The negro shook his head grimly. “Den he wouldn't come, sah. No, sah. He
knows dat Tom Higbee's bound to go fo' him or leave de place, and Marse
Jack wouldn't mind settlin' HIM too as well as his brudder, for de
scores is agin' de Doomonts yet. And Marse Jack ain't no slouch wid a
scatter gun.”
At any other time the imminence of this survival of a lawless barbarism
of which he had heard so much would have impressed Courtland; now he was
only interested in it on account of the inconceivable position in which
it left Miss Sally. Had she anything to do with this baleful cousin's
return, or was she only to be a helpless victim of it?
A white, dazzling, and bewildering flash of lightning suddenly lit
up the room, the porch, the dripping ailantus, and the flooded street
beyond. It was followed presently by a crash of thunder, with what
seemed to be a second fainter flash of lightning, or rather as if the
first flash had suddenly ignited some inflammable substance. With the
long reverberation of the thunder still shaking the house, Courtland
slipped quickly out of the window and passed down to the gate.
“Did it strike anything, sah?” said the startled negro, as Courtland
returned.
“Not that I can see,” said his employer shortly. “Go inside, and call
Zoe and her daughter from the cabin and bring them in the hall. Stay
till I come. Go!--I'll shut the windows myself.”
“It must have struck somewhere, sah, shuah! Deh's a pow'ful smell of
sulphur right here,” said the negro as he left the room.
Courtland thought so too, but it was a kind of sulphur that he had
smelled before--on the battlefield! For when the door was closed behind
his overseer he took the lamp to the opposite wall and examined it
carefully. There was the distinct hole made by a bullet which had missed
Cato's head at the open window by an inch.
CHAPTER VI.
In an instant Courtland had regained complete possession of himself. His
distracting passion--how distracting he had never before realized--was
gone! His clear sight--no longer distorted by sentiment--had come back;
he saw everything in its just proportion--his duty, the plantation, the
helpless freedman threatened by lawless fury; the two women--no longer
his one tantalizing vision, but now only a passing detail of the work
before him. He saw them through no aberrating mist of tenderness or
expediency--but with the single directness of the man of action.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account