Crestlands: A Centennial Story of Cane Ridge

by Mary Addams Bayne

The failure of all former efforts to induce Kentucky to sever her allegiance to the Union and to join her fortunes with Spain had not destroyed the hopes of the Spaniards and of self-seeking Kentucky agitators. Thus the revival of the old troubles over the navigation of the Mississippi afforded an opportunity of which treacherous conspirators were not slow to avail themselves.

During the noon repast at the tavern, Dudley and James Drane had been neighbors at table; and when the meal was concluded, the two had linked arms and strolled up and down the wide portico running the length of the tavern, and serving to-day as a reception-room for the tavern and as a political arena for groups of excited men who were hotly denouncing Spain and all her works. Other groups near by were as earnestly, but far less noisily, insinuating that Spain was the best friend Kentucky could have, and that her interests lay in the direction of an alliance with the foreign power.

Somewhat apart from the larger groups three men were talking in low tones. Presently, at a sign which, unperceived by Dudley, passed between his companion and one of the men, Drane, saying that he desired to introduce Abner to three of the most agreeable and gifted men of the age, drew him toward the trio at one end of the porch, and presented him to General Wilkinson, Judge Sebastian and Judge Murray. Immediately after the introduction, Drane excused himself and withdrew. Before any conversation, save the usual exchange of introductory courtesies, had passed between the three distinguished Kentuckians and our young Virginian, Hiram Gilcrest came through the door opening from the hall. Seeing Dudley in what was apparently a confidential conversation with the three older men, Gilcrest stood a moment in the doorway, frowning heavily; then, turning, he strode through the hall to the negro quarters of the hotel. Here he found Uncle Zeke, his coachman, and ordered him to prepare for a speedy return home. When he returned to the porch, he walked up to the group of which Dudley was one, and said to him, after a somewhat curt salutation to the other three, "I am sorry to cut short your day's pleasure, but I find that a matter of grave importance necessitates our leaving immediately."

On the homeward drive Gilcrest explained the reason for this hasty retreat. "You were in the company of three of the slyest and most dangerous intriguers of these unsettled times. They are brilliant, daring men, and I fear many of our adventurous young men are being led away by their specious arguments and schemes for future greatness. You have never been in their company before to-day, have you?" with a keen glance at his companion.

Dudley explained that he had only exchanged a few words of ordinary civility with the three before Gilcrest had interrupted the conversation. He did not, however, mention that Drane had brought about the meeting, and had spoken of the men in glowing terms.

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CHAPTER XIV.

BETSY SAYS "WAIT"

Rarely ever since that August afternoon when Abner and Betsy had stood a moment in the pathway, gazing into each other's souls, and she had hurried away from him, could he by any pretext or maneuver succeed in being for one moment alone with her. Always when in her presence, either as one of the quiet home circle at her father's house, or at church, or at a neighbor's, he was conscious of a change in her manner towards himself. Much of her old, light-hearted gayety had vanished, and in its stead were a new quietness and reserve, without any trace of embarrassment, it is true, but with a demure dignity which made her seem to repel even such advances as ordinary gallantry would prompt any young man to make to a pretty girl.

Dudley tried vainly to win her back to her former attitude of cordial ease. Occasionally he noticed a merry chord in her voice and something of the old, sparkling playfulness of manner; but if he sought to answer her quips in the same vein of pleasantry, she would color warmly, answer gravely, and then seem to shrink from him. Never could he get her eyes to meet his. Once or twice, in some rare opportunity when he found himself for a brief moment alone with her, he had tried with the most delicate and insinuating skill to approach the subject of his love for her; but at the first hint she, like a fish that sees the line gleaming in the sunlight, would dart away to another topic, or would find some ready excuse for leaving him. Furthermore, the very power of his love made him likewise often constrained and ill at ease in her presence; and as the months dragged on, it seemed to him that not only was he making no progress toward winning her, but that he was losing even her former frank regard. He frequently questioned the reliability of the revelation which had come to him that afternoon at the spring; for although it had given him unmistakable knowledge of his own feelings, it had, he feared, erred in its interpretation of hers. Nor was the element of jealousy wanting to complete his torment at this period. Betsy was developing into the recognized beauty and belle of the county, and not only did the rustic swains of the neighborhood court her favor, but the fashionable beaux from Lexington and Frankfort found abundant attraction at Oaklands. The one feared most by Abner was James Anson Drane, who, besides being well-to-do and of good family, was handsome and gallant and stood very high in Major Gilcrest's good graces. In fact, it seemed to Dudley in his moments of deepest despondency that Drane had everything in his favor, while he himself had nothing to plead in his own behalf save the might of his love, and that between two such suitors as Drane and himself no girl would hesitate to choose the former.