REDEEMED OUT OF THE HOUSE OF BONDAGE.
Three months passed peacefully away in Horsford. In the "redeemed"
county its "natural rulers" bore sway once more. The crops which
Nimbus had cultivated were harvested by a Receiver of the Court.
The families that dwelt at Red Wing awaited in sullen silence the
outcome of the suits which had been instituted. Of Nimbus and Eliab
not a word had been heard. Some thought they had been killed; others
that they had fled. The family of Berry Lawson had disappeared from
the new home which he had made near "Bre'er Rufe Patterson's," in
Hanson County. Some said that they had gone South; others that they
had gone East. "Bre'er Rufe" declared that he did not know where
they had gone. All he knew was that he was "ober dar ob a Saturday
night, an' dar dey was, Sally an' de chillen; an' den he went dar
agin ob a Monday mornin' arly, an' dar dey wasn't, nary one ob'
em."
The excitement with regard to the will, and her fear that Hesden
was infected with the horrible virus of "Radicalism," had most
alarmingly prostrated the invalid of Mulberry Hill. For a long time
it was feared that her life of sufferirig was near its end. Hesden
did not leave home at all, except once or twice to attend to some
business as the trustee for the fugitive Jackson. Cousin Hetty had
become a regular inmate of the house. All the invalid's affection
for her dead daughter-in-law seemed to have been transferred to
Hetty Lomax. No one could serve her so well. Even Hesden's attentions
were less grateful. She spoke freely of the time when she should
see Hetty in her sister's place, the mistress of Mulberry Hill.
She had given up all fear of the property being claimed by others,
since she had heard how small were the chances of discovering an
heir whose claims were not barred; and though she had consented
to forego her legal rights, she trusted that a way would be found
to satisfy any who might be discovered. At any rate, she was sure
that her promise would not bind her successor, and, with the usual
stubbornness of the chronic invalid, she determined that the estate
should not pass out of the family. In any event, she did not expect
to live until the finding of an heir, should there chance to be
one.
One of the good citizens of the county began to show himself in
public for the first time since the raid on Red Wing. An ugly scar
stretched from his forehead down along his nose and across his
lips and chin. At the least excitement it became red and angry,
and gave him at all times a ghastly and malevolent appearance. He
was a great hero with the best citizens; was _feted_, admired,
and praised; and was at once made a deputy sheriff under the new
_regime_. Another most worthy citizen, the superintendent of
a Sabbath-school, and altogether one of the most estimable citizens
of the county, had been so seriously affected with a malignant
brain-fever since that bloody night that he had not yet left his
bed.
The colored men, most of whom from a foolish apprehension had
slept in the woods until the election, now began to perceive that
the nights were wholesome, and remained in their cabins. They seemed
sullen and discontented, and sometimes whispered among themselves
of ill-usage and unfair treatment; but they were not noisy
and clamorous, as they had been before the work of "redemption."
It was especially noted that they were much more respectful and
complaisant to their superiors than they had been at any time since
the Surrender. The old time "Marse" was now almost universally used,
and few "niggers" presumed to speak to a white man in the country
districts without removing their hats. In the towns the improvement
was not so perceptible. The "sassy" ones seemed to take courage
from their numbers, and there they were still sometimes "boisterous"
and "obstreperous." On the whole, however, the result seemed eminently
satisfactory, with a prospect of growing better every day. Labor
was more manageable, and there were much fewer appeals to the law
by lazy, impudent, and dissatisfied laborers. The master's word was
rarely disputed upon the day of settlement, and there was every
prospect of reviving hope and continued prosperity on the part of men
who worked their plantations by proxy, and who had been previously
very greatly annoyed and discouraged by the persistent clamor of
their "hands" for payment.
There had been some ill-natured criticism of the course of Hesden
Le Moyne. It was said that he had made some very imprudent remarks,
both in regard to the treatment of Jordan Jackson and the affair
at Red Wing. There were some, indeed, who openly declared that he
had upheld and encouraged the niggers at Red Wing in their insolent
and outrageous course, and had used language unworthy of a "Southern
gentleman" concerning those patriotic men who had felt called upon,
for the protection of their homes and property, to administer the
somewhat severe lesson which had no doubt nipped disorder in the
bud, saved them from the war of races which had imminently impended,
and brought "redemption" to the county. Several of Hesden's personal
friends called upon him and remonstrated with him upon his course.
Many thought he should be "visited," and "Radicalism in the county
stamped out" at once, root and branch. He received warning from the
Klan to the effect that he was considered a dangerous character, and
must change his tone and take heed to his footsteps. As, however,
his inclination to the dangerous doctrines was generally attributed
in a great measure to his unfortunate infatuation for the little
"nigger-teacher," it was hoped that her absence would effect a
cure. Especially was this opinion entertained when it became known
that his mother was bitterly opposed to his course, and was fully
determined to root the seeds of "Radicalism" from his mind. His
attachment for her was well known, and it was generally believed
that she might be trusted to turn him from the error of his ways,
particularly as she was the owner of Red Wing, and had freely
declared her intention not to leave him a foot of it unless he
abandoned his absurd and vicious notions. Hesden himself, though
he went abroad but little, saw that his friends had grown cool and
that his enemies had greatly multiplied.
This was the situation of affairs in the good County of Horsford
when, one bright morning in December--the morning of "that day
whereon our Saviour's birth is celebrate"--Hesden Le Moyne rode to
the depot nearest to his home, purchased two tickets to a Northern
city, and, when the morning train came in, assisted his "boy"
Charles to lift from a covered wagon which stood near by, the weak
and pallid form of the long-lost "nigger preacher," Eliab Hill,
and place him upon the train. It was noticed by the loungers about
the depot that Hesden carried but half concealed a navy revolver
which seemed to have seen service. There was some excitement in
the little crowd over the reappearance of Eliab Hill, but he was
not interfered with. In fact, the cars moved off so quickly after
he was first seen that there was no time to recover from the surprise
produced by the unexpected apparition. It was not until the smoke
of the engine had disappeared in the distance that the wrath of
the bystanders clothed itself in words.
Then the air reeked with expletives. What ought to have been done
was discussed with great freedom. An excited crowd gathered around
Charles as he was preparing to return home, and plied him with
questions. His ignorance was phenomenal, but the look of stupefied
wonder with which he regarded his questioners confirmed his words.
It was not until he had proceeded a mile on his homeward way, with
Midnight in leading behind the tail-board, that, having satisfied
himself that there was no one within hearing, by peeping from
beneath the canvas covering of the wagon, both before and behind,
he tied the reins to one of the bows which upheld the cover,
abandoned the mule to his own guidance, and throwing himself upon
the mattress on which Eliab had lain, gave vent to roars of laughter.
"Yah, yah, yah!" he cried, as the tears rolled down his black face.
"It du take Marse Hesden to wax dem fellers! Dar he war, jest ez
cool an' keerless ez yer please, a'standin' roun' an' waitin' fer
de train an' payin' no 'tention at all ter me an' de wagon by de
platform, dar. Swar, but I war skeered nigh 'bout ter death, till
I got dar an' seed him so quiet and keerless; an' Bre'er 'Liab, he
war jest a-prayin' all de time--but dat's no wonder. Den, when de
train whistle, Marse Hesden turn quick an' sharp an' I seed him gib
dat ole pistol a jerk roun' in front, an' he come back an' sed,
jest ez cool an' quiet, 'Now, Charles!' I declar' it stiddied me up
jes ter hear him, an' den up comes Bre'er 'Liab in my arms. Marse
Hesden helps a bit an' goes fru de crowd wid his mouf shet like a
steel trap. We takes him on de cars. All aboard! _Whoo-oop--puff,
puff!_ Off she goes! an' dat crowd stan's dar a-cussin' all
curration an' demselves to boot! Yah, yah, yah! 'Rah for Marse
Hesden!"