CHAPTER XXI.
"THE WITNESS IS DEAD."
In his room at the hotel Col. Montjoy awaited the return of his friendEvan, who had gone to find out how, as he expressed it the boys weregetting on with their fight.
"I will strike the trail somewhere," he said, lightly. But he wasgreatly disturbed over Col. Montjoy's concern, and noticed at once thebad physical effect it had on him. His policy was to make light of thematter, but he knew it was serious.
To force Royson to back down was now his object; in the event of thatfailing, to see that Morgan had a fair show.
The colonel had removed his shoes and coat and was lying on the bed whenEvan returned. "I think I have given them a basis of settlement," saidthe general. "I have vouched for the fact that the statements inRoyson's letter are erroneous. Upon my declaration he can retract andapologize, or he must fight. I found him consulting with Thomas andothers, and I took it for granted he was looking for some way to dodge."
The colonel looked at him in surprise. "But how could you?"
"Upon my faith in John Morgan! He was a man of honor! He would neverhave left his property to this man and put him upon the community ifthere had been a cloud upon his title to gentility," and then he added,with emotion: "A man who was willing to give his daughter to a friendcan risk a great deal to honor that friend's memory."
"There is but one Albert Evan in the world," said Montjoy, after a longsilence.
The general was getting himself a glass of wine. "Well, there is but onesuch Montjoy, for that matter, but we two old fellows lose time sittingup to pay each other compliments! There is much to be done. I am goingout to see Morgan; he is so new here he may need help! You stay and keepquiet. The town is full of excitement over this affair, and people watchme as if I were a curiosity. You can study on politics if you will;consider the proposition that if Royson retracts we are entitled toanother trial over yonder in the lost county; that or we will threatenthem with an independent race."
"No! I am too glad to have a chance to stay out honorably. I know nowthat my candidacy was a mistake. It has weakened me here fatally."
Col. Montjoy placed his hand over his heart wearily. The general broughthim the glass of wine he held.
"Nonsense! Too many cigars! Here's to long life, old friend, and to thegallant Fire-Eaters." He laughed lightly over his remembrance of thecheckmate he had accomplished, buttoned the blue coat over his broadchest and started. "I am going now to look in upon my outpost and seewhat arrangements have been made for the night. So far we hold thestrong positions. Look for me about daylight!" And, lying there alone,his friend drifted back in thought to Mary. He was not satisfied.
The door stood open at Ilexhurst when the general alighted. There was noanswer to his summons; he entered the lighted hall and went to thelibrary. Edward was sleeping quietly upon a lounge.
"What!" exclaimed the general, cheerily, "asleep on guard!" Edwardsprang to his feet.
"Gen. Evan!"
"Exactly; and as no one answered my summons to surrender I tookpossession." Apologizing, Edward drew a chair, and they became seated.
"Seriously, my young friend," began the old soldier. "I was in the cityto-night and have learned from Col. Montjoy of the infamy perpetratedupon you. My days of warfare are over, but I could not sit by and seeone to whom we all owe so much imposed upon. Let me add, also, that Iwas very much charmed with you, Mr. Morgan. If there is anything I cando for you in the way of advice and guidance in this matter kindlycommand me. I might say the same thing for Montjoy, who is at the hotel,but unfortunately, as you may not know, his daughter-in-law is Mr.Royson's cousin, and acting upon my advice he is silent until thenecessity for action arises. I know him well enough to add that you canrely upon his sympathy, and if needed, his aid. I have advised him totake no action, as in the first place he is not needed, and in thesecond it may bring about an estrangement between his son and himself."
Edward was very grateful and expressed himself earnestly, but his headwas in a whirl. He was thinking of the woman's story, and of Gerald.
"Such a piece of infamy as is embraced in that publication," said thegeneral, when finally the conversation went direct to the heart of thetrouble, "was never equaled in this state. Have they replied to yournote?"
"Not yet. I am waiting for the answer!"
"And your--cousin--is he here to receive it?"
"Gerald? Yes, he is here--that is, excuse me, I will see!"
Somewhat alarmed over the possibility of Gerald's absence, he hurriedthrough the house to the wing, and then into the glass-room. Gerald wasasleep. The inevitable little box of pellets upon his table told the sadstory. Edward could not awaken him.
"It is unfortunate, very," he said, re-entering the library hurriedly,"but Gerald is asleep and cannot be aroused. The truth is, he is avictim of opium. The poor fellow is now beyond cure, I am afraid; he isfrail, nervous, excitable, and cannot live without the drug. The day hasbeen a very trying one for him, and this is the first time he has beenout in years!"
"He must be awakened," said the general. "Of course he cannot, in theevent that these fellows want to fight, go on the field; and then hisrelationship! But to-night! To-night he must be aroused! Let me go withyou." Edward started almost in terror.
"It might not be well, General--it is not necessary--"
"On the contrary, a strange voice may have more effect than yours--noladies about? Of course not! Lead on, I follow." Greatly confused,Edward led the way. As they reached the wing he exclaimed the fact ofthe glass-room, the whim, the fancy of an imaginative mind, and thenthey entered.
Gerald was sleeping, as was his habit, with one arm extended, the otherunder his head; his long hair clustering about his face. The light wasburning brightly, and the general approached. Thrilled to the heart,Edward steeled himself for a shock. It was well he did. The general bentforward and laid his hand on the sleeper's shoulder. Then he steppedquickly back, seized Edward with the strength of a giant and stood theretrembling, his eyes riveted upon the pale face on the pillow.
"Am I dreaming?" he asked, in a changed voice. "Is this--the youngman--you spoke of?"
"It is Gerald Morgan."
"Strange! Strange! That likeness! The likeness of one who will neverwake again, my friend, never! Excuse me; I was startled, overwhelmed! Iwould have sworn I looked upon that face as I did in the olden time,when I used to go and stand in the moonlight and dream above it!"
"Ah," said Edward, his heart turning to ice within him, "whose was it?"The answer came in a whisper.
"It was my wife's face first, and then it was the face of my daughter!"He drew himself up proudly, and, looking long upon the sleeper, said,gently: "They shall not waken you, poor child. Albert Evan will takeyour place!" With infinite tenderness he brushed back a lock of hairthat fell across the white brow and stood watching him.
Edward turned from the scene with a feeling that it was too sacred forintrusion. Over the sleeping form stood the old man. A generation ofloneliness, of silence, of dignified, uncomplaining manhood lay betweenthem. What right had he, an alien, to be dumb when a word might bringhope and interest back to that saddened life? Was he less noble than theman himself--than the frail being locked in the deathlike slumber?
He glanced once more at Gerald. How he had risen to the issue, and inthe face of every instinct of a shrinking nature had done his part untilthe delicate machinery gave way! Suppose their positions were reversed;that he lay upon the bed, and Gerald stood gazing into the night throughthe dew-gemmed glass, possessed of such a secret. Would he hesitate? No!The answer formed itself instantly--not unless he had base blood in hisveins.
It was that taint that now held back him, Edward Morgan; he was acoward. And yet, what would be the effect if he should burst out in thatstrange place with his fearful secret? There would be an outcry; Ritawould be dragged in, her story poured forth, and on him the old man'seyes would be turned in horror and pity. Then the published card wouldstand a sentence of social degra
dation, and he in a foreign land wouldnurse the memory of a woman and his disgrace. And Royson! He ground histeeth.
"I will settle that first," he said in a hoarse whisper, "and then if itis true I will prove, God helping me, that His spirit can animate eventhe child of a slave!" He bowed his head upon his breast and wept.
Presently there came to him a consciousness that the black shadowpressing against the glass almost at his feet was more than a shadow. Ittook the form of a human being and moved; then the glass gave way andthrough the shivered fragments as it fell, he saw the face of Rita sinkfrom view. With a loud cry he dashed at the door and sprang into thedarkness! Her tall form lay doubled in the grass. He drew her into thepath of light that streamed out and bent above her. The woman struggledto speak, moving her head from side to side and lifting it. A groanburst from her as if she realized that the end had come and her effortwould be useless. He, too, realized it. He pointed upward quickly.
"There is your God," he said, earnestly, "waiting! Tell me in His name,am I your child? You know! A mother never forgets! Answer--close youreyes--give me a sign if they have lied to you!"
She half-rose in frantic struggle. Her eyes seemed bursting from theirsockets, and her lips framed her last sentence in almost a shriek.
"They lied!"
Edward was on his feet in an instant; his lips echoing her words. "Theylied!" The gaslight from within illumined his features, now bright withtriumph, as he looked upward.
The old general rushed out. He saw the prostrate form and fixed eyes ofthe corpse.
"What is it?" he asked, horrified. Edward turned to him, dizzily; hisgaze followed the old man's.
"Ah!" he said, "the nurse! She has died of anxiety and watching!" A loudsummons from the ponderous knocker echoed in the house. Edward, excited,had already begun to move away.
"Hold!" exclaimed the general, "where now?"
"I go to meet the slanderer of my race! God have mercy upon him now,when we come face to face!" His manner alarmed the general. He caughthim by the arm.
"Easy now, my young friend; the poor woman's fate has unnerved you; nota step further." He led Edward to the wing-room and forced him down tothe divan. "Stay until I return!" The summons without had been renewed;the general responded in person and found Marsden Thomas at the door,who gazed in amazement upon the stately form before him, and after amoment's hesitation said, stiffly:
"I have a communication to deliver to Gerald Morgan. Will you kindlysummon him, general?"
"I know your errand," said Evan, blandly, "and you need waste noceremony on me. Gerald is too ill to act longer for Edward Morgan. Itake his place to-night."
"You! Gen. Evan!"
"Why not? Did you ever hear that Albert Evan left a friend upon thefield? Come in, come in, Thomas; we are mixed up in this matter, but itis not our quarrel. I want to talk with you."
Thomas smiled; the matter was to end in a farce.
Without realizing it, these two men were probably the last in the worldto whom should have fallen an affair of honor that might have beensettled by concessions. The bluff old general defeated Thomas' effortsto stand on formal ground, got him into a seat, and went directly at thematter.
"It must strike you, Thomas, as absurd that in these days men cannotsettle their quarrels peacefully. There is obliged to be a right and awrong side always, and sometimes the right side has some fault in it andthe wrong side some justice. No man can hesitate, when this adjustmenthas been made, to align himself with one and repudiate the other. Now,we both represent friends, and neither of us can suffer them to come outof this matter smirched. I would not be willing for Royson to do so, andcertainly not for Morgan. If we can bring both parties out safely, is itnot our duty to do so? You will agree with me!" Thomas said withouthesitation:
"I waive a great deal, General, on your account, when I discuss thismatter at all; but I certainly cannot enter into the merits of thequarrel unless you withdraw your demand upon us. You have demanded aretraction of a charge made by us or satisfaction. You cannot expect meto discuss the advisability of a retraction when I have here a note--"
"Which you have not delivered, and which I, an old man sick of war andquarrels, beg that you will not deliver until we have talked over thismatter fully. Why cannot Royson retract, when he has my assurance thathe is in error?"
"For the reason, probably, General, that he does not believe yourstatements--although his friends do!" Evan arose and paced the room.Coming back he stood over the young man.
"Did he say so? By the eternal--"
"General, suppose we settle one affair at a time; I as Royson's friend,herewith hand you, his reply to the demand of Mr. Morgan. Now, give meyour opinion as to the locality where this correspondence can be quietlyand successfully concluded, in the event that your principal wishes tocontinue it." Trembling with rage the old man opened the message; itread:
"Mr. Edward Morgan--Sir. I have your communication of this date handed to me at 8 o'clock to-night by Mr. Gerald Morgan. I have no retraction or apology to make.
"Amos Royson."
Gen. Evan looked upon the missive sadly and long. He placed it upon thetable and resumed his seat, saying:
"Do you understand, Mr. Thomas, that what I have said is entirely uponmy own responsibility and as a man who thinks his age and record havegiven him a privilege with his young friends?"
"Entirely, General. And I trust you understand that I am without theprivilege of age and record, and cannot take the same liberties." Thegeneral made no reply, but was looking intently upon the face of theyoung man. Presently he said, earnestly:
"Your father and I were friends and stood together on many a bloodyfield. I bore him in my arms from Shiloh and gazed upon his dead face anhour later. No braver man ever lived than William Thomas. I believe youare the worthy son of a noble sire and incapable of any act that couldreflect disgrace upon his name."
The general continued: "You cannot link yourself to an unjust cause andescape censure; such a course would put you at war with yourself and atwar with those who hope to see you add new honors to a name already dearto your countrymen. When you aid and abet Amos Royson, in his attempt toput a stigma upon Edward Morgan, you aid and abet him in an effort to dothat for which there is no excuse. Everything stated in Royson's letter,and especially the personal part of it, can be easily disproved." Thomasreflected a moment. Finally he said:
"I thank you, General, for your kind words. The matter is not one withinmy discretion, but give me the proofs you speak of, and I will makeRoyson withdraw, if possible, or abandon the quarrel myself!"
"I have given my word; is that not enough?"
"On that only, Mr. Royson's friends require him to give Mr. Morgan therecognition of a gentleman; without it he would not. The trouble is, youcan be mistaken." Evan reflected and a look of trouble settled upon hisface.
"Mr. Thomas, I am going to make a revelation involving the honor andreputation of a family very dear to me. I do it only to save bloodshed.Give me your word of honor that never in any way, so long as you maylive, will you reveal it. I shall not offer my unsupported word; I willproduce a witness."
"You have my word of honor that your communication will be kept sacred,"said Thomas, greatly interested. The general bowed his head. Then heraised his hand above the call bell; it did not descend. The martialfigure for a moment seemed to shrink and age. When the general looked atlength toward his visitor, he said in a whisper:
"The witness is dead!" Then he arose to his feet. "It is too late!" headded, with a slight gesture; "we shall fight!"