Part 60 (1/2)
XXVI
AT THE DUSK
Within two days the city had regained its customary calm. It had, in fact, settled down to a more placid mood than at any time since the murder of Chief Donnelly. Immediately after the lynching the citizens had dispersed to their homes. No prisoners except the Mafiosi had been harmed, and of those who had been sought not one had escaped. The damage to the parish prison did not amount to fifty dollars. Through the community spread a feeling of satisfaction, which horror at the terrible details of the slaughter could not destroy. There was nowhere the slightest effort at dodging responsibility; those who had led in the a.s.sault were the best-known citizens and openly acknowledged their parts. It was realized now, even more fully than before the event, that the course pursued had been the only one compatible with public safety; and, while every one deplored the necessity of lynchings in general, there was no regret at this one, shocking as it had been.
This state of mind was reflected by the local press, and, for that matter, by the press of all the Southern cities where the gravity of the situation had become known, while to lend it further countenance, the Cotton Exchange, the Board of Trade, and the Chamber of Commerce promptly pa.s.sed resolutions commending the action of the vigilance committee. There was some talk of legal proceedings; but no one took it seriously, except the police, who felt obliged to excuse their dereliction. Of course, the stir was national--international, indeed, since Italy demanded particulars; but, serene in the sense of an unpleasant duty thoroughly performed, New Orleans did not trouble to explain, except by a bare recital of facts.
In spite of the pa.s.sive part he had played, Blake was perhaps more deeply affected by the doings at the prison than any other member of the party, and during the interval that followed he did not trust himself to see Vittoria. There was a double reason for this, for he not only recalled their last interview with consternation, but he still had a guilty feeling about Myra Nell. On the second afternoon after the lynching Bernie Dreux dropped in to tell him of his sister's return from Mobile.
”She read that I took a hand in the fuss,” Bernie explained, ”but, of course, she has no idea I did so much actual shooting. When she told me she was going to see you this afternoon, I came to warn you not to expose me.”
”Do you regret your part?”
”Not the least bit. I'm merely surprised at myself.”
”You surprised all your friends,” Blake said, with a smile. ”You seem to have changed lately.”
In truth, the difference in Dreux's bearing was noteworthy, and many had remarked upon it. The dignity and force which had enveloped the little beau for the first time when he stood before the a.s.sembled thousands still clung to him; his eyes were steady and bright and purposeful; he had lost his wavering, deprecatory manner.
”Yes, I've just come of age,” he declared, with some satisfaction. ”I realize that I'm free, white, and twenty-one, for the first time. I'm going to quit idling and do something.”
”What, for instance?”
”Well, I'm going to marry Felicite, to begin with, then maybe some of my friends will give me a job.”
”I will,” said Blake.
”Thanks, but--I'd rather impose on somebody else at the start. I want to make good on my own merits, understand? I've lived off my relatives long enough. It's just as bad to let the deceased members of your family support you as to allow the live ones--”
”Bernie!” Blake interrupted, gravely. ”I'm afraid I won't marry Myra Nell.”
”You think she won't have you, eh? She has been acting queerly of late; but leave it to me.”
Norvin was spared the necessity of further explanation by the arrival of the girl herself. Miss Warren seemed strangely lacking in her usual abundance of animal spirits; she was obviously ill at ease, and the sight of her brother did not lessen her embarra.s.sment. During the brief interchange of pleasantries her eyes were fixed upon Blake with a troubled gaze.
”We--I just ran in for a moment,” she said, and seemed upon the point of leaving after inquiring solicitously about his health.
”My dear,” said Bernie, with elaborate unction, ”Norvin and I have just been discussing your engagement.”
Miss Warren gasped and turned pale; Blake stammered.
With a desperate effort the girl inquired:
”D--do you love me, Norvin?”
”Of course I do.”
”See!” Bernie nodded his satisfaction.