I
When it is said that it was done to please a woman, there ought perhaps
to be enough said to explain anything; for what a man will not do to
please a woman is yet to be discovered. Nevertheless, it might be well
to state a few preliminary facts to make it clear why young Dick Owens
tried to run one of his father's negro men off to Canada.
In the early fifties, when the growth of anti-slavery sentiment and the
constant drain of fugitive slaves into the North had so alarmed the
slaveholders of the border States as to lead to the passage of the
Fugitive Slave Law, a young white man from Ohio, moved by compassion for
the sufferings of a certain bondman who happened to have a "hard
master," essayed to help the slave to freedom. The attempt was
discovered and frustrated; the abductor was tried and convicted for
slave-stealing, and sentenced to a term of imprisonment in the
penitentiary. His death, after the expiration of only a small part of
the sentence, from cholera contracted while nursing stricken fellow
prisoners, lent to the case a melancholy interest that made it famous in
anti-slavery annals.
Dick Owens had attended the trial. He was a youth of about twenty-two,
intelligent, handsome, and amiable, but extremely indolent, in a
graceful and gentlemanly way; or, as old Judge Fenderson put it more
than once, he was lazy as the Devil,--a mere figure of speech, of
course, and not one that did justice to the Enemy of Mankind. When asked
why he never did anything serious, Dick would good-naturedly reply, with
a well-modulated drawl, that he did n't have to. His father was rich;
there was but one other child, an unmarried daughter, who because of
poor health would probably never marry, and Dick was therefore heir
presumptive to a large estate. Wealth or social position he did not need
to seek, for he was born to both. Charity Lomax had shamed him into
studying law, but notwithstanding an hour or so a day spent at old Judge
Fenderson's office, he did not make remarkable headway in his legal
studies.
"What Dick needs," said the judge, who was fond of tropes, as became a
scholar, and of horses, as was befitting a Kentuckian, "is the whip of
necessity, or the spur of ambition. If he had either, he would soon need
the snaffle to hold him back."
But all Dick required, in fact, to prompt him to the most remarkable
thing he accomplished before he was twenty-five, was a mere suggestion
from Charity Lomax. The story was never really known to but two persons
until after the war, when it came out because it was a good story and
there was no particular reason for its concealment.
Young Owens had attended the trial of this slave-stealer, or
martyr,--either or both,--and, when it was over, had gone to call on
Charity Lomax, and, while they sat on the veranda after sundown, had
told her all about the trial. He was a good talker, as his career in
later years disclosed, and described the proceedings very graphically.
"I confess," he admitted, "that while my principles were against the
prisoner, my sympathies were on his side. It appeared that he was of
good family, and that he had an old father and mother, respectable
people, dependent upon him for support and comfort in their declining
years. He had been led into the matter by pity for a negro whose master
ought to have been run out of the county long ago for abusing his
slaves. If it had been merely a question of old Sam Briggs's negro,
nobody would have cared anything about it. But father and the rest of
them stood on the principle of the thing, and told the judge so, and the
fellow was sentenced to three years in the penitentiary."
Miss Lomax had listened with lively interest.
"I 've always hated old Sam Briggs," she said emphatically, "ever since
the time he broke a negro's leg with a piece of cordwood. When I hear of
a cruel deed it makes the Quaker blood that came from my grandmother
assert itself. Personally I wish that all Sam Briggs's negroes would run
away. As for the young man, I regard him as a hero. He dared something
for humanity. I could love a man who would take such chances for the
sake of others."
"Could you love me, Charity, if I did something heroic?"
"You never will, Dick. You 're too lazy for any use. You 'll never do
anything harder than playing cards or fox-hunting."
"Oh, come now, sweetheart! I 've been courting you for a year, and it 's
the hardest work imaginable. Are you never going to love me?" he
pleaded.
His hand sought hers, but she drew it back beyond his reach.
"I 'll never love you, Dick Owens, until you have done something. When
that time comes, I 'll think about it."
"But it takes so long to do anything worth mentioning, and I don't want
to wait. One must read two years to become a lawyer, and work five more
to make a reputation. We shall both be gray by then."
"Oh, I don't know," she rejoined. "It does n't require a lifetime for a
man to prove that he is a man. This one did something, or at least tried
to."
"Well, I 'm willing to attempt as much as any other man. What do you
want me to do, sweetheart? Give me a test."
"Oh, dear me!" said Charity, "I don't care what you _do_, so you do
_something_. Really, come to think of it, why should I care whether you
do anything or not?"
"I 'm sure I don't know why you should, Charity," rejoined Dick humbly,
"for I 'm aware that I 'm not worthy of it."
"Except that I do hate," she added, relenting slightly, "to see a really
clever man so utterly lazy and good for nothing."
"Thank you, my dear; a word of praise from you has sharpened my wits
already. I have an idea! Will you love me if I run a negro off to
Canada?"
"What nonsense!" said Charity scornfully. "You must be losing your wits.
Steal another man's slave, indeed, while your father owns a hundred!"
"Oh, there 'll be no trouble about that," responded Dick lightly; "I 'll
run off one of the old man's; we 've got too many anyway. It may not be
quite as difficult as the other man found it, but it will be just as
unlawful, and will demonstrate what I am capable of."
"Seeing 's believing," replied Charity. "Of course, what you are talking
about now is merely absurd. I 'm going away for three weeks, to visit my
aunt in Tennessee. If you 're able to tell me, when I return, that you 've
done something to prove your quality, I 'll--well, you may come and tell
me about it."