IN WHICH PHIL HAS A VISITOR AT THE CASTLE.
"Won't you ride?" I asked, as the young lady stepped out of the road to
allow my team to pass.
"No, I thank you," she answered, with a smile and a blush.
I did not then understand the absurdity of the invitation I extended to
her. The wagon was simply a platform on wheels, with stakes. It had
been built by old Matt, though the wheels had been brought from some
town hundreds of miles down the river. It was the only vehicle on the
place, and was used for carting wood and hay, and for all the purposes
of the farm. It was not a suitable chariot for a civilized young lady,
dressed as prettily as Miss Gracewood was.
"Did you know that the steamer you came in had gone?" I added.
"Gone!" exclaimed she, with a start, and an expression of utter
despair.
"She left half an hour ago."
"What shall I do!" cried she, so troubled that I felt very bad myself.
"The steamer cannot have gone without me."
"She went more than half an hour ago," I added. "I suppose they thought
you were on board."
"O, dear! what shall I do!"
"She will come back after you when they find you have been left
behind."
"Do you think they will?"
"To be sure they will."
"Why did she go so soon? They have always stopped three or four hours
in a place."
"I suppose the boat had more business to do at other landings than
here. She only stopped here for wood. She whistled and rang her bell
half an hour before she started. Didn't you hear the whistle?"
"I did hear it, but not the bell, which I supposed was the signal to
call the passengers. It was such a pretty place in the forest that I
enjoyed it very much, and I did not think of such a thing as the
steamer starting for several hours. The boat whistles so much that I am
used to it, and don't heed it. What will become of me!"
[Illustration: PHIL AND ELLA. Page 95.]
"I don't think you need trouble yourself much about it. The steamer
will come back as soon as they miss you," I continued, very much moved
when I saw the tears starting in her eyes.
"I'm afraid they won't miss me."
"Why, certainly they will," I protested, earnestly. "Won't you ride
down to the landing?"
She glanced at the dirty wagon. She appeared to be tired after her long
walk, and the invitation was a temptation to her; but the character of
the vehicle did not please her. I had put a clean box on the wagon to
contain the small stores I had purchased.
"You can sit on this," I added, pointing to the box.
"I don't think I can get into the wagon."
I jumped upon the ground, and placed the box near the vehicle, so that
she could use it as a step. I did not understand the rules of gallantry
well enough to offer to assist her when she really needed no
assistance. She stepped upon the box, and, grasping one of the stakes,
easily mounted the platform. I placed the box in the middle of the
wagon, and she seated herself. I drove slowly to the landing-place, so
that the motion of the rude vehicle might not disturb her.
"I am afraid they won't come back to-night," said she, as she strained
her eyes in gazing up the river.
"Your friends on board would compel the captain to return; but he is a
very good man, and I think he will be willing."
"But they may not miss me. There are very few passengers on board, and
I have a state-room all to myself. I have been in it half the time,
reading, and they may think I am there."
"There will be another steamer along in a few days, and you can go in
her."
"In a few days!" repeated she. "What can I do for two or three days?"
"There's Mr. Mellowtone," I interposed, pointing to the pretty barge of
my friend, who was returning to the Castle, as he had promised to do.
"And who is Mr. Mellowtone?" inquired my fair companion.
I explained who he was: and by the time I had finished my description,
we arrived at the landing.
"There is no steamer to be seen," said Miss Ella, sadly.
"But she will come back, I am sure, even if she has gone a hundred
miles, when they discover your absence," I replied.
"I wish I could think so."
"You may depend upon it."
"It is almost dark now."
"The steamers run by night as well as by day, in this part of the
river, when the water is as high as it is now."
She walked down to the bank of the river, and continued to gaze
earnestly up the stream, while I employed myself in loading my goods. I
did not think, when I bought the barrel of flour, that I was now alone,
and two hundred pounds was more than I could lift from the ground to
the body of the wagon. But in the backwoods every person is necessarily
full of expedients. Taking a shovel from the shanty, which Matt had
built as a shelter in stormy weather, I dug a couple of trenches into
the slope of the hill, corresponding to the wheels, and then backed the
wagon into them, until I had a height of less than a foot to overcome.
Using a couple of sticks as skids, I easily rolled the barrel of flour
upon the vehicle. After loading the other articles, I was ready to
return to the Castle.
Miss Ella stood on the bank of the river, still watching for the
steamer. It did not come, and I invited her to return with me. She was
chilled with the cool air of the evening, and reluctantly consented. I
made a seat for her on the wagon, and assured her I should hear the
whistle of the steamer when she returned.
"I am afraid she will not return," said she again, very gloomily.
"Of course she will. I doubt whether she will go any farther to-night
than the fort, about twenty miles farther up the river," I replied.
"Your friends must have discovered your absence by this time."
"No," she replied, shaking her head, "they will think I am in my
state-room."
"Your mother is on board, I heard the captain say."
"She is, and my aunt."
"I am sure your mother will discover your absence. She will want to see
you before you go to bed."
"No."
I had no experience of domestic life among civilized people, but I had
read in books, lent to me by Mr. Mellowtone, that parents and children
were very affectionate. In the stories, little girls always kissed
their mothers, and said "good night" after they repeated their prayers.
I thought it would be very strange if Ella's mother did not discover
her absence till the next day. The young lady was very sad, and shook
her head with so much significance, that I was afraid her mother was
not kind to her, though I could hardly conceive of such a thing.
"Do you live here all alone?" she asked, after a silence of a few
moments, as though she wished to turn my attention away from a
disagreeable subject.
"I am all alone now, though it is only four days since the old man with
whom I lived was killed by the Indians."
"By the Indians!" exclaimed Miss Ella, with a look of terror.
I repeated the story of the attack of the Indians; but I did not wish
to alarm her, and refrained from saying that we expected another visit
from them soon. I had heard nothing from Kit Cruncher since he
departed, and I concluded that there was no present danger. My fair
companion sympathized with me in the loss I had sustained, and asked me
a great many questions in regard to my life in the woods. I told her
how I happened to be there, and I think she forgot all about herself
for the time, she was so interested in my eventful career.
We arrived at the Castle, and I found a good fire blazing in the room,
but I did not see Mr. Mellowtone, though he had lighted it. I conducted
Miss Gracewood into our rude house, and gave her a seat before the
fire. Unhitching my horses, I went to the barn with them. While I was
feeding them for the night, Mr. Mellowtone came in.
"I have been out into the woods," said he; "but I see no signs of any
Indians."
"I don't think there are any very near us," I replied. "If there were,
Kit Cruncher would return, and let us know of their approach. I have
some company in the Castle, Mr. Mellowtone."
"Company?"
"Yes; a young lady."
"Is it possible!"
"She was left by the steamer. She had been to walk in the forest, and
did not heed the whistle."
"This is not a very good place for ladies. We are liable to receive a
visit from the Indians at any time."
"Don't say anything to her about it. It would only frighten her, and
she is uncomfortable enough now," I suggested, as I led the way towards
the house.
"Stop a minute, Phil Farringford," interposed Mr. Mellowtone. "I think
I will not see your visitor."
"Not see her!" I exclaimed, astonished that one who had hardly seen a
lady for years should desire to avoid one, especially a young lady of
twelve.
"No; I think not."
"But she is young, and very pretty."
"So much the worse. It would revive old associations in my mind which
are not pleasant. I will tell you more about that another time. But the
steamer will return for the young lady--will it not?"
"Of course it will; but she thinks her friends in the boat will not
discover her absence before morning, for she occupied a state-room
alone."
"If the boat comes in the night, we shall hear her whistle. You and I
can sleep in the block house, and your visitor can have the Castle all
to herself."
"Very well."
"Now go and attend to her wants, and I will smoke my pipe in the field.
It would not be polite to smoke in the presence of a lady," continued
Mr. Mellowtone, as he left me.
He disappeared behind the building, leaving the aroma of his pipe after
him. I thought his conduct was very strange; but then I had always
regarded him as a singular man. He had never gone to the landing when a
steamer arrived. If he wanted any stores, or wished to send to St.
Louis for anything, he always commissioned Matt or me to do his
business for him. He had never whispered a word in my hearing in regard
to his past history, though he took a great interest in me.
I went into the Castle, and found that Miss Ella was as comfortable as
the circumstances would permit. I put some pitch wood on the fire,
which made the room light enough to enable one to read in any part of
it. I prepared some supper, of which she ate very sparingly, though
when, like an accomplished housekeeper, I apologized for the fare, she
declared that it was very good.
I had to unload the wagon; but the barrel of flour was still too much
for me, and I asked Mr. Mellowtone to help me, and he came to the front
of the Castle for that purpose. I lighted a pitch-wood torch, and went
out. Miss Ella followed me, and insisted upon holding the torch, when I
began to thrust one end of it into the ground.
Mr. Mellowtone could not help seeing her; and when I was ready to roll
down the barrel of flour on the skids, I saw that he was gazing at her
very intently.
"What is this young lady's name, Phil Farringford?" he asked, in a low
tone.
"Ella Gracewood," I replied.
"My daughter!" exclaimed he, with deep emotion, as he sprang towards
her.