CHAPTER XIX.
THE INTERCEPTED LETTER.
"No! The mail isn't come yet! leastways it isn't opened yet! Fan that fire, you little black imp, you! and make that kittle bile; if you don't, I shall never git this wafer soft! and then I'll turn you up, and give you sich a switching as ye never had in your born days! for I won't be trampled on by you any longer! you little black willyan, you! 'Scat! you hussy! get out o' my way, before I twist your neck for you!"
The first part of this oration was delivered by Miss Nancy Skamp, to some half-dozen negro grooms who were cooling their shins while waiting for the mail, before she closed the doors and windows of the post-office; the second part was addressed to Chizzle, her little negro waiter—and the third concluding sentence, emphasized by a smart kick, was bestowed upon poor Molly, the mottled cat. The village post-office was kept in the lower front room of the little lonely house on the hill, occupied by the solitary spinster.
The mail-bags were stuffed remarkably full, and there were several wonderful letters, that she felt it her duty to open and read before sending to their owners.
"Let's see," said the worthy postmistress, as she sorted the letters in her hand. "What's this? oh! a double letter for Colonel Thornton—pshaw! that's all about political stuff! Who cares about reading that? I don't! He may have it to-night if he wants it! Stop! what's this? Lors! it's a thribble letter for—for Marian Mayfield! And from furrin parts, too! Now I wonder—(Can't you stop that caterwauling out there?" she said, raising her voice. "Sposen you niggers were to wait till I open the office. I reckon you'd get your letters just as soon.) Who can be writing from furrin parts to Marian Mayfield? Ah! I'll keep this and read it before Miss Marian gets it."
When Miss Nancy had closed up for the night she took out the letter directed to Marian, opened, and began to read it. And as she read her eyes and mouth grew wider and wider with astonishment, and her wonder broke forth in frequent exclamations of: "M—y conscience! Well now! Who'd a dreamt of it! Pity but I'd a let Solomon court her when he wanted to—but Lors! how did I ever know that she'd—M—y conscience!" etc., etc.
Her fit of abstraction was at last broken by a smart rap at the door.
She started and turned pale, like the guilty creature that she was.
The rap was repeated sharply.
She jumped up, hustled the purloined letters and papers out of sight, and stood waiting.
The rap was reiterated loudly and authoritatively.
"Who's that?" she asked, trembling violently.
"It's me, Aunt Nancy! Do for goodness' sake don't keep a fellow out here in the storm till he's nearly perished. It's coming on to hail and snow like the last judgment!"
"Oh! it's you, is it, Sol? I didn't know but what it was—Do, for mercy's sake don't be talking about the last judgment, and such awful things—I declare to man, you put me all of a trimble," said Miss Nancy, by way of accounting for her palpitations, as she unbarred the door, and admitted her learned nephew. Dr. Solomon Weismann seemed dreadfully downhearted as he entered. He slowly stamped the snow from his boots, shook it off his clothes, took off his hat and his overcoat, and hung them up, and spoke—never a word! Then he drew his chair right up in front of the fire, placed a foot on each andiron, stooped over, spread his palms over the kindly blaze, and still spoke—never a word!
"Well! I'd like to know what's the matter with you to-night," said Miss
Nancy, as she went about the room looking for her knitting.
But the doctor stared silently at the fire.
"It's the latest improvement in politeness—I shouldn't wonder—not to answer your elders when they speak to you."
"Were you saying anything to me, Aunt Nancy?"
"'Was I saying anything to you, Aunt Nancy?' Yes I was! I was asking you what's the matter?"
"Oh! I never was so dreadfully low-spirited in my life, Aunt Nancy."
"And what should a young man like you have to make him feel low-spirited, I should like to know? Moping about Marian, I shouldn't wonder. The girl is a good girl enough, if she'd only mind her own business, and not let people spoil her. And if you do like her, and must have her, why I shan't make no further objections."
Here the young doctor turned shortly around and stared at his aunt in astonishment!
"Hem!" said Miss Nancy, looking confused, "well, yes, I did oppose it once, certainly, but that was because you were both poor."
"And we are both poor still, for aught that I can see, and likely to continue so."
"Hish-ish! no you're not! leastways, she's not. I've got something very strange to tell you," said Miss Nancy, mysteriously drawing her chair up close to her nephew, and putting her lips to his ear, and whispering—"Hish-ish!"
"'Hish-ish!' What are you 'hish-ish'ing for, Aunt Nancy, I'm not saying anything, and your breath spins into a fellow's ear enough to give him an ear-ache!" said Dr. Solomon, jerking his head away.
"Now then listen—Marian Mayfield has got a fortune left to her."
Miss Nancy paused to see the effect of this startling piece of news upon her companion.
But the doctor was not sulky, and upon his guard; so after an involuntary slight start, he remained perfectly still. Miss Nancy was disappointed by the calm way in which he took this marvelous revelation. However, she went on to say:
"Yes! a fortune left her, by a grand-uncle, a bachelor, who died intestate in Wiltshire, England. Now, what do you think of that!"
"Why, I think if she wouldn't have me when she was poor, she won't be apt to do it now she's rich."
"Ah! but you see, she don't know a word of it!"
"How do you know it, then?"
"Hish-ish! I'll tell you if you will never tell. Oh, Lord, no, you mustn't indeed! You wouldn't, I know, 'cause it would ruin us! Listen—"
"Now, Aunt Nancy, don't be letting me into any of your capital crimes and hanging secrets—don't, because I don't want to hear them, and I won't neither! I ain't used to such! and I'm afraid of them, too!"
"'Fraid o' what? Nobody can prove it," answered Miss Nancy, a little incoherently.
"You know what better than I do, Aunt Nancy; and let me tell you, you'd better be careful. The eyes of the community are upon you."
"Let 'em prove it! Let 'em prove it! They ain't got no witnesses! Chizzle and the cat ain't no witnesses," said Miss Nancy, obscurely; "let 'em do their worse! I reckon I know something about law as well as they do! if I am a lone 'oman!"
"They can procure your removal from office without proving anything against you except unpopularity."
"That's Commodore Waugh's plan! the ugly, wicked, old buggaboo! 'Tain't such great shakes of an office neither, the dear knows!"
"Never mind, Aunt Nancy, mend your ways, and maybe they'll not disturb you. And don't tell me any of your capital secrets, because I might be summoned as a witness against you, which would not be so agreeable to my feelings—yon understand! And now tell me, if you are absolutely certain that Miss Mayfield has had that fortune left her. But stop! don't tell me how you found it out!"
"Well, yes, I am certain—sure, she has a great fortune left her. I have the positive proofs of it. And, moreover, nobody in this country don't know it but myself—and you. And now I tell you, don't hint the matter to a soul. Be spry! dress yourself up jam! and go a courting before anybody else finds it out!"
"But that would scarcely be honorable either," demurred the doctor.
"You're mighty particular! Yes, it would, too! Jest you listen to me! Now if so be we were to go and publish about Marian's fortune, we'd have a whole herd of fortune hunters, who don't care a cent for anything but fortune, running after and worrying the life out of her, and maybe one of them marrying of her, and spending of her money, and bringing of her to poverty, and breaking of her heart. Whereas, if we keep the secret of the estate to ourselves, you, who desarve her, because you 'counted her all the same when she was poor, and who'd take good care of her property, and her, too—would have her all to yourself, and nobody to interfere. Don't you see?"
"Well, to be sure—when one looks at the thing in this light," deliberated the sorely-tempted lover.
"Of course! And that's the only light to look at it in! Don't you see? Why, by gracious! it seems to me as if we were doing Marian the greatest favor."