The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1855-08-09
the power. It's asgood sign they've come

addresses her, which he does presently, in calm
at amt O. no nknner O. use,p he says, ,amy
beatin' about the bush to say at last what l
ought to ha said at first, Miss Wray. The real
truth is, find it 'ud be better for me, worlds
better, to go away-fur, fur away, where |
can't see you no more, than to stay where you
are; to be alers near by you; to be speaking
to you like you don't let no one else speak to
you, and yet to feel that I'm further off from
you than if l were FIVE thousand miles away. ]
must put sea and land atween us, Miss Wray.
This is what l had on my mind to say to you,
and, now I've said it, you knows all feels, and
the sooner / sets off on my journey the better.
Mildred remains. with her head dropping on her
bosom, her hands folded across in her lap,
listening even when he has done speaking
But he says no more. She looks up at him
her eyes suffused with tears, and, in her low,
tender voice, asks if he has anything further to
say.
"Consarnin' Of ssho?" he inquiries.
YOURSELF Zacht Yourself and me-"
"Oh, yes, yes" rsioins he. "More than 'ud
go in a book, Miss Wray" -
"You used to cali me Mildred; often Milly,'
she remarks.
ain times long gone by, yes" he replies, in
a choking tone.
"Not SO long since, ZACH" resumes she
"'Twas but few weeks-nay, it is scarcely a
week ago-that you called me by both, as you
used in the times you speak Of"
~ wants to forget them Miss Wray," he
says, still in tremulous voice.
"To forget them and us, Zach?" she asks,
somewhat reproachfdlly.
"Well, not 'xactly; but to think on 'em on y
as few times as 1 can help. To think on em
only when / can't help it, and that'll be jest
alers when I'm alone. There's too much in
'em for me to forget 'em easy. And, as to for
gettin' O. you, Miss Wray-but no; l won't
talk: I'd better to go"-
"You must stay, Zach," she says; "and you
must talk to me. You must tell me all you
wish to say-all you wish that should know
and you mustn't call me Miss Wray, but Mil
dred, or Milly if you like, as you used to do"
She speaks with perfect frankness, and looks
at him so kindly, so kindly, that for some mo-
ments he cannot address her. 1t is painful to
witness his attempts to control his feelings. AT
length, he says:
"No, no I've done with that, Miss Wray.
Your words are kind, know, and they makes
up to me now for good deal that's been bitter
in the past. i know'd, when l come to speak to
you, that | should make a fool of myself, but
couldn't ha' gone away without letting you
know more perhaps than you thought on, and
perhaps more than I'd right to tell you"
81 would have you speak with even more
freedom, ZACH" she observes. Save Leonard,
l have no friend but you"
"To tell you all 2" he exclaims. "All that
lies here?D striking his heart. "All that's been
hid away so many years? Tell you ALP"
"kll Everything" she says.
"Milly-Miss Wray, do you mean it?" he
asks.
~ do, Zach" is her reply. "And you must
keep nothing from me-"
Zach's countenance brightens; he draws a
deep breath, and, advancing his chair a pace
or two, again addressed her-this time more
calmly, and with the air of one whose mind is
greatly relieved
"You're twenty some, now, Mildred" he
says, I" and Pm drawing on to three times ten
It's more than five years ago since first seen
you, when you came across me like bright
streak of sunlight in a dark path. Your father
kinder liked me, and so long as he was alive
knowed whar to go to for a friend; for my
spec'latin's didn't alers turn out well; and to
tell the truth, | want what folks calls steady
and that made 'em turn out wusser. When
seen you, got flash o. Gghtnin' in my soul
/ couldn't abide myself when l looked inside
like, and l made up my mind to try and mend
did try, too, but that spec lation didn't turn
out no better than the others, and got tired o
irwin, specially when l come to think what q
fool was to hope ever to be anything to you
Except Zachariah Grit, the wild, harum -scarum
fellow, that everybody liked, cause he was good
natured, and yet that nobody had a good word
for, or cared much about, cause he hadn't got
anybody to care for"
He pauses, looking at her, as she sits, with
eyes cast down, listening.
ayes. Mildred. That's it." he resumes, pres
emily. "Nobody to care for. Many mans
lost, and many woman too, through not hav
ing somebody to care for, to cling to, and tc
love, and to fight for. Some naturs don't want
it, but they're bad naturs. Mine want O. that
sort, but somehow | couldn't find the right sort
O. man or woman to cling to, till | know'd
Leonard and seen you. Then / seemed to ha
found a new life. You remembers how fol
Tered Leonard everywhar; and maybe, Mildred
you don't forget how often you and he and
walked out in the old woods, talking bout what
we dusn't breathe a word about nowhars else
~ remember, Zach," she says, much moved
I" 1t was before we knew / was not what seem
ed to'be."
"Pm on'y speakin' of the time, Milly-ii
amt O. no use, it will come "-he alluded to his
familiar mode of addressing her. I" on'y men
tons the time, to let you understand how long
I've been looking up to you. Hows'ever, the
more / seen O. you, the more l felt | couldn't
never rise to you; and when poor Ned Wilmot
slept in atween us, / felt how low down l was
and, though my heart was near to breakin',
gave up hoping"
He pauses. The mention of the young mans
name has called up painful "reminiscences, and
awakened feelings that lay dormant. She has
Hor 20 in bar nd ~ .
Zach waits, ere he resumes, until the paroxysm
of grief has somewhat subsidized. He then ad
dresses her in lower tone:
AZ shouldn't ha' mentioned his name, Mil
dred," he says. ~ ask your pardon humbly
"You could not but speak Of him, Zach, y
she responds, interrupting him.
81 loved him, Milly," he continues, "'cause
/ know'd he loved you; and if / could ha' saved
him on that dreadful night, would ha' done it.
But | needn't to dwell on what passed there
and after nor much on what has passed since.
Marks gone to his account, and on'y hope
God III be more merciful to him, Milly, than he
ever was to them as he sent sudden into eter-
nifty"
There is pause, for Zach speaks with all
the solemnity of true feeling on so awful sub
iect, nor resumes until Mildred appears to have
recovered her composure.
"Not to make long story of what consarns
me, Milly," he says, presently, az couldn't help
loving you, but it was long way off. The
more know d of you, the more seen of you, the
stronger my love crowd, and the more sartan
/ felt couldn't never hope you'd look on me
but as stranger; leastways, on'y as a friend,
who had tried, in his poor way, to show he
know'd what friendship meant. Want right,
Milly?"
"Go, on Zach," is her reply; ~ shall hear
you to an end"
"Well, amt got much more to say" he