Elsie at Nantucket

They gazed upon her with awe for a moment; then Rosie said, "You don't look so very old, Aunt Wealthy; not older than some ladies of eighty that I've seen."

"Perhaps not older than I did when I was only eighty, my dear; but I am glad to know that I am a good deal nearer home now than I was then," Miss Stanhope responded, her face growing bright with joyous anticipation.

"Are you really glad to know you must die before very long?" asked Max, in wonder and surprise.

"Wouldn't it be strange if I were not?" she asked; "heaven is my home.

"'There my best friends, my kindred dwell,

There God my Saviour reigns.'

"I live in daily, hourly longing expectation of the call."

"And yet you are not weary of life? you are happy here, are you not, dear Aunt Wealthy?" asked Mrs. Keith.

"Yes, Marcia; I am happy among my kind relatives and friends; and entirely willing to stay till the Master sees fit to call me home, for I know that His will is always best. Oh, the sweet peace and joy of trusting in Him and leaving all to His care and direction! Who that has experienced it could ever again want to choose for him or herself?"

"And you have been long in His service, Aunt Wealthy?" Mr. Dinsmore said, half in assertion, half inquiringly.

"Since I was ten years old, Horace; and that is ninety years; and let me bear testimony now, before you all, that I have ever found Him faithful to His promises, and His service growing constantly sweeter and sweeter. And so it shall be to all eternity. 'My soul doth magnify the Lord, and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour.'"

Then turning to Mrs. Keith, "How is it with you, Marcia?" she asked; "you have attained to your four-score years, and have been in the service since early childhood. What have you to say for your Master now?"

"Just what you have said, dear aunt; never have I had cause to repent of choosing His service; it has been a blessed service to me, full of joy and consolation – joy that even abounds more and more as I draw nearer and nearer to my journey's end.

"I know it is the same with my husband," she added, giving him a look of wifely affection; "and I doubt not with my cousins – Horace, Rose, Elsie – with all here present who have had experience as soldiers and servants of Jesus Christ."

"In that you are entirely right, Marcia," responded Mr. Dinsmore; "I can speak for myself, my wife, and daughter."

Both ladies gave an unqualified confirmation of his words, while their happy countenances testified to the truth of the assertion.

"And, Milly dear, you and your husband, your brothers and sisters, can all say the same," remarked Miss Stanhope, laying her withered hand affectionately upon Mrs. Landreth's arm as she sat in a low seat by her side.

"We can indeed," Mildred said, with feeling. "What blessed people we are! all knowing and loving the dear Master, and looking forward to an eternity of bliss together at His right hand."

The interview between the aged saint and her long-absent relatives was continued for a few moments more; then she dismissed them, with the remark that doubtless they would all like to retire to their rooms for a little, and she must take a short rest in order to be fresh for the evening, when she hoped they would all gather about her again.

"I want you all to feel at home and to enjoy yourselves as much as you can," she said, in conclusion. "Play about the grounds, children, whenever you like."

Her cottage stood between the houses of the Duncans and Allisons; the grounds of all three were extensive, highly cultivated, and adorned with beautiful trees, shrubbery, and flowers, and there were no separating fences or hedges, so that they seemed to form one large park or garden.

Rosie and Walter Travilla, and the young Raymonds were delighted with the permission to roam at will about these lovely grounds, and hastened to avail themselves of it as soon as the removal of the dust of travel and a change of attire rendered them fit.

They found a Dutch gardener busied here and there, and presently opened a conversation with him, quite winning his heart by unstinted praises of the beauty of his plants and flowers.

"It must be a great deal of work to keep those large gardens in such perfect order," remarked Rose.

"Dat it ish, miss," he said; "but I vorks pretty hard mineself, and my son Shakey, he gifs me von leetle lift ven he ton't pees too much in school."

"Do you live here?" asked little Grace.

"Here in dis garten? no, miss; I lifs oud boud t'ree mile in de country."

"That's a long walk for you, isn't it?" said Lulu.

"Nein; I don't valks, miss; ven I ish god dings to pring – abbles or botatoes or some dings else – I say to mine Shakey, 'Just hitch de harness on de horse and hang him to de stable door;' or if I got nodings to pring I tells de poy, 'Hitch him up a horseback;' den I comes in to mine vork and I tash! I don't hafs to valk – nod a shtep."

"How funny he talks," whispered Grace to Lulu; "I can hardly understand him."

"It's because he's Dutch," returned Lulu, in the same low tone. "But I can tell almost all he says. His son's name must be Jakey; the short for Jacob."

"What is your name?" asked Max.

"Hencle – Shon Hencle. I dinks you all pees come to see Miss Stanhope pe von huntred years olt; ishn't you?"

"Yes," said Rosie. "It seems very wonderful to think that she has lived so long."

The children, weary with their journey, were sent to bed early that night. Lulu and Grace found they were to sleep together in a small room opening into a larger one, where two beds had been placed for the time to meet the unusual demand for sleeping quarters. These were to be occupied by Grandma Elsie, Violet, Rosie, and Walter.

Timid little Grace heard, with great satisfaction, that all these were to be so near; and Lulu, though not at all cowardly, was well pleased with the arrangement. Yet she little thought how severely her courage was to be tested that night.

She and Grace had scarcely laid their heads upon their pillows ere they fell into profound slumber. Lulu did not know how long she had slept, but all was darkness and silence within and without the house, when something, she could not have told what, suddenly roused her completely.

She lay still, trying to recall the events of the past day and remember where she was; and just as she succeeded in doing so a strange sound, as of restless movements and the clanking of chains, came from beneath the bed.

Her heart seemed to stand still with fear; she had never before, in all her short life, felt so terrified and helpless.

"What can it be?" she asked herself. "An escaped criminal – a murderer – or a maniac from an insane asylum, I suppose; for who else would wear a clanking chain? and what can he want here but to kill Gracie and me? I suppose he got in the house before they shut the doors for the night, and hid under the bed till everybody should be fast asleep, meaning to begin then to murder and rob. Oh, I do wish I'd looked under the bed while all the gentlemen were about to catch him and keep him from hurting us! But now what shall I do? If I try to get out of the bed, he'll catch hold of my foot and kill me before anybody can come; and if I scream for help, he'll do the same. The best plan is to lie as quiet as I can, so he'll think I'm still asleep; for maybe he only means to rob, and not murder, if nobody wakes up to see what he's about and tell of him. Oh, I do hope Gracie won't wake! for she could never help screaming; and then he'd jump out and kill us both."

So with heroic courage she lay there, perfectly quiet and hardly moving a muscle for what seemed to her an age of suffering, every moment expecting the creature under the bed to spring out upon her, and in constant fear that Grace would awake and precipitate the calamity by a scream of affright.

All was quiet again for some time, she lying there, straining her ears for a repetition of the dreaded sounds; then, as they came again louder than before, she had great difficulty in restraining herself from springing from the bed and shrieking aloud, in a paroxysm of panic terror.

But she did control herself, lay perfectly still, and allowed not the slightest sound to escape her lips.

That last clanking noise had awakened Elsie, and she too now lay wide awake, silent and still, while intently listening for a repetition of it. She hardly knew whence the sound had come, or what it was; but when repeated, as it was in a moment or two, she was satisfied that it issued from the room where Lulu and Grace were, and her conjectures in regard to its origin coincided with Lulu's.

She, too, was greatly alarmed, but did not lose her presence of mind. Hoping the little girls were still asleep, and judging from the silence that they were, she lay for a few minutes without moving, indeed scarcely breathing, while she tried to decide upon the wisest course to pursue, asking guidance and help from on high, as she always did in every emergency.

Her resolution was quickly taken; slipping softly out of bed, she stole noiselessly from the room and into another, on the opposite side of the hall, occupied by Edward and Zoe.

"Edward," she said, speaking in a whisper close to his ear, "wake, my son; I am in need of help."

"What is it, mother?" he asked, starting up.

"Softly," she whispered; "make no noise, but come with me. Somebody or something is in the room where Lulu and Gracie sleep. I distinctly heard the clanking of a chain."

"Mother!" he cried, but hardly above his breath, "an escaped lunatic, probably! Stay here and let me encounter him alone. I have loaded pistols – "