Twice loyal; a novel

Chapter I

The slanting rays of the September sun, straggling through the open windows of the crowded stage coach

that w T as making its daily trip from the city of M ,

the capital of one of the South Atlantic States, — to the county seat of an adjoining county, fell lightly upon the strong clear cut features of a young man seated well to the front, who was busily engaged in the perusal of a morning newspaper.

The coach coming to a halt, the driver leaned over the end of the seat upon which he was perched and relieved his mouth of a huge quid of tobacco, which he jealously watched until it fell, — a spattering mass, — to the pure white earth below ; then, bending his head a trifle lower, he called out in a trumpet-like tone:

“ Myrwood ! ”

At the call, the young man, who had provoked no little curiosity among his fellow travelers, climbed out and hastily began shaking the dust from his light overcoat, while his glance idly followed the retreating coach as it descended the hill beyond. Then he passed through the huge iron gateway and walked slowly up the shaded avenue, stopping ever and anon to gaze on the beauty of the familiar surroundings.

Gleaming white through the great trees, the blue smoke curling upward from one of its red chimneys, rose the stately mansion of Judge Hunter, which from its elevated position commanded an extensive view of the country beyond.

Standing on the broad piazza that surrounded three sides of the house were two girls, the younger protesting with the older:

“ Caddie,” she said, “ I think it cruel of Uncle Thomas to take you away to boarding school. I can’t see why a girl should want to be a walking encyclopedia, anyway. If ever I know one-half what you do, I will be satisfied.”

“ While it grieves me very much to leave home, Frankie, I realize it is for my ultimate good; besides, it is the wish of mother that I graduate from the school in which she finished. I am sure when you reach a more mature age, little cousin, you, too, will be shipped North for a finishing touch.”

“ Indeed, I shall never, never leave this beautiful spot, — no, not for all the knowledge in Yankeedom! There are schools in the South quite good enough for me when I am ready for further polishing,” said the indignant child, thrusting one small foot through the white railing. Suddenly turning, she poutingly remarked :

“ Since you must go, then promise me you will not come home with that sweet voice of yours screwed up to a nasal twang pitch like that of Miss Gibbs, my governess.”

“Come, spitfire; you must not allow prejudices to

S provoke sarcasm,” laughingly interposed Judge Hunter as he came from the hall-way. Whatever reply the child might have had ready was cut short by the approach of a gentleman who had opened the low gate and was now coming up the gravel walk. Mounting the steps, he soon faced the trio.

“ Robert Neville ! I am glad to welcome you back to your native land. When did you arrive?” said Judge Hunter, grasping the hand of the new-comer.

“ I arrived in town this morning, — directly from New York, — and came over this far in the stage-coach, thinking to borrow a horse from you whereby I might complete my journey to Neville Hall.”

“ Mr. Neville, this is my daughter Catherine whom you remember as a tot in aprons when on your last visit home before going to Europe, and this black-eyed gypsy is my niece, Frances Carey, who has been initiated into my family since you left America.” With which explanation, Judge Hunter excused himself to give orders to the hostler to saddle and bridle a mount for the young gentleman’s use.

Mr. Neville, after extending his hand to each of the girls, let his eyes rest long upon the face of Catherine Hunter. He would never forget the picture: a girl of sixteen summers stood before him, clad in a dark blue travelling suit, a little round hat of the same hue perched jauntily upon a mass of golden hair, which fell in rippling waves below the waist; large hazel eyes looked laughingly out from under long silken lashes; the figure, though slight, was exquisitely moulded; the dainty mouth in its curves of scarlet beauty, now lightly parted, disclosed teeth of pearly whiteness. Apparently unconscious of the gaze riveted upon her, Catherine Hunter shyly remarked:

“ I remember you, Mr. Neville, as the rescuer of a favorite doll, which was being dreadfully torn by a Newfoundland pup six years ago. Do you recall the incident? 55

“As vividly, Miss Catherine, as though it were yesterday, I can see you now as you came running down the avenue, with tearful eyes and floating curls, chasing the mischievous animal, and crying, 6 Stop, Canto ! Naughty dog, you are killing my Annette. O my poor, poor dolly ! ’ 99

“ Your memory, Mr. Neville, requires no prompting. I still have in my possession that same French doll, although her beauty was marred by the ungentle manner in which she was handled that morning so long ago. I prize the doll, because she was presented to my grandmother Hunter by LaFayette on her tenth birthday.”

A carriage drawn by a pair of black horses emerged from behind a clump of tall crepe-myrtle trees that grew a short distance from the house, and stopped in front of the gate. Then a horse, — glossy, with beautifully arched neck, led by a negro boy, — soon followed. Judge Hunter returned, accompanied by his wife. Mrs. Hunter greeted the young man graciously. From his early youth she had admired the handsome boy who now stood before her in his perfect manhood.

“ Robert, my daughter and I are just leaving for New York, where she will enter a young ladies’ finishing school. We must catch the 7 :30 train going north. I expect to be home in less than a week, and hope to see you at Myrwood frequently,” said Judge Hunter. Then, taking leave of his wife and niece, he and Neville went down the steps together.

Catherine said good-by to her mother and cousin and soon followed. Hurrying along the winding walk, she stopped to pluck a white rosebud, which she fastened at her belt. Passing through the gateway she joined her father and his companion, who had preceded her, and stood waiting at the open door of the carriage, until she was assisted to the cushioned seat by her father, who then took his place at her side. Mr. Neville closed the door and, mounting his horse, preceded the carriage as it rolled down the avenue, out through the gateway, and on to the public road. Here the ways parted, so, reining in his steed, he bowed to the occupants of the vehicle, and kept uncovered until it disappeared from sight around a sharp curve of the road.

Chapter II

The afternoon was almost spent. The sun, sinking behind the long stretch of pines, darted spears of light across the hazy landscape. Then it disappeared behind a mass of vapory clouds, again to flash forth as if to linger in its downward course, to catch the greeting smile of the queenly moon coming slowly from the east, — regal in silver splendor and beauty, — to reign undisputed over the world of night.

Turning his horse, Robert Neville cantered briskly over the smooth graveled road that led to the home of his boyhood, — the home of his youthful sorrow, made empty by the death of his sweet young mother when he was scarcely ten years old.

His father Horace Neville, crushed and heartbroken over the loss of his wife, developed into a morose, selfish man, seeing few people other than his lifelong friend, Thomas Hunter. Robert was provided with a tutor at home; and when he was fifteen years of age, his father died, leaving him sole heir to a vast estate. Judge Hunter, being chosen guardian, sent him away to college, where he was graduated at the age of nineteen. He was then sent to England, to finish at Oxford. Coming into possession of his fortune at the age of twenty-two, Robert proved himself a careful and judicious financier. Investments in certain European 6 stocks had been almost doubled. And now, after years of study, travel, and financial experience, be was once more at the threshold of his ancestors.

Standing before the polished mahogany door, young Neville pulled the heavy silver knocker, and looked reverently about him. Neville Hall, with its spacious grounds, majestic trees, and beautiful shrubbery, was considered one of the finest old homes in the State, but ever since the death of Horace Neville it had remained unoccupied but for a faithful negro and his wife, who had been in charge.

Footsteps sounded from within; the great door swung open, and the old family butler stood before his master. “ Mars Robert, as shoah as I’se bawn ! ” was his greeting. “ Me an’ Liza is moughty glad ter welcome you home. We’s bin strainin’ our eyes from mawnin’ till night fur de pas’ week, spectin’ you. Marse Jedge Hunter done rode ober ’bout ten days ergo an’ tole us dat you done ’rived in New ’ork.”

Stepping into the spacious hall, with its broad winding stairway and artistically frescoed walls, from which hung the family portraits, the young master experienced a feeling of loneliness such as he had never felt before. A door opened, and a negro woman past middle life came hurriedly toward him.

“ Praise de Lawd fur bringin’ my boy back ter his ole mammy ! ” she exclaimed, with tears streaming down the black, wrinkled face. Then, taking Robert’s hand, she looked up approvingly at the handsome man who, with his six feet of height, towered before her, and said: “ Ez fur back ez I kin ’member none ob de Neville gemmin wuz ez gran’ lookin’ ez you is, young Marse.”

“ Come, mammy, don’t allow yourself to think for a moment that you can satisfy the appetite of your hungry boy on so unstable a diet as flattery. A cup of your coffee, beaten biscuits, and chicken croquettes will suit my fastidious taste better.”

“ Jes’ what I’se gvvine giv yo fur yo supper. Ceptin’ dat instid ob coquets de chicken’s gwine to be friad. No, I ain’ furgot what my boy laik.”

“ You and William forget nothing that tends to promote my comfort. I return after a lapse of six years to find you the same faithful servants.”

With a low courtesy the negro woman left the room, and Robert Neville, escorted by the faithful William, ascended the stairway, crossed the wide hall, and entered his room.

It being the season of the year when the atmosphere becomes chilly as twilight approaches, a light wood fire crackled and blazed in the fireplace. On the mantelpiece were two lighted candles. The massive mahogany bedstead, with its spotless covering, looked as though it had not been disturbed since he slept in it six years ago. His toilet made, young Neville went down to supper, there to find a bountiful feast prepared in honor of his return. On leaving the dining-room he assured his devoted servants that he had not partaken of such a meal since leaving Neville Place.

As it was a beautiful night, he went out for a stroll through the well-kept grounds. The moon, flooding the heavens and earth with mystic splendor, cast fleeting shadows over the white shelled walks that wound in and out among artistically arranged flower beds, from which came the odor of decaying bloom.

“ There is nothing that I have seen in all my travels that surpasses this,” were his thoughts. Returning to the house, he retired immediately to his room, where he seated himself before the glowing fire and took from a table near by a copy of Milton’s “ Paradise Lost.” Opening the book, he listlessly scanned the pages, the letters of which soon became blurred, then at length disappeared, to be replaced by a winsome face, laughing eyes, and sunlit curls.

That the serenity of his mind had been disturbed he was forced to admit.

“ Strange,” he mused, “ that after being lionised in the drawing-rooms of two continents, with beauty and wealth at my feet, I should return to find my adamantine heart awakened by the rare loveliness of a school-miss, — almost within sight of my home.”

Closing the book, young Neville went to the window and looked out upon the sky jewelled with stars. The moon, hanging low in the west, had dropped behind a cloud. A breeze from the south stirred the wax-like leaves of the great magnolia trees that towered majestically in the distance. The mournful notes of a restless bird came from a spreading cedar tree below. Turning, he discovered that the candles were flickering and that the fire burned low. With a feeling of happiness such as he had not before experienced, he retired as the clock struck twelve.

Chapter III

“ Has Robert Neville been over to see you during my absence? ” asked Judge Hunter, addressing his wife, as he seated himself among his books in the library on the morning of his return from the East, where he had placed his daughter in a school for young ladies.

“ Yes, he spent an evening with us,” replied Mrs. Hunter, “ and proved himself very entertaining. Miss Gibbs thinks him the most cultivated gentleman that she has had the privilege of meeting.”

“ I dare say that she has never met more than a half dozen men socially since attaining womanhood,” remarked the Judge, dryly.

“ I think, my dear, that our governess while traveling in Europe with Mrs. Conway before coming South had the opportunity of meeting many cultured people. I fear Frankie’s growing dislike of Miss Gibbs is only your prejudice reflected. We were certainly most fortunate in procuring her as teacher for our daughter and niece.”

“ Admitting, Elizabeth, that Miss Gibbs is highly cultured, I find it a difficult matter to admire this woman from Vermont whose object in migrating South, I dare say, was more to ensnare some rich planter into a matrimonial trap than to instruct the embryo mind ; the finest veneering you know, sometimes conceals im- 10 perfections ; and I certainly feel the time will come, my dear, when you will be forced to see beyond the polish of our talented governess.”

The conversation was here interrupted by footsteps in the hall, the library door was thrown open, and Mr. Neville was ushered into the room by the negro butler.

“Glad to see you, Robert,” said Judge Hunter, rising from his chair. “ My wife and I were speaking of you only a moment ago.”

The young man, bowing to the lady, who he saw was in the act of quitting the room, politely said:

“ I hope, Mrs. Hunter, that my presence here will not hasten your departure, or I may very much regret the intrusion.”

“ Which I will certainly excuse, Mr. Neville, only on these terms, — that you dine with us at Myrwood to-day.”

“ A most hospitable method of punishment I dare say, madam. Shall I surrender, sir P ” appealingly to the Judge.

“ Realizing that a house divided against itself cannot stand I am in duty bound to urge upon you, Robert, the acceptance of my wife’s invitation. You will remain? ”

“ Most willingly.” And Mr. Neville held open the door while the lady passed from the room. Left alone, the gentlemen talked without restraint.

“ Robert,” said the Judge, slowly pushing back the waving chestnut hair from his broad forehead, “ I hear you have been very fortunate in your investments.”

“ Yes, I have been very highly favored, the world might say. I have made some lucky deals. Five years ago, soon after assuming control of my affairs, I bought shares in an Australian gold mine, of which the yearly output yields me a handsome income far beyond my expectations.”

“ Do you intend to settle down at Neville Hall, or be off again on another six years’ tour? ” asked Judge Hunter.

“ Having made arrangements with my father’s only sister, whom I expect next week to take charge of my house, I will remain at home for a time at least.”

66 An ideal plan for a young bachelor, but I hope, Robert, you are not contemplating permanent celibacy.”

“ Which is rather a difficult question to answer, sir, — a problem for future solution. At present I shall discard all thought of any matrimonial alliance, and plunge into my chosen profession, — the practise of law.”

“ Although being aware of your superior ability in that direction, it never occurred to me that, with your estates and varied interests to look after, you would settle down to actual practise.”

“ With my plantation in charge of efficient overseers, my foreign interests in the hands of careful agents, to what better purpose can my time and talents be given than to a profession that I hope may eventually help me into politics. Ever since my return to America I have been facing complex questions, — such as will require careful and conscientious statesmanship to unravel.”

“ Our tottering nation is certainly in dire need of conservative, right-thinking minds, to prevent the overthrow that threatens her. Stupendous problems confront us: the sections are becoming more and more estranged; the fanatics of the North are adding fuel to the flame fast spreading over the South, making fire-eaters of our leaders. What we want is clearsighted men at the head of the nation,” replied Judge Hunter.

Dinner being announced, Judge Hunter and his guest descended to the dining-room, where they were joined by Mrs. Hunter, Miss Gibbs, and Frankie Carey. That the governess was keenly interested in the master of Neville Hall was unmistakably evident; and with cunning tact she prolonged the midday meal, plying Mr. Neville with questions regarding his travels. Ezra the butler had passed the wine, and the small crystal glasses had been emptied of their sparkling contents some fifteen minutes ere the gentlemen could find an opportunity to excuse themselves from the table.

Returning to the library they each lighted a cigar and settled themselves once more for a sociable chat.

“ It occurs to me,” said Mr. Neville, “ that I have seen your niece’s governess, though the time and place I cannot recall. Have you any knowledge of her past life?”

“ She was a protege of a Boston woman, — Mrs. Conway, a schoolmate of my wife. The parents of Miss Gibbs lived among the mountains of Vermont and kept summer boarders. The Conways stopped with them one season and while there Helen attracted the attention of the wealthy Bostonian who made an offer to educate her as teacher. Gaining the consent of her parents the girl was placed in college, graduating several years later. She then traveled through Europe for a year as companion to Mrs. Conway, who, when on their return to America, secured the young lady a position in a New England school. The parents of Miss Gibbs in the meantime moved from Vermont over into Canada. About a year and a half ago my wife received a letter from Mrs. Conway, the contents of which were as just stated by me, also an appeal to Mrs. Hunter that she use her influence in behalf of the New England teacher, who had been ordered South by her physician. Through me a position was secured for her in our town academy. A year ago Miss Gibbs persuaded my wife to employ her as governess in our family. She had been in our employ just six months when, to my very great surprise one day, there was ushered into my private office, a pale gaunt looking fellow with a slight limp, who introduced himself as Mr. Ethan Gibbs. He unhesitatingly told me that his sister, Helen Gibbs, had written him to come South where positions awaited young men of good habits and business ability. While I did not like the expression of the fellow’s black beady eyes, — which were set a trifle too close together in his small head, — I could not help but admire his shrewdness of manner when talking on business matters. As a result of his visit to me that day, a position was secured with Tipton & Co., cotton shippers, where my influence placed him on a good salary.”

44 Your story,” said Mr. Neville, 44 removes the web that entangled my memory. I now recall a laughable incident of my college days. With your permission I’ll relate it.”

Chapter IV

44 During one of the short vacations I was invited to spend a few days at the home of a favorite classmate, son of a Boston broker. On the morning of my arrival in the city of new fangled isms and notions, my friend Bertram Conway met me at the station. Escorting me to his carriage in waiting, he was just in the act of seating himself at my side when our attention was attracted to a young girl, who came rushing out of the waiting-room as if in quest of some one.

44 Springing from the vehicle, Bertram hastened towards her, whereupon the look of uneasiness vanished like magic from the girl’s pretty face. Coming up to where she was standing, he handed her a purse from his pocket, there was an exchange of words and soon he returned, took his place at my side, and apologized for his abrupt departure. As we drove along I wondered who the girl might be, when finally, my curiosity getting the better of me, I asked who she was; his answer much to my surprise was :

44 4 Sister Helen.’

44 4 It was certainly my impression, Bertram, that you were an only child,’ replied I, 4 never having heard you speak of a sister.’ Seeming not to hear my remark, he laughingly continued,

44 4 At my mother’s request I escorted Helen to the 16 depot this morning, and was commissioned to buy her a ticket to a certain town in Vermont. I had just secured the ticket from the agent, when, hearing your train come in, I forgot all about Helen, and had not her timely appearance on the platform reminded me of my carelessness, the poor girl would have been without ticket or purse.’

“ Thinking it strange that a young man would speak so unconcernedly of his sister and leave her unescorted at a public place, I changed the subject. That evening while at dinner Mrs. Conway asked her son if he had introduced Helen to Mr. Neville.

44 Bertram then laughingly related the incident of the morning. After he was through I then ventured this question:

44 4 Your daughter, Mrs. Conway, I presume, expects to spend the summer among the hills of Vermont.’ With a look of astonishment she replied:

44 4 My daughter, Mr. Neville? I don’t understand, but if you refer to the young person whom my son so ungallantly neglected at the station this morning you are laboring under a mistake.’

44 1 looked reproachfully across the table at young Conway who was almost convulsed with laughter. His mother, suspecting I had been misinformed as to the young girl’s identity, asked her son for an explanation. His reply was that, if he were expected to act in the capacity of brother and escort to Helen, the title of sister should henceforth be conferred upon her, that he did not want the public to misconstrue any attention he was forced to show the girl, adding that he was determined his friends should not class him as an admirer of one whom he detested. Mr. Conway smiled approvingly at his son’s sarcastic reply. The subject being dismissed, the girl’s name was not again mentioned during my stay at the Conway home.

“ Accidentally meeting Bertram Conway at Naples some weeks prior to my sailing for America, he informed me of his mother’s death, which had occurred more than a year previous. I then jokingly asked about the protege. He told me that she had gone South where he believed she had procured a position as teacher in some city school, that as neither he nor his father liked the girl, all knowledge of her had been completely obliterated since his mother’s death.”

Relighting a partially consumed cigar, Robert Neville’s dark eyes followed the curling smoke, as it slowly formed in blue rings above his well-poised head. The recital of the story awakened slumbering memories of college days forever gone, yet ever present, — days wherein the seed of knowledge is sown and the new life of the boy slowly develops under the guidance of the guardian spirit of the master mind. Silence fell between the two men, broken at length by the judge, who began :

“ Robert, since you have expressed a desire to enter the legal profession, how would you like to become a member of my firm? I find it hard at my time of life to be always prompt at my office in the city.” And Judge Hunter slowly rubbed his hands together.

“ I should consider it a very great privilege to be associated with you, sir,” replied Mr. Neville.

“ When would you like to put on the harness ? ” asked his companion, a twinkle in his eye.

“ Nothing preventing, I will be ready for duty next week,” said Mr. Neville, who a few moments later took leave of his former guardian, and going briskly down the steps, crossed the yard, and opened the gate to find Frankie Carey, with firm grasp on a bridle, stroking the glossy mane of his thoroughbred.

“ You would make a capital trainer, Miss Frankie. Do you ride ? ”

“Yes, sir,” replied the girl. “ Cousin Caddie and I rode every day when the weather would permit; but since she left I don’t care for anything.”

“ Are you so very much in love with your cousin, little girl? ”

“ In love with her ! Why everybody loves my beautiful cousin, Mr. Neville. You, too, will learn to love her when you know her better,” said the child, looking innocently up into the handsome face.

“Have you no other associate, Frankie?”

“ Yes, Roy Banes.”

“ Who is Roy Banes ? ”

“ He is just the best boy in the state, Mr. Neville. His father runs the grist mill two miles down the river. The Baneses are poor people, but Uncle Thomas says they are more honorable than some who own slaves.”

“ Does this boy friend of yours come to Myrwood often? ”

“ He comes as far as the back fence when he knows I am through with my lessons, and he whistles for me ;

then off we go to our play-house, — just over there in that clump of pines east of the road.”

“ How do you manage to entertain a boy, Frankie? ”

“ I would much rather play with a boy any day, Mr. Neville, than a flitty-flutty girl that is afraid of her shadow. Girls, sir, are too weak and frivolous for me to waste time on. Roy Banes says that he is sure that I was intended for a boy but that the stork carried me off before God had placed his tag on me.”

“ Has Roy any knowledge of books ? ” asked Mr. Neville, a smile lurking about the corners of his mouth.

“ I am teaching him how to read, and he is as far as addition in Ray’s Arithmetic ; he can write a little, too. Yesterday he actually wrote my name! ” wound up the child enthusiastically.

“ With such a clever little teacher to instruct him, Roy Banes should become President of the United States.”

“ I am not educating him for President, sir, but for a sailor. Why, he can climb the highest pine tree about here ; and he is teaching me to follow him. If I were just only a boy and could discard this useless toggery that girls are forced to wear, I am sure that I could find as many bird-nests as Roy.”

The tinkling of a bell was heard, and soon a halfgrown deer was rubbing his nose familiarly against the cheek of the girl, who still grasped the bridle of the contented horse.

“ You seem to be fortunate, Miss Frankie, in winning the confidence of man and dumb animals. Where did you capture this beautiful little fawn?”

“ Roy found him in a starving condition two months ago, just a few feet from your gate; he brought him over to me, and I fed him with milk from a spoon two weeks before he learned to drink in the proper way.”

44 He bears a name, I suppose? ”

44 Roy and I thought Lazarus appropriate, as he was found poor and hungry at the gate of a rich man.”

44 Since his adoption he has certainly been nestling in the bosom of plenty,” said Mr. Neville, as he took the bridle from the chubby hands and sprang into the saddle.

44 Oh, I almost forgot to show you this,” cried Frankie, taking from her white apron pocket an envelope. 44 Uncle Thomas brought it to me yesterday from Caddie, and in it is something real nice about you.” And the little chatterbox clapped her hands, a sparkling light in her black eyes.