Part 6 (2/2)
”That man ran away from Tarleton!--yes, you did, the very day that Mr.
Jefferson--a-hem!--_absented_ himself from Monticello!”
”Challenge that man--he deserted in the Indian War!
”November the fourth, in the year ninety-one, We had a sore engagement near to Fort Jefferson!”
”Here's a traveller who has seen the mammoth and climbed the Salt Mountain!”
”Here's a tobacco-roller! Hey, my man, don't you miss old friends on the road?”
Under cover of the high words, laughter, and vituperation which made a babel of the courtroom, Cary spoke to his opponent. ”Mr. Rand, do you remember that frosty morning, long ago, when you and I first met? I came upon you in the woods, and together we gathered chinquapins. Does it seem long to you since you were a boy?”
”Long enough!” answered Rand. ”I remember that day very well.”
”We told each other our names, I remember, and what each meant to do in the world. We hardly foresaw this day.” ”It is not easy to foresee,”
said Rand slowly. ”If we could, we might--”
”We might foresee our last meeting,” smiled Cary, ”as we remember our first.” He took a gla.s.s of wine from a pa.s.sing servant and put it to his lips, ”To another meeting, in the wood!” he said, ”since I may not quite drink to your victory.”
”Ah, my victory!” answered Rand. ”When I have it, I don't know that I shall care for it! That's a handsome youth, your brother--and he has worked for you like a Trojan! I'll drink to your brother!”
”Here are the Green Spring folk!” cried a voice. ”They always vote like gentlemen!”
The Green Spring folk were a squadron, and they voted Cary again within sight of the goal. A man who had been standing just without the open door rested his long musket against the wall and advanced to the polls.
”Last time I voted here,” he said, ”'twas for Mr. Jefferson. I reckon I'll have to vote to-day for Lewis Rand.”
A tumult arose. ”Adam Gaudylock belongs upon the Mississippi!--He isn't an Albemarle man!--He's a Kentuck--He's a Louisianian--He's a subject of Jefferson's new kingdom!--Challenged!--He can't vote in Albemarle!”
The hunter waited for the uproar to cease. ”You Federalists are mighty poor shots!” he exclaimed at last. ”You make no account of the wind. I am subject of no man's kingdom. I trade in New Orleans, and I travel on the great rivers, and I've friends in Kentucky, and I hunt where the hunting's good, but when I want to vote I come back to my own county where I was born, and where I grew up among you all, and where I've yet a pretty piece of land between here and the mountains. I voted here before, and I'll vote here again. The Gaudylocks may wander and wander, but their home is on the Three-Notched Road, and they vote in Albemarle.”
The vote standing, and Adam being followed by a string of hunters, traders, and boatmen, the Republican candidate was again and finally in advance. The winds blew for him from the four quarters. In the last golden light of the afternoon there was a strong and sudden muster of Republicans. From all directions stragglers appeared, voice after voice proclaiming for the man who, regarded at first as merely a protege of Jefferson, had come in the last two years to be regarded for himself.
The power in him had ceased to be latent, and friend and foe were beginning to watch Lewis Rand and his doings with intentness.
As the sun set behind the Ragged Mountains, the polls closed, and the sheriff proclaimed the election of the Republican candidate.
The Court House was quickly emptied, nor was the Court House yard far behind. The excitement had spent itself. The result, after all, had been foreknown. It drew on chilly with the April dusk, and men were eager to be at home, seated at their supper-tables, going over the day with captured friends and telling the women the news. On wheels, on horseback or afoot, drunk and sober, north, south, east, and west, they cantered, rolled, and trudged away from the brick Court House and the trampled gra.s.s, and the empty bowls beneath the locust trees.
The defeated candidate and the successful shook hands: Cary quiet and smiling, half dignified and half nonchalant; Rand with less control and certainty of himself. The one said with perfection the proper things, the other said them to the best of his ability. Young Fairfax Cary, standing by, twisting his riding-whip with angry fingers, curled his lip at the self-made man's awkwardness of phrase. Rand saw the smile, but went on with his speech. Colonel Churchill, who had been talking with Adam Gaudylock, left the hunter and came up to Cary. ”Ludwell, you and Fair are not going to Greenwood to-night! I have orders from the ladies to bring you back to Fontenoy--alive or dead!”
”I find myself very much alive, Colonel!” answered Cary. ”Thank you, I'll gladly spend the night at Fontenoy. Fontenoy would draw me, I think, if I _were_ dead!”
”d.i.c.k has a middling Madeira,” remarked Major Edward. ”And after supper Jacqueline shall sing to us. Good-evening, Mr. Rand!”
”Good-evening to you, Major Churchill,” said Rand. ”Good-evening, Mr.
Cary. Good-evening, gentlemen!”
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