THE FATAL RIDE.
Esther and Jane arose on the morning of August 28th, 1878, as was their
usual custom, at half-past six, and ate breakfast with the rest of the
family.
After breakfast Jane went to Mrs. Dunlap's, Dan to his shoe factory with
his brother-in-law, William Cox, John Teed also went to _his_ work, and
none of the family remained in the house but Olive and Esther, who
commenced to wash up the breakfast dishes and put the dining room in
order, so that part of their work at least should be finished before the
two little boys came down stairs to have their childish wants attended
to. What with making the beds and sweeping the rooms, and washing out
some clothing for the boys, both Esther and Olive found plenty to occupy
their time until the hour for preparing dinner arrived. When Olive
commenced that rather monotonous operation, assisted by Esther, who, as
she sat on the door-step between the dining room and kitchen paring
potatoes, and placing them in a can of cold water beside her, attracted
her sister's attention by her continued silence and the troubled
expression of her countenance.
"What in the name of the sun ails you to-day, Esther?" inquired Olive,
really worried by her little sister's sad appearance.
"Oh, nothing, Olive! only I was thinking that if--that if--that if--"
"Well! well, go on, go on, it is not necessary to say that if--five or
six times in succession, is it, before telling me what's the matter with
you, you nonsensical, giddy, hard-headed girl. I believe you have fallen
in love so with Bob McNeal, that you are worrying yourself to death
because you know he is too poor to marry you and you are afraid some
rich girl will fall in love with him, and that he will marry her and
give you the cold shoulder. There, that's just what I think _is_ the
matter with you, and I can tell you one thing my young lady, and that
is, that the sooner you get over your infatuation for that young man,
the better for you, and the better for us all. There now, I'm done. No
I'm not either, listen to me, girl, and don't make me angry by turning
up your nose while I am giving you good advice."
"I'm not turning up my nose at you, Olive. I only felt like sneezing,
and wanted to stop it before it had fully commenced, and how could I try
to stop it except by working my nose in that way, when I have a big wet
potato in one hand and this ugly old knife in the other, and all wet,
too."
"Oh, nonsense, girl, don't keep on talking about ugly old knives and wet
potatoes, but listen to me. I feel it in my bones that trouble is in
store for us, and all through Bob McNeal. Now do be a good girl, and
take my advice and never invite him to call again; because I tell you,
Esther, that trouble is coming to you through that young man, for I feel
it in my bones."
"Well, Olive, I will tell you the truth; the fact is that--why here's
Jane! Why, Jane, what has brought you home at this time of day? It is
only eleven, and dinner won't be ready for an hour."
Jane, who had just taken off her hat and hung it up in the hall,
replied, "that as there was nothing more to be done at Dunlap's until
the afternoon, she thought she might as well be at home attending to her
plants as at the shop."
After looking at Esther and Olive a moment, she said, "What were you two
putting your heads together about when I came in? Esther stopped
talking as soon as she saw me, and Olive, I noticed that you went to the
stove and poured so much water into the tea-kettle from the bucket that
it ran over, just because you were looking at me instead of at the
kettle. You are both up to something, I know you are. Now come, tell me
all about it; is it a great secret? I won't tell anybody; tell me, do."
Esther, who has just finished paring the potatoes and is now putting
them on the stove to boil, takes a seat in the dining room on the settee
and has one of her sulky moods, during which she always declines to
speak when spoken to.
Jane looks at her a second and then says in a playful manner, "Oh, it's
all right, Esther, I can guess what it was; what nonsense. I'll go and
attend to my plants. Why, I declare it's a quarter past eleven already,
and I have got to comb my hair before dinner, too. Oh! my, how time
flies!"
So off Jane goes to her plants in the parlor, leaving Esther in the
dining room and Olive in the kitchen getting dinner ready as fast as she
can.
Olive had just gone behind the kitchen door that leads into the yard to
get another stick of wood for the fire when she was startled by a
scream; she feels instinctively that one of her children is in danger,
and she is right, for little George has just been saved from a horrible
death by Maud Weldon, their next door neighbor. The little scamp had
managed to crawl through the fence and get as far as the middle of the
street, when Maud saw him, and was just in time to prevent him from
being run over by a heavy wagon drawn by a pair of horses that were
being driven at a breakneck pace past the house. Of course the fair Maud
screamed, young women generally do at such times; but she saved George
all the same. Her piercing shriek brought the stately Miss Sibley and
her mother to the door of their house, which is almost directly opposite
Dan's, and also caused Mrs. Mitchell and Mrs. Bell to become so nervous
that they kept their children in the house for the rest of the day, when
they heard of the dangerous adventure George had had, for they both
arrived too late to witness the rescue. The watchfulness and care they
both bestowed on their little ones for the next week was so much time
thrown away, however, for it so happened that no more fast teams came
through that particular street for about a month.
Well, after the brave blonde, Maud Weldon, had become the heroine of the
hour, she went into Dan's cottage with Esther and Jane, who both ran out
when they heard the scream. Olive had already taken her boy in, washed
his little hands and face, put on his clean over-dress, and was now
holding him in her lap in the large rocking-chair. Maud Weldon was in
the parlor with Jane and Esther looking at the flowers and telling them
about her new beau, how handsome he was, and that she intended to marry
him if he asked her, winding up her conversation on the subject of beaux
with the remark that she was bound not to die an old maid, but was going
to get married for she wanted to have a house of her own to keep. And so
the conversation ran on between the three girls in the parlor until
dinner was nearly ready, when Mrs. Hicks, Maud's aunt, called her and
she went home.
After dinner, Esther and Olive were washing the dishes in the kitchen
and talking over George's narrow escape, when Esther suddenly made up
her mind to tell her sister what she was about to do when Jane's rather
unexpected return from the shop put an end to their conversation. So
after having put all the dishes away in the pantry, she told Olive if
she would promise not to tell anybody, not even Dan, she would tell her
something that must be kept a secret, because if it became known it
might make people nervous and could do no good.
"Very well," replied Olive, "wait until I get my sewing, then we will go
into the parlor, you can tell me all about it, and I promise that I
won't tell."
So they went into the parlor. Esther sat in the rocking-chair and Olive
on the sofa.
"Well, Olive," said Esther. "Now don't laugh, for it is about a dream."
"A dream!" exclaimed Olive. "A dream! go on, let me hear it."
"Well," began Esther, "last night I sat for two hours on the front step
looking at the stars. After I came in I went down into the cellar in my
stocking feet and drank about a pint of butter-milk and a large rat ran
between my feet; then Jane and I went to our room, shut the door, said
our prayers and went to bed, and in a short time we both fell asleep,
and I dreamt that when I got up in the morning every thing and every
body was changed except myself. This cottage instead of being yellow was
green; you, Dan, Jane, brother William, John Teed, Willie and George,
all had heads like bears, and you all growled at me, but yet could talk,
and, what was very strange, you all had eyes as large as horses' eyes,
only they were as red as blood. While I was talking to you I heard a
noise in the street and on going to the door I saw hundreds of black
bulls with blue eyes, very bright blue eyes, coming towards the house,
blood was dripping from their mouths and their feet made fire come out
of the ground. On they came, roaring very loudly all the time, right
straight for the house. They broke down the fence, I shut the front
door, locked it and then ran to the back door and fastened it. Then they
all commenced to butt the house so violently that it nearly fell over.
It shook so that I woke up and found that I had fallen out of bed
without waking Jane. So I got in again and soon fell asleep; but the
dream is still in my mind. I can see it still, and wonder what it means
until I get the head-ache. What do you think about it Olive? Do you
think there is any truth in dreams? Did you ever know of one to come
true, or do you think it was all caused by the pint of butter-milk and
my going into the cellar in my stocking feet, and the rat?"
"Well," said Olive, "I never could make up my mind fully on that
subject; but of this I am certain, whatever Dan dreams comes true; there
is no doubt about that. But don't tell him anything about this dream,
Esther, or he will be floundering around all night trying to find out
what it means; or Jane either, because, perhaps, it will scare her so
that she will be unable to sleep."
"Don't believe it, Olive, I have told Jane, and she says it was all
caused by the butter-milk I drank. She says it made me see a rat in the
cellar just after I had drank it, and that it was no wonder I saw bears
and bulls, too, after I went to sleep. Oh, my sakes alive, if I only had
a dream book, like the one Mrs. Emery used to have, I'd soon find out
what it means. Do you know, Olive, I have a great mind to go out to the
Indian camp this very afternoon and try if that fortune-telling squaw
who told Maggie Teed's fortune, and Mary Miller's, too, can't tell me
all about it. I want to know if it means that something terrible is
about to happen or not."
"Well," said Olive, "Esther, don't talk any more about it but read your
Bible, go to church, say your prayers, and ask God to take care of you;
then you need never fear dreams or anything else, for you must always
remember that God has more power than the devil, and always will have."
"Oh!" replied Esther, with a smile, "it is all very Well for you to talk
in that way, but I shouldn't wonder if the devil saw more of me than he
ever has yet before I die."
"Oh, Esther, how can you talk so; you ought to be ashamed of yourself,
and to think that you were brought up by grandmother too."
And so the afternoon passed slowly away, the beautiful blue sky which
had been so clear all day began to assume a darkish aspect, and
threatening clouds spread themselves between the earth and heaven. By
the time Dan and the rest had come home to supper, it looked very much
like rain. Dan said it was going to rain sometime during the night; he
knew it, because his rheumatism was bad.
Supper being ready, they all sat down and enjoyed it. After supper Dan
took a smoke, Jane went to her accustomed seat in the parlor near her
plants, William Cox and John Teed went out to see their girls, Olive put
the boys to bed, and Esther sat down on the front door-step all by
herself and sang "The Sweet By-and-bye" in a low voice.
The hands of the old fashioned clock in the dining room indicated ten
minutes to eight, when a carriage drove up to the gate, and a well built
young man jumped out, opened the gate and came in. As he entered the
house he shook hands with Esther, saying as he did so: "Go and put on
your hat and sack and take a ride with me Esther, and I will tell you
why I did not call last evening as I promised." This young man was Bob
McNeal, by trade a shoemaker, and a fine looking young fellow he was,
too. His hair and eyes were black, features, rather handsome, and he
wore a small black moustache.
As soon as Esther had received his invitation she ran up stairs, got her
hat and sack, ran down again, jumped into the carriage, which was a
buggy with room for two only, and off they drove. Jane came out to the
front door and called after them, just as they were driving away: "You
had better put the top up Bob, for it will certainly rain before long."
Dan, who had been sitting in the dining room in one of the easy chairs,
remarked to Jane as he was going up stairs: "What a pity Bob McNeal is
such a wild fellow. I'm afraid he will never amount to much. He is a
remarkably fine workman too; he has improved in his work since I took
him into the factory with me. Oh well, I suppose it's all right; good
night Jane."
"Good night Dan," said Jane.
"I hope your rheumatism will be better in the morning."
"So do I," replied Dan. And up he went to bed, Jane returning to the
parlor to wait for her beau.
Bob and Esther drove through Amherst, and turned down the road leading
to the Marsh. They were going to take a ride into the country. Bob said
that was the best road to take, and Esther did not care much which way
they went, so she got a ride.
While driving through a small wood, Bob seemed to be suddenly seized
with an attack of what lawyers are pleased to term emotional insanity,
for he dropped the reins and leaped from the buggy. Upon reaching the
ground, he drew from the side pocket of his coat a large revolver, and,
pointing it at Esther, told her, in a loud voice, to get out of the
buggy or he would kill her where she sat. She, of course, refused to do
as he requested or rather commanded, and, as it was raining and becoming
quite dark, she told him to get into the buggy and drive her home, and
not act like a crazy man. The remark about acting like a crazy man
seemed to enrage him past endurance, for he uttered several terrible
oaths, and, aiming the revolver at her heart, was about to fire, when
the sound of wheels were heard rumbling in the distance. He immediately
jumped into the buggy, seized the reins, and drove at a breakneck pace
through the pouring rain to Dan's cottage. Esther was wet through by the
time they had arrived at the gate. She jumped out, opened the gate,
entered the cottage and ran up stairs without noticing Jane, whom she
passed in the hall. Bob, as soon as she got out, drove rapidly down the
street.
As the hour was now ten o'clock, Esther immediately retired and, after
crying herself to sleep, slept until morning. Jane entered the room
about half an hour after her sister, engaged in prayer and then retired,
without disturbing her.
For the next four days Esther seemed to be suffering from some secret
sorrow. She could not remain in the house, but was continually on the
street, or at some of the neighbors' houses, and every night she cried
herself to sleep.
Of course her woe-begone appearance was noticed by the family, but they
refrained from questioning her, for the simple reason that they supposed
she and Bob had quarrelled; and as they did not approve of the
attachment between him and Esther, they were rather glad that his visits
had ceased, and gave no further attention to the matter, supposing that
she would be herself again in a week or two. Bob's continued absence
from the cottage--for he used to be there every other day--strengthened
them in the belief that they were right in their supposition, and so
they let the matter rest.