A Country Chevalier

by Kate Douglas Wiggin

　　It was early in August when Mrs. Wealthy Brooks announced herspeedy return from Boston to Edgewood.

　　"It's jest as well Rose is comin' back," said Mr. Wiley to hiswife. "I never favored her goin' to Boston, where that rosyposyClaude feller is. When he was down here he was kep' kind o' tiedup in a boxstall, but there he's caperin' loose round thepastur'."

　　"I should think Rose would be ashamed to come back, after the wayshe's carried on," remarked Mrs. Wiley, "but if she neededpunishment I guess she's got it bein' comp'ny-keeper to WealthyAnn Brooks. Bein' a church member in good an' reg'lar standin',I s'pose Wealthy Ann'll go to heaven, but I can only say that itwould be a sight pleasanter place for a good many if she didn't."

　　"Rose has be'n foolish an' flirty an' wrong-headed," allowed hergrandfather; "but it won't do no good to treat her like ahardened criminile, same's you did afore she went away. Sheain't hardly got her wisdom teeth cut, in love affairs! Sheain't broke the laws of the State o' Maine, nor any o' the tencommandments; she ain't disgraced the family, an' there's achance for her to reform, seein' as how she ain't twenty year oldyet. I was turrible wild an' hot-headed myself afore you ketchedme an' tamed me down."

　　"You ain't so tame now as I wish you was," Mrs. Wiley repliedtestily.

　　"If you could smoke a clay pipe 'twould calm your nerves, mother,an' help you to git some philosophy inter you; you need a littlephilosophy turrible bad."

　　"I need patience consid'able more," was Mrs. Wiley's witheringretort.

　　"That's the way with folks," said Old Kennebec reflectively, ashe went on peacefully puffing. "If you try to indoose 'em totake an int'rest in a bran'-new virtue, they won't look at it;but they'll run down a side street an' buy half a yard more o'some turrible old shopworn trait o' character that they've kep'in stock all their lives, an' that everybody's sick to death of.There was a man in Gard'ner"--

　　But alas! the experiences of the Gardiner man, though told in thesame delightful fashion that had won Mrs. Wiley's heart manyyears before, now fell upon the empty air. In these years of OldKennebec's "anecdotage," his pipe was his best listener and histruest confidant.

　　Mr. Wiley's constant intercessions with his wife made Rose'shome-coming somewhat easier, and the sight of her own room andbelongings soothed her troubled spirit, but the days went on, andnothing happened to change the situation. She had lost a lover,that was all, and there were plenty more to choose from, or therealways had been; but the only one she wanted was the one who madeno sign. She used to think that she could twist Stephen aroundher little finger; that she had only to beckon to him and hewould follow her to the ends of the earth. Now fear had enteredher heart. She no longer felt sure, because she no longer feltworthy, of him, and feeling both uncertainty and unworthiness,her lips were sealed and she was rendered incapable of making anybid for forgiveness.

　　So the little world of Pleasant River went on, to all outwardseeming, as it had ever gone. On one side of the stream a girl'sheart was longing, and pining, and sickening, with hope deferred,and growing, too, with such astonishing rapidity that the veryangels marveled! And on the other, a man's whole vision of lifeand duty was widening and deepening under the fructifyinginfluence of his sorrow.

　　The corn waved high and green in front of the vacant riversidecottage, but Stephen sent no word or message to Rose. He hadseen her once, but only from a distance. She seemed paler andthinner, he thought,--the result; probably, of her metropolitangayeties. He heard no rumor of any engagement, and he wonderedif it were possible that her love for Claude Merrill had not,after all, been returned in kind. This seemed a wildimpossibility. His mind refused to entertain the suppositionthat any man on earth could resist falling in love with Rose, or,having fallen in, that he could ever contrive to climb out. Sohe worked on at his farm harder than ever, and grew soberer andmore careworn daily. Rufus had never seemed so near and dear tohim as in these weeks when he had lived under the shadow ofthreatened blindness. The burning of the barn and the strainupon their slender property brought the brothers togethershoulder to shoulder.

　　"If you lose your girl, Steve," said the boy, "and I lose myeyesight, and we both lose the barn, why, t'll be us two againstthe world, for a spell!"

　　The "To Let" sign on the little house was an arrant piece ofhypocrisy. Nothing but the direst extremity could have causedhim to allow an alien step on that sacred threshold. The plowingup of the flowerbeds and planting of the corn had served a doublepurpose. It showed the too curious public the finality of hisbreak with Rose and her absolute freedom; it also prevented themfrom suspecting that he still entered the place. His visits werenot many, but he could not bear to let the dust settle on thefurniture that he and Rose had chosen together; and whenever helocked the door and went back to the River Farm, he thought of averse in the Bible: "Therefore the Lord God sent him forth fromthe Garden of Eden, to till the ground from whence he was taken."

　　It was now Friday of the last week in August. The river was fullof logs, thousands upon thousands of them covering the surface ofthe water from the bridge almost up to the Brier Neighborhood.

　　The Edgewood drive was late, owing to a long drought and lowwater; but it was to begin on the following Monday, and LijeDennett and his under boss were looking over the situation andplanning the campaign. As they leaned over the bridge-rail theysaw Mr. Wiley driving down the river road. When he caught sightof them he hitched the old white horse at the corner and walkedtoward them, filling his pipe the while in his usual leisurelymanner.

　　"We're not busy this forenoon," said Lije Dennett. "S'pose westand right here and let Old Kennebec have his say out for once.We've never heard the end of one of his stories, an' he's be'ntalkin' for twenty years."

　　"All right," rejoined his companion, with a broad grin at theidea. "I'm willin', if you are; but who's goin' to tell ourfam'lies the reason we've deserted 'em! I bate yer we sha'n'tbudge till the crack o' doom. The road commissioner'll comealong once a year and mend the bridge under our feet, but OldKennebec'll talk straight on till the day o' jedgment."

　　Mr. Wiley had one of the most enjoyable mornings of his life, andfelt that after half a century of neglect his powers were at lastappreciated by his fellow-citizens.

　　He proposed numerous strategic movements to be made upon thelogs, whereby they would move more swiftly than usual. Hedescribed several successful drives on the Kennebec, when thelogs had melted down the river almost by magic, owing to hisgeneralship; and he paid a tribute, in passing, to the docilityof the boss, who on that occasion had never moved a single logwithout asking his advice.

　　From this topic he proceeded genially to narrate thelife-histories of the boss, the under boss, and several Indiansbelonging to the crew,--histories in which he himself played agallant and conspicuous part. The conversation then driftednaturally to the exploits of river-drivers in general, and Mr.Wiley narrated the sorts of feats in log-riding,pickpole-throwing, and the shooting of rapids that he had done inhis youth. These stories were such as had seldom been heard bythe ear of man; and, as they passed into circulationinstantaneously, we are probably enjoying some of them to thisday.

　　They were still being told when a Crambry child appeared on thebridge, bearing a note for the old man.

　　Upon reading it he moved off rapidly in the direction of thestore, ejaculating:

　　"Bless my soul! I clean forgot that saleratus, and mother'ssettin' at the kitchen table with the bowl in her lap, waitin'for it! Got so int'rested in your list'nin' I never thought o'the time."

　　The connubial discussion that followed this breach of disciplinebegan on the arrival of the saleratus, and lasted through supper;and Rose went to bed almost immediately afterward for verydullness and apathy. Her life stretched out before her in themost aimless and monotonous fashion. She saw nothing butheartache in the future; and that she richly deserved it made itnone the easier to bear.

　　Feeling feverish and sleepless, she slipped on her gray Shakercloak and stole quietly downstairs for a breath of air. Hergrandfather and grandmother were talking on the piazza, and goodhumor seemed to have been restored.

　　"I was over to the tavern to-night," she heard him say, as shesat down at a little distance. "I was over to the tavernto-night, an' a feller from Gorham got to talkin' an' braggin''bout what a stock o' goods they kep' in the store over there.'An','says I, 'I bate ye dollars to doughnuts that there hain'ta darn thing ye can ask for at Bill Pike's store at PleasantRiver that he can't go down cellar, or up attic, or out in thebarn chamber an' git for ye.' Well, sir, he took me up, an' Iborrered the money of Joe Dennett, who held the stakes, an' wewent right over to Bill Pike's with all the boys follerin' onbehind. An' the Gorham man never let on what he was goin' to askfor till the hull crowd of us got inside the store. Then sayshe, as p'lite as a basket o' chips, 'Mr. Pike, I'd like to buy apulpit if you can oblige me with one.'

　　"Bill scratched his head an' I held my breath. Then says he,'Pears to me I'd ought to hev a pulpit or two, if I can jestremember where I keep 'em. I don't never cal'late to be out o'pulpits, but I'm so plagued for room I can't keep 'em in here withthe groc'ries. Jim (that's his new store boy), you jest take alantern an' run out in the far corner o' the shed, at the endo' the hickory woodpile, an' see how many pulpits we've got instock!' Well, Jim run out, an' when he come back he says, 'We'vegot two, Mr. Pike. Shall I bring one of 'em in?'

　　"At that the boys all bust out laughin' an' hollerin' an'tauntin' the Gorham man, an' he paid up with a good will, I tellye!"

　　"I don't approve of bettin'," said Mrs. Wiley grimly, "but I'lltry to sanctify the money by usin' it for a new wash-boiler."

　　"The fact is," explained old Kennebec, somewhat confused, "thatthe boys made me spend every cent of it then an' there."

　　Rose heard her grandmother's caustic reply, and then paid nofurther attention until her keen ear caught the sound ofStephen's name. It was a part of her unhappiness that since herbroken engagement no one would ever allude to him, and she longedto hear him mentioned, so that perchance she could get someinkling of his movements.

　　"I met Stephen to-night for the first time in a week," said Mr.Wiley. "He kind o' keeps out o' my way lately. He's goin' todrive his span into Portland tomorrow mornin' and bring Rufushome from the hospital Sunday afternoon. The doctors thinkthey've made a success of their job, but Rufus has got to bebandaged up a spell longer. Stephen is goin' to join the driveMonday mornin' at the bridge here, so I'll get the latest news o'the boy. Land! I'll be turrible glad if he gets out with hiseyesight, if it's only for Steve's sake. He's a turrible goodfellow, Steve is! He said something to-night that made me setmore store by him than ever. I told you I hedn't heard an unkindword ag'in' Rose sence she come home from Boston, an' no more Ihev till this evenin: There was two or three fellers talkin' inthe post-office, an' they didn't suspicion I was settin' on thesteps outside the screen door. That Jim Jenkins, that Rose soeverlastin'ly snubbed at the tavern dance, spoke up, an' says he:'This time last year Rose Wiley could 'a' hed the choice of anyman on the river, an' now I bet ye she can't get nary one.'

　　"Steve was there, jest goin' out the door, with some bags o'coffee an' sugar under his arm.

　　"'I guess you're mistaken about that,' he says, speakin' up jestlike lightnin'; 'so long as Stephen Waterman's alive, Rose Wileycan have him, for one; and that everybody's welcome to know.'

　　"He spoke right out, loud an' plain, jest as if he was readin'the Declaration of Independence. I expected the boys wouldeverlastin'ly poke fun at him, but they never said a word. Iguess his eyes flashed, for he come out the screen door, slammin'it after him, and stalked by me as if he was too worked up tonotice anything or anybody. I didn't foiler him, for his longlegs git over the ground too fast for me, but thinks I, 'MebbeI'll hev some use for my lemonade-set after all.'"

　　"I hope to the land you will," responded Mrs. Wiley, "for I'mabout sick o' movin' it round when I sweep under my bed. And Ishall be glad if Rose an' Stephen do make it up, for Wealthy AnnBrooks's gossip is too much for a Christian woman to stand."