The Liberty Girl

by Rena I. Halsey

  CHAPTER XI

  THE RIDE THROUGH THE NOTCH

  Notwithstanding that the inmates of Seven Pillars were neighbored by adisagreeable old lady, as Nathalie had mentally dubbed the occupant ofthe red house, the time passed pleasantly to the girl, although she haddays when she longed to see Helen, to open her heart to her inconfidential mood. But the lonesomeness gradually lessened, occupied asshe was with her manifold household cares, her exploring trips, hervisits to the Sweet-Pea ladies, and the sometime prowl for themysterious _It_. To her satisfaction she soon found that by hurrying alittle over her morning tasks, she not only had time to read to herfriend, and to help Mona at her work, but that she did not have to missher walks.

  She finally succeeded in getting Janet to go with her to the tea-house,and that volatile young woman was so won by the charming personality ofthe invalid, and the sweet patience of Mona, that she not only playedduring her call, but made arrangements to come down twice a week andgive them a musical afternoon, to the great joy of the invalid.

  On one of these days a party of ladies from the Hotel Look-off, out foran afternoon constitutional, dropped in for a rest and a cup of tea.They were so pleased that they told others about these musicalafternoons, so it soon became quite the fashionable thing to drop in atthe Sweet-Pea Tea-House, especially on Wednesdays and Saturdays. Onthese days a score of ladies, old and young, could frequently be seenhaving a social chat over the teacups, while listening to some popularragtime air, or a classic from one of the old composers, while knittingfor the soldiers.

  There had been one unpleasant occurrence that had jarred Nathalieextremely, and that was that Cynthia Loretto, when she learned of theSweet-Pea ladies and the musical afternoons, was quite insistent thatBlue Robin take some of her paintings and etchings down, and hang themup so that they could be seen, in the hope of making a sale.

  Nathalie, at first, had refused to accede to this request, and then shebegan to argue with her conscience, giving for her refusal many reasonsthat only existed in her imagination. Finally, Mrs. Page, with hermotherly intuition, perceiving that her daughter was at war with herbetter self, one day led the conversation to the subject, by saying thatshe thought it was almost pathetic the way Cynthia yearned to make moneyso she could marry Mr. Buddie.

  "You must remember, daughter," she persuaded, after listening to thegirl's objections in regard to the paintings, "that even if you are notattracted to Cynthia, she has feelings, hopes, and disappointments aswell as you. Some day, perhaps, you may be old and alone in the worldwith your living to earn, and will be almost willing to make a bore ofyourself if you can only earn a little money so as to give yourself somepleasure." Nathalie made no reply, but somehow she began to question ifshe were really trying to live up to her motto to be helpful and kind,or was it just a _make-believe_ thing with her, as she called it. Thenext day she reluctantly broached the subject to Miss Whipple, and, toher surprise, found that she would be very pleased to have the paintingsand etchings on the wall. "The room really needs papering," the ladyexplained, "and they will help to hide such disfigurements as stains andtack-holes on the faded paper." This conclusion settled the matter verysatisfactorily to Cynthia, and made Nathalie rejoice that she had, afterall, come out conqueror in her fight with self.

  The girl had begun to wonder why she did not hear from Mrs. Van Vorst asto when her boys were coming, when a letter arrived. To her great joy itannounced that they would be due at the Sugar Hill station the followingSaturday, as they would leave New York in the White Mountain express,probably reaching their destination about seven in the evening.

  Nathalie was somewhat disappointed that the boys were not to go on tothe Littleton station, where Mr. Banker had planned to meet them. Butalas, she could not ask him to come all the way over to the Sugar Hillstation, and then, too, she knew that he and his wife generally tooklittle outings through the mountains every week-end.

  Deeply perplexed, she pondered over the matter with no little anxiety,and then suddenly it came to her that she would see if Miss Whipplewould not let her hire her machine, and then go for the boys herself.She had learned to know the mountain roads in riding with Jakes when hewent to the different hotels to deliver the sweet peas. He had often lether drive, as she had previously learned to handle a car from her manyrides with Grace, and had even secured a license through the insistenceof her friend.

  Hurrying through her work, she hastened down to the tea-house, where shefound the two ladies in a state of unusual excitement, for Jakes, MissWhipple explained, was quite ill, and they were at a loss as to how theywere to get their flowers to the various hotels the following day. Andthe Profile House had sent in a special order, for there was to be somekind of a festivity there that evening, and they wanted the bunches ofsweet peas for prizes.

  "Oh, don't worry over that," cried the girl quickly, as she perceivedtheir distress, "for I can deliver the flowers for you. I can drive andI know the roads, for I have been about so much with Jakes and Mr.Banker."

  After some little hesitation the two ladies consented that Nathalieshould deliver the flowers, insisting, however, in return for herkindness to them, that she should have the car for her own use in theafternoon, to drive to the station for the boys.

  To Nathalie it was quite a new experience, to get up in the cool gray ofearly dawn, dress hurriedly, swallow a hasty breakfast,--her mother wasto act as housekeeper for the day,--and then hurry down to thetea-house. It did not take her long to load the car with its floweryburden, and then she was speeding through Sugar Hill village, and on tothe Long Green Path, as she called the road through the woods that ledto Seven Pillars and Franconia. The air was so cool from the moisture ofthe night dew that still lay in glistening gems and silvery cobwebs onthe hilly greens, the leaves, ferns, and wild flowers, and bracing fromthe ozone of the mountain breezes that heralded the new-born day, thatthe girl's pulses throbbed with buoyant exhilaration.

  There was a moment's stop at Seven Pillars for Janet, who had consentedto accompany her, and then they were off, Nathalie happily waving herhand to Sam as he came through the pasture with the cows. A few momentslater they were whirling past Roslinwood Farm, with its big white barn,and then past a long, low, white-gabled, red-chimneyed building, withthe old-time hostelry sign, "Peckett's on Sugar Hill," swinging from itsporte-cochere, with its flower-garden, riotous with many-colored blooms,across the road, almost under the shadow of Garnet's sloping meadow.

  Now they were flying down the long sloping hill, around the tiny whiteschoolhouse at the cross-roads, and then they were passing Garnet'sgrassy hillside, as it nodded a greeting to its taller fellows, theFranconia Range, that towered on the girls' right. Its verdant meadowswere squared with cobble-stone ledges, and awave with the glossy plumageof stately trees, as it rose upward from the road, until its slope waslost in a tangle of feathery treetops which crowned its summit like acap of green.

  "The Echoes," a homey little hotel nestling at the base of the greenhill, with its square white tower, peeped picturesquely from theprotecting sweep of graceful willows and silvery poplars. Here they hada magnificent view of the mountains as they rose from their mists ofgray, their rugged crests, spires, and domes sharply outlined against aglorious riot of sunrise color.

  Lafayette, the king of the range, towered his grizzly head in blue-hazedgrandeur far upward, standing like some giant up from the mists thatcovered the valleys below like a silver lake, while Lincoln's roundedsummit, with its twin slides, was almost hidden by trailing wreaths ofpearly gray. The gaps between the Sleeping Infant, sharp-peakedGarfield, the North and South Twins, and the Sleeping Giant, were sothickly silvered with mist that the peaks of these mountains looked likeislets of green on a shimmering gray sea, with their tops scarfed withpink and violet streaks, that floated mistily against the goldensplendor, reflected from the crimson-hued ball in the east.

  Directly before them rose the undulating slope of Breakneck Hill, bowingin gen
tle humility to the more rugged beauty of the lofty rangeopposite, while between the widening gap, far in the distance, loomedthe Presidential Range, their tops white-wreathed with cloud. MountWashington, with majestic stateliness, soared far above his comrades,while the smaller mountains below and on the left, scattered here andthere through the cleft between the two ranges, gleamed gray, purple,and pink, as they peered at them from their hoods of gray.

  It was a swift whirl down the half-mile hill, and then they were passingthrough the little mountain village of Franconia, with its whitecottages, its stone sidewalks, its beautiful Gale River, with itsbush-fringed banks and little stone tower, surrounded by level stretchesof green pasture-land, merging into the low foothills that skirted thehigher range. It was a wonderful ride through that five-mile Notch, inthe glint of the rose-tipped sunlight, with the ever-changing flash fromone mountain-picture to another, each one gripping you with the witcheryof the illusive charm of Nature in her varying moods, now frolicsome,gay, or blithe, or strangely stilled in the grandeur of a sunrise calm.

  As the girl came down the steps of the Profile House, her firststopping-place, she paused a moment and peered up at Eagle Cliff, aprecipitous wall of rock opposite, rising to the height of fifteenhundred feet above the road. It was thickly set with evergreens,climbing birches, maples, and spruces, and intermingled with patches ofa softer green, from where purple-tinted bits of rock, like giant'seyes, looked down upon the wayfarers that traversed the road beneath.

  Nathalie had heard that the cliff had received its name from the "Arabsof the air," which at one time had lodged in its airy heights. Butevidently they had long since departed, and after a disappointed glance,as her eyes swept the tall steeps, she rejoined Janet in the car, andwas soon guiding it through the green-wooded road to her nexthalting-place, some few miles beyond.

  This was the Flume House, a long, low, yellow building, grouped aboutwith mountain crags,--the gateway to the Flume, a remarkable fissure inLiberty Mountain, over fifty feet deep, and several hundred long, wherean ice-cold cascade dashed with snowy spray, to flow in more quiet moodover ledges of granite rocks between perpendicular walls.

  After leaving their flowers at the office the girls started on theirhomeward way. The distance was soon traversed as they chattered of thescene before them, sometimes hushed into stillness by the suddensurprise of some wonderful trick of Nature as they flew swiftly past.

  As they reached the little schoolhouse at the crossroads Janet descendedfrom the car to walk up the hill to the house, while Nathalie continuedon her way. She had soon passed the artist's bungalow, with its studio,on her left, and Hildreth's maple-sugar farm, with its big barn, comingout shortly at the little red Episcopal church, with the deserted,falling-to-pieces hotel, the Marimonte, just beyond on a knoll.

  It did not take her long to ascend the long hilly slope to the HotelLook-off, where a basket of sweet peas were left, and then she had swungher car around and was speeding down the declivity to the Sunset HillHouse, where she again brought her car to a halt.

  As she neared the big entrance-door, heavily burdened with her flowers,she came face to face with her two New York friends, who were saunteringcarelessly from the office, evidently having lingered over a latebreakfast. As the girl sighted the familiar faces she forgot theirapparent slight of a few days before and nodded pleasantly, her cheeksdimpling with pleasure. But, to her surprise, a rigid stare was theironly response to her greeting, and, with a sudden start of shockeddismay, the girl hastened past them into the office, where she wasrelieved of her flowers by one of the bell-boys.

  Smarting from the rankle of the insult, but still dazed at thesuddenness of it, she walked slowly down to the car and mechanicallystepped into it. As she glided down the road she sat stiff and erect,her mind apparently on the steering-wheel, although in reality hersenses were in a maze of dumb bewilderment.

  A half-hour later, after running the car into the stable, for she was touse it again later, she made her way into the house, up to her room, andto her closet. Here, with her face buried in the blackness of hangingskirts and coats, she stood silently for a few moments, trying to argueherself out of the hurt feeling that would not be downed.

  "Oh, what a little ninny I am," she exclaimed at last. "_What do I care_if they did give me the 'go by,' as Dick says." She gave a half laugh,that quickly merged into a long sigh as the thought came, that, afterall, the girls had not really hurt her as much as they had hurtthemselves. "No, I will not allow myself," she closed her mouthdeterminedly, "to be so small as to let it hurt me any more."

  She had a very restful afternoon, with a good long nap, and a nice timereading out in the hammock, and then, a little before six, she set outon her ride to the station in a tense state of expectancy, for she wasanxious to see her Liberty boys, as she had elected to call them.

  The drive was a delightful one after the burden and heat of the day, andshe bowled swiftly along, slackening her speed every now and then toadmire an unusually fine landscape view, or the golden, violet-tintedclouds that drifted up from the west. She had just turned into her lastlap, as she called it, for she knew that she must be very near thestation, when, with a sudden skidding motion, her car came to astandstill. She got out and cranked it, but although there was plenty ofgasoline still on hand, it refused to go. She poked about, here andthere, to see what had caused the stoppage, but although she cleaned outher carburetor and saw that her spark-plugs were all right, she failedto discover what was wrong. Her heart began to beat feverishly, for shewas well aware that, although she could drive a car, in reality she knewlittle about its mechanism, and therefore could not remedy any veryserious trouble. She got down and crawled under the car, to examinefirst one part and then another, but alas! it was exasperatinglyuseless, for she could see nothing wrong, and she finally crawled outagain, covered with dust and grime. At this moment she heard thefar-distant whistle of an oncoming locomotive, realizing with a pang ofdespair, that it was the White Mountain express, and that she would notbe at the station to meet the boys.

  Suddenly her face gleamed hopefully, for at that moment she heard thenear hum of an automobile, and the next second saw it whirl around thecurve in the road. "Oh, perhaps it will be a man who can help me,"quickly flashed through her mind, as she peered intently at the nearingcar. And then she almost laughed aloud from sheer joy, for, yes, the carwas driven by a man, who, with one quick glance at the girl's flushedface, and the stranded vehicle, brought his car to a standstill andjumped quickly out.

  As the man came towards the girl, who had begun to pleadingly explainher mishap, and the hurry she was in, Nathalie caught her breath with astartled gasp, as she suddenly was made aware that he was the bold-eyedman who had accosted her in the post-office a week or so before, and whohad spoken to her near the cemetery. But she was so distressed andfearful that she would miss the boys--poor little things, what wouldthey do if there was no one there to meet them!--that this fact wassubmerged in the greatness of her need.

  In a moment or so she had regained her customary poise, as the youngman, after a cursory glance over the machine, discovered what was wrong.Ah, it was a short-circuit. With a wrench he took from his pocket, hesoon adjusted the difficulty, and then turned smilingly towards thegirl, and with another of his bold stares assured her that her car wasall right.

  Nathalie involuntarily stepped back, and then, half ashamed of hertimidity when the man had been so kind, cried hastily: "Oh, I am so muchobliged to you! I do not know what I should have done, if you had notcome along. Thank you, very much," she ended abruptly, then, pleadingthat she must hurry, she cranked her car, and, with a little stiff bow,stepped into it, and a moment later was whirling down the road.

  But she had not gotten rid of her helper as quickly as she thought, forit was only a second, as it seemed to her, when, on turning her head asshe heard the throb of a machine in her rear, she saw, with a suddenqualm of fear, that the man was following her. "Oh why does he do that?"she thought in nervous appreh
ension. "Yes, he must be following me," shementally decided, "for he was going in the opposite direction when Ihailed him."

  But sensibly determining to pay no attention to him, she kept on herway, although an aggravating dread assailed her that she could notaccount for, that the man might waylay, and try to rob her, the boldglance of his eyes having filled her with a feeling of distrust.

  Ah, she was at the station. As she glided up to the little woodenplatform she peered anxiously around, but no one was in sight. Bringingher car to a halt, she jumped hastily out and scurried around to theother side of the platform, only to see the ticket-agent locking up thewaiting-room, as he prepared to depart on his nightly journey home, asthe station was only open for certain trains.

  "Did you see any little boys get off the White Mountain express?"inquired the girl breathlessly.

  "Why, yes," replied the man, as he slipped the door-key into his pocket,"I saw three,--no, four boys. They waited around here for some time, andthen they went away. They looked like foreigners; one little chap musthave been an Italian, for he carried a violin under his arm, and wore aqueer embroidered vest."

  "Did you notice in what direction they went?" cried the girl, while achilled feeling swept over her as to the fate of the boys. Oh, supposethey should get lost in those mountain woods!

  No, the man had not noticed, and Nathalie with a dejected attitude,turned away, nervously wondering what to do, and where to look. Well,she must do something, for those boys must have been the ones Mrs. VanVorst had sent to her. Once more she was in her car, and then, in suddendesperation, she determined to try every road in succession,--for therewere several leading from the station,--until she found them, for surelythey could not have gone very far, as they were walking. Buoyed withthis thought, she plunged into the graying shadows of the road nearestto her, dimly conscious that the bold-eyed man in the automobile, whohad been circling around the little square of green in front of thestation, was close behind her.