THE MAJESTY OF THE LAW.
A few days after the events narrated in the last two chapters, the
sheriff presented himself at Red Wing. There was a keen, shrewd
look in the cold, gray eyes under the overhanging brows, as he tied
his horse to the rack near the church, and taking his saddle-bags
on his arm, crossed the road toward the residence of Nimbus and
Eliab Hill.
Red Wing had always been a remarkably peaceful and quiet settlement.
Acting under the advice of Miss Ainslie and Eliab, Nimbus had parted
with none of his possessions except upon terms which prevented the
sale of spirituous liquors there. This was not on account of any
"fanatical" prejudice in favor of temperance, since the Squire of
Red Wing was himself not exactly averse to an occasional dram; but
he readily perceived that if such sale could be prohibited in the
little village the chances for peace and order would be greatly
improved. He recognized the fact that those characters that were
most likely to assemble around a bar-room were not the most likely
to be valuable residents of the settlement. Besides the condition
in his own deeds, therefore, he had secured through the members
of the Legislature from his county the passage of an act forever
prohibiting the sale of spirituous liquors within one mile of the
school-house at Red Wing. Just without this limit several little
shanties had been erected where chivalric white men doled out liquor
to the hard-working colored men of Red Wing. It was an easy and an
honorable business and they did not feel degraded by contact with
the freedmen across the bar. The superior race did not feel itself
debased by selling bad whisky at an extravagant price to the poor,
thirsty Africans who went by the "shebangs" to and from their daily
toil. But Nimbus and the law would not allow the nearer approach
of such influences.
By these means, with the active co-operation of the teachers, Red
Wing had been kept so peaceful, that the officers of the law rarely
had occasion to appear within its limits, save to collect the fiscal
dues from its citizens.
It was with not a little surprise, therefore, that Nimbus saw the
stalwart sheriff coming towards him where he was at work upon the
hillside back of his house, "worming" and "topping" a field of
tobacco which gave promise of a magnificent yield.
"Mornin', Nimbus," said the officer, as he drew near, and turning
partially around glanced critically over the field and furtively
at the little group of buildings below. "A fine stand of terbacker
you've got--mighty even, good growth. Don't think I've seen quite
as good-looking a crap this year. There's old man George Price up
about Rouseville, he's got a mighty fine crap--always does have, you
know. I saw it yesterday and didn't think anything could be better,
but your's does beat it, that's sure. It's evener and brighter,
and a trifle heavier growth, too. I told him that if anybody in
the county could equal it you were the man; but I had no idea you
could beat it. This is powerful good land for terbacker, certain."
"'Tain't so much the land," said Nimbus, standing up to his arm-pits
in the rank-leaved crop above which his bare black arms glistened
in the hot summer sun, "as 'tis the keer on't. Powerful few folks
is willin' ter give the keer it takes ter grow an' cure a fine
crop o' terbacker. Ther ain't a minit from the time yer plant the
seed-bed till ye sell the leaf, that ye kin take yer finger offen
it widout resk ob losin' all yer wuk."
"That's so," responded the sheriff, "but the land has a heap to do
with it, after all."
"Ob co'se," said Nimbus, as he broke a sucker into short pieces
between his thumb and finger, "yer's got ter hab de sile; but ther's
a heap mo' jes ez good terbacker lan' ez dis, ef people only hed
the patience ter wuk it ez I do mine."
"Wal, now, there's not so much like this," said the sheriff,
sharply, "and you don't think so, neither. You wouldn't take a big
price for your two hundred acres here now." He watched the other's
countenance sharply as he spoke, but the training of slavery made
the face of the black Ajax simply Sphinx-like in its inscrutability.
"Wal, I don't know," said Nimbus, slowly, "I mout and then again
I moutn't, yer know. Ther'd be a good many pints ter think over
besides the quality of the sile afore I'd want ter say 'yes' er
'no' to an offer ob dat kind."
"That's what I thought," said the sheriff. "You are nicely fixed
here, and I don't blame you. I had some little business with you,
and I'm glad I come to-day and caught ye in your terbacker. It's
powerful fine."
"Business wid me?" asked Nimbus in surprise. "What is it?"
"Oh, I don't know," said the officer, lightly, as he put on his
spectacles, opened his saddle-bags and took out some papers. "Some
of these lawyers have got after you, I suppose, thinking you're
getting along too peart. Let me see," he continued, shuffling over
the papers in his hand. "Here's a summons in a civil action--the
old man, Granville Sykes, against Nimbus Desmit and Eliab Hill.
Where is 'Liab? I must see him, too. Here's your copy," he continued,
handing Nimbus the paper and marking the date of service on the
original in pencil with the careless promptitude of the well-trained
official.
Nimbus looked at the paper which was handed him in undisguised
astonishment.
"What is dis ting, anyhow, Marse Sheriff?" he asked.
"That? Why, that is a summons. Can't you read it? Here, let me take
it."
He read over the legal formulary requiring Nimbus to be and appear
at the court house in Louisburg on the sixth Monday after the second
Monday in August, to answer the demand of the plaintiff against him,
and concluding with the threat that in default of such appearance
judgment would be entered up against him.
"You see, you've got to come and answer old man Granville's
complaint, and after that you will have a trial. You'll have to
get a lawyer, and I expect there'll be smart of fuss about it before
it's over. But you can afford it; a man as well fixed as you, that
makes such terbacker as this, can afford to pay a lawyer right
smart. I've no doubt the old man will get tired of it before you
do; but, after all, law is the most uncertain thing in the world."
"What does it mean? Has he sued me?" asked Nimbus.
"Sued you? I should rather think he had--for a thousand dollars
damages too. That is you and 'Liab, between you."
"But what for? I don't owe him anythin' an' never did."
"Oh, that's nothing. He says you've damaged him. I've forgot what
it's about. Let me see. Oh, yes, I remember now. He says you and
'Liab enticed away his servant--what's his name? that limber-jinted,
whistlin' feller you've had working for you for a spell."
"What, Berry?"
"That's it, Berry--Berry Lawson, That's the very chap. Well, old
Granville says you coaxed him to leave his employ, and he's after
you under the statute."
"But it's a lie--every word on't! I nebber axed Berry ter leave
him, an' hed no notion he was a gwine ter do it till Marse Sykes
throwed him out in de big road."
"Wal, wal, I don't know nothing about that, I'm sure. He says you
did, you say you didn't. I s'pose it'll take a court and jury to
decide betwixt ye. It's none of my concern. Oh, yes," he continued,
"I like to have forgot it, but here's a _capias_ for you,
too--you and 'Liab again. It seems there's a bill of indictment
against you. I presume it's the same matter. I must have a bond on
this for your appearance, so you'd better come on down to 'Liab's
house with me. I'll take you for him, and him for you, as sureties.
I don't suppose 'Liab'll be apt to run away, eh, and you're worth
enough for both."
"What's this all about?" asked Nimbus.
"Well, I suppose the old man Sykes got ye indicted under the statute
making it a misdemeanor, punishable with fine and imprisonment,
to coax, hire, or seduce away one's niggers after he's hired 'em.
Just the same question as the other, only this is an indictment
and that's a civil action--an action under the code, as they call
it, since you Radicals tinkered over the law. One is for the damage
to old man Sykes, and the other because it's a crime to coax off
or harbor any one's hirelings."
"Is dat de law, Mister Sheriff?"
"Oh, yes, that's the law, fast enough. No trouble about that. Didn't
know it, did you? Thought you could go and take a man's "hands"
right out from under his nose, and not get into trouble about it,
didn't ye?"
"I t'ought dat when a man was free anudder could hire him widout
axin' leave of his marster. Dat's what I t'ought freedom meant."
"Oh, not exactly; there's lots of freedom lyin' round loose, but
it don't allow a man to hire another man's hands, nor give them
aid and comfort by harboring and feeding them when they break their
contracts and run away. I reckon the old man's got you, Nimbus. If
one hook don't catch, the other will. You've been harborin' the
cuss, if you didn't entice him away, and that's just the same."
"Ef you mean by harborin' that I tuk my wife's kinsman in when
ole Marse Sykes turned his family out in de big road like a damned
ole rascal--"
"Hold on, Nimbus!" said the sheriff, with a dangerous light in
his cold gray eyes; "you'd better not talk like that about a white
gentleman."
"Whose ter hender my talkin', I'd like ter know? Hain't I jes' de
same right ter talk ez you er Marse Sykes, an' wouldn't you call
me a damn rascal ef I'd done ez he did? Ain't I ez free ez he is?"
"You ain't white!" hissed the sheriff.
"No, an' it seems I ain't free, nuther!" was the hot reply." H'yer
t'other night some damn scoundrels--I'specs they wuz white, too,
an' yer may tell 'em from me dat I called 'em jes what I did--come
an' hung a board 'fore my gate threatening ter kill me an' 'Liab
kase we's 'too sassy,' so they sed. Now, 'Liab Hill ner me nebber
disturb nobody, an' nebber do nothin' only jes stan' up for our
own rights, respectful and peaceable-like; but we hain't ter be
run down in no sech way, I'se a free man, an' ef I think a man's
a gran' rascal I'se gwine ter _say_ so, whether he's black er
white; an' ef enny on 'em comes ter Ku Klux me I'll put a bullet
t'rough dem! I will, by God! Ef I breaks the law I'll take the
consequences like a man, but I'll be damned ef ennybody shall Ku
Kluck me without somebody's goin' 'long with me, when I drops outen
dis world! Dat much I'se sot on!"
The sheriff did not answer, only to say, "Careful, careful! There's
them that would give you a high limb if they heard you talk like
that."
They went together to the house. The required bonds were given,
and the sheriff started off with a chuckle. He had hardly passed
out of sight when he checked his horse, returned, and calling Nimbus
to the gate, said to him in a low tone:
"See here, Nimbus, if you should ever get in the notion of selling
this place, remember and let me have the first chance."
"All right, Marse Gleason."
"And see here, these little papers I've served to-day--you needn't
have any trouble about them in that case. You understand," with
a wink.
"Dunno ez I does, Marse Sheriff," stolidly.
"Oh, well, if you sell to me, I'll take care of them, that's all."
"An' ef I don't?"
"Oh, well, in that case, you must look out for yourself."
He wheeled his horse and rode off with a mocking laugh.
Nimbus returned to the porch of Eliab's house where the preacher
sat thoughtfully scanning the summons and _capias_.
"What you tink ob dis ting, 'Liab?"
"It is part of a plan to break you up, Nimbus," was the reply.
"Dar ain't no sort ob doubt 'bout that, 'Liab," answered Nimbus,
doggedly, "an' dat ole Sheriff Gleason's jes' at de bottom ob it,
I do b'lieve. But I ain't ter be druv off wid law-suits ner Ku
Kluckers. I'se jest a gwine ter git a lawyer an' fight it out, dat
I am."