Red Rock: A Chronicle of Reconstruction

by Thomas Nelson Page

  CHAPTER XXX

  SOME OF THE GRAIN MRS. WELCH REAPED

  The difference in the attitude of their neighbors toward them was feltdeeply by Major and Mrs. Welch. Even Dr. Cary’s wonted cordiality hadgiven place, when he met Mrs. Welch, to grave and formal courtesy.Toward Major Welch the formality was less marked, while toward Ruththere was almost the same warmth and friendliness that had existedbefore Mrs. Welch’s letters were seen. Ruth received quite as manyinvitations as before, and when she met her neighbors they were ascordial to her as ever. She was conscious that this difference in hercase was intentional, that the old warmth toward her was studied, andthat they meant her to feel that the change in their attitude did notextend to her. Ruth, however, was far too loyal to her own to acceptsuch attentions; so far from accepting, she resented the overturesmade her, and was not slow in letting it be understood. There wereone or two exceptions to this general attitude. For Blair Cary herliking deepened. Blair was sweeter than ever to her, and though Ruthfelt that this was to make up to her for the coolness of others, therewere a real warmth and a true sympathy in Blair, and a delicacy andcharm about her manner of showing them that touched Ruth, and she wasconscious that day by day she became drawn more and more closely toher. She felt that Blair understood her and sympathized with her, andthat, if she ever chose to speak, she had in her a friend on whosebosom she could fling herself and find consolement. Such friendshipsare rare. The friend with whom one does not have to make explanationsis God-given.

  With her other neighbors Ruth stood on her dignity, in armedguardfulness. She carried her head higher than she had ever done in herlife, and responded to their advances with a coldness that soon gainedher a reputation for as much pride as she could have desired, if notfor a good deal of temper. Mrs. Dockett attempted a sympathetic mannerwith her, and if subsequent rumors were any indication, that redoubtedchampion did not come off wholly unscathed.

  “The little minx has got her mother’s tongue,” sniffed the offendedlady. “Why, she actually snubbed me—_me_! Think of her daring totell me, when I was giving her to understand that we knew she wasnot responsible for any of the insulting things that had been saidabout us, that she always agreed with her mother and father ineverything!—Which I’ll wager she doesn’t, unless she’s different fromall the other girls I know! And away she marched with her little mouthpursed up and her head held as high as Captain Allen’s. She’ll knowwhen I try to be civil to her again! She’s getting her head turnedbecause Captain Allen said she had some pretension to good looks.”

  It must be said, though, on behalf of Mrs. Dockett, that after thefirst smart of the rebuff she had received was over, she liked Ruthnone the less, and after a little while used to tell the story ofRuth’s snubbing her, with a very humorous take-off of Miss Welch’sair and of her own confusion. And long afterward she admitted thatthe first time she really liked Ruth Welch was when she resented hercondescension. “It takes a good woman—or man either—to stand up tome, you know!” she said, with a twinkle of pride and amusement in herbright eyes.

  Mrs. Dockett was not by any means the only one to whom the young ladyshowed her resentment. Ruth felt her isolation keenly, though she didnot show this generally, except in a new hauteur. She not only gave upvisiting, and immersed herself in the home duties which devolved uponher in consequence of her mother’s absorption in her philanthropicalwork, but she suddenly began to take a much deeper interest than everbefore in that work itself, riding about and visiting the poor negroesin whom her mother was interested, and extending her visits to thepoorer whites as well. She was surprised at the frequency with whichshe met Mrs. Gray and Blair, or, if she did not meet them, heard oftheir visits to the people she was attending. Once or twice she metMiss Thomasia, also, accompanied by old Peggy as her escort. “I heardthat the fence was going to be put up between us and old Mrs. Granger,”explained Miss Thomasia, “and I am such a poor hand at climbing fences,I am trying to see her as often as I can before it is done. I do hopethe old woman will die before it is put up.” She saw the astonishedlook on Ruth’s face and laughed heartily. “You know what I mean, mydear, I am always getting things wrong. But, are you alone, my dear?”

  Ruth said she was alone.

  “I don’t think it quite right,” said Miss Thomasia, shaking her head.“Steve, I am sure, would be very glad to accompany you on any of yourvisitations, and so would Jacquelin.” She was perfectly innocent, butRuth was incensed to find herself blushing violently.

  It happened that on these visitations, more than once, Ruth fell inwith Captain Allen. She treated him with marked coldness—with actualsavageness, Steve declared afterward, but at the time, it must be said,it appeared to have little apparent effect upon that gentleman. Indeed,it appeared simply to amuse him. He was “riding about on business,”he explained to her. He seemed to have a great deal of business “toride about on” of late. Ruth always declined, with much coolness, hisrequest to be allowed to escort her, but her refusal did not seem tooffend him, and he would turn up unexpectedly the next time she rodeout alone, cheerful and amused. (One singular thing was that sherarely saw him when she was accompanied by her father.) Still she didnot stop riding. She did not see why she should give up her visitsof philanthropy, simply because Captain Allen also happened to havebusiness to attend to. She began to be conscious that sometimes sheeven felt disappointed if on her rides she did not see him somewhere,and she hated herself for this, and took to disciplining herself forit by riding on unfrequented roads. Yet even here, now and then,Captain Allen passed her, and she began to feel as if he were in somesort doing it to protect her. On one occasion when he found her on asomewhat lonely road, he took her to task for riding so much alone, andtold her that she ought not to do it. She was secretly pleased, butfired up at his manner.

  “Why?” She looked him defiantly in the eyes.

  He appeared confused.

  “Why—because—Suppose you should lose your way, what would you do?”She saw that this was not his reason.

  “I should ask someone,” she answered, coolly.

  “But whom would you ask? There is no one—except one old woman, myold Mammy Peggy who lives down in this direction—who lives anywherebetween the old road that is now stopped up and the creek, and fartherback is a through-cut to the Bend, which you crossed, along which someof the worst characters in the County travel. They do not come thisside of the creek, for they are afraid; I assure you that it is notsafe for you to be riding about through the woods in this way at thistime of the evening, by yourself.”

  “Why, I see this path—someone must travel it?” Ruth said. She knewthat somewhere down in that direction was the old hospital-place,which the negroes said was haunted, and which was rumored to be themeeting-place of the Ku Klux. Steve looked a little confused.

  “Yes——”

  “And if no one is down here, there cannot any harm come to me.” Sheenjoyed her triumph.

  “Yet—but you don’t understand. People pass this way going backwardsand forwards from—from the Bend—and elsewhere, and—” He broke off.“You must trust me and take my word for it,” he said, firmly. “It isnot right for you; it is not safe.” He was so earnest that Ruth couldnot help feeling the force of what he said, and she was at heartsecretly pleased, yet she resented his attitude.

  “Whom should I be afraid of? Of the Ku Klux?” She was pleased to seehim flush. But when he answered her he spoke seriously:

  “Miss Welch, there are no Ku Klux here—there never were any—exceptonce for a little while,” he corrected himself, “and there is not onein the County or in the South who would do you an injury, or with whom,if you were thrown, you would not be as safe as if you were guarded bya regiment.”

  Ruth felt that he was telling the truth, and she was conscious of theeffect he had on her. Yet she rebelled, and she could not resist firinga shot at him.

  “Thank you,” she said, mockingly. “I am relieved to know they will notmurder ladies.” Steve flushed hotly, and,
before he could answer, shepressed her advantage with delight.

  “Could you not persuade them to extend their clemency to other poordefenceless creatures? Poor negroes, for example? You say there neverwere any Ku Klux in this County; how about that night when the Statemilitia were raided and their arms taken from them, and when poordefenceless women were frightened to death. Were the men who did thatreally ghosts?”

  She looked at Steve and was struck with a pang that she should haveallowed herself to be carried so far. She had meant only to sting himand revenge herself, but she had struck deeper than she had intended.The look on Steve’s face really awed her, and when he spoke the tonein his voice was different from any she had ever heard in it.

  “Miss Welch, I did not say there had never been any Ku Klux in thisCounty—you misunderstood me. I said there had never been any but once.I myself organized a band of Ku Klux regulators—‘a den,’ as we calledit, in this County—and we made one raid—the raid you speak of, whenwe took the arms from the negroes. I led that raid. I organized it andled it, because I deemed it absolutely necessary for our protectionat the time—for our salvation. No one was seriously hurt—no womenwere frightened to death, as you say. It is true that some women werefrightened, and, no doubt, frightened badly, at the pranks playedthat night. We meant to frighten the men; if necessary we should havekilled them—the leaders—but never to frighten the women. Under theexcitement of such an occasion, where there were hundreds of young men,some full of fun, others wild and reckless, some unauthorized acts werecommitted. It had been attempted to guard against them, but some menoverstepped the bounds and there were undoubtedly unjustifiable actscommitted under cover of the disguise adopted. But no lives were takenand no great violence was done. The reports you have heard of it wereuntrue. I give you my word of honor as to this. That is the only timethere has been a raid by Ku Klux in this County—and the only timethere will be one. We accomplished our purpose, and we proved what wecould do. The effect was salutary. But I found that the blackguards andsneaks could take advantage of the disguise, and under the disguisewreak their private spite, and by common consent the den was disbandedsoon after that night. There have been ruffianly acts committed sincethat time by men disguised as Ku Klux; but not one of the men who werein that raid, so far as I know, was concerned in them or has ever wornthe disguise since then. They have sworn solemnly not to do so. Atleast only one—I am not sure as to one,” he said, almost in reverie;“but he is an outsider. The place where they met is the old plantationdown here on the river; this path leads to it, and at the top of thenext hill I can show you the house. It is only a ruin, and was selectedby me because the stories connected with it protected it from thecuriosity of the negroes, and in case of invasion the woods around,with their paths, furnished a ready means of escape.

  “I have told you the whole story and told you the truth absolutely, andI hope you will do me the honor to believe me.” His manner and voicewere so grave that Ruth had long lost all her resentment.

  “I do,” she said, “and I beg your pardon for what I said.”

  He bowed. They had reached the crest of the hill.

  “There is the house.” He held a bough aside and indicated a largerambling mansion below them, almost concealed on one side by the densegrowth, while the other side appeared to be simply a ruin. It lay in acleft between two wooded hills around the base of which ran the river,and seemed as desolate a place as Ruth had ever seen.

  “My showing it to you is a proof that ‘the den’ is broken up. Now wewill go back.”

  “I did not need it,” she said, “and I will never tell anyone that Ihave ever seen it.”

  To this Captain Allen made no response.

  “I must see you safely back to the main road,” he said, gravely.

  Ruth felt that she had struck him deeply, and as they rode along shecast about in her mind for some way to lead up to an explanation. Itdid not come, however, and at the main road, when her gate was insight, Captain Allen pulled in his horse and lifted his hat.

  “Good-by.”

  “Good-evening. I will think of what you said,” she began, meaning whathe had said about her riding out alone.

  “I would at least like you to think of me as a gentleman.” He bowedgravely, and lifting his hat again, turned and rode slowly away.

  Ruth rode home, her mind filled with conflicting emotions. Among themwas anger, first with herself and afterward with Captain Allen.

  Miss Welch, on her arrival at home that evening, was in a singularframe of mind, and was as nearly at war with everyone as it is possiblefor a really sweet-tempered girl to be. Dr. Washington Still hadcalled in her absence and proffered his professional services for anyof her patients. She broke out against him vehemently, and when hermother, who was in a mollified state of mind toward the young man,undertook to defend him, Ruth attacked the whole Still family—andconnections—except Virgy, whom she admitted to be a poor littlekind-hearted thing, and shocked her mother by denouncing warmly thestories of the Ku Klux outrages and declaring openly that she did notbelieve there had ever been any Ku Klux in the County, except on theone occasion when they had disarmed the negro militia—and that shethought they had done exactly right, and just what she would have hadthem do.

  Mrs. Welch was too much shocked to do anything but gasp.

  “Oh! Ruth, Ruth,” she groaned. “That ever my daughter should saysuch things!” But Miss Ruth was too excited for control just then.She launched out yet more warmly and shocked her mother by yet moreheretical views, until suddenly, moved by her mother’s real pain, sheflung herself into her arms in a passion of remorse and tears, anddeclared that she did not mean half of what she had said, but was awicked, bad girl who did not appreciate the best and kindest of mothers.

  A few days afterward, the man known as the trick-doctor, who calledhimself “Doctor Moses,” came to Major Welch’s and told a pitiful storyof an old woman’s poverty. Mrs. Welch gave him some sugar, coffee, andother things for her, but he asked the ladies to go and see her. Shelived “all by herself, mostly, and hones to see the good white folks,”he said.

  “Ef my young Mistis would be so kind as to go and see her some evenin’I will show her de way.” He looked at Ruth, with a low bow and thatsmile and uneasy look which always reminded her of a hyena in a cage.

  They promised to go immediately, and he undertook to describe the roadto them.

  It was too bad to drive a carriage over—you had to ride on horseback;but his young Mistress would find it, she was such a good rider.

  Ruth could never bear the sight of the negro; he was the most repulsivecreature to her that she had ever seen. Yet it happened, that from hisdescription of the place where the old woman lived and of the road thatled there, she was sure it was the same old woman whom Captain Allenhad mentioned to her, that afternoon, as having been his mammy, andas the one person who lived on the deserted plantation. And this, orsome other reason—for the writer by no means wishes to be positive inassigning a woman’s reason—determined Ruth to go and see her. She hadexpected her father to accompany her, as he frequently did so, but ithappened that day that he was called away from home, and as her motherreceived another urgent call that morning to go and see a sick child,Ruth had either to postpone her visit or go alone. She chose the latteralternative, and as soon as the afternoon had cooled a little, shestarted off on horseback.

  Ever since her interview with Captain Allen, she had been chafing underthe sense of obeying his command that she should not ride through thewoods alone. It was less a request than a command he had given her.She had not ridden out alone since that evening—at least, she hadnot ridden through the wood-roads; she had stuck to the highways, andshe felt a sense of resentment that she had done so. What right hadCaptain Allen to issue orders to her? She would now show him that theyhad no effect on her. She would not only go against his wishes, butwould go to the very place he had especially cautioned her against. Shewould see that old woman who had once belonged to him,
and perhaps theold woman would some time tell him she had been there.

  Ruth had no difficulty in finding her way. She knew the road well asfar as the point where the disused road led off from the highway, andshe had a good idea of direction. There she turned into the track thattook her down toward the abandoned plantation, and crossed the zigzagpath that she knew cut through the pines and led down to the Bend. Sheremembered Captain Allen’s pointing it out to her that afternoon, andas she approached the path she galloped her horse rapidly, conscious ofa feeling of exhilaration as she neared it. A quarter of a mile fartheron, the thought occurred to her that it was cowardice to ride rapidly.Why should she do so? And though there was a cloud rising in the west,she pulled her horse down to a walk. The woods were beautiful and werefilled with the odors of grape-blossoms; the path was descending, whichassured her that she was on the right track. A little farther on, as ithad been described to her, it should cross a stream; so she was pleasedto see below her, at the bottom of a little ravine, the thicket throughwhich the stream ran. She rode down into the ravine and to the stream.To her surprise the path appeared suddenly to stop at the water’sedge. There was no outlet on the other side; simply a wall of bushes.Suddenly her horse threw up his head and started violently. At thesame moment a slight noise behind her attracted Ruth’s attention. Sheturned, and in the path behind her stood the negro, Moses.

  The blood deserted Ruth’s face. He had always made her flesh creep, asif he had been a reptile. She had often found him on the side of theroad as she passed along, or had turned and seen him come out of thewoods behind her, but she had never been so close to him before whenalone. And now to find herself face to face with him in that lonelyplace made her heart almost stop. After regarding her for a momentsilently, the negro began to move slowly forward, bowing and haltingwith that peculiar limp which always reminded Ruth of a species ofworm. She would have fled; but she saw in an instant that there was noway of escape. The bushes on either side were like a wall. The sameidea must have passed through the man’s mind. A curious smirk was onhis evil face.

  “My Mistis,” he said, with a grin that showed his yellow teeth andhorrid gums.

  “The path seems to end here,” said Ruth, with an effort commanding hervoice.

  “Yes, my Mistis; but I will show you de way. Old Moses will show you deway. He-he-he.” His voice had a singular feline quality in it. It madeRuth’s blood run cold.

  “No—thank you—I can find it—I shall go back up here and look forit.” She urged her horse back up the path to pass him. But the negrostepped before the horse and blocked the way.

  “Nor’m—dat ain’t de way. I’ll show you de way. Jes’ let Doctor Mosesshow you.” He gave his snicker again, moved closer and put his hand onher bridle.

  This act changed the girl’s fear to anger. “Let go my bridle,instantly!” Her voice rose suddenly. The tone of command took the negroby surprise and he dropped his hand; the next second, however, hecaught her bridle again, so roughly that her horse reared and startedback, and if Ruth had not been a good rider she would have fallen fromthe saddle.

  “I’m _gwine_ to show you.” His tone was now different. He clung to thebridle of the frightened horse. His countenance had changed.

  Raising her riding-whip, Ruth struck him with all her might across theface.

  “Let go my bridle!” she cried.

  He gave a snarl of rage and sprang at her like a wild beast; but herhorse whirled and slung him from his feet and he missed her, onlytearing her skirt. It seemed to Ruth at that moment that she heard thesound of a horse galloping somewhere, and she gave a scream. It wasanswered instantly by a shout back over the hill on the path alongwhich she had come, and the next moment was heard the swift rush of ahorse tearing along on the muffled wood-path back in the woods.

  The negro caught the sound, as he turned to seize Ruth’s bridle again,stopped short and listened intently, then, suddenly wheeling, plungedinto the bushes and went crashing away. That same instant, the horsemandashed over the crest of the hill and came rushing down the path,scattering the stones before him. And before Ruth could take it in,Steve Allen, his face whiter than she had ever seen it, was at her side.

  “What is it? Who was it?” he asked.

  “Nothing. Oh! He frightened me so,” she panted.

  “Who?” His voice was imperious.

  “That negro.”

  “What negro?”

  “The one they call Moses—Doctor Moses.”

  The look that came into Steve’s face was for a second almostterrifying. The next moment, with an effort, he controlled himself.

  “Oh! it was nothing,” he said, lightly. “He is an impudent dog, andmust be taught manners; but don’t be frightened. No one shall hurtyou.” His voice had suddenly grown gentle and soothing, and he led Ruthfrom the subject, talking lightly, and calming her.

  “I told you not to come here alone, you know?” he said, lightly.

  His manner reassured Ruth, and she almost smiled as she said:

  “I thought that was a woman’s revenge.”

  “I did not mean it for revenge; but I want you to promise me now youwill never do it again. Or if you will not promise me, I want you topromise yourself.”

  “I will promise you,” said Ruth. She went on to explain why she came.

  “The old woman you speak of wants nothing,” he said, “and you havepassed the path that leads to her house. That negro misled—you did nottake the right road to reach her place. You should have turned off,some distance back. It was a mere chance—simple Providence, that Icame this way and saw your track and followed you. If you wish to seemy old Mammy I will show you the way. It is the nearest house, and theonly one we can reach before that storm comes, and we shall have tohurry even to get there.”

  Ruth looked over her shoulder, and was frightened at the blacknessof the cloud that had gathered. There was a dense stillness, and theair was murky and hot. Almost at the moment she looked, a streak offlame darted from the cloud and a terrific peal of thunder followedimmediately, showing that the storm was close on them.

  “Come,” he said, and, catching her bridle, Captain Allen headed herhorse up the hill. “Mind the bushes. Keep him well in hand; but put himout.”

  Ruth urged the horse, and gave him the rein, and they dashed up thehill, Steve close at her horse’s flank. It was to be a close graze,even if they escaped at all; for the rising wind, coming in a strongblast, was beginning to rush through the woods, making the trees bendand creak. The bushes swept past her, and dragged Ruth’s hat from herhead. “Keep on! I’ll get it!” called Steve, and leaning from his saddlehe picked it from the ground, and in a moment was up with her again.The thunder was beginning to crash just above their heads, and as theydashed along, the air was filled with flying leaves and small boughs,and big drops were beginning to spatter on them as if driven from agun. Ruth heard Steve’s voice, but could not, in the roar of thewind, tell what he said. The next instant he was beside her, his handoutstretched to steady her horse. She could not distinguish his words;but saw that he meant her to pull in, and she did so. The next secondthey were at a path which led off at an angle from that they were on.Steve turned her horse into it, and a moment later there appeared asmall clearing, on the other side of which was an old cabin. Thatinstant, however, the cloud burst upon them, and the rain came in asheet. Before Ruth could stop her horse at the door, Steve was on theground and had lifted her down as if she had been a child.

  “Run in,” he said, and it never occurred to her to oppose him. Holdingboth horses with one hand, Steve reached across and pushed open thedoor, and put her in. An old negro woman, the only occupant, was facingher, just as she had risen from her chair by the fire, her small blackeyes wide with surprise at the unexpected entrance. The next moment sheadvanced toward Ruth.

  “Come in, Mistis. Is you wet?” she asked.

  “Thank you—why, yes—I am rather—But—” Ruth turned to the door. Shewas thinking of her companion, who was st
ill out in the storm that wasdriving against the house.

  “Yes, to be sho’ you is. I’ll shet de do’.” The old negress moved topush it closer to.

  “No, don’t!” cried Ruth. “He is out there.”

  “Who? Don’t you go out dyah, Mistis.”

  She restrained Ruth, who was about to go out again. But the door waspushed open from the outside, and Steve, dripping wet, with a pile ofbroken pieces of old rails in his arms and Ruth’s saddle in his hand,came in.

  “Marse Steve! My chile! Fo de L—d!” exclaimed the old woman. “Ain’tyou mighty wet?” She had left Ruth, and was feeling Steve’s arms andback.

  “Wet? No, I’m as dry as a bone,” laughed Steve. “Here—make up a goodfire.” He threw the wood on the hearth and began to pile it on thefire, which had been almost extinguished by the rain that came down thebig chimney. “Dry that young lady. I’ve got to go out!” He turned tothe door again.

  “No—please! You must not go out!” cried Ruth, taking a step toward him.

  “I have to go to see after the horses. I must fasten them.”

  “Please don’t. They are all right. I don’t want you to go!” She facedhim boldly. “Please don’t, for my sake!” she pleaded.

  Steve hesitated, and looked about him.

  “I shall be wretched if you go out.” Her face and voice proved thetruth of her assertion.

  “I must go. I am already soaking wet; but I’ll come back directly.” Hisvoice was cheerful, and before Ruth could beg him again, with a sign tothe old woman he was gone, and had pulled the door close to behind him.

  “Heah, he say I is to dry you,” said the old Mammy, and she set a chairbefore the fire and gently but firmly put Ruth in it, and proceededto feel her shoes and clothing. “Dat’s my young master—my chile,”she said, with pride, and in answer to Ruth’s expostulations. “You’re’bliged to do what he say, you know. He’ll be back torectly.”

  Ruth felt that the only way to induce Captain Allen to come in out ofthe storm was to get dried as quickly as possible; so she set to workto help the old woman. Steve did not come back directly, however, norfor some time, and not until Ruth sent him word that she was dry, andhe must come in or she would go out. Then he entered, laughing at theidea that a rain meant anything to him.

  “Why, I am an old soldier. I have slept in such a rain as that, nightafter night, and as soundly as a baby. I enjoy it.” His face, ashe looked at Ruth sitting before the fire, showed that he enjoyedsomething. And as the girl sat there, her long hair down, her eyesfilled with solicitude, and the bright firelight from the blazing,resinous pine shining on her and lighting up the dingy little room,she made a picture to enjoy.

  Old Peggy, bending over her and ministering to her with pleasedofficiousness, caught something of the feeling. A gleam of shrewdnesshad come into her sharp, black eyes.

  “Marse Steve, is dis your lady?” she asked, suddenly, with an admiringlook at Ruth, whose cheeks flamed.

  “No—not—” Steve did not finish the sentence. “What made you thinkso?” He looked very pleased.

  “She so consarned about you. She certainly is pretty,” she said, simply.

  Ruth was blushing violently, and Steve said:

  “I’m not good enough, Mammy, for any lady.”

  “Go ’way, Marse Steve! You know you good ’nough for anybody. Don’t youb’lieve him, young Mistis. I helt him in dese arms when he wa’ n’t sobig;” she measured a length hardly above a span, “and I knows.”

  Ruth thought so too just then, but she did not know what to say.Fortunately Steve came to her rescue.

  “Mammy, you’re the only woman in the world that thinks that.”

  “I know better ’n dat!” declared the old woman, emphatically. “You doestoo, don’t you, my Mistis?” At which Ruth stammered, “Why, yes,” andonly blushed the more. She looked so really distressed that Steve said:

  “Come, Mammy, you mustn’t embarrass your young Mistress.”

  “Nor, indeed—dat I won’t. But you see dyah, you done call her _my_young Mistis!” laughed the old woman, enjoying hugely the confusion ofboth her visitors.

  “It was time to go,” Steve said. So as the storm had passed, theycame out and he saddled Ruth’s horse and handed her into the saddle.He spoke a few words to the old woman, to which she gave a quickaffirmative reply. As they rode off, she said, “You mus’ come again,”which both of them promised and doubtless intended to do.

  The woods were sparkling with the raindrops, and the sky was as if ithad just been newly washed and burnished, and the earth was coveredwith water which shone in the light of the setting sun, like pools ofcrystal.

  Steve bade Miss Welch good-by at her gate. He had scarcely gotten outof sight of her when he changed his easy canter to a long gallop, anda look of grim determination deepened on his face. At the first bywayhe turned off from the main-road and made his way by bridle-paths backto the point where he had rescued Miss Welch. Here he tied his horseand began to examine the bushes carefully. He was able at first tofollow the track that the negro had made in his flight; but after alittle distance it became more difficult. The storm had obliterated thetraces. So Steve returned to the point where he had left his horse,remounted and rode away. He visited Andy Stamper’s and several otherplantations, at all of which he stopped, but only for a few moments tospeak a word or two to the men at each, and then galloped on to thenext, his face still grim and his voice intense with determination.

  That night a small band of horsemen rode through the Bend, visitinghouse after house. They asked for Moses, the trick-doctor. But Moseswas not there. He had left early the morning before, their informantssaid, and had not been back since. There was no doubt as to the truthof this. There was something about that body of horsemen, small thoughit was, riding in pairs, that impressed whomever they accosted, andit was evident that their informants meant to tell the truth. If,on the first summons at a door, the inmates peered out curious andloud-mouthed, they quieted down at the first glance at the silenthorsemen outside.

  “What you want with him?” asked one of the men, inquisitively. Almostinstantly, as if by machinery, two horsemen moved silently in behindhim and cut him out from the group behind. “You know where he is? Comealong.” Their hands were on his collar.

  “Nor, suh, b’fo’ Gord I don’t, gentmens,” protested the negro, almostparalyzed with fright. “I didn’t mean nuttin’ in the worl’, gentmens.”

  At a sign from the leader he was released, and was glad to slip backinto obscurity behind the rest of the awe-struck group, till thehorsemen rode on.

  It was, no doubt, well for the trick-doctor that his shrewdness hadkept him from his accustomed haunts that night. He visited the Bendsecretly a night or two later; but only for a short time, and beforemorning broke he was far away, following the woodland paths, moving athis swift, halting pace, which hour by hour was placing miles betweenhim and the danger he had discovered. Thus the County for a time, atleast, was rid of his presence, and both white and blacks breathedfreer.