COLONEL ROYALL was reading an extra edition of the morning paper; it
contained a full account of the attempted lynching, and the timely
arrival of the militia. The colonel was smoking a big cigar and the
lines of his face were more placid than they had been for a week,
but his brow clouded a little as he looked down the broad driveway
and saw Jacob Eaton approaching. Jacob, of late, had been somewhat
in the nature of a stormy petrel. Nor did the colonel feel unlimited
confidence in the younger man’s judgment; he was beginning to feel
uneasy about certain large transactions which he had trusted to Jacob’s
management.
The situation, however, was uppermost in the colonel’s mind? He dropped
the paper across his knee and knocked the ashes out of his cigar.
Jacob’s smooth good looks had never been more apparent and he was
dressed with his usual elaborate care. Nothing could have sat on him
more lightly than the recent verdict, and the fact that he was out on
bail. Colonel Royall, who was mortified by it, looked at him with a
feeling of exasperation.
“Been in town?” he asked, after the exchange of greetings, as Jacob
ascended the piazza steps.
“All the morning,” he replied, sitting down on the low balustrade and
regarding the colonel from under heavy eyelids.
“How is it? Quiet?” The colonel was always sneakingly conscious of a
despicable feeling of panic when Jacob regarded him with that drooping
but stony stare.
“Militia is still out,” said Jacob calmly, “and if the disturbances
continue the governor threatens to call on Colonel Ross for a company
of regulars.”
“He’s nervous,” commented the colonel reflectively. “I don’t wonder.
How in the mischief did Aylett happen to be near Yarnall?”
Jacob looked pensive. “I don’t know,” he said; “I was in the rear
corridor by the State’s Attorney’s room. They say Aylett was crossing
the quadrangle just in front of Yarnall.”
The colonel smoked for a few moments in silence, then he took his cigar
from between his teeth. “What were you doing in the corridor?” he asked
pointedly.
Jacob took a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. “I was going to
Colonel Coad’s office, and I was the first to try to locate the shots
outside the court-house.”
“I was in Judge Ladd’s room,” said Colonel Royall deliberately, “and I
reckon that was as near as I want to be. I see by this”--he touched the
paper with his finger--“that Caleb Trench induced Juniper to surrender
to the authorities, and he says that he’s sure he can prove the negro’s
innocence.”
Jacob laughed, showing his teeth unpleasantly. “Probably he can,” he
remarked; “he’s under arrest himself.”
The colonel swung around in his chair. “Caleb Trench? What for?”
“For the assassination of Yarnall.”
“By gum!” said the colonel in honest wrath, “what rotten nonsense!”
Jacob said nothing; he continued to smoke his cigarette.
The colonel slapped the paper down on his knee. “When men’s blood is
heated, they run wild,” he said. “Why, Trench was Yarnall’s counsel;
he’d won the case for him--he--”
“Just so,” replied Jacob coolly; “you forget that Aylett had insulted
Trench twice in court, that he despised him as heartily as I do and
that Aylett was almost beside Yarnall!”
The colonel pushed his hat back on his head and thought. He knew that
Eaton hated Trench, but his mind did not embrace the enormity of a
hatred that could revel in such an accusation. “The charge then must be
that he meant to hit Aylett,” he said, after a long moment, “and that
makes him take big risks. These Yankees aren’t good shots, half of ’em.”
Jacob laughed unpleasantly. “Well, I reckon he wasn’t,” he remarked,
and as his thoughts went back to a certain gray morning in Little Neck
Meadow, his face reddened.
The colonel wriggled uncomfortably in his chair. “What did he want to
shoot Aylett for?” he demanded.
“You’ve forgotten, I suppose, that Aylett called him a liar twice in
court,” said Jacob dryly.
“He didn’t shoot you for a greater provocation,” retorted the colonel
bluntly.
“He was the only man found in the court-room with the smoking
weapon,” said Jacob. “Juniper ran away, and he’s been protecting
Juniper,--buying him off from testifying, I reckon.”
“I can’t understand why either he or Juniper was in the court-room,”
declared the colonel, frowning.
“Had good reason to be,” replied Jacob tartly, tossing his cigarette
over the rail.
“See here, Jacob,” said the colonel solemnly, “I’m an old man and your
relation, and I feel free to give you advice. You keep your oar out of
it.”
Jacob laughed. “I’ve got to testify,” he drawled.
“Good Lord!” exclaimed the colonel.
Then followed several moments of intense silence.
“Where’s Diana?” asked the young man at last, rising and flipping some
ashes off his coat.
“In the flower garden,” replied her father thoughtfully, “she’s seeing
to some plants for winter; I reckon she won’t want you around.”
Jacob looked more agreeable. “I think I’ll go all the same,” he said,
strolling away.
The colonel leaned forward in his chair and called after him. “Jacob,
how about these stocks? I wanted to sell out at eight and three
quarter cents.”
Eaton paused reluctantly, his hands in his pockets. “You can next
week,” he said; “the market’s slumped this. You’d better let me handle
that deal right through, Cousin David.”
“You’ve been doing it straight along,” said the colonel. “I reckon I’d
better wake up and remember that I used to know something. I’m equal to
strong meats yet, Jacob, and you’ve been putting me on pap.”
“Oh, it’s all right!” said Jacob. “I’ll sell the shares out for you,”
and he departed.
The colonel sat watching him. The old thought that he would probably
marry Diana no longer had any attractions for him; he had lost
confidence in Jacob’s sleek complacence, and the recent testimony in
court had shaken it still more. Besides, he had a fine pride of family,
and the verdict against Jacob had irritated and mortified him. Nothing
was too good for Diana, and the fact that there was the shadow of a
great sorrow upon her made her even dearer to her father. He had never
thought that she had more than a passing fancy for Jacob, and lately he
had suspected that she disliked him. The colonel ruminated, strumming
on the piazza balustrade with absent fingers. Before him the long slope
of the lawn was still as green as summer, but the horse-chestnut burs
were open and the glossy nuts fell with every light breeze. Across the
road a single gum tree waved a branch of flame.
He was still sitting there when Kingdom-Come brought out a mint julep
and arranged it on the table at his elbow.
The colonel glanced up, conscious that the negro lingered. “What’s the
matter, King?” he asked good-humoredly.
“News from town, suh,” the black replied, flicking some dust off the
table with his napkin. “Dey’s tried ter storm de jail, suh. De militia
charged, an’ deyer’s been right smart shootin’.”
Colonel Royall looked out apprehensively over the slope to the south
which showed in the distance the spires and roofs of the city. A blue
fog of smoke hung low over it and the horizon beyond had the haze of
autumn. “Bad news,” said he, shaking his head.
“It suttinly am, suh,” agreed Kingdom-Come, “an’ dey do say dat Aunt
Charity ez gwine ter leave Juniper now fo’ sho.”
“She’s left him at intervals for forty years,” said the colonel,
tasting his julep; “I reckon he can stand it, King.”
The negro grinned. “I reckon so, suh,” he assented. “Juniper dun said
once dat he’d gib her her fare ef she’d go by rail an’ stay away!”
Just then Miss Kitty Broughton stopped her pony cart at the gate and
came across the lawn. The colonel rose ceremoniously and greeted her,
hat in hand.
“Where’s Diana?” Kitty asked eagerly.
“In the rose garden with Jacob, my dear,” said the colonel.
Kitty made a grimace. “_Noblesse oblige_,” she said; “I suppose I must
stay here. Colonel, isn’t it all dreadful? Grandfather can’t keep
from swearing, he isn’t respectable, and Aunt Sally has Sammy.” Kitty
blushed suddenly. “I took Shot, the dog, you know; they won’t let Mr.
Trench have bail.”
“It’s the most inexplicable thing I know of,” said the colonel,
stroking his white moustache. “Why Caleb Trench should shoot his own
client--”
Kitty stared. “Why, Colonel, you know, don’t you, that the arrest was
made on Jacob Eaton’s affidavit?”
Colonel Royall leaned back in his chair, and Kitty found his expression
inexplicable. “How long have you known this?” he asked.
“Since morning,” said Kitty promptly. “Grandpa told us; he’s furious,
but he says it’s a good case. It seems Mr. Eaton saw Mr. Trench first
in the court-room. The two shots were fired, you know, in quick
succession. Juniper was seen by some one at the window just before; no
one saw who fired the shots, but Mr. Eaton met Caleb Trench leaving
the room. No one else was there, and Mr. Trench says that Juniper did
not fire the shots. Juniper is half dead with fright, and in the jail
hospital; he went out of his head this morning when the mob tried to
rush the jail. It’s awful; they say six people were killed and three
wounded.”
“Caleb Trench wounded two last night,” said the colonel. He had the air
of a man in a dream.
“They won’t die,” replied Kitty, cold-bloodedly, “and it’s a good thing
to stop these lynchers. Wasn’t Mr. Trench grand? I’m dying to go and
see him and tell him how I admired the account of him facing the mob.
What does Di think?”
“She hasn’t said,” replied the colonel, suddenly remembering that
Diana’s silence was unusual. He looked apprehensively toward the rose
garden and saw the flutter of a white dress through an opening in the
box hedge. “Kitty,” he added abruptly, “you go over there and see Diana
and ask her yourself.”
“While Mr. Eaton’s there?” Kitty giggled. “I couldn’t, Colonel Royall;
he’d hate me.”
The colonel looked reflectively at the young girl sitting in the big
chair opposite. She was very pretty and her smile was charming. “I
don’t think he’d hate you, my dear,” he remarked dryly, “and I know
Diana wants to see you.”
Kitty hesitated. “I don’t like to interrupt,” she demurred.
“You won’t,” said the colonel, a little viciously.
Kitty rose and descended the steps to the lawn, nothing loath; then
she stopped and looked over her shoulder. “Mr. Trench will be tried
immediately,” she said; “the Grand Jury indicted him this morning.”
The colonel’s frown of perplexity deepened. “I call it indecent haste,”
he said.
“Grandpa is to defend him,” said Kitty, “and we’re proud of him. I
think Caleb Trench is a real hero, Colonel Royall.”
The colonel sighed. “I wish Jacob was,” he thought, but he did not
speak.