CHAPTER XIX.
BROUGHT TO BAY.
Col. Montjoy was apprised of the unexpected result in the backwoods atan early hour. He read the announcement quietly and went on his usualmorning ride undisturbed. Then through the family spread the news as theother members made their appearance.
Mrs. Montjoy said, gently: "All happens for the best. If Mr. Montjoy hadbeen elected he would have been exposed for years to the Washingtonclimate, and he is not very well at any time. He complained of his heartseveral times last night."
But Mary went off and had a good cry. She could not endure the thoughtof the slightest affront to her stately father. She felt better afterher cry and kissed the old gentleman as he came in to breakfast.
"I see you have all heard the news," he said, cheerily. "Well, it liftsa load from me. I spent four very trying years up in the neighborhood ofWashington, and I am not well disposed toward the locality. I have donemy duty to the fullest extent in this matter. The people who know mehave given me an overwhelming indorsement, and I have been beaten onlyby people who do not know me! Swearingen will doubtless make a goodrepresentative, after all. I am sorry for Evan," he added, laughing. "Itwill be news to him to find out that the old Fire-Eaters have beenworsted at last." He went to breakfast with his arms around wife anddaughter. "All the honors of public life cannot compensate a man forseparation from his home," he said, "and Providence knows it."
Annie was silent and anxious. She made a feeble effort to sympathizewith the defeated, but with poor success. During the morning she startedat every sound and went frequently to the front door. She knew hercousin, and something assured her that his hand was in this mischief.How would it affect her? In her room she laughed triumphantly.
"Vain fools!" she exclaimed; "let them stay where they belong!" In theafternoon there was the sound of buggy wheels, and a servant brought tothe veranda, where they were sitting, a package. Adjusting his glasses,the colonel opened it to find one of the extras. At the head of this waswritten: "Thinking it probable that it may be important for this toreach you to-day, and fearing it might not otherwise, I send it bymessenger in buggy. Use them as you desire." To this was signed the nameof a friend.
Annie, who watched the colonel as he read, saw his face settle intosternness, and then an expression of anxiety overspread it. "Anythingserious, Norton?" It was the voice of his wife, who sat knitting.
"A matter connected with the election calls me to town," he said; "Ihope it will be the last time. I shall go in with the driver who broughtthe note." He went inside and made his few arrangements and departedhurriedly. After he was gone, Annie picked up the paper from the halltable, where he had placed it, and read the fatal announcement. Althoughfrightened, she could scarcely conceal her exultation. Mary was passing;she thrust the paper before her eyes and said: "Read that! So much forentertaining strangers!"
Mary read. The scene whirled about her, and but for the knowledge thather suffering was bringing satisfaction to the woman before her shewould have fallen to the floor. She saw in the gleeful eyes, gleamingupon her, something of the truth. With a desperate effort she restrainedherself and the furious words that had rushed to her lips, and laidaside the paper with unutterable scorn and dignity.
"The lie is too cheap to pass anywhere except in the backwoods," was allshe said.
A smile curled the thin lips of the other as she witnessed the desperatestruggle of the girl. The voice of Col. Montjoy, who had returned to thegate, was heard calling to Mary:
"Daughter, bring the paper from the hall table."
She carried it to him. Something in her pale face caused him to ask:"Have you read it, daughter?"
She nodded her head. He was instantly greatly concerned and began somerambling explanation about campaign lies and political methods. But hecould not disguise the fact that he was shocked beyond expression. Shedetained him but a moment. Oh, wonderful power of womanly intuition!
"Father," she said faintly, "be careful what you do. The whole thingoriginated back yonder," nodding her head toward the house. She had saidit, and now her eyes blazed defiance. He looked upon her in amazement,not comprehending, but the matter grew clearer as he thought upon it.
Arriving in the city he was prepared for anything. He went direct toRoyson's office, and that gentleman seeing him enter smiled. The visitwas expected and desired. He bowed formally, however, and moving a chairforward locked the door. Darkness had just fallen, but the electriclight outside the window was sufficient for an interview; neither seemedto care for more light.
"Amos," said the old man, plunging into the heart of the subject, "youhave done a shameful and a cruel thing, and I have come to tell you soand insist upon your righting the wrong. You know me too well to suspectthat personal reasons influence me in the least. As far as I amconcerned the wrong cannot be righted, and I would not purchase nor aska personal favor from you. The man you have insulted so grievously is astranger and has acted the part of a generous friend to those who,although you may not value the connection, are closely bound to you. Inthe name of God, how could you do it?" He was too full of indignation toproceed, and he had need of coolness.
The other did not move nor give the slightest evidence of feeling. Hehad this advantage; the part he was acting had been carefully plannedand rehearsed. After a moment's hesitation, he said:
"You should realize, Col. Montjoy, that I have acted only after a calmdeliberation, and the matter is not one to be discussed excitedly. Icannot refuse to talk with you about it, but it is a cold-blooded matterof policy only." The manner and tone of the speaker chilled the elder tothe heart. Royson continued: "As for myself and you--well, it was anopen, impersonal fight. You know my ambition; it was as laudable asyours. I have worked for years to keep in the line of succession; Icould not be expected to sit silent and while losing my whole chance seemy friend defeated. All is fair in love and war--and politics. I haveused such weapons as came to my hand, and the last I used only whendefeat was certain."
Controlling himself with great effort, Col. Montjoy said:
"You certainly cannot expect the matter to end here!"
"How can it proceed?" A slight smile lighted the lawyer's face.
"A demand will be made upon you for your authority."
"Who will make it--you?"
A light dawned upon the elder. The cool insolence of the man was morethan he could endure.
"Yes!" he exclaimed, rising. "As God is my judge, if he comes to me Ishall make the demand! Ingratitude was never charged against one of myname. This man has done me a lasting favor; he shall not suffer for needof a friend, if I have to sacrifice every connection in the world."
Again the lawyer smiled.
"I think it best to remember, colonel, that we can reach no sensibleconclusion without cool consideration. Let me ask you, then, forinformation. If I should answer that the charges in my letter, so far asMorgan's parentage is concerned, were based upon statements made by amember of your immediate family, what would be your course?"
"I should denounce you as a liar and make the quarrel my own."
Royson grew pale, but made no reply. He walked to his desk, and takingfrom it a letter passed it to the angry man. He lighted the gas, whilethe colonel's trembling hands were arranging his glasses, and stoodsilent, waiting. The note was in a feminine hand. Col. Montjoy read:
"My Dear Amos: I have been thinking over the information I gave you touching the base parentage of the man Morgan, and I am not sure but that it should be suppressed so far as the public is concerned, and brought home here in another way. The facts cannot be easily proved, and the affair would create a great scandal, in which I, as a member of this absurd family, would be involved. You should not use it, at any rate, except as a desperate measure, and then only upon the understanding that you are to become responsible, and that I am in no way whatever to be brought into the matter. Yours in haste,
"Annie."
The reader let t
he paper fall and covered his face with his hands amoment. Then he arose with dignity.
"I did not imagine, sir, that the human heart was capable of suchvillainy as yours has developed. You have stabbed a defenseless strangerin the back; have broken faith with a poor, jealous, weak woman, andhave outraged and humiliated me, to whom you are personally indebtedfinancially and otherwise. Unlock your door! I have but one honorablecourse left. I shall publish a card in the morning's paper stating thatyour letter was based upon statements made by a member of my family;that they are untrue in every respect, and offer a public apology."
"Will you name the informant?"
"What is that to you, sir?"
"A great deal! If you do name her, I shall reaffirm the truth of herstatements, as in the absence of her husband I am her nearest relative.If you do not name her, then the public may guess wrong. I think youwill not do so rash a thing, colonel. Keep out of the matter.Circumstances give you a natural right to hands off!"
"And if I do!" exclaimed the old man, passionately, "who will act forhim?" The unpleasant smile returned to the young man's lips.
"No one, I apprehend!"
Montjoy could have killed him as he stood. He felt the ground slippingfrom under him as he, too, realized the completeness and cowardliness ofthe plot.
"We shall see; we shall see!" he said, gasping and pressing his hand tohis heart. "We shall see, Mr. Royson! There is a just God who looks downupon the acts of all men, and the right prevails!"
Royson bowed mockingly but profoundly.
"That is an old doctrine. You are going, and there is just one thingleft unsaid. At the risk of offending you yet more, I am going to sayit."
"I warn you, then, to be careful; there is a limit to human enduranceand I have persistently ascribed to me the worst of motives in thismatter, but I have as much pride in my family as you in yours. There arebut few of us left. Will you concede that if there is danger, in heropinion, that she will become the sister-in-law of this man, and thatshe believed the information she has given to be true, will you concedethat her action is natural, if not wise, and that a little moreselfishness may after all be mixed in mine?" Gradually his meaningdawned upon his hearer. For a second he was dumb. And all this was to bepublic property!
"I think," said Royson, coolly opening the door, "it will be well foryou to confer with friends before you proceed, and perhaps leave toothers the task of righting the wrongs of strangers who have takenadvantage of your hospitality to offer the deadliest insult possible inthis southern country. It may not be well to arm this man with the factthat you vouch for him; he may answer you in the future."
He drew back from the door suddenly, half in terror. A man, pale asdeath itself, with hair curling down upon his shoulders, and eyes thatblazed under the face before him, whose eyes never for a moment lefthis, broke the seal. Then he read aloud:
"Mr. Amos Royson, I inclose for your inspection a clipping from an extra issue this day, and ask if you are the author of the letter it contains. If you answer yes, I hereby demand of you an unconditional retraction of and apology for the same, for publication in the paper which contained the original. This will be handed to you by my friend, Gerald Morgan.
"Edward Morgan."
Royson recovered himself with evident difficulty.
"This is not customary--he does not demand the name of my informant!" hesaid.
"We do not care a fig, sir, for your informant. The insult rests in theuse you have made of a lie, and we propose to hold you responsible forit!"
Gerald spoke the words like a sweet-voiced girl and returned the stareof his opponent with insolent coolness. The colonel had paused, as heperceived the completeness of the lawyer's entrapping. Amos could notuse his cousin's name before the public and the Montjoys were saved frominterference. He was cornered. The colonel passed out hurriedly with anaffectionate smile to Gerald, saying:
"Excuse me, gentlemen; these are matters which you will probably wish todiscuss in private. Mr. Royson, I had friends wiser than myself at workupon this matter, and I did not know it."
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