tinknor the elder, and lastly, affectionately folded in the embrace of Mrs. Tinknor.
"You see everything I have on is borrowed," said Little wolf, as Mrs. Tinknor was assisting her in undoing her wrappings, "but I hope to be at home in a day or two."
"Home in a day or two!" interrupted Tom, "Not in a month or two, if I can prevent it."
"I intend to be at home to-morrow, provided the steamers are still running," said the young lady decidedly.
"O, now, you are too bad to treat us so shabbily," said Tom, coaxingly, "do stay until the river freezes, and I'll take you down on the ice."
"Thank you, Mr. Tinknor, I must go to-morrow."
Tom Tinknor, knew from past experience that to attempt further persuasion was entirely useless, and he said no more, silently indulging the hope that the ice would blockade the river before morning. His desires were in part gratified. The next day it was ascertained that no steamers would venture forth among the floating ice cakes, and Tom was exultant.
In this mood he determined to give Little Wolf a surprise party, and thus alleviate, in some degree her disappointment. His parents heartily co-operated in his project, and the trio immediately set about making preparations for the entertainment of a large circle of friends.
It was decided that Edward should be initiated into the secret, and the task of hoodwinking their prying and discontented young guest, was assigned to him. By ways and means known only to a masterly hand, Edward contrived on that eventful day to perform the feat, in which, no doubt, the whole Tinknor family combined would have failed.
For when evening came on, and the company were assembled, Little Wolf most unexpectedly found herself in the midst, an object of universal interest. A more beautiful object could scarce have been found. At all events, so thought Edward Sherman, as he mingled in the throng, great billows of gladness surging in his soul. His cup of joy was large and full. He was holding it with a firm hand, and he said in his heart, "I shall never be moved."
The evening was drawing to a close, but the feasting and toasting was still kept up. The wine went round, and the adventures of our heroine continued to be commemorated in appropriate sentiments. While the guests still lingered, a shade of anxiety might occasionally be traced on many a fair face, as husband or brother, or "that other," exhibited unmistakable signs of an overheated brain.
Little Wolfs cheek grew pale, as from time to time she observed the rising flush on Edward's brow. He was exceedingly susceptible to the use of stimulants, and was rapidly thrown into a highly exhilarated condition, making him for a time brilliant, but finallyentangling his talk in a labyrinth of meaningless and silly words. When in the latter condition which was not observable until just before the party broke up, he conceived the unlucky idea of urging upon Little Wolf a glass of his favorite drink. "Permit me," said he, stepping, or rather swaggering up to where the lady stood, "to—to—," and suddenly appearing to notice the extreme pallor that overspread her countenance, he stammered, "to bring the blushes to those cheeks."
It was enough. The heart at once threw its crimson mantle upon her face, but alas! it was dyed in shame. Poor Little Wolf had no words at command. There, before her, stood the man in whom, a few hours before she had felt so much pride and confidence. Her heart's best feelings had gone out to him, and here was her idol horribly defaced, and he knew it not. He even held invitingly towards her the instrument that had done the mischief, and, while the cup still shook in his trembling hand, he began to wonder at her silence.
She once or twice moved her lips, as if to speak, but the words died away. She was not faint or weak, but was for the moment paralyzed. When the quick reaction came, on fire with indignation she acted with characteristic energy and decision, and all heard the crash of the goblet, as with one rapid sweep of her little hand she dashed it to the floor, and fled from the room.
Did she forgive him? She said in her heart she would not.