THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 GIFT
 
 My Quaker Maid 
 
 -BY- 
 
 MARAH ELLIS RYAN 
 
 -AUTHOR OF- 
 
 "ToLD IN THE HILLS," "A PAGAN OF THE ALLEGHANIES," 
 "SQUAW ^LOUISE," "!N LOVE S DOMAIN," "MERZE," ETC. 
 
 CHICAGO AND NEW YORK: 
 RAND, McNALLY & COMPANY, 
 
 PUBLISHERS
 
 Copyright, 1906, by Rand, McKally & Co.
 
 PS 
 
 MY QJJAKER MAID 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Gallop ! gallop ! gallop ! rode two men in the spring 
 time of their lives, and the spring of the year as it 
 smiles on Northern Maryland. All the sweet odors 
 of the new-turned soil, and the fragrance of the 
 first orchards, swept past them, and the pink petals 
 of peach trees made rosy spots near and far through 
 the clearings. 
 
 But neither of the gentlemen riders, nor the 
 slender colored boy with a portmanteau pegging 
 along in their rear, gave aught of heed to the road 
 side beauties. Occasionally one or the other would 
 glance back over shoulder when some eminence was 
 reached, but their speed was only checked where a 
 hamlet was passed; a field where curious farmers 
 rested on their plow handles to stare at the unusual 
 strangers traveling along the back road; for a bit 
 unusual they certainly appeared to the rural eye, 
 despite the red clay of the country on man and beast. 
 
 Their horses were magnificent animals to be given 
 notice for their breeding anywhere, and their equip 
 ment was in keeping; while the fine gray coats of 
 their riders could not all conceal the costume of 
 men of fashion in the fifties.
 
 6 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 "We had been less noticed to have kept to the 
 turnpike where travelers pass hourly," grumbled 
 the taller and more handsome man of the two. 
 "How much farther does this devilish trail lead us 
 into the wilderness?" 
 
 "Less than five miles to the State line, and com 
 parative safety." 
 
 Safety ? You mean breathing time ! retorted the 
 other. And this filly of mine Oh ! curse the luck ! 
 
 For in crossing a stretch of corduroy road at the 
 edge of a marshy stream she broke through one of 
 the half-rotted logs, stumbled, and came to a stand 
 her foot fast. 
 
 The rider and the much frightened black boy were 
 on the ground in an instant, carefully extricating 
 the prisoned member, the rider patting her sides 
 affectionately with a hand on which a bandage had 
 slipped down from the wrist, stained slightly with 
 blood, as from some late injury. 
 
 "Good girl good girl!" he said, as he led her 
 along the edge of the treacherous road, watching her 
 carefully as she lifted the hurt foot. At the border 
 of the little stream he halted, leaned on the saddle 
 and stared across at his friend on the other side. 
 
 "It s no use, Rob," he said, briefly. "She s gone 
 lame; I ll not run her another mile sheriff or no 
 sheriff!" 
 
 The other struck his fist into his palm with a 
 smothered imprecation and slid from his saddle. 
 
 "Take mine; I will be a lighter weight for her, 
 and we can make it."
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 7 
 
 " No ; she can t make the pace it s no use trying! 
 We ve got to separate. You post me where to 
 wait on the other side of the line for you. I don t 
 know a rod of your Yankee land outside of cities. 
 Where is the plantation of your Quaker friend, the 
 horse breeder?" 
 
 He was still rubbing the animal s foreleg ruefully, 
 and the tone of anxiety appeared as much for the 
 hurt as for his own safety. 
 
 "Three miles the other side of the line," said the 
 young fellow called Rob. "He bred this colt of 
 mine and will know it on sight. You take it give 
 him my name and he ll be pleased to entertain you 
 until my arrival. I must go home first, but I ll 
 join you at Marquand s to-night." 
 
 "Have you really people in your North who will 
 entertain travelers without further introduction than 
 that? I should prefer a tavern to any private hos 
 pitality ; it is difficult to accept courtesies and avoid 
 answering ordinary questions." 
 
 "Never trouble yourself about that," remarked 
 his friend, with a curious smile. "If all tales are 
 true, Friend Noah is accustomed to entertaining 
 guests who prefer the same reticence. And you 
 will see a prettier girl on that plantation than to be 
 met at any tavern stand. Pretty! There s only 
 one girl in the old Quaker State to compare with 
 her for charm and I m not giving you her address! 
 But Jack Marquand would take the shine off most 
 of your fine quality ladies of Baltimore," 
 
 "Jack?"
 
 8 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 " Jack is the Quaker maid you ll want to win when 
 you see her; her real name is Jaqcynthia." 
 
 "A Quaker maid for me? No, thank you!" he 
 growled, and Rob laughed. 
 
 "Has your latest duel made you a temporary 
 cynic to the sex?" he demanded ; but his friend only 
 frowned, and ignored the question. 
 
 "What is the man s name?" he asked, as he 
 swung into the saddle. 
 
 "Marquand Noah Marquand." 
 
 "That s not a Quaker name it s French." 
 
 "Happens to be both," retorted his friend. 
 "What s in a name, anyway? You d ride as well 
 and shoot as straight, Mr. Jenkens, if you were 
 called Jones." 
 
 " Keep your doubtful pleasantries for someone in the 
 humor for them," suggested Mr. Jenkens, scowlingly. 
 Then, as he gathered up the reins, a frightened cry 
 from his servant caused him to look ahead where a 
 horseman had just dashed from a side lane into the 
 road, and checked his animal, facing them. 
 
 Mr. Jenkens whistled softly, dropped the reins 
 again, and pulled his coat sleeve lower over the 
 stained bandage on his wrist. 
 
 "The game is up, Rob!" he said, with an airy 
 gesture of finality. " That was an officer we sighted ; 
 he s taken some short cut and headed us off." 
 
 "Go back?" 
 
 "Fo Gord s sake, Mahs Kirkley," begged the 
 colored boy, who was ashen from fright, "don yo 
 vise us to go back thah!"
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 9 
 
 "Keep quiet, Nat!" said Mr. Jenkens. "There s 
 no use turning back, Rob; he has left some one to 
 guard the rear unless he s a fool and he doesn t 
 ride like one." 
 
 "What s to be done?" 
 
 The other drew a cigar from his pocket, and lit 
 it before replying. 
 
 " I reckon it s a little game of bluff for you, Robin, 
 my boy," he said, easily. "If you play it as well 
 as you did on me our last evening at cards, you 
 stand a chance to win. Come on. I ve been long 
 ing for a smoke this hour past. The addition to 
 our company will give us leisure for that, anyway." 
 
 "Gad!" muttered his friend, "is that your upper 
 most thought. I feel more like shooting his horse 
 and making a run for it." 
 
 "Try diplomacy first," suggested Mr. Jenkens, 
 who, if he felt anxiety, could conceal it better than 
 his friend. They rode slowly on toward the waiting 
 horseman, who eyed them keenly and held his nag 
 with one strong, nervous hand; the other was at 
 his side, hidden from them. Both men guessed 
 that it held a pistol in good condition. 
 
 But, as they came closer, they were surprised to 
 see that hidden right hand make a slow backward 
 movement as though thrusting something in his 
 pocket ; and in response to their salutation he touched 
 his hat in a half apologetic manner blended with 
 chagrin. 
 
 "Well, gentlemen," he said, as they ranged 
 alongside, " I reckon you wonder why I nearly
 
 io MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 broke my own neck to say nothing of my horse s 
 trying to head you off at this turn? I believe this 
 is Mr. Robinson Kirkley of Kirkleysford, is it not?" 
 
 "That is my name," assented Mr. Kirkley; "and 
 unless my memory is at fault, you are Mr. Kane, 
 lately elected sheriff of our county across the line." 
 
 "Exactly! I ve been over here in Maryland on 
 a matter of business, and, coming back, thought 
 I d found some more work rather in my line. You ll 
 be surprised to know I ve been trying to run you 
 down for the past ten miles!" 
 
 The colored boy smothered a groan; Mr. Kirkley 
 looked astounded, and Mr. Jenkens mildly curious. 
 
 "An actual fact, gentlemen," asserted the sheriff, 
 enjoying their surprise. "And when I tell you I 
 was trying to ride you down because one of you was 
 supposed to be a runaway white nigger, you ll 
 understand just how cheap I feel over the affair." 
 
 The surprise of the two was so very decided, as 
 they exchanged astounded glances, that the sheriff 
 hastened to apologize. 
 
 "Not for any money would I have connected a 
 member of your family with such an affair, Mr. 
 Kirkley. But it is pretty well understood that the 
 underground railway does have helpers somewhere 
 near the line here, and we have to be always on the 
 alert regarding strange travelers. You ve been 
 abroad for a spell, and can scarcely realize how much 
 worse conditions are." 
 
 "But when the man is a negro " began Mr. 
 Kirkley, with a puzzled frown,
 
 MY QUAKER MAID n 
 
 "Oh! the description suggests a white man; he 
 could easily pass for white in the North is above 
 average height, wore clothes of a gentleman planter, 
 and the description fitted your friend so well I 
 thought I had a sure thing of it when you left the 
 pike for this back road where few strangers travel. 
 And, by the Constitution, you rode a good race!" 
 
 "Yes a bit of a wager," stated Mr. Kirkley. 
 " But a lame horse spoiled it. Let me introduce 
 you to my friend, Mr. Marshall Jenkens of Vir 
 ginia." 
 
 The gentleman from Virginia courteously acknowl 
 edged the introduction and apologies; and, as war 
 rant of his favor, offered an excellent Cuban cigar 
 to Mr. Kane as the three continued their journey 
 more leisurely toward the North. 
 
 When they reached the next crossroad, the sheriff 
 was pleased to learn that he was to have the dis 
 tinguished company of the Kirkleysford heir across 
 to the turnpike, five miles away. Some day, if he 
 followed the rule of his forefathers, Robinson Kirk- 
 ley would be a political power in the county, and 
 well worth cultivating by the seekers after office. 
 
 And Mr. Jenkens, whose business, unfortunately, 
 called him in a different direction, parted from them 
 with hand shakings, and evident reluctance; and, 
 with only the nervous colored boy as companion, 
 rode on his lonely way toward the State line.
 
 12 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Hi! Betty Martin! Tiptoe! Tiptoe! 
 Hi! Betty Martin! Tiptoe fine! 
 
 The strumming of a guitar lent mellow accom 
 paniment to the high, sweet, girlish voice of Dorothy 
 Starr, as she danced down between the rows of bud 
 ding daffodils and narcissus; and Jaqcynthia Mar- 
 quand turned from a favorite rose tree she was prun 
 ing, to shake her head smilingly at the pretty visitor. 
 
 "I fear thee is possessed of a mischievous spirit 
 this morning, Dorothy. Thee knows so well how 
 Aunt Tabitha abhors those lilting airs." 
 
 "La! Friend Tabitha Morgan feels it her duty 
 to abhor the sun in its course if it means gayety. 
 Your father said I might visit you during his three 
 days of absence. He knows I sing, he knows I 
 dance, he knows I am all that is deplorably worldly, 
 yet I m invited! Do you fancy I mean to let you 
 moon away the time during those three days? 
 Well, I shan t! My father let me come before I d 
 been back from the city twenty-four hours, because 
 he thinks your example will reflect divine grace 
 upon me. But, Jack, dear, I ve brought the guitar 
 I ve brought the book of plays. We will sing, 
 we will dance, and Friend Tabitha may go pray!" 
 
 Noah Marquand s daughter surveyed her reck 
 less visitor with amused eyes, and an adorable 
 smile curving her rose of a mouth.
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 13 
 
 "Thy visit of a month to the city has sent thee 
 back more worldly than ever, I fear," she remarked, 
 ruefully. "But thy ungodly hat is wonderfully 
 becoming." 
 
 Dorothy promptly kissed her, and drew off the 
 disfiguring garden gloves from Jack s strong, slender 
 hands. 
 
 "They should never labor, these wonderful hands 
 of yours, Jack, dear," she insisted. "I always 
 fancy how they would look flashing with rings. 
 And a gown of satin white is your color, Jack 
 and a rose back of your ear, and only a scarf of lace 
 over your arms and shoulders. And music not my 
 tinkle, but real music for you to dance to and, 
 oh! Jack! Jack! the right man to dance with!" 
 
 Dorothy s hopeless wail over the utter improb 
 ability of such a to-be-desired combination was 
 almost tragical, and was broken in upon by Jaq- 
 cynthia s laughter. 
 
 "They have put wonderful pictures in thy head 
 there in Philadelphia," she agreed, as they reached 
 the house. " But cast thy eyes about the room 
 and observe how little this framework fits such 
 pictures. We are simple folk, Dorothy, and like 
 to remain so all our days." 
 
 Dorothy Starr obediently cast her blue eyes over 
 the room they had entered. 
 
 It was magnificent in proportion; paneled in 
 dark wood, and furnished in old mahogany of 
 wonderful carving. Silken samplers, worked in 
 conventional lilies cf white and roses of pink,
 
 i 4 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 framed scriptural texts, and broke the severity of 
 the paneled walls. 
 
 On a mantel, beside stately silver candelabra, 
 some beautiful sea shells of pink echoed the bright 
 note given by spiky branches of peach blossoms in 
 a glittering cut glass bowl on the center table; and 
 daffodils, in a green boat of Chinese porcelain, 
 glowed from the wide window sill. 
 
 Dorothy surveyed it all approvingly, and then 
 her eyes turned again to the lithe, strong figure in 
 straight gown of gray, and surplice waist with the 
 tiny bands of white at throat and wrist. 
 
 "The frame is all very well," she said, finally. 
 " If you went more into the world you would know 
 it is a fit setting for a princess. Not a thing but 
 silks should rustle here; yet you content yourself 
 with a stuff gown and garden gloves!" 
 
 "Has the city given thee so much discontent 
 that it is too heavy a burden to bear alone? " queried 
 her hostess. "And must I take my share of it? 
 The stuff dress is very good for the garden, and 
 the gloves save the fingers from the thorns." 
 
 "But why work among the thorns? I tell you 
 it is silken mitts you should wear, and satins to 
 rustle when you walk." 
 
 Jack only laughed, and took a bunch of keys 
 from the drawer of a cabinet. 
 
 "Here," she said, gayly, "are the keys of my 
 worldly French grandmother. If silks can rest 
 thy spirit, thee can find release from thy sorrows 
 by viewing them as they dangle from their pegs."
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 15 
 
 Dorothy darted to the arm of her friend s chair, 
 and perched there, laughing, and shaking her. 
 
 "I shall see them for three days draped from 
 these shoulders," she declared. "I vow, Jack, 
 none of the city belles could hold a candle to you 
 if only you would show yourself. La! you should 
 see their powder and perfumes, and poker-made 
 curls ! Oh ! guess who was the belle of all the belles 
 of the Assembly? who but Peter Mintern s wife!" 
 
 "Our cousin, Susanne Marquand? But" with 
 a puzzled smile "she is married!" 
 
 "I think she forgets it when she can." And 
 Dorothy s shrug and smile brought a little frown 
 to Jaqcynthia s straight brows. "Married? Of 
 course she is! Only a married woman dare coquet 
 as she does! All the dandies wait on a word from 
 her. And no one remembers that her name ever 
 was Susanne. It s Susette, if you please! Her 
 dresses come from France, and she leads all the 
 fashions. Yet oh! you gray mouse, how you 
 could make her forgotten if you only would accept 
 her oft-repeated invitation and go visit her for a 
 season!" 
 
 "My poor child!" and the dark eyes were plainly 
 mocking now. "Has she sported a longer feather 
 than that in thy own hat? Or has thee a cavalier 
 who holds her fan too often?" 
 
 "La! She has done not a thing to me! But 
 she is the gayest flirt who ever flaunted her con 
 quests in Philadelphia. The women all wished 
 her back in Baltimore. They say she has broken
 
 16 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 up three engagements and laughs at it as a victory 
 over younger, prettier girls. And even though 
 she is a relation, you can t uphold her in that, Jack." 
 
 "I uphold her in nothing. I scarcely know her. 
 Once she visited here it was years ago. She is 
 cousin to my father, but he never approved of her 
 gay doings, or even of her marriage." 
 
 "La! She married well lots of money, and a 
 handsome fortune settled on her in her own right. 
 Peter Mintern makes a doll of her the dear, funny 
 little man knows nothing of those broken engage 
 ments. Still, they say he does know enough to be 
 jealous; they have terrific quarrels sometimes. 
 If they were not so wealthy, society would call them 
 scandalous." 
 
 " If thee has any further burden to unload regard 
 ing my father s cousin, it is as well to get it off thy 
 mind before he returns," observed Jaqcynthia, 
 with a trifle of scorn. "He would not relish the 
 thought that the conduct of a woman of his family 
 could be called scandalous." 
 
 "Temper becomes you, dear. I shan t say one 
 more word of the naughtiness of Susanne, or even 
 tell you of the fine Captain Gleason, of the British 
 Navy, who entertains on a beautiful yacht, and 
 who is her shadow, or of the gossip of the dashing 
 Dick Cardiff, of Baltimore, who is her husband s 
 kinsman; and who fights duels, wins at races, wins 
 at cards, and so it is whispered is the one gallant 
 Madame Susette has tried in vain to bring to her 
 feet!"
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 17 
 
 "A great victory, had she succeeded!" was the 
 scornful comment. 
 
 "La! Of course it would be! He is the hero 
 of a dozen romances. Betty is wearing the willow 
 for him, and they say he is handsome as a lover in 
 a poem!" 
 
 "Oh! enough of such charms! Thee knows how 
 I detest such blustering braggarts. Philadelphia 
 quality folk have done thee little but harm or so 
 it seems to me. To gamble, to race, and to murder 
 have become social amusements, have they? No 
 wonder the head of poor Susanne has been turned. 
 Has this fire-eating slave driver won thy fancy as 
 well as poor Betty Harding s?" 
 
 "I ve never had the luck to see him, but I should 
 love to! Betty declares he dances like an angel." 
 
 "In what part of the Testament does Betty 
 find record of dancing angels?" asked her hostess, 
 ironically. "I ve heard my father mention the 
 name of Richard Cardiff. He knew this man s 
 mother before she married the Marylander; and 
 one of the late runaway slaves came from a planta 
 tion adjoining his they caught the poor fellow 
 with dogs at the river s edge." 
 
 Her eyes had lost their serene calm, and were lit 
 with disdain. No Quaker meekness was now their 
 portion. 
 
 "La! You must not blame Beau Cardiff for his 
 neighbors dogs," protested Dorothy. "He is too 
 much beloved to be cruel himself." 
 
 "Beloved! Beau Cardiff!" repeated Noah Mar-
 
 1 8 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 quand s daughter with contempt. "Beau! that 
 means a dandy a creature of curls and ruffles and 
 perfumes! Too fine to do aught but twirl a cane 
 and learn new dances. And for such a manikin 
 girls go distracted!" 
 
 "His ears should be burning this morning if they 
 have half the blaze of your eyes, Jack. You snub 
 Abner Stornway, and all the other Quaker lads, 
 as too meek for human nature; and you disdain 
 the Honorable Richard Cardiff, whom you have 
 never seen, simply because he amuses himself. 
 Now, truly, Jack, what must a man be to win your 
 approval, and your yes ?" 
 
 " He must be only a man ! " 
 
 "Only!" 
 
 "He must be brave. He must do right as he 
 sees it, and care nothing for worldly opinions. He 
 must be strong to protect the weak, as my father 
 is strong. He must 
 
 "Oh, I see. No man who is of the world will 
 ever fill that list. Like your father, he must labor 
 though weighed down by wealth; and while you 
 prune, he must dig; and all must be Quaker gray. 
 Pink is the color of love, Jack; can you not find 
 room for one little strip of such tint along the gray 
 margin?" 
 
 Jaqcynthia only veiled her eyes slightly and 
 smiled at the fancy; smiled thoughtfully, as she 
 rested a firm chin on her hand, and gazed out un 
 seeing across the beds of springing green. 
 
 "Who knows?" she said, after a little. "It
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 19 
 
 may be a strip of crimson when it does come; the 
 pale colors mean little to me." 
 
 "Oh ! there is hope for you yet," laughed Dorothy. 
 "You have more fire than Susanne when you are 
 wakened enough to wither to a shred the wrong 
 man, or glorify forever the right one!" 
 
 "You are a crazy madcap," decided her friend, 
 tolerantly. 
 
 "Of course I am! And crazy folk must be 
 humored. Humor my fancy now, and let me have 
 those keys of the presses and chests. We ll have 
 such a junketing a wild masquerade. I truly do 
 need cheering up, Jack. The one man is coming 
 home this week is already in Washington on his 
 way from Jamaica; and father read me a lecture a 
 mile long about him. You must help me forget it 
 as quickly as possible." 
 
 "That thy father will have to repeat it?" 
 
 " He ll get tired repeating it after a while; that is 
 my one hope ! He has not a thing against Rob Kirkley 
 but that Rob is outside of father s limit of deplor 
 able worldliness." And Dorothy sighed dismally. 
 
 "Poor neglected maid! with only a dozen other 
 strings to thy bow. Here are the keys ; gather the toys 
 necessary for consolation. I have some slight busi 
 ness to look after, and then I will be with thee again." 
 
 Dorothy made a saucy little pout at the word 
 "business," and left the room, strumming the 
 guitar and singing: 
 
 I ll hang my harp on a willow tree! 
 And off to the wars again!
 
 20 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 that Friend Tabitha Morgan, who was housekeeper 
 and aunt of Jack, might know what disturbing 
 element had found entrance to their peace. 
 
 Jaqcynthia sauntered thoughtfully out into the 
 garden, a little wrinkle of perplexity between her 
 brows. Dorothy was always welcome, but at this 
 particular time 
 
 She caught sight of an elderly negro riding slowly 
 out from the stables, and lifting the gray skirt, 
 despised of Dorothy, she ran, fleet as a deer, through 
 the gate and down the lane. 
 
 "Ezra! Ezra! Wait!" she called, as she ran. 
 And the old man halted in wonder at her haste and 
 evident stealthiness ; for she was running with 
 lowered head along the hedge. 
 
 " Oh! I am so glad thee has not gone," she gasped. 
 "Dismount, Ezra; I must speak with thee, and it 
 is as well even Aunt Tabitha knows nothing of the 
 reason ; she is always alert and anxious when father 
 is away." 
 
 Ezra slid from the saddle and turned his horse 
 deftly, close to the hedge. 
 
 " It is the old story, Ezra," she said, in a low voice. 
 "Dorothy Starr is here, and I may not be able to 
 attend to the strangers when they come. If so, 
 the task will fall to thee, and it is better that thee 
 go nowhere from the house until their arrival. 
 Send one of the younger men on thy errand, and 
 keep watch thyself. The strangers are not quite 
 the ordinary sort; one looks like a gentleman, and 
 the other may travel as his servant. With father
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 21 
 
 at home, it would be very simple. But Dorothy 
 Starr would be curious over such an arrival. The 
 need is great for extra care ; spies have been watch 
 ing each boat along the Delaware these late days." 
 
 Ezra nodded his comprehension of the situation. 
 
 I meet them at either pike if you know which ?" 
 he hazarded. 
 
 "But I do not know not even if they come by 
 boat or on horseback. Only that they come from 
 Maryland; and together if possible; and that one 
 of them could easily travel as a gentleman to quiet 
 suspicion. On their arrival we can judge by their 
 appearance what means will be best to adopt for 
 their welfare. Thee must watch well to-night." 
 
 "I watch," agreed Ezra. "Mistress Tabitha 
 not know?" 
 
 "We dare not trust her; she becomes too nervous 
 when such things occur and father away. Her 
 very anxiety to help would betray her to Dorothy. 
 No one will be told but you." 
 
 Ezra nodded his head, though looking dubious, 
 and the girl sped back along the hedges to the 
 garden as Dorothy appeared in search of her 
 her arms full of gay stuffs from long ago voyages 
 over seas, and a rope of corals dangling from her 
 upraised hand. 
 
 "It is truly flying in the face of Providence, 
 Jack, to keep such beauties hidden in old chests. 
 Why were you given a seafaring uncle and a courtly 
 great-grandmother, if not to deck yourself in their 
 spoils? Aunt Tabitha says you were let play with
 
 22 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 the corals as a child; but I mean to make you gay 
 with them as a woman." 
 
 "Thee would have me called up before the elders 
 for unseemly decking of the perishable body?" 
 queried her hostess, with assumed alarm. "And 
 I am to risk all that so that thee may have some 
 one to deck as a doll of the world ! " 
 
 Yet when the sun dropped down back of the 
 western hills, and Dorothy s guitar sent softest 
 melodies over the garden, it was no gray-garbed 
 Quakeress who sat beside her and listened; but an 
 enchanting figure in a white satin gown of two 
 generations before. The treasured corals were fes 
 tooned from white throat to belt, and one of the 
 sea chest Roman scarfs draped over the dark hair. 
 
 "You look like a picture without a frame, Jack. 
 Only much much better! For one can reach out 
 and touch your hand, and one knows that the red 
 of your lips is not paint." 
 
 Jack tossed aside the decorative scarf with a 
 shrug of petulance. 
 
 "I have no wish to be looked upon as a picture, 
 or part of thy little stage plays. Why not take 
 people as they are? The playhouses of the cities 
 make thee wish to gild us all and frame us." 
 
 "Honest, Jack, would you not like to see a real 
 play instead of reading it from a book? or a real 
 dance with a real gallant for a partner?" 
 
 "I The play might be very well for once, 
 
 but- 
 
 "But the dance you will not acknowledge yet.
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 23 
 
 Oh, Jack, Jack! And you were so surely made for 
 dancing. Come ! 
 
 The guitar was tossed aside as she hummed a 
 dancing air, and circled Jack with her arms, drag 
 ging her gayly into step, and whirling across the 
 polished floor of the living room, overturning Aunt 
 Tabitha s workbasket, only to be stopped midway 
 in a mad gallop by an exclamation from that horri 
 fied lady in the doorway. 
 
 "This unseemliness of demeanor I have no time 
 at present to reprove," she stated, in reply to 
 Dorothy Starr s rather flustered explanation. " But 
 Jaqcynthia has other duties than dancing. A 
 traveler from a distance is waiting at the garden 
 gate to see Noah concerning horses for himself and 
 servant one they have ridden has gone lame, and 
 as the horses are thy care in the absence of thy 
 father, thee had better see the man. He is waiting 
 out there with Ezra." 
 
 "A traveler from a distance! And a young 
 man!" whispered Dorothy, gleefully peering through 
 the window to catch further glimpse of the stranger. 
 "Oh, Jack! he is the answer to my prayer. Keep 
 him for supper!" 
 
 The color won by the dance slowly receded 
 from Jack s cheeks as she glanced from her aunt 
 to the girl, as though measuring chances and 
 obstacles. 
 
 "Is he is he a gentleman?" she asked, after a 
 moment of indecision; and Dorothy nodded assent 
 vigorously, and beckoned her to her own coign of
 
 24 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 vantage; but Jack shook her head and moved 
 toward the door. 
 
 "I shall speak with him concerning the horse," 
 she said, quietly. " But if he wishes especially to 
 see my father he must wait over for his return. If 
 so, we will have a guest, Aunt Tabitha. Thee 
 always welcomes a new one at the table." 
 
 " But a young man and thy father from home ! " 
 
 " It has happened before. Since he seems a gen 
 tleman, if he needs to stop over we must, at least, 
 ask him." 
 
 The little exchange of words had steadied her 
 voice, fluttering a trifle at first perhaps from the 
 dance. It steadied her hand as she opened the 
 door and passed along the garden path to the gate. 
 
 The thought of the stranger, and his probable 
 business there, drove from her mind her own unusual 
 attire, and she dragged the white satin of her 
 grandmother, unnoticed and forgotten, over the 
 white flagstones of the paving. 
 
 But not unnoticed by the stranger at the gate! 
 His servant, watched dubiously by Ezra, looked 
 nervous and frightened ; the horses appeared fagged, 
 and the master impatient. But at the swish of 
 satin under the cedars he turned quickly, and the 
 woman he saw there drove both impatience and 
 weariness from his eyes. For an instant he stared 
 incredulous. 
 
 "This is never my Quaker maid !" was the 
 swift certainty touching his thoughts. 
 
 But the next instant, as he swept the pine needles
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 25 
 
 with his hat, and bowed low, and heard her words, 
 he was undeceived. 
 
 "Thee has ridden from the South?" she asked, 
 guardedly. 
 
 "Yes, madam; I 
 
 "It is not so wise to come by land; the risk is 
 greater," she said, reprovingly. "I expected thee 
 by nightfall. My father has been called away for 
 three days, and left the charge of thee and thy com 
 panion in my hands. I have a guest who has seen 
 thy arrival, and concealment is out of the question. 
 It is best that thee enter the house as a visitor who 
 waits my father s return for some business project. 
 Only Ezra and myself will know who is entertained 
 here; he will look after the animals and this man, 
 in case of pursuit." 
 
 "Oh-h! in case of pursuit," he repeated in auto 
 matic fashion, regarding her with questioning 
 directness. "And in case of pursuit, what would 
 happen if I were found here?" 
 
 "They will not find thee," she said, with a slight, 
 reassuring smile, meeting his eyes for the first time, 
 and a trifle confused by the intent regard bent upon 
 her, which caused her also to remember at the same 
 moment her unusual attire. "Ezra, thee knows 
 what to do with the animals; cover their feet and 
 lead them by the creek to the far pastures. Water 
 is best to drown the scent for trailers," she added, 
 casually, to the man beside her. " Please to come in." 
 
 "Fo Gord s sake, Mahs Dick!" whispered the 
 colored boy, imploringly.
 
 26 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 For one instant the man hesitated and glanced at 
 the frightened boy ; then back over the road he had 
 come, and then down at the wonderful girl who had 
 expected him, who promised that no pursuers should 
 find him who smiled at him pitifully with the most 
 wonderful eyes he had ever seen, and who waited 
 for him to walk beside her. 
 
 The last clause was the final temptation; and he 
 walked through the gate with the reckless deter 
 mination that one hour in Eden should be his, let 
 half a county pursue. 
 
 *We can decide concerning the horses and thy 
 journey when we have chance to speak alone," she 
 remarked, as his feet kept pace with hers, slowly 
 as possible. "If it is necessary to go on to-night 
 we will arrange it after the others are asleep. But 
 in the meantime I must introduce thee; and an 
 assumed name and business were wise." 
 
 "You are a guardian angel to plan thus for my 
 safety," he protested, keeping hidden, as best he 
 could, the amazement her every sentence increased. 
 
 "I could truthfully say I am going north on 
 on a matter of personal business; that my horse 
 has gone lame, and that I hope to buy another from 
 your father. As to the name, if I am to assume 
 one at your bidding, will you be so amiable as to 
 suggest one?" 
 
 "7f Oh!" she began deprecatingly ; and then 
 two roguish eyes at a lattice put a wild thought in 
 her mind with which to tempt the fates. 
 
 The colored boy had said "Master Dick." Why
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 27 
 
 not for once play a trick on Dorothy, who was so 
 full of tricks for other people? "Master Dick"! 
 
 Why not Master Dick Cardiff the beau, the 
 dandy, the heart-breaker whom Dorothy longed 
 to meet? It would be only for a few hours and 
 who would ever know? She glanced again at the 
 handsome fellow beside her; he was really more 
 than handsome he had the subtle air of quality. 
 It would certainly serve. 
 
 The fancy flashed like lightning through her 
 brain as Dorothy nodded and grimaced, and patted 
 her hands mischievously between the half-opened 
 lattice. But that the stranger beside her was so 
 occupied with his hostess, he must have seen that 
 pantomime, and covered Jack with confusion. 
 Dorothy should pay for it! Since she was so in 
 love with tricks and play-acting scenes, she should 
 have one! 
 
 "You come from the South," she said, thought 
 fully, as they reached the steps "from Maryland?" 
 
 "You guess rightly, madam." He stared at her 
 in mute question. 
 
 "I know of but one name there likely to fit thy 
 age and and general appearance. It is a name 
 outside of our world and will hurt no one if thee 
 should use it for a day. It is that of the Honorable 
 Richard Cardiff he is the owner of a great planta 
 tion there toward the east. My aunt is coming 
 will the name answer?" 
 
 "Extremely well," assented the stranger, after 
 an incredulous stare. "I chance to know the
 
 28 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 plantation you mention, and will endeavor not to 
 disgrace the name you have bestowed upon me." 
 
 Jack shrugged her shoulders slightly; she had 
 little interest in guarding Beau Cardiff s name. 
 
 Her cheeks flushed slightly at the daring thing 
 she was about to do. And the curious, intent gaze 
 of the stranger, when she chanced to lift her eyes 
 toward him, in no way lessened her color. How 
 could she ever explain should occasion arise 
 that she was using his misfortune for a trick on a 
 mischievous girl? 
 
 A moment of fear touched her as she thought of 
 what Noah Marquand would say at this use of the 
 trust he had left to her ; but it was too late to repent. 
 Aunt Tabitha was coming slowly toward them 
 along the veranda; and Dorothy, all ears and eyes 
 behind the lattice, almost cried aloud in her aston 
 ishment as the very handsomest man she had ever 
 seen bowed low before Aunt Tabitha Morgan, and 
 was introduced as Mr. Richard Cardiff, of Mary 
 land! 
 
 "Oh! oh! oh!" she gasped, dismally. "What 
 luck! what luck! The greatest catch of the season, 
 and here I am in this old lutestring dress, when I 
 might as well have brought my silk of the rosebud 
 pattern!"
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 29 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The colored boy followed Ezra reluctantly to the 
 barns ; looking back over his shoulder with troubled 
 glances toward the two figures moving up the path 
 from the cedars. He was clearly less at ease than 
 the white man, and was also acutely conscious that 
 Ezra was giving them both curiously critical obser^ 
 vation. 
 
 "I reckon yo all ain t touchen ground enough 
 for houn dogs to trail after," observed Ezra, casu 
 ally. "If so be, I ll look up another pair of shoes 
 for yeh. My boy William s shoes jest about fit you." 
 
 "Houn dogs good Lord!" gasped the Mary- 
 lander, stopping short, and eyeing Ezra with horror. 
 "Yo don t allow they ll trail me an Mahs Dick 
 with houn dogs?" 
 
 "They certainly did with the last men who got 
 ovah the line, though they got away all right," he 
 added, as he noticed a gray pallor replacing the 
 mahogany tint of the stranger s face. "Oh! yes, 
 they got away all right. See that fringe of elder 
 bushes on yon side the mill dam ovah thah? See 
 where them topply ones touch the wateh? It was 
 some cold then frosty nights. But them men 
 stood thah a whole day an part o the night, while 
 the sheriff an his men pranced around this place 
 with them bloodhoun s, an nevah got the scent 
 once!"
 
 30 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 "An an yo all say as how they got away, 
 after all?" 
 
 "Yes, indeedy! cut sticks fo Yo k State soon 
 as we let em go. We hauled them twenty mile 
 befo we let them put foot to the groun . One o 
 them boys nigh about smothered that time under 
 the grain sacks we piled on top o them." 
 
 "Good Lord!" gasped the other, in a dwindling 
 whisper of terror, "I done warn him not to lay 
 over. I done tole him we ought to keep a-moven . 
 Then that fine quality lady come a-bidden him 
 welcome an heah we is!" 
 
 "We easy keep yeh out o sight, all right," said 
 Erza, reassuringly, as he pushed some grain sacks 
 from against a wall in the granary and lifted a 
 board, showing a boxlike space between the beams. 
 "This heah floor is double; so is the ice-house wall; 
 an Miss Jack will look aftah the othah man jest 
 as safe!" 
 
 "I I think I d like mighty well to get to the 
 house an see the othah man Mahs Dick," re 
 marked the colored boy, hesitatingly. "I I got 
 his portmanteau in charge, an he sure want that!" 
 
 " Penn can tote it in to him. Heah ! you Penn ! " 
 
 A little darkey slid around the corner and reached 
 for the portmanteau, but the Marylander was 
 ahead of him. 
 
 "I don t dar let this go out of my sight till it s 
 safe in Mahs Dick s hands," he insisted. "Yo 
 all go ahead an show me the way. Mahs Dick 
 ain t nevah used to fix for dinner thout me."
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 31 
 
 Ezra stared, and his mouth widened in a doubt 
 ful grin. 
 
 "Yo is certainly slick," he observed. "But 
 out heah at the barns is whah yd 1 need to be if 
 trouble comes. Miss Jack tole me plain to look 
 out for yo all an the hosses. How I gwine look 
 after yeh an yo all in the big house?" 
 
 "Oh, I come back heah quick as I m let," prom 
 ised the other promptly. "Yo Mistess Jack boss 
 yo all an this heah place, but / got to take my 
 orders from my Mahs Dick fo the time beinV 
 
 "Humph!" grunted Ezra, ironically. "Yo suah 
 is a high flyer, Mistah Man! But on this heah 
 place you ll find Miss Jack bosses yo an yo Mahs 
 Dick, too! Yes, sah both of yeh!" 
 
 The stranger made no reply; only motioned the 
 little darky to show him the way. Ezra surveyed 
 his retreating form quizzically. 
 
 "Yo flies higher than any I ve seen ride this 
 pike fo many a day," he repeated. "But yo 
 comes the same way, and yo goes the same way. 
 An the sooner yeh learn the Ian mark, the better for 
 yo both. Nevah fixes fo dinner thout help. Huh!" 
 ****** 
 
 When the Honorable Richard Cardiff was ushered 
 into a great, airy bedchamber facing the south, he 
 found the colored boy waiting, gray with terror. 
 
 "Why, Nat!" 
 
 But Nat held up his hand warningly, and moved 
 to the door, peering down the hall after the disap 
 pearing maid.
 
 32 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 "Be keerful what yeh say, sah!" he whispered, 
 fearfully. "We re in a tight place a mighty 
 sight wuss than yo know. Every wall heah is 
 double, an every floor is twins. The sheriff raids 
 it regular fo some sort o highwayman or robbers, 
 
 o n " 
 
 evil 
 
 "You re crazy, Nat! This thing has turned 
 your head." 
 
 " Turned my head ! Good Lord ! I ve done heard 
 enough in ten minutes to turn King Solomon s 
 head / have! How d yo like to be stood in a 
 mill dam a day an a night with only yo head above 
 watah and it icy? an houn dogs prancen aroun 
 in plain sight a-hunten yo trail? an the sheriff 
 
 "What gibberish!" 
 
 "An grain sacks piled on top o yo full o 
 grain! twenty miles in a wagon!" shrilled Nat, in 
 terror. "An* that ole niggah says right out plain 
 an a chucklen ! that yo may be my boss, but 
 his young Miss Jack boss us both till we get out o 
 heah." 
 
 That s not so unlikely, either," remarked Mr. 
 Cardiff, with a curious smile. But Nat was not to 
 be reassured thus. 
 
 "I tell yo solemn, Mahs Dick, we re in a tight 
 place," he repeated, emphatically. "This heah 
 house is is a sure enough hiden place fo highway 
 robbers and sich like; an they ve jest mistook us 
 fo some o their gang! Good Lord! / felt shaky 
 the minute that lady walked down thah so calm 
 an sweet, an tells yo she s been expecten yo .
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 33 
 
 Expecten yo ! How she know yo boun fo heah 
 at all when yo nevah know it yo own self? She s 
 a waiten fo yeh! Huh! Yo certainly gwine to 
 fin it s bad luck a-waiten fo yo at that gate. I s 
 dead scared that ole niggah ask me yo name, an 
 he s boun to." 
 
 "Tell him Richard Cardiff. " 
 
 "Fo Gord s sake, Mahs Dick! Yo ain t nevah 
 done took that risk! Not till yo heah if if yo 
 killed yo man or not!" 
 
 "The risk is done took, Nat," said the other, 
 with a shrug. " We may have to make a run to get out 
 of it ; so hold yourself ready. But for a few hours, 
 at least, I stop over as a guest of the Marquand 
 family." 
 
 "Family!" groaned Nat, as he picked up the 
 coat of the Honorable Richard Cardiff, and fell to 
 brushing it with aggressive digs of the brush. 
 * Family! The whole enduren passel o that family 
 am jest one lady in a ghostly white dress. I wish 
 to the good Lord Mahs Kirkley s hoss had tumbled 
 him in a ditch afore he evah had a chance to go 
 tellen yeh ary word o Quaker gal beauties along 
 this heah road an yo this minute in trouble 
 a-plenty along o ladies doen s!" 
 
 "Nat!" 
 
 "I I beg yo pahden, Mahs Dick!" stammered 
 Nat, as the eyes of the other flashed on him like 
 blue lightning for an instant. "I s a plumb scared 
 niggah I is! I s scared enough while we was 
 a-moven ; but I s dead scared now yo stop in yo
 
 34 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 tracks, and tell folks yo Dick Cardiff. They ll 
 track yo suah as death, Mahs Dick! an then what 
 use maken the run we made? If the worst does 
 happen yo taken to the road gwine convict yo 
 suah. It s the worst break yo evah did make, 
 ceptin only yo stoppen ovah heah without rhyme 
 or reason!" 
 
 "Now that you ve eased your mind, Nat, you 
 might give some attention to the boots," remarked 
 Mr. Cardiff, as he adjusted his cravat with scrupu 
 lous care. And Nat, with a helpless sigh of resigna 
 tion, bent to the work. 
 
 No more words were exchanged between them; 
 but when the maid came to announce tea, Nathan 
 promptly repacked the portmanteau, preparatory 
 to flight, and as he crossed the wide veranda on his 
 way back to Ezra he stopped under the shadows of 
 a honeysuckle vine and peered anxiously through 
 a window where he heard voices and laughter. 
 
 The guests of Jaqcynthia were gathered about 
 the tea table, and Mr. Cardiff was proving the most 
 entertaining of gentlemen. Dorothy Starr was 
 fairly bubbling over with delighted vivacity, and 
 Aunt Tabitha was smiling sympathetically at some 
 gay recital of his. 
 
 The young hostess was the only one of the group 
 whose interest in the stranger had an alert, anxious 
 tendency; in fact, her usual serenity had given way 
 to a sort of tremulous uncertainty as the moments 
 passed and she saw the others held by the charm of 
 a manner new and strange to her experience.
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 35 
 
 His discourse was, in the main, directed to Aunt 
 Tabitha and the ever-responsive Dorothy; yet ever 
 and again his eyes would turn to Jaqcynthia in a 
 penetrating glance of unspoken confidence, strangely 
 disquieting to that usually serene person. 
 
 She was beginning to anxiously regret having 
 entered upon this foolish escapade the little trick 
 of the name with which to cheat Dorothy for one 
 little evening. 
 
 And how gayly he accepted the situation! How 
 care-free and debonair his manner as he assumed 
 the name and rank of the most dashing beau of 
 two cities! 
 
 There were moments when she was forced into 
 admiration of his tact as he avoided most skillfully 
 all but general topics far removed from his jour 
 ney, its destination, and its delays. 
 
 But there were other moments, when he turned 
 his eyes upon her in that quietly smiling way, that 
 she felt a touch of fear, as though she had let herself 
 be drawn into the outer circle of some whirlpool 
 whose force or depth she could not gauge. 
 
 Nathan, under the shadow of the honeysuckle 
 vine, shook his head distrustfully as he noted those 
 glances of his master. 
 
 "Humph! petticoats! I reckon that settles it," 
 he muttered, as he slipped quietly down the steps. 
 "I reckon the sheriff cotch us right heah if he s so 
 minded ! By the signs o things we re planted right 
 heah fo a week." 
 
 "The signs o things" did not escape the astute
 
 36 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 Dorothy, as she by chance caught one of those 
 strangely confidential, yet deferential, glances from 
 Mr. Cardiff to Jaqcynthia. Elated as she would 
 have been over the idea of Beau Cardiff at her own 
 chariot wheels, yet her dream of a romance for Jack 
 was uppermost in her mind and she caught de 
 lightedly at the luck the fates had sent. 
 
 Yet she could not but wonder that her friend was 
 so strangely unresponsive to the brilliancy of the 
 stranger ; not the silent unresponsiveness of Quakerish 
 repose, but a silence palpitating with feeling, and 
 tinged at times by faint flushes creeping upward 
 from the white throat. 
 
 Dorothy observed that the flushes invariably fol 
 lowed those glances of Mr. Cardiff, and was jubilant 
 that Jack, though she might maintain her strange 
 reserve, could not at least feign indifference to the 
 man she had stated her absolute disapproval of so 
 few hours ago. 
 
 The early dusk had shown signs of settling over 
 the levels, and Aunt Tabitha was lighting the can 
 dles on the tea table, when the sound of a galloping 
 horse came nearer and nearer. Mr. Cardiff met 
 Jaqcynthia s eyes with a slight, reassuring smile, as 
 he arose quickly from the table. 
 
 "A runaway?" he asked, solicitously, and turned 
 toward the window. But Dorothy, who was there 
 first, uttered a little cry of surprised delight. 
 
 "It s Rob! Rob Kirkley! And his horse cov 
 ered with foam! How he must have ridden! Is it 
 a runaway ? Yes no
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 37 
 
 " The animal does look a trifle fractious," observed 
 Mr. Cardiff. " Pardon me I may fte of assistance." 
 
 Jack rose slightly, but sank back into her chair. 
 He had passed her before she could signify a remon 
 strance. 
 
 Robinson Kirkley! Was it not likely that he 
 would know the real Cardiff? The fear of it turned 
 her half sick with dread of the result of her own mad 
 folly. 
 
 And while Dorothy expressed amaze and delight, 
 while Aunt Tabitha ordered another cup and plat 
 ter and a fresh brewing of tea, Jaqcynthia Marquand 
 sat, rigid and wordless, waiting for the explosion. 
 
 But none came. Mr. Kirkley put out one hand 
 impulsively as Mr. Cardiff approached, but the latter 
 avoided it deftly and caught instead the restive 
 horse by the head. 
 
 " Rob! you never set eyes on me before!" he said, 
 quickly. "Here is the man for your nag. Prepare 
 to hear me presented as Dick Cardiff." 
 
 " By the Lord Harry! you deserve to be caught!" 
 muttered Kirkley between his teeth. "What the 
 devil do you mean?" 
 
 "I scarcely know. You may help me discover. 
 Sh-h! Here s the man!" 
 
 As Mr. Kirkley dismounted, he and Mr. Cardiff 
 bowed ceremoniously, and the man from the stables 
 led the dripping horse away as Dorothy ran down 
 the veranda steps. 
 
 "Oh, Rob! Mr. Robinson Kirkley, I should say. 
 We thought your horse was making you trouble;
 
 o 
 
 8 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 was it? This is Mr. Cardiff, and we are glad to 
 welcome you home again wanderer!" 
 
 And she spread her skirts in an exaggerated cour 
 tesy, to which the new arrival responded with his 
 best bow. 
 
 "My horse outdid himself because he carried me 
 to see you," he said, smilingly. "He was well-nigh 
 unmanageable, and Mr. Cardiff did me a service." 
 
 Through the window, Jack saw the two men 
 salute each other as strangers and breathed a sigh 
 of relief. The color had surged again into her 
 cheeks when Rob Kirkley bent over her hand and 
 assured Aunt Tabitha how pleased he was to be made 
 welcome again to The Cedars. 
 
 " The fact is, I let my horse cover the ground with 
 considerable haste to bring you a bit of rather 
 unpleasant news," he said, as he accepted tea and 
 cakes from Aunt Tabitha. "News connected with 
 your Baltimore relative, Mrs. Peter Mintern." 
 
 "Susanne?" queried Jack, while Mr. Cardiff 
 glanced over the edge of his tea cup with suddenly 
 narrowing eyes at Mr. Kirkley. 
 
 The latter drew a folded paper, odorous of the 
 press, from his pocket 
 
 "Yes," he said, "a rather sensational affair; 
 attempted kidnaping of that fair lady at their plan 
 tation of Bayside, two nights ago. The village 
 paper received an account of it by telegraph, and 
 the sheriff s man was having offers of reward printed 
 as I came past; by to-morrow morning every road 
 crossing the State line will be decorated with offers
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 39 
 
 for the apprehension of a gentleman who has out 
 ridden the Maryland officers." 
 
 Aunt Tabitha, to whom he had given the paper, 
 adjusted her glasses and uttered a cry of dismay. 
 
 "Perhaps it is murder! Jaqcynthia, does thee 
 see this awful thing? It says the reward for the 
 murderer is five hundred dollars!" 
 
 Mr. Cardiff replaced the pretty cup from which he 
 had been drinking, carefully, beside his plate. 
 
 " The murderer? " he said, while Dorothy jumped 
 from her chair and circled the table the better to 
 read over Tabitha s shoulder. 
 
 " Susanne murdered ! " 
 
 "No, no, Jack! It is a man who is shot see!" 
 And Dorothy held the paper, that all might read. 
 "Peter Mintern offers five hundred dollars reward 
 for the apprehension of the man who attempted the 
 kidnaping of Mrs. Mintern, from their estate at 
 Bayside, and who shot the gallant Captain Gleason, 
 of the yacht Rover, who rescued the lady from the 
 midnight marauder. Mrs. Mintern is too much pros 
 trated by the shock to describe the miscreant, but 
 it is hoped that the captain will soon recover suffi 
 ciently to do so." 
 
 " Kidnaped! And the gallant Gleason shot in her 
 defense!" said Mr. Cardiff, in blank amaze. "Well 
 by all the hem ! these seem perilous times when 
 such daring villains are abroad ! And you mention 
 that this lady is known to you a relative?" 
 
 "Mrs. Susanne Mintern is a relative of my father," 
 said Jack, with careful directness, as she recalled
 
 40 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 the converse of Dorothy a few hours ago ; and at the 
 same moment that little maid also remembered that 
 Richard Cardiff was by no means excluded from the 
 family connection! 
 
 " How strange that you should only just discover 
 that you are all related after a fashion, since you are 
 a nephew or is it a grandnephew? of Peter Min- 
 tern! You Why, you must know the man who 
 was shot?" 
 
 Jack glanced at him in dismay appalled at the 
 horrible net she had spread for the feet of the 
 stranger. How how could he extricate himself? 
 
 But he returned her swift glance with a smile of 
 reassurance. 
 
 "Yes; I have met him often. He has been visit 
 ing with other guests at Bayside for the past two 
 weeks. I thought the party had broken up." 
 
 " This has made the most romantic ending possible 
 for the season." And Dorothy sighed and grimaced. 
 "What good fortune Mrs. Susanne does have!" 
 
 "Dorothy Starr! I am amazed that 
 
 "Yes yes I know, Friend Tabitha. You are 
 more than amazed you are scandalized, and 
 ashamed of me. But after being the belle of an 
 entire winter, to be kidnaped in the spring, what 
 luck for a woman ! It is enough to make her a belle 
 for the rest of her life!" 
 
 "Are you willing to be kidnaped in order to per 
 petuate your own belleship indefinitely?" asked 
 Rob Kirkley, aside. "And are you willing to for 
 give the man who does it?"
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 41 
 
 "It is unseemly to speak so of any man s wife!" 
 insisted Tabitha, firmly. "I beg thee does not 
 apply the term of belle to Jack s cousin." 
 
 "Your cousin?" And the eyes of Mr. Cardiff 
 lingered wonderingly on Jack s perplexed face. 
 
 " Does that seem so improbable to you city quality 
 folk?" demanded Dorothy. "Even we of the 
 fields do attend an Assembly sometimes." 
 
 " Any assembly would be graced the more by your 
 presence there," he said, with careless courtesy. 
 "But Mrs. Mintern does seem a world apart 
 from you!" 
 
 The latter part of the speech was to Jack, and 
 again that slight little flush arose to her face, and 
 receded, leaving it a trifle paler. 
 
 Rob Kirkley looked up sharply at the man s tone, 
 and then, glancing at Jack s face, he comprehended 
 somewhat the cause of things otherwise puzzling. 
 
 "You say there is no description of the Bayside 
 miscreant?" asked Mr. Cardiff, casually. 
 
 "None as yet," returned Mr. Kirkley, politely. 
 "But the offers of reward will circle the country 
 every stranger will be watched by the authorities." 
 
 "So if the man is in hiding he had better remain 
 hidden," suggested Mr. Cardiff. 
 
 "On the contrary," and Rob Kirkley met the 
 other s eyes squarely, "if he cares for his safety, I 
 should say for him to ride as fast and as far as he 
 could and to ride ahead of those offers of reward, 
 and not to risk passing one." 
 
 "One never knows," remarked Mr. Cardiff. "If
 
 42 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 it is the fellow s lucky day he ll clear all fences and if 
 it isn t he ll ride to lose, no matter when he starts." 
 
 "We should rather plan how the wretch could be 
 caught not how he should escape," remarked 
 Tabitha, severely. 
 
 "I should think," said Dorothy, "that Susanne 
 Mintern could give some sort of description of the 
 man and surely Captain Gleason could." 
 
 " The lady is prostrated, the gentleman wounded," 
 reminded Rob, who was regarding Mr. Cardiff with 
 sharp attention. 
 
 "Ah! and neither of them able to speak?" said 
 that gentleman. " It certainly is a complicated 
 case. If I thought I could be of assistance to the 
 family by going down there, I wonder if I could ride 
 it in a day?" 
 
 Rob Kirkley looked at him a moment before 
 making reply. "I have known it to be made in 
 eighteen hours," he said, coolly. " But it depends 
 on your horseflesh, and how well you know the roads 
 especially the short cuts." 
 
 "Exactly!" assented Mr. Cardiff, thoughtfully. 
 "And as I am not acquainted with the short cuts, 
 the railway would be the better plan. Yet they 
 will probably secure their man before I could reach 
 the plantation to start on the trail." 
 
 "They probably will have done so," agreed Mr. 
 Kirkley, politely. "And when Mrs. Mintern is able 
 to describe the fellow his case will be settled, unless 
 he gets out of the country at once. That reward 
 will inspire lagging justice."
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 43 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Jack listened, fascinated but silent, as those plans 
 concerning that unknown fugitive were discussed 
 around her. All her troubled thoughts were held 
 by that other fugitive opposite her, smiling and 
 apparently careless; yet she knew how greatly his 
 escape might be hindered by that offer of reward. 
 
 If all roads were posted with those bills, what 
 stranger would escape careful examination from 
 the authorities? Her startled eyes, with that 
 question in them, sought the stranger s, only to be 
 met again by that grateful, reassuring smile so per 
 plexing to her with its sense of dominating 
 courage. 
 
 She was appalled at the situation made possible 
 through her folly. Any instant some new compli 
 cation might arise something not to be smiled 
 down by polite phrases. 
 
 And Robinson Kirkley he would stay overnight, 
 of course. Her father would invite him if he were 
 there. It was only neighborly to invite him 
 eminently proper now that a young stranger was 
 a guest in their Adamless Eden. But the tradi 
 tions of propriety of her most rigid grandmother 
 would have been tossed aside by Jack Marquand 
 that evening, if only the fates had allowed her to 
 toss them. She would have preferred Rob a dozen 
 miles away, and Dorothy and Tabitha safe in slumber.
 
 44 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 Then, with Ezra and good horses to help, he should 
 ride far beyond those offers of reward. 
 
 "Mr. Cardiff, do you indulge in anything so 
 worldly as a cigar?" asked Rob, as Tabitha had 
 gone to her room, and the young people had stepped 
 out on the veranda. The moon was rising over 
 the river hills, and the garden looked a dream of 
 peace backed by the cedars. "Friend Jack never 
 objects." 
 
 "In that case And Cardiff looked at Jack, 
 inquiringly. 
 
 "Yes, we allow worldly pastimes to worldly 
 folk," she said, with a little absent smile. "Doro 
 thy carries here both her guitar and her play 
 books." 
 
 "The guitar! good!" decided Rob. "A guitar 
 is exactly what is needed for an evening like this. 
 If Friend Dorothy will look it up, while Mr. Cardiff 
 and I take our cigars to the garden 
 
 His one thought was to separate Cardiff from the 
 others by hook or crook, but he reckoned without 
 Friend Dorothy s flirtatious tendencies. 
 
 "Mr. Cardiff can smoke at ease on the veranda, 
 while you come and help me hunt the guitar and 
 the plays. Aunt Tabitha may lock them up, and 
 me with them, if I go unprotected." 
 
 Mr. Kirkley rose obediently. He perceived by 
 the way Cardiff settled himself in a great oak seat 
 on the veranda, after placing a chair for his hostess, 
 that there was slight chance of getting him alone 
 in the garden to listen to reason.
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 45 
 
 Yet the moment the two disappeared in search 
 of the guitar, the stranger arose quickly, as Jack 
 pushed back her chair and made an imperative 
 gesture bringing him to her side. 
 
 "The garden may, after all, be a more enjoyable 
 place for smoking," she remarked, with an attempt 
 at indifferent tones. But her eyes as they were 
 lifted to his were everything but indifferent they 
 were so charged with the command to follow her. 
 
 He cast a backward glance toward the living 
 room, and saw two heads bent together over the 
 guitar it was taking two to put in tune ; then down 
 to that wonderful figure in white, luminous against 
 the blue-black shadows, her head poised in an alert, 
 expectant way, enthralling to a man who saw in 
 her what this stranger evidently saw, or thought 
 he saw. 
 
 "My Quaker maid!" he murmured, softly, in 
 half derision of his possessive term. "My wonder 
 ful, entrancing puzzle of a Quaker maid!" 
 
 He lit the cigar, and then held it at arm s length 
 as he joined her. 
 
 "I only obey your order to smoke that I might 
 come away from the others and be alone with you," 
 he said, as he walked beside her. "If it is at all 
 offensive 
 
 " No, no ; it is a good excuse to be here. I thanked 
 Rob Kirkley for speaking of it. I am so very 
 anxious and I wanted to speak with thee alone. 
 If the sheriff should follow thy track, thee must 
 know the hidden ways to safety, so that even the
 
 46 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 other guests in the house will not know. At the 
 worst, I might have to trust Dorothy and Rob, 
 but my father never trusts any but the few who 
 know. I noticed the injury to thy arm is it serious 
 enough to cripple thee in case trouble should come?" 
 
 " I think not. A bullet grazed it enough to burn 
 a little and draw blood little more." And he 
 held it out for inspection. "I can still touch a 
 trigger or hold a horse with the hand. If it had 
 not been at the wrist, and the stained bandage 
 slipped down when I arrived, you would never 
 have known it was scratched." 
 
 "And they shot after thee!" she breathed with 
 an indrawn sigh of horror. "Yet" and her eyes 
 turned on him with a wealth of sympathy in their 
 depths "yet it were better had they shot thee 
 dead than to trail thee with the hounds and take 
 thee back alive a man like thee! How how 
 was the knowledge of the world gained by which 
 thee has blinded the others to-night? Thee! 
 so bound so barred from books so " And 
 she shook her head as though words were inade 
 quate to express the density of his limitations. 
 
 "Oh, books have helped me a little," he ventured, 
 lamely. 
 
 "But thy master he allowed it?" 
 
 "Allowed it! His manner of insisting was too 
 emphatic to admit of argument!" declared the 
 stranger. "Of course, I should rather have been 
 riding, or gone fishing; but I had to keep my nose 
 to the grindstone half the time at least."
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 47 
 
 "Ah! thee was trained differently from the others. 
 Thy thy appearance would warrant them in that," 
 she said, gently. " No man like thee has ever come 
 that road before. It seems marvelous to me 
 thy learning and it would be equally so to my 
 father. It were much better if he were here." 
 
 "Perhaps," assented the man beside her, but his 
 eyes as they lingered on her face expressed doubts. 
 
 "Thy man will be taken care of by Ezra," she 
 continued. " But this new trouble this watch 
 ing all roads for that terrible man will make it 
 difficult to get away. Yet perhaps thee should 
 try after the others are asleep. Thee heard what 
 Rob Kirkley said." 
 
 "Would you rather I should go now?" he asked, 
 gently. "Does it trouble you so much that I am 
 here? Say the word, and I will leave at once and 
 ride either way." 
 
 "Either way!" And she turned startled eyes 
 on him, and put out her hands in protest. "Thee 
 means 
 
 "I mean back across the line if it saves you a 
 moment s disquiet," he said, with terse directness. 
 "For some reason I do not understand, I see that 
 you are greatly troubled, and I will go away." 
 
 "But" 
 
 "I should never have stopped here," he broke 
 in, impetuously. "If anyone but yourself had met 
 me at that gate I should have secured another 
 horse, and been miles ahead of handbills before 
 this. Can t you won t you understand?"
 
 48 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 She stared at him in the strange half light under 
 the cedars. He could not see whether it was won 
 der or fear in those wonderful eyes. But the moon 
 light was full on his own face, and there was no 
 mistaking the gaze ardent, tender which he bent 
 upon her. 
 
 She stepped back, her hand thrown out, as if to 
 ward him off. Then it dropped to her side, and 
 she leaned against the great cedar, still staring at 
 him with wide, fascinated eyes. 
 
 " I know it is unpardonable in me," he burst out, 
 nervously. "An hour two hours and I speak 
 to you like this ! But a shot may end it all for me 
 on the road I am going. I may never have a chance 
 to say it again never!" 
 
 "How why does thee dare?" 
 
 "I will tell you why," he said, with almost rough 
 decision. "I ve had just one idea in my head since 
 I heard your voice. And if this streak of ill luck 
 goes by me I shall come back to tell you in a more 
 sane, orthodox way the thing I am blundering over 
 in this crazy fashion to-night. When you spoke 
 to me at that gate I knew it was all up with me 
 all up. When you told me you were waiting for 
 me expecting me I should have followed you, 
 though it had been the gate of hell you held open." 
 
 " Thee has no right " she began. 
 
 "No, no right!" But his eyes, with their steady 
 directness, their strange smile, made her drop her 
 own. "No right but that of the one man speaking 
 to the one woman and knowing her out of all the
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 49 
 
 world the moment his eyes met hers. I did not 
 know even your name then, or you mine ; but what 
 difference did that make? I knew you! Don t 
 shrink like that! I shan t say another word and 
 I shall ride away in the night." 
 
 Her face was turned farther away from him 
 shrouded in the shadows, her eyes still veiled by 
 their white lids. No guess could he make of the 
 expression there, when only the line of dark lashes 
 was outlined against her white cheek. 
 
 "It is good-by, my Quaker maid!" he said, 
 gently. "Never mind the safe hiding places you 
 would have found for me ; I will take my chance in 
 the open, my girl of all girls ! Oh, can t you see it 
 is worth having risked all I have risked to get here 
 and all I may risk if they catch me just to see 
 you as I have seen you pitiful, tender, alarmed 
 for me, the stranger at your gate? Just to dare 
 say to you what I am saying now, and just to ride 
 away with one wild hope for company the hope 
 and the determination to come back to you some 
 day, somehow! Good-by!" 
 
 With a gesture as of one who, with an effort, casts 
 aside irksome bonds, she stepped from the shadow 
 of the tree, her head thrown back haughtily, every 
 line of her figure expressing a protest too intense 
 for words. 
 
 As he bowed before her, she flung out one hand 
 imperiously toward the road; all the meek blood 
 of the Quaker smothered beneath her indignation. 
 
 He turned away, absolutely obedient. Yet, as 
 
 4
 
 50 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 she could see by the determination in his face, 
 absolutely set in his certainty that he would come 
 back some day, somehow would dare to come 
 back to her! 
 
 He had scarcely reached the central path of the 
 garden when, out toward the barns, a sharp com 
 mand rang out: "Halt, there!" Then a shot, 
 and a shrill cry of protest from Ezra. 
 
 Jack saw figures rush across the barn toward the 
 granary; and quick as light she sped along the path 
 and caught Cardiff s arm in a grasp of terror. 
 
 "Come," she said, guardedly. "Stoop that they 
 do not see thee from the lawn. It is the sheriff and 
 his men. I may not save thy comrade, but I can 
 thee!" 
 
 "No," he said, grimly, but closing his own hand 
 over her clinging fingers. "No, I shall not bring 
 blame or danger to you. If I have to go with them, 
 that ends it. But if you attempt to conceal me 
 and fail, your father would have every right to 
 blame me for placing you in such a position. If 
 they ve got my man they ll know I m here. Let 
 me go." 
 
 "Thee shall not go!" She had drawn him around 
 the shadowed corner of the veranda, away from 
 the moon s radiance, and the view from the lawn 
 by the barn. Dorothy and Kirkley could be heard 
 rushing down the front steps. Shrill tones of col 
 ored men, shaking with fear, cut across the deeper 
 tones of white men who were commanding and 
 threatening.
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 51 
 
 "Thee shall not go! That sheriff shall not find 
 thee here! If I let thee go out in their sight from 
 this house now it will close for always this one gate 
 of the underground railway for the slaves. My 
 father would never forgive me never! Why does 
 thee stare like that? Oh, come, come!" 
 
 "The underground? The escape for runaway 
 slaves?" he demanded, taking her hands in both 
 his and forcing her to look up at him. "For God s 
 sake! have you thought 
 
 "Yes, yes, yes!" she assented, tremulously, 
 scarce heeding his wonder or his strange looks. 
 " Come! No one shall tell! Rob will help if I must 
 trust some one. Only come at once !" 
 
 He looked down at her, almost smiling now, and 
 nodded assent. 
 
 "I told you there was no gate you would open 
 that I would not enter," he said gently. "Show 
 me the way." 
 
 She had opened a little door where an entry led 
 to the pantry, and, taking his hand, led him through 
 the darkness. There were turns to right and left. 
 There were descending steps, and very narrow 
 spaces in which to walk, then other steps to climb, 
 until he heard a door slide back instead of swinging 
 on hinges, and then he stood in an upper room, lit 
 only by the moonlight a bedroom, whose windows, 
 and one glass door opened on the veranda. 
 
 "I opened this door," she said, pointing to an 
 open space in the paneling in the wall back of them, 
 "that thee might know each outlet. Here is a
 
 52 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 candle; thee must have that to find the fastening 
 of the locks. If they search this room, the pantry, 
 or the living room, thee can overhear all that is 
 said from this hidden corridor and guard thy move 
 ments accordingly. This room is my father s; and 
 of all the men who have been hidden here thee is the 
 first to be trusted with the secret of the openings." 
 
 "And why trust me, after 
 
 He looked at her with significant meaning, yet 
 slightly smiling; even in the moonlight she could 
 see that smile, and her eyes flashed resentment. 
 
 " Because even in thy folly thee is not a coward ! " 
 she said, with hard directness. "Thee has a white 
 man s courage as thee has his outward semblance. 
 The other men who come are frightened slaves 
 whom we dare not trust, lest the secret be lashed 
 out of them if caught. I can fancy thee killing 
 thyself or thy pursuers, but never lashed into con 
 fessing." 
 
 "My Quaker maid!" he murmured low. But 
 she heard him, and drew back the hand he tried 
 to take in his. 
 
 "Here is the candle," she said, coldly. "Light 
 it, that I may show thee the lock." 
 
 He did so obediently, and held it inside the open 
 panel that no direct rays should touch the windows. 
 Silently and swiftly she showed where the spring 
 was hidden, and then stepped back and, without a 
 word, closed the door in his face. 
 
 A moment she stood there, half faint with the 
 sensations crowding upon her. The voices came
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 53 
 
 closer; she could hear Rob s in expostulation and 
 Dorothy s in echo of it; and she knew as well as if 
 she saw her Aunt Tabitha that at the first sound of 
 danger that lady had hidden in her own room in 
 the far wing of the house, and would only be of use 
 if she was kept out of the way. 
 
 She stepped out on the veranda, and the group 
 near the steps halted. 
 
 "Noah Marquand is from home," she said, clearly. 
 "What is thy errand? There is no need here for 
 firearms." 
 
 "There is need for law everywhere," returned a 
 gruff voice. " I am a deputy sheriff trailing a runa 
 way slave from Maryland. We lost track of him 
 back a ways, but your black man is hiding some 
 one and we mean to get our man." 
 
 "Why use powder when thee has thy dogs?" 
 asked Jack, contemptuously. 
 
 " Because some sort of blind bluff has been used 
 to throw them off the scent," said the officer, dis 
 gustedly. "They lost it three miles back; but we 
 know this is the trail the man was heading for, and 
 we don t mean to let up." 
 
 "You will speak more respectfully, at any rate," 
 said Rob Kirkley. "If Miss Marquand tells you 
 there is no slave hidden here you are bound to accept 
 her word." 
 
 "Thank thee, Friend Rob," said Jack, quietly 
 "but I have no idea of doing even so much as that. 
 I forbid them to enter my father s door in his ab 
 sence, that is all."
 
 54 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 "I ve a warrant to search any suspected build 
 ing," said the man, doggedly. 
 
 "And shoot down our men if they don t open 
 the doors?" 
 
 "It wasn t your man who was nipped," volun 
 teered the man who held two immense bloodhounds 
 at the steps. "And this one wouldn t have been 
 touched if he had stopped when told to." 
 
 "A man has been really hurt?" 
 
 "Very slightly," said the deputy. "But he 
 wasn t our man not tall enough by two inches." 
 
 Jack thought of that other man standing listen 
 ing behind the panels of his height above the aver 
 age. And her heart seemed to stop beating when 
 the man with the dogs spoke. 
 
 "You offered share and share alike of the reward," 
 he said, with blunt decision, to the deputy. "I m 
 out for my share, and I m not waiting for anyone 
 to take the lead. And here s my say : I saw a man, 
 fully two inches taller than that nigger, standing 
 with that girl in that room just before she stepped 
 out on the porch. It was only for a second, and 
 then the candle went out, and I couldn t see any 
 thing but her white dress. But the man was there 
 a tall man." 
 
 "Why, that " began Dorothy; but Rob s hand 
 
 closed on hers meaningly, and she was silenced, 
 staring at him in wonder, and then at Jack, who 
 stood, emotionless apparently as a white-draped 
 statue, looking down on them. 
 
 "This is my father s bedchamber," she said,
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 55 
 
 quietly. "No one else uses it. You can see it is 
 empty." 
 
 "Empty it may be now," conceded the man who 
 was out for the reward. " But I saw a man there 
 too big a man to mistake. Ain t you going to make 
 a search, Jim?" 
 
 " No, you re not," said Kirkley. " Miss Marquand 
 forbids it." 
 
 "But the law is above Miss Marquand, maybe," 
 retorted the man. "Why don t you give the word, 
 Jim? You ain t to be choked off by any high and 
 mighty airs of a pretty girl, are you?" 
 
 Kirkley turned angrily, but Dorothy caught his 
 hand and Jack called to him. "Rob," she said, 
 quietly, "what these men want to do thee must not 
 interfere with. The rudeness is the affair of Noah 
 Marquand when he returns. I will ask thee to take 
 Dorothy at once to Aunt Tabitha s room she needs 
 thee. I will attend to the rest." 
 
 Rob looked at her with quick comprehension; 
 she wanted Dorothy out of the way. A refugee was 
 sacred under that roof. She would prove herself 
 Noah Marquand s daughter. 
 
 "As you command," he said, simply. "Come, 
 Dorothy." 
 
 " Now, Ike, you tackle the room you thought you 
 saw the man in," said the deputy. And the next 
 instant the men and dogs had mounted the stairs 
 and filed past Jack into the silent, moonlit room. 
 
 The dogs sniffed about the floor in a desultory 
 fashion, and showed their indifference to the chase.
 
 56 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 "Strike a light, some one," said the fellow called 
 Ike. "I did see a light here just a flicker of a 
 candle for just a moment. Now look at the lay of 
 this room ! No one could leave it but through the 
 glass door to the porch or here into the hall. The 
 hall doors were both open, moonlight showing clear 
 through. No one could have crossed that hall 
 without being in our range. Now, where did that 
 man go?" 
 
 "Where did the candle go?" asked the deputy. 
 "No sign of that, either." 
 
 Jack stood silent, while the bloodhounds ranged 
 the room. Finally one of them stretched itself at 
 her feet a powerful brute, that caused her a shud 
 der of horror at the thought of the man only sepa 
 rated from them by the paneling of oak, and what it 
 would mean if he had to pit his strength against 
 theirs. 
 
 The others soon vacated the room, where no 
 slightest trace could be found of the fugitive. Ike, 
 with the deputy, led one of the dogs to the living 
 room, but met only disappointment. 
 
 " That girl upstairs knows more than she is telling 
 a lot more!" decided Ike. "There s a man here, 
 whether anyone else in this house knows it or not. 
 Chances are they don t. Look at that rig she s got 
 on! Looks a lot like a Quaker dress, doesn t it? I 
 tell you she is dressed for something special, and 
 there s a man in it a man in it! She was scared 
 sick when we led the dogs past her into that room. 
 I never took my eyes off her."
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 57 
 
 "Well," said the deputy, "them dogs are enough 
 to scare most women Quaker or any other sort." 
 
 "Shucks! She wasn t scared for herself not 
 for one minute. When one of them laid down 
 beside her she didn t mind him any more than a 
 kitten. It was for some one else she was afraid, Jim. 
 I m damned if I don t find out who it is! I d ha 
 won the office of sheriff myself instead of Kane if it 
 hadn t been for Marquand, and I owe him one for 
 that. If his daughter isn t hiding a nigger in this 
 house this minute she s hiding something worse- 
 some man who prefers the bedrooms to the parlor 
 
 "Oh, you re away off!" said the deputy, impa 
 tiently. "Why, that girl 
 
 "That girl is as much of a woman as most girls," 
 said the other, doggedly. "And the man she s, 
 hiding 
 
 " Let up, can t you?" growled the deputy, opening 
 and closing a closet door, and thus drowning the 
 sound of a quick movement back of the panels. 
 "How could a man be there without the others 
 knowing ? / thought I saw that girl in the white dress 
 alone in the garden just about the time you say you 
 saw her with the man in that room. And there s no 
 sort of use in you trying to make me think she has a 
 white sweetheart hidden there." 
 
 "Then it s a black one, that s all," said the other, 
 doggedly. "You can take your choice as to which 
 you think it is." 
 
 The two stepped out into the hall as a nervous 
 hand flung open the hidden door in the pantry, and
 
 5 8 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 Jack s stranger stood for a moment listening to the 
 steps and voices sounding along the lower veranda 
 and hall. The search had been given up, and the 
 men were shuffling down the front steps. 
 
 "Where s the other dog?" asked the deputy, as 
 they reached the lawn. 
 
 " Oh, it s still up in the room where the girl is," said 
 one of the men. "Ike s gone after it. I guess he 
 wants a chance to tackle her alone, anyway." 
 
 The words sounded clearly on the night, and were 
 followed by an empty laugh from one of the men 
 who, only by aid of the law, could ever have crossed 
 the Marquand threshold. 
 
 The speech and the laugh came up to Jack, still 
 sitting there alone, rigid, listening, yet heeding no 
 word of theirs. But the words also carried to that 
 side entrance where the refugee stood. 
 
 Swift as a grayhound, he mounted the back steps 
 to the veranda. But once there, he took the wrong 
 turn, and found himself on the opposite side of the 
 corridor from the room where she sat. 
 
 But the other man reached there first, and his 
 rough tones came to him as he crossed the hall. 
 
 "I just come back for that dog, miss," he said, 
 insolently. "The deputy has called us off, and we 
 have to give up. But I m bound to tell you one 
 fact : You may fool the rest, and you have ; but you 
 haven t fooled Ike Denny a little bit. / know that 
 man is here. He may be black or he may be white, 
 but he s here. Old Noah Marquand may fly high 
 but "
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 59 
 
 It was then that Jack shrank back against the wall 
 with a low cry of terror of protest, of supplication. 
 
 For a lithe, sinewy figure stood in the door facing 
 her, and unseen by the baffled detective, who knew 
 nothing of his proximity until he was seized by an 
 arm certainly not disabled by the burn of the bullet 
 he had mentioned. The man was lifted bodily, 
 jerked through the open door to the veranda, and 
 pitched recklessly over the railing almost on the 
 heads of the group waiting below. 
 
 "Oh, nothing can save thee now nothing, noth 
 ing!" moaned the girl, who had rushed forward, and 
 then crouched against the veranda rail, staring at the 
 confusion below and noting the deputy s quick rush 
 for the stairs. " It is all over over! Kill thyself 
 but never, never let them put hands on thee!" 
 
 A most strange smile of victory, yet of tender 
 ness, touched his lip, and he rested his hand for an 
 instant on her hair as she half knelt there. Then he 
 stepped back as he saw Kirkley approaching, star 
 tled by the wild yell of the man thrown to the lawn. 
 
 But the suspect held up his hand for silence as the 
 deputy rushed up the stairs and attempted to speak. 
 
 "I tossed your man down there because he in 
 sulted this lady by the same vile insinuation he 
 made to you in the living room a few minutes ago. 
 I know what it was and you know. In future, 
 try to find less brutal creatures to do your work, if 
 the law allows them to speak to ladies." 
 
 "But you?" said the other. "Where did you 
 come from? Who are you?"
 
 60 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 " I came from a smoke in the garden a little while 
 ago, and heard that man s remarks to you down 
 stairs. I am Richard Cardiff of Baltimore. I refer 
 you to Mr. Kirkley if you want further particulars. 
 Come, Miss Marquand; there is no need to be 
 alarmed. The man has only broken his arm, when 
 it should have been his neck. 
 
 But Jack heard nothing of his last words. When 
 Rob Kirkley and Dorothy rushed up the stairs she 
 lay on the veranda in a dead faint white as the 
 satin in the antique wedding dress she wore.
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 61 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 "By the Lord Harry! Won t you go now?" 
 demanded Rob Kirkley, next morning, as he tramped 
 the garden walk and glowered at Mr. Cardiff, who 
 leaned back on a bench, smoking contentedly, and 
 showing little but amusement at the impatience of 
 his friend. 
 
 "Why should I, when the game is up? I have 
 a good excuse now for staying over. Nat s leg was 
 lamed by the deputy s bullet." 
 
 "Lamed! It s nothing more serious than a cut 
 finger would be! You know he d be only too glad 
 to take to the road if you would let him. The poor 
 devil is just about scared to death." 
 
 " Urn ! " assented Mr. Cardiff. " But he ll not die. 
 And as for leaving, I can t do that until I see our 
 hostess. Did you not hear Miss Tabitha beg me at 
 breakfast to remain, for their safety s sake, until 
 Friend Marquand s return?" 
 
 Rob halted, stared at him, and threw up his 
 hands. 
 
 "And you mean to do it?" 
 
 "Why not? This is a pleasant corner of the 
 world, and I tell you the game is up. That sheriff 
 met me as Mr. Jenkens; the deputy as Mr. Cardiff. 
 If they get together and compare notes and 
 they ve no doubt done so ere this what s the use 
 in me wearing out horseflesh? I tell you the game
 
 62 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 is up, Rob. And I see now I was a fool to leave 
 the plantation as I did. It never occurred to me 
 that the clever Susanne would turn the tables on 
 me like this. You see, if they do find me, and I 
 have to go back, I can go now with a clear con 
 science, and with no awkward feeling of chivalry 
 to interfere in the matter." 
 
 "You forget; I don t see," contradicted Rob. 
 "You have not told me a confounded thing about 
 the matter but that you and another man had a 
 shooting match, and that you lit out to keep from 
 mixing up a woman in the case. I did not know 
 the man s name or any other facts in the case until 
 I struck the news in the village. Lord! Dick, you 
 could have knocked me down with a feather!" 
 
 "Urn! the facts." repeated Dick. "But I hap 
 pen to have some facts up my own sleeve. From that 
 printed account, Mrs. Mintern could not identify 
 the man in the affair. Do you see what that means ? 
 She does not intend to do so, neither does Captain 
 Gleason in which they both show their good sense. 
 It s our blessed Uncle Mintern, with his spasms 
 of jealousy, who is back of the reward. You can 
 wager all you own that Mrs. Susanne is not help 
 ing him any." 
 
 " I fail to see how that sort of a mixup with your 
 granduncle s wife gives you license to establish 
 yourself here as the guest of that wife s second 
 cousin," blurted out Rob, hotly. "If Jack Mar- 
 quand knew 
 
 "Easy easy, now!" said Mr. Cardiff, softly.
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 63 
 
 "What s the use of having friends if they can t 
 take you on trust occasionally? Don t worry, 
 Rob; I ll get out of the mix-up if I m lucky." 
 
 "Lucky! But if the man should die?" 
 
 "Well, he fired the first shot. If the worst does 
 happen, I should have to prove that much at least 
 by the fair Susanne. Why won t your Dorothy 
 let me see her?" 
 
 "Who?" asked Rob, with exaggerated dense- 
 ness "Your Aunt Susanne?" 
 
 "To the depths with Susanne! You know whom 
 I mean. Can she be ill? 
 
 "How do I know?" grumbled Rob. "Dorothy 
 gives me no more information than she does you, 
 but goes around looking wise and feeling important. 
 Does Jack guess the truth?" 
 
 "Not within a hundred miles of it, I am happy 
 to say." And Mr. Cardiff smiled oddly. 
 
 "Then I m up a stump," confessed his friend. 
 "When you were not to be seen, and she ordered 
 me to clear out with Dorothy, I thought she had 
 grasped the whole situation and meant to get you 
 out of the sheriff s reach. Queer things are told 
 of how people have seemingly dropped off the face 
 of the earth when they reach Noah Marquand s 
 boundaries, and I fancied she could have hidden 
 you if she had been so disposed." 
 
 "Indeed!" remarked the other, with lukewarm 
 interest. Rob stared at him sulkily for a bit, and 
 then blurted out his impatience. 
 
 "Look here! I don t know what your little
 
 64 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 game is; but you ve got to count me in. If you 
 can t trust me, you can t growl if I don t trust you 
 do you see? If you refuse to take to the road, 
 you can count on me planting myself right along 
 side till I see what you mean to do. I m in a devil 
 of a fog as it is." 
 
 "Sorry!" murmured Mr. Cardiff. 
 
 "Sorry the deuce! You re nothing of the kind. 
 You re fairly jubilant over something this morn 
 ing, though what the deuce it is I can t see. You 
 look to me to be in a pretty bad muddle, if you 
 only had sense enough to see it." 
 
 " Haven t an atom," confessed Mr. Cardiff. " I m 
 only waiting to greet our hostess, and after a little 
 talk I may see my way out." 
 
 "You d better find your way out before she finds 
 out what started you on this trip," suggested Rob, 
 darkly. "You gay blades across the line have 
 mighty little knowledge of Quaker rules of living. 
 Your name mixed up with their Cousin Susanne 
 would land you in their perdition mighty quick." 
 
 "Oh, it isn t so badly mixed up." But for the 
 first time a definite shadow settled on Mr. Cardiff s 
 face, and he rose impatiently. " I wish to Heaven 
 you d quit your croaking," he growled. "You re 
 bound to make things look their blackest." 
 
 "All right," said his friend. "But if they are 
 anything less than inky you d better confide in 
 yours truly. 
 
 But Mr. Cardiff tossed aside his cigar and stalked 
 down the garden path without deigning a reply.
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 65 
 
 Rob stared after him a full minute, and then, with 
 a gesture of decision, he wheeled, and started for 
 the stables. 
 
 "Where is Nat?" he asked, and that darky came 
 tumbling joyfully out of the granary at sound of 
 Kirkley s voice. 
 
 "Golly, but I is glad to see you, Mahs Kirkley!" 
 he half whispered, after looking around carefully. 
 "I ve been a-waiten fo jest this chance, I has! 
 Mahs Dick has me scared a most crazy with all his 
 doen s. Can t yo all get him away from heah, an 
 out on the north end o this road?" 
 
 "Not much use trying that," confessed Mr. 
 Kirkley. "And all we can do is to try and help 
 him out if they do catch him. So I m going to ask 
 you some plain questions, Nat. Did you see that 
 shooting?" 
 
 "Nary a sight! But I heerd em both." 
 
 "You heard the two shots? Then what?" 
 
 "Well, then the lady screeched no, she screeched 
 first, before the shots just before. That was 
 aftah Mahs Dick had gone through the arbah." 
 
 "What arbor?" 
 
 "The arbah at the side of the garden the side 
 where them saddle horses was tied." 
 
 "Ah! Whose?" 
 
 "Mahs Dick ain t tellen* yeh about them?" 
 asked Nat. 
 
 "No, he isn t. The chances are that he ll not 
 until it s too late to be of use to his friends who want 
 to help him. That s why I come to you."
 
 66 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 "Well, honest Injun, Mahs Kirkley, / not knowen* 
 a thing about the shooten - an that s a fact. 
 Mahs Dick ain t a-tellen me a word, an I ain t 
 a-asken nothen . He jest come back a-walken 
 sort o brisk, an mount his horse an say, Nat, 
 he say, I m fo across the line, an I ain t a-goin 
 to risk no steam cars; an you d better go back to 
 town. An I say, Not unless yeh drive me back, 
 Mahs Dick ; yo sure need me one side the line same 
 as the other. Then he callen me some sort o fool 
 not a-meanen no harm by it an I said I could 
 go along if my mare could keep up, an she could. 
 Then we runs into you at that tavern fo break 
 fast, an yo says we re travelen yo road, an yo 
 know all the rest cause yo ride with us. Yes, 
 sah; yo seen all the rest only excepten the most 
 portant part." 
 
 "And what was that?" 
 
 "That s when the fine lady heah meets him at 
 that gate, an him not aimen to stop only fo hosses, 
 an right off she speaks to him kine an soft, an 
 she says, says she: Light an walk in! An in 
 he walk, jest like a fly in a spider web. An heah 
 we is with our feet tangled good, an me with two 
 birdshot in my laig!" 
 
 "Hum-m!" Mr. Kirkley was giving little heed 
 to the recital after they had left that arbor. " How 
 did you happen to have the horses ready for the 
 journey, and your master s portmanteau?" 
 
 "Ain t yo hearen bout his leetle fly around 
 with Mahs Mintern?" asked Nat, in surprise. "No,
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 67 
 
 I reckon he ain t had chance to tell yo all that. 
 Well, that house party, a-breaken up an Mahs 
 Dick aimen to start fo the city in the mornen - 
 everybody else done gone but him an Captain 
 Gleason. An then that night somethen happen 
 to put Mahs Mintern in a rage with Mahs Dick. I 
 heard their voices most leven o clock cause I 
 was talken with Phebe under the library window, 
 an we thought everybody else gone to bed. An 
 then Mahs Dick walk out o that doah good an 
 mad, an I heah him say, Yo wrong, Unc Min 
 tern yo dead wrong! But I m goen jest the 
 same. An then he whistles fo me, an tells me 
 we goen to hit the road right then, an to pack an 
 saddle. Well, I all done packed, so I broke fo 
 the stable. Mahs Dick nevah go back in the house 
 at all jest tramp the lane till I tell him things is 
 ready. Then we gets into the saddles, an heads 
 fo the east." 
 
 "The east?" 
 
 "Urn," assented Nat. "We go two, three mile, 
 when I happen to mention, kind o careless, how 
 Mahs Mintern s Steve ain t no ways fitten to boss 
 the stable, cause thah s two hosses still standen 
 in the stalls with the saddles nevah tooken off yet 
 an one o them a side saddle, that alles has to 
 be girthed tight; an what yo think he do when I 
 jest made mention o that?" 
 
 "Well, what?" 
 
 "Mahs Dick stop dead in his tracks. He sot 
 thah thinken a minute, an then he says, Yo
 
 68 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 fool niggah, what yo been a-drinken ? Thah 
 wa nt no ladies out a riden , so thah wa nt no side 
 saddles on. But I p intedly held to it that thah 
 was a side saddle on the little black filly what makes 
 such good time by spurts. Then he wheeled around 
 an nevah left the lope till we was in sight o the 
 Mintern house again. Lights was all out, an he 
 slowed up an rode on the grass at side o the lane 
 as we come close. Then under the trees we sighted 
 two hosses tied, an no one with them. Mahs Dick 
 cussed right wicked as he gets down an han s me 
 his bridle, an stalks on right quiet toward the house. 
 I ain t a-seein him no mo till I heah that squak o 
 the woman, an then the two shots. An aftah 
 that we jest hits the road, an keep a-comen ." 
 
 "And that is all you know?" 
 
 "Every Gord s blessed word! An I wouldn t 
 ha been tellen that cepten fo that sheriff shooten 
 me las night. Some ways Mahs Dick bluff them 
 off, but they ll come back certain suah! unless 
 yo all can get him to clear out o heah on a double- 
 quick. That s why I m a-tellen yo all, in hopes 
 yo can Fo Gord s sake, who dat? " 
 
 A carriage was driving up the avenue of cedars; 
 not a private conveyance, but a rather dingy-look 
 ing affair, such as was for hire at the railway station, 
 ten miles across the country. A rather plump 
 little lady, with a profusion of fluffy, light hair, 
 lounged back on the cushions wearily, and turned 
 her head to speak to the colored maid as the car 
 riage wheeled into the lawn drive,
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 69 
 
 " If it ain t her own self, I m a coon!" gasped Nat. 
 
 "Herself! What do you mean?" 
 
 "Mrs. Mintern her own self! Good Lord! her 
 a-folleren Mahs Dick! If his Unc Peter Mintern 
 don t shoot him dead fo certain this time, I m a 
 ghost!"
 
 70 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 "He has asked three times to speak with you, 
 Jack, and I am at my wits end for further excuses." 
 
 Jack, lounging in her room, stared out across the 
 garden and pretended not to hear. 
 
 "And to faint just once in your life is not 
 such a terrible thing, lady mine. You need not 
 be ashamed that he saw you; you never did look so 
 handsome. To faint prettily is thought quite a 
 fine lady trick these days." 
 
 " I am no fine lady," declared Jack, "and I want 
 to know none of their tricks. What is it the man 
 wants to say to me?" 
 
 "How can I tell what a handsome man wants to 
 say to a pretty girl? But if any man threw another 
 from the roof for my sake, I suppose he d expect me 
 to have something to say at least, he d expect me 
 to be civil. Aunt Tabitha has asked him to stay 
 until your father comes home, so you might as well 
 see him first as last. He is talking with Rob in the 
 garden no, there he is on the varanda. Jack, 
 won t you be civil?" 
 
 What Jack might have said to this last entreaty 
 was driven away by a suppressed shriek from 
 Dorothy. 
 
 "Jack, as sure as I m a sinner, there s your kid 
 napped cousin, Susanne!" 
 
 Jack fairly reeled from the couch to the window.
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 71 
 
 All she could see was the carriage cover as it rolled 
 along the avenue toward the entrance to the lawn. 
 
 "Thee is sure?" she gasped. "Go greet her for 
 me; and and tell him to come to me, at once, in 
 the dining room." 
 
 "Friend Cardiff?" asked Dorothy, delighted. 
 
 "Mr. Cardiff yes. Say nothing to her of his 
 presence here not yet. Go go quickly!" 
 
 "At last I have my heart s desire," cried Dorothy, 
 dancing toward the door. "I wanted you in the 
 city, to beat her at her own game. But it is quite 
 as well if she comes to the country, so long as the 
 men are here." 
 
 She whisked out of the room, paused an instant 
 to speak to Mr. Cardiff on the veranda, and then 
 slackened her jubilant steps to a more stately gait 
 one befitting a mistress of ceremonies, about to 
 welcome the belle and toast of a season. 
 
 Jack was leaning against the casement of the 
 window, a great fear in her eyes, as Cardiff entered 
 the room and closed the door behind him. 
 
 "You are willing to speak to me?" 
 
 "She has come my Cousin Susanne!" 
 
 She looked quite as much like fainting as she had 
 the evening on the veranda. 
 
 " It can no longer be hidden ; she will tell them all." 
 
 "I think not," said Mr. Cardiff, quietly. "I did 
 Mrs. Mintern a favor once a trifle, yet she may 
 remember. If you will be so good as to let me have 
 a few words alone with her, I think I am quite 
 certain she will be our my friend."
 
 72 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 "Thee dares to risk that?" 
 
 " It is no more risk than to make a dash and take 
 to the road not so much, believe me. I could tell 
 you why; I meant to tell you this morning. But 
 they are coming, and there is no time. Only trust 
 me a little longer." 
 
 She turned and looked at him, and again the 
 quick flush touched her face, and only deepened as 
 she tried to suppress it. Her anger at her own 
 weakness was so intense that she felt she half hated 
 the man for his daring his smiling certainty that 
 his plausible words could win whom he would to 
 his cause. She felt as she had felt at the tea table 
 last night, when he fascinated the others and left 
 her a paling, flushing creature half afraid, and 
 wholly resentful. 
 
 Trust him after last night after 
 
 "It is no question of me trusting thee now," she 
 said, coldly. "It is only a question of thy own 
 safety; and it is for thee to decide. Thee can wait 
 for my cousin in the parlor." 
 
 She moved toward the door, her head up and her 
 face turned away. He should not fancy for one 
 moment that she cared more for his safety than she 
 did for the black man whom the deputy had hurt. 
 Of course, she never had cared more and yet 
 
 She met Mrs. Susanne Mintern on the veranda 
 steps, and greeted her with her usual quiet courtesy ; 
 while that lady to Dorothy s extreme delight 
 stared in amazement at the slender figure in the 
 gray Quaker dress.
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 73 
 
 "I vow, Cousin Jack, you have grown, at least!" 
 she laughed. "Gracious! you are taller than I, and 
 quite a woman! But why does Cousin Noah not 
 find prettier things than this for you?" And she 
 touched the sleeve of Jack s dress teasingly. " It 
 makes you look like your own Aunt Tabitha for 
 sedateness. Where is she? And where is Cousin 
 Noah? I have instant need of him to help me with 
 Peter Mintern. My nearest male relative is the 
 one I need to quiet his fits this time." 
 
 "Fits?" giggled Dorothy, who was divided in 
 her delight between Susanne s frankness and Jack s 
 wonder at this latest advent from the world of 
 fashion. 
 
 "Fits? Worse than that, my dear. This time 
 they are convulsions! He was jealous enough in 
 Philadelphia you all saw it. But just guess what 
 his latest craziness is. Unless I describe or name 
 the wretch who shot Captain Gleason, he will sepa 
 rate from me! The truth is, Jack, he has separated 
 from me for the twentieth time in three years. 
 But this time he is in a really frantic temper. Now 
 do you guess," she added, as she sank down on a 
 settee of the veranda, and flung her gloves and her 
 scent bottle and her wrist bag beside her emphatic 
 ally "do you guess what has driven me here?" 
 
 "Driven thee?" faltered her cousin. 
 
 "Just that! If I went to the town house he 
 would rave if I saw people and I should die if I 
 was in reach of them and could not see them! He 
 would have my every step watched there until I
 
 74 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 should feel haunted, he is so set on learning who 
 that man is as if I knew! But if he hears I have 
 buried myself here in the country he will know I 
 am deadly serious, and can t possibly be flirting. 
 Then, in a week or two with Cousin Noah to help 
 persuade me I may consent to forgive the Honor 
 able Peter his uncalled-for cruelties." 
 
 She lifted a dot of a lace handkerchief to her eyes 
 with her finger tips, sniffed a little, and then laughed 
 gayly. 
 
 "Oh, it will work, Jack! Don t look so horri 
 fied. It will work beautifully. It s no trick to 
 manage men, even your own husband, when you 
 know how." 
 
 Dorothy laughed with her, but Jack regarded her 
 with perplexity. Was this the woman he had just 
 said would perhaps remember a favor once done 
 her? How could this thistle-down of a creature 
 remember any duty? 
 
 "I did not mean to look horrified," she said, 
 quietly. "Will thee come within until a room is 
 arranged for thee? In a few minutes I will come 
 for thee," 
 
 "How ceremonious!" laughed Susanne. "It is 
 that Quaker gray makes such a demure mouse of 
 you, Jack." 
 
 " Perhaps it is," said Jack, as she opened the door 
 of the living room for her cousin. "Dorothy, I 
 shall have need of thee." 
 
 Then the door closed on Mistress Mintern, and 
 she cast a glance from the window to where
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 75 
 
 Mr. Kirkley lingered on the lawn. He was a good- 
 looking young fellow rather young, of course, 
 but in a dreary exile of this sort any kind of a man 
 was worth cultivating. 
 
 She crossed to the mirror over the mantel, flecked 
 some dust from her hat, smoothed her hair with 
 tender little pats, and gave a gurgling cry of terror 
 at sight of a man s face over her shoulder. 
 
 He had risen from a seat by the chimney, and as 
 he walked slowly toward her she retreated in white- 
 faced terror. 
 
 "For Heaven s sake Dick!" she exclaimed, and 
 stood trembling. All her audacity, all her little 
 coquettish airs were gone as she stood there swal 
 lowing, and half gasping for breath. "What 
 why in all the universe have you come here?" 
 
 " I might echo that question had I not just heard 
 you explain on the veranda why you have come," 
 he replied, grimly. "I stopped for a horse, but 
 I m going to stay until Mr. Marquand returns. So 
 if you fear your husband trailing you to find a cer 
 tain man, perhaps it would be as wise for your call 
 here to be of the briefest." 
 
 "Oh-h-h!" A slight rising inflexion gave a tan 
 talizing cadence to the prolonged vowel, as Mistress 
 Mintern half closed her eyes and regarded him in 
 a shrewd, significant way. "You are waiting for 
 Noah Marquand, but you took care to come visit 
 ing when he was away. So this is why ordinary 
 amusements could no longer interest you on the 
 plantation you wanted rarer game to stalk? A
 
 76 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 Quakeress! Lord! Dick, this is the richest joke of 
 the season! If only it were safe to tell of it!" 
 
 Fortunately it may occur to you that it is not safe, 
 remarked Mr. Cardiff. I would suggest that you tell as 
 little as you know of anything for some time to come." 
 
 "Are you threatening me?" 
 
 "Of course not. But I got out of your way once 
 took to the pike and rode like the devil just to 
 get away and I warn you I shan t do it again. I m 
 here first, Susanne, and I m here to stay." 
 
 The door opened, and Jack looked from one to 
 the other questioningly ; their voices had reached 
 her, but not the words. Mr. Cardiff was regarding 
 Susanne with a peculiar expression not at all that 
 of a suppliant. And it took all of Mrs. Mintern s 
 social training to gather her wits for the emergency. 
 
 "What a surprise to find Dick Cardiff here! 
 she remarked, as carelessly as might be. "You 
 know, of course, his relationship to my husband? 
 Quite a family party we will be. And your neigh 
 bor, Mr. Kirkley, whom I just met, is quite an 
 acquisition. Even a Quaker farm can t be very 
 dull with so many worldly folk here. Ready for 
 me, Jack? I m frightfully dusty." 
 
 Then Mr. Cardiff held open the door as she swept 
 past, and Jack avoided his eyes and ignored his 
 low bow as she followed. 
 
 Some way he had won Susanne to his cause ; but, 
 much as Jack might be amazed, she did not mean 
 to betray the slightest interest as to how it had 
 been accomplished.
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 77 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 How that day of Susanne s arrival passed, Jack 
 Marquand could never recall clearly. The night 
 and the morning had been filled with wonderful 
 illuminated moments and startling shocks of feel 
 ing, under all of which she was forced to appear 
 calm, unmoved an unemotional Quakeress. Yet 
 every fiber of her being throbbed hot with dread, 
 with anger, and with a strange wonder at herself 
 that the dominant idea of saving the man should 
 intensify, instead of diminishing, after her knowl 
 edge of his plausible acting to everyone even to 
 herself in the garden. 
 
 She recalled what Dorothy had told her of the 
 play-acting heroes of the theaters, of their coun 
 terfeiting the motions they did not feel, and her 
 face flushed hotly as she recalled how, for one brief 
 moment, his pretnese had appealed to her in an 
 answering thrill so new, so strange, so wonderfully 
 dare she even to herself say? wonderfully sweet. 
 
 She did not say it she did not even dare think 
 it. But that great radiance of the heart spoke for 
 her, under all her outward self-control, under all 
 her mocking impatience with herself, with him. 
 
 Could acting such as Dorothy told of cause a 
 man s face to pale as his had paled in the moon 
 light when he had so boldly dared to claim her as 
 the one woman? Yet had he not lied to everyone
 
 78 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 else about almost everything, and carried so well 
 the manners of truth that no one doubted no one? 
 
 She herself was at times almost convinced as she 
 listened to his easy evasions, and heard him put 
 aside queries causing her own heart to stand still 
 with dread lest by some forgotten thing he stand 
 confounded before them all. Had his words to 
 her in the garden been lies like the rest? 
 
 Many slaves more than she could count had 
 come that trail in the last few years. Twice there 
 had been women who looked entirely white; one 
 had bright, blond hair, and a complexion of milk 
 and roses, but she was a slave for all that, and flee 
 ing from a dreaded master. 
 
 Jack remembered that her father had seemed 
 very sorrowful over that case; it appeared that the 
 more white blood the more sad was the situation. 
 She told herself that this man, not only white but 
 of unusual education, was, even though born in 
 slavery, a man whom her father would have met 
 as a man one whom she had done no wrong in 
 helping; yet 
 
 Hedged in as she was from knowledge of the 
 world, no discussions had ever reached her of that 
 impassable color line between the races. Nothing 
 had ever occurred in her life to make her think of 
 it, until a wild primal emotion had throbbed for one 
 instant through her heart in response to his avowal 
 and appeal under the cedars. 
 
 And then! She knew her father s wide phil 
 osophy would have recognized in him a man and a
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 79 
 
 brother, but She grew rigid with terror, and 
 cowered from herself as she said, over and over, lest 
 she forget it for an instant: "A slave! A slave! 
 A slave!" 
 
 She was striving to bury all the Quakerish idea 
 of the equality of man under the code of the more 
 worldly creed, that the latter might serve as a safe 
 guard against the subtle, mesmeric bonds he had 
 flung about her in return for the freedom she was 
 helping him to. 
 
 "Now do you wonder that they call him Beau 
 Cardiff ?" demanded Dorothy, who was scorching 
 her pretty fingers with a hot poker in the endeavor 
 to arrange ringlets as irrisistible as Susanne s fluffy 
 tresses. "Rob is fine; but he can t compare in 
 quality airs with the Honorable Richard Cardiff. 
 Look at Mrs. Mintern with him on the lawn. I 
 heard she set her cap for him in Baltimore and 
 failed. It does not look as if she is failing now." 
 
 Jack glanced where Dorothy pointed, and set 
 her teeth grimly for an instant. 
 
 From a garden seat, Susanne was laughing up 
 into Cardiff s face in a strangely tantalizing man 
 ner. He had just joined her, and stood a few paces 
 off, leaning against a vine trellis and looking down 
 at her with an unmistakable frown on the face 
 Dorothy had declared so handsome. He held a 
 slender switch in his hand, and threshed his riding 
 boot with it impatiently. His manner had no 
 longer the easy suavity heretofore distinguishing 
 him even when compared with the elegant Kirkley.
 
 80 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 His words were evidently not many, but his 
 manner suggested anger, and Susanne s tantalizing 
 laugh sounded clear as she leaned back on the gar 
 den seat and looked up at him. Then he tossed 
 away the switch and turned toward the house, as 
 if ending the conversation. 
 
 "Why can t you answer, Dick?" she called after 
 him, and laughed again when he walked on without 
 looking at her. 
 
 Then Rob Kirkley joined her, and they sauntered 
 together into the garden, where Jack had pruned 
 roses the day before. Could it be only a day ago? 
 As she stared out on the green lawn it seemed many 
 days and many nights had passed since then; at 
 least, she had lived a long, long time. 
 
 That he had won Susanne to his cause, as he had won 
 all else, was not so strange a thing, perhaps ; but a dull 
 anger flamed in her at sight of that strangely intimate 
 attitude. The fact that he was angry with Mrs. Min- 
 tern only made it appear so much more strange. 
 
 All through the dinner at noon she had felt her 
 blood tingle at Susanne s gay comradeship with 
 him. His attitude had been above reproach to 
 Peter Mintern s wife. Tabitha gave him more 
 than one look of commendation for his careful cour 
 tesy to Mrs. Mintern, despite Susanne s careless 
 appeal on all questions to "Dick" and to "Dick" 
 again, The worldly ways acquired by their kins 
 woman were cause of wonder to Tabitha, and she 
 was thankful that the only actual stranger at the 
 table was Peter Mintern s nephew.
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 81 
 
 But during that one little meeting with her on 
 the lawn he had not been distant in manner, or 
 ceremonious. He had been most curt even rude; 
 and Dorothy, from the wisdom of her worldly 
 experience, volunteered the information that only 
 a woman in whom a man is interested has power 
 to irritate him much. At which Jack grew at once 
 remindful that Susanne was her kinswoman and 
 guest; also that she was married. 
 
 Whereupon Dorothy put her tongue in her cheek 
 and smiled, and then begged Jack to put on the 
 white satin dress once more, that Susanne might 
 see how handsome she looked. And then, her 
 curls being to her liking, and Jack s scorn for white 
 satin dresses being forcibly expressed, she fled 
 from the wrath of it and joined the others at the 
 tea table, where Tabitha was waiting for Jack. 
 And while they waited, Dorothy began with renewed 
 ardor the questions of the sensation at Bayside, 
 from which subject Mrs. Mintern had once fled to 
 the garden. 
 
 After a little hesitation, Jack went down and took 
 her place at the table. She would have infinitely 
 preferred doing without tea to meeting again the 
 eyes of Susanne or Dick Cardiff, and be included 
 in any silent compact with the two after that scene 
 between them in the garden. Thus she was doubly 
 thankful to Dorothy for some leading question of 
 the kidnaping, requiring the attention of Susanne 
 as she joined them. 
 
 "But the paper said you were prostrated by the 
 
 8
 
 82 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 shock not able to discuss the awful affair," said 
 Dorothy, regarding Mrs. Mintern with much specu 
 lation. "How did you ever, ever pluck up courage 
 for the journey?" 
 
 "Oh, the journey was not so long only four 
 hours on the cars from Baltimore. I was glad to 
 get away in the hope of forgetting the subject, but 
 it seems useless." 
 
 Her voice suggested that she was either wearied 
 or bored, for Dorothy had already presented a long 
 list of curious questions concerning the incident, 
 and Rob Kirkley was not far behind. It gave him 
 great pleasure to watch the two leading characters, 
 especially Dick, affect indifference to the facts as 
 related by Nat, and accept the newspaper history 
 as corroborated by Mrs. Mintern, who was out 
 wardly careless, but inwardly furious at Dick s 
 slight little smile, when a question from Dorothy 
 would at times make replies excessively awkward. 
 
 Not that Susanne had any objection to embel 
 lishing romances for the entertainment of her 
 Quaker relatives, but this particular romance 
 and with Mr. Cardiff observing her with eyes half 
 closed and smiling was enough to test the temper 
 and the wits of any daughter of Eve, however 
 wise. 
 
 " But Susanne, if the moon shone and it was in 
 the second quarter, it is strange thee could guess 
 nothing of the man s size or age, or even color," 
 remarked Tabitha, placidly. "It is not so strange 
 that Peter insisted that thee should try."
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 83 
 
 "How could I tell when I fell in a faint?" asked 
 Susanne. 
 
 " But his voice not even that did tell thee any 
 thing?" 
 
 "Only to keep quiet." 
 
 " Maybe the man only wanted to rob the house?" 
 suggested Dorothy. 
 
 "Captain Gleason thought not; because of the 
 horses found saddled and other reasons. I ve no 
 opinion." 
 
 "Well, it s as soul-stirring as our adventure here 
 last night," decided Dorothy. "Did you know 
 the sheriff mistook Mr. Cardiff for a runaway white 
 slave? Oh, we had exciting times for a few min 
 utes. I have not gotten over the thrill of it yet." 
 
 "It was an awful thing to happen to a guest of 
 ours," said Tabitha, severely. "I pray that it 
 does not get abroad." 
 
 Jack s watchful eyes urned quickly to Susanne, 
 but that lady was only mildly amused. 
 
 "You ve been taken or wanted for a good many 
 things in your time, Dick," she remarked, mean 
 ingly, "but that sort of a runaway is a new one. 
 By the way," she added, as she noticed Jack s alert, 
 questioning look, "what did bring you across the 
 line? A pretty girl on this side? I should think 
 your rent roll would insure to you victories enough 
 at home." 
 
 " Oh, a man may have a hope of finding new ter 
 ritory where rent rolls do not count," he returned, 
 glancing at Jack.
 
 84 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 Susanne intercepted the glance and opened her 
 eyes in annoyed comprehension; the thing she had 
 taunted him with as a jest on finding him there, had 
 perhaps real foundation ; in fact, he was all eyes for 
 the overgrown schoolgirl he, Beau Cardiff, whom 
 half the girls and matrons, too, had intrigued for. 
 She shrugged her shoulders and laughed. 
 
 "Never think it, Dick!" she said, easily. "Rent 
 rolls always count. If you want to beat the other 
 man s time (and there s always another man) you 
 must have the most money. It s the deciding vote 
 with even the most unsophisticated maid isn t it, 
 girls?" 
 
 Dorothy protested to the contrary, but Jack was 
 busy serving spiced peaches, and cutting cake in 
 disapproving silence. It was well enough for 
 Susanne to remember a favor and help shield the 
 man, but this converse in the very free, even inti 
 mate, manner was certainly uncalled for; and she 
 ignored the appeal. 
 
 "I ve a most heartfelt interest in having this 
 thing decided," Kirkley insisted. "My governor 
 sent me word that it was time for me to come home, 
 settle down, and get married. I ve obeyed part of 
 the command, and if I manage the rest I d like to 
 know how I am to be sure if it s myself the girl 
 marries or the governor s acres." 
 
 " Then do as Dick suggests find a territory where 
 no one knows you have a share of the acres. You ll 
 get a girl, of course, but she s likely to be a kitchen 
 maid. This is not the romantic age when high born
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 85 
 
 maids step down to the lad who has only a love song 
 to offer." 
 
 "Must we accept your personal view for that of the 
 sex?" queried Cardiff. 
 
 He appeared always to have the power to irritate 
 her with the most casual of remarks, and she shot an 
 exaggeratedly indifferent glance at him. 
 
 "Oh, you ll discover how many share the view 
 if you really ever start the search with only a love 
 song to sing; and if you want to be quite certain, 
 Dick, you d better travel on foot instead of horse 
 back, and leave your servant behind. Then, with 
 only your face for your fortune, we ll see what you 
 bring back." 
 
 He regarded her with an amused, speculative 
 stare, and then, after a moment, smiled and made 
 her a mocking bow. 
 
 "I have to thank you for the suggestion, Mrs. 
 Mintern. Some day I may let you know the result 
 of such an experiment." 
 
 "Will you wager?" she demanded. "I ll put up 
 any horse in the stable against your own." 
 
 " I never wager when there is a woman involved," 
 he replied, carelessly; "and this woman, you know, 
 is to be the woman of all women." 
 
 "For a month, perhaps," she said, shrugging her 
 shoulders derisively. "Who ever knew you to be 
 constant longer?" 
 
 In the laugh at Cardiff, Jack rose abruptly. 
 
 "I see Ezra on the lawn, Aunt Tabitha. I had 
 best speak to him about the fences upon which they
 
 86 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 should have begun work this morning. I I was 
 engaged then, but if thee will excuse me 
 
 She bent her head collectively to the others, and 
 disappeared. Aunt Tabitha did not quite compre 
 hend, for she looked questioningly over her specta 
 cles in the direction she had gone. 
 
 "Oh, it s for me Jack would like to build fences, 
 Aunt Tabitha," said Susanne, laughingly. "She 
 thinks my speech of wagers and of love affairs inde 
 corous. What what shall you do to kill time if 
 neither games nor the sentiments may be discussed ? 
 Is there any other thing left for women on a 
 farm?" 
 
 "Jaqcynthia has her garden and her books and 
 her needlework," remarked Aunt Tabitha, placidly. 
 "She has never found time hang heavily, I hope." 
 
 "Not this last day and night, I promise you," 
 declared Dorothy. "Why, I am just back from the 
 city, and Jack s experiences last night would turn 
 even me giddy a big lot too giddy to remember 
 farm fences." 
 
 "I know something of fences myself," observed 
 Mr. Cardiff, rising. "I wonder if I could be of 
 service to Miss Marquand?" 
 
 He heard Susanne s light ripple of laughter as he 
 crossed the veranda. 
 
 "Trust Dick to always be able to be of service 
 when there is a novelty in the case," she said. " But, 
 of course, as a Southron, it is against his code of gal 
 lantry to let a girl cross alone even the dusk of her 
 own garden."
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 87 
 
 But Dorothy remarked the little note of vexation 
 in her laughing words, and was jubilant accordingly. 
 
 She had wanted Jack to win in the white dress, 
 but if she was winning in spite of the Quaker gray, 
 all the more of victory. 
 
 The slight message to Ezra was given, and Jack 
 sauntered on down the walk unconscious of quiet 
 steps following her. 
 
 She had felt smothered in there by the weight of 
 Susanne s jests and pretenses. Never before had 
 she known what nerves meant, but now she was 
 frantic to get away from the laughing group and 
 out into the evening air, where she could draw deep, 
 deep breaths, though ever conscious of a heartache 
 that went deeper ; where she could stretch her arms 
 wide, as though to ward off the shadows closing over 
 her head shadows more dense than the shadows 
 of the night, for above her shone a few of the early 
 stars in the blue-gray vault, and in the dusk of her 
 life there would be no star s light not one ! not one ! 
 
 All at once the realization of what it would mean 
 to her all of her life came to her with over 
 whelming force. Life could never be the same 
 never ! 
 
 It would be desolate. Yet never before had she 
 even thought of what desolation absolute could mean. 
 Why had it all come to her like this in a day and a 
 night? She had never, in any dreams of hers, pic 
 tured life with anyone she had met. Then why 
 all in a moment like this should a sense of lone 
 liness sweep over her until it left her shaken with
 
 88 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 suppressed sobs there by the bench under the cedars ? 
 No longer a girl waiting for the future with its possi 
 ble lover, but a woman grown old in a day, through 
 a horror she must face and fight alone. 
 
 She had sunk down on the bed of pine needles 
 heaped by the winds between the tree trunks and 
 the garden seat. 
 
 The Quaker gray of subdued feelings had been set 
 aside by the red blood of the Marquands. It was 
 as she had said in jest only yesterday when love s 
 color came to her it might prove not the dainty pink 
 glow of the poet s fancy, but the band of crimson 
 the badge of tragedy and rebellion. 
 
 The refugee halted there in the shadows for a 
 moment as those sobs came to his ears, all the man 
 in him longing to go forward, to lift her from the 
 ground, to tell her. 
 
 But back of him he heard a door open, and 
 Susanne s voice on the veranda; also Dorothy s 
 guitar giving out soft harmonies. 
 
 "Where are you, Dick?" she called. "We are 
 going to read plays. Bring Jack, and come in." 
 
 He stepped quickly into another path, and was 
 thankful the moon had not yet risen. A few quick 
 strides took him closer to the veranda. 
 
 "Very well!" he called back. "I ll be in when 
 I finish a cigar. But I ve not found Miss Mar- 
 quand." 
 
 Jack heard the words from where she knelt, and 
 they brought her to her feet in terror. 
 
 He had not found her had he been sent to find
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 89 
 
 her? If so, by what chance of fortune had he 
 avoided the place where they had stood last night? 
 
 She sped through an arbor strong and alert now 
 at the first note of danger, at the dread thought that 
 he might have chanced near her, that he might think 
 oh! he must be made to think any earthly thing 
 but the truth! 
 
 Gone was the prostrate, wretched woman under 
 the cedars, and in her stead a girl with flushed cheeks 
 and nervous hands stood before a mirror and 
 smoothed quickly her mass of dark hair turned in 
 the narrow band of a collar, and in its place folded a 
 fichu of finest white silk mull, surplice fashion, 
 across her bosom. In its folds one scarlet rose from a 
 window jar echoed the scarlet of her lips, and a 
 minute later she had sped down the stairs and 
 entered the living room a glowing picture with 
 never a hint of life s shadows flung across it. 
 
 "Why, Jack!" breathed Dorothy, ecstatically. 
 This was the Jack she wanted Cardiff and Mistress 
 Mintern to see this creature of form and color, 
 not the gray mouse her cousin had called her numer 
 ous times during the day. 
 
 There was nothing of the gray mouse about her 
 now ; the gray of the dress was only the background 
 for the wonderful face above the white kerchief, 
 and the wonderful eyes, with the new, half appeal 
 ing, half defiant expression, bewildering even Doro 
 thy, who saw her suddenly from a new point of view. 
 
 For the first time Jack Marquand looked to her 
 altogether proud; the pride gathered up because
 
 90 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 for the first time in her life Jack Marquand had a 
 hurt to hide, a humiliation to put under foot. 
 
 "Friend Cardiff went to seek thee, Jack," re 
 marked Tabitha. 
 
 "I came from upstairs," answered Jack. "I 
 brought thy knitting." 
 
 " I fear I shall leave all the work to thee to-night. 
 Last night strange doings caused me to lose sleep, 
 and this evening I leave the company to thy care," 
 said Tabitha, rolling up the woolens Jack had 
 brought. "Thee has thy embroidery or crewels to 
 put in thy time with." 
 
 Susanne and Cardiff came in from the veranda, 
 the latter pausing on the threshold and looking 
 backward into the night. Out there somewhere in 
 the shadows was the girl, the one girl his wonder 
 ful Quaker maid ; and he tossed his cigar across the 
 veranda with a regretful sigh for the night left 
 outside. 
 
 Then he heard Susanne s little, light laugh with 
 the note of disdain in it. 
 
 "Now you look like your own French grand 
 mother, Jack," she remarked, "the one in Aunt 
 Mary s parlor, framed in the ebony and gold." 
 
 "But I lack both the ebony and the gold," re 
 turned Jack, as lightly. "The grandmother in the 
 picture holds a garland of roses, and I I have only 
 the skeins of silk and knitting needles." 
 
 He had never heard her speak in that gay, care 
 less manner; he had never before seen her with her 
 head thrown back, smiling defiance to smiling disdain ;
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 91 
 
 and he saw Mrs. Mintern open her eyes a trifle 
 wider at the challenge. He felt something of 
 Susanne s own surprise when Jack looked carelessly 
 past her cousin and let her eyes for the first time since 
 he entered the house rest squarely, indifferently on 
 his own face. 
 
 "The skeins of silk are no less dainty in colors," 
 he said, crossing over to her, "and you lack not 
 entirely the roses." 
 
 He motioned to the rose, crimson against the 
 white mull, but his eyes met hers as he drew a chair 
 beside her workbasket, and the roses in her cheeks 
 deepened ever so slightly to give point to his 
 words. 
 
 Dorothy and Kirkley, tuning the guitar together, 
 found each other s hands for a quick pressure of 
 appreciation ; that is, Dorothy made the initial 
 movement in her jubilation over Mr. Cardiff s 
 devoted attitude, and Rob was ever willing to second 
 such overtures from her. 
 
 "What is it to be, music or plays?" asked Mrs. 
 Mintern, seating herself in a great mahogany chair 
 as on a throne. "I am to be the audience. Will 
 you two" to the couple with the guitar "sing or 
 read? Or will you two" ironically, to the couple 
 by the workbasket "give us a dance?" 
 
 She had no idea of a dance in that sedate house 
 hold. The mere suggestion was made with the 
 mischievous idea of shocking Jack back into the 
 prim, gray Quakeress once more. But Jack had 
 placed her hand to the plow to turn new furrows
 
 92 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 in her life, and dared not look back; instead she 
 looked forward and up with a smile of concession. 
 
 "Aunt Tabitha is out of hearing of the music, 
 so it matters little which you choose dancing or 
 singing," she said, carelessly. 
 
 "Oh, but it is you who must dance!" cried Doro 
 thy. "I will sing when my time comes, but I will 
 play the Varsovienne first for you. We did not fin 
 ish it yesterday. Mr. Cardiff broke our dance in 
 two when he stopped at the gate; he must do pen 
 ance." 
 
 "I shall be most happy if it means I may dance 
 with Miss Marquand." He had risen to his feet and 
 was towering before her, while Susanne laughed, 
 and Dorothy struck the first notes of her favorite 
 dance. 
 
 "I am but an indifferent dancer," said Jack; 
 " Dorothy has been my only teacher." 
 
 "Oh! oh!" cried that damsel, "and my teaching 
 is slighted like that? I insist now on my pupil 
 doing me credit ; it is an old dance." 
 
 "Perhaps too old for Dick to know," suggested 
 Mrs. Mintern. "He only cares for novelties." 
 
 For one blank instant Jack stared at her cousin. 
 Was Susanne attempting to cover a lack in his 
 social training? Did his worldly knowledge stop at 
 the door of a ballroom? Had he counted on her 
 refusing when he seconded Dorothy s suggestion? 
 Had she blundered where she meant only to cover 
 her own heartache? She glanced at him, and, 
 seeing no dismay on his face, felt reassured.
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 93 
 
 "My way may not be thy way," she said, quietly, 
 "but I know only one, and thee should be easy to 
 teach." 
 
 Susanne laughed at that. 
 
 " He will more likely teach you more steps than you 
 could ever learn from Dorothy Starr," she observed, 
 and she refused to dance with Kirkley, that she 
 might better watch the lesson." 
 
 But her anticipated amusement failed to materi 
 alize, as the stately minuet-like measures were trod 
 by Jack with as much of swaying grace, of delicate 
 point, as if she had always breathed the air of ball 
 rooms instead of the fields. After the first turn, her 
 fear that he could not dance gave way to relief in 
 the perception that he could most admirably and 
 the reaction lent an added glow to her cheeks and eyes ; 
 she was almost happy in comparison with that moment 
 of dread ; for the real Dick Cardiff would for a certainty 
 know dancing well, if he knew no other thing. 
 
 And the pretended Dick was no less talented. 
 He held her finger tips or circled lightly her slender 
 waist in the turns of the dance, and bent his hand 
 some head above her own with an air of deference 
 no longer conducive to Mrs. Mintern s amusement. 
 
 Because the girl spoke with the orthodox "thee" 
 and "thou" and wore sober gray, should the man 
 bend as if at a shrine? She was quite convinced 
 that sober gray could cover as much of iniquity as 
 brocades. 
 
 Twice Jack circled the room, alternately pacing 
 and whirling to the measures of the pretty dance,
 
 94 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 and laying her hand in his without a tremor. Then 
 she had justified herself to herself, though she had 
 stooped, perhaps, to Susanne s own methods to do 
 it. She made a little gesture of finality as they 
 reached again the settee where the musician was 
 enthroned, and, swinging herself from his light 
 clasp, bent her head slightly and sank beside 
 Dorothy. 
 
 "Oh, I protest the lesson is not half learned," 
 he said, as he bowed before her. "I shall beg for 
 rehearsals as some future time." 
 
 Future time! Back in her memory flashed his 
 avowal of the day when he would come back to 
 her some time somehow! 
 
 She raised clear eyes to his bravely, but smiled 
 for the sake of other eyes watching. 
 
 "Most likely there will be no future rehearsals," 
 she said, with quiet meaning. "This little dance 
 was for Dorothy. I shall acknowledge to it in meet 
 ing, shall be reproved by the elders, and shall promise 
 never to dance again." 
 
 "Oh! We all protest at that," cried Kirkley. 
 " I, for one, have been envying Friend Cardiff and 
 waiting for my turn." 
 
 "Your turn will come to read the plays," sug 
 gested Mrs. Mintern. "Jack can listen, and thus 
 sin passively instead of actively; she will not need 
 to confess for a proxy." 
 
 "No for myself when they are sins," said her 
 cousin. "And I am quite willing to listen if Friend 
 Rob is willing to read. What shall it be?
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 95 
 
 The volume of plays lay on the table, and Kirkley 
 stood beside her and turned the pages, admiring 
 the steel engravings. 
 
 "Here is the doleful tale of Juliet to make you 
 weep, and here is the awful -Macbeth to make you 
 shudder, and here ah! here is a picture of Forrest 
 the great I saw him in Washington City in this 
 the most magnificent Moor one could imagine." 
 
 "Ugh!" shuddered Mrs. Mintern, "it was awful. 
 A jealous brute who smothered his wife, though she 
 deserved something horrid for marrying the wretch." 
 
 "He s handsome in the picture," observed Doro 
 thy, "and, of course, though the Moor was dark, 
 he was not like our negroes of this country." 
 
 " But he had been bought and sold, even though 
 he had become a general," returned Susanne. "So 
 he was a slave, whether he was white or black." 
 
 Jack rose abruptly and crossed to the workbasket. 
 
 "I can both work and listen," she said, as she 
 gathered up the silks and sampler frame. Her 
 hands trembled and she kept her eyes averted. 
 
 " But you lose half the story when you do not 
 see the pictures," protested Dorothy. " This one tells 
 so much see where he talks to the father, and Des- 
 demona listens. I think I should have listened, too, 
 if he told such stories to me and looked so much 
 like a prince. Here below the picture it says: 
 
 She loved him for the dangers he had passed. 
 
 And Dick Cardiff, reading over Dorothy s shoulder, 
 glanced up to meet Jack s eyes, as he added: 
 
 And he loved her that she did pity him.
 
 96 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 The next morning Mrs. Mintern had watched Jack 
 leave on horseback for the far fences soon after the 
 sun rose, and for once exerted herself to dress quickly, 
 and throw a slipper at Phebe s head because the 
 little maid was not prepared for the toilet at that 
 unheard-of hour, and was sleeping when called. 
 
 "Mh h! Who did ever heah o her getten up 
 at field hand time befo ?" she asked Nat, later, in 
 their private conference down by the milk house. 
 "She s notionate enough at the best o times, but 
 she certainly is wuss than evar these days. You 
 scared count o her meeten up with your mahstah 
 heah? Shucks! yd 1 all safe! Mahs Mintern is like 
 enough to kill both o them, an sell me down South, 
 when he finds us heah ; but he ain t likely to touch 
 a har o you. No, sah ! yo got no bad luck comen 
 cept to lose me." 
 
 But little did her mistress consider the fears of 
 the two slaves, as she leaned forward on the dress 
 ing table and scrutinized her own face carefully, 
 while Phebe brushed her hair until it shone like 
 satin. 
 
 She was comparing, point by point, her own 
 equipment of feminine charms with those of that 
 overgrown schoolgirl who, with scarcely a word or 
 glance at Dick Cardiff, had yet held every thought 
 of his the evening before.
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 97 
 
 There was no doubt of that in Susanne s mind. 
 She was not deceived by his cleverness, by his 
 small talk to the others, and his avoidance of pointed 
 attention to the girl, who Susanne could see- 
 never addressed him, and scarcely lifted her eyes 
 from her endless work of silks and patterns. 
 
 No, it was the feeling in the air of all that was 
 repressed between these two, for Susanne quickly 
 discovered that Jack was quite aware of Cardiff s 
 feeling for herself. 
 
 Jack s indifference was the one thing puzzling to 
 her. Was that pretense, or was she honestly care 
 less of the attention other women thought a mark 
 of distinction? There was time enough for that 
 to be investigated in other days; just now while 
 Jack was away she might get some definite word 
 from Cardiff as to his intentions; all the previous 
 day she had striven in vain for such an interview. 
 
 Phebe carried the message to Nat, and she and 
 Nat exchanged solemn sighs and head shakings over 
 it before it passed on and up to Mr. Cardiff. He, 
 too, had caught sight of Jack Marquand with the 
 rising sun on her face as she galloped past the south 
 garden, and then on across the rolling meadows 
 where the dandelions were gemming the early green. 
 
 A fragment of song returned to him as the hoof- 
 beats died away, and his eyes followed her: "Ride 
 light, for my heart is under your feet, love." 
 
 He was conscious that the word in the song was 
 "dance" light, instead of "ride" light; his heart 
 was under her feet, wherever fortune carried her.
 
 98 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 How wildly proud she had been when she faced him 
 the night before with bright eyes and defiant lips; 
 daring him to fancy she had wept for one moment 
 under the cedars and, above all, had wept for him ! 
 Yet he knew he knew and his eyes were tender 
 as though with tears when she rode from his sight 
 through a belt of willows. 
 
 "My Quaker maid! my Quaker maid!" he 
 whispered, softly. "It is the most cruel thing a 
 man ever did to the one woman ; but all my life shall 
 make up for it." 
 
 With this self -consoling promise on his lips, he 
 turned in answer to Nat s knock at the door and 
 received Mrs. Mintern s message -in return for 
 which Nat received language against which he shut 
 the door and held on to the knob outside. 
 
 " Fore Gord, it s no fault o mine, Mahs Dick!" 
 he protested. " I did say I reckoned you not awake 
 yet. But no use in me lyen to that Phebe gal; so 
 what am I to do? Ef yo all done listen yesterday 
 to Mahs Kirkley an me an clar out o this trap 
 you d a been 
 
 "Clear out yourself, or I ll come to that door to 
 you!" called Mr. Cardiff. Nat attempted again to 
 protest, but as he heard steps cross the room he fled ; 
 and when his master reached the hall it was empty. 
 
 When he entered the living room in answer to the 
 note, he fancied it was also empty ; and then from a 
 high-backed chair by the fireplace Mrs. Mintern 
 turned, and, regarding him with a much subdued 
 manner, spoke with a little preliminary sigh.
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 99 
 
 Susanne, in a role of meekness, made him open 
 his eyes slightly ; if there was an inclination to smile, 
 she did not perceive it. 
 
 "You may as well sit down, Dick," she observed. 
 "Jack has gone riding, and Dorothy has agreed to 
 keep the others away from here while we have a 
 little conversation ; yesterday it was not possible, 
 but now well, you realize, of course, that things 
 can t go on this way." 
 
 "This way?" 
 
 "Oh, don t pretend! You know what I mean. 
 I am so much distracted over it all -really, Dick! 
 Why, I scarcely slept last night for dread of what 
 would happen if Peter learned you were here. You 
 must have some consideration; I have sent for you 
 to urge that, and you must make some excuse and 
 go away, for you never meant what you said yester 
 day you surely intend to go." 
 
 "Have not changed my mind a particle on that 
 question, my dear lady," he returned, coolly. "I 
 have business here. I told you yesterday I rode 
 out of your way once; I can t do it this time." 
 
 "Is that girl the lodestar?" she demanded, sud 
 denly dropping her little air of appeal. "Don t 
 think I was blind last night. Are you on the trail 
 for a pot of Quaker gold?" 
 
 "I really have not an idea whether there is a 
 penny in the pot, Susanne," he confessed. "Few 
 men would care." 
 
 "Ah! is it so bad as that?" she said, and smiled 
 without mirth. "You d better let it alone, Dick.
 
 ioo MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 Don t forget that your uncle will certainly think it 
 his duty to warn Noah Marquand even if I should 
 not interfere." 
 
 "You?" 
 
 "After all, Jack s my cousin it might be my 
 duty," she said, watching him narrowly. 
 
 "Since when have duties been so appealing to you?" 
 he asked . And how is your guest, the captain ? 
 
 Her face flushed angrily. 
 
 "You re a brute!" she burst out. "You re a 
 regular dog in the manger. And you re wrong, 
 too; there was no need to shoot the man I never 
 meant to go I never did!" she repeated, vehe 
 mently. "You might have seen I only used him 
 to keep the others off, or jealous!" 
 
 "Mm m! his fitting out the yacht for a long 
 cruise, and the meeting in the arbor, were to make 
 which of them jealous?" 
 
 " I tell you, you re wrong! The man did frighten 
 me a little, and I did go there to talk; but he 
 the man is a fool! I ll never, never speak to him 
 again! I ve done with him!" 
 
 "Because he failed?" asked Cardiff, smiling. 
 
 "I said before that you were a brute!" she re 
 peated. "If you had not been, you might have 
 prevented it in other ways. You need not have 
 shot the man to get rid of him." 
 
 "Oh!" and he smiled, grimly. "I might have 
 helped you keep the other men off? Well, Susanne, 
 I got the credit of it from your husband so what s 
 the difference?"
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 101 
 
 "Peter s a fool and you re another!" she ex 
 claimed, disgustedly. "Do you want to know why 
 I left? No, I suppose not. But I ll tell you; 
 maybe that will convince you ! Peter is nursing the 
 captain as if he were his own dearest brother, and 
 that is not all. I I had to tell that about the kid 
 naping. I had to tell something. But Peter never 
 lets go for a moment of the notion that Captain 
 Gleason perhaps saved my life and his honor. Oh! 
 you needn t laugh it s awful! But when Peter 
 almost drove me in to help nurse his benefactor, 
 that was when we had the big quarrel ; and he wanted 
 to separate, and I came here. He s likely to follow, 
 of course. I did not hide where I was going. He ll 
 know I m serious when I come to the Marquands. 
 But he s nursing Captain Gleason so that if the man 
 is found the captain can identify him. He thinks I 
 am shielding him, and that the dear captain is his 
 one friend so you see!" 
 
 "Yes, I see you have made a nice muddle of 
 things with your romances; and if Gleason should 
 tell" 
 
 "I told him I d murder him if he did!" she ex 
 claimed. "That was my good-bye to the idiot." 
 
 "That s a good way to get rid of him," he 
 remarked. " Do you suppose, Susanne, if there 
 had not been a wholesome lot of money settled on 
 you in your own right, that that pink-and-white 
 rat would have risked so much?" 
 
 " Oh, you need not suppose there is no man who 
 And then her petulance faded, and she looked at him
 
 102 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 steadily: "Did you and Peter quarrel the night 
 before you left? Phebe told me." 
 
 "We did," he said, quietly. 
 
 "About me?" 
 
 "Your husband can tell you the reason if he 
 wishes you to know it." 
 
 "That is just what worries me. He has not 
 mentioned it at all never hinted at it. I know 
 it was about me, and his silence means more than 
 his words. Captain Gleason hates you as he 
 should and the two together, if they should learn 
 that you are here 
 
 "You mean if they should know you are," he 
 corrected her. "I came first; you have your town 
 house," he added, suggestively, "and a host of 
 friends to cheer your waiting days." 
 
 "I tell you I won t and I won t and I won t!" 
 she cried, vehemently. "You are the one to go. 
 Jack would say so if she knew even that you and 
 Peter had quarreled. Oh! you ll find that you have 
 to study the proprieties with Jack Marquand, and 
 you won t like that." 
 
 "You are scarcely a fair judge," he returned, 
 with a little irritating smile at which her face flushed 
 angrily. 
 
 "You seem very sure of yourself here," she said, 
 maliciously; "as usual, your rent roll commands 
 attention. Ah!" as his face flushed "you really 
 fancied because she is of the country that rent rolls 
 don t count. But as I told you last night, they do, 
 my dear boy. You re handsome enough, Dick;
 
 103 
 
 but that won t count with the Marquands. They 
 have always married money they ve all got the 
 Quaker thrift, and Jack will marry money or not 
 marry. But that ought to make it easy for you," 
 she added, maliciously. 
 
 "I don t know that I want things made easy by 
 that means," he said, slowly, "though, of course, 
 you mean the suggestion kindly." 
 
 "I ll not have you sneer at me in that way, 
 Dick," she burst out, angrily. "You re the only 
 man \vho dares and you know it! And I ll not 
 leave you alone here w r ith that girl never! Let 
 them follow me let them find us here together. 
 Let Peter Mintern get a divorce as he threatens. 
 You ll be in it if he does. But I ll stay here I ll 
 stay here as long as you dare stay!" 
 
 She was growing half hysterical with temper, 
 and as she came close to him with hand raised in 
 wild emphasis, Mr. Cardiff suddenly took Mrs. Min 
 tern by the shoulders and lifted her bodily into the 
 chair she had vacated. 
 
 "I ll tell you what you ll do," he said, quietly. 
 "You ll receive a telegram from your husband 
 to-day, and it will call you back to Baltimore, and 
 you ll go!" 
 
 " I ! " She stared at him in breathless indignation. 
 
 "You ll go! You are threatening to use influ 
 ence with Mr. Marquand, which I can t permit; it 
 is not a fair fight. You let me alone, and I let you 
 go free, Susanne; but if not I ll have to use rather 
 unpleasant means."
 
 104 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 "You mean you ll tell?" 
 
 "I mean that if you or your husband tries to 
 incriminate me, I ll clear myself if I have to use 
 Captain Gleason s evidence to do it." 
 
 "Just as if he would give it!" 
 
 "Well, he could make a choice in the matter," 
 conceded Mr. Cardiff, "and also have choice of 
 weapons." 
 
 "You mean you would fight him?" 
 
 "That is for you and Captain Gleason to 
 choose." 
 
 She stared into the dwindling flames of the morn 
 ing s fire for a space, while the man watched her 
 quietly. A duel for her! One man was enough 
 to know what Dick and the captain knew each 
 was a good shot the question would be settled 
 once for all when that was over no one would be 
 the wiser then; whichever one was left could prove 
 nothing it would not be so bad; and to be the 
 cause of a real duel was more romantic than a false 
 kidnaping. It seemed really the best way out; 
 but, of course 
 
 "Susanne," continued her adversary, after a long 
 pause, "you will have to recollect one thing in your 
 choice both you and Captain Gleason. If he pre 
 fers to fight I shall arrange that Peter Mintern 
 shall know the rather peculiar cause of the meeting. 
 No more blindfold games with me in it. You ve 
 just shown me how risky it is. I m beginning to 
 value my reputation, and I might as well begin now." 
 
 "Yes by trying to ruin mine!" she retorted.
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 105 
 
 "A fine, manly, chivalrous thing to do! Oh, the 
 girls who have made a hero of you should know 
 this!" 
 
 "No use," he said, shaking his head and smiling 
 at her. " No one is trying to hurt you in the least. 
 When you get that telegram, you make excuses 
 and go back to Baltimore. If you are sensible you 
 will make up with your husband, and all will be as 
 it should be. You have the game in your own hands, 
 but you must decide right here and now what you 
 are going to do with it." 
 
 Her eyes moved restlessly from one point to an 
 other on the floor, as if vainly seeking a way out 
 of a trap, and then she raised them squarely to his. 
 
 "You re a brute, Dick Cardiff; and if it was not 
 for hurting my own name I d let Gleason kill you 
 and love him all the rest of my life for it. I despise 
 him now and you know it, but I could love him for 
 that just for killing you!" 
 
 "Yes I understand," he said, sympathetically. 
 "Shall I send the telegram?" 
 
 "Yes, you may send it," she replied, angrily. 
 " I wish it was an order for your coffin, Dick Cardiff! 
 I would cover miles on my knees to see you put 
 underground!" 
 
 She had her hand on the knob as she spoke, and 
 unconsciously had opened the door a trifle. He 
 made a little gesture of indifference, bowed slightly, 
 and passed through the other door to the veranda, 
 leaving her standing there rigid with fury help 
 less in her own trap.
 
 io6 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 She stood there for several minutes, her hand on 
 the door; but her back to it as she watched her 
 adversary cross the lawn toward the stables, striv 
 ing striving with all her might to think of some 
 move in the game by which she might even now 
 checkmate him. 
 
 Neither of them had seen the girl in the riding 
 habit who had stood an instant in the hall just out 
 side that slightly open door, whose own hand hold 
 ing a telegram had been outstretched to open the 
 door wider when Susanne s words, " I wish it was 
 an order for your coffin, Dick Cardiff I would 
 cover miles on my knees to see you put under 
 ground!" had come to her ears with stunning force. 
 
 Dick Cardiff! Susanne had called him that in 
 tones of concentrated fury. Susanne! Then he 
 was Dick Cardiff! Like a flash the whole truth 
 came to her this was the man! All Dorothy s 
 wild romances ranged back into her mind her 
 theory that Dick Cardiff was the one gallant not 
 at Mrs. Mintern s feet! 
 
 She turned dizzily and grasped for the oak rail 
 ings of the staircase, up which she crept like a crimi 
 nal, lest they hear her. 
 
 Ah! but he was at her feet; it was he who had 
 been the hero of that adventure at Bayside; it was 
 for that he had ridden like a runaway across the line ! 
 
 She could read the whole shameful story now. 
 Susanne had used her father s house as a rendezvous 
 to meet the man who had shot another one for her 
 sake that was how the bullet burn had touched
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 107 
 
 his wrist. And he had pretended to be a runaway 
 slave willing to pretend anything, even love for 
 herself, if by that pretense he could remain there, 
 unsuspected, to wait for the woman who was to 
 follow him. 
 
 They had quarreled about something and Susanne 
 had wished him dead; but what what did that 
 matter ? 
 
 The barrier between them before had seemed to 
 her aching girl s heart a thing tragic, awful, insur 
 mountable ; yet above and beyond all that had been 
 the illumination of a life, the tragedy of it. The 
 absolute sacrifice demanded had in a way strength 
 ened her with a sort of exaltation to meet demands 
 required of her ; but this 
 
 It was mean, low, disgraceful! A degrading 
 intrigue with his uncle s wife, and his shameful use 
 of her help to continue it. Fool! Fool! 
 
 She flung herself on her bed, face downward; 
 sick, shuddering with disgust of them both, of her 
 self, and, above all, for this ache in her heart which 
 all her scorn could not smother. 
 
 She lost all idea of time as she lay there. No one 
 came near her. No one had known of her return. 
 On meeting a man with a telegram for Mrs. Mintern 
 she had cut short her visit to the fence building, 
 taken the message, and had ridden across the fields 
 straight home. Her nag had walked into her own 
 stall, and Jack had gone as directly to Susanne s 
 room, when she was checked in the hall by Susanne s 
 voice, and after that chaos!
 
 io8 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 She heard light steps and lighter laughter on the 
 veranda and the lawn below. Dorothy and Rob 
 were taking Mrs. Mintern for a drive over the coun 
 try. She heard Dorothy call to Tabitha that maybe 
 they would find Jack in their travels, and she crowded 
 deeper into the pillows, and was thankful thank 
 ful that no one knew she was home. 
 
 She had not heard his voice among the others, 
 but supposed that he was at his lady s chariot 
 wheels, waiting for the moment when she might 
 smile again. 
 
 Then, after long hours of fruitless thinking, 
 she heard the field bell rung for the men on the 
 farther plantations, and realized that the noon 
 hour was near, and the wanderers. 
 
 She must meet them some way. For a little 
 longer she must make pretense, and dared not con 
 sider her own feelings. She had been left in charge 
 by Noah Marquand, and no family disgrace must 
 go abroad from his house. So long as Dorothy and 
 Rob were there no unpleasant scene must be allowed ; 
 but privately she would tell Susanne. 
 
 Then as she arose from the bed an envelope 
 slipped to the floor Susanne s telegram the one 
 she had ridden so fast to deliver, had held in her 
 hand as she walked away from that door, and had 
 forgotten utterly. 
 
 She stared at it in dismay. In the light of these 
 late, awful revelations it could but mean but one 
 thing ; it must be, it could only be from the husband ! 
 Who else would follow her with telegrams?
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 109 
 
 Jack s heart stood still as she thought of one 
 thing it might mean. No telegram had ever reached 
 the house of the Marquand s except to announce 
 a death; and if it came from the husband, might 
 it not announce the same thing the death of the 
 man who had saved Susanne from disgrace whom 
 Dick Cardiff had shot? And if if the worst had 
 come, Dick Cardiff was a murderer! 
 
 "Oh, he must go now; he must go must go!" 
 she breathed incoherently, as she cast aside the 
 riding dress and found hurriedly the Quaker gray 
 of Susanne s derision. With trembling hands she 
 fastened it, listening each instant for the return of 
 the wheels. 
 
 None came. She descended the stairs quietly; 
 no one knew she was in the house, and she wished 
 to avoid all the little household affairs for which 
 Aunt Tabitha would want her atteniton, all the 
 questions apart from the one great question, until 
 Susanne s return until the worst should be known, 
 the awful thing by which the supreme horror should 
 be added to those awful days and nights. 
 
 She held the telegram in her hand and slipped 
 down the back stairs to that entrance to the garden 
 where she had led him to safety on that first wild 
 night, which, to look back upon now, seemed almost 
 beautiful. At least the emotions of it, despite that 
 tragic barrier, had nothing of the coarse horror with 
 which he and Susanne had since colored her thoughts. 
 
 At the far corner of the garden was an arbor of 
 evergreen roofed in summer by blossoming rose
 
 no MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 vines. The vines were bare now, but for tiny 
 swelling buds where the leaves would soon be; but 
 one could at least be hidden there from curious 
 eyes, and from there she could first hear the sounds 
 of returning wheels. 
 
 Her eyes, heavy with unshed tears, were on the 
 ground. When when would Jack Marquand ever 
 dare lift her eyes again and look the world in the 
 face ? All her life of blamelessness counted for noth 
 ing now when facing the shame of remembrance of 
 how he had looked in her eyes and made that avowal 
 the night before: "And he loved her that she did 
 pity them!" 
 
 Had he knelt at her feet to make the confession, 
 it had not thrilled to the heart of her more certainly ; 
 and he had known it known it! 
 
 All her attempts at deception had been useless; 
 the triumph in his eyes had caressed her as surely 
 as though his lips had touched her hands. She 
 tingled with shame as the certainty of that knowl 
 edge had come to her and she lived again the sleep 
 less hours of the night. 
 
 And then she moved into the shadows of the 
 high, hedged arbor, and met him face to face! He 
 with both triumph and pleading in his eyes, and 
 she with the shamed tears in hers. 
 
 For an instant she stared at him, her head thrown 
 back in defiance of all he dared dream that he knew ; 
 then she turned, with a little repellent gesture, out 
 into the sunshine again. 
 
 But he caught her hand and held it in both of his.
 
 MY QUAKER MAID in 
 
 "Listen to me if only one minute!" he begged. 
 " I meant not to tell you the truth just yet; it was 
 only a lover s foolish fancy to test what she said 
 last night I mean Susanne. But it was cowardly 
 cowardly! And I am at your feet in my repent 
 ance. You sweetest woman on earth! it was my 
 own name you gave me to masquerade in when 
 you thought you were hiding a runaway slave. 
 Now will you understand? now will you listen 
 to me?" 
 
 "Will thee please to let go my hand?" she said, 
 clearly. "Yes, I understand thee very well now 
 very well, indeed! Thee has chosen my father s 
 house to flee to from the house of Peter Mintern; 
 and thee would even profess affection for my father s 
 daughter, that she might shield thee until the com 
 ing of Peter Mintern s wife." 
 
 "Jack!" he cried, in amazed protest. 
 
 "Thee sees now how well I understand," she con 
 tinued in the low, even tone, in which there was no 
 tremor as she arraigned him. "That thee has 
 quarreled bitterly here with Susanne does not 
 change the fact that it was thee and no other whom 
 Peter Mintern s friend shot at to defend Peter 
 Mintern s wife. It is for thee that offer of reward 
 is posted over walls and fences; and by this time 
 it may be doubled by the State. This message to 
 Mrs. Mintern may tell of the man s death. Thee 
 sees now how well I understand at last, and how 
 wise it will be for thee to ride on to the North 
 quickly."
 
 ii2 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 The tears were gone from her eyes now, burned 
 out by her disdain, and she looked at him squarely, 
 as she had looked across the room at him last night, 
 haughtily and indifferently. 
 
 He stared from her face to the telegram she held 
 in her hand. The color surged hotly into his face 
 at her cold accusation, and then receded, leaving 
 him rather white, and his lips set stubbornly. 
 
 "I shan t leave here until I speak with your 
 father," he said, deliberately. "I see she has been 
 talking to you, and you take her word against me. 
 I can t blame you for that as things stand; yet 
 ah! my one woman my Quaker maid! trust me 
 just a little until your father comes. I adore you 
 can t you see that, Jack? Don t you know I will 
 make a wreck of their lies or their lives before 
 I will let that man or that woman stand between 
 you and me?" 
 
 "Thee will please to let my name be outside of 
 thy affairs," she said coldly. " I do perceive plainly 
 how willing thee is to make wreck of people s lives. 
 And this," she added, holding out the telegram, 
 "doubtless tells of the end of one of the wrecks 
 the man thou hast shot." 
 
 "You got that where?" he asked, wonderingly. 
 He had not thought it possible for Nat to manage 
 that telegram so quickly, since he must ride to the 
 station for a strange messenger. 
 
 "I met the man when out riding, and received 
 the message," she returned, coldly. "As Mrs. 
 Mintern is not here, I can only suggest to thee what
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 113 
 
 I fear may be its contents, and advise thee to leave 
 as quickly as possible." 
 
 "I told you once that I would ride either north 
 or south at your word. But this is more than merely 
 a question of life and death to me now it is per 
 haps a chance for hope and happiness. I shall 
 stay now, though you bid me go, though you refuse 
 to even look at me or speak to me. Can t you see, 
 can t you understand, that the more bitter you 
 are, the more am I bound to prove the truth to you 
 or to your father? Jack, if he is assured I am 
 honest, can t you trust me?" 
 
 "Not though thee affirm it with all the list of 
 words thee has stolen from dead poets to gild thy 
 falsehoods with!" she said, coldly, and left him 
 standing there. 
 
 When the party returned a little later from their 
 drive, Rob Kirkley found Cardiff tramping back 
 and forth along the cedar avenue, in a mood of 
 wrath incomprehensible to that gentleman. 
 
 "No, I m not going!" he stated, emphatically, 
 in reply to Rob s inquiry. "I ll stay here till the 
 inferno freezes over before I ll be driven out by her 
 lies or his either!" 
 
 "Hers? His?" 
 
 "She knows all about it, Rob all and a devil 
 of a sight more! If I had Gleason here now, I d kill 
 him good and dead for putting me in this hole. And 
 she won t believe a word I say, Rob not a word!" 
 
 "For Heaven s sake, Dick, who are you raving 
 about? your grandaunt?" 
 
 8
 
 n 4 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 "Don t be a besotted fool!" suggested his friend, 
 angrily. "It is a girl worth a world of Susannes; 
 it s Jack Marquand, the girl you sent me to. I owe 
 you a something decent for that, Rob! But she 
 tells me plainly she ll not listen to me, though I 
 talk till I m black in the face." 
 
 "Jack said that!" 
 
 "Yes, and a deal more. Oh, she s no angel- 
 bless her! And I deserve it deserve every bit of 
 it! If I had not lied to her about the other things, 
 she d maybe believe me about this!" 
 
 "The other things?" 
 
 Whereupon Dick unbosomed himself of the 
 iniquity he had been guilty of in impersonating 
 himself in an emergency, and the dire results fol 
 lowing, until Rob Kirkley rolled in the pine needles 
 in unholy mirth, and vowed that for once justice 
 had come quickly! 
 
 "And you had a hint of a hope that you could 
 win a girl like Jack after that?" he demanded. 
 "Oh! the folly of men when spoiled by pretty girls 
 and their grandaunts! Dick, it s the best thing 
 that ever happened to you. You ll learn what 
 your real value is by the time Jack Marquand gets 
 through with you. Oh, this is rich!" 
 
 "And you re a lot of help to a friend," remarked 
 Dick, gloomily. "The worst of it is that Susanne 
 has told her. I meant to, but the woman got 
 ahead that s the devil of it got ahead! Jack 
 thinks now that I was forced into telling, and that 
 settles my case."
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 115 
 
 "Have you spoken to Mrs. Mintern?" 
 
 "How could I? You were all out together when 
 this thing struck me. Spoken to her? No, nor 
 will I. She s got the telegram by this time to join 
 her husband; she ll have to leave to-day. Thank 
 the Lord I made her do that! I ll go to the station, 
 or to your place, Rob, to wait for Noah Marquand, 
 and after that 
 
 "You say you have made Mrs. Mintern leave 
 here? you?" 
 
 "I sent Nat with the message to the station. It 
 is signed by her husband, calling her home my 
 first forgery. Nat hired a strange messenger to 
 bring it back, so that it would appear genuine to 
 the Marquand family, and account for her going. 
 I tried to cover her tracks, and this is what I get for 
 it! Gad! if there were only a man to fight it out 
 with!" 
 
 " There is Dorothy calling us to dinner." 
 
 "She is calling you. You go, and you re not 
 supposed to have seen me understand? I am 
 ranging around the farm somewhere ; and you 
 make excuses to leave, and take me with you 
 directly after your dinner is over. I ll be back by 
 that time." 
 
 He plunged through an opening in the fir hedge, 
 and was engulfed from sight in the thick green, as 
 Dorothy crossed the garden, repeating the dinner 
 call, and scolded Rob for loitering, and then loitered 
 with him while she told him that Mrs. Mintern s 
 husband had telegraphed for her, and the carriage
 
 n6 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 was to take her to the station for the train, and she 
 was cross as sticks, and Jack looked half sick, and 
 they were all as dreary as a tomb. 
 
 Under which sprightly conditions Mr. Kirkley 
 had to face the task alone of entertaining four 
 women at dinner, during which he cast silent anathe 
 mas after Dick for his cowardice in deserting. 
 
 The manner of the two cousins on hearing of his 
 disappearance was the one interesting note in the 
 prolonged hour. Susanne was gayly contemptu 
 ous of his ability to extricate himself from a bog, 
 should he walk into one in the fields; and Jack, 
 after the courteous inquiry of a hostess, apparently 
 dismissed him utterly from her mind and took too 
 little interest to even smile at Susanne s prophecies 
 as to the different directions in which he might be 
 lost. 
 
 Rob concluded that if Susanne had told Jack, the 
 latter had returned small thanks for the enlighten 
 ment; for never by any chance did she meet Su- 
 sanne s eyes at the table, though that puzzled dame 
 cast many an inquiring glance at the cool, quiet 
 face of her Quaker cousin.
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 117 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 It was an hour before noon when the train from 
 Baltimore halted at the Marquands station, to 
 unload its limited number of passengers, among 
 whom were two men rather distinguished from 
 the others in their air of the world beyond the farm 
 ing lands. 
 
 The elder was a little, round old man in a very 
 brown wig, and the latest cut in coat and trousers, 
 while the other was of less than middle age, with 
 light blue, anxious eyes, a florid complexion, with 
 the tan of the salt air over it. He walked with a 
 cane, as he moved slowly from the coach to the little 
 waiting room. 
 
 " She is not here, my dear captain," said the older 
 man, who had hurriedly consulted the station 
 keeper. "The telegram should have reached her 
 in time it was started from here at sun up. Some 
 thing must be wrong; instead of waiting here for 
 the sheriff and his ideas, we will get a carriage here 
 to take us to Marquand s; it is only ten miles, 
 and" 
 
 "My dear Mintern, I can t do it I really can t!" 
 objected the other, leaning on the cane in a sick, 
 helpless sort of way. " I allowed myself to be 
 dragged into the train trip, but a carriage ride ten 
 miles across the country I could never endure it 
 impossible!"
 
 n8 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 "Pooh! pooh! You said the same about the 
 train trip when you started, yet here you are, not 
 a whit the worse. By Csesar! you look better 
 got more color." 
 
 "But the wound" 
 
 "Nothing but a bullet cut out, and all doing 
 well. What better can you expect? Gleason, if 
 we are to find our man, my enemy and your intended 
 murderer, we must not lose an hour not an hour, 
 sir. We will not stop to see the sheriff now; I ll 
 write him to follow us to Noah Marquand s. Noah 
 will help us; he is my wife s own cousin. Where 
 is that telegram? Did I give it to you? No, here 
 it is, and it s too significant to be chance. We are 
 on the track, captain, but this time we must have 
 Mrs. Mintern with us for identification. With 
 the two of you, there will be no chance of failure. 
 She must remember, or the alternative you know 
 the alternative!" 
 
 He shook his brown wigged head emphatically, 
 and folded his arms, as his friend looked even more 
 ill than ever, though he tried to nod weakly. 
 
 "Yes, I know, the divorce you threatened. But 
 do you not think 
 
 "No, no, no!" blustered the older man. "Your 
 persuasions are well meant, Gleason well meant. 
 You ve tried to be a true friend you are one, by 
 Caesar! You have risked your life for my wife and 
 my honor. And if she is too frivolous to value such 
 devotion, I am not, sir I am not! But on this 
 question of divorce I am not to be moved, even by
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 119 
 
 you. She must do her part toward convicting 
 that man, or 
 
 He shook his head portentously over the alterna 
 tive, and adjusted his spectacles to read a telegram 
 taken from his pocket : 
 
 HON. PETER MINTERN, Bayside, Md.: Suspicious stranger 
 here, gives different names, one that of a relative of yours. 
 Will prevent him leaving county till I hear from you. 
 
 HENRY KANE, Sheriff. 
 
 "You see, Gleason, we re too close on the trail 
 to give up now. You must brace up to stand it a 
 little longer. We ll have vengeance for that wound 
 of yours, I promise you." 
 
 Gleason only groaned, and watched the depart 
 ing train wistfully. A colored servant arranged 
 some shawls on one of the benches, that he might 
 recline on them while waiting for the carriage. 
 And Peter Mintern busied himself with a note of 
 directions for the sheriff, whom he asked to hold 
 the suspected man until he could return from Mar- 
 quand s with people to identify him. The sugges 
 tion was also made that Mr. Kane might, if he 
 thought best, follow them to Noah Marquand s 
 house, with the prisoner. 
 
 A train on its way south stopped at the station a 
 moment later, and the man on the shawls surveyed 
 anxiously Peter Mintern s back, and measured with 
 his eyes the chances of reaching the car steps before 
 he turned. 
 
 Though lie rose to a sitting position, he sank back 
 discouraged as a tall, fine-looking man in Quaker
 
 120 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 garb stepped down, and Mintern s colored servant 
 hurried forward with a series of bows, to relieve 
 him of the coat he carried on his arm. 
 
 "Howdy, Mahs Marquan , howdy?" he said, glee 
 fully. "You all don t member me, but I m Mahs 
 Mintern s Jim. I member you that one time 
 you come down to we all s place in Baltimore. 
 Here s Mahs Mintern now, jest hot-foot fo yo ^ 
 place!" 
 
 At that salutation the wounded man smothered 
 a groan of dismay; the helpers on the trail were 
 gathering in, and there was little chance either of 
 escape or rest for the weary. 
 
 The second train rolled on southward; and the 
 man sank back on the improvised couch and turned 
 his attention to the newcomer, who was greeted by 
 Peter Mintern effusively, and who listened to the 
 rather confused recitals with a shadow of growing 
 sternness in his fine eyes. 
 
 "This is a strange tale thee has to tell me, Peter 
 Mintern," he said, at last. "If Susanne is at my 
 house, and thee thinks she knows the man, she 
 must by all means tell his name. Thee tells me thy 
 friend who was shot is here?" 
 
 Mr. Mintern, with much praise for his friend, 
 introduced the two men, and Captain Gleason felt 
 the gray eyes of the Quaker look through and 
 beyond him as Noah Marquand took his hand. 
 
 The conveyance came around promptly, and 
 with it a saddle horse for their host. 
 
 "I expected to take my journey horseback, but
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 121 
 
 circumstances changed my plans, and I went by 
 train. This fellow has had a good rest while wait 
 ing for me." 
 
 He swung into the saddle, a magnificent speci 
 men of a man. Small wonder that in picturing 
 the man of her future Jack had thought of her 
 father as the man he must most resemble in strength 
 and poise. 
 
 "I am scarcely expected home until to-morrow," 
 he remarked, as he rode easily beside the creaky 
 carriage. "The steam cars are a great invention 
 for saving time." 
 
 "And for saving aching bones," added Captain 
 Gleason, gloomily. "I trust, Mr. Marquand, there 
 is a physician in your neighborhood if one should 
 be needed; this journey is ugh! well-nigh be 
 yond endurance." 
 
 "The roads are rough after the spring rains," 
 conceded Mr. Marquand. "A saddle horse is best 
 when the roads are bad; if thee would prefer this 
 one" 
 
 But the injured man eyed the prancing, dancing 
 young animal with disfavor; the carriage was less 
 liable for jolts to a sailor. 
 
 "I see one of the beasts from my farm ahead 
 there," remarked Marquand. "I think the rider 
 is a colored man, but I can warrant that animal 
 for staidness, if thee has a mind to try it." 
 
 He lifted the bridle rein. The animal he rode 
 forged ahead, and a minute later brought him along 
 side of Nat, who was jogging along sedately, glad
 
 122 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 to go slow on his homeward way, after his hurried 
 ride to the station with the bogus telegram, the 
 messenger of which had left him far behind, and 
 whom he was now keeping his eyes open to 
 avoid as he scanned the country roads and lanes 
 ahead. 
 
 It never occurred to him to keep any watch in 
 the rear; and when the horse of Marquand galloped 
 up beside him, and an authoritative "Ho! boy," 
 sounded in his ears, he turned in wild surprise. 
 
 But no more so than the master of the horse, 
 who saw for the first time that it was not one of his 
 own boys who bestrode the animal. 
 
 "Where did you come by that filly?" he asked, 
 and Nat stuttered in his amaze and fear, for every 
 foot of road in every direction was filled with terror 
 for Nat those days. 
 
 "Why, sah, that thah filly that filly, she b long 
 to Mahstah Marquand she do! He lives ovah 
 yon yondah way." This last with a sweeping 
 gesture taking in the whole western horizon. 
 
 "But thee what is thy name? Whose boy are 
 you?" 
 
 "Me? Why I b long I b long" 
 
 Nat at that moment caught sight of the carriage 
 and its occupants, and straightway forgot where he 
 belonged. He only had one wild idea of where he 
 ought to go to warn Dick Cardiff. Obeying that 
 impulse, he dug his heels into his filly s sides, and 
 with an imperative "G up, thah!" attempted to 
 forge ahead.
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 123 
 
 But the forging was a brief effort, for Noah Mar- 
 quand, with swift strides, headed him off and caught 
 his bridle as the carriage came up. 
 
 " Now will thee tell me thy name, and where thee 
 came into possession of my animal?" 
 
 "Why why Ezra, he 
 
 "Hold on to him! Don t let him go for an 
 instant," called Peter Mintern, standing erect in the 
 carriage, and waving his hands in wild excitement. 
 "It s just as I suspected all along! That s Dick 
 Cardiff s boy, and Dick Cardiff is the suspect the 
 sheriff means. We re on his track; hold on to that 
 boy for all you re worth!" 
 
 Noah Marquand stared at him interrogatively. 
 
 "Sheriff?" he said, quietly. "Is there a sheriff 
 after thee? Has thee run away?" 
 
 "N no, sah. I I nevah run only when Mans 
 Dick senden me; I never did!" 
 
 1 Then why attempt to run when I questioned 
 thee?" 
 
 Nat was silent, glancing at Peter Mintern and 
 Captain Glcason. The latter was white as his 
 collar, and fairly holding his breath to listen. 
 
 "It was the sight of me struck him dumb!" 
 stated the accusing Mintern. "Where that boy is, 
 his master is ; that is the suspicious character who is 
 supposed to be my relative. We ll see now we ll 
 see! Where are you going, you black rascal?" 
 
 Again Nat tried to break away, and failed. 
 
 This horse belongs to me ; the boy is heading home 
 ward, so we will take him along," said Marquand,
 
 i2 4 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 eyeing the boy curiously, but not unkindly. Nat s 
 first truthful answer had overbalanced the evidence 
 of his desire to escape. 
 
 But Mr. Mintern had no such trust. v 
 
 "Then he must ride in the carriage beside the 
 driver," he decided. "I m sorry we left Jim behind 
 at the station; he could have held him in. But 
 you have a pistol, captain; your task will be to 
 guard him from any attempt to escape. I will 
 take his horse instead ; I have not ridden for eighteen 
 years, but I ll take any sort of chance to reach your 
 place, Noah, before this black rascal gets there. 
 Even now they may have taken warning from my 
 telegram, and eloped. That may be the reason 
 she was not at the station. Ride on, Noah. Ride 
 as if for your life! I ll keep up I ll keep up!" 
 
 His will was good, though neither his endurance 
 nor that of the animal was equal to that of Noah 
 Marquand, who held in his own beast fresh after 
 its two days of rest. But ill matched as they were, 
 they soon outdistanced the carriage, and galloped 
 without words along the lanes and highways ; Peter 
 Mintern eager and furious at the discovery of Nat, 
 and Noah Marquand silent and thoughtful, a deep 
 wrinkle between his placid brows as he glanced ever 
 and anon in perplexity at his companion, whose 
 chase and its object especially the outspoken 
 suspicions were, it could be easily seen, viewed 
 with little favor by the silent relative of Susanne. 
 
 He had heard of the Bayside sensation, and was 
 ill pleased that a woman of the family should be
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 125 
 
 discussed in superlatives as had been done in the 
 papers in the case of Susanne and the romantic 
 attempt at kidnaping. 
 
 Captain Gleason had also come in for his share 
 of praise for gallantry in defense of beauty; but to 
 the eyes of Noah Marquand, he had appeared any 
 thing but gallant as he crouched nervously in the 
 corner of the carriage. 
 
 Of Dick Cardiff s name he had seen no mention 
 in the papers, but as he rode along he thought of 
 the little neighbor girl he had known long ago, who 
 had moved to the South and married a Richard 
 Cardiff. Peter Mintern s disjointed phrases of wrath 
 had told him but little of the lad who was no doubt 
 her son ; and he asked few questions, waiting to see 
 the man.
 
 126 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 The man was standing beside his saddle horse, 
 waiting for Rob, who had some final things to say 
 to Dorothy; and Jack, for mere courtesy s sake, 
 stood on the veranda steps to watch their departure, 
 when Susanne appeared at the hall door. 
 
 "Jack," she called, " I ve changed my mind about 
 going to-day. I m tired. His message asked me 
 to be there for the three o clock train. Well, I 
 can t make that now without driving fit to kill 
 horses; so I might as well stay over until morning." 
 
 "As you please," replied Jack, quietly, without 
 looking around. : The carriage will be ready when 
 you please." 
 
 Cardiff looked at Susanne sharply, but could see 
 no sign of any subterfuge there. She had evidently 
 given up the fight and was accepting his terms, yet 
 was simply too tired for the drive. 
 
 For the first time since their quarrel of the morn 
 ing, he addressed her. 
 
 "You say Uncle Mintern telegraphed you to meet 
 a certain train?" he asked, with pointed emphasis. 
 
 She regarded him with disdain for an instant, as 
 if in doubt whether to reply, and then : 
 
 "You can read the message in order to be cer 
 tain," she said, sarcastically. "Jack, I handed it 
 to you, did I not? Please let Mr. Cardiff see it; I 
 don t think I made a mistake."
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 127 
 
 Her eyes, mocking, yet with difficulty shielding 
 her anger from the rest, met his as she spoke, and 
 opened a trifle wider as he walked direct to Jack, 
 who took the paper from her apron pocket. 
 
 " I did not understand," he remarked. " I thought 
 I understood that your telegram simply asked 
 your return to Bayside. I did not know you were 
 to meet a certain train." 
 
 "Bayside! It w r as sent from Baltimore, or," she 
 added, with quiet meaning, "it is headed Balti 
 more." 
 
 Without a word, Jack handed him the paper, and 
 Rob Kirkley, as well as Susanne, was aware by his 
 quick frown of surprise that the wording there was 
 not what he expected. 
 
 He crumpled it in his hand and turned to her 
 sharply. 
 
 " I think you are making a mistake," he said, with 
 quick decision. "You had better drive at once to 
 the station. Your husband is due there before this, 
 and is probably waiting. This message was sent 
 from Baltimore last night." 
 
 "Dick!" 
 
 Susanne s voice was a frightened cry as she sped 
 down the steps and stood beside him. 
 
 " Dick, you are trying to frighten me. He is not 
 that is this message 
 
 "It should have reached you early this morning. 
 It states plainly that he will meet you there." 
 
 "But I never dreamed," she half whispered as 
 Jack moved away. " I I thought you had sent
 
 128 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 "I never laid eyes on this message before," he 
 said, quietly, and then in a lower tone of command : 
 "Order the carriage!" 
 
 "But you you sent 
 
 "This is not the message I sent." 
 
 "My God!" 
 
 She grew white, and swayed dizzily, but Cardiff 
 caught her by the arm. 
 
 "Steady!" he said, in a low tone. "This is no 
 time for fainting, Susanne ; it is more serious than a 
 kidnaping." 
 
 "You re a brute!" she muttered, between pale 
 lips, as she wrenched herself away from him, and 
 then, in a louder tone: "I am tired that is all. 
 And I I must have read the telegram carelessly. 
 I did not understand that he would be there, but I 
 will go at once, now that I know, now that I under 
 stand." 
 
 "Ezra will have the carriage ready at once," 
 said Jack. " And anything we can do to assist 
 
 "Why not wait a little longer and accompany the 
 carriage?" demanded Dorothy of Kirkley. "You 
 go three miles in the same direction, and it would 
 be only gallant." 
 
 Rob turned to Dick before framing his reply ; but 
 Dick s eyes were following Jack rather hopelessly. 
 
 She was walking across the lawn with her head 
 erect, haughtily, and never a glance toward him. 
 He knew that she alone had heard those words ex 
 changed with Susanne, and the meaning she had 
 read from them, who might conjecture?
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 129 
 
 If only there was a vestige of a chance of a word 
 alone with her before going any chance that he 
 could lessen ever so little the growing accumulation 
 of evidence against him! 
 
 He started to cross the lawn after her, but she had 
 spoken with Ezra and was coming back. When 
 she saw him approach, she halted with one quick 
 gleam of blazing fury in her eyes. 
 
 The cold indifference of the arbor was gone. 
 Before her very eyes they had dropped their mask of 
 intrigue, and had let her hear their half -whispered 
 words to each other. As he dared approach her 
 she stopped him with a look, and walked past as if 
 he had been one of the gate posts instead of a very 
 handsome young fellow, looking at her with his 
 heart in his eyes. 
 
 Dorothy saw it all, and was rather crestfallen at 
 this very disappointing ending of the romance she 
 had planned. 
 
 Rob Kirkley grinned unsympathetically. As he 
 had remarked to Dick at noon, justice was coming 
 swiftly, and he was joyful that he was on hand to 
 see Dick s undoing. 
 
 "You will wait?" asked Dorothy of Dick. 
 
 "I think not," he said, rather reluctantly. "My 
 adieus have been said, and if Mr. Kirkley is ready- 
 Rob thought he was. There was a whispered 
 word about a call on the morrow, and then the two 
 gentlemen mounted and rode away; and Dorothy 
 went slowly back to the house, not at all satisfied, 
 and feeling a bit resentful toward Rob, whose covert
 
 1 30 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 smiles betrayed some knowledge of the cause of 
 Jack s odd manner and of Susanne s submission to 
 Dick Cardiff s order for it was little else. 
 
 Jack s sudden coldness to both her cousin and Dick 
 Cardiff was the most incomprehensible thing; and 
 the coldness of Susanne to Dick was almost as 
 mysterious. Last night all had apparently been 
 so harmonious ; Jack had been so unexpectedly gay, 
 so bright, so smiling, so above all Susanne s clever 
 little strokes. But to-day she was back under high 
 fences of Quaker decorum only coldly courteous 
 to those two worldly connections of her family, and 
 with a new, strange air of aloofness barring out even 
 the questions of Dorothy. 
 
 The little maid felt out of it all, and not quite 
 sure of anything but Rob. Of course Rob was 
 quite worth while, and she was in a flutter of eager 
 ness to tell Jack what he had said to her on the 
 veranda alone last night or, at least, a part of what 
 had been said. 
 
 Jack looked too icy for sympathy with anything 
 approaching a love affair; and now that Dick Car 
 diff had ridden away, despite Aunt Tabitha s re 
 peated invitations, Dorothy felt that her jubilation 
 over a romance for her beloved friend was doomed 
 to disappointment. Any girl who could send Dick 
 Cardiff away like that and Dick Cardiff as plainly 
 in love as he had shown himself last night was 
 hopeless for all purposes of romance. Icy was the 
 only word for her. 
 
 Dorothy meant to attempt a thawing process as
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 131 
 
 soon as Susanne s carriage disappeared. Once the 
 worldlings were gone, Jack might again be the lova 
 ble Jack of other days the lovely, compliant Jack 
 whom she had decked with corals and white satin 
 and danced with riotously. 
 
 So planning, she went thoughtfully up the stairs 
 to Jack s room, halting a moment at the hall entrance 
 to look across the field, where a bend in the road 
 might bring the two horsemen again into sight. 
 
 Yes, they were moving along at a foot pace, evi 
 dently deep in converse; but Rob caught sight of 
 the fluttering handkerchief and waved a satisfactory 
 signal in return. In a brief dream as to the hour 
 when he would come back, and other dreams of the 
 winning of her father to Rob s ideas, Dorothy forgot 
 for a moment all about Jack and her strange man 
 ner to her Maryland guests. 
 
 It was only for a moment. She was roused by a 
 sharp knock on Jack s door, followed by it suddenly 
 opening and closing; and then Susanne s high tones 
 sounded through the window and reached Dorothy, 
 who stood out of sight in the corner of the 
 veranda. 
 
 "I suppose you thought I was going without 
 seeing you again," she said, insolently, "but I m 
 not. You and Dick Cardiff think you are having 
 your own w r ay ; but it won t last, I can tell you that! 
 You might as well know that his promises, especially 
 to women, are not to be depended upon, and 
 
 "If Mr. Cardiff has made promises to thee which 
 he has not kept, it is as well for thy own honor that
 
 132 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 thee keeps the falsehood of it to thyself," said Jack, 
 in tones of cold, cutting anger. "I have no desire 
 to know thy secrets." 
 
 " Secrets! Oh, you carry it off well for a country 
 girl!" retorted Susanne, with a mirthless laugh. 
 "Can t I see that he has told you everything false 
 telegrams and all? He wants to drive me away 
 because he s afraid I d tell Cousin Noah too much. 
 And you you think because he s a great catch, has 
 a magnificent estate 
 
 "Stop!" And Dorothy, outside the window, 
 almost jumped at the peremptory force of Jack s 
 command. " It is as well that thee each leaves here 
 knowing at least one truth! Until this morning I 
 had no knowledge of that man s name, or history, 
 or estates. I thought him a slave, hiding from a 
 master, from bloodhounds, from all the horrors of 
 shackled men. I took him in as I would any other 
 wanderer. I gave him a name 7, in jest, for a 
 trick a sinful trick on Dorothy gave him the name 
 of Cardiff and never guessed it was his own. I did 
 it as I danced with him last night, to shield him 
 to help a man I should never see again in this world. 
 He let me think it that he might wait here thee 
 knows best why. I do know he is the man thy hus 
 band has rewards offered for. I do know he is the 
 man who shot thy husband s friend; but I learned 
 it all, not from him, but from thy own lips when 
 thee chose to quarrel with him this morning. There 
 are not likely to be confidences between Richard 
 Cardiff and me."
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 133 
 
 "Oh-h-h!" And Susanne s tone expressed all 
 that was most mocking and derisive. "A runaway 
 slave ! You thought him that ! Dick Cardiff ! And 
 he ah, ha! ha! ha!" And she laughed shrilly. " I 
 see now how it was a new game, the thing we 
 laughed at last night. He wanted to win without 
 his money to back him, and he won he won! Now 
 I can read between all the lines, and it s a fine thing 
 for Noah Marquand to hear. I wagered a horse, 
 but I can do better now ! I can say to Dick Cardiff : 
 Silence for silence ! If he keeps silence to Peter 
 Mintern, I can afford to keep your story from Cousin 
 Noah. Oh, it s a fine exchange, and 
 
 "There will be no exchange. When my father 
 comes home he shall hear every word of that assumed 
 name Richard Cardiff did nothing to deceive me 
 in that; mine was the fault, the trick. He knew 
 nothing of my mistake until the sheriff reached here 
 that night. Never be deceived by the idea that I 
 would shield myself by any compact between 
 Richard Cardiff and thee never, never! I trust I 
 have seen thee both for the last time." 
 
 "Fare you well, then!" laughed Susanne, mock 
 ingly. " But, Jack, all your anger can t hide from 
 me that you were crying when I came in here 
 crying because he was gone the runaway slave!" 
 
 What Jack did, or meant to do, Dorothy never 
 learned; but Susanne, with a half shriek of fear, 
 tore open the door, and, slamming it shut after her, 
 fled in terror along the corridor and across the 
 veranda. She did not even see Dorothy in her
 
 134 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 flight to her own room, from which the latter heard 
 her calling impatiently to Phebe to have the carriage 
 brought at once at once ! 
 
 Dorothy, her eyes big with wonder, crept quietly 
 to her own room, careful lest a rustling skirt should 
 betray her to the girl whom she heard sobbing with 
 rage and shame inside the window. 
 
 A few minutes later, when Aunt Tabitha went to 
 Jack s room to ask concerning the new carriage 
 robe for Susanne, the room was empty. Jack was 
 not to be found, much to Tabitha s embarrassment 
 when a guest was leaving the house. 
 
 And only old Ezra knew of a veiled face at the 
 back door of the carriage house, and of how the har 
 nessing of the team was delayed until a side saddle 
 was put on Jack s favorite ; and then of how a horse 
 woman walked her nag quietly back of the farm 
 buildings to a side lane, from which they had scope 
 to run unseen if they liked, and leave the turmoil of 
 the world behind.
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 135 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 It was perhaps ten minutes later when the car 
 riage turned from the lawn gate into the avenue, 
 only to be halted there by a faint scream from Mis 
 tress Mintern, and a frightened, fervent Drayer from 
 her maid. 
 
 Two men were galloping up the avenue ; one was 
 Noah Marquand, and the other, bobbing along in 
 the rear, breathless and hatless, was Peter Mintern! 
 
 "Turn around!" said Susanne, sharply, to the 
 driver. She had no mind for one of Mr. Mintern s 
 scenes in the presence of the Marquand servants. 
 
 The man did so obediently, and the carriage had 
 scarcely reached the inner drive when she jumped 
 out and ran up the steps of the veranda. 
 
 "Why, Susanne!" began the wondering Tabitha; 
 but Dorothy, who stood beside her, only looked, 
 and said never a word. 
 
 " Peter Mintern is on the road there, coming with 
 Cousin Noah. He is angry, of course, because I did 
 not meet him. When he is angry he is most unrea 
 sonable and quarrelsome; and I prefer to hear his 
 fault-finding here rather than in the middle of the 
 road!" And Susanne whisked brusquely past her 
 questioner and into the house. 
 
 These are most strange manners, Dorothy, 
 remarked the dismayed Tabitha. "Jaqcynthia 
 should by all means be here ; yet, if Noah comes -"
 
 136 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 Noah came a moment later, gave quiet observa 
 tion to the carriage ready for the journey, and the 
 paralyzed maid among the bandboxes. 
 
 "Thee had better step down and into the house," 
 he observed. "Thy mistress will not depart yet a 
 while." 
 
 Phebe silently obeyed, trembling with fear, and 
 anxious to avoid her master; but she was scarcely 
 quick enough, for he called to her as she reached the 
 steps. 
 
 "Tell your mistress I am here. And tell Mr. 
 Richard Cardiff that Mr. Mintern would like a few 
 words with him in the garden." 
 
 "Mahs Dick be not heah now," said Phebe, with 
 chattering teeth. "He done left a while back with 
 Mahs Kirkley." 
 
 "Kirkley?" said Noah Marquand. "Mr. Robin 
 son Kirkley?" 
 
 "Y-yes, sah! I heerd him say he goen ovah to 
 visit Kirkleysford till Mr. Marquand done come 
 home." 
 
 "It s a trick, Noah a trick!" sputtered Peter 
 Mintern. "He s seen my telegram and lit out! 
 You see, that sheriff was right! / was right! It 
 was in my own house the enemy was and we ve 
 run him down we ve run him down!" 
 
 " The Kirkley s are the best people of our district," 
 observed Noah Marquand. "And if he is their 
 guest 
 
 "Their guest! That fellow has the effrontery of 
 the very devil! Will not his money open every
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 137 
 
 door to him? Oh, he is one of the dashing blades 
 whom the social fools admire! That is why he 
 escaped so easily friends have helped cover his 
 tracks. But they could not fool me! When Susanne 
 refused to describe the man, when that noble fellow 
 Gleason swore he could not identify him, I knew in a 
 minute it was someone near home. And it was! It 
 was the very one I had quarreled with that night 
 for his his steady watchfulness of her all the even 
 ing. I saw it and took him to task, and his revenge 
 was to try and compromise my wife kidnap her, 
 by Caesar ! If it had not been for Captain Gleason 
 
 By this time they had reached the steps of the 
 veranda, and Mr. Mintern required all his breath 
 for the mounting of them; but once at the top he 
 began again. 
 
 "Now, Noah, I m going to be calm perfectly 
 calm. It is your house ; you be the arbitrator, you 
 do the talking. If it is not an open confession, it 
 is a separation nothing but a separation! I will 
 not listen to 
 
 They had reached the living room, and Susanne 
 was there; also Dorothy, who went soberly up to 
 Noah Marquand, shook hands with him, and with 
 Mr. Mintern, whom she had met in Philadelphia. 
 That gentleman had no remembrance of her face, 
 nor, indeed, did he see anyone in the room but 
 blond, nervous, defiant Susanne. Dorothy did her 
 social duty to Noah s guest just as if he did not 
 regard her with unseeing eyes, and then she turned 
 to their host.
 
 138 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 "Jack has gone out, Uncle Noah," she said. 
 But I shall be on the veranda if thee should have 
 need of me." Then she walked out of the room 
 and left the antagonists alone. 
 
 Mr. Mintern glared at his wife. She loosened her 
 bonnet strings, and, putting it aside, sank into an 
 easy-chair. 
 
 "Well," she remarked, "I am glad to see thee, 
 Uncle Noah. I came here for your advice, but a 
 telegram from Mr. Mintern was about to call me 
 away before seeing you." 
 
 "Peter tells me a strange tale, Susanne," he 
 answered, seating himself and looking seriously at 
 the fluffy, beflowered creature among the cushions. 
 "I have read an extraordinary thing in the paper 
 concerning the shooting at Bayside; and now thy 
 husband maintains it was his grandnephew did the 
 shooting, and that Captain Gleason and thyself are 
 contriving to hide the criminal." 
 
 "Peter dreams things and fancies they are true, 
 Cousin Noah," she observed, lightly. "Captain 
 Gleason knows Dick Cardiff, and has no reason to 
 shield him. I scarcely think the men are even 
 friends. Why should he shield him?" 
 
 "The captain is following in the carriage. If 
 Mr. Cardiff can be sent for, this suspicion of thy 
 husband s can easily be made clear." 
 
 "Following in the carriage!" Susanne reached 
 again for her bonnet. "You mean you have 
 dared, Peter Mintern, to drag that man here after 
 me? You have dared? I left Bayside because you
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 139 
 
 kept him there. I hate him! I despise him! I 
 will not exchange one word with him or even see 
 him! The man is a fool!" 
 
 The man was once an officer of the British navy, 
 stated Mr. Mintern, as if that fact pre-supposed all 
 acknowledgment of intellectual efficiency. "He is 
 the master of a very substantial yacht, and 
 
 Susanne interrupted with a muffled, nervous 
 shriek. 
 
 " Don t mention that yacht! Don t mention that 
 man again, or I ll not be accountable! Dick Cardiff 
 was right in one thing he said the man was 
 cruising in that boat for some woman with money, 
 and that he was not over-scrupulous as to how 
 he got " 
 
 "Oh, ho! Then it was Dick set you against that 
 poor gentleman? I knew it! You see, Noah, she 
 acknowledges his influence; she 
 
 "You ll drive me raving mad between you!" 
 cried the distracted Susanne. "I detest your 
 nephew as much as I do your bosom friend, the 
 captain. If you want me to go home with you, 
 you ll have to promise me never to let either of them 
 enter your door again." 
 
 "I think your wife shows good judgment in that 
 decision," said Noah Marquand. "These two men 
 seem to have brought strange commotion into thy 
 family, Peter; and if it is against the wishes of thy 
 wife, does thee think it wise to give preference to 
 the stranger over the dislike of the woman thou 
 hast married?"
 
 1 40 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 " She disliked neither of them until this kidnap 
 ing, Noah," stated Peter Mintern, promptly. "It 
 is the very reason for this dislike I am seeking for 
 now; when I have found it I shall know who the 
 man is, and why he is shielded. And if it is not Dick 
 Cardiff, why has he followed you here? And why 
 has he taken to the road when he knew I sent for you ? 
 Answer me that, Mrs. Mintern answer me that!" 
 
 " Follow me! " laughed Susanne, scornfully. " Dick 
 Cardiff followed no one when he rode here. I found 
 him installed as a guest in your house, Cousin Noah. 
 As to the reason for it, you must ask your daughter." 
 
 "My daughter! Jaqcynthia had scarcely heard 
 the man s name; no more had I." 
 
 "Well, you ll hear enough of him now," she 
 retorted, meaningly. " But it was never to see me 
 he came." 
 
 Noah looked at her with steady, serious eyes. 
 
 "Who, then?" he asked, quietly. 
 
 Susanne s own eyes fell as she slipped rings on 
 and off her fingers. How she would have loved 
 loved to have told him ! If only she dared ! 
 
 "I found him here, that is all I can say, Cousin 
 Noah. Only he never expected me to interrupt 
 his visit." 
 
 Noah Marquand and Peter Mintern exchanged 
 glances. There was nothing sensible to be got out 
 of the woman, with her fitful petulance, her nervous 
 unaccountability. 
 
 " I can ask Tabitha since Jaqcynthia is not in the 
 house," remarked Noah.
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 141 
 
 "Tabitha knows no more about it than you do, 
 Noah Marquand. Only Jack knows. Maybe she 
 will tell you when she comes maybe." 
 
 "I like not thy flippant manner regarding the 
 affair," said her cousin. "This is a serious thing to 
 all but thee. If thy kinsman came not here to see 
 thee " 
 
 " He did not, I tell you. I was about the last person 
 on earth Dick Cardiff wanted to walk in here and 
 spoil his fun. Oh, you may look, but I ve said all I m 
 going to. Only he did not come here to see me!" 
 
 At that moment Ezra appeared in the doorway 
 with an envelope in his hand. 
 
 "A telegraft fo Mist ess Mintern, sah," he said. 
 And Mr. Mintern being nearest, took it from him. 
 
 "A telegram!" he said, holding it up and shaking 
 it ominously. "Who knew where to find you here? 
 Who?" 
 
 "You did," she said, promptly. 
 
 "I?" 
 
 "Open it if you have any doubts," she suggested. 
 She knew that he would do it anyway ; and the cer 
 tainty that he was very close to the truth steadied 
 her nerves instead of occasioning her extra worry. 
 
 Anything was better than suspense. And if 
 Gleason was really almost at the gates, and if Dick 
 should be made to face him well, a chaos had come, 
 and what use to fight further? 
 
 " Open it," she said again. Her Cousin Noah was 
 watching her with critical eyes. It was for his bene 
 fit she was thus carelessly frank. He should see
 
 i 4 2 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 "It is my own name signed to it!" cried Peter 
 Mintern, too astounded to hear hurried steps cross 
 ing the veranda and halting at the door. My own 
 name, asking you to go home ! But I never sent it 
 never! The writing is that of Dick Cardiff Dick 
 Cardiff, I tell you! And in the face of this evidence 
 you dare tell me, madam, that he is not mixed up 
 in this? Is no ways accountable for 
 
 " Uncle Mintern," said Dick s voice from the door 
 way, " I did my best to catch up with that messen 
 ger, and save you this bewilderment. The man 
 lost the road, else he would have been here before 
 this. It was written to prevail upon Mrs. Mintern 
 to return to your home without delay. Your own 
 message of almost the same import reached here an 
 hour or so earlier, that is all. Will you please pre 
 sent me to Mr. Marquand whose guest I became in 
 a curious way, and to whom I owe apologies?" 
 
 "You you dare, Dick Cardiff, to face me, sir, 
 after after 
 
 "Yes, sir. Our parting was not friendly, and I 
 regret you do not feel like extending the courtesy 
 of an introduction. But my friend, Mr. Kirkley, 
 is outside, Mr. Marquand, and will be pleased to 
 speak for me. And if my kinsman, Mr. Mintern, 
 or Mrs. Mintern, knows any reason why an introduc 
 tion should be barred, I am here to listen, and ask 
 your pardon for dragging our family affairs into your 
 parlor." 
 
 "That is a clear, honest statement, Peter Min 
 tern," said Marquand, regarding Dick with approving
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 143 
 
 eyes. "All thee has brought against this young 
 man is that he sent a telegram asking thy wife to 
 go to her own home and husband. I see no wrong 
 in that, though it does betray some curious interest. 
 
 "It does," acknowledged Dick. "I know this 
 man who really attempted to take Mrs. Mintern 
 from her home at Bay side. Knowing the cause of 
 Mrs. Mintern s quarrel with my uncle, I did what 
 I could to prevail upon her to return, and finally I 
 sent that telegram to second my persuasions." 
 
 "And why all this interest in the family of thy 
 uncle?" 
 
 "I was waiting here to see you on your return, 
 when Mrs. Mintern arrived unexpectedly. Her 
 husband had quarreled with me only a day before 
 had misunderstood some act of mine. I knew he 
 would not approve of his wife meeting me here, 
 when he was not on speaking terms with me. I 
 did not want to leave; so I planned that Mrs. Min 
 tern should do so. That is all." 
 
 " But she knew this telegram was coming she 
 knew it! There is a plot in this, Noah! Susanne, 
 can t you speak? What have you to say of all 
 this?" 
 
 "Nothing," she answered, petulantly. "Only, 
 what he says about the telegram is true. It was 
 sent to offer me a reasonable excuse for leaving 
 quickly." 
 
 "Excuse! What excuse need you have for 
 returning to your husband s house?" sputtered 
 Mr. Mintern, angrily.
 
 144 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 "Well, when I was almost ordered out, and 
 threatened with a divorce, it seemed I did need some 
 excuse for attempting to go back," retorted Susanne, 
 with a wary eye to the effect of that statement on 
 Noah Marquand. " But the real reason for the 
 telegram was an excuse to the family here for my 
 sudden going away. I could not tell them that my 
 husband had quarreled with this man, and would 
 be doubly furious if he heard I met him here. I 
 was endeavoring to save my husband s dignity. 
 He, it seems, is not so careful." 
 
 "Careful! When the message from the sheriff 
 calls me here to find the miscreant I had offered the 
 reward for! Careful! When my own wife contin 
 ues to hide the wretch from justice! When this 
 man here confesses he knows him, yet refuses to tell 
 us who he is! Careful! When the plots on every 
 side are enough to drive a man to murder! Hell 
 and furies! Dick Cardiff, what are you doing here, 
 anyway?" 
 
 "I am waiting to explain that to Mr. Marquand 
 and his daughter." 
 
 "His daughter!" repeated Peter Mintern, with 
 much impatience. "What has the girl to do with 
 all this muddle?" 
 
 Susanne glanced at Dick and laughed. She was 
 not telling, but she was not making it easy for him ; 
 and his jaws set stubbornly as he turned and- gave 
 her one long, silencing look. 
 
 "Mr. Marquand," he said, deliberately, "my rela 
 tions are making the situation as difficult as possible
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 145 
 
 for me the man because he does not know, and the 
 woman because she does. Your daughter is, indeed, 
 the very central cause of my presence here. Mr. 
 Kirkley will vouch for me, if my family will not; 
 and I ask leave to call when you are less 
 occupied." 
 
 "To call concerning my daughter!" repeated 
 Noah Marquand, staring at Dick with a frown of 
 disapproval. "Young man, I knew thy mother 
 once, and was prepared to hear a good account of 
 her son; but thy own relative here connects thy 
 name with a most disgraceful affair. Thee explains 
 not one word to really clear thyself of suspicion; 
 yet thee supposes my daughter and I will 
 ignore it all. My daughter has no cause to know 
 thee." 
 
 "I don t know about that, Uncle Noah," said 
 Dorothy, putting her head inside the window in 
 spite of Rob s remonstrances. "A deputy sheriff 
 insulted Jack two nights ago. Mr. Cardiff threw 
 him from the upper veranda to the lawn below, and 
 I think he cured them of searching this house for 
 runaway slaves for a little while." 
 
 "You did this?" demanded Marquand. 
 
 "Well, there was nothing else to do just then," 
 returned Dick. " But I did not know 
 
 "Thy excuses are needless." And Marquand 
 crossed to the young man and held out his hand. 
 "I know thee inherited slaves, and still hold them; 
 but thy action in favor of runaways I shall not 
 
 forget." 
 10
 
 i 4 6 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 " It was for your daughter, not for the runaways," 
 returned Dick, carelessly. " Faith, I was a runaway 
 myself!" 
 
 "Thee?" 
 
 "You see!" broke in Peter Mintern. "He con 
 fesses ! It was he who ran from that offered reward ! 
 For what else would he be a runaway? Speak out, 
 Susanne! You know, if anyone does. Why else 
 should Dick Cardiff be a runaway?" 
 
 Susanne did not speak; she only looked at Dick 
 and smiled indifferently. Since he had needlessly 
 let himself in for the game, let him play it out! 
 
 Again Dorothy filled the breach. 
 
 "Uncle Noah," she said, much to Dick s surprise, 
 " I think / know how Mr. Cardiff came to be a run 
 away, and the cause does him credit. He ran away 
 to shield someone else, and I ve an idea Mr. Mintern 
 should be thanking him instead of blaming him. 
 Mrs. Mintern was not backward in telling Jack 
 a good deal about it to-day, and she could certainly 
 tell you a little now." 
 
 " Little girl," and Dick was beside her, holding her 
 hand in his, "do you know what was told to Jack?" 
 
 "Well, she heard you and Mrs. Mintern quarrel 
 ing. Then she went to her own room and cried; 
 and when her cousin followed her there, and told 
 her things of your money and your possessions- 
 well, Jack said some hard things, and I heard them, 
 and- 
 
 "What kind of things?" persisted Dick. "Mr. 
 Marquand, have a little patience with us. I need a
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 147 
 
 friend here, and this young lady seems to be the only 
 one on my side. And Jack said?" 
 
 "Jack said she never thought of your money. 
 She did not know about it. She did not even know 
 that Cardiff was your real name, and she thought 
 you \vere the runaway white slave the sheriff was 
 after. That was why she tried to conceal you till" 
 she hesitated and glanced at Marquand "till 
 she could have help for your escape. You had one 
 reason for leaving Maryland, and Jack thought it 
 was another that is all. But there have been 
 some big mistakes all around, and the trouble of it 
 seems to have all come on Jack s shoulders. She s 
 very miserable, and someone ought to be made to 
 pay for it!" 
 
 "Someone shall pay for it, little girl," said Dick, 
 quietly. 
 
 " A runaway slave ! " Marquand was staring hard 
 at Dick. "Thee made such pretense to get into 
 my house to learn 
 
 "Don t think it!" broke in Dick. "There was 
 a mistake on your daughter s part as to my identity, 
 and I did take advantage of it not for the purpose 
 you think, but for the most natural reason in the 
 world for any man who saw her and had just that 
 one chance to remain for even a day beside her. I 
 did not mean to tell you about it in this way; but, 
 after all, any company is good enough to tell the 
 truth in!" 
 
 "By Caesar!" sputtered Peter Mintern, thumping 
 the arm of his chair furiously. " The sheriff trailing
 
 148 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 him on account of kidnaping my wife, and he twists 
 himself out of it by proposing for your daughter!" 
 
 Noah waved him to silence. 
 
 "Must I understand that my daughter knows the 
 reason?" 
 
 "She does now." And Dick faced the frowning 
 face squarely. "I had to tell her though it was 
 little consolation I got for my honesty. She be 
 lieves, instead, the story my uncle has told you." 
 
 "Well, young man, then what does thee intend?" 
 
 "Intend? I ll never leave the county till she 
 believes the truth that s all! " 
 
 "But I cannot countenance such 
 
 "You will give countenance to justice?" 
 
 "Surely." 
 
 "That is all I ask. Your daughter was an angel 
 of mercy to me when she thought I needed help; 
 and if this vile story had not reached her ears I 
 should not have feared to take my chances. But 
 now well, there is only one thing left to do." 
 
 "Pray, what is that?" asked Susanne, with 
 assumed carelessness. "You have got yourself 
 doubly tangled up by this last love affair of 
 yours, Dick. I am interested to know how it is 
 to end." 
 
 "Not by taking any longer the other man s 
 blame, Mrs. Mintern," he said, curtly. "There is 
 but one man who can clear me. I shall start to-day 
 to find him, and if he does not confess the truth 
 the next bullet will find better lodging than the 
 last."
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 149 
 
 "Noah, that is Gleason he means Gleason! 
 By Caesar ! I knew it ! I told you so ! Here we have 
 the man the reward is out for! He has as much as 
 confessed it! He 
 
 "One moment, Mr. Mintern, before you ask for 
 chains and handcuffs for Dick," said Kirkley, who 
 had followed Dorothy into the room. " Did you 
 offer the reward for the man who shot Captain 
 Gleason or for the man who planned to carry your 
 wife away on your own horse that night?" 
 
 "I why, confound your impudence, whoever 
 you are! How can you separate them? It was 
 the same man the same 
 
 "Oh, no, it wasn t," said Dick, quietly; and 
 Susanne turned white as she half rose, and then 
 sank back into the chair, conscious that the eyes 
 of Noah Marquand were on her, and that their 
 expression was in the last degree critical. 
 
 "No, it wasn t, Uncle Mintern. They were two 
 entirely different persons. I, the man who shot 
 your friend, Captain Gleason, was only one of them." 
 
 "You own to your villiany! You confess!" 
 
 "Yes! And now I m going to find your friend, 
 Gleason, and let him tell you who the other man is. 
 You re right, little girl," he said, patting Dorothy s 
 hair kindly. "Jack has been made miserable, and 
 the right people must pay for it. I ask your pardon, 
 Mr. Marquand, for 
 
 "Mans Dick! Mahs Dick!" called a breathless 
 voice on the lawn. And when Dick crossed to the 
 door, Nat fairly stumbled up the stairs.
 
 150 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 "He s gone!" he gasped. "He done hired that 
 driver to turn roun in his tracks, an go lickety 
 split back to the railroad fo the nex train! Took 
 the back track soon as you all got out o sight! 
 Tumbled me out in the road like a sack o meal! 
 An an he done sen his compliments to you, 
 Mahs Dick, an say he hope the sheriff not only 
 cotch yo , but hang yo high as Hamen nex time 
 yo take it on yo se f to interfere in a gnetleman s 
 amusements! An he say his boat will beat yo 
 railroad trains, an - Look out fo missy! She s 
 a-fallen !" 
 
 Susanne had, in fact, risen to her feet, and, sway 
 ing unsteadily for an instant, sunk in a heap beside 
 the chair. Dorothy sprang to her assistance, 
 and Kirkley, at a nod from her, called Tabitha and 
 a maid. 
 
 But Noah Marquand stared hard at Kirkley and 
 Dick for an instant, and then turned to Peter Mintern. 
 
 "Peter," he said, quietly, "the young man rode 
 here to face this question instead of shirking it, and 
 to me it seems not the first favor he has rendered 
 thee. That other man has taken to flight rather 
 than see again the man who has already interfered 
 with his amusements. Does not this tell thee its 
 own story?" 
 
 "Thank you, Mr. Marquand. If if you will 
 only persuade your daughter of its truth!" 
 
 "Time enough time enough for that," said 
 Noah, gently. " I like thy spirit, lad ; and if Jacqcyn- 
 thia thinks But never mind that now! Peter,
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 151 
 
 thee thanked thy friend, the captain, with many 
 words and much care. Has thee no word for thy 
 kinsman, and my guest?" 
 
 "He might have told me the truth at first!" 
 growled Mr. Mintern. 
 
 "What use?" retorted Dick. "You believed 
 Gleason s lies that night the lies he told of me to 
 take suspicion from his own plans. You would 
 have believed him again. I thought I d killed the 
 man that s why I got away. I did not want to 
 face that story with your wife in it ; but when he 
 made up that fiction 
 
 "And she echoed it!" broke in Peter, with sudden 
 insight. "She! Then it was Captain Gleason she 
 shielded from me! And I by Caesar! I 
 
 " Gently, Uncle Mintern ! " said Dick. " What else 
 could she do, with the man wounded on your hands. 
 Perhaps she was afraid you d kill him. The fact 
 that she refused to help nurse him should stand in her 
 favor even refused to stay in the house with him!" 
 
 "By Caesar! So she did! Dick, my boy, you re 
 a trump! You shot him down to save my wife 
 after I d almost ordered you from the house! I 
 was the fool, Dick! But how was I to know? You 
 were not there and Susanne afraid to speak 
 afraid I d kill the villain if I knew! Poor little 
 Susanne! Poor little woman !" 
 
 And as poor Susanne was opening her eyes and 
 beginning to take notice, the other men silently 
 filed out of the living room and left her with her 
 contrite husband and Tabitha.
 
 152 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 Dorothy also slipped out and joined the others, 
 and managed to say to Dick a few words even Rob 
 was not allowed to hear. 
 
 "Don t be too discouraged over what Jack may 
 have said to-day," she whispered. "She took her 
 horse and left for the woods, or the fields, because 
 she s just heartbroken over it all. I think some 
 one ought to go and look for her." 
 
 Of what Kirkley and Dorothy and Tabitha told 
 Noah Marquand of those three days of his absence, 
 there is no record; and of what he and Dick talked 
 for an hour in the arbor, can be left to conjecture. 
 But at the finale of the arbor talk Noah nodded his 
 head, and said, kindly: 
 
 "Thee may try. I can say no more than that. 
 The mischief was in part my own doing. I should 
 have sent back word I had met the two colored 
 men from Maryland three miles from here that 
 morning I went away. I took them to the city as 
 my servants, and they were on their way to friends 
 and out of all danger before I started home. As 
 to Jaqcynthia, I do nothing to influence my child 
 nothing. But thee may ride after her, and thee 
 may tell her I sent you to bring her home." 
 
 He had not far to ride. A mile away, on a hill, 
 there was a belt of woods, and along a timber trail 
 he tracked her filly s steps ; then ahead, clear against 
 the rosy glow of the lowering sun, he saw her pacing 
 to and fro over last year s dead leaves ; and only when 
 he was very close did she hear his step and look up, 
 shrinking fom the sight of him with a cry of protest.
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 153 
 
 But this time he did not halt at her look and ges 
 ture, as he had done on the lawn. This time he 
 could see her eyes heavy with the weight of tears; 
 the white, wretched face of a woman fighting a 
 life battle that was not easy. 
 
 "Sweetheart, your father sent me to ride home 
 with you," he said, with pleading in his eyes. " Will 
 you not listen to me now? I shan t try to tell you 
 what you are to me I can t! But let me prove 
 what I may be to you." 
 
 "Thee can be nothing ever!" she said, in a 
 voice low and striving for steadiness. "Go back 
 and tell Noah Marquand that his daughter will ride 
 alone forever rather than ride beside a murderer, a 
 profligate, the lover of other men s wives!" 
 
 "My Quaker maid!" he said, shaking his head 
 and smiling at her. " I am the lover of but one 
 woman. Look at me! Your anger I can endure, 
 for your father will tell you I have not deserved it; 
 but from the one woman I want love only, and I 
 am at her feet. Look at me!" 
 
 She threw back her head, and turned on him a 
 look of burning rage a dull fury of resentment 
 that he could make her feel all she had felt of joy, 
 of horror, of wild, undreamed-of passions tingling, 
 from her heart to her lips in waves of feeling. 
 
 She knew and fought against the knowledge 
 that, let him be ever so fine a gentleman of blood, 
 of birth, of all worldly eminence; let her be the 
 daughter of generations of sedate Quakers, yet the 
 appeal he made, and to which she responded,
 
 154 MY QUAKER MAID 
 
 reached back beyond all convention, back to the 
 appeal of savage to savage or of god to god ! 
 
 Which was it that swept across the gray-toned 
 page of her life aad left the lurid crimson there? 
 the sign by which she knew that her own life would 
 never more be her own only; the sign she knew 
 sealed a bond between herself and the man who 
 could never be to her the Dick Cardiff the world 
 knew! To her he would be always that unnamed 
 creature of mystery who had looked into her eyes 
 that once in the moonlight under the cedars. 
 
 When she had turned and looked at him at his com 
 mand, she had meant to express only her passionate 
 protest against the power she would never acknowl 
 edge ; to send him from her, to trample under foot 
 
 Then her scornful eyes met his steady gaze, she 
 trembled through all her graceful length, put her 
 hand out blindly to a tree back of her, and stood, 
 facing that compelling appeal in his eyes the 
 sovereignty of a love absolute, claiming only its 
 own when it claimed her ! 
 
 With a shivering, drawn breath that was half a 
 cry of despair, she covered her face with her hands. 
 
 "My Quaker maid!" he whispered, as he drew 
 her close in his arms, and touched with his lips the 
 hands and the burning eyes they tried to hide. 
 "Neither of us will ever be strong enough to fight 
 against this love of ours. Why will you try?" 
 
 The dusk had fallen when they left the belt of 
 timber and walked their horses slowly, slowly toward 
 the homestead.
 
 MY QUAKER MAID 155 
 
 They found Noah Marquand waiting for them 
 at the gate; while Dorothy and Rob remained dis 
 creetly on the opposite side of the veranda. 
 
 Susanne, the misjudged, had agreed to forgive 
 her husband if he took her away at once, which he 
 accordingly had done. And with them went the 
 last of the three days of discord in the house of the 
 cedars. 
 
 Noah listened gravely to what Dick had to say to 
 him that evening, and smiled a little at the impetu 
 osity of those days of strangest wooing ever known, 
 and shook his head in doubt as he took Dick s hand. 
 
 "That thee means to be a Quaker, or any other 
 thing, for her sake is scarcely to be desired," he 
 said, quietly. "To be one s self best becomes a 
 man. This mad wooing has been, I fear, too wild 
 to last ; yet if it prove not so, she may go to thee 
 some day. Is that not her dress in the path by 
 the cedars? Tell her the night air is not without 
 danger at this season." 
 
 But Lady Moon, emerging later from a lacy veil 
 of fog along the river, found two lovers still there 
 in the shadows unafraid of the night.
 
 COMRADES 
 
 A day of exploding shells and raining bullets ; of 
 charging columns, and that roar of a thousand guns 
 that prevents a man hearing the report of his own 
 musket as he touches the trigger. 
 
 And between New Creek Mountain and the cool 
 waters of the Northern Potomac the blue and the 
 gray fought, with all the ardor of patriotism, the 
 battle of Piedmont. 
 
 A detachment of Hunter s men held in reserve 
 were bestirring themselves, with what haste they 
 could, to prepare a mid-day meal, that they might 
 secure it and perhaps also get some repose, before 
 being ordered forward an order momentarily ex 
 pected; for even in the roar of battles tired men 
 sleep, if a space of rest is allowed, and especially do 
 they eat. 
 
 But provisions were scarce along that mountain 
 district. Troops had been quartered for so many 
 months through that section of Northern Virginia 
 that not a feathered fowl nor a stall-fed beef was left 
 in all the land, and one of the mess of the Sixtieth 
 Ohio grumbled over the hardtack and black coffee. 
 "Never mind, Clay," grinned one of his neighbors. 
 We 11 be sent to the front before long if there s
 
 158 COMRADES 
 
 anything in signs, and thin rations may stand you in 
 good stead then. You ll not be so wide a target for 
 the Johnnies." 
 
 "Well," remarked the good-humored fellow 
 called Clay, "s pose I do want good strong feed! 
 I reckon the Johnnies will keep us hustling if we 
 whip them, even on a full stomach; and I don t 
 mean to let myself grow weak on the warpath if I 
 can help it." 
 
 That s the reason why he sticks so close to 
 Zachary Taylor," commented another. "Did you 
 ever see such a forager as that boy is? " 
 
 Pretty good," acknowledged Clay. Have any 
 of you fellows seen him since we halted?" 
 
 No one had. In vain they made inquiries of the 
 various boys in blue. Each was at the moment 
 taking possession of the hasty refreshments, and 
 had little time to give thought to an absent 
 stranger. "Pie s likely prowlen around some 
 farm house looken for chickens," said Tom Henley. 
 Or maybe the racket along the line has scared him 
 into taking to the mountains. He s never been in 
 a regular full-blown battle, you know, and I guess 
 we are pretty near the place where he said he was 
 brought up ain t we?" The question being ad 
 dressed to Clay, who was supposed to know. 
 
 But Clay shook his head and gulped down the 
 black coffee. 
 
 No, Zach never saw this region before ; he s from 
 Pennsylvania, a little north of this. Told me he never 
 was out of the county he was born in till he went
 
 COMRADES 159 
 
 down the river on a raft, and was so frightened at 
 the water getting wider and wider, that at last he 
 just dropped off on the Ohio side and swore he d 
 stick to land and let anybody float who wanted to. 
 Then he listed with the rest of us raw recruit fellows. 
 That s about all he ever says of himself. Never had 
 any schooling back in the mountains. It seems as 
 if they never thought him much good at home, and 
 that s why he took to the raft." 
 
 He ain t much good with a musket," remarked 
 Henley. Say, boys, do you mind the day he told 
 our captain he d rather fill his pockets full of stones 
 to fight the rebs with, than to carry a gun and bother 
 loading it? " 
 
 And the "boys" laughed at the memory of their 
 genial captain s mirth and commented on the absent 
 mountaineer, prophesying that when ordered to the 
 front Zach" would be missing. 
 
 "He ll make a sneak like he did off the raft," 
 suggested one. I tell you a man who is afraid of 
 river water, and who don t like even to carry a gun, 
 can t make much of a soldier." 
 
 But Clay Todd contested the statement. Maybe 
 if he had a good reason for shooting he d pull a 
 trigger with any of you. You like to laugh at him 
 because he d save his lead and throw stones where 
 the rest of you would empty your cartridge belts for 
 a trifle. I take notice the stones he flings always 
 reach their mark." 
 
 "Oh, yes; he can throw stones and whistle," 
 acknowledged Tom, and if he d only drop into
 
 160 COMRADES 
 
 mess with a canteen of mountain dew I d give 
 him license to do both for the rest of his life, and by 
 the great horn spoon! Here he comes." 
 
 The individual approaching had two canteens 
 slung around his neck, and was whistling a quick 
 step though keeping no time to it with his feet. A 
 tall, hulking youth he was, who looked lazily around 
 at the hurry and bustle, and halted once to listen to 
 the thunder of the guns at the front. 
 
 "Had dinner?" he inquired in a soft, apologetic 
 sort of voice. I calculated on getting up to you 
 before this, and having some warm things for the 
 mess. If it ain t too late, here it is." 
 
 The donation was two canteens of whiskey, and 
 some pink and white chunks of freshly killed pork. 
 
 "March pig," he commented, as he emptied it 
 from his haversack, and it makes the nicest kind 
 of fryen meat for them as cares for it, and I allow 
 you would, Clay." 
 
 In a twinkling the meat was in thin strips and 
 being roasted over the coals on the points of bayo 
 nets, while the "mountain dew" was passed 
 around impartially. 
 
 "Where did you fall on all this, Zach?" asked 
 Henley, remorsefully grateful, and reaching for quite 
 as large a share as Todd. I just supposed you 
 were out foraging, or else running away from the 
 thunder over there." 
 
 1 This is a bad sort of country to run in," returned 
 the lazy looking mountain boy, who had enlisted as 
 Zachary Taylor Dorbett. " Most as bad as the
 
 COMRADES 161 
 
 country I come from. If half the hills were shoved 
 into the hollows it would make easier travellen. And 
 I didn t fall over the provender. I paid for the 
 liquor, and keeled the pig over with a stone. It 
 was in a pen on a porch, and must have been a pet. 
 I swear it seemed sort of low down to kill him, but I 
 only cut off a part and left the rest there for the 
 owner; and I was mighty careful not to make a 
 noise. I tell you now, men, I m getting even more 
 triflen than they used to call me at home, for I never 
 did steal when I was home." 
 
 Eat your own share of the dinner, and don t 
 waste time," suggested his messmate. "We are 
 likely to be called out any minute." 
 
 What for?" asked Zachary, mildly curious. And 
 his lazy, innocent blue eyes seemed stupid to the 
 others, as Henley grinned and nodded towards the 
 firing. 
 
 We are likely to be the next to move up to the 
 front," he remarked. How do you feel about it?" 
 
 Zachary stooped and picked up some playing 
 cards, flung in the grass by some soldier preparing 
 for battle perhaps death. 
 
 The mountaineer shuffled them from one hand 
 to the other with clumsy fingers, unused to such 
 manipulations. I don t know as I m feeling about 
 it at all," he answered quietly. It kind of vexes 
 me though when I hear them cannon. Some of 
 these days all of them great captains will get 
 together from both sides and conclude to stop the 
 
 racket, and I d like to know why their brains don t 
 11
 
 162 COMRADES 
 
 tell them to do it before any more men are slauhg- 
 tered with them infernal cannons. That s about 
 how I feel over it." 
 
 Henley s eyes met those of Todd in a smile. 
 Every man of the mess but Todd had decided that the 
 lazy mannered Zachary would be cowardly in the 
 event of battle. He had in him the mildness of 
 a non-combative sheep, and his speech proved that 
 he had none of the spirit of battle which pushes 
 warriors to the defense of their principles their 
 honor. And even Todd, who had taken a sort of 
 liking to the soft -toned, hulking fellow, wished he 
 would talk a little more like a soldier. 
 
 And then the bugle sounded. The waited for 
 summons had come. They were wanted at the 
 front. 
 
 Zachary arose, his toasted pork sizzling on his 
 bayonet, from which the grease dripped as he went 
 the most un warlike picture one could imagine. 
 
 1 Where do they want us? " he asked, and slouch 
 ed along at Todd s heels. 
 
 "Come! Fall in, men!" commanded an officer. 
 Here, you straggler of Company E, do you fancy 
 this is a blanked banquet? Well, it is not, nor a 
 dress parade either, as you ll find out. Drop that 
 bacon and fall in." 
 
 Zachary dropped the bacon into his mouth, and 
 sidled into his place in the ranks, with his big blue 
 eyes resting benevolently on the annoyed face of 
 his officer. 
 
 And the officer, amused at the incongruous figure,
 
 COMRADES 163 
 
 turned his back sharply on the greasy -mouthed 
 Zachary, to hide his smile, and proceeded to issue 
 commands for the quick forming of the men, all the 
 while silently sympathizing with himself and mut 
 tering about the "stupid louts" out of whom he 
 was supposed to manufacture soldiers. 
 
 Some of those greenhorns will have to fight 
 better than their appearance promises or they will 
 put a mighty black mark on the regiment," he 
 prophesied darkly ; and, in scanning the lines, his 
 sombre gaze once more chanced to fall on the placid, 
 irresponsible countenance of the company s jest 
 Zachary. 
 
 Then the lines in front began to move to the in 
 spiring quickstep of the band, and Company E fell 
 into the current and was swept on on to battle. 
 In where the fight had raged they marched, across 
 the battle ground from which the Confederates had 
 so lingeringly retreated and up further still, toward 
 what Zachary was told was "the front," and where 
 the enemy was yet making a defiant stand. 
 
 Once, as the wind blew the smoke away to one 
 side, Zachary perceived other ranks than those of 
 his own regiment, moving on their right, and when 
 he saw the open spaces between the lines of men as 
 they swung around he thought of the even rows of 
 standing corn he had hoed so often in Pennsylvania s 
 hills. 
 
 "Who are they? " he asked, curious as a child, 
 though he was marching possibly to death. 
 
 "Oh, that s the regiment the boys were talking
 
 164 COMRADES 
 
 of in camp last night," returned Clay Todd, who 
 was on his left. The regiment they said showed the 
 white feather in the battle of Burk s Landing." 
 
 "They look nice and shiny," observed the moun 
 taineer. The next instant his company was ordered 
 forward on the double-quick, and descending a knoll 
 he saw reaching out before him the terrible tempest 
 of battle. 
 
 "My God! Look at that!" said Clay, half un 
 consciously, as a field piece pointing towards them 
 from across the level belched forth its fury, and a 
 great swath of men in blue were mowed down as 
 when a scythe is swung through the grass of the 
 meadows. 
 
 "It s hell let loose that s what it is," said 
 Zachary, and he gripped his musket tighter as he 
 trotted forward. He saw their captain and heard 
 the quick, sharp commands, but Zachary did not 
 heed them much. It was easier to just watch the 
 rest and do as they did, as they advanced on the 
 enemy, firing volleys at regular intervals as they 
 went. The smoke was so thick that he could 
 scarcely see at what he was firing ; but he could see 
 the flag there ahead and had a half formed idea that 
 they must all keep up to the flag. That was just 
 about the extent of his knowledge of military tactics, 
 after all the drilling he had gone through. 
 
 Then somehow in the turmoil he drifted away 
 from his one friend, Clay Todd, and the faces about 
 him were seen as in a mist and whirl of tempests. 
 But the men wore blue coats and were firing at the
 
 COMRADES 165 
 
 grays, who held a knoll ; and he fired when they did 
 and kept his eye on the flag. 
 
 And then something happened. Right before 
 him a great shell burst, and men fell in every direc 
 tion. For one instant he saw the man who carried 
 the flag whirl around like a top, and then the flag 
 wavered in his dying hand. 
 
 But it did not fall. Zachary never knew how he 
 reached the man s side; but he leaped over the 
 mangled bodies before him and caught both the flag 
 and its bearer. 
 
 The bearer was a man with gray in his hair, and 
 he leaned heavily on Zachary s arm and clutched at 
 the flagstaff for support ; then realizing that earthly 
 help was past for him, he relinquished the colors an^ 
 looked up into the tall mountaineer s face. 
 
 "You take it," he whispered, "and to the front 
 there to the front! " 
 
 Zachary nodded, and eased the man to the ground, 
 from where he never arose, and a new color bearer 
 carried the flag forward. 
 
 All was crash, crash about him. He heard no 
 orders from officers. The crack of the rifles, the 
 thunder of the cannon, the cheers, the groans of the 
 dying, were whirling together in his brain. 
 
 He realized that he was in a clear, open space. 
 Before him was a level field ; and beyond that, on a 
 rise, the mass of gray-garbed men, and the white 
 line of smoke floating upwards from their guns. 
 
 He turned once to see where the bluecoats were, 
 and found they were behind him, and seemed to be
 
 166 COMRADES 
 
 wavering. He heard furious commands and oaths 
 from his captain, while from the right there swept in 
 that regiment he had thought so nice and shiny. 
 
 He saw their colors floating proudly above the 
 thin blue-white smoke the colors of that regiment 
 which the men said had shown the white feather" 
 once ; and it was going into action ahead of his own 
 company. That other man, the man who carried 
 that other flag, was going up where he had been told 
 to go by their grizzled color bearer. And his own 
 flag! He looked up where its graceful folds 
 floated softly above him. Was it to waver in his 
 hands? to go back to the rear, while that other 
 regiment, called cowardly, took first place? 
 
 He had never been taught a prayer in his life, but 
 something like one arose to his lips as he looked back 
 at his own company. 
 
 "Oh, God come on!" he muttered, and waving 
 his hat to them he started ahead, alone, for 
 that knoll on the crest of which the enemy was 
 entrenched. 
 
 He heard shouts behind him, but he never halted 
 until he had dashed past the line of that other regi 
 ment. He expected with every step the shot that 
 would kill him as had been killed the other color 
 bearer, but he felt a grim determination that it 
 should kill him ahead of that other flag, and not 
 behind it. 
 
 When he had passed them all he stopped at a 
 shout from behind him. It was a command from 
 his captain, who was hastening furiously ahead of
 
 COMRADES 167 
 
 the line to prevent both bearer and flag from falling 
 into the hands of the enemy. 
 
 "Come back, you fool!" he shouted, "come 
 back! Bring the colors back to the regiment! " 
 
 Zachary lifted the flagstaff and drove it down 
 furiously in the meadow soil. 
 
 "Bring your regiment up to the colors, Captain," 
 he shouted stubbornly. For I 11 be damned if this 
 flag retreats while I carry it." 
 
 The men of his own regiment could not hear his 
 words, but the action spoke for itself, it was so elo 
 quent with meaning. And, with a cheer that leaped 
 upwards to heaven, the boys of Ohio swept forward 
 to first place in the front line nor relinquished it 
 until the day was won. 
 
 Zachary watched them coming, and a large, lazy 
 smile broke over his face, as he looked from the 
 elevation he had reached, and complacently eyed 
 that other flag, now in the rear of the ranks of his 
 own regiment. 
 
 Then a ball struck his arm and stung like a burn 
 and his wrist dropped, nerveless, and the flag had to 
 be held in his left hand. 
 
 From that on all was a tempest about him, and he 
 no more stood alone. His comrades were fighting 
 around him, and he did not know whether they were 
 following him, or only bearing him with them; but 
 all together they were advancing on the knoll. Once 
 he stumbled over a dying man, and in the new awk 
 wardness of his wounded arm, he could not recover 
 himself quickly, and the flag wavered with him 
 downwards.
 
 168 COMRADES 
 
 "The colors are down!" some voice shouted, 
 and then there was a cheer. He thought it was a 
 cheer from the Southern men, and he recovered him 
 self and lunged forward in a sort of fury up the steep 
 bit of bank the enemy had fought so valiantly to 
 hold. 
 
 "The colors are up! "called Zachary over all the 
 turmoil ; and holding the flagstaff against his breast 
 with the elbow of his wounded arm, he used the 
 other for assistance and defense, as he dug his 
 fingers into the bullet-riddled bank and pulled him 
 self up to the summit. 
 
 Two gray-clad arms lunged at him with a bayonet, 
 another cut downwards at him, and he only avoided 
 a murderous blow by swinging to one side. One 
 bullet carried his cap from his head, and one clipped 
 off a bit of his ear ; they went zing zing past him, 
 but he never moved ; and then the bluecoats rushing 
 up to where he had led, made a final charge over the 
 knoll that had been a fortress, and scattered or cap 
 tured the defeated defenders. 
 
 And the mountaineer, standing there on the breast 
 works with the colors yet hugged to his breast, list 
 ened to the cheers of victory, but did not join in 
 them. He was thinking strangely of that gray- 
 haired color bearer who had given the flag into his 
 hands. 
 
 Well, I took it where he told me to go with it, 
 up front," he told himself, and looked around dog 
 gedly as he heard the voice of his captain near him. 
 He expected at least a reprimand for disobeying
 
 COMRADES 169 
 
 orders, and then remembering that he had sworn 
 at the captain, in addition to being insubordinate, 
 he concluded he would be court-martialed maybe 
 shot. 
 
 For it never occurred to him that he had saved the 
 reputation of his regiment ; that but for his example 
 those wavering, raw companies holding back there 
 would have communicated their panic to the rest, 
 and have caused a stampede in the face of the enemy, 
 and under the eyes of the other Federal troops, who 
 would ever have held them in disdain from that day. 
 
 But Zachary knew nothing of that, and only 
 looked mildly puzzled when his captain said: 
 
 Dorbett, you are a credit to your regiment, and 
 I thank you for helping to make your regiment a 
 credit to you in this engagement. The general wants 
 to speak to you." 
 
 Then he stepped aside, and the mountain boy per 
 ceived the simply uniformed man whom he had ad 
 mired from afar, but by whom he had never hoped to 
 be noticed. And the tawny, keen-eyed commander 
 glanced over the uncouth figure holding the flag, 
 noted the useless hand dangling from the wounded 
 wrist, the bared head and the blood trickling down 
 along the ear and neck, and Zachary gazing at him 
 in complacent admiration, not understanding at all 
 what the captain meant by speaking of the regi 
 mental credit. 
 
 He had even forgotten the iron-clad requirements 
 of military discipline, and did not salute the com 
 mander until reminded by the captain.
 
 170 COMRADES 
 
 But the commander did not seem to notice that, 
 or at least did not allow it to prejudice him, for his 
 eyes rested kindly on the raw recruit. 
 
 "What is your name, my boy?" he asked, and 
 Zachary remembered to salute that time as he 
 answered: 
 
 Zachary Taylor Dorbett, Private, Company E, 
 Sixtieth Ohio." 
 
 "And to-day most notably a color bearer," con 
 cluded the general. "Well, Zachary Dorbett, I 
 saw you plant that flag down there and call your 
 regiment up to you ; I saw you later, disabled as you 
 were, make a stand here alone on the bank, in the 
 face of terrible odds the first man to mount it. For 
 the valor of that act, and for the example you have 
 set your comrades to-day, I make you color sergeant, 
 and am glad to be able to show practical apprecia 
 tion of courage like yours, my boy. You have the 
 stuff of a brave soldier in you. See that you never 
 fail the cause you fight for." 
 
 Zachary grinned sheepishly at the words of praise, 
 having little idea of what it meant to most men to be 
 promoted in one s first engagement for valor on the 
 field of battle, and promoted, too, by the general in 
 person . 
 
 "I don t reckon I know much about being ser 
 geant, but I m glad enough you think I carried the 
 flag right. And if I d had some rocks in my pockets 
 I could have spieled over some of them rebs who 
 were hustlen me so close. But it s all right any 
 way, and I 11 tote the flag, or be any kind of a soldier 
 vou want to make of me."
 
 COMRADES 171 
 
 The general smiled as he walked away with the 
 captain. 
 
 " If you have many like that one, you have need 
 of a strict drill master," he remarked to his subordi 
 nate. 
 
 1 He has no more idea of discipline or ambition 
 than a pig," answered the captain. Yet, when 
 aroused, he has the very devil in him. Well, we 
 cannot have too much of such raw material. From 
 it our best soldiers are made." 
 
 Thus ended the day of Zachary s first battle. And 
 when camp was pitched for the night he slouched 
 around, in a shamefaced way, to the boys of his mess, 
 whom he had carefully avoided after the engagement. 
 He was pretty sure they would make fun of him 
 because he was the one among them to be chosen for 
 promotion. But when Tom Henley jumped up and 
 grabbed his left hand and squeezed it hard, and then 
 turned to the rest and said : 
 
 "Three cheers for Zachary, boys!" And when 
 the boys swelled the chorus for him, and regarded 
 him with a sort of puzzled respect well, Zachary 
 could understand that better than he could the 
 words of the captain or the general. 
 
 And before they broke camp, Clay Todd helped 
 him to write a letter to Mrs. Bethia Ellen Dorbett, 
 of Fayette County, Pennsylvania, telling her of his 
 promotion, and of the little clip taken off his right 
 ear. Just like they mark our pigs at home," he 
 confided to his amanuensis. But he concluded he 
 would not tell his mother of the arm that was dis-
 
 172 COMRADES 
 
 abled, or of the right hand that would never be quite 
 strong again, as the army surgeon said. 
 
 Afterwards, Private Todd always approved of him 
 self for insisting that Zachary should write home at 
 once. Otherwise none of Zach s comrades would 
 have known Mrs. Dorbett s address. 
 
 They were crossing the Potomac in the early dusk 
 of the morning. Hastily constructed rafts had been 
 passing and repassing with a brigade which had been 
 ordered eastward, along the Maryland shore. 
 
 Several times men skirmishing out from the main 
 body had been picked off by sharpshooters concealed 
 in the vast forest, or the thick underbrush along the 
 shores of the river. 
 
 And so it chanced that Sergeant Dorbett was 
 singled out by one of those hidden marksmen, per 
 haps because he was taller than his comrades. He 
 was on the very edge of their rude craft, and when 
 hit, fell straight back into the water without a cry ; 
 but not before his comrades had seen the murderous 
 wound in his head. 
 
 Well, it don t matter now to Zachary whether 
 his grave is in the ground or the water," remarked 
 one of the men. And we could not have helped him 
 anyway, foi he was dead before he went under." 
 
 And when the regimental list of the killed was made 
 out, the name of Color Sergeant Z. T. Dorbett, Com 
 pany E, Sixtieth Ohio, was included, and Private 
 Todd carried out what he thought would have been 
 the dead soldier s wish, and wrote the sad news to 
 that mother up there in the Pennsylvania moun 
 tains.
 
 COMRADES 173 
 
 And the waves of the vast armies swept on, carry 
 ing before them ever the wreckage of hearts and 
 homes. And the uncouth boy who had been the 
 butt of the company jokes, and who had carried the 
 colors that one day, became only a far-away memory 
 in the minds of his comrades whom the fortunes 
 of war were driving through many battles across the 
 land. 
 
 In the sorry days of reconstruction, after that 
 final meeting at Appomattox, various were the ways 
 to which the people along the dividing line of the 
 States were forced to resort for livelihood. They 
 had been so willing to face starvation as long as 
 there was the hope of victory as an inspiration. But 
 the cold, spiritless existence on the ruins of shattered 
 idols! Ah, well! The starvation of the heart is 
 harder to endure, sometimes, than the starvation of 
 the body. 
 
 Even the freed blacks, childishly dependent as 
 they were on white guidance, enjoyed more of privi 
 lege in some ways than their former masters; for 
 they had no fires to rekindle on the wrecked altars of 
 homes made sacred through generations of ancestry. 
 
 And a little way up from the Potomac, on the 
 Maryland side of the river, one of those colored men 
 a refugee of war days had found for himself a 
 little cabin against the hill where a spring bubbled. 
 
 The freed colored people did not usually lead an 
 enviable life in that district; but, some way, old 
 Jubal was allowed more privileges than most, per-
 
 174 COMRADES 
 
 haps because he was such a cheery, helpful fellow, 
 besides being an herb doctor who never levied fees 
 heavier than a little corn meal or a few potatoes, and 
 who was always ready to aid any one, without 
 question as to color or condition. 
 
 " Fo I was a strangah in youah Ian an yo took 
 me in," quoted Jubal sometimes to the white neigh 
 bors who commended his wide charity; for Jubal 
 was wonderfully religious, and was very fond of 
 repeating the texts of the preachers whom he had 
 heard in his day. 
 
 Jubal was not alone on his little estate w r here the 
 spring bubbled so cheerily and the high hills leaned 
 close as if to shelter the small plateau where he 
 worked. There were two rooms in his little house. 
 One was a "lean-to" where the cook-fire was and 
 the few dishes and the hickory and tools with w r hich 
 Jubal made chairs and baskets on wet days. Over 
 the more pretentious front room was a loft reached 
 by a ladder, where he slept on a " shake -down" ; 
 while on the "sure enough" bed below stairs Mr. 
 Malcolm Poindexter took his rest. 
 
 The people about there were always a little curious 
 about Mr. Malcolm Poindexter, who surveyed callers 
 with quiet dignity and addressed them civilly and 
 retired promptly to his own room when they sought 
 to penetrate his reasons for thus living year after 
 year with never a white companion no one but 
 Doctor Jubal. 
 
 He seldom conversed with strangers, and when 
 asked what branch of the army he had belonged
 
 COMRADES 175 
 
 to (because he always wore the blue of the North) he 
 only replied that he liked the color, and did not wear 
 it because of any particular reason. And after 
 awhile the people all concluded that Mr. Malcolm 
 Poindexter was "queer" in the head, and it was 
 generally believed that he was a branch of a grand 
 Carolina family whom Jubal said he had belonged 
 before those days of carnage. 
 
 But this Poindexter of the blue clothes and the blue 
 wondering eyes was not at all grand. He would fry 
 the fish and bake the corn cake against Jubal s 
 home-coming many an evening, and he had consid 
 erable skill in manufacturing baskets of white oak 
 splints work, however, that he never touched if 
 any but himself and the herb doctor were there. 
 
 " Fo tain t no use argin an old worn out debate 
 with me, Mr. Malcolm, honey," old Jubal would say 
 with respectful authority. No one called by the 
 ristocratic name o the Poindexters evah did stir up 
 hoe cake an sich like work, an that s just the true 
 reason I give you that fine quality name. I like 
 the freedom, an I like this fire of my own an this 
 roof of my own. But there is one special thing I 
 certainly did grieve after in this land, an that was 
 quality folks the real, ole kind o quality, thet was 
 so fine an grand, an walked like the rulers o the 
 airth all ovah Callino." 
 
 Yes, you ve told me a heap about them, Jubal," 
 said Mr. Poindexter, with the pleased anticipation 
 of a story in his eyes. They must a been mighty 
 fine folks, an had great goings on."
 
 1 76 COMRADES 
 
 Um ! You don t rec lect nothen at all concernen 
 them?" 
 
 " Nothing at all, Jubal." 
 
 And then the odd pair sat in silence and thought 
 for a little while a season of thought likely to be 
 repeated to-morrow, and all the to-morrows, for it 
 was a question asked by Jubal daily, and the answer 
 was always the same, and had been the same for six 
 years. 
 
 "An so," continued Jubal, "I don t noways 
 allow these poo white trash round here folks that 
 never did live mongst quality I don t noways 
 allow to let them see you beaten up the batter an 
 sich like. You got the fine name o the Poindexters, 
 an you is moral bound to keep up the dignity o* 
 that name. Huh! How you allow to do it with the 
 batter crock, honey? " 
 
 "But, maybe, Jubal, the batter crock fits me 
 better than the fine name," and the tall, blue eyed 
 fellow stared gloomily into the fire where their supper 
 cooked. 
 
 "Now, don t you get to think like that, child 
 you hear me!" said the old man hastily. "Fo* 
 you well know that when you get cloudy thoughts 
 in youah haid, it s bound to pain you shameful spite 
 o my docteren. Why shouldn t that name fit you 
 good? Don t you mind well how I said, first time 
 I sot eyes on you, that you certainly must be cousin 
 to the Poindexters ? Jest the same tall, easy sort o 
 man as they, an with eyes as blue as that other Mr. 
 Malcolm, who was so petted on me, an who died
 
 COMRADES 177 
 
 jest afore the war come along; an jest that same 
 low voice, easy way o talken that they had; jest 
 the real quality way; no sah, don t you never talk 
 to me about batter crocks. Somewheres we ll hear 
 tell o your family, one o these days ; an when we 
 do it s sure to be among quality folks. Now you 
 mind the words o Jubal! " 
 
 "But it won t be among the Poindexters," said 
 the other man with a smile. He always pretended 
 to treat the prophecies of Jubal as a jest. 
 
 Why not, now ? It s jest as likely " 
 
 But not very likely they would be wearing this 
 color o clothes," and the white man glanced down 
 at the army blue of his garments. 
 
 No, n no," assented Jubal. The quality folks 
 of ole Callino did sure despise them blue colored 
 uniforms. That s the onliest way I can t reconcile 
 you an my Mr. Malcolm, cause he never would a 
 worn them, an you kind o feel lost in any other 
 color that s curious, honey, it s certain curious. 
 But it s kind o lucky, too, seein as I picked up such 
 a powerful lot o soldier clothes when followen along 
 the trail of Morgan s raid into the Ohio State. I tell 
 you it was amazen the lot o plunder his men gathered 
 up that they couldn t carry. I picked up all the 
 uniforms I could stagger under. I was too old for 
 the fight or the march, but was still able to look after 
 one sick soldier when I found him one who had 
 nigh about give his life for my freedom that s jest 
 the way the notion looked to me, Mr. Malcolm. An 
 it do look like as if the Lord had sent us blessings 
 
 12
 
 178 COMRADES 
 
 evah since, for our baskets certainly do bring a leetle 
 higher price than many I see. An that sort o work 
 an the ginsang hunts do agree with you wonderful." 
 
 "Yes," assented the man, who was generally a 
 listener at their fireside- -Jubal was the conversa 
 tionalist. "Yes; but do you know, Uncle Jubal, 
 we haven t been in the woods to live for a long 
 time? " 
 
 "Well, there now!" And Jubal s wrinkled 
 black hands clapped his knees in delight. I was 
 thinken o that very thing myself to-day, an won 
 dered if you d mind it an you did! You did all 
 by yourself! Oh, I tell you, Mr. Malcolm, that 
 trouble in youah haid s menden mightily it cer 
 tainly is. I ll be expecten to have you wake up 
 some o these mawnings an tell rne all about where 
 you was brought up, an how you got that skull 
 wound that s hurt your memory so much, an all 
 sich." 
 
 The kindly colored face was beaming with antici 
 pation ; and all the while he was watching, stealthily, 
 the face of the other man to learn if his enthusiasm 
 was at all contagious, or if any gleam of memory 
 shone in the eyes of Mr. Poindexter. He ever hovered 
 around the bearer of that honored name, like a nurse 
 guiding the instincts of a child, and sometimes the 
 means resorted to by the darkey guardian to arouse 
 the interest of his protege were grotesque in the 
 extreme. But to Jubal they were all-absorbing, and 
 had been, ever since the day when he found the 
 wounded soldier.
 
 COMRADES 179 
 
 Just after the battle of Piedmont, the armies had 
 passed on, leaving this disabled one ; and Jubal had 
 found him stretched, wet and unconscious, at the 
 river s edge, and so near death s door that it took 
 all the science of herb cures to get him on his feet 
 again. But the science of herbs could not bring 
 back the memory driven out by the murderous lead. 
 Still, old Jubal did what he could, and felt a comfort 
 in thus working for the Union. And then his fond 
 ness for his patient grew strong through the utter 
 dependence on him of the tall, young blueccat " 
 a dependence instinctive and not reasoning the 
 dependence of a little child who must be taught all 
 things. 
 
 And then Jubal named him, and took to himself a 
 protege as master, being not without pride at the 
 effect his Mr. Poindexter produced on the few people 
 who ever saw him. The silence of Mr. Poindexter 
 appeared like dignity and superiority to the people 
 of the sparsely-settled neighborhood where Jubal did 
 his doctoring and tinkering and manufacturing. 
 And never under any circumstances was the master 
 allowed to assist at the chair or basket making if 
 any alien eyes were; about. 
 
 Mr. Poindexter must in the eyes of society live 
 like a gentleman, and Jubal could not imagine a gen 
 tleman doing anything so low-down as manual labor. 
 
 And while Mr. Poindexter really preferred the 
 labor, when no one was looking, he became little by 
 little imbued with Jubal s own ideas as to position 
 and caste, and more than half believed the old
 
 i8o COMRADES 
 
 fellow s prophesies as to a probable grand past and 
 a mystical, fairy -like future that would one day come 
 to him. 
 
 "When you finds youah own again, honey hi! I 
 tell you of one black man who will dance the pigeon- 
 wing that day," he was in the habit of saying; and 
 Mr. Poindexter would smile in his quiet way and nod, 
 and over their evening fires they would build fine 
 castles out of their imaginations a pastime Jubal 
 delighted in. 
 
 To those two living in their log cabin, away back 
 in the river hills of Maryland, no newspapers ever 
 came ; and neither could have read them if they had 
 come. Their nearest neighbors were over a mile 
 away a family whose only occupation was the 
 making of shingles to ship down the river on rafts, 
 in the springtime, and whose knowledge of the great 
 outside world was as limited as that of children. 
 
 The way in which the master directed the affairs 
 of their little home would not have been very plain 
 to an outsider, for Jubal would generally say : Mr. 
 Malcolm, don t you reckon I d bettah work in the 
 garden patch this mawning? They s sure to be a 
 shower afore night." 
 
 And Mr. Malcolm would invariably reply : Yes, 
 Jubal." 
 
 Or sometimes it was a trip to the settlement where 
 the baskets were sold, or a journey into far timber 
 lands for certain medicinal roots; but wherever or 
 whatever the action, the old darkey would say: 
 Don t you think we d bettah, Mr. Malcolm ?" And
 
 COMRADES 181 
 
 the answer was always the same "Yes, Jubal." 
 
 And thus did Mr. Poindexter rule; his ideas 
 always being but a shadow of the thoughts of Jubal. 
 
 But one morning, when the robin was building its 
 nest in the tall wild cherry by the door, Mr. Poin 
 dexter sat in the early sunshine with his head on his 
 hand, until Jubal, drawing near and noting some 
 thing unusual in his face, asked : You sick, Mr. 
 Malcolm?" 
 
 "No, Jubal." 
 
 That hole in youah haid ain t given you trouble 
 again? " 
 
 "No, Jubal." 
 
 But Jubal worked in the little garden patch and 
 kept one eye free to note any further symptoms of 
 illness, mental or physical, in his master, who all the 
 morning was unusually quiet, and seemed actually 
 to be thinking. 
 
 At last, however, when the old darkey came near 
 to rest a bit in the shade of the wild cherry, Mr. 
 Poindexter said: 
 
 "Jubal, you ve told me a heap about dreams, 
 just what they are like and all. Well, I never could 
 understand what you meant before, but I reckon I 
 do now, for I surely did have something like a dream 
 last night." 
 
 "Glory! Now! It s one step more one step 
 
 nearer," cried Jubal, hugging himself in his delight. 
 
 Now, honey, I see plain why you been thinken so 
 
 solemn like all the day. Now, Mr. Malcolm, le s 
 
 heah youah dream, true as you can mind it."
 
 1 82 COMRADES 
 
 "Well, Jubal, I m only maken a guess that it 
 was a dream," said Mr. Poindexter carefully. "I 
 never had anything like it before and it worries me 
 someway. It started off with that toothache root 
 you allowed yesterday you must go and hunt." 
 
 "Toothache root? Oh, yes, I mind about that," 
 nodded Jubal. "I was kind o discouraged cause 
 it s getting so powerful scarce. Yes, I mind." 
 
 "It was the scarceness I dreamed of first," said 
 Mr. Poindexter. : We was maken search along the 
 banks of a little branch, and we found leaves that 
 looked like it leaves like little strawberry runners, 
 but when we dug down for the root they didn t have 
 the little white jointed root o the toothache cure." 
 
 "Humph! that s easy to dream," murmured 
 Jubal. "Now I was in hopes you d dreamed 
 where we could find the true kind." 
 
 "That s just what I did, too," affirmed the 
 dreamer. "But I ve been tryen, tryen hard, all 
 this day since I woke up, to bring in my mind just 
 where we got on the path that took us there. It 
 was a long, long way. We crossed over a river, and 
 up into mountains where the big laurel was thick all 
 along the high streams. We went along one place 
 where the rocks were bigger than houses, and away 
 in between them we found ice and snow piles, though 
 all around that place the little laurel was full of 
 flowers." 
 
 "That s to the north," said Jubal, complacently, 
 "now go on, honey. What else growed there? " 
 
 "The trees you call water birch was all along
 
 COMRADES 183 
 
 where the rocks were, and some pines, and oh, yes 
 
 
 He stopped and stared at Jubal as if for a solu 
 tion of some thought that swept to him suddenly. 
 
 "Well, Mr. Malcolm -well, what is it?" asked 
 Jubal, nervously; for after a lethargy of five years 
 Mr. Poindexter was aroused to something of inde 
 pendent thought and imagination. 
 
 He did not answer at once, but looked up into the 
 wild cherry tree where the mated robins were chat 
 tering busily over their new nest. Then he said: 
 Birds like that were there, and I was talken to 
 them in my dream, and they would answer me." 
 
 Law, Mr. Malcolm, how would wild robins in 
 the woods know how to talk youah talk? " 
 
 They didn t ; I talked their talk, just like you 
 whistle when you call to me from away off." 
 
 Just then the robin above him chirruped as it 
 fluttered about, and looking up at it he puckered up 
 his lips, hesitated and looked at Jubal in a shame 
 faced, apologetic fashion, and then tried to answer 
 its call. 
 
 The first attempt was a little clumsy, and the bird 
 turned its head on one side and surveyed him in 
 derisive silence ; but when he called again in a lower, 
 softer strain, she fluttered to a twig lower down, and 
 sent out again her wooing song. 
 
 That is just what the bird in my dream whis 
 tled," said Mr. Poindexter. "Only there were 
 other birds, too." 
 
 "Try and whistle some more, like other kind o
 
 1 84 COMRADES 
 
 birds, too," cried the delighted Jubal. I tell you, 
 Mr. Malcolm, there s a heap in dreams sometimes, 
 and you ain t maken them bird calls for the first 
 time in youah life no, sir. Why, I couldn t whistle 
 like that if I tried a year I couldn t. Now, honey, 
 that dream done mark a path for us to walk in, it 
 certainly did ; and we 11 start on it afore long, if the 
 Lord s willen. But you keep up a whistlen, Mr. 
 Malcolm." 
 
 And Mr. Malcolm did so, and, as much to his own 
 amazement as to that of Jubal s, he found that the 
 birds themselves were often decoyed by his calls. 
 
 For many days Jubal watched Mr. Poindexter 
 closely through breakfast, and then, observing noth 
 ing unusual in his appearance, he would ask : No 
 dream come last night, honey? " 
 
 "No, Jubal." 
 
 But Jubal asked early and often of Mr. Poin 
 dexter s one dream, and of the exact ledge of 
 rocks where the laurel and the water birch grew, 
 and of the sort of little ravine in which the desired 
 toothache root buried itself. And the result of 
 Jubal s thinking over the affair came to a climax 
 when one morning he said : 
 
 "Mr. Malcolm, I ve been thinken we sartinly 
 ought to try and hunt some o that toothache root. 
 Seems to me most everybody I try to sell herbs to 
 asks first thing for toothache cure. Now, we ain t 
 been on a real tramp nowheres since way last fall 
 and I sort o crave a change. Don t you think we 
 might jest shut up the house for a few weeks, and
 
 COMRADES 185 
 
 take the way up across that river, and into the north 
 country where that toothache root grows? " 
 
 "Yes, Jubal." 
 
 And thus it occurred that Mr. Poindexter and 
 Jubal set forth, much as two children would wander 
 into a wilderness for a picnic. With well filled 
 haversacks, they marched like kings along the 
 shadowed by-paths, where the birds called to them 
 as they went. Where the widely divided farms 
 were reached they were always almost sure of a mug 
 of milk, though often accompanied by kindly meant 
 questions sadly confusing to the white man. What 
 regiment was he in? Where did he get the wound 
 in his head? And why was his right hand and arm 
 shriveled away until it was so much smaller than 
 his left? 
 
 And Mr. Poindexter could only roll up his sleeve 
 and show where a bullet had evidently entered, and 
 another place where it had been cut out again, and 
 then he would generally walk away, and Jubal be 
 left to explain, as best he could, that his master s 
 head had been injured so much that it was bad for 
 him to think of or discuss his wounds; and then he 
 would always manage to ask carelessly if any neigh 
 bors about there had been in the big fight down by 
 the Potomac River the one that folks called the 
 battle of Piedmont. 
 
 But no replies seemed to satisfy him, and then 
 they would tramp on the white man and the 
 black, each clad for this quest of theirs in the blue 
 uniform of the North.
 
 1 86 COMRADES 
 
 And as ever when they chanced to pass any fine 
 estate, Jubal would say: "Maybe now, Mr. Mal 
 colm, some of youah kinsfolks live there." Or if a 
 finely equipped carriage went by them on the road, 
 they would look at each other in silent understand 
 ing that some day they would ride just so; and 
 Jubal was to drive the horses. For one of the in 
 born ideas of Jubal s soul was that gentlemen always 
 did keep horses and carriages. 
 
 Then they reached a great wide road called the 
 national" the finest road they had ever seen, as it 
 wound around mountains, and dropped by easy 
 gradations into the valleys. Jubal asked where the 
 north end of it led to, and was told by a farmer of its 
 wide reaching length across the States, and that after 
 passing through the great meadow country it wound 
 the last mountain, that mountain called the 
 Laurel range." 
 
 "Laurel range! Laurel!" repeated Jubal in 
 some excitement. Big laurel grow there? " 
 
 About as big as you re likely to find," remarked 
 the stranger, and lots of wild land along it. But 
 the meadow country on this side, and the settlements 
 on the other side, are all pretty clear. You 11 reach 
 the laurel hills in a couple of days easy walken, and 
 I guess your boss ain t a fast traveler, is he? " 
 
 "No, sir no, he ain t. A bullet scraped the 
 inside of his skull too close to leave him the same 
 strong gentleman he has been. But we do hope this 
 here walk will do good to his health; so we re a 
 taken it easy."
 
 COMRADES 187 
 
 Both of you soldiers? " asked the farmer, gath 
 ering up his reins, preparatory to starting along the 
 road they had come. I see you both wear the 
 uniform." 
 
 Ye yes, sir, we does ; but only my boss, es you 
 call him, sir, did really fight in the war. I was 
 so old they wouldn t take me. But I wear the blue 
 clothes for dress up, an I ve been in service for the 
 cause. Yes, sir; though I never did carry a gun, 
 I ve done the best service I could for the cause." 
 And then he pushed ahead beside Mr. Poindexter, 
 and all along the great meadow " country he never 
 diverged in the slightest from the direct road, though 
 they passed many a wooded ravine where the tooth 
 ache cure might have grown. And the watchful 
 black eyes noted with pleasure that they were enter 
 ing the neighborhood of plenty and evident pros 
 perity. Droves of fine cattle pastured in the rich 
 meadow lands; herds of colts cantered up to the 
 road sometimes, and then dashed free as birds over 
 the great stretches of fields. The log cabins gave 
 way to fine stone mansions, with cool shadowy 
 porches running along them ; and at each one of 
 those pretentious dwellings Jubal was sure to stop 
 on one pretext or another and always managed to 
 learn, before leaving, if the inhabitants had any 
 kinsfolks in the war and if they came through all 
 right. 
 
 But when they reached the last range, and had 
 left the fine plantations behind, and were once more 
 in the region of wild lands and cabins then at last,
 
 1 88 COMRADES 
 
 Jubal grew discouraged. He had nursed the un 
 realized hope that somewhere on that fine big road 
 to the laurel hills somebody in the great plantations 
 would recognize Mr. Poindexter. 
 
 He had, however, very carefully refrained from 
 mentioning to Mr. Poindexter that their walk had 
 any special significance, beyond the search for herbs. 
 They were each imbued with the idea that "some 
 day " they would by chance walk up to some grand 
 portal and be received with affection, and have a 
 big dinner because the "master " had come back 
 alive. This fantasy was Jubal s invention at the 
 beginning, but Mr. Poindexter was calmly waiting 
 the event, too. 
 
 And when they halted there to rest at the foot of 
 the mountain, where a cold stream came tumbling 
 out of the shadows, Jubal was sorely discouraged, 
 and was wondering if another road could not be 
 found on their return. And perhaps, on the other 
 road 
 
 But he built a fire, with the aid of a tinder-box 
 and dry bark, and roasted a fine rabbit that Mr. 
 Poindexter had killed with a stone, on which, 
 together with some good wheat bread earned by 
 Jubal for some trifling medicinal service, they made 
 a very good meal. Afterwards, as they were resting 
 in digestive laziness, a native of the country jogged 
 down a dim pathway, and spoke as he passed. 
 
 "Took you for gypsies first sight I got of your 
 fire," he remarked drawlingly. "I notice by your 
 clothes you ve been in the sarvice ; whar might you 
 hail from?"
 
 COMRADES 189 
 
 From down Maryland way, sir, and we re maken 
 search for some special herbs for medicines," ans 
 wered Jubal, while Mr. Poindexter nodded his head 
 gravely. 
 
 Well, there s most all kinds as grows in the 
 mountains to be found on one side o this hill or the 
 other. But say, men, that creek water is pretty 
 thin drinking; won t you just doctor it a little? " 
 
 And he swung a gallon jug from out a bag he was 
 carrying; in the other end was some buckwheat, of 
 which a few grains were slipping through a small 
 hole. 
 
 "Whiskey? no, I don t drink whiskey," said 
 Mr. Poindexter with a kindly smile. But Jubal ! " 
 
 "Yes, sir; thank you, sir. Jubal certainly is get- 
 ing old enough to feel the need of it sometimes, and 
 I drink to youah very good health, sir. Now I tell 
 you that surely does touch the right spot after a long 
 tramp, though the water tasted good, too, when 
 there was no better in sight. It s mighty cold 
 water." 
 
 "And might well be," added the mountaineer, 
 after a long swig at the jug. Most o the water is 
 cold this side the mountain ; some of it comes from 
 springs in the ledges where ice is found till June. 
 Yes, sirree; ice an snow packed into the crevices 
 till it settles into solid blocks, and there it stays 
 through the spring." 
 
 "Does does folks live near-a-bouts to it?" 
 asked Jubal. But the man shook his head. 
 
 "No one nearer than a mile," he answered.
 
 1 90 COMRADES 
 
 "There is a family about that near to it an old 
 woman and her gal; their name s Dorbett." 
 
 Might I ask you, sir, if there d be water birch 
 trees close to where that ice and snow is water birch 
 and laurels? " asked Jubal--for surely, surely this 
 was the land of the dream. 
 
 "Certain, more water birch and big laurel than 
 anything else right along the ledges," said the 
 stranger. 
 
 Could we reach it to-day from here is it hard 
 to find? " and the mountaineer looked at him curi 
 ously, his eagerness was so plain. 
 
 "Well, if you want medicine herbs from along 
 Snake-den ledge, you d better get a guide, as you re 
 a stranger," he remarked. "Not that it s so far, 
 but that there s no way I could direct you from here. 
 There is an old trail as used to lead past it; a trail 
 they used to haul out mill-stones on, long ago, but 
 no stranger could follow it. But I tell you ; you just 
 keep on this path for about two miles back, and it 11 
 bring you where the widow woman lives that I spoke 
 of, an they ll likely show you the place. You can 
 find the house, all right. Just keep on the plainest 
 road all the way. There s a path through part of 
 the ledge that would be a short cut, but it s risky to 
 start you on that." 
 
 Mr. Poindexter had walked away along the stream 
 and was whistling to an oriole fluttering just above 
 him. The chatter of the birds had given him a quiet 
 delight ever since the morning of that dream, and 
 he never heard a new song that he did not at once 
 try to imitate it.
 
 COMRADES 191 
 
 He nodded when the stranger called good -day to 
 him, and went obediently along with Jubal, who 
 hastily gathered up their few traps and started up 
 the shadowy path, up and up gradually, with ever 
 the music of the mountain stream falling over the 
 stones and the white sand a little below them. 
 
 There were so many birds. Everywhere they were 
 calling, and Mr. Poindexter walked as briskly as a 
 boy, and once, to the surprise of Jubal, he laughed 
 aloud as one flame-colored songster was decoyed 
 almost to his hand. 
 
 I never did see so many pretty wild birds," said 
 Jubal. But the other smiled and said, "I did, 
 Jubal in my dream." 
 
 They had passed several log trails leading to right 
 or left, and cattle paths that wound and were lost 
 again in the dense brush ; but when they had gone 
 about a mile Mr. Poindexter, who was a few steps 
 ahead, turned to the right, where an ancient tree 
 was marked by a blaze," and where the dim signs 
 of an old trail led. 
 
 "Hi! Where you marching? That ain t the 
 road the man told us." 
 
 The other stopped and looked around in a puzzled 
 way. 
 
 I don t know what the man said, but I think this 
 is the way to go," he responded, hesitatingly. It 
 was the first time he had ever offered an opinion 
 opposite to that of Jubal, and Jubal just sat down on 
 a log and looked at him in astonishment. 
 
 Now tell me, Mr. Malcolm, honey, how is it you
 
 102 COMRADES 
 
 think that skimpy little path is the way instead o 
 this here plain one? " 
 
 But Mr. Poindexter put his hands to his head, and 
 wrinkled his brows as though in pain. 
 
 "I can t tell why," he said despairingly, "only 
 I do think this is the way to go." 
 
 And faithful Jubal made no further protest. Some 
 thing in the air of the Laurel hills had changed Mr. 
 Malcolm. He was at last something of the real 
 leader, instead of a make-believe. 
 
 The place through which the trail led was a dense 
 thicket of laurel; then the larger trees commenced, 
 chestnut and white oak and rock-oak; and they 
 walked over stones worn into ruts by wheels long 
 ago. It was only by looking very closely that Jubal 
 could detect those signs of ancient usage, for ferns 
 grew to their waists along where moisture oozed from 
 crevices in the natural stone paving. But Mr. Poin 
 dexter never seemed to look for signs of the trail. 
 He was looking upwards where the birds flew here 
 and there, and his feet were finding the way for 
 themselves. 
 
 Then a wall grew gradually higher on one side of 
 the trail a wall of huge stone, above which the 
 laurel grew and bent over towards them with long 
 antlers, and the wall grew more and more massive, 
 higher than tall houses it towered sheer planes 
 feathered green with rock-fern, and here and there 
 great breaks where cavities had been quarried in 
 some tremendous upheaval of nature ; and all along 
 the granite wall stood water birches ranged like
 
 COMRADES 193 
 
 sentinels around a fort, their slitn gray bodies tower 
 ing high up above the dark green shadows of the 
 laurel. 
 
 Mr. Poindexter fairly ran from one crevice to 
 another, leaping upwards sometimes, where a foot 
 rest was to be found , and peering down into the 
 darkness of the great rifts. Once he slid down again 
 to Jubal and carried a branch of the little laurel 
 blossoms. 
 
 "You see it is just like the dream, Jubal; the 
 rocks and the water birch and the laurel, and the ice 
 is here somewhere I reckon. Put your hand to that 
 slit in the rock; don t the air come through it cold 
 as ice ? You see it was a true dream." 
 
 A true dream ! Jubal was dazed by its truth. He 
 felt frightened when he looked at the eager face of 
 the man who leaped like a squirrel up and down over 
 those wild, dangerous crevices. Mr. Poindexter, 
 laughing aloud, and calling to the birds, was a differ 
 ent being from the one he had served so long, and 
 Jubal feared the excitement was simply madness; 
 for the old man had always a secret dread that the 
 old wound in the skull might bring about that result. 
 
 Then far in a cave-like aperture he heard a shout, 
 and directly he saw the man running towards him 
 with both hands held out. 
 
 "It s true," he called, "all true. Here is the 
 ice and snow how cold it is! Wagon loads are in 
 there. It falls down from above, away back in there. 
 Oh, it is nice to dream!" Then he paused and 
 raised his wet, icy hand to his head in the way Jubal 
 
 13
 
 194 COMRADES 
 
 was so used to seeing him do. A gesture of pain, 
 and the pain always followed any attempt at earnest 
 thinking. 
 
 I wish, Jubal," he said at last, that you would 
 tell me if this is a dream now, or is this real and 
 true?" 
 
 Surely it s real an true," decided Jubal. Don t 
 you mind, Mr. Malcolm, honey, that we jest 
 come over here to make search for toothache root? " 
 
 "Toothache root? Oh, yes." And he gave a 
 sigh of content, as though some perplexed thought 
 was driven away by the mention of their prosaic 
 errand. "It s here somewheres, ain t it? But 
 ain t it too cold jest here by the rocks for it? Now, 
 over that little hollow, the sun shines on that bank." 
 
 And again Jubal followed him, and found him, 
 sure enough, digging the rare magical little plant, 
 and holding up the white cane- jointed roots in 
 triumph. 
 
 Jubal took the herbs with trembling fingers. He 
 was old and tired, and all his hopes ending in this 
 wild, rock-bound ravine, left him feeling weak and 
 discouraged. 
 
 "Don t dig any more just now, Mr. Malcolm," 
 he said, touching the other s arm with his hand. 
 We 11 come another day, maybe, an get the rest, 
 for I certainly am nigh shakin with a chill in this 
 damp place. Don t you reckon we can find a path 
 to get out into the clear woods right away?" 
 
 "Why, yes," and Mr. Malcolm picked up Jubal s 
 bundle with his strong left hand and started ahead
 
 COMRADES 195 
 
 without further ceremony. But after going a few 
 rods he stopped in perplexity. "Jubal, we never 
 hunted here before did we? " And his troubled 
 eyes looked earnestly at the old man. 
 
 No, honey, we never did, to my knowen." 
 
 " Cause, it seems to me I ve walked down here 
 other times than this and it seems to me I can most 
 tell what is down where this path goes." 
 
 But there ain t a path," said Jubal. And then 
 the other man stooped and parted the thick mass of 
 ferns and showed that between the clumps was worn 
 a narrow place reaching along both ways, and in a 
 moist spot was left the impress of pig tracks. 
 
 "And it goes on down over the hill like that," 
 said the discoverer with his eyes half closed, and 
 down there is a big creek and a pile of gray and black 
 stuff they dug out of the coal from the old bank, an 
 then but I can t tell any further now. Come, let s 
 see if it s true." 
 
 It was true. The stream tumbled and brawled 
 along noisily under the laurels and white honey 
 suckle bushes, and above, along the steep hill, was 
 the debris from a coal mine, the mouth of which had 
 caved in and had evidently been abandoned for years 
 while slate and slack from it were strewn around to 
 the fording place. 
 
 Now what?" asked Jubal. Where do you think 
 the path goes from here? " 
 
 I think it goes down the stream to where another 
 little spring runs into it; and and up that spring 
 hollow is a clear place an a house. Jubal, what
 
 1 96 COMRADES 
 
 makes me feel like this? We never did hunt herbs 
 here before! I -I 
 
 But he walked ahead, giving Jubal no time to reply 
 and no other words were exchanged. They reached 
 the little stream where it joined the big one, and the 
 path of the pig tracks led up along the little stream. 
 He turned around and the blue eyes met the black 
 ones, and seemed to question it all, as they turned 
 around a knoll and were in front of a little log house, 
 nestled snugly under the shadow of the mountain. 
 
 A little stumpy clearing reached up above it; 
 some old untrimmed apple trees and sickly looking 
 peach trees were scattered about at random ; a sun- 
 bonneted figure was hoeing cabbage plants in front 
 of the door, and when a little dog barked the woman 
 raised suddenly and they could see she looked 
 startled as well as surprised. She was a slouchy 
 girl, with a pretty, listless face, and she stepped 
 back nearer the door as the strangers approached. 
 The white man dropped in the rear, and Jubal was 
 again the spokesman. 
 
 We hope you ll excuse us, Miss, " he said, making 
 a big bow with his hat in his hand. "My boss 
 an me are kind o got out o the right road an 
 strayed up here. We re both powerful tired, Miss, 
 an would like to ask a drink o milk if you could 
 spare it." 
 
 The young woman stared at them stolidly for a 
 moment; strangers were things of wonder at their 
 door. 
 
 "Where you from?" she demanded bluntly.
 
 COMRADES 197 
 
 Jubal told her, and she softened a little when Mr. 
 Poindexter closed his eyes wearily and leaned against 
 the crooked plum tree by the path. 
 
 "Well, you can come in," she agreed ungracious 
 ly. Your boss does look played out ; is he sick? " 
 
 Pie hain t never been right well sence war times, 
 count of a hurt he got then ; but he ain t right down 
 sick, are you, Mr. Malcolm? " 
 
 "No, Jubal, only the sun felt hot on my head 
 down there." 
 
 The young woman glanced at him. The light 
 colored, curly beard, covering all his face, gave him 
 the stout look of a farmer ; and then he was such a 
 tall, well-grown man, if only his face above the beard 
 did not look such a bluish white. 
 
 "It was on the head he was hurt," explained 
 Jubal, noticing her scrutiny. "Jest drink that milk, 
 Mr. Malcolm ; it s better for you than the spirits the 
 man offered you to-day." 
 
 For she had gone to the little milk house only a 
 few steps from the door, and carried in a jar of sweet 
 milk, and handed them a tin dipper with which to 
 help themselves. 
 
 " Mother wouldn t want me to let anybody go by 
 hungry or dry if they wear the blue clothes you uns 
 do," she observed. "Mother is up on the moun 
 tain after bean poles. She gets a pension from the 
 government for a brother o mine that was killed 
 an we know two men about here that got pensions 
 for hurts. Do you get a pension ? " 
 
 She looked at the fair-whiskered man and he only 
 shook his head and repeated, A pension? "
 
 COMRADES 
 
 You see, Miss, we hain t been liven where folks 
 knowed about pensions," said Jubal, quickly. "An 
 as his folks are gone, an he has been ailen, there jest 
 warn t no one to manage it but me ; an the govern 
 ment ain t noways likely to pay much notice to an 
 old colored man they wouldn t give a gun to ; an it 
 takes a heap o proven things in court to get a 
 pension through, don t it, Miss? " 
 
 " Deed it does," she assented. " Not thet it 
 was hard for mother, cause Zach wasn t a common 
 soldier. His general had made him an officer, so he 
 was easier to keep track of. An land sakes! How 
 all the folks did laugh when word come that Zach 
 was made some sort of officer. I wasn t growed up 
 then, but I do mind how the other men an boys 
 made jokes over it. but not where mammy could 
 hear them," she added. "For Zach wasn t an 
 earthly bit o good on the place. He nearly lived in 
 the woods, an was always letten on to hunt cata 
 mounts over yonder in the ledges, or some other 
 thing there was no use in, an whistle to the birds till 
 he could mock any one o them jest as handy. Why, 
 I mind how they set him out on a fence to watch 
 the crows out o the corn, an stead o driven them 
 away he was mocken them just like they call till the 
 ground was nigh black with them, an when Dad 
 that was afore Dad died when he went down there 
 was the crows pullen out the little stalks to get the 
 corn grain on the roots, an there was Zach, pleased 
 as could be, a sitten on the fence an chatteren to 
 them. An thet was jest about as much useful work
 
 COMRADES 199 
 
 as he ever did do; an most folks jest counted it a 
 blessen for Mam thet he was the one to be took 
 stead o the other boys." 
 
 "Then she had other sons, too?" asked Jubal, 
 as he helped himself to more milk. "Is pose these 
 mountains sent out a right smart o soldiers." 
 
 "Yes, indeed; Jim an Joe they re our two 
 other boys they was older than Zach, an they 
 listed in the first lot o men thet went from the 
 mountain. But they comeback all safe. Joe, he s 
 married an works at the blacksmith trade down in 
 the settlements; he s awful good company an can 
 play the fiddle. Now, Zach never was good com 
 pany only for the birds. Joe would talk a heap to 
 you about war times if he was here; but he ain t so 
 steady as he might be, an drinks a heap sometimes. 
 An Jim, he lives somewheres down the river mostly 
 on the boats I guess, an he don t ever get up this 
 way any more ; so thet leaves jest Mam an me here 
 on the farm an Zach s pension to keep us on. An 
 thet s why most folks count it a blessen for Mam thet 
 he was the one to be made an officer, an then took ; 
 for more pension is paid out for an officer than there 
 is for a private soldier, you know." 
 
 As they sat about the milk jar and chatted, the 
 girl seemed really glad to have someone to talk to, 
 for visitors were scarce back there in the shut-in 
 valley. She glanced often at Mr. Poindexter when 
 talking as though wondering that he was not more 
 friendly; Jubal drew what attention he could from 
 him for he indeed looked weary or ill, as he sat with 
 his head leaned on his hand.
 
 200 COMRADES 
 
 Then another little dog scampered in at the open 
 door, and dropped, panting, beside the cupboard. 
 
 "Marn s comen," announced the girl. "She s 
 sure to talk to you about Zach when she sees your 
 soldier clothes. That s if she sees them, for her eye 
 sight is getten bad now. She set a heap o store by 
 him, though he always was kind o triflen, an most 
 the only thing he ever did for her was to get killed an 
 get her the pension. But we don t ever dare say 
 thet afore her, cause he was her youngest boy, you 
 know." 
 
 They heard the swish-swish of poles being dragged 
 down behind the house, then around to the door, 
 where they were dropped heavily. And a gray-haired 
 little woman, with a sunbonnet on, straightened 
 herself with an effort, and stood in the doorway. 
 
 "Who is it, Sally?" she asked, peering in and 
 pushing off her bonnet to wipe her forehead with her 
 apron. "Hev ye company?" 
 
 Jest some strange men. They stopped in to rest 
 an get a swallow o milk," explained her daughter. 
 "Well, did you get the poles easy? " 
 
 "Poles wasn t any sort o trouble, but I was 
 flustered some by a young black snake. Lion killed it, 
 but I was a leetle scared, for fear I d step on another 
 one, so I packed what I had down home. Where is 
 Lion? Give him a pan o that milk, Sally; he was 
 a good dog." 
 
 Salley dipped some of the milk into a pan and 
 gave it to the fat, panting little dog with the tre 
 mendous name, and as the old woman grew used to
 
 COMRADES 201 
 
 the dark room she turned her attention again to the 
 newcomers. 
 
 "Strangers are you?" she asked. "What 
 way be you bound for? " 
 
 We we re from south o this, from down the 
 pike, Maryland way. We allow to go back there 
 again," said Jubal, and looked at his companion for 
 some spoken word. But he, from the dark corner 
 where he sat, was staring in a troubled way at the 
 old woman and did not notice Jubal. The old 
 woman peered forward. 
 
 "You re a black man, ain t you?" she asked. 
 "Well well it s the first time a black man sat in 
 our house. Not but you re welcome enough; my 
 boys fought for them, an one o them died for them, 
 an it s as leetle as I can do to give them a cheer an 
 a drink o rnilk ; an - - an ain t them soldier 
 clothes? " 
 
 Yes, mist ess, they certainly is," agreed Jubal, 
 "an* I m a sure-enough black man; but my rny 
 boss here, he s a white man; an we both wear blue 
 clothes case we both seen service." 
 
 "You ll excuse an ole half -blind woman for 
 niaken a mistake," she said, peering into the corner 
 where Mr. Poindexter sat. "You re welcome, sir, 
 stranger though you be, if only for the blue coat you 
 wear. My boys was strangers once down your w T ay. 
 That s a long time ago ; an my Zach, he died down 
 there amongst strangers. Maybe now you might 
 a happened to know him, sir? He was color sergeant 
 of the Sixtieth Ohio Regiment; an he was killed
 
 202 COMRADES 
 
 an lost in the Potomac river in the springtime of 
 1862. His name was Zachary Taylor Dorbett." 
 
 "Zachary Taylor! -oh- " 
 
 Mr. Poindexter arose to his feet in the corner, and 
 reached out his hand involuntarily. Jubal grasped 
 it, and he sat down again. Salty was outside 
 stacking the bean poles against the house, and the 
 old woman did not see the movement of the stranger, 
 or how quickly all his face changed. The perplexity 
 in it was gone ; it was all alight with understanding, 
 as if some door long closed to him had suddenly 
 swung open at the touch of a simple key. 
 
 "What did you say, sir?" queried the old moun 
 tain woman. "No? Well, I m sorry. I d like 
 powerful well to meet some o the rnen my boy led 
 into that great battle they wrote me of. One o his 
 comrades, Mr. Clay Todd, he wrote me two letters 
 an told me how proud his company was of my boy. 
 An even his captain wrote me a letter himself when 
 my boy was killed, an said he never hoped to have 
 a braver lad under his command. Yes, sir; they 
 wrote me powerful pretty letters ; but oh me ! The 
 fine words couldn t give my boy back to me! " 
 
 And she rocked to and fro on the little home-made 
 chair, and the tears gathering thick in her eyes were 
 wiped away with the gingham apron. 
 
 "He was only a boy, you know -my Zach," she 
 continued, "maybe that s why I can t get recon 
 ciled. A boy nineteen seems mighty young to 
 be shot down like that. But they wrote me 
 he didn t suffer none. Jest dropped back dead
 
 COMRADES 203 
 
 into the water when the bullet struck his forehead. 
 He never was found, for the water washed him 
 away; but he would a been easy to identify, for a 
 piece had been shot off his right ear, an he had a 
 bullet wound in his right arm." 
 
 She dwelt on these points with the sad persistence 
 of one to whom they were daily food for thought, 
 and did not notice that the stranger was looking 
 remorsefully at his one shriveled arm that would 
 never do a strong man s work again, and that his 
 one hand crept up to pull forward the curled hair 
 over an ear from which a circular bit was out. 
 
 "Still, I suppose I hain t as much call to grieve 
 as some others," she continued with forced cheer 
 fulness. "I had two boys left to me, an the one 
 that s gone had a chance to prove himself a man 
 afore he was called, an thet s a sort o comfort, too. 
 Then the government has done fair by me. They 
 will provide for me the rest o my days, an send the 
 money regular every three months. So Sally an 
 rne, haven our own little bit o land, too, manage to 
 live more comfortable than we have for years back ; 
 an that counts for a heap, when ye get along in 
 years, jest to know that the coffee pot don t need to 
 be empty, an that ye can eat wheat bread all winter 
 if so be ye want to." 
 
 " Yes, indeedy, that s true," agreed Jubal. "An* 
 the government is mighty good about helpen when 
 it can, I reckon." 
 
 "Yes yes, it s good; but so were the men we 
 sent to fight for it. Some hard-tongued folks say
 
 204 COMRADES 
 
 the pension money makes me a better livin than my 
 boy Zach would have made for me. I don t know ; 
 he was only a boy an not settled yet ; but I do know 
 if he could only walk up that path again, strong an* 
 hearty like he used to be, I d cheerful let the govern 
 ment folks keep their money that I would." 
 
 The man in the corner half raised from his chair, 
 but sank back again with a glance at his stricken 
 arm. " Strong and hearty like he used to be? Never 
 never!" 
 
 "Sally, you come in an get a bite airly, so these 
 soldier boys can have a little supper afore they start 
 out to the road again," called the old woman. 
 
 But Jubal, with a questioning look into Mr. Mal 
 colm s face, protested. 
 
 "No, Mist ess, youah mighty kind to strangers, 
 but we ve rested now, thank ye, an must be travel- 
 len on. Mr. Malcolm, here, my boss, he s not been 
 very well, an I surely had to get him rested a 
 spell. I reckon we won t be stayen longer, but thet 
 milk was worth comen up here for." 
 
 "You re jest as welcome to a cup of coffee," she 
 began. But the white man arose. 
 
 "No, ma am thanky, ma am," he said hastily, 
 in a voice new to Jubal, it was so hoarse and tremu 
 lous. "We can t stay, so don t bother. I m sorry 
 I didn t meet your boy down south. But that ain t 
 curious. There was too many to know them all." 
 
 " Sally Sally! " called the mother again. "Jest 
 come in an get the captain s letter about 
 my boy. I d like to have these men hear it;
 
 COMRADES 205 
 
 it ll only take a minute," she added persuasively, 
 "an you might sometime come across folks as 
 knowed him down there along the Potomac River. 
 Sally can read it ; she reads real good." 
 
 The two waited while Sally entered, and with 
 scant veneration whipped a bundle of letters out of a 
 cigar box over the clock and untied the string from 
 about them. 
 
 " I could say them all off by heart jest as well as to 
 open the papers," she said, with a shrug of her 
 shoulders. "Mam does want them read so plagued 
 often, an every Sunday regular." 
 
 "Never mind, Sally; it does me good," said the 
 old woman, rocking herself placidly, and eyeing with 
 pride the several documents so important in her eyes. 
 
 " That s the one the captain sent," she said, point 
 ing to a worn yellow envelope ; and then the girl read 
 aloud in a sing-song way an earnest letter of condol 
 ence to the mountain mother. It spoke of her boy 
 as a young hero, "utterly fearless;" "brave enough 
 to set an example of daring to the entire regiment;" 
 "his heroism will ever be honored by every soldier 
 who followed the colors he carried then." These 
 and like expressions were penned there by an officer 
 brave enough himself to honor the bravery of a sub 
 ordinate. 
 
 And the old woman nodded her head to emphasize 
 the sentence. 
 
 " That was my boy Zach," she said with a sad sort 
 of pride. " He was a brave soldier Oh, my Zach! " 
 
 She put her apron up to her face, and Mr. Poin-
 
 206 COMRADES 
 
 dexter arose and walked out of the door pulling his 
 hat low over his eyes. She and Sally looked after 
 him curiously. 
 
 "He he s lost some fren s too," explained Jubal 
 hastily. "Don you ens think he ain t interested 
 in youah trouble, cause he certainly is; but well, 
 he s lost some folks, too." 
 
 The old woman nodded: "I know then." She 
 said softly, " He s a nice, big-looken man, ain t he?" 
 Then she walked ahead of Jubal out to a little bed in 
 the garden. Mr. Poindexter leaned against a plum 
 tree and looked carefully over the poor little farm. 
 
 "Here s a flower bed I always call Zach s," said 
 the old woman. "When we heard he was shot 
 there was a girl over the hill cried nigh about as much 
 as me. Her name was Caroline Dawes we called 
 her Carrie. She came over an we fixed up this bed, 
 jest as if he had been buried at home, ye know. She 
 brought that pink rose an planted it, an I got that 
 white, speckled stone from the ledge one day an 
 put it there as a sort o monyment. An after we 
 got it all fixed up, Carrie often came here, an we d 
 set out alongside of it an talk about Zach. She 
 died two years ago, an is buried down in the settle 
 ment graveyard; but I jest hunted round till I 
 found a stone to match the other, an I planted 
 another bush in the bed, a white one. So that it 
 kind o looks to me as if they both lay there, side by 
 side, asleep. That s all I 11 ever plant here, an that 
 white rose an the pink has grown till their nigh 
 meeten now."
 
 COMRADES 207 
 
 "Yes," said the stranger, looking down on the two 
 stones shining in the sunlight, and the two roses toss 
 ing their odorous bloom together. " I m fond of 
 flowers specially roses; might I pick one?" 
 
 " To be sure you may jest as many as you like," 
 said the old woman, trying to look up at him, and 
 failing because of the sun in her eyes. 
 
 He only took two a pink and a white one. 
 
 "Thank you, ma am, thank you kindly," he said, 
 lifting his hat and taking a long look at her. " Come, 
 Jubal." 
 
 He did not ask the road; he walked out of the 
 forest as he had walked into it, without a guide ; and 
 he never halted until they reached the great road 
 leading back to Maryland. Then he stopped and 
 reached out his hand to Jubal. 
 
 "You are Jubal, anyway," he said "good old 
 Jubal! One of the things I m glad about to-day is 
 that I don t think I 11 forget things again. I 11 never 
 forget what you ve done for me." 
 
 " Shoo! " answered Jubal, glancing at his own blue 
 clothes. "If I couldn t fight, I could try to help 
 some that did; that is the onliest use I could be." 
 
 "My head aches, Jubal, an I can t make out to 
 think very clear; but I want you to tell me some 
 thing to tell me straight. Am I ever likely to be 
 strong again strong enough to work and keep any 
 one outside myself strong enough to earn as much 
 as that pension money?" 
 
 Jubal shook his head sadly, " You can t lift twenty 
 pounds with that right arm, an that hole in your
 
 2o8 COMRADES 
 
 head is like to fetch on a fever any summer day 
 you re forced into the hot sun. No, sir; you can 
 whittle out a liven for yourself down there in our 
 cabin, Mr. Mr. Malcolm. But you haint got 
 strength for sponsiblities." 
 
 The man buried his face in his hands and groaned 
 aloud at his weakness. Jubal watched him with 
 utter devotion in his old black eyes, and picked up 
 for him the pink rose that slipped from his fingers. 
 
 "Mr. Malcolm honey," he said, encouragingly, 
 "don t you grieve so, an don t you get weak in 
 youah heart. That was a brave soldier the old lady 
 tole us about back there. He was so brave they 
 said he was a pattern for men to follow ; so don t you 
 forget that pattern, Mr. Malcolm; that s the man 
 you must live up to all the rest o your born days, 
 honey." 
 
 The curled fair head nodded. He thrust the roses 
 into the inner pocket of his coat and arose, pulling 
 himself together with an effort. 
 
 "All right, Jubal," he said, "we re comrades then 
 boys in blue -the rest of our lives. Come, let 
 us go home." 
 
 Then the black hand clasped the white one, and 
 turning their backs on the fragrant hills of the laurels, 
 they walked southward together. 
 
 They never talked of that one day on the northern 
 mountain, or of that pensioner up there ; and neither 
 did their imaginations claim the fine plantations 
 and carriages they passed. Illusions were over for 
 Mr. Poindexter.
 
 COMRADES 209 
 
 All that summer he whittled and shaped baskets 
 and chairs and whistled early and late to the birds; 
 but when the maples turned to flame color in the 
 frosts he spoke often of the pain growing and grow 
 ing in his head, and in his sleep he muttered of the 
 ledge, and catamounts, of Carrie, and mammy, and 
 the roses. 
 
 Then one day he could not rise and could not see 
 because of the pain, and Jubal tramped to Piedmont 
 for a doctor a man conceded to be the best in that 
 part of the state. But he shook his head when he 
 saw the old wound and noted the mad fever. 
 
 "Has he any friends to send word to?" he asked. 
 And Jubal answered, "No, sir no one knows him 
 now but jest me." 
 
 "Well, you re a faithful fellow," observed the 
 doctor. " I would not mind having you with me as 
 a nurse. If you ever want a place let me know. 
 You ve done the best that could be done with a 
 wound like that. This sort of an end was sure to 
 come sooner or later. The wonder is it did not come 
 before." 
 
 " I d got a doctor long ago, but I was afraid they d 
 go to cutten, an kill him with their knives. I ve 
 seen such things in the war times, sir." 
 
 " And I too," muttered the doctor. " He was just 
 as well left alone; it was only a matter of time. 
 You re a good friend, Jubal." 
 
 "We was comrades," said old Jubal, proudly 
 " Comrade is what he called me, sir, when he was 
 in his right mind, an I ain t asken higher honor, sir." 
 
 "Who is the man?" 
 1-1
 
 210 COMRADES 
 
 "A brave soldier, sir," said Jubal, with impressive 
 reticence ; and it was not until the doctor s roof had 
 sheltered the faithful old fellow for many years that 
 he told more fully the story that is told here. 
 
 And his words there by the bedside must have 
 reached the ears of the man who was passing so 
 swiftly out of their world, for he flung out his hand 
 and laughed softly. " Give me the flag! " he gasped. 
 "The general said A brave soldier. So come, 
 boys Jubal the colors are wanted I am to take 
 them up front."
 
 PERSEPHONE 
 
 In the first place, I did not want to go. It was 
 all Jack s fault. We visited America that he might 
 become acquainted with some of his father s rela 
 tives who live in Philadelphia. While there my 
 little cough, which troubles me sometimes, seemed 
 worse than usual, and Jack insisted that I should 
 spend the summer in the Balsam Hills of Carolina, 
 where the air, sifting through the firs, is said to 
 carry with it healing for all lung troubles. 
 
 I objected until he put in a plea that I might go 
 for his sake if not for my own, as he had been told 
 that the scenery was well worth a visit, and was 
 quite out of the beaten path of tourists. So, seeing 
 that he was very anxious to make some sketches 
 of the country before our return to England, I con 
 sented, with many misgivings, for my experience 
 has taught me that when you attempt to make new 
 paths, rather than follow the beaten ones of the 
 tourist, you may make up your mind to put up 
 with many inconveniences. But I have alwavs 
 humored Jack ; so I went. I am his aunt. 
 
 On the evening of our arrival at that very peculiar 
 hotel or rather the one house in the straggling 
 mountain village where they condescended to " keep 
 folks sometimes," I heard the landlord tell his wife:
 
 212 PERSEPHONE 
 
 "There is two of em, a funny-looking little old 
 maid, and a young man with some painted pictures. 
 Reckon maybe he is goin to try an sell em through 
 here. It s bringin his pigs to a poor market. An 
 they want four rooms so hustle around!" 
 
 The assertion of Mr. Snodgrass that I am an old 
 maid is correct, and I always expect to be one. I 
 am fifty-four years old, and I have no idea of chang 
 ing the name I have borne so long. 
 
 Once, I had. It was thirty years ago. I had 
 promised; but I broke my word and took off my 
 engagement ring when I saw how my sister Betty, 
 who was just seventeen then, would listen to Jack s 
 voice, as if it were the only thing in this world worth 
 hearing, when he came to spend the evenings with 
 me. And when she came home from school, so tall 
 and so very pretty, and Jack s eyes would look at 
 her admiringly, as I knew they never could look at 
 me I was always plain well, when I saw all this, 
 which they thought no one noticed, I decided I did 
 not want to get married, and I told Jack so. He 
 did not say much. He only went away, and it was 
 three years before he came back. He was a sailor, 
 as his father had been before him. Betty was 
 twenty when he returned, and had many beaux; 
 but I had never known her to listen to any man s 
 words as she had to Jack s whom she often spoke 
 of. So I sent for him to come and see me, and he 
 came. 
 
 "Have you changed your mind?" he asked.
 
 PERSEPHONE 213 
 
 "Not this time," I said; "I settled in my own 
 mind, three years ago, what was best for you and 
 me. I will never change it." 
 
 "You are sure it is best?" he asked. 
 
 " I am sure," I answered. " I will marry no one. 
 But you and I were boy and girl together, Jack. 
 We must be friends still. And, some day, when 
 you find a wife who cares for you as a woman should 
 care for her husband, then you will say I was sensible. 
 
 "Then you never cared?" 
 
 "Not that way," I said, and laughed. 
 
 Betty came in while we talked, her face flushing 
 with pleasure at sight of him. When he bade me 
 good-night at the door, he said: "She is as pretty 
 as ever. Even as a child I thought her one of the 
 prettiest creatures I ever saw." 
 
 He said it carelessly, to hide his real feeling before 
 me as if I did not know! 
 
 I often invited him to come, and always left them 
 together, until he saw plainly I approved their love 
 affair And when Betty was twenty-two he came 
 to tell me he was going to ask her if she would be 
 his wife. 
 
 I suppose I was glad. I know I smiled and en 
 couraged him, for duller eyes than mine could see 
 that he was everything to Betty. 
 
 Soon after that they were married, and he took 
 her with him for a year s cruise as a wedding trip, 
 for he had his own vessel then. He named it 
 Jeanne it was his mother s name; it is mine, too.
 
 214 PERSEPHONE 
 
 I was glad they went away until I got used to the 
 idea of Betty being his wife. 
 
 She never came back, for she died on ship-board, 
 and he brought back a little babe, a boy, and car 
 ried it straight to me. 
 
 "I knew you could tell me what I had best do 
 with it," he said. 
 
 "I can," I answered. "You can give it to me." 
 
 "To you? I could not burden you with the care 
 of it." 
 
 "Is there anything in this world I would count a 
 burden, if done for you?" I said, not thinking. 
 You see the news of Betty s death and the child and 
 all, brought so much into my heart that for a mo 
 ment I forgot, and must have shown more in my 
 voice than he had suspected in all the years since I 
 told him I could not marry him, for he grew quite 
 white, and looked at me steadily. 
 
 "I may never come back," he said, at length. 
 " If I don t, will you see to the child? He will have 
 money, but no love unless you give it to him. I 
 shall always think of him as he is now, with your 
 arms around him. It is a picture I shall never 
 forget. And now, good-by!" 
 
 Then he left me there with the boy, and I never 
 saw him again. He died of yellow fever, two years 
 later, so that the child became all my own. I called 
 him Jack, after his father, and I have tried always 
 to be mother and father, both, to him. 
 
 So that is the sort of relationship between my
 
 PERSEPHONE 215 
 
 boy and me, and explains the importance in my 
 eyes of all things pertaining to him. He is a good 
 boy, and was twenty-five that summer in America. 
 
 Since a child he has been ambitious to be a painter, 
 and people who know much more than I do have 
 told me he is sure to make a name in art, if he lives. 
 So I let nothing stand in the way of his desires, and 
 used to travel with him to many of the places where 
 it was necessary for him to go to study. 
 
 For two years we were in Italy, and he says he is 
 going back next year; but lately my cough, though 
 trifling, has seemed to tire me too much to take long 
 journeys ; so I don t hope to go with him again. And 
 he will miss me sorely, I am afraid, for he never 
 seems to think of having a wife for a companion. 
 To ladies he is carelessly gallant, and has always 
 been a favorite with them. But I have never seen 
 in his acquaintance with any the least indications 
 of serious intentions. When I have broached the 
 subject, he has laughed and said: 
 
 " I keep all my love for you, Auntie Jeanne. You 
 and I will be a jolly old maid and old bachelor to 
 gether." 
 
 But I began to tell about our stay in America. 
 I may be laughed at for my pains I have no doubt 
 I shall be thought an imaginative old woman but 
 I maintain that what I am going to narrate was a 
 very peculiar coincidence. 
 
 Our rooms at Mr. Snodgrass were far from lux 
 urious, the house-furnishing being rather primitive,
 
 216 PERSEPHONE 
 
 but Jack was in ecstasies. He likes "roughing it," 
 as he calls it, and before we had been there two 
 weeks he had a great many sketches and studies 
 for finishing later. The only drawback to his 
 enjoyment was his fear that I might be lonely when 
 he was away all day, as he often was. I thought 
 I could pick up a maid or companion there, but 
 found it was not so easy. Our landlady had two 
 daughters who offered their services which I de 
 clined. They were both very yellow, with straight 
 sandy hair and vacant faces. I am old and ugly 
 myself, but I like to have youth and grace about 
 me. 
 
 " Don t you see any pretty girls in your rambles?" 
 I asked Jack one morning, when the sight of the 
 funereal peaks of the Balsam Mountains were be 
 ginning to seem oppressive by their changeless 
 darkness. The valleys below them were beautiful, 
 but I could see nothing of those from my window; 
 our stopping place was too far up the mountain. 
 
 "None that you would want around you," said 
 Jack. "You are hard to please, Auntie Jeanne, 
 but I will keep my eyes open for you. I will ask 
 some of the natives." 
 
 In the evening he came home jubilant 
 
 "I have got track of one at last," he said. "I 
 have made lots of blunders in this queer neighbor 
 hood. One man down the mountain said he would 
 ask his daughters if they knew of anyone. I sug 
 gested that one of his daughters might be willing
 
 PERSEPHONE 217 
 
 to come herself, when he froze me by the informa 
 tion that I had made a mistake, sah. He was a 
 Southern gentleman whose family had never yet 
 been under master or mistress, and could not begin 
 now, sah. Well, auntie, I saw the wife and daughter 
 of the Southern gentleman a little later. They 
 were both barefooted, but they invited me in as 
 ceremoniously as if they wore regal robes for the 
 reception of visitors. I am sorry you can t climb 
 over the hills with me and see more of the people. 
 There are such queer types among them. The most 
 extreme poverty does not prevent them welcoming 
 a newcomer as if they were sovereigns giving a 
 traveler the freedom of their territory." 
 
 "But what of the girl?" I asked. 
 
 "Oh, yes. Well, she has been keeping a little 
 school near here, and has just closed it. An old 
 darkey told me of her says she is mighty pert- 
 looking, and has an education. She has to make 
 her own living, and he thinks she would come. She 
 lives near the log school-house on the county road. 
 You can drive there in the morning. Her name is 
 Percy Atkins." 
 
 In the morning Jack had left for the hills before 
 I was up, so I went alone. When I told Mrs. Snod- 
 grass I wanted her son to drive me to Miss Percy 
 Atkins after breakfast, she tossed her head in a 
 peculiar manner. No doubt she divined my errand, 
 and resented it as a slight on her own daughters. 
 
 "Oh, very well, marm, very well," she said, and
 
 218 PERSEPHONE 
 
 as she closed the door between the dining-room and 
 kitchen I heard her say: "Miss Percy Atkins! 
 Miss Percy Atkins, indeed!" 
 
 I found the house a very small, very old, and 
 very pretty stone cottage almost hidden from the 
 road by the thick growth of pine trees in front of it. 
 A neat-looking black woman came out and asked 
 me to "Light, and walk in." 
 
 I did so and found the little sitting-room very 
 tasteful in its furnishing, or rather in the arrange 
 ment of the furniture, much of which was entirely 
 too elegant and imposing for such close quarters, 
 although it all seemed very old. The carpet was 
 made from rags, but the table and a huge sideboard 
 were of carved mahogany. Some rudely framed 
 water-colors were very good. A guitar lay on the 
 table. Bright bits of color, in the way of flowers 
 in old-fashioned cut-glass goblets, were in every 
 available nook, and in the corner-bracket deco 
 rated with pine cones were several books, all well 
 worn, which from the binding and brown tinge of 
 the leaves looked as if they had served more than 
 one generation of readers. 
 
 While the woman went to call Miss Atkins, I sat 
 down in an old-fashioned straight-backed chair, 
 and looked around me with a sense of pleasure in 
 the thought that I might get as companion the girl 
 who evidently had arranged the flowers, and whose 
 taste had done so much to redeem all that heavy 
 furniture from stiffness.
 
 PERSEPHONE 219 
 
 The woman had scarcely left the room when I 
 heard voices outside the window a man s and a 
 woman s. 
 
 "I tell you, I don t allow to wait much longer; 
 tain t no use!" said the man. 
 
 "Two months more, that is not long," and the 
 pleading voice was soft and very sweet. In that 
 moment I fell in love with the owner. 
 
 "It is that much too long," growled the man; 
 "you promised your mother it should be before 
 this." 
 
 "If I hadn t promised her 
 
 " You would try to draw back now," broke in the 
 man fiercely, "but you can t. You swore to your 
 promise, and it s a promise to the dead. You 
 seemed willin enough then." Then more gently: 
 " And you will be again, honey. It s just the learnen 
 and the study that s weaned you away like; that 
 will all come right when you get up there on the 
 mountain with nothen else to think of. And I will 
 be so good to you!" 
 
 "You are too good and patient with me, Hen 
 a great deal too much so." 
 
 "Pshaw! No I ain t. I get riled sometimes 
 when you seem as if you want to draw back; but 
 it s all over in a minute. I am goin now, good-by, 
 honey; and don t forget what you promised your 
 mother. I ll be back in two months. Good-by."
 
 220 PERSEPHONE 
 
 Then I heard them both walk away, and directly 
 afterward the black woman spoke to someone in 
 the little hall. 
 
 "Miss Perse, where on yeth you been? I was 
 looken all ovah the house fer yeh. Here s a lady 
 to see you some quality, too. Here s her keerd. 
 Fix up a bit fore you go in. Ye look awful pale 
 to-day. You s always pale enough de Good Man 
 knows!" 
 
 "Never mind, Cassie," said the soft voice. "It 
 doesn t matter how I look, I suppose. I must not 
 keep the lady waiting." 
 
 Then Cassie opened the door. 
 
 "Here is Miss Perse, now; couldn t find her no- 
 whars afore," explained that personage, with a free 
 dom you never find in an English servant. Her 
 mistress did not check her, but seemed to take it as 
 a matter of course. 
 
 One of the peculiarities I noticed in that country 
 was the familiarity of the colored servants, which 
 scarcely seems the impertinence it would be with us. 
 
 The girl she ushered in was more than pretty- 
 she was beautiful; slightly above medium height, 
 her figure was perfectly proportioned ; her hair was 
 black with an inclination to waviness; her features 
 were regular, and, though pale and a little sad in ex 
 pression, the face was a singularly attractive one. 
 Her skin was clear and creamy, with just that hint 
 of olive which makes the women of Spain so at 
 tractive to us Northern people. But these outlines
 
 PERSEPHONE 221 
 
 tell but little; there was inborn grace in the round 
 girlish form which was clothed in a cheap gray dress 
 made tight and plain. A scarlet lily of the swamps 
 was in her belt. Her hands a so-called test of 
 blood were slender and white. The brown eyes 
 were slumbrous and dreamy, and matched the voice, 
 w r hich said : 
 
 "I am sorry to have kept you waiting, madam. 
 I was outside when you arrived, as Cassie has told 
 you. You wish to see me?" 
 
 I w r as half-ashamed to propose to this queenly 
 looking creature that she should read to and amuse 
 me in return for a salary. I was afraid of making 
 the mistake Jack had made with the Southern 
 gentleman. But finally I managed to tell her. 
 
 Her face brightened for a moment, and then fell. 
 
 "I should like to go very much, madam" I 
 noticed she did not say "marm" as most of those 
 people do there "but I am afraid it will be im 
 possible." 
 
 "Laws, hon i Why not?" interrupted the offi 
 cious Cassie. " Yeh kin ef yeh oney think so. I ll 
 tend to the place yer all right. It s just what yeh 
 need, child. Yeh gitten so pale and peaked this 
 summer; it ll chirk yeh up a bit to go whar they s 
 folks fitten fo yeh to talk to. Jest yeh make her 
 go, ole miss. It ud brighten her up powerful." 
 
 "I should like to have you, Miss Atkins, if you 
 can come," I said, fearing that, after all, my ride 
 down the mountain was to be in vain. "I am a
 
 222 PERSEPHONE 
 
 stranger in your America, and an old woman who 
 will not require much labor from you only to read 
 to me sometimes, or drive me over these mountain 
 roads, that I may see some of the beauties of which 
 my nephew tells me. And I wanted someone for 
 a companion who was a native of the country, and 
 knew the hills." 
 
 "Which the Lawd knows she do," broke in Cassie, 
 who was sitting on a stool near the door, making a 
 grotesque picture in a blue cotton gown and a red 
 scarf or kerchief about her hair, which made a glow 
 ing frame for her shining ebony countenance. 
 "She s run through these pine woods evah sence 
 she was big enough to walk. Reckon I ought to 
 know; I ve nursed her an tended her sense she was 
 a little pickaninny that high," she held her hand 
 about six inches from the floor "an she jest lubs 
 dem mountains, rain or shine, a most as much as 
 she do her ole mammy." 
 
 The girl looked at her with a great kindness in 
 her eyes. 
 
 " Not quite so much, Cassie," she smiled. " Neither 
 the mountains nor anything on them could ever 
 be so much to me as my mammy." 
 
 The queer black creature s face fairly shone with 
 delight. She dropped from the stool to the girl s 
 side, taking the white hand in her black ones, patting 
 it, and rubbing her cheek against it as a cat does 
 with the hand it loves, while she murmered broken, 
 disjointed pet names, such as "my own pickaninny,"
 
 PERSEPHONE 223 
 
 "my chile," "my honey." I really have never seen 
 anything equal to the slavish adoration expressed 
 in every motion and glance of that black savage. 
 
 "Cassie! Cassie!" said the girl chidingly, but with 
 love in her voice, "remember we are not alone. If 
 you are a foreigner, madam," she said, turning to 
 me, "such an exhibition of affection may seem 
 strange to your eyes, although you will meet it often 
 in the South. Our blood has not the chill of the 
 Northern winters in it." 
 
 Someway it jarred on me to hear her say "our 
 blood" in speaking of a slave s weakness. Of 
 course they tell me the blacks are not slaves now; 
 but they have been, and it is all the same. 
 
 " I hope you will consider the matter and promise 
 to come," I said, as I arose to go. "I will endeavor 
 to have a pleasant room made ready for you, but 
 it will not be the picture this one is ; that would be 
 impossible in our bare hotel. And as to salary, I 
 am willing to pay whatever you consider sufficient 
 for your time." 
 
 "I should like to go," she said. "There is so 
 little one can do here when school is over, and it 
 pays but little. The change would be very welcome 
 to me, more so than I can tell you, and I am too 
 poor to refuse a chance of earning the money you 
 offer. I will try to come." 
 
 "Ef yo had yer rights yeh wouldn t need to take 
 hire from none deed she wouldn t, miss," asserted 
 Cassie. 
 
 "Cassie!"
 
 224 PERSEPHONE 
 
 The girl s voice was not raised higher than before, 
 but the woman seemed to recognize in it the mis 
 tress instead of the pickaninny, for she said humbly : 
 
 "I axes yer pardon, Miss Perse, deed I does." 
 
 "If I find I can go I will send Cassie to tell you 
 this evening, Miss Henderson," said the girl as she 
 walked to the very rickety equipage and assisted 
 me into it. The driver lay under a tree nearby, 
 and saw me comfortably settled in the carriage 
 before he moved toward it. 
 
 "Try to come, my dear," I said as he gathered 
 up the reins. "I like fresh young faces about me, 
 and yours would charm away much dreariness 
 from our rooms on the hill." 
 
 The driver yelled at the horses and cracked his 
 whip so that I could not hear her answer, but she 
 smiled and waved her hand to me, and when we 
 reached a point far above from where I could again 
 get a glimpse of the house, I saw her still standing 
 there, her hands clasped behind her head, looking 
 up as heedless as a young eagle of the heat and glare 
 of the sun in her eyes. 
 
 That evening Cassie came carrying a basket of 
 flowers covered with cool wet leaves -"With Miss 
 Perse s compliments, an she ll come," she said 
 exultantly, "an* I tell you I m mighty glad of it." 
 
 "So am I, my good woman," I answered, as I 
 lifted off the leaves and found under them the fra 
 grant lavender of heliotrope, and pink of sweet 
 brier, and great, velvety, yellow roses on a bed of 
 wet moss.
 
 PERSEPHONE 225 
 
 Oh, if Jack were only here to see this before it 
 fades," I said involuntarily. 
 
 "I ll bring them up every day, seein yer so fond 
 of em," said the woman; "reckon I ll have to any 
 way. This place looks mighty bar like. Miss 
 Perse 11 miss her garden a heap up here. Reckon 
 I d better bring em up every mawnen?" 
 
 While the woman waited I interviewed our land 
 lady about an extra room. 
 
 " Who fer?" she asked. 
 
 "For my companion, Miss Atkins." 
 
 "We hain t got no rooms to spar," was the curt 
 answer. 
 
 "Then my nephew must see about getting rooms 
 for us somewhere else," I said quietly. This answer 
 seemed to change her mind. 
 
 "Well," she said, "I ll see what we can do. I ll 
 speak to him about it." Directly she came back. 
 "He says you ens can hev the west room off en the 
 porch thar, either fer the young man s fixens er fer 
 Miss Atkins." 
 
 Pen can not describe the superciliousness in her 
 voice as she spoke the girl s name. Cassie must 
 have heard it, for she hesitated about going, even 
 after she had said good-by, and finally she said: 
 
 "I don t like to pear noways ficious, case Miss 
 Perse wouldn t like it nohow ; but if these yer yaller- 
 headed white trash try to make my little missie 
 mis able while she s yer, I hope yeh ll either sot 
 down on em or else send her home. Ef she had 
 her rights they d be taking off their hats to her, an 
 
 15
 
 226 PERSEPHONE 
 
 see n s she haint, they try to make it hard for the 
 child to make a decent liven among em. I hope 
 yeh ll excuse me fer speakin. I jest couldn t help 
 it, even if Miss Perse is mad. She don t never like 
 no one to mention her rights er wrongs." 
 
 "She shall hear nothing of them here, I promise 
 you," I said, touched by the creature s devotion. 
 
 "Thank you kindly fer that promise," she said 
 earnestly ; and may the Good Man bless yeh if yeh 
 help her to be a little happy." 
 
 She was really the most extraordinary creature. 
 I was always afraid to speak kindly to her, for fear 
 of one of the outbreaks I had witnessed in the little 
 house among the pines ; but she never inflicted them 
 on me, for which I was thankful. 
 
 Jack was pleased when he came home in the eve 
 ning, and learned that I had been successful ; but he 
 laughed at my decided admiration for Percy. I 
 told him of the girl s home, our conversation, and 
 our landlady s evident dislike of her. 
 
 "Jealousy, auntie; that is it," he said. "She 
 doesn t like it, because you were not satisfied with 
 her lanky daughters of the leathery complexions and 
 black teeth. I wondered at that general style of 
 beauty through here, until I became acquainted 
 with their steady diet of salt pork, corn bread, and 
 black coffee. Then I wondered no more; but, as 
 long as we can get fried chicken, flaky biscuits, 
 and clear honey from them, I won t quarrel with 
 our Carolina fare, especially since noting the benefit
 
 PERSEPHONE 227 
 
 this balsam-laden air has been to your lungs. And 
 if your paragon comes to-morrow to keep you com 
 pany, I am going up on Old Balsam for a day or two. 
 I have a guide who will go for twenty-five cents a 
 day and carry his own bacon." 
 
 "Bacon?" 
 
 "Provisions. The man said bacon, but I sup 
 pose he will have something besides that." 
 
 I tried to persuade him not to go ; or, at any rate, 
 not to sleep out on the hills. I was so horribly 
 afraid of him being snake-bitten. You see, in all 
 the accounts I had ever read of the southern part 
 of the United States, serpent stories bore a promi 
 nent part. In fact, the numerous stories of those 
 terrible objects which reach us through the American 
 papers have always been a source of wonder and 
 terror to me. But Jack laughed at the remembered 
 horrors which I recounted. 
 
 "There is no danger, auntie," he said. "They 
 tell me neither copperhead nor rattlesnake is seen 
 among the balsam woods. The snakes won t go 
 higher than four thousand feet, and the balsams 
 don t commence below that altitude, so I am safe. 
 Besides, they say there are men who live up on those 
 heights, and do not come down or see the face of a 
 human being for months at a time. I am anxious 
 to see how they live." 
 
 "At what can they work on those heights?" I 
 asked. 
 
 "Some of them are charcoal-burners, others work 
 the scattered mica mines, while others live still
 
 228 PERSEPHONE 
 
 higher up the mountains, and have kilns, where 
 they gather and clarify the pitch which they collect 
 at certain seasons from the balsam. It must be a 
 terrible life, buried in that blackness which seems 
 to lie over those hills like a pall." 
 
 "Jack, dear," I said, as he was gathering up his 
 painting materials to move into the west room. 
 "Jack, is it customary among these people for pen 
 niless working girls to keep their own servants? I 
 never have seen it anywhere else ; but this girl told 
 me plainly that she was too poor to lose a chance 
 of earning money; yet she keeps her little home, 
 and at least one servant." 
 
 "Who, no doubt, asks no wages, and does out 
 side work besides, rather than see a member of a 
 former master s family in poverty, or in need of a 
 slave s service. You see many such cases of de 
 votion among those negroes, strange as it may seem 
 to us. Say, auntie, where had I better put this? 
 I wish I had left it behind. I have lost interest in it." 
 
 The thing referred to was a three-quarter figure of 
 Persephone, in a half -finished condition. 
 
 "I am sorry for that, Jack," I said. "I know 
 how hopeful you have been of that subject." 
 
 "So I was. I never did have anything take such 
 a hold on my mind as my conception of Persephone. 
 I studied over it, dreamed over it, and had hopes of 
 it in some way making a marker for me ; but with 
 three models I have tried and failed to accomplish 
 what I want. I can t get the spirit of the thing.
 
 PERSEPHONE 229 
 
 It falls flat. Sometime I may find the face I want. 
 Until then I shall not touch it, though the thing 
 haunts me in some way, or I would not have carted 
 it over here. Oh, for such luck as Thorneycroft s ! 
 Haven t you heard the story of his Artemis, auntie 
 that perfect figure with the deerhound close beside? 
 Well, the sculptor had got to that part of his work 
 where he required a hound for a model. That day 
 a beautiful deerhound came to his door, and utterly 
 refused to leave. It was exactly what he wanted, 
 so he used it as a model, and made inquiries about 
 its owner. None could be discovered, and on the 
 night of the day the model was finished it died. 
 Now, what more reasonable than to suppose that 
 the goddess sent a spirit in the shape of the hound 
 to serve that purpose, and recalled it when the model 
 was finished to her satisfaction. Why can t the 
 gods favor us equally, and send me a model as well?" 
 
 "For mercy s sake, Jack," I said, "don t talk 
 such heathenish nonsense." 
 
 "Is it heathenish? Well, let us hope that some 
 day my model will come to me, even if from hea 
 thendom ; or perhaps I shall find her among the 
 snuff -chewers of these mountains." And he went 
 out laughing at the idea. 
 
 At once the thought came to my mind of the girl 
 down among the pines. There was the somber 
 light of hopelessness in her eyes, except when she 
 smiled; and surely there was beauty, grace, and 
 pride enough in her face and form to make her an 
 artist s model for the Queen of Hades!
 
 230 PERSEPHONE 
 
 In my quiet way I was elated. Perhaps I had 
 at last found what he wanted. But I said nothing. 
 I remembered a former occasion when I thought I 
 had found him a Hebe, and was in ecstasies over 
 her pink and white prettiness, when Jack cooled 
 my ardor by telling me she was "beefy" a hor 
 rible expression ; the young men have so many now 
 adays and I vowed then never to hunt for models 
 again. So I kept quiet, and bided my time. 
 
 In the morning I got Jack to send Hugh, our 
 landlord s son and man-of -all-work, after Miss 
 Atkins. There was a little demur on Hugh s part. 
 I heard him over the veranda, growling to his 
 mother through the kitchen window. 
 
 " Blamed ef I me agoin to wait on her, an drive 
 her round . Why don t you tell her ? 
 
 "I don t allow to do no such a thing!" It was 
 Mrs. Snodgrass high-pitched voice. "She comes 
 here with her hifalutin idees, and thinks plain-spoken 
 white folks ain t fitten for em to talk to. So jest let 
 her find her company whar she pleases. She s wel 
 come to, fer all o me. I don t allow to give no ad 
 vice, and don t any of you ens dar to you hear me ! 
 Hugh, you go and hitch up them creeturs this minute. 
 Alviny, go an kill one o them Dominakys fer dinner. 
 Reckon yeh d better kill two; that young painter 
 chap eats right smart. It s mighty little we d make 
 off them if it wasn t for the lot of rooms they pay 
 fer." 
 
 I did not exactly understand the remarks I over 
 heard, and did not exactly care to. Miss Atkins
 
 PERSEPHONE 231 
 
 was intelligent, and would suit me as a companion. 
 She was beautiful, and might be what Jack wanted 
 as a model. She was evidently a lady, and I was 
 inclined to think with Jack, that Mrs. Snodgrass 
 dislike to her arose from jealousy. 
 
 " I am going around the point there to see if I can 
 get some fish in the pools of that mountain stream, " 
 said Jack, as the lumbering carriage creaked down 
 the hill. " I shall be back in time for dinner, and 
 suppose I shall find your newly discovered treasure 
 in complete possession of you. Don t fall in love 
 with her and forget me ! Good-by. " 
 
 He waved his hat to me from the road when he saw 
 me watching him through the window. He seemed 
 so full of the happiness of youth and strength that it 
 did my old eyes good to look at him. In my opinion 
 he is handsomer than any of the pictures he paints 
 with his six feet one, his straightforward, level-look 
 ing blue eyes, and his catching smile. I sat there, 
 watching him, thinking how good it is to have youth 
 and know its worth, as Jack seemed to do, for often 
 when. I have scolded him for working too hard he has 
 said : " It is now or never, auntie. If I don t make a 
 marker for myself while I am young the chances are 
 that I never shall. I see so many lose ambition as 
 they find the years gaining on them. " 
 
 I was thinking of this as my eyes rested on his tall 
 figure swinging down the road. 
 
 "Yeh d better not do that!" said a voice at my 
 elbow. I turned with a start. Behind me was the 
 bilious-looking girl, Alviny, with some towels.
 
 232 PERSEPHONE 
 
 "Better not do what?" I asked sharply. 
 
 " Yeh d better not watch him out o sight. It s a 
 sartin hoodoo." 
 
 A what ? " I asked. I actually began to think the 
 girl was insane. She always made me nervous, with 
 her vacant yellow face and monotonous voice, in 
 which there was never heard a varying note. 
 
 "A hoodoo bad luck, yeh know. Ole black 
 Marm Hepsey says it s a sartin hoodoo to watch any 
 one out o sight. They don t never come back the 
 same. " 
 
 "For mercy s sake don t talk such superstitious 
 nonsense, " I snapped. " Hoodoo, indeed ! " 
 
 "I ve heerd more folks an you make light o the 
 same thing, but they never gained much luck from it, 
 as ever I see." 
 
 " There, that will do. You can leave the towels, " 
 I said, and felt relieved when she sidled out of the 
 room. 
 
 Cassie came with my new companion, carrying her 
 little wardrobe, which I noticed was of the cheapest, 
 and insisted on " Miss Perse " allowing her to arrange 
 the things on their pegs in the little bedroom. 
 
 "Jess yo sot still, chile," she commanded, "an* 
 lem me lone. I reckon yeh 11 have to wait on yer- 
 self an ole miss, too, while you s heah but not till I 
 
 go." 
 
 The girl wore a plain, tight -fitting dress of reddish 
 
 delaine. On anyone else it would have been hideous. 
 On her it was just the thing I should want Jack to see 
 her in. It looked like dull-red flame with the girl s
 
 PERSEPHONE 233 
 
 dark face above it the best possible thing for Perse 
 phone. 
 
 " That will do, Cassie, " she said to the woman, who 
 was smoothing out the poor dresses and spending all 
 the time possible on her duties. "You had better 
 go now. Be careful of the garden, and attend to the 
 young chickens. I hope you will not be very lonely. " 
 
 " Lor bless yeh, honey, I 11 have too much to do to 
 be lonesome, an 111 tend to them thar chickens same 
 as yo self. An an I can come up sometimes to 
 see yeh, I reckon, an bring ye flowers, er anything 
 yeh may want?" 
 
 The girl looked at me questioningly. 
 
 "Certainly," I said. "No doubt your mistress 
 will need to see you often about her household 
 affairs." 
 
 "Thank yo kindly, miss. You s mighty co sid- 
 erate like ; an it seems hard fer her old mammy to 
 leave her fer long at a time. This night 11 be the 
 fust since she was bawn that she evah slep thout 
 me aside her bed. But we ll have to get used to it 
 sometime. I spect the time is a-comin when we 
 can t alles be together. Good-day to you, miss. 
 Good-by chile; good-by, honey! The Good Man 
 bless yeh an keep yeh safe fer yer ole mammy." 
 
 The girl stooped and kissed the black cheek in 
 good-by, as she said : 
 
 "As long as I live I will want you near me, Cassie. 
 No other will love me so well. " 
 
 She threw a kiss to the woman as she passed under 
 the window, but she did not watch her out of sight.
 
 2 3 4 PERSEPHONE 
 
 I wondered if she had heard of " hoodooing. " I be 
 gan to wish Jack would return. That corpse-like 
 girl had said people never came back the same. I 
 actually began to be anxious for him to reappear. 
 
 The girl arranged flowers she had brought in gob 
 lets and a large water-pitcher. In some way her 
 very presence seemed to add charm to those bare 
 rooms as she moved about. 
 
 Looking over some books I had brought, among 
 which were some late magazines, she turned to me 
 smiling : 
 
 "Have you any idea, Miss Henderson, what a 
 world-forgotten nook you have come to for your 
 summer? This is the first magazine I have seen 
 within five years. I can not afford to subscribe for 
 them, and I know no person in this neighborhood 
 who reads anything beyond an old newspaper now 
 and again. 
 
 " I am glad, then, to be able to give you a treat, 
 I answered, "as Jack has quite a number with him, 
 and will get more." 
 
 "Jack?" 
 
 "My nephew, Jack Hilyard. I expect him back 
 soon to dinner, and in the meantime, Miss Atkins, 
 will you not read a little to me? Make your own 
 selections. 
 
 Miss Henderson, the girl said, looking not at 
 me, but across me, if you had brought a maid with 
 you, what would you have called her if her name 
 had been Ellen Smith?" 
 
 "What a question? Ellen, I suppose. Why?"
 
 PERSEPHONE 235 
 
 " Because I would rather have you consider me 
 the same, and call me by my first name. I am sel 
 dom called Miss Atkins, and much prefer the other. 
 Besides, it seems best so. 
 
 "Just as you please, my dear," I said. "I am 
 sure I shall be glad to call you Percy. It has a mas 
 culine sound. Is it a family name? I used to know 
 Percys." 
 
 "No," she said, raising the blind a little to let 
 in more light for her reading. "It is merely short 
 for What a strange picture!" 
 
 Raising the blind had let in a flood of light to the 
 corner where Jack had set the easel with his Queen 
 of Hades. As the girl turned, it was facing her, and 
 then I understood what Jack meant when he said 
 it was "flat." 
 
 The picture face looked sullen by contrast with 
 the human one opposite it. She was standing half- 
 turned from the window, her hand still on the cur 
 tain, with her face half in light, half in shadow. A 
 ray of sunlight glimmered through the folds and lay 
 blood-red over her arm and shoulder. She stood 
 gazing at the painting, her brown eyes changing as 
 she seemed to dimly understand the subject. I sat 
 watching the picture she made with the light and 
 the shadow about her. She drew a long breath and 
 asked: "What is it?" 
 
 "A painting by my nephew on a mythological 
 subject Persephone. 
 
 "Persephone!" she echoed. "I thought that 
 must be it. That is my name."
 
 236 PERSEPHONE 
 
 "Persephone!" 
 
 But this time it was Jack s voice in the doorway. 
 I turned and saw that he, too, had been watching 
 the living Persephone. He crossed the room with 
 quick strides, passing my chair as if he did not see 
 me, and stood beside her. 
 
 "I have found you at last," he said eagerly. 
 
 "Persephone!" 
 
 "Jack!" I cried. 
 
 The girl stood quite still, her head thrown back 
 in a startled way, her eyes on his, while her face 
 grew white. At that moment I had faith in hoodoo- 
 ism. Assuredly, Jack had come back not the same. 
 
 "For mercy s sake, Jack!" I repeated. 
 
 Then he seemed to remember proprieties. 
 
 "How unpardonable of me," he said, half laugh 
 ing. "I beg you will forgive me, though I fear I 
 can scarcely explain to your satisfaction the cause 
 of my rudeness. Auntie, you must help me." 
 
 "I shall do nothing of the sort," I said crossly. 
 "Such rudeness is inexcusable. Percy, child, come 
 here to me. Don t look so frightened." 
 
 She came and sat on a low chair beside me. 
 
 "I am not frightened," she said. 
 
 Her hand lay on the arm of my chair. I touched 
 it with mine. It was icy cold. 
 
 "Not frightened," I said, "and your hands cold 
 and trembling. Jack, until you avow yourself 
 thoroughly ashamed and promise never again to 
 so far forget yourself, I shall refuse to introduce 
 you."
 
 PERSEPHONE 237 
 
 " I am very penitent, and will promise anything, " 
 he said, stooping to kiss my hand in mock contrition. 
 My hand held hers. He must have touched it, for 
 she drew it away half shyly. 
 
 "Percy," I said, "this is my nephew, Jack Hil- 
 yard, whose eccentric, impulsive manner just now 
 I hope you will try to overlook. Jack, this is Miss 
 Atkins, who is to remain with me during my stay. " 
 
 "And for whom I shall try to redeem the bad 
 impression I have evidently made, " he said. " Will 
 you not shake hands, Miss Atkins, and begin our 
 acquaintance by trying to forgive me?" 
 
 She arose and reached out her hand to him. 
 
 " There is nothing to pardon, " she said with 
 stately courtesy, her solemn brown eyes looking at 
 him levelly, with no trace of consciousness or 
 coquetry in her manner, for which I was thankful; 
 for, under the circumstances, a vain girl, or a de 
 signing one, might have taken advantage of such 
 a strange entrance as Jack s. I was glad to see my 
 opinion that she was a lady, indorsed by her man 
 ner. A little later Alviny came to tell us dinner 
 was ready. 
 
 "Come," I said to her, as Jack went to change 
 his coat. 
 
 "With you?" she asked. "I had better wait, 
 had I not? To you I am only a servant." 
 
 "Nonsense," I said. "You are my companion, 
 and I will not have you get such ideas into your 
 head. I am no grand lady, but a very plain, un 
 assuming old woman, who looks after her own house-
 
 238 PERSEPHONE 
 
 keeping when at home. But Jack lets me remain 
 there so little -lately that I am growing quite a 
 stranger to King s Lynn, and am getting to be 
 almost as much of a vagabond as himself. Not 
 another word about your station as a servant. 
 Come along. " 
 
 And so began our acquaintance with Persephone, 
 for that was what we grew to call her. Before her 
 first week with us was over Jack had broached 
 the subject of her sitting as his model. 
 
 "Are you willing?" she asked me. 
 
 " It is what I most wish for, my dear," I said. " If 
 you consent I am sure he can accomplish what he 
 has hitherto tried in vain." 
 
 "You think he cannot do it without me?" 
 
 " I do not think he can do it so well without you. 
 When he first saw you he recognized his ideal of 
 Persephone. You remember?" I asked. 
 
 "Yes, I remember," she said, "and I will be 
 glad to be of use to him. I think I understand 
 now why I was called Persephone." 
 
 It was certainly a strange remark to make, but 
 the girl herself seemed strange to me at times. 
 She became so necessary that I wondered how I 
 had ever managed to do without her. She read 
 in her soft, melodious voice ; she drove me over the 
 hills, every shady nook of which she seemed to 
 know, every spring where the water was clearest 
 and coolest, every call of the birds or haunt of the 
 squirrels, which we would startle with the creak of
 
 PERSEPHONE 239 
 
 our carriage. More than once we stopped at the 
 little house among the pines. At such times the 
 delighted Cassie always had some johnny-cake and 
 honey, or corn-bread and sweet butter and milk 
 to offer us, and would fill our arms with flowers, 
 of which there was a profusion. 
 
 "They take up but little room," Persephone ex 
 plained one day, as we returned to the carriage 
 laden with sweet-smelling blossoms, "and we 
 have garden enough left to raise all we can find 
 market for here ; and even for that and our chickens 
 we have to take flour, meat, and such things. It 
 is seldom that we get any money for them unless 
 Cassie takes them to Wayneville; but it is too far 
 to send her there often." 
 
 " It is a dismal life for you, " I said. I had always 
 avoided speaking of her life, feeling, from Cassie s 
 words, that it might be unpleasant for her. 
 
 " It was not so until my mother died, four years 
 ago. Since then it has seemed dreary, often." 
 
 It was the first time I had ever heard her mention 
 her mother. 
 
 " You are, no doubt, much attached to the place, " 
 I said. " People generally are to their birthplace. " 
 
 "But this is not the place of my birth," she 
 answered. "I was born in Sicily." 
 
 "How strange to find a Sicilian-born creature 
 in these wilds. But you are not Sicilian?" I asked. 
 
 "I? Oh, no. My parents were traveling in 
 Europe, and by a series of unforeseen delays they
 
 2 4 o PERSEPHONE 
 
 were compelled to remain some time in Sicily. While 
 there I was born, near the spot where mythology 
 tells us Persephone was seized and carried to Hades 
 by her dark lover. The story told to my mother, 
 amid those peculiar surroundings, made a decided 
 impression on her mind, so much so that it influenced 
 her choice of my name. But my stay in Sicily was 
 short, as we returned here to Carolina almost im 
 mediately after my birth." 
 
 I rode home in silence. I never was super 
 stitious, but a decidedly uncanny felling had taken 
 possession of me. Could such a condition of affairs 
 be merely a coincidence, or was it a case similar to 
 that of the deerhound that came to Thorneycrof t ? 
 Would she disappear when the picture was finished ? 
 Had the goddess sent her? These, and a dozen 
 other conjectures, had taken possession of my fool 
 ish old head, put there by Jack s wild vagaries. I 
 longed to continue the conversation, but the girl s 
 manner did not invite further inquiry. She sat 
 silent, gazing over the precipice above which we 
 were driving, down to the roof of her little house, 
 discernible among the trees. She had lost much of 
 her sad expression after coming to me. There was 
 more color in her face. Her eyes were less somber, 
 and she had in some way lost much of her still, 
 stately repose, and at times was restless and change 
 ful in her moods, but always charming to me. 
 
 I don t know what she was to Jack in those days. 
 Sometimes I thought she was merely an odd type
 
 PERSEPHONE 241 
 
 of woman that he was fond of studying in his careless, 
 philosophical way just as he would have done had 
 he been a physician and she a subject calling for 
 delicate, intricate analysis. He had known many 
 handsome girls, but, outside his art, that was the 
 only interest I ever knew one to awaken in him. 
 
 I say sometimes I thought that and then 
 again I don t know. 
 
 He would tell her tales of our foreign journeys, 
 and watch with amusement her expressive face 
 portraying her sympathy, her wonder, her delight, 
 at the many incidents of travel, risk of adventure, 
 or description of old-world beauties. He laughed 
 at her for the intense interest she would show at 
 the slightest thing he told her. He remarked to 
 me once that she seemed like one whose mind had 
 been closed to all knowledge of the world, so eager 
 was her desire for learning in all things. He would 
 listen to the mournful negro songs she sang some 
 times in the evenings, with her guitar as accom 
 paniment, and sketch her in innumerable attitudes, 
 besides the Persephone he had commenced of her. 
 He spent most of his time in his room, working. 
 The sketches of mountain scenery he had come for 
 were neglected. 
 
 "You might as well have returned to King s 
 Lynn," I said, half -vexed with him for dragging 
 me among those hills to rough it, when he could 
 have had so many more conveniences in our little 
 English home the house Betty and I were born in.
 
 242 PERSEPHONE 
 
 "You forget m>y Persephone, auntie, he said. 
 " I would never have found her in King s Lynn. 
 I think fate sent us here." 
 
 And sometimes I think it did. 
 
 " But don t call her your Persephone," I said ; 
 "she might hear you." 
 
 "Well, she is mine, is she not? or, rather, ours? 
 You and I discovered her. She has been resur 
 rected for my picture, and I claim her, " he said, 
 stepping back to get a better view of the drapery 
 he was touching up. He was thinking only of his 
 work. To him she was his Persephone, that was 
 all never a woman. He irritated me sometimes 
 with that sort of carelessness, and just then, espe 
 cially, for through the open window I saw the girl s 
 gray dress on the veranda without, and feared she 
 had heard him. 
 
 "For mercy s sake, Jack," I said, "if you forget 
 everything else, try and remember that Persephone 
 ate the pomegranate and returns whence she came 
 when the leaves fall. " 
 
 "But my picture will be finished then," he 
 said, and laughed a little at my earnestness. 
 
 Another laugh followed his a low, mirthless 
 one as the girl stepped through the low window. 
 
 "Whence she came, Miss Henderson!" she re 
 peated; "that was Hades, was it not? But that 
 does not matter, so long as the picture is finished. 
 I am ready now, Mr. Hilyard, for the sitting. " 
 
 Her face was a little pale, her voice a little metallic, 
 and her lips were drawn closely together. I saw
 
 PERSEPHONE 243 
 
 that she had heard. Jack, the stupid, saw nothing 
 as he placed her to his liking, except that her face 
 was what he wanted. 
 
 "So!" he said, looking at her critically; "that is 
 it. The expression is what I have been trying to 
 get. It is perfect." He went on working hastily 
 while he talked. " There is in your eyes just that 
 subtle sadness of the goddess, casting secret glances 
 into the shadows to which she must return. Is it 
 an inspiration, Miss Atkins? You must have been 
 reading up Persephone." 
 
 "I do not need to read it," she said; "I know 
 it." 
 
 "Of course, everyone knows it," he answered, 
 "but few can look it as you do. In two weeks we 
 are to return to England, and I hope to carry it 
 with me completed." 
 
 "You go so soon?" she asked me. 
 
 "So he says, my dear," I answered. "He always 
 carries me with him, when and where he will. He 
 brought me here against my will, and I suppose 
 intends to take me away in the same fashion. 
 Of course the fried chicken and johnny-cake are 
 getting monotonous, but you have helped to make 
 my days so pleasant I shall be sorry to leave 
 you." 
 
 She stooped and kissed my hand with a caressing 
 movement, and then looked at Jack. Did she ex 
 pect him also to express regret ? He did not seem 
 to notice.
 
 244 PERSEPHONE 
 
 Cassie came while he was still working. She 
 brought a great bunch of purple passion flowers, 
 and some starry jasmine, which she insisted on 
 arranging in the girl s dark hair. 
 
 "Cassie has no sense of the fitness of things," 
 she said to me. "The idea of Persephone crowned 
 with jasmine." 
 
 Jack turned and looked at her. 
 
 " Your woman has good taste, " he said carelessly ; 
 "you will please stand here again for a moment? I 
 want your hand clasping the drapery so, but per 
 haps you are tired." 
 
 "Am I ever tired?" 
 
 That was all she said, but I saw the negro woman 
 look up quickly and watch the girl in a strange, 
 questioning way. Then I remembered this was 
 the first time Cassie had ever happened to come in 
 when she was standing as his model. Perhaps, I 
 thought, she does not approve. She said nothing; 
 only asking before she left how soon her mistress 
 would be home. 
 
 "Soon, Cassie; very soon," she answered. 
 
 " Cause, honey, " I heard her say as the girl went 
 out on the veranda with her, " cause yeh know 
 them two months is all but gone." 
 
 "No need to tell me I remember." 
 
 "I s feard things heah might larn yeh to forget. 
 I I spect yeh couldn t come now right away?" 
 There was so much earnestness in the woman s voice 
 that it compelled my attention, half unconscious 
 that I was listening, until they had ceased talking.
 
 PERSEPHONE 245 
 
 "Nonsense, Cassie; why should I? You can 
 attend to the place a little longer. It will not be 
 long that either of us will have it to care for. " 
 
 "Tain t the place, Missee Perse, and tain t the 
 work. But sence I went in thar with them flowers, 
 somethin made me member Miss Clio s fear for yo 
 future, an what yer promised her." 
 
 "That will do, Cassie; you can go!" The voice 
 was imperious, and I heard no reply, only the 
 woman walking slowly toward the steps, and then 
 I heard the girl s quick feet follow her, and could 
 make out a murmur of voices in which Cassie seemed 
 to be petting her, and trying to comfort her in 
 some way. Then I heard the girl say: 
 
 "Good-by, Cassie. I shall never be cross again, 
 and I will not forget." 
 
 I began to wonder in an aimless way what it all 
 meant. The girl was all I could wish for as a com 
 panion, and I was seriously thinking of proposing 
 that she should go to England with me. Surely, 
 I thought, she could earn a better living there than 
 among these uncouth people, who seemed averse 
 to giving her any help, if I could judge by the Snod- 
 grass family. I had never heard her mention a 
 friend or even an acquaintance. Several times I 
 was about to broach the subject of her leaving with 
 me for a home, where I could insure her aid and 
 friendship, but the girl s reticence, approaching 
 mystery, checked me, and another incident did 
 more.
 
 246 PERSEPHONE 
 
 Jack had called her in from the veranda, where 
 she was reading to me. That was the last day he 
 needed her for his picture. He led her where she 
 would get the best view of it. 
 
 "I want you," he said half laughingly, but with 
 a certain pride for his work in his voice "I want 
 you to take a good look at the face that is to make 
 my fortune. " 
 
 Your fortune ? 
 
 "Well, the first marker toward it. If I ever win, 
 that will win for me. I always felt it would if I 
 could find the Persephone I had in mind." 
 
 "And I am it?" 
 
 "Don t speak of yourself as It, he said gently; 
 "we only speak of humanity so when death has 
 touched the earthy part. And the life you have 
 helped me to give to my work has nothing of the 
 grim specter in it." 
 
 Her hand was resting on the back of a chair as 
 they stood before the picture. He stooped and 
 touched it with his lips, half in gratitude, half in 
 gallantry, as he would have done had it been mine, 
 with as little thought of what meaning such an 
 action might have for a girl so unused to the empty 
 gallantries of society. He has a way of doing 
 things carelessly, which might seem to others 
 significant. 
 
 The girl drew back and looked at him, rmch as 
 she had done on the day of his impetuous entrance, 
 when he saw her first. Then she turned and walked 
 out to where I was sitting.
 
 PERSEPHONE 247 
 
 "He is done with me," she said, trying to speak 
 lightly. "He will need me no more; the picture 
 is finished. " 
 
 "Read something to me," I said, with a queer 
 feeling that neither of us could talk just then. 
 
 She brought a volume of Southey, and among 
 other quaint things read that story of the dead 
 virgin whose body an evil spirit inhabited after 
 her own soul was gone. She finished it, and then 
 turned suddenly to me. 
 
 "I wonder," she said, "if there are people who 
 live on like that, after all their own soul has been 
 drawn from them and if so, how like animals with 
 only instincts they would be!" 
 
 This was such a very peculiar question I could 
 not find an answer at once, and before I could col 
 lect my ideas, voices were heard in the court below, 
 and we both seemed to forget to continue the 
 subject. 
 
 "Pap says he s down thar at the store now," 
 came Mrs. Snodgrass falsetto, "an ef he gets wind 
 o this, I ll go bail thar ll be trouble. He s jest fool 
 enough to think thar ain t no one ekal to er. " 
 
 "Air yeh sure it s settled atween em?" The 
 questioner was the monotonous Alviny. 
 
 "Wall, I reckon it is! That was all settled 
 while her marm was living her doin s, I s pose. 
 She knew no one else would evah marry er, an he s 
 been dead sot on her evah sence they was chillen. 
 An he won t stand no lusions bout er, nuther
 
 248 PERSEPHONE 
 
 had several fights, they say, up thar amongst them 
 charcoal burners about it, an now they leave him 
 alone. " 
 
 "An they say," broke in Hugh, "that he has 
 been puttin up a right smart shanty in easy reach 
 of the balsams, with all sorts o gim-cracks, an 
 a garden fenced in, an all. " 
 
 "I d think," said Alviny, "he d ruther live down 
 thar in the bottom." 
 
 "He can t, an work in the balsams; an then the 
 house down thar is mortgaged to its full vally; an 
 I reckon it ll soon be closed. They hain t the 
 money to pay it off. " 
 
 "Some way," said Hugh, "I wouldn t be much 
 s prised ef she didn t marry him, after all." 
 
 "Stuff!" said his mother; "she can t better her 
 self. No white man in the State ud marry her 
 but Hen Oker, even if her marm was kep like a 
 lady es long as he could afford it. An some do 
 say he married her in furren parts afore he died ; 
 but that don t noways change the fact that she was 
 bought by his father afore the wah, jest the same 
 es any o the other niggahs. " 
 
 "She was white as white," said the other daugh 
 ter. 
 
 "So s this un, fer the matter o that. But them 
 as knows can tell the signs o the black blood. " 
 
 Then Hugh lounged out to the gate, and the 
 women went back to their dish-washing, and I 
 could hear no more. The sun was going down 
 back of the hills, whose tops seemed even more
 
 PERSEPHONE 249 
 
 gloomy and funereal than ever. Jack had told 
 me it was somewhere up among them that the char 
 coal and wood-men lived, and I always felt sorry 
 for those isolated, unseen workers. I was think 
 ing of them and the man s new shanty among 
 them when I turned to speak to Persephone. 
 
 She also was looking out toward the hills, and 
 her face had in it that which frightened me hope 
 lessness! horror! dread! what was it?" 
 
 "Persephone!" I cried. 
 
 She turned, but looked at me without speaking. 
 
 "Persephone, what is it?" I asked half fearfully. 
 "You seemed to be looking at some horrible thing! 
 You frightened me. " 
 
 "I am sorry," she said; "I forgot I was not 
 alone." 
 
 "Of what were you thinking, child?" 
 
 "Of what? Oh, of many things. Did you 
 ever become frightened through taking a look into 
 your inner self? No. I suppose not. Well, I did 
 that just now, and it was not a pleasant picture." 
 
 "Child, you give me the horrors," I said; "don t 
 talk any more. Sing something." 
 
 She went in for the guitar. The moon was just 
 rising, round and full, and as bright almost as the 
 sun of which the last shafts had not yet disappeared. 
 It made the room light enough to see the picture 
 from where I sat. 
 
 "I wonder," she said, as she came back, "if 
 Persephone did not think, after all, that it was
 
 250 PERSEPHONE 
 
 worth enduring Hades for the happiness she en 
 joyed in her season of sunshine. I think now it 
 would have been. If I had conceived the idea 
 before, the face in Mr. Hilyard s Persephone would 
 have been triumphant in having once more gained 
 the light, instead of fearful at the thought of return 
 to darkness. 
 
 "Then Mr. Hilyard is thankful you did not 
 think of it, " said Jack, coming out on the veranda. 
 "My Persephone is just what I want her in 
 expression. Sing something for me. " 
 
 "For you?" she said, with the first sign of co 
 quetry I had ever seen in her manner, and I found 
 myself watching her fearfully as she glanced at him, 
 showing her perfect teeth and brilliant eyes in the 
 soft, cool light. What was it ailed the girl? where 
 was the anguish of a few moments before or traces 
 of the thoughts her few sentences had given the 
 key to? She smiled down in Jack s face, who had 
 stretched himself lazily beside her, as if she had 
 never done anything but smile. Once she saw me 
 looking at her curiously, and must have understood, 
 for she leaned over and laid her hand on mine. It 
 was cold. 
 
 "Your hands" I began. 
 
 "Never mind," she said, "they will get warm 
 sometime." 
 
 Then she sang. I had heard her sing often, but 
 never as she did then. I know of nothing with 
 which to compare it. Jack listened carelessly at 
 first. He had heard many fine, better-trained
 
 PERSEPHONE 251 
 
 voices, but never a more sympathetic one, or one 
 with so much expression. Added to this, there 
 was a magnetic power in the voice, or in the girl 
 herself, which forbade listlessness when she sang. 
 It overcame Jack s supineness. I could see him 
 listening as I had never known him to listen to any 
 woman before, his eyes almost as bright as her 
 own. Did she notice it, too? Her cheeks were 
 flushed. I could see her eyes were on his as she 
 went from a pathetic slave song to one she had 
 found in a late magazine. I had heard the same 
 song several times before, and never remembered 
 the words. I heard her sing it that once, and I do 
 not think I shall ever forget them : 
 
 "When the reaper rests to bind 
 
 Summer into sheaves, 
 Wouldst thou ask the harvest wind 
 Why it loves the leaves? 
 
 Wouldst thou ask of word or tune 
 
 Why their souls agree ? 
 Or why the ever changeful moon 
 
 Woos the inconstant sea? 
 
 Nature asks not whence or how, 
 
 Nature cares not why. 
 Tis enough that thou art thou, 
 And that I am I." 
 
 Before she had finished I heard someone coming 
 up the steps toward us. She must have heard it, 
 too, and known who it was, for the flush died out 
 of her face, though she did not falter in the song. 
 The steps stopped beside her. With the last line 
 her hand dropped to her side, where Jack lay. Did
 
 252 PERSEPHONE 
 
 he touch it? I could not see from where I sat. I 
 know she raised it and touched it to her lips. Then 
 she arose and turned to the man standing beside 
 her. 
 
 " You have come, Hen, " she said ; " I am ready. " 
 
 "I was afraid yeh might forget," said the man, 
 evidently for some reason expecting a different 
 reception. He was a big, heavy -looking country 
 man. "They told me yer wouldn t keep your 
 promise." 
 
 "They did not know," she said quietly, and I 
 began to wonder how many different phases of 
 character it is possible for a woman to have. "I 
 will keep my promise, and I will go now at once, 
 if you want me. " 
 
 "You know," that was all he said. 
 
 Jack then seemed to understand. He rose to 
 his feet and came to me. 
 
 "What does it mean, Auntie Jeanne?" he asked. 
 
 She turned to me. " Can you remember the con 
 versation we heard down there?" she asked. 
 "They spoke of a girl whom but one white man 
 would marry. I was the girl of whom they spoke. 
 You heard the rest of the story no need to repeat 
 it. And I must go go now while I am able. I 
 thank you for the sunshine you have given me. It 
 will help to lighten the balsam woods for the rest 
 of my life. Good-by. " 
 
 Jack sprang to her side as she went to take the 
 man s hand.
 
 PERSEPHONE 253 
 
 "Persephone wait!" he said; "Where are you 
 going? I want you." 
 
 "You will want me no more. You have that," 
 and she pointed through the window. Then she 
 turned to him defiantly. "Do you know what I 
 am?" she asked; "I am the child of a slave ah! 
 I thought that would change you," as he drew 
 back with a gesture as if to stop her. "Just now 
 I saw what was in your eyes, and that memory 
 will be with me always. But I knew, even in my 
 triumph, that it could not last the tainted blood 
 would drown it. I remember my mother s story. 
 That she was a wife did not save her from desert ion." 
 
 Then she came over to my side. 
 
 " Do not judge me harshly, " she whispered. "At 
 first I thought you knew, and after I saw him I 
 could not tell you. You see," and she laughed a 
 little, "I am Persephone. I knew what the falling 
 leaves would bring, but I longed so for the sun- 
 light." 
 
 "Where are you going?" Jack demanded as she 
 passed him on her way to the man, who stood as 
 if scarcely understanding, but waiting for her. 
 
 "Going?" and she laughed again. "I am go 
 ing where the other Persephone went to. Come, 
 Hen." 
 
 "We are going into the balsam hills," said the 
 man, taking her hand, and they walked away in 
 the moonlight down the steps. She did not look 
 back once,
 
 254 PERSEPHONE 
 
 That was two years ago. We are back in Eng 
 land again, where Jack s picture has put him 
 on the high road to fortune, and has won for him 
 an enviable position in his profession. He is not 
 quite the same boy as he was when we took that 
 trip to the Carolina hills. He is a little more quiet 
 and less careless in little things. And I don t hear 
 his boyish laugh through the house so often now. 
 I notice that he keeps his sketches of that summer 
 in a portfolio by themselves, and always near him. 
 I see him looking over them often, smoking very 
 big cigars, and very many of them. But of his 
 model for Persephone we have never exchanged 
 words since that September night when we saw 
 her last, led down the steps by the man from the 
 balsam hills. 
 
 It is the only subject in our lives which we ap 
 pear by common consent to silently avoid. It 
 seems to be the one about which we can have noth 
 ing to say. 
 
 And I do not think the time will ever come when 
 we shall.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 Form L9-32m-8, 57 (.C8680g4)444
 
 A 001 246875 7