“Oh! that's it, is it? Well—very well.”
About an hour after this, Driscol issued from the house, and, springing upon the horse, rode away at a gallop toward Elwood's. Here he left the animal, but declined to enter; telling Hannah, who happened to be in the yard, to say to her father that “it was all right,” he pushed on toward home—tenderly rubbing his throat, first with the right hand and then with the left, all the way. Three days afterward, he disappeared from the settlement, and was heard of no more.
Grayson waited until near nightfall, and then took his way, as usual, to a little clump of trees, that stood near Elwood's enclosures, to meet Hannah. Here he stayed more than an hour, detailing the circumstances of the accusation against him, and laughing with her, over the ridiculous figure cut by her father's respectable lieutenant. Before they parted their plans were all arranged, and Grayson went home in excellent humor. What these plans were, will be seen in the sequel.
Eight days went by without any event important to our story—Hannah and Grayson meeting each evening, in the grove, and parting again undiscovered. On the ninth day, the former went to the house of a neighbor, where it was understood that she was to remain during the night, and return home on the following morning. Grayson remained on his farm until near sunset, when he mounted his horse and rode away. This was the last of his “days of grace;” and those who saw him passing along the road, concluded that he had yielded to the dictates of prudence, and was leaving the field.
On the following morning, the regulators assembled to see that their orders had been obeyed; and, though Elwood was a little disconcerted by the absence of Driscol, since it was understood that Grayson had left the country, the meeting was considered only a formal one, and the presence of the worthy lieutenant was not indispensable. They proceeded in high spirits to the premises, expecting to find the house deserted and waiting for an occupant. Elwood was to take immediate possession, and, all the way across the prairie, was felicitating himself upon the ease and rapidity of his triumph. What was their surprise, then, on approaching the house, to see smoke issuing from the chimney, as usual—the door thrown wide open, and Grayson standing quietly in front of it! The party halted and a council was called, but its deliberations were by no means tedious: it was forthwith determined, that Grayson stood in defiance of the law, and must be punished—that is, “lynched”—without delay! The object of this fierce decree, all unarmed as he was, still stood near the door, while the company slowly approached the fence. He then advanced and addressed them:—
“I think the ten days are not up yet, gentlemen,” said he mildly.
“Yes, they are,” answered Elwood quickly; “and we are here to know whether you intend to obey the authorities, and leave the country?”
“I think, Elwood,” said the young man, not directly replying, “this matter can be settled between you and me, without bloodshed, and even without trouble. If you will come in with George and John [his sons], I will introduce you to my wife, and we can talk it over, with a glass of whiskey.”
Another consultation ensued, when, in order to prove their dignified moderation, they agreed that Elwood and his sons should “go in and see what he had to say.”
Elwood, the elder, entered first: directly before him, holding her sides and shaking with laughter, stood his rosy daughter, Hannah!