CHAPTER XXIII.
THE SHADOW OVER THE HALL.
Col. Montjoy returned home early. He rode into the yard and entered thehouse with as much unconcern as he could affect. Annie met him at thedoor with an unusual display of interest. Had he rested well? Was notthe hotel warm, and--was there anything of interest stirring in thecity? To all these questions he responded guardedly and courteously.Mary's white face questioned him. He put his arm about her.
"And how is the little mamma to-day--have her eyes given her any moretrouble?"
"She is staying in the darkened room to avoid the light," said the girl.He went to her and the two young women were left alone. Annie wassmiling and bent upon aggravation.
"I think I shall ride in," she said at length. "There is something afootthat is being kept from me. Amos Royson is my cousin and I have a rightto know if he is in trouble." Mary did not reply for a moment. At lastshe said:
"A man having written such a letter must expect to find himself introuble--and danger, too." The other laughed contemptuously.
"I did not say danger! Amos has little to fear from the smooth-faced,milk-and-water man he has exposed."
"Wait and see," was the reply. "Amos Royson is a coward; he will notonly find himself in danger, but if necessary to save himself from acowhiding will involve other people--even a woman!"
"What do you mean? You have not always thought him a coward; you haveaccepted his attentions and would have married him if you had had thechance." Mary looked up quickly.
"I treated him with politeness because he was your cousin; that is all.As for marriage with him, that is too absurd to have even occurred tome."
Annie ordered Isam to bring her pony carriage, and as she waited Marywatched her in silence and with a strange expression upon her face. Whenher father returned she said, resolutely:
"Annie, I was awake last night and heard a horse coming. Thinking itmight be papa, although the pace was rather fast for him, I went out tothe gate. There was a negro with a note for you from Mr. Royson. Mammahad just got to sleep and I was afraid of waking her, so I sent Mr.Royson word to see papa at the hotel."
The sister-in-law seized her by the shoulder.
"By what right, miss, do you meddle with my business! It may have been aquestion of a man's life! You have ruined everything!" She was tremblingwith rage. Mary faced her resolutely.
"And it may have been a question of a man's honor. In either case, myfather is the one to consult!"
"Sit down, both of you! Annie--Mary, I desire this matter to end atonce!" Col. Montjoy spoke calmly but firmly. He retained his clasp uponhis daughter's hand and gradually as he talked drew her to his knees.
"There is a serious difficulty pending between Mr. Morgan and AmosRoyson, as you both probably know," he said, quietly. "The matter is ingood hands, however, and I think will be satisfactorily arranged. I donot know which were better, to have delivered Amos' note or not. It wasa question Mary had to decide upon the spur of the moment. She took asafe course, at least. But it is unseemly, my children, to quarrel overit! Drop the matter now and let affairs shape themselves. We cannot takeone side or the other." Annie made no reply, but her lips wore theirironical smile as she moved away.
Mary hid her face upon her father's breast and wept softly. She knewthat he did not blame her, and she knew by intuition that she had doneright, but she was not satisfied. No shadow should come between herfather and herself.
"I was certain," she said, "that there was something wrong in that note.You remember what I told you. And I was determined that those two peopleshould not hatch up any more mischief in this house. Mr. Morgan's safetymight have depended upon keeping them apart." The colonel laughed andshook his head. But he only said:
"If it will help clear up your skies a little, I don't mind telling youthat I would not have had that note delivered last night for half thisplantation." She was satisfied then.
"Who ordered the cart, Isam?" The negro was at the gate.
"Young mis', sah. She goin' to town."
"Well, you can put it back. It will not be necessary for her to go now.Annie," he said, turning to that lady, as she appeared in the door, "Ihave sent the cart back. I prefer that none of my family be seen uponthe streets to-day." There was an unwonted tone in his voice which shedid not dare disregard. With a furious look, which only Mary saw, shereturned to her room. A negro upon a mule brought a note. It read:
"Dear Norton: All attempts at settlement have failed. I should like to see you, but think you had better maintain strict neutrality, will wire you to-morrow.
"A. E."
"There is no answer," he said to the boy. And then, greatly depressed,he went to his room. Mary, who read every thought correctly, knew thatthe matter was unsettled and that her father was hopeless. She wentabout her duties steadily, but with her heart breaking. The chickens,pigeons, the little kids, the calves--none of them felt the tragedy intheir lives. Their mistress was grave and unappreciative; nothing more.But her eyes were not closed. She saw little Jerry armed with a note goout on the mare across the lower-creek bridge, and the expectant face ofAnnie for two hours or more in every part of the house that commanded aview of that unused approach.
Then Jerry came back and went to the sister-in-law's door. He had notreached his quarters before Mary called him to help her catch afractious hen. Then she got him into the dining-room and cut an enormousslice of iced cake.
"Jerry," she said, "how would you like that?" Jerry's white eyes andteeth shone resplendent. He shifted himself to his left foot andlaughed. "Tell me where you have been and it is yours." Jerry lookedabashed and studied a silver quarter he held in his hand, then heglanced around cautiously.
"Honest, missy?"
"Honest! Quick, or I put the cake back." She made a feint.
"Been to town."
"Of course. Who was the note for?"
"Mr. Royson."
"Did he answer it?"
"No'm. Couldn't find him. Er nigger tole me he gone ter fight wid Mr.Morgan, and everybody waitin' ter hear de news."
"You can--go--Jerry. There," she handed him the cake, and, walkingunsteadily, went to her room. She did not come out until supper time andthen her face was proof that the "headache" was not feigned.
And so into the night. She heard the doors open and shut, the sound ofher father's footsteps on the porch as he came and went. She went outand joined him, taking his arm.
"Papa," she said, after awhile, "you need not keep it from me. I knowall. They did not settle it. Mr. Morgan and Mr. Royson have gone tofight." She could not proceed. Her father laid his hand upon hers.
"It will all come out right, Mary; it will all come out right."Presently he said: "Amos used to come here. I hope you are notinterested in him."
"No," she said bitterly, "I could never think much of Annie's relatives.One in the family is enough."
"Hush, my child; everything must give way now on Norton's account. Don'tforget him. But for Norton I would have settled this matter in anotherway."
"Yes, and but for him there would never have been a necessity. Amosdepended upon his relationship to keep you out of it." Col. Montjoy hadlong unconsciously relied upon the clear mind of the girl, but he wasnot prepared for this demonstration of its wisdom. He wondered anew ashe paced the floor in silence. She continued: "But Amos is only thetool, papa; all of us have an enemy here in the house. Annie----"
"Hush! Hush!" he whispered, "don't say it. It seems too awful to thinkof! Annie is foolish! She must never know, on Norton's account, that sheis in any way suspected of complicity in this matter." And then insilence they waited for dawn.
At last the merciful sun rolled away the shadows. Breakfast was a sadaffair. All escaped from it as soon as possible.
It was a fateful day--7, 8, 9 o'clock. The matter was ended; but how?Mary's haggard face questioned her father at every turn. He put his armabout her and went to see her pets and charges, but still no wordbetween them. She would not admi
t her interest in Edward Morgan, norwould he admit to himself that she had an interest at stake.
And then toward noon there came a horseman, who placed a message in hishands. He read it and handed it to Mary. If he had not smiled she couldnot have read it. One word only was there:
"Safe!"
Her father was at the moment unfolding an 'extra.' She read it with himin breathless interest. Following an unusual display of headlines camean accurate account of the duel. Only a small part of the paddednarrative is reproduced here:
"Royson was nervous and excited and showed the effects of unrest. ButMorgan stood like a statue. For some reason he never moved his eyes fromhis adversary a moment after they reached the field. Both men fired atthe command, their weapons making but one report. Some think, however,that Morgan was first by the hundredth part of a second, and this ispossible, as the single report sounded like a crash or a prolongedexplosion. Royson fell, and it was supposed was certainly killed. Hepresented a frightful appearance instantly, being covered with blood. Itwas quickly ascertained, however, that he was not dangerously hurt, hisopponent's shot having cut off a finger and the pistol guard, had hurledthe heavy weapon into his face. He escaped with a broken nose and theloss of his front teeth.
"Morgan, who had preserved his wonderful coolness from the first,received a bullet through a fold of his shirt that darkened the skin tothe left of his heart. It was a narrow escape. Parties took the uptrain."
The extra went on to say that since the first reading of the originalcard the public mind had undergone a revulsion in Morgan's favor; afeeling greatly stimulated by the fact that Gen. Evan had come to therescue of that gentleman; had vouched for him in every respect and wasacting as his second. When the colonel had finished the thrilling newshe noticed that Mary's head was in his lap, and felt tears upon his handabove which her own were clasped. Annie was looking on, cold and white.
"There has been a duel, my daughter," he said to her kindly, "and,fortunately, without alarming results. Mr. Royson lost a finger, Ibelieve, and received a bruise in the face; that is all. Nothingserious. It might have been much worse. Here is the paper," heconcluded, "probably an exaggerated account." She took it in silence andreturned to her room. She ran her eye through every sentence withoutreading and at last threw the sheet aside.
Only those who knew the whole character of Annie Montjoy would haveunderstood. She was looking for her name; it was not there. Her smilingface was proof enough.
Long they sat, father and daughter, his hand still stroking lightly herbowed head. At last he said, very gently, the hand trembling a little:
"This has been a hard trial for us both--for us both! I am glad it isover! Morgan is too fine a fellow to have been sacrificed to this man'shatred and ambition." She looked up, her face wet and flushed.
"There was more than that, papa."
"More? How could there be?"
She hesitated, and then said, bravely: "Mr. Royson has more than onceasked me to marry him." The colonel's face grew black with sudden rage.
"The scoundrel!"
"And he has imagined that because Mr. Morgan came to help yourelection--oh, I cannot." She turned hastily and went away in confusion.
And still the colonel sat and thought with clouded face.
"I must ask Evan," he said.
"Colonel, Mis' Calline says come deir, please." A servant stood by him.He arose and went into his wife's room. She was standing by the openwindow, its light flooding the apartment, her bandages removed.
"Why, Caroline, you are imprudent, don't you know? What is it, my dear?She was silent and rigid, a living statue bathed in the glory of theautumn sun. She waited until she felt his hand in hers.
"Norton," she said, simply, but with infinite pathos, "I am afraidthat I have seen your loved face for the last time. I am blind!" Hetook her in his arms--the form that even age could not rob of itsgirlishness--and pressed her face to his breast. It had come at last.His tears fell for the first time since boyhood.