Silent Struggles Part 7

"Yes, if you are the mistress of this house."

"For want of a better," answered the dame, drawing herself up primly.

"I--I am a stranger. Have just come over in the s.h.i.+p which landed to-day."

"What, another!" said Goody Brown, coming slowly out of her loom. "I had the hull house full last night."

"I do not wish to incommode you, my good lady, only to inquire about those who set out so rashly in the boat before we came up to the wharf.

They were all brought here, I am told."

"Well, yes, I had a houseful of 'em overnight, but this morning they were well enough to go away."

"What, all?"

"All but the lady; she's completely tuckered out, and won't get out of her bed to-day, I reckon."

"But she is not seriously hurt?" cried the man, almost gasping for breath.

"No, I guess not; only kinder worn out. The yarb tea has done her a sight of good."

The stranger looked at her eagerly as she spoke. A dozen questions seemed trembling on his lips; but he restrained them, only saying, in a voice that would tremble in spite of his efforts,

"Then you are certain that she is out of danger?"

"Sartin, of course. She'll be chirk as a bird to-morrow."

The stranger sat down in the chair which the dame offered while she was speaking. A bowl of warm bread and milk stood on the kitchen hearth, close by the fire. Goody Brown took it up.

"I've got to take this in, for she's getting hungry, but I won't be gone more'n a minute."

With this half apology, the good woman opened a side door and went into Barbara Stafford's room. The man looked after her with eyes full of impatient yearning. He rose from his chair and stole softly toward the door, listening; but no sound answered his expectations, and he had scarcely returned to his seat when Goody Brown came back with the bowl of bread and milk in her hand. She sat it down in the hearth, and turning to her visitor, said, in a half whisper,

"She's sound asleep."

"Madam," said the traveller, "will you give me a cup of milk? I have been so long at sea--"

"Well, now, I shouldn't wonder!" cried the dame, interrupting him. "I'll go right down to the spring-house and get it."

She took a pitcher from the table and went out. The moment her shadow left the threshold stone the young man started up and softly opened the door of Barbara Stafford's room. He paused a moment, with the latch in his hand, hesitating and breathless, for the lady lay before him in a profound sleep. The face was turned toward him; one hand rested under her cheek, the other fell upon the blue and white counterpane. Her thick golden hair rolled in coils and waves over the pillow.

The young man's eyes grew misty, the breath broke almost in a sob on his lips. He crept softly toward the bed, fell upon his knees, and gazed upon the lady with pa.s.sionate sorrow that might have disturbed an angel in its first heavenly rest. But she did not move. The deep slumber of exhaustion held her faculties locked. A coil of hair, loosened by its own weight, rolled downward and swept across her arm. Still she did not move. He gathered the tresses gently between his hands, laid them against his cheek, and pressed wild kisses upon them. Then he heard a sound. It was Goody Brown's footsteps coming up from the spring-house.

With rash desperation he took that white hand in his, covered it with kisses soft as the fall of thistledown, dropped it and glided from the room.

Goody Brown found her guest sitting in his old place near the fire, looking grieved and sad, but with a warm flush on his cheeks. He took the milk that she offered; drank a little, it seemed with difficulty, and, laying a piece of money on the table, turned to go.

"If you'd jest as lieves wait a minit," said the housewife, blus.h.i.+ng like a girl. "I hain't had a chance to ask a single question. They all went off so sudden; but my old man was aboard the vessel."

"What, your husband?"

"Jes so, Jason Brown; mebby you know something about him?"

The stranger gave a glance at the person he had left whittling in the far distance and smiled uneasily.

"Yes, I know him," he said. "He came safely ash.o.r.e with the s.h.i.+p."

"Then she's got to the wharf?" questioned the woman.

"Yes."

"Then he'll be along by-and-by," said the wife, ashamed of taking so much interest in the subject. "Much obleeged to you for telling me."

Thus dismissed the stranger left the house and went back to the place where he had left Jason Brown.

"Wal," said that composed personage, "I hope you got a drink of milk worth having."

"Yes; but why did you not tell me that the woman was your wife?"

answered the stranger.

"Cause you didn't ask me. But how is the old woman?"

"She seems well and was very kind."

"Wimmen are kind by natur," said the sailor, shutting his jackknife with a jerk, the only sign of impatience yet visible. "But I reckon I'll jest step in and see how she gets along, if you don't want me tu go about Boston streets with you right away."

"No, no. I shall not remain in Boston, and can find plenty of guides where I am going."

"Don't want me to carry this ere bag for you, nor nothin'?" asked the man a little anxiously, as he gave up the traveller's bag.

"No, no; I prefer to carry it myself. But you are master of that house?"

"Yes, generally; when my wife ain't to home."

"In that case I have some boxes on board the s.h.i.+p, and should like to place them under your care for a few weeks, could they be moved to your house."

"Jes so," answered Brown.

"Then take charge of them. I will leave an order on board the s.h.i.+p."

"Jes so."

"And pay you well for the trouble now in advance."

"Jes so," answered Brown, holding out his hand for the money. "Now, if you've no objections, I'll go up to the house, for I'm afeared the old woman will be kinder expecting me."

The stranger took his leathern bag from the ground and walked one way, while Jason Brown went to the farm-house; not rapidly, for he, too, was ashamed of being in a hurry to see his wife; but with a step that would grow quick and impatient spite of his philosophy.

"Jason, is that you?" cried Goody Brown, getting out of her loom and meeting her husband half way to the door. "How have you been?"