Stanford Eveleth - Miss Dexie

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But as Hugh bent to the oars, sending the little craft so swiftly to do her
bidding, the courage that had hitherto sustained her suddenly vanished.
Alone and unprotected, what might not happen to her? But it was too late to
call Hugh back now, so she must face whatever fate there was in store for
her. What if Hugh had no intention of sending help to her, and should leave
her there? Oh, for some chance to get away!

Dexie had almost given up in despair when the muffled sound of oars was
borne on her ears. She sprang quickly to the other side of the vessel and
looked anxiously in the direction of the sound. Soon the rower came in
sight, and by the stripes and epaulets of the wearer she recognized him as
a military officer, whose strong, rapid strokes were rapidly taking him
citywards. Oh, if he would only take her with him! Dare she ask him? The
hitherto-despised soldier seemed an angel of mercy, as the hope of rescue
sprang up again in her heart. But he is coming near, and she must not let
the chance slip. How should she hail him? In what words make known her
peril? She felt stupid, just when she needed her readiest wit. He was
almost abreast the vessel before Dexie found her voice, and then in
frightened tones came the cry:

"Help, soldier! Help!"

The soldier turned his head, and rested on his oars as he listened.

"Help, soldier! Save me, I beg of you!"

The pleading tones told that the cry was from someone in trouble, and a few
strokes brought him to the vessel's side.

"What's the matter, miss? What's wrong that you are calling for help? What
can I do for you?"

"Oh, take me away from this vessel! You are going to the city, are you
not?"

"Yes; but perhaps I shall get myself into some scrape if I take you away,"
and a smile lit up his face for a moment. "How came you here? Are you here
against your will?"

"Yes, and no. Take me off quickly, and I'll explain," she replied,
hurriedly, for a movement below reached her ears.

She was soon seated opposite her deliverer, who looked at her curiously,
but said nothing till they were quite a distance from the vessel; then,
resting on his oars, he said:

"Now, tell me how you came to be on that vessel; but, first, will you tell
me your name?"

"Oh! must I--" and Dexie dropped her head.

"Well, you need not if you do not wish to. I know you, all the same, though
I have not heard your name. You are the 'American Warbler.' Now, tell me
your story."

"I hardly know how to tell it, though I don't mind you knowing about it.
There is so much to tell before you will understand how I came to be on the
vessel."

"Well, if it is all a secret, I'll promise not to tell anyone except my
wife. She might hear that I have been on the harbor with a young lady, so I
had better tell her myself," and he smilingly waited Dexie's explanation.

"Oh! since you are married, it will not be so hard to tell."

There was quite a pause. Where would she begin?

"Come, now, how did you come to be aboard the vessel?" he repeated.

"But I can't tell you _how_ until I have told you _why_," said she, trying
to control her voice, "so I must tell you all that happened this
afternoon," and, beginning from the time that Hugh prevented her from
joining her sister on the wharf, she told the story of the afternoon,
though not without skilful questionings that made the matter clear, though
hardly comprehensible. She gave no names, but mentioned Hugh as "the young
gentleman."

"You have had quite an adventure, Miss--," and he looked up thinking she
would supply the name, but she smiled and shook her head.

"Miss Jonathan, then; you must have some name for my wife to know you by,"
he added, smilingly. "Now, I don't think you did a very wise thing when you
got on a strange craft for safety. It was all right as it happened, but it
might not have happened all right. However, you are safely out of the
scrape; still, if I am not mistaken in the young man, he thinks too much of
you to really harm you."

"Do you think you know who it was?" and she looked up with a flushed face.

"Well, I suppose it was the same chap that whistled with you at the
concert, wasn't it!"

"No, indeed! I suppose I must tell you more, after all. You don't
understand the half of it yet. It was one who was, at one time, my sister's
lover, or so I thought, but he--"

"He changed his mind, I see," and there was a twinkle of fun in the eyes
that watched the face before him. "I begin to see the point now. That is
why he did not want your sister with you. May I hazard a guess and say that
perhaps it was the dark young man who was glowering at you the night of the
concert? Oh, I saw it all," as she looked up in surprise. "So it was he?"

"Yes, he was out of temper that night, I remember."

"Well, he did not look very amiable, I must say; but, for all that, you
were safer with him than on the vessel, for, if I am not mistaken, that is
the crew going aboard now," and the shouts and songs of the sailors reached
their ears as they rowed towards the vessel.

"Oh! thank you, thank you a thousand times, for coming along just when you
did! What should I have done? But I had this," and she drew forth the
revolver from her pocket.

"Great Scott! have you got that yet? What were you going to do with it?"

"I would have turned it on myself if there was no other way. Would you mind
accepting it? McNeil shall never have it back," and she laid it by his
side.

The oars were poised in the air as he caught the name. "McNeil, you said!
Not the McNeil that has had the fortune left him lately, and is considered
such a great catch?"

"Yes, he has had a fortune left him; as for being a great catch"--and the
shrug of her shoulders finished her answer.

"Well, I don't think he will have to force his attentions on the rest of
the young ladies around Halifax by the aid of a revolver anyway, if all
they say of the young man is true. He is well liked, I hear, by all who
know him. And so you won't have him?"

"No, I won't promise to marry any man, however rich he is, who would ask
it with a revolver in his possession to enforce it. I should hate him for
it."

"There spoke the woman's heart; a loaded revolver is hardly a lover's
weapon, I'll admit. What a bit of romance this will be for my wife! Have I
your permission to tell it?"

"Just as you like; but please do not tell anyone else--your soldier
friends, I mean."

"Certainly not, if you wish it; but young ladies usually like to boast of
their conquests."

"Well, on all other points McNeil is sensible, and, as he will probably
marry someone else some day, it will not be pleasant to have this affair
become known."

CHAPTER XXX.

It was quite dark when they reached the wharf, and Dexie was wondering if
Lancy knew of her absence when she saw his well-known figure outlined
against the sky.

He did not know that the object of his anxious thoughts was so near, as he
stood looking seaward, with a dark frown upon his face.

As the soldier moored the little boat, and prepared to help Dexie ashore,
she suddenly said: "I gave you the revolver, but will you mind giving me
the rest of the bullets in it?"

He looked at her in surprise.

"Certainly," he replied, and he laid them in her hand, "but I think you
will find them unpleasant reminders of an incident you would do well to
forget. A man in love is often a desperate individual, without realizing
his condition; and I have no doubt that, by this time, McNeil would do much
to recall what passed this afternoon. So let me ask you, for him, to
forgive it."

"I could forgive all but the _revolver_ part of it. That was premeditated,
and I shall not forget it. Let me thank you again for your kind assistance.
I shall always think better of the soldiers for your kindness to me."

"I am amply repaid, my fair warbler," replied the soldier, as they stood at
last on the wharf, "and if your excitable lover ever asks for his revolver,
here is my address," and he handed her a card; "but, if I mistake not, a
friend is waiting for you," and he waved his hand towards Lancy.

At that moment Lancy turned, and seeing the object of his thoughts so near,
and in company with a soldier, his face underwent a series of expressions.
But it was really Dexie, though he could scarcely believe his own eyesight,
and he was at her side in a moment.

"Why, Dexie! where have you been? We were afraid there had been an
accident."

A hundred questions were on his lips, but the presence of the soldier kept
them back.

"I have been in danger, but there has been no accident, Lancy; and you must
thank this gentleman for bringing me safely home."

As the memory of it all passed before her, her self-control gave way, and
covering her face with her hands she burst into tears.

This was rather embarrassing to Lancy, who was all in the dark in regard to
Dexie's movements. He was told that she had gone off with Hugh, and here
she was in company with a soldier, and in tears.

"She will be all right in a few minutes," the officer replied, in answer to
Lancy's surprised looks. "She has gone through enough to try a strong
woman's nerves. Wait here; I'll get that cab, if it is empty, and you can
take her home at once," and he darted up the wharf at a rapid pace.

"Where is Hugh?" said Lancy hurriedly; "not drowned, Dexie?"

"No; not that I know of," she said, choking back her tears.

"Then, what does all this mean? How came you to be out with the soldier,
Dexie? I don't know what to think."

"I will tell you presently, but that soldier saved my life. Thank him for
me, Lancy, for I cannot say enough."

The arrival of the cab prevented further explanation, and Dexie allowed
herself to be seated in it without a word.

"I do not yet know what has happened," said Lancy, holding out his hand to
the soldier, "but I thank you very heartily for your kindness. Jump into
the cab with us, as far as your way lies, and tell me what this is all
about."

As they took their seats, Lancy turned to Dexie, who had almost recovered
her composure, saying:

"You have not yet introduced me to your friend. How shall I call him?"

Dexie held up the card she had in her hand, saying: "I do not know myself,
and it is too dark to read."

"I am Lieutenant Wilbur, at your service, and I feel happy in being the
means of rescuing the 'American Warbler' from a very unpleasant situation."

"I am Launcelot Gurney. Now, will one of you tell me what has happened? You
have not been capsized, Dexie, for your clothes are not wet; but you have
been gone since early afternoon, and return in unexpected company. I am
bewildered by the thoughts and suggestions that crowd into my mind."

"Let me tell the story briefly, and she can relate the details later on.
Here it is: Your fair warbler finds herself afloat, and unintentionally
alone with a desperate lover, who demands her heart and hand at the point
of a revolver, with the alternative of a death in his arms. Choosing
neither, said American warbler skilfully guides the boat to a vessel
anchored near, hoping to find a rescuer. This failing her, she takes
advantage of a moment when the aforesaid lover's back is turned, and
escapes to the vessel by aid of a rope ladder, and effectually keeps at bay
the aforesaid lover by a judicious use of the revolver, which had
previously been turned against herself. Then finding himself worsted, the
afore-mentioned desperate lover hies himself away, and your humble servant
turns up in the nick of time, and rescues the almost despairing warbler,
and returns her to the arms of--well--a waiting friend; quite a romance, my
wife will say."

Lancy listened to the story with amazement.

"Dexie, is this possible? or is the lieutenant only joking?"

"It has been no joke to me, Lancy; I can say that," was the reply in a
quivering voice. "I was not off the vessel ten minutes, before we met the
vessel's crew going towards her. I can't bear to think of it."

"But the revolver; surely that is an exaggeration!"

"It is here," and the lieutenant held it towards Lancy, who drew back with
a shudder.

"Heavens! is it possible? I can hardly realize how Hugh was capable of such
an act."

"You had better take this Mr. Gurney, and give it to the owner," said the
lieutenant, still holding out the weapon.

"No!" said Dexie quickly, "he shall not have it back! If you will not keep
it, Lieutenant Wilbur, I will throw it into the harbor the first chance I
get!"

"I will keep it then, fair warbler," and he replaced it in his pocket.

"Does he not know your name?" said Lancy, in a low tone.

"No, but he saw us both in the hall, and remembers me."

"Well, it is but fair, lieutenant," said Lancy aloud, "that you should know
the name of the lady you rescued. This is Miss Dexie Sherwood."

"Ah! happy to know you at last, Miss Sherwood," was the laughing reply, as
he bent over her a moment; "but I must bid you good-bye, as I get off
here," and signalling the driver he lifted his cap, and was soon out of
sight.

They reached home in a few minutes, and Lancy followed Dexie into the
house, saying:

"I must have the story from your lips before I leave you to-night, Dexie."

"Very well; but remember it is long past tea-time, and I am almost
famished."

The family had become very much alarmed at Dexie's prolonged absence, and
Mr. Sherwood had gone out to inquire if any accident had been reported on
the water. As Dexie entered the sitting-room, Gussie looked up in
surprise, as she saw who was Dexie's companion; she expected it would be
Hugh, and it was easy to see that she was not in the best of tempers.

"It is time you were home, miss," was her caustic remark. "It is a wonder
you are not ashamed of yourself to stay out till this hour! Just you wait
till papa comes home--he has been almost wild with fright; and you have
given mamma one of her nervous headaches, and she is quite ill; so you know
just what you may expect from her."

Dexie made no answer, but moved briskly from sideboard to closet,
collecting her supper.

"It would have been better for you if you had come home at the proper time
to your supper, instead of keeping us waiting for you, as you did," and a
torrent of complaints and reproaches were poured out, regardless of Lancy's
presence, till he was moved to reply:

"I think, Gussie, if you knew the cause of her detention, and how much she
has borne because of it, you would not say another unkind word to her
to-night."

"Oh, never mind her, Lancy," said Dexie; "honestly, I rather enjoy it. I
was so afraid this afternoon that I should never hear her scold me again
that I can bear all she has to say as meekly as a lamb."

Gussie looked up in astonishment, then dropped her eyes for very shame.

"What has happened? Were you capsized? Is Hugh drowned?" she asked in
alarm, noticing for the first time how sober they looked.

Her unceremonious exit from the boat had put her out of temper. She felt
angry and mortified when she remembered how glad Hugh seemed to be to get
rid of her. Was the day to end in a tragedy?

Where was Hugh, sure enough?

After leaving Dexie, he rowed across the harbor to some small fishing-boats
that were riding at anchor, and tried to hire the occupants of one of them
to accompany him to the vessel. But the story he told them seemed so
improbable they would pay no attention to him for some time. Hugh was
almost beside himself with fear on Dexie's account; but he at last
succeeded in persuading a crafty old fellow to accompany him, by promising
him more money for his services than the fisherman had ever, at one time,
seen in his life, and finally he accompanied Hugh back to the vessel.

But, by the time they arrived, Dexie had disappeared past George's Island
with the soldier, and Hugh found the vessel's deck alive with a set of men
capable of the darkest deeds that drunken sailors ever perpetrated. Hugh's
inquiries were not understood, of course; but believing the worst, he
demanded to be allowed on board the vessel. This the captain, who now
appeared, and who was about as drunk as his crew, refused to allow. Hugh
urged and argued in vain, the idea of a young lady being aboard the vessel
being hailed with uproarious shrieks of merriment by the vessel's crew.
Hugh was at last obliged to give up in despair, and he rowed back with all
speed towards the city, to secure the aid of the police in his search.

This was the darkest hour Hugh had ever known. The strain on his nerves,
coupled with the anxiety of the previous weeks, was more than he could
bear, and when, with the assistance of two men armed with authority, he
searched the vessel for any trace of Dexie's presence, and found none, his
brain seemed to collapse, and the brass-buttoned officers carried him back
in their boat to Halifax in a state of unconsciousness.

About midnight, with a doctor in attendance, he was carefully carried to
Mr. Gurney's in a state of delirium.

The next morning the startling news was brought into the Sherwood household
that Hugh McNeil was down with brain fever, and that the doctor had not
left the house since midnight.

Why did they all look at Dexie in such a horrified manner? Was she to
blame? Their looks implied as much. She fought against the implication
inwardly, but made no remark whatever as the news was being discussed.

But, as the day wore on, the unnatural stillness of the house seemed to
weigh her down with its oppressiveness, and she caught herself listening to
every sound with strained ears and every nerve on the alert.

She did not dare venture into the next door to make inquiries, not knowing
how much they might be blaming her for Hugh's sudden illness; and the added
trouble and anxiety his sickness necessarily caused, left no time for the
Gurney girls to run in with a report of his condition. Consequently, when
Lancy appeared about nine o'clock in the evening, Dexie's eyes asked the
question her lips had not power to form.

"Hugh is no better--worse, if possible," and Lancy's face was as white as
Dexie's own. "He keeps calling for you in his delirium; he seems to think
you are drowned or worse, and reaches out to catch you. It takes two to
hold him sometimes."

"Oh, Lancy! am I to blame?" she said, bursting into tears. "I have had such
a horrible day with my thoughts. I don't see how I could help it; yet it
was my fault, I suppose."

"Well, under the circumstances, I don't see how you could have done
differently, Dexie; but don't fret about it. It is an uncomfortable affair
all round, to be sure. I can't help feeling proud of you the way you braved
it out rather than give your promise; but, of course, it was hard on Hugh."

"Does your mother know anything about my part of the affair?"

"Oh, yes! I told her all about it. Hugh raved so, I had to explain what I
knew about the trouble. She guessed quickly enough that something had
happened between you."

"And the doctor?"

"Oh! he knows about it too, and he wants to know if you will come in, if
they find they cannot quiet him. Oh, Hugh will not know you," he added,
looking into her frightened face; "but the doctor thinks you might get him
to sleep if you would be willing to try it."

"Oh, dear! I don't want to go near him; but I suppose I must, if there is
any chance of convincing him that I am safe, after all."

The doctor looked up in surprise when Dexie appeared in the room with Mrs.
Gurney a short time after. Was it this slip of a girl that had wrought such
mischief?

"So this is _your_ work," and he waved his hand towards the bed.

Dexie flashed an angry look at him, saying in a low voice:

"I beg your pardon, sir, I think Mr. McNeil can blame himself and no one
else. What can I do, Mrs. Gurney?"

Hugh was tossing about in restless delirium, muttering broken sentences;
and the piteous cry of "Dexie! oh, Dexie!" rang through the room.

"Speak to him; perhaps he will realize you are here," said Mrs. Gurney.

The doctor placed a chair by the bedside for her, then stood by the foot of
the bed, watching.

"I never meant it, Dexie; I would not throw you over for worlds; forgive
me."

Dexie knew that the memory of the scene on the roof was troubling his mind,
and the anguish depicted on Hugh's face brought such a lump into her throat
that she could not speak a word.

"Come back into the boat with me; I'll promise to take you home," he cried.

The doctor eyed Dexie sternly.

"Speak to him," he said, sharply.

"I am here, Mr. McNeil. I have come back safe and well. Try to sleep."

Her voice seemed to pierce the troubled brain, and his face lost much of
its troubled look.

"Sing something, Dexie," said Mrs. Gurney, "and perhaps he will sleep. He
has not been quiet since they brought him home," and, bending down, said
softly, "Try, Dexie. I know it is hard for you, but if he will sleep it
will be almost the saving of him. You will do this for me, I know."

"Nearer, my God, to Thee; nearer to Thee."

It was almost a whisper, but it soon had a visible effect on Hugh, and in
half an hour the doctor's curt words, "You may go now," were more welcome
than the sweetest praise.

As the fever ran its course, Dexie was frequently called to Hugh's
bedside. How she dreaded those visits, yet stern duty forbade her to
refuse, as her heart often prompted.

Dexie soon saw that she was not in the doctor's good graces, for as Hugh
revealed the past, in broken and disjointed sentences, it gave him the
impression that she had been trifling with Hugh's affections, and she
resented the tone he assumed when speaking to her. However, as the days
passed, and the doctor learned the real truth of the matter, he began to
look at Dexie with less disfavor; but the inquisitive manner with which he
now regarded her was not less objectionable.

"You will marry him yet," the doctor said one night as he watched his
patient through his wildest hours.

Dexie, who was sitting near the window, turned in surprise at the
unlooked-for remark.

"Yes, my word for it, Miss Sherwood, you will marry him yet, after all the
fuss you have made over your refusal."

"Never!" The reply was low, but intense. "I know my own mind, I guess! I
would not stay in the same room with him, though he is unconscious of my
presence, only Mrs. Gurney imagines he is less restless when I am near, and
she is anxious about his recovery."

"Oh! you need not tell _me_! I have heard of such cases before now. I have
seen your eyes full of pity as you have watched beside him with Mrs.
Gurney."

"Perhaps so; but not with the 'pity that is akin to love,' by any means,"
and as Mrs. Gurney returned to the room, she bowed a stiff good-night to
the doctor and went home.

After days of anxiety the fever reached its height, and there was not a
more anxious heart in the house that day than Dexie's own.

As she went about her daily household duties, she mentally pictured to
herself what might happen in case of the worst. Would she be blamed for his
death? and what would become of all Hugh's money?

She speculated as to how he had willed it, and wondered what were the
contents of the letter Hugh had written to her father before that
afternoon's sail. She hoped she would not be summoned again to the
sick-room. But she was not to have that wish, for late in the evening Lancy
came in to bring her over at once.

"The doctor says the next hour will decide whether he lives or not, and he
wants you to be near in case you are needed in a hurry."

Towards midnight Hugh opened his eyes and recognized Mrs. Gurney, who was
bending over him; and as he turned his face and saw the doctor also, he
said, in a faint voice:

"What is the matter? Why am I here?"

"You have been sick, Hugh," said Mrs. Gurney, taking his hand; "do not
talk."

"But I thought--I thought--I was in a boat," he said, faintly, and a
puzzled look came over his face. "I was looking--for someone--or I was
dreaming."

"You must not talk; try not to think itself," said the doctor, as he held
some medicine to his lips. "You have been dreaming, no doubt; but try not
to think about it any more."

Hugh was quiet for some minutes; memory was slowly returning; but at last
the past all came back, and, casting an imploring glance into the doctor's
face, said:

"Tell me! I remember it all now--I was searching for Dexie--is she safe?"

"Yes, safe and well, so make your mind easy."

"If I could--only feel--sure--"

"Will you bring me that pitcher of water, Miss Sherwood?"

The doctor's voice was low, but distinct, and an eager light came into
Hugh's face as he heard the name.

"Pour a little into this glass," the doctor added.

As Dexie came near at the doctor's direction, Hugh looked up, and for one
short moment their eyes met.

But that moment assured Hugh that Dexie was safe; that was all he could
comprehend at present, for he was too weak to ask any more questions. Dexie
could not bear the strain much longer, so, bending over Mrs. Gurney, she
whispered:

"Tell me I may go, if only into the next room. I cannot bear it."

"Just a moment more, Miss Sherwood," the doctor whispered, overhearing the
request "Help me a moment here," he said aloud, "and then you may retire."

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