XXXIII
INTO THE LION'S JAWS
The party under Josh's leadership moved off down the road. Miller, whileentirely convinced that he had acted wisely in declining to accompanythem, was yet conscious of a distinct feeling of shame and envy that he,too, did not feel impelled to throw away his life in a hopelessstruggle.
Watson left the buggy and disappeared by a path at the roadside. Millerdrove rapidly forward. After entering the town, he passed several smallparties of white men, but escaped scrutiny by sitting well back in hisbuggy, the presumption being that a well-dressed man with a good horseand buggy was white. Torn with anxiety, he reached home at about fouro'clock. Driving the horse into the yard, he sprang down from the buggyand hastened to the house, which he found locked, front and rear.
A repeated rapping brought no response. At length he broke a window, andentered the house like a thief.
"Janet, Janet!" he called in alarm, "where are you? It is onlyI,--Will!"
There was no reply. He ran from room to room, only to find them allempty. Again he called his wife's name, and was about rushing from thehouse, when a muffled voice came faintly to his ear,--
"Is dat you, Doctuh Miller?"
"Yes. Who are you, and where are my wife and child?"
He was looking around in perplexity, when the door of a low closet underthe kitchen sink was opened from within, and a woolly head wascautiously protruded.
"Are you _sho'_ dat's you, doctuh?"
"Yes, Sally; where are"--
"An' not some w'ite man come ter bu'n down de house an' kill all deniggers?"
"No, Sally, it's me all right. Where is my wife? Where is my child?"
"Dey went over ter see Mis' Butler 'long 'bout two o'clock, befo' disfuss broke out, suh. Oh, Lawdy, Lawdy, suh! Is all de cullud folks be'nkillt 'cep'n' me an' you, suh? Fer de Lawd's sake, suh, you won' let 'emkill me, will you, suh? I'll wuk fer you fer nuthin', suh, all my bawndays, ef you'll save my life, suh!"
"Calm yourself, Sally. You'll be safe enough if you stay right here, I'we no doubt. They'll not harm women,--of that I'm sure enough,although I haven't yet got the bearings of this deplorable affair. Stayhere and look after the house. I must find my wife and child!"
The distance across the city to the home of the Mrs. Butler whom hiswife had gone to visit was exactly one mile. Though Miller had a goodhorse in front of him, he was two hours in reaching his destination.Never will the picture of that ride fade from his memory. In his dreamshe repeats it night after night, and sees the sights that wounded hiseyes, and feels the thoughts--the haunting spirits of the thoughts--thattore his heart as he rode through hell to find those whom he wasseeking. For a short distance he saw nothing, and made rapid progress.As he turned the first corner, his horse shied at the dead body of anegro, lying huddled up in the collapse which marks sudden death. WhatMiller shuddered at was not so much the thought of death, to the sightof which his profession had accustomed him, as the suggestion of what itsignified. He had taken with allowance the wild statement of the fleeingfugitives. Watson, too, had been greatly excited, and Josh Green's groupwere desperate men, as much liable to be misled by their courage as theothers by their fears; but here was proof that murder had beendone,--and his wife and children were in the town. Distant shouts, andthe sound of firearms, increased his alarm. He struck his horse with thewhip, and dashed on toward the heart of the city, which he must traversein order to reach Janet and the child.
At the next corner lay the body of another man, with the red bloodoozing from a ghastly wound in the forehead. The negroes seemed to havebeen killed, as the band plays in circus parades, at the streetintersections, where the example would be most effective. Miller, with awild leap of the heart, had barely passed this gruesome spectacle, whena sharp voice commanded him to halt, and emphasized the order bycovering him with a revolver. Forgetting the prudence he had preached toothers, he had raised his whip to strike the horse, when several handsseized the bridle.
"Come down, you damn fool," growled an authoritative voice. "Don't yousee we're in earnest? Do you want to get killed?"
"Why should I come down?" asked Miller. "Because we've ordered you tocome down! This is the white people's day, and when they order, a niggermust obey. We're going to search you for weapons."
"Search away. You'll find nothing but a case of surgeon's tools, whichI'm more than likely to need before this day is over, from allindications."
"No matter; we'll make sure of it! That's what we're here for. Comedown, if you don't want to be pulled down!"
Miller stepped down from his buggy. His interlocutor, who made no effortat disguise, was a clerk in a dry-goods store where Miller bought mostof his family and hospital supplies. He made no sign of recognition,however, and Miller claimed no acquaintance. This man, who had forseveral years emptied Miller's pockets in the course of more or lesslegitimate trade, now went through them, aided by another man, morerapidly than ever before, the searchers convincing themselves thatMiller carried no deadly weapon upon his person. Meanwhile, a thirdransacked the buggy with like result. Miller recognized several othersof the party, who made not the slightest attempt at disguise, though nonames were called by any one.
"Where are you going?" demanded the leader.
"I am looking for my wife and child," replied Miller.
"Well, run along, and keep them out of the streets when you find them;and keep your hands out of this affair, if you wish to live in thistown, which from now on will be a white man's town, as you niggers willbe pretty firmly convinced before night."
Miller drove on as swiftly as might be. At the next corner he wasstopped again. In the white man who held him up, Miller recognized aneighbor of his own. After a short detention and a perfunctory search,the white man remarked apologetically:--
"Sorry to have had to trouble you, doctuh, but them's the o'ders. Itain't men like you that we're after, but the vicious and criminal classof niggers."
Miller smiled bitterly as he urged his horse forward. He was quite wellaware that the virtuous citizen who had stopped him had only a few weeksbefore finished a term in the penitentiary, to which he had beensentenced for stealing. Miller knew that he could have bought all theman owned for fifty dollars, and his soul for as much more.
A few rods farther on, he came near running over the body of a woundedman who lay groaning by the wayside. Every professional instinct urgedhim to stop and offer aid to the sufferer; but the uncertaintyconcerning his wife and child proved a stronger motive and urged himresistlessly forward. Here and there the ominous sound of firearms wasaudible. He might have thought this merely a part of the show, like the"powder play" of the Arabs, but for the bloody confirmation of itsearnestness which had already assailed his vision. Somewhere in thisseething caldron of unrestrained passions were his wife and child, andhe must hurry on.
His progress was painfully slow. Three times he was stopped andsearched. More than once his way was barred, and he was ordered to turnback, each such occasion requiring a detour which consumed many minutes.The man who last stopped him was a well-known Jewish merchant. AJew--God of Moses!--had so far forgotten twenty centuries of history asto join in the persecution of another oppressed race! When almostreduced to despair by these innumerable delays, he perceived, comingtoward him, Mr. Ellis, the sub-editor of the Morning Chronicle. Millerhad just been stopped and questioned again, and Ellis came up as he wasstarting once more upon his endless ride.
"Dr. Miller," said Ellis kindly, "it is dangerous for you on thestreets. Why tempt the danger?"
"I am looking for my wife and child," returned Miller in desperation."They are somewhere in this town,--I don't know where,--and I must findthem."
Ellis had been horror-stricken by the tragedy of the afternoon, thewholly superfluous slaughter of a harmless people, whom a show of forcewould have been quite sufficient to overawe. Elaborate explanations wereafterwards given for these murders, which were said, perhaps truthfully,not to have been premeditated, and many reg
rets were expressed. Theyoung man had been surprised, quite as much as the negroes themselves,at the ferocity displayed. His own thoughts and feelings were attuned toanything but slaughter. Only that morning he had received a perfumednote, calling his attention to what the writer described as a very nobledeed of his, and requesting him to call that evening and receive thewriter's thanks. Had he known that Miss Pemberton, several weeks aftertheir visit to the Sound, had driven out again to the hotel and madesome inquiries among the servants, he might have understood better themeaning of this missive. When Miller spoke of his wife and child, somesubtle thread of suggestion coupled the note with Miller's plight."I'll go with you, Dr. Miller," he said, "if you'll permit me. In mycompany you will not be disturbed."
He took a seat in Miller's buggy, after which it was not molested.
Neither of them spoke. Miller was sick at heart; he could have wept withgrief, even had the welfare of his own dear ones not been involved inthis regrettable affair. With prophetic instinct he foresaw the hatredsto which this day would give birth; the long years of constraint anddistrust which would still further widen the breach between two peopleswhom fate had thrown together in one community.
There was nothing for Ellis to say. In his heart he could not defend thedeeds of this day. The petty annoyances which the whites had felt at thespectacle of a few negroes in office; the not unnatural resentment of aproud people at what had seemed to them a presumptuous freedom of speechand lack of deference on the part of their inferiors,--these things,which he knew were to be made the excuse for overturning the citygovernment, he realized full well were no sort of justification for thewholesale murder or other horrors which might well ensue before the daywas done. He could not approve the acts of his own people; neither couldhe, to a negro, condemn them. Hence he was silent.
"Thank you, Mr. Ellis," exclaimed Miller, when they had reached thehouse where he expected to find his wife. "This is the place where I wasgoing. I am--under a great obligation to you."
"Not at all, Dr. Miller. I need not tell you how much I regret thisdeplorable affair."
Ellis went back down the street. Fastening his horse to the fence,Miller sprang forward to find his wife and child. They would certainlybe there, for no colored woman would be foolhardy enough to venture onthe streets after the riot had broken out.
As he drew nearer, he felt a sudden apprehension. The house seemedstrangely silent and deserted. The doors were closed, and the Venetianblinds shut tightly. Even a dog which had appeared slunk timidly backunder the house, instead of barking vociferously according to the usualhabit of his kind.
The Marrow of Tradition Page 33
