OWEN FINDS HIMSELF A PRISONER.
The little girl, with that wonderful intuition that leads children to
know who are in full sympathy with their hearts, seemed to need no other
guide than that one look into his smiling face, and she was ready to
trust him fully. Owen held out his hand impulsively.
"I am your cousin, Owen Dugdale. Perhaps you may have heard of me; and I
want to say I'm awful glad to make your acquaintance, Jessie Ferguson. I
didn't know I even had a cousin until just a short time ago this night;
and I came out on purpose to see what you were like. Look! I carry a
picture of my mother in this little waterproof case fastened around my
neck. That is what she looked like when she was a very little girl; and
you are her image. I'm glad I came back here now; something seemed to
whisper to me that it was best, and I know it was her dear spirit
speaking to my heart."
The child took the little locket and glanced at the face it contained,
at the same time uttering a cry of delight.
"Why, it is my picture. But you said it was your mother--that must have
been my Aunt Jessie! And you are my cousin, then? I have heard
grandpapa speak of you. But you don't look bad, and he said----" and
there she suddenly stopped, while Owen's face flushed angrily with a
sudden wave of resentment.
"What did he say--I want you to tell me?" he asked imperiously.
"I wish I hadn't spoken--he said you were a willful, headstrong
boy--there; but I think he didn't know you," she answered, clinging to
his hand in a confiding way that gave Owen the joy of his life.
With that he laughed, this time aloud.
"I guess he knows the Gregory spirit all right. I am headstrong; yes,
and willful, too, for I wouldn't be a Gregory otherwise. But don't let
us talk any more about that. Show me your new dolly. I don't know
anything about dolls, and never had one in my hands in all my life, for
you see we didn't have a little girl in our home, and the neighbors were
miles off. But I'd like to know your dolly. I heard you singing her to
sleep. Ain't you afraid all this talking might wake her up?" he went on.
"Oh, no. She sleeps so soundly you see. I can do anything with her and
she never cries. There, take her for a little while, Cousin Owen. How
funny it is to know a real and true cousin. I never met one before; but
I wanted to. I get awful lonely sometimes, for you see it's only me and
grandpapa at the table; and he is so busy he can't play much with a
little girl like me. Won't you stay here and be my real cousin? I don't
think I'd mind it much if there was only somebody like you to talk with
me. I get so tired being alone; and dolly won't answer me; she lets me
do all the talking."
This ingenuous manner of speech, perhaps a trifle oldish in its way for
a wee lassie of less than eight, acted like magic upon the heart of the
desolate boy, who had known no home ever since his mother passed over to
the Far Beyond; he then and there mentally vowed that he would settle
this business before he turned in that night; and it was already a
foregone conclusion as to what his decision must be--he could not bear
the thought that he would never see this little fairy again.
"I'll think of it, Jessie--you'll let me call you cousin, won't you?" he
said.
"Why, of course; we are cousins, ain't we? And you must be sure to say
you'll stay, because I know grandpapa wants you; he told me so. He is
getting old, and we worries a lot about me, just as if anybody would
want to run away with a poor little child like me; but I heard him say
that if Owen was only here to be with me he'd feel so much more
contented. So you see you must stay, because grandpapa wants you to, and
I want you ever so much, and dolly--don't hold dolly that way, boy. All
the blood will run to her head, poor thing. I'll show you how you must
do it," and like a wise little mother she took the imperiled one in her
arms, held her close to her heart and began crooning so sweetly that
Owen was enraptured more than ever. Here was a revelation, and it had
come upon him as suddenly as a shooting star bursts upon the vision of
the night watcher, and goes swiftly speeding down the heavens amid the
spangled hosts of other worlds.
Owen had not felt so happy in the whole course of his life, for he saw
before him a wonderful change in his miserable existence, and a future
home amid surroundings so pleasant that he could hardly believe it could
be meant for him.
Having quieted the imaginary disturbed dolly she tucked the object of
her anxious care into its crib, as if doubting the expediency of
allowing her in the clumsy grip of this newly found cousin until he had
been given a few lessons on the way to hold little girls' babies.
"Now," she said, having patted the clothes that covered the object of
her solicitude with a careful hand, "we can talk a little, if you will
be sure not to speak too loud. Grandpapa often wakes her when he comes
in, his voice is so awful gruff; but then he never means to and is
always so sorry. He grabs us both up, but he kisses me more than he does
my poor dolly."
Owen thought grandpapa was a very sensible old man, after all, and that
given the opportunity he believed, indeed, he knew, that he would show
the same partiality.
He was not quite ready to face the old factor as yet; before that came
about he wanted to be by himself and look the matter calmly in the face,
so as to decide once and for all, though deep down in his soul the boy
knew that this self-scrutiny must be pretty much of a farce, since he
would never be content to go away now and see this cunning little fairy
cousin no more.
Still, he did not want Alexander Gregory to come in suddenly and find
him there, so he considered that, having made the acquaintance of
Jessie, he had better leave.
If she chose she could tell the old man of his visit and that would
break the matter gently, so that when it came time for Owen to face his
grandfather the factor would be prepared to extend the olive branch, if
so inclined.
"Now I must be going, Cousin Jessie; I'm glad to have made the
acquaintance of your wonderful dolly, but more than that to know you,
and I hope to see you again tomorrow. Kiss your dolly for me when she
wakes, won't you?" he said, with another of those smiles that had quite
won the heart of the demure little maid.
"Why, of course, if you give me one for her," she remarked, without the
slightest affectation, and as if it were the most natural thing for one
cousin to thus salute another on parting.
Well, he did, with the greatest pleasure he had ever known without any
exception, and if the kiss were a bit bunglingly given that could be
excused on the plea of lack of experience.
And with the pressure of those rosebud lips against his went the last
lingering gleam of Owen's former resolution to hold resentment against
the factor, because of his harsh treatment of the mother whose memory he
treasured.
So he went out again into the night air, but it was no longer the same
Owen as of yore who looked up to the star-bedecked sky--many a time and
oft he had found sighs welling from his heart as he contemplated the
heavens and speculated upon what little of hope the future held for
him; but now he was thrilled with joy and peace such as he had never
known.
He sauntered around for a time trying to collect his thoughts, but there
were so many things to distract his attention within the great stockade
that he concluded it would be advisable to walk outside, where he could
be really alone with his reflections.
Before doing so, however, he could not resist the temptation to steal
back once more for another glimpse of the little fairy under the
factor's roof, so that he could carry the picture with him while he
settled the momentous question.
Perhaps he felt a vague sense of its all having been a dream, and wished
to thus reassure himself as to the reality.
Be that as it might, some subtle power took him back to the vicinity of
the door through which he had first caught his glimpse of Jessie, the
flower of Fort Harmony. For the first time he believed the post to be
well named, after all.
All seemed to be quiet in that part of the stockade, and as he did not
wish any one to see what he was doing, Owen carefully made out to avoid
contact with such of the habitues of the post who might still be
wandering about.
Thus he came to where he could look through the still open door.
The child was there, and seemed to be holding her precious dolly in her
arms as she rocked to and fro in a little chair; and Owen smiled to see
that every now and then the diminutive maid would bend down and kiss the
inanimate face with the greatest vigor.
Perhaps she was keeping her word and giving dolly the salute this new
and "awfully nice" cousin had left for her.
The picture was something worth while carrying with him as he went out
to commune with his thoughts and decide on his future.
Owen was just about tearing himself away, much against his will, when he
became aware of a strange thing.
Apparently some one else was hovering around that darkened part of the
stockade with the express purpose of peeping in at the door and feasting
their eyes on the pretty picture disclosed, for he discovered a head
between himself and the opening and which certainly did not belong to
the old factor by any means.
The man wore a skin cap and must belong to the brigade of trappers
working for the company, else why should he be here; but what right had
he prowling around at the back of the factor's dwelling at this time of
night?
Owen felt indignation taking hold of him, and this was increased tenfold
when to his surprise he saw that the individual was actually beginning
to glide noiselessly through the doorway.
It may be all very right for a _cousin_ to do this, especially when
invited by the little lady of the room to enter and make the
acquaintance of her new doll, but in another it must appear a crime.
So Owen stood there, quivering with suspense and indignation, hardly
knowing what he ought to do under the circumstances.
Who was this individual and by what right did he dare to enter here?
When the light fell upon his face Owen saw that so far as he was
concerned the other was a stranger, and a man with gray streaks in his
beard; but that put the boy no wiser than before.
Unconsciously Owen began to advance closer to the open door, as if he
believed it might devolve upon him to act as the child's protector,
although in one sense it seemed ridiculous to suspect that danger could
menace her, here in the domain of her grandfather, the factor, whose
word was law.
The man glided forward and seemed to speak to the child, for Owen saw
her turn and survey him wonderingly; then it seemed as if she shrank
back when the man put out his arms, still speaking in a wheedling tone,
and Owen could see Jessie shaking her little head in a decided negative
in answer to his questions--evidently the intruder was well known to
her, but at the same time she seemed to have no good opinion of him, and
again and again repulsed his advances, each time more decidedly, until
the man lost all discretion and proceeded to show a different side to
his nature.