CHAPTER XX.
MET IT IN THE ROAD.
Long he sat there meditating over something precious as one does expecting trouble; and arising he walked rapidly to the gulch leading to his still house. But, reaching there, no moss-covered logs greeted his eye. There was a smoldering fire, with diminutive whirlpools of white ashes. He wiped his brow and upon a stone he sat down. The law had come with its torch, and for a long time his face was hard and grim. An hour must have passed, and then with an air of gentleness as one resigned to punishment, he went to a rock, the rock under which the spirit boy had dwelt, and reaching beneath it drew forth a Winchester rifle.
"I'll pump out these here brass temptations," he said, throwing out the cartridges and slowly, one by one, dropped them into the rivulet. Then, breaking the gun across the rock, he slowly started toward home.
Reaching the road, he stood looking up and down the rugged highway over which Old Jackson's carriage had bumped and rattled, over which long before the days of the railroad dry-goods and hardware had been transported from Philadelphia to Nashville. He did not stand there long alone. From the bushes came a loud command—"Throw up your hands"—and the government's guns were pointed at his breast. He obeyed and three men came forward to search him, and just then came the roar of Peters. "Why didn't you shoot the scoundrel!" Past the men he rushed with a knife, and Old Jasper, leaping in the air, struck him in the face with his iron fist and he lay senseless and bleeding on the ground.
One of the deputies threw up his gun to shoot, but the officer in command seized the weapon and wrested it from his hands.
"You wolf, would you shoot a brave old man? He respects the law more than you—and a hundred per cent. more than this villain. I wish he had broken his neck. Here, Nick," he added, speaking to his other attendant, "go up the hill to where Pagett has the wagon, bring it here and take this half-dead hulk to his home. Then drive over to Starbuck's, and I will be there with the prisoner. You go with me," he continued, speaking to the deputy whom he had disarmed. "Here, take your gun and remember that Uncle Sam isn't a murderer. Bring the hand-cuffs."
Old Starbuck's face broke into many a seam and then grew tight. "Mister," he pleaded, "as an old soldier let me beg of you not to put them criminal things on me. If you must, wait till we drive away from the house. My wife mustn't see them. Let me tell you suthin'. Down the hill yander under a tree there's a grave an' in it the most precious dust human flesh ever withered into. Drag me there an' I will put my hand on that grave an' sw'ar that I won't attempt to git away."
"Nick," said the commandant, "take the hand-cuffs along and throw them under the wagon seat. We won't need them."
"I thank you, sir," replied Jasper. "Now we will go to the house, an' what I say to that po' woman down there you must stand to. This way, please."
Margaret was hanging out clothes when into the yard the two officers came, Jasper walking between them. Upon the ground she dropped a sheet and came running toward them.
"There now, dear," said Jasper, "don't be skeered. These men only want me to go down to Nashville with them to give testimony at a investigation. I ain't a prisoner—don't you see I ain't got no hand-cuffs on? Gentlemen, come in an' we'll have a bite to eat ag'in the wagon comes. Don't put yo'se'f to no trouble, Margaret. 'Most anythin' will do."
"Oh," she began to moan, wringing her hands, "they air goin' to hang you. It's all Lije Peters' work, an' you ought to have killed him, for the Lord knows he's give you plenty cause. Where is the scoundrel?"
"Who, Lije? Why, he went over home; don't think he's a goin' down with us—we don't need him. Now, jest set us out some of them cold snap beans an' a hunk of co'n bread, fur the wagon will be here putty soon."
"Jasper," she said, blocking the way into the house, "your air deceivin' of me."
He laughed and replied: "But even that wouldn't be half as bad as for folks to go away an' tell it about that you wouldn't give a couple of strangers nuthin' to eat."
"That's true," she admitted, leading the way into the house. "I'll fry a couple of chickens."
"Madam," said the commanding officer, "we are much obliged, but we'll not have time."
"Yes, you will," she insisted. "I'm not goin' to have you go down there among all them gover'ment folks a tellin' that I didn't know how to treat anybody in my house. You air jest achin' fur that opportunity, but I'll see that you don't git it. Now you set down here an' wait."
"You may riprisent the law," said Jasper to the officers, "but she stands for suthin' that's higher than all law—woman, an' I reckon you'll have to knock under."
And they did, waiting patiently for Margaret as she bestirred herself in the kitchen; and when they went in and viewed the neatness of the meal, they thanked her and fell to with the appetite of soldiers. They had eaten and were thanking her when they heard the wagon rumbling down the hill. Margaret began to whimper, but the old man laughed at her; and when the two men respectfully turned away to give the prisoner and his wife a word together, he said to her:
"For a long time, as you know, this thing has been a hangin' over me, like a cloud ready to shoot out its lightenin', an' I am thankful that it's about over with. You stay here an' be brave, an' I'll be back all right. Send word by somebody to Old Miz Barker, an' she'll be tickled to come an' stay with you an' talk till she makes you feel that they air goin' to hang me."
"If you was a goin' to be hung, Jasper, you'd fret me with it. I don't believe there's harm in these here men. They didn't hand-cuff you, that's a fact. An' jest see how they eat! I ain't afeared of no man that eats well at my table. So, now you go on an' do the best you kin, an' don't worry about me."
He put his arms about her and kissed her on the forehead, and even when it was announced that the wagon was waiting, she did not waver, but bravely stood to her determination.
The wagon drove off and Margaret lingered in the door, gazing; but Jasper did not look back, and so, over the hill he passed from her sight, as all things else had passed, for in the blindness of her tears it was as if dark night had fallen. She turned about and in her ears his words rang, and again strong-set to be brave, the misty night was winked away. Hearing the hum of the old negro's tuneful spirit, she called him and he came to the door.
"Kintchin, they have taken Jasper."
"Yas'm, an' da've tuck Lije Peters, too."
"Why, Jasper said he wasn't goin'."
"He ain't—he's gone. I was a hidin' in de bushes an' I seed Peters wid his knife, an' I seed er man way up an' den er man way down—wid blood spurtin' up. An' da tuck him home in er wagin; an' de folks dat wan't right well 'quainted wid him befo' ain't gwine know him now, fur he ain't got no mo' count'nence den er stewed punkin. I neber seed sich er lick in my life."
"Oh, I'm glad," she cried, clapping her hands.
"Yas'm, an' I wallered dar like er hot hog in wet leaves, tickled mighty nigh ter death; an' den I run off caze da mout want me ter go ez er witness—an' mo'n dat, da might want ter sen' me ter de pennytenchy caze I grind de co'n."
The last word alarmed her. "Do you think they will send him there? Do you?"
"Oh, no'm, I doan think dat. He'll git out all right caze he's er white man while I's er nigger, an' nuthin' tickel de white folks mo' den ter send er nigger ter de pen."
"Well, I want you to go over an' tell Old Miz Barker to come an' stay with me; an' you better put Laz or Mose on a hoss an' let him go as near as he kin an' lissun for news."
"Oh, dem two boys gwine git all de news da wants, ma'm. Er man dat wuz over ter de Peter's house say da gwine take 'em erlong as witnesses, an' dat's whut skeered me. I's mighty glad ter see you ain't takin' on no wus den you is. I wuz erfeared dat you gwine ter holler like er devil-skeered lady at er camp-meetin'."
"Kintchin, I have put my faith in the Lord."
"Yas'm, dat's whut I done—'bout ha'f my faif in de Lord an' tuther ha'f in my laigs. An' now I gwine pitch in ter work like puttin' out wild fire. Yas'm, I is. Dat's de way I gwine 'spress my sympathy."