Part 4 (1/2)
The tones of her voice recalled the stranger's wandering mind, and he answered: ”Your voice is like Rose, but I would rather see you, Maggie Miller. I like your fearlessness, so unlike most of your s.e.x. Rose is far more gentle, more feminine than you, and if her very life depended upon it she would never dare leap that gorge.”
The young man intended no reproof; but Maggie took his words as such, and for the first time in her life began to think that possibly her manner was not always as womanly as might be. At all events, she was not like the gentle Rose, whom she instantly invested with every possible grace and beauty, wis.h.i.+ng that she herself was like her instead of the wild madcap she was. Then, thinking that her conduct required some apology, she answered, as none save one as fresh and ingenuous as Maggie Miller would have answered: ”I don't know any better than to behave as I do. I've always lived in the woods--have never been to school a day in my life--never been anywhere except to camp-meeting, and once to Douglas' store in Worcester!”
This was entirely a new phase of character to the man of the world, who laughed aloud, and at the mention of Douglas' store started so quickly that a spasm of pain distorted his features, causing Maggie to ask if he were badly hurt.
”Nothing but a broken leg,” he answered; and Maggie, to whose mind broken bones conveyed a world of pain and suffering, replied: ”Oh, I am so sorry for you! and it's my fault, too. Will you forgive me?” and her hands clasped his so pleadingly that, raising himself upon his elbow so as to obtain a better view of her bright face, he answered, ”I'd willingly break a hundred bones for the sake of meeting a girl like you, Maggie Miller.”
Maggie was unused to flattery, save as it came from her grandmother, Theo, or old Hagar, and now paying no heed to his remark she said: ”Can you stay here alone while I go for help? Our house is not far away.”
”I'd rather you would remain with me,” he replied; ”but as you cannot do both, I suppose you must go.”
”I shan't be gone long, and I'll send old Hagar to keep you company.”
So saying, Maggie climbed the bank, and, mounting Gritty, who stood quietly awaiting her, seized the other horse by the bridle and rode swiftly away, leaving the young man to meditate upon the novel situation in which he had so suddenly been placed.
”Aint I in a pretty predicament!” said he, as he tried in vain to move his swollen limb, which was broken in two places, but which being partially benumbed did not now pain him much. ”But it serves me right for chasing a harum-scarum thing when I ought to have been minding my own business and collecting bills for Douglas & Co. And she says she's been there, too. I wonder who she is, the handsome sprite. I believe I made her more than half jealous talking of my golden-haired Rose; but she is far more beautiful than Rose, more beautiful than anyone I ever saw. I wish she'd come back again,” and, shutting his eyes, he tried to recall the bright, animated face which had so lately bent anxiously above him. ”She tarries long,” he said at last, beginning to grow uneasy. ”I wonder how far it is; and where the deuce can this old Hagar be, of whom she spoke?”
”She's here,” answered a shrill voice, and looking up he saw before him the bent form of Hagar Warren, at whose door Maggie had paused for a moment while she told of the accident and begged of Hagar to hasten.
Accordingly, equipped with a blanket and pillow, a brandy bottle and camphor, old Hagar had come, but when she offered the latter for the young man's acceptance he pushed it from him, saying that camphor was his detestation, but he shouldn't object particularly to smelling of the other bottle!
”No, you don't,” said Hagar, who thought him in not quite so deplorable a condition as she had expected to find him. ”My creed is never to give young folks brandy except in cases of emergency.” So saying, she made him more comfortable by placing a pillow beneath his head; and then, thinking possibly that this to herself was a ”case of emergency,” she withdrew to a little distance, and sitting down upon the gnarled roots of an upturned tree drank a swallow of the old Cognac, while the young man, maimed and disabled, looked wistfully at her.
Not that he cared for the brandy, of which he seldom tasted; but he needed something to relieve the deathlike faintness which occasionally came over him, and which old Hagar, looking only at his mischievous eyes, failed to observe. Only those who knew Henry Warner intimately gave him credit for many admirable qualities he really possessed--so full was he of fun. It was in his merry eyes and about his quizzically shaped mouth that the princ.i.p.al difficulty lay; and most persons, seeing him for the first time, fancied that in some way he was making sport of them. This was old Hagar's impression, as she sat there in dignified silence, rather enjoying, than otherwise, the occasional groans which came from his white lips. There were intervals, however, when he was comparatively free from pain, and these he improved by questioning her with regard to Maggie, asking who she was and where she lived.
”She is Maggie Miller, and she lives in a house,” answered the old woman rather pettishly.
”Ah, indeed--snappish, are you?” said the young man, attempting to turn himself a little, the better to see his companion. ”Confound that leg!” he continued, as a fierce twinge gave him warning not to try many experiments. ”I know her name is Maggie Miller, and I supposed she lived in a house; but who is she, anyway, and what is she?”
”If you mean is she anybody, I can answer that question quick,”
returned Hagar. ”She calls Madam Conway her grandmother, and Madam Conway came from one of the best families in England--that's who she is; and as to what she is, she's the finest, handsomest, smartest girl in America; and as long as old Hagar Warren lives no city chap with strapped-down pantaloons and sneering mouth is going to fool with her either!”
”Confound my mouth--it's always getting me into trouble!” thought the stranger, trying in vain to smooth down the corners of the offending organ, which in spite of him would curve with what Hagar called a sneer, and from which there finally broke a merry laugh, sadly at variance with the suffering expression of his face.
”Your leg must hurt you mightily, the way you go on,” muttered Hagar; and the young man answered: ”It does almost murder me, but when a laugh is in a fellow he can't help letting it out, can he? But where the plague can that witch of a--I beg your pardon, Mrs. Hagar,” he added hastily, as he saw the frown settling on the old woman's face, ”I mean to say where can Miss Miller be? I shall faint away unless she comes soon, or you give me a taste of the brandy!”
This time there was something in the tone of his voice which prompted Hagar to draw near, and she was about to offer him the brandy when Maggie appeared, together with three men bearing a litter. The sight of her produced a much better effect upon him than Hagar's brandy would have done, and motioning the old woman aside he declared himself ready to be removed.
”Now, John, do pray be careful and not hurt him much!” cried Maggie, as she saw how pale and faint he was, while even Hagar forgot the curled lip, which the young man bit until the blood started through, so intense was his agony when they lifted him upon the litter. ”The camphor, Hagar, the camphor!” said Maggie; and the stranger did not push it aside when her hand poured it on his head, but the laughing eyes, now dim with pain, smiled gratefully upon her, and the quivering lips once murmured as she walked beside him, ”Heaven bless you, Maggie Miller!”
Arrived at Hagar's cottage, the old woman suggested that he be carried in there, saying as she met Maggie's questioning glance, ”I can take care of him better than anyone else.”
The pain by this time was intolerable, and scarcely knowing what he said the stranger whispered, ”Yes, yes, leave me here.”
For a moment the bearers paused, while Maggie, bending over the wounded man, said softly: ”Can't you bear it a little longer, until our house is reached? You'll be more comfortable there. Grandma has gone to England, and I'll take care of you myself!”
This last was perfectly in accordance with Maggie's frank, impulsive character, and it had the desired effect. Henry Warner would have borne almost death itself for the sake of being nursed by the young girl beside him, and he signified his willingness to proceed, while at the same time his hand involuntarily grasped that of Maggie, as if in the touch of her snowy fingers there were a mesmeric power to soothe his pain. In the meantime a hurried consultation had been held between Mrs. Jeffrey and Theo as to the room suitable for the stranger to be placed in.
”It's not likely he is much,” said Theo; ”and if grandma were here I presume she would a.s.sign him the chamber over the kitchen. The wall is low on one side, I know, but I dare say he is not accustomed to anything better.”
Accordingly several articles of stray lumber were removed from the chamber, which the ladies arranged with care, and which when completed presented quite a respectable appearance. But Maggie had no idea of putting her guest, as she considered him, in the kitchen chamber; and when, as the party entered the house, Mrs. Jeffrey, from the head of the stairs, called out, ”This way, Maggie; tell them to come this way,” she waved her aside, and led the way to a large airy room over the parlor, where, in a high, old-fas.h.i.+oned bed, surrounded on all sides by heavy damask curtains, they laid the weary stranger. The village surgeon arriving soon after, the fractured bones were set, and then, as perfect quiet seemed necessary, the room was vacated by all save Maggie, who glided noiselessly around the apartment, while the eyes of the sick man followed her with eager, admiring glances, so beautiful she looked to him in her new capacity of nurse.