Old Man Savarin Stories

ag. It is impossible to understand Canadian feeling for the Crown at the present day without understanding the U. E. Loyalist spirit, which, though Canadia

e to tell me that you love George Winthrop! Son of canting, lying Ezra

, reached for his long rifle on its pins above the chimney-place, d

! You could not! The war is over. It woul

sed rag at the muzzle of his rifle. "A rank traitor-bone and blood of those who drove out loyal men!"-he crowded the tight lead home, dashed the ram

ed the alternative of confiscation or the oath of allegiance on the vanquished,

whom he had poured scorn before the armed struggle began. More than any he hated Ezra Winthrop, the lawyer, arch-revolutionist of their native town, who had never used a weapon but his tongue. And now his Ruth, the beloved and only child left to his exiled age, had confessed her love for Ezra Winthrop's son! They had been boy and girl, pretty maiden and bright strip

moment her terror increased-expectant attention became suffering that demanded his voice-and still was silence-save for the dull roar of Niagara that more and more pervaded the air. The torture of waiting for the words-a curse against her, s

inexorable, eternal, onward pouring. Because it was so mighty and so threatening, he rejoiced grimly in the awful river. To float, watching cracks and ledges of its flat bottom-rock drift quickly upward; to bend to his oars only when white crests of the rapids yelled for his life; to win escape by sheer strength from points so low down that he sometimes doubted but the greedy forces had been tempted too long; to stake his life, watching tree-tops for a s

Ontario, had given her his own letter asking leave from the Squire to visit his newly made cabin. From the moment of arrival her lover had implored her to fly with him. But filial love was strong in Ruth to give hope that her father would yield t

as the largest flag he could procure; he could see it flying defiantly all day long; at night he could hear its glorious folds whipping in the wind; the hot old Loy

rush-heaps and tree-trunks, his queue waggling, his eyes bright, glad, under his three-c

ing? It was the signal

. Father is out yonder. But no,

with me, love," he s

take us. He swears to shoot you on sight! Go, George!

can escape easily. I know the forest path

up!" cried Winthrop, looking toward where

. "This is the last time I shall see you forever a

sing, imploring, cheering her,-and how sho

*

see the wide smooth curve where the green volume first lapses vastly on a lazy slope, to shoulder up below as a huge calm billow, before pitching into the madness of waves whose confusion of tossing and tortured crests hurries to the abys

then on the river, except his own skiff, could be safe, unless manned by several good men. Only two oars were flashing. Bedell could make out two figures indistinctly. It was clear they were doomed,-though sti

recognized it, but kept right on-he must try to rescue even a thief. He wondered Ruth had not prevented the theft, b

,-the old Loyalist's heart was quit of his pangs, and sore only with certainty that he must abandon one human sou

were in the remorseless grasp of the river. Ruth had so often seen her father far lower down than they had yet drifted that she did not realize the truth, and George, a stranger in the Niagara district, was unaware of the l

the man would abandon himself bravely, the Squire took as a matter of course. For a while he thought of pulling with the woman to the American shore, more easily to be gained from the point where the rescue must occur. But he rejected the plan, confident he could win back, for he had sworn never to s

well-known ribbon caught his attention! The old man dropped his oars, confused with horror. "My God, my God

erhaps he is in pain," said

t be?" she cried, filial lov

ess,-his first wish was to secure his bride,-and pull

he Falls, then!" screamed Ru

of ourselves. We must go back to save him!" Yet his was a sore groan at turning;

the old Loyalist resumed rowing, with a more

aded with him beneath his dead wife's brow. Into those beloved, unforgotten, visionary eyes he looked with an encouraging, strengthening gaze,-now that the deed to be done was as clear before him as the face of Almighty God. In accepting it the dar

eep peace had co

calm and cheerful, a gentle smile flickered about his lips. Only that h

she cried, as he lai

ered. "Come now without a

let us be happy!" cried Ru

inthrop, my son, you are in some danger. Into this boat instantly! both of you! Take the oars, George. Kiss me,

sing the skiff. His imperative gentleness had secured his object without

r shore! Bow well up! Away, or the

l the last the old man had spoken without strong excitement. Dread of the river was not on George;

low away instantly. "Row! Concern yourself not for me. I am going home. Row! for her life, Winthr

father!" cried Ruth, from the d

, but quite unthinking of the price paid for their safety. Look

ind he was! I'm sore-hearted for t

slowly, watching her swift drift down-down toward the towering mist. Then as he gazed at the cloud, rising in two distinct volumes, came a thought spurring the Loyalist spirit in an instant. He was not yet out of American water! Thereafter he pulled steadily, pow

trailing, swaying, single weeds, and the crevices in flat rock whence they so strangely grew, went up stream and away as if drawn backward. The sameness of the bottom to that higher up interested him-where then did the current begin to sweep clean? He should certainly know that soon, he thought, without a to

aw him put his boat stern with the current and cease rowing entirely, facing fairly the up-rushing mist to which he was being hurried. Then they o

rewell. What then? Thrice round he flung his hat, with a gesture they knew full well. Some had seen that exultant waving in front of ranks of battle. As clearly as th

ecognition, portions of clothing still adhered to it, and in a waistcoat pocket they found the old Loyalist's metal snuff-box, wi