Christian life -- Juvenile fiction; Dinsmore, Elsie (Fictitious character) -- Juvenile fiction; Domestic fiction; Religious fiction
"I'll try, father," and the boy hastened away in the direction of the
stables.
He returned sooner than they dared hope, with the pony saddled and
bridled. Husband and wife bade a mournful adieu. Mr. Leland mounted with
his son's assistance, and silently they threaded their way through the
woods to Ion.
"Hoo! hoo! hoo!" the cry came in loud and clear through the open windows
of the bedroom of the master and mistress of Ion, and startled them both
from their slumbers.
"Hoo, hoo! hoo!" it came again, and with a light laugh, Elsie said, "Ah
it is only an owl; but to my sleeping ear it seemed like a human cry of
distress. But Edward--"
He had sprung from the bed and was hurrying on his clothes. "I doubt if
it is not, little wife," he said. "It is the signal of distress Leland
and I had agreed upon, and he may be in sore need of aid."
"Let me go with you!" she cried tremulously, hastening to don
dressing-gown and slippers. "Shall I strike a light?"
"No, not till we go down below where the shutters are closed. There is
no knowing what foe may be lurking near."
Seizing his revolvers, he left the room as he spoke, she following close
behind, a pistol in one hand, a lamp and match-box in the other.
Silently they groped their way over the stairs, through the halls and
corridors, till they reached a side door, which Mr. Travilla cautiously
unbarred.
"Who is there?" he asked scarcely above his breath.
"I, sir," and Mr. Leland stepped in and fell fainting to the floor.
Elsie had set her lamp upon a table, and laid her pistol beside it, and
while her husband carefully secured the door again, she struck a light
and brought it near.
Together they stooped over the prostrate form.
"He is not dead?" she asked with a shudder.
"No, no: only a faint; but, see, he is wounded! Your keys, wife!"
"Here," she said, taking them from her pocket, where, with rare presence
of mind, she had thrust them ere leaving her room.
They hastened to apply restoratives, and bind up the wound more
thoroughly than Mrs. Leland had been able to do it.
Restored to consciousness, Leland gave a brief account of the affair,
refreshed himself with food and drink set before him by Elsie's fair
hands, and then was conducted by Mr. Travilla to an upper room in a wing
of the building, dating back to the old days of Indian warfare. It was
distant from the apartments in use by the family, and had a large closet
entered by a concealed door in the wainscoting.
"Here I think you will be safe," remarked his host. "No one but my wife
and myself yet knows of your coming, and it shall be kept secret from
all but Aunt Chloe and Uncle Joe, two tried and faithful servants.
Except Dr. Barton; he is safe and will be needed to extract the ball."
"Yes; and my wife and boy and the Dinsmores," added Leland with a faint
smile. "Travilla, my good friend, I can never thank you enough for this
kindness."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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