The Siege of the Seven Suitors Part 34

I bowed gravely. They had been turned away for the very simple reason that, after unearthing Adoniram Caldwell's effects in the secret rooms of her house, Miss Octavia had not cared to be troubled with suitors.

The haughty Nebraskan had drawn upon his imagination for the rest.

"And I understood you to say a moment ago that Miss Hollister's malady is not diphtheria, but chicken-pox?" Shallenberger persisted with almost laughable trepidation. "These gentlemen, I regret to say, go so far as to doubt your word."

"That, Mr. Shallenberger, is their privilege. But it seems to me that when I merely tried to mitigate the terrible news imparted by d.i.c.k, you are rank ingrates for questioning my far less doubtful story. Anything between you gentlemen and Mr. d.i.c.k is, of course, none of my affair, for whether considered as a set, group or bunch I am done with the whole lot of you. Farewell!"

I decided as I rode away that nothing was to be gained by going in search of Wiggins. Orton had purposely made his house difficult of access, and the roads in that neighborhood are many and devious. Orton had banished his guests that he might tinker his play in peace, and knowing his temper, I was sure that Wiggins and the rest of them would keep out of his way till the pangs of hunger drove them back.

I had ridden half a mile toward Hopefield, when I espied a woman riding rapidly toward me, and as she drew nearer I identified her as Hezekiah, mounted on a horse I recognized as one of the best in Miss Octavia's stables. Hezekiah rode astride, as a woman should, her bicycle skirt serving well as a habit. She rode as a boy rides who loves freedom and quickened pulses and the rush of wind across his face. She was hatless, for which the sun and I were both grateful. The big bow at the back of her head turned the dial back to sixteen.

[Ill.u.s.tration: I espied a woman riding rapidly toward me.]

She drew rein and fished what seemed to be salted almonds from her sweater pocket. She filliped one of these into the air, and caught it in her mouth with a lazy toss of the head that showed the firm contour of her lovely throat. I had never seen her more self-possessed.

"Do you care much for this horse?" she asked, carelessly.

"It's a good horse; I fancy Miss Octavia thinks so herself. There are places, Hezekiah, where they hang people for horse-stealing."

"Thought I might need one to-day, so I borrowed him,--through the back way to the old red barn. The coachman is an ancient chum, and Aunt Octavia would never mind even if she knew. And she will know all right! Anyhow, my rear tire had been patched once too often, and there is a satisfaction in a horse! Where's our sensitive and impressionable Wiggy? Saw him riding over toward Kisco yesterday P.M. with chin on his chest,--dreadful riding form."

"Wiggins is at Orton's,--the playwright's, you know. I've telephoned him to hustle back, but he's out of our reach somewhere. I could n't speak to him direct; had to leave a message for him."

"Just like Wiggy to die on the last lap. What did you make out of brother Pepperton?"

"Your note scared me,--thanks so much for your note,--but he's all right. Engaged to another girl."

"Ah," she sighed, "it's comforting that Cecilia could n't keep them all going all the time."

We rode along together, our horses in a walk, and I told her everything I knew of the condition of affairs, including a true account of my experiences at the inn the day before and of the finding of the old chest belonging to Wiggins's great-grandfather,--her brown eyes opened wide at this,--concluding with the diphtheria stratagem and d.i.c.k's menace to Cecilia's happiness.

"He's really a bright little boy. Coming home on the steamer he gave me a post-graduate course in pragmatism that I've found helpful in keeping house for papa. It's too bad we have to lay a trap for Mr.

d.i.c.k."

"Is it? Just how are we to manage that, Hezekiah?"

"Oh, that will be easy enough. He's pretty desperate, and since the compact between the suitors has gone to pieces he knows he will have to show his hand pretty soon. He thinks you are wild about Cecilia. He lays great stress on his thinking powers, and he probably argues that you are bound to pop pretty soon. It's just as well he thinks so, but we must finish this up to-day; I'll be a nervous wreck if we don't close the books to-night. There's your friend d.i.c.k now."

She indicated a high point in the main road, where it crossed the ridge from which she had shown me--it seemed, oh, very long ago!--the procession of suitors crossing the stile. d.i.c.k, mounted, was gazing off across the fields toward Hopefield. Man and horse were so distant as to create the illusion of an equestrian statue on a high pedestal.

"Napoleon before Waterloo," I suggested.

"He does look like Napoleon, doesn't he?" she laughed. "He's a bit fussed to-day. He knows that Wiggy 's not at the inn, and that you are up to something, and to little Mr. d.i.c.k the architect probably looks like one of those mysterious knights you read about, who suddenly appears at the tournament all canned in an ice-cream freezer, with a tin pail over his head. Mr. Pepperton's presence no doubt worries him, as I don't think they ever met. Cecilia and Mr. Pepperton are riding--I dodged them just before I struck you, walking their horses in the most loverlike fashion in a lane over yonder; but if Mr. Pepperton is really engaged it's all right, though if I were the other girl I think I'd be anxious."

"Pep's playing the game, that's all. What are you going to do now?"

She glanced at the sun; I fancy that it was with such a scanning of the heavens that her sisters a thousand years before had noted the time.

"This is my pie-day. There's undoubtedly a gooseberry-pie waiting for me at the bungalow, and papa will expect me for luncheon. I 'd ask you to come too, only you 'll have all you can do to keep Mr. d.i.c.k from persuading somebody to be the sixth man, so he can slip in as number seven. If we get through to-day all right, you may come for luncheon to-morrow, maybe. Papa told me he liked you; he said you were very decent that night you met him on the roof of Aunt Octavia's house."

"My compliments to your father. I hope to be able to persuade him to extend his paternal arm to include me. Aunt Octavia must be my aunt, too!"

"Really!" cried Hezekiah, with indescribable mockery; and she wheeled her horse and was gone like the wind.

Luncheon at Hopefield pa.s.sed without incident; and afterward Cecilia retired to help her aunt with her correspondence, while Pepperton and I lounged about the house and smoked. I told him of my ineffectual efforts to reach Wiggins, and he volunteered to find a motor and search for him; but I pointed out the futility of this, and renewed my appeal that he stay on guard at Hopefield.

At about three o'clock Cecilia reappeared. Her color was high and her eyes were unusually brilliant. I knew that she fully realized that the crisis was near, but she asked no questions and her manner rea.s.sured me of her confidence. We idled on the stone terrace above the frost-smitten garden, which in its ruin still satisfied the eye with color. I had purposely drawn some chairs to a corner well screened by vines, so that I could note the approach of any visitors who came cross country by way of the stile.

We were hardly seated before d.i.c.k entered the garden, followed immediately by the six other suitors I had last seen at the inn. They ranged themselves on a stone bench facing the house at the end of one of the paths. They wore sack coats and hats in a variety of styles, so that they did not present quite the bizarre effect produced by their frock coats and silk tiles. They surveyed the house sadly, bowed their heads upon their sticks, and seemed to have come to stay. The siege, then, had become a practical matter!

"Why don't the gentlemen come in?" asked Cecilia, peering through the vines.

"Hush! There's a rumor that you are terribly ill; they've come merely to pay their tribute of respect by waiting in the garden. You had better go quietly into the house. The shock of seeing you in your usual health might be too much for them."

"But I can't! I must be accessible at all times," she cried, looking helplessly from me to Pepperton, who was all at sea for an explanation.

"If that impression is abroad, I shall appear at once."

"Then you and Pepperton must patrol the terrace here; you are lovers for all I know. Ignore them utterly in your absorption with one another. If any one approaches you, Pepperton, ask Miss Hollister to marry you."

"Me!" gasped Pepperton.

"No; it can't be done that way," Cecilia interposed. "Mr. Pepperton has told me of his engagement. I can't be party to a fraud, a trick.

I can't countenance it at all. It would ruin everything!"

"Then stay right here; pace back and forth, and I'll manage the rest.

I don't for the life of me know how, but I'll do it."

As Cecilia and Pepperton stepped from behind the screen of vines, the men on the benches lifted their heads; then I heard murmurs of amazement and chagrin, and caught a fleeting glimpse of d.i.c.k tearing through the hedge with his late companions tumbling after in fierce pursuit.

I ran to the stable and found a horse, feeling that I must be in a position to move rapidly if I saw Wiggins approaching. If d.i.c.k eluded his wrathful pursuers he would be on the lookout somewhere, awaiting his own time, and if he saw Wiggins rushing madly for the house, he might yet circ.u.mvent us.

I satisfied myself that Cecilia and Pepperton were still plainly visible from the garden, and I knew that for the time she was safe. I gained the high point in the road from which Hezekiah and I had observed d.i.c.k on guard at noon, and waited. Remembering the fine figure the philosopher had made against the sky, I dismounted and rested by a stone wall where I could watch with less risk of being seen from a distance.

I at once saw matters that interested me immensely. d.i.c.k had thrown off the other suitors, and was rapidly crossing the fields toward Hopefield. When I caught sight of him, he was just leaving the orchard where Hezekiah and I had held our memorable interview. A long stretch of rough pasture lay before him, and he settled down to a quick trot.

He took several fences without lessening his gait, crossed the stile like a flash a little later, and was out of sight.

As I turned to my horse I heard the swift patter of hoofs, and saw a man and woman galloping furiously toward me. They were rapidly nearing the ridge, and their horses were springing over the firm white road in prodigious leaps. Wiggins had got my message; Hezekiah had met him in the road and was urging him on! Here indeed was a situation to stir the heart, and the blood sang in my ears as I watched them. I waved my arm as they checked their horses for the long climb. The riders had lost their hats in their mad race, and Wiggins's horse was nearly done for. As they came still nearer, I saw that Wiggins had taken fire at last.

"Orton said some one was killed,--who--what--who"--

"I just picked him up five minutes ago; he doesn't know anything," said Hezekiah; "and you dare n't tell him--remember the rules! What's doing?" she inquired coolly.

She bade Wiggins exchange horses with her, and while he was readjusting the saddle-girths I explained to Hezekiah the situation at Hopefield and told her of d.i.c.k's scamper across the fields.

"There's no use fooling with this thing any more. I'll take Wiggy to the house and lock him up until I 've been numbered six,--it's safest."

"Not much it isn't. I don't intend that Cecilia shall have the pleasure of refusing you."

"I'd like to know why not. It's only to fill the gap."