Pete suddenly began catching moths with exemplary industry.
In putting one into the bag, another escaped.
"We must not try that again," said Mrs. Comstock.
"Now, what will we do?"
"We are close to the old case," said Pete. "I think
I can get into it. Maybe we could slip the rest in there."
"That's a fine idea!" said Mrs. Comstock. "They'll have
so much room there they won't be likely to hurt
themselves, and the books say they don't fly in daytime
unless they are disturbed, so they will settle when it's
light, and I can come with Elnora to get them."
They captured two more, and then Pete carried them
to the case.
"Here comes a big one!" he cried as he returned.
Mrs. Comstock looked up and stepped out with a prayer
on her lips. She could not tell the colour at that
distance, but the moth appeared different from the others.
On it came, dropping lower and darting from light to light.
As it swept near her, "O Heavenly Father!" exulted Mrs.
Comstock, "it's yellow! Careful Pete! Your hat, maybe!"
Pete made a long sweep. The moth wavered above
the hat and sailed away. Mrs. Comstock leaned against
a tree and covered her face with her shaking hands.
"That is my punishment!" she cried. "Oh, Lord, if
you will give a moth like that into my possession, I'll
always be a better woman!"
The Emperor again came in sight. Pete stood tense
and ready. Mrs. Comstock stepped into the light and
watched the moth's course. Then a second appeared
in
pursuit of the first. The larger one wavered into
the
radius of light once more. The perspiration rolled
down the man's face. He half lifted the hat.
"Pray, woman! Pray now!" he panted.
"I guess I best get over by that lard oil light and go
to work," breathed Mrs. Comstock. "The Lord knows
this is all in prayer, but it's no time for words just now.
Ready, Pete! You are going to get a chance first!"
Pete made another long, steady sweep, but the moth
darted beneath the hat. In its
flight it came straight
toward Mrs. Comstock. She snatched off the remnant
of apron she had tucked into her
petticoat band and
held the
calico before her. The moth struck full against
it and clung to the goods. Pete crept up stealthily.
The second moth followed the first, and the spray
showered the apron.
"Wait!" gasped Mrs. Comstock. "I think they have settled.
The books say they won't leave now."
The big pale yellow creature clung
firmly, lowering
and raising its wings. The other came nearer. Mrs.
Comstock held the cloth with rigid hands, while Pete
could hear her breathing in short gusts.
"Shall I try now?" he implored.
"Wait!" whispered the woman. "Something seems to
say wait!"
The night
breeze stiffened and
gently waved the apron.
Locusts rasped,
mosquitoes hummed and frogs sang uninterruptedly.
A musky odour slowly filled the air.
"Now shall I?" questioned Pete.
"No. Leave them alone. They are safe now. They are mine.
They are my
salvation. God and the Limberlost gave them
to me! They won't move for hours. The books all say so.
O Heavenly Father, I am
thankful to You, and you, too,
Pete Corson! You are a good man to help me. Now, I can
go home and face my girl."
Instead, Mrs. Comstock dropped suddenly. She spread
the apron across her knees. The moths remained undisturbed.
Then her tired white head dropped, the tears she had thought
forever dried gushed forth, and she sobbed for pure joy.
"Oh, I wouldn't do that now, you know!" comforted Pete.
"Think of getting two! That's more than you ever could
have expected. A body would think you would cry, if you
hadn't got any. Come on, now. It's almost morning.
Let me help you home."
Pete took the bag and the two old
lanterns. Mrs. Comstock
carried her moths and the best
lantern and went ahead to
light the way.
Elnora had sat beside her window far into the night.
At last she undressed and went to bed, but sleep would
not come. She had gone to the city to talk with members of
the School Board about a room in the grades. There was
a
possibility that she might secure the moth, and so be able
to start to college that fall, but if she did not, then she
wanted the school. She had been given some encouragement,
but she was so
unhappy that nothing mattered. She could
not see the way open to anything in life, save a long
series of disappointments, while she remained with
her mother. Yet Margaret Sinton had advised her to go
home and try once more. Margaret had seemed so sure
there would be a change for the better, that Elnora had
consented, although she had no hope herself. So strong is
the bond of blood, she could not make up her mind to seek
a home
elsewhere, even after the day that had passed.
Unable to sleep she arose at last, and the room being warm,
she sat on the floor close the window. The lights in the
swamp caught her eye. She was very
uneasy, for quite a
hundred of her best moths were in the case. However, there
was no money, and no one ever had touched a book or any
of her
apparatus. Watching the lights set her thinking,
and before she realized it, she was in a panic of fear.
She
hurried down the
stairwaysoftlycalling her mother.
There was no answer. She
lightly stepped across the
sitting-room and looked in at the open door. There was
no one, and the bed had not been used. Her first thought
was that her mother had gone to the pool; and the Limberlost
was alive with signals. Pity and fear mingled in the
heart of the girl. She opened the kitchen door, crossed the
garden and ran back to the swamp. As she neared it she
listened, but she could hear only the usual voices of night.
"Mother!" she called
softly. Then louder, "Mother!"
There was not a sound. Chilled with
fright she
hurriedback to the cabin. She did not know what to do.
She understood what the lights in the Limberlost meant.
Where was her mother? She was afraid to enter, while
she was growing very cold and still more
fearful about
remaining outside. At last she went to her mother's room,
picked up the gun, carried it into the kitchen, and crowding
in a little corner behind the stove, she waited in trembling
anxiety. The time was
dreadfully long before she heard
her mother's voice. Then she
decided some one had been
ill and sent for her, so she took courage, and stepping
swiftly across the kitchen she unbarred the door and drew
back from sight beside the table.
Mrs. Comstock entered dragging her heavy feet. Her dress
skirt was gone, her
petticoat wet and drabbled, and
the waist of her dress was almost torn from her body.
Her hair hung in damp strings; her eyes were red with crying.
In one hand she held the
lantern, and in the other stiffly
extended before her, on a wad of
calico reposed a
magnificent pair of Yellow Emperors. Elnora stared, her
lips parted.
"Shall I put these others in the kitchen?" inquired a
man's voice.
The girl
shrank back to the shadows.
"Yes,
anywhere inside the door," replied Mrs. Comstock
as she moved a few steps to make way for him.
Pete's head appeared. He set down the moths and was gone.
"Thank you, Pete, more than ever woman thanked you before!"
said Mrs. Comstock.
She placed the
lantern on the table and barred the door.
As she turned Elnora came into view. Mrs. Comstock
leaned toward her, and held out the moths. In a voice
vibrant with tones never before heard she said: "Elnora,
my girl, mother's found you another moth!"
CHAPTER XIII
WHEREIN MOTHER LOVE IS BESTOWED ON ELNORA,
AND SHE FINDS AN ASSISTANT IN MOTH HUNTING
Elnora awoke at dawn and lay gazing around the
unfamiliar room. She noticed that every vestige
of
masculineattire and
belongings was gone, and
knew, without any
explanation, what that meant.
For some reason every tangible evidence of her father
was banished, and she was at last to be allowed to
take his place. She turned to look at her mother.
Mrs. Comstock's face was white and
haggard, but on it
rested an expression of
profound peace Elnora never
before had seen. As she
studied the features on the
pillow beside her, the heart of the girl throbbed in tenderness.
She realized as fully as any one else could what her mother
had suffered. Thoughts of the night brought shuddering fear.
She
softly slipped from the bed, went to her room, dressed and
entered the kitchen to attend the Emperors and prepare breakfast.
The pair had been left clinging to the piece of
calico.
The
calico was there and a few pieces of beautiful wing.
A mouse had eaten the moths!
"Well, of all the
horrible luck!" gasped Elnora.
With the first thought of her mother, she caught up the
remnants of the moths, burying them in the ashes of the stove.
She took the bag to her room,
hurriedly releasing its
contents, but there was not another yellow one. Her mother
had said some had been confined in the case in the Limberlost.
There was still a hope that an Emperor might be among them.
She peeped at her mother, who still slept soundly.
Elnora took a large piece of
mosquito netting, and ran
to the swamp. Throwing it over the top of the case, she
unlocked the door. She reeled, faint with distress.
The living moths that had been confined there in their
fluttering to escape to night and the mates they sought
not only had wrecked the other specimens of the case,
but torn themselves to fringes on the pins. A third of the
rarest moths of the
collection for the man of India were
antennaless, legless, wingless, and often headless.
Elnora sobbed aloud.
"This is overwhelming," she said at last. "It is making
a fatalist of me. I am
beginning to think things
happen as they are ordained from the
beginning, this
plainly indicating that there is to be no college, at least,
this year, for me. My life is all mountain-top or canon.
I wish some one would lead me into a few days of `green pastures.'
Last night I went to sleep on mother's arm, the moths all
secured, love and college, certainties. This morning I wake
to find all my hopes wrecked. I simply don't dare let mother
know that instead of helping me, she has ruined my
collection.
Everything is gone--unless the love lasts. That actually
seemed true. I believe I will go see."
The love remained. Indeed, in the
overflow of the long-
hardened, pent-up heart, the girl was almost suffocated
with tempestuous caresses and
generous offerings. Before the
day was over, Elnora realized that she never had known
her mother. The woman who now
busily went through the
cabin, her eyes bright, eager, alert,
constantly planning,
was a stranger. Her very face was different, while it did