CHAPTER XV.
BROTHER ABNER.
When Jack retired on this night he was far from feeling comfortable inmind.
Aunt Nancy had literally obliged him to cease speaking of the matter,and during the evening devotions prayed so fervently that she might beforgiven for acting a lie, it really distressed him.
She had done it solely for him, and he felt personally responsible forher mental trouble.
It caused the little woman great anxiety as he could well understandfrom the fact that she referred to the subject very frequently, andnever ceased to sue for pardon.
As has been said, Jack did not think the little woman did any greatwrong; but since she believed it, the case was as serious to her as if adeadly crime had been committed.
He remained awake a long while trying to decide what should be done, andmore than once was he tempted to run the risk of calling upon FarmerPratt to explain all the circumstances, in order to relieve Aunt Nancy'smind.
To do this would be, as he firmly thought, neither more nor less thanvoluntarily condemning himself to the poor farm; but Louis would be safefrom the ignominy, and he would be doing the little woman a very greatfavor.
He had decided upon nothing when sleep visited his eyelids, and on thefollowing morning there was so much to be done around the house he couldnot find any opportunity to study the subject.
Aunt Nancy believed it necessary to clean nearly every portion of thehouse, and as a matter of course he assisted.
Louis was really neglected on this day. Having been allowed to play onthe floor to his heart's content, neither his crooked guardian nor AuntNancy paid very much attention to him.
Not until late in the afternoon was the labor brought to a close, andthen the tired ones sought rest under the big oak.
Jack was about to broach the subject which occupied the greater portionof his thoughts, when the rumble of wheels at the end of the lane causedhim to look up in alarm.
"Who is that?" he asked excitedly, fearing lest it might be a messengerfrom Farmer Pratt.
"Only Deacon Downs. He sometimes stops on his way home from Treat'sstore to see if anything is needed. I buy a good many vegetables ofhim."
On this occasion the deacon had not called for any such purpose.
He reined in his horse near where Aunt Nancy was sitting, and, refusingher invitation to "get out and visit," unbuttoned his coat in adeliberate manner, saying slowly as he did so,--
"I found this 'ere for you down to Treat's, an' kinder 'lowed you'd bewantin' it."
Then fully a moment more was spent before the article referred to wasproduced, and, meanwhile, Aunt Nancy was in a mild state of excitementthrough curiosity.
"Something for me? What is it, Deacon?"
"Wait till I find the pesky thing. I put it in this pocket so thereshouldn't be any chance of losin' it, an' now I wouldn't be surprised ifit had slipped out."
Aunt Nancy came close to the wagon watching the old gentleman's everymovement, her face expressing the liveliest impatience; but the visitordid not gratify her curiosity until having found that for which hesought.
"Here it is," he said, as he handed her a letter, "an' seein's how it'sstamped Binghamton, I wouldn't be surprised if it was from Abner, for Idon't reckon you know anybody but him in York State, Nancy?"
"Of course it's from Abner, and you gave me almost a shock, Deacon, forI couldn't imagine what you had found of mine."
"I don't allow there's any bad news, eh?" and the visitor waited as ifexpecting Aunt Nancy would open the letter at once.
"It's only in regard to some business, Deacon," the little woman repliedin a tone which told she did not intend to read the missive until sheshould be alone.
"I don't reckon he's thinkin' of comin' here this summer?"
"Dear me, no. Abner's getting too old to go gallivantin' 'round thecountry very much, an' it's a powerful long journey from here to YorkState."
"You're right, Nancy; but you know Abner allers was a master hand attravellin'."
Then the deacon, despairing of getting a glimpse of the letter, urgedthe aged horse into a slow trot, and the occupants of the Curtis farmwere alone once more.
"The deacon is a real obliging neighbor," Aunt Nancy said as the rumbleof wheels died away in the distance, "but terribly inquisitive. Hethought I would read Abner's letter so he'd know what was going on, andperhaps I might have done so if it hadn't been concerning your business,which should be kept to ourselves."
"Do you s'pose he has found out anything about Louis's father?" Jackasked, eager to learn the contents of the letter, but not feeling atliberty to hurry the little woman.
"I don't think there is any doubt about it"; and Aunt Nancy tore openthe envelope with a slowness and deliberation which was almostprovoking.
During the next five minutes Jack waited impatiently to hear "brotherAbner's" reply; but nothing was said until the letter had been readcarefully twice over, and then Aunt Nancy exclaimed as she took off herspectacles,--
"Well, I declare!"
"Does he know the captain?"
"He's never heard of him! It's so surprising when I think of how manypeople he used to be acquainted with when he lived here."
"What does he say about it?"
"Nothing of any consequence, and writes as if he was provoked because Iasked the question. Wants to know how I suppose he can find a man whowas exploded in a vessel at sea; and I can't say but there isconsiderable good sense in his asking that, for of course when the shipblowed to pieces that settled the whole thing."
"But the captain might have been saved, and, besides, while we were insight the 'Atlanta' looked whole and sound as before the explosion."
"But if she didn't go to pieces why hasn't the captain come after hisson?"
This was a question which Jack could not answer, and had to remainsilent.
"According to Abner's story, he don't know many of the York State folksexcept them as lives in Binghamton. Perhaps he's settling down, andisn't as newsy as when he was with me."
"If he can't help us, what are Louis an' I to do?"
"Stay here, of course."
"But, Aunt Nancy, I must try to find Louis's relations, even if hisfather and mother are dead."
"I reckon you're bound to do that somehow; but there's no sense intrying to walk to New York while the weather is so hot."
Then the little woman, as if believing the matter had been finallysettled, began to speak of the subject which was very near her heart,and for at least the hundredth time Jack was forced to listen to herlamentations because of the equivocation when Farmer Pratt called.
It was particularly hard for him to remain quiet during herself-accusations, for now that it was useless to expect "brother Abner"could do anything in the way of learning the details concerning the fateof the good ship "Atlanta," it seemed in the highest degree important todecide upon some course of action.
He was well content to stay where he was a certain time; but it seemedas if he should have at least some idea of what was to be done in thefuture.
Aunt Nancy did not give him an opportunity to discuss the matter,however, and when the hour came to search the house for supposedburglars he was in a fine state of perplexity.
On the following morning it seemed as if the little woman had dismissedall such thoughts from her mind, for whenever she spoke to Jack it wasupon anything rather than how he might best accomplish that which hebelieved to be his duty.
He noticed she was particularly tender toward Louis, and gave him anunusual amount of attention when she thought he and she were alone.
It was on this day Mrs. Souders called, and during fully half an hourwas closeted with Aunt Nancy, after which she met Jack in the yard whenher greeting was more than cordial, but never a word was spoken inreference to the incidents of the day she allowed anger to overcomejudgment.
Since Jack had not expected anything in the way of an apology, he wasagreeably surprised by the change in her manner toward him, and fel
tthat ample reparation had been made.
What the lady may have said to Aunt Nancy will never be known, for thelittle woman maintained the most perfect secrecy regarding it, despitethe fact that Jack questioned her as closely as he dared.
It was on the evening of this day when they were sitting under the oldoak, and Louis was playing in front of them, that Bill Dean walkedboldly into the yard, accosting Aunt Nancy as if he and she were on themost friendly terms.
Jack was so thoroughly surprised that he experienced the sensation ofone who has suddenly been plunged into cold water, for the assurance ofthe boy was more than he could understand until Master Dean handed AuntNancy a printed circular, as he said,--
"I've been hired to carry these around, an' I know you allers go to campmeetin', so I stopped here first. I s'pose you think I'm kinder tough;but them as come here lookin' for jobs without wantin' to work ain't sogood as you believe they are."
"I don't intend to argue with you, William; but you know very well Ihave good reason to feel harsh toward you."
"Why, what have I done?" and Bill looked as innocent as a lamb.
"It would be better if you asked what you haven't done," and the littlewoman spoke in the most severe tone. "In the first place you drove awaya well-disposed boy last summer, and are now trying to do the same bypoor little crippled Jack."
"I don't see how you can say sich a thing, Aunt Nancy"; and Bill assumedan injured expression.
"Didn't you mix up the harness when the circle met here, and didn't youtry to drown the baby?"
"Me drown a baby?" Bill cried in a horrified tone.
"Yes, it was you and your friends who carried him to the duck pond andset him adrift on a raft."
"Now, Aunt Nancy, it ain't right to talk agin me in this way"; and astranger would have said that Bill was on the point of crying.
"Why, William Dean, I saw you running away!"
"I ain't sayin' you didn't; but that's nothin' to do with the baby. WhenI came across the field he was at the pond, an' I didn't know what hemight do to my raft. Before I got up to him he was sailin' like allpossessed, an' when you came I run away for fear you'd want me to wadein after him."
Aunt Nancy's eyes opened wide in astonishment at this marvellous story,and while she felt convinced it was false, she would not accuse him oftelling a lie without having something in the way of evidence againsthim.
"At least I know you fought with Jack because he wouldn't promise to goaway," she said after quite a long pause.
Louis's guardian tried to prevent this last remark by a look, but wasunsuccessful, and Bill replied boldly,--
"There ain't any use sayin' I didn't, 'cause it's true; but us fellersonly was doin' what we had a right."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Why, we've got a license from the s'lectmen to do all the chores 'roundthis neighborhood, an' had to pay a mighty big price for it. Do yous'pose we'll let any other fellers come in an' take the bread an' butterouter our mouths after we've scraped the cash together to pay the towntax for that kind of business?"
This statement was rather more than even Aunt Nancy could credit, andshe said quite sharply,--
"William Dean, I won't have you standing there telling such wrongstories! You must think I'm a natural born idiot to listen."
"It's the truth all the same, and if Hunchie don't clear out he won'tget along very easy. Good by, Aunt Nancy, I s'pose I'll see you at campmeetin', for all the old maids will be there."
Bill did not linger in the lane after this last remark, but went quicklyout into the highway, leaving the little woman literally gasping withsurprise and indignation.
"It's no disgrace to be an old maid," she said when it was once morepossible for her to speak; "but I won't have an impudent boy likeWilliam Dean throwing it in my face as if it was something to beashamed about."
"I wouldn't pay any 'tention to him," Jack replied consolingly. "You'renicer than any woman _I_ ever saw, an' he'd be only too glad if you wasas much of a friend to him as you are to me."
Aunt Nancy leaned over and kissed the little cripple on the forehead asshe said in a low tone,--
"You are a good boy, Jack dear, and would be a great comfort to me if wewere never to part until the good God calls me home."