"And a married man, too!" continued Betty.
"Well, being married has not affected my poetical sentiment, nor impaired my eyesight."
"But it has seriously inconvenienced your old propensity of making love to the girls. Not that you wouldn"t if you dared," replied Betty with mischief in her eye.
"Now, Will, what do you think of that? Isn"t it real sisterly regard?
Come, we"ll go and look at my thoroughbreds," said Colonel Zane.
"Where is Jonathan?" Helen asked presently. "Something happened at Metzar"s yesterday. Papa wouldn"t tell me, and I want to ask Jonathan."
"Jack is down by the spring. He spends a great deal of his time there.
It"s shady and cool, and the water babbles over the stones."
"How much alone he is," said Helen.
Betty took her former position on the steps, but did not raise her eyes while she continued speaking. "Yes, he"s more alone than ever lately, and quieter, too. He hardly ever speaks now. There must be something on his mind more serious than horse-thieves."
"What?" Helen asked quickly.
"I"d better not tell--you."
A long moment pa.s.sed before Helen spoke.
"Please tell me!"
"Well, Helen, we think, Eb and I, that Jack is in love for the first time in his life, and with you, you adorable creature. But Jack"s a borderman; he is stern in his principles, thinks he is wedded to his border life, and he knows that he has both red and white blood on his hands. He"d die before he"d speak of his love, because he cannot understand that would do any good, even if you loved him, which is, of course, preposterous."
"Loves me!" breathed Helen softly.
She sat down rather beside Betty, and turned her face away. She still held the young woman"s hand which she squeezed so tightly as to make its owner wince. Betty stole a look at her, and saw the rich red blood mantling her cheeks, and her full bosom heave.
Helen turned presently, with no trace of emotion except a singular brilliance of the eyes. She was so slow to speak again that Colonel Zane and Will returned from the corral before she found her voice.
"Colonel Zane, please tell me about last night. When papa came home to supper he was pale and very nervous. I knew something had happened.
But he would not explain, which made me all the more anxious. Won"t you please tell me?"
Colonel Zane glanced again at her, and knew what had happened. Despite her self-possession those tell-tale eyes told her secret.
Ever-changing and shadowing with a bounding, rapturous light, they were indeed the windows of her soul. All the emotion of a woman"s heart shone there, fear, beauty, wondering appeal, trembling joy, and timid hope.
"Tell you? Indeed I will," replied Colonel Zane, softened and a little remorseful under those wonderful eyes.
No one liked to tell a story better than Colonel Zane. Briefly and graphically he related the circ.u.mstances of the affair leading to the attack on Helen"s father, and, as the tale progressed, he became quite excited, speaking with animated face and forceful gestures.
"Just as the knife-point touched your father, a swiftly-flying object knocked the weapon to the floor. It was Jonathan"s tomahawk. What followed was so sudden I hardly saw it. Like lightning, and flexible as steel, Jonathan jumped over the table, smashed Case against the wall, pulled him up and threw him over the bank. I tell you, Helen, it was a beautiful piece of action; but not, of course, for a woman"s eyes. Now that"s all. Your father was not even hurt."
"He saved papa"s life," murmured Helen, standing like a statue.
She wheeled suddenly with that swift bird-like motion habitual to her, and went quickly down the path leading to the spring.
Jonathan Zane, solitary dreamer of dreams as he was, had never been in as strange and beautiful a reverie as that which possessed him on this Sabbath morning.
Deep into his heart had sunk Betty"s words. The wonder of it, the sweetness, that alone was all he felt. The glory of this girl had begun, days past, to spread its glamour round him. Swept irresistibly away now, he soared aloft in a dream-castle of fancy with its painted windows and golden walls.
For the first time in his life on the border he had entered the little glade and had no eye for the crystal water flowing over the pebbles and mossy stones, or the plot of gra.s.sy ground inclosed by tall, dark trees and shaded by a canopy of fresh green and azure blue. Nor did he hear the music of the soft rushing water, the warbling birds, or the gentle sighing breeze moving the leaves.
Gone, vanished, lost to-day was that sweet companionship of nature.
That indefinable and unutterable spirit which flowed so peacefully to him from his beloved woods; that something more than merely affecting his senses, which existed for him in the stony cliffs, and breathed with life through the lonely aisles of the forest, had fled before the fateful power of a woman"s love and beauty.
A long time that seemed only a moment pa.s.sed while he leaned against a stone. A light step sounded on the path.
A vision in pure white entered the glade; two little hands pressed his, and two dark-blue eyes of misty beauty shed their light on him.
"Jonathan, I am come to thank you."
Sweet and tremulous, the voice sounded far away.
"Thank me? For what?"
"You saved papa"s life. Oh! how can I thank you?"
No voice answered for him.
"I have nothing to give but this."
A flower-like face was held up to him; hands light as thistledown touched his shoulders; dark-blue eyes glowed upon him with all tenderness.
"May I thank you--so?"
Soft lips met his full and lingeringly.
Then came a rush as of wind, a flash of white, and the patter of flying feet. He was alone in the glade.
CHAPTER X
June pa.s.sed; July opened with unusually warm weather, and Fort Henry had no visits from Indians or horse-thieves, nor any inconvenience except the hot sun. It was the warmest weather for many years, and seriously dwarfed the settlers" growing corn. Nearly all the springs were dry, and a drouth menaced the farmers.
The weather gave Helen an excuse which she was not slow to adopt. Her pale face and languid air perplexed and worried her father and her friends. She explained to them that the heat affected her disagreeably.
Long days had pa.s.sed since that Sunday morning when she kissed the borderman. What transports of sweet hope and fear were hers then! How shame had scorched her happiness! Yet still she gloried in the act. By that kiss had she awakened to a full consciousness of her love. With insidious stealth and ever-increasing power this flood had increased to full tide, and, bursting its bonds, surged over her with irresistible strength.
During the first days after the dawning of her pa.s.sion, she lived in its sweetness, hearing only melodious sounds chiming in her soul. The hours following that Sunday were like long dreams. But as all things reach fruition, so this girlish period pa.s.sed, leaving her a thoughtful woman. She began to gather up the threads of her life where love had broken them, to plan n.o.bly, and to hope and wait.
Weeks pa.s.sed, however, and her lover did not come. Betty told her that Jonathan made flying trips at break of day to hold council with Colonel Zane; that he and Wetzel were on the trail of Shawnees with stolen horses, and both bordermen were in their dark, vengeful, terrible moods. In these later days Helen pa.s.sed through many stages of feeling. After the exalting mood of hot, young love, came reaction.