Part 36 (1/2)
DEATH OF THE CRADLEBOW.
While Grandpa Keeler dozed peacefully, Emily Gaskell, also ”pa.s.sin' by,”
joined the group of women on the doorsteps of the Ark.
Emily, by the way, was regarded as a hopeful subject of the ”awakenin'.”
She had been to see a doctor in Farmouth, who told her she could not live through another winter ”with that cough on her.” She sat very still in the meetings, it was said, and seemed ”tetched and wonderful,” whereas she had been wont formerly, on occasions of this solemn nature, to evince many signs of restlessness, and even to engage in droll and sly diversions for the greater delectation of the ”unconsarned.”
Emily herself was particularly unreserved on the subject of her spiritual condition. Her tone had lost none of its former bright vivacity, though I thought I saw frequently now, while she was talking, a softer shadow steal over the restless, consuming fire in her blue eyes.
”I know what some on 'em say,” said she; ”I know what I might 'a'
said, jest as like as not, if it had been somebody else in my place. Oh, she's afraid she ain't a goin' to git well, and so she's a seekin'
religion. She's scart into it!
”Wall, if folks that know me are a mind to say that, they may; though if it comes to bein' scart into religion by what the doctors said, I should 'a' jined the church twenty times over!
”It ain't because I'm afraid o' what'll happen to me after I'm all dead and peaceable. It's because I want a little more comfort while I'm a livin'. Seems to me there's more comfort needed for the livin'.
”And ever since my Brother 'Lihu died, seems as though them last words o'
hisn have been a ringin' in my ears. 'I know somebody that'll watch. Who?
Jesus will! Jesus will!' over and over again. And when I get to worryin'
about things, and can't see no way through, or whoever's a goin' to straighten em' out, it keeps agoin', 'Who, then? Jesus will! Jesus will!'
over and over. And 'Lihu wasn't a professor, neither; and maybe he hadn't no right to take the comfort out o' them words that he did; and maybe I hain't no right, and it's only like a string o' music that'll keep a runnin' in a body's head sometimes and they not thinkin' nor meanin' any thin'.
”I don't see any further into it than I did afore. I don't know as I'm what you'd call any more believin', but when I've laid till after midnight with my eyes as wide open as daylight, and no shut to 'em, thinkin' and worryin' and coughin', I've seen it ag'in, jest the way he rolled and tossed that night, and then them words come to him, and he smiled and went to sleep peacefuller nor any child; and so _I've_ said 'em, and faith or no faith, believin' or no believin', they've set me a cryin', time and ag'in, and they've put me to sleep! thar', they've put me to sleep!”
”And who else could they 'a' be'n meant for but him and you?” cried Grandma, in a gush of sympathy; ”him and you, and anybody else as you seen needed them words and could give 'em to 'em to quiet 'em; for, dear woman! there ain't none on us that see into it, but jest to say it over.
Dear woman! we don't know no more. It's what's a restin' all on us. It's what's a restin' all on us!”
I looked up and saw tears in Madeline's eyes. I had not heard Madeline spoken of as among the number of the impressed. There were tears in my own eyes, I knew; there had grown to be such a pathos in those women's voices.
A little later, Emily lapsed into a strain of sprightly gossip.
”And who do you think's kitin' around in this region ag'in?” she began.
”Somebody you'd expect least of all, I reckon; wall, it's Dave Rollin,”
and she nodded her head quickly and expressively at the others.
”I don't mean,” she continued; ”that he's been in Wallencamp, but Levi was down from Wallen this mornin', and he said they stopped last night in Wallen Harbor--him and some other fellers, mighty stylish lookin', but he said it was Dave Rollin's yacht, as fine and fancy-rigged as ever he see, and there was some that looked like common sailors, and they all come ash.o.r.e, and the common ones was the quietest. But he reckoned the fisherman was off on 'a time,' and stopped there jest for fun, and to show off, maybe.
”Wall, Levi told me that, and to-day, 'long about the middle o' the forenoon, my man come up to the house--he's down to sh.o.r.e, you know, along o' Cap'n Sartell and George Olver and Lute Cradlebow and all the rest, down there a mendin' up the old schooner, 'cause Cap'n wanted Lute to see to it afore he went away. My man come up for a wrench, and 'Who do you think's a scootin' around down on the Bay?' says he. 'Wall, it's Dave Rollin,' says he; 'in the purtiest little craft, that runs jest like a picter,' and he said they couldn't see but two men aboard of her then; he guessed they wan't many. It was jest like Dave Rollin to take a run from Wallen down this way to show what he could do alone, for he was always braggin' about bein' so stiddy on his sea-legs, and how't he understood this sh.o.r.e better'n any o' the old uns.
”My man said they didn't know who 'twas out there, at first, for it ain't the kind o' vessel often seen, and it skimmed along on the edge o' the water, Sim said, like a bird, in and out amongst the rocks, so't anybody'd a thought, not knowin' who they was--and them, maybe, not knowin' the sh.o.r.e--that they was drunk or gone crazy; and Sim said they hollered to 'em to look out for the rocks, and they heered a kind of a laugh on the water, and somebody shouted back:
”'Stow your gab, land lubbers!' and they knew from the voice it was Dave Rollin.
”He was probably meanin' to put in there, and might 'a' come ash.o.r.e may be,--he was wild enough--but he seen our men and that kind o' hindered him; he didn't want to turn round and put right back neither, lookin'