by John Fox
V
The boy stood at a window looking out into the gathering dusk. His eyecould catch the last red glow on the yellow river. Above that a purplishlight rested on the green expanse stretching westward--stretching on andon through savage wilds to his own wilds beyond the lonely Cumberlands.Outside the window the multitude of flowers was drinking in the dew anddrooping restfully to sleep. A multitude of strange birds called andtwittered from the trees. The neighing of horses, the lowing of cattle,the piping of roosting turkeys and motherly clutter of roosting hens,the weird songs of negroes, the sounds of busy preparation through thehouse and from the kitchen--all were sounds of peace and plenty, securityand service. And over in his own wilds at that hour they were drivingcows and horses into the stockade. They were cooking their rude supperin the open. A man had gone to each of the watch-towers. From theblackening woods came the curdling cry of a panther and the hooting ofowls. Away on over the still westward wilds were the wigwams of squaws,pappooses, braves, the red men--red in skin, in blood, in heart, and redwith hate against the whites.
Perhaps they were circling a fire at that moment in a frenziedwar-dance--perhaps the hooting at that moment, from the woods around thefort was not the hooting of owls at all. There all was hardship--danger;here all was comfort and peace. If they could see him now! See his room,his fire, his bed, his clothes! They had told him to come, and yet hefelt now the shame of desertion. He had come, but he would not stay longaway. The door opened, he turned, and Harry Dale came eagerly in.
"Mother wants to see you."
The two boys paused in the hall and Harry pointed to a pair of crossedrapiers over the mantelpiece.
"Those were your father's," he said; "he was a wonderful fencer."
The lad shook his head in ignorance, and Harry smiled.
"I'll show you to-morrow."
At a door in the other ell Harry knocked gently, and a voice that waslow and sweet but vibrant with imperiousness called:
"Come in!"
"Here he is, mother."
The lad stepped into warmth, subtle fragrance, and many candle lights.The great lady was just rising from a chair in front of her mirror,brocaded, powdered, and starred with jewels. So brilliant a visionalmost stunned the little stranger and it took an effort for him to lifthis eyes to hers.
"Why, _this_ is not the lad you told me of," she said. "Come here! Bothof you." They came and the lady scrutinized them comparingly.
"Actually you look alike--and, Harry, you have no advantage, even if youare my own son. I am glad you are here," she said with sudden soberness,and smiling tenderly she put both hands on his shoulders, drew him toher and kissed him, and again he felt in his eyes that curious sting.
"Come, Harry!" With a gallant bow Harry offered his left arm, andgathering the little Kentuckian with her left, the regal lady swept out.In the reception-room she kept the boy by her side. Every man whoapproached bowed, and soon the lad was bowing, too. The ladiescourtesied, the room was soon filled, and amid the flash of smiles,laughter, and gay banter the lad was much bewildered, but his faceshowed it not at all. Barbara almost cried out her astonishment andpleasure when she saw what a handsome figure he made in his newclothing, and all her little friends were soon darting surreptitiousglances at him, and many whispered questions and pleasing comments werepassed around. From under Hugh's feet the ground for the moment wasquite taken away, so much to the eye, at least, do clothes make the man.Just then General Willoughby bowed with noble dignity before Mrs. Dale,and the two led the way to the dining-room.
"Harry," she said, "you and Barbara take care of your cousin."
And almost without knowing it the young Kentuckian bowed to Barbara, whocourtesied and took his arm. But for his own dignity and hers, she wouldhave liked to squeal her delight. The table flashed with silver andcrystal on snowy-white damask and was brilliant with colored candles.The little woodsman saw the men draw back chairs for the ladies, and hedrew back Barbara's before Hugh, on the other side of her, couldforestall him. On his left was Harry, and Harry he watched keenly--but nomore keenly than Hugh watched him. Every now and then he would catch apair of interested eyes looking furtively at him, and he knew his storywas going the round of the table among those who were not guests in thehouse. The boy had never seen so many and so mysterious-looking thingsto eat and drink. One glass of wine he took, and the quick dizzinessthat assailed him frightened him, and he did not touch it again. BeyondBarbara, Hugh leaned forward and lifted his glass to him. He shook hishead and Hugh flushed.
"Our Kentucky cousin is not very polite--he is something of abarbarian--naturally."
"He doesn't understand," said Barbara quickly, who had noted theincident, and she turned to her cousin.
"Papa says you _are_ going to live with us and you are going to studywith Harry under Mr. Brockton."
"Our tutor," explained Harry; "there he is across there. He is anEnglishman."
"Tutor?" questioned the boy.
"School-teacher," laughed Harry.
"Oh!"
"Haven't you any school-teachers at home?"
"No, I learned to read and write a little from Dave and Lyddy."
And then he had to tell who they were, and he went on to tell them aboutMother Sanders and Honor and Bud and Jack and Polly Conrad and Lydia andDave, and all the frontier folk, and the life they led, and the Indianfights which thrilled Barbara and Harry, and forced even Hugh tolisten--though once he laughed incredulously, and in a way that of asudden shut the boy's lips tight and made Barbara color and Harry lookgrave. Hugh then turned to his wine and began soon to look more flushedand sulky. Shortly after the ladies left, Hugh followed them, and Harryand the Kentuckian moved toward the head of the table where the men hadgathered around Colonel Dale.
"Yes," said General Willoughby, "it looks as though it might come."
"With due deference to Mr. Brockton," said Colonel Dale, "it looks asthough his country would soon force us to some action."
They were talking about impending war. Far away as his wilds were, theboy had heard some talk of war in them, and he listened greedily to thequick fire of question and argument directed to the Englishman, who heldhis own with such sturdiness that Colonel Dale, fearing the heat mightbecome too great, laughed and skilfully shifted the theme. Through halland doorways came now merry sounds of fiddle and banjo.
"Come on, cousin," said Harry; "can you dance?"
"If your dances are as different as everything else, I reckon not, but Ican try."
Near a doorway between parlor and hall sat the fiddlers three. Gallantbows and dainty courtesyings and nimble feet were tripping measuresquite new to the backwoodsman. Barbara nodded, smiled, and after thedance ran up to ask him to take part, but he shook his head. Hugh hadlooked at him as from a superior height, and the boy noticed himfrowning while Barbara was challenging him to dance. The next dance waseven more of a mystery, for the dancers glided by in couples, Mr.Byron's diatribe not having prevented the importation of the waltz tothe new world, but the next cleared his face and set his feet to keepingtime, for the square dance had, of course, reached the wilds.
"I know that," he said to Harry, who told Barbara, and the little girlwent up to him again, and this time, flushing, he took place with her onthe floor. Hugh came up.
"Cousin Barbara, this is our dance, I believe," he said a littlethickly.
The girl took him aside and Hugh went surlily away. Harry saw theincident and he looked after Hugh, frowning. The backwoodsman conductedhimself very well. He was lithe and graceful and at first verydignified, but as he grew in confidence he began to execute steps thatwere new to that polite land and rather boisterous, but Barbara lookedpleased and all onlookers seemed greatly amused--all except Hugh. Andwhen the old fiddler sang out sonorously:
"Genelmen to right--cheat an' swing!" the boy cheated outrageously,cheated all but his little partner, to whom each time he turned withopen loyalty, and Hugh was openly sneering now and genuinely angry.
"You shal
l have the last dance," whispered Barbara, "the Virginia reel."
"I know that dance," said the boy.
And when that dance came and the dancers were drawn in two lines, theboy who was third from the end heard Harry's low voice behind him:
"He is my cousin and my guest and you will answer to me."
The lad wheeled, saw Harry with Hugh, left his place, and went to them.He spoke to Harry, but he looked at Hugh with a sword-flash in eachblack eye:
"I don't want nobody to take up for me."
Again he wheeled and was in his place, but Barbara saw and lookedtroubled, and so did Colonel Dale. He went over to the two boys and puthis arm around Hugh's shoulder.
"I don't want nobody to take up for me"]
"Tut, tut, my boys," he said, with pleasant firmness, and led Hugh away,and when General Willoughby would have followed, the colonel nodded himback with a smile, and Hugh was seen no more that night. The guests leftwith gayety, smiles, and laughter, and every one gave the stranger akindly good-by. Again Harry went with him to his room and the ladstopped again under the crossed swords.
"You fight with 'em?"
"Yes, and with pistols."
"I've never had a pistol. I want to learn how to use _them_."
Harry looked at him searchingly, but the boy's face gave hint of no morepurpose than when he first asked the same question.
"All right," said Harry.
The lad blew out his candle, but he went to his window instead of hisbed. The moonlight was brilliant--among the trees and on the sleepingflowers and the slow run of the broad river, and it was very still outthere and very lovely, but he had no wish to be out there. With wind andstorm and sun, moon and stars, he had lived face to face all his life,but here they were not the same. Trees, flowers, house, people hadreared some wall between him and them, and they seemed now to be veryfar away. Everybody had been kind to him--all but Hugh. Veiled hostilityhe had never known before and he could not understand. Everybody hadsurely been kind, and yet--he turned to his bed, and all night his brainwas flashing to and fro between the reel of vivid pictures etched on itin a day and the grim background that had hitherto been his life beyondthe hills.