The Man from Jericho Part 1

The Man from Jericho.

by Edwin Carlile Litsey.

CHAPTER I

There had been a thunder-shower in the middle of the afternoon, but it had pa.s.sed away about five o'clock, accompanied by sullen rumbles and intermittent flashes of uncertain lightning. Then the sun burst forth and poured its light over the drenched Kentucky landscape. It showed millions of diamonds and pearls strung upon the bending blades of bluegra.s.s; broad expanses of molten silver where the ponds lay, and smaller mirrors of the same metal where puddles had formed from the recent downpour. It showed boundless h.o.a.rds of gold where the nasturtiums were banked in a crimson ma.s.s, and the mottled bells of the rank trumpet-vines sent forth a silent summons to the answering sunshine. In the vivid green of a large oak tree a pair of orioles wove a wonderful pattern of living flame as they darted about among the boughs. Two honey-bees crawled out upon the tiny porch of their little home, and, being a.s.sured by the instinct which G.o.d gave them that the storm was over, arose on buzzing wings to seek some distant store of sweets.

His attention being drawn by the sunlight bursting suddenly through the window of the library where he sat reading--to be exact, it fell upon the open page before his eyes--Major Thomas Dudley closed the book, leaving one long forefinger between the leaves to mark the spot where he had been interrupted, and turned to look outdoors. The scene which was spread before him brought a peaceful but sad smile to his face. For two hundred feet or more the broad yard sloped very gently down to the highway, from which it was separated by an iron fence of ornamental design, but now much worn, and sadly bent and twisted in places. This yard was carpeted with a luxuriant expanse of bluegra.s.s in which no alien growth was allowed to find root. There were a number of majestic trees, of the oak and maple variety, and a few shrubs, nicely trimmed. A gravel driveway came up one side from the road, led by the old portico in front, and from thence disappeared towards the rear in the direction of the stable. Through the open window came the odour of honeysuckle, heavy and sweet; the vine grew near the corner of the house. It was not a very sightly shrub, and it marred the wonderful correctness of the lawn no little, but the Major had his reasons for letting it alone. As a matter of fact, the Major's wife had planted it many years before, when their love-dream was at its height. Now she was gone, but it remained, and it helped to keep fresh and vigorous the memories which made Thomas Dudley's daily life a benediction to all who came within its radius.

As the perfume from the tiny white and yellow flowers crept subtly to his nostrils--fine, delicate nostrils they were, like those of a well-bred horse--a hungry, beseeching look stole over the old gentleman's face. He leaned forward and placed one hand upon the window-sill, while his eyes half closed, and his countenance became transfigured. Then, had any been watching, they would have seen his lips move, as though they were shaping words.

At this point the sound of shuffling feet was heard coming from the hall running through the center of the house. Another moment a throat was cleared in the doorway, and an apologetic voice spoke.

"Beg pahd'n, suh; but de Prince am 'peah to be bettah, suh. I went to de stable ez soon ez de rain quit to tek a look at 'im, 'n' he hab come to be feed, suh, sho'!"

"Peter! Peter! What's this you're telling me? The Prince eating again!"

With remarkable activity the Major arose to his feet and faced about, eyeing with undisguised elation the figure in the doorway. It was that of a very old negro, bowlegged and bent. His face was brown, wrinkled and kindly in expression, with tiny corkscrews of gray hair, each totally isolated, dispersed over it. His head was flat and bald, but for a fringe of white wool shaped like the tonsure of a monk. He wore a rusty pair of trousers, so patched that it was impossible to tell what their original material had been; a brown hickory shirt tolerably new, and suspenders made of strips of bed-ticking. His huge feet were encased in a pair of old shoes, slit almost into shreds at the toes for the benefit of the "mis'ry" which he frequently had there. Such was Peter, faithful servant to the Dudleys before, during, and since the Civil War.

"_Eatin', suh; eatin'!_" he answered, with vehemence, replying to his master's question and accompanying the first and last words with a forward jerk of his head, by way of emphasis.

"This is good news you bring me, boy; we must have a look at him. He's the best bred horse in the Commonwealth," he added, to himself, as he turned aside to place his book upon a table, carefully noting the page as he did so. "It would be a pity in more ways than one for him to die by accident or foul play." Then aloud--"Have you seen your mistress recently?"

"Not since dinner, suh. I'ze heerd her say afo'time, do, dat she laks a nap in de rainy ebenin'."

From somewhere above a voice broke out singing as Peter spoke. The tune was a popular air of the day, lilting and free. The tones were those of a young woman, for they rang with irrepressible vitality, and there was hope and laughter and faith and happiness in them. The Major had started forward, but now he stopped and his head sank as under a benediction.

Likewise did Peter's, for he always reflected his master. Thus they stood, types of the bond and the free, while that tender voice rang on above them as its owner moved about the room, for they could plainly hear her light footsteps going to and fro.

In his younger years the Major must have been a man to command any one's notice. Now, as he stood with his chin sunk in his stock under the spell of present enchantment and precious recollections of the past, one could behold the remnants of a magnificent physical being. He was exceedingly tall, long of limb and square-shouldered. His hands were slender and white; his face naturally grave and thoughtful. He was clean shaven except for close cropped mustache and carefully cut imperial, both white. His complexion was ruddy, but whether this was natural or acquired it is not for us to say. Certain it is, however, that Peter mixed his mint juleps three times a day a few minutes before each meal.

Certain it is, also, that never in his long life had Major Dudley taken more whiskey at one time than was good for him. He held that it was a Kentucky gentleman's prerogative to drink, in moderation, and he had the profoundest contempt for the weakling who would b.e.s.t.i.a.lize himself by getting drunk. "Whiskey, suh," he would say, "is like every other luxury; to be used, not abused."

The singing ceased, and there was the patter of feet on the stair.

"She's awake, Peter," said the Major; "get my hat." Then as he stepped into the hall--"News, daughter!" he cried, to the vision in pink and white muslin descending the curved stairway. "Peter reports that the Prince is eating. Will you go with me to see him?"

A little croon of delight escaped the vision, and the next instant she had settled like a b.u.t.terfly upon the Major's broad breast. "I knew he would get well!" she exclaimed, rising on tiptoe and pulling with both her hands on the shoulders of her father in a vain attempt to reach his lips with hers. He, seeing her purpose, caught her around the waist and lifted her bodily, though there was a matter of a hundred and twenty pounds to reckon with, and gave her the caress with a hearty smack.

"You'll have to learn to bring a stool along with you!" he panted; "I'm getting too old to lift such a buxom la.s.s." But he smiled denial of his speech and patted her cheek fondly.

Peter presenting his stove-pipe hat with a low bow, the Major took it, placed it upon his spa.r.s.e gray locks, and drawing his daughter's hand through his arm they pa.s.sed out upon the long back porch, which had an eastern exposure, but was shaded all along its length by a species of vine which grew luxuriantly every summer. Peter preceded them, and Peter in motion was a sight to behold. It is useless to attempt to describe his method of locomotion. To one unfamiliar with the peculiar gait of a "befo' de wah" negro I can give no adequate picture of the old darkey as he shambled along over the large flat stones laid in a row which formed a walk to the gate of the lot wherein stood the stable. Behind him came the stately form of Major Dudley, and by his side Miss Julia, his only child, whose feet had just pa.s.sed those elusive portals which give into the magical realms of young womanhood.

"What _has_ been the matter with The Prince, daddy?" queried the young lady, lifting an annoyed and earnest countenance which Nature had blessed, or banned, however one may regard unusual beauty.

A deep furrow was immediately visible on Major Dudley's forehead, indenting his brow just above his nose. It only came when he was angry, or intensely worried. His gray eyes gleamed with subdued resentment, and for the s.p.a.ce of a few steps he did not answer.

"We do not know," he said, then, but he kept his eyes set straight ahead, instead of looking at his questioner.

"But you have suspicions, daddy, dear," she pleaded, coming closer to him, and pressing his arm gently. "Have you a right--have you the wish to keep these from me? Am I not Major Dudley's daughter, and is not your blood my blood? The Prince has been very sick. Corn and hay don't make a horse ill. What do you fear, daddy?"

The old man stopped and faced his daughter. She was quite serious now.

Her firm chin, her positive but pliant mouth, her deep brown eyes which showed courage, and the waving wealth of her chestnut hair, all made a quick pride rush to the Major's heart, and brought a satisfied smile to his mouth. His stern eyes melted into tenderness and love.

"My child, you shall know all I know; all I suspect, rather, for nothing is positive. We--Peter and I--fear an attempt has been made to poison The Prince."

"_Daddy!_"

The word struggled through an indrawn breath of horror.

"The horse's symptoms indicated this. Peter found him in time for an antidote which he administered to be beneficial, else I fear we would have lost him. We examined the feed which had been given him last night, and found some of it mixed with a whitish powder. In view of this we could come to only one conclusion."

"Who--"

The sentence which the girl's lips started to frame died with the first word. Her lips met firmly, and a slow dread gathered in her eyes.

From the highway not far off came the sound of a horse's hoofs, running at full speed. The Major was facing the road, and the girl turned to see a horseman dash furiously along the pike and disappear behind a fringe of trees which bordered the road farther on. Julia turned to her father, and saw written plainly upon his face a confirmation of her fears.

"He?" she breathed, awesomely.

"Or an emissary. He is our only enemy, and in all his stable of thoroughbreds he has not one that can approach The Prince!"

"Would he dare?"

"Anything, little girl.--Come."

At the door of The Prince's stall they stopped, and looked in eagerly.

The horse recognized them, and whinnied feebly. Peter, with curry-comb and brush, was going over the splendid animal vigorously, though not a speck showed on his shining coat.

"Better, suh! Better, young missus!"

The old negro spoke encouragingly between the grunts caused by his exertion.

"He am beginnin' to tek notice. He et mos' he feed, 'n' he 'peared right glad to see me. I wush I c'd lay dese brack han's on de low-down skunk whut tech 'im! I'd break his naik!"

The Prince was standing a little stiffly, and his slender, patrician head hung lower than it should, but his breathing was not labored, and his eyes were bright and beaming with intelligence.

"He'll come, Peter; he'll come!" said the Major, warmly. "He had a close call, but your prompt action saved him. You're a good boy, Peter, and I commend you!"

Peter grinned his appreciation, and rubbed the satin limbs with renewed vigour.

"Ya.s.suh, he'll come all right, 'n' w'en de race hit come, he'll beat eb'ry one ob 'em! De hoss ain't folded whut kin tech 'im!"

"I believe you, boy. Only once in a lifetime is a hoss born like The Prince."

Julia slipped into the stall as her father was speaking and going up to the n.o.ble brute, put both arms around his neck and cuddled her check upon his shoulder.

"Poor old fellow!" she murmured. "Have they used you badly because you belonged to us? Never mind. They shan't do it again. Miss Julia loves you, and all of us love you, and we are going to take care of you."