FRAN
BY JOHN BRECKENRIDGE ELLIS
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY
W. B. KING
TO
MY MOTHER
CONTENTS
I A KNOCK AT THE DOOR.
II A DISTURBING LAUGH.
III ON THE FOOT-BRIDGE.
IV THE WOMAN WHO WAS NOT MRS. GREGORY.
V WE REAP WHAT WE SOW.
VI MRS. GREGORY.
VII A FAMILY CONFERENCE.
VIII WAR DECLARED.
IX SKIRMISHING.
X AN AMBUSCADE.
XI THE NEW BRIDGE AT MIDNIGHT.
XII GRACE CAPTURES THE OUTPOSTS.
XIII ALLIANCE WITH ABBOTT.
XIV FIGHTING FOR HER LIFE.
XV IN SURE-ENOUGH COUNTRY.
XVI A TAMER OF LIONS.
XVII SHALL THE SECRET BE TOLD?
XVIII JUST THIRTY MINUTES.
XIX THE FIRST VICTORY.
XX THE ENEMY TRIUMPHS.
XXI FLIGHT.
XXII THE STREET FAIR.
XXIII THE CONQUEROR.
XXIV NEAR THE SKY.
CHAPTER I
A KNOCK AT THE DOOR
Fran knocked at the front door. It was too dark for her to find the
bell; however, had she found it, she would have knocked just the same.
At first, no one answered. That was not surprising, since everybody
was supposed to be at the Union Camp-meeting that had been advertised
for the last two months. Of course it was not beyond possibility that
some one might have stayed at home to invite his soul instead of
getting it saved; but that any one in Littleburg should go visiting at
half-past eight, and especially that any one should come knocking at
the door of this particular house, was almost incredible.
No doubt that is why the young woman who finally opened the door--
after Fran had subjected it to a second and more prolonged visitation
of her small fist--looked at the stranger with surprise which was, in
itself, reproof. Standing in the dim light that reached the porch from
the hall, Fran's appearance was not above suspicion. She looked very
dark, sharp-faced, and small. Her attitude suggested one who wanted
something and had come to ask for it. The lady in the doorway believed
herself confronted by a "camper"--one of those flitting birds of outer
darkness who have no religion of their own, but who are always putting
that of others to the proof.
The voice from the doorway was cool, impersonal, as if, by its very
aloofness, it would push the wanderer away: "What do you want?"
"I want Hamilton Gregory," Fran answered promptly, without the
slightest trace of embarrassment. "I'm told he lives here."
"_Mr._ Gregory"--offering the name with its title as a palpable
rebuke--"lives here, but is not at home. What do you want, little
girl?"
"Where is he?" Fran asked, undaunted.
At first the young woman was tempted to close the door upon the
impudent gaze that never faltered in watching her, but those bright
unwavering eyes, gleaming out of the gloom of straw hat and
overshadowing hair, compelled recognition of some sort.
"He is at the camp-meeting," she answered reluctantly, irritated at
opposition, and displeased with herself for being irritated. "What do
you want with him? I will attend to whatever it is. I am acquainted
with all of his affairs--I am his secretary."
"Where is that camp-meeting? How can I find the place?" was Fran's
quick rejoinder. She could not explain the dislike rising within her.
She was too young, herself, to consider the other's youth an
advantage, but the beauty of the imperious woman in the doorway--why
did it not stir her admiration?
Mr. Gregory's secretary reflected that, despite its seeming
improbability, it might be important for him to see this queer
creature who came to strange doors at night-time.
"If you will go straight down that road"--she pointed--"and keep on
for about a mile and a half, you will come to the big tent. Mr.
Gregory will be in the tent, leading the choir."
"All right." And turning her back on the door, Fran swiftly gained the
front steps. Half-way down, she paused, and glanced over her thin
shoulder. Standing thus, nothing was to be seen of her but a blurred
outline, and the shining of her eyes.
"I guess," said Fran inscrutably, "you're not Mrs. Gregory."
"No," came the answer, with an almost imperceptible change of manner--
a change as of gradual petrifaction, "I am not Mrs. Gregory." And with
that the lady, who was not Mrs. Gregory, quietly but forcibly closed
the door.
It was as if, with the closing of that door, she would have shut Fran
out of her life.