CHAPTER XXXVIII
CICELY READS BY MOONLIGHT
Just before Cicely reached the back piazza, La Fleur came out of thekitchen door with the telegram in her hand.
"Do you know," she said, "if Mr. Haverley has come home, and where I canfind him? Here is a message for him, and I have been looking for him,high and low."
"A telegram!" exclaimed Cicely. "He is at the barn. I will take it tohim. I can get there sooner than you can, La Fleur," and without furtherword, she took the yellow missive and ran with it toward the barn. Shemet Ralph half way, and stood by him while he read the message.
"I hope," she cried as she looked into his pale face, "that nothing hashappened to Miriam."
"Read that," he said, his voice trembling. "Do you suppose--" but hecould not utter the words that were in his mind.
Cicely seized the telegram and eagerly read it. She was on the point ofscreaming, but checked herself.
"How terrible!" she exclaimed. "But what can it mean? It is from MissPanney. Oh! I think it is wicked to send a message like that, which doesnot tell you what has happened."
"It must be Miriam," cried Ralph. "I must go instantly," and at the topof his voice he shouted for Mike. The man soon appeared, running.
"Mike!" exclaimed Ralph, "there has been an accident, something hashappened to Miss Miriam. I must go instantly to Barport. I must take thenext train from Thorbury. Put the horse to the gig as quickly as you can.You must go with me."
With a face expressing the deepest concern, Mike stood looking at theyoung man.
"Don't stop for a minute," cried Ralph, in great excitement. "Dropeverything. Take the horse, no matter what he has been doing; he can gofaster than the mare. I shall be ready in five minutes!"
"Mr. Hav'ley," said Mike, "there ain't no down train stops at Thorburyafter the seven-ten, and it's past seven now. That train'll be gonebefore I can git hitched up."
"No train tonight!" Ralph almost yelled, "that cannot be. I do notbelieve it."
"Now look here, Mr. Hav'ley," said Mike, "I wouldn't tell you nothin'that wasn't so, 'specially at a time like this. But I've been driving toThorbury trains an' from 'em, for years and years. There's a late train'bout ten o'clock, but it's a through express and don't stop."
"I must take that train," cried Ralph, "what is the nearest station whereit does stop?"
"There ain't none nearer than the Junction, and that's sixteen miles up,an' a dreadful road. I once druv there in the daytime, an' it tuk me fourhours, an' if you went to-night you couldn't get there afore daylight."
"Why don't you go to Thorbury and telegraph?" asked Cicely, who was nowalmost as pale as Ralph. "Then you could find out exactly what hashappened."
"Oh, I must go, I must go," said Ralph; "but I shall telegraph. I shallgo to Thorbury instantly, and get on as soon as I can."
Mike stood looking on the ground.
"Mr. Hav'ley," he said, as the young man was about to hurry to the house,"tain't no use, the telegraph office is shet up, right after that downtrain passes."
"It is barbarous!" exclaimed Ralph. "I will go anyway. I will find theoperator."
"Mr. Hav'ley," said Mike, "don't you go an' do that. You is tremblin'like a asp. You'll be struck down sick if you go on so. There's a train aquarter of six in the mornin', an' I'll git you over to that. If you goesto Thorbury, you won't be fit to travel in the mornin', an' you won't beno good when you gits there."
Tears were now on Cicely's cheeks, in spite of her efforts torestrain herself.
"He is right, Mr. Ralph," she said. "I think it will be dreadful for youto be in Thorbury all night, and most likely for no good. It will be agreat deal better to leave here early in the morning and go straight toBarport. But let us go into the house and talk to mother. After all, itmay not be Miriam. You cannot tell what it is. It is a cruel message."
Mrs. Drane was greatly shocked, but she agreed with her daughter that itwould not be wise for Ralph to go to Thorbury until he could start forBarport. La Fleur was somewhat frightened when she found that her wilfuldelay of the telegram might occasion Mr. Haverley an harassing andanxious night in Thorbury, and was urgent in her endeavors to quiet himand persuade him to remain at home until morning. But it was not untilCicely had put in her last plea that the young man consented to give uphis intention of going in search of the telegraph operator.
"Mr. Ralph," said she, "don't you think it would be awful if you were tosend a message and get a bad answer to it, and have to stay there byyourself until the morning? I cannot bear to think of it; and telegraphicmessages are always so hard and cruel. If I were you, I would rather gostraight on and find out everything for myself."
Ralph looked down at her and at the tears upon her cheeks.
"I will do that," he said, and taking her hand, he pressed it thankfully.
Every preparation and arrangement was made for an early start, and Ralphwandered in and out of the house, impatient as a wild beast to breakaway and be gone. Cicely, whose soul was full of his sorrow, went out tohim on the piazza, where he stood, looking at the late moon rising abovethe treetops.
"What a different man I should be," he said, "if I could think thatMiriam was standing on the seashore and looking at that moon."
Cicely longed to comfort him, but she could not say anything which wouldseem to have reason in it. She had tried to think that it might bepossible that the despatch might not concern Miriam, but she could notdo it. If it had been necessary to send a despatch and Miriam had beenalive and well, it would have been from her that the despatch would havecome. Cicely's soul was sick with sorrow and with dread, not only forthe brother, but for herself, for she and Miriam were now fast friends.But she controlled herself, and looking up with a smile, said, "Whattime is it?"
Ralph took out his watch and held the face of it toward the moon, whichwas but little past the full.
"It is a quarter to nine," he said.
"Well, then," said she, "I will ask Miriam, when I see her, if she waslooking at the moon at this time."
"Do you believe," exclaimed Ralph, turning suddenly so that they stoodface to face, "do you truly believe that we shall ever see her again?"
The question was so abrupt that Cicely was taken unawares. She raised herface toward the eager eyes bent upon her, but the courageous words shewished to utter would not come, and she drooped her head. With a swiftmovement, Ralph put his two hands upon her cheeks and gently raised herface. He need not have looked at her, for the warm tears ran down uponhis hands.
"You do not," he said; and as he gazed down upon her, her face becamedim. For the first time since his boyhood, tears filled his eyes.
At a quick sound of hoofs and wheels, both started; and the nextmoment the telegraph boy drove up close to the railing and held up ayellow envelope.
"One dollar for delivery," said he; "that's night rates. This come jestas the office was shetting up, and Mr. Martin said I'd got to deliver itto-night; but I couldn't come till the moon was up."
Cicely, who was nearer, seized the telegram before Ralph could get it.
"Drive round to the back of the house," she said to the boy, "and I willbring you the money."
She held the telegram, though Ralph had seized it.
"Don't be too quick," she said, "don't be too quick. There, you will tearit in half. Let me open it for you."
She deftly drew the envelope from his hand, and spread the telegram onthe broad rail of the piazza, on which the moon shone full. Instantlytheir heads were close together.
"I cannot read it," groaned Ralph; "my eyes are--"
"I can," interrupted Cicely, and she read aloud the message, whichran thus,--
"Fear news of accident may trouble you. We are all well. Have written.Miriam Haverley."
Ralph started back and stood upright, as if some one had shouted to himfrom the sky. He said not one word, but Cicely gave a cry of joy. Ralphturned toward her, and as he saw her face, irradiated by the moonlightand her sudden happiness, he looked
down upon her for one moment, andthen his arms were outstretched toward her; but, quick as was his motion,her thought was quicker, and before he could touch her, she had dartedback with the telegram in her hand.
"I will show this to mother," she cried, and was in the house inan instant.
La Fleur was in the hall, where for some time she had been quietlystanding, looking out upon the moonlight. From her position, which wasnot a conspicuous one, at the door of the enclosed stairway, she had beenable to keep her eyes upon Ralph and Cicely; and held herself ready,should she hear Mrs. Drane coming down the stairs, to go up and engageher in a consultation in regard to domestic arrangements. She had knownof the arrival of the telegraph boy, had seen what followed, and nowlistened with rapt delight to Cicely's almost breathless announcement ofthe joyful news.
After the girl went upstairs, La Fleur walked away; there was no need forher to stand guard any longer.
"It isn't only the telegram," she said to herself, "that makes her faceshine and her voice quiver like that." Then she went out to congratulateMr. Haverley on the news from his sister. But the young man was notthere; his soul was too full for the restraints of a house or a roof, andhe had gone out, bareheaded, into the moonlight to be alone with hishappiness and to try to understand it.
When Mrs. Drane returned to her room, having gone down at her daughter'srequest to pay the telegraph messenger, she found her daughter lying on acouch, her face wet with tears. But in ten minutes Cicely was sitting upand chattering gayly. The good lady was rejoiced to know that there wasno foundation for the evils they had feared, but she could not understandwhy her daughter, usually a cool-headed little thing and used toself-control, should be so affected by the news. And in the morning shewas positively frightened when Cicely informed her that she had not slepta wink all night.
Mrs. Drane had not seen Ralph's face when he stretched out his armstoward her daughter.
The Girl at Cobhurst Page 38