CHAPTER XXXV.
THE GRAVE IN THE PAST.
When Col. Montjoy rode over to Gen. Evan's, a few mornings after theoperation upon his wife's eyes, it was with but ill-defined notions ofwhat he would say or what would be the result of the interview.Circumstances had placed him in a strange and unpleasant position.
Col. Montjoy felt that the Paris trip could not be well avoided. Herealized that the chances of accomplishing any real good for his wifewere very small, but Dr. Campbell had distinctly favored it, and thehesitancy had evidently only been on account of the cost.
But could he accept the generous offer made by Morgan? That was theembarrassing question. He was not mentally blind; he felt assured thatthe real question for him to decide then was what he should answer whena demand for the hand of his daughter was made. For in accepting theloan and escort of Edward Morgan, he accepted him. Could he do this?
So far as the rumors about the young man were concerned, he neverentertained them seriously. He regarded them only as a desperatepolitical move, and so did the public generally. But a shadow ought notto hang over the life of his daughter.
The old general was at home and partially read his visitor's predicamentin his face as he approached the veranda.
"Come in, Norton," he said without moving from his great rocker; "whatis troubling you?" And he laughed maliciously. "But by the way," headded, "how is the madam to-day? Mary told me yesterday she was gettingalong finely."
"Well, we can't tell, Evan," said his visitor, drawing his chair next tothe rail; "we can't tell. In fact, nothing will be known until thebandages are removed. I came off without my tobacco--" He was holdinghis pipe. The general passed him his box.
"Oh, well, she will come through all right; Campbell is never mistaken."
"That is true, and that is what troubles me. Campbell predicts a returnof the trouble and thinks in the near future her only chance for visionwill lie in the eye which has been blind for several years. He iswilling to admit that Moreau in Paris is better authority and would beglad for Caroline to see him and have his opinion."
"Ah, indeed!" It was expressive. The colonel knew that Evan comprehendedthe situation, if not the whole of it. If there had been any doubt, itwould have been dispelled by the next words:
"A great expense, Norton, in these days, but it must be attended to."Col. Montjoy ran his hand through his hair and passed it over his brownervously.
"The trouble is, Evan, the matter has been attended to, and too easily.Edward Morgan was present during the operation and has offered to lendme all the money necessary for the trip with or without security andwith or without interest." The general shook with silent laughter andsucceeded in getting enough smoke down his throat to induce a disguisingcough.
"That is a trouble, Norton, that hasn't afflicted us old fellows much oflate--extra ease in money matters. Edward is rich and will not be in anyway embarrassed by a matter like this. I think you will do well to makeit a business transaction and accept."
"You do not understand. I have noticed marked attentions to Mary on thepart of the young man, and Mary," he said, sadly, "is, I am afraid,interested in him."
"That is different. Before you decide on accepting this offer, you feelthat you must decide on the young man himself, I see. What do youthink?"
"I haven't been able to think intelligently, I am afraid, upon thatpoint. What do you think, Evan? Mary is about as much your property asmine."
"I think," said the general, throwing off his disguise, "that in EdwardMorgan she will get the only man I ever saw to whom I would be willingto give her up. He is as straight and as brave as any man that everfollowed me into battle." Montjoy was silent awhile.
"You know," he said, presently, "I value your opinion more than anyman's and I do not wish to express or to intimate a doubt of Mr. Morgan,who, I see, has impressed you. I believe the letter of Royson's wasinfamous and untrue in every respect, but it has been published--and sheis my daughter. Why in the name of common sense hasn't he come to me andgiven me something to go upon?"
"It has occurred to me," said the general, dryly, "that he will do sowhen he comes for Mary. In the meantime, a man isn't called upon totravel with a family tree under his arm and show it to every one whoquestions him. Morgan is a gentleman, _sans peur et sans reproche_. Ifhe is not, I do not know the breed.
"So far as the charge of Royson is concerned," continued the general,"let me calm your mind on that point. I have never entered upon thismatter with you because the mistakes of a man's kindred are things hehas no right to gossip about, even among friends. The woman, RitaMorgan, has always been free; she was given her freedom in infancy byJohn Morgan's father. Her mother's history is an unfortunate one. It isenough to say that she was sent out from Virginia with John Morgan'smother, who was, as you know, a blood relative of mine; and I know thatthis woman was sent away with an object. She looked confoundedly likesome of the family. Well, John Morgan's father was wild; you can guessthe result.
"Rita lived in her own house, and when her husband died John took her tohis home. He told me once in so many words that his father leftinstructions outside his will to that effect, and that Rita's claimsupon the old man, as far as blood was concerned, were about the same ashis. You see from this that the Royson story is an absurdity. I knew itwhen I went in and vouched for our young friend, and I would have provedit to Thomas the night he called, but Rita dropped dead that day."
Montjoy drew a long breath.
"You astonish me," he said, "and relieve me greatly. I had never heardthis. I did not really doubt, but you have cleared up all possibility oferror."
"Nor has any other man heard the story. My conversation with John Morgangrew out of his offer to buy of me Alec, a very handsome mulatto man Iowned, to whom Rita had taken a fancy. He wanted to buy him and freehim, but I had never bought or sold a slave, and could not bring myselfto accept money for Alec. I freed him myself. John was not willing forher to marry a slave. They were married and he died in less than a year.That is Rita's history. When Alec died Rita went to John Morgan and kepthouse for him.
"When it was that Gerald came in I do not know," pursued the generalmusingly. "The boy was nearly grown before I heard of him. He and Edwardare children of distant relatives, I am told. John never saw the latterat all, probably, but educated him and, finding Gerald incapacitated,very wisely left his property to the other, with Gerald in his charge.
"No, I have taken the greatest fancy to these two young fellows,although I only have known one a few weeks and the other by sight andreputation." He paused a moment, as though his careless tone haddesecrated a sacred scene; the face of the sleeper rose to his mind."But they are game and thoroughbreds. Accept the proposition and shutyour eyes to the future. It will all work out rightly." Montjoy shookhis head sadly.
"I will accept it," he said, "but only because it means a chance forCaroline which otherwise she would not have. Of course you know Mary isgoing with her, and Morgan is to be their escort?"
The general uttered a prolonged whistle and then laughed. "Well,confound the little darling, to think she should come over here and tellme all the arrangements and leave herself out; Montjoy, that is the onlyone of your family born without grit; tell her so. She is afraid of oneold man's tongue."
"Here she comes, with Morgan," said Montjoy, smiling. "Tell heryourself."
Edward's buggy was approaching rapidly and the flushed and happy face ofthe girl could be seen within.
"Plotting against me," she called out, as she descended, "and I dare youto own it." The general said:
"On the contrary, I was about telling your father what a brave littlewoman you are. Come in, Mr. Morgan," he added, seeing from her blushesthat she understood him.
"Mr. Morgan was coming over to see the general," said Mary, "and I camewith him to ride back with papa." And, despite the protests of all theothers, he presently got Mary into the buggy and carried her off. "Youwill stop, as you come by, Mr. Morgan," he called out. "I will
be gladto see you on a matter of business."
The buggy was yet in sight when Edward turned to his old friend andsaid:
"Gen. Evan, I have come to make a statement to you, based upon longreflection and a sense of justice. I am about to leave the state forFrance, and may never return. There are matters connected with my familywhich I feel you should know, and I prefer to speak rather than writethem." He paused to collect his thoughts, the general looking straightahead and recalling the conversation just had with Col. Montjoy. "If Iseem to trespass on forbidden grounds or stir unpleasant memories, Itrust you will hear me through before condemning me. Many years ago youlost a daughter----"
"Go on," said the general as Edward paused and looked doubtfully towardhim.
"She was to have married my uncle, I am informed, but she did not. Onthe contrary, she married a foreigner--her music teacher. Is this nottrue?"
"Go on."
"She went abroad, but unknown to you she came back and her child wasborn."
"Ah." The sound that came from the old man's lips was almost a gasp. Forthe first time since the recital was begun he turned his eyes upon hiscompanion.
"At this birth, which took place probably at Ilexhurst, possibly in thehouse of Rita Morgan, whose death you know of, occurred the birth ofRita's child also. Your daughter disappeared. Rita was delirious, andwhen she recovered could not be convinced that this child was not herown; and she thought him her son until the day of her death."
"Where is this child? Why was I not informed?" The old general's voicewas hoarse and his words scarcely audible. Edward, looking him full inthe face, replied:
"At Ilexhurst! His name, as we know it, is Gerald Morgan."
Evan, who had half arisen, sank back in his chair.
"And this is your belief, Mr. Morgan?"
"That is the fact, as the weight of evidence declares. The woman inhealth did not claim Gerald for her son. In the moment of her death shecried out: 'They lied!' This is what you heard in the yard and Irepeated it at that time. I was, as you know, laboring under greatexcitement. There is a picture of your daughter at Ilexhurst and theresemblance it strong. You yourself were struck with the familyresemblance.
"I felt it my duty to speak, even at the risk of appearing to trespassupon your best feelings. You were my friend when I needed friends, andhad I concealed this I would have been ungrateful." Edward rose, but thegeneral, without looking up, laid his hand upon his arm.
"Sit down, Mr. Morgan. I thank you. You could not have done less. Butgive me time to realize what this means. If you are correct, I have agrandson at Ilexhurst"--Edward bowed slightly--"whom my daughterabandoned to the care of a servant." Again Morgan bowed, but by thefaintest motion of his head.
"I did not say abandoned," he corrected.
"It cannot be true," said the old man; "it cannot be true. She was agood girl and even infatuation would not have changed her character. Shewould have come back to me."
"If she could," said Edward. He told him the story of the unfinishedmanuscript and the picture drawn by Gerald. He was determined to tellhim all, except as related to himself. That was his own and Virdow'ssecret. "If that story is true, she may not have been able to get toyou; and then the war came on; you must know all before you can judge."The old soldier was silent.
He got up with apparent difficulty and said formally: "Mr. Morgan, Iwill be glad to have you join me in a glass of wine. I am not asvigorous as I may appear, and this is my time o' day. Come in." Edwardnoticed that, as he followed, the general's form had lost something ofits martial air.
No words were exchanged over the little southern ceremony. The generalmerely lifted his glass slightly and bowed.
The room was cool and dark. He motioned Edward to a rocker and sank intohis leather-covered easy-chair. There was a minute's silence broken bythe elder man.
"What is your belief, Mr. Morgan, as to Gerald?"
"The facts as stated are all----"
"Nevertheless, as man to man--your belief."
"Then, in my opinion, the evidence points to Gerald as the child of thiswoman Rita. I am sure also that it is his own belief. The onlydisturbing evidence is the likeness, but Virdow says that the childrenof servants very frequently bear likeness to a mistress. It is adelicate question, but all of our ancestors were not immaculate. Isthere anything in the ancestry of Rita Morgan--is there any reason whyher child should bear a likeness to--to----"
The general lifted his hand in warning. But he said: "What became of theother child?" The question did not disturb or surprise the young man. Heexpected that it would be asked. It was natural. Yet, prepared as hewas, his voice was unsteady when he replied:
"That I do not know."
"You do not know!" The general's tone of voice was peculiar. Did hedoubt?
"I had two objects in view when I brought up this subject," said Edward,when the silence grew embarrassing; "one was to acquaint you with thepossibilities out at Ilexhurst, and to ask your good offices for Geraldin the event my absence is prolonged or any necessity for assistanceshould arise. The other is to find the second child if it is living anddetermine Gerald's status; and, with this as my main object, I ventureto ask you if, since her disappearance, you have ever heard of MarionEvan?"
"God help me," said Evan, brokenly; "yes. But it was too soon; too soon;I could not forgive her."
"And since then?" The old man moved his hand slowly and let it fall.
"Silence--oblivion."
"Can you give me the name of her husband?" Without reply the veteranwent to the secretary and took from a pigeonhole a well-worn letter.
"No eye but mine has ever read these lines," he said, simply. "I do notfear to trust them to you! Read! I cannot now!"
Edward's hand trembled as he received the papers. If Rita Morgan spokethe truth he was about to look upon lines traced by his mother's hand.It was like a message from the dead.