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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. 
 
 cr 
 cr 
 
 <r 
 
 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, 
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