24 chapters
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24 chapters
THE TOWN OF DARK NIGHTS.
THE TOWN OF DARK NIGHTS.
Davy's Bend—a river town, a failing town, and an old town, on a dark night, with a misty rain falling, and the stars hiding from the dangerous streets and walks of the failing town down by the sluggish river which seems to be hurrying away from it, too, like its institutions and its people, and as the light of the wretched day that has just closed hurried away from it a few hours since. The darkness is so intense that the people who look out of their windows are oppressed from staring at nothing
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THE LOCKS.
THE LOCKS.
From the southern windows of The Locks, Allan Dorris looked with curious interest the day after his arrival, and the week and the month following, for he remained there for that length of time without going out, except to walk along the country roads for exercise, where he occasionally met wagons containing men who cursed the town they were leaving for its dullness. The dwellings of Davy's Bend were built upon hills sloping toward the little valley where the business houses were, and which poure
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THE FACE AT THE WINDOW.
THE FACE AT THE WINDOW.
Allan Dorris sleeps on, unconscious of the darkness peering in at him from the outside, which is also running riot in the town, and particularly down by the river, where the crazy houses with their boarded windows seem to collect shadows during the day for use at night, robbing the sunlight for the purpose; for there is little brightness and warmth at Davy's Bend, but much of dampness and hazy atmosphere. There is light and life down this way; a light in the window of the wretched house occupied
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DAVY'S BEND.
DAVY'S BEND.
It was generally agreed among the people of Davy's Bend—a thousand in number, the census said; six hundred they said themselves, for they changed the rule, and exaggerated their own situation unfavorably—that the town possessed more natural advantages than any other in the world. They demonstrated this with great cleverness, by means of maps drawn on brown wrapping-paper inside of the stores, and, after looking at their maps, they triumphantly exclaimed, with a whack of their fists on the counte
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A TROUBLED FANCY.
A TROUBLED FANCY.
It was Annie Benton's playing which Allan Dorris occasionally heard as he wandered about the yard of The Locks, for she came to the church twice a week in order that she might pretend to practise on Sunday afternoons, and please her father's critical ear with finished playing; and Dorris was so much impressed with the excellence of the music that he concluded one afternoon to look at the performer. In a stained-glass window looking toward The Locks there was a broken square, little larger than h
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PICTURES IN THE FIRE.
PICTURES IN THE FIRE.
Allan Dorris was seeing pleasant pictures in the cheerful fire which burned in his room, for he watched it intently from early evening until dusk, and until after the night came on. The look of discontent that had distinguished his face was absent for the first time since he had occupied the strange old house. Perhaps a cheerful man may see pleasant pictures in a fire which produces only tragedies for one who is sad; for it is certain that Allan Dorris had watched the same fire before, and curse
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THE LOCKS' GHOST.
THE LOCKS' GHOST.
There was general curiosity in Davy's Bend with reference to the new occupant of The Locks, and when the people had exhausted themselves in denouncing their own town more than it deserved, and in praising Ben's City more than it deserved, they began on Allan Dorris, and made him the subject of their gossip. Whoever was bold enough to invent new theories with reference to him, and express them, was sure of a welcome at any of the houses where the speculation concerning his previous history went o
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A REMARKABLE GIRL.
A REMARKABLE GIRL.
Annie Benton had said that she usually practised once a week in the church; and during the lonely days after his first meeting with her, Allan Dorris began to wonder when he should see her again. The sight of her, and the sound of her voice, and her magic music, had afforded him a strange pleasure, and he thought about her so much that his mind experienced relief from the thoughts that had made him restless and ill at ease. But he heard nothing of her, except from Mrs. Wedge, who was as loud in
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THE "APRON AND PASSWORD."
THE "APRON AND PASSWORD."
The guests at the hotel, with their dull wit and small gossip, had disappeared, and the proprietor was seated at the long table in the dining-room, eating his supper, with no companion save Silas Davy, the patient man-of-all-work. A queer case, the proprietor. Instead of being useful to the hotel, as would naturally be expected, he was a detriment to it, for he did not even come to his meals when they were ready, making a special table necessary three times a day, greatly to the disgust of Mrs.
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TUG WHITTLE'S BOOTY.
TUG WHITTLE'S BOOTY.
After resting a while, and looking carefully around to make sure that they were not watched, Tug and Silas crawled cautiously back to the bank which overlooked the boat and its singular occupant, and after warning his companion to remain where he was by shaking his hand at him like a club, Tug began to climb down the bank, feeling every step as he went with the cunning stealth of a tiger. Gradually he worked his way to the water's edge; so careful was he, that even Silas, watching him with breat
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THE WHISPERS IN THE AIR.
THE WHISPERS IN THE AIR.
There is a wide and populous world outside of Davy's Bend, from which Allan Dorris recently came; let the whispers in the air, which frighten every man with their secrets, answer why he had resolved never again to see Annie Benton. During his residence in Davy's Bend he had met the girl frequently, usually at the stone church near his house, where she came to practise; and after every meeting he became more than ever convinced, after thinking about it,—and he thought about it a great deal,—that
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RUINED BY KINDNESS.
RUINED BY KINDNESS.
John Bill, editor of the Davy's Bend Triumph , was ruined by a railroad pass. When he taught school over in the bottoms, on the other side of the river, and was compelled to pay his fare when he travelled, he seldom travelled, and therefore put his money carefully away, but when he invested his savings in the Triumph , and the railroad company sent him an annual pass, he made up for lost time, and travelled up and down the road almost constantly, all his earnings being required to pay his expens
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THE REBELLION OF THE BARITONE.
THE REBELLION OF THE BARITONE.
During the summer and winter following the arrival of Allan Dorris in Davy's Bend, he met Annie Benton at intervals after their strange meeting out on the hills, in spite of his resolution to keep out of her way, and though he was convinced more than ever after each meeting that their acquaintance was dangerous, he candidly admitted to himself that he was powerless to resist the temptation to see her when opportunity offered, for the girl waited as anxiously for his appearance as he did for hers
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THE ANCIENT MAIDEN.
THE ANCIENT MAIDEN.
Jane Benton, old Thompson's maiden sister, was as good as anybody, though no one urged the point as steadily as she did herself. Had the President walked into Jane Benton's presence, she would have believed that he had heard of her (although there was no reason that she should entertain that opinion) and had called to pay his respects; and instead of being timid in so great a presence, she would have expected him to be timid in hers. There were people who cared to distinguish themselves: very we
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A SHOT AT THE SHADOW.
A SHOT AT THE SHADOW.
The regular patronage of the "Apron and Password," like the attendance at a theatre when reported by a friendly critic, was small, but exceedingly respectable. A gentleman of uncertain age who answered to the name of Ponsonboy, and who professed to be a lawyer, usually occupied the head of the one long table which staggered on its feet in the dingy dining-room, and when his place was taken by a stranger, which happened innocently enough occasionally, Ponsonboy frowned so desperately that his com
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THE STEP ON THE STAIR.
THE STEP ON THE STAIR.
There had been two days of rain already, and Allan Dorris sat in his lonely room at ten o'clock at night, listening to its ceaseless patter at the windows, and on the roof, and its dripping from the eaves, thinking that when the sun came out again he would go away and leave it, and remove to a place which would always be in the shadow. Davy's Bend was noted for its murky weather, and the nights were surely darker there than elsewhere; but he felt that after his departure he would think of the su
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THE PURSUING SHADOW.
THE PURSUING SHADOW.
Allan Dorris and his wife had been up in the hills watching the sunset, and at dusk were returning leisurely home. They were very fond of the unfrequented locality where he had first declared his passion, and when the weather was fine they frequently visited it to imagine themselves lovers again, which was easy enough, for as man and wife they got along amazingly well. And now, when they were returning at nightfall, a shadow crept after them; from bush to rock, and from tree to shrub, crawling a
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THE RISE IN THE RIVER.
THE RISE IN THE RIVER.
The rain had been falling at intervals for weeks, and the sluggish river, which usually crawled at the foot of the town in quiet submission, had become a dangerous torrent. Long since out of its banks, its waters poured through the bottoms with an angry roar, and at night those who gathered on the brink in the town to mark its steady rising could hear cries of distress from the heavy timber, the firing of guns, and other alarms. For two days parties had been out with boats of every description,
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MR. WHITTLE MAKES A CONFESSION.
MR. WHITTLE MAKES A CONFESSION.
The first rays of the bad morning, as it looked in at Mr. Whittle's window, found that worthy busily engaged in cleaning and scouring his gun. It was not yet his bedtime, for of late he spent all of every night, instead of part of it, in prowling about—bent on mischief, he said, but Silas Davy knew that Tug had a fierce desire to protect Allan Dorris, for whom he had taken such a strange fancy, from harm; and that night after night, whether the weather was good or bad, his friend kept watch arou
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THE SEARCH IN THE WOODS.
THE SEARCH IN THE WOODS.
From noon until twilight Annie Dorris watched the point on the other shore of the river, where her husband had promised to wave the signal of his return long before nightfall, but nothing did she see save the floating debris of the flood, which looked like tired travellers hurrying forward to find a night's shelter. Great trees came floating down, with their arms outstretched as if for help, and occasionally these disappeared in the angry water, as human floaters might disappear after giving up
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LITTLE BEN.
LITTLE BEN.
In answer to a note requesting his presence at The Locks, Silas Davy hurried towards that part of the town as soon as he found relief from his duties at the hotel, regretting as he went along that Mr. Whittle was not ahead of him with his gun, for late events had not been of a cheerful nature, and he felt the need of better company than little Ben, who dragged his weary frame into the hotel kitchen a few minutes before Silas started. Not that Silas did not love the boy; nor had he any objection
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TUG'S RETURN.
TUG'S RETURN.
A month had passed since Allan Dorris was found floating over the mounds in Hedgepath graveyard, and the waters having gone down in the bottoms, the people were busy in rescuing their homes from the ooze and black mud beneath which they were buried. There had been so much destruction in the bottoms, and so much loss of trade in the town, that the people were all mourners like Annie Dorris and Silas Davy, and it did not seem probable that any of them would ever be cheerful again. Silas Davy was t
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THE GOING DOWN OF THE SUN.
THE GOING DOWN OF THE SUN.
Two years have passed since the great flood in the river, which is still told about with wonder by those who witnessed it, and Tug Whittle is now living in the detached building at The Locks, which was occupied so long by Mrs. Wedge, that worthy lady having long since taken a room in the main house. Little Ben, released from his hard work at Quade's, is growing steadily worse, in spite of the kindness shown him by Mrs. Dorris and Mrs. Wedge. A victim of too much work is little Ben; but he is as
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THE STORY OF A COUNTRY TOWN.
THE STORY OF A COUNTRY TOWN.
Howells pronounces it "this remarkable novel ... uncommonly interesting." Mark Twain finds the style "simple, sincere, direct, and at the same time so clear and so strong." The Springfield Republican finds in it "a distinct flavor of its own ... the freshness and strangeness of the prairie life." The Chicago Inter-Ocean finds it "the most dramatic of our American novels ... a drama of direct appeal." "There runs through the story a vein of pathos that is absolutely pitiful, and makes one think o
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