"But it's full of poetry, Uncle Clem."
"Full of poetry? Well, maybe it is, but you have to listen too close to hear it."
"Ah, but the sweetest communications come in a whisper."
"By the hoofs, the boy's in love. Now, you take a horseman's advice and keep out of it. It's a jolt, leaving you for a time to wonder whether you're hurt or not, and after a while you find that you are. Yonder come the General and that doctor. Let's sheer off this way and go back to the house?"
How the coming of one person can change an atmosphere! At one moment the breath we draw is a new and invigorating hope, the next instant the air is parched and dead—we see an evil eye, a hated face. My education was not systematic; I read as a hungry man eats; and, as my learning progressed, I began to give myself up to a speculation upon the sadness of my lot in life, my eyes becoming wider and wider opened to the fact that knowledge could avail me nothing, could but throw a lime-light upon my bondage and make it ghastly; but when the doctor returned I looked back at my state of happiness during his absence. It was true that Old Miss gave over no opportunity to humiliate me, but I had grown so accustomed to this that no longer did it sting me—I put it down as the soured whim of an old woman. But the sight of the doctor, the fact that he and I were under the same roof, was iced water constantly dripping upon my head. I was not physically afraid of him; gladly would I have fought him; in a fight Icould have cut his throat and stood looking calmly upon his blood, and thousands of times had I wished that I were a white man, that I might challenge him; but morally I stood in horror of him. I avoided him, slinking about like a thief; I hid myself behind stone walls and in thickets until he had passed, but at the table I was compelled to look upon him and to hear his voice. Once when he spoke to me my Young Master saw me tremble and when we had gone forth together, the young man said to me: "Dan, don't stand behind my chair at meal time any more. It's a piece of nonsense anyway, a notion covered with mold."
I thanked him and told him that I would not, but at supper that evening, Old Mistress flouted so and made such a fuss at my absence that Master came to the foot of the stairs and called me. "It won't be for long," he said as I came down. "I don't believe that fellow can stay here much longer."
But the days wore along and he continued to remain, and though I was skillful in my avoidance of him, yet he sometimes confronted me when I least expected it. One afternoon, during the wheat harvest, I was sent to the distillery to get whisky to be served to the hands. Just as the distiller had handed me the fulljug, the doctor stepped out and in apparent surprise asked me what I wanted there. I told him that Old Master had sent me for whisky.
"I believe you are lying," said he, "but take it and go, and don't fool along the road, either. Do you hear?"
I told him that I had no intention of fooling along the road. "That yellow rascal is petted until his fingers and toes stick out," said he to the distiller. "I wanted to take him and make something of him, but they wouldn't let me. But I'll get him yet."
"He'd be worth fifteen hundred if he was a little pearter," said the distiller, looking at me as I moved off.
"Yes," the doctor agreed, "and an apple tree sprout well laid on would add many a dollar to his worth."
I walked as rapidly as I could, but the doctor being on horseback soon overtook me. I wondered what new insult was fermenting in his mind. I had not long to wait. "Boy," said he, riding up, "are you sure you haven't swigged some of that liquor?"
"I have not touched it," I answered without looking up.
"Stop a minute," he commanded and I obeyed. Helooked up and down the road, and then said: "Take out that corn-cob stopper and drink."
"It is not for me, sir," I replied.
"I don't give a d— whom it's for; you drink it."
I stood near a fence and with one arm resting upon it as I replied: "You want me to get back drunk to bring disgrace upon my Young Master and myself."
He kicked his horse and rode almost upon me. His eyes were green with hate and had he thrust forth a forked tongue like a serpent, I could not have felt surprise. He stood in his stirrups and lifted high his riding whip. "You yellow ooze of the devil, I'll make you drink that liquor or I'll slit your hide until it won't hold feathers." His lips were apart, his teeth were set and his brows were knit with the force that he summoned to his arm. Within a second this stinging blow must fall, but I commanded him in so sharp a tone to hold that his arm came down slowly and his whip hung at his side. "Do you threaten me!" he hissed, thrusting his chin forward. Year after year he had eluded the notice of age, had escaped, it seemed to me, without enumeration, but now the time he had cheated came fall upon him, wrinkling his face, yellowing his countenance and making him hideous. He was so close upon me, leaning forward with his sharp chinpointed at my heart, that I could smell the fumes of brandy on his breath. He gazed hard, trying, I could see, to hold my attention, but I noticed that his hands were not idle. He changed his whip to his left hand and with his right plucked out a keen knife. I was in a corner of the fence and the horse's breast was almost against me. And thus he was poised like a fierce animal, waiting for my reply, hoping that it would not be one of submission. I was not frightened, but reason flew through my mind like a bird caught by a strong wind. To defend myself meant the gallows.
"Doctor," said I, "you have no cause to seek my life. You are a white man and I am what you are pleased to call a negro. In the court-house your mere word would be a law against my oath. You have every moral as well as, at present, every physical advantage. You are a man of education and are closely connected with one of the best families in this proud State, and now what prompts you to tread upon me?"
My coolness drove him mad. He kicked his horse and jammed me into the corner of the fence. For a second his knife gleamed like the belly of a snake circling in the air. I threw up the jug, caught the knife and the broken blade fell to the ground—Iseized the horse in the nostrils, as I had seen Mr. Clem grasp "the devil," wrenched him until he fell upon his knees, caught up the jug which I had let fall at my feet, threw it over into the soft clover and with a spring followed it. The enraged man's oaths ripped like a saw striking a knot.
"I'll get you yet," he cried, shaking the knife-handle at me.
"You will feel better when you are sober," I said, smiling at him. I could have sliced his heart and therefore I smiled—at the happy thought. "And I want to tell you one thing. I may be hanged one mile from the court-house, but this is the last time I am going to run from you." I turned to go, but he called me. "You have threatened me," he said, not raging, but with more of quiet than I could have expected, "and on my part it would be justice to take a gun and shoot you, but if you will agree to say nothing about this affair when you go to the house, I will swear never again to molest you. The truth is I've been drinking and am not myself."
"I looked at it in another light, sir. I thought that the drink had given your true self a bold development."
"God, but you can talk, you yellow—but I say, Dan,I mean what I say. Agree not to mention this affair and I'll always treat you civilly. I've had enough to spoil the temper of any man alive, but I'll hold it down so far as you are concerned. What do you say?"
"I agree, sir."
"All right. Now give me a drink out of that jug and I'll call it square."
"No, this liquor is not for you; it is for the harvest hands; it isn't up to your grade."
"Consideration or impudence, one of the other—but I'll let it pass. All right, now," he added, tightening his bridle-rein to ride away, "remember your part of the contract and I'll remember mine."
Old Jason, at the head of the men in the field, censured me for passing so much time on the road, and old Steve, humorous rascal, gave a broad grin as he looked upon the whisky and swore that he didn't think that I had passed anything on the road; that everything had passed me. Old Master came walking up to the clump of alder bushes under which a number of the hands had gathered to "blow" in the shade, and after making a pretense of drinking with them, told me to walk to the house with him. With what envy the black men regarded me as I strode off beside the man who held their destiny in the hollow of his hand!Looking back I could see many a dark frown. Among the blacks the "yaller man" was never a favorite. An attempt to be refined and especially a smattering of learning invoked contempt from the sturdy yeoman of the negro quarter.
"They are not so mighty fond of you," said Old Master as we walked along. His old eyes had caught the expression of their disfavor.
"No, sir, and I am sorry, for I would give much for their good opinion."
"I'm glad to hear you say that, my boy. It is a true proof of a gentlemanly instinct. The coarse-grained man holds himself above the opinion of those far below him, but a gentleman would value the good will of a dog. By the way, have you seen the doctor to-day?"
"I think, sir, that I saw him in the road as I was coming from the distillery."
It was some time before he spoke again, walking along with his gaze bent upon the ground. "Dan"—and he looked up at me, "do you remember the time you threw the tumbler on his head?"
"As well as if it were but an hour ago," I answered.
"If you had seen him this morning you would have felt like striking him a harder blow," he said. "Wehad a quarrel and my old blood was so stirred that I was almost tempted to cut his throat. He made a demand on me for more money than I could really afford to give—the scoundrel, I have given him already far more than his share—and was insulting when I refused him. Your Mistress has been brought to see him in his true light and I have her consent to drive him away and I'll do it. He calmed down and apologized, but I told him that he must leave within a day or two, and he'll have to. I can't stand him any longer."
"Master, I don't see how you could have stood him so long."
"It was to keep the neighbors from talking," he replied. "Differently situated, I would have kicked him into the road long ago. He is the strangest man I ever met. He's bright, and at times he appears the perfect gentleman and is exceedingly interesting, but in a moment his nature seems changed. We were at the barn this morning when his insulting mood came on, and I looked up at a scythe hanging there and was sorely tempted to mow off his head. But that would never do."
We were walking along a fence bordering the turn-pike. Someone in a buggy called the old man and Iwent onward to the house, with a regret that I had been so long away from my law book. We had given to our room the name of office, for Young Master had already begun to recite his lessons to a retired judge who almost daily dismounted from his horse to give us the benefit of his learning. In the office I found Bob and Mr. Clem.
"Why don't you go in with some lawyer in town and be done with it?" Mr. Clem was saying as I entered the room. "You are not quite old enough yet to reach the bar, but you've got about all the law you could get at school, and about all that remains now is to pick up the details of practice."
"Yes, I know," said Bob, "but when a young man goes into an old lawyer's office he is expected to do all the work, take none of the glory and receive but little of the pay. We'll hang on here a while longer, won't we, Dan?" He looked up at me with a smile.
"Yes, sir; and when we go, we'll go strong."
"Dan is to be my silent partner," he said, nodding at his uncle.
The old fellow jerked his shoulders as he replied: "Yes, sir, and he'd better be pretty devilish silent at that, I tell you. The leaves from so many abolition pamphlets are fluttering in the air that anything withthe appearance of granting the negro more of equality with the white man will be resented in no uncertain way. But I'm glad to hear that Dan is to be your partner and I advise you to keep it strictly to yourselves. Heigh ho." He leaned back with a stretch. "This country is slower than tar in January. Haven't seen but two horses—horses that I'd have, you understand—go over the pike to-day. And that's rather discouraging for a man who insists on paying his way. Only two horses, and I didn't get but one of them." I thought to ask him concerning the outcome of his contest with the preacher, but he continued to talk, and I never thought of it again. Billows came to swallow the little waves.
"Yes, sir, only two horses that I would have, and yet this is the State of Kentucky, where Clay lived and died. Two horses, mind you, and I didn't get but one of them. Fellow didn't want to swap; said he was in a hurry. Might as well have said that he didn't want to live because he was in a hurry. But I got him to stop, and then I brought out the bay mare that I got the other day. She had her Sunday clothes on and I could see that she caught his eye. He got down and looked at her feet and then gathered up the skin on her shoulders; said he thoughtit was a little too tight. I told him that there wasn't anything loose about her; that the contract only called for enough skin to cover her. Well, we swapped, and I got twenty-eight dollars to boot, all he had. Would have got more, but he didn't have it. He was a sad sort of fellow and I didn't want to take advantage of him, without giving him some sort of a show, so I told him that he'd better not take my word for anything. But he did."
"Wasn't your mare all right?" Bob inquired.
"Oh, yes, in a measure—bad measure, I might say. She had been galloped down-hill on the pike until her shoulders were sorter stove up, and that's what made the skin too tight, and her wind ain't of the best, but she's good enough for him. I took his horse to town—just got back—and got a first rate price for him on the public square."
After a time Mr. Clem lay down and fell asleep, and I took up a book to keep the silent company of Young Master, and I read page after page without being able to grasp a single idea. How hopeless everything was determined to appear. Abetted by the kindest of men I had stolen into the field of thought, was preparing to become an out-lawed advocate of the law, a sneak-thief behind the bar. A silent partner, indeed, amysterious counsellor, a dumb orator. As supper-time drew near, I shuddered at the prospect of meeting the doctor's eye. Would he keep his contract with me? An easy matter if what Old Master said was true. But I feared that the old gentleman would weaken when the time came for him to be strong. And should that man be permitted to remain, I believed that he would murder me. Ought I to keep my word with a wolf? I asked myself time and again; and more than once I was on the point of breaking it, but a sense of honor held me back. Why should I feel the fetters of honor chaffing me? I looked up to meet Young Master's eyes. Ah, they, so full of soul and fire, were an inspiration to my struggling manliness. And his affection, though given under cover of dark secrecy, was the most blessed reward I could receive on earth.
In the dining room I waited, standing behind Young Master's chair, looking across at Mr. Clem—waited for the doctor but he did not come. Every sound without gave me a sickening stir, a chicken on the rear veranda, a dog trotting through the hall, the wind-stirred fox-horn tapping against a post just beyond the door. But the man did not come.
My nerves were so wrought upon by the continuous dread of the doctor's coming that by the time the meal was over I was almost in a state of collapse. Young Master's eye noticed my indisposition, and as we turned about in the hall to mount the stairs, he said to me:
"Slip out, Dan, and take a walk in the fresh air, alone. You don't look well." I thanked him and halted, and he passed on without inquiring into the cause of what he must have seen was a pitiable dejection. A thousand well-sifted words could not have shown the delicacy of his nature more fittingly, and my gratitude followed him step by step as he went up the stairs; and when he had reached the landing I stole out of the house.
The brown veil of dusk lay upon the land, but in a hill-side thicket far away a light was shimmering to illumine the early evening festival of the gray fox—the moon was coming up. The air was still and soft, but heavy with the sappy scent from thedamp grass land down the creek. On the comb of a cabin, grotesquely outlined in this dun-colored close of day, sat a negro blowing a melancholy reed, and high above him the bull-bats were screaming. In the shrubbery a hord of negro children were playing a counting-out game. I passed the cow-pens; the women were there and I heard the stream of milk spurting hard in the "piggin." My spirits rose out of their nervous lassitude; I felt a strong and almost unnatural sense of exhilaration, and this alarmed me, for we are sometimes afraid to feel an unaccountable buoyancy lest it may foretell a coming fall. I have known Christians who had prayed for sanctity in the sight of the Lord, to tremble at happiness, afraid that it might be a trap set by the devil. I skirted the shore of the creek, crossed the meadow, passed through the woods, entered the grassy lane and stood there with my arms on the fence, looking at the full moon, now high above the trees. And I thought that the foxes must have given over their dancing to scatter about for a night of mischievous prowling. I was on a knoll, and turning about I could see the lights in the cabins and the great house, a hen and her chickens squatted upon the ground, I fancied. The strongest light came from my Young Master's room, and in my mind Icould see him sitting at the table with his eyes fastened upon his sheep-bound book. And the self-reproach of an ambitious thought that I was not keeping up with him started me homeward at a bound. But I had not gone far before I was stopped by a voice. A man stepped from the corner of the zig-zag fence. "Hold on!" he said, and the doctor stood before me. The moon was on his face and in the coarse lines that traced his countenance the devil's mockery was legible.
"Where are you going?" he asked, standing with his hands behind him.
"Home," I answered.
"Home!" he repeated, and vitriol was in his voice. "Is there a home for everyone but me?" He threw his head back as if motioning toward the house. "Can you go back there and sleep on a bed when I am told never to cross that threshold again? Can you?"
"I don't know what you mean, doctor?"
"I have been driven away this night. The old man has turned me out."
"But am I to blame? I am the humblest member of that household."
He did not change his attitude, but I thought that I saw his bosom swelling. "The humblest because youare the lowest down, but a snake is low down," he said, thrusting his chin toward me. "Look here, spawn. The first step you took put you in my way. Do you hear me?"
"Yes, sir, and I am much surprised to hear you say it. I didn't think you would acknowledge that I had so much force. We have not been friends, it is true, but I thought that my position kept us from being enemies. To be enemies must argue a certain degree of equality, and I have never presumed upon that. You may have stooped. And now let me beg you to straighten up and forget that I ever existed."
"I will forget that you have existed, and I will straighten up, but not until I have stooped lower. Look here. I hate the fool boy that owns you, and if I could kill him this moment, I would. I am getting old and there is nothing left for me. But I want revenge and I am going to have it, for I am going to be sensible. I never was a fool."
"Doctor, I don't understand your meaning."
"You are duller than usual. If I were to kill your master or that old imbecile, this whole county would follow me, but if I kill a yellow dog, they—" He leered at me, the moon full on his face. A chill seizedmy legs and ran to the top of my head and the roots of my hair felt cold.
"You mean that you will kill me?"
"That's what I mean. They drove me to brandy and brandy has pointed you out."
I was perfectly calm; the chill had left me. "Will you please let me pass?" I asked; and he stepped back, still with his hands behind him. "No," he said.
"Have you forgotten our contract?"
"You are a fool if you put faith in it. You are not negro enough to be put by with a kick. You are white man enough to be killed. And when they find you in the morning they will think that your little learning drove you mad."
This startled me. I believed that they would think so, if they should find me dead, but no obedience to a social law and surely no regard for the statutes could force me to submit quietly to the bloody purpose of this raving man.
"Doctor, I have run from you for the last time. Get out of my way!" I stepped aside, but he moved toward me. Now his hands were in front of him and I saw a knife. I had nothing. I could have turned and run away; I could have leaped over the fence, but hot blood was coursing where the chill had crept.
"I am going home," said I, "and I am going down this lane."
He made no reply, but with a leap and a strike he was upon me. I caught the wrist of his right arm; I threw my left arm about him. I thought that I heard his bones cracking and it gave me a thrill of mad delight. I did not strive to get his knife. I bent his head down till his cry was but a mutter; his right hand was crushed against his bosom—and I threw him upon the ground. He struggled, with one faint cry, for his face was in the grass, and I put my foot on his back to hold him down, to complete my victory over him. And I am free to confess that my soul was full of a joy that almost burnt me, it was so hot. Many a time had he stood with his foot upon my trembling heart, and the memory of those long years of humiliation swept over me and I lifted my hands and cried aloud to the God of vengeance. I looked down at my foe under my foot. And now he was so mean and shrunken that my heart flinched with a pity that pricked it. I lifted my foot with a quick jerk lest another memory might press it down the harder, and stood waiting for him to get up. He did not move. "Get up," I said, taking him by the shoulder. But he made no effort. Then I turned him upon his back and the moonlight fell uponhis blood, and horrified, I looked at him, his eyes wide open, his teeth hard set with grass between them. His right hand was still upon his left breast, clutching the knife, and its blade was buried in his heart.
I dropped upon my knees, and gazed at him, now so old and wrinkled. I leaped to my feet and the air whistled in my ears as I bounded down the lane. I was struggling to run away from the knowledge that I had killed him, but it kept up with me—showed me a jail and a gallows. I halted when near the house, put my arm about a tree and stood there. The negro cabins were dark, but a light burned in Young Master's room. The hour was late. The creek was louder than I had ever heard it, a mockery, not a music. A wind had sprung up and in the tree-tops there was a cold and rasping whisper. I was striving to reach a decision as to what course I should pursue. Undoubtedly I had killed the man or had thrown him so that he might kill himself, but of this I had entertained no thought at the time, my aim being to protect myself and to humiliate him, to show him that I could turn and be his master. But I could not explain this to the authorities, therefore I held no notion of giving myself up. To run away were an acknowledgement of guilt, a brief inquiry and therope. I could make a flat denial, if accused, but was afraid that I could not summon the nerve to maintain it. Still something must be done. I might go to Mr. Clem, tell him the truth, get letters from him to persons in the real land of the free and with his financial aid make my escape out of the country. But this was blocked by the love I bore my Young Master. I went to the well and washed my hands, although I could find no blood on them, and the windlass was so loud with its groaning that I fancied the whole world must hear it. A dog came up, sniffed at me and trotted off. Life had been stirred until I had found the sugar at the bottom. I must save myself, but I could not run away without telling my Master, without asking his advice. I would go to him. Up the stairway I stole without a noise. I was afraid that I might find Old Master pacing the hall, and I listened to hear his slippered feet, but all was still. I turned the knob so gently that Young Master did not hear me when I entered the room. He sat gazing at his book. I spoke and he started.
"Why do you come slipping in this way, Dan? You startled me. What were you doing so long? What the devil is the matter with you, boy?"
I caught at the edge of the table, dropped upon my knees and told him my story. I do not know what hisface might have shown, for my eyes were cast down, I don't know what he felt, but I do know that not a sound escaped him. I got up at the end and looked at him, and his face was pale and hard.
"Lie down," he said, pointing to my lounge.
"To be pulled up by the sheriff?" I cried.
"Lie down and ask no questions, and stay there until I call for you. If anyone comes in, you are too ill to get up. Do you hear me? This is not a request; it is a command. D— you, will you do it?" he cried, stamping the floor. "You belong to me. Do as I tell you. Take off your clothes. If father asks for me, tell him I went away early in the evening. Don't say a word."
I took off my clothes, with the tears falling on my trembling hands. He watched me until I was in bed and then he put the light out. I heard the door close—heard him going down the stairs.
Would day-light never come was a speculation that lay upon my mind until it seemed to gather mold, like a rag in a damp cellar. But why should I long for the sun to rise to pour light upon the blood in the lane? And to myself I said that it would be better for me if darkness should remain forever upon the earth. But the hours were so tiresome and the world was so reproachfully still. I had thought that my reading had led me away from the superstitions of my negro ancestors; long ago I had thrown away the lucky bone taken from the head of a cat-fish; I had ceased to make a cross mark in the road and spit in it whenever I found that I had forgotten something and was forced to turn back; I did not believe that the hanging of a dead snake across the fence, belly up, would make it rain; I had laughed at old Steve when he told me that a horse's tooth, ground to powder and carried sewed up in a sack, would prevail against the tricks of the conjurer. But now I believed in it all and trembled at the awful consequences that a renegade scorn mightcall upon me. With a cold sweat I remembered the words of a black hag who lived in a hovel at the edge of the town. On an occasion, not more than a month gone-by, she had taken offense at what she termed my uppishness; she crossed her crutches in front of me, cut a mysterious diagram in the air and swore that before the moon changed twice I should fall a victim to a blighting calamity. The moon had not changed twice and the calamity had fallen. I got up to look at the moon, to search for a confirming mark upon it, but through the windless night, dark clouds had floated and the sky was black. At the window I sat and gazed into the darkness toward the lane. A wind sprang up and was hoarse in the tree-tops. Rain would come and wash the blood away, but the body and the crying wound would be there at the coming of day. I wondered whither my Young Master could have gone and why he should have left me. Was it that he had gone thus early to the authorities to beg for my life? That were useless. Law and society must have my blood. On my side a ton of justice would be but a thistledown, blown by a baby's breath. And I gazed from the window toward the lane. Day-light could not be far away; it had already fallen upon the hilltops, I thought. Yes, the far-off sky was turning gray;but nearer it was black with clouds. Strange that a storm should be gathering just at this time. The lighter it grew the nearer the clouds came. They split, one in the form of a great bird, sailing away; the other was a horse galloping madly, with a ribbon, a bridle-rein of lightning, flashing at its throat. The household was stirring. I heard Old Master go down the stairs; I heard old Steve calling the hogs. There was not to be a storm. The clouds were gone and the air was sultry. The horn was blown to call the negroes to breakfast. I heard horses galloping over the turn-pike. But the body in the lane had not been found. God, I could see it, lying near the fence! I heard someone coming and I crept back to bed and covered myself. Mr. Clem entered the room.
"You boys going to sleep all day?" he asked. "But Bob's gone; where is he? Why, he hasn't been to bed. Didn't he stay here last night?"
"No, sir; he went away early on business."
"But what's the matter with you this morning? You look sick."
"I am, sir. I don't believe I am able to get up."
"I'd better send for a doctor. Why, you've got a chill."
"Don't send for a doctor," I pleaded. "Don't send for anyone; let me lie here alone."
"Well, I'm sorry you're sick," he said, turning about. "Want anything to eat?"
"No, sir. I just want to lie here until Young Master comes."
For a time he stood looking hard at me, with his hand on the door. "Hear of the row last night?" he asked. I feigned surprise and said that I had not, whereupon he continued:
"The Old General finally summoned the requisite nerve and drove the doctor off. I wasn't very close, but I heard all that passed. The doctor pleaded and started to threaten and then the old man roared. 'If you are anywhere in this neighborhood by morning,' said he, 'I will take a shot gun to you, I don't care what the public says or how close its investigation may be.' The doctor moved on off and I followed along, to see what he intended to do when the old man's back was turned, and once I got close enough to hear his mutterings and to understand him to say, 'I'll let the old fool go, but somebody will die before morning.' Just then the General called me and I went back. I don't know who the doctor intended to kill, didn't know but it might be Bob, andI would have come in last night to tell him—saw him going up the stairs—but Bill Mason came over and said that he wanted to beat me out of a horse or two, and so I went over to his place and haggled with him nearly all night. Man of considerable worth, Mason is. Has kept his eyes pretty well open while other people have been dreaming, but he napped a trifle and I came off some time before day with two better horses than I took with me and a pretty fair roll of money. I told Bob, you remember, that I never would say anything more to you about running away, and I won't. But somehow I think that justice ought to be stronger than friendship or even blood relationship. Still, I'll keep my word with him and not advise you to run away. I tell you what I'm going to do, though. I'm going to throw this roll of money over there on the bed, and if it's not there when I come back, and if you are gone by to-night—but I promised Bob."
He threw a roll of bank notes on the bed and almost trotted in his haste to get down the stairs. I got up and walked about the room, not daring to look at the money, but my mind was not so obedient as my eyes. The means of possible escape lay there within my reach. Could any human being blame me for struggling to save my life? I went to the window andlooked out and drew back with a shudder. The body had been found. Several persons were standing about it, and along the lane there walked a number of men, my young master in the midst of them and among them I recognized the coroner of the county. They were going to hold the inquest. I saw Old Master and Mr. Clem walking hard to overtake them. Now was my time. I jumped into my clothes, wondering that no one had called me to see the dead man; I clapped my hat upon my head—and seized the money. I ran to the door, but to save my life I could not cross the threshold. I stood there gasping, with that old woman's crutches crossed before me. I threw the money upon the bed and my love for my master arose strong and overpowering in my heart, and with the tears streaming from my eyes I bounded down the stairs, out into the yard, over the fence, and tore down the lane toward the spot where the body lay under the stern eye of the law. I caught up with Old Master and Mr. Clem just as they reached the place—I ran to Young Master, and he turned upon me with a frown. "Don't interrupt me," he cried, waving his hand. "I know your devotion to me, but I demand silence. Gentlemen," he said, addressing the coroner and the jury, "I don't intend to make myself out altogetherblameless, but I was forced to kill him. I was unarmed and it was his own knife that shed his blood." And then, while I stood there gaping, he gave in minutest detail an account of the strike, the struggle and the fall. I looked at Old Master as he stood there bent forward, staring; at Mr. Clem as he gazed upon the young man who had stepped in between me and the hangman, but my jaws were locked wide open and I could not speak.
"Gentlemen," said Mr. Clem, "I demand to be sworn." He held up his hand, muttered the oath and then proceeded with his testimony.
"Last night I heard the doctor say he would kill him. He said that he would let the old man go, meaning my brother, but that someone would die before day, and I know that he meant Bob. It has been well known among us that bad blood existed between them. I—"
Suddenly I leaped forward, struck upon the head, I fancied, by the crutches of the old woman, and with a cry I fell upon my knees. "My master did not kill him;" I groaned in agony. "I killed him. Listen to me and then you may hang me. I—"
Bob sprang at me and clapped his hand over my mouth. "Gentlemen," he said, "this poor, devoted boywould save my life—it's his way of repaying a life-long kindness. Pay no attention to him, but let us attend to the demands of justice. I killed this man, I have told you why and how. And I am ready to take the consequences. Come here, Dan." He jerked me to my feet and led me off. "Dispute me another time," he said, "and before God I will cut your throat. Now go to the house or I'll take a stick and beat you every step of the way."
I was almost bereft of my senses as I walked toward the house. I met Old Miss with a troop of negroes behind her. She was wringing her hands and the negroes were crooning a low chant. Some one bade me stop, but I hastened on, through the yard, up to the room; and the sight of the money lying there on the bed, the thought that I had clutched it to run away from the noblest man that ever breathed, drove me mad; and I fell upon the lounge and the world was black.
When I opened my eyes to the light, I was undressed between the sheets and a cloth was bound about my head. Someone was talking. I looked up and saw a physician just taking his leave. Bob stood at the window. I raised myself up and he hastened to me.
"Don't get up, Dan," he said.
"Yes, I am all right now." But I was not all right. I was so weak that I could scarcely sit up in bed.
"What time is it?" I asked.
"Oh, about ten," he answered, smiling. "And I'm devilish glad to see that you've come out all right. We thought at one time that you were gone. You raved all day yesterday."
"Yesterday! No, we were deep in our books yesterday."
"Dan, you have been in bed a week."
"Is it possible?" I cried, and then I looked at him. He read the inquiry that was in my mind. "The coroner's jury discharged me," he said. "And not a vestige of blame clings to me. The neighbors all have come to give me their hands. Now if you are going to cry like a fool, I won't tell you about it. There, I didn't mean to be harsh. It's all right. They said that I couldn't have done otherwise, and no regret is expressed. Why, it has made quite a hero out of you. Fame whirls her cloak in the air and we never know how soon it is going to fall. Don't look at me that way. Oh, yes, you may take my hand if you want to. There, now, don't blubber. Why, don't you know they would have hanged you long before this time? But we won't talk about that. We didn't buryhim in the garden," he went on after a slight pause, "but in the grave-yard on the other side of town. We agreed, mother with the rest of us, that he must not lie beside my sister. It may seem strange to you, but the household appears happier. Father's mind has thrown off a load. And Uncle Clem has been so stimulated that he has filled the stable with horses. He's preparing to drive them to market. Don't be in a hurry about getting up. Just take your time. And I'll go down and have them send you something to eat."
News came that a minister had preached a sermon upon my devotion to my master and exhorted his hearers to be thus faithful unto their Master, the Lord. This was brought to me by none other than Old Miss herself. I was able to sit with a book upon my lap, and out of respect for her prejudice, I put the volume down as she entered the room, but she bade me keep it. And when she had told me what the preacher said, she added: "You may read all the books you like, for we know now that you cannot be poisoned by them. It was noble of you, Dan."
"Please don't talk that way," I pleaded, my heart smiting me.
"Yes, I will. You tried to throw yourself into my son's place to save him, and I can't say too much in your favor. And you will reap your reward when the time comes. 'Well done, thou good and faithful servant,' can be said of you."
Old Master came in while she was sitting there. He appeared to be pleased with the attention she showedme, or his pleasure might have proceeded from his discovery that her temper was improved. "You'll be all right now pretty soon," he said. "I don't believe that I'd read too much. It isn't well to strain your mind. Has your young master told you that he is preparing himself for examination? He is nearly ready, and will be by the time court meets next week. He's afraid that he won't get through without a bobble, but I think he'll go through like a flash. He has decided to enter old Judge Bruce's office. The old fellow doesn't know much but he is a good palaverer and has a pretty fair practice. He never was a real judge, you know—was a candidate once and came off with the title but missed the office."
As Old Master became warmer toward me, Old Miss grew cooler; her countenance while she talked had been kindly, but now it was veiled with a frown. The prospect of seeing Young Master established as a lawyer lifted my spirits, but the sight of his mother's displeasure toward me threw them down. Old Master observed the change in the atmosphere. "Madam," said he, "I have been thinking that we need a new carpet for the parlor."
"Indeed," she replied, bowing with a mocking grace, "I am delighted to credit your eye-sight with asudden improvement. I have spoken of the condition of that carpet until I am tired of it. It's the talk of the neighborhood, I'm sure. Mrs. Ramsey turned up her nose at it the other day, and I couldn't help thinking that it was a pretty pass indeed to be humiliated in my own house by such a thing as she is. And it was no longer ago than last fall that her husband had to sell an old negro woman that had been in the family all her life."
"Huh," grunted the old man, winking slyly at me. "Did she turn up her nose very high?" He grabbed out a red handkerchief, snorted into it and sat looking at her with the water of an old mischief standing in his eyes.
"General, don't laugh at me. I am the last person in this world that you should laugh at. Don't you do it!"
"But, madam, you are the first person I should laugh with."
"I don't see how you can laugh at anybody after what we have gone through with lately, blood spattered on our door-sill; but I actually believe that you have been gayer since that awful event." With that remark she flounced out of the room, and the old man sat there, looking out into the blue space of thespeckless day, silent and absorbed. After a time he turned his old eyes slowly upon me.
"The youth whose promise in life embraces the prospect of a broad scope should be taught that at the end of it all—this alluring rain-bow—lies disappointment. Sometimes when I have seen my men in the field, with no thought of the morrow and with never a worry except some trifling physical ill, I have wished that I was one of them. I started out wrong," he went on, shaking his head slowly up and down. "Horses can be called back from a false spurt in the race, and another start taken, but men must go on. Dan, I have stood by and seen you trying to educate yourself, and I have said nothing, although I know that education is often the sensitizing of a nerve that leads to misery. To be a gentleman means to possess a large ability to feel, and to feel is to worry, to brood and to suffer. Men of the North and gentlemen of the South, the phrase has gone forth. Our old Virginia blood is gentle, in society; but alone, it is hot with the lingering fire of the cavalier. Do you know what I am saying?" he asked, deepening the wrinkles in his brow.
"No, sir; I don't know that I do."
"I suppose not. I have been beating the devil around an oratorical stump, sir," he said, his scrawny,red neck stiffening. "I don't know that I understand myself. Is that Bob or Clem coming up the stairs? It's Bob. Glad to see you doing so well," he added, getting up. And standing for a moment, he put his hand on my head. "You are a noble fellow, even if you are a slave and a negro."
Going out he met Young Master coming in. The young man saluted; the old man gave him a smile and a kindly nod and passed on. Bob spoke to me; said he was glad to see me improving so fast; he sat down and took up his book. He opened it at random, knowing it so well that any place offered an understandable beginning, but he did not read. He turned his eyes toward me and said: "You remember that about two months ago a gentleman named Potter bought the old Jamison place, over on the pike? Mother and I called on the family. And since then I have been over there a number of times, though I have said nothing about it to even you. All my life I have been gazing about to discover a sweet secret, and I think I've found one. Yes—and her name is Jane." At this he laughed, threw down his book, shoved his chair back and put his feet on the table. "The name is well enough, no doubt, but in this part of the country we usually associate it with a black wench, you know; and I was impudentenough to ask Mrs. Potter why she didn't call her Jenny, but she shut me up with, 'she was named for my mother and it is an honorable name, I'm sure.' And it is, too—it takes on bright colors as I associate it with her. But I never thought that I could be smitten with a girl named Jane. It struck me that they had nick-named a rose—said scat to a lily. Do you know what she did? Came over here to see you. Said she wanted to see a hero. I brought her up and she looked upon you as you lay here unconscious. As a usual thing, a boy is born in love—falls in love with his nurse if no one else is handy—but I have escaped pretty well. Oh, I did rather love the Webster girl, and I confess to breathing hard whenever Miss Flemming, the old maid school-teacher, came about; but I'm sure I never was knocked senseless with a perfumed slung-shot until I met Jane. Well, the name's all right; is like the finest music—takes you some time to discover its beauties. I told her that I was going to be a lawyer and she said that was charming; declared that she was coming to hear my first speech. I wish she would; I could shame Demosthenes."
Not since he was a small boy had I heard him rattle on so, and it was a delight to me. Of late his over-manishness and his abstraction had told of too deep anabsorption in his books, of an impatient ambition gnawing him, and this chaffy talk and the idle light of his countenance relieved a fear that had crept into my mind.
"There is something more than beauty about her," he went on, taking pleasure in the interest I was showing. "She reminds Uncle Clem of a blooded horse, he says. I was inclined to take exceptions at this, but remembered that it was but an expression of real enthusiasm. She steps like a fawn, springs off the turf before she appears to have touched it. My first feeling toward her was one of gladness. I was selfish enough to believe, or to fancy that I believed, she had been created to delight me. And when I removed my eyes from her, I felt sad. Her eyes laughed at me and her lips seemed to say, I have found a fool. At the gate she had jumped off a horse and was in a riding habit when she came running into the room. She was in no wise embarrassed by me. After a while she said that she was hungry and I was startled. I could not conceive of that creature sitting down to vulgar bread, and I was stupid enough to say that I didn't see how she existed in the winter, with the roses all gone. I knew she must eat roses. And she smote me hard by replying that cabbages came on about thetime roses gave out. This tickled her mother immensely and she shook her fat sides and fanned herself with the wing of a guinea hen. I am getting all my visits mixed, perhaps, but I am giving you a collection of impressions. The mother is ignorant and the father is coarse. He made money driving mules to New Orleans and bought the Jamison farm. Yes, her mother and father are plebeian, but the girl is a patrician of the rarest type. She told me that she had just come from school. I asked her if she were sure she had not just come from a gallery of famous portraits. This tickled her and my blood danced in rhythm with her laugh. Every line of my prose, law, oratory, turned up crackling like drying leaves and was blown away, but all the poetry I had read remained, blooming anew. Now you know how bad off I am, and you may congratulate yourself that you can't follow me into this new domain. Oh, what is so delicious as a fool's love affair! But I wonder if she's going to have fun with me and then tell me to go. No, sir, I'm going to win her love if actions, words and devotion count for anything. Dan, she has given me new blood. Good thing that something has happened, for this quiet, expectant life is almost unbearable."
"What's that?" cried Mr. Clem, stepping into the room. "Quiet life, do I hear? Well, it won't always be this quiet, my son. Lincoln will be nominated for the presidency as sure as you live, and the chances are that he'll get in, and then what? War, my boy; red-whiskered war. The South is as sore as a stone-bruise and won't accept an abolitionist. Our high aristocrats have been hankering a long time for a fight and they are going to get it."
"Let it come," replied Young Master, shoving his hands into his pockets. "It will be a tournament, music, smiles and flowers. Then we'll all eat out of the same bowl."
"Don't you fool yourself!" the old man exclaimed, and I saw that he was deeply in earnest. "It won't be a tournament. It will look more like a butcher's pen."
"But the blood-letting will be good for our swollen pride. It will give us all a chance to strut like a turkey gobbler, and, Uncle Clem, it will bring up the price of horses."
"By the hoofs, I hadn't thought of that. I never saw a young fellow improve as fast as you do, Bob. In the last week or so you have said several pretty good things. You are getting the proper grasp on truth; and if a man has truth in one hand it needn't make anydifference what the other fellow has in both hands. Yes, sir, if a war should break out, the horse market would hold up its head and snort. But say, Bob, wasn't there a little love mixed up in what you were saying as I came in?"
"Not a little, uncle. All."
"The girl you've been prancing around with lately?"
"Yes, if you wish to put it that way."
"High stepper, Bobbie; trot a mile in—I mean she's all right. Good nostrils—shapely nose, you understand. Laughs well, teeth all sound, and if I were a young fellow, I'd agree to pay her way into every show that might come along, and make a fire for her every morning. Why, Dan, you appear to be tickled nearly to death. I want to tell you that I found that money on the bed where I dropped it. Talk about your heroes of old, why—"
I interrupted him with a sign of real distress. "I must beg of you and of everyone else, Mr. Clem, not to try to make a hero out of me. But there is a hero under this roof—"
"Dan," Young Master broke in, "I have just sharpened my knife and I am almost tempted to cut off your ears. Of what use is an ear when you turn it from heart-felt praise to catch the unsympathetic tones ofaverage life? And now when anyone starts to compliment you upon your heroism, I command you to keep your ears open and your mouth shut. You did act the part of a hero. Shut up, not a word out of you."
Mr. Clem swore with a horsey oath that I was a hero, and I was compelled to sit there and listen to his extravagant praise.
I saw Young Master admitted to the bar. The court-house was crowded, for an exciting trial was on, but a kind-hearted bailiff let me take a seat wherein I could hear every question asked by the committee of examiners. I knew that he could answer them, and I felt not the slightest fear, but my heart stood still as he tripped over a point almost absurdly simple. I noticed that he had just cast his eyes toward the gallery, and looking that way at the instant of his petty stumble, I beheld a tall and graceful girl, standing with her head leaning against a post, looking at him, and I knew that his divinity had confused him. But he recovered himself, and I saw Old Master swell with pride and Old Miss wipe her eyes. I was in hopes that they would give him an opportunity to make a speech after the examination, but there was no occasion for his oratory, so I walked out to wait for him at the door. Old Master and Old Miss came out to wait also, not caring to push themselves behind the bar among the lawyers, and indeed too proud to letthe neighbors presume that there had been any anxiety concerning the result. Presently Young Master came out with the girl whom I had seen standing in the gallery. The old people shook hands with her when they had shaken hands with him, and upon me the young woman turned her beautiful eyes. "Oh, this is your faithful boy," she said, speaking to Bob, but looking at me. "I am glad to see him out and looking so well."
She had ridden a horse, but Young Master requested the favor of taking her home in his buggy. She said that such an arrangement would please her greatly, and her eyes danced with the delight of the thought. I brought the buggy and was told to sit on the shelf seat behind to lead her horse. She bade the old people an affectionate good-bye, and out the turn-pike we drove, along the stretches of red clover and underneath majestic trees. In the distance to her home, three miles or more, there lay a charm, and they did not suffer the spirited horse to trot. The day was warm, the leather curtain raised, and I could hear distinctly the words that passed between them. I could see that he had not more than hinted at his love for her. Her beauty dazzled him and made him afraid. He would have talked of books, but she leaped lightlyfrom that subject, and from this I inferred that her mind was not well stored with the knowledge gathered by the busy men of the past. But she was bright and her talk like herself was spirited and pretty, and her observation was minute. She had seen everything about the court-room, an old lawyer with a spot of ink on the sleeve of his linen coat, a tattered book on the floor, a handful of trash swept into a corner.
"The stars shine on all that lies beneath them," said Master, a fine tribute to her eyes, I thought; and she must have thought so, too, for she gave him a laugh that rippled like our creek of a morning when the wind is low. But she protested against his gallantry with a sternness that could not have belonged to her light nature, a plea to him to repeat it, which he did. To his ardent nature, frivolity was a foreign commodity upon which a heavy import tax was laid. He could be argumentative, oratorical, gay, serious and bright for hours at a time, but the silly though pretty chatter which our social life is supposed to dash as spray between the masculine and the feminine mind was far beyond him. In nearly all affairs he was too intense for the perfectly balanced mind. And on this day he strove repeatedly to fasten the young woman down to seriousness, that he might estimate her mental strength, I perceived;but she flitted about like a humming bird, no sooner attracted by one flower than allured away by another. Still the perfect femininity of her wit, or that which might pass for it, was captivating. A strained and tiresome novelette, now almost forgotten, was then an imported rage, and she had not escaped the infection. She spoke of characters that Bob knew nothing of and was surprised at his frank acknowledgment of ignorance.
"A young man of your standing can't afford not to know that character," she said. "Society demands it of you, and I believe I would pretend to know," she added, laughing.
"We always meet society's demands when we pretend," he replied. "People don't ask us to know a thing but to assume that we know it and not get caught. I haven't had time to sip negus," he went on after a pause; "I have been too busy with drinking a stronger draught. I sit in the glow of the great books, but pass by the little twinkling lights, for I know that soon they must go out."
"Or, in other words," she spoke up, "you tread upon a snow-drop while gazing at a sun-flower."
This remark, and I acknowledge its aptness, was so pleasing to her that she laughed the music of self-compliment;and the lambs in the grass-land lifted their noses out of the sweet tangle of clover to look at her. I was so close that when she leaned back once a wayward wisp of her hair swept across my face, more like a breath than a tangible touch, it was so silken and soft. I studied the almost imperceptible grain of her pink, plush skin, I was so near her, and yet to me she was so strangely unreal. To look upon her surely was a delight, but turning away and shutting my eyes to recall her features, she seemed a memory far off and shadowy. I could have given her a sort of worship, the romantic adoration compelled by a naiad reposing on a moss-bank at the source of a tinkling stream, but I could not have felt for her the surging passion of a human love. There was nothing supernatural in her grace; in her movement there was the soft and unconscious suppression of a cat's agility; and her bosom bespoke a strong instinct of motherhood, and yet to me she was vaguely unnatural. She was wanting in heart.
A powerful love looks upon itself as hopeless; upon it must be thrown that sort of a light, to complete its deliciousness; and I saw that my master's love was powerful, but I could not see that it was hopeless. She might never give him a woman's completedevotion, I argued, for I did not believe that her nature could comprehend his finer forces, but I felt that she would give him her hand and what she supposed to be her heart.
"Do you mean to surrender your life wholly to law books?" she asked, giving him a glance in which I could see a charming fear.
"Oh, no. To my mind a law book without poetry behind it is a heap of helpless dust. At first I must agree to take almost any case that may chance to come along, but after a while I will scorn all but the causes that admit of an orator's effort."
"Oh, that will be lovely!" she cried. "And to think that you entertain yourself and then get pay for it. However, if I were a man, I think I would be a preacher. Preachers are nearly always so nice and clean and they say such pretty things to women."
"It was my mother's ambition that I should be a preacher, and I'm sorry now that I did not gratify it," he said.
"Oh, charming of you to say so, Mr. Gradley. You see I don't let such a compliment get away from me. I might have pretended not to see it, and—and I believe I would if I had thought a moment. Then I could have made you repeat it. But really it isbetter for you to be a lawyer than a preacher. You have so much fire. Everybody says you are going to make your mark, and when you got into that trouble lately some one said it would ruin you, but father said it wouldn't. He killed a man once. Why, people have to kill men who try to kill them, don't they? But we won't talk about that. Are you going to the pic-nic over at Fletcher's Grove?"
"I hadn't thought about it. Are you going?"
"I don't know, but I'd like to, ever so much."
"Then go with me."
"Oh, that would be delightful, and I will be ready when you call for me. Do you dance?"
"I think," said he, "that I might have courage enough to rob a stage-coach or to fight a duel in a dark room, but I'm afraid that I couldn't summon the nerve to get out before a number of people and try to dance."
"Oh, you wouldn't mind it at all. Just as soon as the music strikes up you forget all about yourself. But isn't it dull about here? Nothing to do but to sit about and wait. Last year I visited an aunt who lives in Connecticut, and I had such a nice time. Everyone there is so active. But, after all, I was kept angry a good deal over the negro question. I neverdid get so tired of hearing a subject dinged upon. They hate us and can't help showing it; and they actually believe that one of these days they'll come down here, and, as they express it, turn the negroes loose. They believe we keep them chained together all the time; and that hateful book, 'Uncle Tom's Cabin,' is their bible. Have you ever seen it?"
"My uncle brought a copy with him and I read it," Bob answered. "I don't care for its principles, whether they are true or false—literature being its own principle—but to me it bears the mark of a political pamphlet that has happened to make a hit, strong with prejudice but hasty and slip-shod in expression. To me there is no art in it, no imagination but all sermon. The characters are unreal, standing in the light of a red fire; they are talking-machines, grinding out music-box melodies, set homilies; but the subject is powerful and the book needs no art to give it force. And many a year will pass before we hear the last of it."
"Why, Mr. Gradley, you can take an interest in light books after all. I was afraid that you were determined to keep yourself chained to the venerable masters of—of—what shall I say?—venerable masters of profound thought. That will do, won't it?"
"Very appropriate, I assure you, but 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' can scarcely be classed as a light book. It comes in a light garb but its nature is most serious."
The horse shied at a piece of paper fluttering in the road, and with a little scream she seized the lines. He asked her if she would give them back when she should find that no longer was there any danger, and laughing rhythmically and with blushes she returned the lines to him.
"No, apology and no embarrassment," said he. "It came of woman's instinctive sense of protection, of her responsibility at a time of peril."
"Now you are making fun of me, Mr. Gradley. Oh, boy (turning to look at me). What's his name? Dan? Oh, yes. How's my horse coming on, Dan? Well, for pity's sake, if he hasn't turned him loose."
The horse was grazing some distance down the road, and without waiting to beg pardon for my stupid neglect of the charge intrusted to me, I jumped down to run after him. Master and the young woman did not wait for me, but drove to Miss Potter's home, now but a short distance away. As I came up leading the horse toward the gate, where master and Miss Potter were standing, old man Potter came walking out. He was effusive in his welcome, swearing upon his lifethat never was he gladder to see a man. "Ah," he said, looking at me, "and this here is the boy that we all have heard such a good report about. A likely young feller, Mr. Gradley, and I don't reckon you'd care to sell him."
"No, sir," said Bob, assuming to be gentle but looking his contempt for the coarse old fellow. But Mr. Potter could interpret no looks of contempt; he was too busy surveying me from head to foot.
"Yes, reckon you do think a good deal of him, and I wouldn't wonder but it would take a right putty piece of money to buy him."
"I could not be induced to part with him, sir," master replied.
"Yes, sir, got a right to think a good deal of him. Goin' to learn him any sort of trade? Strong enough to make a good blacksmith. Owned one about like him once. Swapped him for a woman and a child."
"Why, father," the daughter spoke up, "Dan is Mr. Gradley's body servant."
"Yes, I know," said the old fellow, his cold and speculative eye still bent upon me, "but it wouldn't be out of the way to learn him how to do something. Comes in mighty handy sometimes and we never can tell what mout happen."
The girl winced at the word "mout," unmistakable symbol of the white trash, and smiling to cut a blush in two, she said: "You observe, Mr. Gradley, that father doesn't care how he talks. He fell into the habit of imitating a queer old fellow who lived near us and now he does it unintentionally. Let us go into the house?"
"Yes, come on," old Potter joined in. "Jest as cheap inside as out, and it ain't as tiresome settin' as standin'. Boy, (giving his eye to me again) go round to the kitchen and tell them to give you something to eat."
"We haven't time to stop," Bob interposed. "We expect several friends at dinner, and—"
"Jest as well eat a snack with us," the old fellow broke in. "Jest as cheap and it won't take nigh so long. I reckon I've got as fine a piece of mutton as you ever set your teeth on—sheep that I didn't want to part with but an infernal dog came along this morning and grabbed him and cut his throat as slick as a whistle—and we know how to cook mutton at our house. Come on."
He continued to urge his hospitality, and to praise the sheep that had been killed by a dog, and the girl pleaded with her eyes; and I thought that Bob wouldwaver, he smiled so and bowed so many times, but in the end he was firm, and bade me turn the buggy around. Even then, with his foot on the step, he lingered to speak another word, though never seeming to utter what came into his mind. At last we drove away, and the moment my back was turned, the girl was only a shadow lying across my memory; and it worried me. I could look at as delicate a thing as a flower and in my mind could reproduce its form and its hue, but that woman was a blur to her own image.