{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_67145/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_67145","id":"gutenberg_67145","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/67145","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Historical Novels","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Novels","Delaware Indians -- Fiction","Historical fiction","Rondout Valley (N.Y.) -- Fiction"],"text":"OLD NINETY-NINE\u2019S CAVE\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n                        Page\n\n  Illustrations          vii\n  Introduction            ix\n  Chapter         I        1\n  Chapter        II       11\n  Chapter       III       26\n  Chapter        IV       49\n  Chapter         V       97\n  Chapter        VI      107\n  Chapter       VII      116\n  Chapter      VIII      124\n  Chapter        IX      157\n  Chapter         X      164\n  Chapter        XI      193\n  Chapter       XII      212\n  Chapter      XIII      246\n  Chapter       XIV      270\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: Reuben]\n\n\n\n\nOLD NINETY-NINE\u2019S CAVE\n\n  BY\n  ELIZABETH H. GRAY\n\n  [Illustration: Le Succ\u00e8s est un Devoir\n                 CMC Pub. Co.\n                 MCM]\n\n  THE C. M. CLARK PUBLISHING CO.\n  BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS\n  1909\n\n\n\n\n  Copyright, 1909\n  by\n  The C. M. Clark Publishing Co.\n  Boston, Massachusetts\n  U. S. A.\n\n  All Rights Reserved\n\n  PRESS OF MURRAY AND EMERY COMPANY\n  BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS\n\n\n\n\n  _DEDICATED\n  To the loving memory of my Father and in grateful\n  recognition to my friend J. F. C., whose\n  encouragement made this book possible._\n\n\n\n\nILLUSTRATIONS\n\n  Reuben                                  _Frontispiece_\n\n                                                  _Page_\n\n  Margaret                                           61\n\n  Into this den of venomous serpents, only the\n    hardy dared penetrate                           149\n\n  Tim Watson                                        170\n\n  Jack De Vere                                      194\n\n  Beyond the hills melting into a pinkish haze      206\n\n  Canal boats still crept sleepily on               248\n\n  Sam\u2019s Point                                       255\n\n  The Rondout Creek tumbled musically over\n    the rocks below forming many beautiful\n    cascades                                        292\n\n  The laurels take on a rosier hue in the warm\n    afterglow                                       308\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\n\nTourists in the Shawangunk region are unanimous in pronouncing it\none of the most beautiful spots east of the Mississippi, and in some\nrespects unique on this continent. Mokonk and Minnewaska need no eulogy\nfrom any pen, Sam\u2019s Point tells its own story, while the entire Rondout\nValley has a charm of its own.\n\nIt has been the author\u2019s good fortune to have access to old books and\npapers relating to the local tradition of \u201cOld Ninety-Nine.\u201d He is said\nto have been the last of the Delawares in the Rondout Valley, and,\nexcepting his death, on which tradition is silent, the account given is\nthe one generally told.\n\nThe house of Benny De Puy is still standing and the \u201cvery spring from\nwhich old Ninety-Nine drank on his way to and from his cave\u201d yet gushes\nout not far from the door.\n\nThe photographs of Sam\u2019s Point and Margaret are by V. T. Wright. That\nof Reuben and others used are by A. V. Turner.\n\nThe author feels indebted to \u201cThe Four Track News and Travel Magazine\u201d\nfor courteous permission to reprint parts of two articles by herself\nthat were published by them.\n\n\n\n\nOld Ninety-Nine\u2019s Cave\n\nCHAPTER I\n\n\nThe Shawangunk Mountains extend from near the center of Ulster County\nto the southwestern corner in an almost unbroken chain. The Catskills\nare in the northeastern part and between these two ranges is the\nRondout Valley, which extends from the Delaware to the Hudson River,\naveraging in width about three miles.\n\nShawangunk is an Indian word meaning \u201cGreat Wall,\u201d and the range\nseparates the Wallkill from this beautiful valley. Here flourish the\ntrailing arbutus, azalea and laurel, and in July that glory of our\ncontinent--the American rhododendron--is found in perfection.\n\nHistory and tradition have added charm to the natural beauty of this\nregion, and every lake and mountain-pass has its legends.\n\nEarly settlers were Dutch, and French Huguenots who found the\ncountry disputed by different tribes of the Delawares. Those\nliving in Ulster County were called the Esopus Indians, and their\nhunting-grounds embraced the territory between the Highlands on the\nsouth, Tendeyackemick on the north, the Hudson on the east, and the\nhead waters of the Delaware on the west. They were, however, divided\ninto clans which generally took the name of the place where they lived:\nthus those on the east side of the Shawangunk Mountains were called\n\u201cWaconawankongs\u201d and those on the west were called \u201cWawarsings,\u201d\n\u201cMinisinks\u201d and \u201cMamakatings.\u201d Originally they were a portion of the\nMinqua or Delawares, who always claimed a protectorate over them and\nwith whom they merged when driven westward by the settlements of the\nwhites.\n\nIn the heart of this valley and nestling close to the base of Point\nWawanda lay Nootwyck, a quaint little village and seemingly part of its\nsurroundings. Huguenot Street intersected the village, running from\neast to west towards the mountain, and extended part way up its side.\n\nIt was in December, 1878, that John De Vere hurried up this street\ntowards the home whose welcome lights glimmered through the falling\nsnow; even the gaunt Lombardy poplars which lined the street were\nattractive in their soft mantle of white. At the extreme end of the\nstreet he turned into his grounds and ascended to the house by the\nwinding road which led up to it. Being a scholarly man and an admirer\nof the Greek style of architecture, his house had been made to conform\nas nearly as possible to it. The broad piazza which extended around\nthree sides commanded a fine view of the valley.\n\nSpringing up the broad steps, Mr. De Vere was soon in the midst of his\nfamily, who were seated at the supper-table. The family consisted of\nhis mother, wife, and four children: Jack, a handsome young fellow of\ntwenty-two; Celeste, a girl of twenty; Eletheer, sixteen; and Cornelia,\nsix. Reuben and Margaret, the two blacks who served them, were husband\nand wife.\n\n\u201cUgh!\u201d said Mr. De Vere, \u201ca bitter night and this snow added to what\nis already on the ground will make a heavy body of it.\u201d\n\n\u201cI think the temperature is moderating,\u201d said his mother, \u201cand the snow\nwill probably turn to rain.\u201d\n\n\u201cFather,\u201d said Jack, \u201cMr. Valentine Mills called at the office to-day.\nHe seemed anxious to see you.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat can he want in the country at this season of the year?\u201d returned\nhis father.\n\n\u201cHe said something about wishing to purchase your mining claim and\nerecting a sanitarium on Point Wawanda; he showed me his plans and I\ntell you the structure would be an ornament.\u201d\n\n\u201cO, don\u2019t sell it!\u201d protested Eletheer, \u201cyou know that is to be the\nsite of my hospital.\u201d\n\n\u201cJohn, I don\u2019t like that man\u2019s looks and would have as little dealing\nas possible with him.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, mother, he seems very much of a gentleman.\u201d\n\n\u201cNevertheless, I mistrust him.\u201d\n\nMrs. De Vere, or \u201cGranny,\u201d was a woman of positive ideas and, in her\nyounger days, of great executive ability. A strict Calvinist, she had\naccepted the doctrines of her church as ultimate truth beyond which\nthere was no cause for investigation; these questions had been settled\nfor all time and those who differed from her were either deluded or\nwilfully in error. She never obtruded her religious beliefs on others,\nbut, when asked, always gave them in a remarkably direct manner, which\nprecluded all argument.\n\nAfter supper she retired early, accompanied by Eletheer whose\nself-imposed duty it was to see her comfortably tucked in bed and then\nread her to sleep from her beloved Bible. Mr. and Mrs. De Vere went\nto the library where a bright fire crackled on the hearth, scenting\nthe room with birch. Throwing himself on a couch, Mr. De Vere with a\ndeep sigh said: \u201cYou know the mortgage on this place comes due January\nfirst, and probably Mills wants his money. I can\u2019t blame him either for\nNootwyck is dead. One enterprise after another falls through for want\nof railway communication. Look at the iron mine, the blast-furnace and\nthe rolling-mill. They cannot compete with like industries elsewhere\nand consequently fail.\u201d\n\n\u201cThis town is bonded for the railroad and we are entitled to have it\nextended through to Kingston,\u201d his wife said.\n\n\u201cThe business men of Elmdale do not want this extension, and I fear\nthey have played a winning game.\u201d\n\nA loud ring at the door announced the arrival of some one, and who\nshould Reuben usher in but Mr. Mills himself.\n\n\u201cGood evening, Mr. Mills,\u201d said Mr. De Vere cordially. \u201cStormy night.\u201d\n\nDivesting himself of overcoat and rubbers, Mr. Mills entered the\nlibrary and shook hands graciously with both.\n\nHe was tall and spare, of about fifty-five, and his manner was that of\na man of the world; but his unsteady glance never met one\u2019s frankly and\nhis movements were restless.\n\nReuben brought in a tray on which were a plate of crullers and some\ncider and while they were sipping it, he replenished the fire.\n\n\u201cWhere did you get that treasure?\u201d inquired Mills after Reuben left the\nroom.\n\n\u201cHe was a porter in the college at Vicksburg, Mississippi, when I\noccupied the Chair of Ancient Languages there. He became enamored of\nMrs. De Vere\u2019s maid, Margaret, and begged me to buy him, which I did.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf not an impertinent question, may I ask what you paid for him?\u201d\n\n\u201cCertainly. I gave one thousand dollars for him. He is not an ignorant\nman, as you can see.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow did he get his education?\u201d\n\n\u201cI taught him and he still studies every spare moment of his time.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour life has been an eventful one,\u201d said Mills interestedly.\n\n\u201cMrs. De Vere\u2019s has,\u201d her husband returned soberly. \u201cJack told me that\nyou were at the office to-day.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, I wanted to see you on some business connected with your mountain\npreserve.\u201d\n\nFor some inexplicable reason, Granny at this juncture entered the\nroom, leaning on Eletheer. Mills sprang to offer her a chair, and as\nsoon as she was seated Eletheer left the room.\n\n\u201cA charming family, De Vere,\u201d said Mills.\n\n\u201cA God-fearing one,\u201d returned Granny, \u201call except Eletheer have\naccepted the Word of God, which is cause for great thankfulness.\u201d\n\n\u201cGod is good. His ways are inscrutable. Let us trust that the remaining\nlamb may be received into the fold,\u201d said Mills reverently.\n\n\u201cShe is a good child, but wilfully in error, I fear,\u201d replied the old\nlady wiping her glasses. \u201cCornelia is a true De Vere and even at her\nage the family traits are pronounced in her.\u201d Mills moved uneasily.\n\n\u201cWe were discussing Mr. De Vere\u2019s preserve on the mountain back of this\nhouse,\u201d he remarked. \u201cI should like to erect a sanitarium on it.\u201d\n\n\u201cEletheer has set her heart on that mining claim, and I think she ought\nto have it,\u201d said her grandmother.\n\n\u201cAs a mining claim, it is worthless. Experts say that gold is there but\nnot in sufficient quantities to pay for mining. Instead of chasing a\nphantom, would it not be better to erect an institution where the sick\nand suffering may be benefited by the medicinal springs and balsamic\nair of these mountains?\u201d Mills replied.\n\n\u201cThat is just what she proposes doing.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut it takes money,\u201d he answered with a sinister smile which no one\nsaw. \u201cSeveral charitable New York men are interested in the scheme and\nwish to negotiate through me for the purchase.\u201d\n\nThe old lady was momentarily won and Mills, seeing his advantage,\ncontinued: \u201cThe company wish to begin operations as soon as possible.\nThat is what brings me into the country at this season of the year.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d said Mr. De Vere, \u201cthere are reasons which must be carefully\nweighed before deciding, and I will let you know my decision within a\nweek.\u201d\n\nSeeing that Mr. De Vere was determined and that nothing would be\ngained by prolonging the interview, Mills was obliged to be content and\nsoon after left, fully convinced that his mission was accomplished.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\n\nJohn de Vere was born on a farm at Greenmeadow, New York. His\ngrandfather, Benoni De Vere, came from Tarrytown to Greenmeadow in 1796\nand was the first settler there.\n\nJohn\u2019s father was a representative of the sturdy men of those stirring\ntimes and his mother was a woman of great strength of character. Nine\nchildren were reared in a veritable wilderness and their destinies were\ngoverned by the restrictions of the times. Six days of the week were\nspent in hard labor on the farm and the seventh lived in John\u2019s memory\nas a horrible dream. On this day, winter and summer, instead of five\nthey arose at six o\u2019clock. Milking and breakfast over, the whole family\nrepaired to the parlor for family prayers, which ceremony lasted an\nhour. They then hurried off to church where for two mortal hours the\ngood dominie preached Calvinism unabridged. Woe to the culprit who\nfidgeted or betrayed any lack of interest, and John sat on those hard\nseats without moving a muscle until his bones ached.\n\nRelatives and friends usually dined with them on Sunday and the\nchildren \u201cwaited.\u201d After the sermon in all its bearings had been\ndiscussed, the sweetmeats and tea--which appeared on company days--were\nsparingly dealt out to the children and they took what else remained on\nthe table, John inwardly vowing that when he grew up, he would have all\nthe sweetmeats and tea he wanted.\n\nPilgrim\u2019s Progress, Baxter\u2019s Saints Everlasting Rest, Fox\u2019s Book of\nMartyrs and the Bible were the only books allowed, and a funereal\natmosphere pervaded everything. When the guests left and the chores\nwere done, the children went to bed thankful for the Sunday less.\n\nNaturally a student, John worked hard, saved his money, studied every\nspare moment of his time and eventually was graduated with honors\nfrom Union College; then, broken in health, he went South to accept\nthe Chair of Ancient Languages at Vicksburg College, Vicksburg,\nMississippi, where he met and married Miss Bessie Ragsdale, a beautiful\nsouthern girl and an heiress; meantime pursuing the study of law and\nwas admitted to the bar of that State two years after his arrival there.\n\nIn the sunny South on the bank of \u201cThe Father of Waters,\u201d their life\nwas a poet\u2019s dream, \u201cWhere the sweet magnolia blossoms grew as white as\nsnow, and they never thought that sorrow, grief nor pain would come.\u201d\nTrue, there were mutterings of war, but none believed they would amount\nto anything, and when the firing on Fort Sumpter was heralded abroad\npeople said it would be a short war. After the secession of Mississippi\nand the formal election of Jefferson Davis as President of the Southern\nConfederacy, the defeat of Commodore Montgomery at Memphis, its\noccupation by the Union forces, and the concentration of forces upon\nVicksburg, they knew then that war in all its horrors was upon them.\nThis last Confederate stronghold on the Mississippi which had refused\nto surrender to Farragut\u2019s fleet was strongly fortified. General\nGrant\u2019s attempt to change the channel of the river, leaving Vicksburg\nsome distance back, had failed, and the people were still confident\nuntil he attacked them from the rear. The railroads were destroyed and\nfor six weeks the city was cannonaded unceasingly night and day. The\nsiege of Vicksburg was John De Vere\u2019s last picture of Mississippi; the\ncity battered to pieces, the streets red with blood, two gallant young\nConfederate officers shot dead at his door, his home in ruins.\n\nHearing that he was about to be pressed into the Southern Army, he\nmanaged, through the influence of his wife\u2019s family, to get on board\na boat bound for St. Louis, taking what little money he could scrape\ntogether. His wife and children with the faithful Reuben and Margaret\njoined him the next morning and they started for the last-named city\nwhere he hoped to earn enough to take him North.\n\nWill he ever forget that sail up the mighty stream so full of snags and\ntimber from the far North? That river which has played so important\na part in the destiny of our nation? In 1542, its muddy waters\nreceived the fever-racked body of its discoverer. Down this stream\ncame Marquette with his devoted Canadian followers in their birch-bark\ncanoes, \u201cready to seek new nations towards the South Sea who are still\nunknown to us, and to teach them of our God.\u201d LaSalle, Iberville,\nBienville and many others floated before his mental vision. The levees,\nwhich were built before each river plantation by the owners\u2019 slaves,\nwere simply artificial mud-banks sometimes strengthened by ribs of\ntimber and sometimes not. These answered very well so long as kept in\nrepair. An unusual flood, of course, was apt to destroy them, but slave\nlabor was cheap. Mr. De Vere noted with dismay their present neglected\ncondition. The largest and most substantial was the one over Yazoo\nPass twelve miles above Vicksburg; but this was in bad shape, and he\npictured the wholesale destruction which would follow the inevitable\nspring flood, and the dank pools left by the receding waters, filling\nthe air with deadly miasma.\n\nOn the fourth day of their journey they reached St. Louis. Mr. McElwee,\na member of the \u201cChristian Commission,\u201d which did such noble work in\nthe armies, offered them the shelter of his home until work could be\nfound and they gratefully accepted his offer. He used his influence\nand one day Thomas Murphy from a settlement near Lake Crevec\u0153ur, about\nthirteen miles west of St. Louis, offered Mr. De Vere the position of\nteacher in their school at a salary of fifty dollars per month and\nthe use of a log house belonging to him. Autumn found them installed\nin their new quarters. Mrs. De Vere, accustomed to every luxury, yet\naccepted her lot uncomplainingly; and with the assistance of Reuben\nand Margaret the rude house was made to appear quite home-like. It\nconsisted of two rooms, a living-room and a sleeping-room. Mr. and Mrs.\nDe Vere and the children occupied the latter, and all that the bed\nwould not hold were stored away on the floor. Reuben and Margaret slept\non the floor of the living-room.\n\nTime passed more quickly than they feared it would. Christmas came\nand went, but Mr. De Vere\u2019s step was not so springy as formerly. His\nhead ached continually and memory failed. All night long he tossed and\nmoaned but stern duty demanded his services and when morning came he\nsought the school-house tired in mind and body. No butter nor milk;\ncoarse corn bread, sweet potatoes and pork constituted their daily\nfare, but no one complained. Coffee at twenty dollars a pound was not\nto be thought of and they all declared corn coffee delicious.\n\nOne morning immediately after school was called and the arithmetic\nclass was on the floor, for no apparent reason, Mr. De Vere dismissed\nthem. This he did three times in succession, and each time a general\ntitter went round. Suddenly Elisha Vedder, a great lubberly fellow,\nrose to his feet and in a ringing voice said, \u201cShame, you cowards!\nDon\u2019t you see that our teacher is a sick man?\u201d Then going up to Mr. De\nVere, he said: \u201cMr. De Vere, your wife is not very well and wants you\nto come home with me, and George Murphy will bring the doctor\u201d; at the\nsame time putting on his own and his teacher\u2019s hat. Mr. De Vere leaned\nheavily upon him, and when they reached the house he fell on the bed,\ntoo sick to undress. No doctor lived nearer than St. Louis, but George\nMurphy on Elisha\u2019s mare was flying like the wind after one, and by\nevening, when the doctor arrived, Mr. De Vere was raving in delirium.\nAfter a short examination and a few intelligent questions, Dr. Hoff,\nthe physician summoned, took Mrs. De Vere aside and said, \u201cI need not\nquestion further, the diagnosis is clear. It is typhoid and about the\nend of the second week. An ordinary man would have added to his chances\nfor recovery by having spent the time in bed. Though a very sick man, I\ntrust that we may be able to pull him through. Who is to help you?\u201d\n\nReuben, who had been stationed near his master\u2019s bed, caught the last\nwords and exclaimed, \u201cWho but me, Massa?\u201d\n\nEyeing him critically, the doctor said: \u201cEver had any experience in\nfevers?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, Massa. Yaller Jack, break bone, intermittent, remittent,\ncongestive, typhoid, small pox--\u201d\n\n\u201cI reckon you have then,\u201d returned the doctor. \u201cWhere were you raised?\u201d\n\n\u201cNew Orleans, Massa.\u201d\n\n\u201cEver worked in the charity hospital there?\u201d\n\n\u201cLaw me, Massa, I has so!\u201d\n\nDoctor Hoff looked satisfied, and after giving careful directions left,\npromising to come the next day.\n\nNeedless to dwell on the anxious weeks to follow. Reuben never left\nhis post, faithfully recording every symptom even when others would\ngladly have relieved him. His black lips were almost constantly moving\nin prayer and who shall say that they did not penetrate to the \u201cThrone\nof Grace.\u201d At last the change came and when Doctor Hoff paid his next\nvisit, he grasped those black hands and in a tone of profound respect\nsaid: \u201cReuben, your master will live and you, not I, have saved his\nlife.\u201d\n\nFalling on his knees, Reuben poured forth his soul in an earnest\nprayer. Unconsciously, the doctor knelt beside him, bowing his head\non those faithful black shoulders, and the man of science and the\ndescendant of Ham were one in the presence of their Maker. A silence as\nof death followed and then a voice low and sweet, but trembling with\nemotion, came from the doorway:\n\n  \u201cOn Christ, the solid rock, I stand,\n   All other ground is sinking sand.\u201d\n\nThe dim morning light, with the stars still twinkling in the heavens,\nthe rude log house in a strange country,--the picture is not soon\nforgotten.\n\nHow the tedious weeks of convalescence were brightened by those honest\npeople. They could not do enough and blamed themselves for former\nneglect. Delicacies from down the river came by the basketful; fruits\nfrom New Orleans, fresh vegetables, tender chickens and everything\nwhich kind hearts could suggest and ingenuity procure. Elisha Vedder\nwas untiring and his horse always at their disposal.\n\nLetters from Greenmeadow contained sad news. Mr. De Vere\u2019s brother had\nbeen severely wounded in the battle of Gettysburg and many dear to him\nwere fighting for their country. His mother could not become reconciled\nto the fact that her son had married what she termed a \u201cCreole.\u201d\n\nIt was April now and although Mr. De Vere had not taught school since\nFebruary, the kind people of Crevec\u0153ur insisted on paying his salary,\nand the family were preparing to leave for the North. At Nootwyck, New\nYork, was a good opening for a lawyer, and Andrew Genung, president of\nthe savings bank there, had written him urging him to come; and only\ntoo glad to do so, Mr. De Vere answered saying that he would start\nin April. Now that the time had come to say good-bye to these more\nthan friends, his heart failed him. Doctor Hoff and Elisha Vedder had\nparticularly endeared themselves to him and though neither of them\nwould accept a cent of remuneration, he exacted a promise that if he\ncould ever serve them in any way, they would let him know.\n\nThe morning they left, the whole neighborhood assembled to see them\noff. Mrs. Murphy had provided a generous lunch-basket and her eyes were\nred with weeping. Mr. Murphy clumsily concealed his sorrow and Elisha\nVedder was nowhere to be seen, but Reuben\u2019s diligent search disclosed\nhim behind the house, shaking with ill-suppressed emotion.\n\n\u201cNow, Massa \u2019Lish, don\u2019t give way to idle grief. Jes\u2019 run along and\nsaddle Jinnie. Massa Murphy wants you to lead the way.\u201d\n\nElisha obeyed willingly, and after a tearful parting and promises to\nwrite often, they were off. No one seemed inclined to talk. Nothing\nbut the rolling Missouri broke the stillness. Their way led along its\nbanks and in sight of Lake Crevec\u0153ur, and the mocking-bird\u2019s voice\nwas heard imitating first one bird and then another. Just as they were\nleaving the lake behind them, Mr. De Vere turned for a last look and\nsaid, \u201cFarewell to Crevec\u0153ur! No more does that word to me mean \u2018broken\nheart,\u2019 but \u2018grateful heart.\u2019\u201d\n\nA little after noon they reached St. Louis where they were met by\nDoctor Hoff, and after again and again thanking him for all his\nkindness, the De Veres said good-bye to Missouri and soon were speeding\nnorthward.\n\nMr. De Vere\u2019s brother-in-law, Peter Brown, met them at a hamlet west\nof the Shawangunks which they had crossed by stage from Middleburgh,\nbundled them into his great wagon, cracked his whip over his horses\u2019\nheads and in a little over an hour set them down at his home in\nGreenmeadow. Oh, that welcome home! Can words describe it? Dear old\nmother, with her silver hair, forgot all differences and the welcome\naccorded her \u2018baby\u2019s\u2019 wife made Bessie feel that she was one of them in\nvery truth.\n\nPeter Brown was a generous provider, but to-day his table groaned\nunder its weight of good things. Such deliciously sweet white bread\nand butter, steaming roast chickens, cranberries; and with appetites\nwhetted by their ride over the hills, the hungry wayfarers did ample\njustice to everything.\n\nBessie\u2019s sweet ways won the love of all, and when John told that, but\nfor her, his heart many times would have failed, how she had lost\neverything and used all her influence to prevent his being forced into\nthe Confederate service, their glowing eyes expressed the welcome\naddition she was.\n\nThe children were duly admired and all points of resemblance settled.\nJohn De Vere\u2019s mother positively detested negroes, regarding them\nas all alike, and as a race of filthy, lying, lazy thieves. This\ncondition, of course, was due to the system of slavery, but Reuben and\nMargaret\u2019s devotion was regarded by her as a special dispensation of\nProvidence and her heart went out to them.\n\nAnxious to be up and doing, John De Vere made arrangements to begin\nat once in his new field of labor, and another month found them\ncomfortably settled at Nootwyck. It was a fortunate time. The village\nwas being boomed by \u201cThe Consolidated Iron-Mining Company\u201d which\nemployed several hundred men. The town had been bonded for the Valley\nRailroad and the route surveyed. Prospects were good, for with this\nvalley opened up to the outside world, its wonderful resources would be\ndeveloped.\n\nBut oh, the uncertainty of human plans! Fifteen years had passed;\nthe iron mine had long since shut down; the coal mine was unsteady\nand the Valley Railroad, after tunneling the mountain, penetrated to\nElmdale--a short distance south of Nootwyck--and stopped. People along\nthe promised line were powerless, and with the apathy born of repeated\ndisappointments, they submitted to the inevitable.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\n\nDuring the night our story opens, the snow turned to rain; a\nwarm, steady downpour, which continued for three days in a manner\nunparalleled in the annals of the town. On the third day, the scene\nfrom the \u201cLaurels,\u201d as the De Vere place had been named, was one of\nwholesale destruction. The heavy body of snow which had lain on the\nground had melted and added its water to help swell the streams. The\nRondout Creek was a raging torrent, filled with logs, trees, cakes of\nice and portions of houses. The Delaware and Hudson Canal, from which\nthe water had been drawn at the close of the previous boating season,\nwas full of water and now formed part of the creek. In places the\ntow-path was completely covered and canal boats, loosened from their\nfastenings, drifted over the valley. The flats were one vast expanse\nof water, and lock-keepers had fled from their homes along the canal,\nthankful to escape with their lives. The roar was tremendous! Gurgling\nmountain brooks had been converted into rivers which rushed madly down\nto mingle their waters with the seething flood below.\n\nThe De Veres stood on a point of rock which projected out from their\ngrounds. It was still raining, but from under their umbrellas they\nlooked sadly on the work of destruction yet in progress. So absorbed\nwere they that the approach of two gentlemen on horseback was unheeded\nuntil the elder of the two shouted, \u201cHello, there!\u201d\n\nThey all turned quickly and at Mr. De Vere\u2019s invitation Mr. Andrew\nGenung, followed by a young man, dismounted at the gate and joined them.\n\nAndrew Genung was not generally liked. By many he was considered an\naristocratic bigot. He never forgave an injury, nor forgot a kindness.\nA stern, uncompromising man, his life was governed by certain fixed\nrules of conduct which, in his estimation, were the only ones. But his\nword was as good as his bond, and the friendship which existed between\nhim and De Vere stood the test of years.\n\nThe young man was presented as his nephew, Hernando Genung, from Nevada.\n\nCeleste\u2019s brown eyes met his blue ones frankly, but the pink flush of\nher cheeks deepened to brilliant red under the unconscious admiration\nin his face. Eletheer noted this and the sly wink she gave her sister\nmade the latter\u2019s face flame.\n\nMr. Genung was discussing the freshet: \u201cOnly four bridges left between\nhere and Kingston.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhich ones are they?\u201d Mr. De Vere inquired.\n\n\u201cThe Port Ben bridge, the old covered bridge at Accord, the covered\nbridge at High Falls, and the Auchmmody bridge at Rosendale; down at\nthe coal docks everything is swept away, one iron bridge is intact but\nthe abutments are injured and a wide channel is dug around one end of\nthe bridge; one pier has been destroyed at the Honk Falls bridge, but\nnothing short of deluge can reach the bridge.\u201d\n\n\u201cHave you any news from Rosendale?\u201d they asked.\n\n\u201cThere is about a thousand feet of tow-path gone on the feeder level.\nThe canal bridge and creek bridge with abutments are on the flats. The\nwater is too high to tell how much damage is done. There are slides and\nother damages too numerous to mention. The canal is a total wreck.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen the Berm[A] is the only road passable to Kingston,\u201d said Mr. De\nVere. \u201cHow did you manage to get here?\u201d\n\n  [A] Berm. \u201cThe bank of a canal opposite the tow-path.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe road to Wawarsing is in bad condition but we managed to reach\nthere by going across lots and so on to Port Ben, and from there we\nfollowed the Berm.\u201d\n\nIt was late in the day, and as there was nothing they could do to help,\nthe party went indoors. Mr. Genung and Hernando were wet to the skin,\nand Mrs. De Vere insisted on their clothes being changed; so they\nappeared arrayed in suits of Mr. De Vere\u2019s and Jack\u2019s while Reuben\ndried and pressed theirs. Genung and De Vere wandered into the library\nand seated themselves before the fire where they were soon in earnest\nconversation. The latter had mentioned Mills\u2019 offer and his promise to\nconsider it.\n\n\u201cI should not sell,\u201d said Mr. Genung with decision. \u201cHe will put\nup a sanitarium for consumptives, induce others to erect summer\nboarding-houses and turn this valley into a summer resort; in the\nend, killing all manufactories and leaving our vast mineral resources\nundeveloped. Hernando, who has spent nearly all his life among mines,\nsays the precious metals are here. He found some specimens this morning\nwhich he says contain gold.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut I am afraid not in sufficient quantities for mining,\u201d said Mr. De\nVere resignedly.\n\n\u201cThose words are Mills\u2019s,\u201d answered Genung hotly. \u201cI believe that man\nis a rascal.\u201d\n\nJohn De Vere judged others from his own standpoint. Absolutely\nincorruptible himself, he would not see wrong in another until\ncompelled to do so, and Genung\u2019s flat denunciation of Mills annoyed\nhim, but restraining his annoyance, he said: \u201cI fear Mills is in need\nof money.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet me see, when does your mortgage come due?\u201d said Genung, who always\ndiscussed business matters frankly with De Vere.\n\n\u201cJanuary first.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have five thousand dollars which I am anxious to invest, and unless\nyou are in a position to pay your mortgage, I should like to take it.\u201d\n\nAlthough De Vere believed Mills\u2019s intentions honest, he unconsciously\nfelt a great sense of relief, and thankfully agreed to the transfer.\n\n\u201cOne thing more,\u201d said Genung, \u201cDo not sell your mining claim until\nHernando has prospected on it. He is a mining expert, and if he says\ngold is not there in sufficient quantities to pay for mining, I\u2019ll not\nobject if Mills puts up a pest-house on it.\u201d\n\nDe Vere laughed as he said, \u201cGenung, I value your friendship more than\nthat of any man living; but I really think you misjudge Mills.\u201d\n\nHernando was in the sitting-room with Celeste. She played the guitar\ncharmingly and her voice was a clear, sweet soprano. One song followed\nanother and Hernando felt as if vouchsafed a glimpse of Eden. Suddenly\nrecalling himself, he said: \u201cPardon my selfishness, you must be tired.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot a bit,\u201d she replied gaily. \u201cAre you fond of the guitar?\u201d\n\n\u201cVery, and your singing is a rare treat,\u201d he replied sincerely. \u201cMy\nlife has been spent largely in mining camps, and the music in such\nplaces is not, to say the least, classical.\u201d\n\n\u201cHave you always lived in Nevada?\u201d\n\n\u201cNevada and California.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat includes San Francisco and Chinatown of course?\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course, but usually \u2018California\u2019 means Southern California; the\nland of flowers, fruits and perpetual sunshine.\u201d\n\n\u201cTrue, but Chinatown must be very interesting.\u201d\n\n\u201cFive minutes in a Chinese theater would effectively disillusion you,\nMiss De Vere. The orchestra is a thing of terror, although I am told\nthat Chinese music has a scientific theory and recognized scale, but to\nthe Caucasian ear it is simply beyond belief.\u201d\n\n\u201cI trust you will appreciate our mountains in summer, though you\nprobably consider these hills,\u201d laughed Celeste.\n\nBut Hernando was thinking of neither Nevada nor hills. That sweet face,\nthose great brown eyes were raised to his trustfully, and he forgot his\nown name, while a thrill went through him.\n\n\u201cOne always associates Nevada with snowy mountains and balsamy air,\u201d\nCeleste continued.\n\nGlancing out of the window she saw Eletheer in rubber boots and short\nskirts with Cornelia on her back, wading through the slush toward the\nbarn. Celeste looked shocked, but attracted Hernando\u2019s attention\nindoors. She was a little late, however, for seeing her expression, he\nglanced out just in time to hear Eletheer say, \u201cHold on tight,\u201d and off\nthey sped.\n\n\u201cI trust she will not fall down with the little one,\u201d said Hernando.\n\n\u201cEletheer fall!\u201d and Celeste laughed a soft ripple. \u201cShe never does\nthat, and it is impossible to lose her in these mountains. When\nCornelia was not a year old, mother spied her in the very top of an\napple tree sitting in Eletheer\u2019s lap.\u201d\n\n\u201cMary Genung told me of their experiences after milkweed greens and\nwild flowers. She says your sister is absolutely fearless.\u201d\n\n\u201cEletheer is our psychological problem.\u201d\n\nHernando looked amused and she added, \u201cTo her mind time-honored\ninstitutions are generally wrong.\u201d\n\n\u201cMarriage, for instance?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes. That should be a profession with preliminary examinations as to\nfitness.\u201d\n\nHernando\u2019s face became a trifle paler as he replied, \u201cThey say at\nbirth nine-tenths of man\u2019s evolution is completed. Your sister has\nencountered a weighty problem, and a melancholy one.\u201d\n\n\u201cWeighty problems require too much effort,\u201d laughed Celeste, \u201cand my\ncontribution to society must be on purely feminine lines.\u201d\n\nIn the evening, the younger members of the family gathered in the\ndining-room. Jack and Hernando cracked walnuts and Celeste read aloud\nfrom a newspaper which had just arrived by stage on the Berm. The paper\ncontained a vivid account of the flood, and it was listened to with\nmuch interest.\n\n\u201cWho knows but this freshet may reveal \u2018Old Ninety-Nine\u2019s Cave\u2019?\u201d said\nJack with a light laugh.\n\n\u201cWho is \u2018Old Ninety-Nine\u2019?\u201d Hernando asked.\n\n\u201cHave you not heard the story?\u201d asked Jack in some surprise.\n\n\u201cNo, but I should like to,\u201d replied Hernando.\n\n\u201cEletheer remembers, and is full of these old legends; when she returns\nfrom putting Granny to bed, I\u2019ll get her to tell this one.\u201d\n\nThey heard her presently going into the kitchen and as she did not\nreturn, Celeste went into the hall and called her, saying Mr. Hernando\nGenung wished her to tell the story of \u201cOld Ninety-Nine.\u201d\n\nEletheer came in, having forgotten to remove her gingham apron, and\nseemed pleased to repeat the story.\n\n\u201cOld Ninety-Nine,\u201d Neopakiutic, was a Wawarsing chief and supposed\nto have been the sole remnant of the Ninety-ninth Tribe. He was a\ngreat hunter and after the Revolution lived for some years among the\nsettlers, doing nothing in summer, but hunting and trapping in the\nwinter. Benny Depuy was a well-known resident of Wawarsing and as he\nwas a lazy, good soul who loved to fish and hunt and tell stories, he\nbecame a great favorite of \u201cNinety-Nine,\u201d and one day the Indian told\nhim that he would show him a sight he would never forget, and one that\nhe would not show his own brother; that in Benny he had much confidence\nand was willing to take him along on his next trip up the mountain.\nThe two started up the mountain above Port Ben and after travelling\nseveral miles, often over fallen rocks and decayed trees, they came to\nthe dry channel of a mountain creek. Here Benny was blindfolded and\nafter going up the bed of the creek for about an hour, as nearly as\nhe could estimate, the bandage was taken from his eyes and he found\nhimself at the foot of a high ledge of rocks. The old Indian, who was a\nmuscular giant, rolled aside a boulder and a passage-way was disclosed\nthat seemed to run directly under the cliff. The old Indian told Benny\nto follow and he went into the passage for a short distance, Benny\nholding him by his shirt-sleeves so as not to lose him, for he thought\nthere was nothing to come of this adventure, but expected to be carried\naway by goblins. A short piece of candle was lighted and they found\nthemselves in a large, vaulted room that seemed cut out from the solid\nrock. It looked like the abode of fairies. On the floor were rich and\ncostly carpets so thickly spread that the heavy boots of the hunters\ngave no sound. The sides of the cavern were hung with tapestry. The\ncave was lined with beautiful vases and rare things of many kinds. In\none corner of the cave was a large chest which \u201cNinety-Nine\u201d opened and\ntold Benny to look in, holding over it the lighted candle. Benny looked\nand beheld \u201cheaps upon heaps of gold, silver and precious stones.\u201d\n\u201cNinety-Nine\u201d raked his fingers back and forth through the shining\ntreasures and finally, after bandaging Benny\u2019s eyes, they started down\nthe mountain.\n\n\u201cWhat became of the Indian?\u201d Hernando inquired.\n\n\u201cNo one knows. He was very old and the people lost sight of him. This\nvalley is full of Indian legends, and some of them are beautiful,\u201d said\nEletheer.\n\n\u201cNow, Eletheer,\u201d said Jack, \u201cyou recited that so well, let us hear how\nwell you remember your catechism.\u201d\n\nHernando smiled, and said, \u201cThe settlers of this valley seem to have\nbeen engaged in constant warfare with the Indians.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d said Eletheer, \u201cin the first place the whites seized their\nhunting-grounds and corn-patches. They never purchased the land as\nthe settlers on the other side of the mountain did. The Indians were\npeaceable until the French war, during which one family was massacred.\nAfter that they were still on good terms, but during the Revolution,\nthe British were at the bottom of all their depredations, telling them\nthat the settlers had stolen their lands and that they were cowards\nnot to be avenged. The British offered them a guinea for every white\nscalp they obtained and gave them every assistance. If the Indians had\nbeen let alone, they would never have committed the fearful outrages\nwhich they are now charged with. As it was, the Indian hesitated where\nthe Tories did not; the latter would sneak into the home when the men\nwere laboring in the fields and plunge his knife into the bosom of a\nsleeping infant or a defenseless woman. Can you wonder that the word\nTory is hated by every descendant of the early settlers of this town?\u201d\n\n\u201cI should think they could have been convicted of Toryism,\u201d Hernando\ncontinued.\n\n\u201cIt was a hard thing to do. They lived out in the woods disguised\nas Indians, whom they kept posted in regard to the doings in the\nsettlements, but pretended to be friends of the whites. Talk of the\ntreachery of an Indian! He can\u2019t begin where a Tory left off,\u201d said\nEletheer warmly.\n\nJust then the clock struck eleven, and soon after Mr. De Vere and Mr.\nGenung entered the dining-room.\n\n\u201cTime all honest folks were in bed,\u201d said Mr. De Vere. \u201cWhat have you\nyoung people been doing all the evening?\u201d\n\n\u201cI have been listening to some very interesting events in the history\nof this town,\u201d Hernando replied.\n\n\u201cOur ancestors were firm believers in special dispensations of\nProvidence,\u201d said Mr. De Vere.\n\n\u201cAnd their intercession met with favor,\u201d replied Mr. Genung.\n\n\u201cStrange!\u201d said Hernando musingly, \u201cthat no trace of \u2018Old\nNinety-Nine\u2019s\u2019 cave has ever been discovered. His history sounds like\na fairy tale.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhich I verily believe it is,\u201d laughed Mr. De Vere. \u201cAside from those\nin the limestone district, there are no true caves in the Shawangunk\nMountains intersected as they are with metalliferous veins.\u201d\n\n\u201cDo you consider the story of the mine apocryphal?\u201d\n\n\u201cI regard it as simply a local tradition. Instead of a Captain Kidd or\nsome other pirate, we, on this side of the mountains, have an equally\nromantic hero in \u2018Old Ninety-Nine.\u2019 Benny Depuy, however, is well\nremembered by some of the old residents of this town, was a weaver\nby trade, and had an imagination as vivid as the colors he wove. His\nhouse, a quaint specimen of the architecture of pioneer days when each\nhome was a veritable fort for protection against Indian outbreak,\nis still in a good state of preservation. Benny claims that \u2018Old\nNinety-Nine\u2019 frequently stopped there. According to tradition, the\nIndian was a \u201cMedicine man\u201d; knew the properties of every medicinal\nroot and herb and effected some wonderful cures. He is said to have\nspoken Spanish, coined Spanish money in his cave, and gone to the West\nIndies to dispose of it, where it was believed he had a white wife. But\nan Indian, were he ever so friendly to the whites, never divulged the\nlocation of mines. Thirst for revenge is the most deeply seated trait\nin the savage breast, and for this reason Benny kept his adventure a\nsecret for many years. He never visited the cave but that once, and not\nlong afterward \u2018Old Ninety-Nine\u2019 disappeared. Some supposed that he\ndied of old age, others that in clambering over the dangerous crevices\nhe had fallen into one of them and been killed. When Benny felt that\nall danger from Indian vengeance was passed, he searched repeatedly and\nin every direction for the cave but never succeeded in finding it, so\nconcluded that a fallen rock must have closed its entrance.\u201d And with a\nshrug Mr. De Vere turned to reply to a question of Mr. Genung\u2019s.\n\nHernando strolled to the window; the night was one of Egyptian\ndarkness but eastward, up the mountain side and nearly to the summit,\na bright light, like the flame of a candle, burned steadily. To assure\nhimself that it was no illusion or trick of the imagination, he watched\nit carefully for several minutes. \u201cWhat can it be?\u201d he thought. There\nwas no possibility of reflection and no smoke. \u201cPerhaps a belated\nprospecting party or a signal of distress,\u201d he reasoned, at the same\ntime opening the window.\n\n\u201cWhat now!\u201d called Mr. Genung, stepping beside his nephew.\n\n\u201cGreat Scott!\u201d he exclaimed, with a hasty glance at his watch. \u201cThe\n\u2018light\u2019 and \u2018twelve o\u2019clock!\u2019 Is it seven years?\u201d\n\nSimultaneously all rushed forward. Steadily burned the flame while its\nobservers remained mute.\n\n\u201cWell, what is it?\u201d Hernando asked with impatience.\n\n\u201cThe \u2018light,\u2019\u201d his uncle replied excitedly.\n\n\u201cGreat Heavens! what light? Are you mad?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo be sure, I beg your pardon, Hernando,\u201d Mr. Genung replied. \u201cThere\nis a saying in this valley that \u2018every seven years, a bright light,\nlike a candle, rises at twelve o\u2019clock at night over the mine, and\ndisappears in the clouds; but no one that has ever seen it has been\nable in daylight to find from where it arose.\u2019 Come to think of it, it\nis exactly seven years since we closed out that Shushan deal. It was a\ndark night and on my way home I saw the light.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut is it visible every seven years and at twelve o\u2019clock?\u201d Hernando\nasked.\n\n\u201cThat is what they all say. I pledge my word on having seen it twice at\nthat time,\u201d replied his uncle.\n\nDuring this dialogue Hernando had not once removed his glance from the\nflame which rose clear and steady, from out its ebon surroundings.\nNo sound but the distant roar from turbulent streams, and a soft\ntick! tick! of the great hall clock, broke the stillness. For a full\nhalf hour the watchers waited, and then, as suddenly as it came, the\nmysterious light disappeared.\n\n\u201cThere!\u201d said Mr. Genung, slapping his nephew on the shoulder; \u201ccan you\nbeat this out West?\u201d\n\nThe young man\u2019s face wore an amused smile as he replied: \u201cIt is,\nindeed, singular and, except possibly the elimination of gases, I can\nthink of no logical explanation. But its having any connection whatever\nwith \u2018Old Ninety-Nine\u2019 strikes me as absurd. What say you, Miss De\nVere?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d she replied, with a tip of her head that reminded one of a\npet canary, and which caused Hernando\u2019s heart to beat unmercifully,\n\u201cmystery has no charm for me, and I have never been able to enthuse\nover \u2018Old Ninety-Nine,\u2019 much to the disgust of your cousin Mary\nGenung and Eletheer. He belongs to a half mythical past and what more\nnatural than that the \u2018light,\u2019 occurring as it does with such singular\nregularity, should be connected with the old chief? They are equally\nelusive.\u201d\n\n\u201cI supposed love of the mysterious to be a strongly feminine\nattribute.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut there are mysteries and mysteries. Have you any sisters, Mr.\nHernando?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo sisters!\u201d she repeated, with mock severity. \u201cThen I fear that your\neducation has been sadly neglected. Ask Jack what he thinks on the\nsubject.\u201d\n\nHearing his name mentioned, Jack joined them and a lively debate\nfollowed, so that it was after one o\u2019clock before they went to bed,\nand two of them, at least, sought their pillows strangely disturbed in\nspirit. Hernando tossed restlessly on his soft bed. Try as he would to\nbanish the vision, Celeste\u2019s sweet face always appeared before him and,\nlike some half-forgotten emotion revived, his heart beat tumultuously.\nA less discerning eye than his could easily see that Celeste was\ninterested; but why did he find it so difficult to meet those eyes? A\nsense of uncongeniality with the atmosphere of this woman, the antitype\nof any he had ever known, disturbed. Chinatown interesting! For the\nfirst time in years a red flush of shame surged to his very temples,\nand he dimly comprehended that \u201cWe are begirt with laws which execute\nthemselves.\u201d\n\nCeleste undressed, humming softly to herself. Her bright eyes were\nunusually brilliant and the color in her cheeks rivalled the roses in\nJune. She flitted about the room, carefully folding each garment as it\nwas removed.\n\nPresently Eletheer, who was nearly asleep, said impatiently: \u201cCeleste\nDe Vere, for goodness\u2019 sake put out that light and come to bed. Don\u2019t\nyou hear the roosters crowing?\u201d\n\n\u201cIn just one minute,\u201d Celeste answered, brushing out her curls.\n\nEletheer turned her face towards the wall and soon slept soundly.\n\nA young girl\u2019s first love is like the bursting of a blossom after a\nthunderstorm. It is not yet ready to expand and though for a time the\nfragrance may be overpowering, it is soon lost. Celeste never sang in a\nminor. Sensitive, intense to a degree, a delicate child, she had always\nbeen tenderly watched over and shielded from every care. She had grown\ninto a wonderfully beautiful woman who viewed life from its sunny\nside. Cultivated in all her tastes, generous to a fault, her purse was\nalways ready to assist in charitable schemes, but the thought that she\nhad an active part to play in the great drama of life never occurred\nto her. Accustomed all her life to admiration, she accepted it as her\nsimple due.\n\nOf course she would marry, all normal girls do, the expected man always\ncomes, and is intensely interesting.\n\n\u201cLet me see,\u201d she said with another glance in the mirror. \u201cOne\nshould marry one\u2019s opposite. His eyes are blue, hair golden. Yes,\nhe is a blond, muscular, rather than massive, and\u201d--putting out the\nlight--\u201cwith nothing mysterious about him.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\n\nThe work of repairing the damage caused by the freshet was pushed and\nby the end of the week a temporary bridge had been constructed over the\ncreek and the canal below the house, enabling foot-passengers from the\nmountain to cross over to the village.\n\nMr. De Vere\u2019s letter declining to sell was forwarded to Mills and the\nmortgage transferred to Mr. Genung. The latter was very anxious that\nHernando should prospect on Mr. De Vere\u2019s mining claim so, to satisfy\nhim, Mr. De Vere agreed to accompany them on an expedition to it as\nsoon as the weather would permit. Accordingly they started up the\nmountain back of the house one morning in the following week. They\nfollowed the path to the maple bush for some distance, then, turning\nto the east, climbed over rocks and broken trees to Point Wawanda and\nthen struck into a gully just behind it. Many rivulets flowed down the\nmountain above, but one in particular, after a swift rush from the very\nsummit, dropped down into the earth under Point Wawanda. Placing his\near to the earth Hernando could hear a roar as of underground waters\nand knew that they must have passed through some cavern or cleft far\ndown in the mountain. Carefully taking his bearings, they were found\nto accord exactly with the description of the marks and locations\ndescribed by Benny. Hernando felt assured that somewhere near was the\ncave and one of considerable extent. Directly in front of him rose a\ncliff over one hundred feet in height. Scaling this, the young man\nlooked westward towards the Laurels. \u201cAh,\u201d he said, aloud, holding\nhis nose at a crevice in the rocks, \u201cone mystery is explained to my\nsatisfaction: gas. So, \u2018no one that has ever seen it has been able in\ndaylight to find whence it arose,\u2019\u201d he laughed. \u201cIf all instances were\nas harmless as this one what a delightful place to live in this dreary\nold world would be.\u201d He descended to his former position for a closer\ninspection of the cliff.\n\nSuddenly his experienced eye was attracted by a fissure in the rocks\ncomposing the entire eastern side of Wawanda and which ran almost to\nthe top. Hernando approached it and brushing aside the snow he forced\nhis body through an opening just large enough to admit it. The crevice\nwas full of snow but, with much labor, he dug his way along and found\nthis was the entrance to a second passage-way, which he also entered.\nFurther progress was barred by a heap of rocks, but these were loose\nand, removing them, an almost circular opening was disclosed. He\nlighted a candle and crawling on hands and knees finally emerged into a\nsort of cave. Long and loud he shouted to the waiting men outside and\nat last a faint \u201cHello\u201d proclaimed that these portly gentlemen were\nsqueezing their way through, and after a long time they stood beside\nHernando, panting and perspiring. As soon as they recovered their\nbreath, they proceeded to explore this mysterious cavern.\n\n\u201cLook here!\u201d said Hernando, who, with a deft stroke of his hammer, had\nshivered the rock, disclosing a dull yellow surface. \u201cGold!\u201d they\nexclaimed, looking excitedly into each other\u2019s faces.\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d Hernando continued calmly. \u201cThe whole inner surface of these\nrocks is full of gold. Others have been here before us too. Some one\nhas struck a pocket, and recently. Look, here is a cavity which seems\nto have been dug out.\u201d\n\nMills\u2019s offer flashed through De Vere\u2019s mind, but he dismissed the\nthought as unworthy, and turned to listen to a sound of rumbling which\nseemed to come from the bowels of the earth. Hernando heard it too,\nand removing a heap of rubbish from one corner made his way through a\nhole, but quickly reappeared saying he had better be secured by a rope\nas these underground passages were treacherous. Mr. De Vere threw a\nloop about his waist, securely fastened the other end, and held back\nthe slack in his hand ready to be guided by signals, and Hernando again\ndisappeared from view down a slanting rock worn smooth by the action\nof water that at one time must have flowed over it, but which now\nissued from under a slimy boulder some feet lower down at the opposite\nside. Sliding and falling alternately he at last landed on a sort of\nplatform about ten feet wide and running along the brink of a pit\nwhich seemed bottomless. The dim light from his miner\u2019s candle cast\nweird shadows on the black rocks over whose sides snake-like streams\ncrept stealthily down. Hernando shivered and turned to leave the spot,\nwhen his attention was attracted by an object at the further end of\nthe platform. There lay what appeared to be an image of stone. He\ndrew nearer, and kneeling down looked long and carefully down at it.\nUnmistakably it was the petrified body of an Indian. Those features\ncould belong to no other race. The eyes and hair, one foot and three\nfingers were gone; but otherwise, the body seemed to be in a state\nof perfect preservation,--to have been literally turned into stone.\nOf course all remnants of clothing had disappeared, though even the\nremaining toe and finger-nails were perfect. But the ears! did human\nbeings ever possess such appendages? The lobes were so elongated as to\nnearly rest on the shoulders.\n\nThis man must have been a giant, for the body measured nearly seven\nfeet. Hernando attempted to roll it over but found this impossible, for\nbesides its great weight, the image was covered with slime, and during\nhis efforts one ear was broken off. This Hernando put into his pocket.\n\nThe heavy air oppressed him, and so absorbed had he been in his\nexamination that he had not noticed how near the edge of the platform\nhe was, until on attempting to rise his feet slipped from under him.\nHis cap with the candle rolled down into the pit, and in total darkness\nhe hung suspended over that yawning abyss.\n\nAlmost overpowered by the heavy air, he had barely strength enough left\nto guide the rope which, from the violent jerk it gave, warned those\nabove of danger.\n\nGasping for breath, he was pulled up to where the fresher air soon\nrevived him and he was then enabled to relate his discovery.\n\nThe enormous petrified ear must undoubtedly have belonged to \u201cOld\nNinety-Nine.\u201d\n\nPal\u00e6ontologists assert and prove the petrifying properties of these\nmountain streams. Undoubtedly the lower cave had once been the channel\nof the stream which now rumbled far below, and nature in the throes of\ngrowing-pains had opened a new channel.\n\nHow \u201cOld Ninety-Nine\u201d came to be there, or met his death, must remain a\nmystery, but his cave was at last discovered.\n\nCompletely restored, Hernando hastened to procure assistance in\nbringing the body out, and after travelling down the mountain toward\nthe house for a short distance he met Reuben and a sturdy wood-chopper\nby the name of Mike McGavitt, on their way to the woods. To them he\nunfolded his plans and they readily consented to assist him. Reuben\nvolunteered to bring whatever articles were needed. These were\nrubbers for all the party, plenty of stout rope and a plank. Reuben\ncomprehended fully what they were needed for, and in little less than\nhalf an hour returned with the things, and they all hastened back to\nthe cave, where De Vere and Genung were strolling about the entrance.\nHernando led into the cave followed by the others. Inside, Hernando,\nReuben and Mike divested themselves of their boots and securely\nstrapping on their feet a pair of rubbers to prevent slipping, were\nsuccessfully lowered to the platform on which lay all that was left of\n\u201cOld Ninety-Nine.\u201d Mike came last, and as he slid down the incline,\nclutching the rope, he called, \u201cSchteady, me byes, schteady!\u201d He crept\nalong the shelf, averting his eyes from the pit. Next the plank was\nlowered, and it required the united efforts of all three to roll the\nbody upon it. At last it was securely fastened, and Reuben was pulled\nup to assist the other two in hauling the body to the surface. \u201cKape\naninst the wall, mind your noose!\u201d Mike shouted, and though his teeth\nchattered with terror, he winked at Hernando and said, \u201cPhat\u2019s the\nprogram, me bye? I\u2019m wid ye phatever it do be, but it\u2019s a howlin\u2019\nboost!\u201d\n\nThey pushed the plank along carefully and were about to signal for a\nhoist line when Mike lunged backward and would have fallen over the\nprecipice but for Hernando\u2019s timely assistance. The plank was not yet\nattached to any thing but the rope by which it had been lowered and\nMike\u2019s frantic clutchings sent it over the brink. Down, down, down it\nwent, crashing against first one side and then another. At last a faint\nsplash proclaimed that the terrific leap was over and once more \u201cOld\nNinety-Nine\u2019s\u201d body had eluded human gaze. The next discoverer will\nfind it minus one ear. Learned men will account for this on scientific\nprinciples; they will analyze petrifying fluids and tell us why some\nportions of the body are affected and others not; but the fascination\nwhich clings so tenaciously to the memory of \u201cOld Ninety-Nine\u201d will\nendure as long as the Shawangunks, and each succeeding generation\nwill continue to be told that \u201cEvery seven years a bright light like\na candle rises at twelve o\u2019clock over the mine and disappears in the\nclouds; but no one who has ever seen it has been able by daylight to\nfind from whence it came.\u201d\n\nThe belief of the Indians that after they had endured their punishment\nfor sins committed, the Great Spirit would restore to them their\nhunting-grounds caused them to keep their mines a secret. \u201cOld\nNinety-Nine\u201d is one no longer, and let us hope that in richer mines and\nfairer hunting-grounds than he dreamed of, he is beyond the treachery\nof his white brother--beyond injustice and unfair dealing, where his\ngreat Manitou does not offer him the cup of good-will in the form of an\nunknown intoxicant as did Henry Hudson when planning the seizure of the\nland of his forefathers.\n\nHernando signalled for them to be drawn up and the news of the accident\nwas duly reported.\n\n\u201cAfter all,\u201d said Mr. De Vere, \u201cit is better so. His body would simply\nhave been an object of curiosity. Let the waters which transformed his\nflesh into stone receive it again.\u201d\n\nMike looked relieved. \u201cShure, Schquire is after schpakin\u2019 the truth. So\nhelp me, God, niver agin will I schpile the works of God Almighty!\u201d he\nsaid.\n\nMr. Genung was inclined to be provoked, but Hernando explained the\nexceedingly dangerous position and how fortunate Mike had been to\nescape with his life, and somewhat ashamed, he asked what was to be\ndone next.\n\n\u201cPut in a blast,\u201d replied Hernando.\n\nSilently they emerged from the cave and followed Hernando around the\neastern side of Wawanda where the fissure was through which they had\nentered. Excavations were begun in earnest and a heavy charge put\nin. The report which followed must have startled the good people of\nNootwyck. It tore a great piece out of the eastern side of Wawanda and\nwhen the smoke cleared Hernando was almost beside himself with joy at\nthe result of the explosion. Like the cave, the whole inner surface was\nfull of bits of gold and some spongy masses intermixed with leaves of\nyellow metal. Hernando picked some of the latter off with the point\nof his jack-knife and placing it in Mr. De Vere\u2019s hand, said, in the\ntone of a seasoned miner, \u201cYou have struck it rich, Mr. De Vere, and\nI congratulate you. It may not run far like that, but the chances\nare that it will. I never saw anything equal to it. Point Wawanda is\nliterally filled with gold veins. That is the lode cropping out nearly\nto the top.\u201d\n\nStepping up to the young man whose eyes beamed with such unselfish\npleasure, Mr. De Vere placed his hands on his shoulders and said: \u201cWill\nyou accept the position of superintendent of the Hernando Mine?\u201d\n\n\u201cI will gladly accept the position, but would prefer another name.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat name is more appropriate than the name of its discoverer?\u201d\nreplied Mr. De Vere warmly.\n\n\u201cNone; but who is the discoverer?\u201d\n\n[Illustration: Margaret]\n\nMr. De Vere was silent for a moment and Hernando continued, \u201cPardon\nme for suggesting, but much as I appreciate your wish to perpetuate\nmy name, it would give me far more pleasure were it named after \u2018Old\nNinety-Nine.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cOld Ninety-Nine it is then!\u201d they all responded with a shout.\n\n\u201cAh! Hernando,\u201d said his uncle, \u201cyou know paying dirt when you see it.\nIt is born in you.\u201d\n\nHis disinterested efforts were appreciated. It meant untold wealth\nto the owner--wealth expended in helping his fellow-beings--work for\nhundreds and hundreds of idle miners, comfort for their families, and\nthe transformation of the slumbering village below into a great city.\n\nIt was nearly night and the three had eaten nothing since breakfast, so\nMr. De Vere\u2019s invitation to supper was readily accepted.\n\nThe family had grown anxious at their long absence and the tired\nprospectors were warmly received. A good bath refreshed them greatly,\nand they were ready to do justice to Margaret\u2019s fried chicken and puffy\nhot biscuits.\n\nMr. Genung was apparently intent on dissecting a chicken leg, but\nhis mind was thousands of miles away. In far-off Nevada another\nscene had been enacted which this one brought anew to his memory. His\nyounger brother, so like Hernando, had also opened up a mine of untold\nrichness. He also dreamed of founding a mighty city and leaving behind\nhim a name which would go down in history. Did his dreams materialize?\nHow would his name appear on the pages of history, and would the volume\nbe savory reading? Glancing across the table his eyes met Hernando\u2019s,\nfull of bitterness. The absolute misery he saw pictured there softened\neven the stern features of Andrew Genung.\n\nEletheer, who had been a silent witness of this thought transference,\nsaw the far-away look in Mr. Genung\u2019s eyes and her heart ached with\npity for Hernando. Some great sorrow must be buried in his past, for\nnothing less could cause those blue eyes to become suddenly black and\nbring that look of mute suffering into them. From that moment, Eletheer\nwas his sworn friend, and this conclusion once reached was final.\nShe said nothing, however, but talked gaily of their prospects and\nlaughingly asked Mr. Genung what he would do for milkweed greens when\nthe \u201cIsland\u201d was all settled.\n\n\u201cYou and Mary must turn your attention to agriculture and cultivate\nthem,\u201d he replied.\n\n\u201cOur old camping-grounds will all be spoiled,\u201d she said with mock\ngravity. \u201cHunting arbutus, gathering bittersweet berries and picking\nhuckleberries will be but a memory.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you will be a great lady with suitors by the score,\u201d laughed\nCeleste.\n\n\u201cMy suitor has long been accepted,\u201d Eletheer returned gravely.\n\n\u201cIndeed,\u201d said Mr. Genung in some surprise, \u201cif his name is not a\nsecret I should like to know it.\u201d\n\n\u201cMary is in my confidence,\u201d she answered, \u201cand, like me, has chosen her\nlife-work.\u201d\n\nMr. Genung eyed her curiously. His own daughter, just about Eletheer\u2019s\nage, was not a girl to have secrets from her parents.\n\n\u201cThis is all nonsense,\u201d Eletheer said hotly. \u201cMary is fitting herself\nfor a professorship and I intend to become a trained nurse. Granny and\nReuben are teaching me now.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, my dear,\u201d said Mr. Genung, \u201cI trust you both may find a suitable\nfield for your talents in our own beautiful valley.\u201d\n\nHernando\u2019s cheeks were unusually pale, and after supper as they all\nfollowed Mr. De Vere into the library, Granny saw this and remarked on\nit, but he only laughed and said he felt perfectly well but a little\ntired.\n\nThe mine was discussed in all its bearings, and they decided that\nHernando had better spend the night at Mr. De Vere\u2019s so as to be near\nthe field of operations in the morning.\n\n\u201cYou look exhausted anyway,\u201d said Mr. De Vere. \u201cThink of the time you\nspent in that damp, foul hole after all your exertions in gaining\naccess to it.\u201d\n\nMr. Genung left after making an appointment at Mr. De Vere\u2019s office\nthe next morning to complete arrangements for working the mine, and\nsoon after the family retired, but before Granny sought her bed, she\ninstructed Eletheer in the art of preparing a bowl of boneset tea, and\nHernando obediently promised to swallow it.\n\nBoneset tea was the old lady\u2019s panacea for all ills; a sneeze, cough,\nor wet feet when noticed by her caused the good woman to instantly\nbrew and force down the throat of the victim a bowl full of this\nnauseous draught, and Eletheer, who was her special charge, declared\nthat she was forming the \u201cboneset habit.\u201d She could not help smiling\nas she handed the steaming bowl to Hernando saying, \u201cPrepared strictly\naccording to directions; one scant handful of the dried herb, being\ncareful to omit blossoms (which nauseate), one-half pint of water\nand two tablespoons of molasses. Steep gradually one hour.\u201d Hernando\nreceived it with a quiet \u201cThank you,\u201d and swallowed it with seeming\nrelish; then saying \u201cGood-night,\u201d entered his room and closed the door\nbehind him.\n\nGranny, whose room joined Eletheer\u2019s, was awake when the latter tiptoed\nin, and the lamp was still burning. Hearing the door pushed softly to,\nshe called, \u201cEletheer!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, Granny, I\u2019m coming,\u201d she answered.\n\n\u201cDid you give Mr. Hernando the boneset tea piping hot?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, Granny.\u201d\n\n\u201cDid you put a hot brick in the bed?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo Ma\u2019am, you didn\u2019t tell me to, did you?\u201d\n\nThe old lady looked severely at her and then said: \u201cGo straight to the\nkitchen this minute and bring the one I told Margaret to put in the\noven. If you intend to be a trained nurse, you must learn to think for\nyourself. That poor, motherless boy has taken cold. I wanted to soak\nhis feet but he wouldn\u2019t let me, and there is nothing like a good sweat\nto break up a cold. Tell him to be sure and tuck the covers in.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will see that he has the brick and attend to him, Granny. You won\u2019t\nremain awake any longer, will you?\u201d she said, tucking the covers around\nthe old lady, after which she started for the kitchen, putting out the\nlight on her way.\n\nThe kitchen was vacant, but she found the brick and wrapping it in a\nlittle old shawl of Margaret\u2019s hurried up to Hernando\u2019s room. Her light\ntap received no response.\n\n\u201cI\u2019m afraid he is asleep and hate to wake him,\u201d she thought. \u201cWhat\nmakes Granny so set anyway! I\u2019ve got to do it or displease her, so here\ngoes,\u201d and she gave a sounding knock.\n\n\u201cCome in,\u201d said a faint voice and she opened the door.\n\n\u201cWho is it?\u201d Hernando called, his teeth chattering.\n\n\u201cI. Granny told me to bring you this hot brick,\u201d said Eletheer\nadvancing.\n\n\u201cShe is very kind. Thank you so much,\u201d he managed to say.\n\nEletheer handed him the brick, and as he reached for it his hand came\nin contact with hers. It was like ice.\n\nShe glanced helplessly around. \u201cIf you are to be a trained nurse you\nmust think for yourself,\u201d rang in her ears.\n\n\u201cYou are shivering with cold,\u201d she said. \u201cDidn\u2019t the boneset tea do you\nany good?\u201d\n\n\u201cI think it will.\u201d\n\n\u201cGranny will feel dreadfully if I don\u2019t do something,\u201d she thought.\n\u201cThere, I have it, I\u2019ll go for Reuben!\u201d\n\n\u201cReuben!\u201d she whispered at his door, which was always ajar, \u201cI think\nMr. Hernando is sick. The boneset tea didn\u2019t do him any good.\u201d\n\n\u201cVery well, honey, jes\u2019 yo\u2019 go to bed, I\u2019se comin\u2019,\u201d he answered\ncheerily.\n\nIn a few seconds he was beside Hernando, bringing as he invariably did,\nrelief. Gradually Hernando\u2019s shivering grew less, then finally ceased\naltogether and at last he fell asleep only to mutter in delirium which\ngrew wild and wilder. Hour after hour passed yet that faithful black\nfigure met every emergency as it came. Again and again were the heated\npillows turned, was the wild call for \u201cwater! water!\u201d answered, his\nevery need anticipated, and time sped for both patient and nurse.\n\n\u201cFive o\u2019clock,\u201d thought Reuben, as he returned from replenishing the\nfire. His charge was asleep; so drawing an easy-chair beside the\nbed he settled himself for a nap. One by one each familiar object\nin the room fades from sight and he is in a foreign-looking city of\nnarrow streets, dimly lighted by the soft glow of Chinese lanterns.\nThe streets are thronged with Celestials weaving back and forth. Even\nReuben is fascinated by the substratum of actual sin around him. It\nis a panopticon of strange sights; little rooms in which are huddled\ntogether groups of odd-looking women making shoes; eye and ear doctors\nbusily operating on meek-faced patrons; unknown fruits and vegetables,\ncostly wares and curious trinkets; omnipresent female chattels and\nmoral and physical lepers jostle one another. One peep into an inner\nchamber, and with the sickening fumes of opium in his nostrils Reuben\nseeks the outer air. But hark! in this fantastic jumble surely he hears\nfamiliar voices. Following the sound through a seemingly endless maze\nof dark alleys, he suddenly stops in a small room gaudy with Oriental\nhangings. Even in the semi-darkness Reuben sees that there are three\nfigures; one, that of a young woman, an Oriental, in an attitude of\nperfect abandon. She utters no word, but the smile from her eyes causes\nReuben\u2019s to fall in horror. The air clears a little and the two other\nfigures are visible--Granny and Hernando! The latter\u2019s head is bowed in\nshame. Reuben is shocked at the lines of dissipation in his face and to\nsee how thickly sprinkled with gray is his hair--\u201cStrange!\u201d he thought,\nthat he had not before noticed it.\n\nGranny is pleading with him to forsake this den of depravity. Her hand\nis clasping his and those old, stern lines have melted into a smile of\nineffable sweetness. The air is heavy and her voice not always audible,\nbut Reuben hears:\n\n\u201cBlessed is the man that endureth temptation: for when he is tried, he\nshall receive the crown of life which the Lord hath promised to them\nthat love him....\n\n\u201cBut every man is tempted, when he is drawn away of his own lust, and\nenticed.\n\n\u201cThen when lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin: and sin, when it\nis finished, bringeth forth death.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have had a bad dream, Reuben.\u201d\n\nThe gray light of early morning peeped into the room, filling every\nnook and corner with the weirdness of unreality. Reuben looked vaguely\nat Hernando, lying quietly with an inscrutable smile on his face. He\nraised himself in his chair. Sure enough, there were the lines of\ndissipation and gray hairs! \u201c\u2019Deed, Massa, I has so!\u201d he replied, as he\nwent to replenish the fire.\n\n\u201cSurely, Reuben, you don\u2019t believe in dreams!\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019se boun\u2019 ter, Massa; didn\u2019t Joseph\u2019s and Pharaoh\u2019s come true?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is a disputed question. I don\u2019t believe that people now-a-days\ndream dreams that have no connection with, or some proportion to their\nwaking knowledge.\u201d\n\n\u201cMebbe so, Massa, but when Massa John was so dreffel sick down in\nMissouri, Massa Murphy\u2019s dog howled t\u2019ree times befo\u2019 de do\u2019. I\nsho\u2019ly did b\u2019lieve de Good Laud wanted Massa John Lauzee, how I did go\ntrompin\u2019 troo de grass aftah dat dog! Listen, Massa, aftah a-chasin\u2019\ndat dog laster time, I sat down by Massa John\u2019s bed feelin\u2019 po\u2019ful\nsad, an\u2019 I dreampt he was dead an\u2019 I watchin\u2019 in great tribilation of\nspirit. I done t\u2019ink de Good Laud didn\u2019t hearken to de moans an\u2019 groans\nob dis po\u2019 niggah. Seemed like I\u2019d go plum \u2019stracted. My \u2019tention was\n\u2019tracted by a bright an\u2019 shinin\u2019 light an\u2019 outen it came a still, small\nvoice: \u2018Reuben, yo\u2019 Massa will live, an\u2019 yo\u2019, not I, have saved his\nlife.\u2019 Massa Hernando, dem\u2019s de berry words ob Doctor Hoff when de\nfever turned. Yes, Massa, I\u2019se boun\u2019 ter b\u2019leeve dat when de Good Laud\nhas a message fo\u2019 us, He\u2019ll mebbe give it in a dream.\u201d\n\n\u201cReuben!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, Massa.\u201d\n\n\u201cA drink, please.\u201d\n\n\u201cReuben!\u201d there was a quaver in his voice now.\n\n\u201cYes, Massa.\u201d\n\n\u201cReuben, my friend!\u201d and--Hernando did not ask Reuben his dream.\nHernando stirred uneasily, and presently raised himself on his elbow\nonly to fall back with a groan. Instantly Reuben was beside him asking\nhow he felt.\n\n\u201cFirst rate when I lie still, but the instant I attempt to get up my\nback seems broken.\u201d\n\nHis face indicated that he was anything but well, and his voice sounded\nthick.\n\n\u201cIs yoah throat soah?\u201d Reuben inquired.\n\n\u201cNot exactly sore. It feels as if it were not a part of my own anatomy.\u201d\n\nReuben asked Hernando a few questions, examined his throat and quietly\nsaid he\u2019d better go for a doctor. \u201cBut first let me bring yo\u2019 a cup of\ncoffee,\u201d he added.\n\nMargaret was in the kitchen, and with her assistance the coffee was\nsoon ready and, after first making sure that everything was all right,\nReuben closed and locked the door behind him and went to summon the\ndoctor.\n\nBefore long the doctor came; good, genial Doctor Brinton whom every one\nloved.\n\n\u201cHello, Young Nevada!\u201d was his breezy greeting. \u201cWhat new disease have\nyou introduced into our valley? Reuben, my good fellow, hand me my bag.\u201d\n\nIt was brought.\n\n\u201cYou feel as if you\u2019d been licked, my boy,\u201d he said gaily as he felt\nthe swollen glands in Hernando\u2019s throat. \u201cBeen among the miners lately?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo. Uncle warned me that many were sick with diphtheria.\u201d\n\n\u201cAll the same, you have a suspicious-looking throat, my boy,\u201d replied\nthe doctor gravely.\n\n\u201cDo you think it diphtheria?\u201d Hernando inquired anxiously.\n\nDr. Brinton looked puzzled. Plainly this was not diphtheria, as during\nthe night his temperature must undoubtedly have been high.\n\n\u201cA nasty throat, but what the deuce is the matter with the boy anyway!\u201d\nhe inwardly commented, then turning to Hernando said, \u201cYour throat\nlooks uncommonly like it, but your symptoms are not all such. Never\nmind though, Reuben here is worth ten doctors, so you are all right.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut the whole family would be infected.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot by a jug-full! A germ cannot live long under Reuben\u2019s ruthless\ndestruction.\u201d\n\nBidding the latter follow him to the sleigh for some disinfectants, Dr.\nBrinton went out, and when beyond hearing, said: \u201cReuben, my man, all\nyour skill will be needed if we pull that fellow through. The action\nof his heart is decidedly bad. Stimulants, nutritious food and good\nnursing will do more than I can. Frankly, I never before saw a case\nexactly like this and am not at all sure it is diphtheria.\u201d He then\nwent in search of Mr. De Vere.\n\nThe latter was shocked, and of course everything in the house was\nplaced at Dr. Brinton\u2019s disposal.\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d said the doctor, \u201can ounce of prevention--you know. This may\nbe diphtheria, and it may not. In any case it\u2019s best to be on the safe\nside. I don\u2019t go much on religion, as you know, so am frank to say that\nI think the Lord made a mistake when he put a black body on that white\nsoul. When \u2018Gabriel sounds his trump\u2019 for me I should feel safe with\nReuben to pilot the way.\u201d\n\nMr. De Vere\u2019s eyes grew dim.\n\n\u201cAnd,\u201d the doctor added, \u201chis word is law in this case. No one but he\ngoes into that room; nothing comes out but through him.\u201d And Doctor\nBrinton drove off singing\n\n  \u201cThere is a happy land--\u201d\n\nIt proved indeed a serious case. Hernando\u2019s heart, never very strong,\nunder the action of this insidious poison and a restless spirit came\nvery near failing altogether. But once more the eternal vigilance and\nconscientious care of Reuben assisted Nature and she conquered, and the\nwork of repair progressed steadily. Dainty trays tempted the feeble\nappetite. Reuben prepared them himself and each one was a surprise.\nSomehow he knew just what he liked, to Hernando\u2019s surprise.\n\nAll the family vied with one another in making him comfortable.\nMr. De Vere kept him posted in regard to the mine, the articles of\nincorporation, and said that operations were to begin in March. He did\nnot tell him that they were waiting for him to be ready, but Hernando\nguessed it and exerted himself to regain strength as much as he was\nallowed.\n\nOne day Mr. De Vere announced that the mythical Valley Railroad was\nto materialize. The company had been chartered the week previous in\nNew York City with Mr. Valentine Mills as treasurer. A contract had\nbeen made with the banking house of Cobb, Hoover and Company of the\nlast-named city to sell the railroad stock, and the bonds were going\nlike hot cakes, so the company felt itself warranted in beginning work\nat once.\n\nMr. De Vere also told him that Elisha Vedder, a young civil engineer\nof St. Louis, through his recommendation, was to arrive the following\nweek and survey the route, which seemed a feasible one, and better in\nrespect to grades than the company anticipated. The need of the gold\nmine had been heralded abroad, and outsiders also were clamoring for\nrailway facilities.\n\nGenung was jubilant, and his daily visits to Hernando, now out of\nquarantine, only increased that young man\u2019s impatience to be actively\nengaged with the others in this great enterprise.\n\nGranny had long since taken him under her wing. His deference to her\nopinions, and old-fashioned chivalry to all women, completely won her.\nThere existed a strong attachment between them. She would sit by the\nhour in his room recounting adventures of pioneer days and her vivid\npictures interested him intensely. She possessed an inexhaustible fund\nof them; her memory never deceived, and she regarded the slightest\ndeviation from the exact truth as criminal.\n\n\u201cWhere is Miss Eletheer?\u201d Hernando inquired of her after she had just\nfinished a most interesting story. \u201cI have not seen her since dinner.\u201d\n\n\u201cCall the child by her plain name. She has gone daft over that mine\nand very likely is there. Celeste!\u201d she called, \u201ccome and sing for\nHernando. He is lonesome.\u201d\n\nHernando protested, but the sight of Celeste\u2019s sweet face quieted all\nremonstrance. She flitted in gaily with her guitar, and Hernando would\nhave been an exception to most of his sex had he not bowed in adoration\nbefore this beautiful creature.\n\nMusic had no charm for Granny so she left them to enjoy it by\nthemselves.\n\nOne tiny slippered foot peeped from under Celeste\u2019s skirts and rested\nupon the guitar case, while her slender white fingers wandered dreamily\nover the strings.\n\n\u201cWhat shall I sing for you,\u201d she asked, \u201csomething gay or something\nsad?\u201d\n\n\u201cAnything will please me, only stop before you are tired.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet me see,\u201d she said with one of her rare smiles. \u201cHernando is a\nSpanish name. Now close your eyes and imagine yourself a wee boy, while\nI sing you to sleep.\u201d\n\nTouching the strings gently, they responded with a rocking motion and\nher voice rose and fell in the words of an old Spanish Folk Song:\n\n  \u201cLittle shoes are sold at the gateway of Heaven\n   And to all the tattered little angels are given.\n   Slumber, my darling, slumber, my darling,\n   Slumber, my darling do-do,\n   Dodo--Dodo--\n   Ave Maria--Dodo.\u201d\n\nMany, many times before had Hernando heard it; but now, to the instinct\nof motherhood in the breast of all true women were added the exact\nintonation and subtle potential moods of the artiste. Hernando\u2019s keen\nmusical feelings revelled in the liquid notes of the singer\u2019s voice so\nperfectly attuned to the throbbing strings.\n\n  \u201cLittle shoes are sold at the gateway of Heaven\n   And to all the tattered little angels are given,\u201d\n\nsang Celeste.\n\nHer listener turned and looked at her with her figure silhouetted\nagainst the glowing western sky, not a line of her exquisitely moulded\nproportions escaping him.\n\n  \u201cSlumber, my darling Dodo,\n   Dodo--dodo--\u201d\n\nFrom what chamber in his memory does that echo come? What is this\nindescribable something that courses like fire through his veins?\nWith that curious double consciousness which sometimes comes to us\nin tense moments, Hernando\u2019s mind is thousands of miles away. From\nthe tumultuous life of mining camps, he is travelling down, down to\nthe very seething cauldron of nether life; that pest-house of thought\nfilled with the \u201cmoanings of spirit.\u201d\n\n  \u201cDodo, dodo\n   Ave Maria--Dodo,\u201d\n\nechoed the sweet voice. That awful picture fades away and Hernando sees\na golden-haired child in a snowy crib. Can that cherub be the prophecy\nof what has just vanished? No! No! a thousand times no! There sits the\nchild\u2019s mother beside him. Yes, distinctly the baby voice says: \u201cSing\nme to sleep, mother.\u201d Her great brown eyes soften as only a mother\u2019s\ncan. She, too, holds a guitar. She, too, is singing:\n\n  \u201cSlumber, my darling dodo,\n   Dodo--Dodo\n   Ave Maria--Dodo.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy singing evidently has not what Doctor Brinton would call a\n\u2018soothing effect\u2019 upon you,\u201d Celeste laughed, putting aside her guitar.\n\u201cI must devise other means for entertainment. I have it; let me read\nyour palm.\u201d\n\nHernando hesitated but resistance was futile and he held toward her a\nshapely white hand.\n\nShe looked at it fixedly for a few seconds while the color came and\nwent in her perfect face. Twice she essayed to speak, but as quickly\nthe coral lips closed without a sound.\n\n\u201cLet me see the right hand.\u201d\n\nHe did so. Another long scrutiny.\n\n\u201cWell!\u201d he said, \u201cI\u2019ve dabbled a little in palmistry, myself. Let me\nhelp you. Life line broken in both hands at about the age of thirty.\nDeath by accident. Don\u2019t hesitate. What is my calling?\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course we don\u2019t believe it,\u201d she said, reassured by his laugh, \u201cbut\ntruly, yours is the hand of an evangelist!\u201d\n\n\u201cPlease tell that to Granny.\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed, no! Granny thinks fortune-telling dreadfully wicked.\u201d\n\n\u201cStill she believes in dreams?\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is something strange about Granny. She really has premonitions.\nMuch as father taboos everything bordering on the supernatural he\nalways is guided by her advice on every new undertaking.\u201d\n\n\u201cVery natural as she is his mother and also a level-headed woman; a\nreally remarkable one. But please go on. An evangelist--?\u201d\n\n\u201cShould be,\u201d she corrected; \u201cbut something interferes.\u201d\n\n\u201cDeath, probably, as my life line is broken in both hands; then, too,\nthe \u2018good die young.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is a curious hand,\u201d she stammered. \u201cI don\u2019t know much about\npalmistry anyway.\u201d\n\n\u201cShall I ever marry?\u201d the tone was one of genuine interest now.\n\n\u201cThere is a line of marriage but it is slightly curved upward.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd that indicates?\u201d\n\n\u201cSome obstacle in the way.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy broken life line again, Miss Celeste!\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d she said. \u201cThere is some other reason.\u201d\n\n\u201cAn all-round disappointing hand, I infer,\u201d he laughed. \u201cBut come. I\u2019ll\nread your hand.\u201d\n\nHe took the frail little member in his own and with difficulty resisted\nthe impulse to raise it to his lips.\n\n\u201cA lucky hand,\u201d he begins, \u201cbroad and plump at the base as every\nwoman\u2019s should be; thumb not too large, which also is eminently\ncorrect. Life line long, clear and unbroken; head line indicates that\nyour life will be guided by good judgment. Heart line\u201d--here Reuben\u2019s\nstep was heard ascending the stairs and shortly he appeared in the\ndoorway with Hernando\u2019s supper.\n\nCeleste had quickly withdrawn her hand and Hernando was a trifle\npaler. \u201cSupper!\u201d Celeste exclaimed, as she fluttered out, \u201cis supper\nready?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, Honey!\u201d And Celeste wondered why Reuben\u2019s tone was so tender.\n\nSeating himself before the window, Reuben unfolded the evening paper to\nthe locals and was about to begin reading aloud when Hernando seized\nthe paper and flung it from him. But this mood did not last long and\nthen a demon took possession of him. What right had that black man to\ndictate terms to him, what was the awful occult power which enabled\nhim to read the very thought of one\u2019s inmost soul and wield that power\nwith such unerring certainty! He clenched his fists until the nails\ncut into the flesh but words refused to come. His good angel seemed to\ndesert him. Striding across the room, he stood before Reuben, twitching\nwith passion. \u201cSpeak! say something, anything or I\u2019ll go mad!\u201d he said\nhoarsely.\n\n\u201cDere aint nuthin\u2019 to say, Massa.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat are you going to do?\u201d\n\n\u201cNuthin\u2019! Massa.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen I will!\u201d\n\n\u201cDe good Lawd won\u2019t let yo\u2019, Massa. He allers take ca\u2019e o\u2019 His chillen.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe does, does He?\u201d Hernando sneered.\n\n  \u201cO Thou, who man of baser earth did\u2019st make,\n  \u201cAnd ev\u2019n with Paradise devise the snake,\n  \u201cFor all the sins with which the face of man is black\u2019ned\n  \u201cMan\u2019s forgiveness give--and take.\u201d\n\n\u201cCan\u2019t say \u2019bout dat, Massa; but when de good Lawd sends me a message\nI\u2019s boun\u2019 ter do His bidden.\u201d And as he arose and faced his questioner\nlike a great watch-dog at bay, Hernando did not doubt his ability to\ndo so. He made no reply to Reuben\u2019s last remark; had unconsciously\nquailed before such bull-dog ferocity in \u201cgentle, patient Reuben.\u201d\nHe looked up the mountain side until his gaze rested on the rocks\nabout \u201cOld Ninety-Nine.\u201d It was one of those magical nights in late\nwinter when grim Time seems making a final effort to rejuvenate, each\nrock and frost-bound tree glittering with gems, while over his hoary\nhead is flung the soft veil of moonlight. \u201cNature, they tell us,\u201d he\nmused, \u201cis a harmonious expression of divine will, and human nature\nis the crowning masterpiece; that her laws are just, and she does not\ndiscriminate between transgressing a physical and a moral one; that\njustice is ultimately done; but\n\n  \u2018\u2019Tis education moulds the common mind,\n   Just as the twig is bent the tree\u2019s inclined.\u2019\u201d\n\nNot yet had he mastered the teaching lately given by an eminent\nprofessor in one of our eastern universities: \u201cWhile science has in\npast years been disclosing to us the evolution of worlds, while it has\nbeen explaining the evolution of life, it is now beginning to tell\nus of the evolution of mind. While it has found a sufficient cause\nfor the evolution of worlds in the physical laws of nature, while it\nhas found the efficient cause of the evolution of life in the laws\nof strife and struggle for existence, it is beginning to recognize\nto-day that the only law under which is possible the evolution of\nmind and soul is the law which was disclosed two thousand years ago\nby the lowly Nazarene--faith, hope and love, and greatest of these is\nlove.\u201d Had he rightly interpreted the message of this \u201clowly Nazarene,\u201d\nthis misdirected creature of circumstances would have seen that\nGod\u2019s laws are Nature\u2019s laws. As a man sows, so he reaps, not \u201cfigs\nfrom thistles,\u201d nor harmony from discord. As Hernando stood here in\nthe window, a strange peace came over him. Did he suspect that this\nrenunciation was a pivotal point in his life? Did he faintly discern\nthat nothing else than law, love was the command, \u201cWork out your own\nsalvation in fear and trembling,\u201d assured that, as Emerson so truly\nsaid: \u201cThere is a guidance for each of us and by lowly listening we\nshall hear the right word.\u201d\n\nHernando turned to speak to Reuben but he was alone. Sounds from below\nindicated that Granny was coming to bed, and soon her feeble footsteps\nwere heard ascending the stairs. She leaned heavily on her son\u2019s arm\nand, on reaching her room, seemed completely exhausted. No stimulant\nhad ever passed her lips, and now she sternly declined the glass of\nwine proffered by Mr. De Vere, saying she had not arrived at the age of\neighty-seven to first taste the cup of poison.\n\n\u201cBut, mother,\u201d her son protested, \u201cyou are breathless. Stimulants are\nall right in their place. I insist on your taking this.\u201d\n\n\u201cJohn!\u201d\n\nMr. De Vere beat a hasty retreat and called Eletheer.\n\nOf late Granny had been steadily but surely failing, her usually severe\nmanner replaced by one peculiarly gentle, and Eletheer noticed with\ndelight how softened in Granny\u2019s eyes had become her own many faults.\nTo-night she looked seriously ill, and after the exertion of disrobing\nand preparing for the night was over, she fell back panting on her\npillow.\n\nEletheer, really frightened, wanted to send for the doctor, but her\ngrandmother strenuously objected and requested that some boneset\ntea be warmed over. She sipped it in silence and handing Eletheer\nthe emptied cup said: \u201cNever neglect gathering your yearly supply of\nboneset. It is a wonderful bracer. Now see if Hernando would like to\njoin us during our reading of the portion of the Scripture. They have\ncompany downstairs and the poor boy is all alone.\u201d\n\nEletheer obeyed, but her hands shook as she adjusted the easy-chair for\nhim and he adroitly reached for the well-worn Bible with \u201cWhat shall we\nread, Granny?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou may choose to-night, my boy.\u201d\n\nHe drew a little nearer the bed and opening the book at random began:\n\u201cMy brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations.\u201d\n\nEletheer started. That chapter, as familiar as the multiplication\ntable, somehow sounded different.\n\n\u201cIf any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men\nliberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him.\n\n\u201cBut let him ask in faith, nothing wavering; for he that wavereth is\nlike a wave of the sea driven with the wind and tossed.\u201d\n\nHernando read on to the last verse and then Granny\u2019s feeble voice\njoined his: \u201cPure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is\nthis, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to\nkeep himself unspotted from the world.\u201d\n\nHe closed and replaced the Bible on the table and rose to say\ngood-night, when the old lady expressed a wish to speak with him alone\nand Eletheer vanished into the hall. \u201cHernando,\u201d said Granny, when\nhe had closed the door and was again seated by the bed, \u201cmy days are\nnumbered. Nearly a score more than man\u2019s allotted time has been granted\nme and now I am ready to go. I have never discussed doctrinal questions\nwith you, but blood tells and any one in whose veins flows the good old\nblood of the Genungs cannot be without the fold. My boy, I am an old\nwoman, let me assure you that God is an ever present friend in time of\nneed, He will never leave nor forsake you.\u201d She waited an instant,\nevidently expecting him to speak, but as he did not do so, went on. \u201cI\nhave noticed Eletheer\u2019s affection for you, have encouraged her to go\nto you for instructions on the different questions which I have been\nunable to make clear. It has been my aim to thoroughly ground her in\nthe tenets of the church in which I was reared, and while I cannot\nbelieve the child wilfully in error, she must be deluded. The Bible\nfrom which you read to-night is hers when I need it no longer. Help her\nto find the \u2018straight and narrow way.\u2019\u201d Her voice sank with weariness\nas she ceased speaking and Hernando hastily held a glass of water to\nher lips with shaking hand. She drank a few swallows and then asked\nfor the boneset tea. It was already prepared as the bowl from which\nEletheer had taken some still remained in the hot ashes, and Granny\nsoon said she felt stronger.\n\nHernando knelt beside her. He was breathing heavily and a trembling\nold hand felt for his own. How long he knelt there was never quite\nclear--it might have been five minutes or it might have been hours.\nThe beating of his heart was almost choking him. He felt her fingers\ntighten their hold. \u201cGranny,\u201d he began huskily, \u201cyou are the only\ngrandmother I have ever known.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen prove it by believing me loyal.\u201d\n\n\u201cI do believe it but you would not understand were I to tell you what\nis on my heart.\u201d\n\n\u201cI would try to.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet us suppose a case, a man whose environment and heredity--on one\nside at any rate--are morally debilitating. Alas! He knows the seamy\nside of life, has drunk to the full the cup of pleasure and found dregs\nat the bottom. Yet he does not realize the depths of degradation into\nwhich he has fallen, is simply doing as others before him have done\nand are still doing. Circumstances place him amid totally different\nsurroundings. He is an honored member of a Christian household, a\nhousehold where naught but good abides. One among them is a woman, such\na one as he never believed lived outside of dreams and that man loves\nher. Yes, that\u2019s it, loves her! At last he has found what his hungry\nheart craves. He forgets the past--God knows he prayed to do so--and\nlives only in the present with its promises, playing with temptation.\nAnd, Granny, that woman is your granddaughter, Celeste.\u201d\n\nAn inaudible sob escaped him as he caught for breath. Granny turned and\nlooked at him, but felt her tongue arrested.\n\nPoor Granny, she to whom weakness was sin, who, by thought, word or act\nhad never been known to show the slightest mercy toward a transgressor\nof this unwritten moral law! A clock somewhere in the house struck two,\n\u201cthat magic hour when all time seems to stand still.\u201d The lamp burned\nlow, flickered and went out. From the deep bed of coals on the hearth,\na spark would now and then flash forth filling the room with shadows.\nThere were these two souls, one, a weary pilgrim whose struggles with\nthis world were almost ended and ready to attest, \u201cI have lived, seen\nGod\u2019s hand through a lifetime, and all was for the best\u201d; the other a\nman, a misguided human being brought face to face with himself. Once\nagain was the \u201cveil of the temple rent\u201d and in the Holy of Holies these\ntwo made sacrifice each for himself.\n\nMorning found Granny no better, too weak to rise and she tried in vain\nto eat her dainty breakfast. Each effort left her exhausted, and almost\ndiscouraged. Eletheer had to be content with seeing her take a few\nswallows of coffee.\n\nDoctor Brinton, who had been summoned early, looked grave but could\nonly economize the forces of nature and wait.\n\nStimulants were flatly refused by the old lady. Pleadings availed\nnothing. Deception was impossible and she gradually became weaker and\nweaker until at last, with mental faculties clear, her earthly lamp\nwent out.\n\nThose who have known the influence for good in a household of a\ngrandmother like this one will understand how deserted the house\nseemed. Religious bigot she may have been, yet she was an honest one\nand her example of earnestness of purpose, strict integrity and\nstaunch friendship may well be emulated. She had tried to do as she\nwished to be done by, died as she had lived--an example of the faith\nshe professed.\n\nIn real life, one\u2019s environment is practical and when what one most\nloves is snatched from one, he must still carry on his part in the\nround of life. One precious belonging after another of Granny\u2019s was\ntenderly put away and though no more would her feeble footstep be heard\nabout the house, the good seed sown by her had not fallen on barren\nsoil.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\n\nBy March, all at the mine was in readiness, every vacant house in\nNootwyck rented and many rough ones were in course of construction on\nthe mountain side. Mills was one of the first to visit the works and\noffer congratulations. \u201cYour mine is apparently inexhaustible,\u201d he said\nto Mr. De Vere, \u201cand Nootwyck bids fair to fulfill your hopes. Every\nfoot of ground within ten miles of the mine is staked out in claims\nand there is not an idle man in the town. I rejoice with you. God\nhas answered our prayers, may He indeed grant that this valley shall\nblossom as the rose,\u201d and he stroked his beard reverently.\n\nMr. De Vere could not conceal a smile as he replied, \u201cUndoubtedly, God\nis good, but Hernando Genung has a hand in this job.\u201d\n\n\u201cHis ways are inscrutable, and unworthy means are sometimes used to\naccomplish a blessing,\u201d said Mills softly, and De Vere who was looking\ntoward the village, did not see his look of hatred and revenge. \u201cI fail\nto see that application here,\u201d said Mr. De Vere.\n\n\u201cIt is not necessary that you do. Pardon me for even hinting at the\npast of one who is deemed worthy to be an instrument for good in the\nhands of our Heavenly Father.\u201d\n\nWe always judge others by our own standard. Incapable of baseness\nhimself, Mr. De Vere never suspected it in others. He was greatly\nattached to Hernando, and this imputation on his character nettled him,\nbut he soon forgot it.\n\nA large force of men was busy at the smelting and reduction works which\nwere to be located at the foot of the mountains. Ore could be brought\ndown in chutes. Work at the coal mines had been resumed, a track to\nthem was nearly completed and fuel from there could be sent down to the\nworks at slight expense.\n\nHernando\u2019s training and experience among mines pre-eminently fitted\nhim for the position he now occupied, and work under his intelligent\nsupervision progressed rapidly, and soon the crushers indicated that\nthe mills were in operation.\n\nAt last the rails were laid to Nootwyck, and the village was in the\nbuzz of excitement. From all along the route people assembled to\ncelebrate the arrival of the incoming train, which was loaded with\nprospectors and new inhabitants. Mills was on the train and his\nuniformly gracious manner won him the good-will of these honest people.\n\nThe depot, which was to be a handsome structure, was under way, but a\nrude shanty answered the purpose now.\n\nAs the train swerved around a curve a shout went up, such as had not\nresounded in this peaceful valley since the days when they cheered,\n\u201cTaxation of America.\u201d\n\nMills sprang to the platform, shaking hands right and left and dilating\nupon the future of the valley. He took a carriage for Wawarsing, where\nthe next section of men was ballasting, and further still, Elisha\nVedder with his skilled assistants was pushing on.\n\nElisha Vedder was now a member of the De Vere household, and in the\ngreat handsome fellow, with his hearty manner and big heart, Mr. De\nVere saw simply the development of noble traits shown years ago in\nMissouri. Under his skillful management, the road promised to be\ncompleted by fall. Mills\u2019s manner towards him was straight-forward. He\nwas keen enough to perceive that this great-hearted, honest engineer\nwould tolerate nothing but the best methods in making the road a\nsuccess, and any economical schemes he might propose must be supported\nby proof as to their sufficiency. Elisha knew exactly what the cost\nof putting this road through would be, and intended that every dollar\nof the company\u2019s funds should be honestly expended. Toward Mills his\nmanner was respectful, but the latter realized that, as one of the\ndirectors, no manipulation of books nor watering of stock would be\ntolerated. Then too, he was backed by one of the richest mine owners in\nthe State, who considered his honor much more precious than all the\ntreasures of earth combined.\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d thought Mills, with a look of malicious triumph, \u201cyou discovered\nthe mine, but those precious jewels are simply the product of Benny\nDepuy\u2019s distorted imagination, are they? Hernando Genung, have a care,\nthat old score is still unsettled. Would you adorn the fair Celeste\nwith those sparkling gems? She would grace them, but there is a sequel\nto this matter.\u201d\n\nHis inspection over, he was about to re-enter his carriage when Vedder\ninquired the prospects for running a branch through to connect with the\nUlster and Delaware.\n\n\u201cRather dubious,\u201d Mills replied. \u201cAll the way up hill, and what is the\ncountry to be opened up worth?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe cost, in my estimation, need not be so great. The route beyond\nHonk Falls is a natural grade and one of the most beautiful in the\nUnited States. Its historical interests would attract thousands,\u201d\nVedder replied earnestly.\n\n\u201cTrue, Shandaken claims the honor of owning the highest peak of the\nCatskills. Slide Mountain has, I believe, an altitude of four thousand\nfeet. I understand that the view from it is marvelous; that the trees\nare so stunted by heavy snows that their flattened branches appear like\na table from which one can look down and off on a vast amphitheater\nof rocks, trout streams and picturesque hamlets. But scenery is not a\ntangible commodity, and the people regard the project as a wild-cat\nscheme.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat section of the country is one of the driest atmospheric belts\nin the State and its healthfulness is an accepted fact. This with\nits magnificent forests and undoubted mineral deposits would, in my\nestimation, warrant running a branch through.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh! well, let us complete this one before we agitate that.\u201d And with a\ngay laugh he sprang into his carriage and was off for Kingston.\n\nHernando and Elisha were mutually attracted toward each other from the\nfirst. One true nature instinctively understands another, and the two\nyoung men were naturally thrown together a great deal.\n\nAt Mrs. De Vere\u2019s earnest solicitation, Hernando shared Elisha\u2019s\nroom--the one which had been Granny\u2019s. One year of unparalleled\nprosperity in this locality had rolled by. The output from the mine\nhad been such as to stir the hearts of all true miners. Nootwyck would\nsoon be incorporated as a city, and Mills\u2019s doubts in regard to the\nwisdom of a branch to meet the Ulster and Delaware at Big Indian were\nunheeded. In fact the road was already under way and the stock sold.\nPeople went wild with excitement. Mills smiled urbanely but said\nnothing. Elisha, as chief engineer, was in his element and his work\nbespoke intimate acquaintance with and mastery of the intricacies of\nrailway engineering.\n\nIt was Saturday night in the last of March. The air was full of snow;\nthat kind which falls in such minute flakes that one is sure of plenty\nmore in reserve. Elisha and Hernando were squaring the week\u2019s accounts\nin their room before going to bed, and they represented two distinct\ntypes. Elisha was strangely nervous. Again and again was the same\ncolumn of figures added, but no result followed. Hernando laughed aloud\nand said: \u201cVedder, old man, your method of addition seems to give\nunsatisfactory results and your wits are apparently wool-gathering.\u201d\n\nElisha threw himself helplessly into a chair but made no reply.\n\n\u201cCome, out with it, make me your father confessor,\u201d said Hernando with\na look of such genuine interest that Elisha replied: \u201cI meant to have\ntaken you into my confidence before, but there are some events in one\u2019s\nlife too sacred to mention.\u201d\n\nHernando was looking intently into the fire. \u201cI am grateful for all\nconfidences,\u201d he answered, \u201cand especially those of a friend.\u201d\n\n\u201cHave you seen my devotion to Celeste?\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019d be blind if I hadn\u2019t,\u201d returned Hernando quietly.\n\n\u201cHonestly, Hernando, do you think I am worthy to become the husband of\nthat angel?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cCan you wonder that her promise, given to-night, to accept me as such\nsends my wits \u2018wool-gathering\u2019?\u201d\n\nHernando grasped his friend\u2019s hand and wrung it warmly, but in silence.\n\n\u201cDo you know,\u201d Elisha went on with his eyes on the floor, \u201cI have\nsometimes thought that you cared for her and I did not wish to cast a\nstraw in your way, so waited this long to speak for that reason.\u201d\n\n\u201cI should never have asked her to be my wife,\u201d said Hernando, in a\nvoice so unlike his own that Elisha looked quickly into his face, \u201cand\nthe fact of her having accepted you proves her heart is yours. No,\nVedder, I congratulate you and from the bottom of my heart wish you the\nhappiness so richly deserved.\u201d\n\nThe ice once broken, Elisha unfolded plan after plan for their future,\nlittle dreaming of the misery thereby inflicted on one who would have\nexchanged worlds for the obliteration of one year of his life.\n\n\u201cI reckon you\u2019ll be taking me into your confidence on a like matter,\nsome day, eh, Hernando?\u201d Elisha concluded.\n\n\u201cNever, my friend, there are different roads to happiness.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut you will admit that man alone is but half of himself?\u201d\n\n\u201cIndividually, yes; but collectively man is two-thirds,\u201d he replied\nwith a laugh.\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll forgive you, old man, but let me tell you that you will get\nbravely over all preconceived opinions on love. It is like faith; must\nbe experienced to be understood. So good-night and happy dreams.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\n\nIn the morning the panorama presented was one of unusual beauty. All\nnature was enveloped in snow of the purest white. The flats below were\na dazzling sea in the bright sunlight. The two gaunt pines, through\nwhich the wind had sighed so dismally the night before, now appeared\nlike white-robed sentinels on guard at the gate. The air was balmy\nand the drip, drip, drip of water from the eaves and window-ledges\nproclaimed that this vision of fairyland would be a transient one.\n\nA happy group gathered around the breakfast table. Granny had\ninstructed Margaret in the art of preparing buckwheat cakes and a\nsmoking pile of them soon appeared. Her skill in the culinary art was\nproverbial. No one could make anything taste quite as Margaret could,\nand she was duly proud of her proficiency in this accomplishment.\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d said Mr. De Vere, \u201chow many of us are going to church to-day?\u201d\n\n\u201cFrom the looks of things outside, I infer the congregation will be a\nslim one,\u201d said Jack, helping himself to another pancake.\n\nJust then the soft, sweet warble of a bluebird was heard through the\nopen window, and looking out, they saw on the limb of an apple tree\nthis welcome harbinger of spring, singing his plaintively sweet song.\nWhile they listened, his mate flew over his head and alighted near on\na twig with an audacious flirt, but he kept on singing for fully three\nminutes, then with a dash of snow they flew away.\n\n\u201cTruly spring is not far off,\u201d observed Mr. De Vere, \u201cbut appearances\nindicate that Reuben will need help in shovelling paths.\u201d\n\nMany hands make light work, and Jack, Hernando and Elisha, armed with\nshovels, soon cleared walks to the street, and then turned toward the\nbarn. Suddenly Jack called out, \u201cFather, there is a flock of your old\nfriends.\u201d Twenty or thirty little black-capped birds were fluttering\nnear the back door, calling \u201cchick-a-dee-dee.\u201d Mr. De Vere laughed\nheartily, for they brought to mind a picture of his boyhood days; the\nold school-house in the woods where every known mode of punishment,\nfrom \u201ctoeing the crack\u201d to flogging, was resorted to, making the\nwoods resound with yells. Then on a Friday afternoon after \u201cspelling\ndown,\u201d the grim old schoolmaster produced a well-preserved accordion,\ntilted his chair against the wall and held his unwilling audience by\n\u201cchick-a-dee-dee,\u201d his only tune.\n\nReaching the barn, they found Reuben busily engaged skinning a\nhalf-dozen rabbits which had been caught in his traps the night before,\nand his mouth watered as he thought of rabbit pot-pie with the white\npuffy balls \u201call afloat in brown gravy.\u201d The rabbits had barked several\nyoung fruit trees and committed depredations which made Reuben vow he\nwould exterminate the vandals. As the others came up, he exhibited his\ntrophies and exultantly exclaimed, \u201cDar now, I reckon I\u2019ve settled dem\ntieves.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre they fat?\u201d inquired Mr. De Vere admiringly.\n\n\u201cOnly jes\u2019 tolabl\u2019, Massa John.\u201d\n\nIn the village, the male element of the population seemed intent on\nthe one occupation of shovelling his own individual sidewalk. By noon,\na heavy body of snow had sunk under the warm rays of the sun and the\nstreet was running with slush. Nature was preparing to cast off her\nwinter garments, but in this rugged climate she does so reluctantly. A\nraw wind still blew from the snowy north, but the sun was too high to\nexpect much more cold weather.\n\n\u201cBy the way, Reuben,\u201d called Mr. De Vere, \u201cwhen have you been at the\nmaple bush?\u201d\n\n\u201cEarly dis mawnin\u2019, Massa, an\u2019 de sap buckets was jes\u2019 runnin\u2019 plumb\nfull.\u201d\n\nMr. De Vere owned an orchard of about one hundred acres on the side\nof the mountain. His mother had bought the land for a mere song after\nthe timber had all been burned off by forest fires, and had set it\nout in sugar maples. This was about twenty-five years ago. They had\nbeen nourished and protected until now they were an object of much\nadmiration. Mr. De Vere insisted that there was something human in\nmaples, and it was his rule never to bore them until the proper season\nand then in only one place at a time. The good old days of \u201csugaring\noff\u201d were past and his sugar-house was furnished with the most modern\nappliances.\n\nSunday passed off very quietly. In the evening, Celeste sang and played\nfor them, and as if by common consent, she and Elisha were left in\nundisputed possession of the parlor but not, however, until Jack had\ngiven his sister a knowing look which sent the blood bounding to her\nvery temples, and she was preparing to follow him when Elisha advanced\nquickly to her side, encircling her waist with his great strong arm as\nhe drew her down beside him on the settee.\n\nCeleste felt a trifle awed by this great big fellow who idolized the\nvery ground she trod. Other men had confessed their love for her but\nthis one was different, and when he said, \u201cCeleste, I love you. Will\nyou be my wife?\u201d she knew that in that simple declaration was the\nfidelity of a lifetime.\n\n\u201cCeleste,\u201d said Elisha, \u201cI told Hernando of our engagement, and he\nwishes us every happiness.\u201d\n\n\u201cI wonder if he will ever marry.\u201d\n\n\u201cProbably not,\u201d returned Elisha, \u201che is one of the few men capable of\npurely platonic affection. In his eyes all women are little lower than\nangels,\u201d and Elisha smiled.\n\n\u201cIf he ever does marry, his wife will be very happy,\u201d she said, with a\ncoquettish toss of her head.\n\n\u201cAnd will mine be unhappy?\u201d he asked, pressing his lips to the curly\nhead on his shoulder.\n\n\u201cThat depends,\u201d she said saucily, \u201centirely on your dutifulness.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, Celeste, I have loved you ever since you were a little miss down\nin Missouri,\u201d he said earnestly. \u201cMy prospects are good and I see no\nreason for deferring our marriage until some remote day in the future.\nI feel all the time as if something would snatch you from me. Let our\nwedding day be fixed and at an early date.\u201d\n\nCeleste counted on her fingers but came to no conclusion.\n\n\u201cJack goes to Texas in April, why not let part of our wedding journey\nbe spent in company with him?\u201d said Elisha.\n\nJack\u2019s health had failed during the past year. An annoying cough had\ncaused Doctor Brinton to suggest a trip to the plains of Texas, and he\nintended to start during the last week in April.\n\nCeleste hesitated. To visit Vicksburg and the land of her birth was one\nof the dreams of her life, and now to go with dear brother Jack! Her\neyes sparkled, the sweet lips parted and Elisha had won.\n\nTaking the curly brown head in both his great brown hands, Elisha\nlooked earnestly into her eyes. His heart was too full for words; and\nwith a sigh of perfect content she threw her arms around his neck\nfeeling that under the protection of such love, her way through life\nwould be guarded from every care. Her own unworthiness, her distorted\nviews of the real duties of life, overwhelmed her, and her tone was\nalmost pathetic as she said:\n\n\u201cElisha, you have chosen a helpless partner. I see it all now, my blind\nselfishness and aimless existence. The grand possibilities of life have\nheretofore applied to others, but with your help, I intend to take my\nplace in the arena and together we will fight our battles.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd win them, my darling,\u201d he said, kissing again and again the warm\nred lips so temptingly near his own.\n\nThe thoughtless, pleasure-seeking girl now stood before Elisha\ntransformed into a glorious woman with an earnest purpose. The scales\nhad fallen from her eyes now flashing with new brilliancy. Granny\u2019s\nwords, \u201cNo De Vere is a coward,\u201d proved her not an exception.\n\nIf a tiny cloud crossed their horizon just then, it passed unobserved.\nIn their own radiant happiness, they forgot that there might be misery\nfor others.\n\nInfinite Wisdom has so formed man that through the rift in to-morrow\u2019s\ncloud, he may catch the brightness of to-day, that strength may be\ngiven him to guide his frail bark along the ever-changing current of\nlife\u2019s river. He may know that trials come to him with beneficent\npurpose, and that no one is given more than he can bear.\n\nOn the grave of perverted aims and impulsive desires, Celeste\u2019s \u201cbarren\nfig tree is given another season.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\n\nIt must be apparent to all that some time previous to the discovery of\n\u201cOld Ninety-Nine\u2019s\u201d cave and Mills\u2019s desire to purchase Point Wawanda,\nostensibly for the purpose of erecting on it a sanitarium, the latter\nhad, with a notorious mining expert, secretly prospected on the mining\nclaim and also discovered the cave. His was the knife that had dug free\ngold from the pocket commented on by Hernando and theirs the hands\nwhich had chipped the rocks disclosing the untold richness of the mine.\nThe veritable chest described by Benny Depuy was found under a heap of\nrocks which appeared to have been washed over it. It, too, seemed to\nhave petrified. The hinges and bindings had been eaten away by rust\nand the lid simply slid off disclosing, as Benny had said, \u201cHeaps upon\nheaps of gold, silver and precious stones.\u201d\n\nLike vultures, the two gloated over their discovery and the spoils\nwere equally divided between them. Mills\u2019s eyes gleamed and after\nthe chest had been emptied, he hit it a sounding rap with his hammer\nwhich shattered it into fragments, revealing the secret bottom which\ncontained a parchment yellow with age. He sprang upon it like a cat and\nunfolding the document with shaking hands endeavored to read it.\n\nIt was closely written, apparently in Spanish, and so blurred as to\nbe utterly illegible, but at the bottom was one of those symbolical\npictures which were used as maps by the Esopus Indians. This\nrepresented a bird before a fissure in a mountain. In her beak was a\nlump of metal, apparently, and she was looking down into the crevice\nfrom which evidently had come her treasure. About fifty feet below\nand six hundred feet distant, according to their measurements, wound\na small stream, and from a mountain peak to the south issued what\nappeared to be smoke. Without doubt this was the \u201cOld Ulster Mine.\u201d\n\n\u201cSee,\u201d said Mills, \u201ca bird is the omen of good luck. This crevice is\nvery, very deep and evidently the metal has come from the bottom. Look,\nhere is the head of an Indian. Who knows but that this is the famous\nmine of Unapois? It certainly is not this one, for it is much lower\ndown the mountain side and to the south.\u201d\n\n\u201cSurely this is the Old Ulster,\u201d replied his companion. \u201cYou see, the\nlocation is distinctly that; and true to their racial instincts, the\nIndians are guarding their secret against the restoration to them of\nthe lands of their forefathers.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat a disappointing history that mine has had,\u201d said Mills.\n\n\u201cI confess my complete ignorance as to that. I simply know the mine\nwhen I see it,\u201d returned the miner.\n\n\u201cAbout fifty years ago,\u201d said Mills, \u201ctwo residents were tramping along\nthe base of the mountain when they saw a small piece of sulphurate of\nlead lodged in a rift near a spot where the old drift is located, but\nnothing serious was thought of the matter. Shortly afterward, the\nowner conceived the idea of leading the water from the spring, located\nat the spot where the old workings were afterwards commenced, to his\nhouse by means of a drain-pipe, and while so engaged discovered further\nindications. During the progress of the work, a village lad discovered\na large piece of the ore and took it to the owner who felt so elated\nover it that he presented the boy with a cow. The discovery was soon\nnoised abroad, and coming to the ears of certain New York parties, a\nstock company was formed under the title of the Ulster Lead Mining\nCompany which purchased the land of the owner, and in the following\nspring put up machinery and buildings and commenced drifting. They\ncontinued boring with varying success for something over two years when\nthey suspended for lack of funds.\n\n\u201cFive years later the company recommenced operations and continued the\nwork for a period of three years when it was reorganized under the\ntitle of the Union Lead Mining Company, and five thousand dollars were\nto liquidate all former claims and further the work.\n\n\u201cInformation in regard to their operations is meager as their president\nand superintendent were not from these parts and those living here at\nthat time have forgotten the particulars. It is known, however, that\nduring the latter part of the workings attention was wholly directed\nto extracting sulphate of copper from its bed of clay and that large\nquantities of the material were shipped off for smelting, suitable\nworks for the operation not having been erected here. The company\nceased operations two years afterward and the works have gradually\ndecayed, leaving nothing but the little building once used for an\noffice.\u201d\n\n\u201cThey do not seem to have given a thought to silver,\u201d replied Mills\u2019s\ncompanion.\n\n\u201cYou must remember that the Dutch element prevails in this valley, and\nif a Dutchman started in for extracting lead, he would consider all\nelse in his mine \u2018gangue.\u2019 Intentness of purpose is their national\ncharacteristic.\u201d\n\nBut they must be off before daylight. The fragments of the broken chest\nwere gathered together and the marauders crept stealthily out of the\ncave, dropping the broken chest into a deep hole.\n\nTheir horses were impatiently gnawing the saplings to which they had\nbeen tied near the base of the mountain, and mounting, they rode\ntowards Kerhonkson and thence to Kingston.\n\nWhat to do with the jewels, now that they had them, was a question.\nMills was known to be a man in moderate circumstances, and these jewels\nwere priceless diamonds, rubies and many semi-precious stones, fit\nransom for an emperor. They dare not exhibit them nor dispose of them,\nso they must be placed in some safe deposit and that at once.\n\nArriving at Kingston, they were shown into a room in a hotel in which\nthe attentive servant kindled a fire in the wood stove as the air was\nchilly. After dinner they sat hugging the stove and talking in low\ntones. The mine must be secured, and that as soon as possible, and it\nwas decided that Mills should begin negotiations with Mr. De Vere at\nonce and secure a clear title for the mine on his place, and Mills\u2019s\npartner should bend his energies toward obtaining Old Ulster.\n\n\u201cWhat shall we do with this old document?\u201d Mills inquired, producing\nthe one found in the cave.\n\n\u201cDestroy it,\u201d said the other. \u201cNo one can read it, and anyway, all we\nwant to know is clear.\u201d\n\nMills reflected, but ended in agreeing that it would only be a source\nof anxiety if preserved and, opening the stove door, it, with some\nold letters, was consigned to the flames and the blaze which followed\nassured them that at least one witness against them had been disposed\nof.\n\nNothing now remained for them to do but to go on to New York City,\ncomplete arrangements and deposit the gold and jewels in a place of\nsafety.\n\nHow Mills succeeded with Mr. De Vere is known and when the former\u2019s\naccomplice endeavored to secure the title to \u201cOld Ulster,\u201d he learned\nthat the mine was already in the hands of a new company.\n\nMills secretly regretted having consigned the document so hastily\nto the flames; and could he have seen it, as Dr. Herschel, the next\noccupant of that room in the hotel at Kingston, drew it from the stove,\nevery letter distinct, he would have known that in that asbestos-like\nsheet was a rarer treasure than money or jewels.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\n\nThe last week in April had arrived and in a few days came Celeste\u2019s\nwedding. Hernando was returning from town after a call at his uncle\u2019s\nwhere his cousin Mary Genung was convalescing from typhoid fever.\nEletheer De Vere had been with her and bravely nursed her through.\nEverything seemed strangely quiet, only the sound of the crushers\nbreaking the stillness, and he strolled along so deeply absorbed in\nthought that he did not hear a light footstep behind him, and almost\nstarted when his arm was clasped by slim white fingers and a merry\nvoice said playfully: \u201cThere, you naughty boy, I\u2019m completely out of\nbreath trying to catch up with you.\u201d\n\nIt was Celeste, and she raised her glowing face to his with an\nexpression of mock severity.\n\n\u201cI certainly did not hear you, Celeste,\u201d he replied honestly.\n\nHer hands were full of trailing arbutus which filled the air with its\ndelicious fragrance.\n\n\u201cThen I will forgive you,\u201d she said, pinning a cluster of deep pink\nblossoms on his coat.\n\n\u201cWhat are these beautiful flowers?\u201d he said, smelling of them.\n\n\u201cFor shame!\u201d she exclaimed, \u201cnot to be acquainted with trailing\narbutus. The woods are full of it. Whittier calls it the Mayflower,\nand says, \u2018It was the first flower to greet the Pilgrims after their\nfearful winter,\u2019\u201d and with a happy smile she repeated:\n\n  \u201c\u2018Yet God be praised,\u2019 the Pilgrim said,\n    Who saw the blossoms peer\n    Above the brown leaves, dry and dead,\n   \u2018Behold our Mayflower here.\u2019\n\n   \u201cO sacred flowers of faith and hope,\n    As sweetly now as then,\n    Ye bloom on many a birchen slope,\n    In many a pine-dark glen.\u201d\n\n\u201cI think I have heard Mary speak of them,\u201d said Hernando, \u201cbut I never\nsaw them before.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow is Mary getting on?\u201d\n\n\u201cShe was down stairs to-day for the first time.\u201d\n\n\u201cEletheer really intends to be a nurse,\u201d Celeste said, \u201cbut it must\nmake one become morbid to see so much suffering.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt will never have that effect upon Eletheer,\u201d Hernando said gravely.\n\n\u201cEletheer is eccentric. She always selected her associates from among\nsuch queer people. Mary Genung is the only nice girl she cares\nanything about.\u201d Here Celeste laughed and continued calmly, \u201cLet me\nname a few of her friends: Father Perry, Uncle Mike, the Dugans, every\none of the miners, Pat McGinn, Doctor Brinton and Mary Genung.\u201d\n\nHernando could not resist laughing. \u201cAm I not among them?\u201d he said,\nsobering instantly.\n\n\u201cYou,\u201d and her laugh was infectious. \u201cShe seems to have adopted you.\nSome one made a remark about you which she interpreted as disparaging,\nand he must have felt uneasy under her sarcasm.\u201d\n\n\u201cShe is very loyal to those she cares for.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd those whom she dislikes know it.\u201d\n\nElisha had seen them coming from the piazza and met them at the gate.\nHow tenderly he drew Celeste\u2019s arm within his own and what a world of\ndevotion was pictured in his honest face. Hernando watched them go.\nOnce Celeste looked back. He was smelling the arbutus she had given him.\n\nSupper had been cleared when they arrived, but Margaret never forgot\nthe \u201cchillen\u201d and Celeste, followed by Elisha and Hernando, went\nimmediately to the kitchen.\n\nJack\u2019s health was really in such a condition as to excite apprehension,\nand an inherited weakness of the lungs predisposed him to pulmonary\ntroubles. He had been preparing to enter college, but close application\nto study had completely broken him down, and he was obliged to give\nup the aim of his life, but took the disappointment philosophically\nand when the doctor suggested roughing it on the plains of Texas,\narrangements were immediately made to follow his advice. It was now\nTuesday, and Thursday was the day appointed for Celeste\u2019s marriage.\nJack intended going with them on their wedding journey as far as\nVicksburg, then continuing on alone to Texas. All his preparations were\ncompleted and he anticipated the trip with much pleasure. Elisha seemed\nlike a brother already--indeed all the family received the announcement\nof his wish to make Celeste his wife as a foregone conclusion. The\nwedding was to be a simple one, no one outside of the family being\ninvited, and immediately afterward they were to leave for the South.\n\nJack\u2019s nature was buoyant. Like Celeste, he viewed life from its sunny\nside. Admired, sought after, it is not to be wondered at that his\nnobler traits lay dormant. Mrs. De Vere idolized her only boy and in\nher estimation he possessed not one fault. Hers were the eyes that\ndetected the change in Jack, and in his capacious trunk was packed\nevery comfort for her boy. No one knew of the tears she shed in secret\nand Jack only suspected it. He found Eletheer folding heaps of fleecy\ngarments designed for Celeste\u2019s adornment. They were mysteries to him\nand seeing she was in a hurry, he put on his hat and went out.\n\nThe last article stowed away, Eletheer closed the trunk and went down\ninto the dining-room, and being tired and wishing to be alone, she\nclosed the door and threw herself into a large easy-chair before the\nfire. The night air was chill yet and the fire shed a grateful warmth.\nShe had been seated some minutes before she became aware that she was\nnot the only occupant in the room, and turning her eyes toward the deep\neastern window, she saw Hernando seated among the cushions.\n\n\u201cPardon me,\u201d she exclaimed with a start, \u201cperhaps I intrude.\u201d\n\n\u201cFrom the manner in which the door closed, you will be the one intruded\nupon if I remain.\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t talk nonsense, Hernando. Your presence is never unwelcome. I am\nactually blue and do not wish to infect others.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou would tell me that my stomach is out of order.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhich is undoubtedly true of mine. But in all seriousness, Hernando,\nthat attack of diphtheria you had last winter has left bad effects.\nYour entire countenance is somehow changed and your voice has never\nbeen the same since. For the last three days you have seemed half\nasleep. Reuben is really becoming concerned about your condition.\u201d\n\n\u201cReuben is a noble fellow but somewhat of an alarmist, I fear,\u201d replied\nHernando.\n\n\u201cI understand the meaning of the word \u2018alarmist\u2019 to be \u2018one who\nneedlessly excites alarm\u2019, which certainly does not apply to Reuben,\nand when he says \u2018somethin\u2019 is goin\u2019 to happen,\u2019 it invariably does\nhappen.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is his latest prediction?\u201d Hernando asked with a light laugh.\n\nEletheer could not help smiling in return as she replied: \u201cNothing in\nwords, but his actions indicate that some calamity is impending over\nthis family.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat was it you quoted to me the other day, \u2018Nothing can happen\nto any man that is not a human accident, nor to an ox which is not\naccording to the nature of an ox, nor to a vine which is not according\nto the nature of a vine, nor to a stone which is not proper to a\nstone.\u2019 If then, there happen to each thing both what is usual and\nnatural, why shouldst thou complain, for the common nature brings\nnothing which may not be borne by thee.\u201d\n\nEletheer looked very sober and he continued, \u201cFar be it from me to\ndisparage Reuben, but like all of the colored race he is superstitious.\nYou must not remain so much indoors. Mary\u2019s illness and the preparation\nfor this wedding have made you morbid,\u201d he said, shivering slightly.\n\n\u201cAre you cold?\u201d she asked in some surprise, at the same time poking\nthe fire vigorously. The blaze which followed illuminated the room,\nrevealing Hernando in a vain effort to repress a chill.\n\n\u201cI fear you are ill, Hernando.\u201d\n\nReuben here entered with an armful of wood. His observing eye\nrecognized at a glance the indications of suffering which Hernando\ncould not conceal, and hastily depositing his burden, he returned in\na few minutes with a glass which he handed to Hernando saying, \u201cHeah,\nmy boy, drink dis hot toddy. Yo\u2019 bettah keep out of dat mine. Dampness\nhaint good fo\u2019 rheumatism.\u201d\n\nHernando drank the mixture and with Reuben\u2019s assistance went up to his\nroom. Striking a light, the faithful negro opened the bed and turned to\naid his charge in disrobing. The latter\u2019s face was positively livid.\n\n\u201cI reckon I gave yo\u2019 a po\u2019ful dose, Massa. Yo\u2019 head is ready to pop,\u201d\nsaid Reuben apologetically.\n\n\u201cI do not understand it, Reuben. Of late, stimulants, even in\ninfinitesimal doses, always affect me in this way.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019d bettah put yo\u2019 feet in good hot watah, it will draw de blood from\nyo\u2019 head.\u201d\n\nHernando barely retained an upright position during this operation.\nHe felt literally \u201cdead for sleep.\u201d Reuben kept his own opinion to\nhimself, mentally determining that the next hot toddy should be less\nhastily measured, and he hurried his patient into bed. In less than\nfive minutes Hernando snored loudly, and Reuben thought best to leave\nhim alone; so, after tidying the room, he softly closed the door,\nchiding himself severely for his supposed carelessness, and returned to\nfinish the chores.\n\nEletheer still waited in the dining-room and after being told that\nHernando would probably be all right in the morning, she retired. Not\nso with the faithful Reuben. After attending to the thousand and one\nlittle tasks which he conscientiously and systematically performed, his\npallet was spread by Hernando\u2019s door that he might be ready in case of\nneed. Several times during the night he stealthily crept to Hernando\u2019s\nbedside only to find him in that same heavy sleep.\n\n\u201cDat sleep means somefin,\u201d he soliloquized uneasily; and earlier than\nusual the kitchen fire was kindled and his part of the daily routine\nbegun.\n\nHernando had not stirred, but he breathed more easily and was bathed in\nperspiration. His left arm hung over the edge of the bed and as Reuben\nwith tender solicitude raised it and was about to replace it under the\ncover, the sleeve fell back revealing several small, dry, red spots\nwhich, unlike the adjacent skin, were perfectly dry. Reuben stared.\nThis struck him as unusual. Here the sleeper moved his head slightly to\nthe left and just below the right ear were some more of these spots.\nThese also were perfectly dry. He recollected having heard Hernando\nmention being troubled with \u201cblood-boils.\u201d\n\n\u201cI reckon de hot toddy stirred his blood up, po\u2019 boy. He needs a good\nclarin\u2019 out,\u201d Reuben mentally said, but he felt uneasy and as soon\nas Mr. De Vere was heard stirring, the former knocked at his door\nexpressing a wish that Dr. Brinton be summoned.\n\n\u201cBy all means,\u201d Mr. De Vere said. \u201cDo you think his case serious? What\nkind of a night did your charge pass?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe done slep\u2019 all night, Massa John, and is sleepin\u2019 hard now. The\npo\u2019ful strong toddy might do that, but I \u2019clare, Massa, I jes\u2019 feel\nhe\u2019s dreffel sick.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do you think is the matter?\u201d\n\n\u201cI jes\u2019 dun know.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen we will have a physician settle the question,\u201d replied Mr. De\nVere, stepping to the telephone.\n\n\u201cDr. Brinton is not well,\u201d the answer came. \u201cIs the call imperative?\u201d\n\nOne glance at Reuben\u2019s face and Mr. De Vere answered, \u201cI am sorry to\nlearn that the doctor is sick, but fear we must have medical advice at\nonce. Will he kindly send some one?\u201d\n\nAfter a long pause, Dr. Brinton himself answered. Hernando\u2019s symptoms\nunder Reuben\u2019s dictation were given, and through the \u2019phone, Dr.\nBrinton\u2019s laugh followed by a fit of coughing could be distinctly\nheard. Then he said his assistant would be up immediately after\nbreakfast.\n\n\u201cNow Reuben, my good man, don\u2019t worry any more about it. You know\nhe has malaria--at least he occasionally suffers from febrile\nattacks--and now undoubtedly has taken cold. Your hot toddy will fix\nhim, and if it does not, the doctor will do all necessary,\u201d and he\ndismissed the subject.\n\nMassa John\u2019s will was law for Reuben, and though he could not rid\nhis mind of a feeling of indefinable dread, after another peep into\nHernando\u2019s room he went to assist Margaret in the kitchen.\n\nNine o\u2019clock brought, not Dr. Brinton\u2019s assistant, but Dr. Herschel,\na celebrated dermatologist who was stopping in town for the purpose\nof investigating the climatic conditions at Shushan and the medicinal\nproperties of mineral springs there. He alighted deliberately and\nturned to survey the prospect. Little rivulets of melting snow danced\nmusically down the mountain side, the fresh woody smell from dried\nleaves was wafted to his nostrils, unconsciously his head was thrown\nback to better fill the lungs with this exhilarating air, and he bared\nhis head as if in deference to the Giver of such blessings.\n\nEletheer was watching from an upper window and her heart fluttered as\nshe thought of meeting this great man face to face. \u201cJust like good Dr.\nBrinton,\u201d she said to herself. \u201cNone but the best for our family--but\nHernando is worthy of it. I do wonder what is the matter with him\nanyway. Reuben seems so worried. Dr. Herschel takes his time. Probably\nas his name is made, he does not need to inconvenience himself for the\nsake of others.\u201d\n\nHe raised his eyes to the window before which she sat and seeing her,\nbowed slightly and advanced slowly toward the house.\n\n\u201cSo this is the great scientist,\u201d she said aloud, disappointment\npictured in every lineament of her face--and indeed any casual observer\nwould never give him a second thought. Reuben, always a well-bred\nservant, could barely restrain his impatience, and without waiting for\nthe doctor to ring, he opened the door and unceremoniously ushered him\ninto the library where Mr. De Vere was absorbed in the morning papers.\n\n\u201cDe doctah, Massa,\u201d Reuben announced, immediately ascending to\nHernando\u2019s room.\n\n\u201cAh, good morning, Doctor,\u201d said Mr. De Vere extending his hand.\n\u201cGlorious weather this. Pray be seated.\u201d He drew a great easy-chair\nbefore the western window which overlooked the city and pointing to\nthe blue hills among which lay Shushan, remarked: \u201cLike Hernando, you\ntoo are striving for the betterment of suffering humanity, only on\ndifferent lines.\u201d\n\nDr. Herschel\u2019s glance followed his. His eyes were deep set, but their\ncolor was lost in the brilliancy of the mind which saw through them\nmore than this world of material facts and threw the light of its\ngenius into unexplored regions. Without removing his glance, he said\nin a low, even-toned voice, \u201cI believe you surveyed out that tract of\nland.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, and found it an unsavory job,\u201d Mr. De Vere laughed.\n\nDr. Herschel\u2019s countenance wore no answering smile as he replied:\n\u201cTrue, the stench is almost overpowering, but the waters from\n\u2018Stinking Spring,\u2019 particularly, I believe to possess undoubted\ncurative properties.\u201d\n\n\u201cI sincerely trust they may, but to me that spot is the most obnoxious\non the globe and the poor unfortunate who laved in that water would be\na martyr indeed.\u201d\n\n\u201cAll of us are more or less,\u201d replied the doctor abruptly, \u201cbut time is\npassing, shall I see the patient now?\u201d\n\nReuben\u2019s quick ear caught the question and almost instantly his black\nform appeared in the doorway, and without more ceremony Dr. Herschel\nwas escorted to Hernando\u2019s room. On the way upstairs he touched Reuben\non the shoulder with, \u201cHave you excluded all but yourself?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, sah.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy?\u201d\n\nBy this time, they had entered the room and closed the door.\n\n\u201cKase, Massa, it mout be ketchin\u2019.\u201d\n\n\u201cHave you ever before seen a case like this?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot exac\u2019ly, sah.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow long has he slept like this?\u201d\n\nReuben gave a very correct account of Hernando\u2019s condition since the\nevening previous--not even omitting the toddy, nor to deplore his own\nsupposed carelessness. Not a single symptom was forgotten.\n\nThe physical examination over, during which Hernando remained limp, the\ndoctor again turned to Reuben, \u201cHas he ever spent any time out of the\nUnited States?\u201d\n\nReuben did not know, but felt sure that Mr. De Vere would.\n\n\u201cThat is all then, my good fellow. Let your patient sleep. This is\nan infectious disease, so be very careful to cleanse your hands with\nthis\u201d--handing him a prescription. \u201cUse every precaution which an\nintelligent nurse should.\u201d He then sought Mr. De Vere who anxiously\nawaited his verdict.\n\n\u201cWell?\u201d the latter questioned.\n\nFollowing him into the library, Dr. Herschel expressed a wish that Mr.\nAndrew Genung be sent for.\n\n\u201cWe telephoned him early this morning and I am surprised that he is\nnot here now,\u201d said Mr. De Vere.\n\nEven as he spoke, that gentleman\u2019s portly figure appeared at the\ndoor and after a short greeting, he dropped into a chair, panting\nfor breath, but managed to gasp, \u201cWell, Doctor, we are fortunate in\nobtaining your service. Is our boy\u2019s condition precarious?\u201d\n\n\u201cFirst get your breath,\u201d replied the doctor, \u201cand then my diagnosis\nwill be materially strengthened if you are able to correctly answer a\nfew questions.\u201d\n\nLike all who came within this magnetic man\u2019s influence, the two men\nbefore him, in dread expectancy, instinctively felt themselves in the\npresence of one who has conquered his most dangerous enemy, himself,\nand as a logical sequence, his trained intelligence would be rightly\ndirected. Neither of them, though, appreciated the gentle tact by which\ntheir minds were being prepared for the shock awaiting them. After a\nshort pause, Dr. Herschel asked--\u201cHas your nephew ever passed any time\nout of the United States?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d replied Mr. Genung in some surprise.\n\n\u201cHas he ever married?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe was born and reared in Nevada, I believe. Where educated?\u201d\n\n\u201cSan Francisco.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd probably, like too many young men of that age, Chinatown had its\nattractions.\u201d\n\nMr. Genung\u2019s face became purple with indignation, but his questioner\ndid not flinch, only a look of divine pity came into his face as the\nquestion was repeated.\n\n\u201cPardon me, Dr. Herschel,\u201d Mr. Genung replied, rising and preparing\nto leave, \u201cI fail to see the application of that question to my dear\nnephew\u2019s present condition.\u201d\n\n\u201cVery well,\u201d came the deliberate reply, \u201cyou are not legally obliged to\nanswer, neither is your nephew; but as the latter\u2019s medical adviser and\nwould-be friend, I have a moral right to be enlightened on everything\npertaining to his good. True, the question asked, though a leading\none, is not necessary, for his symptoms are sufficient to expel all\ndoubt; but when a physician diagnoses a case as one heretofore unknown\nin these parts, he naturally likes to substantiate his opinion by all\navailable evidence.\u201d\n\nWith Mr. Genung, family matters were as strictly kept as the Ten\nCommandments, but the doctor\u2019s last remark disturbed him more than he\ncared to admit. Twirling his hat nervously, he said--\u201cSupposing it had.\nWhat if, for one brief year, his habits had not been such as a parent\ncommends--a young man must \u2018sow his wild oats\u2019--how could the knowledge\nof that fact affect your diagnosis?\u201d\n\n\u201cMake it absolutely certain. I have traced similar cases to Chinatown.\nIt is a far too productive soil for the sowing of wild oats. One\nsometimes reaps where he has not sown. The disease is leprosy; but,\ncontrary to the universally accepted belief, a cure has been found.\u201d\n\nDead silence, broken only by a sound of labored breathing, followed\nthis announcement.\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d he continued, \u201c\u2018Old Ninety-Nine\u2019s\u2019 cave contained a rarer\ntreasure than money and jewels in the form of a proven cure for this\njustly dreaded malady.\u201d\n\nThere is no sight more pathetic than a proud man humbled. Mr. Genung,\nwith all his boastful pride of race and family, told that one in whose\nveins his own blood flowed was an outcast, unclean from this loathsome\ndisease, a leper, while close upon this, conscience whispered, \u201cWhat\nof the poor victim?\u201d felt a compassion for his wayward brother\u2019s only\nchild suffuse his whole being. Tears coursed down his rugged cheeks and\nutterly broken in spirit, he looked appealingly at Dr. Herschel while\nhis whole frame shook as with ague.\n\nMr. De Vere sprang to his assistance and Dr. Herschel administered a\nrestorative, bidding him lie down for a few minutes, and his order was\nobeyed with child-like confidence.\n\n\u201cNow,\u201d resumed the doctor, when the excitement had somewhat\nsubsided, \u201cmy plan is this: to at once remove our young friend to\nShushan--accommodations there are meager, but this is easily and\nquickly remedied, and I, myself, will remain with him until he is fully\nunder the application of my treatment.\u201d\n\n\u201cAll alone in that detestable wilderness!\u201d Mr. De Vere exclaimed.\n\n\u201cNo, my dear sir, very soon he will be joined by another man (also a\npatient), and they can mutually assist each other.\u201d\n\n\u201cGod be merciful!\u201d Mr. Genung moaned.\n\n\u201cTheir home,\u201d the doctor continued, \u201cshall be light, airy and\nattractive, the library complete. I assure you that nothing necessary\nfor their comfort will be omitted. Barren and forbidding as that spot\nseems, it contains much that is interesting, and best of all, that for\nwhich the brightest minds of all ages have sought--A CURE FOR LEPROSY!\u201d\n\n\u201cHow long do you think this stupor will last, Doctor?\u201d asked Mr. De\nVere.\n\n\u201cI cannot say, but asleep or awake, we must make arrangements for\nhis removal this night. You understand that his isolation is to be\ncomplete?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot even communication by telephone?\u201d\n\n\u201cEven that. Were it known that Hernando has leprosy, complications\nmight arise. Fearful as the disease is, it is not contagious, but it\nwould be a difficult matter to convince the laity that contagion and\ninfection are not synonymous. Am I to depend on your co-operation?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes,\u201d came the answer in unison.\n\n\u201c_Reuben_ will collect together his effects\u201d--with an accent on the\nname, which both understood--\u201cand prepare him for the trip at about ten\no\u2019clock to-night; I, with a trusty man, will be here with a conveyance\nfor Shushan.\u201d\n\nA heavy sigh from Mr. Genung.\n\n\u201cAnd now,\u201d said the doctor cheerfully, \u201cdevotion is commendable only\nwhen rightly demonstrated. Let me know if he awakes. Good-morning,\u201d and\nhe was off.\n\nEven his enemies would have pitied Andrew Genung as he sat there\nstaring vacantly at first one and then another. Hernando\u2019s coming and\nsubsequent aid in discovering \u201cOld Ninety-Nine\u2019s\u201d mine he had viewed\nin the light of a manifestation of God\u2019s pleasure to smile on this\nvalley, and that He had chosen one of the good old name \u201cGenung\u201d to be\nthe means, had made his heart swell with pious pride. Now he could only\npray; \u201cHeavenly Father, have mercy on my poor boy. Forgive him, for he\nknew not what he did!\u201d\n\nMr. De Vere went upstairs to deliver Dr. Herschel\u2019s verdict to Reuben.\nHis hand was on the knob of Hernando\u2019s door; but, like a spirit, Reuben\nappeared on the threshold and gently but firmly motioned him back\nwith,--\u201cYo\u2019 can\u2019t come in hyah, Massa, Massa John!\u201d\n\n\u201cReuben!\u201d Mr. De Vere\u2019s tone was one of dignity.\n\n\u201cDr. Herschel assures us that this disease is not contagious, nor as\nbroadly infectious as has been believed.\u201d\n\n\u201cDrefful sorry to displease yo\u2019, Massa; but odahs am odahs.\u201d\n\nMr. De Vere stepped back abashed, not at the gentle rebuke implied\nin those words, but before this perfect example of the dignity of\nservice, unswerving fidelity to conviction, unselfish devotion to\nthose held dear.\n\n\u201cFar be it from me to tempt you, Reuben,\u201d Mr. De Vere said humbly. \u201cYou\nunderstand that Hernando has leprosy, and that, awake or asleep, you\nare to have him ready to be moved to Shushan by ten o\u2019clock to-night.\u201d\n\nNot a muscle in that black face moved; and fearing he had not\nunderstood, Mr. De Vere repeated--\u201cLeprosy.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, Massa, I s\u2019pected it when the doctah was hyah.\u201d\n\nA slight noise in Hernando\u2019s room attracted Reuben\u2019s attention and he\nquickly entered it, locking the door behind him.\n\nEletheer came out of the library where Mr. De Vere had been closeted\nwith his family for nearly an hour. No outsider will ever know how the\nawful truth was told there, but the girl Eletheer came out of that\nroom a woman. She wandered aimlessly downstairs. Not a cloud dimmed\nthe intense blue of the heavens, and all nature seemed quivering with\nnew life. The sunny valley lifted a smiling face but Eletheer saw\nonly--Shushan.\n\n[Illustration: Into this den of venomous serpents only the hardy dared\npenetrate]\n\nThis extensive tract of land extended from the Rochester line to\nthe \u201cLow Right.\u201d Portions of it were capable of being converted\ninto average, tillable land but the greater part was rough, hilly\nand barren. This latter condition especially applied to the eastern\nportion, which opposed the Shawangunk Mountains: bare, rocky walls\nrising in successive steps, brokenly dizzy cliffs over which the\nnortheasters swept unobstructed, fit abode for the shades of departed\nwarriors as they had been the scene of many an Indian ambush. True,\nthere were some shady haunts of gigantic pine, hemlock and chestnut,\nbut into this den of venomous serpents only the hardy dared penetrate,\nand these never more than once.\n\nIn the heart of this amphitheater boiled a spring so offensive as to\nhave earned the name \u201cStinking Spring.\u201d The rocks from which it issued\nwere blackened, denuded of all vegetation, and every living plant\nwithin reach of the fumes withered and died, but here was a paradise\nfor reptiles which attained prodigious size and thronged in numbers\nincredible.\n\nOld settlers claimed that some sort of connection existed between\nShushan and \u201cOld Ninety-Nine\u2019s\u201d cave, as, when the mysterious \u201clight\u201d\nappeared on the mountains, an answering flash rose above Shushan, but\nno one attempted an explanation.\n\nLocally, this spot was regarded with dread, wiseacres declaring it\nhaunted, and Dr. Herschel\u2019s purchase of the same excited much adverse\ncriticism, but he was left in undisputed possession.\n\nHere, for years to come, was Hernando to dwell; and, disfigured beyond\nrecognition by the \u201cCurse of a God of purity,\u201d he would find his\n\u201cWaterloo.\u201d The utter futility of human resistance to natural laws had\nreceived another scientific verification; but oh, how disproportioned\nwas the punishment to the offense!\n\nCompletely wrapped in thought, Eletheer did not see Dr. Herschel\nwho just then appeared around a bend in the path, and she started\nhysterically at his greeting.\n\nHe had been up at the mine and was making a short cut through the\nbarnyard to the road where, unnoticed by Eletheer, his horse was still\ntied. His practiced eye detected at a glance the traces of tears\nwhich she defiantly repressed and, pointing to a rustic bench, he\nsaid,--\u201cCome, let us sit in the sunlight and see if you are in earnest\nabout becoming a trained nurse, which Dr. Brinton tells me you have\ndecided to do.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d she replied simply, \u201cmy grandmother thought I had a real talent\nfor nursing.\u201d\n\nDr. Herschel looked at her fixedly. This was not the first girl whom\nhe had seen possessed of a \u201creal talent\u201d for nursing, whose heart\n\u201cyearned for the sweet joys of ministering to the afflicted\u201d; but in\nhis experience the majority of these ardent maidens had been quickly\ndisillusioned. Possibly the girl beside him was different. True, she\nknew nothing of the world and all its distractions, but she did not\nseem sentimentally inclined. Her behavior during the recent unhappy\noccasion was eminently praiseworthy in one of her temperament and years.\n\n\u201cThen too,\u201d she added, \u201cReuben says I\u2019ll make a good nurse and he is a\nnatural nurse.\u201d\n\n\u201cH\u2019m!\u201d Dr. Herschel had seen \u201cnatural nurses\u201d before; but at the\nmention of that black man\u2019s name his expression visibly softened; no\nfair-minded critic could question his ability.\n\n\u201cHow old are you?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cSeventeen.\u201d\n\n\u201cPlenty of time in which to consider so serious a question. First get\na good education, and then if you still wish to enter upon that life I\nwill assist you in doing so. From time immemorial nursing has been the\nfield of usefulness peculiarly adapted to women. History\u2019s pages are\ndotted with the names of heroines in camp, field and plague-stricken\ndistricts, in short, wherever the sick and wounded have needed care\nnurses have lived a life of such unselfish devotion as to have earned\nthe gratitude of millions. We bow our head in reverence to their\nmemory; but we are approaching a practical age in which science and\nmechanics will be the ruling forces. The time is not far distant\nwhen nursing will be a recognized profession, in line with the other\neducational branches, and expert training an unquestioned necessity.\nThe trained nurse of the future must be an open-eyed, earnest woman\nwith a working hypothesis of a life. She will be keenly alive to the\nfact that people of culture and refinement into whose homes she may be\nsent, require an approach, at least, to the same qualities in the one\nwho ministers to their needs. Relations between nurse and patient are\npeculiarly close and sacred\u201d;--involuntarily Dr. Herschel looked upward\ntoward Hernando\u2019s window--\u201cshe will be the recipient of confidences,\noften enforced, which no true nurse can violate. In short, her\ninfluence in any household is almost unlimited for good--or bad. Any\nnurse who chooses this life with either no conception of the magnitude\nof the work or from some ulterior motive, must ultimately suffer\ndefeat. You see, Miss Eletheer,\u201d he continued, \u201cthat is largely a\nquestion of business, with a business woman\u2019s responsibilities. A nurse\nmust be just, loyal and self-sacrificing from an impersonal standpoint,\nbelieve in herself, and have perfect control over her emotions. She\nmust \u2018take things as they are.\u2019\u201d\n\nDr. Herschel was a peculiarly gifted man aside from his professional\nattainments. A natural critic of human nature, wide experience had\ndeveloped this trait into a seemingly occult power. He had also that\ntenderness, that charity of the strong for the weak, which constitutes\nthe true man.\n\n\u201cNow here is our young friend\u2019s case. Very likely, to you his\npunishment seems disproportionate to the offense, and your doubt\nis a natural one; but finite minds cannot comprehend the Infinite,\nnor in instances like the present one, see justice. Nature does not\nspecialize,--sin is sin. Sin and punishment spring from the same\nroot. This is true of all the minor events of life; worrying over\nirremediable ills drains one\u2019s nerve force, and seriously impairs\none\u2019s ability for effective work. Up there,\u201d pointing toward Hernando\u2019s\nroom, \u201cis a pattern well worth the consideration of thinking minds. Are\nReuben\u2019s energies wasted in bewailing the disaster that has overtaken\nhis charge? No, he is a good business man, using what materials he has\nto the best advantage.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat a cold, hard view of so sacred a calling, and one which takes\nhold on the basic principles of society,\u201d Eletheer said warmly.\n\n\u201cNevertheless a correct one. Relative conditions are necessarily\ncomplex and, to do good work, the woman must be absorbed in the nurse,\nand dignify her patient into a case. This means work, hard work, many\ntimes drudgery in a trade--I might say, profession--in a world of\nincreasing tendency towards scientific skill, a practical age where all\ngenuine ability will be compensated by an equivalent in dollars and\ncents.\u201d\n\nEletheer had opened her lips to speak; but at that instant a black\nhand raised Hernando\u2019s window, and when it again closed a white flag\nfluttered there.\n\nWithout a change of expression Dr. Herschel arose. He held out his hand\nto the shrinking girl before him, and in his firm grasp Eletheer gained\nher first insight into the philosophy of necessity.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\n\nIf Dr. Herschel\u2019s courage weakened as he looked into Hernando\u2019s face\nhis expression did not show it. Duty, once plain, had but one road\nfor him, and he had the happy faculty of doing a disagreeable one\ngracefully. Hernando\u2019s case was simply and truthfully stated to him.\nHe then related his discovery of \u201cOld Ninety-Nine\u2019s\u201d will in the\nstove at Kingston. In the will, no mention was made of gold, money or\njewels, but he bequeathed to his brothers a proven cure for leprosy;\nas, in his younger days, he had contracted the disease in the West\nIndies. \u201cExtremely chronic as it is,\u201d said the doctor, \u201che was not\naware of its true nature until in an advanced stage. He speaks of his\nbody as contorted by dry rot, but painless. This is why he kept hidden\nfrom sight, believing the Great Spirit angry with him. In a dream his\nguardian spirit guided him to Shushan to be bitten by a poisonous\nsnake whose venom was an antidote; but, to perfect a cure, he must take\nvapor baths from the boiling waters of \u2018Stinking Spring.\u2019[B] He went\nto Shushan, allowed himself to be bitten repeatedly by the venomous\nserpents there, carried out the directions of his guardian spirit, and\nin less than a year, his body became strong. One foot and three fingers\nhad dropped off.\u201d\n\n  [B] Local tradition accredits the Delawares with some remarkable\n      cures of skin diseases through such means. Probably this spring\n      was sulphur.\n\nFor the first time Hernando became interested, but only for an instant.\n\u201cWhat does it matter now?\u201d he said with dull apathy. \u201cI have ruined\nthis entire family and God knows how many others! all because I was a\nblind fool. Venomous snakes and \u2018stinking springs\u2019 cure a disease that\nhas baffled science since creation? A bullet through the heart is the\nbest antidote for me!\u201d\n\n\u201cWill you put yourself in my hands?\u201d\n\n\u201cWould a post mortem on my carcass further the cause of science?\u201d said\nHernando bitterly.\n\n\u201cTell me one thing,\u201d Dr. Herschel asked, \u201chave you ever suspected this?\u201d\n\n\u201cGreat God, no! Not this. Don\u2019t think me worse than I am. Had I,\nmy body would have followed \u2018Old Ninety-Nine\u2019s\u2019 rather than bring\ndestruction on these dear friends.\u201d\n\n\u201cListen, young man; on my professional word you have infected no\none. Faith on your part is unnecessary; all I ask of you is to go to\nShushan, take vapor baths, and allow me to inject the prepared venom\nuntil you understand doing these things yourself according to my\ndirections. Do you consent?\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is but one other alternative.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd that would make you a murderer and me a felon. Do you hope to\npervert Justice or trick her of her dues! Is not one lesson sufficient?\u201d\n\nHernando\u2019s brain reeled. His agonized soul cried out in anguish against\nthe stern Power demanding years of torment in payment for one mistake.\nHis nervous tension was tremendous, and the swaying power almost beyond\ncontrol.\n\nThe doctor left him undisturbed to think it over for a few seconds and\nthen said kindly:\n\n\u201cIt is quite impossible for our finite minds to comprehend a plan of\nwhich we form an infinitely small part; but the slight glimpse we can\nget of the universe, wonderful beyond comprehension, ought to make us\naccept our fate gladly--as we must, blindly.\u201d\n\nAfter the doctor left, Hernando remained standing, the picture\nof abject misery. Leaning his head against the window he said\nbitterly,--\u201cAnd for this I have striven! I, a leper, condemned to cry\n\u2018Unclean, unclean!\u2019\u201d\n\nA black hand fell lightly on Hernando\u2019s arm and Reuben\u2019s low voice\nsaid: \u201cGod am a bery present frien\u2019 in time ob need.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, for your faith!\u201d Hernando moaned. \u201cReligion is a cold word and\nmeans nothing to me.\u201d\n\n\u201cAn\u2019 what am \u2019ligion, Massa?\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d\n\n\u201cDen let me tell yo\u2019, Massa: \u2018Puah \u2019ligion an\u2019 undefiled befo\u2019 God an\u2019\nde fatha am dis,--to visit de fathaless an\u2019 wida\u2019s in de--in de\u2019s\n\u2019fliction an\u2019 to keep hisse\u2019f unspotted f\u2019um de wo\u2019l.\u2019\u201d\n\nTears, welcome tears, at last. \u201cOh, Granny, Granny!\u201d Hernando sobbed.\n\u201cWas that night prophetic? Did you foresee this, and can you help me\nnow as you did then? Intercede with your God for me, for my punishment\nis greater than I can bear!\u201d He threw himself on the bed and buried his\nface in the pillows.\n\nReuben waited until the force of his emotion had spent itself, and\nthen, taking one of Hernando\u2019s hands in both his own, he repeated the\nLord\u2019s Prayer.\n\nIt may have been the effect of warm human sympathy, or the rich, sweet\ncadences of Reuben\u2019s voice that soothed and quieted Hernando; but is it\nnot reasonable to believe that Reuben, in his absolute self-abnegation,\nat-one-ment with his Maker, \u201ctransmitted a wireless message\u201d direct\nto the Source of all being, and became a perfect \u201creceiver\u201d for the\n\u201cwireless current of God\u2019s dynamics,\u201d--received a direct answer to\nthat prayer? He arose from his knees and returned to complete the\npreparations for Hernando\u2019s departure.\n\nHow the weary hours dragged on no one could tell. Sounds of merriment\nabout the house were hushed and a blight seemed to have fallen on\neverything; but like everything else, the day had an end,--sunset,\ntwilight, darkness; ten o\u2019clock and Dr. Herschel; and the door closed\non Hernando, as all but Dr. Herschel and Reuben believed--forever.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAll thought of the wedding had been abandoned by Elisha and Celeste;\nbut, on the morning after Hernando\u2019s departure, Mr. De Vere received a\nnote from Dr. Herschel telling that Hernando hoped his absence would\nmake no difference in their arrangements for the wedding, and that they\nwould accept his congratulations. So the simple ceremony that made\nElisha Vedder and Celeste De Vere husband and wife was performed at the\nappointed time and Celeste did not feel disappointed in deferring her\ntrip to Vicksburg, as Elisha filled the vacancy left by Hernando.\n\nThough the miners marvelled, not one dared question the grave new\nsuperintendent. It was generally supposed that Hernando and Mr. De\nVere had had some difference which resulted in the former\u2019s dismissal\nand the fact of his having gone to live at Shushan made the odds\nagainst him. As he was no more seen, gradually he became in a measure\nforgotten, and work at the mine went as usual.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\n\nJack started for Texas as planned. He proposed going first to\nFredericksburgh and thence to Squaw Creek where resided George Nelson,\na Texas cattle king, to whom Jack carried a letter of introduction from\nAndrew Genung.\n\nNothing of special interest occurred to break the monotony of his\njourney until reaching Austin, where he intended to remain and rest a\nfew days before continuing on by stage for Fredericksburgh.\n\nMentally and physically tired, he sought his hotel. What was life\nworth? Only too well did he know the meaning of this hectic flush. The\nevents that had happened at his home had fallen like a pall over his\nhopeful nature, and though convinced that this change could do no more\nthan prolong his life, he had undertaken it to please his mother.\n\nAt the hotel where he stopped was a young fellow by the name of\nSevier, from Louisiana. He was having his eyes treated by Dr. Saugree,\nthe most eminent oculist in Texas, and a bond of common sympathy drew\nthe young men together. Mutual introductions followed and they became\nfriends.\n\nThe second day after his arrival Jack felt much better and Sevier\nproposed that they visit the Capitol. Jack readily agreed and they were\nstrolling leisurely in that direction when Sevier called his attention\nto a man on the other side of the street. He was clad in a hickory\nshirt, coarse baggy trousers, a broad-brimmed felt hat and brogans.\n\n\u201cA cowboy, I presume,\u201d said Jack.\n\n\u201cWhat I first thought,\u201d Sevier answered dryly. \u201cHe is president of the\nmost solid bank in this city. Let me introduce you,\u201d crossing over and\nbidding Jack follow.\n\n\u201cWhat are you giving me!\u201d said Jack, thinking it a practical joke.\n\nHis new acquaintance was Timothy or \u201cTim\u201d Watson, who shook hands\nwarmly with Jack and when he heard the name De Vere, he said: \u201cI must\nintroduce you to one of your kin; am on my way to the bank now, but if\nyou\u2019ll go along I\u2019ll attend to some necessary matters there and then\ntake you to her house which is on the same street. From New York, are\nyou? I reckon you don\u2019t know a man there by the name of Andrew Genung?\u201d\n\nJack\u2019s face beamed with pleasure as he explained how very well indeed\nhe knew him.\n\n\u201cWhere did you meet him?\u201d he asked Watson in some surprise.\n\n\u201cIn Nevada and Californy, and many\u2019s the jolly good ride we had\ntogether behind Hank Monk in the good old staging days,\u201d replied\nWatson, his face aglow at the pleasure of the memory. But they were now\nat the bank, and bidding them be seated, he disappeared into an inner\noffice.\n\nJack mentally contrasted him with the other bank presidents of his\nacquaintance and unconsciously laughed aloud.\n\nSevier, as if divining the cause, said--\u201cThere is not in the State of\nTexas a man possessed of more good, sound horse-sense than Tim Watson,\nnor a more honest financier.\u201d\n\n\u201cI believe it,\u201d Jack answered.\n\nThe subject of their discussion then appeared with the announcement\nthat he was ready, and they soon arrived at the home of Miss De Vere,\nthe aforementioned kinswoman of Jack.\n\nLike most of the residences of the better class, it was built of native\nstone with a broad piazza, or \u201cgallery,\u201d extending around three sides\nof the house. Miss De Vere was busily engaged in her flower garden when\nWatson espied her, and in a stentorian voice called out,--\u201cHowdy, Miss\nDe Vere!\u201d\n\nMiss De Vere was apparently about sixty years of age, and as she\ngraciously welcomed them, Jack was struck with the resemblance\nto his father\u2019s family. Evidently she, too, saw the De Vere\ncharacteristics in Jack, for laying her hands on his shoulders she\nsaid meditatively,--\u201cStrange the tenacity of race. Our type is a\nparticularly strong one and distinctly perpetuated. John, too, is a\nname we cling to. All the De Veres in this country came from one common\nstock, and we need not be ashamed of one of our kin.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow about the one up last month for horse-stealing!\u201d said Watson with\na sly wink at Jack. But apparently his question was unheard and she\nushered them into a wide hall extending entirely through the house.\n\nShe noticed sadly another trait in Jack, the tendency to pulmonary\ntrouble, and her heart warmed toward this newly found kinsman.\n\nJack, too, felt greatly drawn towards her and was unconsciously led\nto talk about himself, his object in leaving home and his family. She\nearnestly pressed him to make his home with her during his stay in\nAustin, but as it would now be short and his belongings were at the\nhotel, he gratefully declined, promising to do so on his way home. His\nintentions were to take the next day\u2019s stage for Fredericksburgh, so,\nafter a most enjoyable time with Miss De Vere, they left. Jack\u2019s heart\nwas very tender as he received her good wishes and good-bye. \u201cTruly,\u201d\nhe thought, \u201cthis world is very small,\u201d and, turning, caught Watson\neyeing him keenly.\n\n\u201cSo you knew Andrew Genung?\u201d he said, divining the latter\u2019s glance of\nsympathy.\n\n\u201cYou bet I did, and I\u2019ll be doggoned if it don\u2019t make me homesick to\nthink of them good old days in the Rockies!\u201d\n\n\u201cDid you know his brother?\u201d\n\n\u201cRight well. What a good-for-nothing, unlucky devil he was. It aint\ngood policy to marry among them Greasers. I\u2019ve clean lost sight o\u2019\ntheir boy. Reckon he\u2019s dead. I\u2019m looking for a man by the name of\n\u2018Bruce,\u2019 in Virginia City, though God Almighty knows if he had a right\nto the title. He was a slicker, and buncoed Fred Genung along with\nmyself. I\u2019m \u2019biding my time, and if ever again I set eyes on him, one\nof us is goin\u2019 to glory \u2019cross-lots!\u201d\n\n\u201cBut that is a long time ago, and he may either be dead or greatly\nchanged,\u201d returned Jack.\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d replied Watson, \u201cit is a good many years ago since he run that\nFaro Bank in Virginia City, and I reckon he _is_ changed; but unless\nhe\u2019s got a bran-new face, I\u2019d know him in Africa. Look-a-here, young\nman, no one can ever say that Tim Watson cheated him out of one cent,\nand this miserable hound is the only critter that ever got the best of\nTim Watson. I\u2019ll give him a chance to settle and if he don\u2019t--\u201d Here\nWatson\u2019s face became purple and Jack hastily changed the subject.\n\nTim Watson was a character. His rules of business were inflexible in\ntheir honesty and his character bore the closest scrutiny. Men, women\nand children carried their troubles to him and his sympathies were\nalways with the weaker side. His observant eye discovered something\nbesides broken health in Jack\u2019s face and he determined to keep an eye\non the young fellow with the sad eyes.\n\nArriving at the bank, the young men left Watson there after obtaining\na promise from him that he would spend the evening with them at the\nhotel, which they reached just in time for dinner.\n\n[Illustration: Tim Watson]\n\nThe next morning Watson and Sevier saw Jack depart by the daily stage\nfor Fredericksburgh, the latter having promised to write immediately\non his arrival there, and climbing into the stage, he waved good-bye,\ncarrying with him the picture of whole-souled honesty clad in a hickory\nshirt.\n\nThe great boot was strapped over the baggage behind, everything stowed\naway, and the driver cracked his whip over the horses\u2019 heads as off\nthey went. The Colorado River was not then bridged and must be forded.\nThe horses were accustomed to it though, and even when the water\nreached their bellies, they still plunged on. Over the old stage road\nto Yuma, Arizona, they were going, and were soon climbing the bluffs\nwest of the Colorado. From Austin, the road is one continuous rise, and\nby nightfall they were travelling over a rolling prairie. Jack\u2019s only\ncompanion was a German who neither spoke nor understood one word of\nEnglish, but was well armed. His own six-shooter, presented to him by\nWatson, was handy and he had been duly warned as to the character of\nthe country through which they were passing.\n\nThese stages travelled very fast, stopping only at lonely stations for\nmeals and change of horses.\n\nIt was a little past midnight; the moon had gone down, and the only\nsounds audible were the rumble of the coach and the distant howling of\nwolves. \u201cThirteen miles from a human habitation!\u201d thought Jack, and\na feeling akin to fear crept over him. He could not close his eyes\nalthough his companion snored loudly.\n\n[C]Suddenly the stage came to a dead stop and crack! crack! went one\nshot after another. In the darkness and m\u00e9lee that followed, Jack\ncrawled out unperceived into a _mesquit_[D] tangle a few yards distant.\nThe driver and his fellow passenger were summarily dispatched, their\nbodies and the stage plundered, and, undoing the fastenings, the\ndesperadoes rode off with the horses. All this occurred in less time\nthan is taken in recounting the awful deed.\n\n  [C] Improbable as this incident seems, there are authentic accounts\n      of similar occurrences that took place in this region at about\n      the time of this story.\n\n  [D] Mesquit: \u201cEither of two thorny shrubs or small trees of the bean\n      family found in Texas or California--the larger and better known\n      is the honey-mesquit, yielding the sweetish algarroba--pods much\n      used for cattle-fodder.\u201d\n\nJack waited for a full quarter of an hour before he dared approach the\nstage. Only too well had the desperadoes done their work even in the\ndarkness. An overpowering sense of dread came over him as he realized\nthat he was the only remaining passenger and on a lonely plain,\ninfested with wolves. Even now they were scenting blood, and their\nhowls were growing nearer. One thing was certain, he must get away\nfrom this spot immediately, but where to? The darkness was so intense\nthat he could not see two feet before him. But oh, kind Providence! in\nwandering about he stumbled against a tree and none too soon for as a\nlong-drawn howl announced their approach, and the wolves pounced upon\nthe bodies of his companions, snarling viciously as they tore them limb\nfrom limb, Jack could only be thankful for his own miraculous escape.\n\nThe wolf is a cowardly animal and never attacks a human being by\ndaylight, nor unless goaded by hunger and sure of his position. They\ncontinued snapping and snarling for a long time. Jack was perched upon\na limb out of all danger, and gradually a certain sense of humor stole\nover him. He was a fine whistler and often at home receptions had\nentertained guests with selections accompanied by the guitar. Placing\ntwo fingers in his mouth, he emitted a long-drawn whistle and as if by\nmagic all sounds from below ceased. The experiment having gratified him\nbeyond all expectation, Jack persevered. One selection followed another\nuntil finally the pack of probably ten wolves could be heard slinking\noff through the mesquit bushes.\n\nJack laughed softly as he said aloud,--\u201cWhat would Celeste think of\nthat for an audience?\u201d\n\nIt was now growing perceptibly lighter. The blossom pole of the\nyuccas appeared like an array of bayonets and the heavy odor of the\nnight-blooming cereus was wafted to him on the cool breezes. Soon the\nsun showed its yellow face on the distant horizon, shedding a warm glow\nover the prairie already brilliant with flowers whose names he knew\nnot. The stage road wound like a ribbon over the plain which rose and\nfell \u201clike billows on a pulseless ocean.\u201d\n\nClimbing down, Jack returned to the road and tramped on westward. Oh,\nfor a drink of water; but nowhere was any to be found! One sink-hole\nafter another was explored, only to find baked clay instead of the\nprecious fluid. His throat grew parched as he tramped along under the\nburning sun, and each hour seemingly left him no farther on. All day\nlong he plodded with no water and nothing but berries to eat.\n\nBy nightfall, away to the right and off the road, he espied a column of\nsmoke rising. \u201cA human habitation of some sort,\u201d he thought, and with\nadded courage pushed on.\n\nDistances are very deceptive in this dry, thin air and it was almost\ndark when he reached the high pole fence surrounding an inclosure in\nwhich was a log house. He was about to vault the fence when a confusion\nof yelps told him that a half-dozen wolfish dogs regarded him as an\nintruder. Jack realized that these assailants were really in earnest,\nand hastily climbing one of the uprights, he shouted for help.\n\nA stout German woman appeared in the doorway and, seeing Jack\u2019s\nposition, she shouted,--\u201cGerunter, Franz!\u201d \u201cFranz\u201d was evidently the\nleader for as he drew back the others followed, and in answer to her\ninvitation Jack approached the house which was occupied by a German\nfamily named Kurtz.\n\n\u201cPlease give me a drink of water!\u201d Jack said, sinking into a chair\nalmost exhausted.\n\nMrs. Kurtz brought it and he drank greedily.\n\n\u201cVat ist name und vo kom\u2019st du?\u201d she inquired in broken English.\n\nJack related his encounter with the desperadoes and subsequent\nexperiences, to which she listened with an indifference\nincomprehensible to him.\n\n\u201cYa, like Comanche,\u201d she said, busying herself with preparations for\nhis supper.\n\nOh, how good the coffee and fried chicken smelled! Jack could\nhardly wait for it to be ready, and when at last Mrs. Kurtz drew a\nrush-bottomed chair before the table as a signal that supper was\nready, he went at the food in a manner which brought an expression of\ntenderness into even the stolid face of Mrs. Kurtz. Never in his life\nhad he so enjoyed a meal, and his look of satisfaction attested the\ngratitude he felt.\n\nThis family, father, mother and daughter, were ranchers and\ndescendants of the colony of Germans sent over by Bismarck to found\nFredericksburgh. Mr. Kurtz now counted his sleek cattle by the thousand.\n\nJack mentioned his letter to Mr. Nelson of Squaw Creek, and his wish to\ngo there on the morrow.\n\n\u201cGeorge Nelson is a friend of mine. His youngest gal and my Elsie is\nreal thick. Better hold on till Saturday and my gal\u2019ll ride along with\nyou. She wants to spend Sunday there. My da\u2019ter is doin\u2019 some tradin\u2019\nin town, but she\u2019ll be home to-morrow.\u201d\n\nIt was now Thursday so Jack signified his willingness to do so,\nincidentally adding that he would like to buy a horse.\n\n\u201cReckon I can suit you,\u201d returned Mr. Kurtz with pardonable pride.\n\nBut Jack was nodding, and he threw himself on a husk bed, oblivious of\neverything till noon the next day.\n\nAt dinner, he saw Miss Kurtz, who had ridden in from Fredericksburgh\non her spirited little mustang. Her dancing eyes and brown, healthy\ncomplexion gave evidence of the invigorating atmosphere of the plains\nand, though somewhat shy, she was a really attractive girl of about\neighteen years. Her admiration for Jack was poorly concealed and, as\nmost young men would have done under the circumstances he set about to\nmake himself agreeable. He described Nootwyck, his family, and gave a\nbrief sketch of \u201cOld Ninety-Nine\u2019s\u201d cave and the mine.\n\n\u201cStrange that they found nothing besides the mine!\u201d Miss Kurtz mused.\n\u201cDo you think that the old man taken there exaggerated?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d replied Jack, \u201csome one had undoubtedly been in the cave\nrecently, my father thinks, and that the money and jewels were probably\ncarried off by the finder. All the other rare things seen by Benny must\nhave long ago disappeared.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt sounds like one of Aladdin\u2019s tales,\u201d she said, deeply interested.\n\n\u201cWe thought it such until the discovery,\u201d Jack replied, \u201cbut since then\nI am inclined to think that many of the legends of which that valley is\nso full may deserve investigation. The Delawares were a noble tribe,\nunjustly treated, and degraded by the whites who had only themselves\nto blame for the atrocities that occurred in the early history of the\nRondout Valley. The Delaware tongue is the most beautiful of any in the\nIndian language as the names in our county testify.\u201d\n\nSeeing a piano, Jack asked Miss Kurtz to play. She complied, but the\npiano was wofully out of tune, and she expressed great regret at her\ninability to get a tuner, saying her uncle usually attended to it, but\nhe had recently been shot.\n\n\u201cIf I had the implements, I could do it for you,\u201d he replied. With a\ngrateful look, she ran out of the room, returning almost immediately\nwith a pair of saddle-bags in which was a complete tuner\u2019s outfit.\n\n\u201cThere,\u201d he said, \u201cI\u2019ll soon have your piano in shape.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd while you are about it, I\u2019ll help mother with the work,\u201d she\nsmiled, leaving the room.\n\nHe had almost finished his task when Mr. Kurtz came in to ask if he\nwished to see the horses and, as Jack was still busy, he sat down in\nthe doorway to wait.\n\nJack seated himself before the instrument to try it, running his\nfingers lightly up and down the keys. A correct ear told him that\nthe work was well done and, rising, he followed Mr. Kurtz into an\ninclosure where were several horses.\n\n\u201cThere,\u201d said Mr. Kurtz, \u201cI have several as fine specimens of\nhorseflesh as you ever saw.\u201d\n\nThey were indeed fine animals, but one in particular attracted Jack\u2019s\nattention. He pointed out the horse and Mr. Kurtz said, \u201cThat\u2019s\nClicker, my woman\u2019s saddle horse.\u201d\n\nAt the sound of his name, Clicker pricked up his ears and whinnied.\n\n\u201cYour wife\u2019s saddle horse!\u201d Jack repeated in astonishment.\n\n\u201cSartin,\u201d returned Mr. Kurtz, and chirruped softly to the animal which\ntrotted gracefully up to him, rubbing his velvety nose on the old man\u2019s\narm.\n\nThe horse was a light bay, fully sixteen hands high, magnificently\nmuscled, broad forehead, intelligent eye, gracefully arched neck and\nluxuriant mane and tail.\n\nJack, a real lover of horses, took in all these good points at a glance\nand determined to own him if money could buy.\n\nThey were here joined by Elsie, who threw her arms around Clicker\u2019s\nneck, kissing and petting him; then, turning to Jack, she said,--\u201cIs he\nnot superb?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe most magnificent horse I ever saw, but I should never take him for\na lady\u2019s horse.\u201d\n\nElsie laughed as she said,--\u201cClicker is a gallant. Why, children climb\nup his legs while he looks approvingly on, and with a woman on his back\nhe is simply a lamb. Just mount him if you are a fearless rider and\nhe\u2019ll behave accordingly.\u201d\n\nAt first, they flatly refused all offers; but Jack\u2019s offer of\nseventy-five dollars proved too tempting and the bargain was closed,\nMrs. Kurtz adding the saddle that had belonged to Elsie\u2019s uncle.\n\nThey would receive no pay for Jack\u2019s accommodation, evidently\nconsidering the obligation on their side. Western hospitality is noted\nfor its breadth, but never before had Jack appreciated the full meaning\nof the word and he was greatly affected by the honest simplicity of\nthese Germans.\n\nEarly Saturday morning Jack and Elsie started for Squaw Creek Valley,\nten miles distant. It received its name from the fact that when the\nComanche warriors went out on their raids, the squaws were left in this\nvalley on the banks of the stream.\n\nClicker\u2019s step was light and springy as a panther\u2019s and his motion so\neasy that Jack felt as if in a rocking-chair. Elsie sat on her pony\nlike the practised horsewoman she was. They were galloping over the\ncattle trail which at times was invisible, and they then gave their\nhorses rein as every foot of the ground was familiar to them. Jack\nnoticed with admiration how deftly the animals avoided the thorny\nmesquit and cacti.\n\nHerds of sleek cattle grazed on the prairie covered with mesquit\nand buffalo grass. The former is the best in the world. It grows\nluxuriantly upon the plains of Texas, renews itself early in the\nspring, matures early, and throughout the year remains nutritious\nas naturally cured hay. Innumerable varieties of cacti blazed their\ngorgeous blossoms of yellow, red, pink and white over the expanse, but\nno trace of water; for it had now been six months since they had had\nany rain, and Jack marvelled at the healthy look of vegetation. \u201cHow is\nit,\u201d he asked, \u201cthat the trees attain such size and look so thrifty?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is a common saying in these parts that their roots are attached to\nthe bottom of a subterranean lake which is supposed to underlie this\ncounty,\u201d laughed Miss Kurtz.\n\nJack also laughed as he answered, \u201cThen why is not someone enterprising\nenough to utilize these everlasting winds in bringing some of the water\nto the surface? Honestly, I wonder that you do not irrigate.\u201d\n\n\u201cOne or two have tried it, but the water is very, very deep, and the\nscheme is an expensive one.\u201d\n\n\u201cThis soil is a rich, dark alluvium, very productive without rain. What\nwould it produce with it?\u201d he continued.\n\n\u201cPrickly pears and all the other varieties of cacti,\u201d Elsie replied\ndemurely.\n\nThey were now nearing a series of bluffs which gradually arose to an\nelevation of about one thousand feet forming a wall, or chain of hills,\nwhich hemmed in Squaw Creek Valley on the east for its entire length\nof seventeen miles. Their ascent was gradual, trees grew smaller with\nelevation and soon they were picking their way through a tangle of shin\noak, cacti and mesquit bushes. Exhilarated by the pure air, they halted\non the summit and looked down into Squaw Creek Valley. Jack started at\nits resemblance to his own dear valley in the North, only the walls\nwhich hemmed in this one would be called hills there.\n\nAt the head, or rather three heads, of the valley, Squaw Creek has\nits source in a chain of small lakes of pure spring water; thence it\nwinds its way through the entire valley and at the extreme northern end\nunites its waters with the Onion to form Beaver Creek which empties\ninto Llano River. The valley itself appears perfectly level and its\nwalls have a perpendicular height of nearly five hundred feet. The road\ninto it was at the northern end.\n\nFor several miles they travelled along its summit, then, descending\nabruptly into a pass, struck the stage-road for Fredericksburgh and\ndismounted to water the horses. As Jack was assisting Elsie to alight,\nher watch slipped from her belt and fell to the ground. In stooping to\npick it up, he was struck with its unique workmanship. \u201cMay I examine\nit?\u201d he asked. \u201cI never saw one like it.\u201d\n\n\u201cCertainly,\u201d she answered, handing it to him. \u201cIt belonged to a Spanish\nwoman who died at our house. I nursed her and just before her death she\ngave me this, saying it was all she had; and this,\u201d opening the back of\nthe watch, \u201cis a miniature of her only child. She called him Hernando.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy God!\u201d exclaimed Jack, greatly agitated. \u201cTell me all she said.\u201d\n\n\u201cShe left a package of letters for her boy should his whereabouts ever\nbe discovered, and I have kept them securely locked. Mother said it was\nuseless to try to find him.\u201d\n\nJack\u2019s eyes were blurred with tears as he looked at the picture;\nthe same wonderfully blue eyes and golden hair. Even as a boy, the\nsensitive mouth showed a downward curve. Jack leaned his head wearily\nagainst Clicker\u2019s neck, as he said: \u201cMiss Kurtz, in befriending this\nSpanish woman, you have placed the discoverer of \u2018Old Ninety-Nine\u2019\nunder a debt of deep gratitude.\u201d\n\nShe looked puzzled and he continued, \u201cThis is a picture of Hernando\nGenung who located my father\u2019s mine and developed it too. He is a hero\nand a martyr and you may well prize his picture.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut I shall send it to him along with the letters,\u201d said Elsie.\n\n\u201cNo,\u201d Jack protested firmly, \u201cwear it always, but give me in writing a\nfull account of his mother\u2019s time with you and I will forward that and\nthe letters to my father.\u201d\n\nJack\u2019s cheeks were colorless and his wan look made Elsie\u2019s heart ache.\nSomething more than ordinary grief was back of this, but she dared not\nspeak and felt greatly relieved when they drew up before Mr. Nelson\u2019s\nhouse.\n\nIt was a one-story adobe building built around a courtyard and around\nthis ran a piazza onto which a door from each room opened. In front was\na large central door, and opposite this was another leading to a corral\nin the rear. The windows were small and placed high.\n\nThey saw Mr. Nelson himself coming by a well-beaten path from the\ncreek. He had evidently not heard their approach for his glance was\nfixed on some object up the stream but on turning an angle he saw\nthem and a hearty \u201cHowdy!\u201d indicated that Elsie was no stranger. He\nshook hands warmly, scanning Jack\u2019s letter as a matter of secondary\nconsideration.\n\nNine of Mr. Nelson\u2019s children were married and settled in homes of\ntheir own and Dora, his remaining one, now approached with her mother.\n\nTexas hospitality again. The best they had was literally his while\nunder the protection of their roof and Jack was made to feel that he\nconferred a favor in accepting it.\n\nDinner was soon ready and seated at that hospitable board, Jack first\ntasted the succulent steaks which had heretofore existed only in his\nimagination.\n\n\u201cI reckon that this is your first meal in a \u2019dobe house,\u201d remarked Dora.\n\n\u201cThe first one I ever entered,\u201d Jack returned, \u201cand it has a distinctly\nforeign air.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d said Mr. Nelson, \u201cI spent some time in Mexico and their manner\nof building struck me as suitable to this climate. \u2019Dobe is cheap and\ndurable.\u201d\n\nJack\u2019s head throbbed painfully and he could not conceal his suffering.\nThe strain he had been under for the past week, with the shock received\nthat morning, had completely prostrated him, and he was only too glad\nto follow Mrs. Nelson\u2019s advice and go to bed. His room was sweet and\ninviting, but he sank into bed too ill to appreciate it.\n\nFor two weeks he was confined to his bed and when able to sit up his\neyes fell on a small box, on a stand beside the bed, which Dora said\nhad been brought by Elsie.\n\n\u201cWill you kindly hand it to me?\u201d Jack requested. Dora complied and she\nwas about to leave the room when he protested and she resumed her seat.\n\nJack\u2019s hand trembled as he took the box and Dora\u2019s eyes were moist when\nhe looked in her direction. Was it the attraction of her womanliness\nwhich made him lay before her the awful fate of the one to whom these\nletters belonged? Gradually he spoke of himself, his aspirations, his\nplans for the future with its seemingly infinite possibilities all\ngone now. \u201cThere is no use in longer deceiving myself. My future in\nthis world lies in the past.\u201d His tone was bitter and though evidently\nrelieved by unburdening his mind, he seemed utterly crushed.\n\n\u201cMr. De Vere,\u201d said Dora resolutely, \u201cwhat you tell me is indeed\nterrible. I do not pretend to understand why one endowed with so many\nnoble qualities should be thus stricken. An orthodox Christian would\ntell you that it is the will of God that it should be so and you must\npray for strength to bear it. Never mind that, you have something\nmore tangible to deal with and that is your own physical condition.\n\u2018Self-preservation is nature\u2019s first law,\u2019 and it is your duty to obey.\nAre you doing it? You are utterly cast down, oblivious of the many\nblessings around you. The doctor says if your nervous system would\nreact--which lies in your own power--in this dry, thin air, your lungs\nwould undoubtedly become restored to a healthy condition. Brooding over\nmisfortune is sinful. Forgive me if I wound you, but no one excepting\ntrue friends point out our shortcomings.\u201d\n\nJack seemed in a quandary as he replied quietly, \u201cLeaving out all\nsuperfluous words, you mean that I am a coward.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot exactly coward, but you are shirking a grave responsibility.\u201d\n\n\u201cA shirk, then,\u201d he corrected. \u201cYou are very frank, Miss Nelson.\u201d\n\nBut Dora was out of the room by this time, leaving him wholesome food\nfor reflection. More than anything else, Jack detested a \u201ccoward\u201d or\n\u201cshirk,\u201d and the thought of his appearing in the guise of one was\nnot pleasant. It nettled him, but his judgment told him that Dora\u2019s\nphilosophy was sound, and when the doctor next came, he saw a decided\nchange for the better in his patient. Soon he was able to go for a\nshort ride on Clicker, and the doctor exchanged knowing looks with Mrs.\nNelson.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\n\nAugust came and for nine months not a drop of rain had fallen. The\nearth looked burned up, and the grass was so dry that in travelling\nthrough it it flew into dust which the wind sent whirling over the\nplain. No crop promised to be a good one. The sun beat pitilessly down\non the brown fields and cattle subsisted mainly on mesquit beans that\ndangled their long pods in the never-ceasing wind.\n\n\u201cAll in the world this country needs is water,\u201d thought Jack who was\nstudying irrigation schemes. Water from the streams was impracticable\nand he now decided to bore on his tract of one hundred and sixty acres\njust northeast of Brockman\u2019s Point, and have his irrigation plant ready\nand in operation by the middle of September, superintending the work\nhimself. But it was well into December before the work was completed,\nand he was returning from a final inspection when whom should he meet\nbut Tim Watson.\n\n\u201cHowdy there, young Yank!\u201d the latter called out to Jack.\n\n\u201cWell I declare if it isn\u2019t Mr. Watson!\u201d Jack shouted, bounding forward.\n\nWatson eyed the brown, healthy specimen of manhood before him\nadmiringly and remarked on his improved looks. \u201cYour cousin sends her\nregards and this,\u201d said Watson, handing Jack a parcel which he opened\nimmediately. It contained a pair of moccasins, embroidered by Miss De\nVere herself, and an extremely kind letter.\n\nJack\u2019s eyes filled with tears of pleasure at the acceptable present and\nthe spirit that prompted her to make it.\n\n\u201cShe is very kind to take such an interest in a comparative stranger,\u201d\nhe said with great feeling.\n\n\u201cShe is a De Vere, you know,\u201d Watson answered, slyly punching him. \u201cIs\nNelson about?\u201d When answered affirmatively he continued, \u201cDora is a\nnice girl, now, aint she?\u201d\n\n[Illustration: Jack De Vere]\n\n\u201cCertainly,\u201d replied Jack quickly, \u201ca fine character.\u201d\n\nWatson eyed him closely and then burst into a loud laugh which was so\ninfectious that Jack joined in without knowing why. Suddenly checking\nhimself, he said, \u201cWhat are we laughing at anyway?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou sly dog,\u201d said Watson, \u201cI\u2019ve been there myself, and you needn\u2019t\ntry to look innocent. She\u2019s a jewel, my boy, and I reckon you\u2019ve done\nthe right thing.\u201d Then changing his tone, he continued:\n\n\u201cAfter you left Austin, I wrote Andrew Genung stating that I had seen\nyou, and made some inquiries about his brother and what had become of\nthe boy Hernando. He answered at great length telling me that, as I\nknew, his brother Fred had died in a fight at Virginia City. The wife\nis probably--God knows where!\u201d Here his voice sank to a whisper, \u201cAnd\ntheir boy is a leper! Did you know this?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d replied Jack, \u201cand I know that that poor Spanish woman died a\nvictim of treachery.\u201d And Jack gave an account of the letters left\nwith Elsie Kurtz, also of what the Spanish woman told her of how a man\nby the name of Bruce poisoned her mind against her husband, and under\nthe guise of a friend enticed her from home one night; that her husband\novertook them, would not listen to her protestations of innocence,\nshot them both, as he supposed, mortally and left. When she came to\nherself she was alone and covered with blood. She dragged herself back\nto Virginia City feeling sure that her boy Hernando would believe in\nhis mother\u2019s innocence; but no trace of either him or his father could\nbe found. Unable to bear the slights and jeers of former companions,\nshe wandered about until she fell in with a family of Mexicans bound\nfor southern Texas. They pitied and cared for her and she made her\nhome with them until about three years ago when she drifted among the\nGreasers in this part of the country.\n\nWatson\u2019s expression during this recital was first one of surprise; this\nchanged into astonishment, and then a look of such vindictive hatred\nthat Jack proceeded with difficulty; but when he had concluded, his\nlistener remarked coolly, \u201cI\u2019ll be doggoned if I aint hungry!\u201d\n\n\u201cWere you ever North, Mr. Watson?\u201d\n\n\u201cNever, but I reckon I\u2019ll go some time, perhaps along o\u2019 you when you\ntake a turn home.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, how delightful! I may go next year.\u201d\n\nFor dinner, they were served with blue cat-fish of which Jack never\nseemed to tire, a long, slender fish averaging about one and a half\npounds, and equalling in flavor the northern brook trout. It is very\nunlike the mud cat-fish which is coarser in grain and flavor and\nsometimes attains a tremendous size; but even from a fifty-pound fish,\nthe steaks are very good.\n\n\u201cI do not believe there is a fish in the world equal to our blue\ncat-fish,\u201d observed Watson, deftly removing the bones from his mouth.\n\n\u201cUnless it is our speckled trout,\u201d Jack suggested.\n\n\u201cThere is a peculiar spring on my ranch,\u201d said Watson abruptly; \u201cin\ndry weather it is full of water, but in time of rain there aint a drop\nin it.\u201d\n\n\u201cI can beat that,\u201d laughed Jack. \u201cJust back of Sampsonville in the town\nof Olive, and nearly at the top of High Point, four thousand feet high,\nis a spring called the \u2018Tidal Spring\u2019 because, when the tide is in, the\nspring overflows, and when it ebbs the water lowers.\u201d\n\nJack looked quickly in Watson\u2019s direction. For an instant their eyes\nmet and the answering glance told that in Ulster County was still\nanother spring where, in durance vile, was being served what seemed an\nunjust term.\n\nAfter a long silence, Watson shook himself like a great dog and\nturning to Jack said,--\u201cYoung man, I reckon you think I\u2019ve come just\nin compliment to your irrigation plant, but you\u2019re mighty mistaken if\nyou do. They\u2019ve made a big strike of gold down in the Llano District.\nI\u2019ve always believed there was gold there, for the formation is similar\nto that of the well-known mining camps in Colorado. Some years ago\nin panning the gravel in the streams and gullies I found colors of\ngold. The granite in that section has been crumbling away for ages,\nthe debris covering the formation. Report is, that in the side of the\ngully at the foot of Mt. Fisher, a narrow seam of quartz not more than\nan inch wide that shows gold and assays eighty dollars to the ton, has\nbeen discovered.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe very thought of exploiting another vein makes me sick,\u201d said Jack.\n\n\u201cBut,\u201d replied Watson, \u201calready a number of loads of high-grade\nselected ore have been taken from the surface trenches and sent on to\nthe Colorado smelters. The mine is being rapidly developed, and assays\nare running up into the thousands. Are you going to let a chance like\nthat go by?\u201d\n\n\u201cI want nothing to do with it,\u201d Jack insisted.\n\n\u201cFurther report says,\u201d continued Watson, \u201cthat the strike in the Mt.\nFisher Mine is of such a remarkable character, both in richness and\nextent of the veins, as to prove beyond a doubt that this belt is as\nrich in ore as any in Colorado.\u201d\n\nJack remained stolidly indifferent and, really annoyed, Watson said\nhotly,--\u201cReckon you can leave your damned irrigation plant long enough\nto ride over there along o\u2019 me in the morning?\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll go with pleasure--would really enjoy the ride with you. When do\nyou propose to start?\u201d\n\n\u201cLong afore daylight.\u201d\n\nNights are always cool enough to sleep under a cover in Texas and the\nmorning that Watson and Jack started for the mining camp, they found it\nnecessary to wrap themselves in their blankets.\n\nDuring the winter season all ranchmen on starting out for a trip of any\nlength go prepared to encounter one of those terrible \u201cnorthers,\u201d[E]\nand carry with them a twenty-five pound sack in which are bacon,\nbiscuits, coffee, a coffeepot and tin cup, a lariat and hobbles\nattached to the saddle.\n\n  [E] Norther: \u201cSpecifically, a wind blowing over Texas to the Gulf,\n      following the passage of a low area or cyclone. The contrast in\n      temperature is generally very marked, as the preceding winds are\n      warm, moist, southerly ones.\u201d--_Standard Dictionary._\n\nThree miles out of the valley where the stage road forked with the one\nleading to Fort Minard, Watson and Jack took a north-easterly course\nfor the Llano District, following an old cattle trail. Almost every\nbush and plant in Texas has a thorn and, as they threaded their way\nthrough clumps of parched buffalo grass and weird cactus plants, Jack\nappreciated the value of \u201cchaps.\u201d[F] The soil was very dry and every\nstep of the horses sent clouds of dust whirling; but the air, stirred\nby the warm breeze, was delightful, and Jack felt his lungs expand with\na vigor heretofore unknown. That annoying cough had quite disappeared,\nand no one would dream of accusing him of being a prey to ill health.\nLike a new being, his pulse bounding and mind alert, he galloped over\nthe plain beside Watson with the keenest enjoyment.\n\n  [F] \u201cChaps\u201d: leather leggings.\n\nThey were now sixteen miles from Squaw Creek settlement and following\nthe creek washes of the Llano River. Clicker had shown signs of\nuneasiness and occasionally gave an ominous snort.\n\n\u201cWhat can be the matter with this horse?\u201d said Jack. \u201cHe seems\ndetermined to make for that streak of woods yonder.\u201d\n\n\u201cMatter enough! He knows a heap more than we do! To the bushes!\u201d Watson\nshouted, whirling his horse about.\n\nClicker needed no urging. Jack felt those powerful muscles quiver under\nhim and with one bound the animal cleared the ground ten feet. Like an\narrow he flew and, bending low in the saddle, horse and rider appeared\nlike a cloud of dust.\n\nIn an incredibly short space of time, the haze in the north had\nwholly obscured the heavens and a biting north wind accompanied by\nsleet pitilessly drove them back; but twenty minutes brought them to\na position of comparative shelter. The horses discovered a rude shed\ninto which they dashed and, jumping to the ground, Watson and Jack\nendeavored to make their shelter more complete. Evergreen boughs were\npiled up around the more exposed parts and as the roof seemed tight,\nthey congratulated themselves on having found this haven. Next, they\nbrought in wood and started a fire.\n\n\u201cWe want a powerful sight, my boy. A \u2018norther\u2019 means business. When we\ndo get things here we get \u2019em hard,\u201d said Watson.\n\nNearly all the afternoon they worked with a will, bringing in fuel and\nwhatever fodder for the horses they could find.\n\nFiercer and fiercer the wind blew and the sleet dashed against their\nshelter as if determined to gain access. Great trees were torn up by\nthe roots and the crashing was fearful. Sounds of distress from herds\nof cattle huddled together in the woods came to their ears. Cattle seem\nto scent these storms, and try to reach a place of safety; but the\nweakly ones frequently perish on the plains.\n\nJack found an empty kettle, an immense black one, in one corner of\nthe shed. It was cracked entirely around the bottom and a blow from a\nbillet of wood knocked the bottom out. This he placed over the fire\nleaving a draught-hole in one side and thus the coals were prevented\nfrom being blown about, although their eyes suffered from the smoke.\n\nWatson deftly sliced some bacon with his jack-knife, the coffee was\nsoon boiling, and with a relish of a perfect appetite for sauce, they\npronounced their supper \u201cfit for a king.\u201d\n\nTheir stove soon became red-hot and Jack said they roasted on one side\nwhile the other froze. How he pitied the poor animals outside, but it\nwas better than the open country.\n\nThey decided to divide the night into watches, and as Watson was\nalready nodding, he consented to turn in first and was soon snoring,\nlying with his back to the fire.\n\nJack was no coward, but the weirdness of the situation impressed\nhim and with every sense on the alert, he prepared himself for any\nemergency. The fire was kept burning and his rifle ready.\n\nOne o\u2019clock. Suddenly a screech as of some human being in distress\nsounded not twenty feet from their shelter.\n\nWatson sprang up, pistol in hand, and seeing nothing, exclaimed\nimpatiently, \u201cI aint deaf, that you\u2019ve got to yell like that to wake\nme.\u201d\n\nJack was about to explain when again that awful screech.\n\n\u201cA painter, by gosh!\u201d said Watson, himself laughing. \u201cHave I been\nasleep?\u201d\n\nJack restrained a smile as he answered in the affirmative and Watson\nsaid as he was now awake he\u2019d better get up, so Jack warmed over the\ncoffee.\n\n\u201cJerusalem!\u201d Watson exclaimed, looking at his watch. \u201cOne o\u2019clock! Why,\nboy, why didn\u2019t you call me before?\u201d\n\nJack protested that he was not sleepy but Watson made him turn in.\n\u201cSteady your nerves, they\u2019ll get a shock when we reach the mining camp.\nNow don\u2019t say I aint told you.\u201d\n\nDaylight showed nothing but sleet driven by an Arctic wind, and they\nhad the dreary consolation of knowing that in all probability it would\ncontinue for three days; but Watson was an old frontiersman, full of\nstories.\n\nOn the third day the storm visibly lightened. The wind coming in fitful\ngusts indicated that its force had been spent, and it finally ceased\naltogether, so that on the next day, they resumed their journey.\nThe trees were so weighted down with ice that many limbs had broken\noff, thus impeding progress, and to any but horses accustomed to\nthis tangled undergrowth rendering it dangerous. Threading their way\ncautiously, the open country was finally reached and, after a short\nhalt, they mounted and rode on to Mt. Fisher, turning a deaf ear to the\nmoans of distress from injured cattle on their way. On they sped, Mt.\nFisher seemingly not more than a mile distant, and beyond the hills\nmelting into a pinkish haze. The whole scene was typical of absolute\nfreedom and Jack was enjoying it to the fullest extent when Watson\nsuddenly called a halt and, reining his horse beside Clicker, said\nearnestly,--\u201cDo you recollect that I warned you of a surprise at the\nmining camp?\u201d\n\n[Illustration: Beyond the hills melting into a pinkish haze]\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre your nerves steady?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d Jack asked hotly.\n\n\u201cJust this. You are going to meet two old acquaintances, namely,\nSheriff Smith of Nootwyck and a man you know as Valentine Mills; and my\nreason for not telling you before is I knowed you\u2019d wear yourself out\nbefore we got here.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat the deuce is Mills doing here, and how long since you turned\ndetective?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, I aint studied human natur\u2019 all these years for nothing, and\nwhen you told me of Old Ninety-Nine\u2019s mine, something you dropped\ncarelessly about Valentine Mills set me to thinking, and this ended\nin acting, with the result that it is proved beyond a doubt that\nValentine Mills and Robert Bruce are one. I aint particular sharp,\njust been doin\u2019 a little missionary job. I haint no time for just\nordinary sinners but when God Almighty blazes a trail straight to a\nstomped-down, pusley-mean, miserable coyote like Robert Bruce alias\nValentine Mills and all his other aliases, it\u2019s my bounden duty to\nconvert him!\u201d\n\n\u201cIs Sheriff Smith at Mt. Fisher now?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, he is to meet us in that piece of woods yonder,\u201d pointing to the\nleft. \u201cThere he\u2019ll wait. It\u2019s only a few rods from the mine, and you\u2019re\nto go on ahead to open the way.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll do it with a right good will,\u201d said Jack in a voice that boded\nMills no good.\n\n\u201cWe\u2019ll be on the watch, and when your right hand goes up, Sheriff\nSmith\u2019ll appear on the scene, and at his signal I\u2019ll show up. I reckon\nhe won\u2019t be proper glad to see me!\u201d Watson chuckled.\n\nIn another half-hour they reached the woods by a trail that concealed\nthem from view and their low \u201cHello\u201d was answered by Sheriff Smith,\nwho anxiously awaited their coming. Like Jack, this was his first\nexperience in a \u201cnorther,\u201d but he had been more fortunate in not having\nleft Fredericksburgh until that morning.\n\nSheriff Smith was a typical mountaineer, tall, muscular and without\nan ounce of flesh to spare. No one had ever been hung in Ulster\nCounty--his enemies hinted, much to his regret.\n\nThis morning he was positively affable and, after briefly delivering\nmany messages to Jack, turned toward Watson inquiringly.\n\nThe latter\u2019s plan seemed a good one, so, leaving his horse, Jack\nproceeded at once to the mine. Reaching the shaft, who should spring\nlightly from the bucket but Mills himself! Instantly his glance fell\non Jack, he threw his arms around him in an ecstasy of delight,\noverwhelming him with solicitous questions. \u201cOh, my dear boy!\u201d he\nsaid, wiping his eyes, \u201cforgive this emotion. Such unexpected pleasure\ncompletely unnerves me!\u201d\n\nJack shook him rudely off, throwing up his right hand as he did so; and\nwhile Mills was still wiping his eyes, Sheriff Smith\u2019s hand was laid on\nhis shoulder and the words, \u201cYou are my prisoner!\u201d quickly dried his\ntears. Turning toward the miners who had collected near, he said in an\nabused tone,--\u201cFriends, what is the meaning of this?\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019ll explain that,\u201d Sheriff Smith interjected. \u201cThree indictments are\npending against you: abduction, theft and robbery; but at Nootwyck\nyou\u2019ll get a chance to clear yourself.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho accuses me of abduction?\u201d Mills asked defiantly.\n\n\u201cAndrew Genung of Nootwyck,\u201d was the calm reply.\n\n\u201cNow look here, Smith,\u201d said Mills. \u201cThis is a plot concocted in the\nbrain of that rascally nephew of Andrew Genung. Genung is far too\nsensible a man to cause my arrest on some trumped-up charge with no\nproof that I committed the deed.\u201d\n\n\u201cAint there no proof, Robert Bruce?\u201d and Tim Watson stepped before him.\n\nMills\u2019s blood receded from the surface, leaving his countenance a\nghastly green. Dumb with fear, balked at every turn, realizing that his\nlast card in this desperate game had been played, he fell on his knees\nand begged for mercy.\n\nNot a man present thought him worth a decent kick and all shrank away\nfrom him in abhorrence.\n\nQuick to see his advantage, Mills sprang past them toward the woods,\nlike a cat.\n\n\u201cHalt!\u201d called the sheriff.\n\nBut Mills heeded not, and when the smoke which followed the bullet from\nSheriff Smith\u2019s revolver cleared, it was plain that Mills\u2019s case would\nbe tried in a higher court than Nootwyck.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\n\nSix years have passed by. It is March and we are here at The Laurels\nagain.\n\nCan this beautiful city with its population of ninety thousand be\nNootwyck? Electric lights, street railways, stately residences,\nhandsome public buildings and all modern conveniences. What magic wand\nwrought this change?\n\nForeign capital has flowed in, Old Ninety-Nine is still rich, and every\nNootwyckian regards \u201cOld Ninety-Nine\u201d himself as the patron saint of\nthe valley. The mine is worked on the co-operative plan and, thus far,\nresults have justified the experiment.\n\nEducational advantages are of the first order. Genung University,\nsituated on the piece of land known as \u201cThe Pines,\u201d is a model\ninstitution ranking with any in the State. The corps of instructors is\ncomposed of eminent men and women and every means is employed to keep\nthe standing first class. Manufacturing is encouraged. Farmers find a\nready market for produce, thus developing the magnificent agricultural\ninterests; a railway center, Nootwyck\u2019s prosperity is assured.\n\nMr. and Mrs. De Vere seem supremely happy. Jack, now the proud father\nof one little girl and three boys, is a prosperous ranchman, and his\nletters assure his mother that Dora is simply the best wife that ever a\nman had. And the children--!\n\nCeleste and Elisha live down in the city. Eletheer expects to graduate\nfrom a training school for nurses in New England next year, and\nCornelia has developed into the family beauty. In point of resemblance,\nshe is all her grandmother could have wished, a De Vere, every inch.\nReuben and Margaret are unchanged.\n\nPoint Wawanda is no more, and where it once towered the shaft-house now\nrears its unsightly walls. But what has been lost in the picturesque\nhas been compensated by material benefit.\n\nDeep down in the bowels of the earth is an underground city in whose\nstreets the miners are delving and sending the precious metal to the\nsurface.\n\nSomething unusual is in the wind at The Laurels. All is excitement and\nbustle of preparation for some great event. Again and again are the\nrooms inspected to see that everything is all right, the fires are kept\nburning that no one may take cold. Four o\u2019clock brings Celeste who,\nwith Elisha, will be among those to receive Jack and Dora with the\nniece and nephews, who are the only grandchildren.\n\nCeleste is a trifle more matronly, which only enhances her beauty, and\nshe follows Cornelia about the house, Cornelia feeling that if Celeste\napproves there is no cause for criticism.\n\nJack is coming home and the telegram said he would reach Nootwyck\nto-morrow morning.\n\nThe air had been spring-like all day with occasional flurries of snow,\nbut by evening the ground was white. As night came on, the flakes fell\nfaster and faster and by bedtime the storm had girded up its loins and\nturned into a raging one. It meant business, for there was no promise\nof a lull. A large body of old snow still lay on the ground and by\nmorning over a foot had been added to it while it was still falling\nfuriously. The air was filled with great feathery flakes and the way\nthe snow piled up was amazing. The wind increased every hour and by ten\no\u2019clock great clouds of snow were sent whirling about and piling up so\nthat it was impossible to see beyond a few feet.\n\nThe De Veres grew anxious. No sound of a locomotive\u2019s whistle since\nseven o\u2019clock and now it was noon.\n\n\u201cThey are probably in New York City,\u201d said Mr. De Vere.\n\n\u201cBut the train leaves there at seven o\u2019clock and at that time no one\ncould have expected this Dakota blizzard,\u201d Mrs. De Vere protested.\n\nThe house, substantial as it was, shook with the fury of the raging\ntempest. Long before night, the whole lower floor was in darkness and\nthe storm unabated. The city below was invisible. All day and night the\nstorm continued and Monday morning brought no change.\n\nReuben managed to keep the way to the woodhouse passable and the fires\nburning, although the barn was invisible from the house. His devoutly\nreligious nature caused him to spend most of his leisure time in prayer\nand reading the Bible.\n\n\u201cOh, well,\u201d said Margaret, as she deftly fished out the nut-brown\ncrullers from a skillet of hot fat, \u201clife is a misery an\u2019 I can\u2019t nohow\nunde\u2019stan\u2019 it, but I sholy do mean to live as long as I ken. Po\u2019 Massa\nJack an\u2019 dem sweet chillen all undah dis snow!\u201d and her tears flowed\nafresh.\n\nOn Wednesday morning the air cleared and by noon the thermometer, which\nhad registered zero, rose to twenty. The sun coming out melted the\nsurface, that formed a crust which precluded further drifting.\n\nReuben and Mr. De Vere were working their way to the imprisoned\nanimals in the barn, which seemed an endless task. It was quite dark\nwhen they accomplished it and sounds of distress greeted them when\nat last the door was forced open. None of the animals in the barn\nwere seriously injured and they were quickly attended to; but in\nthe chicken-house, which was built against the mountain side, every\ninmate was found frozen stiff--probably smothered--as the building was\ncompletely covered with snow.\n\nHungry as wolves, Mr. De Vere and Reuben returned to the house for\nsupper, thankful that, excepting the chickens, none of the stock was\ninjured. The path they had made resembled an alley with the snow piled\nup fully six feet at the sides.\n\nAs they neared the kitchen, Margaret\u2019s melodious voice rang out:\n\n  \u201cDat awful Day, dat drefful Day,\n     When hebben an\u2019 earth shall pass away.\n   De\u2019s a l\u2019il\u2019 wheel er-turnin\u2019 in my soul,\n     De\u2019s a l\u2019il\u2019 wheel er-turnin\u2019 in my soul.\n\n  \u201cFo\u2019 gates on de no\u2019f, fo\u2019 gates on de souf,\n     An\u2019 yo\u2019 ken enter in at enny gate.\n   I-n-n-e-r my s-o-u-l, i-n-n-e-r my s-o-u-l,\n     De\u2019s a l\u2019il\u2019 wheel er-turnin\u2019 in my soul.\n\n  \u201cIn er my s--o--u--l----!\u201d\n\n\u201cMargaret,\u201d said Mr. De Vere, \u201cis supper nearly ready? We are almost\nstarved.\u201d\n\n\u201cLaw me, Massa John, been waiten\u2019 dis bressed ouah,\u201d she replied,\nbustling into the dining-room.\n\n\u201cWhat is your honest opinion of a blizzard, Margaret?\u201d Mr. De Vere\nasked a few minutes later, as she appeared at the table with a platter\nof hash.\n\n\u201cDe\u2019 jes\u2019 ain\u2019 no sayin\u2019 \u2019bout dat, Massa John,\u201d she answered with a\ntoss of her head. \u201cI\u2019se t\u2019inkin\u2019 \u2019bout dem po\u2019 chillen.\u201d\n\nMargaret\u2019s philosophy was decidedly original and a source of great\namusement to the family.\n\nNight came on calm and beautiful, innumerable stars twinkling in the\nheavens above. \u201cThe Laurels\u201d stood calm and silent in the shadow of\nthe mountain and from his chamber window Mr. De Vere looked out with\nfeelings akin to awe. The world seemed dumb, frozen by the hands of\ngrim winter; Nootwyck a city of giant snowdrifts. A few twinkling\nlights indicated that life was still there but the silence was of that\nmuffled kind which makes one apprehensive.\n\n\u201cOh, what untold sufferings this must have caused!\u201d he reflected, tears\nstarting to his eyes as he glanced in the direction where Shushan lay,\nand he thought of the young life among those snow-bound hills, there\nbeing devoured by a relentless foe. What a power for good he might have\nbeen! His very soul recoiled at the thought that one with Hernando\u2019s\nfine feelings should be a victim to the most loathsome disease known\nand compelled to saturate his poor, disfigured body with the nauseating\nfumes of \u201cStinking Spring.\u201d \u201cAh, well,\u201d he thought bitterly, \u201cthis is\none of the \u2018mysteries.\u2019\u201d\n\nTired out, he retired early but tossed restlessly all night.\n\nThursday\u2019s paper contained a pretty good description of the blizzard\nand at breakfast on Friday, Mr. De Vere read it aloud. It ran, \u201cA\ngenuine sample of the Dakota article, the severest storm ever known\nhereabouts. Nootwyck shut off from the outside world for nearly a week.\nFactories stopped, schools closed, and business at a standstill. All\nrailways and highways blockaded. Snowbanks of dimensions heretofore\nexisting only in the imagination.\n\n\u201cIt won\u2019t do any longer to talk of the snow-storms of \u2018auld lang syne.\u2019\nThe one of this week has eclipsed all previous records. Even those who,\nin the early part of the week, had \u2018remembered\u2019 greater storms are now\nfain to admit that they were mistaken, as inklings from the outside\nworld begin to come in showing how complete has been the blockade over\nsuch a wide extent of country. No train since Saturday and here it is\nThursday night, and there are good prospects that the embargo may last\nwholly or partially for several days longer. The limits of Nootwyck\u2019s\ncommunication with the world about her up to Wednesday night were\nWawarsing and Leurenkill. Nearly all the remainder of the highways are\nstill completely blockaded, and it is doubtful if many roads will be\nopened up in a week yet. No mails have arrived since Saturday night. In\nfact, Nootwyck would be completely isolated from the rest of mankind\nwere it not for the telegraph and telephone. So far as we can learn,\nthe same condition of affairs exists generally over the State and New\nEngland. Fears are entertained that there may have been considerable\nloss of life attending the storm when the full particulars are made\nknown.\u201d\n\nA loud ring at the door interrupted the reading and Reuben returned\nfrom answering the bell, with a telegram from Jack. It brought the\nwelcome news that he and his family were safe in New York City and that\nthey would leave for Nootwyck as soon as the tracks were cleared.\n\nThey had barely finished reading the message when another ring called\nReuben to the door. It was none other than Dr. Herschel who wished to\nsee Mr. De Vere on important business.\n\nMr. De Vere\u2019s face blanched when told who the visitor was and he\nentered the library with an apprehensive face.\n\nDr. Herschel lost none of his dignity as he arose to meet Mr. De Vere\nwith,--\u201cI wonder if Mr. De Vere will believe in the efficacy of my\ntreatment when I tell him that Hernando is cured!\u201d\n\n\u201cDoctor,\u201d said Mr. De Vere, \u201cyou are an eminent man, a profoundly\nscientific one, and in presuming to still doubt your ability I must\nappear pig-headed; but leprosy has been treated and investigated for\nages. Every known drug in the pharmacop\u0153ia has been tried, but always\nthe result has been disappointing. I appreciate your efforts but\ncan only reiterate that I have no faith in your ability to effect a\npermanent cure.\u201d\n\nThe doctor\u2019s expression did not lose one iota of its earnestness as\nhe replied in a tone so convincing that his listener unconsciously\nimbibed some hope. \u201cListen,\u201d he said, \u201cyou are a just man and a good\none. I will not bore you with technical names, nor narrate systems. On\nmy honor as a gentleman, on my reputation as a physician, backed up by\nthe proof of microscopical examinations and the expressed concurrence\nwith me of two of the most eminent dermatologists in the world, I\npronounce Hernando Genung cured.\u201d\n\nMr. De Vere grew dizzy and the doctor drew his chair near to wait\nuntil he felt able to hear the rest. \u201cTwo of my friends--the gentlemen\nmentioned--are snow-bound at Shushan. The road from there to Lock Hill\nis broken by oxen and from there I came down on a hand-car. If you\nsay so, I will return in the same manner and come down with Hernando\nand the two physicians, who wish to get back to the city as soon as\npossible.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre the trains running?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot yet, but they probably will be some time to-day.\u201d At that moment,\nthe warning whistle of a north-bound train sounded and Dr. Herschel\nrushed out of the house.\n\n\u201cDoctor!\u201d called Mr. De Vere, \u201cdo as you suggest by all means!\u201d\n\nReuben, too, had heard the whistle and off he started at the doctor\u2019s\nheels. Nothing but paths were as yet broken but his strong arms could\ncarry two of \u201cdem bressed chillen\u201d who he knew were in that train.\n\nJust as the train was about to stop, Reuben rushed breathlessly up the\nstation steps. \u201cSuah \u2019nough, deah young Massa Jack had come, but oh,\nhow changed!\u201d Rugged as a bear, brown and muscular, but the same \u201cMassa\nJack\u201d as of old.\n\n\u201cDora,\u201d said Jack, \u201cthis is Reuben, the guardian angel of our family!\u201d\n\nDora\u2019s eyes told Reuben that she had heard of him before and, greatly\nembarrassed, he took young Elisha and Celeste--one on each arm--and led\nthe way to The Laurels followed by the others.\n\nHalf way down the yard they were met by Celeste and Cornelia, and Dora\nconcluded that the De Veres must all be very much alike.\n\n\u201cSo this is Dora of whom I am inclined to be jealous,\u201d said Mrs. De\nVere, giving her a real motherly kiss.\n\nDora was dragged into the sitting-room and as she drank the fragrant\nhot coffee, which Margaret said was good for frost bites, she felt\nthat Jack had not over-rated the virtues of his family. She had rather\ndreaded meeting them and it had taxed her courage greatly when she\nthought of the dignified mother-in-law who must have strong ideas as to\nthe fitness of any woman to be the wife of her darling boy. But it was\na clear case of mutual respect and before Dora had spent an hour with\nher mother-in-law, she was ready to swear to all that Jack had said.\n\nCeleste and Elisha were now marshalled into the bathroom by \u201cAunt\nCeleste,\u201d while Dora took Jack-the-third under her protection.\n\nEvery nook in the dear old place was revisited by Jack. Lost in\nadmiration, he was gazing from the windows on the city below when he\nwas interrupted by his father who, in the excitement of their arrival,\nhad for the time being neglected to mention Hernando\u2019s restoration.\nMr. De Vere had just told his wife of Dr. Herschel\u2019s verdict and\nwas now in search of Jack on the same mission. Jack\u2019s experience in\nTexas, the land of surprises, had prepared him in a measure for this\noverwhelming one. He was speechless for a few moments and then said\nquietly, \u201cDr. Herschel\u2019s reputation is such that he would not make the\nstatement without proof to substantiate it. I am ready to believe it.\u201d\n\n\u201cHis home-coming must be as happy as lies in our power,\u201d said Mr. De\nVere fervently. \u201cI have telegraphed Eletheer and undoubtedly she will\nbe home this coming week.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I will help Margaret in getting his room ready,\u201d said Jack.\n\nMrs. De Vere and Margaret were already busy there. The room was open,\nthe windows flung wide to let in the sunlight and fresh air. Jack\nkindled a fire of fragrant birchwood. An odor of sweet clover from\nclean linen scented the room. All hands joined in converting the room\ninto a bower of loveliness. Elisha appeared with an immense bouquet of\nroses. These Celeste arranged on the table beside the latest magazine\nwhich Jack had brought from New York. Nothing was left undone and\neverything bespoke loving thoughtfulness.\n\nIn the kitchen Margaret was outdoing herself. Only too well did she\nremember Hernando\u2019s partiality for certain dishes and Reuben haunted\nthe city markets.\n\nIt was now five o\u2019clock and the first down train was due at six. All\nday long forces of men had been busy clearing the streets so that the\nmain ones were passable, and promptly at six Reuben reined up at the\nstation. Mr. De Vere sprang out of the sleigh, tramping impatiently\nback and forth. Six-twenty and still no train. What could be the\nmatter? Mr. De Vere\u2019s nervous strain was beginning to tell, and\nalthough accosted by several of his acquaintances, he did not heed; his\nmind was intent on one thing. The perspiration stood in drops on his\nforehead and every few seconds he took off his hat to wipe a bald spot\non the top of his head. Suddenly stopping, he called:\n\n\u201cReuben, have you seen Mr. Genung to-day?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, Massa, hyah he comes now,\u201d pointing up the street.\n\nDe Vere rushed madly down the steps to meet Genung and grasping the\nlatter\u2019s hand, whispered:\n\n\u201cI\u2019m expecting Hernando on the six o\u2019clock train; and cured! Now, for\nGod\u2019s sake don\u2019t make a fool of yourself!\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I\u2019m here for the same thing you are; but one fool is enough to\namuse this gaping crowd!\u201d Genung gasped with staring eyes.\n\nAt last the welcome whistle sounded and before the train came to a\nstandstill these two dignified men scrambled up the steps, heedless of\nthe brakeman\u2019s warning \u201cWait till the train stops.\u201d\n\nBut a pair of intensely blue eyes had seen it all from the platform and\ntheir owner gave a joyful exclamation as he sprang down to meet them,\nshouting,--\u201cUncle! Mr. De Vere!\u201d and his arms were around both their\nnecks.\n\nDr. Herschel, fearing a scene, hastily introduced Drs. Hinckle and Le\nCorr and hustled the three into a sleigh. He then signalled a cab and\nmotioned Reuben to proceed. \u201cDear me, these emotional Americans!\u201d he\nsaid, seating himself with the other physicians in the cab.\n\n\u201cA noble fellow,\u201d remarked Dr. Hinckle.\n\n\u201cInteresting psychologically,\u201d observed Dr. Le Corr.\n\n\u201cAnd personally,\u201d Dr. Herschel continued, who regarded Hernando as his\nown handiwork.\n\nFurther conversation was cut short by their arrival at the house.\nSurely, if appreciation of honest effort is gratitude, Dr. Herschel\nmust have been a happy man. The entire family from Mr. De Vere to\nMargaret burst into tears of joy.\n\nDr. Herschel blew his nose vigorously and, as every one else seemed\nto have lost his head, he took the part of host upon himself and\nushered them into the library. Mr. Genung was the first to collect\nhis scattered senses and, beckoning to Reuben, he said: \u201cMy good man,\nlead us in prayer.\u201d Reuben obeyed instantly, and every one knelt. For\na few seconds there was profound silence and then Reuben repeated word\nfor word the ninety-first Psalm. Though each may have interpreted it\ndifferently, every soul in that group _realized_ that God is \u201cfriendly.\u201d\n\nHernando\u2019s eyes looked bluer than ever under the snow-white curls. The\nold hurt look was gone and in its place was one pure and full of loving\ncompassion for the sufferings of others. The glow of perfect health was\nin his cheeks and his frame was vigorous. Mr. Genung hung about him as\none raised from the dead and, as Hernando lovingly stroked those locks,\nsilvered through sorrow for him, he again and again thanked them all\nfor their loyal friendship.\n\n\u201cMy life has been spared for some definite purpose and it shall be my\nduty to find out what that is,\u201d he concluded.\n\nDinner was announced--such a dinner! Here also, Hernando saw evidenced\nthe same kindly thought, the same endeavor to make him forget that he\nhad ever been away from them. It was a Thanksgiving dinner in very\ntruth, and in each one\u2019s heart was a prayer of gratitude.\n\nThe doctors wished to take the ten o\u2019clock train for New York City,\nso, after dinner, they, with Mr. De Vere and Mr. Genung, withdrew to\nthe library and as soon as they were seated, Mr. De Vere said, \u201cDr.\nHerschel, money cannot pay our debt of gratitude. It seems an insult\nto mention it in connection with such miraculous skill; but this is a\npractical world, and if you will allow us to place at your disposal a\ncertain sum, it could be used in any way you thought best.\u201d\n\n\u201cTo \u2018Old Ninety-Nine,\u2019 not me, is your gratitude due,\u201d Dr. Herschel\nreplied.\n\n\u201cAnd but for you his cure would without doubt be still unknown,\u201d broke\nin Mr. Genung. \u201cNo, modesty is an estimable trait but, giving \u2018Old\nNinety-Nine\u2019 due credit, our indebtness is to you.\u201d\n\n\u201c\u2018Old Ninety-Nine\u2019s\u2019 will more than pays me,\u201d returned the doctor in a\ntone so decided as to preclude further discussion. \u201cAnd,\u201d the doctor\ncontinued, \u201cas an \u2018immune,\u2019 Hernando\u2019s assistance will be invaluable to\nme, should he decide to give it.\u201d\n\nAt this both De Vere and Genung started. \u201cSurely, Doctor, you will not\nagain part us!\u201d they exclaimed.\n\n\u201cNot soon at any rate--perhaps never.\u201d\n\nIt was nearly train time and the doctors arose to leave with,--\u201cJust\nlet us slip off quietly. There has been quite enough excitement in the\nfamily for one day.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut you will not desert us, Doctor?\u201d De Vere protested.\n\n\u201cNo indeed. In the fall I propose going abroad for six months, but my\nearnest desire is that our friendly relations continue.\u201d And with a\nparting hand-shake they were gone.\n\nWho can describe Hernando\u2019s feelings as in his own room, so dainty\nand wholesome, he sat before the fire on this chill March night? We\nare told that in this life perfect happiness is never attained; some\nobstacle, some blot interposes just short of realization. But is this\nnot materialistic philosophy? Some one has said that,--\u201cIt is possible\nfor a man to so conquer the subjective world within himself that he may\nrule over the objective, thus bringing himself _en rapport_ with the\nharmonious vibrations of nature in a happiness vouchsafed only to those\nwho understand and obey her laws.\u201d Sweet was his sleep as he lay on the\nsoft bed that had once been Granny\u2019s, and who can say that she was not\ndrawn thither by the law of spiritual attraction?\n\nSaturday was a busy day in town. Reports of the blizzard\u2019s havoc were\nharrowing in the extreme. Relief expeditions were sent out to aid the\nsuffering mountaineers, still imprisoned in the mountains, some in a\nstarving condition. Several had lost their way in endeavoring to reach\ntown and had perished.\n\nAll hands joined in the good work and by night the greater part of the\nsufferers had been attended to.\n\n\u201cAnyway,\u201d said Mr. De Vere, \u201cterrible as was this storm, it does not\nequal the one they had out West in January. Two hundred and thirty\nlives were lost and the drop in the thermometer was one hundred\ndegrees.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut this one has extended over several States and we do not yet know\nhow many lives have been lost,\u201d his wife replied.\n\nIt was almost bedtime, the last north-bound train had arrived and no\nEletheer yet; so the family decided that she would not be home before\nMonday. Hernando and Jack recalled her old habit of surprising people\nand proposed going to meet the train anyway, but had abandoned the idea\nand were busy with Reuben at the barn.\n\nHowever, on receiving the telegram announcing Jack\u2019s arrival and the\nrestoration of Hernando, she as quickly as possible obtained permission\nto drop out until fall, and both she and Mary Genung--who was taking\na post-graduate course in a New England college--were aboard the\nnine-thirty express. Mr. Genung met the train and a long conversation\nfollowed, which accounted for Eletheer\u2019s late arrival home. She had\ndeveloped into an independent woman, giving promise of mental breadth,\nthough inclined to be opinionated; had entered the training school with\nrosy-hued visions of reforming the world through kindly ministrations\nand well-timed advice; but the probationary month quickly disillusioned\nher. The first principle to learn was absolute, unquestioned obedience\nto superior officers. Many were the bitter tears shed in secret, but\npride sustained her and she struggled on through hard facts, winning\nthe respect of all.\n\nMr. Genung left her at the gateway and, crunching the snow under her\nstout boots, she soon sprang up the steps and into the house. Her\nmanner was breezy and her greetings were characteristic. She regarded\nall demonstration of affection as nonsense, and this was generally\nunderstood. After shaking hands, she looked around inquiringly for Jack\nand Hernando.\n\n\u201cEat your supper and by the time you have finished, they will be in\nfrom the barn,\u201d said her mother, leading the way into the dining-room.\n\n\u201cI ate supper at Middleburg but will ask Margaret to get me some\ncrullers,\u201d and she darted past Mrs. De Vere into the kitchen, shouting,\n\u201cHello, Margaret!\u201d\n\n\u201cLaw me, Honey, how you do skeer a body!\u201d exclaimed the latter. \u201cI\nsholy is glad to see yo\u2019,\u201d and she produced the crullers with the\never-ready coffeepot.\n\n\u201cHow do you like Dora, Margaret?\u201d\n\n\u201cShe\u2019s just lubly. No po\u2019 w\u2019ite trash.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd the children? I\u2019m aunty, you know,\u201d with pride.\n\n\u201cDe bressed angels!\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd Jack looks like a cowboy, I fancy.\u201d\n\n\u201cLaw me, Honey--he\u2019s bigger\u2019n yo\u2019 pa\u201d--here her voice became full of\nawe--\u201cMassa Hernando, he do look jes\u2019 like St. John.\u201d\n\nEletheer finished her lunch in silence and then, throwing a shawl over\nher head, started for the barn, where she found them mending a harness.\n\nSo intent were they on their task that her appearance was unnoticed\nuntil she gave Jack a sound slap on the back, at the same time\nshouting,--\u201cHello, everybody!\u201d\n\n\u201cGood heavens! Eletheer. At your old tricks,\u201d Jack answered, whirling\nher around in a jig.\n\nHernando burst out laughing but managed to grasp her outstretched hand\nas they brushed past him.\n\nReuben\u2019s heart was full to overflowing. Once more to see his dear\nchildren gathered together in this world of meetings and partings! But\nhis feelings always under control, few guessed their depth.\n\n\u201cDear old Reuben,\u201d said Eletheer, impulsively flinging her arms around\nhis neck, \u201calways the same! I have you to thank for many valuable\npoints. In my daily rounds at the hospital your example is always\nbefore me.\u201d\n\n\u201cPshaw, Honey, yo\u2019se gwine to be a scientific nurse,\u201d he replied\noverwhelmed with confusion.\n\nJust here the clock struck eleven and they hurried into the house. Mr.\nand Mrs. De Vere had gone to bed but the others still sat before the\nlibrary fire.\n\n\u201cCeleste, sing for us,\u201d said Jack, bringing her guitar.\n\nShe hesitated.\n\n\u201cPlease do. I have heard no music since you sang for me,\u201d Hernando\nurged.\n\nInstantly she took up her guitar though it was some minutes before\nshe could control her voice, and then, her tones were pathetic; but\ngradually the musician conquered and she poured forth her soul in\nstrains divinely sweet and melting.\n\n\u201cYou have a rare gift in your voice, Celeste,\u201d said Hernando, when she\nhad put aside her guitar.\n\n\u201cI believe we all possess some talent,\u201d she returned.\n\n\u201cSo do I,\u201d he answered, \u201cand we will be held responsible for the use we\nmake of it. I am wondering for what purpose my life has been spared.\u201d\n\n\u201cAn earnest one, I am sure you will make it,\u201d said Eletheer. \u201cTell us\nabout your life at Shushan.\u201d\n\nAll but Hernando started at this allusion to that hateful place for,\nby common consent, they had avoided mentioning it. He, however, seemed\npleased as he said--\n\n\u201cDr. Herschel\u2019s Chinaman, Wing--my companion at Shushan--is a very\nintelligent man. He speaks several languages fluently and his own\nperfectly. I studied Chinese under him, also botany and astronomy. Like\nmyself, he was a leper. Our treatment, of course, consumed some time\nand aside from that we made astronomical observations, botanized and\nstudied. I must show you some rare specimens found among those rocks.\u201d\n\n\u201cOf what beside baths and hygiene did your treatment consist?\u201d Eletheer\nasked.\n\n\u201cPrepared snake venom, given hypodermically.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, how dreadful!\u201d cried Celeste, whom the very sight of a snake sent\ninto hysterics. \u201cWere you ever bitten by any of the snakes?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, immediately after arriving there, I received my first\ninjection--an infinitesimal amount, of course, and one which produced\nno toxic symptoms; but, strange as it may seem to you, none of the\nsnakes came near our cottage, and though frequently encountered and\nprovoked in our rambles, they did not retaliate. Wing, my companion,\ndid not arrive until some days after I did so I was in a measure\nprepared for the horrible sight he presented. His rigid forehead,\nentirely bare of eyebrows; the knotty, flattened nose; face and hands\ncompletely covered with leprous tubercles; immense ears and peculiar\nleper tones--but let us not dwell on this.\n\n\u201cDr. Herschel began treating him at once, and after a few days, during\nwhich he taught us his methods, we were left on honor to carry out\norders implicitly, with a promise that he would return in about six\nweeks.\n\n\u201cNeither Wing nor I had one grain of confidence, in fact, we regarded\nthe whole thing as a _fetish_ which, believed in, would undoubtedly\nassist the forces of nature in prolonging our miserable existence;\nbut the pathology of leprosy shows that to cure, something besides\nfaith is needed, and that something had never been discovered. But we\npersevered conscientiously, and instead of abandoning ourselves to\ndespair lived mechanically day by day. My rheumatic pains were greatly\nbenefited by the baths, and Wing\u2019s appetite surely spoke well for the\nbracing climate; but otherwise there was no perceptible change on Dr.\nHerschel\u2019s first visit to us.\n\n\u201cThree months passed by, six; surely I felt better than in years; but\npoor Wing! even in six months, I could see progress in the ravages of\nthe disease, but he made no complaint.\n\n\u201cOctober, and another visit from Dr. Herschel. He pronounced me better\nand my companion worse. Unpacking his bag, the doctor carefully took\nout two syringes and, filling both, emptied the contents of one into\nWing\u2019s cheek; then, baring one foot, the contents of the other\ninstrument were injected into it and Dr. Herschel told him to lie down,\nwhich he did.\n\n\u201cReally interested, I, too, watched results.\n\n\u201c\u2018Eureka!\u2019 Dr. Herschel shouted, springing to the side of Wing who lay\ngasping for breath, with every symptom of snake-bite poisoning.\n\n\u201c\u2018Thank you, Doctor,\u2019 I said, \u2018justice will neither call you a murderer\nnor that poor, accursed piece of flesh a felon.\u2019\n\n\u201cHe made no reply, only with finger on pulse remained immovable. An\nhour passed and still Dr. Herschel made no sign. Unable longer to\nendure the strain, I said, \u2018Is he conscious?\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018No. Prepare me a hypodermic of strychnine sulphate gr. one-fortieth,\u2019\nhanding me the instrument and bottle of tablets. This given, he again\nplaced his fingers over Wing\u2019s pulse. Wing was fast sinking into a\nstate of coma and every breath drawn seemed shorter.\n\n\u201c\u2018Nitro-glycerine, quick!\u2019 called the doctor.\n\n\u201cAgain the syringe was filled and emptied. All night long we\nwatched, and morning found poor Wing still alive. For a week he lay\nin a comatose condition, cruelly, to my way of thinking, kept alive\nby stimulants, and then delirium set in; mild at first, but growing\nwilder and wilder. Had I not known his abstemious habits, I should have\npronounced his case delirium tremens. All the terrifying illusions,\ndelusions and hallucinations were present, snakes, devils, enemies\nwere after him. Shouts for help brought no assistance and at last,\ncompletely exhausted, he would crouch on the floor, a picture of\nabject terror. With the greatest difficulty we managed to force down\nsufficient food to keep him alive, each paroxysm leaving him weaker\nuntil finally he lapsed into a low fever that lasted for weeks. Dr.\nHerschel never left us.\n\n\u201c\u2018Doctor,\u2019 I said to him one day as we stood together by our patient\u2019s\nbedside, \u2018those tubercles certainly look smaller!\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018And will look still smaller,\u2019 was his calm reply.\n\n\u201cI started and took a close look; the feet were without one! My heart\ngave a great bound and then seemed to stop.\n\n\u201c\u2018There, my boy,\u2019 said Dr. Herschel, \u2018calm yourself! \u2018Old\nNinety-Nine\u2019s\u2019 cave contained a rarer treasure than money and jewels.\u2019\n\n\u201cA tedious convalescence and Wing rose from his bed clean, not a mark\nleft to indicate that he had ever been a leper. His gratitude knew no\nbounds, and with the dawning of the new year, Dr. Herschel pronounced\nus both cured. However, for surety, we were to remain indefinitely\nat Shushan, now no hardship surely. How different life looked with\nan incentive to live; but, knowing the nature of the disease, we\ngratefully accepted this respite, and I can truthfully say that the\nremaining years there were the happiest of my life.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd in six years you have learned the secret of happiness,\u201d said\nEletheer meditatively.\n\n\u201cWhich is found through obedience to nature\u2019s laws,\u201d Hernando replied.\nThen, turning to Jack, he made minute inquiries regarding his mother\u2019s\nlast illness and death, again and again thanking him for his kindness,\nexpressing a desire to show some means of appreciation of the part Miss\nKurtz had taken in the vindication of his mother\u2019s character.\n\n\u201cI reckon you don\u2019t remember Tim Watson, Hernando,\u201d Jack asked.\nHernando replied in the negative, but his manner showed that they would\nnot long be strangers.\n\n\u201cWhy can\u2019t you go back with us when we return?\u201d\n\n\u201cI see no reason at present. It would give me great pleasure to do so.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, don\u2019t any one talk of going!\u201d cried Celeste.\n\n\u201cExcept to bed,\u201d Eletheer laughed.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII\n\n\nEvery day brought to light some new trait in Hernando\u2019s character. He\nseemed absolutely unselfish and always called up the noblest qualities\nin others. His interest in the mine was unabated and although Elisha\ninsisted upon relinquishing the position of superintendent, claiming he\nheld it only by proxy, Hernando refused so decidedly to accept that he\nwas obliged to desist. He consented, however, to become his assistant.\n\nAmong Cornelia\u2019s friends was a young Mr. Van Tine. He was a frequent\nvisitor at the house, nearly always forming one of their excursion\nparties; but Cornelia was looked upon by the family as simply a child,\nand Mr. Van Tine, whose father was one of the oldest settlers, had been\nCornelia\u2019s school-fellow so he was \u201cGeorge\u201d Van Tine to them all.\n\nMr. and Mrs. Van Tine lived on a farm in the outskirts of Nootwyck.\nThey were devout Methodists and intended that George, their only child,\nshould be a minister of that denomination. His education was shaped\naccordingly till the age of eighteen, when he flatly refused to follow\nthe ministry as a profession. Prayers that he might be brought to see\nthe error of his way followed, but he persisted. Next he was taken\nfrom school and set at learning a trade, that of ornamental painting.\nThis was something tangible and, having artistic taste, he excelled in\nit, and his parents became in a manner reconciled. They considered an\neducation as wholly unnecessary to a business life, as a sinful waste\nof time. George was a natural mechanic; as a child his tastes ran in\nthat direction. When he grew older he expressed a wish to become an\narchitect but this was tabooed. He, however, submitted a design and,\ncrude as it was, it showed genuine skill and received considerable\npraise. He simply waited his opportunity to perfect his talent.\n\nElisha and he were the best of friends. Cornelia had told the former\nof George\u2019s disappointment in not being able to receive a thorough\nbusiness education and, with characteristic readiness to aid others in\nany worthy object, Elisha took him under his own supervision with most\ngratifying results. Now, at twenty, George had obtained his parents\u2019\nconsent to enter the Institute of Mechanical Arts at Nootwyck, and in\ntwo years he looked forward to the attainment of his long-cherished\nambition.\n\nJune arrived with its sunshine and roses and one ideal morning before\nthe sun peeped over the mountain, the entire household at The Laurels,\nincluding George Van Tine, started by wagon for Sam\u2019s Point. The dewy\nair was fragrant with flowers and birds twittered joyously among the\ntrees. Deliciously fresh and cool seemed the old Berm which they were\nfollowing. Canal boats still crept sleepily on between Honesdale and\nRondout, but the old boating days were almost over and would soon\nexist only as a memory of something that had served a good purpose.\nPast the path to the ice caves where, in caverns hundreds of feet\ndeep, nature provides an abundant store of ice at all seasons of the\nyear. In their vicinity, the mountains seemed to have been rent by some\nconvulsion of nature that split the solid rocks into chasms from two\nto twelve feet wide, about one-half a mile in extent, and perhaps two\nhundred feet deep. Geologists say that they are not of volcanic action\nbut caused by the gradual cooling off of the earth\u2019s surface.\n\n[Illustration: Canal boats still crept sleepily on]\n\nSoon the road was steadily up and they halted frequently to rest the\nhorses and enjoy the view below. Dora had never seen the mountain\nlaurel, and the mountain sides were literally pink with blossoms.\n\n\u201cOh, how beautiful!\u201d she exclaimed, examining a superb bunch that\nHernando had picked for her. \u201cThe symbol of victory.\u201d\n\n\u201cI regret that this is not the \u2018Laurus Nobilis,\u2019\u201d Mr. De Vere replied.\n\u201cThat could not stand our climate. The Indians called this \u2018Spoonwood,\u2019\nand utilized the fine-grained knots for making spoons.\u201d\n\n\u201cSome of the old settlers about here call it \u2018Calico Bush,\u2019\u201d Eletheer\nlaughed. \u201cIs not the name appropriate?\u201d\n\n\u201cEletheer knocks the sentiment out of everything,\u201d Jack retorted. \u201cShe\nwill probably tell you, Dora, that the leaves are poisonous, so don\u2019t\neat them.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m hungry enough to eat anything,\u201d Dora replied.\n\n\u201cScore one for Dora,\u201d joined in Cornelia. \u201cI\u2019m thankful that we\u2019re\nalmost there.\u201d\n\nThose who have never visited Sam\u2019s Point can have no conception of the\ngrandeur of these rocks there piled in fantastic shapes. It needs but a\nlittle stretch of the imagination to believe one\u2019s self among medi\u00e6val\ncastles. One almost expects to see some plumed knight appear on the\nturret-like walls.\n\nThe trees are scattered, but a balsamy odor fills the air and the\nblending of colors makes the scene one of rare beauty.\n\nThey put out their horses and took dinner at an inn near the Point,\nand afterward ascended to the airy summit, where, lying down on the\nsmooth floor of rock which appears like a plaza, they looked out on a\nview sublimely beautiful, aptly described by a familiar writer: \u201cOn the\nsouth the view is bounded by the mountains of New Jersey; the Highlands\nof the Hudson lie to the southeast; with the white sails of sloops and\nthe smoke of steamers in Newburgh Bay, plainly visible to the naked\neye; the Housatonic Mountains of Connecticut bound the horizon on the\neast; the whole line of the Berkshires of Massachusetts and portions\nof the Green Mountains of Vermont may be seen to the northeast; while\nthe Heldebergs on the north, the Catskills and Shandaken Mountains on\nthe northwest, the Neversink on the west complete a panorama in some\nrespects unrivalled in America.\u201d Down at their feet lay the historic\nvalleys of Rondout and Wallkill.\n\n\u201cHow did this bold promontory get its name?\u201d inquired Dora.\n\n\u201cFrom an early settler by the name of Samuel Gonsalus,\u201d replied Mr. De\nVere. \u201cThe legend runs thus:\n\n\u201cHe was born in the present town of Mamakating, was reared in the midst\nof stirring scenes of frontier life and border warfare in which he\nafterward took a conspicuous part and was at last laid to rest in an\nunassuming grave in the vicinity where occurred the events which have\ncaused his name to be handed down with some luster in the local annals.\nHe lived on the west side of the mountain, a locality greatly exposed\nto Indian outrage, and his whole life was spent in constant danger. His\nknowledge of the woods and his intimate acquaintance with the haunts\nand habits of his savage neighbors rendered his service during the\nFrench and Indian War of inestimable value. He possessed many sterling\nqualities, not the least among which was an abiding devotion to the\ncause of his country. No risk of life was too imminent, no sacrifice of\nhis personal safety too great to deter him from the discharge of his\nduty.\n\n\u201cWhen the treacherous Indian neighbor planned a sudden descent on\nan unsuspecting settlement, Sam Consawley, as he was called, would\nhear rumors of the intended massacre in the air by means known only\nto himself, and his first act would be to carry the people warning of\ntheir danger. At other times he would join expeditions against bands\nof hostiles. It was on such occasions that he rendered such signal\nservice. Though not retaining any official recognition, it was known\nthat his voice and counsel largely controlled in the movements of the\narmed bodies with which he was associated, those in command yielding to\nhis known skill and sagacity.\n\n\u201cHis fame as a hunter and Indian fighter was not confined to the circle\nof his friends and associates. The savages both feared and hated him.\nMany a painted warrior had he sent to the Happy Hunting-grounds. Many a\ntime had they lain in wait for him, stimulated both by revenge and by\nthe proffer of a handsome bounty on his scalp, but he was always too\nwary for even the wily Indian.\n\n\u201cIn September, 1753, a scalping party of Indians made a descent into\nthe country east of the Shawangunks. The warriors were from the\nDelaware and had crossed by the old Indian trail leading through the\nmountain paths known as \u2018The Traps.\u2019 Their depredations in the valley\nhaving alarmed the people, they were returning by this trail, closely\npursued by a large body from the settlements. At the summit of the\nmountain, the party surprised Sam who was hunting by himself.\n\n\u201cAs soon as the savages saw him, they gave a warwhoop and started in\npursuit. Now was an opportunity, thought they, to satisfy their thirst\nfor revenge. Sam was a man of great physical strength and a fleet\nrunner. Very few of the savages could outstrip him in an even race, but\nthe Indians were between him and the open country and the only way left\nwas toward the precipice. He knew all the paths better than did his\npursuers and he had already devised a plan of escape while his enemies\nwere calculating on effecting his capture, or his throwing himself from\nthe precipice to avoid a more horrible death at their hands. He ran\ndirectly to the Point and pausing shouted defiance at his pursuers,\nand leaped from a cliff over forty feet in height. As he expected, his\nfall was broken by a clump of hemlocks into the thick foliage of which\nhe had directed his jump. He escaped with only a few slight bruises.\nThe Indians came to the cliff but could see nothing of their enemy, and\nsupposing him to have been mutilated and killed among the rocks and\nbeing themselves too closely pursued to admit of delay in searching\nfor a way down to the foot of the ledge, they resumed their flight,\nsatisfied that they were rid of him. But Sam was not dead as some of\nthem afterwards found to their sorrow. To commemorate this exploit and\nalso to bestow some form of recognition of his numerous services, this\nprecipice was named \u2018Sam\u2019s Point.\u2019\u201d\n\n[Illustration: Sam\u2019s Point]\n\nDora shivered as she looked down into the abyss below, into the\nveritable clump of hemlocks where Sam landed; but Jack recalled her to\nherself: \u201cIf we are to take in Lake Maratanza we\u2019d better get a start\non.\u201d\n\n\u201cLake Maratanza!\u201d she exclaimed. \u201cUp here among the clouds?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d he returned, \u201cand it is the least beautiful of four lakes\nrunning along the summit of the mountain,--Maratanza, Awosting,\nMinnewaska and Mohonk.\u201d\n\nA brisk half-mile walk over the pavement-like rocks bordered with\nhuckleberry bushes and stunted pines brought them to the lake, a\nbeautiful sheet of pure, soft water whose surface was rippling in the\nslight breeze and sparkling with innumerable gems in the brilliant\nsunlight.\n\nDora was lost in wonder--\u201cWhere does the water come from?\u201d\n\n\u201cSome time ago at a meeting of scientists that very question came up\nfor discussion but no definite conclusion was arrived at,\u201d said Mr.\nDe Vere. \u201cIn my opinion it comes from drainage. The lake lies in a\ndepression and on three sides the shores are composed of shelving rock\nwhich slopes toward the lake. These rocks are thickly covered with\nmoss and bushes and the moss absorbs all moisture falling on it, and,\nas the evaporation is slight, it gradually drains into the lake. To\nsubstantiate this, the one shore which is more depressed forms an\noutlet for the water after it has risen to a certain height and from\nwhich issues a gurgling brook. In times of drought the water recedes\nand the brook ceases to flow.\u201d\n\n\u201cMaratanza\u201d she mused, \u201canother of your beautiful Indian names.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d replied Mr. De Vere, \u201cLake Maratanza was recorded as such in\nthe old capital of Ulster County over one hundred years ago, and\nderived its name from a Delaware squaw who, with her little papoose,\nwas drifting idly over the surface of the lake in a birch-bark canoe\nwhen the first white man came to its shores. Suddenly her dark-eyed\nmate concealed among the bushes near cried out: \u2018Maratanza, white man\u2019s\ncome!\u2019\n\n  \u201c\u2018Indian ghosts are all about us,\n      And \u2019tis whispered \u2019mong the pines:\n    Maratanza\u2019s shade still wanders\n      O\u2019er the lake in cloudy lines.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cAllow me to present you with the first huckleberries of the season,\nDora,\u201d said Hernando, handing her a sprig of fully ripened berries.\n\u201cShawangunk berries are famous.\u201d\n\n\u201cHuckleberries? I have never tasted one. They are delicious,\u201d Dora\nreplied.\n\n\u201cJust wait till you taste Margaret\u2019s huckleberry cobblers!\u201d said Jack;\n\u201cm, m----it makes my mouth water to think of it!\u201d\n\nBut the sun was getting low and even now the shadows were beginning to\ncreep up the mountains so they reluctantly turned away from the lake.\n\nBefore they arrived at the inn where their conveyances were, the sun\nhad gone down behind old Neversink, leaving one of those gorgeous June\nplays of color seen only in mountainous regions. Slowly the mountains\nbecame purple, then gray in the soft twilight, and gradually faded from\nview altogether. Soon the din of active life reached the ear and they\nemerged onto the Berm.\n\nAll were greatly affected by the events of the day and each communed\nwith himself. To Dora, it was the event of her life. She felt lifted\nout of the prosaic ruts onto a more exalted plane.\n\nMargaret had supper waiting for them when they reached home and it was\nduly disposed of by the hungry party. Mr. and Mrs. De Vere retired soon\nafter and thinking her absence would be unnoticed, Eletheer stole away\nto her private study and was so deeply absorbed in her work that she\ndid not hear a light tap on her door.\n\n\u201cMay I come in?\u201d said Hernando.\n\n\u201cCertainly,\u201d she replied, opening wide the door.\n\nThey sat before the open window and she laid aside her book, turning\ncheerily toward him.\n\n\u201cEletheer,\u201d he said, \u201cI believe you graduate next year. Does that mean\nthat your future work is mapped out?\u201d\n\n\u201cI think so,\u201d she replied earnestly. \u201cThe ambition of my life has been\nand is to become a trained nurse.\u201d\n\n\u201cFollowing one\u2019s vocation should, and does, bring success. Dr. Herschel\nfeels confident that you are on the right trail and that training will\ndevelop an inherited talent for nursing.\u201d\n\n\u201cA high compliment truly, and one that I appreciate. Nursing is,\nindeed, a sacred calling, a calling that requires rare gifts; but I\nsometimes wonder if all nurses fully appreciate its true significance.\nIt surely does not mean that we have forsaken the world and all its\npleasures for the sweet joy of ministering to the afflicted, in other\nwords, that the woman is wholly absorbed in the nurse. I see the force\nof Dr. Herschel\u2019s argument which is, that nursing is neither an order,\na trade, nor a means of earning a livelihood; but that it must ultimate\nin a profession filled almost exclusively by women. Our American\nhospitals, though second only to those of England in point of equipment\nfor the training of nurses, are still imperfect. From a small beginning\nactuated by humane motives, of necessity, nursing has assumed vast\nproportions. Like all other avenues of human activity, the bad crops\nout with the good and many a conscientious nurse suffers for the sins\nof one who has crept in. Then, too, expert training is a necessity.\nNow a good registration law would materially lessen many existing\nevils. Any nurse who has earned the right to affix \u2018R. N.\u2019 to her name\nwould be known as one who had met the requirements of such law and was\nlegally responsible thereto.\n\n  \u201c\u2018New occasions teach new duties,\n      Time makes ancient good uncouth;\n    We must upward still and onward,\n      Who would keep abreast of truth.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cTrue,\u201d replied Hernando, \u201cthese are the days of expert training. The\ndoctor\u2019s assistant must keep his pace but I am sure you will agree\nwith me that while nineteenth century conditions may teach nurses\n\u2018new duties,\u2019 it behooves them all to remember that their distinctly\nfeminine attributes, gentleness, tenderness, sympathy, may still be\nretained and yet keep \u2018abreast of truth.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, indeed; we might learn a lesson from Reuben. He and his race are\nthe \u2018natural nurses.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd through the sympathy which nurses only can give, they touch the\nchord which even a mother cannot reach. Dr. Herschel\u2019s discovery is the\nmarvel of the age; but I know that without Reuben\u2019s help, my case would\nhave been a failure.\u201d\n\n\u201cSometimes,\u201d said Eletheer hesitatingly, \u201cI think that Reuben possesses\nthe \u2018sixth sense.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cReuben is one of those rare characters \u2018we read of,\u2019\u201d replied Hernando.\n\nThey heard the back stairway door open, close, and then Reuben\u2019s\nmeasured tread up the back stairs. As he was passing Eletheer\u2019s door on\nhis evening rounds both she and Hernando called to him to join them.\n\n\u201cLaw me, chillen,\u201d he said with beaming eyes, \u201cI\u2019se po\u2019ful glad to see\nyou togetha once mo\u2019.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd,\u201d said Eletheer with her old impetuosity, \u201cHernando feels that but\nfor you, one of our number would be missing.\u201d\n\nReuben looked reprovingly at her, and Hernando added:\n\n\u201cI do in very truth, my friend. I know that your prayers in my behalf\nare answered.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, Massa, an\u2019 I know it too. De good Lord allus ansus \u2019em. Yo\u2019 know\nwhat de Good Book says,--\u2018Ask an\u2019 yo\u2019 shall receive.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cI know that,\u201d said Eletheer, \u201cbut on one condition only are our\nprayers to be answered, and that is an unreasonable one: \u2018Believe that\nyou have received it.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cOb co\u2019se, Honey; but to my way ob t\u2019inkin\u2019 dat am a bery reasonable\ncondishun, we hab \u2018received it.\u2019 De good Lawd done finished His work.\nYo\u2019 see, Honey, de p\u2019int am jes\u2019 hyah,--we\u2019se sunk in trespass an\u2019 sin,\ngot blin\u2019 eyes an\u2019 deaf ea\u2019s. What\u2019s de sense in pleadin\u2019 an\u2019 coaxin\u2019\nde good Lawd to give us a lot ob t\u2019ings when we aint usin\u2019 what we\u2019s\ngot?\u201d\n\n\u201cThen,\u201d said Eletheer, \u201cwhen you asked God to cure Hernando, you\nhonestly and truly believed that He would do it?\u201d\n\n\u201cSho\u2019s yo\u2019 bo\u2019n I did, Honey.\u201d\n\n\u201cI know you did, Reuben, and \u2018without a doubt in your heart,\u2019\u201d said\nHernando.\n\n\u201cOb co\u2019se; an\u2019 along comes Doctah Herschel!\u201d\n\n\u201cYou blessed old Reuben!\u201d said Eletheer, giving his arm a squeeze.\n\u201cI believe you can do anything; but wouldn\u2019t Dr. Herschel have come\nanyway?\u201d\n\n\u201cDat am ezackly de p\u2019int, Honey. De good Lawd already done His part.\nHe done gib Doctah Herschel de talent an\u2019 de wisdom to go sperimentin\u2019\nan\u2019 projeckin\u2019 wif dat bery ge\u2019m till he found a cuah in \u2018Old\nNinety-Nine\u2019s\u2019 will. Yes, Honey, he was bo\u2019n fo\u2019 dis bery place and de\ngood Lawd sent him.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou mean, Reuben,\u201d said Hernando, \u201cthat our every need is met.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, Massa, when we\u2019se _willin\u2019_!\u201d\n\n\u201cI agree with you,\u201d Hernando added, \u201cand it is becoming more and\nmore clear what I have been in training for: Dr. Herschel proposes\nfounding a hospital for lepers at Hong Kong. It will need intelligent\nsupervision and my own case, together with a knowledge of Chinese\nacquired at Shushan, seems to have fitted me for just that work.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt do look as if yo\u2019d been specially \u2019lected to dat mission. De\nflesh-pots ob Egypt don\u2019t tempt yo\u2019 no mo\u2019; de Red Sea am behin\u2019 yo\u2019\nan\u2019 yo\u2019 ken show dem po\u2019 heathens by pussunel \u2019sperience dat de desert\nan\u2019 mountains am jes\u2019 dis side ob de Promised Lan\u2019; but, Massa,\u201d\nhere Reuben\u2019s voice vibrated like a deep-toned bell, \u201cde good Lawd\nwants His chillen to be happy, to be de\u2019 bery bestest selbes. He done\nmade ebery_t\u2019ing_ good jes\u2019 a pu\u2019pose fo\u2019 dem to use. De Good Book\nsays,--\u2018Happy am de man dat findeth wisdom, an\u2019 de man dat getteth\nundastandin\u2019\u2019--\u2018All huh ways am ways ob pleasantness, an\u2019 all huh paths\nam peace.\u2019 Yo\u2019se plumb kuahed now, got back to de fo\u2019cks ob de road\nan\u2019 de\u2019s on\u2019y two, de right one an\u2019 de wrong one; an\u2019 onless de one\np\u2019intin\u2019 to Hong Kong ansahs de call f\u2019um de bery bottom ob yo\u2019 hea\u2019t,\nonless dat ansah comes so natrel-like dat it don\u2019t take no strainin\u2019\nto go, yo\u2019 won\u2019t fin\u2019 wisdom dat-away an\u2019 it aint de path ob peace.\u201d\nAfter a pause he resumed: \u201cI reckon dat strainin\u2019 am f\u2019um de Debbil.\nHit makes sich a roarin\u2019 in de ea\u2019s dat we can\u2019t heah de \u2018still small\nvoice\u2019 allus a-tellin\u2019 de truf. Yes,\u201d he concluded, \u201cdat\u2019s _strainin\u2019_\nan\u2019 de p\u2019int.\u201d\n\nHernando gave an imperceptible start. \u201cCured.\u201d Yes, he was cured, had\nthe right to a place beside other men in this world of affairs. A\nright good old world it was, too, with its triumphs and defeats, its\njoys and its sorrows, its \u201cmarryings and giving in marriage!\u201d \u201cCured!\u201d\nWhat hopes that word awoke in him, thrilling him with a sweetness that\ndefied analysis. Had the wise man really found wisdom, and were _all_\nher ways \u201cways of pleasantness and all her paths peace\u201d? Why, oh, why\ndid this old world of unrest, of human desires still call to him! Had\nhe not renounced it that he might win a better? Surely it could have no\nclaims on him now. Yet a wave almost of resentment surged over him at\nthe thought.\n\n\u201cMassa!\u201d\n\nHernando turned absently toward his questioner and did not notice that\nEletheer\u2019s chair was empty.\n\nReuben waited a few seconds and then said softly,--\u201cMassa, we can\u2019t\ntake de Kingdom of Hebben by sto\u2019m.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou\u2019re right, of course, Reuben,\u201d Hernando answered, giving himself a\nmental shake. \u201cI\u2019m afraid I\u2019m a poor soldier anyway.\u201d\n\n\u201c\u2019Scuse me, Massa, mebbe yo\u2019se done been fightin\u2019 undah de wrong Cap\u2019n;\nan\u2019 mebbe agin taint no use fightin\u2019 nohow; jes\u2019 let de Kingdom ob\nHebben take yo\u2019.\u201d\n\nHernando leaned slightly nearer, and Reuben went on,--\u201cNow taint no\nmakin\u2019 b\u2019lieve \u2019bout dis gibin\u2019 up, like dem po\u2019 sinnahs what hollahs\namen, \u2019thout takin\u2019 de mo\u2019nah\u2019s bench. Hit\u2019s got \u2019o be a _willin\u2019_\nsacrifice. We mus\u2019 git right down on our knees an\u2019 hollah f\u2019um de bery\nbottom ob de hea\u2019t,--\u2018Oh, Lawdy, Lawdy, hyah am ebery_t\u2019ing_ I got in\ndis wo\u2019l \u2019thout no stipylations!\u2019 Den we mus\u2019 trus\u2019 de good Lawd an\u2019 be\n_glad_ to trabel back to de fo\u2019cks of de road; an\u2019 w\u2019en dis trablin\u2019\ndo seem like hit aint neber goin\u2019 to en\u2019, we must \u2019member de promise:\n\u2018God am a bery present frien\u2019 in time ob need.\u2019\u201d\n\nHernando\u2019s face twitched as he looked at Reuben. What did he see? An\nold black man? The vision belonged to Hernando alone; he seemed to hear\na clock strike \u201cI! II!\u201d Hear the soft crackle of dying embers on the\nhearth in a room filled with shadows, feel a trembling old hand press\nhis own in sympathy while they two \u201cmade sacrifice.\u201d Was his sacrifice\n\u201cwilling,\u201d was he glad to go to Shushan and _had_ he remembered the\n\u201cpromise\u201d? And yet in those six years he thought he had \u201cworked out\u201d\nhis \u201cown salvation,\u201d found the secret of happiness, sounded the\ndoctrine of trust, drawn the specifications for a useful life in which\nthe old world had no part. Yes, only _thought_; for that old world kept\ncalling, calling--and oh it was like sweet music in his ears!\n\n\u201cJust let the Kingdom of Heaven take you.\u201d\n\nWhat else had he been doing for years, Hernando thought.\n\n\u201cHave you _submitted_ those specifications?\u201d\n\nThe voice sounded so near that Hernando looked quickly at Reuben; but\napparently he had not moved a muscle since his last remark. Whence\ncame that voice? All else was still; even the rustling leaves outside\nseemed to wait like the enchanted fairies, for his answer, while that\nrelentless question dinned in his ears.\n\n\u201cHave you _submitted_ those specifications?\u201d\n\nYes, had he? Hernando\u2019s tension relaxed somewhat at the admission of\nan honest doubt, and the dinning in his ears grew fainter before the\nincoming light. Alas! no, the Bar of Justice before whom all plans\nmust go had not passed on his. The dinning in his ears ceased; and\nthen something, that Something which comes to each of us when self is\nmelted into the sincere desire for truth for truth\u2019s sake, flashed upon\nhim. Only a flash, a glimpse of the real; but Hernando caught it, saw\nthat _his message had been received_, knew that at the right time, and\nin the best way, the call from the very bottom of his heart would be\n_answered_.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV\n\n\nIf one cloud dimmed the happiness of the De Vere household on the\nfollowing morning, it was too small to be seen. Reuben awoke with\nthe birds and from the chicken yard ominous squawks foretold what\nwould constitute one item in the bill-of-fare for breakfast. \u201cMolly,\u201d\nCornelia\u2019s Jersey cow, was poking her nose through the bars ready\nto contribute a generous supply of rich milk, and soon afterward\nMargaret\u2019s \u201cCo, boss!\u201d made her step lightly aside while with shining\npail that worthy woman lowered the bars and entered the barnyard.\n\n\u201cOh, Reuben!\u201d she shouted, \u201cwhat yo\u2019 doin\u2019 to dem chickens? I \u2019clare to\ngoodness, yo\u2019ll drive me plumb crazy.\u201d\n\n\u201cNebba yo\u2019 min\u2019 dem chickens! Yo\u2019 jes\u2019 pay \u2019tention to Molly.\u201d\n\nHe appeared just then around the corner of the barn with three headless\nchickens, and as his wife\u2019s glance fell on them, she exclaimed, with\nuplifted hands,--\u201cFo\u2019 de lan\u2019 sake, ef yo\u2019 aint done gone an\u2019 killt de\nbaby\u2019s dominick pullet!\u201d\n\nReuben\u2019s crest-fallen countenance softened her heart, however, and she\nsaid no more and was soon on a stool beside Molly. Did she miss old\nassociates in the sunny South? If so, no one knew it; as with Reuben,\nMassa John and Miss Bessie\u2019s world was hers, and had they gone to the\nwilds of Siberia, these two faithful servants would have followed and\nbeen content.\n\nCornelia\u2019s face sparkling with perfect health just then peeped out of\nthe kitchen door. She was going \u201cafter an appetite,\u201d she declared, and\nskipping past Margaret was soon climbing to a point beyond and above\nthe barn. Reuben\u2019s heart smote him as he thought of the \u201cdominick\npullet,\u201d and he called out to the fast vanishing figure,--\u201cOh, Miss\nCornelia, don\u2019t yo\u2019 forget Molly\u2019s salt!\u201d\n\nShe threw back a laughing glance and ran her hand into her pocket, a\nmotion he understood, and disappeared from view. She was passionately\nfond of animals and particularly of horses. Reuben often declared, \u201cDat\nchile aint afraid of nuffin on fo\u2019 legs.\u201d She certainly understood\nand loved them and was an accomplished horsewoman; but this morning\nher visit to the barn was a short one and, turning a sharp angle in\nthe path, her blue dress fluttered in and out among the bushes as she\nwandered away upward.\n\nUnseen by her, from a projecting rock above, a pair of eyes as blue\nas her dress was watching her, as she sprang from rock to rock, every\nmotion perfect grace. Pausing, she glanced upward and saw Hernando.\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d she laughed, \u201cwhat brings you out so early?\u201d\n\n\u201c\u2018Great minds run in the same channel,\u2019 doubtless I am hunting for the\nsame thing you are.\u201d\n\n\u201cA bath in the morning dew?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou certainly do not need one, and I am looking for a very prosaic\narticle, known as an \u2018appetite.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m pretty well drabbled,\u201d she said demurely, not noticing his look of\nadmiration. \u201cBut come, I\u2019m not like Eletheer, Mr. Gallant, help me to a\nseat up there beside you.\u201d\n\nHe was already preparing to do so and, taking off his coat, he spread\nit on the rock, which was still damp with dew, and they sat down\ntogether.\n\nIt was not yet seven, the busy city below them had not yet fully\nwakened and the air was fresh and sweet. To Hernando, the girl beside\nhim had always been simply \u201cCornelia, the baby.\u201d Like Eletheer, he\ntoo had noticed George Van Tine\u2019s marked attentions to her but he had\nalso noticed that they were not objectionable, and he wondered if she\nfully understood the seriousness of marriage. Just now she was looking\nintently down among the rocks and bushes and he said gently,--\u201c\u2018A penny\nfor your thoughts.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019m just wondering if my guineas could have stolen their nest in that\nthicket,\u201d she answered, pointing to where her glance had been directed.\n\nRestraining a laugh, he asked,--\u201cAre they up to that sort of thing?\u201d\n\n\u201cUp to it? Well I should say so. They deliberately hide them, and are\nnoted for their bad behavior in that line. Mine have completely eluded\ndiscovery. But I love them, though Eletheer says their cry reminds her\nof a rusty pump.\u201d\n\nWhat could he say to this child, and how assist Eletheer in her\nsisterly efforts in what she believed her duty? As Eletheer said,\nCornelia was indeed gifted with an unusual voice which might bring\nfame. She also was \u201cyoung to make a choice which might be regretted\nlater.\u201d \u201cBut after all,\u201d he thought, \u201cthese matters are better let\nalone when there is nothing radically wrong, and I see nothing in this\ncase.\u201d Why break the spell which held her a willing captive? To what\nnobler use could her voice be put than bringing sweet sounds into a\ngood man\u2019s home where, surrounded by husband and children, she would\nbe shielded from temptation? Surely in that, she could find nothing to\nregret.\n\nHe glanced toward the hills among which lay Shushan, where the last\nsix years of his own life had been spent, and his mind reverted back\nto that awful night of his banishment when life seemed a mockery and\nannihilation a bliss. Further back still, he sees a kind old face\ncrowned with silvery hair and tears of pity filling her eyes. \u201cDear old\ngranny,\u201d he thought, \u201cyour prayer for mercy is answered; and though we\nmay view things differently, we look in the same direction.\u201d\n\nThe city was stirring now and the busy hum of life had begun. Whistles\nfrom the factories and mills were calling to work. Seven o\u2019clock, and\nthe distant screech of a locomotive told of the nearing of Ulster\nExpress.\n\n\u201cI feel it in my bones that we\u2019ll have company for breakfast,\u201d said\nCornelia, rising and standing on tip-toe to see how many passengers got\noff. Cornelia\u2019s \u201cfeelings\u201d were a family joke, but Hernando also arose\nand looked down the road, more to keep his companion from falling than\nfrom any expectancy of \u201ccompany for breakfast.\u201d\n\nThe station was in plain sight and as they turned their heads in\nthat direction, a very singular-looking passenger jumped from the\ntrain, satchel in hand, clearing the steps at a bound. He was clad in\na hickory shirt, blue jean trousers and brogans. On his head was a\nbroad-brimmed, soft felt hat. Apparently he stopped to question one\nof the station men for the latter pointed toward the mountain and he\nstarted up that way.\n\n\u201cWho on earth can he be!\u201d said Cornelia, clapping her hands in\nexcitement.\n\n\u201cHe looks and walks like a cowboy,\u201d replied Hernando. \u201cCome, let\u2019s go\ndown. This time, at least, your presentiment seems a true one.\u201d\n\nBut for Hernando\u2019s restraining hand, she would have jumped from the\nrock on which they were sitting; by dint of engineering, however, he\nkept her within bounds until they reached the back yard, when she\nstarted for the house on a keen run. Rushing past Margaret, whose hands\nwere uplifted in disgust, she burst into the dining-room with cheeks\nthat vied with the roses on the breakfast table.\n\n----\u201cAnd this, Mr. Watson, is our daughter Cornelia,\u201d said Mr. De Vere,\nlaying his hand on her shoulder.\n\nLike Jack, Cornelia was instantly won. All she saw was those same\nhonest blue eyes and though his grip made her knuckle-bones ache, she\nbore it without flinching. His admiring glance made her cheeks rosier\nthan ever.\n\n\u201cNow that you have seen us all, I am aware of an uneasy sensation in\nthat region of my anatomy known as the stomach, and Margaret\u2019s coffee\nsmells mighty good. Shall we sample it?\u201d said Jack, and without more\nceremony they sat down to breakfast.\n\nContrary to her usual custom, Cornelia remained silent. She glanced\nuneasily towards the door and finally, unable longer to keep quiet,\nsaid, \u201cI wonder what keeps Hernando?\u201d\n\n\u201cSure enough where is he? How thoughtless we are!\u201d Mrs. De Vere\nanswered, rising and starting towards the hall. \u201cAh, here you are, Mr.\nTruant,\u201d she laughed, as the door at that moment opened. \u201cCome and meet\nan old friend!\u201d\n\n\u201cAn ever friend,\u201d he corrected, advancing toward Watson with extended\nhand.\n\nThe latter grasped it with a true Texan grip but his expression of\nsympathy gave place to one of amazement as he looked into that pure\nface. No marks of resentment or disease there, only an expression of\nabsolute self-forgetfulness and charity for the weaknesses of others.\n\nWatson\u2019s vindictive feelings toward Mills faded away. Such were out of\nplace here and his customary \u201cdoggone it\u201d escaped without his knowing\nexactly why.\n\nThe bright morning sunlight streamed into the room as if to accentuate\nthe happy faces around the breakfast-table. Watson, to all but\nMargaret, seemed to have simply dropped into his place. Her feelings\nwere beyond analysis but she confidentially whispered to Reuben as she\nreturned to the kitchen to get more hot muffins, \u201cHe aint no kwolty.\u201d\n\nMany were the questions to be asked and answered and in consequence,\nit was nearly nine o\u2019clock before breakfast was over; then Watson\nfound himself the center of an admiring group. First of all, he was\nbuttonholed by Jack and his laugh, hearty as the winds of his own\nState, made the walls ring, and all involuntarily joined.\n\n\u201cYou ought to be a very happy man, Mr. De Vere,\u201d he said, addressing\nthe latter.\n\n\u201cI am,\u201d Mr. De Vere replied. \u201cOnly a few years ago this beautiful\ncity was a mere hamlet. The wonderful resources of this valley were\nundeveloped and no prospect of better conditions.\u201d\n\nHe looked musingly in the direction of the mine. \u201cHernando came to us\nand proved \u2018Old Ninety-Nine\u2019 no myth--of course you know the history?\u201d\nMr. De Vere interjected.\n\n\u201cYes, and Jack tells me you have in your possession one of his ears,\npetrified.\u201d\n\n\u201cHad,\u201d corrected Mr. De Vere, \u201cbut no curious eyes shall scrutinize\nwhat should not be an object of curiosity. Dr. Herschel pronounced it\nthe ear of a leper, so I destroyed the poor deformed member, and the\nstatue of \u2018Old Ninety-Nine\u2019 soon to be unveiled in Delaware Park, is\nsuch as he must have been in his prime. You must get Hernando to tell\nyou of his life at Shushan.\u201d\n\n\u201cDoes he speak of it?\u201d Watson inquired aghast. \u201cI\u2019ve been afraid I\u2019d\nlet something slip. Poor boy, poor boy!\u201d\n\n\u201cPoor boy, indeed!\u201d Jack retorted. \u201cWhy, Watson, he loves to, and the\nrugged hills of Shushan are to him the most beautiful spot on earth.\u201d\n\n\u201cHis face haunts me,\u201d said Watson. \u201cDoes he ever say anything about\nMills?\u201d\n\n\u201cOften, and always with compassion.\u201d\n\nWatson was silent, and just then Cornelia came into the room and\ndragged him off to inspect her horse, as Jack had told her of his\nreputation as a judge of horseflesh. He went willingly enough, for\nhis ideas on the subject under discussion were not quite clear, and\nhe also felt a trifle elated at the prospects of showing off the good\npoints of a horse to such an attractive listener. They could not have\nmore than reached the barn, when Mr. Genung was announced.\n\nEvidently he was in ignorance of Watson\u2019s arrival; had simply \u201cdropped\nin\u201d on his way to the mine where, as one of the largest stock-holders,\nhis influence was felt. Although unpopular with the miners, all\nadmitted him to be just according to his convictions and his advice\nsound. Hernando\u2019s trouble had aged him greatly. His once black hair was\nthickly strewn with grey and after the greetings were over, he sank\ninto a chair quite exhausted. Eletheer slipped unobserved from the room\nand shortly returned with a cup of coffee, well knowing Mr. Genung\u2019s\nweakness. He accepted it gratefully, saying, \u201cAh, my dear, you have\nchosen the right profession!\u201d\n\n\u201cIf all my duties were to be as pleasant as this, I have certainly\nselected an easy one,\u201d she laughed.\n\n\u201cBy the way,\u201d he said, \u201cI am the bearer of a message from Dr. Brinton\nto you. He was driving like mad up Lombardy Street, but seeing my\ndirection, I presume, halted long enough to say that he would like to\nhave you call at his office this afternoon. Dr. Herschel was with him.\nNow,\u201d handing her the empty cup, \u201cI have delivered the message, and you\nmay refer him to me for recommendation.\u201d\n\nConversation drifted into generalities and Eletheer went to help her\nmother in household duties.\n\nEletheer was not given to presentiments, but the mention of Dr.\nHerschel\u2019s name made her shiver. She always thought of him in\nconnection with that awful night of Hernando\u2019s departure for Shushan\nand could barely restrain her excitement at the thought of meeting\nhim for, in her eyes, he was all-powerful. \u201cRidiculous,\u201d she thought,\ngiving herself a mental shake. \u201cI\u2019m a goose to be nervous, and very\nlikely he is not in any way concerned with Dr. Brinton\u2019s message to me.\u201d\n\nHer hands and feet kept time with her busy brain and long before noon\nno trace of disorder was to be seen. As Mrs. De Vere often lamented,\nshe was not \u201clike other girls.\u201d Generous to a fault and charitable\ntoward her friends, yet, like Granny, she would not tolerate weakness\nnor a deviation from her standard of right.\n\nDuring her grandmother\u2019s lifetime, her religious training was strictly\nin accordance with the teachings of the Reformed Dutch Church. The\nBible, including punctuation marks, she had been taught to regard as\na direct revelation from God and her childish doubts were sternly\nrebuked. After the old lady\u2019s death, other influences crept in and\nassociation with people of expanded minds created a tumult in her\nnaturally analytical brain. But the first impression was too deep to be\ncompletely obliterated, and though she could not conscientiously become\na member of the church in whose doctrine she had been so thoroughly\ngrounded, any imputation that her belief in it was weak was resented\nuntil obliged to admit that it was true, and even then she recoiled\nfrom the thought. Hernando\u2019s troubles stirred the smouldering fires\nanew, and later from her experience among suffering humanity at the\ntraining school, where the physicians and surgeons, and in fact the\nentire hospital staff, were decidedly unorthodox, she was obliged to\nsay when asked her belief, \u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d To try to do right and let\nthe future take care of itself became her creed and she accepted it,\nknowing no better.\n\nTwo o\u2019clock, Dr. Brinton\u2019s office hour, came at last and, in a flutter\nof excitement, Eletheer hurried through the busy streets toward his\noffice. She had not long to wait, for, though the reception-room was\nfull, on receiving her card Dr. Brinton ushered her into his private\noffice where who should advance to meet her but Dr. Herschel. Evidently\nthe appointment was with him for Dr. Brinton had disappeared.\n\n\u201cWhat can Dr. Herschel want of me!\u201d Eletheer thought, nervously taking\nthe nearest seat. Her doubts, however, were soon dispelled; as,\ndrawing from his pocket a formidable-looking document, Dr. Herschel\nsaid,--\u201cThis is \u2018Old Ninety-Nine\u2019s\u2019 will--for such it is to all intents\nand purposes--written in Spanish as you see. You know its history\nbut not its entire contents; however, as you are practically in the\nprofession, a full understanding of the will may have an added interest\nas it shows what advances have been made along bacteriological lines\nand, I might add, clearly illustrates the influence of mind over matter.\n\n\u201cAfter \u2018Old Ninety-Nine\u2019s\u2019 cure, he continued to live at Shushan,\nmaking occasional trips to his cave, the whereabouts of which were\nsacredly guarded from discovery--indeed this document is so carefully\nworded as to give not a hint of its locality. While at Shushan, many\nyears after having been cured, he had another revelation in the form\nof a dream. He must fly to his cave or evil spirits would _obsess_ him\nfor they were powerful, and after this sickness he might not be able to\nresist them.\u201d\n\nHere the doctor paused and looked searchingly at his listener but,\nseeing only an expression of interest on her face, went on,--\u201cThe old\nchief hastened to his cave, though not with the vigor of youth, only\nto find evil spirits in possession. Putting this document--which in\nreality is not a will--no Indian ever makes a will--with his other\ntreasures into the chest he securely locked it and implored the Great\nSpirit to lead him to the Happy Hunting-ground. We can trace him no\nfurther, even the events last narrated are merely inferences from\ncircumstances. We know that he went to the West Indies and I infer\nfrom collateral facts that he had a Spanish wife who suggested and\nformulated this document. His sudden and obscure death deprived her of\nany knowledge of the fact.\u201d Dr. Herschel carefully folded the document\nand, leaning back in his chair, lit a cigar.\n\n\u201cWas he insane?\u201d Eletheer asked.\n\n\u201cInsanity is a nice word to define. \u2018Old Ninety-Nine\u2019 was not insane,\nbut died in an hysterical seizure. This would explain finding his body\nin that dangerous place.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen he did not believe himself cured?\u201d Eletheer said.\n\n\u201cHave you yet taken up the study of the nervous system?\u201d Dr. Herschel\nasked, as though what had happened were an every-day occurrence.\n\n\u201cNo, that comes in our second year.\u201d\n\n\u201cOne year on the nervous system! Ten years, a lifetime; and we are\nstill in an unexplored realm.\n\n\u201cI wish particularly to point a moral in \u2018Old Ninety-Nine\u2019s\u2019 case,\nas the symptoms there manifested will be among the most difficult\nto treat, particularly in the uneducated. First, because the word\nleprosy is crystalized in the human mind into an incurable disease and\nhaving once had it, a patient, unless of unusual intellect, lives in\nconstant dread of its return--our hospitals for the insane would grow\nbeautifully less by the elimination of that one element _fear_. Leprosy\nis a germ disease; the leper bacillus was discovered in 1874. Thus\nheredity is disproven. We know it to be a parasitic disease.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen children of leprous parents cannot inherit the disease?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, except a possible predisposition. This does not mean, however,\nthat I advocate marriage between lepers. If children are born of such\nparentage, they ordinarily die young or are a prey to every disease.\nThe point I wish to illustrate is that nervousness is the worst tyrant\nof the day. True, \u2018Old Ninety-Nine\u2019 was already an old man; but he\nmight have lived many years longer only for fear, which, combined with\nhis racial traits, made a formidable enemy indeed.\n\n\u201cThis is a question of great importance to nurses, one with which\nthey, more than the physician, will have to contend. A nurse is sent\non a case, possibly diphtheria, one of the most fatal diseases known.\nWhen we discover the germ a cure must follow and, as in any germ\ndisease, corresponding nervous symptoms follow from destruction of\ntissue. Strange!\u201d Dr. Herschel said, looking towards Shushan, \u201cthe many\ndiscoveries now being made on the physical plane, yet they do not\nunlock the doors to the spiritual realm.\u201d\n\n\u201cHernando claims that they do,\u201d said Eletheer.\n\nThis happened to be one of the rare occasions on which Dr. Herschel\nlaughed; and he did laugh with a right good will. \u201cYes,\u201d he said with a\ntwinkle in his eyes, \u201cHernando explained his philosophy to me at some\nlength during the last year of his stay at Shushan. As I understand him\nhe believes that thought, like electricity and magnetism, is a force,\nand that it may be intelligently applied in the treatment of disease.\nOf course he refers to diseases of nervous origin, such as hysteria and\nsome allied functional disorders, and in this he is quite right; but,\nMiss De Vere, my experience has been on other than metaphysical lines.\nAs a nurse, yours will be also. This physical body and the material\nworld it inhabits are our materials to work with and, at this stage of\nevolution at least, fate must be reckoned with. Don\u2019t muddle your brain\nwith these new sciences and cures. Keep on solid ground.\n\n\u201cNow Hernando is a splendid fellow, an ideal patient, and while\nI agree with him that the greater part of human ills are largely\nimaginary, and that it is natural for vegetable and animal life to\ngrow from darkness to light, I am also grateful for the knowledge--and\nits results--revealed to us by microscopic vision into the world of\nmicro-organisms. This is something tangible.\u201d And rising, Dr. Herschel\nindicated that the interview was over.\n\nAfter Eletheer left, Dr. Herschel walked rapidly back and forth,\nstopping occasionally to look out of first one window and then another;\nbut the objects he saw were visible only to him. One thing he intended\nto do and that was to keep this girl in sight. She was possessed of the\nqualifications necessary for the making of an ideal nurse--a trifle\nvisionary, perhaps; but experience would cure that--and it should be\nhis duty to see that her aspirations in that line were realized as\nnearly as lay in his power. Another year at the training school would\ndo much, and then he would do the rest.\n\nAll unconscious of these plans for her future, the object of them sped\nhomeward. Turning a corner sharply she almost ran into Mary Genung and\nthe latter laughingly called,--\u201cEletheer De Vere, do you mean that as a\ncut direct?\u201d\n\n\u201cCertainly not, Mary, I confess to absent-mindedness. Come along home\nwith me.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019ve just been there. Your mother told me that you were at Dr.\nBrinton\u2019s and that I might meet you. Let\u2019s go after rhododendrons in\nthe paper-mill woods. Please don\u2019t refuse.\u201d\n\n\u201cI\u2019ve no such intention,\u201d laughed Eletheer as she followed her\ncompanion to where, as children, they had spent many, many happy hours\ntogether. How long ago that seemed now--and she listened mechanically\nwhile her friend pointed out critically the architectural beauty of\nseveral newly erected buildings. They were passing the old Reformed\nDutch Church when Mary exclaimed,--\u201cTo my mind, no structure in the\ncity can approach this. In its chaste Corinthian lines, it is indeed a\nfitting monument to the religious zeal of our ancestors.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs it not Emerson who says that all men are at heart religious?\u201d\nEletheer answered.\n\nMary made no reply, and they were soon climbing the steep, rocky\nincline near the entrance to the woods. It was known as the \u201cOld Honk\nFalls\u2019 path.\u201d The day was excessively warm and strangely quiet. The\nRondout creek tumbled musically over the rocks below, forming many\nbeautiful cascades, and the girls stopped occasionally at some bend in\nthe stream to watch the myriads of brilliant-hued dragon-flies glinting\nthrough the branches of some fallen tree; but in the oppressive\nafternoon heat even the birds seemed seeking a covert. The girls\nquickened their steps and soon disappeared into the woods beyond.\n\n\u201cOh!\u201d said Mary, as she sank on the carpet of fragrant pine-needles.\n\u201cTalk of the \u2018murmuring pines and the hemlocks.\u2019 I fail to detect the\nslightest motion in these.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: The Rondout Creek tumbled musically over the rocks below\nforming many beautiful cascades]\n\n\u201cIt does seem unusually quiet, and that with the heat makes me\napprehensive. Reuben would say \u2018it means sumfin\u2019,\u2019\u201d Eletheer returned,\nseating herself beside her companion.\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d retorted Mary, \u201cif you know a cooler spot, I\u2019ll gladly follow\nto it; but did God ever create a more beautiful one?\u201d\n\nIt was, indeed, a spot of rare beauty; such as must have inspired the\ncathedral-builders of old; great pines and hemlocks reared their lofty\ncolumns upward to be there crowned with a covering so dense as to admit\nscarcely a ray of sunshine. A solemn arcade indeed, whose cleft pillars\nwere bound with brown withes of wild grape-vine. A brown carpet covered\nthe floor and in this weird semi-twilight, one almost expected to hear\na solemn Te Deum echo from the crossing branches above. The day was one\nof unearthly stillness and there was such a downpour of heat outside\nthat the very air seemed on fire. Even the scattered clumps of ferns\nand jack-in-the-pulpits hung their heads as if in exhaustion.\n\n\u201cAre you feeling well to-day, Eletheer? You seem so preoccupied.\u201d\n\n\u201cPhysically, yes; but, Mary, I\u2019m actually nervous. Everything looks so\nuncanny.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are accustomed to an out-of-door life and I trust have not made a\nmistake in your choice of profession. Hark! Did you hear anything?\u201d\n\n\u201cThere, Mary, you too, are nervous,\u201d said Eletheer, forcing a laugh.\n\u201cSee!\u201d pointing upward, \u201cnothing but a pair of stray bats.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd a snake coiled among the bushes yonder! Come, Eletheer, let\u2019s go\nhome. I\u2019m getting the \u2018creeps.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cIndeed, let\u2019s do no such thing! It\u2019s the heat combined with this utter\nsilence that affects us. There goes that snake now!\u201d\n\nAs they looked, a dirty-green snake trailed his lazy length towards the\ncreek. At the same time, two bats fluttered over it like shadows, until\nthey, too, melted into the tremulous haze that overhung everything.\n\n\u201cI was about to add,\u201d Eletheer resumed with a backward glance, \u201cthat\nDr. Herschel has been giving me some points on _nerves_. Now is a good\ntime to put them into practice.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d returned her friend, \u201cif you can stand it I can, and that\nreminds me, father and I were talking of Hernando this morning. Now\nthat he is cured, we hope that he will marry and settle down in a home\nof his own. As you know, he is the last male of our name and, unless he\ndoes marry, the name dies with him,\u201d and Miss Genung looked searchingly\nat her friend.\n\nEletheer smiled as she replied,--\u201cI can\u2019t imagine a woman just like his\nwife ought to be. Honestly, now, can you, Mary?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, Eletheer, can\u2019t you trust a life-long friend?\u201d said Mary in a tone\nof such genuine feeling that Eletheer was startled. Gradually, however,\nthe import of her friend\u2019s words dawned upon her and with a troubled\nexpression she said gently:\n\n\u201cMary, we are indeed life-long friends so don\u2019t misunderstand me--you\nwill, however. Your accusation cannot be met with argument; but there\nare men and women who mentally complement each other but to whom\nmarriage, with its obligations, does not appeal.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have read of such attachments,\u201d returned Mary dryly,--\u201cbut in\nmy limited experience they invariably end in something deeper than\nfriendship. No, Eletheer, you may deceive yourself but not others.\u201d\n\nWhat could Eletheer say? Experience had taught her the folly of\nargument with this sweet little blue-eyed, Dutch-French friend, so she\nsaid coaxingly,--\u201cNever mind that now, dear. Tell me of your proposed\ntrip abroad next fall.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is little to tell. I hope, of course, to visit France and\nHolland as most of us in this valley are either French, Dutch, or a\nmixture of both.\u201d\n\n\u201cStrange! that two nations of such widely different characteristics\nshould have so assimilated.\u201d\n\nThe vexed expression had disappeared from Mary\u2019s countenance; she loved\nto discuss the early history, and particularly religious, of this\nvalley, and Eletheer\u2019s interest pleased her.\n\n\u201cNot necessarily so,\u201d she returned. \u201cThey were thrown together by a\ncommon persecution. The first settlements of the town of Wawarsing\nwere made by Huguenots and Hollanders at Nootwyck and \u2018The Corners.\u2019\nThe ancestors of the persons who made them had passed through fiery\npersecutions for conscience\u2019s sake and had the principles of the early\nreformers thoroughly ingrained in their constitutions. In France,\nthese reformers were called Huguenots, but all the early Protestants\nof France and Holland organized churches on similar principles, which\ngenerally were called Reformed Churches. The French have always been\na people of ardent temperament and decided opinions, and religion\nexpresses the extreme characteristic of a people.\n\n\u201cDiscouraged by fruitless efforts to obtain religious liberty at\nhome, the Huguenots fled from their native country in great numbers,\nestimated at one million of the most industrious, the most intelligent\nand the most moral of the French nation, who sought safety in England,\nHolland, Prussia, Switzerland and America, taking with them their skill\nin the arts and as much of their wealth as could be snatched from the\ndestroyer, thus impoverishing France and enriching the countries to\nwhich they fled, where they found a most welcome reception.\n\n\u201cIn Holland, the Protestants suffered a continued series of\npersecutions under Charles V and Philip II of Spain, beginning in\n1523 and lasting to the time when religious liberty was secured under\nWilliam of Orange, during which time thousands of the best citizens\nof Holland were cruelly murdered and tormented for conscience\u2019s sake.\nThe Huguenots and Hollanders, thus brought into intimate relationship\nby common fate and a like persecution, maintained the closest and\nmost intimate friendship with one another, worshipping together and\nintermarrying.\u201d\n\nSo utterly absorbed were the girls, that neither of them was aware\nof a pair of listeners, Tim Watson and Elisha, who were seated just\na few feet distant on a shelving rock that overhung the creek, and\nthey also had become oblivious of their surroundings. No one noticed\nthe increasing murkiness of the atmosphere, nor the baleful, ominous\nstillness as though nature was in a vindictive mood and preparing to\nspring upon her victim. The dull, yellow sun was fast becoming obscured\nby a cloud of inky blackness and a gentle sough of the wind through the\ntree-tops had increased to a threatening howl. But as Mary raised her\neyes and glanced toward the creek, a roar like the infernal regions\nlet loose, followed by a vivid flash of lightning, brought the four\ninto a realization of their danger. Like a deer, Elisha leaped toward\nthe girls and grasping an arm of each shouted,--\u201cOut of the woods!\u201d\nAnother terrific flash from the zenith to the horizon was followed by a\ndistinctly sulphurous glow. The bolt shivered the tree under which they\nstood. A blazing ball plowed up the ground at their feet and all three\nfell in an insensible heap.\n\nWatson\u2019s sinewy arms carried the girls tenderly to an adjoining field\nand laid them on the soft grass. Returning quickly to Elisha\u2019s\nassistance,--\u201cI\u2019ll be doggoned, if they don\u2019t have northers here,\u201d\nfroze on his lips as he looked at the still form at his feet; for his\npracticed eye told him that no human help could avail here. However,\nthis was no place for examination, so Elisha, too, was carried to a\nplace beside the girls.\n\nTo any one but this Texan, the scene would have been appalling. The\ncreek, which so short a time before had rolled peacefully on, now\ndashed madly over the rocks, impelled onward by an irresistible\nforce. Giant trees bent almost double and the air was filled with\nflying branches. The noise was frightful. All nature seemed bent on\ndestruction. Watson calmly applied restoratives and guarded his charges\nfrom new danger. The girls, he knew, would recover as they now showed\nsigns of returning consciousness; and, though he could discover no\noutward sign of injury on Elisha\u2019s person, his heart had ceased to\nbeat. Stimulants, artificial respiration were employed, but all to no\npurpose.\n\nEletheer was the first to recover consciousness. She opened her eyes,\nlooked around in a dazed manner, sat up and took hold of Watson\u2019s arm.\nHe had interposed his brawny form so that her glance might not first\nrest on the now stiffening body of Elisha.\n\n\u201cHello, my girl! Just hold up a bit. Miss Genung is coming around all\nright. See, she\u2019s squirmin\u2019 now.\u201d\n\nEletheer looked. \u201cYes, Mary was not killed but where is Elisha?\u201d she\nasked, now fully herself.\n\n\u201cWell ye see, my girl, he--well I\u2019ll be doggoned, I reckon God Almighty\nknows best!\u201d\n\n\u201cIs he dead?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell ye see--\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, I see,\u201d she said, pushing him aside and laying her hand over\nElisha\u2019s heart. No pulsation there, and only too well did she recognize\nthe look that comes but once to the human countenance. She rebuttoned\nthe shirt, passed her hand over his face, and folded those hands which\nhad helped in so many ways.\n\nWatson\u2019s knowledge of the female sex was limited. He knew they were\nliable to do various things under circumstances like the present,\nand he tried to be prepared, but his voice was very unsteady as he\nsaid,--\u201cI reckon he went mighty quick!\u201d\n\n\u201cDeath must have been instantaneous,\u201d Eletheer reasoned aloud, as she\npushed the damp hair from his temples.\n\n\u201cNow I do wonder how the other one will act when she comes \u2019round,\u201d\nthought Watson.\n\nMary Genung was severely shocked and the united efforts of Watson and\nEletheer only succeeded in bringing a moan of pain from her lips as she\nshivered and relapsed into unconsciousness.\n\nThe wind was abating now and Watson asked Eletheer if she would be\nafraid to be left alone while he went for help.\n\n\u201cOf what!\u201d she said. \u201cPlease go. You\u2019ll find willing hands at the\npaper-mill yonder.\u201d\n\nBefore the sentence was finished he was off and as the distance was not\ngreat, he soon returned with three strong men carrying an improvised\nstretcher. Mary still remained unconscious; and tenderly lifting her\nand placing her beside Elisha\u2019s still form on the stretcher, the two\nwere carried to the paper-mill and from there a conveyance took them to\nMr. De Vere\u2019s.\n\nDr. Brinton was there when they arrived. He and Reuben placed Elisha\non the bed in his old room. No need for a lengthy examination. A mark\nover the heart about the size of a nickel showed where the current had\nentered his body. His thread of continuity between now and hereafter\nhad served its purpose.\n\nLeaving to Reuben the task of doing all for Elisha\u2019s remains, Dr.\nBrinton went below to the library where the family, with Mr. Genung,\nhad assembled.\n\nMary would probably be all right in a few days as consciousness had\nalready returned. Dr. Brinton said all she needed was good care.\n\nNo one dared ask after Elisha as Watson\u2019s description left no chance\nfor hope, and Dr. Brinton\u2019s manner confirmed this as he entered the\nroom. Once again had nature donned her brightest robes and from the\nwest came streaks of golden light. Mr. De Vere advanced to meet the\ndoctor and, laying a trembling hand on his arm, said,--\u201cWe know it,\nDoctor, and we also know that God is good.\u201d\n\n\u201cIn mercy truly has this been done,\u201d Dr. Brinton replied, \u201cthe\ntransition was painless--instantaneous!\u201d But the man, not the\nphysician, was talking now. No professional sympathy in the tones of\none whose heart was bleeding. Elisha himself only guessed at the depth\nof the love that this good man had for him. When he concluded, there\nwas not a dry eye in the room; even Watson sobbed audibly, and Margaret\nstole quietly upstairs to Celeste, her \u201cbaby,\u201d who lay as one dead.\n\nEletheer opened the door of Mary\u2019s room just as Margaret passed. Her\npatient was sleeping, and, throwing her arms around Margaret\u2019s neck,\nshe whispered through tears which fell thick and fast,--\u201cOh, Margaret,\nand his last act was saving our lives!\u201d Margaret could not speak.\nUnlike her husband, she did not accept afflictions meekly and her\nheart was full of bitterness now as she thought of her poor stricken\n\u201cbaby\u201d who had first to hear the dreadful news. \u201cPo\u2019 baby to t\u2019ink dat\ndis awful t\u2019ing mus\u2019 happen to yo\u2019 w\u2019en yo\u2019s jes\u2019 stayin\u2019 at de ole\nhome to be wif Massa Jack!\u201d Margaret threw herself on the floor in an\nexcess of emotion and, fearing she would wake Mary, Eletheer tapped on\nthe door of Elisha\u2019s room well knowing Reuben\u2019s soothing influence. He\nhad finished his sad duties and, true to the time-honored custom, was\n\u201cwatching.\u201d One quick glance at the face with its look of peace, and,\nbidding Reuben go to Margaret and Celeste, she flew back to her charge.\n\nThe news of Elisha\u2019s death had spread like wildfire. Always courteous\nand just, no one could criticise had he been so inclined, and his\nuniformly gentle bearing, that was a part of himself, won for him a\nreverential respect from all the miners.\n\nThe shock caused by Elisha\u2019s death had stirred them deeply; and a\ndelegation to express sympathy and a desire that they might be of\nservice waited on the young wife now prostrated with grief, though\nprovidentially under her father\u2019s roof where she had come to stay at\nthe old home during her brother Jack\u2019s visit North.\n\nFrom all over the valley came words of condolence that showed how\ndeeply Elisha was identified with its material growth; resolutions\nof respect from the different orders, and though Elisha\u2019s religious\nviews were not generally known, regardless of denomination, the pastor\nof every church in the city felt that its present sound financial\ncondition was largely through his instrumentality.\n\nAt the door Watson received all messages. \u201cHow different,\u201d he thought,\n\u201cis the ending of this life from that of Mills!\u201d He had come North with\nbitterness in his heart, and the pity which he was prepared to bestow\non this villain\u2019s victim had long been transferred to Mills himself.\nTim Watson would return to Texas with a broader view of justice.\n\nThree days later, Elisha Vedder was buried from the Reformed Church.\nThis beautiful old building had been carefully preserved and the great\nconcourse of people there gathered to participate in the last sad\nrights over Elisha Vedder\u2019s remains saw the edifice still unchanged.\nEvery seat was taken, and the aisles, vestibule and even the churchyard\nwere crowded.\n\nFloral offerings, on account of Elisha\u2019s oft-expressed fondness for the\nmountain laurel, were simply great mounds of the green leaves and waxy,\nrose-colored blossoms.\n\nA few friends accompanied Dominie Leyden, pastor of the church, to\nThe Laurels. There, after a short prayer, the remains, followed by\nthe miners in a body, were taken to the church where the active\npall-bearers were waiting at the entrance and through the cleared\npassage-way, the plain oaken casket was carried up the steps, through\nthe right aisle into the chancel and laid down before a wall of laurel\nblossoms.\n\nThe burial service was very simple. No eulogy--his acts were apparent.\n\u201cNearer My God to Thee,\u201d was sung by the choir. A few well-chosen\nwords by the officiating clergyman, and the casket was borne to the old\nDutch burying-ground.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAgain the sun is setting behind Old Neversink. The laurels take on\na rosier hue in the warm afterglow, and we recognize two figures,\nHernando and Celeste, wending their way along the Berm toward The\nLaurels.\n\n\u201cIt does seem,\u201d Celeste was saying, \u201cthat some evil genius keeps our\nfamily separated. It\u2019s too bad. Just as Jack has decided to come\nback to Nootwyck to live, Eletheer makes up her mind to locate in\nCalifornia. If she shouldn\u2019t like the West and should return home to\npractice, Cornelia and George would most likely move off somewhere.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat a home in every sense of the word is George and Cornelia\u2019s!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d Celeste laughed, \u201cthey are as happy as two kittens. The Van\nTines are a good old family and mother is satisfied with the match. By\nthe way, Cornelia tells me that Mr. Watson is seriously considering\nyour uncle\u2019s proposal that he come North and be associated with him at\nthe bank.\u201d\n\n[Illustration: The laurels take on a rosier hue in the warm afterglow]\n\n\u201cYes, and I sincerely trust that he will accept. Uncle\u2019s business cares\nare too heavy for him to bear alone; then, too, it would be a good\nthing for Watson. A man needs a home. He has a warm welcome awaiting\nhim at uncle\u2019s and Mary is sighing to be a daughter to him.\u201d\n\n\u201cMary is a lovely woman and an accomplished housekeeper; but she seems\nto have never fully recovered from that shock.\u201d\n\n\u201cDoes it seem possible that nearly three years have passed\nsince--he--Watson--\u201d Then with a gulp Hernando added,--\u201cMary is still\nnervous but Watson\u2019s very presence is an antidote for nerves.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is so steady, so genuine. I can never forget his kindness. Oh, that\nawful cloudburst!\u201d Celeste shivered; then, half aloud to herself, she\nadded,--\u201cCan it be three years since Elisha left us?\u201d\n\nInstinctively both looked backward toward the paper-mill woods and\nthere, smiling at them \u201cover their right shoulders,\u201d hung the new moon!\n\nNow Hernando knew there was nothing \u201cin\u201d seeing the new moon over the\nright shoulder. He did not believe that it has any influence whatever\non our lives; but as he looked at that silver crescent smiling on a\ntroubled world, a peace, such as he had never known, stole over his\nsenses, and with it came that clear vision which reveals truth, clears\nup the mysterious connection between cause and effect, and the long\nlines of our destiny. Forgotten was Hernando\u2019s God of tradition and\ndogma; the beautiful system of ethics formulated at Shushan was indeed\ngood--as far as it went; but that same beautiful system _with God in\nit_ is religion, is wisdom, and at last Hernando had \u201cfound\u201d it. Oh,\nthe blessed truth! Nothing in this wide universe but God, Good, whose\nBeing is manifested through us. One God, one \u201cGreat First Cause,\u201d and\nHis effect, man and the universe the effect of God!\n\n\u201cJust let the Kingdom of Heaven take you\u201d: why struggle for our own\nwhen nothing, \u201c_no thing_,\u201d disputes our claim? All we need do to come\ninto our full inheritance is prove our identity _as_ legitimate heirs.\nHere again, nothing denies the truth. Simple, when we _let_ God show us\nhow, \u201cso divinely easy that the only wonder is that we have not done\nit before!\u201d Like the air and the sky, when we open our \u201cupper eyes,\u201d\nHeaven simply _is_; and it is _all_ there is, for God is there.\n\nYes, this \u201cstraining\u201d _is_ the \u201cpoint\u201d; always _sending_ messages,\nunmindful of the fact that no answer _can_ be \u201creceived\u201d by a\n\u201ctransmitter.\u201d How plain it all was now to Hernando. His prayers of\nchildhood, youth, manhood, when from the very bottom of his heart, had\nall been \u201creceived\u201d at the great central office, and here were the\nanswers \u201cin heaps.\u201d\n\nOh, how much easier his life might have been had he been \u201cwilling\u201d to\n\u201creceive\u201d; but he had kicked \u201cagainst the goads\u201d and so must learn\nobedience through bitter experience. He _had_ worked back to the \u201cforks\nof the road\u201d in \u201cfear and trembling.\u201d Unjust as it all had seemed at\nthe time, he now saw that in no other way could _his_ lesson have been\nlearned. The stony road of necessity on which no traveller escapes just\ntoll, was behind him. Before him once more, the road forked. One fork\nled to Hong Kong, to mistaken duty with exactions--not obligations.\n\nOn the other fork was the woman he loved, the \u201chelpmeet\u201d he needed,\nthat other \u201chalf\u201d of this man of flesh and blood. He thought over the\nlast three years; how he had been temporarily filling his friend\u2019s\nvacancy at the mine until the way to Hong Kong should open up, little\ndreaming that Elisha had only temporarily filled _his_, Hernando\u2019s,\nvacancy in Celeste\u2019s heart until he had \u201cproved his claim.\u201d\n\nHow sincerely he had tried to comfort her in her bereavement. What joy\nit had given him to watch her dimples returning and hear her merry\nlaugh once more! He looked at her now, standing in the witching light\nof the new moon with her sweet, chaste profile outlined against the\nshadow, and then, because it was so \u201cnatural-like\u201d and he knew it was\nright, he held out his arms to Celeste. The call from the very bottom\nof his heart was answered. The message read: \u201c_Not Hong Kong!_\u201d\n\nBy and by they looked toward The Laurels; the evening shadows had crept\nup beyond the house, but father and mother, they knew, were sitting on\nthe piazza waiting for them. There was a light in Eletheer\u2019s room and\nanon they caught glimpses of her as she flitted to and fro packing for\nher long journey. Margaret\u2019s voice resounded in a familiar hymn from\nthe kitchen and there, with his lantern, came dear old Reuben from the\nbarn. How well they knew that no beast, bird nor living thing could\never look reproachfully into that black face! They saw him stop, turn,\nand with the deliberation that characterized everything he did, look at\nthe new moon over his right shoulder.\n\n\u201cWhat did you wish?\u201d Celeste asked, and her voice was as sweet as the\nrobin\u2019s good-night.\n\n\u201cI wish,\u201d replied Hernando, \u201cthat we may live to be as old as \u2018Old\nNinety-Nine,\u2019 as loyal as Granny, as happy together as your father and\nmother, and that we may \u2018keep\u2019 ourselves as \u2018unspotted from the world\u2019\nas Reuben.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber\u2019s Note:\n\nThe Contents has been added by the transcriber.\n\nPunctuation has been standardised. Spelling and hyphenation have been\nretained as they appear in the original publication except as follows:\n\n  Page 256\n    of the mountain,--Maratanza, A wasting _changed to_\n    of the mountain,--Maratanza, Awosting","title":"Old Ninety-Nine's Cave","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":51702}