CHAPTER V.--AN INCIDENT OF THE ROAD.
"Sevenoaks" was the name of Mr. Moore's great farm, which covered acresand acres of fertile plain; called so because of seven great oak treeswhich shaded the circular drive girdling the front lawn. They were fineold trees, and much care had been taken to preserve them in order topreserve the significance of the name.
"If I were Evelyn," Nancy was thinking, as she stood next morning on thepiazza scanning the storm-washed landscape now fast drying under theheat of the sun, "I should think it would be rather nice to be mistressof this beautiful place."
But Evelyn's name had not been mentioned again, and the name of theaviator also had never been introduced. The girls had waited, hopingthere might be some explanation, but there was none, and they did notcare to be accused of another act of curiosity.
What he could have been doing in that house, where he came from out ofthe storm and whither he went, they could not even guess. It was like adream, a sudden vision flashed before them in the lightning and thengone.
They had been driven over the farm that morning by the master himself;had seen, with the other fine horses, Pocohontas pawing the ground withher small forefoot, while a groom rubbed her smooth, satin coat with apiece of chamois. And now the Comet stood under the center tree of theseven oaks, waiting to carry them on their journey.
One Japanese servant was strapping on the suit cases in the back whilethe other was storing a hamper of lunch and a box of provisions in themotor.
While Billie was waiting for the others to settle themselves in themotor, Daniel Moore handed her a letter.
"The name and address are on it," he said; "but promise me one thing:Don't deliver it if you feel any fear or hesitation. All I can say is,that if you do, you will probably be making two people happy forever,because I can't seem to get at her in any other way, and I have aconviction they have made her believe I have given her up. If you shouldever need me," he added, "telegraph me to this address."
Then, with a last hand-shake and nods and smiles of farewell and wavingof handkerchiefs, the red motor car shot down the avenue and they wereoff.
The handsome, kindly face of the owner of Sevenoaks with his genialblue-gray eyes and his pleasant smile seemed to float after them like agood genie along the way.
They lunched on the roadside that day under a big mulberry tree. Aspring rippled near-by on purpose for Elinor's tea and they sat oncushions on the ground, picnic fashion. It was great fun, and there wasmuch to talk about. Billie drew out the letter and showed it to thegirls. "Miss Evelyn Stone, No. 6 ---- Street, Salt Lake City, Utah."
Before delivering the letter the girls realized that they must obtainMiss Campbell's consent, and they had been putting their heads togetherto devise a scheme by which their sprightly little chaperone should bewon over to the cause of the lovers.
"Cousin Helen," began Billie, "did you notice anything peculiar aboutMr. Moore?"
"Peculiar? No. I thought he was one of the most normal, well set-up,well-bred young men I had ever met."
"So did we," echoed the girls. "We liked him so much."
"But didn't you notice how sad he was, cousin."
"On the contrary, I thought he seemed very gay."
"He told us he was sad, at any rate. His heart is almost breaking."
"Tut, tut!" said Miss Campbell, "he has much too good a circulation forsuch nonsense."
"But he's in love, Miss Campbell," cried Elinor.
"Deeply, hopelessly in love," added Mary.
"With a beautiful girl," went on Billie.
"Who has a cruel father----"
"Who is a Mormon----"
"And won't let her marry any one but Mormons----"
"Mormons," cried Miss Campbell. "She can have only one at a time,child----"
"And Mr. Moore is not a Mormon. He's a Kentuckian," finished Nancy.
"Dear, dear," ejaculated Miss Campbell. "So that's the way the groundlies, is it? Poor fellow! Poor unhappy soul. I'm sure I feel very sorryfor him indeed!"
"He is unhappy, dearest cousin, and he can't reach her without breakingdown the door," went on Billie. "Her father reads all her mail and Mr.Moore simply can't get at her."
"Has the girl no mother to take her side? I don't wish to preachdisobedience, but why doesn't she run away? She might look the wideworld over and never find a nicer husband than that fine young man."
"That's what he can't understand," said Billie. "His letters have allbeen returned and he thinks they have told her something about him."
"He says if he could only get one more message to her----"
"Just a line----"
"Just a word----"
"And we----"
"And we've got the word," finished Billie in great excitement,flourishing the letter. "We are not to deliver it if we feel that itwould be dangerous, but if we can manage to slip it to her it will maketwo people very happy."
"But how can it be done? It sounds like a very risky adventure to me."
The girls exchanged sly glances while Billie related the plan. Many atime had they won Miss Campbell over to their schemes by touching herromantic heart.
"It's quite simple, you see, Cousin Helen. The mention of Fontainebleauwill explain everything to Evelyn. You see, they met in Paris, and spentone beautiful day together at Fontainebleau."
There was a long pause while Miss Campbell considered the situation.
"I don't think any harm would be done," she said at last. "He has beenvery kind to us, and if we could help him along a little, bring twoloving souls together----"
She paused and looked into the eager, interested faces of the four younggirls. Could she refuse to help two lovers?
"I've always heard those Mormons were a very revengeful race of people;but we'll take the risk, dear children. I don't see that there will bemuch danger in it for us. Billie can write a perfectly non-committalnote saying that she is in Salt Lake City for a few days, and would liketo see Miss Evelyn, and it would do no harm, I'm sure, to add, 'Have youforgotten the beautiful time at Fontainebleau?'"
"Yes, yes; that is exactly the thing to say," cried the others, and theybegan to count the days and weeks before they could reach Salt Lake Citybeyond the great wall of the Rocky Mountains.
They were still chatting in close conversation when a voice behind themstartled them. A deep, sonorous voice that had an ominous ring likedistant thunder, and yet the words spoken were commonplace enough:
"Ladies, do you wish to buy any shoestrings, jewelry, handkerchiefs,pins and combs?"
They looked up quickly.
A peddler had approached and was now about to open his pack. From hiscoarse dark skin and black hair, long enough to show underneath hisslouch hat, they judged he was at least half-Indian, and he stood overthem, a silent, statuesque figure, his narrow eyes becoming slits ofblackness as he regarded them.
"I am very sorry," said Miss Campbell politely,
"I'm afraid we don't need any of those things. We are already wellprovided."
This courteous lady was always apologetic when she couldn't accommodatepersons of a wandering character.
"Maybe the lady would like something better than shoestrings," continuedthe man, slipping his pack to the ground and opening a lower secretcompartment from which he drew a long, narrow box.
Spreading a square of dark green cotton material on the ground, thehalfbreed emptied out a double handful of beautiful opals.
"These opals I found in Mexico," he said, letting the stones dripthrough his fingers like glorified drops of milk. "They are very perfectones. This one would make you a beautiful ring, madam. And this younglady would look well in a necklace of opals. I will sell them to you forhalf their value."
The girls looked at the stones with grave interest, but nobody wanted anunset opal, and at the beginning of this long journey they had nointention of buying jewels.
"I am exceedingly sorry, my good man," said Miss Campbell, "but we donot wish to buy anything, especially opals, beca
use they are unluckystones."
"Only for those, lady, who are not born in October. Now, I should saythat this young lady was born in that month," he added, pointing toBillie.
"I was," said Billie, somewhat startled, "but how could you tell?"
"Lady, those who sleep under the stars are sometimes gifted in that way.Since you were born in October, you should have an opal.
"'October's child will not be blest Who wears no opal on her breast.'"
"But I have one," protested Billie, "only I left it at home."
"Then you will not buy one of these stones!" exclaimed the halfbreeddarkly.
"No," replied Miss Campbell, gently but firmly, "we wish nothingwhatever. I think we must be going now, girls," she added, rising.
The man began to put away his wares sulkily while the girls gatheredtheir belongings together and started for the automobile.
When he had fastened the pack to his back he walked over to the Comet inwhich they were already seated, while Billie cranked up the machine.
"Yesterday afternoon, in front of the place called Sevenoaks, a man inan automobile was struck by lightning and killed," he said. "Only alittle while before his master had refused to buy from me. And I cursedthem for their meanness. I was poor and they had money, but they refusedto buy. And now I curse you. I curse you and your country and yourparents and your grandparents. I curse the machine which carries you.May your way be hard and full of dangers. May the lightning play aboutyou and the thunder smite you. May you be lost in the mountains andstarve in the desert and sleep without a roof over your heads. Curses beupon you and yours."
Having delivered himself of his burden of hatred, he strode down theroad, a very figure of vengeance and enmity.
"Great heavens! the dreadful creature," exclaimed Miss Campbell,cowering in her seat fearfully.
"Don't notice him, Cousin Helen," said Billie over her shoulder. She hadstarted the car and they were speeding along at a rapid rate. "He isinsane, of course, and I'm glad we got rid of him so easily."
"Dear, dear, I hope we won't meet any more persons like that. He seemsto be just a vessel of bitterness, as poor dear grandmamma used to say."
They rode along silently for some time in the bright sunshine withoutspeaking. At last Elinor and Billie burst out simultaneously, as if theyhad both been pursuing the identical train of thought and at the samemoment had reached an exciting conclusion.
"The man struck by lightning," they cried.
"Must have been Peter Van Vechten's chauffeur," went on Elinor.
"And that was why Peter Van Vechten rushed into the house yesterday inthe storm," pursued Billie.
"Then the poor chauffeur must have been in the house with us all night,"said Mary, shuddering.
"And that was why Mr. Moore was gone so long, and then wouldn't tell uswhat was the matter. He was afraid it would frighten us," added Elinor.
"It's very strange, but I believe you are right," observed MissCampbell, shivering at the thought that there had been death anddestruction about her while she slept all unconscious in the big leatherchair by the fire.
That night they crossed the border line and slept in comfortable beds ina fine hotel in Omaha, Nebraska.
"Billie," said Nancy, with the covers drawn well about her head, so asto shut out the memory of that revengeful individual who had cursed themin such round terms, "Billie."
"Yes," replied her friend sleepily.
"Did that peddler's face remind you of anyone?"
"I can't say it did," she answered, almost slipping off into the regionof dreams.
"Not Miss Hawkes, who was so fond of dates?" asked Nancy.
"There was a faint likeness," answered Billie, making an effort to pullherself out of the deep pit into which she was fast sinking, and fallingback again helplessly, like a prisoner shackled with too many chains toescape.
"Do you suppose she could have had Indian blood?" asked Nancy.
But there was no reply. Billie was sleeping deeply.