CHAPTER XII.
"Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth-- Joy, gentle friends! joy, and fresh days of love Accompany your hearts!"--_Midsummer Night's Dream._
"I ought not to leave you in any doubts as to my meaning, Mr.Littlepage," resumed Ursula, after a short pause. "Priscilla Bayard isvery dear to me, and is well worthy of all your love and admiration----"
"Admiration, if you please, and as much as you please, Miss Ursula; butthere is no such feeling as love, as yet certainly, between Miss Bayardand myself."
The countenance of Dus brightened sensibly. Truth herself, she gaveimmediate credit to what I said; and I could not but see that she wasgreatly relieved from some unaccountable apprehension. Still, she smileda little archly, and perhaps a little sadly, as she continued--
"'As yet, certainly,' is very equivocal on your side, when a young womanlike Priscilla Bayard is concerned. It may at any moment be convertedinto '_now_, certainly,' with that certainty the other way."
"I will not deny it. Miss Bayard is a charming creature--yet, I do notknow how it is--there seems to be a fate in these things. The peculiarrelation to which I alluded, and alluded so awkwardly, is nothing morethan the engagement of my youngest sister to her brother. There is nosecret in that engagement, so I shall not affect to conceal it."
"And it is just such an engagement as might lead to one between yourselfand Priscilla!" exclaimed Dus, certainly not without alarm.
"It might, or it might not, as the parties happen to view such things.With certain temperaments it might prove an inducement; while withothers it would not."
"_My_ interest in the subject," continued Dus, "proceeds altogether fromthe knowledge I have that another has sought Miss Bayard; and I willown, with my hearty good wishes for his success. You struck me as a mostformidable rival; nor do you seem any the less so, now I know that yourfamilies are to be connected."
"Have no fears on my account, for I am as heart-whole as the day I firstsaw the lady."
A flash of intelligence--a most meaning flash it was--gleamed on thehandsome face of my companion; and it was followed by a mournful, thoughI still thought not an entirely dissatisfied smile.
"These are matters about which one had better not say much," Dus added,after a pause. "My sex has its 'peculiar rights,' and no woman shoulddisregard them. You have been fortunate in finding all your tenantscollected together, Mr. Littlepage, in a way to let you see them at asingle glance."
"I was fortunate in one sense, and a most delightful introduction I hadto the settlement--such an introduction as I would travel anotherhundred miles to have repeated."
"Are you, then, so fond of raisings? or do you really love excitement tosuch a degree as to wish to get under a trap, like one of the poorrabbits my uncle sometimes takes?"
"I am not thinking of the raising, or of the frame; although yourcourage and presence of mind might well indelibly impress both on mymind"--Dus looked down and the color mounted to her temple--"but, I wasthinking of a certain song, an Indian song, sung to Scotch music, that Iheard a few miles from the clearings, and which was my real introductionto the pleasant things one may both hear and see in this retired part ofthe world."
"Which is not so retired after all that flattery cannot penetrate it, Ifind. It is pleasant to hear one's songs extolled, even though they maybe Indian; but, it is not half so pleasant as to hear tidings ofPriscilla Bayard. If you wish truly to charm my ear, talk of _her_!"
"The attachment seems mutual, for I can assure you Miss Bayardmanifested just the same interest in you."
"In me! Priscilla then remembers a poor creature like me, in herbanishment from the world! Perhaps she remembers me so much the more,because I _am_ banished. I hope she does not, _can_not think I regret mycondition--_that_ I could hardly forgive her."
"I rather think she does not; I know she gives you credit for more thancommon excellencies."
"It is strange that Priscilla Bayard should speak of me to you! I havebeen a little unguarded myself, Mr. Littlepage, and have said so much,that I begin to feel the necessity of saying something more. There issome excuse for my not feeling in your presence as in that of astranger, since uncle Chainbearer has your name in his mouth at leastone hundred times each day. Twelve different times in one hour did hespeak of you yesterday."
"Excellent old Andries! It is the pride of my life that so honest a manloves me; and now for the explanation I am entitled to receive as hisfriend by your own acknowledgment."
Dus smiled, a little saucily I thought--but saucily or not, that smilemade her look extremely lovely. She reflected a moment, like one whothinks intensely, even bending her head under the painful mental effort;then she drew her form to its usual attitude, and spoke.
"It is always best to be frank," she said, "and it can do no harm, whileit _may_ do good to be explicit with you. You will not forget, Mr.Littlepage, that I believe myself to be conversing with my uncle's verybest friend?"
"I am too proud of the distinction to forget it, under anycircumstances; and least of all in _your_ presence."
"Well, then, I will be frank. Priscilla Bayard was for eight years myassociate and closest friend. Our affection for each other commencedwhen we were mere children, and increased with time and knowledge. Abouta year before the close of the war, my brother Frank, who is now here asmy uncle's surveyor, found opportunities to quit his regiment, and tocome to visit me quite frequently--indeed, his company was sent toAlbany, where he could see me as often as he desired. To see me, was tosee Priscilla, for we were inseparable; and to see Priscilla was, forpoor Frank at least, to love her. He made me his confidant, and my alarmwas nothing but natural concern lest he might have a rival as formidableas you."
A flood of light was let in upon me by this brief explanation, though Icould not but wonder at the simplicity, or strength of character, thatinduced so strange a confidence. When I got to know Dus better, thewhole became clear enough; but, at the moment, I was a little surprised.
"Be at ease on my account, Miss Malbone----"
"Why not call me Dus at once? You will do it in a week, like everyoneelse here; and it is better to begin our acquaintance as I am sure itwill end. Uncle Chainbearer calls me Dus; Frank calls me Dus; most ofyour settlers call me Dus, to my very face; and even our blacks call meMiss Dus. You cannot wish to be singular."
"I will gladly venture so far as to call you Ursula; but Dus does notplease me."
"No! I have become so accustomed to be called Dus by all my friends,that it sounds distant to be called by any other name. Do you not thinkDus a pretty diminutive?"
"I _did_ not, most certainly; though all these things depend on theassociations. Dus Malbone sounded sweetly enough in Priscilla Bayard'smouth; but I fear it will not be so pleasant in mine."
"Do as you please--but do not call me _Miss_ Ursula, or _Miss_ Malbone.It would have displeased me once, _not_ to have been so addressed by anyman; but it has an air of mockery, now that I know myself to be only thecompanion and housekeeper of a poor chainbearer."
"And yet, the owner of that silver, the lady I see seated at this table,in this room, is not so very inappropriately addressed as Miss Ursula!"
"You know the history of the silver, and the table and room are yourown. No--Mr. Littlepage, we are poor--very, _very_ poor--uncleChainbearer, Frank, and I--all alike, have nothing."
This was not said despairingly, but with a sincerity that I foundexceedingly touching.
"Frank, at least, should have something," I answered. "You tell me hewas in the army?"
"He was a captain at the last, but what did he receive for that? We donot complain of the country, any of us; neither my uncle, my brother,nor myself; for we know it is poor, like ourselves, and that its povertyeven is like our own, that of persons reduced. I was long a charge on myfriends, and there have been debts to pay. Could I have known it, such athing should not have happened. Now I can only repay those who havedischarged these obligations by coming into the wilderness wi
th them. Itis a terrible thing for a woman to be in debt."
"But you have remained in this house; you surely have not been in thehut, at Mooseridge?"
"I have gone wherever uncle Chainbearer has gone, and shall go with him,so long as we both live. Nothing shall ever separate us again. His yearsdemand this, and gratitude is added to my love. Frank might possibly dobetter than work for the little he receives; but _he_ will not quit us.The poor love each other intensely!"
"But I have desired your uncle to use this house, and for your sake Ishould think he would accept the offer."
"How could he, and carry chain twenty miles distant? We have been here,occasionally, a few days at a time; but the work was to be done and itmust be done on the land itself."
"Of course, you merely gave your friends the pleasure of your company,and looked a little to their comforts, on their return from a hard day'swork?"
Dus raised her eyes to mine; smiled; then she looked sad, her under-lipquivering slightly; after which a smile that was not altogether withouthumor succeeded. I watched these signs of varying feeling with aninterest I cannot describe; for the play of virtuous and ingenuousemotion on a lovely female countenance is one of the rarest sights innature.
"I can carry chain," said the girl, at the close of this exhibition offeeling.
"You _can_ carry chain, Ursula--Dus, or whatever I am to call you----"
"Call me Dus--I love that name best."
"You _can_ carry chain, I suppose, is true enough--but, you do not meanthat you _have_?"
The face of Dus flushed; but she looked me full in the eye, as shenodded her head to express an affirmative; and she smiled as sweetly asever woman smiled.
"For amusement--to say you have done it--in jest!"
"To help my uncle and brother, who had not the means to hire a secondman."
"Good God! Miss Malbone--Ursula--Dus----"
"The last is the most proper name for a chainbear_ess_," rejoined thegirl, smiling; and actually taking my hand by an involuntary movement ofher sympathy in the shock I so evidently felt. "But, why should you lookupon that little toil as so shocking, when it is healthful and honest?You are thinking of a sister reduced to what strikes you as man's properwork."
Dus relinquished my hand almost as soon as she had touched it; and shedid it with a slight start, as if shocked at her own temerity.
"What _is_ man's work, and man's work, _only_."
"Yet woman can perform it; and, as uncle Chainbearer will tell you,perform it _well_. I had no other concern, the month I was at work, thanthe fear that my strength would not enable me to do as much as my uncleand brother, and thus lessen the service they could render you each day.They kept me on the dry land, so there were no wet feet, and your woodsare as clear of underbrush as an orchard. There is no use in attemptingto conceal the fact, for it is known to many, and would have reachedyour ears sooner or later. Then concealment is always painful to me, andnever more so than when I hear you, and see you treating your hiredservant as an equal."
"Miss Malbone! For God's sake, let me hear no more of this--old Andriesjudged rightly of me, in wishing to conceal this; for I should neverhave allowed it to go on for a moment."
"And in what manner could you have prevented it, Major Littlepage? Myuncle has taken the business of you at so much the day, finding surveyorand laborers--poor, dear Frank! He, at least, does not rank with thelaborers, and as for my uncle, he has long had an honest pride in beingthe best chainbearer in the country--why need his niece scruple aboutsharing in his well-earned reputation?"
"But you, Miss Malbone--dearest Dus--who have been so educated, who areborn a lady, who are loved by Priscilla Bayard, the sister of Frank, arenot in your proper sphere, while thus occupied."
"It is not so easy to say what is the proper sphere of a woman. I admitit ought to be, in general, in the domestic circle and under thedomestic roof; but circumstances must control that. We hear of wives whofollow their husbands to the camp, and we hear of nuns who come out oftheir convents to attend the sick and wounded in hospitals. It does notstrike me, then, as so bad in a girl who offers to aid her parent as Ihave aided mine, when the alternative was to suffer by want."
"Gracious Providence! And Andries has kept me in ignorance of all this;he knew my purse would have been his, and how could you have been inwant in the midst of the abundance that reigns in this settlement, whichis only fifteen or twenty miles from your hut, as I know from thechainbearer's letters."
"Food is plenty, I allow, but we had no money; and when the question wasbetween beggary or exertion, we merely chose the last. My uncle did tryold Killian, the black, for a day; but you know how hard it is to makeone of those people understand anything that is a little intricate; andthen I offered my services. I am intelligent enough, I trust"--the girlsmiled a little proudly as she said this--"and you can have no notionhow active and strong I am for light work like this, and on my feet,until you put me to the proof. Remember, carrying chain is neitherchopping wood nor piling logs; nor is it absolutely unfeminine."
"Nor raising churches"--I answered, smiling; for it was not easy toresist the contagion of the girl's spirit--"at which business I havebeen an eye-witness of your dexterity. However, there will now be an endof this. It is fortunately in my power to offer such a situation andsuch emoluments to Mr. Malbone, as will at once enable him to place hissister in this house as its mistress, and under a roof that is at leastrespectable."
"Bless you for that!" cried Dus, making a movement toward catching myhand again; but checking it in time to render the deep blush thatinstantly suffused her face, almost unnecessary. "Bless you for that!Frank is willing to do anything that is honest, and capable of doinganything that a gentleman should do. I am the great encumbrance on thepoor fellow; for, could he leave me, many situations must be open to himin the towns. But I cannot quit my uncle, and Frank will not quit me. Hedoes not understand uncle Chainbearer."
"Frank must be a noble fellow, and I honor him for his attachment tosuch a sister. This makes me only the more anxious to carry out myintentions."
"Which are such, I hope, that there is no impropriety in his sister'sknowing them?"
This was said with such an expression of interest in the sweet, blueeyes, and with so little of the air of common curiosity, that itcompletely charmed me.
"Certainly there is none," I answered, promptly enough even for a youngman who was acting under the influence of so much ingenuous and strongnative feeling; "and I shall have great pleasure in telling you. We havelong been dissatisfied with our agent on this estate, and I haddetermined to offer it to your uncle. The same difficulty would have tobe overcome in this case, as there was in making him a safesurveyor--the want of skill in figures; now this difficulty will notexist in the instance of your brother; and the whole family, Chainbeareras well as the rest, will be benefited by giving the situation toFrank."
"You call him Frank!" cried Dus, laughing, and evidently delighted withwhat she heard. "That is a good omen; but if you raise me to the stationof an agent's sister, I do not know but I shall insist on being calledUrsula, at least, if not Miss Ursula."
I scarce knew what to make of this girl; there was so much of gayety,and even fun, blended with a mine of as deep feeling as I ever sawthrowing up its signs to the human countenance. Her brother's prospectshad made her even gay; though she still looked as if anxious to hearmore.
"You may claim which you please, for Frank shall have his name put intothe new power of attorney within the hour. Mr. Newcome has had a hint,by letter, of what is to come, and professes great happiness in gettingrid of a vast deal of unrequited trouble."
"I am afraid there is little emolument, if _he_ is glad to be rid of theoffice."
"I do not say he is _glad_; I only say he _professes_ to be so. Theseare different things with certain persons. As for the emolument, it willnot be much certainly; though it will be enough to prevent Frank'ssister from carrying chain, and leave her to exercise her talents andindustry in th
eir proper sphere. In the first place, every lease on theestate is to be renewed; and there being a hundred, and the tenantbearing the expense, it will at once put a considerable sum at yourbrother's disposition. I cannot say that the annual commissions willamount to a very great deal, though they will exceed a hundred a year bythe terms on which the lands will be relet. The use of this house andfarm, however, I did intend to offer to your uncle; and, for the samereason, I shall offer them to Frank."
"With this house and farm we shall be rich!" exclaimed Dus, clasping herhands in delight. "I can gather a school of the better class of girls,and no one will be useless--no one idle. If I teach your tenants'daughters some of the ideas of their sex and station, Mr. Littlepage,_you_ will reap the benefit in the end. That will be some slight returnfor all your kindness."
"I wish all of your sex, and of the proper age, who are connected withme, no better instructress. Teach them your own warmth of heart, yourown devotedness of feeling, your own truth, and your own frankness, andI will come and dwell on my own estate, as the spot nearest toparadise."
Dus looked a little alarmed, I thought, as if she feared she might haveuttered too much; or, perhaps, that _I_ was uttering too much. She rose,thanked me hurriedly, but in a very lady-like manner, and set aboutremoving the breakfast service, with as much diligence as if she hadbeen a mere menial.
Such was my very first conversation with Ursula Malbone; her, with whomI have since held so many, and those that have been very different! WhenI rose to seek the Chainbearer, it was with a feeling of interest in mylate companion that was as strong as it was sudden. I shall not denythat her beauty had its influence--it would be unnatural that it shouldnot--but it was less her exceeding beauty, and Ursula Malbone would havepassed for one of the fairest of her sex--but it was less her beautythat attracted me than her directness, truth, and ingenuousness, soclosely blended as all were with the feelings and delicacy of her sex.She had certainly done things which, had I merely _heard_ of them, wouldhave struck me unpleasantly, as even bold and forward, and which may nowso strike the reader; but this would be doing Dus injustice. No act, noword of hers, not even the taking of my hand, seemed to me, at the time,as in the least forward; the whole movement being so completelyqualified by that intensity of feeling which caused her to think only ofher brother. Nature and circumstances had combined to make her preciselythe character she was; and I will confess I did not wish her to be, in asingle particular, different from what I found her.
Talk of Pris Bayard in comparison with Ursula Malbone! Both had beauty,it is true, though the last was far the handsomest; both had delicacy,and sentiment, and virtue, and all that pertains to a well-educatedyoung woman, if you will; but Dus had a character of her own, andprinciples, and an energy, and a decision, that made her the girl of tenthousand. I do not think I could be said to be actually in love when Ileft that room, for I do not wish to appear so very easy to receiveimpressions as all that would come to; but I will own no female had everbefore interested me a tenth part as much, though I had known, andpossibly admired her, a twelvemonth.
In the court I found Andries measuring his chains. This he didperiodically; and it was as conscientiously as if he were weighing gold.The old man manifested no consciousness of the length of the_tete-a-tete_ I had held with his niece; but on the contrary, the firstwords he uttered were to an effect that proved he fancied I had beenalone.
"I peg your parton, lat," he said, holding his measuring rod in hismouth while he spoke. "I peg your parton, put this is very necessarywork. I do not wish to haf any of your Yankee settlers crying outhereafter against the Chainpearer's surveys. Let 'em come a huntret or at'ousant years hence, if t'ey will, and measure t'e lant; I want oltAndries' survey to stant."
"The variation of the compass will make some difference in the twosurveys, my good friend, unless the surveyors are better than onecommonly finds."
The old man dropped his rod and his chain, and looked despondingly atme.
"True," he said, with emphasis. "You haf hit t'e nail on t'e heat,Mortaunt--t'at fariation is t'e fery teffil to get along wit'! I haftriet it t'is-a-way, and I haf triet it t'at-away, and never coult Imake heat or tail of it! I can see no goot of a fariation at all."
"What does your pretty assistant Dus think of it? Dus, the prettychainbearer? You will lose your old, hard-earned appellation, which willbe borne off by Miss Malbone."
"Ten Dus has peen telling you all apout it! A woman never can keep asecret. No, natur' hast mate 'em talkatif, and t'e parrot will chatter."
"A woman likes variation, notwithstanding--did you consult Dus on thatdifficulty?"
"No, no, poy; I sait not'ing to Dus, and I am sorry she has saidanyt'ing to you apout t'is little matter of t'e chain. It was sorelyagainst my will, Mortaunt, t'at t'e gal ever carriet it a rot; and wasit to do over ag'in, she shoult not carry it a rot--yet it woult havetone your heart goot to see how prettily she did her work; and how quickshe wast, and how true; and how accurate she put down the marker; andhow sartain was her eye. Natur' made t'at fery gal for a chainpearer!"
"And a chainbearer she has been, and a chainbearer she ever will be,until she throws her chains on some poor fellow, and binds him down forlife. Andries, you have an angel with you here, and not a woman."
Most men in the situation of the Chainbearer might have been alarmed athearing such language coming from a young man, and under all thecircumstances of the case. But Andries Coejemans never had any distrustof mortal who possessed his ordinary confidence; and I question if heever entertained a doubt about myself on any point, the result of hisown, rather than of my character. Instead of manifesting uneasiness ordispleasure, he turned to me, his whole countenance illuminated with theaffection he felt for his niece, and said--
"T'e gal ist an excellent girl, Mortaunt, a capital creature! It woulthaf tone your heart goot, I tell you, to see her carry chain! Yourpocket is none t'e worse for t'e mont' she worked, t'ough I would nothaf you t'ink I charget for her ast a man--no--she is town at onlyhalf-price, woman's work peing only woman's work; and yet I do pelieve,on my conscience, t'at we went over more grount in t'at mont', t'an wecould haf tone wit' any man t'at wast to pe hiret in t'is part of t'eworlt--I do, indeet!"
How strange all this sounded to me! Charged for work done by UrsulaMalbone, and charged at half-price! We are the creatures of convention,and the slaves of opinions that come we know not whence. I had got thenotions of my caste, obtained in the silent, insinuating manner in whichall our characters are formed; and nothing short of absolute want couldhave induced me to accept pecuniary compensation from an individual forany personal service rendered. I had no profession, and it did notcomport with our usages for a gentleman to receive money for personalservice out of the line of a profession; an arbitrary rule, but one towhich most of us submit with implicit obedience. The idea that Dus hadbeen paid by myself for positive toil, therefore, was extremelyrepugnant to me; and it was only after reflection that I came to viewthe whole affair as I ought, and to pass to the credit of thenoble-minded girl, and this without any drawback, an act that did her somuch honor. I wish to represent myself as no better or no wiser, or morerational than I was; and, I fancy, few young men of my age and habitswould hear with much delight, at first, that the girl he himself feltimpelled to love had been thus employed; while, on the other hand, fewwould fail to arrive at the same conclusions, on reflection, as those Ireached myself.
The discourse with Andries Coejemans was interrupted by the suddenentrance of Frank Malbone into the court. This was my first meeting withmy young surveyor, and the Chainbearer introduced us to each other inhis usual hearty and frank manner. In a minute we were acquainted; theold man inquiring as to the success of the settlers in getting up their"meetin'-us."
"I staid until they had begun to place the rafters," answered youngMalbone, cheerfully, "and then I left them. The festivities are to endwith a ball, I hear; but I was too anxious to learn how my sisterreached home--I ought to say reached the 'Nest--to rem
ain. We havelittle other home now, Mr. Littlepage, than the hut in the woods, andthe roof your hospitality offers."
"Brother soldiers, sir, and brother soldiers in _such a cause_, ought tohave no more scruples about accepting such hospitalities, as you callthem, than in offering them. I am glad, however, that you have advertedto the subject, inasmuch as it opens the way to a proposition I haveintended to make; which, if accepted, will make me _your_ guest, andwhich may as well be made now as a week later."
Both Andries and Frank look surprised; but I led them to a bench on theopen side of the court, and invited them to be seated, while I explainedmyself. It may be well to say a word of that seat in passing. It stoodon the verge of a low cliff of rocks, on the side of the court which hadbeen defended by palisades, when the French held the Canadas, and theremains of which were still to be seen. Here, as I was told before weleft the spot, Dus, _my_ pretty chainbearer, with a woman's instinct forthe graceful and the beautiful, had erected an arbor, principally withher own hands, planted one of the swift-growing vines of our climate,and caused a seat to be placed within. The spot commanded a pleasingview of a wide expanse of meadows, and of a distant hill-side, thatstill lay in the virgin forest. Andries told me that his niece hadpassed much of her leisure time in that arbor, since the growth of theplant, with the advance of the season, had brought the seat into theshade.
Placing myself between the Chainbearer and Malbone, I communicated theintention I had formed of making the latter my agent. As an inducementto accept the situation, I offered the use of the 'Nest house and the'Nest farm, reserving to myself the room or two that had been mygrandfather's, and that only at the times of my annual visits to theproperty. As the farm was large, and of an excellent quality of land, itwould abundantly supply the wants of a family of modest habits, and evenadmit of sales to produce the means of purchasing such articles offoreign growth as might be necessary. In a word, I laid before thelisteners the whole of my plan, which was a good deal enlarged by asecret wish to render Ursula comfortable, without saying anything aboutthe motive.
The reader is not to suppose I was exhibiting any extraordinaryliberality in doing that which I have related. It must not be forgottenthat land was a drug in the State of New York in the year 1784, as it isto-day on the Miami, Ohio, Mississippi, and other inland streams. Theproprietors thought but little of their possessions as the means of_present_ support, but rather maintained their settlements than theirsettlements maintained them looking forward to another age, and to theirposterity, for the rewards of all their trouble and investments.[10]
[Footnote 10: The Manor of Rensselaerwick virtually extends forty-eightmiles east and west, and twenty-four north and south. It is situated inthe very heart of New York, with three incorporated cities within itslimits, built, in part, on small, older grants. Albany is a town ofnear, if not of quite, 40,000 souls; and Troy must now contain near28,000. Yet the late patroon, in the last conversation he ever held withthe writer, only a few months before he died, stated that _his_grandfather was the first proprietor who ever reaped any materialadvantage from the estate, and his father the first who received anyincome of considerable amount. The home property, farms and mills,furnished the income of the family for more than a century.--EDITOR.]
It is scarcely necessary to say my proposals were gladly accepted. OldAndries squeezed my hand, and I understood the pressure as fully as ifhe had spoken with the eloquence of Patrick Henry. Frank Malbone wastouched; and all parties were perfectly satisfied. The surveyor had hisfield-inkstand with him, as a matter of course, and I had the power ofattorney in my pocket ready for the insertion of the Chainbearer's name,would he accept the office of agent. That of Malbone was written in itsstead; I signed; Andries witnessed; and we left the seat together, FrankMalbone, in effect, temporarily master of the house in which we were,and his charming sister, as a necessary consequence, its mistress. Itwas a delicious moment to me, when I saw Dus throw herself into herbrother's arms and weep on his bosom, as he communicated to her thejoyful intelligence.