Part 30 (1/2)
On the hopes and ambitions of those early days the colonel had realized, in a small way, something in the measure of a man who sets to work with the intention of making a million and finds himself content at last to count his gains by hundreds. He had taken up politics as a spice to the placid life of art, and once had represented his district in the state a.s.sembly, and four times had been elected county clerk. Then he had retired on his honors, with a competence from his early investments and an undivided ambition to paint corn.
Through all those years he had watched the struggles of Peter Newbolt, who never seemed able to kick a foothold in the steps of success, and he had seen him die at last, with his unrealized schemes of life around him. And now Peter's boy was in jail, charged with slaying old Isom Chase. Death had its compensations, at the worst, reflected the colonel.
It had spared Peter this crowning disgrace.
That boy must be a throw-back, thought the colonel, to the ambuscading, feud-fighting men on his mother's side. The Newbolts never had been accused of crime back in Kentucky. There they had been the legislators, the judges, the governors, and senators. Yes, thought the colonel, coming around the corner of the house, lifting the fragrant bunch of mint to his face and pausing a step while he drank its breath; yes, the boy must be a throw-back. It wasn't in the Newbolt blood to do a thing like that.
The colonel heard the front gate close sharply, drawn to by the stone weight which he had arranged for that purpose, having in mind the guarding of his mint-bed from the incursions of dogs. He wondered who could be coming in so early, and hastened forward to see. A woman was coming up the walk toward the house.
She was tall, and soberly clad, and wore a little shawl over her head, which she held at her chin with one hand. The other hand she extended toward the colonel with a gesture of self-depreciation and appeal as she hurried forward in long strides.
”Colonel Price, Colonel Price, sir! Can I speak to you a minute?” she asked, her voice halting from the shortness of breath.
”Certainly, ma'am; I am at your command,” said the colonel.
”Colonel, you don't know me,” said she, a little inflection of disappointment in her tone.
She stood before him, and the little shawl over her hair fell back to her shoulders. Her clothing was poor, her feet were covered with dust.
She cast her hand out again in that little movement of appeal.
”Mrs. Newbolt, Peter Newbolt's widow, upon my soul!” exclaimed the colonel, shocked by his own slow recognition. ”I beg your pardon, madam.
I didn't know you at first, it has been so long since I saw you. But I was thinking of you only the minute past.”
”Oh, I'm in such trouble, Colonel Price!” said she.
Colonel Price took her by the arm with tender friendliness.
”Come in and rest and refresh yourself,” said he. ”You surely didn't walk over here?”
”Yes, it's only a step,” said she.
”Five or six miles, I should say,” ventured the colonel.
”Oh, no, only four. Have you heard about my boy Joe?”
The colonel admitted that he had heard of his arrest.
”I've come over to ask your advice on what to do,” said she, ”and I hope it won't bother you much, Colonel Price. Joe and me we haven't got a friend in this world!”
”I will consider it a duty and a pleasure to a.s.sist the boy in any way I can,” said the colonel in perfunctory form. ”But first come in, have some breakfast, and then we'll talk it over. I'll have to apologize for Miss Price. I'm afraid she's abed yet,” said he, opening the door, showing his visitor into the parlor.
”I'm awful early,” said Mrs. Newbolt hesitating at the door. ”It's shameful to come around disturbin' folks at this hour. But when a body's in trouble, Colonel Price, time seems long.”
”It's the same with all of us,” said he. ”But Miss Price will be down presently. I think I hear her now. Just step in, ma'am.”
She looked deprecatingly at her dusty shoes, standing there in the parlor door, her skirts gathered back from them.
”If I could wipe some of this dust off,” said she.
”Never mind that; we are all made of it,” the colonel said. ”I'll have the woman set you out some breakfast; afterward we'll talk about the boy.”