第12章

JOHN GRAY did not return to town by his straight course through the forest, but followed the winding wagon-road at a slow, meditative gait.He was always thoughtful after he had been with Mrs.Falconer; he was unusually thoughtful now; and the gathering hush of night, the holy expectancy of stars, a flock of white clouds lying at rest low on the green sky like sheep in some far uplifted meadow, the freshness of the woods soon to be hung with dew,--all these melted into his mood as notes from many instruments blend in the ear.

But he was soon aroused in an unexpected way.When he reached the place where the wagon-road passed out into the broader public road leading from Lexington to Frankfort, he came near stumbling over a large, loose bundle, tied in a blue and white neckerchief.

Plainly it had been lost and plainly it was his duty to discover if possible to whom it belonged.He carried it to one side of the road and began to examine its contents: a wide, white lace tucker, two fine cambric handkerchiefs, two pairs of India cotton hose, two pairs of silk hose, two thin muslin handkerchiefs, a pair of long kid gloves,--straw colour,--a pair of white kid shoes, a pale-blue silk coat, a thin, white striped muslin dress.The articles were not marked.Whose could they be? Not Amy's: Mrs.

Falconer had expressly said that the major was to bring her finery to town in the gig the next day.They might have been dropped by some girl or by some family servant, riding into town; he knew several young ladies, to any one of whom they might belong.He would inquire in the morning; and meantime, he would leave the bundle at the office of the printer, where lost articles were commonly kept until they could be advertised in the paper, and called for by their owners.

He replaced the things, and carefully retied the ends of the kerchief.It was dark when he reached town, and he went straight to his room and locked the bundle in his closet.Then he hurried to his tavern, where his supper had to be especially cooked for him, it being past the early hour of the pioneer evening meal.While he sat out under the tree at the door, waiting and impatiently thinking that he would go to see Amy as soon as he could despatch it, the tavern-keeper came out to say that some members of the Democratic Society had been looking for him.Later on, these returned.Ameeting of the Society had been called for that night, to consider news brought by the postrider the day previous and to prepare advices for the Philadelphia Society against the postrider's return: as secretary, he was wanted at the proceedings.He begged hard to be excused, but he was the scholar, the scribe; no one would take his place.

When the meeting ended, the hour was past for seeing Amy.He went to his room and read law with flickering concentration of mind till near midnight.

Then he snuffed out his candle, undressed, and stretched himself along the edge of his bed.