Old Farm Fairies Part 22

"Asleep? not they! They have done nothing the whole night but weep, and pray, and bemoan their condition."

"Poor things!" said Spite, "I suppose they are pining to see me, again!

Hey, mother?"

Dame Tigrina showed her fangs in what was intended for a grin, and led the way into the "Brownie Bower," as Spite merrily called the place where Faith and Sophia were confined.

"Good morning, my pretty birds," said the chief, as he entered the chamber. "It is rather early for a call of ceremony on young ladies.

But, really, you must excuse me for once, as time is precious just now.

Besides, I come on business,--business of great importance. And that is always a good excuse for untimely visits."

The Nurses rose as the Pixies entered the room. They stood with arms clasped about each other, casting beseeching glances at their dread enemy, but saying nothing.

"Come, Mistress Faith," continued Spite, "I have some private words to speak to you. Now no scenes, please! If you want to be well treated act sensibly. There, Sophie, you can go to the other side of the room. What I have to say concerns Faith alone."

He loosened the clasped arms of the captives and led Faith aside. The Brownie maiden shrank back from the Pixie's approach, drew herself up and stood facing her persecutor. Her face was sad almost to despair, but a quiet firmness in her eyes showed that although she thought best to be silent, she had braced herself to resist or suffer to the utmost.

"I am a plain, rough-spoken person, Faith," began Spite, "and I shall waste no words in telling you my wish and purpose. I love you. I want you for a wife. I mean to marry you."

Faith started, shrank back yet further, drew herself up yet more, but remained silent.

"I don't wish to marry in my own race, for reasons which I do not care to explain. But I have long felt the need of some one to preside over my household. I have chosen you to that honor. Are you ready to accept it without more ado?"

Faith's cheeks blushed crimson at these words. Her eyes flashed as she answered: "Spite, chief, Pixie, fiend!--whatever you call yourself, what evil spirit could have devised such an unholy scheme? Faith ally herself with you? Never! Do the worst you can do at once. I can die. I am not afraid to die. Strike! But say no more of a matter the very thought of which is revolting." She spoke quietly, but there were firmness and fire in her tones before which even Spite quailed for a moment.

He was not long abashed. "That sounds very fine," he replied, "and I suppose is the proper thing to say, and all that, in such cases. Let us take all such high and virtuous stuff for granted, however, and come straight to business. Now first, you have such an offer as no Brownie ever yet dreamed of. You may be queen of the Pixies. You shall have a palace--yes, a score of palaces if you like. Servants, honors, garments of the richest silk, table luxuries from air and earth and water--everything that heart could possibly wish of honor, riches and comfort shall be yours. What have you to say to that?"

"That not all the kingdoms of this earth, could you bestow them on me, would buy me to be a Pixie's bride."

"Then, second," continued Spite, not noticing the reply, "you will be in a position to act as a mediator between your people and ours. You could have many opportunities for doing good to your friends and kin. The alliance which I propose would also give you a power for good over our people. Even if you were asked to make a sacrifice, it would be your duty to do so since thereby you would widen the sphere of your influence. What do you say to that?"

"I say, as I have ever been taught, that it is not lawful to do evil that good may come. It is a delusion and a snare to say that such a wicked union as you ask could have any other than a disastrous end."

"Then, third," continued Spite with the same cool indifference to Faith's indignant words, "third and last, you might as well submit gracefully to your destiny. You can't help yourself. You are in my hands. I shall marry you whether you like or no. You will only bring sorrow and pain upon yourself and friends by your stubbornness, and will do no good in the end. I have finished my business. I don't mean to press it just now. Think over it carefully. If your good sense is equal to your reputation, you will conclude to live queen of the Pixies, with a good heart. The next time I come I shall expect to have your betrothal kiss. I leave you now to refresh yourself with sleep. Good night!"

While Spite was thus addressing Faith, Sophia in the other end of the room was approached by the smuggler.

"Oh, Sir," she cried, "you showed us kindness on the boat. I know you must have a good heart, even if you are a Pixie. Have pity on us, and save us from this horrible dungeon."

"Softly, softly, my pretty la.s.s," responded Raft. "You are right enough in thinking that I pity you. But it is not so easy always to indulge one's self in that luxury. It would be a mighty costly one if I were to carry it to the length you ask. But I have a proposal that may make it all right. There, listen coolly. Don't cry, please! That quite unmans me. You can get out of this trouble in an easy and pleasant way."

"Get out of this trouble?" repeated Sophia with hope and joy. "Quick, tell me how!"

"So! I am ordered by Lieutenant Hide, who is second in command over the Pixies, you know, to propose marriage to you in the name of his oldest son Halfway."

"Oh! you are mocking me!" cried Sophia, clasping her hands, and her countenance changing from hope to horror. "You cannot mean that?"

"No, certainly I am not mocking," said Raft mistaking her meaning; "he's in dead earnest, I am sure, and will stand by his proposal. He means just what he says. He wants a Brownie wife for his boy."

"O Sir," exclaimed Sophia quickly, "you misunderstand me. Nothing could induce me to listen a moment to such a proposal. I would never, never marry him!"

"Ah! that's the way the wind blows, hey? Well, there's no accounting for tastes. Young Halfway is counted a likely chap, and the best match in the country. There are scores of young Pixinees who would jump at such an offer."

"Don't speak of it! It is an insult. I would die a thousand deaths first. Never, never!"

"Well, well, you needn't go on so about it. I'm sure I meant you no harm, and I've done my duty to my captain. Hide can't gainsay that."

Sophia sank upon a cushion and wept violently. Raft looked upon her tenderly. At last he spoke:

"Look here, Miss Sophia, it may be that you'd take more kindly to a sea life, now, than to one on sh.o.r.e. If you can't marry Halfway, what do you say to Raft? You will be free as air to come and go, and be queen of the "Fringe," the fastest yacht upon the waters. You shall have no captains or lieutenants over you, nor anything else, but your own sweet will and choice. You can visit your kin when you please, spend half the time with them if you like. And, maybe, they would be willing to have me spend a good deal of time with you in the Brownie camp. P'raps I might take to Brownie ways, by and by, and turn out a sort of fairy myself. Who knows?

What say you, my pretty? Speak up and don't fear! If you'll give me the right to call you my own, I can find the way out of this cave for you and your friend Faith too, I'll be bound! Well, what is it?"

Sophia's amazement during this address was unbounded. She dropped her hands upon her lap, lifted her face and with round wondering eyes gazed in a bewildered way upon the smuggler. Her heart had been somewhat drawn toward Raft on account of his kindness. The one glint of sunshine in all the deep darkness and horror of their position, had been the rough courtesy of this Pixie sailor. But to marry him? Oh! how could she listen to such a proposal?

Yet she dared not stop Raft lest she should anger the only one who had shown himself friendly. If she should speak out her whole heart, would he not turn against her and Faith with bitterness? Then, for just one brief moment--the thought of her helplessness flashed upon Sophia's mind. All was lost to them. They were already as those who had gone down among the tombs. Would it not be right for her to save Faith, at least, by complying? Faith would be free!--Raft had promised it. She herself might be delivered from the power of Spite and Hide, who would compel her to marry Halfway. True, she would be a Pixie's wife. But how much better Raft than Halfway! How much better to be free upon the Fringe, than imprisoned in Dame Tigrina's halls? To be permitted to see home and friends as often as she wished! Ought she not to make the sacrifice, and save dear Faith?

The temptation flashed before her imagination for a moment--only for a moment. With a shudder, and a blush of self-reproach that she had even allowed the thought to rise, she put the temptation aside.

"O Sir," she exclaimed, bursting into tears, "I pray you say no more!

You have showed me some kindness; have pity on me now. I cannot do what you ask. I am betrothed to Sergeant True. The laws of my race would not allow a marriage with you or any other of your people. Such concord, fellowship, and communion we may never hold with Pixies. We dare not be thus unequally yoked together. Indeed, I would not offend you, but--"

"Tut, tut," exclaimed the smuggler interrupting her, "there's no offence in particular. If you don't accept, it's your own look out. However, I can do nothing for you in that case. If you were my wife now, I should have a right to protect you and yours against all my kith and kin. I would do it, too! But as you don't choose that, I must e'en stand by my employer, and do the best I can for him. So, say no more about it.

There! the chief is ready to leave, I see, and so good-night!"

The two Pixies left the room, and Faith and Sophia were once more alone.

Their grief was pitiful to see. There was not a ray of hope for them. O that they were dead! or, that they had never been born! So they moaned, and wept in each other's arms for long, long hours, until Nature hushed their anguish into the forgetfulness of sleep.

While the Pixie chief was off upon his mission of unrighteousness, the Brownie captain had also gone upon a journey. Leaving the command to MacWhirlie he started for the mansion with Blythe and True. The old Dutch clock in the hall rang out the hour of four as they entered the chamber window by the Virginia creeper that covered the side of the house. Night was beginning to yield before the advance of coming day,

"And now Aurora, daughter of the Dawn, With rosy l.u.s.tre purpled o'er the lawn."

How sweet, fresh and still the old place looked after the trials, fatigues and perils of the past day and night! But there was no time to indulge pleasant sentiment. Many dear interests hung upon their haste.

They crept through the window blinds, and mounted the bed posts to the coverlid close by the sleeping Governor.

Bruce spoke. Wille turned uneasily in his sleep, but made no answer.

Blythe touched his face with a sword handle. The Governor threw up his hand, opened his eyes, plucked at the netting of the canopy and muttered,

"I say, wife, the mosquitoes have got under the bar. It's very annoying!" Then he lay down again to sleep.

Once more Bruce spoke, but more loudly, "Governor Wille, Wille, Wille!"

"Oh dear!" sighed the sleeping man, "I do think the everlasting singing of those mosquitoes is worse than their bite. Couldn't you keep them out, wife?"

"Come, come," cried Bruce impatiently, "It is we--the Brownies. Wake up!

Wake, and listen to us, if you have any love or pity for your old friends."

Governor Wille was now aroused and sat up in his bed and looked down sleepily upon his fairy friends. He yawned and rubbed his eyes. "Well,"

he began, "this is a strange visit, truly. What is wanted now, pray?"

Bruce briefly related the late events, and besought his aid to recover the lost Nurses.