But other voices besides those of the English-looking stranger clamored
loudly for reasons, so the old sexton, with a sulky glance at his
interlocutor, proceeded to explain to his friends and neighbors, giving
in substance the story with which we are already familiar.
When he had finished his voluble story he drew a long breath, and added:
"Lord bless you, I knowed 'em all--poor Daisy, and Charley, and Maria,
and all, for I've been sexton at Springville nigh on to forty year. So,
as I was a-saying, after Maria confessed that cheat on her death-bed,
Mrs. Fielding felt like she couldn't see no rest till she took her
child outer the coffin with poor Daisy Forrest. So she get the permit,
and just teased and teased, and coaxed and begged, until I had to give
in and consent."
"And you were finely imposed on by the story of a mad woman!"
exclaimed a sneering voice, and three strangers came quickly upon the
scene. The one who had spoken was a medical-looking man with a sinister
countenance, and he continued: "Why, my good friend, this is a mad
woman who recently escaped from my asylum. I have been seeking her
everywhere, and I count myself lucky in finding her at last, for she is
very violent at times, and quite capable of murder."
Incredulous voices rose on the air, and Flower rose, pale and
trembling, saying, in her low, clear tones:
"I do not know this gentleman, but it is quite true that the lady is
mad. I know her well. She was sent to an insane asylum weeks ago."
"Then the story she has told is untrue, a figment of her disordered
imagination," said the English-looking stranger, who had offended the
sexton.
"No, it is the truth," Flower answered, taming her earnest gaze on his
face, and adding: "It was the knowledge of that truth that turned her
dark hair white in one night, and afterward drove her to madness. And
I am the helpless girl she reared as her own--I am Daisy Forrest's
daughter!"
No one thought of doubting her assertion. There she stood, looking at
them with the face of her whose ashes slept beneath their feet, and
awing all denial into silence.
Just then Mrs. Fielding stirred, and opened her dark eyes with a dazed
look. Flower bent over her with infinite pity in her sad blue eyes.
"Mamma!" she murmured, using the old, familiar name forgetfully.
"Flower!" exclaimed Mrs. Fielding, wildly, and there was a note of
gladness in her voice that was plainly recognized by all. For the
moment the poor woman had forgotten all but the love she had borne the
girl who had been her daughter so long. Her wild expression softened
into sweetness, and murmuring, "My darling!" she held out her arms to
the girl, who gently assisted her to rise.
Then Mrs. Fielding saw the half-filled grave yawning at her feet, saw
the curious faces around her, and fell memory returned.
She glared wildly at Flower's gentle, pitying face, and struck out
fiercely with both hands to push her away.
"Ah, I forgot!" she screamed, angrily. "You do not belong to me--you
are hers! Go--go, before I strike you! Go--"
But further speech was arrested by the doctor, whom she had not before
observed, but who now came in front of her, and said, sharply:
"Come, Mrs. Fielding, enough of this! You must come home now with me
and these keepers who came along with me to help carry you back."
A scream of horror broke from the poor woman's lips; but they proceeded
to pinion her hands firmly, regardless of the wild entreaties for
freedom that she eagerly poured forth.
"Oh, be gentle; do not hurt her, if you must take her away!" Flower
exclaimed, pleadingly; and at that Mrs. Fielding looked at her almost
tenderly and wailed out:
"Oh, Flower, do not let them take me away! I am not mad--I am not mad!
Oh, save me--you are my only friend!"
Smothering her wild cries with a handkerchief, the three men bore her
rapidly away.