Lucilla and Grace rode out every day on their ponies, always
accompanied by their father, sometimes by Violet also, though the
latter generally preferred a drive in the carriage, taking her
children with her. And Lucilla, being stronger than Grace, would, if
she had occasion, go a second time when it suited her father to go
with her. Chester Dinsmore came often to the house, and sometimes
joined them in their rides; for he was keeping a vigilant watch for
traces of the escaped convict who was known to cherish so great an
enmity to Lucilla.
Chester made no lover-like advances to the girl he so coveted, because
so far he had been unable to win her father's consent, but he was glad
to seize every opportunity to be with her and do his best to make
himself necessary to her happiness. So far she seemed to look upon him
as a pleasant friend, but nothing more; yet he was not altogether
discouraged. He thought her worth long and patiently waiting for and
much effort to win.
One afternoon of a beautiful October day the captain remarked that he
had an errand to the town, and asked who would like to go with him.
"I should like it," said Violet, "but cannot very well, as I am to
have a dress fitted."
"And you, Grace, had so long a ride this morning that you are too
tired for another, I presume?" her father said inquiringly.
"Yes, papa," she said; "though I love to ride with you for my escort,
I believe I am too tired for anything but a rest and nap this
afternoon."
"So, father, I'm afraid you can not secure any better company than
mine," remarked Lucilla with an amused little laugh.
"So it seems," he said. "Well, since I can do no better, I will accept
yours if it be offered me."
"It is, then, sir; and I promise to be ready at any hour you appoint."
"We will start early, shortly after leaving the table, that we may
get home before dark," he said, with a look and smile that seemed to
say her company would be very acceptable.
The roads were good, the horses fresh and lively; and they had a
delightful ride going to Union, and also returning--until near home.
Chester had joined them, and the captain, seeing something in a field
belonging to his estate that he wanted to examine, told the others to
ride on and he would follow very shortly.
They did as he requested, but had not gone more than a hundred yards
when a man suddenly rose from behind a bush, pistol in hand, and
fired, taking aim at Lucilla. But Chester had seized her bridle at the
instant of the rising of the figure, and backed both her horse and his
just in time to escape the shot which whizzed past them over the
horses' heads. Chester instantly snatched a pistol from his pocket,
took aim at the miscreant, and fired at the same instant that the
scoundrel sent a second shot in their direction. Then the wounded
murderer dropped and lay still as death, while Chester dismounted,
reeled, and fell by the roadside--dead, as Lucilla thought in wild
distress. She dismounted and went to him.
"Oh, Chester, Chester, where are you hurt?" she cried in sore
distress.
He seemed to be unconscious, and she did not know whether he was dead
or alive. But the next moment her father was beside her with two or
three of the men employed on the estate.
"Oh, papa, he has died for me!" she cried, hot tears streaming down
her face.
"No, he is not dead, daughter," her father said in tender tones. "But
we will never forget the service he has done us this day."
"No, sah, Mars Chess's alive, sho 'nuff," said one of the men; "an'
we'll git Doctah Arthur or Doctah Harold or Herbert here, and dey'll
cure him up, sho's a gun."
"Yes; go after one of them as fast as you can. Catch Mr. Chester's
horse and ride him; then take him to The Oaks and leave him there. Mr.
Chester must be carried carefully into Woodburn and nursed there--as
long as he needs it. Well, is that fellow living or dead?" he asked
of one of the men who had climbed the fence and was stooping over the
prostrate form of the convict.
"Dead, cap'ain; dead as anything. He won' do no mo' mischief in dis
worl'."
"Poor wretch!" sighed the captain. Then he gave directions to the men
to go to the house and bring from there a cot-bed on which they could
carry the wounded man without increasing his suffering by unnecessary
jolts and jars.
All this time Lucilla was standing by her father's side, trembling and
weeping.
"Oh, papa, I'm afraid he has given his life for mine," she sobbed.
"I hope not, dear child," he said; "he is living, and I hope his wound
will not prove mortal. In saving my daughter's life he has done me a
service that I can never repay, and I hope it is not to cost him his
own life."
At that moment Chester's eyes opened, and Lucilla never forgot the
look of joy and love that he gave her.
"Thank God, you are alive and unhurt," he said, in a low tone and
gasping for breath.
"But, oh, Chester, you are so terribly injured," she sobbed. "I am
afraid you are suffering very much."
"Don't weep. I can bear it," he said.
"My dear fellow, don't try to talk any more now," said the captain. "I
have sent for one or more of our doctors, and here come my men with a
cot-bed to carry you to Woodburn, where you must stay until you are
entirely well."
"You are most kind, captain," murmured the half-fainting young man,
"but----"
"No, no; don't try to talk. I can never repay you for saving my
child," the captain said with emotion.
Chester's only reply was a look at Lucilla that seemed to say that
nothing could be too costly if done for her.
"And, oh, what a debt of gratitude I owe you!" she exclaimed. "I can
never repay it."
"Dearest, I would give my life for yours at any time," he responded.
The words and the look that accompanied them were a revelation to
Lucilla. The look of a moment before had surprised her, and raised a
question in her mind as to just what she was to him; but there was no
mistaking this. He loved her; loved her well enough to die in her
stead.
But the men were at hand with the cot, and under the captain's
direction the wounded man was lifted carefully and tenderly, laid upon
it, and carried to the house, the captain on his horse, and Lucilla on
her pony, following closely.
In the meantime Violet and Christine had made ready a bed in the room
occupied by Captain Raymond at the time of his injury from being
thrown by Thunderer, and there they laid Chester, just as Drs. Arthur
Conly and Harold Travilla arrived, having come with all possible haste
at the summons sent by the captain.
Violet, Lucilla, and Grace, seated on the veranda, anxiously awaited
the doctors' verdict.
It was Harold who brought it at length.
"The wound is a serious one," he said in reply to their looks of
earnest inquiry; "but we have succeeded in removing the ball, and do
not by any means despair of his life."
"Oh, I hope he will recover," sobbed Lucilla; "for if he does not, I
shall always feel that he has given his life for mine."
"But it was through no fault of yours, Lu; you were not in the least
to blame," said Harold soothingly. "And you can pray for his recovery;
we all will. But don't worry and fret; for that will only make you
unhappy and perhaps ill, and do him no good."
"That is good advice, Harold," said her father, who had joined them
just in time to hear it; "worrying about what may happen only unfits
us for present duty, and makes us less able to meet the trouble when
it comes."
"That scoundrel is dead?" Harold said half inquiringly.
"Yes; Chester's shot, fired simultaneously with his, was fatal. He
dropped, and, I think, died almost instantly. Poor wretch! the world
is well rid of him; but what has become of his soul?"
"Oh, I don't believe Chester meant to kill him outright!" exclaimed
Lucilla; "I believe he was only thinking of saving my life."
"And to kill the wretch who was trying to kill you seemed to be the
only way of doing that," said Harold. "But I must go," he added,
rising. "We think we must have a professional nurse for Chester. I
happen to know of one who has just finished an engagement, and I am
going for her at once, if you do not object to having her in the
house, Vi--you or the captain."
Both promptly replied that they would be glad to have her there, and
Harold at once set out upon his errand.
For some days Chester lay half unconscious, and apparently hovering
upon the brink of the grave, while those who loved him watched and
waited in intense anxiety. Then a change came, and the doctors said he
would recover. Lucilla heard it with a burst of weeping that seemed
more like the expression of despair and sorrow than the relief and joy
that really filled her heart.
It was her father who told her the glad news, and they were alone
together in the library. He drew her into his arms and held her close.
"It is altogether glad news, dear child," he said; "Chester is a
Christian and a young man of talent who will lead a useful life, I
think, and it would have been a bitter sorrow to have had him fall a
victim to that worthless, cowardly convict."
"And in my defence," she sobbed. "Oh, papa, it makes my heart ache to
think how he has suffered because of risking his life in the effort to
save mine."
"Yes; I am very grateful to him--so grateful that I feel I can refuse
him nothing that he may ask of me--even though it should be the the
hand of my dear eldest daughter."
She gave him a look of surprise, while her cheek grew hot with
blushes.
"You know that he wants it--that he loves you. He made it very plain
as we stood by him in the road soon after he fell."
"Yes, sir; and I have thought of it very often since. It surprised me
very much, for I had never thought of him as a lover."
"And how is it now?" asked her father, as she paused; "do you care for
him at all? can you give him any return of affection?"
"Papa," she said, hiding her blushing face on his shoulder, and
speaking in so low a tone that he scarcely caught the words, "I seem
to have learned to love him since knowing of his love to me and that
he had almost, if not quite, thrown away his own life to save mine.
But you are not willing that he should tell his love?--not willing to
give me to him, however much he may desire it?"
"I am too grateful to him to refuse him anything he may ask for--even
to the daughter who is so dear to me that I can scarcely bear the
thought of resigning her to another."
"Oh, father, how could I ever endure to be parted from you!" she
cried, clinging more closely to him.
"Dear child," he said, holding her close; "we will make it a condition
that you shall not be taken away to any distance. And, in any event,
you are still too young to leave your father; you must remain single
and live with me for at least a year or two longer."
"Oh, I am glad to hear you say that!" she said. "Papa, has Chester
said anything to you?" she asked.
"Yes; he has several times begged permission to tell you of his love
and try to win yours. I have hitherto refused because of your youth,
but shall now let him have his way."
* * * * *
"You are improving fast, and I hope will soon be able to be up and
about again," the captain said to Chester, a few days later.
"Yes," said the young man, "I begin to feel as if I had taken a new
lease of life and--ah, captain, if I could at last find such favor in
your eyes that you would consent to----" His sentence was left
unfinished.
"To letting you tell your tale of love?" Captain Raymond asked with a
smile.
"Just that, sir. I cannot help fearing it may prove useless,
but--anything is better than suspense; which I feel that I have hardly
strength to endure any longer."
"Nor can I any longer ask that of you, since you have freely risked
your life for hers," returned the captain with emotion. "Your nurse
being out just now, this is a good opportunity, and I will bring my
daughter to you and let you have it out," he concluded in a jesting
tone, and left the room as he spoke.
Lucilla happened to be near at hand, and almost immediately her
father had brought her to Chester's bedside. She knew nothing of the
talk that had been going on, yet, remembering her conversation with
her father a few days before, came to the bedside blushing and
slightly embarrassed.
"I am very glad you are better, Chester," she said, laying her hand in
his as he held it out to her. "What a hard, hard time you have had,
and all because you risked your life to save mine."
"I'm not sorry I did, and would do it again without a moment's
hesitation," he said. "Oh, Lu, if I could but tell you how dear you
are to me! Can you not give me a little love in return?"
"Oh, Chester, how could I help it, when you have almost died for me?"
she asked, bursting into tears.
"Don't be distressed over that, dear one," he returned, pressing the
hand he still held in his, then lifting it to his lips. "Will you be
mine?" he asked imploringly.
"If papa consents, and you will never take me far away from him."
"He has consented, and I will never take you anywhere that you do not
want to go. We will live here among our own dear ones as long as the
Lord spares us to each other."
As he finished he drew her down to him, and their lips met.
"We belong to each other now," he said, "and I hope both of us will
always rejoice that it is so."
"I hope you will, my dear children," said the captain. "And now,
Chester, get well as fast as you can. I cannot give Lucilla up
entirely to you for a year or more yet, but you can visit her here
every day if you like."
So the young couple were engaged, and very happy in each other,
Chester making rapid improvement in health from the hour when he was
assured of the prosperity of his suit.
The betrothal was soon made known to all the connection, and seemed to
give satisfaction to everyone. Sydney had gone South before Chester's
encounter with the escaped convict, and she and Maud wrote their
congratulations. Frank was pleased, and came oftener than before to
Woodburn. Lucilla's bosom friend, Evelyn, approved of the match, and
hoped Lu would be a happy wife, but thought she herself would prefer
to live single. Grace was half-pleased, half-sorry because she did not
seem quite so necessary to her sister's happiness as before.
Captain Raymond did not at all enjoy the thought of even a partial
giving up of his daughter to the care of another, but tried to forget
that the time was coming when it must be done. That Max was expected
home in a few weeks made that difficult task somewhat easier. All were
looking joyfully forward to that happy event.
THE END.
A LIST OF THE ELSIE BOOKS AND OTHER POPULAR BOOKS
BY
MARTHA FINLEY
_ELSIE DINSMORE._
_ELSIE'S HOLIDAYS AT ROSELANDS._
_ELSIE'S GIRLHOOD._
_ELSIE'S WOMANHOOD._
_ELSIE'S MOTHERHOOD._
_ELSIE'S CHILDREN._
_ELSIE'S WIDOWHOOD._
_GRANDMOTHER ELSIE._
_ELSIE'S NEW RELATIONS._
_ELSIE AT NANTUCKET._
_THE TWO ELSIES._
_ELSIE'S KITH AND KIN._
_ELSIE'S FRIENDS AT WOODBURN._
_CHRISTMAS WITH GRANDMA ELSIE._
_ELSIE AND THE RAYMONDS._
_ELSIE YACHTING WITH THE RAYMONDS._
_ELSIE'S VACATION._
_ELSIE AT VIAMEDE._
_ELSIE AT ION._
_ELSIE AT THE WORLD'S FAIR._
_ELSIE'S JOURNEY ON INLAND WATERS._
_ELSIE AT HOME._
_ELSIE ON THE HUDSON._
_ELSIE IN THE SOUTH._
_ELSIE'S YOUNG FOLKS._
_MILDRED KEITH._
_MILDRED AT ROSELANDS._
_MILDRED'S MARRIED LIFE._
_MILDRED AND ELSIE._
_MILDRED AT HOME._
_MILDRED'S BOYS AND GIRLS._
_MILDRED'S NEW DAUGHTER._
_CASELLA._
_SIGNING THE CONTRACT AND WHAT IT COST._
_THE TRAGEDY OF WILD RIVER VALLEY._
_OUR FRED._
_AN OLD-FASHIONED BOY._
_WANTED, A PEDIGREE._
_THE THORN IN THE NEST._