Hardscrabble; or, the fall of Chicago Part 8

CHAPTER VII.

Leaving the little party in the dismay occasioned by their new position, and that at a moment when they believed themselves secured from further interruption or danger, we must now return to the Fort, where their long-continued absence, coupled with the startling tidings conveyed by Ephraim Giles, had created equal anxiety and apprehension.

It will be recollected that during the examination of the latter, Ensign Ronayne had, after communicating with the commanding officer, suddenly departed across the river, taking with him a few armed men. The destination of this little party was the cottage occupied by Mrs.

Heywood and her daughter, who, with a woman servant, were the sole occupants of a dwelling, simple in construction, but decorated, both within and without, by the hand of good taste. It was a low, one-storied building, painted white, with green window-blinds and shutters, and a verandah of trellis work of the same color, that extended a few feet square round the princ.i.p.al entrance. On either side, rose to the roof, on parallel lines, and at equal distances, cords of strong twine, on which already had began to interlace themselves, the various parasites indigenous to the soil, which winter had robbed of their freshness, but which a southern sun was now evidently vivifying and re-invigorating.

A small garden of about half-an-acre, surrounded by a similar trellis-work, extended equally in front, and on the sides of the house--while the graceful form given to the various beds, and the selection of the plants and flowers, which, although still in their dormant state, were yet recognizable--testified the refined taste of those who had a.s.sisted at their culture. The pathway, which was recently gravelled from the adjacent sand-hills, ran in a straight line from the verandah, toward the little green gate, opening on the front of the garden, took a semi-circular sweep on either side, at about one-third of the distance from the gate. This form had been given to it for the purpose of affording room for the creation of a mound, on the summit of which had been placed a small summer-house, octagon in shape, and constructed of the same description of trellis-work. The sloping sides of the mound itself, were profusely covered with dahlias, rhododendrons, geraniums, and other plants of the most select kind--the whole forming, when in bloom, a circle of floral magnificence. A short and narrow path, just large enough to admit of the pa.s.sage of one person at a time, led to the entrance of the summer-house, which, facing the gate, was also shaded from the light and heat of the sun's rays, by closely interlacing vines.

At the bottom of this artificial mound, and near the pathway, a small spud, such as is used for pruning, was stuck into some earth, newly drawn round a splendid tiger lily, and on the handle of the spud, were loosely thrown a white silk jacket, a blue velvet cap, and a light pink scarf--evidencing that no ordinary gardener had been that day employed in bringing into new life the gorgeous beauties of the variegated parterre.

"Little did I think," mused the young officer, as, leaving his party at the gate, and hastening towards the cottage, his eye fell upon those articles of dress--"little did I imagine when I threw off these things a few hours since, to obey a summons to the Fort, that on my return to them, it would be with this heavy heart, and as the bearer of these tidings--but I must be cautious in my disclosure. Dear girl, here she is!"

"Why, Ronayne, what in the name of Heaven is the meaning of all this?

Are you here to take the castle by storm, with all these armed warriors?

A few hours since you were a man of peace, and now I behold in you a most approved and valiant knight of the true American school. Sword, cap, feather, epaulet, blue broad-cloth, and silver. Well it must be confessed that you are not a bad imitation of a soldier, in that garb, and it is in pity to me, I suppose, that you do not wear it oftener.

But seriously, Harry, do satisfy my curiosity, and tell me the reason of this unusual--manner of visit!"

The question was asked playfully, but in tones replete with sweetness, by a tall and elegantly-formed girl, who on turning the further circle of the walk, in her approach to her favorite flower-bed, had for the first time, beheld the young officer, and the party stationed at the gate.

"Nay, dear Maria," returned the youth, deeply grieved at the thought of casting a gloom over the spirits of her who thus rallied him. "I am sorry to say my errand is not one of mere parade--I have come to announce that which will give you pain; and but that I am charged with the agreeable duty of making you a prisoner, I never should have had the courage to be the bearer of the intelligence."

Miss Heywood turned very pale, less at the words even than at the manner of the young officer, who it was evident, felt all the weight of the task he had undertaken.

"Ronayne," she said, her voice suddenly a.s.suming a rich melancholy of intonation, in strange contrast with her first address, "there is more in this than you would acquaint me with. But, tell me," and she fixed her large dark eyes on his--"tell me all. What pain is it you fear to occasion me, and how is it connected with my being a prisoner? Ha!" and she grasped his arm, and betrayed deep agitation--"surely nothing in my father's conduct--"

"No, no, Maria," returned the youth, quickly, "far from anything of the kind, and yet it is of your father I would speak. But have you heard nothing since I left you. Have you seen no one?"

"I have heard nothing--seen not a soul from without," she answered, as he tenderly pressed the hand he had taken--"But, Ronayne," she pursued, with melancholy gravity--"a sudden light dawns upon me--my heart tells me that some misfortune or other has happened, or is about to happen--you say you would speak about my father. You are the bearer of ill-news in regard to him. Yes, I know it is so; tell me, Harry," and she looked imploringly up to him, "am I not right?--my father has been attacked by Indians, and he has fallen. Oh! you do not deny it!"

"Nay, dearest Maria, I know nothing of the kind, although I will not conceal from you that there is danger--you have guessed correctly as to the Indians having been at the farm, but little certain is known as to the result of their visit. That half idiot Ephraim Giles, has come in with some wild story, but I daresay he exaggerates."

Miss Heywood shook her head doubtingly. "You deceive me, Ronayne--with the best intention, but still you deceive me. If you really think the rumor be exaggerated, why your own restlessness and seriousness of manner? Harry, this is no time for concealment, for I feel that I can better bear the truth NOW than LATER. Do not hesitate then to tell me all you know."

"True, my love, this is no time for concealment since such be the state of your feelings. I was unwilling to admit my own apprehension on the subject, fearing that you might be ill-prepared for the disclosure; but after what you have just urged, the blow can never fall less heavily than now. You must know, then, that a party of hostile Indians have, there is too much reason to fear, used violence toward the inmates of the farm-house, but to what extent we have no means of knowing; though such is the alarm created by their presence that Headley, who you know is the very soul of caution, has ordered every white in the neighborhood of the Fort, to be removed for safety within its walls."

"Would that instead of THAT," remarked Miss Heywood, with solemnity, "he had despatched those soldiers, whom I see there fully armed, to the rescue of my poor father. Perhaps he might be saved yet--the house is strong, and might be defended for some time, even by a couple of men."

"And me at their head. Is it not so, Maria?" inquired the youth.

"Yes, and you at their head, dear Ronayne," repeated Miss Heywood; "to no one sooner would I be indebted for my father's safety, as no one would, I am sure, more cheerfully attempt his deliverance."

The young American mused a moment, and then rejoined, despondingly; "Were these men at my disposal, Maria, how gladly would I hasten to encounter every difficulty, the removal of which would spare your gentle bosom those pangs; but you know Headley would never permit it. His prudence is a mania, and even were he to yield his consent--let me not sustain you with delusive hopes--I fear it would be too late."

"G.o.d's will be done," she e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, as the large tears fell trickling down her pallid cheeks, "but what will become of my poor and now nearly death-stricken-mother, when she hears of this?"

"The blow is indeed a fearful one, but act, I pray you, with courage.

Consider, too, your own safety. No one knows the force of the Indians, or how soon they may be here. Go in, dearest, prepare what you may more immediately require for a few days, and my men will carry your trunks down to the scow which is waiting to receive you."

"And if I should consent to go, Ronayne, you know my poor mother cannot rise from her bed. What do you propose to do with her? To remove her, and let her know WHY she is removed, would soon finish the work her debilitating disease has begun."

"I have made every necessary provision," answered the young officer, glad to find that her thoughts could be diverted from the immediate source of her sorrow. "Elmsley's wife, to whom I spoke a few hurried words on leaving, is even now preparing for your temporary reception, and I have thought of an excuse to be given to your mother. You must for once in your life use deceit, and say that Van Vottenberg desires her presence in the fort, because his duties have become so severe that he can no longer absent himself to bestow upon her that professional care she so much requires. Nay, look not so incredulous. I am aware that the pretext is a meagre one, but I cannot at present think of a better; and in her enfeebled state she will not dwell upon the strangeness of the plea. Go on then, I entreat you, and desire Catherine to collect what you will want, while my men carry to the scow such articles of furniture as will be most useful to you in your new quarters. Quick, dear Maria, I implore you, there has already been too much time lost, and I expect every moment an order from Headley to return immediately."

Sensible of a pressing emergency. Miss Heywood, with a beating heart, regained the cottage, in which so many blissful hours had been pa.s.sed within the last two years, undisturbed by a care for the future, while the young officer joining his men, left one to take care of the arms of the party, and with the remainder hastened to the house making as little noise as possible, in order not to disturb the invalid. Having chosen such articles of furniture as he knew Mrs. Elmsley was most deficient in, and among these a couch and a couple of easy-chairs (which latter indeed were the work of his own hands), they were conveyed to the scow in two trips, and then followed three or four trunks into which had been thrown, without regard to order, such wearing apparel, and necessaries of the toilet as the short period allowed for preparation had permitted the agitated girl to put together. The most delicate part of the burden, however, yet remained to be removed, and that was the invalid herself.

Desiring his men to remain without, the youth, whose long and close intimacy with the family rendered such a step by no means objectionable, entered the apartment of Mrs. Heywood, who had already been prepared by her daughter for the removal, and with the a.s.sistance of Catherine raised the bed on which she lay, and transferred it to a litter brought for the occasion. This they carefully bore through the suite of small and intervening rooms to the front, where two of the men relieved them, Catherine walking at the side, and unnecessarily enjoining caution at every step.

"This is, indeed, an unexpected change, Ronayne," said Miss Heywood, sadly, "but this morning, and I was so happy, and now! These poor flowers, too (for after having fastened the windows and doors of the house, they were now directing their course towards the mound), that parterre which cost us so much labor, yes, such sweet labor, must all be left to be destroyed by the hand of some ruthless savage. Yet, what do I say," she pursued, in a tone of deep sorrow, "I lament the flowers; yes, Ronayne, because they have thriven under your care, and yet, I forget that my father perhaps no longer lives; that my beloved mother's death may be the early consequence of this removal. Yet think me not selfish.

Think me not ungrateful. Come what may, you will yet be left to me. No, Harry," and she looked up to him tearfully, "I shall never be utterly dest.i.tute, while you remain."

"Bless you, thrice bless you for these sweet avowals of your confidence," exclaimed the youth, suddenly dropping her arm, and straining her pa.s.sionately to his heart. "Yes, Maria, I shall yet remain to love, to cherish, to make you forget every other tie in that of husband--to blend every relationship in that of one."

"Nay, Ronayne," she quickly returned, while the color mounted vividly to her cheek, under the earnest ardor of his gaze, "I would not now unsay what I have said, and yet I did not intend that my words should exactly bear that interpretation--nor is this a moment--"

"But still you will be my wife--tell me, Maria?" and he looked imploringly into her own not averted eyes. "You will be the wife, as you have long been the friend and companion of your Ronayne--answer me. Will you not?"

Her head sank upon his shoulder, and the heaving of her bosom, as she gently returned his embrace, alone conveyed the a.s.surance he desired.

She was deeply affected. She knew the ardent, generous nature of her lover, and she felt that every word that had just fallen from his lips, tended only to unravel the true emotions of his heart: but soothing as was his impa.s.sioned language, she deemed it almost criminal, at such a moment, to listen to it.

"Nay, dearest Harry," she said, gently disengaging herself from his embrace, "we will be seen. They may wonder at our delay, and send somebody back from the scow. Let us proceed."

"You are right," replied the young officer, again pa.s.sing her arm through his own, while they continued their route, "excess of happiness must not cause me to commit an imprudence so great, as that of suffering another to divine the extent. Yet one word more, dear Maria! and ah!

think how much depends upon your answer. WHEN shall I call you mine?"

"Oh! speak not now of that, Ronayne--consider the position of my father--my mother's health."

"It is for that very reason that I do ask it," returned the youth.

"Should Heaven deprive you of the one, as it in some degree threatens you with the loss of the other, what shall so well console you as the tenderness of him who is blessed with your love?"

"Hush, Harry," and she fondly pressed his arm--"they will hear you."

They had now approached the scow, into which the men, having previously deposited the furniture and trunks, were preparing to embark the litter upon which Mrs. Heywood lay extended, with an expression of resignation and repose upon her calm features, that touched the hearts of even these rude men. Her daughter, half-reproaching herself for not having personally attended to her transport, and only consoled by the recollection of the endearing explanation with her lover, which had chanced to result from her absence, now tenderly inquired how she had borne it, and was deeply gratified to find that the change of air, and gentle exercise to which she had been subjected, had somewhat restored her. Here was one source of care partly removed, and she felt, if possible, increased affection for the youth to whose considerate attention was owing this favorable change in the condition of a parent, whom she had ever fondly loved.

It was near sunset when Ronayne, who, with the robust Catherine, had carefully lifted the invalid into the centre of the scow, reached the landing-place below the Fort. Here were collected several of the women of the company, and among them Mrs. Elmsley, who had come down to meet and welcome those for whose reception she had made every provision the hurried notice she had received would permit. The young officer had been the first to step on sh.o.r.e, and after he had whispered something in her ear, she for a moment communicated with the group of women--then advanced to meet Miss Heywood, whom her lover was now handing from the scow. She embraced her with a tenderness so unusually affectionate, that a vague consciousness of the true cause flashed across the mind of the anxious girl, recalling back all that inward grief of soul, which the deep emotion of an engrossing love had for a time absorbed.

In less than half-an-hour the fugitives were installed in the council hall, and in another small apartment, dividing it from the rooms occupied by the Elmsleys. The ensign, having seen that all was arranged in a suitable manner in the former, went out to the parade-ground, leaving the ladies in charge of their amiable hostess, and of the women she had summoned to a.s.sist in bearing the latter into the Fort.

On his way to his rooms, he met Captain Headley returning from an inspection of the defences. He saluted him, and was in the act of addressing him in a friendly and familiar tone, when he was checked by the sharply-uttered remark:

"So, sir, you are returned at last. It seems to me that you have been much longer absent than was necessary."

The high spirit of the youth was chafed. "Pardon me, sir," he answered haughtily, "if I contradict you. No one of the least feeling would have thought of removing such an invalid as Mrs. Heywood is, without using every care her condition required. Have you any orders for me, Captain Headley?" he concluded, in a more respectful manner, for he had become sensible, the moment after he had spoken, of his error in thus evincing asperity under the reproof of his superior.

"You are officer of the guard, I believe, Mr. Ronayne?"

"No, sir, Mr. Elmsley relieved me this morning."

At that moment the last-named officer came up, on his way to the ensign's quarters, when, the same question having been put to him, and answered in the affirmative, Captain Headley desired that the moment the fishing-party came in they should be reported to him. "And now, gentlemen," he concluded, "I expect you both to be particularly on the alert to-night. The absence of that fishing-party distresses me, and I would give much that they were back."