The Clansman: An Historical Romance of the Ku Klux Klan

by Thomas Dixon

  CHAPTER XI

  THE BEAT OF A SPARROW'S WING

  Dr. Cameron's appeal had left the old Commoner unshaken in his idea. Therecould be but one side to any question with such a man, and that was hisside. He would stand by his own men, too. He believed in his own forces.The bayonet was essential to his revolutionary programme--hence the handwhich held it could do no wrong. Wrongs were accidents which might occurunder any system.

  Yet in no way did he display the strange contradictions of his characterso plainly as in his inability to hate the individual who stood for theidea he was fighting with maniac fury. He liked Dr. Cameron instantly,though he had come to do a crime that would send him into beggared exile.

  Individual suffering he could not endure. In this the doctor's appeal hadstartling results.

  He sent for Mrs. Lenoir and Marion.

  "I understand, Madam," he said gravely, "that your house and farm are tobe sold for taxes."

  "Yes, sir; we've given it up this time. Nothing can be done," was thehopeless answer.

  "Would you consider an offer of twenty dollars an acre?"

  "Nobody would be fool enough to offer it. You can buy all the land in thecounty for a dollar an acre. It's not worth anything."

  "I disagree with you," said Stoneman cheerfully. "I am looking far ahead.I would like to make an experiment here with Pennsylvania methods on thisland. I'll give you ten thousand dollars cash for your five hundred acresif you will take it."

  "You don't mean it?" Mrs. Lenoir gasped, choking back the tears.

  "Certainly. You can at once return to your home. I'll take another house,and invest your money for you in good Northern securities."

  The mother burst into sobs, unable to speak, while Marion threw her armsimpulsively around the old man's neck and kissed him.

  His cold eyes were warmed with the first tear they had shed in years.

  He moved the next day to the Ross estate, which he rented, had Sam broughtback to the home of his childhood in charge of a good-natured whiteattendant, and installed in one of the little cottages on the lawn. Heordered Lynch to arrest the keeper of the poor, and hold him on a chargeof assault with intent to kill, awaiting the action of the Grand Jury. TheLieutenant-Governor received this order with sullen anger--yet he saw toits execution. He was not quite ready for a break with the man who hadmade him.

  Astonished at his new humour, Phil and Elsie hastened to confess to himtheir love affairs and ask his approval of their choice. His reply wascautious, yet he did not refuse his consent. He advised them to wait a fewmonths, allow him time to know the young people, and get his bearings onthe conditions of Southern society. His mood of tenderness was a startlingrevelation to them of the depth and intensity of his love.

  When Mrs. Lenoir returned with Marion to her vine-clad home, she spent thefirst day of perfect joy since the death of her lover husband. The deedhad not yet been made of the transfer of the farm, but it was only aquestion of legal formality. She was to receive the money in the form ofinterest-bearing securities and deliver the title on the followingmorning.

  Arm in arm, mother and daughter visited again each hallowed spot, with thesweet sense of ownership. The place was in perfect order. Its flowers werein gorgeous bloom, its walks clean and neat, the fences painted, and thegates swung on new hinges.

  They stood with their arms about one another, watching the sun sink behindthe mountains, with tears of gratitude and hope stirring their souls.

  Ben Cameron strode through the gate, and they hurried to meet him withcries of joy.

  "Just dropped in a minute to see if you are snug for the night," he said.

  "Of course, snug and so happy we've been hugging one another for hours,"said the mother. "Oh, Ben, the clouds have lifted at last!"

  "Has Aunt Cindy come yet?" he asked.

  "No, but she'll be here in the morning to get breakfast. We don't wantanything to eat," she answered.

  "Then I'll come out when I'm through my business to-night, and sleep inthe house to keep you company."

  "Nonsense," said the mother, "we couldn't think of putting you to thetrouble. We've spent many a night here alone."

  "But not in the past two years," he said with a frown.

  "We're not afraid," Marion said with a smile. "Besides, we'd keep youawake all night with our laughter and foolishness, rummaging through thehouse."

  "You'd better let me," Ben protested.

  "No," said the mother, "we'll be happier to-night alone, with only God'seye to see how perfectly silly we can be. Come and take supper with usto-morrow night. Bring Elsie and her guitar--I don't like the banjo--andwe'll have a little love feast with music in the moonlight."

  "Yes, do that," cried Marion. "I know we owe this good luck to her. I wantto tell her how much I love her for it."

  "Well, if you insist on staying alone," said Ben reluctantly, "I'll bringMiss Elsie to-morrow, but I don't like your being here without Aunt Cindyto-night."

  "Oh, we're all right!" laughed Marion, "but what I want to know is whatyou are doing out so late every night since you've come home, and whereyou were gone for the past week?"

  "Important business," he answered soberly.

  "Business--I expect!" she cried. "Look here, Ben Cameron, have you anothergirl somewhere you're flirting with?"

  "Yes," he answered slowly, coming closer and his voice dropping to awhisper, "and her name is Death."

  "Why, Ben!" Marion gasped, placing her trembling hand unconsciously on hisarm, a faint flush mantling her cheek and leaving it white.

  "What do you mean?" asked the mother in low tones.

  "Nothing that I can explain. I only wish to warn you both never to ask mesuch questions before any one."

  "Forgive me," said Marion, with a tremor. "I didn't think it serious."

  Ben pressed the little warm hand, watching her mouth quiver with a smilethat was half a sigh, as he answered:

  "You know I'd trust either of you with my life, but I can't be toocareful."

  "We'll remember, Sir Knight," said the mother. "Don't forget, then,to-morrow--and spend the evening with us. I wish I had one of Marion's newdresses done. Poor child, she has never had a decent dress in her lifebefore. You know I never look at my pretty baby grown to such a beautifulwomanhood without hearing Henry say over and over again--'Beauty is a signof the soul--the body is the soul!'"

  "Well, I've my doubts about your improving her with a fine dress," hereplied thoughtfully. "I don't believe that more beautifully dressed womenever walked the earth than our girls of the South who came out of the warclad in the pathos of poverty, smiling bravely through the shadows,bearing themselves as queens though they wore the dress of theshepherdess."

  "I'm almost tempted to kiss you for that, as you once took advantage ofme!" said Marion, with enthusiasm.

  The moon had risen and a whippoorwill was chanting his weird song on thelawn as Ben left them leaning on the gate.

  * * * * *

  It was past midnight before they finished the last touches in restoringtheir nest to its old homelike appearance and sat down happy and tired inthe room in which Marion was born, brooding and dreaming and talking overthe future.

  The mother was hanging on the words of her daughter, all the baffled loveof the dead poet husband, her griefs and poverty consumed in the glowingjoy of new hopes. Her love for this child was now a triumphant passion,which had melted her own being into the object of worship, until the soulof the daughter was superimposed on the mother's as the magnetized by themagnetizer.

  "And you'll never keep a secret from me, dear?" she asked Marion.

  "Never."

  "You'll tell me all your love affairs?" she asked softly, as she drew theshining blonde head down on her shoulder.

  "Faithfully."

  "You know I've been afraid sometimes you were keeping something back fromme, deep down in your heart--and I'm jealous. You didn't refuse HenryGrier because you loved Ben Cameron--now, did y
ou?"

  The little head lay still before she answered:

  MAE MARSH AS THE VICTIM OF RECONSTRUCTION.]

  "How many times must I tell you, Silly, that I've loved Ben since I canremember, that I will always love him, and when I meet my fate, at last, Ishall boast to my children of my sweet girl romance with the Hero ofPiedmont, and they shall laugh and cry with me over----"

  "What's that?" whispered the mother, leaping to her feet.

  "I heard nothing," Marion answered, listening.

  "I thought I heard footsteps on the porch."

  "Maybe it's Ben, who decided to come anyhow," said the girl.

  "But he'd knock!" whispered the mother.

  The door flew open with a crash, and four black brutes leaped into theroom, Gus in the lead, with a revolver in his hand, his yellow teethgrinning through his thick lips.

  "Scream now, an' I blow yer brains out," he growled.

  Blanched with horror, the mother sprang before Marion with a shiveringcry:

  "What do you want?"

  "Not you," said Gus, closing the blinds and handing a rope to anotherbrute. "Tie de ole one ter de bedpost."

  The mother screamed. A blow from a black fist in her mouth, and the ropewas tied.

  With the strength of despair she tore at the cords, half rising to herfeet, while with mortal anguish she gasped:

  "For God's sake, spare my baby! Do as you will with me, and kill me--donot touch her!"

  Again the huge fist swept her to the floor.

  Marion staggered against the wall, her face white, her delicate lipstrembling with the chill of a fear colder than death.

  "We have no money--the deed has not been delivered," she pleaded, a suddenglimmer of hope flashing in her blue eyes.

  Gus stepped closer, with an ugly leer, his flat nose dilated, his sinisterbead eyes wide apart, gleaming apelike, as he laughed:

  "We ain't atter money!"

  The girl uttered a cry, long, tremulous, heart-rending, piteous.

  A single tiger spring, and the black claws of the beast sank into the softwhite throat and she was still.