Part 33 (1/2)

”Yes; it is very suggestive, too,” answered Mrs. Van Vorst, ”for it makes one think of the witches in Macbeth, as they stood around the cauldron watching their queer concoction 'boil and bubble.'”

”O dear!” was Nita's wail again, ”it is lovely to see the fire and the girls, but I do want to hear the stories they tell.”

”Perhaps Nathalie will come up later,” suggested her mother, ”and tell you some of the thrillers. Is that what she calls them?”

”There, they have stopped the witches' dance and are forming a circle.

Oh, one of the girls has thrown on a bundle of f.a.gots! Yes, it's that friend of Nathalie's, Miss Sensible. Oh, Mother,” cried the little shut-in with a woeful countenance, ”I am sure I could walk down there.”

She stood up as she spoke and began to walk restlessly up and down the room.

”Oh, Nita, be careful!” pleaded her mother. ”You do not want to overdo your walking, and you have been on your feet a good deal to-day.”

Notwithstanding Mrs. Van Vorst's protest there was a note of hope in her voice that betrayed that she had at last begun to see things as Nathalie had predicted, that she had made a mistake in housing her daughter behind high walls, and that the mingling with girls of her own age might bring new life to her.

”Ah, there's Grace,” went on the voice at the window. ”She's the other girl who came with Nathalie. Oh, she's throwing on her f.a.gots!” The girl turned from the window as she perceived that Ellen had entered the room and was telling her mother that some one desired to see her in the library.

As Mrs. Van Vorst arose to leave the room Nita demurred, ”Oh, Mother, I don't want to be left here alone.”

”I will return as soon as possible, Nita, dear,” was the reply; ”Ellen will stay with you. You can tell her about the f.a.got party,” she added hastily as she saw the cloud on the girl's face. With a backward glance, as she hurried from the room, she saw that her suggestion had been followed and that Ellen had drawn her chair close to Nita's, and was eagerly listening as her daughter related the incidents leading up to the demonstration down on the lawn.

Indeed it was not long before the faithful nurse, always interested in anything to brighten the life of her young charge, was watching the Pioneers and their doings as keenly as Nita, while wis.h.i.+ng with her that they could hear the stories the girls were telling.

Suddenly Nita, who had been unusually silent for some time, drew Ellen's head down to hers, and began to whisper softly in her ear.

”Oh, Ellen, will you?” she coaxed pleadingly, as she finished her whispering of something that had brought a protest from the good woman.

Ellen looked dubious for a minute or so, and then the persuasive pleader had her way, for Ellen had given her a.s.sent and Nita was clapping her hands happily, as she thought of the fun in store for her later in the evening.

Meanwhile, the girls on the lawn with tense expectancy kept their eyes on Nathalie, who arose, walked towards the flaming pyre, and with a quick toss landed another bundle of f.a.gots on the leaping flames.

”Oh, Nathalie, you will have to hurry,” called Grace excitedly, as her friend scurried back to her seat. ”One of your f.a.gots is already ablaze.”

Nathalie needed no warning for she had already plunged into her tale, and in short, concise sentences-she had practiced with Helen-was describing in graphic tone a colonial wedding, the going away of the bridal pair, the building of a log hut in the wilderness, the departure of the young husband, and the loneliness of the young bride. She paused a moment and drew a long breath as if to gather her forces for the coming ordeal.

Then with her eyes fastened in a rigid stare on the twirling glare from the flames-so as to bring her story to a proper climax when the fiery f.a.gots fell apart-she went on and told of the face of a redskin suddenly being thrust into a window of the little cabin, of a shriek of terror, of cruel, fiendish laughter, of the fair bride being carried on the back of a tall savage, and of the final arrival at an Indian encampment, where a paint-bedaubed warrior with flaunting head-gear tried to induce the wailing bride to become his squaw.

Nathalie's eyes, big in the flaming redness of the firelight, were riveted on the seething flames as if she saw in the twist and curl of their darting tongues the enactment of the story she was telling. The girls all bent forward eagerly, for the f.a.gots were getting ready to burst apart as she told of the imprisonment of the bride, the making of a big bonfire, the tying of the bride to the stake, the lighting of the underbrush at her feet, and the whirling flames as they leaped up and greedily licked the terror-stricken face.

But Nathalie, like a photo-play screen, had transported her listeners to a sun-baked plain, where a white man was galloping in mad speed. A f.a.got had leaped from its fellows. ”Oh, Nathalie, hurry!” whispered Grace, wringing her hands nervously. Ah, but Nathalie was on time, and as the f.a.gots gave a loud snap and fell into a shower of twinkling lights the horseman came galloping into the street of the Indian encampment with a troop of soldiers close at his heels, and leaped into the fiery embers and cut-There was a loud clapping followed by cries of applause, for there was no need to tell what happened after that leap into the fire, every one knew.

”Now, Lillie, it is your turn!” shouted several voices as Nathalie, exhausted by her strenuous race between words and flames, sank back somewhat exhausted against her friend's shoulder.

Lillie Bell, in response to her name, seized a bundle of f.a.gots, and with a few flourishes, which she declared to be an incantation for success, threw it on the blazing pile. In a moment she was back in her seat and had started her tale of romance.

”When Was.h.i.+ngton Irving's headless horseman was the terror of the Hudson, a party of young girls, who were wandering in the fields one moonlight night, was chased by a huge and airy phantom to the banks of the river. In order to escape their foe two of the girls darted into an empty boat fastened near the bank and rowed out into the stream. The phantom, a strange and weird object, pursued, swimming rapidly in the wake of the canoe.

”Suddenly, to the horror of the girls crouched up against a rock on sh.o.r.e they saw, in a broad band of moonlight s.h.i.+ning on the water, that the phantom was the headless one. Even as they gazed it had reached the boat, and with one sweep of its mighty arm had grabbed one of the girls from her sister's clutch, and was swimming swiftly back to land.

”The girl in the boat rowed quickly back, only to see, with her companions on sh.o.r.e, the phantom disappear into the woods. With phenomenal courage she flew after the headless one, screaming with all her strength. But alas, her speed and screams were of no avail, for she ran after the phantom only to see it dash into an uninhabited mansion that stood in a park thick with the gloom of forest trees.

”Horror-stricken, the girls hastened home and parties were sent in pursuit of the stolen girl, but no trace of her was found, although the empty mansion, dark with the forest gloom was searched from attic to cellar.

”Time pa.s.sed, and the maiden returned not to her home, nor was any trace of her ever discovered, although every effort possible had been made. At last her sister, loved by a young farmer, refused to marry him unless he would visit the haunted mansion at midnight, to see if possibly he could obtain any clew to her sister's whereabouts, it being generally believed that she had been murdered in the house and that her ghost haunted the abode.