第76章

ONE SEPTEMBER NIGHT a family had gathered round their hearth, andpiled it high with the driftwood of mountain streams, the dry cones ofthe pine, and the splintered ruins of great trees that had comecrashing down the precipice. Up the chimney roared the fire, andbrightened the room with its broad blaze. The faces of the fatherand mother had a sober gladness; the children laughed; the eldestdaughter was the image of Happiness at seventeen; and the agedgrandmother, who sat knitting in the warmest place, was the image ofHappiness grown old. They had found the "herb, heart's-ease," in thebleakest spot of all New England. This family were situated in theNotch of the White Hills, where the wind was sharp throughout theyear, and pitilessly cold in the winter- giving their cottage allits fresh inclemency before it descended on the valley of the Saco.

They dwelt in a cold spot and a dangerous one; for a mountaintowered above their heads, so steep, that the stones would oftenrumble down its sides and startle them at midnight.

The daughter had just uttered some simple jest that filled them allwith mirth, when the wind came through the Notch and seemed to pausebefore their cottage- rattling the door, with a sound of wailing andlamentation, before it passed into the valley. For a moment itsaddened them, though there was nothing unusual in the tones. Butthe family were glad again when they perceived that the latch waslifted by some traveller, whose footsteps had been unheard amid thedreary blast which heralded his approach, and wailed as he wasentering, and went moaning away from the door.

Though they dwelt in such a solitude, these people held dailyconverse with the world. The romantic pass of the Notch is a greatartery, through which the life-blood of internal commerce iscontinually throbbing between Maine, on one side, and the GreenMountains and the shores of the St. Lawrence, on the other. Thestage-coach always drew up before the door of the cottage. Theway-farer, with no companion but his staff, paused here to exchangea word, that the sense of loneliness might not utterly overcome himere he could pass through the cleft of the mountain, or reach thefirst house in the valley. And here the teamster, on his way toPortland market, would put up for the night; and, if a bachelor, mightsit an hour beyond the usual bedtime, and steal a kiss from themountain maid at parting. It was one of those primitive tavernswhere the traveller pays only for food and lodging, but meets with ahomely kindness beyond all price. When the footsteps were heard,therefore, between the outer door and the inner one, the wholefamily rose up, grandmother, children, and all, as if about to welcomesomeone who belonged to them, and whose fate was linked with theirs.

The door was opened by a young man. His face at first wore themelancholy expression, almost despondency, of one who travels a wildand bleak road, at nightfall and alone, but soon brightened up when hesaw the kindly warmth of his reception. He felt his heart springforward to meet them all, from the old woman, who wiped a chair withher apron, to the little child that held out its arms to him. Oneglance and smile placed the stranger on a footing of innocentfamiliarity with the eldest daughter.

"Ah, this fire is the right thing!" cried he; "especially whenthere is such a pleasant circle round it. I am quite benumbed; for theNotch is just like the pipe of a great pair of bellows; it has blown aterrible blast in my face all the way from Bartlett.""Then you are going towards Vermont?" said the master of the house,as he helped to take a light knapsack off the young man's shoulders.

"Yes; to Burlington, and far enough beyond," replied he. "I meantto have been at Ethan Crawford's tonight; but a pedestrian lingersalong such a road as this. It is no matter; for, when I saw thisgood fire, and all your cheerful faces, I felt as if you had kindledit on purpose for me, and were waiting my arrival. So I shall sit downamong you, and make myself at home."The frank-hearted stranger had just drawn his chair to the firewhen something like a heavy footstep was heard without, rushing downthe steep side of the mountain, as with long and rapid strides, andtaking such a leap in passing the cottage as to strike the oppositeprecipice. The family held their breath, because they knew thesound, and their guest held his by instinct.

"The old mountain has thrown a stone at us, for fear we shouldforget him," said the landlord, recovering himself. "He sometimes nodshis head and threatens to come down; but we are old neighbors, andagree together pretty well upon the whole. Besides we have a sureplace of refuge hard by if he should be coming in good earnest."Let us now suppose the stranger to have finished his supper ofbear's meat; and, by his natural felicity of manner, to have placedhimself on a footing of kindness with the whole family, so that theytalked as freely together as if he belonged to their mountain brood.