"I"m an old man," said Ezra Graves.
Cynthia could not help thinking that he was a very different man, in Miss Lucretia"s presence, than when at the head of the prudential committee.
"Ezra," said Miss Lucretia, "for a man you do very well."
The judge smiled.
"Thank you, Lucretia," said he. He seemed to appreciate the full extent of the compliment.
"Judge Graves," said Cynthia, "I can tell you how good you are, at least, and thank you for your great kindness to me, which I shall never forget."
She took his withered hands from his knees and pressed them. He returned the pressure, and then searched his coat tails, found a handkerchief, and blew his nose violently.
"I merely did my duty, Miss Wetherell," he said. "I would not wilfully submit to a wrong."
"You called me Cynthia yesterday."
"So I did," he answered, "so I did." Then he looked at Miss Lucretia.
"Ezra," said that lady, smiling a little, "I don"t believe you have changed, after all."
What she meant by that n.o.body knows.
"I had thought, Cynthia," said the judge, "that it might be more comfortable for you to have me go to the school with you. That is the reason for my early call."
"Judge Graves, I do appreciate your kindness," said Cynthia; "I hope you won"t think I"m rude if I say I"d rather go alone."
"On the contrary, my dear," replied the judge, "I think I can understand and esteem your feeling in the matter, and it shall be as you wish."
"Then I think I had better be going," said Cynthia. The judge rose in alarm at the words, but she put her hand on his shoulder. "Won"t you sit down and stay," she begged, "you haven"t seen Miss Lucretia for how many years,--thirty, isn"t it?"
Again he glanced at Miss Lucretia, uncertainly. "Sit down, Ezra," she commanded, "and for goodness" sake don"t be afraid of the cane bottom.
You won"t go through it. I should like to talk to you, and most of the gossips of our day are dead. I shall stay in Brampton to-day, Cynthia, and eat supper with you here this evening."
Cynthia, as she went out of the door, wondered what they would talk about. Then she turned toward the school. It was not the March wind that burned her cheeks; as she thought of the ma.s.s meeting the night before, which was all about her, she wished she might go to school that morning through the woods and pasture lots rather than down Brampton Street.
What--what would Bob say when he heard of the meeting? Would he come again to Brampton? If he did, she would run away to Boston with Miss Lucretia. Every day it had been a trial to pa.s.s the Worthington house, but she could not cross the wide street to avoid it. She hurried a little, unconsciously, when she came to it, for there was Mr.
Worthington on the steps talking to Mr. Flint. How he must hate her now, Cynthia reflected! He did not so much as look up when she pa.s.sed.
The other citizens whom she met made up for Mr. Worthington"s coldness, and gave her a hearty greeting, and some stopped to offer their congratulations. Cynthia did not pause to philosophize: she was learning to accept the world as it was, and hurried swiftly on to the little schoolhouse. The children saw her coming, and ran to meet her and escorted her triumphantly in at the door. Of their welcome she could be sure. Thus she became again teacher of the lower school.
How the judge and Miss Lucretia got along that morning, Cynthia never knew. Miss Lucretia spent the day in her old home, submitting to hero-worship, and attended an evening party in her honor at Mr. Gamaliel Ives"s house--a mansion not so large as the first citizen"s, though it had two bay-windows and was not altogether unimposing. The first citizen, needless to say, was not there, but the rest of the elite attended. Mr. Ives will tell you all about the entertainment if you go to Brampton, but the real reason Miss Lucretia consented to go was to please Lucy Baird, who was Gamaliel"s wife, and to chat with certain old friends whom she had not seen. The next morning she called at the school to bid Cynthia good-by, and to whisper something in her ear which made her very red before all the scholars. She shook her head when Miss Lucretia said it, for it had to do with an incident in the 29th chapter of Genesis.
While Jonathan Hill was being made a hero of in the little two-by-four office of the feed store the morning after the ma.s.s meeting (though n.o.body offered to take over his mortgage), Mr. Dodd was complaining to his wife of shooting pains, and "callated" he would stay at home that day.
"Shootin" fiddlesticks!" said Mrs. Dodd. "Get along down to the store and face the music, Levi Dodd. You"d have had shootin" pains if you"d a went to the meetin"."
"I might stop by at Mr. Worthington"s house and explain how powerless I was--"
"For goodness" sake git out, Levi. I guess he knows how powerless you are with your shootin" pains. If you only could forget Isaac D.
Worthington for three minutes, you wouldn"t have "em."
Mr. Dodd"s two clerks saw him enter the store by the back door and he was very much interested in the new ploughs which were piled up in crates outside of it. Then he disappeared into his office and shut the door, and supposedly became very much absorbed in book-keeping. If any one called, he was out--any one. Plenty of people did call, but he was not disturbed--until ten o"clock. Mr. Dodd had a very sensitive ear, and he could often recognize a man by his step, and this man he recognized.
"Where"s Mr. Dodd?" demanded the owner of the step, indignantly.
"He"s out, Mr. Worthington. Anything I can do for you, Mr. Worthington?"
"You can tell him to come up to my house the moment he comes in."
Unfortunately Mr. Dodd in the office had got into a strained position.
He found it necessary to move a little; the day-book fell heavily to the floor, and the perspiration popped out all over his forehead. Come out, Levi Dodd. The Bastille is taken, but there are other fortresses still in the royal hands where you may be confined.
"Who"s in the office?"
"I don"t know, sir," answered the clerk, winking at his companion, who was sorting nails.
In three strides the great man had his hand on the office door and had flung it open, disclosing the culprit cowering over the day-book on the floor.
"Mr. Dodd," cried the first citizen, "what do you mean by--?"
Some natures, when terrified, are struck dumb. Mr. Dodd"s was the kind which bursts into speech.
"I couldn"t help it, Mr. Worthington," he cried, "they would have it. I don"t know what got into "em. They lost their senses, Mr. Worthington, plumb lost their senses. If you"d a b"en there, you might have brought "em to. I tried to git the floor, but Ezry Graves--"
"Confound Ezra Graves, and wait till I have done, can"t you,"
interrupted the first citizen, angrily. "What do you mean by putting a bath-tub into my house with the tin loose, so that I cut my leg on it?"
Mr. Dodd nearly fainted from sheer relief.
"I"ll put a new one in to-day, right now," he gasped.
"See that you do," said the first citizen, "and if I lose my leg, I"ll sue you for a hundred thousand dollars."
"I was a-goin" to explain about them losin" their heads at the ma.s.s meetin"--"
"d.a.m.n their heads!" said the first citizen. "And yours, too," he may have added under his breath as he stalked out. It was not worth a swing of the executioner"s axe in these times of war. News had arrived from the state capital that morning of which Mr. Dodd knew nothing.
Certain feudal chiefs from the North Country, of whose allegiance Mr. Worthington had felt sure, had obeyed the summons of their old sovereign, Jethro Ba.s.s, and had come South to hold a conclave under him at the Pelican. Those chiefs of the North Country, with their clans behind them as one man, what a power they were in the state! What magnificent qualities they had, in battle or strategy, and how cunning and shrewd was their generalship! Year after year they came down from their mountains and fought shoulder to shoulder, and year after year they carried back the lion"s share of the spoils between them. The great South, as a whole, was powerless to resist them, for there could be no lasting alliance between Harwich and Brampton and Newcastle and Gosport.
Now their king had come back, and the North Country men were rallying again to his standard. No wonder that Levi Dodd"s head, poor thing that it was, was safe for a while.
"Organize what you have left, and be quick about it," said Mr. Flint, when the news had come, and they sat in the library planning a new campaign in the face of this evident defection. There was no time to cry over spilt milk or reinstated school-teachers. The messages flew far and wide to the manufacturing towns to range their guilds into line for the railroads. The seneschal wrote the messages, and sent the summons to the sleek men of the cities, and let it be known that the coffers were full and not too tightly sealed, that the faithful should not lack for the sinews of war. Mr. Flint found time, too, to write some carefully worded but nevertheless convincing articles for the Newcastle Guardian, very damaging to certain commanders who had proved unfaithful.
"Flint," said Mr. Worthington, when they had worked far into the night, "if Ba.s.s beats us, I"m a crippled man."
"And if you postpone the fight now that you have begun it? What then?"
The answer, Mr. Worthington knew, was the same either way. He did not repeat it. He went to his bed, but not to sleep for many hours, and when he came down to his breakfast in the morning, he was in no mood to read the letter from Cambridge which Mrs. Holden had put on his plate. But he did read it, with what anger and bitterness may be imagined. There was the ultimatum,--respectful, even affectionate, but firm. "I know that you will, in all probability, disinherit me as you say, and I tell you honestly that I regret the necessity of quarrelling with you more than I do the money. I do not pretend to say that I despise money, and I like the things that it buys, but the woman I love is more to me than all that you have."
Mr. Worthington laid the letter down, and there came irresistibly to his mind something that his wife had said to him before she died, shortly after they had moved into the mansion. "Dudley, how happy we used to be together before we were rich!" Money had not been everything to Sarah Worthington, either. But now no tender wave of feeling swept over him as he recalled those words. He was thinking of what weapon he had to prevent the marriage beyond that which was now useless--disinheritance.