WEIGHTY MATTERS.
With his hands thrust into his pockets, and his hat pulled over his
grief stricken eyes, Bernard slowly wended his way to his boarding
place.
He locked himself in his room and denied himself to all callers. He
paced to and fro, his heart a cataract of violent, tossing, whirling
emotions. He sat down and leaned his head upon the bed, pressing his
hand to his forehead as if to restore order there. While thus employed
his landlady knocked at the door and called through the key hole,
informing him that there was a telegram for him. Bernard arose, came
out, signed for and received the telegram, tore it open and read as
follows:
Waco, Texas, ----l8----
"HON. BERNARD BELGRAVE, M.C.,
"Come to Waco at once. If you fail to come you will make the
mistake of your life. Come.
"BELTON PIEDMONT."
"Yes, I'll go," shouted Bernard, "anywhere, for anything." He seemed
to feel grateful for something to divert his thoughts and call him
away from the scene where his hopes had died. He sent Viola's family
a note truthfully stating that he was unequal to the task of attending
Viola's funeral, and that for his part she was not dead and never
should be. The parents had read Bernard's letter left by Viola and
knew the whole story. They, too, felt that it was best for Bernard to
go. Bernard took the train that afternoon and after a journey of four
days arrived at Waco.
Belton being apprised by telegram of the hour of his arrival, was at
the station to meet him. Belton was actually shocked at the haggard
appearance of his old play-fellow. It was such a contrast from the
brilliant, glowing, handsome Bernard of former days.
After the exchange of greetings, they entered a carriage and drove
through the city. They passed out, leaving the city behind. After
going about five miles, they came in sight of a high stone wall
enclosure. In the middle of the enclosed place, upon a slight
elevation, stood a building four stories high and about two hundred
feet long and one hundred and eighty feet wide. In the center of the
front side arose a round tower, half of it bulging out. This extended
from the ground to a point about twenty feet above the roof of the
building. The entrance to the building was through a wide door in this
tower. Off a few paces was a small white cottage. Here and there trees
abounded in patches in the enclosure, which seemed to comprise about
twenty acres.
The carriage drove over a wide, gravel driveway which curved so as to
pass the tower door, and on out to another gate. Belton and Bernard
alighted and proceeded to enter. Carved in large letters on the top
of the stone steps were these words: "Thomas Jefferson College." They
entered the tower and found themselves on the floor of an elevator,
and on this they ascended to the fourth story. The whole of this story
was one huge room, devoid of all kinds of furniture save a table and
two chairs in a corner. In the center was an elevated platform about
ten feet square, and on this stood what might have passed for either a
gallows or an acting pole.
Belton led Bernard to the spot where the two chairs and table stood
and they sat down. Belton informed Bernard that he had brought him
there so that there would be no possibility of anyone hearing what, he
had to say. Bernard instantly became all attention. Belton began his
recital: "I have been so fortunate as to unearth a foul conspiracy
that is being hatched by our people. I have decided to expose them and
see every one of them hung,"
"Pray tell me, Belton, what is the motive that prompts you to be so
zealous in the work of ferreting out conspirators among your people to
be hanged by the whites?"
"It is this," said Belton: "you know as it is, the Negro has a hard
time in this country. If we begin to develop traitors and conspirators
we shall fare even worse. It is necessary, therefore, that we kill
these vipers that come, lest we all be slain as vipers."
"That may be true, but I don't like to see you in that kind of
business," said Bernard.
"Don't talk that way," said Belton, "for I counted upon your aid. I
desire to secure you as prosecuting attorney in the case. When we thus
expose the traitors, we shall earn the gratitude of the government
and our race will be treated with more consideration in the future. We
will add another page to the glorious record of our people's devotion
by thus spurning these traitors."
"Belton, I tell you frankly that my share in that kind of business
will be infinitessimally small. But go on. Let me know the whole
story, that I may know better what to think and do," replied Bernard.
"Well, it is this," began Belton; "you know that there is one serious
flaw in the Constitution of the United States, which has already
caused a world of trouble, and there is evidently a great deal more to
come. You know that a ship's boilers, engines, rigging, and so forth
may be in perfect condition, but a serious leak in her bottom
will sink the proudest vessel afloat. This flaw or defect in the
Constitution of the United States is the relation of the General
Government to the individual state. The vague, unsettled state of
the relationship furnished the pretext for the Civil War. The General
Government says to the citizen: 'I am your sovereign. You are my
citizen and not the citizen of only one state. If I call on you
to defend my sovereignty, you must do so even if you have to fight
against your own state. But while I am your supreme earthly sovereign
I am powerless to protect you against crimes, injustices, outrages
against you. Your state may disfranchise you with or without law,
may mob you; but my hands are so tied that I can't help you at all,
although I shall force you to defend my sovereignty with your lives.
If you are beset by Klu Klux, White Cappers, Bulldozers, Lynchers, do
not turn your dying eyes on me for I am unable to help you.' Such is
what the Federal Government has to say to the Negro. The Negro must
therefore fight to keep afloat a flag that can afford him no more
protection than could a helpless baby. The weakness of the General
Government in this particular was revealed with startling clearness
in connection with the murder of those Italians in New Orleans, a few
years ago. This government had promised Italy to afford protection to
the property and lives of her citizens sojourning in our midst. But
when these men were murdered the General Government could not even
bring the murderers to trial for their crime. Its treaty had been
broken by a handfull of its own citizens and it was powerless to
punish them. It had to confess its impotence to the world, and paid
Italy a specified sum of money. The Negro finds himself an unprotected
foreigner in his own home. Whatever outrages may be perpetrated upon
him by the people of the state in which he lives, he cannot expect
any character of redress from the General Government. So in order to
supply this needed protection, this conspiracy of which I have spoken
has been formed to attempt to unite all Negroes in a body to do that
which the whimpering government childishly but truthfully says it
cannot do.
"These men are determined to secure protection for their lives and
the full enjoyment of all rights and privileges due American citizens.
They take a solemn oath, offering their very blood for the cause. I
see that this will lead, eventually, to a clash of arms, and I wish
to expose the conspiracy before it is too late. Cooperate with me and
glory and honor shall attend us all of our days. Now, Bernard, tell me
candidly what you think of the whole matter. May I not rely on you?"
"Well, let me tell you just exactly what I think and just what I shall
do," thundered Bernard, rising as he spoke. Pointing his finger
at Belton, he said: "I think, sir, that you are the most infernal
scoundrel that I ever saw, and those whom you call conspirators are a
set of sublime patriots; and further," hissed Bernard in rage through
his teeth, "if you betray those men, I will kill you."
To Bernard's surprise Belton did not seem enraged as Bernard thought
he would be. Knowing Belton's spirit he had expected an encounter
after such words as he had just spoken.
Belton looked indifferent and unconcerned, and arose, as if to yawn,
when suddenly he threw himself on Bernard with the agility of a tiger
and knocked him to the floor. From secret closets in the room sprang
six able bodied men. They soon had Bernard securely bound. Belton then
told Bernard that he must retract what he had said and agree to keep
his revealed purpose a secret or he would never leave that room alive.
"Then I shall die, and my only regret will be that I shall die at the
hands of such an abominable wretch as you are," was Bernard's answer.
Bernard was stood against the wall. The six men retired to
their closets and returned with rifles. Bernard gazed at the men
unflinchingly. They formed a line, ten paces in front of him. Belton
gave Bernard one last chance, as he said, to save his life, by silence
as to his plans.
Bernard said: "If I live I shall surely proclaim your infamy to our
people and slay you besides. The curse of our doomed race is just such
white folks' niggers as you are. Shoot, shoot, shoot, you whelps."
They took aim and, at a command from Belton, fired. When the smoke had
lifted, Belton said: "Bernard, those were blank cartridges. I desired
to give you another chance. If you consent to leave me unmolested to
ferret out those conspirators I will take your word as your bond and
spare your life. Will you accept your life at such a low price?"
"Come here and let me give you my answer," said Bernard. "Let me
whisper something in your ear."
Belton drew near and Bernard spat in his face and said, "Take that,
you knave."
Belton ordered Bernard seized and carried to the center of the room
where stood what appeared to be an acting pole, but what was in
reality a complete gallows. A black cap was adjusted over Bernard's
head and a rope tied to his hands. He was told that a horrible death
awaited him. He was informed that the platform on which he stood was
a trap door that concealed an opening in the center of the building,
that extended to the first floor. He was told that he would be dropped
far enough to have his arms torn from his body and would be left to
die.
Bernard perceptibly shuddered at the fate before him but he had
determined long since to be true to every higher aspiration of his
people, and he would die a death however horrible rather than stand
by and see aspiring souls slaughtered for organizing to secure their
rights at all hazards. He muttered a prayer to God, closed his eyes,
gritted his teeth and nerved himself for the ordeal, refusing to
answer Belton's last appeal.
Belton gave command to spring the trap door after he had counted
three. In order to give Bernard a chance to weaken he put one minute
between each count. "One----Two----Three----" he called out.
Bernard felt the floor give way beneath his feet and he shot down with
terrific speed. He nerved himself for the shock that was to tear his
limbs from his body, but, strange to say, he felt the speed lessening
as he fell and his feet eventually struck a floor with not sufficient
force to even jar him severely. "Was this death? Was he dead or
alive?" he was thinking within himself, when suddenly the mask was
snatched from his face and he found himself in a large room containing
desks arranged in a semi-circular form. There were one hundred and
forty-five desks, and at each a person was seated.
"Where was he? What did that assemblage mean? What did his strange
experiences mean?" he asked himself. He stood there, his hands tied,
his eye wandering from face to face.
Within a few minutes Belton entered and the assemblage broke forth
into cheers. Bernard had alighted on a platform directly facing the
assemblage. Belton walked to his side and spread out his hands and
said: "Behold the Chiefs of the conspirators whom you would not
betray. Behold me, whom they have called the arch conspirator. You
have nobly stood the test. Come, your reward awaits you. You are
worthy of it and I assure you it is worthy of you."
Bernard had not been killed in his fall because of a parachute which
had been so arranged, unknown to him, to save him in the descent.