YOUNG LOCHINVAR
"So light to the croup the fair lady he swung,
So light to the saddle before her he sprung;
'She is won! we are gone--over bank, bush and scaur;
They'll have fleet steeds that follow,' quoth Young Lochinvar."
The next afternoon, Major Gilcrest, from the window of a back room, saw
his daughter coming in alone through the shrubbery, and strongly
suspected that she had been meeting Abner Logan again. Gilcrest,
however, said nothing to her, and she went upstairs. She remained in
her room, busy over some needlework, about an hour. Then, as it was
getting too dark to sew, she put aside her work to go downstairs; but
just then she heard the key turned in her door, and found it locked
from the outside. She was a prisoner in her bedchamber.
She remained there for two days, without seeing any one but the negro
girl Polly, who three times a day came to the room to replenish the
fire and to bring her meals. From Polly, Betsy learned that Mrs.
Gilcrest was ill and confined to her room, and that Major Gilcrest was
preparing for a journey, and purposed taking his daughter with him. He
sent by Polly a curt note which further enlightened Betty of his
intentions. She was directed to pack her clothes and be in readiness to
start with him for Massachusetts as soon as her mother's health would
allow him to leave home. He also informed Betsy that he meant to leave
her in Massachusetts at a boarding-school.
Instead of obeying her father's command, Betsy spent her solitary hours
in trying to hit upon some mode of escape from her prison, or at least
for some means of communicating with her lover.
On the third night of her imprisonment she retired early, feeling that
she would need all her strength for the morrow's struggle; for she was
fully resolved that no power on earth should be strong enough to compel
her to leave home with her father. She was exhausted, and soon fell
asleep. In the night she was awakened by some one shaking her and
calling her name softly. She opened her eyes, and found Aunt Dilsey
standing over her with a lighted candle in one hand.
"Sh--, sh--, honey, don't mek no noise!"
"How did you get here?" asked Betsy, sitting up in bed and now
thoroughly roused.
"I stole de key f'um de nail in de hall, an' den slipped up de sta'rs.
I allus walks jes lak a cat, you knows, so Marse Hi didn't heah me. But
nebbah min' dat now. Git up quick, an' do whut I tells you. I'se
gwineteh he'p you 'scape to Marse Abner, dis berry hour. He's waitin'
fur you on his nag down to de bars at de eend ob de leetle woods
pastur', an' he'll tek you straight to de preachah's house, an' you kin
be married right off."
"But, mammy," began Betsy.
"Shet up, chile, an' do ez I says. It's yo' on'y chance; fur onct Marse
Hi gits you 'way f'um heah, it'll be many a long day foh you sees yo'
sweetheart ag'in. I tell you yo' pap's thet desprut dar's no tellin'
whut he woan do teh keep you an' yo' sweetheart 'part. So doan let me
heah no 'jections, but jes' listen to me. You'se to slip out frew de
ole log-room heah--you carn't git out frew de hall; fur yo' pap'll heah
you, shore, kaze his door's open, an' you knows he allus sleeps wid one
eye an' bofe years open. But you go inteh de log-room, an' clamb out by
de windah. See! Heah's a rope I done mek outen bedclothes. We'll tie it
to de bed-post, an' it's plenty long 'nough to reach most to de groun'
frew de windah, whut hain't more'n twelve or fou'teen foot f'um de
groun'. 'Sides, dar's notches all down de wall outside whah de
chinkin's done fell out. So you kin hold ontah de ropes, put yo' foots
in de gaps, an' git down ez easy ez ef 'twuz on sta'r steps."
The chamber Betsy occupied was in the ell of the house, and
communicated through a closet with the upper room of the old log house
of two rooms which had been left standing when the new house was built.
The lower apartment of this old structure was now used as a
weaving-room.
"But why not go down through the window of the lower room?" asked
Betsy.
"Kaze I carn't fin' de key to de door et de foot ob de sta'rway intah
de loom-room. But you woan hab no trouble, noways, climbin' down dat
wall. So hurry, an' while you dresses, I'll pack up some ob yo' clo's
in a bundle. I'se done shet ole Jock an' Ponto up in de woodhouse to
keep dem f'um barkin' an' rousin' yo' pap. Soon's you'se down safe,
I'll go out an' lock yo' door ag'in, slip down de sta'rs, an' Marse,
when he fin's you'se skipped, will think you'se 'scaped by yo'se'f.
But, anyways, I doan much keer ef he does fin' dat ole Dilsey holped
you; I hain't feared. He woan dar' tackle me."
"It seems hard," said Betty, "that I must steal out of my father's
house in this way like a thief; but it's my only chance."
Aunt Dilsey's plan worked successfully. Betsy, by means of her
bed-quilt rope and the chinks in the wall, had no difficulty in making
her escape. Old Dilsey, as soon as her young mistress reached the
ground, softly dropped the bundle after her, and then the girl sped
across the snow through the side yard to the little woods, where at the
bars her lover awaited her. She climbed up behind him on his brown
mare, Bess, and in a short while reached Barton Stone's house.
Logan had already related the circumstances of the case to the
minister, who said that the young couple were fully justified in the
step they had taken; and so they were married. Stone and his wife urged
them to remain the night with them, but Abner said that Mr. and Mrs.
Rogers were expecting them. Accordingly they rode away, and reached the
Rogers home about midnight. Late as it was, the entire family were up
and fully prepared to receive them.