Part 56 (1/2)
The woman back of the curtain was listening now with every sense alert, never for one instant had it occurred to her that Kenneth McVeigh did not know! How she listened for his next words!
”And why should a white girl like that be bought for the McVeigh plantation?”
There was a pause; then Clarkson laid down the other papers, and faced him, frankly:
”Kenneth, my boy, she was never intended for the McVeigh plantation, but was contracted for, educated, given certain accomplishments that she might be a desirable personal property of yours when you were twenty.”
McVeigh was on his feet in an instant, his blue eyes flaming.
”And who arranged this affair?--not--my father?”
”No.”
”Thank G.o.d for that! Go on, who was accountable?”
”Your guardian, Matthew Loring. He explains that he made the arrangement, having in mind the social entanglement of boys within our own knowledge, who have rushed into unequal marriages, or--or a.s.sociations equally deplorable with scheming women who are alert where moneyed youth is concerned. Mr. Loring, as your guardian, determined to forestall such complications in your case. From a business point of view he did not think it a bad investment, since, if you for any reason, objected to this arrangement, a girl so well educated, even accomplished, could be disposed of at a profit.”
McVeigh was walking up and down the room.
”So!” he said, bitterly, ”that was Matthew Loring's amiable little arrangement. That girl, then, belonged not to his estate, but to Gertrude's. He was her guardian as well as mine; he would have given me the elder sister as a wife, and the younger one as a slave. What a curse the man is! It is for such h.e.l.lish deeds that every Southerner outside of his own lands is forced to defend slavery against heavy odds. The outsiders never stop to consider that there is not one man out of a thousand among us who would use his power as this man has used it in this case; the many are condemned for the sins of the few!
Go on; what became of the girl?”
”She was, in accordance with this agreement, sent to a first-cla.s.s school, from which she disappeared--escaped, and never was found again. The money advanced from your estate for her education is, therefore, to be repaid you, with the interest to date; you, of course, must not lose the money, since Loring has failed to keep his part of the contract.”
”Good G.o.d!” muttered McVeigh, continuing his restless walk; ”it seems incredible, d.a.m.nable! Think of it!--a girl with the blood, the brain, the education of a white woman, and bought in my name! I will have nothing--nothing to do with such cursed traffic!”
Neither of them heard the smothered sobs of the woman kneeling there back of that curtain; all the world had been changed for her by his words.
She did not hear the finale of their conversation, only the confused murmur of their voices came to her; then, after a little, there was the closing of a door, and Colonel McVeigh was alone.
He was seated in the big chair where Matthew Loring had received the stroke which meant death. The hammock was still beside it, and she knelt there, touching his arm, timidly.
He had not heard her approach, but at her touch he turned from the papers.
”Well, my sweetheart, what is it?” he said, and with averted face she whispered:
”Only that--I love you!--no,” as he bent towards her, ”don't kiss me!
I never knew--I never guessed.”
”Never guessed that you loved me?” he asked, regarding her with a quizzical smile. ”Now, I guessed it all the time, even though you did run away from me.”
”No, no, it is not that!” and she moved away, out of the reach of his caressing hands. ”But I was there, by the window; I heard all that story. I had heard it long ago, and I thought you were to blame. I judged you--condemned you! Now I see how wrong I was--wrong in every way--in every way. I have wronged you--_you_! Oh, how I have wronged you!” she whispered, under her breath, as she remembered the men she looked for, had sent for--the men who were to take him away a prisoner!
”Nonsense, dear!” and he clasped her hands and smiled at her rea.s.suringly. ”You are over-wrought by all the excitement here since yesterday; you are nervous and remorseful over a trifle; you could not wrong me in any way; if you did, I forgive you.”
”No,” she said, shaking her head and gazing at him with eyes more sad than he had ever seen them; ”no, you would not forgive me if you knew; you never will forgive me when you do know. And--I must tell you--tell you everything--tell you now--”
”No, not now, Judithe,” he said, as he heard Masterson's voice in the hall. ”We can't be alone now. Later you shall tell me all your sins against me.” He was walking with her to the door and looking down at her with all his heart in his eyes; his tenderness made her sorrows all the more terrible, and as he bent to kiss her she shrunk from him.