Elsie's Motherhood Part 26

"Ah, mammy, I'm glad it is you, for I have something to tell you. Yes, I'm quite well, thank you," Elsie answered, then while making a rapid toilet, went on to relate the occurrences of the last few hours, winding up by putting the wounded guest in charge of Aunt Chloe and her husband.

The faithful old creature accepted the trust with evident pride in the confidence reposed in her.

"Dis chile an' Uncle Joe'll take care of him, honey, neber fear," she said, carefully adjusting the folds of her mistress's riding habit.

"I'll nuss him to de best ob my disability, an' de good Lord'll soon make um well, I hope."

"And you and Uncle Joe will be careful not to let any of the other servants know that he's here?"

"Dat we will, darlin', for shuah."

The sun was just peeping above the horizon, as Mr. and Mrs. Travilla drew rein before the main entrance to the Fairview mansion.

Mrs. Leland came out to welcome them. She was looking pale and worn, yet met them with a smile, and words of grateful appreciation of all their kindness, then, with the quick tears springing to her eyes, asked anxiously after her husband's welfare.

"I think he is safe and will do well," Mr. Travilla said. "It seems to be only a flesh wound, and will soon heal with proper treatment and good nursing. I shall go from here to Dr. Barton's; calling for my wife on my return. But first what can I do for you? Ah, I see your door is quite demolished. We must have it replaced with a new and stronger one before night."

"Yes, that is the most pressing need just now," said Mrs. Leland. "Come in and look; there is really no other damage except a few bullet holes in the walls, and these blood-stains on the matting," she said with a slight shudder; "and I am truly thankful to have escaped so well."

They stepped into the hall, (their talk so far had been on the veranda,) and gazed with interest upon the marks of the night's conflict, Mrs.

Leland meanwhile giving a graphic account of it.

A servant was diligently at work cleaning the matting, and had nearly obliterated the stains left by the wounded Ku Klux.

"And you shot him, Mrs. Leland?" Elsie said inquiringly.

"Archie or I, or perhaps both of us," Mrs. Leland answered, leading the way to the parlor.

They sat there a few moments, conversing still upon the same theme.

"You will hardly dare stay here at night now?" Elsie remarked.

"Yes; where else? I should feel very little safer from the Ku Klux in the woods, and the malaria might rob us all of health and even life."

"Come to Ion," said both her visitors in a breath, "you will be most welcome."

"A thousand thanks," she answered with emotion. "I do not doubt my welcome; yet fear to give a clue to my husband's hiding place."

"There might be danger of that," Mr. Travilla said thoughtfully, "but what better, my dear madam, can you do?"

"Stay here and put my trust in the Lord. He will take care of me and my helpless little ones.

"I have been thinking of one of our n.o.ble pioneer women of the West, whose husband was killed by the Indians, leaving her alone in the wilderness with six small children, no white person within several miles.

"Her friends urged her to leave the dangerous spot, but she said, 'No, this farm is all I have for my own and my children's support, and I must stay here. G.o.d will protect and help us.' And he did; the Indians, though they knew she was alone, never attacked her. She lay sometimes all night with a broadax in her hands, ready to defend her babes; but though she could see the savages come into her yard and light their pipes at her brushwood fire, they never approached the house?"

Elsie's eyes kindled with enthusiastic admiration, then filled with tears. "Dear, brave Christian woman! and you will emulate her courage and faith."

"I shall try; the hearts of the Ku Klux of to-day are no less in His hands than those of the Indians of that day or this."

"That is certainly true and he never fails those who put their trust in him," Mr. Travilla said, rising. "Now, wife, I will leave you here while I go for Barton."

"Oh stay a moment, Edward," she exclaimed, "a thought has struck me: it is not usual for you to go for the doctor yourself: might it not excite suspicion? And can you not trust Uncle Joe as your messenger?"

"Your plan is best," he said with a pleased smile. "Let us then hasten home and dispatch him on the errand at once."

Dr. Barton found the wound not dangerous, extracted the ball with little difficulty, and left the patient doing well.

The attack on Fairview and the disappearance of its owner, caused considerable excitement in the neighborhood; there was a good deal of speculation as to what had become of him: some thought it probable that he had hidden in the woods and died there of his wounds; others that he had gone North to stay until the reign of terror should be over.

No one, perhaps, suspected the truth, yet the wrath of the Ku Klux was excited against the Travillas, and the Dinsmores of the Oaks, by the kindness they showed to Leland's wife and children; and threatening notices were sent ordering them to desist from giving aid and comfort to "the carpet-bagger's family."

They however paid no heed to the insolent demand, but exerted themselves to discover who were the men wounded in the raid; for that more than one had been hurt, was evidenced by the b.l.o.o.d.y tracks in and around the house at Fairview.

In this they were not successful; doubtless because the men were from a distance, it being the custom for the organization so to arrange matters that thus they might the more readily escape recognition.

The Ion children were at play in the front veranda one morning shortly after breakfast, when a strange gentleman came riding leisurely up the avenue.

Harold was the first to notice his approach. "Mammy, mammy! see who's tumin! dat one de Kluxes?" he asked, running in affright to Aunt Chloe, who sat in their midst with the babe on her lap.

"Spect not, honey; don't be 'fraid," she said soothingly, putting her arm about the little trembler.

The little girls were dressing their dolls, Eddie and Bruno racing back and forth, in and out, having a grand romp: but at Harold's question, Eddie suddenly stood still, with an imperative, "Down, Bruno! down sir!

be quiet now!" and turned to look at the stranger.

The gentleman, now close at hand, reined in his horse, lifted his hat, and with a winning smile, said "Good morning, my little lads and la.s.ses.

Is your mother in?"

"No, sir, she and papa have gone out riding," replied Eddie, returning the bow and smile.

Elsie laid aside her doll and stepping forward, said with a graceful little courtesy, "Good morning, sir, will you dismount and come in? Papa and mamma will probably be here in a few minutes."

"Ah, ha! um h'm; ah ha! Yes, my little lady, I will do so, thank you,"

returned the gentleman, giving his horse into the care of a servant, summoned by Eddie.

"Will you walk into the drawing-room sir?" Elsie asked.

"No, thank you," he replied seating himself among them, and sending a glance of keen interest from one to another.

One look into the pleasant, genial face, banished Harold's fears, and when the stranger held out his hand, saying, "I am your mamma's cousin, won't you come and sit on my knee?" the child went to him at once; while the others gathered eagerly about.

"Mamma's cousin! then she will be very glad to see you," said Elsie.

"But she never told us about you," observed Eddie.

"Ah ha, ah ha! um h'm! ah ha! But did she ever tell you about any of her mother's kin?"

"No, sir," said Elsie, "I asked her once, and she said she didn't know anything about them; she wished she did."

"Ah ha! ah ha, um h'm! ah ha! Well, she soon will. Child, you look very like a picture of your great-grandmother that hangs in my house in Edinburgh. A bonny la.s.sie she must have been when it was taken."