ON THE REBEL TRAIL
"A stick struck me, mother. But it's nothing serious; merely a
scratch."
Such was John's brief explanation as he entered the dining-room. Mrs.
Hampton asked no questions, but seeing how pale Jess looked, she felt
certain that something out of the ordinary had happened. It did not
take her long to dress the wound, after which the young couple sat down
to their supper.
"You will take Mrs. Grimsby home, will you not, John?" Mrs. Hampton
asked.
"Certainly," was the reply. "You don't mind waiting a while, do you?"
he asked, turning toward the visitor. "I have some chores to do, and
then we will all go for a spin. You will come along too, mother, won't
you?"
"Not this evening, John. I have some work to do. You and Jess go."
"I don't want you to go to any trouble for me," Mrs. Grimsby remarked.
"But I feel that I must get on my way as soon as possible. Gabe may be
home at any minute, and he will be very angry if I am not there when he
comes."
"Don't you worry about Gabe," John assured her. "I shall settle with
him if he makes a fuss when I am there,"
"Oh, but he will wait until you get away, and then he'll begin. He's a
terrible man when he's angry, and he is angry most of the time when
he's home. Be careful about marrying, Miss," and she turned to Jess.
"If you make a mistake and get the wrong man, you might as well put an
end to your life at once. It will be better than slow torture through
the years. I don't blame that poor girl who drowned herself rather
than marry the man she didn't love. You have heard about it, I
suppose. And they haven't found her body yet."
Jess tried not to show any sign of agitation at these words, but her
hands trembled slightly. John noted this, so, pushing back his chair,
he rose from the table.
"You must not judge all men by your husband, Mrs. Grimsby. Gabe is in
a class by himself, and I am sorry for you. Just make yourself as
comfortable as you can here, and I shall hurry up with my work and get
you home as soon as possible."
In about an hour John was ready, and Mrs. Hampton stood at the gate
watching the car as it sped down the road. She was really glad to be
alone, for the events of the afternoon had been of a disturbing nature.
She thought of Hettie and her trials. How astonished the poor woman
would have been had she known the truth about Jess! She went back
again in memory to that night at the hospital almost twenty years ago.
Hettie was a buxom girl then, full of life and animation, not much like
the thin dragged-out creature of to-day. Twenty years! And the two
babies, innocent pawns in the unscrupulous bargain, had again drifted
together as ardent lovers. What would they think if they knew the
truth? In what light would they consider the woman who had taken part
in the transaction? Her mind was in a tumult. She felt that it would
be fatal to tell them. And yet she did want to claim the girl as her
very own, that she might know a real mother's love.
Going back into the house, she took from a drawer the roll of bills
Mrs. Grimsby had given her. She held it in her hand for a few minutes.
It was a part of the money she had paid for silence, and now it had
come back. Hettie's honesty and nobleness of soul touched her deeply.
With the crying needs of a large family how many a woman would have
kept and used the money? What a temptation! Mechanically she counted
the bills--seventy-five dollars. Gabe Grimsby must have been very
drunk when he overlooked such a sum. How great would be his anger when
he found that the money was not in the house upon his return from the
city.
Replacing the roll in the drawer, Mrs. Hampton attended to some
household duties. Then she went out upon the verandah to await the
young people's return. She was glad to lean back in the chair and
rest, for she was tired. The sun had gone down beyond the distant
hills, and the long twilight was slowly waning. It was a beautiful
evening, and the gentle breeze of the afternoon had sunk to rest with
the sun. The smooth surface of the river caught and reflected the
glory of departing day, while the trees along the shore stood clearly
silhouetted against the silent river. There was peace upon water and
land, broken only by the sweet song of a vesper sparrow, and the
tingling of a bell from a distant pasture.
But to the woman sitting alone upon the verandah there was no peace.
Her heart and mind were in a tumult of conflicting emotion. She was
thinking of the girl who had come so unexpectedly into her life and
home. The silence and restraint of long years had at last reached
their climax. A mother's passionate love possessed her soul, and an
intense affection for the child of her womb swept like an overmastering
current through her very being. The girl was hers, she must keep her,
and she was determined that no power on earth should take her from her.
She was suddenly aroused from her reverie by the sound of an auto upon
the road. It drew up and stopped right in front of the gate. A man at
once alighted and walked rapidly toward the house. Mrs. Hampton rose
and met him just as he stepped upon the verandah. The visitor was a
middle-aged man, of overbearing manner. He had not the courtesy to
remove his hat in the presence of the woman, nor to take the big cigar
he was smoking from his mouth. In an instant the thought flashed into
Mrs. Hampton's mind that this was the man who had come to take away her
daughter. She had been dreading his appearance, and now he was before
her.
"I am Henry Randall," the man announced, "and I am looking for my
daughter. Is she here?"
"Your daughter!" Mrs. Hampton replied. "Why are you searching for her
here? Did she not drown herself?"
A heartless laugh broke from the man's lips, as he took the cigar from
his mouth, and flicked off the ashes. He looked piercingly at the
woman as if expecting to see her quail. But Mrs. Hampton's eyes never
flinched for an instant. She was angry at the man's manner of
approach, and when a quiet woman is aroused there is need for caution.
"Why don't you answer my question?" the man asked. "I want to know if
my daughter is here? She didn't drown herself, though she deserves to
be drowned for the way she has acted."
"No, your daughter is not here," Mrs. Hampton quietly replied.
"Not here!" Randall plainly showed his surprise. "Why, I was told that
she came to your house."
"Then you were wrongly informed. Your daughter has never been inside
my house."
"And you have not seen her?"
"No, I have never met her. You will have to search elsewhere."
"That is strange, madame, very strange. Didn't your son bring a girl
here who was injured at the stone quarry?"
"That is quite true, sir. My daughter received a slight injury at the
quarry, and it was she my son brought home."
The man frowned and bit savagely at his cigar.
"Confound it all!" he growled. "What am I to do?"
"Why not go to the quarry," Mrs. Hampton suggested. "You may learn
something there."
"That is the only thing I can do, I suppose," and the man sighed.
"But, by the way, where is your son now? And your daughter, too, for
that matter?"
"They went down the road but a short time ago. Didn't you meet them?
They were in a car."
"We met several cars, but I didn't see anything of your son. I know
him quite well, for let me tell you, madame, he and my daughter are
very fond of each other. I believe that he is the cause of all this
trouble."
"I am surprised to hear you say such a thing, sir. Are you sure that
my son lured your daughter away from home?"
"I am certain of it, and what is more, I intend to push this matter to
the extreme limit of the law. I must see your son. When do you expect
him back?"
"Sometime this evening. But when John and Betty go off in the car it
is hard to tell when they will return. You will have time to go to the
quarry. Most likely they will be home when you get back."
Mrs. Hampton tried to conceal her agitation as she waited to learn how
the man would treat her suggestion. It was her only hope, and she
watched him closely. She felt like a drowning person grasping at a
straw. If she could get this man away, and if John and Jess would soon
return, something yet might be accomplished.
"Well, I suppose I might as well go on to the quarry," Randall growled
as he pulled out his watch. "I expected that my journey would end
here, and by this time I would have that foolish girl safe under my
care. I do not know what is coming over young people these days."
In another minute he was gone, and when the car had disappeared in a
whirl of dust, Mrs. Hampton sank down upon the top step of the verandah
and buried her face in her hands. She was trembling violently, and
felt very weak. The ordeal through which she had just passed had
unnerved her. What was she to do? she asked herself. How was she to
save her child? She lifted her head and listened intently, hoping to
hear the purr of John's car. But no sound greeted her attentive ears,
listen as she might.
Presently she aroused herself and rose quickly to her feet. An idea
had come into her mind which stirred her to activity. Going at once
into the house, she set busily to work both upstairs and down, and in
less than a half hour she had several rolls of blankets and quilts
lying on the hall floor, and two baskets filled with dishes and
provisions. She was standing wondering what else she needed, when she
heard John's quick step upon the verandah.
"Mother," he began, catching sight of her. Then he paused in amazement
when he saw the bundles and baskets lying upon the floor. "What in the
world are you going to do with these?" he asked. "Is anything the
matter?"
In as few words as possible Mrs. Hampton explained the situation, and
the urgency of speedy flight. "We must go to the lake, John, and hide
Jess there. You don't want Mr. Randall to take her away, do you?"
"Indeed I don't," was the emphatic reply. "Oh, mother, it is good of
you to do all this, and help us to keep Jess. We can go at once before
Randall comes back."
Picking up the two bundles, he hurried out of the house, and was back
again in a few minutes for the baskets.
"You lock up, mother," he said. "I will turn the car. We can explain
everything to Jess on the way."
As they sped down the road, Mrs. Hampton explained the reason for their
hurried flight. The girl was greatly pleased, and delighted at the
idea of hiding in the wilderness.
"It is so good of you to help me in my trouble," she replied. "My
father is a determined man, if he once gets his hands on me I shall be
helpless. But suppose he finds out where I am?"
"It is hardly likely. But if he does you can leave everything to me."
For some distance they followed the main highway, and at length turned
off upon a road leading back into the hills. This was little used, so
John had to exercise the greatest care in handling the car. It was
hard enough in day-time, but at night it was extremely difficult. He
had to drive very slowly, and at times branches of trees scraped the
sides of the car.
"This was once called 'The Rebel Trail,'" he explained to Jess after
they had climbed a steeper hill than any they had yet encountered.
"What a funny name!" the girl replied. "How did it get such a name as
that?"
"It was used very often by the Loyalists in the early days as they
travelled overland to the river from a settlement beyond the hills.
The Loyalists, you know, were called rebels by the people in the
country from which they fled. When those who had settled back in the
hills visited the ones along the river, they were often jokingly
greeted by the words 'Oh, you rebels!' and in that way the path through
the woods got its name. Of course, that was long ago, and few people
know about it now. An old man once told me about it, and it always
stuck in my mind."
"I guess the name is very suitable," and Jess sighed. "Another rebel
is travelling over it now, for I am sure that is what my parents and
others think I am."
"A rebel in a worthy cause, dear," Mrs. Hampton comforted. "It matters
very little what people call you when you feel that you have done
right."
"And wouldn't you do the same if you were in my place?" Jess asked.
"Wouldn't you rebel against marrying a man you despised and hated?"
"I certainly should. I would do almost anything rather than marry the
man I disliked."
Further conversation was interrupted by the sudden stopping of the car.
John opened the door and stepped out.
"We are here at last," he explained. "This is where we take the boat.
I shall leave the car here."
It took them but a few minutes to carry their luggage to the lake and
place it on board a small flat-bottomed boat lying upon the shore.
With the women seated astern, John took the oars, and soon they were
out upon the water.
"This is a wonderful adventure," Jess remarked after they had gone a
short distance. "How still and mysterious everything is! I was never
in such a place before."
"I hope you will not get homesick here," Mrs. Hampton replied, at the
same time taking the girl's right hand in hers.
"Not with you near me, Mrs. Hampton. What lovely times we shall have!"
"I hope so, dear," and the elder woman sighed. "But here we are at the
island. You see, it is not far across."
The house on Island Lake was built mostly of logs, and was a cosy
abode. It was comfortably furnished, and a rough fireplace was
situated at one end of the living room. Jess was overjoyed as she
looked around after the lamp had been lighted.
"What a delightful place!" she exclaimed. "I never expected to find
such a house as this so far in the wilderness."
"My dear husband and I used to spend very happy days here," Mrs.
Hampton told her. "I used to keep house while he worked at the mine.
We made very little money, but we were happy, and after all, that is
worth more than gold. When he died, I did not have the heart to
disturb anything, but left the house just as it was. John has looked
after it, and if he had his way he would spend most of his time here."
"And so should I," the girl enthusiastically replied. "I know I shall
be happy here. Oh, I am so glad we have come."
John was happy, too, and as he looked upon the bright, animated face
before him, he longed to live there in the woods the rest of his life,
if only he might have the one who was so dear to him always by his side.