CHAPTER VI
IN WHICH DAVID AIDS FRALE TO MAKE HIS ESCAPE
Elated by his talk with Cassandra, Frale walked eagerly forward, but ashe neared Thryng's cabin he moved more slowly. Why should he let thatdoctor help him? He could reach Farington some way--travelling by nightand hiding in the daytime. But David was watching for him and strolleddown to meet him.
"Good morning. Your sister says there is no time to lose. Come in here,and we'll see if we can find a way out of this trouble."
Having learned not to expect any response to remarks not absolutelydemanding one, and not wishing the silence to dominate, David talked on,as he led Frale into the cabin and carefully closed the door behindthem.
Thryng's intuition was subtle and his nature intense and strong. He hadbeen used to dealing with men, and knew that when he wished to, heusually gained his point. Feeling the antagonism in Frale's heart towardhimself, he determined to overcome it. Be it pride, jealousy, or whatnot, it must give way.
He had learned only that morning that circumlocution or pretence of anysort would only drive the youth further into his fortress of silence,and close his nature, a sealed well of turbid feeling, against him;therefore he chose a manner pleasantly frank, taking much for granted,and giving the boy no chance to refuse his help, by assuming it to havebeen already accepted.
"We are about the same size, I think? Yes. Here are some things I laidout for you. You must look as much like me as possible, and as unlikeyourself, you know. Sit here and we'll see what can be done for yourhead."
"You're right fair, an' I'm dark."
"Oh, that makes very little difference. It's the general appearance wemust get at. Suppose I try to trim your hair a little so that lock onyour forehead won't give you away."
"I reckon I can do it. Hit's makin' you a heap o' trouble."
David was pleased to note the boy's mood softening, and helped him on.
"I'm no hand as a barber, but I'll try it a little; it's easier for meto get at than for you." He quickly and deftly cut away the fallingcurl, and even shaved the corners of the forehead a bit, and clipped theeyebrows to give them a different angle. "All this will grow again, youknow. You only want it to last until the storm blows over."
The youth surveyed himself in the mirror and smiled, but grimly. "I dolook a heap different."
"That's right; we want you to look like quite another man. And now foryour chin. You can use a razor; here is warm water and soap. This suitof clothes is such as we tramp about in at home, different from anythingyou see up here, you know. I'll take my pipe and book and sit there onthe rock and keep an eye out, lest any one climb up here to look around,and you can have the cabin all to yourself. You see what to do; makeyourself look as if you came from my part of the world." Thryng glancedat his watch. "Work fast, but take time enough to do it well. Say halfan hour,--will that do?"
"Yas, I reckon."
Then David left him, and the moments passed until an hour had slippedaway, but still the youth did not appear, and he was on the point ofcalling out to him, when he saw the twisted form of little Hoylescrambling up through the underbrush.
"They're comin'," he panted, with wild and frightened eyes fixed onDavid's face. "I see 'em up the road, an' I heered 'em say they wasgoin' to hunt 'round the house good, an' then s'arch the cabin ovahHanging Rock." The poor child burst into tears. "Do you 'low they'llshoot Frale, suh?"
"They'd not reached the house when you saw them?"
"They'll be thar by now, suh," sobbed the boy.
"Then run and hide yourself. Crawl under the rock--into the smallesthole you can. They mustn't see that you have been here, and don't befrightened, little man. We'll look after Frale."
The child disappeared like a squirrel in a hole, and Thryng went to thecabin door and knocked imperatively. It was opened instantly, and Fralestood transformed, his old, soiled garments lying in a heap at his sideas if he had crept out of his chrysalis. A full half hour he had beenlingering, abashed at himself and dreading to appear. The slight growthof adolescence was gone from lip and chin, and Thryng was amazed andsatisfied.
"Good," he cried. "You've done well."
The youth smiled shamefacedly, yet held his head high. With the heavygolf stockings, knee breeches, and belted jacket, even to himself heseemed another man, and an older man he looked by five years.
"Now keep your nerve, and square your shoulders and face the world witha straight look in the eye. You've thrown off the old man with these."David touched the heap of clothing on the floor with his foot. "Hoyle ishere. He says the men are on their way here and have stopped at thehouse."
Instead of turning pale as Thryng had expected, a dark flush came intoFrale's face, and his hand clinched. It was the ferocity of fear, andnot the deadliness of it, which seized him with a sort of terribleanger, that David felt through his silence.
"Don't lose control of yourself, boy," he said, placing his hand gentlyon his shoulder and making his touch felt by the intimate closing of hisslender fingers upon the firmly rounded, lean muscles beneath them.
"Follow my directions, and be quick. Put your own clothes in this bag."He hastily tossed a few things out of his pigskin valise. "Cram them in;that's right. Don't leave a trace of yourself here for them to find.Pull this cap over your eyes, and walk straight down that path, and passthem by as if they were nothing to you. If they speak to you, of coursenod to them and pass on. But if they ask you a question, say politely,'Beg pardon?' just like that, as though you did notunderstand--and--wait. Don't hurry away from them as if you were afraidof them. They won't recognize you unless you give yourself away by yourmanner. See? Now say it over after me. Good! Take these cigars." Heplaced his own case in the boy's vest pocket.
"Better leave 'em free, suh. I don't like to take all your thingsthis-a-way." He handed back the case, and put them loose in his pocket.
"Very well. If you smoke, just light this and walk on, and if they askyou anything about yourself, if you have seen a chap of the sort,understand, offer them each a cigar, and tell them no. Don't say 'Ireckon not,' for that will give you away, and don't lift your cap, orthey will see how roughly your hair is cut. Touch it as if you weregoing to lift it, only--so. I would take care not to arrive at the housewhile they are there; it will be easier for you to meet them on thepath. It will be the sooner over."
Thryng held out his hand, and Frale took it awkwardly, then turned away,swallowing the thanks he did not know how to utter. For the time being,David had conquered.
The lad took a few steps and then turned back. "I'd like to thank you,suh, an' I'd like to pay fer these here--I 'low to get work an' send themoney fer 'em."
"Don't be troubled about that; we'll see later. Only remember one thing.I don't know what you've done, nor why you must run away like this--Ihaven't asked. I may be breaking the laws of the land as much as you inhelping you off. I am doing it because, until I know of some downrightevil in you, I'm bound to help you, and the best way to repay me will befor you to--you know--do right."
"Are you doin' this fer her?" He looked off at the hills as he spoke,and not at the doctor.
"Yes, for her and for you. Don't linger now, and don't forget mydirections."
The youth turned on the doctor a quick look. Thryng could not determine,as he thought it over afterward, if there was in it a trace ofmalevolence. It was like a flash of steel between them, even as theysmiled and again bade each other good-by.
For a time all was silent around Hanging Rock. Thryng sat reading andpondering, expecting each moment to hear voices from the direction Fralehad taken. He could not help smiling as he thought over his attempt tomake this mountain boy into the typical English tourist, and how uniquean imitation was the result.
He called out to comfort Hoyle's fearful little heart: "Your brother'sall safe now. Come out here until we hear men's voices."
"I better stay whar I be, I reckon. They won't talk none when they getnigh hyar."
"Are you comfortable down there
?"
"Yas, suh."
Hoyle was right. The two men detailed for this climb walked in silence,to give no warning of their approach, until they appeared in the rear ofthe cabin, and entered the shed where Frale's horse was stabled. Surewere they then that its owner was trapped at last.
They were greatly surprised at finding the premises occupied. Davidcontinued his reading, unconcerned until addressed.
"Good evenin', suh."
He greeted them genially and invited them into his cabin, determined totreat them with as royal hospitality as was in his power. To offer themtea was hardly the thing, he reasoned, so he stirred up the fire, whiledescanting on the beauty of the location and the health-giving qualityof the air, and when his kettle was boiling, he brought out from hislimited stores whiskey, lemons, and sugar, and proceeded to brew them sofine a quality of English toddy as to warm the cockles of their hearts.
Questioning them on his own account, he learned how best to get hissupplies brought up the mountains, and many things about the regioninteresting to him. At last one of them ventured a remark about thehorse and how he came by him, at which he explained very frankly thatthe widow down below had allowed him the use of the animal for his keepuntil her son returned.
They "'lowed he wa'n't comin' back to these parts very soon," and Davidexpressed satisfaction. His evident ignorance of mountain affairsconvinced them that nothing was to be gained from him, and they asked nodirect questions, and finally took their departure, with a high opinionof their host, and quite content.
Then David called his little accomplice from his hiding-place, took himinto his cabin, and taught him to drink tea with milk and sugar in it,gave him crisp biscuits from his small remainder in store, and, stillfurther to comfort his heart, searched out a card on which was apicture of an ocean liner on an open sea, with flags flying, great rollsof vapor and smoke trailing across the sky, with white-capped wavesbeneath and white clouds above. The boy's eyes shone with delight. Hetwisted himself about to look up in Thryng's face as he questioned himconcerning it, and almost forgot Frale in his happiness, as he trudgedhome hugging the precious card to his bosom.
Contentedly Thryng proceeded to set his abode in order after thedisarray of the morning, undisturbed by any question as to the equity ofhis deed. His mind was in a state of rebellion against the usualworkings of the criminal courts, and, biassed by his observation of theyouth, he felt that his act might lead as surely toward absolutejustice, perhaps more surely, than the opposite course would have done.
Erelong he found a few tools carefully packed away, as was the habit ofhis old friend, and the labor of preparing his canvas room began. Butfirst a ladder hanging under the eaves of the cabin must be repaired,and long before the slant rays of the setting sun fell across hishilltop, he found himself too weary to descend to the Fall Place, evenwith the aid of his horse. With a measure of discouragement at hisundeniable weakness, he led the animal to water where a spring bubbledsweet and clear in an embowered hollow quite near his cabin, thenstretched himself on the couch before the fire, with no other light thanits cheerful blaze, too exhausted for his book and disinclined even toprepare his supper.
After a time, David's weariness gave place to a pleasant drowsiness, andhe rose, arranged his bed, and replenished the fire, drank a little hotmilk, and dropped into a wholesome slumber as dreamless and sweet asthat of a tired child.
Such a sense of peace and retirement closed around him there alone onhis mountain, that he slept with his cabin door open to the sweet air,crisp and cold, lulled by the murmuring of the swaying pine topswithout, and the crackling and crumbling of burning logs within. Rolledin his warm Scotch rug, he did not feel the chill that came as his fireburned lower, but slept until daybreak, when the clear note of aCarolina wren, thrice repeated close to his open door, sounded hisreveille.
Deeply inhaling the cold air, he lay and mused over the events of theprevious day. How quickly and naturally he had been drawn into theinterests of his neighbors below him, and had absorbed the peculiaratmosphere of their isolation, making a place for himself, shutting outalmost as if they had never existed the harassments and questionings ofhis previous life. Was it a buoyancy he had received from his mountainheight and the morning air? Whatever the cause, he seemed to havesettled with them all, and arrived at last where his spirit needed butto rest open and receptive before its Creator to be swept clear of thedross of the world's estimates of values, and exalted with aspiration.
Every long breath he drew seemed to make his mental vision clearer. Godand his own soul--was that all? Not quite. God and the souls of men andof women--of all who came within his environment--a world madebeautiful, made sweet and health-giving for these--and with them to knowGod, to feel Him near. So Christ came to be close to humanity.
A mist of scepticism that had hung over him and clouded the later yearsof his young manhood suddenly rolled away, dispelled by the splendor ofthis triumphant thought, even as the rays of the rising sun came at thesame moment to dispel the earth mists and flood the hills with light.Light; that was it! "In Him is no darkness at all."
Joyously he set himself to the preparation for the day. The true meaningof life was revealed to him. The discouragement of the evening beforewas gone. Yet now should he sit down in ecstatic dreaming? It must bejoy in life--movement--in whatever was to be done, whether in satisfyinga wholesome hunger, in creating warmth for his body, or in conqueringthe seeds of decay and disease therein, and keeping it strong and fullof reactive power for his soul's sake.
It was a revelation to him of the eternal God, wonder-working andall-pervading. Now no longer with a haunting sense of fear would hesearch and learn, but with a glad perception of the beautifulorderliness of the universe, so planned and arranged for the souls ofmen when only they should learn how to use their own lives, and attunethemselves to give forth music to the touch of the God of Love.
A cold bath, the pure air, and his abstemiousness of the previousevening gave him a compelling hunger, and it was with satisfaction hediscovered so large a portion of his dinner of yesterday remaining to bewarmed for his morning meal. What he should do later, when dinner-timearrived, he knew not, and he laughed to think how he was living fromhour to hour, content as the small wren fluting beside his door hiscare-free note. Ah, yes! "God's in His heaven, all's right with theworld."
The wren's note reminded him of a slender box which always accompaniedhis wanderings, and which had come to light rolled in the jacket whichhe had given Frale as part of his disguise. He opened it and tooktherefrom the joints of a silver flute. How long it had lain untouched!
He fitted the parts and strolled out to the rock, and there, as he gazedat the shifting, subtle beauty spread all before him and around him, helifted the wandlike instrument to his lips and began to play. At firsthe only imitated the wren, a few short notes joyously uttered; then, asthe springs of his own happiness welled up within him, he poured forth atumultuous flood of trills--a dancing staccato of mounting notes,shifting and falling, rising, floating away, and then returning insilvery echoes, bringing their own gladness with them.
The paean of praise ended, the work of the day began, and he set himselfwith all the nervous energy of his nature to the finishing of his canvasroom. Again, ere the completion of the task, he found he had beenexpending his strength too lavishly, but this time he accepted hisweariness more philosophically, glad if only he might labor and rest asthe need came.
Nearly the whole of the glorious day was still left him. In moving hiscouch nearer the door, he found his efforts impeded by some heavy objectunderneath it, and discovered, to his surprise and almost dismay, theidentical pigskin valise which Frale had taken away with him the daybefore. How came it there? No one, he was certain, had been near hiscabin since Hoyle had trotted home yesterday, hugging his picture to hisbreast.
David drew it out into the light and opened it. There on the top laythe cigars he had placed in the youth's pocket, and there also everyarticle of wearing appar
el he had seen disappear down the laurel-grownpath on Frale's lithe body twelve hours or more ago. He cast thearticles out upon the floor and turned them over wonderingly, thenshoved them aside and lay down for his quiet siesta. He would learn fromCassandra the meaning of this. He hoped the young man had got offsafely, yet the fact of finding his kindly efforts thus thrust back uponhim disturbed him. Why had it been done? As he pondered thereon, he sawagain the steel-blue flash in the young man's eyes as he turned away,and resolved to ask no questions, even of Cassandra.