A Maid of the Kentucky Hills Part 20

"Because m'sieu has not ze right to as'."

I felt rebuked. Knowing as little of me and of my feelings for the Dryad as he did, he was right. Should I tell him more? My words would be safe with this gentle old man.

"Suppose I love the girl, Father John? Would I not then have the right to know everything about her parentage?"

A pale smile pa.s.sed over his thin lips.

"M'sieu--jokes wiz me. You, ze gen'leman, ze areest'crat--to love ze little wil' ma'm'selle? _Je crois que non!_"

"It may seem incredible to you, but I do love her. I feel I can trust you with the secret, for even she does not know it yet. Believe me, I beg you. I am very much in earnest."

The doubting look faded from the priest's face, to be succeeded by one of amazement.

"Probably you do not understand this," I hastened to add; "and I should not blame you. But you, in holy orders from young manhood, with your mind and time engrossed in spiritual things, have no intimate knowledge of the powerful call of man to woman, and woman to man. It has come to me unexpectedly, swiftly, surely; here in the wilderness. In the city it pa.s.sed me by. But I truly love the little wild ma'm'selle. Listen to my plan. I intend to take her far along the road to education and refinement; I intend to develop the great good which lurks smothered in her mind and soul; then, if she will, I shall marry her. That is my reason for asking you to tell me of that man."

Father John was convinced that I spoke the truth. I could see it before he replied.

"Ze--ze _aieul_, ze _aieule_; has m'sieu tol' zem?"

I stared at him bewilderedly.

"Ze madame an' ze m'sieu she live wiz!" he burst out, desperately. "How call you zem?"

"Granny and Gran'fer--her grandparents!" I exclaimed.

"_Bien!..._ Well zen?"

"I have not told them. I have not told Lessie. I did not know it myself until last night."

"_Soit._ But ze secret, m'sieu, is zeirs."

"Is not the girl concerned, my good sir?" I demanded.

"Celeste?"

"Celeste!"

"Ze wil' ma'm'selle you call Lessie. I chris'en 'er myself, m'sieu; her name Celeste."

"And these boors have corrupted it to Lessie!" I almost shouted.

"Zey couldn't 'member Celeste," smiled Father John.

For a time I was silent, gazing at that vision in my mind which bore the sweet name of Celeste instead of the meaningless one of Lessie.

"Has she, then, no rights in the matter?" I persisted, and at the words I knew my voice had changed. Father John's candid and matter-of-fact revelation had filled me all up, somehow. I am aware there was no good reason why this should be, but people deeply in love have a constant abhorrence of anything and everything remotely bordering on reason.

"Should she, m'sieu, seek ze inf'mation, I sink I should tell 'er."

Sweetly grave and courteous were the words, and even in my impatience I recognized their justness.

"Very well, father. But I must ask you another question which I trust you can answer without offense to your conscience. Was Lessie's--was Celeste's father a man of learning; a man who moved along the higher walks of life, or was he simply a countryman?"

Only for a moment he hesitated.

"He was ze gran' gen'leman in manner--ze scholar--ze sinker. His heart was black!"

"It must have been," I breathed, as I rose.

My host again followed me to the low stone step at the porch entrance, protesting against my departure and begging me to stay for dinner, which came at noon. I told him I would come again, and I meant it.

"You have been very kind," I said, in farewell, "and I want to thank you for the things you told me. In time Celeste will come with her demands, trust me for that."

"Vair well, m'sieu!" he cried, twisting his face into a maze of goodhumored wrinkles.

At the gate I turned and waved to him again, sweeping the premises with my eyes as I did so for a sign of Beryl Drane.

That most peculiar young woman was nowhere visible.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

IN WHICH I ENTERTAIN SERIOUSLY A CHIVALROUS NOTION TO MY GREAT DETRIMENT

"A, B, C, D, E, F,--H?"

We sat side by side on the edge of the porch, with our feet on the low stone step. For fifteen minutes I had been drilling Celeste in the alphabet.

But little explanation is necessary to make clear my position in the hostile camp. To-day is Sunday. When I first arose I began planning a way to reach Celeste--Lessie no longer for me!--without any unpleasant attending circ.u.mstances. I had recently been a.s.sured by the parish priest that Granny was "a vair releegious woman," and it was upon this fact that I presently laid my schemes. It was probable that Granny attended ma.s.s twice on Sunday; beyond doubt she went once. Early ma.s.s was over by the time my idea began to crystalize, but the chances were that Granny would go to the later services, because there was a deal of housework to be done at the beginning of each day. Then Granny's large body moved slowly, and the road to Hebron was long. I was vastly comforted when I reached this conclusion, and about ten o'clock I armed myself with primer and copybook and hit the trail for heaven.

I wish the reader--gentle or otherwise--could have taken that trip with me, and felt as I did. I wish everybody in the world could feel, all the time, as I did on that leisurely walk to Lizard Point. There would be no more sin or sorrow, my brothers! It was my first pilgrimage to the shrine of my recognized affection, and my feet trod not upon the good earth, but upon separate little pillows of compressed air. The day left nothing for the most critical to wish for. It was a great, perfumed bloom of light and color, glowing like a jewel in the Master's hand. And in the midst of all this perfection I was the one man seeking the one woman.

Reaching the bridge, I skulked about in the woods like a wild Indian, viewing the house with gradually increasing impatience. But I was rewarded in what my watch declared to be a very few minutes. Granny's ample shape bustled out upon the porch, and she came waddling down the path like an over-fattened goose. She had on her Sunday fixin's; a s.h.i.+ny bombazine black dress and a tiny black bonnet which looked small indeed atop her big head. A palm leaf fan in one hand, a rosary and a handkerchief in the other; thus did S'firy sally forth that morning, while I stood hidden in the shade and grinned, tickled as any schoolboy would be who sees a guard desert a watermelon patch. I could hear her puffing as she reached the road and took up her march south--poor old woman! A long, hot time lay before her, going and coming, and I was convinced she deserved the blessing she hoped to receive.

So that is the way I crept into the hostile lines this morning and began teaching the little wild ma'm'selle.

She was surprised but glad when she saw me. You may be sure I searched her face anxiously, and her welcoming smile and warm, strong handclasp set my heart a-throbbing. I told her at once what I had come for, and asked how long Granny would be away. Three hours, at least, I learned.

She was ready and eager to begin her lessons. I inquired about Gran'fer, too, as we sat down together on the porch's edge, and heard that the dinner had been left in his charge, and he was consequently on duty in the kitchen, whence he would scarcely dare emerge until relief came. The fire was to be kept up, and certain vessels holding cooking vegetables were to be kept full of water. Gran'fer would hardly dare run the risk of permitting the beans or potatoes to scorch, and the chance for a happy three hours looked good indeed.

Celeste wore a white s.h.i.+rt waist, brown skirt, leather belt--and _slippers_! I could barely credit the last fact when my eyes noted it.

Where on earth did she get slippers which b.u.t.toned across the instep with a strap? She had on black stockings (and right here I want to say, parenthetically, that I think black hose the most becoming color a woman can wear) and altogether presented a far more civilized appearance than she had ever done before. I placed the primer upon her knees, and while she held it open I began teaching her the letters, using my forefinger as an index. Her sunny head bent eagerly to the task, and looking at her face I saw each freckle had become a tiny island in a sea of crimson.

She was blus.h.i.+ng hotly, probably from the simple fact that she had at last started upon that unknown road which would lead her up and out of the gloomy valley of ignorance where she had always dwelt. I know an answering color came to my cheeks, for they began to burn. Had I been sure Gran'fer would remain faithful to his vegetables I would have told her that moment, for never had mortal woman seemed so lovely and alluring, and never had my heart hammered and pounded so loudly on the stubborn door of my will. I realized that my resolve to hold my tongue until she had become tutored in some degree was an idiotic determination, and that I would prove it so the first time I could catch Celeste where we would be safe from interruption.

Through the twenty-six capitals we went again and again. Then I took the book and asked her to say the alphabet. She fell down on G, but if every failure was accompanied by the doubting, anxious, piteous, altogether captivating expression which distinguished this one, no culprit would ever hear a word of censure.