WALDSTRICKER AND MOTHER MOLL
“Deforrest is so interested
in the little Skinner girl,” Helen Young explained
to Ebenezer Waldstricker when they were alone after
supper. “Ever since he helped to get her
father out of Auburn, he’s done all he could
for her.”
“He’s a philanthropist
at heart, I imagine,” remarked Ebenezer, agreeably.
“Yes, and so good to everybody.
Dear Forrie! I wish he’d meet the right
woman and marry her. He’d be so happy in
a home of his own. When I think of leaving him
alone ”
The tender face flushed crimson, and
happy eyes dropped under the man’s bright gaze.
He reached over and took a slender hand in his.
“But you’re not sorry
you’re coming with me, are you, dear?”
he chided gently, and Helen lifted her head with a
glad cry.
“Oh, no, no, darling!...
I’m the happiest woman in the world!”
“And I’ll keep you so,” replied
Ebenezer, in earnest.
“I was thinking, though,”
observed Helen, after a moment, “that Deforrest
might come with us if he hasn’t made other arrangements.”
Waldstricker contemplatively kissed
each pink finger of the small hand he held, then pressed
his lips to the soft palm.
“I should like very much to
have him, Helen,” said he. “I’m
very proud of your brother, you know.”
“You can’t make me happier
than to praise him,” she smiled.
For several minutes no more was said.
Then Waldstricker spoke as though thinking aloud,
“I wonder if that little Skinner
girl will be of any assistance in the matter of locating
Bishop?”
“Perhaps,” replied Helen.
“She seemed very eager to get the money!
Don’t you think so?”
“Yes, I think she did, but I’ve
been wondering if she’s trustworthy. Is
she, Helen?”
Miss Young made a hasty affirmation.
“Yes, indeed, she’s more
than that!” she exclaimed. “She wouldn’t
deceive any one she loves for anything in the world,
so Deforrest tells me.”
“I sincerely hope so,”
sighed Ebenezer. “I’ve quite set my
heart on her helping me. Money is no object in
a matter like this.”
“Of course not,” murmured Helen, sympathetically.
“Letts also is doing some good
work,” Ebenezer continued. “He’s
been through nearly every hut on the Rhine.”
Helen shivered. “I can’t
tolerate that man around,” she replied.
“Once in a while he comes here to see Deforrest
or to sell something, and I can’t get him away
quickly enough.”
“He’s a good spy, though.
That’s all I want. He and the Skinner girl
ought to produce that dwarf between them.”
“I hope so for your sake, dear,” murmured
Helen.
Waldstricker took out his watch and glanced at it
hurriedly.
“It’s time for me to go,
sweetheart,” said he. “I want to get
home before dark. Come as far as the lane with
me do!”
“The twilight is lovely, isn’t
it?” whispered the girl, when they were traversing
the pear orchard.
“Made more lovely because of
you,” replied Waldstricker, sentimentally.
“How romantic you are tonight, dearest!”
Helen laughed.
They had turned slowly up the hill,
when suddenly Helen stopped and slipped her hand into
Ebenezer’s arm.
“There is that old woman you
heard read from the fortune pot!” she exclaimed.
“Let’s step one side until she’s
passed us? She rarely lets a person go by without
speaking.”
Waldstricker threw up his head arrogantly.
“I’m not afraid of the hag,” he
replied pompously.
Together they advanced up the hill.
Mother Moll, leaning on her cane, crept slowly down
toward them. When her faded, nearsighted eyes
caught sight of the two approaching figures, she halted
in the middle of the road until they were almost upon
her. She stared at Waldstricker fully fifteen
seconds, while he looked steadily back at her.
Then her withered lips spread wide in a sneering,
cackling laugh.
“So he air aready been settin’
on yer head an’ layin’ on yer heart, mister,”
she greeted him, “the leetle man like this, huh,
ain’t he?”
She shook her cane at the tall man
and clacked at him again. Helen was conscious
that at Moll’s insults, Ebenezer’s anger
was rising by the minute. She was herself greatly
moved by a kind of superstitious awe of the old woman’s
cryptic utterances. But seeking to avoid any further
unpleasantness, she smiled in a friendly manner and
asked,
“How do you do, Mother Moll?”
The hag thrust forward her face and raised one withered
arm,
“I air fine, young lady,”
she screamed, crooking her fingers at the girl, “an’
feel finer’n you can do this day, or ye’ll
ever with him.” She pointed her cane at
the scowling, dark-faced man; and slowly bobbed her
head back to Helen. “Yer life’ll draw
out long an’ terrible, till ye’ll wish
ye hadn’t never seen ‘im. He’ll
set up a knot hole an’ drag ye livin’
through it. Then he’ll turn yer heart inside
out an’ haul ye back again.”
She paused, while Waldstricker’s
face grew darker and darker. The frown on his
brow roused Helen to action.
“Let’s go on, dear,”
she whispered. “Don’t pay any attention
to her foolish talk.”
“Not yet,” returned Waldstricker, ominously.
“Not yet!”
Moll laughed discordantly, shaking
her head until the wisps of gray hair fell in strings
about her face.
“He knows I ain’t done
tellin’ ye what’ll happen if ye line yer
life with his’n,” she croaked. “Lady,
he air wicked, awful wicked, an’ nothin’
but misery, deep an’ plentiful, air a goin’
to make him any better. Every one he loves ”
Incoherently, she rambled on and the
man’s countenance took on an expression of such
rage that Helen Young uttered a cry of dismay.
She had never seen Ebenezer in one of his savage moods.
Before she could draw him away, he had lifted his
riding whip and a sudden twist of his arm brought
it sharply down on the grandam’s thin bent shoulders.
“Ebenezer!” screamed Helen, horrified.
“Drat ye, ye brute!” cried
Moll, tottering back, “an’ twice drat ye!”
She swayed forward on her cane. “Ye can
lick me till I die, an’ ’twon’t
change yer own life any. It’ll only add
to the sufferin’ ye got to go through yerself.”
Waldstricker’s arm went up again,
but Helen grasped it frantically.
“Ebenezer, don’t!...
Don’t strike her any more. Please!...
Go home, Mother Moll.... Please go! Oh,
do!”
The old woman leaned heavily on her
stick, tearless sobs shaking her emaciated frame.
For a space of sixty seconds her watery, faded eyes
stared into Waldstricker’s flashing dark ones then
she drew a long, convulsive breath.
“It air like ye to hit the awful
young an’ the awful old,” she shrilled
at him, “but, ’twon’t do ye no good.
Curls’ll bring yer to yer knees, hair’ll
make yer heart bleed blood redder’n the sun,
an’ the leetle man’ll jerk ’em tight
’bout yer throat till ye thunder out fer
mercy.”
“Come along,” muttered
Ebenezer, roughly, to Helen. “If she torments
me any more, I fear I’ll kill her.”
His words were not so low but they
caught the quick ear of the old woman.
“Kill me, yep, kill me, ye proud
whelp! Go ’long; do it, ye big coward!
Before ye’re done with life, ye’ll hate
yerself worse’n uther folks hate ye.”
She hobbled a little distance, reaching
backward to rub her shoulders. Then she twisted
completely around, facing the other two.
“Mind my word, pretty miss,”
she croaked in half grunt, half yelp. “Let
‘im go like ye would a snake; like ye would a
slimy worm a crawlin’ at yer feet.”
Still snarling in pain, she lifted one shaking arm
and pointed a crooked forefinger at Waldstricker.
“She won’t always stay with ye, ye skunk
ye!” Then she staggered away, Helen and Ebenezer
staring after her until she was lost in the gloom of
the gully.
“Isn’t she dreadful?” Ebenezer said,
with a rueful laugh.
“She’s so old,”
was Helen’s gentle reproof. “She’s
not accountable for anything. Deforrest says
she’s very good to the other squatters.”
“They’re an unseemly mess.”
The man struck at an overhanging bough savagely.
“And your brother has power enough to remove
the worst of them if he wanted to. That old hag,
for instance ”
“Deforrest wouldn’t do it,” interjected
Helen.
“He may if I make it worth his
while,” replied Waldstricker. “But
there, I was foolish to let ’er get on my nerves
so. I beg your pardon, dear. My only excuse
is I dislike to see the laws of God broken in such
an iniquitous way. Why, I felt when I struck
her the righteous indignation the Master must have
felt when he drove the money changers from the temple.”
Helen looked at him, startled.
She was shocked at his words, as she had been terrified
by his act.... A dreadful doubt darted into her
mind. Was Mother Moll right? Could she be?
Instantly she dismissed the suggestion, condemning
herself for paying any attention to the empty vaporings
of the half-witted, childish, old woman. She
was sorry for Moll, of course, and grieved and hurt
because Ebenezer had lost his temper and struck her.
But her loving heart excused him. Certainly the
provocation had been great. Old Moll was unusually
impertinent.
Intent to repair the momentary disloyalty
of her doubt, she pressed his arm lovingly.
“There, dear, let’s not
speak of it again. It’s over now and we’ll
forget all about it.”
A little later, when Waldstricker
was moodily riding toward Ithaca, Mother Moll’s
hateful prophecies repeated themselves in his mind.