Red Rock: A Chronicle of Reconstruction

by Thomas Nelson Page

  CHAPTER XLIII

  MISS WELCH HEARS A PIECE OF NEWS

  Ruth had heard of Captain Allen’s surrender the day after it tookplace. Mrs. Stamper, passing through from the railway on her way homefrom a visit to her husband in jail, had stopped and told her all aboutit. Ruth almost fell to the ground during Mrs. Stamper’s narration. Shecould scarcely stand up. When Mrs. Stamper had passed on, Ruth rushedinto the house and was on her way to her own room when she met hermother.

  “What on earth is it, Ruth?”

  “Oh, mamma!” Ruth began, but was unable to proceed, and burst intotears. Mrs. Welch also had heard the story; and she divined the causeof her agitation, and drew her into her chamber, and there Ruth openedher heart to her mother.

  “I know I ought to hate him, mamma,” she wept, “but I do not. I havetried to hate him, and prayed—yes, prayed to hate him; but I like himbetter than any man I ever met or ever shall meet, and even when I cuthim on the road I liked him. I hate myself; I am humiliated to thinkthat I should care for a man who has never said he loved me.”

  “But he has said so, Ruth,” declared Mrs. Welch.

  “What?” Ruth’s eyes opened wide with a vague awaking something.

  “He came to see your father, and asked his consent to pay you hisaddresses.”

  Ruth sprang to her feet as if electrified.

  “Mamma!” The blood rushed to her face and back again. She seized hermother, and poured out question after question. Her whole person seemedto change. She looked like a different being. A radiance appeared tohave suddenly settled down upon her and enveloped her. Mrs. Welchwas carried away by her enthusiasm, and could not help enjoying herjoy. For once she let herself go, and gave herself up to the delightof thorough and complete sympathy with her daughter. She told hereverything that had occurred, and Ruth in return told her mother allthat she knew and thought of Steve. Thus Mrs. Welch became Ruth’sconfidante, and, in her sympathy with Ruth’s happiness, committedherself on Ruth’s side beyond hope of withdrawal.

  Just then Major Welch opened the door. He stopped and looked in on thescene in wonderment. Ruth rose and flung herself into his arms.

  In the conference that ensued, Ruth, however, found ground for moredistress. Her father had heard the whole story of Captain Allen’ssurrender of himself. He had just got it from Thurston. He also knew ofthe telegrams Thurston had received in response to his giving noticeof the surrender, and he was full of anxiety. He was by no means surethat Captain Allen, however high his motive, had done a wise act ingiving himself up. He did not believe his action would be effectual toobtain the release of his friends, and he had put himself in the powerof those who would move heaven and earth to secure his conviction. Thedispatches that had come from the city clearly indicated this.

  Under the new revelation that Major Welch had received, his interest inCaptain Allen naturally increased beyond measure, and he showed it. Hisonly hope was that proof as to Captain Allen’s case might not be easy.The new laws under which the prosecutions were being pressed aimed atrecent acts, and it might not be possible to prove Captain Allen’sparticipation in these acts.

  His carrying Leech off could, of course, be proved; but while Leechwould naturally push the prosecution for this, as Leech had returned,the Government might not now take that so seriously. As her fatherdiscussed Captain Allen’s chances earnestly, Ruth sat and listened withbated breath, her eyes, wide with anxiety, fixed on his face, her handstightly clasped, her color coming and going as hope and fear alternated.

  It was a few days after this, that she had her brief interview withLeech.

  The next day after that interview an official rode up to the door andserved a summons on Ruth to appear as a witness for the prosecution inthe case of the Government against Stevenson Allen. With this noticehe brought also a letter to Major Welch from Leech, who wrote MajorWelch that for reasons of importance to the Government he had found itnecessary to request his daughter’s attendance at the trial. The letterwas full of expressions of regret that he should have to cause MajorWelch’s daughter any inconvenience. She was the only one, he said, whocould prove certain facts material to the case for the Government.

  As Major Welch read the letter his countenance fell. Ruth’s knowledgeof Captain Allen’s confession of his part in the Ku Klux organizationhad filled out Leech’s case, and Captain Allen was in graver dangerthan he had apprehended. The next day it was known in the County thatRuth had been summoned by Leech, and that the object of the summons wasto have her prove Captain Allen’s confession to her of his part in theacts of the Ku Klux. It was stated that Leech had written Major Welchto obtain the information from him, and that Major Welch had repliedthat his daughter would be on hand, dead or alive. The excitement inthe community was intense; and the feeling against the Welches flamedforth stronger than it had ever been—stronger even than before thetrial of Jacquelin’s case. Intimations of this came to the Welches,and they could not ride out without encountering the hostile looksof their neighbors. It was asserted by some that Major Welch and hisdaughter had trapped Steve, and were taking their revenge for his partin Jacquelin’s suit. Major Welch received one or two anonymous lettersaccusing him of this, and warning him to leave the country withoutattempting to push his malice farther.

  As the Major treated these letters with the contempt they deserved, anddestroyed them without letting either Mrs. Welch or Ruth know anythingabout them, they would have given him no further concern except for thefact that he had made up his mind to go North just then on business.The letters came near preventing his going; but as the matter wasurgent, he went, and the rumor got abroad that he had left on accountof the letters.

  Ruth was in a state of great distress. She hoped she would die beforethe day of the trial; and, indeed, to have seen her, one might havethought it not unlikely. Dr. Cary was sent for. He prescribed changeof air and scene. Mrs. Welch shook her head sadly. That was impossiblejust now. “You look as though you needed change yourself, Doctor,” shesaid. And well she might say so. The Doctor had aged years in the lastweeks. His face had never lost the prison pallor.

  “No madam—I think not,” he said, calmly, his hand resting against hisbreast. Mrs. Welch did not know that he meant that he was past that now.

  “Then you must take a rest,” urged Mrs. Welch.

  “Yes, I think I shall take a rest before long,” said he.

  Ruth was out riding one afternoon just after this when she met oldWaverley. She stopped to inquire after Miss Thomasia who she hadheard was ill. The old man was actually short to her. “I don’ thinkshe’ll last long now,” he said, so significantly that it pierced thegirl’s breast like a knife. Ruth had always felt that Miss Thomasiaand she had one thing in common, and Miss Thomasia had always beensweet and gracious to her. Now the picture of the old lady at home,lonely and ill from anxiety and distress, pursued her. She could notget away from it. At length she turned her horse, and rode slowlyback to the little cottage amid the vines. An air of stillness thatwas oppressive surrounded the place. For a few moments Ruth thoughtof drawing back and going home. Then her courage returned. She sprangfrom her horse, and, tying him, walked up to the door and knocked.The knock was answered by old Peggy. The old woman’s eyes darted fireat Ruth, as she answered her. She did not know whether Ruth could seeMiss Thomasia or not—she thought not. Miss Thomasia was asleep. Ruth,however, persisted; she would wait until Miss Thomasia waked up. Shetook her seat quietly on the little veranda. The old woman lookedpuzzled and disappeared. Presently she returned, and said Miss Thomasiawould see Ruth. Ruth went in. Miss Thomasia was sitting up in a littlerocking-chair. Ruth was astounded to see the difference in her sinceshe saw her last. She looked years older. She received Ruth civilly,but distantly, and let her do the talking. Ruth kept well away from theone subject that was uppermost in both their minds. Presently, however,in face of her impenetrable coldness, Ruth could stand it no longer.She rose to go, and bade the old lady good-by.

  “Good-by, my dear,�
� said Miss Thomasia. They were the words with whichshe always said her adieus. Her voice was feeble, and she spoke verylow. There was something in her tone, something of resignation andforgiveness, that went to Ruth’s heart, and as she turned away—a deepsigh caught her ear. She turned back. Miss Thomasia’s thin hands weretightly clasped, her eyes were shut, and her lips were trembling. Thenext moment Ruth was down on her knees beside her, her head buried inher lap, pouring out her story.

  “I must tell you,” she sobbed. “I came to tell you, and I cannot goaway and not tell you. I know you love him, and I know you hate me. Youhave a right to hate me; they all hate me, and think I am hard andcruel. But I am not, and neither is my father.”

  She went on, and, as she told her story, the other lady’s hands cameand rested on her head and lifted her up, and the two women wepttogether.

  A little later Blair came in, and stopped, surprised, on the threshold.The next moment she and Ruth were in each other’s arms, weepingtogether; while Miss Thomasia, with her face brighter than it hadbeen since the news reached her of Steve’s surrender, smiled on them.Presently old Peggy opened the door, thinking perhaps Ruth had beenthere long enough. She gazed on the scene in wonder for a moment, andthen closed the door. “Well, dee beats me,” she muttered. When Ruthleft, Miss Thomasia looked better than she had done in days, and Ruth’sown heart was lighter. That night Blair asked old Mr. Bagby if therewas no way in which a woman could avoid giving evidence against a man,if she were summoned and did not wish to testify.

  “One,” said the old lawyer “—two: she can die.”