CHAPTER XXI
Never had scheme more signal failure than that of Lyttleton for convincing pretty Nell Lamar of his dauntless bravery; he went away from the major's that night crestfallen and angry, cursing his ill-luck and her quickness of perception.
Nor was fair Nell herself in a much more enviable state of mind; there was a sad, reproachful look in Kenneth's eyes as he bade her a courteous good-night, which haunted her for days and weeks like a nightmare.
She purposely avoided him when he called the next morning to enquire about Bertie, and when the weather permitted her to resume her walks and rides, was careful to select those in which she was least likely to meet him.
He was not slow to perceive this and it wounded him deeply; particularly as Lyttleton was very frequently her companion and his society seemed not unpleasant to her, if one might judge from her bright looks and smiles.
Yet Nell despised Lyttleton heartily, and at times herself scarcely less.
"Nell Lamar, you are becoming an arrant and shameless coquette!" she would exclaim almost fiercely to herself in the privacy of her own room. "I'm ashamed of you! no wonder Dr. Clendenin looks at you as if he despaired of you and pitied you for your depravity. Well, whose fault is it but his; why do his lips refuse to speak what his eyes have said over and over again? Oh, it is mean and shameful! I will not care for him or his reproving looks! He is no better than I, and yet – and yet – O Kenneth, Kenneth, you are good and noble and true, though I cannot understand it!"
Thus she was by turns angry and repentant, now reproaching him, and now herself.
She did not, however, give Lyttleton much encouragement. As she had said to Dale, she could not forbid him the house, neither could she avoid being in the same room with him when there, as no other, the kitchen excepted, was warm enough for comfort at that inclement season, nor could she prevent his joining her in the street.
She usually declined his attentions when it could be done without positive rudeness, yet he persevered, the prize seeming to him all the more valuable because of its difficulty of acquisition.
Dale looked on with vexation and a growing dislike to Lyttleton; but Clare gave the latter her countenance, making him always welcome to the house, saying little things that flattered his vanity, and vaguely hinting that Nell was capricious and might be won in time by clever courting.
The major was apparently oblivious of the whole matter, while the gossips of the town compared notes and speculated as to the probability that the Englishman's suit would eventually prosper.
These queries and conjectures now and then reached Kenneth's ears, inflicting a sharp pang all unsuspected by the talkers; for it had come to be the popular opinion that Dr. Clendenin was a confirmed bachelor, utterly indifferent to the charms of the softer sex; and not by word or tone, or so much as a change in the calm gravity of his demeanor, did he let them into the secret of his silent suffering.
And it was not slight; many a night of sleepless anguish it cost him to think how "his darling, his own precious little Nell," as he must call her, was being wiled away from him by one who could never, he was sure, half appreciate her worth, and was far from deserving so rich a prize.
But could it be possible that she would throw herself away thus, that she would give her hand without her heart? For was not that all his own, had not those beautiful, eloquent eyes betrayed her secret to him spite of herself? And yet, and yet – had he, beyond a doubt or peradventure, read that look aright? Oh, if he might but go to her, pour out the story of his love and sue for hers? But alas, alas, he dare not, 'twould be a more grievous wrong than to keep silent and let her think what she would of him.
And though he longed continually for her sweet society, though he felt as if shut out of a heaven on earth while staying away from her dear presence, he must constrain himself to do so, always have some excuse ready when the major urged upon him the hospitalities of his house.
And what right had he to accuse the dear girl in his heart of fickleness and coquetry? He, and he alone, was to blame for her conduct, because his looks had told the story of his love and his lips failed to confirm it.
There was, perhaps, more than usual sociability among the young people of Chillicothe that winter, and Lyttleton was invited everywhere, generally accepting; always when he knew that Miss Lamar would be one of the guests; and not unfrequently she was much vexed by the marked attention he was pleased to bestow upon her.
Some of the other young ladies would have received them with far more complacency, deeming the handsome, fascinating, and apparently wealthy Englishman no mean prize in the matrimonial lottery.
Of course Nell was teased and jested with about her adorer, but to the surprise of the well-meaning jokers, their witticisms were received with hauteur, and sometimes positive anger, leaving no room for doubt that the subject was an unpleasant one.
Still most of them made up their minds that it was only their remarks that were so distasteful to her, and not the man himself, or his evident predilection.
Nell usually enjoyed the sleigh rides, the quiltings, the social tea-drinkings, and evening parties which constituted the winter festivities of the town, and was the life of them all; but this season she was glad to get away from them, or rather from Lyttleton's society, to the quiet and seclusion of Mr. Nash's farm-house, to which she was carried off by its mistress one bright December morning, for a fortnight's visit.
Mrs. Nash had come into town to exchange butter and eggs for dry goods and groceries. That done she called at the major's, proposed to Nell to take a vacant seat in her sleigh, and return with her, and was delighted by a prompt acceptance of the invitation.
"I don't know how Mr. Lyttleton will be able to endure so long a separation," remarked Clare demurely.
"And I don't care!" returned Nell, with spirit. "I shall enjoy it extremely, and selfish as it may seem, that is all I am concerned about."
"How about Dr. Clendenin?" queried Mrs. Nash with a roguish smile.
The girl's face flushed, then paled.
"He is seldom here and will not miss me," she said in a quiet tone as she left the room to make the necessary preparations for the trip.
"Your English friend will be sure to follow you," said Clare as they bade good-bye.
"He would not dare!" cried Nell. "But don't you let him know where I am, for there is no saying how far his audacity may carry him."
"Quite as far as you travel to-day, I've no doubt," laughed Clare.
"Nell," said Mrs. Nash, as they glided swiftly over the snow, leaving the town behind. "I hear that Englishman is very attentive to you; but I can tell you Dr. Clendenin is worth a dozen of him."
"What has that to do with it?" asked Nell dryly, screening her face from view in the folds of a thick veil. "They are not rivals."
"I don't know what you mean, my dear child. I do know that Dr. Clendenin loves you."
"He has made you his confidante?"
Nell's tone was a mixture of inquiry, pain, incredulity, anger and pique.
"Not intentionally; but words could not have told it more plainly than his looks, tones and actions when he found you lying insensible beside the carcass of that mad cat, and thought you had been bitten."
"All your imagination, mon ami, Dr. Clendenin and I are nothing to each other."
Nell strove to speak lightly, but there was an undertone of bitterness which did not escape her friend.
Mrs. Nash mused silently for a moment, saying to herself there had probably been a lovers' quarrel, but she hoped it would all come right in the end, and she would be on the lookout to do anything in her power to bring about a reconciliation.
She was not one of the prying kind, however, and knew that Nell would be quick to resent any attempt to worm her secrets from her, so when she presently spoke again, it was upon a widely different topic.
They had a pleasant sociable time together for several days, Nell finding positive pleasure in helping her friend to make up winter garments for the children.
Then came a heavy snow storm followed by bright weather, clear and cold, making excellent sleighing.
Mrs. Nash had carefully avoided broaching the subject of Nell's love affairs, but they had, nevertheless, been seldom absent from her thoughts, which had busied themselves with projects for restoring harmony between the two, whom she supposed to have had a misunderstanding.
She had cast about in her mind for an excuse for sending for the doctor, that so they might be brought together and given an opportunity for mutual explanation. So anxious for this was she that it seemed hardly a matter for regret when she found she had taken cold with the change of weather, and had a slight sore throat.
Mr. Nash was going into town and she requested him to call at the doctor's office and ask him to come out and see her.
Nell heard, and it sent the blood to her cheek and made her heart beat quickly. She had not exchanged a word with Dr. Clendenin since that evening when she had read, or fancied she did, reproof in his eye and voice because of her flirtation with Lyttleton; and she both longed and dreaded to meet him.
The latter feeling increased as the time drew near when he might be expected; the merry jingle of sleigh bells, and the sight of a cutter with a gentleman in it wrapped in furs, dashing up to the gate, had almost sent her flying from the room, so strong was the impulse at that moment to avoid him.
But a second glance told her that was not Kenneth's noble figure which sprang from the vehicle and came hurrying up the path to the house.
She sat still and in another moment Lyttleton stood smiling and bowing before her, hat in hand.
"Excuse this intrusion, fair lady," he said, "I have felt like a Peri shut out of heaven since your withdrawal from the major's house, and I come as bearer of a letter which I must even hope may secure me a welcome."
He tendered it gracefully as he spoke.
"Ah, thank you!" she cried, her face flushing with pleasure, for letters were a rare thing in those days.
He bade her read it while he sat by the fire and chatted with Mrs. Nash, to whom, with his usual tact and skill, he soon managed to make himself extremely entertaining.
"Now, fair lady," he said, turning to Nell as she refolded her letter, "may I not claim a reward for the slight service I have had the happiness to render you?"
"Of what kind, sir?" she answered with a saucy smile.
"The privilege of taking you out for a short drive. The sleighing is superb."
Nell was in a most gracious mood, and then here was the wished for chance to escape the dreaded meeting with Dr. Clendenin. She consented at once and hastily donned cloak and hood.
"I'm afraid you will find it very cold," objected Mrs. Nash, more anxious to detain the young girl for Kenneth's coming, and to prevent any acceptance of attentions from his rival, than she would have liked to acknowledge.
"Oh no, madame," hastily interposed Lyttleton, "I have a foot-stove and plenty of robes, and there is no wind; indeed I assure you it is quite delightful out to-day, the air is so pure and bracing."
"And I am warmly dressed, and have a thick veil," added Nell.
Lyttleton tucked the robes snugly about her, saying, "I trust you will not suffer from cold, Miss Lamar."
"Oh, no!" she answered with a gay laugh.
"Now which way shall we travel?" he asked, gathering up the reins.
With the thought that Dr. Clendenin would be coming from the town, and the desire to avoid a meeting, Nell named the opposite direction.
But they had not gone half a mile when that very thing occurred.
Dr. Clendenin had a patient some miles farther out from town, had called there first, and was intending to take Mr. Nash's in his way home.
He bowed with grave courtesy to Nell and her companion, in passing, recognizing the latter with a jealous pang that was like the stab of a sharp knife.
Nell's cheeks flushed and her eyes fell; she was thankful that her veil hid her agitation from Dr. Clendenin; but then and many times through the succeeding weeks and months, she would have given much to deny to him the knowledge that she had accepted this attention from Lyttleton.
In vain she asked herself what concern was it of his, what right he had to object? She could not shake off the feeling that she was in some way, to some extent, accountable to him.
From that day she was as ready with excuses as Kenneth himself when the only alternative was to permit Lyttleton to be her escort.
CHAPTER XXII
Lyttleton cordially hated Clendenin, but endeavored to conceal his dislike and ill-will under the mask of friendship, haunting the doctor's office all through the winter and spring with nearly as great persistency as during the first week of his sojourn in Chillicothe.
He indulged a like feeling toward Dale, though to a less degree; hating him as a rival in love, Kenneth as that and something more.
Spring opened early. Bright, warm days with hard frosts at night made the sap in the sugar maples run freely, and many farmers in the vicinity of the town were busied in catching and boiling it down. Then visits to the sugar camps became one of the popular amusements of the young people.
Dale got up a party to go on horseback to one five or six miles away, inviting Lyttleton, but taking care first to secure to himself the honor of playing escort to Miss Lamar.
Lyttleton was very angry when he learned this, but having promised to go, tried to console himself with the young lady he considered next to Nell in beauty and fascination.
He managed to conceal his ill humor, the others seemed in high spirits, and they had a merry time.
In returning they made a circuit through the woods. They were following the course of a little stream when Dale, who was taking the lead, suddenly gave a loud "Hurrah!"
"What is it? what is it?" cried the others, hurrying up.
"A bear's stepping place," he answered gleefully, pointing to some deep indentations in the soft, spongy ground; evidently the tracks of some large wild animal, and leading off from the water's edge into the woods.
"A bear!" cried Lyttleton, horrified, "then let us hurry these ladies home with all speed."
"Not much danger, sir," remarked a young fellow named Bell; "bears are lazy at this time of year, and we all have our guns. If the ladies are not afraid, I'd like very much to follow up the track and see where his bearship lodges."
"So should I," said Dale. "However, we can note the spot and return to it to-morrow."
"No, lead on; I'm not afraid," cried Nell. "He's likely to be in his hole any how, isn't he?"
"Yes; unless he's on his way to the water here, for a drink. They come after that about once in two or three days."
A consultation was held, and a majority being in favor of following up the track, they did so, finding it led them to a large hollow tree distant some few hundred yards in the depths of the wood.
Nothing was seen of the bear himself, but the young men, familiar with his habits, made no doubt that he was inside the tree, and promised themselves fine sport in hunting him out, and a grand feast upon his flesh; the fat part of which is said to make a very luxurious repast when boiled or roasted with turkey or venison.
Bell proposed to climb the tree, which was rough and knotted, and look into the hole; but to that the ladies objected.
So they turned about and went home, the young men arranging on the way for the proposed hunt.
The next day, their number augmented by the addition of Major Lamar and Dr. Clendenin, they returned to the spot.
Bell, armed with a long pole sharpened at one end, climbed the tree, the others looking on near by, each with his gun loaded and ready for instant use.
"Here he is," cried Bell, peeping in at the hole in the tree. "Out o' this, Sir Bruin! out I say!" prodding the creature with his stick as he spoke.
The beast uttered a low growl, but did not move. But Bell continued to punch, prick and order him out, until finally he obeyed, moving heavily to the hole and slowly dragging himself out.
As soon as he was fairly clear of the hole, Dale and the major, who had been selected for the duty, fired; taking aim so accurately that the animal fell dead instantly.
Tig, Zeb and Hans were directed to take care of the carcass.
Bell, who upon starting the bear had slipped out on to a large limb and nonchalantly awaited the shooting, dropped to the ground and with the rest of the hunters moved on in search of other game.
"You are a daring fellow," observed Lyttleton admiringly, to Bell. "I was really alarmed for your safety."
"Oh, I didn't feel myself in much danger," returned Bell, with a light laugh; "for you see I had time to slip aside, after starting him, before he could get clear of the hole, and I knew Dale and the major would not miss their mark."
The party had traversed some miles of forest, shooting several deer and a number of wild turkeys, when they came upon the "stepping place" of another bear, and then upon bruin himself returning from the stream where he had been slaking his thirst.
This one was of less amiable disposition, or wider awake than the first, and when Lyttleton, who happened to be nearest, fired at it, aiming so carelessly in his haste and excitement that he only wounded without disabling it, the creature turned, rushed at him in fury and rose on its hind legs prepared to give him a hug which would have left no breath in his body.
But there was a sharp report, a bullet whizzed past him, almost grazing his cheek, entered the creature's eye, penetrating to the brain, and it dropped dead at his feet.
He staggered back pale and trembling.
"You are not hurt?" asked Kenneth's voice close at his side.
"Yes; no – I – I can hardly tell."
"Well done, doc!" cried the major, running up to them; "he's a big, powerful fellow," looking down at the bear, "and could have given a tremendous squeeze, such as would crush a man's bones to bits. Lyttleton, I think Dr. Clendenin has saved your life."
Lyttleton stammered out some words of thanks, then moved away muttering to himself, "Confound the thing, he's the last man I'd willingly owe such a debt to!"
CHAPTER XXIII
Spring deepened into summer and still Lyttleton lingered in Chillicothe, though with no apparent object unless it might be the hope of winning Miss Lamar. He continued to be a constant visitor at the major's, welcomed by him and Clare, but seeing little of Nell, who took particular pains to avoid him, by going out at such times as he was likely to call, or busying herself in another part of the house when he was in the parlor.
He noticed this with anger and chagrin, yet as we have said, difficulty of attainment only increased his estimate of the value of the prize he sought; and suspecting, in his egregious self-conceit and egoism, her conduct to he merely an affectation of coyness with the purpose to bring him to a formal declaration of love, for how could any woman resist such fascination as his of person, manner and fortune, he determined to seize the first opportunity to make her an offer of heart and hand.
With that end in view he dropped in one day at the major's just at tea time; ostensibly for the purpose of inquiring if they had heard a piece of news that was creating some little excitement in the town, and sure of an invitation to stay and partake with them of the evening meal.
The news was concerning Wawillaway's assassin, the dastardly ruffian Wolf. He had fled to Kentucky to escape the merited punishment of his crime at the hands of the two sons of the murdered chief, who, in accordance with the Indian code, making it the right and duty of the nearest of kin to kill the slayer of their relative, had vowed vengeance upon him.
The murderer may, however, purchase his life at a price agreed upon by the family of his victim, and Wolf had employed an agent to make terms with the two young men.
It was now announced that these terms had been agreed upon, and the business would be concluded by an interesting ceremony at Old Town, to take place the following day.
Lyttleton had heard several gentlemen say they meant to be present and to take their wives or sweethearts with them, and had determined that he too would go, if possible as Miss Lamar's escort.
But Dale had the start of him this time, as on several former occasions, and was already in the major's parlor, discussing the news with the family, and engaged to conduct Miss Nell to see the ceremony, when Lyttleton came in; as the latter presently learned from the conversation.
He was disappointed and angry, but so sure of success in his more important errand that he comforted himself with the thought that this was Dale's last chance to serve him such a trick.
Dale, for his part, had no idea that any such calamity awaited Nell or himself, and having a little urgent business matter to attend to, went away shortly after tea to which both callers had been hospitably invited, in a very cheerful frame of mind, leaving the field to Lyttleton.
He knew the Englishman to be a rival, but did not consider him a dangerous one; and at all events Nell was secured to himself for the coming day.
Clare, though at one time quite sure that Dr. Clendenin and Nell cared for each other, had now entirely given up the idea of ever seeing them united. She could not worm out the facts from Nell, but concluded that there must have been an irreconcilable quarrel.
"Well, she was not sorry, for this Englishman was certainly very much in love, and would make a better match, from a worldly point of view at least." So she did what lay in her power to favor and advance his suit.
Something in his look or manner told her of his purpose to-night, and she contrived that the two should be left alone in the parlor soon after Dale's departure.
Lyttleton seized the opportunity at once, poured out passionate expressions of love, and in plain words asked Nell to become his wife.
She tried in vain to stop him, he would be heard to the end.
"Mr. Lyttleton," she said, rising with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, "I thank you for the honor you have done me, but I cannot entertain such a proposition for a moment. Nay, hear me out," as he seemed about to enter a protest, "even as you have compelled me to hear you. I would have spared you the pain of a rejection, but you would not let me."
"My dear Miss Nell – Miss Lamar," he stammered, "it cannot be that I hear aright! or if I do that you understand what it is that you are rejecting. I will say nothing" – with an affectation of humility – "of any charms of person or address that some may attribute to your humble servant, but an honored and ancient name, an assured position among the English gentry, fine estate, large fortune – "
She interrupted him, drawing herself up to her full height, while her eyes flashed and her cheek crimsoned with indignation.
"If I ever marry, Mr. Lyttleton, it shall be neither position nor estate – least of all money."
"What more can you ask, pray?" he inquired, folding his arms and throwing back his head with an air of hauteur.
"Something of infinitely greater worth," she replied, her eyes kindling, "infinitely better and higher; the love and confidence of a true and noble heart, the heart of a man who lives not for himself, but for others, who is not content to pass his days in inglorious ease and idleness, but does with his might what his hands find to do to glorify God and benefit his fellow men."
"Clendenin, curse him!" he muttered between his clinched teeth.
Her quick ear caught the words not meant for it.
"Yes," she said, with a peculiar smile, "Dr. Clendenin answers the description very well, but not he alone; I am thankful to say there are others among my countrymen who do."
"Your countrymen! always your countrymen," he blazed out growing very red and angry; "a set of clodhoppers who are obliged to earn their bread by the sweat of their brows. Mark my words, miss, you'll see the day when you would be very glad to share the inglorious ease of a member of the favored class denominated the English gentry."
"No, sir," she answered with spirit, "I am heart and soul an American, and our differing nationalities would be an insuperable objection to the acceptance of your offer were there none other."
At which, boiling with rage and disappointment, he hastily caught up his hat and left the house.
Nell's conscience pricked her with the reminder that those last words were untrue; since, had Lyttleton been an American, and Kenneth an Englishman, it would have made no difference in her feelings toward either.
Lyttleton hurried on through the streets and out into the country beyond, neither knowing nor caring in his rage and disappointment what direction he took. All he wanted was to avoid observation until he could recover his accustomed self-control; lest otherwise the story of his rejection should be bruited about and himself treated to scorn and ridicule in consequence.
Unconsciously he struck into the trail that led to Old Town.
The sun had set, but there was yet sufficient light to show him the stalwart figure of a huntsman with his gun on his shoulder and a string of birds in his hand, coming to meet him.
Lyttleton stood still for a moment, debating in his own mind whether to go on or to retrace his steps, when the other called out in a well-known voice,
"Dat you, mynheer? It ish goot you haf come. I have some dings der dell you."
"What things, Hans?" asked Lyttleton moving on to meet his valet, to whom he had given permission for a day's sport in the woods.
"I dells you pooty quick, mynheer," returned Hans close at his side; then went on to relate how he had fallen in with a party of Indians on their way to Old Town to take part in the coming ceremony, and that they had among them a white woman who seemed, from her looks and actions, to have been with them a long while.
Lyttleton listened eagerly, and when Hans had finished his story, tried to elicit further information by asking questions in regard to the height, complexion, demeanor, and apparent age of the woman.
When these had all been answered. "It may be she," he said musingly as if thinking aloud; then in a quick, determined way, "Hans, you must take me at once to see this woman. It may prove of the greatest importance that I should see and talk with her this very night."
Hans, already weary and footsore with his day's tramp, would have greatly preferred to move on to Chillicothe and get a warm supper at the General Anthony Wayne, followed by a lounge on the bench before the bar-room door. Accordingly he showed some unwillingness to obey the order.
It was, however, speedily overcome by the offer of double wages for that week. He turned about at once and by the light of the moon, just rising over the tree tops, the two followed the trail till it brought them to the Indian town, where after some search they found the object of their quest seated alone at the door of her wigwam, smoking a pipe and seemingly wrapped in meditation, enjoying the moonlight and the cool evening breeze which was particularly refreshing after the day.
Lyttleton accosted her courteously in English, and she answered in the same tongue, inviting him to take a seat on the bearskin by her side.
"Thank you, I do not wish to crowd you, I will sit here," he said, appropriating a stump close at hand.
Hans, by his master's direction, had refrained from approaching very near, and was resting himself on a fallen tree a few hundred yards distant.
He saw that Lyttleton and the woman were soon in earnest conversation, but could not hear the words spoken.
Some of the Indians were nearer, but few of them had any knowledge of English, the language used by both speakers during the interview, most of them none at all, and only from looks, tones and gestures, could they gather any hint of the subject of the conference.
It lasted for a full hour; then Lyttleton rose and stood before the woman, talking and gesticulating with great earnestness. He seemed to be vehemently urging some request which she was inclined to deny; at length he drew out a silken purse full of broad gold pieces which glittered in the moonlight as he held it up.
"Promise me," he said, "and this is yours; keep your promise till I see you again and it shall be doubled."
"Give it me then," she cried, stretching out an eager hand.
"You promise?"
"Yes, yes; why not?"
He dropped it into her open palm, saying impressively, "Remember. Now, good-bye," and turned exultingly to go on his way.
"Stay," she cried.
"Well, what more?" he asked facing her again, "is it not enough?"
"Yes; but you have not told me who you are, or why you – "
"It does not matter; all you have to do is to follow my directions," he interrupted somewhat haughtily, and strode rapidly away.
"Your errand shpeed so petter as goot, mynheer?" queried Hans as they struck into the trail again.
"I flatter myself it will all come out right in the end, Hans," was the reply; then there was a muttered word or two that sounded like an imprecation upon some absent person, with a threat of vengeance for some real or fancied injury.
Chillicothe seemed sleeping when they re-entered it; the streets were silent and deserted, the houses closed and dark; only from the bar-room window of the General Anthony Wayne gleamed the light of a single tallow candle. Master and man entered there without noise or bustle and presently slipped quietly away to the room of the former.