University of Virginia Library

7. CHAPTER VII.

“You may suppose what my confusion must have been, for I
can't describe it to you. I can only say that I felt pretty much
like a drunken man. Every thing swum around me. I was
certain of nothing; didn't know what to believe, and half the
time really doubted whether I was asleep or awake. But there
were the horses—there was Rainbow. I couldn't mistake him,
and if I had, he didn't mistake me. When he heard my voice as
I led him to the stable, he whinnied with a sort of joy, and pricked
up his ears, and showed his feeling as plainly as if he had a
human voice to speak it in words. And I reckon, too, it was a
more true feeling than many of those that are spoken in words.
I threw my arms round the good creature's neck, and if it hadn't
been for thinking of Rachel Herder, I reckon I should have kissed
him, too, it did me so much good to see him again. But I hadn't
much time for this sort of fondness, and when I remembered the
whole affair between the strange old gentleman, Mr. Eckhardt,
and myself, I was too much worried to think any more of Rainbow.
I couldn't bring myself to believe it true about the diamonds and
the wife; and when I remembered the sight that I had caught,
though a glimpse only, and for a single moment, of the great
beauty of the young lady, I couldn't help thinking that the stranger
was only making merry with me—running his rigs upon a
poor, rough, backwoodsman. But this notion roused up my pride
and feeling. `Not so rough,' says I to myself; `poor it may be,
but not mean; not more rough than honest labour makes a man.
And poor as you please, and rough as you please, when the
heart's right, and the head's no fool's head, the man's man
enough for any woman, though she walks in satin!' With this I
considered that I ought, at least, to make myself rather decent
before I sat down to supper. My cheeks burned me when I
looked at myself and remembered how she had caught me. I
knew that good soft spring water, and my best suit, would turn

me into quite another sort of looking man; but here again was
difficulty. It was my chamber which my father had given up to
the young lady, and all my clothes were in it. My new coat
and blue pantaloons hung upon pegs behind the door; and all my
shirts were in an old chest of drawers on which the looking-glass
stood; and to get these things without her seeing was impossible.
But it had to be done; so I called up the old negro woman servant
we had, and told her what to do, and sent her for the clothes,
while I waited for them at the back of the house. When she
brought them, I hurried down to the branch (brooklet) and made
a rapid and plentiful use of the waters. I then got in among the
bushes, and made a thorough change in my dress, taking care to
hide the old clothes in the hollow of a gum. I combed my hair
smoothly over the branch, which answered me at the same time
for a looking-glass, and had the effect of making me much more
satisfied with my personal appearance. I needn't blush, my
friend, at my time of life, to say that I thought myself then, and
was, a tolerable comely fellow; and I couldn't help feeling a
sneaking secret notion that the young lady would think so too.
Well, I got in time enough for supper. Mr. Eckhardt looked at
me, as I thought, with real satisfaction. He and my father had
been keeping company all the time I was gone, and I could see,
among other things, that they were mightily pleased with one another.
By and by, supper was brought in, and Rachel Herder
came out of her chamber. If I thought her beautiful before, I
thought her now ten times more so. Once I caught her eyes fixed
upon me, but she turned them away without any flurry or
confusion, and I don't think that I saw her look at me in particular
once again that night. This worried me, I confess. It seemed
to show that she wasn't thinking of me; and, moreover, it
seemed to show that Mr. Eckhardt hadn't said a word to her
about the business; and this made me more ready to believe that
he had only been running his rigs upon me. Yet there was
something about his looks and in his words, whenever he spoke to
me—something so real, serious, earnest, that I couldn't help believing,
after all, that the affair wasn't altogether over. Nor was
it, as you will see directly.

“Supper went forward. You know what a country supper is,

out here in Mississippi, so it don't need to tell you that cornbread,
and a little eggs and bacon, and a smart bowl of milk, was pretty
much the amount of it. The young lady ate precious little;
took a little milk, I believe, and a corn biscuit. As for me,
I'm very sure I ate still less. My heart was too much in my
mouth to suffer me to put in any thing more; for, whichever
way I thought of the matter, I was worried half to death. If
the old gentleman was serious, it was still a mighty terrifying
thing to have a wife so suddenly forced upon a body,—a wife
that you never saw before and didn't know any thing about; and
if he wasn't serious, it was very hard to lose so lovely a creature,
just too after your heart had been tantalized and tempted by
the promise that she was all for yourself. As I tell you, my
friend, whichever way I could think of it, I was still worried
half to death.

“After supper, Mr. Eckhardt asked me to walk out with him;
so, leaving the young lady with my father,—who, by the way, had
already grown mightily pleased with her,—off we went into the
woods. We hadn't gone very far when the old gentleman spoke,
pretty abruptly:

“ `Well, Rayner, my lad, you've seen the lady whom I intend
as your wife. Does she suit you?'

“ `Why, sir, you're rather quick. I can answer for her beauty:
she's about the beautifullest creature I ever did see, but it's
not beauty altogether that makes a good wife, and I ha'n't had
time yet to judge whether she'll suit me.'

“ `How much time do you want?' said he shortly.

“ `Well, I can't say.'

“ `Will a week or ten days answer?'

“ `That's as it happens,' said I. `Some men you can understand
in an hour, just as if you had been with 'em all your life.
I'm pretty much such a person myself,—but with some you can't
get on so rapidly. You'll be with them a year, and know just
as little of their hearts at the end of it, as you did at the beginning.'

“ `Humph! and whose fault will that be but your own? There's
an eye to see, Rayner, as well as a thing to be seen. It depends
very much upon the seeker whether he shall ever find. But
enough. There's no need in this case for much philosophy.

You are easily read, and so is Rachel. A week will answer to
make you both acquainted, and I'll leave her with you for that
time.'

“ `But are you serious?' I asked.

“ `Serious! But your question is natural. I am a man of
few words, Rayner. You see something in my proceedings which
is extraordinary. As the world goes, and acts, and thinks, perhaps
it is; but nothing was ever more deliberate or well advised,
on my part, than this proceeding. Hear me, lad! this lady is a
ward of mine; the daughter of a very dear friend, who gave her
to my trust. I swore to do by her as a father. I am anxious to
do so; but I am an old man, not long for this world,—an erring
man, not always sure of doing right while I am in it. I wish to
find the child a protector,—a good man,—a kind man,—a man
whom I can trust. This has been my desire for some time. I
fancy I have found in you the very person I seek. I am a man
to look keenly, judge quickly, and act in the same manner. As
you yourself have remarked, you are a person easily understood.
I understood you in a little time, and was pleased with what I saw
of you. I have chosen you out as the husband of Rachel. She
knows nothing yet of my purpose. You, I see, have kept your
father in partial ignorance of our adventure. Perhaps you were
right in this case, though, as a general rule, such secrecy between
two persons placed as you are would have been an error. Well,
Rachel shall stay with you a week. I know her so well that I
fancy you will in that time become intimate and remain pleased
with each other—sufficiently pleased to make the rest easy.'

“There was some more talk between us, as we went toward the
house, but this was the substantial part of what was said. Once
I made some remark on the strangeness of such a preference
shown to me, when in the great cities he might have found so
many young men better suited by education for a young lady
whom he represented to be so accomplished; but he had his answer
for this also; and so quickly uttered, and with such a commanding
manner, that, even if I had not been satisfied, I should
still have been silenced.

“ `Your remark is natural. Half the world, having such a
child to dispose of, would have gone to the great city, and have

preferred a fashionable husband. But I know her heart. It is
her heart, and not her accomplishments, that I wish to provide for.
I want a man, not a dandy,—a frank, noble-hearted citizen, however
plain, not a selfish, sophisticated calculator, who looks for a
wife through the stock market. Enough, my good fellow; no
more words.'