Elsie at Ion

by Martha Finley

  CHAPTER XIX.

  THE next morning after the sailing of the _Dolphin_ brought to Mrs.Travilla the news that her son Edward and his family, accompanied byElla Conly, were on their way north, intending first to visit theLelands at Evelyn’s cottage on the Hudson, then to come on to spend afew weeks with her at the sea-shore.

  Everybody was glad, for the departure of so large a number of thosewho had made up their family for weeks past had left them all feelingsomewhat lonely.

  Hugh Lilburn felt very loth to leave just as his betrothed was coming,for the visit on the Hudson was not to be a long one; besides, he wasunwilling to leave his father to encounter McAlpine without being therehimself to defend him in case the Mormon should become abusive.

  That he decided in his own mind would be worse than allowing hisbusiness interests to suffer somewhat by a prolonged absence from hisnewly acquired property.

  But it was growing late in the season; the cottage nearest to the houseoccupied by the Dinsmores, Mrs. Travilla, and the others of that partywas rented by them for the expected ones from New York, and in a weekfrom the departure of the _Dolphin_ and her passengers they arrived andtook possession.

  But they were much like one family, taking their meals at the largerhouse, spending the greater part of the day there or on the beach, ortaking walks and drives together.

  They had letters now and then from the party in the yacht, whoseemed to be enjoying themselves greatly, and in a week after thislast arrival the vessel touched at Gloucester, and Mary Keith,Calhoun, Herbert, and Harold landed, spent a few hours in the city,then returned to their sea-side home, where they were welcomed withdemonstrations of delight.

  They reported that Arthur and his bride seemed to be having adelightful honeymoon and deemed it best to remain on the yacht somewhatlonger, unless they should hear of the whereabouts of McAlpine and knowthat they would be safe from a visit from him, which, unless he becamea changed man, would undoubtedly be far from pleasant.

  “I told them,” said Calhoun, “that I should rather enjoy giving him apiece of my mind.”

  “Yes, probably rather more than he would,” laughed Harold.

  “I dare say,” returned Calhoun, “but I can’t say that I amparticularly anxious or desirous to give him pleasure. However, I thinkhe will find us too large a party to attack with anything worse thanhard words; and those I am by no means unwilling to stand for the sakeof my pretty young sister-in-law.”

  “Marian is a sweet girl,” said Mary Keith, “and as Dr. Conly’s wife shehas made certain her escape from a dreadful fate.”

  It was after tea and they were all in the parlor; for it was a coolevening, cloudy and occasionally drizzling a little.

  Mary had scarcely ceased speaking when a loud peal from the door-bellstartled every one. Harold stepped out to the hall to answer it. Therestood a tall, broad-shouldered man, who accosted him with, “How do youdo, sir? I understand that this is the house occupied by Mrs. Travilla,Captain Raymond, and others.”

  “Mrs. Travilla is here; Captain Raymond is not,” returned Harold. “MayI inquire what is your errand to either of them?”

  “Yes. I understand that they are harboring here a daughter of mine,considerably under age, who ran away from me some months ago. I havecome to take possession of her; and let me say I intend to do so, letwho will object.”

  “She is not here,” answered Harold.

  At that the man pushed him suddenly and rudely aside and walked boldlyand defiantly into the parlor. Mr. Lilburn instantly rose and facedhim. “William McAlpine, what brings you here?” he asked in stern tones.

  “Is it you, Ronald Lilburn?” exclaimed the other in astonishment. “Ithought you were in auld Scotland and probably under the sod long erethis. And is it you that’s carried off my bairn?”

  “I have never seen Mormon land and didna carry her off,” was Mr.Lilburn’s reply in a tone full of scorn and contempt; “but if I’d hadthe chance I wad hae rescued her at the risk o’ my life from sic afate as you—unnatural beast o’ a mon that ye are—had prepared for her.You are worse than a heathen, William McAlpine, wi’ your three or fourwives; and you broke the heart o’ Marian’s mither, my ain sweet cousin,who demeaned hersel’ to marry you—a mean fellow not fit to wipe thedust from her shoon.”

  At that the man turned white with passion and lifted his clinched fistas if about to strike the old gentleman down. But his son Hugh sprangin between them, and at the same instant Edward and Harold sprangforward and each seized an arm of the stalwart stranger, while Herbertand Calhoun showed themselves ready to assist in preventing him fromharming their old friend.

  But at that instant a woman’s voice, seemingly coming from the nextroom, spoke in sadly beseeching tones:

  “O Willie, Willie, wad ye harm my own dear auld cousin who has nevershown aught but kindness to us and ours? Is it not enough that ye brokethe heart o’y ain wife that loved ye better than all the warld beside?And wad ye kill my ain bairn—the bonny lassie that we baith loved sowell when she was a wee toddling thing? Dinna meddle wi’ her, Willie;dinna harm a hair o’ her head or I’ll haunt ye to the last day o’ yourlife. Forsake your sins, Willie, put away your mony wives and be a trueservant o’ the Lord, or ye’ll never win to heaven; your soul will belost and I that loved ye so lang syne will see ye no more forever.”

  McAlpine’s face turned ghastly white while he listened and his eyesseemed starting from his head; then as the voice ceased he suddenlywrenched himself free from the hold of Edward and Harold and rushedfrom the room and the house like one pursued by an avenging foe; theyheard his steps echoing down the garden path, out into the road, andaway till the sounds were lost in the distance.

  Then Mr. Dinsmore spoke, breaking the astonished silence:

  “He is badly scared, and I think will hardly return to pursue hissearch for his missing daughter.”

  “I trust not, sir,” responded Cousin Ronald. “Fortunately I was able toremember and reproduce the tones of his dead wife’s voice. My God-giventalent is sometimes useful, as well as a source of amusement to myyoung friends.”

  “And older ones also,” Elsie added with a smile.

  “Yes, indeed,” said Rosie; “the man fairly frightened me, for he actedas if he were wicked enough to hurt or even kill every one of us. Idon’t wonder Marian ran away from him and was so frightened at the verythought of seeing him again.”

  “Nor I,” said Zoe, looking at her husband with eyes full of tears. “Omy dear Ned, I was so afraid he would do you some dreadful harm! Andwhat if he should even yet; he may come back! Oh, let us shut doors andwindows.”

  “I think there is hardly any danger of his returning,” remarked HughLilburn in a reassuring tone; “at least not to-night.”

  The other gentlemen agreed in that opinion, and the ladies weresufficiently reassured to be able to pass a comfortable night.

  But though they were ignorant of the fact, McAlpine was in no conditionto injure any of them or even to return to their dwelling.

  In the darkness and the confusion of his mind, he had wandered from thepath and fallen down a hill, landing on a bed of stones, striking hishead on one of them so that he was insensible for some hours, breakinga rib and receiving internal injuries that proved fatal in a veryshort time. In the morning some one passing heard his groans, went forassistance, and he was carried into a house and a surgeon sent for, whoafter making an examination told him he had but a few hours to live,and if he had any affairs to settle he would do well to attend to themimmediately.

  McAlpine was thrown into great distress of mind by the announcement,and begged to have word sent to the house where he had been the nightbefore, with an earnest request that Mr. Lilburn would come to him, forat least a few moments, as he had something he wished to say.

  Shocked at the news of the man’s condition, Mr. Lilburn at oncehastened to his bedside.

  “They tell me I’m a dying mon, Ronald Lilburn, and I maun ease my mindafore I die, wi’ a word for my dau
ghter Marian. Tell her for me that Iown I’ve been a hard father to her, and was—O God, forgive me—a cruel,unfaithful husband to her mither after I turned Mormon. It’s a lustful,wicked pretence o’ a religion, is Mormonism, and I dinna want Sandybrought up to believe in it.”

  He paused from exhaustion, and Mr. Lilburn told of his plans for Sandyand the offers he had made the lad to educate and start him in life.

  “God bless you for it,” returned the dying man. “I find now my death isnear that I care more for those two o’ my bairns than I thought. Andnow I maun think o’ my soul! O Ronald Lilburn, what must I do to besaved? Is there ony hope for such a sinner as I?”

  “Yes, William. ‘The blood o’ Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth us fromall sin,’ and while there is life there is hope. Flee to Jesus, thesinner’s friend, remembering his own words, ‘Him that cometh unto me Iwill in no wise cast out.’”

  “Lord, I come, I come; be merciful to me a sinner; save me for thineown name’s sake,” came in earnest, pleading tones from the dying lips;a few long-drawn breaths followed and the soul had fled.

  The _Dolphin_ was known to be far out at sea; word of her father’sarrival and his speedy and unexpected death could not be sent toMarian, so the body was carried to an undertaker’s and the nextday quietly buried from there, Mr. Lilburn, his son, and the othergentlemen of the family attending the funeral services.

  When at length the news reached Marian, something of her early lovefor her father seemed to return to her. She shed some tears over it,yet in a short time her grief was more than swallowed up in a sense ofrelief.

  She was very, very happy with Arthur, who proved himself the kindestand best of husbands. It was not thought necessary that her father’sdeath should be made known in their home neighborhood, and on herreturn she dressed as a bride. Her husband had told her of his improvedcircumstances and was disposed to lavish upon her everything that heartcould wish. But she was not extravagant in her tastes or desires, andhe was satisfied to let her follow her own inclination in regard tothat and the continuing of her studies with Captain Raymond, at leastfor a time.

  That pleased the captain, and he was more than willing to receive heras a pupil when they should all return home and he resume his labors asinstructor.

  The entire family had now been let into the secret of Arthur’swonderfully large fee for his medical service to William Croly, andheartily rejoiced with him.

  Dr. Dick Percival joined them for a week at the sea-side, after whichall returned to their homes.

  Calhoun had tried to induce his Mary to follow with him the exampleset them by his brother and Marian, and Hugh Lilburn let his Ella knowthat he would be far from objecting to making it a double wedding;but neither lady would consent. Each wished to go home first and makesuitable preparations for the important event, Ella adding that Isadoreand the other sisters and brothers would have reason to be hurt if shedid not invite them all to be present at her wedding.

  Mr. and Mrs. Dinsmore and Mrs. Travilla thought she took a proper viewof the matter, as did Mary also, in regard to the time and place of herown nuptials.

  So Calhoun took her to her own home and left her there, with theunderstanding that he was to return for her some weeks or monthshence—the day having not yet been fixed upon.

  But before leaving their sea-side home all spent a day there together.Naturally one of the principal topics of conversation was theapproaching journey to their southern homes.

  “I wish I could take you all with me in the yacht,” said CaptainRaymond, addressing the company in general, “but unfortunately thereis not accommodation for so many. Mother, we must have you and Grandpaand Grandma Dinsmore, as it is a more restful way to travel than by thecars. The doctor and his bride are already engaged to us, and we must,I think, take Evelyn, Rosie, and Walter; we should hardly know whatto do without them any longer,” he added with his pleasant smile. “Wehave eight family and passenger state-rooms, and beds can be made up atnights in the saloon,” he continued, “and in that way we can make roomfor several more.”

  He paused for a reply, but no one spoke, each seemingly waiting for theothers.

  At length Violet said: “I think you and your babies should be with us,Zoe; then of course Edward would need to be there to take care of youall; for he would not be willing to trust that business to any oneelse. And Harold and Herbert ought to be with their mother, having,poor little lads! been so much away from her for the last few years,”she added in a sportive tone.

  Every one approved, and so it was settled. The journey was a safe andprosperous one with all; they arrived at their homes, Ion, Woodburn,and Roselands, without accident or loss, and presently had settled downfor the duties and pleasures of the fall and coming winter.

  THE END.

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  Transcriber’s Notes:

  Obvious punctuation errors repaired.

  Page 78, “beign” changed to “begin” (show was to begin)