In their eventless life the slightest incident acquired the importance
of a history. Thus, one day in June, Peter discovered a young couple
love-making in the shrubbery, and with the deepest agitation reported
the fact to the colonel.
Never before, probably, had the fluttering of the dear god's wings
brought more dismay than to these ancient involuntary guardsmen of
his hiding-place. The colonel was at first for breaking up what he
considered a piece of underhand proceedings, but Peter reasoned stoutly
that if the pair were driven out they would simply go to some other
retreat; and without getting the approval of his conscience to this
view, the colonel contented himself with merely repeating that they
ought to go straight and tell the girl's parents. Those parents lived
just across the street outside his grounds. The young lady he knew very
well himself, having a few years before given her the privilege of
making herself at home among his flowers. It certainly looked hard to
drive her out now, just when she was making the best possible use of
his kindness and her opportunity. Moreover, Peter walked down street
and ascertained that the young fellow was an energetic farmer living a
few miles from town, and son of one of the colonel's former friends; on
both of which accounts the latter's heart went out to him. So when, a
few days later, the colonel, followed by Peter, crept up breathlessly
and peeped through the bushes at the pair strolling along the shady
perfumed walks, and so plainly happy in that happiness which comes but
once in a lifetime, they not only abandoned the idea of betraying the
secret, but afterwards kept away from that part of the grounds, lest
they should be an interruption.
"Peter," stammered the colonel, who had been trying to get the words
out for three days, "do you suppose he has already--_asked_ her?"
"Some's pow'ful quick on de trigger, en some's mighty slow," replied
Peter, neutrally. "En some," he added, exhaustively, "don't use de
trigger 't all!"
"I always thought there had to be asking done by _somebody_," remarked
the colonel, a little vaguely.
"I nuver axed Phillis!" exclaimed Peter, with a certain air of triumph.
"Did Phillis ask _you_, Peter?" inquired the colonel, blushing and
confidential.
"No, no, Marse Rom! I couldn't er stood dat from no 'oman!" replied
Peter, laughing and shaking his head.
The colonel was sitting on the stone steps in front of the house, and
Peter stood below, leaning against a Corinthian column, hat in hand, as
he went on to tell his love-story.
"Hit all happ'n dis way, Marse Rom. We wuz gwine have pra'r-meetin',
en I 'lowed to walk home wid Phillis en ax 'er on de road. I been
'lowin' to ax 'er heap o' times befo', but I ain' jes nuver done so.
So I says to myse'f, says I, 'I jes mek my sermon to-night kiner lead
up to whut I gwine tell Phillis on de road home.' So I tuk my tex'
from de _lef'_ tail o' my coat: 'De greates' o' dese is charity;' caze
I knowed charity wuz same ez love. En all de time I wuz preachin' an'
glorifyin' charity en identifyin' charity wid love, I couldn' he'p
thinkin' 'bout what I gwine say to Phillis on de road home. Dat mek me
feel better; en de better I _feel_, de better I _preach_, so hit boun'
to mek my _heahehs_ feel better likewise--Phillis 'mong um. So Phillis
she jes sot dah listenin' en listenin' en lookin' like we wuz a'ready
on de road home, till I got so wuked up in my feelin's I jes knowed de
time wuz come. By-en-by, I had n' mo' 'n done preachin' en wuz lookin'
roun' to git my Bible en my hat, 'fo' up popped dat big Charity Green,
who been settin' 'longside o' Phillis en tekin' ev'y las' thing I said
to _her_se'f. En she tuk hole o' my han' en squeeze it, en say she felt
mos' like shoutin'. En 'fo' I knowed it, I jes see Phillis wrap 'er
shawl roun' 'er head en tu'n 'er nose up at me right quick en flip out
de dooh. De dogs howl mighty mou'nful when I walk home by myse'f _dat_
night," added Peter, laughing to himself, "en I ain' preach dat sermon
no mo' tell atter me en Phillis wuz married.
"Hit wuz long time," he continued, "'fo' Phillis come to heah me preach
any mo'. But 'long 'bout de nex' fall we had big meetin', en heap
mo' um j'ined. But Phillis, she ain't nuver j'ined yit. I preached
mighty nigh all roun' my coat-tails till I say to myse'f, D' ain't but
one tex' lef', en I jes got to fetch 'er wid dat! De tex' wuz on de
_right_ tail o' my coat: 'Come unto me, all ye dat labor en is heavy
laden.' Hit wuz a ve'y momentous sermon, en all 'long I jes see Phillis
wras'lin' wid 'erse'f, en I say, 'She _got_ to come _dis_ night, de
Lohd he'pin' me.' En I had n' mo' 'n said de word, 'fo' she jes walked
down en guv me 'er han'.
"Den we had de baptizin' in Elkhorn Creek, en de watter wuz deep en
de curren' tol'ble swif'. Hit look to me like dere wuz five hundred
uv um on de creek side. By-en-by I stood on de edge o' de watter, en
Phillis she come down to let me baptize 'er. En me en 'er j'ined han's
en waded out in the creek, mighty slow, caze Phillis didn' have no shot
roun' de bottom uv 'er dress, en it kep' bobbin' on top de watter till
I pushed it down. But by-en-by we got 'way out in de creek, en bof uv
us wuz tremblin'. En I says to 'er ve'y kin'ly, 'When I put you un'er
de watter, Phillis, you mus' try en hole yo'se'f stiff, so I can lif'
you up easy.' But I hadn't mo' 'n jes got 'er laid back over de watter
ready to souze 'er un'er when 'er feet flew up off de bottom uv de
creek, en when I retched out to fetch 'er up, I stepped in a hole; en
'fo' I knowed it, we wuz flounderin' roun' in de watter, en de hymn
dey was singin' on de bank sounded mighty confused-like. En Phillis
she swallowed some watter, en all 't oncet she jes grap me right tight
roun' de neck, en say mighty quick, says she, 'I gwine marry whoever
gits me out'n dis yere watter!'
"En by-en-by, when me en 'er wuz walkin' up de bank o' de creek,
drippin' all over, I says to 'er, says I:
"'Does you 'member what you said back yon'er in de watter, Phillis?'
"'I ain' out'n no watter yit,' says she, ve'y contemptuous.
"'When does, you consider yo'se'f out'n de watter?' says I, ve'y humble.
"'When I git dese soakin' clo'es off'n my back,' says she.
"Hit wuz good dark when we got home, en atter a while I crope up to
de dooh o' Phillis's cabin en put my eye down to de key-hole, en see
Phillis jes settin' 'fo' dem blazin' walnut logs dressed up in 'er new
red linsey dress, en 'er eyes shinin'. En I shuk so I 'mos' faint. Den
I tap easy on de dooh, en say in a mighty tremblin' tone, says I:
"'Is you out'n de watter yit, Phillis?'
"'I got on dry dress,' says she.
"'Does you 'member what you said back yon'er in de watter, Phillis?'
says I.
"'De latch-string on de outside de dooh,' says she, mighty sof'.
"En I walked in."
As Peter drew near the end of this reminiscence, his voice sank to a
key of inimitable tenderness; and when it was ended he stood a few
minutes, scraping the gravel with the toe of his boot, his head dropped
forward. Then he added, huskily:
"Phillis been dead heap o' years now;" and turned away.
This recalling of the scenes of a time long gone by may have awakened
in the breast of the colonel some gentle memory; for after Peter was
gone he continued to sit a while in silent musing. Then getting up, he
walked in the falling twilight across the yard and through the gardens
until he came to a secluded spot in the most distant corner. There he
stooped or rather knelt down and passed his hands, as though with mute
benediction, over a little bed of old-fashioned China pinks. When he
had moved in from the country he had brought nothing away from his
mother's garden but these, and in all the years since no one had ever
pulled them, as Peter well knew; for one day the colonel had said, with
his face turned away:
"Let them have all the flowers they want; but leave the pinks."
He continued kneeling over them now, touching them softly with his
fingers, as though they were the fragrant, never-changing symbols of
voiceless communion with his past. Still it may have been only the
early dew of the evening that glistened on them when he rose and slowly
walked away, leaving the pale moonbeams to haunt the spot.
Certainly after this day he showed increasing concern in the young
lovers who were holding clandestine meetings in his grounds.
"Peter," he would say, "why, if they love each other, don't they get
married? Something may happen."
"I been spectin' some'n' to happ'n fur some time, ez dey been quar'lin'
right smart lately," replied Peter, laughing.
Whether or not he was justified in this prediction, before the end
of another week the colonel read a notice of their elopement and
marriage; and several days later he came up from down-town and told
Peter that everything had been forgiven the young pair, who had gone
to house-keeping in the country. It gave him pleasure to think he had
helped to perpetuate the race of blue-grass farmers.