Payne Erskine

“ He had always loved Peter Junior too well to blame him especially as Peter could not have known what havoc he was making of his cousin’s hopes. It had all been a terrible mischance, and now they must make the best of it and be brave. Yet a feeling of resentment would creep into his heart in spite of his manful resolve to be fair to his cousin, and let nothing interfere with their lifelong friendship. In vain he told himself that Peter had the same right as he to seek Betty’s love. Why not? Why should he think himself the only one to be considered? But there was Betty! ”

“ That great youth ought to relieve her of such tasks. Where was he? Little did he dream that the eyes of the great youth were at that moment fixed darkly upon him from the small pane of glass set in under the cabin roof, which lighted Frale's garret room.
David stabled the horse in the log shed built by Doctor Hoyle for his own beast,—for what is life in the mountains without a horse,—then lingered awhile in his doorway looking out over the billows of ranges seen dimly through the fine veil of the falling rain. ”

“ CHAPTER I BETTY
Two whip-poor-wills were uttering their insistent note, hidden somewhere among the thick foliage of the maple and basswood trees that towered above the spring down behind the house where the Ballards lived. The sky in the west still glowed with amber light, and the crescent moon floated like a golden boat above the horizon’s edge. The day had been unusually warm, and the family were all gathered on the front porch in the dusk. The lamps within were unlighted, and the evening wind blew the white muslin curtains out and in through the opened windows. ”

“ Even now, James, if it hadn't been for Cassandra, I wouldn't have come. Why—it's the loveliest spot on earth. Stand still a minute, James, and listen. That's a thrush. Oh, something smells so sweet! It's a locust! And that's a redbird's note. There he is, like a red blossom in those bushes. There—no, there. You will look in the wrong direction, James, and now he's gone. You remember what David Thryng wrote? 'It's good just to be alive.' He's always saying that, and now I understand—in such a place as this. ”

“ They rounded the turn as he talked, and Larry Kildene stood forward under the stars and waved the torch over his head and held Harry back from the edge with his other hand. The air over their heads was sweet and pure and cold, and full of the roar of falling water. They could see it in a long, vast ribbon of luminous whiteness against the black abyss––moving––and waving––coming out from nothingness far above them, and reaching down to the nethermost depths––in that weird gloom of night––into nothingness again. ”

“ He had gone out and seen men chasing phantoms and shadows thinking therein to find joy—joy—the need of the world—one in a coronet, one in a crown, and the beggar in a golden sovereign—while he—he had found it in his own heart and in Cassandra's eyes.
David had passed the Fall Place, seeing no one; for the widow had ridden over to spend the day with Sally Carew, her niece was in the spring-house skimming cream, while Cotton was dawdling in the corn patch whistling and pulling the ripened ears from the stalks. ”

“ It had been the effort of Milton Hibbard to work up the sentiment of those who had been so eagerly following the trial, in favor of his client’s cause, before bringing on the final coup of the testimony of the Swede, and, last of all, that of Betty Ballard.
Poor little Betty, never for a moment doubting her perception in her recognition of Peter Junior, yet fearing those doubting ones in the court room, sat at home, quivering with the thought that the truth she must tell when at last her turn came might be the one straw added to the burden of evidence piled up to convict an innocent man. ”

“ I will live on the remembrance.
"People have to bear the separation of death, and we will call the ocean that divides us Death, for our two worlds are divided by it. I sail to-morrow. You took me into your heart to save me, and now, David my love, I go out of your heart to save you, and give you back to your own life. Some day the cords that bind us to each other, the cords our vows have made, will part and set you free. Good-by, good-by, David my heart, David my love, David, David, good-by.
"Cassandra Merlin." ”

“ Never cry again for me, Betty, never.”
“I will cry. I tell you I will cry. I will. I don’t believe you are a murderer.”
“You must believe it. I am.”
“I loved Peter Junior and you loved him. You did not mean to do it.”
“I did it.”
“If you did it, it is as if I did it, too. We both killed him––and I am a murderer, too. It was because of me you did it, and if you give yourself up to be hung, I will give myself up. Poor Peter––Oh, Richard––I don’t believe he fell over.” For a long moment she sobbed thus. “Where are you going, Richard?” she asked, lifting her head.
“I don’t know, Betty. ”

“ All will be yours, whatever you see and touch in those stately homes—for you will be the Lady Thryng, and, being the Lady Thryng, you will be no more wonderful or beautiful than you were when you climbed to me, following my flute notes, or when you bent between me and the fire preparing my supper, or when you were weaving at your loom, or when you came to me from our cabin door with your arms outstretched and the light of all the stars of heaven in your eyes. ”

“ It was the Elder’s firm belief that his son had been murdered, yet he thought if no traces should be found of Peter Junior, he might be able to spare Hester the agony of that belief. He preferred her to think her son had gone off in anger and would sometime return. He felt himself justified in this concealment, fearing that if she knew the truth, she might grieve herself into her grave, and his request to Mary to help him had been made so pitifully and humbly that her heart melted at the sight of the old man’s sorrow, and she went to spend those weary hours with his wife. ”

“ The glowing sky bending to the purple hilltops—the crescent moon and the lone shining star—the evening breeze singing in the pines above him—the delicate arbutus blossoms hiding near his feet—the call of a bird to its mate, and the faint answering call from some distant shade—the call in his own heart that as yet returned to him unanswered, but with its quiet surety of ultimate response—the joy of these moments perfect in beauty and a more abundant assurance of gladness near at hand—filled him and lifted his soul to follow the star. ”

“ It takes a genius to be a discreet and wise liar. Amalia’s lacking there––for me, I might learn. Now pocket your blarney long enough to tell me why you called me a Scotchman.”
“How would I know the difference between a broncho and a mule? By the earmarks, boy. I’ve lived in the world long enough to know men. If there be only a drop of Scotch blood in a man, he shows it. Like the mule he brays at the wrong time, or he settles back and stands when he should go forward. Oh, there’s many a sign to enlighten the wise.” ”

“ Somehow our viewpoints have got mixed. Sacrifice myself? Why, Cassandra, if I were to lose you out of my life, I should be a broken-hearted man. What did I sacrifice? Phantoms, vanities, and emptiness. Oh, Cassandra, Cassandra, my priestess of all that is good! Open your eyes, love, and see as I see—as you have taught me to see.
"Much that we strive for and reckon as gain is really worthless. Why, sweet, I would far, far rather have you at your loom for the mother of my son, than Lady Clara at her piano. ”

“ An artist? Look at your friend, Bertrand Ballard. What has he to live on? What will he have laid by for his old age? How has he managed to live all these years––he and his wife? Miserable hand-to-mouth existence! I’ll see my son trying to emulate him! You’ll be an artist? And how will you support a wife if you ever have one? You mean to marry some day?”
“I mean to marry Betty Ballard,” said Peter Junior, with a rugged set of his jaw.
Again the Elder made that despairing downward thrust with his open hands. ”

“ Cassandra stiffened proudly and drew away, taking up her shuttle and beginning her work calmly as if nothing had happened to destroy her composure.
"I've not written David—anything to disturb him—or make him hurry home."
"Oh, Cassandra, Cassandra! You're not treating either him or yourself fairly."
"For him—I can't help it; and for me, I don't care. Other women have got along as best they could in these mountains, and I can bear what they have borne." ”

“ Then, arrived at the cabin, he would be all courtesy and geniality.
When Harry rallied him on his inconsistency, he gravely replied: “An Irish gentleman is an Irish gentleman the world over, no matter where you find him, in court, camp, or wilderness; it’s all one to him. Why do you think I brought that mirror you shave by all the way up the mountain? Why, to have a body to look at now and again, and to blarney, just that I might not forget the trick. What was the good of that, do you ask? Look at yourself, man. ”

“ Stretton.
"I can write to Cassandra. She will understand more easily than my mother. She sees into the heart of things. Her thoughts go to the truth like arrows of light. She will see that I must go, but she must never know—I must save her from it if I have to do so at the expense of my own soul—that the reason I cannot take her with me now is that our great friends over there are too small to understand her nature and might despise her. ”

“ Three people climbed the long winding trail from the plains beneath, slowly, carefully, and silently. A huge mountaineer walked ahead, leading a lean brown horse. Seated on the horse was a woman with long, pale face, and deeply sunken dark eyes that looked out from under arched, dark brows with a steady gaze that never wandered from some point just ahead of her, not as if they perceived anything beyond, but more as if they looked backward upon some terror. ”

“ CHAPTER XXXII IN WHICH CASSANDRA BRINGS THE HEIR OF DANESHEAD CASTLE BACK TO HER HILLTOP, AND THE SHADOW LIFTS
"Cassandry Merlin, whar did you drap from?" cried the Widow Farwell, as she looked up from the supper she was preparing at the great fireplace, and saw her daughter in the doorway with her baby. Her old face radiated light and warmth and love as she took them both in her arms. "Whar's David?"
Cassandra smiled wearily, returning her mother's kiss and yielding her the baby. "You'll have to be satisfied with me and little son, mother. David was still in Africa, so I came home again." ”

“ Standing there looking out upon the world beneath him and above him bathed in the immaculate whiteness of the snow, and the moonlight over all, he perceived how small an atom in the universe is one lone man, yet how overwhelmingly great in his power to love. ”

“ Then they were silent, a long silence, until, seated together in their cabin before a bright log fire, as she held their baby to her breast, Cassandra broke the stillness.
"Now I see it better, David. As you came here and lived my life, and loved me just as I was—so to be truly one, I must go with you and live your life. I must not fail you there."
"You have been tried as by fire and have not failed—nor are you the kind of woman who ever fails." ”

“ Thus Larry Kildene came back to his mountain. Exhausted, he still made light of his achievement––climbing through day and night to arrive before the snow should embank around him. He stood in the firelight swaying with weariness and tasted the hot coffee and shook his grizzled head and laughed. The animals came slowly on and stood close to him, almost resting their noses on his shoulder, while Harry King gazed on him with admiration. ”

“ Your heritage of the great nature—the far-seeing—the trusting spirit—harboring no evil and construing all things to righteousness—going out into the world and finding among all the dust and dross, even of centuries, only the pure gold—the eye that sees into a man's soul, searching out the true and lovely qualities there and transmuting all the rest into pure metal—my own soul's alchemist—your heritage is the secret of power. ”

“ When Bertrand and Mary entered, they stood for a moment aghast, seeing little likeness to either of the young men in the developed and bronzed specimen of manhood before them. But they greeted him warmly, eager to find him Peter, and in their manner he missed nothing of their old-time kindliness.
“You are greatly changed, Peter Junior. You look more like Richard Kildene than you ever did before in your life,” said Mary. ”

“ She'll never say a word, but that's what she'll do."
"Why, Doctor!" cried David, appalled. "I love her as my own life—my very soul."
"Of—of course. That goes without saying. We all do, we men, but we—damn it all! Do you suppose I've lived all these years and not seen? Why—we think of ourselves first every time. D—don't we, though? Rather!"
"But selfish as we are, we can love—a man can, if he sets himself to it honestly,—love a woman and make her happy, even without the appreciation of others, in spite of environment,—everything. It's the destiny of women to love us, thank God. ”

“ Then children come to us, and our very souls are knit in one, and still the mystery goes on and on; never are we completed by being lost––either one––in the will or nature of the other; but to make the whole and perfect creature, each must retain the individuality belonging to himself or herself, each to each the perfect and equal other half.”
Peter Junior paused in his walk and stood for a moment looking down on his mother, awed by what she revealed to him of her inner nature. “I believe you have done this, mother. You have kept your own individuality complete, and father doesn’t know it.” ”

“ Was it right, Doctor? Was there no other way?" she wailed.
"As far as human knowledge goes, there was no other way. Listen, Miss Cassandra, I have been where such accidents were frequent. Many a man's leg have I taken off. Surgery is my work in life—don't be horrified. I chose it because I wished to be a saver of life and a helper of my fellows." She was shivering more from the nervous reaction than from the cold, and to David it seemed as if she were trying to draw farther away from him. ”

“ Is much to do that is very pleasant. But of those wild lions on the hills, they are not for a man to fight alone.” He restrained the horse, and walked slowly at her side, his hand on the pommel of the saddle, but did not speak. “You promise not? All night you stay in the cold, where is danger, and how may I know you will not again do such a thing? All is beautiful here, and great happiness may be if––if that you do no tragedy.” So sweetly did she plead he could no longer remain silent.
“There is only one happiness for me in life, Amalia, and that is forbidden me. ”

“ His appetite sharpened by the climb and the bracing air, David investigated the contents of one of those melon-shaped baskets which Cassandra had given him when he started for his new home that morning, with little Hoyle as his guide.
Ah, what hospitable kindness they had shown to him, a stranger! Here were delicate bits of fried chicken, sweet and white, corn-bread, a glass of honey, and a bottle of milk. Nothing better need a man ask; and what animals men are, after all, he thought, taking delight in the mere acts of eating and breathing and sleeping. ”

“ All was quiet and lonely around Carew's Crossing when Frale dropped from the train and struck off over the mountain. Soon there would be bustle and stir and life about the place, for the hotel would be open and people would be crowding in, some to escape the heat of the far South and the low countries, some from the cities either North or South to whom the bracing air of the mountains would bring renewed vitality—business men with shattered nerves and women whose high play during the winter at the game of social life had left them nervous wrecks. ”

“ Peter Junior’s heart melted. He took his mother in his arms and stroked her beautiful white hair. “I love you, mother, dear,” was all he could say. Should he tell her of Betty now? The question died in his heart. It was too much. He would be all hers for a little, nor intrude the new love that she might think divided his heart. He returned to the question of his father’s consent. “Mother, what shall I do if he will not give it?”
“Wait. Try to be patient and do what he wishes. It may help him to yield in the end.” ”

“ She spoke dreamily and with the same look of seeing things beyond, except that now she fixed her eyes, not on the mountain top, but on his own.
"Is it in my eyes you see the long path of light? Are we together in it? I see you always with the light about you. I saw you so first in your own home before the blazing fire—such a hearth fire as I had never seen before. You have appeared to me in my dreams with light about you ever since, and in my visions when I have been riding over these hills alone. ”

“ Ere long such a spring as David had never dreamed of swept up the mountain, with a charm so surpassing and transcending any imagined beauty that he was filled with a sort of ecstasy. He was constantly out upon the hills revelling in the lavish bounty of earth and sky, of rushing waters, and all the subtile changes in growing things, as if at last he had been clasped to the heart of nature. He visited the cabins wherever he was called, and when there was need for Cassandra's ministrations he often took her with him ”

“ There are so many in the world to kill and wound, some there must be to mend where it is possible. I saw in a moment that your intuition had led you rightly, and soon I knew what must be done; I only hope we were not too late. Don't cry, Miss Cassandra. It makes me feel such a brute to have put you through it. ”

“ Old Time, the unfailing, who always marches apace, bringing with him changes for good or evil, brought the dear old doctor back to the Fall Place—brought the small Adam Hoyle, with his queer little twisted neck and hunched back, drawn by harness and plaster into a much improved condition, although not straight yet—brought many letters from David filled with postponements and regrets therefor—and brought also a little son for Cassandra to hold to her bosom and dream and pray over. ”

“ As a child will weep one minute over some creature his heedlessness has hurt and the next forget it all in the pursuit of some new delight, so this child of nature took his way, swayed by his moods and desires—an elemental force, like a swollen torrent taking its vengeful way—forgetful of promises—glad of freedom—angry at being held in restraint, and willing to crush or tear away any opposing force. ”

“ An inaccessible tangle of laurel and rhododendron clothed the rough and precipitous wall of the mountain side, which fell sheer down until lost in purple shadow, with a mantle of green, deep and rich, varied by the gray of the lichen-covered rocks, the browns and reds of the bare branches of deciduous trees, and the paler tints of feathery pines. Here and there, from damp, springy places, dark hemlocks rose out of the mass, tall and majestic, waving their plumy tops, giant sentinels of the wilderness. ”

“ The long trestle crossed, the engines labored slowly upward for a time, then, turning a sharp curve, began to descend, tearing along the narrow track with a speed that caused the coaches to rock and sway; and thus they reached Carew's Crossing, dropping down to it like a rushing torrent.
Immediately Thryng found himself deposited in the melting snow some distance from the station platform, and at the same instant, above the noise of the retreating train, he heard a cry: "Oh, suh, help him, help him! It's poor little Hoyle!" ”

“ Guided by the unseen hand that held the earth, the crescent moon and the star to their orbits, would he find the great happiness that should be not his alone, but also for the eyes uplifted to the mountain top and the heart waiting in the shadows for the one to be sent? ”

“ I didn't want you to see all I saw, David. I don't know how comes it, but all the [Pg 205] time, even in the midst of our great gladness—right when it is most beautiful—far before me, right across our way, is a place that is dim. It seems 'most like the shadows that fall on the hills when those great piles of clouds pass through the sky, when it is deep blue all around them and the sun shines everywhere else."
"Your soul is still an undiscovered country to me, Cassandra."
"I should think you'd like that. Don't men love to go discovering? ”

“ In spite of her calmness, Cassandra lay wakeful and patient, and when at last she did sleep, it seemed to her she stood with her husband on her father's path, looking out under overarching boughs, upon blue distances of heaped-up mountain tops, and David's flute notes, silvery sweet, were raining down upon her. She awoke to discover day was breaking, and a pealing of bells from some distant church tower was announcing the fact.
She gathered her babe to her throbbing heart and thought, to-day she was to go out and meet her husband's people. How should she go? How should she conduct herself? ”

“ The argument for repentance having come back to him void, the bishop began again. "You tell me Cassandra has given you her promise? What are you going to do about it?"
"Hit's 'twixt her an' me," said the youth proudly.
"No," thundered the bishop, all the man in him roused to beat into this crude, triumphant animal some sense of what Cassandra had really done. "No. It's betwixt you and the God who made you. You have to answer to God for what you do." He towered above him, and bending down, looked into Frale's eyes until the boy cowered and looked down, with lowered head, and there was silence. ”

“ He lifted his head and saw Frale's eyes fixed upon him sadly—almost as if he knew the bishop's thoughts. Yes, here was a soul worth while. Plainly there was but one course to pursue, and but one thread left to hold the young man to steadfast purpose. Using that thread, he would try. If he could be made to sacrifice for Cassandra some of his physical joy of life, seeking to give more than to appropriate to himself for his own satisfaction—if he could teach him the value of what she had done—could he rise to such a height, and learn self-control? ”