Crestlands Part 15

CHAPTER XX.

THE LONE GRAVE IN THE MOUNTAINS

That same evening, Abner took Mr. and Mrs. Rogers into his confidence concerning his name, and the business which had called him to Virginia.

The good couple were greatly excited, and they could not have been more delighted had the inheritance fallen to one of their own children.

A few days later, Abner went to see James Drane.

"So old Colonel Hite is dead, and you are his heir," was Drane's astonished exclamation when his client had explained his business, and had shown a copy of the will. "I congratulate you most heartily upon your good fortune. Of course, I know all about this Henderson County tract; for my father was employed to survey it, and to record the claim, and afterwards to transact all business pertaining to it, until his death, five years ago; then I was employed as agent. I have here in my escritoire all papers relative to the business, and copies of all correspondence which pa.s.sed between father and Colonel Hite. Colonel Hite visited Kentucky in '80 or '81, when I was a small boy; but I remember the circ.u.mstance. From what I can recall of him as he appeared then, and from what I gather from his correspondence since, I judge him to have been a very eccentric man. For several years after the tract came into Hite's possession, my father had considerable difficulty with rival claimants--squatters, you know, who claimed it by right of first settlement; but all such difficulties were adjusted long before the agency fell into my hands, and now I can foresee no trouble, nor any very great delay, in establis.h.i.+ng you in your rights--to this part of your inheritance, at least. As to the Virginian estate, of course, you have already placed your interests in the hands of some competent attorney in that State, and have complied with all the necessary legal formalities. Now, in regard to this land of which I have been acting as factor," Drane continued, examining some papers which he had taken out of his desk. "Samuel Whitaker, whose claim adjoins the southeastern boundary of the Hite section, pays a yearly rental of forty-six dollars for 258 acres of the Hite land; and Daniel Pratt, who owns the homestead adjoining the southwestern boundary, holds a ten years' lease (three of which are unexpired) to 285 more acres. The remainder of the section--ninety-seven acres--lying on Buffalo Creek, is low and swampy, and has never been reclaimed."

A few more business details were explained, and then Abner told the lawyer, as he had already told the Rogerses, that for the present--until all business relative to the winding up of the Hite estate was completed--he preferred to be known only as Abner Dudley. He then took his departure, leaving with Drane a copy of the will.

When his client had gone, the lawyer barred his door, and then carefully examined the will. Although he had had the art to hide his feelings during the interview just closed, he was more astonished and puzzled than he had ever been before. Several months before this, in looking through some doc.u.ments pertaining to the Gilcrest property, he had made two startling discoveries: First, that Mrs. Gilcrest's maiden name was Sarah Jane Pepper, instead of Jane Temple, as even her own children supposed it to be. Second, that she was a widow when Hiram Gilcrest married her, and that her first husband had been a John Logan who was killed in the battle of Monmouth Court-house. At the time when Drane had made these discoveries, Gilcrest had explained that Mrs.

Gilcrest's first husband had been a worthless, bad fellow, and that for that reason her desire was that her children should be kept in ignorance of her ever having made this first marriage. On this account, and for another reason which Gilcrest did not confide to Drane, she had led her children to believe that her maiden name was Jane Temple, her maternal grandmother's maiden name.

Abner had stated that his father was John Logan, a soldier in the Continental army, who was killed in the battle of Monmouth Court-house.

"It may be a mere coincidence," thought Drane, "that two men named John Logan were killed in that battle; but, then, why should this fellow have, until now, worn the name of Dudley? Then, there's the unusual wording of the will," and he seized the doc.u.ment and read the words, "'to her' (Mary Belle Hollis Page) 'legitimate offspring, if any.'

'There's something rotten in the state of Denmark'," was Drane's conclusion; "but how to discover it? Let me see, I'd better not mention this to old Gilcrest yet awhile; and certainly I must let no inkling of my suspicions escape to this Abner Dudley, or Abner Logan, or Page, or whatever his right name may be--why, good Lord! I don't believe he has a legitimate right to any name whatsoever. And this is the fine gentleman who dares lift his eyes to the peerless Betty! I needn't have run the risk I did in forging that letter, it seems; this will, I suspect, settle the schoolmaster's pretensions even more effectually, and with no danger to myself, either. But here, if his father and Madame Gilcrest's first husband were one and the same man, I must work very cautiously until I ascertain the exact date of the John Logan alliance with Sarah Jane and that of his connection with Mary Belle. It would be a pretty kettle of fish if I should take old Hiram into my confidence, and it should afterwards be revealed that Sarah Jane was the paramour and Mary Belle the true wife. Pshaw! that's not probable.

Then, there's. .h.i.te's singular expression, 'to her legitimate offspring.' What a fine thing it would be to discover that Mrs.

Gilcrest is. .h.i.te's lawful legatee. To do the schoolmaster justice, though, I believe him entirely innocent of intentional deception in this matter; but I'd stake my reputation for acuteness that this old Richard Dudley knows--only, of course, he bases his nephew's claim upon the fact that Mary Hollis Page was still living at the time Hite made this insane will. Abner Dudley, or Abner Logan, as the case may be, stated that she died in August, 1782. My first step must be to ascertain if this be correct. Let me see, Tom Gaines used to live in Lawsonville, and is still living in Culpeper County. I'll write him for information. On account of his connection with our Spanish schemes he can be trusted to mention my letter to no one. I'll write him immediately, and, while waiting his reply, I'll hover about Oaklands as much as possible, and try to ascertain the date of the Logan-Pepper alliance; and at the same time make another effort to recover possession of Sebastian's letter and that dangerous little specimen of forgery."

The postal system of our country was a slow business in that day and time; but, in due course, Drane had Gaines' reply. From this he learned that a certain old tombstone in the Lawsonville graveyard bore this inscription:

MARY BELLE HOLLIS PAGE born Feb'y 16th, 1758 died Aug. 21st, 1782.

Other information contained in Gaines' letter was this, Mrs. Page had not died at Lawsonville, notwithstanding the tablet erected there to her memory. She had married Marshall Page in October, 1781, and she and her husband and the little Abner had migrated to Kentucky. Late in the next year, a brother of Marshall Page, who had accompanied them to Kentucky, returned to Lawsonville with the little boy, Abner Logan, and the intelligence that Marshall Page had been killed by Indians, and that Mary Page had died at Bryan's Station. The child had been committed to the care of Mrs. Page's relations in Lawsonville, the Dudleys, who had adopted him. Drane's informant also wrote that it had always been the impression with the people of Lawsonville that Mary Hollis had not been legally married to Abner's father, but that she had been entrapped into a form of marriage with John Logan at a time when he had a wife still living.

"By the heavens above, this is the strangest affair that ever came within my ken!" said James Drane after reading Gaines' letter. "Why, I verily believe that the dainty schoolmaster is a b.a.s.t.a.r.d; and, what is more, that he has no claim to the Hite fortune. He certainly has not, if my surmises concerning that half-forgotten episode of that hamlet in the c.u.mberland Mountains be correct."

The episode to which he referred was this. He, when a boy of ten, had once accompanied his father on a visit into southwestern Virginia. On the third day of their journey night had overtaken them near Centerton, a little settlement of five or six cabins in the c.u.mberland Mountains.

They had stopped for shelter at one of these cabins, owned by a family named Wheeler. The next morning there was a terrible rain storm which had detained the travelers in the village until the following day.

While there James had seen a neglected grave marked by a wooden slab, on the mountain-side, just back of the Wheelers' cabin. He was filled with boyish curiosity concerning this lonely grave, and had asked its history.

Several years before, so Mrs. Wheeler had told him, some emigrants on their way into Kentucky had stopped at the Wheeler cabin. The wife of one of these emigrants had been bitten or stung on the cheek by some poisonous reptile while the party was camping in the mountains the night before. The poor woman was suffering horribly when they reached the Wheelers', and she died there the next day from the effects of the venomous wound in her face. They buried her under the trees back of the cabin, and her husband cut her name, age and the date of her death upon that oak slab, and placed it as a headstone to mark the last resting-place of his wife. He and the other emigrants then continued on their journey.

This sad story and the lonely grave on the mountainside had made a deep impression upon the lad, James Drane. He now recalled the story, and he was sure that the name upon that slab was Mary Page. Moreover, he believed that the date recorded on the wooden slab was that of a day of the spring of 1782. After much reflection, Drane decided to tell Major Gilcrest of these discoveries and surmises.

To say that Hiram Gilcrest was amazed at the story which the lawyer related would but feebly express his state of mind. "If our suspicions are correct," he said when he had thought over Drane's story, "as to the date of this woman's death, and if this son of hers is illegitimate, he has no rights at all, under the provisions of this will, to the Hite estates. My wife, in that case, is the heir; and, by heaven, she shall have her rights! It is not that I care so much for the monetary value of what this Andrew Hite left. I am not prompted by mercenary motives; for I have plenty to keep my wife and children in comfort, nor would I covet aught that lawfully or justly belonged to another; but I do not mean to be cheated, or to allow my wife to be cheated, out of her just rights by the crafty schemes of this Dr.

Richard Dudley in behalf of his base-born nephew. I must say, though, that I have considerable commiseration for this young fellow, who is, I believe, not a party--that is, an intentional party--to this fraudulent scheme, notwithstanding his undoubted entanglement in those political plots of Sebastian, Wilkinson and Powers. I protest, I was never in all my life so deceived in a man as I have been in Abner Dudley, or Logan, if he pleases; and I flatter myself, too, upon being a pretty good judge of character. I was much taken with him when he first came to this community. I liked his face, his conversation, and his general bearing, and would have taken oath that he was one to be trusted in all things."

"We must move warily in this matter, James," was the Major's caution, after musing awhile, "until the affair is in shape to be proven in court. I would spare my wife all agitation, if it were possible. She is in an extremely weak, nervous condition, and until it is absolutely necessary to do so, I wish her to know nothing of this matter; and even when it must be brought up in court, I want to spare her all the details of the affair--if that can be done; for any mention of the matter will cost her much excitement and will bring before her again all her old troubles."

After further consultation and many admonitions from Gilcrest as to caution and secrecy, it was agreed that the lawyer should go at once to Centerton.

He started the next morning. Reaching there three days later, he could find no trace of the Wheelers. Their cabin was now occupied by another family who knew nothing of the former occupants except that they had moved away eight years since, and that their present habitation was supposed to be somewhere in the mountains of northern Georgia. No one now living at Centerton could give any information about the grave on the mountain-side. Drane visited it. It was now but a sunken spot covered with a tangle of vines and weeds. The slab was still there, but it was p.r.o.ne on the ground, face downwards, and was much worn and defaced. Drane copied in his note-book all of the inscription that was legible:

Ma-y Be--e

wif- -f

Mar---- Page

di-d h--e

o- w-y -o

K--t--k-

Ma-ch 9 1-82

-ged 22

CHAPTER XXI.

GILCREST'S ATt.i.tUDE

Several weeks wore away, and still no one except Major Gilcrest, his daughter, the Rogers family and James Drane was aware of the change in Abner's worldly prospects. As to his business affairs, he felt no uneasiness; for he knew that his interests in Virginia were being looked after by Dr. Dudley; and in regard to the Henderson County land, he agreed with Drane that as it was still in the hands of tenants, nothing need be done at present towards making known his owners.h.i.+p. But he became extremely impatient over the unsettled state of his love affair.

Major Gilcrest, instead of growing more like his former self, became sterner, if possible, and had little to do with his neighbors. Betsy, strong in the belief that time would effect a favorable change in her father's att.i.tude, still pleaded with Abner not to speak with him.

James Drane was often at Oaklands, and Abner, aware of this, while he, Betsy's betrothed husband, was prohibited from visiting her, grew more and more moody and impatient, and sometimes in his despondency he pictured the girl as listening with growing interest to Drane's entertaining talk, and yielding more and more to his fascination.

"With her headstrong old father so set against me, and so confoundedly wrapped up in Drane, it would be no great wonder if Betty were finally stolen from me," thought Abner bitterly, one afternoon when he knew that the lawyer was at Oaklands. He had little heart for social gayeties of the neighborhood, although he sometimes went to these gatherings in the hope of seeing Betsy. Yet these meetings amid a crowd of young people were very unsatisfactory.

"I reckon Betsy holds herse'f above common fo'ks, now she's visitin'

'mong the big bugs," Abner heard Mrs. Rogers say one day in answer to Lucy's remark that Betsy never came to see them now.

"No, ma," Susan ventured, "Betsy is not one to change. She loves us as well as ever, I feel sure."

"Well, ef she ain't too stuck up to notice us, her ma's too proud to let her," retorted Mrs. Rogers. "I allus said thet in spite uv Jane's meechin' ways, she felt herse'f above us. We ain't got blue blood in our veins. We ain't kin to the Temples an' Blairs an' Goodloes, and the rest uv them ristahcrats."

"Mrs. Gilcrest always treats me well when I go there," answered Susan, "and as for Betsy," she continued, her cheeks flus.h.i.+ng and her eyes s.h.i.+ning, "she's the truest, sweetest girl that ever lived."

"Then, why don't she come to see us lak she usetah?" demanded Mrs.

Rogers.

Susan said nothing, but involuntarily glanced at Abner. Their eyes met; Susan quickly averted hers, and he thought, "I wonder if Susan knows!"

"Thah's her pap, too," Mrs. Rogers went on, "he's gittin' crusty an'

stiff-lipped ez a sore-eyed b'ar."

"Hiram ain't hisse'f jes' now," interposed Mason; "he's plum crazy kaze folks ain't ready to jump on Brothah Stone an' t'ar him limb frum limb.