CHAPTER VI.

That night, never to be forgotten by me, we were kept entirely within doors, by a deluging rain. The winds shrieked through the groaning trees. The thunder rolled in constant and awe inspiring reverberations. The lightning kept the tent in a continuous blaze. Thoroughly protected, we were silenced by the awful voice of the tempest. A storm is never so grand as to the occupants of a tent in a wild forest, one seems then so close to Him who rides the winds and speaks in the roar of the thunder.

Just as nature seemed wearied of the intense exertion, the old mastiff sprang up with a growl and rushed toward the tightly closed tent door.

The curtain was drawn aside, when he sprang out into the night, and was soon in pursuit of some wild animal, evidently of considerable size, for we heard its flying tread in the darkness. When the storm abated, Jim reported that a fine mess of bass we had caught just before dark had been stolen. Mrs. Felden expressed regret, for several of the fish had been taken by her. Jack laughingly offered to go down to the Rock at day break, and bring back a mess in time for breakfast at seven.

When I awoke, the next morning the sun was quite high in the heavens. Mrs. Felden and Jim were already out, and evinced some impatience, because Jack had not returned with the promised breakfast. When seven o'clock came, the wife sent the old man to call her husband home, fish or no fish.

"Tell him," said she, "that the storm has made us ravenous."

When Jim also failed to return in due time, Mrs. Felden became alarmed and asked me to follow him. I set out, and although the ground was sopping wet, she joined me, in spite of my gentle remonstrances. We soon met Jim hurrying towards us. His face was of an ashen hue.

"Where is Jack, Jim--Oh where is my husband?" shrieked the mistress, as she rushed past the negro toward the water.

The man caught her arm, "Stop Miss Rita, stop Miss Rita, fer de Lord sake stop. I'll tell you, Miss Rita, please stop."

She tried to tear herself from his grasp. "Oh my God, he's dead--my husband is dead. Tell me--Jim, where is my husband?"

The negro forced her down on a boulder, and catching her hand covered it with tears and kisses. "Miss Rita, my dear Misses, be good an' I'll tell you all." She attempted in vain to arise, for a powerful arm held her firmly, but gently back.

I sat by her side, and lay my hand soothingly on her shoulder, saying--"Tell her, Jim, she is a brave woman and can bear the Lord's will. Tell her all."

The negro's face showed only too plainly that her worst fears were true. "Miss Rita--I'll tell you all. Be a good chile Miss Rita; jess be Mars Jack's wife, Miss Rita, an' I'll keep nothin' back."

"I will Jim--tell me the worst;" she uttered between choking sobs.

In a voice of intense grief and solemnity, Jim then said, "Be a good chile, Miss Rita; be de wife of de grandes' man what ever lived; Jim Madison never tole his marster an' mistis a lie. God is good, Miss Rita; his ways is unscrubable; he knows whats bes', for his chilluns. He wanted Mars Jack hisself; he done took him to his side. Mars Jack's drownded."

A wild shriek rang through the woods--a shriek of agony which caused the blood to run cold in my veins. The bereaved woman stared into vacancy, as though seeking her husband's form. She arose from her seat almost rigid, and without a word, fell in a dead swoon at our feet. So still did she lie and so long, that I feared she had passed away.

After a quarter of an hour, as it seemed to us, Mrs. Felden recovered a semi-consciousness--staring first at one of us and then at the other with piteously questioning eyes. When the horrible reality again dawned upon her awakening mind, the forest was filled with heart rending cries, silence only coming when she once more fainted away. I chafed her hands while Jim ran to the tents for camphor and brandy. We bathed her face and neck; fanned her; poured brandy between her parted lips--did all that suggested itself to our terrified minds. The swoon lasted so long that we had almost abandoned hope, when she breathed and opened her eyes--they were vacant.

She wept no more, but in low sweet tones murmured "Jack darling, don't be lonesome; I will come to you! Yes, Jack, I'll come."

These were repeated again and again, as we bore her to the tents and laid her on her bed. She immediately fell into a sleep lasting for hours, and only interrupted by sobs and moans. I watched by her bedside while Jim went off saying he had work on hand which must be done at once. When the poor lady awoke and looked into my face, I thanked the Giver of all, that she was herself again in mind, though her strength seemed quite broken.

Upon Jim's return she said in tones so calm, so gentle and so full of deep suffering, that they pained me almost as much as had her more active grief:

"Sit down Jim and tell me all about it. You said you would tell me all. You see I am calm. You see I can bear anything--everything bravely."

He replied in his simple caressing manner, "not ter day, my chile, you jes eat an' sleep an' git strong; ter morrer I'll tell you everything. You'se weak now, Miss Rita,--wait till ter morrer."

"I will Jim." She hardly spoke again during the day or following night.

When he brought her supper, she tried like an obedient child to eat all he urged upon her, saying in answer to his words of encouragement, "Yes, Jim; I must eat and be strong. I need all my strength."

When at dark, she seemed to sink into sleep, the negro and I sat outside the tent so that we could watch within, but far enough off we thought, to prevent our conversation reaching her ears.

He then told me that on going to the rock in the morning he saw that a large part of it weighing a ton or more, had fallen since the day before into the deep water at the precipice's base; there had been a thin crevice or fissure running through the rock, in which a few vines and small bushes had taken root. Into this crack the heavy rain of the night had swept, eating away the last puny tie which held the two parts together. Jack's weight in the morning was too much for it.

Jim found his rod floating at the base, the hook having caught on a small bush growing nigh. About half way down a part of his coat sleeve was hanging to a rough corner of the jagged rock. As the falling man went down on the broken mass, he had evidently clutched at the projection; had wrapped his arm about it, but had in some way been caught and forced downward tearing the sleeve from the arm.

Jim, who was a keen observer, understood at once that his master was down below among the ruins of the fallen mass. He threw off his clothes and dived to the bottom. In the second dive he discovered what he sought. He found his master's body lying on its back, held and pinioned by a massive stone weighing tons. After making this discovery, he had returned to meet us. But while his mistress slept in the afternoon, leaving me to watch by her side, he had again visited the Rock. He wore heavy flannels to protect himself as much as possible from the chilly water.

He found the body above the knees was free. He tried to draw it out, only to learn to his sorrow, that it could not be removed except by rending it from the lower limbs. The bottom was of gravel so compacted as to be nearly as hard as stone. The dead man had been caught below the knees in a recess or depression in the falling rock. Jim expressed great joy that this depression while holding his master's limbs as in a vise, had protected them from being crushed.

"We'll cut up de wings of de kitchen tent an' sew 'em tergedder three or fo' thick wid twine, and spread 'em over Mar's Jack an' den I'll put rocks on de canvas, an' down thar under de clean water it'll stay till de blessed Jesus calls his chilluns home."

I expressed great gratification that he had thought of this, and suggested that he could send for some loggers to give us aid.

He quickly stopped me. "No! No! Mr. Jamison! Mars Jack's been wearin' masks all dese long years. He's been hidin' from men. No man must' know his las' restin' place. No man but you an' me."

I honored this tender solicitude for his master's secret and at once acquiesced, telling him that, when Mrs. Felden's condition would admit of our both leaving her, I would aid him in his pious endeavors.

"Dat's right Mr. Jamison, me an' you must nuss dat darlin' chile--you an' me an' her an' Dinah knows his secrut. You an' me an' her an' Dinah mus' keep his secrut to our graves. If eny body helps us here, de officers and de newspapers'll be sticking dar oar in. I'd ruther see you an' Miss Rita down dar along side 'er Mars Jack, dan anybody should meddle in his matters."

He said this in subdued tones, but there was on his face a gleam of almost savage determination.

The next day Mrs. Felden was perfectly calm; her mind apparently clear, but there was a far away expression in her eyes that gave me uneasiness.

When Jim had removed the little breakfast table from her bedside, she said, "I am strong to-day, Jim; see how calm I am. I can hear and bear everything, as my husband's wife should do."

He told her all he had discovered, to the minutest detail. He controlled his voice and manner so as not to show the deep emotion with which his loving heart was almost breaking. His voice was low, sweet, and sympathetic. Having finished his account, he said, "Now chile, be a brave good woman. 'Member what a great big man Mars Jack was, an' how he loved his wife mor'n hisself. He's up thar, Miss Rita; his eyes is clar, for Jesus is by his side and makes him see everything; he sees you dis minit, an' knows you'll soon be beside 'im. Don't let him see you miserble."

Mrs. Felden's calmness astonished me. She listened in silence; tears rolled down her cheeks; her breast heaved with low deep sighs, but there was a strange light in her eyes, which looked afar off, and seemed to see her husband as the man described him. When the faithful negro had finished, he had her hand in his. For long minutes she uttered not a word. Her spirit was in that far off land beyond the skies or more probably at the foot of the rock. We watched her in silence.

At last she said, "Jim is right, Mr. Jamison. If my husband could speak to us now, he would bid us keep his secret." Her keenly atuned ears had evidently overheard Jim when he so urgently insisted that no one should help us.

"No one must know what has happened--no one but ourselves; we must do all. I will help for I am strong now. A few loggers have passed our camp, if they come again and make any inquiries, they must be made to believe my husband has gone away, and that he is coming back. No human being must ever know our grave," she quickly added, "where he sleeps."

She paused, her face brightened with unnatural light, and with a voice of exquisite sweetness, she whispered, "sleep well Jack! sleep well my husband, your wife will soon be with you."

Jim at once proceeded to his task. He asked me to row to the nearest store, for some sea-grass cord, and all the chains I could buy, without arousing suspicion.

I found no difficulty in completing my share of the preparations. Jim, in the meanwhile, made two sheets eight to nine feet square, and of four thicknesses of strong canvas, cutting up the wings of the tents for the purpose. We carried in the large boat, several hundred weight of boulders, as heavy as we could handle, to the shore near where poor Felden lay. These were to anchor down, for all time his last winding sheet. Two log chains were fastened securely around the edges of the canvas sheets; a mass of strong boughs were made ready for anchoring over and around the watery grave, so that accretions of sand and gravel collected and held by them, would guard Jack's body securely and well.