CHAPTER VII
WHAT COMETH IN THE NIGHT
When I rode up our lane in the dusk, I found my father and mothersitting in the cool of the front gallery, and giving my rein to one ofour boys, I flung myself down on the steps near by, and now and againjoined in their conversation.
I was much surprised to learn that our whilom guest, Gordon Orme, hadtaken sudden departure during my absence, he having been summoned by amessenger from the village, who he stated brought him word that he mustforthwith be on his way to Albemarle. He had asked my father if he caredto sell the black horse, Satan, to which he had taken a fancy, but thishad been declined. Then it seems there had come up something of our latemeeting at the village, and Orme, laughing, had told of our horsebreaking and wrestling in a way which it seemed had not detracted frommy standing in my parents' eyes. None of us three was willing tocriticise our guest, yet I doubt if any one of us failed to entertain acertain wonder, not to say suspicion, regarding him. At least he wasgone.
Our talk now gradually resolved itself to one on business matters. Iought to have said that my father was an ambitious man and one of wideplans. I think that even then he foresaw the day when thehalf-patriarchial life of our State would pass away before one of widerhorizons of commercial sort. He was anxious to hand down his familyfortune much increased, and foreseeing troublous times ahead as to theinstitution of slavery in the South, he had of late been taking largerisks to assure success in spite of any change of times. Now, moved bysome strange reasons which he himself perhaps did not recognize, hebegan for the first time, contrary to his usual reticence, to explain tomy mother and me something of these matters. He told us that inconnection with his friend, Colonel William Meriwether, of Albemarle, hehad invested heavily in coal lands in the western part of the State, inwhat is now West Virginia. This requiring very large sums of money, hefor his part had encumbered not only the lands themselves, but theselands of Cowles' Farms to secure the payment. The holder of thesemortgages was a banking firm in Fredericksburg. The interest was onewhich in these times would be considered a cruel one, and indeed thewhole enterprise was one which required a sanguine courage, precisely ashis; for I have said that risk he always held as challenge andinvitation.
"Does thee think that in these times thee should go so deeply in debt,"asked my mother of him.
"Elizabeth," he said, "that is why I have gone in debt. Two years fromnow, and the value of these lands here may have been cut in half. Tenyears from now the coal lands yonder will be worth ten times what theyare to-day."
"John," she said to him suddenly, "sell those coal lands, or a part ofthem."
"Now, that I could not do," he answered, "for half their value. Thecountry now is fuller of war than of investment. But come peace, comewar, there lies a fortune for us all. For my share there remains but oneheavy payment; and to-morrow I ride to raise funds for that among ourtenants and elsewhere. I admit that my bankers are shrewd and severe--infact, I think they would rather see the payments forfeited than not. AsMeriwether is away, it is with me to attend to this business now."
And so, with this prelude, I may as well tell without more delay whatevil fortune was in store for us.
That coming day my father rode abroad as he had planned, taking blackSatan for his mount, since he needed to travel far. He had collectedfrom various sources, as his account book later showed, a sum of overfive thousand dollars, which he must have had in gold and negotiablepapers in his saddle-bags. During his return home, he came down the deeptrough road which ran in front of the Sheraton farms and ours. He passednear to a certain clump of bushes at the roadside. And there thathappened which brought to a sudden end all the peace and comfort of ourlives, and which made me old before my time.
I heard the horse Satan whinny at our lane gate, wildly, as though infright; and even as I went out my heart stopped with sudden fear. He hadleaped the gate at the lower end of the lane. His bridle rein wasbroken, and caught at his feet as he moved about, throwing up his headin fright as much as viciousness. I hastily looked at the saddle, but itbore no mark of anything unusual. Not pausing to look farther, I caughtthe broken reins in my hand, and sprung into the saddle, spurring thehorse down the lane and over the gate again, and back up the road whichI knew my father must have taken.
There, at the side of the road, near the clump of blackberry vines andsumac growth, lay my father, a long dark blot, motionless, awesome, asI could see by the light of the moon, now just rising in a gap of thedistant mountains. I sprang down and ran to him, lifted his head, calledto him in a voice so hoarse I did not recognize it. I told him that itwas his son had come to him, and that he must speak. So at last, asthough by sheer will he had held on to this time, he turned his grayface toward me, and as a dead man, spoke.
"Tell your mother," he said; "Tell Meriwether--must protect--good-by."
Then he said "Lizzie!" and opened wide his arms.
Presently he said, "Jack, lay my head down, please." I did so. He wasdead, there in the moon.
I straightened him, and put my coat across his face, and spurred backdown the road again and over the gate. But my mother already knew. Shemet me at the hall, and her face was white.
"Jack," she said, "I know!"
Then the servants came, and we brought him home, and laid him in his owngreat room, as the master of the house should lie when the end comes,and arrayed him like the gentleman he was.
Now came that old wire-hair, Doctor Bond, his mane standing stiff andgray over a gray face, down which tears rolled the first time known ofany man. He sent my mother away and called me to him. And then he toldme that in my father's back were three or four pierced wounds, no doubtreceived from the sharp stubs of underbrushes when he fell. But this, hesaid, could hardly have been the cause of death. He admitted that thematter seemed mysterious to him.
Up to this time we had not thought of the cause of this disaster, norpondered upon motives, were it worse than accident. Now we began tothink. Doctor Bond felt in the pockets of my father's coat; and so forthe first time we found his account book and his wallets. Doctor Bondand I at once went out and searched the saddle pockets my father hadcarried. They were quite empty.
All this, of course, proved nothing to us. The most that we could arguewas that the horse in some way had thrown his rider, and that the fallhad proved fatal; and that perhaps some wandering negro had committedthe theft. These conclusions were the next day bad for the horse Satan,whom I whipped and spurred, and rode till he trembled, meting out to himwhat had been given old Klingwalla, his sire, for another murdering deedlike this. In my brutal rage I hated all the world. Like the savage Iwas, I must be avenged on something. I could not believe that my fatherwas gone, the man who had been my model, my friend, my companion all mylife.
But in time we laid him away in the sunny little graveyard of theSociety of Friends, back of the little stone church at Wallingford. Weput a small, narrow, rough little slab of sandstone at his head, and cutinto it his name and the dates of his birth and death; this being allthat the simple manners of the Society of Friends thought fit. "Histemple is in my heart," said my mother; and from that day to her deathshe offered tribute to him.
Thus, I say, it was that I changed from a boy into a man. But not theman my father had been. Life and business matters had hitherto been mucha sealed book for me. I was seized of consternation when a man cameriding over from the little Wallingford bank, asking attention to wordfrom Abrams & Halliday, bankers of Fredericksburg. I understood vaguelyof notes overdue, and somewhat of mortgages on our lands, our house, ourcrops. I explained our present troubles and confusion; but the messengershook his head with a coldness on his face I had not been accustomed tosee worn by any at Cowles' Farms. Sweat stood on my face when I saw thatwe owed over fifteen thousand dollars--a large sum in those simpledays--and that more would presently follow, remainder of a purchaseprice of over a hundred thousand dollars for lands I had never seen. Ilooked about me at the great house of Cowles' Farms, and a coldness
cameupon my heart as I realized for the first time that perhaps this homewas not ours, but another's. Anger again possessed me at this thought,and with small adieu I ordered the man from the place, and told him Iwould horsewhip him if he lingered but a moment. Then, too late, Ithought of more business-like action, and of following the advice myfather had given me, at once to see his associate, Colonel Meriwether.Thereafter I consulted my mother.
In the chaotic state of affairs then existing, with the excitement of aturbulent election approaching, it may be supposed that all commercialmatters were much unsettled. None knew what might be the condition ofthe country after the fall elections; but all agreed that now was notime to advance money upon any sort of credit. As to further pledges,with a view to raising these sums now due, I found the matter hopeless.
Colonel Sheraton might, perhaps, have aided us, but him I would not ask.Before this time I had acquainted him of my intentions in regard to hisdaughter; and now I went to him and placed the matter before him,explaining to him the nature of our affairs and announcing my intentionto make a quick journey to the West, in order to obtain assistance fromColonel Meriwether, of whom I hoped to find instant solution of thefinancial problems, at least. It seemed wise for me to place before MissGrace's father the question of advisability of allowing her to remainpledged to a man whose fortunes were in so sad a state. I asked him whatwas right for me to do. His face was very grave as he pondered, but hesaid, "If my girl's word has been passed, we will wait. We will wait,sir." And that was all I knew when I made my hurried preparations forthe longest journey I had at that time ever known.
The Way of a Man Page 7