Part 24 (1/2)
CHAPTER XVIII.
REUBEN SMITH, ACCESSORY
The wheels belonged to Squire Pettijohn's buggy, in which were seated Aunt Eunice and himself. This was a combination which, as Katy related it from the window, greatly astonished Moses. Yet there was nothing surprising in the fact, after all. The gentleman had chanced to be up-mountain, calling at the same house where Miss Maitland was visiting, and had offered to take her home, hearing her say that she was anxious to be there early on the morrow.
She had not enjoyed her ride, yet blamed herself for her aversion to a neighbor who, if not a gentleman, had learned sufficient good manners to conduct himself as nearly such. The worst annoyance he had given her was by continual and roundabout references to what had happened in the forest. The more she evaded his questions the more direct they became, till she was almost forced to tell everything or be imputed a liar.
As they turned into the village street he made a final effort for enlightenment, saying:
”You must know, Miss Maitland,”--he did not call her ”Eunice” to her face as he had done behind her back to Susanna,--”you must know that in keeping this treasure, or whatever was found in your woods, a secret from others, you are injuring somebody. They say you are conniving at the escape of a tramp, even. A tramp! One of those dangerous creatures which infest our State, but have not before invaded Marsden. I flatter myself that I--that I--have so far prevented their coming, and I am certainly making it my business now to unearth this one who, I am told, lurks princ.i.p.ally in your forest. You are a large-hearted, generous lady, Miss Maitland; one who is an honor to her towns.h.i.+p and whom I am proud to call a neighbor--”
”Indeed? I thank you,” said Aunt Eunice, stiffly.
Squire Pettijohn ignored the interruption. He meant to make the most of this unlooked-for chance to satisfy his curiosity and his self-importance, and continued as if she had not spoken:
”But who, I fear, sometimes lets her heart run away with her head. In pitying the individual, namely, the tramp in present question, you should also remember that you are endangering the community.”
”Nonsense. But may I ask, in turn, from whom you gained your information that I protected the tramp?”
”Hm-m--Er--Ah! I believe it was Mrs. Turner who said that you said you 'hoped if any poor hungry wretch strayed into this village of plenty he would get enough to eat for once.' That you 'had always regretted we had no really poor people in Marsden, where they could be cared for, and so lessen the number of starving persons elsewhere.' Mrs. Turner made a personal application of the remark, and suggested that if it had been _your_ pies which had been purloined you might feel differently.”
Eunice laughed as gaily as a girl, and exclaimed:
”So it has grown to be 'pies,' has it? The last time I heard the matter mentioned it was one possible pie, and Robert, as well as a tramp, had been in the locality where they were set to cool. Besides, it would be an excellent thing if they had all been taken. Mrs. Turner is a nice woman, but she can't make pastry fit to eat, as witness her husband's dyspepsia. Monty says they have pie at the Turners three times a day, and it's a paradise for hungry small visitors who can digest anything.
Indeed, I am surprised to learn I gave my neighbor offence on this same pie subject. We talked for some time over it and she fell into my idea that fruit for dessert would suit Mr. Turner far better than pastry, and save her a world of trouble. It would also diminish the number of the children's playmate 'droppers-in' at meal-times. Yes, I am surprised.”
They had come within sight of The Maples, and Squire Pettijohn had, with apparent carelessness, let back the top of the buggy so that any who cared might observe him riding with the mistress of that fine old estate and the present centre or heroine of so much mystery. This was an unusual thing to do, for letting carriage-tops back is apt to crack the leather, and ”Jim” Pettijohn cracked nothing which could be preserved.
Eunice comprehended and smiled quietly in her corner of the seat, talking at length as she had done to stave off any further prying into her affairs.
Even yet she was not to be let free. Said the gentleman, with a preliminary cough:
”I do hope and trust, dear Miss Maitland, that you will forego a mistaken expression of sympathy, should an appeal be made to you, and a.s.sist me as a magistrate to nip this evil in the bud. In other words, to send this vagrant to the lockup at the earliest possible moment. As I observed, you owe it to your community to protect it, not endanger it.”
Eunice turned her glowing eyes upon him. ”And I owe to the Great Father, who has given us this day, to be good to every child of His, however humble. If the tramp comes to my door he shall be fed. If he needs shelter I will shelter him. If he needs clothing I will clothe him.
Why, look, man, look!” spreading her hand wide to point out the lovely surroundings: ”Should anybody come into all this and go away not the better for it? How do we know what chance has brought this stranger hither? Or what and where his life began? Maybe, in just some such favored country village; and once, at least, he was--somebody's son.”
The tenderness of her compa.s.sionate tone but hardened the other's purpose.
”Huh! If he were my _own_ son, even, I would have the law on him to the fullest extremity!” he answered, harshly; and Eunice s.h.i.+vered, remembering, as he seemed to have forgotten, that poor son of his who had gone astray and might be roaming the world then, as was this unknown who had so stirred the lawyer's wrath.
Baffled yet persistent, as he helped her alight at her own threshold, the Squire put one more sudden question:
”But, after all, there was something--_something_--found in your woods that day, wasn't there?”
It was not even in Eunice's patience to endure thus much. Caught unawares, she burst out, indignantly:
”Yes, there was something found, but it does not concern anybody to know what. Thank you for your courtesy, and--good evening.”
The lawyer drove homeward satisfied. She had admitted ”the find.” He would now proceed to unearth it. Incidentally, he would unearth the tramp, but that was, in his estimation, a secondary matter.