NEW PLANS.
Except Abigail Anderson and one other person, everybody in the little
world of Clark township approved mightily the justice and
disinterestedness of Andrew. He had righted himself and Julia at a
stroke, and people dearly love to have justice dealt out when it is not
at their own expense. Samuel, who cherished in secret a great love for
his daughter, was more than pleased that affairs had turned out in this
way. But there was one beside Abigail who was not wholly satisfied.
August spent half the night in protesting in vain against Andrew's
transfer of the river-farm to him. But Andrew said he had a right to
give away his own if he chose. And there was no turning him. For if
August refused a share in it, he would give it to Julia, and if she
refused it, he would find somebody who would accept it.
The next day after the settlement at Samuel Anderson's, August came to
claim his wife. Mrs. Abigail had now employed a "help" in Cynthy Ann's
place, and Julia could be spared. August had refused all invitations to
take up his temporary residence with Julia's parents. The house had
unpleasant associations in his mind, and he wanted to relieve Julia at
once and forever from a despotism to which she could not offer any
effectual resistance. Mrs. Anderson had eagerly loaded the wagon with
feather-beds and other bridal property, and sent it over to the castle,
that Julia might appear to leave with her blessing. She kissed Julia
tenderly, and hoped she'd have a happy life, and told her that if her
husband should ever lose his property or treat her badly--such things
_may_ happen, you know--then she would always find a home with her
mother. Julia thanked her for the offer of a refuge to which she never
meant to flee under any circumstances. And yet one never turns away from
one's home without regret, and Julia looked back with tears in her eyes
at the chattering swifts whose nests were in the parlor chimney, and at
the pee-wee chirping on the gate-post. The place had entered into her
life. It looked lonesome now, but within a year afterward Norman
suddenly married Betsey Malcolm. Betsey's child had died soon after its
birth, and Mrs. Anderson set herself to manage both Norman and his wife,
who took up their abode with her. Nothing but a reign of terror could
have made either of them of any account, but Mrs. Anderson furnished
them this in any desirable quantity. They were never of much worth, even
under her management, but she kept them in bounds, so that Norman ceased
to get drunk more than five or six times a year, and Betsey flirted but
little and at her peril.
Once the old house was out of sight, there were no shadows on Julia's
face as she looked forward toward the new life. She walked in a still
happiness by August as they went down through Shady Hollow. August had
intended to show her a letter that he had from the mud-clerk,
describing the bringing of Humphreys back to Paducah and his execution
by a mob. But there was something so repelling in the gusto with which
the story was told, and the story was so awful in itself, that he could
not bear to interrupt the peaceful happiness of this hour by saying
anything about it.
August proposed to Julia that they should take a path through the meadow
of the river-farm--their own farm now--and see the foundation of the
little cottage Andrew had begun for them. And so in happiness they
walked on through the meadow-path to the place on which their home was
to stand. But, alas! there was not a stick of timber left. Every
particle of the material had been removed. It seemed that some great
disappointment threatened them at the moment of their happiness. They
hurried on in silent foreboding to the castle, but there the mystery was
explained.
"I told you not to tempt me too far," said Andrew. "See! I have
concluded to build an addition to the castle and let you civilize me. We
will live together and I will reform. This lonely life is not healthy,
and now that I have children, why should I not let them live here
with me?"
Julia looked happy. I have no authentic information in regard to the
exact words which she made use of to express her joy, but from what is
known of girls of her age in general, it is safe to infer that she
exclaimed, "Oh! I'm so glad!"
While Andrew stood there smiling, with Julia near him, August having
gone to the assistance of the carpenters in a matter demanding a little
more ingenuity than they possessed, Jonas came up and drew the
Philosopher aside. Julia could not hear what was said, but she saw
Andrew's brow contract.
"I'll shoot as sure as they come!" he said with passion. "I won't have
my niece or August insulted in my house by a parcel of vagabonds."
"O Uncle Andrew! is it a shiveree?" asked Julia.
"Yes."
"Well, don't shoot. It'll be so funny to have a shiveree."
"But it is an insult to you and to August and to me. This is meant
especially to be an expression of their feeling toward August as a
German, though really their envy of his good fortune has much to do with
it. It is a second edition of the riot of last spring, in which Gottlieb
came so near to being killed. Now, I mean to do my country service by
leaving one or two less of them alive if they come here to-night." For
Andrew was full of that destructive energy so characteristic of the
Western and Southern people.
"Oh! no, don't shoot. Can't you think of some other way?" pleaded Julia.
"Well, yes, I could get the sheriff to come and bag a few of them."
"And that will make trouble for many years. Let me see. Can't we do
this?" And Julia rapidly unfolded to Andrew and Jonas her plan of
operations against the enemy.
"Number one!" said Jonas. "They'll fall into that air amby-scade as sure
as shootin'. That plan is military and Christian and civilized and human
and angelical and tancy-crumptious. It ort to meet the 'proval of the
American Fish-hawk with all his pinions and talents. I'll help to
execute it, and beat the rascals or lay my bones a-bleachin' on the
desert sands of Shady Holler."
"Well," said Andrew to Julia, "I knew, if I took you under my roof,
you'd make a Christian of me in spite of myself. And I _am_ a sort of
savage, that's a fact."
Jonas hurried home and sent Cynthy over to the castle, and there was
much work going on that afternoon. Andrew said that the castle was being
made ready for its first siege. As night came on, Julia was in a perfect
glee. Reddened by standing over the stove, with sleeves above her elbows
and her black hair falling down upon her shoulders, she was such a
picture that August stopped and stood in the door a minute to look at
her as he came in to supper.
"Why, Jule, how glorious you look!" he said. "I've a great mind to fall
in love with you, mein Liebchen!"
"And I _have_ fallen in love with _you_, Cæsar Augustus!" And well she
might, for surely, as he stood in the door with his well-knit frame, his
fine German forehead, his pure, refined mouth, and his clear, honest,
amiable blue eyes, he was a man to fall in love with.