THE BRASS BOUND BOX
A moment later Kate had sped through the wood to the spot where Moses
was chopping, exclaiming:
"Oh, Mr. Jones, I've got to go home, back to Aunt Eunice's right away,
quick. Is there a shorter way than we came, or can I find that by
myself? Please tell me, quick, quick!"
Moses paused in his work and looked at the girl in great surprise. None
of his fishing-mates, if given such a chance as she had, would have gone
home till driven there; for the chestnuts had rattled out of their burrs
at a fine rate when he had threshed the trees, and it was impossible
that she should have gathered all or even many.
"Why, little Keehoty! Tired a'ready? An' I was plannin', by an' by, to
make a speck of fire in a safe place I know an' roast some the nuts.
Ever et hot roast chestnuts out in the woods?"
"No, no, never! Oh, dear! I'd like to. It--it makes me terribly hungry
to hear you speak of them, but--I must go home. Something has happened.
Something so important, I must, I must. Is there a shorter way? And if I
go by myself shall I meet a tramp?"
"'Tramp!' Bosh! That's Susanna's foolishness put into your head a'ready.
I only wish I could see a tramp, just to know the breed. But what is it
so important, if you please?"
"I can't tell you."
Moses whistled. "That's plump spoke, anyhow. Why can't ye? Are you sick?
Got a pain anywheres? Pep'mints are good for the stummick-ache, an' I
always carry a few in my pocket. See?" said the kindly old man, pulling
forth a paper bag and alluringly displaying its pink and white contents.
But to his further surprise Katharine declined the "pep'mints" and
indignantly denied the stomach ache, declaring that she must go home and
at once, and asking "which way first."
"Foller your nose, I reckon," retorted Mr. Jones, rather testily. He had
enjoyed the tale of Don Quixote, had taken a sudden fancy to Katharine,
had discovered that she knew "Oh, lots and lots more of stories just as
delightful," and had intended to do a small amount of chopping that day,
but a large amount of resting. The forest was in a glory of color, the
air was "mild as midsummer," and in his capacious pocket he had brought
his "tackle." His axe would furnish a couple of rods, and Katharine
should have her first lesson at angling in the near-by brook, where
trout were plentiful, it mattering little to this embryo constable what
the game laws were; and it would have amazed him to learn that had he
been in office he would have had to fine himself as the first, chief,
and habitual trespasser. Now all this pleasant prospect was altered, and
Moses "never liked to have his 'rangements upsot."
"Nor do I. Oh, dear! The more you talk the more I want to stay, and the
very more I mustn't. Good-by, I'm going. You can have the caraway cakes
and the red apple, and please, please take care my father's
'meetin'-basket.'"
But he laid a detaining hand upon her arm, and demanded:
"First tell me what you've got under your jacket!"
At her mention of the "meeting-basket" he had glanced across to the
chestnut-trees and had seen that precious receptacle carefully hung upon
a low branch out of harm's way. Yet here was the girl, hiding something
beneath her long blue coat, and acting as if she had great ado to keep
it there. It must have been a heavy, slippery something, because all the
while she talked she kept hitching it up and clenching it till her
knuckles turned white under the strain.
"I can't tell you, please," was the exasperating reply, as she wriggled
her arm free and set off at a swift pace.
Again Moses whistled, but now in disappointment rather than surprise. He
would have stoutly denied that he, a man, was possessed of curiosity
such as he attributed wholly to "silly women," yet it is certain that he
suddenly found the beautiful forest a disagreeable place, and reflected
that it was his duty to follow the young stranger.
"She's queer actin', at the best, an' sharp as a razor; but what caper
she's up to now beats me. Eunice ain't to home, an' Susanna never had
sense. If there's anything goin' on there'd ought to be a man 'round
with some sort of judgment in his head. Don't know what need there is
for more small wood bein' cut, anyway. We've got two woodsheds full of
kindlin' a'ready, besides the big ones of cord-wood for the reg'lar
fires. We could stand a siege an' not suffer, though Eunice never does
feel content 'less she's got fuel enough ahead to last two years. Hm-m.
It's gettin' too hot to chop, anyway. Must be Indian summer comin' on,
though I claim 'tain't due till November. Susanna, now, _she_ says
October, an' Eunice, _she_ calls that warm spell we always have the
first the winter an Indian summer. Seems if there was as many Indian
summers as there was folks, most, but I don't care. It's somethin' or
other warm enough to-day, an' I'll go home. I can set in the barn an'
sort apples. That won't be a heatin' job, an' 'll give me a chance to
have an eye on things. Oh, hum! I wish Monty would happen along.
Strange! how I miss that worthless, stutterin', big-hearted little
shaver! I wouldn't offer to take _him_ fishin' more'n once without bein'
took up on my word."
His cogitations at an end, his belongings secured, and his little-used
axe again over his shoulder, Moses went down to the chestnut-tree and
secured the "meeting-basket." But he was surprised to see how the leaves
at the foot of it had been scattered about, and that there was a hole in
the ground itself. There was also in this hole the imprint of something
square and solid, for the moist leaf-mold still retained the shape of
the brass bound box, and heaped at one side were the nuts Kate had
collected ready to put in the basket when once it should be empty.
"Must ha' been somethin' 'important,' sure enough, or she'd never have
left them nuts. Well, I guess I can store 'em in my pockets, an' I'll
coax her secret, whatever 'tis, out of her by givin' them back to her,"
mused this incurious man.
As fast as she could, and keeping an occasional glance upon certain
trees she remembered, Kate made her way back through the wood. But it
seemed confusing now and the ground rough. Coming in she had thought the
ferns and fallen branches "mighty pretty," but going out they hindered
her. The box, too, was heavy and difficult to hold, though as soon as
she was out of sight of Moses she took it from beneath her coat and
balanced it upon her arm. Then she laughed at her own precaution,
thinking how foolish she had been to hide it, for, of course, he would
know about it eventually.
"Only it is Aunt Eunice's, and I want her to see it first of all. I
wonder what is in it. And I wish it wasn't quite so heavy. Can it be
filled with gold? or diamonds, maybe. Oh, if it were diamonds--think!
Oh, dear! there goes my shoe-string untied again, and it trips me up so.
I must stop and tie it and see if I am going right. Seems as if I ought
to see that old church by this time, yet the trees are just as thick as
ever--or thicker. Now, old string, I'll knot you so tight you'll bother
me no more till I go to bed."
Placing the strangely fashioned box or casket carefully on a large
stone, Katharine flung herself down to tie her shoe. Which, having done,
and finding her position restful, it was natural that her imagination
should dwell upon the treasure she had found; and once at her
day-dreams, Kate was very apt to forget other things. Nor did she rouse
from her reverie till somebody close at hand demanded:
"I-I-I say! W-w-what's that?"
Instantly upon her feet she faced the intruder, vainly trying to hide
with her short skirts the glittering casket, as she demanded, in return:
"How dare you come upon a person that way? Why--you might have
frightened me into a fit. I don't like to be scared."
"Oh, f-f-fudge! I saw you if you d-d-didn't see me. What is t-t-that?"
Katharine coolly sat down upon the casket and thus effectually screened
it from view. "I thought you were sick, or--or shut up. Aunt Eunice went
to see if you needed nursing."
Montgomery sat down beside her. The small boulder upon which she had
placed the box was round, and it was difficult to maintain one's
position upon it without slipping. Doubly difficult if one were perched
upon a sharp-angled cube, and one's piqué skirt was stiffly starched. He
comprehended the situation and meant to be upon the spot when the
slipping occurred. He really didn't care very much to know what she was
hiding, but was grateful for a chance to tease somebody.
During the few days of his retirement he had not enjoyed that privilege.
The fact was that it was Alfaretta, not he, who had been ill; and that
he had been promoted--or degraded--to her position in the household. It
all depended upon the point of view; his grandmother maintaining that he
should feel proud to have the chance of serving her, who was unable, or
unaccustomed to serving herself, and he feeling that to be tied up in a
girl's pinafore and with bared arms set to washing dishes, peeling
potatoes, and scrubbing floors was a disgrace. In vain did the stately
old gentlewoman show him by her example that one could cook and clean
and still be dignified; her grandson remained unconvinced and
rebellious. He didn't believe that poor Alfaretta was sick. He knew she
was shamming just to get out of her work and make him do it for her. And
as for his being set to carry trays to a bound-out girl from the
almshouse--that was the bitterest drop in his cup of woe. He had been
sternly prohibited from "hectoring" the little maid, and the prohibition
sat heavily upon him. So heavily, indeed, that no matter who had crossed
his path when he was again liberated, that person was doomed to suffer
what Alfy had been spared.
That person proved to be "Kitty Quixote," never more worthy of her name
than as she sat in the forest dreaming marvellous dreams of the future;
of wrongs to be righted, of poverty banished, and all dependent upon the
unknown contents of a brass bound box. Under other circumstances she
would have rejoiced to see Montgomery, as the only young creature of her
own species yet met in Marsden, but not with this wonderful mystery upon
her mind. When he had appropriated a full half of her boulder,
uninvited, she waited a moment, then icily inquired:
"Where are you going?"
"N-n-n-nowhere."
"That's a good place. When?"
"Oh, b-b-bime-by," answered the lad, with easy indifference.
"You might be late," suggested Katharine, sweetly, yet inwardly longing
to mimic his stammering speech.
Then, all at once, she began to slide. There had been no perceptible
movement on Montgomery's part. Assuming an indifference as great as his
own, Katharine had leaned forward to inspect her second shoe-string, and
afterward attempting to regain her former uprightness, felt, instead,
that she was slipping downward. She landed angrily upon her feet, and,
facing about, she upbraided him as a "rude, unmannerly boy."
However, the mischief was done, her secret was out. Monty forgot his
desire to "plague her" in his surprised curiosity. Bending over the box
he examined it critically, and finally announced:
"T-t-that's the most b-b-beautifullest thing I ever saw. W-where'd you
get it?"
"Found it. But it isn't mine. It's Aunt Eunice's, and I think you are
horrid mean. I didn't want a person should know anything about it till I
could put it into her own hands, and then you went and came. Now the
whole charm of it is gone. Oh, dear!"
Montgomery ignored her unflattering remarks, and, lifting the casket,
exclaimed:
"H-h-h-heavy! H-h-heavier 'n lead. What you s-s-s-suppose is in it?
Where'd you find it? W-w-w-when?"
Since secrecy was no longer possible, Kate was only too glad to tell
everything, and now all desire for teasing had left the listener. He was
even ashamed that he had forced the girl from the rock, though glad of
the result, and in another instant both tongues were busy with
speculation concerning the astonishing find.
"It's so queer. It has no opening that I can see, for this broad band
around the middle looks perfectly smooth, as if it were all in one
piece. The band won't slip down nor up. The corners, the brass tips,
don't budge. It's a perfect cube--let's measure. Yes. Just as big one
way as another. The wood is as fine as satin and looks as if it had been
polished to the last degree. Do you suppose it is brass or gold that
trims it? And where, where did it come from? The earth on it was so
fresh I don't believe that it had been buried but a little while, and
oh, I'm just wild to know all about it. Come on. Let's go home. You may
carry it part of the time. But don't drop it. Don't, for your life!"
chattered the girl, placing the box in Monty's outstretched palms and
anxiously regarding his manner of holding it.
His face was a study. Boys, in general, are supposed to be intensely
practical and less gifted with imagination than girls, but this is a
mistake. Youth is the time for air-castle building, and whether it be
lad or lass who "dreams" there is but little difference. Poor Monty!
Unable to put his soaring thoughts into speech as his companion so
readily could, he had to be content with just thinking them. But as he
turned his beautiful eyes upon her she understood all that he would have
said and clapped her hands, crying ecstatically:
"Oh, I'm so glad! You're one can make-believe everything lovely, too! I
see it. What fun we'll have! Let's begin at once. We're in the enchanted
forest. We've been enchanted ourselves. But the fairy king has come and
shown us where to find the magic treasure that will unlock the whole
world for us and make us back into the real prince and princess that we
are all the time, though other people don't know it. He has given us the
magic box with the key in it, only he has forgotten to tell us how to
open it. We are on our way now to the Wise Woman. The Wise Woman lives
in the stone castle beyond the forest, and she will show us how to open
the box and to use the key. Because the box was hers once, before she
gave it to the fairy king to keep for us. She knew that one day we
should come into the forest and that all would happen that has happened.
That's what makes her the Wise Woman. She has lived a long, long time.
So long that her hair is quite gray and there are wrinkles around her
eyes. But the eyes are still clear and gentle and there is a pretty pink
color in her cheeks. She wears a soft gray gown with an old-fashioned
kerchief crossed over her breast, and sometimes, most always, there is a
flower thrust into the lace kerchief. Her hands are white and slender
and blue veined, but they look old, and her voice is sweet and gentle
like her eyes. Yet sometimes--sometimes, when other people who are not
at all wise but very troublesome come before the Wise One and displease
her, a little sharp fire gets into the eyes and a sour little tang into
the voice, and then the Troublesome One wishes she hadn't come!"
They had been walking swiftly toward the village, for to Montgomery
every step of the way was so familiar that he need not look for
landmarks, and his eyes had remained fixed in fascination upon the
girl's radiant face as she spun this fairy-tale without stop or
hesitation. It had been as real to him as to her, but now there came
over him a disappointment even more real. Pausing abruptly on the path,
he burst forth, indignantly:
"Oh, f-f-f-fudge! That Wise Woman's nobody but Aunt Eu-Eu-Eu-nice!"
At the same moment something heavy crashed through the underbrush, and a
man fell sprawling at their feet.