Elsie Dinsmore

by Martha Finley

  CHAPTER FIFTH

  "Man is unjust, but God is just; and finally justice Triumphs." --LONGFELLOW'S _Evangeline_.

  "How disappointment tracks The steps of hope!" --MISS LANDON.

  One afternoon, the next week after the Carringtons had left, theyounger members of the family, Arthur, Elsie, Walter and Enna, weresetting out to take a walk, when Elsie, seeing a gold chain dependingfrom the pocket of Arthur's jacket, exclaimed:

  "O Arthur! how _could_ you take grandpa's watch? _Do_ put it away, foryou will be almost sure to injure it."

  "Hold your tongue, Elsie; I'll do as I please," was the politerejoinder.

  "But, Arthur, you _know_ that grandpa would never let you take it. Ihave often heard him say that it was very valuable, for it was seldomthat so good a one could be had at any price; and I know that he paid agreat deal for it."

  "Well, if he prizes it so, he needn't have left it lying on his table,and so I'll just teach him a lesson; it's about time he learnt to becareful."

  "O Arthur! do put it away," pleaded Elsie, "if anything should happento it, what will grandpa say? I know he will be very angry, and ask usall who did it; and you know I cannot tell a lie, and if he asks me ifit was you, I cannot say no."

  "Yes, I'll trust you for telling tales," replied Arthur, sneeringly;"but if you do, I'll pay you for it."

  He ran down the avenue as he spoke, Walter and Enna following, andElsie slowly bringing up the rear, looking the picture of distress, forshe knew not what to do, seeing that Arthur would not listen to herremonstrances, and, as often happened, all the older members of thefamily were out, and thus there was no authority that could be appealedto in time to prevent the mischief which she had every reason to fearwould be done. Once she thought of turning back, that she might escapethe necessity of being a witness in the case; but, remembering that herfather told her she must walk with the others that afternoon, and alsothat, as she had already seen the watch in Arthur's possession, hertestimony would be sufficient to convict him even if she saw no more,she gave up the idea, and hurried on, with the faint hope that shemight be able to induce Arthur to refrain from indulging in such sportsas would be likely to endanger the watch; or else to give it into hercharge. At any other time she would have trembled at the thought oftouching it; but now she felt so sure it would be safer with her thanwith him, that she would gladly have taken the responsibility.

  The walk was far from being a pleasure that afternoon; the boys ran sofast that it quite put her out of breath to keep up with them; and thenevery little while Arthur would cut some caper that made her tremblefor the watch; answering her entreaties that he would either give itinto her care or walk along quietly, with sneers and taunts, anddeclarations of his determination to do just exactly as he pleased, andnot be ruled by her.

  But at length, while he was in the act of climbing a tree, the watchdropped from his pocket and fell to the ground, striking withconsiderable force.

  Elsie uttered a scream, and Arthur, now thoroughly frightened himself,jumped down and picked it up.

  The crystal was broken, the back dented, and how much the works wereinjured they could not tell; but it had ceased to run.

  "O Arthur! see what you've done!" exclaimed Walter.

  "What will papa say?" said Enna; while Elsie stood pale and trembling,not speaking a word.

  "You hush!" exclaimed Arthur fiercely. "I'll tell you what, if any ofyou dare to tell of me, I'll make you sorry for it to the last day ofyour life. Do you hear?"

  The question was addressed to Elsie in a tone of defiance.

  "Arthur," said she, "grandpa will know that _somebody_ did it, andsurely you would not wish an innocent person to be punished for _your_fault."

  "I don't care _who_ gets punished, so that papa does not find out thatI did it," said he furiously; "and if you dare to tell of me, I'll payyou for it."

  "I shall say nothing, unless it becomes necessary to save the innocent,or I am forced to speak; but in that case I shall tell the truth,"replied Elsie, firmly.

  Arthur doubled up his fist, and made a plunge at her as if he meant toknock her down; but Elsie sprang behind the tree, and then ran sofleetly toward the house that he was not able to overtake her until hispassion had had time to cool.

  When they reached the house, Arthur replaced the watch on his father'stable, whence he had taken it, and then they all awaited his returnwith what courage they might.

  "I say, Wally," said Arthur, drawing his little brother aside andspeaking in a low tone, having first sent a cautious glance around toassure himself that no one else was within hearing; "I say, what wouldyou give me for that new riding whip of mine?"

  "O Arthur! anything I've got," exclaimed the little boy eagerly. "Butyou wouldn't give it up, I know, and you're only trying to tease me."

  "No, indeed, Wal; I mean to _give_ it to you if you'll only be a goodfellow and do as I tell you."

  "What?" he asked, with intense interest.

  "Tell papa that Jim broke the watch."

  "But he _didn't_" replied the child, opening his eyes wide withastonishment.

  "Well, what of that, you little goose?" exclaimed Arthur impatiently;"papa doesn't know that."

  "But Jim will get punished," said Walter, "and I don't want to tellsuch a big story either."

  "Very well, sir, then you'll not get the whip; and, besides, if youdon't do as I wish, I'm certain you'll see a ghost one of these nights;for there's one comes to see me sometimes, and I'll send him right offto you."

  "Oh! _don't_, Arthur, don't; I'd die of fright," cried the little boy,who was very timid, glancing nervously around, as if he expected theghost to appear immediately.

  "I tell you I will, though, if you don't do as I say; he'll come thisvery night and carry you off, and never bring you back."

  "O Arthur! don't let him come, and I'll say anything you want me to,"cried the little fellow in great terror.

  "That's a good boy; I knew you would," said Arthur, smilingtriumphantly. And turning away from Walter, he next sought out Enna,and tried his threats and persuasions upon her with even better success.

  Elsie had gone directly to her own room, where she sat trembling everytime a footstep approached her door, lest it should be a messenger fromher grandfather. No one came, however, and at last the tea-bell rang,and on going down she found to her relief that her grandfather and hiswife had not yet returned.

  "You look pale, Elsie," said her father, giving her a scrutinizingglance as she took her seat by his side. "Are you well?"

  "Yes, papa, quite well," she replied.

  He looked at her again a little anxiously, but said no more; and assoon as the meal was concluded, Elsie hastened away to her own roomagain.

  It was still early in the evening when Mr. and Mrs. Dinsmorereturned--for once, bringing no company with them; and he had not beenmany minutes in the house ere he took up his watch, and of courseinstantly discovered the injury it had sustained.

  His suspicions at once fell upon Arthur, whose character for mischiefwas well established; and burning with rage, watch in hand, he repairedto the drawing-room, which he entered, asking, in tones tremulous withpassion, "Where is Arthur! Young rascal! this is some of _his_ work,"he added, holding up the injured article.

  "My dear, how can you say so? have you any proof?" asked his wife,deprecatingly adding in her softest tones, "my poor boy seems to getthe blame of everything that goes wrong."

  "He gets no more than he deserves," replied her husband angrily."Arthur! Arthur, I say, where are you?"

  "He is in the garden, sir, I think. I saw him walking in the shrubberya moment since," said Mr. Horace Dinsmore.

  The father instantly despatched a servant to bring him in; sending asecond in search of the overseer; while a third was ordered to assembleall the house-servants. "I will sift this matter to the bottom, andchild or servant, the guilty one shall suffer for it," exclaimed theold
gentleman, pacing angrily up and down the room. "Arthur," said hesternly, as the boy made his appearance, looking somewhat pale andalarmed, "how dared you meddle with my watch?"

  "I didn't, sir; I never touched it," he replied boldly, yet avoidinghis father's eye as he uttered the deliberate falsehood.

  "There, my dear, I told you so," exclaimed his mother, triumphantly.

  "I don't believe you," said his father; "and if you are guilty, as Istrongly suspect, you had better confess it at once, before I find itout in some other way."

  "I didn't do it, sir. It was Jim, and I can prove it by Walter andEnna; we all saw it fall from his pocket when he was up in a tree; andhe cried like anything when he found it was broken, and said he didn'tmean to do it any harm; he was only going to wear it a little while,and then put it back all safe; but now master would be dreadfullyangry, and have him flogged."

  "That I will, if it is true," exclaimed the old gentleman,passionately; "he shall be well whipped and sent out to work on theplantation. I'll keep no such meddlers about my house."

  He looked at Enna. "What do you know of this?" he asked.

  "It is true, papa, I saw him do it," she replied, with a slight blush,and sending an uneasy glance around the room.

  "Did you see it, too, Walter?" asked his father.

  "Yes, sir," replied the little fellow, in a low, reluctant tone; "butplease, papa, don't punish him. I'm sure he didn't mean to break it."

  "Hold your tongue! he _shall_ be punished as he deserves," cried theold gentleman, furiously. "Here, sir," turning to the overseer, andpointing to Jim, "take the fellow out, and give him such a flogging ashe will remember."

  Elsie was sitting in her own room, trying to learn a lesson for thenext day, but finding great difficulty in fixing her thoughts upon it,when she was startled by the sudden entrance of Aunt Chloe, who, withher apron to her eyes, was sobbing violently.

  "O mammy, mammy! what's the matter? has anything happened to you?"inquired the little girl, in a tone of great alarm, starting to herfeet, and dropping her book in her haste and fright.

  "Why," sobbed Chloe, "Jim, he's been an' gone an' broke ole master'swatch, an' he's gwine be whipped, an' old Aunt Phoebe she's cryin' fitto break her ole heart 'bout her boy, kase--"

  Elsie waited to hear no more, but darting out into the hall, andencountering her father on his way to his room, she rushed up to him,pale and agitated, and seizing his hand, looked up eagerly into hisface, exclaiming with a burst of tears and sobs, "O papa, papa! don't,oh! _don't_ let them whip poor Jim."

  Mr. Dinsmore's countenance was very grave, almost distressed.

  "I am sorry it is necessary, daughter," he said, "but Jim has done verywrong, and deserves his punishment, and I cannot interfere."

  "Oh! no, papa, he did not, _indeed_ he did not break the watch. I_know_ he didn't, for I was by and saw it all."

  "Is it _possible?_" said he, in a tone of surprise; "then tell me whodid do it. It could not have been you, Elsie?" and he lookedsearchingly into her face.

  "Oh! no, papa, I would never have dared to touch it. But please don'tmake me tell tales; but I know it wasn't Jim. Oh! _do_ stop themquickly, before they begin to whip him."

  "Aunt Chloe," said Mr. Dinsmore, "go down to my father, and tell him itis my request that the punishment should be delayed a few moments untilI come down."

  Then taking Elsie's hand, he led her into her room again, and seatinghimself, drew her to his side, saying, with grave decision, "Now, mydaughter, if you want to save Jim, it will be necessary for you to tell_all_ you know about this affair."

  "I don't like to tell tales, papa," pleaded the little girl; "I thinkit so very mean. Is it not enough for me to tell that I know Jim didn'tdo it?"

  "No, Elsie; I have already said that it is _quite necessary_ for you totell _all you know_."

  "O papa! don't make me; I don't like to do it," she urged, with tearsin her eyes.

  "I should be very much ashamed of you, and quite unwilling to own youas my child, if under any other circumstances you were willing to telltales," he replied, in a tone of kindness that quite surprised Elsie,who always trembled at the very thought of opposing the slightestresistance to his will; "but," he added, firmly, "it is the only way tosave Jim; if you do not now make a full disclosure of all you know, hewill be severely whipped and sent away to work on the plantation, whichwill distress his poor old mother exceedingly. Elsie, I think you wouldbe doing very wickedly to allow an innocent person to suffer when youcan prevent it; and besides, I will add the weight of my authority, andsay you _must do it at once_; and you well know, my daughter, thatthere can be no question as to the duty of obedience to your father."

  He paused, gazing earnestly down into the little tearful, downcast,blushing face at his side.

  "Have I not said enough to convince you of your duty?" he asked.

  "Yes, papa; I will tell you all about it," she answered in a tremuloustone.

  Her story was told with evident reluctance, but in a simple,straightforward manner, that attested its truthfulness.

  Mr. Dinsmore listened in silence, but with an expression of indignationon his handsome features; and the moment she had finished he rose, andagain taking her hand, led her from the room, saying, as he did so:

  "You must repeat this story to your grandfather."

  "O papa! must I? Won't you tell him? please don't make me do it," shepleaded tremblingly, and hanging back.

  "My daughter, you _must_," he replied, so sternly that she dared notmake any further resistance, but quietly submitted to be led into hergrandfather's presence.

  He was still in the drawing-room, walking about in a disturbed andangry manner, and now and then casting a suspicious glance upon Arthur,who sat pale and trembling in a corner, looking the picture of guiltand misery; for he had heard Chloe deliver his brother's message, andfeared that exposure awaited him.

  Walter had stolen away to cry over Jim's punishment, and wish that hehad had the courage to tell the truth at first; but saying to himselfthat it was too late now, his father wouldn't believe him, and he wouldmake it up to Jim somehow, even if it took all his pocket-money for amonth.

  None of the other members of the family had left the room, and all worean anxious, expectant look, as Mr. Dinsmore entered, leading Elsie bythe hand.

  "I have brought you another witness, sir," he said, "for it seems Elsiewas present when the mischief was done."

  "Ah!" exclaimed the old gentlemen; "then I may hope to get at thetruth. Elsie, who broke my watch?"

  "It was not Jim, grandpa, indeed, _indeed_, it was not; but oh!_please_ don't make me say who it was," replied the little girl,beseechingly.

  "Elsie!" exclaimed her father, in a tone of stern reproof.

  "O papa! how can I?" she sobbed, trembling and clinging to his hand asshe caught a threatening look from Arthur.

  "Come, come, child, you must tell us all you know about it," said hergrandfather, "or else I can't let Jim off."

  Mr. Dinsmore was looking down at his little girl, and, following thedirection of her glance, perceived the cause of her terror. "Don't beafraid to speak out and tell all you know, daughter, for I will protectyou," he said, pressing the little trembling hand in his, and at thesame time giving Arthur a meaning look.

  "Yes, yes, speak out, child; speak out at once; no one shall hurt youfor telling the truth," exclaimed her grandfather, impatiently.

  "I will, grandpa," she said, trembling and weeping; "but please don'tbe very angry with Arthur; if you will forgive him this time, I thinkhe will never meddle any more; and I am quite sure he did not mean tobreak it."

  "So it _was you_, after all, you young rascal! I knew it from thefirst!" cried the old gentleman, striding across the room, seizing theboy by the shoulder and shaking him roughly.

  "But go on, Elsie, let us have the whole story," he added, turning toher again, but still keeping his hold upon Arthur. "You young dog!" headded, when she had finished. "Yes, I'll forgive you when you've had agoo
d, sound flogging, and a week's solitary confinement on bread andwater, but not before."

  So saying, he was about to lead him from the room, when Elsie suddenlysprang forward, and with clasped hands, and flushed, eager face, shepleaded earnestly, beseechingly, "O grandpa! don't whip him, don'tpunish him! He will never be so naughty again. Will you, Arthur? Let_me pay_ for the watch, grandpa, and don't punish him. I would so liketo do it."

  "It isn't the moneyed value of the watch I care for, child," repliedthe old gentleman, contemptuously; "and besides, where would you get somuch money?"

  "I am rich, grandpa, am I not? Didn't my mamma leave me a great deal ofmoney?" asked the little girl, casting down her eyes and blushingpainfully.

  "No, Elsie," said her father, very gently, as he took her hand and ledher back to the side of his chair again, "you have nothing but what Ichoose to give you, until you come of age, which will not be for agreat many years yet."

  "But you _will_ give me the money to pay for the watch papa, _won't_you?" she asked, pleadingly.

  "No, I certainly shall not, for I think Arthur should be left to sufferthe penalty of his own misdeeds," he replied in a very decided tone;"and, besides," he added, "your grandfather has already told you thatit is not the pecuniary loss he cares for."

  "No; but I will teach this young rascal to let my property alone," saidthe elder gentleman with almost fierce determination, as he tightenedhis grasp upon the boy's arm and dragged him from the room.

  Arthur cast a look of hatred and defiance at Elsie as he went out, thatmade her grow pale with fear and tremble so that she could scarcelystand.

  Her father saw both the look and its effect, and drawing the littletrembler closer to him, he put his arm around her, and stroking herhair, said in a low, soothing tone: "Don't be frightened, daughter; Iwill protect you."

  She answered him with a grateful look and a long sigh of relief, and hewas just about to take her on his knee when visitors were announced,and, changing his mind, he dismissed her to her room, and she saw nomore of him that evening.

  "Oh! if they only _hadn't_ come just now," thought the sorelydisappointed child, as she went out with slow, reluctant steps. "I'msure they wouldn't, if they had only known. I'm sure, quite sure papawas going to take me on his knee, and they prevented him. Oh! will beever think of doing it again! Dear, dear papa, if you could only knowhow I long to sit there!" But Mrs. Dinsmore, who had hastily retired onthe exit of Arthur and his father from the drawing-room, was nowsailing majestically down the hall, on her return thither; and Elsie,catching sight of her, and being naturally anxious to avoid a meetingjust then, at once quickened her pace very considerably, almost runningup the stairs to her own room, where she found old Aunt Phoebe, Jim'smother, waiting to speak with her.

  The poor old creature was overflowing with gratitude, and her ferventoutpouring of thanks and blessings almost made Elsie forget herdisappointment for the time.

  Then Jim came to the door, asking to see Miss Elsie, and poured out histhanks amid many sobs and tears; for the poor fellow had been terriblyfrightened--indeed, so astounded by the unexpected charge, that he hadnot had a word to say in his own defence, beyond an earnest andreiterated assertion of his entire innocence; to which, however, hisangry master had paid no attention.

  But at length Phoebe remembered that she had some baking to do, andcalling on Jim to come right along and split up some dry wood to heather oven, she went down to the kitchen followed by her son, and Elsiewas left alone with her nurse.

  Chloe sat silently knitting, and the little girl, with her head leaningupon her hand and her eyes fixed thoughtfully upon the floor, wasrehearsing again and again in her own mind all that had just passedbetween her papa and herself; dwelling with lingering delight uponeverything approaching to a caress, every kind word, every soothingtone of his voice; and then picturing to herself all that he might havedone and said if those unwelcome visitors had not come in and put anend to the interview; and half hoping that he would send for her whenthey had gone, she watched the clock and listened intently for everysound.

  But her bedtime came and she dared not stay up any longer; for hisorders had been peremptory that she should always retire precisely atthat hour, unless she had his express permission to remain up longer.

  She lay awake for some time, thinking of his unwonted kindness, andindulging fond hopes for the future, then fell asleep to dream that shewas on her father's knee, and felt his arms folded lovingly about her,and his kisses warm upon her cheek.

  Her heart beat quickly as she entered the breakfast-room the nextmorning.

  The family were just taking their places at the table, and herhalf-eager, half-timid "Good morning, papa," was answered by a grave,absent "Good morning, Elsie," and turning to his father and enteringinto a conversation with him on some business matter, he took nofurther notice of his little daughter, excepting to see that her platewas well supplied with such articles of food as he allowed her to eat.

  Elsie was sadly disappointed, and lingered about the room in the vainhope of obtaining a smile or caress; but presently her father went out,saying to the elder Mr. Dinsmore that he was going to ride over to Ion,and would probably not return before night; then, with a sigh, thelittle girl went back to her own room to prepare her morning lessons.

  Elsie was now happily free from Arthur's persecutions for a time; foreven after his release, he was too much afraid of his brother openly tooffer her any very serious annoyance, though he plotted revenge insecret; yet the little girl's situation was far from comfortable, andher patience often severely tried, for Mrs. Dinsmore was excessivelyangry with her on Arthur's account, and whenever her father was notpresent, treated her in the most unkind manner; and from the same causethe rest of the family, with the exception of her grandpa and AuntAdelaide, were unusually cold and distant; while her father, althoughcareful to see that all her wants were attended to, seldom took anyfurther notice of her; unless to reprove her for some childish faultwhich, however trifling, never escaped his eye.

  "You seem," said Adelaide to him one day, as he sent Elsie from theroom for some very slight fault, "to expect that child to be a greatdeal more perfect than any grown person I ever saw, and to understandall about the rules of etiquette."

  "If you please, Adelaide," said he haughtily, "I should like to beallowed to manage my own child as I see proper, without anyinterference from others."

  "Excuse me," replied his sister; "I had no intention of interfering;but really, Horace, I do think you have no idea how eagle-eyed you arefor faults in her, nor how _very_ stern is the tone in which you alwaysreprove her. I have known Elsie a great deal longer than you have, andI feel very certain that a gentle reproof would do her quite as muchgood, and not wound her half so much."

  "Enough, Adelaide!" exclaimed her brother, impatiently. "If I were tenyears _younger_ than yourself, instead of that much older, there mightbe some propriety in your advising and directing me thus; as it is, Imust say I consider it simply impertinent." And he left the room withan angry stride, while Adelaide looked after him with the thought, "Iam glad you have no authority over me."

  All that Adelaide had said was true; yet Elsie never complained, neverblamed her father, even in her heart; but, in her deep humility,thought it was all because she was "so very naughty or careless;" andshe was continually making resolutions to be "oh! _so_ careful alwaysto do just right, and please dear papa, so that some day he might learnto love her."

  But, alas! that hope was daily growing fainter and fainter; his coldand distant manner to her and his often repeated reproofs had soincreased her natural timidity and sensitiveness that she was now veryconstrained in her approaches to him, and seldom ventured to move orspeak in his presence; and he would not see that this timidity andembarrassment were the natural results of his treatment, but attributedit all to want of affection. He saw that she feared him, and to thatfeeling alone he gave credit for her uniform obedience to his commands,while he had no conception of the intense, but now
almost despairinglove for him that burned in that little heart, and made the young lifeone longing, earnest desire and effort to gain his affection.