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CHAPTER XXV. The Captain and Mr. Tom
Captain Asher was standing at the door of the tollhouse when he saw Mr.
Easterfield approaching. He recognized him, although he had had but one
brief interview with him one day at the toll-gate some time before. Mr.
Easterfield was a man absorbed in business, and the first summer Mrs.
Easterfield was at Broadstone he was in Europe engaged in large and
important affairs, and had not been at the summer home at all. And so
far this summer, he had been there but once before, and then for only a
couple of days. Now, as the captain saw the gentleman coming toward the
toll-gate he had no reason for supposing that he would not go through
it. Nevertheless, his mind was disturbed. Any one coming from Broadstone
disturbed his mind. He had not quite decided whether or not to ask any
questions concerning the late members of his household, when the
horseman stopped at the gate, and handed him the toll.
"Good morning, captain," said Mr. Easterfield cheerily, for he had heard
much in praise of the toll-gate keeper from his wife.
"Good morning, Mr. Easterfield," said the captain gravely.
"I am glad I do not have to introduce myself," said Mr. Easterfield,
"for I am only going through your gate as far as that tree to tie my
horse. Then, if convenient to you, I should like to have a little talk
with you."
The captain's mind, which had been relieved when Mr. Easterfield paid
his toll, now sank again. But he could not say a talk would be
inconvenient. "If I had known that you were not going on," he said, "you
need not have paid."
"Like most people in this life," said Mr. Easterfield, "I pay for what I
have already done, and not for what I am going to do. And now have you
leisure, sir, for a short conversation?"
The captain looked very glum. He felt not the slightest desire now to
ask questions, and still less desire to be interrogated. However, he was
not afraid of anything any one might say to him; and if a certain
subject was broached, he had something to say himself.
"Yes," said he; "do you prefer indoors or out of doors?"
"Out of doors, if it suits," replied the visitor, "for I would like to
take a smoke."
"I am with you there," said the captain, as he led the way to the little
arbor.
Here Mr. Easterfield lighted a cigar, and the captain a pipe.
"Now, sir," said the latter, when the tobacco in his bowl was in a
satisfactory glow, "what is it you want to talk about?" He spoke as if
he were behind entrenchments, and ready for an attack.
"We have two of your guests with us," answered Mr. Easterfield,
"Professor Lancaster, and your niece."
"Oh," said the captain, evidently relieved. "I thought perhaps you had
come to ask questions about some reports you may have heard in regard to
me."
"Not at all, not at all," said Mr. Easterfield. "I would not think of
mentioning your private affairs, about which I have not the slightest
right or wish to speak. But as we have apparently appropriated two of
your young people, I think, and Mrs. Easterfield agrees with me, that it
is but right you should be informed as to their health, and what they
are doing."
The captain puffed vigorously. "When is Dick Lancaster coming back" he
asked.
"I can't say anything about that," replied Mr. Easterfield, "for I am
not master of ceremonies. We would like to keep him as long as we can,
but, of course, your claims must be considered."
"I should think so," remarked the captain.
"Professor Lancaster is a remarkably fine young man," said the other,
"and as he is a friend of yours, and as I should like him to be a friend
of mine, it would give me pleasure to talk to you more about him. But I
may as well confess that my real object in coming here is to talk about
your niece. Of course, as I said before, it might appear that I have no
right to meddle with your family affairs, but in this case I certainly
think I am justified; for, as Mrs. Easterfield invited the young lady to
leave you and to come to her, and as all that has happened to her has
happened at our house, and in consequence of that invitation, I think
that you, as her nearest accessible relative, should be told of what has
occurred."
The captain made no answer, but gazed steadily into the face of the
speaker.
"Therefore," continued Mr. Easterfield, "I will simply state that my
wife and I have very good reason to believe that your niece is about to
engage herself in marriage; and I will only add that we are very sorry,
indeed, that this should have occurred under our roof."
A sudden and curious change came over the face of the captain; a light
sparkled in his eye, and a faint flush, as if of pleasure, was visible
under his swarthy skin. He leaned toward his companion.
"Is it Dick Lancaster?" he asked quickly.
Mr. Easterfield answered gravely: "I wish it were, but I am very sorry
to say it is not."
The light went out of the captain's eye. He leaned back on his bench and
the little flush in his cheeks was succeeded by a somber coldness. "Very
good," said he; "I don't want to hear anything more about it, and, what
is more, it would not be right for you to tell me, even if I did want to
know. It is none of my business."
"Now, really, Captain Asher," began Mr. Easterfield.
"No, sir," the captain interrupted. "It is none of my business, and I
don't want to hear anything about it. And now, sir, I would like to tell
you something. It is something I thought you came here to ask about, and
I did not like it, but now I want to tell you of my own free will, in
confidence. That is to say, I don't want you to speak of it to anybody
in your house. I suppose you have heard something about my intending to
marry a woman in town?"
"Yes," said Mr. Easterfield, "I can not deny that I have, but I
considered it was entirely your own affair, and I had not--"
"Of course," interrupted the captain, "and I want to tell you--but I
don't want my niece to hear it as coming from me--that that whole thing
is a most abominable lie! That woman has been trying to make people
believe I am going to marry her, and she has made a good many believe
it, but I would rather cut my throat than marry her. But I have told her
what I think of her in a way she can not mistake. And that ends her! I
tell you this, Mr. Easterfield, because I believe you are a good man,
and you certainly seem to be a friendly man, and I would like you to
know it. I would have liked very much to tell everybody, especially my
own flesh and blood, but now I assure you, sir, I am too proud to have
her know it through me. Let her go on and marry anybody she pleases, and
let her think anything she pleases about me. She has been satisfied with
her own opinion of me without giving me a chance to explain to her, or
to tell her the truth, and now she can stay satisfied with it until
somebody else sets her straight."
"But this is very hard, captain," said Mr. Easterfield; "hard on you,
hard on her, and hard on all of us, I may say."
The captain made no answer to these words, and did not appear to hear
them. "I tell you, Mr. Easterfield," he said presently, "that I did not
know until now how much I cared for that girl. I don't mind saying this
to you because you come to me like a friend, and I believe in you. Yes,
sir, I did not know how much I cared for her, and it is pretty hard on
me to find out how little she cares for me."
"You are wrong there," said Mr. Easterfield. "My wife tells me that Miss
Asher has frequently talked to her about you and her life here, and it
is certain she has--"
"Oh, that does not make any difference," interrupted the captain. "I am
talking about things as they are now. It was all very well as long as
things seemed to be going right, but I believe in people who stand by
you when things seem to be going wrong, and who keep on standing by you
until they know how they are going, and that is exactly what she did not
do. Now, there was Dick Lancaster; he came to me and asked me squarely
about that affair. To be sure, I cut him off short, for it angered me to
think that he, or anybody else, should have such an idea of me, and,
besides, it was none of his business. But it should have been her
business; she ought to have made it her business; and, even if the thing
had stood differently, I would have told her exactly how it did stand;
and then she could have said to me what she thought about it, and what
she was going to do. But instead of that, she just made up her mind
about me, and away went everything. Yes, sir, everything. I can't tell
you the plans I had made for her and for myself, and, I may say, for
Dick Lancaster. If it suited her, I wanted her to marry him, and if it
suited her I wanted to go and live with them in his college town, or
any other place they might want to go. Again and again, after I knew
Dick, have I gone over this thing and planned it out this way, and that
way, but always with us three in the middle of everything. Do you see
that?" continued the captain after a slight pause, as he drew from his
pocket a dainty little pearl paper-cutter. "That belongs to her. She
used to sit out here, and cut the leaves of books as she read them. I
can see her little hand now as it went sliding along the edges of the
pages. When she went away she left it on the bench, and I took it. And
I've kept it in my pocket to take out when I sit here, and cut books
with it when I have 'em. I haven't many books that ain't cut, but I've
sat here and cut 'em till there wasn't any left. And then I cut a lot of
old volumes of Coast Survey Reports. It is a foolish thing for an old
man to do, but then--but then--well, you see, I did it."
There was a choke in the captain's voice as he leaned over to put the
paper-cutter in his pocket and to pick up his pipe, which he had laid on
the bench beside him. Mr. Easterfield was touched and surprised. He
would not have supposed the captain to be a man of such tender
sentiment. And he took him at once to his heart. "It is a shame," his
thoughts ran, "for this man to be separated from the niece he so loves.
She is a cold-hearted girl, or she does not understand him. It must not
be."
Had he been a woman he would have said all this, but, being a man, he
found it difficult to break the silence which followed the captain's
last words. He did not know what to say, although he had no hesitation
in making up his mind what he was going to do about it all. He arose.
"Captain Asher," he said, "I have now told you what I thought you should
know, and I must take my departure. I would not presume for a moment to
offer you any advice in regard to your family affairs, but there is one
thing Mrs. Easterfield and I will interfere with, if we can, for we feel
that we have a right to do it, and that is any definite and immediate
engagement of your niece. If she should promise herself in marriage at
our house we shall feel that we are responsible for it, and that, in
fact, we brought it about. Whether the match shall seem desirable to you
or not, we do not wish to be answerable for it."
"Oh, I need not be counted in at all," said the captain, who had
recovered his composure. "It is her own affair. I suppose it was the
news of her father's intended marriage that put her in such a hurry."
"You are right," said Mr. Easterfield.
"Just like her" the captain exclaimed. "And I don't blame her. I'm with
her there"
When Mr. Tom reached Broadstone he dismounted at the stable, and walked
to the house. Nobody was to be seen on the grounds. It was a warm
afternoon when those whose hearts were undisturbed by the turmoils of
love were apt to be napping, and those who were in the tumultuous state
of mind referred to, preferred to separate themselves from each other
and the rest of the world until the cause of their inquietude should
consider the heat of the summer day as sufficiently mitigated for her to
appear again among her fellow beings.
Mr. Easterfield did not care to meet any of his guests, and hoped to
find his wife in her room, that he might report, and consult. But, as he
approached the house, he saw at an upper window a female head. It stayed
there just long enough for him to see that it was Olive's head; then it
disappeared. When he reached the hall door there stood Olive.
Mr. Tom was a little disappointed. He wanted to see his wife
immediately, and then to see Olive. But he could not say so.
"Well," said the girl, coming down the steps, "it looks as if we had
arranged to meet. But although we didn't, let's take a little walk. I
have something I want to say to you."
Mr. Easterfield turned, and walked away from the house. He was a
masterful man, and did not like to have his plans interfered with.
Therefore he made a dash, and had the first word. "Miss Asher," said he,
"I am glad to hear anything you have to say, but first you must really
listen to me."
Olive looked at him with surprise. She also was a masterful person, and
not accustomed to be treated in this way. But he gave her no chance.
"Miss Asher," said he, "I have come to you to speak for one of your
lovers, the truest, best lover you ever had, and I believe, ever will
have."
Olive looked at him steadfastly, and her face grew hard. "Mr.
Easterfield," she said, "this will not do. I have told you I will not
have it. Mrs. Easterfield and you have been very good and kind, and I
have told you everything, but you do not seem to remember one thing I
have said. I will not have anybody forced upon me; no matter if he
happens to be an angel from heaven, or no matter how much better he may
be than anybody else on earth. I have my reasons for this determination.
They are good reasons, and, above all, they are my reasons. I don't want
you to think me rude, but if you persist in forcing that gentleman upon
my attention, I shall have to request that the whole subject be dropped
between us."
"Who in the name of common sense do you think I am talking about?"
exclaimed Mr. Tom. "Do you think I refer to Mr. Lancaster?"
"I do," she said. "You know you would not come to plead the cause of any
one of the others."
He looked down at her half doubtfully, wondering a little how she would
take what he was going to say. "You are mistaken," he said quietly. "I
have nothing whatever to say about Mr. Lancaster. The lover I speak of
is your uncle."
Then her face turned red. "Why do you use that expression? Did he send
you to say it?"
"Not at all. I came of my own free will. I went to see Captain Asher
immediately after I left you. Perhaps you are thinking that I have no
right to intrude in your family affairs, but I do not mind your thinking
that. I had a long talk with your uncle. I found that the uppermost
sentiment of his soul was his love for you. You had come into his life
like the break of day. Every little thing you had owned or touched was
dear to him because it had been yours, or you had used it. All his plans
in life had been remade in reference to you."
They had stopped and were standing facing each other. They could not
walk and talk as they were talking.
"Yet, but," she exclaimed, her face pale and her eyes fixed steadfastly
upon him, "but what of that--"
"There are no yets and buts," he exclaimed, half angry with her that she
hesitated. "I know what you were going to say, but that woman you have
heard of is nothing to him. He hates her worse than you hate her. She
has imposed upon you; how I know not; but she is an impostor."
At this instant she seized him by the arm. "Mr. Easterfield," she cried,
and as she spoke the tears were running down her cheeks, "please let me
have a carriage--something covered! I would go on my wheel, for that
would be quicker, but I don't want anybody to speak to me or see me!
Will you have it brought to the back door, Mr. Easterfield, please? I
will run to the house, and be waiting when it comes."
She did not wait for him to answer. He did not ask her where she was
going. He knew very well. She ran to the house, and he hurried to the
stable.
Having given his orders, Mr. Tom went in search of his wife. The moment
had arrived when it was absolutely necessary to let her know what was
going on.
He found her in her own room. "Where on earth have you been?" she
exclaimed. "I have been looking everywhere for you."
In as few words as possible he told her where he had been, and what he
had done.
"And where are you going now?" she asked.
"I am going to change my coat," said the good Mr. Tom. "After my ride
to the toll-gate and back this jacket is too dusty for me to drive with
her."
"Drive with her" exclaimed Mrs. Easterfield. "It will be very well for
you to get rid of some of that dust, but when the carriage comes I will
drive with Olive to see her uncle."
And thus it happened that Mr. Tom stayed at home with the house party
while the close carriage, containing his wife and that dear girl, Olive
Asher, rolled swiftly southward over the smooth turnpike road.
Read next: Chapter 26. A Stop At The Toll-Gate
Read previous: Chapter 24. Mr. Tom Arrives At Broadstone
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