Corona of the Nantahalas, a romance

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COROiNA

OF THE

NANTAHALAS

^ ^omaujcje

BY

LOUIS PENDLETON

AUTHOR OF "the SONS OF HAM," " THE WEDDING GARMENT,"

"in THE WIRE-GRASS,'' "KING TOM AND THE

RUNAWAYS," ETC.

NEW YORK:
THE MERRIAM COMPANY

67 Fifth Avente.

Copyright, 189s,
By THE MERRIAM COMPANY.

CORONA OF THE NANTA-

HALAS.

I.

GiDEOiT McLeod liad lived, from child-
hood up, in the K"orth Carolina mountains,
as had his father before him ; but it was not
until the year 1864, when the conscript
officers, under the spur of necessity, became
unusually active, that he removed into the
fastnesses of the wild Nantahalas. The
mountaineers as a class were notoriously
indifferent to the issues of the war, and
Gideon McLeod was no exception to the
rule. With his childless wife and such of
his belongings as could well be transported,
he retired from view at the first note of
-^alarm, and was seen no more.

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CO

2 Corona of the Nantahalas,

The refuge he had selected was a sheltered
nook or cove high up in. the mouutains,
and fully fifteen miles remote from any
other human dwelling-place. Here a rude
cabin was built, and gradually a few acres
of ground were cleared. At the outset it
vras the intention of the refugees eventually
to return to the lower valley and the neigh-
bourhood of their friends, but time passed,
and they remained where they were. The
war was over long before they knew of its
termination, and their desire to return had
meanwhile weakened. Sensitive at first
because they hud had no children — a cala-
mity almost unheard of among their prolific
neighbours — their alienation was intensified
later on, when a son was born to them,
who by-and-by proved to be both deaf and
dumb.

So the seasons came and went, and the
McLeods thought no more of leaving their
hiding-place. The husband gradually
cleared more land, ploughed his fields, sowed
and harvested his crops. The wife spun
and wove, kept her house, and watched the
boy, who, despite his sad afiliction, was
none the less her joy and pride. They
were simple, unschooled folk, to begin with,

Corona of the NantaJialas. 3

born in the lonely mountains/ and were
contented and happy in their solitary situa-
tion to a degree quite inconceivable from
our point of view. A few times a year
Gideon McLeod descended to the settle-
ment in the lower valley, in order to procure
certain necessaries, such transportation as
he required being accomplished by means
of a pack-mule. A mountain bridle-path
was as yet the only highway. And this
was tlieir sole communication with their
kind.

As the years passed, as he made addi-
tions to his house and became more com-
fortable, and as he saw his few sheep and
cattle develop into considerable flocks and
herds, Gideon McLeod gave thanks that
the wherewithal of life was within his grasp.
He had no money and needed none. The
few farm implements and articles of house-
hold use purchased now and then in the
lower valley were all paid for in hides and
furs, fruit of the hunting and trapping of
leisure hours. The wild mountains were
his kingdom. The outside world might go
to war, or be wasted with pestilence or with
famine ; he was free and independent of it
all.

4 Corona of the Nantahalas.

Ifc was when the boy, whom they had
named Dan, was about five years old that
an event occurred which was the beginning
of a new epoch in their lives.

Gideon McLeod was walking in the forest
on the slope of the mountain below his
farm, one af Lernoon, when his attention was
attracted to a very unusual sound — the
sound of horse-hoofs on the flinty path
leading down toward the lower valley. He
was at once stirred with curiosity and
wonder, perhaps even with something of
alarm. Concealing himself behind a tree,
he awaited the appearance of the horse on
that portion of the path in view from where
he stood.

No one in the lower valley ever toiled up
to Lonely Cove, either on business or to
make a social visit, and if this were a
stranger from other parts, what could be his
object ? If the perplexed mountaineer had
guessed for a whole year, he would not have
anticipated what he saw.

In a few moments a horseman appeared
and drew rein, horse and rider thus being
thrown in relief against the opposite green
wall of trees. Gideon McLeod saw at a
glance that the horse was a fine animal.

Corona of the Nantahalas. 5

though wet with sweat and travel-stained,
and that the rider was not a mountaineer,
but wore the clothes and had the air of a
man of the outside world. He was young
in years, too, and of a handsome face, but
distinguished by a curious wildness of the
eye. McLeod's next discovery was that
the strange young man's right arm sup-
ported a little child, whose wavy, flowing
hair of light gold was all entangled with
twigs and leaves, as if from hurried and
reckless travelling through pathless forests.
Evidently the child was asleep from sheer
exhauston.

These observations were scarcely made
before the horseman turned at right angles
and entered a little open glade between the
path and the tree behind which McLeod
was hidden. It was seen, now, that he was
communing Avith himself, and, as he halted,
these words were distinctly audible :

*^ Shelley, Shelley, Shelley is a skylark,
a cloud, a sensitive plant, a monster, a king
of the fiends. He is thrice blessed and four
times damned. He juggles with death and
glorifies hell. He brings ^ight shade for
the leaves when laid in their noonday
dreams.' And I — I am an oak, and around

6 Corona of the NantaJialas.

me twined my dearest, my loved one, my
little, little vine; and he took her from me,
this king of the fiends. He tore her from
my arms and twined her in his own- he
bound her and held her, and recked not
that she wailed. And between them anon
up rose Valouette, the skylark fair, the sweet,
wee bird, the sensitive plant, beneath the
old tree; she came into life and wept and
grew free till 'twas a maddening thing to
see — ah! a damned thing to see. And I
said to the king of the fiends, come and see
if we can better agree when a sword judges
'twixt us three! And I held him hard and
slew him that day — I laughed as I slew him
that day; and cared not that my vine
still clung to his clay, stained with the
blood "

Suddenly breaking the thread of his in-
coherent soliloquy, the strange man sj)rang
to the ground. The shock awakened the
child, and it began to cry. Gideon McLeod
expected to see it tenderly hushed and com-
forted, but the stranger did not even look
at it, and walking a few steps away, he set
it down carelessly.

" Now let the blood flow blithe and free,
blithe and free," he muttered returning.

Corona of the NantaJialas. J

Gideon McLeod could not believe that he
saw aright as the strange man drew a pistol
and, after looking furtively around, cocked
it, and placed the muzzle against the head
of the horse. Surely the whole thing must
be a dream. The next moment there was
a loud report, and the poor, unsuspecting
animal fell to the ground. Then for some
moments the slayer stood still, and, with a
wild, indescribable glare of the eye, looked
down upon the last struggles of his noble
victim. Was there ever a deed so cold-
blooded, useless, infamous ? Gideon Mc-
Leod's eyes flaslied fire.

Turning toward the child and recocking
his weapon, the madman spoke again, in
the same monotonous, swinging style:

"And now, Valouette^ the wee, wee bird,
the sensitive plant, the sweet fiend's child,
the skylark blithe and free, must follow,
must follow downward to the sea — the
sea of red blood which flows from me.
Then I — even I — will plunge into the
deep; in oblivion's red gulf my soul will I
steep."

The observer foresaw nothing from these
mad utterances, but the stranger's actions
lie could not mistake. At sight of the

8 Corona of the Nantahalas.

struggling horse the chikl had. begun cry-
ing piteouslj, and the mountaineer's heart
smote him as he listened. If need be, he
would fight for its protection. Suddenly
the pistol was raised, but instantly was
lowered; the assassin, mad though he might
be, seemed unable to forget that his pro-
posed victim was a little child. By this
time Gideon McLeod was trembling in
every limb. He knew what was coming
and prepared himself. His long rifle was
raised and careful aim taken.

''11 you shoot, I'll kill you!" he called
out from bis place.

The madman started and glanced about
him, failing to locate the voice. Then,
quick as a flash, he raised the pistol and
fired. The one report was followed so
closely by another that the two sounded
as one. But the results were far diffe-
rent. The child remained unhurt, the
ball passing to one side; but the man
dropped his weapon, fell heavily back-
ward against a tree, and collapsed to a
sitting posture, glaring about him and
muttering.

Gideon McLeod had rushed forward, full
of horror at what he had done. Making

Corona of the Nmttahalas, 9

sure that the child was unharmed, he ap-
proached the wounded man.

•^'Ahl 'tis he — 'tis he — the king of the
fiends," cried the madman, fiercely, as their
eyes met. '^'Tis Clarence, * false, fleet-
ing, perjured Clarence that stabbed me
i' the field by Tewksbury ! ' Out of my
sight, thou craven ! Get thee hence, base
fellow "

A sudden sense of pain seemed to inter-
rupt him; he started, paused, as though
groping for his words, then groaned: *' Oh,
I am wounded to death ! "

^'^God knows I didn't want to shoot you,"
cried Gideon McLeod, sorrowfully. '* But I
couldn't help it. You was a-shootin' that
innocent baby, and you can't blame me.
What in the devil ailed you, man ? "

With tears in his eyes, the mountaineer
stood before his victim, speaking earnestly
in his desire to justify himself. The wild
glare of the wounded man's eyes faded out
of them, slowly giving place to a glimmer-
ing of reason.

*' I was mad — crazy, do you understand ?"
he articulated, huskily and painfully, for he
was now weakening fast. " I wanted to
kill — to kill — the child — and then — myself.

10 Corona of the NantaJialas.

Take — her — send — write " A gush of

blood from the throat choked his utter-
ance ; his head sank upon his breast, his
body fell over on its side, and he became
unconscious.

Gideon McLeod bent over and examined
him. The shirt front was soaked with
blood, indicating that the wound was there.
The rude mountaineer was amazed at the
fineness of the linen and underclothinof,
but his attention quickly centred on the
wound. The ball had entered the breast
and pierced a vital part, for in a few
moments it was quite clear that the man
was dead.

The child had ceased its cries, and stared
at the mountaineer in a hungry, wistful way,
as though it desired to be taken up by
this unexpected and unknown friend. But
Gideon McLeod looked only at the dead.
A great fear fell upon him. He had killed
a man. In his own heart he believed him-
self blameless, but who else w^ould believe
it ? Who could be found to credit the
attempted murder of that fair and innocent
child ? Assuredly the man was mad, as he
himself had claimed ; but was he mad
when he parted with his friends, and would

Corona of the Nantahalas. 1 1

not those friends be coming presently to
demand a reckoning ?

At this thought the mountaineer leaped
forward and darted into the woods. The
friends of the dead w^ere coming ; they
must be very near by this time. Perhaps
they were near enough to hear him as he
ran. What an uproar the dried leaves
made as they scattered before his feet, and
how strangely loud was the cracking of the
brittle twigs I He ran faster. The over-
hanging branches whipped" him rudely
across the face, and the underbrush seemed
to strive to seize his flying body. Bursting
into thickets of laurel, it seemed to him
that at every leap he stumbled and was"
thrown back.

All at once the fleeing man heard a cry,
and halted, breathless. Ah, they had come
— and in another minute they would be on
his track I The cry was heard again, more
distinctly than before — the wailing cry of
a little child, maltreated, forgotten, and
deserted.

Gideon McLeod turned red with shame,
and thought no more of flight. He had
risked too much for that child to think of
deserting it now. Let them come, and if

12 Corona of the Nayitahalas,

they refused to believe his story, he would
defend his life as best he could, and trust in
God. Eetracing his steps with all speed,
he spoke soothingly to the babe, lifted it
tenderly, and bore it to his home. As the
child ceased to sob, and shut its tiny fingers
around his thumb in a trustful way, the
heart of the rough mountaineer was deeply
moved.

Mrs. McLeod stood in the doorway, her
eyes distended with amazement, as her
husband approached.

^'What in the name o' ," she said,

and stopped, unable to find words.

'Tve killed a man, Polly," she heard
her husband saying in a voice strangely
calm, '^ but I done it fur this little one. God
knows it wa'n't fur nothin' else."

He stood on the ground below her, with
his burden, and told his story. She
listened motionless, without a word, her
distended eyes riveted upon him till he had
finished. For one brief while she doubted,
as indeed she well might. Who could be-
lieve such a story?

'* Did you kill that man to git the child,
Gid?" she asked at last, terror on her face,
although her speech was calm. "Did you

Corona of the NantaJialas. 13

go and do that 'caze I hain't brought you
no child that could talk ? "

ti ^ell — Polly ! "' he exclaimed, deeply
wounded. '* After ten years and better you
can't take my word ! "

He mounted the steps and passed by her
into the house, placing the child on a bed,
and covering it up. She stood back and
allowed him to do all this, woman's work
as it was. She was in no hurry to relieve
him of his charge, which she feared was the
price of blood.

The child fell asleep almost at once, and
the mountaineer turned away. He went
outside again and stood by the steps, pon-
dering. The wife then stepped to the bed
and took one long look, afterwards return-
ing and standing in the doorway again,
looking anxiously at her husband.

Gideon McLeod stood there twenty min-
utes before he decided what to do. Gradu-
ally it became clear to him that the dead
man's friends were not to be expected
at once, for during all this time there had
been nothing to herald their approach.
Most likely the madman had had no com-
panions in the first place, and had ridden
to the mountains alone with the child.

14 Corona of the Nantahalas.

Then, for the present, there was no fear,
But the sun was low, darkness would soon
fall, and then the wolves would come forth
from their retreats. The body could not
be left on the ground all night. A sugges-
tion of prudence warned the mountaineer
that the sooner all reminders of the tragedy-
were removed the better. Six months some-
times passed at Lonely Cove without wit-
nessing the visit of even a strolling hunter,
but no one could tell what a day might
bring forth.

With this. thought in mind, Gideon Mc-
Leod went to a stable a short distance in
the rear of his house, secured ropes, bridled
his mule, and led him forth.

^'Come on now and look for yourself,"
he said' to his wife, rather distantly. **ril
be bound when you see that horse you won't
think / killed him."

'^ Oh, Gideon," returned the woman, brok-
enly, " I believe you. Don't think hard o'
me. I was jes' turrified."

He insisted, however, and she meekly
followed him, after shutting the door. The
distance was hardly a quarter of a mile,
and they were soon there. Nothing had
been disturbed, and not a sound broke the

CoronR of the Nantahalas. 1 5

stillness of the primeyal forest. The moun-
taineer pointed to the stiffening horse, then
lifted the body of the man and put it on
the mule's back, strapping it there with the
ropes. Thus they returned home.

II.

The most careful search revealed no card,
letter, or scrap of paper in any of the dead
man's pockets, and for the present it was im-
possible to establish his identity. Sixty
dollars in notes were found, however, and
a linen handkerchief with the letters *' H.M."
embroidered in one corner with white silk
thread. Also on one of the garments worn
by the child the word ^* Corona " was found,
similarly embroidered. After a consulta-
tion, it was decided to tie the money up in
the handkerchief and put it in a safe place,
to be carefully kept for the future use of the
child.

Gideon McLeod set to work at once, and
in less than two hours' time had constructed
a rough coffin, in which he placed the body
and nailed it up. The sun had now set,
but he did not pause. Selecting a spot in

Corona of the Nantahalas. ly

the woods not far away, he began digging
a grave — completing the work by the light
of a torch held by his wife. The house
meanwhile was shut up, the two children
being asleep, while the dead lay at rest on
the porch without. An hour or so after
nightfall the weary mountaineer lifted the
coffin to his shoulder, and staggered be-
neath it to the grave, preceded by his wife,
who carried a torch in one hand, a small
copy of the Bible in the other.

**It don't seem human, Gid, to bury him
without readin' an' prayin'," she said, and
he agreed.

Having placed his burden in the bottom
of the grave, Gideon McLeod opened the
Book, made a hasty selection, and read
aloud for a brief space. His wife listened
with the tears streaming down her face.
Then he recited a familiar prayer, and it
was over. The earth was rapidly shovelled
in, a slight mound raised, and a stake
driven down to mark the place.

" Now, if anybody comes, there ain't
nuthin' fur 'em to see," he said with relief,
as they returned to the house.

In the morning, however, he thought it
well to descend to the scene of the tragedy

1 8 Corona of the Nantahalas.

and carry a spade. As he had expected,
nothing was left of the horse but a few
bloody bones. These were soon buried
out of sight, even the fresh earth being
covered with dead leaves. The same day
a heavy rain fell, obliterating all traces of
what had taken place, and Gideon McLeod
drew a long breath of relief.

After the lapse of days, weeks, months,
without a warning of the coming of the
dead man's friends in search of him, the
mountaineer gradually ceased to dread
their arrival and their questions, and he
saw that it rested with him to keep the
secret for a lifetime if he chose. He could
either contrive to advertise the lost child,
and so restore it to its home, or do nothing,
bringing it up as his own.

After much uneasiness of mind, he chose
the latter as the only safe course. He pitied
the bereft mother, if a living mother there
were, and Avould gladly have returned to
her her own, could he have known where
to find her; bnt to make the matter public
would be to declare himself a homicide —
some might say a murderer — and he could
not persuade himself to do this. Besides,
the difficulties of an investigation would be

Corona of the Nantahalas. 19

greater than he felt that he could success-
fully undertake.

After all, the little girl owed her life to
him. But for his interference the mother
would have been more truly bereft than
now ; and he thought that this claim to a
large degree justified his course. He saw
that his position was impregnable, if he
ehose to make it so ; it was within his
power to say and maintain that the child
was his own. No one could disprove it
for he and his wife had lived absolutely
alone and remote. J^o eye but theirs had
seen the child until the clothes worn on
the day of its arrival had been laid care-
fully away and replaced by others, of Mrs.
McLeod^s own making. The little waif
was now apparently between two and three
years old. Let a year or two pass, and she
could scarcely be recognized by her own
family. The prompt exchange of clothing,
however, was accomplished less as a matter
of concealment than as a precaution in-
suring the means of a possible future iden-
tification.

AjDparently delicate at first, the child
soon began to thrive in the mountain air,
developing into a bright, happy-hearted,

20 Corona of the Nantahalas.

docile little girl, strong of limb and beautiful
of feature, the light of the mountaineer's
eye, an ever-cheering companion to bis
wife through her lonely hours, and the un-
failing delight of the deaf mute Dan, who
was always her willing and obedient slave.
She was early taught to call her adopted
parents uncle and aunt, and grew up igno-
rant that these titles were a mere form.
The McLeods supposed that the word
" Corona," embroidered on one of the little
garments now laid away, was the child's
baptismal name ; but found it too difficult
and strange for daily use, choosing rather
to call their charge Anna.

The infantile impressions of her past life
were soon effaced from little Corona's mind,
and the surround! nsrs of her mountain home
assumed sole dominion in her memory.
When she was five years old, and Dan was
eight, a sense of responsibility began to
weigh on Gideon MeLeod ; he felt that
household training was not enough, and
that something should be done looking
toward the education of the two children.
Little could be made of Dan, of course,
owing to his infirmity, but much might be
done for Corona.

Corona of the Nantalialas. 21

The mountaineer was a man of few words,
and no book learning beyond a slight ac-
quaintance with the ^' three E's," but he
meant well, and the beginning that he
made could not have been improved on.
This beginning was the reading aloud, each
evening, of a chapter from the historical
parts of the Bible. Poor Dan could hear
nothing; but Corona's manifest pleasure,
as she gradually began to follow with com-
prehension, was a continuing delight to
him, and he never failed to sit beside her
as she listened, just as if he understood
everything.

A year or two later a primer and a little
reader were procured from the store in the
lower valley, lessons were given by the
husband now and then in the evening, and
by the wife more often in the afternoons;
and in the course of a year both books were
mastered.

It was when Corona was ten or eleven
that a schoolmaster came to the lower
valley to spend a summer vacation. He
was not a teacher of the mountaineer type,
but a man of considerable attainment, who
taught Greek and Latin in a select Carolina
school. Gideon McLeod liked his looks.

22 Corona of the Nantahalas.

and one day sought him out and made
an extraordinary proposition. He said,
in substance, that he had sixty dollars
to expend on his niece's education, and
wished to secure the best talent he
could find. If the schoolmaster would
spend two vacations at Lonely Cove, and
instruct the girl daily, the money was
his. The offered salary, in more parti-
cular terms, was ten dollars a month and
board.

The schoolmaster smiled at the naivete
of the proposal, but he was poor, un-
married, and unwell ; he needed the moun-
tain air, and after some reflection signified
his willingness to accept. Thus was the
money found in the pockets of the dead
man expended, and in this wise was Corona
taught to speak, read and write English
with ease and intelligence.

So unusual was her progress, and such
was the schoolmaster's affection for her,
that he felt moved to promise her another
summer's instruction gratis; but before the
time arrived they were informed of his
death. The letter carrying this intelli-
gence also informed them that be had left
certain of his favourite books to Corona,

Corona of the Nantahalas. 23

and in due time the package made its ap-
pearance in the lower valley. This being
carried up on the mule's back to Lonely
Cove, and opened, a curious collection was
displayed — considering that the books
were intended for a young girl. There was
no single volume more modern than
Shakespeare. Most of them were transla-
tions of Hesiod, Homer, ^Eschylus, Sopho-
cles, Plato, Ovid, Virgil, and the Greek
historians — Herodotus, Thucydides, and
Xenophon.

Corona began to read these books at
thirteen, and in the course of time read and
re-read them all, obliged at first to pass
blindly over the words that were new to
her, but going on, always going on, and
receiving vivid, ineffaceable impressions.
And here began new perplexities for
Gideon McLeod and his wife. Corona
asked a thousand questions, which they
could not answer — abou goddesses, denw-
gods, heroes, dryads, centaurs, satyrs, and
so forth, in unending catalogue. Mrs.
McLeod answered gravely that she had
never '* hearn tell " of any of these things,
and she was pretty sure they were not to be
found anywhere in North Carolina, but they

24 ■ Corona of the Nantakalas.

might haye 'em across tlie mountains in
Tennessee ; she really could not speak for
Tennessee. People had often told her
that the latter was the last place in the
world to live in — the *' jumpin' off place/'
so to speak, and there was no telling
what might be found there. Being asked
where Greece was, Gideon McLeod, who
had never heard of that country, replied
that all he knew about it was that it was
usually in the frying-pan at hog-killing
time.

Her questions remaining unanswered.
Corona's imagination supplied answers for
herself, and it was a strange world which
she constructed. As she grew older, the
girl became more and more devoted to the
schoolmaster's books, and the gradual effect
of these ancient authors upon a thirsty and
virgin mind may be imagined. Without
instruction, intellectual companionship, or
sympathy, without a modern book, periodi-
cal, or newspaper, with nothing about her
but wild mountains and forests, and a
lonely frontier farm, she inevitably came to
live more and more in a world of fancy — a
world built upon old Greek forms, tempered
by the more modern ShakesiDeare, and

Corona of the Nantahalas. 25

coloured but little by the realities of her
actual human environment.

It is not meant that she became silent,
peculiar, or impractical. She was as human
as she was beautiful, and never forgot her
affection for, and her duty toward, her
three companions at Lonely Cove. While
her hands were engaged at the spinning-
wheel or the loom, her thoughts might
indeed wander off into her fantastic world ;
she might fall to wondering whether the
wood and water nymphs, which had so
long eluded her search, were abroad in the
forest to-day, laughing and singing and
scattering the dry twigs before their feet as
they ran through the long leafy aisles. But
meanwhile her household work was not
left undone. She became remarkably deft
with the needle, and after some failures
learned to fashion for herself a number of
wonderful Greek gowns, designed from the
illustrations in her beloyed books, and
made of white or scarlet wool woven and
dyed by her own hands.

She and the deaf mute Dan were de-
voted friends, and had long ago learned to
communicate their thoughts, in a measure,
by signs. They were as venturous and

26 Corona of the Nantahalas.

bold as any two boys, wandering together
or alone in the pathless forests far from
home, and fearing nothing. They climbed
the highest peaks and looked down on the
clouds, caring not if the dark mists en-
Teloped them, if the lightning blazed about
them, or if the thunder shook the ground
on which they stood. There was nothing
in all this to frighten or distress these verit-
able children of nature.

The three highest points near their home
were renamed Olympus, Parnassus, and
Helicon, and much of their leisure was
spent upon these peaks and in the spaces
between. Strong of limb, light of foot, and
tireless, such mountain climbing was to
them as play. Oftentimes they were
followed on their tramps by two tame
deer, captured long ago when very young,
which Corona had of late begun to call
lo and Atalanta. And, to complete the
classic outline, they w^ould sometimes run
hard-fought races, and the victorious Dan
would be crowned with a wreath of leaves
of the mountain laurel.

By the time Corona was seventeen the
occasional hunter who looked in on Lonely
Cove had spread the fame of her unusual

Corona of the Nantahalas. 27

beauty, and during the following two or
three years one suitor after another ap-
peared from among the young mountain-
eers of the lower valley — finding their way
up the mountain path early on Sunday
morning, spending the day, and returning
the same night. One after another they
grew discouraged, and abandoned the diffi-
cult undertaking. Corona took no inter-
est in them after their first appearance.
She was by no means unkind ; it was
merely that she could not adapt herself to
them, that they appeared to her, as it were,
a species far removed ; and when she spoke,
her words only seemed to fill them with
wonder and strike them dumb.

If they persisted, she did not scruple,
finally, to leave them to be entertained by
the elders, slipping away with a favourite
book, and making good her retreat to the
topmost peak of Helicon or Parnassus, fol-
lowed by Dan.

'^ He mought as well go barkin' up an-
other tree," Gideon McLeod would say
with a laugh, as each suitor appeared and
assumed the regulation '"'courtin'" atti-
tude. The girl's manifest indifference in no
way alarmed her adopted parents. They

28 Corona of the Nantahalas.

loved her, were proud of her, and were
in no hurry to see her marry an uncouth
mountaineer, or even — had they been ac-
quainted with one — a prince of the blood
himself.

III.

For years it was Corona's supposition that
Lonely Cove was not very far removed,
either by time or space, from ancient Greece —
that one important country and civilization
to which nearly all of her books referred.
She knew nothing of the lapse of ages, of
the story of the rise and fall of successive
empires. She had only the Greece that
was pictured in her books, and the moun-
tains that loomed before her eyes. It was
clear enough that Shakespeare wrote of
another period, but there was no history of
the middle age at hand, and she was unable
to fill the gap.

Her mountains were in a ^' State" called
Carolina, she well knew, and beyond them
there was another called Tennessee. She
occasionally heard the expression *' United
States," and had a general idea of an indefi-

30 Corona of the Nantahalas,

nite number of Oarolinas and Tennessees
joined in some sort of union. And this
was all. The schoolmaster had failed to
teach her anything of geography or history,
devoting his time, as well he might, to
teaching her to speak and write correctly,
and to read with intelligent comprehension,
so far as was possible.

There was, therefore, really nothing of
the marvellous in the result that followed.
Corona even wondered if the people of the
outside world dressed like the Greeks. The
Carolina mountaineers did not, so far as
she had seen, but that proved nothing, for
they were ignorant people as a class, doing
nothing but raise sheep and till the ground,
and having some characteristics that sug-
gested comparison with the Spartan Helots.
She recollected that the schoolmaster had
not worn the Greek costume, but there may
have been some reason for that also.

One day she chanced to overhear McLeod
saying to his wife that she was not akin to
them. Going forward at once she asked
what this meant, and they were obliged to
reaffirm what she had alreadv heard. In
reply to her eager questions as to where
she had come from, they briefly replied

Corona of the Nantahalas. 3 1

that thev had found her iu the forest,
and, being urged to do so, indicated the
spot.

This knowledge was the text for many
strange fancies. The girl wondered if she
had ever had any parents at all — if she had
not been born of the forests and mountains,
as the wood nymphs were. For Corona
was almost a pagan. She had not indeed
foi'ofotten the stories read to her from the
Bible in early life, nor what she had learned
from it for herself. She believed there was
one great God, the creator of the world and
of mankind; but she supposed that the
gods of the Greeks existed also, and, in a
vague, uncertain way, thought of them as
being in s.ome sort one and the same with
the angels of the Scriptures.

The prophets had seen the angels and
the Greeks had seen the gods. Corona
sometimes found herself wishing and hoping
that she, too, might be allowed to see one
or the other, or both — if indeed the two
were distinct orders of beings. Many a
time, as she walked forth in the forest alone,
her fancy went before her and revelled in
the bright presence of an angel or a god;
and when the dream was not realized she

32 Corona of the NantaJialas.

did not lose faith, but told herself that she
was unworthy of such honour.

Untouched as she was by the all-per-
vading doubt and scepticism of the modern
world, there was the more opportunity for
the development of her unquestioning beliefs
and persuasions. Kepeated disappoint-
ments failed to disturb her confidence, and
she still dreamed of seeing a dryad, or at
least a water nymph. Many a day she
stole through the forest with bated breath,
or sat watching beside the roaring mountain
torrent, which she had named Simois — in
vain, always in vain.

One day in early summer for an instant
she was almost convinced that her wish
had been granted. She was now turned
nineteen, and was tall and full of grace of
movement. Her face was unusually per-
fect in outline, and rich colour came and
went in her rounded cheek. Her eyes were
of the darkest brown, large, pensive, tender,
and her whole expression was remarkable
for a deep, dreaming wistfullness. Her dark,
shining hair, long and wave-like, was now
bound up in that conical pyramid so favoured
by the women of Greece. Her head was
crowned by a fillet of laurel leaves, and she

Corona of the Nantahalas. 33

wore one of those graceful robes of scarlet
wool which she had learned to fashion so
well. It was mid afternoon and she had
gone forth to walk alone, a book in her
hand.

The mountain forests were gay with the
bloom of early summer. The fresh, light
green of the poplars, maples, and beeches
mingled in uncertain and irregular variation
on the rising heights with the darker hue
of the hemlocks and pines. The gardens
of white birches were as light against the
darkness of the funereal black balsams.
Tender ferns grew in myriads, and yivid
patches of colour were contributed here and
there by rhododendrons and azaleas.

Corona paused where a tiny stream gushed
forth from the rocky soil, and sent a little
rill to join the roaring Simois. The place
was in full view of that other spot which
she knew so well and had visited so often —
the spot where she had been found as a
child. Gideon McLeod avoided it for
reasons of h"s own, but it possessed for
Corona a strong fascination. Here had
been ihe scene of her mystical birth ; here
her celestial guardians had set her down
within reach of those kind earthly guardians

34 Corona of the Nantahalas,

who had taken her in and cared for her so
well. Here, if anywhere, she fancied, would
the former be pleased to manifest them-
selves to her.

As this thought took shape in her mind,
the girl heard the stroke of a horse's hoofs
on the rocky path, just where Gideon
McLeod had heard the same sound sixteen
years ago ; but the vision which shortly
presented itself was a far different one from
that of a madman and a babe. Wiiat she
saw was a young man of unusual physical
beauty, clothed in a soft wool cap, a light
silk outing shirt, and a coat and trousers of
cream-coloured flannel. This could scarcely
be a god, but might it not be one of the
heroes, in spite of the strange apparel so
unlike the Greek ? At the least he was a
part of that great unknown outside world,
so different from her mountains, and Corona
gazed enrapt.

The young man saw her, dismounted,
threw the bridle over his arm, and ap-
proached, believing he had found the object
of his quest. He was on the look-out for
that wonderful girl of the Xantahalas who
was said to be "as Avise as a sage and as
beautiful as a dream," and assuredly this

Corona of the Nantahalas. 35

was she of whom he had heard — this tall
sylvan goddess in a scarlet Greek robe,
with a fillet of leaves round her head and
a book in her hand. There could not be
two such extraordinary persons in the same
region.

''May I have a drink?" he asked, with
smilino^ face and uncovered head, as he
stepped forward.

He marked a certain gravity and stateli-
ness in her acknowledgment of his salute,
but saw no lack of friendliness in her
face. As she answered, he was struck
by the engaging qiiaintness of her accent
and dialect, in which latter he soon re-
cognizee! a peculiar mingling of moun-
tain idioms with many archaic words and
phrases. Such a dialect, if reproduced,
would seem stilted and unnatural at best
and may with profit be left to the imagi-
nation.

Stooping, Corona dipped up water for
tlie stranger in the rude cup which belonged
to the spring. While he drank, after thank-
ing her, she thought of the meeting of
Nausicaa and Odysseus.

''Have I reached Mr. McLeod's?" he
asked.

36 Corojia of the Nantahalas.

"It is not far — up there," she auswered,
pointing. "I will show you the way."

" You do not live there?"

"I have alwavs lived there. Mr. McLeod
is my uncle." She checked herself, re-
collecting that the relationship was not
real.

"My name is Henry Summerfield," the
young man pursued, as an introduction.

*'llike your name," she said innocently,
as he paused. "Did they give it to you
because they expected you to be as beauti-
ful as the fields in summer? " The w^ords
were those of a jest, but her face was wholly
serious .

"I hope not," said Summerfiel'd, asto-
nished, his handsome face a broad smile.
"They were doomed to disappointment
in that case. And may I know your
name?"

"They call me Anna, but Coronals my
name," she answered simply, unaware that
her failure to mention a surname excited
surprise.

"That means a crown — a name proper
to a queen among women," he said with
somewhat effusive gallantry. He felt that
he was at liberty to say almost anything

Corona of the Nantahalas. 37

that was not unkind ; nature and not eti-
quette ruled here.

^^ Where did you come from ?" she asked,
turning to lead the way up the slope. " You
do not belong to the mountains. You are
not like the mountain people."

He told her that ^ew York was his home;
he had been spending some weeks at Ashe-
ville, and a few days since had concluded
to make explorations higher up in the
mountains. He had spent the night in the
lower valley, and since early morning had
been riding up the difficult pathway that
led thence. It was said that Mr. McLeod's
was the highest settled point, and he had
wanted to visit it before returning.

''My uncle will be glad to see you," said
Corona, as he paused. '' We seldom have a
guest."

They now walked forward together, the
young man leading his horse.

" What were you reading ? " he asked
looking inquiringly toward the book in her
hand.

''The 'Odyssey,'" she answered, holding
it out to him. " Is it not beautiful ?"

"Reallv. I don't know much about it,"
he acknowledged. "I recollect reading a

38 Corona of the Nantahalas.

little of it in Greek when I was in school.
Have you read it all ? "

*'This is the third time. And I have
other beautiful books which I will show
you," she said enthusiastically.

He saw that there were illustrations in
the volume, and understood the origin of
her Greek dress, which had greatly puzzled
him. He perhaps wondered at her and
admired her all the more, however, for he
realized that it must have required no little
skill to fashion so graceful a robe from
pictures alone.

^'I have the 'Hiad' and the great Greek
tragedies," she continued, '''and Shake-
speare's dramas."

^'I know something about Shakespeare,"
he said.

'* I like the way you dress," she pursued
naively, ''but when I first saw you I won-
dered why you did not dress like the
Greeks — like Perseus, and Heracles, and
Theseus, and Meleager, and Jason, and
Achilles, and Odysseus, and all the great
heroes. My uncle and the mountaineers do
not, but you are different from them."

*'I am not acquainted with all the gentle-
men you name," laughed Summerfield,

Corona of the Nantahalas. 39

" but I can tell you why I don't dress like
them. Fashion has changed a good many
times since their days, and fashion, you
know, is a tyrant who rules with a rod of
iron."

"What is fashion?"

" The custom which dictates what we are
to wear."

" Then I am not in accord with fashion,"
she said, looking down at her flowing robe
in a doubtful way.

"Fowf" he exclaimed. " You are above
fashion. You are perfect in that costume,
and should wear no other."

He looked at her with an artist's appr{*-
ciation in his eyes, and she felt reassured
and pleased, although she did not quite
understand.

'* After all, fashion is a fickle jade," he
laughed. ''It would take volumes to
enumerate all the caprices she has indulged
in since the time you refer to, which is, I
suppose, about three thousand years."

''Three thousand years!" exclaimed
Corona, aghast. "I did not know — I did

not dream " The girl looked like one

who gazes, suddenly and without warning,
into a bottomless abyss. " What has hap-

40 Corona of the Nantahalas.

penecl in all that time ? '' slie inquired at
last.

*^ Innumerable things. The world has
been shaken with countless wars, empires
have risen and fallen, Christianity has suc-
ceeded Paganism — everything conceivable
has happened."

They were now at the gate of the farm.

** There is so much that I must learn from
you while you are here," she said, earnestly,
her thoughtful eyes fastened upon him.

Her tone was almost confidential, al-
though they had met only a few minutes
before. Summerfield smiled encouragingly,
and his hand involuntarilv souo^ht a note-
book in the pocket of his coat. He wished
he could be alone for a short while in order
to take down her speeches before he forgot
them. He thought he saw a great oppor-
tunity within his grasp, and congratulated
himself on being where he was.

'^ I shall be only too glad to tell you all
you wish to know — so far as I can," he
said, promptly.

He felt encouraged by her words to con-
template staying longer than he had in-
tended at first. She was evidently as deeply
interested in him as he in her, and the

Corona of the Nantahalas. 41

acquaintance promised to be very enter-
taining and useful. Already he saw the
outline of a possible story with her as its
central insjoiration. Meanwhile he was far
from considering her forward, perceiving
at a glance that she was absolutely igno-
rant of the conventions of social life, with
nothing but an instinctive delicacy to guide
her.

As they reached the gate a large, mus-
cular young man appeared from the woods
in the opposite direction, and ran up to
them eagerly. His broad, ruddy face indi-
cated robust health, but not a high degree
of intelligence, and there was something
infantile in his expression, although his eye
seemed keen enough. He smiled at Corona
in passing. Then, halting less than three
feet distant, he fixed his fearless eyes on
Summerfield, devouring every detail of his
features and dress.

^'This is Dan, my uncle's son. He can
neither hear nor speak," said Corona, not
quite cheerfully.

The deaf mute then turned to the girl,
and his expression seemed to say " Where
did you find this novelty in the way of a
man?'' Corona having answered by signs

42 Corona of the Nantahalas.

aud gestures, Dan's devouring glance was
again turned upon Summerfield.

The mountaineer's house, first constructed
as a mere log cabin of the rudest sort, had
long since been improved on. It had now
five or six rooms, besides a porch both at
the front and the back. There were climb-
ing plants growing on it, and in the yard a
variety of shrubs and transplanted flowers.
Though so simple and rude, the effect of
the whole was pleasing and homelike to
one fresh from wanderings through the wild
forests and mountains.

Mrs. McLeod, a timid, faded, solemn-
faced woman, saw the stranger from the
doorway, but did not go out. She called to
her husband who was at work in the rear,
and by the time the party had entered the
yard he was there to meet them. He was
almost as ruddy and robust as his son, but
the evidences of advancing years were to
be seen in his iron-gray hair and hard,
wrinkled face. He, too, looked tenderly on
Corona in passing.

'' We are mighty glad to see you, sir,"
he said simply and heartily when Summer-
field was presented.

IV.

SuMMERFiELD explained that he was a
tourist, with much time at his disposal, omit-
ting to add that he was by profession a jour-
nalist. He desired to spend a few days in
the higher altitudes, and if they had room
and could take him in, he would be glad
to pay well. He saw at once that he had
made a mistake, and that the mention of
money was offensive. In the Nantahalas
the sojourning traveller is taken in as a
gaest or not at all. However, he was cor-
dially urged to stay at the McLeods' home,
and was not slow to accept the offered hos-
pitality.

He took copious notes relating to every-
thing he thought interesting, and- before
his departure had completed a letter for a
newspaper with which he had a regular
connection. He found that a mere de-

44 Corona of the Nantahalas.

scriptiou of the peaceful life at Lonely
Cove was lacking in sensational features.
In fact, with Corona left out — she being
reserved for his romance — it was hopelessly
tame. So, with much picturesqueness and
humour, he described a dancing party, sug-
gested by something seen in the backwoods
elsewhere. Not content with this inven-
tion, he boldly turned his peaceful place of
sojourn into an illicit distillery of " moun-
tain dew.'^

Gideon McLeod (not mentioned by name)
was made to play the role of the regulation
moonshiner, generous and hospitable with
his friends, but burning with hatred of
revenue officers and of all persons sus-
pected of sympathizing with them. The
distillery itself was described in detail, and
placed in a convenient mountain cave not-
far from the moonshiner's abode. The
stealthy methods of disposing of the colour-
less whisky to the lower valley people were
recounted, one of them being the familiar
practice of placing a jug and a piece of
silver at some lonely spot in the forest, and
returning later to find the money gone and
the liquor there in its stead.

Summerfield did not write all this with-

Corona of the Nantahalas. 45

out some slight prickings of conscience —
he was not altogether hardened as yet —
but he easily persuaded himself that he
was doing no harm. It was notorious that
there were illicit distilleries in the Korth
Carolina mountains, and what mattered it
if he located one at Lonely Cove? Xobody
could claim that it was a libel on the sec-
tion, and, as the readers of the *^ Chronicle"
would not know where the place was, no
harm could result.

On the other hand, a readable letter could
be written and his time not be wasted.
Suuimerfield thought he had wasted too
much time already in his search for illicit
distilleries, since up to date he had found
nothing more than a sort of rural " speak
easy," where the colourless liquid was
poured into the purchasers' bottles from a
new and innocent -looking kerosene can.
Summerfield was not the man to waste
time in self-examination or in the contem-
plation of moral questions. His attention
was usually centred on gathering the mate-
erial for a readable letter. Rather than fail,
to do this, he was at all times ready to
still the faint whisper of the inward monitor.

It was Corona, however, who now ab-

46 Corona of the NantaJialas.

sorbed the greater part of his time and
attention. As he came more and more to
recognize her absohite innocence, he grew
bold enough to take down her speeches,
often as soon as they were uttered. The
girl showed him Olympus, Helicon, Par-
nassus, the Simois, and the Scamander —
indeed, all her favourite haunts, and he was
constantly taking notes. The deaf mute
always accompanied them, whether from
mere curiosity or because he was told so
to do, the guest could not decide.

Once, as they halted at a little stream,
an affluent of one of the classical rivers,
Summerfield threw himself down on the
bank to drink. Corona, who was standing
near, saw his reflection in the water, and
noticed that he looked at it steadily before
breaking the mirror with his lips.

^^Eemember the fate of Narcissus," she
said, with a half smile, but seriously.
"There is danger in that for such as
you. "

'^Who was Narcissus?" asked the young
man, as he rose to his feet. "I believe I
knew once upon a time."

Quite simply and seriously she repeated
the story of the beautiful youth who fell

Corona of the NantaJialas. 47

hopelessly in love witli his own image re-
flected in the mirror of the brook.

Summerfield burst into a great laugh.
*' Do you think I am as yain as that ?" he
asked. ^^I think I could preserve a level
head even if I were good looking."

"Narcissus could not have been more
beautiful," was Corona's thought, as she
stood silent.

'^You don't believe that story was true ?"
asked Summerfield.

*^I do not know. It may have happened.
If it did not, it must have been invented in
order to convey some hidden meaning. "

*^ What possible hidden meaning could
there be in such an idle fancy ? "

*•' Socrates could have explained it, I think.
He would perhaps have said the story was a
fable, describing the disastrous results of un-
bridled self-conceit."

Summerfield took out his note-book and
began to write.

^^Why do you write so much in your
book ? " she asked, for the first time.

'^In order to make sure of things before
they are gone forever," he said, laughing.
'*One must pin down a thought before it
blows awaj."

48 Corona of the Nantahalas.

She was far from comprehending him
thoroughly, supposing he only wrote down
reflections for the pleasure it gave him, and
thinking he must therefore be thoughtful
and wise. For the first time was thus
suggested to her the idea of keeping a
diary.

"It would he worth while for you to
look in the brook's impartial mirror," said
Summerfield, returning the note-book to his
pocket.

*' Why so ?" she innocently asked.

"Because you would see beauty itself."

''Do you think I am beautiful, Henry ?"
the girl asked very seriously.

He smiled as she pronounced his Chris-
tian name, but preferred to leave her in
ignorance of her unconventionality. He only
said: "You are very, very beautiful."

" I am glad," she said simply, going on to
ask: "and am I as beautiful as the women
you know in the outside world ?"

"More so — far more so," was the earnest
answer.

"But you will go back to them, Henry ?"

"I must go back, but I can return —
here," he said in a low voice, with something
like passion.

Corona of the Najitahalas. 49

They stood near together, and his eyes
were riveted upon hers. The deaf mute,
who had lain on the ground absorbing
tliem with his gUmce, now sprang suddenly
to his feet and looked about him. Corona
started, and what was perhaps the first
blush of her life suffused her cheek and
brow. She had led the conversation up
to this climax with an innocence that was
childlike, but her eyes were opened now,
anil she feared she had committed a grave
breach of decorum. Turning away in con-
fusion, she moved to walk homeward.

After one turbulent moment of disap-
pointment, Summerfield felt quite resigned.
He was not really in love, and did not de-
sire to be-; therefore it was better that they
should stop at that point and say no more.
In spite of his journalistic lapses from
virtue, there was something honourable in
Snmmerfield.

Before the week was quite gone, he de-
cided that he had better take his leave.
The purpose for which he came had been
served. He had written a taking letter,
his book was full of notes, and he felt sure
of a good story. It would now be well to
go — while there was time. Had Corona

50 Corona of the Nantahalas.

been less attractive, less beautiful, less inno-
cent, lie thought he might have stayed.
She was not the woman he ought to marry
— and stay he could not.

He observed that the girl was constantly
more shy and reserved after the moment
when she had blushed, and at the hour of
parting she said little. After he bade the
McLeods good-bye, Summerfield was ac-
companied a little way into the forest by
Corona and Dan, leading his horse and
walking with them.

"■ We will turn back here," said the girl
abruptly, as they reached the spring.

''Good-bye, Dan," said Summerfield,
shaking the smiling deaf mute's hand.
Then he turned to Corona with some
rather commonplace expressions. He
would never forget his stay at Lonely
Cove ; some day he hoped to come back —
if he might.

" If you wish to —yes," she said, smiling.
'' We should be glad to see you again. We
rarely have a guest, and it gives my uncle
great pleasure."

^' All revoir, then — good-bye !" he said,
with a warm clasp of the hand.

Then he was off and away before she

Corona of the Nantahalas. ^l

could realize that the parting had really
come. The two stood looking after him
till he was lost to view, and then their eyes
met. *' I have only you now," Corona's
glance seemed to say. Acting from a
sudden impulse, slie leaned forward and
kissed Dan on the cheek, to his evident
delight.

A moment later both her strength and
composure gave way. With a low, desolate
cry, she fell j)rone upon the grass and burst
into tears. Such an unwonted exhibition of
distress greatly excited Dan, and with a
face expressive of astonishment and deep
concern, he bent over her, uttering inarticu-
late sounds as though struggling to make
inquiry. But she took no notice of him,
and only seemed to sob the more.

All at once a ray of intelligence appeared
in the deaf mute^s perplexed eyes, and,
leaping to his feet, he looked threateningly
in the direction Summerfield had gone.
The fierce glance returned once or twice to
the girl's figure on the grass, only to dart
again down the leafy vista through which
the horseman had disappeared. For a few
moments longer Dan stood thus, and then,
apparently seized by a sudden and serious

52 Corona of the NantaJialas.

determination, he took a few doubtful steps,
and at last darted away in the direction of
the farm-house.

It is certain that Summerfield felt a
distinct admiration and something of a
vague reverence for Corona. He w^as con-
scious of almost a tender regard for her
welfare, of a real regret that her lot had
been cast in such desolate places, and of a
hope that bright days were awaiting her in
times to come. But as he rode along the
downward path through the forest, it is
equally certain that his thoughts were
but little concerned with her personally,
although as a j^rototype for one of the love-
liest of heroines, she absorbed his whole
attention.

For the time he was almost serenely
happy. Just now, after starting, he had
something like an inspiration. The idea
for which he had been waiting had come
to him, that central idea which would
give life and vigour to his proposed tale.
His halting imagination was aroused ; scene
after scene took pleasing shape before his
vision, and the hours spent on this long
lonely ride promised to be among the most
agreeable of his life.

Corona of the Nantahalas. 53

He was not troubled with thoiiglits of
the personal Corona. He did not ask him-
self how she was now to take up the
threads of her life, and go on with them in
the old-time simplicity and content. He
did not see her sorrowful, hungry days
foreshadowed — her sweet and oitter fancies,
her hopes and fears, which would be irre-
vocably commingled, though less evenly
than the warp and woof at her weaving;
her sighs, which would blend with the
mournful sound of the spinning-wheel, and
mayhap her tears which would dampen
the s^oun yarn as she drew it through her
fingers. How should he ? How was he
to know that one week of pleasure could
entail such results in the history of a lonely
soul ? He did not and could n Dt ; he only
saw her before him radiant, lovely, in a
luminous cloud of fancy — his inspiration.

As Summerfield pursued his journey,
looking neither to the right nor to the left,
absorbed wholly in the play of his imagina-
tion, he was suddenly and rudely aroused.
He was first aware of a whirring sound, as
of something flying rapidly through the air.
A shadow glanced before his eyes, and then
he knew that a rope had tightened around

54 Corona of the Nantahalas.

his waist, pinioning his arms to his sides.
Before he saw whence the attack came,
he was jerked from the saddle and fell
heavily to the ground.

In the act of bounding to his feet, he
was borne down again. A heavy, muscular
man had sprang upon him with the agility
of a cat. With his knees planted upon the
prostrate man's breast, the assailant threw
his body toward the feet, quickly slipping
a noose around them and binding them
together. Thus was Summerfield so
securely bound that he could move neither
hand nor foot, before he saw the face of his
captor.

''What does this mean?" he cried
fiercely, as he recognized the deaf mute.

Dan saw that his prisoner's lips were
moving, but did not trouble himself further
than to see that the knots were securely
tied. A moment later he was off to secure
the straying horse. Keturning shortly, he
lifted his struggling captive upon the
animal's back, and strapped him there.

In his fury Summerfield made use of
the most fiery invective, railing ai the
deaf mute, just as if he heard it all ; he
was an idiot, a madman, a robber, an

Corona of the Nantahalas. 5 5

assassin — all these, with qualifying ad-
jectives of an expressive and explosive
kind. But Dan gave no sign, and walked
steadily forward through the forest, the
bridle over his arm.

Realizing that he might as well talk to a
stone, Summerfield at last bottled up his
wrath and was silent. Anon his anger
cooled, and anxiety succeeded. What was
to be done with him ? This could not be
mere sport on Dan's part ; he must have
been incited to it. Could Corona know ?
Assuredly not. Was it, then, McLeod ?
Was he waiting at an appointed spot, and
would they murder him for the sake of his
horse and what money he might have ?

A prey to such misgivings, Summerfield
forgot how uncomfortable was his position.
Though absorbed in reflecting upon the
probable outcome of his captivity, he did
not fail to note that the deaf mute led the
horse away from the path and over a wind-
ing route through the forest, halting only
after almost an hour's tramp.

The stopping place was not familiar to
Summerfield. The mountain side rose
almost perpendicularly at this point, and
in the rocky wall the captive's anxious eye

56 Corona of the Nantahalas.

descried a small opening, perhaps the
mouth of a cave. There was indeed an
opening, but the cramped chamber within,
of some fifteen by thirty feet^ was rather a
niche in the wall than a cave.

The spot was one well known to Corona
and Dan. Years before, the rocky chamber
had been a favourite playhouse with them.
Later on, it had been classically entitled
the cave of Calypso.

The opening was fringed with vines, and
was larger than it looked. When Dan
lifted the burden from the back of the horse
and shouldered it, he was able to enter the
cave without stooping. The rocky, uneven
floor of the dim interior was softened in
one corner by a pile of dead leaves. Here
the unresistinsc form of Summerfield was
gently deposited, and a few moments later
the amazed young man was left to his own
thoughts and conjectures.

V.

By this time it was near the hour of noon,
but the suu had set before Summerfield was
disturbed. As the time wore away, his
amazement was intensified. Try as he might,
he could invent no reasonable explanation
of the situation. If his detention meant
murder and robbery, why should there be
such delay ? He asked himself this ques-
tion again and again, and the long hours
and deep silence only emphasized the pro-
blem, while bringing no solution. Once or
twice daring the afternoon he thought he
heard stealthy footsteps. Once he was con-
vinced that a shadow darkened the vine-
clad doorway, that some one stood there for
an instant looking at him ; but he lay with
his feet toward the inner wall of the cave,
and before he could twist his head about
and direct his glance toward the opening,
the shadow was gone.

58 Corona of the Naiitahalas.

Shortly after sundown the deaf mute
appeared and offered him food — with a face
very serious, almost remorseful. Summer-
field scowled threateningly, and motioned
the offered refreshment away. But Dan
refused to remove it, and seemed to be
much grieved by this obstinacy. Hesitat-
ing a moment, he took up another mouthful
on a fork, and put it to the captive's lips.

Summerfield had eaten nothing since
breakfast, and was very hungry. As the
grateful odour of fried venison again entered
his nostrils, involuntarily his lips relaxed.
After all, why not eat and be comfortable
while Avaiting to know his fate ? Dan
smiled with all the delight of a successful
child, continuing to ply the fork, and when
the prisoner's hunger was appeased, he
took his leave, apparently well satisfied with
himself.

Summerfield had spent the afternoon in
multiplying vain conjectures as to the
meaning of his captivity, and in struggling
to loosen his bonds, by turns. He now did
neither, beino^ wearv of both. Comforted
by the food, he lay quite still, and soon fell
asleej). The morning light had entered the
doorway when he awoke, and he then lay

Corona of the N.jitahalas. 59

for hours, as it seemed to him, awaiting the
next visit of his jailer, meanwhile listening
with impatience rather than pleasure to the
twitter of the early birds and the soft sigh
of the breeze in the trees outside.

At last he hijard footsteps near the open-
ing, and voices. Who was that speaking ?
A woman ? Yes, it was Corona I She, then,
knew of his capture — had caused it, per-
haps. Summerfield's face flushed and his
heart beat violently — with indignation, or
was it with pleasure ? Corona loved him —
she wished him to stay ; this could be the
only explanation. The modern Odysseus
w^as a prisoner in the cave of Calypso, and
Calypso herself was coming — by her spells
and her love to lure him to stay. If, then,
she willed it with such passionate determi-
nation, with such forgetfulness of the cus-
toms of mankind, why should he not be
persuaded to stay — for a time, if not for the
full seven years ?

As soon as Dan had deposited his burden
in the cave and secreted the horse, he ran
to the spot where he had left Corona weep-
ing on the grass. Finding no trace of her,
he looked for her at the farm-house, but
she was nowhere to be seen. Immediatelv

6o Corona of the Nantahalas.

returning to the forest, Dan sought her in
one after another of their favourite haunts,
in vain. He even climbed Helicon, and
then Parnassus. By this time it was mid
afternoon ; he was weary and hungry, and
concluding that he had missed her, he re-
turned home.

Inquiring of his mother by signs, he
learned that Corona had just come in from
the woods after an absence of five or six
hours, that she complained of being ill, and
had retired to her room without eating.
Seeking her there forthwith, he found the
door shut and fastened from within, and
there was no response to his knocks.

Gideon McLeod received little assistance
from Dan during the remainder of that
afternoon. The thought of what he had
done weighed upon the deaf mute, and half
an hours pursuit of quiet labour was as
much as he could bear at a time. Twice
he dropped his hoe and ran to the cave in
order to see how the captive fared ; more
often still, he returned to the house in the
hope of finding his beloved playmate visible.
And when supper had been cooked and
served, he surreptitiously carried off a plate-
ful to the cave, as above described.

Corona of the Nantahalas. 6 1

Nothing more was seen of Corona till
next morning, when she came forth, a little
pale, but otherwise unaltered. As soon as
breakfast was disposed of, she placed her
sj)inniug wheel on the porch and worked
with an eagerness suggesting desperation.
Dan seated himself on the steps in the direct
line of her vision, and from time to time
endeavoured to engage her attention. But
she had no o^lances for him to-dav. At
length he went and stood by her, making
signs. Did she not want to walk with him
in the woods ? Did she not wish to visit
once again the cave of Calypso?

*' Not now," she said. " Go away, Dan."

But he persisted. If she only knew what
he had there to show her, she would come.
He had a great surprise in store for her.
What was it? He would not tell; she
must guess. She would be sorry if she did
not go and see it. And at last the girl
rose and followed him through the thick
woods to the cave.

^^ Have you lo and Atalanta shut up
there?" Corona asked aloud, forgetting to
make signs. *^I have not seen them this
morning."

This was just as they arrived, and these

62 Corona of the Nantahalas.

were the words partly overheard by Sum-
merfield. Dan shook his head, with an
im^^ortant smile, as the inquiry was duly
communicated to him, and motioned his
companion to enter. Leaning forward to
look through the doorway. Corona drew
back hastily as she saw the indistinct out-
lines of a man lying on the ground.

**^ Don't be afraid/' signed Dan, and en-
tered first.

Corona followed, but with great hesita-
tion. Her eyes were not yet accustomed
to the dim light, and she neither saw
Summerfield's bonds nor recognized his
face.

'^ What can this mean ?'' she cried aloud.

**Good morning, Miss Corona!" said
Summerfield, with affected gaiety.

The girl started at the sound of that
familiar voice, and looked at Dan almost in
terror. One instant of uncertainty, and
she stepped quickly forward and stooped
over the form of the captive, recognizing
his face and perceiving his helpless condi-
tion all at once. Summerfield saw amaze-
ment, concern, fear, written in every line of
her face, and his heart smote him for having
so cruelly misjudged her.

Corona of the Nantahalas, 63

"Don't bo alarmed," he said gently. "I
am all right. The experience has been
rather uncomfortable, but there are no bones
broken."

*^How came you here?" asked Corona,
excitedly. '^I thought you were many miles
away."

*' Evidently I did not walk," he answered
with a laugh, struggling a little within the
folds of the rope.

" Who has done this ? " exclaimed the
girl, her eyes aflame.

*' Your playful cousin there," was the
answer. ^^As 1 rode away yesterday, ab-
sorbed in thought, he threw a lasso oyer me,
jerked me from the saddle, and jumped on
me. Before I realized what was going on,
he had slipped another noose over my feet
and had me secure. He then put me on my
horse, and brought me to this place — for
what purpose, I have as yet been wholly un-
able to guess. ""

Corona rose slowly to her feet, directing
a fiery glance at Dan, before which he
quailed.

'^And you did that I" she said, a look of
mingled grief, anger, and horror on her
face. *' Who would have believed there was

64 Corojia of the Nantahalas.

such wickedness in your heart ? No wonder
the gods decreed that you should be deaf and
dumb."

Recollecting that he could not compre-
hend her spoken words, she began to ad-
dress Dan by signs:

'^What could have made you do this
frightful thing? What evil influence has
possessed you ? " she said, in substance.

"It was all for you/' indicated the un-
happy deaf mute by means of his rapid signs
and gestures. " I saw you fall on the
ground and weep after he had gone. I
thought you wanted him to stay, but he
would not, and so I "

Corona turned away, and his silent speech
was cut off. The blood had rushed turbu-
lently to her face, spreading from neck to
brow ; now it is as suddenly receded, leaving
her alarmingly pale. For an instant her
body seemed to sway, as though she would
fall ; but she recovered suddenly and turned
again to Dan.

"Untie him!" she said, and her gesture
denoted an imperious command.

She had spoken aloud, not by signs,
but the deaf mute had read her face and
comprehended fully. He started, as if

Corona of the Nantahalas. 65

from a sudden and unexpected blow, and
bounded forward to do her bidding. The
blade of a knife gleamed in the dim light,
and the ropes were soon cut.

''Now fetch his horse, ^' commanded
Corona, this time by signs, and Dan hurried
from the cave.

Summerfield gathered himself up stiffly,
and followed the girl through the vine-clad
doorway into the open air.

'*I know not what to say," she faltered
with downcast eyes. ''Such an outrage "

" Do not speak of it," the young man
interrupted kindly.

" My uncle will be most deeply mortified
— as I am," she pursued. " He knew nothing,
nor did I, till now. "We beg of you to ac-
cept our apology, and ask you to remember
that this poor Dan is only a child as to his
mind, and is truly not responsible for his
acts."

" I am quite aware of it — I have seen it,"
was the considerate reply.

Dan now appeared, leading the horse.
Delivering the bridle to Summerfield, he
turned away, a sad, perplexed look on his
face.

"And now I will ask you to mount and ride

^^ Corona of the Nantahalas.

away at once,'' continued the girl bravely,
" so that my uncle will not know of this at
all. It would grieve him co the heart. Good-
bye ! All our good wishes go with you,
although you leave us unhappy — grieved
for this terrible thing that has occurred."

He pitied her in her mortification. She
looked very sad and very beautiful ; he
almost believed that he loved her.

" May I come — may I come again ? " he
asked ardently.

" If yon wish it," she replied, in a low
voice, and with averted face.

Admiration for her came suddenly over
him in a great wave. He felt touched be-
yond expression ; and yet^ even in that
generous moment, a theatrical impulse
which sometimes moved him, rose to the
surface. He felt irresistibly impelled to
seize her hand, to bend low and press his
lips upon it.

"The memory of Corona will live with
me forever ! " he said, with a touch of real
passion.

Siie drew her hand quickly away. " Wait
until you return," she said.

Then he leaped on his horse, lifted his hat
to her, and was gone.

Corona of the Nantahalas. 6y

When the sound of his horse's hoofs was
no longer heard, Corona turned toward
Dan, who stood apart and seemed afraid to
look directly at her, shame and perplexity
written on his face. However, he now per-
ceived that she beckoned him, and he
timidly approached. She seated herself on
a stone, and bade him do likewise.

**My poor Dau,'^ she said aloud, as he
obeyed. For a time she spoke no more,
looking along the path Summerfield had
taken.

"And you did all that for me," she
mused at last, looking at Dan again. ** You
meant to please me, but you have broken
my heart, poor boy."

Then all at once she put her arms round
his neck, rested her head on his shoulder,
and wept as the desolate weep.

VI.

The winter season was over at Asheville,
and the summer season had not yet began.
The long veranda of the Battery Park
Hotel was almost deserted; scarcely an
eye was left that cared to dwell on the wide
prospect — the scattered town below, the
rolling valley beyond, and the blue moun-
tains against the horizon. The only persons
enjoying the ubiquitous rocking-chair were
two young men, who were more than half
persuaded to stretch their legs over the
balustrade. Why not? It was so com-
fortable, and there was no one in sight
likely to be shocked. There seemed to be
an end, now, of that incessant tramping
back and forth of ladies who had nothing
in the world to do but to seek an appetite
for dinner.

" When do you go away, Summerfield? "

Corona of the Nantahalas. 69

"To-morrow. And you?''

''As soon as I can get everythiag ready
for camping."

The last speaker was a man of perhaps a
little more than thirty — half-a-dozen years
older than Htnry Summerfield. In many
respects the t\yo were contrasting types.
Edward Darnell's clothes did not fit well,
nor were they yery new, and although his
features were good, and there was eyidence
of strength in his serious face, no one would
haye called him handsome. He bore the
air of one who had giyen oyer play for
work. His dark hair and eyes emphasized
the pallor of his rather thin face, and,
although it was not possible to detect the
odour of the traditional midnight oil, there
was about him an unmistakable air of the
student.

''You don't mean to say that you expect
to camp all alone another summer ? " asked
Summerfield, with an air of concern which
was hardly genuine.

"I did it in the Yellowstone last summer
without disaster, and why not here ?'' was
the reply. " These ^orth Carolina moun-
tains," Darnell continued, " are remarkable
for being forest-clothed up to the top.

70 Corona of the Naiitahalas.

although so very high — the highest land
east of the Kockies, in fact. I want to give
a special study to the flora of these high
altitudes."

"If I were you, then, Td choose the
Nantahalas, rather than the Smokies or
Unakas," said Summerfield. *' Eeally, they
are wonderful. And, besides, that's where
I met that remarkable girl," he lightly
added.

" I had been thinking of Mount Mitchell,"
Darnell continued, passing over his friend's
last remark. "I don^t quite know where
the JSTantahalas are. They are not visible
from this point."

Summerfield said he fancied they were
about a hundred miles to the south-west.
''^ But how are you able to manage this
camping of yours ? " he asked a few mo-
ments later. *' Where do you get anything
to eat ? "

*' Simple enough. I carry a pot and a
supply of steam -cooked oatmeal. Then,
too, you really have no idea what a public
benefactor was the inventor of canned
goods," Darnell went on, smiling and almost
enthnsiastic. " I have my gun along, and
occasionally I take the trouble to kill and

Corona of the Naiitahalas, yi

cook a partridge, or something else not
always as nice. I eat when hungry, drink
when thirsty, sleep when weary — the most
independent life in the world, I assure you.
I can't lay claim to the gipsy's blood, but I
dote on the gipsy's way of life. '^

" But how dull it must be! "

*'Ko time for that when a man is collect-
ing, classifying, and cataloguing specimens."

" But you can't work all the time."

'* Certainly not. Of course I carry a few
of my favourite books, and now and then I
condescend to read a novel. I even read
your sketches occasionally."

"You don't say!" Summerfield laughed
heartily. '* But, after all, you must often be
desperately lonely.'^

^* Ah, there you say true" — with a half
sigh. ^' But then I am a lonely man in the
city, you know. I have nothing but my
lectures at the Academy and my books."

*'What a dry life! By the way, has that
rich cousin of yours made any further efforts
to introduce you into society?"

'^ She mentioned it again last fall, but I
backed as usual. I don^t care for fine
ladies. I don't know much about either,
but I prefer the working girl."

72 Corona of the Nantahalas,

"The kind who stands behind a counter
and says that one colour is more becoming
'than what' another is for a light com-
plexion, and who informs you that she has
a sister ' Alus ' also in business, and that if
their father Miad of known how to hold
on to his money they would all now be
driving in a 'cope,' instead of — et cetera, et
cetera."

''You mustn't go into particulars. That
is the way to spoil the best of theories,"
said Darnell, smiling. "I mean the work-
ing girl in the abstract. I prefer her
because, to my mind, she is more in the
order of creation. She does something for
others — something of use to her neighbours
— while the fine lady lives only for herself.
I admit, of course, that where the working
girl does not love her work, the one is as
selfish as the other."

"But how do you dispose of the advan-
tages of culture and "

'•' True education is a great thing for any
one, especially if he be caught young. But
the varnish called cultivation will not im-
prove a shallow mind or refine a selfish
soul. I prefer strong characters, wherever
found."

Corona of the Nantahalas. 73

'* Darnell, you ought to meet that girl I
saw last summer."

"Who is she?"

"Did you read that story of mine
published last winter called *A Sylvan
Princess ? ' "

" Yes."

*^The whole thing was based on what
happened to me in the Nantahalas in con-
nection with this girl. I dared not describe
everything Just as it was. I knew it wouldn't
be believed."

*' What were you doing there ? "

"Last summer I went up to the mountain
village of Bryson, on my way to Oconoluf tee,
the Cherokee reservation — I wanted to write
an article about the Indians, — and while
there I heard mentiou of a remarkable
young woman who lived some forty miles
away — far up in the fastnesses of the
Nantahalas."

*^ Not alone?"

'^ No. Her companions were an old
farmer, his wife, and a deaf-mute son. It
was said, in substance, that she was as wise
as a sage and as beautiful as a dream, and
I determined to see her."

"How singular."

74 Corona of the Nantahalas,

*'Take another cigar, and I'll tell you all
about it."

^^ It is certainly a remarkable story," said
Darnell half an hour later, after listening to
an outline of his friend's experience in the
Nantahalas. *^And you have never since
communicated with her?"

"No. I thought once or twice of send-
ing her a copy of the story of which she
was the inspiration, but decided not to. I
believe I should have gone back myself
long before this if I had dared. It seemed
wiser to stay away; she is too fascinating.
I am not ready to marry yet, and, if I were,
she is hardly the kind of girl to introduce
to one's friends."

'^ She is worth a hundred of the conven-
tional girl, if your report is at all accurate,"
said Darnell positively.

'^No doubt she is — in a way. But
society's way are different. She'd interest
you, Darnell, I am sure; and there would be
no risk in your going. You are such a cold,
phlegmatic fellow, that there would be no
danger of your falling in love, and "

"And as I am not good looking, there
would be no danger of her falling in love
with me, eh ? " Darnell replied dryly.

Corona of the Nantahalas. 75

''You know I did not mean to say that."
*^It is true, however, and it is possible
that I may adopt your suggestion. I can
doubtless find the same specimens on the
peaks of the Xantahalas as on Mount
Mitchell, and there seems no real reason
why I should not follow your trail."

VII.

_ CoRON"A waited in vain through the long
weeks and months of the summer and
autumn. Summerfield did not come back,
and sent no word. Many a time the girl
visited the spring where he had first entered
her life, and lingered there, vaguely hoping
to hear his horse's hoof-strokes on the flinty
path — huge red long and drearily, falling
prone upon the ground at last before the
oppression of her disappointment and grief.
She had little idea of the long distances, of
the hindrances that might prevent, and had
really expected him to return, believing im-
plicitly all he had said. She had learned
many things about the outside world during
the few days he was with her, but she had
not learned enough.

The spot became hateful at last, and she
went there no more; but on Helicon and

Coro7ia of the Nantahalas yj

the other heights which they had visited
together, on the banks of the Simois, and
in the cave at Calypso, she still thought of
him. After some weeks, in the intervals
between weaving, spinning and other work,
she went back to her books, especially her
poets, with renewed affection and absorp-
tion. She had felt the pangs of a great
disappointment, and now understood the
feelings of Ariadne, of Medea, of Calypso,
of Dido, of Cleopatra, and Ophelia, as never
before.

Still later, though scarcely less sad.
Corona found a certain relief in giving ex-
pression to her troubled thoughts in spoken
words. As she wandered alone through
the wild woods, or sat upon the loftiest
point of Helicon or Olympus and looked
out over the vast, hazy blue sea of moun-
tains, she now and then fell into a measured
recitation of her griefs, her thoughts, her
ho^^es. It did not occur to her that she
spoke in rhythm ; the voices of the ancient
bards forever haunted her mind, and, had
she thought of the matter, their mode of
speech would have seemed to her more
natural and fitting than prose for these
melancholy soliloquies. She was observant

78 Corona of the Nantahalas*

and reflective enough, however, to become
aware that this habit of measured soliloquy
was growing on her, and she wondered if
she were the victim of a peculiar form of
madness. While wandering on one of the
higher peaks of the neighbourhood one day
late in the fall Corona witnessed a thunder-
storm in the clouds beneath her, and Avas
filled with delight rather than awe by the
terrific beauty and grandeur of the scene.
Eeturning home it occurred to her that if
Summerfield had seen it he would have
written about it in his book. It was this
suggestion which ended in her spreading
paper before her the next day and be-
ginning to write.

Once begun, the habit grew on her, and
almost every day Corona wrote something
in a little blank book left behind by the
schoolmaster. From this beginning of a
simjole description of the thunderstorm, she
advanced toward the most fantastic and
poetical fancies, everywhere coloured by
the pagan atmosphere in which she had
grown up. What the birds said to each
other, what the river said to the mountain,
the myriad murrnurings of the forest from
day to day, the beat of the gentle rain

Corona of the Nantahalas. 79

on the glad leaves, the language of the
clouds, of the stars, the soft coo of the
doves who knew that her heart was torn,
the harsh laugh of the crows who knew
it, too, the friendly sympathy of the wood
and water nymphs, of whom she still
dreamed, the indifference of fauns and
satyrs, the mystery, the beauty, the sad-
ness, the joy, of the vast, illimitable world
of nature.

Once, forgetful of her uncle's warning
that the place was unsafe even while it was
day. Corona wandered into the pathless
forest on the far side of Parnassus. Dan
was busy and could not go, so she called
the deer and started ofif, lo and Afcalanta
trotting contentedly at her heels. As the
way became precipitous and diflScult her
pets strayed oS, feeding, and she ascended
to the top alone, remaining there an un-
marked length of time absorbed in con-
templating a grand prospect of unknown
peaks wreathed in smoky blue, of wide
intervening valleys traversed by slender,
shining streams, and of shifting white
mists which here and there swam low
between the piny walls of long, deep

glens.

8o Corona of the Nantahalas,

Descending into the great forests again,
she came upon a huge old tulijD tree with
a small hollow at its centre on a level
with the ground, evidently at one time
the den of some animal, for the rotting
protuberances were all worn smoothly
away. Its height would not permit stand-
ing erect, but Corona calculated that two,
perhaps three, persons could sit comfort-
ably within the hollow, should shelter from
a storm be desired at any time.

She would show this to Dan without
delay, and should a rain-cloud descend
upon them while in this neighbourhood,
they could henceforth find refuge here. It
was while she thought of this that she
missed the deer. Detecting a faint sound
of howling in the distance, she remem-
bered her uncle's warning, and feared the
worst.

In a few minutes fleet-footed Atalanta
bounded through some neighbouring laurel
bushes and leaped madly forward. At
sight of Corona, and at the sound of her
voice, the frightened hind halted and came
to her, panting and trembling. lo followed
in another moment. The howling had now
grown loud and fierce, and the pursuers

Corona of the Nantahalas. 8 1

were close at hand. Corona had barely
had time to push the terrified but obedient
young deer into the hollow of the tree, and
follow them, when half-a-dozen wolves burst
through the laurel and halted snarling be-
fore her.

As if fully aware of the helplessness
of their prey, two of the foremost beasts
sprang half way into the hollow, and,
sinking their teeth into the neck of poor
Atalanta, dragged her forth, in spite of
Corona's threatening cries and the futile
blows from her bare hands. Fearlessly the
girl went forth after them, and, seizing
a large stone, dealt one of the wolves a
blow which caused it to relax its hold with
a howl of pain. The advantage thus gained
was only momentary. Two more wolves
immediately sprang upon the bleeding
hind, a third seized Coronals dress in its
teeth, tearing it to shreds, while a fourth
attacked lo, who was shrinking in the
hollow.

The consequences would doubtless have
been disastrous for Corona as well as her
pets but for the fortunate arrival of Gideon
McLeod, who, while hunting on the moun-
tain slope at no great distance, heard the

S2 Corona of the Nantahalas,

howling and hurried to the scene. Two of
the wolves were quickly shot, and the
remainder sought the safety of distance.
But poor Atalanta was dead, and lo
staggered about, bleeding from several
wounds.

For the first time since the day of Suui-
merfield's departure, Corona wept copious
tears, and could with difficulty be consoled.
Having examined lo's wounds and found
that they were not serious, at the weephig
girl's suggestion Gideon McLeod sought a
burial-place for Atalanta. Not far away he
found a small rocky hollow in a steep slope,
and here was deposited the dead hind.
Corona first strewing the bottom with
laurel leaves, regretting that she could not
obtain the funereal cypress which the Trojan
matrons threw into the graves of their loved
ones. A pile of loose stones was heaped
over the spot, and then they started home-
ward, i^oor lo limping after them. All
this was recorded in the little book in highly
imaginative style, the mystical, ancient
idea of metempsychosis playing a part.
Poor Atalanta was made the flesh -clothed
soul of a beautiful maid of some far time —
was not the original lo transformed into

Corona of the Nantahalas. 83

a cow? — and the pack of wolves, while
scourged with a whip of flaming words,
were declared the eternal prison-house of
the souls of once depraved and wicked men.

The fall and winter wore awaj, the
monotony of Corona's life being varied
only by the regular visits of one Jonathan
Scruggs, a mountaineer from the lower
valley. This young man, who was not
good looking or otherwise attractive, ap-
peared to be decidedly deficient in mother
wit, and could not take no for an answer.
He was less lacking in appreciation of his
own importance, and was thoroughly con-
vinced that Corona would succumb to his
persuasive eloquence in time. However,
he was wise enough not to be disagreeably
urgent, and so his frequent presence was
tolerated by the family, the elder McLeod
being always polite to him. But Dan
more than once meditated a quarrel,
seeing how his beloved playmate was
annoyed.

After the winter snows had melted, and
Scamander and Simois had borne the waste
of water down to the lower country, when
the bare trees leafed out and the spring
flowering began. Corona was less unhappy

84 Corona of the Nantahalas.

while still thinking of him who had come
into and gone out of her life, to return no
more. She thought of him, but quietly,
with a patience and resignation which she
had learned at last. In her little book she
wrote that the budding of the leaves was
her returning smile after the dark winter
of })ain — her sad, forgiving smile which
would go downward through the world to
him.

One day early in June, about a year after
the departure of Summerfield, she walked
forth in the forest alone. It was afternoon,
and her work was done — the hour when
she usually went out with Dan ; but to-day
she avoided him and slipped away alone.
She felt unequal to the tramp up to the
heights, and went and sat by the roaring
Simois, watching with unfailing interest the
turbulent sweep of the crystal water over
the rocks and shoals. Her old fancies re-
turned to her as she lingered, and she
found herself wondering if, after all the
faithless Summerfield had said, the naiads
were not there in the swirling water,
chasing each other playfully round the
eddies, and laughing in the fullness of their
content.

Corona of the Na^itahalas. 85

The path she chose ia returning led past
the cave of Calypso, a spot still yisited,
though associated with some of her most
painful recollectioDS. The sun had set ere
she reached the spot. As she drew near,
the sound of an axe caused her to halt in
great surprise. A little nearer, she saw that
a fire glimmered through the trees, and won-
dered what Dan, who should be at home
milking the cows, could be doing there at
this hour.

At the verge of the open in front of the
cave the girl stopped, amazed. Close to
the opening in the rock two men were
engaged in driving down the stakes of
a small, comfortable-looking tent. Near
by, two horses and a mule were tethered,
and between the stamping animals and
the busy men, a saucepan simmered on
a fire. A tin teapot, a few other utensils,
and some unpacked luggage, all within
a few feet of the fire, completed the
catalogue of strange objects presented to
view.

It could be seen at a glance that one of
the men was a mountaineer from the lower
valley. As a twig snapped under Corona's
foot, the other man looked up quickly, saw

86 Corona of the Nantahalas.

her, and came forward. There was still
light enough for the girl to observe that he
was tall, with striking but not handsome
features. His dark hair and eyes seemed
the darker in contrast with the pallor of his
face. He wore a woollen cap, a grey Nor-
folk jacket, and dark trousers ; and though
neither of the latter fitted as well as they
might, it was evident that he was a man of
the world. As he approached. Corona re-
gretted that she had not exchanged her
plain working garb for one of her Greek
gowns.

"Good evening, madam," he said. ''I
suppose you are from Mr. McLeod's ?"

"Yes. I was passing this way — I did
not know you were here," she answered.

"My name is Edward Darnell. I have
come here in order to study the flora — the
plants. We passed your house this after-
noon, and would have stopped, but saw no
one about. There was little time to lose,
and we came on here and struck camp.
Do you suppose Mr. McLeod will have
any objection to my camping here for a
time ? "

"None at all, I am sure. How could
he?"

Corona of the Nantahalas. 8/

"Thank you. I thought it a suitable
place on account of the little cave. I can
build my fire there on rainy nights."

It occurred to Corona that to make a
kitchen of that cave would be a desecra-
tion, and it was the expression of her face
which prompted him to add :

" But perhaps I intrude. It seems to
have been used "

"You do not intrude. It was only used
as a playhouse when my cousin and I were
children. You are welcome to it."

Again he expressed his thanks, and she
turned to move away. " I must go. My
uncle will like to see you at the house," she
said.

Darnell had contracted the unwholesome
habit of thinking aloud at times, from living
much alone, and when she had gone, and
he turned toward the fire, he absently re-
marked — the mountaineer being too far
away to hear :

" She doesn't make as striking a picture
as I expected — for of course this is she.
I might have known that Summerfield's
imagination had coloured everything con-
nected with her."

VIII.

"I LIKE your mountains," said Darnell, with
great cheerfulness. ** Already I have dis-
covered a new plant — a new species. I say
new — it may be as old as the mountains
themselves; what I mean is that it is not
recorded in the books. At this rate I shall
be on the high road to fame before the
summer is over."

" Is it worth so much to find a new
plant ? " asked Corona.

*^It is a distinct gain for science."

Darnell sat on a goods box near his tent.
Stretched out at full length in front of him
lay Dan, devouring him with his glance;
and close to the deaf mute Corona sat up-
right in a low hammock. Two weeks had
passed since the botanist's arrival, and all
his arrangements for a summer's sojourn
were now complete^. The mountaineer who

Corona of the Nantahalas. 89

had brought him and his goods up from
the lower valley had long since returned,
taking the horses on which they had ridden,
and the pack-mule which had staggered
beneath the weight of the tent, the blankets,
the canned goods, the outmeal, and the rest
of the camper's outfit. Several visits had
meanwhile been made at the farm-houee,
where he was cordially entertained, and
Darnell now felt well acquainted with its
unusual inhabitants, and thoroughly do-
mesticated at Lonelv Cove.

Corona interested him intensely from the
first, not as a type — or rather as a unique
specimen — of womankind, not as a literary
artist's material or model, but as a women,
as a strong, free nature which had de-
veloped beyond the reach of the trivialities
of civilization. A certain vague disap-
pointment, which had been felt at the
first glimpse, was quickly effaced and for-
gotten.

The cave was hardly half a mile away,
but Corona had felt shy about going there,
and it was only now, at the end of two
weeks, that she took Dan with her and
made their new neighbour a visit. Gideon
McLeod had gone several times, and the

go Corona of the Nantahalas.

two men had sat and smoked together with
great amity, each seeming to like and re-
spect the other from the first meeting.

Almost as a matter of course, Darnell
was soon cordially invited to make the farm-
house his home, but he politely refused.
In order to make amends for what seemed
to them a shockingly inhospitable state of
things, the McLeods sent Dan to tlie camp
with frequent presents— as a chicken pre-
pared for the pot, or a hind quarter of
mutton or venison.

After this first visit, Corona found it
easier to go, and as time passed their inter-
course became more and more a source of
pleasure. Later on it seemed the most
natural of all things to walk out with Dan
every afternoon and halt for some time at
Darnell's camp, while the young man, on
his part, fell readily into the habit of
spending two hours each evening at the
farm-house, smoking on the porch with
Gideon McLeod, but talking mostly for the
benefit of Corona, who always sat by.

''Do you believe in the gods, Edward?"
the girl asked suddenly, as they walked
together in the woods one afternoon, ac-
companied only by the earless Dan.

Corona of the Nantahalas, 91

"It perhaps does not matter here," said
Darnell, *' but if you were out in the world
it would not do to call a young man by his
Christian name, unless you had known him
very intimately for a long while."

"I did not know," said Corona, with a
blush. After some hesitation she continued:
*'I always spoke to Henry so, although I
saw him only for a few days, and he did
not — tell me." It was her first reference to
Summerfield.

*'He ought to have told you."

^' Did you know him?" she faltered.
This question had many times trembled on
her lips.

"If you mean Henry Summerfield, yes.
I saw him recently. He is a friend of

mine."

"Is he— well?"

"He is the picture of health."

" Will he come to the mountains to — to —
see you ? "

"Not likely. No ; I don't think he will
ever come here again."

They walked on then in silence till they
reached a point where the little mountain
river which Corona had named from the
Homeric Simois fell with a thunderous roar

92 Corona of the NantaJialas.

some seventy feet over the rocks. There
they halted long, and she, half smiling, half
serious, bade him listen and he would hear
the naiads singing. She freely told him how
often she had waited and watched along the
stream, hoping to see them ; she knew they
came out and spoke to the dryads of the
forest when she had gone.

" These are only the poetic fancies of the
ancients," he said, hardly smiling. '^ They
are not to be entertained seriously, as
realities."

" They have been very real to me." After
a moment's thought she added : ^' You did
not answer about the gods."

''Did you mean to ask if I believed the
gods really existed ? If so, certainly not.
The ancients may have seen something of
a hidden and true meaning in those old
tales, but to us they are nothing but fables.
There were many noble men among the
ancients, but even these for tlie most part
groped in comparative darkness."

"I cannot believe that — not as yet," re-
sponded Corona, earnestly. " To me the
ancients seem to have been the best and
wisest of men, understanding the most pro-
found questions,"

Corona of the Nantahalas. 93

'' It is likely enough/' he rejoined, '' that
they often saw a meaning ia what is to us
meaningless/'

" Can you tell me why it is," she asked,
^' that when I have good thoughts all things
appear more pleasing ? Even the birds fly-
ing across my path are then the harmless
and beautiful ones. But when I have evil
thoughts there is a change — nothing is
beautiful, and if I walk out I am sure to
see birds of prey, or snakes, and such ugly
things."

'^ You never think or do evil ?"

" Indeed, yes. Does not every one, at
times ? I remember once when my aunt
wanted me to weave, I refused, and ran
away to the woods ; and the first things I
saw were a hawk, a toad, and a poisonous
snake."

The next day she asked him if he under-
stood the Logos of Plato, and by way of
rejoinder he said :

^^ You know too much about the ancient
world and not enough about the modern.
It is certainly true that the modern world
is more or less over-educated as to the head
and gone to decay as to the heart, and in
some ways the ancient was perhaps best;

94 Corona of the Nantahalas.

but the latter is ages gone, while the former
is at hand. You must read some modern
books."

He said he' had a few that would be use-
ful to her, and proposed that they read
them together and discuss them — which
suggestion pleased her greatly. ^' I am not
a wise man/' he said, smiling, " but I can
tell you a good many things that you need
to know.''

*' You are not beautiful like Henry,"
Corona naively informed Darnell one day
toward midsummer, " but you are good,
most good, and I like you as I never liked
any one before, except him. If I could
have a brother, I should wish him to be
you."

" I should prefer some one else to be
your brother ! " he answered quickly, a
strange glow leaping to life in his quiet
eyes.

Corona supposed he must be offended,
wondered wherefore, and changed the sub-
ject. A day or two later, as they talked
over a book they had read together in which
there was much about love, she fully con-
fessed her feeling for Summerfield, earnestly
avowing that she could never love another.

Corona of the NantaJialas. 95

and describing what displeasure was ex-
cited in her bj the attentious of her moun-
taineer suitors. Darnell listened without
much comment, the same curious fire in
the eyes which now and then were fixed
upon her.

''What a Penelope you are!" he said, as
she referred to her suitors from the valley.

"Am I not rather a Calypso or a Dido,
since Henry has deserted me?" she asked
frankly, almost mournfully.

" Far from it. You did not love as they
loved. No; your love was only a thing of
the imagination."

'' If you but knew what pain I felt — still
feel," she said, solemnly.

"Love is a union of two minds or souls
of a similar cast which mentally attract
each other," he pursued. " There cannot
be this union until two people thoroughly
know each other inwardly as well as out-
wardly, and no two can come to know each
other in this way in the space of a few days.
Therefore your love was not real."

But she refused to be convinced, and the
next day, in order to refute him, brought
her journal and read aloud to him much of
what she had written during the past year

96 Corona of the NantahaL

tto.

Darnell listened with profound interest, dis-
relish, admiration, amazement, written on
his face bj turns.

''What do you say now, dear friend?"
she asked at last.

The young man was slow to answer.
''I am of the same opinion," he said at last.
"This writing does not prove that you
truly loved, but I think it proves that you
might become a poet."

IX.

OxE day, when Dan was too busy to ac-
company her, serenely ignorant of the im-
propriety of such a j)roceeding, Corona
visited the camp alone. Glad enough to
have her all to himself, Darnell, too, forget
conventionality and proposed her favourite
ramble. Together the two then walked or
climbed to the top of Mount Parnassus.
Darnell thought no pen could suggest the
impressiveness of the endless mountain soli-
tudes encompassing them. To him the sol-
emn stillness was sometimes terrible, and yet
beautiful, for it seemed to speak with a thou-
sand faint and far away voices of things
ineffable; fit abiding place for the poet-
souled girl at his side.

They spoke frequently of things beyond
their surroundings, and were more intent
on each other than on the sights before

98 Corona of the Nantahalas,

their eyes ; but afterward it seeraed to Dar-
nell that every smallest detail of that moun-
tain climb was pictured on his memory.
The vast solitude, the profound stillness
full of strange whisperings, the endless for-
ests, the brawling streams, the deep ravines,
the gardens of white birches, the jungles
of dark laurel, the vivid colours of the
rhododendron, the still ferns, the damp
green mosses on the rocks, the black balsams
shuddering and groaning before the gale at
the summit, the cold sweep of the air cur-
rents over then arrow, grass grown "bald,"
the pale sunlight and azure sky, the deep,
deep, hazy valleys, the crow^ding blue moun-
tains far away — this was the picture that
went with him for days as a background
for the yet more vivid image of the girl at
his side.

As they climbed upward their con-
versation wandered to the subject of the
Muses.

"Did you name this mountain Parnassus
because you thought the immortal Nine
would be more likely to appear to you here
than elsewhere ? " asked Darnell.

^•'Yes. I thought they would choose it
because it was the most beautiful."

Corona of the Nantahatas. 99

^^It may be that Calliope lias appeared
to you," said the young man, turning upon
his companion a pair of laughing eyes.
*' Doubtless she came while you were asleep,
imprinted a kiss on your forehead, and left
her shadow behind. Then, in the morning,
you rose and began to write those poetical
fancies."

^'I used to hope especially to meet Cal-
liope and Clio here," she told him seriously.
^' They were my favourites. But after Henry
left it seemed to me that Melpomene would
more likely visit me."

'^ It may be that /have made the acquain-
tance of Erato without seeking it," said
Darnell with heightened colour, then abruptly
called Corona's attention to a rare flower
which they were passing.

. As they stood on Parnassus' grass-covered,
treeless top an hour later, and looked far out
0:1 an endless scene of mountain peaks and
ridges crowding to the horizon in every
quarter, some of them in shadow, some
gleaming in the pale sunlight — all wooded,
the nearer dark green, the distant milky
blue, and none marked by a single clearing
or sign of a human habitation — as tliey
gazed upon this indescribably grand and

100 Corona of the Nantahalas.

louely prospect, the botanist's quick eye
took note that clouds were gathering and
drifting toward their own lofty point.
Slowly the great aerial monsters swam to-
ward them from the far horizon, becoming
more and more clearly outlined as they
drew near. Some were above, some on a
level, and some below the top of Parnassus;
all basked in a sea of sunshine from above,
contrasting with the darker atmosphere
below through which the rain fell fast as
from great sieves. Enormous patclies of
shade in the deep valleys below imitated the
uncertain movements of the great Protean
creatures on high.

As the vast, ragged cloud-bodies floated
nearer, sudden flashes of lightning zig-
zagged from one to another, and a deafen-
ing roar of thunder reverberated through
the mountains. The suggestion was of
gigantic swimming monsters at war, each
plunging a sword of flame into the breast
of his adversary, and bellowing hoarsely
and mightily when so served in turn.
As the battle raged, the loosened rain
descended upon the fair valleys in tor-
rents.

** We shall get wet," announced Darnell.

Corona of the Nantahalas. loi

''Those clouds will be here in less than
fifteen minutes. "

He turned to go, but Corona still gazed
enrapt, loath to move. A second suggestion
of retreat was made, somewhat more
urgently, and then they hurried away on
the downward track. They had scarcely
entered the forest when the treeless top of
the peak was enveloped in the higher va-
pours, and in a few minutes the wliole upper
portion of the mountain was wrapped in the
dense gray mist we call a cloud. Hurrying
downward through this, they soon passed
beloTv^ the region of cloud-land, where the
rain no longer floated, but fell, and fell
heavily.

They were now not far from the hollow
tree where Atalanta had fallen a prey to
the wolves, and it was decided to seek the
shelter of that retreat. Corona led the way
at a run, and they reached the place in time
to escape a thorough drenching. There
they were obliged to remain an hour or
more, as the rain continued to fall steadily,
accompanied by blinding flashes of light-
ning and a perceptible quaking of the
mountain after each thunderous roar.

The hollow of the tulip was far from

I02 Corona of the Na7itaJialas.

ample, and the refugees were necessarily
bronglit into close contact. As they sat
thus, while the storm raged without, Darnell
was obliged to struggle hard to resist the
oft-recurring desire to put his arm around
his companion. They were all alone on
the wild, stormy mountain; each had only
the other, and should be all the world to
that other. How Darnell wished it were
literally true that she had liim only! Corona,
on her part, felt now and then that she would
like to rest her tired head on his shoulder,
just as she would have done had Dan been
at her side instead; he was such a dear,
wise friend, had become so necessary to
her, and she liked and trusted him so
thoroughly.

"I wish you were my brother," she said
innocentlv at last. "Then we could be
together always."

** Don't say such things — it is too painful
to listen to!" he rejoined quickly, and as
she looked into his face she saw that he was
deeply moved.

" What can you mean ? " she asked in
astonishment and concern.

''I mean that this is a strange world,
where love wastes itself on every side, in

Corona of the Nantahatas. 103

vain. You love Summerfield, or think you
do, and he will never love jou. I love you,
and you cannot love me. You want me to
be your brother, and I want you to be my
wife ! "

'' Oh, Edward ! "

'^ It is true. I asked your uncle last
week if I might become a suitor, and he
agreed."

'* I am very sorry," she said, simply, a
pained look on her face. **I can never love
again."

Darnell started up suddenly. '^ I must
get out of this," he said, huskily, and stepped
outside.

Fortunately the rain had now decreased
to a drizzle. He stood in it waiting, bid-
ding her remain where she was. A few
minutes later she ventured out in spite of
his protest. However, the drizzle was soon
over now.

'^ I was never in love before, and it is hard
to bear ; but you need not be afraid of me,"
he said, with a ghostly smile.

" I shall never be afraid of you," she
answered gently.

Tho subject was then dismissed. Calling
him to look at the pile of stones over the

104 Corona of the N ant ahalas.

grave of Atalanta, Coroua told the story of
the memorable day of the poor hind's
death. And afterward, as they descended
the mountain, he walked ahead in silence,
carefully shaking the rain from the branches
which must touch her.

X.

Corona did not visit the camp next day,
but Darnell came to the farm-house as usual
in the evening, and sat and smoked with her
uncle on the porch. As he rose to go at
nine o'clock, she rose, too, and accompanied
him to the gate.

" If what you told me yesterday is — is
true," she said, *' perhaps we should see less
of each other."

^' Do you want to torture me ! " he asked
with such a fierceness of gloom that she was
frightened.

" That is why — why I did not go to-day,"
she added gently, then said good-night, and
turned toward the house.

Next morning, while out in the mountains
looking after his sheep, Gideon McLeod had
a fall and sprained his ankle so severely
that, although he dragged himself home,

i 06 Corona of the Nantahalas,

lie was confined to the house a week there-
after. At first he suffered much pain, and
the two anxious women cared for him very
tenderly. Thus Corona^ who doubted the
wisdom of going near Darnell, found an
excuse for staying at home.

It was near noon 0^ tlie third day after the
accident that Jonathan Scruggs, Corona's
persistent suitor, appeared at the gate and
hailed her uncle. His manner was excited,
and his horse was wet with sweat and
flecked with foam. Evidently he had ridden
up from the lower valley in great haste.

Mrs. j\rcLeod went out and invited him
to *' 'light," beginning at once to tell him
of the accident to her husband. The visitor
listened to the particulars with manifest
signs of impatience. He was a well-grown
young man of twenty-five, already a little
inclined to be stout, whose excessively florid
complexion was perhaps partly due to
exposure, but more largely to vigorous
health.

" I ain't got time to 'light," said he, look-
ing behind him anxiously. '^ They'll be
h-yer turreckly. I li-yeared 'em say thar to
Wolf Creek that the revenue men and the
sheriff aimed to 'rest Gid McLeod, and I rid

Corona of the Na7itahalas. 107

up right off to tell you, so the old man 'ud
have time to hide out."

"'Eest him for what?'' asked Mrs.
McLeod, bewildered.

"Fur distillin' whisky."

"He ain't no distiller," declared the
wife, indignant.

"Well, that's what they're after him fur,
and I thought 1 ought to let you all know.
Good-bye — I'm gone. They'll be h-yer in
ten minutes, and it won't do fur 'em to see
me. It was all I could do to git h-yer first."

" Thank you, Jonathan," called out
Corona, who had come out on the porch
and overheard everything. To gain favor
with her had been the young mountaineer's
main object in coming, and he now de-
parted well satisfied with himself.

The two women hurried in and reported
everything to the lame man. As it was
impossible to go forth and hide himself in
the mountains, Gideon McLeod decided to
stay where he was, ordering the house shut
up close in order to give the impression
that nobody was at home. To Corona this
seemed unwise, but she knew not what else
to suggest. Before the door was closed,
however, she took a horn out on the porch

io8 Coroita of the Natitahalas.

and blew three long blasts. Darnell had
proposed that she should call him in this
way if she should ever have need of him,
and she felt sure he would be of use
now.

When shut up, the house looked inno-
cent enough, except in one particular — the
smoke issuing from one of the chimneys.
A fire burned in the room where the lame
man lay, and this fact was overlooked in his
calculations. Accordingly, when four horse-
men shortly emerged from the woods and
halted at the gate they were not deceived.
After a careful survey of their surroundings,
three of them dismounted and approached
the house. One of these was the county
sheriff, another a revenue collector. The
former knocked loudly at the door, and
after some moments of dead silence called
out authoritatively :

" Open this h-yer door! In the name of
the law I summons Gideon McLeod to
come out."

The majesty of the law was disregarded,
for there was no response, and the only
sound was that of the sheriff's loud knock
as it w^ent off echoing among the hills.
After knocking and calling repeatedly, the

Corona of the Nantahalas. 109

angry representative of the law uttered an
oath and shouted:

'' Bring me the axe ! They can't fool me."

Gideon McLeod leaped out of bed and
reached for his gun, which stood in the
corner of the room; but as he came down
upon his lame foot his face was distorted
with agony, and he fell groaning on the
floor. Leaving Mrs. McLeod with him,
Corona disappeared along the passage
leading to the back porch. Unfastening
the door, she went out and shut it softly
behind her. Then she walked around the
house and faced the intruders.

" What do you want here ? " she asked
haughtily.

All eyes were riveted upon her, and ad-
miration showed on every face. Corona
had never been so angry in all her life.
Her faced was flushed, her eyes flashed, her
breath came in short, quick gasps. They
thought her beautiful beyond all the re-
ports they had heard.

"We "want Gid McLeod," said the
sherifl', after dropping the axe jast brought
him and backing away from the door.
"We got a warrant to arrest him for dis-
tillin' whisky."

I lo Corona of the Nantahalas.

" Are you the sheriff ? " asked the girl.

*'I am, mura."

*^And you intend to arrest an innocent
man ? "

" We got the proofs, mum. A man was
up h-yer some time back and seen it goin'

on."

'^ Which man was that ? " demanded
Corona, looking eagerly from one face to
another. ^'Is there a man here who will
dare tell me he saw it going on ? " Again
she looked from one to another, and every
eye quailed before her.

" We got the proofs," repeated the sheriff
uneasily.

^' The man who says he saw whisky dis-
tilled here Z/es," spoke Corona, in low,
distinct tones. ** Were he sheriff, judge or
king, I would tell him to his face that he
lies."

The three men stared at their accuser,
dumbfounded. There was now th sound of
the opening of the gate. Corona glanced
that way, saw Darnell, and ran to meet him
eagerly.

'•These wicked men," she said excitedly,
'-want to arrest my uncle and carry him
away to jail."

Corona of the Nantahalas. in

She hurriedly told him of the warning
brought by Scruggs, of her uncle's deter-
mination to shut up the house, of the
arrival of the raiders, and of the assault
upon the door. As soon as the situation
was clearly before him Darnell advised her
to go instantly and open every door and
window, and tell her uncle not to be
alarmed. Then he walked forward and
spoke to the men.

*' Surely you have made a mistake and
come to the wrong place," he began
mildly.

'' No, we hain't," declared the sheriff.
"Ef this warn't the place, what made 'em
lock up that way and try to fool us ? "

*' They received warning of your ap-
proach and were badly frightened — that
was all."

'^ Warning, eh ? We knowed somebody
rid up ahead of us. We seen the fresh
tracks."

"There is no whisky distillery here,"
Darnell declared earnestly. ^' I have
camped for seven weeks within half a
mile of this house, and spent a great deal
of my time here, and I have seen no
signs of anything of the sort. You are

•112 Corona of the Nantahalas,

on the wrong scent, and you will find it
out/'

They saw that they had to deal with an
intelligent man of the world, and listened
to him respectfully. The sheriff, who had
heard of the " camping gentleman," and
was not surprised to meet him, showed his
warrant. The revenue collector also
stepped forward, and unfolding a news-
paper which he took from his pocket, he
invited Darnell to look at the "proof."
The latter saw at a glance that it was a
copy of the paper with which Summerfield
had a regular connection. He found that it
contained a letter from the North Carolina
mountains signed " Henry Summerfield,"
with such startling headlines as " On the
Track of the Moonshiners," ''How the
Mountain Dew is Bought and Sold," "Our
Correspondent Discovers an Illicit Dis-
tillery at Lonely Cove."

Glancing hastily through the letter,
Darnell's eyes were arrested by the follow-
ing paragraph :

*'The cave was naiTOW at the opening, but
widened as we proceeded. A number of dark,
irregular passages strayed off from the central

Corona of the Nantahalas. 1 1 3

cavern which we were following. An unex-
pected turn brought us upon the place. Sud-
denly an uncertain, reddish haze swam before
our eyes ; then came dusky, distorted figures,
curling smoke, and a fixed band of flamy red —
the latter, as was soon found, being the coals
visible beneath the closed door of the furnace.
At this moment the door itself was thrown open
with a rusty creak, the strong red light revealing
several uncouth figures, one bent over to feed
the fire, another seated on an inverted basket,
a third but dimly outlined in the gloom beyond.

The central feature of the

place was the rude furnace of fire rock, with
its all-important . accompaniment of a small
copper still, the neck of which curved away
into the shadow. The sound of gurgling water
from an underground spring was heard, as it
flowed through the tub where the worm was
coiled and served to condense the precious
vapors which dripped slowly into the primitive
receiver."

''Have you noticed that this paper is
nearly a year old ?" asked Darnell, breaking
off from what he was reading.

''Yrs/' replied the revenue collector,
rather uneasily. ''The fact is, that marked
copy was mailed to me last fall, but it
got misplaced, and T only read the article

1 14 Corona of the Nantahalas.

two weeks ago. I began to try to find out
where Lonely Cove was right off, but didn't
succeed till I stopped at Wolf Creek yester-
day. They told me there that Gideon
McLeod was the only man who had a
place up here, so I got out a warrant against

'^And on such a flimsy bit of evidence as
this you expect to drag a man away from his
home ?"

^' Well, you see, I calculated to surprise
him and get positive proof."

**If you can do that, justice will be on
your side," said Darnell. ^' But you will
have to go to work and find that wonderful
cave and all it contains, as described in this
paper. There is a cave — a very little one —
but you will be mightly disappointed when
you go through it. I venture to say that if
you kept a spy in these mountains for six
months, you would get no more 'proof than
you have now."

'^ Well, we'll take a look around anyhow,"
said the revenue collector, with a knowing
look, but yet with somewhat of a disap-
pointed air.

'^ We'd hardly have a right to take him,
less'n we could find a plant or a stock of

Corona of the Nantahalas, 1 1 5

liquor some'res about," remarked the sheriff
dubiously, inclining to Darnell's view of
the case. He had a lurking sympathy for
McLeod, innocent or guilty. He had never
been able to understand why a man should
not be allowed to turn a portion of the
fruits of his own cornfield and orchard into
pure, colourless whisky and applejack, and
even sell a little of it if he chose ; and his
motive in accompanying the revenue col-
lector w^as no more nor less than to make a
show of doing what he considered his duty.
He had grown angry, and called for an axe
to beat down the door, because he felt
that his authority should have been more
promptly recognized.

" I happen to know the man who wrote
this letter," said Darnell, again glancing
into the paper; ''in fact, he considers him-
self a friend of mine. I know that he spent
a few days here last summer. He talked
to me a great deal about his stay here, but
said not a word about moonshine whisky.
I know something of his habits as a
journalist — I have found him inaccurate
before — and I give you my word, gentlemen,
that the whole thing is a pure invention — a
newspaper yarn.^'

1 1 6 Corona of the Na?itakaias.

*^Do you mean he had a grudge "

began the sheriJB^.

'*0h, no. He didn't do it maliciously.
If he had supposed the result would be
anything like this, I am sure he wouldn't
haye done it. He merely wanted to write
a sensational and readable letter, and doubt-
less assured himself that no reader of the
* Chronicle ' would have the remotest idea
wlicre Lonely Cove was. Write to this
Summerfit'ld in care of this paper, and he
will confirm what I tell you.^'

Corona now appeared on the porch,
having conferred with her uncle, and opened
the house, as she had been advised to do.
Darnell invited the men to enter, and talk
the matter over with McLeod, which they
did, the sheriff being moved to apologize
for his violence. As a matter of course, the
suspected man swore that he was innocent,
and bade his accusers search the premises.
The afternoon was spent in doing this. The
house, the barn, the neighbouring woods,
including Darnell's tent and Calypso's cave,
were carefully searched, without the dis-
covery of a single trace of ''mountain dew,"
or the machinery of its manufacture. Darnell
followed them over every foot of ground.

Corona of the Nantahatas, 1 1 /

and toward sundown returned with them
to the farm-house. The revenue collector
was greatly annoyed and disgusted, and
swore roundly at the writer of the misleading
article.

" Either that man was a blamed liar, or
there is a still up here somewhere. We'll
keep on the look-out, I promise you/' he
said to Darnell, who disdained to reply.

Gideon McLeod sent his timid wife out
to ask the party to wait for supper before
starting on their fifteen mile ride, but they
had the grace to refuse this invitation.

'*! wish you'd give me that newspaper,"
said Darnell, as the revenue ofiBcer was
mounting his horse.

" What do you want with it ?"

" I want it," said the young man simply,
a rising flush on his face.

"What good would that do?" — sus-
piciously. *^I could send for another easy
enough."

*' Certainly you could. I had no such
object in asking for it ; my object is a
private one. I will engage to return the
paper promptly, if you will give me your
address."

A few minutes later the party rode away,

1 1 8 Corona of the Nantahalas.

leaving their copy of the mischief-making
newspaper behind. Darnell folded it care-
fully and put it in his pocket, then called
out to Corona:

^^ Tell your uncle not to be uneasy. They
won't come back." And then, instead of
going to listen to their thanks, as the girl
was hoping he would do, he *bade her good
nightj and took the path leading to his
solitary camp.

After this Corona hesitated no longer.
Go to him she must and would, and thank
him for his friendly help in a time of great
need. The following afternoon she took
Dan with her and walked to the camp.
They found the botanist lying in his ham-
mock reading, his work for the day evidently
being done. Near him on the ground lay
an unfolded newspaper, and on a box within
reach of his hand several books. He was
so absorbed in what he read that he did
not observe their approach. Not until
Corona stooped to pick up the newspaper
did he see them and start up with a glad
look of welcome.

^'It brings back the old days to see you
here again," he said.

*' Those days are hardly ' old,' are they ? "

Corona of the Nantahalas. 119

she answered. '''It is less than a week since
I was here."

*' It seems a twelvemonth."

Dan threw himself on the ground and
began absorbing them with his eyes, as
usual. Darnell invited Corona to sit in
the hammock, and clearing tlie box of its
weight of books, moved it away a little and
seated himself thereon. The girl remarked
that he had seemed deeply interested in his
book, and suggested that he should go on
with it a little longer while she examined
the newspaper ; she had seen but few during
her life, and these were all old.

The proposal was agreed to, but although
he reopened his book, Darnell did not read
a line. His attention was riveted on the
girl. He marked that she glanced aimlessly
at the headings in the paper for a few
moments, then suddenly an intent look
crept into her eyes, and her glance wandered
no more. A flush overspread her face as
she read, and her breath quickened. The
minutes passed ; her glance gradually trav-
elled down to the bottom of the sheet,
then leaped to the top, and continued
steadily down to the middle, where the
article was apparently signed and came to

120 Corona of the Nantahatas.

an end, for her eye descended no further.
As she came to the stopping place and
paused, the observer marked that her height-
ened colour gave place slowly to a deadly
paleness, and tiiat her eyes were full of
quickening fire. The paper dropped to her
lap and she looked up.

^^ Have you read this article, this 'On the
Track of the Moonshiners ' ? '^ she asked, in
a voice so unlike her own that he was
startled.

•'Yes, I have read it."

*' Where did you get the paper ? ''

'* That revenue man gave it to me yester-
day/'

" And it was this that brought them here,
that made them suspect my uncle ? " She
stood erect as she asked the question, the
expression of her face showing that the
inquiry was needless.

"Yes."

" It is so difficult to believe — that he
wrote this. How can it be true ? '^ she
asked, with a sound in her throat resembling a
sob. For one moment she looked stupefied
— crashed.

''It is certainly true,''' said Darnell, look-
ing into his book.

Corona of the Nayitahalas, \1\

''And it was such a man as this that I
hare loved ! " It was a cry of incredulity
— of angry realization — of sore pain. Her
spirit was not broken.

Darnell threw down the book and looked
into the forest with flashins; eyes. What
could he say to her ? Could he be expected
to defend such a man as Sumnierfield, and
when that man was his rival ? It would be
ranting hypocrisy, cant, lying. He said
nothing.

'*Hesiod declared that there had been a
golden age, a silver, a brazen, and finally in
his own day the age of iron," said Corona,
reseating herself and looking absently before
her. *' Tills, must be the age of a baser metal
still — the age of clay, of mud, of mire !"

" I must say to you, as I said to those
men yesterday," spoke up Darnell, ''that
Summerfield did not do it maliciously, and
doubtless believed no harm could come of
it." He went on to repeat what he had said
the day before as regarded the journalist's
motives.

'''It is just as much a lie," said Corona,
silmost fiercely.

"Many would not consider it so — would
see something of palliation."

122 Corona of the Nantahalas.

Her expression showed liim that she was
unalterably fixed in her opinion. She rose
and moved toward him with outstretched
hands.

** You told me once that I knew too little
about this modern world, and you were
right/' she said. *^I know too little how a
sincere and beautiful face can be made the
mask of a wicked heart. Teach me — teach
me to see behind the mask."

He took her hand, lifted it and gently
kissed it. But she promptly drew it away.

*^0h, no, not that," see pleaded. '*I
cannot love again. You are my dear friend,
my brother ; but I can love no more in
that way."

'*It is something gained to know that
you no longer love another," he answered
hopefully.

The next day Corona burned the little
book in which she had written so often
while thinking of Summerfield. She slowly
tore out leaf after leaf and committed it to
the flames, wdth never one thought of a
possible literary value which the work
might possess, or a regret of any other
nature. She wished to be rid of all re-
minders — to start afresh. She was still

Corona of the Nantahalas. 123

ignorant that she had been loving a mere
phantom, but understood at least that she
loved no longer.

** Thus perish the memory of that beau-
tiful wicked one," was her thought.

XL

Some days later^ when yisiting the camp in
the company of the silent Dan, Corona told
Darnell that after burning her little book she
had determined to write no more sad
thoughts, and to have done with vain
imaginings. She had wished, while think-
ing no more of Snmmerfield, also to give
over her past follies, to dream no longer of
naiads and wood nymphs, to cease to fancy
the hemlock, the spouse of the pine, the
beech of the oak, the birch of the maple,
and to imagine never again that the dove
cooed sympathy, or that the crow and the
hawk mocked her in her pain.

She had striven to have done with all
these fancies, and to turn her thoughts
toward the realities which he had taught
her, but she had not wholly succeeded.

The old imaginations had not entirely

Corona of the Nantahalas. 125

vanished at her bidding; and one morning
a tale had taken form in her mind, and
grew and grew, and she had thought upon
it until it was pain. She had tried to for-
get it but could not, and so she had come
to him to ask advice.

^^ When a tune persists in haunting me,"
Darnell told her, '^my remedy is to ultimate
it by singing or whistling it, and then it
drops out of sight and leaves me in peace.
Suppose yon do that. Tell me your tale,
and it will then doubtless fade away from
your mind and trouble you no longer."'

Adopting the suggestion. Corona seated
herself on a stone a few feet from him, and,
casting her eyes down the long leafy vistas
of the forest, began to speak in soft and
low but measured and impressive tones,
her manner serene, fearless, free from every
appearance of self-consciousness. And this
was the tale she told:

In the honse of Orcus, the Athenian
archon, there was that day a happy mar-
riage. Philippa, his sisters daughter, had
been wooed and won by a gallant leader of
the hoplites, one Telamon, whose suit was
pleasing to the maid as well as to her kin-

126 Corona of the Nantahalas,

dred, and this was not always so in Athens.
No priest stood forth to bless the tie, but
wine was poured out before the altar of
Zeus in the great hall of the andronitis, or
male quarter, and before the never-for-
gotten shrine of white-souled Hestia in the
privacy of the female quarter. Votive
offerings had also been made to Here,
Artemis, and Aphrodite; all omens had
been anxiously observed; and lastly, the
bride had piously bathed in water from the
sacred fountain of Kalirrhoe. And so, after
a merry dinner in the house of Orcus, Tela-
mon and Philippa were man and wife.

At nightfall, arrayed in beautiful flower-
adorned robes, the veiled bride was assisted
to a chariot, and, preceded by slaves with
flashing torches and followed by a gay train
of friends, drove with her husband through
the streets of Athens, listening meanwhile
to the joyful notes of the marriage-song
and the cheerful piping of the flutes. This
till the house of Telamon was reached, when
the procession lost itself, all the kindred and
invited guests being led within and given
couches around the bauqueting-board.

The greatness of the occasion permitted
also the women to be present at the feast,

Corona of the Nantahalas. 127

but only at a separate table where the bride
still wore her veil and ate her food in dis-
creet and modest silence, her example fol-
lowed by all her friends. Nor was there
much speech at the table of the men until
the solids were removed and the dessert was
brought in, preceded by a golden vessel of
wine from which was poured out a liberal
libation. But after the finger-bowls of
scented water were handed round, and gar-
lands of myrtle and roses were distributed,
the symposium — the ^' feast of reason and
flow of soul " — began.

The women now retired to the gynae-
conitis, or female quarter, where, after con-
gratulations were spoken, the guests were
left with others of the household, and the
bride, together with her mother, withdrew.
The retired apartment which they sought
was small but richly furnished. Elaborate
frescoes on the walls showed the Graces, the
god Dionysos, and the harvesting of the
grapes. Soft purple rugs were scattered on
the marble floor, the centre of which was
marked with a delicate star-shaped mosaic.
The curiously-carved chairs and couch were
inlaid with ivory and gold, and over the
latter a scented coverlet of knitted peacock-

128 Corona of the Nantahalas.

plumes were spread. But the glory of the
room was a statue of the goddess Aphro-
dite, wrought hy Phidias a hundred years
before that day.

Upon a long, low-cushioned seat against
the farther wall, the two women silently
seated themselves. The elder, the widowed
Ariana — she whose solemn duty it was to
light the nuptial torch — was now gray-
haired and marked with age ; but the early
beauty of her face had not all faded, and
there was a noble patience in her manner
which told of sorrows long subdued but not
forgotten.

"Here will we talk, my daughter," she
began, with soft solemnity. **I need not
tell thee to be good and true, and ever love
thy husband ; for all this thou hast heard
full often, as together we spun the wool in
the days sinoe thy betrothal. Instead of
added counsel, let me now speak of what
befell at Delphi long ago. For thou wilt
surely hear it now from thy good husband,
and I would have thee know the tale, not as
men may please to tell it, but as it is written
on my heart.

'' Know then, Philippa, that in my youth
I was less merry and content than thou.

Corona of the Nantahalas. 129

A thoughtful, dreaming child, I early was
endowed with ardent faith in the invisible
world, learning before my time all that was
taught of the immortal gods and all the
histories of demi-gods and heroes. For
always, when the bards or the rhapsodes
came and sat in the court of the andronitis
and struck their harps, I begged to go out
and listen, and so heard many and long
recitals from the sacred books of Hesiod
and Homer, telling the grand story of the
days when gods and heroes walked upon the
highways of our world.

^^From a very child, I nursed the hope
that one day I might see a god, although I
heard it out of Hesiod that the golden age
was long gone by, and that men were now
too wicked to be thus blessed. But might
it not yet be in the hearts of the glorious
gods to manifest themselves at times to
chosen men ? And if I did no evil, and
worshipped with a pure and reverent heart,
might I not be chosen ? Assuredly the fell
spirits of evil whispered this proud thought
to me, for I did often strive to shun it as a
grevious sin; but always it came back and
followed me through the days and years.
Sometimes I ceased to strive, and lost myself

1 30 Corona of the Nantahalas.

in raj^turous contemplation of such a holy
destiny; and so it was, that, in every grove
or solitary place which I might chance to
visit, my fancy ever ran before me aod rev-
elled in the glorious presence of a god.

^'Thus dreaming on, I grew up tall and
handsome; and one day, Tcucer made pro-
posals to my father for my hand. Teucer
was a man in whom my father was well
pleased; but I had long abhorred him as
one of those rich and lazy Athenians who
refused to go out to battle when Epami-
nondas, the noble Tlieban, was humbling
haughty Laceda^mon, our ancient cruel
enemy. All this was 3'ears agone, but I
had not fore'otten. Mv mind and heart
alike rebelled against this Teucer, but my
father Avould not barken to my prayers.
No mother was there to pity me, and those
were sad days, my Philippa. I grew at
last to be a very shadow of my former self,
from grief, so that they feared for me and
hastened to make the accustomed offerings
to Esculapius. And then they ceased to
speak of Teucer for the time, and I came
slowly back to health.

''When almost well again, my father took
mo with my brothers to Delphi — thej to

Corona of the Nantahatas. 131

join in the celebnition of the Pjthiaa
festival, and I to be with them, looking to
their comfort, as they tarried there. Tiie
house in which we lodged at Delphi was
on the outskirts of the town, close on the
borders of the forest which leads up from
the shining Gulf of Corinth to the green-
clothed heights of Mount Parnassus, whereon
the Muses dwell. One day — my kinsmen
being gone — I stole out alone and lost
myself among the pines and laurels, the
olives and the myrtles, of this great wood.
It was the full noon of summer, and the
blessed Graces had clothed the world all in
a glory of colour, perfume, and brightness.
Up from the sea, ^'Eolus blew a sweet and
gentle breath; and, as I walked, I heard
the spirits of the air whispering softly
among the quivering leaves. Here was the
place: oh that I might now see a god!

** Suddenly a cuckoo fluttered swiftly by
me, and my startled eyes alighted on a
peacock, all with gorgeous plumes out-
spread. My heart leaped in my breast.
These were her birds: could she be coming?
Oould Here, beautiful-browed, ox-eyed
Here, Queen of heaven, be pleased to walk
abroad in this great w^ood? I fell, all

1 32 Corona of the NantaJialas,

trembling, on my knees, and lifted up my
heart to her in prayer.

" I waited long, yearning and hearkening,
while all was deathly still, save for the
spirit-whisperings among the trembling
leaves; but she came not. I rose up sadly
and wandered on; and when a hind ran
past me from the bush, the thought that it
might herald the approach of beloved
Artemis shook me again with hopes and
fears. But no goddess' presence blessed
the wood: I was unworthy. That well I
knew; and as I still moved forward, tears
came to ease my grieving heart. I plucked
some flowers, and took fresh hope ere long.
Might not I see a dryad or a river-god, or
at the least a water-nymph? But all along
the shore of a deep round pool I stole,
with bated breath and stealthy foot, in vain.

" At last, despondent, I rested in a smooth
green-swarded glade, and made a crown of
red oleander for my long, dark hair. Tlie
tireless whispering in the leafy heights was
mingled here with the sleopy drone of
golden bees and the far-off piping of strange
wild birds. My senses revelled in such
gentle uproar, and I tarried long. So came
it that the shadows of the tall tree- trunks

Corona of the Na7itahalas. 133

fell all nth wart tlie glade when at last I
started up from my forgetfulness, with in-
tent quickly to return to Delphi. But ere
I took a step, the sound, of fast-approachiug
feet fell on my ear; and as my eyes swept
hastily over the encompassing spaces, lo, I
beheld a youth who looked and walked a
very god.

^^In his right hand he swung a long
bright javelin ; and at his heels there fol-
lowed close a pearl-white goat. Except
for the laurel fillet round his head, he wore
naught save a leopard's skin about his
loins; but, my Philippa, not one of Phidias'
beauteous statues was ever so endowed
with grace of shape and poise. To me, the
dark clustering locks about his brow were
far more comely than a young king's crown.
In tremulous wondering joy I waited, as
with heavy step he came toward me down
the glade, the light twigs and leaves spray-
ing and scattering before his sandaled feet.
At last I had my wish : this — this must
be a god !

*' He saw me and halted, looking at first
amazed, then smiling brightly ; and as he
smiled, I thought of the liquid sun which
pours through breaking clouds.

1 34 Corona of the Nantahalas.

** With great respect, he asked me who I
was and whence I came, and, trembling, I
made answer:

** ' I am Ariana, a maid of Athens, who
long hath hoped and prayed to see a
god.'

" 'And hast thou seen one?' asked he,
with freshening smiles.

" ' Never till now — if now I have. I did
suspect thou wert no common man of
earth. '

'^ A look of laughing wonder danced
within his eyes; I marvelled that he should
seem so amazed and yet so merry. ' Thou
hast truly guessed,' quoth he at last, the
voice of laughter in his words. ' I am im-
mortal ; and down from high Olympus
have I wandered in this shepherd's guise,
to view the affairs of men.'

" Lo, it was even as T thought. My
knees quaked under me ; I bowed before
him to the ground, lifting my eyes in adora-
tion. I saw a swift shadow fall athwart his
face — a look almost of fear — as he stooped
in haste to raise me up.

" ' Thou shalt not kneel to me, fair maid,'
quoth he, with returning smiles ; ' for, by
right of beauty, thou art thyself almost a

Corona of the Nafitahalas. 135

goddess. Yea, I did take thee for the very
queen of dryads in tins wood/

"With hearing such sweet words of
praise, I presently grew more bold, and
asked of him ; * Art thou not the god
Apollo?'"

" Lightly laughing, he answered me : * I
will not tell thee now by what name they
call me on Olympus. Let it suffice thee
that I am immortal.'

" And then he took my willing hand, and
thus we went down though the wood to-
ward the sea, the frisking pearl-white goat
behind us. Ah, my Phi lip pa, the gates of
heaven seemed open to my view ; the
world was all a glorious happiness. The
whole forest sung for us as we passed.
From the tall tops of the oaks and pines, a
long, sweet welcoming whisper reached us ;
and from the vine-twined thickets of the
bending myrtles, there seemed to come the
voices of dryads in mingled chorus, faintly
swelling and falling. "The very crocus
seemed to scatter its scarlet blossoms in
homage as it brake before our feet.

"What said we to each other ? I asked
him timid questions about Olympus and
the under-world, and he — still with his

136 Corona of the Nantahata$.

sportive smile — made answer that our
sacred poets had told us all that it was meet
for men to know. Then he recited from
Hesiod and from Homer, like the bards,
but far more beautifully, although he had
no harp. Never before did the great poets
speak such grand things to my ear.

" The sandy verge of the Corinthian sea
was reached in time to view departed
Helios' after-glow upon the mountains and
mark the slow gathering of the dusky
spirits of night. Here we sat down to eat
the clusters of the early grape, which we
had gathered along our path. It was then
I asked him what was that ambrosia which
the gods were said to eat, and, with his
sunshine smile, he repeated the poet's
words, naming it as the food which gives
immortal life.

*'^ ' Oh that I, too, might taste that food ! '

"Without answer to my foolish words, he
looked suddenly toward the sea and cried :
' Behold the chariot of Artemis ! '

*'I turned and saw one half of the beau-
tiful golden orb, as if afloat upon the far
dark water, and then I knelt and said the
accustomed prayer to the glorious goddess
who rides in the changeful moon. As we

Corona of the Nantahatas. I'^J

watched her mount higher and higher up
the sky, I asked yet another question ; for
he seemed so full of sport and gentleness
that I ever felt more bold :

" *My lord Apollo, what do the gods when
among themselves and not concerned with
the affairs of men ? '

''At first he laughed outright, then turned
on me his eyes, which seemed to falter
betwixt mad merriment and concern. ' Let
me warn thee,' quoth he, in mild rebuke,
'that pitfalls lie in wait along the path of
the over-curious. Yet will I show thee what
the gods sometimes are pleased to do.'

" Then up he rose, and among the rocks
behind us found a round flat stone much
like the discus ; and, as the time Avore on,
he showed me many marvellous fea(s of disc-
throwing, leaping, and casting the javelin.
I sat there on the sand and watched him
with delight, as his long lithe form moved
back and forth between me and the dusky
arching sky, where Artemis' beauteous moon,
already become small and pale, climbed on
its upward track through scattered bits of
cloud.

XII.

Weary of this sport anon, lie sat him
down and sang for me, as never bard in
Athens sang, a love-song of beantiful-tongued
Sappho's. Listening absorbed, I marked not
that the light was fading fast, until I
chanced to look on high and beheld a dim-
ness in the moon. The orb now wore a
strange and gibbous look and seemed slowly
to withdraw behind a black and hideous
cloak. Already full one half its shinning
surface had been thus obscured.

*^^0h, look, my lord !' I ciied. MYhat
means it ? Is she angry ? Is great Artemis,
thy twin sister '

"He waited not to hear me; without a
word, he turned from me and went down
toward the darkening water. And as I fell
upon my knees, I saw him likewise bow
himself and lift his hands to heaven.

Corona of the Nantahalas, 139

"< Beloved Artemis, gentle goddess/ I
prayed in fear, ' why art thou angry ?
thou huntress, thou friend of water-uymphs,
thou careful guardian of all pure-hearted
maidens, what have I done to thy dis-
pleasure ? ' I hid my face in darkness on
the ground and further prayed; but when
I looked again, the goddess' chariot was
but a silver crescent against the devouring
darkness. And he — out there before me
on the sand, he still bowed low. In abject
fear, I crept to him.

" ' My lord,' I whispered, whereat he
turned and looked at me, his face all dark
and mournful.

''^'Twas thou,' quoth he, "twas thou —
not I ! '

'^ ^ My lord, what have I done ? '

''He made no answer, but fiercely seized
my hand and led me fast along the shore.
I strove in vain to match his rapid gait,
and anon I stumbled and almost fell. Bat
never did I murmur, such was my fear.
Yet, through all this, I wondered why he
should dread his sister's wrath.

" Into the dreaming woods, we came at
last, and fled alono^ a path which he ap-
peared to know. The dusky, sighing trees

140 Corona of the Nantahalas,

hovered high about us as if on spectral
wings, and reeled past swiftly in noiseless
crowding troops. Huge spirits of the earth,
with faint uncertain outHnes, seemed to rise
along our path and draw back whispering as
we passed. At every turn, the wood was
thick with nameless shapes, which sprang
up hastily from their beds of leaves, to
hearken with bent heads as the brittle twigs
snapped harshly beneath our feet.

*^The ground began to rise before us,
and cruel stones to bruise our feet, until
the world was all a blackness of despair
before my sight. * My lord, where go we ? '
I implored, and fell all breathless against
his side. And then in silence he took me
up and held me close and tenderly, and so
went on. Ere long, his breast was heaving
and he panted like a hunted stag, but
struggled on with equal pace and would not
set me down.

^^ The rest was like a dream. At last,
high up on the mountain's side, we gained
a level ground, and there I saw that Artemis'
beauteous orb was now a dull-red ghastly
spot upon the sky. I shut it, shuddering,-
from my sight, and looked no more to the
right or left until I was set gently down

Corona of the Naiitahalas. 141

before tlie threshold of a house. Then he
that carried me fell full length on the
ground, and raised his weary hands to beat
upon the door. The sound seemed loud
and harsh, and went off echoing on the
night air far among the hills. I wondered
why should he — a god — be weary; and
was amazed when anon a woman came to
let us in, and he cried to her frenziedly
from the ground :

*'' Mother — mother, take her in! Take
care of her, mv mother.'

"The woman faltered, but said: ^ Come
in.'' As one walks cloudily in a dream, I
followed her and left him panting and pros-
trate there. The woman led me straight-
way to a spare chamber of the house, gave
me milk to drink, and left me with scarce
a word. Like one stunned, I looked about
me stupidly for a time, then lay down
wearily and lost myself in sleep.

^' That night, I dreamed that, in a hollow
of the hills near Delphi, all the great gods
came and smiled on me. Pallas Athene
and Demetcr dressed me in a robe of
knitted oleanders and roses, and with
ambrosia anointed my head; then, beauti-
ful Aphrodite having sweetly kissed me

142 Coro7ia of the Nantahalas,

and clasped her starry girdle round my
waist, they led me — as they said — to meet
Apollo before the throne of Zens. And
wlien we came, lo, the god and the noble
youth of the leopard-skin were one I But,
all in a moment, there was then a wondrous,
frightful change. My heart grew deathly
sick to see the glorious goddesses trans-
formed to tittering bold-eyed Phokian
maids, and Zeus himself to a chubby-fisted
clown of Athens, who came down from his
throne, laughing a loud, coarse laugh. Only
my lord Apollo remained the same, and,
amid the loud derisive laughter of the rest,
he but smiled tenderly and held his arms
round me.

'' When I at length awoke, rosy fingered
Eos had long opened wide the doors of day,
and Helios' chariot had climbed far uj) the
sky. I rose in haste and looked about me
fearfully. What if he had gone! The
woman heard me and came in. She bade
the gods give me good health, and placed
goat's-milk, figs, and barley bread on a
table for me to eat.

** ^ Where is — he who brought me here ?'
I asked at once, and through the window
she showed me where he stood, not far

Corona of the Nantahalas. 143

from us, on the green brow of a steep in-
cline looking toward Delphi. Careless of
the food, I hastened out and found my way
to him.

He stood so still, and looked with such
strange earnestness at a single spot of
ground before him, that I marvelled and
was afraid. Nevertheless, I went close up
to him.

'*'My lord, why tarry we in this poor
hut?'

** Thereat he turned on me a deep and
mournful glance. ' I am not thy lord,'
he answered, very low. ' I lied to thee
when I called myself a god. I am Philo-
meu, a shepherd, and yonder dame's my
mothea\'

**The world recoiled — the land shrunk
away from my feet — suffocating mists
swam round before my eyes. At last —
at last I could see him and could speak:

'^ '■ Thou blasphemer! '

" ' Ay, so am I — the gods pardon me.'

^* ^Thou cunning rustic ! Thou—slave I'

"He leaped as though one struck him.
*Thou alone mayest dare to call me so,'
cried he, in vehement, husky tones. ' I
would have thee know that, if I am but

144 Corona of the Nantahalas.

a shepherd youtli, I have the hlood of
the Heracleid gens, and am as proud as
thou.'

"^Thou hast done honour to thy noble
gens/ I answered without pity.

'^ ' Let me go/ he cried, like one mad-
dened. ^My father will take thee safe to
Delphi.'

'' * Stay, thou lying shepherd/ I called, as
he was going. ^Explain to me how is it
that the just gods still let thee live.'

" I could not stand his gaze. I faltered,
recalling, how unwittingly I had tempted
him, how always he had laughed and
seemed but to sport. My anger was sud-
denly burned out and left me helpless.
The wide world was a desolation before my
eyes. I fell upon the grassy earth and
wept ; and, as I wept, I knew that he came
close to me and tarried there, although he
made no sound. At last, I called to him
from where I lay ; and by-and-by my
questions bade him speak. And so he told
me that not always had he lived a shepherd
boy on Mount Parnassus.

" He had been early sent to friends in
Thebes, there becoming excellent in all
athletic games and learning to repeat the

Corona of the Nantahalas. 145

poets by heart ; aud so, when he returned
to keep his father's sheep, he pined and
pined. He knew all the story of the grand
ancient days, — the voyage of the Argonauts,
the Kalydonian boar-hunt, the Trojan war ;
he envied and wished to rival Perseus and
Heracles, Theseus and Meleager, Jason and
Achilles ; he gloried in the Greeks who
fought at Marathon and Thermopylae, and
exulted in the story of Xenophon and the
Ten Thousand. Oh, that he too might go
forth to battle and become more than a
peaceful shepherd ! But Epaminondas had
long ago beaten Spartans at Leuctra
and Mantinea, and Greece was sunk and
decaying in the indolence of peace ; he
prayed the gods for war in vain. Xothing
was left but the four great festivals, and all
of these he visited — even the Olympian in
far Elis. He could have stood up bravely
before any man in Greece ; but only the
rich and great may enter the contests,
in these davs. So he came back from the
Olympian, self-crowned with olive, and
followed his sheep over this mountain
again, with rage in his heart. Likewise, after
the Isthmian, he crowned himself with pine,
and after the Nemean with parsley, only to

146 Corona of the Nantahalas.

tear up the wreaths anon, deriding himself
for the cheap device, while jet believing
that he mio-ht have fairlv won them. He
was fresh from the Pythian games with
another cheap-gotten fillet, this time of
laurel, when he met me in the wood and
sinned the sin of blasphemy, which is not
forgiven.

^^ His sin came not of a callous heart
onl3\ In Athens, he heard men say that
there were no gods — that the wise pronounced
them fables ; and he knew how banished
Pisistratus had regained control of the city
by leading forth a tall, handsome maid from
a village in Attica, and showing her to the
people as the goddess Athene. So he
doubted, asking himself, if the gods lived
and were greats would they suffer such
blasphemy. Then, too — he confessed hum-
bly — he had been made vain by a sculptor
in Corinth; Avho said the great Phidias would
have given a pile of gold to procure him as
a model for the Apollo.

'* * It all returned to me,' quoth he, 'when
I met thee yesterday and heard thy inno-
cent, trusting speech ; and so I lied to thee
in merry jest, repenting only when great
Artemis showed her anger. And then, as

Corona of the Nantahalas. 147

Delphi was far away, 1 brought thee hastily
to my father's house. And now I go, never
more to afflict thee with the sight of me. I
go over the mountain to Kirra, to procure
an ass whereon thou mayest ride as mv
father doth lead thee back to Delphi. But,
ere I go, let me tell thee that thy tears have
fallen with the pain of showering darts upon
my naked heart; and, though I go from
thee accursed of the gods, thy beauteous
face will ever go with me, a star to light my
forward path.'

**I looked not up, but heard his moving
feet. So he was gone — gone from me, and
the world was left a gaping void. All my
heart went forth to follow him on his way;
I felt that I should die if he were lost. I
got me up from the ground in haste and
searched for him with frantic eyes, calling
aloud his name.

''He was not far; he came to me on
winged feet. He caught me close and
kissed me on the mouth, and the mountain
seemed to swim as we stood lost in love's
embrace.

XIII.

And so I staid and was his wife. He
was no god ; he was but a Phokian shepherd
youth, but he would dwell forever in my
heart. We made our offerings to Zeus, to
Here, and to Artemis ; and then I said a
prayer to Aphrodite, and it was done. All
i:i secret made I my praye^' and in such wise :

" * O Aphrodite, queen immortal
Of love's blest joys in heaven begotten,
Bend down to me from thy pure ether;
Incline thine ear to my petition
thou most lovely !

" 'Breathe thou on him, O gentle goddess-
On him now yoked with me in marriage ;
Sow in his heart the seeds all golden
Of love most true, of love eternal,
From thee outflowing.

Corona of the Nantahatas. 149

" ' O thou fair child of Zeus almighty,
Heed now my prayer : when all my beauty
With length of years hath waned and wasted,
Be with me still ; do not forsake me —
Oh, I implore thee !

" 'Blind thou his eyes, when age hath claimed
me;

Send down thy birds of plumage dusky.

Thy precious doves, that they may whisper

Still in his ear and quicken ever

Love's holy rapture.

" ' And when in death we pass the borders
Of mortal life, do thou us welcome;
Do thou provide, blest Aphrodite,
That there our love, with youth endowered,
Shall keep for ever !

" ' For this dear boon my soul will praise thee —
Praise thee with gladness — day and evening;
So shall I walk before thee ever.
In purity of thought and doing —
Thus to adore thee.'

** Seven times the God Helois climbed up
and down the great sky-dome while I dwelt
upon Parnassus with Philomen, my husband;
seven times he rested in the zenith and
sought with warm and piercing gaze his
own chosen cattle, sleek and beautiful in

150 Corona of the Nantahalas,

their pastures; seven times the happy spirits
of light awoke from sleep, brightening to
the glory of the mid-noon and slowly
waning to the evening. Then came the end.

'^^Philomen's sin weighed on our hearts
and frighted us through all our joy. Then,
too, the shadow of my injured father haunted
every hour; each day, I felt the more that
filial piety had been shamed by me. My
love and I confessed our thoughts and made
agreement to go to Delphi and uncover our
hearts before the god, then seek my father.
So in the early day, when white cloud-mists
swam low between the piny hills of the
long, deep glens, we joined our hands and
followed down the path which w^nt to
Delphi.

''And as we rested at the mountain's
foot, lo, all at once, they fell upon us there
— my father and my brothers, come forth
from the town to search for me once more.
My Philomen rose up and fought them
with the might of three brave men ; but
they were four beside the slaves and bore
him down. But for my cries, they would
have slain him without pity ; and when I
showed him how I was the shepherd's wife,
my father burned with wrath and most

Corona of the Nantalialas. 1 5 1

cruelly reproached me. He waited but to
hear the tale, then hurried us on toward the
temple of the god.

" ' The sacred oracle shall declare his
fate ! ' they cried.

**'As we ascended the rocky Pytho, my
soul fell deathly sick within me ; well I kiipw
how it would end. My haughty kinsmen
would not brook my marriage with a shep-
herd, and were resolved to slay him. I saw
it in their looks, their covert speech, in their
rich gifts of gold to the temple priests who
came forth at our call.

"When these had heard the case and
retired from our view, Philomen reverently
knelt him down, all in his bonds, and thus
he waited with bowed head to hear his fate.
I would have passed the guarding slaves and
knelt beside him, but my father drove me
back with harsh and much upbraiding till I
drew away and tempted him no more. So
came it that I wandered back and forth
beneath the oaks, with lightness in my head
and heaviness in my feet, my eyes afloat in
agonies of unshed tears, and straining all
my soul to pierce the darkness of the com-
ing hour. At last I came upon a side door to
the temple, and, when none looked, I entered

152 Corona of the Nantahalas.

there and softly stole within the holy place,
in mad unconsci«)usness of what I did.

"And when I thus drew nigh, lo, all the
priests were upon their knees, and utter
stillness filled the place. Enthroned upon
the mystic tripod, the Pythian priestess
looked before her with a dull straight stare,
and there was that about her pale, unearthly
face and swollen eyes which made me to
loathe her with my utmost strength. All
hope within me died; full well I knew she
would speak ill for Philomen. As thus
I looked and thought, all on a sudden a
wave-like thrill or spasm seized the priestess'
form and seemed to shake her cruelly, even
to her inmost seat of life. As suddenly it
was gone, leaving her white and still, with
hands fast clenched. Then slowly she made
shift to speak in words which fell like
leaden hail upon my heart ; lo, thus she
spake :

" ' The mountain wolf, that from his hiding-place

comes forth
To make a lie, to build with crafty words a

snare.
To breed, in supine, halting Hellas light concern
For majesty enthroned above — on him the

curse !

Corona of the Nantahalas, 1 5 3

The sons of men shall rise upon him in their

might ;
The tender lamb, by him deceived, shall mark

his fall;
With throe on throe, his slow-quenched springs

of life shall cease !
Say to the kings of men: who blasphemes

gods — '

**So miicli I heard, and then the world
dissolved in darkness. They lifted me and
bore me out and away, all when I knew it
not. We had come down the steep incline
and gone far into the woods, when I awoke
to life. They brought me there that I, who
was the lamb, might behold the wolf in the
throes of death: so they read the oracle.
I broke from those supporting me, and
stopped them as they raised their cruel
swords. A. madness seized me, and I stood
forth, fearless, against my father and my
brothers:

" ' The relentless Erinnys pursue you
now and for ever, if ye do this awful
thing!'

'^^Thou art mad,' they cried. 'We but
obey the sacred oracle.'

" ' The word of the oracle is dark and
hidden, and ye but bend it to your wicked

I

1 54 Corona of the Nantahalas.

purjiose/ I answered them. *If ye say true,
the oracle is no longer the Yoice of great
Apollo, but a lie. The gods would not
condemn a shepherd youth who sinned in
jest, and pardon the far more grave offence
of a mighty man of Athens. Philomen
sinned only to make sport of a foolish maid
who loves him and who is his wife, but
Pisistratus blasphemed in the name of Pallas
and deceived the whole Athenian state!
Which one, tell me, hath done the sin which
may not be forgiven?' So I spake on
till the world was again a dark and form-
less waste, and I sunk down before their
foet.

*^ My Philippa, they did not slay thy
father. Divine Apollo looked with pity on
my woe and touched their cruel hearts. It
was my good brave Orcus who spake of
mercy first, and bent my father's will.

*^ ' If we slay this youth to whom her soul
is knit,' quoth he, 'we slay thy daughter too.
Let him go free, my father, and send thy
sons to slay a real wolf — thus to obey the
oracle's sacred word.'

"And when the cloudy sea of faintness
rolled back from over me, lo, they prepared
to loose his bonds.

Corona of the Nantahalas. 155

'' ' Swear never more to approach this
maid, and thou art free,' quoth they, in
haste.

'' But he disdained the price and opened
not his mouth, whereat their wrath waxed
hot and again they drew their swords. But
he set his face and locked his lips, and would
not swear. Then fiercely turned my father
on me and cried : * Swear by the throne of
Zeus never to look upon this youth again,
or, by the gods, the fowls shall eat his
flesh ! '

'^ my daughter, I swore — to save his
life, I swore. And then they loosed him
and angrily bade him go ; but, as they
swiftly bore me away, he still stood proudly
there.

*' After those many, many days of va-
cancy at Athens, I remember that my
father and brothers were pleased to show
concern for me. Tliey took me to see the
tragedies of ^Antigone' and * The Seven
Chiefs against Thebes,' desirous thus to
divert me from my griefs. My brother
Orcus also contrived that I might see a
comedy, and strove hard to make me
merry. But, with me, the springs of mirth
were all dried up; only after I heard thy

1 56 Corona of the Nantahalas.

voice, Philippa, could I smile for my good
Orciis.

"What of thy father? Once, with a
band of mountain men, he came within
ten stadia of the walls of Athens, and got
me word through slaves. I sent thee out
that he might kiss and bless thee, but I
would not look upon his face. I remem-
bered the sacred oath which had saved his
life and broken my heart, and bade him
go his way. That was the end. Ere that
Olympiad drew to its close, he fell before
the Macedonians at (Jli^eronea, and all the
glory of Greece died with him there.

*' Men have wooed me since those days,
but all in vain. For me, in all the uni-
verse, there is but one — my Philomen. It
is as if I had no life apart from him ; and
well do I believe that, when I wander down
to the under-world, I shall be joined with
him. In these sad days of callous unbe-
lieving men, some say there is no under-
world — that man in death can only rot and
so return to mother earth ; but I look for-
ward to the day when Death shall touch
me with his frozen lips, as to a long-pre-
vented voyage to a wished-for shore.

*^ But enough, my daughter. The sym-

Corona of the Nantahalas. 157

posium is ended; I hear the guests as they
go forth. Let me now lead thee to thy
husband."

Darnell sat dumb, staring at the girl.
Ions after the music of her low-toned voice
had ceased. She, too, sat motionless, an
expression of relief on her face.

" Did it weary you ? " Corona asked at
last.

"It fascinated me," was the prompt
answer. "But it is so sad. Why did you
make it so?"

" Because I am sad and could not make
it otherwise. And then, according to his-
tory, you remember, it was in that sad
time when the glory of Greece was fading,
dying. I thought of a woman deceived,"
she told him further, " because I have been
deceived. But I was moved with pity for
her, and made it possible that she could
still love."

"One can see you in the tale."

"You said once that I might become a
poet," she reminded him anon. "Do you
think what the Greek girl says to Aphrodite
in her prayer is poetry? "

" In essence surely, if not in form. You

158 Corona of the Nantahalas.

may acquire the form," Darnell added after
a moment.

*'I shall not try. The thoughts that
come to me are too sad and give me too
much pain. I shall leave writing to Mm
who has no heart and will not feel it. I
have told you my sad tale and am done/^
she added later. *' Teach me of other
things — teach me of the plants you love.
I write no more."

" Many would call me selfish, but I am
glad," was Darnell's smiling answer. '*' I'd
rather see you a woman than a poet."

XIV.

Seated on the porch, Corona and Darnell
talked late one evening a few days later.
Gideon McLeod sat on the steps most of the
time, smoking his pipe and taking no pai-t in
the conversation. The night was beautiful.
The full moon rose high over the dark, slum-
bering mountains. Helicon, Parnassus, and
the other peaks lifted themselves skyward in
dim, uncertain, yet bulky outlines. A gen-
tle current of air shook the foliage on the
neighboring trees, and the occasional chirp
of a sleepless bird was borne to the listeners
from among the rustling leaves.
. Darnell had been saying that people who
dwelt close to nature's heart, as in the
lonely places of the mountains, were likely
to entertain serious thoughts more uninter-
ruptedly than the people of the cities ; to

1 60 Corona of the Nantahalas,

be less merry, but more trustful and more
really contented ; and this was likely to
affect the expression of their faces, giving
them an air of unusual gravity.

'^ But vou, who are from the cities, have
that serious look, too/'' said Corona. ^^ I
have often observed that you were so differ-
ent from — from Henry."

'^ Perhaps I have, but if so there is a
reason for it. It is doubtless because of
the unhappy atmosphere in which I grew
up."

" Will you not tell me about your early
life, Edward ? " she asked earnestly. '^ Was
it so unhappy ? "

*'I can tell you, but it will hardly in-
terest you." He made an effort to change
the subject, but she brought him back to
it.

"I know almost nothing about my own
parents beyond the fact that their name
was Darnell," he began at last. '^ I was
left a destitute orphan at the age of six,
and was adopted by a remote cousin of
my mother's. My adopted mother was the
wife of a man named Casimiro, a Cuban
cigar merchant in Charleston. Carlos Casi-
miro, judging from all I have since heard

Corona of the Nantahalas. i6i

of him, was perhaps over punctilious and
particular in matters of honour, but he was
sober, intelligent, and probity itself. He
made a place for himself even in a strange
citv, and in the course of time he married
into a good family, as such things go,
although neither he nor his wife, Evelyn
Merion, could be called wealthy. It may
interest you to know that you have often
reminded me of my adopted mother. She
did not have your dark eyes and hair, but
she had your expression, your manner, and
she was like you in disposition.

*' It was a case of love on both sides, and
there appeared to be only two obstacles in
the way of complete happiness for the Casi-
miros. One was the fact of their having
no children — that is why I was adopted ;
the other was the presence in the house of
a third person, brother of the wife. My
adopted uncle, Harry Merion, started out
well, and was generally supposed to be a
youth of bright promise, though there were
afterwards some who declared that they
always knew there was a screw loose some-
where. His father and mother had been
first cousins, and some people attributed
the trouble to that. Whatever the cause,

1 62 Corona of the Nantahalas,

by the time lie was eigliteen his mind had
gone under a cloud, and after that he was
never quite right. He should have been
sent to au asylum where he could have
been treated systematically, and perhaps
cured. Some of the relatives were wise
enough to urge this, seeing that he had to
be taken out of school, and became a bur-
den in his mother's home ; but no step to-
ward such an arran element was taken. His
mother was bitterly opposed to it, and
willing to sacrifice the remainder of her
familv for him. When slie died, his sister
Evelyn assumed the cross, and would listen
to no proposals looking toward a separa-
tion. She finally married Casimiro with
the understanding that her afflicted brother
should always be permitted to live in their
home.

''Harry Merion was never very violent
until toward the last, but he often raved
mildly and talked irrationally f(jr hours
without a moment's pause.' They said he
would talk, of everything, from the Pope to
the chickens hanging in the market. He
had read much poetry, and usually recited
his interminable imaginings in a sort of
singsong rhythm. I can remember his

Corona of the Nantahalas. 163

roamiug about the house late in the night,
makiug queer noises. He early showed a
deep and jealous affection for his sister, and
this in itself was sufficient cause for their
separation after her marriage. He made
trouble between husband and wife more
than once, but Casimiro was not alarmed,
and allowed affairs to drift on from bad to
worse.

" Two years after my adoption a child was
born to the Casimiros, a girl, whom the father
named Corona, because, as he said, she had
crowned his life with happiness,^'

''How strange — my name!" murmured
Corona, deeply interested, and Gideon
McLeod turned his head as though he had
begun to listen.

''That is another reason why you have
reminded me of my adopted mother," pur-
sued Darnell. " I have often wondered
where your parents, being mountain people,
got such a name. When the baby came,
Harry Merion w^as about twenty years old.
Not long after that it was observed that he
grew steadily worse. He seemed to love
the child more than its mother, but there
were times when this remarkable affection
disappeared utterly, and they became afraid

1 64 Corona of the Nantahalas.

to leave bim alone with it. Meanwhile his
insane dislike of Casimiro increased until it
was clear that he felt little short of hatred
for the man who had generously opened his
home to him.

''So the time went on until the child was
a little more than two years old, and then
came the terrible tragedy which, it has al-
ways seemed to me, they might have foreseen
and guarded against. One night - I was a
boy of twelve and asleep in the house at the
time — Harry Merion flew into a rage and
shot Casimiro dead without any provocation
whatever, and while the mother was weeping
over her husband's bleeding body, he lifted
their sleeping baby out of its cradle and dis-
appeared, Neither the one nor the other
was ever seen again."

Corona suppressed a desire to interrupt
with questions, and Darnell proceeded: ''It
was learned that a man answering to his
description boarded an outgoing train and
got otf somewhere in North Carolina at a
late hour of the same night, still carrying
the sleeping child. There all ti-ace of them
was lost. It was thought that he might
have thrown the child into a river, or aban-
doned it in some town where it was picked

Corona of the Nantahalas. 165

up and adopted, and that in some way he
met his own death. It was easy to multiply
conjectures, but not one of them was ever
verified. Thousands of dollars were spent
in the search for the madman and the child,
but neither of them was ever heard of
again. If they had gone away in a balloon,
all traces of them could not have been
more completely obliterated.'^

Gideon McLeod sat still on the steps, say-
ing nothing, but so intense was his interest
in Darnell's narrative that he had forgotten
to smoke, and had allowed his corn-cob pipe
to go out.

'^Now you have the story of the unhappy
atmosphere in which I grew up,^"* the
speaker concluded. ''Robbed of her hus-
band and child in one night, my adopted
mother received a shock from which she
never rallied. Necessarily our home was a
gloomy one. I think I did all I could to
cheer her ; certainly I tried hard to be a
true son to her, and I know that she loved
me. The tragedy occurred when I was
twelve, and she died when I was nineteen.
There was not a great deal of money left
after the estate was settled, and what there
was I expended on my education. I went

1 66 Corona of the Nantahalas.

to New York, and spent several years at
Columbia College, afterwards pursuing the
study of botany in Europe. Five years ago
I returned to New York, which is still mv
home."

The sad story deeply engaged Corona's
interest, and she now asked question after
question, thus bringing out many particulars
which had been omitted. Finally, when
there seemed no more to tell, Gideon
McLeod moved uneasily on the steps and
cleared his throat several times, as if about
to speak.

*'Mr. Darnell," he began at last, *^if you
was to see a man — a crazy-lookin' man —
about to kill a little child, what would you
do?"

'*rd prevent it," answered Darnell, sur-
prised at the question.

'^ Would you shoot him ? "

^'No; I'd jump on him — overpower him
— get the child out of the way."

'' But s'posin' '^ — Gideon McLeod seemed
to hesitate — " s'posin' you was to come upon
him jes' ez he was about to shoot the child,
and you had a gun with you ?"

/* I don't like to propose to myself such
questions," answered Darnell, more sur-

Corona of the Nantahalas. 167

prised. ^' At such such a crisis I should cer-
tainly act, however. It would surely be in-
human to stand by and not attempt to
prevent such a shocking — but why do you
ask ? "

" I was jes' a wonderin'. What would be
the law in such a case? "

^' I never heard of such a case, but I don't
see how the law could touch a man wiio
shot a madman in order to save the life of
an innocent child."

*' Well, now, that's jes' the way it seemed
to me, and when I seen him p'intin' his
pistol at the child that day it was more'n I
could stand, and I jes' blazed away."

"What! You really shot — a madman — "

Gideon McLeod suddenly got upon his
feet and went and stood before them, stag-
gering like a drunken man. In the pale
light of the moon they perceived that he
was strangely excited.

" It's out now, and I mought ez well tell
it," he said in an agitated voice. " I'm goin'
to tell you two what nobody in the world
knows but me and my wife, and you kin
judge betwixt me and that crazy man."

Corona made room for him on the bench,
and he sat down by them and told the story

1 68 Corona of the Nantahalas.

without inteiTuption, although both his com-
panions were breathing hard with excite-
ment and their minds were full of conjec-
tures.

''What did you do with the child?"
asked Darnell as soon as there was a pause,
leaping to the conclusion.

'' Here she is — right here " — placing his
hand on the girl beside him.

Corona and Darnell both started to their
feet, incredulous, yet believing. " Can it
be — can it really be true ? " they repeatedly
exclaimed, a glad note in the sound of their
Yoices.

''Mebby she ain't the child that was took
from you-all, Mr. Darnell," said Gideon
McLeod solemnly, "but ez shore ez I'm a
liyin' she's the child that crazy man was
about to shoot in the woods down yonder.
And now do you blame me?" he asked
with eagerness.

"J blame you?" echoed Darnell. *' I
thank you."

" You saved me and became my father, ''
murmured Corona, reseating herself and
putting her arms round the mountaineer's
neck.

'' Your only fault," said Darnell, on second

Corona of the Nantahalas. 169

thoughts, ^^ was in keeping the secret. If
you had advertised and reached the stricken
mother — how much happiness you could
have given her ! "

^* I would 'a, but I was a-scared — and I
didn't know how," was the remorseful
response.

'^ But when was this ? " Darnell hurried
on to ask.

" Eighteen years ago this last spring."

'^ The dates agree exactly, but that alone
is not proof enough. Were there any letters
on him — anything by which to identify him
or the child ? "

By way of answer the mountaineer went
into the house, calling his wife.

''If this be really true, then you are my
brother," said Corona gladly.

*'N"ot by blood," was the prompt correc-
tion. " If you are Corona Casimiro, I am
a very distant relative of yours, nothing

more."

Gideon McLeod ' returned shortly, bring-
ing a candle and a white bundle which
proved to be the garments worn by the
hapless little girl eighteen years before.
The word '' Corona " embroidered in white
silk, now yellow with age, on one of them^

I/O Corona of the Nantahalas.

was pointed out, and then they were shown
the linen handkerchief marked ^^ H. M."
which had been found in the madman's
pocket.

''It is sufficient." said Darnell at last.
** There can be no further doubt. That
handkerchief certainly belonged to Harry
Merion. My adopted mother was fond of
doing such embroidery. I still have a
handkerchief laid away somewhere on which
she embroidered my name with that same
thread." Turning to the girl, he continued :
" The proofs may not be sufhcient to estab-
lish your identity before a court, but that
will not be necessary. You have no fortune
to win, and need not go to law. As I have
told you, I spent everything that was left
on my education, and I engage to pay it
back to you."

** Only half of it could be called mine,
and 1"

'* You shall have it all. There can be no
possible doubt," he continued. '' From the
first day you have reminded me of your
mother."

''That crazy man must 'a found that
horse standin' waitin^ fer somebody else
when he got off the train that night," said

Corona of the Nantahalas. 171

Gideon McLeod, '' and I reckon he tuck to
the woods right straight and kep' a comin'
till he got h-yer. It was a mighty fine
horse."

Darnell seconded this conjecture, although
he had barely caught the gist of the remark,
being occupied with Corona's multiplying
questions concerning her parents and kin-
dred. The mountaineer presently re-entered
the house and returned with a torch, pro-
posing that they should go and see where
Harry Merion was buried, as the distance
was short. They rose and followed him.
Corona continuing her questions as they
walked down the path, out at the gate, and
into the woods.

^^I'm more 'n middlin' glad you ain't got
no call to go into court," said the moun-
taineer, as a silence fell between the two
younger people. ^^ There wa'n't no witnesses
to the shootin' and how I come to do it,
and I mought git into a sight 0' trouble."

They were now on the ground, but there
was nothing to be seen but the stake that
had been driven down on that memorable
night so long ago. Gideon McLeod held
the torch aloft and told them how, at the
suggestion of his wife, he had read from the

1/2 Corona of the Nantahalas,

sacred Book and recited a prayer before the
earth had been shovelled in. As they were
retracing their steps, Darnell assured him
that he had nothing to fear, then or in the
future. It was not necessary to go into
court, and as all the relatives were dead but
distant ones, the facts need never be known
outside of Lonely Cove. "Corona can go
back with me to New York as my wife or
my sister, as she chooses, and it will not be
necessary to tell her history."

They did not observe it, but the expres-
sion of the old mountaineer's face suddenly
altered strangely, and he uttered a deep
sigh as he relapsed into silence.

"It is just as well," Darnell continued,
" for the story would doubtless be received
with incredulous smiles."

They were now at the gate, and he went
no farther ; Corona halted also, but Gideon
McLeod walked on, presently subsiding
into his old seat on the steps, too excited
and wide awake to think of retiring as yet.

"We belong to each other now, whether
you ever marry me or not," said the young
man, in a low, glad voice, before taking his
leave.

"Yes — we are brother and sister."

Corona of the Nantahalas. 173

As Corona returned slowly and medita-
tively toward the house, she observed the
figure on the steps and distinctly heard these
words muttered in a troubled voice : " He'll
take her — of course ; but, tliank God,
I done my duty, anyhow." The girl ran
forward and seated herself by the moun-
taineer's side, resting her arm upon his
shoulder affectionately.

*' You'll be goin' off from us soon, I
reckon," he said, in the same troubled voice.
'' That's why I hated to fell — I knowed he'd
carry you off."

"Dear uncle," said Corona, impulsively,
deeply moved, "I will stay — I will not
leave you."

" No use a sayin' that," he laughed. " It
wouldn't be right nohow. Young folks
must marry."

XV.

Corona still felt unable to think of Dar-
nell as a lover. She thought she could never
love again ; but he had become very dear to
her, and was . almost constantly in her
thoughts. It had seemed more and more
difficult of late to construct a future which
did not include him as an important part of
it, and she had begun to wish earnestly that
he might always be beside her to guide, in-
struct and protect. Now that her family
history had come to light, revealing the
fact that he was not only a relation but an
adopted brother, she. basked in the sunshine
of a great content. This man in whom
she thoroughly believed, this man of a noble
heart, was now in very truth her brother,
teacher, friend, protector !

She had occasion to think of him espe-
cially in the latter respect a few days later.

CoroJia of the Nantahalas. 175

Within a week after warning them of the
approach of the raiders, Jonathan Scruggs
turned up at Lonely Cove, unmistakably in
the role of a suitor come a-courting. They
one and all treated him with every kind-
ness; he ate heartily of the early dinner
prepared for him, and in the cool of the
afternoon, as Corona and Dan started off
for a walk, he was invited to accompany
them. The girl had intended going straight
to the camp, in case he remained with the
McLeods, as she hoped he would; but the
party now took their way toward the river
Simois.

"Ain't you got no good word for me.
Miss Anna, after what I done for you-all
t'other day?" asked the foolish lover, with
the air of one come to claim a reward.

They had seated themselves on the little
river's bank, and were watching the clear
water swirling white and frothy over the
rocks. Corona turned and looked at him
coldly.

"Xothing, Jonathan," she said, '^except
that we all thank you for warning us as
you did."

** Tve been a runnin' after you a right
smart while, Miss Anna," he ventured,

I j6 Corona of the Nantahalas.

after a few moments. "It's now goin' on
two year."

"It is a pity to waste so raucli time," she
remarked, her glance returning to the leap-
ing water.

"I love to waste it — on yoxi^,'' declared
this personification of obtuseness. '^Tm
Willi q' to waste a big sight more on yon."
His little, yellow eyes seemed to dance as he
gazed at her.

" I have told you often that it was useless
to continue," she reminded him.

" So you did," he assented, his broad, red
face expanded in a knowing smile, ''but
women folks is powerful a23t to change their
minds, they tell me. Mebby we'll make it
after a while. l^othin' like keepin' at a
thing," he laughed loudly.

Corona rose to walk on, an expression of
disgust on her face. Just then they heard
the sound of approaching footsteps, and
the girl's face lighted up as Darnell ap-
peared. He carried a light spade, very
long and narrow, and two or three uprooted
plants.

" I'm so glad you have come," she said to
him in a low voice.

Darnell's smile showed that he was no

Corona of the Nantahalas. 177

less glad. After a moment he turned from
her and nodded to Dan and young Scruggs.
The latter was unwise and intemperate
enough to scowl instead of returning the
salute, and presently burst out with the
rude remark :

'' Two is comp'ny and three is none, they
tell me."

Corona and Darnell both turned at this,
the latter surveying the angry mountaineer
with a critical eye. " What do you mean by
that ? " he asked mildly.

'' I mean two is comp'ny, and three is
none in my country."

'' Then suppose we leave him," suggested
Darnell.

Corona indicating assent, they began to
walk on.

At that Jonathan Scruggs swore an oath,
and lost his head completely. ^'I reckon
this is my innin'," he shouted. " I walked
out with her first, and you or any other man
has got me to whip before you kin take her
away from me that-a way."

He rushed up to his rival with doubled
fists, and stood close to him in a threatening
attitude. The blood mounted to Darnell's
face, and before he knew it he had taken

178 Corona of the Nantahalas.

the iaitiative. Suddenly liis right arm shot
out from the shoulder, and there was the
dull sound of a heavy blow. The moun-
taineer staggered back, and for a moment
he seemed to be falliug; but he ralhed,
leaped forward, and the two men grappled.

Though an inch or two taller, Darnell
was much the lighter man; but he had had
considerable athletic training in his youth,
and his many summers of outdoor life,
with much mountain climbing, had aided in
the develonment of his muscles. The over-
confident Scruggs soon found that he had
met his match. For many moments the
issue of the struggle seemed doubtful ;
round and round over a confined open
space carpeted with dead leaves they gradu-
ally worked their way. Corona looked on,
terrified, yet conscious of a strange fasci-
nation, while Dan was so pleased at so un-
common a sight that he could not contain
himself, but went leaping and dancing about
the wrestlers, smiling and uttering inarticu-
late sounds of delight.

Corona was conscious of the most intense
satisfaction, of almost a desire to shout,
when at last she saw Scruggs go down
heavily and Darnell partially rise with his

Corona of the Nantahalas. 1 79

knees upon the breast of his panting and
furious ad versary.

"You deserve a great deal more than
this, but T am going to let you go," said
Darnell sternly, as he held the man down
and they glared at each other. '^Another
time I hope you will know how to behave
yourself in the presence of a lady."

When released, Scruggs gathered himself
up very quickly, considering that he was
out of breath and pretty well spent. He
looked from Corona to the victor, his face
aflame with passion. "I'll get even with
you yet," he said huskily, with a dark,
threateuino: look toward the latter.

"You ought to be satisfied," "said Darnell,
smiling serenely. "I am. It was a fair
fight."

By way of response the mountaineer re-
peated his threat, more bitterly than before.
Fearing more and perhaps worse trouble,
Corona sisrned to Dan to take Scrucrors
back to the house, and speaking urgently
to Darnell, the two walked aw:iy together,
leaving the deaf mute to obey his orders —
if he could.

Some men would have seriously reflected
over the fact of having aroused the bitter

l8o Corona of the Nantahalas.

enmity of another, and would thereafter
have always been more or less on their
guard. A more cautious man would per-
haps not only have been on the look-out by
day but would not have slept unrrotected
by night. Darnell, however, did not give
the mat-ter more than a passing thought,
and soon forgot the threats of the vanquished
mountaineer.

It was in the morning, a week or two
later, while preparing his breakfast", that he
once or twice thought he heard stealthy
footsteps beyond the borders of the open
sp'ice surrounding his camp. He raised his
head and scanned the leafy aisles leading
away in all directions, but saw nothing.
He attributed the sounds to the rustle of
dry leaves moved by the wind. At the
same time he reflected that the air seemed
phenomenally still that morning, and w^on-
d'M'ed if some little animal, perhaps a
squirrel, were not frisking about in the
vicinity. Having breakfasted, and set his
tent and surroundings in something like
order he made ready for a tramp.

"The air is remarkably still," he said
aloud, as he stood, spade in hand, ready
to start.

Corona of the Nantahalas. i8i

It was just then that his eye caught the
leap of a slender tongue of flame from the
thicket directly in front. Almost at the
same instant he felt a heavy, burning blow,
heard a loud report, and realized, as one in
a dream, that he tottered and fell.

Darnell knew that he was shot — a burn-
ing, tingling pain in his left leg, about half
way above the knee, was distinctly per-
ceptible — and a great fear seized him. He
was alone — he might bleed to death; the
assassin would of course abandon him to
his fate. He was about to lift himself on
his arm and look around, but hearing foot-
steps he remained quiet, closing his eyes.

Seeing his victim in a state of physical
collapse, the assassin emerged from cover
and cautiously drew near, curious to see if
death had been the result of the shot.
When the approaching footsteps were
stilled, and he felt that some one bent over
him and stared into his face, Darnell sud-
denly opened his eyes and recognized Jona-
than Scruggs.

*'0h, it is you, is it?" he said con-
temptuously, a feeling of recklessness sud-
denly succeeding his state of fear.

'^Yes, it's me," was the mountaineer's

1 82 Corona of tJie NantaJialas,

defiant response, after a start of surprise.
His haggard face and bloodshot eyes
emphasized the malevolence of his expres-
sion.

*^What made you shoot me?"

" You know well enough.'''

'* Because I whipped you in a fair fight,
or because you think I stand in your light
with the woman you want to marry but do
not love?''

'•'Who says I don't love her?"

•'The love of a good woman ought to
make a man out of any sort of a fellow.
Instead of making a man of you, it has
made you the most despicable of all
creatures — an assassin, which is only an-
other name for devil/'

The mountaineer flushed with anger and
shame, lifting his rifle threateningly. ''If
you don't stop sassin' me," he burst out,
"I'll put you out o' yo' mis'ry mighty
quick."

Suddenly Darnell closed his eyes, and a
faintness stole upon him. In a moment or
two he oj)ened them again and said: "If
you don't intend to finish me, bring me
some water."

Then quite as suddenly his face blanched,

Corona of the Naittahalas. 183

his eyes closed, and he lapsed into uncon-
sciousness.

*^ He's dead ! " whispered Scruggs, draw-
ing away in horror and fear.

A few moments of intense stillness suc-
ceeded. They were cut short by the rustle
of dry leaves beneath the tread of approach-
jng feet. Scruggs bounded away like a
hare in the opposite direction, and when
Corona appeared along the path leading
from the farm-house nothing met her gaze
but the mouth of the cave, the tent, the
empty hammock, and presently the limp
figure on the ground. She stopped, startled
— could he be asleep in such an attitude
and on the bare ground ? Drawing nearer,
she beheld all in one moment the deathly
pale face and the blood which had oozed
through the thick woolen of Darnell's
trousers.

With a low cry unlike anything she had
ever uttered in her life before, the girl
threw herself upon the prostrate figure.
She saw that he did not breathe — assuredly
he was dead! She gathered him to her,
pillowing his head on her breast and press-
ing her lips long upon his, inwardly say-
ing : ^* If he be dead, how can I live ? Let

1 84 Corona of the Nantahalas.

me die, too, my God ! " She knew at
last the difference between a dream and a
reality.

Suddenly Darnell revived, and, without
opening his eyes, called faintly, "Water!"

Gently, but swiftly, and with the light of
a great joy in her eyes, the girl laid him
out of her arms before he was aware of her
presence. Running to the tent she found
water standing in a bucket, ran back with
a cupful, and put it to his lips. He drank
eagerly, then looked to see who ministered
to him.

" Oh, it is you," he murmured contentedly.
"My last thought was of you, Corona. I
thought I was going to die, and I wished
you could be by me. ... I have been
shot."

" I am here and will stay with you," sha
said, touching his forehead caressingly with
her hand. She would not ask the name
of the assassin, fearing to excite him.

'* And I am not to die, it seems," he said.
'*' How could I from a wound in the leg? "

''But it bleeds rapidly," she said, with
anxiety. ''I can feel the blood gushing
forth under the cloth. It has run out on
the ground.'

>f

Corona of tJie Nantahalas. 1S5

^'The femoral artery must be cut," he
said, weakening with sudden misgiving.
^' If so I shall bleed to death, unless the
wound has very careful attention."

Corona started to her feet; something
sliould be done at once. A deadly pallor
overspread Darnell's face, and a second time
he lapsed into unconsciousness.

The girl's distress was intensified. She
realized that she must act — immediately —
but what should slie do ? Should she leave
him — run to the house for help ? He might
die while she was gone; no, she could not
leave him. Perhaps she could carry him
there — if she tried hard — desperately hard ;
she was very strong — she believed she could
do it.

Stooping over him, she exerted all her
strength, lifted him in her arms, and stag-
gered a few steps with her burden. She
could not do it — she could never do it ;
something else must be done.

Looking about her helplessly — sup2:)li-
catingly — her eye fell upon a crooked ram's
horn belonging to Dan. It lay on the
ground near the tent, where he had dropped
it perhaps the day before. Leaping upon
it as though in fear lest it should fly from

1 86 Corona of the Nantahalas.

her, Corona put it to her lips and blew
three long blasts, then three more, and then
three more. Surely they would hear that
at the farm-house, and understand that
something was wrong and come to her
aid.

The stillness that followed was frightful
to her in its intensity and suggestion of
disaster. Half an hour must eLip.-e before
any one could come to her aid, and mean-
while the assassin's victim might bleed to
death. She could not wait — she must begin
the work. Dropping the horn, she returned
to Darnell's side, steeling herself to the
accomplishment of the task before her. The
blood must be stanched — she must do it —
and before it could be done his clothing
would have to be removed. As she stood
over liim, hesitating, a suggestion came to
her. Eunning to the tent, she looked about
eagerly, picked up a long, sharp knife, and
came back.

It was the work of but a few moments
to 7'ip open Darnell's trousers, and lay bare
the wound, from which the blood flowed in
a rapid stream. She did not stop here, but
cut away the ripped cloth entirely, and,
tearing it into long strips, bound them

Corona of the NantaJialas. 187

tightly around the exposed lirab, covering
the wound and checking the great flow of
blood.

By the time all this was done she heard
the sound of footsteps. Looking up, she
was overjoyed to find DaQ at her side.
Mrs. McLeod had been alarmed by the
repeated blowing of the horn, and had sent
him off at a run. Hardly stopping to S2:)eak
a word in explanation of the situation,
Corona bade the deaf mute lift Darnell and
carry him home as fast as he could.

Dan, who was '^.Imost as strong as an ox,
willingly obeyed her. Lifting the still in-
sensible man, and placing him p:irtly across
his shoulders and partly on his back, he
trotted easily after Corona along the path
leading to the house.

XVI.

GiDEOiq- McLeod was out in the moun-
tains looking after some stmying sheep.
When his wife saw Corona running towards
the house, followed by Dan with his burden,
her first thought was of her husband, and
she began at once to blow the horn. She
blew blast after blast, ceasing only when
Corona reached the steps.

'as it Mr. Darnell that's hurt?'' she
asked anxiously.

" Yes " — with a gasp for breath.

'' What ails him ? Look at the blood I "

'^He has been shot."

''Too done it?"

''I believe it was Jonathan."

Dan carried the still unconscious man in,
and they placed him gently on a bed.
Then, as the two woman busied themselves
about the room, he went out, as he was

Corona of the Nantahalas, 189

directed to do, took up the horn, and walk-
ing some distance from the house, blew it
with all his strength.

A short while afterwards, as Corona, in
her own room, was tearing cloth into strips
for fresh bandages, Mrs. McLeod came to
her and said:

^^He's come to. He says we must get a
doctor right off to probe for the bullet.^'

'' I thought that ought to be done, but I
was waiting for uncle to see him,^' was the
anxious reply.

The girl ran out and looked toward the
mountain heights. Dan was still blowing
the horn at intervals, and there was as yet
no sign of his father. Corona caught his
eye, beckoned to him, and began to make
signs, directing him to bridle the horse, and
put on her side saddle. Dan himself could
not go for the doctor — no one at Wolf Creek
would understand his signs — and it would
not do to wait for his father, who might be
beyond the reach of the horn. Corona de-
cided that she must go herself.

Having reached this determination, she
returned to the wounded man^s bedside, and
bent low over him, saying that the doctor
was to be sent for at once. He smiled as

190 Corona of the N ant ahalas.

he saw her, pressed her hand gently, but
seemed too faint to speak; and then she
left him.

" Watch him closely till I return," she
whispered to Mrs. McLeod, but did not an-
nounce her determination, fearing opposi-
tion, and thus delay.

Corona wore one of her white Greek
gowns, and it was now stained with blood,
but she did not pause to make a change.
The horse was ready, and not a moment
was lost. Once upon his back, and out be-
yond the gate, she plied the whip and rode
at a breakneck speed along the difficult path-
way leading downward through the moun-
tains. Over fallen trees, along narrow ledges,
above yawning ravines, through shallow,
roaring mountain torrents full of huge, slip-
pery stones — on she went !

She had made the journey to Wolf Creek,
a distance of at least fifteen miles, only
twice in her life, and the last time more
than five years since; but there were no
cross roads, and she knew that she could
not miss her way. But the horse might
slip or stumble, and fall at a dangerous
point, and both be precipitated downward
io certain death. Corona thought not of

Corona of the Nantahalas, 191

this ; her only fear was that Darnell might
die while she was on the road, and with
apparent recklessness she urged her labour-
ing horse with a merciless hand.

Two hours or more later, as the panting
animal carried her into the more level
region of the lower valley, she saw on the
road ahead of her a horseman riding
rapidly toward Wolf Creek. As she neared
the villao'e and saw him turn off to the
right, she recognized the face of Jonathan
Scruggs, and was confirmed in her suspicion
of his villainy.

The inhabitants of the mountain village,
which consisted of a lialf-dozen or so of
dwelling houses, a post oflBce, and two small
stores, were amazed at the sight of a pant-
ing, foam-flecked horse, with a handsome
young girl on its back, dashing madly into
their midst. Thinking it a runaway, one
man rushed into the road to the rescue, but
Corona promptly motioned him back and
began to check her plunging horse. As she
came to a standstill several men approached
her questioningly.

'^ Please tell me where the doctor is/' she
said to them hurriedly.

*^ Yonder he is risrht now — there in front

192 Corona of the Nantahalas.

o' the post office," said the nearest, pointing
out a stout man who sat in a ohair, reading
a newspaper, under a tree fronting a little
frame house. '^ I'll go and tell him."

" Anybody sick ? " asked another.

**A man has been shot in the mountains.
He is at the McLeods'. I am from there."

They asked a few more questions, and
then the doctor came forward. Corona
waited for no introduction, and earnestly
appealed to him. Could he get a horse
and go with her at once ? The case was ur-
gent. The man at Lonely Cove might bleed
to death.

' ' Who shot him ? " asked the doctor de-
liberately.

He was a little fat man somewhat past
middle age, w^ho looked as if he had never
been in a hurry in his life.

^' I found him so in the woods, answered
Corona restively. " I suspect a certain man,
but as I am not sure, I will not mention
his name — as yet. Can we not start at
once ? "

The doctor looked at the sun. " Dinner
will be ready in 'bout an hour," he ob-
served. ^^ Won't you 'light and take dinner
with me and my wife ? Then we could

Corona of the Nantahalas. 193

start right off. It's a powerful long ways
up to Lonely Cove, and we ought to have
dinner first."

Corona made no answer, but looked
steadily at the speaker, a peculiar, fiery
glare in her eyes. The expression of her
face was such as to frighten him, and to
stir the sympathy of the bystanders.

*^*Go^n' ter stop and eat when a man's
a-dyin' ? " asked one of them in disgust.

" Well, I'll be dog gone ! " audibly mut-
tered another.

** Well, I'll go and git ready right off,"
acquiesced the doctor, reluctantly turning
away.

The girl wondered what such a man could
be made of, as she saw him movino: slowly
about, making his preparations. She almost
feared that she would shriek out in her ex-
asperation and pain. He was not made of
stone, as she half believed, but of heavy,
solid flesh, iron nerves, and phlegmatic feel-
ings. What if a man had been shot and
was lying bleeding to death, could the
doctor be expected to excite himself and
rush around till his fat person was bathed
in a profuse perspiration ? People must
die, and if need be hearts must break, and

194 Corona of the Nantahalas.

mean while — if denied the privilege of wait-
ing for his dinner — the doctor must at least
take time to catch his breath.

Corona was repeatedly urged to alight and
refresh herself, but, after drawing rein in
front of the doctor's house, she refused to do
aught but sit on her horse and wait for
him. She saw him moving deliberately
about his house for some minutes before he
sent a half-grown lad to saddle his horse,
and she told herself bitterly that he was in-
exorable — he ought to be tortured !

At last he joined her, picking his teeth,
and they took the road. Then the girl led
him a fearful race upward through those
mountain wilds, and the plump doctor
cursed his hard luck. He was too proud to
allow himself to be left far behind, and at
many a risky turn in the path he swore
beneath his breath. But when, about the
middle of the afternoon, they arrived at the
farm-house, though severely jaded, he
showed interest in the case, rolled up his
sleeves, and went to work with a will.

Corona sprang to the ground and ran in
ahead of him. Mrs. McLeod met her at the
door, and answered the agonized appeal in
her eyes, by saying : ''He 'pears to be 'bout

Corona of tJie Nantahalas. 195

the same, though hit looks to me like he's
drunk euough water to kill him. Gid
didn't git home till you was half w\ay, I
reckon. He said you ought to 'a' waited for
him to fetch the doctor."

Corona said nothing in answer, and after
the doctor had gone into Darnell's room,
taking her uncle and Dan with him, she sat
down by her aunt on the porch, looked
long with dry eyes toward Parnassus, and at
leno^th sobbed convulsively.

The backwoods physician was not much
of a surgeon, and knew little of anatomy,
but he got the ball out successfully, and
performed such other offices as seemed im-
perative. He said the Avound was not
necessarily dangerous, but was very serious
and needed careful watching. The bullet
had passed close to the femur, narrowly
grazing the femoral artery and actually
cuttinsf two or more of its branches or
ramifications, and had deej^ly embedded
itself in the abductor muscles. The doctor
made several subsequent visits ; for it was
more than three weeks before Darnell could*
stand on his feet, and two months elapsed
before he entirely lost his limp.

After his first visit the doctor stayed over

196 Corona of the Nantahalas

niglit, and as Darnell was resting quietly
next morning, he returned home, at a rate
of speed much more leisurely and satisfac-
tory than that forced on him the day before.
Gideon McLeod accompanied him, with
the intention of procuring the arrest of
Jonathan Scruggs, whose name Darnell
had faintly articulated on the previous day
in response to the questions of his host.

Early in the evening of the same day the
mountaineer returned with the unexpected
news that Scruggs had been arrested the
afternoon before — not many hours after tlie
shooting — and carried off to jail on proof of
his being engaged in illicit distilling.

" When they git through with him for
that, we'll settle with him for sneakin' round
and shootin' from the bushes at an honest
man," said Gideon McLeod, with emphasis.

Corona was too much a child of nature
to hide her feelino;s when nothinoj demanded
such concealment. She hesitated only until
Darnell was resting tranquilly and not
likely to be harmed by excitement. On
the morning after her uncle's return from
Wolf Creek she went into Darnell's room
alone, and kneeling beside the bed, took the
hand which he extended.

Corona of the Nantahalas. 197

" I was hoping you would come to me/'
he said.

" Do you still love me, Edward ? ^' she
asked abruptly.

" I shall always love you, Corona. I am
not one of those who change."

'* And you wish to marry me ? "

** One question involves the other. I
could not love you without wishing to
marry you." He turned his head on the
pillow and looked up at her intently, in-
quiring: " Why do you ask me this ?"

'^ Don't you understand, Edward?" she
said, with a low laugh, a great new light in
her eyes, and her face a flame of blushes.
" I ask because — I love you!" Her head
was suddenly caught fast between his
hands and her face drawn down close upon
his, so that their lips rested together.

"I know now that it has been so a long
time," she told him, when at last he let her
go, " but it was not until I found you lying
on the ground — shot — and thought you
dead that — that "

^^That reconciles me to my wound," he
interrupted with a laugh. *^ The would-be
assassin little knows that he is my greatest
benefactor."

198 Corona of the NantaJialas.

By the time the invalid was fully restored
the summer was quite gone, and the neces-
sity of returning to New York in order to
fulfil his engagements presented itself to
him. He preferred to marry at Lonely Cove
rather than later on somewhere else, and as
any other arrangement would have wounded
the McLeods, this way was determined on by
the lovers.

"It almost breaks my heart to think of
leaving them,'^ said Corona as the time
drew near.

*^ We can come here every summer if you
wish," Darnell promised; "and they will
not feel that they are giving you up en-
tirely. As for Dan, if his father agrees, we
can take him to New York and put him
in a school where he will learn to read and
write, and a whole new world will open to
him."

A license was procured at "Wolf Creek for
the marriage of Edward Darnell and Corona
Casimiro, and the 15th of September was
the day chosen. The fat, lazy little doctor,
being invited to accompany the minister,
again submitted to the rough and dangerous
ride up from the lower valley in order to
eat a piece of Mrs. McLeod's cake and

Corona of the Nantahalas. 199

witness the marriage of the girl for whom
he felt a mixture of admiration and fear.

The devotees of fashion would have been
shocked to see a beautiful girl, arrayed in a
laurel wreath and a Greek robe of white
wool, stand up to marry a young man
wearing an outing shirt and a Norfolk
jacket ; but the two people most concerned
cared little for fashion or other such ex-
ternal matters, and thought only of their
arrival at the threshold of a great, enduring
happiness.

Napoleon,

Lover and Husband

By FREDERIC MASSON

Translated from the 14th French Edition
By J. M. HOWELL

FIVE PHOTOGRAVURE PLATES, 320 PAGES,
5VO, CLOTH, GILT TOP, $2.00

* * * * Frederic Masson has undertaken to reveal the lover's
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