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When the Family assembled for supper, however, the fellow
was unaccountably missing; but the Shakers, having seen so
much of his erratic movements, and supposing him still to be
somewhere about the farm or buildings, did not seem to pay
much attention to the circumstance, or think it worth their while
to institute any search for him; and their evening meal, through
all the different departments of the Family, passed off with customary
quietness.

After finishing their repast, as usual the whole Family, just as
the stars were beginning to twinkle in the clear blue of the November's
sky, took their way to the house of worship, which was
an unenclosed building opening to the road, a branch of which
turned up and ran directly by the doors. The ceremonies of
worship, also, were attended with no unusual occurrence, and,
being concluded the assembly broke up to return to their respective
lodges. But on opening the doors and coming out on the
steps, the foremost of the company, to their surprise, beheld a
horse and chaise drawn up within a few yards of the door allotted
to the use of the females, the door for the males being some
thirty feet towards the other end of the house. By the side of
the horse a man, young and neatly dressed, as far as his appearance
could be judged of by star-light, stood holding the reins and
whip, with his face turned towards the door, and in the seeming
attitude of waiting. The women came hesitating down the steps,
and there coming to a stand, began timidly and silently to stretch
forward their heads and peer at the mysterious stranger. The
men, also, coming out and seeing the unexpected visitant and his
equipage stationed across the path of the women, began, with
low-whispered enquiries of one another, to gather towards the
spot. In this stage of the affair, Elder Higgins, who had purposed
to remain in the house till all had retired, that he might

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pass unobserved to the room where he was expecting the next
moment to meet the victim of his designs, became impatient at
the tardy movement of the people, and came bustling through the
throng, with a light in his hand, to ascertain the cause of the delay;
when the stranger turned suddenly round and confronted
him. The instant the light struck upon the face of the latter, the
recoiling Elder uttered a convulsive shriek, and, with wildly glaring
eyes and chattering teeth, sunk down upon the ground in
horror and affright at the apparition which he believed he had
beheld. A commotion was now observed among the huddling
and startled females, and, the next moment a light figure rapidly
made her way to the front of the crowd.

“It is!” she exclaimed in low, eager accents, after a momentary
pause, “it is—oh! it is he!” she repeated, and, springing
forward, threw herself into the arms of the stranger, who, lightly
swinging her into the seat of his vehicle, turned again towards
the crowd.

“Viper!” he exclaimed, advancing with brandished fist close
to the appalled and nearly prostrate Elder; “viper, thou art baffled!”

With this he turned quickly about, leaped nimbly into his seat
by the side of the fair companion he had just placed there, applied
the whip to his horse, and dashed forward for the main
road, leaving the whole assembled Family of Shakers standing
aghast and bewildered with astonishment and perplexity at what
had so suddenly and inexplicably passed before them.

As dreadfully frightened as the guilt-smitten Elder had been,
yet he was the first to comprehend the mystery and rally for the
rescue.

“The fiend!” he fiercely cried, leaping up and pointing with
frantic gestures after the departing carriage, “Oh, the fiend!—
the apostate—the reprobate, the Godless reprobate is carrying
off Martha! Pursue him! stop him! catch him! save her from
the villain! Run! run for your lives, or they will escape us!”

Roused by the commands and the eager and furious manner
of their leader, the men, followed by the women, rushed

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promiscuously down the road in pursuit of the fugitives; but scarcely
had they passed the line of the buildings in this disorderly rout,
and gained the main road where it became enclosed by fences,
when a rope suddenly sprang from the dust across the path
against the legs or uplifted feet of the foremost rank of the pursuers;
and the next instant a platoon of Shakers were rolling
and sprawling on the ground, while those in the rear, unable to
check their speed in time to save themselves, came, rank after
rank, successively tumbling and floundering down at the backs
of their fallen companions, till nearly the whole bevy were prostrate
and scrambling on all fours in the road.

At this juncture the wild, rattling laugh of the missing vagabond
was heard behind the stone fence over against one end of
the mischief-making spring rope; and, the next instant a gaily
dressed young man leaped lightly over the fence into the road,
and made a brief pause a few paces ahead of the fallen and confused
forces of the pursuing enemy.

“May be, friends,” he said in a half jovial, half commisserating
tone, as he glanced at the disorderly plight of his recent entertainers,
“may be you don't know me with my Sunday clothes
on?—Well, well, good people, perhaps it is indeed rather a provoking
case for you; but here is about twenty yards of good
new rope, which I will leave you, by way of amends for your
hospitality this afternoon, and your tumble this evening. It is
the best I can do for you now, I believe; though if you should
ever cage another such rare bird, as the one just flown yonder,
and should be in want of more rope—but I can't stay to chat
now—so good bye, thee and thou, good bye to ye!”

So saying, and leaving the discomfitted Shakers to gather themselves
up in the best way they could, he bounded forwards, a few
rods, leaped upon a horse, which stood tied in a nook in the
fence, and galloped off after the receding carriage, now rattling
away in the distance.

“And what then? I asked, perceiving that the narrator had

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come to a stand, with the air of one who had arrived at the end
of his story—“what then—what next happened?”

“Why, nothing very unnatural, I believe,” replied my host,
with a humorous smile, “unless you make out to the contrary
from the fact, that an old Justice of the Peace, living some eight
or ten miles from the scene of action, was called up that night
to do a little business in the marrying line.”

“And the bride on the occasion?”—I asked, somewhat puzzled
to comprehend the development, “the bride was your heroine,
Martha, of course; but the bridegroom?—Not Seth, surely,
for he was drowned you know.”

“Perhaps, friend,” answered my host, with waggish gravity,
“perhaps he was not drowned as much as some, after all; but,
rising to the surface, after his unlucky plunge, and seeing the
wicked attitude of the Elder, suddenly changed his plan, and, so
sinking under again, with some little show of drowning, and with
a kick or two to make the bubbles rise, came up silently under a
neighboring clump of bushes—crept away with the loss of his
shoe and broad-brim—went to a young farmer of his acquaintance—
exchanged his wet Quaker gear for a decent suit of
clothes, and set off for the residence of his late uncle, where
he arrived the next day, and, to his agreeable surprise, found
himself in possession of one of the best little farms on the Merrimac,
and where, in due time, he, in conjunction with a new
made young friend there, concocted the plan which you have seen
executed.”

“A romantic coming out, upon my soul!” I exclaimed in delight;
“Well, then, you knew the parties?—are they still alive?”

“Ay.”

“Do they reside in this vicinity?”

“Ay again.”

“Why, I would go almost any distance to see them.”

“You would have no very serious journey to perform for that
purpose, Sir,” he replied significantly.

“Why?—How?” I asked, still in doubt respecting the full
development.

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“Why, verily, my friend,” said my host, casting an arch look
at my perplexed countenance, and speaking in the Quaker dialect,
“verily thee art not so shrewd a guesser as I had supposed
thee, else thee had smelt the rat long ago.”

“Stupid!” I cried, “stupid indeed! But I see it all now—
the hero, Seth, is here before me, and the heroine, the good
Martha”—

“Run away,” he interrupted, laughingly, “run away, as you
might have noticed, perhaps, at the beginning of the description,
by which she was introduced, as we went on with the story; but
the hero, being more modestly described, made out to stand the
racket without running.”

“One more question only,” said I;—“the young friend who, in
the character of a vagabond, took your letter to Martha, and so
finely managed the affair”—

“Was also from this neighborhood,” he replied—“you noticed,
perhaps, as you came along, a mile or two back, a two story white
house, with an office in the yard?”

“I did—thinking it a very neat establishment,” I answered.

“Well, Sir, he rejoined, “that is the—though, perhaps,
Esquire Wentworth would not thank me for telling of his pranks
when he first started life as a lawyer. It was the making of the
man, however;—people seeing how cleverly he had managed a
love case, concluded he would be no slouch at a law case, if he
had one.—He rose rapidly after that. But enough of this. Seth
and Martha, my children!” he continued, calling to his eldest boy
and girl, still up and reading in the kitchen;—“one of you take
a mug and the other a candle, and go down and draw us a mug
of the best cider in the cellar.—This Shaker story has made my
throat as dry as a tin trumpet.”

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