CHAPTER XVII.

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How the coming of one person can change an atmosphere! At one moment the breath we draw is a new and invigorating hope, the next instant the air is parched and dead—we see an evil eye, a hated face. My education was not systematic; I read as a hungry man eats; and, as my learning progressed, I began to give myself up to a speculation upon the sadness of my lot in life, my eyes becoming wider and wider opened to the fact that knowledge could avail me nothing, could but throw a lime-light upon my bondage and make it ghastly; but when the doctor returned I looked back at my state of happiness during his absence. It was true that Old Miss gave over no opportunity to humiliate me, but I had grown so accustomed to this that no longer did it sting me—I put it down as the soured whim of an old woman. But the sight of the doctor, the fact that he and I were under the same roof, was iced water constantly dripping upon my head. I was not physically afraid of him; gladly would I have fought him; in a fight I could have cut his throat and stood looking calmly upon his blood, and thousands of times had I wished that I were a white man, that I might challenge him; but morally I stood in horror of him. I avoided him, slinking about like a thief; I hid myself behind stone walls and in thickets until he had passed, but at the table I was compelled to look upon him and to hear his voice. Once when he spoke to me my Young Master saw me tremble and when we had gone forth together, the young man said to me: "Dan, don't stand behind my chair at meal time any more. It's a piece of nonsense anyway, a notion covered with mold."

I thanked him and told him that I would not, but at supper that evening, Old Mistress flouted so and made such a fuss at my absence that Master came to the foot of the stairs and called me. "It won't be for long," he said as I came down. "I don't believe that fellow can stay here much longer."

But the days wore along and he continued to remain, and though I was skillful in my avoidance of him, yet he sometimes confronted me when I least expected it. One afternoon, during the wheat harvest, I was sent to the distillery to get whisky to be served to the hands. Just as the distiller had handed me the full jug, the doctor stepped out and in apparent surprise asked me what I wanted there. I told him that Old Master had sent me for whisky.

"I believe you are lying," said he, "but take it and go, and don't fool along the road, either. Do you hear?"

I told him that I had no intention of fooling along the road. "That yellow rascal is petted until his fingers and toes stick out," said he to the distiller. "I wanted to take him and make something of him, but they wouldn't let me. But I'll get him yet."

"He'd be worth fifteen hundred if he was a little pearter," said the distiller, looking at me as I moved off.

"Yes," the doctor agreed, "and an apple tree sprout well laid on would add many a dollar to his worth."

I walked as rapidly as I could, but the doctor being on horseback soon overtook me. I wondered what new insult was fermenting in his mind. I had not long to wait. "Boy," said he, riding up, "are you sure you haven't swigged some of that liquor?"

"I have not touched it," I answered without looking up.

"Stop a minute," he commanded and I obeyed. He looked up and down the road, and then said: "Take out that corn-cob stopper and drink."

"It is not for me, sir," I replied.

"I don't give a d— whom it's for; you drink it."

I stood near a fence and with one arm resting upon it as I replied: "You want me to get back drunk to bring disgrace upon my Young Master and myself."

He kicked his horse and rode almost upon me. His eyes were green with hate and had he thrust forth a forked tongue like a serpent, I could not have felt surprise. He stood in his stirrups and lifted high his riding whip. "You yellow ooze of the devil, I'll make you drink that liquor or I'll slit your hide until it won't hold feathers." His lips were apart, his teeth were set and his brows were knit with the force that he summoned to his arm. Within a second this stinging blow must fall, but I commanded him in so sharp a tone to hold that his arm came down slowly and his whip hung at his side. "Do you threaten me!" he hissed, thrusting his chin forward. Year after year he had eluded the notice of age, had escaped, it seemed to me, without enumeration, but now the time he had cheated came fall upon him, wrinkling his face, yellowing his countenance and making him hideous. He was so close upon me, leaning forward with his sharp chin pointed at my heart, that I could smell the fumes of brandy on his breath. He gazed hard, trying, I could see, to hold my attention, but I noticed that his hands were not idle. He changed his whip to his left hand and with his right plucked out a keen knife. I was in a corner of the fence and the horse's breast was almost against me. And thus he was poised like a fierce animal, waiting for my reply, hoping that it would not be one of submission. I was not frightened, but reason flew through my mind like a bird caught by a strong wind. To defend myself meant the gallows.

"Doctor," said I, "you have no cause to seek my life. You are a white man and I am what you are pleased to call a negro. In the court-house your mere word would be a law against my oath. You have every moral as well as, at present, every physical advantage. You are a man of education and are closely connected with one of the best families in this proud State, and now what prompts you to tread upon me?"

My coolness drove him mad. He kicked his horse and jammed me into the corner of the fence. For a second his knife gleamed like the belly of a snake circling in the air. I threw up the jug, caught the knife and the broken blade fell to the ground—I seized the horse in the nostrils, as I had seen Mr. Clem grasp "the devil," wrenched him until he fell upon his knees, caught up the jug which I had let fall at my feet, threw it over into the soft clover and with a spring followed it. The enraged man's oaths ripped like a saw striking a knot.

"I'll get you yet," he cried, shaking the knife-handle at me.

"You will feel better when you are sober," I said, smiling at him. I could have sliced his heart and therefore I smiled—at the happy thought. "And I want to tell you one thing. I may be hanged one mile from the court-house, but this is the last time I am going to run from you." I turned to go, but he called me. "You have threatened me," he said, not raging, but with more of quiet than I could have expected, "and on my part it would be justice to take a gun and shoot you, but if you will agree to say nothing about this affair when you go to the house, I will swear never again to molest you. The truth is I've been drinking and am not myself."

"I looked at it in another light, sir. I thought that the drink had given your true self a bold development."

"God, but you can talk, you yellow—but I say, Dan, I mean what I say. Agree not to mention this affair and I'll always treat you civilly. I've had enough to spoil the temper of any man alive, but I'll hold it down so far as you are concerned. What do you say?"

"I agree, sir."

"All right. Now give me a drink out of that jug and I'll call it square."

"No, this liquor is not for you; it is for the harvest hands; it isn't up to your grade."

"Consideration or impudence, one of the other—but I'll let it pass. All right, now," he added, tightening his bridle-rein to ride away, "remember your part of the contract and I'll remember mine."

Old Jason, at the head of the men in the field, censured me for passing so much time on the road, and old Steve, humorous rascal, gave a broad grin as he looked upon the whisky and swore that he didn't think that I had passed anything on the road; that everything had passed me. Old Master came walking up to the clump of alder bushes under which a number of the hands had gathered to "blow" in the shade, and after making a pretense of drinking with them, told me to walk to the house with him. With what envy the black men regarded me as I strode off beside the man who held their destiny in the hollow of his hand! Looking back I could see many a dark frown. Among the blacks the "yaller man" was never a favorite. An attempt to be refined and especially a smattering of learning invoked contempt from the sturdy yeoman of the negro quarter.

"They are not so mighty fond of you," said Old Master as we walked along. His old eyes had caught the expression of their disfavor.

"No, sir, and I am sorry, for I would give much for their good opinion."

"I'm glad to hear you say that, my boy. It is a true proof of a gentlemanly instinct. The coarse-grained man holds himself above the opinion of those far below him, but a gentleman would value the good will of a dog. By the way, have you seen the doctor to-day?"

"I think, sir, that I saw him in the road as I was coming from the distillery."

It was some time before he spoke again, walking along with his gaze bent upon the ground. "Dan"—and he looked up at me, "do you remember the time you threw the tumbler on his head?"

"As well as if it were but an hour ago," I answered.

"If you had seen him this morning you would have felt like striking him a harder blow," he said. "We had a quarrel and my old blood was so stirred that I was almost tempted to cut his throat. He made a demand on me for more money than I could really afford to give—the scoundrel, I have given him already far more than his share—and was insulting when I refused him. Your Mistress has been brought to see him in his true light and I have her consent to drive him away and I'll do it. He calmed down and apologized, but I told him that he must leave within a day or two, and he'll have to. I can't stand him any longer."

"Master, I don't see how you could have stood him so long."

"It was to keep the neighbors from talking," he replied. "Differently situated, I would have kicked him into the road long ago. He is the strangest man I ever met. He's bright, and at times he appears the perfect gentleman and is exceedingly interesting, but in a moment his nature seems changed. We were at the barn this morning when his insulting mood came on, and I looked up at a scythe hanging there and was sorely tempted to mow off his head. But that would never do."

We were walking along a fence bordering the turn-pike. Someone in a buggy called the old man and I went onward to the house, with a regret that I had been so long away from my law book. We had given to our room the name of office, for Young Master had already begun to recite his lessons to a retired judge who almost daily dismounted from his horse to give us the benefit of his learning. In the office I found Bob and Mr. Clem.

"Why don't you go in with some lawyer in town and be done with it?" Mr. Clem was saying as I entered the room. "You are not quite old enough yet to reach the bar, but you've got about all the law you could get at school, and about all that remains now is to pick up the details of practice."

"Yes, I know," said Bob, "but when a young man goes into an old lawyer's office he is expected to do all the work, take none of the glory and receive but little of the pay. We'll hang on here a while longer, won't we, Dan?" He looked up at me with a smile.

"Yes, sir; and when we go, we'll go strong."

"Dan is to be my silent partner," he said, nodding at his uncle.

The old fellow jerked his shoulders as he replied: "Yes, sir, and he'd better be pretty devilish silent at that, I tell you. The leaves from so many abolition pamphlets are fluttering in the air that anything with the appearance of granting the negro more of equality with the white man will be resented in no uncertain way. But I'm glad to hear that Dan is to be your partner and I advise you to keep it strictly to yourselves. Heigh ho." He leaned back with a stretch. "This country is slower than tar in January. Haven't seen but two horses—horses that I'd have, you understand—go over the pike to-day. And that's rather discouraging for a man who insists on paying his way. Only two horses, and I didn't get but one of them." I thought to ask him concerning the outcome of his contest with the preacher, but he continued to talk, and I never thought of it again. Billows came to swallow the little waves.

"Yes, sir, only two horses that I would have, and yet this is the State of Kentucky, where Clay lived and died. Two horses, mind you, and I didn't get but one of them. Fellow didn't want to swap; said he was in a hurry. Might as well have said that he didn't want to live because he was in a hurry. But I got him to stop, and then I brought out the bay mare that I got the other day. She had her Sunday clothes on and I could see that she caught his eye. He got down and looked at her feet and then gathered up the skin on her shoulders; said he thought it was a little too tight. I told him that there wasn't anything loose about her; that the contract only called for enough skin to cover her. Well, we swapped, and I got twenty-eight dollars to boot, all he had. Would have got more, but he didn't have it. He was a sad sort of fellow and I didn't want to take advantage of him, without giving him some sort of a show, so I told him that he'd better not take my word for anything. But he did."

"Wasn't your mare all right?" Bob inquired.

"Oh, yes, in a measure—bad measure, I might say. She had been galloped down-hill on the pike until her shoulders were sorter stove up, and that's what made the skin too tight, and her wind ain't of the best, but she's good enough for him. I took his horse to town—just got back—and got a first rate price for him on the public square."

After a time Mr. Clem lay down and fell asleep, and I took up a book to keep the silent company of Young Master, and I read page after page without being able to grasp a single idea. How hopeless everything was determined to appear. Abetted by the kindest of men I had stolen into the field of thought, was preparing to become an out-lawed advocate of the law, a sneak-thief behind the bar. A silent partner, indeed, a mysterious counsellor, a dumb orator. As supper-time drew near, I shuddered at the prospect of meeting the doctor's eye. Would he keep his contract with me? An easy matter if what Old Master said was true. But I feared that the old gentleman would weaken when the time came for him to be strong. And should that man be permitted to remain, I believed that he would murder me. Ought I to keep my word with a wolf? I asked myself time and again; and more than once I was on the point of breaking it, but a sense of honor held me back. Why should I feel the fetters of honor chaffing me? I looked up to meet Young Master's eyes. Ah, they, so full of soul and fire, were an inspiration to my struggling manliness. And his affection, though given under cover of dark secrecy, was the most blessed reward I could receive on earth.

In the dining room I waited, standing behind Young Master's chair, looking across at Mr. Clem—waited for the doctor but he did not come. Every sound without gave me a sickening stir, a chicken on the rear veranda, a dog trotting through the hall, the wind-stirred fox-horn tapping against a post just beyond the door. But the man did not come.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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