“I don’t wonder that the time hangs heavily on his hands,” continued
the general. “Our quiet country life probably has no charms for him,
and he is lonely and homesick.”
This seemed to be the verdict of all the members of the family, who,
being willing to make due allowances and give their city relative
all the privileges he demanded, said no more about his absence. They
welcomed him very cordially when he came in, two hours later, but asked
him no questions. Indeed, Clarence did not wait to be questioned. He
went to bed almost immediately, and Don soon followed him.
The next day the general went off somewhere on business, and the
boys were left to amuse themselves in any way they pleased. Bert
and Marshall got into one of the canoes and set off to visit the
shooting-box. They asked Don and Clarence to go with them; but the
latter could not see that there was any fun in riding a mile or two in
a leaky dug-out for the purpose of looking at an old shantee in the
woods, and Don had other business on hand, so neither of them accepted
the invitation. Clarence found the most pleasure in getting away by
himself and thinking about the fortune of which he expected very soon
to be the master, while Don wanted to spend at least a portion of the
forenoon in getting ready to receive Godfrey Evans when he came to the
potato-patch that night; and as they both desired to be alone, they did
not in any way interfere with each other.
As soon as Clarence could find an excuse for so doing, he went up
stairs to his room; and Don, being left to himself, managed to secure
a rusty key which hung on a nail in the kitchen, and to effect an
entrance into a long-unused room in the rear of the barn; and he
performed both these necessary operations without attracting the
attention of any one.
As soon as he had locked the door behind him Don breathed easier, and
stopped to look about him. The room had once belonged to old Jordan,
the runaway negro, who had served as the general’s hostler in the days
gone by. Being a very faithful and a favorite servant, he had received
many favors, and was also allowed the privilege of a room to himself.
The apartment looked just as it did on the day the sable occupant
deserted it. Not a thing had been disturbed, and Don was the only one
who had entered the room since the morning following the day on which
the levee was cut. When Mrs. Gordon became satisfied that old Jordan
had run away, she gave instructions that the room should be closed
and locked and the window nailed down, so that nobody could enter it.
Jordan would be sure to come back some day, she said, and when he did,
he would find his property secure, and his room waiting for him. But
the years had gone by, the old fellow had never been heard from, and
everybody began to think he was dead.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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