Three Little Women's Success: A Story for Girls

by Gabrielle E. Jackson

  CHAPTER XIII

  AFTERMATH.

  That storm of March, 19--, claimed many a victim. More than one wasfrozen to death, many died from the exposure, and many more wereinvalids for months as the result of it. All that terrible night Dr.Black worked over old Charles, with Mammy and Hadyn to aid him, andConstance to vibrate between the house and the cottage, for with thefirst peep of dawn Mr. Henry's man came over to dig out the snow-boundfamily and make a path from house to cottage. Mrs. Carruth, uponlearning of Jean's desperate rush for Dr. Black and her collapse at hisdoorstep, started instantly for his home. Charles could claim a greatdeal from her, but the claim of her own was far greater, and Dr. Black'ssleigh and powerful horse carried her to Jean as quickly as the greatsnowdrifts permitted.

  But Jean was really none the worse for her mad ride once she was warmedand had partaken of Mrs. Black's cup of steaming hot chocolate. She wasas strong and pliable as a hickory sapling, which, the storm havingpassed over it, springs erect and is as vigorous as ever. Mrs. Blacksoon reassured Mrs. Carruth, and at length had the satisfaction ofseeing them both fast asleep in her guest room, Mrs. Carruth's arm, evenin her sleep, laid caressingly and protectingly across Jean's shoulder.Both were worn out, and noon had struck before they wakened to reproachthemselves for their long rest and to make inquiry for Charles. Dr.Black had just returned, and reported a decided improvement in the oldman.

  "And Baltie--dear old Baltie?" demanded Jean.

  "Baltie is sure enough in clover, little girl," answered the gooddoctor. "Dried clover, and last summer's clover, to be sure, but nonethe less clover, for Dick has nearly buried him in it, and the oldfellow seems none the worse for his struggle through snowdrifts. But youare both trumps--the queen of hearts and the king, by George! I don'tknow how you did it!"

  "We _had_ to do it. There wasn't anyone else to."

  Dr. Black took the earnest face in both his hands, and, looking into thehazel eyes, said:

  "It is a pity a few more are not convinced of that 'we had to.'"

  Then he drove his guests back to their home. It was agreed that Baltieshould not be taken out of Dr. Black's stable until the weathermoderated.

  A week passed. Charles was out of danger, but still required the closestattention, and Constance insisted upon a nurse from Memorial Hospital.Mammy protested, but her protests were of no avail. Constance saw veryquickly that weeks of careful nursing lay ahead, and she would notpermit her mother to overtax her strength. Mammy must attend to hercooking and the luncheon counter, now that Charles could not. Constancehad her own hands full with her candy kitchen, for, even with Mary andFanny Willing to assist her, she had all she could do to keep abreast ofher orders. So the nurse took command in Mammy's bedroom, and Mammy hadto yield.

  Perhaps no one felt the situation half as keenly as Hadyn did. That hehad dozed off in that hour and a half in which so much occurred filledhim with a remorse he could not overcome. He had been left at a post ofduty at a critical hour, and he had failed ignominiously. He would notadmit any extenuating circumstances, for he sincerely felt that therewere none. If others had kept awake when it was imperative to keepawake, why had he not done so? If little Jean had been able to do so,and when he had failed her had undertaken such a ride, undaunted by thehour, the darkness, the loneliness and the terrific storm, while hedozed snugly before the open fire--oh, it was intolerable, disgraceful!And these friends had done so much for him! True, no harm had come toJean or to the others, but Hadyn shuddered when he pictured what mighthave happened in those ninety minutes. Coax and urge as he would hecould not induce Jean to admit that she had signalled to the house foraid, albeit he felt as certain that she had done so as if he had seenthe electric light flashed. When he urged she simply closed her lips andshook her head, and as no one else, not even Constance, could enlightenhim, he had to let the matter drop.

  In the course of the next week Baltie came hobbling back to his home. Inspite of all the care given him at Dr. Black's, the old horse showed theeffects of his exposure and the terrible tax upon his strength that wildnight; yet none who loved him so well dreamed that the great summons hadreally come to the animal which had given more than thirty years offaithful service to his friends. From little colthood he had beenGrandfather Raulsbury's pet until the old man's death. Then had come thedreadful interval of evil days when Jabe Raulsbury had so misused him,to be followed by the happier ones with the Carruths--days of unremittingcare, affection and happiness for Baltie and those who loved him, andespecially to Jean and Mammy. And how generously he had requited theirdevotion to him! Indeed, the last act of his life was to be recorded asone of service to those he loved--a service which had undoubtedly savedthe life of one who had tenderly ministered to his comfort. But forBaltie's devotion Charles' life could not have been saved, all agreed,and the one who loved the blind horse more than any other excepting Jeanwould have mourned her old husband. Mammy's heart was large enough totake in all the world if they needed her love and care, though she oftenhid that fact beneath an assumed aggressiveness. That was Mammy's way.

  From the hour that Baltie had become the joint property of Jean andMammy, and later the ownership had embraced Charles, they had not missedvisiting his stable the first thing in the morning. For a long timeMammy's was the first voice the blind old horse heard when he greetedthe morning sunlight which streamed into his big box stall; Mammy's thefirst hand to minister to his comfort and caress him. Then, as soon asshe was dressed, Jean flew to the stable, and a pretty scene alwaysfollowed. When Charles came into the family he was the one to go firstto the stable; but neither Jean nor Mammy ever failed to visit Baltie alittle later, and during those years he had become almost human. Onlyhuman speech seemed denied him, but this lack he supplied by his ownHouyhnhum language, and the silent but most eloquent language of theeyes and ears which God has given mute creatures--each so very wonderfulif dull humans will only try to learn them. In the audible one arealmost as many inflections as in the broader range of the human voice,and it is a dull intellect indeed which cannot interpret:

  "I love you. I am cold. I am hungry. I am parched with thirst," and ahundred other sentences, or read the language of the eyes and ears.

  And Baltie's vocabulary was a liberal one; his conversational powers,exceptional; his friends understanding the keenest.

  As often occurs, that blizzard, which is now history, was followed byweather as soft and balmy as mid-April rather than late March. As if bymagic the snow disappeared, running away in rivers of water and leavingthe turf beneath showing promising bits of green, which made one feellittle tingles of joy at the hint of springtime. Only in sunless spotsdid banks of snow linger surlily and soiled, like some malign creaturebeaten, but yet too vindictive to withdraw. The stable fronted south,and all the graciousness of that early spring sunshine fell upon it andentered its doors the minute they were opened. In spite of her anxietyfor Charles, and her increased labors as the result of his illness andconvalescence, Mammy had somehow found time to visit Baltie each day,though she was not often able to do so early in the morning. It was Jeanwho ran out to him long before anyone else was astir, and more than oncehad Constance been obliged to go out after her, lest she forgetbreakfast, school, and everything else.

  Baltie had been back in his own stable about a week when he began toshow signs that the wonderful machinery which had endured for so manyyears was wearing out. Had Charles or Mammy been looking after him then,they would have recognized the signs; but Mr. Henry's man, though he dideverything for Baltie's comfort, saw in him nothing but a worn-out oldhorse, which must very soon go the way of all old worn-out horses, andJean lacked experience to understand. So the climax came when no onedreamed it was pending.

  It was a wonderful morning in mid-April. Out in the garden some pioneerrobins had ventured into the northern world, and were calling madly toone another of the grave responsibilities of selecting building sites,and constructing homes against the arrival of their wives, who had, likethemselves, been wintering
in the South. On the southern terrace a fewventuresome crocuses popped their heads up through the moist earth tosmile a "howdy, friend," at a passerby. Off in the distance the riverlay like a mirror, with vast ice floes dropping down stream with thetide, crystal barges for Elaine, and moving as silently, each duplicatedin the water mirror that floated them, as were also the opposite shoreand mountains. A wonderful picture, mirage-like in its outline andexquisite coloring. Those who knew that river best read the signsunerringly. The farmers living in the environs of Riveredge called thispeculiar atmospheric condition a "weather breeder."

  There was something in Jean which fairly leaped out to meet the newlyawakened world and springtide. From a little child she had lived veryclose indeed to nature's heart. The first balmy breath of spring seemedto intoxicate her; the first bird-call could throw her into an ecstacy;an early spring blossom invariably caused a rapture; summer's languorand richness bore her off into a beautiful world of her own; autumn's"mellow, yellow, ripening days, floating in a golden coating of adreamy, listless haze," conveyed her instantly into dreamland; winter'sfrost and sparkle produced the wildest exhilaration. Was it any wonderthat, coming out into the early morning sunlight of that soft springlikeday, with bird notes filling the air, and her own pulses thrilling withlife at its dawn, Jean's cheeks glowed and her eyes sparkled with thevery joy of living?

  It was still very early and no one yet astir. Over in Mammy's cottage afaint smoke wraith floated up from the chimney, telling that Mammy wasastir. Jean had thrown a warm cape about her, for the morning air stillhad its chill, and, enticed by the sunlight, she ran down the piazzasteps, inhaling deep breaths of the delicious air. Pausing a moment torevel in it all, her eyes fell upon the stable. The next second she wasdarting away like a swallow, no premonition in her heart of what laybehind its closed doors.

  Opening the door she entered with a soft whistle. When had there failedto be an instant response to that whistle? This time there was silenceonly.

  "Oh, Baltie, dear! Come, Baltie!" she called, running across to the boxstall and opening the door. Then there was a low cry, and Jean stood fora moment as though petrified. On the sweet, clean straw lay the oldhorse, body inert, limbs relaxed, head resting upon its bed of softstraw as a tired, worn-out veteran's might rest upon his pillow, hiseyes closed, and without a flutter of the delicate nostrils to indicatebreathing. Life seemed extinct. With a piteous cry Jean glided to thehorse's head and dropped upon her knees, clasping her arms about thesilky neck.

  "Baltie, oh, Baltie, dear, look at me! Speak to me," she begged.

  The eyelids fluttered, and the faintest possible nicker was breathedthrough the nostrils as he strove to raise his head. Too late! The angelof death was about to claim one of his most faithful creatures, and, letus hope, the recording angel was already checking off the deeds of adevoted life and a disposition which many of his friends claimingimmortality might emulate.

  "Oh, my Baltie, my Baltie!" sobbed Jean, slipping into a sittingposition and lifting the horse's head into her lap. "Must you leave me?Must your life end now? I love you so, Baltie, I love you so! You havebeen so good, so faithful! How can I let you die? how can I?" and withheartbreaking sobs Jean buried her head in the silky forelock as herarms clasped the great head.

  Slowly the sunlight which Baltie and Jean so loved crept around andlooked into the window of the stall. On a branch just beyond the windowa bluebird caroled as though not in all the sunlit world was theresorrow or death.

  In the stall Jean sat motionless. Her first impulse had been to rush foraid; but who could aid in this extremity? Instinctively the girl knew itto be the end, and somehow, in her great love for her pet, she did notwish anyone else to intrude upon the moment of his passing. She had noidea of the flight of time. Ten minutes or an hour might have passedwithout her noting them. Baltie lay perfectly still, his head in herlap, her arms clasping his neck. Gently, sweetly as he had lived, so wasBaltie slipping out of the world of sentient creatures. Only thefaintest flutter of breath indicated that life lingered. His effort togreet the one he loved seemed to have demanded his last atom ofvitality. After a little Jean's sobs ceased, though tears still fellupon the satiny head. She did not know how long she had been in thestall, when just the softest sigh was breathed from the delicatenostrils, a faint quiver passed over the great frame, and Baltie was atrest forever. Gently as he had lived, so had Baltie died.

  Two hours later Mammy came out to the stable in quest of Jean.