out o' your body. Better promise than die."
Still she stood looking him unflinchingly in the eye; not a muscle moving, no sign of fear except that deadly pallor.
"Well," lowering his piece, "you're a brave girl, and I haven't the heart to do it," he exclaimed in admiration. "I'll give up that promise; on condition that you make another—that you'll keep all this a secret for twenty-four hours, so I can make my escape from the neighborhood before they get after me with their bloodhounds."
"That I promise, if you will be gone at once."
"You'll not say a word to any one of having seen me, or suspecting I'm about here?"
"Not a word until the twenty-four hours are over."
"Then good-bye. Your pluck has saved your life; but remember, I've not said I won't shoot him or your father, if chance throws them in my way," he added, looking back over his shoulder with a malicious leer, as he left the arbor, then disappearing from sight among the trees and shrubbery beyond.
Elsie's knees shook and trembled under her; she sank back into her seat, covering her face and bowing her head upon her lap, while she sent up silent, almost agonizing petitions for the safety of those two so inexpressibly dear to her. Some moments passed thus, then she rose and hastened, with a quick nervous step, to the house. She entered her boudoir, and lay down upon a couch trembling in every fibre, every nerve quivering with excitement. The shock had been terrible.
"What de matter wid my chile? what ails you, honey?" asked Aunt Chloe, coming to her side full of concern.
"I think one of my bad headaches is coming on, mammy. But oh, tell me, is Mr. Travilla here?—and papa! where is he?"
"Here daughter," his voice answered, close at hand, "and with a note for you from Mr. Travilla, who has not shown himself to-day."
She took it eagerly, but with a hand that trembled as if with sudden palsy, while the eyes, usually so keen-sighted, saw only a blurred and confused jumble of letters in place of the clear, legible characters really there.
"I cannot see," she said, in a half-frightened tone, and pressing the other hand to her brow.
"And you are trembling like an aspen leaf," he said, bending over her in serious alarm. "My child, when did this come on? and what has caused it?"
"Papa, I cannot tell you now, or till to-morrow, at this hour; I will then. But oh, papa dear, dear papa!" she cried, putting her arm about his neck and bursting into hysterical weeping, "promise me, if you love me promise me, that you will not leave the house till I have told you. I am sick, I am suffering; you will stay by me? you will not leave me?"
"My darling, I will do anything I can to relieve you, mentally or physically," he answered in tones of tenderest love and concern. "I shall not stir from the house, while to do so would increase your suffering. I perceive there has been some villainy practised upon you, and a promise extorted, which I shall not ask you to break; but rest assured, I shall keep guard over my precious one."
"And Mr. Travilla!" she gasped. "Oh, papa, if I only knew he was safe!"
"Perhaps the note may set your mind at rest on that point. Shall I read it for you?"
"Yes, sir," she said, putting it into his hand with a slight blush, "he never writes what I should be ashamed or afraid to have my father see."
It was but short, written merely to explain his absence, and dated from a neighboring plantation, where he had gone to assist in nursing a sick friend whom he should not be able to leave for some days. There were words of deep, strong affection, but as she had foreseen, nothing that she need care to have her father know or see.
"Does not this news allay your fears for him?" Mr. Dinsmore asked tenderly.
"Yes, papa," she answered, the tears streaming from her eyes. "Oh, how good God is to me! I will trust Him, trust Him for you both, as well as myself." She covered her face with her hands while shudder after shudder shook her whole frame.
Mr. Dinsmore was much perplexed, and deeply concerned. "Shall I send for Dr. Barton?" he asked.
"No, no, papa! I am not ill; only my nerves have had a great, a terrible shock; they seem all unstrung, and my temples are throbbing with pain."
"My poor, poor darling! strange that with all my care and watchfulness you should have been subjected to such a trial. Some ruffian has been trying to extort money from you, I presume, by threatened violence to yourself, Travilla, and me. Where were you?"
"In my arbor, sir."
"And alone?"
"Yes, papa; I thought myself safe there."
"I forbid you to go there or to any distance from the house, alone, again. You must always have some one within call, if not close at your side."
"And my father knows I will obey him," she said, tremulously lifting his hand to her lips.
He administered an anodyne to relieve the tortured nerves, then sitting down beside her, passed his hand soothingly over hair and cheek, while with the other he held one of hers in loving, tender clasp. Neither spoke, and at length she fell asleep; yet not a sound, refreshing slumber, but disturbed by starts and moans, and frequent wakings to see and feel that he was still there. "Papa, don't go away; don't leave me!" was her constant cry.
"My darling, my precious one, I will not," was his repeated assurance; "I will stay with you while this trouble lasts."
And all that day and night he never left her side, while Rose came and went, full of anxiety and doing everything that could be done for the sufferer's relief.
It was a night of unrest to them all; but morning found her free from pain, though weak and languid, and still filled with distress if her father was absent for more than a few moments from her side. She inquired of him at what hour she had come in the day before: then watched the time and, as soon as released from her promise, told them all.
Great was his indignation; and, determined that, if possible, the villain should be apprehended and brought to justice, he sent word at once to the magistrates: a warrant was issued, and several parties were presently out in different directions in hot pursuit.
But with the twenty-four hours' start Jackson had made good his escape, and the only advantage gained was the relief of knowing that he no longer infested the neighborhood.
"But when may he not return?" Elsie said with a shudder. "Papa, I tremble for you, and for—Mr. Travilla."
"I am far more concerned for you," he answered, gazing upon her pale face with pitying, fatherly tenderness. "But let us cast this care, with all others, upon our God. 'Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Thee; because he trusteth in Thee.'"
Chapter Eleventh
"Of truth, he truly will all styles deserve
Of wise, good, just; a man both soul and nerve."
—SHIRLEY.
The story reached Mr. Travilla's ears that evening, and finding he could be spared from the sick-room, he hastened to the Oaks. His emotions were too big for utterance as he took his "little friend" in his arms and clasped her to his beating heart.
"God be thanked that you are safe!" he said at last. "Oh, my darling, my darling, what peril you have been in and how bravely you met it! You are the heroine of the hour," he added with a faint laugh, "all, old and young, male and female, black and white, are loud in praise of your wonderful firmness and courage. And, my darling, I fully agree with them, and exult in the thought that this brave lady is mine own."
He drew her closer as he spoke, and just touched his lips to the shining hair and the pure white forehead resting on his breast.
"Ah!" she murmured low and softly, a dewy light shining