A Daughter of the Forest Read online

  A DAUGHTER OF THE FOREST

  by

  EVELYN RAYMOND

  Author of "A Yankee Girl" etc.

  Illustrated by Ida Waugh

  The Penn Publishing CompanyPhiladelphia MCMII

  Copyright 1902 by The Penn Publishing Company

  Published August 15, 1902

  A Daughter of the Forest

  THE GIRL KNELT, INDIAN FASHION]

  Contents

  CHAPTER PAGE

  I THE STORM 5

  II SPIRIT OR MORTAL 15

  III AN ESTRAY FROM CIVILIZATION 27

  IV WHAT WAS IN THE NAME 40

  V IN ALADDIN LAND 53

  VI A ONE-SIDED STORY 67

  VII A WOODLAND MENAGERIE 78

  VIII KING MADOC 84

  IX PERPLEXITIES 96

  X DEPARTURE 109

  XI A DISCLOSURE 120

  XII CARRYING 134

  XIII A DEAD WATER TRAGEDY 146

  XIV SHOOTING THE RAPIDS 157

  XV SCIENCE AND SUPERSTITION 172

  XVI DIVERGING ROADS 188

  XVII IN THE HOUR OF DARKNESS 201

  XVIII THE LETTER 212

  XIX A QUESTION OF APPAREL 226

  XX COMING AND GOING 241

  XXI IN THE GREAT RAILWAY STATION 259

  XXII NUMBER 526 272

  XXIII FATHER AND SON 283

  XXIV A HIDDEN SAFE DEPOSIT 302

  XXV THE MELODY AND MYSTERY OF LIFE 319

  A Daughter of the Forest

  CHAPTER I

  THE STORM

  "Margot! Margot!"

  Mother Angelique's anxious call rang out over the water, once, twice,many times. But, though she shaded her brows with her hands andstrained her keen ears to listen, there was no one visible and noresponse came back to her. So she climbed the hill again and,reentering the cabin, began to stir with almost vicious energy thecontents of a pot swinging in the wide fireplace. As she toiled shemuttered and wagged her gray head with sage misgivings.

  "For my soul! There is the ver' bad hoorican' a-comin', and the childso heedless. But the signs, the omens! This same day I did fallasleep at the knitting and waked a-smother. True, 'twas Meroude, thecat, crouched on my breast; yet what sent her save for a warning?"

  Though even in her scolding the woman smiled, recalling how Margot hadjeered at her superstition; and that when she had dropped her bit oflooking-glass the girl had merrily congratulated her on the fact;since by so doing she had secured "two mirrors in which to behold suchloveliness!"

  "No, no, not so. Death lurks in a broken glass; or, at the best, mustfollow seven full years of bad luck and sorrow."

  On which had come the instant reproof:

  "Silly Angelique! When there is no such thing as luck but all is ofthe will of God."

  The old nurse had frowned. The maid was too wise for her years. Shetalked too much with the master. It was not good for womenkind tolisten to grave speech or plague their heads with graver books. Books,indeed, were for priests and doctors; and, maybe, now and then, formen who could not live without them, like Master Hugh. She, Angelique,had never read a book in all her life. She never meant to do so. Shehad not even learned a single letter printed in their foolish pages.Not she. Yet was not she a most excellent cook and seamstress? Wasthere any cabin in all that northland as tidy as that she ruled?Would matters have been the better had she bothered her poor brainwith books? She knew her duty and she did it. What more could mortal?

  This argument had been early in the day. A day on which the master hadgone away to the mainland and the house-mistress had improved bygiving the house an extra cleaning. To escape the soapsuds and theloneliness, Margot had, also, gone, alone and unquestioned; takingwith her a luncheon of brown bread and cold fowl, her book andmicroscope. Angelique had watched the little canoe push off fromshore, without regret, since now she could work unhindered atclearing the room of the "rubbishy specimen" which the others hadbrought in to mess the place.

  Now, at supper time, perfect order reigned, and perfect quiet, aswell; save for the purring of Meroude upon the hearth and thesimmering of the kettle. Angelique wiped her face with her apron.

  "The great heat! and May but young yet. It means trouble. I wish----"

  Suddenly, the cat waked from her sleep and with a sharp meouw leapedto her mistress' shoulder; who screamed, dropped the ladle, splashedthe stew, and boxed the animal's ears--all within a few seconds. Hernerves were already tingling from the electricity in the air, and heranxiety returned with such force that, again swinging the crane aroundaway from the fire, she hurried to the beach.

  To one so weatherwise the unusual heat, the leaden sky, and theintense hush were ominous. There was not a breath of wind stirring,apparently, yet the surface of the lake was already dotted by tinywhite-caps, racing and chasing shoreward, like live creatures at play.Not many times, even in her long life in that solitude, had AngeliqueRicord seen just that curious coloring of cloud and water, and sherecalled these with a shudder. The child she loved was strong andskilful, but what would that avail? Her thin face darkened, itsfeatures sharpened, and making a trumpet of her hands, she put all herforce into a long, terrified halloo.

  "Ah-ho-a-ah! Margot--Mar-g-o-t--MARGOT!"

  Something clutched her shoulder and with another frightened scream thewoman turned to confront her master.

  "Is the child away?"

  "Yes, yes. I know not where."

  "Since when?"

  "It seems but an hour, maybe two, three, and she was here, laughing,singing, all as ever. Though it was before the midday, and she wentin her canoe, still singing."

  "Which way?"

  She pointed due east, but now into a gloom that was impenetrable. Onthe instant, the lapping wavelets became breakers, the wind rose to adeafening shriek, throwing Angelique to the ground and causing eventhe strong man to reel before it. As soon as he could right himself helifted her in his arms and staggered up the slope. Rather, he wasalmost blown up it and through the open door into the cabin, aboutwhich its furnishings were flying wildly. Here the woman recoveredherself and lent her aid in closing the door against the tempest, atask that, for a time, seemed impossible. Her next thought was for herdinner-pot, now swaying in the fireplace, up which the draught wasroaring furiously. Once the precious stew was in a sheltered corner,her courage failed again and she sank down beside it, moaning andwringing her hands.

  "It is the end of the world!"

  "Angelique!"

  Her wails ceased. That was a tone of voice she had never disobeyed inall her fifteen years of service.

  "Yes, Master Hugh."

  "Spread some blankets. Brew some herb tea. Get out a change of dryclothing. Make everything ready against I bring Margot in."

  She watched him hurrying about securing all the windows, piling woodon the coals, straight
ening the disordered furniture, fastening abundle of kindlings to his own shoulders, putting matches in thepocket of his closely buttoned coat, and caught something of hisspirit. After all, it was a relief to be doing something, even thoughthe roar of the tempest and the incessant flashes of lightning turnedher sick with fear. But it was all too short a task; and when, atlast, her master climbed outward through a sheltered rear window,closing it behind him, her temporary courage sank again and finally.

  "The broken glass! the broken glass! Yet who would dream it is mydarling's bright young life must pay for that and not mine, the oldand careworn? Ouch! the blast! That bolt struck--and near! Ah! me! Ah!me!"

  Meroude rubbed pleadingly against her arm and, glad of any livingcompanionship, she put out her hand to touch him; but drew it back indread, for his surcharged fur sparkled and set her flesh a-tingle,while the whole room grew luminous with an uncanny radiance. Feelingthat her own last hour had come, poor Angelique crouched still lowerin her corner and began to say her prayers with so much earnestnessthat she became almost oblivious to the tornado without.

  Meanwhile, by stooping and clinging to whatever support offered, HughDutton made his slow way beachward. But the bushes uprooted in hisclasp and the bowlders slipped by him on this new torrent rushing tothe lake. Then he flung himself face downward and cautiously crawledtoward the point of rocks whereon he meant to make his beacon fire.

  "She will see it and steer by it," he reflected; for he would notacknowledge how hopeless would be any human steering under such astress.

  Alas! the beacon would not light. The wind had turned icy cold and therain changed to hail which hurled itself upon the tiny blaze andstifled its first breath. A sort of desperate patience fell on the manand he began again, with utmost care, to build and shelter his littlestock of fire-wood. Match after match he struck and with unvaryingfailure, till all were gone; and realizing at last how chilled andrigid he was growing he struggled to his feet and set them intomotion.

  Then there came a momentary lull in the storm and he shouted aloud, asAngelique had done:

  "Margot! Little Margot! MARGOT!"

  Another gust swept over lake and island. He could hear the greattrees falling in the forest, the bang, bang, bang, of the deafeningthunder, as, blinded by lightning and overcome by exhaustion, he sankdown behind the pile of rocks and knew no more.