THE INVASION
Dunwody joined Jamieson below, and the latter now called for his
horse, the two walking together toward the door. They hardly had
reached the gallery when there became audible the sound of
hoof-beats rapidly approaching up the road across the lawn. A
party of four horsemen appeared, all riding hard.
[Illustration: A party of four horsemen appeared.]
"Who're they?" inquired the doctor. "Didn't see any of them on the
road as I came in."
"They look familiar," commented Dunwody. "That's Jones, and that's
Judge Clayton, down below--why, I just left both of them on the
boat the other day! It's Desha and Yates with them, from the other
side of the county. There must be something up."
He advanced to meet the visitors. "Good morning, gentlemen. Light
down, and come in."
All four got down, shook hands with Dunwody, gave their reins to
servants, and joined him on his invitation to enter. Jamieson was
known to all of them.
"Well, Colonel Dunwody," began the Honorable William Jones, "you
didn't expect to see us so soon, did you? Reckon you'd ought to be
all the gladder.
"You live here, my dear Colonel," he continued, looking about him,
"in much the same state and seclusion remarked by Mr. Gibbon in his
immortal work on the _Decline and Fall of Rome_--where he described
the castles of them ancient days, located back in the mountainous
regions. But it ain't no Roman road you've got, out thar."
"I was going to remark," interrupted Judge Clayton, "that Colonel
Dunwody has anticipated all the modern requirements of hospitality
as well as embodied all those of ancient sort. Thank you, I shall
taste your bourbon, Colonel, with gladness. It is a long ride in
from the river; but, following out our friend's thought, why do you
live away back in here, when all your best plantations are down
below? We don't see you twice a year, any more."
"Well," said the owner of Tallwoods, "my father might be better
able to answer that question if he were alive. He built this for a
summer place, and I use it all the year. I found the place here,
and it always seemed too big to move away. We set three meals a
day, even back here in the hills, and there's quite a bunch of
leaves we can put on the table. The only drawback is, we don't see
much company. I'm mighty glad to see you, and I'm going to keep
you here now, until--"
"Until something pops open," remarked the Honorable William, over
the rim of his glass. Dunwody's neighbors nodded also.
Their host looked at them for a moment. "Are you here on any
special errand--but of course there must be something of the sort,
to bring you two gentlemen so close on my trail."
"We met up with these gentlemen down at the river," began Yates,
"and from what they done told us, we thought we'd all better ride
in along together, and have a little talk with you. Looks like
there might be trouble in these parts before long."
"What sort of trouble?"
"It's this-a-way," broke in the Honorable William Jones. "The
jedge an' I laid off at Cairo when you-all went on through. Next
day, along comes a steamer from up-river, an' she's full of
northern men, headed west; a damned sight more like a fightin' army
than so many settlers. They're goin' out into the purairie country
beyant, an' _I_ think it's just on the early-bird principle, to
hold it ag'inst settlers from this state. They're a lot of those
damned black abolitionists, that's what they are! What's more,
that Lily gal of the jedge's here, she's got away agin--she turned
up missin' at Cairo, too--an' she taken up with this bunch of
Yankees, an' is mighty apt to git clar off."
Judge Clayton nodded gravely. "The whole North is stirred up and
bound to make trouble. These men seem to have taken the girl in
without hesitation. They don't intend to stand by any compromise,
at least. The question is, what are we going to do about it? We
can't stand here and see our property taken away by armed invaders,
in this way. And yet--"
"It looks," he added slowly, a moment later, "just as Thomas
Jefferson said long ago, as though this country had the wolf by the
ear, and could neither hold it nor let it go. For myself--and
setting aside this personal matter, which is at worst only the loss
of a worthless girl--I admit I fear that this slavery wolf is going
to mean trouble--big trouble--both for the South and the North,
before long."
"Douglas, over there in Illinois, hasn't brought up anything in
Congress yet that's stuck," broke in the ever-ready Jones. "Old
Caroliny and Mississip'--them's the ones! Their conventions show
where we're goin' to stand at. We'll let the wolf go, and take
holt in a brand new place, that's exactly what we'll do!"
Dunwody remained silent for a time. Doctor Jamieson took snuff,
and looked quietly from one to the other. "You can count me in,
gentlemen," said he.
Silence fell as he went on. "If they mean fight, let them have
fight. If we let in one army of abolitionists out here, to run off
our property, another will follow. As soon as the railroad gets as
far west as the Missouri River, they'll come out in swarms; and
they will take that new country away from us. That's what they
want.
"The South has been swindled all along the line," he exclaimed,
rising and smiting a fist into a palm. "We got Texas, yes, but it
had to be by war. We've been juggled out of California, which
ought to have been a southern state. We don't want these deserts
of Utah and New Mexico, for they won't raise cotton. When we try
to get into Cuba, the North and all the rest of the world protests.
We are cut off from growth to the south by Mexico. On the west we
have these Indians located. The whole upper West is air-tight
abolitionist by national law. Now, where shall we go? These
abolitionists are even wedging in west of us. This damned
compromise line ought to be cut off the map. We ought to have a
chance to grow!"
Strange enough such speech sounds to-day,--speech demanding growth
for a part of a country, denying it for the whole, speech ignoring
the nationalist tendency so soon to overwhelm all bounds, all
creeds in the making of a mighty America that should be a home for
all the nations. But as the gray-headed old doctor went on he only
voiced what was the earnest conviction of many of the ablest men of
his time, both of the South and the North.
"The South has been robbed. We paid our share of the cost of this
last war, in blood and in money! We paid for our share in the new
territory won for the Union! And now they deny us any share of it!
A little band of ranters, of fanatics, undertake to tell a great
country what it shall do, what it shall think,--no matter even if
that is against our own interests and against our traditions!
Gentlemen, it's invasion, that's what it is, and that's my answer,
so far as my honest conscience and all my wisdom go. It's war!
What's the next thing to do? Judge, we can take back your
girl--the legal right to do that is clean. But we all know that
that may be only a beginning."
"To me, sir," ventured Judge Clayton, "the legal side of this is
very clear, leaving aside our right to recover my property. They
are trying to shove their fanatical beliefs down our throats with
rifle barrels. We never used to stand that sort of thing down
here. I don't think we will begin it now!"
The Honorable William Jones helped himself to whisky, altogether
forgetting his principle of taking but one drink a day. "If them
damned abolitionists would only stay at home, we could afford to
sit quiet an' let 'em howl; but when they come into our dooryard
an' begin to howl, it's time somethin' ought to be did. I 'low
we'll have to fight."
"We will fight," said Dunwody slowly and gravely. A faint picture
of the possible future was passing before his mind.
"What boat are these men using?" asked Doctor Jamieson, turning to
young Desha.
"Little old scow named the _Helen Bell_. She can't steam up-stream
a hundred miles a week. She ties up every night. We can easy
catch her, up above St. Genevieve, if we ride fast."
"That looks feasible to me," remarked Judge Clayton, and the others
nodded their approval.
Judge Clayton dropped into a seat, as he replaced his glass on the
nearest table. "By the way, Colonel Dunwody," said he, "there was
something right strange happened on the Vernon, coming down the
Ohio, and I thought maybe you could help us figure it out. There
was another disappearance--that extraordinarily beautiful young
lady who was there--you remember her? No one knew what became of
her. When I heard about that Lily girl's escape, I sent my men
with the two bucks on down home, with instructions for a little
training, so they would not try the underground again right soon.
But now--"
"Now about that Lily girl," interrupted the Honorable William Jones,
who had once more forgotten his temperance resolutions,--"But hello,
Colonel, what's this, wha-a-at's this?"
He picked up and exposed to view a small object which he saw lying
on the hall floor. It was a small pin of shell and silver, such as
ladies sometimes used for fastening the hair.
"Somehow, I got the idea you was a bachelor man," went on the
Honorable William cheerfully. "Thought you lived here all alone in
solitary splenjure; never looked at a woman in your whole life in
the whole memory of man. But, looky-here, now, what's this?"
Dunwody, suddenly confused, could only wonder whether his face
showed what he really felt. His guest continued his investigation.
"An' looky-there on the table!" pointing, where some servant
apparently had placed, yet another article of ladies' apparel,
dropped by accident, a dainty glove of make such as no servant of
that country ever saw, much less used. "Come now," blithely went
on the gentleman from Belmont. "Things is lookin' mighty
suspicious, mighty suspicious. Why didn't you tell us when you-all
was married?"
A sudden start might have drawn attention to Judge Clayton, but he
controlled himself. And if a slight smile assailed his lips, at
least he was able to suppress it. Nothing, however, could suppress
the curiosity of the able student of Roman history. "I'll just
take a little prowl around," said he.
He was rewarded in his search. A little hair-pin lay at the first
step of the stair. He fell upon it with uproarious glee.
"Trail's gittin' hot," said he. "I reckon I'll go on up."
"No!" cried Dunwody suddenly, and sprang to the foot of the stair.
"Please!--that is,--" he hesitated. "If you will kindly wait a
moment, I will have the servants put your room in order for you
before you go up."
"Oho!" cried the Honorable William. "Don't want us to find out a
single thing! House o' mystery, ah, ha! Doctor here, too! Tell
us, anybody died here to-day?"
Doctor Jamieson answered by quietly stepping to the side of
Dunwody. Judge Clayton, without comment, joined them, and the
three edged in between the exhilarated gentleman and the stairway
which he sought to ascend.
"I was just saying, gentlemen," remarked Judge Clayton quietly,
"that I was sure it would give us all much pleasure to take a
stroll around these beautiful grounds with Colonel Dunwody."
He looked Dunwody calmly in the eye, and the latter knew he had a
friend. He knew perfectly well that Judge Clayton did not for an
instant suppose that these articles ever had belonged to any
servant. On the contrary; it was possible he remembered where and
in whose possession he had seen them before. But nothing more was
said about the beautiful young lady of the _Mount Vernon_.
"You have a beautiful place here, Colonel Dunwody, beautiful!" said
Clayton carelessly, casting an arm over the other's shoulders and
leading the way to the front door. "It reminds me of our old
family home back in Virginia. Come, gentlemen; let us have a more
careful look at so well-chosen a locality. It is improved--improved,
gentlemen, as well as it originally was chosen. But look at those
hills!"