by Anthology
"What!" Rebecca exclaimed. "Will he be livin' in one time an' we be livin' in another--both at the same--" She stopped. What was she saying!
"No--no!" replied Copernicus. "He'll go on livin'. That's what he will do. We'll go on havin' lived. Or to put it different--we have gone on livin' after we get back six years--to 1892. Ye see, we really have past all the six years--so the's no harm in it. Milliken won't be hurt."
Rebecca glanced at Phoebe, in whose face she found her own perplexity reflected. Then, throwing out her hands, as though pushing away her crowding mental obstructions, she cried:
"There--there! I can't get the hang of it. It's too much for me!"
"Oh, when you've done it once it'll be all easy and clear," said Droop, soothingly.
Phoebe looked hopefully into his face.
"Will you take us, Mr. Droop?" she asked.
"Oh, I s'pose I'll hev to."
"An' only unwind six years?"
"Yes--jest six years."
She jumped up excitedly.
"Then I'll be off to my packin'!"
She ran to the door and, pausing here, turned again to their visitor.
"Can we start to-night, Mr. Droop?"
"Yes, indeed!" he replied. "The sooner the better."
"That's splendid!" she cried, and ran quickly up the stairs.
The two older people sat for a while in melancholy silence, looking down. Each had hoped for more than this. Copernicus tried to convince himself that the profit from the cough syrup would comfort him for his disappointment. Rebecca dismissed with a sigh the dreams which she had allowed herself to entertain--those bright fictions centering on Joe Chandler--not the subdued old bachelor of 1898, but the jolly young fellow of the famous Centennial year.
At length Rebecca looked up and said:
"After all, Mr. Droop, come to think of it, you've no call to take us with ye. I can't do ye any good--goin' back only six years."
"Yes ye can," said Droop. "I'll need somebody to help me keep house in the Panchronicon. I ain't no hand at cookin' an' all, an' besides, it'll be mighty lonely without anybody in there."
"Well," she rejoined, rising, "I'll jest go up an' finish my packin'."
"An' I'll go tend to mine."
As they parted at the front door, it was arranged that Droop was to bring a wheelbarrow after supper and transport the sisters' belongings, preparatory to their departure.
The rest of the day was spent in preparation for the momentous voyage. Phoebe went to the little bank at Peltonville station and withdrew the entire savings of herself and sister, much to the astonishment and concern of the cashier. She walked all the way to the bank and back alone, for it was obviously necessary to avoid inconvenient questions.
When the two sisters stood in their little dining-room with the heap of greenbacks on the table before them, Rebecca was attacked by another conscientious scruple.
"I don't hardly know as we're doin' right, Phoebe," she said, shaking her head dubiously. "When we get back to 1892 we'd ought to find some money in the bank already. Ef we hev this with us, too, seems to me we'll hev more'n we're entitled to. Ain't it a good deal like cheatin' the bank?"
"Mercy, no!" Phoebe exclaimed, pettishly. "You're forever raisin' some trouble like that! Ain't this our money?"
"Yes--but----"
"Well, then, what's the use o' talkin' 'bout it? Just wait till we can mention your trouble to Mr. Droop. He'll have a good answer for you."
"But s'posin' he can't answer it?" Rebecca insisted.
"Well, if he can't we can give back the difference to the bank."
So saying, Phoebe took her share of the bills and quickly left the room.
"I've got lots of things to do before night," she remarked.
At promptly half-past nine all the lights in the house were extinguished, and the two sisters sat together in the dark parlor awaiting Copernicus. It was Rebecca who had insisted on putting out the lights.
"Ef folks was to see lights here so late in the night," she said, "they'd suspicion somethin' an' they might even call in."
Phoebe admitted the justness of this reasoning, and they had both directed every endeavor to completing all their arrangements before their accustomed bed-time.
It was not long after this that a stealthy step was heard on the gravel path and Phoebe hurried to the door. Copernicus came in with a low word of greeting and followed the ghostly shadow of his hostess into the parlor.
The three stood together in the dark and conversed in an undertone, like so many conspirators surrounded by spies.
"Hev ye got everythin' ready?" Droop asked.
"Yes," said Phoebe. "The's only two little trunks for you. Did you bring the wheelbarrow?"
"Yep--I left it outside the gate. 'Twould hev made a lot of noise on the gravel inside."
"That's right," said Phoebe. "I guess you'll not have any trouble to carry both o' those trunks at once. We haven't packed only a few things, 'cause I expect we'll find all our old duds ready for us in 1892, won't we?"
"Why, 'f course," said Droop.
"But how 'bout linen--sheets an' table-cloths an' all?" said Rebecca. "We'll need some o' them on the trip, won't we?"
"I've got a hull slew o' them things in the Panchronicon," said Copernicus. "Ye won't hev to bother a bit about sech things."
"How long do you s'pose it'll take to make the trip," asked Phoebe. "I mean by the clock? We won't have to do any washing on the way, will we?"
"I don't see how we can," Rebecca broke in. "The's not a blessed tub on the hull machine."
"No, no," said Droop, reassuringly. "We'll make a bee-line for the pole, an' we'll go 'bout three times as fast as a lightnin' express train. We'd ought to reach there in about twenty-four hours, I guess. Then we'll take it easy cuttin' meridians, so's not to suffer from side weight, an'----"
"Side weight!" exclaimed the two women together.
"Yes," said Droop. "That's a complaint ye get ef ye unwind the time too fast. Ye see, growin' young isn't a thing folks is used to, an' it disgrummages the hull constitution ef ye grow young too fast. Well, 's I was a-sayin', I guess it'll take 'bout eighteen hours by the clock to cut back six years. Thet's by the clock, ye understand. As a matter of fact, of course, we'll be just six years less'n no time in finishin' the trip."
"Well," said Phoebe, briskly, "that's no kind o' reason fer dawdlin' about it now. Let's be startin'."
"Where's the trunks?" said Droop.
The trunks were pointed out, and with very little trouble Copernicus put them onto the barrow. He then came to the door for his last instructions.
"'S anythin' more?" he asked.
"No," said Rebecca. "We'll bring on our special duds in our arms. We'll wait a spell an' come on separate."
The door was carefully closed and they soon heard the slight creak of the weighted wheel as Droop set off with the trunks for Burnham's swamp.
"Now, then," said Phoebe, bustling into the parlor, "let's get our things all together ready to start. Have ye got your satchel with the money in it?"
Rebecca gently slapped a black leather bag hanging at her side.
"Here 'tis," she said.
"Let's see," Phoebe went on. "Here's my box with the letters an' miniature, here's the box with the jewelry, an' here's that book Mrs. Bolton gave me about Bacon writin' Shakespeare."
"Whatever air ye takin' that old book fer, Phoebe?"
"Why, to read on the train--I mean on the way, ye know. We'll likely find it pretty pokey in that one room all day."
"I don't know what ye mean by 'all day,'" Rebecca exclaimed in a discouraged tone. "So far's I see, th'ain't goin' to be any days. What'll it feel like--livin' backward that way? D'ye guess it'll make us feel sick, like ridin' backward in the cars?"
"Don't ask me," Phoebe exclaimed, despairingly. "'F I knew what 'twas like, perhaps I wouldn't feel so like goin'."
She straightened herself suddenly and stood rigid.
"Hark!" she exclaimed
. "Is that Mr. Droop comin' back, d'you s'pose?"
There were distinctly audible footsteps on the path.
Phoebe came out into the hall on tiptoe and stood beside her sister.
There was a knock on the door. The two sisters gripped each other's arms excitedly.
"'Taint Copernicus!" Rebecca whispered very low.
The knock was repeated; rather louder this time. Then--
"Miss Wise--Miss Wise--are ye to home?"
It was a woman's voice.
"Sarah Allen!" Phoebe exclaimed under her breath.
"Whatever shall we do?" Rebecca replied.
"Miss Wise," the voice repeated, and then their visitor knocked again, much more loudly.
"I'll go to the door," exclaimed Phoebe.
"But----"
"I must. She'll raise the whole town if I don't."
So saying, Phoebe walked noisily to the door and unlocked it.
"Is that you, Mis' Allen?" she asked.
The door was opened, and Phoebe found herself face to face with a short, light woman whose white garments shone gray in the night.
"Why, you're up'n dressed!" exclaimed Mrs. Allen. She did not offer to enter, but went on excitedly:
"Miss Phoebe," she said, "d'you know I b'lieve you've ben robbed."
"What!"
"Yes; on'y a minute ago I was a-comin' up the road from M'ria Payson's--you know she's right sick an' I've ben givin' her massidge--an' what sh'd I see but a man comin' out o' your gate with suthin' on his shoulder. I couldn't see who 'twas, an' he was so quiet an' sneaky without a light that I jest slipped behind a tree. You know I've ben dreadful skeery ever sence Tom was brought home with his arm broke after a fight with a strange man in the dark. Well, this man to-night he put the bundle or what not into a wheelbarrow an' set off quiet as a mouse. He went off down that way, an' says I to myself, 'It's a robber ben burglin' at the Wise's house,' says I, an' I come straight here to see ef ye was both murdered or what. Air ye all right? Hez he broken yer door? Hev ye missed anythin'?"
As the little woman paused for breath, Phoebe seized her opportunity.
"Did you say he went off to the north, Mis' Allen?" she said, with feigned excitement.
"Yes."
"Oh, dear--oh, dear!" cried Phoebe, wringing her hands. "Didn't I say I heard a noise--I told you I heard a burglar, Rebecca," she went on, hysterically, turning to her sister.
"Is Miss Rebecca there?" asked Mrs. Allen.
Rebecca came forward in silence. She was quite nonplussed. To tell the truth, Phoebe's sudden outburst was as great a tax upon her nerves as Mrs. Allen's unwelcome visit. Surely Phoebe had said nothing about a burglar! It was Droop that Mrs. Allen had seen--of course it was. She dared not say so in their visitor's presence, but she wondered mightily at Phoebe's apparent perturbation.
Phoebe guessed her sister's mental confusion, and she sought to draw Mrs. Allen's attention to herself to avoid the betrayal of their plans which would certainly follow Rebecca's joining the conversation.
"Mis' Allen," she exclaimed, excitedly, "the's just one thing to be done. Won't you run's quick's ever you can to Si Pray, an' ask him to bring his gun? You won't meet the burglar 'cause he's gone the other way. Rebecca 'nd I'll jest wait here for you an' Si. I'll get some hot water from the kitchen, in case the burglar should come back while you're gone. Oh, please will you do it?"
"Course I will," was the nervous reply. This hint of the possible return of the robbers made an immediate retreat seem very desirable. "I'll go right now. Won't be gone a minute. Lock your door now--quick!"
She turned and sped down the path. She had not reached the gate before Phoebe walked rapidly into the parlor.
"Quick--quick!" she panted, frantically gathering up her belongings. "Get your duds an' come along."
"But what d'you----"
"Come--come--come!" cried Phoebe. "Come quick or they'll all be here. Gun and all!"
With her arm full of bundles, Phoebe rushed back through the hall and out of the front door. Rebecca followed her, drawn along by the fiery momentum of her sister.
"Lock the front door, Rebecca," Phoebe cried. Then, as she reached the gate and found it fastened: "Here, I can't undo the gate. My hands are full. Oh, do hurry, Rebecca! We haven't a minute!"
The elder sister locked the front door and started down the path in such a nervous fever that she left the key in the lock. Half way to the gate she paused.
"Come on--come on!" Phoebe cried, stamping her foot.
"My land!" stammered Rebecca. "I've forgot everythin'!" She started back, running with short, unaccustomed steps.
"My umbrella!" she gasped. "My recipes--my slips!"
Phoebe was speechless with anger and apprehension at this delay, and Rebecca was therefore allowed to re-enter the house without objection.
In a short time she reappeared carrying an umbrella, two flower-pots, and a folded newspaper.
"There!" she panted, as she came up to her sister and opened the gate. "Now I guess I've got everythin'!"
Silently and swiftly the two women sped northward, following the imaginary burglar, while the devoted Mrs. Allen ran breathless in the opposite direction for Si Pray and his gun.
"We'll hev to go more careful here," said Rebecca as they turned into the lane leading down to the swamp.
With many a stumble and some scratches they moved more slowly down the rutted track until at length they reached the point where they were to turn into the swamp.
Here the sisters leaned against the wall to rest and recover breath.
"My goodness, but that was a narrow escape!" murmured Phoebe.
"Yes," said Rebecca, with reproachful sadness; "but I'm afraid you paid a heavy price fer it, Phoebe!"
"What do you mean?"
"Why, 's fur's I could make out, you told Mis' Allen a deliberate wrong story, Phoebe Wise."
"What did I say?" said Phoebe, in shocked surprise.
"You said you hed told me you'd heerd a burglar!"
"Did I say that? Those very words?"
"Why, you know you did."
"Wasn't it a question, Rebecca?" Phoebe insisted. "Didn't I ask you ef I hadn't told you I heard a burglar?"
"No, it was a plain downright wrong story, Phoebe, an' you needn't to try to sneak out of it."
Phoebe was silent for a few moments, and then Rebecca heard her laugh. It was a very little, rippling thing--but it was genuine--there was real light-heartedness behind it.
"Phoebe Wise!" exclaimed Rebecca, "how ken you laugh so? I wouldn't hev the weight of sech a thing on my mind fer a good deal."
"Well, Rebecca," tittered her sister, "I didn't have it on my mind yesterday, did I?"
"Course not--but----"
"An' won't it be yesterday for us mighty soon--yes, an' a heap longer ago than that?"
She laughed again merrily and began to climb over the wall, a proceeding not rendered easier by the various articles in her hands.
A few minutes later the two women had joined Copernicus within his mysterious machine and were standing in the brightly lighted antechamber at the head of the stairs.
"Well--well!" cried Droop, as he caught sight of the two women for the first time in the light. "Where ever did ye get them funny dresses? Why, your sleeves is all puffed out near the shoulders!"
"These are some of our old dresses," said Rebecca. "They was made in 1891, an' we thought they'd prob'bly be more in the fashion back in 1892 when we get there than our newer dresses."
"Never mind our dresses, Mr. Droop," said Phoebe. "Where can we put down all these things? My arms are breakin' off."
"Right here, Cousin Phoebe."
Droop bustled over to the state-rooms, opening both the doors at once.
"Here's a room apiece fer ye. Take yer choice."
"Oh, but where'll you sleep?" said Phoebe. "P'raps Rebecca and I'd better have one room together."
"Not a bit of it," said Droop. "I'll sleep on one o' them settles under the windows.
They're real comfortable."
"Well--just as you say."
The sisters entered their rooms and deposited their bundles, but Phoebe returned at once and called to Droop, who had started down the stairs.
"Mr. Droop, you've got to start right straight off. Mrs. Allen knows 't you've carried off the trunk and she's comin' after us with Si Pray an' a gun."
Just then they heard the loud barking of a dog. He was apparently running rapidly down the lane.
"Sakes alive!" cried Phoebe, in alarm. "Slam to that door, Copernicus Droop! Si has let his dog loose an' he's on your tracks!"
The baying was repeated--now much nearer. Droop clattered frantically down the stairs, and shut the door with a bang. At the next moment a heavy body leaped against it, and a man's voice was heard close at hand.
"Sic um, Touser, sic um! Where is he, boy?"
Up the stairs went Copernicus two steps at a time. He dashed into the anteroom, pale and breathless.
"Lie down on the floor!" he shouted. "Lie down or ye'll get throwed down. I'm agoin' to start her!"
By this time he had opened the engine-room door.
The two women promptly lay flat on their backs on the carpet.
Droop braced himself firmly and had just grasped the starting lever when a cry from Rebecca arrested him.
"Copernicus Droop--hold on!" she cried.
He turned to her, his face full of anxious fear. Rebecca lay on her back with her hands at her sides, but her head was raised stiffly from the floor.
"Copernicus Droop," she said, solemnly, "hev ye brought any rum aboard with ye? 'Cause if ye have I won't----"
She never concluded, for at this moment her head was jerked back sharply against the floor by a tremendous upward leap of the machine.
There was a hissing roar as of a thousand rockets, and even as Rebecca was wondering, half stunned, why she saw so many jumping lights, Si Pray gazed open-mouthed at the ascension of a mysterious dark body apparently aimed at the sky.
The Panchronicon had started.
CHAPTER IV
A CHANGE OF PLAN
It was long after their bed-time and the two sisters were utterly exhausted; but as the mysterious structure within which they lay glided northward between heaven and earth with the speed of a meteor, Rebecca and Phoebe long courted sleep in vain.