The Love Story of Abner Stone Part 6

Thus did I, poor worm, commune in my fool's heaven, recking not, nor knowing, that I was setting at naught the plans of my Creator.

At breakfast I was myself, although my hand trembled when I conveyed food to my mouth, and I felt my cheeks coloring when she came in a little late, arrayed in a pink-flowered, flowing gown, and looking as fresh as though she had just risen, bathed in dew, from the blue-and-crimson cup of a morning-glory.

"How did you rest after your night ride?" she smiled, sitting by me and resting her elbows on the edge of the table, then pillowing her round chin in her pink palms.

"I slept better for my outing," I answered promptly, lying with the ease of a schoolboy. The truth was, my sleep had been broken and poor.

"It's a good thing for Stone that you're back," thundered Mr. Grundy.

"You're so everlastingly fond of running over all creation, and he has the rovingest disposition I ever saw. Goin' down to salt those sheep this mornin', S'lome?"

"Yes, sir. I made a compact with Mr. Stone last night to act as my esquire on all my expeditions. You've often said I should have some one to go along with me."

"Don't let her impose on you, Stone," responded the old gentleman, throwing a quick wink in my direction. "She's young, you know, and don't know as much as mother. She'll have you climbing an oak tree to get a young hawk out of its nest likely as not."

Salome laughed, while I boldly a.s.sured them that I would make the effort should she desire such a thing. Mrs. Grundy was quiet, as usual. She contented herself listening to the conversation of the others, and seldom took her eyes off the girl it was plain to see she worshipped.

"Get ready for a walk this morning, Mr. Stone!" called Salome, a short time after breakfast, peeping over the bal.u.s.trades at the top of the stair. "The lower farm is about two miles, and the walk will be good for us."

"I'll get my hat and stick; are you coming now?"

"As soon as I can get in another dress. I'll meet you in the locust grove. Tell Tom to get you the salt, and I'll be there before you have missed me."

She was gone with a pattering of little feet.

I went into my room for my stick and hat with a grim smile upon my face.

The steady ground which I had thought beneath me was becoming shifting sand. I went slowly around the house to the negro quarters with bowed head, briefly gave Tom his mistress' orders, and stood apathetically while the darky hastened away to obey.

A quick scurrying in the gra.s.s, and the pressure of two small paws upon my trousers' leg brought me to myself, and I bent down to pat the yellow head of Fido, who had espied me, and instantly besought recognition.

"You poor, dumb, faithful thing," I apostrophized, looking at the bright eyes which shone love into mine. "You are spared this agony of soul, and the futile efforts to solve problems which cannot be known. You love me, and I love you; why could we both not be content?"

"Is Fido going, too?"

I composed my face with an effort, and straightened up as the cheery voice hailed me. She was coming towards me like a woodland sprite, floating, it seemed to me, for her gliding step was so free from any p.r.o.nounced undulation. Her dress of blue checked gingham just escaped the ground, and she wore a gingham sunbonnet with two long strings, which she held in either hand. The sunbonnet was tilted back, and her laughing face, with its rich, delicate under-color of old wine, was fit for a G.o.d to kiss.

"Yes, we will take him along if you do not object. He was the companion of my rambles before you came. We will make a congenial three."

Tom approached with a bucket of salt, which, after an exaggerated sc.r.a.pe of the foot and a pull at his forelock, he handed to me, and we set out.

Our way led through the orchard at the back of the house, where grew, I think, all sorts of apples known to man. Each bough was freighted with its burden of round, green fruit, and here and there an Early Harvest tree was spattered with golden patches, where the ripened apples hung in their green bower. Beyond the orchard lay a woods pasture, formed of a succession of gentle swells, the heavy bluegra.s.s turf soft as an Oriental carpet to the feet, while scattered about were hundreds of magnificent trees, mostly oak and poplar. Dotting the sward were numerous little white b.a.l.l.s on long stems,--dandelions gone to seed.

These Salome plucked constantly, and, filling her cheeks with wind, would blow like Boreas, until her face was purple. When I inquired the purpose of this queer performance, I was shyly informed that it was to tell if her sweetheart loved her. If she blew every one of the pappus off at one breath, he loved her; if she didn't, he didn't love her. She was certainly very much concerned about the matter, for every ball she came to she plucked and blew. Sometimes all the pappus disappeared, and sometimes they didn't, and so she never reached a decided conclusion.

The pasture crossed, a rail fence rose up before us. I at once stepped forward to let down a gap, but Salome halted me.

"The idea!" she declared. "I don't mind that at all. You stand just where you are, and turn your back; I'll call you when I'm over."

I blushed, and obeyed.

A wheat-field of billowy gold stretched before us when I joined her. A narrow path ran through it, curving sinuously, as a path made by chance will. This we followed, Salome going in front. The wheat was ready for the reaper, and the full heads were swelled to bursting. Salome gathered some, threshed them between her hands, blew out the chaff, and offered me part of the grain, eating the other herself. It was pasty, but not unpleasant, and I ate it because it was her gift. We were walking peacefully along, through the waist-high grain, when Salome gave a little scream and jumped back, plump into my arms. Even in my excitement I saw the tail of a black snake vanishing across the path. I released her quickly, of course, but the touch of her figure was like wine in my veins.

"I beg your pardon!" she said humbly; "but the ugly thing frightened me. It darted out so quickly, and I almost stepped upon it. You couldn't get one of the negroes to follow this path any farther. They are very superst.i.tious, you know, and are firm believers in signs."

"I'm sorry you were startled so; perhaps I had better go in front," I ventured.

"No; you sha'n't. I'm not really afraid of snakes, except when I run upon one unexpectedly. I kill them when I get a chance."

And so she started out again in advance of me, and began telling the various beliefs of the negroes. I learned from her that their lives were almost governed by "signs," and that some very trivial thing would deter them from a certain course of action. There were ways to escape the spell of witches, to avoid snakes, and to keep from being led into a mora.s.s by jack-o'-lanterns. This folk-lore of the darkies was exceedingly interesting to me, told in the charming manner which characterized the speech of my companion.

The wheat-field ended at the pike, and here another fence was pa.s.sed in the same manner as the first one. Then we swung down the dusty road together, side by side. To the right and left of us dog-fennel was blooming, and the "Jimpson" weed flared its white trumpets in a brave show. Occasionally a daisy lifted its yellow, modest head, and Salome took great delight in getting me to tell her which was daisy and which was fennel. My ignorance caused many a blunder, to her high amus.e.m.e.nt; but at last I discovered that the daisy's head was larger than that of its humble brother. A half-mile's walk along the pike brought us to an old sagging gate, which I pushed open, and we went through. A gra.s.sy hill was before us, sloping down to a cool hollow where a spring bubbled out from beneath a moss-grown old rock.

There were trees and bushes, and a soft green bank, and we joined hands and ran like two school-children till we reached the spring. Of course she must have a drink, so down she knelt, and plunged her pouting lips into the cool water. Her hair, tangled and loosened by our run, fell in wavy strands about her face. When she had drunk her fill, it was my turn, and so I stretched out full length, and carefully put my lips just where hers had been. Never had water tasted so sweet! I was taking it in, in long, cool swallows, when a sudden pressure on the back of my head bobbed my face deep into the spring. I turned my head with a smile, to find her standing back and laughing like a child at the trick she had played.

"You rascal!" I fumed good-naturedly, "I'll pay you back!"

Another peal of laughter was her only answer, caused, no doubt, by my wet face and the water dripping from my chin.

"Yonder come the sheep," she said. "Get up, and let's salt them."

I arose and picked up the bucket. Coming slowly up the hollow were five or six shabby-looking sheep. Their wool stood on them in patches, and they seemed scarcely able to walk.

"What's the matter with them?" I queried.

"See how rusty the poor things look!" Her voice told of deep concern.

"Father says they have the scab, and it must be a dreadful disease, like leprosy. Let's go meet them, and save them the trouble of walking so far."

I could not help smiling at the tender heart this speech betrayed, but I went with her. As we neared the sorry-looking group, Salome took a handful of salt and placed it upon a large flat stone. They rushed at it eagerly, despite their weakened state, and lapped it with their tongues.

We put out more salt, at a dozen different places, so that all might have enough, then went back to the bank by the spring, and while she sat down in the shade and held her bonnet in her lap, I reclined by her side, and looked up at her, content.

XIII

"Do you love the country as much as you seem to?" she asked, gazing blissfully up at the dense foliage of the elm tree under which we were resting.

"I could not love it more; it is a wonder which never ends, and an enduring delight. If I could think that Paradise was like this day, and this place, I would not care when death came."

"I'm so glad," she answered, with the simplicity and directness of a child. "I have been in cities, and I don't see how a soul can live there. It seems to me that mine would cramp and dwindle until it died if I had to live in a big town. Even the large and beautiful places of worship speak more of the human than of the divine. It seems that men go because they must, and that women go to show their clothes. This is my religion and my temple." She smiled in real joy as she waved her hand about her in a gesture comprehending everything bounded by the horizon.

"Look at the roof of my temple. Was there ever one so high built by mortals, and was there ever a pigment mixed that could give it the tint which mine holds? And it is not always the same. To-day it is a pale blue, marked with delicate lines of cloud. At twilight it will darken to azure; to-night it will be studded with a million gems. And no prayer falls back from that roof upon the head of the sender, for the stars are the portholes through which they go to heaven. Do you never think that way?"

I shook my head slowly.

"It is very beautiful," I said, "and equally true, no doubt, but I had never thought of it in just that way. I love this life because I can't help but love it. The forests, the meadows, the fields, and the brooks are what my soul craves; yet if you ask me why, I cannot tell you. I have been happier the few short weeks I have spent in your home than I was all the rest of my life. Since you have come, my happiness has deepened."

I dared not look up, but kept my eyes on the four-leaf clover I was plucking to pieces.

"I'm glad I've helped make your visit pleasant."