Part 25 (2/2)

What was to be done? Love was almost irresistible, and life, perhaps, even at the worst was sweet; he had come to the resolution to deliver himself up to justice; but that could be done at any time; and for the present it could be deferred. He embraced his mother and his wife, and bade them rest quietly, as he would proceed no farther in the matter now.

The meeting soon after broke up.

One by one the members of the little community took leave of Valentine, promising to guard his secret, and remember him in their prayers.

After all the others had departed old Portiphar still lingered. And when the room was quite clear, he called Valentine to the door and said:

”Brudder Valley, I'se a poor man, wid a fam'ly o' chillun, an' ef so be you'se 'termin' on gibbin' o' yourself up I wouldn' min' walkin' far as the squire's office wid you myself.”

”Thank you, Portiphar; I will inform you when I need your services.

Good-night,” replied the young man, shutting the door upon him.

Portiphar had not proceeded half a dozen steps on his way before he felt himself seized by the shoulder, and he recognized as his a.s.sailant the strapping negro, young Joe, who, holding him tightly, said:

”See here, Daddy Fox! I thought what you was up to, so I stopped to give this 'vice! Ef Valley's took up, we shall all know who slipped the bloodhounds on him, an' then some dark night somethin' will happen to you so sudden you won't never know what hurt you! Tain't only me, but a great many more is a-watchin' of you!”

And with this brief and pithy exordium Joe released Portiphar, or rather spurned him forward, and went his own way. This threat put the old man in a cold sweat of terror. He knew the strong fellow-feeling among his own cla.s.s; that, even in the dangerous number of twenty persons, it would keep Valentine's secret; that he himself was suspected as a traitor; that, if Valentine should now be arrested, his own life might not be safe with those of the meeting who were not professing Christians; and he resolved to guide himself accordingly.

Several weeks pa.s.sed in safety to the wretched young man.

But, released from the awful solitude and silence of his own heavily-burdened soul, free to come among a few of his fellow-creatures, free to speak of the deep sorrow and remorse that consumed his heart, among those who pitied and shrank not from him, who prayed for and with him, Valentine's mind began to recover its healthy tone; he did not cease to mourn his crime, but he mourned no longer as one without hope; he was again received into the little brotherhood of the church, the simple ceremony being performed in the lone cabin; again he became the man of fervent prayer and eloquent exhortation; and powerful, far more powerful, was he now, through his terrible experiences and profound repentance, than ever he had been.

To his confidant brother, Elisha, he was accustomed to say:

”I know I shall not finally escape the earthly punishment of my crime. I know that sooner or later it must come; nor do I wish to avoid it; yet will I do nothing to hasten its arrival; but when it shall come, I will accept it.”

To which Elisha would reply: ”Our lives are in the hands of the Lord,”

or words to that purpose.

Weeks grew into months, spring ripened into summer, and summer waned into autumn, and still Valentine lived unmolested.

At length, however, near the last of September, a rumor got afloat that Valentine, the murderer of Mr. Waring, was concealed somewhere in the neighborhood of his late master's residence. How this report first got in circulation no one seemed to be able to tell; though how the secret, known to twenty people, had been guarded so long may be more of a subject for conjecture to many minds. Be that as it may, the peace of the unhappy little family was gone forever. Phaedra's lonely cabin in the pine barrens and Fannie's humble home in the city were subject to sudden invasions and searchings by day and by night. Their weekly prayer-meetings were surprised and broken up. But no trace of Valentine could be discovered; as unexpectedly as he had appeared, so suddenly had he again disappeared. The earth seemed to have swallowed him.

But this could not last forever; and upon the third of October Valentine was arrested under the following suspicious circ.u.mstances:

A police officer, stationed in concealment behind a hedge of Spanish daggers that bordered a lane crossing the highway at right angles, and running midway between the pine ridge and cypress swamp, saw what seemed a young negro woman coming down the lane. She was poorly and plainly clothed, and wore a long sunbonnet. There was nothing whatever in her manner or appearance to attract attention. Yet this police officer watched her closely. Presently, coming up the lane from an opposite direction, appeared the figure of an old negro. The policeman favored him also with a share of notice. Meeting the seeming woman, the old man laughed, held out his hand, and exclaimed, in a clear voice:

”Ha! Brudder Walley! Good-morning! Walking out to take a little air, eh?”

”Hus.h.!.+ for Heaven's sake, don't speak so loud or call me by name. Yes, I have stolen forth for a breath of fresh air.”

”Glad to hear it. Which way is you walking, Brudder Walley?” inquired the other, raising his voice.

”For the Lord's sake, I beg you will not call me by my name, or speak so loud!”

”No danger at all, Brudder Walley; no one in sight!” exclaimed the old man, louder than ever. ”Which way did you say you wer' goin', Brudder Walley?”

”I am going home.”

”Well, Brudder Walley, let me go long wid you dis time. I'd like to see Sister Phaedra,” pleaded the old negro.

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