IV
The little girl rose startled, but her breeding was too fine forbetrayal, and she went to him with hand outstretched. The boy took it ashe had taken her father's, limply and without rising. The father frownedand smiled--how could the lad have learned manners? And then he, too, sawthe hole in the moccasin through which the bleeding had started again.
"You are hurt--you have walked a long way?"
The lad shrugged his shoulders carelessly.
"Three days--I had to shoot horse."
"Take him into the kitchen, Barbara, and tell Hannah to wash his footand bandage it."
The boy looked uncomfortable and shook his head, but the little girl wassmiling and she told him to come with such sweet imperiousness that herose helplessly. Old Hannah's eyes made a bewildered start!
"You go on back an' wait for yo' company, little Miss; I'll 'tend to_him_!"
And when the boy still protested, she flared up:
"Looky here, son, little Miss tell me to wash yo' foot, an' I'se gwinterdo it, ef I got to tie you fust; now you keep still. Whar you comefrom?"
His answer was a somewhat haughty grunt that at once touched the quickinstincts of the old negress and checked further question. Swiftly andsilently she bound his foot, and with great respect she led him to alittle room in one ell of the great house in which was a tub of warmwater.
"Ole marster say you been travellin' an' mebbe you like to refreshyo'self wid a hot bath. Dar's some o' little marster's clothes on de beddar, an' a pair o' his shoes, an' I know dey'll jus' fit you snug.You'll find all de folks on de front po'ch when you git through."
She closed the door. Once, winter and summer, the boy had daily plungedinto the river with his Indian companions, but he had never had a bathin his life, and he did not know what the word meant; yet he had learnedso much at the fort that he had no trouble making out what the tub ofwater was for. For the same reason he felt no surprise when he picked upthe clothes; he was only puzzled how to get into them. He tried, andstruggling with the breeches he threw one hand out to the wall to keepfrom falling and caught a red cord with a bushy red tassel; whereatthere was a ringing that made him spring away from it. A moment laterthere was a knock at his door.
"Did you ring, suh?" asked a voice. What that meant he did not know, andhe made no answer. The door was opened slightly and a woolly headappeared.
"Do you want anything, suh?"
"No."
"Den I reckon hit was anudder bell--Yassuh."
The boy began putting on his own clothes.
Outside Colonel Dale and Barbara had strolled down the big path to thesun-dial, the colonel telling the story of the little Kentuckykinsman--the little girl listening and wide-eyed.
"Is he going to live here with us, papa?"
"Perhaps. You must be very nice to him. He has lived a rude, rough life,but I can see he is very sensitive."
At the bend of the river there was the flash of dripping oars, and thesong of the black oarsmen came across the yellow flood.
"There they come!" cried Barbara. And from his window the littleKentuckian saw the company coming up the path, brave with gay clothesand smiles and gallantries. The colonel walked with a grand lady at thehead, behind were the belles and beaux, and bringing up the rear wasBarbara, escorted by a youth of his own age, who carried his hat underhis arm and bore himself as haughtily as his elders. No sooner did hesee them mounting to the porch than there was the sound of a horn in therear, and looking out of the other window the lad saw a coach and fourdash through the gate and swing around the road that encircled the greattrees, and up to the rear portico, where there was a joyous clamor ofgreetings. Where did all those people come from? Were they going to staythere and would he have to be among them? All the men were dressed alikeand not one was dressed like him. Panic assailed him, and once more helooked at the clothes on the bed, and then without hesitation walkedthrough the hallway, and stopped on the threshold of the front door. Aquaint figure he made there, and for the moment the gay talk andlaughter quite ceased. The story of him already had been told, andalready was sweeping from cabin to cabin to the farthest edge of thegreat plantation. Mrs. General Willoughby lifted her lorgnettes to studyhim curiously, the young ladies turned a battery of searching butfriendly rays upon him, the young men regarded him with tolerance andrepressed amusement, and Barbara, already his champion, turned her eyesfrom one to the other of them, but always seeing him. No son of Powhatancould have stood there with more dignity, and young Harry Dale's facebroke into a smile of welcome. His father being indoors he went forwardwith hand outstretched.
"I am your cousin Harry," he said, and taking him by the arm he led himon the round of presentation.
"Mrs. Willoughby, may I present my cousin from Kentucky?"
"This is your cousin, Miss Katherine Dale; another cousin, Miss Mary;and this is your cousin Hugh."
And the young ladies greeted him with frank, eager interest, and theyoung gentlemen suddenly repressed patronizing smiles and gave him gravegreeting, for if ever a rapier flashed from a human head, it flashedfrom the piercing black eye of that little Kentucky backwoodsman whenhis cousin Hugh, with a rather whimsical smile, bowed with a politenessthat was a trifle too elaborate. Mrs. Willoughby still kept herlorgnettes on him as he stood leaning against a pillar. She noted thesmallness of his hands and feet, the lithe, perfect body, the clean cutof his face, and she breathed:
"He is a Dale--and blood _does_ tell."
Nobody, not even she, guessed how the lad's heart was thumping with theeffort to conceal his embarrassment, but when a tinge of color spread oneach side of his set mouth and his eyes began to waver uncertainly, Mrs.Willoughby's intuition was quick and kind.
"Barbara," she asked, "have you shown your cousin your ponies?"
The little girl saw her motive and laughed merrily:
"Why, I haven't had time to show him anything. Come on, cousin."
The boy followed her down the steps in his noiseless moccasins, along agrass path between hedges of ancient box, around an ell, and past thekitchen and toward the stables. In and behind the kitchen negroes of allages and both sexes were hurrying or lazing around, and each turned tostare wonderingly after the strange woodland figure of the littlehunter. Negroes were coming in from the fields with horses and mules,negroes were chopping and carrying wood, there were negroes everywhere,and the lad had never seen one before, but he showed no surprise. At agate the little girl called imperiously:
"Ephraim, bring out my ponies!"
And in a moment out came a sturdy little slave whose head was all blackskin, black wool, and white teeth, leading two creamy-white littlehorses that shook the lad's composure at last, for he knew ponies as farback as he could remember, but he had never seen the like of them. Hishand almost trembled when he ran it over their sleek coats, andunconsciously he dropped into his Indian speech and did not know ituntil the girl asked laughingly:
"Why, what are you saying to my ponies?"
And he blushed, for the little girl's artless prattling and friendlinesswere already beginning to make him quite human.
"That's Injun talk."
"Can you talk Indian--but, of course, you can."
"Better than English," he smiled.
Hugh had followed them.
"Barbara, your mother wants you," he said, and the little girl turnedtoward the house. The stranger was ill at ease with Hugh and the latterknew it.
"It must be very exciting where you live."
"How?"
"Oh, fighting Indians and shooting deer and turkeys and buffalo. It mustbe great fun."
"Nobody does it for fun--it's mighty hard work."
"My uncle--your father--used to tell us about his wonderful adventures outthere."
"He had no chance to tell me."
"But yours must have been more wonderful than his."
The boy gave the little grunt that was a survival of his Indian life andturned to go back to the house.
"But all this,
I suppose, is as strange to you."
"More."
Hugh was polite and apparently sincere in interest, but the lad wasvaguely disturbed and he quickened his step. The porch was empty whenthey turned the corner of the house, but young Harry Dale came runningdown the steps, his honest face alight, and caught the little Kentuckianby the arm.
"Get ready for supper, Hugh--come on, cousin," he said, and led thestranger to his room and pointed to the clothes on the bed.
"Don't they fit?" he asked smiling.
"I don't know--I don't know how to git into 'em."
Young Harry laughed joyously.
"Of course not. I wouldn't know how to put yours on either. You justwait," he cried, and disappeared to return quickly with an armful ofclothes.
"Take off your war-dress," he said, "and I'll show you."
With heart warming to such kindness, and helpless against it, the ladobeyed like a child and was dressed like a child.
"Now, I've got to hurry," said Harry. "I'll come back for you. Just lookat yourself," he called at the door.
And the stranger did look at the wonderful vision that a great mirror astall as himself gave back. His eyes began to sting, and he rubbed themwith the back of his hand and looked at the hand curiously. It wasmoist. He had seen tears in a woman's eyes, but he did not know thatthey could come to a man, and he felt ashamed.