The Fatal Cord, and The Falcon Rover

Once more they stood breast to breast, with arms entwining.

Why was she so late? What had detained her?

The questions were put with no thought of reproach, only fear as to the answer.

As Pierre had suspected, Jerry Rook had been sitting up late; and, as she suspected, with some idea of watching her. The lighted room was his, and it was he who had extinguished the candle; she had waited after, till he should be well asleep. She had a terrible time of it, both that day and yesterday. Her father had been very angry with her about several things; he had found out that Pierre had been there; he had cross-questioned her, and made her confess it. It was no use denying it, as her father had found his track, and saw the snake that had been shot; and, besides, one of the negroes had heard a man’s voice along with hers among the trees of the orchard. It made it all the worse that she had tried to conceal it, and been found out. Of course she did not say who it was, only a stranger she had never seen before.

“O, Pierre! I told that great lie about you. God forgive me!”

Her father had gone furious; there was something else, too, that made him so – about Alf Brandon, who had come over to see them just after Pierre had gone.

“What was it about Alf Brandon?” asked Pierre, rather calmly, considering that the individual spoken of was a most dangerous rival.

The young girl noticed this, and answered with some pique.

“Oh! nothing much,” she said, relaxing the pressure of her arms. “At least, nothing, I suppose, you would care about.”

“Nay, dear Lena!” he hastily rejoined, noticing the hurt he had unconsciously occasioned, and drawing her back to his breast, “pardon me for the apparent coldness of the question; I only asked it because I wished to tell you that I know all.”

“All what, Pierre?”

“All that occurred between you and Alf Brandon.”

“And who told you?”

“No one. I’m going to make a confession if you’ll promise not to be angry with me.”

“Angry with you, Pierre?”

“Well, then, it was thus: after leaving you yesterday, I came back again, and took stand under cover of the trees, just over the creek there, at the bottom of the garden. Of course, I could see the house, and all in front of it. I got there just as your father was leaving to meet Mr Brandon by the gate, and I not only saw what passed between you two, but heard most of what was said. It was much as I could do to restrain myself from springing across the creek, and laying the fellow at your feet; but I kept back, thinking of the trouble I might get you into, to say nothing of myself, with your father. I own to all this meanness, Lena, without being able to let you know my motive for it. One reason for my returning, was to look again upon you.”

“Oh, Pierre,” said the girl, once more reciprocating the pressure of his embrace, “if I had only known you were there! But, no; perhaps it was better not. I might have done something that would have betrayed us both.”

“True,” he said. “And, from what I know of your father’s designs, I see that we cannot be too cautious. But, promise me, love; promise, before we part, that, no matter what may arise, nor how long it may be before I gain your father’s consent, that you will still keep true to me. Will you promise this?”

“Promise it! How could you doubt me? After six years – more I may say, for I loved you ever since I first knew you, ay, Pierre, when I was only a little bit of a bare-footed girl – after being true all that time, surely you will not doubt me now? Promise it! Anything, Pierre – anything!”

Firmer and faster became the folding of their arms, closer and closer came their lips, till meeting, they remained together in a long, rapturous kiss.

Story 1-Chapter XXI.

The Tree-Cave

A long, rapturous kiss, and a kiss that came nigh betraying them.

Fortunately, it had ended before anyone was near enough to bear witness to it, or blight its sweetness by rude interruption.

The lovers were about taking leave of each other, their arms were once more free, and they were arranging the time and place for another interview, when the quick ear of the young man, attuned to take notice of suspicious sounds, was caught by one that appeared to be of this character.

It was a rustling among the canes that bordered the creek, with now and then their culms crackling together as if something – man or animal – was making way through them.

The sounds proceeded from a point at some distance; but, as the lovers stood listening, they could tell that, whatever made them, was drawing nearer.

And soon they saw that they were not made by an animal, nor yet by a man, but by several men, who, under the clear light of the moon, could be seen approaching the spot.

And it could be seen, too, that they were not coming on openly and boldly, like men bent on an honest errand, but skulking along the edge of the creek, here and there crouching under the cane, whose thin growth only partially concealed them. The noise they made was inadvertent. They were not making more than they could help, and, if there was any talk between them, it must have been in whispers, as no words were heard by the two standing under the tree.

For them it was too late to retreat unobserved.

They might have done so at first; but not now. The skulkers were too near, and any attempt to get away from the spot would expose the lovers under the full light of the moon.

Their only chance to remain undiscovered was to keep within the shadow of the tree.

Not long before, this, too, appeared doubtful; as they now saw that the dark forms advancing along the edge of the stream must pass close to where they stood – so close as to see them in spite of the obscurity.

Who the cautious travellers were, or what their designs, neither had the slightest idea. But it mattered not what. Enough for the lovers to know that they were in danger of being surprised, and under circumstances to cause them chagrin.

What was to be done? The skulkers were coming on. They would soon be under the tree!

The returned gold-seeker had taken the young girl on his arm – partly with the idea of protecting her should any rudeness he attempted, and partly to inspire her with courage.

He was thinking whether it would not be the best for them to step boldly out and show themselves in the open light. It would less expose them to ridicule, though the lateness of the hour – it was now after midnight – would still render them liable to that. A young lady and gentleman – they had markedly this appearance – indulging in a moonlight stroll at nigh one o’clock of the morning, were not likely to escape scandal if seen.

What was to be done?

At this moment a happy thought came up to answer the question. It flashed simultaneously through the minds of both. Both remembered the cavity in the tree; and without a word to one another – both acting under the same impulse – they glided inside, and stood in shadow dark as the dungeon itself!

They had scarce time to compose themselves ere the party of intruders came up, and stopped right under the tree. To their chagrin they saw this. They had hoped that such early travellers might be bent upon some distant journey, and that once past the spot they would be themselves free to continue their affectionate leave-taking.

They soon perceived that this was not to be. The new comers had halted close up to the trunk, directly in front of the cavity, and although enveloped in deep shadow their figures were distinguishable from the deeper shadow that surrounded the two spectators. Either of these could have touched them by stretching forth a hand!

Neither had thoughts of doing this. On the contrary, they stood motionless as marble, both silently striving to keep back their breath.

Six figures there were – six men – several of them carrying implements, at first taken for guns, but which, on more prolonged scrutiny, proved to be spades and shovels. From the way they were manipulating these tools it was evident they intended making use of them, and on the spot!

The occupants of the tree-cave where puzzled by these preparations. For what were they going to dig?

The blood of both ran cold at the thought of its being a grave. And both had it. What else could they have thought? Six men, armed with excavating implements, at that unearthly time of the night!

And a secret grave, too, for the body of some one whom they had murdered! Else why their stealthy movements, and their talking in low tones, scarce louder than a whisper?

Who could they be? And what their purpose?

These were the questions that came before the minds of Pierre Robideau and Lena Rook, only in thought; they dared not interrogate one another even in whispers. They stood silent, watching the development of events.

“Where can the darned thing be?” asked one of the men, stooping down, and apparently searching for something along the grass. “Who of ye remembers the spot?”

“A little farther out, I think,” answered a voice that caused Lena Rook to start, and take hold of Pierre’s hand. “About here. Yes, here it is. I can feel the lumps upon the turf.”