CHAPTER XVIII.

My nerves were so wrought upon by the continuous dread of the doctor's

coming that by the time the meal was over I was almost in a state of

collapse. Young Master's eye noticed my indisposition, and as we turned

about in the hall to mount the stairs, he said to me:

"Slip out, Dan, and take a walk in the fresh air, alone. You don't look

well." I thanked him and halted, and he passed on without inquiring

into the cause of what he must have seen was a pitiable dejection. A

thousand well-sifted words could not have shown the delicacy of his

nature more fittingly, and my gratitude followed him step by step as he

went up the stairs; and when he had reached the landing I stole out of

the house.

The brown veil of dusk lay upon the land, but in a hill-side thicket

far away a light was shimmering to illumine the early evening festival

of the gray fox--the moon was coming up. The air was still and soft,

but heavy with the sappy scent from the damp grass land down the

creek. On the comb of a cabin, grotesquely outlined in this dun-colored

close of day, sat a negro blowing a melancholy reed, and high above him

the bull-bats were screaming. In the shrubbery a hord of negro children

were playing a counting-out game. I passed the cow-pens; the women were

there and I heard the stream of milk spurting hard in the "piggin."

My spirits rose out of their nervous lassitude; I felt a strong and

almost unnatural sense of exhilaration, and this alarmed me, for we are

sometimes afraid to feel an unaccountable buoyancy lest it may foretell

a coming fall. I have known Christians who had prayed for sanctity in

the sight of the Lord, to tremble at happiness, afraid that it might

be a trap set by the devil. I skirted the shore of the creek, crossed

the meadow, passed through the woods, entered the grassy lane and stood

there with my arms on the fence, looking at the full moon, now high

above the trees. And I thought that the foxes must have given over

their dancing to scatter about for a night of mischievous prowling. I

was on a knoll, and turning about I could see the lights in the cabins

and the great house, a hen and her chickens squatted upon the ground, I

fancied. The strongest light came from my Young Master's room, and in

my mind I could see him sitting at the table with his eyes fastened

upon his sheep-bound book. And the self-reproach of an ambitious

thought that I was not keeping up with him started me homeward at a

bound. But I had not gone far before I was stopped by a voice. A man

stepped from the corner of the zig-zag fence. "Hold on!" he said, and

the doctor stood before me. The moon was on his face and in the coarse

lines that traced his countenance the devil's mockery was legible.

"Where are you going?" he asked, standing with his hands behind him.

"Home," I answered.

"Home!" he repeated, and vitriol was in his voice. "Is there a home for

everyone but me?" He threw his head back as if motioning toward the

house. "Can you go back there and sleep on a bed when I am told never

to cross that threshold again? Can you?"

"I don't know what you mean, doctor?"

"I have been driven away this night. The old man has turned me out."

"But am I to blame? I am the humblest member of that household."

He did not change his attitude, but I thought that I saw his bosom

swelling. "The humblest because you are the lowest down, but a snake

is low down," he said, thrusting his chin toward me. "Look here, spawn.

The first step you took put you in my way. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, sir, and I am much surprised to hear you say it. I didn't think

you would acknowledge that I had so much force. We have not been

friends, it is true, but I thought that my position kept us from being

enemies. To be enemies must argue a certain degree of equality, and I

have never presumed upon that. You may have stooped. And now let me beg

you to straighten up and forget that I ever existed."

"I will forget that you have existed, and I will straighten up, but not

until I have stooped lower. Look here. I hate the fool boy that owns

you, and if I could kill him this moment, I would. I am getting old and

there is nothing left for me. But I want revenge and I am going to have

it, for I am going to be sensible. I never was a fool."

"Doctor, I don't understand your meaning."

"You are duller than usual. If I were to kill your master or that old

imbecile, this whole county would follow me, but if I kill a yellow

dog, they--" He leered at me, the moon full on his face. A chill

seized my legs and ran to the top of my head and the roots of my hair

felt cold.

"You mean that you will kill me?"

"That's what I mean. They drove me to brandy and brandy has pointed you

out."

I was perfectly calm; the chill had left me. "Will you please let me

pass?" I asked; and he stepped back, still with his hands behind him.

"No," he said.

"Have you forgotten our contract?"

"You are a fool if you put faith in it. You are not negro enough to be

put by with a kick. You are white man enough to be killed. And when

they find you in the morning they will think that your little learning

drove you mad."

This startled me. I believed that they would think so, if they should

find me dead, but no obedience to a social law and surely no regard for

the statutes could force me to submit quietly to the bloody purpose of

this raving man.

"Doctor, I have run from you for the last time. Get out of my way!" I

stepped aside, but he moved toward me. Now his hands were in front of

him and I saw a knife. I had nothing. I could have turned and run away;

I could have leaped over the fence, but hot blood was coursing where

the chill had crept.

"I am going home," said I, "and I am going down this lane."

He made no reply, but with a leap and a strike he was upon me. I caught

the wrist of his right arm; I threw my left arm about him. I thought

that I heard his bones cracking and it gave me a thrill of mad delight.

I did not strive to get his knife. I bent his head down till his cry

was but a mutter; his right hand was crushed against his bosom--and I

threw him upon the ground. He struggled, with one faint cry, for his

face was in the grass, and I put my foot on his back to hold him down,

to complete my victory over him. And I am free to confess that my soul

was full of a joy that almost burnt me, it was so hot. Many a time had

he stood with his foot upon my trembling heart, and the memory of those

long years of humiliation swept over me and I lifted my hands and cried

aloud to the God of vengeance. I looked down at my foe under my foot.

And now he was so mean and shrunken that my heart flinched with a pity

that pricked it. I lifted my foot with a quick jerk lest another memory

might press it down the harder, and stood waiting for him to get up.

He did not move. "Get up," I said, taking him by the shoulder. But he

made no effort. Then I turned him upon his back and the moonlight fell

upon his blood, and horrified, I looked at him, his eyes wide open,

his teeth hard set with grass between them. His right hand was still

upon his left breast, clutching the knife, and its blade was buried in

his heart.

I dropped upon my knees, and gazed at him, now so old and wrinkled. I

leaped to my feet and the air whistled in my ears as I bounded down the

lane. I was struggling to run away from the knowledge that I had killed

him, but it kept up with me--showed me a jail and a gallows. I halted

when near the house, put my arm about a tree and stood there. The negro

cabins were dark, but a light burned in Young Master's room. The hour

was late. The creek was louder than I had ever heard it, a mockery, not

a music. A wind had sprung up and in the tree-tops there was a cold and

rasping whisper. I was striving to reach a decision as to what course

I should pursue. Undoubtedly I had killed the man or had thrown him so

that he might kill himself, but of this I had entertained no thought

at the time, my aim being to protect myself and to humiliate him, to

show him that I could turn and be his master. But I could not explain

this to the authorities, therefore I held no notion of giving myself

up. To run away were an acknowledgement of guilt, a brief inquiry and

the rope. I could make a flat denial, if accused, but was afraid that

I could not summon the nerve to maintain it. Still something must be

done. I might go to Mr. Clem, tell him the truth, get letters from him

to persons in the real land of the free and with his financial aid

make my escape out of the country. But this was blocked by the love I

bore my Young Master. I went to the well and washed my hands, although

I could find no blood on them, and the windlass was so loud with its

groaning that I fancied the whole world must hear it. A dog came up,

sniffed at me and trotted off. Life had been stirred until I had found

the sugar at the bottom. I must save myself, but I could not run away

without telling my Master, without asking his advice. I would go to

him. Up the stairway I stole without a noise. I was afraid that I might

find Old Master pacing the hall, and I listened to hear his slippered

feet, but all was still. I turned the knob so gently that Young Master

did not hear me when I entered the room. He sat gazing at his book. I

spoke and he started.

"Why do you come slipping in this way, Dan? You startled me. What were

you doing so long? What the devil is the matter with you, boy?"

I caught at the edge of the table, dropped upon my knees and told him

my story. I do not know what his face might have shown, for my eyes

were cast down, I don't know what he felt, but I do know that not a

sound escaped him. I got up at the end and looked at him, and his face

was pale and hard.

"Lie down," he said, pointing to my lounge.

"To be pulled up by the sheriff?" I cried.

"Lie down and ask no questions, and stay there until I call for you.

If anyone comes in, you are too ill to get up. Do you hear me? This is

not a request; it is a command. D-- you, will you do it?" he cried,

stamping the floor. "You belong to me. Do as I tell you. Take off your

clothes. If father asks for me, tell him I went away early in the

evening. Don't say a word."

I took off my clothes, with the tears falling on my trembling hands. He

watched me until I was in bed and then he put the light out. I heard

the door close--heard him going down the stairs.

My Young Master: A Novel · 第 18 / 28 章