IN THE HEART OF AN ANCIENT WOOD.
Deep in the heart of the September woods there was gathered one morning a little company of greatly excited people. Old Cap’n Jack was the wildest of the lot. Next him in point of eagerness was the Colonel. Corny Stillwell was there; so was his brother Wicky, who had come across country to see how now fared Lucetta, the “shiftless” wife of his “energetic” brother. Of late these terms had been exchanged in the minds of the Wickliffe Stillwells, owing to various statements made them by their new friends, the “Water Lilies.” Being honest and warm-hearted they hadn’t hesitated to express their change of opinion; and it was a fact that though Lucetta Stillwell had never been so ill in her life she had never been so comfortable.
Lizzie, her sister-in-law, never allowed herself the extravagance of keeping “help;” but it was she who had hunted up a good old “Mammy” and established her in the lean-to of the little cabin. She had bidden this good cook:
“See to it that Lucetty has nourishments continual, and do for mercy’s sake, feed them skinny childern till they get flesh on their bones! They’re a real disgrace to the neighborhood, the pinched way they look, and I shan’t set easy in meetin’ if I can’t think they’re fatted up right. You do the feedin’ and we-all’ll find you the stuff.”
So on this special morning Lizzie had despatched her husband with a small wagonload of vegetables and poultry; and having left his load at the cabin, the sociable man had driven on to the Copse, to meet and inquire for the “Lilies.” Arrived at the boat, Aunt Betty had eagerly greeted him, explaining:
“You’re a man of sense and mighty welcome just now. Our people have gone actually daft over a dirty piece of paper and a few French words scribbled on it. The precious document belongs to the Colonel—Oh! yes, he’s here. He has been sometime. I think he means to tarry developments—that will never be. He’s infected all my family with his crazy notions and they’re off now on this wild-goose search for ‘buried treasure.’ I wish you’d go and warn them that they mustn’t trespass on private property, for I believe they’ll stop at nothing in their folly.”
“I’ve heered about that there ‘treasure.’ I ’low more time’s been spent by fools lookin’ for it ’an would ha’, arn’t ’em a livin’. Sure. Yes ma’am, they has so. How many’s at it now, Mrs. Calvert?”
She laughingly counted upon her fingers:
“The Colonel; the Captain; old Ephraim; James, Melvin, Gerald. Nor could Mabel, Aurora, Dorothy—Oh! by no means least, Dorothy!—resist the temptation to follow. And if I’m not greatly mistaken, I saw Chloe sneaking through the underbush a little while ago, with Metty in hand. I’ve heard nothing but ‘buried treasure’ ever since Gerald blundered upon a fancied trail, coming home from his second stay at your brother’s. Elsa, here, hasn’t caught the fever. She’s the only one among us, I believe hasn’t caught the money fever, for I confess even I am curious to hear the outcome—absurd as I know it to be. Mrs. Bruce says nothing. She’s a wise woman who knows enough to set a check upon her lips—which you’ll see I don’t. So, if you’ll be kind enough to ‘light,’ as they say here, and try to keep my people out of mischief, I’ll consider it another proof of your friendship.”