Her Mother's Secret Part 46

The sun was up and s.h.i.+ning from a clear, blue sky upon the snow-covered earth, and the forest of pine beyond, and the grove of cedars, spruce, firs and other evergreens near the house.

Le closed the window at length, and sat down to wait for the coming of Roland Bayard.

Old Luke came in with oak logs to replenish the fire.

"Mornin', young marster! Gettin' colder, ain't it? Shouldn't wonder ef de crik didn't froze ober 'fore night," he said, as he laid the logs carefully on the blazing brands.

Le a.s.sented, in a low voice, scarcely knowing what had been said to him, or what he said.

The man retired, and was succeeded by the woman, Martha, who came in to set the table for her master's breakfast.

"Mornin', Ma.r.s.e Le! Hope as yer feel better'n yer did las' night, dough, Lor' knows, now I look at yer, yer doan look any better; yer looks wuss.

'Deed, Ma.r.s.e Le, yer ought to 'sult a doctor," she said, as she opened the tablecloth and flirted it out to spread over the table, keeping her eyes on the young master all the time.

"I am not ill, Martha," he said.

"Ain't yer, now, Ma.r.s.e Le? Well, den, yer's gwine to be, dat's all," was the encouraging comment.

She brought in the breakfast, and spread it temptingly out on the table, a thankless task, for, as before, Le could not be persuaded to choke himself by attempting to swallow a morsel of solid food; but he drank cup after cup full of strong coffee, as fast as the woman could pour it out.

"Kill yerself! 'Deed you will, Ma.r.s.e Le! Drinkin' so much strong coffee an' a-puckerin' ob yer stummick up, 'stead o' fillin' ob it out wid bread and meat! Kill yerse'f! 'Deed yer will!" said Martha, as at last she cleared the table and left the room.

"Yes, sah! Dere he is in de little parlor!" Le heard her say, as she pa.s.sed through the hall, to some one at the front door.

And in another moment the room door was thrown open, and Roland Bayard appeared.

"Well?" demanded Le, excitedly, as he started up to meet his friend.

"Well, I can't find the sneak! I believe he has cut and run, that's what I believe!" exclaimed Roland, s.n.a.t.c.hing his hat from his head, flinging it angrily on the floor, and throwing himself into a chair.

"What!" cried Le, facing him.

"I say the beat has beat a retreat!"

"What do you mean?" inquired Le.

Then Roland, having recovered his breath, told Le the story of his fruitless adventure at the Calvert House.

"He keeps out of the way on purpose; but he shall not escape me!"

exclaimed Le, drawing his breath hard.

"I only came to report to you and take orders for the next step," said Roland.

"He still retains his room at the Calvert?" inquired Le.

"Oh, yes! And all his effects are there."

"Then, dear boy, go back at once to the Calvert, and stay there until he returns, and then give him my note. Take up your lodgings at the house, if need be, until you discharge your mission," said Le.

"Yes--yes--certainly--with pleasure--but----"

"But what?"

"If you could lend me the loan of a strong pair of boots, or, better still, a good saddle horse, it might help the cause a little," replied Roland, laughingly extending both his feet to exhibit his own battered "Wellingtons."

"What a beast I am!" cried Le, smiting his forehead with his open palm in self-disgust. "You have walked all this distance in my cause, while I have a dozen horses turning to stone for want of exercise in the stables there."

And he s.n.a.t.c.hed up an iron hand bell, that might have served for a country church or a steamboat, and rang it loudly.

Old Luke put in his gray head at the door.

"Saddle Jasper for Mr. Bayard, and bring him around to the door."

"Yes, sah! Yere's two ge'men axing for yer, Ma.r.s.e Le," said the old man.

"Two gentlemen? Who are they? Let them come in," said Le.

And, even as he spoke, two men entered the parlor, and, each laying a hand on the shoulder of the youth, said:

"You are my prisoner! Yield quietly. It will be best."

CHAPTER x.x.xIII

THE ARREST

Leonidas Force and Roland Bayard indignantly threw off the detaining hands, and stared haughtily at their captors.

"Take it easy, young gentlemen, and you shall be treated as such," said old Tom Bowen, a grave, gray-haired, most respectable old man, an elder in the church and county constable for many years.

"'Take it easy!' Take what easy? If it were not for your age and piety, I should think you were drunk or crazy, Mr. Bowen! What is the meaning of all this, anyhow?" demanded Leonidas.

"Oh, don't you see it's all a funny mistake, Force? They have waked up the wrong pa.s.sengers. They are after some other parties. The thieves that stole Tom Grandiere's young horse, I reckon. But, great Neptune! do we look like horse thieves? Say! Who are you wanting, anyhow, you blooming boys?" demanded Roland, in all sincerity.

The two constables sat down, and "Old Bowen," as he was always called, deliberately drew from his capacious pocket a formidable-looking doc.u.ment, which he unfolded, saying:

"I hold here a warrant issued by Abel Force, Esq., of Mondreer, justice of the peace for the county, commanding me to arrest and bring before him the body of Leonidas Force, of Greenbushes, to answer the charge of a breach of the peace by sending a challenge to fight a duel to one Col. Anglesea, at present a resident of this county. You can take my warrant in your own hands and read it with your own eyes, if you wish to do so, young gentleman," said the mild, old officer, handing the verbose doc.u.ment to which he so briefly referred to the mids.h.i.+pman.

Le took it mechanically, and stared at it without reading a line. He was simply amazed at the event, and wondering with all his might how the carefully guarded secret of his sending the challenge to the colonel at the Calvert Hotel could have become known to Squire Force, at Mondreer.

Meanwhile, the old constable was not idle. He drew from that deep receptacle, his riding-coat pocket, a second doc.u.ment, which he unfolded and handed to Roland Bayard, saying:

"There, sir, is a warrant for your arrest upon very much the same sort of charge--a breach of the peace in taking a challenge from Mr. Leonidas Force to Col. Angus Anglesea. You also can read it, if you wish."

"But I never delivered the challenge," said Roland, laughing at what seemed to him to be a solemn farce. "I never got a chance to deliver it.