CHAPTER XXXVI
MR. STILL OFFERS A COMPROMISE, AND A BLUFF
The term approached at which the Red Rock suit was to be tried, andboth parties made preparations for it. A number of the prominentmembers of the Bar had volunteered as Jacquelin’s counsel. They knewthe character of the new judge, Bail, and they considered Jacquelin’scause that of every man in the State. Leech, on his side, hadassociated with him as counsel for Still several lawyers of well-knownability, if of less recognized integrity; and Major Welch had retainedold Mr. Bagby to represent his interest. As the term drew near, Stillapplied to Mr. Bagby to represent him too. The old lawyer declined. Theinterest of his client, Major Welch, might in some way conflict, thoughhe could not see how; in a way he already represented Still, since toprotect his client he had to look after Still’s title also. “Besides,Still already had lawyers enough to ruin his case,” he said, “and hewould charge him a big fee.” But these reasons were not sufficient forStill. He wished Mr. Bagby to represent him. He told him Leech hademployed those others; but he wanted a man he knew. “There wasn’t a manin the State could carry a jury like Mr. Bagby, and he did not mind thefee.”
Flattery is a key that fits many locks. So the old lawyer consented,after consulting Major Welch, and notifying Still that if at any timeor at any point in the case he found his interest conflicting withMajor Welch’s he would give him up. Still grew more anxious and soughtso many interviews with the old counsellor that finally his patiencewore out, and he gave his new client to understand that he had otherbusiness, and if he wanted so much of his time he must increase hisfees. Still consented even to this, with the effect of arousingsuspicion on the old lawyer’s part that there must be something in hisclient’s case which he did not understand. “Something in it he has notlet out,” reflected the old lawyer. “I must get at it.”
Not very long after this arrangement, Still asked Mr. Bagby to comeand see him at his home on business of great importance, alleging asa reason for his not going to see Mr. Bagby that he was too unwellto travel. The note for some reason offended Mr. Bagby. However, ashe had to go to Major Welch’s that night, he rode by Red Rock to seeStill. He found him in a state of great anxiety and nervousness. Stillwent over the same ground that he had been over with him alreadyseveral times; wanted to know what he thought of the bill, and of theGrays’ chances of success. The old lawyer frowned. Up to the time ofbeginning a suit he was ready to be doubtful, prudent, cautious, evenanxious, in advising; but the fight once begun he was in it to the end;doubt disappeared; defeat was not among the possibilities. It was anintellectual contest and he rejoiced in it; put into it every nerve andevery power he possessed, and was ready to trample down every adversaryfrom the sheriff who served the writ, to the Supreme Court itself. Sonow, when Still, almost at the entrance of the term, was whimpering asto his chances, the old lawyer answered him with scant courtesy.
“The bill? I think the same of it I thought when you asked mebefore; that it is a good bill in certain respects and a poor one inothers;—good as to your accounts showing rents and profits, and toogeneral as to the bonds. It’s a good thing you got hold of so much ofGray’s paper. I knew he was a free liver and a careless man; but I hadno idea he owed so much money.” He was speaking rather to himself.
“What do you mean?” faltered Still, his face flushing and then growingpale.
“That if they can prove what they allege about the crops in the yearsjust before and after the war, they’ll sweep you for rents and profits,and you’ll need the bonds.” He reflected for a minute, then looked atStill.
“Mr. Still, tell me exactly how you came by that big bond.” He shut hiseyes to listen, so did not see the change that came over his client’sface.
“What’d you think of a compromise?” asked Still, suddenly.
“Have they offered one?”
“Well, not exactly,” said Still, who was lying; “but I know they’d liketo make one. What’d you think of our kind of broaching the subject?”
“What! You? After that bill aspersing your character!” He lookedat Still keenly. “Do as you please! But Major Welch will offerno compromise.” He rose and walked off from Still for a moment,formulating in his mind some sentence that would relieve him from hisrelation of counsel to him. It was the first time he had been in thehouse since Still’s occupancy; and as he paced across the hall, thepictures lining the walls arrested his attention, and he began toexamine them. He stopped in front of the “Indian-killer,” and gazed atit attentively.
“Astonishingly like him!” he muttered, musingly; and then after anotherlook he asked, “Do you know whether there really was a cabinet behindthat picture or not?” Still did not answer, but his face turned asudden white. The old lawyer had his back to him. He stepped up nearerthe picture and began to examine the frame more closely. “I believethere is,” he said, musingly. “Yes, that red paint goes under.” He tookout a large pocket-knife. “Those nails are loose. I believe I’ll see.”He inserted the blade of his knife and began to prize at the frame.“My G—d! don’t do that!” exclaimed Still; and, giving a bound, heseized the old lawyer’s arm.
The latter turned on him in blank amazement. Still’s face was as whiteas death.
“What in the d—l is the matter with you?” demanded Mr. Bagby.
“Don’t! for God’s sake!” stammered Still, and staggered into a chair,the perspiration standing out on his forehead.
“What’s the matter with you, man?” Mr. Bagby poured out a glass ofwhiskey from a decanter on the table and gave it to him. The liquorrevived him, and in a moment he began to talk.
It was nothing, he said, with a ghastly attempt at a smile. He had oflate been having a sort of spells; had not been sleeping well—his sonwas giving him some physic for it; ’twas a sort of nervousness, and hesupposed he just had one, and couldn’t help thinking of that story ofthe picture coming down always meaning bad luck, and the story of theold fellow being seen on horseback at night. Some of the niggers hadbeen saying that he had been seen at night once or twice lately ridingaround, and he supposed that had got in his mind. But of course hedidn’t believe any such lies as that.
“I hope not,” sniffed the old lawyer. He rose and took up his hat andsaddle-bags. Still urged him to stay; he had had his horse put in thestable and fed; but Mr. Bagby said he must go, he wished to see MajorWelch. He had made up his mind that he would not remain in the caseas Still’s counsel. He could not get over the feeling that there wassomething in Still’s case which Still had not confided to him, or theidea of his wishing to compromise after a charge of fraud; and therough way in which Still had seized his arm and had spoken to him hadoffended him. So he would not be his guest. He told Still that he feltthat he could not act further as his counsel, in association with hisother counsel. Again Still’s face blanched. He offered to throw themall over—except Leech. He was obliged to keep Leech; but the others hewould let go. This, however, Mr. Bagby would not hear of.
As it was late, and the servants had retired, Still walked with Mr.Bagby to the stable to get his horse. He continued to urge him toremain in the suit as his counsel. But the old lawyer was firm.
As they approached the stables there came to them from the field overbeyond the gardens and toward Major Welch’s the distant neigh of ahorse. Still clutched Mr. Bagby’s arm.
“My G—d! did you hear that?”
“What? Yes—one of your horses over in your pasture?”
“No, there ain’t no horses over in that field, or in a field betweenhere and Stamper’s house. It’s all in crop. That’s over toward thegrave-yard.”
“Oh! the d—l!” the old man exclaimed, impatiently.
But Still seized him.
“Look! Look yonder!” he gasped. The lawyer looked, and at the momentthe outline of a man on horseback was clearly defined against theskyline on the crest of a hill. How far away it was he could not tell;but apparently it was just behind the dark clump of trees where lay theold Gray burying-ground.
The next second the moon was shrouded and thehorseman faded out.
When Mr. Bagby reached Major Welch’s, the latter came out to meet him:he had sat up for him.
“I thought you had come a half-hour ago. I fancied I heard your horseneigh,” he said.
As he went to call a servant, he picked up from a small side-porch aparcel wrapped around with paper. He took it in to the light. It was alarge bunch of jonquils, addressed to Ruth.
“Ah!” thought the old lawyer, with a chuckle, “that is what our ghostlyhorseman was doing.”
The next morning, when Major Welch and his guest came to breakfast,the table was already decorated with jonquils, which were lighting itup with their golden glow; and one or two of them were pinned on MissRuth’s dainty white dress.
Both Major Welch and the guest remarked on the beauty of the flowers,and the Major mentioned his surprise that Ruth should have left themout on the porch overnight. The remark was quite casual, and the Majorwas not looking at Ruth at the moment; but the old lawyer was looking,and his eyes twinkled as he noticed the deep color that rushed up intothe girl’s cheeks. No age is too great to be stirred by the sight of aromance, and the old fellow’s countenance softened as he looked at theyoung girl.
“Lucky dog,” he thought, “that night rider! I wonder who he is? I’dgive my fee in this case to be able to call up that blush. I rememberdoing that same thing once—forty odd years ago. The flowers faded, andthe girl—My dear, will you give me one of those jonquils?” he brokeoff, suddenly, addressing Ruth. Ruth, with a smile, pinned it on him,and the old man wore it with as proud a mien as he had ever had after asuccessful verdict.
The apparition was too much for Hiram Still. A few days after hisinterview with Mr. Bagby, Still, without consulting any of his counsel,took the step on his own account which he had suggested to the lawyer.If it went through, he could put it on the ground of friendship forJacquelin’s father. He selected his opportunity.
Steve Allen was away that day and Jacquelin Gray was sitting in hisoffice alone, when there was a heavy, slow step outside and, after amoment’s interval, a knock at the door. “Come in,” Jacquelin called;and the door opened slowly and Hiram Still walked half-way in andstopped doubtfully. He was pale, and a simper was on his face.Jacquelin did not stir. His face flushed slightly.
“Good-mornin’, Mr. Jacquelin,” said the visitor, in his mostinsinuating tone.
“What do you want?” Jacquelin asked, coldly.
“Mr. Jacquelin, I thought I’d come and see you when you was by yourselflike, and see if me and you couldn’t come to a understandin’ about oursuit.”
Jacquelin was so taken by surprise that he did not try to answerimmediately, and Still took it for assent and moved a step farther intothe room.
“I don’t want no lawyers between us; we’re old friends. I ain’t gotnothin’ against you, and you ain’t got nothin’ against me; and I don’twant no trouble or nothin’. Your father was the best friend I everhad; and I jist thought I’d come like a friend, and see if we couldn’tsettle things like old friends—kind of compromise, kind o’——?” Hewaved his hands expressively.
Jacquelin found his voice.
“Get out,” he said, quietly, with a sudden paling of his face. Still’sjaw dropped. Jacquelin rose to his feet, a gleam in his eyes.
“Get out.” There was a ring in his voice, and he took a step towardStill. But Still did not wait. He turned quickly and rushed out of theroom, never stopping until he had got out of the court-green.
He went to the bar of the tavern and ordered two drinks in rapidsuccession.
“D—n him!” he said, as he drained off his glass the second time. “Ifhe had touched me I’d have shot him.”
“You’re lookin’ sort o’ puny these days. Been sick?” the man at the barasked.
“Yes—no—I don’ know,” said Still, gruffly. He went up and looked athimself in a small fly-speckled, tin-like mirror on the wall. “I ain’tbeen so mighty well.”
“Been ridin’ pretty hard lately ’bout your suit, I reckon?” said thebar-keeper.
“I don’ know. I ain’t afeared ’bout it. If they choose to fling awaymoney tryin’ to beat me out o’ my property, I’ve got about as much asthey have, I reckon.”
“I reckon you have.” The man’s manner was so dry that Still cut hiseye at him. “Why don’t you try him with a compromise?” Still looked athim sharply; but he was washing a glass, and his face was as impassiveas a mask.
“D—n him! I wouldn’t compromise with him to save his life,” saidStill. “D’ you think I’d compromise with a man as is aspersed mycharacter?”
“I d’n’ know. I hear there’s to be a jury; and I always heard, ifthere’s one thing the L—d don’ know, it’s how a jury’s goin’ todecide.”
“I ain’t afeared of _that_ jury,” said Still, on whom the whiskey wasworking. “I’ve got——” He caught a look of sharpness on the man’s faceand changed. “I ain’t afeared o’ no jury—that jury or no other. And Iain’t afeared o’ Jacquelin Gray nor Mr. Steve Allen neither. I ain’tafeared o’ no man as walks.”
“How about them as rides?” asked the bar-keeper, dryly.
The effect was electric.
“What d’you know about them as rides?” asked Still, surlily, his facepale.
“Nothin’ but what I hear. I hear they’s been a rider seen roun’ RedRock of nights, once or twice lately, ain’t nobody caught up with.”
“Some o’ these scoundrels been a tryin’ to skeer me,” said Still, withan affectation of indifference. “But they don’t know me. I’ll try how abullet’ll act on ’em next time I see one of ’em.”
“I would,” said the bar-keeper. “You’se seen him, then? I heard youhad.”
Hiram saw that he had been trapped into an admission. Before he couldanswer, the man went on:
“They say down this away it means something’s goin’ to happen. How’sthat old picture been standing of late?”
Still burst out in a rage, declaring that it had been standing allright, and would continue to stand till every man against him was inthe hottest region his imagination could picture. It seemed to him,he said, that everybody in the County was in league against him. Thebar-keeper heard him unmoved; but, when his customer left, he closedhis door and sauntered over to the office of Allen and Gray.
When Steve returned next day, Jacquelin told him of the interview withStill. Steve’s eyes lit up.
“By Jove! It means there’s something we don’t know! What did you do?”
“Threatened to kick him out of the room.”
“I supposed so. But, do you know, Jack,” he said, after a moment’sreflection, “I am not sure you did right? As a man I feel just as youdid; but as a lawyer I think we should try and compromise. The caseas it stands is a doubtful one on the law; but what show do we standbefore his new judge. You know he is hand in glove with them, and theysay was appointed to try this very case. Remember, there is Rupert.”
“I tell you what I will do,” said Jacquelin, “and it is the onlycompromise I will make. You can go to him and say I will agree todismiss the case. If he will give Rupert the full half of the place,including the house, and me the grave-yard and Birdwood, with threehundred acres of land, I will dismiss the suit. You can go to him andsay so. It will still leave him more than the value of Birdwood.”
“Birdwood! What do you want with Bird——?” asked Steve, in amazement;but at the moment his eye rested on Jacquelin’s face. Jacquelin wasblushing. “Oho!” he exclaimed. “I see.”
“Not at all!” said Jacquelin. “I have no hope whatever. Everything hasgone wrong with me. I feel as if as soon as I am interested, the verylaws of nature become reversed!”
“Nonsense! The laws of nature are never reversed!” exclaimed Steve.“It’s nothing but our infernal stupidity or weakness. Have you eversaid anything to her since?”
“No, I am done. She’s an iceberg.”
“Iceberg? When I saw her she wa
s a volcano. Besides, ice melts,” saidSteve, sententiously. “I’m engaged in the process myself.”
Jacquelin could not talk lightly of Blair, and he rose and quietlywalked out of the office. As his footsteps died away, Steve sat back inhis chair and fell into a reverie, induced by Jacquelin’s words and hisreply.
Jacquelin had just left the office when there was a step outside, and aknock so timid that Steve felt sure that it must be a woman. He calledto the person to come in; the knock, however, was repeated; so Stevecalled out more loudly. The door opened slowly, and a young coloredwoman put her head in and surveyed the office carefully. “Is dat you,Marse Steve?” she asked, and inserted her whole body. Then turning herback on Steve, she shut the door.
Steve waited with interest, for his visitor was Martha, Jerry’s wife,who was a maid at Major Welch’s. It was not the first time Martha hadconsulted him. Now, however, Steve was puzzled, for on former occasionswhen she came to see him, Jerry had been on a spree; but Steve had seenJerry only the evening before, and he was sober. Steve motioned thegirl to a seat and waited.
She was so embarrassed, however, that all she could do was to tug atsomething which she held securely tied up in her apron. Steve tried tohelp her out.
“Jerry drunk again? I thought I had given him a lesson last time thatwould last him longer.”
“Nor, suh, he ain’ drunk—yit. But I thought I’d come to ’sult you.”Again she paused, and looked timidly around the room.
“Well, what is it? Has he threatened to beat you?” he asked, a shadegathering on his brow. “He knows what he’ll get if he tries that again.”
“Nor, suh,” said Martha, quickly; “I ain’ feared o’ dat. He know better’n dat now—sence you an’ my gran’mother got hold o’ him; but”—herknot came untied, and suddenly she gained courage—“what I want to’sult you about is dis: I want to ax you,—is Mr. Spickit—’lowed towrite ‘whiskey’ down in my sto’-book?” She clutched her book, and gazedat Steve as if the fate of the universe depended on the answer.
Steve took the book and glanced over it. It was a small, greasyaccount-book, such as was kept by persons who dealt at the littlecountry-stores about the County. Many of the items were simply “Mdse.,”but on the last two or three pages, the item “Whiskey” appeared withsomewhat undue frequency.
“What do you mean?” asked Steve.
“Well, you see, it’s disaway. Jerry, he gits his whiskey at Mr.Spickit’s—_some_ o’ it—an’ he say Mr. Spickit _shell_ write hit downon de book dat way, an——”
“Oh! You don’t want him to have it?” said Steve, a light breaking onhim.
“Nor, suh—dat ain’t it. I don’ mine he havin’ de _whiskey_—I don’mine he gittin’ all he want—cuz I know he gwine _drink_ it. But I don’want him to have it put down dat away on de _book_. I is a member o’ dechutch, and I don’ want whiskey writ all over my book—dat’s hit!”
“Oh!” Steve smiled acquiescingly.
“An’ I done tell Jerry so; an’ I done tell Mr. Spickit so, an’ ax himnot to do it.”
“Well, what do you want?”
“I wants him to put it down ‘merchandise,’ dat’s all; an’ I come to axyou, can’t you meck Jerry do it dat away.”
“Ah! I see. Why, certainly I can.”
“An’ I want to ax you dis: Jerry say, ef I don’ stop meddlin’ wid hebusiness, he won’ let me have no sto’-book, an’ he gwine lef’ me; dathe’ll meck you git a divo’ce from me—an’ I want to ax you ef he kenlef’ me jes cuz I want him to mark it merchandise? Kin he git a divorcejes for dat?” She was far too serious for Steve to laugh now. Her facewas filled with anxiety.
“Of course, he cannot.”
“Well, will you write me dat down, so I ken show it to him?”
Steve gravely wrote a few lines, which, after reading to her, he foldedwith great solemnity and handed her.
They read as follows:
“LEGAL OPINION.
“I am of opinion that it is not a cause for divorce, either _a vinculomatrimonii or a mensâ et thoro_, when a woman insists that the whiskeywhich her husband drinks, and which she pays for, shall be entered onher account-book as _Mdse_. Given under my hand this —— day of ——,18—.
“STEVENSON ALLEN,
“_Attorney and Counsellor-at-Law_.”
The young woman received the paper with the greatest reverence andrelief.
“Thankee, Marse Steve,” she said, with repeated bows and courtesies.“Dis will fix him. I knowed dat if I come to you, you’d tell me de law.Jerry talk like he know all de law in the wull!” Armed with her weapon,her courage was returning. “But I’ll straighten him out wid dis.” Shetied her letter up in her apron with elaborate care. Suddenly her facegrew grave again.
“‘Spose Jerry say he’ll trick me cuz I come to you?”
“Trick you——!” began Steve, in a tone of contempt.
“Not he himself; but dat he’ll git Doct’ Moses to do it?” Her face hadgrown quite pale.
“If he says he’ll trick you, tell him I’ll lick him. You come to me.”
“Yes, suh.” She was evidently much relieved, but not wholly so. “Icert’ny is feared o’ him,” she said, plaintively. “He done trickedJane—Sherrod’s wife—and a whole lot o’ urrs,” she said. Steve knewfrom her face that the matter was too serious to be laughed at.
“You tell Jerry that if he dares to try it, or even threatens youwith it, I’ll lick the life out of him and discharge him. And as forMoses——” His face darkened.
“I don’t want you to do that,” she said, quickly.
“Well, you tell him so, anyhow. And if I get hold of Moses, he won’ttrouble you.”
“Yas, suh, I’ll tell him ef he try to trick me. ’Cus I cert’ny isfeared o’ dat man.” She was going out, when Steve called her back.
“Ah! Martha? How are they all at Major Welch’s?”
“Dee’s all right well, thankee, suh,” said Martha. “Sept Miss Ruth—sheain been so mighty well lately.” Steve’s face brightened.
“Ah! What is the matter with her?” His voice was divided betweensolicitude and feigned indifference.
“I don’ know, indeed, suh. She’s jes sort o’ puny—jes heah lately. Shedon’t eat nuttin’. Dee talk ’bout sen’in’ her ’way.”
“Indeed!” Steve was conscious of a sudden sinking of the heart.
“I think she ride ’bout too much in de hot sun,” explained Martha, withthe air of an authority.
“I have no doubt of it,” said Steve.
“She come home tother evenin’ right down sick, and had to go to bed,”continued Martha.
“Ah! when was that? Why don’t they send for a doctor?—Dr. Still?”asked Steve, guilefully.
“Go ’way, Marse Steve, you know dee ain gwine let dat man practus onMiss Ruth. Dat’s what de matter wid her now. He come dyah all de timeteckin’ her out ridin’——”
“Why, he’s away from the County,” declared Steve, who appeared to havea surprising knowledge of the young Doctor’s movement.
“Yas, suh; but I talkin’ ’bout b’fo’ he went way. He was wid her datevenin’. Least, he went way wid her, but he didn’t come back wid her.”Her tone was so significant that again the light came into CaptainAllen’s eyes.
“And he hasn’t been back since?”
“Nor, suh, an’ he ain’t comin’ back nurr.”
“And you don’t know where Miss Welch is going, or when?”
“Nor, suh, she ain’ goin’ at all. I heah her say she wa’n’t gwine; butshe cert’ny look mighty thin, heah lately.” The conversation had ended.Steve was in a reverie, and Martha moved toward the door.
“Well, good-by, Marse Steve. I cert’ny is obliged to you, an’ I gwinesend you some eggs soon as my hens begins to lay again.”
But Captain Allen told her she did not owe him anything.
“Come again, Martha, whenever you want to know about anything—anythingat all.”
When Ma
rtha went out she heard him singing.
* * * * *
The story of Still’s offer of a compromise to Jacquelin got abroad,and, notwithstanding the wise doctrine of the law that an offer ofcompromise shall not be taken as evidence in any case, this particularoffer was so taken. Still found himself roundly abused by his counselfor being such a fool as to propose it. All sorts of rumors beganto fly about. It was said that Mr. Bagby had declined to act as hiscounsel. To meet these reports it was necessary to do something, andStill’s counsel held a consultation. It was decided that he should givean entertainment.
It would show his indifference to the claims of the Grays to hisplantation, and would prove his position in the County. Leech thoughtthat this would be a good thing to do; it would anger the Grays, if itdid nothing else. He could invite Judge Bail up to it.
“Make it a fine one when you do have it,” said the counsellor. “I’vefound champagne make its way to a man’s heart when you couldn’t get atit through his pocket.”
Dr. Still also was eager to have such an entertainment. He, too,appreciated the fineness of the stroke that, on the eve of battle,would show their contempt for the other side. Besides which, the youngphysician had another motive. Soon after his removal from the Countyto the city Dr. Still had become an admirer of Governor Krafton’sdaughter. She was the Governor’s only child, and even the Governor’sbitterest enemies admitted that he was a devoted father; and in thepress that was opposed to him, often side by side with the bitterestattacks on the Governor, was some admiring mention of his handsomeand accomplished daughter. He would have given her the moon, someonesaid to General Legaie. “Yes, even if he had to steal it to do so,”said the General. Miss Krafton had had the best education that thecountry could afford. This she had finished off with a year or two oftravel abroad. She had just returned home. She idolized her father, andperhaps the Governor had not been sorry to have her out of the countrywhere half the press was daily filled with the most direct and vehementaccusations against him. The Governor’s apologists declared that hismost questionable acts were from the desire to build up a fortune forhis daughter. It was for her that he had bought the old Haskeltonplace, one of the handsomest in the city, and, pulling down the fineold colonial mansion, had erected on its site one of the costliest andmost bewildering structures in the State.
It is often the case that the very magnitude of the efforts made toaccomplish a design frustrates it; and Governor Krafton, with all hiseagerness to be very rich, and his absolute indifference as to themeans employed, was always involved pecuniarily, while the men withwhom he worked appeared to be immensely successful. Until he fellout with Leech and Still, he had gone in with them in their railroadand land schemes; but while everything that they touched appeared toturn to gold (at least, it was so with Still; for there were rumorsrespecting Leech), the Governor was always hard pushed to meet hisexpenditures.
Still’s explanation to his son was that he let others climb the treesand do the shaking, and he stayed on the ground and gathered theapples. “Krafton and Leech has both made more money than I have,” hesaid, shrewdly; “but they have to pay it out to keep their offices,while I——” He completed the sentence by a significant buttoning ofhis pocket. “They think that because they get a bigger sheer generallythan I do, they do better. But—it ain’t the water that falls on theland that makes the crops; it’s what sinks in. This thing’s got tostop some time, my son—ground gets worked out—and when the crops aregathered I know who mine’s for.” He gazed at his son, with mingledshrewdness and affection. The young Doctor also looked pleased. Hisfather’s sharpness at times made up to him for his ignorance and wantof education. Dr. Still was not lacking in smartness himself, and hadbeen quick enough to see which way Miss Krafton’s tastes lay. He haddiscovered that she was both proud and ambitious—Not politically. Shesaid she detested politics; that her father never allowed politicsto be talked before her; and when he gave a “political dinner,” shedid not even come downstairs. She was ambitious socially. Dr. Stillpromptly began to play on this chord. He had prevailed on his fatherto set him up a handsome establishment in the city, and he becamedeeply literary. He began to talk of his family—the Stills hadoriginally been Steels, he said, and were the same family to which SirRichard Steel belonged—and to speak of his “old place” and his “oldpictures.” He described them with so much eloquence that Miss Kraftonsaid she wished she could see them. This gave Dr. Still an idea, and heforthwith began to plan an entertainment. As it happened, it was at thevery time that Leech had suggested the same thing to Hiram Still; andas his son and Leech rarely agreed about anything these days, Still wasimpressed, and the entertainment was determined on. It was to be the“finest party” that had ever been given at Red Rock. On this all wereunited. Even Hiram yielded to the general pressure, and admitted thatif you were “going to send for a man’s turn of corn it was no good tosend a boy to mill after it.”
He entrusted the arrangements to the young Doctor, who laid himself outon them. A florist and a band were to be brought up from the city, andthe decorations and supper were to surpass everything that had everbeen seen. A large company was invited, including many guests from thecity, for whom a special train was furnished, and Still, “to show hisgood feeling,” extended the invitation to many of his neighbors. Majorand Mrs. Welch and Ruth were invited. Still remembered that Major Welchhad been to one entertainment in that house, and he wished to show himthat he could excel even the Grays. Dr. Still was at first determinedthat Miss Welch should not come; but it was suggested that it would bea greater triumph to invite her, and more mature reflection decidedhim that this was so. He would show her Miss Krafton, and this wouldbe a greater victory than to omit her from the list. He could not butbelieve that she would be jealous.
On the evening of the entertainment Major Welch and Mrs. Welchattended. But Miss Ruth did not accompany them. She was not very well,Mrs. Welch said in reply to Virgy, who, under Dr. Still’s wing, was“receiving” in a stiff, white satin dress, and looking unfeignedlyscared as she held her great bouquet, like an explosive that might “gooff” at any time. Miss Virgy’s face, however, on seeing Mrs. Welch’sfamiliar countenance, lit up, and she greeted her with real pleasure,and expressed regret that Ruth had not come, with a sincerity thatmade Mrs. Welch warm toward her. Mrs. Welch liked her better than shedid Miss Krafton, whom she had met casually and thought a handsome andintelligent, but rather conceited girl.
It was a curious company that Major and Mrs. Welch found assembled. Thestrangers from the city included the judge, who was a dark-looking manwith a strong face, a heavy mouth, and a lowering gray eye; a numberof people of various conditions, whom Mrs. Welch recognized as menwhose names she had heard as connected with Leech; and a number ofothers whom she had never heard of. But there was not a soul whom shehad ever met before socially. Not a member of the St. Ann congregationwas present. Both the Stills were in an ill-humor, and Virgy, thoughshe was kind and cordial, looked wretchedly unhappy. Mrs. Welch wasglad that, for once, she had not permitted her principles to overrideher instincts, and had left Ruth at home. As she glanced about her, hergaze rested on her host. Hiram Still was talking to one of his guests,a small, stumpy, red-headed man with a twinkling eye and a bristly redmustache, whom Mrs. Welch recognized as an office-holder who had comedown from one of the Northern States.
Still was talking in a high, complaining voice.
“Yes,” he said, evidently in answer to a speech by his guest, “it isa fine party—the finest ever given in this County. It ought to be;I’ve spent enough money on it to buy a plantation, and to show myfriendliness I invited my neighbors. Some of ’em I didn’t have no callto invite,—and yet just look around you. I’ve got a lot of folks fromthe city I don’t know, and some from the County I know too well; butnot one of my old neighbors has come—not one gentleman has put hisfoot here this night.”
His guest glanced round the hall, and ended with a quizzical look up inStill
’s face. “Of course, what did you expect? Do you suppose, Still,if I were a gentleman I’d have come to your party? I’d have seen youd—d first. Let’s go and have some more champagne.”
It was the first time the fact had struck Mrs. Welch. It wastrue—there was not a gentleman there except her husband.
When Mrs. Welch left, shortly afterward, Still and his guest hadevidently got more champagne. Still was vowing that it was the finestparty ever given in Red Rock, even if there wasn’t a gentlemanpresent; and his guest was laughing and egging him on. As Major andMrs. Welch waited for their carriage, Leech passed with Miss Krafton onhis arm. Mrs. Welch drove home in silence. There were things she didnot wholly understand.
Red Rock: A Chronicle of Reconstruction Page 39
