Phoebe Deane (31 page)

" What to do ? " questioned Emmeline. She would be caught in no trap. " I've done all I know now. I'd like my sister Mandy to come here to live, an' there ain't room fer her while Phoebe stays; but I don't see what I kin do, more'n what I've done a'ready. Wouldn't she make up to yeh none the day you come home from the barn raisin' ? "

" Wai, I was gettin' on pretty well 'til that blamed horse took an' run," said Hiram, shifting his eyes from her piercing ones.

" Wai, I can't compel her to marry you," snapped Emmeline.

" You don't hev to," said Hiram. " I've got my plans laid, an' all you got to do is stand by me when the time comes. I ain't tellin' my plans jest yet, but you'll see what they be, an' all is, you remember my offer. Bf you want that village lot jest remember to stand by me."

He unfolded his length from the kitchen chair and went out. Emmeline said nothing. When he reached the door he turned back and said:

" I broke ground this mornin' fer a new house on the knoll. Me an' Phcebe'll be livin' there by this time next year."

" Well, I hope to goodness yeh will," responded Emmeline, heartily, " fer I've hed trouble 'nough a'ready with this business. I'll do what I ken, o' course, but do fer goodness' sake hurry up!"

The house on the knoll steadily progressed. Hiram came little to the Deane house during Phoebe's absence, but spent his time at the new building when his farm work did not demand his presence. He also came often to the village and hung around the post-office. He was determined that nothing should escape his vigilance in that direction. Seeing him there one day when the mail was being distributed Miranda took her place in the front ranks and asked in a clear cool voice:

" Anythin' fer Phoebe Deane ? She's stayin' f our house fer a spell now an' I'll take her mail to her."

Miranda well knew that the only mail Phoebe was likely to receive came addressed to herself, so she was more than surprised when the post-master with his spectacles on the end of his nose held up a letter whose address he carefully studied, and handed to her rather reluctantly. He would have liked a chance to study that letter more closely.

But nothing fazed Miranda, She took the letter as composedly as if there ought to be two or three more forthcoming, and marched off. Hiram Green, however, got down scowling from his seat on the counter and stalked over to the postmaster.

" I sh'd think you'd hev to be keerful who you give letters to," he remarked, in a low tone. " Phoebe Deane might not like thet harum-scarum girl hringin' her letters. Did you take notice ef that letter was from New York? She was expectin' quite a important letter from there."

The postmaster looked over his spectacles at Hiram patronizingly.

" I sh'd hope I know who to trust," he remarked, with dignity. " No, I didn't take notice. I hev too much to do to notice post-marks."

Hiram, however, was greatly shaken up by the sight of that letter in Miranda's triumphant hands, and betook himself to the hayloft to meditate. If he had known that the letter merely contained a clipping about the progress of missions in South Africa, which Ann Jane Bloodgood had sent thinking it might help Phoebe to recover from her illness, as she heard she was feeling " poorly " yet, and " hoped she would soon hear she was better!"

But Hiram had no thought but that the letter was from Nathaniel, therefore his reflections were bitter.

Two days afterward Hiram was one of a group about a

New York agent who had come down to sell goods. He

was telling the story of a mob, and his swaggering air and

flashy clothes attracted Hiram greatly. He thought them far superior to any of Nathaniel Graham's, and determined to model himself after this pattern in future.

" Oh, we do things in great shape down in New York," he was saying. " When folks don't please, we mob 'em. If their opinions ain't what we like, we mob 'em. If they don't pay us what we ask, we mob 'em. Heard 'bout the mob down in Chatham Street last summer—er it might have been two years ago. A lot of niggers met to hear a darkey preacher in a little chapel down there. We got wind of it, an' we ordered 'em to leave, but they wouldn't budge 'cause they'd paid their rent, so we just put 'em out. There was a man named Tappan who lived down in Rose Street, an' he was there. He was an Abolitionist, an' we didn't like him. He'd had somethin' to do with this meetin', so we follered him home with hoots and threats, and give his house a good stoning. Did him good. Oh, we do things up in great shape in New York. Next .night we went down to the Bowery Theatre. Manager there 's English, you know, and he'd said some imperlite things about America, we thought, something about our right to own slaves, so we give him a dose. Oh, we're not afraid of anything down in New York."

Hiram was greatly fascinated by this representative New Yorker, and after the crowd had begun to disperse he went to the stranger and buttonholed him.

" Say, look a'here!" he began, holding a five-dollar bill invitingly near to the New Yorker's hand. " I know a feller you ought to mob. I could give yeh his name an' address real easy. He's prominent down there, an' I reckon 'twould be worth somethin' to you folks to know his name. Fact is, I've an' interest in the matter myself, an' I'd like to see him come to justice, an' I'm willin' to subscribe this here bill to the cause ef you see your way clear to lookin' the matter up fer me."

"Why, certainly, certainly," said the stranger, grasping the bill affably, " I'll do anything I can for you. I'll hand this over to the treasurer of our side. In fact I'm the treasurer myself, and I thank you very much for your interest. Anything I can do I'm sure I'll be glad to. Can you tell me any more about this ? "

Hiram told him off to a quiet corner and before the interview was ended he had entered into a secret plot against Nathaniel Graham, and had pledged himself to give the stranger not only one but four more five-dollar bills when the work should be complete, and Nathaniel Graham stand revealed to the world an Abolitionist, a man who should be suppressed. It was all arranged before the stranger left on the evening stage-coach that he would write Hiram what day a move would be made in the matter, and just how far he felt they could go.

Hiram went home chuckling and felt that revenge was sweet. He would get the better of Nathaniel Graham now, and Nathaniel would never know who struck the blow.

A few days afterward there came a letter from the stranger saying that all things were prospering, but it would be impossible to get up a thoroughly organized mob and do the work without a little more money, for their funds were low; and would it be possible for Hiram to forward the twenty dollars now instead of waiting?

After a sleepless night Hiram doled out the twenty dollars. The stranger wrote that the time had been arranged, and he would let him know all about it soon. They thought they had their man pinned down tight. The night Hiram received that letter he slept soundly.

Meantime the world had been moving in an orbit of beauty for Phoebe. She was tended and guarded like a little child. They made her feel that her presence was a joy to them all. Every member of the family down to Rose made it a point to brighten her stay with them. Eose brought her flowers from the garden, David brought the latest books and poems for her to read, Marcia was her constant loving companion, and Miranda cooked the daintiest dishes known to the culinary art for her tempting. The letters went back and forth to New York every day or two, for as Phoebe was growing better she was able to write longer epistles, and Nathaniel seemed always to have something to say that needed an immediate answer. Phoebe was growing less shy of him, and more and more opened her heart to his friendship like a flower turning to a newly-risen sun.

Janet Bristol had been away on a visit during Phoebe’s illness, but while she was still with the Spaffords Janet returned, and one afternoon came to return Mrs. Spafford's call.

Phoebe wore a thin white frock whose dainty frills showed modestly her white throat and arms now taking on something of their old roundness. She was sitting in the cool parlor with Marcia when the caller arrived. Her mother's locket was tied about her throat with a bit of velvet ribbon, and her hair, now coming out in soft curls, made a lovely fluffy halo of brown all about her face.

Janet watched her while she talked with Marcia, and wondered at the sweet grace of form and feature. Somehow her former prejudice against this girl melted strangely as Phoebe raised her beautiful eyes and smiled at her. Janet felt drawn to her against her will, yet she could not tell why she held back, only that Nathaniel had been so strangely stubborn about that letter. To be sure that was long past, and her mind was fully occupied just now with Nathaniel's theological friend, Martin Van Renssaeler. She was attempting to teach him the ways of the world, and draw him out of his gravity. He seemed to be a willing subject, if one might judge from the number of visits he made to the Bristol home during that summer.

Then, one bright, beautiful day, just a week before Phoebe's visit was to close, Nathaniel came up from New York.

He reached the village on the afternoon coach, and as it happened Hiram Green stood across the road from the tavern where the coach usually stopped, lounging outside the post- office and waiting for the mail to be brought. He did not intend that any Miranda Griscom should stand in his way. Moreover, this night was the one that had been set for Nathaniel Graham's undoing, and there might be a letter for himself from his agent in New York. It filled Hiram with a kind of intoxication to be getting letters from New York.

He stood leaning against a post watching the coach as it rolled down the village street drawn by the four great horses, enveloped in a cloud of dust, and drew up at the tavern with a flourish. Then suddenly he noticed that there were passengers, two of them, and that one was Nathaniel himself.

Hiram felt weak in the knees. If a ghost had suddenly descended from the coach he could not have been more dismayed. Here he had put twenty-five good dollars into Nathaniel's discomfiture, only to have him appear in his own town smiling and serene as if nothing had been about to happen. It made Hiram just sick. He watched him and the other young man who had been his fellow passenger, as they walked down the street toward the Bristol house. He had sat down when the coach stopped, feeling inadequate to the work of holding himself upright in the midst of his unusual emotions. Now he got slowly up and went away toward his home, walking heavily, as if he had been stricken. With head bent down he studied the ground as he walked. He forgot the mail, forgot everything, save that he had put twenty-five dollars into a fruitless enterprise.

Midway between the post-office and his home he stopped and wheeled around with an exclamation of dismay:

" Gosh Ninety! "

Then after a pause he let forth a series of oaths. It was plain Hiram was stirred to the depths of his evil nature. He had just remembered that Phoebe was down in the village at the Spaffords and would be likely to see Nathaniel. His ugly face contracted in a spasm of anger, that gradually died into a settled expression of vengeance. The time had come, and he would wait no longer. If he had been more impulsive and less of a coward he would have shot his victim then and there, but such was not Hiram's way. Stealthily, with deadly surety he laid his plans; with the patience and the fatality that could only come from the father of liars himself.

Three whole days did Nathaniel stay in the village, and much of that time he spent at the Spafford house, walking and talking, and reading with Phoebe. Three whole days did Hiram spy upon him at every turn, with evil countenance and indifferent mien, lounging by the house, or happening in the way. He had written an angry letter to the man in New York, who later excused himself for not having performed his mission on account of Nathaniel's absence, but promising it should yet be done, and demanding more money.

Janet and Martin Van Renssaeler came down to the Spafford house the last evening, and made a merry party. Hiram hid himself among the lilac bushes at the side of the house, like the serpent of old, and watched the affair all the evening, his heart filled with all the evil that his nature could conceive.

Phoebe, in her simple white frock, with her lovely head crowned with the short curling hair, and her exquisite face agleam with the light and mirth that belong to youth, and which she was tasting for almost the first time, made a beautiful picture. So Miranda thought as she brought in the sugary seed-cakes, and great frosted pitcher of cool drink, made from raspberry and currant jelly, mixed with water from the spring. If Miranda could have known of the watcher outside, the evening might have ended in comedy, for she would certainly have emptied a panful of dishwater from the upper window straight into the lilac bushes. But Miranda's time had not yet come, and neither had Hiram's.

So Nathaniel and Phoebe sat by the open window and said a few last pleasant words, and looked a good-by into one another's eyes, the depth and meaning of which neither had as yet fathomed. They did not know that not two feet away was the evil face of the man who hated them both. He was so near that his viperous breath could almost have touched their cheeks, and his wicked heart, burning with the passionate fires of jealousy and hatred, gathered and devoured their glances as a raging fire will devour fuel. He watched them, and he gloated over them, as a monster will gloat over the victims he intends to destroy.

CHAPTER XXIV

The next morning on the early coach Nathaniel and Martin went away. Hiram was there to see that they were really gone, and to send word at once to New York.