The Kentucky Gazette

MAN WITH A BLACK BEARD.

BY MARY KYLE DALLAS.

We were all assembled in the little room, girls on one side, boys on the other, and Miss Linda in the middle at a mahogany desk piled with spell-books and graced by a polished ruler, within the memory of the oldest, had never been used for a more unpleasant purpose than to rule copies; for Miss Linda's sway was a gentle one as any one who looked at her face could well have imagined. Even our way of calling her Miss Linda was the result of this; any other teacher would have been addressed by her surname, but we never even thought of ours as Harrington.

This day I cannot guess her age; she was certainly young, but her features had a lovely peculiarity of their own which made it impossible to say how young she was. In her mirthful moments she looked like a merry child. In sadder ones she was quite a woman; but in any mood she was as beautiful as perfect features, ivory skin, wealth of golden hair, great, long, black eyes could make her. She was in her merry mood this morning, where were dimples in her rosy cheeks, and those bright eyes outrivaled brightest diamonds that ever glistened in the tresses of a princess.

The stupid scholar of the school (there always is a stupid scholar in the school) was stumbling over his spelling lesson, and falling over the insurmountable word 'physician.' He had spelt it 'fizzi-fusition,' and at present was struggling with despair, and oblivious to the promptings of a sympathizing little girl behind the teacher's chair, was preparing to cover his eyes with his coat sleeve and bemoan himself, when the school was suddenly startled by flinging open of the door, and the entrance of little Lily Darwin, the smallest of the small children under Linda's care, in a state of violent agitation.

'Oh, the man, the man!' sobbed Lily. 'The great tall man with black beard! He's frightened me out of my senses!'

'What man, Lily?' asked Miss Linda compassionately. 'How did he frighten you, my dear?'

'He came close behind me and said, "Never, never!" answered the child; then he put his hand to his forehead and went away out of sight down by the river. Oh, I am so frightened, frightened, Miss Linda, you can't think.'

'It was only some poor crazy man, dear,' said Miss Linda, 'You are safe now at all events; wipe away your tears and tell me all about it.'

'I was coming along the green lane to school, Miss Linda hurrying very fast for fear of being late, when I met the new minister, who stopped to shake hands with me, and asked how you were; and said he would look in at the school this afternoon and hear us sing; while I was answering him the tall man with the black beard passed us and then stopped beside the water. When the minister turned away he followed after him, and then walked very quickly toward school and then back again, and then clapped his hands and cried "Never, never, never!" out loud. It frightened me so that I cried and ran here as fast as I could.'

This horrible narration affected all the smaller children as a ghost story would have done; and Miss Linda after looking around at these frightened faces laughed merrily, and expressing her decided opinion that the gentleman with the black beard had escaped from the lunatic asylum, called the school to order and proceeded in her usual routine of duties, as though nothing particular had occurred.

Early in the afternoon 'our minister' did call. He had a habit of visiting the school, and it appeared to me that the teacher was much more interesting than her scholars. At all events, it was certain that he looked at her much oftener than he did at us, and was very particular about shaking hands when he took his leave. He was a young and very handsome man, and rumor said that he was exceedingly in love with our Miss Linda. He lingered in the bright school-house a long while on that bright summer afternoon; but he went at last and then the children were dismissed, and the little building closed for the night.

My way was the same as Miss Linda's, and I trotted along beside her holding tightly to her simple muslin dress, and chatting all the while. We came before long to the pretty cottage where our schoolmistress boarded. The woman of the house—a talkative New Englander—sat with her knitting upon the porch. She greeted Miss Linda with a smile and began to empty her budget of small talk and news forthwith.

'Did your ears burn?' she said. 'They ought to for you have been talked about enough. There was a stranger here—a foreign looking man with a long black beard: and he asked me about the place and the people in it, and appeared to be much interested about the school, and asked the name of the teacher and what sort of person she was, I told him as near as I could; and, says I, I shouldn't wonder if she left off being schoolmistress and went to live at the parsonage before long, for our minister is paying very particular attention to her, says I, and I shouldn't wonder if she liked him too. She's good enough for a minister's lady, anyhow, says I.'

'Oh, Mrs. Jones! how could you say such things to a stranger, or to any one!' exclaimed Miss Linda looking really distressed. 'What must the man have thought?'

'Oh, you know I must talk when I get started,' said Mrs. Jones, 'and I don't suppose he thought anything about it. He started pretty soon after that and I thought he was going to visit your school, for he went straight toward it.'

The remembrance of the man who had frightened little Lily rushed across my mind, and I turned my steps homeward after bidding good-bye to Miss Linda, who kissed me with a very, very grave face. 'Who could that man with a black beard be?' as I tripped along. 'Why did he frighten Lily, and why did he ask questions about our school and Miss Linda?' the old fairy tales I had conned on winter evenings arose in my mind and I thought of the ogre and the giants, who had black beards and had the propensity to devour little girls and carry young ladies away by their hair. What hair must Miss Linda have for that purpose! How a giant would rejoice in those great golden waves!' I thought, and just then raised my eyes and to my horror they encountered the very person of whom I had been dreaming—the tall man with the long black beard himself. I uttered a scream of terror, and the tall man put his hand on my shoulder.

'Don't be frightened, little one,' he said, 'I am very fond of little girls.'

'Does he mean he likes to eat them?' I thought; and I looked up into his face, expecting to meet a sardonic ogre grin, but instead I encountered such a sweet smile that I gained confidence in a moment, and stood quietly beside him.

'Sit down here,' said the stranger 'I want to talk to you. Look, here is something nice,' and he drew a handful of confectionery from his pocket. 'Eat it while I talk to you.'

'I held my little pinafore to receive the gift and sat down, and the man with the black beard sat down beside me.

'And where do you go to school?' he asked.

'On the hill, at Miss Linda's,' I answered.

'Have you a nice teacher? Do you love her?' inquired the stranger.

'Very much,' I answered; 'very much, indeed.'

And, to my great amazement, the gentleman with the dark beard covered his face with his hands and ejaculated: 'God bless her! who could help it? Do you think she is happy?' he went on. 'Does she smile and laugh, or does she ever feel sad?—tell me, little one?'

'I think Miss Linda is very happy,' I answered. 'I never saw her cry.'

The tall gentleman arose and paced to and fro, and I heard him mutter: 'Happy! Is she happy? My selfishness shall never break in upon her quiet; I will never arouse the sleeping past to grieve the happy present.'

The heart under my little pinafore beat wildly with alarm, and my confectionery was forgotten. In a few moments he turned toward me.

'Good-bye, little one!' he said. 'Run home now, and never tell your teacher that I have been talking about her; and you would never do that, I know.'

I gave a ready promise and ran joyfully away; and as the weeks passed by, and I saw no more of the gentleman with the black beard, I soon almost forgot that such a being existed. And still 'our minister' visited the school and looked at the teacher, and still the gossiping tongues of the village foretold that Miss Linda would be the minister's lady yet.

One day—a bright, cool autumn afternoon, it was—Miss Linda and I were alone in the school-house. I was practicing the scale on a piano in the inner room—for it was the day on which I always took my music lesson, and Miss Linda was writing at her desk in the outer room. There was no sound save the monotonous 'One, two, three,' which I uttered, until a quick step fell upon the grass without, and, raising my eyes, I saw the young minister pass the window and enter the school-room. He had scarcely done so, when another shadow fell upon my music book, and I saw the tall gentleman with the black beard glide after him and stand motionless in the shadow of the school-house porch. I played on still, but very softly, and my eyes were turned toward the other room. The young minister and Miss Linda stood in the center of the apartment, and he was speaking passionately, but softly. Then he strove to clasp her hand in his, but she drew it away and stood further from him, nearer to the doorway. Then I heard his voice—husky it was and tremulous.

'Linda, dear Linda!' he said, 'you can never tell how much I love you. You do wrong to doubt me. My existence is worthless without your affection. Do not deny me all hope; let me think, at least, that in time my deep love may win your own; that, when you see how constant and devoted my heart is to you, you will think well of me for that constancy at least. Many a better and greater may woo you, Linda, but none can love more truly.'

I could see great tears in her eyes as she answered him.

'Do not misunderstand me, Mr. Alwyn. I do think well of you. As a sister, I may even say that I love you; but other love than that of a sister, Linda Harrington can never give to living man. I—I have loved once, and he to whom I was betrothed sleeps beneath the waves, or is a wanderer upon the face of the earth. Living or dead, he is lost to me forever; but a woman gives her love but once, and mine is his still, Mr. Alwyn. Leave me, I beseech you! Time can never change my feelings, and I am glad it cannot.'

He took her hand and pressed it to his lips, and in another moment he was gone. Miss Linda sunk upon the seat from which she had arisen; the tears were trickling down her cheeks, and her bosom rose and fell convulsively. Over her dress, over the floor, fell a shadow, creeping slowly along up the white-washed wall of the school-house, and while I watched it the tall man with the black beard stood on the threshold—stood there with both his arms stretched toward her, until she turned, and, looking on him, cried, 'William! Oh, my William!' and fell upon his bosom.

At first I had imagined that the black-bearded gentleman was about to devour Miss Linda, or carry her away to his enchanted castle: but when she called him William, the truth dawned upon my mind, and I listened quietly, when, some moments afterward, he knelt beside her and spoke thus:

'I have been near you many weeks, darling—I have watched you to and from the school; and, though I never dreamed you could still love me, I have loved you every moment since we parted. When I left you I hoped to return to you soon happy and prosperous, but, baffled and disappointed, I could not bear to bring my poverty and grief for you to share, and I battled with the world, weary and broken-hearted, until I began to doubt all truth and goodness, and believed that no woman could welcome back a toil-worn, beggared man as she would the one who was glad and prosperous.

Better days dawned upon me, and I came back again, loving you still to woo and to win you, if you could forgive my long and shameful silence. The first news I heard, darling, was that you were betrothed to another, and, though it almost broke my heart, I vowed that if this were true, I would not mar your new-found happiness by bringing back the memory of the past. Had you loved him, Linda, you never should have known that Will Brace dwelt among living men, although he would have prayed for your happiness while he had a heart to pray with, and blessed you until his lips were dumb forever.'

There was another pause, and I could hear her sob.

'To-day, Linda, I followed my rival, as I thought him, to this door; I heard the words he spoke, and I also heard your answer. I learned, my angel, that you had forgiven me, that you were still true to the wanderer whose only merit was that he loved you fondly, and no words can tell you the ecstasy of that moment, the balm that knowledge poured upon my wounded heart. Will you be my wife still, Linda? Will you share the little that I have of wealth, and let me have a right to the great treasure of your woman's heart?'

She did not speak, but her head sunk lower still, and her white arms twined themselves tenderly about the bronzed neck of the man with the black beard.

A week later the village paper reported the marriage of Miss Linda Harrington and Mr. William Brace, and our school was without a mistress.