In the rear of the drawing-room was the library. It contained about five hundred bound volumes, and more than this number of pamphlets and documents, which had accumulated in a quarter of a century. It contained a large desk and a safe, and the apartment was an office rather than a library, though the owner of Riverlawn had largely improved his education by reading in his abundant leisure. The shelves were piled high with newspapers and magazines, which appeared to have been the staple of his intellectual food.
Levi had given the key of the safe to the new proprietor; and after Noah had read and reread the open letter, and pondered its contents, he carried the one which was not to be opened for five years to the library, and deposited it in the safe with the explanatory epistle which left the whole subject a mystery. What was eventually to become of the negroes was not indicated, but he was enjoined not to sell one of them on any account.
Though opposed to the extension of slavery, Noah Lyon did not believe that Congress had any constitutional right to meddle with the system as it existed in the States. He had never been brought into contact with slavery, and did not howl when his brother became a slaveholder. Like the majority of the people of the North, he was instinctively, as it were, opposed to human bondage; but he had never been considered a fanatic or an abolitionist by his friends and neighbors. He simply refrained from meddling with the subject.
The fifty-one negroes on the estate had been willed to him, and he was as much a slaveholder as his brother had been. The injunction not to sell one of them was needless in its application to him, for he would as readily have thought of selling one of his own children as any human being.
It would require a bulky volume to detail the experience of Noah Lyon and his family during the years that followed his arrival at Barcreek. He was an intelligent man, richly endowed with saving common-sense, and soon made himself familiar with all the affairs of the plantation. He made the acquaintance of the servants, which was no small matter in itself, for he ascertained the history, disposition, and character of all of them.
He found that his brother had not over-estimated the worth of Levi Bedford, who soon became a great favorite with all the family. The new proprietor found no occasion to change the conduct of affairs in the management of the place, even if he had felt that he was competent to improve the methods and system of his late brother. Everything went on as before. Levi made the crops of hemp, tobacco, corn, and vegetables, and raised horses, marketing everything to be sold. He consulted his employer, but he had little to say.
The family became acquainted with their neighbors within a circuit of ten miles, and in spite of their origin they were kindly and hospitably received by the best families.
At the end of a year the Lyons had practically become Kentuckians. In the following year came the great political campaign which resulted in the election of Abraham Lincoln to the presidency. Ominous growls had been heard from the South, and even in the border State of Kentucky. Noah regarded the situation with no little anxiety; but he continued to attend to his own affairs, and it was not till the bombardment of Fort Sumter that he began to take an active part in the agitation which was shaking the entire nation.
Titus Lyon was one of the most stormy and aggressive of the Southern sympathizers. Even neutrality was a compromise with him. When Noah's family took possession of Riverlawn, he did not call at the mansion for several days, though his wife and Mabel, his eldest daughter, had spent the day after their arrival with them. Though Titus said nothing at first, or for months to come, it was very evident to Noah that he was intensely dissatisfied with the distribution the colonel had made of his property.
The state of affairs in Barcreek has been shown in the conversation between the planter and his son on the bridge. This seemed to be a favorite resort for conferences, and they returned to it after dinner. On one side of it was a seat which had been put up there years before; for it was shaded by a magnificent tree which grew by the side of the creek road, and the bridge was the coolest place on the estate in a hot day.
"Of course you heard what your mother said about her visit to Titus's house to-day, Dexter," said the father, as he seated himself on the bench.
"I could not well help hearing it," replied Deck.
"If there is anything in this world I abominate, it is a family quarrel," continued Noah, fixing his gaze upon the dark waters of the creek. "Your uncle seems to be disposed to be at variance with me, though I am sure I have done nothing of which he can reasonably complain. He is down upon every Union man in the county. I should say that Barcreek was about equally divided between the two parties. But he does not talk politics to me, as he does to every other man in the place."
"I don't know what he means when he says you owe him five thousand dollars, for I thought the boot was on the other leg," said Deck, looking into the troubled face of his father.
"He owes me several hundred dollars I lent him before he sold his railroad stock. He is able to pay me now, for he has turned his securities into money, and he seems to be flinging it away as fast as he can. He must be worth twenty-five thousand dollars, including his house and land; but I don't know how much of it he has thrown away."
"If he has spent five thousand dollars for arms, ammunition, and uniforms, he must have made a big hole in it," suggested Deck. "He keeps three horses when he has no use for more than one."
"He never had a tenth part as much money before in his life, and he does not know how to use it. He will be the captain of a Home Guard as soon as he can enlist the men, and the people on his side of the question at the village have begun to call him 'Captain Lyon,' or 'Captain Titus.'"
"Sandy told me that he, his father, and Orly had been drilling for three months with an old soldier who was in the Mexican War," added Deck. "There comes Artie in one of the boats."
"Where is he going?" asked Noah.
"I'm sure I don't know; Artie don't always tell where he is going," answered Deck.
His cousin, whom he regarded and treated as his brother, was pulling a very handsome keel boat leisurely up the creek. The colonel appeared to have had some aquatic tastes, for at a kind of pier half-way between the bridge and the river were a sailboat and two row-boats, all of which were kept in excellent condition. In places the river was wide enough to allow the use of a boat with a sail, and the colonel had had some skill in managing one; but neither Noah nor his boys could handle such a craft, and it was never used.
The creek extended back some ten miles through a flat, swampy region, and Deck and Artie had explored it almost to its source in some low hills not a dozen miles from the Mammoth Cave. Like most boys, they were fond of boats, and nothing but the forbidding command of the planter prevented them from experimenting with the Magnolia, as the sailboat was called by the colonel.
If the boys had explored Bar Creek to its source, they would have discovered that it came out of the numerous "sinks" to be found in this portion of the country, and streams flowed in subterranean channels which honeycombed the earth at a greater or less depth below the surface.
"What are you up to, Deck?" shouted Artie, as he approached the bridge.
"Nothing particular," replied the one on the bridge. "Where are you going?"
"Up the creek," answered Artie very indefinitely. "Can't you go with me? It is easier for two to row this boat than for one."
"I don't want to go now," returned Deck, who was too much interested in the conversation with his father to leave him.
"You may go with him if you want to, Dexter," interposed Mr. Lyon.
"I don't care about going now, father. Do you suppose Uncle Titus has really bought the arms and things as mother says?" asked Deck.
"Your aunt is very much worried about the actions of your uncle. I suppose he told her what he had done, for she would not make up such a story out of whole cloth. Besides, it seems to be in keeping with a dozen other things he has done; and he is certainly doing all he can to raise a company in Barcreek," replied Mr. Lyon.
"Isn't it strange that he never says anything to you about politics, especially such as we are having now?" asked the son.
"I don't see him very often; he is at Bowling Green half the time. Besides, he and I never agreed on politics. By the great George Washington, there he is now!" exclaimed Noah Lyon, springing up from his seat on the bench.
Titus Lyon was seated with his wife in a stylish buggy. He stopped his horse on the bridge when he came opposite to his brother, and passing the reins to Mrs. Lyon he descended to the planks. His wife drove on, and stopped at the front door of the mansion. Frank the coachman ran with all his might from the stable to take charge of the team, and the lady went into the house.
"How do you do, Titus?" said Noah, extending his hand to his brother.
"I think it is about time for me to have some talk with you, Noah," replied Titus, ignoring the offered hand, and bestowing a frowning look upon Deck. "Send that boy away."
"Dexter knows all about my affairs, and I don't have many secrets from him," replied Noah very mildly, and somewhat nettled to have his son treated in that rude manner.
"I came over here on purpose to talk with you; and what I have to say is between you and me—for the present. If you don't wish to talk with me on these terms, that's the end on't," added Titus, rising from the seat he had taken.
"I will go with Artie, father," interposed Deck, who did not wish to prevent an interview between the brothers, though he thought his uncle behaved like a Hottentot.
"Very well, Dexter; but you needn't go if you don't want to," said his father, who evidently did not believe that the proposed interview with Titus would be conducted on a peace basis.
"I think I will go," added Deck, who hailed Artie from the bridge, and then hastened to a plank where he could get into the boat.
For a reason which he would not have explained if he had been interrogated by his father, or by any other person except Deck, Artie was very desirous to have his cousin go with him; in fact, he was thinking of postponing his excursion, whatever its object, till his cousin could accompany him, when the hail came to him from the bridge. He pulled up to the plank, the outer end of which was supported by stakes driven into the bottom of the stream, with a cross-piece above the water. It had been built for the convenience of those taking one of the boats near the mansion. Deck took an oar, and they pulled together up the creek.
Mrs. Titus Lyon was cordially welcomed at the door of the house by Mrs. Noah, who had seen her coming from the window. The lady from the village was in a high state of perturbation, and her eyes looked as though she had been weeping.
"I have had an awful time since you called upon me this morning," said she, wiping her eyes with her handkerchief. "I don't know what we are coming to at our house. For the first time in my life my husband struck me after we got up from dinner, and then hurried me down here with hardly time to change my clothes!"
"Struck you, Amelia!" exclaimed Mrs. Noah with an expression of horror.
"Perhaps it was all my own fault," groaned the poor woman.
"No fault could justify your husband in striking you. But what was it for?" inquired Mrs. Noah, overflowing with sympathy for her sister-in-law.
"You remember that story about the arms and equipments I told you this morning? Well, it seems that my son Orly was listening at the half-open door when I supposed that no one but myself was in the house, for the girls had all gone off to the store. He heard the whole of it, and told his father when he came in to dinner," gasped the abused lady in short sentences.
"He struck you for telling me, did he?" demanded Mrs. Noah indignantly. "I should like to give him a piece of my mind!"
"Don't you say a word to him about it, for that would only make it all the worse for me. Titus says there is no truth at all in the story. He has bought no arms. I misunderstood him; he was telling about a committee in Logan County that had bought the arms and ammunition for a company. It is all a mistake; and if you have told any of your family, do take it all back, and say there is not a word of truth in the story."
Mrs. Titus could see from the window that the two brothers were having a stormy interview on the bridge; but she stayed till long after dark, and had recovered her self-possession before she left. Noah had no supper till she had gone, and the boys had not yet returned.
If Deck Lyon had particularly noted the actions of his cousin in the boat he would have noticed that he was less decided in his movements than usual. He stopped rowing several times in the ten minutes or more that elapsed after he had invited Deck to go with him; and one who had been near enough to study his expression would have understood that he had a purpose before him which he was not prepared to execute under present circumstances.
He had listened with the closest attention to Mrs. Lyon's report of her visit at the house of Titus, and he was in a revery after dinner as he observed Noah and his son walking to the bridge. He waited till he had seen them seated on the bench, and then he walked slowly to the boat pier. He was disappointed when his cousin refused to go with him; but he was not inclined to persuade him to leave his father, for he concluded that something of importance was under discussion between them.
He was relieved, and all his vigor and animation came back to him as he pulled to the house landing. Artie was more inclined than Deck to keep within his own shell; but it was not for the want of native energy, and both of the boys were disposed to do whatever they had in hand with all their might. He brought the boat up abreast of the pier, and Deck stepped into the bow without any further invitation. He took one of the light pine oars from his cousin.
"If you don't object, Deck, I would like to pull the forward oar," said Artie, as his companion was seating himself.
"It is all the same to me which oar I take," replied Deck, as he changed his place.
"I want to talk with you, and I can do it better when you are in front of me," added Artie, as he shoved the boat out into the stream.
"Where are you going? You seem to have something in your head besides bones," said Deck curiously.
"Besides the bones I've got a big notion in my head."
"Is it a Yankee or a Kentucky notion, Artie?"
"I picked it up here, and it is Kentuckish. But I don't want to say anything now; for I'm afraid some one might hear me, more particularly Uncle Titus," replied the bow oarsman as he took the stroke from his cousin. "I wonder what brought him over here, for he don't come to Riverlawn much oftener than he goes to church."
"He acts like a regular Hottentot just out of the woods; and if there are any bears in Kentucky they would behave like gentlemen compared with Uncle Titus," added Deck, who proceeded to describe the manner of the visitor on the bridge when the two brothers met.
"Uncle Titus has got something besides bones in his head this afternoon, and when he started to come over here he meant business," suggested Artie. "Something is in the wind."
"I wanted to stay and hear what was said, but Uncle Titus drove me off as he would have kicked a snake into the creek. He was as grouty and as savage as a she-lion that had lost all her cubs."
"Did he say anything about that story your mother told at dinner?" asked Arty.
"Not a word; he drove me off as though I had been a cur dog before he said a word about anything else," replied Deck, who could not easily forget the brutal manner of his uncle. "But you have not told me yet where you are going, Artie. You haven't any fishlines or bait, and I suppose you are not going a-fishing."
"Not up the creek, for the river suits me better for that business; but I'm going a-fishing for something that won't swim in the water," replied the undemonstrative boy.
"What do you mean by that?" demanded Deck; and his interest in the subject caused him to cease rowing, and Artie pulled the boat round so that it was headed to the shore.
"Pull away, Deck! What are you about? We don't want to stop here," said Artie with more than his usual vigor.
"I am about nothing; but when I talk with you I like to look you in the face, for that sometimes tells the story better than your words," replied Deck, as he gave way again with his oar. "As I said before, you have got something besides bones in your head, and I am in a hurry to know what it is all about. You can't talk it into me through the back of my head."
"But we don't want to stop here, Richard CÅ“ur de Lyon!" protested Artie, rather vehemently for him. "Don't you see that we are still in sight of the bridge, and I would not have Uncle Titus see what we are about for all the world, with Venus and Mars thrown in. Besides, we have a long pull before us, and we have no time to spare."
"But I want to know what it is all about," Deck objected. "I am not going into any conspiracy with my eyes blinded."
"Pull away, Deck! I don't want that Secesher to see us stopping here. We shall come to the bend in five minutes; and then if you want to stop and talk I will agree to it, though we haven't any time to waste," suggested Artie as a compromise.
"One would think you were going to set the river on fire by your talk," replied Deck, profoundly mystified by the words, and more by the manner of his companion.
"We may set the creek on fire before we get through with this job," continued Artie, deepening the mystery every minute. "There's Levi Bedford," he added, as the manager, riding on a rather wild colt, in the road leading to the fields, came abreast of the boat.
He was too far off to talk to the boys; but he waved his hat to them, and the boatmen returned the salute, as he continued on his way.
"I wonder where Levi stands in the row that is brewing all over the country," said Deck. "I don't hear him say anything of any consequence, though he may have talked to father. He did not come from New England, and I don't know whether he is a Secesher or not; and it looks as though he did not mean anybody should know."
"He don't belong to the Home Guards any way," added Artie. "He is a Tennesseean, and it would not be strange if he had some Secesh notions."
"I don't believe he is going back on father," replied Deck, when the manager had disappeared and the boat had reached the bend. "Here we are; we can't see the bridge now, and the bridge can't see us."
"We will stop if you say so; but we may not get back to the house before to-morrow morning if we spend much time here," said Artie, as he rested on his oar, and seemed to be very unwilling to use any of the time in mere talk.
"If the time is so short, why didn't you start out this morning? and why didn't you let me know sooner that you were going to set the creek on fire? We might have brought our dinners with us, as we did when we went to school in Derry, and made a day of it," argued Deck.
"Things were not ready this morning, and I started just as soon as I saw the star in the east," replied Artie.
"You don't generally wait for the grass to grow under your feet when the lightning strikes near you."
"The lightning struck while we were at dinner," added Artie quietly.
"But I think we can fix things so that we can talk and keep moving at the same time," suggested Deck, as he rose from his seat with his oar in his hand, and stepped over his thwart to the aftermost one.
He seated himself on this thwart, facing the bow. The boys were not skilled boatmen, though they had practised rowing a good deal on the river and creek, and they had not trimmed the light craft to the best advantage for ease and speed, for it was down too much by the head. Deck asked his cousin to move one seat farther aft, and he complied readily, in spite of the fact that he was the more skilled of the two in rowing. In the smallest of the three boats at the lower pier he had often made long trips alone up the creek, besides those when his cousin was his companion.
"That lifts the bow higher out of the water," said Artie as he took his place.
"So much the better," replied Deck, proceeding to give philosophical and scientific reasons to explain what experienced boatmen know by instinct, as it were. "Now take the stroke from me, and don't pull any faster than I do."
Placing himself in an angular position on the thwart, with his right hand hold of the seat, he began to row with his left. While pulling alone in the canoe, as the negro rowers called the smallest craft, he had been inclined to protest against the accepted custom of going backwards in rowing; and he would gladly have adopted the mechanical contrivance in use on some of the Northern waters which enabled the boatmen to pull while facing the bow. He wanted to see where he was going without turning around, and he had practised rowing in this position.
Deck was heavier and stronger than his cousin, though hardly as agile. Artie took the stroke from him, and it was quite as quick as he cared to row on a long pull. They kept good time, and the boat went along as rapidly as before.
"Now light your match, and start the fire, Artie. We shall lose no time by this arrangement, and we shall get back to the house before morning."
"Perhaps, after you understand the nature of the enterprise, you will not be willing to go with me," added Artie, looking earnestly into the face of his cousin.
"I can tell better about that after I know what it is," returned Deck, reciprocating the earnest gaze of the other. "But it is you who are wasting the time now. Why don't you come to the point without going around all the buildings on the plantation?"
"You heard the story mother told about the arms and ammunition Uncle Titus had bought for the Home Guards in order to make himself the captain of the company?"
"Of course I heard it," and Deck was unwilling to say another word to increase the preliminaries to the revelation.
"Did you believe it?"
"I did."
"Then you are satisfied that Uncle Titus has a lot of arms hid away somewhere in this region?" persisted Artie.
"I had my doubts, and I spoke to father about it on the bridge just before you came along in the boat. He thought that his brother was just crazy enough to do such a thing; but he thought whiskey had a good deal to do with the matter, especially in permitting him to tell his wife about it. Of course Sandy and Orly are mixed up in this business. But this is an old story by this time, Artie, and you have not told me yet what you are driving at," said Deck impatiently.
"We are going to look for the arms and ammunition, Deck!" exclaimed the originator of the enterprise. "Is that talking plainly enough?"
"To look for the arms and ammunition!" almost shouted the after oarsman, ceasing to use his oar in the astonishment of the moment.
"You insisted on my telling you all at once, and I have done so; you have stopped rowing."
"What you said was enough to throw a fellow off his base. Do you mean that you are going on a wild-goose chase all over the State of Kentucky to look for what may be a mere notion, conjured up by an overdose of whiskey?" demanded Deck, still resting on his oar.
"Don't get excited, CÅ“ur de Lyon; cold steel cuts best," said Artie.
"And that's the reason father puts his razor into hot water when he is shaving."
"I don't think anybody is right down sure of anything in this world," continued the leader of the enterprise. "I think I am as sure as any fellow can be in this State of Kentucky, where no man or boy can tell which end he stands on, that I know where Uncle Titus's arms and ammunition are hidden."
"You know!" ejaculated Deck.
"I think I know."
"What are you doing up the creek, then? Didn't Aunt Amelia say that the arms were concealed near the river?" asked Deck, hardly able to breathe in his excitement.
"I think I know where they are hidden better than she did. If Uncle Titus told his wife that they were hidden on the river,—and that is just what aunt said,—her husband intended to cheat her," said Artie very confidently. "I should say that a dozen glasses of whiskey would not have made Uncle Titus fool enough to tell anybody where the arms were concealed, not even his wife; and they don't seem to be a very loving couple since they came to Kentucky."
"That's so," added Deck.
"Do you remember that time about a fortnight ago when father spoke to me about being out so late one night, Deck?"
"I remember it; it was on the bridge."
"That night I found out something I could not explain, but I can now, after what I heard at dinner to-day. But we have eight or ten miles to pull if we are going to find the arms to-day, and we must be moving," added Artie.
Deck rowed again, and they proceeded up the creek, Artie telling his night adventure by the way.
Probably Noah Lyon had never felt anything like the emotion of anger in his being against his brother until they met that day on the bridge. As one and another had said several times, no two men of the same blood and lineage could have been more differently constituted. Noah had been a diligent student as a boy, and a constant reader in his maturity; while Titus had been the black sheep of the family, had neglected his studies in his youth, and did not even read a newspaper in his manhood, unless for a special purpose.
Titus could read and write, and knew enough of arithmetic to enable him to keep the accounts of his business. Whatever he learned after he left school he gathered from the speech of people; and as his associates were not of the intelligent class in his native town any more than they were in his new home, his education was very limited and his moral aims, if he could be said to have any, were not elevated enough to keep him very far within the limits of the law, which were his principal tests between right and wrong.
Before he was twenty-one he obtained a position to drive a stage on a twenty-mile route, so that he spent every other night at a tavern; and this did not improve his manners or his morals. As a boy he had become disgusted with farming, and had learned the trade of a mason, working at it three years. Like his elder brother, he was a horse fancier, and was a skilful driver. An accident to the old stage-driver placed him on the box, and when the place became permanent he was only twenty years old.
With so little intellectual and moral foundation as he had laid for his future character, it was a misfortune for him that he was then a "good-looking fellow." He boarded at the tavern, and paid only two dollars a week in consideration of his position, for it was believed that he had some influence with his passengers. He was well supplied with money for one of his age in the country, and he spent all he had.
He was an agile dancer, which, with his good looks, made him popular in the town, especially with the girls. Amelia Lenox was a pretty girl. She had a fancy for the handsome stage-driver; and, in spite of the earnest objections of her father and mother, she accepted him as her husband, and they were married. Titus took a cottage near the tavern, and for a year, with the help of his and her father, they got along very well.
All of a sudden a railroad shot through the town, and the business of the place was gone in the twinkling of an eye. The wages of Titus stopped, and he had a wife and child to support. He went to his father for advice. The mason, who had done a good business in the town and its vicinity, had grown old. Hopestill Lyon, the grandfather of the boys, was his best friend, and bought out his business for Titus.
For several years he worked well, made some money, and paid his grandfather for the investment made on his behalf. But he did not like the business. Unlike his brothers, he seemed to believe that fate, destiny, circumstances, or some other indefinable power that regulates the worldly condition of mortals, had misused and abused him; for he ought to have been "born with a silver spoon in his mouth," with wealth at his command, so that he could live in luxury without work.
When he built chimneys, plastered rooms, or jobbed in filthy drains and smutty fireplaces, he labored with an active protest against his occupation in his soul, which extended down to his hands and feet, shutting out ambition, and making him lazy. He was always on the lookout for some other occupation, or for some change which would put more money in his pocket. He did a vast deal of grumbling and growling at his lot, occasionally taking home with him a gallon jug of New England rum, which did not improve his condition. He was not a drunkard, but he was unconsciously falling into a bad habit.
His wife was an intelligent woman, and was a good helpmate; but it did not require a prophetic vision to read the future, near or distant, of Titus Lyon. It was said by some of the old people in the town that he "took after" his grandmother, who had been a stylish woman in her younger days, though the solid character of Hopestill Lyon had controlled her inclinations so that she made him a good wife.
Mrs. Lyon reasoned kindly with Titus; but before she left her Northern home she had lost whatever influence she had ever exercised over him. He was eager to settle in Kentucky when the colonel's letter announcing an opening for him came, and she was utterly opposed to the plan. It was at least a change, and he was determined to make it, in spite of the fact that his brother could not advise him to do so; and the result proved the solidity of the colonel's judgment.
For seven years Titus fawned upon his wealthy brother. He was as obsequious in his presence as one of the field-hands of Riverlawn; but the colonel did not believe in him as he did in Noah, especially after his long visit to the latter. When the health of the planter began to be slightly impaired a couple of years before his death, Titus was sordid enough to think of what would become of his plantation, which seemed like a mine of wealth to him, at the decease of the owner.
He had talked planting, hemp, and horses to the colonel, and did all he could to impress him with the belief that he was competent to manage the plantation. It was his nature to believe in what he desired, and he was satisfied that Riverlawn would be bequeathed to him, as it ought to be. The reading of the will was a shock to him. The giving of ten thousand dollars more than his fair share to Noah, who lived far away, and had never even seen the plantation, in consideration for bringing up the two orphans of his brother, excited his wrath.
He regarded this gift as an absolute wrong to him, while he was compelled in pay the note out of his own share. He went home from Riverlawn that day choking down his anger; but he was furious in the presence of his wife, though she did all she could to console him. She pointed out the fact that he now owned his place clear of any debt, and had twenty thousand dollars in cash, stocks, and bonds; but he was not satisfied. He wanted Riverlawn, where he could live in style, with an abundant income without work.
As he brooded over his fancied wrong, it came to his mind that the colonel'sante-morteminventory had not included the value of the negroes on the plantation. He hastened over to see Colonel Cosgrove, the executor. He exhibited a copy of the will, and Titus studied over it for half a day. Nothing was said about the slaves. Then he went to another lawyer with whom he had had some political dealings; but this gentleman assured him that he had no remedy; the colonel had an undoubted right to dispose of his property as he pleased, even if he had given the whole of it to Noah. He had bequeathed the plantation, the mansion, with all that was in or on them, or appertaining to them; and this included the negroes.
For nearly two years Titus had nursed his wrath, and was earnest in his belief that Noah ought to right the wrong the colonel had done him. Yet he had never had the courage to make this claim upon his brother, or even to mention to him the five thousand dollars which he insisted belonged to him. The law could do nothing for him, his own lawyer told him. Noah was his brother, now his only brother; and it was his duty, according to every principle of right and justice, to pay over to him half of the legacy of ten thousand dollars, and of the twenty-five thousand dollars which was a low valuation of the negro property.
The quantity of Kentucky whiskey which Titus consumed magnified his wrongs and made him more unreasonable than his natural discontent would have made him. When he learned from his younger son what his wife had told Mrs. Noah, he was more furious than he had ever been known to be before, and he descended to the brutality of striking her. He had taken more than his habitual potion of whiskey, and it made him ugly. His wife wept bitterly over the abuse she had been subjected to, both the words and the blow, and she had fled to her bedroom.
She was a high-spirited woman, and it seemed to her that the end of all things had come, at least so far as her domestic happiness was concerned. Her father was a well-to-do farmer; and neither he nor her brothers would permit her to be abused by any one, not even by her husband. A sudden and violent resolution came to her to return to her father's house. While she was thinking of this remedy and of the parting with her children, Titus rushed into the room. She must undo the mischief she had done, and he would drive her to Riverlawn for that purpose. He told her what to say, and she promised to say it; for she felt that she had been indiscreet in what she had said.
During the drive her husband had continued to abuse her with his unruly tongue, and she had wept all the way. They found Noah and Deck on the bridge, and Titus decided to pour out his grievances to his brother; for his drams had brought his courage up to the point where he felt like doing it. He was not intoxicated, but he had drunk enough to make him ugly. He descended from the vehicle, and Mrs. Titus drove over to the mansion.
Dexter was sent away as before related, and the father was somewhat moved by the rudeness with which the boy had been treated. He was a mild-spoken man; and though he was quiet in his manner, he had more real grit in his composition than Titus.
"You seem to be excited, Titus," said Noah, as he seated himself on the bench from which he had just risen.
"I have good reason to be excited," growled the angry man. "My wife has acted like a fool and a traitor to me!"
"I am sorry for that, Brother Titus; but I hope you don't hold me responsible for her conduct," said Noah in gentle and conciliatory tones.
"Not exactly; but you are responsible for enough without that, and I have made up my mind that it is time for you and me to have a reckoning, for you don't do by me as a brother should; and if father was living to-day he would be ashamed of you," returned the mason, with all the emphasis of a bad cause.
"I was not aware that I had been wanting in anything one brother ought to do for another. But we had better consider a subject of such importance when you are cooler than you seem to be just now, Titus. Your present complaint appears to be against Amelia, and not against me. What has she done? I have always looked upon her as a very good woman and good wife."
"You don't know her as well as I do. I don't know what bad advice Ruth has given her, or what influence she has over Meely, but she made her tell a ridiculous story about some arms and ammunition," said Titus in a milder manner; for he seemed to be intent upon counteracting the effect of her action. "I s'pose Ruth repeated to you the story Meely told."
"She said you had given five thousand dollars for the purchase of arms, ammunition, and uniforms for a company of Home Guards, of which you were to be the captain."
"I'll bet that wa'n't all she told you," added Titus.
"That was the substance of it."
"I suppose most folks in Barcreek know all that."
"I never knew it till to-day."
"You don't go about among folks in this county as I do."
"I don't associate much with Secessionists and Home Guards."
"I do! But that is my business, and I have a good right to give my money where it will do the most good; and I shall do so whether you like it or not," fumed Titus.
"I don't dispute your right; though I am surprised that a man brought up in the State of New Hampshire should become a Secessionist when more than half the people of Kentucky are in favor of the Union," added Noah.
"'Tain't so! I never was a Black Republican, as you were, and I don't begin on't now. If you want to steal the niggers, I don't help you do it! But Meely told your wife something more;" and Titus looked anxiously into the face of his brother, as if to read the extent of the mischief which had been done.
"I believe Ruth did tell me that the arms and munitions had already been purchased, and were hidden somewhere on the river," added Noah. "But I did not pay much attention to this part of the story. The material part of it was that you had given so much money to assist in making war in the State."
"I give the money to keep the war out of Kentucky, and maintain the neutrality of the State," argued Titus.
"We had better not talk politics, brother, and I will not give my views of neutrality."
"The story my wife told about the arms was all a lie!" exclaimed the visitor with an oath which shocked the owner of the plantation. "No arms are hid on the river, or anywhere else. Meely understood what I said with her elbows; and she has come down now to take it all back."
"Very well; I don't care anything about the arms, though I should be sorry to have them go into the hands of the Secessionists or the Home Guards, for they are all in the same boat."
At this moment Levi Bedford rode over the bridge on the colt, and Titus was silent.
Levi Bedford had not come to the bridge to interfere with the conversation or to listen to what was said; but as he was returning from the distant fields of the plantation by the creek road, he could not help seeing that a stormy interview was in progress on the bridge. He believed that he understood Titus Lyon better than Noah did. He considered him capable of violence to his brother when under the influence of liquor, and he deemed it prudent for him to be within call if he was needed.
Noah would have scouted the idea of Titus raising his hand against him, even when he had been drinking; for in former years they had always lived together on the best of terms. Levi had seen more of the mason within a few years than Noah. While the colonel lay unburied in the mansion, he had spent most of the time at Riverlawn, and to some extent had assumed the control of the plantation.
The manager had not required the negroes to do anything but necessary work during the sad interval; but Titus had interfered, and sent the field-hands to their usual occupation. He had "bossed" Levi himself as though he were only a servant, and even meddled with the affairs of Diana in the house. The manager could not resent this interference at such a time, and he could not help seeing that Titus was taking more whiskey than usual; for he had even ordered Diana to bring out the choice stores of this article which the colonel had kept for his friends rather than for his own use.
He talked to Levi just as though the plantation would soon come into his hands, and had made himself as unnecessarily offensive to the overseer and all the petted servants as possible. It would not be overstating the truth to say that he was thoroughly hated at Riverlawn. Levi had packed his trunk in readiness to leave as soon as the tyrant took possession of the place; and even some of the people were thinking of making their way to the free State of Ohio.
Levi bowed and smiled as he passed the planter, but he only reined in his fiery steed, and did not stop. He did not even look at Titus, much less salute him, for he despised him; and pleasant as he was to all on the place, including the people, he was an honest man, and appeared to be just what he was. He rode over in the direction of the river, and when he reached a thicket of trees and bushes he stopped the colt and tied him to a tree. He remained there where he could see the bridge without being seen by those upon it.
"I wonder that you keep that fellow on the place," said Titus, as Levi rode off. "In my opinion, and I have seen more of him than you have, Noah, he is a rascal;" and the last remark was seasoned with an oath.
"I think he is a very useful man, and my family are already very much attached to him; for he is always good-natured, and kind and obliging to everybody," replied the planter.
"There ain't no accounting for tastes, as my wife says; but if I had this place that cuss would get kicked out before he had a chance to breathe twice more," said Titus with a look of disgust which caused him to twist his mouth and nose into such a snarl that Mrs. Titus would hardly have known him.
Levi had not told his employer in what manner the would-be owner of the plantation had conducted himself on the place after the death of the colonel; and Noah could not understand why his brother had such an antipathy to so genial a man as the manager, viewed from his own and his family's standpoint.
"I take Levi as I find him, and I have been very much pleased with him," added Noah.
"But I did not come over here to talk about that dirty shote," continued Titus, suddenly bracing himself up to attack the subject of the grievances which had gnawed like a live snake at his vitals for nearly two years. "In the fust place, I want you to understand, Noah Lyon, that there ain't a word of truth in the story Meely told this noon in your house."
"All right, Brother Titus," replied Noah. "I haven't looked for the arms and ammunition, and I know nothing about them."
"Do you believe what I say, Noah?" demanded Titus with a savage frown.
"I have no reason to doubt your statement."
"If you and your family want to make trouble over that statement, I s'pose you can do so. You 'n' I don't agree on politics."
"We are not disposed to make trouble. If there should be any difficulty it will come from your side of the house, Titus."
"You are an abolitionist, and folks on the right side in this county have found it out. They don't believe in no Lincoln shriekers, and the Union's already busted," said the Secessionist brother with a good deal of vim; and in this, as in other matters, he believed the popular sentiment was on the side he wished it to be.
"I voted for Lincoln, and I believe in the Union," added Noah quietly.
"Yes; and there is five hundred men in this county that would like to drive you out of the State, and burn your house over your head!" exclaimed Titus, becoming not a little excited. "I believe they'd done it before this time if I hadn't stood in their way."
"Then I am very much obliged to you for your friendly influence. I was not aware that I had been in any peril before," returned Noah with a smile, which was suggestive of a doubt in his mind. "Do you think I am in any danger from such an outrage as you suggest?"
"I know you are!" Titus belched out with something like fury in his manner. "If it hadn't been for me they'd done it before now. You haven't been a bit keerful in your doings. You've got up a Union meeting at the Big Bend schoolhouse for to-morrow night; and if you go on with it, I'm almost sure you will get cleaned out; and the folks on the right side may come over here, after they have shut your mouths at the Bend, and see whether your house will burn or not. I have done all I could to keep our folks quiet, and advised them not to meddle with the meeting at the schoolhouse; but if you keep on the way you're going, I won't be responsible for what happens."
"Though I came from the North since you did, all the people I meet seem to be very friendly to me," answered Noah, the smile still playing upon his lips; a satirical smile which indicated that he did not believe more than a very small fraction of what his brother had been saying.
He had no doubt that the gang with whom Titus and his sons associated would do all and even more than he prophesied; but they did not form the public sentiment of the county.
"You don't meet all nor a tenth part of the people, and you don't know what is running in their heads," protested the Secessionist. "You and your two boys keep on howling for the Union when the people round here are all dead set agin it. What can you expect? Seven States is out of the Union, and that busts the whole thing."
"I don't think a majority of the people about here are of your way of thinking, Brother Titus; but if I am in danger of mob violence, as you say I am, my house is my castle; I shall defend it as long as there is anything left of me," added Noah, the same smile resting on his lips as he uttered his strong words.
"Defend your house!" said Titus with a bitter sneer. "You hadn't better do anything of the sort. If you show fight, the crowd will hang you to one of them big trees. You ain't reasonable, Noah. Do you cal'late on fighting the whole county?"
"We differ considerably in regard to the state of feeling in this county. We are between two fires, and I think we had better not say anything more on that subject."
"That's so; but one fire is an alfired sight hotter than t'other; and that's the one that will burn up that big house of yourn."
"I shall defend my house, and I think I shall be able to hold my own. But I am not an abolitionist any more than you are, Brother Titus," mildly suggested Noah.
"You shriek for the Union, and it's all the same thing among honest folks down here," retorted the Secessionist.
"I hold about fifty slaves, and I had an idea that this made me a slaveholder," said Noah lightly.
"Don't you own 'em?" demanded Titus violently; for this subject touched upon one of his grievances. "I have done everything I could to save you from any hard usage on the part of our folks in spite of the way you've used me."
"I am not aware that I have used you badly, Brother Titus."
"You call me brother; but judging from your actions you ain't no brother of mine."
"I should like to have you tell me in what manner I have wronged you, Titus. I hear from others that I owe you five thousand dollars; but I am not aware that I owe you a nickel," replied the planter, who had by this time come to the conclusion that the quarrel his brother insisted upon fomenting might as well be brought to a head then as at any other time.
Titus was silent for a moment, and resumed his seat on the bench, from which he had risen a dozen times in his excitement as the interview proceeded. He looked as though he was gathering up his thoughts in order to present his argument, as he evidently intended it should be, in the most forcible manner.
"If a man has two brothers, and one of them goes back on him, is that any reason why the other should go back on him?" asked the dissatisfied one with more coolness and dignity than he had before exhibited.
Mrs. Amelia, years before, had tried to reform his language, picked up in the taverns and among coarse associates, and she had succeeded to some extent. He could talk with a fair degree of correctness; but he had two methods of expression, one of which he called his "Sunday lingo," used on state occasions, and his ordinary speech at home and among his chosen associates, enlarged by the addition of some Southern words and phrases. He began his argument in his best style, though he had never been able to banish his use of the milder slang.
"Decidedly not," replied Noah very promptly. "On the contrary, he ought to stand by the brother if he has been wronged."
"That is just exactly what you have not done, Noah Lyon!" exclaimed Titus, springing from his seat again. "And Nathan said unto David, 'Thou art the man!'"
"Which means that I am the man," answered Noah, his smile becoming almost a laugh. "I didn't know, Brother Titus, that I was the David, and I must ask you to explain."
"Dunk went back on me," continued the malcontent, recalling the name by which the colonel was known on the farm in his boyhood.
"I was not aware that Dunk did any such a thing. I suppose you mean in his will."
"That is just what I mean!" stormed Titus. "He gave you ten thousand dollars more than he gave me; and that was not fair or right."
"But the will explains why he did so."
"On account of fetching up them two children! I wouldn't have brought in any bill for taking care of my dead brother's children. I ain't one of them sort!" protested Titus.
"But you refused to take one of them into your family when I proposed it to you," suggested Noah very gently.
"Because my wife was sick at the time," said Titus, wincing at the remark.
"You did not offer to take one of them afterwards. But I did not bring in any bill; I never even mentioned the matter to the colonel when I wrote to him. I boarded, clothed, and schooled them for ten years, and paid all their doctor's bills."
"But Dunk gave you ten thousand dollars for it; and it wasn't right. He spent a month with you in Derry not long before he died, and you smoothed his fur in the right way," snarled Titus.
"But the children were not mentioned. I am sure it cost me a thousand dollars a year to take care of the children; but I did not complain, and never asked you or Dunk to pay a cent of the cost. The colonel made his will to suit himself; and he never spoke or wrote of the matter to me."
"You got on the right side of him, and he cheated me out of what rightfully belonged to me. I ain't talking about law, but about right. Half of that ten thousand belongs to me, and you are keeping me out of it."
"It was right for you and Dunk to pay as much for supporting the orphans as I did. Then you and he owed me two-thirds of the sum bequeathed to me. At compound interest that would amount to more than I receive under the will. I will figure it up when I have time, and of course if you owe me anything on this account, you will pay me."
This argument completely overwhelmed Titus; but Levi had concluded there would be no violence, and dashed over the bridge on his fiery colt.
Titus Lyon dropped into his seat once more when Levi approached. He scowled at the manager as he swept by with a bow to his employer. He had been talking very loud about what was fair and right, and he could not deny that the expense of supporting the orphans ought to be divided among the three brothers. According to Noah's calculation, the boot had been transferred to the other leg, and he owed his brother something on this account if the matter was to be equitably adjusted.
Titus could not gainsay the position of the planter, and he tried to choke down his wrath; and just then he would have vented it upon the innocent overseer if he had not flown like the wind across the bridge, making the planks dance a hornpipe under the feet of his steed. As the malcontent was silent for the want of an argument with which to combat that of his brother, Noah went over the subject, and clinched the nail he had driven in before.
"I'll look the thing over again when I go home, for I want to be fair and right in everything I do," said Titus, after he had sought in vain for an argument with which he could upset the theory of Noah. "I only claimed that you owed me half of the ten thousand; I didn't ask for the whole on't."
"You never asked for even half of it before; you only told others that I owed you that sum," replied Noah.
"Well, I believed it."
"In that case neither you nor the colonel would pay anything towards the support of the children for ten years, for the law would divide the property equally between us," replied Noah. "I can't tell exactly how the matter stands till I figure it up; but I think you will owe me something if we settle it on the basis you suggest."
"I guess we'd better drop the subject till we have both looked it over agin," added Titus, utterly disgusted with the result of the argument. "I don't say that Dunk hadn't a right to dispose of his property as he pleased; but jest s'pose'n he had left it all to me and gi'n you nothin'—would that been right?"
"If he had had any reason for doing so, it would have been his right to do so; but I should say I should not be in condition to be an impartial judge in the matter," said Noah with a smile.
"Did he have any reason for treating me any wus than he did you?" asked Titus sharply, as he sprang to his feet again. "Dunk wa'n't no abolitionist, and went with the folks round here on politics. He 'n' I agreed, and never had no dispute on these things."
"I don't think the colonel did treat you any worse than he did me. He chose to pay for supporting the orphans, though I never asked him to do so, or hinted at any such thing. We have talked that over, and nothing more need be said about it now. I have indicated how that thing might be fairly settled, and we will let it rest there."
"But I still say Dunk used me wus 'n he did you; and as a brother you are in duty bound to set me right, as you said one of the same blood should do."
"I don't understand you, Brother Titus; for I am not aware that the colonel treated me any better in his will than he did you," replied Noah, wondering what further complaint his brother could make.
"Didn't he give five thousand dollars to that cuss that just rid over the bridge?" demanded Titus with a sort of triumphant tone and manner, as though he had the planter where no argument could avail him. "That was just the same as taking twenty-five hundred dollars out of my pocket, as well as out of yours."
"But you don't bear in mind, my dear brother, that the colonel was disposing of his own property, and not yours or mine," said Noah with a pronounced laugh at the absurdity of the other's position.
"Don't go to dearin' me, Noah; it will be time enough for that sort of thing when you've done me justice," snarled Titus.
"When I've done you justice!" exclaimed the planter, rising from his seat again to vent his mirth. "I must do you justice because your brother and mine gave Levi Bedford five thousand dollars! Must I pay you twenty-five hundred dollars on this account?"
"I didn't say so."
"But you implied it; for you were trying to prove that the colonel used me better than he did you. It seems to me that you ought to make your claim on Levi, if anybody."
"You git ahead faster'n I do. I only meant to say that Dunk didn't use me right when he gave his money to this mean whelp; but he treated you as bad as he did me, Noah."
"I have no complaint whatever to make, and I am glad the colonel remembered Levi handsomely; he deserved it, for he had always been a useful and faithful overseer," added Noah very decidedly.
"Let that rest," said Titus when he found that he made no headway in the direction he had chosen. "I s'pose you won't agree with me, but I say Dunk ought to have left this place to me instid of you. I was his oldest brother, and I have lived here eight years, and know all about the plantation, while you never saw it till after Dunk was dead."
"I am inclined to think the colonel knew what he was about, and he made his will to suit himself," answered Noah.
"I should think he made it to suit you. Of course I know it's law, but it wa'n't right," growled Titus.
"If you think it was not right, why don't you contest the will, and have it set aside?"
"Don't I say it was law; and I suppose it can't be helped now," and the injured man tried to put on an air of resignation. "But I ain't done."
"I should say you had said enough; for there seems to be no foundation for any of your complaints. I think the colonel meant to be fair and just, and make an equal distribution of his property between you and me. Taking out fifteen thousand dollars he gave to charity and his friends"—
"That was giving away what belonged to you and me," interposed the objector.
"You are as unreasonable as a pig in a cornfield, Brother Titus!" exclaimed Noah, whose abundant patience was on the verge of exhaustion. "Duncan was giving away his own property, and not yours or mine, as you appear to think he was, especially yours; for I believe he did just right. Taking out the fifteen thousand and the ten he paid for the support of the orphans,—which I suppose you mean to have settled up in another way,—there was seventy-five thousand dollars left, which he divided equally among his brothers and the representatives of the one who died over ten years ago. That is according to the valuation annexed to the will."
"It's mighty strange, Noah, that you can't see nothin' when it's p'inted out to you," stormed Titus, his wrath rising to the boiling point at his repeated defeats; for, "though vanquished, he could argue still."
"I don't believe at all in your pointing, Brother Titus."
"You talk about that valuation; but it was a fraud, and it was meant to cheat me out of eight or ten thousand dollars!" roared the malcontent, gesticulating violently. "It ought to been thirty thousand dollars more'n 'twas! I say it out loud; and I know what I'm talkin' about!"
"I don't think you do, Brother Titus. I think you had better stop drinking whiskey for a week, and then we can talk this subject over more satisfactorily."
"Do you mean to accuse me of bein' drunk, Noah Lyon?" demanded Titus, shaking his fist in the face of his brother; and at this moment that colt was dashing over the bridge at a dead run, with Levi on his back.
"I don't think you are drunk, Brother Titus, as tipplers understand the word, but you are under the influence of liquor, and it affects your judgment," replied Noah as gently as though he had been speaking in a prayer-meeting.
"Then you mean that Iamdrunk!"