Elsie at Ion

by Martha Finley

  CHAPTER XII.

  THE Conlys claimed it as their privilege to entertain the connection onthe following day, and before leaving Woodburn that evening gave Mr.Hugh Lilburn a cordial invitation to make one of the company, which heaccepted with evident pleasure.

  Again the weather was delightful, every one in good health and spirits,and the host and hostess were most kind and attentive, making eachguest feel welcome and at home.

  Roselands was again a beautiful place; its fields in a higher state ofcultivation than ever before, yielding excellent crops, Calhoun havingproved himself a wise, industrious, scientific planter and manager,while Arthur assisted with his advice and professional gains; so thatthey had at length succeeded in paying off all indebtedness and couldfeel that the estate was now really their own.

  Calhoun greatly enjoyed showing Mary Keith about the house and grounds;calling her attention particularly to such parts of them as were moreespecially associated with the experiences of his Cousin Elsie’s earlylife; for Mary was a deeply interested listener to everything he had totell on the subject.

  Toward tea-time all had gathered on the verandas and the lawn in frontof the house. The young people and little ones were somewhat weary withromping games and roaming over the grounds, so that very little wasgoing on among them except a bit of quiet chat here and there betweensome of the older people.

  Walter, always eager for the sports Cousin Ronald could make for themwith his ventriloquism, stepped to the back of the old gentleman’schair and made a whispered request for an exertion of his skill in thatline.

  “Wait a bit, laddie, and I’ll see what can be done,” replied Mr.Lilburn, ever willing to indulge the boy, who was a great favorite withhim.

  Walter took possession of a vacant chair near at hand, and patientlywaited. Mr. Lilburn gave his son a slight sign, hardly noticed by anyone else, and almost immediately the notes of a flute came softly tothe ear as if from some distance.

  Instantly conversation was hushed and all listened intently. It seemedbut a prelude, and presently a rich tenor voice struck in and sang apretty Scotch ballad, the flute playing an accompaniment.

  Many looks of surprise were exchanged, for surely Cousin Ronald couldnot be responsible for it all; he could not both sing and play theflute at the same time, and the questions, “Who are they? What does itmean?” passed from one to another.

  “What you doing? what you ’bout?” screamed a harsh voice, apparentlyfrom a tree-top near at hand.

  “None o’ your business,” croaked another.

  Walter started up and whispered in the old gentleman’s ear, “Why,Cousin Ronald, are there two of you to-night? or—no, it can’t be thatMax is here?”

  “No, no, laddie, that guess is wide of the mark,” laughed Mr. Lilburnin return, while little Elsie Raymond exclaimed, “Two Pollies! and wehave only one at our house.”

  “Why, it’s very odd,” remarked Lulu. “I really thought my Polly was theonly one in this neighborhood.”

  “I think the voice of the first one was hers,” said Mary Keith, “andthe same too that we heard at Ion; I recognized it when I saw and heardher at Woodburn; but the other voice is a little different.”

  “Yes, a little harsher,” said Rosie, “like a male voice. Polly musthave hunted up a mate somewhere.”

  “Two cups of coffee!” screamed the first voice. “Polly wants herbreakfast.”

  “Not breakfast, Polly, but supper,” laughed Walter. “You don’t seem toknow the time o’ day.”

  “Supper! Polly wants her supper,” croaked the second voice. “Polly’shungry.”

  “Just wait a bit,” laughed Walter; “we’ll all be getting ourspresently, and if you are good birds probably you’ll get some too.”

  At that moment a bell rang.

  “There’s the call to it now,” said Calhoun. “Walk in, ladies andgentlemen—children too—and the pollies shall have theirs if they willfollow with the crowd.”

  Every one accepted the invitation, and they were soon seated about thetables; it took several to accommodate them all. A moment’s hush, thenCousin Ronald was requested to ask a blessing, and did so in a fewwords spoken in reverent tones. The guests were then helped, and themeal began, a buzz of subdued conversation accompanying it.

  The parrot at Woodburn had learned many words and sentences sinceher arrival there; during Mr. Lilburn’s visit he and she had becomewell acquainted, and under his tuition her vocabulary had been veryconsiderably increased, so that she could upon occasion, or when sodisposed, make herself a very entertaining companion.

  Presently her voice, or one very like it, was heard above the clatterof plates, knives and forks, and the buzz of talk, coming seeminglyfrom the mantelpiece some yards in Mr. Lilburn’s rear.

  “Polly wants her supper. What you ’bout? Polly’s hungry.”

  “Stop your noise, Polly,” promptly responded the other parrot’s voice.

  “Cup o’ coffee for Polly, Mamma Vi,” promptly demanded the first voice.

  “Miss Ella rules here,” laughingly returned Violet, “but even shecannot serve you unless you show yourselves.”

  “Why, where is dem?” queried little Ned, gazing in wide-eyed wonder inthe direction from which the sounds had seemed to come. “Me tan’t seede pollies.”

  “Nor can I, Neddie boy,” said his Uncle Edward.

  But at that instant subdued voices were heard conversing in quiettones, apparently outside upon the veranda, but close to an open doorleading into the dining-room.

  “That supper smells mighty good, Bill.”

  “So it does, Pat. Come now, let’s just step in and help ourselves,seein’ as they doan’t hev perliteness enuff to ask us in or hand out somuch as a bite o’ victuals to us.”

  “Let’s wait our turn, though, and perhaps we’ll get an invite whenthey’re well filled theirselves.”

  “You’re not afeared they’ll eat it all theirselves?”

  “Huh! no; how could they? There’s loads and loads of grub there; plentyfor them and us too.”

  “Yaas, ’bout enuff to feed a regirment.”

  Conversation about the table had ceased; every one was gazing in thedirection from which the sounds of the talk between the two rough menseemed to come.

  “Whar dem fellers? I doan see ’em!” exclaimed a colored lad engaged inwaiting on the table; “hear deir talkin’ plain ’nuff, though.”

  “Ha, ha!” laughed one of the strange voices, “is that so, darky? Then Ireckon your hearing’s some better’n your sight.”

  “Impident rascal!” returned the colored lad wrathfully. “Mr. Cal, I’llgo drive ’im out ef you say so, sir.”

  “Yes, do so at once, Hector,” returned Calhoun. “We don’t want trampsabout to-day, and he seems a decidedly impudent one.”

  Hector hurried to the door, but was back again in a moment, his faceghastly with fright.

  “He—he—dey am no dar, sir,” he gasped. “Couldn’t see nobody ’tall.Whar—whar you ’spose dey’s done gone so pow’ful quick, sah?”

  “Oh, don’t be frightened, Hector; they’re not likely to prove verydangerous fellows,” returned Calhoun. “The probability would seem to bethat they have just stepped off the veranda into the grounds—scared,you know, at seeing so powerful a fellow as you coming after them insuch a rage—and will be back asking for their supper in another minuteor two. However, as they may be lurking about, watching an opportunityto help themselves, you may as well send some one out to look them upand watch their movements.”

  “Ha, ha, you’re a bit late with your precautions, mister!” exclaimedone of the voices, now coming apparently from an inner room, “we’rehere already, and what’s more, defy you, sir, to put us out in a hurry.”

  “That’s so,” growled the other voice; “’twould take any two o’ thosegents at the table to put me out; and I’ll not go a step till I’vesatisfied my appetite with the best they’ve got.”

  “Well,” exclaimed Ella, “if that isn’t
impudence I never heard any.But we are neglecting our guests, Art.; Uncle Horace’s plate wantsreplenishing; the captain’s too.”

  “Polly’s hungry; poor old Polly, poor old soul!” screamed from themantelpiece again the voice that sounded like that of Lulu’s pet.“Breakfast-time. Polly wants coffee.”

  “Hush, Polly! be quiet, Polly!” croaked the other voice. “Eat yourcracker and go to sleep.”

  “Hold your tongue, Poll,” screamed the first. “Polly wants a cup ofcoffee.”

  Hector, who was a new servant, stood looking this way and that, gaspingand rolling up his eyes in terror, but the others, who were tolerablywell acquainted, by hearsay at least, with Mr. Lilburn’s ventriloquialpowers, had by this time recalled what they had heard on that subject,and went quietly about waiting upon the guests.

  Croly and Mary Keith had been most interested listeners, and when aninstant’s lull occurred, after the parrot-like screams, the formersaid: “Well, ladies and gentlemen, I am now fully convinced that wehave, at least, one ventriloquist among us, though which of you it is Ihave not been quite able to decide.”

  “It may, perhaps, be easier to decide who it is not,” remarked theelder Mr. Dinsmore, with an amused smile.

  “Very true, sir,” said Croly, “and I have come to the conclusion thatit is not yourself, Captain Raymond, Doctor Conly, or my friends Haroldor Herbert Travilla.” With the last words he looked inquiringly at eachof the other gentlemen present. Not one of them seemed to him to lookconscious, and he felt that his question still remained unsolved.

  Hector, still trembling with fright, and now and then sending atimorous glance in the direction of the door at which the tramps hadlast been heard, had listened in wondering surprise to the talk aboutthe ventriloquist.

  “What dat, Scip?” he asked in shaking undertones, plucking at thesleeve of a fellow servant, “dat vent-vent-erquis? Dis chile neber hearof dat sort of ting afore.”

  “You jess g’long an’ look fer it then,” returned Scip loftily. “’Pearslike maybe you find him in de parlor yonder behind de doah.”

  The children had been looking and listening, wondering where the menand the parrots were.

  “Papa, where is de mans and birds? de pollies dat talked so loud?”asked little Eric Leland. “Me don’t see dem.”

  “No; they can only be heard, not seen,” laughed his father, “whilelittle fellows—like my Eric, you know—should be seen and not heard whenat table with so many older people.”

  “Big folks talk very much, papa,” remarked the little one, smiling upinto his father’s face.

  “So they do, and so may you when you grow big,” returned his father.“And now, when at home with no strangers by, you may talk too.”

  “Well, Hector, suppose you take Scip’s advice and go and look for thosetramps,” said Dr. Conly, addressing the frightened, perplexed-lookingyoung servant-man. “Don’t be afraid; I promise to cure your hurts ifyou get any in trying to put them out.”

  But Hector stood where he was as if rooted to the spot, shaking hishead gloomily in response to the doctor’s suggestions.

  “No, tank you, doctah, sah, but dis chile radder stay cured widoutbein’ hurted fus,” he answered, retreating a little farther from theparlor door as he spoke.

  “Then come and make yourself useful,” said Ella. “Get your salver andhand this cup of coffee to Mr. Lilburn.”

  Hector obeyed, and Cousin Ronald, giving him a humorous look as he tookhis cup from the salver, asked: “Are you really going to leave thosetramps in the parlor yonder to carry off whatever they please?”

  “Why, sah, dis chile ain’t so powerful strong dat he kin fight two bigfellers widout nobody to help wid the business,” grumbled Hector,looking very black at the suggestion.

  “Oh, Hector, don’t be such a coward,” exclaimed Walter Travilla. “I’mnot very big or strong, but, if mamma will let me, I’ll go along andprotect you from them while you put them out. I may, mayn’t I, mamma?”giving her an inquiring look as he rose from his chair.

  But at that moment one of the strange voices was again heard at thedoor opening on the veranda.

  “Never mind, little feller; we’re out here and going off now; and wehaven’t taken a pin’s worth, for we’re honest chaps if we are poor andsometimes ask for a bite o’ victuals.”

  “Yaas, that’s so,” drawled the other voice.

  A sound like that of retreating footsteps followed; then all was quiet,and Hector drew a long breath of relief.

  “Glad dey’s gone,” he said presently, then went briskly about hisbusiness.

  It was still early, not yet sundown, when those of the guests who hadlittle ones took leave of their kind entertainers, and started fortheir homes. Edward and Zoe, with their twin babies, were among thefirst. Herbert, too, excused himself, and on the plea of a letter towrite for the next mail went with them, riding his horse beside thecarriage in which the others were seated.

  They took a short cut through a bit of woods and were moving ratherleisurely along, chatting about Cousin Ronald’s tricks of the afternoonand speculating upon the seeming fact that he must have a coadjutor,when Herbert suddenly reined in his steed, backing him away from thevehicle, and at the same time calling out in a quick, imperative,excited tone to the driver: “Rein in your horses, Solon! Quick, quick,back them for your life!”

  Even while he spoke the order was obeyed, yet barely in time; for atthat instant a great tree came down with a heavy crash, falling acrossthe road directly in front of the horses and so close that it grazedtheir noses as it passed.

  Zoe, throwing an arm round her husband’s neck and clasping her babiesclose with the other, gave one terrified shriek, then for severalminutes all sat in horror-struck silence, feeling that they had escapedby but a hair’s-breadth from sudden, horrible death. Edward’s arm wasabout her waist, and he drew her closer and closer yet, with a gestureof mute tenderness.

  “O Ned, dear Ned, how near we’ve been to death! we and our darlings,”she exclaimed, bursting into tears and sobs.

  “Yes,” he said in trembling tones. “Oh, thank the Lord for hisgoodness! The Lord first, and then you, Herbert,” for his brother wasnow close by the side of the carriage again.

  “No thanks are due me, dear Ned,” he replied, with emotion, “but letus thank the Lord that he put it into my heart to come along with you,and directed my eyes to the tree as it swayed slightly, preparatory toits sudden fall. Look, Zoe, what a large, heavy one it is—one of theold monarchs of the wood and still hale and vigorous in appearance. Whowould ever have expected it to fall so suddenly and swiftly?”

  “I hardly want to,” she said, shuddering; “it seems so like a dreadfulfoe that had tried to kill my husband, my darling babies, and myself.”

  “How the horses are trembling with fright!” exclaimed Edward. “Poorfellows! it is no wonder, for if I am not mistaken the tree actuallygrazed their noses as it fell.”

  “Yes, sah, it did dat berry ting,” said Solon, who had alighted and wasstroking and patting the terrified steeds, “an’ dey mos’ tinks dey’shalf killed. I dunno how we’s goin’ fer to git ’long hyar, Mr. Ed’ard,sah; cayn’t drive ober dis big tree no how ’tall.”

  “No, but perhaps we can manage to go round it; or better still, we’llturn and drive back till we can get into the high-road again. Butdrive slowly, till your horses recover, in a measure at least, fromtheir fright.”

  “Yes, I think that is the best we can do,” said Herbert, wheeling aboutand trotting on ahead.

  The shock to Zoe had been very severe. All the way home she wasshuddering, trembling, sobbing hysterically, and clinging to herhusband and babies as though in terror lest they should be suddenlytorn from her arms.

  In vain Edward tried to sooth and quiet her, clasping her close andcalling her by every endearing name; telling her the danger was a thingof the past; that their heavenly Father had mercifully preserved andshielded them, and they had every reason to rest with quietness andassurance in h
is protecting care.

  “Yes, yes, I know it all, dear Ned,” she sobbed, “but have patiencewith me, dear; my nerves are all unstrung and I cannot be calm andquiet; I cannot help trembling, or keep back the tears, though I amthankful, oh, so thankful! that not one of us was killed or even hurt.”

  “No; it was a wonderful escape,” he said in moved tones; “a wonderfulevidence of the goodness of God to all of us; and thankful I am thateven the horses escaped injury.”

  “Yes, yes, indeed, poor things! I’m very glad they escaped so well,”she sobbed; “but for them to have been killed would have been asnothing to having one of our dear babies hurt.”

  “Oh, no, no! and we can never be thankful enough for their escape,”he responded in moved tones, putting his arm around both at once anddrawing them into a closer embrace, while they looked from one parentto the other in wide-eyed wonder.

  “There, dear,” said Edward the next minute, glancing from the window,“we are turning into our own avenue and you may surely feel that thethreatened danger is fully past.”

  “Ah, no!” she returned, shuddering; “how can we be sure that any of ourgrand old trees may not fall at any moment? I shall never, never feelsafe again.”

  “Except by trusting in Him without whose will not even a sparrow fallsto the ground,” he said low and tenderly. “‘The angel of the Lordencampeth round about them that fear him and delivereth them. O tasteand see that the Lord is good; blessed is the man that trusteth inhim.’”

  “And you are that man, and so the Lord has spared you and your wifeand little ones. O Ned, dear, ask him to make their mother a Christiantoo.”

  “My darling, I will; I do every day of my life,” he said with emotion,and holding her close.

  In another moment the carriage had drawn up before the veranda stepsand Herbert, who had arrived and dismounted a little in advance of theothers, hastened to assist them to alight.

  “Why, Zoe, dear girl, how you are trembling!” he exclaimed, as helifted her out and set her on her feet. “Don’t allow yourself to be soagitated; the danger is past, and by God’s great goodness we have allescaped injury.”

  “Yes, yes, I know it!” she said, “but the shock was very great, and Icannot get over it yet.”

  She and Edward went directly to their own apartments, taking theirbabes with them; for Zoe seemed unwilling to lose sight for a moment ofany one of her three treasures.

  But Laurie and Lily were soon asleep.

  “The sweet pets!” murmured Zoe, leaning over them, her eyes full oftears. “O Ned, suppose they, or even one of them, had been struck bythat tree and killed or badly hurt, how could we have borne it—you andI?” She ended with a storm of tears and sobs.

  “Only by the strength that God gives in proportion to our needs, dearlittle wife,” Edward answered, holding her close and caressing herwith great tenderness. “He is ever faithful to his promise to hispeople. ‘As thy days, so shall thy strength be.’”

  “But I cannot claim that promise,” she sobbed, laying her head on hisshoulder, while he clasped her close. “But I want to be a Christian. Myheart goes out in love and gratitude to him for sparing to me my life,my dear babies, and most of all my best and dearest of husbands.”

  “And I should be very, very desolate without you and yours, love,”he returned with emotion; “I cannot feel that I could do without youeven in another world. Ah, dearest, why delay any longer? why not comenow—at this moment—and give yourself to God? Surely you cannot refuse,cannot hesitate when you think of all his loving-kindness to you andyours.”

  “I do want to be his,” she said, “but the way does not seem quite clearto me; can you not tell me just how?”

  “It is very simple. Just tell him that you are a lost, helpless sinner,ask him to forgive your sins and save you from them. David’s prayerwas, ‘Wash me thoroughly from mine iniquity and cleanse me from mysin.... Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spiritwithin me’—petitions that he is both able and willing to grant. Hesays, ‘him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out.’ Delay is verydangerous, dearest, as the experience of this evening may well convinceus; we are sure of no time but the present. ‘Now is the accepted time;now is the day of salvation.’”

  A moment of silence followed, broken at length by a few low-toned wordsfrom Zoe: “I want to do it, dear Ned. Let us kneel down together, andyou say the words for me. I will follow you in my heart, for I do wantto belong to the dear Lord Jesus from this time forever.”

  They knelt down with their arms about each other, and in a few earnestwords he expressed for her her sense of sin, her desire to be deliveredfrom it, and to consecrate herself with all her powers and possessionsto God’s service, for time and for eternity.

  Zoe followed with a fervent “Amen! Dear Lord Jesus, take me for thyvery own, and let me be thine, wholly thine, forever and forevermore.”