Books: Nature\'s Serial Story

E >> E. P. Roe >> Nature\'s Serial Story

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34

On such an evening the young people from the Cliffords' had gathered on
Mr. Hargrove's piazza, and Amy and Gertrude were looking at the new moon
with silver in their pockets, each making her silent wish. What were
those wishes? Amy had to think before deciding what she wanted most, but
not Miss Hargrove. Her face has grown thinner and paler during the last
few weeks; there is unwonted brilliancy in her eyes to-night, but her
expression is resolute. Her wish and her hope were at variance. Times of
weakness, if such they could be called, would come, but they should not
appear in Burt's or Amy's presence.

The former had just returned, apparently gayer than ever. His face was
bronzed from his out-door life in the Adirondacks. Its expression was
also resolute, and his eyes turned oftenest toward Amy, with a determined
loyalty. As has been said, not long after the experiences following the
storm, he had yielded to his impulse to go away and recover his poise. He
felt that if he continued to see Miss Hargrove frequently he might reveal
a weakness which would lead not only Amy to despise him, but also Miss
Hargrove, should she become aware of the past. As he often took such
outings, the family, with the exception of Webb and Amy, thought nothing
of it. His brother and the girl he had wooed so passionately now
understood him well enough to surmise his motive, and Amy had thought,
"It will do him good to go away and think awhile, but it will make no
difference; this new affair must run its course also." And yet her heart
began to relent toward him after a sisterly fashion. She wondered if Miss
Hargrove did regard him as other than a friend to whom she owed very
much. If so, she smiled at the idea of standing in the way of their
mutual happiness. She had endured his absence with exceeding tranquillity,
for Webb had given her far more of his society, and she, Alf, and Johnnie
often went out and aided him in gathering the fruit. For some reason these
light tasks had been more replete with quiet enjoyment than deliberate
pleasure-seeking.

Burt had been at pains to take, in Amy's presence, a most genial and
friendly leave of Miss Hargrove, but there was no trace of the lover in
his manner. His smiles and cordial words had chilled her heart, and had
strengthened the fear that in some way he was bound to Amy. She knew that
she had fascinated and perhaps touched him deeply, but imagined she saw
indications of an allegiance that gave little hope for the future. If he
felt as she did, and were free, he would not have gone away; and when he
had gone, time grew leaden-footed. Absence is the touchstone, and by its
test she knew that her father was right, and that she, to whom so much
love had been given unrequited, had bestowed hers apparently in like
manner. Then had come an invitation to join a yachting party to Fortress
Monroe, and she had eagerly accepted. With the half-reckless impulse of
pride, she had resolved to throw away the dream that had promised so
much, and yet had ended in such bitter and barren reality. She would
forget it all in one brief whirl of gayety; and she had been the
brilliant life of the party. But how often her laugh had ended in a
stifled sigh! How often her heart told her, "This is not happiness, and
never can be again!" Her brief experience of what is deep and genuine in
life taught her that she had outgrown certain pleasures of the past, as a
child outgrows its toys, and she had returned thoroughly convinced that
her remedy was not in the dissipations of society.

The evening after her return Burt, with Webb and Amy, had come to call,
and as she looked upon him again she asked herself, in sadness, "Is there
any remedy?" She was not one to give her heart in a half-way manner.

It seemed to her that he had been absent for years, and had grown
indefinitely remote. Never before had she gained the impression so
strongly that he was in some way bound to Amy, and would abide by his
choice. If this were true, she felt that the sooner she left the vicinity
the better, and even while she chatted lightly and genially she was
planning to induce her father to return to the city at an early date.
Before parting, Amy spoke of her pleasure at the return of her friend,
who, she said, had been greatly missed, adding: "Now we shall make up for
lost time. The roads are in fine condition for horseback exercise,
nutting expeditions will soon be in order, and we have a bee-hunt on the
programme."

"I congratulate you on your prospects," said Miss Hargrove. "I wish I
could share in all your fun, but fear I shall soon return to the city."

Burt felt a sudden chill at these words, and a shadow from them fell
across his face. Webb saw their effect, and he at once entered on a
rather new role for him. "Then we must make the most of the time before
you go," he began. "I propose we take advantage of this weather and drive
over to West Point, and lunch at Fort Putnam."

"Why, Webb, what a burst of genius!" Amy exclaimed. "Nothing could be
more delightful. Let us go to-morrow for we can't count on such weather
long."

Miss Hargrove hesitated. The temptation was indeed strong, but she felt
it would not be wise to yield, and began, hesitatingly, "I fear my
engagements--" At this moment she caught a glimpse of Burt's face in a
mirror, and saw the look of disappointment which he could not disguise.
"If I return to the city soon," she resumed, "I ought to be at my
preparations."

"Why, Gertrude," said Amy, "I almost feel as if you did not wish to go.
Can't you spare one day? I thought you were to remain in the country till
November. I have been planning so much that we could do together!"

"Surely, Miss Hargrove," added Burt, with a slight tremor in his voice,
"you cannot nip Webb's genius in the very bud. Such an expedition as he
proposes is an inspiration."

"But you can do without me," she replied, smiling on him bewilderingly.

It was a light arrow, but its aim was true. Never before had he so felt
the power of her beauty, the almost irresistible spell of her fascination.
While her lips were smiling, there was an expression in her dark eyes that
made her words, so simple and natural in themselves, a searching question,
and he could not forbear saying, earnestly, "We should all enjoy the
excursion far more if you went with us."

"Truly, Miss Hargrove," said Webb, "I shall be quenched if you decline,
and feel that I have none of the talent for which I was beginning to gain
a little credit."

"I cannot resist such an appeal as that, Mr. Clifford," she said,
laughingly.

"This is perfectly splendid!" cried Amy. "I anticipate a marvellous day
to-morrow. Bring Fred also, and let us all vie with each other in
encouraging Webb."

"Has that quiet Webb any scheme in his mind?" Miss Hargrove thought,
after they had gone. "I wish that tomorrow might indeed be 'a marvellous
day' for us all."

"_Can_ I do without her?" was poor Burt's query. An affirmative
answer was slow in coming, though he thought long and late.

CHAPTER LI

WEBB'S FATEFUL EXPEDITION

Mr. Hargrove had welcomed the invitation that took his daughter among
some of her former companions, hoping that a return to brilliant
fashionable life would prove to her that she could not give it up. It was
his wish that she should marry a wealthy man of the city. His wife did
not dream of any other future for her handsome child, and she looked
forward with no little complacency to the ordering of a new and elegant
establishment.

At the dinner-table Gertrude had given a vivacious account of her
yachting experience, and all had appeared to promise well; but when she
went to the library to kiss her father good-night, he looked at her
inquiringly, and said, "You enjoyed every moment, I suppose?"

She shook her head sadly, and, after a moment, said: "I fear I've grown
rather tired of that kind of thing. We made much effort to enjoy
ourselves. Is there not a happiness which comes without so much effort?"

"I'm sorry," he said, simply.

"Perhaps you need not be. Suppose I find more pleasure in staying with
you than in rushing around?"

"That would not last. That is contrary to nature."

"I think it would be less contrary to _my_ nature than forced gayety
among people I care nothing about."

He smiled at her fondly, but admitted to himself that absence had
confirmed the impressions of the summer, instead of dissipating them, and
that if Burt became her suitor he would be accepted.

When she looked out on the morning of the excursion to Fort Putnam it was
so radiant with light and beauty that hope sprang up within her heart.
Disappointment that might last through life could not come on a day like
this. Silvery mists ascended from the river down among the Highlands. The
lawn and many of the fields were as green as they had been in June, and
on every side were trees like immense bouquets, so rich and varied was
their coloring. There was a dewy freshness in the air, a genial warmth in
the sunshine, a spring-like blue in the sky; and in these was no
suggestion that the November of her life was near. "And yet it may be,"
she thought. "I must soon face my fate, and I must be true to Amy."

Mrs. Hargrove regarded with discontent the prospect of another long
mountain expedition; but Fred, her idol, was wild for it, and in a day or
two he must return to school in the city, from which, at his earnest
plea, he had been absent too long already; so she smiled her farewell at
last upon the fateful excursion.

He, with his sister, was soon at the Cliffords', and found the
rockaway--the strong old carryall with which Gertrude already had tender
associations--in readiness. Maggie had agreed to chaperon the party,
little Ned having been easily bribed to remain with his father.

Miss Hargrove had looked wistfully at the Clifford mansion as she drew
near to it. Never had it appeared to her more home-like, with its
embowering trees and laden orchards. The bright hues of the foliage
suggested the hopes that centred there: the ocean, as she had seen
it--cold and gray under a clouded sky--was emblematic of life with no
fulfilment of those hopes. And when Mr. Clifford met her at the door, and
took her in to see the invalid, who greeted her almost as affectionately
as she would have welcomed Amy after absence, Miss Hargrove knew in the
depths of her heart how easily she could be at home there.

Never did a pleasure-party start under brighter auspices. Even Mrs.
Clifford came out, on her husband's arm, to wave them a farewell.

The young men had their alpenstocks, for it was their intention to walk
up the steep places. Webb was about to take Alf and Johnnie on the front
seat with him, when Amy exclaimed: "I'm going to drive, Mr. Webb. Johnnie
can sit between us, and keep me company when you are walking. You needn't
think that because you are the brilliant author of this expedition you
are going to have everything your own way."

Indeed, not a little guile lurked behind her laughing eyes, which ever
kept Webb in perplexity--though he looked into them so often--as to
whether they were blue or gray. Miss Hargrove demurely took her seat with
Maggie, and Burt had the two boys with him. Fred had brought his gun, and
was vigilant for game now that the "law was up."

They soon reached the foot of the mountain, and there was a general
unloading, for at first every one wished to walk. Maggie good-naturedly
climbed around to the front seat and took the reins, remarking that she
would soon have plenty of company again.

Burt had not recognized Amy's tactics, nor did he at once second them,
even unconsciously. His long ruminations had led to the only possible
conclusion--the words he had spoken must be made good. Pride and honor
permitted no other course. Therefore he proposed to-day to be ubiquitous,
and as gallant to Maggie as to the younger ladies. When Miss Hargrove
returned to the city he would quietly prove his loyalty. Never before had
he appeared in such spirits; never so inexorably resolute. He recalled
Amy's incredulous laugh at his protestation of constancy, and felt that
he could never look her in the face if he faltered. It was known that
Miss Hargrove had received much attention, and her interest in him would
be likely to disappear at once should she learn of his declaration of
undying devotion to another but a few months before. He anathematized
himself, but determined that his weakness should remain unknown. It was
evident that Amy had been a little jealous, but probably that she did not
yet care enough for him to be very sensitive on the subject. This made no
difference, however. He had pledged himself to wait until she did care.
Therefore he sedulously maintained his mask. Miss Hargrove should be made
to believe that she had added much to the pleasure of the excursion, and
there he would stop. And Burt on his mettle was no bungler. The test
would come in his staying powers.

Webb, however, was quietly serene. He had not watched and thought so long
in vain. He had seen Burt's expression the evening before, and knew that
a wakeful night had followed. His own feeling had taught him a
clairvoyance which enabled him to divine not a little of what was passing
in his brother's mind and that of Miss Hargrove. Amy troubled him more
than they. Her frank, sisterly affection was not love, and might never
become love.

One of the objects of the expedition was to obtain an abundant supply of
autumn leaves and ferns for pressing. "I intend to make the old house
look like a bower this winter," Amy remarked.

"That would be impossible with our city home," Miss Hargrove said, "and
mamma would not hear of such an attempt. But I can do as I please in my
own room, and shall gather my country _souvenirs_ to-day."

The idea of decorating her apartment with feathery ferns and bright-hued
leaves took a strong hold upon her fancy, for she hoped that Burt would
aid her in making the collection. Nor was she disappointed, for Amy said:

"Burt, I have gathered and pressed nearly all the ferns I need already.
You know the shady nooks where the most delicate ones grow, and you can
help Gertrude make as good a collection as mine. You'll help too, won't
you, Webb?" added the innocent little schemer, who saw that Burt was
looking at her rather keenly.

So they wound up the mountain, making long stops here and there to gather
sylvan trophies and to note the fine views. Amy's manner was so cordial
and natural that Burt's suspicions had been allayed, and the young
fellow, who could do nothing by halves, was soon deeply absorbed in
making a superb collection for Miss Hargrove, and she felt that, whatever
happened, she was being enriched by everything he obtained for her. Amy
had brought a great many newspapers folded together so that leaves could
be placed between the pages, and Webb soon noted that his offerings were
kept separate from those of Burt. The latter tried to be impartial in his
labors in behalf of the two girls, bringing Amy bright-hued leaves
instead of ferns, but did not wholly succeed, and sometimes he found
himself alone with Miss Hargrove as they pursued their search a short
distance on some diverging and shaded path. On one of these occasions he
said, "I like to think how beautiful you will make your room this
winter."

"I like to think of it too," she replied. "I shall feel that I have a
part of my pleasant summer always present."

"Has it been a pleasant summer?"

"Yes, the pleasantest I ever enjoyed."

"I should think you would find it exceedingly dull after such brilliant
experiences as that of your yachting excursion."

"Do you find to-day exceedingly dull?"

"But I am used to the quiet country, and a day like this is the
exception."

"I do not imagine you have ever lived a tame life."

"Isn't that about the same as calling me wild?"

"There's no harm in beginning a little in that way. Time sobers one fast
enough."

"You are so favored that I can scarcely imagine life bringing sobering
experiences to you very soon."

"Indeed? Have you forgotten what occurred on these very mountains, at no
great distance? I assure you I never forget it;" and her eyes were
eloquent as she turned them upon him.

"One does not forget the most fortunate event of one's life. Since you
were to meet that danger, I would not have missed being near for the
world. I had even a narrower escape, as you know, on this mountain. The
spot where Webb found me is scarcely more than a mile away."

She looked at him very wistfully, and her face grew pale, but she only
said, "I don't think either of us can forget the Highlands."

"I shall never forget that little path," he said, in a low tone, and he
looked back at it lingeringly as they came out into the road and
approached the rest of the party.

"Have you lost anything, Burt?" cried Amy, laughing.

"No, but I've found something. See this superb bunch of maiden hair. That
spot should be marked for future supplies. Miss Hargrove will share with
you, for you can't have anything so fine as this."

"Yes, indeed I have, and I shall call you and Webb to account if you do
not to-day make Gertrude fare as well."

Both Miss Hargrove and Burt were bewildered. There was lurking mischief
in Amy's eyes when she first spoke, and yet she used her influence to
keep Burt in her friend's society. Her spirits seemed too exuberant to be
natural, and Miss Hargrove, who was an adept at hiding her feelings under
a mask of gayety, surmised that Amy's feminine instincts had taught her
to employ the same tactics. Conscious of their secret, Miss Hargrove and
Burt both thought, "Perhaps it is her purpose to throw us together as far
as possible, and learn the truth."

Amy had a kinder purpose than they imagined. She wanted no more of Burt's
forced allegiance, and was much too good-natured to permit mere pique to
cause unhappiness to others. "Let Gertrude win him if she cares for him,"
was her thought, "and if _she_ can't hold him his case is
_hopeless_." She could not resist the temptation, however, to tease
Burt a little.

But he gave her slight chance for the next few hours. Her mirthful
question and the glance accompanying it had put him on his guard again,
and he at once became the gay cavalier-general he had resolved on being
throughout the day.

They made a long pause to enjoy the view looking out upon Constitution
Island, West Point, the southern mountains, and the winding river, dotted
here and there with sails, and with steamers, seemingly held motionless
by their widely separated train of canal boats.

"What mountain is this that we are now to descend?" Miss Hargrove asked.

"Cro' Nest," Burt replied. "It's the first high mountain that abuts on
the river above West Point, you will remember."

"Oh, yes, I remember. I have a song relating to it, and will give you a
verse;" and she sang:

"'Where Hudson's waves o'er silvery sands
Wind through the hills afar,
And Cro' Nest like a monarch stands,
Crowned with a single star.'"

After a round of applause had subsided, Burt, whose eyes had been more
demonstrative than his hands, said, "That's by Morris. We can see from
Fort Putnam his old home under Mount Taurus."

"I know. He is the poet who entreated the woodman to 'spare that tree.'"

"Which the woodman will never do," Webb remarked, "unless compelled by
law; nor even then, I fear."

"Oh, Webb!" cried Amy, "with what a thump you drop into prose!"

"I also advise an immediate descent of the mountain if we are to have any
time at Fort Putnam," he added. "I'll walk on."

They were soon winding down the S's by which the road overcame the steep
declivity. On reaching a plateau, before the final descent, they came
across a wretched hovel, gray and storm-beaten, with scarcely strength to
stand. Rags took the place of broken glass in the windows. A pig was
rooting near the doorstep, on which stood a slatternly woman, regarding
the party with dull curiosity.

"Talk about the elevating influence of mountain scenery," said Miss
Hargrove; "there's a commentary on the theory."

"The theory's correct," persisted Burt. "Their height above tide-water
and the amount of bad whiskey they consume keep our mountaineers elevated
most of the time."

"Does Lumley live in a place like that?" Miss Hargrove asked.

"He did--in a worse one, if possible," Webb replied for Amy, who
hesitated. "But you should see how it is changed. He now has a good
vegetable garden fenced in, a rustic porch covered with American ivy,
and--would you believe it?--an actual flower-bed. Within the hut there
are two pictures on the wall, and the baby creeps on a carpeted floor.
Lumley says Amy is making a man of him."

"You forget to mention how much you have helped me," Amy added.

"Come, let us break up this mutual admiration society," said Burt. "I'm
ready for lunch already, and Fort Putnam is miles away."

The road from the foot of the mountain descends gradually through wild,
beautiful scenery to West Point. Cro' Nest rises abruptly on the left,
and there is a wooded valley on the right, with mountains beyond. The
trees overhung the road with a canopy of gold, emerald, and crimson
foliage, and the sunlight came to the excursionists as through
stained-glass windows. Taking a side street at the back of the military
post, they soon reached a point over which frowned the ruins of the fort,
and here they left their horses. After a brief climb to the northward
they entered on an old road, grass-grown and leaf-carpeted, and soon
passed through the gaping sally-port, on either side of which cone-like
cedars stood as sentinels. Within the fort Nature had been busy for a
century softening and obliterating the work of man. Cedar trees--some of
which were dying from age--grew everywhere, even on the crumbling
ramparts. Except where ledges of the native rock cropped out, the ground
was covered with a thick sward. Near the centre of the inclosure is the
rocky basin. In it bubbles the spring at which the more temperate of the
ancient garrison may have softened the asperities of their New England
rum.

The most extensive ruins are seen by turning sharply to the left from the
sally-port. Here, yawning like caverns, their entrances partially choked
by the debris, are six casemates, or vaults. They were built of brick,
covered with stone, and are eighteen feet deep and twelve wide, with an
arched roof twelve feet high. On the level rampart above them were long,
withered grass, the wild dwarf-rose, and waving golden-rod. The outer
walls, massy and crumbling, or half torn away by vandal hands, were built
in angles, according to the engineering science of the Revolution, except
on the west, where the high ramparts surmount a mural perpendicular
precipice fifty feet in height. Inland, across the valley, the mountains
were seen, rising like rounded billows in every direction, while from the
north, east, and south the windings of the Hudson were visible for
fifteen miles.

All but Amy had visited the spot before, and Burt explored the place with
her while the rest prepared for lunch. She had asked Gertrude to
accompany them, but the latter had sought refuge with Maggie, and at her
side she proposed to remain. She scarcely dared trust herself with Burt,
and as the day advanced he certainly permitted his eyes to express an
interest that promised ill for his inexorable purpose of constancy.

It had become clear to Miss Hargrove that he was restrained by something
that had occurred between him and Amy, and both her pride and her sense
of truth to her friend decided her to withdraw as far as possible from
his society, and to return to the city.

She and Burt vied with each other in gayety at lunch. When it was over
they all grouped themselves in the shade of a clump of cedars, and looked
away upon the wide prospect, Webb pointing out objects of past and
present interest. Alf and Fred speedily grew restless and started off
with the gun, Johnnie's head sank into her mother's lap, Miss Hargrove
and Burt grew quiet and preoccupied, their eyes looking off into vacancy.
Webb was saying, "By one who had imagination how much more could be seen
from this point than meets the eye! There, on the plain below us, would
rise the magnificent rustic colonnade two hundred and twenty feet long
and eighty feet wide, beneath which Washington gave the great banquet in
honor of the birth of the Dauphin of France, and on the evening of the
same day these hills blazed with musketry and rolled back the thunder of
cannon with which the festivities of the evening were begun. Think of the
'Father of his Country' being there in flesh and blood, just as we are
here! In the language of an old military journal, 'He carried down a
dance of twenty couple on the green grass, with a graceful and dignified
air, having Mrs. Knox for his partner.' In almost a direct line across
the river you can see the Beverly Robinson house, from which Arnold
carried on his correspondence with Andre. You can look into the window of
the room to which, after hearing of the capture of Andre, he hastened
from the breakfast-table. To this upper room he immediately summoned his
wife, who had been the beautiful Margaret Shippen, you remember, and told
her of his awful peril, then rushed away, leaving the poor, terror-stricken
woman unconscious on the floor. Would you not like to look through the
glass at the house where the tragedy occurred, Miss Hargrove?"

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34