sang Billy Sutton, as he and Nan watched the gyrations of their host’s secretary. “Did you ever see such a proof of foreign blood in any man who pretends to be American born?”
“Why, Billy, he is American born. The count says he was born and raised in Cincinnati.”
“Yes, and the count says he himself was born and raised in Hungary, but I bet you anything they may have been born where they say they were but they were raised in Berlin. Look at that fellow and tell me if he doesn’t dance like Old Heidelberg.”
“The count doesn’t, anyhow. I never saw such divine dancing as the count’s.”
As though he had heard her, the handsome smiling de Lestis came to claim her for the rest of the dance.
“Aren’t these foreigners the limit?” said the boy, seeking the disconsolate Lewis. “I know I oughtn’t to say anything about a fellow when I am in his house, but somehow that count gets my goat.”
“Mine, too! Who is this Herz?”
“Oh, he is a kind of lady’s maid or secretary or something for his nibs. Says he is an American, but I have my doubts. I don’t see how Miss Douglas Carter can stand for him, but she lets him walk home from school with her any time, so I hear,” announced Billy, absolutely unconscious of the fact he was retailing very unwelcome news to his companion.
“Humph!” was all Lewis could say, but that monosyllable had a world of meaning in it. And so although the music was gay and the lights were bright and the laughter was merry in that ballroom, there were several sore hearts, and the little green-eyed monster was waltzing or fox trotting or one stepping every dance.
“I wonder why Miss Ella and Louise don’t get here,” Helen said to Dr. Wright, who had at last persuaded her to sit out one dance with him. “They have had plenty of time even with their slow old horse.”
They had found a sofa in the back hall behind a clump of palms. There were many plants artistically grouped by the florist from town, who had tastefully decorated the whole mansion.
“The telephone has been ringing a great deal since we came. Could they be trying to get the count? I always feel like jumping when the ’phone rings, feeling that it must be for me.”
“Oh, no! The ring for Weston is two long and three short rings. These country ’phones are hard to learn, but I often answer the one at Grantly for my old friends.”
“Listen, there goes the bell again! Goodness! I believe one of these ’phones that rings everybody’s number would send me crazy.”
“They say you get used to them. That is four shorts and a long. That’s for Dr. Allison, who lives miles and miles from here. Don’t you remember Page Allison, that lovely girl who came to Greendale with the Tucker twins? It is her father.”
“Of course I do, and I know Dr. Allison, too! A delightful gentleman!”
“I believe I’ll call up Miss Ella and see what is the matter,—why they don’t come on.”
George Wright sighed. There always seemed to be something to keep Helen from talking to him tête-à-tête. Still, he felt glad to think that Helen was so fond of these old ladies and so thoughtful of them.
The telephone was under the stairway, quite near their retired nook. Helen rang the number for Grantly and there was a quick response.
“Hello!” came in Miss Louise’s contralto notes.
“Miss Louise, this is Helen Carter! Why haven’t you started yet? Don’t you know the count can’t give a ball without you and Miss Ella?”
“Oh, my dear, my sister is ill, very ill,—fainted just as we were getting ready to leave. You see she would make that cake, that angel’s food, although I told her I was going to make a fruit cake, but you know Ella—— Oh, but how can I rattle along this way? I have been trying so hard to get Dr. Allison and he doesn’t answer.”
“Wait a minute, Miss Louise,” and Helen put her hand over the receiver and turned to Dr. Wright.
“Dr. Wright, will you take me to Grantly? Miss Ella has had a fainting fit—a stroke, I am afraid it is.”
“Take you! My dear, I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”
“Miss Louise, Dr. Wright is going to bring me to Grantly in his automobile immediately. Don’t worry; we will be there soon.”
She rang off quickly and flew upstairs for her wraps. Chloe was not in the dressing-room, but she quickly unearthed her cape and hood from the bed where the many shawls and cloaks had been piled. On the way out she whispered to Nan where she was going, but told her not to tell the others, as she did not want to break up the ball or to cast a shadow on the happiness of the dancers.
Not a sound or glimmer of light in Paradise as they speeded silently through the settlement! The club, too, was deserted.
“I think you are splendid to be willing to give up this ball to go to the aid of these old ladies,” said Dr. Wright, drawing the rug more closely around Helen, as the air was quite nipping.
“Why, the idea of my not doing it! You must think I’m nothing but a heartless butterfly.”
“I think you are anything but one. You love dancing, though, so much. I should have come alone. Somehow I couldn’t make up my mind to forego the ride alone with you. Isn’t it a beautiful night?”
The stars were shining brightly but the lazy moon had not yet gotten up.
“If we find the poor old lady not too ill, I’ll take you back to the dance after we have made her comfortable. There will be a moon to light our way later on.”
“That will be fine! Maybe they won’t even miss us. But somehow I have a feeling that Miss Ella is very ill.”
“Five minutes more will decide the question. Hasn’t my new car eaten up distance, though? Just think, in old days what a time sick persons had to wait for a physician without telephones and without cars!”
“Dr. Allison still drives a fast horse to a light buggy. Page says he will none of horseless carriages. I believe it is only recently that he has submitted to a telephone.”
“It is a good thing his medical theories have not kept pace with his means of locomotion, or he would be a back number sure.”
Valhalla was very quiet, peacefully sleeping under the stars. What a haven of refuge it had been to the Carters! Helen looked lovingly at the picturesque roof lines as the car glided rapidly past.
“Do you know, I think that must be the most restful place in all the world? I have grown so attached to the little tumbledown house, leaks and cracks, smoking stove and all.”
“Hasn’t it been awfully hard on you?”
“Not any harder on me than on the others!”
“I can’t tell you what I think of all of you Carter girls for the way you have grappled with the winter in the country. I think you have had the hot end of it, too.”
There flashed through Helen’s mind a picture of the first time she saw the young doctor, in the library of their pretty home in Richmond. There had been no approval in his cold glance then, nothing but censure and severity. She had deserved it all. Did she deserve the praise he gave her now?
“The hot end is better than the cold end during the winter months,” she laughed. “At least I can stay snugly in the kitchen and not have to go out in all weathers like poor Douglas and the other girls.”
Miss Louise met them at the door, tears rolling down her fat cheeks. She still was dressed in her stiff black silk but had tied on a great gingham apron over her best dress.
“How good of you to come to us!” was all she could sob out.
“You should have sent for us immediately,” said Helen, putting her arms around the trembling old woman.
“Ella always wants Dr. Allison, and I hated so to break up the pleasure of the young people.”
“Where is your sister?” asked Dr. Wright, taking off his gloves and great coat, and extracting a small leather case from its pocket.
“I got her to bed after she came to.”
“She is conscious then?”
“Yes, but very low, very low. She has been so docile I am afraid she is going to die,” and the poor lady began to weep anew.
“Let me go in with the doctor,” insisted Helen. “I can do what is necessary and you might scare Miss Ella. She mustn’t be made to think she is so ill.”
The tall form of Miss Ella was stretched on the great four-posted bed, and so still was it that for a moment Helen was afraid to go near.
“She might be dead! She might be dead!” her heart cried out, but she shut her mouth very tight and advanced bravely up to the bedside.
“Miss Ella, Dr. Wright has come to see you. Dr. Allison will be here later on perhaps.”
“I’ll be better in a few moments. I must have fainted,” she said weakly. “I ought not to have tried the angel food cake. It is so tedious. Louise told me not to, but I was very headstrong.”
Helen looked up apprehensively at the doctor, who was feeling the patient’s pulse. It did seem rather ominous for Miss Ella to be so humble and to confess that Louise’s judgment was of any importance.
“What did you eat for dinner?” asked the doctor.
“I—I—don’t remember.”
“Think!”
“I reckon I ate some bread.”
“Nothing else?”
“I can’t remember.”
At a nod from the doctor Helen went out to seek this information from Miss Louise, whom she found huddled up on the hall sofa.
“Eat for dinner! I am sure I don’t know. She wouldn’t eat when I did and I do believe she didn’t eat anything.”
“How about supper?”
“Oh, we neither one of us ate any supper. We felt it would be discourteous to the count after all the trouble and expense he must have gone to, with caterers from Richmond and all.”
Helen flew back to the bedside of Miss Ella.
“She ate no dinner that Miss Louise can remember and neither one of them ate any supper,” she cried.
“Well, of course she fainted then. Can you take the matter in hand and get some toast and tea for both of them? Miss Louise will be toppling over next.”
Helen was intimate enough with the old sisters to know just where they kept everything and in short order she had a tray ready for poor half-starved Miss Ella.
“It was not a stroke at all,” Dr. Wright assured the anxious sister. “Nothing but hunger.”
“I told her to eat,” and Miss Louise looked venomously at the invalid.
“I came to get my dinner and you had taken all the breast of the chicken. I wasn’t going to eat your leavings,” declared Miss Ella, color coming back into her wan cheeks and the fire of battle to her faded eyes. Helen laughed happily. The sisters were quarreling again and everything was assuming a more normal aspect.
“Now both of you ladies must get to bed,” insisted the doctor, after Miss Louise had been persuaded to eat some of Helen’s good toast.
“I think you have had ball enough for tonight.” He looked at his watch. “I will take you back to Weston,” he whispered to Helen.
Helen would not go until both of her old friends were tucked peacefully in their great bed and then, kissing them good-night, she stole quietly from the room. She was greatly relieved that things had turned out so well and delighted that she was to be taken back to the ball.
“It’s pretty nice to do your duty and still have a good time,” she said to herself.
Dr. Wright was waiting in the hall for her. He silently bundled her up in her cape and hood and together they stepped on the gallery.
The lazy moon was up now and outshining the faithful stars. The great box bushes and thick hedge cast deep shadows across the lawn. The two stood for a moment in silence, drinking in the beauty of the scene.
“We can’t lock the front door,” said Dr. Wright finally. “I see it has an old-fashioned great brass key and the only way to lock it is to fasten the old ladies in the house.”
“Why, nothing will ever hurt those dear old folks,” laughed Helen. “There are as safe as can be. They tell me they often go to bed without locking doors. They usually have a quarrel about whether the front door has been locked or not, and get so excited they both forget to do it.”
“Listen! What is that?”
A low rumble of voices was heard, coming from the rear of Grantly.
“Could it be the dancers coming home?” suggested Helen.
“No, not from that direction!”
The rumble increased to a roar, low but continuous. Evidently a great many persons were talking or muttering and they were getting closer and closer.
“Let’s have a light, so we kin see!” said a voice louder and clearer than the rest, and then there was a guffaw from many throats.
“A lot of darkies!” gasped Helen. “What can they be doing here?”
“You go inside and I’ll see,” commanded the young man.
“I’ll do no such thing! I’ll go with you and see. If I go in the house again I’ll wake Miss Ella and Miss Louise up, and you said yourself that it was most important for them to have a night of unbroken rest.”
“Helen, I insist!”
“But I’m not going to be sent back in the house while you go get shot up or something, so there!”
“Shot up! The idea! It is nothing but some late revelers going home. Perhaps the darkies have been having a ball somewhere, too.”
“Perhaps, but they have no business coming through Grantly.”
There was a hoarse shout from the rear and suddenly a light shot up into the sky.
“The straw stack! They are burning the straw stack!” cried Helen.
George Wright quietly opened the great front door and picking Helen up in his arms, carried her into the hall. He put her down and hastily closed the door. Helen heard the great brass key turn in the lock.
It was very dark in the hall. She groped her way along the wall. It was all she could do to keep from screaming, but remembering her two old friends, now no doubt peacefully snoozing, she held herself in check. Suddenly she bumped square into the telephone.
“I’ll give a hurry call for the whole neighborhood,” she cried, and no sooner thought than done. It was said afterwards that no such ringing of a ’phone had ever been heard before in the county.
“Grantly on fire and a great crowd of negro brutes in the yard!” was the message that was sent abroad.
The two old ladies slept peacefully on. Helen could hear the deep stertorous snore, Miss Louise’s specialty, and the high steam-whistle pipe that Miss Ella was given to.
“I can’t stand this!” cried the girl. “They may be killing him this minute; and he expects me to stay shut up in this house while he gets shot to death!”
She felt her way back to the kitchen where she could see well enough, thanks to the fire that the desperadoes had kindled. She cautiously unlocked the door and stepped out on the back porch.
The negroes were dancing around the burning stack, led by a tall gangling man whom Helen recognized as Tempy’s slue-footed admirer, James Hanks. Some of them seemed to be rather the worse for drink, and all of them were wild-eyed and excited-looking.
“Come on, gent’men!” cried the leader. “Let’s git our loot while we’s got light a-plenty. The ol’ tabbies is safe at the count’s ball, safe an’ stuffin’.”
There was a shout of laughter at this witticism. Helen was trembling with fright, but not fright for herself. The dear old ladies were uppermost in her mind, and the doctor! Her doctor! Where was he? Would he tackle all of those crazy, half-drunk brutes single-handed and not even armed?
A sudden thought came to her. She slipped back into the kitchen. Remembering the box tacked to the wall, just over the kerosene stove where the matches were kept, she felt along the wall until her hand touched it. Then armed with these matches she crept back through the house to the great parlor where the trophies of the dead and gone great-uncle, the traveler in the Orient, were. She cautiously struck a match, thankful that the parlor was on the other side of the house from the fire, and seized at random what old arms she could lay her hands on: a great sword, that Richard the Lion-Hearted might have wielded, an Arabian scimiter and a light, curiously wrought shield. The sword was heavy but she managed to stagger along the hall with her load.
“Now remember, friends an’ citizens!” James Hanks was saying as he harangued the crowd. “This here prop’ty by rights b’longs to us. Ain’t we an’ our fo’bars done worked this here lan’ from time in memoriam? Ain’t we tilled the sile an’ hoed the craps fur these ol’ tabbies an’ what is we got to show fur it? Nothin’! Nothin’, I say! All we is a-doin’ on this sacred night is takin’ what is ourn. ’Tain’t meet nor right fur two ol’ women to hab control of all these fair lands, livin’ in luxry, wallowin’ in honey an’ rollin’ in butter, while we colored ladies an’ gent’men is fo’ced to habit pig stys an’ thankful to git sorghum an’ drippin’s. Don’t none of you go into this here undertakin’ ’thout you is satisfied you is actin’ up to principles. All what considers it they bounden duty to git back what is by rights theirn, jes’ step forward.”
Helen counted fifteen men as they reeled forward.
Where was Dr. Wright? Was he hearing the speech that the perfidious James was making? And the old ladies—were they still sleeping? The back porch was littered up with various barrels and boxes, and behind these Helen crouched. Of course she realized that the darkies thought that Grantly was empty and that they intended to break in and take what treasures they could find. Would they be scared off when they found someone was in the house, or would they feel that they had gone too far to retreat in their infamous undertaking? Whatever was to be the outcome, she must find the doctor and help him, die by his side if necessary.
What an ending to the ball, the ball where she had danced so gaily and happily! Had they missed them yet? She had not been able to tell what ’phones had answered her hurry call. She had only known that several persons got on the line and that her message had reached some ears, but whose she could not say.
The mob had started towards the front.
“Yes, we’ll go in the front way, now an’ ever after,” growled the leader. “Only las’ week that ol’ skinny Ella done driv me to the back do’. I come up the front way jes’ to tes’ her an’ she sent me roun’ to the back jes’ lak some dog. Whin we gits through, I reckon she’ll be glad enough if she’s got a back do’ to go in.”
Helen waited to hear no more but streaked around the opposite side of the house, bearing her ancient weapons. Peeping through the railing of the great gallery in front she espied George Wright calmly standing in the doorway which was flooded with moonlight.
Nan and Billy Sutton were the only persons at Weston who knew that Helen and Dr. Wright had left the house, and they, according to instructions, had kept mum.
“I hate for Helen to miss one teensy bit of the ball,” Nan said. “She does so adore dancing.”
“I should think she would. Anybody who can dance like that ought to like it. I think she is a ripper to go to those old grouches.”
“Now, Billy, that is no way to talk! Those old ladies are really lovely. You would have gone to them in a minute.”
“Well, maybe! But I wouldn’t have enjoyed leaving this to go.”
“Perhaps they will be able to come back. Miss Louise is an awful alarmist.”
Supper was served, the waiters from Richmond taking affairs into their own hands, so that the untrained country servants at Weston were pushed into the background.
“Miss Helen done said I’s got quite a el’gant air in serving,” grumbled Chloe, when she was not allowed to bear in the trays of dainties to the hungry guests. “I reckon these here town niggers thinks they is the king bees. I don’t care what they says, I’s gonter git a sicond hep ter my Miss Helen.”
The girl filled a tray with salad, croquettes, sandwiches and what not and made her way into the parlors. She peered around for her young mistress. The rooms were well filled with the country guests and many couples were having their supper in the nooks made by the skilful decorators of clumps of palms and evergreens. Chloe peeped behind them all and not finding her Miss Helen she went to Douglas.
“Whar Miss Helen?”
“Why, I don’t know, Chloe! What do you want?”
“I want my Miss Helen ter git her fill er victuals she ain’t had ter mess in.”
“I haven’t seen her,” laughed Douglas. “Ask Miss Nan.”
“Miss Nan, whar Miss Helen?”
“Why, Chloe, she has gone away but may be back later.”
“Whar she gone?”
“She told me not to tell, because she doesn’t want to disturb the others, but she has gone with Dr. Wright to see Miss Ella Grant, who is ill.”
“Miss Ellanlouise is here to the ball, ain’t they?”
“No, they didn’t come.”
“Miss Helen ain’t gone ter Grantly, is she?”
“Of course!”
Then poor Chloe dropped her tray, laden with goodies for her beloved mistress, and a mixture of salad and croquettes and sandwiches rolled over the floor.
“My Gawd! My Gawd!” shrieked the girl. “Whar the count? Whar Mr. Carter? Whar that secondary?”
“What is it?” demanded the count sternly, as he stepped over the débris.
“My Miss Helen done gone ter Grantly!”
“Is that so? Why did she leave?”
His calm tones quieted the girl a little.
“She done gone with Dr. Wright——”
“Miss Ella Grant is ill and Helen went with Dr. Wright to look after her,” put in Nan. “I don’t know why Chloe is so excited.”
By this time the guests were crowding around the corner where Nan and Billy had ensconced themselves for what they thought was to be a quiet little supper.
“’Cited! I tell you, you’d better git a move on you, you count and you secondary. The niggers is planning no good fur Grantly this night.”
“What negroes?” asked the count.
“’Tain’t no diffunce what niggers! You git out that little red devil of a mobile an’ you licksplit ter Grantly as fas’ as you kin, an’ you take mo’n one gun.”
If everybody had not been wrought up to a high pitch of excitement, they would have been amused to see this ignorant country black girl handing out orders to the Count de Lestis as though she were a duchess and he a stable boy.
The count motioned to Herz and they turned and left the room.
“I get in on this!” cried Lewis Somerville.
“And I! And I!” from every male throat in the room.
Many of the farmers had pistols with them, deeming it more prudent to go armed on midnight drives through the lonely districts. Mrs. Carter fainted when it was explained to her where her daughter had gone and what the danger was. For once in her life, however, her husband had no thought for her. He left her to the ministrations of the farmer’s wife in the stiff green silk, and hastened out to climb on the running-board of the count’s little car, which was already under way.
In what seemed like a moment since the poor Chloe had dropped her tray, there was not a single white male left at Weston, except Bobby Carter and he was only left because Lucy held him, scratching and fighting to go to the rescue of his precious sister. Even the musicians from Richmond had joined the posse. The negro waiters stepped gingerly around with many superior airs, congratulating themselves that they were as they were and not as the ignorant country blacks.
Chloe sat on the floor and rocked and moaned, refusing to be comforted.
“I done what she tol’ me was right!” was her cryptic remark which none understood.
“Why do we wait here?” asked Douglas, who was pale as death.
Mrs. Carter had been revived and was lying on a sofa.
“Why, indeed! Let’s get in the hay wagon and go,” said Nan.
“Who can drive it?”
“I!” cried the redoubtable Mrs. Sutton.
Almost all of the carriages and buggies had been requisitioned by the masculine element but the hay wagon remained and a few other vehicles. The horses were quickly unblanketed by the women with the help of the waiters. Mrs. Carter and Douglas were the last to leave the house, as the poor nervous lady was kept quiet until they were ready to start.
Just as they were going out the door Douglas heard a violent ringing of the telephone. Knowing the peculiarities of a country connection and its way of ringing at every house, and also knowing that the long, violent, protracted ringing meant emergency of some sort, Douglas ran to answer it. She distinctly heard Helen’s voice crying the alarm:
“Grantly on fire and a great crowd of negro brutes in the yard!”
“What is it, my dear?” feebly asked Mrs. Carter.
“Nothing at all!” said Douglas calmly. She felt that such a message would only upset her poor mother more, and it was best to keep it locked within her own panting breast.
If any of the persons in that hay wagon should live to be a thousand years old they could never forget that terrible ride over the rough, muddy roads on that twenty-second of February, 1917.
“Look, the moon is up!” whispered Lucy to Mag, both of them remembering the gay ride to the ball only a few hours before and how they had remarked that it would be so jolly going back because the moon would be up.
“Something’s on fire!” someone cried, and then the heavens were lit by the burning straw stack. A straw stack can make more light in the sky than a Woolworth building if both should be set afire; but the straw burns out so quickly that it is little more than a flash in the pan.
Mrs. Sutton proved a famous Jehu. She managed her team quite as well as Billy. Nan sat up on the high seat by her, looking with admiration at the strong, capable hands.
“Do you think they will be in time?” Nan whispered to her valiant companion.
“Sure they will, my dear! They are there by this time and I believe that fire is nothing but a straw stack. Look, even now how it is dying down! Poor Miss Ella and Miss Louise! They seem to have the faculty of not getting along with the darkies. They are as kind as can be to them when they are sick or in want, but they always have an overbearing manner with them when they are well. I wonder what that girl meant by saying she had done just as Helen had told her.”
“I don’t know. Helen has been so patient with Chloe and has really made a pretty good cook of her. She simply adores Helen. She comes to her with all kinds of questions to answer and problems of life to solve. Do you think these colored men would want to kill Helen just because they are angry with the Misses Grant?”
“No, my dear, I don’t think these colored men would want to kill anybody. God grant they are not drunk! That is the only danger I am fearing. I am not afraid of any sober negro alive, but a drunken one is to be avoided like a rattlesnake.”
“Well, Mrs. Sutton, I just feel somehow that God and Dr. Wright are going to take care of Helen,—and Miss Ella and Miss Louise, too.”
“I am sure of it, my dear. I am so sure of it that I am thanking God for having sent Dr. Wright and Helen to Grantly,—otherwise the poor, foolish old ladies might have been found there by the darkies when they expected the house to be empty, with everyone gone to the ball, and then there is no telling what would have happened.” Mrs. Sutton shuddered as though she were cold.
“I keep on thinking of Dr. Wright’s face,—his keen blue eyes and his jaw,—somehow, I believe that jaw will pull them out safely.”
And what a time we have had to keep Helen peeping through the railings at Dr. Wright as he stood in the brilliant moonlight on the gallery at Grantly, while the crazed mob of darkies advanced jauntily to the front of the old mansion! It was their intention to enter and claim the spoils thereof: treasures that they had begun to think belonged to them by reason of their long service and the service of their fathers and fathers’ fathers.
Confident that the mansion was empty, they made no endeavor to be quiet. All the white folks for miles and miles around were feasting at the count’s ball; as for the burning rick,—they had not thought that the fire would do more than warm things up for their deed.
“Now fur the loot!” cried James Hanks. “An’ we mus’ hurry up, ’cause whin the ol’ tabbies gits home from the ball they mus’n’t be hide or har of the house lef’ standin’.”
“Bus’ open the bar’l er coal ile!” suggested one black brute, “so’s we can pour her on.”
“They keep the coal ile in the woodshed,” a little bandy-legged man remarked.
“Now see hyar! Befo’ we enter this here domicyle, they’s to be a reg’lar understandin’ ’bout the findin’s,” continued James Hanks. “The money is to be ’vided ekal an’ the silvo and chino an’ other little value bowles is to be portioned out ’cordin’ to they valubility.”
“Sho’! Sho’! We’s all ’greed to that!” came in a chorus.
“I goes fust, as the man ’pinted by Gawd as yo’ leader.”
As James Hanks started up the broad steps he was dumfounded when Dr. Wright came forward. He retreated down the steps and the crowd of darkies behind him surged backward.
“What is it you want?” asked the young physician quite simply, in a voice as cool and natural as though he were a soda clerk dealing out soft drinks.
“We—er—we—we didn’t know any of the white folks was in.”
“Exactly!” and Dr. Wright came closer to the nonplussed darky. “Perhaps God has appointed me to defend this home.”
“We is hyar fur our rights,” came from the extreme edge of the crowd in a growling voice.
“Your rights!”
“Yessah!” and James Hanks spoke up more bravely, emboldened by the support he felt the crowd was able to give him.
“Aw go on, Jeemes! He ain’t even armed,” cried the black brute who had been so free in his suggestions about breaking open the barrel of kerosene. “Gawd wouldn’t send nobody ’thout even a razor.”
Helen saw the crowd pushing forward. She felt a choking in her throat and loosened the cord that fastened her evening wrap. The heavy cape and hood fell to the ground. She was over the railing in a twinkling of an eye, dragging her ancient weapons of offense and defense with her. The hood had loosened her hairpins and now her hair fell around her shoulders in a heavy shower. She ran along the gallery, dragging the sword with one hand and with the other clutching the shield and scimiter. Without a word she thrust the great sword in the outstretched hand of the young man.
He looked at her in astonishment and terror. Having locked her in the hall he had thought of course she would remain there. At least, he had so devoutly hoped so that he had made himself believe that was where he would find her when this wretched affair was over.
His face blanched and his knees trembled visibly. The fear that he had not felt for himself was intense for this girl, but he grasped the sword and waved it over the crowd.
At sight of Helen the crowd set up a groan. They sank on their knees or fell prone to the earth. God had sent an angel of vengeance with a flaming sword for their undoing. Indeed less superstitious persons than those poor darkies might have been startled by the sudden appearance of Helen Carter. Her dress, that Nan had described as like the moon, might well have been the garb of an angel. Her long light brown hair, usually so carefully coiffed but now falling below her waist, added to the make-up, as did also the ancient shield and the crescent scimiter.
With the shield held forward, as though to guard the doctor, and the scimiter raised aloft, she stood gazing on the trembling crowd.
“Gawd save this nigger! Gawd save this nigger!” cried the abject one with the bandy legs.
“A angel of destruction, carryin’ a flamin’ sword! Lemme git out’n this!” wailed another.
“’Twas Jeemes Hanks set fire to the straw stack! Not me! Not me!” from one who knelt and rocked himself back and forth.
“I ain’t teched a thing what don’t b’long to me!”
“I jes’ come along to see the fun! I ain’t nebber had no idee er harmin’ Miss Ellanlouise!”
“Me neither! Me neither!”
“Jeemes Hanks, He’s the one, good Gawd! He’s the one!”
James Hanks, goaded to desperation by the backslidings of his followers, turned on them in fury:
“You low down sneaks! Can’t you see that this ain’t no angel of the Lawd? This is one of them gals come to live in the ol’ tumble-down overseer’s house, jes’ a play actin’ to scare you. If’n we can’t down them we ain’t worth of the name of Loyal Af’cans. Come on, boys, an’ let’s finish ’em an’ thin we can git our loot. I ain’t afraid of them. A flamin’ sword ain’t in it with a gun.” He reached for his hip pocket.
Dr. Wright grabbed the angel of the Lord most unceremoniously and held her behind him. The kneeling and groveling mob was divided in its feelings as to whether Helen was or was not a celestial visitor, but they were one and all anxious to be through with the night’s work without bloodshed. This was an outcome they had not bargained for. To go to Grantly and get all the money that they ignorantly supposed the old ladies to possess, to steal the silver and whatever else they fancied and then to set fire to the ancient pile, thereby destroying all trace of their burglary, so that when the white folks came home from the count’s fine ball there would be naught to tell the tale, was a very different matter from this thing of having to get rid of two persons, perhaps kill them and then be found out.
“Jeemes, you is foolish in de haid,” spoke up Bandy-Legs.
“Indeed you are!” came in clear ringing tones from Helen as she waved her scimiter, the moonlight flashing on it. “This minute the whole county knows that Grantly is on fire and that all of you are here.”
“Oh, rats! Whatcher tryin’ ter give us?” from the scornful, incredulous leader.
“I am telling you what is so. As soon as I heard you in the yard and saw the light from the straw stack, I gave a hurry call and got the neighbors on the ’phone.”
“An’ what was you an’ the young man a-doin’ of in Grantly?” sneered James, coming up quite close to Helen. “Looks like whin Miss Ellanlouise is to the ball, it’s a strange place——” but James was not allowed to finish what he had to say. Dr. Wright’s powerful fist shot out and the darky received a scientifically dealt blow square on his jaw bone that sent him backwards down the steps, where he lay in a huddled heap and like the Heathen Chinee:
“Subsequent proceedings interested him no more”—at least, not for a while.
Their leader down and out, the crowd began to melt away, but in a tone that commanded instant obedience George Wright bade them to halt.
“Listen, you fools! If one of you budges from this spot until I give him permission I will lick him to within an inch of his life. Miss Ella Grant had a fainting spell and could not go to the ball, and Miss Carter and I came over here from Weston when her sister telephoned us the trouble she was in. We were just leaving the house when you arrived.”
“Is Miss Ellanlouise in dar now?” asked a trembling old man.
“Yes!”
“Praise be ter Gawd fer stayin’ our han’! Praise be ter Gawd!”
“Yes, you had better give praise. I am not going to tell you what I think of you for attempting this terrible thing. You know yourselves how wicked and foolish you are.”
Just then a light shot across the yard and in a moment the red car belonging to the count came whizzing into view.
“Now you may go, all but you, and you, and you!” indicating the ones who had been so glib about the kerosene and their rights, and the one who had known so well that God would not have sent an angel without even a razor.
The men pointed out tremblingly obeyed, coming up to the steps as though drawn by a magnet. The rest of the mob simply disappeared, dodging behind the box bushes and losing themselves in the convenient labyrinth.
That little red car had brought over six men: the count and his secretary, Mr. Carter, Mr. Sutton, Lewis Somerville and Bill Tinsley. Hardly a word had been spoken on that ride. The count had pushed the powerful engine to its utmost ability and it had taken the car through heavy mud, up hills and down dales, through mire and ruts with a speed truly remarkable.
“Some car!” remarked Lewis.
“Some!” grunted Bill.
Mr. Carter’s mouth was close set and his eyes looked like steel points. All of his girls were dear to him but Helen had always seemed closer for some reason; perhaps her very wilfulness was the reason. And now as he thought of her in danger, it seemed as though he could single-handed tackle any number of foes. He prayed continuously as he stood on the running-board of that speeding car, but his prayer was perhaps not very devout:
“Oh, God, let me get at them! Let me get at them!”
The relief of finding his dear girl alive and unharmed was so great that Mr. Carter sobbed. When Helen saw him jump from the car, she flew down the box-bordered walk and threw herself into his arms.
“Daddy! Daddy! We saved Miss Ella and Miss Louise!”
“And who saved you?”
“Dr. Wright saved me and I saved him.”
Mr. Sutton, who was magistrate for the district, made short order in arresting James Hanks and his companions. As the vehicles arrived with the other members of the posse there was some whisper of a lynching, but Mr. Sutton downed the whisper with contempt.
“There hasn’t been a lynching in Virginia for eighteen years and I should hate our county to be the one to break the record. It will have a much more salutary effect to have these poor fools locked up in jail and be brought to trial with all of their deviltry exposed and aired in the papers. After all, the only real harm done is the burning of an old rotting straw stack that was not fit for bedding, as I remember.”
The count and Herz were most solicitous in their endeavors to help in any possible way. It was decided that Grantly must be patrolled for the rest of the night, as it was feared that some of the darkies might return. Dr. Wright smiled at the suggestion. He knew full well that the poor negroes who had been allowed to depart would not be seen or heard of for many a day. He had seen too great and abject a fear in their rolling eyes to have any apprehension of danger from them.
James Hanks showed signs of returning life. The young physician leaned over him and felt his pulse.
“Umm hum! You had better be glad I didn’t break your jaw. You’ll be all right in a few days and in the meantime the quiet of the lock-up will be very good for your nerves.”
“Ah, then that is some work that Herz and I can do,” cried the count. “These men must be taken to jail, and why should not we attend to it? Eh, Adolph!”
“Certainly!” Herz had been looking very grim ever since Chloe had dropped the tray of second helpings for Helen.
“I wish we had handcuffs,” said Mr. Sutton.
“Why, that is hardly necessary. I should think Herz and I with pistols could take four poor devils, unarmed, to jail. Especially since one of those devils has been already put out of business by this skilful surgeon,” laughed the count.
“Yes, and I’ll go along with you,” sighed Mr. Sutton who was accustomed to early retiring. This midnight rioting was not much to his taste, but he was determined as magistrate of the district to see the matter safely through.
“Why, my dear man, there is not a bit of use in your going. You can trust Herz and me to land them safely.”
“Well, all right, but I feel responsible for the good of the community and these black devils must be locked up in the court-house jail before many hours.”
“You had better take my car,” suggested Dr. Wright. “It will hold the six of you more comfortably.”
“Oh, not at all! Mine brought six of us over here from Weston and can take six away. The prisoners can stand on the running-boards, all but the injured one, and he can sit by me. If any of them attempts to escape we can wing him quite easily.”
Dr. Wright felt rather relieved that his offer was turned down. No man would relish his perfectly new car being used to carry four bad darkies to jail over roads that were quite as vile as the prisoners.
Everyone felt grateful to the count for his unselfish offer, everyone but Skeeter Halsey and Frank Maury. They had fondly hoped to have a hand in the undertaking. The night had been a thrilling one for the two boys. They bitterly regretted that they had not got there in time to rush in and save Miss Helen.
“I felt like I could ’a’ killed at least six niggers,” Skeeter said to Lucy and Mag.
“Humph! Only six? I could have put a dozen out of business,” scoffed Frank; and Lucy and Mag were sure they could.
The boys were allowed to divide the patrol duties with Lewis and Bill, and very proud they were as they stalked up and down in front of the mansion and around the barnyard, keeping a sharp lookout for skulking blacks.
Almost everything has an amusing side if one can see it. Witness: the jokes that are cracked by the men in the trenches in the midst of the tremendous world tragedy. The amusing thing about that night’s happenings was that Miss Ella and Miss Louise slept right through it. Worn out by their cake making and wrangling, intensely relieved that it was nothing but hunger and not a stroke that had befallen one of them, they had slept like two children.
The court-house was due south of Grantly and towards it the count turned his powerful little car. After running about two miles, he made a deviation to the west and then to the north.
“How much gasoline have we?” he asked Herz.
“The tank is full.”
“Good! I take it you grasp my intentions.”
“Of course! I’m no fool. It would never do to have these idiots testify in court. Where to?”
“Richmond! There we can turn them loose with money enough to get north.”
“Boss, ain’t yer gonter han’ us over?” asked James Hanks, who was rapidly recovering.
“Naturally not! You can thank your stars that you are too big a fool to be trusted to face a judge,” snarled Herz.
The three negroes who were hanging to the car were jubilant at the news.
“I sho’ is lucky,” said one. “I ain’t nebber had no sinse an’ it looks lak it done he’p me out a heap ter be so foolish lak.”
“It would be much easier to shoot them all and testify that they endeavored to escape,” suggested Herz with a humorous twist to his ugly mouth.
“Oh, boss! Please don’t do no sich a deed,” whined James Hanks. “I ain’t never a-goin’ ter let on that you——”
“I know you are not!” and Herz put a cold revolver against the negro’s temple. “You are not even going to let on anything here in this car. Now you keep your mouth shut, and shut tight or I’ll blow your head off. We’ve got no use for people who fail.”
“Heavens! What a Prussian you are, Herz!” laughed the count.
Richmond was reached in safety. Money was handed out to each one of the grateful negroes with instructions to take the first train north and then to separate.
“They’ll catch you sure if you stick together. But if they do catch you, you keep your black mouths shut about anything connected with the Count de Lestis or me,—do you understand?”
They understood and made off as quickly as they could.
“Ain’t he a tur’ble slave driver, though?” said the bandy-legged one, and the others agreed.
No time for rest for the occupants of the little red car. Back they went over the muddy roads as fast as the wonderful engine could take them. It was just dawn when they reached a certain spot in the road on the way to the court-house where they considered it most likely they could work their machinations.
There was a sharp curve with a steep embankment on the outer edge. The car was carefully steered until two wheels were almost over the precipice. Then the count alighted, first turning off his engine. With shoulders to the wheel, the two men pushed until the machine toppled over into the ditch.
“There, my darling! I hated to do it. I hope you are not much hurt,” said the count whimsically.
“Now roll on after her,” and Herz pushed his employer over the embankment. Then he jumped down himself and wallowed in the mud.
“Here’s blood a-plenty for both of us. You can furnish blue blood but I have good red blood for two.”
He deliberately gashed his arm with his penknife and smeared his face with blood, and then rubbed it all over the countenance of the laughing count, who seemed to look upon the whole affair as a kind of college boy’s prank.
“Now your ankle is sprained and you can’t walk, so I’ll go to the nearest farmhouse for assistance and there telephone Mr. Sutton that his prisoners have escaped. You were pinioned under the car and I had to dig you out,—remember!”
“All right, but I wish you would have the sprained ankle and let me go for aid. I’m beastly hungry and besides I don’t want to be laid up just now. I rather wanted to take a walk with Miss Douglas Carter this afternoon. Heavens! Wasn’t she beautiful last night?”
“Humph!”
“Much more beautiful than her sister, although I tell you that that Helen was very wonderful, especially after her hair came down and she had played angel. I wish I could have taken that stupid doctor’s car instead of my own little red devil. I should have enjoyed ditching his car, but we needed the endurance and speed of my own darling.”
“You had better be having some pain now in case a traveler comes along the road. I’ll get help as soon as possible;” and Herz went off without any comment on the comparative beauty of the two Misses Carter. Douglas was to him the most beautiful person in all the world, but he hated himself for loving her, feeling instinctively that his love was hopeless. His very name was against him and should she ever know the truth—but pshaw! These stupid people never would find out things. They were as easy to hoodwink as the darkies themselves.
Mr. Sutton’s fury knew no bounds when he got the message from Herz that the prisoners had escaped. It was with difficulty that he composed himself sufficiently to ask after the welfare of the two gentlemen who had undertaken the job of landing the negroes safely in jail.
“The Count de Lestis has sprained his ankle and his face is all smeared with blood,—I could not tell how great were his injuries,” lied the unblushing one over the telephone. “I spent hours getting him from under the car. Fortunately the mud was soft and deep and he is not seriously injured.”
“Just where was the accident?”
“At that sharp curve in the road about two miles this side of the court-house,—just beyond the bridge.”
“Umhum! Do you need any assistance?”
“No, I thank you. I’ll get some mules to right the car. I think I am mechanic enough to repair the engine.”
“How about a doctor for your friend? Dr. Wright is still with the Carters.”
“Oh—er—ah—I think he can get along very well without calling in a physician. I have bandaged his ankle.”
“You did a good deal before you gave warning as to the escape of the prisoners.”
There was no answer to this remark, so without further ceremony Mr. Sutton hung up the receiver.
There was to be no rest for the weary, it seemed. A search party must be called and the country scoured for the missing men.
Dr. Wright was pretty sure that James Hanks would not have been able to travel very far after the knockout blow he had received, so when they could not find him in the woods near by it was decided he must be in hiding in some cabin. The search continued but no trace was found of the missing men.
“Sounds shady to me,” declared Lewis Somerville.
“The idea! You can’t mean that the count and Mr. Herz deliberately let the men get away!” exclaimed Douglas.
“I believe they are capable of it.”
“Lewis! How can you?”
“I tell you I mistrust them both. I don’t like their names—I don’t like their looks—I don’t like their actions.”
“Nor do I,” declared Billy Sutton, who had dropped in that morning to have a chat after the ball. Everybody was too exhausted to think of going on with any very arduous work.
“Well, I think that after you accepted the count’s hospitality you have no right to say things about him,” broke in Nan.
“Well, hasn’t he accepted the hospitality of this country, and what is he doing? Don’t you know it is that fool darky school that got all those poor nigs thinking that Grantly belonged to them? I bet Miss Helen agrees with me.”
“I—I—don’t know,” said Helen faintly. “I am all mixed up about the whole thing. Why should the count want to make trouble?”
The matter was discussed up and down by the young people. The males for the most part sided against the count and his secretary, the females, with the exception of Lucy and Mag, taking up for them. Mrs. Carter was most indignant that anyone should say anything disagreeable about a gentleman of such fine presence and engaging manners as the Count de Lestis, one who knew so well how to entertain and who was so lavish. As for the other man, that Herz, no doubt he was fully capable of any mischief. He could not dance, had no small talk, and held his fork in a very awkward way when at the table.
The count’s ankle did not keep him in very long. He was soon around, although he limped quite painfully. His only difficulty was in remembering which foot was injured. He renewed his attentions towards the ladies at Valhalla. His protestations of concern for the Misses Grant were warm and convincing. He offered to come stay with them or let Herz come until they were sure that the county had settled down into its usual state of safety and peace.
Those ladies were not in the least afraid, however, but still declared that nobody would ever hurt them. It turned out that on the night of what came so near being such a tragedy they had had in the house exactly three dollars and twenty cents. What an angry crowd it would have been when they began the division!
Now came stirring news in the daily papers.
Diplomatic relations were broken with Germany and the declaration of war imminent! Excitement and unrest were on every hand. Sometimes Nan and Lucy would come home laden with extras with headlines of terror and bloodshed. Mr. Carter occasionally went to town with them.
“I feel as though I must find out what people are saying and thinking,” he would declare.
The truth of the matter was that Mr. Carter was well,—as well as ever, and the mere chopping of wood and stopping of cracks was not enough to occupy him. It had seemed to him as he went on that mad ride to the rescue of his beloved Helen that he was absolutely himself again. No longer could he let people plan his life for him. He was a man and meant to take the reins into his own hands. Not that his girls had not driven the family coach excellently well. They were wonderful, but he was able to do it for himself now and he intended to start.
He consulted Dr. Wright:
“I tell you, Wright, I am as fit as a fiddle and can get to work now.”
“Of course you are! Didn’t I give you a year? You have not taken quite a year but the time is almost up. The shock that night of the ball helped you on to a complete recovery a little ahead of time. Sometimes a nervous patient gets a shock that does more than rest. The trouble is, one can’t tell whether it will kill or cure.”
“Well, this one cured all right. Why, man, I could build a cathedral tomorrow!”
“Good!”
“I never can thank you enough for your kindness to me and my family. If there is ever anything I can do for you——”
“No doubt there will be,” was the doctor’s cryptic remark.
Herz kept up his walks with Douglas, although the girl did nothing to encourage him. She did everything to discourage him, in fact, except actually ask him to let her alone. She would find him waiting on the road after school. Sometimes he would even come to the school door for her if for any reason she was detained. These walks were usually taken when the count was off on one of his many business trips.
In Virginia, March means spring, although sometimes a very blustering spring. If one wanders in the woods it is quite usual to find hepatica and arbutus making their way up through the leaves. The tender green begins to make its appearance on hedge and tree, and in the old gardens jonquils and daffodils and crocuses pop up their saucy heads, defying possible late snows and frosts.
The roads were still muddy but not quite so bad as in the winter, and now, more than ever, Douglas with her faithful protector, Bobby, could enjoy the walks to and from school. The stilts did not have to be used nearly so often, although Nan and Lucy had become such adepts on their flamingo legs that they often mounted them merely for the pleasure and not because of the mud.
Valhalla was growing lovelier day by day. The gaunt trees had taken on a veil of green. The nations were at war. The United States was being forced into the game in spite of her attempts at neutrality; but Mother Nature’s slogan was: “Business as usual!” and she was attending to it exactly as she had from the beginning and as she will until the end of time.
Spring had come in good earnest, and with her the myriads of little creatures who must work so hard for a mere existence. Strange scratchings had begun in the chimneys at Valhalla. The swallows were back and gave the Carters to understand that they had been tenants in that old overseer’s house long before those city folks ever thought of such a thing as spending the winter in such a place. The robins were hopping about the lawn, trying to decide where they would build, while the mocking-birds were already busy in the honeysuckle hedge.
One Saturday, the Saturday before war was actually declared, the Count de Lestis came to call, bringing with him in a lovely wicker cage a carrier pigeon for Douglas.
“You promised that sometimes you would send me a message, remember,” he said with the sentimental glance that Douglas refused to respond to.
“Certainly I will. I’ll send a note asking you to come to dinner. Would that do?”
“Anything you send will do,” he sighed.
The pigeon was a beautiful little creature with glossy plumage and dainty red legs.
“He will come back straight to Weston because he has young in the nest. He is not like some men who are up and away at the smallest excuse.”
“But how cruel to take him away from his young!”
“Ah, but the hausfrau is there! She will see that no harm befalls the babies. And, too, she will remain faithful until her lord returns. As faithful as a pigeon means true unto death.”
The pigeon house had continued to be a thorn in the flesh to Mr. Carter. It was painted white, as that is what the pigeons like, and it was so large and so out of tone with the fine lines of the roof that Mr. Carter declared he could not bear to go to Weston any more.
No trace of the lost negroes was found, although Mr. Sutton had detectives from Richmond to work on the case. They had evidently got away and well away. The farmer who had been so nearly asleep when Helen and Dr. Wright arrived at the ball, the farmer whose wife wore the stiff, green silk, declared he had passed that road on the way home that night and he had seen no sign of a red car turned turtle down a ditch. Of course the neighbors all said he had been driving in his sleep.
Mr. Sutton made a trip into Richmond and had a conference with the governor. He told him that the bloodhounds employed to trace the darkies had never left the scene of the accident, although they had had many things belonging to the escaped men as a clue to tracing them. The governor told Mr. Sutton something that made him open his honest eyes very wide. At the same time he was cautioned to keep his honest mouth shut very tight. He came back to Preston with an air of mystery about him that disconcerted his good wife greatly.
“Margaret, could you accommodate a guest just now?”
“Why, certainly, if it is necessary, but who is the guest?”
“A gentleman I have never met, maybe there will be two of them,—but we must pretend they are our very good friends.”
“Why, William, are you crazy?”
“No, ma’am!” and then he whispered something to her, although they were alone, and she, too, opened her eyes very wide but promised to keep her mouth shut.
The visitors came, two quiet gentlemen with good manners and simple habits. Mr. and Mrs. Sutton decided they should be some long lost cousins from the west who were in the country for their health. Thus they explained their visitors to Billy and Mag and their neighbors. They brought a small Ford runabout which they used a great deal.
Mr. Sutton had a long conference with Mr. Carter. There was some more opening of eyes and shutting of mouths.
“What a fool I have been!” cried that gentleman. “I can see it all now. Lewis Somerville tried to make me see but I was quite hard on the boy. Well! Well! What is to be done?”
“Nothing! Just bide our time.”
“See here, Sutton, I believe there was method in that man’s madness when he got two electric light systems. He told me to order one and then said his secretary had ordered one, too. Pretended he had not told me to, and then was tremendously kind and magnanimous about it. I began to think maybe I had not understood,—you see my head hadn’t been very clear for business for many months and I mistrusted myself. I’ll wager anything that that extra battery is running a wireless station at Weston.”