The Independence Day Horror at Killsbury Part 2

CHAPTER V.

INSANITY OR EXILE.

For weeks and weeks after the terrible death of Laurens Cornwallis, the life of his sister Ruth hung on a thread. She was delirious. She cried out incessantly. "O Laurens! Laurens! beautiful angel! Come back! come back! Speak to me Laurens! Kiss me, Laurens!"

They feared her brain was going.

"If we could only make her think he had come back," said the perplexed doctor--"create a sort of counter delusion."

They tried it each in turn with no effect--the mother at last.

"Oh, she does not even hear me," sobbed the mother. "Her sense of hearing must be already gone, only her sight remains. Her eyes were fixed on the door in the far end of the room, as though she expected to see him come through that door, when she calls."

This gave the doctor a new idea.

"Then we must have some one that looks like him come through that door, in response to her call--some one that knew him and loved him and would be in full sympathy with her in regard to his death."

"Ralph Norwood!" exclaimed Mr. and Mrs. Cornwallis in the same breath.

"And he must have the kite in his hand," said Mr. Cornwallis.

"Yes, and I must make him a George Washington cap and whole suit if necessary" said Mrs. Cornwallis. "Ralph is older but he is small of his age and Laurens was large. Besides he is resourceful. He might make himself look younger than he is."

Ralph was sent for at once. He too, had been ill from the shock of Lauren's death but he aroused himself and came to the rescue. He dressed himself in the George Washington suit. He donned the Can't-tell-a-lie cap which Mrs. Cornwallis had made the crowning glory, by adding to it Lauren's beautiful curls, which had been clipped from his head by the thoughtful undertaker.

He took the kite in hand and waited by the door until Ruth called out: "Laurens come back! Come back! Speak to me angel! kiss me!"

Then he opened the door and responded to the call. The effect was magical. She fancied it was Laurens. She talked and laughed and slept in that belief. When she awoke, she took her food and medicine from his hand. She did whatever he asked her to do. She was finally saved, brain intact.

But this was not the end of little Ruth's misery and the anxiety of her parents. She was in a state of nervous wreck that required fully as much watchfulness, if not quite so much solicitude as that of the mental stress. Sudden noises, especially those of an explosive nature, such as the firing of a gun or pistol, would cause a nervous shock, from which it would take days and often weeks to recover. But worse than all was her horror of Independence Day. She looked forward to its coming with a dread, akin to terror.

"O what shall we do now, Doctor? What can we do?" asked her mother.

"Take her away out of sight and sound of it," replied the doctor, "and give her immediate a.s.surance that you will do so."

"But where to go, Doctor? This terrible thing is everywhere more or less."

"Out of the country. To Europe or Canada, where they don't pretend to have an Independence Day," replied the doctor, smiling grimly.

"O Doctor! What cruel mockery is this--this being compelled to go away from our home! It seems such a shame--a positive disgrace!"

"They are not to be weighed in the balance," said the doctor seriously. "It is a matter of life or death, nerve or no nerve, to your child. If you will begin promptly and continue to take her away every year as long as the present symptoms remain, she may get well in time. Otherwise I will not answer for the result. Another Independence Day as full of racket and accident as the last, would be likely to bring on a mental lapse, for which there would be no hope. The only really safe thing to do is to take a month's vacation--that is, go out of the country three weeks before Independence Day and stay until two weeks after. That would cover the time which is usually seized upon by the independent and ignorant boys and hoodlums of the community, to put the rest of the people in chains and agony--or exile."

"O! O! Doctor! Is there no better way? Could we not go among them and talk to them and tell them just how it is with us and ask them to be quiet?"

The doctor shook his head. "I have tried that without effect more than once in the case of very sick patients. It will take years of talk and legislation and education to silence the loud-mouthed monster--and you can't wait for that."

"Lord help us to do it then and bring us out of it with health and strength to fight against this terrible evil!" sobbed Mrs. Cornwallis. "O, it seems to me there is no place in this world for the sick, the helpless, and the afraid."

"Not even in your beautiful new world," said the doctor. He was a German but he was honest and the reply struck home with double force. She held a long consultation with her husband that evening and they decided to carry out his instructions faithfully. Consequently every year before the Independence Day racket began they sought out a quiet spot on the Canadian border--or rather a place where the American citizen freighted with children and firecrackers was never known to come. It was not always an easy or an agreeable task, to find just such a place; but it had to be found, else the going away would be of no avail.

Ralph was invited to go with them at first and did go as a matter of course, until one fateful year when the parents suddenly awoke to the fact that Ralph was growing a mustache and Ruth was developing into a rather shy but pretty young maiden. The next year they went without him; and the next. Then the unexpected happened. Ruth was disinclined to go, to begin with; but the doctor shook his head and they went. They had been there only a few days, however, when the long avoided American family made a descent on the boarding house.

"Yes, here they are at last," said Mr. Cornwallis, as soon as he had given them a thorough looking over--"the pestiferous boys, the rackety firecrackers, the indulgent mamma and the blindly patriotic papa, if I mistake not. I fear we shall have to move on."

"No! no, papa! Let's stay. I'm sure I can endure it now. I'm so much better and perhaps we can talk to them and tell them about our experience with the dangerous things and make them more careful. Let's try it, papa. I hate the idea of running away from our own people. I begin to think it isn't quite right."

"It's far safer to stay here than to go home," remarked Mrs. Cornwallis, "where there are hundreds of armed boys to the four that are here."

Mr. Cornwallis gave it up and they stayed.

Ruth lost no time in making the acquaintance of the American family, at least of Mrs. Bearington and the boys, nor any opportunity of impressing upon them the danger of playing with fireworks. She gave her own experience as proof. She told them of the terrible accidents that had happened in her own town and of her little brother's mysterious death that had wrecked her health, broken her father's and mother's hearts and made them fugitives from home.

"Do you hear that, Robbie," said Mrs. Bearington to her oldest son. "You know that mamma has always been afraid you would get hurt, handling those dreadful things."

"Papa bought them for us and I want mine now," said the boy bluntly. "I know how to handle them."

"Have a care my boy. You may not know as much as you think you do. If you should have an accident, your papa would never buy any more for you, and mamma would never forgive herself," said Mrs. Bearington in her soft-hearted, unreasoning way.

"But the accident!" gasped Ruth. "How can you risk it? It might be of the kind that could never be repaired--the loss of a hand or an eye!"

"Oh! dear, dear! it's too horrible to think of," exclaimed Mrs. Bearington, nervously.

"Perhaps if you should think of it, you would see your way out," persisted Ruth. "There are so many beautiful things made for children now-a-days." Then, she turned to the boys and asked: "Can't you tell me of anything you would like better than those evil looking, nasty smelling, dangerous fire crackers and things? Something that you could keep instead of burning up?"

The three older boys maintained a dubious silence while Teddy the youngest cried out: "O mamma! I'd rather have a bugle! A real nice big bugle!"

"He makes me think of little Laurens," said Ruth turning to Mrs. Bearington with a sob. "He asked mamma 'why they didn't have a bugle instead of a cannon on Schwarmer Hill,' the very morning before he was killed."

They looked at each other for a moment in sympathetic silence. Then Mrs. Bearington turned quite bravely to the boys.

"See here, boys, mamma is going to ask papa not to buy you any more fireworks. Mamma is going to hunt the city over next year and find you some things that you will like better--bugles! tambourines! trumpets! bicycles!"

CHAPTER VI.

THE FUNNY FOURTH RACKET ON ENGLISH SOIL.

Ruth hoped that her talk, painful though it had been to herself, would have a good influence with the Bearingtons. She would have been quickly undeceived, had she heard a conversation that occurred later on when Mr. Bearington came in from his "smoke walk," as his wife called it.

"Papa," said Mrs. Bearington, "I wish you hadn't bought the fireworks! Miss Cornwallis has just been telling me the particulars of her little brother's terrible death. I begin to be awfully worried for fear the boys will hurt themselves."

"O nonsense, Tishy! You needn't worry. I will attend to that racket. The Cornwallis' are cranks on the subject, you may set that down. I have heard Cornwallis talk. He thinks because his little boy got killed other boys should be denied the privilege," laughed Bearington.

"Privilege, papa!" gasped Mrs. Bearington, looking at him in a way as helpless and childish as her style of addressing him warranted.

"O, you never can take a good round joke, Tishy; but you can stop worrying and you must. You must remember that I paid for this vacation and I am bound you shall not take it out in worriment."

"Perhaps you could dispose of the fireworks papa--then I could not worry about them."

"No, he won't!" shouted Robbie bristling up. "He bought them for us and we are going to have them."

"Down there! Young America!" said Bearington. "And you Tishy! You forget that we are on English soil. There isn't any demand here for Independence Day jubilators."

"Nor for Fourth of July celebrations either, papa. There's Colonel Jordan. I know he wouldn't call for one."

"He can't help himself though. That's where the fun will come in. I reckon we will teach this English boarding house that if they have us and our money, they will have to take us, Fourth of July racket and all."

"But the Cornwallis', papa. I know how I should feel if we should lose one of our boys in that fearful way."

"That boy didn't know how to handle fireworks, you bet," put in Robbie.

"He may have been a natural born idiot for anything we know," remarked Bearington. "He was too good and beautiful to live anyway, according to their account."

"Papa, how bu'ful do I have to be to be too bu'ful to live?" asked little Teddy coming up and laying his curly head lovingly on his father's knee.

"Like a lamb for the slaughter," thought his mother. She broke out afresh: "Powder and dynamite are always more or less dangerous, papa."

"Never you mind, Tishy. They are safe enough if rightly handled; and right enough, too, when they are put to the right uses."

"What's the use of powder and die-a-mite except to celebrate the Fourth with, papa?" asked Joey.

"Die-a-mite! do you hear that Tishy?" laughed Bearington. "Well sonny, they are good to blast the rocks with and the English too and send them flying up hill and down, if they should meddle with our affairs as they did before the revolutionary war and have tried to do, two or three times since."

"Keeo!" shouted Robbie. "Skippetty hop! Hoppetty skip! Bow-wow! Bow-wow!" In response to his call, the three other boys joined him and they went "skippetty hop" into the back yard to worry Colonel Jordan's English terrier.

Query. Was it the inward cussedness of the boy nature that led them on to this species of brute torture, or was it their father's injudicious talk?

Mr. Bearington had been all suavity when talking with Mrs. and Mr. Cornwallis about the coming celebration. He even intimated that they might go over to a neighboring island and have their little picnic all by themselves.

"One day is enough for my boys," he added. "I make them do all their celebrating on the identical day. I don't believe in drizzling along in such matters more than in others."

Whereupon Mr. and Mrs. Cornwallis thanked him heartily and rested in the belief that he would not allow his boys to indulge in any annoying demonstrations on their daughter's account, even during Independence Day; but they like Ruth were greatly mistaken. The day had scarcely dawned when the racket began; and a big racket it was for four small boys to make. But that was not all of it. When they sat down to breakfast they found a firecracker under each plate and the boys were not in evidence, which showed that more mischief was brewing.

"The good for naught imps!" exclaimed the landlady as she cleared away the stuff; "they have been trying to be funny all the morning--throwing torpedoes under my feet and snapping firecrackers in my face. I am glad I don't live in an independent country if that's the independence of it."

There were twenty firecrackers, one for each boarder. She put them into the cupboard to get them out of the way and thanked her stars that she had been able to do so before the rest of her boarders came in--especially Colonel Jordan who inclined to be violent if anything went amiss. He had cursed her roundly once upon a time, because a spider had invaded his napkin. What would he have said had he found that insolent reminder of the American victory over the English, underneath his plate?

Colonel Jordan was the last to make his appearance. He was in a ferocious mood, but he softened a little as he took his accustomed seat opposite Ruth.

"A beautiful day Miss Cornwallis--that is right here, but I perceive they are having a right smart thunder shower on the American side. A volcanic or patriotic eruption so to speak. The killed and wounded will not all be brought in before tomorrow, possibly."

Ruth made no response. Mr. and Mrs. Cornwallis looked anxious. The Colonel felt that something was amiss.

"Beg pardon, this ridiculous Independence Day racket has cost me my morning's nap; but I ought not to be in a rage I suppose. I fancy you have not enjoyed it either, Miss Cornwallis, although it is one of your country's choicest exports."

Ruth began to show signs of nervous distress and Mr. Cornwallis hastened to explain as well as place and time permitted, their att.i.tude on the subject and the sad experience that made them fugitives from home. He closed with a significant look at Ruth, which would have been sufficient for a more impressionable man--a civilian rather than a soldier. Not so, however, with Colonel Jordan. He thought it was the mother's health that had been effected by the loss of her son, as very naturally it would be. There was nothing in that which appealed especially to his sympathies. Besides, his sympathies were tough. He turned to Ruth as though he had discovered a good joke.

"Beg pardon, Miss Cornwallis; but it would appear from latest advices that the American victory over England is being turned into a most ridiculous defeat. If the Mother Country had only known her wayward children's fondness for the firecracker and toy pistol all that she would have needed to have done when they turned against her, would have been to have furnished them with a generous supply of those dastardly things and they would have destroyed themselves."

"The London Pyrotechnist is shrewd enough to take advantage of the situation," laughed Admiral Larkins. "He has surrounded the country with his manufacturing tents and is said to have sold $10,000,000 worth of Independence Day fireworks to Americans to celebrate their victory over the English, last year--American casualties for that day footed up to about 3,500 in killed and wounded. It's a good scheme from a financial point of view."

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE FUNNY FOURTH RACKET ON ENGLISH SOIL.]

Another Englishman who had still less understanding of the Cornwallis matter, but was aware of the annual higeria of Americans to foreign lands to escape the noise and danger of their national day, remarked: "It's a providential thing though for the Americans of today that their forebears did not push their victorious hordes up to the north pole, else they would have no near-by place to fly to, while their own country is being made too hot for them."

How long this conversation would have continued it is difficult to say had it not been for the distressful barking of Colonel Jordon's English terrier, who rushed in with a long string of firecrackers tied to his tail.

His first dash was toward Ruth, probably for the reason that she had taken his part one day when the boys were tormenting him. He would have leaped into her lap had she not warded him off with the vacant chair by her side. He leaped into the chair, however, then across the table toward Colonel Jordon and down on the floor and off to the lower end of the dining room where the landlady was cowering in mortal terror, as well she might; for she had on a thin muslin dress and was completely cornered. By that time the firecrackers were in flame and the result was inevitable. They set fire to the poor woman's dress and pandemonium reigned. The boarders rushed to the rescue with cups of tea and coffee, pitchers of water and milk, rugs and top-coats. She was finally saved with only one leg burned; Colonel Jordon's dog was so badly hurt that he had to be shot to end his misery. Little Teddy Bearington who came in un.o.bserved while the confusion was at its height and was trampled down by hurrying feet, barely escaped death by suffocation.

But the Bearington boys had enjoyed their celebration. Mr. Bearington paid the bill the next day and the whole posse beat a retreat across the Canadian border. They showed signs of disorganization during the remainder of the heated season; but when the fall political campaign came on, they were in high feather again--at least Mr. Bearington and the three older boys. Hardly a day pa.s.sed that they did not tell how they had celebrated the Nation's Glorious Day on English soil.

CHAPTER VII.

THE DOUBLE ENGAGEMENT.

Ruth and Ralph were alone on the cosy little veranda of the Cornwallis cottage. It was a beautiful evening in June--full of moonlight, star-light and rose-fragrance and so heavenly still that they could have heard the beatings of each other's hearts; and very likely they did, for they were sitting side by side in lover-like proximity. There was an indefinable but easily understood something about their movements and att.i.tude that said as plainly as words could have told it: "We are engaged and are going to be married before many a day goes by."

"O, these perfect June evenings!" exclaimed Ruth in a voice of soft rapture. "But how swiftly they are flying! Only think of it, Ralph! a week from next Tuesday will be the Fourth of July! The dreadful, horrible Fourth! I heard the first shot today. It went straight through my heart. O, the fright and agony! How I wish it were all over with and yet I dread its coming as I would that of a monstrous bloodthirsty army."

"Where shall we go to be rid of it, Ruth, and celebrate our own independence? To Star Lake, Moon Island or Canada?"

"Never again to Canada, Ralph! I haven't told you our experience there last year--that is, not all of it."

"You told me about the Bearington boys and the fireworks that were not funny."

"Yes, but I did not tell you the talk at the breakfast table before the fracas began. Papa begged me not to talk about it, but I feel as though I can tell you now, and will."