From Jest to Earnest Part 66

But Hemstead and Lottie scarcely needed language. The old, subtile interchange of thought and sympathy had been regained. Every moment she bravely sat with him facing the storm that wild night seemed an a.s.surance that she was both able and willing to face every storm of life at his side.

But as the wind grew more violent, and drove the sharp crystals into their faces with stinging force, he, out of regard for her comfort, said: "Miss Marsden, it is both brave and kind of you to sit here so patiently, but really the wind is growing too severe.

Even if I had had the impression which you were so mistaken as to charge me with, long before this it would have been banished forever by your words and action. If you will take the next seat, and sit with your back to the wind, you will not feel it half so much."

"Will you do the same?" she asked.

"I cannot."

"Then neither can I. I shall keep my word, Mr. Hemstead."

"You are a brave girl, Miss Marsden."

"Well, that is nothing. Why have I not as good a right to be a brave girl as you to be a brave man?"

"You also appear to have the ability."

"O, I don't deserve any credit. I'm not a bit afraid. Indeed, I rather enjoy it. I've plenty of warm blood, and can make as good a fight against the north wind as yourself. This isn't half as hard as facing evil and unhappy thoughts before a blazing fire, and I have had too much of that to do of late to complain of this."

"But it seems a miracle to me that one with your antecedents can regard the situation in any way save with unqualified disgust."

"Do you regard the situation with 'unqualified disgust'?"

"Well, to tell the truth, were it not for my anxiety about getting you all home safely, I was never in a situation to enjoy myself more."

"What precious fools we two must be, in the world's estimation! We both have admitted that we are enjoying ourselves under circ.u.mstances in which only Mark Tapley, I think, could be 'jolly';" and the gale bore away her mirthful laugh like a shred from a silver flag.

"O dear!" whined Bel and Addie; "it's perfectly awful."

And awful, indeed, it became, a few minutes later; for, having pa.s.sed over a steep but sheltered section of the road, they came to a point where the north-east wind struck them strongly. At the same moment the storm appeared to develop into tenfold intensity, and to equal those terrible tempests on the prairies in which Hemstead remembered, with a shudder, that strong men and horses had perished within a few yards of shelter. They, alas! were now a long way from any house, and in the midst of the lonely mountains.

It had also become so dark that he had to leave the choice of the road mainly to the horses.

At first these sagacious animals stopped, and refused to go any farther. Hemstead waited a few moments, in hope that the gust or gale would expend itself, and, in the mean time, instinctively put his arm around Lottie, to keep her from being blown off the seat.

"Miss Marsden," he said, close to her ear, "pardon me, but I fear this tempest will carry you away. The horrible thought crossed my mind that you might be caught in a sort of whirlwind and spirited off in this thick darkness where I could not find you."

"Would it trouble you very much if you could not find me?"

"O, don't speak of it! I would give years of my life if you were safe at home."

"Don't be so reckless with your years. I am very well content to be where I am."

"But there is danger."

"There is no more danger for me than for you."

"Are you not afraid?"

"I am just about as much afraid as you are"; and, to his amazement, he found her laughing.

"Well," he exclaimed, "if you can laugh under these circ.u.mstances, you exceed any woman I ever read or heard of. We are in twice as much danger as when I went out in the boat the other night."

"Are you now satisfied that Lottie Marsden, in particular, is not weak and cowardly, as compared with her braver sisters?"

Before he could answer, De Forrest growled, "Why don't you go on?"

Addie and Bel were cowering in the bottom of the sleigh, and supposed he was merely giving the horses a rest.

Just then there appeared a momentary lull in the gale; so he merely said: "Forgive me for even seeming to hint to the contrary," and then urged the horses forward.

The road now presented its side to the wind, and so was filled with drifts, while its lower side was a precipitous bank that shelved off into unknown depths. The horses plunged with difficulty through one drift, and the sleigh tipped dangerously. Addie and Bel screamed, and De Forrest began, in trepidation, to realize their situation.

The poor beasts were soon floundering through another drift. Suddenly there came a sharp crack, as if something had broken, and one of the horses appeared to have fallen. Worse still, the lower runner of the sleigh seemed sinking in the snow to that degree that a moment later they would be overturned into the darkness that yawned in the direction of the steep mountain slope.

Hemstead instantly sprang out on the lower side, with the purpose of preventing the accident. Lottie as quickly sprang out on the upper side, and cried: "You push, and I will hold"; and so it happened that she did quite as much as he in saving the party from disaster.

Indeed, if the sleigh had gone over, it would have carried him who was on the lower side down with it.

The horses, in their wise instinct, keeping still, Hemstead first came round to where Lottie stood.

"Why, Miss Marsden!" he exclaimed, "you are up to your waist in the snow."

"Well, it won't drown me. This is a great deal better than rolling down the mountain."

"I could kneel at your feet," said the student, fervently.

"Ha, ha, ha," laughed Lottie. "You couldn't find them."

"This is no laughing matter," said De Forrest, at last aroused to their danger, and standing up for the first time.

"Then get out and do something, like Miss Marsden," said Hemstead.

"Come, right up the sleigh while I look after the horses."

A little later he came back to Lottie, and said: "Miss Marsden, I scarcely dare tell you the truth. The tongue of the sleigh and some of the most important parts of the harness are broken. Besides, I have been up the road a short distance, and there are drifts that are up to the horses' necks. I fear we can go no farther. O G.o.d!"

he added in agony, "what can I do for you? The idea of your perishing with cold in this horrible place to-night!"

Lottie laid her hand upon his arm, and said earnestly; "Mr. Hemstead, please let there be no more such talk. It's no worse for me than for you. Besides, if we will trust G.o.d and use our wits, there is no need of any one's perishing. If we were out of the wind it would not be so very cold. Why, there is enough warmth in the big bodies of those horses to keep us from freezing, if it comes to the worst."

"There!" he exclaimed, "you have given me hope and courage, and in a sentence. The coachman was captain on my former occasion of danger, and you shall be captain now. You have the clearest and best head of the party. I am at your service."

"Will you do as I bid you?"

"Yes"

"Take care of yourself somewhat, then."

"I can best do that by taking care of you."

"You can do nothing pleasing to me that will bring harm to yourself," she said. "We must get out of the wind, and if nothing better offers, must bury ourselves in the snow be-side the horses.

I remember reading of such things. The sleigh robes and the warmth of their bodies would keep us from freezing; I'm not so very cold."