Betty Zane Zane Grey (desktop ebook reader TXT) 📖

of course, the unfortunate occurrence made that impossible. As I was to leave at dawn next day, I remained up all night, thinking what I ought to do. Finally I decided to write. I wrote her a letter, telling her all and begging her to become my wife. I gave the letter to your slave, Sam, and told him it was a matter of life and death, and not to lose the letter nor fail to give it to Betty. I have had no answer to that letter. Today she coldly ignored me. That is my story, Col. Zane.”

“Well, I don’t believe she got the letter,” said Col. Zane. “She has not acted like a young lady who has had the privilege of saying ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to you. And Sam never had any use for you. He disliked you from the first, and never failed to say something against you.”

“I’ll kill that d⁠⸺⁠n nigger if he did not deliver that letter,” said Clarke, jumping up in his excitement. “I never thought of that. Good Heaven! What could she have thought of me? She would think I had gone away without a word. If she knew I really loved her she could not think so terribly of me.”

“There is more to be explained, but I am satisfied with your side of it,” said Col. Zane. “Now I’ll go to Sam and see what has become of that letter. I am glad I am justified in thinking of you as I have. I imagine this thing has hurt you and I don’t wonder at it. Maybe we can untangle the problem yet. My advice would be⁠—but never mind that now. Anyway, I’m your friend in this matter. I’ll let you know the result of my talk with Sam.”

“I thought that young fellow was a gentleman,” mused Col. Zane as he crossed the green square and started up the hill toward the cabins. He found the old negro seated on his doorstep.

“Sam, what did you do with a letter Mr. Clarke gave you last October and instructed you to deliver to Betty?”

“I dun recollec’ no lettah, sah,” replied Sam.

“Now, Sam, don’t lie about it. Clarke has just told me that he gave you the letter. What did you do with it?”

“Masse Zane, I ain dun seen no lettah,” answered the old darkey, taking a dingy pipe from his mouth and rolling his eyes at his master.

“If you lie again I will punish you,” said Col. Zane sternly. “You are getting old, Sam, and I would not like to whip you, but I will if you do not find that letter.”

Sam grumbled, and shuffled inside the cabin. Col. Zane heard him rummaging around. Presently he came back to the door and handed a very badly soiled paper to the Colonel.

“What possessed you to do this, Sam? You have always been honest. Your act has caused great misunderstanding and it might have led to worse.”

“He’s one of dem no good Southern white trash; he’s good fer nuttin’,” said Sam. “I saw yo’ sistah, Mis’ Betty, wif him, and I seen she was gittin’ fond of him, and I says I ain’t gwinter have Mis’ Betty runnin’ off wif him. And I’se never gibbin de lettah to her.”

That was all the explanation Sam would vouchsafe, and Col. Zane, knowing it would be useless to say more to the well-meaning but ignorant and superstitious old negro, turned and wended his way back to the house. He looked at the paper and saw that it was addressed to Elizabeth Zane, and that the ink was faded until the letters were scarcely visible.

“What have you there?” asked his wife, who had watched him go up the hill to the negro’s cabin. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that her husband’s face had recovered its usual placid expression.

“It is a little letter for that young firebrand upstairs, and I believe it will clear up the mystery. Clarke gave it to Sam last fall and Sam never gave it to Betty.”

“I hope with all my heart it may settle Betty. She worries me to death with her love affairs.”

Col. Zane went upstairs and found the young lady exactly as he had left her. She gave an impatient toss of her head as he entered.

“Well, Madam, I have here something that may excite even your interest.” he said cheerily.

“What?” asked Betty with a start. She flushed crimson when she saw the letter and at first refused to take it from her brother. She was at a loss to understand his cheerful demeanor. He had been anything but pleasant a few moments since.

“Here, take it. It is a letter from Mr. Clarke which you should have received last fall. That last morning he gave this letter to Sam to deliver to you, and the crazy old nigger kept it. However, it is too late to talk of that, only it does seem a great pity. I feel sorry for both of you. Clarke never will forgive you, even if you want him to, which I am sure you do not. I don’t know exactly what is in this letter, but I know it will make you ashamed to think you did not trust him.”

With this parting reproof the Colonel walked out, leaving Betty completely bewildered. The words “too late,” “never forgive,” and “a great pity” rang through her head. What did he mean? She tore the letter open with trembling hands and holding it up to the now fast-waning light, she read:

“Dear Betty:

“If you had waited only a moment longer I know you would not have been so angry with me. The words I wanted so much to say choked me and I could not speak them. I love you. I have loved you from the very first moment, that blessed moment when I looked up over your pony’s head to see the sweetest face the sun ever shone on. I’ll be the happiest man on earth if you