"Miss Lou" Part 45

"Ma.r.s.e Scoville daid, shot of'n he hoss long way f'um yere," replied Aun' Jinkey sorrowfully. "He kyant harm you ner you 'im no mo', ner Chunk neider."

"Why the devil didn't you let us know Chunk was here las' night?"

"He my gran'son," was the simple reply.

"Well he isn't Zany's grandson! Now I know w'at she was snoopin' round nights fer, en Mrs. Baron'll know, too, 'fore I'm five minutes older."

Aun' Jinkey threw up her hands and sank back into her chair more dead than alive. She, too, had been taxed beyond endurance and all her power to act had ceased with her final effort to show that pursuit of Chunk would be useless.

Perkins speedily obtained an audience with Mrs. Baron, who became deeply incensed and especially against Zany. The inexorable old lady, however, never acted from pa.s.sion. She nodded coldly to the overseer, saying, "I will inform Mr. Baron and he will give you your orders in regard to the offenders."

Zany was too alert not to observe the interview and the omens of trouble in the compressed lips of "ole miss" and the steel-like gleam of her eyes. The moment Mrs. Baron was closeted with her husband the girl sped to the cabin. "Did you tell Perkins Chunk been yere?" she demanded fiercely.

"Fo' de Lawd I des gwine all ter pieces," gasped Aun' Jinkey.

"Hope ter grashus yer does, en de pieces neber come tergedder agin,"

said Zany in contemptuous anger and deep alarm.

Under the spur of tremendous excitement she hastened back, thinking as she ran, "Miss Lou too sick ter do anyting. I des got ter 'peal ter Miss Whately, er ole miss hab me whipped haf ter daith." When in response to a timid knock Mrs. Whately peered out of her niece's room she found a trembling suppliant with streaming eyes. Noiselessly shutting the door the matron said warningly:

"Don't you know Miss Lou's life depends on quiet?"

"How she gwine ter hab quiet w'en ole miss gwine ter hab Ma.r.s.e Perkins whip me'n Aun' Jinkey ter daith?"

"Nonsense! Why should either of you be punished?"'

"Well missus, I 'fess ter you," sobbed Zany, "kaze you got more feelin'

fer us. Chunk come las' night ter say good-by ter he granny'n me, en den he put out fer good, en ain' comin' back no mo'. Perkins en he dog foun' hit out dis mawnin', en Aun' Jinkey tole 'im, too, I reck'n, she all broke up. Perkins been talkin' ter ole miss en she look lak she al'ways does w'en ders no let up. Hit ud des kill Miss Lou if she knew me'n Aun' Jinkey wuz bein' whipped."

"Zany," said Mrs. Whately in rising anger, "you both had full warning.

You knew what Chunk had done. He stole my son's horse and one from his master also, beside doing other things that could not be forgiven."

"Please reckermember, missus, dat Chunk en me is mighty sweet on each oder en he Aun' Jinkey gran'boy. Tain' dat we 'prove of his goin's on, but how cud we tell on 'im en see 'im daid, w'en he des come ter say good-by. Oh, ef Miss Lou on'y well she neber let dat ole Perkins tech us."

"I will see your master before anything is done," said Mrs. Whately with troubled face. "Go to your work now. I will get Mrs. Waldo to watch in my place after a while."

Mr. Baron was depressed physically and mentally by the trying events of the past few weeks, but the fact that Chunk had ventured on the place again and had been permitted to escape angered him deeply. He also accepted the view of his wife and overseer that all discipline among the slaves would soon be at an end if so serious an offence were overlooked. It would be a confession of weakness and fear they believed which would have a most demoralizing effect in the quarters. Chunk represented the worst offences of which the slaves could be guilty; the most solemn warnings had been given against aiding and abetting him in any way. To do nothing now would be a virtual permission of lawlessness. There was no thought of mercy for Zany, but Aun' Jinkey's age, feebleness, together with her relations to Chunk and Miss Lou, complicated matters.

Husband and wife were still consulting when Mrs. Whately joined them.

Mrs. Baron did not welcome her guest, feeling that this was purely a personal affair, and was in no mood to brook interference.

"I can't be absent long," began Mrs. Whately, "Zany has told me everything and--"

"I think, sister, that Mr. Baron and I can manage this matter,"

interrupted Mrs. Baron coolly.

"No doubt you can," Mrs. Whately replied with dignity. "I did not come down to interfere with your domestic affairs. There is one point on which I have a right to speak and must speak. You can't punish Aun'

Jinkey and Zany now if knowledge of such punishment can in any way reach our niece. No matter how much they may deserve it, I say you cannot do it. I promised Zany nothing, held out no hope to her of escape, but to you I will speak plainly. If you should excite and disturb Louise now, you might easily cause her death. If you feel that you cannot overlook the offence (and I know how serious a one it is) wait till I can remove Louise to my own house. You will find that Dr.

Pelton when he arrives will confirm my words."

Mr. Baron weakened. He had not the relentless will of his wife, who interposed with cutting emphasis, "There is no need of Louise's knowing anything about it till she is much better, and it would be well for her to learn then, as well as the slaves, that there is still a master and mistress."

"It may be long before Louise is much better," Mrs. Whately replied gravely. "She has been subjected to a strain for which my conscience reproaches me, however it may be with yours. She is in a very critical state, and seemingly from some recent shock."

"Can the news Chunk brought have had any such effect?" broke forth Mrs.

Baron indignantly--"news of the death of that Yankee whom she met and treated as a social equal sorely against my will?"

"Lieutenant Scoville dead!" exclaimed Mrs. Whately looking shocked and sad.

"Yes, so Chunk told his granny."

Mrs. Whately was troubled indeed. Perhaps there had been much more than she had suspected. If so, this fact would account for the girl's extreme prostration. To bring these tidings might have been one of Chunk's chief motives in venturing on his brief visit. Miss Lou might know all about the visit and even have seen Chunk herself. If this were true, punishment of those who were in a sense her accomplices would be all the more disastrous. The perplexed matron felt that she must have more time to think and to acquire fuller knowledge of the affair.

"Brother," she said finally, "you are the guardian of Louise and in authority. She is now helpless and at present quiet. If quiet of mind and body can be maintained long enough she will no doubt get well. In a sense I am now her physician, and I say as Surgeon Ackley said of his patients, she cannot be disturbed. I positively forbid it. Dr. Pelton who must soon be here will take the same ground. Public opinion will support him and me in holding you responsible if you order anything endangering your ward's life and health at this time. Mrs. Waldo and her son would be witnesses. How far the former is acquainted with affairs we do not know. She watched with Louise all last night. If you act hastily you may be sorry indeed. I am trying kindness and conciliation with my people and they are doing better. I fear your policy is mistaken. Chunk is gone and beyond punishment. It is asking much to expect that his grandmother and the girl who loves him after her fashion would give information against him. It would seem that only the two slaves and Perkins know of this visit. Affairs are bad enough with you as it is and you can easily make them much worse. If you must punish for effect, take some stout field hand who is insubordinate or lazy. At any rate I love Louise and hope some day to call her daughter, and I will not have her life endangered. That's all I have to say."

Mr. Baron's flame of anger had died out. His views had not been changed by his harsh experience, but he had been compelled to see that there were times when he could not have his own way. So he said testily, "Well, well, we'll have to let the matter rest a while, I suppose."

Mrs. Whately departed. Mrs. Baron put her thin lips together in a way which meant volumes, and went out on her housekeeping round, giving orders to Zany in sharper, more metallic tones than usual. The delinquent herself had overheard enough of the conversation to learn that the evil day had at least been put off and to get some clew as to the future.

CHAPTER x.x.xIV

CHUNK PLAYS SPOOK

Since Mr. Baron had yielded for the present, Mrs. Whately was glad nothing need be said to the physician concerning their affairs. His positive injunction of quiet was sufficient, and now that Mr. Baron was impressed with its need and had had time for sober second thought, he concluded that he had trouble enough on hand as it was. He felt that every quiet day gained was so much toward securing the absolutely essential crops. Perkins was therefore summoned and the situation in part explained.

The overseer was in unusual good-humor over the death of Scoville, and if Chunk had escaped finally, there was compensation in the thought of having no more disturbance from that source. So, fortunately for poor Zany, avarice came to the fore and Perkins agreed that the best thing to do was to bend every energy to "making the crops," using severity only in the furtherance of this end.

"Beg pardon, Mr. Baron, but I must have sump'n up and down clar.

There's been so many bosses of late en my orders been knocked eendwise so of'en that I don't know, en the hands don't know whether I've got any po'r or no. Ef this thing 'bout Chunk gits out, en n.o.body punished, the fiel'-hans natch.e.l.ly think we darsn't punish. Mought es well give up then."

"Punish as much as you think necessary to keep the quarter-hands at work. Then it is plain," replied Mr. Baron.

Very seldom had Perkins been in so complacent and exultant a mood as when he left the presence of Mr. Baron that morning. But his troubles began speedily. Jute had slept little the night before and was stupid and indifferent to his work in the afternoon. Finding threats had little effect, the overseer struck a blow with his cane. The negro turned fiercely but was confronted with a revolver. He resumed work doggedly, his sullen look spreading like the shadow of a cloud to the faces of the others. So many began to grow indifferent and reckless that to punish all was out of the question. Perkins stormed and threatened, striking some here and there, almost beside himself from increasing anxiety and rage. Whichever way he turned a dark vindictive face met his eyes. The slaves had enjoyed a brief sense and sweet hope of freedom; he was seeking to refasten the yoke with brutal hands and it galled as never before. Even his narrow arbitrary nature was impressed with the truth that a great change was taking place; that a proclamation issued hundreds of miles away was more potent than his heavy hand. He was as incapable of any policy other than force as was his employer of abandoning the grooves in which his thoughts had always run.

The worrisome afternoon finally ended, leaving the hara.s.sed man free to seek consolation from his jug. Mr. Baron relapsed into his quiet yet bitter mental protest. "Ole miss" maintained inexorable discipline over the yard and house slaves, keeping all busy in removing every stain and trace of the hospital. She governed by fear also, but it was the fear which a resolute, indomitable will produces in weaker natures.

Mrs. Waldo already felt uncomfortable. There was no lack of outward courtesy, but the two women had so little in common that there was almost a total absence of sympathy between them. The guests through the fortune of war resolved therefore to depart in a day or two, making the journey home by easy stages. Mrs. Whately was both polite and cordial, but she also felt that the family should be alone as soon as possible, that they were facing problems which could better be solved without witnesses. It was her hope now to nurse her charge back to health, and, by the utmost exercise of tact, gain such an ascendency over the girl as to win her completely. Granting that the matron's effort was part of a scheme, it was one prompted by deep affection, a yearning to call her niece daughter and to provide for the idolized son just the kind of wife believed to be essential to his welfare. Much pondering on the matter led her to believe that even if the tidings of Scoville's death had been the cause of the final prostrating shock, it was but the slight blow required to strike down one already feeble and tottering to her fall. "He probably made a strong, but necessarily a pa.s.sing impression on the dear child's mind," she reasoned. "When she gets well she will think of him only as she does of the other Union soldiers who so interested her."

The object of this solicitude was docile and quiet, taking what was given her, but evidently exhausted beyond the power of thought or voluntary action.

The night pa.s.sed apparently without incident, but it was a busy one for Chunk. He again summoned Jute and his other confederates to a tryst in the grove to impress them with his plans. It was part of his scheme to permit a few nights to pa.s.s quietly so that disturbances would not be a.s.sociated with him, he being supposed far away. In the depths of the adjacent forest he had found safe shelter for himself and horse, and here, like a beast in its lair, he slept by day. The darkness was as light to him about the familiar plantation, and he prowled around at night unmolested.

During this second meeting he attempted little more than to argue his dusky a.s.sociates out of their innate fear of spooks and to urge upon them patience in submitting to Perkins's rule a little longer. "I des tells you," he declared, "dey ain' no spooks fer us! Dere's spooks on'y fer dem w'at kills folks on de sly-like. If ole Perkins come rarin' en tarin' wid his gun en dawg, I des kill 'im ez I wud a rattler en he kyant bodder me no mo'; but ef I steal on 'im now en kill 'im in he sleep he ghos pester me ter daith. Dat de conslomeration ob de hull business. I doan ax you ter do any ting but he'p me skeer' im mos' ter daith. He watchin' lak a ole fox ter ke'p you en Zany yere. Ef you puts out, he riz de kentry en put de houn's arter you. We des got ter skeer 'im off fust. I'm studyin' how ter git dat dawg out'n de way. Des go on quiet few mo' days en ef you year quar noises up on de hill whar de sogers bur'ed you know hit me. Look skeered lak de oders but doan be fear'd en keep mum."