Page 22 of Sons and Fathers


  CHAPTER XXII.

  THE DUEL AT SUNRISE.

  From that moment they discussed the arrangements formally. These weresoon made and Thomas departed.

  Edward, regaining his coolness in the wing-room, with the assistance ofVirdow, who had been awakened by the disturbance, carried the body ofRita to the house in the yard and sent for a suburban physician near athand. The man of medicine pronounced the woman dead. Negroes from thequarters were summoned and took the body in charge. These arrangementscompleted, he met the general in the hall.

  "A settlement is impossible," said the latter, sadly. "Get your buggy!Efforts may be made by arrests to stop this affair. You must go homewith me to-night." Virdow was put in charge of the premises and anexcuse made.

  Alone, Edward returned to the side of the dead woman. Long and earnestlyhe studied her face, and at last said: "Farewell!" Then he went toGerald's room and laid his lips upon the marble brow of the sleeper.Upstairs he put certain papers and the little picture in his pocket,closed the mother's room door and locked it. He turned and looked backupon the white-columned house as he rode away. Only eight weeks hadpassed since he first entered its doors.

  Before leaving, the general had stabled his horse and telephoned Montjoyat the hotel. Taking a rear street he passed with Edward through thecity and before daylight drew up in front of the Cedars.

  Dueling at the time these events transpired was supposed to be dead inthe south, and practically it was. The press and pulpit, the changedsystem of business and labor, state laws, but, above all these,occupation had rendered it obsolete; but there was still an element thatresorted to the code for the settlement of personal grievances, andsometimes the result was a bloody meeting. The new order of things wasso young that it really took more courage to refuse to fight than tofight a duel. The legal evasion was the invitation to conclude thecorrespondence outside the state.

  The city was all excitement. The morning papers had columns and blackhead lines setting forth all the facts that could be obtained, and morebesides. There was also a brief card from Edward Morgan, denouncing theauthor of the letter which had appeared in the extra and denying allcharges brought against him, both personal and political.

  At Mr. Royson's boarding place nothing had been seen of him since thepublication of the card, and his office was closed. Who it was thatacted for Edward Morgan was a matter of surmise, but Col. Montjoy andGen. Evan were in the city and quartered at the hotel. The latter hadgone to Ilexhurst and had not returned.

  Peace warrants for Morgan and Royson had been issued and placed in thehands of deputies, and two of them had watched outside a glass room atIlexhurst waiting for a man who was asleep inside, and who had beenpointed out to them by a German visitor as Mr. Morgan, to awaken. Thesleeper, however, proved to be Gerald Morgan, an invalid.

  At noon a bulletin was posted to the effect that Thomas and Royson hadbeen seen on a South Carolina train; then another that Gen. Evan andEdward Morgan were recognized in Alabama; then came Tennessee rumors.

  The truth was, so far as Edward Morgan was concerned, he was awakenedbefore noon, given a room in a farmhouse, remote from the Evan dwelling,and there settled down to write important letters. One of these hesigned in the presence of witnesses. The last one contained the picture,some papers and a short note to Gen. Evan; also Edward's surmises as toGerald's identity. The other letters were for Virdow, Gerald and Mary.He had not signed the last when Evan entered the room, but was sittingwith arms folded above it and his head resting on them.

  "Letter writing!" said the general. "That is the worst feature of thesedifficulties." He busied himself with a case he carried, turning hisback. Edward sealed his letter and completed his package.

  "Well," he said, rising. "I am now at your service, Gen. Evan!"

  "The horses are ready. We shall start at once and I will give youinstructions on the way."

  The drive was thirty miles, to a remote station upon a branch road,where the horses were left.

  Connection was made with the main line, yet more distant, and the nextdawn found them at a station on the Florida border.

  They had walked to the rendezvous and were waiting; Edward stood in deepthought, his eyes fixed upon vacancy, his appearance suggesting profoundmelancholy. The general watched him furtively and finally withuneasiness. After all, the young man was a stranger to him. He had beendrawn into the difficulty by his sympathies, and based his own safetyupon his ability to read men. Experience upon the battle field, however,had taught him that men who have never been under fire sometimes fail atthe last moment from a physical weakness unsuspected by even themselves.What if this man should fail? He went up to Edward and laid a hand uponhis shoulder.

  "My young friend, when you are as old as I you will realize that incases like this the less a man thinks the better for his nerves.Circumstances have removed you from the realm of intellect and heart.You are now simply the highest type of an animal, bound to preserve selfby a formula, and that is the blunt fact." Edward seemed to listenwithout hearing.

  "General," he said, presently, "I do not want your services in thisaffair under a misapprehension. I have obeyed directions up to thismoment, but before the matter goes further I must tell you what is in mymind. My quarrel with Amos Royson is because of his injury to me and hisinjury to my friends through me. He has made charges, and the customs ofthis country, its traditions, make those charges an injury. I believethe man has a right to resent any injury and punish the spirit behindit." Gen. Evan was puzzled. He waited in silence.

  "I did not make these fine distinctions at first, but the matter hasbeen upon my mind and now I wish you to understand that if this poorwoman were my mother I would not fight a duel even if I could, simplybecause someone told me so in print. If it were true, this story, therewould be no shame to me in it; there would be no shame to me unless Ideserted her. If it were true I should be her son in deed and truth. Iwould take her by the hand and seek her happiness in some other land.For, as God is my judge, to me the world holds nothing so sacred as amother, and I would not exchange the affections of such were she thelowliest in the land, for all the privileges of any society. It is rightthat you should know the heart of the man you are seconding. If I fallmy memory shall be clear of the charge of unmanliness."

  Gen. Evan's appearance, under less tragic circumstances, would have beencomical. For one instant, and for the first time in his life, hesuffered from panic. His eyes, after a moment of wide-open amazement,turned helplessly toward the railroad and he began to feel for hisglasses. When he got them adjusted he studied his companion critically.But the explosion that should have followed when the situation shapeditself in the old slaveholder's mind did not come. He saw before him theform of his companion grow and straighten, and the dark eyes, softenedby emotion, shining fearlessly into his. It was the finest appeal thatcould have been made to the old soldier. He stretched out his handimpulsively.

  "Unorthodox, but, by heavens, I like it!" he said.

  The up-train brought Royson and Thomas and a surgeon from a Floridatown. Evan was obliged to rely upon a local doctor.

  At sunrise the two parties stood in the shadow of live oaks, not farapart. Evan and Thomas advanced and saluted each other formally. Evanwaited sadly for the other to speak; there was yet time for an honorablesettlement. Men in the privacy of their own rooms think one way, andthink another way in the solemn silence of a woodland sunrise.

  And preceding it all in this instance there had been hours forreflection and hours of nervous apprehension. The latter told plainlyupon Amos Royson. White and haggard, he moved restlessly about hisstation, watching the seconds and ever and anon stealing side-longglances at Morgan. Why, he asked himself, did the man stare at him withthat fixed, changeless expression? Was he seeking to destroy his nerves,to overpower him with superior will? No. The gaze was simplycontemplative; the gaze of one looking upon a landscape and consideringits features. But it was a never-ending one to all appearances.

  Hope died away
from the general's heart at the first words of Thomas.

  "We are here, Gen. Evan. What is your pleasure as to the arrangements? Iwould suggest that we proceed at once to end this affair. I notice thatwe are beginning to attract attention and people are gathering."

  The general drew him aside and they conversed. The case of pistols wasopened, the weapons examined and carefully loaded and then the groundwas stepped off--fifteen paces upon a north and south line, with thelow, spreading mass of live oaks behind each station. There were noperpendicular lines, no perspective, to influence the aim of eitherparty. There were really no choice of positions, but one had to bechosen. A coin flashed in the sunlight as it rose and descended.

  "We win," said Thomas, simply, "and choose the north stand. Take yourplace." The general smiled grimly.

  "I have faced north before," he said. He stood upon the pointdesignated, and pointed to Edward. Then the latter was forced to speak.He still gazed fixedly upon his antagonist. The general looked steadilyinto his pale face, and, pointing to his own track as he moved aside,said:

  "Keep cool, now, my boy, and fire instantly. These pistols are heavierthan revolvers; I chose them because the recoil of a revolver isdestructive of an amateur's aim. These will shoot to the spot. Keepcool, keep cool, for God's sake, and remember the insult!"

  "Have no fear for me," said Morgan. "I will prove that no blood of aslave is here!"

  He took the weapon and stood in position. He had borne in mind all themorning the directions given by Gerald; he knew every detail of thatfigure facing him in the now bright sunlight; he had sketched it indetail to the mouth that uttered its charge against him. The hour mightpass with no disaster to him; he might fall a corpse or a cripple forlife; but so long as life lasted this picture would remain. A man with ahard, pale face, a white shirt front, dark trousers, hand claspingnervously a weapon, and behind all the deep green of the oaks, withtheir chiaroscuro. Only one thing would be missing; the picture in mind,clear cut and perfect in every other detail, lacked a mouth!

  Some one is calling to them.

  "Are you ready, gentlemen?" 'Twas the hundredth part of a second, butwithin it he answered "yes," ready to put the pencil to that lastfeature--to complete the picture for all time!

  "Fire!" He raised his brush and touched the spot; there was a crash, ashock, and--what were they doing? His picture had fallen from its frameand they were lifting it. But it was complete; the carmine was spatteredall over the lower face. He heard the general's voice:

  "Are you hurt, Edward?" and the pistol was taken from his grasp.

  "Hurt! No, indeed! But I seemed to have spoiled my painting, General.Look! My brush must have slipped; the paint was too thin."

  The general hurried away.

  "Keep your place; don't move an inch! Can I be of assistance,gentlemen?" he continued to the opposite party; our surgeon can aid you,my principal being uninjured. He paused; an exclamation of horrorescaped him. The mouth and nose of Royson seemed crushed in, and he wasfrantically spitting broken teeth from a bloody gap where his mouth hadbeen. The surgeons worked rapidly to stay the flow of crimson. Whilethus busy the general in wonder picked up Royson's pistol. Its triggerand guard were gone. He looked at the young man's right hand; theforefinger was missing.

  "An ugly wound, gentlemen," he said, "but not fatal, I think. The ballstruck the guard, cut away a finger, and drove the weapon against themouth and nose."

  The surgeon looked up.

  "You are right, I think. A bad disfigurement of those features, but nota dangerous wound." Thomas saluted.

  "I have to announce my principal disabled, General."

  "We are then satisfied."

  Returning to Edward, who was quietly contemplating the scene with littleapparent interest, he said, almost gayly:

  "A fine shot, Edward; a fine shot! His pistol saved him! If he hadraised it an instant later he would have been struck fairly in the mouthby your bullet! Let us be going."

  "It is perhaps fortunate that my shot was fired when it was," saidEdward. "I have a bullet hole through the left side of my shirt." Thegeneral looked at the spot and then at the calm face of the speaker.

  He extended his hand again.

 
Harry Stillwell Edwards's Novels