A Day of Fate

  CHAPTER XII

  THE HOPE OF A HIDDEN TREASURE

  The next day I lured Reuben off on a fishing excursion to a mountainlake, and so congratulated myself on escaping ordeals to which I foundmyself wholly unequal. We did not reach the farmhouse till quite latein the evening, and found that Mr. Hearn and Miss Warren were outenjoying a moonlight ride. As on the previous evening, all the familygathered around Reuben and me as we sat down to our late supper, thelittle girls arranging with delight the sylvan spoil that I had broughtthem. They were all so genial and kind that I grieved to think that Ihad but one more evening with them, and I thought of my cheerlessquarters in New York with an inward shiver.

  Before very long Mr. Hearn entered with Miss Warren, and the banker wasin fine spirits.

  "The moonlit landscapes were divine," he said. "Never have I seen themsurpassed--not even in Europe."

  It was evident that his complacency was not easily disturbed, for Ithought that a more sympathetic lover would have noted that hiscompanion was not so enthusiastic as himself. Indeed Miss Warren seemedto bring in with her the cold pale moonlight. Her finely-chiselled ovalface looked white and thin as if she were chilled, and I noticed thatshe shivered as she entered.

  "Come," cried Mr. Yocomb, in his hearty way; "Emily, thee and Mr. Hearnhave had thy fill of moonlight, dew, and such like unsubstantial stuff.I'm going to give you both a generous slice of cold roast-beef. That'swhat makes good red blood; and Emily, thee looks as if thee needed alittle more. Then I want to see if we cannot provoke thee to one of thyold-time laughs. Seems to me we've missed it a little of late. Thylaugh beats all thy music at the piano."

  "Yes, Emily," said Mr. Hearn, a little discontentedly, "I think you aregrowing rather quiet and _distraite_ of late. When have I heard one ofyour genuine, mirthful laughs?"

  With a sudden wonder my mind took up his question. When had I heard herlaugh, whose contagious joyousness was so infectious that I, too, hadlaughed without knowing why? I now remembered that it was before hecame; it was that morning when my memory, more kind than my fate, stillrefused to reveal the disappointment that now was crushing my verysoul; it was when all in the farmhouse were so glad at my assuredrecovery. Reuben had said that she was like a lark that day--that sheequalled Dapple in her glad life. I could recall no such day since,though her lover was present, and her happiness assured. Even he wasbeginning to note that the light of his countenance did not illumineher face--that she was "quiet and _distraite_."

  Manlike, I had to think it all out, but I thought swiftly. The echo ofhis words had scarcely died away before the light of a great hopeflashed into my face as my whole heart put the question:

  "Can it be only sympathy?"

  She met my eager glance shrinkingly. I felt almost as if my lifedepended on the answer that she might consciously or unconsciouslygive. Why did she fall into painful and even piteous confusion?

  But her womanly pride and strong character at once asserted themselves,for she arose quietly, saying, "I do not feel well this evening," andshe left the room.

  Mr. Hearn followed precipitately, and was profuse in his commiseration.

  "I shall be well in the morning," she said, with such clear, confidentemphasis that it occurred to me that the assurance was not meant forhis ears only; then, in spite of his entreaties, she went to her room.

  I wanted no more supper, and made a poor pretence of keeping Reubencompany, and I thought his boy's appetite never would be satisfied. Mymind was in such a tumult of hope and fear that I had to strive with mywhole strength for self-mastery, so as to excite no surmises. Mrs.Yocomb gave me a few inquiring glances, thinking, perhaps, that I wasshowing more solicitude about Miss Warren than was wise; but in factthey were all so simple-hearted, so accustomed to express all theythought and felt, that they were not inclined to search for hidden andsubtle motives. Even feigning more bungling than mine would have keptmy secret from them. Adah seemed relieved at Miss Warren's departure.Mr. Hearn lighted a cigar and sat down on the piazza; as soon aspossible I pleaded fatigue and retired to my room, for I was eager tobe alone that I might, unwatched, look with fearful yet glistening eyeson the trace I had discovered of an infinite treasure.

  I again sat down by the window and looked into the old garden. Thepossibility that the woman that I had there seen, undisguised in herbeautiful truth, might be drawing near me, under an impulse too strongto be resisted, thrilled my very soul. "It's contrary to reason, toevery law in nature," I said, "that she should attract me with suchtremendous gravitation, and yet my love have no counteraction.

  "And yet," I murmured, "beware--beware how you hope. Possibly she ismerely indisposed. It is more probable that her feelings toward you arethose of gratitude only and of deep sympathy. She is under theimpression that you saved her life, and that she has unwittinglyblighted yours; and, as Mrs. Yocomb said, she is so kind-hearted, sosensitive, that the thought shadows her life and robs it of zest andhappiness. You cannot know that she is learning to return your love inspite of herself, simply because she is pale and somewhat sad. Shewould think herself, as she said, inhuman if she were happy and serene.I must seek for other tests;" and I thought long and deeply. "Oh, WillShakespeare!" I at last murmured, "you knew the human heart, if any oneever did. I remember now that you wrote:

  "'A murd'rous guilt shows not itself more soon Than love that wouldseem hid.'

  "Oh, for the eyes of Argus. If all the mines of wealth in the worldwere uncovered, and I might have them all for looking, I'd turn awayfor one clear glimpse into her woman's heart to-night. Go to New Yorkon Monday! No, not unless driven away with a whip of scorpions. Noeagle that ever circled those skies watched as I'll stay and watch forthe faintest trace of this priceless secret. No detective, stimulatedby professional pride and vast reward, ever sought proof of 'murd'rousguilt' as I shall seek for evidences of this pure woman's love, formore than life depends on the result of my quest."

  Words like these would once have seemed extravagant and absurd, but inthe abandon of my solitude and in my strong excitement they butinadequately expressed the thoughts that surged through my mind. But asI grew calmer, Conscience asked to be heard.

  "Just what do you propose?" it asked; "to win her from another, who nowhas every right to her allegiance and love? Change places, and howwould you regard the man who sought to supplant you? You cannot winhappiness at the expense of your honor."

  Then Reason added, with quiet emphasis, "Even though your conscience isnot equal to the emergency, hers will be. She will do what seems rightwithout any regard for the consequences. If you sought to woo her now,she would despise you; she would regard it as an insult that she wouldnever forgive. It would appear proof complete that you doubted hertruth, her chief characteristic."

  Between them they made so strong a case against me that my heart sankat the prospect. But hope is the lever that moves the world onward, andthe faint hope that had dawned on my thick night was too dear andbright a one to leave me crushed again by my old despondency, and Ifelt that there must be some way of untangling the problem. If the wallof honor hedged me in on every side, I would _know_ the fact to be truebefore I accepted it.

  "I do not propose to woo her," I argued; and possibly my goodresolution was strengthened by the knowledge that such a course wouldbe fatal to my hope; "I only intend to discover what may possiblyexist. I never have intentionally sought to influence her, even by aglance, since I knew of her relation to Mr. Hearn. I'm under noobligation to this prosperous banker; I'm only bound by honor in theabstract. They are not married. Mrs. Yocomb would say that I had beenbrought hither by an overruling Providence--it certainly was not aconscious choice of mine--and since I met this woman everything hasconspired to bring me to my present position. I know I'm not to blamefor it--no more than I was for the storm or the lightning bolt. What aclod I should be were I indifferent to the traits that she hasmanifested! I feel with absolute certainty that I cannot help theimpression that she has made on me. If I could have foreseen it all,
Imight have remained away; but I was led hither, and kept here by myillness till my chains are riveted and locked, and the key is lost. Icannot escape the fact that I belong to her, body and soul.

  "Now suppose, for the sake of argument, that gratitude, respect,friendliness, a sense of being unprotected and alone in the world, haveled to her engagement with the wealthy, middle-aged banker, and thatthrough it all her woman's heart was never awakened: such a thing atleast is possible. If this were true, she would be no more to blamethan I, and we might become the happy victims of circumstances. I'm notworthy of her, and never shall be, but I can't help that either. Afterall, it seems to me that that which should fulfil my hope is not aledger balance of good qualities, but the magnetic sympathy of twonatures that supplement each other, and were designed for each other inHeaven's match-making. Even now my best hope is based on the truth thatshe attracts me so irresistibly, and though a much smaller bodymorally, I should have some corresponding attraction for her. If herwoman's heart has become mine, what can she give him? Her very truthmay become my most powerful ally. If she still loves him, I will goaway and stay away; if it be in accordance with my trembling hope, Ihave the higher right, and I will assert it to the utmost extent of mypower. Shall the happiness of two lives be sacrificed to his unflaggingprosperity? Could it ever be right for him to lead her body to thealtar and leave her heart with me? Could she, who is truth itself, gothere and perjure herself before God and man? No! a thousand times no!It has become a simple question of whom she loves, and I'll find out ifShakespeare's words are true. If she has love for me, let her bury itnever so deeply, my love will be the divining-rod that will inevitablydiscover it."

  Having reached this conclusion, I at last slept, in the small hours ofthe night.

  I thought I detected something like apprehension in her eyes when I mether in the morning. Was she conscious of a secret that might revealitself in spite of her? But she was cheerful and decided in her manner,and seemed bent on assuring Mr. Hearn that she was well again, and allthat he could desire.

  Were I in mortal peril I could not have been more vigilantly on myguard. Not for the world would I permit her to know what was passing inmy mind--at least not yet--and as far as possible I resumed my oldmanner. I even simulated more dejection than I felt, to counterbalancethe flash of hope that I feared she had recognized on the previousevening.

  I well knew that all her woman's strength, that all her woman's prideand exalted sense of honor would bind her to him, who was serenelysecure in his trust. My one hope was that her woman's heart was myally; that it would prove the strongest; that it would so assert itselfthat truth and honor would at last range themselves on its side. Littledid the simple, frank old Quaker realize the passionate alternations ofhope and fear that I brought to his breakfast-table that bright Sunday.

  All that my guarded scrutiny could gather was that Miss Warren was alittle too devoted and thoughtful of her urbane lover, and that hercheerfulness lacked somewhat in spontaneity.

  It was agreed at the breakfast-table that we should all go to meeting.

  "Mrs. Yocomb," I said, finding her alone for a moment, "won't you bemoved this morning? I need one of your sermons more than any heathen inAfrica. Whatever your faith is, I believe in it, for I've seen itsfruits."

  "If a message is given to me I will not be silent; if not, it would bepresumptuous to speak. But my prayer is that the Spirit whom we worshipmay speak to thee, and that thou wilt listen. Unless He speaks, my poorwords would be of no avail."

  "You are a mystery to me, Mrs. Yocomb, with your genial homely farmlife here, and your mystical spiritual heights at the meeting-house.You seem to go from the kitchen by easy and natural transition toregions beyond the stars, and to pass without hesitancy from thecompanionship of us poor mortals into a Presence that is to mesupremely awful."

  "Thee doesn't understand, Richard. The little faith I have I take withme to the kitchen, and I'm not afraid of my Father in heaven because heis so great and I'm so little. Is Zillah afraid of her father?"

  "I suppose you are right, and I admit that I don't understand, and Idon't see how I could reason it out."

  "God's children," she replied, "as all children, come to believe manyblessed truths without the aid of reason. It was not reason that taughtme my mother's love, and yet, now that I have children, it seems veryreasonable. I think I learned most from what she said to me and did forme. If ever children were assured of love by their Heavenly Father, wehave been; if it is possible for a human soul to be touched by loving,unselfish devotion, let him read the story of Christ."

  "But, Mrs. Yocomb, I'm not one of the children."

  "Yes, thee is. The trouble with thee is that thee's ashamed, or atleast that thee won't acknowledge the relation, and be true to it."

  "Dear Mrs. Yocomb," I cried in dismay, "I must either renounceheathenism or go away from your influence," and I left precipitately.

  But in truth I was too far gone in human idolatry to think long uponher words; they lodged in my memory, however, and I trust will neverlose their influence.