Chapter Seventh.
"I feel my sinews slacken'd with the fright, And a cold sweat thrills down all o'er my limbs, As if I were dissolving into water." --DRYDEN'S TEMPEST.
THE Lightcaps were at supper; father and eldest son, each of whom stoodsix feet in his stockings, with shirt sleeves rolled up above theirelbows, displaying brown sinewy arms; the mother in a faded calico,grizzled hair drawn straight back from a dull, careworn face andgathered into a little knot behind in which was stuck a yellow horncomb; years of incessant toil and frequent exposure to sun and wind hadnot improved a naturally dark, rough skin, and there was no attempt atadornment in her attire, not a collar or a ruffle to cover up theunsightliness of the yellow, wrinkled neck.
Rhoda Jane, the eldest daughter, seated at her father's right hand, wasa fac-simile of what the mother had been in her girlhood, with perhapsan added touch of intelligence and a somewhat more bold and forwardmanner.
There were besides several younger children of both sexes, quiteordinary looking creatures and just now wholly taken up with thebusiness in hand;--vieing with each other in the amount of bread andbutter and molasses, fried potatoes and fried pork they could devour ina given space of time.
"Some new comers in town, mother," remarked Mr. Lightcap, helpinghimself to a second slice of pork. "The keelboat Mary Ann come up theriver with a lot of travellers."
"Who, father? somebody that's going to stay?"
"Yes; that lawyer we heerd was comin', you know. What's his name?"
"Keith," said Rhoda Jane, "I heerd Miss Prior tell Damaris Drybread lastSunday after meetin'. And so they've come, hev they?"
"Yes; I had occasion to go up street a bit ago, and saw George Wardtakin' 'em to the Union Hotel; the man hisself and two or three wimminfolks and a lot of young uns."
"Damaris was wishing there'd be some children;" remarked Rhoda Jane,"she wants more scholars."
"It don't foller they'd go to her if there was," put in her brother.
"Oh now you just shut up, Goto! you never did take no stock in Damaris."
"No, nor you neither, Rhoda Jane; 'cept once in a while just furcontrariness. No, I don't take no shine to Miss Drybread; she's aunmitigated old maid."
"I wish the man had been a doctor and good on curin' the agur," saidMrs. Lightcap, replenishing her husband's cap. "What's up now, RhodaJane?" as that damsel suddenly pushed back her chair, sprang up, andrushed through the adjoining room to the front door.
"A wagon goin' by filled full of great boxes o' goods," shouted back thegirl. "There they're stoppin' at the yaller house on the corner. Comeand look."
The whole family, dropping knives and forks, the children with hands andmouths full, ran pell mell to door and windows to enjoy the sight.
"I wonder what's up, father? are we goin' to have a new store overthere, think?" queried Mrs. Lightcap, standing on the outer step withher hands on her hips, her gaze turned steadily in the direction of thecorner house.
"Dunno, mother; b'lieve I'll jest step over and ask. Come along Goto, Iguess they'd like some help with them thar big boxes."
They were kind-hearted, neighborly folk--those early settlers ofPleasant Plains, always ready to lend a helping hand wherever it wasneeded.
"It's the new lawyer feller's traps," announced Mr. Lightcap, as he andhis son rejoined the waiting, expectant wife and children; "he's tookthe house and we'll have 'em for neighbors."
There was another rush to the door, half an hour later, when the Keithswere seen passing on their way to inspect their future abode.
"The prettiest gal I ever see," remarked Gotobed, gazing admiringlyafter Mildred's graceful, girlish figure.
"They look like eastern folks," said his mother. "Won't they wish they'dstaid where they was when they find out how hard 'tis to get help here?"
"Real stuck up folks; dressed to kill," sneered Rhoda Jane. "Look at thewhite pantalets on them young uns! and the girl's got a veil on herbunnit."
"Well, what's the harm?" asked her brother. "If you had as pretty askin, I guess you'd be for takin' care of it too."
"Humph! beauty that's only skin deep won't last," and with a toss of thehead Miss Lightcap walked into the house in her most dignified style.
For the next ten days the doings at the corner house and the comings andgoings of the Keiths were a source of entertainment and intense interestto their neighbors--the Lightcaps and others; a fact not to be wonderedat when we consider the monotony of life in the town at that time;--norailroad, no telegraph, no newspaper, except those brought by the weeklymail; no magazines, no public library, and very few books in privatehouses.
Really the daily small occurrences in their own little world were prettynearly all the Pleasant Plainers could find to talk or think about.
And the Keiths, as recent arrivals from an older settled part of thecountry, and above many of them in the social scale, were consideredworthy of more than ordinary attention. Their dress, their manners, thefurnishing of their house and their style of living were subjects ofeager discussion.
The general opinion among the Lightcaps and their set seemed to be thatthey were too fine for the place; such remarks as the following beingfrequently heard,
"Why would you believe it, they've got a real store carpet on that frontroom, and a sofy and cheers covered with horse-hair cloth and whitecurtains to the winders and picturs hanging up on to the walls."
"And the little girls wears white pantalets caliker ones such as ouryoungsters wears isn't good enough for them."
There were in the town, however, a number of families of educated,refined people who rejoiced in this addition to their society and onlywaited for the new comers to get settled in their new home beforecalling.
Among these Mrs. Keith and her aunt found several pleasant, congenialcompanions; and with two or three the acquaintance soon ripened into aclose intimacy, a warm, enduring friendship.
Mildred also soon had more than one young girl crony whom she found asworthy of regard as those she had left behind.
Back of the yellow house was a grove of saplings which became a favoritehaunt of the children in their hours of recreation. They would bend downthe smaller trees and ride them, climb up into the larger and sit amongthe branches; or build baby-houses and play housekeeping underneath,where the shade was thickest.
It was here they spent the warm, sunny days while the older members ofthe family busied themselves in making the dwelling habitable and theyard neat and orderly.
On the morning after their arrival Rupert spread a buffalo robe on theground in the shadiest part of the grove, whereon Zillah and Ada seatedthemselves with their baby sister who had been entrusted to their care.
There were many lovely wild flowers springing up here and there, andCyril, Don and Fan ran hither and thither gathering them, prattlingmerrily to each other the while, and now and then uttering a joyousshout as they came upon some new floral treasure.
"Be careful not to go too far away, children," Zillah called to them.
"No, we won't go far," they answered, Cyril adding, "And I'll take careof Fan."
In a little while they came running back with full hands.
"See, see!" they said, "so many and such pretty ones--blue, and white,and purple, and yellow. There, you take these and we'll pick some morefor ourselves. And for mother and Aunt Wealthy; we'll make a big bunchfor each of them," and away they ran again.
"Oh, aren't they pretty?" cried Ada. "Let's make a bouquet for motherout of these."
"She won't want two," said Zillah, "'specially just now when she's noplace to put them. Let's make wreaths for Annis and Fan."
"Oh yes!" and they began sorting the flowers with eager interest, littleAnnis pulling at them too, crowing and chattering in sweet baby fashion.
Suddenly Zillah gave a start and laid a trembling hand on Ada's arm. Herface had grown very pale and there was a look of terror in her largeblue eyes.
Ada turned quickly to see
what had caused it, and was quite as muchalarmed on beholding a tall Indian, with rifle in hand, tomahawk andscalping knife in his belt, standing within a few feet of them,evidently regarding them with curiosity.
He wore moccasins and leggins, and had a blanket about his shoulders;feathers on his head, too; but no war paint on his face.
Behind him was a squaw with a great bark basket full of wild berries,slung to her back.
The little girls were too terribly frightened to cry out or speak, theysat there as if turned to stone, while the Indian drew nearer andnearer still closely followed by his squaw.
Stopping close beside the children, he grunted out a word or two to her,and she slung her basket to the ground.
Taking up a double handful of the berries, he poured them into Zillah'slap, saying, "Pappoose!"
The squaw restored her basket to its place and the two walked leisurelyaway; happily not in the direction of Fan and the boys.
The little girls gazed at each other in blank astonishment; then burstout simultaneously, "Oh, weren't you frightened? I thought he was goingto kill us!"
"But wasn't it good in him to give us the berries?"
"Yes; he meant them for baby; but mother doesn't let her have any, youknow; so we mustn't give them to her."
"No, but I'll call the children to get some.'
"Yes, do."
"Where did you get em?" queried Cyril, devouring his share with zest.
"An Indian gave them to us."
"An Indian? why that was like a friend and colation! I shan't be 'fraidof 'em any more."
"I don't know," returned Ada with a wise shake of her head, "I'd rathernot see 'em even with their berries."
The little feast was just ended when they espied a gentleman passingalong the road beyond the grove. He turned and came toward them.
"Good-morning," he said, pleasantly. "These are Mr. Keith's children, Ibelieve?"
"Yes, sir," answered Zillah.
"I'm glad to see you," shaking hands with them; "and I should like tomake the acquaintance of your parents. Are they at home, in the houseyonder?"
"Mother is, sir; but I saw father go away a little while ago."
"Do you think your mother could see me for a moment? My name is Lord."
Cyril opened his eyes very wide; gazing up into the gentleman's facewith an odd expression of mingled curiosity and astonishment.
"I don't know, sir;" answered Zillah, "they're just cleaning the houseand--Cyril, run and ask mother."
Away flew the child, rushing into the room where Miss Stanhope and Mrs.Keith were overseeing the opening of boxes and the unpacking of thehousehold gear.
"Mother, mother," he cried breathlessly, "the Lord's out yonder and hewants to see you! Can he come in? shall I bring him?"
"The Lord! what can the child mean?" cried Aunt Wealthy, in herastonishment and perplexity nearly dropping a large china bowl which sheheld in her hand.
Mrs. Keith, too, looked bewildered for a moment, then a sudden lightbreaking over her face,
"Yes, bring him in," she said, and turning to her aunt as the child spedon his errand, "It must be the minister, auntie; I remember now thatStuart told me his name was Lord."
Mr. Lord, who was a very absent-minded man, came in apologizing for his"neglect in not calling sooner; he had been engaged with his sermon andthe matter had slipped his mind."
"I think you are blaming yourself undeservedly, sir," Mrs. Keith said,giving him her hand with a cordial smile, "we arrived in town onlyyesterday. Let me introduce you to my aunt, Miss Stanhope."
The two shook hands, and Mr. Lord seating himself upon a box, instead ofthe chair that had been set for him, sprang up instantly with a hurriedexclamation.
A portion of the contents of a paper of tacks had been accidentallyspilt there.
The ladies were too polite to smile. Mrs. Keith offered the chair again,simply saying, "You will find this a more comfortable seat; pleaseexcuse the disorder we are in;" then plunged into talk about the townand the little church he had recently organized there.