"You told him—told him that I did. And I am so thankful to you; I would do anything for you. I dream of him all the time, and I see you with him. How terrible it is, shut up there and the sun is so bright for everyone else. Sometimes I go into the closet and stay there in the dark, for then I am nearer him. When will you see him again?"
"I am going back to town to-morrow."
"Will you please give him this?"
I reached forth my hand and upon my palm she placed a locket.
"I know that if you study law, Mr. Hawes, you will get him out. You are so strong that you can do most anything. Good-bye, and when you write to Guinea, send her my love."
CHAPTER XIX.
Four weeks passed and heavy were the days with anxiety, for I had received no word from Guinea. I thought of a hundred causes that must have kept her from writing, but, worst of all, I feared that she had written and that the letter had gone astray.
One afternoon, having thrown my book aside, weary of causes, reasonings and developments of law, I sat on a rock near the spring, musing, wondering, when suddenly I sprang to my feet, with Guinea in my mind, with Guinea before me, I thought. But this was only for an instant. A young deer came down the path, gracefully leaping, and my mind flew back to the time when I had first seen her running down that shining strip of hard-beat earth. Yes, it was a deer, and it ran down the brook, and presently I heard the hounds yelping in the woods. I returned to my room and again I strove to study, but the logical phrasing was harsh to me, and I threw down the book. I would fish in the pools that lay along the stream toward the mill. The ground in the yard and about the barn was so dry that I could find no angle worms, and I decided to dig in the damp moss-land near the spring. The hoe struck a hard substance and out came something bright. I stooped to examine it, and at first I thought that it was silver, but it was not—it was mica. I scraped off the moss and the thin strata of earth, and there I found a great bed of the ore. I dug deeper and it came up in chunks, and it was fine and flawless. My reading taught me that it was valuable, and I was rejoiced to find that it was on my own land. I got out as much as I could carry—indeed, I filled a trunk with it, and then carefully replaced the moss, smoothed it down and made it look as if it had not been displaced. My blood tingled with excitement and I was afraid that some one might have seen me. I took the trunk to my room and split off thin sheets of the mica, and the more I looked at it the more I was thrilled at the prospect that now lay, not in the future, but under my touch. And I was not long in resolving upon a course to pursue. I remembered that into our neighborhood had come from Nashville, Tenn., a large stove with mica in the doors, and I thought it would be wise to take my trunk to that city and by exhibiting its contents induce some one to buy the mine. I hastened to town, after hiding the trunk, and told Conkwright and Alf that unexpected business called me away for a few days, and then I returned home and hired a man to drive me to the railway station. I was afraid to trust the trunk out of my sight, but I had to let the baggage man take it, but I charged him to be particular with it, telling him that it was full of iron ore. He gave it a jerk and declared that it must be full of lead. When I had come into that community I fancied that the train was on wings, but now it appeared to be crawling. Night came and I was afraid that robbers might assail the train and expose my secret; but at last I reached Nashville, and then came a worry. How was I to find the man who had made the stove? I took my trunk to a hotel, wrapped a chunk of the mica in a handkerchief and set out to look for a stove dealer. I soon found a hardware establishment, and in I walked with the hardened air of business, and asked for the proprietor. A pleasant-looking man came forward, and I asked him what mica was worth. He looked at me sharply and answered that he was not thoroughly informed as to the state of the market, but that he thought it was worth all the way from five to twenty-five dollars a pound. "But mica of the first quality is scarce," said he, and then he asked if I wanted to buy mica.
"No, sir, I want to sell it. Is this of good quality?"