CHAPTER XII
ONE OF NATURE'S TRAGEDIES
I had been so interested in Mrs. Yocomb's words, their effect on thelittle group around her, and the whole sacred mystery of the scene,that I had ceased to watch the smoking mountain, with its increasinglylurid apex. In the meantime the fire had fully reached the summit, onwhich stood a large dry tree, and it had become a skeleton of flame.Through this lurid fire and smoke the full moon was rising, its silverdisk discolored and partially obscured.
This scene alone, as we gathered on the piazza and lawn below it, mightwell have filled us with awe and wonder; but a more impressivecombination was forming. Advancing from the southwest, up the star-litsky, which the moon was brightening momentarily, was a cloud whoseblackness and heaviness the vivid lightning made only the more apparent.
"I am an old man," said Mr. Yocomb, "but I never saw anything so grandas this before."
"Mother, mother," said little Zillah, "I'm afraid. Please take meupstairs and put me to bed." And the mother, to whom the scene in theheavens was a glorious manifestation of the God she loved rather thanfeared, denied herself of what was almost like a vision, for the sakeof the child.
"It's awful," said Adah; "I won't look at it any longer. I don't seewhy we can't have nice quiet showers that one can go to sleep in;" andshe disappeared within the house. Reuben sat down on the piazza, in hisquiet, undemonstrative way. Miss Warren came down and stood close toMr. Yocomb's side, as if she half unconsciously sought the good man'sprotection.
Incessant lightnings played from some portion of the cloud, zigzaggingin fiery links and forkings, while, at brief intervals, there would bean exceptionally vivid flash, followed more and more closely by heavierand still heavier explosions. But not a leaf stirred around us: thechirp of a cricket was sharply distinct in the stillness. The starsshone serenely over our heads, and the moon, rising to the left out ofthe line of the smoke and fire, was assuming her silvery brightness,and at the same time rendering the burning mountain more lurid fromcontrast.
"Herbert, Herbert, now I know how brave you were," I heard Miss Warrenexclaim, in a low, awed tone.
I saw by the frequent flashes that she was very pale, and that she wastrembling.
"You mean your brother," I said gently.
With her eyes fixed on the threatening and advancing cloud as iffascinated by it, she continued in the same tone, that was full ofindescribable dread: "Yes, yes, I never realized it so fully before,and yet I have lain awake whole nights, going, by an awful necessity,over every scene of that terrible day. He stood in his place in theline of battle on an open plain, and he watched battery after batterycome down from the heights above and open fire. He stood there till hewas slain, looking steadily at death. This cloud that is coming makesme understand the more awful storm of war that he faced. Oh, I wishthis hadn't happened," and there was almost agony in her tone. "I'm notbrave as he was, and every nearer peal of thunder shakes my very soul."
Mr. Yocomb put his hand tenderly on her shoulder as he said:
"My dear, foolish little child--as if thy Father in heaven would hurtthee!"
"Miss Warren," I said earnestly, "I have too little of Mr. and Mrs.Yocomb's faith; but it seems impossible that anything coming fromheaven could harm you."
She drew closer to Mr. Yocomb's side, but still looked at the cloudwith the same wide-eyed dread, as if spellbound by it.
"To me," she resumed in her former tone, that only became more hurriedand full of fear as the tempest approached, "these awful storms are nopart of heaven. They are wholly of earth, and seem the counterparts ofthose wild outbreaks of human passion from which I and so many poorwomen in the past have suffered;" and a low sob shook her frame. "Iwish I had more of good Mr. Yocomb's spirit; for this appalling cloudseems to me the very incarnation of evil. Why _does_ God permit suchthings?"
With a front as calm and serene as that of any ancient prophet couldhave been, Mr. Yocomb began repeating the sublime words, "The voice ofThy thunder was in the heavens; the lightnings lightened the world."
"Oh, no, no!" cried the trembling girl, "the God I worship is not inthe storm nor in the fire, but in the still small voice of love. Youmay think me very weak to be so moved, but truly I cannot help it. Mywhole nature shrinks from this." I took her hand as I said warmly, "Ido understand you, Miss Warren. Unconsciously you have fully explainedyour mood and feeling. It's in truth your nature, your sensitive,delicate organism, that shrinks from this wild tumult that is coming.In the higher moral tests of courage, when the strongest man mightfalter and fail, you would be quietly steadfast."
She gave my hand a quick, strong pressure, and then withdrew it as shesaid, "I hope you are right; you interpret me so generously that I hopeI may some day prove you right."
"I need no proof. I saw your very self in the garden."
"How strange--how strange it all is!" she resumed, with a manner thatbetokened a strong nervous excitability. "Can this be the sameworld--these the same scenes that were so full of peace and beauty anhour ago? How tremendous is the contrast between the serene, lovelyJune day and evening just passed and this coming tempest, whose sullenroar I already hear with increasing dread! Mr. Morton, you said in jestthat this was a day of fate. Why did you use the expression? It hauntsme, oppresses me. Possibly it is. I rarely give way to presentiments,but I dread the coming of this storm inexpressibly. Oh!" and shetrembled violently as a heavier peal than we had yet heard filled thewide valley with awful echoes.
"Not even a sparrow shall fall to the ground without your Father. Weare safe, my child. God will shield thee more lovingly than I;" and hedrew her closer to him.
"I know what you say is true, and yet I cannot control this mortal fearand weakness."
"No, Miss Warren, you cannot," I said; "therefore do not blameyourself. You tremble as these trees and shrubs will be agitated in afew moments, because you cannot help it."
"You are not so moved."
"No, nor will that post be moved," I replied, with a reckless laugh. "Imust admit that I am very much excited, however, for the air is full ofelectricity. I can't help thinking of the little robins in a home opento the sky."
Her only answer was a low sob, but not for a moment did she take herwide, terror-stricken gaze from the cloud whose slow, deliberateadvance was more terrible than gusty violence would have been.
The phenomena had now become so awful that we did not speak again forsome moments. The great inky mass was extending toward the eastward,and approaching the fire burning on the mountain-top, and the moonrising above and to the left of it; and from beneath its black shadowcame a heavy, muffled sound that every moment deepened and intensified.
Suddenly, as if shaken by a giant's hands, the tree-tops above usswayed to and fro; then the shrubbery along the paths seemed full ofwild terror and writhed in every direction.
Hitherto the moon had shone on the cloud with as serene a face as thatwith which Mr. Yocomb had watched its approach, but now a scud of vaporswept like a sudden pallor across her disk, giving one the oddimpression that she had just realized her peril, and then an abyss ofdarkness swallowed her up. For a few moments longer the fire burned on,and then the cloud with its torrents settled down upon it, and theluridly luminous point became opaque.
The night now alternated between utter darkness and a glare in whichevery leaf and even the color of the tossing roses were distinct.
After the first swirl of wind passed, there fell upon nature round us asilence that was like breathless expectation, or the cowering from ablow that cannot be averted, and through the stillness the sound of theadvancing tempest came with awful distinctness, while far back amongthe mountains the deep reverberations scarcely ceased a moment.
Broken masses of vapor, the wild skirmish line of the storm, passedover our heads, blotting out the stars. The trees and shrubbery werebending helplessly to the gust, and Miss Warren could scarcely standbefore its violence. The great elm swayed its drooping branches overthe house as if to protect it.
The war and whirl of the tempest was allabout us, the coming rain reminded one of the resounding footsteps ofan innumerable host, and great drops fell here and there likescattering shots.
"Come in, my child," said Mr. Yocomb; "the storm will soon be passed,and thee and the robins shall yet have quiet sleep to-night. I've seenmany such wild times among the mountains, and nothing worse thanclearer skies and better grain followed. You will hear the robinssinging--"
A blinding flash of lightning, followed by such a crash as I hope I maynever hear again, prevented further reassuring words, and he had tohalf support her into the house.
I had never been in a battle, but I know that the excitement whichmastered me must have been akin to the grand exaltation of conflict,wherein a man thinks and acts by moments as if they were hours andyears. Well he may, when any moment, may end his life. But the thoughtof death scarcely entered my mind. I had no presentiment of harm tomyself, but feared that the dwelling or outbuildings might be struck.
Almost with the swiftness of lightning came the calculation:
"Estimating distance and time, the next discharge of electricity willbe directly over the house. If there's cause, which God forbid, may Ihave the nerve and power to serve those who have been so kind!"
As I thought, I ran to an open space which commanded a view of thefarmhouse. Scarcely had I reached it before my eyes were blinded for asecond by what seemed a ball of intense burning light shot verticallyinto the devoted home.
"O God!" I gasped, "it is the day of fate." For a moment I seemedparalyzed, but the igniting roof beside the chimney roused me at once.
"Reuben!" I shouted.
A flash of lightning revealed him still seated quietly on the piazza,as if he had heard nothing. I rushed forward, and shook him by theshoulder.
"Come, be a man; help me. Quick!" and I half dragged him to aneighboring cherry-tree, against which I had noticed that a ladderrested.
By this time he seemed to recover his senses, and in less than a momentwe had the ladder against the house. Within another moment he hadbrought me a pail of water from the kitchen.
"Have two more pails ready," I cried, mounting the low, sloping roof.
The water I carried, and rain, which now began to fall in torrents,extinguished the external fire, but I justly feared that the woodworkhad been ignited within. Hastening back at perilous speed, I said toReuben, who stood ready: "Take one of the pails and lead the way to theattic and the rooms upstairs."
The house was strangely and awfully quiet as we rushed in.
I paused a second at the parlor door. Miss Warren lay motionless uponthe floor, and Mr. Yocomb sat quietly in his great armchair.
A sickening fear almost overwhelmed me, but I exclaimed loudly, "Mr.Yocomb, rouse yourself; I smell fire; the house is burning!"
He did not move nor answer, and I followed Reuben, who was half-way upthe stairs. It took but a few seconds to reach the large, old-fashionedgarret, which already was filling with smoke.
"Lead the way to the chimney," I shouted to Reuben in my terribleexcitement. "Do not waste a drop of water. Let me put it on when I findjust where the fire is."
Through the smoke I now saw a lurid point. A stride brought me thither,and I threw part of the water in my pail up against it. The hissing andsputtering proved that we had hit on the right spot, while the torrentsfalling on the roof so dampened the shingles that further ignition fromwithout was impossible.
"We must go down a moment to breathe," I gasped, for the smoke waschoking us.
As we reached the story in which were the sleeping apartments, I cried:
"Great God! Why don't some of the family move or speak?"
Hitherto Reuben had realized only the peril of his home; but now herushed into his mother's room, calling her in a tone that I shall neverforget.
A second later he uttered my name in a strange, awed tone, and Ientered hesitatingly. Little Zillah apparently lay sleeping in hercrib, and Mrs. Yocomb was kneeling by her bedside.
"Mother!" said Reuben, in a loud whisper.
She did not answer.
He knelt beside her, put his arm around her, and said, close to herear, "Mother! why don't you speak to me?" She made no response, and Isaw that she leaned so heavily forward on the bed as to indicate utterunconsciousness.
The boy sprang up, and gazed at me with wild questioning in his eyes.
"Reuben!" I said quickly, "she's only stunned by the lightning. Willyou prove yourself a man, and help me in what must be done? Life maydepend upon it."
"Yes," eagerly.
"Then help me lift your mother on the bed; strong and gentle,now--that's it."
I put my hand over her heart.
"She is not dead," I exclaimed joyously; "only stunned. Let us go tothe attic again, for we must keep shelter this wild night."
We found that the smoke had perceptibly lessened; I dashed the otherpail of water on the spot that had been burning, then found that Icould place my hand on it. We had been just in time, for there waslight woodwork near that communicated with the floor, and the attic wasfull of dry lumber, and herbs hanging here and there, that would haveburned like tinder. Had these been burning we could not have enteredthe garret, and as it was we breathed with great difficulty. The roofstill resounded to the fall of such torrents that I felt that thedwelling was safe, unless it had become ignited in the lower stories,and it was obviously our next duty to see whether this was the case.
"Reuben," I said, "fill the pails once more, while I look through thehouse and see if there's fire anywhere else. It's clear that all whowere in the house were stunned--even you were, slightly, on thepiazza--so don't give way to fright on their account. If you do as Ibid, you may do much to save their lives; but we must first make surethe house is safe. If it isn't, we must carry them all out at once."
He comprehended me, and went for the water instantly.
I again looked into Mrs. Yocomb's room. It was impregnated with astrong sulphurous odor, and I now saw that there was a discolored linedown the wall adjoining the chimney, and that little Zillah's cribstood nearer the scorching line of fire than Mrs. Yocomb had been. Butthe child looked quiet and peaceful, and I hastened away.
My own room was dark and safe. I opened the door of Miss Warren's room,and a flash of lightning, followed by complete darkness, showed thatnothing was amiss.
I then opened another door, and first thought the apartment on fire, itwas so bright; but instantly saw that two lamps were burning, and thatAdah lay dressed upon the bed, with her face turned toward them. Bythis common device she had sought to deaden the vivid lightning. Herface was white as the pillow on which it rested; her eyes were closed,and from her appearance she might have been sleeping or dead. Eventhough almost overwhelmed with dread, I could not help noting herwonderful beauty. In my abnormal and excited condition of mind,however, it seemed a natural and essential part of the strange,unexpected experiences of the day.
I was now convinced that there was no fire in the second story, and thethought of Miss Warren drew me instantly away. I already had a strangesense of self-reproach that I had not gone to her at once, feeling asif I had discarded the first and most sacred claim. I met Reuben on thestairway, and told him that the second story was safe, and asked him tolook through the first story and cellar, and then to go for a physicianas fast as the fleetest horse could carry him.