"Yes," said Cissy, meeting his gaze with brown, truthful eyes. "Yes, when you--when you--made those faces. I like to hear you talk, but"--she stopped.
Brother Seabright"s rare smile again lightened his face. But it seemed sadder than when she had first seen it.
"Then you have been practicing again at the Mission?" he said quietly; "and you still prefer it?"
"Yes," said Cissy. She wanted to appear as loyal to the Mission in Brother Seabright"s presence as she was faithful to West Woodlands in Mr. Braggs"s. She had no idea that this was dangerously near to coquetry. So she said a little archly, "I don"t see why YOU don"t like the Mission. You"re a missionary yourself. The old padres came here to spread the Word. So do you."
"But not in that way," he said curtly. "I"ve seen enough of them when I was knocking round the world a seafaring man and a sinner. I knew them--receivers of the ill-gotten gains of adventurers, fools, and scoundrels. I knew them--enriched by the spoils of persecution and oppression; gathering under their walls outlaws and fugitives from justice, and flinging an indulgence here and an absolution there, as they were paid for it. Don"t talk to me of THEM--I know them."
They were pa.s.sing out of the chapel together, and he made an impatient gesture as if dismissing the subject. Accustomed though she was to the sweeping criticism of her Catholic friends by her West Woodlands a.s.sociates, she was nevertheless hurt by his brusqueness. She dropped a little behind, and they separated at the porch. Notwithstanding her anxiety to see her aunt, she felt she could not now go to Deacon Shadwell"s without seeming to follow him--and after he had a.s.sured her that her help was not required! She turned aside and made her way slowly towards her home.
There she found that her aunt had not returned, gathering from her uncle that she was recovering from a fit of "high strikes" (hysterics), and would be better alone. Whether he underrated her complaint, or had a consciousness of his masculine helplessness in such disorders, he evidently made light of it. And when Cissy, afterwards, a little ashamed that she had allowed her momentary pique against Brother Seabright to stand in the way of her duty, determined to go to her aunt, instead of returning to the chapel that evening, he did not oppose it. She learned also that Mr. Braggs had called in the morning, but, finding that her aunt Vashti was at chapel, he had followed her there, intending to return with her. But he had not been seen since the service, and had evidently returned to the Mission.
But when she reached Deacon Shadwell"s house she was received by Mrs.
Shadwell only. Her aunt, said that lady, was physically better, but Brother Seabright had left "partkler word" that she was to see n.o.body.
It was an extraordinary case of "findin" the Lord," the like of which had never been known before in West Woodlands, and she (Cissy) would yet be proud of one of her "fammerly being speshally selected for grace."
But the "workin"s o" salvation was not to be finicked away on worldly things or even the affections of the flesh;" and if Cissy really loved her aunt, "she wouldn"t interfere with her while she was, so to speak, still on the mourners" bench, wrastlin" with the Sperret in their back sittin"-room." But she might wait until Brother Seabright"s return from evening chapel after service.
Cissy waited. Nine o"clock came, but Brother Seabright did not return.
Then a small but inconsequent dignity took possession of her, and she slightly tossed her long curls from her shoulders. She was not going to wait for any man"s permission to see her own aunt. If auntie did not want to see her, that was enough. She could go home alone. She didn"t want any one to go with her.
Lifted and sustained by these lofty considerations, with an erect head and slightly ruffled mane, well enwrapped in a becoming white merino "cloud," the young girl stepped out on her homeward journey. She had certainly enough to occupy her mind and, perhaps, justify her independence. To have a suitor for her hand in the person of the superior and wealthy Mr. Braggs,--for that was what his visit that morning to West Woodlands meant,--and to be personally complimented on her improvement by the famous Brother Seabright, all within twelve hours, was something to be proud of, even although it was mitigated by her aunt"s illness, her suitor"s abrupt departure, and Brother Seabright"s momentary coldness and impatience. Oddly enough, this last and apparently trivial circ.u.mstance occupied her thoughts more than the others. She found herself looking out for him in the windings of the moonlit road, and when, at last, she reached the turning towards the little wood and chapel, her small feet unconsciously lingered until she felt herself blushing under her fleecy "cloud." She looked down the lane. From the point where she was standing the lights of the chapel should have been plainly visible; but now all was dark. It was nearly ten o"clock, and he must have gone home by another road. Then a spirit of adventure seized her. She had the key of the chapel in her pocket.
She remembered she had left a small black Spanish fan--a former gift of Mr. Braggs lying on the harmonium. She would go and bring it away, and satisfy herself that Brother Seabright was not there still. It was but a step, and in the clear moonlight.
The lane wound before her like a silver stream, except where it was interrupted and bridged over by jagged black shadows. The chapel itself was black, the cl.u.s.tering trees around it were black also; the porch seemed to cover an inky well of shadow; the windows were rayless and dead, and in the chancel one still left open showed a yawning vault of obscurity within. Nevertheless, she opened the door softly, glided into the dark depths, and made her way to the harmonium. But here the sound of footsteps without startled her; she glanced hurriedly through the open window, and saw the figure of Elisha Braggs suddenly revealed in the moonlight as he crossed the path behind the chapel. He was closely followed by two peons, whom she recognized as his servants at the Mission, and they each carried a pickaxe. From their manner it was evident that they had no suspicion of her presence in the chapel. But they had stopped and were listening. Her heart beat quickly; with a sudden instinct she ran and bolted the door. But it was evidently another intruder they were watching, for she presently saw Brother Seabright quietly cross the lane and approach the chapel. The three men had disappeared; but there was a sudden shout, the sound of scuffling, the deep voice of Brother Seabright saying, "Back, there, will you!
Hands off!" and a pause. She could see nothing; she listened in every pulse. Then the voice of Brother Seabright arose again quite clearly, slowly, and as deliberately as if it had risen from the platform in the chapel.
"Lish Barker! I thought as much! Lish Barker, first mate of the Tamalpais, who was said to have gone down with a boat"s crew and the ship"s treasure after she struck. I THOUGHT I knew that face today."
"Yes," said the voice of him whom she had known as Elisha Braggs,--"yes, and I knew YOUR face, Jim Seabright, ex-whaler, slaver, pirate, and bo"s"n of the Highflyer, marooned in the South Pacific, where you found the Lord--ha! ha!--and became the psalm-singing, converted American sailor preacher!"
"I am not ashamed before men of my past, which every one knows,"
returned Seabright slowly. "But what of YOURS, Elisha Barker--YOURS that has made you sham death itself to hide it from them? What of YOURS--spent in the sloth of your ill-gotten gains! Turn, sinner, turn!
Turn, Elisha Braggs, while there is yet time!"
"Belay there, Brother Seabright; we"re not INSIDE your gospel-shop just now! Keep your palaver for those that need it. Let me pa.s.s, before I have to teach you that you haven"t to deal with a gang of hysterical old women to-night."
"But not until you know that one of those women,--Vashti White,--by G.o.d"s grace converted of her sins, has confessed her secret and yours, Elisha Barker! Yes! She has told me how her sister"s husband--the father of the young girl you are trying to lure away--helped you off that night with your booty, took his miserable reward and lived and died in exile with the rest of your wretched crew,--afraid to return to his home and country--whilst you--shameless and impenitent--lived in slothful ease at the Mission!"
"Liar! Let me pa.s.s!"
"Not until I know your purpose here to-night."
"Then take the consequences! Here, Pedro! Ramon! Seize him. Tie him head and heels together, and toss him in the bush!"
The sound of scuffling recommenced. The struggle seemed fierce and long, with no breath wasted in useless outcry. Then there was a bright flash, a m.u.f.fled report, and the stinging and fire of gunpowder at the window.
Transfixed with fear, Cissy cast a despairing glance around her. Ah, the bell-rope! In another instant she had grasped it frantically in her hands.
All the fear, indignation, horror, sympathy, and wild appeal for help that had arisen helplessly in her throat and yet remained unuttered, now seemed to thrill through her fingers and the tightened rope, and broke into frantic voice in the clanging metal above her. The whole chapel, the whole woodland, the clear, moonlit sky above was filled with its alarming accents. It shrieked, implored, protested, summoned, and threatened, in one ceaseless outcry, seeming to roll over and over--as, indeed, it did--in leaps and bounds that shook the belfry. Never before, even in the blows of the striking surges, had the bell of the Tamalpais clamored like that! Once she heard above the turmoil the shaking of the door against the bolt that still held firmly; once she thought she heard Seabright"s voice calling to her; once she thought she smelled the strong smoke of burning gra.s.s. But she kept on, until the window was suddenly darkened by a figure, and Brother Seabright, leaping in, caught her in his arms as she was reeling fainting, but still clinging to the rope. But his strong presence and some powerful magnetism in his touch restored her.
"You have heard all!" he said.
"Yes."
"Then for your aunt"s sake, for your dead father"s sake, FORGET all!
That wretched man has fled with his wounded hirelings--let his sin go with him. But the village is alarmed--the brethren may be here any moment! Neither question nor deny what I shall tell them. Fear nothing.
G.o.d will forgive the silence that leaves the vengeance to His hands alone!" Voices and footsteps were heard approaching the chapel. Brother Seabright significantly pressed her hand and strode towards the door.
Deacon Shadwell was first to enter.
"You here--Brother Seabright! What has happened?"
"G.o.d be praised!" said Brother Seabright cheerfully, "nothing of consequence! The danger is over! Yet, but for the courage and presence of mind of Sister Appleby a serious evil might have been done." He paused, and with another voice turned half-interrogatively towards her.
"Some children, or a pa.s.sing tramp, had carelessly thrown matches in the underbrush, and they were ignited beside the chapel. Sister Appleby, chancing to return here for"--
"For my fan," said Cissy with a timid truthfulness of accent.
"Found herself unable to cope with it, and it occurred to her to give the alarm you heard. I happened to be pa.s.sing and was first to respond.
Happily the flames had made but little headway, and were quickly beaten down. It is all over now. But let us hope that the speedy clearing out of the underbrush and the opening of the woods around the chapel will prevent any recurrence of the alarm of to-night."
That the lesson thus reiterated by Brother Seabright was effective, the following extract, from the columns of the "Whale Point Gazette," may not only be offered as evidence, but may even give the cautious reader further light on the episode itself:--
STRANGE DISCOVERY AT WEST WOODLANDS.--THE TAMALPAIS MYSTERY AGAIN.
The improvements in the clearing around the Sidon Chapel at West Woodlands, undertaken by the Rev. James Seabright, have disclosed another link in the mystery which surrounded the loss of the Tamalpais some years ago at Whale Mouth Point. It will be remembered that the boat containing Adams & Co."s treasure, the Tamalpais" first officer, and a crew of four men was lost on the rocks shortly after leaving the ill-fated vessel. None of the bodies were ever recovered, and the treasure itself completely baffled the search of divers and salvers. A lidless box bearing the mark of Adams & Co., of the kind in which their treasure was usually shipped, was yesterday found in the woods behind the chapel, half buried in brush, bark, and windfalls. There were no other indications, except the traces of a camp-fire at some remote period, probably long before the building of the chapel. But how and when the box was transported to the upland, and by whose agency, still remains a matter of conjecture. Our reporter who visited the Rev. Mr.
Seabright, who has lately accepted the regular ministry of the chapel, was offered every facility for information, but it was evident that the early settlers who were cognizant of the fact--if there were any--are either dead or have left the vicinity.
THE HOME-COMING OF JIM WILKES.
I.
For many minutes there had been no sound but the monotonous drumming of the rain on the roof of the coach, the swishing of wheels through the gravelly mud, and the momentary clatter of hoofs upon some rocky outcrop in the road. Conversation had ceased; the light-hearted young editor in the front seat, more than suspected of dangerous levity, had relapsed into silence since the heavy man in the middle seat had taken to regarding the ceiling with ostentatious resignation, and the thin female beside him had averted her respectable bonnet. An occasional lurch of the coach brought down a fringe of raindrops from its eaves that filmed the windows and shut out the sodden prospect already darkening into night. There had been a momentary relief in their hurried dash through Summit Springs, and the spectacle of certain newly arrived County Delegates crowding the veranda of its one hotel; but that was now three miles behind. The young editor"s sole resource was to occasionally steal a glance at the face of the one pa.s.senger who seemed to be in sympathy with him, but who was too far away for easy conversation. It was the half-amused, half-perplexed face of a young man who had been for some time regarding him from a remote corner of the coach with an odd mingling of admiring yet cogitating interest, which, however, had never extended to any further encouragement than a faint sad smile. Even this at last faded out in the growing darkness; the powerful coach lamps on either side that flashed on the wayside objects gave no light to the interior. Everybody was slowly falling asleep. Suddenly everybody woke up to find that the coach was apparently standing still! When it had stopped no one knew! The young editor lowered his window. The coach lamp on that side was missing, but nothing was to be seen. In the distance there appeared to be a faint splashing.
"Well," called out an impatient voice from the box above; "what do you make it?" It was the authoritative accents of Yuba Bill, the driver, and everybody listened eagerly for the reply.
It came faintly from the distance and the splashing. "Almost four feet here, and deepening as you go."
"Dead water?"
"No--back water from the Fork."