Democratic Sentinel, Volume 7, Number 20, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 15 June 1883 — OUT OF THE WILDERNESS. [ARTICLE]

OUT OF THE WILDERNESS.

BY HILDA.

■“ln the wilderness!” Yes, there te just where Percy Redmond found him-' self one pleasant, hazy day iu October, and there, from all present appearances? he wae likely to remain for the faext Week. He waS One of a surveying party sent out by stimS rich Corporation to locate the rOute for a proposed raii- • road? and had been authorized to ineei the balance of the company at the little town where the opening of onr story makes his acquaintance. But what was his dismay, on reachihg the appbiflted place, to find a letter ist,ating that Mr. Latham, jfchti civil engineer, had met with, U slight accident; which would detain him in thti city for Several dayfc. ’’Looks as though tliiere might be plenty of game over in the woods; how is it, Mr. Wilkins?” asked Percy of the jolly-looking little landlord, who came out on the porch, dragging a cvuple of big chairs behind him. Although Mr. Wilkins was quite small in stature, he was by no means slender, and puffed like a porpoise at the least exertion.

“Plenty of game? Mr. Redmond? plenty of game, ’ seating himself, his short, fat logs scarcely reaching the floor, and? faunirg Vigorously with A broad-brimmed straw hat, Mr. Wilkins prepared to entertain his guest, a treat he seldom had tan pleasure of enjoyihg in this out-of-the-way place. “I believe if I can proctVo a gun and ammunition I writ take a tramp through the woods to-morrow,” said the young man, “just for the sport. ” “That can be had easy enough, Mr. Redmond, easy enough,” answered Wilkins, who had a habit of repeating his words. “Our schoolmaster, Mr. Maples, has a splendid gun that he will lend you wdllingly, T know; quite willingly.” “If the railroad shou'd pass through here, it will make the land in this vicinity quite valuable, I suppose,” said Percy, lastly puffing a tigifv. “You are right, sir; there is uo such timber in the State as this is here, not mentionin’ the rich soil. Do you see that break Iu the trec trop t ovei'ar uWi, sir?” and the h st's pudgy forefinger was pointed u the direction indicate I, “That’s Lute Maltis n’s timber. He owns about 300 acres over there, and, if this railroad should happen to light down here, you may just put him down for a rich man, you may.” “He must be worth something now,” said Redmond, “if he is the owner of so much land. ”

“There’s a sort of a mystery about the man, and the man has acted very queer. I'll just tell you about him,” and Wilkins produced a black clay pipe, like himself, short and stubby; after a deal of puffing and blowing it was lighted, and the blue smoke curling round about hig bushy head. • “This Lute Mattison lias lived in these parts for nigh alw>ut ten years. For a spell he lived here in ton n, but finally he bought ten acres of ground over the on the hill yonder, and has lived there ever since. He could just make a living, and that was all, for himself and the old woman. But here, sir, is where the mystery comes in. One day there was a letter come to the postoffice for Jfr. Luther Mattison, and the next day that man came here, dressed in his very best, and took the stage for B. “Well, he was gone about a week; when he came back he never lisped what his business had been or how far he had gone. No, sir, he never cheeped. In a few weeks he began to inquire the price of land around here, and the first we know Lute Mattison had bought 300 acres of land, and paid the cash, mind, paid spot cash. Now, where did he get that money, Btranger?” Percy was very sure he could, not tell, but he made a guess: “May be by Speculation ?” “You are wrong, sir; all wrong; because ho had nothing to speculate with. He is a smart man, sir; an eddicated man; but we never found out how he come by that money. Thar were some as talked about counterfeiting, but they didn’t talk very loud, for Lute’s a man o’ muscle, he is.”

“What did he want with so much land, ” asked Percy, more for the sake of something to say than for any interest he felt in the landlord’s story. “It was just before the railroad excitement was stirring us up here, a year ago this spring; pr’aps he thought he would make a speck. Well, that fall be made another trip, and when he come back, by George! he brought with him one of the purtiest girls that ever stepped in shoe-leather. She was all togged out in the finest of clothes, and she walked as though sne owned the universe. Not that she was so awful big, but she had such a*tproud way with her. Mattison brought the gal in here, while he was a ’tendin’ to her trunk, and interduced her as his niece, Miss Westfield. And, sir, you would have laughed to hear the remarks she made. She stood out here on the porch, a lookin’ round to see what sort of a place she had got into, when she up and asked my old woman where we attended church. Hanner Jane told her we had meetin’ over in the school-house about once in three months. Guess the young lady thought she bad lit down in a heathen land, I guess so, ha! ha l” Here Wilkins paused long enough to replenish and relight his pipe, then continued his story, while Redmqud sat lazily listening, with his heels, manlike, elevated to the top of the porch railing. “Well,” began the landlord, taking up the thread of his story again, “the gal hadn’t bin over there but a little spell, till Mattison goes to work and builds the finest house to be found in these here parts—Hie very best; and he had. cart-loads of furniture brought down from the city; and them that knows says as how he has got a pianner that takes up onA whole side of a room. Yes, sir: and there’s not one of us

whtire the man gttt ftll the mtiney from to biiy all thiti land Ana things 'with.”,. “Perhaps the money belonged to his niece, n ] sijggestod RedmW, began tp display someinterest in Luther Mattison and fits affairs. “No, sir! Oh, no!” and Wilkins slapped his fat knees with emphasis. “But it will come to light some day. * Murder will out,’ yea know—yes, it will, sir,” Here his kotowing winks and nods were tint short by the summons to supper. That evening Percy Redmond made the acquaintance of the school-teacher, Mr. Maples, a man of about 22 or 23 years, of age. He proved to be qttite a sensible ffelloW, Who * found employment by teaching ddring the summer months, thus earniilg hjtoiiey tti pay fiw oWu ti*ptenses at college through the winter search. “Mri Redlhtiiid says if he can get i gun he will go a huntin’ to-day,” Remarked the landlord at the breakfasttable next morning; “and I took the liberty of offerin’ yours, Mr. Maples/ How is it? Willin’to lend?” said he, addressing the teacher.' “Certainly, Mr. liedmond, you are welcome to the use of my guns and as I keep a horse, please consider that also at your disposal, should you feel ihclined to take A ride,” said the young thacker, who; thotigh not at all a haritlstitiie man, appeared to be quite" an accommodating one. “Thanks, Mr. Maples,” returned Redmond. “On second thought I believe I will take a ride this morning; and as to-morrow is Saturday, perhaps yoU crin joiH me in a day’s hunting?” . .. 4 “Agreed,” said Maples, and half an hour later, he stood in the School-house door, callihg together the noisy little horde of children, while Percy Redmond went cantering down the road on a spirited young horse. It was a beautiful morning and as Percy sped along the narrow road'-leading through the woods, he could not help admiring the wild beauty of the scene. The mellow haze of Indian summer hung like a misty Vuil fi'flfii the bine sky. Herfe and there a scarlet maple-leaf, or golden hickory, heralded the coming autumn and gAve a dash df enlivening cbltir tti the background of somber green. The sound of the woodman’s ax awdke a thousand echoes through the forest aisles, while the distant baying of a hound on the chase, was answered by i the report of a sportsman’s gun. Through a sense of curiosity Percy had taken thevoad leading through the land owned by Mr. Mattison; he thought to himself that he would like to see the house in this wilderness that held those two things over which the landlord had become so voluble 1 a handsome young lady, and & piano. His curiosity was soon gratified; a sudden turn in the wagon-track disclosed a wholly-unexpected Bight. Standing back on a slight eminence rites a two-story w bite cottage; whose suri roundings all spoke of culture and rei finement. The house was backed by I several acres of cultivated land; a well- , kept lawn in front was dotted here and | there with beds of blooming flowers', I growing luxuriantly in the rich soil. Plants were grouped on the verandas, while from a cage a Canary poured forth a melody of song. And, as. Redmond rode slowly by, admiring the neatness and good taste that reigned everywhere, the soft notes of a piano played by an experienced hand, came floating out upon the balmy morning breeze. “Found in this wild forßst, it is almost- like a glimpse of Paradise,” thought Percy, as entering the woods again, he turned in the saddle-, find look back At the pleftsUnt home. He could bevel* tell how it happened, he caught one glimpse of a dog bounding across the path in front of the horse, the bridle rein, lying loose in his hand was jerked away, the horse gave one frightened spring, flung Percy against the trunk Of a large tree, and sped away with empty saddle, while his rider lay bruised and unconscious upon the ground. “There Rir 1 I guess you are all right now,” were the words that greeted Peroy’s returning senses. “Where am I? what has happened?” he asked of the man who had raised his head from the ground and was supporting him.

“Your hofUe took fright at my dog, and threw you. The fall was quite severe, and rendered you unconsoioiis for a few minutes,” answered the man, as, with the gentleness of a woman, he assisted Percy in his efforts to arise. “But I do not think you are seriously injured.” But a deathly pallor overspread the injured man’s face. “My leg, I fear it is broken,” and he again lost consciousness. The stranger laid him gently down, and, running quickly to the edge of the clearing, called to a man who was busy piling cord-wood; together they lifted the inanimate form, and carried him lo the cottage he had so admired a short time before.

When Percy again opened his eyes, instead of lying on the soft green moss, with the tall trees of the forest towering above him, be found himself resting upon an easy couoh, within the white walls of a pleasant room. The man who had so fortunately been near when he was thrown from the horse, was again bending over him. Percy glanced inquiringly about him. “This is not the tavern?” he asked. “No; but you are where you will be taken care of,” answered the man. “I have already dispatched a man for a physician, as your limb requires immediate attention.” “I think my leg is broken just below the knee,” and a spasm of pain convulsed the handsome features of Percy Redmond, as an attempt was made to remove his boot.

“Oh! uncle, do not try to pull it off;” it was a very sweet voice that stole into the confusion of the young man’s brain, and the speaker laid a white band on his brow, as if to arouse him from the faintness stealing over him. “Would you care, sir, if uncle cut the boot ?” “Cut it, please; but bow much I am troubling you all.” “Not at all, sir,” and the man held up the mutilated boot which he had removed from the shapely foot. “You are in the house of Luther Mattison,..and here you must remain. You shall receive the best of care, which is one thing landlord Wilkins could not give you. You are a stranger here, are you not?” “Yes, I belong to the surveying party sent out by the proposed railroad. My home is in New York, and my name is Percy Redmond.” "Redmond!” ejaculated Mattison, “can it be that , you are the son of George Redmond, my old friend and schoolmate?” ~ • “That was mv father’s name, sir, and is it posssible that you are the ‘Mattie’

o! whom i haie heard hitri speak so often ?” .fi .. “I am man,” said Mr. Mattison.’ as he warmly grasped Percy’s hand, ‘‘You see, at school we were such warm friends that the boys.used to call us and his. Mattie;’ and it gives me great pleasure to meet the son of* my old friend, even if you do come with a broken leg.” Just then a sweet-faced woman entered, followed by the young, lady who had quitted the room a moment before. “This is my wife and my niece, Miss Westfield. Mr.. Redmond, I you will not lack nuTseft. Mother, you coUld neve* guess who our injured gUest is, h said turning to his wife; and when he had told her; she expressed her pleasure at being able to dare for him. “I aid trety stirry you have xnet with so painful mi abcideut, Mr: Redmbpd, but I am glad, sin tie it did happen; that you. Were ntiair tte.” .. “Well, and what doyod ( want of and a cheery, hearty voice broke in on the conversation, as a jolly, broadshouldered map was ushered into the room. “I met your messenger about a mile down the road, said somebody was killed.” And despite the pain Peroy wa* suffering, he could not repress a Bmile at the way the toan bustled about. “Nobody killed,, doctor, though this ytiung man met with quite ab accident; ” explained Mr. Mattison., but by this time, the physician, having dropped his medicine case in one chair, his hat in another, flung his gloves into the corner and laid his riding whip on the mantle, had found out for himself what was wanted of him.

“Leg broke, iti it? it mttst be mended at Oncq. ”, And though be bustled about so, and spoke with a quick, jerky way, his hands were gentle, his touch light as a woman’s. “Mrs. Mattison, some bandages, please, and a bowl of warm water, also; Mattison, go to my saddle-bags and bring me some splints you will find there. Where iB your niece? send her here. Here she is; good morning Mies Gladis; we want & bed fixed feady stir this young man; this one, right here, where, you women folks can attend to him;” arid he tlitew open the bed-room dooi-; “fix that up, then go out in the other rpom and keep yourself ready for further orders.”

With quick, noiseless tread, the young lady did as directed, then withdrew, and for nearly an hour she could hear the occupants of the other apartment, as they moved about, with now and then a low moan from the sufferer. “Is he seriously injured, auntie?” she asked of Mrs. Mattison, when that lady finally made her appearance/ . “Dr. Morton says Ips limb is badly fractured, bid he thjnks there arb ho other serious Injuries.” “Now, Mrs. Mattison, I have given the young fellow ap opiate; sb you need not be frightened if he sleeps a good part of the day,” said the jolly doctor, coming into the room. “Having him here will give you women folks something to do. Good morning; ladies; I will call again to-morrow,” and he was off and gone, like a small whirlwind. Percy Redrrfcmd slept until the sun was almost dcrvn. His slumbers had been broken and disturbed, and as Gladis Westfield near<l the moans bf pain that frequently escaped the handsome stranger’s pale lips, she pitied him, as she thought how far he was from home, among strangers, and suffering so. She sat by the open window, looking out upon the purple haze of twilight, and as she sat so quiet and still, k pair Of brown eyes were watching her from the bed-rooni opposite. Percy had awoke from his sleep, bewildered and half dazed, but the events of the day came slowly back to his memory, and when he saw Gladis sitting by the wnidow, he did not wonder that the landlord, Wilkins, had thought her a beautiful, young lady. A 1 face of almost chisel d delicacy, a clear brunette skin, its darkness relieved by a dash of color on the rounded cheeks, and the ruby-red of her lips. Great, luminous hazel eyes, shaded by the longest of black lashes. An abundance of glossy black hair, that waved back from a broad white forehead. A form of moat graceful mold was what Percy Redmond saw when he awoke from hiS enforced sleep. A slight movement he made . attracted the girl’s attention. “Are you awake, Mr. Redmond?” she asked, as she came to the door. “Is there anything I can do for you ?” “Nothing, thank you,” answered Percy, “except to teli me, if Mr. Maples’ horse has been recovered ?” “Yes, he was caught but a short distance from where your accident occurred, and was returned to his owner. Mr. Maples also sent word that he would call over this evening to see you. ” Next morning, when the doctor called, he found his patient doing finely. “You will have to lie here for some time, though, and the surveying party best look up a substitute for you,” remarked he as he was leaving.

“Oh, they can dispense with my aid, as I am not a necessary addition to their number!” explained Percy. “I am with them more for the benefit of my health than for pecuniary gain.” “All right,” said the old doctor; “if your time isn’t money, so much the better; only keep quiet and don’t get homesick and you will soon be all right.” But Percy gained very slowly, and a month had rolled away before he was allowed the privilege of coming to the table with the members of the family. Even then he was not permitted to try the strength of his broken limb. Air. Mattison wheeled the big chair out into the dining-room, and Percy was as happy as a child to think he was once more able to leave the room where he had learned to be patient in enduring suffering. But he had learned another lesson there, too—a very sweet lesson, one that he had not studied the rudiments of before. He had learned to love sweet Gladis Westfield; and, from the flush that dyes her cheeks and the shy drooping of the brown eyes, as she places a footstool' for him, one might judge two scholars had been studying from the same book. During the days of his convalescence she has read to him, and when evening came she has entertained him with music and song, and the time has sped away so quickly that Percy can hardly realize the fact that he has spent a month in the heart of the wilderness. “Why' is it, Mr. Mattison, that yon live here, if I may be so inquisitive?” he asked, one evening. “Well, I live here now because I like the life and I like the place; but I came here because, thropgh a venture in speculation, I lost all I had, and necessity compelled me to do something. I had no trade, and then, too, I was disgusted with the city where I had lost so much.” “But you have prospered here,” said

Percy. “Yon have a flhe home and a fortune in your timber lands.” , “Yes,”rejoined Mattison, “the land here will be a fortuiie to the .Owner some day.” They weto alone .Ju .the sitting-room .of the cottage, and Percy determined to speak of bis love for Glad is, and ask her nncle’s consent to bis addressing her. “Has your niece always lived with Eon?” asked the young man, although e was very well aware she had not. “Oh, n<y she has been here but about two years- After her parents died she was left so friendless that we insisted tin her Coming to Us for a while, ” “You jriil be very lonely when she does leave you, fi Was Percy’s next remark. „ Mr. Mattison looked at him sharply. “Gladis does not talk of leaving, does Sli£ ?” be asked;quickly. “Not that I know of; that ,is; I did npt hear her mention it,” stammered Percy; “but; tti toll ytiu the truth, - Mri Mattison, I em in—that is, I love Gladis, and I wish to gain your consent to tell he* so.” r . “What if she is very poor?” asked Mattison; “are yon willing to marry a portionless bride ?” and his eyes twinkled as he looked searchingly into his companion’s face. “Certainly I am,” answered Percy; “t ani not seeking richas; for I have plenty. What I asked for was Gladly Westfield, whom! love; and,,although I have said nothing of this tti the young lady, I think she reciprocates the feeling.” “There is no one, Percy, to whom I would rather trust the future happiness of my niece. Your father was a very dear friend of mine, and you possess tinoflgh of qualities to win my sincere regard. ■ Ytiu have my consent to address Glauis v .&nd I jlti not th’iiik you will And it very difficult to gain he* affections;” and Luther Mattison warmly grasped the hand of his guest. • “Thank yon kindly,” responded Percy, his frank face flushing with pleasure. “I have still another favor to ask: Do not let Miss Westfield know that I possess any property. If her answer should prOVti favorable, I should like to giVfe, her b happy surprise s6nie tifflti in*the future.” . , , ~ “Very well, I will be silent,” skid Mr. MUttison, ahd he laughed quite heartily, though Percy thought tti himself there was surely nothing to laugh about. That-Percy was successful in his wooing, I need only invite you into the cozy parlor of the cottage to show,-and if you can interpret the Varied emotions of the human soul as depicted by the countenance, you would pronounce Percy Redmond a happy man. Yon would alSo sSV Gladis snared hjs hapEiiiess, as they sit together iti the t,wight; talking quietly and Watching ,the snow : flakes falling gently, coming like silent messengers from an unknown, silent world. It is but one week before *tha holidays, and to-morrow Percy leaves for the distant city. But he is to return ere long to bear away his bride found in the wilderness. “I have been idle so long,” Percy was saying, as he caressed the shapely hand resting in his broad palm, “that, now T am fully recovered from the effects of my ftccident, I must bestir myself in preparing a home for the future. You will be contented, Gladis, if it is but an humbie hqme?” “Have I not told you before?” rejoined the girl. “And I have learned so much about housekeeping from auntie, that we can get along nicely without hiring help.” Percy thought, “What a treasure I have Wdn! The dear girl is willing tti go with me in spite of my fancied poverty.” But he did not notioe the mischievous smile that dimpled the fade of his oompanion. Their pleasant chat was interrupted by the entrance of Mr. Mattison.

“What! all in the dark? Light up and read your letters,” and he tossed a letter to each.

Presently the lamps were lighted, and seated near the center-table, the young people were soon busy in the perusal of their respective letters. Percy read his partly through, then glanced with a perplexed, inquiring look across the. table. Gladis looked up with a puzzled expression in her brdwn eyes. Again, without any words, they turned to the reading of the letters. Again their eyes met, with the wonder and astonishment deepening on their faces. “Gladis, have you any relative bearing the same name as yourself?” asked Percy. “Not that lam aware of,” answered Gladis. “But may I ask, have you any relative by the name of Percy Redmond ?” “No, I have not; but here is something Ido not understand. I have deceived you ajittle, Gladis. lam not a poor man; in fact, lam what the world would call rich. I wrote to my lawyer to purchase a house in Philadelphia, as I thought you would like to live there, in preference to New York, and here is the answer I have received.... Read it, please, and tell me, if you c£n> who is meant by the lady mentioned. Laughing merrily, Gladis took the letter, and in turn banded him the one she had received.

“Read that, Percy, and I think we will come to a mutual understanding,” and she proceeded to read the. paper whioh she held in her hand, and which bore the heading of a prominent New York lawyer. “Dear Percy,” was the familiar ginning of the letter, — “According to Instructions, I have been to Philadelphia, and think I have found a house that will just suit you It is a large, brownstone residence,' with extensive grounds, and Is situated in a splendid localitj r . The price asked is $15,000, and is the property of a Mss Gladis Westfield, who does not wish to be longer burdened with the care of It If you want the place, please communicate with me at once, as there are others who have an eye on the property. Are you about to commit matrimony,“my bov? If so, please accept my best wishes. Hoping this may find you fully recovered from your accident, I remain your friend, Nathan Babton, Solicitor: Meanwhile, Percy had read the following : Miss Gladis Westfield: Bear Madam. —About three months ago you authorized me to dispose of the brownstone residence on street. I have at last found a purchaser, If you still wish to dispose of it, The agent of Mr. Percy Redmond, of New York, called on me a few days ago. The house suits him, and your decision must he made Immediately. Please inform me at once how to proceed, as there seems to be tome urgency in the case. Very respectfully, jB. F. Pabkhubst, Attorney. “Does this mean you, Gladis ?” asked Percy, as he caught a glimpse of the smiles Gladis strove in vain to hide. “Yes,” she answered, “and I was going to give you a glad surprise. I thought you were quite poor, and I could help you some with my money,” and her uncle entered the room just in time to hear her last words.

•Well, w* explanations hi |ie asked, as be came and laid hie band •lovingly on tbe head of his niece. “If so', I,havti some to make to Mr. Redmond. I tiXpetit Wllkinti, the landlord, told you of my buymig so. mgeb land here, and I ftfld you, too,' that nobody knew where the money c«me from!. It belonged to Gladis, he#ej even tlie money that bnilt this house is hers.” “No! no! unde, the house is yours, and & part of the timber land. We can spare it, e£n’f Percy? Uncle and auntie have been sti hind to ,mq,” and Gladis laid her rosy cheek on the rough hand of her uncle. “I thought myself rich in winning you without the lands; we Would not miss it, dear, were you to deed th 6 whtile 300 aeres to your uncle, which I think you had best dti,” said Percy" but how aliout the town house ? Wul you sell it to me, or shall I have to lqdk further?” The buying apd stilling of the town hh'nse Was satis?actcffly settled between them, and after tlie holidays its dtiors were opened,for the, reception 6f. the many friends of Gladm, novi Mrs. Percy/Redmond, the bride found “in the Vflderness,” and in the admiring eyes of her husband, her beauty and grace outshone the many woniefl gathered Ihere.— Chicaao Ledger.