The Gold Brick Part 27

A CROWD UNDER THE b.u.t.tERNUT TREE.

At last the old woman came in. With the sly instincts of insanity, Katharine lay still, holding the blankets over her head, pretending to be asleep.

The old lady did not attempt to disturb her, but merely looked in to see that all was quiet, and went to the kitchen. To her surprise, she found the outer door open. The wind had swept in, scattering snow and ashes over the floor. This had produced a draught down the wide-mouthed chimney, and filled the room with smoke. Mrs. Allen threw up a sash, which produced an eddy of wind and sent some loose papers flying toward the hearth--one, which seemed to be a letter, floated by her and was drawn up the chimney, catching fire as it went; another was following, but she grasped it in time, and found that the flimsy bit of silk paper was a bank bill of considerable amount. Two others she picked up from the floor.

Who could have been in her house? How was it possible for so much money to have found its way there? She went into the bedroom, resolved to question Katharine, who heard her coming, and crouched under the bedclothes.

"Katharine! Katharine!"

No answer.

The old lady, fearing she scarcely knew what, went up to the bed and turned down the clothes. There was a little resistance, and then Katharine looked up with a frightened smile, trembling terribly either with dread or cold.

"Who has been here since I went away, Katharine?"

"I don't know."

"But look! Where did all this money come from?"

"I don't know."

And, indeed, she did not know, never having taken a thought of that portion of Thrasher's letter; even the epistle itself only whirled through the chaos of her mind, like dead leaves in a tempest.

Mrs. Allen examined the money again, while Katharine eyed her with the sharp cunning of insanity.

"How you shake, child? The open door has given you a chill."

"It was too warm! too warm!" muttered the poor creature; "crimson hot, crimson hot!"

Mrs. Allen was so surprised with the money that she did not heed the strange murmur of her daughter. She put the bills away in an old teapot in the corner cupboard. Then something struck her as unnatural in the stillness of the room, and she went back again.

"Is the baby asleep yet?" she inquired, sitting down by the bed.

Katharine shrunk away from her; but answered in a quick, eager way:

"Yes; it sleeps sweetly, sweetly, sweetly."

This strange repet.i.tion of one word drew Mrs. Allen's attention more closely to the invalid. There was something strange in her face--a gleam of vigilant cunning in the eyes that made the mother anxious.

"How soundly the little thing sleeps," she said.

"Yes, soundly," was the answer.

"Move a little, and let me take it up."

"No!"

A look of defiance came into that beautiful face. Katharine was resolved to defend her secret to the last moment.

Mrs. Allen became frightened; forced the bedclothes from that feeble grasp, and stooped down to search for the child.

It was gone!

"Where--oh, Katharine--where is the baby?"

A gleam of infinite craft stole into those blue eyes.

"What baby?"

"Yours, yours--our own little child! who has taken it away?"

"n.o.body."

"Then where is it?"

"Asleep; didn't I tell you so?"

Mrs. Allen rushed into the kitchen and searched it in every corner. The smoke had cleared away, and she discovered tracks of a small, naked foot in the loose snow that had drifted into the room. Where was the child?

what could have happened? Mrs. Allen rushed distractedly into the street, just as the neighbor whom she had been in search of drove up with a load of wood on his sled.

"h.e.l.lo! what's the matter, Mrs. Allen?" he called out, as she came toward the gate, pale as death, and wringing her hands.

"Our baby--my little grandchild--it is gone!"

The man stopped and emitted a low whistle.

"So there was something in all that talk," he muttered, "hard as I stood up for her."

"I only left to run down to your house--we hadn't another armful of wood. When I came back, the outdoor was open, the room full of smoke, and she all alone! Oh, G.o.d help me, what can I do!"

"Just go into the house, and let us talk it all over," said the kind-hearted farmer, leaving his oxen; "I don't understand."

"Oh, we cannot stop to talk--the child must be found. Isn't that Mr.

Stokes coming up the hill? Call him--we must search--we must find it."

The farmer called out for Mr. Stokes to hurry forward, and at the same time ran to meet him. The two men stood talking together some minutes, then came toward the house in company.

Mrs. Allen had gone back to her daughter, and with tears raining down her face, was pleading with her. Poor woman! it was many years since she had cried like that, but when an infant comes to a lonely house, the fountain of tears is sure to swell afresh in the most stern bosom. The sweet word, "grandmother," had been applied to her. The baby's little heart had stirred against her own; without that child, all the stern desolation of her life would come back again.

But Katharine could not answer.

The two men came in, looking curious and excited; their presence seemed to strike Katharine dumb. She lay with her eyes wide open, staring at them. A vague smile wandered on her lips as they questioned her, but no words.

Baffled and still anxious, the men went into the kitchen again, leaving Mrs. Allen behind. They saw the tracks still imprinted on the floor, and followed them with keen observation. The tracks continued out into the yard, turned there, and led toward the orchard. One naked footprint was stamped on the top of the stone wall, as if a leap had pressed it deeply there. After this there was little trouble--broken places in the snow crust led them on till they stood by the rock under the b.u.t.ternut tree.

It is strange how soon a crowd will collect, if any thing unusual is going on, even in the remotest places. A good many people were on the road, some going to the stores at Chewstown or Falls Hill, some taking grists to mill, and others loitering on their way to the tavern, whose red sign swung on the river road a little beyond Rock Spring.