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Champe bitterly deplored the fate of Andre, and confessed that the hope of saving the unfortunate young man had been his main inducement in undertaking his dangerous enterprise. Nothing now remained but to attempt the seizure of Arnold. To this object Champe gave his undivided attention.
Her eyes would smile, though her lips were as prim as a preacher's. Virginia gave a timid pull at Betty's frock. "Champe's goin' home with us," she said, "his uncle told him to You're goin' home with us, ain't you, Champe?" "I ain't goin' home," responded Betty, jerking from Virginia's grasp. She stood warm yet resolute in the middle of the road, her bonnet swinging in her hands.
My foot is on my neighbours' heath; I'm host to no man." "Come, now, Beau," remonstrated Jack Morson, looking down from his saddle; "I see in Miss Betty's eyes that she wants me to carry that holly I swear I do." "Then you see more than is written," declared Champe, from the other side, "for it's as plain as day that one eye says Diggs and one Lightfoot isn't it, Betty?"
"Do you reckon you could?" he debated, trotting along by the irresponsive Jilton boy. "Run home to your mother," growled the originator of the plan, savagely. "You ain't old enough to call on girls; anybody can see that; but I am, and I'm going to call on Champe Claiborne." Again the name acted as a spur on Ross. "With your collar and boots all dirty?" he jeered. "They won't know you're callin'."
Lightfoot looked up from her knitting with a serious face. "Don't you think it may last months, Mr. Lightfoot?" she inquired dubiously. "I was wondering if I hadn't better supply Champe with extra underclothing." "Tut-tut, ma'am," protested the Major, warmly. "Can't you leave such things as war to my judgment? Haven't I been in two? Months! Nonsense!
"You may choose between us, if you like, I have never interfered with your fancies but, by God, if you bring him inside my doors I I will horsewhip him, madam," and he went limping out into the hall. On the stair he met Betty, who looked at him with pleading eyes, but fled, affrighted, before the colour of his wrath; and in his library he found Champe reading his favourite volume of Mr. Addison.
"Confound the fashions!" retorted Dan, impatiently. "I don't care a jot for the fashions. You may have all these, if you choose," and he tossed the neckties upon the bed. Champe picked up one and examined it with interest. "O woman," he murmured as he did so, "your hand is small but mighty."
For the next few weeks he did not let Big Abel out of his sight. He rode with him to the pasture, he sat with him on his doorstep of a fine evening, and he drove beside him on the box when the old coach went out. "Big Abel says a gentleman doesn't go barefooted," he said to Champe when he found him without his shoes in the meadow, "and I'm a gentleman."
Champe yawned with insulting enthusiasm. Presently both girls quietly disappeared. Aunt Missouri never returned to the parlor evidently thinking that the girls would attend to the final amenities with their callers. They were left alone with old Mr. Claiborne. They sat as though bound in their chairs, while the old man read in silence for a while.
Champe broke short his whistling, and threw off his coat. "Well, I dare say she was fifty years ago," he rejoined gravely. "Oh, don't be an utter ass; you know I mean Virginia." "My dear boy, I had supposed Miss Lydia to be the object of your attentions. You mustn't be a Don Juan, you know, you really mustn't. Spare the sex, I entreat."
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