CHAPTER XVI.
The pistol-shot echoed and re-echoed from the hills, the roar of themob, the shouts and yells of rage were heard at Lakeside, creatingwonder and consternation there.
Miriam had scarcely risen from her knees, and her heart was still goingup in earnest pleadings for help from on high, when the report of thepistol struck her ear.
"What was that?" she asked herself. "Some one shooting at a mark,perhaps; it is not the time of year for hunting game."
She remained a few moments longer in her room, then, at the call totea, descended the stairs to the lower hall. Just as she reached it themore startling and alarming sounds made by the mob began to be heard.
"Oh, what is it? what is happening in Prairieville?" she exclaimed,rushing into the dining-room, where the other members of the familywere already gathered.
Her grandmother stood listening with pale, excited face, little Oliveclinging to her skirts with affrighted looks, while Ronald andMcAllister exchanged glances of surprise and inquiry, and Bertie triedto conceal his alarm by assuming an air of manly unconcern, though hisyoung heart beat fast and the color had left his cheek.
McAllister was the first to reply to Miriam's question.
"Dinna be fashed, Miss Mirry," he said; "I ken the soun' weel, for Ihae heard it afore; it's the roaring and raging o' a mob o' infuriatedmen. Belike thae hae caught ane or more o' the burglars, and are takin'justice into their ain hands. The soun's we hear bode ill to some ane;but it canna be you or yours."
"That shot, then, you think was intended for a man?" said Ronald.
"Na doot, sir! It may be that Phelim O'Rourke has broken jail. I kenhe'd be vary likely to be shot doon by some o' them he's robbed andtried to murder, sooner than he'd 'scape to do mair o' the same kin' o'mischief."
Phelim O'Rourke was at that moment in his cell, listening as intentlyas they to the ominous sounds--listening with paling cheek and dilatedeyes, while standing at the grated window, vainly striving to get aview of what was going on far down the street.
He, too, recognized the hoarse cries of men with passions roused to afrenzy of rage and hate. Were they coming to lynch him? No; that shotfired a moment ago must have been intended for another than himself;some one of his confederates, in all probability.
But when they had finished dealing with the lesser member of the band,what more natural than that they should turn their rage upon its leader?
The thought brought out the cold beads of perspiration upon his brow,and he caught at the iron bars with a desperate effort to wrench themfrom their place and escape.
In vain; the task was beyond his strength; and with a groan of despairhe relinquished the attempt.
"Well, it's mesilf, Phalim O'Rourke, that'll die game, annyhow, if ithas to come till that same," he muttered, grinding his teeth together,and pacing his narrow cell to and fro, like a wild beast in his cage.
Then he called aloud to the jailor, asking what all the noise wasabout; but no one came to answer his inquiry.
"I wish," said Ronald Heath,"that I were able to run down there and seewhat it is all about."
"I'm glad to have you kept out of it," said his grandmother; "it seemsto be always the innocent lookers-on that get hurt in time of a riot."
"The impulse to seek the scene o' excitement is vary natural to mostfolk, I think," remarked McAllister--"to those o' the male sex atleast; but unless ane is likely to be o' use in aiding the right, it'sfar wiser to stay away."
As by common consent they had all left the dining-room for the porch,and there they remained--too much excited to think of eating--listeningintently to the yells and cries till the last of them had died away.Then they went through the form of taking their meal, but with scantappetite for the food, though it was well prepared and savory.
McAllister was just saying, as they rose from the table, "I'll gangdoun to the toun now an' find out what's been goin' on there," when ahorseman dashed up to the gate and dismounted.
"Warren!" exclaimed Ronald, catching sight of his friend through theopen window; "he's brought us the news."
He hurried out as he spoke, all the others following, in the generalanxiety to learn the cause of the unusual commotion in the town.
Charlton fastened his horse, opened the gate, and hastened up the path,meeting Ronald about half-way to the house.
The latter spoke first. "What news, Warren?"
"Dreadful! most dreadful!" he cried, passing his hand over his brow,like one half-stunned by some sudden calamity.
"So we feared from the strange and ominous sounds that have reached us.Come into the porch and take a seat, while you tell us all about it,"said Ronald, leading the way.
Charlton followed, shook hands in silence with Mrs. Heath and Miriam,then sat down, the family grouping themselves about him.
He was very pale and seemed much agitated. "Yes," he sighed, "an awfulthing has happened in Prairieville, our own town; two souls have beenhurried into eternity without a moment of time for preparation."
"Murder?" asked Ronald, in a low, awe-struck tone.
"Murder and lynching. Bangs shot Barney Nolan down dead in the streetwithout the slightest excuse for it, except that he was in a toweringpassion about something--nobody knows what--and--"
"Was lynched for it?" queried McAllister, as the captain paused in hisstory.
"Yes; he did not live many minutes after the mob got hold of him."
Hardly conscious why he did so, Charlton glanced at Miriam with thelast words; their eyes met, and he saw a look of keenest anguish comeinto hers, a deathly pallor suddenly overspread her features.
The pang that sight caused him was sharp as a dagger's thrust. "Couldit be possible that she cared for Bangs? a man so utterly devoid ofprinciple or honor, so hot-tempered, wicked, and cruel? that she couldhave cherished a feeling of love for one so base, so utterly unworthyof her?" The idea seemed preposterous; yet what else could explain herstrong emotion on hearing of his death?
The others, occupied with what he was saying, did not notice Miriam'semotion.
"Lynched! what does that mean?" asked Bertie, in wide-eyed wonder.
"Never mind, dear," said his grandmother, rising in some haste andleading him and Olive away; "children can't understand these things.It's all over now, and we'll think and talk of something else."
"Yes; Mrs. Heath is right," Charlton observed, in a low voice; "and thedetails are sickening; hardly fit for any but men's ears."
At that Miriam also rose and went quietly away to seek again theprivacy of her own room. Closing the door, she threw herself face downupon the bed, pressing both hands upon her temples. Her brain was in awhirl of contending emotions, in which, for the moment, a feeling as ifshe were partly responsible for Bangs's awful end was uppermost.
"Oh, did I call down vengeance upon his head?" she moaned, half aloud;"would he have been slain if I had not cried to God for deliverancefrom him? O God, Thou knowest I did not desire his death; and Thou hastsaid, 'Call upon Me in the day of trouble; I will deliver thee.' Ithank Thee for the deliverance, but oh, in what a fearful manner it hasbeen wrought!"
Charlton was going on with his story to Ronald and McAllister. Hisoffice was in a room in the second story of a building directlyopposite the brewery in which Bangs had sought a hiding-place. He waswriting there, he said, when Bangs fired the shot that killed Barney,and starting up at the sound, went to the window, from which he saw allthat followed without becoming a participator in the doings of the mob.
"It was horrible!" exclaimed Ronald, upon the conclusion of thenarrative, "yet one can't help feeling that he deserved his fate forhis unprovoked murder of a man like Barney--a decent, respectable man,and with a family to support; a good-natured, harmless fellow, so faras I can judge from what I have seen of him."
"Yes, sir; Barney Nolan was a' that," said McAllister; "he's beenemployed aboot the farm here lang enough for me to mak' sure o' that."
Charlton lingered some time lon
ger, hoping for another glimpse ofMiriam, but she did not rejoin them, and finally he said good-eveningand went away.
"Where is Miriam?" asked Mrs. Heath, joining Ronald on the porch.
"I don't know, grandma," he answered, in some surprise; "I thought shewas with you."
"No; I left her here. Perhaps she has gone to see Nora. Oh, what anawful thing for that poor woman to have her husband shot down in thatsudden, cruel way!"
"Yes; one cannot wonder at the exasperation of the public; andconsidering the impossibility of meting out to the murderer hisdeserved punishment, through the agency of the law, I can hardly blamethem for lynching him; but dragging him through the streets, bumpinghis head on the cobble-stones, was, to say the least, unnecessarycruelty."
"Did they do that, Ronald? Oh, how horrible!"
At that moment Miriam joined them, taking a chair between hergrandmother and brother. Her face was very pale, and she had evidentlybeen weeping a good deal.
Ronald noted it with surprise and concern. "My dear sister," he said,kindly, "don't distress yourself about this dreadful occurrence. Whyshould you? Bangs was no friend to you."
"No; but--it is almost more dreadful to me because he was--an enemy,and--Oh, you do not know that it was I who angered him so that he shotpoor Barney down! Oh, poor, poor Nora! What will she ever do?" sheadded, with a bitter sob; "and I--I feel as if I had killed them both."
"Oh, Miriam, you are too sensible a girl to think anything of thekind!" exclaimed Ronald. "You did not give Bangs his dreadful temper,or put Barney in his way; nor were you the cause of the enmity betweenthem."
"Oh, you don't know all!" cried Miriam; "I have been keeping somethings from you and grandmother, because--because I didn't want todistress you; but now I'll tell you all!"
Then she went on to give a full account of Bangs's efforts to induceher to consent to become his wife, including his threats, founded onthe fact that he had got the mortgage on Lakeside into his possession,and all that had passed between them at that day's interview; also thefury of passion he was in when he left her.
She told also of her cry to God for deliverance out of the hand of theunrighteous and cruel man, and how, because of that, she felt almostthat she had helped to bring him to his fearful end.
"Mirry, my child," her grandmother said, with emotion, and laying ahand affectionately upon the young girl's arm, "do not be distressedwith any such feeling; you have no reason to blame yourself; you butobeyed the command, 'Call upon Me in the day of trouble;' which wasright, wise, and your duty, and God took His own way to answer yourprayer.
"If Mr. Bangs had been a diligent Bible student he might have known hehad great reason to fear some such fate, if he persisted in sooppressing the widow and orphans; because in the Book of Exodus weread, 'Ye shall not afflict any widow or fatherless child. If thouafflict them in any wise, and they cry at all unto Me, I will surelyhear their cry; and My wrath shall wax hot, and I will kill you withthe sword.'"
There was a moment of silence, then Ronald said, "What a fearfulthreat! And it seems to have been very speedily fulfilled in Bangs'scase; though it may be that other helpless ones have been crying to Godfor relief from his oppressions for years. I have heard it assertedthat much of his wealth was obtained by fraud and oppression of theweak and helpless; but in any event, Mirry, I am sure you need not feelthat any blame attaches to you; it is a morbid feeling that I trustwill soon pass away."
"And you are delivered out of his hands. You should thank God for that,Miriam; we all should," remarked the old lady, taking hergranddaughter's hand and pressing it tenderly in hers.
Dr. Jasper's arrival just at that time prevented a reply from Miriam.He, too, was full of the fearful events of the last few hours; had comedirectly from the scene of anguish in Barney Nolan's home, where Noraand the children were weeping over the dead body of the husband andfather. The good doctor's eyes filled, and his voice trembled withemotion as he went on to describe the grief and despair of the new-madewidow and orphans, and his listeners wept in sympathy.
"My heart bleeds for them," said Mrs. Heath; "yet if Bangs had left awife, her case would, I think, be more pitiable still, knowing that herhusband so richly deserved his fate."
"I quite agree with you in that," the doctor said; "but I believe hehas left no nearer relative or connection than that sister of his, Mrs.Wiley."
"I should think it enough to make her insane," said Ronald. "How shemust be feeling now!"
"She is out of town," said the doctor, "and I presume has not yet heardof the fearful events of to-day."
"She inherits her brother's property, I suppose," remarked Ronald,musingly, "and will, therefore, become the holder of the mortgage onour home."
"Are you in trouble about that?" Dr. Jasper asked, in a tone offriendly sympathy and concern.
"Yes, sir; we fear there is danger of foreclosure, should the holder beso inclined; for we lack the means to pay off even the interest that isdue."
"Don't be uneasy; I trust that danger may be readily averted," returnedthe doctor, cheerily; "doubtless the money to pay off the wholeindebtedness can be borrowed, the lender being secured by a newmortgage; and I dare say Captain Charlton will be able to arrange thebusiness for you in a satisfactory manner, finding a mortgagee who willnot care to hurry you unduly for payment."
The faces about him grew brighter at his words.
"I wonder I had not thought of that before," exclaimed Ronald.
"You are kind, very kind, doctor," said Mrs. Heath. "'A friend in needis a friend indeed.'"
"Ah, my dear madam, advice is cheap," he said; "when not professional,"he added, laughingly. "I shall speak to Charlton, and we will see whatcan be done." Then, as he rose to go, "Ah, I had nearly forgotten! MissMiriam, Serena bade me give you this," drawing from his pocket a notewritten on tinted paper, and directed in a delicate female hand. "Youwill not find it a doleful missive," he went on, a joyous look cominginto his eyes; "the dark and threatening cloud that overshadowed us haspassed away, and we are again rejoicing in the sunlight; for which Itrust we are sincerely grateful to the Giver of all good."
"Ah, I am very, very glad for you both!" Miriam exclaimed, and theothers united their congratulations with hers.
"We have all felt for you and your sweet wife, doctor," said the dearold lady, "and are rejoiced that she is not to be torn from you.Golding has relinquished his claim and consented to leave youundisturbed?"
"Yes; after standing out against the measure for a time that seemedvery long to us, he finally agreed to unite with Serena in asking for adivorce; and under the circumstances the judge was able to grant itwithout bringing the matter into court. Then Serena and I were quietlyremarried, and Golding has gone, leaving his son with us; for which Iam most thankful, for I think it would have killed Serena to bedeprived of either of her children."
"How happened it that you were so strangely deceived in regard to Mr.Golding's death?" asked Mrs. Heath.
"I believe it was a cousin of the same name whose death was reported toSerena as that of her husband. I presume there was no intentionaldeceit; but it cannot be denied that Golding was greatly to blame inabsenting himself so long from home, and never during all that timeattempting any communication with his wife. Besides, even before thathe had given her Bible grounds for divorce. So that my conscience isentirely clear in asserting my claim to be superior to his," heconcluded, his countenance beaming with satisfaction.
"I think it well may be, and that Golding's conduct has been very cruelfrom first to last," remarked Mrs. Heath.
"Yes," assented the doctor, with a sigh. "Ah, well, I must try to makeit up to her during the rest of our two lives!"
With that he took his departure, and Miriam opened her note. It waswritten in a most cheerful strain, asking her sympathy in the writer'sjoy over her deliverance from the great trial of the last few weeks.
"My dear," she wrote, "if ever you are in sore distress, cry to theLord for deliverance, as I did, and He will surely
hear. 'In His favoris life; weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in themorning.'"
The thought comforted Miriam. "Shall it not be so with me also, andeven with poor Nora?" she asked herself, with a feeling of partialrelief and hopefulness, as she refolded the note and put it in herpocket.
"Grandmother," she said, aloud, "will you go with me to see poor Nora?You will, I am sure, know how to speak a word of comfort to her."
"Yes," Mrs. Heath said, rising; "I can at least repeat to her some ofthe precious Bible promises to the widow and the fatherless; and wewill carry them something to eat. The children will be hungry, even ifgrief deprives the mother of her appetite."
The night that followed that day was to Miriam the longest and saddestshe had ever known in all her young, healthful life. Her heart was sorefor Nora in her overwhelming grief and despair, and full of horror atthe remembrance of Bangs's crime and the fearful retribution that hadso speedily overtaken him.
She slept little till toward morning, and in consequence rose somewhatlater than her usual hour. Hastening down-stairs to begin the duties ofthe day, she met McAllister in the lower hall.
"Gude-mornin', Miss Mirry. The captain left this as he was ridin' by afew moments since, biddin' me give it to you," he said, handing her anote.
In spite of a determined effort to seem unconcerned, Miriam felt hercheeks flush hotly as she took the missive and glanced at the address,unmistakably in Charlton's handwriting.
"You should have asked the captain to come in and take breakfast withus, Sandy," she said.
"I urged the hospitalities o' the hoose upon him, Miss Mirry," was thereply, "but he was no to be persuaded. However, he said something abootgivin' you a call in the course o' the mornin'."
Ronald joined them at that moment with a bright "Good-morning, Mirry.Who's that intends to call on us to-day?"
"The captain wants to see your sister, sir," said McAllister; butMiriam had slipped away, hiding the note in the bosom of her dress asshe went.
"He does!" exclaimed Ronald, with laughing eyes. "Well, I for one shallmake him welcome to see her--in my presence or alone."
Sandy did not mention the note, shrewdly guessing that silence uponthat matter would be more pleasing to Miriam.
She seemed slightly abstracted during breakfast, and took an earlyopportunity after leaving the table to steal away by herself to learnin solitude what Warren had to say to her.
Her heart fluttered and the rose on her cheek deepened as she broke theseal and glanced at the contents of his note; then with an exclamationof astonishment she hurried to the dining-room, where she had left hergrandmother and Ronald consulting together about some work to be donein the garden.
"Why, Mirry, what now? What has happened that you look so excited?"asked her brother, as she came in with the note open in her hand.
"Something so wonderful that I can hardly believe it," she answered,dropping into a chair, her eyes shining, her breath coming halfpantingly. "I--I've had a small fortune left me!"
"Can it be possible!" exclaimed Ronald. "Where in the world does itcome from?"
"Listen," she said, and went on to read the letter aloud; merely abusiness one it was, informing her that the late Mr. Himes had made awill shortly before his death, bequeathing to her--Miriam Heath--allhis earthly possessions, consisting principally of the money he hadreceived for his farm and some United States bonds, amounting in all to$10,000.
He had told Captain Charlton that he had no near relative or friend--noone to whom he cared to leave anything; and having a high estimate ofMiriam's worth, and a great admiration for what he called her pluck andenterprise, he had selected her for his heir in preference to any oneelse.
"There," cried the excited girl, waving the letter above her head, "itwill be more than enough to save the place and stock the farm, too,with all the cattle we want!"
"But, Mirry, it is left to you personally; not to us as a family," saidRonald.
"Well, what of that? What do I want with money, except to save the dearhome for us all?" she cried, half indignantly, half in exultation.
"Dear, unselfish child!" her grandmother exclaimed, gazing at herthrough tear-dimmed eyes; "but we must not let you rob yourself."
"You needn't be one bit afraid I shall do that, granny dear," Miriamcried, springing to her feet and throwing her arms about the old lady'sneck; "I'll be sure to look out for number one."
"When are you going to begin so doing, sister mine?" asked Ronald, witha good-humored laugh.
Bertie and Olive came running in from the garden with the announcementthat the captain was coming.
"To see you, Mirry," added Ronald, roguishly. "I presume he wishes aprivate interview. Let me beg of you to treat him well for my sake.Just think what a friend he has been to me!"
"He comes on this business of the will, I presume," returned Miriam,blushing, "and I shall want you and grandmother to be present."
"Then I'll ask him into the sitting-room," Ronald said, giving her asmiling, mischievous look as he hastened away to receive his friend.
Charlton did not ask for a private interview, or seem to have come uponany other errand than the matter of the will. What he had to say wassaid in the presence of Mrs. Heath and Ronald.
He told them there was apparently nothing in the way of Miriam's takingimmediate possession of the property. It was possible the widow mightcome forward to put in a claim to her thirds, but not probable, as shewas doubtless keeping herself in concealment for fear of being put uponher trial on a charge of complicity in the first attempt upon the oldman's life, he having many times strongly asserted that she was guilty.
"And," added Charlton, "there is no doubt that she was an old flame ofthe would-be murderer, Phelim O'Rourke, or that they were oftentogether when the old husband was absent from home."
"What news do you bring us from town this morning?" asked Ronald. "Whathas been done with Bangs's body?"
"Wiley, his brother-in-law, had it taken down last night and buried asprivately as possible, lest there should be some interference on thepart of the lynchers; though I do not, myself, think he need have hadany such apprehension, they being fully satisfied, I have no doubt,with having inflicted the death penalty for his crimes."
"Do you approve of capital punishment, captain?" asked Mrs. Heath.
"Yes, madam, I do," he said, emphatically; "first, because God commandsit--'Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed'--and,secondly, because its abolition gives encouragement to those inclinedto commit murder--from enmity or for gain--and leads to lynching incases where the indignation of the community is so aroused by theenormity of a crime, or a series of crimes, that they feel that thecriminal must be sent where he can no longer harm his fellows, and thatnothing short of the death penalty is an adequate reward for hismisdeeds."
"I agree with you," returned Mrs. Heath; "it is not worth while for manto try to be wiser or more merciful than his Maker."
"Where is the command to which you have referred?" asked Ronald. "Donot those who are opposed to capital punishment assert that it was apart of the Levitical law, and that therefore the obligation to obey ithas passed away?"
"Some do," said Charlton, "but it must be from ignorance of the timewhen the command was given, and to whom. It is found in the ninthchapter of Genesis, fifth and sixth verses.
"The fact that it was given to Noah just after the flood shows that itis binding upon all mankind; for Noah was the progenitor of all racesof men now living upon the face of the earth. Some opposers of capitalpunishment say, to be sure, that the words are to be understood in thesense of a prediction, not a command; but to my mind it is very clearthat they are the latter. Let me read you the passage," he continued,taking up a Bible that lay on a table near which he was seated, andturning over its pages.
"Do; we shall be glad to hear it," answered Mrs. Heath; and he complied.
"'And surely your blood of your lives will I require: at the hand ofevery beast will I require it, an
d at the hand of man; at the hand ofevery man's brother will I require the life of man. Whoso sheddethman's blood, by man shall his blood be shed; for in the image of Godmade He man.'"
Closing the book, "Is it not a plain command?" he asked; "and being, asI have already remarked, given to him by whose descendants the wholeearth was to be peopled--given hundreds of years before Abraham, theprogenitor of the Jews, was born--it is evidently not merely a part ofthe Levitical law, but is to this day as binding as ever upon allmankind, Jew and Gentile alike.
"It is a dangerous thing," he went on, "for men to disregard any law ofGod; probably yesterday's lynching would not have occurred had not theoutraged community felt that there was no hope of justice upon thecriminal through the operation of the law of the State; and I fear wemay be going to have more of the same kind of work; the popular feelingagainst O'Rourke is very strong all up and down the valley."
"Do you think there will be an attempt to lynch him?" asked Ronald,while the faces of the two ladies turned pale with apprehension.
"I hope not, but I certainly fear it," replied the captain; "there areangry mutterings in the air that seem to presage a coming storm."
There was a pause in the conversation, broken by Ronald. "I quite agreewith you, Warren, in what you have been saying about the mischievoustendency of abolishing capital punishment; mercy to the few (that is,mercy to those whom the law of God adjudges to death for havingdestroyed the lives of their fellow-creatures) is cruelty to the many,because it, as you have said, takes away the wholesome fear that oftendeters wicked and unscrupulous men from murders they are moved tocommit from covetousness or a desire for revenge.
"But do you not think that beside the evil, of which we have just beenspeaking, there are others at work in the same direction?"
"Yes; I have in mind two others which are, I presume, the very ones towhich you refer. One is the practice by criminal lawyers of delaying orentirely frustrating the execution of the law when they know theirclient to be guilty; and not only guilty, but unrepentant; takingadvantage, for that purpose, of some trivial technicality that has nobearing whatever upon the question of the prisoner's guilt.
"The higher courts, too, that for like insufficient reasons reverse therighteous decisions of the lower, give encouragement to crime.
"The other evil, working in the same direction, is the mawkishsentimentality of certain weak-minded people, that leads them to makeheroes and martyrs of the most depraved and guilty of men, the mostheartless and desperate of criminals. Red-handed murderers seem to betheir especial favorites, to be visited, feasted upon dainties, loadedwith choice flowers, pitied and pleaded for, that they may be sparedthe due reward of their deeds; perhaps set free to repeat them."
"I blush for my sex when I hear how some of them pet and pamper thevilest criminals, the most heartless, ruffianly murderers, simplybecause justice has overtaken them and they are in prison," remarkedMiriam. "They, the silly sentimentalists, seem to lose all remembranceof the pain and misery endured by the wretched victims of thecriminals, in weak, not to say wicked, commiseration for the richlydeserved pains and penalties the assassins have brought uponthemselves."
The Tragedy of Wild River Valley Page 16
