"A NEW KING ... WHICH KNEW NOT JOSEPH."
"Morlene, you and Catherine will come into the library as soon as your
breakfast duties are over."
Such was a command addressed to Morlene by Lemuel Dalton while he was
sitting at the breakfast table in the Dalton house, a few days subsequent
to the happenings recorded in the preceding chapter.
Morlene passed out of the dining room into the kitchen to tell Aunt
Catherine what Lemuel Dalton had said. But Aunt Catherine had heard for
herself and was so much agitated by what she thought were sinister purposes
revealed by his tone of voice, that she began to tremble violently. A plate
which she was washing fell to the floor and broke, whereupon she whispered
to Morlene in tremulous tones:
"Dar, now! I shuah knows dar is trubble brewin' 'round 'bout heah. Las'
night I drempt 'bout snakes an' didn't git to kill 'um. All dis mornin' my
right eye hez been jumpin' fit to kill, an' now I dun broke dis plate. W'en
hez Aunt Catherine broke er plate afo' dis? Shuah's yer bawn, chile, dar is
trubble brewin' in dis 'neck ub de woods.'" In a still lower whisper she
said: "I wondah whut debbilmint our young marster's got in his he'd ter
sen' fur us?"
Morlene, who was also apprehensive, shook her head slowly, signifying that
the master was an enigma to her as well.
After the lapse of a few minutes, Aunt Catherine and Morlene repaired to
the library, where they found Lemuel Dalton tilted back in his desk chair,
his hands clasped behind his head. Turning the gaze of his gray eyes full
upon Aunt Catherine and Morlene, who were sitting together, he began:
"Both of you are aware of the fact that I am now the proprietor of this
place. I have one more task which I wish to perform as plain Lemuel Dalton.
I will be rid of that task to-day, I think. To-morrow I intend assuming
charge here. I shall have no Negroes whatever about me, and the two of you
will please prepare to leave when I take charge to-morrow."
Aunt Catherine groaned audibly at the announcement and her dilated eyes
showed that she viewed the suggestion with a species of horror. Morlene was
self-contained, being careful not to exhibit any emotion, if she felt any.
Lemuel Dalton, desirous of preventing an outburst of grief from Aunt
Catherine, hastened to say:
"You will go from the place well provided for. I find, according to my
uncle's memorandum, that there are six hundred and forty-eight dollars to
your credit, money which was due you, but not called for by you. I notice
that you have been accustomed to give largely to objects of charity, else
this sum to your credit would be the larger. You will find the amount in
this package." So saying, he lightly tossed the package into her lap.
"Morlene, I find a note in my uncle's memorandum which states that you are
entitled to be cared for by the Dalton estate so long as you live. I know
not what is the ground of your claim, nor do I care to know. I shall see to
it that you do not suffer. Understand, however, that you will always apply
to my lawyers for aid and not to me. With this one thousand dollars which I
now hand to you, our personal dealings come to a close."
He tossed the package of money, which was in currency, toward Morlene, but
she took pains to see that it fell upon the floor and not upon her lap.
This was done so adroitly that Lemuel Dalton did not know but that the
failure of the package to reach its destination was due to his poor
marksmanship.
Aunt Catherine asked in broken tones: "Marse Lemuel, will yer 'mit me ter
say er word?"
A frown of impatience appeared upon Lemuel Dalton's brow, but he nodded
assent.
Aunt Catherine stood up and began:
"Marse Lemuel, I wuz bawned on dis place. I wuz brung up hear ez a chile,
and all de fun an' frolics I ebber hed wuz right heah. Marse an' missus
'lowed me an' my ole man ter marry heah. It was in front ub dis very house
whar us, my ole man an' me, jumpt ober de brum stick es a marrige cerimony.
Since I hez been an 'oman ebry baby bawn in dis hous' hez cum in ter dese
arms fust. Yer own daddy Erasmus wuz one ob um, an' a lackly littul fellah
he wuz, too. Dese hans you see heah hez shrouded de Dalton dead since I ken
ricermimber. Durin' war times, w'en udder darkies wuz brakin' dey necks ter
go ter de Yankees, I staid right by missus an' I'se been in dis house ebber
since.
"Nachally, Marse Lemuel, I lubs dis spot. I jes' doan' know nuthin' else. I
hed hoped to die heah an' be bur'i'd at de feet ub missus, for she promis'
me wid her dyin' bref ter let me wait fur de trump ub Gabrul by her side.
Now, Marse Lemuel, doan' dribe me erway. I'll wuck an' not charge nary
cent. I wants to stay whar I ken plant flowers on de grave ub Maury an' de
rest. Gib me er cot an' let me sleep in de ole barn lof' whar I played ez
er gal; but doan' dribe me erway."
Here Aunt Catherine burst forth into sobbing.
Lemuel Dalton's frown deepened. He arose and walked to the window, his back
to Aunt Catherine, who now dropped upon her knees to pray for God to
reinforce her plea.
Lemuel turned, and discovering Aunt Catherine in an attitude of prayer,
said: "That is all unnecessary, Catherine. My mind is made up. I do not
mean to be unkind, but I simply shall not have Negroes about me."
Aunt Catherine finished her prayer and arose. Taking the money which Lemuel
Dalton had given her, she said in gentle tones: "Whut I did fur our folkses
wuz fur lub. You shan't spile my lub by payin' me fur whut I hez dun." So
saying, she walked over to Lemuel Dalton in an humble attitude and dropped
the package of money at his feet. She then turned and went slowly and
disconsolately out of the room, her head drooping as she shuffled along.
Morlene, who had manifested great self-control during the whole of the
affecting scene, now arose and boldly faced Lemuel Dalton.
"Sir," said she, her eyes filled with tears, "it takes no prophet to
foretell that terrible sorrows await you! He who ignores human emotions,
will find many in this world more than a match for him at his own game! As
for the money which you gave me, I shall not touch one penny of it. Really,
I do not care to have my life linked by means of the smallest thread to a
man who shall come forth from the 'mills of the gods' ground as you will
be. You have not my anger, sir, but my most profound pity." So saying, she,
too, left the room.
Lemuel Dalton was seized with a nameless, indefinable terror, that caused
his blood to grow chill; and in that instant the consciousness came to him
with the certainty of a revelation that Morlene had spoken the truth. But
this feeling only remained for a few seconds. It was but a forerunner,
years ahead of its time. He cast it off, seeking to assure himself that
belief in a premonition was but an idle superstition. When he had fully
recovered his composure he said:
"Now, I like that plucky spirit manifested by the girl. Give me, every
time, the haughty sufferer, too proud to crouch beneath the lash even when
its sting is keenest. I want none of your whining suppliants. A plague on
these Negroes who meet injury with woe-begone expressions. That sort of
thing tends to make the Anglo-Saxon chicken-hearted in dealing with them.
The more a Negro whines and supplicates the worse I hate him. But I tell
you I like the spirit of that girl." Such was Lemuel Dalton's soliloquy.
"But other tasks await me," he said. Taking a pistol from his hip pocket,
he thoroughly examined it to see that it was in prime condition in every
respect. Satisfied on this score, he put it back into the pocket from which
he had taken it. Going out to the stable, he mounted his horse and rode
away, taking the road that had been made to pass through and connect the
several parts of the vast Dalton estate. On every side of him were tokens
of what the forces of nature were doing for him. The earth holding in her
bosom the roots of acres of Indian corn, was yielding up her substance that
the grain might ripen unto harvest. The stalks were bravely bearing the
swelling ears. The beautiful drooping blades drank in the contributions
that the sun and the air had to bestow.
Thus all nature was at one working for the welfare of the future master of
the Dalton place. But he had no eye for nature's loving panorama. A master
passion had his soul within its grasp.