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The Colonel winced. "And--er--undoubtedly _compensation_--if you do not press a fulfilment of the promise. Unless," he said, with an attempted return to his former easy gallantry, which, however, the recollection of her eyes made difficult, "it is a question of--er--the affections?"
"Which?" said his fair client, softly.
"If you still love him?" explained the Colonel, actually blushing.
Zaidee again looked up; again taking the Colonel's breath away with eyes that expressed not only the fullest perception of what he had _said_, but of what he thought and had not said, and with an added subtle suggestion of what he might have thought. "That's tellin'," she said, dropping her long lashes again. The Colonel laughed vacantly.
Then feeling himself growing imbecile, he forced an equally weak gravity. "Pardon me--I understand there are no letters; may I know the way in which he formulated his declaration and promises?"
"Hymn-books," said the girl, briefly.
"I beg your pardon," said the mystified lawyer.
"Hymn-books--marked words in them with pencil--and pa.s.sed 'em on to me," repeated Zaidee. "Like 'love,' 'dear,' 'precious,' 'sweet,' and 'blessed,'" she added, accenting each word with a push of her parasol on the carpet. "Sometimes a whole line outer Tate and Brady--and _Solomon's Song_, you know, and sich."
"I believe," said the Colonel, loftily, "that the--er--phrases of sacred psalmody lend themselves to the language of the affections. But in regard to the distinct promise of marriage--was there--er--no _other_ expression?"
"Marriage Service in the prayer-book--lines and words outer that--all marked," said Zaidee. The Colonel nodded naturally and approvingly.
"Very good. Were others cognizant of this? Were there any witnesses?"
"Of course not," said the girl. "Only me and him. It was generally at church-time--or prayer-meeting. Once, in pa.s.sing the plate, he slipped one o' them peppermint lozenges with the letters stamped on it 'I love you' for me to take."
The Colonel coughed slightly. "And you have the lozenge?"
"I ate it," said the girl, simply.
"Ah," said the Colonel. After a pause he added, delicately: "But were these attentions--er--confined to--er---sacred precincts?
Did he meet you elsewhere?"
"Useter pa.s.s our house on the road," returned the girl, dropping into her monotonous recital, "and useter signal."
"Ah, signal?" repeated the Colonel, approvingly.
"Yes! He'd say 'Kerrow,' and I'd say 'Kerree.' Suthing like a bird, you know."
Indeed, as she lifted her voice in imitation of the call the Colonel thought it certainly very sweet and birdlike. At least as _she_ gave it. With his remembrance of the grim deacon he had doubts as to the melodiousness of _his_ utterance. He gravely made her repeat it.
"And after that signal?" he added, suggestively.
"He'd pa.s.s on," said the girl.
The Colonel coughed slightly, and tapped his desk with his pen-holder.
"Were there any endearments--er--caresses--er--such as taking your hand--er--clasping your waist?" he suggested, with a gallant yet respectful sweep of his white hand and bowing of his head;--"er-- slight pressure of your fingers in the changes of a dance--I mean,"
he corrected himself, with an apologetic cough--"in the pa.s.sing of the plate?"
"No;--he was not what you'd call 'fond,'" returned the girl.
"Ah! Adoniram K. Hotchkiss was not 'fond' in the ordinary acceptance of the word," said the Colonel, with professional gravity.
She lifted her disturbing eyes, and again absorbed his in her own. She also said "Yes," although her eyes in their mysterious prescience of all he was thinking disclaimed the necessity of any answer at all. He smiled vacantly. There was a long pause. On which she slowly disengaged her parasol from the carpet pattern and stood up.
"I reckon that's about all," she said.
"Er--yes--but one moment," said the Colonel, vaguely. He would have liked to keep her longer, but with her strange premonition of him he felt powerless to detain her, or explain his reason for doing so. He instinctively knew she had told him all; his professional judgment told him that a more hopeless case had never come to his knowledge.
Yet he was not daunted, only embarra.s.sed. "No matter," he said, vaguely. "Of course I shall have to consult with you again." Her eyes again answered that she expected he would, but she added, simply, "When?"
"In the course of a day or two," said the Colonel, quickly. "I will send you word." She turned to go. In his eagerness to open the door for her he upset his chair, and with some confusion, that was actually youthful, he almost impeded her movements in the hall, and knocked his broad-brimmed Panama hat from his bowing hand in a final gallant sweep. Yet as her small, trim, youthful figure, with its simple Leghorn straw hat confined by a blue bow under her round chin, pa.s.sed away before him, she looked more like a child than ever.
The Colonel spent that afternoon in making diplomatic inquiries. He found his youthful client was the daughter of a widow who had a small ranch on the cross-roads, near the new Free-Will Baptist church--the evident theatre of this pastoral. They led a secluded life; the girl being little known in the town, and her beauty and fascination apparently not yet being a recognized fact. The Colonel felt a pleasurable relief at this, and a general satisfaction he could not account for. His few inquiries concerning Mr. Hotchkiss only confirmed his own impressions of the alleged lover--a serious-minded, practically abstracted man--abstentive of youthful society, and the last man apparently capable of levity of the affections or serious flirtation. The Colonel was mystified--but determined of purpose--whatever that purpose might have been.
The next day he was at his office at the same hour. He was alone--as usual--the Colonel's office really being his private lodgings, disposed in connecting rooms, a single apartment reserved for consultation. He had no clerk; his papers and briefs being taken by his faithful body-servant and ex-slave "Jim" to another firm who did his office-work since the death of Major Stryker--the Colonel's only law partner, who fell in a duel some years previous. With a fine constancy the Colonel still retained his partner's name on his door-plate--and, it was alleged by the superst.i.tious, kept a certain invincibility also through the _manes_ of that lamented and somewhat feared man.
The Colonel consulted his watch, whose heavy gold case still showed the marks of a providential interference with a bullet destined for its owner, and replaced it with some difficulty and shortness of breath in his fob. At the same moment he heard a step in the pa.s.sage, and the door opened to Adoniram K. Hotchkiss. The Colonel was impressed; he had a duellist's respect for punctuality.
The man entered with a nod and the expectant, inquiring look of a busy man. As his feet crossed that sacred threshold the Colonel became all courtesy; he placed a chair for his visitor, and took his hat from his half-reluctant hand. He then opened a cupboard and brought out a bottle of whiskey and two gla.s.ses.
"A--er--slight refreshment, Mr. Hotchkiss," he suggested, politely. "I never drink," replied Hotchkiss, with the severe att.i.tude of a total abstainer. "Ah--er--not the finest bourbon whiskey, selected by a Kentucky friend? No? Pardon me! A cigar, then--the mildest Havana."
"I do not use tobacco nor alcohol in any form," repeated Hotchkiss, ascetically. "I have no foolish weaknesses."
The Colonel's moist, beady eyes swept silently over his client's sallow face. He leaned back comfortably in his chair, and half closing his eyes as in dreamy reminiscence, said, slowly: "Your reply, Mr. Hotchkiss, reminds me of--er--sing'lar circ.u.mstances that --er--occurred, in point of fact--at the St. Charles Hotel, New Orleans. Pinkey Hornblower--personal friend--invited Senator Doolittle to join him in social gla.s.s. Received, sing'larly enough, reply similar to yours. 'Don't drink nor smoke?' said Pinkey. 'Gad, sir, you must be mighty sweet on the ladies.' Ha!" The Colonel paused long enough to allow the faint flush to pa.s.s from Hotchkiss's cheek, and went on, half closing his eyes: "'I allow no man, sir, to discuss my personal habits,' said Doolittle, over his shirt collar. 'Then I reckon shootin' must be one of those habits,' said Pinkey, coolly.
Both men drove out on the Sh.e.l.l Road back of cemetery next morning.
Pinkey put bullet at twelve paces through Doolittle's temple. Poor Doo never spoke again. Left three wives and seven children, they say --two of 'em black."
"I got a note from you this morning," said Hotchkiss, with badly concealed impatience. "I suppose in reference to our case. You have taken judgment, I believe." The Colonel, without replying, slowly filled a gla.s.s of whiskey and water. For a moment he held it dreamily before him, as if still engaged in gentle reminiscences called up by the act. Then tossing it off, he wiped his lips with a large white handkerchief, and leaning back comfortably in his chair, said, with a wave of his hand, "The interview I requested, Mr. Hotchkiss, concerns a subject--which I may say is--er--er--at present _not_ of a public or business nature--although _later_ it might become--er--er--both.
It is an affair of some--er--delicacy."
The Colonel paused, and Mr. Hotchkiss regarded him with increased impatience. The Colonel, however, continued, with unchanged deliberation: "It concerns--er--a young lady--a beautiful, high-souled creature, sir, who, apart from her personal loveliness-- er--er--I may say is of one of the first families of Missouri, and-- er--not--remotely connected by marriage with one of--er--er--my boyhood's dearest friends. The latter, I grieve to say, was a pure invention of the Colonel's--an oratorical addition to the scanty information he had obtained the previous day. The young lady," he continued, blandly, "enjoys the further distinction of being the object of such attention from you as would make this interview-- really--a confidential matter--er--er--among friends and--er--er-- relations in present and future. I need not say that the lady I refer to is Miss Zaidee Juno Hooker, only daughter of Almira Ann Hooker, relict of Jefferson Brown Hooker, formerly of Boone County, Kentucky, and latterly of--er--Pike County, Missouri."
The sallow, ascetic hue of Mr. Hotchkiss's face had pa.s.sed through a livid and then a greenish shade, and finally settled into a sullen red. "What's all this about?" he demanded, roughly. The least touch of belligerent fire came into Starbottle's eye, but his bland courtesy did not change. "I believe," he said, politely, "I have made myself clear as between--er--gentlemen, though perhaps not as clear as I should to--er--er--jury."
Mr. Hotchkiss was apparently struck with some significance in the lawyer's reply. "I don't know," he said, in a lower and more cautious voice, "what you mean by what you call 'my attentions' to--any one--or how it concerns you. I have not exhausted half a dozen words with--the person you name--have never written her a line--nor even called at her house." He rose with an a.s.sumption of ease, pulled down his waistcoat, b.u.t.toned his coat, and took up his hat. The Colonel did not move. "I believe I have already indicated my meaning in what I have called 'your attentions,'" said the Colonel, blandly, "and given you my 'concern' for speaking as--er--er mutual friend. As to _your_ statement of your relations with Miss Hooker, I may state that it is fully corroborated by the statement of the young lady herself in this very office yesterday."
"Then what does this impertinent nonsense mean? Why am I summoned here?" said Hotchkiss, furiously.
"Because," said the Colonel, deliberately, "that statement is infamously--yes, d.a.m.nably to your discredit, sir!"
Mr. Hotchkiss was here seized by one of those important and inconsistent rages which occasionally betray the habitually cautious and timid man. He caught up the Colonel's stick, which was lying on the table. At the same moment the Colonel, without any apparent effort, grasped it by the handle. To Mr. Hotchkiss's astonishment, the stick separated in two pieces, leaving the handle and about two feet of narrow glittering steel in the Colonel's hand. The man recoiled, dropping the useless fragment. The Colonel picked it up, fitting the shining blade in it, clicked the spring, and then rising, with a face of courtesy yet of unmistakably genuine pain, and with even a slight tremor in his voice, said, gravely:
"Mr. Hotchkiss, I owe you a thousand apologies, sir, that--er-- a weapon should be drawn by me--even through your own inadvertence-- under the sacred protection of my roof, and upon an unarmed man. I beg your pardon, sir, and I even withdraw the expressions which provoked that inadvertence. Nor does this apology prevent you from holding me responsible--personally responsible--_elsewhere_ for an indiscretion committed in behalf of a lady--my--er--client."
"Your client? Do you mean you have taken her case? You, the counsel for the Ditch Company?" said Mr. Hotchkiss, in trembling indignation.
"Having won _your_ case, sir," said the Colonel, coolly, "the--er--usages of advocacy do not prevent me from espousing the cause of the weak and unprotected."
"We shall see, sir," said Hotchkiss, grasping the handle of the door and backing into the pa.s.sage. "There are other lawyers who--"
"Permit me to see you out," interrupted the Colonel, rising politely.