“I’m Senator Ash.”
“Well, I don’t give a —— who you are; if you are Captain Jack himself, you catch hold there, as the Captain says, or ’twill be the worse for you. He won’t stand no foolishness. I’ve seen him string a man up for less than you have said already.” And the weather-beaten soldier looked so coldly on the senator that the latter deemed it best to go through the form of obeying, and, swallowing his rage as best he might, took hold and did his first manual labor in some years.
This was the first official act of Captain Thurston on his return, and, though it was an accident, it, perhaps, saved him trouble in the future.
The Captain availed himself of the earliest opportunity to hunt up his old friends. When he had pitched his camp and got settled, he sauntered up to Mr. Dockett’s. As he walked along he noted the changes that had occurred since he went away. The yards were more uncared for, the houses more dilapidated, and the fences more broken. As he entered the Dockett yard, he was pleased to observe that it was kept in its old trim order. The breath of flowers that he remembered so well, and had always associated with the place, met him as of old. When he opened the gate he saw that there were several persons on the porch; but as he approached they all rose and disappeared in the house. There were one or two white dresses in the party. He had not long to wait. At his knock Mrs. Dockett herself appeared, and he thought he could see the firm set of her mouth and the glint in her eyes as she bore down upon him. She looked much older. She did not appear surprised to see him. She invited him in, but did not say anything about her daughter; and at length the Captain had to ask after her. She was very well, she thanked him. She had some young friends with her.
In this condition of affairs, Captain Thurston had recourse to stratagem. He adroitly turned the conversation to Rupert Gray, and began to tell of his success in the West, and of the incident when he had showed such bravery while acting as a scout with him. He was conscious at once of the change in the good lady’s manner, and of the increased interest she betrayed; so he dilated on it at some length. No one ever had a warmer historian. He made Rupert out a hero, and was congratulating himself secretly on his success, when, with a sniff, Mrs. Dockett declared that she was not surprised at Rupert’s acting so. It was only what she should have expected from one of their young men, and she was not surprised that the Yankees should have been obliged to call on him to help them. But she was surprised that Captain Thurston should have exposed a boy like Rupert, hardly more than a child, to such danger. Why had he not gone himself to rescue his men? Thurston could not help laughing at the turn she gave his story. This shot appeared, however, to have somewhat cleared the atmosphere. Mrs. Dockett began to unbend. She “would see her daughter; perhaps, she would come in; she would like to hear of Rupert.” Just then, whether for this reason or one in which the visitor had a more personal concern, the door opened and Miss Dockett walked in unbidden. She, too, had grown older since Thurston went away; but the change was not to her disadvantage. The plump little figure had developed; the round face had in it more force; and she had become, if not a very pretty woman, at least a very comely one. She greeted the Captain distantly, but not coldly. She began by making war at once, and that the little officer was used to. It was only indifference that he could not stand.
“Well, and so you have come back, and I suppose you will expect us all to get down on our knees to you?” she said, her chin a little elevated.
“No, not you. I’ll make a treaty with you, if you won’t insist on my getting down on mine to you,” he laughed.
“To me? I supposed Miss Welch was the only one you did that to.”
This was encouraging, and the little Captain was instantly at his ease.