``They was that destitute,'' said Tom, `` 'twas a pity to see 'em.''
``And they be grand folks, ye say?'' said Polly Ann.
``Grand folks, I reckon.And helpless as babes on the Wilderness Trail.They had two niggers--his nigger an' hers--and they was tuckered, too, fer a fact.
``Lawsy!'' exclaimed Polly Ann.``Be still, honey!''
Taking a piece of corn-pone from the cupboard, she bent over and thrust it between little Peggy's chubby fingers ``Be still, honey, and listen to what your Pa says.Whar did ye find 'em, Tom?''
`` 'Twas Jim Ray found 'em,'' said Tom.``We went up to Crab Orchard, accordin' to the Colonel's orders and we was thar three days.Ye ought to hev seen the trash we turned back, Polly Ann! Most of 'em was scared plum' crazy, and they was fer gittin 'out 'n Kaintuckee at any cost.Some was fer fightin' their way through us.''
``The skulks!'' exclaimed Polly Ann.``They tried to kill ye? What did ye do?''
Tom grinned, his mouth full of bacon.
``Do?'' says he; ``we shot a couple of 'em in the legs and arms, and bound 'em up again.They was in a t'arin' rage.I'm more afeard of a scar't man,--a real scar't man--nor a rattler.They cussed us till they was hoarse.Said they'd hev us hung, an' Clark, too.
Said they hed a right to go back to Virginny if they hed a mind.''
``An' what did ye say?'' demanded Polly Ann, pausing in her work, her eyes flashing with resentment.``Did ye tell 'em they was cowards to want to settle lands, and not fight for 'em? Other folks' lands, too.''
``We didn't tell 'em nothin','' said Tom; ``jest sent 'em kitin' back to the stations whar they come from.''
``I reckon they won't go foolin' with Clark's boys again,''
said Polly Ann, resuming a vigorous rubbing of the skillet.
``Ye was tellin' me about these fine folks ye fetched home.''
She tossed her head in the direction of the open door, and I wondered if the fine folks were outside.
``Oh, ay,'' said Tom, ``they was comin' this way, from the Carolinys.Jim Ray went out to look for a deer, and found 'em off 'n the trail.By the etarnal, they WAStuckered.HE was the wust, Jim said, lyin' down on a bed of laurels she and the niggers made.She has sperrit, that woman.Jim fed him, and he got up.She wouldn't eat nothin', and made Jim put him on his hoss.She walked.
I can't mek out why them aristocrats wants to come to Kaintuckee.They're a sight too tender.''
``Pore things!'' said Polly Ann, compassionately.``So ye fetched 'em home.''
``They hadn't a place ter go,'' said he, ``and I reckoned 'twould give 'em time ter ketch breath, an' turn around.
I told 'em livin' in Kaintuck was kinder rough.''
``Mercy!'' said Polly Ann, ``ter think that they was use' ter silver spoons, and linen, and niggers ter wait on 'em.Tom, ye must shoot a turkey, and I'll do my best to give 'em a good supper.'' Tom rose obediently, and seized his coonskin hat.She stopped him with a word.
``Tom.''
``Ay?''
``Mayhap--mayhap Davy would know 'em.He's been to Charlestown with the gentry there.''
``Mayhap,'' agreed Tom.``Pore little deevil,'' said he, ``he's hed a hard time.''
``He'll be right again soon,'' said Polly Ann.``He's been sleepin' that way, off and on, fer a week.'' Her voice faltered into a note of tenderness as her eyes rested on me.
``I reckon we owe Davy a heap, Polly Ann,'' said he.
I was about to interrupt, but Polly Ann's next remark arrested me.
``Tom,'' said she, ``he oughter be eddicated.''
``Eddicated!'' exclaimed Tom, with a kind of dismay.
``Yes, eddicated,'' she repeated.``He ain't like you and me.He's different.He oughter be a lawyer, or somethin'.''
Tom reflected.
``Ay,'' he answered, ``the Colonel says that same thing.He oughter be sent over the mountain to git l'arnin'.''
``And we'll be missing him sore,'' said Polly Ann, with a sigh.
I wanted to speak then, but the words would not come.
``Whar hev they gone?'' said Tom.
``To take a walk,'' said Polly Ann, and laughed.``The gentry has sech fancies as that.Tom, I reckon I'll fly over to Mrs.McCann's an' beg some of that prime bacon she has.''
Tom picked up his ride, and they went out together.
I lay for a long time reflecting.To the strange guests whom Tom in the kindness of his heart had brought back and befriended I gave little attention.I was overwhelmed by the love which had just been revealed to me.And so I was to be educated.It had been in my mind these many years, but I had never spoken of it to Polly Ann.
Dear Polly Ann! My eyes filled at the thought that she herself had determined upon this sacrifice.
There were footsteps at the door, and these I heard, and heeded not.Then there came a voice,--a woman's voice, modulated and trained in the perfections of speech and in the art of treating things lightly.At the sound of that voice I caught my breath.
``What a pastoral! Harry, if we have sought for virtue in the wilderness, we have found it.''
``When have we ever sought for virtue, Sarah?''
It was the man who answered and stirred another chord of my memory.
``When, indeed!'' said the woman; `` 'tis a luxury that is denied us, I fear me.''
``Egad, we have run the gamut, all but that.''
I thought the woman sighed.
``Our hosts are gone out,'' she said, ``bless their simple souls! 'Tis Arcady, Harry, `where thieves do not break in and steal.' That's Biblical, isn't it?'' She paused, and joined in the man's laugh.``I remember--'' She stopped abruptly.
``Thieves!'' said he, ``not in our sense.And yet a fortnight ago this sylvan retreat was the scene of murder and sudden death.''
``Yes, Indians,'' said the woman; ``but they are beaten off and forgotten.Troubles do not last here.Did you see the boy? He's in there, in the corner, getting well of a fearful hacking.Mrs.McChesney says he saved her and her brats.''
``Ay, McChesney told me,'' said the man.``Let's have a peep at him.''
In they came, and I looked on the woman, and would have leaped from my bed had the strength been in me.