The supper over and the table cleared, Parker took from the shelf his flute, and played for them many plaintive airs, so that Agnes’s heartache was made worse instead of better. She sat by her mother on the doorsill, Parker leaning against a tree near by. It seemed as if his melancholy strains were a reproach to her, and she could have wept. Polly, too, felt the spell of the plaintive melodies, and furtively wiped her eyes. Then her strong voice demanded something lively. “We’ll all have the doldrums; it’s worse ‘an a banshee’s wailin’,” she remarked vehemently, and to please her Parker struck up “St. Patrick’s Day in the Morning,” which broke the spell and set Polly’s foot to tapping time.
Then came the ride to the river which they desired to reach before dark, and this time Agnes sprang up before Polly, taking her mother’s place and declaring that it was but fair that they should change partners, and when they reached the river, though Parker would have rowed them across, they saw Jimmy waiting on the other side, and so their host left them to glide out into the moonlight, and all Agnes had for comfort was a remembrance that to her was given his last hand-clasp as he helped her into the boat, and that she so sat that her back was toward her home, and she could behold him standing there watching, till his figure, a silhouette in the moonlight, was hidden behind the trees. At the hilltop she turned to look once more, but he had gone, and what was silver moonlight or June weather to her?
CHAPTER XVII
IN ABSENCE
The mystery surrounding the copy of the will which had been extracted from Parker’s box was solved the next week, and by no less person than Jimmy O’Neill, who came in chuckling over the discovery. “When thieves fa’ oot honest folk win back their ain,” he said, nodding wisely to Mrs. Kennedy, and producing a paper from his pocket. “Hump Muirhead overketched himsel’, as I’ll be tellin’ ye. It seems he offered what’s most vallyble to a backwoodsman, a good rifle, to the one of his comrades that ’ud fetch him the will, an’ a dozen av em was on the lookout for it. Two av ’em kep’ their eyes on Park Willett from the time he left the house here till he got acrost the river, an’ seein’ him give a paper to David, they turned their attention to Davy instead, but they blundered in their plans an’ caught him comin’ home instead o’ goin’. Ivery man o’ thim bein’ anxious to kape his own counsel, they acted as saycrit as they could, an’ they all do be watchin’ their chanst; so when Parker drops the box, one av ’em is ready to pick it up, and gets out the copy, an’ seein’ no further use for the box, he drops it again where he found it. Not bein’ quite sure av what he’s found an’ not knowin’ the other two has seen Park give David the will, he waits till he gits where he can examine it, an’ then he carries it to Hump in full expectation of gittin’ the prize. But Hump see as soon as he pops eyes on it that it’s but a copy, bein’ as it’s written on the back av a letter addressed to Mr. Parker Willett, an’ he tells the puir gawk it’s no good, an’ the two av ’em has words over it, an’ the man, Bill Spear, brings it to me, thinkin’ he’ll get even with Hump by tellin’ the whole tale, an’ maybe do himsel’ a good turn. An’—” but Jimmy stopped short, considering that it would not be pleasant information if he told Mrs. Kennedy that there were some determined men in the neighborhood who were bent on ridding the place of Humphrey Muirhead, and who were threatening to tar and feather him if he did not leave within a given time. Jimmy himself was one of the party, and he did not mean that the plans should miscarry.
Jimmy’s listeners gave him strict attention till he had finished. “An’ why did he come to ye?” Polly asked with a twinkle in her eye.
Jimmy answered first by a sly nod. “He knew which side his bread was buttered on. I’ve not a forge for nothin’.” Polly understood. She had talked the matter over with her husband, and knew without being told that Bill Spear was aware that Jimmy was a leader in the plan to rid the neighborhood of Hump Muirhead.
“Alack-a-day,” sighed Mrs. Kennedy. “We’re a deal of trouble to our neighbors; I’d rather the will had never been found than to have stirred up riots.”
Jimmy laughed. “Ye’ve no call to say that, ma’am; it stirs up the blood to be havin’ a bit av adventure, an’ there’s no wan av us but’s glad to sarve you. It puts naebody in a pother at all. We’ll have ye settled in your own corner gin ye know it, Mrs. Kennedy. By the way, Nancy,” he turned to the girl who was eagerly taking in all the talk, “I saw Davy Campbell the morn; he was up for me to shoe his mare, an’ he says Jeanie would like to see ye; she’s a bit av news for ye.”
“Then I’ll go over.” Agnes looked at her mother for approval.