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The Battle Ground

Chapter 2 - AT THE FULL OF THE MOON

Word Count: 3931    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

ntern in the topmost pine upon a distant mount

fringe of ragged firs stood out illuminated against the sky. In the warm

of dust chased toward her as the wheels came steadily on. They were evidently ancient, for they turned with a protesting creak which w

nto the road-it was only Major Lightfoot, the owner of

box, and, at the words, the Major's head was thrust through

rise. "Why, I thought it was the duty o

replied the child. "I

glad enough to do it then, I warrant you,-but are you all alone, young lady?" As Betty nodded, he opened the door and stepped gingerly down.

and broad black stock. He was very tall and spare, and his eyebrows, which hung thick and dark above his Roman nose,

u may drive on, Big Abel," to the driver, "and remember to take out those bu

fat old roans, and with a great c

d rather you wouldn't,

ghty instead of eight, the gesture could not have expressed more defe

t to her left hand, and gave him her right one. "When I marry, I'm goi

urther from the sowing of them. He had lived to regret both the loss of his gayety and the languor of his blood, and, as he drifted further from the middle years, he had at last yielded to tranquillity with a sigh. In his day he had matched

" he sighed over to himself, and

say that?"

ust out his chin between the high points of his collar. His long white hair, falling beneath his hat, fra

he saw the windows of her home flaming amid the darkness. Farther away there were the small lights of the negro ca

ed, walking faster. "Yonder comes Pet

set with detached wings in a grove of maples. "Why, there's papa looking for me," cried the child, as a man's figu

ringing voice, and, as the other came up to him, he stopped to shak

ed the other, heartily. "I'm afraid

re he appeared singularly boyish, though he held himself severely to the number of his inches, and even added, by means of a simplicity almost august, a fu

No, no, I say-put a bold foot on the matter. Don't give up a good thing for the sake of a bad one, sir. I remember my grandfather in England telling me that at his first twinge of gout he took a glass of sh

ipe for the toe

just been in to have a look at that new mare Tom Bickels is putting on the track, and bless my soul, she

,-and a beauty she was, too,-but come in to supper with us, my dear Major; w

y Oaks tavern by the way, and a mighty bad one, too, but the worst thing about it was that they actually had the impudenc

r word," he said; "so I must tell Julia to mend her views before she asks you to dine. She has j

; my regards to her,-and to her aunts, sir. Ah, good night, good night,"

hadrach, the head butler, looked out to reprimand her. "Ef'n anybody 'cep'n Marse Peyton had cotch y

ng to her father's hand, she entered the dining

, for heaven's sake don't strangle me. Your mother's the o

ce. She was very frail and gentle, and her voice was hardly more than a clear whisp

amily. He surveyed his wife, her two maiden aunts and his own elder brother with the ineff

h, Miss Lydia, I know whom to thank for this," he added, taking up a pale tea rosebud from his plate, and bowing to one of the two old ladies se

is wife, with a pleased smile, "and the quinces to Aunt Pussy," s

with conscious virtue. Miss Lydia, who was tall and delicate and bent with the weight of potential sanctity, shook her silvery head and folded her exquisite old hands beneath the ruff

for preserving," she murmured plaintively

Miss Lydia, your mere existence is a blessing to mank

d Miss Lydia still hung hard by-that Mr. Bill's peculiar apathy was of a sentimental origin. Nearly thirty years before he had made a series of mild advances to his second cous

helped himself to chicken, M

s very flippant," she offered as

had been hardly more than he would have felt for a prize perch that had wriggled from his line into the stream. The perch,

alarm as they noted the emptiness of Miss Pussy's cup. "By the way, Julia," he went on with a change of

hese offices of hostess were accomplished. "He has never been himself since his daughter ran away, and that was-dear me, why that was twelve years ag

" sighed Miss Lydia; "but he was

he year, I remember, that the mistletoe was brought home in a cart,-when the door opened and in came the Major. 'Jane has run away with that dirty scamp Montjoy,' he sai

her seat. "I got here before the waffles," she cried. "Mam

o like his master-commanding port, elaborate shirt-front, and high white stock-that th

g, you know. I remember your great-grandmother telling me that once when she dined at the White House, when her father was in C

or me," cried Betty

s wife's eyes, he quickly forced his

a took the brownest waffle. When the thanksgiving was ended, she turned indignantly upon her sister.

dear," murmur

ire bran', dat's w'at she

thanking Him for it!" sobbed Betty, and she burst into tears an

"I'm afraid the child is really getti

declared Mr. Bill, mopping h

g er willow, Marse Peyton," muttered

e Governor, which was the harshest comman

en she went upstairs a little later, she car

"and you must rub this right on and not wash it off till morning-and, after you've

d her face in buttermilk. "I don't reckon there's any use about the other," she said. "I believe the Lord's jest leavin' me in sin as a warn

hrough her profile as through delicate porcelain, and illumining her worn and fragile figure. She moved with a slow step, as if

wn and prayed beside her, and went out again with the white light streaming upon her bosom. An hour later Betty heard her soft, slow step on the gravelled drive an

n from beneath her pillow and crept on bare feet to the door. It was black there, and black all down the wide, old staircase. The great hall below was like a cavern underground. Trembling when a board creaked under her, she cautiously felt her way with her hands on

to the roof, and beyond the steps the gravelled drive shone hard as silver. As the child wen

her trailing gown caught in a fallen branch, and she fell on her face.

re her stretched the turnpike, darkened by shadows that bore no likeness to the objects from which they borr

. As she settled it in place, her pulses gave a startled leap, and she stood t

ce; then her sturdy little heart too

nute, Mr. Devil, I'm

d into the light-a half-starved boy, with a white, pinched fac

doing here?" h

have been a tiny ghost in the moonlight, wi

answered simply.

looked her ove

whe

where, but I ran

ny-day Jones beat one of hi

"My mother died, and my father went

t so sharply that Be

she questioned. "Are you l

e lives somewhere on this road, at a place named Chericoke

. "Why, that's where Champe lives!" she

replied the boy; "b

she looked at the boy again, she caught her breat

anything since-

e's a currant pie in the safe," she said. "I saw Uncle Shadrach

ied his face in his hands. His feet were set stubbornly in the road, and the bundle lay beside

out his hands. When she gave him the pie, he ate almost wolfishly, licking the crumb

the little girl. It had seemed a very l

imself, and swung his

eld an' past the maple spring, an' at the dead tree by Aunt Ailsey's cabin you turn into the road with the

but as she ended, he tu

quaint little bow; and Betty bobbed a courtesy in

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