Behind the men was the foundation for this rustic attempt at
statuary,--an upright stake and bar in the form of a cross. This stood
on the highest part of the field; and as the men knelt near it, and
the quaint figures of the corn-planters went and came, the scene gave
a curious suggestion of foreign life. It was not like New England; the
presence of the rude cross appealed strangely to the imagination.
IV.
Life flowed so smoothly, for the most part, at the Byfleet Boor-farm,
that nobody knew what to make, later in the summer, of a strange
disappearance. All the elder inmates were familiar with illness and
death, and the poor pomp of a town-pauper's funeral. The comings and
goings and the various misfortunes of those who composed this strange
family, related only through its disasters, hardly served for the
excitement and talk of a single day. Now that the June days were at
their longest, the old people were sure to wake earlier than ever; but
one morning, to the astonishment of every one, Betsey Lane's bed was
empty; the sheets and blankets, which were her own, and guarded with
jealous care, were carefully folded and placed on a chair not too near
the window, and Betsey had flown. Nobody had heard her go down the
creaking stairs. The kitchen door was unlocked, and the old watchdog
lay on the step outside in the early sunshine, wagging his tail and
looking wise, as if he were left on guard and meant to keep the
fugitive's secret.
"Never knowed her to do nothin' afore 'thout talking it over a
fortnight, and paradin' off when we could all see her," ventured a
spiteful voice.
Pages:
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470