The Gold of Chickaree

by Susan Warner; Anna Bartlett Warner

CHAPTER X.

ROLLO'S COMPANY.

Gyda was expecting them, and certainly looked glad enough in her quiet way. She took Wych Hazel off into an inner room, a little bit of a clean, coarse furnished place, to remove her hat and refresh herself. When she came out, Rollo was busy making one of the great settle chairs into a resting place for her, with cushions and shawl as once before. He put her in it and sat down beside her.

'You have helped me to-day, Hazel. True help. But you know what was said of some of the early Christians"they first gave their own selves to the Lord"so I want you to do. You will not be the less, but the more, mine.'

She did not answer a word, only by the drooping head and the curious pale alternations of coloursure tokens with her of excited feeling. That thought had so run through the morning! had so half spoiled it for her at times.

'Not a word?' said he softly.

'If one word would do itBut it would take many.'

'Many words? to do what?' he asked in the soft musical tone that in itself was a caress.

'To tell why I cannot answer,why I cannot promiseto be all you wish.'

'Lay your head down and rest,' said he; 'and don't promise, but do it. Are you tired?'

He left her and went to help Gyda in serving her luncheon. This was rather a more enjoyable meal than the last one, when nobody could eat. There was happiness in every line of Gyda's shoulders, and in every movement she made between the fire and the table; and Dane was at home and at play. He was changed since a year before. The always bright, gay, masterful face was full now of a deeper purpose and a more centred energy; but the eye was as quick and as flashing as ever. And Wych Hazel, not as mistress in her own house but as guest in another's, was waited uponhow shall I say?as such men can do it. And that is rather a rare kind of petting.

A week? was it only a week ago? Hazel wondered. Those three days of prostration had seemed to put whole continents of time between her and the wild walk across the hill-top; though the traces of that day, and of the weeks that went before, were still visible enough. Not strong yet, to withstand and manage the incoming tide of new thoughts and prospects and responsibilities, she took all the petting and pleasure and care with the most gravely girlish face imaginable. Watching her two companions, listening to them, and giving them now and then a bright blush or smile out of the midst of her thoughts, yet all the time conscious of the thoughts as well.

No, she has not quite all he could wish; not all that he ought to have. She knew that; she had known it ever since last winter; and whatever love and devotion could do, let the supply be never so unlimited, they could not do all. There would be ground he would occupy, where she could not stand by his side; there would be work he would do, which she was not fit to share. Would be? there was now. This coming in among his labours and plans had brought it home to her keenly. All the same, she could take no new stand just to please him; it would not be true, she could not keep up to it, could not act it out. Was she ready, for other reasons, to take such a stand? The old tangle of perplexed questions seemed closing her in again; and now and then, between whiles, when Rollo was looking away, the brown eyes studied him; as if studying his face would magnetize her out of her difficulties,the one person in all the world who belonged to her, and to whom she belonged. But it was intensely like Wych Hazel, that the more she realized this, the more she hung back from following in the steps of his Christian life merely because they were his. They should be true for her, or she would not take them at all.

The talk at the table ran a good deal upon matters and things in the Hollow. Gyda knew the ins and outs of many a house there; she could illustrate and prove the truth of some of Rollo's statements, and she could suggest wants, even if she did not know to contrive the remedy.

'There's something you haven't thought of yet, Olaf,' she observed.
'They are just heathens and savages down there.'

'What makes you think I have not thought of it?'

'Well, you haven't begun to plan for it.'

'How can you venture to say that?'

'I haven't heard you say a word.'

'Do you think, Hazel, that proves anything?'

'It would not with me,' she said. 'But Mrs. Boërresen should know you.'

'She should,' said Rollo. 'It appears she don't.'

'You talk of a great many other things,' said the old woman smiling. 'I've been waiting to hear when that would come up. What are you going to do, lad?'

'Gyda is quite right,' said Dane turning again to Wych Hazel. 'They are little better than heathen, and do not know much more. You remember our first visit here? A party of the children had made a plan to throw stones at our horses as we passed through the Hollow on our return. There is no danger of that now. But what would you do with such a community?'

'I could not do much,' said the girl gravely. 'I suppose, if I were youYou should ask people who know what they are talking about, Mr. Rollo. Not me.'

'But I ask you. What occurs to you, as a good first step?'

'It did not "occur" to me,' said Hazel,'you made me think of it. I suppose, thenif I knew what you know, Mr. Rollo; if I felt as you feel; I should want to tell them that, first of all. I should set them the lesson you set me,' she added, her voice changing a little. 'Andvery much as you set it for me.' A swift deprecating glance begged him not to think that she was either criticising his work, or assuming that she knew what it was; or in general, that she knew anything about anything!

'And when and where would you do this?' said Dane, his manner quite grave and quiet, his powerful eyes nevertheless absorbing every indication of the changes in hers.

'I should think they would come any time when you wanted them,' she said, making revelations in her unconscious way.'Sundays, I suppose they would have most time. And Sundays, too, they would be a little more dressed up and ready for the best things you could tell them.'The words came simply, but very soberly, as if she remembered all the while that in such plans she had nothing to do.

'Well,' said Dane, 'our thoughts lie sufficiently near together. That is just what I have proposed to do, Wych.'

'Yes. I knew you would.'

'Do you think,' said he slowly, as he was helping her to something, 'do you think one ought to wait for anything but an opportunity before telling good news to people whom it concerns?'

'But I did not think you had waited.'

'No,' said Rollo gravely. 'I started a general proposition.'

'Opportunity is only the sand-paper,' said Hazel in her quick way.
'Of no earthly use without a match.'

Rollo's eye danced; nevertheless he answered as demurely as possible'What do you consider a match?'

'Hidden fire. The complement of the opportunity,waiting for it,ready for it. I suppose I meant that' she said, retreating into herself again.

'I suppose you did,' said Rollo smiling, 'for it is a sharp truth. But Hazel, there is also hidden fire in the good news we carry; and if we cannot make it catch, perhaps God will. Suppose you have nothing to give but the naked truth in your naked handwon't you take it to the people whose lives it may light up for ever?'

She did not answer him, thinking of the timenot now long pastwhen her own life had been like midnight. Hazel pushed away her plate, and folding her hands in her lap, sat looking down at them, or at her ring, or possibly seeing neither.

'Olaf,' said Gyda suddenly coming back from the outer door to which she had been summoned, 'somebody is a wanting you down yonder. There's always somebody wanting him now, my lady.'

'Who is it, this time?'

'Hans Heinrichhe has got hurt in some o' the wheels and things.'

'He is not one of my hands.'

'He is not; but he wants you, my lad, for all that. He's hurt bad; and there's no one to tell 'em what to do; and Lina Heinrich, she sends word to you to come for Christ's sake.'

Dane hesitated but a moment and turned to Wych Hazel.

'Can you wait for me?'

'O yes,I wish I could help.'

'You had better lie down and take a sleep. Look after her, Gyda.'
And he went off, losing no time.

Gyda had been clearing her table, and as soon as everything was in order she took a chair and sat down opposite Wych Hazel.

'What do they want him for so often, Mrs. Boërresen?'

'Help, my lady. O there's sore need of it, certainly. But these are not his own people; nevertheless there is no help but his for them.'

Hazel mused over the words, her own eyes going off to the fire now. She understood it all well enough,felt from the depths of her heart what delight it would be to help him, ever so little. And what could he think of her, that she was not more ready? Ah, if he only knew all the history of this year! all the questions and sorrows and perplexities she had been through!And it was just what she could not tell him, and just what he could never guess. So she gazed at the twinkling fire, shewing brighter and brighter as the afternoon began to die away; until at last, with her head somehow nestled against shawl and cushions in the extemporised easy chair, one sort of weariness claiming the right of way, Wych Hazel went fast asleep; and Gyda might study the fair young face at her leisure. Gyda's own face looked happy the while; and noiselessly she made up the fire, and softly her old lips whispered prayers oftentimes as she moved hither and thither.

The afternoon was waning, though evening had not yet set in, when the door opened gently and Primrose Maryland appeared. Gyda's finger at her lips stayed all but softly uttered words, till Primrose came up to the fire and looked at the sleeper in the cushioned chair.

Prim looked, and looked away. Her movement first was to go to the table and take off her bonnet and lay down her shawl and right herself a little. Yet Prim was nothing of a coquette, not the least in the world, and never thought about her dress but to have it respectable. Neither did she think about it now; for there was no glass in the room, and the movement with which she pushed the hair further back from her brow assuredly had no origin in regard to appearances. However she came back after that and looked at Hazel more steadily, and then sat down by Mrs. Boërresen to talk in a soft undertone which could disturb nobody. The two girls had scarcely seen each other since the fall before, except in the most casual manner at church or in some chance meeting. Hazel had had good reasons for keeping herself out of the way, and when they met had wrapped herself in a triple veil of defences; so that it was rather a revelation to see her as she looked now. A tired child asleep, instead of the energetic lady of Chickaree. Her three days' slumber had but partially done their work, and Hazel slept on now in the profoundest way; her face and hands in rather noticeable acceptance of the gray shawl, considering whose it was. Prim looked, and looked, from time to time in the intervals of talking, until the talking seemed to die away; and she sat drawn back into herself. The light was failing now. Gyda mended her fire again, and the heavy iron tongs slipped from her hands and fell with a harsh clang upon the hearth. Wych Hazel awoke.

The greeting then was very affectionate.

'Wherever in the world did you come from?' said Hazel. 'Does it take two people to keep watch of me?'

'I came here to be out of the way,' said Prim. 'Dane wanted Arthur, or at least the hurt man wanted him. What in the world are you here for, Hazel?'

'O I have been inspecting the mills,' said Hazel with a laugh; 'and of course after such profound work I was tired. But I did not mean to go to sleep. Has everybody else gone home?it is dinner time this minute.'

'Nobody has gone home,' said Primrose; 'and they cannot help about it's being dinner time, you know. Were you ever here before?in this house, I mean.'

'YesO,' said Hazel with sudden recollection, 'has it taken all this time to attend to that man?'

'Arthur is there.'

'Is he?that is good. But all this time!'with a shiver. 'I do not see how I could sleep!'She stood looking grave, as if rather disappointed in herself.

'Yes,' Primrose went on, 'Arthur and I were driving through the Hollow, just to see the things; and Dane laid hold of Arthur and sent me up here. He didn't tell me I should find you.' Primrose paused, as her eye fell on Hazel's cushioned and draperied chair. 'You have changed your mind about Dane, haven't you Hazel?' she asked abruptly. Hazel faced round upon her in undoubted surprise.

'Changed my mind!' she repeated, flushing all up,'what was my mind?'

'You rememberlast year.'

'What about last year?'

'Why you remember, Hazel. You did not like him at all, and used to get out of all patience with him.'

'Of course I did. There is no particular call to get out of patience just now. And even I generally wait for a reason.'

'Have you made up your mind you will never get out of patience again?' Prim asked, with a keen look to the answer.

'No.'

Prim's eye fell on the cushions and the gray shawl again.

'You aren't going to vex him, Hazel, are you?'

'Why Prim!'Hazel took hold of her shoulder and gave her a gentle shake, though with a queer mixture of softness and sharpness,'do I look like the good little girl in storybooks, that you put me through such a catechism?'

'No; but I find you up here,'and again Prim's eye went to the gray shawl and came back to her friend's face.

'I am not specially responsible for that. The thing just now is how to get away. Mr. Falkirk will be out of his wits.'

Prim was uncertain and dissatisfied, and sat back. A moment after came the steps of the two gentlemen at the door. As they entered, Dane with a smile and a gesture of salutation, went through the room to speak to Gyda in some of her offices. Dr. Maryland remained.

'Shall we go home now, Arthur?' said Prim, rising, when he had exchanged greetings with Miss Kennedy. Hazel was a little shy of him; somehow she half fancied that his quick eye had read her secret.

'Not possible, my dear. Rollo and I must be here all night, on duty.
And it is quite too dark for you to go alone.'

'That poor man?' said Primrose.'Does he want you still? you and
Dane?'

'No, it's not that. But some of that poor man's fellow-workmen have set their hearts, it is said, upon making a bonfire in one of Dane's mills,to stop his making some people more comfortable than others, I suppose; and the bonfire may need care.'

'A bonfire!' said Prim. 'I should think Duke would put a stop to that.'

'So he intends. But you cannot always stop a thing before it is begun.'

Dr. Arthur leisurely warming one foot as he stood at the fire, tool notice now that the third member of the company, not saying a word, was watching him with an interest before which even Prim's grew tame. And (all things being fair in the pursuit of science) suddenly intercepting the look, he found that it as suddenly retreated, in some confusion. Whereupon, 'standing attention' a little more, Dr. Arthur took the measure of the gray chair as accurately as if he intended to have one made for himself, and then with a smile came back to the more selfish business of warming his other foot. Therewith entered the temporary master of the house.

'Well, ladies!' said he; 'have you come to any conclusion as to what is to be done?'

'We do not but half understand the case yet, Duke,' answered
Primrose.

He passed through the room to Wych Hazel's side.

'I have got to be in the Hollow to-night,' he said. 'The wife of the man who was hurt, in an impulse of gratitude, I suppose, has warned me that an attempt will be made before morning to fire one of my mills. I do not half believe it; and yet I think I must be on hand. What will you and Prim do? There are only two things; for you to ride to Dr. Maryland'sand that is seven milesalongside of Arthur's buggy; or that you should spend the night here. I think Gyda can make you comfortable. I have sent a messenger to Chickaree.'

'Excuse me for interfering,' said Dr. Arthur, 'but as my buggy remains here, the honour of Miss Kennedy's company alongside would be of doubtful expediency.'

'Nonsense Arthur!' said Dane; 'if she wanted to go, I should let you take the buggy. What do you say, Miss Kennedy?'

'I shall stay,' said Hazel, just ready to laugh at the unwonted name.
'Unless I can go alone.'

'Sit down then,' said he taking her hands and putting her back in her chair. 'Arthur, take off your overcoat and make yourself comfortable if you can. Prim, I am glad to see you.' And he went over to kiss her. 'Now we have got the evening before us. Gyda, we are all going to stay. Is your kettle on?'