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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5659360 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #69145 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/69145) diff --git a/old/69145-0.txt b/old/69145-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 0057494..0000000 --- a/old/69145-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8964 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Caleb Trench, by Mary Imlay Taylor - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Caleb Trench - -Author: Mary Imlay Taylor - -Illustrator: Emlen McConnell - -Release Date: October 12, 2022 [eBook #69145] - -Language: English - -Produced by: D A Alexander, David E. Brown, and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was - produced from images generously made available by - University of California libraries) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CALEB TRENCH *** - - - - - -CALEB TRENCH - - -[Illustration] - - - - - CALEB TRENCH - - BY - MARY IMLAY TAYLOR - - AUTHOR OF “THE REAPING,” “THE - IMPERSONATOR,” ETC. - - WITH FRONTISPIECE BY - EMLEN McCONNELL - - BOSTON - LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY - 1910 - - - - - _Copyright, 1910_, - BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY. - - _All rights reserved_ - - Published March, 1910 - - THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, U. S. A. - - - - -CALEB TRENCH - - - - -CALEB TRENCH - - - - -I - - -DIANA ROYALL pushed back the music-rack and rose from her seat at the -piano. - -“Show the person in here, Kingdom.” - -The negro disappeared, and Diana moved slowly to the table at the -farther end of the long room, and stood there turning over some papers -in her leisurely, graceful way. - -“Who in the world is it now?” Mrs. Eaton asked, looking up from her -solitaire, “a book agent?” - -“Caleb Trench,” Diana replied carelessly, “the shopkeeper at Eshcol.” - -“The storekeeper?” Mrs. Eaton looked as if Diana had said the -chimney-sweep. “What in the world does he want of you, my dear?” - -Diana laughed. “How should I know?” she retorted, with a slight -scornful elevation of her brows; “we always pay cash there.” - -“I wonder that you receive him in the drawing-room,” Mrs. Eaton -remonstrated, shuffling her cards with delicate, much be-ringed -fingers, and that indefinable manner which lingers with some old -ladies, like their fine old lace and their ancestors, and is at once a -definition and classification. Thus, one could see, at a glance, that -Mrs. Eaton had been a belle before the war, for, as we all know, the -atmosphere of belledom is as difficult to dissipate and forget as the -poignant aroma of a moth-ball in an old fur coat, though neither of -them may have served the purposes of preservation. - -The girl made no reply, and the older woman was instinctively aware -of her indifference to her opinions, uttered or unexpressed. There -were times when Diana’s absorption of mood, her frank inattention, -affected her worldly mentor as sharply as a slap in the face, yet, -the next moment, she fell easily under the spell of her personality. -Mrs. Eaton always felt that no one could look at her youthful relative -without feeling that her soul must be as beautiful as her body, though -she herself had never been able to form any estimate of that soul. -Diana hid it with a reserve and a mental strength which folded it away -as carefully as the calyx of a cactus guards the delicate bloom with -its thorns. But the fact that Mrs. Eaton overlooked was still more -apparent, the fact that a great many people never thought of Diana’s -soul at all, being quite content to admire the long and exquisite -curves of her tall figure, the poise of her graceful head, with the -upward wave of its bright hair, and the level glance of her dear eyes -under their thick dark lashes. There was something fine about her -vitality, her freshness, the perfection of her dress and her bearing, -which seemed so harmoniously accentuated by the subdued elegance of -the charming old room. Nature had specialized her by the divine touch -of a beauty that apparently proclaimed the possession of an equally -beautiful spirit; not even the flesh and blood surface seemed always -impenetrable, but rather delicately transparent to every spiritual -variation, like the crystal sphere of the magician. But Mrs. Eaton, -pondering on her young cousin’s personality from a more frivolous -standpoint, took alarm most readily at her independence, and was -overcome now with the impropriety of receiving a village shopkeeper in -the drawing-room after dinner. - -“My dear,” she remonstrated again, “hadn’t you better speak to him in -the hall?” - -Diana looked up from her paper, slightly bored. “In that case, Cousin -Jinny, you couldn’t hear what he said,” she remarked composedly. - -Mrs. Eaton reddened and put a three spot on her ace instead of a two. -“I do not care to--” she began and paused, her utterance abruptly -suspended by the shock of a new perception. - -For, at that moment, Kingdom-Come announced Diana’s unbidden guest and -Mrs. Eaton forgot what she was going to say, forgot her manners in -fact, and gazed frankly at the big man who came slowly and awkwardly -into the room. His appearance, indeed, had quite a singular effect -upon her. She wondered vaguely if she could be impressed, or if it was -only the result of the unexpected contact with the lower class? She -was fond of speaking of the Third Estate; she had found the expression -somewhere during her historical peckings, and appropriated it at once -as a comprehensive phrase with an aristocratic flavor, though its true -meaning proved a little elusive. - -Meanwhile, the unwelcome visitor was confronting Miss Royall and there -was a moment of audible silence. Diana met his glance more fully -than she had ever been aware of doing before, in her brief visits to -his shop, and, like her elderly cousin, she received a new and vital -impression, chiefly from the depth and lucidity of his gaze, which -seemed to possess both composure and penetration; she felt her cheeks -flush hotly, yet was conscious that his look was neither familiar nor -offending, but was rather the glance of a personality as strong as her -own. - -“You wish to speak to me?” she said impatiently, forgetting the fine -courtesy that she usually showed to an inferior. - -As she spoke, her father and Jacob Eaton came in from the dining-room -and, pausing within the wide low doorway, were silent spectators of the -scene. - -“I wished to see you, yes,” said Trench quietly, advancing to the table -and deliberately putting some pennies on it. “When you bought that -piece of muslin this morning I gave you the wrong change. After you -left the shop I found I owed you six cents. I walked over with it this -evening as soon as I closed the doors. I would have left it with your -servant at the door, but he insisted that I must see you in person.” -He added this gravely, deliberately allowing her to perceive that he -understood his reception. - -Diana bit her lip to suppress a smile, and was conscious that Jacob -Eaton was openly hilarious. She was half angry, too, because Trench -had put her in the wrong by recognizing her discourtesy and treating -it courteously. Beyond the circle of the lamplight was the critical -audience of her home-life, her father’s stately figure and white head, -Mrs. Eaton’s elderly elegance, and Jacob’s worldly wisdom. She looked -at Trench with growing coldness. - -“Thank you,” she said, “shall I give you a receipt?” - -He met her eye an instant, and she saw that he was fully cognizant of -her sarcasm. “As you please,” he replied unmoved. - -She felt herself rebuked again, and her anger kindled unreasonably -against the man who was smarting under her treatment. She went to the -table, and taking a sheet of folded note-paper wrote a receipt and -signed it, handing it to him with a slight haughty inclination of the -head which was at once an acknowledgment and a dismissal. - -But again he met her with composure. He took the paper, folded it -twice and put it in his pocketbook, then he bade her good evening and, -passing Eaton with scarcely a glance, bowed to Colonel Royall and went -out, his awkward figure in its rough tweed suit having made a singular -effect in the old-fashioned elegance of Colonel Royall’s house, an -effect that fretted Diana’s pride, for it had seemed to her that, as -he passed, he had overshadowed her own father and dwarfed Jacob Eaton. -Yet, at the time, she thought of none of these things. She pushed the -offending pennies across the table. - -“Cousin Jinny,” she said carelessly, “there are some Peter pence for -your dago beggars.” - -Cousin Jinny gathered up the pennies and dropped them thoughtfully into -the little gold-linked purse on her chatelaine. For years she had been -contributing a yearly subsidy to the ever increasing family of a former -gondolier, the unforgotten grace of whose slender legs had haunted -her memory for twenty years, during which period she had been the -recipient of annual announcements of twins and triplets, whose arrivals -invariably punctuated peculiarly unremunerative years. - -“That man,” she said, referring to Trench and not the gondolier, “that -man is an anarchist.” - -Mrs. Eaton had a settled conviction that all undesirable persons were -anarchists. To her nebulous vision innumerable immigrant ships were -continually unloading anarchists in bulk, as merchantmen might unship -consignments of Sea Island cotton or Jamaica rum; and every fresh -appearance of the social unwashed was to her an advent of an atom from -these incendiary cargoes. - -“I hope you were careful about your receipt, Diana,” said Jacob Eaton, -stopping to light a cigarette at the tall candelabrum on the piano. -“How far did your admirer walk to bring that consignment of pennies?” - -“My admirer?” Diana shot a scornful glance at him. “I call it an -intrusion.” - -“Did he walk over from that little shop at Cross-Roads?” Mrs. Eaton -asked. “I seem to remember a shop there.” - -“It’s seven miles,” said Colonel Royall, speaking for the first time, -“and the roads are bad. I think he is merely scrupulously honest, -Diana,” he added; “I was watching his face.” - -Diana flushed under her father’s eye. “I suppose he is,” she said -reluctantly, “but, pshaw--six cents! He could have handed it to a -servant.” - -“Do you send the servants there?” Colonel Royall asked pointedly. - -“No,” she admitted reluctantly, “I suppose he rarely sees any one from -here, but there was Kingdom at the door.” - -“Who insisted on his seeing you, you remember,” objected her father; -“the soul of Kingdom-Come is above six pennies.” - -“Well, so is mine!” exclaimed Diana pettishly. - -“Seven miles in red clay mud to see you,” mocked Jacob Eaton, smiling -at her. - -“Nonsense!” she retorted. - -“I don’t see why you take that tone, Jacob,” warned his mother a little -nervously. “I call it bad taste; he couldn’t presume to--to--” - -“To walk seven miles?” her son laughed “My dear lady, I’d walk -seventeen to see Diana.” - -“My dear courtier, throw down your cloak in the mud and let me walk -upon it,” retorted Diana scornfully. - -“I have thrown down, instead, my heart,” he replied in a swift -undertone. - -But Diana was watching her father and apparently did not hear him. -Colonel Royall had moved to his usual big chair by the hearth. A few -logs were kindling there, for, though it was early in April, it was a -raw chill evening. The firelight played on the noble and gentle lines -of the colonel’s old face, on his white hair and moustache and in the -mild sweetness of his absent-minded eyes. His daughter, looking at him -fondly, thought him peculiarly sad, and wondered if it was because they -were approaching an anniversary in that brief sad married life which -seemed to have left a scar too deep for even her tender touch. - -“I don’t mind about the amount--six cents may be as sacred to him as -six dollars,” he was saying. “The man has a primitive face, the lines -are quite remarkable, and--” he leaned back and looked over at the -young man by the piano--“Jacob, I’ve heard of this Caleb Trench three -times this week in politics.” - -“A village orator?” mocked Eaton, without dropping his air of -nonchalant superiority, an air that nettled Colonel Royall as much as a -heat-rash. - -He shook his head impatiently. “Ask Mahan,” he said. “I don’t know, -but twice I’ve been told that Caleb Trench could answer this or that, -and yesterday--” he leaned back, shading his eyes with his hand as -he looked into the fire--“yesterday--what was it? Oh--” he stopped -abruptly, and a delicate color, almost a woman’s blush, went up to his -hair. - -“And yesterday?” asked Eaton, suddenly alert, his mocking tone lost, -the latent shrewdness revealing itself through the thin mask of his -commonplace good looks. - -“Well, I heard that he was opposed to Aylett’s methods,” Colonel Royall -said, with evident reluctance, “and that he favored Yarnall.” - -Mrs. Eaton started violently and dropped her pack of cards, and Diana -and she began to gather them up again, Cousin Jinny’s fingers trembling -so much that the girl had to find them all. - -Jacob stood listening, his eyelids drooping over his eyes and his upper -lip twitching a little at the corners like a dog who is puckering his -lip to show his fangs. “Yarnall is a candidate for governor,” he said -coolly. - -Colonel Royall frowned slightly. “I’d rather keep Aylett,” he rejoined. - -“Yarnall had no strength a week ago, but to-day the back counties are -supporting him,” said Eaton, “why, heaven knows! Some one must be -organizing them, but who?” - -Colonel Royall drummed on the arm of his chair with his fingers. “Since -the war there’s been an upheaval,” he said thoughtfully. “It was like -a whirlpool, stirred the mud up from the bottom, and we’re getting it -now. No one can predict anything; it isn’t the day for an old-fashioned -gentleman in politics.” - -“Which is an admission that shopkeepers ought to be in them,” suggested -Jacob, without emotion. - -Colonel Royall laughed. “Maybe it is,” he admitted, “anyway I’m not -proud of my own party out here. I’m willing to stand by my colors, but -I’m usually heartily ashamed of the color bearer. It’s not so much the -color of one’s political coat as the lining of one’s political pockets. -I wish I had Abe Lincoln’s simple faith. What we need now is a man -who isn’t afraid to speak the truth; he’d loom up like Saul among the -prophets.” - -“Again let me suggest the shopkeeper at the Cross-Roads,” said Jacob -Eaton. - -Colonel Royall smiled sadly. “Why not?” he said. “Lincoln was a -barefoot boy. Why not Caleb Trench? Since he’s honest over little -things, he might be over great things.” - -“Is he a Democrat?” Jacob asked suavely. - -“On my word, I don’t know,” replied Colonel Royall. “He’s in Judge -Hollis’ office reading law, so William Cheyney told me.” - -“That old busybody!” Jacob struck the ashes from his cigarette -viciously. - -“Hush!” said Diana, “treason! Don’t you say a word against Dr. Cheyney. -I’ve loved him these many years.” - -“A safe sentiment,” said Jacob. “I’m content to be his rival. Alas, if -he were the only one!” - -“What did you say Caleb Trench was doing in the judge’s office, pa?” -Diana asked, ignoring her cousin. - -“Reading law, my dear,” the colonel answered. - -“I thought he was a poor shopkeeper,” objected Mrs. Eaton. - -“So he is, Jinny,” said the colonel; “but he’s reading law at night. -It’s all mightily to his credit.” - -“He’s altogether too clever, then,” said Mrs. Eaton firmly; “it is just -as I said, he’s an anarchist!” - -“Dear me, let’s talk of some one else,” Diana protested. “The man must -have hoodooed us; we’ve discussed nothing else since he left.” - -“Though lost to sight, to memory dear,” laughed Jacob, throwing back -his sleek dark head, and blowing his cigarette smoke into rings before -his face: he was still leaning against the piano, and his attitude -displayed his well-knit, rather slight figure. His mother, gazing at -him with an admiration not unlike the devotion the heathen extends to -his favorite deity, regarded him as a supreme expression of the best -in manhood and wisdom. To her Jacob was little short of a divinity and -nothing short of a tyrant, under whose despotic rule she had trembled -since he was first able to express himself in the cryptic language of -the cradle, which had meant with him an unqualified and unrestrained -shriek for everything he wanted. She thought he showed to peculiar -advantage, too, in the setting of the old room with its two centers -of light, the lamp on the table and the fire on the hearth, with the -well-worn Turkey rugs, its darkly polished floor, the rare pieces of -Chippendale, and the equally rare old paintings on the walls. There was -a fine, richly toned portrait of Colonel Royall’s grandfather, who had -been with Washington at Yorktown, and there was a Corot and a Van Dyke, -originals that had cost the colonel’s father a small fortune in his -time. Best of all, perhaps, was the Greuze, for there was something in -the shadowy beauty of the head which suggested Diana. - -Colonel Royall himself had apparently forgotten Jacob and his attitude. -The old man was gazing absently into the fire, and the latent -tenderness in his expression, the fine droop of eyes and lips seemed to -suggest some deeper current of thought which the light talk stirred and -brought to the surface. There was a reminiscent sadness in his glance -which ignored the present and warned his daughter of the shoals. She -leaned forward and held her hands out to the blaze. - -“If it’s fine next week, I’m going up to Angel Pass to see if the -anemones are not all in bloom,” she said abruptly. - -Colonel Royall rose, and walking to the window, drew aside the heavy -curtains and looked out. “The night is superb,” he said. “Come here, -Di, and see Orion’s golden sword. If it is like this, we will go -to-morrow.” - -But Diana, going to him, laid a gentle hand on his arm. “To-morrow was -mother’s birthday, pa,” she said softly. - -Mrs. Eaton looked up and caught her son’s eye, and turned her face -carefully from the two in the bay window. “Think of it,” she murmured, -with a look of horrified disapproval, “think of keeping Letty’s -birthday here!” - -But Jacob, glancing at Diana’s unconscious back, signed to her to be -silent. - - - - -II - - -IT was the end of another day when Caleb Trench and his dog, Shot, came -slowly down the long white road from Paradise Ridge. It is a shell -road, exceeding white and hard, and below it, at flood-tide, the river -meadows lie half submerged; it turns the corner below the old mill and -passes directly through the center of Eshcol to the city. Behind the -mill, the feathery green of spring clouded the low hills in a mist -of buds and leafage. The slender stem of a silver birch showed keen -against a group of red cedars. A giant pine thrust its height above its -fellows, its top stripped by lightning and hung with a squirrel’s nest. - -Trench and his dog, a rough yellow outcast that he had adopted, were -approaching the outskirts of Eshcol. Here and there was a farmhouse, -but the wayside was lonely, and he heard only the crows in the -tree-tops. It was past five o’clock and the air was sweet. He smelt -the freshly turned earth in the fields where the robins were hunting -for grubs. Beyond the river the woods were drifted white with wild -cucumber. Yonder, in the corner of a gray old fence, huddled some -of Aaron Todd’s sheep. The keen atmosphere was mellowing at the far -horizon to molten gold; across it a drifting flight of swallows was -sharply etched, an eddying maelstrom of graceful wings. - -In the middle of the road Caleb Trench was suddenly aware of a small -figure, which might have been three years old, chubby and apparently -sexless, for it was clad in a girl’s petticoats and a boy’s jacket, its -face round and smeared with jelly. - -“Sammy,” said Trench kindly, “how did you get here?” - -“Penny,” said Sammy, “wants penny!” - -To Sammy the tall man with the homely face and clear gray eyes was a -mine of pennies and consequently of illicit candy; the soul of Sammy -was greedy as well as his stomach. Trench thrust his hand into his -pocket and produced five pennies. Sammy’s dirty little fist closed on -them with the grip of the nascent financier. - -“Sammy tired,” he sobbed, “wants go to candy man’s!” - -Trench stooped good-naturedly and lifted the bundle of indescribable -garments; he had carried it before, and the candy man was only a -quarter of a mile away. He was raising the child to his shoulder when -the growth of pokeberry bushes at the roadside shook and a woman darted -out from behind it. She was scarcely more than a girl and pitifully -thin and wan. Her garments, too, were sexless; she wore a girl’s short -skirt and a man’s waistcoat; a man’s soft felt hat rested on a tangled -mass of hair,--the coarse and abundant hair of peasant ancestry. She -ran up to him and snatched the child out of his arms. - -“You shan’t have him!” she cried passionately; “you shan’t touch -him--he’s mine!” - -Sammy screamed dismally, clutching his pennies. - -“Never mind, Jean,” said Trench quietly. “I know he’s yours.” - -“He’s mine!” She was stamping her foot in passion, her thin face -crimson, the veins standing out on her forehead. “He’s mine--you may -try ter get him, but you won’t--you won’t--you won’t!” she screamed. - -The child was frightened now, and clasped both arms around her neck, -screaming too. - -“I was only offering to carry him to the candy man’s, Jean,” Trench -said; “don’t get so excited. I know the child is yours.” - -“He’s mine!” she cried again, “mine! That’s my shame, they call it, and -preach at me, and try ter take him away. They want ’er steal him, but -they shan’t; they shan’t touch him any more’n you shall! He’s mine; God -gave him ter me, and I’ll keep him. You can kill me, but you shan’t -have him noways!” She was quivering from head to foot, her wild eyes -flashing, her face white now with the frenzy that swept away every -other thought. - -“Hush,” said Trench sternly, “no one wants to steal the child, Jean; -it’s only your fancy. Be quiet.” - -He spoke with such force that the girl fell back, leaning against the -fence, holding the sobbing child tight, her eyes devouring the man’s -strong, clean-featured face. Her clouded mind was searching for -memories. She had lost her wits when Sammy was born without a father to -claim him. Trench still stood in the middle of the road, and his figure -was at once striking and homely. He was above the average height, -big-boned and lean, the fineness of his head and the power of his face -not less notable because of a certain awkwardness that, at first, -disguised the real power of the man, a power so vital that it grew upon -you until his personality seemed to stand out in high relief against -the commonplace level of humanity. He had the force and vitality of a -primitive man. - -The girl crouched against the fence, and the two looked at each other. -Suddenly she put the child down and, coming cautiously nearer, pointed -with one hand, the other clenched against her flat chest. - -“I know you,” she whispered, in a strange penetrating voice, “I know -you at last--_you’re him_.” - -Trench regarded her a moment in speechless amazement, then the full -significance of her words was borne in upon him by the wild rage in -her eyes. He knew she was half crazed and saw his peril if this belief -became fixed in her mind. Often as he had seen her she had never -suggested such a delusion as was then taking root in her demented brain. - -“You are mistaken,” he said gently, slowly, persuasively, trying to -impress her, as he might a child; “you have forgotten; I only came to -Eshcol four years ago. You have not known me two years, Jean; you are -thinking of some one else.” - -A look of cunning succeeded the fury in her eyes, as she peered at him. -“It’s like you ter say it,” she cried triumphantly at last, “it’s like -you ter hide. You’re afeard, you were always afeard--coward, coward!” - -Trench laid his powerful hand on her shoulder and almost shook her. “Be -still,” he said authoritatively, “it is false. You know it’s false. I -am not he.” - -She wrenched away from him, laughing and crying together. “’Tis him,” -she repeated; “I know him by this!” and she suddenly snatched at the -plain signet ring that he wore on his left hand. - -Trench drew his hand away in anger, his patience exhausted. “Jean,” he -said harshly, “you’re mad.” - -“No!” she shook her head, still pointing at him, “no--it is you!” - -She was pointing, her wild young face rigid, as a carriage came toward -them. Trench looked up and met the calm gaze of Colonel Royall and -Diana, who occupied the back seat. In front, beside the negro coachman, -Jacob Eaton leaned forward and stared rudely at the group in the dust. - -“What is the matter, Jacob?” the old man asked, as the carriage passed. - -The young one laughed. “The old story, I reckon, Colonel,” he said -affably, “begging Diana’s pardon.” - -“You needn’t beg my pardon. It was Jean Bartlett, pa,” she added, -blushing suddenly. - -“Poor girl!” The colonel touched his lips thoughtfully. “By gad, I -wish I knew who was the father of her child--I’d make him keep her from -starving.” - -“You do that, pa,” said Diana quietly. - -“I reckon the father’s there now,” said Jacob Eaton, with a slight -sneer. - -Diana flashed a look at the back of his head which ought to have -scorched it. “It is only the shopkeeper at Eshcol,” she said haughtily. - -“Are shopkeepers immune, Diana?” asked Jacob Eaton, chuckling. - -“I am immune from such conversations,” replied Diana superbly. - -Jacob apologized. - -Meanwhile, the group by the wayside had drawn nearer together. “I will -take your child home, for you are tired,” said Trench sternly, “but I -tell you that I do not know your story and you don’t know me. If you -accuse me of being that child’s father, you are telling a falsehood. Do -you understand what a falsehood is, Jean?” - -His face was so stern that the girl cowered. - -“No,” she whimpered, “I--I won’t tell, I swore it, I won’t tell his -name.” - -“Neither will you take mine in vain,” said Caleb Trench, and he lifted -the sobbing Sammy. - -Cowed, Jean followed, and the strange procession trailed down the -white road. Overhead the tall hickories were in flower. The carriage -of Colonel Royall had cast dust on Trench’s gray tweed suit and it had -powdered Shot’s rough hair. The dog trailed jealously at his heels, -not giving precedence to Jean Bartlett. The girl walked droopingly, -and now that the fire of conviction had died out of her face, it was -shrunken again, like a thin paper mask from behind which there had -flashed, for a moment, a Hallowe’en candle. They began to pass people. -Aaron Todd, stout farmer and lumberman, rode by in his wagon and nodded -to Trench, staring at the child. Jean he knew. Then came two more -farmers, and later a backwoodsman, who greeted Trench as he galloped -past on his lean, mud-bespattered horse. Then two women passed on the -farther side. They spoke to Trench timidly, for he was a reserved man -and they did not know him well, but they drew away their skirts from -Jean, who was the Shameful Thing at Paradise Ridge. - -Strange thoughts beset Caleb; suddenly the girl’s accusation went home; -suppose he had been the father of this child on his arm,--would they -pass him and speak, and pass her with skirts drawn aside? God knew. He -thought it only too probable, knowing men--and women. He was a just -man on occasions, but at heart a passionate one. Inwardly he stormed, -outwardly he was calm. The dog trailed behind him; so did the girl, a -broken thing, who had just sense enough to feel the women’s eyes. They -passed more people. Again Caleb answered salutations, again he heard -the girl whimper as if she shrank from a blow. - -At her own door, which was her grandmother’s, he set down the child. -A shrill voice began screaming. “Is the hussy there? Come in with you, -you thing of shame; what d’ye walk in the road for? The Ridge is fair -screamin’ with your disgrace, you trollop. Jean, Jean!” - -The old woman was childish, but she knew the tale and retained it. -There was also a half-foolish brother; it seemed as if, in the making -of this luckless family, the usual three pints of wits had been spilled -to a half pint and then diluted to go around. Zeb Bartlett came to the -door, shambling and dirty, but grinning at the sight of Trench. Sammy -ran from him shrieking, for he feared the theft of his spoils. Zeb -towered in righteous wrath as Jean appeared. - -“Get in, Shameless!” he commanded. - -The girl shrank past him sobbing. - -“My God!” said Caleb Trench and turned away. - -He did not heed an appeal for help to get work that Zeb shouted after -him; he was, for the moment, deaf. Before him lay the broad fields -and sloping hills, the beauty of earth and sky, drenched in sunset; -behind lay a girl’s purgatory. He forgot his anger at her senseless -accusation, he forgot the peril of it, in his wrath; he hated -injustice. Only the yellow dog followed at his heels and his heart was -full of strange thoughts. Five years of isolation and injustice must -tell in a man’s life, and the purposes born there in solitude are grim. -The great trial that was to divide Eshcol against itself was growing, -growing out of the sweet spring twilight, growing beyond the song of -the thrush and the cheep of the woodpecker, growing in the heart of a -man. - -Meanwhile, Jacob Eaton had called Trench the father of Jean Bartlett’s -child, and old Scipio, who drove the colonel’s bays, heard it and told -it to Kingdom-Come Carter, who had been butler at Broad Acres for fifty -years, and had carried Diana in his arms when she was two weeks old. -Kingdom-Come told it to Aunt Charity and Uncle Juniper, coal-black -negroes of the cabin, and thus by kitchens and alley-doors the story -traveled, as a needle will travel through the body and work its way to -the surface. The reputation of a man is but the breath on a servant’s -lips, as man himself is compared to grass and the flower of it. - - - - -III - - -TRENCH walked slowly homeward. Colonel Royall’s place, the largest -of its kind in the neighborhood of Eshcol, was on a hill above the -town, and Trench’s nearest path lay not by the highroad but past the -Colonel’s gates along a lovely trail that led through a growth of -stunted cedars out into the open ground above the river, and thence -by a solitary and wooded path known sometimes as the Trail of the -Cedar-bird, because those little birds haunted it at certain seasons of -the year. - -It was now broad moonlight, and Trench, who was peculiarly susceptible -to the sights and sounds of Nature, was aware of the beauty of every -tremulous shadow. The chill spring air was sweet with the aromatic -perfume of pines and cedars, and, as he turned the shoulder of -the hill, his eye swept the new-plowed fields. He could smell the -grapevines that were blooming in masses by the wayside, promising a -full harvest of those great purple grapes that had given the settlement -its name. Below him the river forked, and in its elbow nestled the -center of the village, the church at the Cross-Roads, and the little -red schoolhouse where Peter Mahan had fought Jacob Eaton and whipped -him at the age of twelve, long before Caleb Trench had even heard -of Eshcol. To the left was the Friends’ Meeting-House, Judge Hollis’ -home, and the lane which led to Trench’s shop and office. Beyond, he -discerned the little old white house where Dr. William Cheyney lived, -but that was where Eshcol lapped over on to Little Paradise, for they -had bridged the creek ten years before. Across the river lay the city, -big and smoky and busy, its spires rising above its shining roofs. - -A light mist, diaphanous and shimmering, floated over the lowlands by -the water, and above it the dark green of the young foliage and the -lovely slope of clovered fields seemed to assume a new and beautiful -significance, to suggest mysterious unfoldings, buds and blossoming -time, the gathered promise of a hundred springs, that mysterious -awakening of life which stirred the lonely man’s imagination with a -thrill of pleasure as poignant as it was unusual. To him these lonely -walks at sunrise and moonrise had been his greatest solace, and there -was a companionship in the slight hushed sounds of woodland life which -approached his inner consciousness more nearly than the alien existence -that circumstances had forced upon him. He was a stranger in almost a -strange land. He had been born and brought up in Philadelphia, and his -family belonged to the Society of Friends. Personally, Caleb Trench was -not orthodox, but the bias of his early training held, and the poverty -that had followed his father’s business failure had tended to increase -the simplicity of the boy’s narrowed life. When death had intervened -and taken first his father, whom business ruin had broken, and then -his mother and sister, Caleb had severed the last tie that bound him -to the East and started West to make his fortune, with the boundless -confidence of youth that he would succeed. The lodestar that has drawn -so many on that fantastic quest had drawn him, and failing in first one -venture and then another, because it is easier to buy experience than -to accumulate wealth, he had come at last to the little shop at Eshcol -and the study of law. Wherein lay the touchstone of his life, though he -knew it not. - -Pausing now, a moment, to view his favorite scene, the lowlands by the -river under their silvery mantle of vapor, he turned and took the sharp -descent from the bluff to the old turnpike. A cherry tree in full bloom -stood like a ghost at the corner of Judge Hollis’ orchard, and the long -lane was white with the falling petals. A light shone warmly through -the crimson curtains of Judge Hollis’ library window, and Caleb took -the familiar path to the side door. The latch was usually down, but -to-night he had to knock, and the judge’s sister, Miss Sarah, opened -the door. - -“Is that you, Caleb?” she said, in her high thin voice; “wipe your -feet. I wish men folks were all made like cherubs anyway, then there -wouldn’t be all this mud tracked over my carpets.” - -“We might moult our wing feathers, Miss Sarah,” Caleb ventured -unsmilingly, while he obeyed his instructions to the letter. - -“I’d as lief have feathers as pipe ashes,” she retorted; “in fact I’d -rather--I could make pillows of ’em.” - -“You can’t complain of my pipe ashes, Miss Sarah,” Trench said, a slow -laugh dawning in the depths of his gray eyes. “Is the judge at home?” - -“Can’t you smell tobacco smoke?” she replied, moving in front of him -across the entry, her tall figure, in its plain green poplin with -the turn-down collar of Irish lace, recalling to Trench, in the most -extreme of contrasts, the other tall figure in its beautiful evening -dress, that had stood so haughtily in Colonel Royall’s drawing-room, -seeming to him the most perfect expression of beauty and charming grace -that he had ever seen, though he still felt the sting of Diana’s glance -and the sarcasm of her receipt. He had carried the money back in good -faith, for his Quaker training made six cents as significant to him as -six hundred cents, but, under all his strong and apparently unmoved -exterior, there was a quick perception of the attitude of others -toward his views and toward himself. In the strength of his own virile -character he had not fully realized where he stood in her eyes, but -after that night he did not forget it. Meanwhile, Miss Sarah had opened -the study door. - -“Judge,” she called to her brother, “Caleb’s here.” - -There was no response, and she went away, leaving Caleb to find his own -welcome. He went in and closed the door. Judge Hollis was sitting at -his desk smoking a long black pipe and writing carefully in a hand as -fine and accurate as a steel engraving. - -The room was low, papered with old-fashioned bandbox paper and filled -with bookcases with glass doors, every one of which hung open. In the -corner was a life-sized bust of Daniel Webster. As Caleb entered, -the judge swung around in his revolving chair and eyed him over his -spectacles. He was a big man with a large head covered with abundant -white hair, a clean-shaven face with a huge nose, shaped like a hawk’s -and placed high between the deep-set eyes. - -“Trench,” he said abruptly, “if they elect Aylett they’ll have to stuff -the ballot-boxes. What’ll you do then?” - -“Take the stuffing out of them, Judge,” Trench replied promptly and -decisively. - -The judge looked at him, a grim smile curling the corners of his large -mouth. “They’ll tar and feather you,” he said. - -Trench sat down and took up a calf-bound volume. “I’m enough of a -Quaker still to speak out in meeting,” he observed. - -“The only thing I know about Quakers makes ’em seem like Unitarians,” -said the judge, “and a Unitarian is a kind of stylish Jew. What have -you been doing with the backwoodsmen, Caleb? Mahan tells me they’re -organized--” the judge smiled outright now--“I don’t believe it.” - -Caleb Trench smiled too. “I don’t know much about organizing, Judge,” -he said simply. “When men come into my shop and ask questions I answer -them; that’s all there is about it.” - -“We’ll have to shut up that shop, I reckon,” the judge said, “but -then you’ll open your darned law office and give ’em sedition by the -brief instead of by the yard. I deserve hanging for letting you read -law here. I’ve been a Democrat for seventy years, and you’re a black -Republican.” - -Trench closed the law book on his finger. “Judge,” he said slowly, “I’m -a man of my own convictions. My father wouldn’t stand for anything I -do, yet he was the best man I ever knew, and I’d like to be true to -him. It isn’t in me to follow in the beaten track, that’s all.” - -The judge twinkled. “You’re an iconoclast,” he said, “and so’s Sarah, -yet women, as a rule, are safe conservatives. They’ll hang on to an -old idea as close as a hen to a nest-egg. Perhaps I’m the same. Anyway -I can’t stand for your ways; I wash my hands of it all. I wish they’d -drop Yarnall; his nomination means blood on the face of the moon. -There’s the feud with the Eatons, and I wouldn’t trust Jacob Eaton to -forget it, not by a darned sight; he’s too pesky cold-blooded,--the -kind of man that holds venom as long as a rattler.” - -“Then, if you don’t like Yarnall, why not vote for Mahan?” Trench was -beginning to enjoy himself. He leaned back in his chair with his head -against a shelf of the bookcase, the light from the judge’s lamp -falling full on his remarkable face, clean-shaven like his host’s, on -the strong line of the jaw, and on the mouth that had the faculty of -locking itself in granite lines. - -“Because, damn it, I’m a Democrat!” said the old man angrily. - -“By conviction or habit?” - -The judge scowled. “By conviction first, sir, and by habit last, and -for good and all, anyway!” - -Caleb Trench laughed softly. “Judge,” he said, “what of Jacob Eaton?” - -The judge shot a quick look from under scowling brows. “Seen him -lately?” - -The younger man thought a moment. “Yes, last night. I owed Miss Royall -some change and took it to the house. Eaton was there.” - -“How much change?” asked Hollis abruptly. - -“Six cents.” - -“What!” - -Trench reddened. “Six cents,” he repeated doggedly. - -“And you took it up there and paid Diana Royall?” - -“Certainly, Judge, in the drawing-room; she gave me a receipt.” - -The judge exploded with laughter; he roared and slapped his knee. - -Caleb Trench bore it well, but the color of his eyes, which was -blue-gray, became more gray than blue. “I owed it,” he said. - -At which the judge laughed more. Then he dropped back into his old -attitude and wiped his eyes. “You walked up there--seven miles--to see -Diana?” - -Trench stiffened. “No,” he said flatly, “I did not; I’ve got more -sense. I know perfectly how Miss Royall estimates a shopkeeper,” he -added, with a bitterness which he could not suppress. - -The judge looked at him curiously. “How do you know?” he asked. - -Trench returned his look without a word, and Judge Hollis colored; it -was not the first time that the young man had rebuked him and let him -know that he could not trespass on forbidden ground. The old lawyer -fingered his brief an instant in annoyed silence, then he spoke of -something else. - -“I’ll tell you about the feud,” he said irrelevantly; “it began seventy -years ago over a piece of ground that lay between the two properties; -Christopher Yarnall claimed it and so did Jacob Eaton, this man’s -grandfather. There was a fence war for years, then Yarnall won. -Winfield Mahan, Peter’s grandfather, won by a fifteen-hour speech. They -said the jurymen all fell asleep in the box and voted in a nightmare. -Anyway he got it, and Mahan got more money for the case than the whole -place was worth. That was the beginning. Chris Yarnall’s son married a -pretty girl from Lexington, and she fell in love with Eaton, Jacob’s -father. There was a kind of fatality about the way those two families -got mixed up. Everybody saw how things were going except Jinny Eaton, -his wife. She was playing belle at Memphis, and Jacob was about a year -old. Eaton tried to run away with Mrs. Yarnall, that’s the size of it, -and Yarnall shot him. There was a big trial and the Eatons claimed that -Eaton was innocent. Young Mrs. Yarnall swore he was, and fainted on the -stand, but the Yarnalls knew he wasn’t innocent, and they got Yarnall -off. He wouldn’t live with his wife after that; there was a divorce and -he married a Miss Sarah Garnett. This Garnett Yarnall, they want to -run, is his son. Of course the whole Eaton clan hate the Yarnalls like -the devil, and Jacob hates Garnett worse than that, because he’s never -been able to run him. Jacob likes to run things in a groove; he’s a -smart fellow, is Jacob.” - -Trench said nothing; he had filled his pipe and sat smoking, the law -book closed on his finger. The judge swung back in his chair and -clasped his hands behind his head. - -“Of course he’ll marry Diana Royall. They’re fourth cousins; Jinny -is the colonel’s second cousin, on his mother’s side; there’s a good -deal of money in the family, and I reckon they want to keep it there. -Anyway, Jacob’s set his mind--I’m not saying his heart, for I don’t -know that he’s got one--on getting Diana; that’s as plain as the nose -on a man’s face, but Diana--well, there’s a proposition for you!” and -the judge chuckled. - -Trench knocked the ashes from his pipe very carefully into a little -cracked china plate that Miss Sarah provided for the judge, and the -judge never used. “Eaton is interested in some speculating schemes, -isn’t he?” he asked, without referring to Diana. - -The judge nodded. “He’s president of a company developing some lands in -Oklahoma, and he’s connected in Wall Street; Jacob’s a smart fellow.” - -“Colonel Royall is interested, too, I suppose,” Trench suggested -tentatively. - -“Yep, got pretty much all his spare cash in, I reckon; the colonel -loves to speculate. It’s in the blood, one way or another. His -grandfather kept the finest race-horses in the South, and his father -lost a small fortune on them. Of course David has to dip in, but he’s -never been much for horses. Besides, he had a blow; his wife--” The -judge stopped abruptly and looked up. - -The door of the study had been opening softly and closing again for the -last few minutes. As he paused it opened wider, and a woolly head came -in cautiously. - -“What is it, Juniper?” he asked impatiently. “Don’t keep a two-inch -draught on my back; come in or stay out.” - -The old negro opened the door wide enough to squeeze his lean body -through and closed it behind him. - -“Evenin’, Jedge,” he said; “evenin’, Marse Trench.” - -“What do you want now?” demanded the judge, taking off his spectacles -to polish them. There was the ghost of a smile about his grim lips. - -Juniper turned his hat around slowly and looked into the crown; it was -a battered old gray felt and he saw the pattern of the carpet through a -hole in it. “I’ve laid off ter ask yo’ how much it wud cost ter git er -divorce, suh?” - -Judge Hollis put on his spectacles and looked at him thoughtfully. -“Depends on the circumstances, Juniper,” he replied. “I suppose Aunt -Charity is tired of you at last?” - -“No, suh, _she_ ain’t, but I ez,” said Juniper indignantly; “she done -b’haved so onerary dat I’se sho gwine ter be divorced, I ez, ef it don’ -cost too much,” he added dolefully. - -The judge’s eyes twinkled. “You’ll have to pay her alimony,” he said. - -“What’s dat?” Juniper demanded with anxiety. - -“So much a week out of your wages,” explained Trench, catching the -judge’s eye. - -“I ain’t gwine ter do it, noways,” said Juniper firmly. - -“Don’t you have to support her now?” Trench asked mildly. - -Juniper looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully. “I’se allus been proud -ob de way she done washin’, suh,” he said; “she sho do mek money dat -away, an’ I ain’t gwine ter complain ob noffin but de way she behaved -’bout Miss Eaton’s silver teapot, dat Miss Jinny done gib me fo’ a -birthday present.” - -“Silver teapot?” Caleb Trench looked questioningly at the judge. - -“Juniper had a birthday,” Judge Hollis explained grimly, “and Aunt -Charity gave him a birthday party. I reckon we all sent Juniper -something, but Jinny Eaton gave him a silver-plated teapot, and there -have been squalls ever since. Who’s got that teapot now, Juniper?” - -“She hab,” said Juniper indignantly. “I locked dat teapot in my trunk, -Judge, an’ I done tole her dat she couldn’t hab it when I died bekase -she’d gib it ter dat mean trash son ob hers, Lysander, an’ when I wus -out she done got a locksmith ter gib her a key ter fit dat trunk, -an’ she got dat teapot, an’ she’s gwine ter gib tea ter Deacon Plato -Eaton, an’ he hab er wife already, not sayin’ noffin ’bout concubines. -I ain’t gwine ter hab him drinkin’ no tea outen dat silver teapot dat -Miss Jinny done gib me. I’se gwine ter git divorcement an’ I wants dat -teapot.” - -“Why don’t you settle it with Uncle Plato?” asked the judge. “Assault -and battery is cheaper than divorce.” - -Juniper rubbed the back of his head thoughtfully. “De fact ez, Jedge,” -he said, “I ain’t sho dat I’se gwine ter whip him.” - -“Juniper,” said the judge, “you tell Uncle Plato from me that if he -drinks tea out of that teapot you’ll sue him for ten thousand dollars -damages for alienating your wife’s affections.” - -Juniper looked at him admiringly. “I sho will, Jedge,” he said. -“Alyanatying her ’fections! I sho will! Dat sounds mos’ ez bad ez -settin’ fire ter de cou’t-house. I ’low Plato ain’t gwine ter cotch et -ef he kin help it. I sho ez grateful ter yo’ all, Jedge.” - -The judge swung his revolving chair around to his desk. “Very good,” he -said grimly; “you can go now, Juniper.” - -The old man turned and shuffled back to the door; as he opened it he -bowed again. “Alyanatying her ’fections! I ’low I ain’t gwine ter -fergit dat. Evenin’, gentermen,” and he closed the door. - -The judge looked across at Caleb. “That’s one of the Eaton faction,” -he remarked grimly. “Yarnall has to contend with that kind of cattle. -Juniper’s sold, body and soul, to the Eatons, and that old fool, Jinny -Eaton, gave him a silver-plated teapot for his birthday. You might -as well give a nigger a diamond sunburst or a tame bear. He and his -wife have been at swords’ points ever since, but as sure as the first -Tuesday in November comes, that whole black horde will vote the Eaton -ticket.” - -Caleb Trench regarded the judge thoughtfully. “You’d like to -disfranchise the negro,” he remarked. - -Hollis grunted. “You’re a black Republican,” he said bitingly. - -Trench shook his head. “No, sir, a conservative,” he replied, “but an -honest man, I hope. I haven’t much more use for the ignorant black vote -than you have, but that question isn’t the one that hits me, Judge.” - -The judge looked keenly at the grim composure of the face opposite. -“What does?” - -“Dishonesty, fraud, and intimidation,” Trench answered. - -“And you propose to oppose and expose them?” The old man was keenly -interested, his heavy brows drawn down, his eyes sparkling. - -“I do.” - -Judge Hollis rose and went over to the younger man. He laid his hand on -his shoulder. “You’re a poor man, Trench; they’ll ruin you.” - -“So be it.” - -“You’re alone; they’ll kill you,” warned the judge. - -Trench rose, and as his tall figure towered, the fine width of his brow -and the peculiar lucidity of his glance had never seemed more striking. -Judge Hollis watched him in grim admiration. - -“I’ve got but one life,” he said, “and, as God sees me, I’ll live that -life in fear of no man.” - -The judge walked slowly back to his seat, took off his spectacles and -laid them down beside his brief. “Reckon Jacob Eaton’s got his match at -last,” he said, “and, by the Lord Harry, I’m glad of it!” - - - - -IV - - -DIANA ROYALL turned her horse’s head from the highroad and began to -descend the Trail of the Cedar-bird. It was late afternoon, and the -glory of the west was suddenly obscured with a bank of purple clouds; -the distant rumble of thunder jarred the stillness, and a moisture, -the promise of heavy rain, filled the air. Long streamers of angry -clouds drifted across the upper sky, and far off the tall pines stirred -restlessly. - -Regardless of these threatenings of Nature, Diana rode on, under the -interlacing boughs, swaying forward sometimes in her saddle to avoid -a sweeping branch, while her horse picked his way in the narrow path, -often sending a loose stone rolling ahead of them or crackling a -fallen limb. Through long aisles of young green she caught glimpses of -the river; now and then a frightened rabbit scurried across the path -or a squirrel chattered overhead. She loved the voices of the wild -things, the fragrant stillness of the pinewoods, the perfume of young -blossomings. She brought her horse to a walk, passing slowly along the -trail; even the soft young leaves that brushed against her shoulder -were full of friendships. She loved the red tips of the maples, and the -new buds of the hemlocks; she knew where she ought to hear the sweet -call--“Bob White!”--and once, before the clouds threatened so darkly, -she caught the note of a song-sparrow. Life was sweet; there was a joy -merely in living, and she tried to crowd out of her mind that little -angry prick of mortification that had stung her ever since she met the -eyes of Caleb Trench across her receipt. He had known that she mocked -him, had scorned to notice it, and had showed that he was stronger -mentally than she was. In that single instant Diana had felt herself -small, malicious, discourteous, and the thought of it was like the -taste of wormwood. She resented it, and resenting it, blamed herself -less than she blamed Trench. Why had he come on such a silly errand? -Why had he tempted her to rudeness? The question had fretted her for -weeks; for weeks she had avoided passing the little old house at the -Cross-Roads where Caleb had lived now for three years. Yet, when she -came to the opening in the cedars, she drew near unconsciously and -looked down at the old worn gable of his roof. It faced northeast, and -there was moss on its shingles; she saw a little thin trail of smoke -clinging close to the lip of the chimney, for the atmosphere was heavy. - -Then she turned impatiently in the saddle, breaking her vagrant -thoughts away from the solitary man, secretly angry that she had -thought of him at all. Her glance fell on a mass of blossoming wild -honeysuckle, and the loveliness of its rose tintings drew her; she -slipped to the ground and patting her horse, left the bridle loose on -his neck. She had to gather up her skirts and thread her way through -a bracken of ferns before she reached the tempting flowers and began -to gather them. She broke off a few sprays and clustered them in her -hands, pausing to look out across the newly plowed fields to her right; -they had been sown to oats, and it seemed to her that she saw the first -faint drift of green on the crests of the furrows. The next moment a -crash of thunder shook the air, the trees overhead cracked and bent low -before the onrush of the sudden gust. Her horse, a restive creature, -shied violently and stood shivering with fear. Diana, grasping her -flowers, started through the ferns, calling to him, but a blinding -flash followed by more thunder forestalled her; the horse rose on his -haunches and stood an instant, quivering, a beautiful untamed creature, -his mane flying in the wind, and then plunged forward and galloped down -the trail. - -Diana called to him again helplessly and foolishly, for her voice was -lost in the crackling of boughs and the boom of thunder; she was alone -in the lonely spot, with the wind whistling in her ears. It ripped -the leaves from the trees overhead and she stood in a hail of green -buds. The fury of the gale increased, the black clouds advanced across -the heavens with long streamers flying ahead of them, the light in -the upper sky went out, darkness increased; suddenly the woods were -twilight and she heard no sound but the mighty rush of the wind. -As yet no rain fell, only leaves, broken twigs, and, at last, great -branches crashed. The lightning tore the clouds apart in fearful rents. - -It was a long way home, seven and a half miles, and already big drops -spattered through the trees. Strangely enough, a thought of Caleb’s -walk with the six cents flashed in upon her and she resented it. Yet -the nearest shelter was the little shop at the Cross-Roads. It made -no difference, she would face the storm; and she started boldly down -the trail though the bushes whipped against her skirt and the boughs -threatened her. Once a rolling stone nearly threw her down, but she -kept resolutely on. If the horse went home riderless, what would they -think? She could only dimly conjecture Colonel Royall’s distress, but -she would not go to the little shop to telephone; she would walk home! - -She kept steadily on. Twice the force of the wind almost drove her -back; twice she had to stop and steady herself against a tree trunk. -The thought came to her that she had been foolish to stay out so long, -but she scarcely heeded it now, for the wind had torn her hat off and -loosened her hair, and it was whipping her clothes about and tearing -at her like a malicious spirit. She reached the end of the path and -came into the turnpike just as the rain came in a blinding sheet, white -as sea-spray, and closed down around her with a rush of water like a -cloudburst. She kept on with difficulty now, scarcely seeing her way, -and another rolling stone caught her foot. She stumbled and nearly -fell, straightening herself with an agony darting through her ankle; -she had given it a sharp twist and it no longer bore her weight without -anguish. She reeled against a fence at the wayside and held to it, -trying to be sure that she was in the road. Then another flash showed -her the shop at the Cross-Roads, not twenty feet away. An hour before -she could not have imagined her joy at seeing it, now she had only the -hope that she could reach it. The pain in her ankle increased, and -her drenched clothes clung to her; she pulled herself forward slowly, -clinging to the fence. The roar of the wind filled the world, and the -rain drove in her face. - -She did not see the man in the door of the shop; she did not know -that, looking at the storm, he saw a figure clinging to the fence, but -she suddenly felt herself lifted from the ground and borne forward in -strong arms. Then something seemed to snap in her brain, she swam in -darkness for a moment, with the throb of pain reaching up to her heart, -before she lost even the consciousness of that. - -Afterwards, when light began to filter back, she was being carried -still, and almost instantly full comprehension returned. She was aware -that it was Caleb Trench who carried her, and that he did it easily, -though she was no light burden. He was taking her from the shop into -his office beyond when she recovered, and she roused herself with an -effort and tried to slip to the floor. - -“Be careful,” he said quickly, with an authority in his tone which, -even at that moment, reached her; “you may have sprained or broken your -ankle, I do not know which.” And he carried her to a plain old leather -lounge in the corner and put her gently down. “Are you in pain?” he -asked, turning up the lamp which he had already lighted. - -The light fell on his face as well as upon hers, and as she looked -up, Diana was impressed with the vivid force, the directness, the -self-absorption of the man’s look. If her presence there meant anything -to him, if he had felt her beauty and her charm as she lay helpless in -his arms, he gave no sign. It was a look of power, of reserve, of iron -will; she was suddenly conscious of an impulse to answer him as simply -as a child. - -“It is nothing,” she said; “I don’t believe I’m even hurt much. Where -did you find me?” - -“Almost at my door,” he replied, moving quietly to a kind of cupboard -at the other side of the room and pouring some brandy into a glass. -“You must drink this; your clothing is soaked through and I have -nothing dry to offer you, but if you can, come to the fire.” - -Diana took the liquor and drank it obediently, unconsciously yielding -to the calm authority of his manner. Then she tried to rise, but once -on her feet, staggered, and would have fallen but for his arm. He -caught her and held her erect a moment, then gathered her up without a -word, and carried her to a seat by the little open stove into which -he had already thrown some wood. Diana sank into his old armchair -with crimson cheeks. She was half angry, half amused; he was treating -her like an injured child, and with as little heed of her grand-dame -manners as if she had been six years old. - -“I have telephoned to Dr. Cheyney,” he said simply, “but, of course, -this storm will delay him.” - -“I am not ill,” Diana protested. “I am not even badly hurt; my horse -ran away, and I--I think I sprained my ankle.” - -“You were clinging to the fence,” Trench said, without apparent -emotion, “and you fainted when I lifted you.” - -She sickened at the memory, yet was woman enough to resent the man’s -indifference. “I’m sorry you ’phoned for poor old Dr. Cheyney,” she -said stiffly; “please ’phone to my people to send for me.” - -“I tried,” he replied, undisturbed by her hauteur, “but the storm must -have interfered. I can’t get them, and now I can’t get Dr. Cheyney.” - -“How long was I unconscious?” she asked quickly, trying to piece -together her recovery and all that he had done. - -“Ten minutes,” he answered. “I saw the horse going by riderless and -went out to look. It seemed a long time before I saw you coming and -carried you into the shop. I thought you were not coming to, and you -were so soaked with water that I had lifted you to bring you to the -fire when you recovered.” - -“I hope Jerry got home,” she said thoughtfully. “It was my folly; I saw -how black the clouds were, and I ought to have gone home.” - -Trench stooped for more wood and fed the fire, the glow lighting up his -face again. “Where were you?” he asked simply, and then “I beg your -pardon--” - -“I was up the trail,” she said quietly. “I stayed too long. It was -beautiful; all the young things are budding. I dismounted to gather -some wild honeysuckle--and it is gone!” - -For the first time his eyes met hers with a glow of understanding. “Did -you notice the turn above the river?” he asked, still feeding the fire. - -She smiled reluctantly. “How white the cucumber is,” she answered, “and -did you see the red tips of the maples? How glossy the new green leaves -look!” - -“There is a place there, where the old hickory fell, where you can see -the orchard and that low meadow by the lane--” His face was almost -boyish, eager for sympathy, awakened, changed. - -“It is beautiful,” Diana replied, nodding, “and one hears the Bob White -there.” - -“Ah!” he breathed softly, “you noticed?” - -Diana leaned her elbow on the worn arm of his chair and nestled her -chin in her hand, watching him. After all, what manner of man was he? - -The storm, still raging in all its fury, shook the house to its -foundation; a deafening crash of thunder seemed to demolish all other -sounds. She glanced covertly about the little room, seeking some -explanation there. A village shopkeeper who was by nature a poet and -a mystic, and of whom men spoke as a politician--there was a paradox. -Something like amusement touched the edge of her thought, but she tried -for the first time to understand. The room was small and lined on two -sides with rough bookshelves made of unstained pine, yet there was a -picturesqueness in the medley of old books, grouped carelessly about -them. There were a few old worn leather chairs and the lounge, a faded -rug, a table littered with papers and pens around the shaded lamp, -beside which lay his pipe. His dog, Shot, a yellow nondescript, lay -across the threshold, nose between paws, watching her suspiciously. The -place was homely yet severe, clean but disorderly, and the strangest -touch of all was the big loose bunch of apple-blossoms in an old -earthen jar in the corner, the pink and white of the fragile blooms -contrasting charmingly with the dull tintings of the earthenware, and -bringing the fragrance of spring into the little room. Their grouping, -and the corner in which he had placed them, where the light just caught -the beauty of the delicate petals, arrested Diana’s thought. - -“You are an artist,” she remarked approvingly; “or else--was it an -accident?” - -He followed her glance and smiled, and she noticed that, in spite -of the rugged strength and homeliness of his face, his rare smile -had almost the sweetness of a woman’s. “Not altogether accident,” he -said, “but the falling of the light which seems to lift them out of -the shadows behind them. Isn’t it fair that I should have something -beautiful in this shabby place?” - -Diana colored; had he noticed her survey and again thought her -discourteous? She could say nothing to refute its shabbiness and, -for the moment, her usual tact deserted her. She sat looking at the -apple-blossoms in silence while he rose from his place as fire-feeder, -and, going to the kitchen, came back with a cup of hot tea. - -“You had better drink this,” he advised quietly; “I’m afraid you’ll -take cold. I hope the tea will be right; you see I am ‘the cook and the -captain too.’” - -She took the cup, obediently again, and feeling like a naughty child. -“It is excellent,” she said, tasting it; “I didn’t know a mere man -could make such good tea.” - -He laughed. “Once or twice, you know, men have led a forlorn hope. I -sometimes feel like that when I attack the domestic mysteries.” - -“Courage has its own rewards--even in tea, then!” she retorted, -wondering if all the men who lived thus alone knew how to do so many -things for themselves? In her experience it had been the other way. -Colonel Royall was as helpless as a baby and needed almost as much -care, and Jacob Eaton had a scornful disregard of domestic details, -only demanding his own comforts, and expecting that his adoring mother -would provide them without annoying him with even the ways and means. -It occurred to Diana that, perhaps, it was the wide difference in -social position, that gentlemen might be helpless in matters where the -humbler denizens of the earth had to be accomplished; that, in short, -Caleb Trench must make his own tea or go without, while Jacob Eaton -could pay for the making of an indefinite succession of cups of tea. -Yet, was this man entirely out of her class? Diana tasted the tea, with -a critical appreciation of its admirable qualities, and quietly viewed -the tea-maker. He was seated again now in the old armchair by the -table, and she observed the strong lines of his long-fingered muscular -hands, the pose and firmness of the unquestionably intellectual head. -There was nothing commonplace, nothing unrefined in his aspect, yet -all her training went to place between them an immeasurable social -chasm. She regarded him curiously, as one might regard the habitant of -another and an inferior hemisphere, and he was poignantly aware of her -mental attitude. Neither spoke for a while, and nothing was audible in -the room but the crash and uproar of the storm without. In contrast, -the light and shelter of the little place seemed like a flower-scented -refuge from pandemonium. Diana looked over her teacup at the silent -man, who seemed less ill at ease than she was. - -“I think you are a stranger here, Mr. Trench,” she said, in her soft -voice; “at least, we who have been here twenty years call every one -else a stranger and a sojourner in the land.” - -“I have been here only three years,” he replied, “but I do not feel -myself altogether a stranger--to backwoodsmen,” he added ironically. - -She glanced up quickly, recalling the talk between her father and Jacob -Eaton. “Is it you who are organizing them?” she asked lightly. - -Her question took him by surprise, and he showed it; it seemed like an -echo of old Judge Hollis. “I’m no organizer, Miss Royall,” he replied -simply, stooping to caress the dog, who had come to lay his rough head -against his knee. - -She smiled; something in his manner, an indefinable distinction and -fineness, began to make her feel at ease with him. “Is that mere -modesty?” she asked. “I wish you would tell me--I love politics and,” -she laughed gently, “I’m profoundly ignorant.” - -His rare smile lighted the repose of his strong face again. “I am not a -desirable teacher for you, Miss Royall,” he replied; “I’m that abnormal -thing, that black sheep in the neighborhood, a Republican.” - -She leaned over and set her empty cup on the table. “I am immensely -interested,” she said. “A Republican is almost as curious as the famed -‘Jabberwock.’ It isn’t possible that you are making Republicans up in -the timberlands?” - -“Some one must have told you so,” he retorted quietly, a flicker of -humor in his grave eyes; “they look upon me here as they would on a fox -in a chicken-yard.” - -She colored; she did not want to speak of her father or her cousin. -“You see what a busy thing rumor is,” she said. - -“You divine how harmless I am,” he went on, stooping again to throw -another stick into the blaze; “a single Republican in a wilderness of -Democrats. I’m no better than one old woodchuck in a cornfield.” - -“A little leaven will leaven the whole lump,” she laughed. - -Her new tone, which was easy now and almost friendly, touched him and -melted his reserve; he looked up smiling and caught her beauty and -warmth, the lovely contour of her face. Her hat had been lost, and -the fire was drying her moist hair, which was loosened in soft curls -about her forehead. Her presence there began to reach the man’s inner -consciousness, from which he had been trying to shut her out. He was -fighting to bar his thought against her, and her lovely presence in his -room seemed to diffuse a warmth and color and happiness that made his -pulses throb more quickly. Even the dog felt her benign influence and -looked up at her approvingly. Trench steadied his mind to answer her -banter in her own tone. - -“The lump will reject the leaven first, I fear,” he said lightly; “I -never dreamed of such vivid convictions with so little knowledge,” he -added. “I come from a race of calm reasoners; my people were Quakers.” - -“Oh!” She blushed as the exclamation escaped her, for she had suddenly -remembered the six cents and understood the absurdity of his seven-mile -walk; it was the Quaker in him. “I know nothing in the world about -Quakers beyond their--their--” - -“Hats?” he laughed; “like cardinals, they have that distinction.” - -“Do you think me very ignorant?” she asked, unconscious that she was -bridging the social chasm again and again, that she had, indeed, -forgotten it in her interest in the man. His dog had come over now and -laid his head in Diana’s lap, and she caressed it unconsciously; the -dumb overture of friendship always touched her. - -Trench turned. The firelight was on both their faces, and he met her -eyes with that luminous glance which seemed to compel hers. “It would -be very difficult for me to tell you what I think of you,” he said -deliberately, but with a humorous kindness in his voice. - -Diana drew back; she was not sure that she was annoyed. It was new, it -was almost delightful to meet a primitive person like this. She could -not be sure of social banalities here; he might say something new, -something that stirred her pulses at any moment. It was an alarming but -distinctly pleasurable sensation, this excursion into another sphere; -it was almost as exciting as stealing pears. She looked at him with -sparkling eyes. - -“Couldn’t you try?” she asked daringly, and felt a tremulous hope that -he would, though she could not believe it possible that he would -calmly cross the social Rubicon again, and make her feel that all men -were and are “of necessity free and equal.” - -“You do not really wish me to try,” he retorted; “to you this is -an adventure, and I”--he smiled, but a deeper emotion darkened his -eyes--“I am the dancing bear.” - -Her cheeks reddened yet more deeply, and her breath came quickly. What -had she done? Opened the way for a dilemma? This man would not be -led; he was a new and alarming problem. She was trying to collect her -thoughts to answer him, to put back the old tone of trivial banter, to -restore the lost equilibrium, but happily she was spared the task. The -tempest had lulled unnoticed, while they talked, and they were suddenly -aware that the shop-door had opened and closed again, and some one -was coming toward them. The next moment Dr. Cheyney appeared at the -threshold, and Diana sank back into the shelter of the old chair with a -feeling of infinite relief. - - - - -V - - -HALF an hour later Caleb Trench was helping his two guests into the -doctor’s old-fashioned, high-topped buggy. - -“That’ll do, Caleb; I’ve got her safely tucked in,” Dr. Cheyney said, -as he gathered the reins up and disentangled them from old Henk’s -tail. “I reckon Henk and I can carry her all right; she isn’t any more -delicate than a basket of eggs.” - -Diana smiled in her corner of the carriage. “Thank you again, Mr. -Trench,” she said gently; “it’s nice to have some one considerate. Dr. -Cheyney has always scolded me, and I suppose he always will.” - -“Think likely,” the doctor twinkled; “you mostly deserve it, Miss -Royall.” - -“He’s worse when he calls me names,” Diana lamented, and bowed her head -again to Caleb as old Henk started deliberately upon his way. - -The hood of the vehicle shut off her view, and she did not know that -Trench stood bareheaded in the rain to watch the receding carriage, -until the drenched green boughs locking over the road closed his -last glimpse of it in a mist-wreathed perspective, beautiful with -wind-beaten showers of dogwood bloom. - -The two inside the buggy were rather silent for a while. Diana was -watching the light rainfall. The sun was breaking through the clouds, -and the atmosphere became wonderfully translucent. Great branches were -strewn by the way, and a tall pine, cleft from tip to root, showed the -course of a thunderbolt. The stream was so swollen that old Henk forded -with cautious feet, and the water lapped above the carriage step. - -“Drowned out most of the young crops,” Dr. Cheyney remarked laconically. - -“What sort of a man is Caleb Trench?” Diana asked irrelevantly. - -Dr. Cheyney looked around at her with quizzical eyes. “A shopkeeper,” -he replied. “I reckon that’s about as far as you got before to-day, -wasn’t it?” - -She colored. “I suppose it was,” she admitted, and then added, “Not -quite, doctor; I saw that he was odd.” - -The old man smiled. “Di,” he said, “when you were no higher than my -knee you’d have been more truthful. You know, as well as I do, that the -man is above the average; he’s keeping shop and reading law down at -Judge Hollis’ office, and he’s trying to teach the backwoodsmen honest -politics. Taken out a pretty large contract, eh?” - -Diana looked down at her fine strong hands lying crossed in her lap; -her face was deeply thoughtful. “I suppose he’s bent on rising in -politics,” she said, with a touch of scorn in her voice; “the typical -self-made man.” - -“You didn’t happen to know that he was a gentleman,” Dr. Cheyney -remarked dryly. - -She met his eye and smiled unwillingly. “I did,” she said; “I saw -it--to-night.” - -“Oh, you did, did you?” The old man slapped Henk with the reins. “Well, -what else did you see?” - -“Very little, I imagine,” she replied. “I suppose I thought he had ‘a -story’; that’s the common thing, isn’t it?” - -“Maybe,” admitted the doctor, “but it isn’t so, as far as I know. -Caleb Trench comes of good old stock in Pennsylvania. His father lost -a fortune just before Caleb left college; the old man’s dead, and his -wife, too. Trench has had to work and work hard. He couldn’t take his -law course, and he’s never complained. He got together a little money -and had to pay it all out for his sister; she was dying of some spinal -trouble, and had to be nursed through a long illness and buried. Trench -gave every cent; now he’s making a new start. Hollis likes him, so does -Miss Sarah.” - -Diana smiled. “It’s something to please Miss Sarah.” - -“I never did,” said William Cheyney calmly; “she declares I tried to -poison her last time she was laid up with sciatica. She’s taking patent -medicines now, and when she’s at the last gasp she’ll send for me and -lay the blame on my shoulders.” - -“It’s hard to be a doctor after all, isn’t it?” laughed Diana; then she -leaned forward and caught the blossoming end of a vagrant dogwood and -broke off the flowers as they passed. “Dr. Cheyney,” she went on, after -a long moment, “I’ve wanted you to see father again; I don’t believe -he’s well.” - -“Why not?” asked the doctor, his eyes on the mist of rain that seemed -to move before them like the pillar of cloud before the Israelites. - -“He’s moody,” she said, “he’s almost sad at times and--and he spent an -hour in the Shut Room--” She paused and looked questioningly at the old -man beside her, but he made no comment. - -In the pause they heard the slush of Henk’s hoofs in the muddy road. - -“I wish he wouldn’t,” Diana continued; “it’s beautiful--his devotion to -my mother’s memory, but I--I’m jealous of that Shut Room, it makes him -so unhappy. Couldn’t I break it up by taking him away?” - -The doctor shook his head. “Better not, Diana,” he cautioned her, -“better not. You can’t uproot an old tree. Let him fight his battle out -alone.” - -“I can’t bear that he should be alone,” she protested tenderly. “I -can’t bear to be shut out even from his griefs. Pa and I are all in all -to each other. Why does he never speak of mother? Is it his sorrow?” - -Dr. Cheyney nodded, pursing his lips. Henk jogged on. - -“It’s a long time,” said Diana, “I was only three years old.” - -“Let it be, my girl,” the old man counseled; “we can’t enter the -upper chamber of the soul, you know. David’s got to fight it out. -Sometimes”--the doctor let the reins go so slack that old Henk -walked--“sometimes grief is like a raw cut, Diana, and we can’t put in -a few stitches either; got to leave that to Providence.” - -“He isn’t well,” Diana insisted. - -“He’d be no better for my meddling,” Dr. Cheyney retorted, unmoved. - -“I wanted him to go East with me,” she continued, “to go to New York.” - -Dr. Cheyney glanced up quickly. “And he wouldn’t?” - -Diana shook her head. - -“Don’t you ask it,” cautioned the old man. “It’s the time of year when -your father’s full of notions; let him be.” - -“The time of year”--Diana met the doctor’s kindly eyes--“when mother -died?” - -William Cheyney turned red. The girl, looking at him, saw the dull red -stealing up to the old man’s white hair and wondered. - -“Yes,” he said. - -“Do I look like her?” Diana asked, after a moment of perplexed thought. - -“No!” said Dr. Cheyney shortly. - -Old Henk had climbed the last hill,--the one that always seems to meet -the sky until you have climbed it,--and there, below it, unfolded the -wide valley with the brown of new-plowed fields and the long strips of -lovely foliage. The mist of the rain was molten gold now, and a rainbow -spanned the sky. - -“I wish I did!” Diana sighed regretfully. - -“You’re the handsomest woman in the State,” the old doctor retorted -tartly. “What more do you want?” - -“The kingdoms of earth,” replied Diana, and laughed softly. - -Dr. Cheyney disentangled the rein again from old Henk’s tail, and they -turned the corner. - -“Diana,” he said abruptly, “did you happen to ask Caleb Trench to call?” - -“I?” Diana flushed crimson. “No,” she said reluctantly, “I didn’t.” - -Dr. Cheyney shook with silent laughter. “That’s the way you treat the -good Samaritan,” he said. “I’d rather be the Levite, Di.” - -She leaned back in her corner of the carriage, blushing but resentful, -a line between her brows. “It wouldn’t be any use,” she said. “I--I -couldn’t make him feel welcome there.” - -“You mean that Cousin Jacob would insult him,” Dr. Cheyney said bluntly. - -She stiffened. “I should protect my own guests,” she retorted hotly. - -“Could you?” asked the doctor dryly. - -Diana met his eyes indignantly; then a throb of pain in her ankle made -her wince. - -“I reckon it does hurt, Di.” The old man smiled compassionately. “I’ll -bandage it when we get you home. Don’t be capering off your horse again -in thunder-storms.” - -“I’d be sure to break my neck next time, I suppose,” she said ruefully. - -“Let it be a leg, Di,” advised the doctor, “that would give me a job; -the other would all go to the undertaker. He told me once,” he added, -with a twinkle, “that we worked so much together we ought to have a -common interest. I believe he wanted to found a trust--‘doctors’ and -undertakers’ amalgamated protected’--or something of that sort. I -begged off on the ground of injury to my profession. I told him it -wouldn’t do for a poor man like me to go into a trust with a rich -planter.” - -“Dr. Cheyney,” Diana interrupted, “I don’t want you to think that Jacob -Eaton rules our house; he has more influence with father than I wish he -had, but he can’t rule father.” - -“I suppose you’ll marry him in the end,” William Cheyney remarked -reflectively. - -Diana, leaning back in her corner, looked thoughtful. “No,” she said -slowly, “I don’t believe I will.” - -The doctor slapped Henk again with his loose rein. “Why not?” he asked -dispassionately. - -She thought a moment, a gleam of mischief deepening in her glance. “For -one thing, his eyes are too near together,” she said at last. - -“There’s no telling but what you could get them spaced better,” -he replied, twinkling; “science is advancing, and so is wireless -telegraphy.” - -Diana laughed. “Some one will like them as they are,” she said, “and -Jacob thinks them handsome.” - -“Sleek young cub!” said the doctor, turning in at the gate that led to -the old white house with its two wings and its belvedere. “I’d like you -to marry a real man, Di.” - -Diana leaned her head back in the corner and closed her eyes, as -the throbbing pain held her breathless again. Then she smiled. “Dr. -Cheyney,” she said, “do you remember the time I cried because you -wouldn’t give me the pink capsules?” - -“You were seven,” replied the doctor placidly. “I remember. They would -have killed you, but you screamed for them; you raised Cain about them.” - -“I wanted my own way,” said Diana, “and I want it still. I think I’d -better be an old maid.” - -Old Henk was jogging up the path, and before the doctor could reply a -negro stableman came running breathless, and stopped at the sight of -Diana. - -“Fo’ de Lawd, Miss Di!” he said, “I’se glad ter see you. Jerry done -come home drenched, an’ we ’se been out searchin’--scared ter tell de -col’nel.” - -“You old rogue!” said the doctor, “he was the first one to tell. Miss -Diana has sprained her ankle.” - -“He was right,” said Diana promptly; “father would have been out in the -storm and never found me. Texas, go on up and tell the colonel that -I’ve hurt my ankle; I won’t have him worried, and I can’t walk well -enough to deceive him.” - -The doctor looked at her quizzically. “That’s right, Di,” he said, -driving on; “you’ve spoilt him, but I reckon he can stand it if I can.” - -“He began it,” she laughed softly; “he spoilt me first.” - -Dr. Cheyney laughed too. “Perhaps he did,” he admitted -gently,--“perhaps he did, but I’m not sure; you’ve got to have your -trial, Diana.” - -They were at the door now, and she laid her hand suddenly over the old -man’s. “Dr. Cheyney,” she said, “won’t you thank Caleb Trench and tell -him I’d be glad to have him come up here? I want to thank him again -properly.” - -“No,” said Dr. Cheyney promptly, “I won’t.” - -Diana’s eyes opened. “Why?” she demanded, flushing hotly, half -indignant. - -The doctor looked over the top of his spectacles. “He wouldn’t come, -Diana,” he said; “you wouldn’t either, in his place.” - -She did not answer, but turned away abruptly and reached out both hands -to Texas, who helped her down. “Good-bye, doctor,” she said coolly, -standing with one hand on the negro’s shoulder. - -The doctor climbed out. “Go to!” he said, smiling grimly; “I’m coming -in to bandage your ankle. Don’t cry for the pink capsules again, Di.” - -And Diana turned crimson with anger. - - - - -VI - - -IN the weeks that followed, while Diana nursed her sprained ankle in -enforced retirement, changes were taking place at the Cross-Roads. -Caleb Trench did not close his little shop, but he put out the new -sign: “Caleb Trench, Attorney-at-law.” - -The little rear room, into which he had carried Diana, was converted -into an office, with a new table and another bookcase. Shot, the -yellow mongrel, moved from the rear door to the front, and the great -metamorphosis was complete. If we could only change our souls as easily -as we do our surroundings, how magnificent would be the opportunities -of life! - -Caleb Trench had opened his law office, but as yet he had no clients, -that is, no clients who were likely to pay him fees. The countrymen who -traded with him and knew him to be honest came by the score to consult -him about their difficulties, but they had no thought of paying for -Caleb’s friendship, and Caleb asked them nothing. Yet his influence -with them grew by that subtle power that we call personal magnetism, -and which is, more truly, the magnetism of vital force and sometimes of -a clear unbiased mind. - -For the most part Caleb and the dog sat together in the office, and -their friendship for each other was one of the natural outcomes of the -master’s life. The solitary man loved his dog, and the dog, in turn, -adored him and lay content for hours at his feet. It was the seventh -week after he had carried Diana into his little shop, and as he sat -there, by his desk, the moving sunshine slanting across the floor of -the office, he recalled the instant when her head lay unconsciously on -his shoulder and her cheek touched his rough coat. For one long moment -his mind dwelt on it, and dwelt on her by his fire, with the glow of -it in her eyes, her soft voice, her sweet manners, in which there was -just a suggestion of condescension, until she forgot it and spoke to -him naturally and freely. He saw her plainly again, as plainly as he -saw the swaying boughs of the silver birch before his window. Then he -thrust the thought resolutely away and turned almost with relief to -face the shambling country youth who had entered without knocking. - -“Well, Zeb?” he said shortly, but not unkindly. - -“I stopped by ter see yo’, Mr. Trench,” Zeb Bartlett drawled slowly; “I -thought mebbe yo’d help me out.” - -Trench glanced at him and saw that he had been drinking. He was a -lean, lank boy of nineteen, with a weak face that gave evidence of a -weaker brain, and he bore a strong resemblance to his half-sister; he -was accounted almost an idiot by the gossips of Eshcol, and was always -in trouble, but, as he was the only grandson of a poor old woman, he -escaped his deserts. - -“What do you want now, Zeb?” Trench asked dryly, turning back to his -papers; he was still studying law with a zeal that was later to bear -fruit in the case that divided Eshcol. - -“I want two dollahs,” Zeb said with a whine. “I haven’t had any work -fer a week, an’ Jean’s starvin’ agin. Gimme two dollahs, Mr. Trench, -an’ I’ll return it with--with interes’ on Saturday night, sho’,” he -said, triumphing at the end, and pulling off his soft felt hat to rub -his head helplessly. - -“Not two cents,” said Caleb; “you’d get drunk.” - -“I sure won’t!” protested Zeb, his mouth drooping and his hands falling -weakly at his sides, as if he had suddenly lost the starch necessary to -keep his lines crisp. “I ain’t seen liquor fer a month.” - -“What have you been drinking then?” Trench asked, with the ghost of a -smile. - -“Water,” said Zeb, rallying, “water--ef it warn’t fer that I’d be dry -ez punk. ’Deed, Mr. Trench, I needs money. Jean’s mighty sick.” - -“No, she isn’t,” said Caleb. “I spoke to her at the market this -morning.” - -Zeb’s mouth opened again, like a stranded fish, and he stared; but -he wanted the money. “She wuz took sick after that,” he explained, -brightening, “she asked me ter git it. Gimme er dollah, Mr. Trench.” - -“No,” said Caleb. - -“Fifty cents,” whined Zeb, but a sullen look was coming into his light -eyes. - -“No!” - -“Twenty-five cents!” pleaded the borrower, wheedling, but with angry -eyes. - -“Not a cent; you’d spend it on whiskey,” Caleb said. - -Zeb’s face changed, the cringing attitude of a seeker of a favor fell -from him, he snarled. “You’re a low-down, mean, sniveling shopkeeper!” -he began. “I believe Jean’s tellin’ on yo’, sure enough, I--” - -Caleb rose from his seat, his great figure towering over the drunkard, -as he took him by the collar and thrust him out the door. “Go home,” he -said, “and don’t you ever come here again!” - -Zeb fell out of his hand and shambled up against the silver birch, -sputtering. He hated Trench, but he was afraid to give voice to his -wrath. Besides, Shot was between them now, every hair erect on the -ridge of his spine. Zeb shook his fist and trembled. - -“Go home,” said Trench again, and then to the dog, “Come, Shot!” and he -turned back contemptuously. - -As he did so, a tall farmer in brown homespun, with a wide-brimmed -straw hat, drove up in his light wagon and got down to speak to him. -The newcomer’s eyes fell on Zeb. “Drunk again,” he remarked. - -Trench nodded, and the two went into the office. - -Zeb Bartlett sank down under the trees and wept; he was just far enough -gone to dissolve with self-pity. He believed Trench to be a monster who -owed him two dollars for his very existence. He sat under the silver -birch and babbled and shook his fist. Then his thirst overcame him, and -he gathered himself together again and shambled down the road toward -the nearest public house. He usually earned his drinks by scrubbing the -floors, but this morning he had not felt like scrubbing and, because -scrub he must, he hated Caleb Trench yet more, and turned once in the -road to shake his fist and weep. - -Meanwhile Trench was going patiently through the papers of his new -visitor, Aaron Todd. The stout mountaineer owned timberlands, had -a sawmill and grew corn on his fertile lower meadows for the city -markets. Todd was considered rich, and his money was sought for new -investments. The get-rich-quick machines thrive upon the outlying -districts. Todd had been asked to put more money in the Eaton Land -Company; he had some there already and was suddenly smitten with a -caution that sent him to Caleb. The lawyer was new, but the clear -brain of the shopkeeper had been tested. Todd knew him, and watched as -he turned the papers over and read the glowing circular of the Land -Company, its capital, its stock and its declared dividends. It was -alluring and high sounding, a gilt-edged affair. - -Trench looked up from the long perusal, the perpendicular line between -his brows sharp as a scar. “Are you all in?” he asked abruptly. - -Todd shook his head. “No,” he said tersely, “about five thousand. I -could put in ten, but that would strip me down to the ground. The -interest’s large and I need it if I’m to run that sawmill another -year.” - -“Don’t do it,” said Trench. - -As Todd took back the papers and strapped them together with an -India-rubber band, his face was thoughtful. “Why not?” he asked at -last; “you’ve got a reason.” - -Trench nodded. - -Todd looked at him keenly. “Mind tellin’ it?” he asked. - -“Why, yes,” said Caleb, “it’s not proven, but I’m willing to show you -one objection; this scheme is offering abnormal interest--” - -“And paying it,” threw in Todd. - -“And paying it now,” admitted Trench, “but for how long? Why can they -pay ten per cent when the others only pay four and a half? I’d put my -money in the four and a half per cent concerns and feel safe. When a -firm offers such an inducement, it’s not apt to be sound; it isn’t -legitimate business, as I see it.” - -Todd put the papers slowly back into his pocket. “Mebbe you’re right,” -he admitted, “but they’re all in it; I reckon the whole East Mountain -district’s in it, an’ half of Eshcol. They say it’s Jacob Eaton’s.” - -Trench strummed lightly on the desk with his fingers. “So they say,” he -assented without emotion. - -Todd ruminated, cutting off a piece of tobacco. “Eaton’s bent on -lickin’ Yarnall out of the nomination, an’ we don’t want Aylett again. -I believe I’ll take to your ticket,” he remarked. - -Trench looked at him, and his full regard had a singularly -disconcerting effect; Diana herself had felt it. “Vote for Peter -Mahan,” he said coolly. - -“See here, Trench,” said Todd abruptly, “I believe you’d make a man -vote for the devil if you looked at him like that!” - -Caleb laughed, and his laugh was as winning as his smile; both were -rare. “I’m only suggesting Mahan,” he said. - -“We’ve never had a Republican, not since five years before the war. -That was before I was born,” Todd replied. “It would sweep out every -office-holder in the State, I reckon.” - -“Where’s your civil service?” asked Trench dryly. - -“It’s rotten,” said Todd. “There ain’t a man in now that ain’t an -Eaton or an Aylett runner. I’d a damned sight rather hunt a flea in -a feather-bed than try to catch Jacob Eaton when he’s dodging in -politics.” - -“Yet Mr. Eaton has you all in the hollow of his hand,” said Trench. -“You don’t like his methods; you’re all the time reviling his politics, -but there isn’t a man among you that dares vote the Republican ticket. -It’s not his fault if he is your boss.” - -Todd rubbed the back of his head. “There’s a pesky lot of truth in -that,” he admitted reluctantly, “but--well, see here, Mr. Trench, about -three quarters of the county’s his, anyway, and the rest of it belongs -to men who’ve invested with him an’ they’re afraid to run against him.” - -“This Land Company seems to be about the biggest political engine he -has,” Caleb remarked. “Twenty-nine out of every thirty tell me the same -story. Practically, then, Mr. Eaton hasn’t bought you, but he’s got -your money all in his control, you elect his underlings and through -them he governs you, speculates with your money, and, in time, you’ll -send him to the United States Senate. As a matter of fact, if the same -system worked in the other States, he could be President.” - -“By George, so he could! I hadn’t thought of it,” said Todd, letting -his heavy fist fall on the table with a force that made every article -on it dance. “Mr. Trench, I want you to put that before the people -up to Cresset’s Corners. There’s going to be a town meeting there on -Friday night. If you’ll let me, I’ll post it in the post-office that -you’ll speak on the Republican ticket. You can just drop this in as you -go along.” - -Caleb thought hard, drawing a line on the table with his paper-cutter. -“I’m perfectly willing to speak for the Republican ticket,” he -said, amused, “but this is not germane to that subject. If they ask -questions I’ll answer them, but I wouldn’t start out to attack Mr. -Eaton personally without grounds. I’ve said all I want to say here and -now; of course I’ll say it over again in public, but I can’t throw Mr. -Eaton’s method into the Republican ticket.” - -“I’ll ask all the questions,” said Todd. “What I want is, to get the -facts out. Everybody’s for Eaton because everybody’s scairt, an’ -really Yarnall’s the best man we’ve got.” - -“Then vote for Yarnall,” Trench advised coolly. - -“He ain’t Republican, an’ you want the Republican ticket,” protested -Todd, a little bewildered. - -“We can’t elect it,” said Caleb; “even with the Democratic Party split, -we can’t get votes enough. If you’re a Democrat vote for Yarnall.” - -Todd folded his tobacco pouch and thrust it into his trousers’ pocket, -with burrowing thoughtfulness, then he pulled the crease out of his -waistcoat. “How many have you said that to?” he asked. - -Trench smiled. “To every man who has asked me,” he replied, “the -Republican ticket first and Yarnall next.” - -Todd rose and picked up his broad hat. “I reckon we’ll have Yarnall -after all,” he drawled, “but you’ll speak Friday, Trench?” - -Trench nodded. - -Just then some one came into the shop with the frou-frou of ruffled -skirts. Caleb went out, followed by Shot first and Todd last. Shot -greeted the newcomer with uplifted paw. Miss Kitty Broughton bowed -and shook hands with the dog, laughing; she was very pretty, and in -a flowered muslin, with a broad-brimmed saucy straw, she looked the -incarnation of spring. No one would have imagined that she was a -granddaughter of old Judge Hollis and a grandniece of Miss Sarah. - -She went up to the counter and pushed a square white envelope across -to Caleb. Meanwhile, Aaron Todd had gone out to his wagon and was -climbing into it. Trench took the envelope, smiling back into Miss -Kitty’s laughing blue eyes, and opened it. - -“So you’re ‘out,’ are you, Miss Broughton?” he asked, “or is this only -the first alarm?” - -“It’s my first really and truly ball,” said Kitty, “and Aunt Sarah’s -going to lead the Virginia Reel!” She clapped her hands delightedly. -“You’ll come, Mr. Trench?” - -“I haven’t been to a ball in six years,” replied Caleb, smiling, “I -wouldn’t know a soul. You’re good to me, Miss Broughton, and I’ll send -a bouquet.” - -“You’ll come!” said Kitty. - -He shook his head, still smiling. “Shot would be better fun,” he said; -“you mustn’t invite shopkeepers, Miss Kitty.” - -Kitty pouted, but a red streak went up to her hair. She knew she would -be teased by her intimates later for that very thing. Yet Caleb was -a gentleman, and Judge Hollis loved him; Kitty was not sure that she -could not love him herself if he tried to make her, but he never did, -and he looked as detached now as a pyramid of Egypt, which was a nettle -to her vanity. - -“Will you come?” she demanded, leaning on the counter and nestling -her little round chin into the hollow of her hands. Something in the -gesture made him think of Diana--if Kitty had but known it! - -“Can’t you let me off?” he asked good-naturedly. - -She shook her head. “Please come,” she said. “I bet Judge Hollis a -dollar that I’d make you--and I’ll have to go without my dollar if you -refuse; he swore you would.” - -“Suppose you let me pay the debt, Miss Kitty?” Caleb smiled. - -She shook her head. “Oh, it’s more than the money,” she protested. -“He’ll say I couldn’t get you to come. I’ve got some pride about it; I -hate to be laughed at.” - -“So do I,” sympathized Trench, “and they’ll laugh at me for going. -They’ll call me the Yankee shopkeeper--but I’ll go.” - -She clapped her hands delightedly. “Really? Honor bright?” - -“Honor bright,” he affirmed; “will you dance with me, Miss Broughton?” - -“The very first dance,” laughed Kitty. “You’re the captive of my bow -and spear. You’ll be angry, too, for everybody wants to dance first -with Diana Royall. She’s the belle, and her sprained ankle’s well -again. Was it true that you carried her in out of the rain?” she asked -curiously, her blue eyes dancing. - -“I didn’t know you gossiped,” parried Trench. - -“Oh, I love it!” she protested, “and Diana won’t tell me. It sounds so -romantic, too. I’ll know, though--because you’ll ask her to dance next -if you did.” - -“I don’t think you will know,” said Caleb. - -She looked across the counter at him, her head on one side. “Why won’t -you tell me?” - -“Ask Miss Royall,” he suggested quietly. - -“I know it’s true now!” Kitty cried. - -“Go home and mind your own business, you minx!” said Judge Hollis, -suddenly appearing, his large figure filling the door. “Don’t let her -waste your time, Caleb,--the idlest little girl in the county.” - -“I’ve won my dollar!” cried Kitty, presenting an ungloved little hand, -the pink palm up; “pay your debts, sir.” - -The judge laughed and drew out a silver dollar. “Are you going, Caleb?” -he asked. “I won’t pay till I’m certain; the baggage fleeces me.” - -“I’ve promised,” said Caleb, smiling; “she’s fairly earned it, Judge.” - -“There it is, miss,” said the judge and kissed her. “Now go home!” - -Kitty laughed. “I can’t,” she said, “I’ve got a dollar more to spend -at Eshcol. I’m going into town. Good-bye, and be sure you come, Mr. -Trench.” - -“He will,” said the judge firmly, “or you’ll refund that dollar.” - -“I’ll go, Miss Broughton,” Caleb said, though in his heart he dreaded -it; he had a proud man’s aversion to meeting discourtesy from those -who despised his poverty, and he had observed the red when it stained -Kitty’s cheek. But, after all, it was a small matter, he reflected; to -one of Caleb’s habits of thought the social part of life was a small -matter. Yet it is the small things which prick until the blood comes. - - - - -VII - - -A WEEK from that day Caleb Trench addressed a crowd of backwoodsmen and -some of the Eshcol farmers at the town hall at Cresset’s Corners. Even -if a reporter had not been there, it would have passed by word of mouth -all over the county, and, later, through the State. - -There are moments when the eloquence of man consists in telling the -truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. The fact that the -countrymen had not heard it for nearly fifteen years clothed it with -spell-binding powers. For half an hour Caleb Trench talked to them with -extraordinary simplicity and directness; when he had finished they knew -how they were governed and why. He had the power of making his argument -clear to the humblest, and yet convincing to the most learned, which is -the power that men call persuasion. In that half-hour they found that -they had raised up the Golden Calf themselves, and that it had smitten -them. Jacob Eaton suddenly appeared like a huge spider whose golden -web had immeshed the entire State, while they themselves were hung in -it like wounded flies. Yet, yesterday, Jacob Eaton had been a young -man of fine family and immense influence. That night they went home -disputing and lay awake, in the agonies of reflection, trying to find -a way to withdraw themselves from his investments; that they could not -find it involved them in still deeper distress. All this while, the -figure of Caleb Trench began to stand out sharply and suddenly, like -the silhouette thrown on the sheet by the lamp of the stereopticon. - -He made no effort to keep himself before them; having told them the -truth, he acted as if he had performed his mission and went about his -own business, which was chiefly, just then, keeping shop and reading -law only at night. The summer trade was on, the roads were good, and -customers more plentiful than clients. - -Thursday night was the date of Kitty Broughton’s ball; Wednesday, of -the previous week, brought Caleb his first client. The two events -afterwards fixed many things in his memory, for at this time he was -trying to forget that Miss Royall had ever sat in his old armchair by -the stove. The peculiarly haunting qualities of some individuals, who -are not spooks, is past explanation. Caleb felt that there was no more -pricking misery than to see eternally one face and one figure in his -favorite chair, when neither of them could ever possibly belong there, -and it was to his interest to forget them. There should be, by the -way, a method for exorcising such ghosts and compelling their rightful -owners to keep them labeled in a locked cabinet instead of projecting -them upon the innocent and the defenseless. Caleb’s method consisted, -at present, in turning the old chair upside down in the closet back of -the kitchen, which ought to have discouraged any self-respecting ghost, -yet Wednesday morning he got it out again and put it reverently in its -place, with a sheepish feeling of having committed a crime in trying to -dishonor it. - -It was after the ceremony of restoration that Juniper arrived with a -long face. He had been temporarily reconciled to Aunt Charity and was -shouldering her chief responsibility, her son Lysander. - -“De jedge, he sent me down ter see yo’, suh,” Juniper explained, -twisting his battered hat as usual. “I’se in a po’erful lot ob trouble -an’ so ez de ole woman.” - -Caleb moved a little impatiently. “The silver teapot?” he asked dryly. - -“No,” said Juniper, without embarrassment, “no, suh; de folks up ter -de Corners ez gwine ter hab Lysander ’rested. I reckon dey hez had him -’rested a’ready. Dey says he dun stole der chickens on Monday. Et wuz -de dark ob de moon, suh, an’ dat make it seem ez if dey got er case. De -jedge, he tole me ter come ter yo’.” - -Caleb felt that Judge Hollis was enjoying his first case. He almost -heard the shouts of Homeric laughter from that inner office. “You’ll -have to prove that he didn’t steal the chickens,” he said. “In the -first place, who are the people?” - -“Mr. Todd’s folks,” Juniper replied, “an’ dey ses et wuz two pullets -an’ er cockerel.” - -Trench knew where Aaron Todd lived and recalled, less vividly, the -presence of a large chicken-yard. “How do they suppose he could have -carried them off undiscovered, even at night?” Caleb argued. “If I -remember where the chicken-yard is, you could hear a commotion among -the fowls at any time, particularly at night. It will be a simple -matter, Juniper, when we prove an alibi.” - -Juniper rubbed the back of his head thoughtfully. “Dat’s so, suh,” he -replied; “I ’low dat I don’ wanter pay his fine, an’ Charity, she don’; -she sho’ won’t pay et bekase she say I oughter, an’ ef Lysander goes -up fo’ sixty days an’ works on de roads, he ain’t gwine ter do anodder -stroke all de year; dat’s Lysander; I knows ’im.” - -“What time do they say the chickens were stolen?” - -“Monday mawnin’, ’bout two o’clock.” Uncle Juniper rubbed his sleeve -thoughtfully across his forehead. - -“Then we must prove an alibi,” said Caleb, swinging around in his -chair to view his client more directly. “The point is clear; where was -Lysander at two o’clock Monday morning?” - -“I specks he wus up dar, suh,” said Juniper cheerfully. “He ain’t let -on ter me dat he wuz anywhere else.” - -Caleb got up abruptly and threw open the door into the shop; he had -seen Colonel Royall coming. Then he dashed off a note to Aaron Todd, -enclosing a cheque for the two pullets and the cockerel, and gave it to -Juniper. - -“Take that up to the Corners,” he said briefly, “and I think Lysander -will get off without arrest, but tell him if he steals any more I’ll -thrash him.” - -“Yes, suh,” said Juniper, expectant but unbelieving. - -Later, however, when Todd took the money and let Lysander off, he was -convinced, and, like all new converts, he became a zealot, and went -about telling of the miracles wrought by the new lawyer. Thus did -Caleb’s fame go abroad in the byways and alleys, which is, after all, -the road to celebrity. - -Meanwhile, Colonel Royall, very inconsiderately, sat in Diana’s chair. -He had heard of the speech at Cresset’s Corners, and knew that Trench -was supporting Yarnall for the Democratic nomination. Yet the colonel -admired Trench, the force of whose convictions was already bearing -fruit. - -Eight weeks before, Colonel Royall had made a formal call on Caleb to -thank him for his courtesy and service to Diana. He was a Southern -gentleman of the old school, and he had done it without allowing even a -drop of condescension in his manner. Moreover, he liked Trench and was -trying to put together the modesty of the man, who had colored at his -acknowledgments, with the incendiary ability that could rouse and hold -a meeting of backwoodsmen on a subject that was as foreign to their -understanding as it was alarming. Admitted, for the first time, into -the inner office, the colonel gazed about with almost as much curiosity -as Diana, and he drew conclusions not unlike hers, but more pregnant -with the truth. - -The colonel’s own face in repose was infinitely sad, yet when he -spoke and laughed his expression was almost happy. But he had been -twenty years turning the key on his inner self, and the result was an -exterior that reminded an observer of an alabaster chalice in which the -throbbing pulse of life lay clasped and all but crystallized. His face -in repose had almost the sweetness of a woman’s, and only when the blue -eyes blazed with sudden wrath was there ever cause to fear him. That he -was a dreamer of dreams was apparent at a glance; that he could keep -an unhappy secret twenty years seemed more improbable. He leaned back -in his chair, clasping his hands on top of the stout hickory stick he -carried. - -“Mr. Trench,” he said slowly, with his Southern drawl, “I congratulate -you on your success in politics.” - -Caleb turned red. He was aware of the universal prejudice against his -politics in Colonel Royall’s class. “Thank you, Colonel,” he said -formally, rising to look for glasses in his cupboard. “I can’t offer -you fine old wine, sir, but I have some Kentucky whiskey that Judge -Hollis sent me.” - -“After the speech at Cresset’s?” The corners of the colonel’s mouth -twitched. - -Caleb poured out the whiskey and handed the glass to his guest. “You -know the judge well, sir,” he remarked, and his composure under the -jest won upon the colonel. - -He tasted the whiskey with the air of a connoisseur. “In Virginia, Mr. -Trench, we should make this into juleps,” he said appreciatively; “the -judge was raised in the Kentucky mountains and he knows a good thing -when he sees it. I read the report of your speech, sir, and I admired -it, but”--the colonel let his hand fall a little heavily on the arm of -the chair where Diana’s elbow had rested,--he little knew the enormity -of his action--“if I thought it was all true I should have to change my -coat. I don’t--but I believe you do.” - -“Thank you,” said Trench quietly, “I do.” - -“Very good, sir,” said Colonel Royall; “then you did right, but you’ve -made more enemies than you could shake a stick at. Jacob Eaton’s my -cousin, a young man yet, but mighty clever, and I reckon he’ll remember -all you said. There isn’t any call for me to resent things for Jacob! -No, sir, I honor you for your courage, if those are your convictions, -but Yarnall can’t be elected here.” - -“I think he can, Colonel,” Caleb replied, unmoved. The lines about his -mouth straightened a little and there was a glint in his gray eyes; -otherwise his composure was unruffled. - -Colonel Royall set down his empty glass and waved aside the proffered -bottle. “No more, sir, it’s too good to be safe; like most fine things, -a little goes a long way. What makes you think you can nominate -Yarnall? Of course you can’t elect a Republican, so I see your point -in trying to influence the Democrats. By gum, sir, it’s the first time -it’s been attempted, and it’s knocked the organization into splinters; -they’re standing around waiting to see what you’ll do next!” The -colonel laughed softly. - -“They’ll nominate Yarnall and they’ll elect him,” said Caleb; “Aylett -can’t get two votes out of ten. I’m sorry to go against your candidate, -Colonel,” he added, smiling. - -“Eh?” said the colonel; he was, in fact, suddenly aware of the charm of -Caleb’s rare smile. He had not known that the man could smile like that. - -“I’m afraid I appear an interloper in a fenced, no-trespass field,” -Caleb continued pleasantly. “I’m a Republican, of course, and”--his -eyes twinkled--“something of a Yankee, but, as we can’t elect a -Republican, you must forgive me for choosing the less instead of the -greater evil.” - -Colonel Royall picked up his broad-brimmed Panama and twirled it -thoughtfully on the top of his stick. “What’s your objection to -Aylett?” he asked meditatively. - -Trench was momentarily embarrassed, then he plunged boldly. “In the -parlance, we would call him a machine man,” he said; “he was elected by -the same system that has ruled this State for years; he’s bound hand -and foot to it, and his reëlection means--a continuance of the present -conditions.” - -It was now Colonel Royall’s turn to smile. “You mean a continuance of -Jacob Eaton? Well, I expect it will, and I don’t know but what it’s a -good thing. You haven’t converted me to your heresy, Mr. Trench, but -I’ve tasted of your hospitality, and if you don’t come and taste mine -I’ll feel it a disgrace. Why have you not come to see me, sir? I asked -you when I came here to acknowledge your courtesy to my daughter.” - -Trench reddened again. “I’m coming, Colonel,” he said at once, -“but”--he hesitated--“are you sure that a man of my political faith -will be entirely welcome?” - -Colonel Royall straightened himself. “Sir, Mr. Eaton does not choose my -guests. I appreciate your feeling and understand it. I shall be happy, -sir, to see you next Sunday afternoon,” and he bowed formally, having -risen to his full height. - -Caleb took his proffered hand heartily, and walked with him to the -door. Yet he did not altogether relish the thought of a call at Broad -Acres; he remembered too vividly his visit there to refund Diana’s -money, and reddened at the thought of a certain receipt which he still -carried in his pocket. He had set out to restore her change because -he did not wish her to think she had been overcharged, and it was not -until he had fairly embarked upon the interview that he had regretted -not sending it by mail, and had reached a point where stealing it would -have seemed a virtue! The fact that the Broad Acres people seldom, if -ever, came to his shop had made its return in the natural course of -events doubtful, and the matter had seemed to him simple and direct -until Diana met it. The Quaker in him received its first shock that -night, and he recoiled from giving them another opportunity to mortify -his pride. Before that he had regarded Miss Royall as supremely and -graciously beautiful; since then he had realized that she could be both -thoughtless and cruel. - -He stood in his door watching the old colonel’s erect figure walking -up the long road under the shadow of the great trees that lined it -at intervals. There was something at once stately and appealing in -the old man’s aspect, yet there was power in his eyes and the pose of -his white head. He reminded Caleb of an old lion, sorely stricken but -magnificent; some wound had gone deep. As yet the younger man had no -notion of it; when he did know he marveled much at the strange mingling -of knight-errantry and tenderness in the breast of one of Nature’s -noblemen. As it was, he was supremely conscious that he liked Colonel -Royall and that Colonel Royall liked him, but that the colonel was -vividly aware that the shopkeeper at the Cross-Roads was not his social -equal; Caleb wondered bitterly if he went further, and considered that -the gentleman of good blood and breeding was his equal when in law and -politics? - -He turned from the door with a whimsical smile and patted his dog’s -uplifted head; then, as his eyes lighted on the worn leather chair in -which the colonel had just sat, he turned it abruptly to the wall. - - - - -VIII - - -BEFORE Sunday Caleb’s settlement of his first case was celebrated in -Eshcol. Judge Hollis got the facts from Juniper and spread the story -abroad. It was too good to keep. The cockerel was valued at three -dollars, being rare, and the pullets cost seventy-five cents each. The -attorney for the defendant had paid the costs without pleading the case -at the bar. - -The judge asked if he intended to settle all difficulties on the same -plane? If so, he could send him enough clients to form a line down -the Mississippi from St. Louis to New Orleans. Juniper was telling it -too, without grasping the judge’s point of view. As a lawyer, Juniper -claimed that Caleb Trench could out-Herod Herod. He protested that -the mere paying for the fowls had saved Lysander from being tarred -and feathered; for Aaron Todd’s indignant threats were magnified by -memory, and no one but Mr. Trench would have thought of so simple and -efficacious a remedy. - -The settlement of Lysander’s difficulties coming after the famed -Cresset speech created a sensation between wrath and merriment among -Caleb’s political opponents. What manner of man was he? Caleb Trench, -Quaker, posted on his door might have explained him to some, but to the -majority it would have remained Greek. Besides, Caleb was not orthodox; -he had always leaned to his mother’s religion, and she had been an -Episcopalian; between the two creeds he had found no middle course, but -he had a profound respect for the faith that brought Diana to her knees -with the simplicity of a child in the little old gray stone church -where the new curate had installed a boy choir. - -It was long past church time, and after the early Sunday dinner, when -he sat on the porch with Colonel Royall at Broad Acres. The colonel -was a delightful host, and this time he did not discuss politics; he -talked, instead, about his father’s plantation in Virginia before the -war, a subject as safe as the Satires of Horace, yet Trench fidgeted a -little in his chair. He was conscious that Diana was passing through -the hall behind him, and that, after her first correctly courteous -greeting, she had avoided the piazza. He was, in fact, distinctly the -colonel’s guest. - -Diana was more vividly aware of social distinctions than her father, -and less forgetful of them; she was only twenty-three, and the time was -not yet when she could forgive a man for doing anything and everything -to earn his bread. There were so many ways, she thought, that did -not embrace the village yardstick! Besides, she rather resented the -Cresset speech. Jacob Eaton was her cousin, three times removed it was -true, but still her cousin, and that held. Diana could not reconcile -herself to the freedom of political attacks, and Caleb Trench’s cool, -unbiased criticisms of Eaton and his methods seemed to her to be mere -personalities, and she had gone as far as quarreling with the colonel -for asking him to call. - -“I don’t like his attack on Jacob, pa,” she had said hotly; “he’s no -gentleman to make it!” - -The colonel meditated, his eyes twinkling. “He’s a good deal of a man -though, Di.” - -And Diana had turned crimson, though she did not know why, unless she -remembered suddenly her own impression of him in his little office, -when the flare of the burning wood fell on his face. All these things -made her angry and she had received him with an air that reminded -Trench of the receipt for six cents, yet Diana was superbly courteous. -Neither Mrs. Eaton nor Jacob appeared; they lived about three miles -away, and Mrs. Eaton had refused absolutely to visit Cousin David on -Sunday if he intended to entertain the lower classes. She had only a -very nebulous idea of the political situation, but she thought that -Trench had vilified Jacob. - -But with the colonel Caleb was happily at home; even the colonel’s -slow drawl was music in his ears, and he liked the man, the repose of -his manner, the kindly glance of his sad eyes, for his eyes were sad -and tender as a woman’s. Yet Colonel Royall had shot a man for a just -cause thirty years before, and it was known that he carried and could -use his revolver still. The fire of the old-time gentleman sometimes -sent the quick blood up under his skin and kindled his glance, but his -slow courtesy made him ever mindful of others. Sitting together, with -the sun slanting across the lawns and the arch of the horse-chestnuts -shadowing the driveway, Caleb told the colonel the story of his -father’s failure and, more lightly, something of his own struggles. -Then he got down to reading law with Judge Hollis. - -“A pretty costly business for you, sir,” the colonel said wickedly, and -then laughed until the blue veins stood out on his forehead. - -Caleb laughed too, but colored a little. “Juniper is an old rogue,” he -said amusedly. “I should have bribed him to hold his tongue.” - -Colonel Royall straightened his face and rubbed his eyeglasses on a -dollar bill, which, he held, was the only way to clean them. “Lysander -is the rogue,” he said, “and old Aunt Charity has been known to steal -Juniper’s clothes for him to wear. She dressed him in Juniper’s best -last year and sent him to the fair with all the money from her washing. -Meanwhile the old man had nothing but his blue jeans and a cotton -undershirt, and wanted to go to the fair, too. There was a great -row. Of course Lysander got drunk and was sent up for thirty days -in Juniper’s Sunday clothes. Lordy!” the colonel laughed heartily, -“you could hear the noise down at the embankment. Juniper wanted a -‘divorcement’ and his clothes, principally his clothes. Judge Hollis -and I had to fit him out, but he and Aunt Charity didn’t speak until -there was another funeral; that brings niggers together every time; -there’s a chaste joy about a funeral that melts their hearts.” - -The colonel laughed again reminiscently, but Caleb, being a young man -and human, was aware that Diana had crossed the hall again, and that -she must have heard her father laughing at him. It was not long after -this that he made his adieux, and he did not ask to see Miss Royall. -The colonel walked with him to the gate and pointed out the magnificent -promise of grapes on his vines. - -“It will be a plentiful season, Mr. Trench,” he said, “and I hope a -good harvest; let us have peace.” - -Caleb understood the tentative appeal, and he liked the old man, but -to a nature like Trench’s truth is the sling of David; he must smite -Goliath. “Colonel Royall,” he said, “no man desires peace more than I -do, but--peace with honor.” - -Colonel Royall stood in the center of his own gateway, his thumbs in -the armholes of his waistcoat, his white head bare. “Mr. Trench,” he -said, “I understand that we are not to have peace.” - -Thursday night Kitty Broughton gave her ball. Her father was dead, and -Judge Hollis stood beside her mother to help Kitty receive her guests. -Everybody who was anybody in the city came out, and all Eshcol was -there. Mrs. Eaton declared that it was the most mixed affair she ever -saw, when she recognized Caleb Trench. She told all her friends not to -allow any presuming person to present him to her, and in an hour she -had made all the guests painfully aware that there was a black sheep in -the fold. Then Kitty Broughton added fuel to the fire by dancing the -first dance with him, and it was discovered, by all the girls present, -that he danced exceedingly well, and quite as if he had always gone to -entertainments. This surprised those who criticized Mrs. Broughton for -asking him; yet not to have had him would have been to have the banquet -without the salt. For Jacob Eaton was there, too, and though he wore an -inscrutable face, it was exciting to wonder how he felt, and what would -happen if they met? - -Meanwhile, the dancing went on, and Mrs. Broughton had presented Trench -to several of the young girls from the city, who admired his dancing, -so he had partners; but he was aware of the frigidity of the atmosphere -and he had not asked Miss Royall to dance. Instead, Diana had danced -twice with her cousin and once with young Jack Cheyney, a nephew of -the doctor. She was very beautiful. Trench looked across the ballroom -at her and thought that no sculptured figure of nymph or dryad had -ever excelled the beauty of her tall young figure, its slender but -perfect lines, and the proud pose of her head. She wore a white brocade -flowered with pink, like apple-blossoms, and Trench thought of her and -the spring buds in his lonely office. The splendid diamond that shone -like a star above her forehead reminded him of the wide divergence in -their fates. - -Judge Hollis found him and laid a fatherly hand on his shoulder. “Glad -to see you out, Caleb,” he said heartily; “a change will do you good. -Mouldy old law-books and old men pall on a young fellow like you. I saw -you lead off with Kitty. The minx is pretty and dances well. Have you -asked Diana to dance?” - -“No,” said Trench; “Miss Royall has too many partners to accept -another, I fancy.” - -“Better ask her,” counseled the judge; “the lady is something of a -tyrant. Don’t get on her black books too early, sir; besides, courtesy -demands it. Didn’t she accept your care and hospitality?” - -“She had to,” said Trench dryly. - -“Precisely,” smiled the judge; “now ask her to dance and give her the -chance to say ‘no,’ then she’ll forgive you.” - -“I fancy there are more things to forgive than that,” replied Caleb -musingly; “Mrs. Eaton has let me feel the weight of my social position.” - -“My dear boy, Jinny is the biggest cad in the world,” said the judge, -drinking a glass of punch; “go and do as I tell you or I’ll drop your -acquaintance. By the way, Caleb, how much are cockerels now?” and the -old man’s laughter drew all eyes. - -But it was after supper that, very much against his determinations, -Caleb found himself asking Diana to dance. He has never known how it -happened, unless it was the compelling power of her beauty in the -corner of the ballroom when the music began again. - -“May I have the honor?” he asked. - -Diana hesitated the twentieth part of a second; it was almost -imperceptible, but it sent the blood to the young man’s forehead. Then -she smiled graciously. “With pleasure,” she said in a clear voice. - -It happened that they swept past Eaton, her skirt brushing against him, -and in another moment they were going down the old ballroom together. -All eyes followed them and returned to Jacob Eaton, who was standing -discomfited for an instant. It was only one instant; the next Jacob was -more suave and smiling than ever, and an heiress from Lexington danced -with him. However, in that one instant, his face had startled the -groups nearest him. People suddenly remembered that it was said that -Eaton carried firearms at all times, and was one of the straightest -shots that side of the Mississippi. - -Later, when Diana was driving home with her father, she spoke her mind. -“I wish you’d make Jacob Eaton behave himself, pa,” she said; “he acts -as if I belonged to him and he could choose my--my friends! I don’t -like his manners up at Broad Acres, either; he said the other day that -the cold grapery should be pulled down, and that he didn’t believe in -owning a race-horse.” - -Colonel Royall rubbed the back of his head thoughtfully; his eyes were -troubled. - -“His manners are becoming insufferable,” Diana went on, without heeding -the silence. - -“If he’s rude to you, Diana,” the colonel said quietly, “just say so -and I’ll thrash him.” - -“I sometimes wish you would!” she retorted wrathfully, and then, -reaching up in the dim carriage, she patted the colonel’s cheek. -“You’re an old dear,” she said fondly, “but you do get imposed on, and -Jacob never does!” - - - - -IX - - -DR. CHEYNEY’S old gig traveled up the hill just behind Mrs. Eaton’s -carriage, and both turned into the gateway of Broad Acres. - -That was the morning after Kitty Broughton’s ball. The doctor had not -been there, having had a bad case on his hands in Eshcol, and he was -full of excitement over a new review of the Cresset speech published in -New York, in a great metropolitan daily. It seemed that Caleb Trench -was going to be celebrated and old William Cheyney had championed -him. He had the paper in his pocket and wanted to show it to Colonel -Royall, but there was Mrs. Eaton, and when the doctor climbed down from -his high seat she was already delivering her opinion to Diana and her -father, and she did not suppress it on account of Dr. Cheyney. - -“I can’t imagine what has come over you, Colonel Royall!” that lady -was saying with great indignation; “you must be out of your senses to -allow Diana to dance in public with a common shopkeeper, a--a kind of -hoodlum, too!” - -This was too much for Dr. Cheyney, who shook with silent laughter; and -there was a twinkle in Colonel Royall’s eye. - -“My dear Jinny,” he said pleasantly, “have you lived all these years -without knowing that it’s Diana who bosses me?” - -“I call it a shameful exhibition,” continued Mrs. Eaton hotly. “I never -have believed in mixing the classes--never! And to see my own cousin, -and a young girl at that, dancing with that--that fellow! As far as it -looked to other people, too, she enjoyed it.” - -“Did you, Diana?” queried Dr. Cheyney mildly, standing with his hands -in his pockets, and a queer smile on his puckered old face. - -“I did,” said Diana, very red. - -“Whoopee!” exclaimed the doctor, and went off into convulsions of -laughter. - -Mrs. Eaton’s wrath passed all bounds. “At your age,” she said loftily -to Diana, “I should have been ashamed to confess it.” - -“I am,” said Diana. - -“I’m truly glad of it!” cried Mrs. Eaton. - -“Let’s get the stuffing out of it, Jinny,” suggested the colonel mildly. - -“I don’t know what you mean,” said Mrs. Eaton stiffly. “I should call -that an extremely vulgar expression. I’m very glad that Diana is -ashamed, and I only hope it will never occur again. In my day, young -ladies of social prominence were careful who they danced with. I’m sure -I can’t see any reason for Diana dancing with Mr. Trench. Any one who -reads that abominable speech of his at Cresset’s can see, at a glance, -that he’s an anarchist.” - -“Don’t you think that’s going some, Jinny?” argued the colonel mildly; -“you might have said socialist, and still been rather strong.” - -“I never could see any difference,” retorted the lady firmly, settling -herself in the most comfortable wicker armchair. “An anarchist blows -up everything, and a socialist advises you to blow up everything; the -difference is altogether too fine for me!” - -“Just the difference between cause and effect, eh, madam?” suggested -the doctor delightedly, “and all ending in explosion.” - -“Exactly,” said Mrs. Eaton, with an air of finality. “Diana, why in the -world did you dance with him?” - -“Because you and Jacob didn’t want me to,” Diana replied calmly. - -Both the old men chuckled, and Mrs. Eaton reddened with anger. “You -are very unnatural, Diana,” she said severely. “Jacob and I have your -interests at heart. He didn’t consider the man a proper person for you -to be acquainted with!” - -Diana opened her lips to reply, but the colonel forestalled her, -anticipating trouble. “He’s been my guest, Jinny,” he remarked placidly. - -Mrs. Eaton teased her head. “You’d entertain Tom, Dick and Harry for -charity’s sake, Cousin David,” she retorted; “the first time I saw him -here he brought six cents in change to your daughter.” - -“He’s honest, Mrs. Eaton,” said the doctor, twinkling; “he’s a Quaker.” - -“I don’t know anything about Quakers,” she replied stiffly, “I never -met one!” and her tone signified that she did not want to. - -“Well, they’re not anarchists, Jinny!” observed the colonel; “perhaps, -you’ve heard of William Penn.” - -“I’m not quite a fool, David,” she retorted in exasperation. - -Dr. Cheyney was enjoying himself; he had taken the rocker by the steps -and was swaying gently, his broad straw hat on his knee. He took the -New York paper out of his pocket and unfolded it. “Perhaps you’d like -to read a review of the Cresset speech, madam?” he said amiably; -“they’ve got it here, and they speak of Trench as a young lawyer who -has suddenly roused a State from apathy.” - -“Thank you,” said Mrs. Eaton, with overwhelming politeness, “you are -too kind. Probably Diana would like to read it.” - -Diana was rosy with anger, and her eyes sparkled. “Cousin Jinny, I -don’t like the man any better than you do!” she declared, “and I detest -and loathe that Cresset speech; I’ve breakfasted on it, and dined on -it, and supped on it, until--until I hate the name of it!” - -“Diana,” said Dr. Cheyney, “you’ll need those pink capsules yet!” - -“I can’t see what you all admire in that man!” protested Mrs. Eaton -irritably; “he keeps a shop and he goes to vulgar political meetings; -if that isn’t enough, what is?” - -“Why, the truth is, Jinny, that he’s a real live man,” said the -colonel, putting on his spectacles to read the New York version of the -Cresset speech. - -“I prefer a gentleman,” said Mrs. Eaton crushingly. - -Dr. Cheyney twinkled. “Madam,” he said superbly, “so do I.” - -Colonel Royall, meanwhile, was following the speech, line by line, with -his finger. Half-way down the column, he lowered the paper. “After all, -he was advocating the Australian ballot,” he remarked thoughtfully. - -“He wants to go to the people for the election of senators,” said -Dr. Cheyney; “he doesn’t believe in our legislatures when the great -corporations are interested. Yes, I suppose he does like the Australian -ballot.” - -“I should think he would,” said Mrs. Eaton promptly; “I’ve always -looked upon Australia as a penal settlement.” - -Dr. Cheyney shook with silent laughter again. “Madam,” he said, “do you -think him a possible ticket-of-leave man?” - -“I am disposed to think anything of a man who can and does support -Garnett Yarnall for governor,” she replied frigidly. - -Dr. Cheyney’s face sobered suddenly, and Colonel Royall rustled the -paper uneasily. After all, she had cause; a Yarnall had shot her -husband. The two men felt it less keenly than Diana. She rose suddenly -and offered her elderly relative her arm. - -“Cousin Jinny, let’s go and see my new rose stocks,” she said mildly; -“they’ve been set out in the south garden.” - -Mrs. Eaton rose, propitiated, and accepted Diana’s arm, the two moving -off together in apparent amity. Dr. Cheyney’s eyes followed them, and -then came back to meet the peculiar sadness of Colonel Royall’s. - -“Do you think she’s--she’s like--” The colonel’s voice trailed; he was -looking after Diana. - -“No,” said Dr. Cheyney sharply, “no, she’s like your mother.” - -The wistful expression died in the other man’s eyes, and he forced -a smile. “You think so? Perhaps she does. Mother was a good woman, -God bless her memory,” he added reverently, “but a month ago”--he -leaned forward, and the hands that gripped the arms of his chair -trembled slightly--“a month ago I caught her looking at me; her eyes -are hazel, and”--he avoided the doctor’s glance, and colored with the -slow painfulness of an old man’s blush--“her eyes were just like her -mother’s.” - -Dr. Cheyney got up abruptly and laid his hand on his shoulder. “Wake -up, David,” he said sharply, “wake up--you’re dreaming.” - -“I haven’t breathed it to any one else, William,” Colonel Royall said, -“not in eighteen years--but I’ve seen it all the time.” - -His old friend eyed him grimly. “And it’s frightened you?” - -The colonel drew a deep breath. “William,” he said, “do you know how a -starving man would feel when he saw his last crust in danger?” - -The old doctor paced the broad veranda; beside it a tree of heaven -spread its graceful limbs, every branch still double tipped with the -rosy leaves of its spring budding. Before him stretched the tender -green of the south lawn, shaded by the grove of horse-chestnuts; beyond -he caught a distant glimpse of the river. - -“David,” he said uncompromisingly, “Diana has a noble heart, but--Jinny -Eaton is a fool.” - -“I know it,” said the colonel thoughtfully, “but she’s been a mother to -the girl and she loves her.” - -“She wants to marry her to Jacob,” snapped the doctor. - -“I know it,” said the colonel. - -“He’s not fit to tie her shoe,” retorted the doctor. “Jacob’s the -slickest critter in the county, but I haven’t got any more use for him -than Caleb Trench has--if he is your cousin.” - -The colonel looked thoughtful. “He’s very clever, William,” he -protested, “and he’s very much in love.” - -“Fiddlesticks!” said the doctor. - -Colonel Royall laughed a little in spite of himself. “You love Diana, -too,” he remarked. - -“I do,” said William Cheyney, “and I don’t believe Jacob will make her -happy. But, Lord bless me, David, you and I won’t do the choosing--Miss -Di will! In my opinion it won’t be Jacob Eaton, either.” Then he -added briskly: “This young lawyer of ours is right about Aylett; he’s -a machine man and the machine is rotten. We want Yarnall; I wish you’d -come to think so, too.” - -Colonel Royall thought, putting the tips of his fingers together. “The -truth is, the Eatons are too near to me,” he admitted quietly; “you -know Jinny can’t forget that a Yarnall shot her husband, and I don’t -know that I could ask it of her.” - -“Her husband was guilty,” said the doctor flatly. - -“I’m afraid he was,” admitted Colonel Royall, “though Mrs. Yarnall -denied it; the jury justified Yarnall.” - -“I can’t forgive one man for shooting another for an unworthy woman!” -said the doctor fiercely, forgetting many things. - -The slow red crept up to Colonel Royall’s hair. “I ought to have done -it,” he said simply; “but--but I let him live to marry her.” - -“Just so,” said William Cheyney; “solidly right, too; that’s purgatory -enough for most of ’em,” he added, under his breath, as he took the -long turn on the veranda. - -Colonel Royall did not hear him; his head was bare, and the light -breeze stirred his white hair; it had turned suddenly, twenty years -before. “It would be against all precedent for any of the family to -favor a Yarnall,” he remarked slowly. - -“Jacob won’t,” said the doctor shortly, a dry smile crinkling the -wrinkles around his kindly, shrewd old eyes. - -“Nor would you, in Jacob’s place,” countered the colonel, tapping the -floor with his stick. - -A negro appeared promptly at the door. - -“Two juleps, Kingdom,” he ordered. - -Dr. Cheyney ceased his promenade and sat down. “This State’s got to be -cleaned up, David,” he said maliciously; “we’ve got too much machine. -I’m all for Trench.” - -“I’m not sure I know what ails us,” objected the colonel humorously; -“we’re either bewitched or hypnotized. In a fortnight we’ve set up -Caleb Trench, and I reckon he’s more talked of than the volcano in the -West Indies.” - -“He will be later,” said the doctor; “there’s a man for you!” - -“They say he began by getting hold of the backwoodsmen; they go down -to his shop and discuss politics once a week; he organized them into a -club and made them take a pledge to vote for Yarnall.” - -“All rot,” said William Cheyney fiercely; “do you think the man’s a -damned rogue? He’s talked straight politics to ’em, and he’s showed -up some of the machine methods. By the way, David, he’s set his face -against Jacob Eaton’s get-rich-quick games. I don’t believe in ’em -myself; when that young bounder, Macdougall, came at me about them -the other day in the bank, I told him I kept all my money tied up in -a stocking. I reckon he thinks I do,” twinkled the doctor, “because -I’ve nothing in their bank. David, I hope you’re not favoring Jacob’s -schemes too heavily?” - -Colonel Royall looked perplexed. Kingdom-Come had just brought out a -tray with two tinkling glasses of iced mint julep, and he watched the -white-headed negro set them out deftly on the little portable basket -tea-table of Diana’s. - -“How are you feeling, Kingdom?” Dr. Cheyney asked genially, eying the -juleps. - -“Right po’ly, Doctah,” Kingdom replied, showing his ivories, “but I -manages ter keep my color.” - -“Eh?” said the doctor, startled. - -Kingdom-Come beamed. “But I’se got er mis’ry in my chest, an’ I reckon -I’se got vertigo an’ congestion ob de brain; I hez dese er dizzy turns, -suh.” - -“Take some castor oil, Kingdom,” said the doctor, placidly stirring his -julep, “and put a mustard plaster on your stomach.” - -“Yass, suh, thank yo’,” said Kingdom, a little weakly. “I’se done took -two doses ob oil this week, an’ I’se been rubbin’ myse’f wid some ob -dis yer kittycurah.” - -“Good Lord!” said Dr. Cheyney, “take a pint of whiskey and go to bed.” - -“William,” said Colonel Royall, after Kingdom had gone, “I don’t see -why you set your face so flatly against Jacob Eaton’s investments. Who -has talked this up?” - -“Caleb Trench,” said the doctor. - -“Heavens!” ejaculated Colonel Royall, “is there no end?” - -“To him?” Dr. Cheyney twinkled, “No, sir, not yet. He’s taken the -packing out of Jacob; he says that more than half these countrymen vote -with the Eaton faction because they’ve put all their money in the Eaton -Investment Company, and I’ll be hanged, sir, if he doesn’t state it -fairly.” - -Colonel Royall got up and stood, a towering figure of a man, his -blue eyes kindled. “William,” he said hoarsely, “that doesn’t sound -honorable.” - -“David,” retorted the old man uncompromisingly, “I tell the truth and -shame the devil--I’ve got an eighty-mile circuit in this county, sir, -and it’s true!” - -“Then, sir,” said Colonel Royall, “this county’s rotten.” - -William Cheyney leaned back in his chair and smiled quietly. “It’s the -same way in the State; the Eaton Company’s offering bigger interest -than any other company this side of the Mississippi; it hasn’t cut its -rate, even in the panic, and it’s getting new investors every day--or -it did till Caleb Trench got up at Cresset and cut the thing in two.” - -“Caleb Trench?” repeated the colonel slowly. “William, that young man’s -creating a sensation. I begin to doubt him; does he mean it, or is he -bidding for notoriety?” - -Dr. Cheyney smiled grimly. “David,” he said, “you ask Judge Hollis; he -believes in him and so do I.” - -“I don’t know why I shouldn’t believe in Jacob,” said the colonel -stiffly; “he’s my own blood, and we might as well believe in one young -man as another. What’s the difference between them?” - -“Well,” replied the doctor slowly, “when I go into a grocery store and -see one basket of eggs labelled ‘Box eggs, fresh, thirty-two cents,’ -and the other basket, ‘Hen’s eggs, forty-five cents,’ I’m kind of -naturally suspicious of the box eggs. Not that I want to bear too hard -on Jacob.” - - - - -X - - -MEANWHILE Jacob Eaton rode out with Diana in the early mornings, before -even Dr. Cheyney had his breakfast. Jacob had no taste for sunrise or -the lark, but if Diana rode in the first freshness of morning, he rode -stubbornly beside her, more stubbornly than she cared to admit. - -After all, Jacob was her third cousin, and the propinquity, with the -close family relations which Mrs. Eaton jealously maintained, made him -seem even nearer. Without liking him very much, Diana had tolerated -his constant presence for so many years that it had become a habit. -No doubt we could grow happily accustomed to a hippopotamus as a pet, -if we could keep it long enough in our individual bathtubs. Usage -and propinquity! How many recalcitrants have been reconciled to an -unwelcome fate by these two potent factors in life! - -Diana, riding up the hill through clustered masses of rhododendrons, -was happily indifferent to Jacob at her bridle rein. Jacob was useful, -rather pleasant to talk to, and paid her the constant homage of -undisguised admiration. After all, it was pleasant to be with one to -whom she meant so much. She could hold him lightly at arm’s length, for -Jacob was too wise to hazard all for nothing, yet she was aware that -her lightest wish had its weight. It was only when he tried to assume -the right of an elder brother to meddle with her affairs, as he had at -Kitty Broughton’s ball, that she resented his interference. - -Jacob had, indeed, slipped into her ways with a tame-cattiness which, -no matter how it accorded with his sleek appearance, was in direct -contradiction to the character behind the mask. Diana, flouting him -in her girlish coquetry, was but sowing the wind; if she married him -later, she would reap the whirlwind, yet half her relations desired it. -Thus wisely does the outsider plan a life. - -Diana stopped abruptly and, bending from the saddle, gathered a large -cluster of pink rhododendrons; the dew was on them still and it -sparkled in the sunshine. - -“Why didn’t you let me break it for you?” Jacob asked mildly; “sometime -when you bend that way from your saddle you’ll lose your balance and--” - -“Take a cropper,” said Diana. “I hope I shan’t break my nose.” - -“Or your head, which would mean my heart,” he retorted. - -She laughed; she was very charming when she laughed and, perhaps, she -knew it. Diana was very human. “Which is harder than my head,” she -said; “in fact, I have heard something of the nether millstone.” - -“You would find it very brittle if you turned the cold shoulder,” said -Jacob calmly, flicking the young shrubs with his crop. - -“A piece of broken crockery,” mocked Diana; “you will have it mended -when I marry some one else.” - -“On the contrary,” he retorted, unmoved, “to quote the romancer: ‘_Je -vais me fich’ à l’eau._’” - -“What?” she questioned, with lifted brows. - -“It’s French,” he explained. - -“So I supposed,” replied Diana, “but not as I learned it.” - -“Nevertheless it is forcible,” said Jacob; “it means, inelegantly, that -I will pitch myself into the river.” - -“Inelegant and untruthful then,” said she. - -“I got it from a book,” he said, “a recent one, and famous. I am -quoting the modern novelists.” - -They had reached the crest of a low ridge, and through a growth of red -cedars could see the flash and leap of the river. Diana drew rein and -turned her face fully toward her companion. - -“Jacob,” she said abruptly, “why did you give all that money to -Juniper?” - -Jacob smiled, his eyelids drooping; in the sunshine his clear smooth -skin looked waxy, as though it would take the impression of a finger -and keep it. “There’s an instance of my heart, Diana,” he said -sententiously. - -She studied him attentively. “Was it altogether that?” she demanded, -the straight line of her brows slightly contracted. - -“What else?” he asked lightly, leaning forward to break off a cedar -berry and toss it away again. “Look here, Di, you’re down on me--what’s -the matter?” - -“I want to understand you,” she replied slowly; “fifty dollars is too -large a sum to give all at once to a negro; you’ll corrupt a member of -the church, a brand snatched from the burning. Juniper has experienced -religion.” - -Jacob laughed. “Been stealing chickens lately, I reckon.” - -“No, it was Lysander,” corrected Diana demurely. - -“The shopkeeper lawyer can defend him again,” said her cousin; “all the -fools are not dead yet.” - -“No, indeed,” she agreed, so heartily that he looked up quickly. - -“I really meant to help the old nigger,” he said frankly; “he’s always -begging, and he’s been sick and out of work. I’m sorry if you think -fifty too much.” - -Diana touched her horse lightly, and they moved on. “Too much at one -time,” she said more gently. “He’ll spend it in an enormous supply of -tobacco, watermelons and whiskey, and probably go to the workhouse. If -he does, you’ll have to bail him out, Jacob.” - -“Isn’t there a bare possibility that the watermelons might kill him?” -he suggested meekly. - -“A negro?” Diana laughed. “Jacob, why didn’t you give it to Aunt -Charity?” - -“She has, at present, purloined the silver teapot,” said Jacob; “my -soul loves justice.” - -She looked sharply at him, her young face severe. “I believe you had -another motive. Are you sure that it was for his good, and only for his -good?” - -“Cross my heart,” said Jacob devoutly. “See here, Diana, why should I -fritter away my substance? Of what use on earth could that old nigger -be to me?” - -She looked thoughtful. The horses moved on evenly abreast. “None that -I can see,” she admitted honestly; “after all, it was good of you; -forgive me.” - -“After all, there is some good in me,” he replied, paraphrasing. “I’m -worth noticing, my fair cousin!” - -“When you come directly across the horizon!” laughed Diana. - -Below them now was the highroad, and as they looked along the white -bend of its elbow, below the ash and the young maples, they both saw -the tall straight figure of Caleb Trench. He did not see them; he -passed below them, and turned the shoulder of the hill. Diana said -nothing; her eyes had reluctantly followed him. - -“There goes a fool,” remarked her cousin, “or a knave.” - -“Why is it,” asked Diana, “that a man, failing to agree with another, -calls him names?” - -He laughed, his cheek reddening. “Why should I agree with that shyster?” - -“Why should that shyster agree with you?” she mocked, a light kindling -in her clear eyes. - -Jacob chuckled unpleasantly. “I hope you’ve never claimed that six -cents again,” he commented; “he’s got your receipt, you know.” - -It was her turn to redden. “You are jealous of his growing reputation,” -she flung at him. - -He shrugged a shoulder. “Of that beautiful speech at Cresset’s, in -which he painted me as the devil and all his works?” - -“I admired the Cresset speech!” she exclaimed, a sentiment which would -have amazed Mrs. Eaton. - -Jacob laughed. “So do I,” he said, “it was first-class campaign matter, -but--well, Di, personal abuse is a little vulgar, isn’t it, just now?” - -“Not if you deserved it,” she said defiantly. - -“I’d take any amount if you’d promise not to dance with him again.” - -“I’m the best judge of my partners,” said Diana, with indignant -dignity; “if any one speaks it should be my father.” - -“Aptly said,” he admitted suavely, “and the colonel is one in a -thousand, but you wind him around your little finger.” - -“You do not know Colonel Royall,” said Colonel Royall’s daughter, with -just pride. - -Jacob lifted his hat. “_Vive le Roi!_” he said. - -She gave him an indignant glance. “You are a mocker.” - -“On my soul, no!” - -“Jacob,” said Diana, “your soul, like the rich man’s, may scarcely pass -through the eye of a needle.” - -“My dear cousin, my soul has been passing through it under your -rebukes. What shall I do to please you?” - -Diana rode on, her chin up. The path was narrow, and Jacob, falling -behind, had only the privilege of admiring the long slim lines of her -athletic young back, and the way she sat her horse. Beyond the cedars -the path forked on the road, and he came up again. - -“I am chastened,” he said; “shall I be forgiven?” - -She laughed softly, then her mood changed. “Jacob,” she said, quite -seriously, “you are sure that you’ll renominate Governor Aylett?” - -“My dear Di, I am sure of nothing in this world but death,” he retorted -dryly, “but I’ll be--” - -“Cut it out, Jacob,” she cautioned, her eyes twinkling. - -“I won’t have Yarnall!” he finished lamely. - -She nodded. “I understand, but what is this about the backwoodsmen -being organized?” - -“Your friend, the shyster,” he mocked, “he has that line of politics; -he speaks well on top of a barrel. I suppose he can empty one, too.” - -“Not as easily as you could, Jacob,” she retorted ruthlessly. - -He raised his eyebrows. “I’ve been in love with you these many years, -and thus do you trample on my feelings!” - -“I wish you had feelings,” said Diana calmly; “you have mechanism.” - -“Upon my word!” he cried; “this is the last straw.” - -“You should be a successful politician,” she continued; “you are a -successful business man. Success is your Moloch; beware, Jacob!” - -“I am willing to sit at the feet of the prophetess,” he protested. -“I’ve served seven years, I--” - -“Jacob,” said Diana, “don’t be silly. There’s Kingdom-Come at the gate; -they are waiting to turn the omelet. Come!” and she galloped down to -the high gateway, the rhododendrons clustering at her saddle-bow and -the sunshine in her face. - -Kingdom-Come grinned. “Fo’ de Lawd, Miss Di, I reckon yo’ clean forgot -dat folks eats in de mawnin’.” - - - - -XI - - -THE next morning Judge Hollis walked into Caleb Trench’s little back -room. - -In the broad daylight the judge was a stately figure, tall, stout, -white-haired, with a high Roman nose and a mouth and chin like a -Spartan’s. He always wore an old-fashioned, long frock coat, a high -pointed collar and stiff black tie; in summer his waistcoat was white -marseilles, with large buttons and a heavy watch-chain; he carried a -gold-headed cane and he took snuff. - -He found Trench in his shirt sleeves, plodding over some papers, his -face flushed and his jaw set, a trick he had in perplexity. The judge -eyed him grimly. “Well,” he said, “what’s the price of cockerels -to-day?” - -Trench, who had not noticed his entrance, rose and gave the old man a -chair. “To-day I’m figuring out the price of men,” he replied; “every -single investor in the Eaton Land Company has been notified--in one -way or another--that only Aylett men are to go to the Democratic -Convention.” - -The judge whistled softly. - -“It’s true,” said Trench, throwing back his head with a peculiar -gesture of the right hand that was at once characteristic and -striking. “I’m ashamed for you Democrats,” he added. - -The judge squared his massive shoulders and gripped his gold-headed -cane. “You young black Republican agitator,” he retorted bitterly, -“produce your evidence.” - -Trench brought his palm down sharply on his desk. “It’s here,” he said; -“Aaron Todd has been threatened, but he did not put in his last savings -and is standing firm; the rest are like frightened sheep. Because I -pointed out this lever in my Cresset speech they seem to think it’s a -fulfillment, and they’ve poured in on me to-day to beg me to get their -investments out for them! Meanwhile the company has declared that no -dividends will be paid until after election, neither will they refund. -If I carry the cases into court against Eaton, he’ll take advantage -of the bankruptcy law. The investors in the country are frightened -to death, and they’d vote for Satan for governor if they thought it -would insure their money. Yarnall’s an honest man, but there are fifty -hand-bills in circulation accusing him of everything short of arson and -murder. That’s your Democratic campaign.” - -“And your Republican one is to stir up the niggers,” thundered the -judge. “Peter Mahan’s been out in the Bottoms speaking to ten thousand -blacks! By the Lord Harry, sir, I wish they were all stuffed down his -throat!” - -Whereat Caleb Trench laughed suddenly. “Judge,” he said, “if Peter -Mahan could be elected, you’d have a clean straight administration.” - -“He can’t be, sir,” snapped the judge, “and I’m glad of it!” - -“You’ll be sorry,” Trench remarked calmly, “unless you nominate -Yarnall.” - -“I’m for Aylett,” the judge said soberly. “I shall vote for Aylett in -the convention; Yarnall will split the party. That’s what you want, you -young cub!” - -Caleb smiled. “I’m interested to know how much money it will take to -nominate Aylett,” he said; “you’re for Aylett, judge, but you’re not -strong enough to defeat Yarnall.” - -“Neither are you strong enough to nominate him,” said the judge -sharply. “You look out for the blood feud, Caleb; these fellows behind -Jacob Eaton haven’t forgotten that the Yarnalls drew the last blood. -They’re mighty like North American Indians, and your Cresset speech -stirred up a hornet’s nest. I’m for Aylett and peace.” - -Trench folded the papers on his desk reflectively. “I can’t make out -Jacob Eaton,” he said. - -The judge chuckled. “He’s a mighty queer package,” he said grimly, -“a cross between a mollycoddle and a bully. Jinny Eaton raised him -in jeweler’s cotton for fear he’d catch the measles, and he went to -college with a silver christening mug and a silk quilt. When he got -there he drank whiskey and played the races, and some poor devil, who -was working his way through college, coached him for his exams. He got -out with a diploma but no honors, and enough bad habits to sink a ship. -Then Jinny introduced him to society as the Model Young Man. He’s been -speculating ever since, and he’s got the shrewd business sense that old -man Eaton had. He doesn’t care two cents for Aylett, but he’s going -to fight Yarnall to the knife. He-- What the devil’s the matter with -Zeb Bartlett?” the judge suddenly added, stooping to look out of the -window. “He’s been walking past the front door, back and forth, four or -five times since I’ve been sitting here, and he’s making faces until he -looks like a sculpin.” - -Trench laughed grimly. “He does that at intervals,” he replied, -“because I won’t lend him a dollar to get tipsy on.” - -The judge grunted, his head still lowered to command a view of the -shambling figure of the idiot. Then he rose suddenly and went to the -window, thrusting his hand into his pocket. “Here, Zeb!” he shouted, -in his stentorian tones, “take that and get drunk, and I’ll have you -arrested,” and he flung out fifty cents. - -Bartlett groveled for it in the dust, found it and grinned idiotically. -Then, retreating a few steps, he looked back and kissed his hand, still -gurgling. The judge watched him out of sight, then he sat down and took -snuff. “Don’t let that fool hang around here,” he said sharply; “it -will get a crank into his head and the Lord knows how it’s going to -come out. Give him a quarter and let him go.” - -“I won’t,” said Caleb dryly. “I’d rather give it to his grandmother; -she’ll need it.” - -“To be sure,” said the judge ironically, “and she’d give it to him with -a dime on top of it; that’s a woman down to the ground. If there’s -anything worthless within a hundred miles, they’ll adore it!” - -As he spoke, there was a rustle in the outer shop and Miss Sarah -suddenly thrust her head in the door. She always wore the most -extraordinary bonnets, and the one to-day had a long green plume that -trembled and swayed behind her head like the pendulum of an eight-day -clock. - -“Judge,” she said, “I wish you’d get up and go home. It sounds rude, -Caleb, but he’s always insisting on dinner at one o’clock sharp, -because his grandmother had it, and he’s never there until the roast is -overdone or the gravy is spoiled! Besides, I’m alarmed; I’ve discovered -something about Juniper.” Miss Sarah came in and shut the door and put -her back against it, her air conveying some deep and awful mystery. -“He’s got fifty dollars.” - -The judge brought down his heavy brows over his high nose in a judicial -frown, but his eyes snapped. “What’s the nigger been up to?” he asked -calmly; “been negotiating law business for him, Trench?” - -Caleb shook his head, smiling. - -“He’s been stealing,” said Miss Sarah with conviction. - -“Think likely,” said the judge, “but from whom? Not me, Sarah; if it -had been from me it would have been fifty cents.” - -“I never thought it was from you,” she retorted scornfully, “but I’ve -hunted the house over to see if he could have pawned anything and--” - -The judge brought his hand down on his knee. “The silver teapot, Sarah!” - -She shook her head. “Aunt Charity’s got it; she gave a supper last -night and they had their usual fight and she locked him out. He sat on -the step all night and came to our house for something to eat; then he -showed the fifty-dollar bill. Of course he stole it.” - -The judge meditated, looking grim. - -It was Trench who made the suggestion. “Isn’t that rather large for -campaign money?” he asked mildly. - -The judge swore, then he got up and reached for his hat. “I’ll make him -take it back,” he said viciously. - -“Take it where?” demanded Miss Sarah vaguely. - -“To Ballyshank!” retorted the judge, jamming his hat down on his head. - -They all emerged into the outer room just as Miss Royall appeared in -the shop-door. She was dressed in a pink muslin with a wide straw hat -trimmed with pink roses, and looked like a woodland nymph. The judge -swung off his hat. - -“We’ve been having a political tournament,” he said, “and now comes the -Queen of Love and Beauty.” - -Diana liked the old man and smiled her most charming smile. Miss Sarah -went up and pecked her cheek, a rite that elderly ladies still like -to perform in public. Trench, longing to play the host but too proud -to risk a rebuke, bowed silently. Something in Diana’s eye warned him -that she was minded to make him repent the dance she had given him; the -scoldings she had received were rankling in her mind. Unhappily, too, -something in the judge’s manner said, “So ho! is this a flirtation?” -Her cheeks burned. - -The judge blundered. “Let me offer a chair,” he said, with -old-fashioned courtesy, “then we will ask you to help us solve a riddle -of Sarah’s. She has found that Juniper is unusually rich, a kind of -ebony John Jacob Astor, the proud possessor of fifty dollars.” - -Diana declined the chair. “Juniper?” she repeated. “Oh, yes, I know all -about it!” - -“Did he steal it from you, dear?” Miss Sarah asked excitedly. - -“Jacob Eaton gave it to him,” Diana replied simply, “he thought he -needed it; he’s been out of work, and you know what a nuisance Lysander -is.” - -“But fifty dollars, my dear!” protested Miss Hollis faintly. - -Diana caught the glances between the judge and Trench and stiffened. -“My cousin is generous,” she said. - -The judge took snuff. - -Poor Caleb fell into the snare. “Miss Royall, do sit down,” he urged, -pushing forward the chair. - -Diana’s chin went up; her eyes sparkled. “Thank you, I only came for -that bolt of pink ribbon,” she said grandly, indicating it with her -parasol, and then, opening her purse, “How much is it?” - -“It’s sold,” said Trench, and shut his lips like a steel trap. - -Diana turned crimson. “Oh,” she said, then she swung around and drew -her arm through Miss Sarah’s thin black silk-clad elbow, that was like -the hook of a grappling iron. “I think you were going?” she cooed. - -The old lady hesitated, confused. “I--I--” she began. - -“Here’s the carriage,” said Diana sweetly, and drew her out of the -door; “there’s room for you, judge,” she called back, not even glancing -at Trench. - -“I’ll walk,” said the judge, “I’m a young man yet; don’t you forget it, -my girl!” - -Diana laughed. “The youngest I know, in heart,” she said, and waved her -hand as they drove off. - -The judge looked at Caleb soberly. “You’ve done it, young man,” he said -quietly. - -A slow painful blush went up to Caleb’s hair. “So be it,” he said -bitterly. “I’m human and I’ve borne all I can,” and he turned away. -“My God!” he added, with a violence so unusual and so heartfelt that -it startled the judge, “does that girl think me the dirt under her -feet because I’ve sold ribbon? I’m a gentleman; I’m as well-born and -as well-bred as she is, but she won’t recognize it--more than half -an hour. One day she’s--she’s an angel of courtesy and kindness, the -next she insults me. She and Eaton have made my life here a hell!” He -clenched his hands until the nails bit into the flesh. - -“She’s young,” said Judge Hollis slowly, “and ill advised.” - -Trench struggled to be calm; his face paled again, the light died out -of his eyes. “Let her leave me in peace!” he cried at last. - -The judge drew a pattern on the floor with his stick. “She admires you -immensely,” he said deliberately, “and she respects you.” - -Trench laughed bitterly. - -The judge put on his hat again and held out his hand. “I’ll give you -the odds on the money, Caleb,” he said, “but I’d like to know--by the -Lord Harry, I’d like to know--what Eaton’s buying niggers for at this -late date?” - -He got no answer. Caleb’s face was as set as flint. - - - - -XII - - -SOMETIMES early in the morning, and often at evening, Caleb Trench took -long walks alone with his dog. It was after sunset, in the sweet long -twilight of July, that he came up through the woods behind Colonel -Royall’s place, and approached the long elbow of the road, shadowed by -the tall walnuts and hickories, and clothed here and there with the -black-jack oak. Before him lay the beautiful valley. He could see the -curl of the mist below Paradise Ridge, and beyond, the long gray folds -of the distant mountains. He looked up toward the beaten trail that led -to Angel Pass, and he could perceive the fragrance of wild magnolias. - -Shot, who was running ahead, stopped suddenly and stood at attention, -one shaggy ear erect. Then Caleb saw the gleam of a white dress, and -Miss Diana Royall appeared, walking toward them. Over her head the -green boughs locked, and in the soft light she had a beauty that seemed -to Trench more than the right of a girl so apparently heartless. He -would have passed by the other road, merely raising his hat, but she -called to him. - -“Good evening, Mr. Trench,” she said, with that bewitching little -drawl of hers, which made her voice almost caressing and deceived the -unwary. “Your dog remembers me more often than you do.” - -Caleb’s face stiffened. Oh, the mockery of women! “I remember you more -often than you remember me,” he replied courteously. - -Diana bit her lip. She had not expected this, and she hated him for -it; yet he had never looked so strong and fine as he did to-night. In -the soft light the harsh lines were softened, the power remained, and -something of sweetness in the eyes. “Oh,” she said, “have I ever failed -to remember you?” - -Trench made no direct reply, but smiled. Something in her way, at the -moment, was very girlish, the whim of a spoiled child. She had been -gathering some ferns, and she arranged them elaborately, standing in -the path. His attitude vexed her, his manner was so detached; she was -accustomed to adulation. She swept him a look from under her thick dark -lashes. “I remember dancing with you at Kitty Broughton’s ball,” she -observed. - -“You were very kind,” he replied at once, “I remember it, too; you -danced with me twice.” - -“Because I promised to dance if you asked me; I promised Judge Hollis,” -she said demurely. - -“But the second?” Caleb was human, and his heart quickened under the -spell of her beauty. “I hope that was on my own account.” - -“The second?” Diana rearranged the ferns. “I danced then because my -cousin did not wish me to,” she said. - -Trench reddened. “I am sorry that you felt compelled to do it--twice,” -he said involuntarily, for he was angry. - -“You are very rude,” replied Diana, unmoved. - -“I beg your pardon,” he said stiffly, aware that he had been foolish -and lost his temper; “pray forgive me.” - -“It’s a matter of no consequence,” she said sweetly. - -His heart was filled with sudden wrath. Why need the girl be so brutal? -He did not know that Diana had been goaded by Mrs. Eaton and Jacob -until she was beyond reason; besides, his manner, which defied her, -was like tossing the glove at her feet. He had no appreciation of her -condescension, and he did not bear her flouting with meekness. Yet, -all the while, his strength and his repose made him immeasurably more -interesting than the young men of her acquaintance, which, of course, -was another reason to be unreasonable. - -“I did not see you at the Wilton-Cheyneys,” she said agreeably, -pressing the ferns against her cheek. - -“Quite naturally,” he replied coolly; “I was not asked.” - -“Oh!” - -There was a silence. The sweet soft twilight seemed to enfold them with -a touch like velvet; a Bob White whistled once in the stillness. - -“Miss Royall.” - -She looked up with her soft little smile, but his face froze it on her -lips. He looked stern and cold. “Yes?” she said, faintly startled. - -“Why do you say such things to me? You know that I’m not asked, that -I’m an outsider. A poor Yankee shopkeeper, I believe your set calls me; -I do not know. Certainly I do not care; a man must live, you know, even -out of your class. I have a right to live. I also have a right to my -own pride. I am a gentleman.” - -They stood looking at each other, the width of the woodland path -between them, and that indefinable, impalpable thing which is neither -sympathy nor antagonism but which, existing once between two souls, -can, never be forgotten,--a white flame that burns at once through all -barriers of misunderstanding, the divine spark of a love that is as far -beyond commonplace passion as the soul is above the body that it must -leave forever. The man felt it and bowed reluctantly before it; the -girl struggled and resisted. - -“If I did not know that you were,” she said, as quietly as she could, -“I would not be here talking to you now. I’m afraid you think me very -ill mannered. The last was really thoughtlessness.” - -He looked at her relentlessly. “But the first?” - -She blushed scarlet. “I--I did not mean it.” - -His eyes still searched her, but there was no tenderness in them; they -were cold and gray. “That is not quite true, Miss Royall.” - -Diana winced; she felt ten years old and knew it was her own fault. “I -think it is you who are rude now,” she said, rallying, “but”--it choked -her, she held out her hand--“let us be friends.” - -He shook his head slowly. “No,” he said, “that can’t be until you -are sure I am your equal. I’ve picked up crumbs long enough, Miss -Royall,--forgive me.” - -She experienced a curious feeling of defeat, as her hand dropped at -her side. She was angry, yet she admired him for it. She remembered -that night when he brought the hateful six pennies and she had behaved -disgracefully. Would he always put her in the wrong? “I am sorry,” she -said haughtily; “I was offering you my friendship.” - -He smiled bitterly. “Were you, or mocking me with it?” - -“Mr. Trench!” - -“Forgive me,” he said, in a low voice, but with less self-control, “I -came here a poor man; it was necessary to make my bread, and I would -have swept offices to do it. I asked nothing and I received”--he smiled -with exceeding bitterness--“nothing. Then, unhappily, Judge Hollis -found out that I was well-born; he told a few people that I was a -gentleman. It was a serious mistake; I have been treated like a dog -ever since.” He was thrashing the wayside brush with his stick, and -unconsciously beheaded a dozen flowers; they fell at Diana’s feet, -but neither of them looked down. “I do not wish to force myself upon -your acquaintance, Miss Royall,” he went on, the torrent of pent-up -passion unspent. “I understand the reason of your condescension at the -ball, but couldn’t you have found a more agreeable way to chastise your -cousin? I must have been insufferable?” - -The intensity of the man’s wounded pride had forced itself upon Diana; -she was crimson with mortification, yet she understood him--understood -him with a temperamental sympathy that sent a thrill of alarm through -her consciousness. “I never knew before how very bad my manners were,” -she said simply. - -He turned and looked at her. All that was womanly and beautiful in her -face was crystallized in the colorless atmosphere; her eyes dwelt upon -him with a kindness that was at once new and wholly unbearable. “I’m a -cub!” he retorted harshly; “how you must hate me!” - -“On the contrary,” she said very sweetly, “I like you.” - -Their eyes met with a challenge of angry pride, then a whimsical -smile quivered at the corners of her mouth, and she clasped her hands -innocently over her ferns. “When you begin to like me we shall be -friends,” she said. - -There was an instant of awkward silence, and then they both laughed, -not happily, but with a nervous quiver that suggested hysterical -emotion. - -“I do not know when I began--to dislike you,” he said. - -“I deserved it from the first, I fancy,” she retorted, hurrying on with -her determination to show her repentance; “I have behaved like a snob.” - -He did not reply; he stooped, instead, to pick up the flowers that he -had broken. “My mother would never step on a flower or leave it to die -in the road,” he explained simply; “whenever I remember it I pick them -up. As a boy I recollect thinking that there was some significance in -it, that I must not leave them to die.” - -Diana looked at him curiously, from under her lashes. What manner -of man was he? “It is a sweet thought,” she said, “in a woman--a -tenderness of heart.” - -“Her heart was as tender as her soul was beautiful,” said Caleb Trench; -“she died when I was twenty years old.” - -Diana held out her hand. “Will you give me the flowers?” she asked -simply. - -He gave them with a slight flush of surprise. “They are poor and -broken,” he apologized lamely. - -“I see that you think I have neither a heart nor a soul,” she replied. - -He smiled. “I do not let myself think of either, Miss Royall,” he said; -“I fancy that a wise man will always avoid the dizzy heights, and even -a foolish one will see a precipice.” - -Diana was silent; that she understood him would have been apparent to -the initiated, for her little ears were red, but the proud curve of her -lips remained firm and the steady glance of her eyes rested on the -darkening valley. The hills had purpled to gray, the sky was whitening, -and in the west the evening star shone like a point of flame. - -Out of the stillness her voice sounded unusually soft and sweet. “I’m -going to have some friends to tea to-morrow afternoon, Mr. Trench,” she -said; “will you come?” - -“No,” he replied, and then added: “Pardon me, that seems discourteous, -but I am not going out again here, Miss Royall.” - -Almost involuntarily she smiled. “We are playing the game of -tit-for-tat, Mr. Trench, and you’ve won.” - -“I have been a bear,” he replied, “but--Miss Royall, it’s growing dark; -let me take you home.” - -“I am waiting for my cousin,” she replied, and then blushed hotly. “I -promised to wait five minutes,” she explained hastily, “while he talked -to Mr. Saxton at the farm. I suppose it’s politics; we’ve been here -long enough to quarrel three times.” - -Trench assumed her engagement to Jacob Eaton and would not offer his -escort a second time. “I am taking the dog through the woods,” he said; -“shall we walk as far as the farm gate?” - -Diana laughed merrily. “I never went in search of a lost knight in -my life,” she said. “I’m going on; it’s quite light and beautiful -yet--good evening.” - -Trench swung around. “I will go with you,” he said at once, “if you -will permit me.” - -But at that moment Jacob Eaton came up. As he recognized Trench, he -stopped short and stared. Then he joined Diana without acknowledging -her companion. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said, “but the old fool -was deaf. We may as well go on, Diana.” - -But Diana stood still. “This is Mr. Trench,” she said. - -The two men looked at each other. Eaton had just heard more of what -Caleb Trench thought of the Land Company, but he knew Diana. - -“How d’ye do,” he said curtly. - -Trench made no reply. Diana gathered up the soft white folds of her -skirt and took two steps away. “Good-night, Jacob,” she said sweetly, -“Mr. Trench will see me home. Tell Cousin Jinny I’ll bring over the -terrapin recipe in the morning.” - -Jacob said nothing, and Trench whistled to Shot. The dog came bounding -and followed his master and Miss Royall down the path. - -Jacob stood stock-still and regarded what seemed to him the beginning -of miracles. Was it possible that Diana was in open rebellion against -society? That Diana should be in open rebellion against him was -not amazing. She was wont to let him know that he was a mere speck -on the horizon, but that he regarded as pretty coquetry, and of no -consequence, because he intended to marry Diana. But that Diana should, -a second time, prefer Caleb Trench to him was beyond belief, and that -she should do it after certain revelations that he had just heard, was -adding insult to injury, for Jacob had suddenly found that the poor -Yankee shopkeeper lawyer was a foe worthy of his steel. He remained a -long time motionless, his heavy lids drooping over his eyes and his -brows meditative. He was, after all, a gentleman of resources, and it -was merely a question of how to use them. - - - - -XIII - - -IT was midnight and storming hard when Dr. Cheyney stopped at Caleb’s -door. Trench heard the wheels and opened it as the old man climbed down -from his high buggy. - -“Caleb, I’ve come for brandy; got any?” the doctor said briefly, coming -in with his head bent in the rain; his rubber coat was drawn up to his -ears, and the tails of it flapped against his thin legs. - -Trench had been reading late, and there was a fire in the stove in the -kitchen. “Go in and get dry a moment, Doctor,” he said, “while I get -brandy. It’s no night for you, and at this hour too; your friends must -remonstrate.” - -“Damn it, sir, am I not the doctor?” said the old man, lowering. - -“You’re that and something more, I take it,” Caleb replied, smiling. - -“More?” Dr. Cheyney was out of temper. “Nay, nay, I’m just a plain -doctor, and I can take care of both your big toes. These new-fangled -ones can’t, sir, that’s all! It’s the fashion now to have a doctor -for your nose and another for your toes and a third for your stomach. -Very good, let ’em! I do it all and don’t get paid for it; that’s the -difference.” - -“They do,” said Caleb, producing a flask of brandy. - -The doctor took it and thrust it deep into his big outside pocket. -“I’ll pay you when I get ready,” he said dryly. - -Trench laughed. He heard the swirl of the rain against the -window-panes; it was nearly as bad as the day he had sheltered Diana. -He looked keenly at the worn little old man and saw the streams of -water that had streaked his coat. “I have a great mind to shut you up -and keep you all night,” he remarked. - -“For a ransom?” said the doctor grimly; “you wouldn’t get it. Caleb, -that poor girl, Jean Bartlett, is dying.” - -Trench was startled. “I didn’t know she was ill,” he replied; “Zeb came -here and whined for money when the grandmother died so suddenly, but he -said nothing of Jean.” - -“He never does,” said Dr. Cheyney, “the young brute!” - -“Are you going there now?” Caleb asked. - -“Yep,” replied the doctor briefly; “I wanted more brandy, for I’m like -to catch my death, but I must be about,--she’s dying. She may pull -through until morning. Pneumonia--a cold that last bad storm. She lay -out in the field half the night. She’s done it a hundred times when -they harried her; this time it’s killed her. She’s not twenty.” - -Caleb reached for his hat. “I’m going with you,” he said simply. - -Dr. Cheyney threw him one of his shrewd looks. “Afraid to trust me -alone in the wet?” he asked dryly. - -Caleb smiled. “To tell you the truth I was thinking of Sammy. The poor -little dirty beggar appeals to me, he’s thoroughly boy, in spite of his -curious clothes, and Zeb is a drunken brute.” - -The doctor grunted and went out, making room for Caleb at his side in -the buggy. “I’m going to send Sammy to St. Vincent’s,” he said. - -“Poor Sammy!” said Caleb. - -The doctor clucked, and old Henk moved off, splashing through muddy -water up to his fetlocks. The road was dark, and the doctor had swung a -lantern between the back-wheels, a custom dear to rural communities; it -swung there, casting a dismal flare under the buggy, which looked like -a huge lightning-bug, with fire at its tail. - -“Good enough for him!” continued the doctor bluntly, referring to Sammy -and the foundling asylum. - -“Plenty,” assented Caleb, unmoved. - -This angered the doctor, as Caleb knew it would. - -“Little brat!” growled William Cheyney fiercely, “what was he born for? -Foundling asylum, of course!” - -“Of course,” agreed Caleb, and smiled in the darkness. - -“Damn!” said the doctor. - -They traveled on through the night; the wind swept the boughs down, -and the rain drove in their faces even under the hood. - -“I can’t take him, drat it!” the old man broke out again fiercely. -“I’ve boarded for sixty years; women are varmints, good women, I mean, -and the Colfaxes wouldn’t take Sammy for a day to save his soul; he’s a -child of shame.” - -Caleb laughed silently; he felt the doctor’s towering wrath. “After -all, wouldn’t it be a purgatory for a small boy to live with the -Colfaxes?” he asked. - -“Yep,” said the doctor, “it would. Miss Maria pins papers over the -cracks in the parlor blinds to keep the carpet from fading, and Miss -Lucinda dusts my office twice a day, for which she ought to be hung! I -reckon they’d make divided skirts for Sammy and a frilled nightgown.” - -“There are the Children’s Guardians in the city,” suggested Caleb -thoughtfully. - -“There’s the Reform School,” retorted the doctor bitingly. - -Meanwhile old Henk traveled on, gaining in speed, for part of the -road was on his way home and he coveted the flesh-pots of Egypt. The -splashing of his feet in the mire kept time with the sob of the gale. -Nearer and nearer drew the light in Jean Bartlett’s window. - -“I told the Royalls she was dying,” Dr. Cheyney said, “and to-day -Diana was there. She sat with her an hour and tried to quiet her. Jean -was raving and, at last, I ordered the girl away; she’d no business -worrying in such a scene as that; then she told me she would take -Sammy! She--Diana!” the old man flung out his free hand and beat the -air, “that girl! I wanted to shake her. Yet, it’s like her; she’s got -heart.” - -Caleb Trench, sitting back in his corner, summoned up a picture of the -old man and Diana, and could not quite reconcile it with the Diana he -knew. “You did not shake her,” he said; “what did you do?” - -“Sent her home,” said the doctor bluntly, “drat it! Do you think a girl -of her age ought to start a foundling asylum for charity’s sake? I told -her her father would have her ears boxed, and she laughed in my face. -David Royall worships her, but, Lordy, not even David would tolerate -that!” - -A low bough scraped the top of the carriage and they jogged on. -Presently, old Henk stopped unwillingly and they got down, a little -wet and stiff, and went silently into the house. It was stricken -silent, too, except for the ticking of a clock in the kitchen, and that -sounded to Caleb like a minute gun; it seemed to tick all through the -house,--the three small rooms below, the rickety stairs and the attic -above. There was a light in the kitchen, and there, on top of some old -quilts in a packing box, lay Sammy asleep. - -In the room beyond the kitchen, in the middle of the great, -old-fashioned four-poster, that was worn and scratched and without a -valance, lay Jean Bartlett. Her fair hair streamed across the pillow, -her thin arms lay extended on either side, her chin was up, she lay as -if on a cross, and she was dead. - -From the far corner rose the woman whom the doctor had left to watch -her. “She’s just gone, doctor,” she said laconically, without emotion. - -Dr. Cheyney shot a look at her from under his eyebrows, and went over -to look at Jean. The light from the poor little lamp fell full on her -thin small-featured face and showed it calm; she was as pretty as a -child and quite happy looking. - -“Thank God!” said the doctor, “that’s over. Where’s Zeb?” - -“Up-stairs, drunk,” said the woman; “if it warn’t raining so hard I’d -go.” - -The doctor looked over his spectacles. “Then you’ll take the child -along,” he said gravely. - -“That I won’t!” said she, “I’ve children of my own. I won’t have none -such as him.” - -“Oh, you won’t?” exclaimed the old man. - -“I thought you’d take him,” said she, reddening. - -“There are two women folks up at the house,” said the doctor dryly; -“being a nameless child--out he goes!” - -“Well, I don’t care,” said the nurse fiercely, “I feel so myself; -there’s the foundling asylum.” - -“He’ll fall on the stove here in the morning,” remarked the doctor. - -The woman shut her mouth. - -“Zeb’s drunk,” the old man added. - -“I won’t take him,” she said flatly; “if I do, nobody’ll take him -away. It’s the same with a baby as it is with a stray kitten, once you -take it you keep it. I ain’t goin’ to take Jean Bartlett’s brat.” - -“Don’t!” snapped the doctor, “for of such is the kingdom of heaven!” - -Then he went out, turning his collar up again to his ears. “I’m going -for the undertaker, Caleb.” - -They stopped as he spoke and looked down at Jean’s boy. He lay with -his arm across his face; he had not been undressed and one foot hung -pendent in a forlorn and heelless shoe. - -“The end of the drama,” commented the doctor dryly, “the sufferer.” - -Caleb stooped down and gently lifted the sleeping child; he wrapped the -old quilt about him, and bore him to the door. The doctor followed, -then he reached over and put his hand on the latch. - -“What are you doing?” he asked sharply. - -“I’ve taken him,” said Trench calmly; “open the door.” - -“You’ve no one to care for him.” Dr. Cheyney eyed him keenly. - -“No,” he replied; “so much the better, the place is lonely.” - -“You know what they’ll say?” - -The young man’s face stiffened. “What?” - -“That he’s your child,” said the doctor. - -“Open the door,” said Caleb Trench. - -The doctor opened it, then Trench stood straight, Sammy’s tousled head -on his shoulder. - -“Dr. Cheyney,” he said sternly, “if every stone in Paradise Ridge rose -up to accuse me, I’d still do as I pleased.” - -William Cheyney smiled grimly. “I believe you would,” he said, “but let -me tell you, Caleb, you’ve got your fate by the forelock now!” - -Yet he helped Trench put the sleeping child into the carriage, and -as they did it a new sound gurgled into the night, the voice of the -tippler in the attic, who had been shut up there alone and frightened, -but was sipping and sipping to keep up his spirits. Now he sang, one -kind of spirits rising as the other kind went down. And the song that -followed them through the night, as they drove away from the house of -death, with the nameless child between them, was “After the Ball.” - -“The Lord forgive us!” said the doctor musingly; “it’s ‘after the ball’ -with most of us, and then the straight house! G’long with you, Henk!” - - - - -XIV - - -JUNIPER’S spouse, Aunt Charity, was in the habit of sweeping out -Caleb’s office and washing his windows, and the morning after Jean -Bartlett’s death was her morning for scouring the premises. She was -a stout old woman, nearly black, with a high pompadour, the arms and -shoulders of a stonemason, and “a mighty misery” in her side. She -stopped five times in the course of sweeping the inner office and -stood, leaning on her broom, to survey the bundle of indiscriminate -clothes on the floor, which was Sammy. - -The transfer had disturbed him so little that, after his first screams -of surprise, he had renewed his insatiable demands for pennies, and -having one clasped tightly in either fist he sat in the middle of the -floor viewing the world in general, and Aunt Charity in particular, -with the suspicion of a financier. On her side, suspicion was equally -apparent. - -“Fo’ de Lawd!” she said, and swept another half yard, then stopped and -viewed the intruder. “Fo’ de Lawd!” she said again. - -Sammy heard her and clasped his pennies tighter; he read enmity in her -eye and doubted. Aunt Charity swept harder, her broom approaching the -rear end of Sammy’s calico petticoat. “Git up, yo’ white trash, yo’,” -she commanded, using the broom to emphasize her order. - -“Won’t!” wailed Sammy, “won’t! Shan’t have my pennies!” - -“Git up!” said Aunt Charity; “w’at yo’ heah for, ennyway?” - -“Yow!” yelled Sammy, wriggling along before the broom and weeping. - -On this scene entered Caleb Trench, grave, somewhat weary, and with -a new stern look that came from a night’s wrestle with his own will. -“What’s all this, Aunt Charity?” - -“Ain’t noffin,” said she aggressively; “I’se sweepin’. I ain’t doin’ -noffin an’ I ain’t gwine ter do noffin to dat pore white trash.” - -“Yes, you will,” said Caleb calmly; “you’ll give him a bath and put -some decent clothes on him.” - -“N-o-o-o-o-o!” shrieked Sammy. - -“’Deed I ain’t!” retorted Aunt Charity, with indignation. “Ain’t dat -Jean Bartlett’s chile?” - -Trench nodded, looking from the old black woman to the small aggressive -bundle on the floor. Aunt Charity tossed her head. “I ain’t gwine ter -touch him!” - -A sudden fierce light shone in Caleb’s gray eyes, a light that had -a peculiarly quelling effect on the beholder. Aunt Charity met it -and cowered, clasping her broom. “You’ll do what I say,” he replied, -without raising his voice. - -“Fo’ de Lawd!” gasped Aunt Charity and whimpered; “yo’ sho ain’t gwine -ter keep dat chile heah?” - -“And why not?” asked Caleb. - -“Lawsy me, suh, ain’t yo’ gwine ter know w’at folks’ll say? Dere’s -gwine ter be a talkation.” - -“Very likely, poor little devil!” Caleb retorted grimly, “and your -tongue to help it, but you’d better hold it, Charity; you’re here to do -what I want--or to go elsewhere, see?” - -“Yass, suh,” she replied hastily, “I’se gwine ter do it, but I sure -wishes yo’d let me take de chile where he b’longs.” - -“Where he belongs?” Caleb turned sharply. - -“I ain’t sayin’,” cried Aunt Charity, thoroughly frightened, “I ain’t -saying--” Then she stopped with her mouth open, for she had seen the -figure in the outer room that Caleb did not see. - -Her look made him turn, however, to come face to face with Jacob Eaton. -He went out and closed the door on the inner office sharply, not -conscious that Aunt Charity promptly dropped on her knees and put her -eye to the keyhole. - -Meanwhile, the two men measured each other with peculiar enmity. Jacob -thrust his hands into his pockets and stood smiling, a smooth face but -not a pleasant one. - -“I came to see you on a matter of business,” he drawled, “but I’m -afraid I disturb you.” He had seen the scene in the inner room. - -Caleb’s height was greater than his, and he looked down at him with an -inscrutable face; his temper was quick, but he had the rare advantage -of not showing it. - -“I am quite at leisure,” he said coldly, without the slightest attempt -at courtesy. - -“I had the pleasure of reading your Cresset speech,” said Jacob -amusedly, “and I regret that I didn’t hear it. I congratulate you, it -was excellent reading.” - -Trench looked at him keenly. “You didn’t come here this morning to tell -me that,” he said. “Come, Mr. Eaton, what is it?” - -“No,” said Jacob, still smiling, “I didn’t come for that, you’re right. -I came to make a business proposition.” - -There was a pause, and Trench made no reply. Jacob began to find, -instead, that his silence was a peculiar and compelling weapon. - -“You have made me the butt of your speeches,” he continued, with his -first touch of anger, “and your attacks are chiefly aimed at the Land -Company of which I am the president. I suppose you are fully aware of -this?” - -Caleb smiled involuntarily. “I could not be unaware,” he observed. - -“Then, perhaps, you are not unaware of what I came for,” Jacob said. - -“Possibly,” replied Trench, folding his arms and leaning back against -the wall, and studying Eaton with a coolly indifferent scrutiny that -brought the color to Jacob’s face. - -“Ah, you have probably been expecting my visit?” he said; “in other -words, I suppose you’ve had an object in stirring up this excitement, -in directing this attack upon me.” - -“I have undoubtedly had an object,” Caleb Trench replied, after a -moment’s silence. - -Jacob’s smile was a sneer. “We’re business men, Mr. Trench,” he said; -“I’m here this morning to know the size of that object.” - -Caleb moved slightly, but his arms were still folded on his breast and -he still leant against the wall; his cool, unwinking gaze began to dash -Eaton’s composure; he could not be the finished and superior gentleman -he thought himself, under those relentless eyes. He shifted his own -position restlessly, drawing nearer to his adversary. - -“Come,” he said, “name your price.” - -“My what?” demanded Trench. - -“Your price,” Eaton sneered openly, his smooth face crimson. In -some way, to his own consciousness, he seemed to be shrinking into -insignificance before the other man’s strong personality, his force, -his coolness. - -“Do you suppose, because I have sold goods and handled merchandise, -that I am also on a level with my trade?” Caleb asked coolly, so coolly -that Jacob was blinded to his peril. - -“You are a trader,” said he bitingly, “a petty tradesman and a petty -politician; as such you have your price.” - -Caleb turned his face full toward him, and suddenly Eaton realized the -terrible light in his eyes. “You lie,” he said slowly, deliberately, -each word like a slap in the face; “you are a liar.” - -Jacob sprang at him, fury in his own face, and prudence gone. But as he -sprang Trench met him with a blow straight from the shoulder. It caught -Eaton fairly and sent him sprawling, full length on the floor. - -“By the Lord Harry, you got it, Jacob!” cried Judge Hollis from the -door, where he had appeared unheard. - -As Jacob rose foaming, Caleb saw Aaron Todd’s head behind the judge, -and after him Peter Mahan. - -There was no time to speak. Eaton flew at him again, his head down, -and for the second time Caleb landed him on his back. Then the judge -intervened. - -“That’s enough,” he said dryly. “I reckon he needed it, but he’s got -it. Get up, Jacob, and keep quiet.” - -But Jacob would not; he got up to his feet again and made a rush -forward, only to find himself clasped tight in Aaron Todd’s strong arms. - -“Be quiet,” said Todd, “you’ll go down again like a sack of salt, you -idiot! You’re too full of booze to risk a blow on your solar plexis.” - -Eaton swore. “Let me go,” he said, “do you think I’ll take it from that -fellow? You’re a prize-fighter!” he added between his teeth, lowering -at Trench, and wriggling helplessly in Aaron’s arms, “you’re a common -prize-fighter; if you were a gentleman you’d settle it with pistols!” - -“Tut, tut!” said the judge. - -“I will, if you like,” said Caleb coolly, his own wrath cooled by -victory. - -Jacob’s eyes flashed; he was a noted shot. “I’ll send some one to you -later,” he said, the perspiration standing out on his forehead, as he -wrenched himself from Todd’s arms. - -“I’ve a mind to report you both to Judge Ladd,” said Judge Hollis, but -his fiery old soul loved the smoke of battle. - -Jacob, panting and disheveled, reached for his hat. “It will be -to-morrow,” he said, “and with pistols--if you consent.” - -Caleb looked at Todd and Mahan. “Will you represent me, gentlemen?” he -asked quietly, something like a glint of humor in his eyes. - -Todd nodded, and Peter Mahan, a keen-visaged Irish Yankee, beamed. -To his soul a battle was the essence of life, and a duel was not -unreasonable west of the Mississippi. - -“Folly,” said Judge Hollis, secretly exultant, “rotten folly; let it -drop.” - -Jacob turned at the door, his face livid. “Not till I’ve sent him to -hell,” he said, and walked out. - -The judge brought his fist down on his knee. “By the Lord Harry,” he -said, “it was this day twenty-odd years ago that Yarnall shot Jacob’s -father.” - -“I shan’t shoot Jacob,” said Caleb dryly. - -Judge Hollis turned quickly. “What do you mean?” he began, but was -interrupted. - -The door between the rooms opened suddenly, after much restless but -unnoticed wriggling of the knob, and Sammy, in his plaid petticoat and -his brass-buttoned jacket, came in on wobbly legs. He stopped abruptly -and viewed the group, finger in mouth. - -“My God, what’s that?” exclaimed Judge Hollis blankly. - -Caleb laughed. “My ward,” he said, and then he looked up and met three -pairs of curious eyes. “It’s Jean Bartlett’s child,” he explained -simply; “she died last night, and Dr. Cheyney threatened the Foundling -Asylum, so I just brought the kid here; there’s room.” - -Judge Hollis leaned forward, both hands on his knees, and viewed the -child. “What did you do it for, Caleb?” he asked, in the midst of the -pause. - -“Heaven knows!” said Caleb, smiling, as he filled his pipe. “I fancy -because the poor little devil had no home, and I’ve known what it was -to want one.” - -The judge rubbed his chin. “I’m beat!” he said. - -The other two men looked on silently while Caleb lit his pipe. Sammy -picked up the judge’s cane from the floor and tried slowly and solemnly -to swallow the gold knob on the top of it. The judge sank slowly -back into his chair, the old worn leather chair. “And there’ll be a -duel to-morrow!” he remarked; then, looking at the child, he added -feelingly, “It beats the band!” - - - - -XV - - -THE time for the duel was an hour before sunrise the following day, and -to Caleb Trench, the Quaker, it was a gross absurdity. He had knocked -down Jacob Eaton as he would have knocked down any man who insulted -him, and he would have fought Jacob with his fists, but to shoot -him down in cold blood was another matter; not that Trench was over -merciful toward a man like Eaton, nor that he lacked the rancor, for an -insult lingers in the blood like slow poison. - -Eaton had selected two young men from the city, and the cartel had -been delivered with all the care and joy of an unusual entertainment. -To Aaron Todd, the farmer, it was a matter as ridiculous as it was to -Trench, though he could understand two men drawing their weapons on -each other in a moment of disagreement. But Peter Mahan loved it as -dearly as did Willis Broughton, a grand-nephew, by the way, of old -Judge Hollis. The place chosen was Little Neck Meadow, and the seconds -made their arrangements without any personal qualms. A fight, after -all, in that broad southwestern country was like the salt on a man’s -meat. - -Meanwhile the news that Caleb Trench had taken in Jean Bartlett’s -child dropped like a stone in a still pool, sending the ripples of -gossip eddying into wider circles until the edges of the puddle broke -in muddy waves, for no one had ever really known who was the father of -Jean’s boy. So, before Caleb rose at daybreak, to go to Little Neck -Meadow, his adoption of Sammy was as famous as his Cresset speech, and -as likely to bear unexpected fruits. - -Old Judge Hollis had remonstrated against both the child and the duel, -but not so warmly against the last as the first, and when he went away -there was a new look in his eyes. After all, what manner of man was -the shopkeeping lawyer of the Cross-Roads? The judge shook his head, -wondering; wondering, also, that he loved him, for he did. The power of -Caleb Trench lay deeper than the judge’s plummet, and, perhaps, it was -that which lent the sudden sweetness to his rare smile. - -But there was no smile on Caleb’s face when he went out, in the white -mist of the morning, to fight Jacob Eaton with pistols. He took the -woodland road on foot, alone, for he had sent his strangely assorted -seconds ahead of him. As he walked he was chiefly aware of the soft -beauty of the morning under the trees, and he caught the keen glint of -light on the slender stem of a silver birch that stood at the head of -the path, and he heard the chirp of a song-sparrow. A scarlet hooded -woodpecker was climbing the trunk of the tall hickory as he passed, and -a ground squirrel dashed across the trail. Caleb walked on, thinking -a little of the possibility of death, and a great deal of the gross -incongruity of his act with his life and his parentage. Through the -soft light he seemed to see his mother’s face, and the miracle of her -love touched him again. At heart he was simple, as all great natures -are, and tender; he could not have left Jean Bartlett’s child in the -woodbox. Yet he had no mind to show that side of his nature, for he was -shy in his feelings, and he had borne the hurt of solitude and neglect -long and in silence; silence is a habit, too, and bears fruit. - -He walked slowly, looking through the trees at the river which, now -before sunrise, was the color of lead, with a few ghostly lily-pads -floating at its edges. Beyond, he saw the high swamp grass that fringed -the edge of the delta; below lay Little Neck Meadow. The other thought -that haunted him, the picture of Diana in the old leather chair beside -his own hearthstone, with the kindling glow of the wood fire on her -face, he thrust resolutely aside. After all, he was nothing to Diana -but the petty tradesman of Eshcol, and now--if she knew--the intending -murderer of her kinsman. Yet it was Diana who walked before him along -the narrowing path. Thus do our emotions play us tricks to our undoing, -even in life’s most vital moments. - -But to the group waiting in the meadow, Caleb Trench appeared as -unmoved as stone. He was prompt to the moment and accepted their -arrangements without a question. - -Afterwards Aaron Todd told the story of the duel at the tavern. Eaton -and his seconds were in faultless attire and eager for the fray. At the -last moment Todd had sent for Dr. Cheyney; his early arrival meant an -explosion against dueling, and no one thought of waiting for him except -Peter Mahan. - -It ended in the two taking their places just as the whole eastern -sky ran into molten gold; it lacked but a few moments, therefore, of -sunrise, and there was still a light mist. - -Jacob Eaton, who was a noted shot, had been drinking the night before, -against the best efforts of his friends. Trench stood like a pillar of -stone. The word was given, and both men raised their weapons. Jacob -fired and missed, then Caleb very deliberately fired in the air. He had -never even glanced at his challenger. It was at this that Jacob Eaton -lost his temper and his wits and fired again, deliberately attempting -to shoot down his enemy. The bullet went through Caleb’s left arm, -missing his heart, and Willis Broughton threw himself upon Eaton and -disarmed him. - -When Dr. Cheyney came, Caleb had tied up his own arm with Todd’s help, -and was the calmest person there. Eaton was hustled off the field by -his seconds, and the story--told a hundred ways--was thrown into the -campaign. - -Old Dr. Cheyney drove Caleb home. “I reckon the fool killer wasn’t out -this morning,” he remarked dryly, as he set him down before the office -door, “or else he only winged you out of compassion. Caleb Trench, for -a man of common horse sense, you can be the biggest fool west of the -Mississippi. Adopted Sammy, I suppose?” he added, cocking an eyebrow -aggressively. - -Trench smiled. “Might as well,” he said. - -“Precisely,” said the doctor, “if you want anything more, let me know. -I’ve got one old rooster and a gobbler, that’s tough enough to be -Job’s. G’long, Henk!” - - - - -XVI - - -“I TELL you, David Royall, I can’t understand I how you ever let -that man come to your house,” Mrs. Eaton said; “a common man in the -first place, and now--why, there can’t be any doubt at all about Jean -Bartlett! Hasn’t he got the child?” - -Colonel Royall tilted his chair against the pillar of the veranda and -looked at her mildly. “That’s where the doubt comes in, Jinny,” he -remarked. - -“I can’t understand you!” she retorted tartly, dropping a stitch in her -crocheting and struggling blindly to pick it up. “I can’t in the least -understand your doubts--it’s obvious.” - -“Which?” said the colonel, “the doubt or Sammy?” - -“Both!” said she. - -“Well, Dr. Cheyney told me about it,” said the colonel, “and I’m not -sure that I believe all the other things I hear. Give him the benefit -of the doubt, Jinny.” - -“There isn’t any doubt,” declared Mrs. Eaton; “everybody says he’s the -father of that child.” - -Colonel Royall shook his head slowly. “It isn’t like the male critter, -Jinny,” he argued mildly, “to take in the child; he’d most likely ship -it.” - -“Some women do that!” said Mrs. Eaton sharply, shutting her thin lips. - -The colonel turned a terrible face upon her. “Jinny!” - -Mrs. Eaton reddened and her hands shook, but she went on without -regarding his anger. “At least, he’s the father of the Cresset -speech, you’ll admit that, and, if you please, here is this duel with -Jacob--with my son!” - -“I believe Jacob was the challenger,” said Colonel Royall. - -“He couldn’t stand being insulted by such trash!” said the indignant -mother. - -The colonel smiled broadly. “Come, Jinny, why did he go there?” - -“How should I know?” she retorted hotly; “some political reason, of -course, and Trench took advantage of it, as a common man would.” - -The colonel began to whittle a stick, man’s resource from time -immemorial. “Jinny,” he said, “you’re the greatest partisan on earth; -if you could lead a political party you’d cover your antagonist with -confusion. When I see Jacob beating his head against a wall I always -remember he’s your son.” - -Mrs. Eaton’s face relaxed a little. “Jacob takes after my family,” she -admitted, smiling; “he’s like them in looks and he has all their charm.” - -“Why don’t you say yours, Jinny?” asked the colonel, twinkling. - -“I don’t think you half appreciate that,” she replied, with a touch of -coquetry; “if you did, you wouldn’t quarrel with me about Caleb Trench.” - -“Do I?” said the colonel. - -She let her crochet work drop in her lap and looked at him attentively. -“Do you mean to say you agree with me?” she demanded. - -The colonel laughed. “I’m not a violent man, Jinny; since the war I’ve -been a man of peace. I’m not sure that I’ve got all the faith I ought -to have in these young iconoclasts.” - -“Faith in that man!” Mrs. Eaton threw up her hands. “If you had, David, -I wouldn’t have any in you!” - -“Your conversation has rather led me to assume that you had lost faith -in my opinions,” he retorted, amused. - -“Well, sometimes, Cousin David, I think you’re too willing to have -the wool combed over your eyes!” she said severely; “you’re so -broad-minded, I suppose, that you don’t think enough of the natural -prejudices of our own class.” - -“Well, Jinny,” said the colonel dryly, “I’m a little tired of our -class.” - -Mrs. Eaton raised her head to reply with indignation, but utterance was -suspended by Diana’s approach. Her appearance always had the effect of -breaking off a conversation in the middle. She was still a vision in -pink muslin, with a wide straw hat trimmed with roses. She swept out, -fresh and sweet and buoyant. - -“What are you two quarreling about?” she asked. “I can’t leave you -alone together any more; you fight like game cocks. Of course it’s -politics or social customs; you haven’t got to religion yet, thank -heaven! When you do I shall have to send for the bishop.” - -“It’s about that wretched man,” said Mrs. Eaton fretfully. “I told -David that he ought not to be received here!” - -“Well,” said the colonel thoughtfully, “I’m not sure he could be after -this fight with Jacob; blood’s thicker than water. But do you know, -Jinny, I don’t believe he’ll come?” - -“Come!” cried Mrs. Eaton; “dear me, do you imagine that a poor creature -like that would lose the chance?” - -Colonel Royall smiled whimsically. “Jinny,” said he, “your grandfather -made his money selling molasses in New Orleans.” - -She gazed at him coldly. “It was wholesale,” she said, with withering -contempt. - -The colonel shook with silent laughter. - -All this time Diana had not opened her lips; she stepped down from the -piazza into the grass now and unfurled her parasol. - -“I hope you’re not going to make my unfortunate grandfather a reason -for inviting Caleb Trench here,” said Mrs. Eaton bitingly, her eyes -fixed on the colonel’s flushed face. - -“Cousin Jinny, he won’t come,” said Diana suddenly. - -Both her father and Mrs. Eaton looked at her astonished. “How do you -know?” the latter asked unconvinced. - -“I asked him,” said Diana, and blushed. - -Mrs. Eaton was amazed. “You asked that man--that person--and he refused -your invitation?” - -“Yes,” replied Diana, scarlet now. - -Her elderly cousin dropped her hands helplessly in her lap. “Diana -Royall, I’m ashamed of you!” - -“I was ashamed of myself,” said Diana. - -The colonel rubbed the back of his head thoughtfully. “I reckon he had -a reason, Di,” he said at last. - -“I have a reason for not asking him again,” replied his daughter. - -“Thank heaven!” ejaculated Mrs. Eaton devoutly. - -The girl turned away and walked slowly across the lawn. Two of the -setters followed her half-way, but, unencouraged, fell back lazily -to lie in the cool grass. As she went the murmur of indignant voices -died away, and she passed into the cool shadow of the horse-chestnuts. -Her face still burned with the blush of vexation that Mrs. Eaton had -summoned, and her heart beat a little faster at the thought that she -had never asked any man to accept their hospitality before in vain. -It was preposterous and rude, yet, in her heart, she respected Caleb -Trench for refusing it. Even at Kitty Broughton’s ball he had been -accepted only on tolerance and because of Judge Hollis. She had seen -him slighted, and then the prejudice had been against his poor little -shop at the village Cross-Roads and his black Republicanism, in a -section that was rankly Democratic. Now they had a greater cause, -the Cresset speech, the attacks upon Eaton, the duel at Little Neck -Meadow--of which no one could get the truth, for no one knew socially -Peter Mahan or Aaron Todd--and last of all the scandal of the child. -The story of poor Jean Bartlett had passed from lip to lip now that -Sammy played on the door-step of the most unique figure in local -politics. - -Gossips had promptly decided that Sammy was Caleb’s child, and Jean’s -had been a peculiarly sad case. The story lost nothing in transmission, -and Diana tried not to recall details as she walked. Why should she? -The man was nothing to her! Her father did not believe all he heard, -and neither did she, but she was more tormented than if she had -believed the worst. Certainty carries healing in its wings; doubt is -more cruel than a whip of scorpions. She had tried to understand the -man and she could not; one thing contradicted another, but he was -strong, his figure loomed above the others, and the storm was gathering -about it, as the clouds sweep around the loftiest peak. - -The hottest contest for years was brewing in the conventions, and it -was known--and well-known--that Caleb Trench had an immense influence -with the largest element of the party. He was convinced that Aylett’s -government was weak and permeated with corruption, and he was -making his conviction public, with a force and certainty that were -bewildering far older politicians. In fact, the man was no politician -at all; he was a born reformer, and he was making himself felt. - -Diana, too, had felt his force and resented it. She resented also his -duel with her cousin. The cheap sensationalism of a duel irritated her, -and she did not place the whole blame upon Jacob, for she knew--Aunt -Charity had spread it--that Caleb had knocked Jacob down. She was -ashamed that she almost tingled with joy at the thought of him towering -in wrath over Jacob, for she could divine the insulting tone that must -have provoked him beyond endurance. She could divine it, but she would -not accept it. Jacob was her own relation, and Jacob had been knocked -down. It was maddening from that point of view, and Diana felt that -nothing but blood could have atoned to her for being laid in the dust. -Yet she thrilled at the thought that Caleb Trench had dealt the blow, -that the son of the Philadelphia Quaker was a man. Thus contradictory -is the heart of woman! - -Meanwhile, she had left the confines of Broad Acres and was walking -slowly up the trail to Angel Pass. Not far away was the spot where -she had stood and talked with Caleb in the sweet twilight. Below her, -as the path climbed, was the long slope of rolling meadows which lay -between this spot and Paradise Ridge. Around her the tree trunks stood -in serried ranks, and here and there, where the wild grapevines hung -in long festoons, she noticed the tight clusters of green grapes. She -wished devoutly that she could think of something beside the slightly -awkward figure, the sharp lines of the clean-cut face, as it had looked -in the twilight. Since then they had met more than once, but it was -that picture of him which haunted her, and she was scarcely startled -when she turned the corner by the pines and saw him ahead of her with -Shot. - -He heard her footstep, and when she would have turned to avoid him, he -prevented it by facing about and greeting her. Both were conscious of -constraint. Jacob Eaton’s bullet had not broken the bone of his arm, -but the arm was still bandaged under the sleeve and stiff, and the fact -of the duel seemed to materialize between them. The other thought, -the thought of Jean Bartlett and her child, sprang up unbidden in her -heart, and she was woman enough to wince. A torrent of feeling swept -through her like a whirlpool, and she would not have told what it was, -or whence it came. Her face crimsoned, and unconsciously she drew back. -Something in his face, in the compelling light in his eyes, made her -catch her breath. On his side, he saw only reluctance and repulsion, -and mistook it for rebuke. He remembered that report said she was to -marry Jacob Eaton, and he had knocked Jacob Eaton down. He would have -been less than human had he not experienced then one instant of unholy -joy to think that he had done it. Neither spoke for a full moment, then -he did ceremoniously. - -“Pardon me,” he said, “I ought not to intrude upon you, Miss Royall. I -see that I am doubly unfortunate, both unexpected and unwelcome.” - -Diana struggled with herself. “Unexpected, certainly,” she said, -conscious that it was a falsehood, for had he not haunted her? “but -unwelcome--why? This is a public place, Mr. Trench.” - -He smiled bitterly. “Fairly answered,” he said; “you can be cruel, Miss -Royall. I am aware that to you--I merely cumber the earth.” - -“I believe you refused an invitation to come to our house,” she -retorted. - -He swung around in the path, facing her fully, and she felt his -determination, with almost a thrill of pride in him. - -“Miss Royall--I have no right to say a word,” he said, “but do you -think--for one instant--that if you gave that invitation sincerely I -would refuse it? You know I would not. I would come with all my heart. -But--because I know how absurd it is, because I know how you feel, I -will not. I am too proud to be your unwelcome guest. Yet I am not too -proud to speak to-night. God knows I wish I could kill it in my heart, -but I will say it. I love you.” - -Diana stretched her hand out involuntarily and rested it against the -slender stem of a young pine; she clung to it to feel reality, for the -world seemed to be turning around. She never opened her lips and she -dared not look at him; she had met that light in his eyes once and -dared not raise hers. If she had! But she did not--and he went on. - -“It is madness, I know it,” he said bitterly, “and if I could strangle -it--as a living thing--I would, but I cannot. I love you and have loved -you from the first. It would be mockery indeed to accept your chary -invitations. I suppose you think that it is an insult for me to speak -to you, but”--he smiled bitterly--“to myself I should seem a little -less than a man if I did not. However, I beg your pardon, if it seems -an affront.” - -Diana tried twice to speak before she could utter a word. Then she -seemed to hear her own voice quite calm. “I do not consider it so. I--I -am sorry.” - -He turned away. “Thank you,” he said abruptly, “I would like to be, at -least, your friend.” He added this with a reluctance that told of a -bitter struggle with his own pride. - -Diana held out her hand with a gesture as sweet as it was involuntary. -“You are,” she said, quite simply. “Mr. Trench, I--I take it as an -honor.” - -He held her hand, looking at her with an amazement that made her blush -deeply. She felt her emotion stifling her, tears were rushing to her -eyes. How dreadful it was for him to force her into this position. They -were as widely sundered as the poles, and yet she no sooner met his -eyes than she wavered and began to yield; she snatched her hand away. - -“Thank you a thousand times for saying that!” he murmured. - -She fled; she was half-way up the path; the sunshine and the breeze -swept down from Angel Pass. She was conscious of him still standing -there and turned and looked back. “Good-bye!” she called softly over -her shoulder, and was gone. - - - - -XVII - - -IT was in the heat of midsummer that Judge Hollis walked into Caleb’s -inner office. - -“Caleb,” he said, “I’m hanged if I haven’t changed the color of my coat -and come to your opinion. After this I’m for Yarnall.” - -Caleb smiled, leaning back wearily in his chair and glancing -unconsciously at Sammy, the innocent cause of much scandal in Eshcol, -who lay asleep beside Shot on the floor, his chubby arms around the -dog’s neck. - -The smoke of the two great conventions was still in the air. Two -weeks before the Republicans had peacefully and hopelessly nominated -Peter Mahan for Governor, and the Democrats, after a deadlock and a -disgraceful collapse of the opposition, had nominated Aylett. Every -politician in the State knew that it had cost the Eaton faction nearly -two hundred thousand dollars. There had been a storm of indignation, -and Yarnall had come back and put his case in the hands of the -Republican lawyer, Caleb Trench! The indignation and chagrin of the -older Democratic lawyers added nothing to the beauty of the situation, -but Caleb had grasped it silently and was dealing with it. In ten days -he had forced the Grand Jury to indict both Aylett and Eaton, along -with half a dozen of their lieutenants, and the hour of the great trial -was approaching. Feeling ran so high that there were threats on both -sides, and it was a common saying that men went armed. - -The judge banged his broad-brimmed Panama down on the table. “Caleb,” -he said grimly, “how much more packing is there to come out of this?” - -This time Trench laughed. “Not a great deal, Judge,” he replied easily, -“I’ve got most of it out. We’re going to prove both our cases against -Aylett and Eaton. Aylett’s used more money, but Eaton has intimidated. -The convention was packed. They threw in Eaton as a third candidate -to split Yarnall’s strength; they knew all the investors in his -get-rich-quick schemes would follow him, and they’d been warned to do -it. I’ve got the evidence. Of course, when Yarnall got them deadlocked, -even with that break in his strength, Eaton withdrew and, throwing all -his votes suddenly to Aylett, nominated him on the fifth ballot.” - -The judge scowled at him from under his heavy brows. “What’s this about -the Todd test case?” he growled. - -“Aaron Todd got hold of one of the delegates and found out that he’d -been offered a bribe by Eaton. Todd suggested to him to take it and get -the matter witnessed; it was done and will be used in court.” - -“Damned shabby!” said the judge. - -Caleb smiled. “I call it a harder name, Judge,” he said simply. “I -shan’t use it, but, after all, I’m only the junior counsel.” - -The old man looked at him over his spectacles. “I understand that -Yarnall has picked you out as a kind of red flag to the bull, and means -to wave you in Eaton’s face.” - -“So he does, I fancy,” said Trench, “but we’re going to call Judge -Hollis.” - -The judge stared; a dull red crept up to his hair. He had felt the -slight when Caleb was chosen, and he suspected that the younger man -knew it. Yet the temptation to be in the thick of the fray was like the -taste of fine wine in the mouth of the thirsty. “By gum, sir,” he said, -“I don’t believe I’ll do it.” - -“Yes, you will,” said Trench decisively, “we need you. Besides, Mr. -Yarnall has written a formal request to you: we want influential men on -our side. We’ve got a clear case, but we want the people to understand -that we’re not demagogues. And”--Trench suddenly used all his -persuasive powers, which were great--“Judge, I lack your experience.” - -It was a touch of modesty that went to the judge’s heart. He took -Diana’s chair--Caleb always called it that in his heart--and they fell -to discussing the situation and the most salient points in the case, -for it had divided the State and it would affect the election of the -United States Senator later. - -Meanwhile, Sammy slept, with his yellow curls mingling with Shot’s -yellow hair; they were boon companions and no one troubled the child. -Once or twice Zeb Bartlett had come, bent on making trouble, but he -had been sent away. Sammy found his new home wholly desirable; Aunt -Charity was even growing fond of him, and Dr. Cheyney brought him toys. -But between Caleb and himself there was a complete understanding; -the child followed him about as patiently as did Shot, and as -unquestioningly. In some mysterious way he had grasped the meaning of -his adoption, and he understood the silent, preoccupied man as well -as the dog did. With both it was an instinct that recognized kindness -and protection. Left to amuse himself from babyhood, Sammy made little -trouble. He would lie on his stomach by the hour working a toy train of -cars to and fro in one spot, and he had destroyed only one brief which -had been left within his reach. - -Judge Hollis talked for over an hour, going over the case which was -to come up before Judge Ladd in ten days. He saw that Trench had -prepared every inch of it, and that he was chiefly wanted as a notable -figurehead, yet he was nothing loath to be the figurehead. When he -had fully grasped the evidence, and saw before him one of the biggest -cases on record in the State courts, he threw back his head like an old -war-horse snuffing the battle afar. - -“By the Lord Harry!” he said, slapping his knee, “we’ll whip them -to kingdom come, Caleb, and shear the sheep at that!” Then his eye -suddenly lighted on the sleeping child, and his shaggy brows dropped; -he stooped over and looked at him, thrusting out his underlip. -“Caleb,” he said, “send that brat to St. Vincent’s.” - -Caleb, who was making notes, looked up. “Why?” he asked dryly. - -The judge growled. “You’re a tarnation fool!” he replied. “I’m not -asking whose child he is! What I say is--send him packing.” - -Caleb turned and glanced at the child, and the judge, watching him, was -astonished at the softening of his face. “Poor little devil,” he said -quietly, “I fancy he’ll stay as long as I do, Judge Hollis. I’ve had no -home, I’ve been in desperate straits, now I’ve got this roof. That dog -was a stray, so is the child--they’re welcome.” - -The judge was silent for a long while. Then he drew a pattern on the -floor with his cane. “Caleb,” he said, more kindly, “that kid has -raised Cain for you. Jinny Eaton is blowing the news to the four -winds of heaven, and everybody believes it. You might as well hang an -albatross around your neck. If you’re not the child’s father--by gum, -sir, you might as well be!” - -Caleb set his teeth hard, and the light came into his eyes,--the light -that some people dreaded. “Judge,” he said sternly, “I’m accountable -to no man, neither am I a coward. Mrs. Eaton may say what she pleases; -being a woman, she is beyond my reach.” - -The judge got up and drove his hat down hard on his head with his -favorite gesture, as though he put the lid on to suppress the -impending explosion. “By gum!” he said, and walked out. - -That evening Caleb found Sammy asleep in the old leather armchair with -his yellow head on the arm, and he snatched him out of it, in spite of -Sammy’s vigorous protests, and put him to bed. He never thought that -Diana’s arms might have held the child as pitifully, for Diana had a -noble heart. - -Then followed the greatest case of disputed nomination ever contested -west of the Mississippi. The old court-house was packed to its limit, -and there were one or two hardy spirits who climbed the tree outside -and listened through the open windows. Feeling ran so high when Aaron -Todd testified that there was a column of militia in Townhouse Square. -It was hot; they were cutting oats in the fields and the rye was nearly -ripe, while all the grapes were coloring like new wine. - -Aylett and Eaton fought step by step, inch by inch, and the court sat -from early morning until candle-light, yet it was three weeks before it -went to the jury, and they had been twenty-nine days getting that jury! - -Two brilliant lawyers from the East spoke for the defense, and Judge -Hollis opened for the plaintiff. It was afternoon; the judge had made -an able if somewhat grandiloquent plea, and the court-house was so -thronged that men stood on the window-sills, shutting out the view -from the trees. Caleb Trench closed the case for Yarnall, and men, -remembering his Cresset speech, had refused to leave the court-room -for dinner, fearful of losing their seats--or their standing room. -Eaton alone left abruptly when he began to speak. - -Trench had a peculiarly rich voice, low-toned but singularly clear; he -used no gestures, and his attitudes were always easy and unembarrassed -when he forgot himself in his work. His personality counted, but it was -neither that nor his eloquence which held the court-room spellbound; -it was the force of his logic, the power to get down to the root of -things, to tear away all illusions and show them the machine as it had -existed for nearly twenty years. Incidentally, as it seemed to some, -he showed them, beyond all doubt, the fraud and intimidation that had -renominated Governor Aylett. - -The lights were burning in the court-room and outside in the square -when Judge Ladd charged the jury. Not a man left his place as the -jurors filed out, except Trench. He went to send a message to Aunt -Charity about his two waifs at home, who must not go supperless. He -was still out, and Judge Hollis sent for him hastily when the jury -came back in twenty minutes. They brought in a verdict of guilty -as indicted; the illegal use of money, corruption in office, and -intimidation were the charges against Aylett and Eaton and ten others. - -At half-past nine that night the militia had to charge in the -court-house square to disperse the crowd. - - - - -XVIII - - -COLONEL ROYALL and Diana drove into town in the morning; it was a long -drive from Eshcol, and the road led past Paradise Ridge. Diana, from -her side of the carriage, noticed the little cabin where Jean Bartlett -had died, and saw the shambling figure of Zeb leaning against the -door-post. Zeb was talking to a well-dressed man whose back was toward -her. A low-growing horse-chestnut partly hid his figure, but afterwards -she remembered a curious familiarity about it. At the time her heart -was bitter. She had heard nothing but Mrs. Eaton’s version of the -scandal of Paradise Ridge for a month, and once, when she drove past -the Cross-Roads, she had seen Sammy’s chubby figure sprawling under the -trees beside Caleb Trench’s office. - -If he were the child’s father, he had certainly taken up the burden -squarely. Diana pushed all thought of it out of her mind by main -force, yet two hours later it would come back. She remembered, too, -that meeting on the trail, and her heart quaked. In some mysterious, -unfathomable way the man loomed up before her and mastered her will; -she could not cast him out, and she stormed against him and against -herself. Outwardly she was listening to Colonel Royall. At heart, too, -she was deeply concerned about her father; the colonel was failing, he -had been failing ever since spring set in. All her life Diana had felt -that, in spite of their devotion to each other, there was a door shut -between them, she had never had his full confidence. Yet, she could not -tell how she knew this, what delicate intuition revealed the fact of -his reticence. She had twice asked Dr. Cheyney what secret trouble her -father had, and the old man had looked guilty, even when he denied all -knowledge. Diana felt the presence of grief, and she had assumed that -it was especially poignant at the season when he kept the anniversary -of his wife’s death. Yet, lately, she wondered that he had never taken -her to her mother’s grave. Mrs. Royall had died when Diana was three -years old, and was buried in Virginia. More than this Diana had never -known, but she did know that her room at Broad Acres had been locked -the day of her death and that no one ever went there except her father -and the old negro woman who kept it spotless and “just as Miss Letty -left it.” - -Neither Colonel Royall nor old Judy ever vouchsafed any explanation -of this room, its quaintly beautiful furniture and the apparently -unchanging spotlessness of the muslin curtains and the white valance -of the mahogany four-poster. Once, when she was a child, Diana had -crept in there and hidden under the bed, but hearing the key turn in -the lock when old Judy left the room, her small heart had quaked -with fear and she had remained crouching in a corner, still under the -bed, not daring to look out lest she should indeed see a beautiful -and ghostly lady seated at the polished toilet-table, or hear her -step upon the floor. She stayed there three hours, then terror and -loneliness prevailed and she fancied she did hear something; it was, -perhaps, the rustle of wings, for she had been told that angels had -wings, and if her mamma were dead she was, of course, an angel. The -rustle, therefore, of imaginary wings was more than Diana could bear, -and she lifted up her voice and wept. They had been searching the house -for her, and it was her father who drew her out from under the bed -and carried her, weeping, to the nursery. Then he spoke briefly but -terribly to the mammy in charge, and Diana never crept under the white -valance again. - -She remembered that scene to-day as the carriage drove on under the -tall shade trees, and she remembered that Colonel Royall had never -looked so ill at this time of the year since the time when he was -stricken with fever in midsummer, when she was barely fifteen. Then he -had been out of his head for three days and she had heard him call some -one “Letty!” and then cry out: “God forgive me--there is the child!” He -had been eighteen months recovering, and she saw presages of illness -in his face; his eyes were resting sadly and absently, too, on the -familiar landscape. Diana winced, again conscious of the shut door. It -is hard to wait on at the threshold of the heart we love. - -They were crossing the bridge when a long silence was broken. Below -them some negroes were chanting in a flatboat, and their voices were -beautiful. - - “Away down South in de fields of cotton, - Cinnamon seed and sandy bottom, - Look away, look away, - Look away, look away!” - -“Pa,” said Diana suddenly, “do you believe in the verdict?” - -The colonel took off his hat and pushed back his thick white hair. “I -reckon I’ve got to, Di,” he replied reluctantly. - -“Then you think Jacob is a bully and a fraud,” said Diana, with the -unsparing frankness of youth. - -“Heaven forbid!” said the colonel gently. - -“I thought you wanted me to marry him,” she pursued, victory in her eye. - -The colonel reddened. “Diana,” he said, “I don’t want you to marry -anybody.” - -She smiled. “Thank you,” she said; “after all, the verdict has done -some good in this State, Colonel Royall.” - -They were at the court-house door now, and there was a crowd in the -square. The colonel got down and helped out Diana, and they walked into -the arched entrance of the basement together. “I didn’t want to leave -you out there to be stared at by that mob,” said the colonel; “people -seem to know us at a glance.” - -Diana laughed softly. “Of course no one would remember you,” she said -maliciously; “they’re looking at my new hat.” - -“I reckon they are,” said her father dryly; “we’ll have to find a place -to hide it in.” - -As he spoke they passed the last doorkeeper, and walked down the -stone-paved corridor toward the elevator. It was absolutely still. On -the left hand was a small room with one large window looking out into -the court where a tree of heaven was growing. It had sprung from a seed -and no one had cut it down. The window was barred, but the cool air -of the court came in, for the sash was open. It was a room that they -called “the cage,” because prisoners waited there to be summoned to the -court-room to hear the verdict, but Colonel Royall did not know this. -There were a narrow lounge in it, two chairs and a table. - -“Wait here,” he said to Diana, “I shan’t be ten minutes. I want to see -Judge Ladd, and I know where he is up-stairs. Court has adjourned for -luncheon, and you won’t be disturbed.” - -Diana went in obediently and sat down in the chair by the window. She -could see nothing but the court enclosed on four sides by the old brick -building, and shaded in the centre by the slender tree of heaven. There -was no possible view of the street from this room. Opposite the door -was the blank wall of the hall; on the other side of that wall were -the rooms of the Registrar of Wills and the Probate Court. Outside the -door a spiral iron staircase ascended to the offices of the State’s -attorney; around the corner was the elevator and to this Colonel Royall -went. - -Diana leaned back in her chair and surveyed the chill little room; -on the walls were written various reflections of waiting prisoners. -None were as eloquent as Sir Walter Raleigh’s message to the world, -but several meant the same thing in less heroic English. The colonel -had been gone ten minutes, and his daughter was watching the branches -of the tree as they stirred slightly, as if touched by some tremulous -breath, for no wind could reach them here. - -It was then that she heard a quick step in the corridor and knew -it intuitively. She was not surprised when Caleb Trench stopped -involuntarily at the door. They had scarcely met in two months, but the -color rushed into her face; she seemed to see him again in the spring -woods, though now the hedgerows were showing goldenrod. Involuntarily, -too, she rose and they stood facing each other. She tried to speak -naturally, but nothing but a platitude came to her lips. - -“I congratulate you,” she said foolishly, “on your victory.” - -“Miss Royall, I am sorry that everything I do seems like a personal -attack upon your people,” he replied at once, and he had never appeared -to better advantage; “like the spiteful revenge of a foolish duellist, -a sensational politician. Will you do me the justice to believe that my -position is painful?” - -Diana looked at him and hated herself because her breath came so short; -was she afraid of him? Perish the thought! “I always try to be just,” -she began with dignity, and then finished lamely, “of course we are a -prejudiced people at Eshcol.” - -“You are like people everywhere,” he replied; “we all have our -prejudices. I wish mine were less. There is one thing I would like to -say to you, Miss Royall--” He stopped abruptly, and raised his head. -Their eyes met, and Diana knew that he was thinking of Jean Bartlett; -she turned crimson. - -There was a long silence. - -“I shall not say it,” he said, and his strong face saddened. What right -had he to thrust his confidence upon her? “You are waiting for your -father?” he added; “may I not escort you to another room? This--is -not suitable.” He wanted to add that he was amazed at the colonel -for leaving her there; he did not yet fully understand the old man’s -simplicity. - -“I prefer to stay here,” Diana replied, a little coldly; “my father -knows I am here.” - -It was Caleb’s turn to color. “I beg your pardon.” He stopped again, -and then turned and looked out of the window. “I fear I have lost even -your friendship now,” he said bitterly. - -She did not reply at once; she was trying to discipline herself, and in -the pause both heard the great clock in the tower strike one. - -“On the contrary, I thank you for offering to find me a pleasanter -place to wait in,” Diana said, with an effort at lightness. “It is a -little dreary, but I’m sure my father must be coming and--” - -She stopped with a little cry of surprise, for there was suddenly the -sharp sound of a pistol shot, followed instantly by a second. The -reports came from the other side of the hall, and were followed by a -tumult in the street. - -“What can it be?” she cried, in sudden terror for her father. - -Caleb Trench swung around from the window with an awakening of every -sense that made him seem a tremendous vital force. He divined a -tragedy. Afterwards the girl remembered his face and was amazed at the -fact that she had obeyed him like a child. - -“Wait here!” he exclaimed, “your father is safe. I will see what it is. -On no account leave this room now--promise me!” - -She faltered. “I promise,” she said, and he was gone. - -It seemed five minutes; it was in reality only ten seconds since the -shots were fired. Meanwhile, there was a tumult without, the shouting -of men and the rush of many feet. Diana stood still, trembling, her -hands clasped tightly together. Even afar off the voice of the mob is a -fearsome thing. - - - - -XIX - - -MEANWHILE Colonel Royall and Judge Ladd had been in consultation in the -judge’s private office, behind the court-room. - -Governor Aylett and Jacob Eaton had definitely decided to appeal the -case, and a slight discrepancy in the stenographer’s notes had made -it necessary for Colonel Royall to review a part of his testimony. -Having disposed of these technicalities, the colonel found it difficult -to depart. He and Judge Ladd had been boys together; they met -infrequently, and the present situation was interesting. - -The colonel stood with his thumbs inserted in the armholes of his -marseilles waistcoat, his hat on the back of his head, and a placid -smile on his lips. The judge sat at his table, smoking a huge cigar -and meditating. In his heart he rather resented the rapid rise of the -unknown young lawyer; he had worked his own way up inch by inch, and he -had no confidence in meteoric performances, and said so. - -“Well,” said the colonel slowly, “I reckon I’d better not say anything, -Tommy, I’m on the wrong side of the fence; I’m Jacob’s cousin, though I -feel like his grandfather.” - -The judge knocked the ashes from his cigar and said nothing. It was not -in his province to discuss the defendant just then. - -“I’d give something handsome,” the colonel continued, “to know how in -mischief Trench got such a hold on the backwoodsmen. Todd follows him -about like a lapdog, too, yet he doesn’t hesitate to condemn Todd’s -methods of getting evidence.” - -The judge grunted. “Heard about personal magnetism, haven’t you?” he -asked tartly; “that’s what he’s got. I sat up there on the bench and -listened when he began to address the jury. I’ve heard hundreds do it; -I know the ropes. Well, sir, he took me in; I thought he was going to -fall flat. He began as cool and slow and prosy as the worst old drone -we’ve got; then he went on. By George, David, I was spellbound. I clean -forgot where I was; I sat and gaped like a ninny! He cut right through -their evidence; he knocked their witnesses out one by one; he tore -their logic to pieces, and then he closed. There wasn’t a shred of ’em -left. I charged the jury? Yes, hang it! But I knew what the verdict -would be, so did every man-jack in the court-room.” - -“Remarkable!” exclaimed the colonel. “I admit it, Tommy; I was there.” - -“Then why the devil didn’t you say so?” snapped the judge. - -“Thought you saw me; I was in the front row,” replied the colonel, with -a broad smile. - -“See you?” retorted the judge fiercely, “see you? I didn’t see a -damned thing but that young shyster, and before he got through I could -have hugged him, yes, sir, hugged him for making that speech.” - -The colonel shook with laughter. “Tommy,” he began. - -But just then there were two sharp reports of a pistol near at hand, -followed by a tumult in the street below. Both men hurried to the -window, but the jutting wing of the court-room hid the center of -interest, and all they could see was the crowd of human beings huddled -and packed in the narrow entrance of the alley that led to the Criminal -Court-room. There were confused cries and shoutings, and almost -immediately the gong of the emergency ambulance. - -“Some one’s been shot,” said Judge Ladd coolly; then he turned from the -window and halted with his finger on the bell. - -The door from the court-room had opened abruptly and Judge Hollis came -in. Both Ladd and Colonel Royall faced him in some anxiety; there was -an electric current of excitement in the air. - -“Yarnall has been shot dead,” he said briefly. - -“My God!” exclaimed Judge Ladd. - -Colonel Royall said nothing, but turned white. - -“Have they got the assassin?” the judge demanded, recovering his -self-control. - -“No,” replied Judge Hollis, a singular expression on his face. “No, the -shot was fired from the window of the court-room; the room was empty, -everybody at dinner, and the windows open; the pistol is on the floor, -two chambers empty. Only one man was seen in the window, a negro, and -he has escaped.” - -“A negro?” the judge’s brows came down, “no, no!” Then he stopped -abruptly, and added, after a moment, “Was he recognized?” - -“They say it was Juniper,” said Judge Hollis stolidly. - -“Wild nonsense!” exclaimed Colonel Royall. - -Hollis nodded. His hat was planted firmly on his head and he stood like -a rock. “Nevertheless, there’s wild talk of lynching. Ladd, I think -we’d better get the lieutenant-governor to call out the militia.” - -The storm in the street below rose and fell, like a hurricane catching -its breath. Colonel Royall looked out of the window; the crowd in the -alley had overflowed into the square, and swollen there to overflow -again in living rivulets into every side street. He looked down on a -living seething mass of human beings. The sunlight was vivid white; the -heat seemed to palpitate in the square; low guttural cries came up. The -names of Yarnall and Eaton caught his ear. He remembered suddenly the -significance of Judge Hollis’ glance at him, and he did not need to -remember the blood feud. Suddenly he saw the crowd give way a little -before a file of mounted police, but it closed again sullenly, gathered -the little group of officers into its bosom and waited. - -The old man had seen many a fierce fight, he had a scar that he had -received at the Battle of the Wilderness, he had a gunshot wound at -Gettysburg, but he felt that here was the grimmest of all revelations, -the slipping of the leash, the wild thing escaping from its cage, the -mob! The low fierce hum of anger came up and filled their ears, he -heard the voices behind him, the rushing feet of incoming messengers, -the news of the lieutenant-governor’s call for the militia. Then he -suddenly remembered Diana, and plunged abruptly down-stairs. - -She had been waiting all this while alone in the lower room, yet, -before the colonel got there, Caleb Trench came back. He had just told -her what had happened when her father appeared. - -“My dear child,” said the colonel, “I clean forgot you!” - -Diana was very pale, but she smiled. “I know it,” she said, glancing -at Caleb. “Once father got excited at the races at Lexington and when -some one asked him his name, he couldn’t remember it. He paid a darkey -a quarter to go and ask Judge Hollis who he was! Colonel Royall, I must -go home.” - -“So you must,” agreed the colonel, “but, my dear, the crowd is--er--is -rather noisy.” - -“It’s a riot, isn’t it?” asked Diana, listening. - -They heard, even then, the voice of it shake the still hot air. Then, -quite suddenly, a bugle sounded sweetly, clearly. - -“The militia,” said the colonel, in a tone of relief. “I reckon we can -go home now.” - -“You can go by the back way,” said Caleb quietly; “stay here a moment -and I’ll see that some one gets your carriage through the inner gate. -The troops will drive the mob out of the square.” - -He had started to leave the room when Colonel Royall spoke. “Is--is -Yarnall really quite dead?” - -“Killed instantly,” said Caleb, and went out. - -Diana covered her face with her hands; she had been braving it out -before him. “Oh, pa!” she cried, “how dreadful! I was almost frightened -to death and--and I always thought I was brave.” - -“You are,” said the colonel fondly; “I was a brute to forget -you--but--well, Diana, it was tremendously shocking.” - -Diana’s face grew whiter. “Pa,” she said suddenly, “where--where is -Jacob?” - -The colonel understood. “God knows!” he said, “but, Diana, he wasn’t in -the court-room!” - -“Oh, thank God!” she said. - -It was then that Caleb came back, and she noticed how pale he looked -and how worn, for the long weeks of preparation for the trial and the -final ordeal had worn him to the bone. “The carriage is waiting,” he -said simply, and made a movement, slight but definite, toward Diana. -But she had taken her father’s arm. The colonel thanked the younger man -heartily, yet his manner did not exactly convey an invitation. Caleb -stood aside, therefore, to let them pass. At the door, Diana stopped -her father with a slight pressure on his arm, and held out her hand. - -“Good-bye,” she said quietly, “and thank you.” - -Caleb watched them disappear down the corridor to the rear entrance -where two policemen were on guard. Then he went out, bareheaded, on the -front steps and glanced over the heads of the troopers sitting like -statues on their horses in front of the court-house. Yarnall’s body -had been carried in on a stretcher, and a detachment of the governor’s -guard filled the main entrance. Beyond the long files of soldiers the -streets were packed with men and women and even children. No one was -speaking now, no sounds were heard; there was, instead, a fearful -pause, a silence that seemed to Trench more dreadful than tumult. -He stood an instant looking at the scene, strangely touched by it, -strangely moved, too, at the thought of the strong man who had been -laid low and whose life was snapped at one flash, one single missile. -Death stood there in the open court. - -Then some one cried out shrilly that there was Caleb Trench, the -counsel for Yarnall, the dead man’s victorious defender, and at the cry -a cheer went up, deep-throated, fierce, a signal for riot. The silence -was gone; the crowd broke, rushed forward, hurled itself against the -line of fixed bayonets, crying for the assassin. - -A bugle sounded again. There was a long wavering flash of steel, as the -troopers charged amid cries and threats and flying missiles. A moment -of pandemonium and again the masses fell away and the cordon of steel -closed in about the square. - -At the first sound of his name Caleb Trench had gone back into the -court-house. On the main staircase he saw Governor Aylett, Jacob Eaton -and a group of lawyers and officers of the militia. He passed them -silently and went up-stairs. Outside the court-room door was a guard of -police. The door of Judge Ladd’s inner office was open and he saw that -it was crowded with attorneys and officials. Judge Hollis came out and -laid his hand on Caleb’s shoulder. - -“My boy,” he said, “this is the worst day’s work that has ever been -done here, and they want to lay it on a poor nigger.” - -“I know,” replied Caleb, “he was the only one seen at the window.” - -“Yes,” assented Judge Hollis, “but, by the Lord Harry, I’d give -something handsome to know--who was behind Juniper!” - - - - -XX - - -IT was almost morning when Caleb Trench reached home, and the low -building where he had his office--he had closed his shop a month -before--was dark and cheerless. - -The news of the shooting of Yarnall, and the subsequent rioting, had -traveled and multiplied like a reed blown upon the winds of heaven. -Aunt Charity had heard it and forgotten her charge. Shot was on guard -before the dead ashes in the kitchen stove, and Sammy lay asleep in -his little bed in the adjoining room. Fortunately the child seemed to -have slept through the hours that had elapsed since the old woman’s -departure. Caleb found some cold supper set out for him, in a cheerless -fashion, and shared it with Shot, strangely beset, all the while, with -the thought of the charm and comfort of Broad Acres, as it had been -revealed to him in his infrequent visits. - -Diana’s presence in the basement of the court-house had changed his day -for him, and he recalled every expression of her charming face, the -swift shyness of her glance, when his own must have been too eloquent, -and every gesture and movement during their interview. At the same -time he reflected that nothing could have been more unusual than her -presence there in the prisoner’s cage, as it was called, and he was -aware of a feeling of relief that no one had found them there together -at a time when his smallest action was likely to be a matter of common -public interest. - -But predominant, even over these thoughts, was the new aspect of -affairs. Yarnall was dead, and as a factor in the gubernatorial fight -he was personally removed, but his tragic death was likely to be as -potent as his presence. He had already proved to the satisfaction of -one jury that his defeat in the convention was due solely to Aylett’s -fraud and to Eaton’s hatred, and it was improbable that, even in a -violently partisan community, justice should not be done at last. -Besides, the frightful manner of his taking off called aloud for -expiation. The tumult at the court-house testified to the passions -that were stirred; the old feud between the Eatons and the Yarnalls -awoke, and men remembered, and related, how Yarnall’s father had -shot Jacob Eaton’s father. A shiver of apprehension ran through the -herded humanity in squares and alleys; superstition stirred. Was this -the requital? The old doctrine, an eye for an eye, a tooth for a -tooth,--how it still appeals to the savage in men’s blood. The crowd -pressed in around the court-house where Yarnall’s body lay in state, -and outside, in a stiff cordon, stood sentries; the setting sun flashed -upon their bayonets as the long tense day wore to its close. - -In the court-house Caleb Trench had worked tediously through the -evening with Judge Ladd and Judge Hollis. A thousand matters came up, -a thousand details had to be disposed of, and when he returned home at -midnight he was too exhausted physically and mentally to grapple long -with a problem at once tiresome and apparently insoluble. He dispatched -his supper, therefore, and putting out the light went to his own room. -But, before he could undress, Shot uttered a sharp warning bark, and -Caleb went back to the kitchen carrying a light, for the dog was -perfectly trained and not given to false alarms. - -His master found him with his nose to the crack of the outer door, -and the slow but friendly movement of his tail that announced an -acquaintance. At the same time there was a low knock at the door. - -“Who is there?” Caleb demanded, setting his light on the table and, at -the same time, preparing to unfasten the lock. - -“Fo’ de Lawd, Marse Trench, let me in!” cried a muffled voice from the -outside, and, as Caleb opened the door, Juniper nearly fell across the -room. - -“Shet de doah, massa,” he cried, “lock it; dey’s after me!” - -It was intensely dark, being just about half an hour before dawn, and -the scent of morning was in the air. It seemed to Caleb, as he glanced -out, that the darkness had a softly dense effect, almost as if it -actually had a substance; he could not see ten yards from the threshold -and the silence was ominous. He shut the door and locked it and drew -down the shade over the kitchen window; afterwards he remembered this -and wondered if it were some impulse of secretiveness that prompted a -movement that he had not considered. - -Meanwhile Juniper had fallen together in a miserable huddled heap -by the stove. His head was buried in his arms and he was sobbing in -terror, long-drawn shivering sobs that seemed to tear his very heart -out. Trench stood looking at him, knowing fully what suspicions were -against the black, and the terrible threats that had filled the town, -seething as it was with excitement and a natural hatred of the race. -That Juniper had plotted Yarnall’s death was an absurdity to Trench’s -mind; that he might have been the tool of another was barely possible. -On the other hand, his chances of justice from the mob were too small -to be considered. His very presence under any man’s roof was a danger -as poignant as pestilence. This last thought, however, had no weight -with Caleb Trench. The stray dog guarded his hearth, the nameless child -lay asleep in the next room, and now the hunted negro cowered before -him. It was characteristic of the man that the personal side of it, the -interpretation that might be put upon his conduct, never entered his -calculations. Instead, he looked long and sternly at the negro. - -“Juniper,” he said, “you were the only person seen in the window of the -court-house before the assassination of Mr. Yarnall. Were you alone -there?” - -Juniper cowered lower in his seat. “Fo’ de Lawd, Marse Trench, I can’t -tell you!” he sobbed. - -“Who was in the room with you?” asked Trench sharply. - -“I can’t tell!” the negro whimpered; “I don’ know.” - -“Yes, you do,” said Caleb, “and you will be forced to tell it in court. -Probably, before you go to court, if the people catch you,” he added -cold-bloodedly. - -Juniper fell on his knees; it seemed as if his face had turned lead -color instead of brown, and his teeth chattered. “Dey’s gwine ter lynch -me!” he sobbed, “an’ fo’ de Lawd, massa, I ain’t done it!” - -Caleb looked at him unmoved. “If you know who did it, and do not tell, -you are what they call in law an accessory after the fact, and you can -be punished.” - -Juniper shook from head to foot. “Marse Caleb,” he said, with sudden -solemnity, “de Lawd made us both, de white an’ de black, I ain’t gwine -ter b’lieb dat He’ll ferget me bekase I’se black! I ain’t murdered no -one.” - -Caleb regarded him in silence; the force and eloquence of Juniper’s -simple plea carried its own conviction. Yet, he knew that the negro -could name the murderer and was afraid to. There was a tense moment, -then far off a sound, awful in the darkness of early morning,--the -swift galloping of horses on the hard highroad. - -“Dey’s comin’,” said Juniper in a dry whisper, his lips twisting; -“dey’s comin’ ter kill me--de Lawd hab mercy on my soul!” - -Nearer drew the sound of horses’ feet, nearer the swift and awful -death. Caleb Trench blew out his light; through the window crevices -showed faint gray streaks. Shot was standing up now, growling. Caleb -sent him into the room with little Sammy, and shut the door on them. -Then he took the almost senseless negro by the collar and dragged him -to the stairs. - -“Go up!” he ordered sternly; “go to the attic and drag up the ladder -after you.” - -Juniper clung to him. “Save me!” he sobbed, “I ain’t dun it; I ain’t -murdered him!” - -“Go!” ordered Caleb sharply. - -Already there was a summons at his door, and he heard the trample of -the horses. Juniper went crawling up the stairs and disappeared into -the darkness above. Caleb went to his desk and took down the telephone -receiver, got a reply and sent a brief message; then he quietly put -his pistol in his pocket and went deliberately to the front door and -threw it open. As he did it some one cut the telephone connection, -but it was too late. In the brief interval since he had admitted the -fugitive, day had dawned in the far East, and the first light seemed to -touch the world with the whiteness of wood ashes; even the cottonwoods -showed weirdly across the road. All around the house were mounted men, -and nearly every man wore a black mask. The sight was gruesome, but it -stirred something like wrath in Caleb’s heart; how many men were here -to murder one poor frightened creature, with the intellect of a child -and the soul of a savage! - -Caleb’s large figure seemed to fill the door, as he stood with folded -arms and looked out into the gray morning, unmoved as he would look -some day into the Valley of the Shadow. Of physical cowardice he knew -nothing, of moral weakness still less; he had the heroic obstinacy of -an isolated soul. It cost him nothing to be courageous, because he had -never known fear. Unconsciously, he was a born fighter; the scent of -battle was breath to his nostrils. He looked over the masked faces with -kindling eyes; here and there he recognized a man and named him, to the -mask’s infinite dismay. - -“Your visit is a little early, gentlemen,” he said quietly, “but I am -at home.” - -“Look here, Trench, we want that nigger!” they yelled back. - -“You mean Juniper?” said Caleb coolly. “Well, you won’t get him from -me.” - -“We know he’s about here!” was the angry retort, “and we’ll have him, -d’ye hear?” - -“I hear,” said Caleb, slipping his hand into his pocket. “You can -search the woods; there are about three miles of them behind me, -besides the highroad to Paradise Ridge.” - -“We’re going to search your house,” replied the leader; “that’s what -we’re going to do.” - -“Are you?” said Caleb, in his usual tone, his eyes traveling over -their heads, through the ghostly outlines of the cottonwoods, past the -tallest pine to the brightening eastern sky. - -Something in his aspect, something which is always present in supreme -courage,--that impalpable but strenuous thing which quells the hearts -of men before a leader,--quenched their fury. - -“Look here, Caleb Trench, you were Yarnall’s lawyer; you ain’t in the -damned Eaton mess. Where’s that Eaton nigger?” - -Caleb’s hand closed on the handle of his revolver in his pocket. -“Gentlemen,” he said quietly, “I happen to know that the negro, -Juniper, did not shoot Mr. Yarnall, and if I know where he is now I -will not tell you.” - -“By God, you shall!” yelled the nearest rioter, swinging forward with -uplifted fist. - -He swung almost on the muzzle of Caleb’s revolver. - -“One step farther and you’re a dead man,” Trench said. - -The would-be lyncher lurched backward. In the white light of dawn -Caleb’s gaunt figure loomed, his stern face showed its harshest lines, -and there was fire in his eyes. A stone flew and struck him a little -below the shoulder, another rattled on the shingles beside the door; -there was a low ominous roar from the mob; right and left men were -dismounting, and horses plunged and neighed. - -“Give up that damned nigger or die yourself!” was the cry, taken up and -echoed. - -Within the house Shot began to bark furiously, and there was suddenly -the shrill crying of a child. - -“Jean Bartlett!” some one shouted. - -“Ay, let’s hang him, too--for her sake!” - -There were cheers and hisses. Caleb neither moved nor shut the door. - -“Give us that nigger!” they howled, crowding up. - -By a miracle, as it seemed, he had kept them about three yards from -the entrance in a semicircle, and here they thronged now. From the -first they had surrounded the house, and the possibility of an entrance -being forced in the rear flashed upon Caleb. But he counted a little -on the curiosity that kept them hanging on his movements, watching the -leaders. He saw at a glance that there was no real organization, that -a motley crowd had fallen in with the one popular idea of lynching the -negro offender, and that a breath of real fear would dissolve them like -the mists which were rolling along the river bottoms. - -“Where’s that nigger?” came the cry again, and then: “It’s time you -remembered Jean Bartlett!” - -One of the leaders, a big man whom Caleb failed to recognize, was still -mounted. He rose in his stirrups. “Hell!” he said, “he’s got the child; -if he hadn’t, I’d burn him out.” - -“Gentlemen,” said Caleb coolly, raising his hand to command attention, -“I will give the child to your leader’s care if you wish to fire my -house. I do not want to be protected by the boy, nor by any false -impression that I am expiating an offense against Jean Bartlett.” - -There was a moment of silence again, then a solitary cheer amid a storm -of hisses. A tumult of shoutings and blasphemies drowned all coherent -speech. Men struggled forward and stopped speechless, staring at the -unmoved figure in the door, and the grim muzzle of his six-shooter. -It was full day now, and murder and riot by daylight are tremendous -things; they make the soul of the coward quake. There were men here and -there in the crowd who shivered, and some never forgot it until their -dying day. - -“Give us the nigger!” - -Caleb made no reply; his finger was on the trigger. There was a wild -shout and, as they broke and rushed, Caleb fired. One man went down, -another fell back, the mob closed in, pandemonium reigned. Then there -was a warning cry from the rear, the clear note of a bugle, the thunder -of more horses’ hoofs, the flash of bayonets, and a file of troopers -charged down the long lane; there was a volley, a flash of fire and -smoke. Men mounted and rode for life, and others fell beneath the -clubbed bayonets into the trampled dust. - -In the doorway Caleb Trench stood, white and disheveled, with blood on -his forehead, but still unharmed. - - - - -XXI - - -COLONEL ROYALL was reading an extra edition of the morning paper; it -contained a full account of the attempted lynching, and the timely -arrival of the militia. The colonel was smoking a big cigar and the -lines of his face were more placid than they had been for a week, -but his brow clouded a little as he looked down the broad driveway -and saw Jacob Eaton approaching. Jacob, of late, had been somewhat -in the nature of a stormy petrel. Nor did the colonel feel unlimited -confidence in the younger man’s judgment; he was beginning to feel -uneasy about certain large transactions which he had trusted to Jacob’s -management. - -The situation, however, was uppermost in the colonel’s mind? He dropped -the paper across his knee and knocked the ashes out of his cigar. -Jacob’s smooth good looks had never been more apparent and he was -dressed with his usual elaborate care. Nothing could have sat on him -more lightly than the recent verdict, and the fact that he was out on -bail. Colonel Royall, who was mortified by it, looked at him with a -feeling of exasperation. - -“Been in town?” he asked, after the exchange of greetings, as Jacob -ascended the piazza steps. - -“All the morning,” he replied, sitting down on the low balustrade and -regarding the colonel from under heavy eyelids. - -“How is it? Quiet?” The colonel was always sneakingly conscious of a -despicable feeling of panic when Jacob regarded him with that drooping -but stony stare. - -“Militia is still out,” said Jacob calmly, “and if the disturbances -continue the governor threatens to call on Colonel Ross for a company -of regulars.” - -“He’s nervous,” commented the colonel reflectively. “I don’t wonder. -How in the mischief did Aylett happen to be near Yarnall?” - -Jacob looked pensive. “I don’t know,” he said; “I was in the rear -corridor by the State’s Attorney’s room. They say Aylett was crossing -the quadrangle just in front of Yarnall.” - -The colonel smoked for a few moments in silence, then he took his cigar -from between his teeth. “What were you doing in the corridor?” he asked -pointedly. - -Jacob took a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. “I was going to -Colonel Coad’s office, and I was the first to try to locate the shots -outside the court-house.” - -“I was in Judge Ladd’s room,” said Colonel Royall deliberately, “and I -reckon that was as near as I want to be. I see by this”--he touched the -paper with his finger--“that Caleb Trench induced Juniper to surrender -to the authorities, and he says that he’s sure he can prove the negro’s -innocence.” - -Jacob laughed, showing his teeth unpleasantly. “Probably he can,” he -remarked; “he’s under arrest himself.” - -The colonel swung around in his chair. “Caleb Trench? What for?” - -“For the assassination of Yarnall.” - -“By gum!” said the colonel in honest wrath, “what rotten nonsense!” - -Jacob said nothing; he continued to smoke his cigarette. - -The colonel slapped the paper down on his knee. “When men’s blood is -heated, they run wild,” he said. “Why, Trench was Yarnall’s counsel; -he’d won the case for him--he--” - -“Just so,” replied Jacob coolly; “you forget that Aylett had insulted -Trench twice in court, that he despised him as heartily as I do and -that Aylett was almost beside Yarnall!” - -The colonel pushed his hat back on his head and thought. He knew that -Eaton hated Trench, but his mind did not embrace the enormity of a -hatred that could revel in such an accusation. “The charge then must be -that he meant to hit Aylett,” he said, after a long moment, “and that -makes him take big risks. These Yankees aren’t good shots, half of ’em.” - -Jacob laughed unpleasantly. “Well, I reckon he wasn’t,” he remarked, -and as his thoughts went back to a certain gray morning in Little Neck -Meadow, his face reddened. - -The colonel wriggled uncomfortably in his chair. “What did he want to -shoot Aylett for?” he demanded. - -“You’ve forgotten, I suppose, that Aylett called him a liar twice in -court,” said Jacob dryly. - -“He didn’t shoot you for a greater provocation,” retorted the colonel -bluntly. - -“He was the only man found in the court-room with the smoking -weapon,” said Jacob. “Juniper ran away, and he’s been protecting -Juniper,--buying him off from testifying, I reckon.” - -“I can’t understand why either he or Juniper was in the court-room,” -declared the colonel, frowning. - -“Had good reason to be,” replied Jacob tartly, tossing his cigarette -over the rail. - -“See here, Jacob,” said the colonel solemnly, “I’m an old man and your -relation, and I feel free to give you advice. You keep your oar out of -it.” - -Jacob laughed. “I’ve got to testify,” he drawled. - -“Good Lord!” exclaimed the colonel. - -Then followed several moments of intense silence. - -“Where’s Diana?” asked the young man at last, rising and flipping some -ashes off his coat. - -“In the flower garden,” replied her father thoughtfully, “she’s seeing -to some plants for winter; I reckon she won’t want you around.” - -Jacob looked more agreeable. “I think I’ll go all the same,” he said, -strolling away. - -The colonel leaned forward in his chair and called after him. “Jacob, -how about these stocks? I wanted to sell out at eight and three -quarter cents.” - -Eaton paused reluctantly, his hands in his pockets. “You can next -week,” he said; “the market’s slumped this. You’d better let me handle -that deal right through, Cousin David.” - -“You’ve been doing it straight along,” said the colonel. “I reckon I’d -better wake up and remember that I used to know something. I’m equal to -strong meats yet, Jacob, and you’ve been putting me on pap.” - -“Oh, it’s all right!” said Jacob. “I’ll sell the shares out for you,” -and he departed. - -The colonel sat watching him. The old thought that he would probably -marry Diana no longer had any attractions for him; he had lost -confidence in Jacob’s sleek complacence, and the recent testimony in -court had shaken it still more. Besides, he had a fine pride of family, -and the verdict against Jacob had irritated and mortified him. Nothing -was too good for Diana, and the fact that there was the shadow of a -great sorrow upon her made her even dearer to her father. He had never -thought that she had more than a passing fancy for Jacob, and lately he -had suspected that she disliked him. The colonel ruminated, strumming -on the piazza balustrade with absent fingers. Before him the long slope -of the lawn was still as green as summer, but the horse-chestnut burs -were open and the glossy nuts fell with every light breeze. Across the -road a single gum tree waved a branch of flame. - -He was still sitting there when Kingdom-Come brought out a mint julep -and arranged it on the table at his elbow. - -The colonel glanced up, conscious that the negro lingered. “What’s the -matter, King?” he asked good-humoredly. - -“News from town, suh,” the black replied, flicking some dust off the -table with his napkin. “Dey’s tried ter storm de jail, suh. De militia -charged, an’ deyer’s been right smart shootin’.” - -Colonel Royall looked out apprehensively over the slope to the south -which showed in the distance the spires and roofs of the city. A blue -fog of smoke hung low over it and the horizon beyond had the haze of -autumn. “Bad news,” said he, shaking his head. - -“It suttinly am, suh,” agreed Kingdom-Come, “an’ dey do say dat Aunt -Charity ez gwine ter leave Juniper now fo’ sho.” - -“She’s left him at intervals for forty years,” said the colonel, -tasting his julep; “I reckon he can stand it, King.” - -The negro grinned. “I reckon so, suh,” he assented. “Juniper dun said -once dat he’d gib her her fare ef she’d go by rail an’ stay away!” - -Just then Miss Kitty Broughton stopped her pony cart at the gate and -came across the lawn. The colonel rose ceremoniously and greeted her, -hat in hand. - -“Where’s Diana?” Kitty asked eagerly. - -“In the rose garden with Jacob, my dear,” said the colonel. - -Kitty made a grimace. “_Noblesse oblige_,” she said; “I suppose I must -stay here. Colonel, isn’t it all dreadful? Grandfather can’t keep -from swearing, he isn’t respectable, and Aunt Sally has Sammy.” Kitty -blushed suddenly. “I took Shot, the dog, you know; they won’t let Mr. -Trench have bail.” - -“It’s the most inexplicable thing I know of,” said the colonel, -stroking his white moustache. “Why Caleb Trench should shoot his own -client--” - -Kitty stared. “Why, Colonel, you know, don’t you, that the arrest was -made on Jacob Eaton’s affidavit?” - -Colonel Royall leaned back in his chair, and Kitty found his expression -inexplicable. “How long have you known this?” he asked. - -“Since morning,” said Kitty promptly. “Grandpa told us; he’s furious, -but he says it’s a good case. It seems Mr. Eaton saw Mr. Trench first -in the court-room. The two shots were fired, you know, in quick -succession. Juniper was seen by some one at the window just before; no -one saw who fired the shots, but Mr. Eaton met Caleb Trench leaving -the room. No one else was there, and Mr. Trench says that Juniper did -not fire the shots. Juniper is half dead with fright, and in the jail -hospital; he went out of his head this morning when the mob tried to -rush the jail. It’s awful; they say six people were killed and three -wounded.” - -“Caleb Trench wounded two last night,” said the colonel. He had the air -of a man in a dream. - -“They won’t die,” replied Kitty, cold-bloodedly, “and it’s a good thing -to stop these lynchers. Wasn’t Mr. Trench grand? I’m dying to go and -see him and tell him how I admired the account of him facing the mob. -What does Di think?” - -“She hasn’t said,” replied the colonel, suddenly remembering that -Diana’s silence was unusual. He looked apprehensively toward the rose -garden and saw the flutter of a white dress through an opening in the -box hedge. “Kitty,” he added abruptly, “you go over there and see Diana -and ask her yourself.” - -“While Mr. Eaton’s there?” Kitty giggled. “I couldn’t, Colonel Royall; -he’d hate me.” - -The colonel looked reflectively at the young girl sitting in the big -chair opposite. She was very pretty and her smile was charming. “I -don’t think he’d hate you, my dear,” he remarked dryly, “and I know -Diana wants to see you.” - -Kitty hesitated. “I don’t like to interrupt,” she demurred. - -“You won’t,” said the colonel, a little viciously. - -Kitty rose and descended the steps to the lawn, nothing loath; then -she stopped and looked over her shoulder. “Mr. Trench will be tried -immediately,” she said; “the Grand Jury indicted him this morning.” - -The colonel’s frown of perplexity deepened. “I call it indecent haste,” -he said. - -“Grandpa is to defend him,” said Kitty, “and we’re proud of him. I -think Caleb Trench is a real hero, Colonel Royall.” - -The colonel sighed. “I wish Jacob was,” he thought, but he did not -speak. - - - - -XXII - - -JUDGE HOLLIS was writing in his office. He had been writing five hours -and the green shade of his lamp was awry, while his briar-wood had just -gone out for the ninety-ninth time. Some one knocked twice on the outer -door before he noticed it. Then he shouted: “Come in!” - -After some fumbling with the lock the door opened, and Zeb Bartlett’s -shambling figure lurched into the room. He came in boldly, but cowered -as he met the judge’s fierce expression. The old man swung around in -his chair and faced him, his great overhanging brows drawn together -over glowing eyes, and his lip thrust out. - -The boy was stricken speechless, and stood hat in hand, feebly rubbing -the back of his head. The judge, who hated interruption and loathed -incompetence, scowled. “What d’ye want here?” he demanded. - -Zeb wet his parched lips with his tongue. “I want the law on him,” he -mumbled; “I want the law on him!” - -“What in thunder are you mumbling about?” demanded the old man -impatiently; “some one stole your wits?” - -“It was him did my sister wrong,” Zeb said, his tongue loosed between -fear and hate; “it’s him, and I want him punished--now they’ve got him!” - -Judge Hollis threw the pen that he had been holding suspended into the -ink-well. “See here, Zeb,” he said, “if you can tell us who ruined your -poor crazed sister, why, by the Lord Harry, I’d like to punish him!” - -Zeb looked cunning; he edged nearer to the desk. “I can tell you,” he -said, “I can tell you right cl’ar off, but--I want him punished!” - -“May be the worst we can do is to make him take care of the child,” -said Judge Hollis. - -“That won’t do,” said Zeb, “that ain’t enough; he left her to starve, -and me to starve--she tole me who it was!” - -Judge Hollis was not without curiosity, but he restrained it manfully. -He even took his paper-cutter and folded the paper before him in little -plaits. “Zeb,” he said, “it’s a rotten business, but the girl’s dead -and Caleb Trench has taken the child and--” - -“It’s him, curse him, it’s him!” Zeb cried, shaking his fist. - -Judge Hollis dropped the paper-cutter and rose from his chair, his -great figure, in the long dark blue coat, towering. - -“How dare you say that?” he demanded, “you cur--you skunk!” - -But Zeb was ugly; he set his teeth, and his crazy eyes flashed. “I tell -you it’s him,” he cried; “ain’t I said she tole me?” - -“Damn you, I don’t believe you,” the judge shouted; “it’s money you -want, money!” He grabbed the shaking boy by the nape of the neck, as -a dog takes a rat, and shook him. “You clear out,” he raged, “and you -keep your damned lying, dirty tongue still!” and flung him out and -locked the door. - -Then, panting slightly, he went back to his seat, swung it to his -desk again, rolled back his cuffs and wiped the perspiration from his -forehead. Then he pulled his pen out of the ink-well and shook the -surplus ink over the floor and began to write; he wrote two pages -and dropped his pen. His head sank, his big shoulders bowed over, -he was lost in thought. He thought there for an hour, while nothing -stirred except the mouse that was gnawing his old law-books and had -persistently evaded Miss Sarah’s vigilance. Then the judge brought -his great fist down on his desk, and the ink-well danced, and the pen -rolled off. - -“My God!” he exclaimed to himself, “I’ve loved him like a son, the girl -was treated like hell--it can’t be true!” - -He rose, jammed his hat down on his head and walked out; he walked the -streets for hours. - -It was very late when he was admitted to the old jail. It was past time -to admit visitors, but the judge was a privileged person. The warden -gave up his private room to him and sent for the prisoner. The lamp -burnt low on the desk, and the old judge sat before it, heavy with -thought. He looked up mechanically when Caleb came in with his quick -firm step and faced him. The two greeted each other without words, and -Caleb sat down, waiting. He knew his visitor had something on his mind. - -Judge Hollis looked at him, studying him, studying the clear-cut lines, -the hollowed cheeks, the clear gray eyes, the chiseled lips,--not a -handsome face, but one of power. The sordid wretchedness of the story, -like a foul weed springing up to choke a useful plant, struck him again -with force and disgust. - -“I’ve just seen Zeb Bartlett,” he said; “he’s raving to punish the -man who wronged his sister. He says you did it!” The old man glared -fiercely at the young one. - -Caleb’s expression was slightly weary, distinctly disappointed: he -had hoped for something of importance. The story of Jean Bartlett was -utterly unimportant in his life. “I know it,” he said briefly; “it is -easy to accuse, more difficult to prove the truth.” - -The judge leaned forward, his clasped hands hanging between his knees, -his head lowered. “Caleb,” he said, “maybe it’s not right to ask you, -but, between man and man, I’d like to know God’s truth.” - -Caleb Trench returned the old man’s look calmly. “Judge,” he said, -“have you ever known me to steal?” - -The judge shook his head. - -“Or to lie?” - -Again the judge dissented. - -“Then why do you accuse me in your heart of wronging a half-witted -girl?” he asked coldly. - -The judge rose from his chair and walked twice across the room; then -he stopped in front of the younger man. “Caleb,” he said, “by the Lord -Harry, I’m plumb ashamed to ask you to forgive me.” - -Caleb smiled a little sadly. “Judge,” he said, “there’s nothing to -forgive. Without your friendship I should have been a lost man. I -understand. Slander has a hundred tongues.” - -“Zeb Bartlett is shouting the accusation to the four winds of heaven, I -presume,” said the judge, “and there’s the child--you--” - -“I’ve taken him,” said Caleb, “and I mean to keep him. I’ve known -poverty, I’ve known homelessness, I’ve known slander; the kid has got -to face it all, and he won’t do it without one friend.” - -The judge looked at him a long time, then he went over and clapped his -hand down on his shoulder. “By the Lord Harry!” he said, “you’re a man, -and I respect you. Let them talk--to the devil!” - -“Amen!” said Caleb Trench. - - - - -XXIII - - -WHEN the case of the Commonwealth versus Caleb Trench was called, it -was found necessary to convene the court in the old criminal court-room -in the northeast corner of the quadrangle. The room from which Yarnall -had been shot, known as Criminal Court Number One, was too open to -the square, and too conveniently located as a storm center. The old -court-room facing northeast was smaller, and so poorly lighted that -dull mornings it was necessary to burn lights on the judge’s desk and -at the recorder’s table. It opened on the inner court, and the only -thing seen from the window was the tree of heaven, which was turning a -dingy yellow and dropping its frond-like leaves into the court below. -During half the trial Aaron Todd’s son and another youngster sat in -this tree and peered in the windows, the room being too crowded for -admittance; but when Miss Royall testified even the windows were so -stuffed with humanity that the two in the tree saw nothing, and roosted -in disappointment. - -In the quadrangle before the court-house, and in a hollow square around -it, were the troops, through the whole trial, and after a while one -got used to the rattle of their guns as they changed at noon. Men -fought for places in the court-room, and the whole left-hand side was -packed solid with young and pretty women. The figure of Caleb Trench, -since his famous Cresset speech, had loomed large on the horizon, and -the account of the frustrated lynching added a thrilling touch of -romance. Besides, Jacob Eaton was to testify against him, and that -alone would have drawn an audience. The thrill of danger, the clash -of the sentry’s rifle in the quadrangle, the constant dread of riots, -added a piquancy to the situation that was like a dash of fine old -wine in a _ragout_. The room was packed to suffocation, and reporters -for distant newspapers crowded the reporters’ table, for the case was -likely to be of national interest. The doors and the corridors were -thronged, and a long line waited admission on the staircase. Some -failed to get in the first or the second day, and being desperate -stayed all night outside, and so were admitted on the third day. - -Judge Hollis had charge of the defense, and it was expected that he -would ask a change of venue, but he did not. Instead he tried to get a -jury, using all his privileges to challenge. It was almost impossible -to get an unbiased juror and, at the end of a week, he had exhausted -two panels and was on another. On the fifteenth day he got a jury -and the public drew breath. Judge Ladd was on the bench,--a fair but -choleric man, and known to be rather unfavorable to the prisoner. -Bail had been absolutely refused, and Caleb Trench shared the fate of -the other prisoners in the jail, except, indeed, that he was doubly -watched, for the tide of men’s passions rose and fell. He had been -almost a popular idol; he was, therefore, doubly likely to be a popular -victim, and Aylett went far and wide declaring that he believed the -shot was intended for him, and that Yarnall had suddenly passed between -him and the window at the fateful moment. - -On the other hand Jacob Eaton spoke freely of Jean Bartlett and her -child. The scandal traveled like a fire in prairie grass, and Jean, -who had been in life the Shameful Thing of Paradise Ridge, became -now a persecuted martyr, and Trench the monster who had ruined her -life. The fact that he had taken the child, instead of being in his -favor, recoiled strongly against him. He was watched as he sat in the -prisoners’ dock, and every expression of his stern and homely face was -noted; the slight awkwardness of his tall figure seemed more visible, -and men were even startled by his eyes. It may be added that the women -found them most interesting, especially when that sudden light flashed -into them that had cowed so many of the weaker brethren. Like all -strong, blunt men, Caleb had made his enemies, and now, in the hour of -his need, they multiplied like flies. Misfortune breeds such insects as -readily as swamplands breed mosquitoes. - -“I’d be ashamed to say I knew that shyster,” one of the Eaton faction -said in the crowded court-room at noon recess, and Dr. Cheyney heard -him. - -The old man snorted. “I’m almighty glad he don’t know you,” he said -dryly. - -The next day they began to take testimony. Juniper, the one person who -had been in the court-room at the time of the assassination, could not -be called at once, as he was still in the hospital, but he had made -a deposition that he did not know who fired the shots, that his back -was turned and that when he heard the reports he ran. This impossible -statement could not be shaken even by threats. Later, he would go -on the stand, but Judge Hollis had given up hope of the truth; he -believed, at heart, that Juniper was crazed with fright. Had he been -hired to fire the shots? The judge could not believe it, for he felt -tolerably certain that Juniper would have hit nothing. - -The general belief outside, however, was that Caleb had used his -opportunity well and threatened or bribed the negro into making -his remarkable affidavit. In fact, Caleb was himself profoundly -puzzled, yet the testimony of Eaton, given clearly and apparently -dispassionately, was damaging. He had been in Colonel Coad’s office, -he was coming along the upper corridor, heard the shots and ran to the -court-room, reaching the door immediately before Sergeant O’More of -the police; both men met Caleb Trench coming out of the room, and on -the floor, by the window, was the revolver. No one else was in sight. -Juniper’s flight had been made at the first shot, and seven minutes -only had elapsed before any one could reach the court-room. Caleb -Trench had been seen to enter the building at twenty-five minutes to -one o’clock, and his time up to the assassination was unaccounted for. -He said that he had been in the basement of the building, but his -statement did not give any legitimate reason for the length of time -between his entrance and his appearance in the court-room. It took, -in reality, just two minutes to reach the court-room from the lower -door by the staircase. Trench made no explanation of the use of that -twenty-five minutes, even to his counsel. Judge Hollis stormed and grew -angry, but Caleb pointed out the fact that the pistol was not his, and -he could prove it; this made the judge’s language absolutely profane. -The obstinacy of the prisoner resulted in a distinct collapse at that -point in the trial; it was evident that the time must be accounted for, -since the circumstantial evidence was strong. - -The public prosecutor, Colonel Coad, was pressing in, scoring point -by point, and Judge Hollis fought and sparred and gave way, inwardly -swearing because he had to do so. Meanwhile, the prisoner was serene; -he took notes and tried to help his counsel, but he showed no signs -of trepidation and he would not admit any use for that time in the -basement of the court-house. Judge Hollis could not, therefore, put him -on the stand on his own behalf, and the old man grew purple with wrath. - -“Look here, Mr. Trench,” he said, with bitter formality, “what damned -crotchet have you got in your head? What fool thing were you doing? -Working a penny-in-the-slot machine in the basement? Out with it, or I -walk out of this case.” - -“And leave me to the tender mercies of my enemies,” said Caleb quietly; -“no, Judge, not yet! I can’t see my way clear to tell you.” - -“Then I’m darned if I see mine to defend you!” snapped the judge. - -They were in the prisoner’s cell at the jail, and Caleb got up and -went to the little barred window which overlooked the dreary courtyard -where the prisoners were exercising. After a moment, when he seemed -to mechanically count the blades of grass between the flagstones, he -turned. The judge was watching him, his hat on like a snuffer, as -usual, and his hands in pockets. - -“Judge Hollis,” said Caleb quietly, “if I told you where I was, another -witness would have to be called, and neither you nor I would wish to -call that witness.” - -The judge looked at him steadily; Caleb returned the look as steadily, -and there was a heavy silence. - -“By the Lord Harry!” said the judge at last, “I believe you’d let ’em -hang you rather than give in a hair’s breadth.” - -Then Caleb smiled his rare sweet smile. - -The second long week of the trial wore to its close, and the web of -circumstantial evidence was clinging fast about the prisoner. Witnesses -had testified to his character and against it. The name of Jean -Bartlett ran around the court, and some men testified to a belief that -Caleb was the father of the child he had befriended. Judge Hollis did -not attempt to have the testimony ruled out; he let it go in, sitting -back with folded arms and a grim smile. He cross-examined Jacob Eaton -twice, but made nothing of it. Jacob was an excellent witness, and -he showed no passion, even when witnesses described the duel and his -conduct to show his motive in attacking Trench. - -Sunday night Judge Hollis received a telephone message from Colonel -Royall, and, after his early supper, the judge ordered around his -rockaway and drove over, with Lysander beside him to hold the reins. -He found Mrs. Eaton in the drawing-room with Diana, and was coldly -received by Jacob’s mother; she resented any attempt to line up forces -against her son, and she regarded the defender of Caleb Trench as an -enemy to society. The judge bowed before her grimly. - -“I thought you were in the city, madam,” he remarked. - -Mrs. Eaton threw up her hands. “With that mob loose, and the soldiers? -My dear Judge! I wouldn’t stay for a million, and I’m a poor woman. -Good gracious, think of it! It’s just as I’ve always said,--you go on -letting in the shiploads of anarchists and we’ll all be murdered in our -beds.” - -“Madam,” said the judge grimly, “the only thing I ever let in is the -cat. Sarah and the niggers look after the front door.” - -Mrs. Eaton raised her eyebrows. “I can’t understand you,” she said, -with distant politeness; “I refer to immigration.” - -“And I refer to immoderation, madam,” snapped the judge. - -Diana intervened. “Pa wants you,” she said sweetly, and went with him -across the hall to the library. At the door she paused. “Judge Hollis,” -she said, “does the trial hinge on the question of the time in the -basement--before--before Mr. Trench went up-stairs?” - -The judge scowled. “It does,” said he flatly, “and Caleb’s a fool.” - -Diana smiled faintly; she looked unusually lovely and very grave. -“Judge,” she said, “no matter what pa says, I’ll do it all; he’s -demurred,” and with this enigmatical sentence she thrust the judge -inside the door and closed it. - -Monday the court met at noon and the throng was greater than ever. -Report had it that the case was going to the jury, and men had slept -on benches in the square. The morning papers reprinted Caleb’s famous -speech at Cresset’s and the account of the stand he had made in the -face of the would-be lynching party. Fed with this fuel, party feeling -ran high; besides, the Yarnall faction was deeply stirred. It seemed as -if this change in events had swept away the chance of punishment for -Jacob Eaton, who was figuring largely and conspicuously in this trial -and who had caught the public eye. Moreover, he had been industrious -in circulating the scandalous tale of Jean Bartlett. The court-room -buzzed. Three times Judge Ladd rapped for order and finally threatened -to clear the court-room. This was the day that the crowd in the windows -shut off all view for those in the tree of heaven. It was a hot autumn -day and the air was heavy. Stout men like Judge Hollis looked purple, -and even Caleb flushed under the strain. - -Colonel Coad cross-examined two witnesses in a lengthy fashion that -threatened to exhaust even the patience of the court, and Judge Hollis -was on his feet every few minutes with objections. The judge was out -of temper, nervous and snappy, yet triumph glowed in his eyes, for he -scented battle and victory at last. - -The dreary day wore to an uneventful end, and there was almost a sob of -disappointment in the packed and sweltering mass of humanity. One woman -fainted and the bailiffs had to bring ice-water. Outside, the rifles -rattled as the guards changed. - -At five o’clock, just before the belated adjournment hour, Judge Hollis -rose and asked the clerk to call a new witness for the defense. There -was a languid stir of interest, the judge looked irate, the jurors -shifted wearily in their chairs. The clerk called the witness. - -“Diana Royall.” - -The sensation was immense; the court-room hummed, the weariest juror -turned and looked down the crowded room. Very slowly a way was made -to the witness-stand, and a tall slight figure in white, with a broad -straw hat and a light veil, came quietly forward. - -Caleb Trench turned deadly white. - -In a stillness so intense that every man seemed to hear only his own -heart beat, the clerk administered the oath and the new witness went on -the stand. - - - - -XXIV - - -JUDGE HOLLIS, standing before the witness-stand, looked at Diana with -fatherly eyes; his manner lost its brusqueness and became that of the -old-fashioned gentleman of gallantry. Diana herself looked across the -court-room with a composure and dignity of pose that became her. Every -eye was riveted upon her. For days the papers had reeked with the -story of Jean Bartlett and her child, yet here--on the stand for the -prisoner--was one of the first young ladies in the State. - -Judge Hollis had been taking notes, and he closed his notebook on his -finger and took off his gold-rimmed spectacles. - -“Where were you on the afternoon of Tuesday, August eighteenth, about -one o’clock, Miss Diana?” - -Diana answered at once, and in a clear low voice. “In this building, -Judge, in a small room on the lower floor.” - -“A small room on the lower floor? Let us see, Miss Diana,”--the judge -tapped his book with his spectacles,--“the room to the right, was it, -at the end of the west corridor?” - -Diana explained the position of the room and the vicinity of the -staircase. - -“Ah,” said the old lawyer, with the air of having made a discovery, -“to be sure; it’s the room we call ‘the cage’--on the basement floor. -Rather a dreary place to wait, Miss Diana: how long were you there?” - -“I am not sure,” she replied, coloring suddenly, “but certainly an -hour. It was a little after twelve when we reached the building, and I -heard the clock strike one just before the shots were fired.” - -“Ah! You heard the shots?” - -“I did.” - -“How many did you hear, Miss Diana?” the judge asked in his easiest, -most conversational tone. - -“Two, Judge, two reports in quick succession.” - -“And you heard only two?” his tone was sharp, incisive; it cut like a -knife. - -Diana threw him a startled glance, but she was still composed, though -the breathless silence in the room was deeply affecting. - -“I heard but two,” she said firmly. - -“How soon after one o’clock?” he demanded, his bony forefinger -following her testimony, as it seemed, across the cover of the book he -held. - -“The clock in the hall had just struck.” Diana was holding every -instinct, every thought, in hand. Her eyes never left his rugged face, -yet, all the while, she was conscious of the court-room, growing dim -in the early twilight, of the rows of upturned eager faces, but more -conscious still of the pale face of Caleb Trench. - -Judge Hollis made some notes, then he looked up suddenly. “Miss -Royall,” he said formally, “do you know the prisoner at the bar?” - -Diana drew a deep breath; she was aware of a hundred pairs of curious -eyes. The awful silence of the room seemed to leap upon her and bear -her down. She turned her head with an effort and met Caleb’s eyes. For -a single second they looked at each other, with the shock of mutual -feeling, then she answered, and her low voice reached the farthest -corner of the crowded room. - -“I do.” - -Judge Hollis waited an instant; he let every word she said have its -full effect and weight. “Did you see him upon the morning of the -assassination?” - -“I did.” - -“In the basement of the court-house?” - -“In the room which you call the cage, Judge Hollis,” she replied -quietly, though she colored again; “I saw him there twice.” - -“At what time?” the old man’s harsh voice rang, like the blow of a -sledge-hammer. - -“He was with me in that room when the clock struck one, and we both -heard the shots fired.” Diana spoke gently, but her voice thrilled; she -knew that, in the face of the scurrilous attacks upon Caleb Trench, her -position was at once courageous and perilous. - -“He was in the room in the basement with you then, when Yarnall was -shot,” said Judge Hollis, his eyes kindling with triumph. - -“He was.” - -She had scarcely uttered the words, and Caleb Trench’s white face had -flushed deeply, when some one cheered. In an instant there was a wave -of applause. It swept through the room, it reached the corridors and -descended the stairs; the sentries heard it in the quadrangle. Men -stood up on the rear benches and shouted. Then Judge Ladd enforced -silence; he even threatened to clear the court by force and lock the -doors, and like a wave of the sea, the wild enthusiasm receded, only to -gain force and roll back at the first opportunity. - -Meanwhile Colonel Royall sat behind the witness-stand, leaning on his -cane, his head bowed and his fine aristocratic face as bloodless as a -piece of paper. There were many who pointed at him and whispered, and -the whisper traveled. “Was he thinking of his girl’s mother?” That foul -hag, the world, has a heart that treasures scandal, and the lips of -malice! - -The court-room seethed with excitement, but silence reigned again; -the lights were flaring now on the judge’s desk and on the reporters’ -table; the busy scratch of the stenographers’ pens was audible. Diana -was still on the stand, and she explained how Caleb Trench left her to -ascertain the results of the shots, and how he returned and got her -father and herself into their carriage. Her testimony was simple and -direct, and, though she was briefly cross-examined by Colonel Coad, the -prosecuting attorney, she sustained her position and suffered nothing -at the hands of that pompous but courteous gentleman. - -When Diana rose from the witness-stand and walked back to her seat -between her father and Miss Sarah Hollis, there was another ripple of -the wave of applause, but it was quickly suppressed. She leaned back -in her chair and clasped her hands tightly in her lap, struggling -with herself, for she was conscious of a new tumult of feeling that -submerged even thought itself; and it seemed to her that her heart -beat, not only in her bosom, but in every quivering limb. Was it -possible, she asked herself, that the tumult in the court-room had -frightened her? Or the fact that on her word alone hung a man’s life? -No, no, not altogether; in that moment, when their eyes met, she had -seen again the lonely trail and heard the dull passion in the man’s -voice when he told her that he loved her; and suddenly, in one of those -supreme moments of self-revelation, she knew that nothing mattered to -her, neither his humble struggle, his poverty, the accusation against -him, not even Jean Bartlett’s story, nothing--nothing counted but that -one primitive, undeniable fact of his love for her. Before it she felt -suddenly defenseless, yet another self was awakening to vigilance in -her heart and summoning her back to the battle of resistance. She had -testified for him, and every face in the court-room turned toward her, -strained to watch her, told her how great had been the weight of her -testimony. She had deceived herself with the thought that only her -duty brought her, her honor, her determination that justice should be -done. Yet she knew now that it was not that, but something mightier, -deeper, more unconquerable,--something that, to her shame, refused even -to consider the charges against him, and, instead, drew her to him -with a force so irresistible that she trembled. She fought it back and -struggled, resisted and tried to fix her attention on the proceedings -of the court. But what was there in the man? What power that had won -its way even with men and made him in so short a time a leader, and -now--was it casting its spell over her? - -Then she heard her father testifying briefly to the time that he left -her, to his own visit to Judge Ladd’s room, the announcement of the -shooting, and his return to Diana. It was in the order of sustaining -her testimony, but it was unnecessary, for she had already established -an _alibi_ for Trench. - -Then followed a tilt between counsel on the admission of testimony -from Dr. Cheyney as to the character of the defendant. Colonel Coad -resisted, fighting point by point. Judge Hollis was determined and -vindictive; he even lost his temper and quarreled with the Commonwealth -attorney, and would, doubtless, have become profane if the court -had not intervened and sustained him. In that moment the old lawyer -triumphed openly, his eyes flashing, his face nearly purple with -excitement. But the tilt was not over when the doctor was put on the -stand. It became evident, in a moment, that Judge Hollis was bent -on the story of Jean Bartlett, and Colonel Coad got to his feet and -objected. Again silence reigned in the court-room, and they heard the -tree of heaven creak under its weight of human fruit. Inch by inch -Colonel Coad fought and Judge Hollis won. Testimony had been admitted -to damage the character of the prisoner; he was offering this in -sur-rebuttal. It was half-past six when Colonel Coad gave up and the -old judge put on his spectacles and stared into the spectacled eyes of -the old doctor. The two eager, lined old faces were as wonderful in -their shrewd watchfulness as two faces from the brush of Rembrandt. -The dingy, green-shaded lights flickered on them, and the suppressed -excitement of the room thrilled about them, until the very atmosphere -seemed charged. - -“You have heard the prisoner charged with the ruin of Jean Bartlett, -Dr. Cheyney?” asked the judge. - -“I have, sir.” - -“You knew Jean Bartlett before and after the birth of her child; what -was her mental condition at those times?” - -“Before the birth of her child she was sane; afterwards she was ill a -long time and never fully recovered from the fever and delirium.” - -“Did she make any statement to you before the birth of the child?” - -Colonel Coad objected; Judge Hollis said that he intended to show that -the prisoner was not the father of the child. Objection not sustained. -The judge looked sideways at Colonel Coad and coughed; the colonel sat -down. The judge repeated his question. - -“She did,” said Dr. Cheyney slowly, leaning a little forward and -looking intently at the old lawyer. A breathless pause ensued. - -“Please state to the court the condition and nature of that statement.” -Judge Hollis’ tone was dry, rasping, unemotional. - -Dr. Cheyney took off his spectacles, wiped them and put them in his -pocket. “She was of sound mind and she stated her case to me, and I -made her repeat it and write it down, because”--the old doctor’s face -twisted a little into a whimsical grimace,--“I thought likely the child -might be handed around considerable.” - -A titter ran through the room. Judge Ladd rapped for order. Dr. Cheyney -unfolded a slip of paper and smoothed it out. - -“If it please the court,” he said quietly, “I have been very reluctant -to produce this evidence.” - -Colonel Coad rose. “Does it incriminate any person, or persons, not on -trial before this court?” he asked. - -“It does.” - -“Then, your Honor, I object!” shouted the indignant Coad. - -Judge Hollis turned to speak. - -“The objection is sustained,” said the court. - -The old lawyer for the defense turned purple again, and flashed a -furious glance at Dr. Cheyney. The doctor smiled, his face puckering. -The tense excitement and curiosity in the room found utterance in a -sigh of disappointment. Judge Hollis slammed his papers on his desk and -turned the witness over to the prosecution. Colonel Coad did not press -the examination, and the old doctor went calmly back to his seat with -his secret untold. - -Hollis turned to the court. “Your Honor, I waive the right to sum up, -and rest the case for the defense.” - -An hour later Colonel Coad had closed for the prosecution and Judge -Ladd charged the jury. - -There had been no recess, and the crowded room was packed to -suffocation. Everywhere were faces, white, haggard, intent with -excitement, and the labored breathing of men who hung upon a word. A -thunderstorm was coming on, and now and then a vivid flash flooded the -room with light. At half-past eight Judge Ladd gave the case to the -jury. The foreman rose and stated that the jury had reached a verdict -without leaving the box. - -There was an intense moment, and then Judge Ladd spoke slowly. - -“Have you agreed upon a verdict?” - -“We have, your Honor.” - -“Is the prisoner at the bar guilty, or not guilty, as charged in the -indictment?” - -“Not guilty.” - -The wave of passion and excitement broke, the court-room rose as one -man; the shout was heard ten squares away, and the echo reached the -farthest corner of the city. The bailiffs fought and struggled to keep -order, for men would have carried the prisoner on their shoulders. He -was the only one unmoved. He stood like a rock amid the surging crowd, -and it seemed to Diana that he towered, with a certain simplicity -and strength that made him seem at once apart from other men and -above them. In her heart she wondered at her own temerity, when she -had treated him with discourtesy. Here was a primitive man, and the -primitive strength, the righteous force in him, held other men, as that -strange gift of magnetism that wields and binds and moves millions till -they seem but one. - -She turned away, holding tightly to her father’s arm, eager to escape, -and begrudging the slow and tortuous passage to the door. Behind her -and before her, on every hand, from lip to lip, ran the prisoner’s name. - -The colonel almost lifted Diana from the crowd into the carriage. Then -he took his seat beside her and closed the door; slowly the horses made -their way through the throng in the quadrangle. It was raining hard, -and the wind blew the moisture across their heated faces. - -“By gum!” said Colonel Royall, “they’ll make him governor! But Jacob -Eaton--Jacob Eaton!” - -The old man was bewildered; he passed his hand over his face. Diana -said nothing; the night blurred itself into the rain. - - - - -XXV - - -IT was long past midnight when Mrs. Eaton went down-stairs for the -fourth time to see if her son had returned home. - -She was alone with the servants in the old Eaton house, which was -three miles from Broad Acres, and she had not ventured out in the -storm, which had been raging since early evening. The wind shook the -old house at intervals with the moan of autumn in the gale, yet the -roll of thunder recalled midsummer. Once she had looked out and, in a -blinding flash, saw the old cottonwoods in front of the house stripped -naked by the wind. There was a weird aspect to the world in that one -fierce moment of illumination, and the tumult of sounds without, the -creaking of the old house within, and the interminable ticking of the -clocks recalled to her shrinking mind a memory of that other night, -long ago, when she had been summoned home from Lexington, to find her -husband’s dead body in the long west room, and hear the whisperings -of the terrified servants on the stairs. She knew that even now the -negroes were locked in the wing, for they believed that on such nights -Eaton walked, demanding the blood of the Yarnalls, and since Yarnall’s -death, violent as his own, they had shrieked at shadows. - -Though she realized the folly of their superstitions, poor Jinny Eaton, -alone and vaguely terrified, shivered too. Once she caught herself -looking over her shoulder, and at last she cried hysterically. The -wind, sweeping a long branch against the window, rattled the pane, -and she started up, white with fright. In a sudden panic she rang for -her maid, but no one answered, though she heard the blurred sound -far in the distance; a glance at the clock told her it was nearly -two. There was no light except in the hall and the library, where -she herself had turned the electric switch, and she walked through -all the other dim rooms, starting at a shadow, and looking over her -shoulder when the floors creaked behind her. The house was much more -richly furnished than Broad Acres, and everywhere she was surrounded -with the luxuries that she loved. But alone there, in those desolate -hours before the dawn, poor Jinny found no comfort in the things -that had always seemed so comforting. In a vague way at first, and -constantly resisting even her own convictions, she had begun to feel -a doubt of Jacob,--Jacob, who had been almost omnipotent to her, who -had represented all her hopes and aspirations for years, and was, in -her own eyes, the achievement of her life. To have her faith in him -shaken was more bitter than death. And where was he? A premonition of -evil oppressed her, as she wandered from place to place in restless -unhappiness. Earlier in the night she had tried in vain to reach him -over the telephone: now her only resource was to wait. She went from -window to window, peeping out, her face drawn and haggard, and all -the well-preserved traces of her former beauty lost in her pathetic -dishevelment. She watched the morning dawn over the long fields that -smoked with moisture, and she saw the broken limbs of the trees and the -dead leaves that scurried before the wind, like the shriveled ghosts -of summer. Then, just as she had given up the vigil, and sank in a -disconsolate heap in the nearest chair, she heard his latch-key in the -door, and running into the hall fell on his neck in a fit of hysterical -weeping. - -“Oh, Jacob,” she sobbed, “where have you been?” - -“Don’t be silly!” he said crossly, and loosened her arms from his neck. -“I’m dead beat; where’s Davidson? I want something.” - -“The servants are not up yet,” his mother faltered. “I’ll get you some -whiskey and soda, dear, and I’ll ring up Davidson. I’ve been up all -night.” - -Jacob flung himself into a chair and sat there waiting for her to bring -the liquor and wait on him, as she had waited on him all his life. But, -if she thought of this at all, it was only with an alarmed perception -of the haggard moodiness of his expression. She saw that he had been -drinking heavily already, but she dared not deny him more, and, in a -way, she had faith in his own judgment in the matter. She had never -known him to drink more than he was able to bear, and she did not know -that Will Broughton said that Trench owed his life to Eaton’s tippling, -and steadier nerves and a firmer hand would have dealt certain death. -She came back at last, after a lengthy excursion to the pantry, and -brought him some refreshments, arranged hastily on a little tray by -hands so unaccustomed to any sick-room service that they were almost -awkward. She put the things down beside him on the table and fluttered -about, eager to help him and almost afraid of him, as she was in his -ungracious moods. But her desire for news, the certainty that he -could settle all her doubts, lent a pleasurable thrill of excitement -to her trepidation. Her news from the city had been vague, and the -announcement of Caleb’s acquittal had only filtered to her over a -belated telephone to the housekeeper, but here was the fountainhead of -all her information. - -Meanwhile Jacob drank the liquor, but scarcely tasted the food, and his -lowering expression disfigured his usually smooth good looks. He leaned -back in his chair, staring absently at the bottle, and saying nothing, -though he slowly closed and unclosed his hands, a trick of his when -angry or deeply distraught. His mother, seeing the gesture, experienced -another throb of dismay; something had happened, something which struck -at the root of things, but what? She fluttered to the window and -opening the shutter let in the pale gray light of morning, and as she -did it she heard the servants stirring in the wing. At last she could -endure suspense no longer. - -“For heaven’s sake, Jacob!” she cried, “what is the matter?” - -He gave her a sidelong look from under heavy lids and seemed to -restrain an impulse to speak out. “I suppose you know that rascal is -acquitted?” he said curtly. - -“I could scarcely believe it!” she replied, dropping into the chair -opposite and pushing back her long full sleeves and loosening the -ribbons at her throat, as if she suddenly felt the heat. “It seems -impossible--after your evidence, too, and Governor Aylett’s! That jury -must have been full of anarchists.” - -“Full of asses!” snapped Jacob. “I fancy that you don’t know that Diana -Royall got up on the witness-stand and made a public exhibition of -herself to clear him?” - -“Diana?” Mrs. Eaton could not believe her ears. - -“Yes, Diana,” mocked her son, “our Diana. She went on the stand and -created a sensation, took the court by storm and the city. Good Lord! -Her name’s in every club in the place.” - -“I--I can’t believe it!” gasped his mother: “it’s incredible--Diana -Royall?” - -“Incredible?” He rose, his face was white with fury. “Is it incredible? -Do you remember her mother?” - -Mrs. Eaton collapsed. “Jacob!” she breathed, “don’t! It makes me shiver -to think you might have married her.” - -“By God, I would to-day!” he cried, unable to restrain himself, “if -only to break her spirit, to make her pay for this!” - -“I can’t see what she knew,” Mrs. Eaton protested, “she--a young -girl--and all this awful scandal about Jean Bartlett in the papers. In -my day, a young girl would have been ashamed to show her face in the -court.” - -“Well, she wasn’t,” said Jacob dryly; “she appeared and told the court -that at the hour of the shooting she was alone with Caleb Trench in the -prisoners’ cage!” - -“Merciful heavens!” ejaculated Mrs. Eaton faintly, “was David crazy to -let her do it?” - -“He’s an old fool!” said Jacob fiercely, “a damned old fool!” - -Mrs. Eaton clasped her hands. “I’m only too thankful, Jacob, that you -never married her!” she said devoutly. - -“She’s refused me twice,” said Jacob grimly. - -His mother uttered an inarticulate sound. And at that instant Davidson, -an old gray-headed negro, appeared and Jacob called him. “Tell James -to pack my suit-case,” he said sharply. “I’m going to Lexington this -morning on the eight-forty.” - -“Doctor Cheyney’s at the doah, suh,” said Davidson, “and would like ter -see yo’.” - -“What does that old fool want, I wonder?” Jacob remarked, as he rose to -follow the negro into the hall. - -“What are you going so soon for, Jacob?” his mother asked tremulously, -“and can you--the bail--” - -“I’ve arranged that,” said Jacob shortly, and flung himself out of the -room. - -Dr. Cheyney was looking out from under the cover of his buggy, and old -Henk was breathing as if they had ascended the hill at an unusual gait. - -“Morning, Jacob,” said the doctor pleasantly, “I stopped by to leave -that book for your mother; Mrs. Broughton asked me to bring it when I -passed yesterday and I clean forgot it.” - -Jacob took the volume gingerly and looked politely bored. What in the -world did the old fool mean by bringing books before seven o’clock in -the morning? - -Dr. Cheyney gathered up the reins: conversation seemed improbable, but -he noticed that Davidson had gone back into the house. They were quite -alone under the leaden sky, and the fresh wind blew moist across their -faces. - -“By the way,” said the old man carelessly, “Judge Hollis has been with -Juniper all night and at six this morning I heard he had a confession.” - -Jacob looked up into the doctor’s eyes, his own narrowing. “Ah,” he -said, “I presume Judge Hollis makes out that Juniper did the shooting?” - -“Don’t know,” said Dr. Cheyney, slapping the reins on Henk’s broad -back, “heard there would be an arrest to-day,” and he drove slowly off, -the old wheels sinking in first one rut and then another, and jolting -the carriage from side to side. - -Jacob Eaton stood looking after it a minute, then he turned and went -into the house. It was now seven o’clock in the morning. - -That evening, at the corresponding hour, Colonel Royall and Diana -were dining alone at Broad Acres. The fact that Diana had been drawn -into an undesirable publicity through her unexpected connection with -the celebrated case troubled Colonel Royall profoundly. He was an -old-fashioned Southern gentleman, and believed devoutly in sheltering -and treasuring his beautiful daughter; every instinct had been jarred -upon by the mere fact of her appearance on the witness-stand, and the -circumstances, too, which made it practically his own fault. He blamed -himself for his carelessness in ignorantly leaving her in a room used -by the prisoners and, in fact, for taking her there at all. Yet he -fully sympathized with her in her courage. Behind it all, however, was -a memory which stung, and the knowledge that an old scandal is never -really too dead to rise, like a phœnix, from its ashes. - -All through the latter part of the summer the colonel had been unwell, -and lately Diana had watched him with deep concern. Dr. Cheyney -pooh-poohed her solicitude, said the colonel was as sound as a boy -of ten, and only advised a cheerful atmosphere. But Diana, sitting -opposite to him that day at dinner, saw how white and drawn his face -was, how pinched his lips, how absent his gentle blue eyes. She felt -a sudden overwhelming dread and found it difficult to talk and laugh -lightly, even when he responded with an eagerness that was an almost -pathetic attempt at his natural manner. - -They were just leaving the dining-room when Judge Hollis was announced, -and Diana was almost glad, even of this interruption, though she was -conscious of a sharp dread that they were to hear more of the trial. A -glance at the judge’s face as he stalked into the room confirmed this -impression; he was no longer wholly triumphant, his rugged jaw was -locked, and his shaggy brows hung low over his keen eyes. He walked -into the center of the room as usual and banged his hat down on the -table. - -“David,” he said abruptly, “how deep are you in with Jacob Eaton?” - -Colonel Royall leaned forward in his chair, his hands clasping the -arms. “Pretty well in,” he said simply, “unless he’s sold out my shares -for me. I asked it, but he didn’t do it last week.” - -“Oh, Lordy!” said the judge. - -Diana went around the table and put her hand on her father’s shoulder; -her young figure, drawn to its full height, seemed to stand between him -and impending misfortune. - -“Juniper confessed this morning,” said Judge Hollis harshly, forcing -himself to his unpleasant task. “He was hired by Jacob Eaton to stand -in the window of the court-room while Jacob fired from behind him and -killed Yarnall.” - -Colonel Royall rose and stood, white as ashes. “My God!” he said. - -Diana flung one arm around him. Judge Hollis stood looking at them a -moment, then he cleared his throat, choked and went on. - -“Caleb Trench to-day gave me the proofs that Aaron Todd and others have -collected in regard to the Eaton Investment Company. The shares are not -worth the paper they’re written on, the company is a name, a bubble, a -conspiracy. Not one cent will ever be recovered by the stockholders. -Before nine o’clock this morning Jacob Eaton jumped his bail and ran. -He can’t be found--he--” - -Diana suddenly stretched out a white arm before her father, as if she -warded off a blow. - -“Not another word, Judge,” she said sternly, “not a word--on your life!” - -Judge Hollis uttered an exclamation and went over to the colonel’s -side. “Royall,” he said, “I’m a brute--but it’s God’s truth.” - -“I know it,” said Colonel Royall, “and Jacob is of my blood--I feel the -disgrace. Hollis, I feel the disgrace!” and he sat down and covered his -face with his hands. - - - - -XXVI - - -TWO mornings later Dr. Cheyney finished his breakfast in abstracted -silence; not even Miss Lucinda’s best rice griddle-cakes calling -forth a word of approval. He had been talking over the telephone with -Diana Royall. He finished his perfunctory examination of the daily -paper, which was full of the flight of Jacob Eaton, the collapse of -the Eaton Investment Company, the ruin of many prominent citizens, -and the illness of Mrs. Eaton, who had been sent at once to a private -sanitarium in the city. - -The absorbing topic of Eaton had almost swallowed up the hitherto -absorbing topic of Caleb Trench, though Caleb once more loomed up, -directing the forces of the opposition. - -The doctor folded the paper viciously and put it in his pocket, then he -went out and climbed into his old buggy; he remembered quite distinctly -that other morning when he had climbed into it at six o’clock to -drive past the Eatons at a convenient hour. It might be said that the -old man was so hardened in kindly iniquity that his conscience never -suffered a single twinge. He and old Henk traveled more slowly up the -hill, however, than on that previous occasion. As he approached Broad -Acres he was struck with the dreary aspect of the autumn, and noticed -that even the house itself looked less cheerful. He had seen Colonel -Royall’s name on every quotation of losses in the Eaton Company, and he -drew his own conclusions. - -At the door Diana met him. She was very pale. - -“Dear Dr. Cheyney,” she said, holding out both hands, “it’s a relief to -see you! I couldn’t tell you over the ’phone--but--” She stopped, her -lips trembled. - -“What is it, Diana?” the old man asked gently. - -“You know the Shut Room?” She looked up imploringly. - -The silence of the house behind her seemed impenetrable; the long hall -was vacant. - -“I know,” said the doctor, and Diana understood that he knew even more -than she did. - -“He’s been sitting there alone; he will not let me stay with him,” she -explained. - -Dr. Cheyney stood a moment in some doubt, his hand at his chin in -a familiar attitude of thought. His gospel refused to intrude into -the confidence of any one, but there were cases where it might be an -absolute necessity to interfere; the question which confronted him was -whether or not this was one of these rare instances. - -“How long has it been?” he asked finally. - -“Two whole days,” replied Diana, “and he has scarcely eaten a mouthful. -This morning he took only one cup of coffee; he looks like death. And -you know how it is,--that room always affects him so, he never seems -himself after he has been there. Sometimes,” she added passionately, -“sometimes--I wish I could wall it up!” - -“I wish you could!” said Dr. Cheyney devoutly. - -“He sits there and looks out of the window: and twice he has forbidden -me to come there,” Diana went on. “What can I do? It--it breaks my -heart to see him so, and I’m sure my mother would not wish it, but he -will not listen to that.” - -The old doctor’s lips came together in a sharp line: without another -word he turned and went up the stairs, reluctance in his step. At the -landing was a stained glass window, the work of a famous European -artist, and the doctor glanced at it with a certain weariness: -personally he preferred plate glass and a long glimpse of level fields. -He had reached the head of the second broad flight now, and the second -door to the left of the wide hall was ajar, the door which was usually -shut and locked. Where the doctor stood he could see across the room, -for one of the window shutters was open, and it looked still as it -had looked twenty-three years before, when Diana was born. There were -the same soft and harmonious coloring, the same rich old furniture, -the deep-hued Turkey rug on the polished floor, the spotless ruffled -curtains. It was unchanged. Life may change a thousand times while -these inanimate things remain to mock us with their endurance. The -doctor moved resolutely forward and pushed open the door. Colonel -Royall was sitting erect in a high-backed chair in the center of the -room, his hands clasping the arms, his head bowed, and his kindly blue -eyes staring straight before him. He was singularly pale and seemed -to have aged twenty years. Dr. Cheyney walked slowly across the room -and laid his hand on his old friend’s shoulder,--they had been boys -together. - -“Is it as bad as that, Davy?” he asked. - -Colonel Royall roused himself with an apparent effort, and looked up -with an expression in which patient endurance and great grief were -strongly mingled. There was a touch, too, of dignity and reluctance -in his manner, yet if he resented the doctor’s intrusion he was too -courteous to show it. “I’m pretty hard hit, William,” he said simply, -“pretty hard hit all around; there’s not much more to be said--that -hasn’t been said already on the street corners and in the market-place.” - -His wounded pride showed through his manner without destroying his -delicate restraint. - -The doctor drew a chair beside him and sat down unasked. His -sympathy was a beautiful thing and needed no voicing; it reached out -imperceptible feelers and made him intuitively aware of the raw cut -where not even tenderness may lay a finger. - -“It’s not all gone, David?” he inquired. - -Colonel Royall ran his fingers through his thick white hair. “Pretty -much all, William,” he said mechanically; “the place here is free, -unmortgaged, I mean, and I reckon I can hold the property in Virginia, -but the rest--” He raised his hands with a significant and pathetic -gesture; he had fine old hands, and they had saved and directed from -his youth up until now--to this end! To have trusted too deeply to an -unworthy relative. William Cheyney leaned back in his chair; the awful -actuality of the calamity was borne in upon him, and he remembered, -even at that moment, his feeling of confidence in the stability of -Colonel Royall’s fortune, though, sometimes, he had doubted the -colonel’s money sense. There was sometimes, too, a terrible synchronism -between ruin and mental collapse. He looked keenly at the old man -before him, who seemed suddenly shrunken and gray, and he was troubled -by the absent expression of the mild blue eyes; it was almost a look of -vacancy. He laid his hand tenderly on the other’s arm. - -“Davy, man,” he said, “cheer up; there are worse things than financial -losses.” - -The colonel recalled himself apparently from very distant scenes and -gazed at him reproachfully. “No one can know that better than I,” he -said, with a touch of bitterness. - -The doctor stretched out his hand with a bowed head. “Forgive me, -David,” he said simply. - -“There’s nothing to forgive,” replied Colonel Royall. “I let you say -things, William, that other men could not say to me. But this is a -bitter hour; my youth was not idle, I never knew an idle day, and I -laid up a fortune in place of my father’s competence; I wanted to spend -my old age in peace, and I trusted my affairs to a rogue. By gum, I -hate to call my cousin’s son a rascal, but it seems he is! Not half the -burden, though, lies in my own loss; it’s the thought of all these poor -people he has ruined. Women and girls and old men who had savings--all -gone in the Eaton Investment Company. What was it Caleb Trench stated -about that company? It seems as if I couldn’t understand it all, -I’m--I’m dizzy!” The colonel touched his forehead apprehensively. - -The doctor regarded him thoughtfully over his spectacles, but he made -no reservations. “Well, there isn’t any investment company; that’s -about the size of it, David,” he said reluctantly. “People bought their -shares and got--waste paper. They say Jacob used lots of the money -campaigning; it isn’t charged that he wanted it for himself.” - -“I’ve always held that blood was thicker than water,” said Colonel -Royall, “and Jacob is a thief--a thief, sir!” he added, putting aside -an interruption from the doctor with a wide sweep of the hand. “He’s -robbed hundreds in this State because his name, his family, stood for -honesty, business reputation, honor--and once I thought him fit to be -my confidant!” - -“We’re all deceived sometimes, David,” said the doctor soothingly, -watching him with his keen skillful look, “we’re not omniscient; if we -were, there’d be a lot more folks in jail, I reckon. I wouldn’t take -it to heart; Jacob was on his own responsibility; they can’t blame -you.” - -“They ought to,” declared the colonel passionately. “I’m an old man, -I’m his relative; it was my business to know what he was doing. And -there’s poor Jinny! I wanted her to come here, so did Diana, and you -packed her off to a sanitarium.” - -“To be sure,” said Dr. Cheyney grimly; “there’s no need of having three -lunatics instead of one. Jinny’s nerves were about wrecked, she needs -quiet, and she’ll come out well enough; it’s not Jinny I’m worried -about. You let Jacob go, don’t you shoulder Jacob; no one thinks you’re -to blame!” - -Colonel Royall let his clenched hand fall on the arm of his chair. “The -disgrace of it!” he said, and his lips trembled. “I’ve had my share of -disgrace, William!” - -Dr. Cheyney rose abruptly and walked to the window. Through the open -shutter he could see, from this side of the house, the distant river, -and near at hand was a tall jingo tree, yellow as gold with autumn. The -other trees stood half naked against the sky. Below him a few white -chickens strayed on the lawn unrebuked. - -“You see more of the river since the railroad cut that last crossing,” -Colonel Royall remarked irrelevantly, “and have you noticed how late -the jingo stays in leaf? It was so the year that--” He stopped. - -The doctor turned and fixed an irate eye upon him. - -Colonel Royall was leaning forward, his eyes fixed absently on the -window, yet he had felt instinctively the doctor’s attitude. “It may be -folly,” he pleaded, as if in extenuation, “but I don’t want the place -changed; it was like this when she was happy here and”--his head sank -lower--“I’ve got to sell it! I’ve got to sell it--oh, my God!” - -The doctor went over and took hold of him. “Davy!” he said fiercely, -“Davy, you’ve got to get out of here! I’m glad it’s to be sold; have -done with it! You’ve got to eat and drink and sleep or you’ll--” - -He stopped, his hands still on his old friend’s, for Colonel Royall had -slipped gently into unconsciousness, and lay white and helpless in the -high-backed chair. - - - - -XXVII - - -IT was late that night before Dr. Cheyney drove away from Broad -Acres. Colonel Royall had rallied a little, and the doctor and the -servants had put him to bed, not in the Shut Room, but in his own old -four-poster that had belonged to his mother. - -Before the doctor went away he had sent for a trained nurse and -received and answered telegrams for Diana, who would not leave her -father. At half-past ten the old doctor drove up to his own door, -overtaxed and weary. As he climbed down from his old buggy his quick -eye detected a brighter light than usual in his study window, and Miss -Lucinda Colfax met him at the door. - -“There’s been a lady waiting to see you for two hours,” she whispered, -pointing mysteriously at the study door. - -The doctor sighed as he slipped off his overcoat. It was some belated -patient, of course, and a stranger, or Miss Lucinda would have named -her. He looked pale and worn, and his white head was bowed a little -with care, and the thought of old David, whom he loved, as he opened -the study door and came into the circle of light from the student’s -lamp on the table. A fire burned on the hearth, and a woman sat in -the great old-fashioned winged chair before it. As he entered she rose -and stood facing him. There was a certain grace and ease in the tall -figure and the black gown, but she wore a thick veil covering both her -large hat and her face and throat. She made a movement, an involuntary -one, it seemed, as the old man came toward her, and she saw the pallor -and age in his face, a face which was full of a rare sweetness and -strength. But, whatever her first impulse was, the sight of him seemed -to arrest it, to turn it aside, and she drew back, laying her hand on -the high chair and saying nothing. - -“I am sorry that you had to wait so long, madam,” Dr. Cheyney said, -“but I was with a very sick man. What can I do for you? Will you be -seated?” he added, drawing forward another chair. - -“Thank you,” she replied in a low voice, sinking into the chair by -which she stood. “I wanted to speak to you--about--about--some old -friends.” - -“Ah?” The doctor looked curiously at the veil. He could not distinguish -a feature under it, but he seemed to be aware of the feverish -brightness of her eyes. - -“I--I used to know people here,” she began and stopped, hesitating. - -He did not offer to help her. - -“I was born near here; I used to know you.” She leaned forward, -clasping her hands on her knee, and he noticed that her fingers -trembled. - -“I am an old man and forgetful,” he said pleasantly; “you must jog my -memory. Who are the friends you wish to ask for?” - -“Friends?” she repeated in a strange voice. - -“You said friends,” he replied mildly. - -She turned her face toward him, lifting her veil. “Don’t you know me?” -she asked abruptly. - -Dr. Cheyney, looking over the tops of his spectacles, eyed her gravely. -It was a handsome face, slightly pale, with large eyes and full red -lips, beautiful, no doubt, in its first youth, but lined now and -hardened, with an indefinable expression which was elusive, fluttering, -passionate, and most of all unhappy. The old man shook his head. She -rose from her seat and crossing the room quickly, laid her large white -hand on his arm. She was close to him now; he could see her breathing -stir the laces on her bosom, and was sharply conscious of the agitation -that possessed her and seemed to thrill her very touch upon his sleeve. -She looked into his eyes, her own wild and sorrowful. - -“Is it possible? Don’t you know me?” - -He returned her gaze sorrowfully, his face changing sharply. “Yes,” he -said soberly, after a moment, “I do now, Letty.” - -“Letty!” She bit her lips, with a little hard sob, and her fingers fell -from his arm. “My God!” she cried, “how it all comes back! No one has -called me that in twenty years.” - -Dr. Cheyney made no responsive movement or gesture; he stood looking -at her quietly, curiously, a little sadly. He noted the dignity of -figure, and certain fine lines of beauty that had rather matured than -diminished, yet the change in her was for the worse in his eyes. -Whatever there had been of passion and vanity and waywardness in her -face in her youth had crystallized with maturity; there was a palpable -worldliness in her manner which sharpened his conception of her as she -must be now. The long gap in the years since he had known her as she -was, until now, when she must be another person, was opened suddenly by -the realization of the change in her, and it seemed to him that only -a woman could change so much. Deeply moved herself, she was only half -conscious of the criticism of his glance; she came back across the room -after a moment and stood beside him, looking at the falling embers, the -glow of the fire acting weirdly in its illumination of her face. - -“Tell me about him,” she said in a low voice; “I know he has lost -nearly everything.” - -Dr. Cheyney’s lips tightened a little, and he frowned. “Why do you want -to know?” he asked gravely. - -She blushed deeply and painfully. “You mean I have no right?” - -He nodded, looking at the fire. - -“Perhaps, I haven’t,” she admitted quickly, pleadingly. “But there is -Diana--has he made her hate me?” - -“She thinks you dead,” Dr. Cheyney replied quietly. - -“Dead?” She shuddered, looking up with frightened eyes. Then her face -blazed angrily. “What right had he to do it? What right--to make her -believe a falsehood?” - -The old man’s eyes met hers gravely, rebukingly. “Wasn’t it the best -way, Letty?” he asked gently. - -Her blush deepened again, her brow, her chin, even her throat were -crimson. She bit her quivering lip until the blood came. “You are very -cruel,” she said bitterly, “you righteous people!” - -Dr. Cheyney leaned heavily on the mantel, his eyes on the fire. “Would -you have had us tell a little innocent child that, Letty? Tell her that -her mother had deserted her and brought shame upon her?” - -“Do you mean that she has never known?” she cried, amazed. - -“Never. David did not wish her to know, and we respected his wish. She -believes her mother died when she was three years old; she even has a -deep and constant tenderness for the Shut Room.” - -She looked at him bewildered. “I do not understand.” - -“Your room,” he explained simply; “he closed the door on it that -day, and for twenty years it has been unchanged. Yesterday I saw the -very book you laid face downwards on the table, the handkerchief you -dropped. He has mourned you as dead. In his gentleness, his humility, -his greatness of soul, he chooses to believe you died that day. He -loved you before it, he has loved and mourned you ever since. No one -has ever heard a reproach from his lips, no one ever will. You broke -his heart.” - -She covered her face with her hands and burst into tears. - -The old man stood looking at her unmoved, though the storm of her -emotion shook her from head to foot. Still weeping, she threw herself -into the chair by the fire and bowed her head on her arms. - -“It is twenty years,” she said at last, “and I have suffered--have you -never forgiven me, William Cheyney?” - -The old man’s face saddened yet more deeply. “There was nothing for me -to forgive; we all had his great example.” - -She looked up with swimming eyes, her lips twitching with pain. “It’s -twenty years--he married me after David got the divorce, you knew that?” - -The doctor nodded. - -“He’s dead. Oh, he knew I had suffered, he wearied of me, and now he’s -dead and I’m all alone. Oh, don’t you understand?” she held out both -hands toward him, “don’t you know why I came?” - -The old man shook his head sadly. “God knows,” he said. - -“I want Diana!” she cried, “I want my daughter--I want her love!” - -Dr. Cheyney looked at her thoughtfully. “She’s twenty-three, Letty,” he -said simply, “and she loves her father.” - -She winced, turning her eyes from his to the fire. “I have seen her,” -she said, in subdued tones, “once or twice when she did not know it. -She looks--don’t you think she looks as I did?” she added eagerly. - -“No,” he said sternly, “no, she’s like David’s mother.” - -She flushed angrily. “Oh, never!” she exclaimed. “She is like me--but -you won’t admit it.” - -Dr. Cheyney shook his head. - -Disappointed, she dropped her chin into her hand and looked again into -the fire. “David has lost everything,” she said after a moment. “I -know, I heard in New York.” - -Dr. Cheyney, looking down at her, wondered what her secret thought -was, how far remorse had touched her? “I’m afraid he’s badly hit,” he -admitted slowly. - -She rose and went to him, her hands trembling. “Help me,” she said with -feverish eagerness, “help me to get Diana. I want her to come to me; I -can take care of her. It would help him, too. Oh, don’t you see I could -do that much?” - -The old doctor’s penetrating eyes met hers. “You can take care of her,” -he repeated; “you were not wealthy, Letty; have you grown so?” - -“You have always been hard in your judgment of me,” she cried bitterly. -“I am not a bad woman--I know, oh, I know I sinned! I married David so -young; I found out my mistake, and when Fenwick came--I loved him, I -ran away from my husband and my child, I was wicked--oh, I know it! -But I suffered. I am not poor. He left me well off, almost rich. I have -a right to it, he married me, I am his widow.” - -Dr. Cheyney said nothing; he moved away from her a little and again -leant his elbow on the mantel. - -“Will you help me, will you go to Diana?” she pleaded, following him -with sorrowful eyes. - -He shook his head. “Never!” - -She wrung her hands unconsciously. “You think I have no right to Diana?” - -“Have you?” he asked quietly. - -She hung her head, and the intensity of her suffering touched him -without shaking his resolve. - -“Have you any right to spend a dollar of that money on her?” he added; -“surely you know that she could not receive it?” - -There was a long silence. She turned, and hiding her face against the -high back of the chair, sobbed convulsively. “You want to rob me of the -last thing I have in the world!” she said at last. - -“You deserted her,” he replied more gently. - -She raised her face, wet with her passionate tears, and held out both -hands to him. “Will you help me, will you tell her I am not dead? I am -her mother; she has a right to know it.” - -Dr. Cheyney still regarded her. “He is very ill, Letty,” he said, “he -may die; would you rob him of his daughter?” - -“No, oh, no!” she cried impetuously, “but I--I want her, too; I have -wanted her for twenty years. Oh, Dr. Cheyney, there is joy in heaven -over one sinner that repenteth!” - -“Diana will not go with you,” he said quietly. “I know it, and if she -would, I would not tell her.” - -“You refuse?” She leaned forward, still holding the chair with one hand -and the other pressed against her heart. - -“Absolutely.” - -She shivered. “Cruel!” she whispered bitterly. - -He turned to his medicine cabinet and began to unlock the door. “Stay a -moment,” he said kindly, “you need something, you will be ill.” - -But she fastened her wraps at her throat and let her veil fall over her -face again. “I am not ill,” she said bitterly, “only heart-broken.” - -He urged her to taste the cordial in his hand, but she put it aside and -went to the door. The old man followed her. - -“Letty,” he said, “David Royall is very ill; do not lay another sin -against him on your conscience.” - -She had opened the door and, at his words, turned and laid her cheek -against the lintel with a hard dry sob. “I will see Diana,” she said. - -The doctor made no reply; his quick ear had caught the sound of a step -on the veranda, and almost at the same moment Caleb Trench appeared in -the lighted space before the open door. - -“What is it, Caleb?” the doctor asked quickly. - -The young man glanced at the tall woman who still leaned against the -door. “I’ve just got back from town,” he said, “and I wanted to ask you -about Colonel Royall. I hear that he is ill.” - -The woman started and drew away, and Caleb saw it. - -Dr. Cheyney shook his head apprehensively. “Very ill,” he said; “he was -taken with a sinking spell about noon. Come in, Caleb, and I’ll tell -you about it.” - -Trench stood aside to let the veiled woman pass out, and then he -followed Dr. Cheyney into the study with a face of some anxiety. He -looked worn and old for his years, but resolutely calm. “How do you -think he really is?” he asked. - -Dr. Cheyney sank down into his easy-chair by the fire. “I’m not sure -that he’ll live,” he said despondently. - -Trench frowned, making an inarticulate sound. The firelight flared on -his face now, and its expression was significant. Dr. Cheyney bent down -and began a desultory search for his carpet slippers; even in the most -interesting moments of life, physical discomforts pinch the unwary, and -the old man’s feet ached. “He’s worn out, broken-hearted,” he said, -referring to his old friend and removing his boots absently. “He’s -taken this affair to heart, too.” - -“Jacob Eaton?” - -The doctor nodded. “Smooth young scamp,” he said bitterly, “I always -wanted to deal out the husks to him, but I reckon he’ll get ’em in the -Lord’s good time. It’s pretty bad, I suppose, Caleb.” - -“Worse than we thought,” replied Caleb. “The Harrisons’ bank closed its -doors to-night; he’s wrecked it and there’s a terrible panic in the -city. I wonder if he took much with him?” - -“All he could get, I reckon,” mused the doctor, his mind dwelling not -on Jacob but on Letty, and the climax which he saw impending. - -Meanwhile Caleb Trench sat staring into the fire. “I’m afraid Colonel -Royall will suffer heavily,” he said; “he wasn’t so deeply involved, it -appears, but--as soon as he heard of the wide-spread ruin--he offered -to redeem a number of Jacob Eaton’s pledges. His offer was accepted, -the papers signed, and now all these claims are rolling up. I honor -him for what he did,” Trench added simply; “it was noble, but it was -quixotic. I fear greatly for the consequences.” - -Dr. Cheyney settled himself back in his winged chair and put the tips -of his fingers together. “I think likely he’ll escape it all,” he -remarked gravely; “he was unconscious twenty minutes to-day and David -isn’t as young as he was. He may be fortunate enough to pass beyond -this trouble.” - -Trench moved uneasily, then he rose and stood, his back to the fire. -“And Miss Royall?” he said. - -“She’s with her father,” replied Dr. Cheyney. “Caleb, I never saw -anything so fine as she was at your trial.” - -Trench was silent for a moment, and his face in the shadow eluded -scrutiny. “I would have given my right hand to save her that -notoriety,” he said at last. - -Dr. Cheyney looked thoughtful, but there was the shadow of a smile -in the depths of his mild eyes. “You’ve never asked me to finish my -testimony,” he remarked. “I’m in the possession of a secret that would -clear up all this scandal about poor little Sammy; I’ve waited three -weeks and you don’t ask me. I wonder if you’re human, Caleb Trench?” - -Trench swung around and faced him. The expression of his face, its -power and its mastery and self-control had never been more poignant. -“Dr. Cheyney,” he said, “it doesn’t concern me; let them say what they -please.” - -“On my soul!” said Dr. Cheyney, “I won’t tell you! You’re too pesky -proud to live. I reckon they’ll say all you want and more too, young -man.” - -“Let them!” said Caleb. - - - - -XXVIII - - -IT was two days after this that Judge Hollis came into Caleb’s little -office and found him at work in his shirt sleeves. The table and desk -were covered with papers and open telegrams. The judge eyed the place -critically. Order showed in the neat pigeonholes and the rows of packed -shelves. - -“In two years you’ll have me beat,” remarked the judge, “then I’ll take -down my shingle.” - -Caleb smiled wearily. “You forget that this only shows how far -behindhand I am,” he replied; “you were never on trial for your life, -Judge.” - -The old man shook his head. “No,” he said, “and I was never the most -conspicuous figure in the State. Caleb, you’ve been threatened?” - -“Some letters, yes,” the younger man admitted, without emotion, “from -cranks, I fancy.” - -“No,” said the judge flatly, “there’s feeling. Some of these ignorant -people have got a notion that your campaign against Eaton, your attack -on his company, destroyed his credit and drove him to the wall. They’ve -got the idea that he’d have saved himself, and their investments, if -you’d let him be. They’re wild about it; money loss goes to the quick, -when a man can’t pay for his bacon he wants a scapegoat. The better -sort know it’s not your doing, and, I’ll say it for ’em, the newspapers -have been decent, but there’s feeling, Caleb; you’d better go armed.” - -Caleb laughed. “Judge, I was bred a Quaker. I only used my pistol here -in self-defense; I never went out with one in my pocket in my life.” - -The judge rubbed his chin. “You’d better now,” he remarked shortly. - -Caleb leaned back in his chair and looked out of the window -thoughtfully. “I wonder what my father would have said to his son -carrying weapons?” he reflected, amused. - -“Good deal better than to get a hole in you,” the judge retorted; “you -know how to use it!” - -Trench colored. “My blood was up, Judge,” he said, “a mob’s a cowardly -thing; I never felt such disgust in my life.” - -“Humph!” ejaculated the judge eloquently. - -Caleb smiled involuntarily. “I don’t think there’s any danger,” he said -pleasantly. - -“Of course not!” snapped the judge. “Trench, why don’t you clear up -this talk about that kid in yonder? Cheyney knows who the father is; -make him tell. By the Lord Harry,” he added, thumping the table with -his fist, “I wanted it out in court.” - -Caleb Trench turned slightly away, his face inscrutable. “Judge,” he -said, “I wouldn’t stir a finger. I took in the kid just as I took in -the dog. Let them talk.” - -The judge stared at him angrily, uncomprehendingly. “I reckon you’re a -crank,” he said; “you’re worse than David Royall.” - -“How is the colonel to-day?” Caleb asked, to change the subject; he -knew, for he had asked Dr. Cheyney over the telephone. - -“He’s better,” retorted the judge shortly; “you’re not, and you’ll be -worse if you don’t watch out. There are snakes in the grass.” - -Caleb smiled. “Judge,” he said, “if I listened to any one in the world -I would to you; I’m not ungrateful.” - -“Nonsense!” retorted the judge, and jammed his hat down harder than -usual. - -At the door he stopped and waved his cane aggressively. “I’ve warned -you,” he said harshly, “and if you were not an idiot, sir, you’d make -Cheyney speak. It’s some dratted crank of his about his professional -honor!” - -“How about a lawyer’s, Judge?” asked Caleb, amused. - -“Humph!” grunted the old man, and went out and slammed the door. - -Later that afternoon business took Caleb up to Cresset’s Corners to see -Aaron Todd. He had been twice to Broad Acres to inquire for Colonel -Royall without seeing Diana; he had refrained from asking for her. Dr. -Cheyney had told him that she would not leave her father, and he knew -that, as yet, he could scarcely express all he felt about the ordeal -of her testimony. He had forborne to account for that time to spare -her the publicity of the witness-stand, and his very silence only -made her evidence more significant. To see her and thank her without -saying all that was in his heart was no easy matter. He had driven -back his love for her, and battled against it, denied it a right to -exist, because he knew that she regarded him as an inferior. But now, -by her own act, when she acknowledged him as her friend and defended -him at the cost of a hundred uncharitable rumors, it seemed that he -might have misunderstood her natural pride of birth and affluence for -a repugnance to his poverty. When their eyes met in the court-room -with that inevitable shock of mutual feeling that leaves a startled -certainty behind it, he had felt almost sure that she loved him. But -since then he had plunged back again into his old doubts, arguing -that her testimony had been merely a matter of duty, and that his own -feeling had deceived him into imagining that her heart was likewise -touched. He had no right to suppose that her evidence was otherwise -than involuntary, the exact rendering of the truth to save a man’s -life. If he went further and believed that she loved him, he was -overstepping the bounds of probability. Love is an involuntary passion, -says an honored moralist: we cannot help it, but we can starve it -out. And Caleb had set himself to starve it out but it may be said -that he found the battle an unequal one. He was like a man who had -walked persistently, and of his own choice, in a sullen fog, and saw -suddenly, through a vast rent in the mist, the golden sunshine of -another day. The fog of his doubts and his unbelief had lifted on that -afternoon in court, only to settle down again in denser gloom. - -Meanwhile, the tumult of battle went on. He was once more leading the -anti-Eaton forces, leading them triumphantly now, and crash after crash -in financial circles told of the complete collapse of that bubble -which had been called the Eaton Investment Company. There is no keener -incentive to anger than money loss, as Judge Hollis said; there were -many who cried out against Caleb as the instigator of an investigation -which had culminated in almost universal ruin in the county. The wave -of popularity that had swept around him at the hour of his acquittal -was receding, and leaving him beached on the sands of public criticism. - -None of these things, however, greatly troubled the man himself; he -pursued his course with the same determination with which he had begun -it. He had foreseen unpopularity and met it with unshaken purpose. What -immediately concerned him was his plain duty, and his experience at -the time of his arrest and trial had inspired him with a pessimistic -unbelief in the clamorous plaudits of the masses. For, in a day, he -had dropped from the height of the popularity of his Cresset speech to -the degradation of a despised and suspected prisoner. Like all those -who have tasted the vicissitudes of life, they had no longer the same -terrors for him. He was stronger in his position now than ever, his -reputation was already growing beyond the borders of the State, but he -was less popular in doing an unwelcome duty than he had been as the -exponent of the new theories of investigation. A vivid recollection -of all that had passed in the last few weeks stirred his mind as he -walked up the trail to Broad Acres. Shot, who had become devoted to -Sammy, had followed him only a little way and then returned to his new -playmate, so Caleb was alone. He had avoided the road and ascended the -trail, because the woodland solitudes left his mind free to his own -meditations, and the bleak and russet aspect of the woods, the naked -trees and the brown leaves underfoot, in some delicate and subtle -manner, harmonized with his sober mood. The keen blue of the river -below him and the purple of the distant hills rested his eyes. He swung -on, his long easy stride carrying him fast, and in a few moments he -saw Kingdom-Come leaning on the fence at the side of the Broad Acres -vegetable garden. The negro was stripping the leaves off a cauliflower -and gazing curiously at Caleb Trench. - -“How’s the colonel?” Caleb asked, stopping a moment, and his glance -wandered toward the old house where even the jingo tree had dropped its -last golden leaves upon the grass. - -“He’s bettah, suh,” said Kingdom, “so de doctah says. I’se not so sure; -seems mighty po’ly ter me, Mistah Trench.” - -Caleb remembered that a negro never admits perfect health and felt -reassured. “Say to the colonel that I would be glad to be of any -service to him,” he said, and wanted to add Diana’s name but restrained -the impulse. - -“I sho will, Mistah Trench,” said Kingdom. “Cool day, suh, gwine ter be -cold, too; de moon dun hangs ter de north.” - -“I suppose that’s an infallible sign,” smiled Trench, as he turned away. - -“Fo’ de Lawd, ain’t yo’ nebber heerd dat?” Kingdom patted the -cauliflower affectionately, having squared off the remaining green -petals. “De moon hung north means cold, suh, an’ south et means hot, -jest ez sho’ ez yo’ gets er disappintment ef yo hangs annything on er -doah knob.” - -“I’ll try to remember both signs,” said Caleb good-naturedly. - -“Miss Diana’s up in de woods,” volunteered the negro, with that -innocence which sits so naturally on a black face. - -Caleb made no reply this time. He walked on, choosing the road, nor did -he look again toward the house. He had the unpleasant consciousness -that the negro had read him as easily as he himself read more profound -riddles in the exact sciences. - -He passed the last confines of Broad Acres and turned, involuntarily, -into the trail which led him to the spot where he had stood months -before with Diana and told her that he loved her. Afterwards he -had wondered at himself, that his pride had not revolted at the -confession, yet he had never altogether repented of it. There had been -some comfort in telling her the truth, the naked truth. He recalled the -look in her eyes in the court-room! He put that thought steadily away -and walked rapidly on. Another turn would show him the long glimpse of -Paradise Ridge. Before him the trail ascended under sweeping hemlock -boughs, beside him the brush rose breast high. Once he thought he heard -a crackle of twigs and turned sharply, but there was no one in sight. -Then, looking ahead, he saw Diana Royall. - -She was coming down the path alone, and the sunset sky behind her -darkened the outlines of her tall young figure until it was silhouetted -against the sky. He noticed that her dress was gray and that her large -black hat framed the fair oval of her face. As she drew nearer he -was aware of the gravity and sweetness of her expression. As yet the -distance was too great for speech and he did not hurry his step; there -was, perhaps, more joy in the thought of this meeting than in its -accomplishment. But he saw nothing but this picture, the mellow sky -behind it, the hemlock boughs above. - -Then, quite suddenly, he felt a stinging shock and heard a loud report, -as he reeled and fell back into darkness, the vision going out as -though a great black sponge had effaced life itself. - -Diana rushed to him; she had seen more than he, but no warning of hers -would have reached him in time, and now she did not think of herself, -or of any possible danger. She dropped on her knees beside him and -bent down to look into his face. His eyes were closed; she could not -tell if he breathed, and even while she looked she saw a dark red -stain on the breast of his coat. She uttered a low cry, and tried to -raise his head on her arm. She realized at last the power that his -very presence exerted, the influence that he had had over her from the -very first, that had made her yield again and again to a sense of his -mastery. She loved him. She no longer tried to deny it to herself, and -she felt that it was to her shame that no accusation against him could -shake her in her devotion. Whatever he had been she loved him; whatever -his faults, in her eyes there must be, there would be, an extenuation; -whatever his sins she could forgive them! Class prejudice counted for -nothing; she was his, and nothing in the world mattered to her in that -one blind moment of agony for his life. - -“Oh, God,” she prayed softly, “spare me this!” - -She was in despair, his head lay heavy on her arm, his blood stained -her hands, and she was alone. The wind stirred and a dead leaf -fluttered down. How still it was! To leave him and run for help seemed -her only resource, but to leave him! She could not do it! She thought -him dead, but not a tear came to her dry eyes; she looked down at his -white face and marked the lines of trouble and anxiety, the resolution -of the locked mouth and jaw. Did he breathe? “Oh, God!” she prayed -again. - -She remembered, too, that it was here that he had told her so abruptly -that he loved her. She, too, remembered that moment in the court-room, -and a dry sob of anguish shook her from head to foot. She bent down -suddenly and kissed him, but she could not shed a tear. - -Then, in the stillness, she heard wheels, and laying him gently down, -she ran through the underbrush and reached the road just below the -fork. It was Dr. Cheyney’s old buggy, and she cried to him that Caleb -Trench was shot and lying wounded in the trail. The old man got down -and followed her without a word, his lips set. They came up the trail -and found Trench lying as she had left him; he did not seem to breathe. -Dr. Cheyney knelt down and made a brief examination, then he looked -for something to stop the bleeding. Diana gave him a long light scarf -she had worn around her throat; she was quick and deft in her touch -and worked steadily to help the doctor; she had mastered herself. The -old man fumbling over Caleb drew out a bit of blood-stained paper and -glanced at it. Then he went on with his task. - -“Is he living?” Diana murmured at last. - -“I reckon I wouldn’t do this if he wasn’t,” snapped the doctor. Then he -rose from his knees. “You get into the buggy, Diana, and drive down to -the house for help; telephone to the hospital, we’ll want a stretcher.” - -“He’s coming to our house,” said Diana. - -Dr. Cheyney gave her a grim look. “All right,” he said, “but a -stretcher and two men. I wonder who in hell did this?” he added -fiercely. - -Diana had risen from her knees. “Zeb Bartlett,” she said. “I saw him -too late to cry a warning.” - -Dr. Cheyney’s face changed sharply. He handed the paper he had taken -from Trench to Diana. “I reckon that’s yours--now run!” he commanded. - -It seemed hours to Diana before she got help there. In reality it was -twenty minutes. The negroes improvised a stretcher and carried Caleb -solemnly down the hill and across the long lawns. Diana had gone ahead -to prepare the great west room for him, and when they brought him in, -still unconscious, the white bed was ready and the long table for -the operation, and she had telephoned for another surgeon from the -hospital. At eight o’clock that night they had found the bullet and -removed it, and there was a fighting chance for life. - -Diana, who had waited on the stairs to know the worst, said nothing. -In her own room she had looked at the blood-stained paper which Dr. -Cheyney had so strangely given her. Across it was written her own name -in her bold handwriting. She looked at it strangely, and then with a -stinging sense of shame; it was the receipt for six cents with which -she had mocked him long ago. And he had carried it all this time! Diana -laid her head down on her arms and burst into tears. - - - - -XXIX - - -THE agony of the night and the ensuing morning left Diana feeling -lifeless. Her only consolation was in the fact that her father was able -to be up and in his chair, and by nine o’clock they had received a -message that poor Jinny Eaton showed signs of recovering her senses. Of -Jacob nothing was heard, to her great relief. A trial and imprisonment -would have capped the climax of Colonel Royall’s mortification. She -did not know that Dr. Cheyney had saved her that. Nor did she tell the -doctor, nor any one, that she and Kingdom-Come had gone down the night -before to Caleb’s house to see to the welfare of Sammy and the dog. - -She had found Aunt Charity there and bribed her heavily to stay over -night, but Diana had no faith in Charity and another project was -shaping itself in her mind. She would have liked to consult her father, -but she could not trouble him and the trials of the last few months had -been developing Diana. All that was sweet and malleable in the girl’s -nature had crystallized into greater strength, and a greater sweetness, -too; she was no longer a girl, but a woman, and her greatness of -heart showed in the breadth of her charity. She had sat down in the -old leather chair in Caleb’s office and lifted Jean Bartlett’s child -to her knee without a shudder of repulsion at that shameful story. -Instead, she touched the child’s head tenderly and crooned over it, -womanlike. Oh, if Caleb could have seen her in the old worn chair! - -Her own thoughts were filled with him to the exclusion of everything -else on earth. She was almost frightened at the strength of her feeling -for him, he seemed even to put aside her anxiety for her father, his -life was her one passionate petition to Heaven. And she was conscious -now that she wanted not only his life, but his love. - -Dr. Cheyney had installed a trained nurse, and there was a young -surgeon from the hospital in charge. Diana’s only privilege was to go -to the door and inquire, and wait upon the doctors. She did this to the -exclusion of the negroes, who considered it their duty to remonstrate -with Miss Diana. In the afternoon Dr. Cheyney told her that Caleb -had borne the operation so well that there was much hope. Then Diana -went out bareheaded into the deserted grounds and wandered about them -aimlessly, trying to regain her natural composure. - -They had arrested Zeb Bartlett, and he had given his sister’s disgrace -as his reason for shooting Caleb,--a belated vengeance, but one that -suited the public appetite for scandal. Diana had heard it unmoved. -In that dreadful moment when he lay at her feet, seemingly dead, -she had forgotten Jean Bartlett, and even now, nothing in the world -mattered to her but his life. Her face flushed with shame for her own -indifference, the deadening of every instinct but her agonizing anxiety -for his life. She had learned that love is greater than judgment -and as great as mercy. She walked slowly along the path between the -box-bordered flower-beds; here and there a late rose bloomed in the -autumn sunshine, and in the arbor the great ungathered clusters of -grapes hung purple, sweetened by frost. - -Before her was the same vista which showed from the Shut Room, and she -saw the river. That view recalled the room and the days her father had -sat there before his illness, and she thought of her mother with that -vague sweet regret with which we think of the unknown dead whom we -would have loved. Then she looked up and saw a woman coming toward her -from the gate. She was a stranger, yet Diana was instinctively aware of -a familiarity in her bearing and her gait. She stood waiting for her -approach, looking keenly at her face, which was beautiful though it -looked a little haggard and worn. The woman came on, looking eagerly, -in her turn, at Diana. For one so apparently wealthy and at ease, her -manner was almost timid; there was a hesitation even in its eagerness -as though she feared her welcome. The girl saw it and was faintly -surprised. In another moment the stranger was in front of her, and she -saw that she breathed like a person who had been running or was in -great trepidation. She stopped, and involuntarily her hand went to her -heart. - -“You are Diana Royall,” she said abruptly. - -Diana looked at her gently, vaguely alarmed, though at what she could -not divine. Her first thought, strangely enough, was a message from -Jacob, and her manner grew cold. “Yes,” she said quietly, “I am Diana -Royall; can I do anything for you?” - -The stranger hesitated; then her natural manner, which was full of -self-command, asserted itself. “I am Mrs. Fenwick. I know you do not -know me, but”--she glanced down the long garden path--“will you walk -with me a moment?” she said. “I have something to say to you.” - -Diana assented reluctantly. Her own heart was behind the half-closed -shutters in that upper room, and at another time she would have thought -the request at once remarkable and unwarranted. They turned and walked -together down the garden path, and as Diana stooped to unlatch the -wicket gate which shut off the rose garden from the larger grounds, her -companion shaded her eyes with her hand and looked off toward the river. - -“There have been some changes in this view, I think,” she said -abruptly, her eyes on the landscape; “the river was more obscured by -trees.” - -“The railroad cut cleared a bit of forest and gave us a finer view,” -replied Diana, and then she glanced quickly at her visitor, who was -evidently familiar with the prospect. - -“I thought so,” said Mrs. Fenwick softly, “this view is familiar; it -is the same that one sees from your mother’s old room.” - -Diana stood still, with her hand on the wicket. “Did you know my -mother?” she asked quickly. - -The older woman turned and looked fully at her. She had been very -beautiful in her first youth, and Diana was conscious of a charm at -once subtle and persuasive. “Is your mother dead?” she asked gently. - -The girl was deeply perplexed. “She died twenty years ago,” she replied. - -“She died twenty years ago?” her visitor repeated dreamily, looking -away again. “It may be so! She may have died to this life here, to this -place, to these people, but believe me, Diana, she is not dead.” - -They had passed through the wicket and were standing on the lower lawn. -Instinctively Diana drew further away from her; she did not understand -her, and she disliked her familiarity, but as yet she was unalarmed. -“My mother died in that room up there,” she said, with gentle dignity, -“and my father has mourned her ever since, and has taught me to mourn -her, too.” - -A deep flush passed over Mrs. Fenwick’s face, and her hands trembled a -little as they hung clasped before her. Diana, watching her, noticed -it and noticed the grace of her pose. The girl thought that the elder -woman never forgot herself, that her actions, even her gestures, were -considered, that there was something artificial in them, yet her -emotion was evident and unfeigned. - -“It was good of him,” said Mrs. Fenwick slowly, “it was, I suppose, a -beautiful idea, but it was an untruthful one. Diana, I am your mother.” - -Diana thought her mad. She drew away from her again, and this time -with instinctive repugnance, yet she was pitiful. This was evidently -a delusion; the woman was insane and to be pitied and dealt with -compassionately. - -“You are mistaken, Mrs. Fenwick,” she said gently; “my mother is dead.” - -“I tell you that I am your mother!” cried Letty, with sudden passion. -“Your mother never died; she was wicked, she ran away from your father -and from you with another man. I am that wretched woman, Diana; forgive -me!” - -“I think you are quite mad,” said Diana coldly; “I am sure you are.” - -“Good God, she will not believe me!” Letty exclaimed; “how wonderful -the web of deception must have been; I did not know before that David -Royall was a liar!” - -“Silence!” Diana towered. “Do not dare to say one word against my -father here!” she commanded. - -“Ah, it was for this he wrought so well!” said Mrs. Fenwick bitterly, -“to shut out the sinner. Diana, forgive me, look at me; is there no -likeness in my face to my own picture? There was a large one of me in -my first youth. Don’t you know me?” - -Diana was very pale. “There is no picture of my mother,” she said -deliberately, “and I do not believe you are my mother.” - -Letty Fenwick looked at her despairingly. She had come with the mad -impulse of affection, long pent up in her warped and passionate -heart; she had wanted her daughter, and she had never dreamed that -her daughter would not want her. That, instead, the girl’s outraged -feelings would leap up in defense of the deserted father; that, never -having known a living mother, her mind had created an image at once -beautiful and noble, and that this revelation shocked every instinct of -her nature. The older woman was vividly aware of the girl’s instinctive -aversion, of her reluctance to acknowledge her dawning conviction, and -in that very reluctance Letty read her own exile and defeat. She was, -indeed, dead. Colonel Royall’s curious way of guarding her secret from -her daughter had absolutely estranged her forever. He had accomplished -through forbearance and love what he could never have accomplished -through passion and revenge; she was forever dead to her own child. -This, then, was the punishment. She stood looking at Diana in a kind of -dull despair. - -“You are very beautiful,” she said, “more beautiful than I was at -your age, Diana, and I thank Heaven that you will not be like me. You -are stronger, braver, less foolish. I was both foolish and wicked; I -deserted you, but, oh, my child, I suffered for it! And I am asking -for so little now,--your love, that I may see you sometimes, your -forgiveness!” - -Her voice was full of pleading; it had a sweetness, too, at once -touching and eloquent. Diana returned her look sadly. Conviction had -been growing in her heart; a hundred little things sprang to mind to -confirm this strange story,--hints, suggestions of Jinny Eaton’s, -inexplicable actions of her father. It might be true, but she was -appalled at the stillness of her heart. She had loved her mother’s -memory, but, confronted with this strange woman, she found no response. -She battled against conviction; the shattering of her beautiful dream -of an ideal mother was bitter indeed. - -“I cannot believe it!” she exclaimed, “I cannot believe it!” - -Her mother drew a long breath. “You mean you will not believe it,” she -said quietly, “because you would rather repudiate the sinner! I do -not blame you. But it is true, I am your mother.” She broke off, her -parched lips quivered, but she shed no tears. “Diana,” she said after a -moment, “thank God that you are not like me--and forgive me.” - -“I cannot believe you!” reiterated Diana. - -But as she spoke they both saw Dr. Cheyney crossing the lawn to the -house, and her mother beckoned to him. The old man came reluctantly, -instinctively aware of the cause of the summons. - -“Dr. Cheyney,” Mrs. Fenwick said with forced composure, “tell Diana -that I am her mother.” - -The old man stood with his hand at his chin; he was very pale. Diana -looked up and met his eyes, and a slow painful blush went up to her -hair. - -“She is your mother,” said the doctor abruptly, and turned his back. - -As he walked away Letty Fenwick held out both hands pleadingly. -“Diana,” she said softly, “will you kiss me?” - -The hot tears came into Diana’s eyes and fell slowly on her pale -cheeks. “Mother!” she said, in a choked voice. - -Her mother caught her in her arms and kissed her. “My child!” she -murmured, “my child, can you forgive me?” - -Diana could not speak, her mother was weeping. “Dear girl,” she said, -“I’m rich, I know your father’s in trouble; let me help you, come to -me. Oh, Diana, I have longed for you!” - -“And leave my father?” Diana’s pale face was stern. “Leave him in -sorrow and loss and loneliness? Never!” - -“Ah!” said her mother bitterly, “you love him; it is he who has all -your heart!” - -“I love him dearly,” said the girl, “now more than ever.” - -Letty turned away. “He is revenged!” she said passionately. - -Diana took a step nearer and laid her hand on her arm. “Mother,” she -said quietly, “I will try to love you also, but remember that for -twenty years I have known only a beautiful image of you that his love -erected to save your memory for me. But I will try to love you, I will -certainly come to see you, I will do anything I can, but only on one -condition--” - -“My God!” cried Letty passionately, “you make a condition? You bargain -with me--I must beg for and buy your love?” - -“No,” replied Diana, “love you cannot buy, but I will do all I can, if -you will promise me never to let this great sorrow mar his life again, -if you will help me guard him, if you will remember how beautifully he -shielded your name for your child.” - -Letty covered her face with her hands. “Alas!” she said, “you have -found a way to punish me, but I promise, Diana.” - -“He has been ill,” Diana went on hurriedly, “he has been in trouble, he -needs me every moment, and I love him dearly; for his sake, because he -wishes it, I love you also.” - -Mrs. Fenwick still wept; involuntarily they turned together and walked -slowly toward the gate. “I want to see him,” she said at last, “I want -to ask his forgiveness.” - -“You have it,” said Diana simply. “I dare not take you to him now, not -to-night. Dr. Cheyney must tell him, I--I cannot. But his forgiveness, -it is yours already.” - -Letty looked back over the house. A thousand haunting memories swept -over her, and she shivered. “Diana,” she said, “I am rich, I must help -you now.” - -Diana’s pale face crimsoned; her father’s honor had never seemed more -sacred to her. “No,” she said simply, “you cannot.” - -Her mother met her eyes and turned away abruptly. At the gate she put -out her hand blindly and touched Diana’s; the girl took it and kissed -her. - -“Forgive me--mother!” she murmured. - -Letty clung to her a moment and then turned to go out alone. “My sin -has found me out!” she cried bitterly, and dropped her veil over her -face. - -Diana, standing in the gate, watched her go away alone. In her own -anguish she was scarcely conscious of the tragic picture of the exile. -In moments so poignant with feeling the great lesson of life is lost. -Diana had instinctively obeyed the impulse of love and duty, for once -irreconcilable with mercy, and she was unaware that she had been an -instrument of one woman’s punishment. She went back to the house and -found her father alone. Every impulse of her heart clamored to tell him -that she knew, to sympathize, to go to him for comfort, as she had all -her life. But he looked up as she entered. - -“Diana,” he said gently, “you look to-day as your mother did at your -age.” - -Diana slipped down on the arm of his chair and threw her arms around -his neck. “Was she beautiful, father?” she asked quietly. - -“Very, dear, like you,” he said; for twenty years he had woven his -simple romance. - -Diana laid her cheek against his. “Thank you, dear,” she said, “for her -memory--we will always love it together.” - - - - -XXX - - -WHEN Dr. Cheyney came down-stairs he found Colonel Royall alone, and he -was able to reassure him about the patient in the west room. - -“He’s going to live,” he said; “he’s had a close squeak, but he’ll -pull through unless something else happens. Lucky thing, too, for Zeb -Bartlett.” - -“That poor boy is an idiot,” said the colonel reflectively. “I can’t -see what he did it for?” - -“Mad at Caleb for one thing,” said Dr. Cheyney, “has been for some time -because he couldn’t beg from him all the while. Then he was set on, had -a pistol given him, I reckon.” - -“Eh?” exclaimed the colonel, startled. - -“Reckon so,” said the doctor mildly; he did not add that in the -Commonwealth attorney’s office it was known to be Jacob Eaton’s pistol; -“got some fool notion about his sister.” - -“That’s a pretty bad business,” said Colonel Royall. - -“Quite so!” agreed the doctor dryly. - -At that moment the door opened and Diana came in; she was leading a -child by the hand, and a dog followed her. Dr. Cheyney took off his -spectacles. - -“I’ll be jiggered!” he said abruptly. - -Colonel Royall smiled faintly. “She would have her way,” he said -apologetically. “I objected, but Diana rules the roost.” - -Diana’s sad eyes met the doctor’s with a flash of humor. “I shan’t let -you stay if you worry him,” she said. - -The doctor held out his hand to Sammy, but Sammy refused to leave -Diana; he clung to her skirts and hid his face in the folds. - -“Seems to take kindly to you, Diana,” remarked the doctor. - -She blushed. “He’s friendly enough,” she explained, “if you give him -pennies.” - -“Wants a penny!” said Sammy instantly, his tousled yellow head -appearing from Diana’s skirt. - -Dr. Cheyney explored his pockets and found a new one. “Come and get -it,” he said. - -Sammy moved over slowly and doubtfully, taking two steps backward to -one forward every time. - -“Suspicious, eh?” said the doctor, displaying the penny at a nearer -view. - -Sammy fell upon it and ran back to Diana, clasping it close in his fist. - -“An embryo financier,” said the colonel, musing, “and the dog isn’t -what one would call a prize-winner,” he added. - -“Caleb took ’em both in,” said the doctor; “he’s made that way. After a -while we’ll understand him.” - -“Some people say that he had good reason to take in the boy,” remarked -Colonel Royall without malice. - -“Father,” said Diana, “I wouldn’t have believed it of you, talking -scandal, and he’s our guest!” - -“That’s right, keep him down, Diana,” said the doctor; “the fact is -there’s nothing so cruel as people’s tongues. Now I know Sammy’s father -and sometimes I’m tempted, sore tempted, to go and post it by the -wayside.” - -“I wish you would!” said Diana with sudden feeling, “it’s only just -to--to Mr. Trench.” - -“That’s so--she’s right, William,” said her father, half smiling. - -Dr. Cheyney reflected; his lined old face lost some of its whimsical -humor, but it gained in sympathy and strength. “I’ve held my tongue to -shield others,” he said at last, “to spare the feelings of a family I -love. What would you do about it, David? Do you think it’s right to -plaster a scandal on to folks?” - -Diana glanced quickly at her father, keenly aware of his concealment -and that this all must touch him to the quick. The old man looked very -old indeed. - -“I don’t think it’s right to let the thing attach itself to Mr. Trench -if you know he’s innocent,” he said at length. - -“I reckon he’d be satisfied to be justified here,” said Dr. Cheyney, -his eyes resting on Diana as she bent down and caressed Sammy. - -“You’ll have to make it public to be of any use to him now,” said -Colonel Royall, “the other story has been in every newspaper in the -State.” - -“I know it,” said Dr. Cheyney, “but, David, it will come home to you -here. Sammy’s father is Jacob Eaton.” - -There was silence for a few moments, and then Colonel Royall said: -“It is singular that that young man has managed to inflict so many -mortifications upon his family. Poor Jinny! She was always quoting him -as a pink of propriety.” - -“The result of a mollycoddle,” said the doctor shortly. “Now you know -the facts, David, and it’s up to you. Shall I tell them?” - -Colonel Royall meditated. “Poor Jinny!” he said again, “she’s been so -proud of him, and now--one blow on another, no wonder she’s given up. -Poor Jinny!” - -“Father,” said Diana, “we’ve no right to consider even Cousin Jinny, -only Mr. Trench.” - -The force of her conviction showed through her reserve. She felt that -Caleb Trench had borne enough at the hands of their relatives, and that -he should be the scapegoat of one of Jacob’s sins was too much. - -Colonel Royall raised his bowed head. “She’s right, William,” he said, -pathetically resigned; “tell it to the world.” - -Dr. Cheyney rose. “Well, it has seemed like kicking a man who was -down,” he remarked, “but, as Diana says, there is Caleb Trench.” - -Diana followed him out into the hall. “Dr. Cheyney,” she said, “why -did no one tell me about my mother?” - -The old man put his hand on her shoulder. “Diana,” he said, “it was -David’s wish, and we all respected it. I wish”--he paused--“I wish -Letty had not come back. But she wanted to see you. Natural enough, I -reckon, only she ought to have been natural in that way at first.” - -“It was cruel not to tell me,” said Diana, “but I will not tell him -so--dear father!” - -The doctor looked at her thoughtfully. “You’re a good girl, Diana,” he -said. - -They walked together to the door. “Doctor, do you believe that--that my -mother is unhappy?” she asked at last. “I could not go to her: I will -not leave him.” - -“Unhappy? No, child, not more so than others,” said the old man. “She’s -got to bear her burden, Diana, that’s the law of life. Don’t you fret; -she’s rich, courted, influential, I’ve known it for years.” - -“I don’t see how she could treat my father so!” cried the girl. - -“Thank God, you never will!” said the doctor with conviction. - -“She wants to see him,” the girl faltered, “I--you--” - -“I’ll tell him,” said William Cheyney. - - - - -XXXI - - -COLONEL ROYALL was sitting by the great fireplace in his library. -Daylight was failing fast at the windows, and the long bough of a -hemlock sweeping across the one toward the west was outlined against -the whitening sky. The colonel watched it as it swayed. Once and awhile -he turned and looked toward the door, his fine old hands tightening on -the carved arms of his chair. - -Twenty years ago he had seen her last in this room, and he was to see -her again to-night. A singular feeling tightened about his heart. When -we have watched through a long vigil with a great and agonizing sorrow, -when we have rebelled against it, and battled and fought with the air, -in our vain outcry against its injustice, when we have longed and wept -and prayed for release in vain, and then, at last, have laid it in its -ashes and stood beside that open grave, which yawns sooner or later in -every past, then--the coming of its ghost is bitter with the bitterness -of death. - -It was the coming of the ghost for which Colonel Royall waited in -the gathering dusk, the ghost who must walk over the white ashes of -his love and his outraged honor. For twenty years he had hidden -the mother’s sin from the daughter, he had made her memory sweet to -her child. And his requital? She had tried to rob him of that one -comfort of his life, to take his daughter away, to estrange them in -his hour of need. In that hour even that gentle and simple heart -knew its own bitterness. He recalled every incident of that unhappy -past, he recalled her beauty and her indifference; again and again -he had questioned himself, had the fault been his? He had loved much -and forgiven much, yet it might be that he had given her cause for -weariness. Had the narrow routine of life which made his happiness -fretted her? If he had let her spread her butterfly wings in other -and gayer climes, would she have been more content to return at last? -Perhaps,--he did not know. - -Fallacious thought! No human being can hold captive another’s will -except by that one magic talisman, and love for David Royall had never -really lived in his wife’s heart. Marriage to some women is a brilliant -fête, and a preventive of the reproach which they fondly believe would -attach to them in single-blessedness; marriage is a poultice for the -ills of society, and the latch-key to the social front door, permitting -more freedom of entrance and exit. Yet it is a poultice which some are -exceedingly anxious to tear off after a short application. The young -and beautiful Letty had tried it twice and was still suffering from its -effects; she had found it, in both instances, grown cold and lumpy. -Yet, so adorable had been her youthful ways, so sweet and engaging her -manner, that this poor man, who had been the husband of her youth, -sat in the twilight, searching his heart again for reasons for her -discontent, no living man having really mastered the ways of woman. - -Night had fallen in the room, but the hemlock bough was still outlined -against the pane, for the moon was rising. Presently, Kingdom-Come came -in softly and lit the tall old candelabrum on the mantel; he was going -on, with a noiseless step, to the other lights, but the colonel stopped -him. - -“Has no one come yet?” he asked, as the negro, leaving the lamps, -arranged the fire. - -“Not yet, Marse David.” - -The colonel sighed inaudibly, and Kingdom retreated, not over pleased. -He, too, knew that some one was expected. He had been with the Royalls -from his birth. - -A light step came down the hall, and the colonel held his breath. It -was Diana, but she did not come in; he heard her ascending the stairs. -Then, in the long silence, the hall clock chimed seven, the outer door -opened, and the colonel again heard steps come across the tessellated -floor of the old hall. His long white hands tightened on the arms of -his chair, the ghost of his happiness was coming! He had loved greatly, -he was to look again on the face of her who, loving him not, had -betrayed him. Kingdom opened the library door, stood aside for her, -and closed it behind her. After twenty years they stood here alone -together--face to face. - -The colonel shaded his eyes and looked into the fire; the grave of -his love yawned deep, a shudder ran through him. Letitia had remained -standing by the door, the mature elegance of her figure, the slightly -bent head, recalled nothing when he finally looked up. She had left him -a mere girl; she returned a worn woman of the world; the suggestions of -her past, gay and unhappy, seemed to penetrate the classic mask of her -still beautiful face. He knew her even less than Dr. Cheyney. He made -an attempt to rise, failed and, sinking back, motioned her to a seat. - -She took it without a word, turning her face aside to avoid the light -of that one tall candelabrum. In the old room, facing the man who had -aged so greatly in these heavy years, she was ashamed. She had planned -a dozen glib speeches, but her parched lips refused to utter them. -She put her ungloved hand to her throat with a gesture that was like -one who struggled for breath, and Colonel Royall noticed the flash of -the jewels that she wore on her slender fingers. A little thing will -sometimes turn the balance of thought, and the flash of Letty’s jewels -recalled her former husband to himself. He remembered the divorce and -her marriage. Between them the white ashes of the past fell thick as -snow. He could dimly see through them the outlines of her matured and -hardened beauty, and the suggestions of that life in which he had -played so small a part. He thanked God devoutly that now they were face -to face he saw no likeness to Diana. - -To the woman, his silence, his wan age, the lines that suffering had -mapped on his proud face, were unendurable. She spoke at last, leaning -toward him, her clasped hands trembling on her knee. “David, I have -come to ask your forgiveness.” - -The colonel returned her look with a new sad serenity. “It’s a long -time to wait,” he said. - -She made a little involuntary movement, as if she wanted to go to him, -for she pitied him all at once, with the same sweep of emotion that -she had once abhorred him, loving another man. “I have wanted it for -twenty years,” she said, and then added impulsively: “I did not half -understand how much you loved me--until I heard how you had hidden -it all from Diana. At first I was angry, I thought you did it to -estrange her from the thought of her mother. Then I realized that you -were covering my disgrace, and--and it has broken down my pride!” She -stopped with a little sob. “David, will you forgive me?” - -“I forgave you twenty years ago, Letitia,” he replied; “you are Diana’s -mother.” - -The woman looked at him longingly. “She has been--she is much to you?” - -“She is all I have,” said Colonel Royall. - -The shamed tears welled up in her splendid eyes, her lip trembled like -a child’s. “I have nothing!” she sobbed wildly; “I am bankrupt!” and -she dropped her head on her hands. - -He looked over at her with compassion, once he passed his hand lightly -across his eyes. He felt the absolute restraint that comes to one whose -love has been lightly prized; he was nothing to her, it was not for -him to comfort her, while Letitia, cowering in her chair, thought him -cold-hearted, unforgiving, a proud Royall to the core. Thus are we -misinterpreted by those who love us not. - -“She cares nothing for me!” she sobbed, “you have taught her to love a -dead woman!” - -“I would gladly have taught her to love her mother,” the colonel said -quietly, “but how could I begin the lesson? By telling her that you had -deserted her?” - -She rose at that and stood looking at him, through her tears. “You have -had your revenge!” she said wildly, “you have had it a thousand times -over in that one reproach.” - -“Letitia,” he said gently, “I never desired revenge. I would have -chastised the man who injured me and dishonored you, if I could have -done it without dragging your name before the world. Other revenge I -never sought.” - -“You have it!” she cried again bitterly, “you have it; Diana despises -me, I read it in her clear eyes. You have brought her up to hate her -mother’s sin, so that when she knew it she would hate her mother.” - -The fine old hands tightened convulsively on the carved arms of his -chair. “Would you have had me bring her up to condone such sins?” he -asked her sternly, his blue eyes kindling. - -The shaft went home; its truth bit into her sore heart. “No,” she -breathed, hiding her face in her hands, shaking from head to foot. - -There was a long silence and then her voice. “I can bear no more!” - -He averted his eyes; her struggle hurt him deeply. Now and then he saw -her as she used to be; little reminders of her youth, her early beauty, -her gayety, crept through the change in her. His own vision was dimmed -with tears. After a while she grew more calm, and began to gather up -her belongings, her gloves, her purse, the boa that had slipped from -her shoulders, with those little familiar gestures that are a part -of a woman’s individuality, and yet all women share them. She was -gathering up the mantle of her worldliness, putting on the worn mask of -conventionality. - -“I am going,” she said, in a low voice that thrilled with feeling, “I -shall never see you again. Will you forgive me, David? I sinned and--I -have suffered, I am suffering still.” - -With an effort the old man rose and held out his hand. In the gesture -was all the stately courtesy of his race and his traditions. “I forgave -you long ago,” he said. - -She took his hand a moment, looked into his face, and read there the -death warrant of every hope she had that the trouble might be bridged, -her daughter come back to her. Her lips quivered and her shoulders rose -and fell with her quick breathing. - -“Thank you,” she said, and passed slowly down the room to the door. - -A log fell on the hearth, and the blaze, shooting up a tongue of flame, -illumined the colonel’s gaunt figure and whitened his face. At the -door Letitia turned and looked her last upon the man she had wronged, -who had forgiven her and yet, through the love of his daughter, had so -deeply smitten her. - -She went out weeping and alone. - - - - -XXXII - - -THREE weeks later Judge Hollis found Caleb able to walk about the -library. The wound had healed, but the fever and the struggle for life -had told. His tall figure was more gaunt than ever, and there were deep -hollows in his cheeks. He had prevailed with Judge Hollis to get the -case against Zeb Bartlett dismissed; the boy was half an idiot, and -the story of Jacob Eaton’s pistol and the money that Jacob had given -him before he fled, were too choice bits to get into the newspapers. -Dr. Cheyney had put down the scandal which made Zeb’s shot a revenge -for Jean, and there was an effort now to make things easy for poor -Jinny Eaton, who had gone to relatives in Virginia, still bewailing -Jacob and the influx of anarchists, which seemed to her to be the real -root of the trouble, as these incendiaries must have stirred up the -investigation which had wrecked Jacob before he had time to recover his -investments. For years she spoke of these alien influences which must -be responsible even for the fluctuations on Wall Street. Meanwhile, -Jacob had escaped to South America, and was heard of later as a -financier in Buenos Ayres. - -Judge Hollis announced his escape to Caleb. - -“Got off with a cool million, I reckon,” said the judge grimly; “by the -Lord Harry, I wish I could have laid him by the heels.” - -Caleb smiled faintly. He was leaning back in a big armchair by the -fire, and the window before him commanded a view of the mountain trail -where he had told Diana that he loved her. He had not yet recovered -from the miracle of finding himself under Colonel Royall’s roof. He -glanced now about the room and noticed the fine air of simplicity and -comfort; the deep-seated leather chairs, the old mahogany table, the -portraits of Colonel Royall’s mother and his grandfather in the uniform -of the Colonial Army on the walls. On the table was a great cluster of -roses from Diana’s hothouses. “I am glad Jacob went,” he said quietly. - -“Of course!” said the judge with sarcasm, “it’s my belief that William -Cheyney warned him in time. It’s like the old fool!” - -“Dear Dr. Cheyney!” said Caleb warmly. - -“Dear Dr. Fiddlesticks!” snapped the judge. “I reckon I know William; -we played alleys together when we were boys and I licked him about as -often as he licked me.” - -“The eternal bond of friendship,” smiled Caleb. - -“He’s got off Jacob and you got off Zeb Bartlett,” grumbled the judge, -“and if you keep on, at your present gait, you’ll be governor of this -State in two years. Then I suppose you and the doctor will empty the -penitentiary.” - -Caleb laughed. “I’ll get your help,” he said, “your heart isn’t as hard -as you pretend it is.” - -“A good many people think I haven’t got one,” said the judge; “I reckon -they don’t let you see the papers yet?” - -Caleb shook his head. - -The judge grinned. “And yesterday was the first Tuesday in November. -Drat ’em, I call that hard! I’ll tell you,” he leaned forward, his -fingers on Caleb’s knee, “the Republicans carried the State by a -plurality of ten thousand; Peter Mahan is elected.” - -Caleb’s amazement kept him silent. - -“Your fault, sir!” said the judge triumphantly, “you ripped the -Democracy in two, showed the machine, convicted the governor. By the -Lord Harry, boy, I voted the Republican ticket!” - -Caleb wrung the old man’s hand. “Now I know you love me, Judge!” he -said. - -It was then that the door opened and Diana appeared on the threshold, -bearing a little tray, Sammy at her skirts and Shot trailing behind -her. “Judge,” she said, “the doctor’s orders--twenty minutes and no -politics!” - -The judge got up and reached for his hat and cane. “I’m guilty, Diana!” -he cried. - -“Then you’ll have to go,” she said, and smiled across at the patient. - -It was only the third time Caleb had seen her, and he did not know how -often she had hung over him in agony when he lay unconscious. Diana, -meeting his eyes, turned crimson. She remembered, with a sudden panic, -that she had kissed him when she thought that he was dying! - -Meanwhile, the judge went out grumbling. He was too full of the -election to be silenced, and went to drink a mint julep with Colonel -Royall. Diana came back into the library leading Sammy. The dog had -bounded to his master and lay now on the hearthrug. Caleb stood by his -chair, pale but transformed. - -“You must not stand,” ordered Diana, as she set down the little tray -on the table and began to arrange his luncheon. “Kingdom is out and I -brought you some lunch myself,” she said simply. - -“You are very good to me,” said Caleb. - -She had turned away, and Sammy, who was devoted to her, had again -appropriated her hand. “You must not stand,” she repeated, “I will -never come here again if you cannot obey the doctor’s orders.” - -Caleb smiled. “I’d rather obey yours, Miss Royall,” he said, his eyes -following the two figures, the woman and the child. - -Half-way to the door Diana turned and let go the child’s detaining -fingers, coming toward him as if with some new resolve. She had never -looked more lovely in his eyes, though to him she had always been -an exquisite picture. The warm flood of November sunshine filling -the room, and the deeper glow on the hearth touched her and vivified -the buoyancy and freshness of her personality. Her chin was slightly -raised, and the delicate oval of her face glowed with feeling; it -seemed to him that her eyes were wonderful. - -“I want to ask your forgiveness,” she said. - -“My forgiveness?” he was taken aback, “you have done everything for me, -been everything to me; it is I who should ask forgiveness for having -been a burden here.” - -She put aside his thanks with a gesture at once gracious and -significant, and the sweetness of her smile arrested the words on -his lips. “Nevertheless I ask your pardon,” she said, “for--for my -stupidity, my ignorance, my want of manners long ago, when you came -here to the house and I treated you with discourtesy. You were always -fine; I was hateful. You must have despised me!” - -He smiled sadly. “I think you know that I did not,” he said. - -“I deserved it. But since then I have learned to value your friendship, -to honor you for the fight you have made.” - -He turned toward her; his tall gaunt figure seemed to have lost some of -its awkwardness, and the homely sweetness of his haggard face had never -been more apparent. “You know,” he paused, and then went on with deep -emotion, “I recognized then, I do still, the gap between our lives, but -it cannot change the one inevitable fact of my existence, my love for -you.” - -The color rose from her chin to the arch of her lovely brow, but -her lips quivered. “You know that we have lost almost all we had, -and--about my mother?” - -“I know,” he said simply, “Dr. Cheyney told me, and”--he looked -suddenly at Sammy and the dog--“your goodness to these, when you must -think--” - -She looked up, and their eyes met. “Did you think my heart was not big -enough for all?” she asked. - -Sudden joy leaped into his face, transfiguring it. “Diana,” he -exclaimed, “is it possible that through it all, in spite of it all, you -love me?” - -She smiled. “I think I always loved you, Caleb,” she said. - - -THE END - -[Illustration] - - - - -_A Stirring Story of Washington Society_ - -THE REAPING - -By MARY IMLAY TAYLOR - - With Frontispiece in color by George Alfred Williams - 12mo. Cloth. $1.50 - -A stirring story of political and diplomatic life in -Washington.--_Chicago Record-Herald._ - -An extremely readable novel.... She has pictured the smart diplomatic -set of Washington in interesting colors.--_New York American._ - -Quite the best picture of Washington life to be found.... As a study of -human passions, it is wonderfully exact.--_Philadelphia Item._ - -Her characters are very much alive, and her style is at once vivid -and polished. A novel which it is a pleasure to commend.--_Providence -Journal._ - -Cabinet officers, leading senators, and distinguished diplomats move in -these pages and in their official as well as social functions.--_Boston -Herald._ - - LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., PUBLISHERS - 34 BEACON STREET, BOSTON - - - - -_A Novel that Mirrors Washington Society_ - -THE IMPERSONATOR - -By MARY IMLAY TAYLOR - - Illustrated by Ch. Grunwald. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50 - -An exceedingly fascinating story.--_Atlanta Constitution._ - -Not only a most absorbing story, but the ranking novel of those whose -scenes are laid in Washington.--Lilian Whiting in _Times-Democrat_. - -The humor and satire with which social life in the capital is described -gives the book a deserved popularity even if the charming love story -and surprising dénouement did not add an exceptional degree of -interest.--_Washington Star._ - -A pretty girl art student in Paris is induced by a homely girl art -student to go to Washington as the substitute for the homely one, who -has been invited to visit a rich aunt whom she has never seen. From -first to last the interest is skilfully maintained.--_St. Louis Post -Dispatch._ - -Clever both in conception and execution.... A tale of Washington -society reflecting with accuracy certain aspects of the semi-fast -life of the nation’s capital.... The characters are all strongly -individualised and the action is as swift as it is natural. The -impersonator herself is admirably drawn.--_Boston Transcript._ - - LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., PUBLISHERS - 34 BEACON STREET, BOSTON - - - - -_An Old World Tale of Love and Daring_ - -MY LADY -CLANCARTY - -By MARY IMLAY TAYLOR - -Author of “On the Red Staircase,” “The Rebellion of the Princess,” etc. - - Illustrated in tint by Alice Barber Stephens - 12mo. 289 pages. $1.50 - -Sparkling and fresh.--_Pittsburg Times._ - -Piquant and dainty.--_Albany Argus._ - -Beautifully written, and the story is most fascinating.--_Mrs. Leslie -Carter._ - -A charming romance of a proscribed Jacobite who returns to England -to claim the wife whom he had not seen since she was a girl of -thirteen.--_San Francisco Chronicle._ - -As fetching a romance as modern fancy has woven about old threads of -fact.--_New York World._ - -The style is at once picturesque and simple, and the lightly sketched -pictures of life in the far days are well drawn and attractive. -Here is a wholesome, vigorous, stirring, refreshing tale.--_Chicago -Record-Herald._ - -An engaging story, swift in action, romantic in spirit, and picturesque -in setting.--_Brooklyn Times._ - - LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., PUBLISHERS, BOSTON - _At all Booksellers’_ - - - - -_Mr. Oppenheim’s Latest Novel_ - -THE ILLUSTRIOUS -PRINCE - -By E. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Caleb Trench</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Mary Imlay Taylor</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Illustrator: Emlen McConnell</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: October 12, 2022 [eBook #69145]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: D A Alexander, David E. Brown, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by University of California libraries)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CALEB TRENCH ***</div> - -<div class="figcenter hide"><img src="images/coversmall.jpg" width="450" alt=""></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<h1>CALEB TRENCH</h1> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_frontispiece.jpg" alt=""></div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="titlepage"> -<p><span class="xxlarge">CALEB TRENCH</span></p> - -<p>BY<br> - -<span class="xlarge">MARY IMLAY TAYLOR</span><br> - -AUTHOR OF “THE REAPING,” “THE<br> -IMPERSONATOR,” ETC.</p> - -<p>WITH FRONTISPIECE BY<br> -<span class="large">EMLEN McCONNELL</span></p> - -<p>BOSTON<br> -<span class="large">LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY</span><br> -1910</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="center"> -<i>Copyright, 1910</i>,<br> -<span class="smcap">By Little, Brown, and Company</span>.<br> -<br> -<br> -<i>All rights reserved</i><br> -<br> -Published March, 1910<br> -<br> -<br> -THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, U. S. A.</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p class="ph3">CALEB TRENCH</p> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">[1]</span> -<p class="ph2">CALEB TRENCH</p> - -<h2 class="nobreak">I</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">DIANA ROYALL pushed back the music-rack -and rose from her seat at the piano.</p> - -<p>“Show the person in here, Kingdom.”</p> - -<p>The negro disappeared, and Diana moved slowly -to the table at the farther end of the long room, and -stood there turning over some papers in her leisurely, -graceful way.</p> - -<p>“Who in the world is it now?” Mrs. Eaton asked, -looking up from her solitaire, “a book agent?”</p> - -<p>“Caleb Trench,” Diana replied carelessly, “the -shopkeeper at Eshcol.”</p> - -<p>“The storekeeper?” Mrs. Eaton looked as if -Diana had said the chimney-sweep. “What in the -world does he want of you, my dear?”</p> - -<p>Diana laughed. “How should I know?” she retorted, -with a slight scornful elevation of her brows; -“we always pay cash there.”</p> - -<p>“I wonder that you receive him in the drawing-room,” -Mrs. Eaton remonstrated, shuffling her cards -with delicate, much be-ringed fingers, and that indefinable -manner which lingers with some old ladies, -like their fine old lace and their ancestors, and is at<span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">[2]</span> -once a definition and classification. Thus, one could -see, at a glance, that Mrs. Eaton had been a belle -before the war, for, as we all know, the atmosphere -of belledom is as difficult to dissipate and forget as -the poignant aroma of a moth-ball in an old fur coat, -though neither of them may have served the purposes -of preservation.</p> - -<p>The girl made no reply, and the older woman was -instinctively aware of her indifference to her opinions, -uttered or unexpressed. There were times when -Diana’s absorption of mood, her frank inattention, -affected her worldly mentor as sharply as a slap in -the face, yet, the next moment, she fell easily under -the spell of her personality. Mrs. Eaton always felt -that no one could look at her youthful relative without -feeling that her soul must be as beautiful as her -body, though she herself had never been able to -form any estimate of that soul. Diana hid it with a -reserve and a mental strength which folded it away -as carefully as the calyx of a cactus guards the delicate -bloom with its thorns. But the fact that Mrs. -Eaton overlooked was still more apparent, the fact -that a great many people never thought of Diana’s -soul at all, being quite content to admire the long -and exquisite curves of her tall figure, the poise of -her graceful head, with the upward wave of its bright -hair, and the level glance of her dear eyes under their -thick dark lashes. There was something fine about -her vitality, her freshness, the perfection of her dress -and her bearing, which seemed so harmoniously accentuated<span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[3]</span> -by the subdued elegance of the charming -old room. Nature had specialized her by the divine -touch of a beauty that apparently proclaimed the -possession of an equally beautiful spirit; not even -the flesh and blood surface seemed always impenetrable, -but rather delicately transparent to every -spiritual variation, like the crystal sphere of the -magician. But Mrs. Eaton, pondering on her young -cousin’s personality from a more frivolous standpoint, -took alarm most readily at her independence, -and was overcome now with the impropriety of receiving -a village shopkeeper in the drawing-room -after dinner.</p> - -<p>“My dear,” she remonstrated again, “hadn’t you -better speak to him in the hall?”</p> - -<p>Diana looked up from her paper, slightly bored. -“In that case, Cousin Jinny, you couldn’t hear what -he said,” she remarked composedly.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Eaton reddened and put a three spot on her -ace instead of a two. “I do not care to—” she -began and paused, her utterance abruptly suspended -by the shock of a new perception.</p> - -<p>For, at that moment, Kingdom-Come announced -Diana’s unbidden guest and Mrs. Eaton forgot what -she was going to say, forgot her manners in fact, and -gazed frankly at the big man who came slowly and -awkwardly into the room. His appearance, indeed, -had quite a singular effect upon her. She wondered -vaguely if she could be impressed, or if it was only -the result of the unexpected contact with the lower<span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[4]</span> -class? She was fond of speaking of the Third Estate; -she had found the expression somewhere during her -historical peckings, and appropriated it at once as -a comprehensive phrase with an aristocratic flavor, -though its true meaning proved a little elusive.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, the unwelcome visitor was confronting -Miss Royall and there was a moment of audible -silence. Diana met his glance more fully than she -had ever been aware of doing before, in her brief -visits to his shop, and, like her elderly cousin, she -received a new and vital impression, chiefly from the -depth and lucidity of his gaze, which seemed to -possess both composure and penetration; she felt -her cheeks flush hotly, yet was conscious that his look -was neither familiar nor offending, but was rather -the glance of a personality as strong as her own.</p> - -<p>“You wish to speak to me?” she said impatiently, -forgetting the fine courtesy that she usually showed -to an inferior.</p> - -<p>As she spoke, her father and Jacob Eaton came -in from the dining-room and, pausing within the -wide low doorway, were silent spectators of the -scene.</p> - -<p>“I wished to see you, yes,” said Trench quietly, -advancing to the table and deliberately putting some -pennies on it. “When you bought that piece of muslin -this morning I gave you the wrong change. After -you left the shop I found I owed you six cents. I -walked over with it this evening as soon as I closed -the doors. I would have left it with your servant at<span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[5]</span> -the door, but he insisted that I must see you in person.” -He added this gravely, deliberately allowing -her to perceive that he understood his reception.</p> - -<p>Diana bit her lip to suppress a smile, and was conscious -that Jacob Eaton was openly hilarious. She -was half angry, too, because Trench had put her in -the wrong by recognizing her discourtesy and treating -it courteously. Beyond the circle of the lamplight -was the critical audience of her home-life, her -father’s stately figure and white head, Mrs. Eaton’s -elderly elegance, and Jacob’s worldly wisdom. She -looked at Trench with growing coldness.</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” she said, “shall I give you a receipt?”</p> - -<p>He met her eye an instant, and she saw that he was -fully cognizant of her sarcasm. “As you please,” -he replied unmoved.</p> - -<p>She felt herself rebuked again, and her anger -kindled unreasonably against the man who was -smarting under her treatment. She went to the -table, and taking a sheet of folded note-paper wrote a -receipt and signed it, handing it to him with a slight -haughty inclination of the head which was at once -an acknowledgment and a dismissal.</p> - -<p>But again he met her with composure. He took -the paper, folded it twice and put it in his pocketbook, -then he bade her good evening and, passing Eaton -with scarcely a glance, bowed to Colonel Royall and -went out, his awkward figure in its rough tweed suit -having made a singular effect in the old-fashioned<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[6]</span> -elegance of Colonel Royall’s house, an effect that -fretted Diana’s pride, for it had seemed to her that, -as he passed, he had overshadowed her own father -and dwarfed Jacob Eaton. Yet, at the time, she -thought of none of these things. She pushed the -offending pennies across the table.</p> - -<p>“Cousin Jinny,” she said carelessly, “there are -some Peter pence for your dago beggars.”</p> - -<p>Cousin Jinny gathered up the pennies and dropped -them thoughtfully into the little gold-linked purse on -her chatelaine. For years she had been contributing -a yearly subsidy to the ever increasing family of a -former gondolier, the unforgotten grace of whose -slender legs had haunted her memory for twenty -years, during which period she had been the recipient -of annual announcements of twins and triplets, whose -arrivals invariably punctuated peculiarly unremunerative -years.</p> - -<p>“That man,” she said, referring to Trench and not -the gondolier, “that man is an anarchist.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Eaton had a settled conviction that all undesirable -persons were anarchists. To her nebulous -vision innumerable immigrant ships were continually -unloading anarchists in bulk, as merchantmen might -unship consignments of Sea Island cotton or Jamaica -rum; and every fresh appearance of the social unwashed -was to her an advent of an atom from these -incendiary cargoes.</p> - -<p>“I hope you were careful about your receipt, -Diana,” said Jacob Eaton, stopping to light a cigarette<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[7]</span> -at the tall candelabrum on the piano. “How -far did your admirer walk to bring that consignment -of pennies?”</p> - -<p>“My admirer?” Diana shot a scornful glance at -him. “I call it an intrusion.”</p> - -<p>“Did he walk over from that little shop at Cross-Roads?” -Mrs. Eaton asked. “I seem to remember -a shop there.”</p> - -<p>“It’s seven miles,” said Colonel Royall, speaking -for the first time, “and the roads are bad. I think he -is merely scrupulously honest, Diana,” he added; “I -was watching his face.”</p> - -<p>Diana flushed under her father’s eye. “I suppose -he is,” she said reluctantly, “but, pshaw—six cents! -He could have handed it to a servant.”</p> - -<p>“Do you send the servants there?” Colonel Royall -asked pointedly.</p> - -<p>“No,” she admitted reluctantly, “I suppose he -rarely sees any one from here, but there was Kingdom -at the door.”</p> - -<p>“Who insisted on his seeing you, you remember,” -objected her father; “the soul of Kingdom-Come is -above six pennies.”</p> - -<p>“Well, so is mine!” exclaimed Diana pettishly.</p> - -<p>“Seven miles in red clay mud to see you,” mocked -Jacob Eaton, smiling at her.</p> - -<p>“Nonsense!” she retorted.</p> - -<p>“I don’t see why you take that tone, Jacob,” -warned his mother a little nervously. “I call it bad -taste; he couldn’t presume to—to—”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[8]</span>“To walk seven miles?” her son laughed “My -dear lady, I’d walk seventeen to see Diana.”</p> - -<p>“My dear courtier, throw down your cloak in the -mud and let me walk upon it,” retorted Diana -scornfully.</p> - -<p>“I have thrown down, instead, my heart,” he replied -in a swift undertone.</p> - -<p>But Diana was watching her father and apparently -did not hear him. Colonel Royall had moved to his -usual big chair by the hearth. A few logs were kindling -there, for, though it was early in April, it was a -raw chill evening. The firelight played on the noble -and gentle lines of the colonel’s old face, on his white -hair and moustache and in the mild sweetness of his -absent-minded eyes. His daughter, looking at him -fondly, thought him peculiarly sad, and wondered if it -was because they were approaching an anniversary in -that brief sad married life which seemed to have left a -scar too deep for even her tender touch.</p> - -<p>“I don’t mind about the amount—six cents may -be as sacred to him as six dollars,” he was saying. -“The man has a primitive face, the lines are quite remarkable, -and—” he leaned back and looked over at -the young man by the piano—“Jacob, I’ve heard of -this Caleb Trench three times this week in politics.”</p> - -<p>“A village orator?” mocked Eaton, without dropping -his air of nonchalant superiority, an air that -nettled Colonel Royall as much as a heat-rash.</p> - -<p>He shook his head impatiently. “Ask Mahan,” he -said. “I don’t know, but twice I’ve been told that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span> -Caleb Trench could answer this or that, and yesterday—” -he leaned back, shading his eyes with his -hand as he looked into the fire—“yesterday—what -was it? Oh—” he stopped abruptly, and a delicate -color, almost a woman’s blush, went up to his hair.</p> - -<p>“And yesterday?” asked Eaton, suddenly alert, -his mocking tone lost, the latent shrewdness revealing -itself through the thin mask of his commonplace -good looks.</p> - -<p>“Well, I heard that he was opposed to Aylett’s -methods,” Colonel Royall said, with evident reluctance, -“and that he favored Yarnall.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Eaton started violently and dropped her pack -of cards, and Diana and she began to gather them up -again, Cousin Jinny’s fingers trembling so much that -the girl had to find them all.</p> - -<p>Jacob stood listening, his eyelids drooping over his -eyes and his upper lip twitching a little at the corners -like a dog who is puckering his lip to show his fangs. -“Yarnall is a candidate for governor,” he said coolly.</p> - -<p>Colonel Royall frowned slightly. “I’d rather keep -Aylett,” he rejoined.</p> - -<p>“Yarnall had no strength a week ago, but to-day -the back counties are supporting him,” said Eaton, -“why, heaven knows! Some one must be organizing -them, but who?”</p> - -<p>Colonel Royall drummed on the arm of his chair -with his fingers. “Since the war there’s been an upheaval,” -he said thoughtfully. “It was like a whirlpool, -stirred the mud up from the bottom, and we’re<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span> -getting it now. No one can predict anything; it isn’t -the day for an old-fashioned gentleman in politics.”</p> - -<p>“Which is an admission that shopkeepers ought to -be in them,” suggested Jacob, without emotion.</p> - -<p>Colonel Royall laughed. “Maybe it is,” he admitted, -“anyway I’m not proud of my own party -out here. I’m willing to stand by my colors, but I’m -usually heartily ashamed of the color bearer. It’s -not so much the color of one’s political coat as the -lining of one’s political pockets. I wish I had Abe -Lincoln’s simple faith. What we need now is a man -who isn’t afraid to speak the truth; he’d loom up -like Saul among the prophets.”</p> - -<p>“Again let me suggest the shopkeeper at the Cross-Roads,” -said Jacob Eaton.</p> - -<p>Colonel Royall smiled sadly. “Why not?” he -said. “Lincoln was a barefoot boy. Why not Caleb -Trench? Since he’s honest over little things, he -might be over great things.”</p> - -<p>“Is he a Democrat?” Jacob asked suavely.</p> - -<p>“On my word, I don’t know,” replied Colonel -Royall. “He’s in Judge Hollis’ office reading law, -so William Cheyney told me.”</p> - -<p>“That old busybody!” Jacob struck the ashes -from his cigarette viciously.</p> - -<p>“Hush!” said Diana, “treason! Don’t you say a -word against Dr. Cheyney. I’ve loved him these -many years.”</p> - -<p>“A safe sentiment,” said Jacob. “I’m content to -be his rival. Alas, if he were the only one!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span>“What did you say Caleb Trench was doing in the -judge’s office, pa?” Diana asked, ignoring her cousin.</p> - -<p>“Reading law, my dear,” the colonel answered.</p> - -<p>“I thought he was a poor shopkeeper,” objected -Mrs. Eaton.</p> - -<p>“So he is, Jinny,” said the colonel; “but he’s -reading law at night. It’s all mightily to his credit.”</p> - -<p>“He’s altogether too clever, then,” said Mrs. Eaton -firmly; “it is just as I said, he’s an anarchist!”</p> - -<p>“Dear me, let’s talk of some one else,” Diana protested. -“The man must have hoodooed us; we’ve -discussed nothing else since he left.”</p> - -<p>“Though lost to sight, to memory dear,” laughed -Jacob, throwing back his sleek dark head, and blowing -his cigarette smoke into rings before his face: he -was still leaning against the piano, and his attitude -displayed his well-knit, rather slight figure. His -mother, gazing at him with an admiration not unlike -the devotion the heathen extends to his favorite deity, -regarded him as a supreme expression of the best in -manhood and wisdom. To her Jacob was little short -of a divinity and nothing short of a tyrant, under -whose despotic rule she had trembled since he was -first able to express himself in the cryptic language of -the cradle, which had meant with him an unqualified -and unrestrained shriek for everything he wanted. -She thought he showed to peculiar advantage, too, -in the setting of the old room with its two centers of -light, the lamp on the table and the fire on the hearth, -with the well-worn Turkey rugs, its darkly polished<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span> -floor, the rare pieces of Chippendale, and the equally -rare old paintings on the walls. There was a fine, -richly toned portrait of Colonel Royall’s grandfather, -who had been with Washington at Yorktown, and -there was a Corot and a Van Dyke, originals that had -cost the colonel’s father a small fortune in his time. -Best of all, perhaps, was the Greuze, for there was -something in the shadowy beauty of the head which -suggested Diana.</p> - -<p>Colonel Royall himself had apparently forgotten -Jacob and his attitude. The old man was gazing -absently into the fire, and the latent tenderness in -his expression, the fine droop of eyes and lips seemed -to suggest some deeper current of thought which the -light talk stirred and brought to the surface. There -was a reminiscent sadness in his glance which ignored -the present and warned his daughter of the shoals. -She leaned forward and held her hands out to the -blaze.</p> - -<p>“If it’s fine next week, I’m going up to Angel -Pass to see if the anemones are not all in bloom,” -she said abruptly.</p> - -<p>Colonel Royall rose, and walking to the window, -drew aside the heavy curtains and looked out. “The -night is superb,” he said. “Come here, Di, and see -Orion’s golden sword. If it is like this, we will go -to-morrow.”</p> - -<p>But Diana, going to him, laid a gentle hand on his -arm. “To-morrow was mother’s birthday, pa,” she -said softly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span>Mrs. Eaton looked up and caught her son’s eye, -and turned her face carefully from the two in the bay -window. “Think of it,” she murmured, with a look -of horrified disapproval, “think of keeping Letty’s -birthday here!”</p> - -<p>But Jacob, glancing at Diana’s unconscious back, -signed to her to be silent.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">II</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">IT was the end of another day when Caleb -Trench and his dog, Shot, came slowly down -the long white road from Paradise Ridge. It -is a shell road, exceeding white and hard, and below -it, at flood-tide, the river meadows lie half submerged; -it turns the corner below the old mill and -passes directly through the center of Eshcol to the -city. Behind the mill, the feathery green of spring -clouded the low hills in a mist of buds and leafage. -The slender stem of a silver birch showed -keen against a group of red cedars. A giant pine -thrust its height above its fellows, its top stripped -by lightning and hung with a squirrel’s nest.</p> - -<p>Trench and his dog, a rough yellow outcast that -he had adopted, were approaching the outskirts of -Eshcol. Here and there was a farmhouse, but the -wayside was lonely, and he heard only the crows in -the tree-tops. It was past five o’clock and the air was -sweet. He smelt the freshly turned earth in the fields -where the robins were hunting for grubs. Beyond the -river the woods were drifted white with wild cucumber. -Yonder, in the corner of a gray old fence, -huddled some of Aaron Todd’s sheep. The keen -atmosphere was mellowing at the far horizon to molten<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span> -gold; across it a drifting flight of swallows was sharply -etched, an eddying maelstrom of graceful wings.</p> - -<p>In the middle of the road Caleb Trench was suddenly -aware of a small figure, which might have been -three years old, chubby and apparently sexless, for it -was clad in a girl’s petticoats and a boy’s jacket, its -face round and smeared with jelly.</p> - -<p>“Sammy,” said Trench kindly, “how did you get -here?”</p> - -<p>“Penny,” said Sammy, “wants penny!”</p> - -<p>To Sammy the tall man with the homely face and -clear gray eyes was a mine of pennies and consequently -of illicit candy; the soul of Sammy was greedy as well -as his stomach. Trench thrust his hand into his pocket -and produced five pennies. Sammy’s dirty little fist -closed on them with the grip of the nascent financier.</p> - -<p>“Sammy tired,” he sobbed, “wants go to candy -man’s!”</p> - -<p>Trench stooped good-naturedly and lifted the -bundle of indescribable garments; he had carried it -before, and the candy man was only a quarter of a -mile away. He was raising the child to his shoulder -when the growth of pokeberry bushes at the roadside -shook and a woman darted out from behind it. She -was scarcely more than a girl and pitifully thin and -wan. Her garments, too, were sexless; she wore a -girl’s short skirt and a man’s waistcoat; a man’s soft -felt hat rested on a tangled mass of hair,—the coarse -and abundant hair of peasant ancestry. She ran up -to him and snatched the child out of his arms.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span>“You shan’t have him!” she cried passionately; -“you shan’t touch him—he’s mine!”</p> - -<p>Sammy screamed dismally, clutching his pennies.</p> - -<p>“Never mind, Jean,” said Trench quietly. “I -know he’s yours.”</p> - -<p>“He’s mine!” She was stamping her foot in -passion, her thin face crimson, the veins standing -out on her forehead. “He’s mine—you may try -ter get him, but you won’t—you won’t—you -won’t!” she screamed.</p> - -<p>The child was frightened now, and clasped both -arms around her neck, screaming too.</p> - -<p>“I was only offering to carry him to the candy -man’s, Jean,” Trench said; “don’t get so excited. -I know the child is yours.”</p> - -<p>“He’s mine!” she cried again, “mine! That’s -my shame, they call it, and preach at me, and try -ter take him away. They want ’er steal him, but -they shan’t; they shan’t touch him any more’n you -shall! He’s mine; God gave him ter me, and I’ll -keep him. You can kill me, but you shan’t have -him noways!” She was quivering from head to -foot, her wild eyes flashing, her face white now with -the frenzy that swept away every other thought.</p> - -<p>“Hush,” said Trench sternly, “no one wants to -steal the child, Jean; it’s only your fancy. Be -quiet.”</p> - -<p>He spoke with such force that the girl fell back, -leaning against the fence, holding the sobbing child -tight, her eyes devouring the man’s strong, clean-featured<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span> -face. Her clouded mind was searching for -memories. She had lost her wits when Sammy was -born without a father to claim him. Trench still -stood in the middle of the road, and his figure was at -once striking and homely. He was above the average -height, big-boned and lean, the fineness of his head -and the power of his face not less notable because of -a certain awkwardness that, at first, disguised the -real power of the man, a power so vital that it grew -upon you until his personality seemed to stand out -in high relief against the commonplace level of humanity. -He had the force and vitality of a primitive man.</p> - -<p>The girl crouched against the fence, and the two -looked at each other. Suddenly she put the child -down and, coming cautiously nearer, pointed with -one hand, the other clenched against her flat chest.</p> - -<p>“I know you,” she whispered, in a strange penetrating -voice, “I know you at last—<i>you’re him</i>.”</p> - -<p>Trench regarded her a moment in speechless amazement, -then the full significance of her words was -borne in upon him by the wild rage in her eyes. He -knew she was half crazed and saw his peril if this -belief became fixed in her mind. Often as he had seen -her she had never suggested such a delusion as was -then taking root in her demented brain.</p> - -<p>“You are mistaken,” he said gently, slowly, persuasively, -trying to impress her, as he might a child; -“you have forgotten; I only came to Eshcol four -years ago. You have not known me two years, Jean; -you are thinking of some one else.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span>A look of cunning succeeded the fury in her eyes, -as she peered at him. “It’s like you ter say it,” she -cried triumphantly at last, “it’s like you ter hide. -You’re afeard, you were always afeard—coward, -coward!”</p> - -<p>Trench laid his powerful hand on her shoulder -and almost shook her. “Be still,” he said authoritatively, -“it is false. You know it’s false. I am -not he.”</p> - -<p>She wrenched away from him, laughing and crying -together. “’Tis him,” she repeated; “I know him -by this!” and she suddenly snatched at the plain -signet ring that he wore on his left hand.</p> - -<p>Trench drew his hand away in anger, his patience -exhausted. “Jean,” he said harshly, “you’re mad.”</p> - -<p>“No!” she shook her head, still pointing at him, -“no—it is you!”</p> - -<p>She was pointing, her wild young face rigid, as a -carriage came toward them. Trench looked up and -met the calm gaze of Colonel Royall and Diana, -who occupied the back seat. In front, beside the -negro coachman, Jacob Eaton leaned forward and -stared rudely at the group in the dust.</p> - -<p>“What is the matter, Jacob?” the old man asked, -as the carriage passed.</p> - -<p>The young one laughed. “The old story, I reckon, -Colonel,” he said affably, “begging Diana’s pardon.”</p> - -<p>“You needn’t beg my pardon. It was Jean Bartlett, -pa,” she added, blushing suddenly.</p> - -<p>“Poor girl!” The colonel touched his lips thoughtfully.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span> -“By gad, I wish I knew who was the father -of her child—I’d make him keep her from starving.”</p> - -<p>“You do that, pa,” said Diana quietly.</p> - -<p>“I reckon the father’s there now,” said Jacob -Eaton, with a slight sneer.</p> - -<p>Diana flashed a look at the back of his head which -ought to have scorched it. “It is only the shopkeeper -at Eshcol,” she said haughtily.</p> - -<p>“Are shopkeepers immune, Diana?” asked Jacob -Eaton, chuckling.</p> - -<p>“I am immune from such conversations,” replied -Diana superbly.</p> - -<p>Jacob apologized.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, the group by the wayside had drawn -nearer together. “I will take your child home, for -you are tired,” said Trench sternly, “but I tell you -that I do not know your story and you don’t know -me. If you accuse me of being that child’s father, -you are telling a falsehood. Do you understand -what a falsehood is, Jean?”</p> - -<p>His face was so stern that the girl cowered.</p> - -<p>“No,” she whimpered, “I—I won’t tell, I swore -it, I won’t tell his name.”</p> - -<p>“Neither will you take mine in vain,” said Caleb -Trench, and he lifted the sobbing Sammy.</p> - -<p>Cowed, Jean followed, and the strange procession -trailed down the white road. Overhead the tall -hickories were in flower. The carriage of Colonel -Royall had cast dust on Trench’s gray tweed suit -and it had powdered Shot’s rough hair. The dog<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span> -trailed jealously at his heels, not giving precedence -to Jean Bartlett. The girl walked droopingly, and -now that the fire of conviction had died out of her -face, it was shrunken again, like a thin paper mask -from behind which there had flashed, for a moment, -a Hallowe’en candle. They began to pass people. -Aaron Todd, stout farmer and lumberman, rode by in -his wagon and nodded to Trench, staring at the child. -Jean he knew. Then came two more farmers, and -later a backwoodsman, who greeted Trench as he -galloped past on his lean, mud-bespattered horse. -Then two women passed on the farther side. They -spoke to Trench timidly, for he was a reserved man -and they did not know him well, but they drew -away their skirts from Jean, who was the Shameful -Thing at Paradise Ridge.</p> - -<p>Strange thoughts beset Caleb; suddenly the girl’s -accusation went home; suppose he had been the -father of this child on his arm,—would they pass -him and speak, and pass her with skirts drawn -aside? God knew. He thought it only too probable, -knowing men—and women. He was a just man on -occasions, but at heart a passionate one. Inwardly -he stormed, outwardly he was calm. The dog trailed -behind him; so did the girl, a broken thing, who had -just sense enough to feel the women’s eyes. They -passed more people. Again Caleb answered salutations, -again he heard the girl whimper as if she -shrank from a blow.</p> - -<p>At her own door, which was her grandmother’s,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span> -he set down the child. A shrill voice began screaming. -“Is the hussy there? Come in with you, you thing -of shame; what d’ye walk in the road for? The -Ridge is fair screamin’ with your disgrace, you -trollop. Jean, Jean!”</p> - -<p>The old woman was childish, but she knew the tale -and retained it. There was also a half-foolish brother; -it seemed as if, in the making of this luckless family, -the usual three pints of wits had been spilled to a -half pint and then diluted to go around. Zeb Bartlett -came to the door, shambling and dirty, but grinning -at the sight of Trench. Sammy ran from him shrieking, -for he feared the theft of his spoils. Zeb towered -in righteous wrath as Jean appeared.</p> - -<p>“Get in, Shameless!” he commanded.</p> - -<p>The girl shrank past him sobbing.</p> - -<p>“My God!” said Caleb Trench and turned away.</p> - -<p>He did not heed an appeal for help to get work that -Zeb shouted after him; he was, for the moment, -deaf. Before him lay the broad fields and sloping -hills, the beauty of earth and sky, drenched in sunset; -behind lay a girl’s purgatory. He forgot his -anger at her senseless accusation, he forgot the peril -of it, in his wrath; he hated injustice. Only the -yellow dog followed at his heels and his heart was full -of strange thoughts. Five years of isolation and injustice -must tell in a man’s life, and the purposes -born there in solitude are grim. The great trial that -was to divide Eshcol against itself was growing, -growing out of the sweet spring twilight, growing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span> -beyond the song of the thrush and the cheep of the -woodpecker, growing in the heart of a man.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, Jacob Eaton had called Trench the -father of Jean Bartlett’s child, and old Scipio, who -drove the colonel’s bays, heard it and told it to Kingdom-Come -Carter, who had been butler at Broad -Acres for fifty years, and had carried Diana in his -arms when she was two weeks old. Kingdom-Come -told it to Aunt Charity and Uncle Juniper, coal-black -negroes of the cabin, and thus by kitchens -and alley-doors the story traveled, as a needle will -travel through the body and work its way to the -surface. The reputation of a man is but the breath -on a servant’s lips, as man himself is compared to -grass and the flower of it.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">III</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">TRENCH walked slowly homeward. Colonel -Royall’s place, the largest of its kind in the -neighborhood of Eshcol, was on a hill above -the town, and Trench’s nearest path lay not by the -highroad but past the Colonel’s gates along a lovely -trail that led through a growth of stunted cedars -out into the open ground above the river, and -thence by a solitary and wooded path known sometimes -as the Trail of the Cedar-bird, because those -little birds haunted it at certain seasons of the year.</p> - -<p>It was now broad moonlight, and Trench, who was -peculiarly susceptible to the sights and sounds of -Nature, was aware of the beauty of every tremulous -shadow. The chill spring air was sweet with the aromatic -perfume of pines and cedars, and, as he turned -the shoulder of the hill, his eye swept the new-plowed -fields. He could smell the grapevines that were -blooming in masses by the wayside, promising a full -harvest of those great purple grapes that had given -the settlement its name. Below him the river forked, -and in its elbow nestled the center of the village, the -church at the Cross-Roads, and the little red schoolhouse -where Peter Mahan had fought Jacob Eaton -and whipped him at the age of twelve, long before<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span> -Caleb Trench had even heard of Eshcol. To the left -was the Friends’ Meeting-House, Judge Hollis’ home, -and the lane which led to Trench’s shop and office. -Beyond, he discerned the little old white house where -Dr. William Cheyney lived, but that was where Eshcol -lapped over on to Little Paradise, for they had bridged -the creek ten years before. Across the river lay the -city, big and smoky and busy, its spires rising above -its shining roofs.</p> - -<p>A light mist, diaphanous and shimmering, floated -over the lowlands by the water, and above it the dark -green of the young foliage and the lovely slope of -clovered fields seemed to assume a new and beautiful -significance, to suggest mysterious unfoldings, buds -and blossoming time, the gathered promise of a hundred -springs, that mysterious awakening of life which -stirred the lonely man’s imagination with a thrill of -pleasure as poignant as it was unusual. To him these -lonely walks at sunrise and moonrise had been his -greatest solace, and there was a companionship in -the slight hushed sounds of woodland life which approached -his inner consciousness more nearly than the -alien existence that circumstances had forced upon -him. He was a stranger in almost a strange land. -He had been born and brought up in Philadelphia, -and his family belonged to the Society of Friends. -Personally, Caleb Trench was not orthodox, but the -bias of his early training held, and the poverty that -had followed his father’s business failure had tended -to increase the simplicity of the boy’s narrowed life.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span> -When death had intervened and taken first his father, -whom business ruin had broken, and then his mother -and sister, Caleb had severed the last tie that bound -him to the East and started West to make his fortune, -with the boundless confidence of youth that he -would succeed. The lodestar that has drawn so many -on that fantastic quest had drawn him, and failing in -first one venture and then another, because it is -easier to buy experience than to accumulate wealth, -he had come at last to the little shop at Eshcol and -the study of law. Wherein lay the touchstone of his -life, though he knew it not.</p> - -<p>Pausing now, a moment, to view his favorite scene, -the lowlands by the river under their silvery mantle -of vapor, he turned and took the sharp descent from -the bluff to the old turnpike. A cherry tree in full -bloom stood like a ghost at the corner of Judge Hollis’ -orchard, and the long lane was white with the falling -petals. A light shone warmly through the crimson -curtains of Judge Hollis’ library window, and Caleb -took the familiar path to the side door. The latch -was usually down, but to-night he had to knock, and -the judge’s sister, Miss Sarah, opened the door.</p> - -<p>“Is that you, Caleb?” she said, in her high thin -voice; “wipe your feet. I wish men folks were all -made like cherubs anyway, then there wouldn’t be -all this mud tracked over my carpets.”</p> - -<p>“We might moult our wing feathers, Miss Sarah,” -Caleb ventured unsmilingly, while he obeyed his instructions -to the letter.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span>“I’d as lief have feathers as pipe ashes,” she retorted; -“in fact I’d rather—I could make pillows -of ’em.”</p> - -<p>“You can’t complain of my pipe ashes, Miss Sarah,” -Trench said, a slow laugh dawning in the depths of -his gray eyes. “Is the judge at home?”</p> - -<p>“Can’t you smell tobacco smoke?” she replied, -moving in front of him across the entry, her tall -figure, in its plain green poplin with the turn-down -collar of Irish lace, recalling to Trench, in the most -extreme of contrasts, the other tall figure in its beautiful -evening dress, that had stood so haughtily in -Colonel Royall’s drawing-room, seeming to him the -most perfect expression of beauty and charming grace -that he had ever seen, though he still felt the sting of -Diana’s glance and the sarcasm of her receipt. He -had carried the money back in good faith, for his -Quaker training made six cents as significant to him -as six hundred cents, but, under all his strong and -apparently unmoved exterior, there was a quick perception -of the attitude of others toward his views and -toward himself. In the strength of his own virile -character he had not fully realized where he stood in -her eyes, but after that night he did not forget it. -Meanwhile, Miss Sarah had opened the study door.</p> - -<p>“Judge,” she called to her brother, “Caleb’s -here.”</p> - -<p>There was no response, and she went away, leaving -Caleb to find his own welcome. He went in and closed -the door. Judge Hollis was sitting at his desk smoking<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span> -a long black pipe and writing carefully in a hand -as fine and accurate as a steel engraving.</p> - -<p>The room was low, papered with old-fashioned -bandbox paper and filled with bookcases with glass -doors, every one of which hung open. In the corner -was a life-sized bust of Daniel Webster. As Caleb -entered, the judge swung around in his revolving -chair and eyed him over his spectacles. He was a -big man with a large head covered with abundant -white hair, a clean-shaven face with a huge nose, -shaped like a hawk’s and placed high between the -deep-set eyes.</p> - -<p>“Trench,” he said abruptly, “if they elect Aylett -they’ll have to stuff the ballot-boxes. What’ll you -do then?”</p> - -<p>“Take the stuffing out of them, Judge,” Trench -replied promptly and decisively.</p> - -<p>The judge looked at him, a grim smile curling the -corners of his large mouth. “They’ll tar and feather -you,” he said.</p> - -<p>Trench sat down and took up a calf-bound volume. -“I’m enough of a Quaker still to speak out in meeting,” -he observed.</p> - -<p>“The only thing I know about Quakers makes ’em -seem like Unitarians,” said the judge, “and a Unitarian -is a kind of stylish Jew. What have you -been doing with the backwoodsmen, Caleb? Mahan -tells me they’re organized—” the judge smiled outright now—“I -don’t believe it.”</p> - -<p>Caleb Trench smiled too. “I don’t know much<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span> -about organizing, Judge,” he said simply. “When -men come into my shop and ask questions I answer -them; that’s all there is about it.”</p> - -<p>“We’ll have to shut up that shop, I reckon,” the -judge said, “but then you’ll open your darned law -office and give ’em sedition by the brief instead of by -the yard. I deserve hanging for letting you read -law here. I’ve been a Democrat for seventy years, -and you’re a black Republican.”</p> - -<p>Trench closed the law book on his finger. “Judge,” -he said slowly, “I’m a man of my own convictions. -My father wouldn’t stand for anything I do, yet he -was the best man I ever knew, and I’d like to be true -to him. It isn’t in me to follow in the beaten track, -that’s all.”</p> - -<p>The judge twinkled. “You’re an iconoclast,” he -said, “and so’s Sarah, yet women, as a rule, are safe -conservatives. They’ll hang on to an old idea as -close as a hen to a nest-egg. Perhaps I’m the same. -Anyway I can’t stand for your ways; I wash my -hands of it all. I wish they’d drop Yarnall; his -nomination means blood on the face of the moon. -There’s the feud with the Eatons, and I wouldn’t -trust Jacob Eaton to forget it, not by a darned sight; -he’s too pesky cold-blooded,—the kind of man -that holds venom as long as a rattler.”</p> - -<p>“Then, if you don’t like Yarnall, why not vote for -Mahan?” Trench was beginning to enjoy himself. -He leaned back in his chair with his head against a -shelf of the bookcase, the light from the judge’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span> -lamp falling full on his remarkable face, clean-shaven -like his host’s, on the strong line of the jaw, and on -the mouth that had the faculty of locking itself in -granite lines.</p> - -<p>“Because, damn it, I’m a Democrat!” said the -old man angrily.</p> - -<p>“By conviction or habit?”</p> - -<p>The judge scowled. “By conviction first, sir, and -by habit last, and for good and all, anyway!”</p> - -<p>Caleb Trench laughed softly. “Judge,” he said, -“what of Jacob Eaton?”</p> - -<p>The judge shot a quick look from under scowling -brows. “Seen him lately?”</p> - -<p>The younger man thought a moment. “Yes, -last night. I owed Miss Royall some change and -took it to the house. Eaton was there.”</p> - -<p>“How much change?” asked Hollis abruptly.</p> - -<p>“Six cents.”</p> - -<p>“What!”</p> - -<p>Trench reddened. “Six cents,” he repeated -doggedly.</p> - -<p>“And you took it up there and paid Diana Royall?”</p> - -<p>“Certainly, Judge, in the drawing-room; she gave -me a receipt.”</p> - -<p>The judge exploded with laughter; he roared and -slapped his knee.</p> - -<p>Caleb Trench bore it well, but the color of his eyes, -which was blue-gray, became more gray than blue. -“I owed it,” he said.</p> - -<p>At which the judge laughed more. Then he dropped<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span> -back into his old attitude and wiped his eyes. “You -walked up there—seven miles—to see Diana?”</p> - -<p>Trench stiffened. “No,” he said flatly, “I did not; -I’ve got more sense. I know perfectly how Miss -Royall estimates a shopkeeper,” he added, with a -bitterness which he could not suppress.</p> - -<p>The judge looked at him curiously. “How do you -know?” he asked.</p> - -<p>Trench returned his look without a word, and Judge -Hollis colored; it was not the first time that the -young man had rebuked him and let him know that -he could not trespass on forbidden ground. The -old lawyer fingered his brief an instant in annoyed -silence, then he spoke of something else.</p> - -<p>“I’ll tell you about the feud,” he said irrelevantly; -“it began seventy years ago over a piece of ground -that lay between the two properties; Christopher -Yarnall claimed it and so did Jacob Eaton, this man’s -grandfather. There was a fence war for years, then -Yarnall won. Winfield Mahan, Peter’s grandfather, -won by a fifteen-hour speech. They said the jurymen -all fell asleep in the box and voted in a nightmare. -Anyway he got it, and Mahan got more money -for the case than the whole place was worth. That -was the beginning. Chris Yarnall’s son married a -pretty girl from Lexington, and she fell in love with -Eaton, Jacob’s father. There was a kind of fatality -about the way those two families got mixed up. -Everybody saw how things were going except Jinny -Eaton, his wife. She was playing belle at Memphis,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span> -and Jacob was about a year old. Eaton tried to run -away with Mrs. Yarnall, that’s the size of it, and -Yarnall shot him. There was a big trial and the -Eatons claimed that Eaton was innocent. Young -Mrs. Yarnall swore he was, and fainted on the stand, -but the Yarnalls knew he wasn’t innocent, and they -got Yarnall off. He wouldn’t live with his wife after -that; there was a divorce and he married a Miss Sarah -Garnett. This Garnett Yarnall, they want to run, is -his son. Of course the whole Eaton clan hate the -Yarnalls like the devil, and Jacob hates Garnett -worse than that, because he’s never been able to -run him. Jacob likes to run things in a groove; he’s -a smart fellow, is Jacob.”</p> - -<p>Trench said nothing; he had filled his pipe and sat -smoking, the law book closed on his finger. The -judge swung back in his chair and clasped his hands -behind his head.</p> - -<p>“Of course he’ll marry Diana Royall. They’re -fourth cousins; Jinny is the colonel’s second cousin, -on his mother’s side; there’s a good deal of money -in the family, and I reckon they want to keep it there. -Anyway, Jacob’s set his mind—I’m not saying his -heart, for I don’t know that he’s got one—on getting -Diana; that’s as plain as the nose on a man’s -face, but Diana—well, there’s a proposition for -you!” and the judge chuckled.</p> - -<p>Trench knocked the ashes from his pipe very carefully -into a little cracked china plate that Miss Sarah -provided for the judge, and the judge never used.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span> -“Eaton is interested in some speculating schemes, -isn’t he?” he asked, without referring to Diana.</p> - -<p>The judge nodded. “He’s president of a company -developing some lands in Oklahoma, and he’s -connected in Wall Street; Jacob’s a smart fellow.”</p> - -<p>“Colonel Royall is interested, too, I suppose,” -Trench suggested tentatively.</p> - -<p>“Yep, got pretty much all his spare cash in, I -reckon; the colonel loves to speculate. It’s in the -blood, one way or another. His grandfather kept -the finest race-horses in the South, and his father lost -a small fortune on them. Of course David has to -dip in, but he’s never been much for horses. Besides, -he had a blow; his wife—” The judge stopped -abruptly and looked up.</p> - -<p>The door of the study had been opening softly and -closing again for the last few minutes. As he paused -it opened wider, and a woolly head came in cautiously.</p> - -<p>“What is it, Juniper?” he asked impatiently. -“Don’t keep a two-inch draught on my back; come -in or stay out.”</p> - -<p>The old negro opened the door wide enough to -squeeze his lean body through and closed it behind -him.</p> - -<p>“Evenin’, Jedge,” he said; “evenin’, Marse -Trench.”</p> - -<p>“What do you want now?” demanded the judge, -taking off his spectacles to polish them. There was -the ghost of a smile about his grim lips.</p> - -<p>Juniper turned his hat around slowly and looked<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span> -into the crown; it was a battered old gray felt and he -saw the pattern of the carpet through a hole in it. -“I’ve laid off ter ask yo’ how much it wud cost ter -git er divorce, suh?”</p> - -<p>Judge Hollis put on his spectacles and looked at -him thoughtfully. “Depends on the circumstances, -Juniper,” he replied. “I suppose Aunt Charity is -tired of you at last?”</p> - -<p>“No, suh, <i>she</i> ain’t, but I ez,” said Juniper indignantly; -“she done b’haved so onerary dat I’se sho -gwine ter be divorced, I ez, ef it don’ cost too much,” -he added dolefully.</p> - -<p>The judge’s eyes twinkled. “You’ll have to pay -her alimony,” he said.</p> - -<p>“What’s dat?” Juniper demanded with anxiety.</p> - -<p>“So much a week out of your wages,” explained -Trench, catching the judge’s eye.</p> - -<p>“I ain’t gwine ter do it, noways,” said Juniper -firmly.</p> - -<p>“Don’t you have to support her now?” Trench -asked mildly.</p> - -<p>Juniper looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully. -“I’se allus been proud ob de way she done washin’, -suh,” he said; “she sho do mek money dat away, -an’ I ain’t gwine ter complain ob noffin but de way -she behaved ’bout Miss Eaton’s silver teapot, dat -Miss Jinny done gib me fo’ a birthday present.”</p> - -<p>“Silver teapot?” Caleb Trench looked questioningly -at the judge.</p> - -<p>“Juniper had a birthday,” Judge Hollis explained<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span> -grimly, “and Aunt Charity gave him a birthday -party. I reckon we all sent Juniper something, but -Jinny Eaton gave him a silver-plated teapot, and -there have been squalls ever since. Who’s got that -teapot now, Juniper?”</p> - -<p>“She hab,” said Juniper indignantly. “I locked -dat teapot in my trunk, Judge, an’ I done tole her -dat she couldn’t hab it when I died bekase she’d -gib it ter dat mean trash son ob hers, Lysander, an’ -when I wus out she done got a locksmith ter gib her -a key ter fit dat trunk, an’ she got dat teapot, an’ -she’s gwine ter gib tea ter Deacon Plato Eaton, an’ -he hab er wife already, not sayin’ noffin ’bout concubines. -I ain’t gwine ter hab him drinkin’ no tea -outen dat silver teapot dat Miss Jinny done gib me. -I’se gwine ter git divorcement an’ I wants dat -teapot.”</p> - -<p>“Why don’t you settle it with Uncle Plato?” -asked the judge. “Assault and battery is cheaper -than divorce.”</p> - -<p>Juniper rubbed the back of his head thoughtfully. -“De fact ez, Jedge,” he said, “I ain’t sho dat I’se -gwine ter whip him.”</p> - -<p>“Juniper,” said the judge, “you tell Uncle Plato -from me that if he drinks tea out of that teapot -you’ll sue him for ten thousand dollars damages for -alienating your wife’s affections.”</p> - -<p>Juniper looked at him admiringly. “I sho will, -Jedge,” he said. “Alyanatying her ’fections! I sho -will! Dat sounds mos’ ez bad ez settin’ fire ter de<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span> -cou’t-house. I ’low Plato ain’t gwine ter cotch et ef -he kin help it. I sho ez grateful ter yo’ all, Jedge.”</p> - -<p>The judge swung his revolving chair around to -his desk. “Very good,” he said grimly; “you can -go now, Juniper.”</p> - -<p>The old man turned and shuffled back to the door; -as he opened it he bowed again. “Alyanatying her -’fections! I ’low I ain’t gwine ter fergit dat. Evenin’, -gentermen,” and he closed the door.</p> - -<p>The judge looked across at Caleb. “That’s one -of the Eaton faction,” he remarked grimly. “Yarnall -has to contend with that kind of cattle. Juniper’s -sold, body and soul, to the Eatons, and that old fool, -Jinny Eaton, gave him a silver-plated teapot for his -birthday. You might as well give a nigger a diamond -sunburst or a tame bear. He and his wife have been -at swords’ points ever since, but as sure as the first -Tuesday in November comes, that whole black horde -will vote the Eaton ticket.”</p> - -<p>Caleb Trench regarded the judge thoughtfully. -“You’d like to disfranchise the negro,” he remarked.</p> - -<p>Hollis grunted. “You’re a black Republican,” -he said bitingly.</p> - -<p>Trench shook his head. “No, sir, a conservative,” -he replied, “but an honest man, I hope. I haven’t -much more use for the ignorant black vote than you -have, but that question isn’t the one that hits me, -Judge.”</p> - -<p>The judge looked keenly at the grim composure of -the face opposite. “What does?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span>“Dishonesty, fraud, and intimidation,” Trench -answered.</p> - -<p>“And you propose to oppose and expose them?” -The old man was keenly interested, his heavy brows -drawn down, his eyes sparkling.</p> - -<p>“I do.”</p> - -<p>Judge Hollis rose and went over to the younger -man. He laid his hand on his shoulder. “You’re a -poor man, Trench; they’ll ruin you.”</p> - -<p>“So be it.”</p> - -<p>“You’re alone; they’ll kill you,” warned the -judge.</p> - -<p>Trench rose, and as his tall figure towered, the fine -width of his brow and the peculiar lucidity of his -glance had never seemed more striking. Judge Hollis -watched him in grim admiration.</p> - -<p>“I’ve got but one life,” he said, “and, as God sees -me, I’ll live that life in fear of no man.”</p> - -<p>The judge walked slowly back to his seat, took off -his spectacles and laid them down beside his brief. -“Reckon Jacob Eaton’s got his match at last,” he -said, “and, by the Lord Harry, I’m glad of it!”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">IV</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">DIANA ROYALL turned her horse’s head -from the highroad and began to descend the -Trail of the Cedar-bird. It was late afternoon, -and the glory of the west was suddenly obscured -with a bank of purple clouds; the distant -rumble of thunder jarred the stillness, and a moisture, -the promise of heavy rain, filled the air. Long -streamers of angry clouds drifted across the upper -sky, and far off the tall pines stirred restlessly.</p> - -<p>Regardless of these threatenings of Nature, Diana -rode on, under the interlacing boughs, swaying forward -sometimes in her saddle to avoid a sweeping -branch, while her horse picked his way in the narrow -path, often sending a loose stone rolling ahead of -them or crackling a fallen limb. Through long aisles -of young green she caught glimpses of the river; -now and then a frightened rabbit scurried across the -path or a squirrel chattered overhead. She loved -the voices of the wild things, the fragrant stillness of -the pinewoods, the perfume of young blossomings. -She brought her horse to a walk, passing slowly -along the trail; even the soft young leaves that -brushed against her shoulder were full of friendships. -She loved the red tips of the maples, and the new<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span> -buds of the hemlocks; she knew where she ought to -hear the sweet call—“Bob White!”—and once, -before the clouds threatened so darkly, she caught -the note of a song-sparrow. Life was sweet; there -was a joy merely in living, and she tried to crowd -out of her mind that little angry prick of mortification -that had stung her ever since she met the eyes -of Caleb Trench across her receipt. He had known -that she mocked him, had scorned to notice it, and -had showed that he was stronger mentally than she -was. In that single instant Diana had felt herself -small, malicious, discourteous, and the thought of -it was like the taste of wormwood. She resented it, -and resenting it, blamed herself less than she blamed -Trench. Why had he come on such a silly errand? -Why had he tempted her to rudeness? The question -had fretted her for weeks; for weeks she had avoided -passing the little old house at the Cross-Roads where -Caleb had lived now for three years. Yet, when she -came to the opening in the cedars, she drew near unconsciously -and looked down at the old worn gable -of his roof. It faced northeast, and there was moss -on its shingles; she saw a little thin trail of smoke -clinging close to the lip of the chimney, for the atmosphere -was heavy.</p> - -<p>Then she turned impatiently in the saddle, breaking -her vagrant thoughts away from the solitary man, -secretly angry that she had thought of him at all. -Her glance fell on a mass of blossoming wild honeysuckle, -and the loveliness of its rose tintings drew her;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span> -she slipped to the ground and patting her horse, left -the bridle loose on his neck. She had to gather up -her skirts and thread her way through a bracken of -ferns before she reached the tempting flowers and -began to gather them. She broke off a few sprays -and clustered them in her hands, pausing to look out -across the newly plowed fields to her right; they had -been sown to oats, and it seemed to her that she saw -the first faint drift of green on the crests of the furrows. -The next moment a crash of thunder shook -the air, the trees overhead cracked and bent low before -the onrush of the sudden gust. Her horse, a -restive creature, shied violently and stood shivering -with fear. Diana, grasping her flowers, started -through the ferns, calling to him, but a blinding flash -followed by more thunder forestalled her; the horse -rose on his haunches and stood an instant, quivering, -a beautiful untamed creature, his mane flying in the -wind, and then plunged forward and galloped down -the trail.</p> - -<p>Diana called to him again helplessly and foolishly, -for her voice was lost in the crackling of boughs and -the boom of thunder; she was alone in the lonely -spot, with the wind whistling in her ears. It ripped -the leaves from the trees overhead and she stood in -a hail of green buds. The fury of the gale increased, -the black clouds advanced across the heavens with long -streamers flying ahead of them, the light in the upper -sky went out, darkness increased; suddenly the -woods were twilight and she heard no sound but the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span> -mighty rush of the wind. As yet no rain fell, only -leaves, broken twigs, and, at last, great branches -crashed. The lightning tore the clouds apart in -fearful rents.</p> - -<p>It was a long way home, seven and a half miles, -and already big drops spattered through the trees. -Strangely enough, a thought of Caleb’s walk with -the six cents flashed in upon her and she resented it. -Yet the nearest shelter was the little shop at the -Cross-Roads. It made no difference, she would face -the storm; and she started boldly down the trail -though the bushes whipped against her skirt and the -boughs threatened her. Once a rolling stone nearly -threw her down, but she kept resolutely on. If the -horse went home riderless, what would they think? -She could only dimly conjecture Colonel Royall’s -distress, but she would not go to the little shop to -telephone; she would walk home!</p> - -<p>She kept steadily on. Twice the force of the wind -almost drove her back; twice she had to stop and -steady herself against a tree trunk. The thought -came to her that she had been foolish to stay out so -long, but she scarcely heeded it now, for the wind -had torn her hat off and loosened her hair, and it -was whipping her clothes about and tearing at her -like a malicious spirit. She reached the end of the -path and came into the turnpike just as the rain -came in a blinding sheet, white as sea-spray, and -closed down around her with a rush of water like a -cloudburst. She kept on with difficulty now, scarcely<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span> -seeing her way, and another rolling stone caught her -foot. She stumbled and nearly fell, straightening -herself with an agony darting through her ankle; she -had given it a sharp twist and it no longer bore her -weight without anguish. She reeled against a fence -at the wayside and held to it, trying to be sure that -she was in the road. Then another flash showed her -the shop at the Cross-Roads, not twenty feet away. -An hour before she could not have imagined her joy at -seeing it, now she had only the hope that she could -reach it. The pain in her ankle increased, and her -drenched clothes clung to her; she pulled herself -forward slowly, clinging to the fence. The roar of the -wind filled the world, and the rain drove in her face.</p> - -<p>She did not see the man in the door of the shop; -she did not know that, looking at the storm, he saw a -figure clinging to the fence, but she suddenly felt -herself lifted from the ground and borne forward in -strong arms. Then something seemed to snap in -her brain, she swam in darkness for a moment, with -the throb of pain reaching up to her heart, before she -lost even the consciousness of that.</p> - -<p>Afterwards, when light began to filter back, she -was being carried still, and almost instantly full comprehension -returned. She was aware that it was -Caleb Trench who carried her, and that he did it -easily, though she was no light burden. He was -taking her from the shop into his office beyond when -she recovered, and she roused herself with an effort -and tried to slip to the floor.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span>“Be careful,” he said quickly, with an authority in -his tone which, even at that moment, reached her; -“you may have sprained or broken your ankle, I do -not know which.” And he carried her to a plain old -leather lounge in the corner and put her gently down. -“Are you in pain?” he asked, turning up the lamp -which he had already lighted.</p> - -<p>The light fell on his face as well as upon hers, and as -she looked up, Diana was impressed with the vivid -force, the directness, the self-absorption of the man’s -look. If her presence there meant anything to him, -if he had felt her beauty and her charm as she lay -helpless in his arms, he gave no sign. It was a look -of power, of reserve, of iron will; she was suddenly -conscious of an impulse to answer him as simply as a -child.</p> - -<p>“It is nothing,” she said; “I don’t believe I’m -even hurt much. Where did you find me?”</p> - -<p>“Almost at my door,” he replied, moving quietly -to a kind of cupboard at the other side of the room -and pouring some brandy into a glass. “You must -drink this; your clothing is soaked through and I -have nothing dry to offer you, but if you can, come -to the fire.”</p> - -<p>Diana took the liquor and drank it obediently, unconsciously -yielding to the calm authority of his manner. -Then she tried to rise, but once on her feet, -staggered, and would have fallen but for his arm. -He caught her and held her erect a moment, then -gathered her up without a word, and carried her to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span> -a seat by the little open stove into which he had -already thrown some wood. Diana sank into his old -armchair with crimson cheeks. She was half angry, -half amused; he was treating her like an injured -child, and with as little heed of her grand-dame manners -as if she had been six years old.</p> - -<p>“I have telephoned to Dr. Cheyney,” he said simply, -“but, of course, this storm will delay him.”</p> - -<p>“I am not ill,” Diana protested. “I am not even -badly hurt; my horse ran away, and I—I think I -sprained my ankle.”</p> - -<p>“You were clinging to the fence,” Trench said, -without apparent emotion, “and you fainted when I -lifted you.”</p> - -<p>She sickened at the memory, yet was woman enough -to resent the man’s indifference. “I’m sorry you -’phoned for poor old Dr. Cheyney,” she said stiffly; -“please ’phone to my people to send for me.”</p> - -<p>“I tried,” he replied, undisturbed by her hauteur, -“but the storm must have interfered. I can’t get -them, and now I can’t get Dr. Cheyney.”</p> - -<p>“How long was I unconscious?” she asked quickly, -trying to piece together her recovery and all that he -had done.</p> - -<p>“Ten minutes,” he answered. “I saw the horse -going by riderless and went out to look. It seemed -a long time before I saw you coming and carried you -into the shop. I thought you were not coming to, -and you were so soaked with water that I had lifted -you to bring you to the fire when you recovered.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span>“I hope Jerry got home,” she said thoughtfully. -“It was my folly; I saw how black the clouds were, -and I ought to have gone home.”</p> - -<p>Trench stooped for more wood and fed the fire, the -glow lighting up his face again. “Where were you?” -he asked simply, and then “I beg your pardon—”</p> - -<p>“I was up the trail,” she said quietly. “I stayed -too long. It was beautiful; all the young things are -budding. I dismounted to gather some wild honeysuckle—and -it is gone!”</p> - -<p>For the first time his eyes met hers with a glow of -understanding. “Did you notice the turn above the -river?” he asked, still feeding the fire.</p> - -<p>She smiled reluctantly. “How white the cucumber -is,” she answered, “and did you see the red tips of -the maples? How glossy the new green leaves look!”</p> - -<p>“There is a place there, where the old hickory fell, -where you can see the orchard and that low meadow -by the lane—” His face was almost boyish, eager -for sympathy, awakened, changed.</p> - -<p>“It is beautiful,” Diana replied, nodding, “and one -hears the Bob White there.”</p> - -<p>“Ah!” he breathed softly, “you noticed?”</p> - -<p>Diana leaned her elbow on the worn arm of his -chair and nestled her chin in her hand, watching him. -After all, what manner of man was he?</p> - -<p>The storm, still raging in all its fury, shook the house -to its foundation; a deafening crash of thunder seemed -to demolish all other sounds. She glanced covertly -about the little room, seeking some explanation there.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span> -A village shopkeeper who was by nature a poet and a -mystic, and of whom men spoke as a politician—there -was a paradox. Something like amusement -touched the edge of her thought, but she tried for the -first time to understand. The room was small and -lined on two sides with rough bookshelves made of -unstained pine, yet there was a picturesqueness in -the medley of old books, grouped carelessly about -them. There were a few old worn leather chairs and -the lounge, a faded rug, a table littered with papers -and pens around the shaded lamp, beside which lay -his pipe. His dog, Shot, a yellow nondescript, lay -across the threshold, nose between paws, watching -her suspiciously. The place was homely yet severe, -clean but disorderly, and the strangest touch of all -was the big loose bunch of apple-blossoms in an old -earthen jar in the corner, the pink and white of the -fragile blooms contrasting charmingly with the dull -tintings of the earthenware, and bringing the fragrance -of spring into the little room. Their grouping, -and the corner in which he had placed them, where -the light just caught the beauty of the delicate petals, -arrested Diana’s thought.</p> - -<p>“You are an artist,” she remarked approvingly; -“or else—was it an accident?”</p> - -<p>He followed her glance and smiled, and she noticed -that, in spite of the rugged strength and homeliness -of his face, his rare smile had almost the sweetness of -a woman’s. “Not altogether accident,” he said, “but -the falling of the light which seems to lift them out<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span> -of the shadows behind them. Isn’t it fair that I -should have something beautiful in this shabby -place?”</p> - -<p>Diana colored; had he noticed her survey and -again thought her discourteous? She could say -nothing to refute its shabbiness and, for the moment, -her usual tact deserted her. She sat looking at the -apple-blossoms in silence while he rose from his place -as fire-feeder, and, going to the kitchen, came back -with a cup of hot tea.</p> - -<p>“You had better drink this,” he advised quietly; -“I’m afraid you’ll take cold. I hope the tea will -be right; you see I am ‘the cook and the captain -too.’”</p> - -<p>She took the cup, obediently again, and feeling like -a naughty child. “It is excellent,” she said, tasting it; -“I didn’t know a mere man could make such good -tea.”</p> - -<p>He laughed. “Once or twice, you know, men have -led a forlorn hope. I sometimes feel like that when I -attack the domestic mysteries.”</p> - -<p>“Courage has its own rewards—even in tea, then!” -she retorted, wondering if all the men who lived thus -alone knew how to do so many things for themselves? -In her experience it had been the other way. Colonel -Royall was as helpless as a baby and needed almost -as much care, and Jacob Eaton had a scornful disregard -of domestic details, only demanding his own -comforts, and expecting that his adoring mother would -provide them without annoying him with even the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span> -ways and means. It occurred to Diana that, perhaps, -it was the wide difference in social position, that gentlemen -might be helpless in matters where the humbler -denizens of the earth had to be accomplished; that, -in short, Caleb Trench must make his own tea or go -without, while Jacob Eaton could pay for the making -of an indefinite succession of cups of tea. Yet, was -this man entirely out of her class? Diana tasted the -tea, with a critical appreciation of its admirable qualities, -and quietly viewed the tea-maker. He was seated -again now in the old armchair by the table, and she -observed the strong lines of his long-fingered muscular -hands, the pose and firmness of the unquestionably intellectual -head. There was nothing commonplace, -nothing unrefined in his aspect, yet all her training -went to place between them an immeasurable social -chasm. She regarded him curiously, as one might regard -the habitant of another and an inferior hemisphere, -and he was poignantly aware of her mental -attitude. Neither spoke for a while, and nothing was -audible in the room but the crash and uproar of the -storm without. In contrast, the light and shelter of -the little place seemed like a flower-scented refuge -from pandemonium. Diana looked over her teacup -at the silent man, who seemed less ill at ease than she -was.</p> - -<p>“I think you are a stranger here, Mr. Trench,” she -said, in her soft voice; “at least, we who have been -here twenty years call every one else a stranger and -a sojourner in the land.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span>“I have been here only three years,” he replied, -“but I do not feel myself altogether a stranger—to -backwoodsmen,” he added ironically.</p> - -<p>She glanced up quickly, recalling the talk between -her father and Jacob Eaton. “Is it you who are organizing -them?” she asked lightly.</p> - -<p>Her question took him by surprise, and he showed -it; it seemed like an echo of old Judge Hollis. “I’m -no organizer, Miss Royall,” he replied simply, stooping -to caress the dog, who had come to lay his rough -head against his knee.</p> - -<p>She smiled; something in his manner, an indefinable -distinction and fineness, began to make her feel -at ease with him. “Is that mere modesty?” she -asked. “I wish you would tell me—I love politics -and,” she laughed gently, “I’m profoundly ignorant.”</p> - -<p>His rare smile lighted the repose of his strong face -again. “I am not a desirable teacher for you, Miss -Royall,” he replied; “I’m that abnormal thing, that -black sheep in the neighborhood, a Republican.”</p> - -<p>She leaned over and set her empty cup on the table. -“I am immensely interested,” she said. “A Republican -is almost as curious as the famed ‘Jabberwock.’ -It isn’t possible that you are making Republicans up -in the timberlands?”</p> - -<p>“Some one must have told you so,” he retorted -quietly, a flicker of humor in his grave eyes; “they -look upon me here as they would on a fox in a -chicken-yard.”</p> - -<p>She colored; she did not want to speak of her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span> -father or her cousin. “You see what a busy thing -rumor is,” she said.</p> - -<p>“You divine how harmless I am,” he went on, -stooping again to throw another stick into the blaze; -“a single Republican in a wilderness of Democrats. -I’m no better than one old woodchuck in a -cornfield.”</p> - -<p>“A little leaven will leaven the whole lump,” she -laughed.</p> - -<p>Her new tone, which was easy now and almost -friendly, touched him and melted his reserve; he -looked up smiling and caught her beauty and warmth, -the lovely contour of her face. Her hat had been lost, -and the fire was drying her moist hair, which was -loosened in soft curls about her forehead. Her presence -there began to reach the man’s inner consciousness, -from which he had been trying to shut her -out. He was fighting to bar his thought against her, -and her lovely presence in his room seemed to diffuse -a warmth and color and happiness that made his -pulses throb more quickly. Even the dog felt her -benign influence and looked up at her approvingly. -Trench steadied his mind to answer her banter in -her own tone.</p> - -<p>“The lump will reject the leaven first, I fear,” he -said lightly; “I never dreamed of such vivid convictions -with so little knowledge,” he added. “I come -from a race of calm reasoners; my people were -Quakers.”</p> - -<p>“Oh!” She blushed as the exclamation escaped<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span> -her, for she had suddenly remembered the six cents -and understood the absurdity of his seven-mile walk; -it was the Quaker in him. “I know nothing in the -world about Quakers beyond their—their—”</p> - -<p>“Hats?” he laughed; “like cardinals, they have -that distinction.”</p> - -<p>“Do you think me very ignorant?” she asked, unconscious -that she was bridging the social chasm -again and again, that she had, indeed, forgotten it -in her interest in the man. His dog had come over -now and laid his head in Diana’s lap, and she caressed -it unconsciously; the dumb overture of friendship -always touched her.</p> - -<p>Trench turned. The firelight was on both their -faces, and he met her eyes with that luminous glance -which seemed to compel hers. “It would be very -difficult for me to tell you what I think of you,” he -said deliberately, but with a humorous kindness in -his voice.</p> - -<p>Diana drew back; she was not sure that she was -annoyed. It was new, it was almost delightful to meet -a primitive person like this. She could not be sure of -social banalities here; he might say something new, -something that stirred her pulses at any moment. It -was an alarming but distinctly pleasurable sensation, -this excursion into another sphere; it was almost as -exciting as stealing pears. She looked at him with -sparkling eyes.</p> - -<p>“Couldn’t you try?” she asked daringly, and felt -a tremulous hope that he would, though she could not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span> -believe it possible that he would calmly cross the -social Rubicon again, and make her feel that all men -were and are “of necessity free and equal.”</p> - -<p>“You do not really wish me to try,” he retorted; -“to you this is an adventure, and I”—he smiled, -but a deeper emotion darkened his eyes—“I am the -dancing bear.”</p> - -<p>Her cheeks reddened yet more deeply, and her -breath came quickly. What had she done? Opened -the way for a dilemma? This man would not be led; -he was a new and alarming problem. She was trying -to collect her thoughts to answer him, to put back -the old tone of trivial banter, to restore the lost -equilibrium, but happily she was spared the task. -The tempest had lulled unnoticed, while they talked, -and they were suddenly aware that the shop-door had -opened and closed again, and some one was coming -toward them. The next moment Dr. Cheyney appeared -at the threshold, and Diana sank back into -the shelter of the old chair with a feeling of infinite -relief.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">V</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">HALF an hour later Caleb Trench was helping -his two guests into the doctor’s old-fashioned, -high-topped buggy.</p> - -<p>“That’ll do, Caleb; I’ve got her safely tucked in,” -Dr. Cheyney said, as he gathered the reins up and -disentangled them from old Henk’s tail. “I reckon -Henk and I can carry her all right; she isn’t any -more delicate than a basket of eggs.”</p> - -<p>Diana smiled in her corner of the carriage. “Thank -you again, Mr. Trench,” she said gently; “it’s nice -to have some one considerate. Dr. Cheyney has always -scolded me, and I suppose he always will.”</p> - -<p>“Think likely,” the doctor twinkled; “you mostly -deserve it, Miss Royall.”</p> - -<p>“He’s worse when he calls me names,” Diana -lamented, and bowed her head again to Caleb as old -Henk started deliberately upon his way.</p> - -<p>The hood of the vehicle shut off her view, and she -did not know that Trench stood bareheaded in the -rain to watch the receding carriage, until the drenched -green boughs locking over the road closed his last -glimpse of it in a mist-wreathed perspective, beautiful -with wind-beaten showers of dogwood bloom.</p> - -<p>The two inside the buggy were rather silent for a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span> -while. Diana was watching the light rainfall. The -sun was breaking through the clouds, and the atmosphere -became wonderfully translucent. Great -branches were strewn by the way, and a tall pine, -cleft from tip to root, showed the course of a thunderbolt. -The stream was so swollen that old Henk -forded with cautious feet, and the water lapped -above the carriage step.</p> - -<p>“Drowned out most of the young crops,” Dr. -Cheyney remarked laconically.</p> - -<p>“What sort of a man is Caleb Trench?” Diana -asked irrelevantly.</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney looked around at her with quizzical -eyes. “A shopkeeper,” he replied. “I reckon that’s -about as far as you got before to-day, wasn’t it?”</p> - -<p>She colored. “I suppose it was,” she admitted, -and then added, “Not quite, doctor; I saw that he -was odd.”</p> - -<p>The old man smiled. “Di,” he said, “when you -were no higher than my knee you’d have been more -truthful. You know, as well as I do, that the man is -above the average; he’s keeping shop and reading -law down at Judge Hollis’ office, and he’s trying to -teach the backwoodsmen honest politics. Taken out -a pretty large contract, eh?”</p> - -<p>Diana looked down at her fine strong hands lying -crossed in her lap; her face was deeply thoughtful. -“I suppose he’s bent on rising in politics,” she said, -with a touch of scorn in her voice; “the typical self-made -man.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span>“You didn’t happen to know that he was a gentleman,” -Dr. Cheyney remarked dryly.</p> - -<p>She met his eye and smiled unwillingly. “I did,” -she said; “I saw it—to-night.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you did, did you?” The old man slapped -Henk with the reins. “Well, what else did you see?”</p> - -<p>“Very little, I imagine,” she replied. “I suppose I -thought he had ‘a story’; that’s the common thing, -isn’t it?”</p> - -<p>“Maybe,” admitted the doctor, “but it isn’t so, -as far as I know. Caleb Trench comes of good old -stock in Pennsylvania. His father lost a fortune -just before Caleb left college; the old man’s dead, -and his wife, too. Trench has had to work and work -hard. He couldn’t take his law course, and he’s -never complained. He got together a little money -and had to pay it all out for his sister; she was -dying of some spinal trouble, and had to be nursed -through a long illness and buried. Trench gave every -cent; now he’s making a new start. Hollis likes -him, so does Miss Sarah.”</p> - -<p>Diana smiled. “It’s something to please Miss -Sarah.”</p> - -<p>“I never did,” said William Cheyney calmly; “she -declares I tried to poison her last time she was laid up -with sciatica. She’s taking patent medicines now, -and when she’s at the last gasp she’ll send for me -and lay the blame on my shoulders.”</p> - -<p>“It’s hard to be a doctor after all, isn’t it?” -laughed Diana; then she leaned forward and caught<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span> -the blossoming end of a vagrant dogwood and broke -off the flowers as they passed. “Dr. Cheyney,” she -went on, after a long moment, “I’ve wanted you to -see father again; I don’t believe he’s well.”</p> - -<p>“Why not?” asked the doctor, his eyes on the -mist of rain that seemed to move before them like -the pillar of cloud before the Israelites.</p> - -<p>“He’s moody,” she said, “he’s almost sad at -times and—and he spent an hour in the Shut -Room—” She paused and looked questioningly at -the old man beside her, but he made no comment.</p> - -<p>In the pause they heard the slush of Henk’s hoofs -in the muddy road.</p> - -<p>“I wish he wouldn’t,” Diana continued; “it’s -beautiful—his devotion to my mother’s memory, -but I—I’m jealous of that Shut Room, it makes -him so unhappy. Couldn’t I break it up by taking -him away?”</p> - -<p>The doctor shook his head. “Better not, Diana,” -he cautioned her, “better not. You can’t uproot an -old tree. Let him fight his battle out alone.”</p> - -<p>“I can’t bear that he should be alone,” she protested -tenderly. “I can’t bear to be shut out even -from his griefs. Pa and I are all in all to each -other. Why does he never speak of mother? Is -it his sorrow?”</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney nodded, pursing his lips. Henk -jogged on.</p> - -<p>“It’s a long time,” said Diana, “I was only three -years old.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span>“Let it be, my girl,” the old man counseled; “we -can’t enter the upper chamber of the soul, you know. -David’s got to fight it out. Sometimes”—the -doctor let the reins go so slack that old Henk walked—“sometimes -grief is like a raw cut, Diana, and we -can’t put in a few stitches either; got to leave that -to Providence.”</p> - -<p>“He isn’t well,” Diana insisted.</p> - -<p>“He’d be no better for my meddling,” Dr. Cheyney -retorted, unmoved.</p> - -<p>“I wanted him to go East with me,” she continued, -“to go to New York.”</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney glanced up quickly. “And he -wouldn’t?”</p> - -<p>Diana shook her head.</p> - -<p>“Don’t you ask it,” cautioned the old man. “It’s -the time of year when your father’s full of notions; -let him be.”</p> - -<p>“The time of year”—Diana met the doctor’s -kindly eyes—“when mother died?”</p> - -<p>William Cheyney turned red. The girl, looking at -him, saw the dull red stealing up to the old man’s -white hair and wondered.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” he said.</p> - -<p>“Do I look like her?” Diana asked, after a moment -of perplexed thought.</p> - -<p>“No!” said Dr. Cheyney shortly.</p> - -<p>Old Henk had climbed the last hill,—the one that -always seems to meet the sky until you have climbed -it,—and there, below it, unfolded the wide valley<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span> -with the brown of new-plowed fields and the long -strips of lovely foliage. The mist of the rain was -molten gold now, and a rainbow spanned the sky.</p> - -<p>“I wish I did!” Diana sighed regretfully.</p> - -<p>“You’re the handsomest woman in the State,” -the old doctor retorted tartly. “What more do you -want?”</p> - -<p>“The kingdoms of earth,” replied Diana, and -laughed softly.</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney disentangled the rein again from -old Henk’s tail, and they turned the corner.</p> - -<p>“Diana,” he said abruptly, “did you happen to -ask Caleb Trench to call?”</p> - -<p>“I?” Diana flushed crimson. “No,” she said reluctantly, -“I didn’t.”</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney shook with silent laughter. “That’s -the way you treat the good Samaritan,” he said. -“I’d rather be the Levite, Di.”</p> - -<p>She leaned back in her corner of the carriage, -blushing but resentful, a line between her brows. “It -wouldn’t be any use,” she said. “I—I couldn’t -make him feel welcome there.”</p> - -<p>“You mean that Cousin Jacob would insult him,” -Dr. Cheyney said bluntly.</p> - -<p>She stiffened. “I should protect my own guests,” -she retorted hotly.</p> - -<p>“Could you?” asked the doctor dryly.</p> - -<p>Diana met his eyes indignantly; then a throb of -pain in her ankle made her wince.</p> - -<p>“I reckon it does hurt, Di.” The old man smiled<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span> -compassionately. “I’ll bandage it when we get you -home. Don’t be capering off your horse again in -thunder-storms.”</p> - -<p>“I’d be sure to break my neck next time, I suppose,” -she said ruefully.</p> - -<p>“Let it be a leg, Di,” advised the doctor, “that -would give me a job; the other would all go to the -undertaker. He told me once,” he added, with a -twinkle, “that we worked so much together we ought -to have a common interest. I believe he wanted to -found a trust—‘doctors’ and undertakers’ amalgamated -protected’—or something of that sort. I -begged off on the ground of injury to my profession. -I told him it wouldn’t do for a poor man like me to -go into a trust with a rich planter.”</p> - -<p>“Dr. Cheyney,” Diana interrupted, “I don’t want -you to think that Jacob Eaton rules our house; he -has more influence with father than I wish he had, -but he can’t rule father.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose you’ll marry him in the end,” William -Cheyney remarked reflectively.</p> - -<p>Diana, leaning back in her corner, looked thoughtful. -“No,” she said slowly, “I don’t believe I -will.”</p> - -<p>The doctor slapped Henk again with his loose rein. -“Why not?” he asked dispassionately.</p> - -<p>She thought a moment, a gleam of mischief deepening -in her glance. “For one thing, his eyes are too -near together,” she said at last.</p> - -<p>“There’s no telling but what you could get them<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span> -spaced better,” he replied, twinkling; “science is -advancing, and so is wireless telegraphy.”</p> - -<p>Diana laughed. “Some one will like them as they -are,” she said, “and Jacob thinks them handsome.”</p> - -<p>“Sleek young cub!” said the doctor, turning in at -the gate that led to the old white house with its two -wings and its belvedere. “I’d like you to marry a -real man, Di.”</p> - -<p>Diana leaned her head back in the corner and -closed her eyes, as the throbbing pain held her breathless -again. Then she smiled. “Dr. Cheyney,” she -said, “do you remember the time I cried because you -wouldn’t give me the pink capsules?”</p> - -<p>“You were seven,” replied the doctor placidly. -“I remember. They would have killed you, but -you screamed for them; you raised Cain about -them.”</p> - -<p>“I wanted my own way,” said Diana, “and I -want it still. I think I’d better be an old maid.”</p> - -<p>Old Henk was jogging up the path, and before the -doctor could reply a negro stableman came running -breathless, and stopped at the sight of Diana.</p> - -<p>“Fo’ de Lawd, Miss Di!” he said, “I’se glad ter -see you. Jerry done come home drenched, an’ we ’se -been out searchin’—scared ter tell de col’nel.”</p> - -<p>“You old rogue!” said the doctor, “he was the -first one to tell. Miss Diana has sprained her ankle.”</p> - -<p>“He was right,” said Diana promptly; “father -would have been out in the storm and never found -me. Texas, go on up and tell the colonel that I’ve<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span> -hurt my ankle; I won’t have him worried, and I -can’t walk well enough to deceive him.”</p> - -<p>The doctor looked at her quizzically. “That’s -right, Di,” he said, driving on; “you’ve spoilt him, -but I reckon he can stand it if I can.”</p> - -<p>“He began it,” she laughed softly; “he spoilt me -first.”</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney laughed too. “Perhaps he did,” he -admitted gently,—“perhaps he did, but I’m not -sure; you’ve got to have your trial, Diana.”</p> - -<p>They were at the door now, and she laid her hand -suddenly over the old man’s. “Dr. Cheyney,” she -said, “won’t you thank Caleb Trench and tell him -I’d be glad to have him come up here? I want to -thank him again properly.”</p> - -<p>“No,” said Dr. Cheyney promptly, “I won’t.”</p> - -<p>Diana’s eyes opened. “Why?” she demanded, -flushing hotly, half indignant.</p> - -<p>The doctor looked over the top of his spectacles. -“He wouldn’t come, Diana,” he said; “you wouldn’t -either, in his place.”</p> - -<p>She did not answer, but turned away abruptly and -reached out both hands to Texas, who helped her -down. “Good-bye, doctor,” she said coolly, standing -with one hand on the negro’s shoulder.</p> - -<p>The doctor climbed out. “Go to!” he said, smiling -grimly; “I’m coming in to bandage your ankle. -Don’t cry for the pink capsules again, Di.”</p> - -<p>And Diana turned crimson with anger.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">VI</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">IN the weeks that followed, while Diana nursed -her sprained ankle in enforced retirement, -changes were taking place at the Cross-Roads. -Caleb Trench did not close his little shop, but he put -out the new sign: “Caleb Trench, Attorney-at-law.”</p> - -<p>The little rear room, into which he had carried -Diana, was converted into an office, with a new table -and another bookcase. Shot, the yellow mongrel, -moved from the rear door to the front, and the great -metamorphosis was complete. If we could only -change our souls as easily as we do our surroundings, -how magnificent would be the opportunities of life!</p> - -<p>Caleb Trench had opened his law office, but as yet -he had no clients, that is, no clients who were likely -to pay him fees. The countrymen who traded with -him and knew him to be honest came by the score -to consult him about their difficulties, but they had -no thought of paying for Caleb’s friendship, and -Caleb asked them nothing. Yet his influence with -them grew by that subtle power that we call personal -magnetism, and which is, more truly, the magnetism of -vital force and sometimes of a clear unbiased mind.</p> - -<p>For the most part Caleb and the dog sat together -in the office, and their friendship for each other was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span> -one of the natural outcomes of the master’s life. The -solitary man loved his dog, and the dog, in turn, -adored him and lay content for hours at his feet. It -was the seventh week after he had carried Diana into -his little shop, and as he sat there, by his desk, the -moving sunshine slanting across the floor of the office, -he recalled the instant when her head lay unconsciously -on his shoulder and her cheek touched his -rough coat. For one long moment his mind dwelt on -it, and dwelt on her by his fire, with the glow of it in -her eyes, her soft voice, her sweet manners, in which -there was just a suggestion of condescension, until -she forgot it and spoke to him naturally and freely. -He saw her plainly again, as plainly as he saw the -swaying boughs of the silver birch before his window. -Then he thrust the thought resolutely away and -turned almost with relief to face the shambling country -youth who had entered without knocking.</p> - -<p>“Well, Zeb?” he said shortly, but not unkindly.</p> - -<p>“I stopped by ter see yo’, Mr. Trench,” Zeb Bartlett -drawled slowly; “I thought mebbe yo’d help -me out.”</p> - -<p>Trench glanced at him and saw that he had been -drinking. He was a lean, lank boy of nineteen, with -a weak face that gave evidence of a weaker brain, -and he bore a strong resemblance to his half-sister; -he was accounted almost an idiot by the gossips of -Eshcol, and was always in trouble, but, as he was the -only grandson of a poor old woman, he escaped his -deserts.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span>“What do you want now, Zeb?” Trench asked -dryly, turning back to his papers; he was still studying -law with a zeal that was later to bear fruit in the -case that divided Eshcol.</p> - -<p>“I want two dollahs,” Zeb said with a whine. “I -haven’t had any work fer a week, an’ Jean’s starvin’ -agin. Gimme two dollahs, Mr. Trench, an’ I’ll return -it with—with interes’ on Saturday night, sho’,” -he said, triumphing at the end, and pulling off his -soft felt hat to rub his head helplessly.</p> - -<p>“Not two cents,” said Caleb; “you’d get drunk.”</p> - -<p>“I sure won’t!” protested Zeb, his mouth drooping -and his hands falling weakly at his sides, as if he had -suddenly lost the starch necessary to keep his lines -crisp. “I ain’t seen liquor fer a month.”</p> - -<p>“What have you been drinking then?” Trench -asked, with the ghost of a smile.</p> - -<p>“Water,” said Zeb, rallying, “water—ef it warn’t -fer that I’d be dry ez punk. ’Deed, Mr. Trench, I -needs money. Jean’s mighty sick.”</p> - -<p>“No, she isn’t,” said Caleb. “I spoke to her at -the market this morning.”</p> - -<p>Zeb’s mouth opened again, like a stranded fish, and -he stared; but he wanted the money. “She wuz -took sick after that,” he explained, brightening, “she -asked me ter git it. Gimme er dollah, Mr. Trench.”</p> - -<p>“No,” said Caleb.</p> - -<p>“Fifty cents,” whined Zeb, but a sullen look was -coming into his light eyes.</p> - -<p>“No!”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span>“Twenty-five cents!” pleaded the borrower, -wheedling, but with angry eyes.</p> - -<p>“Not a cent; you’d spend it on whiskey,” Caleb -said.</p> - -<p>Zeb’s face changed, the cringing attitude of a -seeker of a favor fell from him, he snarled. “You’re -a low-down, mean, sniveling shopkeeper!” he began. -“I believe Jean’s tellin’ on yo’, sure enough, I—”</p> - -<p>Caleb rose from his seat, his great figure towering -over the drunkard, as he took him by the collar -and thrust him out the door. “Go home,” he said, -“and don’t you ever come here again!”</p> - -<p>Zeb fell out of his hand and shambled up against -the silver birch, sputtering. He hated Trench, but -he was afraid to give voice to his wrath. Besides, -Shot was between them now, every hair erect on the -ridge of his spine. Zeb shook his fist and trembled.</p> - -<p>“Go home,” said Trench again, and then to the dog, -“Come, Shot!” and he turned back contemptuously.</p> - -<p>As he did so, a tall farmer in brown homespun, with -a wide-brimmed straw hat, drove up in his light -wagon and got down to speak to him. The newcomer’s -eyes fell on Zeb. “Drunk again,” he remarked.</p> - -<p>Trench nodded, and the two went into the office.</p> - -<p>Zeb Bartlett sank down under the trees and wept; -he was just far enough gone to dissolve with self-pity. -He believed Trench to be a monster who owed -him two dollars for his very existence. He sat under -the silver birch and babbled and shook his fist. Then -his thirst overcame him, and he gathered himself<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span> -together again and shambled down the road toward -the nearest public house. He usually earned his -drinks by scrubbing the floors, but this morning he -had not felt like scrubbing and, because scrub he -must, he hated Caleb Trench yet more, and turned -once in the road to shake his fist and weep.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Trench was going patiently through -the papers of his new visitor, Aaron Todd. The -stout mountaineer owned timberlands, had a sawmill -and grew corn on his fertile lower meadows for -the city markets. Todd was considered rich, and his -money was sought for new investments. The get-rich-quick -machines thrive upon the outlying districts. -Todd had been asked to put more money in -the Eaton Land Company; he had some there already -and was suddenly smitten with a caution that -sent him to Caleb. The lawyer was new, but the -clear brain of the shopkeeper had been tested. Todd -knew him, and watched as he turned the papers over -and read the glowing circular of the Land Company, -its capital, its stock and its declared dividends. It -was alluring and high sounding, a gilt-edged affair.</p> - -<p>Trench looked up from the long perusal, the perpendicular -line between his brows sharp as a scar. -“Are you all in?” he asked abruptly.</p> - -<p>Todd shook his head. “No,” he said tersely, -“about five thousand. I could put in ten, but that -would strip me down to the ground. The interest’s -large and I need it if I’m to run that sawmill another -year.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span>“Don’t do it,” said Trench.</p> - -<p>As Todd took back the papers and strapped them -together with an India-rubber band, his face was -thoughtful. “Why not?” he asked at last; “you’ve -got a reason.”</p> - -<p>Trench nodded.</p> - -<p>Todd looked at him keenly. “Mind tellin’ it?” -he asked.</p> - -<p>“Why, yes,” said Caleb, “it’s not proven, but -I’m willing to show you one objection; this scheme -is offering abnormal interest—”</p> - -<p>“And paying it,” threw in Todd.</p> - -<p>“And paying it now,” admitted Trench, “but for -how long? Why can they pay ten per cent when the -others only pay four and a half? I’d put my money -in the four and a half per cent concerns and feel safe. -When a firm offers such an inducement, it’s not -apt to be sound; it isn’t legitimate business, as I -see it.”</p> - -<p>Todd put the papers slowly back into his pocket. -“Mebbe you’re right,” he admitted, “but they’re -all in it; I reckon the whole East Mountain district’s -in it, an’ half of Eshcol. They say it’s Jacob Eaton’s.”</p> - -<p>Trench strummed lightly on the desk with his -fingers. “So they say,” he assented without emotion.</p> - -<p>Todd ruminated, cutting off a piece of tobacco. -“Eaton’s bent on lickin’ Yarnall out of the nomination, -an’ we don’t want Aylett again. I believe I’ll -take to your ticket,” he remarked.</p> - -<p>Trench looked at him, and his full regard had a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span> -singularly disconcerting effect; Diana herself had felt -it. “Vote for Peter Mahan,” he said coolly.</p> - -<p>“See here, Trench,” said Todd abruptly, “I believe -you’d make a man vote for the devil if you -looked at him like that!”</p> - -<p>Caleb laughed, and his laugh was as winning as -his smile; both were rare. “I’m only suggesting -Mahan,” he said.</p> - -<p>“We’ve never had a Republican, not since five -years before the war. That was before I was born,” -Todd replied. “It would sweep out every office-holder -in the State, I reckon.”</p> - -<p>“Where’s your civil service?” asked Trench -dryly.</p> - -<p>“It’s rotten,” said Todd. “There ain’t a man in -now that ain’t an Eaton or an Aylett runner. I’d a -damned sight rather hunt a flea in a feather-bed than -try to catch Jacob Eaton when he’s dodging in -politics.”</p> - -<p>“Yet Mr. Eaton has you all in the hollow of his -hand,” said Trench. “You don’t like his methods; -you’re all the time reviling his politics, but there -isn’t a man among you that dares vote the Republican -ticket. It’s not his fault if he is your boss.”</p> - -<p>Todd rubbed the back of his head. “There’s a -pesky lot of truth in that,” he admitted reluctantly, -“but—well, see here, Mr. Trench, about three -quarters of the county’s his, anyway, and the rest of -it belongs to men who’ve invested with him an’ -they’re afraid to run against him.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span>“This Land Company seems to be about the biggest -political engine he has,” Caleb remarked. “Twenty-nine -out of every thirty tell me the same story. Practically, -then, Mr. Eaton hasn’t bought you, but he’s -got your money all in his control, you elect his underlings -and through them he governs you, speculates -with your money, and, in time, you’ll send him to -the United States Senate. As a matter of fact, if -the same system worked in the other States, he could -be President.”</p> - -<p>“By George, so he could! I hadn’t thought of it,” -said Todd, letting his heavy fist fall on the table with -a force that made every article on it dance. “Mr. -Trench, I want you to put that before the people up -to Cresset’s Corners. There’s going to be a town -meeting there on Friday night. If you’ll let me, -I’ll post it in the post-office that you’ll speak on the -Republican ticket. You can just drop this in as you -go along.”</p> - -<p>Caleb thought hard, drawing a line on the table -with his paper-cutter. “I’m perfectly willing to -speak for the Republican ticket,” he said, amused, -“but this is not germane to that subject. If they ask -questions I’ll answer them, but I wouldn’t start out -to attack Mr. Eaton personally without grounds. -I’ve said all I want to say here and now; of course -I’ll say it over again in public, but I can’t throw -Mr. Eaton’s method into the Republican ticket.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll ask all the questions,” said Todd. “What I -want is, to get the facts out. Everybody’s for Eaton<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span> -because everybody’s scairt, an’ really Yarnall’s the -best man we’ve got.”</p> - -<p>“Then vote for Yarnall,” Trench advised coolly.</p> - -<p>“He ain’t Republican, an’ you want the Republican -ticket,” protested Todd, a little bewildered.</p> - -<p>“We can’t elect it,” said Caleb; “even with the -Democratic Party split, we can’t get votes enough. -If you’re a Democrat vote for Yarnall.”</p> - -<p>Todd folded his tobacco pouch and thrust it into -his trousers’ pocket, with burrowing thoughtfulness, -then he pulled the crease out of his waistcoat. “How -many have you said that to?” he asked.</p> - -<p>Trench smiled. “To every man who has asked me,” -he replied, “the Republican ticket first and Yarnall -next.”</p> - -<p>Todd rose and picked up his broad hat. “I reckon -we’ll have Yarnall after all,” he drawled, “but you’ll -speak Friday, Trench?”</p> - -<p>Trench nodded.</p> - -<p>Just then some one came into the shop with the -frou-frou of ruffled skirts. Caleb went out, followed -by Shot first and Todd last. Shot greeted the newcomer -with uplifted paw. Miss Kitty Broughton -bowed and shook hands with the dog, laughing; -she was very pretty, and in a flowered muslin, with -a broad-brimmed saucy straw, she looked the incarnation -of spring. No one would have imagined that -she was a granddaughter of old Judge Hollis and a -grandniece of Miss Sarah.</p> - -<p>She went up to the counter and pushed a square<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span> -white envelope across to Caleb. Meanwhile, Aaron -Todd had gone out to his wagon and was climbing -into it. Trench took the envelope, smiling back into -Miss Kitty’s laughing blue eyes, and opened it.</p> - -<p>“So you’re ‘out,’ are you, Miss Broughton?” he -asked, “or is this only the first alarm?”</p> - -<p>“It’s my first really and truly ball,” said Kitty, -“and Aunt Sarah’s going to lead the Virginia Reel!” -She clapped her hands delightedly. “You’ll come, -Mr. Trench?”</p> - -<p>“I haven’t been to a ball in six years,” replied -Caleb, smiling, “I wouldn’t know a soul. You’re -good to me, Miss Broughton, and I’ll send a bouquet.”</p> - -<p>“You’ll come!” said Kitty.</p> - -<p>He shook his head, still smiling. “Shot would be -better fun,” he said; “you mustn’t invite shopkeepers, -Miss Kitty.”</p> - -<p>Kitty pouted, but a red streak went up to her hair. -She knew she would be teased by her intimates later -for that very thing. Yet Caleb was a gentleman, and -Judge Hollis loved him; Kitty was not sure that she -could not love him herself if he tried to make her, -but he never did, and he looked as detached now as a -pyramid of Egypt, which was a nettle to her vanity.</p> - -<p>“Will you come?” she demanded, leaning on the -counter and nestling her little round chin into the -hollow of her hands. Something in the gesture made -him think of Diana—if Kitty had but known it!</p> - -<p>“Can’t you let me off?” he asked good-naturedly.</p> - -<p>She shook her head. “Please come,” she said. “I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span> -bet Judge Hollis a dollar that I’d make you—and -I’ll have to go without my dollar if you refuse; he -swore you would.”</p> - -<p>“Suppose you let me pay the debt, Miss Kitty?” -Caleb smiled.</p> - -<p>She shook her head. “Oh, it’s more than the -money,” she protested. “He’ll say I couldn’t get -you to come. I’ve got some pride about it; I hate -to be laughed at.”</p> - -<p>“So do I,” sympathized Trench, “and they’ll -laugh at me for going. They’ll call me the Yankee -shopkeeper—but I’ll go.”</p> - -<p>She clapped her hands delightedly. “Really? -Honor bright?”</p> - -<p>“Honor bright,” he affirmed; “will you dance with -me, Miss Broughton?”</p> - -<p>“The very first dance,” laughed Kitty. “You’re -the captive of my bow and spear. You’ll be angry, -too, for everybody wants to dance first with Diana -Royall. She’s the belle, and her sprained ankle’s -well again. Was it true that you carried her in out of -the rain?” she asked curiously, her blue eyes dancing.</p> - -<p>“I didn’t know you gossiped,” parried Trench.</p> - -<p>“Oh, I love it!” she protested, “and Diana won’t -tell me. It sounds so romantic, too. I’ll know, -though—because you’ll ask her to dance next if -you did.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t think you will know,” said Caleb.</p> - -<p>She looked across the counter at him, her head on -one side. “Why won’t you tell me?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span>“Ask Miss Royall,” he suggested quietly.</p> - -<p>“I know it’s true now!” Kitty cried.</p> - -<p>“Go home and mind your own business, you minx!” -said Judge Hollis, suddenly appearing, his large figure -filling the door. “Don’t let her waste your time, -Caleb,—the idlest little girl in the county.”</p> - -<p>“I’ve won my dollar!” cried Kitty, presenting an -ungloved little hand, the pink palm up; “pay your -debts, sir.”</p> - -<p>The judge laughed and drew out a silver dollar. -“Are you going, Caleb?” he asked. “I won’t pay -till I’m certain; the baggage fleeces me.”</p> - -<p>“I’ve promised,” said Caleb, smiling; “she’s -fairly earned it, Judge.”</p> - -<p>“There it is, miss,” said the judge and kissed her. -“Now go home!”</p> - -<p>Kitty laughed. “I can’t,” she said, “I’ve got a -dollar more to spend at Eshcol. I’m going into -town. Good-bye, and be sure you come, Mr. Trench.”</p> - -<p>“He will,” said the judge firmly, “or you’ll refund -that dollar.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll go, Miss Broughton,” Caleb said, though in -his heart he dreaded it; he had a proud man’s aversion -to meeting discourtesy from those who despised -his poverty, and he had observed the red when it -stained Kitty’s cheek. But, after all, it was a small -matter, he reflected; to one of Caleb’s habits of -thought the social part of life was a small matter. -Yet it is the small things which prick until the blood -comes.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">VII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">A WEEK from that day Caleb Trench addressed -a crowd of backwoodsmen and some -of the Eshcol farmers at the town hall at -Cresset’s Corners. Even if a reporter had not been -there, it would have passed by word of mouth all -over the county, and, later, through the State.</p> - -<p>There are moments when the eloquence of man -consists in telling the truth, the whole truth, and -nothing but the truth. The fact that the countrymen -had not heard it for nearly fifteen years clothed -it with spell-binding powers. For half an hour Caleb -Trench talked to them with extraordinary simplicity -and directness; when he had finished they knew how -they were governed and why. He had the power of -making his argument clear to the humblest, and yet -convincing to the most learned, which is the power -that men call persuasion. In that half-hour they found -that they had raised up the Golden Calf themselves, -and that it had smitten them. Jacob Eaton suddenly -appeared like a huge spider whose golden web had -immeshed the entire State, while they themselves -were hung in it like wounded flies. Yet, yesterday, -Jacob Eaton had been a young man of fine family -and immense influence. That night they went home<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span> -disputing and lay awake, in the agonies of reflection, -trying to find a way to withdraw themselves from his -investments; that they could not find it involved -them in still deeper distress. All this while, the -figure of Caleb Trench began to stand out sharply -and suddenly, like the silhouette thrown on the sheet -by the lamp of the stereopticon.</p> - -<p>He made no effort to keep himself before them; -having told them the truth, he acted as if he had performed -his mission and went about his own business, -which was chiefly, just then, keeping shop and reading -law only at night. The summer trade was on, the -roads were good, and customers more plentiful than -clients.</p> - -<p>Thursday night was the date of Kitty Broughton’s -ball; Wednesday, of the previous week, brought Caleb -his first client. The two events afterwards fixed many -things in his memory, for at this time he was trying -to forget that Miss Royall had ever sat in his old armchair -by the stove. The peculiarly haunting qualities -of some individuals, who are not spooks, is past explanation. -Caleb felt that there was no more pricking -misery than to see eternally one face and one figure -in his favorite chair, when neither of them could ever -possibly belong there, and it was to his interest to forget -them. There should be, by the way, a method -for exorcising such ghosts and compelling their rightful -owners to keep them labeled in a locked cabinet -instead of projecting them upon the innocent and the -defenseless. Caleb’s method consisted, at present, in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span> -turning the old chair upside down in the closet back -of the kitchen, which ought to have discouraged any -self-respecting ghost, yet Wednesday morning he got -it out again and put it reverently in its place, with a -sheepish feeling of having committed a crime in trying -to dishonor it.</p> - -<p>It was after the ceremony of restoration that -Juniper arrived with a long face. He had been temporarily -reconciled to Aunt Charity and was shouldering -her chief responsibility, her son Lysander.</p> - -<p>“De jedge, he sent me down ter see yo’, suh,” -Juniper explained, twisting his battered hat as usual. -“I’se in a po’erful lot ob trouble an’ so ez de ole -woman.”</p> - -<p>Caleb moved a little impatiently. “The silver teapot?” -he asked dryly.</p> - -<p>“No,” said Juniper, without embarrassment, “no, -suh; de folks up ter de Corners ez gwine ter hab -Lysander ’rested. I reckon dey hez had him ’rested -a’ready. Dey says he dun stole der chickens on -Monday. Et wuz de dark ob de moon, suh, an’ dat -make it seem ez if dey got er case. De jedge, he -tole me ter come ter yo’.”</p> - -<p>Caleb felt that Judge Hollis was enjoying his first -case. He almost heard the shouts of Homeric laughter -from that inner office. “You’ll have to prove that -he didn’t steal the chickens,” he said. “In the first -place, who are the people?”</p> - -<p>“Mr. Todd’s folks,” Juniper replied, “an’ dey ses -et wuz two pullets an’ er cockerel.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span>Trench knew where Aaron Todd lived and recalled, -less vividly, the presence of a large chicken-yard. -“How do they suppose he could have carried them -off undiscovered, even at night?” Caleb argued. “If -I remember where the chicken-yard is, you could hear -a commotion among the fowls at any time, particularly -at night. It will be a simple matter, Juniper, -when we prove an alibi.”</p> - -<p>Juniper rubbed the back of his head thoughtfully. -“Dat’s so, suh,” he replied; “I ’low dat I don’ -wanter pay his fine, an’ Charity, she don’; she sho’ -won’t pay et bekase she say I oughter, an’ ef Lysander -goes up fo’ sixty days an’ works on de roads, he ain’t -gwine ter do anodder stroke all de year; dat’s Lysander; -I knows ’im.”</p> - -<p>“What time do they say the chickens were stolen?”</p> - -<p>“Monday mawnin’, ’bout two o’clock.” Uncle Juniper -rubbed his sleeve thoughtfully across his forehead.</p> - -<p>“Then we must prove an alibi,” said Caleb, swinging -around in his chair to view his client more directly. -“The point is clear; where was Lysander at two -o’clock Monday morning?”</p> - -<p>“I specks he wus up dar, suh,” said Juniper cheerfully. -“He ain’t let on ter me dat he wuz anywhere -else.”</p> - -<p>Caleb got up abruptly and threw open the door -into the shop; he had seen Colonel Royall coming. -Then he dashed off a note to Aaron Todd, enclosing -a cheque for the two pullets and the cockerel, and -gave it to Juniper.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span>“Take that up to the Corners,” he said briefly, -“and I think Lysander will get off without arrest, -but tell him if he steals any more I’ll thrash him.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, suh,” said Juniper, expectant but unbelieving.</p> - -<p>Later, however, when Todd took the money and let -Lysander off, he was convinced, and, like all new converts, -he became a zealot, and went about telling of -the miracles wrought by the new lawyer. Thus did -Caleb’s fame go abroad in the byways and alleys, -which is, after all, the road to celebrity.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, Colonel Royall, very inconsiderately, -sat in Diana’s chair. He had heard of the speech at -Cresset’s Corners, and knew that Trench was supporting -Yarnall for the Democratic nomination. Yet the -colonel admired Trench, the force of whose convictions -was already bearing fruit.</p> - -<p>Eight weeks before, Colonel Royall had made a -formal call on Caleb to thank him for his courtesy -and service to Diana. He was a Southern gentleman -of the old school, and he had done it without allowing -even a drop of condescension in his manner. Moreover, -he liked Trench and was trying to put together -the modesty of the man, who had colored at his acknowledgments, -with the incendiary ability that -could rouse and hold a meeting of backwoodsmen on -a subject that was as foreign to their understanding -as it was alarming. Admitted, for the first time, into -the inner office, the colonel gazed about with almost -as much curiosity as Diana, and he drew conclusions -not unlike hers, but more pregnant with the truth.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[78]</span>The colonel’s own face in repose was infinitely sad, -yet when he spoke and laughed his expression was -almost happy. But he had been twenty years turning -the key on his inner self, and the result was an -exterior that reminded an observer of an alabaster -chalice in which the throbbing pulse of life lay clasped -and all but crystallized. His face in repose had almost -the sweetness of a woman’s, and only when the blue -eyes blazed with sudden wrath was there ever cause -to fear him. That he was a dreamer of dreams was -apparent at a glance; that he could keep an unhappy -secret twenty years seemed more improbable. He -leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands on top of -the stout hickory stick he carried.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Trench,” he said slowly, with his Southern -drawl, “I congratulate you on your success in -politics.”</p> - -<p>Caleb turned red. He was aware of the universal -prejudice against his politics in Colonel Royall’s class. -“Thank you, Colonel,” he said formally, rising to -look for glasses in his cupboard. “I can’t offer you -fine old wine, sir, but I have some Kentucky whiskey -that Judge Hollis sent me.”</p> - -<p>“After the speech at Cresset’s?” The corners of -the colonel’s mouth twitched.</p> - -<p>Caleb poured out the whiskey and handed the glass -to his guest. “You know the judge well, sir,” he remarked, -and his composure under the jest won upon -the colonel.</p> - -<p>He tasted the whiskey with the air of a connoisseur.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span> -“In Virginia, Mr. Trench, we should make this into -juleps,” he said appreciatively; “the judge was raised -in the Kentucky mountains and he knows a good thing -when he sees it. I read the report of your speech, sir, -and I admired it, but”—the colonel let his hand fall -a little heavily on the arm of the chair where Diana’s -elbow had rested,—he little knew the enormity of -his action—“if I thought it was all true I should -have to change my coat. I don’t—but I believe -you do.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” said Trench quietly, “I do.”</p> - -<p>“Very good, sir,” said Colonel Royall; “then you -did right, but you’ve made more enemies than you -could shake a stick at. Jacob Eaton’s my cousin, a -young man yet, but mighty clever, and I reckon he’ll -remember all you said. There isn’t any call for me -to resent things for Jacob! No, sir, I honor you for -your courage, if those are your convictions, but -Yarnall can’t be elected here.”</p> - -<p>“I think he can, Colonel,” Caleb replied, unmoved. -The lines about his mouth straightened a -little and there was a glint in his gray eyes; otherwise -his composure was unruffled.</p> - -<p>Colonel Royall set down his empty glass and -waved aside the proffered bottle. “No more, sir, -it’s too good to be safe; like most fine things, a little -goes a long way. What makes you think you can -nominate Yarnall? Of course you can’t elect a Republican, -so I see your point in trying to influence -the Democrats. By gum, sir, it’s the first time it’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span> -been attempted, and it’s knocked the organization -into splinters; they’re standing around waiting to see -what you’ll do next!” The colonel laughed softly.</p> - -<p>“They’ll nominate Yarnall and they’ll elect him,” -said Caleb; “Aylett can’t get two votes out of ten. -I’m sorry to go against your candidate, Colonel,” -he added, smiling.</p> - -<p>“Eh?” said the colonel; he was, in fact, suddenly -aware of the charm of Caleb’s rare smile. He had -not known that the man could smile like that.</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid I appear an interloper in a fenced, no-trespass -field,” Caleb continued pleasantly. “I’m -a Republican, of course, and”—his eyes twinkled—“something -of a Yankee, but, as we can’t elect a -Republican, you must forgive me for choosing the -less instead of the greater evil.”</p> - -<p>Colonel Royall picked up his broad-brimmed -Panama and twirled it thoughtfully on the top of -his stick. “What’s your objection to Aylett?” he -asked meditatively.</p> - -<p>Trench was momentarily embarrassed, then he -plunged boldly. “In the parlance, we would call -him a machine man,” he said; “he was elected by -the same system that has ruled this State for years; -he’s bound hand and foot to it, and his reëlection -means—a continuance of the present conditions.”</p> - -<p>It was now Colonel Royall’s turn to smile. “You -mean a continuance of Jacob Eaton? Well, I expect -it will, and I don’t know but what it’s a good thing. -You haven’t converted me to your heresy, Mr.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span> -Trench, but I’ve tasted of your hospitality, and if -you don’t come and taste mine I’ll feel it a disgrace. -Why have you not come to see me, sir? I asked you -when I came here to acknowledge your courtesy to -my daughter.”</p> - -<p>Trench reddened again. “I’m coming, Colonel,” -he said at once, “but”—he hesitated—“are you -sure that a man of my political faith will be entirely -welcome?”</p> - -<p>Colonel Royall straightened himself. “Sir, Mr. -Eaton does not choose my guests. I appreciate your -feeling and understand it. I shall be happy, sir, to -see you next Sunday afternoon,” and he bowed -formally, having risen to his full height.</p> - -<p>Caleb took his proffered hand heartily, and walked -with him to the door. Yet he did not altogether -relish the thought of a call at Broad Acres; he remembered -too vividly his visit there to refund Diana’s -money, and reddened at the thought of a certain receipt -which he still carried in his pocket. He had -set out to restore her change because he did not -wish her to think she had been overcharged, and -it was not until he had fairly embarked upon the interview -that he had regretted not sending it by mail, -and had reached a point where stealing it would -have seemed a virtue! The fact that the Broad -Acres people seldom, if ever, came to his shop had -made its return in the natural course of events doubtful, -and the matter had seemed to him simple and -direct until Diana met it. The Quaker in him received<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span> -its first shock that night, and he recoiled -from giving them another opportunity to mortify -his pride. Before that he had regarded Miss Royall -as supremely and graciously beautiful; since then -he had realized that she could be both thoughtless -and cruel.</p> - -<p>He stood in his door watching the old colonel’s -erect figure walking up the long road under the -shadow of the great trees that lined it at intervals. -There was something at once stately and appealing -in the old man’s aspect, yet there was power in his -eyes and the pose of his white head. He reminded -Caleb of an old lion, sorely stricken but magnificent; -some wound had gone deep. As yet the younger -man had no notion of it; when he did know he marveled -much at the strange mingling of knight-errantry -and tenderness in the breast of one of -Nature’s noblemen. As it was, he was supremely -conscious that he liked Colonel Royall and that -Colonel Royall liked him, but that the colonel was -vividly aware that the shopkeeper at the Cross-Roads -was not his social equal; Caleb wondered bitterly -if he went further, and considered that the -gentleman of good blood and breeding was his equal -when in law and politics?</p> - -<p>He turned from the door with a whimsical smile -and patted his dog’s uplifted head; then, as his eyes -lighted on the worn leather chair in which the colonel -had just sat, he turned it abruptly to the wall.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">VIII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">BEFORE Sunday Caleb’s settlement of his first -case was celebrated in Eshcol. Judge Hollis -got the facts from Juniper and spread the -story abroad. It was too good to keep. The cockerel -was valued at three dollars, being rare, and the pullets -cost seventy-five cents each. The attorney for -the defendant had paid the costs without pleading -the case at the bar.</p> - -<p>The judge asked if he intended to settle all difficulties -on the same plane? If so, he could send him -enough clients to form a line down the Mississippi -from St. Louis to New Orleans. Juniper was telling -it too, without grasping the judge’s point of view. -As a lawyer, Juniper claimed that Caleb Trench -could out-Herod Herod. He protested that the mere -paying for the fowls had saved Lysander from being -tarred and feathered; for Aaron Todd’s indignant -threats were magnified by memory, and no one but -Mr. Trench would have thought of so simple and -efficacious a remedy.</p> - -<p>The settlement of Lysander’s difficulties coming -after the famed Cresset speech created a sensation -between wrath and merriment among Caleb’s political -opponents. What manner of man was he? Caleb<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span> -Trench, Quaker, posted on his door might have explained -him to some, but to the majority it would -have remained Greek. Besides, Caleb was not orthodox; -he had always leaned to his mother’s religion, -and she had been an Episcopalian; between the two -creeds he had found no middle course, but he had a -profound respect for the faith that brought Diana -to her knees with the simplicity of a child in the little -old gray stone church where the new curate had installed -a boy choir.</p> - -<p>It was long past church time, and after the early -Sunday dinner, when he sat on the porch with Colonel -Royall at Broad Acres. The colonel was a delightful -host, and this time he did not discuss politics; he -talked, instead, about his father’s plantation in Virginia -before the war, a subject as safe as the Satires -of Horace, yet Trench fidgeted a little in his chair. -He was conscious that Diana was passing through -the hall behind him, and that, after her first correctly -courteous greeting, she had avoided the piazza. -He was, in fact, distinctly the colonel’s guest.</p> - -<p>Diana was more vividly aware of social distinctions -than her father, and less forgetful of them; she -was only twenty-three, and the time was not yet -when she could forgive a man for doing anything -and everything to earn his bread. There were so -many ways, she thought, that did not embrace the -village yardstick! Besides, she rather resented the -Cresset speech. Jacob Eaton was her cousin, three -times removed it was true, but still her cousin, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span> -that held. Diana could not reconcile herself to the -freedom of political attacks, and Caleb Trench’s -cool, unbiased criticisms of Eaton and his methods -seemed to her to be mere personalities, and she had -gone as far as quarreling with the colonel for asking -him to call.</p> - -<p>“I don’t like his attack on Jacob, pa,” she had -said hotly; “he’s no gentleman to make it!”</p> - -<p>The colonel meditated, his eyes twinkling. “He’s -a good deal of a man though, Di.”</p> - -<p>And Diana had turned crimson, though she did -not know why, unless she remembered suddenly her -own impression of him in his little office, when the -flare of the burning wood fell on his face. All these -things made her angry and she had received him -with an air that reminded Trench of the receipt for -six cents, yet Diana was superbly courteous. Neither -Mrs. Eaton nor Jacob appeared; they lived about -three miles away, and Mrs. Eaton had refused absolutely -to visit Cousin David on Sunday if he intended -to entertain the lower classes. She had only a very -nebulous idea of the political situation, but she -thought that Trench had vilified Jacob.</p> - -<p>But with the colonel Caleb was happily at home; -even the colonel’s slow drawl was music in his ears, -and he liked the man, the repose of his manner, the -kindly glance of his sad eyes, for his eyes were sad -and tender as a woman’s. Yet Colonel Royall had -shot a man for a just cause thirty years before, and -it was known that he carried and could use his revolver<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span> -still. The fire of the old-time gentleman -sometimes sent the quick blood up under his skin -and kindled his glance, but his slow courtesy made -him ever mindful of others. Sitting together, with -the sun slanting across the lawns and the arch of the -horse-chestnuts shadowing the driveway, Caleb told -the colonel the story of his father’s failure and, more -lightly, something of his own struggles. Then he -got down to reading law with Judge Hollis.</p> - -<p>“A pretty costly business for you, sir,” the colonel -said wickedly, and then laughed until the blue veins -stood out on his forehead.</p> - -<p>Caleb laughed too, but colored a little. “Juniper -is an old rogue,” he said amusedly. “I should have -bribed him to hold his tongue.”</p> - -<p>Colonel Royall straightened his face and rubbed -his eyeglasses on a dollar bill, which, he held, was the -only way to clean them. “Lysander is the rogue,” -he said, “and old Aunt Charity has been known to -steal Juniper’s clothes for him to wear. She dressed -him in Juniper’s best last year and sent him to the -fair with all the money from her washing. Meanwhile -the old man had nothing but his blue jeans -and a cotton undershirt, and wanted to go to the -fair, too. There was a great row. Of course Lysander -got drunk and was sent up for thirty days in Juniper’s -Sunday clothes. Lordy!” the colonel laughed -heartily, “you could hear the noise down at the embankment. -Juniper wanted a ‘divorcement’ and his -clothes, principally his clothes. Judge Hollis and I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span> -had to fit him out, but he and Aunt Charity didn’t -speak until there was another funeral; that brings -niggers together every time; there’s a chaste joy -about a funeral that melts their hearts.”</p> - -<p>The colonel laughed again reminiscently, but -Caleb, being a young man and human, was aware -that Diana had crossed the hall again, and that she -must have heard her father laughing at him. It was -not long after this that he made his adieux, and he -did not ask to see Miss Royall. The colonel walked -with him to the gate and pointed out the magnificent -promise of grapes on his vines.</p> - -<p>“It will be a plentiful season, Mr. Trench,” he -said, “and I hope a good harvest; let us have peace.”</p> - -<p>Caleb understood the tentative appeal, and he -liked the old man, but to a nature like Trench’s truth -is the sling of David; he must smite Goliath. “Colonel -Royall,” he said, “no man desires peace more than I -do, but—peace with honor.”</p> - -<p>Colonel Royall stood in the center of his own gateway, -his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat, -his white head bare. “Mr. Trench,” he said, “I understand -that we are not to have peace.”</p> - -<p>Thursday night Kitty Broughton gave her ball. -Her father was dead, and Judge Hollis stood beside -her mother to help Kitty receive her guests. Everybody -who was anybody in the city came out, and all -Eshcol was there. Mrs. Eaton declared that it was -the most mixed affair she ever saw, when she recognized -Caleb Trench. She told all her friends not to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span> -allow any presuming person to present him to her, -and in an hour she had made all the guests painfully -aware that there was a black sheep in the fold. Then -Kitty Broughton added fuel to the fire by dancing -the first dance with him, and it was discovered, by all -the girls present, that he danced exceedingly well, -and quite as if he had always gone to entertainments. -This surprised those who criticized Mrs. Broughton -for asking him; yet not to have had him would have -been to have the banquet without the salt. For -Jacob Eaton was there, too, and though he wore an -inscrutable face, it was exciting to wonder how he -felt, and what would happen if they met?</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, the dancing went on, and Mrs. Broughton -had presented Trench to several of the young -girls from the city, who admired his dancing, so he -had partners; but he was aware of the frigidity of -the atmosphere and he had not asked Miss Royall -to dance. Instead, Diana had danced twice with -her cousin and once with young Jack Cheyney, a -nephew of the doctor. She was very beautiful. -Trench looked across the ballroom at her and thought -that no sculptured figure of nymph or dryad had ever -excelled the beauty of her tall young figure, its slender -but perfect lines, and the proud pose of her head. -She wore a white brocade flowered with pink, like -apple-blossoms, and Trench thought of her and the -spring buds in his lonely office. The splendid diamond -that shone like a star above her forehead reminded -him of the wide divergence in their fates.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span>Judge Hollis found him and laid a fatherly hand -on his shoulder. “Glad to see you out, Caleb,” he -said heartily; “a change will do you good. Mouldy -old law-books and old men pall on a young fellow like -you. I saw you lead off with Kitty. The minx is -pretty and dances well. Have you asked Diana to -dance?”</p> - -<p>“No,” said Trench; “Miss Royall has too many -partners to accept another, I fancy.”</p> - -<p>“Better ask her,” counseled the judge; “the lady -is something of a tyrant. Don’t get on her black -books too early, sir; besides, courtesy demands it. -Didn’t she accept your care and hospitality?”</p> - -<p>“She had to,” said Trench dryly.</p> - -<p>“Precisely,” smiled the judge; “now ask her to -dance and give her the chance to say ‘no,’ then she’ll -forgive you.”</p> - -<p>“I fancy there are more things to forgive than -that,” replied Caleb musingly; “Mrs. Eaton has let -me feel the weight of my social position.”</p> - -<p>“My dear boy, Jinny is the biggest cad in the -world,” said the judge, drinking a glass of punch; -“go and do as I tell you or I’ll drop your acquaintance. -By the way, Caleb, how much are -cockerels now?” and the old man’s laughter drew all -eyes.</p> - -<p>But it was after supper that, very much against -his determinations, Caleb found himself asking Diana -to dance. He has never known how it happened, -unless it was the compelling power of her beauty in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span> -the corner of the ballroom when the music began -again.</p> - -<p>“May I have the honor?” he asked.</p> - -<p>Diana hesitated the twentieth part of a second; -it was almost imperceptible, but it sent the blood -to the young man’s forehead. Then she smiled -graciously. “With pleasure,” she said in a clear -voice.</p> - -<p>It happened that they swept past Eaton, her skirt -brushing against him, and in another moment they -were going down the old ballroom together. All eyes -followed them and returned to Jacob Eaton, who -was standing discomfited for an instant. It was only -one instant; the next Jacob was more suave and -smiling than ever, and an heiress from Lexington -danced with him. However, in that one instant, his -face had startled the groups nearest him. People -suddenly remembered that it was said that Eaton -carried firearms at all times, and was one of the -straightest shots that side of the Mississippi.</p> - -<p>Later, when Diana was driving home with her -father, she spoke her mind. “I wish you’d make -Jacob Eaton behave himself, pa,” she said; “he acts -as if I belonged to him and he could choose my—my -friends! I don’t like his manners up at Broad Acres, -either; he said the other day that the cold grapery -should be pulled down, and that he didn’t believe -in owning a race-horse.”</p> - -<p>Colonel Royall rubbed the back of his head thoughtfully; -his eyes were troubled.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span>“His manners are becoming insufferable,” Diana -went on, without heeding the silence.</p> - -<p>“If he’s rude to you, Diana,” the colonel said -quietly, “just say so and I’ll thrash him.”</p> - -<p>“I sometimes wish you would!” she retorted -wrathfully, and then, reaching up in the dim carriage, -she patted the colonel’s cheek. “You’re an old dear,” -she said fondly, “but you do get imposed on, and -Jacob never does!”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">IX</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">DR. CHEYNEY’S old gig traveled up the hill -just behind Mrs. Eaton’s carriage, and both -turned into the gateway of Broad Acres.</p> - -<p>That was the morning after Kitty Broughton’s -ball. The doctor had not been there, having had a -bad case on his hands in Eshcol, and he was full of -excitement over a new review of the Cresset speech -published in New York, in a great metropolitan daily. -It seemed that Caleb Trench was going to be celebrated -and old William Cheyney had championed -him. He had the paper in his pocket and wanted to -show it to Colonel Royall, but there was Mrs. Eaton, -and when the doctor climbed down from his high -seat she was already delivering her opinion to Diana -and her father, and she did not suppress it on account -of Dr. Cheyney.</p> - -<p>“I can’t imagine what has come over you, Colonel -Royall!” that lady was saying with great indignation; -“you must be out of your senses to allow Diana -to dance in public with a common shopkeeper, a—a -kind of hoodlum, too!”</p> - -<p>This was too much for Dr. Cheyney, who shook -with silent laughter; and there was a twinkle in -Colonel Royall’s eye.</p> - -<p>“My dear Jinny,” he said pleasantly, “have you<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span> -lived all these years without knowing that it’s Diana -who bosses me?”</p> - -<p>“I call it a shameful exhibition,” continued Mrs. -Eaton hotly. “I never have believed in mixing the -classes—never! And to see my own cousin, and a -young girl at that, dancing with that—that fellow! -As far as it looked to other people, too, she enjoyed -it.”</p> - -<p>“Did you, Diana?” queried Dr. Cheyney mildly, -standing with his hands in his pockets, and a queer -smile on his puckered old face.</p> - -<p>“I did,” said Diana, very red.</p> - -<p>“Whoopee!” exclaimed the doctor, and went off -into convulsions of laughter.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Eaton’s wrath passed all bounds. “At your -age,” she said loftily to Diana, “I should have been -ashamed to confess it.”</p> - -<p>“I am,” said Diana.</p> - -<p>“I’m truly glad of it!” cried Mrs. Eaton.</p> - -<p>“Let’s get the stuffing out of it, Jinny,” suggested -the colonel mildly.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know what you mean,” said Mrs. Eaton -stiffly. “I should call that an extremely vulgar expression. -I’m very glad that Diana is ashamed, and -I only hope it will never occur again. In my day, -young ladies of social prominence were careful who -they danced with. I’m sure I can’t see any reason -for Diana dancing with Mr. Trench. Any one who -reads that abominable speech of his at Cresset’s can -see, at a glance, that he’s an anarchist.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span>“Don’t you think that’s going some, Jinny?” -argued the colonel mildly; “you might have said -socialist, and still been rather strong.”</p> - -<p>“I never could see any difference,” retorted the -lady firmly, settling herself in the most comfortable -wicker armchair. “An anarchist blows up everything, -and a socialist advises you to blow up everything; -the difference is altogether too fine for me!”</p> - -<p>“Just the difference between cause and effect, eh, -madam?” suggested the doctor delightedly, “and all -ending in explosion.”</p> - -<p>“Exactly,” said Mrs. Eaton, with an air of finality. -“Diana, why in the world did you dance with him?”</p> - -<p>“Because you and Jacob didn’t want me to,” -Diana replied calmly.</p> - -<p>Both the old men chuckled, and Mrs. Eaton -reddened with anger. “You are very unnatural, -Diana,” she said severely. “Jacob and I have your -interests at heart. He didn’t consider the man a -proper person for you to be acquainted with!”</p> - -<p>Diana opened her lips to reply, but the colonel -forestalled her, anticipating trouble. “He’s been -my guest, Jinny,” he remarked placidly.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Eaton teased her head. “You’d entertain -Tom, Dick and Harry for charity’s sake, Cousin -David,” she retorted; “the first time I saw him here -he brought six cents in change to your daughter.”</p> - -<p>“He’s honest, Mrs. Eaton,” said the doctor, -twinkling; “he’s a Quaker.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know anything about Quakers,” she replied<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span> -stiffly, “I never met one!” and her tone signified -that she did not want to.</p> - -<p>“Well, they’re not anarchists, Jinny!” observed -the colonel; “perhaps, you’ve heard of William -Penn.”</p> - -<p>“I’m not quite a fool, David,” she retorted in -exasperation.</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney was enjoying himself; he had taken -the rocker by the steps and was swaying gently, his -broad straw hat on his knee. He took the New York -paper out of his pocket and unfolded it. “Perhaps -you’d like to read a review of the Cresset speech, -madam?” he said amiably; “they’ve got it here, -and they speak of Trench as a young lawyer who -has suddenly roused a State from apathy.”</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” said Mrs. Eaton, with overwhelming -politeness, “you are too kind. Probably Diana -would like to read it.”</p> - -<p>Diana was rosy with anger, and her eyes sparkled. -“Cousin Jinny, I don’t like the man any better than -you do!” she declared, “and I detest and loathe -that Cresset speech; I’ve breakfasted on it, and -dined on it, and supped on it, until—until I hate -the name of it!”</p> - -<p>“Diana,” said Dr. Cheyney, “you’ll need those -pink capsules yet!”</p> - -<p>“I can’t see what you all admire in that man!” -protested Mrs. Eaton irritably; “he keeps a shop -and he goes to vulgar political meetings; if that isn’t -enough, what is?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span>“Why, the truth is, Jinny, that he’s a real live -man,” said the colonel, putting on his spectacles to -read the New York version of the Cresset speech.</p> - -<p>“I prefer a gentleman,” said Mrs. Eaton crushingly.</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney twinkled. “Madam,” he said superbly, -“so do I.”</p> - -<p>Colonel Royall, meanwhile, was following the -speech, line by line, with his finger. Half-way down -the column, he lowered the paper. “After all, he -was advocating the Australian ballot,” he remarked -thoughtfully.</p> - -<p>“He wants to go to the people for the election of -senators,” said Dr. Cheyney; “he doesn’t believe -in our legislatures when the great corporations are -interested. Yes, I suppose he does like the Australian -ballot.”</p> - -<p>“I should think he would,” said Mrs. Eaton -promptly; “I’ve always looked upon Australia as -a penal settlement.”</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney shook with silent laughter again. -“Madam,” he said, “do you think him a possible -ticket-of-leave man?”</p> - -<p>“I am disposed to think anything of a man who -can and does support Garnett Yarnall for governor,” -she replied frigidly.</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney’s face sobered suddenly, and Colonel -Royall rustled the paper uneasily. After all, she had -cause; a Yarnall had shot her husband. The two -men felt it less keenly than Diana. She rose suddenly -and offered her elderly relative her arm.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span>“Cousin Jinny, let’s go and see my new rose stocks,” -she said mildly; “they’ve been set out in the south -garden.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Eaton rose, propitiated, and accepted Diana’s -arm, the two moving off together in apparent amity. -Dr. Cheyney’s eyes followed them, and then came -back to meet the peculiar sadness of Colonel Royall’s.</p> - -<p>“Do you think she’s—she’s like—” The colonel’s -voice trailed; he was looking after Diana.</p> - -<p>“No,” said Dr. Cheyney sharply, “no, she’s like -your mother.”</p> - -<p>The wistful expression died in the other man’s -eyes, and he forced a smile. “You think so? Perhaps -she does. Mother was a good woman, God bless her -memory,” he added reverently, “but a month ago”—he -leaned forward, and the hands that gripped the -arms of his chair trembled slightly—“a month ago I -caught her looking at me; her eyes are hazel, and”—he -avoided the doctor’s glance, and colored with the -slow painfulness of an old man’s blush—“her eyes -were just like her mother’s.”</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney got up abruptly and laid his hand on -his shoulder. “Wake up, David,” he said sharply, -“wake up—you’re dreaming.”</p> - -<p>“I haven’t breathed it to any one else, William,” -Colonel Royall said, “not in eighteen years—but -I’ve seen it all the time.”</p> - -<p>His old friend eyed him grimly. “And it’s frightened -you?”</p> - -<p>The colonel drew a deep breath. “William,” he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span> -said, “do you know how a starving man would feel -when he saw his last crust in danger?”</p> - -<p>The old doctor paced the broad veranda; beside -it a tree of heaven spread its graceful limbs, every -branch still double tipped with the rosy leaves of its -spring budding. Before him stretched the tender -green of the south lawn, shaded by the grove of horse-chestnuts; -beyond he caught a distant glimpse of the river.</p> - -<p>“David,” he said uncompromisingly, “Diana has -a noble heart, but—Jinny Eaton is a fool.”</p> - -<p>“I know it,” said the colonel thoughtfully, “but -she’s been a mother to the girl and she loves -her.”</p> - -<p>“She wants to marry her to Jacob,” snapped the -doctor.</p> - -<p>“I know it,” said the colonel.</p> - -<p>“He’s not fit to tie her shoe,” retorted the doctor. -“Jacob’s the slickest critter in the county, but I -haven’t got any more use for him than Caleb Trench -has—if he is your cousin.”</p> - -<p>The colonel looked thoughtful. “He’s very clever, -William,” he protested, “and he’s very much in -love.”</p> - -<p>“Fiddlesticks!” said the doctor.</p> - -<p>Colonel Royall laughed a little in spite of himself. -“You love Diana, too,” he remarked.</p> - -<p>“I do,” said William Cheyney, “and I don’t believe -Jacob will make her happy. But, Lord bless me, -David, you and I won’t do the choosing—Miss Di<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span> -will! In my opinion it won’t be Jacob Eaton, either.” -Then he added briskly: “This young lawyer of ours is -right about Aylett; he’s a machine man and the -machine is rotten. We want Yarnall; I wish you’d -come to think so, too.”</p> - -<p>Colonel Royall thought, putting the tips of his -fingers together. “The truth is, the Eatons are too -near to me,” he admitted quietly; “you know Jinny -can’t forget that a Yarnall shot her husband, and I -don’t know that I could ask it of her.”</p> - -<p>“Her husband was guilty,” said the doctor flatly.</p> - -<p>“I’m afraid he was,” admitted Colonel Royall, -“though Mrs. Yarnall denied it; the jury justified -Yarnall.”</p> - -<p>“I can’t forgive one man for shooting another for -an unworthy woman!” said the doctor fiercely, forgetting -many things.</p> - -<p>The slow red crept up to Colonel Royall’s hair. “I -ought to have done it,” he said simply; “but—but -I let him live to marry her.”</p> - -<p>“Just so,” said William Cheyney; “solidly right, -too; that’s purgatory enough for most of ’em,” he -added, under his breath, as he took the long turn on -the veranda.</p> - -<p>Colonel Royall did not hear him; his head was bare, -and the light breeze stirred his white hair; it had -turned suddenly, twenty years before. “It would -be against all precedent for any of the family to favor -a Yarnall,” he remarked slowly.</p> - -<p>“Jacob won’t,” said the doctor shortly, a dry<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span> -smile crinkling the wrinkles around his kindly, shrewd -old eyes.</p> - -<p>“Nor would you, in Jacob’s place,” countered the -colonel, tapping the floor with his stick.</p> - -<p>A negro appeared promptly at the door.</p> - -<p>“Two juleps, Kingdom,” he ordered.</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney ceased his promenade and sat down. -“This State’s got to be cleaned up, David,” he said -maliciously; “we’ve got too much machine. I’m -all for Trench.”</p> - -<p>“I’m not sure I know what ails us,” objected the -colonel humorously; “we’re either bewitched or -hypnotized. In a fortnight we’ve set up Caleb -Trench, and I reckon he’s more talked of than the -volcano in the West Indies.”</p> - -<p>“He will be later,” said the doctor; “there’s a -man for you!”</p> - -<p>“They say he began by getting hold of the backwoodsmen; -they go down to his shop and discuss -politics once a week; he organized them into a club -and made them take a pledge to vote for Yarnall.”</p> - -<p>“All rot,” said William Cheyney fiercely; “do you -think the man’s a damned rogue? He’s talked -straight politics to ’em, and he’s showed up some of -the machine methods. By the way, David, he’s -set his face against Jacob Eaton’s get-rich-quick -games. I don’t believe in ’em myself; when that -young bounder, Macdougall, came at me about them -the other day in the bank, I told him I kept all my -money tied up in a stocking. I reckon he thinks I do,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span> -twinkled the doctor, “because I’ve nothing in their -bank. David, I hope you’re not favoring Jacob’s -schemes too heavily?”</p> - -<p>Colonel Royall looked perplexed. Kingdom-Come -had just brought out a tray with two tinkling glasses -of iced mint julep, and he watched the white-headed -negro set them out deftly on the little portable basket -tea-table of Diana’s.</p> - -<p>“How are you feeling, Kingdom?” Dr. Cheyney -asked genially, eying the juleps.</p> - -<p>“Right po’ly, Doctah,” Kingdom replied, showing -his ivories, “but I manages ter keep my color.”</p> - -<p>“Eh?” said the doctor, startled.</p> - -<p>Kingdom-Come beamed. “But I’se got er mis’ry -in my chest, an’ I reckon I’se got vertigo an’ congestion -ob de brain; I hez dese er dizzy turns, suh.”</p> - -<p>“Take some castor oil, Kingdom,” said the doctor, -placidly stirring his julep, “and put a mustard plaster -on your stomach.”</p> - -<p>“Yass, suh, thank yo’,” said Kingdom, a little -weakly. “I’se done took two doses ob oil this week, -an’ I’se been rubbin’ myse’f wid some ob dis yer -kittycurah.”</p> - -<p>“Good Lord!” said Dr. Cheyney, “take a pint of -whiskey and go to bed.”</p> - -<p>“William,” said Colonel Royall, after Kingdom had -gone, “I don’t see why you set your face so flatly -against Jacob Eaton’s investments. Who has talked -this up?”</p> - -<p>“Caleb Trench,” said the doctor.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span>“Heavens!” ejaculated Colonel Royall, “is there -no end?”</p> - -<p>“To him?” Dr. Cheyney twinkled, “No, sir, not -yet. He’s taken the packing out of Jacob; he says -that more than half these countrymen vote with the -Eaton faction because they’ve put all their money -in the Eaton Investment Company, and I’ll be -hanged, sir, if he doesn’t state it fairly.”</p> - -<p>Colonel Royall got up and stood, a towering figure -of a man, his blue eyes kindled. “William,” he said -hoarsely, “that doesn’t sound honorable.”</p> - -<p>“David,” retorted the old man uncompromisingly, -“I tell the truth and shame the devil—I’ve got an -eighty-mile circuit in this county, sir, and it’s true!”</p> - -<p>“Then, sir,” said Colonel Royall, “this county’s -rotten.”</p> - -<p>William Cheyney leaned back in his chair and -smiled quietly. “It’s the same way in the State; -the Eaton Company’s offering bigger interest than -any other company this side of the Mississippi; it -hasn’t cut its rate, even in the panic, and it’s getting -new investors every day—or it did till Caleb Trench -got up at Cresset and cut the thing in two.”</p> - -<p>“Caleb Trench?” repeated the colonel slowly. -“William, that young man’s creating a sensation. -I begin to doubt him; does he mean it, or is he bidding -for notoriety?”</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney smiled grimly. “David,” he said, -“you ask Judge Hollis; he believes in him and so -do I.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span>“I don’t know why I shouldn’t believe in Jacob,” -said the colonel stiffly; “he’s my own blood, and we -might as well believe in one young man as another. -What’s the difference between them?”</p> - -<p>“Well,” replied the doctor slowly, “when I go into -a grocery store and see one basket of eggs labelled -‘Box eggs, fresh, thirty-two cents,’ and the other -basket, ‘Hen’s eggs, forty-five cents,’ I’m kind of -naturally suspicious of the box eggs. Not that I -want to bear too hard on Jacob.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">X</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">MEANWHILE Jacob Eaton rode out with -Diana in the early mornings, before even -Dr. Cheyney had his breakfast. Jacob had -no taste for sunrise or the lark, but if Diana rode in -the first freshness of morning, he rode stubbornly beside -her, more stubbornly than she cared to admit.</p> - -<p>After all, Jacob was her third cousin, and the propinquity, -with the close family relations which Mrs. -Eaton jealously maintained, made him seem even -nearer. Without liking him very much, Diana had -tolerated his constant presence for so many years -that it had become a habit. No doubt we could grow -happily accustomed to a hippopotamus as a pet, if -we could keep it long enough in our individual bathtubs. -Usage and propinquity! How many recalcitrants -have been reconciled to an unwelcome fate by -these two potent factors in life!</p> - -<p>Diana, riding up the hill through clustered masses -of rhododendrons, was happily indifferent to Jacob at -her bridle rein. Jacob was useful, rather pleasant to -talk to, and paid her the constant homage of undisguised -admiration. After all, it was pleasant to be -with one to whom she meant so much. She could -hold him lightly at arm’s length, for Jacob was too<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span> -wise to hazard all for nothing, yet she was aware that -her lightest wish had its weight. It was only when he -tried to assume the right of an elder brother to meddle -with her affairs, as he had at Kitty Broughton’s ball, -that she resented his interference.</p> - -<p>Jacob had, indeed, slipped into her ways with a -tame-cattiness which, no matter how it accorded with -his sleek appearance, was in direct contradiction to -the character behind the mask. Diana, flouting him -in her girlish coquetry, was but sowing the wind; if -she married him later, she would reap the whirlwind, -yet half her relations desired it. Thus wisely does -the outsider plan a life.</p> - -<p>Diana stopped abruptly and, bending from the -saddle, gathered a large cluster of pink rhododendrons; -the dew was on them still and it sparkled in -the sunshine.</p> - -<p>“Why didn’t you let me break it for you?” Jacob -asked mildly; “sometime when you bend that way -from your saddle you’ll lose your balance and—”</p> - -<p>“Take a cropper,” said Diana. “I hope I shan’t -break my nose.”</p> - -<p>“Or your head, which would mean my heart,” he -retorted.</p> - -<p>She laughed; she was very charming when she -laughed and, perhaps, she knew it. Diana was very -human. “Which is harder than my head,” she said; -“in fact, I have heard something of the nether -millstone.”</p> - -<p>“You would find it very brittle if you turned the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span> -cold shoulder,” said Jacob calmly, flicking the young -shrubs with his crop.</p> - -<p>“A piece of broken crockery,” mocked Diana; “you -will have it mended when I marry some one -else.”</p> - -<p>“On the contrary,” he retorted, unmoved, “to quote -the romancer: ‘<i>Je vais me fich’ à l’eau.</i>’”</p> - -<p>“What?” she questioned, with lifted brows.</p> - -<p>“It’s French,” he explained.</p> - -<p>“So I supposed,” replied Diana, “but not as I -learned it.”</p> - -<p>“Nevertheless it is forcible,” said Jacob; “it means, -inelegantly, that I will pitch myself into the river.”</p> - -<p>“Inelegant and untruthful then,” said she.</p> - -<p>“I got it from a book,” he said, “a recent one, and -famous. I am quoting the modern novelists.”</p> - -<p>They had reached the crest of a low ridge, and -through a growth of red cedars could see the flash -and leap of the river. Diana drew rein and turned -her face fully toward her companion.</p> - -<p>“Jacob,” she said abruptly, “why did you give all -that money to Juniper?”</p> - -<p>Jacob smiled, his eyelids drooping; in the sunshine -his clear smooth skin looked waxy, as though it would -take the impression of a finger and keep it. “There’s -an instance of my heart, Diana,” he said sententiously.</p> - -<p>She studied him attentively. “Was it altogether -that?” she demanded, the straight line of her brows -slightly contracted.</p> - -<p>“What else?” he asked lightly, leaning forward to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span> -break off a cedar berry and toss it away again. “Look -here, Di, you’re down on me—what’s the matter?”</p> - -<p>“I want to understand you,” she replied slowly; -“fifty dollars is too large a sum to give all at once to -a negro; you’ll corrupt a member of the church, a -brand snatched from the burning. Juniper has experienced -religion.”</p> - -<p>Jacob laughed. “Been stealing chickens lately, I -reckon.”</p> - -<p>“No, it was Lysander,” corrected Diana demurely.</p> - -<p>“The shopkeeper lawyer can defend him again,” -said her cousin; “all the fools are not dead yet.”</p> - -<p>“No, indeed,” she agreed, so heartily that he -looked up quickly.</p> - -<p>“I really meant to help the old nigger,” he said -frankly; “he’s always begging, and he’s been sick -and out of work. I’m sorry if you think fifty too -much.”</p> - -<p>Diana touched her horse lightly, and they moved on. -“Too much at one time,” she said more gently. -“He’ll spend it in an enormous supply of tobacco, -watermelons and whiskey, and probably go to the -workhouse. If he does, you’ll have to bail him out, -Jacob.”</p> - -<p>“Isn’t there a bare possibility that the watermelons -might kill him?” he suggested meekly.</p> - -<p>“A negro?” Diana laughed. “Jacob, why didn’t -you give it to Aunt Charity?”</p> - -<p>“She has, at present, purloined the silver teapot,” -said Jacob; “my soul loves justice.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span>She looked sharply at him, her young face severe. -“I believe you had another motive. Are you sure -that it was for his good, and only for his good?”</p> - -<p>“Cross my heart,” said Jacob devoutly. “See here, -Diana, why should I fritter away my substance? Of -what use on earth could that old nigger be to me?”</p> - -<p>She looked thoughtful. The horses moved on -evenly abreast. “None that I can see,” she admitted -honestly; “after all, it was good of you; forgive -me.”</p> - -<p>“After all, there is some good in me,” he replied, -paraphrasing. “I’m worth noticing, my fair cousin!”</p> - -<p>“When you come directly across the horizon!” -laughed Diana.</p> - -<p>Below them now was the highroad, and as they -looked along the white bend of its elbow, below the -ash and the young maples, they both saw the tall -straight figure of Caleb Trench. He did not see -them; he passed below them, and turned the shoulder -of the hill. Diana said nothing; her eyes had reluctantly -followed him.</p> - -<p>“There goes a fool,” remarked her cousin, “or a -knave.”</p> - -<p>“Why is it,” asked Diana, “that a man, failing to -agree with another, calls him names?”</p> - -<p>He laughed, his cheek reddening. “Why should I -agree with that shyster?”</p> - -<p>“Why should that shyster agree with you?” she -mocked, a light kindling in her clear eyes.</p> - -<p>Jacob chuckled unpleasantly. “I hope you’ve<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span> -never claimed that six cents again,” he commented; -“he’s got your receipt, you know.”</p> - -<p>It was her turn to redden. “You are jealous of his -growing reputation,” she flung at him.</p> - -<p>He shrugged a shoulder. “Of that beautiful speech -at Cresset’s, in which he painted me as the devil and -all his works?”</p> - -<p>“I admired the Cresset speech!” she exclaimed, a -sentiment which would have amazed Mrs. Eaton.</p> - -<p>Jacob laughed. “So do I,” he said, “it was first-class -campaign matter, but—well, Di, personal abuse -is a little vulgar, isn’t it, just now?”</p> - -<p>“Not if you deserved it,” she said defiantly.</p> - -<p>“I’d take any amount if you’d promise not to -dance with him again.”</p> - -<p>“I’m the best judge of my partners,” said Diana, -with indignant dignity; “if any one speaks it should -be my father.”</p> - -<p>“Aptly said,” he admitted suavely, “and the colonel -is one in a thousand, but you wind him around your -little finger.”</p> - -<p>“You do not know Colonel Royall,” said Colonel -Royall’s daughter, with just pride.</p> - -<p>Jacob lifted his hat. “<i>Vive le Roi!</i>” he said.</p> - -<p>She gave him an indignant glance. “You are a -mocker.”</p> - -<p>“On my soul, no!”</p> - -<p>“Jacob,” said Diana, “your soul, like the rich -man’s, may scarcely pass through the eye of a -needle.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span>“My dear cousin, my soul has been passing through -it under your rebukes. What shall I do to please -you?”</p> - -<p>Diana rode on, her chin up. The path was narrow, -and Jacob, falling behind, had only the privilege of -admiring the long slim lines of her athletic young -back, and the way she sat her horse. Beyond the -cedars the path forked on the road, and he came up -again.</p> - -<p>“I am chastened,” he said; “shall I be forgiven?”</p> - -<p>She laughed softly, then her mood changed. -“Jacob,” she said, quite seriously, “you are sure -that you’ll renominate Governor Aylett?”</p> - -<p>“My dear Di, I am sure of nothing in this world but -death,” he retorted dryly, “but I’ll be—”</p> - -<p>“Cut it out, Jacob,” she cautioned, her eyes -twinkling.</p> - -<p>“I won’t have Yarnall!” he finished lamely.</p> - -<p>She nodded. “I understand, but what is this about -the backwoodsmen being organized?”</p> - -<p>“Your friend, the shyster,” he mocked, “he has -that line of politics; he speaks well on top of a barrel. -I suppose he can empty one, too.”</p> - -<p>“Not as easily as you could, Jacob,” she retorted -ruthlessly.</p> - -<p>He raised his eyebrows. “I’ve been in love with -you these many years, and thus do you trample on -my feelings!”</p> - -<p>“I wish you had feelings,” said Diana calmly; -“you have mechanism.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span>“Upon my word!” he cried; “this is the last -straw.”</p> - -<p>“You should be a successful politician,” she continued; -“you are a successful business man. Success -is your Moloch; beware, Jacob!”</p> - -<p>“I am willing to sit at the feet of the prophetess,” -he protested. “I’ve served seven years, I—”</p> - -<p>“Jacob,” said Diana, “don’t be silly. There’s -Kingdom-Come at the gate; they are waiting to turn -the omelet. Come!” and she galloped down to the -high gateway, the rhododendrons clustering at her -saddle-bow and the sunshine in her face.</p> - -<p>Kingdom-Come grinned. “Fo’ de Lawd, Miss Di, -I reckon yo’ clean forgot dat folks eats in de mawnin’.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XI</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE next morning Judge Hollis walked into -Caleb Trench’s little back room.</p> - -<p>In the broad daylight the judge was a -stately figure, tall, stout, white-haired, with a high -Roman nose and a mouth and chin like a Spartan’s. -He always wore an old-fashioned, long frock coat, a -high pointed collar and stiff black tie; in summer his -waistcoat was white marseilles, with large buttons and -a heavy watch-chain; he carried a gold-headed cane -and he took snuff.</p> - -<p>He found Trench in his shirt sleeves, plodding over -some papers, his face flushed and his jaw set, a trick -he had in perplexity. The judge eyed him grimly. -“Well,” he said, “what’s the price of cockerels -to-day?”</p> - -<p>Trench, who had not noticed his entrance, rose and -gave the old man a chair. “To-day I’m figuring out -the price of men,” he replied; “every single investor -in the Eaton Land Company has been notified—in -one way or another—that only Aylett men are to -go to the Democratic Convention.”</p> - -<p>The judge whistled softly.</p> - -<p>“It’s true,” said Trench, throwing back his head -with a peculiar gesture of the right hand that was at<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span> -once characteristic and striking. “I’m ashamed for -you Democrats,” he added.</p> - -<p>The judge squared his massive shoulders and -gripped his gold-headed cane. “You young black -Republican agitator,” he retorted bitterly, “produce -your evidence.”</p> - -<p>Trench brought his palm down sharply on his desk. -“It’s here,” he said; “Aaron Todd has been threatened, -but he did not put in his last savings and is -standing firm; the rest are like frightened sheep. -Because I pointed out this lever in my Cresset speech -they seem to think it’s a fulfillment, and they’ve -poured in on me to-day to beg me to get their investments -out for them! Meanwhile the company has -declared that no dividends will be paid until after -election, neither will they refund. If I carry the cases -into court against Eaton, he’ll take advantage of the -bankruptcy law. The investors in the country are -frightened to death, and they’d vote for Satan for -governor if they thought it would insure their money. -Yarnall’s an honest man, but there are fifty hand-bills -in circulation accusing him of everything -short of arson and murder. That’s your Democratic -campaign.”</p> - -<p>“And your Republican one is to stir up the niggers,” -thundered the judge. “Peter Mahan’s been out in the -Bottoms speaking to ten thousand blacks! By the -Lord Harry, sir, I wish they were all stuffed down his -throat!”</p> - -<p>Whereat Caleb Trench laughed suddenly. “Judge,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span> -he said, “if Peter Mahan could be elected, you’d have -a clean straight administration.”</p> - -<p>“He can’t be, sir,” snapped the judge, “and I’m -glad of it!”</p> - -<p>“You’ll be sorry,” Trench remarked calmly, “unless -you nominate Yarnall.”</p> - -<p>“I’m for Aylett,” the judge said soberly. “I shall -vote for Aylett in the convention; Yarnall will split -the party. That’s what you want, you young cub!”</p> - -<p>Caleb smiled. “I’m interested to know how much -money it will take to nominate Aylett,” he said; -“you’re for Aylett, judge, but you’re not strong -enough to defeat Yarnall.”</p> - -<p>“Neither are you strong enough to nominate him,” -said the judge sharply. “You look out for the blood -feud, Caleb; these fellows behind Jacob Eaton -haven’t forgotten that the Yarnalls drew the last -blood. They’re mighty like North American Indians, -and your Cresset speech stirred up a hornet’s nest. -I’m for Aylett and peace.”</p> - -<p>Trench folded the papers on his desk reflectively. -“I can’t make out Jacob Eaton,” he said.</p> - -<p>The judge chuckled. “He’s a mighty queer package,” -he said grimly, “a cross between a mollycoddle -and a bully. Jinny Eaton raised him in jeweler’s -cotton for fear he’d catch the measles, and he went -to college with a silver christening mug and a silk -quilt. When he got there he drank whiskey and -played the races, and some poor devil, who was -working his way through college, coached him for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span> -his exams. He got out with a diploma but no honors, -and enough bad habits to sink a ship. Then Jinny -introduced him to society as the Model Young Man. -He’s been speculating ever since, and he’s got the -shrewd business sense that old man Eaton had. He -doesn’t care two cents for Aylett, but he’s going to -fight Yarnall to the knife. He— What the devil’s -the matter with Zeb Bartlett?” the judge suddenly -added, stooping to look out of the window. “He’s -been walking past the front door, back and forth, -four or five times since I’ve been sitting here, and -he’s making faces until he looks like a sculpin.”</p> - -<p>Trench laughed grimly. “He does that at intervals,” -he replied, “because I won’t lend him a dollar -to get tipsy on.”</p> - -<p>The judge grunted, his head still lowered to command -a view of the shambling figure of the idiot. -Then he rose suddenly and went to the window, -thrusting his hand into his pocket. “Here, Zeb!” -he shouted, in his stentorian tones, “take that and -get drunk, and I’ll have you arrested,” and he flung -out fifty cents.</p> - -<p>Bartlett groveled for it in the dust, found it and -grinned idiotically. Then, retreating a few steps, he -looked back and kissed his hand, still gurgling. The -judge watched him out of sight, then he sat down and -took snuff. “Don’t let that fool hang around here,” -he said sharply; “it will get a crank into his head and -the Lord knows how it’s going to come out. Give him -a quarter and let him go.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span>“I won’t,” said Caleb dryly. “I’d rather give it to -his grandmother; she’ll need it.”</p> - -<p>“To be sure,” said the judge ironically, “and -she’d give it to him with a dime on top of it; -that’s a woman down to the ground. If there’s -anything worthless within a hundred miles, they’ll -adore it!”</p> - -<p>As he spoke, there was a rustle in the outer shop and -Miss Sarah suddenly thrust her head in the door. She -always wore the most extraordinary bonnets, and the -one to-day had a long green plume that trembled and -swayed behind her head like the pendulum of an -eight-day clock.</p> - -<p>“Judge,” she said, “I wish you’d get up and go -home. It sounds rude, Caleb, but he’s always insisting -on dinner at one o’clock sharp, because his -grandmother had it, and he’s never there until the -roast is overdone or the gravy is spoiled! Besides, -I’m alarmed; I’ve discovered something about Juniper.” -Miss Sarah came in and shut the door and put -her back against it, her air conveying some deep and -awful mystery. “He’s got fifty dollars.”</p> - -<p>The judge brought down his heavy brows over his -high nose in a judicial frown, but his eyes snapped. -“What’s the nigger been up to?” he asked calmly; -“been negotiating law business for him, Trench?”</p> - -<p>Caleb shook his head, smiling.</p> - -<p>“He’s been stealing,” said Miss Sarah with conviction.</p> - -<p>“Think likely,” said the judge, “but from whom?<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span> -Not me, Sarah; if it had been from me it would have -been fifty cents.”</p> - -<p>“I never thought it was from you,” she retorted -scornfully, “but I’ve hunted the house over to see -if he could have pawned anything and—”</p> - -<p>The judge brought his hand down on his knee. -“The silver teapot, Sarah!”</p> - -<p>She shook her head. “Aunt Charity’s got it; she -gave a supper last night and they had their usual -fight and she locked him out. He sat on the step all -night and came to our house for something to eat; -then he showed the fifty-dollar bill. Of course he -stole it.”</p> - -<p>The judge meditated, looking grim.</p> - -<p>It was Trench who made the suggestion. “Isn’t -that rather large for campaign money?” he asked -mildly.</p> - -<p>The judge swore, then he got up and reached for -his hat. “I’ll make him take it back,” he said -viciously.</p> - -<p>“Take it where?” demanded Miss Sarah vaguely.</p> - -<p>“To Ballyshank!” retorted the judge, jamming -his hat down on his head.</p> - -<p>They all emerged into the outer room just as Miss -Royall appeared in the shop-door. She was dressed -in a pink muslin with a wide straw hat trimmed with -pink roses, and looked like a woodland nymph. The -judge swung off his hat.</p> - -<p>“We’ve been having a political tournament,” he -said, “and now comes the Queen of Love and Beauty.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span>Diana liked the old man and smiled her most charming -smile. Miss Sarah went up and pecked her cheek, -a rite that elderly ladies still like to perform in public. -Trench, longing to play the host but too proud to -risk a rebuke, bowed silently. Something in Diana’s -eye warned him that she was minded to make him -repent the dance she had given him; the scoldings -she had received were rankling in her mind. Unhappily, -too, something in the judge’s manner said, -“So ho! is this a flirtation?” Her cheeks burned.</p> - -<p>The judge blundered. “Let me offer a chair,” -he said, with old-fashioned courtesy, “then we will -ask you to help us solve a riddle of Sarah’s. She has -found that Juniper is unusually rich, a kind of ebony -John Jacob Astor, the proud possessor of fifty dollars.”</p> - -<p>Diana declined the chair. “Juniper?” she repeated. -“Oh, yes, I know all about it!”</p> - -<p>“Did he steal it from you, dear?” Miss Sarah -asked excitedly.</p> - -<p>“Jacob Eaton gave it to him,” Diana replied -simply, “he thought he needed it; he’s been out of -work, and you know what a nuisance Lysander is.”</p> - -<p>“But fifty dollars, my dear!” protested Miss -Hollis faintly.</p> - -<p>Diana caught the glances between the judge and -Trench and stiffened. “My cousin is generous,” she -said.</p> - -<p>The judge took snuff.</p> - -<p>Poor Caleb fell into the snare. “Miss Royall, do -sit down,” he urged, pushing forward the chair.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span>Diana’s chin went up; her eyes sparkled. “Thank -you, I only came for that bolt of pink ribbon,” she -said grandly, indicating it with her parasol, and then, -opening her purse, “How much is it?”</p> - -<p>“It’s sold,” said Trench, and shut his lips like a -steel trap.</p> - -<p>Diana turned crimson. “Oh,” she said, then she -swung around and drew her arm through Miss Sarah’s -thin black silk-clad elbow, that was like the hook of -a grappling iron. “I think you were going?” she -cooed.</p> - -<p>The old lady hesitated, confused. “I—I—” -she began.</p> - -<p>“Here’s the carriage,” said Diana sweetly, and -drew her out of the door; “there’s room for you, -judge,” she called back, not even glancing at Trench.</p> - -<p>“I’ll walk,” said the judge, “I’m a young man -yet; don’t you forget it, my girl!”</p> - -<p>Diana laughed. “The youngest I know, in heart,” -she said, and waved her hand as they drove off.</p> - -<p>The judge looked at Caleb soberly. “You’ve done -it, young man,” he said quietly.</p> - -<p>A slow painful blush went up to Caleb’s hair. -“So be it,” he said bitterly. “I’m human and I’ve -borne all I can,” and he turned away. “My God!” -he added, with a violence so unusual and so heartfelt -that it startled the judge, “does that girl think -me the dirt under her feet because I’ve sold ribbon? -I’m a gentleman; I’m as well-born and as well-bred -as she is, but she won’t recognize it—more than half<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span> -an hour. One day she’s—she’s an angel of courtesy -and kindness, the next she insults me. She and -Eaton have made my life here a hell!” He clenched -his hands until the nails bit into the flesh.</p> - -<p>“She’s young,” said Judge Hollis slowly, “and -ill advised.”</p> - -<p>Trench struggled to be calm; his face paled again, -the light died out of his eyes. “Let her leave me in -peace!” he cried at last.</p> - -<p>The judge drew a pattern on the floor with his -stick. “She admires you immensely,” he said deliberately, -“and she respects you.”</p> - -<p>Trench laughed bitterly.</p> - -<p>The judge put on his hat again and held out his -hand. “I’ll give you the odds on the money, Caleb,” -he said, “but I’d like to know—by the Lord Harry, -I’d like to know—what Eaton’s buying niggers for -at this late date?”</p> - -<p>He got no answer. Caleb’s face was as set as -flint.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">SOMETIMES early in the morning, and often -at evening, Caleb Trench took long walks alone -with his dog. It was after sunset, in the sweet -long twilight of July, that he came up through the -woods behind Colonel Royall’s place, and approached -the long elbow of the road, shadowed by the tall -walnuts and hickories, and clothed here and there -with the black-jack oak. Before him lay the beautiful -valley. He could see the curl of the mist below -Paradise Ridge, and beyond, the long gray folds of -the distant mountains. He looked up toward the -beaten trail that led to Angel Pass, and he could -perceive the fragrance of wild magnolias.</p> - -<p>Shot, who was running ahead, stopped suddenly -and stood at attention, one shaggy ear erect. Then -Caleb saw the gleam of a white dress, and Miss Diana -Royall appeared, walking toward them. Over her -head the green boughs locked, and in the soft light -she had a beauty that seemed to Trench more than -the right of a girl so apparently heartless. He would -have passed by the other road, merely raising his -hat, but she called to him.</p> - -<p>“Good evening, Mr. Trench,” she said, with that -bewitching little drawl of hers, which made her voice<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span> -almost caressing and deceived the unwary. “Your -dog remembers me more often than you do.”</p> - -<p>Caleb’s face stiffened. Oh, the mockery of women! -“I remember you more often than you remember -me,” he replied courteously.</p> - -<p>Diana bit her lip. She had not expected this, and -she hated him for it; yet he had never looked so strong -and fine as he did to-night. In the soft light the -harsh lines were softened, the power remained, and -something of sweetness in the eyes. “Oh,” she said, -“have I ever failed to remember you?”</p> - -<p>Trench made no direct reply, but smiled. Something -in her way, at the moment, was very girlish, -the whim of a spoiled child. She had been gathering -some ferns, and she arranged them elaborately, -standing in the path. His attitude vexed her, his -manner was so detached; she was accustomed to -adulation. She swept him a look from under her -thick dark lashes. “I remember dancing with you -at Kitty Broughton’s ball,” she observed.</p> - -<p>“You were very kind,” he replied at once, “I remember -it, too; you danced with me twice.”</p> - -<p>“Because I promised to dance if you asked me; I -promised Judge Hollis,” she said demurely.</p> - -<p>“But the second?” Caleb was human, and his -heart quickened under the spell of her beauty. “I -hope that was on my own account.”</p> - -<p>“The second?” Diana rearranged the ferns. “I -danced then because my cousin did not wish me to,” -she said.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span>Trench reddened. “I am sorry that you felt compelled -to do it—twice,” he said involuntarily, for he -was angry.</p> - -<p>“You are very rude,” replied Diana, unmoved.</p> - -<p>“I beg your pardon,” he said stiffly, aware that he -had been foolish and lost his temper; “pray forgive -me.”</p> - -<p>“It’s a matter of no consequence,” she said sweetly.</p> - -<p>His heart was filled with sudden wrath. Why need -the girl be so brutal? He did not know that Diana -had been goaded by Mrs. Eaton and Jacob until she -was beyond reason; besides, his manner, which defied -her, was like tossing the glove at her feet. He -had no appreciation of her condescension, and he -did not bear her flouting with meekness. Yet, all -the while, his strength and his repose made him -immeasurably more interesting than the young men -of her acquaintance, which, of course, was another -reason to be unreasonable.</p> - -<p>“I did not see you at the Wilton-Cheyneys,” -she said agreeably, pressing the ferns against her -cheek.</p> - -<p>“Quite naturally,” he replied coolly; “I was not -asked.”</p> - -<p>“Oh!”</p> - -<p>There was a silence. The sweet soft twilight -seemed to enfold them with a touch like velvet; a -Bob White whistled once in the stillness.</p> - -<p>“Miss Royall.”</p> - -<p>She looked up with her soft little smile, but his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span> -face froze it on her lips. He looked stern and cold. -“Yes?” she said, faintly startled.</p> - -<p>“Why do you say such things to me? You know -that I’m not asked, that I’m an outsider. A poor -Yankee shopkeeper, I believe your set calls me; I -do not know. Certainly I do not care; a man must -live, you know, even out of your class. I have a -right to live. I also have a right to my own pride. -I am a gentleman.”</p> - -<p>They stood looking at each other, the width of -the woodland path between them, and that indefinable, -impalpable thing which is neither sympathy -nor antagonism but which, existing once between -two souls, can, never be forgotten,—a white flame -that burns at once through all barriers of misunderstanding, -the divine spark of a love that is as far -beyond commonplace passion as the soul is above -the body that it must leave forever. The man felt -it and bowed reluctantly before it; the girl struggled -and resisted.</p> - -<p>“If I did not know that you were,” she said, as -quietly as she could, “I would not be here talking -to you now. I’m afraid you think me very ill mannered. -The last was really thoughtlessness.”</p> - -<p>He looked at her relentlessly. “But the first?”</p> - -<p>She blushed scarlet. “I—I did not mean it.”</p> - -<p>His eyes still searched her, but there was no tenderness -in them; they were cold and gray. “That -is not quite true, Miss Royall.”</p> - -<p>Diana winced; she felt ten years old and knew<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span> -it was her own fault. “I think it is you who are rude -now,” she said, rallying, “but”—it choked her, -she held out her hand—“let us be friends.”</p> - -<p>He shook his head slowly. “No,” he said, “that -can’t be until you are sure I am your equal. I’ve -picked up crumbs long enough, Miss Royall,—forgive -me.”</p> - -<p>She experienced a curious feeling of defeat, as her -hand dropped at her side. She was angry, yet she -admired him for it. She remembered that night -when he brought the hateful six pennies and she had -behaved disgracefully. Would he always put her in -the wrong? “I am sorry,” she said haughtily; “I -was offering you my friendship.”</p> - -<p>He smiled bitterly. “Were you, or mocking me -with it?”</p> - -<p>“Mr. Trench!”</p> - -<p>“Forgive me,” he said, in a low voice, but with -less self-control, “I came here a poor man; it was -necessary to make my bread, and I would have swept -offices to do it. I asked nothing and I received”—he -smiled with exceeding bitterness—“nothing. -Then, unhappily, Judge Hollis found out that I was -well-born; he told a few people that I was a gentleman. -It was a serious mistake; I have been treated -like a dog ever since.” He was thrashing the wayside -brush with his stick, and unconsciously beheaded -a dozen flowers; they fell at Diana’s feet, -but neither of them looked down. “I do not wish -to force myself upon your acquaintance, Miss Royall,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span> -he went on, the torrent of pent-up passion unspent. -“I understand the reason of your condescension at -the ball, but couldn’t you have found a more agreeable -way to chastise your cousin? I must have been -insufferable?”</p> - -<p>The intensity of the man’s wounded pride had -forced itself upon Diana; she was crimson with -mortification, yet she understood him—understood -him with a temperamental sympathy that sent a -thrill of alarm through her consciousness. “I never -knew before how very bad my manners were,” she -said simply.</p> - -<p>He turned and looked at her. All that was womanly -and beautiful in her face was crystallized in the colorless -atmosphere; her eyes dwelt upon him with a -kindness that was at once new and wholly unbearable. -“I’m a cub!” he retorted harshly; “how you -must hate me!”</p> - -<p>“On the contrary,” she said very sweetly, “I like -you.”</p> - -<p>Their eyes met with a challenge of angry pride, -then a whimsical smile quivered at the corners of her -mouth, and she clasped her hands innocently over -her ferns. “When you begin to like me we shall be -friends,” she said.</p> - -<p>There was an instant of awkward silence, and then -they both laughed, not happily, but with a nervous -quiver that suggested hysterical emotion.</p> - -<p>“I do not know when I began—to dislike you,” -he said.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span>“I deserved it from the first, I fancy,” she retorted, -hurrying on with her determination to show -her repentance; “I have behaved like a snob.”</p> - -<p>He did not reply; he stooped, instead, to pick up -the flowers that he had broken. “My mother would -never step on a flower or leave it to die in the road,” -he explained simply; “whenever I remember it I -pick them up. As a boy I recollect thinking that -there was some significance in it, that I must not -leave them to die.”</p> - -<p>Diana looked at him curiously, from under her -lashes. What manner of man was he? “It is a -sweet thought,” she said, “in a woman—a tenderness -of heart.”</p> - -<p>“Her heart was as tender as her soul was beautiful,” -said Caleb Trench; “she died when I was -twenty years old.”</p> - -<p>Diana held out her hand. “Will you give me the -flowers?” she asked simply.</p> - -<p>He gave them with a slight flush of surprise. “They -are poor and broken,” he apologized lamely.</p> - -<p>“I see that you think I have neither a heart nor a -soul,” she replied.</p> - -<p>He smiled. “I do not let myself think of either, -Miss Royall,” he said; “I fancy that a wise man will -always avoid the dizzy heights, and even a foolish -one will see a precipice.”</p> - -<p>Diana was silent; that she understood him would -have been apparent to the initiated, for her little ears -were red, but the proud curve of her lips remained<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span> -firm and the steady glance of her eyes rested on the -darkening valley. The hills had purpled to gray, -the sky was whitening, and in the west the evening -star shone like a point of flame.</p> - -<p>Out of the stillness her voice sounded unusually -soft and sweet. “I’m going to have some friends to -tea to-morrow afternoon, Mr. Trench,” she said; -“will you come?”</p> - -<p>“No,” he replied, and then added: “Pardon me, -that seems discourteous, but I am not going out again -here, Miss Royall.”</p> - -<p>Almost involuntarily she smiled. “We are playing -the game of tit-for-tat, Mr. Trench, and you’ve won.”</p> - -<p>“I have been a bear,” he replied, “but—Miss -Royall, it’s growing dark; let me take you home.”</p> - -<p>“I am waiting for my cousin,” she replied, and -then blushed hotly. “I promised to wait five minutes,” -she explained hastily, “while he talked to Mr. -Saxton at the farm. I suppose it’s politics; we’ve -been here long enough to quarrel three times.”</p> - -<p>Trench assumed her engagement to Jacob Eaton -and would not offer his escort a second time. “I am -taking the dog through the woods,” he said; “shall -we walk as far as the farm gate?”</p> - -<p>Diana laughed merrily. “I never went in search of -a lost knight in my life,” she said. “I’m going on; -it’s quite light and beautiful yet—good evening.”</p> - -<p>Trench swung around. “I will go with you,” he -said at once, “if you will permit me.”</p> - -<p>But at that moment Jacob Eaton came up. As<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span> -he recognized Trench, he stopped short and stared. -Then he joined Diana without acknowledging her -companion. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said, -“but the old fool was deaf. We may as well go on, -Diana.”</p> - -<p>But Diana stood still. “This is Mr. Trench,” she -said.</p> - -<p>The two men looked at each other. Eaton had -just heard more of what Caleb Trench thought of -the Land Company, but he knew Diana.</p> - -<p>“How d’ye do,” he said curtly.</p> - -<p>Trench made no reply. Diana gathered up the -soft white folds of her skirt and took two steps away. -“Good-night, Jacob,” she said sweetly, “Mr. Trench -will see me home. Tell Cousin Jinny I’ll bring over -the terrapin recipe in the morning.”</p> - -<p>Jacob said nothing, and Trench whistled to Shot. -The dog came bounding and followed his master and -Miss Royall down the path.</p> - -<p>Jacob stood stock-still and regarded what seemed -to him the beginning of miracles. Was it possible -that Diana was in open rebellion against society? -That Diana should be in open rebellion against him -was not amazing. She was wont to let him know -that he was a mere speck on the horizon, but that he -regarded as pretty coquetry, and of no consequence, -because he intended to marry Diana. But that -Diana should, a second time, prefer Caleb Trench to -him was beyond belief, and that she should do it -after certain revelations that he had just heard, was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span> -adding insult to injury, for Jacob had suddenly found -that the poor Yankee shopkeeper lawyer was a foe -worthy of his steel. He remained a long time motionless, -his heavy lids drooping over his eyes and his -brows meditative. He was, after all, a gentleman of -resources, and it was merely a question of how to -use them.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XIII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">IT was midnight and storming hard when Dr. -Cheyney stopped at Caleb’s door. Trench -heard the wheels and opened it as the old man -climbed down from his high buggy.</p> - -<p>“Caleb, I’ve come for brandy; got any?” the -doctor said briefly, coming in with his head bent in -the rain; his rubber coat was drawn up to his ears, -and the tails of it flapped against his thin legs.</p> - -<p>Trench had been reading late, and there was a fire -in the stove in the kitchen. “Go in and get dry a -moment, Doctor,” he said, “while I get brandy. It’s -no night for you, and at this hour too; your friends -must remonstrate.”</p> - -<p>“Damn it, sir, am I not the doctor?” said the old -man, lowering.</p> - -<p>“You’re that and something more, I take it,” -Caleb replied, smiling.</p> - -<p>“More?” Dr. Cheyney was out of temper. “Nay, -nay, I’m just a plain doctor, and I can take care of -both your big toes. These new-fangled ones can’t, -sir, that’s all! It’s the fashion now to have a doctor -for your nose and another for your toes and a -third for your stomach. Very good, let ’em! I do it -all and don’t get paid for it; that’s the difference.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span>“They do,” said Caleb, producing a flask of brandy.</p> - -<p>The doctor took it and thrust it deep into his big -outside pocket. “I’ll pay you when I get ready,” he -said dryly.</p> - -<p>Trench laughed. He heard the swirl of the rain -against the window-panes; it was nearly as bad as -the day he had sheltered Diana. He looked keenly -at the worn little old man and saw the streams of -water that had streaked his coat. “I have a great -mind to shut you up and keep you all night,” he -remarked.</p> - -<p>“For a ransom?” said the doctor grimly; “you -wouldn’t get it. Caleb, that poor girl, Jean Bartlett, -is dying.”</p> - -<p>Trench was startled. “I didn’t know she was ill,” -he replied; “Zeb came here and whined for money -when the grandmother died so suddenly, but he said -nothing of Jean.”</p> - -<p>“He never does,” said Dr. Cheyney, “the young -brute!”</p> - -<p>“Are you going there now?” Caleb asked.</p> - -<p>“Yep,” replied the doctor briefly; “I wanted more -brandy, for I’m like to catch my death, but I must -be about,—she’s dying. She may pull through -until morning. Pneumonia—a cold that last bad -storm. She lay out in the field half the night. She’s -done it a hundred times when they harried her; this -time it’s killed her. She’s not twenty.”</p> - -<p>Caleb reached for his hat. “I’m going with you,” -he said simply.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span>Dr. Cheyney threw him one of his shrewd looks. -“Afraid to trust me alone in the wet?” he asked -dryly.</p> - -<p>Caleb smiled. “To tell you the truth I was thinking -of Sammy. The poor little dirty beggar appeals -to me, he’s thoroughly boy, in spite of his curious -clothes, and Zeb is a drunken brute.”</p> - -<p>The doctor grunted and went out, making room -for Caleb at his side in the buggy. “I’m going to -send Sammy to St. Vincent’s,” he said.</p> - -<p>“Poor Sammy!” said Caleb.</p> - -<p>The doctor clucked, and old Henk moved off, -splashing through muddy water up to his fetlocks. -The road was dark, and the doctor had swung a lantern -between the back-wheels, a custom dear to rural -communities; it swung there, casting a dismal flare -under the buggy, which looked like a huge lightning-bug, -with fire at its tail.</p> - -<p>“Good enough for him!” continued the doctor -bluntly, referring to Sammy and the foundling -asylum.</p> - -<p>“Plenty,” assented Caleb, unmoved.</p> - -<p>This angered the doctor, as Caleb knew it would.</p> - -<p>“Little brat!” growled William Cheyney fiercely, -“what was he born for? Foundling asylum, of -course!”</p> - -<p>“Of course,” agreed Caleb, and smiled in the -darkness.</p> - -<p>“Damn!” said the doctor.</p> - -<p>They traveled on through the night; the wind<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span> -swept the boughs down, and the rain drove in their -faces even under the hood.</p> - -<p>“I can’t take him, drat it!” the old man broke -out again fiercely. “I’ve boarded for sixty years; -women are varmints, good women, I mean, and the -Colfaxes wouldn’t take Sammy for a day to save his -soul; he’s a child of shame.”</p> - -<p>Caleb laughed silently; he felt the doctor’s towering -wrath. “After all, wouldn’t it be a purgatory -for a small boy to live with the Colfaxes?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Yep,” said the doctor, “it would. Miss Maria -pins papers over the cracks in the parlor blinds to -keep the carpet from fading, and Miss Lucinda dusts -my office twice a day, for which she ought to be hung! -I reckon they’d make divided skirts for Sammy and -a frilled nightgown.”</p> - -<p>“There are the Children’s Guardians in the city,” -suggested Caleb thoughtfully.</p> - -<p>“There’s the Reform School,” retorted the doctor -bitingly.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile old Henk traveled on, gaining in speed, -for part of the road was on his way home and he -coveted the flesh-pots of Egypt. The splashing of -his feet in the mire kept time with the sob of the gale. -Nearer and nearer drew the light in Jean Bartlett’s -window.</p> - -<p>“I told the Royalls she was dying,” Dr. Cheyney -said, “and to-day Diana was there. She sat with her -an hour and tried to quiet her. Jean was raving and, -at last, I ordered the girl away; she’d no business<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span> -worrying in such a scene as that; then she told me -she would take Sammy! She—Diana!” the old -man flung out his free hand and beat the air, “that -girl! I wanted to shake her. Yet, it’s like her; -she’s got heart.”</p> - -<p>Caleb Trench, sitting back in his corner, summoned -up a picture of the old man and Diana, and could not -quite reconcile it with the Diana he knew. “You did -not shake her,” he said; “what did you do?”</p> - -<p>“Sent her home,” said the doctor bluntly, “drat -it! Do you think a girl of her age ought to start a -foundling asylum for charity’s sake? I told her her -father would have her ears boxed, and she laughed in -my face. David Royall worships her, but, Lordy, not -even David would tolerate that!”</p> - -<p>A low bough scraped the top of the carriage and -they jogged on. Presently, old Henk stopped unwillingly -and they got down, a little wet and stiff, -and went silently into the house. It was stricken -silent, too, except for the ticking of a clock in the -kitchen, and that sounded to Caleb like a minute -gun; it seemed to tick all through the house,—the -three small rooms below, the rickety stairs and the -attic above. There was a light in the kitchen, and -there, on top of some old quilts in a packing box, -lay Sammy asleep.</p> - -<p>In the room beyond the kitchen, in the middle of -the great, old-fashioned four-poster, that was worn -and scratched and without a valance, lay Jean Bartlett. -Her fair hair streamed across the pillow, her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span> -thin arms lay extended on either side, her chin was -up, she lay as if on a cross, and she was dead.</p> - -<p>From the far corner rose the woman whom the -doctor had left to watch her. “She’s just gone, -doctor,” she said laconically, without emotion.</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney shot a look at her from under his -eyebrows, and went over to look at Jean. The light -from the poor little lamp fell full on her thin small-featured -face and showed it calm; she was as pretty as -a child and quite happy looking.</p> - -<p>“Thank God!” said the doctor, “that’s over. -Where’s Zeb?”</p> - -<p>“Up-stairs, drunk,” said the woman; “if it warn’t -raining so hard I’d go.”</p> - -<p>The doctor looked over his spectacles. “Then -you’ll take the child along,” he said gravely.</p> - -<p>“That I won’t!” said she, “I’ve children of my -own. I won’t have none such as him.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, you won’t?” exclaimed the old man.</p> - -<p>“I thought you’d take him,” said she, reddening.</p> - -<p>“There are two women folks up at the house,” said -the doctor dryly; “being a nameless child—out he -goes!”</p> - -<p>“Well, I don’t care,” said the nurse fiercely, “I -feel so myself; there’s the foundling asylum.”</p> - -<p>“He’ll fall on the stove here in the morning,” remarked -the doctor.</p> - -<p>The woman shut her mouth.</p> - -<p>“Zeb’s drunk,” the old man added.</p> - -<p>“I won’t take him,” she said flatly; “if I do, nobody’ll<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span> -take him away. It’s the same with a baby -as it is with a stray kitten, once you take it you keep -it. I ain’t goin’ to take Jean Bartlett’s brat.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t!” snapped the doctor, “for of such is the -kingdom of heaven!”</p> - -<p>Then he went out, turning his collar up again to -his ears. “I’m going for the undertaker, Caleb.”</p> - -<p>They stopped as he spoke and looked down at -Jean’s boy. He lay with his arm across his face; he -had not been undressed and one foot hung pendent -in a forlorn and heelless shoe.</p> - -<p>“The end of the drama,” commented the doctor -dryly, “the sufferer.”</p> - -<p>Caleb stooped down and gently lifted the sleeping -child; he wrapped the old quilt about him, and bore -him to the door. The doctor followed, then he -reached over and put his hand on the latch.</p> - -<p>“What are you doing?” he asked sharply.</p> - -<p>“I’ve taken him,” said Trench calmly; “open the -door.”</p> - -<p>“You’ve no one to care for him.” Dr. Cheyney -eyed him keenly.</p> - -<p>“No,” he replied; “so much the better, the place -is lonely.”</p> - -<p>“You know what they’ll say?”</p> - -<p>The young man’s face stiffened. “What?”</p> - -<p>“That he’s your child,” said the doctor.</p> - -<p>“Open the door,” said Caleb Trench.</p> - -<p>The doctor opened it, then Trench stood straight, -Sammy’s tousled head on his shoulder.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</span>“Dr. Cheyney,” he said sternly, “if every stone in -Paradise Ridge rose up to accuse me, I’d still do as -I pleased.”</p> - -<p>William Cheyney smiled grimly. “I believe you -would,” he said, “but let me tell you, Caleb, you’ve -got your fate by the forelock now!”</p> - -<p>Yet he helped Trench put the sleeping child into -the carriage, and as they did it a new sound gurgled -into the night, the voice of the tippler in the attic, -who had been shut up there alone and frightened, -but was sipping and sipping to keep up his spirits. -Now he sang, one kind of spirits rising as the other -kind went down. And the song that followed them -through the night, as they drove away from the house -of death, with the nameless child between them, was -“After the Ball.”</p> - -<p>“The Lord forgive us!” said the doctor musingly; -“it’s ‘after the ball’ with most of us, and then the -straight house! G’long with you, Henk!”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XIV</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">JUNIPER’S spouse, Aunt Charity, was in the -habit of sweeping out Caleb’s office and washing -his windows, and the morning after Jean Bartlett’s -death was her morning for scouring the premises. -She was a stout old woman, nearly black, with -a high pompadour, the arms and shoulders of a stonemason, -and “a mighty misery” in her side. She -stopped five times in the course of sweeping the inner -office and stood, leaning on her broom, to survey -the bundle of indiscriminate clothes on the floor, -which was Sammy.</p> - -<p>The transfer had disturbed him so little that, after -his first screams of surprise, he had renewed his insatiable -demands for pennies, and having one clasped -tightly in either fist he sat in the middle of the floor -viewing the world in general, and Aunt Charity in -particular, with the suspicion of a financier. On her -side, suspicion was equally apparent.</p> - -<p>“Fo’ de Lawd!” she said, and swept another -half yard, then stopped and viewed the intruder. -“Fo’ de Lawd!” she said again.</p> - -<p>Sammy heard her and clasped his pennies tighter; -he read enmity in her eye and doubted. Aunt -Charity swept harder, her broom approaching the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</span> -rear end of Sammy’s calico petticoat. “Git up, yo’ -white trash, yo’,” she commanded, using the broom -to emphasize her order.</p> - -<p>“Won’t!” wailed Sammy, “won’t! Shan’t have -my pennies!”</p> - -<p>“Git up!” said Aunt Charity; “w’at yo’ heah for, -ennyway?”</p> - -<p>“Yow!” yelled Sammy, wriggling along before the -broom and weeping.</p> - -<p>On this scene entered Caleb Trench, grave, somewhat -weary, and with a new stern look that came -from a night’s wrestle with his own will. “What’s -all this, Aunt Charity?”</p> - -<p>“Ain’t noffin,” said she aggressively; “I’se -sweepin’. I ain’t doin’ noffin an’ I ain’t gwine ter do -noffin to dat pore white trash.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, you will,” said Caleb calmly; “you’ll give -him a bath and put some decent clothes on him.”</p> - -<p>“N-o-o-o-o-o!” shrieked Sammy.</p> - -<p>“’Deed I ain’t!” retorted Aunt Charity, with indignation. -“Ain’t dat Jean Bartlett’s chile?”</p> - -<p>Trench nodded, looking from the old black woman -to the small aggressive bundle on the floor. Aunt -Charity tossed her head. “I ain’t gwine ter touch -him!”</p> - -<p>A sudden fierce light shone in Caleb’s gray eyes, -a light that had a peculiarly quelling effect on the -beholder. Aunt Charity met it and cowered, clasping -her broom. “You’ll do what I say,” he replied, -without raising his voice.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</span>“Fo’ de Lawd!” gasped Aunt Charity and whimpered; -“yo’ sho ain’t gwine ter keep dat chile heah?”</p> - -<p>“And why not?” asked Caleb.</p> - -<p>“Lawsy me, suh, ain’t yo’ gwine ter know w’at -folks’ll say? Dere’s gwine ter be a talkation.”</p> - -<p>“Very likely, poor little devil!” Caleb retorted -grimly, “and your tongue to help it, but you’d -better hold it, Charity; you’re here to do what I -want—or to go elsewhere, see?”</p> - -<p>“Yass, suh,” she replied hastily, “I’se gwine ter -do it, but I sure wishes yo’d let me take de chile -where he b’longs.”</p> - -<p>“Where he belongs?” Caleb turned sharply.</p> - -<p>“I ain’t sayin’,” cried Aunt Charity, thoroughly -frightened, “I ain’t saying—” Then she stopped -with her mouth open, for she had seen the figure in -the outer room that Caleb did not see.</p> - -<p>Her look made him turn, however, to come face to -face with Jacob Eaton. He went out and closed the -door on the inner office sharply, not conscious that -Aunt Charity promptly dropped on her knees and -put her eye to the keyhole.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, the two men measured each other with -peculiar enmity. Jacob thrust his hands into his -pockets and stood smiling, a smooth face but not a -pleasant one.</p> - -<p>“I came to see you on a matter of business,” he -drawled, “but I’m afraid I disturb you.” He had -seen the scene in the inner room.</p> - -<p>Caleb’s height was greater than his, and he looked<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[142]</span> -down at him with an inscrutable face; his temper -was quick, but he had the rare advantage of not -showing it.</p> - -<p>“I am quite at leisure,” he said coldly, without the -slightest attempt at courtesy.</p> - -<p>“I had the pleasure of reading your Cresset speech,” -said Jacob amusedly, “and I regret that I didn’t -hear it. I congratulate you, it was excellent reading.”</p> - -<p>Trench looked at him keenly. “You didn’t come -here this morning to tell me that,” he said. “Come, -Mr. Eaton, what is it?”</p> - -<p>“No,” said Jacob, still smiling, “I didn’t come for -that, you’re right. I came to make a business -proposition.”</p> - -<p>There was a pause, and Trench made no reply. -Jacob began to find, instead, that his silence was a -peculiar and compelling weapon.</p> - -<p>“You have made me the butt of your speeches,” -he continued, with his first touch of anger, “and your -attacks are chiefly aimed at the Land Company of -which I am the president. I suppose you are fully -aware of this?”</p> - -<p>Caleb smiled involuntarily. “I could not be unaware,” -he observed.</p> - -<p>“Then, perhaps, you are not unaware of what I -came for,” Jacob said.</p> - -<p>“Possibly,” replied Trench, folding his arms and -leaning back against the wall, and studying Eaton -with a coolly indifferent scrutiny that brought the -color to Jacob’s face.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[143]</span>“Ah, you have probably been expecting my visit?” -he said; “in other words, I suppose you’ve had an -object in stirring up this excitement, in directing -this attack upon me.”</p> - -<p>“I have undoubtedly had an object,” Caleb Trench -replied, after a moment’s silence.</p> - -<p>Jacob’s smile was a sneer. “We’re business men, -Mr. Trench,” he said; “I’m here this morning to -know the size of that object.”</p> - -<p>Caleb moved slightly, but his arms were still folded -on his breast and he still leant against the wall; his -cool, unwinking gaze began to dash Eaton’s composure; -he could not be the finished and superior -gentleman he thought himself, under those relentless -eyes. He shifted his own position restlessly, drawing -nearer to his adversary.</p> - -<p>“Come,” he said, “name your price.”</p> - -<p>“My what?” demanded Trench.</p> - -<p>“Your price,” Eaton sneered openly, his smooth -face crimson. In some way, to his own consciousness, -he seemed to be shrinking into insignificance -before the other man’s strong personality, his force, -his coolness.</p> - -<p>“Do you suppose, because I have sold goods and -handled merchandise, that I am also on a level with -my trade?” Caleb asked coolly, so coolly that Jacob -was blinded to his peril.</p> - -<p>“You are a trader,” said he bitingly, “a petty -tradesman and a petty politician; as such you have -your price.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</span>Caleb turned his face full toward him, and suddenly -Eaton realized the terrible light in his eyes. -“You lie,” he said slowly, deliberately, each word -like a slap in the face; “you are a liar.”</p> - -<p>Jacob sprang at him, fury in his own face, and -prudence gone. But as he sprang Trench met him -with a blow straight from the shoulder. It caught -Eaton fairly and sent him sprawling, full length on -the floor.</p> - -<p>“By the Lord Harry, you got it, Jacob!” cried -Judge Hollis from the door, where he had appeared -unheard.</p> - -<p>As Jacob rose foaming, Caleb saw Aaron Todd’s -head behind the judge, and after him Peter Mahan.</p> - -<p>There was no time to speak. Eaton flew at him -again, his head down, and for the second time Caleb -landed him on his back. Then the judge intervened.</p> - -<p>“That’s enough,” he said dryly. “I reckon he -needed it, but he’s got it. Get up, Jacob, and keep -quiet.”</p> - -<p>But Jacob would not; he got up to his feet again -and made a rush forward, only to find himself clasped -tight in Aaron Todd’s strong arms.</p> - -<p>“Be quiet,” said Todd, “you’ll go down again like -a sack of salt, you idiot! You’re too full of booze -to risk a blow on your solar plexis.”</p> - -<p>Eaton swore. “Let me go,” he said, “do you think -I’ll take it from that fellow? You’re a prize-fighter!” -he added between his teeth, lowering at Trench, and -wriggling helplessly in Aaron’s arms, “you’re a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</span> -common prize-fighter; if you were a gentleman you’d -settle it with pistols!”</p> - -<p>“Tut, tut!” said the judge.</p> - -<p>“I will, if you like,” said Caleb coolly, his own -wrath cooled by victory.</p> - -<p>Jacob’s eyes flashed; he was a noted shot. “I’ll -send some one to you later,” he said, the perspiration -standing out on his forehead, as he wrenched himself -from Todd’s arms.</p> - -<p>“I’ve a mind to report you both to Judge Ladd,” -said Judge Hollis, but his fiery old soul loved the -smoke of battle.</p> - -<p>Jacob, panting and disheveled, reached for his -hat. “It will be to-morrow,” he said, “and with -pistols—if you consent.”</p> - -<p>Caleb looked at Todd and Mahan. “Will you -represent me, gentlemen?” he asked quietly, something -like a glint of humor in his eyes.</p> - -<p>Todd nodded, and Peter Mahan, a keen-visaged -Irish Yankee, beamed. To his soul a battle was the -essence of life, and a duel was not unreasonable west -of the Mississippi.</p> - -<p>“Folly,” said Judge Hollis, secretly exultant, -“rotten folly; let it drop.”</p> - -<p>Jacob turned at the door, his face livid. “Not -till I’ve sent him to hell,” he said, and walked out.</p> - -<p>The judge brought his fist down on his knee. “By -the Lord Harry,” he said, “it was this day twenty-odd -years ago that Yarnall shot Jacob’s father.”</p> - -<p>“I shan’t shoot Jacob,” said Caleb dryly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[146]</span>Judge Hollis turned quickly. “What do you -mean?” he began, but was interrupted.</p> - -<p>The door between the rooms opened suddenly, after -much restless but unnoticed wriggling of the knob, -and Sammy, in his plaid petticoat and his brass-buttoned -jacket, came in on wobbly legs. He stopped -abruptly and viewed the group, finger in mouth.</p> - -<p>“My God, what’s that?” exclaimed Judge Hollis -blankly.</p> - -<p>Caleb laughed. “My ward,” he said, and then he -looked up and met three pairs of curious eyes. “It’s -Jean Bartlett’s child,” he explained simply; “she -died last night, and Dr. Cheyney threatened the -Foundling Asylum, so I just brought the kid here; -there’s room.”</p> - -<p>Judge Hollis leaned forward, both hands on his -knees, and viewed the child. “What did you do it -for, Caleb?” he asked, in the midst of the pause.</p> - -<p>“Heaven knows!” said Caleb, smiling, as he filled -his pipe. “I fancy because the poor little devil had -no home, and I’ve known what it was to want one.”</p> - -<p>The judge rubbed his chin. “I’m beat!” he said.</p> - -<p>The other two men looked on silently while Caleb -lit his pipe. Sammy picked up the judge’s cane from -the floor and tried slowly and solemnly to swallow -the gold knob on the top of it. The judge sank -slowly back into his chair, the old worn leather -chair. “And there’ll be a duel to-morrow!” he remarked; -then, looking at the child, he added feelingly, -“It beats the band!”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[147]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XV</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE time for the duel was an hour before sunrise -the following day, and to Caleb Trench, -the Quaker, it was a gross absurdity. He -had knocked down Jacob Eaton as he would have -knocked down any man who insulted him, and he -would have fought Jacob with his fists, but to shoot -him down in cold blood was another matter; not -that Trench was over merciful toward a man like -Eaton, nor that he lacked the rancor, for an insult -lingers in the blood like slow poison.</p> - -<p>Eaton had selected two young men from the city, -and the cartel had been delivered with all the care -and joy of an unusual entertainment. To Aaron -Todd, the farmer, it was a matter as ridiculous as it -was to Trench, though he could understand two men -drawing their weapons on each other in a moment of -disagreement. But Peter Mahan loved it as dearly -as did Willis Broughton, a grand-nephew, by the -way, of old Judge Hollis. The place chosen was -Little Neck Meadow, and the seconds made their -arrangements without any personal qualms. A fight, -after all, in that broad southwestern country was like -the salt on a man’s meat.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile the news that Caleb Trench had taken<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[148]</span> -in Jean Bartlett’s child dropped like a stone in a still -pool, sending the ripples of gossip eddying into wider -circles until the edges of the puddle broke in muddy -waves, for no one had ever really known who was the -father of Jean’s boy. So, before Caleb rose at daybreak, -to go to Little Neck Meadow, his adoption of -Sammy was as famous as his Cresset speech, and as -likely to bear unexpected fruits.</p> - -<p>Old Judge Hollis had remonstrated against both -the child and the duel, but not so warmly against the -last as the first, and when he went away there was a -new look in his eyes. After all, what manner of man -was the shopkeeping lawyer of the Cross-Roads? -The judge shook his head, wondering; wondering, -also, that he loved him, for he did. The power of -Caleb Trench lay deeper than the judge’s plummet, -and, perhaps, it was that which lent the sudden -sweetness to his rare smile.</p> - -<p>But there was no smile on Caleb’s face when he -went out, in the white mist of the morning, to fight -Jacob Eaton with pistols. He took the woodland road -on foot, alone, for he had sent his strangely assorted -seconds ahead of him. As he walked he was chiefly -aware of the soft beauty of the morning under the -trees, and he caught the keen glint of light on the -slender stem of a silver birch that stood at the head -of the path, and he heard the chirp of a song-sparrow. -A scarlet hooded woodpecker was climbing the trunk -of the tall hickory as he passed, and a ground squirrel -dashed across the trail. Caleb walked on, thinking<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[149]</span> -a little of the possibility of death, and a great deal of -the gross incongruity of his act with his life and his -parentage. Through the soft light he seemed to see -his mother’s face, and the miracle of her love touched -him again. At heart he was simple, as all great -natures are, and tender; he could not have left Jean -Bartlett’s child in the woodbox. Yet he had no -mind to show that side of his nature, for he was shy -in his feelings, and he had borne the hurt of solitude -and neglect long and in silence; silence is a habit, -too, and bears fruit.</p> - -<p>He walked slowly, looking through the trees at the -river which, now before sunrise, was the color of lead, -with a few ghostly lily-pads floating at its edges. -Beyond, he saw the high swamp grass that fringed -the edge of the delta; below lay Little Neck Meadow. -The other thought that haunted him, the picture of -Diana in the old leather chair beside his own hearthstone, -with the kindling glow of the wood fire on her -face, he thrust resolutely aside. After all, he was -nothing to Diana but the petty tradesman of Eshcol, -and now—if she knew—the intending murderer -of her kinsman. Yet it was Diana who walked before -him along the narrowing path. Thus do our emotions -play us tricks to our undoing, even in life’s most -vital moments.</p> - -<p>But to the group waiting in the meadow, Caleb -Trench appeared as unmoved as stone. He was -prompt to the moment and accepted their arrangements -without a question.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[150]</span>Afterwards Aaron Todd told the story of the duel -at the tavern. Eaton and his seconds were in faultless -attire and eager for the fray. At the last moment -Todd had sent for Dr. Cheyney; his early arrival -meant an explosion against dueling, and no one -thought of waiting for him except Peter Mahan.</p> - -<p>It ended in the two taking their places just as the -whole eastern sky ran into molten gold; it lacked -but a few moments, therefore, of sunrise, and there -was still a light mist.</p> - -<p>Jacob Eaton, who was a noted shot, had been -drinking the night before, against the best efforts of -his friends. Trench stood like a pillar of stone. The -word was given, and both men raised their weapons. -Jacob fired and missed, then Caleb very deliberately -fired in the air. He had never even glanced at his -challenger. It was at this that Jacob Eaton lost his -temper and his wits and fired again, deliberately -attempting to shoot down his enemy. The bullet -went through Caleb’s left arm, missing his heart, and -Willis Broughton threw himself upon Eaton and -disarmed him.</p> - -<p>When Dr. Cheyney came, Caleb had tied up his -own arm with Todd’s help, and was the calmest person -there. Eaton was hustled off the field by his -seconds, and the story—told a hundred ways—was -thrown into the campaign.</p> - -<p>Old Dr. Cheyney drove Caleb home. “I reckon -the fool killer wasn’t out this morning,” he remarked -dryly, as he set him down before the office door, “or<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[151]</span> -else he only winged you out of compassion. Caleb -Trench, for a man of common horse sense, you can be -the biggest fool west of the Mississippi. Adopted -Sammy, I suppose?” he added, cocking an eyebrow -aggressively.</p> - -<p>Trench smiled. “Might as well,” he said.</p> - -<p>“Precisely,” said the doctor, “if you want anything -more, let me know. I’ve got one old rooster -and a gobbler, that’s tough enough to be Job’s. -G’long, Henk!”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[152]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XVI</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">“I  TELL you, David Royall, I can’t understand -I how you ever let that man come to your house,” -Mrs. Eaton said; “a common man in the first -place, and now—why, there can’t be any doubt at -all about Jean Bartlett! Hasn’t he got the child?”</p> - -<p>Colonel Royall tilted his chair against the pillar -of the veranda and looked at her mildly. “That’s -where the doubt comes in, Jinny,” he remarked.</p> - -<p>“I can’t understand you!” she retorted tartly, -dropping a stitch in her crocheting and struggling -blindly to pick it up. “I can’t in the least understand -your doubts—it’s obvious.”</p> - -<p>“Which?” said the colonel, “the doubt or -Sammy?”</p> - -<p>“Both!” said she.</p> - -<p>“Well, Dr. Cheyney told me about it,” said the -colonel, “and I’m not sure that I believe all the other -things I hear. Give him the benefit of the doubt, -Jinny.”</p> - -<p>“There isn’t any doubt,” declared Mrs. Eaton; -“everybody says he’s the father of that child.”</p> - -<p>Colonel Royall shook his head slowly. “It isn’t -like the male critter, Jinny,” he argued mildly, “to -take in the child; he’d most likely ship it.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[153]</span>“Some women do that!” said Mrs. Eaton sharply, -shutting her thin lips.</p> - -<p>The colonel turned a terrible face upon her. -“Jinny!”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Eaton reddened and her hands shook, but she -went on without regarding his anger. “At least, -he’s the father of the Cresset speech, you’ll admit -that, and, if you please, here is this duel with Jacob—with -my son!”</p> - -<p>“I believe Jacob was the challenger,” said Colonel -Royall.</p> - -<p>“He couldn’t stand being insulted by such trash!” -said the indignant mother.</p> - -<p>The colonel smiled broadly. “Come, Jinny, why -did he go there?”</p> - -<p>“How should I know?” she retorted hotly; “some -political reason, of course, and Trench took advantage -of it, as a common man would.”</p> - -<p>The colonel began to whittle a stick, man’s resource -from time immemorial. “Jinny,” he said, -“you’re the greatest partisan on earth; if you could -lead a political party you’d cover your antagonist -with confusion. When I see Jacob beating his head -against a wall I always remember he’s your son.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Eaton’s face relaxed a little. “Jacob takes -after my family,” she admitted, smiling; “he’s like -them in looks and he has all their charm.”</p> - -<p>“Why don’t you say yours, Jinny?” asked the -colonel, twinkling.</p> - -<p>“I don’t think you half appreciate that,” she replied,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[154]</span> -with a touch of coquetry; “if you did, you -wouldn’t quarrel with me about Caleb Trench.”</p> - -<p>“Do I?” said the colonel.</p> - -<p>She let her crochet work drop in her lap and looked -at him attentively. “Do you mean to say you agree -with me?” she demanded.</p> - -<p>The colonel laughed. “I’m not a violent man, -Jinny; since the war I’ve been a man of peace. -I’m not sure that I’ve got all the faith I ought to -have in these young iconoclasts.”</p> - -<p>“Faith in that man!” Mrs. Eaton threw up her -hands. “If you had, David, I wouldn’t have any -in you!”</p> - -<p>“Your conversation has rather led me to assume -that you had lost faith in my opinions,” he retorted, -amused.</p> - -<p>“Well, sometimes, Cousin David, I think you’re -too willing to have the wool combed over your eyes!” -she said severely; “you’re so broad-minded, I suppose, -that you don’t think enough of the natural -prejudices of our own class.”</p> - -<p>“Well, Jinny,” said the colonel dryly, “I’m a -little tired of our class.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Eaton raised her head to reply with indignation, -but utterance was suspended by Diana’s approach. -Her appearance always had the effect of -breaking off a conversation in the middle. She was -still a vision in pink muslin, with a wide straw hat -trimmed with roses. She swept out, fresh and sweet -and buoyant.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[155]</span>“What are you two quarreling about?” she asked. -“I can’t leave you alone together any more; you fight -like game cocks. Of course it’s politics or social customs; -you haven’t got to religion yet, thank heaven! -When you do I shall have to send for the bishop.”</p> - -<p>“It’s about that wretched man,” said Mrs. Eaton -fretfully. “I told David that he ought not to be -received here!”</p> - -<p>“Well,” said the colonel thoughtfully, “I’m not -sure he could be after this fight with Jacob; blood’s -thicker than water. But do you know, Jinny, I -don’t believe he’ll come?”</p> - -<p>“Come!” cried Mrs. Eaton; “dear me, do you -imagine that a poor creature like that would lose the -chance?”</p> - -<p>Colonel Royall smiled whimsically. “Jinny,” -said he, “your grandfather made his money selling -molasses in New Orleans.”</p> - -<p>She gazed at him coldly. “It was wholesale,” she -said, with withering contempt.</p> - -<p>The colonel shook with silent laughter.</p> - -<p>All this time Diana had not opened her lips; she -stepped down from the piazza into the grass now and -unfurled her parasol.</p> - -<p>“I hope you’re not going to make my unfortunate -grandfather a reason for inviting Caleb Trench here,” -said Mrs. Eaton bitingly, her eyes fixed on the -colonel’s flushed face.</p> - -<p>“Cousin Jinny, he won’t come,” said Diana -suddenly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[156]</span>Both her father and Mrs. Eaton looked at her -astonished. “How do you know?” the latter asked -unconvinced.</p> - -<p>“I asked him,” said Diana, and blushed.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Eaton was amazed. “You asked that man—that -person—and he refused your invitation?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” replied Diana, scarlet now.</p> - -<p>Her elderly cousin dropped her hands helplessly in -her lap. “Diana Royall, I’m ashamed of you!”</p> - -<p>“I was ashamed of myself,” said Diana.</p> - -<p>The colonel rubbed the back of his head thoughtfully. -“I reckon he had a reason, Di,” he said at -last.</p> - -<p>“I have a reason for not asking him again,” replied -his daughter.</p> - -<p>“Thank heaven!” ejaculated Mrs. Eaton devoutly.</p> - -<p>The girl turned away and walked slowly across the -lawn. Two of the setters followed her half-way, but, -unencouraged, fell back lazily to lie in the cool grass. -As she went the murmur of indignant voices died -away, and she passed into the cool shadow of the -horse-chestnuts. Her face still burned with the blush -of vexation that Mrs. Eaton had summoned, and her -heart beat a little faster at the thought that she had -never asked any man to accept their hospitality before -in vain. It was preposterous and rude, yet, in -her heart, she respected Caleb Trench for refusing it. -Even at Kitty Broughton’s ball he had been accepted -only on tolerance and because of Judge Hollis. She -had seen him slighted, and then the prejudice had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[157]</span> -been against his poor little shop at the village Cross-Roads -and his black Republicanism, in a section that -was rankly Democratic. Now they had a greater -cause, the Cresset speech, the attacks upon Eaton, -the duel at Little Neck Meadow—of which no one -could get the truth, for no one knew socially Peter -Mahan or Aaron Todd—and last of all the scandal -of the child. The story of poor Jean Bartlett had -passed from lip to lip now that Sammy played on the -door-step of the most unique figure in local politics.</p> - -<p>Gossips had promptly decided that Sammy was -Caleb’s child, and Jean’s had been a peculiarly sad -case. The story lost nothing in transmission, and -Diana tried not to recall details as she walked. Why -should she? The man was nothing to her! Her -father did not believe all he heard, and neither did -she, but she was more tormented than if she had believed -the worst. Certainty carries healing in its -wings; doubt is more cruel than a whip of scorpions. -She had tried to understand the man and she could -not; one thing contradicted another, but he was -strong, his figure loomed above the others, and the -storm was gathering about it, as the clouds sweep -around the loftiest peak.</p> - -<p>The hottest contest for years was brewing in the -conventions, and it was known—and well-known—that -Caleb Trench had an immense influence with the -largest element of the party. He was convinced that -Aylett’s government was weak and permeated with -corruption, and he was making his conviction public,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[158]</span> -with a force and certainty that were bewildering far -older politicians. In fact, the man was no politician -at all; he was a born reformer, and he was making -himself felt.</p> - -<p>Diana, too, had felt his force and resented it. She -resented also his duel with her cousin. The cheap -sensationalism of a duel irritated her, and she did not -place the whole blame upon Jacob, for she knew—Aunt -Charity had spread it—that Caleb had knocked -Jacob down. She was ashamed that she almost -tingled with joy at the thought of him towering in -wrath over Jacob, for she could divine the insulting -tone that must have provoked him beyond endurance. -She could divine it, but she would not accept it. -Jacob was her own relation, and Jacob had been -knocked down. It was maddening from that point -of view, and Diana felt that nothing but blood could -have atoned to her for being laid in the dust. Yet -she thrilled at the thought that Caleb Trench had -dealt the blow, that the son of the Philadelphia -Quaker was a man. Thus contradictory is the heart -of woman!</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, she had left the confines of Broad -Acres and was walking slowly up the trail to Angel -Pass. Not far away was the spot where she had -stood and talked with Caleb in the sweet twilight. -Below her, as the path climbed, was the long slope -of rolling meadows which lay between this spot and -Paradise Ridge. Around her the tree trunks stood in -serried ranks, and here and there, where the wild<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[159]</span> -grapevines hung in long festoons, she noticed the -tight clusters of green grapes. She wished devoutly -that she could think of something beside the slightly -awkward figure, the sharp lines of the clean-cut face, -as it had looked in the twilight. Since then they had -met more than once, but it was that picture of him -which haunted her, and she was scarcely startled -when she turned the corner by the pines and saw -him ahead of her with Shot.</p> - -<p>He heard her footstep, and when she would have -turned to avoid him, he prevented it by facing about -and greeting her. Both were conscious of constraint. -Jacob Eaton’s bullet had not broken the bone of his -arm, but the arm was still bandaged under the sleeve -and stiff, and the fact of the duel seemed to materialize -between them. The other thought, the thought -of Jean Bartlett and her child, sprang up unbidden in -her heart, and she was woman enough to wince. A -torrent of feeling swept through her like a whirlpool, -and she would not have told what it was, or whence -it came. Her face crimsoned, and unconsciously she -drew back. Something in his face, in the compelling -light in his eyes, made her catch her breath. On his -side, he saw only reluctance and repulsion, and mistook -it for rebuke. He remembered that report said -she was to marry Jacob Eaton, and he had knocked -Jacob Eaton down. He would have been less than -human had he not experienced then one instant of -unholy joy to think that he had done it. Neither -spoke for a full moment, then he did ceremoniously.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[160]</span>“Pardon me,” he said, “I ought not to intrude upon -you, Miss Royall. I see that I am doubly unfortunate, -both unexpected and unwelcome.”</p> - -<p>Diana struggled with herself. “Unexpected, certainly,” -she said, conscious that it was a falsehood, -for had he not haunted her? “but unwelcome—why? -This is a public place, Mr. Trench.”</p> - -<p>He smiled bitterly. “Fairly answered,” he said; -“you can be cruel, Miss Royall. I am aware that to -you—I merely cumber the earth.”</p> - -<p>“I believe you refused an invitation to come to -our house,” she retorted.</p> - -<p>He swung around in the path, facing her fully, and -she felt his determination, with almost a thrill of pride -in him.</p> - -<p>“Miss Royall—I have no right to say a word,” he -said, “but do you think—for one instant—that if -you gave that invitation sincerely I would refuse it? -You know I would not. I would come with all -my heart. But—because I know how absurd it is, -because I know how you feel, I will not. I am too -proud to be your unwelcome guest. Yet I am not -too proud to speak to-night. God knows I wish I -could kill it in my heart, but I will say it. I love -you.”</p> - -<p>Diana stretched her hand out involuntarily and -rested it against the slender stem of a young pine; -she clung to it to feel reality, for the world seemed to -be turning around. She never opened her lips and -she dared not look at him; she had met that light in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[161]</span> -his eyes once and dared not raise hers. If she had! -But she did not—and he went on.</p> - -<p>“It is madness, I know it,” he said bitterly, “and -if I could strangle it—as a living thing—I would, -but I cannot. I love you and have loved you from -the first. It would be mockery indeed to accept your -chary invitations. I suppose you think that it is an -insult for me to speak to you, but”—he smiled bitterly—“to -myself I should seem a little less than a -man if I did not. However, I beg your pardon, if it -seems an affront.”</p> - -<p>Diana tried twice to speak before she could utter a -word. Then she seemed to hear her own voice quite -calm. “I do not consider it so. I—I am sorry.”</p> - -<p>He turned away. “Thank you,” he said abruptly, -“I would like to be, at least, your friend.” He added -this with a reluctance that told of a bitter struggle -with his own pride.</p> - -<p>Diana held out her hand with a gesture as sweet as -it was involuntary. “You are,” she said, quite simply. -“Mr. Trench, I—I take it as an honor.”</p> - -<p>He held her hand, looking at her with an amazement -that made her blush deeply. She felt her emotion -stifling her, tears were rushing to her eyes. How -dreadful it was for him to force her into this position. -They were as widely sundered as the poles, and yet -she no sooner met his eyes than she wavered and -began to yield; she snatched her hand away.</p> - -<p>“Thank you a thousand times for saying that!” he -murmured.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[162]</span>She fled; she was half-way up the path; the sunshine -and the breeze swept down from Angel Pass. -She was conscious of him still standing there and -turned and looked back. “Good-bye!” she called -softly over her shoulder, and was gone.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[163]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XVII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">IT was in the heat of midsummer that Judge Hollis -walked into Caleb’s inner office.</p> - -<p>“Caleb,” he said, “I’m hanged if I haven’t -changed the color of my coat and come to your opinion. -After this I’m for Yarnall.”</p> - -<p>Caleb smiled, leaning back wearily in his chair and -glancing unconsciously at Sammy, the innocent cause -of much scandal in Eshcol, who lay asleep beside -Shot on the floor, his chubby arms around the dog’s -neck.</p> - -<p>The smoke of the two great conventions was still in -the air. Two weeks before the Republicans had -peacefully and hopelessly nominated Peter Mahan -for Governor, and the Democrats, after a deadlock -and a disgraceful collapse of the opposition, had nominated -Aylett. Every politician in the State knew -that it had cost the Eaton faction nearly two hundred -thousand dollars. There had been a storm of -indignation, and Yarnall had come back and put his -case in the hands of the Republican lawyer, Caleb -Trench! The indignation and chagrin of the older -Democratic lawyers added nothing to the beauty of -the situation, but Caleb had grasped it silently and -was dealing with it. In ten days he had forced the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[164]</span> -Grand Jury to indict both Aylett and Eaton, along -with half a dozen of their lieutenants, and the hour -of the great trial was approaching. Feeling ran so -high that there were threats on both sides, and it was -a common saying that men went armed.</p> - -<p>The judge banged his broad-brimmed Panama -down on the table. “Caleb,” he said grimly, “how -much more packing is there to come out of this?”</p> - -<p>This time Trench laughed. “Not a great deal, -Judge,” he replied easily, “I’ve got most of it out. -We’re going to prove both our cases against Aylett -and Eaton. Aylett’s used more money, but Eaton -has intimidated. The convention was packed. They -threw in Eaton as a third candidate to split Yarnall’s -strength; they knew all the investors in his get-rich-quick -schemes would follow him, and they’d been -warned to do it. I’ve got the evidence. Of course, -when Yarnall got them deadlocked, even with that -break in his strength, Eaton withdrew and, throwing -all his votes suddenly to Aylett, nominated him on -the fifth ballot.”</p> - -<p>The judge scowled at him from under his heavy -brows. “What’s this about the Todd test case?” -he growled.</p> - -<p>“Aaron Todd got hold of one of the delegates and -found out that he’d been offered a bribe by Eaton. -Todd suggested to him to take it and get the matter -witnessed; it was done and will be used in court.”</p> - -<p>“Damned shabby!” said the judge.</p> - -<p>Caleb smiled. “I call it a harder name, Judge,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[165]</span> -he said simply. “I shan’t use it, but, after all, I’m -only the junior counsel.”</p> - -<p>The old man looked at him over his spectacles. “I -understand that Yarnall has picked you out as a kind -of red flag to the bull, and means to wave you in -Eaton’s face.”</p> - -<p>“So he does, I fancy,” said Trench, “but we’re -going to call Judge Hollis.”</p> - -<p>The judge stared; a dull red crept up to his hair. -He had felt the slight when Caleb was chosen, and he -suspected that the younger man knew it. Yet the -temptation to be in the thick of the fray was like the -taste of fine wine in the mouth of the thirsty. “By -gum, sir,” he said, “I don’t believe I’ll do it.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, you will,” said Trench decisively, “we need -you. Besides, Mr. Yarnall has written a formal request -to you: we want influential men on our side. -We’ve got a clear case, but we want the people to -understand that we’re not demagogues. And”—Trench -suddenly used all his persuasive powers, -which were great—“Judge, I lack your experience.”</p> - -<p>It was a touch of modesty that went to the judge’s -heart. He took Diana’s chair—Caleb always called -it that in his heart—and they fell to discussing the -situation and the most salient points in the case, for -it had divided the State and it would affect the election -of the United States Senator later.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, Sammy slept, with his yellow curls -mingling with Shot’s yellow hair; they were boon -companions and no one troubled the child. Once or<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[166]</span> -twice Zeb Bartlett had come, bent on making trouble, -but he had been sent away. Sammy found his new -home wholly desirable; Aunt Charity was even growing -fond of him, and Dr. Cheyney brought him toys. -But between Caleb and himself there was a complete -understanding; the child followed him about as patiently -as did Shot, and as unquestioningly. In some -mysterious way he had grasped the meaning of his -adoption, and he understood the silent, preoccupied -man as well as the dog did. With both it was an instinct -that recognized kindness and protection. Left -to amuse himself from babyhood, Sammy made little -trouble. He would lie on his stomach by the hour -working a toy train of cars to and fro in one spot, and -he had destroyed only one brief which had been left -within his reach.</p> - -<p>Judge Hollis talked for over an hour, going over the -case which was to come up before Judge Ladd in ten -days. He saw that Trench had prepared every inch -of it, and that he was chiefly wanted as a notable -figurehead, yet he was nothing loath to be the figurehead. -When he had fully grasped the evidence, and -saw before him one of the biggest cases on record in -the State courts, he threw back his head like an old -war-horse snuffing the battle afar.</p> - -<p>“By the Lord Harry!” he said, slapping his knee, -“we’ll whip them to kingdom come, Caleb, and shear -the sheep at that!” Then his eye suddenly lighted -on the sleeping child, and his shaggy brows dropped; -he stooped over and looked at him, thrusting out his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[167]</span> -underlip. “Caleb,” he said, “send that brat to St. -Vincent’s.”</p> - -<p>Caleb, who was making notes, looked up. “Why?” -he asked dryly.</p> - -<p>The judge growled. “You’re a tarnation fool!” -he replied. “I’m not asking whose child he is! What -I say is—send him packing.”</p> - -<p>Caleb turned and glanced at the child, and the -judge, watching him, was astonished at the softening -of his face. “Poor little devil,” he said quietly, -“I fancy he’ll stay as long as I do, Judge Hollis. -I’ve had no home, I’ve been in desperate straits, -now I’ve got this roof. That dog was a stray, so is -the child—they’re welcome.”</p> - -<p>The judge was silent for a long while. Then he -drew a pattern on the floor with his cane. “Caleb,” -he said, more kindly, “that kid has raised Cain for -you. Jinny Eaton is blowing the news to the four -winds of heaven, and everybody believes it. You -might as well hang an albatross around your neck. -If you’re not the child’s father—by gum, sir, you -might as well be!”</p> - -<p>Caleb set his teeth hard, and the light came into -his eyes,—the light that some people dreaded. -“Judge,” he said sternly, “I’m accountable to no -man, neither am I a coward. Mrs. Eaton may say -what she pleases; being a woman, she is beyond my -reach.”</p> - -<p>The judge got up and drove his hat down hard on -his head with his favorite gesture, as though he put<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[168]</span> -the lid on to suppress the impending explosion. “By -gum!” he said, and walked out.</p> - -<p>That evening Caleb found Sammy asleep in the old -leather armchair with his yellow head on the arm, -and he snatched him out of it, in spite of Sammy’s -vigorous protests, and put him to bed. He never -thought that Diana’s arms might have held the child -as pitifully, for Diana had a noble heart.</p> - -<p>Then followed the greatest case of disputed nomination -ever contested west of the Mississippi. The -old court-house was packed to its limit, and there were -one or two hardy spirits who climbed the tree outside -and listened through the open windows. Feeling ran -so high when Aaron Todd testified that there was a -column of militia in Townhouse Square. It was hot; -they were cutting oats in the fields and the rye was -nearly ripe, while all the grapes were coloring like -new wine.</p> - -<p>Aylett and Eaton fought step by step, inch by -inch, and the court sat from early morning until -candle-light, yet it was three weeks before it went to -the jury, and they had been twenty-nine days getting -that jury!</p> - -<p>Two brilliant lawyers from the East spoke for -the defense, and Judge Hollis opened for the plaintiff. -It was afternoon; the judge had made an able -if somewhat grandiloquent plea, and the court-house -was so thronged that men stood on the window-sills, -shutting out the view from the trees. Caleb -Trench closed the case for Yarnall, and men, remembering<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[169]</span> -his Cresset speech, had refused to leave the -court-room for dinner, fearful of losing their seats—or -their standing room. Eaton alone left abruptly -when he began to speak.</p> - -<p>Trench had a peculiarly rich voice, low-toned but -singularly clear; he used no gestures, and his attitudes -were always easy and unembarrassed when he -forgot himself in his work. His personality counted, -but it was neither that nor his eloquence which held -the court-room spellbound; it was the force of his -logic, the power to get down to the root of things, to -tear away all illusions and show them the machine -as it had existed for nearly twenty years. Incidentally, -as it seemed to some, he showed them, beyond -all doubt, the fraud and intimidation that had renominated -Governor Aylett.</p> - -<p>The lights were burning in the court-room and -outside in the square when Judge Ladd charged the -jury. Not a man left his place as the jurors filed out, -except Trench. He went to send a message to Aunt -Charity about his two waifs at home, who must not -go supperless. He was still out, and Judge Hollis -sent for him hastily when the jury came back in -twenty minutes. They brought in a verdict of guilty -as indicted; the illegal use of money, corruption in -office, and intimidation were the charges against -Aylett and Eaton and ten others.</p> - -<p>At half-past nine that night the militia had to -charge in the court-house square to disperse the -crowd.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[170]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XVIII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">COLONEL ROYALL and Diana drove into -town in the morning; it was a long drive -from Eshcol, and the road led past Paradise -Ridge. Diana, from her side of the carriage, noticed -the little cabin where Jean Bartlett had died, and -saw the shambling figure of Zeb leaning against the -door-post. Zeb was talking to a well-dressed man -whose back was toward her. A low-growing horse-chestnut -partly hid his figure, but afterwards she -remembered a curious familiarity about it. At the -time her heart was bitter. She had heard nothing -but Mrs. Eaton’s version of the scandal of Paradise -Ridge for a month, and once, when she drove past -the Cross-Roads, she had seen Sammy’s chubby -figure sprawling under the trees beside Caleb Trench’s -office.</p> - -<p>If he were the child’s father, he had certainly taken -up the burden squarely. Diana pushed all thought -of it out of her mind by main force, yet two hours -later it would come back. She remembered, too, -that meeting on the trail, and her heart quaked. In -some mysterious, unfathomable way the man loomed -up before her and mastered her will; she could not -cast him out, and she stormed against him and against<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[171]</span> -herself. Outwardly she was listening to Colonel -Royall. At heart, too, she was deeply concerned -about her father; the colonel was failing, he had been -failing ever since spring set in. All her life Diana -had felt that, in spite of their devotion to each other, -there was a door shut between them, she had never -had his full confidence. Yet, she could not tell -how she knew this, what delicate intuition revealed -the fact of his reticence. She had twice -asked Dr. Cheyney what secret trouble her father -had, and the old man had looked guilty, even when -he denied all knowledge. Diana felt the presence of -grief, and she had assumed that it was especially -poignant at the season when he kept the anniversary -of his wife’s death. Yet, lately, she wondered that -he had never taken her to her mother’s grave. Mrs. -Royall had died when Diana was three years old, -and was buried in Virginia. More than this Diana -had never known, but she did know that her room -at Broad Acres had been locked the day of her death -and that no one ever went there except her father -and the old negro woman who kept it spotless and -“just as Miss Letty left it.”</p> - -<p>Neither Colonel Royall nor old Judy ever vouchsafed -any explanation of this room, its quaintly -beautiful furniture and the apparently unchanging -spotlessness of the muslin curtains and the white -valance of the mahogany four-poster. Once, when -she was a child, Diana had crept in there and hidden -under the bed, but hearing the key turn in the lock<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[172]</span> -when old Judy left the room, her small heart had -quaked with fear and she had remained crouching -in a corner, still under the bed, not daring to look -out lest she should indeed see a beautiful and ghostly -lady seated at the polished toilet-table, or hear her -step upon the floor. She stayed there three hours, -then terror and loneliness prevailed and she fancied -she did hear something; it was, perhaps, the rustle -of wings, for she had been told that angels had wings, -and if her mamma were dead she was, of course, an -angel. The rustle, therefore, of imaginary wings was -more than Diana could bear, and she lifted up her -voice and wept. They had been searching the house -for her, and it was her father who drew her out from -under the bed and carried her, weeping, to the nursery. -Then he spoke briefly but terribly to the mammy in -charge, and Diana never crept under the white valance -again.</p> - -<p>She remembered that scene to-day as the carriage -drove on under the tall shade trees, and she -remembered that Colonel Royall had never looked -so ill at this time of the year since the time when he -was stricken with fever in midsummer, when she was -barely fifteen. Then he had been out of his head for -three days and she had heard him call some one -“Letty!” and then cry out: “God forgive me—there -is the child!” He had been eighteen months -recovering, and she saw presages of illness in his -face; his eyes were resting sadly and absently, too, -on the familiar landscape. Diana winced, again<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[173]</span> -conscious of the shut door. It is hard to wait on at -the threshold of the heart we love.</p> - -<p>They were crossing the bridge when a long silence -was broken. Below them some negroes were chanting -in a flatboat, and their voices were beautiful.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="first">“Away down South in de fields of cotton,</div> -<div class="verse">Cinnamon seed and sandy bottom,</div> -<div class="indent">Look away, look away,</div> -<div class="indent">Look away, look away!”</div> -</div></div> - -<p>“Pa,” said Diana suddenly, “do you believe in -the verdict?”</p> - -<p>The colonel took off his hat and pushed back his -thick white hair. “I reckon I’ve got to, Di,” he -replied reluctantly.</p> - -<p>“Then you think Jacob is a bully and a fraud,” -said Diana, with the unsparing frankness of youth.</p> - -<p>“Heaven forbid!” said the colonel gently.</p> - -<p>“I thought you wanted me to marry him,” she -pursued, victory in her eye.</p> - -<p>The colonel reddened. “Diana,” he said, “I don’t -want you to marry anybody.”</p> - -<p>She smiled. “Thank you,” she said; “after all, -the verdict has done some good in this State, Colonel -Royall.”</p> - -<p>They were at the court-house door now, and there -was a crowd in the square. The colonel got down -and helped out Diana, and they walked into the -arched entrance of the basement together. “I didn’t -want to leave you out there to be stared at by that -mob,” said the colonel; “people seem to know us at -a glance.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[174]</span>Diana laughed softly. “Of course no one would -remember you,” she said maliciously; “they’re looking -at my new hat.”</p> - -<p>“I reckon they are,” said her father dryly; “we’ll -have to find a place to hide it in.”</p> - -<p>As he spoke they passed the last doorkeeper, and -walked down the stone-paved corridor toward the -elevator. It was absolutely still. On the left hand -was a small room with one large window looking out -into the court where a tree of heaven was growing. -It had sprung from a seed and no one had cut it down. -The window was barred, but the cool air of the court -came in, for the sash was open. It was a room that -they called “the cage,” because prisoners waited -there to be summoned to the court-room to hear the -verdict, but Colonel Royall did not know this. There -were a narrow lounge in it, two chairs and a table.</p> - -<p>“Wait here,” he said to Diana, “I shan’t be ten -minutes. I want to see Judge Ladd, and I know -where he is up-stairs. Court has adjourned for -luncheon, and you won’t be disturbed.”</p> - -<p>Diana went in obediently and sat down in the chair -by the window. She could see nothing but the court -enclosed on four sides by the old brick building, and -shaded in the centre by the slender tree of heaven. -There was no possible view of the street from this -room. Opposite the door was the blank wall of the -hall; on the other side of that wall were the rooms -of the Registrar of Wills and the Probate Court. -Outside the door a spiral iron staircase ascended to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[175]</span> -the offices of the State’s attorney; around the corner -was the elevator and to this Colonel Royall went.</p> - -<p>Diana leaned back in her chair and surveyed the -chill little room; on the walls were written various -reflections of waiting prisoners. None were as eloquent -as Sir Walter Raleigh’s message to the world, -but several meant the same thing in less heroic English. -The colonel had been gone ten minutes, and his -daughter was watching the branches of the tree as -they stirred slightly, as if touched by some tremulous -breath, for no wind could reach them here.</p> - -<p>It was then that she heard a quick step in the corridor -and knew it intuitively. She was not surprised -when Caleb Trench stopped involuntarily at the door. -They had scarcely met in two months, but the color -rushed into her face; she seemed to see him again -in the spring woods, though now the hedgerows were -showing goldenrod. Involuntarily, too, she rose -and they stood facing each other. She tried to speak -naturally, but nothing but a platitude came to her lips.</p> - -<p>“I congratulate you,” she said foolishly, “on your -victory.”</p> - -<p>“Miss Royall, I am sorry that everything I do -seems like a personal attack upon your people,” he -replied at once, and he had never appeared to better -advantage; “like the spiteful revenge of a foolish -duellist, a sensational politician. Will you do me -the justice to believe that my position is painful?”</p> - -<p>Diana looked at him and hated herself because her -breath came so short; was she afraid of him? Perish<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[176]</span> -the thought! “I always try to be just,” she began -with dignity, and then finished lamely, “of course -we are a prejudiced people at Eshcol.”</p> - -<p>“You are like people everywhere,” he replied; -“we all have our prejudices. I wish mine were less. -There is one thing I would like to say to you, Miss -Royall—” He stopped abruptly, and raised his -head. Their eyes met, and Diana knew that he was -thinking of Jean Bartlett; she turned crimson.</p> - -<p>There was a long silence.</p> - -<p>“I shall not say it,” he said, and his strong face -saddened. What right had he to thrust his confidence -upon her? “You are waiting for your father?” -he added; “may I not escort you to another room? -This—is not suitable.” He wanted to add that he -was amazed at the colonel for leaving her there; he -did not yet fully understand the old man’s simplicity.</p> - -<p>“I prefer to stay here,” Diana replied, a little -coldly; “my father knows I am here.”</p> - -<p>It was Caleb’s turn to color. “I beg your pardon.” -He stopped again, and then turned and looked out -of the window. “I fear I have lost even your friendship -now,” he said bitterly.</p> - -<p>She did not reply at once; she was trying to discipline -herself, and in the pause both heard the great -clock in the tower strike one.</p> - -<p>“On the contrary, I thank you for offering to find -me a pleasanter place to wait in,” Diana said, with -an effort at lightness. “It is a little dreary, but I’m -sure my father must be coming and—”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[177]</span>She stopped with a little cry of surprise, for there -was suddenly the sharp sound of a pistol shot, followed -instantly by a second. The reports came from -the other side of the hall, and were followed by a -tumult in the street.</p> - -<p>“What can it be?” she cried, in sudden terror for -her father.</p> - -<p>Caleb Trench swung around from the window with -an awakening of every sense that made him seem -a tremendous vital force. He divined a tragedy. -Afterwards the girl remembered his face and was -amazed at the fact that she had obeyed him like a -child.</p> - -<p>“Wait here!” he exclaimed, “your father is safe. -I will see what it is. On no account leave this room -now—promise me!”</p> - -<p>She faltered. “I promise,” she said, and he was -gone.</p> - -<p>It seemed five minutes; it was in reality only ten -seconds since the shots were fired. Meanwhile, there -was a tumult without, the shouting of men and the -rush of many feet. Diana stood still, trembling, -her hands clasped tightly together. Even afar off -the voice of the mob is a fearsome thing.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[178]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XIX</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">MEANWHILE Colonel Royall and Judge Ladd -had been in consultation in the judge’s private -office, behind the court-room.</p> - -<p>Governor Aylett and Jacob Eaton had definitely -decided to appeal the case, and a slight discrepancy -in the stenographer’s notes had made it necessary -for Colonel Royall to review a part of his testimony. -Having disposed of these technicalities, the colonel -found it difficult to depart. He and Judge Ladd had -been boys together; they met infrequently, and the -present situation was interesting.</p> - -<p>The colonel stood with his thumbs inserted in -the armholes of his marseilles waistcoat, his hat -on the back of his head, and a placid smile on his -lips. The judge sat at his table, smoking a huge -cigar and meditating. In his heart he rather resented -the rapid rise of the unknown young lawyer; -he had worked his own way up inch by inch, and -he had no confidence in meteoric performances, and -said so.</p> - -<p>“Well,” said the colonel slowly, “I reckon I’d -better not say anything, Tommy, I’m on the wrong -side of the fence; I’m Jacob’s cousin, though I feel -like his grandfather.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[179]</span>The judge knocked the ashes from his cigar and -said nothing. It was not in his province to discuss -the defendant just then.</p> - -<p>“I’d give something handsome,” the colonel continued, -“to know how in mischief Trench got such -a hold on the backwoodsmen. Todd follows him about -like a lapdog, too, yet he doesn’t hesitate to condemn -Todd’s methods of getting evidence.”</p> - -<p>The judge grunted. “Heard about personal magnetism, -haven’t you?” he asked tartly; “that’s what -he’s got. I sat up there on the bench and listened -when he began to address the jury. I’ve heard hundreds -do it; I know the ropes. Well, sir, he took me -in; I thought he was going to fall flat. He began -as cool and slow and prosy as the worst old drone -we’ve got; then he went on. By George, David, I -was spellbound. I clean forgot where I was; I sat -and gaped like a ninny! He cut right through their -evidence; he knocked their witnesses out one by one; -he tore their logic to pieces, and then he closed. -There wasn’t a shred of ’em left. I charged the -jury? Yes, hang it! But I knew what the verdict -would be, so did every man-jack in the court-room.”</p> - -<p>“Remarkable!” exclaimed the colonel. “I admit -it, Tommy; I was there.”</p> - -<p>“Then why the devil didn’t you say so?” snapped -the judge.</p> - -<p>“Thought you saw me; I was in the front row,” -replied the colonel, with a broad smile.</p> - -<p>“See you?” retorted the judge fiercely, “see you?<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[180]</span> -I didn’t see a damned thing but that young shyster, -and before he got through I could have hugged him, -yes, sir, hugged him for making that speech.”</p> - -<p>The colonel shook with laughter. “Tommy,” he -began.</p> - -<p>But just then there were two sharp reports of a -pistol near at hand, followed by a tumult in the -street below. Both men hurried to the window, but -the jutting wing of the court-room hid the center of -interest, and all they could see was the crowd of -human beings huddled and packed in the narrow -entrance of the alley that led to the Criminal Court-room. -There were confused cries and shoutings, -and almost immediately the gong of the emergency -ambulance.</p> - -<p>“Some one’s been shot,” said Judge Ladd coolly; -then he turned from the window and halted with his -finger on the bell.</p> - -<p>The door from the court-room had opened abruptly -and Judge Hollis came in. Both Ladd and Colonel -Royall faced him in some anxiety; there was an -electric current of excitement in the air.</p> - -<p>“Yarnall has been shot dead,” he said briefly.</p> - -<p>“My God!” exclaimed Judge Ladd.</p> - -<p>Colonel Royall said nothing, but turned white.</p> - -<p>“Have they got the assassin?” the judge demanded, -recovering his self-control.</p> - -<p>“No,” replied Judge Hollis, a singular expression -on his face. “No, the shot was fired from the window -of the court-room; the room was empty, everybody<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[181]</span> -at dinner, and the windows open; the pistol is on the -floor, two chambers empty. Only one man was seen -in the window, a negro, and he has escaped.”</p> - -<p>“A negro?” the judge’s brows came down, “no, -no!” Then he stopped abruptly, and added, after a -moment, “Was he recognized?”</p> - -<p>“They say it was Juniper,” said Judge Hollis -stolidly.</p> - -<p>“Wild nonsense!” exclaimed Colonel Royall.</p> - -<p>Hollis nodded. His hat was planted firmly on his -head and he stood like a rock. “Nevertheless, there’s -wild talk of lynching. Ladd, I think we’d better get -the lieutenant-governor to call out the militia.”</p> - -<p>The storm in the street below rose and fell, like a -hurricane catching its breath. Colonel Royall looked -out of the window; the crowd in the alley had overflowed -into the square, and swollen there to overflow -again in living rivulets into every side street. He -looked down on a living seething mass of human -beings. The sunlight was vivid white; the heat -seemed to palpitate in the square; low guttural cries -came up. The names of Yarnall and Eaton caught -his ear. He remembered suddenly the significance -of Judge Hollis’ glance at him, and he did not need -to remember the blood feud. Suddenly he saw the -crowd give way a little before a file of mounted -police, but it closed again sullenly, gathered the -little group of officers into its bosom and waited.</p> - -<p>The old man had seen many a fierce fight, he had -a scar that he had received at the Battle of the Wilderness,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[182]</span> -he had a gunshot wound at Gettysburg, but he -felt that here was the grimmest of all revelations, the -slipping of the leash, the wild thing escaping from its -cage, the mob! The low fierce hum of anger came -up and filled their ears, he heard the voices behind -him, the rushing feet of incoming messengers, the -news of the lieutenant-governor’s call for the militia. -Then he suddenly remembered Diana, and plunged -abruptly down-stairs.</p> - -<p>She had been waiting all this while alone in the -lower room, yet, before the colonel got there, Caleb -Trench came back. He had just told her what had -happened when her father appeared.</p> - -<p>“My dear child,” said the colonel, “I clean forgot -you!”</p> - -<p>Diana was very pale, but she smiled. “I know -it,” she said, glancing at Caleb. “Once father got -excited at the races at Lexington and when some one -asked him his name, he couldn’t remember it. He -paid a darkey a quarter to go and ask Judge Hollis -who he was! Colonel Royall, I must go home.”</p> - -<p>“So you must,” agreed the colonel, “but, my dear, -the crowd is—er—is rather noisy.”</p> - -<p>“It’s a riot, isn’t it?” asked Diana, listening.</p> - -<p>They heard, even then, the voice of it shake the -still hot air. Then, quite suddenly, a bugle sounded -sweetly, clearly.</p> - -<p>“The militia,” said the colonel, in a tone of relief. -“I reckon we can go home now.”</p> - -<p>“You can go by the back way,” said Caleb quietly;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[183]</span> -“stay here a moment and I’ll see that some one gets -your carriage through the inner gate. The troops -will drive the mob out of the square.”</p> - -<p>He had started to leave the room when Colonel -Royall spoke. “Is—is Yarnall really quite dead?”</p> - -<p>“Killed instantly,” said Caleb, and went out.</p> - -<p>Diana covered her face with her hands; she had -been braving it out before him. “Oh, pa!” she -cried, “how dreadful! I was almost frightened to -death and—and I always thought I was brave.”</p> - -<p>“You are,” said the colonel fondly; “I was a brute -to forget you—but—well, Diana, it was tremendously -shocking.”</p> - -<p>Diana’s face grew whiter. “Pa,” she said suddenly, -“where—where is Jacob?”</p> - -<p>The colonel understood. “God knows!” he said, -“but, Diana, he wasn’t in the court-room!”</p> - -<p>“Oh, thank God!” she said.</p> - -<p>It was then that Caleb came back, and she noticed -how pale he looked and how worn, for the long weeks -of preparation for the trial and the final ordeal had -worn him to the bone. “The carriage is waiting,” he -said simply, and made a movement, slight but definite, -toward Diana. But she had taken her father’s arm. -The colonel thanked the younger man heartily, yet -his manner did not exactly convey an invitation. -Caleb stood aside, therefore, to let them pass. At the -door, Diana stopped her father with a slight pressure -on his arm, and held out her hand.</p> - -<p>“Good-bye,” she said quietly, “and thank you.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[184]</span>Caleb watched them disappear down the corridor -to the rear entrance where two policemen were on -guard. Then he went out, bareheaded, on the front -steps and glanced over the heads of the troopers -sitting like statues on their horses in front of the -court-house. Yarnall’s body had been carried in on -a stretcher, and a detachment of the governor’s -guard filled the main entrance. Beyond the long -files of soldiers the streets were packed with men -and women and even children. No one was speaking -now, no sounds were heard; there was, instead, a -fearful pause, a silence that seemed to Trench more -dreadful than tumult. He stood an instant looking -at the scene, strangely touched by it, strangely moved, -too, at the thought of the strong man who had been -laid low and whose life was snapped at one flash, -one single missile. Death stood there in the open -court.</p> - -<p>Then some one cried out shrilly that there was -Caleb Trench, the counsel for Yarnall, the dead -man’s victorious defender, and at the cry a cheer -went up, deep-throated, fierce, a signal for riot. The -silence was gone; the crowd broke, rushed forward, -hurled itself against the line of fixed bayonets, crying -for the assassin.</p> - -<p>A bugle sounded again. There was a long wavering -flash of steel, as the troopers charged amid cries and -threats and flying missiles. A moment of pandemonium -and again the masses fell away and the -cordon of steel closed in about the square.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[185]</span>At the first sound of his name Caleb Trench had -gone back into the court-house. On the main staircase -he saw Governor Aylett, Jacob Eaton and a -group of lawyers and officers of the militia. He -passed them silently and went up-stairs. Outside -the court-room door was a guard of police. The door -of Judge Ladd’s inner office was open and he saw that -it was crowded with attorneys and officials. Judge -Hollis came out and laid his hand on Caleb’s shoulder.</p> - -<p>“My boy,” he said, “this is the worst day’s work -that has ever been done here, and they want to lay -it on a poor nigger.”</p> - -<p>“I know,” replied Caleb, “he was the only one seen -at the window.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” assented Judge Hollis, “but, by the Lord -Harry, I’d give something handsome to know—who -was behind Juniper!”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[186]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XX</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">IT was almost morning when Caleb Trench reached -home, and the low building where he had his -office—he had closed his shop a month before—was -dark and cheerless.</p> - -<p>The news of the shooting of Yarnall, and the subsequent -rioting, had traveled and multiplied like a -reed blown upon the winds of heaven. Aunt Charity -had heard it and forgotten her charge. Shot was on -guard before the dead ashes in the kitchen stove, and -Sammy lay asleep in his little bed in the adjoining -room. Fortunately the child seemed to have slept -through the hours that had elapsed since the old -woman’s departure. Caleb found some cold supper -set out for him, in a cheerless fashion, and shared it -with Shot, strangely beset, all the while, with the -thought of the charm and comfort of Broad Acres, as -it had been revealed to him in his infrequent visits.</p> - -<p>Diana’s presence in the basement of the court-house -had changed his day for him, and he recalled -every expression of her charming face, the swift shyness -of her glance, when his own must have been too -eloquent, and every gesture and movement during -their interview. At the same time he reflected that -nothing could have been more unusual than her presence<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[187]</span> -there in the prisoner’s cage, as it was called, and -he was aware of a feeling of relief that no one had -found them there together at a time when his smallest -action was likely to be a matter of common public -interest.</p> - -<p>But predominant, even over these thoughts, was -the new aspect of affairs. Yarnall was dead, and as a -factor in the gubernatorial fight he was personally -removed, but his tragic death was likely to be as -potent as his presence. He had already proved to -the satisfaction of one jury that his defeat in the convention -was due solely to Aylett’s fraud and to Eaton’s -hatred, and it was improbable that, even in a violently -partisan community, justice should not be -done at last. Besides, the frightful manner of his -taking off called aloud for expiation. The tumult at -the court-house testified to the passions that were -stirred; the old feud between the Eatons and the -Yarnalls awoke, and men remembered, and related, -how Yarnall’s father had shot Jacob Eaton’s father. -A shiver of apprehension ran through the herded -humanity in squares and alleys; superstition stirred. -Was this the requital? The old doctrine, an eye for -an eye, a tooth for a tooth,—how it still appeals to -the savage in men’s blood. The crowd pressed in -around the court-house where Yarnall’s body lay in -state, and outside, in a stiff cordon, stood sentries; -the setting sun flashed upon their bayonets as the -long tense day wore to its close.</p> - -<p>In the court-house Caleb Trench had worked tediously<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[188]</span> -through the evening with Judge Ladd and Judge -Hollis. A thousand matters came up, a thousand -details had to be disposed of, and when he returned -home at midnight he was too exhausted physically -and mentally to grapple long with a problem at once -tiresome and apparently insoluble. He dispatched -his supper, therefore, and putting out the light went -to his own room. But, before he could undress, Shot -uttered a sharp warning bark, and Caleb went back -to the kitchen carrying a light, for the dog was perfectly -trained and not given to false alarms.</p> - -<p>His master found him with his nose to the crack of -the outer door, and the slow but friendly movement -of his tail that announced an acquaintance. At the -same time there was a low knock at the door.</p> - -<p>“Who is there?” Caleb demanded, setting his -light on the table and, at the same time, preparing to -unfasten the lock.</p> - -<p>“Fo’ de Lawd, Marse Trench, let me in!” cried a -muffled voice from the outside, and, as Caleb opened -the door, Juniper nearly fell across the room.</p> - -<p>“Shet de doah, massa,” he cried, “lock it; dey’s -after me!”</p> - -<p>It was intensely dark, being just about half an -hour before dawn, and the scent of morning was in the -air. It seemed to Caleb, as he glanced out, that the -darkness had a softly dense effect, almost as if it -actually had a substance; he could not see ten yards -from the threshold and the silence was ominous. He -shut the door and locked it and drew down the shade<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[189]</span> -over the kitchen window; afterwards he remembered -this and wondered if it were some impulse of secretiveness -that prompted a movement that he had not -considered.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Juniper had fallen together in a miserable -huddled heap by the stove. His head was -buried in his arms and he was sobbing in terror, -long-drawn shivering sobs that seemed to tear his -very heart out. Trench stood looking at him, knowing -fully what suspicions were against the black, and the -terrible threats that had filled the town, seething -as it was with excitement and a natural hatred of -the race. That Juniper had plotted Yarnall’s death -was an absurdity to Trench’s mind; that he might -have been the tool of another was barely possible. -On the other hand, his chances of justice from the -mob were too small to be considered. His very presence -under any man’s roof was a danger as poignant -as pestilence. This last thought, however, had no -weight with Caleb Trench. The stray dog guarded -his hearth, the nameless child lay asleep in the next -room, and now the hunted negro cowered before him. -It was characteristic of the man that the personal -side of it, the interpretation that might be put upon -his conduct, never entered his calculations. Instead, -he looked long and sternly at the negro.</p> - -<p>“Juniper,” he said, “you were the only person -seen in the window of the court-house before -the assassination of Mr. Yarnall. Were you alone -there?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[190]</span>Juniper cowered lower in his seat. “Fo’ de Lawd, -Marse Trench, I can’t tell you!” he sobbed.</p> - -<p>“Who was in the room with you?” asked Trench -sharply.</p> - -<p>“I can’t tell!” the negro whimpered; “I don’ -know.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, you do,” said Caleb, “and you will be forced -to tell it in court. Probably, before you go to court, -if the people catch you,” he added cold-bloodedly.</p> - -<p>Juniper fell on his knees; it seemed as if his face -had turned lead color instead of brown, and his teeth -chattered. “Dey’s gwine ter lynch me!” he sobbed, -“an’ fo’ de Lawd, massa, I ain’t done it!”</p> - -<p>Caleb looked at him unmoved. “If you know -who did it, and do not tell, you are what they -call in law an accessory after the fact, and you can be -punished.”</p> - -<p>Juniper shook from head to foot. “Marse Caleb,” -he said, with sudden solemnity, “de Lawd made us -both, de white an’ de black, I ain’t gwine ter b’lieb -dat He’ll ferget me bekase I’se black! I ain’t murdered -no one.”</p> - -<p>Caleb regarded him in silence; the force and eloquence -of Juniper’s simple plea carried its own conviction. -Yet, he knew that the negro could name -the murderer and was afraid to. There was a tense -moment, then far off a sound, awful in the darkness -of early morning,—the swift galloping of horses on -the hard highroad.</p> - -<p>“Dey’s comin’,” said Juniper in a dry whisper, his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[191]</span> -lips twisting; “dey’s comin’ ter kill me—de Lawd -hab mercy on my soul!”</p> - -<p>Nearer drew the sound of horses’ feet, nearer the -swift and awful death. Caleb Trench blew out his -light; through the window crevices showed faint -gray streaks. Shot was standing up now, growling. -Caleb sent him into the room with little Sammy, and -shut the door on them. Then he took the almost -senseless negro by the collar and dragged him to the -stairs.</p> - -<p>“Go up!” he ordered sternly; “go to the attic -and drag up the ladder after you.”</p> - -<p>Juniper clung to him. “Save me!” he sobbed, “I -ain’t dun it; I ain’t murdered him!”</p> - -<p>“Go!” ordered Caleb sharply.</p> - -<p>Already there was a summons at his door, and he -heard the trample of the horses. Juniper went crawling -up the stairs and disappeared into the darkness -above. Caleb went to his desk and took down the -telephone receiver, got a reply and sent a brief message; -then he quietly put his pistol in his pocket and -went deliberately to the front door and threw it open. -As he did it some one cut the telephone connection, -but it was too late. In the brief interval since he had -admitted the fugitive, day had dawned in the far -East, and the first light seemed to touch the world -with the whiteness of wood ashes; even the cottonwoods -showed weirdly across the road. All around -the house were mounted men, and nearly every man -wore a black mask. The sight was gruesome, but it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[192]</span> -stirred something like wrath in Caleb’s heart; how -many men were here to murder one poor frightened -creature, with the intellect of a child and the soul of -a savage!</p> - -<p>Caleb’s large figure seemed to fill the door, as he -stood with folded arms and looked out into the gray -morning, unmoved as he would look some day into -the Valley of the Shadow. Of physical cowardice he -knew nothing, of moral weakness still less; he had -the heroic obstinacy of an isolated soul. It cost him -nothing to be courageous, because he had never known -fear. Unconsciously, he was a born fighter; the scent -of battle was breath to his nostrils. He looked over -the masked faces with kindling eyes; here and there -he recognized a man and named him, to the mask’s -infinite dismay.</p> - -<p>“Your visit is a little early, gentlemen,” he said -quietly, “but I am at home.”</p> - -<p>“Look here, Trench, we want that nigger!” they -yelled back.</p> - -<p>“You mean Juniper?” said Caleb coolly. “Well, -you won’t get him from me.”</p> - -<p>“We know he’s about here!” was the angry retort, -“and we’ll have him, d’ye hear?”</p> - -<p>“I hear,” said Caleb, slipping his hand into his -pocket. “You can search the woods; there are about -three miles of them behind me, besides the highroad -to Paradise Ridge.”</p> - -<p>“We’re going to search your house,” replied the -leader; “that’s what we’re going to do.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[193]</span>“Are you?” said Caleb, in his usual tone, his eyes -traveling over their heads, through the ghostly outlines -of the cottonwoods, past the tallest pine to the -brightening eastern sky.</p> - -<p>Something in his aspect, something which is always -present in supreme courage,—that impalpable but -strenuous thing which quells the hearts of men before -a leader,—quenched their fury.</p> - -<p>“Look here, Caleb Trench, you were Yarnall’s lawyer; -you ain’t in the damned Eaton mess. Where’s -that Eaton nigger?”</p> - -<p>Caleb’s hand closed on the handle of his revolver in -his pocket. “Gentlemen,” he said quietly, “I happen to -know that the negro, Juniper, did not shoot Mr. Yarnall, -and if I know where he is now I will not tell you.”</p> - -<p>“By God, you shall!” yelled the nearest rioter, -swinging forward with uplifted fist.</p> - -<p>He swung almost on the muzzle of Caleb’s revolver.</p> - -<p>“One step farther and you’re a dead man,” Trench -said.</p> - -<p>The would-be lyncher lurched backward. In the -white light of dawn Caleb’s gaunt figure loomed, his -stern face showed its harshest lines, and there was -fire in his eyes. A stone flew and struck him a little -below the shoulder, another rattled on the shingles -beside the door; there was a low ominous roar from -the mob; right and left men were dismounting, -and horses plunged and neighed.</p> - -<p>“Give up that damned nigger or die yourself!” -was the cry, taken up and echoed.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[194]</span>Within the house Shot began to bark furiously, and -there was suddenly the shrill crying of a child.</p> - -<p>“Jean Bartlett!” some one shouted.</p> - -<p>“Ay, let’s hang him, too—for her sake!”</p> - -<p>There were cheers and hisses. Caleb neither moved -nor shut the door.</p> - -<p>“Give us that nigger!” they howled, crowding -up.</p> - -<p>By a miracle, as it seemed, he had kept them about -three yards from the entrance in a semicircle, and here -they thronged now. From the first they had surrounded -the house, and the possibility of an entrance -being forced in the rear flashed upon Caleb. But he -counted a little on the curiosity that kept them hanging -on his movements, watching the leaders. He saw -at a glance that there was no real organization, that a -motley crowd had fallen in with the one popular idea -of lynching the negro offender, and that a breath of -real fear would dissolve them like the mists which -were rolling along the river bottoms.</p> - -<p>“Where’s that nigger?” came the cry again, and -then: “It’s time you remembered Jean Bartlett!”</p> - -<p>One of the leaders, a big man whom Caleb failed to -recognize, was still mounted. He rose in his stirrups. -“Hell!” he said, “he’s got the child; if he hadn’t, -I’d burn him out.”</p> - -<p>“Gentlemen,” said Caleb coolly, raising his hand to -command attention, “I will give the child to your -leader’s care if you wish to fire my house. I do not -want to be protected by the boy, nor by any false impression<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[195]</span> -that I am expiating an offense against Jean -Bartlett.”</p> - -<p>There was a moment of silence again, then a solitary -cheer amid a storm of hisses. A tumult of shoutings -and blasphemies drowned all coherent speech. -Men struggled forward and stopped speechless, staring -at the unmoved figure in the door, and the grim -muzzle of his six-shooter. It was full day now, and -murder and riot by daylight are tremendous things; -they make the soul of the coward quake. There -were men here and there in the crowd who shivered, -and some never forgot it until their dying day.</p> - -<p>“Give us the nigger!”</p> - -<p>Caleb made no reply; his finger was on the trigger. -There was a wild shout and, as they broke and rushed, -Caleb fired. One man went down, another fell back, -the mob closed in, pandemonium reigned. Then there -was a warning cry from the rear, the clear note of a -bugle, the thunder of more horses’ hoofs, the flash of -bayonets, and a file of troopers charged down the long -lane; there was a volley, a flash of fire and smoke. -Men mounted and rode for life, and others fell beneath -the clubbed bayonets into the trampled dust.</p> - -<p>In the doorway Caleb Trench stood, white and -disheveled, with blood on his forehead, but still -unharmed.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[196]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XXI</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">COLONEL ROYALL was reading an extra edition -of the morning paper; it contained a full -account of the attempted lynching, and the -timely arrival of the militia. The colonel was smoking -a big cigar and the lines of his face were more -placid than they had been for a week, but his brow -clouded a little as he looked down the broad driveway -and saw Jacob Eaton approaching. Jacob, of -late, had been somewhat in the nature of a stormy -petrel. Nor did the colonel feel unlimited confidence -in the younger man’s judgment; he was beginning to -feel uneasy about certain large transactions which he -had trusted to Jacob’s management.</p> - -<p>The situation, however, was uppermost in the -colonel’s mind? He dropped the paper across his -knee and knocked the ashes out of his cigar. Jacob’s -smooth good looks had never been more apparent -and he was dressed with his usual elaborate care. -Nothing could have sat on him more lightly than the -recent verdict, and the fact that he was out on bail. -Colonel Royall, who was mortified by it, looked at -him with a feeling of exasperation.</p> - -<p>“Been in town?” he asked, after the exchange of -greetings, as Jacob ascended the piazza steps.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[197]</span>“All the morning,” he replied, sitting down on the -low balustrade and regarding the colonel from under -heavy eyelids.</p> - -<p>“How is it? Quiet?” The colonel was always -sneakingly conscious of a despicable feeling of panic -when Jacob regarded him with that drooping but -stony stare.</p> - -<p>“Militia is still out,” said Jacob calmly, “and if -the disturbances continue the governor threatens to -call on Colonel Ross for a company of regulars.”</p> - -<p>“He’s nervous,” commented the colonel reflectively. -“I don’t wonder. How in the mischief did -Aylett happen to be near Yarnall?”</p> - -<p>Jacob looked pensive. “I don’t know,” he said; -“I was in the rear corridor by the State’s Attorney’s -room. They say Aylett was crossing the quadrangle -just in front of Yarnall.”</p> - -<p>The colonel smoked for a few moments in silence, -then he took his cigar from between his teeth. “What -were you doing in the corridor?” he asked pointedly.</p> - -<p>Jacob took a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. -“I was going to Colonel Coad’s office, and I was the -first to try to locate the shots outside the court-house.”</p> - -<p>“I was in Judge Ladd’s room,” said Colonel Royall -deliberately, “and I reckon that was as near as I want -to be. I see by this”—he touched the paper with -his finger—“that Caleb Trench induced Juniper to -surrender to the authorities, and he says that he’s -sure he can prove the negro’s innocence.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[198]</span>Jacob laughed, showing his teeth unpleasantly. -“Probably he can,” he remarked; “he’s under -arrest himself.”</p> - -<p>The colonel swung around in his chair. “Caleb -Trench? What for?”</p> - -<p>“For the assassination of Yarnall.”</p> - -<p>“By gum!” said the colonel in honest wrath, -“what rotten nonsense!”</p> - -<p>Jacob said nothing; he continued to smoke his -cigarette.</p> - -<p>The colonel slapped the paper down on his knee. -“When men’s blood is heated, they run wild,” he -said. “Why, Trench was Yarnall’s counsel; he’d -won the case for him—he—”</p> - -<p>“Just so,” replied Jacob coolly; “you forget that -Aylett had insulted Trench twice in court, that he -despised him as heartily as I do and that Aylett was -almost beside Yarnall!”</p> - -<p>The colonel pushed his hat back on his head and -thought. He knew that Eaton hated Trench, but his -mind did not embrace the enormity of a hatred that -could revel in such an accusation. “The charge -then must be that he meant to hit Aylett,” he -said, after a long moment, “and that makes him -take big risks. These Yankees aren’t good shots, -half of ’em.”</p> - -<p>Jacob laughed unpleasantly. “Well, I reckon he -wasn’t,” he remarked, and as his thoughts went -back to a certain gray morning in Little Neck Meadow, -his face reddened.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[199]</span>The colonel wriggled uncomfortably in his chair. -“What did he want to shoot Aylett for?” he -demanded.</p> - -<p>“You’ve forgotten, I suppose, that Aylett called -him a liar twice in court,” said Jacob dryly.</p> - -<p>“He didn’t shoot you for a greater provocation,” -retorted the colonel bluntly.</p> - -<p>“He was the only man found in the court-room -with the smoking weapon,” said Jacob. “Juniper -ran away, and he’s been protecting Juniper,—buying -him off from testifying, I reckon.”</p> - -<p>“I can’t understand why either he or Juniper was -in the court-room,” declared the colonel, frowning.</p> - -<p>“Had good reason to be,” replied Jacob tartly, -tossing his cigarette over the rail.</p> - -<p>“See here, Jacob,” said the colonel solemnly, “I’m -an old man and your relation, and I feel free to give -you advice. You keep your oar out of it.”</p> - -<p>Jacob laughed. “I’ve got to testify,” he drawled.</p> - -<p>“Good Lord!” exclaimed the colonel.</p> - -<p>Then followed several moments of intense silence.</p> - -<p>“Where’s Diana?” asked the young man at last, -rising and flipping some ashes off his coat.</p> - -<p>“In the flower garden,” replied her father thoughtfully, -“she’s seeing to some plants for winter; I -reckon she won’t want you around.”</p> - -<p>Jacob looked more agreeable. “I think I’ll go all -the same,” he said, strolling away.</p> - -<p>The colonel leaned forward in his chair and called -after him. “Jacob, how about these stocks? I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[200]</span> -wanted to sell out at eight and three quarter -cents.”</p> - -<p>Eaton paused reluctantly, his hands in his pockets. -“You can next week,” he said; “the market’s -slumped this. You’d better let me handle that deal -right through, Cousin David.”</p> - -<p>“You’ve been doing it straight along,” said the -colonel. “I reckon I’d better wake up and remember -that I used to know something. I’m equal to -strong meats yet, Jacob, and you’ve been putting -me on pap.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, it’s all right!” said Jacob. “I’ll sell the -shares out for you,” and he departed.</p> - -<p>The colonel sat watching him. The old thought -that he would probably marry Diana no longer had -any attractions for him; he had lost confidence in -Jacob’s sleek complacence, and the recent testimony -in court had shaken it still more. Besides, he had a -fine pride of family, and the verdict against Jacob -had irritated and mortified him. Nothing was too -good for Diana, and the fact that there was the shadow -of a great sorrow upon her made her even dearer to -her father. He had never thought that she had more -than a passing fancy for Jacob, and lately he had -suspected that she disliked him. The colonel ruminated, -strumming on the piazza balustrade with absent -fingers. Before him the long slope of the lawn -was still as green as summer, but the horse-chestnut -burs were open and the glossy nuts fell with every -light breeze. Across the road a single gum tree waved -a branch of flame.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[201]</span>He was still sitting there when Kingdom-Come -brought out a mint julep and arranged it on the table -at his elbow.</p> - -<p>The colonel glanced up, conscious that the negro -lingered. “What’s the matter, King?” he asked -good-humoredly.</p> - -<p>“News from town, suh,” the black replied, flicking -some dust off the table with his napkin. “Dey’s -tried ter storm de jail, suh. De militia charged, an’ -deyer’s been right smart shootin’.”</p> - -<p>Colonel Royall looked out apprehensively over the -slope to the south which showed in the distance the -spires and roofs of the city. A blue fog of smoke -hung low over it and the horizon beyond had the -haze of autumn. “Bad news,” said he, shaking his -head.</p> - -<p>“It suttinly am, suh,” agreed Kingdom-Come, -“an’ dey do say dat Aunt Charity ez gwine ter leave -Juniper now fo’ sho.”</p> - -<p>“She’s left him at intervals for forty years,” said -the colonel, tasting his julep; “I reckon he can stand -it, King.”</p> - -<p>The negro grinned. “I reckon so, suh,” he assented. -“Juniper dun said once dat he’d gib her her -fare ef she’d go by rail an’ stay away!”</p> - -<p>Just then Miss Kitty Broughton stopped her pony -cart at the gate and came across the lawn. The -colonel rose ceremoniously and greeted her, hat in -hand.</p> - -<p>“Where’s Diana?” Kitty asked eagerly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[202]</span>“In the rose garden with Jacob, my dear,” said the -colonel.</p> - -<p>Kitty made a grimace. “<i>Noblesse oblige</i>,” she said; -“I suppose I must stay here. Colonel, isn’t it all -dreadful? Grandfather can’t keep from swearing, -he isn’t respectable, and Aunt Sally has Sammy.” -Kitty blushed suddenly. “I took Shot, the dog, you -know; they won’t let Mr. Trench have bail.”</p> - -<p>“It’s the most inexplicable thing I know of,” said -the colonel, stroking his white moustache. “Why -Caleb Trench should shoot his own client—”</p> - -<p>Kitty stared. “Why, Colonel, you know, don’t -you, that the arrest was made on Jacob Eaton’s -affidavit?”</p> - -<p>Colonel Royall leaned back in his chair, and Kitty -found his expression inexplicable. “How long have -you known this?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Since morning,” said Kitty promptly. “Grandpa -told us; he’s furious, but he says it’s a good case. -It seems Mr. Eaton saw Mr. Trench first in the court-room. -The two shots were fired, you know, in quick -succession. Juniper was seen by some one at the -window just before; no one saw who fired the shots, -but Mr. Eaton met Caleb Trench leaving the room. -No one else was there, and Mr. Trench says that -Juniper did not fire the shots. Juniper is half dead -with fright, and in the jail hospital; he went out -of his head this morning when the mob tried to rush -the jail. It’s awful; they say six people were killed -and three wounded.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[203]</span>“Caleb Trench wounded two last night,” said the -colonel. He had the air of a man in a dream.</p> - -<p>“They won’t die,” replied Kitty, cold-bloodedly, -“and it’s a good thing to stop these lynchers. Wasn’t -Mr. Trench grand? I’m dying to go and see him and -tell him how I admired the account of him facing the -mob. What does Di think?”</p> - -<p>“She hasn’t said,” replied the colonel, suddenly -remembering that Diana’s silence was unusual. He -looked apprehensively toward the rose garden and -saw the flutter of a white dress through an opening -in the box hedge. “Kitty,” he added abruptly, -“you go over there and see Diana and ask her -yourself.”</p> - -<p>“While Mr. Eaton’s there?” Kitty giggled. “I -couldn’t, Colonel Royall; he’d hate me.”</p> - -<p>The colonel looked reflectively at the young girl -sitting in the big chair opposite. She was very pretty -and her smile was charming. “I don’t think he’d -hate you, my dear,” he remarked dryly, “and I know -Diana wants to see you.”</p> - -<p>Kitty hesitated. “I don’t like to interrupt,” she -demurred.</p> - -<p>“You won’t,” said the colonel, a little viciously.</p> - -<p>Kitty rose and descended the steps to the lawn, -nothing loath; then she stopped and looked over her -shoulder. “Mr. Trench will be tried immediately,” -she said; “the Grand Jury indicted him this morning.”</p> - -<p>The colonel’s frown of perplexity deepened. “I -call it indecent haste,” he said.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[204]</span>“Grandpa is to defend him,” said Kitty, “and -we’re proud of him. I think Caleb Trench is a real -hero, Colonel Royall.”</p> - -<p>The colonel sighed. “I wish Jacob was,” he -thought, but he did not speak.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[205]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XXII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">JUDGE HOLLIS was writing in his office. He -had been writing five hours and the green shade -of his lamp was awry, while his briar-wood had -just gone out for the ninety-ninth time. Some one -knocked twice on the outer door before he noticed it. -Then he shouted: “Come in!”</p> - -<p>After some fumbling with the lock the door opened, -and Zeb Bartlett’s shambling figure lurched into the -room. He came in boldly, but cowered as he met the -judge’s fierce expression. The old man swung around -in his chair and faced him, his great overhanging -brows drawn together over glowing eyes, and his lip -thrust out.</p> - -<p>The boy was stricken speechless, and stood hat in -hand, feebly rubbing the back of his head. The judge, -who hated interruption and loathed incompetence, -scowled. “What d’ye want here?” he demanded.</p> - -<p>Zeb wet his parched lips with his tongue. “I -want the law on him,” he mumbled; “I want the -law on him!”</p> - -<p>“What in thunder are you mumbling about?” -demanded the old man impatiently; “some one stole -your wits?”</p> - -<p>“It was him did my sister wrong,” Zeb said, his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[206]</span> -tongue loosed between fear and hate; “it’s him, and -I want him punished—now they’ve got him!”</p> - -<p>Judge Hollis threw the pen that he had been holding -suspended into the ink-well. “See here, Zeb,” -he said, “if you can tell us who ruined your poor -crazed sister, why, by the Lord Harry, I’d like to -punish him!”</p> - -<p>Zeb looked cunning; he edged nearer to the desk. -“I can tell you,” he said, “I can tell you right cl’ar -off, but—I want him punished!”</p> - -<p>“May be the worst we can do is to make him take -care of the child,” said Judge Hollis.</p> - -<p>“That won’t do,” said Zeb, “that ain’t enough; -he left her to starve, and me to starve—she tole me -who it was!”</p> - -<p>Judge Hollis was not without curiosity, but he -restrained it manfully. He even took his paper-cutter -and folded the paper before him in little plaits. -“Zeb,” he said, “it’s a rotten business, but the girl’s -dead and Caleb Trench has taken the child and—”</p> - -<p>“It’s him, curse him, it’s him!” Zeb cried, shaking -his fist.</p> - -<p>Judge Hollis dropped the paper-cutter and rose -from his chair, his great figure, in the long dark blue -coat, towering.</p> - -<p>“How dare you say that?” he demanded, “you -cur—you skunk!”</p> - -<p>But Zeb was ugly; he set his teeth, and his crazy -eyes flashed. “I tell you it’s him,” he cried; “ain’t -I said she tole me?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[207]</span>“Damn you, I don’t believe you,” the judge -shouted; “it’s money you want, money!” He -grabbed the shaking boy by the nape of the neck, as -a dog takes a rat, and shook him. “You clear out,” -he raged, “and you keep your damned lying, dirty -tongue still!” and flung him out and locked the -door.</p> - -<p>Then, panting slightly, he went back to his seat, -swung it to his desk again, rolled back his cuffs and -wiped the perspiration from his forehead. Then he -pulled his pen out of the ink-well and shook the surplus -ink over the floor and began to write; he wrote -two pages and dropped his pen. His head sank, his -big shoulders bowed over, he was lost in thought. -He thought there for an hour, while nothing stirred -except the mouse that was gnawing his old law-books -and had persistently evaded Miss Sarah’s -vigilance. Then the judge brought his great fist -down on his desk, and the ink-well danced, and the -pen rolled off.</p> - -<p>“My God!” he exclaimed to himself, “I’ve loved -him like a son, the girl was treated like hell—it -can’t be true!”</p> - -<p>He rose, jammed his hat down on his head and -walked out; he walked the streets for hours.</p> - -<p>It was very late when he was admitted to the old -jail. It was past time to admit visitors, but the -judge was a privileged person. The warden gave -up his private room to him and sent for the prisoner. -The lamp burnt low on the desk, and the old judge<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[208]</span> -sat before it, heavy with thought. He looked up -mechanically when Caleb came in with his quick -firm step and faced him. The two greeted each other -without words, and Caleb sat down, waiting. He -knew his visitor had something on his mind.</p> - -<p>Judge Hollis looked at him, studying him, studying -the clear-cut lines, the hollowed cheeks, the -clear gray eyes, the chiseled lips,—not a handsome -face, but one of power. The sordid wretchedness of -the story, like a foul weed springing up to choke a -useful plant, struck him again with force and disgust.</p> - -<p>“I’ve just seen Zeb Bartlett,” he said; “he’s -raving to punish the man who wronged his sister. -He says you did it!” The old man glared fiercely -at the young one.</p> - -<p>Caleb’s expression was slightly weary, distinctly -disappointed: he had hoped for something of importance. -The story of Jean Bartlett was utterly -unimportant in his life. “I know it,” he said briefly; -“it is easy to accuse, more difficult to prove the -truth.”</p> - -<p>The judge leaned forward, his clasped hands hanging -between his knees, his head lowered. “Caleb,” -he said, “maybe it’s not right to ask you, but, between -man and man, I’d like to know God’s truth.”</p> - -<p>Caleb Trench returned the old man’s look calmly. -“Judge,” he said, “have you ever known me to -steal?”</p> - -<p>The judge shook his head.</p> - -<p>“Or to lie?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[209]</span>Again the judge dissented.</p> - -<p>“Then why do you accuse me in your heart of -wronging a half-witted girl?” he asked coldly.</p> - -<p>The judge rose from his chair and walked twice -across the room; then he stopped in front of the -younger man. “Caleb,” he said, “by the Lord -Harry, I’m plumb ashamed to ask you to forgive -me.”</p> - -<p>Caleb smiled a little sadly. “Judge,” he said, -“there’s nothing to forgive. Without your friendship -I should have been a lost man. I understand. -Slander has a hundred tongues.”</p> - -<p>“Zeb Bartlett is shouting the accusation to the -four winds of heaven, I presume,” said the judge, -“and there’s the child—you—”</p> - -<p>“I’ve taken him,” said Caleb, “and I mean to -keep him. I’ve known poverty, I’ve known homelessness, -I’ve known slander; the kid has got to face -it all, and he won’t do it without one friend.”</p> - -<p>The judge looked at him a long time, then he went -over and clapped his hand down on his shoulder. -“By the Lord Harry!” he said, “you’re a man, and -I respect you. Let them talk—to the devil!”</p> - -<p>“Amen!” said Caleb Trench.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[210]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XXIII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">WHEN the case of the Commonwealth versus -Caleb Trench was called, it was found -necessary to convene the court in the -old criminal court-room in the northeast corner of the -quadrangle. The room from which Yarnall had -been shot, known as Criminal Court Number One, -was too open to the square, and too conveniently -located as a storm center. The old court-room facing -northeast was smaller, and so poorly lighted that -dull mornings it was necessary to burn lights on the -judge’s desk and at the recorder’s table. It opened -on the inner court, and the only thing seen from the -window was the tree of heaven, which was turning -a dingy yellow and dropping its frond-like leaves -into the court below. During half the trial Aaron -Todd’s son and another youngster sat in this tree -and peered in the windows, the room being too -crowded for admittance; but when Miss Royall -testified even the windows were so stuffed with -humanity that the two in the tree saw nothing, and -roosted in disappointment.</p> - -<p>In the quadrangle before the court-house, and in -a hollow square around it, were the troops, through<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[211]</span> -the whole trial, and after a while one got used to the -rattle of their guns as they changed at noon. Men -fought for places in the court-room, and the whole -left-hand side was packed solid with young and -pretty women. The figure of Caleb Trench, since -his famous Cresset speech, had loomed large on the -horizon, and the account of the frustrated lynching -added a thrilling touch of romance. Besides, Jacob -Eaton was to testify against him, and that alone -would have drawn an audience. The thrill of danger, -the clash of the sentry’s rifle in the quadrangle, the -constant dread of riots, added a piquancy to the -situation that was like a dash of fine old wine in a -<i>ragout</i>. The room was packed to suffocation, and -reporters for distant newspapers crowded the reporters’ -table, for the case was likely to be of national -interest. The doors and the corridors were thronged, -and a long line waited admission on the staircase. -Some failed to get in the first or the second day, and -being desperate stayed all night outside, and so were -admitted on the third day.</p> - -<p>Judge Hollis had charge of the defense, and it -was expected that he would ask a change of venue, -but he did not. Instead he tried to get a jury, using -all his privileges to challenge. It was almost impossible -to get an unbiased juror and, at the end of -a week, he had exhausted two panels and was on -another. On the fifteenth day he got a jury and -the public drew breath. Judge Ladd was on the -bench,—a fair but choleric man, and known to be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[212]</span> -rather unfavorable to the prisoner. Bail had been -absolutely refused, and Caleb Trench shared the -fate of the other prisoners in the jail, except, indeed, -that he was doubly watched, for the tide of men’s -passions rose and fell. He had been almost a popular -idol; he was, therefore, doubly likely to be a -popular victim, and Aylett went far and wide declaring -that he believed the shot was intended for -him, and that Yarnall had suddenly passed between -him and the window at the fateful moment.</p> - -<p>On the other hand Jacob Eaton spoke freely of -Jean Bartlett and her child. The scandal traveled -like a fire in prairie grass, and Jean, who had been -in life the Shameful Thing of Paradise Ridge, became -now a persecuted martyr, and Trench the monster -who had ruined her life. The fact that he had taken -the child, instead of being in his favor, recoiled -strongly against him. He was watched as he sat in -the prisoners’ dock, and every expression of his stern -and homely face was noted; the slight awkwardness -of his tall figure seemed more visible, and men were -even startled by his eyes. It may be added that the -women found them most interesting, especially when -that sudden light flashed into them that had cowed -so many of the weaker brethren. Like all strong, -blunt men, Caleb had made his enemies, and now, -in the hour of his need, they multiplied like flies. -Misfortune breeds such insects as readily as swamplands -breed mosquitoes.</p> - -<p>“I’d be ashamed to say I knew that shyster,” one<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[213]</span> -of the Eaton faction said in the crowded court-room -at noon recess, and Dr. Cheyney heard him.</p> - -<p>The old man snorted. “I’m almighty glad he don’t -know you,” he said dryly.</p> - -<p>The next day they began to take testimony. -Juniper, the one person who had been in the court-room -at the time of the assassination, could not be -called at once, as he was still in the hospital, but he -had made a deposition that he did not know who fired -the shots, that his back was turned and that when he -heard the reports he ran. This impossible statement -could not be shaken even by threats. Later, he would -go on the stand, but Judge Hollis had given up hope -of the truth; he believed, at heart, that Juniper was -crazed with fright. Had he been hired to fire the -shots? The judge could not believe it, for he felt -tolerably certain that Juniper would have hit nothing.</p> - -<p>The general belief outside, however, was that Caleb -had used his opportunity well and threatened or bribed -the negro into making his remarkable affidavit. In -fact, Caleb was himself profoundly puzzled, yet the -testimony of Eaton, given clearly and apparently dispassionately, -was damaging. He had been in Colonel -Coad’s office, he was coming along the upper corridor, -heard the shots and ran to the court-room, reaching -the door immediately before Sergeant O’More of the -police; both men met Caleb Trench coming out of -the room, and on the floor, by the window, was -the revolver. No one else was in sight. Juniper’s -flight had been made at the first shot, and seven minutes<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[214]</span> -only had elapsed before any one could reach the -court-room. Caleb Trench had been seen to enter the -building at twenty-five minutes to one o’clock, and -his time up to the assassination was unaccounted for. -He said that he had been in the basement of the building, -but his statement did not give any legitimate -reason for the length of time between his entrance -and his appearance in the court-room. It took, in -reality, just two minutes to reach the court-room -from the lower door by the staircase. Trench made -no explanation of the use of that twenty-five minutes, -even to his counsel. Judge Hollis stormed and grew -angry, but Caleb pointed out the fact that the pistol -was not his, and he could prove it; this made the -judge’s language absolutely profane. The obstinacy -of the prisoner resulted in a distinct collapse at that -point in the trial; it was evident that the time must -be accounted for, since the circumstantial evidence -was strong.</p> - -<p>The public prosecutor, Colonel Coad, was pressing -in, scoring point by point, and Judge Hollis fought -and sparred and gave way, inwardly swearing because -he had to do so. Meanwhile, the prisoner was serene; -he took notes and tried to help his counsel, but he -showed no signs of trepidation and he would not -admit any use for that time in the basement of the -court-house. Judge Hollis could not, therefore, put -him on the stand on his own behalf, and the old man -grew purple with wrath.</p> - -<p>“Look here, Mr. Trench,” he said, with bitter formality,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[215]</span> -“what damned crotchet have you got in your -head? What fool thing were you doing? Working a -penny-in-the-slot machine in the basement? Out -with it, or I walk out of this case.”</p> - -<p>“And leave me to the tender mercies of my enemies,” -said Caleb quietly; “no, Judge, not yet! I -can’t see my way clear to tell you.”</p> - -<p>“Then I’m darned if I see mine to defend you!” -snapped the judge.</p> - -<p>They were in the prisoner’s cell at the jail, and -Caleb got up and went to the little barred window -which overlooked the dreary courtyard where the -prisoners were exercising. After a moment, when he -seemed to mechanically count the blades of grass between -the flagstones, he turned. The judge was -watching him, his hat on like a snuffer, as usual, and -his hands in pockets.</p> - -<p>“Judge Hollis,” said Caleb quietly, “if I told you -where I was, another witness would have to be called, -and neither you nor I would wish to call that witness.”</p> - -<p>The judge looked at him steadily; Caleb returned -the look as steadily, and there was a heavy silence.</p> - -<p>“By the Lord Harry!” said the judge at last, “I -believe you’d let ’em hang you rather than give in a -hair’s breadth.”</p> - -<p>Then Caleb smiled his rare sweet smile.</p> - -<p>The second long week of the trial wore to its close, -and the web of circumstantial evidence was clinging -fast about the prisoner. Witnesses had testified to -his character and against it. The name of Jean Bartlett<span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[216]</span> -ran around the court, and some men testified to -a belief that Caleb was the father of the child he had -befriended. Judge Hollis did not attempt to have -the testimony ruled out; he let it go in, sitting back -with folded arms and a grim smile. He cross-examined -Jacob Eaton twice, but made nothing of it. -Jacob was an excellent witness, and he showed no -passion, even when witnesses described the duel and -his conduct to show his motive in attacking Trench.</p> - -<p>Sunday night Judge Hollis received a telephone -message from Colonel Royall, and, after his early -supper, the judge ordered around his rockaway and -drove over, with Lysander beside him to hold the -reins. He found Mrs. Eaton in the drawing-room with -Diana, and was coldly received by Jacob’s mother; -she resented any attempt to line up forces against her -son, and she regarded the defender of Caleb Trench as -an enemy to society. The judge bowed before her -grimly.</p> - -<p>“I thought you were in the city, madam,” he -remarked.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Eaton threw up her hands. “With that mob -loose, and the soldiers? My dear Judge! I wouldn’t -stay for a million, and I’m a poor woman. Good -gracious, think of it! It’s just as I’ve always said,—you -go on letting in the shiploads of anarchists and -we’ll all be murdered in our beds.”</p> - -<p>“Madam,” said the judge grimly, “the only thing -I ever let in is the cat. Sarah and the niggers look -after the front door.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[217]</span>Mrs. Eaton raised her eyebrows. “I can’t understand -you,” she said, with distant politeness; “I -refer to immigration.”</p> - -<p>“And I refer to immoderation, madam,” snapped -the judge.</p> - -<p>Diana intervened. “Pa wants you,” she said -sweetly, and went with him across the hall to the -library. At the door she paused. “Judge Hollis,” -she said, “does the trial hinge on the question of the -time in the basement—before—before Mr. Trench -went up-stairs?”</p> - -<p>The judge scowled. “It does,” said he flatly, “and -Caleb’s a fool.”</p> - -<p>Diana smiled faintly; she looked unusually lovely -and very grave. “Judge,” she said, “no matter what -pa says, I’ll do it all; he’s demurred,” and with this -enigmatical sentence she thrust the judge inside the -door and closed it.</p> - -<p>Monday the court met at noon and the throng was -greater than ever. Report had it that the case was -going to the jury, and men had slept on benches in -the square. The morning papers reprinted Caleb’s -famous speech at Cresset’s and the account of the -stand he had made in the face of the would-be lynching -party. Fed with this fuel, party feeling ran high; -besides, the Yarnall faction was deeply stirred. It -seemed as if this change in events had swept away -the chance of punishment for Jacob Eaton, who was -figuring largely and conspicuously in this trial and -who had caught the public eye. Moreover, he had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[218]</span> -been industrious in circulating the scandalous tale of -Jean Bartlett. The court-room buzzed. Three times -Judge Ladd rapped for order and finally threatened -to clear the court-room. This was the day that the -crowd in the windows shut off all view for those in -the tree of heaven. It was a hot autumn day and the -air was heavy. Stout men like Judge Hollis looked -purple, and even Caleb flushed under the strain.</p> - -<p>Colonel Coad cross-examined two witnesses in a -lengthy fashion that threatened to exhaust even the -patience of the court, and Judge Hollis was on his -feet every few minutes with objections. The judge -was out of temper, nervous and snappy, yet triumph -glowed in his eyes, for he scented battle and victory -at last.</p> - -<p>The dreary day wore to an uneventful end, and -there was almost a sob of disappointment in the -packed and sweltering mass of humanity. One -woman fainted and the bailiffs had to bring ice-water. -Outside, the rifles rattled as the guards changed.</p> - -<p>At five o’clock, just before the belated adjournment -hour, Judge Hollis rose and asked the clerk to -call a new witness for the defense. There was a languid -stir of interest, the judge looked irate, the jurors -shifted wearily in their chairs. The clerk called the -witness.</p> - -<p>“Diana Royall.”</p> - -<p>The sensation was immense; the court-room -hummed, the weariest juror turned and looked down -the crowded room. Very slowly a way was made to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[219]</span> -the witness-stand, and a tall slight figure in white, -with a broad straw hat and a light veil, came quietly -forward.</p> - -<p>Caleb Trench turned deadly white.</p> - -<p>In a stillness so intense that every man seemed to -hear only his own heart beat, the clerk administered -the oath and the new witness went on the stand.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[220]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XXIV</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">JUDGE HOLLIS, standing before the witness-stand, -looked at Diana with fatherly eyes; his -manner lost its brusqueness and became that -of the old-fashioned gentleman of gallantry. Diana -herself looked across the court-room with a composure -and dignity of pose that became her. Every eye was -riveted upon her. For days the papers had reeked -with the story of Jean Bartlett and her child, yet -here—on the stand for the prisoner—was one of the -first young ladies in the State.</p> - -<p>Judge Hollis had been taking notes, and he closed -his notebook on his finger and took off his gold-rimmed -spectacles.</p> - -<p>“Where were you on the afternoon of Tuesday, -August eighteenth, about one o’clock, Miss Diana?”</p> - -<p>Diana answered at once, and in a clear low voice. -“In this building, Judge, in a small room on the lower -floor.”</p> - -<p>“A small room on the lower floor? Let us see, Miss -Diana,”—the judge tapped his book with his spectacles,—“the -room to the right, was it, at the end -of the west corridor?”</p> - -<p>Diana explained the position of the room and the -vicinity of the staircase.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[221]</span>“Ah,” said the old lawyer, with the air of having -made a discovery, “to be sure; it’s the room we call -‘the cage’—on the basement floor. Rather a dreary -place to wait, Miss Diana: how long were you there?”</p> - -<p>“I am not sure,” she replied, coloring suddenly, -“but certainly an hour. It was a little after twelve -when we reached the building, and I heard the clock -strike one just before the shots were fired.”</p> - -<p>“Ah! You heard the shots?”</p> - -<p>“I did.”</p> - -<p>“How many did you hear, Miss Diana?” the judge -asked in his easiest, most conversational tone.</p> - -<p>“Two, Judge, two reports in quick succession.”</p> - -<p>“And you heard only two?” his tone was sharp, -incisive; it cut like a knife.</p> - -<p>Diana threw him a startled glance, but she was -still composed, though the breathless silence in the -room was deeply affecting.</p> - -<p>“I heard but two,” she said firmly.</p> - -<p>“How soon after one o’clock?” he demanded, his -bony forefinger following her testimony, as it seemed, -across the cover of the book he held.</p> - -<p>“The clock in the hall had just struck.” Diana -was holding every instinct, every thought, in hand. -Her eyes never left his rugged face, yet, all the while, -she was conscious of the court-room, growing dim in -the early twilight, of the rows of upturned eager -faces, but more conscious still of the pale face of -Caleb Trench.</p> - -<p>Judge Hollis made some notes, then he looked up<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[222]</span> -suddenly. “Miss Royall,” he said formally, “do you -know the prisoner at the bar?”</p> - -<p>Diana drew a deep breath; she was aware of a -hundred pairs of curious eyes. The awful silence of -the room seemed to leap upon her and bear her down. -She turned her head with an effort and met Caleb’s -eyes. For a single second they looked at each other, -with the shock of mutual feeling, then she answered, -and her low voice reached the farthest corner of the -crowded room.</p> - -<p>“I do.”</p> - -<p>Judge Hollis waited an instant; he let every word -she said have its full effect and weight. “Did you -see him upon the morning of the assassination?”</p> - -<p>“I did.”</p> - -<p>“In the basement of the court-house?”</p> - -<p>“In the room which you call the cage, Judge -Hollis,” she replied quietly, though she colored again; -“I saw him there twice.”</p> - -<p>“At what time?” the old man’s harsh voice rang, -like the blow of a sledge-hammer.</p> - -<p>“He was with me in that room when the clock -struck one, and we both heard the shots fired.” Diana -spoke gently, but her voice thrilled; she knew that, -in the face of the scurrilous attacks upon Caleb -Trench, her position was at once courageous and -perilous.</p> - -<p>“He was in the room in the basement with you -then, when Yarnall was shot,” said Judge Hollis, his -eyes kindling with triumph.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[223]</span>“He was.”</p> - -<p>She had scarcely uttered the words, and Caleb -Trench’s white face had flushed deeply, when some one -cheered. In an instant there was a wave of applause. -It swept through the room, it reached the corridors -and descended the stairs; the sentries heard it in the -quadrangle. Men stood up on the rear benches and -shouted. Then Judge Ladd enforced silence; he -even threatened to clear the court by force and lock -the doors, and like a wave of the sea, the wild enthusiasm -receded, only to gain force and roll back at the -first opportunity.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Colonel Royall sat behind the witness-stand, -leaning on his cane, his head bowed and his -fine aristocratic face as bloodless as a piece of paper. -There were many who pointed at him and whispered, -and the whisper traveled. “Was he thinking of his -girl’s mother?” That foul hag, the world, has a -heart that treasures scandal, and the lips of -malice!</p> - -<p>The court-room seethed with excitement, but -silence reigned again; the lights were flaring now on -the judge’s desk and on the reporters’ table; the busy -scratch of the stenographers’ pens was audible. -Diana was still on the stand, and she explained how -Caleb Trench left her to ascertain the results of the -shots, and how he returned and got her father and -herself into their carriage. Her testimony was simple -and direct, and, though she was briefly cross-examined -by Colonel Coad, the prosecuting attorney, she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[224]</span> -sustained her position and suffered nothing at the -hands of that pompous but courteous gentleman.</p> - -<p>When Diana rose from the witness-stand and -walked back to her seat between her father and Miss -Sarah Hollis, there was another ripple of the wave of -applause, but it was quickly suppressed. She leaned -back in her chair and clasped her hands tightly in her -lap, struggling with herself, for she was conscious of -a new tumult of feeling that submerged even thought -itself; and it seemed to her that her heart beat, not -only in her bosom, but in every quivering limb. Was -it possible, she asked herself, that the tumult in the -court-room had frightened her? Or the fact that on -her word alone hung a man’s life? No, no, not altogether; -in that moment, when their eyes met, she -had seen again the lonely trail and heard the dull -passion in the man’s voice when he told her that he -loved her; and suddenly, in one of those supreme -moments of self-revelation, she knew that nothing -mattered to her, neither his humble struggle, his -poverty, the accusation against him, not even Jean -Bartlett’s story, nothing—nothing counted but that -one primitive, undeniable fact of his love for her. -Before it she felt suddenly defenseless, yet another -self was awakening to vigilance in her heart and -summoning her back to the battle of resistance. She -had testified for him, and every face in the court-room -turned toward her, strained to watch her, told -her how great had been the weight of her testimony. -She had deceived herself with the thought that only<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[225]</span> -her duty brought her, her honor, her determination -that justice should be done. Yet she knew now that -it was not that, but something mightier, deeper, more -unconquerable,—something that, to her shame, refused -even to consider the charges against him, and, -instead, drew her to him with a force so irresistible -that she trembled. She fought it back and struggled, -resisted and tried to fix her attention on the proceedings -of the court. But what was there in the man? -What power that had won its way even with men and -made him in so short a time a leader, and now—was -it casting its spell over her?</p> - -<p>Then she heard her father testifying briefly to the -time that he left her, to his own visit to Judge Ladd’s -room, the announcement of the shooting, and his -return to Diana. It was in the order of sustaining -her testimony, but it was unnecessary, for she had -already established an <i>alibi</i> for Trench.</p> - -<p>Then followed a tilt between counsel on the admission -of testimony from Dr. Cheyney as to the character -of the defendant. Colonel Coad resisted, fighting -point by point. Judge Hollis was determined and -vindictive; he even lost his temper and quarreled -with the Commonwealth attorney, and would, doubtless, -have become profane if the court had not intervened -and sustained him. In that moment the old -lawyer triumphed openly, his eyes flashing, his face -nearly purple with excitement. But the tilt was not -over when the doctor was put on the stand. It became -evident, in a moment, that Judge Hollis was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[226]</span> -bent on the story of Jean Bartlett, and Colonel Coad -got to his feet and objected. Again silence reigned -in the court-room, and they heard the tree of heaven -creak under its weight of human fruit. Inch by inch -Colonel Coad fought and Judge Hollis won. Testimony -had been admitted to damage the character -of the prisoner; he was offering this in sur-rebuttal. -It was half-past six when Colonel Coad gave up and -the old judge put on his spectacles and stared into -the spectacled eyes of the old doctor. The two eager, -lined old faces were as wonderful in their shrewd -watchfulness as two faces from the brush of Rembrandt. -The dingy, green-shaded lights flickered on -them, and the suppressed excitement of the room -thrilled about them, until the very atmosphere -seemed charged.</p> - -<p>“You have heard the prisoner charged with the -ruin of Jean Bartlett, Dr. Cheyney?” asked the judge.</p> - -<p>“I have, sir.”</p> - -<p>“You knew Jean Bartlett before and after the -birth of her child; what was her mental condition at -those times?”</p> - -<p>“Before the birth of her child she was sane; afterwards -she was ill a long time and never fully recovered -from the fever and delirium.”</p> - -<p>“Did she make any statement to you before the -birth of the child?”</p> - -<p>Colonel Coad objected; Judge Hollis said that he -intended to show that the prisoner was not the father -of the child. Objection not sustained. The judge<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[227]</span> -looked sideways at Colonel Coad and coughed; the -colonel sat down. The judge repeated his question.</p> - -<p>“She did,” said Dr. Cheyney slowly, leaning a little -forward and looking intently at the old lawyer. A -breathless pause ensued.</p> - -<p>“Please state to the court the condition and nature -of that statement.” Judge Hollis’ tone was dry, rasping, -unemotional.</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney took off his spectacles, wiped them -and put them in his pocket. “She was of sound mind -and she stated her case to me, and I made her repeat -it and write it down, because”—the old doctor’s -face twisted a little into a whimsical grimace,—“I -thought likely the child might be handed around -considerable.”</p> - -<p>A titter ran through the room. Judge Ladd rapped -for order. Dr. Cheyney unfolded a slip of paper and -smoothed it out.</p> - -<p>“If it please the court,” he said quietly, “I have -been very reluctant to produce this evidence.”</p> - -<p>Colonel Coad rose. “Does it incriminate any person, -or persons, not on trial before this court?” he -asked.</p> - -<p>“It does.”</p> - -<p>“Then, your Honor, I object!” shouted the indignant -Coad.</p> - -<p>Judge Hollis turned to speak.</p> - -<p>“The objection is sustained,” said the court.</p> - -<p>The old lawyer for the defense turned purple again, -and flashed a furious glance at Dr. Cheyney. The<span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[228]</span> -doctor smiled, his face puckering. The tense excitement -and curiosity in the room found utterance in -a sigh of disappointment. Judge Hollis slammed -his papers on his desk and turned the witness over to -the prosecution. Colonel Coad did not press the examination, -and the old doctor went calmly back to -his seat with his secret untold.</p> - -<p>Hollis turned to the court. “Your Honor, I waive -the right to sum up, and rest the case for the -defense.”</p> - -<p>An hour later Colonel Coad had closed for the prosecution -and Judge Ladd charged the jury.</p> - -<p>There had been no recess, and the crowded room -was packed to suffocation. Everywhere were faces, -white, haggard, intent with excitement, and the -labored breathing of men who hung upon a word. A -thunderstorm was coming on, and now and then a -vivid flash flooded the room with light. At half-past -eight Judge Ladd gave the case to the jury. The -foreman rose and stated that the jury had reached a -verdict without leaving the box.</p> - -<p>There was an intense moment, and then Judge Ladd -spoke slowly.</p> - -<p>“Have you agreed upon a verdict?”</p> - -<p>“We have, your Honor.”</p> - -<p>“Is the prisoner at the bar guilty, or not guilty, as -charged in the indictment?”</p> - -<p>“Not guilty.”</p> - -<p>The wave of passion and excitement broke, the -court-room rose as one man; the shout was heard ten<span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[229]</span> -squares away, and the echo reached the farthest -corner of the city. The bailiffs fought and struggled -to keep order, for men would have carried the prisoner -on their shoulders. He was the only one unmoved. -He stood like a rock amid the surging crowd, and it -seemed to Diana that he towered, with a certain -simplicity and strength that made him seem at once -apart from other men and above them. In her heart -she wondered at her own temerity, when she had -treated him with discourtesy. Here was a primitive -man, and the primitive strength, the righteous force -in him, held other men, as that strange gift of magnetism -that wields and binds and moves millions till -they seem but one.</p> - -<p>She turned away, holding tightly to her father’s -arm, eager to escape, and begrudging the slow and -tortuous passage to the door. Behind her and before -her, on every hand, from lip to lip, ran the prisoner’s -name.</p> - -<p>The colonel almost lifted Diana from the crowd -into the carriage. Then he took his seat beside her -and closed the door; slowly the horses made their -way through the throng in the quadrangle. It was -raining hard, and the wind blew the moisture across -their heated faces.</p> - -<p>“By gum!” said Colonel Royall, “they’ll make -him governor! But Jacob Eaton—Jacob Eaton!”</p> - -<p>The old man was bewildered; he passed his hand -over his face. Diana said nothing; the night blurred -itself into the rain.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[230]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XXV</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">IT was long past midnight when Mrs. Eaton went -down-stairs for the fourth time to see if her son -had returned home.</p> - -<p>She was alone with the servants in the old Eaton -house, which was three miles from Broad Acres, and -she had not ventured out in the storm, which had been -raging since early evening. The wind shook the old -house at intervals with the moan of autumn in the -gale, yet the roll of thunder recalled midsummer. -Once she had looked out and, in a blinding flash, saw -the old cottonwoods in front of the house stripped -naked by the wind. There was a weird aspect to the -world in that one fierce moment of illumination, and -the tumult of sounds without, the creaking of the old -house within, and the interminable ticking of the -clocks recalled to her shrinking mind a memory of -that other night, long ago, when she had been summoned -home from Lexington, to find her husband’s -dead body in the long west room, and hear the whisperings -of the terrified servants on the stairs. She knew -that even now the negroes were locked in the wing, for -they believed that on such nights Eaton walked, -demanding the blood of the Yarnalls, and since<span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[231]</span> -Yarnall’s death, violent as his own, they had shrieked -at shadows.</p> - -<p>Though she realized the folly of their superstitions, -poor Jinny Eaton, alone and vaguely terrified, -shivered too. Once she caught herself looking -over her shoulder, and at last she cried hysterically. -The wind, sweeping a long branch against the window, -rattled the pane, and she started up, white with fright. -In a sudden panic she rang for her maid, but no one -answered, though she heard the blurred sound far in -the distance; a glance at the clock told her it was -nearly two. There was no light except in the hall -and the library, where she herself had turned the -electric switch, and she walked through all the other -dim rooms, starting at a shadow, and looking over her -shoulder when the floors creaked behind her. The -house was much more richly furnished than Broad -Acres, and everywhere she was surrounded with the -luxuries that she loved. But alone there, in those -desolate hours before the dawn, poor Jinny found no -comfort in the things that had always seemed so -comforting. In a vague way at first, and constantly -resisting even her own convictions, she had begun to -feel a doubt of Jacob,—Jacob, who had been almost -omnipotent to her, who had represented all her hopes -and aspirations for years, and was, in her own eyes, -the achievement of her life. To have her faith in him -shaken was more bitter than death. And where was -he? A premonition of evil oppressed her, as she wandered -from place to place in restless unhappiness.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[232]</span> -Earlier in the night she had tried in vain to reach him -over the telephone: now her only resource was to -wait. She went from window to window, peeping -out, her face drawn and haggard, and all the well-preserved -traces of her former beauty lost in her -pathetic dishevelment. She watched the morning -dawn over the long fields that smoked with moisture, -and she saw the broken limbs of the trees and the -dead leaves that scurried before the wind, like the -shriveled ghosts of summer. Then, just as she had -given up the vigil, and sank in a disconsolate heap in -the nearest chair, she heard his latch-key in the door, -and running into the hall fell on his neck in a fit of -hysterical weeping.</p> - -<p>“Oh, Jacob,” she sobbed, “where have you been?”</p> - -<p>“Don’t be silly!” he said crossly, and loosened her -arms from his neck. “I’m dead beat; where’s -Davidson? I want something.”</p> - -<p>“The servants are not up yet,” his mother faltered. -“I’ll get you some whiskey and soda, dear, and I’ll -ring up Davidson. I’ve been up all night.”</p> - -<p>Jacob flung himself into a chair and sat there waiting -for her to bring the liquor and wait on him, as -she had waited on him all his life. But, if she thought -of this at all, it was only with an alarmed perception -of the haggard moodiness of his expression. She saw -that he had been drinking heavily already, but she -dared not deny him more, and, in a way, she had -faith in his own judgment in the matter. She had -never known him to drink more than he was able to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[233]</span> -bear, and she did not know that Will Broughton said -that Trench owed his life to Eaton’s tippling, and -steadier nerves and a firmer hand would have dealt -certain death. She came back at last, after a lengthy -excursion to the pantry, and brought him some refreshments, -arranged hastily on a little tray by hands -so unaccustomed to any sick-room service that they -were almost awkward. She put the things down beside -him on the table and fluttered about, eager to -help him and almost afraid of him, as she was in his -ungracious moods. But her desire for news, the certainty -that he could settle all her doubts, lent a -pleasurable thrill of excitement to her trepidation. -Her news from the city had been vague, and the announcement -of Caleb’s acquittal had only filtered to -her over a belated telephone to the housekeeper, but -here was the fountainhead of all her information.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Jacob drank the liquor, but scarcely -tasted the food, and his lowering expression disfigured -his usually smooth good looks. He leaned back -in his chair, staring absently at the bottle, and saying -nothing, though he slowly closed and unclosed his -hands, a trick of his when angry or deeply distraught. -His mother, seeing the gesture, experienced another -throb of dismay; something had happened, something -which struck at the root of things, but what? She -fluttered to the window and opening the shutter let -in the pale gray light of morning, and as she did it -she heard the servants stirring in the wing. At last -she could endure suspense no longer.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[234]</span>“For heaven’s sake, Jacob!” she cried, “what is -the matter?”</p> - -<p>He gave her a sidelong look from under heavy lids -and seemed to restrain an impulse to speak out. “I -suppose you know that rascal is acquitted?” he said -curtly.</p> - -<p>“I could scarcely believe it!” she replied, dropping -into the chair opposite and pushing back her long full -sleeves and loosening the ribbons at her throat, as if -she suddenly felt the heat. “It seems impossible—after -your evidence, too, and Governor Aylett’s! -That jury must have been full of anarchists.”</p> - -<p>“Full of asses!” snapped Jacob. “I fancy that -you don’t know that Diana Royall got up on the -witness-stand and made a public exhibition of herself -to clear him?”</p> - -<p>“Diana?” Mrs. Eaton could not believe her ears.</p> - -<p>“Yes, Diana,” mocked her son, “our Diana. She -went on the stand and created a sensation, took the -court by storm and the city. Good Lord! Her -name’s in every club in the place.”</p> - -<p>“I—I can’t believe it!” gasped his mother: “it’s -incredible—Diana Royall?”</p> - -<p>“Incredible?” He rose, his face was white with -fury. “Is it incredible? Do you remember her -mother?”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Eaton collapsed. “Jacob!” she breathed, -“don’t! It makes me shiver to think you might have -married her.”</p> - -<p>“By God, I would to-day!” he cried, unable to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[235]</span> -restrain himself, “if only to break her spirit, to make -her pay for this!”</p> - -<p>“I can’t see what she knew,” Mrs. Eaton protested, -“she—a young girl—and all this awful scandal -about Jean Bartlett in the papers. In my day, a -young girl would have been ashamed to show her face -in the court.”</p> - -<p>“Well, she wasn’t,” said Jacob dryly; “she appeared -and told the court that at the hour of the -shooting she was alone with Caleb Trench in the -prisoners’ cage!”</p> - -<p>“Merciful heavens!” ejaculated Mrs. Eaton faintly, -“was David crazy to let her do it?”</p> - -<p>“He’s an old fool!” said Jacob fiercely, “a damned -old fool!”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Eaton clasped her hands. “I’m only too -thankful, Jacob, that you never married her!” she -said devoutly.</p> - -<p>“She’s refused me twice,” said Jacob grimly.</p> - -<p>His mother uttered an inarticulate sound. And at -that instant Davidson, an old gray-headed negro, -appeared and Jacob called him. “Tell James to -pack my suit-case,” he said sharply. “I’m going -to Lexington this morning on the eight-forty.”</p> - -<p>“Doctor Cheyney’s at the doah, suh,” said Davidson, -“and would like ter see yo’.”</p> - -<p>“What does that old fool want, I wonder?” Jacob -remarked, as he rose to follow the negro into the -hall.</p> - -<p>“What are you going so soon for, Jacob?” his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[236]</span> -mother asked tremulously, “and can you—the -bail—”</p> - -<p>“I’ve arranged that,” said Jacob shortly, and flung -himself out of the room.</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney was looking out from under the cover -of his buggy, and old Henk was breathing as if they -had ascended the hill at an unusual gait.</p> - -<p>“Morning, Jacob,” said the doctor pleasantly, “I -stopped by to leave that book for your mother; Mrs. -Broughton asked me to bring it when I passed yesterday -and I clean forgot it.”</p> - -<p>Jacob took the volume gingerly and looked politely -bored. What in the world did the old fool mean by -bringing books before seven o’clock in the morning?</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney gathered up the reins: conversation -seemed improbable, but he noticed that Davidson -had gone back into the house. They were quite -alone under the leaden sky, and the fresh wind blew -moist across their faces.</p> - -<p>“By the way,” said the old man carelessly, “Judge -Hollis has been with Juniper all night and at six this -morning I heard he had a confession.”</p> - -<p>Jacob looked up into the doctor’s eyes, his own -narrowing. “Ah,” he said, “I presume Judge Hollis -makes out that Juniper did the shooting?”</p> - -<p>“Don’t know,” said Dr. Cheyney, slapping the -reins on Henk’s broad back, “heard there would be -an arrest to-day,” and he drove slowly off, the old -wheels sinking in first one rut and then another, and -jolting the carriage from side to side.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[237]</span>Jacob Eaton stood looking after it a minute, then -he turned and went into the house. It was now -seven o’clock in the morning.</p> - -<p>That evening, at the corresponding hour, Colonel -Royall and Diana were dining alone at Broad Acres. -The fact that Diana had been drawn into an undesirable -publicity through her unexpected connection -with the celebrated case troubled Colonel Royall profoundly. -He was an old-fashioned Southern gentleman, -and believed devoutly in sheltering and -treasuring his beautiful daughter; every instinct had -been jarred upon by the mere fact of her appearance -on the witness-stand, and the circumstances, too, -which made it practically his own fault. He blamed -himself for his carelessness in ignorantly leaving her in -a room used by the prisoners and, in fact, for taking -her there at all. Yet he fully sympathized with her -in her courage. Behind it all, however, was a memory -which stung, and the knowledge that an old scandal -is never really too dead to rise, like a phœnix, from -its ashes.</p> - -<p>All through the latter part of the summer the -colonel had been unwell, and lately Diana had watched -him with deep concern. Dr. Cheyney pooh-poohed -her solicitude, said the colonel was as sound as a boy -of ten, and only advised a cheerful atmosphere. But -Diana, sitting opposite to him that day at dinner, -saw how white and drawn his face was, how pinched -his lips, how absent his gentle blue eyes. She felt a -sudden overwhelming dread and found it difficult to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[238]</span> -talk and laugh lightly, even when he responded with -an eagerness that was an almost pathetic attempt at -his natural manner.</p> - -<p>They were just leaving the dining-room when Judge -Hollis was announced, and Diana was almost glad, -even of this interruption, though she was conscious of -a sharp dread that they were to hear more of the trial. -A glance at the judge’s face as he stalked into the -room confirmed this impression; he was no longer -wholly triumphant, his rugged jaw was locked, and -his shaggy brows hung low over his keen eyes. He -walked into the center of the room as usual and -banged his hat down on the table.</p> - -<p>“David,” he said abruptly, “how deep are you in -with Jacob Eaton?”</p> - -<p>Colonel Royall leaned forward in his chair, his -hands clasping the arms. “Pretty well in,” he said -simply, “unless he’s sold out my shares for me. I -asked it, but he didn’t do it last week.”</p> - -<p>“Oh, Lordy!” said the judge.</p> - -<p>Diana went around the table and put her hand on -her father’s shoulder; her young figure, drawn to its -full height, seemed to stand between him and impending -misfortune.</p> - -<p>“Juniper confessed this morning,” said Judge Hollis -harshly, forcing himself to his unpleasant task. “He -was hired by Jacob Eaton to stand in the window of -the court-room while Jacob fired from behind him -and killed Yarnall.”</p> - -<p>Colonel Royall rose and stood, white as ashes. -“My God!” he said.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[239]</span>Diana flung one arm around him. Judge Hollis -stood looking at them a moment, then he cleared his -throat, choked and went on.</p> - -<p>“Caleb Trench to-day gave me the proofs that -Aaron Todd and others have collected in regard to -the Eaton Investment Company. The shares are not -worth the paper they’re written on, the company is -a name, a bubble, a conspiracy. Not one cent will -ever be recovered by the stockholders. Before nine -o’clock this morning Jacob Eaton jumped his bail and -ran. He can’t be found—he—”</p> - -<p>Diana suddenly stretched out a white arm before -her father, as if she warded off a blow.</p> - -<p>“Not another word, Judge,” she said sternly, “not -a word—on your life!”</p> - -<p>Judge Hollis uttered an exclamation and went over -to the colonel’s side. “Royall,” he said, “I’m a -brute—but it’s God’s truth.”</p> - -<p>“I know it,” said Colonel Royall, “and Jacob is of -my blood—I feel the disgrace. Hollis, I feel the -disgrace!” and he sat down and covered his face with -his hands.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[240]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XXVI</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">TWO mornings later Dr. Cheyney finished his -breakfast in abstracted silence; not even -Miss Lucinda’s best rice griddle-cakes calling -forth a word of approval. He had been talking over -the telephone with Diana Royall. He finished his -perfunctory examination of the daily paper, which -was full of the flight of Jacob Eaton, the collapse of -the Eaton Investment Company, the ruin of many -prominent citizens, and the illness of Mrs. Eaton, who -had been sent at once to a private sanitarium in the -city.</p> - -<p>The absorbing topic of Eaton had almost swallowed -up the hitherto absorbing topic of Caleb Trench, -though Caleb once more loomed up, directing the -forces of the opposition.</p> - -<p>The doctor folded the paper viciously and put it in -his pocket, then he went out and climbed into his old -buggy; he remembered quite distinctly that other -morning when he had climbed into it at six o’clock -to drive past the Eatons at a convenient hour. It -might be said that the old man was so hardened in -kindly iniquity that his conscience never suffered a -single twinge. He and old Henk traveled more slowly -up the hill, however, than on that previous occasion.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[241]</span> -As he approached Broad Acres he was struck with the -dreary aspect of the autumn, and noticed that even -the house itself looked less cheerful. He had seen -Colonel Royall’s name on every quotation of losses -in the Eaton Company, and he drew his own -conclusions.</p> - -<p>At the door Diana met him. She was very pale.</p> - -<p>“Dear Dr. Cheyney,” she said, holding out both -hands, “it’s a relief to see you! I couldn’t tell you -over the ’phone—but—” She stopped, her lips -trembled.</p> - -<p>“What is it, Diana?” the old man asked gently.</p> - -<p>“You know the Shut Room?” She looked up -imploringly.</p> - -<p>The silence of the house behind her seemed impenetrable; -the long hall was vacant.</p> - -<p>“I know,” said the doctor, and Diana understood -that he knew even more than she did.</p> - -<p>“He’s been sitting there alone; he will not let me -stay with him,” she explained.</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney stood a moment in some doubt, his -hand at his chin in a familiar attitude of thought. -His gospel refused to intrude into the confidence of -any one, but there were cases where it might be an -absolute necessity to interfere; the question which -confronted him was whether or not this was one of -these rare instances.</p> - -<p>“How long has it been?” he asked finally.</p> - -<p>“Two whole days,” replied Diana, “and he has -scarcely eaten a mouthful. This morning he took<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[242]</span> -only one cup of coffee; he looks like death. And you -know how it is,—that room always affects him so, he -never seems himself after he has been there. Sometimes,” -she added passionately, “sometimes—I wish -I could wall it up!”</p> - -<p>“I wish you could!” said Dr. Cheyney devoutly.</p> - -<p>“He sits there and looks out of the window: and -twice he has forbidden me to come there,” Diana -went on. “What can I do? It—it breaks my heart -to see him so, and I’m sure my mother would not wish -it, but he will not listen to that.”</p> - -<p>The old doctor’s lips came together in a sharp line: -without another word he turned and went up the -stairs, reluctance in his step. At the landing was a -stained glass window, the work of a famous European -artist, and the doctor glanced at it with a certain -weariness: personally he preferred plate glass and a -long glimpse of level fields. He had reached the head -of the second broad flight now, and the second door -to the left of the wide hall was ajar, the door which -was usually shut and locked. Where the doctor stood -he could see across the room, for one of the window -shutters was open, and it looked still as it had looked -twenty-three years before, when Diana was born. -There were the same soft and harmonious coloring, -the same rich old furniture, the deep-hued Turkey -rug on the polished floor, the spotless ruffled curtains. -It was unchanged. Life may change a thousand -times while these inanimate things remain to mock -us with their endurance. The doctor moved resolutely<span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[243]</span> -forward and pushed open the door. Colonel -Royall was sitting erect in a high-backed chair in -the center of the room, his hands clasping the arms, -his head bowed, and his kindly blue eyes staring -straight before him. He was singularly pale and -seemed to have aged twenty years. Dr. Cheyney -walked slowly across the room and laid his hand on -his old friend’s shoulder,—they had been boys -together.</p> - -<p>“Is it as bad as that, Davy?” he asked.</p> - -<p>Colonel Royall roused himself with an apparent -effort, and looked up with an expression in which -patient endurance and great grief were strongly -mingled. There was a touch, too, of dignity and reluctance -in his manner, yet if he resented the doctor’s -intrusion he was too courteous to show it. “I’m -pretty hard hit, William,” he said simply, “pretty -hard hit all around; there’s not much more to be -said—that hasn’t been said already on the street -corners and in the market-place.”</p> - -<p>His wounded pride showed through his manner -without destroying his delicate restraint.</p> - -<p>The doctor drew a chair beside him and sat down -unasked. His sympathy was a beautiful thing and -needed no voicing; it reached out imperceptible -feelers and made him intuitively aware of the raw -cut where not even tenderness may lay a finger.</p> - -<p>“It’s not all gone, David?” he inquired.</p> - -<p>Colonel Royall ran his fingers through his thick -white hair. “Pretty much all, William,” he said<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[244]</span> -mechanically; “the place here is free, unmortgaged, -I mean, and I reckon I can hold the property in Virginia, -but the rest—” He raised his hands with a -significant and pathetic gesture; he had fine old -hands, and they had saved and directed from his -youth up until now—to this end! To have trusted -too deeply to an unworthy relative. William Cheyney -leaned back in his chair; the awful actuality of the -calamity was borne in upon him, and he remembered, -even at that moment, his feeling of confidence in the -stability of Colonel Royall’s fortune, though, sometimes, -he had doubted the colonel’s money sense. -There was sometimes, too, a terrible synchronism -between ruin and mental collapse. He looked keenly -at the old man before him, who seemed suddenly -shrunken and gray, and he was troubled by the absent -expression of the mild blue eyes; it was almost -a look of vacancy. He laid his hand tenderly on the -other’s arm.</p> - -<p>“Davy, man,” he said, “cheer up; there are worse -things than financial losses.”</p> - -<p>The colonel recalled himself apparently from very -distant scenes and gazed at him reproachfully. “No -one can know that better than I,” he said, with a -touch of bitterness.</p> - -<p>The doctor stretched out his hand with a bowed -head. “Forgive me, David,” he said simply.</p> - -<p>“There’s nothing to forgive,” replied Colonel -Royall. “I let you say things, William, that other -men could not say to me. But this is a bitter hour;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[245]</span> -my youth was not idle, I never knew an idle day, and -I laid up a fortune in place of my father’s competence; -I wanted to spend my old age in peace, and I trusted -my affairs to a rogue. By gum, I hate to call my -cousin’s son a rascal, but it seems he is! Not half the -burden, though, lies in my own loss; it’s the thought -of all these poor people he has ruined. Women and -girls and old men who had savings—all gone in the -Eaton Investment Company. What was it Caleb -Trench stated about that company? It seems as if -I couldn’t understand it all, I’m—I’m dizzy!” -The colonel touched his forehead apprehensively.</p> - -<p>The doctor regarded him thoughtfully over his -spectacles, but he made no reservations. “Well, -there isn’t any investment company; that’s about -the size of it, David,” he said reluctantly. “People -bought their shares and got—waste paper. They -say Jacob used lots of the money campaigning; it -isn’t charged that he wanted it for himself.”</p> - -<p>“I’ve always held that blood was thicker than -water,” said Colonel Royall, “and Jacob is a thief—a -thief, sir!” he added, putting aside an interruption -from the doctor with a wide sweep of the hand. “He’s -robbed hundreds in this State because his name, his -family, stood for honesty, business reputation, honor—and -once I thought him fit to be my confidant!”</p> - -<p>“We’re all deceived sometimes, David,” said the -doctor soothingly, watching him with his keen skillful -look, “we’re not omniscient; if we were, there’d be -a lot more folks in jail, I reckon. I wouldn’t take it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[246]</span> -to heart; Jacob was on his own responsibility; they -can’t blame you.”</p> - -<p>“They ought to,” declared the colonel passionately. -“I’m an old man, I’m his relative; it was my business -to know what he was doing. And there’s poor -Jinny! I wanted her to come here, so did Diana, and -you packed her off to a sanitarium.”</p> - -<p>“To be sure,” said Dr. Cheyney grimly; “there’s -no need of having three lunatics instead of one. -Jinny’s nerves were about wrecked, she needs quiet, -and she’ll come out well enough; it’s not Jinny I’m -worried about. You let Jacob go, don’t you shoulder -Jacob; no one thinks you’re to blame!”</p> - -<p>Colonel Royall let his clenched hand fall on the arm -of his chair. “The disgrace of it!” he said, and his -lips trembled. “I’ve had my share of disgrace, -William!”</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney rose abruptly and walked to the window. -Through the open shutter he could see, from -this side of the house, the distant river, and near at -hand was a tall jingo tree, yellow as gold with autumn. -The other trees stood half naked against the sky. -Below him a few white chickens strayed on the lawn -unrebuked.</p> - -<p>“You see more of the river since the railroad cut -that last crossing,” Colonel Royall remarked irrelevantly, -“and have you noticed how late the jingo -stays in leaf? It was so the year that—” He -stopped.</p> - -<p>The doctor turned and fixed an irate eye upon him.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[247]</span>Colonel Royall was leaning forward, his eyes fixed -absently on the window, yet he had felt instinctively -the doctor’s attitude. “It may be folly,” he pleaded, -as if in extenuation, “but I don’t want the place -changed; it was like this when she was happy here -and”—his head sank lower—“I’ve got to sell it! -I’ve got to sell it—oh, my God!”</p> - -<p>The doctor went over and took hold of him. -“Davy!” he said fiercely, “Davy, you’ve got to get -out of here! I’m glad it’s to be sold; have done -with it! You’ve got to eat and drink and sleep or -you’ll—”</p> - -<p>He stopped, his hands still on his old friend’s, for -Colonel Royall had slipped gently into unconsciousness, -and lay white and helpless in the high-backed -chair.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[248]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XXVII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">IT was late that night before Dr. Cheyney drove -away from Broad Acres. Colonel Royall had -rallied a little, and the doctor and the servants -had put him to bed, not in the Shut Room, but in his -own old four-poster that had belonged to his mother.</p> - -<p>Before the doctor went away he had sent for a -trained nurse and received and answered telegrams -for Diana, who would not leave her father. At half-past -ten the old doctor drove up to his own door, -overtaxed and weary. As he climbed down from his -old buggy his quick eye detected a brighter light than -usual in his study window, and Miss Lucinda Colfax -met him at the door.</p> - -<p>“There’s been a lady waiting to see you for two -hours,” she whispered, pointing mysteriously at the -study door.</p> - -<p>The doctor sighed as he slipped off his overcoat. It -was some belated patient, of course, and a stranger, -or Miss Lucinda would have named her. He looked -pale and worn, and his white head was bowed a little -with care, and the thought of old David, whom he -loved, as he opened the study door and came into the -circle of light from the student’s lamp on the table.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[249]</span> -A fire burned on the hearth, and a woman sat in the -great old-fashioned winged chair before it. As he -entered she rose and stood facing him. There was a -certain grace and ease in the tall figure and the black -gown, but she wore a thick veil covering both her -large hat and her face and throat. She made a movement, -an involuntary one, it seemed, as the old man -came toward her, and she saw the pallor and age in -his face, a face which was full of a rare sweetness and -strength. But, whatever her first impulse was, the -sight of him seemed to arrest it, to turn it aside, and -she drew back, laying her hand on the high chair and -saying nothing.</p> - -<p>“I am sorry that you had to wait so long, madam,” -Dr. Cheyney said, “but I was with a very sick man. -What can I do for you? Will you be seated?” he -added, drawing forward another chair.</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” she replied in a low voice, sinking -into the chair by which she stood. “I wanted to -speak to you—about—about—some old friends.”</p> - -<p>“Ah?” The doctor looked curiously at the veil. -He could not distinguish a feature under it, but he -seemed to be aware of the feverish brightness of her -eyes.</p> - -<p>“I—I used to know people here,” she began and -stopped, hesitating.</p> - -<p>He did not offer to help her.</p> - -<p>“I was born near here; I used to know you.” -She leaned forward, clasping her hands on her knee, -and he noticed that her fingers trembled.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[250]</span>“I am an old man and forgetful,” he said pleasantly; -“you must jog my memory. Who are the -friends you wish to ask for?”</p> - -<p>“Friends?” she repeated in a strange voice.</p> - -<p>“You said friends,” he replied mildly.</p> - -<p>She turned her face toward him, lifting her veil. -“Don’t you know me?” she asked abruptly.</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney, looking over the tops of his spectacles, -eyed her gravely. It was a handsome face, slightly -pale, with large eyes and full red lips, beautiful, no -doubt, in its first youth, but lined now and hardened, -with an indefinable expression which was elusive, -fluttering, passionate, and most of all unhappy. The -old man shook his head. She rose from her seat and -crossing the room quickly, laid her large white hand -on his arm. She was close to him now; he could see -her breathing stir the laces on her bosom, and was -sharply conscious of the agitation that possessed her -and seemed to thrill her very touch upon his sleeve. -She looked into his eyes, her own wild and sorrowful.</p> - -<p>“Is it possible? Don’t you know me?”</p> - -<p>He returned her gaze sorrowfully, his face changing -sharply. “Yes,” he said soberly, after a moment, -“I do now, Letty.”</p> - -<p>“Letty!” She bit her lips, with a little hard sob, -and her fingers fell from his arm. “My God!” she -cried, “how it all comes back! No one has called me -that in twenty years.”</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney made no responsive movement or gesture; -he stood looking at her quietly, curiously, a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[251]</span> -little sadly. He noted the dignity of figure, and -certain fine lines of beauty that had rather matured -than diminished, yet the change in her was for the -worse in his eyes. Whatever there had been of passion -and vanity and waywardness in her face in her -youth had crystallized with maturity; there was a -palpable worldliness in her manner which sharpened -his conception of her as she must be now. The long -gap in the years since he had known her as she was, -until now, when she must be another person, was -opened suddenly by the realization of the change in -her, and it seemed to him that only a woman could -change so much. Deeply moved herself, she was only -half conscious of the criticism of his glance; she came -back across the room after a moment and stood beside -him, looking at the falling embers, the glow of -the fire acting weirdly in its illumination of her face.</p> - -<p>“Tell me about him,” she said in a low voice; “I -know he has lost nearly everything.”</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney’s lips tightened a little, and he -frowned. “Why do you want to know?” he asked -gravely.</p> - -<p>She blushed deeply and painfully. “You mean I -have no right?”</p> - -<p>He nodded, looking at the fire.</p> - -<p>“Perhaps, I haven’t,” she admitted quickly, -pleadingly. “But there is Diana—has he made her -hate me?”</p> - -<p>“She thinks you dead,” Dr. Cheyney replied -quietly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[252]</span>“Dead?” She shuddered, looking up with frightened -eyes. Then her face blazed angrily. “What -right had he to do it? What right—to make her -believe a falsehood?”</p> - -<p>The old man’s eyes met hers gravely, rebukingly. -“Wasn’t it the best way, Letty?” he asked gently.</p> - -<p>Her blush deepened again, her brow, her chin, even -her throat were crimson. She bit her quivering lip -until the blood came. “You are very cruel,” she said -bitterly, “you righteous people!”</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney leaned heavily on the mantel, his eyes -on the fire. “Would you have had us tell a little innocent -child that, Letty? Tell her that her mother -had deserted her and brought shame upon her?”</p> - -<p>“Do you mean that she has never known?” she -cried, amazed.</p> - -<p>“Never. David did not wish her to know, and we -respected his wish. She believes her mother died -when she was three years old; she even has a deep -and constant tenderness for the Shut Room.”</p> - -<p>She looked at him bewildered. “I do not understand.”</p> - -<p>“Your room,” he explained simply; “he closed -the door on it that day, and for twenty years it has -been unchanged. Yesterday I saw the very book you -laid face downwards on the table, the handkerchief -you dropped. He has mourned you as dead. In his -gentleness, his humility, his greatness of soul, he -chooses to believe you died that day. He loved you -before it, he has loved and mourned you ever since.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[253]</span> -No one has ever heard a reproach from his lips, no -one ever will. You broke his heart.”</p> - -<p>She covered her face with her hands and burst into -tears.</p> - -<p>The old man stood looking at her unmoved, though -the storm of her emotion shook her from head to foot. -Still weeping, she threw herself into the chair by the -fire and bowed her head on her arms.</p> - -<p>“It is twenty years,” she said at last, “and I have -suffered—have you never forgiven me, William -Cheyney?”</p> - -<p>The old man’s face saddened yet more deeply. -“There was nothing for me to forgive; we all had -his great example.”</p> - -<p>She looked up with swimming eyes, her lips twitching -with pain. “It’s twenty years—he married me -after David got the divorce, you knew that?”</p> - -<p>The doctor nodded.</p> - -<p>“He’s dead. Oh, he knew I had suffered, he -wearied of me, and now he’s dead and I’m all alone. -Oh, don’t you understand?” she held out both hands -toward him, “don’t you know why I came?”</p> - -<p>The old man shook his head sadly. “God knows,” -he said.</p> - -<p>“I want Diana!” she cried, “I want my daughter—I -want her love!”</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney looked at her thoughtfully. “She’s -twenty-three, Letty,” he said simply, “and she loves -her father.”</p> - -<p>She winced, turning her eyes from his to the fire.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[254]</span> -“I have seen her,” she said, in subdued tones, “once -or twice when she did not know it. She looks—don’t -you think she looks as I did?” she added -eagerly.</p> - -<p>“No,” he said sternly, “no, she’s like David’s -mother.”</p> - -<p>She flushed angrily. “Oh, never!” she exclaimed. -“She is like me—but you won’t admit it.”</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney shook his head.</p> - -<p>Disappointed, she dropped her chin into her hand -and looked again into the fire. “David has lost -everything,” she said after a moment. “I know, I -heard in New York.”</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney, looking down at her, wondered what -her secret thought was, how far remorse had touched -her? “I’m afraid he’s badly hit,” he admitted -slowly.</p> - -<p>She rose and went to him, her hands trembling. -“Help me,” she said with feverish eagerness, “help -me to get Diana. I want her to come to me; I can -take care of her. It would help him, too. Oh, don’t -you see I could do that much?”</p> - -<p>The old doctor’s penetrating eyes met hers. “You -can take care of her,” he repeated; “you were not -wealthy, Letty; have you grown so?”</p> - -<p>“You have always been hard in your judgment of -me,” she cried bitterly. “I am not a bad woman—I -know, oh, I know I sinned! I married David so -young; I found out my mistake, and when Fenwick -came—I loved him, I ran away from my husband<span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[255]</span> -and my child, I was wicked—oh, I know it! But I -suffered. I am not poor. He left me well off, almost -rich. I have a right to it, he married me, I am his -widow.”</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney said nothing; he moved away from -her a little and again leant his elbow on the -mantel.</p> - -<p>“Will you help me, will you go to Diana?” she -pleaded, following him with sorrowful eyes.</p> - -<p>He shook his head. “Never!”</p> - -<p>She wrung her hands unconsciously. “You think -I have no right to Diana?”</p> - -<p>“Have you?” he asked quietly.</p> - -<p>She hung her head, and the intensity of her suffering -touched him without shaking his resolve.</p> - -<p>“Have you any right to spend a dollar of that -money on her?” he added; “surely you know that -she could not receive it?”</p> - -<p>There was a long silence. She turned, and hiding -her face against the high back of the chair, sobbed -convulsively. “You want to rob me of the last thing -I have in the world!” she said at last.</p> - -<p>“You deserted her,” he replied more gently.</p> - -<p>She raised her face, wet with her passionate tears, -and held out both hands to him. “Will you help me, -will you tell her I am not dead? I am her mother; -she has a right to know it.”</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney still regarded her. “He is very ill, -Letty,” he said, “he may die; would you rob him of -his daughter?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[256]</span>“No, oh, no!” she cried impetuously, “but I—I -want her, too; I have wanted her for twenty years. -Oh, Dr. Cheyney, there is joy in heaven over one -sinner that repenteth!”</p> - -<p>“Diana will not go with you,” he said quietly. “I -know it, and if she would, I would not tell her.”</p> - -<p>“You refuse?” She leaned forward, still holding -the chair with one hand and the other pressed against -her heart.</p> - -<p>“Absolutely.”</p> - -<p>She shivered. “Cruel!” she whispered bitterly.</p> - -<p>He turned to his medicine cabinet and began to -unlock the door. “Stay a moment,” he said kindly, -“you need something, you will be ill.”</p> - -<p>But she fastened her wraps at her throat and let -her veil fall over her face again. “I am not ill,” she -said bitterly, “only heart-broken.”</p> - -<p>He urged her to taste the cordial in his hand, but -she put it aside and went to the door. The old man -followed her.</p> - -<p>“Letty,” he said, “David Royall is very ill; do not -lay another sin against him on your conscience.”</p> - -<p>She had opened the door and, at his words, turned -and laid her cheek against the lintel with a hard dry -sob. “I will see Diana,” she said.</p> - -<p>The doctor made no reply; his quick ear had -caught the sound of a step on the veranda, and almost -at the same moment Caleb Trench appeared in -the lighted space before the open door.</p> - -<p>“What is it, Caleb?” the doctor asked quickly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[257]</span>The young man glanced at the tall woman who -still leaned against the door. “I’ve just got back -from town,” he said, “and I wanted to ask you about -Colonel Royall. I hear that he is ill.”</p> - -<p>The woman started and drew away, and Caleb -saw it.</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney shook his head apprehensively. -“Very ill,” he said; “he was taken with a sinking -spell about noon. Come in, Caleb, and I’ll tell you -about it.”</p> - -<p>Trench stood aside to let the veiled woman pass -out, and then he followed Dr. Cheyney into the study -with a face of some anxiety. He looked worn and old -for his years, but resolutely calm. “How do you -think he really is?” he asked.</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney sank down into his easy-chair by -the fire. “I’m not sure that he’ll live,” he said -despondently.</p> - -<p>Trench frowned, making an inarticulate sound. -The firelight flared on his face now, and its expression -was significant. Dr. Cheyney bent down and began -a desultory search for his carpet slippers; even in the -most interesting moments of life, physical discomforts -pinch the unwary, and the old man’s feet ached. -“He’s worn out, broken-hearted,” he said, referring -to his old friend and removing his boots absently. -“He’s taken this affair to heart, too.”</p> - -<p>“Jacob Eaton?”</p> - -<p>The doctor nodded. “Smooth young scamp,” he -said bitterly, “I always wanted to deal out the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[258]</span> -husks to him, but I reckon he’ll get ’em in the Lord’s -good time. It’s pretty bad, I suppose, Caleb.”</p> - -<p>“Worse than we thought,” replied Caleb. “The -Harrisons’ bank closed its doors to-night; he’s -wrecked it and there’s a terrible panic in the city. -I wonder if he took much with him?”</p> - -<p>“All he could get, I reckon,” mused the doctor, his -mind dwelling not on Jacob but on Letty, and the -climax which he saw impending.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Caleb Trench sat staring into the fire. -“I’m afraid Colonel Royall will suffer heavily,” he -said; “he wasn’t so deeply involved, it appears, -but—as soon as he heard of the wide-spread ruin—he -offered to redeem a number of Jacob Eaton’s -pledges. His offer was accepted, the papers signed, -and now all these claims are rolling up. I honor him -for what he did,” Trench added simply; “it was -noble, but it was quixotic. I fear greatly for the -consequences.”</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney settled himself back in his winged -chair and put the tips of his fingers together. “I -think likely he’ll escape it all,” he remarked gravely; -“he was unconscious twenty minutes to-day and -David isn’t as young as he was. He may be fortunate -enough to pass beyond this trouble.”</p> - -<p>Trench moved uneasily, then he rose and stood, -his back to the fire. “And Miss Royall?” he said.</p> - -<p>“She’s with her father,” replied Dr. Cheyney. -“Caleb, I never saw anything so fine as she was at -your trial.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[259]</span>Trench was silent for a moment, and his face in -the shadow eluded scrutiny. “I would have given -my right hand to save her that notoriety,” he said -at last.</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney looked thoughtful, but there was the -shadow of a smile in the depths of his mild eyes. -“You’ve never asked me to finish my testimony,” -he remarked. “I’m in the possession of a secret that -would clear up all this scandal about poor little -Sammy; I’ve waited three weeks and you don’t ask -me. I wonder if you’re human, Caleb Trench?”</p> - -<p>Trench swung around and faced him. The expression -of his face, its power and its mastery and -self-control had never been more poignant. “Dr. -Cheyney,” he said, “it doesn’t concern me; let them -say what they please.”</p> - -<p>“On my soul!” said Dr. Cheyney, “I won’t tell -you! You’re too pesky proud to live. I reckon -they’ll say all you want and more too, young man.”</p> - -<p>“Let them!” said Caleb.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[260]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XXVIII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">IT was two days after this that Judge Hollis came -into Caleb’s little office and found him at work -in his shirt sleeves. The table and desk were -covered with papers and open telegrams. The judge -eyed the place critically. Order showed in the neat -pigeonholes and the rows of packed shelves.</p> - -<p>“In two years you’ll have me beat,” remarked the -judge, “then I’ll take down my shingle.”</p> - -<p>Caleb smiled wearily. “You forget that this only -shows how far behindhand I am,” he replied; “you -were never on trial for your life, Judge.”</p> - -<p>The old man shook his head. “No,” he said, “and -I was never the most conspicuous figure in the State. -Caleb, you’ve been threatened?”</p> - -<p>“Some letters, yes,” the younger man admitted, -without emotion, “from cranks, I fancy.”</p> - -<p>“No,” said the judge flatly, “there’s feeling. -Some of these ignorant people have got a notion -that your campaign against Eaton, your attack on -his company, destroyed his credit and drove him to -the wall. They’ve got the idea that he’d have saved -himself, and their investments, if you’d let him be. -They’re wild about it; money loss goes to the quick, -when a man can’t pay for his bacon he wants a scapegoat.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[261]</span> -The better sort know it’s not your doing, and, -I’ll say it for ’em, the newspapers have been decent, -but there’s feeling, Caleb; you’d better go armed.”</p> - -<p>Caleb laughed. “Judge, I was bred a Quaker. I -only used my pistol here in self-defense; I never -went out with one in my pocket in my life.”</p> - -<p>The judge rubbed his chin. “You’d better now,” -he remarked shortly.</p> - -<p>Caleb leaned back in his chair and looked out of -the window thoughtfully. “I wonder what my -father would have said to his son carrying weapons?” -he reflected, amused.</p> - -<p>“Good deal better than to get a hole in you,” the -judge retorted; “you know how to use it!”</p> - -<p>Trench colored. “My blood was up, Judge,” he -said, “a mob’s a cowardly thing; I never felt such -disgust in my life.”</p> - -<p>“Humph!” ejaculated the judge eloquently.</p> - -<p>Caleb smiled involuntarily. “I don’t think there’s -any danger,” he said pleasantly.</p> - -<p>“Of course not!” snapped the judge. “Trench, -why don’t you clear up this talk about that kid in -yonder? Cheyney knows who the father is; make -him tell. By the Lord Harry,” he added, thumping -the table with his fist, “I wanted it out in court.”</p> - -<p>Caleb Trench turned slightly away, his face inscrutable. -“Judge,” he said, “I wouldn’t stir a -finger. I took in the kid just as I took in the dog. -Let them talk.”</p> - -<p>The judge stared at him angrily, uncomprehendingly.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[262]</span> -“I reckon you’re a crank,” he said; “you’re -worse than David Royall.”</p> - -<p>“How is the colonel to-day?” Caleb asked, to -change the subject; he knew, for he had asked Dr. -Cheyney over the telephone.</p> - -<p>“He’s better,” retorted the judge shortly; “you’re -not, and you’ll be worse if you don’t watch out. -There are snakes in the grass.”</p> - -<p>Caleb smiled. “Judge,” he said, “if I listened to -any one in the world I would to you; I’m not -ungrateful.”</p> - -<p>“Nonsense!” retorted the judge, and jammed his -hat down harder than usual.</p> - -<p>At the door he stopped and waved his cane aggressively. -“I’ve warned you,” he said harshly, “and -if you were not an idiot, sir, you’d make Cheyney -speak. It’s some dratted crank of his about his -professional honor!”</p> - -<p>“How about a lawyer’s, Judge?” asked Caleb, -amused.</p> - -<p>“Humph!” grunted the old man, and went out -and slammed the door.</p> - -<p>Later that afternoon business took Caleb up to -Cresset’s Corners to see Aaron Todd. He had been -twice to Broad Acres to inquire for Colonel Royall -without seeing Diana; he had refrained from asking -for her. Dr. Cheyney had told him that she would -not leave her father, and he knew that, as yet, he -could scarcely express all he felt about the ordeal -of her testimony. He had forborne to account for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[263]</span> -that time to spare her the publicity of the witness-stand, -and his very silence only made her evidence -more significant. To see her and thank her without -saying all that was in his heart was no easy matter. -He had driven back his love for her, and battled -against it, denied it a right to exist, because he knew -that she regarded him as an inferior. But now, by -her own act, when she acknowledged him as her -friend and defended him at the cost of a hundred -uncharitable rumors, it seemed that he might have -misunderstood her natural pride of birth and affluence -for a repugnance to his poverty. When their -eyes met in the court-room with that inevitable -shock of mutual feeling that leaves a startled certainty -behind it, he had felt almost sure that she loved -him. But since then he had plunged back again into -his old doubts, arguing that her testimony had been -merely a matter of duty, and that his own feeling -had deceived him into imagining that her heart was -likewise touched. He had no right to suppose that -her evidence was otherwise than involuntary, the -exact rendering of the truth to save a man’s life. If -he went further and believed that she loved him, he -was overstepping the bounds of probability. Love -is an involuntary passion, says an honored moralist: -we cannot help it, but we can starve it out. And -Caleb had set himself to starve it out but it may be -said that he found the battle an unequal one. He -was like a man who had walked persistently, and of -his own choice, in a sullen fog, and saw suddenly,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[264]</span> -through a vast rent in the mist, the golden sunshine -of another day. The fog of his doubts and his unbelief -had lifted on that afternoon in court, only to -settle down again in denser gloom.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, the tumult of battle went on. He was -once more leading the anti-Eaton forces, leading them -triumphantly now, and crash after crash in financial -circles told of the complete collapse of that bubble -which had been called the Eaton Investment Company. -There is no keener incentive to anger than -money loss, as Judge Hollis said; there were many -who cried out against Caleb as the instigator of an -investigation which had culminated in almost universal -ruin in the county. The wave of popularity -that had swept around him at the hour of his acquittal -was receding, and leaving him beached on the sands -of public criticism.</p> - -<p>None of these things, however, greatly troubled the -man himself; he pursued his course with the same -determination with which he had begun it. He had -foreseen unpopularity and met it with unshaken -purpose. What immediately concerned him was his -plain duty, and his experience at the time of his -arrest and trial had inspired him with a pessimistic -unbelief in the clamorous plaudits of the masses. -For, in a day, he had dropped from the height of the -popularity of his Cresset speech to the degradation -of a despised and suspected prisoner. Like all those -who have tasted the vicissitudes of life, they had no -longer the same terrors for him. He was stronger in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[265]</span> -his position now than ever, his reputation was already -growing beyond the borders of the State, but he was -less popular in doing an unwelcome duty than he had -been as the exponent of the new theories of investigation. -A vivid recollection of all that had passed -in the last few weeks stirred his mind as he walked up -the trail to Broad Acres. Shot, who had become -devoted to Sammy, had followed him only a little -way and then returned to his new playmate, so Caleb -was alone. He had avoided the road and ascended -the trail, because the woodland solitudes left his -mind free to his own meditations, and the bleak and -russet aspect of the woods, the naked trees and the -brown leaves underfoot, in some delicate and subtle -manner, harmonized with his sober mood. The keen -blue of the river below him and the purple of the distant -hills rested his eyes. He swung on, his long easy -stride carrying him fast, and in a few moments he -saw Kingdom-Come leaning on the fence at the side -of the Broad Acres vegetable garden. The negro -was stripping the leaves off a cauliflower and gazing -curiously at Caleb Trench.</p> - -<p>“How’s the colonel?” Caleb asked, stopping a -moment, and his glance wandered toward the old -house where even the jingo tree had dropped its last -golden leaves upon the grass.</p> - -<p>“He’s bettah, suh,” said Kingdom, “so de doctah -says. I’se not so sure; seems mighty po’ly ter me, -Mistah Trench.”</p> - -<p>Caleb remembered that a negro never admits perfect<span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[266]</span> -health and felt reassured. “Say to the colonel -that I would be glad to be of any service to him,” he -said, and wanted to add Diana’s name but restrained -the impulse.</p> - -<p>“I sho will, Mistah Trench,” said Kingdom. “Cool -day, suh, gwine ter be cold, too; de moon dun -hangs ter de north.”</p> - -<p>“I suppose that’s an infallible sign,” smiled -Trench, as he turned away.</p> - -<p>“Fo’ de Lawd, ain’t yo’ nebber heerd dat?” Kingdom -patted the cauliflower affectionately, having -squared off the remaining green petals. “De moon -hung north means cold, suh, an’ south et means hot, -jest ez sho’ ez yo’ gets er disappintment ef yo hangs -annything on er doah knob.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll try to remember both signs,” said Caleb -good-naturedly.</p> - -<p>“Miss Diana’s up in de woods,” volunteered the -negro, with that innocence which sits so naturally -on a black face.</p> - -<p>Caleb made no reply this time. He walked on, -choosing the road, nor did he look again toward the -house. He had the unpleasant consciousness that -the negro had read him as easily as he himself read -more profound riddles in the exact sciences.</p> - -<p>He passed the last confines of Broad Acres and -turned, involuntarily, into the trail which led him to -the spot where he had stood months before with -Diana and told her that he loved her. Afterwards -he had wondered at himself, that his pride had not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[267]</span> -revolted at the confession, yet he had never altogether -repented of it. There had been some comfort -in telling her the truth, the naked truth. He recalled -the look in her eyes in the court-room! He put that -thought steadily away and walked rapidly on. Another -turn would show him the long glimpse of Paradise -Ridge. Before him the trail ascended under -sweeping hemlock boughs, beside him the brush rose -breast high. Once he thought he heard a crackle of -twigs and turned sharply, but there was no one in -sight. Then, looking ahead, he saw Diana Royall.</p> - -<p>She was coming down the path alone, and the sunset -sky behind her darkened the outlines of her tall -young figure until it was silhouetted against the sky. -He noticed that her dress was gray and that her large -black hat framed the fair oval of her face. As she -drew nearer he was aware of the gravity and sweetness -of her expression. As yet the distance was too -great for speech and he did not hurry his step; there -was, perhaps, more joy in the thought of this meeting -than in its accomplishment. But he saw nothing but -this picture, the mellow sky behind it, the hemlock -boughs above.</p> - -<p>Then, quite suddenly, he felt a stinging shock and -heard a loud report, as he reeled and fell back into -darkness, the vision going out as though a great black -sponge had effaced life itself.</p> - -<p>Diana rushed to him; she had seen more than he, -but no warning of hers would have reached him in -time, and now she did not think of herself, or of any<span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[268]</span> -possible danger. She dropped on her knees beside -him and bent down to look into his face. His eyes -were closed; she could not tell if he breathed, and -even while she looked she saw a dark red stain on the -breast of his coat. She uttered a low cry, and tried -to raise his head on her arm. She realized at last the -power that his very presence exerted, the influence -that he had had over her from the very first, that had -made her yield again and again to a sense of his -mastery. She loved him. She no longer tried to -deny it to herself, and she felt that it was to her -shame that no accusation against him could shake -her in her devotion. Whatever he had been she -loved him; whatever his faults, in her eyes there -must be, there would be, an extenuation; whatever -his sins she could forgive them! Class prejudice -counted for nothing; she was his, and nothing in the -world mattered to her in that one blind moment of -agony for his life.</p> - -<p>“Oh, God,” she prayed softly, “spare me this!”</p> - -<p>She was in despair, his head lay heavy on her arm, -his blood stained her hands, and she was alone. The -wind stirred and a dead leaf fluttered down. How -still it was! To leave him and run for help seemed -her only resource, but to leave him! She could not -do it! She thought him dead, but not a tear came to -her dry eyes; she looked down at his white face and -marked the lines of trouble and anxiety, the resolution -of the locked mouth and jaw. Did he breathe? -“Oh, God!” she prayed again.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[269]</span>She remembered, too, that it was here that he had -told her so abruptly that he loved her. She, too, remembered -that moment in the court-room, and a -dry sob of anguish shook her from head to foot. She -bent down suddenly and kissed him, but she could -not shed a tear.</p> - -<p>Then, in the stillness, she heard wheels, and laying -him gently down, she ran through the underbrush -and reached the road just below the fork. It was -Dr. Cheyney’s old buggy, and she cried to him that -Caleb Trench was shot and lying wounded in the -trail. The old man got down and followed her without -a word, his lips set. They came up the trail and -found Trench lying as she had left him; he did not -seem to breathe. Dr. Cheyney knelt down and made -a brief examination, then he looked for something to -stop the bleeding. Diana gave him a long light -scarf she had worn around her throat; she was quick -and deft in her touch and worked steadily to help the -doctor; she had mastered herself. The old man -fumbling over Caleb drew out a bit of blood-stained -paper and glanced at it. Then he went on with his -task.</p> - -<p>“Is he living?” Diana murmured at last.</p> - -<p>“I reckon I wouldn’t do this if he wasn’t,” snapped -the doctor. Then he rose from his knees. “You -get into the buggy, Diana, and drive down to the -house for help; telephone to the hospital, we’ll want -a stretcher.”</p> - -<p>“He’s coming to our house,” said Diana.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[270]</span>Dr. Cheyney gave her a grim look. “All right,” -he said, “but a stretcher and two men. I wonder -who in hell did this?” he added fiercely.</p> - -<p>Diana had risen from her knees. “Zeb Bartlett,” -she said. “I saw him too late to cry a warning.”</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney’s face changed sharply. He handed -the paper he had taken from Trench to Diana. “I -reckon that’s yours—now run!” he commanded.</p> - -<p>It seemed hours to Diana before she got help there. -In reality it was twenty minutes. The negroes improvised -a stretcher and carried Caleb solemnly down -the hill and across the long lawns. Diana had gone -ahead to prepare the great west room for him, and -when they brought him in, still unconscious, the -white bed was ready and the long table for the operation, -and she had telephoned for another surgeon -from the hospital. At eight o’clock that night they -had found the bullet and removed it, and there was a -fighting chance for life.</p> - -<p>Diana, who had waited on the stairs to know the -worst, said nothing. In her own room she had looked -at the blood-stained paper which Dr. Cheyney had -so strangely given her. Across it was written her -own name in her bold handwriting. She looked at it -strangely, and then with a stinging sense of shame; -it was the receipt for six cents with which she had -mocked him long ago. And he had carried it all this -time! Diana laid her head down on her arms and -burst into tears.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[271]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XXIX</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">THE agony of the night and the ensuing morning -left Diana feeling lifeless. Her only consolation -was in the fact that her father was -able to be up and in his chair, and by nine o’clock -they had received a message that poor Jinny Eaton -showed signs of recovering her senses. Of Jacob -nothing was heard, to her great relief. A trial and -imprisonment would have capped the climax of -Colonel Royall’s mortification. She did not know -that Dr. Cheyney had saved her that. Nor did she -tell the doctor, nor any one, that she and Kingdom-Come -had gone down the night before to Caleb’s -house to see to the welfare of Sammy and the dog.</p> - -<p>She had found Aunt Charity there and bribed her -heavily to stay over night, but Diana had no faith in -Charity and another project was shaping itself in her -mind. She would have liked to consult her father, -but she could not trouble him and the trials of the -last few months had been developing Diana. All that -was sweet and malleable in the girl’s nature had crystallized -into greater strength, and a greater sweetness, -too; she was no longer a girl, but a woman, and her -greatness of heart showed in the breadth of her charity. -She had sat down in the old leather chair in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[272]</span> -Caleb’s office and lifted Jean Bartlett’s child to her -knee without a shudder of repulsion at that shameful -story. Instead, she touched the child’s head tenderly -and crooned over it, womanlike. Oh, if Caleb -could have seen her in the old worn chair!</p> - -<p>Her own thoughts were filled with him to the exclusion -of everything else on earth. She was almost -frightened at the strength of her feeling for him, he -seemed even to put aside her anxiety for her father, -his life was her one passionate petition to Heaven. -And she was conscious now that she wanted not only -his life, but his love.</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney had installed a trained nurse, and there -was a young surgeon from the hospital in charge. -Diana’s only privilege was to go to the door and inquire, -and wait upon the doctors. She did this to -the exclusion of the negroes, who considered it their -duty to remonstrate with Miss Diana. In the afternoon -Dr. Cheyney told her that Caleb had borne the -operation so well that there was much hope. Then -Diana went out bareheaded into the deserted grounds -and wandered about them aimlessly, trying to regain -her natural composure.</p> - -<p>They had arrested Zeb Bartlett, and he had given -his sister’s disgrace as his reason for shooting Caleb,—a -belated vengeance, but one that suited the public -appetite for scandal. Diana had heard it unmoved. -In that dreadful moment when he lay at her feet, -seemingly dead, she had forgotten Jean Bartlett, and -even now, nothing in the world mattered to her but<span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">[273]</span> -his life. Her face flushed with shame for her own indifference, -the deadening of every instinct but her -agonizing anxiety for his life. She had learned that -love is greater than judgment and as great as mercy. -She walked slowly along the path between the box-bordered -flower-beds; here and there a late rose -bloomed in the autumn sunshine, and in the arbor -the great ungathered clusters of grapes hung purple, -sweetened by frost.</p> - -<p>Before her was the same vista which showed from -the Shut Room, and she saw the river. That view recalled -the room and the days her father had sat there -before his illness, and she thought of her mother with -that vague sweet regret with which we think of the -unknown dead whom we would have loved. Then -she looked up and saw a woman coming toward her -from the gate. She was a stranger, yet Diana was -instinctively aware of a familiarity in her bearing -and her gait. She stood waiting for her approach, -looking keenly at her face, which was beautiful -though it looked a little haggard and worn. The -woman came on, looking eagerly, in her turn, at -Diana. For one so apparently wealthy and at ease, -her manner was almost timid; there was a hesitation -even in its eagerness as though she feared her -welcome. The girl saw it and was faintly surprised. -In another moment the stranger was in front of her, -and she saw that she breathed like a person who had -been running or was in great trepidation. She stopped, -and involuntarily her hand went to her heart.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">[274]</span>“You are Diana Royall,” she said abruptly.</p> - -<p>Diana looked at her gently, vaguely alarmed, -though at what she could not divine. Her first -thought, strangely enough, was a message from -Jacob, and her manner grew cold. “Yes,” she said -quietly, “I am Diana Royall; can I do anything for -you?”</p> - -<p>The stranger hesitated; then her natural manner, -which was full of self-command, asserted itself. “I -am Mrs. Fenwick. I know you do not know me, -but”—she glanced down the long garden path—“will -you walk with me a moment?” she said. “I -have something to say to you.”</p> - -<p>Diana assented reluctantly. Her own heart was -behind the half-closed shutters in that upper room, -and at another time she would have thought the request -at once remarkable and unwarranted. They -turned and walked together down the garden path, -and as Diana stooped to unlatch the wicket gate -which shut off the rose garden from the larger grounds, -her companion shaded her eyes with her hand and -looked off toward the river.</p> - -<p>“There have been some changes in this view, I -think,” she said abruptly, her eyes on the landscape; -“the river was more obscured by trees.”</p> - -<p>“The railroad cut cleared a bit of forest and gave -us a finer view,” replied Diana, and then she glanced -quickly at her visitor, who was evidently familiar with -the prospect.</p> - -<p>“I thought so,” said Mrs. Fenwick softly, “this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">[275]</span> -view is familiar; it is the same that one sees from -your mother’s old room.”</p> - -<p>Diana stood still, with her hand on the wicket. -“Did you know my mother?” she asked quickly.</p> - -<p>The older woman turned and looked fully at her. -She had been very beautiful in her first youth, and -Diana was conscious of a charm at once subtle and -persuasive. “Is your mother dead?” she asked -gently.</p> - -<p>The girl was deeply perplexed. “She died twenty -years ago,” she replied.</p> - -<p>“She died twenty years ago?” her visitor repeated -dreamily, looking away again. “It may be so! She -may have died to this life here, to this place, to these -people, but believe me, Diana, she is not dead.”</p> - -<p>They had passed through the wicket and were -standing on the lower lawn. Instinctively Diana -drew further away from her; she did not understand -her, and she disliked her familiarity, but as yet she -was unalarmed. “My mother died in that room up -there,” she said, with gentle dignity, “and my father -has mourned her ever since, and has taught me to -mourn her, too.”</p> - -<p>A deep flush passed over Mrs. Fenwick’s face, and -her hands trembled a little as they hung clasped before -her. Diana, watching her, noticed it and noticed -the grace of her pose. The girl thought that the elder -woman never forgot herself, that her actions, even her -gestures, were considered, that there was something -artificial in them, yet her emotion was evident and -unfeigned.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">[276]</span>“It was good of him,” said Mrs. Fenwick slowly, -“it was, I suppose, a beautiful idea, but it was an -untruthful one. Diana, I am your mother.”</p> - -<p>Diana thought her mad. She drew away from her -again, and this time with instinctive repugnance, yet -she was pitiful. This was evidently a delusion; the -woman was insane and to be pitied and dealt with -compassionately.</p> - -<p>“You are mistaken, Mrs. Fenwick,” she said gently; -“my mother is dead.”</p> - -<p>“I tell you that I am your mother!” cried Letty, -with sudden passion. “Your mother never died; she -was wicked, she ran away from your father and from -you with another man. I am that wretched woman, -Diana; forgive me!”</p> - -<p>“I think you are quite mad,” said Diana coldly; “I -am sure you are.”</p> - -<p>“Good God, she will not believe me!” Letty exclaimed; -“how wonderful the web of deception must -have been; I did not know before that David Royall -was a liar!”</p> - -<p>“Silence!” Diana towered. “Do not dare to say -one word against my father here!” she commanded.</p> - -<p>“Ah, it was for this he wrought so well!” said -Mrs. Fenwick bitterly, “to shut out the sinner. -Diana, forgive me, look at me; is there no likeness -in my face to my own picture? There was a large -one of me in my first youth. Don’t you know me?”</p> - -<p>Diana was very pale. “There is no picture of my -mother,” she said deliberately, “and I do not believe -you are my mother.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">[277]</span>Letty Fenwick looked at her despairingly. She had -come with the mad impulse of affection, long pent up -in her warped and passionate heart; she had wanted -her daughter, and she had never dreamed that her -daughter would not want her. That, instead, the -girl’s outraged feelings would leap up in defense of -the deserted father; that, never having known a living -mother, her mind had created an image at once -beautiful and noble, and that this revelation shocked -every instinct of her nature. The older woman was -vividly aware of the girl’s instinctive aversion, of her -reluctance to acknowledge her dawning conviction, -and in that very reluctance Letty read her own exile -and defeat. She was, indeed, dead. Colonel Royall’s -curious way of guarding her secret from her daughter -had absolutely estranged her forever. He had accomplished -through forbearance and love what he -could never have accomplished through passion and -revenge; she was forever dead to her own child. This, -then, was the punishment. She stood looking at Diana -in a kind of dull despair.</p> - -<p>“You are very beautiful,” she said, “more beautiful -than I was at your age, Diana, and I thank Heaven -that you will not be like me. You are stronger, braver, -less foolish. I was both foolish and wicked; I deserted -you, but, oh, my child, I suffered for it! And -I am asking for so little now,—your love, that I may -see you sometimes, your forgiveness!”</p> - -<p>Her voice was full of pleading; it had a sweetness, -too, at once touching and eloquent. Diana returned<span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">[278]</span> -her look sadly. Conviction had been growing in her -heart; a hundred little things sprang to mind to confirm -this strange story,—hints, suggestions of Jinny -Eaton’s, inexplicable actions of her father. It might -be true, but she was appalled at the stillness of her -heart. She had loved her mother’s memory, but, -confronted with this strange woman, she found no response. -She battled against conviction; the shattering -of her beautiful dream of an ideal mother was -bitter indeed.</p> - -<p>“I cannot believe it!” she exclaimed, “I cannot -believe it!”</p> - -<p>Her mother drew a long breath. “You mean you -will not believe it,” she said quietly, “because you -would rather repudiate the sinner! I do not blame -you. But it is true, I am your mother.” She broke -off, her parched lips quivered, but she shed no tears. -“Diana,” she said after a moment, “thank God that -you are not like me—and forgive me.”</p> - -<p>“I cannot believe you!” reiterated Diana.</p> - -<p>But as she spoke they both saw Dr. Cheyney crossing -the lawn to the house, and her mother beckoned -to him. The old man came reluctantly, instinctively -aware of the cause of the summons.</p> - -<p>“Dr. Cheyney,” Mrs. Fenwick said with forced -composure, “tell Diana that I am her mother.”</p> - -<p>The old man stood with his hand at his chin; he -was very pale. Diana looked up and met his eyes, -and a slow painful blush went up to her hair.</p> - -<p>“She is your mother,” said the doctor abruptly, and -turned his back.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">[279]</span>As he walked away Letty Fenwick held out both -hands pleadingly. “Diana,” she said softly, “will -you kiss me?”</p> - -<p>The hot tears came into Diana’s eyes and fell slowly -on her pale cheeks. “Mother!” she said, in a choked -voice.</p> - -<p>Her mother caught her in her arms and kissed her. -“My child!” she murmured, “my child, can you forgive -me?”</p> - -<p>Diana could not speak, her mother was weeping. -“Dear girl,” she said, “I’m rich, I know your father’s -in trouble; let me help you, come to me. Oh, Diana, -I have longed for you!”</p> - -<p>“And leave my father?” Diana’s pale face was -stern. “Leave him in sorrow and loss and loneliness? -Never!”</p> - -<p>“Ah!” said her mother bitterly, “you love him; -it is he who has all your heart!”</p> - -<p>“I love him dearly,” said the girl, “now more than -ever.”</p> - -<p>Letty turned away. “He is revenged!” she said -passionately.</p> - -<p>Diana took a step nearer and laid her hand on her -arm. “Mother,” she said quietly, “I will try to love -you also, but remember that for twenty years I have -known only a beautiful image of you that his love -erected to save your memory for me. But I will try -to love you, I will certainly come to see you, I will -do anything I can, but only on one condition—”</p> - -<p>“My God!” cried Letty passionately, “you make<span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">[280]</span> -a condition? You bargain with me—I must beg for -and buy your love?”</p> - -<p>“No,” replied Diana, “love you cannot buy, but I -will do all I can, if you will promise me never to let -this great sorrow mar his life again, if you will help -me guard him, if you will remember how beautifully -he shielded your name for your child.”</p> - -<p>Letty covered her face with her hands. “Alas!” -she said, “you have found a way to punish me, but -I promise, Diana.”</p> - -<p>“He has been ill,” Diana went on hurriedly, “he -has been in trouble, he needs me every moment, and -I love him dearly; for his sake, because he wishes it, -I love you also.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Fenwick still wept; involuntarily they turned -together and walked slowly toward the gate. “I -want to see him,” she said at last, “I want to ask his -forgiveness.”</p> - -<p>“You have it,” said Diana simply. “I dare not -take you to him now, not to-night. Dr. Cheyney -must tell him, I—I cannot. But his forgiveness, it -is yours already.”</p> - -<p>Letty looked back over the house. A thousand -haunting memories swept over her, and she shivered. -“Diana,” she said, “I am rich, I must help you -now.”</p> - -<p>Diana’s pale face crimsoned; her father’s honor -had never seemed more sacred to her. “No,” she said -simply, “you cannot.”</p> - -<p>Her mother met her eyes and turned away abruptly.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">[281]</span> -At the gate she put out her hand blindly and touched -Diana’s; the girl took it and kissed her.</p> - -<p>“Forgive me—mother!” she murmured.</p> - -<p>Letty clung to her a moment and then turned to -go out alone. “My sin has found me out!” she -cried bitterly, and dropped her veil over her face.</p> - -<p>Diana, standing in the gate, watched her go away -alone. In her own anguish she was scarcely conscious -of the tragic picture of the exile. In moments so -poignant with feeling the great lesson of life is lost. -Diana had instinctively obeyed the impulse of love -and duty, for once irreconcilable with mercy, and -she was unaware that she had been an instrument of -one woman’s punishment. She went back to the -house and found her father alone. Every impulse -of her heart clamored to tell him that she knew, to -sympathize, to go to him for comfort, as she had all -her life. But he looked up as she entered.</p> - -<p>“Diana,” he said gently, “you look to-day as your -mother did at your age.”</p> - -<p>Diana slipped down on the arm of his chair and -threw her arms around his neck. “Was she beautiful, -father?” she asked quietly.</p> - -<p>“Very, dear, like you,” he said; for twenty years -he had woven his simple romance.</p> - -<p>Diana laid her cheek against his. “Thank you, -dear,” she said, “for her memory—we will always -love it together.”</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">[282]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XXX</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">WHEN Dr. Cheyney came down-stairs he -found Colonel Royall alone, and he was -able to reassure him about the patient in -the west room.</p> - -<p>“He’s going to live,” he said; “he’s had a close -squeak, but he’ll pull through unless something else -happens. Lucky thing, too, for Zeb Bartlett.”</p> - -<p>“That poor boy is an idiot,” said the colonel reflectively. -“I can’t see what he did it for?”</p> - -<p>“Mad at Caleb for one thing,” said Dr. Cheyney, -“has been for some time because he couldn’t beg -from him all the while. Then he was set on, had a -pistol given him, I reckon.”</p> - -<p>“Eh?” exclaimed the colonel, startled.</p> - -<p>“Reckon so,” said the doctor mildly; he did not -add that in the Commonwealth attorney’s office it -was known to be Jacob Eaton’s pistol; “got some -fool notion about his sister.”</p> - -<p>“That’s a pretty bad business,” said Colonel -Royall.</p> - -<p>“Quite so!” agreed the doctor dryly.</p> - -<p>At that moment the door opened and Diana came -in; she was leading a child by the hand, and a dog -followed her. Dr. Cheyney took off his spectacles.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">[283]</span>“I’ll be jiggered!” he said abruptly.</p> - -<p>Colonel Royall smiled faintly. “She would have -her way,” he said apologetically. “I objected, but -Diana rules the roost.”</p> - -<p>Diana’s sad eyes met the doctor’s with a flash of -humor. “I shan’t let you stay if you worry him,” -she said.</p> - -<p>The doctor held out his hand to Sammy, but Sammy -refused to leave Diana; he clung to her skirts and hid -his face in the folds.</p> - -<p>“Seems to take kindly to you, Diana,” remarked -the doctor.</p> - -<p>She blushed. “He’s friendly enough,” she explained, -“if you give him pennies.”</p> - -<p>“Wants a penny!” said Sammy instantly, his -tousled yellow head appearing from Diana’s skirt.</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney explored his pockets and found a new -one. “Come and get it,” he said.</p> - -<p>Sammy moved over slowly and doubtfully, taking -two steps backward to one forward every time.</p> - -<p>“Suspicious, eh?” said the doctor, displaying the -penny at a nearer view.</p> - -<p>Sammy fell upon it and ran back to Diana, clasping -it close in his fist.</p> - -<p>“An embryo financier,” said the colonel, musing, -“and the dog isn’t what one would call a prize-winner,” -he added.</p> - -<p>“Caleb took ’em both in,” said the doctor; “he’s -made that way. After a while we’ll understand -him.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">[284]</span>“Some people say that he had good reason to take -in the boy,” remarked Colonel Royall without malice.</p> - -<p>“Father,” said Diana, “I wouldn’t have believed -it of you, talking scandal, and he’s our guest!”</p> - -<p>“That’s right, keep him down, Diana,” said the -doctor; “the fact is there’s nothing so cruel as -people’s tongues. Now I know Sammy’s father and -sometimes I’m tempted, sore tempted, to go and -post it by the wayside.”</p> - -<p>“I wish you would!” said Diana with sudden -feeling, “it’s only just to—to Mr. Trench.”</p> - -<p>“That’s so—she’s right, William,” said her -father, half smiling.</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney reflected; his lined old face lost -some of its whimsical humor, but it gained in sympathy -and strength. “I’ve held my tongue to shield -others,” he said at last, “to spare the feelings of a -family I love. What would you do about it, David? -Do you think it’s right to plaster a scandal on to -folks?”</p> - -<p>Diana glanced quickly at her father, keenly aware -of his concealment and that this all must touch him -to the quick. The old man looked very old indeed.</p> - -<p>“I don’t think it’s right to let the thing attach -itself to Mr. Trench if you know he’s innocent,” he -said at length.</p> - -<p>“I reckon he’d be satisfied to be justified here,” -said Dr. Cheyney, his eyes resting on Diana as she -bent down and caressed Sammy.</p> - -<p>“You’ll have to make it public to be of any use<span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">[285]</span> -to him now,” said Colonel Royall, “the other story -has been in every newspaper in the State.”</p> - -<p>“I know it,” said Dr. Cheyney, “but, David, it -will come home to you here. Sammy’s father is -Jacob Eaton.”</p> - -<p>There was silence for a few moments, and then -Colonel Royall said: “It is singular that that young -man has managed to inflict so many mortifications -upon his family. Poor Jinny! She was always -quoting him as a pink of propriety.”</p> - -<p>“The result of a mollycoddle,” said the doctor -shortly. “Now you know the facts, David, and it’s -up to you. Shall I tell them?”</p> - -<p>Colonel Royall meditated. “Poor Jinny!” he said -again, “she’s been so proud of him, and now—one -blow on another, no wonder she’s given up. Poor -Jinny!”</p> - -<p>“Father,” said Diana, “we’ve no right to consider -even Cousin Jinny, only Mr. Trench.”</p> - -<p>The force of her conviction showed through her -reserve. She felt that Caleb Trench had borne enough -at the hands of their relatives, and that he should be -the scapegoat of one of Jacob’s sins was too much.</p> - -<p>Colonel Royall raised his bowed head. “She’s -right, William,” he said, pathetically resigned; “tell -it to the world.”</p> - -<p>Dr. Cheyney rose. “Well, it has seemed like -kicking a man who was down,” he remarked, “but, -as Diana says, there is Caleb Trench.”</p> - -<p>Diana followed him out into the hall. “Dr. Cheyney,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">[286]</span> -she said, “why did no one tell me about my -mother?”</p> - -<p>The old man put his hand on her shoulder. -“Diana,” he said, “it was David’s wish, and we all -respected it. I wish”—he paused—“I wish Letty -had not come back. But she wanted to see you. -Natural enough, I reckon, only she ought to have -been natural in that way at first.”</p> - -<p>“It was cruel not to tell me,” said Diana, “but I -will not tell him so—dear father!”</p> - -<p>The doctor looked at her thoughtfully. “You’re -a good girl, Diana,” he said.</p> - -<p>They walked together to the door. “Doctor, do -you believe that—that my mother is unhappy?” -she asked at last. “I could not go to her: I will not -leave him.”</p> - -<p>“Unhappy? No, child, not more so than others,” -said the old man. “She’s got to bear her burden, -Diana, that’s the law of life. Don’t you fret; she’s -rich, courted, influential, I’ve known it for years.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t see how she could treat my father so!” -cried the girl.</p> - -<p>“Thank God, you never will!” said the doctor -with conviction.</p> - -<p>“She wants to see him,” the girl faltered, “I—you—”</p> - -<p>“I’ll tell him,” said William Cheyney.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">[287]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XXXI</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">COLONEL ROYALL was sitting by the great -fireplace in his library. Daylight was failing -fast at the windows, and the long bough of a -hemlock sweeping across the one toward the west -was outlined against the whitening sky. The colonel -watched it as it swayed. Once and awhile he turned -and looked toward the door, his fine old hands tightening -on the carved arms of his chair.</p> - -<p>Twenty years ago he had seen her last in this room, -and he was to see her again to-night. A singular -feeling tightened about his heart. When we have -watched through a long vigil with a great and agonizing -sorrow, when we have rebelled against it, and -battled and fought with the air, in our vain outcry -against its injustice, when we have longed and wept -and prayed for release in vain, and then, at last, have -laid it in its ashes and stood beside that open grave, -which yawns sooner or later in every past, then—the -coming of its ghost is bitter with the bitterness of -death.</p> - -<p>It was the coming of the ghost for which Colonel -Royall waited in the gathering dusk, the ghost who -must walk over the white ashes of his love and his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">[288]</span> -outraged honor. For twenty years he had hidden -the mother’s sin from the daughter, he had made her -memory sweet to her child. And his requital? She -had tried to rob him of that one comfort of his life, -to take his daughter away, to estrange them in his -hour of need. In that hour even that gentle and -simple heart knew its own bitterness. He recalled -every incident of that unhappy past, he recalled her -beauty and her indifference; again and again he had -questioned himself, had the fault been his? He had -loved much and forgiven much, yet it might be that -he had given her cause for weariness. Had the narrow -routine of life which made his happiness fretted -her? If he had let her spread her butterfly wings in -other and gayer climes, would she have been more -content to return at last? Perhaps,—he did not -know.</p> - -<p>Fallacious thought! No human being can hold -captive another’s will except by that one magic -talisman, and love for David Royall had never really -lived in his wife’s heart. Marriage to some women -is a brilliant fête, and a preventive of the reproach -which they fondly believe would attach to them in -single-blessedness; marriage is a poultice for the ills -of society, and the latch-key to the social front door, -permitting more freedom of entrance and exit. Yet -it is a poultice which some are exceedingly anxious to -tear off after a short application. The young and -beautiful Letty had tried it twice and was still suffering -from its effects; she had found it, in both instances,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_289">[289]</span> -grown cold and lumpy. Yet, so adorable had -been her youthful ways, so sweet and engaging her -manner, that this poor man, who had been the husband -of her youth, sat in the twilight, searching his -heart again for reasons for her discontent, no living -man having really mastered the ways of woman.</p> - -<p>Night had fallen in the room, but the hemlock -bough was still outlined against the pane, for the -moon was rising. Presently, Kingdom-Come came -in softly and lit the tall old candelabrum on the mantel; -he was going on, with a noiseless step, to the -other lights, but the colonel stopped him.</p> - -<p>“Has no one come yet?” he asked, as the negro, -leaving the lamps, arranged the fire.</p> - -<p>“Not yet, Marse David.”</p> - -<p>The colonel sighed inaudibly, and Kingdom retreated, -not over pleased. He, too, knew that some -one was expected. He had been with the Royalls -from his birth.</p> - -<p>A light step came down the hall, and the colonel -held his breath. It was Diana, but she did not come -in; he heard her ascending the stairs. Then, in the -long silence, the hall clock chimed seven, the outer -door opened, and the colonel again heard steps come -across the tessellated floor of the old hall. His long -white hands tightened on the arms of his chair, the -ghost of his happiness was coming! He had loved -greatly, he was to look again on the face of her who, -loving him not, had betrayed him. Kingdom opened -the library door, stood aside for her, and closed it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_290">[290]</span> -behind her. After twenty years they stood here -alone together—face to face.</p> - -<p>The colonel shaded his eyes and looked into the -fire; the grave of his love yawned deep, a shudder -ran through him. Letitia had remained standing -by the door, the mature elegance of her figure, the -slightly bent head, recalled nothing when he finally -looked up. She had left him a mere girl; she returned -a worn woman of the world; the suggestions of her -past, gay and unhappy, seemed to penetrate the -classic mask of her still beautiful face. He knew her -even less than Dr. Cheyney. He made an attempt -to rise, failed and, sinking back, motioned her to a -seat.</p> - -<p>She took it without a word, turning her face aside -to avoid the light of that one tall candelabrum. In -the old room, facing the man who had aged so greatly -in these heavy years, she was ashamed. She had -planned a dozen glib speeches, but her parched lips -refused to utter them. She put her ungloved hand -to her throat with a gesture that was like one who -struggled for breath, and Colonel Royall noticed the -flash of the jewels that she wore on her slender -fingers. A little thing will sometimes turn the balance -of thought, and the flash of Letty’s jewels -recalled her former husband to himself. He remembered -the divorce and her marriage. Between them -the white ashes of the past fell thick as snow. He -could dimly see through them the outlines of her -matured and hardened beauty, and the suggestions<span class="pagenum" id="Page_291">[291]</span> -of that life in which he had played so small a part. -He thanked God devoutly that now they were face -to face he saw no likeness to Diana.</p> - -<p>To the woman, his silence, his wan age, the lines -that suffering had mapped on his proud face, were -unendurable. She spoke at last, leaning toward him, -her clasped hands trembling on her knee. “David, I -have come to ask your forgiveness.”</p> - -<p>The colonel returned her look with a new sad serenity. -“It’s a long time to wait,” he said.</p> - -<p>She made a little involuntary movement, as if she -wanted to go to him, for she pitied him all at once, -with the same sweep of emotion that she had once abhorred -him, loving another man. “I have wanted it -for twenty years,” she said, and then added impulsively: -“I did not half understand how much you -loved me—until I heard how you had hidden it all -from Diana. At first I was angry, I thought you did -it to estrange her from the thought of her mother. -Then I realized that you were covering my disgrace, -and—and it has broken down my pride!” She -stopped with a little sob. “David, will you forgive -me?”</p> - -<p>“I forgave you twenty years ago, Letitia,” he replied; -“you are Diana’s mother.”</p> - -<p>The woman looked at him longingly. “She has -been—she is much to you?”</p> - -<p>“She is all I have,” said Colonel Royall.</p> - -<p>The shamed tears welled up in her splendid eyes, -her lip trembled like a child’s. “I have nothing!”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_292">[292]</span> -she sobbed wildly; “I am bankrupt!” and she -dropped her head on her hands.</p> - -<p>He looked over at her with compassion, once he -passed his hand lightly across his eyes. He felt the -absolute restraint that comes to one whose love has -been lightly prized; he was nothing to her, it was not -for him to comfort her, while Letitia, cowering in -her chair, thought him cold-hearted, unforgiving, a -proud Royall to the core. Thus are we misinterpreted -by those who love us not.</p> - -<p>“She cares nothing for me!” she sobbed, “you -have taught her to love a dead woman!”</p> - -<p>“I would gladly have taught her to love her -mother,” the colonel said quietly, “but how could I -begin the lesson? By telling her that you had deserted -her?”</p> - -<p>She rose at that and stood looking at him, through -her tears. “You have had your revenge!” she said -wildly, “you have had it a thousand times over in -that one reproach.”</p> - -<p>“Letitia,” he said gently, “I never desired revenge. -I would have chastised the man who injured -me and dishonored you, if I could have done it without -dragging your name before the world. Other -revenge I never sought.”</p> - -<p>“You have it!” she cried again bitterly, “you -have it; Diana despises me, I read it in her clear -eyes. You have brought her up to hate her mother’s -sin, so that when she knew it she would hate her -mother.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_293">[293]</span>The fine old hands tightened convulsively on the -carved arms of his chair. “Would you have had me -bring her up to condone such sins?” he asked her -sternly, his blue eyes kindling.</p> - -<p>The shaft went home; its truth bit into her sore -heart. “No,” she breathed, hiding her face in her -hands, shaking from head to foot.</p> - -<p>There was a long silence and then her voice. “I -can bear no more!”</p> - -<p>He averted his eyes; her struggle hurt him deeply. -Now and then he saw her as she used to be; little reminders -of her youth, her early beauty, her gayety, -crept through the change in her. His own vision -was dimmed with tears. After a while she grew -more calm, and began to gather up her belongings, -her gloves, her purse, the boa that had slipped from -her shoulders, with those little familiar gestures that -are a part of a woman’s individuality, and yet all -women share them. She was gathering up the mantle -of her worldliness, putting on the worn mask of -conventionality.</p> - -<p>“I am going,” she said, in a low voice that thrilled -with feeling, “I shall never see you again. Will you -forgive me, David? I sinned and—I have suffered, -I am suffering still.”</p> - -<p>With an effort the old man rose and held out his -hand. In the gesture was all the stately courtesy of -his race and his traditions. “I forgave you long ago,” -he said.</p> - -<p>She took his hand a moment, looked into his face,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_294">[294]</span> -and read there the death warrant of every hope she -had that the trouble might be bridged, her daughter -come back to her. Her lips quivered and her shoulders -rose and fell with her quick breathing.</p> - -<p>“Thank you,” she said, and passed slowly down -the room to the door.</p> - -<p>A log fell on the hearth, and the blaze, shooting up a -tongue of flame, illumined the colonel’s gaunt figure -and whitened his face. At the door Letitia turned -and looked her last upon the man she had wronged, -who had forgiven her and yet, through the love of -his daughter, had so deeply smitten her.</p> - -<p>She went out weeping and alone.</p> -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum" id="Page_295">[295]</span> - -<h2 class="nobreak">XXXII</h2> -</div> - -<p class="drop-cap">THREE weeks later Judge Hollis found Caleb -able to walk about the library. The wound -had healed, but the fever and the struggle for -life had told. His tall figure was more gaunt than -ever, and there were deep hollows in his cheeks. He -had prevailed with Judge Hollis to get the case -against Zeb Bartlett dismissed; the boy was half an -idiot, and the story of Jacob Eaton’s pistol and the -money that Jacob had given him before he fled, were -too choice bits to get into the newspapers. Dr. Cheyney -had put down the scandal which made Zeb’s shot -a revenge for Jean, and there was an effort now to -make things easy for poor Jinny Eaton, who had -gone to relatives in Virginia, still bewailing Jacob and -the influx of anarchists, which seemed to her to be -the real root of the trouble, as these incendiaries must -have stirred up the investigation which had wrecked -Jacob before he had time to recover his investments. -For years she spoke of these alien influences which -must be responsible even for the fluctuations on Wall -Street. Meanwhile, Jacob had escaped to South -America, and was heard of later as a financier in -Buenos Ayres.</p> - -<p>Judge Hollis announced his escape to Caleb.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_296">[296]</span>“Got off with a cool million, I reckon,” said the -judge grimly; “by the Lord Harry, I wish I could -have laid him by the heels.”</p> - -<p>Caleb smiled faintly. He was leaning back in a -big armchair by the fire, and the window before him -commanded a view of the mountain trail where he -had told Diana that he loved her. He had not yet -recovered from the miracle of finding himself under -Colonel Royall’s roof. He glanced now about the -room and noticed the fine air of simplicity and comfort; -the deep-seated leather chairs, the old mahogany -table, the portraits of Colonel Royall’s mother and -his grandfather in the uniform of the Colonial Army -on the walls. On the table was a great cluster of -roses from Diana’s hothouses. “I am glad Jacob -went,” he said quietly.</p> - -<p>“Of course!” said the judge with sarcasm, “it’s -my belief that William Cheyney warned him in time. -It’s like the old fool!”</p> - -<p>“Dear Dr. Cheyney!” said Caleb warmly.</p> - -<p>“Dear Dr. Fiddlesticks!” snapped the judge. “I -reckon I know William; we played alleys together -when we were boys and I licked him about as often -as he licked me.”</p> - -<p>“The eternal bond of friendship,” smiled Caleb.</p> - -<p>“He’s got off Jacob and you got off Zeb Bartlett,” -grumbled the judge, “and if you keep on, at your -present gait, you’ll be governor of this State in two -years. Then I suppose you and the doctor will empty -the penitentiary.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_297">[297]</span>Caleb laughed. “I’ll get your help,” he said, -“your heart isn’t as hard as you pretend it is.”</p> - -<p>“A good many people think I haven’t got one,” -said the judge; “I reckon they don’t let you see the -papers yet?”</p> - -<p>Caleb shook his head.</p> - -<p>The judge grinned. “And yesterday was the first -Tuesday in November. Drat ’em, I call that hard! -I’ll tell you,” he leaned forward, his fingers on Caleb’s -knee, “the Republicans carried the State by a plurality -of ten thousand; Peter Mahan is elected.”</p> - -<p>Caleb’s amazement kept him silent.</p> - -<p>“Your fault, sir!” said the judge triumphantly, -“you ripped the Democracy in two, showed the machine, -convicted the governor. By the Lord Harry, -boy, I voted the Republican ticket!”</p> - -<p>Caleb wrung the old man’s hand. “Now I know -you love me, Judge!” he said.</p> - -<p>It was then that the door opened and Diana appeared -on the threshold, bearing a little tray, Sammy -at her skirts and Shot trailing behind her. “Judge,” -she said, “the doctor’s orders—twenty minutes and -no politics!”</p> - -<p>The judge got up and reached for his hat and cane. -“I’m guilty, Diana!” he cried.</p> - -<p>“Then you’ll have to go,” she said, and smiled -across at the patient.</p> - -<p>It was only the third time Caleb had seen her, and -he did not know how often she had hung over him in -agony when he lay unconscious. Diana, meeting his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_298">[298]</span> -eyes, turned crimson. She remembered, with a sudden -panic, that she had kissed him when she thought -that he was dying!</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, the judge went out grumbling. He -was too full of the election to be silenced, and went -to drink a mint julep with Colonel Royall. Diana -came back into the library leading Sammy. The dog -had bounded to his master and lay now on the hearthrug. -Caleb stood by his chair, pale but transformed.</p> - -<p>“You must not stand,” ordered Diana, as she set -down the little tray on the table and began to arrange -his luncheon. “Kingdom is out and I brought you -some lunch myself,” she said simply.</p> - -<p>“You are very good to me,” said Caleb.</p> - -<p>She had turned away, and Sammy, who was devoted -to her, had again appropriated her hand. “You must -not stand,” she repeated, “I will never come here -again if you cannot obey the doctor’s orders.”</p> - -<p>Caleb smiled. “I’d rather obey yours, Miss Royall,” -he said, his eyes following the two figures, the -woman and the child.</p> - -<p>Half-way to the door Diana turned and let go the -child’s detaining fingers, coming toward him as if -with some new resolve. She had never looked more -lovely in his eyes, though to him she had always been -an exquisite picture. The warm flood of November -sunshine filling the room, and the deeper glow on the -hearth touched her and vivified the buoyancy and -freshness of her personality. Her chin was slightly -raised, and the delicate oval of her face glowed with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_299">[299]</span> -feeling; it seemed to him that her eyes were -wonderful.</p> - -<p>“I want to ask your forgiveness,” she said.</p> - -<p>“My forgiveness?” he was taken aback, “you -have done everything for me, been everything to me; -it is I who should ask forgiveness for having been a -burden here.”</p> - -<p>She put aside his thanks with a gesture at once -gracious and significant, and the sweetness of her -smile arrested the words on his lips. “Nevertheless -I ask your pardon,” she said, “for—for my stupidity, -my ignorance, my want of manners long ago, when -you came here to the house and I treated you with -discourtesy. You were always fine; I was hateful. -You must have despised me!”</p> - -<p>He smiled sadly. “I think you know that I did -not,” he said.</p> - -<p>“I deserved it. But since then I have learned to -value your friendship, to honor you for the fight you -have made.”</p> - -<p>He turned toward her; his tall gaunt figure seemed -to have lost some of its awkwardness, and the homely -sweetness of his haggard face had never been more -apparent. “You know,” he paused, and then went -on with deep emotion, “I recognized then, I do still, -the gap between our lives, but it cannot change the -one inevitable fact of my existence, my love for -you.”</p> - -<p>The color rose from her chin to the arch of her -lovely brow, but her lips quivered. “You know that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_300">[300]</span> -we have lost almost all we had, and—about my -mother?”</p> - -<p>“I know,” he said simply, “Dr. Cheyney told me, -and”—he looked suddenly at Sammy and the dog—“your -goodness to these, when you must think—”</p> - -<p>She looked up, and their eyes met. “Did you think -my heart was not big enough for all?” she asked.</p> - -<p>Sudden joy leaped into his face, transfiguring it. -“Diana,” he exclaimed, “is it possible that through -it all, in spite of it all, you love me?”</p> - -<p>She smiled. “I think I always loved you, Caleb,” -she said.</p> - -<p class="center">THE END</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> -<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_logo.jpg" alt=""></div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="center"><i>A Stirring Story of Washington Society</i></p> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="bbox"> -<p class="ph2">THE REAPING</p> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="center"><span class="large">By MARY IMLAY TAYLOR</span></p> - -<p class="center">With Frontispiece in color by George Alfred Williams<br> -12mo. <span class="gap"> Cloth. </span><span class="gap"> $1.50</span></p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<hr class="tiny"> - -<p>A stirring story of political and diplomatic life in -Washington.—<i>Chicago Record-Herald.</i></p> - -<p>An extremely readable novel.... She has pictured the -smart diplomatic set of Washington in interesting colors.—<i>New -York American.</i></p> - -<p>Quite the best picture of Washington life to be found.... -As a study of human passions, it is wonderfully -exact.—<i>Philadelphia Item.</i></p> - -<p>Her characters are very much alive, and her style is at -once vivid and polished. A novel which it is a pleasure -to commend.—<i>Providence Journal.</i></p> - -<p>Cabinet officers, leading senators, and distinguished -diplomats move in these pages and in their official as -well as social functions.—<i>Boston Herald.</i></p> - -<hr class="tiny"> -</div> - -<p class="center">LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., <span class="smcap">Publishers</span><br> -<span class="smcap">34 Beacon Street, Boston</span></p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="center"><i>A Novel that Mirrors Washington Society</i></p> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="bbox"> -<p class="ph2">THE IMPERSONATOR</p> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="center"><span class="large">By MARY IMLAY TAYLOR</span></p> - -<p class="center">Illustrated by Ch. 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A tale -of Washington society reflecting with accuracy certain -aspects of the semi-fast life of the nation’s capital.... -The characters are all strongly individualised and the -action is as swift as it is natural. The impersonator herself -is admirably drawn.—<i>Boston Transcript.</i></p> -<hr class="tiny"> -</div> -<p class="center">LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., <span class="smcap">Publishers</span><br> -<span class="smcap">34 Beacon Street, Boston</span></p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="center"><i>An Old World Tale of Love and Daring</i></p> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="bbox"> -<p class="ph2">MY LADY<br> -CLANCARTY</p> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="center"><span class="large">By MARY IMLAY TAYLOR</span></p> - -<p class="center">Author of “On the Red Staircase,” “The Rebellion -of the Princess,” etc.</p> - -<p class="center">Illustrated in tint by Alice Barber Stephens<br> -12mo. <span class="gap"> 289 pages. </span><span class="gap"> $1.50</span></p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<p>Sparkling and fresh.—<i>Pittsburg Times.</i></p> - -<p>Piquant and dainty.—<i>Albany Argus.</i></p> - -<p>Beautifully written, and the story is most fascinating.—<i>Mrs. -Leslie Carter.</i></p> - -<p>A charming romance of a proscribed Jacobite who returns -to England to claim the wife whom he had not seen since -she was a girl of thirteen.—<i>San Francisco Chronicle.</i></p> - -<p>As fetching a romance as modern fancy has woven about -old threads of fact.—<i>New York World.</i></p> - -<p>The style is at once picturesque and simple, and the -lightly sketched pictures of life in the far days are well -drawn and attractive. Here is a wholesome, vigorous, -stirring, refreshing tale.—<i>Chicago Record-Herald.</i></p> - -<p>An engaging story, swift in action, romantic in spirit, -and picturesque in setting.—<i>Brooklyn Times.</i></p> -<hr class="tiny"> -</div> - -<p class="center">LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., <span class="smcap">Publishers</span>, BOSTON<br> -<i>At all Booksellers’</i></p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p class="center"><i>Mr. Oppenheim’s Latest Novel</i></p> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="bbox"> -<p class="ph2">THE ILLUSTRIOUS<br> -PRINCE</p> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="center"><span class="large">By E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM</span></p> - -<p class="center">Illustrated by Will Foster. <span class="gap"> Cloth. </span><span class="gap"> $1.50</span></p> - -<div class="blockquot"> -<hr class="tiny"> -<p>Mr. Oppenheim’s new story is a narrative of mystery -and international intrigue that carries the reader breathless -from page to page. It is the tale of the secret and -world-startling methods employed by the Emperor of -Japan through Prince Maiyo, his close kinsman, to ascertain -the real reasons for the around-the-world cruise of the -American fleet. The American Ambassador in London -and the Duke of Denvenham, an influential Englishman, -work hand in hand to circumvent the Oriental plot, which -proceeds mysteriously to the last page. From the time -when Mr. Hamilton Fynes steps from the <i>Lusitania</i> into a -special tug, in his mad rush towards London, to the very -end, the reader is carried from deep mystery to tense -situations, until finally the explanation is reached in a -most unexpected and unusual climax.</p> - -<p>No man of this generation has so much facility of expression, -so many technical resources, or so fine a power -of narration as Mr. E. 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