A Speckled Bird

"That is to notify us 'free time' is over for the day. We have an hour in which to employ ourselves without direction. Below the vegetable garden Brother Theodore comes from his pet strawberry bed, and over yonder, what looks like a huge black bird with flapping white wings is Brother Aristide dusting the leaves of his grapevines with some insecticide powder. He came from Burgundy, and believes that ledge behind the line of cherry trees lying south-southeast will give him Chambertin equal to the best in Côte d'Or. You see even here each trundles his recreation hoop once a day."

An east wind had spun fine silver cloud lines curving across the blue, clustering, widening into two vast, fleecy pinions that were floating slowly to the gates of the west. Despite sunshine, chilliness edged the air, and Father Temple coughed hoarsely.

"Your reverence should not stay here next winter. It is too humid. As the crow flies and the wind sweeps, the Atlantic can not be more than twenty miles away, and when northeast gales howl from Barnegat to Hatteras, this is no sanatorium for you. If you have no special preference for tuberculosis, and have not vowed slow suicide on that altar, I should be glad if you would select some other mode of exit when you finally say good-bye. Consumption robbed me of my father – I hope I shall not lose my friend also thereby."

The priest smiled, and laid his thin hand on his companion's knee.

"In many characteristics we differ so widely, I have often wondered that you care at all for me."

"You were so honest and fearless and manly when we met at college. You showed such genuine pluck in that hazing scandal, so much quiet, heroic magnanimity when the official investigation followed. Vernon, for God's sake, wake up! You have talent; don't doze like a toad under a stone wall. Come out of shadows that paralyze you, and try to make your mark in the world of letters. I do not wish to change my – "

He paused and frowned. A flush tinged Father Temple's sallow cheek.

"You do not wish to consider me unmanly now?"

"That is exactly it, and if you force me to do so I swear I never will forgive you. Don't brood and mope. Go back to Plato and Horace – they are the best brooms for cloistral cobwebs – and promise me you will not stay here next winter."

"My cousin Allison Kent and Eglah insist I shall spend December and January with them, in Y – , and since I am forbidden to preach at present, I may accept the invitation. I was there on a brief visit several months ago."

"Tell me about them. It has been long since I heard directly."

"The judge has grown extremely stout, and says he enjoys the lazy leisure of Southern life among the opulent, but he seemed restless and abstracted, and was often absent on fishing excursions. Eglah perplexes me. She is graver, more reticent, and far more beautiful, but reminds me of a person walking in troubled sleep, determined, yet vaguely apprehensive. At times it occurred to me that her relations with her father were not as tenderly cordial as I remembered in the Washington life; he never caressed her, and she seemed in a certain degree aloof, but her careful deference in manner and speech was exquisite. She told me his retirement from a senatorial position was the supreme disappointment of her life, and her chief solace now is the preparation of a volume of his speeches, prefaced by a biographical sketch she intends to write. I think her father is very unpopular with the majority of old families in Y – , who will never forgive his course while Federal judge, and as they represent the best social element, conditions beyond her control have embarrassed Eglah, but she gives no hint and fronts the situation with admirable cool calmness."

Leaning back in his chair, his hands clasped behind his head, Mr. Herriott seemed to watch the narrowing circles of a hawk beneath which three frantic pigeons dashed aimlessly round and round, and in the final swift swoop one white bird disappeared in a vanishing brown shadow.

"You have lost a pigeon."

"We have none. The lay brothers complain of their depredations in the garden, and sometimes trap those that belong in the city, but they are always carried off and set free."

"Vernon, why does not your cousin Eglah marry Roger Hull? He is as nearly worthy of her as any man she will ever meet; he is eminently good looking, bright, a spirited debater, and as it is said he carries the votes of his district in his vest pocket, he has an assured political position where she could gratify her ambition. If he lives he will sit in the Senate. He was very devoted in his attentions. Is he still loyal?"

"No. I hear he is reported engaged to a pretty girl in Washington, whose father is a naval officer. Certainly Eglah does not lack beaux. She has very fine horses, rides daily, and one of her most frequent escorts was a Dr. Burbridge, very handsome and a specialist in neurology. I don't know Hull, but he has been twice to Nutwood since Eglah came back from Europe, and Cousin Allison said that she froze him so completely on his last visit that he gave up the chase, and consoled himself with a more responsive charmer. If political life allures her, Hull certainly offered an attractive opportunity, but I am sure her father did not favor that suit, and as her ambition was more for his preferment than from any personal fondness for a congressional career, she will soon cease to regret, and find contentment in her lovely surroundings."

"I am afraid not. Pardon the simile – but take a thoroughbred filly raised and trained on the race track, and when she is champing her bit, trembling for the signal to start, lead her aside, shut her in a pasture, fasten her to a plough trace, or harness her with a mule on the other side of a wagon-tongue, and do you wonder the load comes to grief, or the furrows are crooked when she sees the racers flash by, and hears the rush of hoofs, the roar of cheering thousands? Eglah knows what she wants, and disdains compromise. The present environment suits her as little as a stagnant millpond would a yacht cup challenger."

"I wish she could marry happily, but the day I came away we stood at the front steps and I told her I hoped I might have the privilege of performing the ceremony, if during my life she consented to make some man happy. The judge laughed and tapped me on the shoulder. 'I will see you get that wedding fee. When you are needed I shall telegraph you.' She stepped a little closer to him, put her hands behind her, and looked at him with strange intentness; then turning to me she said, with singular emphasis: 'I shall never marry. As I have been baptized, only one more ceremony can be performed for me, and if Ma-Lila does not insist upon a Methodist minister, I promise that you shall pronounce 'ashes to ashes, dust to dust' – when mother earth takes me back to her heart.'

"Just then Mrs. Mitchell dropped her basket, and the clatter of keys and scissors broke the strain, which I could not understand. But Eglah's eyes recalled something I have not thought of for years. Do you recollect a picture of the Norns we saw that summer we walked through Wales?"

"Three figures, one veiled? We could not find out who painted it, but I never shall forget the wonderful eyes of Urd."

"They looked at me again that day in Nutwood. The expression was as inscrutable as the smile of Mona Lisa – not defiance, nor yet renunciation, neither scorn nor bitterness, but deathless pride and a pain so hopeless no sound could voice it."

There was a brief silence, broken by the muffled chanting in the chapel, and Mr. Herriott's hands were gripped so tight behind his head the nails were purple, but his face showed no emotion, and when he spoke his tone betrayed only quiet sympathy.

"For many years I have associated her with a passage in Jeremiah: 'As a speckled bird, the birds round about are against her.'' Poor little speckled bird, beating out her life. Battling alone against a host of hawks is dreary work."

"I suppose you are going to Y – ?"

"No, I must get back home. I have been away too long. My poor faithful Susan is dead."

"I hope you are tired of globe-trotting, and ready to anchor yourself at your own fireside."

"As yet I have made no definite plans; have been considering two recent offers. One is the presidency of a great railroad system – a position I might possibly fit myself to occupy if I went into the machine shops and roundhouses and worked hard for the next five years. It happens that the shares and bonds of one short but very important line which my father practically owned when the middle West was comparatively undeveloped, have appreciated enormously, and now that road is the link absolutely necessary to the contemplated consolidation of a new route that will touch the Pacific. I cabled my refusal to sell out, and the next bait was the presidency. Mr. Stadmeyer and I have controlling interests and our views accord. Two days ago we had a meeting, at which I declined office, and we leased our road for thirty years. That relieved me from one horn of the dilemma; the other still threatens. A Polar expedition will be ready next year, and I have been asked to take a place aboard ship."

"Noel, I beg of you, dismiss that thought. Of all scientific follies, that Pole-hunting mania is the wildest, the most indefensible. To add your bleaching bones to the cairns heaped on the eternal ice altar of Polar night is no ambition worthy of you. Don't think me childish, but the sight of you is such a comfort I could not bear to have you risk your life searching for mares' nests so far away."

Mr. Herriott laughed – a genial, hearty, deep-chested sound rarely heard in cloisters.

"Get rid of that cough, and I will take you along as chaplain to christen the Pole – presumably it is pagan at present. I wish you would go down to New Mexico or Arizona and make a sensible effort to build up your constitution, which seems suing you for damages. Leave medicine and the breviary in your cell, and lie under the stars and inhale that wonderful, healing air. When you wish to pray go down into the Grand Cañon, you will find you can succeed without needing a book to help you. In that sky verily 'the heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth His handiwork.' Mission work, and to spare, would interest you at a Moqui Pueblo, and I can recommend one whose primeval, idyllic repose dwells in my memory like an eclogue of Virgil's. It is spread over the crown and sides of a precipice where terraces tilt their outer edges upward to prevent water from draining the little gardens. Masonry-lined cisterns gleam under moonlight like molten silver, sheep and goats bleat in their stone enclosures, a frieze of kids runs below the cornice of brown cupids drowsing on the wall, and all about the mesa a pink cloud of blooming peach trees and a yellow mist of acacias. Weigh this cure scheme, discuss it in Sanhedrim, and if you think favorably of it let me hear from you before October, as I have several friends among ranchmen, and some of the Moquis have not forgotten me."

"Do you intend to settle down now at your lake-shore house?"

"Yes, for the present. I have been invited to write for two scientific magazines, and one of the subjects suggested rather appeals to me – a comparison of the fiords of Norway with those of Alaska and British Columbia, but I have not fully decided. However, I am committed to help Chalcott verify numerous citations from Strabo's tenth book, relative to Crete, and I must brush up my classics. Chalcott is sanguine of 'great finds' around the site of ancient Knossos in the near future. He has been stung by the Pelasgian bee, and I have promised to hunt and copy some passages from Strabo."

He took his hat from the floor and rose.

"Now I must say good-bye to father superior and the brethren."

"We hoped you would spend at least one night with us, in the room we have named and set apart for you."

"I must get back to Philadelphia in time for a meeting to-morrow of stockholders and directors of our railroad. Mr. Stadmeyer requested me to attend, though he is really our watchdog. Don't delay the refectory improvements, and since you are all so good as to give me a special penitential apartment, I wish you would brighten it up with a cheerful paper, and allow me the privilege of sending some human derelict to anchor here in peace. God knows, there are fleets of souls adrift, and I should be glad if, for my sake, you can tow some into the snug harbor of my cell, until the day comes when my sins culminate and force me here for penance."

When the two walked down to the outer gate, the contrast between the virile athlete and the shadowy black form of the priest was pathetically vivid.

The busy shuttles of the east wind had spread their cirrus laces even along the western horizon where the sun had vanished, and the sky was one huge arching shell enamelled with mother-of-pearl, as the cloudlets burned in the after-glow.

"Vernon, don't look back. You have balanced your books with the past. Dear old fellow, I wish to think of you as fulfilling the rich promise of our college days."

"Assure me you will give up that Arctic whim. The thought of it distresses me."

"Do not worry about me. The expedition could not be ready to start for at least a year, and by that time I may not need to go. Sir John Franklin's ghost may chat with mine and tell me all the secrets of the Pole, which doubtless he discovered when Arctic ice claimed his body."

He laughed, they shook hands, and parted.

At a bend in the road he turned, looked back and waved his hat to the watching figure standing under the gilt cross, and silhouetted in sharp lines against the opal dome of the west.

CHAPTER XX

"Little mother, the weather is so lovely I really ought to drive with you to Dairy Dingle, instead of letting you go in that dusty, stuffy car; but you will not wait, and you know I have promised to go to the club german to-morrow night."

"I shall get back in time to help you; the train is due at 7:10. Your dress is already pressed, and ribbons and lace sewed on, but as you have not worn it, I want to be sure about the hang of that skirt. Your sash – "

"Your train is ready to start. Good-bye, Ma-Lila."

"Good-bye, dearie. I wish the club house and Dr. Burbridge were in Jericho! Then you could go with me."

Mrs. Mitchell kissed her companion's cheek and hurried to the car platform, where she paused a moment, looking back at the girl seated in her trap, balancing her lace parasol.

"Are you going directly home?"

"No. I shall call to inquire how Mrs. Whitfield is to-day, and as the bishop has come home from Florida I must congratulate him on his restoration to health. Bring me some titi blossoms."

The bell clanged, the engine puffed, and the train disappeared around a curve. An hour afterward, in front of the post-office, the mail for Nutwood was brought to the trap. Eglah took two letters addressed to herself, and placed the remainder with papers under the cushion of the trap seat.

"Oliver, stop at Holmein's garden. Then go on home and give the mail to father. If he has not returned from fishing, be careful to lay letters and papers on the library table in front of his chair. I shall walk from Holmein's."

The grounds of the florist were nearly a mile from the gates of Nutwood, and on a new street-car line extending to a park that overlooked the river. From Holmein's the broad, sandy road ran straight through thick woods to the avenue of the old house on the hill. Having secured a bunch of double white violets, Judge Kent's favorite flower, his daughter walked homeward. Ivory thuribles of magnolia and bay swung their fragrance up and down the nave of ancient pines, and the profound repose, the silence as of primeval wilds was broken only now and then by the antiphonal plaints of doves lamenting on the lofty green pine cornices, or a low preluding chord, as fingers of the wind touched the leafy pipes of the forest organ.

Many months had passed, and the procession of the seasons brought no comforting element to brighten the monotonous life that so severely taxed Eglah's patience. A card and dinner party on Judge Kent's birthday had pleased him for the moment, but while he praised the menu and decorations, no relaxation of chill politeness rewarded her. Only one al fresco festival was held. When nuts were ripe in autumn the young mistress had invited the children belonging to Sunday-schools and the orphan asylum in Y – to come one afternoon to Nutwood and gather chestnuts and walnuts. In the grove long tables held refreshments, that were served by Eglah and Eliza to the hungry throng, and for the first time since the war hundreds of happy little ones raced and shouted under the ancestral trees. Several plank seats remained as souvenirs of the occasion, and to-day Eglah turned away from the avenue, and sat down between two young chestnuts. At her feet was a miniature doll house of walnut shells built to amuse a flaxen-haired tot who shrank tearfully from the sharp pricks of chestnut burrs, and begged for a "truly fairy tale."

Now Eglah was reminded of the wide, curious eyes raised to hers when she had repeated:

"I fancy the fairies make merry,With thorns for their knives and forks;They have currants for bottles of sherry,And the little brown heads are the corks.A leaf makes the tent they sit under,Their ballroom's a white lily-cup;Shall I know all about them, I wonder,For certain, when I am grown up?"

Laying her flowers beside her, she broke the seal of a letter from Mrs. St. Clair, postmarked New York, and after a moment the sheet fell into her lap. Raising it, she read a second time:

"We are so shocked and grieved to find that Mr. Herriott is actually going on that North Pole expedition we thought he had abandoned. He has been much fêted since his return last year, and all of our set are heartily sorry to give him up. Some of us believe you could put a stop to this nonsense, if you would only come to your senses, and use your influence. The idea of such a man going into the grewsome business of eating blubber and seal, and possibly Eskimo dog steak! Hunting a graveyard among hummocks! I suggested to him that a better plan would be to go down into a cold-storage vault, throw away the key and slam the spring-lock door. Then we should be allowed the consolation of covering him with flowers."

She replaced the letter in the envelope, and fell into a profound revery. If Mr. Herriott sailed away and never returned, her father could no longer cling to his sole condition of reconciliation. Years ago her own responsibility had ended, and even had she desired to reconsider the proposal of marriage, no opportunity to do so had been given her. She had not seen Mr. Herriott since that afternoon in the old Greco-Roman theatre. Two kind, brief, merely friendly letters had reached her, followed by a box containing for herself some fine Oriental embroideries, and an exquisitely carved ivory triptych; for Mrs. Mitchell a copy of a quaint circular picture in the old Byzantine style, representing a group of young lambs asleep around the standing figure of the child Jesus, whose body rayed light, as in the "Notte," one little hand extended over them, while he looked up to an angelic guard only dimly outlined by the gleaming tips of hovering pinions.

If Mr. Herriott never returned? Her eyes filled with unshed tears. For so many years he had been her devoted and loyal friend, and she honored and trusted him supremely. Never to see him again would grieve her deeply, but she felt assured he no longer loved her as formerly – that sincere friendship was the only sentiment he now entertained. Were his heart still hers, could he have maintained the total repression that marked recent years? He had given his word not to refer to a matter that distressed her, but when men really loved, such compacts were forgotten, and it must have been easy for Mr. Herriott to keep his promise of absolute silence.

Gathering up her flowers, letters and parasol, she walked slowly across the lawn and reached the house by a side door, without meeting any of the servants.

On the library table lay Judge Kent's unopened mail; hence she knew he had not yet returned from the fishing trip on which he started at daylight. Over the door opening into his adjoining bedroom a heavy portière of crimson plush usually hung, but a few days previous winter draperies had been replaced by Madras curtains that resembled stained glass. Lifting this summer portière, Eglah went into the bedroom, filled a vase with water and arranged the drooping violets on her father's bureau. Only during his absence did she ever come into this apartment, so long her grandmother's reliquary, where the girl seemed always to see old Hector crouching against his dead mistress, and that white face, whose fixed blue eyes pierced beyond the orange dawn and fronted God.

The memory of her childish terror on the night of Mrs. Maurice's death haunted the room, despite her effort to dispel it, yet to-day she sat down on a lounge and re-read Mrs. St. Clair's letter. If her father knew of the contemplated Arctic journey, he had given no hint. Perhaps the vessel had already sailed. Then at last she could find peace and reconciliation. Possibly Mr. Herriott might change his plans. If ever he renewed his offer would she – could she yield to her father's wishes? She set her teeth.

"Sell myself – even for father's love? Never!"

It seemed cruel that some misfortune to her best and dearest friend should offer her sole channel of escape, and after a while she made deliberate choice.

"Come what may, I pray no harm will overtake Mr. Noel. I would rather continue to fight and suffer than know he was lost; and surely God will watch over him."

Some moments passed while, forgetting to remove her hat, she sat tapping her knee with the letter. Then heavy footsteps rang on the bare, "dry-rubbed" floor, and Judge Kent's voice sounded through the library.

"Take that arm chair, Herriott. Eglah is in town, but she will be at home soon."

"I am glad to have an opportunity to talk to you in her absence. I have not come here voluntarily; necessity drove me. My mission now is so distressingly painful that could it have been avoided I should certainly not be here. To shield Eglah from annoyance I would undertake anything but neglect of duty. Of course you know the deplorable matter to which I allude?"

Every word came distinctly through the lace-hung doorway, and Eglah rose, reluctant to overhear that which it was evident the speaker wished withheld from her; but an overmastering desire to understand once for all conditions that had so long perplexed her, coerced her to remain. There was grave trouble, and she must suffer later – why not now? A full comprehension was the first step toward defence.

"I am surprised that you should intentionally embarrass me, but I suppose you refer to the United States and railroad bonds that were hypothecated. I knew you had redeemed them, delivered them to the college, and I hoped when I parted with the house in Thirty-eighth Street that I could turn it over to you in part payment of that bond business; but an unfortunate venture reduced me to such urgent need, I was obliged to take the money you offered through Trainem. Don't interrupt me – now you have forced me to speak, I want no renewal of this matter. Except the trustees and their attorneys, no one remembers the unjust clause in your father's will that Nina should have the New York house and certain stocks outright, but only the interest on those bonds which at her death should belong to the Presbyterian College. Munificent provision for the widow of a reputed multimillionaire! Since you have so kindly and generously recovered the bonds and delivered them to the trustees, I see no necessity for this revival of so disagreeable a subject, and certainly no propriety in dragging before Eglah what does not concern her. The trusteeship under which her own estate is held at present, prevents my using any part of it to repay you, as I would do most gladly, were it possible."

"Had you not forbidden an interruption, you might have spared yourself an unpleasant retrospection, as I earnestly desired to assure you at the outset that you are entirely mistaken in my purpose. I had no thought – no intention, of alluding to the subject of the bonds, which is even more disagreeable to me than to you, but since you have brought it up, while I decline to discuss my father's will, you must permit me to say that the course I pursued was prompted solely by my affection for Nina, and a desire to protect her innocent name. Hence as regards the bonds you owe me nothing."