As he spoke, he still kept his eyes on Arrison, his finger on the trigger, his piece ready for instant use.
CHAPTER XL.
POMP AGAIN
His hand did quake,
And tremble like a leaf of aspen green. —Spenser.
Still as he fled his eye was backward cast,
As if his fear still followed him behind,
As flew his steed as if his bands had brast,
And with his winged heels did tread the wind. —Spenser.
The adventure of Pomp with the black bull, or, as his mother persisted in declaring, “wid dat ole enemy Satan,” had no little influence on the events of this story, for it was partly in consequence that Kate received no succor sooner from either Sweetwater or the Forks.
Up to within an hour of dinner, Mrs. Warren felt no uneasiness at her niece’s absence, but when the time for that meal came, without the return of Kate, the good dame began to be seriously alarmed. Our heroine had not only said that she would not be gone for more than two hours, but had never before protracted her stay to dinner time.
Another circumstance contributed to the fears of Mrs. Warren. During the course of the morning the quiet of Sweetwater had been suddenly disturbed, by the appearance of a body of cavalry, which, emerging from the woods in the direction of Mr. Herman’s, had paused for awhile to water their horses at the head of the pond. Lying about under the trees, in a temporary bivouac, while their chargers cooled off, the dismounted horsemen had not, at the time, affected the good dame with any other feeling than that of admiration of their picturesque appearance. But when the trumpet had summoned them to the saddle; when they had wound slowly past the bridge, with their arms glittering in the sun; and when, two hours after, dinner was ready to be served, without Kate having returned, Mrs. Warren began, not only to be alarmed at her niece’s disappearance, but to connect that disappearance with the advent of the cavalry.
“Deary me,” she cried, wringing her hands, as she walked the parlor, “how could Charles leave us so unprotected. These rebel horsemen have carried off Kate, there isn’t a doubt of it.” For Mrs. Warren, with the prejudices of too many of her class, persisted in believing that the patriots were little better than highwaymen. “Oh! my poor niece! My poor niece!”
She burst into tears, and in this condition Pomp found her, when, some time later, he made his appearance to ask her whether dinner should be served immediately, or whether she would wait for Miss Aylesford.
“I couldn’t eat,” she answered. “Tell Dinah to keep the dinner waiting till my niece returns: that is, poor dear! if she ever returns. I’ve a presentiment she won’t, though. I felt so dreadful, when she went away this morning, that I know something terrible would happen.” And again she gave way to loud weeping.