Chapter XV THE QUESTION OF GUILT
When Durgan reached the stone platform of the mine, Bertha came out to meet him. She had apparently been sitting alone on some rock in the lateral cutting. She was dressed for riding; her face was quite pale, and had a strength and sternness in it that alarmed him.
"I must go at once to Hilyard. I have come to—have you not heard?"
"'Tis an affair of niggers," said he; "they are always knifing one another."
"Oh, no, no! Do you not understand at all? Whom do you suppose to be guilty?"
"'Dolphus, of course."
"Mr. Durgan, for the sake of all that is true and just, and for our sakes, if you will, do not breathe such a thought to anyone. What has happened is, perhaps, what I have feared for years—what I have labored for years to prevent. May God forgive me if I have risked too much. But the worst thing that can be done—the worst for us—would be to accuse him."
"My dear Miss Bertha, you cannot possibly have anything to do with this sad affair?"
"Oh, you do not know! you do not know! Do not contradict me. Only believe me that there is more in this than you know. I fear I have done a terrible wrong in concealment, but I did it for the best. I hoped——"
"I am quite sure that 'Dolphus killed the woman."
"No! No! Alas! I am afraid I know too well who did. And I am so far yet from knowing what I ought to do that I dare not tell you more. I'm afraid that I should say too much or too little. But if you will do what I ask, I think no harm will come if I go to Hilyard without saying more than this."
"Tell me why you are going to Hilyard."
"I'm going to telegraph for our lawyer, Mr. Alden. He must come at once. I intend to say in Deer that I am going to fetch Adam's mother, who lives there; but I'm really going for the other purpose."
"I cannot endure that you should mix yourself up in this affair! I am sure that 'Dolphus did it. I caught him near the spot. He is very ill; he was raving with fever, I think. But I will not argue with you. The ride may do you good."
"Will you do what I am going to ask?"
"Tell me what it is."
She had schooled herself to rapid work and action; her thought was quite clear. "I want you to be kind enough to saddle my horse and bring him down to me. I want you to explain to my sister that I have no time to go back to the house, and to tell her that there is no woman who can come to work for us to-day. I want you to speak very gently to her, for she is so distressed; but you must not tell her that I spoke of the lawyer. And first, last, and above all, Mr. Durgan, I want you to be on your guard against an enemy. Going up to our house, and coming back, and wherever you are till I come home, be on your guard. If you will promise to do this you will be safe, and I can do my part with some composure."
Durgan looked at her, speechless with sheer astonishment. Manlike, he found the expense involved in bringing a notable lawyer a two days' journey, and into this desolate height, a greater proof that she had some substantial reason for alarm than any as yet offered him.
"Promise me," she said. She was beyond all mood of tears or impatient excitement. She was only resolute.
He went up the hill to do her bidding, and at first found himself looking to right and left in the bushes before him, as he formerly looked upon the ground for snakes.
Miss Smith came into the front room at his knock. She was tremulous and tearful. After expressing his sympathy for the shock which her housemaid's sudden death must have given, he asked her if she thought Bertha well enough to ride alone.
"It sometimes does her good to have a right down long ride, doesn't it, Mr. Durgan? I don't quite understand the way she's feeling about this dreadful thing, but I guess she'll be safe enough riding. She's promised me to go to our good friend Mrs. Moore, at Hilyard. I don't see as the ride can do her any harm."
"If you think so," he said, "I'll saddle the horse."
But Miss Smith had something else to say. "Do you think Adam did it, Mr. Durgan? It seems dreadful to think such a thing of our good Adam, but I always feel that a man who can strike a woman might do almost any mean, bad thing."
Durgan felt to the full the hopelessness of explaining to a woman so ignorant of colored folk as was Miss Smith, the kindness of Adam's discipline. He could only assure her of his present innocence.
"You don't think, Mr. Durgan, that it could have been——" Her face was very troubled.
"Yes; I suppose it was 'Dolphus," said Durgan. "I found him near the spot last night. He was delirious with fever, I think, and coughing badly. It's not safe to leave him at large. They'll give him medical attendance in jail. It's not likely he'll live to be hanged. I have sent what evidence I have against him to Hilyard; I could not do otherwise."
He said this in a tentative way, and found that Miss Smith did not share her sister's belief that 'Dolphus was not guilty. She only sighed deeply and said—
"The good Lord alone knows how to be just, Mr. Durgan; but I suppose the law comes as near as it can."
"Have you any evidence concerning his former character?"
"No; I don't know anything about his character. I guess you've done just right, Mr. Durgan. I'm asking the Lord to make known whatever ought to be made known, and to hide whatever ought to be hidden, and to bless us all. I guess that's about the best prayer I can think of. But I don't mind telling you that 'twould be a dreadful trial to me or Birdie to be obliged to give any evidence. And I can say before God that we neither of us know anything about him that could have any bearing on this matter."
"You may depend upon me; I'll keep you out of it if I can. It's only what happens constantly in a niggers' brawl."
His heart went out with more and more cordiality to the upright, tearful little lady, who, in the thick of troubles, seemed by her very life to point to God, as the church spire seems to point to heaven above the city's smoke.
When leading off the saddled horse he stopped for a moment and looked back with irresistible curiosity, thinking of the conflicting aspects of the life that centered here.
The grass of the foreground lay patterned with the graceful shadows of acacia boughs. Between them he saw the low gray house, about which the luxuriance of flowers made the only confusion. Hens were pecking and dogs basking in the neat kitchen yard; and Miss Smith, in default of a servant, was quietly sweeping the kitchen porch. The place was like a dream of home. "Surely," he said to himself, "if the angel of peace could ever seek an earthly dwelling, she might well alight here and fold her wings."
He led the horse down the trail with brows knit, and in his mind the intention of further remonstrance with Bertha; but she mounted and rode away without a moment's delay.