Chapter I: A Sweet Lady (4)

"To this he made no response, but pointed upward to the hill we were passing, as if in some way our hope of safety lay there. When we had circled its base and reached the farther side, and that nearest the fire, he threw himself from his saddle, and in a voice so loud and fierce that it sounded high and clear above the shrieking wind, cried:

"'Blindfold and hobble the horses, and for God's sake don't lose time!'

"Saying which, he took from his saddlebags an old-fashioned pistol, and slipping the flint from out its socket, threw himself on the ground, and with its aid and the steel of his weapon sought to ignite the dry grass which covered the plain. Succeeding after a while, he gave a shout, as one might when saved from death, and springing to his feet, gathered a wisp of grass, and igniting it, trailed the flame along the base of the hill, first one way and then the other. In a moment the fierce wind catching the fire whipped it forward and upward, so that while my task was yet half done the flames had swept the sides of the height, and covering it, passed on. Following in a few minutes, we reached the summit, suffering little harm from the smoking and blistered earth. Arriving there, we were none too soon, for now the fire, that a little while before seemed so far away, reached us with leaps and bounds and such deafening roar that had we not restrained our horses we could by no means have kept them under control, so great was their terror. Reaching the edge of the burnt ground on which we stood, the flames leaped high in the air, as if striving to reach the spot whereon we stood, and this again and again, but after a while dying down without doing us any harm whatever.

"As the fire approached, it did not follow any given line, as one would think, but was caught up by the strong wind and thrown forward, and this in such quick succession that the whole plain seemed to take fire at once. It was in some respects like what one may see on the water when a hurricane, sweeping the tops of the rolling waves, carries them upward and forward, to let them drop finally like a deluge of falling rain. So the flames which we stood watching were continually lifted and carried forward by great leaps and bounds, and with such speed that the eye could only faintly trace their progress. At times, indeed, the earth itself seemed to be aflame, and all things about to perish, so fierce and all-pervading was the heat.

"As the fire came on a curious thing happened, for from out the tall grass about the base of the black hill whereon we stood the wild animals that live in the plain, with lolling tongues and bloodshot eyes, burst into the open, and seeing us, mounted to the summit, and crouched at our feet, trembling and panting, as domestic animals might have done, all their wildness clean gone out of them. At last, as the grass about us ignited, a fawn ran into the opening, but only to fall exhausted on its very edge. Seeing this, my companion ran to where it was, and taking the animal in his arms, brought it safely to the top. Afterward, not less curiously, when the fire had passed and we began to stir about, all the animals took fright and fled, their fear of man returning as if by one accord once the danger was gone.

"Thus we were saved, and in the manner I have described. When the fire had died down, and there was no longer any danger, I sought to express my thanks and admiration for my companion's coolness and bravery. He, however, as if thinking lightly of what had happened, was already preparing the horses for our departure, and with such expedition that ere I had recovered myself they were in readiness for us to mount. Springing into the saddle as if urged to haste by some motive unknown to me, he cried aloud:

"'Come, quick! the danger is past; I must be off!'

"Mounting my horse without response, we took our way down the side of the hill, and reaching its base, he stopped abruptly, saying:

"'I can't go on with you, but must hasten across the country to my home. My wife will have seen the fire and be crazed with fear until she knows I am safe; but if you would like,' he went on, seeing the look of distress in my face, 'I should be glad to have you go with me. It will not be much out of your way, and you can ride into town in the morning if you wish.'

"To this I answered that I should be only too glad to do as he said. 'But how,' I asked, 'can we find our way across the country on such a night, with every landmark gone?'

"'I know the direction, and my horse will take me home without bridle or spur or swerving an inch from the true course.'

"'Go on, then,' I answered, and without saying more we started; and after an hour's ride across the black expanse at a pace I thought only a madman would dare, we reached his home in safety, where we found his wife, as he had thought, prostrate and in tears. Our welcome was such as seldom falls to the lot of men in this world, though Mr. Holmes strove to make light of the risk we had run. She knew better, however, and so what he said did not lessen the shock; and at supper, which was soon spread, she ate nothing, but sat idly by, never taking her eyes off his face. Nor did he succeed in calming her during the evening that followed, though she said little or nothing. Thus we escaped, and alas! brave man, only that you should afterward be overtaken by a fate scarcely less cruel!"

Here our companion brought his story to an end, and leaning forward rested his face in his hands, as if consumed by the sad thoughts the recollection called forth. Waiting a while, Uncle Job spoke up, but with voice so low and broken as to be scarce audible:

"You used a name just now that is dear to us beyond speaking. Perhaps you remember Mr. Holmes' other name?"

"Yes, Charles; and his wife's name was Margaret," he answered without moving.

Hearing this, Uncle Job turned toward me and held up his hand as if in warning, but I overcome by what I had heard, burst into a paroxysm of tears, crying out:

"Father! Mother!"

At this outburst our companion raised his head, his look of melancholy giving place to one of surprise. Thus he continued to regard me for some time, until at last, understanding the meaning of what I said, he reached forward in tender pity, and lifting me up pressed me against his heart. Releasing me after a while, he took my hand, and leaning forward, looked in my face as one might gaze into the face of a friend long mourned as lost.

"Yes, the same; his mother's face and eyes, and something of his father's look, too," he murmured, as if talking to himself. "How strange that in the shadow of this hill I should meet their child. Gone; I thought never to see them again, but here they look out on me as before."

Overcome, I made no answer, and thus we went on in silence until our little party having in some measure regained its former composure, the gentleman, taking my hand, spoke up again:

"Tell me, my son, where you live, your home, if you do not mind."

"I'm going to live with Uncle Job," I answered; "but where, I do not know."

"I asked, thinking some time to be of service to you. Who knows: It would not be more strange than our meeting here; but this I want to ask of you, my child, that you will treasure the thought that I want to serve you: and that you may always know where I am and how to reach me, take this," and tearing a leaf from a worn book he took from his pocket, he wrote thereon his name and handed it to me; and I looking, read:

This precious paper I still have and treasure, and shall transmit to my children, as one might the relic of a saint or the memory of an event in which love mingles and grows stronger with the lapse of time.

NOTE.--Mr. Lincoln at the time of which Gilbert Holmes speaks was in his twenty-ninth year, but already bore in his drawn face the look of melancholy habitual to it in later life. This, as if forecasting in some way the doom that was finally to overtake him in the height of his career; but not, indeed, until his task was done and his country saved through his great wisdom and patriotic effort.--THE AUTHOR.

*CHAPTER XIV*

*THE HIGHWAYMAN*

When the day was half gone, and we were worn with fatigue and hunger, we reached the edge of the forest toward which we had been tending since early morning. Here in its shadows we came upon a lonely tavern, where we found dinner and a change of horses. Here, too, the mailbag was brought forth for the first time, and its contents scanned by our host of the "White Cow"--for such was the name of the hostelry--but unavailingly, for of letters or other matter concerning him there was not a scrap. Our dinner, which was quickly served, was simple in the extreme, but greatly to our liking, consisting of cornbread and hulled corn, with pork and hot coffee for relishes; and then, to top all, and in the way of dessert, wild strawberries, with cream from the White Cow's own dairy.

When we were ready to depart the stage was brought to the door, and taking our places, we bade our host adieu, greatly refreshed in body and mind by our short stop. The way lay through the deep forest, and our progress, before slow, now became still more deliberate, for there was scarce more than a path, and across this the rank shrubbery stretched its luxuriant branches as if to further bar the way. Moreover, the road, softened by late rains, was in many places impassable, so that we often found it necessary to alight in order to lessen the load. Nor was this sufficient in many cases, but in such emergencies the great strength of Mr. Lincoln answered us in good stead, being enough in itself to lift the vehicle from the mire and place it on firm ground. In this way our stoppages were so frequent that we ceased to give them any attention; so that finally, when we came to an abrupt halt on emerging from a small stream, we thought nothing of it until a man, springing from behind the overhanging trees, called out:

"Halt! Throw up your hands!"

Not waiting a response, he came forward with resolute step, covering the occupants of the stage with the weapons he carried. Scarce had the summons been made, however, than Mr. Lincoln, with a quick movement, thrust a pistol forward and fired. Missing his mark, the shot did not stay the robber, for now, coming on with longer strides, he thrust his pistols into the stage, crying out:

"Throw up you hands, or, by heavens, I'll blow your heads off!"

At this, seeing further resistance useless, Mr. Lincoln and Uncle Job did as they were told.

"There! that's more polite. God Almighty, what an ugly shot, though!" the highwayman exclaimed, and in proof of it held up his arm, showing the sleeve of his coat half blown away. "Most men would fire back, my friend, but I am more considerate, you see, though it's not nice to welcome a man who seeks agreeable company in so rude a fashion. There! you need not excuse yourselves," he went on, in a whimsical, good-natured way; "but get down, and lest you pinch your fingers, keep your hands in the air meanwhile. There! like that; thanks!" Saying which he moved back so as to let us alight, but keeping his pistols all the while pointed in our direction. When I got down, which I did with all haste, he laughed aloud, as he did at Uncle Job; but when Mr. Lincoln bent forward to follow, the robber, scanning his face, gave a start of surprise, and lowering his weapons, cried out, as if astonished beyond measure at what he saw:

"Great God! Mr. Lincoln!"

Hearing his name thus called, Mr. Lincoln sat still, scrutinizing the robber, as if trying to recall his face.

"Good Lord!" the highwayman went on, after a moment's pause, "who would have thought to run across you here! And to think I might have killed you, of all men. Do not get down, Mr. Lincoln, but let me, and in that way ask your forgiveness, and on my knees." Saying which, and without more ado, the bandit dropped down in the road in the most ludicrous way possible, looking for all the world as if he wished he were dead, so forlorn was his aspect. To all this Mr. Lincoln made no response, but sat gazing upon the other with darkened brow in which anger and surprise were mingled. At last, raising his hand to still the other, he said, in his slow, measured way:

"What is the meaning of all this nonsense, man--if indeed you are not mad or acting a part?"

At this the robber, still kneeling, removed his hat, which before partly hid his face, and doing so, displayed a countenance singularly handsome and free from look of evil or dissipation of any kind. Seeing him thus more clearly, Mr. Lincoln exclaimed, in a voice full of astonishment and anger:

"Fox, the highwayman!"

"Yes, Fox; the scoundrel you saved from the gallows, only to risk your own life to-day."

"If not me, some one else," Mr. Lincoln answered; "for if you would rob and, if need be, murder a stranger, you would not long respect a friend; but men like you have no friends."

"No, nor deserve any, and I wish you had killed me; I would like to have died that way," the robber answered, averting his face and rising to his feet.

"I only sought to cripple your arm, as your torn sleeve shows," Mr. Lincoln answered, looking him over.

"That was like you, but I did not deserve it, nor was it a mercy to me."

"No, but I do not wish your blood on my hands. You are not to die that way, but by the hangman, Fox," Mr. Lincoln answered, soberly.

"No, no, not that!" the other cried. "I am not so bad as to deserve such a death, for I have never killed any one, and did not intend injury to you, though you will not believe it, and ought not to."

"It is not likely; but tell me how long you have been following this kind of a life," Mr. Lincoln asked, after a pause.

"I have not followed it at all, or only since yesterday."

"You are not telling the truth; but how could you take to the road again after the promises you made me?" Mr. Lincoln inquired, with a mournful cadence in his voice.

"Oh! you think I have always been a highwayman, and lied to you?" Fox cried out at this in a pitiful way.

"Certainly; or how does it happen you are here?" Mr. Lincoln asked, his voice filled with distress at the imposition that had been practiced upon him.

"It was exactly as I told you at the time, neither more nor less, though every appearance is now dead against me, I know," Fox answered, appealingly.

"I have forgotten the particulars, or remember them only vaguely. Tell them to me again, and quickly; and speak the truth as you hope to be saved," Mr. Lincoln interrupted.

"I will, but I can't speak more truly than I did before. I was in bad company, and that was all, as I told you at the time; but that was enough to undo me. A little while before you came across me in the hands of the farmers I had been sick and unfortunate. Traveling across the country, I fell ill of a fever at a farmhouse where I chanced to stop for the night; and here I remained for many weeks, while the man and his wife, themselves far from well, nursed me back to life. When strong enough to go on I had nothing save my horse with which to pay them for their kindness. This I left, though they would have prevented it if they could. Going forward on foot, and greatly enfeebled, I fell in after a while with a man leading an extra horse. Whether out of kindness because of my forlorn condition or for some other reason I know not, he asked me to make use of the spare animal. This I did, thanking him for his kindness; but when we had gone a little way on the road, and I was congratulating myself on my good fortune, I observed men following us, and as soon as they were within hearing they called to us to stop. Upon this I turned about, but my companion, going to one side, entered the forest which here grew near the road. Of this I thought nothing, but when the party, coming up, accused me of stealing the horse upon which I was mounted, I looked around for my companion to confirm my innocence, only to find he had disappeared. They laughed at my explanation, and would have hung me had you not come up, and by entreaty and promises to see that justice was done, prevailed upon them to put me in jail. For you know how it is in this disordered country; a man may rob another of his purse, and even take life, and still have the benefit of a doubt, but to have stolen a horse means death, with no trial save by men in the heat of passion."

"That is the story I remember you told me at the time; but what did you do afterward, and why have you turned highwayman if you were honest before?" Mr. Lincoln interrupted, his voice wavering between distrust and pity.

"When I was set free every one thought me guilty, nor would they believe otherwise, saying I got off because the jury was influenced by your belief that I was innocent, and that it was your plea that saved me, and nothing else. When finally no one would give me work and I was warned to leave the country, I turned to the road for a living, and poor it is, for save a worthless watch I have nothing for my pains."

Here the poor robber, as if realizing anew his forlorn condition, fell to crying as if his heart was broken. At this we were all greatly moved, so distressing was the sight, and from disbelief were every one of us led to think he spoke the truth, and in all things had been much abused by the community. For a long time nothing was said, until at last, turning to the robber, Mr. Lincoln exclaimed:

"Well, Fox, I am led to believe you again, though your presence here confirms all the things said of you before. Surely with your talents you ought to be able to do something better than this."

"Let me have a chance, Mr. Lincoln, for there never lived a man less inclined to lead such a life; but my good name is gone, and I dare not show my face among honest men. Of all the wrongdoing laid at my door this is the beginning and end," he exclaimed, drawing from his pocket a silver watch scarce worth the carrying, and handing it to Mr. Lincoln. "A few hours ago, coming upon an old man, this was all he had, and so sorrowful was his tale that in pity I was led to give him the few pieces of silver I had in exchange. Nor would I have taken the watch, only that I could not see how I was to succeed as a highwayman if I let the first man I met escape me."

"I am afraid you would make a poor robber, Fox," Mr. Lincoln answered; "and if you are still inclined to live an honest life, I will help you to start anew. Our new country is full of such breakdowns, and happy the men who can and will retrieve them."

Saying which, Mr. Lincoln, reaching out his hand, grasped that of Fox, and with such fervor and good will that should I live a thousand years I could not forget the action, nor how it thrilled me. At this tears welled up afresh in the forlorn eyes of the poor wretch, and reaching forward he would have embraced Mr. Lincoln's knees but the latter, lifting him up, exclaimed:

"There, mount and follow us, or tie your horse behind and get into the stage if you would like that better. No one here will speak of what has happened," he added, looking at each of us in turn to confirm his words. To this appeal we answered with our eyes, for we were all filled with the greatest pity.

"You are capable of great things, Fox," Mr. Lincoln went on, "and hereafter you shall look to me till you get on your feet again, which will not be long," he added, as if to encourage him. Upon this, Fox, without saying more, mounted his horse and fell in behind the stage, where he rode on in silence the rest of the afternoon.

No word was spoken after we took our seats, and so it came about that I found myself again peering into the face of the man before me, who had shown, by turns, such courage and trusting faith and womanly tenderness. It was less perplexing to me now, and in its sad expression I read, as a child might, the story of his life and its hardships; hardships patiently endured, and that would forever make its owner tender to all who were afflicted or in distress; a face shadowing forth a thousand miseries, and that in youth had looked out on a barren prospect from a body overworked and poorly nourished; a face that hid itself behind eyes weary with disappointment and vain striving; a face to invite confidence and hold it forevermore; a face full of expediency, and that would have been commanding and self-assertive had it not been softened by long waiting upon the pleasure of others; a face truly great, but having in its texture other and lesser strains such as all men's have, the kingly line, not less than the peasant's; a face in which greatness dominated all others, but sensitive withal, and scarce fitted to endure the buffetings of unthinking boors who, to be made useful, must be smoothed into good-natured complaisance. Yet such tasks its owner set about, and succeeding, suffered naught save martyrdom, of which mankind will forever reap the fruits. Of my scrutiny Mr. Lincoln took no further notice, but shrank back again within himself, as if he would hide from every one what he was or sought to be. Inscrutable man! How truly great, and yet how truly tender and honest of heart! Surely such combination ne'er found lodgement in man before, nor will again until suffering and ambition blend strains as widely divergent.

Thus the afternoon passed until the sun was setting, when we stopped at a wayside tavern for supper and a change of horses. Here Mr. Lincoln arranged for Fox to stay until his return, some days later. As for the latter, he could not be moved to take his eyes off his benefactor, but sat as if entranced, and when we drove away, watched us from the road until our lamps were lost in the depths of the surrounding forest.

*CHAPTER XV*

*CONSTABLE BLOTT*

Nothing further occurred to disturb the monotony of our journey until we neared its end, on the afternoon of the third day, when I was thrown into a fever of excitement by the strange actions of a man of savage aspect who overtook us as we were slowly making our way. Pistols protruded from his belt, and as he passed he slackened his pace, and thrusting his lean face into the stage, gazed about with such fierce assertiveness that I threw up my hands, expecting we should surely be called upon to halt; but after eying us attentively, and me most of all, he straightened up, and putting spurs to his horse, was soon lost in the distance. Before this, however, at every stop, no matter what the cause, I fell back in my seat, scarce able to breathe, thinking to hear the report of a pistol and an order to halt, so greatly had the adventure with Fox upset my nerves. Nothing of the kind occurring, my peace of mind returned at last, so that I was able to pursue the journey with some comfort, until, as I say, the savage little man with the beaked nose and fierce eyes stirred my blood afresh.

In this way our long ride came to an end on the third day, when we alighted, none the worse for our journey, in the little town of Quincy. Scarce looking to the right or left, we hurried to the river to take the boat which lay tied to the shore, with steam up. As I followed on, however, wide-eyed, I was thrown into a tremor of fright by the sight of the savage little man who had passed us on the road, who now stood as if awaiting our coming. With him there was another man of great stature, but harmless-looking, with flabby cheeks and bloated hands that seemed about to burst or drop to the ground, so limp and dangling did they appear. This man had on some badge of office, but loosely, and not as if it gave him honor or in any way added to his dignity. Between the two, the man of huge frame and the pigmy by his side, there was such contrast that for the moment I forgot my fears in staring open-mouthed. Surely nothing more remarkable was ever seen before. The weazened, parched-faced, pugnacious little man, frail of body, and with legs no bigger than mopsticks, and chest as flat as a pieplate, stood erect and eager-eyed, with the spring of a panther, though long past the prime and vigor of life; while the other, scarce thirty years of age, was shambling and heavy on his feet, and had about his sunken eyes and spongy features the marks of a man fast falling to decay. The first, any one could see, was filled to the ends of his nails with love of life, and so had studied how to prolong it; but his companion, not regarding such things, except as abstractions not needful for him to consider with his huge frame and stanch stomach, was broken and winded long before his time.

As I came up, eying them and wondering, the little man turned to his companion, and pointing to me called in a voice I could plainly hear:

"That is the lad we are after, Blott. Lay hold of him, and see that he doesn't get away."

Upon this the latter, winking heavily, as if to collect his wits, came forward, and laying his hand on my arm, said:

"Hold on, my lad, I want you."

"What for?" I asked, staring at him.

"For company mebbe, and mebbe because I've a summons for you," he answered, good-naturedly.

"A summons! What's that?" I asked, confused, not understanding fully what he meant.

"It's the beginnin' of trouble for you, I'm afeered; but what's the world comin' to, Pickle. Don't children learn nothin' nowdays, not to know what a summons is?"

"Never mind that," the savage little man exclaimed; "but tell him and march along."

"Well, sonny, it's an order to take you to court," the other answered, placidly.

"To court!" I exclaimed, striving to free myself.

"To the justice's office, innocent. Where else could it be?" he answered, taking a firmer hold of my jacket.

"Why? I've done nothing, for we have just got here," I answered, still attempting to get away.

"Mebbe, but don't ask me, for blister my nose if I know; but quit wrigglin'; you're harder to hold than an eel."

"Well, I'm not going to any justice's office," I answered, slipping out of my jacket and starting to run.

"Hello, my bird!" he cried, catching hold of me. "Now keep quiet, or I'll put the come-alongs on you, an' I'd hate to do that, you're so young an' fresh."

"You are a bigger boy than he, Blott, and don't know half as much," the little man here interposed. "What are you about? Are you going to stand here all day wrangling with him?"

"If it was you, Pickle, I'd show you how spry I could be," Blott answered, eying the other.

Seeing no way of escape, I called at the top of my voice to Uncle Job, who had stopped a few feet away, and stood beside Mr. Lincoln, watching the loading of the boat. Hearing my cry and seeing the officer, they turned and hurried back.

"What have you got your hand on that lad for, officer?" Uncle Job asked, as he came up.

"'Cause I'm attached to him," he answered, winking stupidly at Mr. Lincoln.

"What do you mean! Let go of him, I say!" Uncle Job demanded, advancing with a determined air.

"Yes, when I've delivered him to the justice, as the summons says, an' not before; so don't git red in the face or meddle," the constable answered, facing Uncle Job and straightening up.

"The summons! What summons? There is some mistake, man! No one has issued a summons for him, for we haven't been here five minutes."

"You've another guess, my friend. I only know what I know, an' as the fee is small I'm not 'tending night-school to increase my learnin'. So stand back an' don't interfere," the constable answered, good-naturedly, but as one in the right.

"What reason is there for issuing the summons? Surely you must know that?" Uncle Job asked, bewildered.

"I don't know what he's done, nor why; but mebbe Pickle there can tell you. He knows everything," Blott answered, nodding toward the little man in gray, who now stepped forward and spoke up with great show of authority.

"The lad is a runaway, and is to be taken back to his home; and the justice's summons is to secure that and nothing more."

"No justice has any authority to meddle with him," exclaimed Uncle Job, angrily. "Moreover, what interest have you in the matter?"

"As to the right of the justice to meddle, that is a matter for him to determine, having possession of the boy. For myself, sir, I am a lawyer, and come here at the instance of my client to regain possession of her ward."

"Oh, rot!" Uncle Job exclaimed, in great wrath. "No one has a right to make any such claim. But come, officer, we are losing time, and nothing will come of standing here wrangling. Take us to the justice, so that the matter can be explained and the lad released."

"Fall in, then, for the justice's order is to bring the lad straight to him. Come now, young man, no more slippin' out of your clothes, but be good"; and with this admonition he turned about and led the way toward the town, the others following.

As we went forward, Mr. Lincoln, who had looked on without remark, unable, it was apparent, to comprehend the reason of my arrest, asked Uncle Job the meaning of it all. Upon this the latter explained how it was, giving him such account of his dispute with Aunt Jane as he thought necessary, but more particularly how she, an austere maiden lady of fifty, and of questionable gentleness of heart, sought to become my guardian whether or no. This strangely enough, he thought, for she had never been friendly to my mother, and, indeed, was thought not to have been well inclined toward my father at the last. Nor had she my love or respect, for that matter. For these reasons, Uncle Job went on, he had opposed her wishes, and was determined to do so to the end. To all this Mr. Lincoln made no reply, and when Uncle Job had finished, continued on in silence, as if summing up the case, pro and con, as a judge might do on the bench.

The town of Quincy at the time of which I speak was one of many small places that had sprung up on the banks of the Mississippi about the time of the Black Hawk war. Most of these exist to-day as attractive cities, but others not so wisely located have long since been abandoned, many of them being lost even to memory. New and unkempt, the houses of the little city were scattered here and there, as if placed by blind men or spilled off a tray in some unaccountable way. Such, however, is the beginning of all cities, their dignity coming later, with pride and prosperity, as in the case of men. Most of the stores and warehouses of the town, and there were not many, were grouped about the public square near the center of the village, and in front of one of these, built of rough boards and roofed with like material, our little party presently came to a halt. Above the door of this structure there was a flaring sign recounting the goods sold within and the great bargains that awaited the fortunate buyer. Below this, one more modest told that it was also the office of the justice of the peace, and this not strangely, for it was common then, as it is now in the country, thus to merge the duties of tradesman and magistrate.

When we entered, the justice was busy tying up a package, as were all his clerks, and this as if that were the chief end and aim of trade in Quincy, as it was in fact, and properly enough. Observing us, he motioned for the officer to go on to the office in the rear, where he occupied himself at intervals of the day hearing such cases as were brought before him.

The store through which we now passed I thought pretentious in the extreme, and indeed it was such a one as to cause a country lad to open his eyes in wonder. On the left the shelves were packed with bottles filled with drugs, all with picturesque and highly colored labels, as if containing tempting delicacies or things of that nature. Farther on there was crockery, and this of every kind; yellow, however, over-shadowed all other colors. In the display of these wares perfect candor was observed, and this without reference to the use the article was put to; but trade is ever thus ingenuous, having no real modesty. For gain is a brazen hussy, and never loses opportunity to display her charms if trade may be fostered thereby. On the other side of the store shelves stuffed with dry goods reflected back the hues of bright calicoes and delaines, interspersed with worsted and highly colored scarfs. Stockings of a passionate hue also hung here and there invitingly from conspicuous places. On the counter gaudy jewelry was temptingly spread in cases covered with stout wire, as if much in need of such protection. Further back a receptacle was piled high with fat, obtrusive pies, for those who craved delicacies of that nature. Beyond this groceries and tobacco occupied the space. Nor was this all, for from the ceiling savory hams and succulent pieces of bacon hung, redolent of the smokehouse and temptingly, so that the very sight of them made one's mouth water with desire. In the extreme rear a space was cleared, and here, facing the front, a chair and table served for the seat of justice. About these were other chairs, and empty boxes tipped on end, all arranged in the form of an amphitheater. Still back of these, packages of goods were piled, in which cheese and fish predominated, as was apparent from the odor that filled the place. At one side, to tempt the good-natured, a barrel of tobacco stood open, inviting all who would to fill their pipes without hindrance or pay.

Such was the court of justice into which we were ushered. As we stood patiently waiting the coming of the judge, Blott mopped his face and shifted nervously from one foot to the other, as if laboring under great excitement of some kind, but of what nature I could not tell, until at last, losing all control over himself, he let go my arm, and springing back, cried, in a voice of terror:

"Scat, you imps! scat!" at the same time kicking angrily at some object he saw before him. Seeing nothing, we all looked at him in surprise, which he, presently noticing, remarked in a shamed way: "I hate cats, and black ones more particular. They give me the shivers. Take 'em away; take 'em away, please, please, please!" he added, plaintively, waving his hand.

"I have always heard it said that it was a sign of good luck to have a black cat rub against you; but there are no cats here," the little lawyer spoke up, after eying Blott curiously for a while.

"Mebbe your sight's failin' account age, for there's three of 'em peerin' from under them bags yonder," Blott answered, looking furtively in the direction indicated.

"Three of them? Well, well, you have got it bad. What do you generally take for these attacks?" the lawyer answered, grimly, as if enjoying the other's fright.

"What do I take? Can't a man see cats without bein' thought queer? Any one can see 'em," he answered, turning to Uncle Job to confirm his statement.

"It is a clear case of jimjams," the lawyer went on; "and if you will take my advice, you will sleep more and booze less, my friend."

"Don't git gay now, grandpa, nor expect a fee for your advice. A little liquor wouldn't hurt you, or meat, either, if I'm any judge of its effect on skeletons," Blott replied, Without taking his eyes off the hiding-place of his enemies.

"Here, take a pull at this," the lawyer answered at length, handing him a flask filled with liquor. "The hair of the dog is good for the bite, they say; anyway, it will quiet your nerves till we get through with this trial, when I would advise you to go and drown yourself."

To this Blott made no reply, but taking the flask, emptied it without stopping to breathe.

"It's the drops that woman give me as has brought this on, an' nothin' else," he exclaimed, as he wiped his mouth with the flat of his hand.

What more he would have said or done I do not know, for all further conversation was here cut short by the entrance of the magistrate.

*CHAPTER XVI*

*BEFORE THE LITTLE JUSTICE*

The justice of the peace, a smiling, amiable man, given to trade and knowing nothing of the law, nor professing to, except as it was filtered to him through the hints of lawyers, bowed politely as he entered, and taking his seat, said:

"I am ready to hear your case now, officer."

Upon this Blott, who had in some measure regained his composure, stepped forward and raised his hand to be sworn, but remembering that such formality was unnecessary, dropped it, with a gesture of disgust, and answered:

"Please, your honor, this is the lad the summons was for," nodding down on me as he concluded.

Motioning me to come forward, the justice spoke up, with a reassuring smile:

"Don't be frightened, my son, for no one here intends you harm." This as if in answer to my distressed look, or perhaps because he too had a child somewhere more happily placed than I. Then, assuming the air of his office, he went on, but mildly and as if to give me courage:

"What is your name, young man?"

"Gilbert Holmes, sir?"

"How old are you?"

"Twelve, if you please.'

"You look older. Are your parents alive?"

"No, sir."

"Have you a guardian?"

"No, sir."

"What near relatives?"

"My uncle, Job Throckmorton, and my aunt, Miss Jane Holmes."

"Where does your aunt live?"

"On her farm, near Little Sandy."

"Does she seek to become your guardian?"

"Yes, sir."

"Does any one else?"

"Yes; Uncle Job."

"Is your uncle present?"

"Yes, sir," I answered, turning around and pointing him out to the justice.

At this Uncle Job, taking a step forward, bowed, and addressing the justice, said:

"This lad is my nephew, if you please, and I am taking him to my home. He is in my care, and I trust you will allow us to to go on without further hindrance."

"I am sorry to put you to any trouble, sir, but I must look into the matter now that it is brought before me," the justice answered, politely, scrutinizing Uncle Job as he spoke. Then turning to me he continued: "If you were allowed a choice, my son, which would you choose for your guardian, this gentleman or your aunt?"

Ere I could answer, the gray-faced little lawyer, thrusting himself to the front, interposed angrily, saying:

"I protest, your honor, against this method of trying the case. It will not lead to anything definite, for the lad is not of age to choose for himself, and has therefore no voice in the matter. I--"

"Excuse me, sir, but what interest have you in the matter?" the justice interrupted, annoyance clearly showing in his mild face.

"My name appears as attorney in the affidavit, as you ought to know. It is Sylvester Moth, lawyer, and I am here to represent the interests of my client, Miss Jane Holmes, from whom this lad was abducted by Job Throckmorton, surreptitiously and with malice aforethought."

"I protest that what he says about the lad's being abducted is not true," Uncle Job objected.

"We will come to that in a moment," the justice answered, pleasantly. Then turning to Moth, he asked: "Is the Miss Holmes you refer to the guardian of the lad?"

"Every one understood she was to act in that capacity, your honor, and it was generally recognized as the only fit thing. Because of this, legal steps were thought to be unnecessary; but upon the matter being brought to the attention of the proper tribunal, in the emergency that has arisen, the judge has expressed a desire to pass upon it in due form--and in Miss Holmes's interest, I may add."

"Let me see his summons," the justice interposed.

"Please, your honor, upon hearing of the lad's abduction, the necessity for haste was so great that I only had time to consult the judge informally before my departure. There can be no doubt, however, what his decision in the matter will be."

"Why should he favor Miss Holmes, may I ask, in preference to the other claimant?" the justice said, glancing in the direction of Uncle Job, who stood looking on with a face black as midnight.

"Because of the two she only is fit to serve. There can be but one choice between them, as you yourself must acknowledge when you hear the facts. Miss Holmes is a woman of mature years and great respectability, and possessed, moreover, of large property, so that she is able to look after the lad's comfort while young, and advance his fortunes when he comes to manhood. She is his aunt, his father's devoted sister, and deeply attached to him, and earnestly solicitous of his bringing-up and final position in the world, and for these reasons should be his guardian."

"Is not this gentleman equally worthy, equally solicitous?" the justice asked, as Moth came to a halt.

"No, your honor; it is impossible. The lad's reputed uncle, Job Throckmorton, who is he? No one knows. A youth without friends or fortune or fixed abode! Who can tell what he designs doing with the lad? Who will hold him accountable? Who trace him hereafter? A myth--here to-day, to-morrow where? What fate has he in store for this tender and homeless youth? We may surmise, and doing so, hesitate. Will it be a home and careful schooling and Christian example, such as Miss Holmes offers? Or--the thought chills me--the slave-block perhaps, and afterward some far-off plantation in the everglades of Florida, where a fortune may be had for such a lad? In view of this, and other things that will occur to a man of your experience and discernment, can there be but one course to follow in disposing of the lad? No; and in this I am sure we will agree."

This tirade was more than Uncle Job could patiently listen to, and thrusting himself forward, he again addressed the justice:

"May it please you honor, this man's insinuations in regard to myself and what I will do are unworthy of your notice. What he says about my having no fixed home is true, but I will devise ways for caring for the child, and such as his father and mother would approve and applaud were they alive. I am most tenderly attached to him, and having no family, will make his happiness the concern of my life. This I pledge you my word."

This true statement Uncle Job thought unanswerable; but while he hesitated, considering whether it was best to say more, Moth broke in again, more vehemently than before.

"Stuff! Nonsense! Talk, your honor; nothing else. Mr. Job Throckmorton, if I know anything of men, is nothing more or less than an adventurer. He seeks possession of the child to gratify a spite against my client, the lad's loving aunt, and not from any interest in the child himself. His malice is born, I may say, in misapprehension and fostered by a vindictive spirit that only a man with a bad heart could have. Miss Holmes offers her nephew a home, shielded by love, and holds out to him the care of a wise and tender mother. Could more be asked? In one direction, your honor, security and happiness await the youth. In the other, uncertainty, distressing doubt--at best the life of a vagrant. In view of all this, I crave your enlightened action in furtherance of the beneficent purposes of my client. This, I may add, will be secured by your holding her nephew to await the summons of the judge having jurisdiction in the case."

Such disposition of the matter, it was clear, struck the justice as being, under the circumstances, a way that could be safely followed, and looking toward me, he nodded as if in acquiescence. Thus in a moment all my hopes were destroyed--and oh, the grievousness of it! To be disposed of out of hand, as if I were a mere baby and helpless, when, oh, how dim and immeasurably distant childhood seemed to me! Not a thing, indeed, of yesterday, but far off, as if it had never been. No, never was I to know again the unconscious happiness of youth, but in its place the maturity that sorrow and abandonment quickly bring. Thus mourning, my thoughts turned, as in every emergency of my life, to Constance. Sweet Constance! How her heart would bleed did she but know of my sad plight, and this unhappiness she would share, with embrace of love, as always; but oh, how unavailingly! Thus thinking, I was comforted as if she were near me, and in the thought forgot my misery and where I was.

While my mind was thus filled with tender remembrance of my love, Mr. Lincoln arose and made his way forward to the cleared space before the justice, and the latter, observing him, stood up, and with a smile of recognition, shook him warmly by the hand. After some further exchange of greeting, wherein both seemed pleased, the justice asked:

"Do you desire to appear in this case, Mr. Lincoln?"

"Yes, if you please," he responded, moving back a step and bowing to the justice, as if in recognition of the dignity of the law, howsoever presented; "and may it please your honor," he went on, in his slow, melancholy way, "I venture to do so without solicitation, but properly, I think, in view of the unfriended state of this youth. I am, I may say, in a measure familiar with the case, and may add that it appeals to me deeply. What has been said by my brother lawyer in regard to the social position, wealth, and high character of his client, Miss Jane Holmes, is true in every particular," he continued, bowing to Moth. "She is well known to me, and that her every thought in regard to her nephew is creditable to her I cannot doubt. She has no object in desiring to befriend him save his good, and this I firmly believe, and in this view of the matter she has my gratitude and admiration, as she should that of every man."

"You see, your honor," Moth here broke in, exultingly, "he confirms what I have said in every particular."

"Will you keep still!" Blott spoke up, laying his hand on Moth's shoulder. "You can't hold the yarn an' wind it, too, Pickle. Let the other side have a chance, man. Why you're as full of wind as a bellus."