The Bondwoman

by Marah Ellis Ryan

  CHAPTER XXII.

  The O'Delaven, as he called himself when he was in an especially Irishmood, was Mistress McVeigh's most devoted servant and helper in thepreparations for the party. In fact, when Judge Clarkson rode over topay his respects, a puzzled little frown persistently crept betweenhis brows at the gallantry and assiduity displayed by this exile ofErin in carrying out the charming lady's orders, to say nothing of thegayety, the almost presumption, with which he managed affairs to suithis own fancy when his hostess was not there to give personalattention; and the child Evilena was very nearly, if not quiteignored, or at any rate, was treated in a condescending manner almostparental in its character, and which he perceived was as littlerelished by the girl as by himself.

  He was most delighted, of course, to learn who was the purchaser ofLoringwood--it was such an admirable transaction he felt everybodyconcerned was to be congratulated; even war news was forgotten for aspace.

  All the day passed and no Kenneth! His mother decided he would bethere the following morning, and, with flags draped over walls, andall the preparations complete for his reception, she retired, wearyand happy from the day's labors.

  Judithe eyed those flags with the same inscrutable smile sometimesgiven to Matthew Loring's compliments. She pointed to them nextmorning, when Delaven and herself stood in the hall waiting for theirhorses. She had accepted him as cavalier for the time, and they weregoing for a ride in the cool of the morning before the others werestirring.

  Margeret was in sight, however--Judithe wondered if she _ever_slept--and she came to them with delicious coffee and crisp toast, andwatched them as they rode away.

  It was while sipping the steaming coffee the flags were noticed, andJudithe remarked: "Those emblems mean so much down here, yet I neverhear you discuss them, or what they stand for. Your nation is onealways in rebellion against its unsympathetic governess. I shouldthink you would naturally tend towards the seceders here."

  "I do--towards several, individually," and he looked at her over therim of the cup with quizzical blue eyes. "But I find three factionshere instead of two, and my people have been too long under theoppressor for me not to appreciate what freedom would mean to theseserfs in the South, and how wildly they long for it. No; I like theSoutherners better than the Northerners, because I know them better;but in the matter of sympathy, faith! I forget both the warringfactions and only think of Sambo and Sambo's wife and children."

  Judithe raised her finger, as Margeret entered with the toast andquietly vanished.

  "I was afraid she would hear you. I fancy they must feel sensitiveover the situation; speak French, please. What was it the Judge wassaying about emancipation last evening? I noticed the conversation waschanged as Mr. Loring grew--well, excited."

  "Oh, the old story; rumors again that the Federal government mean toproclaim freedom for the blacks. But when it was done in two states bythe local authorities, it was vetoed at Washington; so it is doubtfulafter all if it is true, there are so many rumors afloat. But if it isdone there will be nothing vague about it. I fancy it will be said sogood and loud that there will be a panic from ocean to ocean."

  "Insurrection?"

  "No; the Judge is right; there is a peculiar condition of affairs hereprecluding the possibility of that unless in isolated instances, acertain personal sympathy between master and slave which a foreignerfinds difficult of comprehension."

  "What about the runaways?" she asked, with a little air of check,"several of them have escaped the sympathetic bonds in that way; infact, they tell me Mr. Loring, or his niece, has lately lost some veryvaluable live stock through that tendency."

  "Whisper now!--though I believe it is a very open secret in thecommunity, the gentleman in question, my dear Marquise, is one of theisolated instances. If you are studying social institutions in thiscountry you must make a note of that, and underline it with red ink.He is by no means the typical Southerner. He is, however, a proof ofthe fact that it is a dangerous law which allows every one possessingwealth an almost unlimited power over scores of human beings. To besure, he is mild as skim-milk these days of convalescence, but thereare stories told of the use he made of power when he dared, that wouldwarrant the whole pack taking to their heels if they had the courage.They are not stories for ladies' ears, however, and I doubt if MissLoring herself is aware of them. But in studying the country here,don't forget that my patient is one in a thousand--better luck to therest."

  "So!" and she arose, drawing on her glove slowly, and regarding himwith a queer little smile; "you _have_ been giving thought tosomething besides the love songs of this new country? Your ideas arevery interesting. I shall remember them, even without the red ink."

  Then they mounted the impatient horses and rode out in the pink flushof the morning--the only hours cool enough for the foreigners toexercise at that season. They were going no place in particular, butwhen the cross-country road was reached leading to Loringwood, shesuddenly turned to him and proposed that he conduct her to her newpurchase--introduce her to Loringwood.

  "With all the pleasure in life," he assented gaily, somewhat curiousto see how she would like the "pig in a poke," as he designated herbusiness transaction.

  When they reached the gate she dismounted and insisted on walkingthrough the long avenue she had admired. He was going to lead thehorses, but she said, "No, tie them to the posts there, they were bothwell behaved, tractable animals;" she could speak for her mount at anyrate. Pluto had told her it was Col. McVeigh's favorite, trained byhimself.

  She wore a thin silken veil of palest grey circling her hat, coveringher face, and the end fastened in fluffy loops on her bosom. Her habitwas of cadet grey, with a military dash of braid on epaulettes andcuff; the entire costume was perfect in its harmonious lines, andadmirably adapted to the girlish yet stately figure. Delaven, lookingat her, thought that in all the glories of the Parisian days he hadnever seen la belle Marquise more delightful to the eye than on thatoft-to-be-remembered September morning.

  She was unusually silent as they walked along the avenue, but her eyeswere busy and apparently pleased at the prospect before her, and whenthey reached the front of the house she halted, surveyed the wholeplace critically, from the lazy wash of the river landing to the greatpillars of the veranda, and drew a little breath of content.

  "Just what I expected," she remarked, in reply to his question. "Ihope the river is not too shallow. Can we go in? I should like to, butnot as the owner, please. They need not know of the sale until theLorings choose to tell them."

  Little Raquel had opened the door, very much pleased at their arrival.She informed them "Aunt Chloe laid up with some sort of misery, andBetsey, who was in the cook-house, she see them comen' an' she havesome coffee for them right off," and she was proceeding with otheraffairs of entertainment when Judithe interrupted:

  "No coffee, nothing for me. Now, Doctor, if you want to show me thelibrary; you know we must not linger, this is to be a busy day at theTerrace."

  They had gone through the lower rooms, of which she had little to say.He had shown her the dashing portrait of Marmeduke Loring and givenher a suggestion of the character as heard from Nelse. He had shownher the pretty, seraphic portrait of Gertrude as a little child, andthe fair, handsome face of Tom Loring, as it looked down from thecanvas with a smile for all the world in his genial eyes.

  They had made no further progress when Raquel appeared upon the sceneagain with a request from Aunt Chloe, "Would Mahs Doctor come roun'an' tell her jest what ailed her most, she got so many cu'eouscompercations."

  He followed to see what the complications were, and thus it happenedthat Judithe was left alone to look around her new possessions.

  But she did not look far. After a brief glance about she returned tothe last portrait, studying the frank, handsome face critically.

  "And thou wert the man," she murmured. "Why don't such men bear facesto suit their deeds, that all people may avoid the evil of them? Fair,strong, and appealing!" she continued
, enumerating the points of thepicture, "and a frank, honest gaze, too; but the painter had probablybeen false in that, and idealized the face. Yet I have seen eyes thatwere as honest looking, cover a vile soul, so why not this one?"

  The eyes that were as honest looking were the deep sea-blue eyes shehad described once to Dumaresque, confessing with light mockery theirwitchcraft over her; she thanked God those days were over. She had nowsomething more to dream over than sentimental fancies.

  She heard the quick beat of horse hoofs coming up the avenue andstopping at the door; then, a man's voice:

  "Good morning, Jeff--any of our folks over from the Terrace?"

  "Yes, sah; good mawn, sah; leastwise I jest saw Miss Gertrude go in;they all stayen' ovah at Terrace; I reckon she rode back forsomething. I reckon you find her in library; window's open thah."

  The man's voice replied from the hall, "All right," and he opened thedoor.

  "Good morning, little woman," he said, cheerily, boyishly. "When I sawHector at the gate with the side saddle I thought--"

  What he thought was left unfinished. The slender figure in grey turnedfrom the window, and throwing back the veil with one hand extended theother to him, with an amused smile at his mistake.

  "_Judithe_!" He had crossed the room; he held her hand in both of his;he could not otherwise believe in the reality of her presence. Indreams he had seen her so often thus, with the smile and the light asof golden stars deep in the brown eyes.

  "Welcome to Loringwood, Col. McVeigh," she said, softly.

  "Your welcome could make it the most delightful homecoming of mylife," he said, looking down at her, "if I dared be sure I was quitewelcome to your presence."

  "I am your mother's guest," and she met his gaze with cordialfrankness; "would that be so if--oh, yes, you may be very sure I ampleased to see you home again, and especially pleased to see youhere."

  "You are? Judithe, I beg pardon," as she raised her brows in slightquestion. "I am not accountable this morning, Marquise; with a littletime to recover myself in, I may grow more rational. To find you hereis as much a surprise as though I had met you alone at sea in an openboat."

  "Alone--at sea--in an open boat," she repeated, with a curiousinflection; "but you perceive, Col. McVeigh, the situation is not atall like that. I am under my own roof tree, and a very substantial oneit is," with a comprehensive glance about the imposing apartment; "andyou are the first guest I have welcomed here--I am much pleased thatit happened so." When he stared at this bit of information shecontinued: "I have just made purchase of the estate from your friends,the Lorings--this is my first visit to it, and you are my firstcaller. You perceive I am really your neighbor, Monsieur."

  His eyes were bent on her with mute question; it all seemed soincredible that she should come there at all--to his country, to hishome. He had left France cursing her coquetry; he had, because of her,gone straight to the frontier on his return to America, and lived thelife of camps ever since; he had fancied no woman would ever againhold the sway over him she had held for that one brief season. Yet thegraciousness of her tone, the frank smile in her eyes, and the touchof her hand--the beautiful hand!--

  Delaven came in, and there were more explanations; then, to the regretof Raquel and Betsey, they left for the Terrace without partaking ofthe specially prepared coffee. Col. McVeigh had ridden from the coastwith a party of the state guard, who were going to the riverfortifications. Seeing his own saddle horse at the gate he had letthem go on to the Terrace without him, while he stopped, thinking tofind his mother or sister there.

  The new mistress of Loringwood listened with an interested expressionto this little explanation, and no one would have thought there wasany special motive in leaving the horse tied there on the only road hewould be likely to come, or that his statement that he traveled with aparty of military friends conveyed a distinct message to her of workto be done.

  She did not fail to notice that Col. McVeigh was a much handsomer manthan the lieutenant had been. He appeared taller, heavier--a stalwartsoldier, who had lost none of his impetuousness, and had even gainedin self confidence, but for all that the light of boyhood was in hiseyes as he looked at her, and she, well satisfied that it was so, rodehappily to the Terrace beside him, only smiling when he pointed out aclump of beeches and said he never passed without thinking of thetrees at Fontainbleau.

  "And," with a little mocking glance, "do the violets and forget-me-notsalso grow among the bushes here?"

  "Yes;" and he returned her mocking look with one so deliberate thather eyes dropped, "the forget-me-not is hardy in my land, you know; itlives always if encouraged."

  "Heavens!--will the man propose to me again before we reach the houseor have breakfast?" she thought, and concluded it more wise to dropsuch dangerous topics. Until her expected messenger came she could notquite decide what was to be done or what methods employed.

  "Forget-me-nots, is it?" queried Delaven, in strict confidence withhimself; "oh, but you've been clever, the pair of you, to get so faras forget-me-nots, and no one the wiser;" then aloud he said, "I've anidea that the best beloved man on the plantation this day will be theone who announces your coming, Colonel; so if you'll look after Madamela Marquise--"

  And then he dashed ahead congratulating himself on the way he washelping the Colonel.

  "It's well to have a friend at court," he decided, "and it's myselfmay need all I can get--for pill boxes are a bad balance forplantations, Fitz; faith, they'll be flung to the moon at firsttilt."

  The two left alone had three miles to go and seemed likely to make thejourney in silence. She was a trifle dismayed at Delaven's desertion,and could find no more light words. She attempted some questionsconcerning the blockade, but his replies showed his thoughts wereelsewhere.

  "It is no use," he said, abruptly. "I have only forty-eight hours toremain; I may not see you again for a year, perhaps, never, for I goat once to the front. There is only one thought in my mind, and youknow what it is."

  "To conquer the Yankees?" she hazarded.

  "No, to conquer some pride or whim of the girl who confessed once thatshe loved me."

  "Take my advice, Monsieur," she said with a cool little smile. "Nodoubt you have been fortunate enough to hear those words manytimes--I should think it quite probable," and she let her eyes restapprovingly for a moment on his face; "but it is well to considerthe girls who make those avowals before you place full credence onthe statement--not that they _always_ mean to deceive," she amended,"but those three words have a most peculiar fascination forgirlhood--they like to use them even when they do not comprehendthe meaning."

  He shook his head as he looked at her.

  "It is no use, Madame la Marquise," he said, and the ardent eyes mether own and made her conscious of a sudden fear. "You reason it outvery well--philosophy is one of your hobbies, isn't it? I alwaysdetested women with hobbies--the strong-minded woman who reasonsinstead of feeling; and now you are revenging the whole army of themby making me feel beyond reason. But you shan't evade me by suchtactics. Do you remember what your last spoken words to me were, threeyears ago?"

  Her face paled a little, she lifted the bridle to urge her horseonward, but he laid his hand on her wrist.

  "No, pardon me, but I must speak to you--day and night I have thoughtof them, and now that you are here--oh, I know you sent me away--thatis, you hid from me; and why, Judithe? I believe on my soul it wasbecause you meant those words when you said: '_I love you now, andfrom the first moment you ever looked at me!_' I told myself at first,when I left France, that it was all falsehood, coquetry--but I couldnot keep that belief, for the words rang too true--you thought youwere going over that bank to death, and all your heart was in yourvoice and your eyes. That moment has come back to me a thousand timessince; has been with me in the thick of battle, singing through myears as the bullets whistled past. '_I love you now, and from thefirst moment you ever looked at me._' It is no use to pretend you didnot mean those words then. I know in my heart yo
u did. You were boundin some way, no doubt, and fancied you had no right to say them. Theannouncement of your engagement suggested that. But you are free now,or you would not be here, and I must be heard."

  "Be satisfied then," she replied, indifferently, though her handtrembled on the bridle, "you perceive you have, thanks to yourstronger arm, an audience of one."

  "You are angry at my presumption--angry at the advantage I have takenof the situation?" he asked. "I grant you are right; but remember, itis now or perhaps never with me; and it is the presumption of love--awoman should forgive that."

  "They usually do, Monsieur," she replied, with a little shrug andglance of amusement. For one bewildered instant she had lost controlof herself, and had only the desire to flee; but it was all over now,she remembered another point to be made in the game--something topostpone the finale until she had seen Pierson.

  "It is not just to me," he said, meeting her mocking glance with onethat was steadfast and determined. "However your sentiments havechanged, I know you cared for me that day, as I have cared for youever since, and now that you have come here--to my own country, to mymother's house, I surely may ask this one question: Why did you acceptthe love I offered, and then toss it away almost in the same breath?"

  "I may reply by another question," she said, coolly. "What right hadyou to make any offers of love to me at any time? What right have younow?"

  "What right?"

  "Yes; does your betrothed approve? Is that another of the freeinstitutions in your land of liberties?"

  "What do you mean?--my betrothed?"

  "Your betrothed," she said, and nodded her head with that same coollittle smile. "I heard her name that evening of the drive you rememberso well; our friend, the Countess Helene, mentioned it to me--possiblyfor fear my very susceptible heart might be won by your protection ofus," and she glanced at him again, mockingly. "You had forgotten tomention it to me, but it really does not matter, I have learned sincethen that gentlemen absolutely cannot go around reciting the lists offormer conquests--it is too apt to prevent the acquisition of newones. I did not realize it then--there were so many things I could notrealize; and I felt piqued at your silence; but," with an expressivelittle gesture and a bright smile, "I am no longer so. I come to yourhome; I clasp hands with you; I meet your bride-elect, MissLoring--she is remarkably pretty, Monsieur, and I am quite preparedto dance at your wedding; therefore--"

  "Marquise, on my honor as a man," he did not see the scornful light inher eyes as he spoke of his honor; "there has never been a word oflove between Gertrude Loring and myself; it is nothing but familygossip dating from the time we were children, and encouraged by heruncle for reasons entirely financial. We have both ignored it. We areall fond of her, and I believe my mother at one time did hope it wouldbe so arranged, but I hope she wins a better fellow than myself; shecares no more for me than I for her."

  They had turned into the Terrace grounds. Evilena was running out tomeet them. She was so close now she could hear what he said if it werenot for her own swiftness.

  "Judithe! One word, a look; you believe me?"

  She said nothing, but she did flash one meaning glance at him, andthen his sister was at the stirrup and he swung out of the saddle tokiss her.