The Entailed Hat; Or, Patty Cannon's Times

by George Alfred Townsend

  CHAPTER VI.

  THE CUSTISES RUINED.

  Vesta Custis, dressing in her chamber, heard early wheels upon themorning air, and looking through the blinds saw a double team coming upthe road from Hardship.

  "Mother," she said, "is that father coming, yonder? No, it is not hisdriver."

  "Why, Vesta!" exclaimed Mrs. Custis, "that is old Milburn's man."

  "Samson Hat? so it is. What is he doing with two horses?"

  Here Vesta laughed aloud, and began to skip about in her long, slender,worked slippers, whose insteps would spare a mouse darting under.

  "Mamma, it is Milburn himself, in a hack and span. See there; thesteeple-top hat, copper buckle and all! Isn't he too funny for anything!But, dear me! he is staring right up at this window. Let us duck!"

  Vesta's long, ivory-grained arms, divided from her beautiful shouldersonly by a spray of lace, pulled her mother down.

  "Don't be afraid, dear! he can see nothing but the blinds. Perhaps he islooking for the Judge."

  Vesta rose again in her white morning-gown, like a stag rising from asnow-drift. A long, trembling movement, the result of tittering, passeddown the graceful column of her back.

  "He sits there like an Indian riding past in a show, mamma! Did you eversee such a hat?"

  "I think it must be buggy by this time," said the mother; and both ofthem shook with laughter again. "Unless," added Mrs. Custis, "the bugsare starved out."

  "Poor, lonely creature," said Vesta, "he can only wear such a hat fromwant of understanding."

  "His _understanding_ is good enough, dear. He has the green gaiters on."

  They laughed again, and Vesta's hair, shaken down by her merriment, fellnearly to her slipper, like the skin of some coal-black beast, that hadsprung down a poplar's trunk.

  "Ah! well," exclaimed Vesta, as her maid entered and proceeded to windup this satin cordage on her crown, "what men are in their minds, canwoman know? Old ladies, not unfrequently, wear their old coal-scuttlebonnets long past the fashion, but it is from want. This man is his ownmaster and not poor. His companion is a negro, and his taste a mouldyhat, old as America. How happy are we that it is not necessary to pryinto such minds! A little refinement is the next blessing to religion."

  "Your father's mind is a puzzle, too, Vesta. He has everything whichthese foresters lack,--education, society, standing, and comforts. Buthe returns to the forest, like an opossum, the moment your eye is offhim. He can't be traced up like this man, by his hat. I think it's ashame on you, particularly. If he don't come home this day, I shall sendfor my brother and force an account of my property from Judge Custis!"

  The wife sat down and began to cry.

  "I'll take the carriage after breakfast, mamma, and seek him at theFurnace or wherever he may be. Those bog ores have given him a greatdeal of trouble."

  "I wish I had never heard of bog ore," exclaimed Mrs. Custis. "When themoney was in bank, there was no ore about it. He goes to the forestlooking like a magistrate and a gentleman; he always comes back lookinglike a bog-trotter and a drunkard. There must be _women_ in it!"

  Here, in an impulse of weak rage, the poor lady got up and walked to hermirror and looked at her face. Apparently satisfied that such charmswere trampled on, she dried her tears altogether, and resumed:

  "Ginny, go out of the room! (to the neat mulatto lass). Vesta, my deardaughter, I would not cast a stain upon you for the world; but flesh andblood _will_ cry out. If your father don't do better I will separatefrom him, and leave Princess Anne!"

  "Why, _mother_!"

  The daughter's bright eyes were large and startled now, and theirsteel-blue tint grew plainer under her rich black eyebrows.

  "I will do it, if I die, unless he reforms!"

  "Why, mother!"

  Vesta stood with her lips parted, and her beautiful teeth just lacingthe coral of the lip. She could say no more for a long moment. Rising asshe spoke, with her head thrown back, and her mould the fuller and apallor in her cheeks, she looked the Eve first hearing the Creator'srebuke.

  "A separation in this family?" whispered Vesta. "It would scandalize allMaryland. It would break my heart."

  "Darling daughter, my heart must be considered sometimes. I wassomething before I was a Custis. I am a woman, too."

  Vesta, still pale, crossed to her mother's side and kissed her.

  "Don't, don't, mamma, ever harbor a thought like that again. You, whohave been so brave and patient longer than I have lived!"

  "Ah, Vesta, it is the length of injury that wears us out! What ifsomething should happen to us? None are so unfit to bear poverty as we."

  "We cannot be poor," said the daughter, soothingly. "Don't you remember,mother, where it says: 'As thy day, so shall thy strength be'?".

  "My child," Mrs. Custis replied, "your day is young. Life looks hopefulto you. I am growing old, and where is the arm on which I should beleaning? What are we but two women left? There is another passage onwhich I often think when we sit so often alone: 'Two women shall begrinding at the mill: the one shall be taken and the other left!' Isthat you, or is it I? Listen, my child! it is time that you should feelthe melancholy truth! Your father's habits have mastered him. He isbeyond reclamation!"

  Vesta was kneeling, and she slowly raised her head and looked at hermother, with her nostrils dilated. Mrs. Custis felt uneasy before thearoused mind of her child.

  "Don't look at me so, Vesta," the poor lady pleaded. "I thought youought to know it."

  "How dare you say that of my father? Of Judge Custis?"

  As they were in this suspense of feeling, wheels were heard. Thedaughter went to the window and looked down, and then returned to hermother's ear.

  "Hush, mother, it is papa. Now, wash your eyes at the toilet. Let usmeet him cheerfully. Never say again that he is beyond reclamation,while we can try!"

  A kiss smoothed Mrs. Custis's countenance. Vesta was dressed forbreakfast in a few moments, and descended to the library and wasreceived in her father's arms. He held her there a long while, and heldher close, and by little fits renewed his embrace, but she felt that hisbreath was feverish and his arms trembled. Looking up at him she saw,indeed, that he was flushed, yet haggard and careworn.

  "Vessy," he spoke with a feeble attempt to smile, "I want a glass ofbrandy. Mine gave out at the Furnace, and the morning ride has weakenedme. Where is the key?"

  She looked at him with a half-glance, so that he might not suspect, asif to measure his need of stimulant. Then, without a word, she led theway to the dining-room and unlocked the liquor closet, and turned herback lest he might not drink his need from sensitiveness.

  "Naughty man," said Vesta, standing off and looking at him when he wasdone. "I was going down for you to the Furnace after breakfast. We willhave no more of this truantry. Mamma and I have set our feet down! Youmust come back from the Furnace every night, and go again in themorning, like other business men. Be very kind to mamma this morning,sir! She feels your neglect."

  Vesta had already rung for the Judge's valet, who now appeared, drew offhis boots, supplied his slippers and dressing-gown, and led the way tohis bath. In a quarter of an hour he reappeared, looking better, and heirresolutely turned again towards the dining-room, smiling suggestivelyat Vesta.

  "Not that way," spoke she. "Here is mamma, and we are ready for prayers.Here is the place in the Bible."

  They all went to the family room, where the dressing-maids of Vesta andher mother were waiting for the usual morning prayers. Vesta placed theopen Bible on her father's knee, and he began absently and stumblinglyto read. It was in the book of Samuel, and seemed to be some old Jewishmythology. He suddenly came to a verse which arrested his sensibilitiesby its pathos:

  "'And David sent messengers to Ish-bosheth, Saul's son, saying, Deliverme my wife Michal.... And Ish-bosheth sent, and took her from herhusband, even from Phaltiel, the son of Laish. And her husband went withher along weeping behind her.... Then said Abner unto him: Go, return.And he returned.'"
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br />   Judge Custis saw at once the picture this compact history aroused. Theinexorable David, perhaps, had married another's love. Occasion hadarisen to embitter her kin, and they took her back and gave her inhappiness to her pining lover. But, again, the man of correct habitstriumphed over the sons of the king, and despatched Abner to tear hiswife from her true husband's arms. Poor Phaltiel followed her weeping,until ordered to go back--and back he went, forever desolate.

  The scene recalled the brutal demand of his creditor upon his child. TheJudge's eyes silently o'erflowed, and he could not see.

  Vesta had watched him closely, as her silent magistracy detected a greatanxiety or illness in her father. Lest her mother might also notice it,she interposed in the lesson, as was her habit, by reading the Episcopalform of prayer, in which they all bent their heads. Once or twice, asshe went on, she detected a suppressed sob, especially at the paragraph:"Thou who knowest the weakness and corruption of our nature, and themanifold temptations which we daily meet with, we humbly beseech thee tohave compassion on our infirmities and to give us the constantassistance of thy Holy Spirit, that we may be effectually restrainedfrom sin and excited to our duty!"

  They went to the breakfast-table, and the Judge's countenance was down.He bit off some toast and filled his mouth with tea, but could notswallow. A hand softly touched his elbow, and, looking there, he saw awine-glass full of brandy softly glide to the spot. As he looked up andsaw the rich, yearning face of his dark-eyed daughter tenderlyconsulting his weakness, his heart burst forth; he leaned his head uponthe table and cried, between drink and grief:

  "Darling, we are ruined!"

  Mrs. Custis at once arose, and looked frightenedly at the Judge. Vestaas quickly turned to the servants and motioned them to go.

  "No, let them hear it!" raved Judge Custis, perceiving the motion. "Theyare interested, like us. They must be sold, too. Faithful servants!Perhaps it may warn them to escape in time!"

  The servants, bred like ladies, quietly left the room.

  Mrs. Custis, growing paler, exclaimed:

  "Daniel Custis, have you lost everything in that furnace?"

  "Everything!"

  "And my money, too?"

  "Yes."

  "Merciful God!"

  Before the weak lady could fall Vesta's arm was around her, and herfinger on the table-bell. Servants entered and Mrs. Custis was carriedout, her daughter following.

  When Vesta returned her father was walking up and down the floor withhis long silk handkerchief in both hands, weeping bitterly, and speakingbroken syllables. She looked at him a moment with all the might of adaughter, first called on to act alone in a great crisis. The feelingshe was wont to hold towards him, of perfect pride, had received a blowin her mother's expression: "Your father's habits have mastered himbeyond reclamation."

  Could this be true; that he, the grand, the kind, the gentleman, wasbeneath the diver's reach, the plummet's sounding, where light could notpierce, nor Hope overtake? _Her_ father, the first gentleman inSomerset, a drunkard, going ever downward towards the gutter, and no rayof heaven to beam upon his grave!

  She saw his danger now: it was written on his face, where the image ofGod shone dim that had once been crowned there. Hair thinner, and verygray; the rich, dark eyes intimidated, as if manly confidence was gone;the skin no more the pure scroll of regular life written in the healthyfluid of the heart, but faded, yet spotted with alcohol; on the nose andlips signs of coarser sensuality; the large skeleton bent and thenervous temperament shattered. This father had been until this momentVesta's angel. Now, there might not be an angel in the universe to flyto his rescue. Deep, dreadful humility descended into the daughter'sspirit.

  "God forgive me!" she thought, "how blind and how proud and sinful Ihave been!"

  She walked over to her father tenderly and kissed him, and then, drawinghis weaker inclination by hers, brought him to a sofa, placed a pillowfor him, and made him stretch his once proud form there. Procuring abowl of water, she washed his face free of tears with a napkin, andbathed it in cologne. The voluptuous nature of the Judge yielded to theperfume and the easy position, and he sobbed himself to sleep like anexhausted child.

  Sitting by the sleeping bankrupt, watching his breast rise and fall, andhearing his coarse snoring, as if fiends within were snarling in rivalryfor the possession of him, Vesta felt that the life which wasunconscious there was the fountain of her own, and, loving no man else,she felt her heart like a goldfish of that fountain, go around andaround it throbbingly.

  Then first arose the wish, often in woman's life repeated, to have beenborn a man and know how to help her father. That suggested that she hadbrothers who ought to be summoned, and confer with their father; but nowit occurred to her that every one of them had leaned upon him; and,though conscious that it was wicked, Vesta felt her pride rise againstthe thought that any being outside of that house, even a brother, shouldknow of its disgrace.

  What could she do? She thought of all her jewels, her riding mare, herwatch, her father's own gifts, and then the thought perished that thesecould help him.

  Could she not earn something by her voice, which had sung to suchpraises? Alas! that voice had lost the ingredient of hope, and shefeared to unclose her lips lest it might come forth in agony, crying,"God, have mercy!"

  "I have nothing," said Vesta to herself; "except love for these twomartyrs, my father and mother. No, nothing can be done until he awakensand tells me the worst. Meantime it would be wicked for me to increasethe agitation already here, and where I must be the comforter."