The Thorn in the Nest

"'Not walls nor hills could guard so wellOld Salem's happy ground;As those eternal arms of loveThat every saint surround.'"

A silence fell upon the room as the sweet old voice ceased, even Mrs. Barbour being shamed into momentary quiet.

Clare laid her babe down, stretched herself beside it and the older children, and her regular breathing soon told that she slept.

But Nell still sat with Bertie's head in her lap, her face hidden in her hands, while tears trickled between the white slender fingers, for her thoughts had gone back to her murdered friend.

"I shall never see him again in this world," she was saying to herself, "and oh, shall I meet him in another? Why, why did I never speak to him of Jesus? Now it is too late, too late!"

Some one sat down beside her and a voice said in low, rich tones, "I will not be afraid of ten thousands of people, that have set themselves against me round about! Dear Miss Nell, some trust in chariots and some in horses; but we will remember the name of the Lord our God."

"Thank you," she said, uncovering her face and hastily wiping away her tears, "but oh, it is not that, not fear of the Indians," she sobbed, the tears bursting forth afresh. "Dr. Clendenin, you have not forgotten what I owe to Wawillaway, and you know but the half!"

"I know that he saved you from the panther," he said with a look of surprise.

"Yes; and from I know not what at the hands of this very ruffian, Wolf." And in a brief sentence or two she told of her danger and her escape, adding with a low cry of pain, "And oh, I fear that it was in revenge for this that poor Wawillaway was slain. He has died for me!"

Kenneth was much moved, indignation against Wolf, gratitude for the fair girl's rescue, admiration of the brave chieftain, grief for his sad end, contending for the mastery in his breast.

"The wretch!" he said, "he is not worthy to live! He has killed a better man than himself. I too, grieve for Wawillaway. But, Miss Nell, you are looking sorely in need of rest; as your physician I prescribe a few hours of sleep."

He gently lifted the curly head from her lap to the couch, and bade her lie down beside the child.

"The major is with the party who are in pursuit of the assassin, and has left you and the rest of the family in my care; so that his authority is vested in me for to-night, in addition to that which I may lawfully claim as medical adviser," he said with one of his rare sweet smiles, "so do not venture to disobey my order, fair lady, and," he added in a still lower whisper, "let me give you this for a pillow to rest your weary head upon: 'I will both lay me down in peace and sleep: for thou, Lord, only makest me dwell in safety.'"

CHAPTER XVIII

Overcome with grief and weariness Nell unconsciously obeyed orders ere many minutes had passed, and as the hours dragged on bringing no new cause of alarm, very many followed her example, even Mrs. Barbour at length succumbing to the spell of tired Nature's sweet restorer.

They had a rude awaking. With the first streak of dawn in the east, the sudden, loud roll of the drum burst upon the startled air; – the appointed signal of the near approach of their savage foe.

Women and children sprang up with wild shrieks and cries of terror and despair. Kenneth, who had been pacing the hall, a self-appointed sentry, stepped hastily in at the door of the room where the Lamars were, his eyes turning anxiously toward their corner of it.

Mrs. Lamar sat on the side of the couch, trembling with agitation, clasping her babe close to her breast and trying to soothe the older ones, who were clinging about her, with the exception of Bertie whom Nell, deathly pale, but calm and quiet, was sheltering in her arms.

Watching her with tell-tale eyes, Kenneth essayed to speak; but could not make his voice heard amid the weeping and wailing.

"O doctor, save me, save me!" shrieked Mrs. Barbour, rushing toward him with outstretched arms and streaming eyes. "I'll be the first they'll attack; I know I will, and Tom isn't here to take care of me."

"Yes, he is," shouted Mr. Barbour hurrying in, "yes, he is, Nancy; though there's no great occasion, for it's a false alarm, all a mistake. The Indians are as much scared as we are, and are running the other way."

The excitement toned down rapidly while he spoke, and now the room was nearly quiet, all who were old enough to understand being eager to catch every word.

"God be praised," ejaculated Kenneth fervently. "But the signal, why was it given?"

"Ah," said Barbour, smiling, "our old friend had gone back, in feeling at least, to old revolutionary times and could not refrain from sounding the reveille."

"'Twas just good sport for him, no doubt, to frighten a parcel of poor women and children nearly out of their wits!" was Mrs. Barbour's indignant comment.

"Not at all," said her husband; "he thought every body would understand it."

Mothers caressed their little ones with murmured words of joy and thankfulness, feeling as if they had been suddenly rescued from impending horrible death, or captivity hardly less to be feared; neighbors and friends shook hands or embraced with mingled smiles and tears, congratulating each other that they were, after all, in no immediate danger.

The party sent in search of Wolf returned without him; he had made good his escape from that part of the country.

There was a large body of Indians at that time near Greenville, and to them Chillicothe presently sent a deputation of her prominent citizens.

The Indians, among whom was the celebrated chief, Tecumseh, gathered in their council house, received the white men and listened to their account of the late unfortunate occurrence, their detestation of Wolf's bloody deed, their ineffectual efforts to catch him, and determination to put him to death if ever they could secure his person.

The Indians replied that they knew nothing of these matters and desired to remain at peace with the whites, and finally Tecumseh and some others of the chiefs were persuaded to return with the deputation, and repeat these assurances to the people of Chillicothe and its vicinity.

A day was appointed, and the people gathered, an immense throng, to look upon and listen to the great Shawnee chief.

Major Lamar, his wife and sister were there; the older children too, for the major said it would be something for them to remember all their lives.

Captain Bernard and Lyttleton contrived to be near the Lamars, the latter close at Nell's side, leaning over her now and then, with an air of devotion and proprietorship exceedingly distasteful to Kenneth, who furtively watched them from afar.

But when Tecumseh's tall, commanding figure stood before them, and he began to speak, every eye turned toward him, every ear was intent to listen to his voice and that of his interpreter, a white man who had been a prisoner among the Indians.

Even as translated the speech was full of eloquent passages. He spoke in the strongest terms of the friendly relations existing between the whites and the Indians; said they were brothers, and that the Indians would never violate their treaty. He hoped both parties would abide by it forever, and the peace and brotherly love between them be as lasting as time. A shaking of hands followed the speech, and the throng quietly dispersed.

CHAPTER XIX

The Indian sachems departed, and life in Chillicothe fell back into its accustomed grooves.

Captain Bernard left for his Virginia home, but Lyttleton remained a boarder at the General Anthony Wayne, a self-appointed spy upon Kenneth's movements, and very frequent visitor to the hospitable dwelling of Major Lamar.

He continued to be a favorite with Clare, but found scant favor with Nell, whose politeness was sometimes freezing, while at others she would be only tolerably gracious. She was constantly comparing him, and always to his disadvantage, with Dr. Clendenin.

Lyttleton was handsome, polished, and an accomplished conversationalist, but Kenneth was fully his equal in these respects, and oh, how much more noble, brave and true; what an earnest, unselfish, useful life he led; how different from that of this gay idler who seemed to have no thought of anything but his own ease and pleasure!

She had about made up her mind that Lyttleton was a coward, too, remembering how pale he had turned on his first sight of Wawillaway, and having heard that he showed great agitation at the roll of the drum which so frightened the women and children with its false alarm that the Indians were almost upon them.

And nothing else so excited Nell's scorn and contempt as cowardice in a man.

Besides he now and then indulged in some remark disparaging to Kenneth, insinuating that he was of low birth and connections, less highly educated than himself, unskillful in his profession, pharisaical in his religion, and wanting in ease and refinement of manner.

All utterly false, as Nell knew; and she never failed to retort with cutting sarcasm, stinging rebuke, or a panegyric upon Dr. Clendenin so warm and earnest that she recalled it afterward with burning blushes.

What if her words should reach Dr. Clendenin's ears! What would he think of her, for with a sore heart she was compelled to acknowledge to herself that eloquently as his eyes had spoken once and again, his lips had never yet breathed one word of love to her; and not for worlds would she have him think she cared for him.

But there was no danger that Lyttleton would report their conversation; he would be loth indeed to give Kenneth the pleasure of knowing how high he stood in Miss Lamar's estimation, nor would he dare repeat his own base innuendoes. It dawned upon him at length that depreciation of his rival was not the best means of ingratiating himself into the fair girl's favor, and he changed his tactics, avoiding as far as possible all mention of Dr. Clendenin's name in her presence.

But she neither forgot nor forgave what he had already said, and in revenge threw out an occasional hint that she had grave doubts of his own bravery, while at the same time she lauded that of Dr. Clendenin to the skies.

Lyttleton was deeply mortified and cast about in his mind for some way of proving to her that he was not wanting in the manly attribute of courage.

"You seem to have an unbounded confidence in Dr. Clendenin's valor," he said one day in a tone of pique; "pray tell me what he has ever done to prove it?"

"With pleasure," she answered in grave, sweet accents, but with kindling eyes and a slight smile hovering about the lips, "I have seen it tried, or known it to be so, in many ways during the several years of our acquaintance; – in unhesitating exposure to contagious disease, in encounters with the fierce wild beasts of our hills and forests, in long lonely journeys out into the wilderness, all endured without flinching.

"So much for his physical courage. His moral courage is fully equal to it. He is not afraid or ashamed to show his colors, to stand by his principles, to acknowledge his allegiance to his divine Master by work or act, in whatever company he finds himself. He is not afraid of ridicule, of taunts or jeers, and I am sure would never hesitate to espouse the cause of the downtrodden and oppressed."

"I hate cant," said Lyttleton, coloring, "and never could abide these people who set themselves up as so much better than their neighbors."

"I entirely agree in those sentiments," replied Nell, "and so would Dr. Clendenin. He never obtrudes his sentiments or talks cant; and has a very humble opinion of himself; yet his life is such, so pure, earnest, self-denying and useful, that no one is left in doubt as to whose servant he is: and oh, he knows how to speak words of comfort and hope to the weak and weary, the sin-burdened and sorrowing!"

"And permit me to add, is most fortunate in having secured so fair and eloquent an advocate," returned Lyttleton with a bow and a mocking smile; "yet I must beg to be excused for my inability to see in him the paragon of perfection your rose-colored glasses would make him."

"If my glasses are rose-colored, permit me to say, yours are evidently begrimed with London smoke," retorted Nell.

"You hate me because I am an Englishman," he said gloomily; "and it is most unjust, since I had personally nothing whatever to do with what you Americans are pleased to style the oppressions of the mother country."

"No, I don't think I absolutely hate you, Mr. Lyttleton," she said meditatively, staying her needle in mid air for an instant; "on the contrary I have occasionally found your society not at all disagreeable; but," and the needle again went swiftly in and out, while her eyes were fixed upon her work, "I think if I were in need of a protector from – any great immediate danger – an expected attack by hostile Indians for instance, I should prefer one of my countrymen by my side."

"Now, Nell, that was really too bad," remarked Clare, after Lyttleton had gone. "The English are hardly less brave as a nation than ourselves."

"Of course, I don't deny that, but he's an exception, and deserving of all and more than I gave him for his mean way of depreciating a – "

"An absent rival," put in Clare with a laugh, as Nell paused for an appellation suited to Kenneth's worth. "Really I think you might forgive his evident jealousy, which is certainly flattering to you."

"No, not a rival but a far better and nobler man than himself," said the girl, the rose deepening on her cheek.

Lyttleton went away full of anger and chagrin, and lay awake half the night trying to contrive some means of convincing Miss Lamar that no more valiant man than himself was anywhere to be found.

He summoned his German valet at an unusually early hour the next morning.

"Hans," said he, while the man was busied about his person, "you are from Hesse, I think, and were over here during the war?"

"Yass, mynheer, that ish so; but I dells it not to dese peobles."

"No; of course not; and you need not fear that I shall betray you. But your experience may enable you to be of use to me in a new capacity."

"Vat ish dot, mynheer?"

"Have patience, Hans, and I will explain all in good time. Were you an officer?"

"Nine, nine, mynheer; not so goot as dot; vat you galls a brivateer?"

"A private, you blockhead," corrected Lyttleton, with a laugh. "Well, I wish you had been higher, though," he added meditatively. "If I could but get hold of the uniform of a Hessian officer, it would not matter now."

"Vell, mynheer, an' you gan keep von leedle segret, I dinks dot gan be found?"

"What! here in this little out of the way village?"

Hans nodded wisely. "Yaas, I finds him pooty quick."

"If you will do so and will make use of it as I direct," said Lyttleton, "you shall be handsomely paid for your trouble. And may rest assured that I will never betray your secret."

"Vell den, mynheer, I dell you, and I porrows de gloes, and does de work. Karl Hedwig was in de war, an – vat you call it?"

"Officer?"

"Yaas, and he's got de soldier gloes."

"Now? Here?"

Hans answered in the affirmative, going on to explain that Hedwig, whom he recognized as an old acquaintance, and his former superior in the army, had begged of him not to divulge the fact that he had served against the Americans: fearing that it would render him unpopular; but doubtless if it could be done without incurring that risk, he would lend his uniform for a consideration.

Lyttleton authorized Hans to hire it for the winter, naming a liberal sum and enjoining secrecy.

"I expect to find use for it one of these days or nights, which is all you need to know at present," he concluded.

Hans promised to attend to the commission promptly, and with due care that none should know of it save Hedwig and himself.

Godfrey Dale ran in to Major Lamar's that morning, directly after breakfast, to say that the young people were getting up a riding party for that afternoon, and to ask Nell if he might be her escort.

"You must please excuse my coming at so early an hour," he said, with a mischievous smile; "it was in order to forestall the Englishman, who almost monopolizes you of late, it seems to me."

"No, he does not," said Nell, looking but ill pleased. "He is here a great deal, I know, but I cannot forbid him the house."

"I left him in Clendenin's office," remarked Dale. "He is generally to be found there when he is not here; seems to admire the doctor prodigiously, tells me he has conceived a very warm friendship for him."

"Then he is an arrant hypocrite!" exclaimed Nell, her eyes flashing with indignation. "He is always saying or hinting disparaging things of him to me."

Dale looked surprised, then angry, then laughed lightly.

"To you, Miss Nell? Well, I suppose he dreads Clendenin's rivalry, and thinks all is fair in love."

"I shall think but ill of you, Mr. Dale, if you uphold him on any such plea as that," Nell said with vexation.

"Uphold him? No, indeed, Miss Nell. I only wish to be as charitable as the case will allow."

CHAPTER XX

Night was closing in dark and stormy after a day of clouds and incessant rain, mingled with sleet and snow; the wild November wind swept madly through the streets, whistled, shrieked and roared in the wide chimneys and through the forests, bending the trees with its furious blast, and causing a solitary horseman to bow his head almost to the saddle bow in the vain effort to shield his face from the fierceness of its wrath.

"Courage, my brave Romeo, this has been a hard day for you and me, but rest and shelter and food are not far off now," he said, patting the neck of his steed with gentle, caressing hand, as a temporary lull succeeded a more than ordinarily fierce onset. They had crossed the last prairie, threaded the mazes of the last forest, and were close upon the outskirts of the town.

It had, indeed, been a hard day, and the doctor was cold, wet and hungry; icicles had gathered on hair and beard, and the heavy overcoat he threw off on entering his office was stiff with frozen rain.

Zeb had a bright fire blazing, and on his master's entrance hastily lighted a candle and set it on the table.

"Ah, this looks comfortable," said Kenneth, shaking off the icicles and drawing near the fire. "Hurry, Zeb, and attend to Romeo. But first, has any one called?"

"Yes, sah; de major lef' word you please step roun' dar; one ob de chillen sick."

"Much the matter, Zeb?"

"Dunno, massa doctah; 'spec' you kin tell best 'bout dat when you gets dar; yah, yah," and Zeb vanished.

I think Kenneth sighed a little inwardly, and cast a somewhat regretful look upon the comforts he was leaving behind, as he made ready again to face the storm, donning a fur cap and a camelot cloak which he took down from a nail in the wall.

As he threw it off in the hall at Major Lamar's, the parlor door opened and a sweet voice said, "Come in, doctor. It was really almost too bad to ask you to come through this storm, and I think my brother regrets having done so; for little Bertie does not seem to be seriously ill now, though some hours ago he had quite a fever."

"Ah, I am glad to hear so good a report," Kenneth said, taking the soft white hand held out to him, and smiling down into the violet eyes. "But what sort of doctor should you think me if I were afraid to face wind, rain and sleet at the call of sickness?"

"Come to the fire and warm your hands," she said lightly, ignoring his query; "they are much too cold for the handling of my pet boy."

"You are right," he returned, holding them over the blaze.

They stood there side by side for several minutes, chatting on indifferent topics, the weather, the state of the roads, cases of sickness in the town.

He thought he had never seen her look so lovely, the beautiful, abundant hair gleaming like gold in the glancing firelight, the full, red lips, the large liquid eyes, so intensely blue, that now looked half shyly into his, now drooped till the heavy silken fringes swept the fair cheek whereon the soft color came and went with every breath.

Her dress was simple, but extremely becoming, plain gray in color, made with a long full skirt that fell in soft folds about her graceful figure, and neatly-fitting bodice, edged at neck and wrists with ruffles of delicate lace.

Her only ornaments were a knot of pale blue ribbon in her hair and another at her throat.

She was in one of her gentlest, most lovable moods, and he could scarce control the impulse to catch her in his arms, hold her to his heart, and cover the sweet face with kisses.

But he must not, he dare not, and at that instant the door opened and the major came in, carrying the sick child, and followed by his wife.

"Ah, doctor, glad to see you; though, since this little chap has suddenly changed so much for the better, I'm more than half ashamed of having called you out in such weather."

"No matter for that, major, it is no new thing for me to face a storm," returned Kenneth, shaking hands with Mrs. Lamar, then turning to examine his little patient.

Nell slipped away to the privacy of her own room for a moment. Her cheeks were burning, her heart throbbed wildly; she had read Kenneth's impulse in his speaking countenance.

"He loves me, he does love me!" she murmured, pacing hurriedly to and fro; "his eyes have said it over and over again, but why does he always force back the words that I can see are sometimes trembling on his very lips, as though it were a sin to speak them? O Kenneth, Kenneth, what, what is this separating wall between us," she cried, leaning her burning brow against the window frame and looking out into the storm and night.

A fierce gust of wind sent the sleet with a furious dash against the window pane and she shivered with a sudden cold.

The room was fireless, for in those days it was not thought necessary to heat any but the living rooms, and the air was damp and chill.

But she could not go down again, not yet; and wrapping herself in a thick shawl, she again paced silently to and fro schooling her heart into calmness.

The summons to supper found her so far successful that a slightly heightened color was the only remaining trace of excitement.

Dr. Clendenin had accepted an urgent invitation to remain and there was one other guest, a lady friend of Mrs. Lamar, from one of the neighboring settlements. She had been in Chillicothe a day or two and now found herself storm-stayed.

They were a cheerful party, enjoying the light and warmth and savory viands all the more for the cold, darkness, and fierce warring of the elements without.

Nell seemed the gayest of the gay, full of mirth and jest and brilliant repartee: but she avoided meeting Kenneth's eye, while he saw every look, every movement of hers, and when in passing an empty cup to be refilled, their hands touched, it sent a sudden thrill through both.

Kenneth was very weary and could not prevail upon himself to decline a seat for the evening beside the major's warm, hospitable hearth, nor refuse his eyes the privilege of feasting upon Nell's beauty, his ears that of drinking in each low sweet tone of her voice and the silvery sound of her rippling laughter.

"Where's your master?" asked Dale, looking into Kenneth's office, where Zeb was luxuriating in front of a blazing, roaring fire, seated in the doctor's arm-chair, hands in pockets, pipe in mouth and heels on the mantelpiece.

"Gone to de major's, sah," answered the boy, bringing his feet and the forelegs of the chair to the floor with a loud thump, and removing the pipe, as he turned to look at his interlocutor.

"He has, eh? and you're having a good time in his absence?"

"Yes, sah, massa doctah neber grudge dat when de work's done."

"No, I daresay not," and Dale drew back his head and shut the door.

"Gone to the major's, eh!" he soliloquized as he stepped back into his own den; "well I reckon I'm about as storm proof as he, so I'll follow, not being in the mood to appreciate solitude, and feeling that my hard day's work merits the reward of a little rest and recreation."

Lyttleton had come to a like resolve and was at that moment closeted in his own room with his valet, to whom he seemed to have been giving some directions; his last words as he wrapped himself in his cloak and went out, were, "Come towards midnight, for though these people accustom themselves to such confoundedly early hours, I'll manage to keep them up for once, and follow my orders implicitly. We could not have a more favorable time, the darkness, the storm, why if spirits ever walk abroad one would expect it to be on such a night as this," he concluded with a mocking laugh.