CHAPTER XIV.
Rough Roads—the Happy Bridegroom—Jacob Mentor's Experience—Fairy Knoll—A Joyful Meeting.
he prospect of a change from steamboat navigation, always so delightful on the upper Mississippi, to jolting and jarring over a rough extent of country in a heavy, lumbering wagon, suited to the unimproved state of the roads, was anything but agreeable to Mr. and Mrs. Hanford, as they surveyed the uncomely vehicle drawn up before their hotel.
Edward had overtaken them, and with Mr. and Mrs. Hanford, stood waiting on the porch, while Mr. Hanford made every arrangement for their comfort, of which the state of the case would admit. The cushions and buffalos at length fixed to his satisfaction he assisted in his wife, and after a small strife, in which each contended for the seat which neither wanted, Edward prevailed, and planted himself beside the driver, while Mr. Hanford, looking remarkably happy for a vanquished man, took his place beside his wife.
The sober driver, Jacob Mentor by name, looked over his shoulder and carefully surveyed his load before starting. The trunks were firmly strapped on behind, and a half a dozen chairs were also disposed of in the same way. A small sized dining table, bed downward, rested behind the seats, so hugged up by boxes and bundles, that it appeared impossible for any number of bumps or thumps to disturb its quiet. The two beaming faces, just in the van of all this array, did not escape the eyes of honest Jacob.
"I guess yer pretty comfortable to start on," said he.
"All right," said Mr. Hanford, "drive on."
It would be a matter of surprise how it had entered into the head of a plain, common-sense, matter-of-fact young man like John Hanford, to bestow the name of "Fairy Knoll" on the little hillock in the wilderness, where stood his solitary cabin, did we not remember that at the time he was completely under love's influence. The name given under such circumstances was music to him as it fell frequently from the lips of his young bride on their toilsome journey thither.
"I hope the fairies at Fairy Knoll will have a nice fire to welcome us, she said, as the day was drawing to a close, and they were nearing her future home.
"Are you very cold?" said her husband, drawing her more closely to his side.
The day had been unusually chilly, and towards night the autumn winds got up a boisterous frolic, and swept past, dashing from their wings light flurries of snow directly in the faces of our travelers, and the delicate bride, unused to such rough play, had at last hid her face behind her veil and wished for the warm fireside. Before she had had time to reply to Mr. Hanford's question, Edward produced a neat little flask encased in silver, and unfastening from the stopper a tiny cup of the same make, he filled it with the sparkling fluid, at the same time giving orders for the wagon to stop.
"Now here is something almost equal to a warm fire," he said offering Mrs. Hanford the cup.
"What is it?" said she, hesitatingly.
"Pure domestic wine, some of Col. Wilson's best, ho presented it to me just before I left home, and gave me his word it was unadulterated," said Edward, with great assurance.
"Col. Wilson's wines are justly popular," said Mrs. Hanford, sipping the beverage; but it is whispered that the Colonel uses alcohol in their preparation."
"O, very likely," said Edward carelessly. "I have no doubt of it, but this he assured me was unadulterated. Have some, Mr. Hanford?"
"I don't care if I do. It is really very fine," he said, returning the cup, "quite stimulating, but I prefer a little brandy to any other stimulant; it takes right hold."
"You surely don't drink brandy!" exclamed the young wife, anxiously.
"Only a little, occasionally, when I need it to keep the cold out. O never fear, my dear," he continued observing the look of concern upon his wife's countenance. "I'm a good temperance man, but not a teetotaler; that is drawing the reins rather too tight."
Meantime, Edward had offered the driver a drink, but the man shook his head; "No, thank you," said he, "I'd rather not take any."
"Not take any!" said Edward, "why, sir, it will do you good."
"I'm not sick," said the other.
"But you are cold," said Edward, mistaking his modest demeanor for bashfulness.
But the earnest and decided shake of the head by which he refused the second invitation, signified more than words that he was an adherent of the total abstinence principles.
"What a simpleton," said Edward to himself, as the individual by his side shiveringly gathered up the reins and drove on.
But the individual's ruminations were of quite a different character, and something after this wise: "Shiver away, old man, it is better to shiver than to drink." Be it known that for many years this grey headed man had without measure, poured down the alcoholic fire. When at length overcome by it, a good Samaritan had discovered him lying sick by the wayside, and had humanely assisted him to rise, and had set him upon the beast commonly known as "Total Abstinence," upon which he had ridden with great comfort and safety up to the time of our story. Moreover being satisfied that the animal was of good parts and sure-footed, he was not at all inclined to exchange the faithful old creature for any of the best bloods belonging to the domestic wine family. He had not forgotten that apparently harmless little hobby-horse whose cognomen was Lager Beer, which he had sported in his youth, but which at last got unruly; whether from having been stabled with vicious beasts, or from a bad quality which it inherently possessed, he was not in a condition to inquire the first time it played off its pranks upon him. But one thing was certain, after several months of docile behavior, one fine morning his pet landed him very unceremoniously in the gutter, after which, on various occasions, he mounted nearly all the beasts in the stable, whiskey, rum, brandy, etc., but they, one and all, proved vastly more refractory than the first named, and, as we have seen, he was at length left battered and bruised by the way side.
It is needless to state that Jacob Mentor's experience had not, nor was it likely to benefit any so much as himself; for who, among the thousands tampering with stimulating drinks, could be made to believe that a glass of beer, or an occasional sip of wine would result in their final overthow?
Such, at all events, was not the opinion of our young friends journeying in the direction of "Fairy Knoll; for more than once the wine went round as the night winds whistled colder. But the tedious road had at length an end, and about dark, the heavy wagon lumbered up under the shadows of Fairy Knoll.
"It won't do to drive up that hill with this heavy load, the horses are too much jaded," said Jacob.
"Then we'll walk up," said Mr. Hanford, jumping out. "Come now, Mrs. Hanford," proudly stretching out his arms, "I will carry you up. Mr. Sherman follow me; the path is a little slippery, and we shall have to step carefully."
By reason of his burden and the icy path, Mr. Hanford was sometime in reaching his cabin, but he made short work of getting inside; for, having bestowed several impatient thumps upon the window which he declared frozen down, he suddenly threw himself against the door, and crack went the wooden fastening, and open flew the door, and a most unexpected scene burst upon his astonished vision.
Surely here were the fairies, and here the warm fire for which his shivering little wife had been wishing. Surprise held him upon the threshold; but Edward, who instantly recognized in one of the so-called fairies, the person of Little Wolf, sprang forward with a shout of joy.
"The honey, sure as I'm alive," cried Jacob Mentor, pressing eagerly after him. "Laws," said he, precipitately dropping his bundles in the middle of the floor, and rushing up to Edward, "how came the little creature here?"
Edward silently held the little creature in his arms as if he would keep back the dear life that appeared leaving her, and when Jacob's eye fell upon the white, upturned face, he drew back with a look of alarm.
When this and that restorative had been resorted to with happy effect, and Little Wolf no longer required undivided attention, at her suggestion Antoinette La Clare briefly related the story of their escape from Bloody Jim. Mutual explanations followed, discovering to Antoinette the fact, that she had taken refuge in the house of her cousin, for such John Hanford proved to be, his mother's sister having married Antoinette's father.
Amid the general rejoicings and congratulations, Edward naturally alluded to the death of Bloody Jim, and the means by which it was accomplished. "We are fairly rid of him now," he said, turning to Little Wolf, who had quietly slipped from his embrace and perched herself upon the big chest, "the ball made sure work."
The color had come to her cheek, and there was great joy in her eye, but Edward's unlucky words made her pale again, and she looked quickly and apprehensively towards Antoinette.
The poor girl shiveringly hid her face in her hands and sobbed audibly.
