CHAPTER XV
CAPTAIN MIDDLETON HAS A TEST OF PEACE, AND IS ORDERED WEST
The next day there was much stir in the county, at least about thecourt-house, and it was known that Middleton had summoned Leech beforehim and had had an interview with him, which rumor said was stormy, andthat it had ended by the Provost being sent to his room, it was said,under arrest.
So much was certain, Middleton after this took charge of matters whichup to this time Leech had been attending to, and Leech remained outof sight until he left the place, which he did two days later. One ofthe first steps Middleton took was to summon the negroes before himand give them a talk. And he closed his speech by a warning that theyshould keep order wherever they were, declaring, that if there were anyrepetition of Moses’s performance of the previous night the offenderwould not escape so easily.
The effect of his act was admirable. By nightfall nearly every negrowho was not employed about the county seat had left, and within twodays many of them were at work, back at their old homes.
Middleton found himself suddenly as popular as he had formerly beenunpopular, receiving visits and invitations from half the gentlemen inthe place, so that Thurston said it was just the old story: he set thetriggers and worked everything, and Middleton just walked in and tookthe game.
“Here I have been working like a nigger,” he said to Middleton,“watching around and following that fellow Leech in all his rascality;displaying the most consummate qualities of leadership, and singing myhead off, and you happen to come along, pick up a driver’s whip andlet into a drunken rascal, talk a lot of rot next morning, and in fiveminutes do what I with all my genius haven’t been able to do in as manymonths. It’s the old story, Larry, it’s fate! What did I tell you? Longlegs are worth more to a man than a long head. But, Larry, look outfor Leech. He’s a blood-sucker. Tra-la; I have an engagement. Mightas well get some of the good of your glory, old man, while it lasts,you know. Beauty fadeth as a flower.” And leaving Middleton over hisreport, the cheery little Lieutenant went off to have a ride with MissDockett, who, in view of certain professions of his and proceedings ofhis Captain’s the night before, had honored him so far as to vouchsafehim that privilege.
Reely Thurston’s half humorous warning to his friend was not withoutfoundation, as both he and Middleton knew, and within a week theCaptain was up to his ears in reports and correspondence relative tohis conduct in the county.
The quietness of everything around him was a fact to which he pointedwith pride; the restoration of order throughout the county was a proofof the wisdom of his course. Crime had diminished; order had beenrestored; good feeling had grown up; the negroes had returned to work,and were getting regular wages. They were already beginning to save alittle and some were buying land. The whites had accepted the status ofaffairs in good faith and were, he believed, turning all their energiesto meet the exigencies of the time in the best way they could. In aword, peace was fully restored in the territory under his command. Hecongratulated himself that he was able to state a condition of affairsso entirely in accord with the observation of the commander-in-chief ofthe armies, who about that time visited the State and made a similarreport on it. Even Reely Thurston commended Middleton’s report, andconfided to Miss Dockett, who was beginning to receive such confidencesmore graciously of late, that “Larry had somewhere, in that high headof his, a deuced lot of brains,” a compliment which the young Captainwould have taken more gratefully from him than from any other soul onearth.
Another cause of content was just then beginning to have its effect onMiddleton. Miss Cary was beginning to treat him with some degree ofChristian charity, and actually condescended to take a ride with him onhorseback, and when he proved himself sufficiently appreciative of thishonor, took another.
So things went, and before the summer evenings were over, the youngCaptain had ridden to the point where he had given Blair Cary all theconfidences which a young man in his twenties is likely to give theprettiest girl in his circle of acquaintance, especially when sheis the only one whose eyes soften a little at the recital, and whoresponds a bit by giving just a little of her own. Not that Miss Caryfor a moment allowed Middleton to forget that on the one great subjectalways present, the world stretched between them. They were enemies.Between them there was never more than a truce. She would be his friendwhile it lasted; but never more. That was all! Her skirmish-line, so tospeak, exchanged courtesies with his; but, on the first suggestion of asignal, sprang to her rifle-pits.
She always wore, when she rode, a gray cap, which Middleton, withoutasking any questions, knew had been her brother’s. It was a badge,and the young man recognized it as such. She still wore her brassbuttons, and would never give him one of them. One afternoon, as theywere returning from a ride in which he had told her all about RuthWelch, dwelling somewhat on their cousinship, they stopped at the fordwhere he had gone to Blair’s rescue the day her horse fell, and heasked her casually if she would give him one of the buttons to savehis life. She quietly said “No,” and he believed her. Yet this madelittle difference to the young man. He was not in love with her, hewas sure. He only enjoyed her. And the summer evenings which he spentat Birdwood, or riding with her through the arching woods, were thepleasantest he had ever known. As they watered their horses at the fordthat afternoon no less than four other couples came riding up on theirway home, and there was quite a little levee held in the limpid stream,Middleton finding himself taken into the talk and raillery quite as amember of the circle. The far-off call of ploughmen to their teams inthe low-grounds of Red Rock and the distant lowing of cattle in thepastures came muffled on the soft air, while a woodlark in the woodsalong the waterside sang its brilliant song to its tardy mate with atriumph born only of security and peace. As Captain Middleton lookedat the faded gray coats and his blue one, the numbers doubled by thereflection in the placid stream, and listened to the laughter abouthim, he could not but think what a picture and proof of peace it was.And Miss Cary was the prettiest girl in the party.
Suddenly one of the horses became restive, and slashed away at thenearest horse to him. Blair, in pulling her horse out of the way, gotunder an overhanging bough and her cap was knocked from her head intothe water. She gave a little cry of dismay as it floated down thestream, and at her call more than one of the young men turned his horseto recover the cap; but Middleton was nearest, and he spurred straightinto the deep water below the ledge and swam for the cap, reachingit just before the others got it. He was pleased at the applause hereceived when he returned.
Miss Cary only said “thank you,” as she might have said it if he hadpicked the cap from the floor.
Not all the county people, however, acquiesced so entirely in receivingMiddleton on so friendly a basis; some did not see why a Yankee officershould be taken up as a friend.
There was one young man who did not appreciate at least Middleton’smode of exhibiting his friendliness. Steve and Middleton had becomevery good friends; but Jacquelin Gray, as jealous as Othello, grew moreand more reserved toward the young officer, and began to give himselfmany airs about his attentions to Blair Cary. If anything, this onlyincited Blair to show Middleton greater favor, and at last the younglady gave Jacquelin to understand that she intended to do just as shepleased and did not propose to be held accountable by him for anythingwhatever.
The evening of the ride on which Blair lost her cap and Middletonrecovered it for her, Jacquelin had driven over “to see the doctor,”he said, and found her gone off with Middleton. As Dr. Cary was away,visiting his patients, which Jacquelin might have known, and Mrs. Carywas confined to her room that day, Jacquelin was left to himself andhad plenty of time as he sat on the porch all alone, to chew the cud ofbitter fancy, and reflect on the caprices of a part of the human race.He was not much consoled when Mammy Krenda came out and, with kindlysympathy, said:
“You too late—you better make haste an’ git off dem crutches, honey,and git ’pon horseback. Crutches can’t keep up with hor
ses.” Shedisappeared within and Jacquelin was left in a flame of jealousy. Bythe time Blair arrived he was in just the state of mind to make a foolof himself. When Jacquelin began the interview, he, perhaps, had noidea of going as far as his heat carried him; but unhappily he lost hishead—or as much of a head as a man can have who is deeply in love and,having gone to see his sweetheart, finds her off riding with a rival.
It was quite dusk when the riders rode slowly up the avenue. Theystopped at the gate, and Jacquelin could hear Blair’s cordialinvitation to her companion to come in and take supper with them.Middleton declined.
“But I’m afraid you will catch cold, riding so far in wet clothes,” sheurged. He, however, had to return immediately, he declared, and aftera few more words he galloped off, while Blair came on to the house.
“Why, Jacquelin! You here all by yourself!” she exclaimed. She bentover him quickly to prevent his rising for her. Had Jacquelin been coolenough to note her voice it might have saved him; but he was not evenlooking at her. His manner hauled her up short, and the next instanthers had changed. She seated herself and tried for a few moments to belight and divert him. She told of the episode at the ford. Jacquelin,however, was not to be diverted, and, taking the silence whichpresently fell on her for a confession, he began to assume a boldertone, and proceeded to take her to task for her conduct.
“It was an outrage—an outrage on—Steve. It was shameful,” he said,“that with such a man as Steve offering his heart to her, she should beboldly encouraging a Yankee officer, so that everybody in the countywas talking about it.” It was when he said it was an outrage on Stevethat the explosion came. Blair was on her feet in a second.
“Jacquelin!” she exclaimed, with a gasp. The next second she had foundher voice. He had never seen her as she became. It was a new Blairstanding above him, tall and straight in the dusk, her frame trembling,her voice vibrating. She positively flamed with indignation, notbecause of the charge, but against him for making it.
“Whose business is it?” she asked him, with glowing cheeks and flashingeyes. If her father and mother did not object, had he a right tointerfere? If Steve were not satisfied, could not he take care ofhimself? Who had given him such a right? And before Jacquelin couldrecover from his surprise, she had burst into tears and rushed into thehouse.
Jacquelin drove home in black despair. He had been put wholly in thewrong, and yet he felt that he had had right originally on his side.His whole past appeared suddenly rooted up; his whole future destroyedby this new-comer, this hostile interloper. How he would love to havesome cause of personal quarrel with him! How gladly he would put it allto the test of one meeting. Yet what had Middleton done but win fairly!and he had been a gentleman always. Jacquelin was forced to admitthis. But oh! if he only had a just cause of quarrel! Let him lookout hereafter. But—if he were to meet him and he should fall, whatwould be the consequence? He would only have ruined Blair’s happinessand have destroyed his only hope. He almost ground his teeth at hishelplessness as he drove home through the dusk. He did not know thatat that moment Blair Cary, with locked door, was sobbing in her littlewhite-curtained room, her anger no longer turned against him, butagainst herself.
When Jacquelin awoke the next morning it was with a sinking at theheart. Blair was lost to him forever. Daylight, however, is a greatrestorer of courage, and, little by little, his spirits revived, untilby evening he began to consider himself a most ill-used person, andto fancy Blair suing for pardon. He even found himself nursing anidea that she would write a note; but instead of that, he heard thatMiddleton had been up to see her again, and once more his heart sankand his anger rose. He would show her that he was not to be trampled onand insulted as she had done.
When Middleton arrived at the court-house the afternoon of his ride, hefound an order transferring his company to a frontier post in the farNorthwest. They were to leave immediately.
The same train by which the old company was to go was to bring itssuccessor.
The afternoon before his company left, Middleton rode up to Birdwood.He had given no one any notice, and he arrived unexpectedly. No one wasin sight. The lawn appeared as deserted as if it were in the heart of awilderness. The trees were as quiet as if Nature herself were asleep,and the sound of a dove cooing far down in the grove only intensifiedthe quietude. Tying his horse, Middleton walked up through the grove.As he passed along he happened to cast his eyes in the direction ofthe little double building, which was off to one side at some distanceback of the dwelling, and seeing the old mammy enter one of the doorshe turned that way, thinking that she might come out, and he would askif the family were at home. He stopped in front of the nearest door andlooked in. It was the kitchen, and he was facing, not the mammy—who asa matter of fact, had entered another door—but Miss Cary herself. Shewas dressed in a white dress, and her skirt was turned back and pinnedabout her slender waist; her sleeves were rolled up, showing her round,white arms. She was busy with a bread-tray. Middleton would have drawnback, but Blair looked up and their eyes met. There was a moment ofhalf embarrassment, and Middleton was about to draw back and apologizefor his intrusion, but before he could do so she came forward, smiling.
“Won’t you come in?” she said, “or will you walk into the house?” Thecolor had mounted to her cheeks, and the half mocking smile had still alittle embarrassment in it; but Middleton thought she had never lookedso charming. His heart gave a bound.
“Can you doubt what I will do?” He stepped over the high threshold.“Even if I be but scullion——”
“You must have been taking lessons from the General. Here—no one wasever allowed in here who would not work.” She gave him a rolling-pin,and he set to work with it industriously.
“This comes of your doing,” she said, still smiling. “I am the onlycook left. Why don’t you detail me one? If you were worth a button youwould.”
“How would I do?” hazarded Middleton. “I’m a pretty good cook.”
“Aunt Betty wouldn’t have let you come into the kitchen if you handledyour rolling-pin that way. Let me show you.”
“Which is the best argument yet for the change of cooks,” saidMiddleton, guilefully holding the rolling-pin more and more awkwardly,for the very pleasure of being set right by her. “Now, don’t you thinkI am worth a button?”
“No, but you may learn.”
“Unfortunately, I am going away.”
“Are you?—When are you coming back?”—A polite little tone coming intoher voice.
“Never.” He tried to say it as indifferently as he had said it inpractising when he rode up, which he liked better than the tragic“NEVER!” which he had first proposed to himself; and all the time hewas watching her out of the tail of his eye. She said nothing, and hefelt a little disappointed.
“We are ordered away—” he began. She was busying herself aboutsomething. But he was sure she had heard. “—to the Northwest to keepthe Indians down,” he proceeded.
“Oh!” She turned quickly toward him, and their eyes met.
“Well, I hope you’ll be as successful and find your task as pleasantthere as you have here.” Her head had gone up, as it did on the verandathe night of the ball.
“I do not appear to have been particularly successful here,” Middletonbegan, banteringly, then walked over to her side. “Miss Cary, do youthink I have really enjoyed my task here?”
“Why—yes,” she began; then she glanced up and found him grave. “Idon’t know—I thought——”
“No,” said Middleton, “you did not.”
Just at that moment a shadow fell across the light, and Mammy Krendastood in the door.
“Well—I declare!” she exclaimed, with well-feigned astonishment. “Whatin the worl’ air you doin’ in this kitchen?”
They both thought she was addressing Middleton, and he began tostammer a reply; but it was her young mistress whose presence thereappeared to scandalize the old woman.
“Don’t you know you ain’ got no business in he
ah? I can’t turn my backto git nothin’, but what you come interferin’ wid my things. Go rightin de house dis minute and put yo’ nice clo’es on. I air really ashamedo’ you to let a gent—a—anybody see you dat way.” She was pushingBlair out gently. “I don’ know what she air doin’ in heah,” she said toMiddleton, addressing him for the first time, and with some disdain inher manner, as if she wished him to understand that he had no businessthere either.
As Blair passed him on her way out she said to him in a whisper, with alow laugh:
“That’s a yarn. I do nearly all the cooking since our cook went off,but she thinks it’s beneath my dignity to be caught at it.”
They did not go into the house, but walked over through the grove andsat down on the grass on the farther slope overlooking the rollinglands, with the blue spurs in the distance. There Middleton threwhimself at Blair’s feet. He had made up his mind to stake all before heleft. As the old mammy passed from the kitchen to the house she made alittle detour and cast a glance through the grove. The glint of a whitedress through the trees caught her eye, and she gave a little sniff asshe went on.
An hour later, Middleton, his face as grave as it had ever been inbattle, mounted his horse and rode away without returning to the house,and Blair Cary walked back through the grove alone. She turned acrossto the smaller house which the old mammy occupied. It was empty, andshe entered and flung herself on the snowy counterpaned bed.
The old woman came in a moment later. She gave the girl a swift glance,and, turning to the window, dropped the white curtain to shut out theslanting afternoon sun.
“‘Taint no use to ’sturb yo’self, honey; he ain’ gone.” she said,sympathizingly. “He comin’ back jest so sho’ as I live.”
“He _has_ gone,” said Blair, suddenly, with some vehemence. “I havesent him away. I wish he had never come.” But was she thinking ofMiddleton?
The old woman had turned and was looking down at her from where shestood.
“An’ I glad you is,” she said. “I ain’t like Yankees, no way. Dat deahLeech man——”
“Mammy,” said Blair, rising, “I do not wish you to speak so of agentleman—who—who has been our guest.”
“Yes, honey, dat’s so,” said the old woman, simply, without the leastsurprise. “Mammy, won’t say no more about him. What I got to do widabusin’ a gent’man, nohow!”
“Oh! Mammy!” said the girl, throwing her arms about her, and the oldwoman only said:
“Yes, honey—yes—yes. But don’t you pester yoreself. ’T’ll all comeright.”
Next evening the news that Middleton and his company were ordered awaywas known. Jacquelin was conscious of his heart giving a bound of joy.He would be only cool and chilling to Blair and show her by his mannerhow disapprovingly he regarded her conduct. After a little, this moodchanged and he began to think it would be more manly to be only verydignified and yet show her that he was above harboring little feelings.He would be generous and forgive her. When, however, he met Blair, shewas so far from showing any contrition, that she was actually savageto him; so that instead of having an opportunity to display his loftyfeelings, Jacquelin found himself thrown into a situation of thestrongest hostility to her, and after a lifetime of friendship theyscarcely spoke. Their friends tried to patch up the quarrel, but invain. Jacquelin felt himself now really aggrieved, and Blair declinedto allow even the mention of him. Her severity toward him was almostincomprehensible.
Red Rock: A Chronicle of Reconstruction Page 18
