It was intensely dark, being just about half an hour before dawn, and the scent of morning was in the air. It seemed to Caleb, as he glanced out, that the darkness had a softly dense effect, almost as if it actually had a substance; he could not see ten yards from the threshold and the silence was ominous. He shut the door and locked it and drew down the shade over the kitchen window; afterwards he remembered this and wondered if it were some impulse of secretiveness that prompted a movement that he had not considered.
Meanwhile Juniper had fallen together in a miserable huddled heap by the stove. His head was buried in his arms and he was sobbing in terror, long-drawn shivering sobs that seemed to tear his very heart out. Trench stood looking at him, knowing fully what suspicions were against the black, and the terrible threats that had filled the town, seething as it was with excitement and a natural hatred of the race. That Juniper had plotted Yarnall’s death was an absurdity to Trench’s mind; that he might have been the tool of another was barely possible. On the other hand, his chances of justice from the mob were too small to be considered. His very presence under any man’s roof was a danger as poignant as pestilence. This last thought, however, had no weight with Caleb Trench. The stray dog guarded his hearth, the nameless child lay asleep in the next room, and now the hunted negro cowered before him. It was characteristic of the man that the personal side of it, the interpretation that might be put upon his conduct, never entered his calculations. Instead, he looked long and sternly at the negro.
“Juniper,� he said, “you were the only person seen in the window of the court-house before the assassination of Mr. Yarnall. Were you alone there?�
Juniper cowered lower in his seat. “Fo’ de Lawd, Marse Trench, I can’t tell you!� he sobbed.
“Who was in the room with you?� asked Trench sharply.
“I can’t tell!� the negro whimpered; “I don’ know.�
“Yes, you do,� said Caleb, “and you will be forced to tell it in court. Probably, before you go to court, if the people catch you,� he added cold-bloodedly.
Juniper fell on his knees; it seemed as if his face had turned lead color instead of brown, and his teeth chattered. “Dey’s gwine ter lynch me!� he sobbed, “an’ fo’ de Lawd, massa, I ain’t done it!�
Caleb looked at him unmoved. “If you know who did it, and do not tell, you are what they call in law an accessory after the fact, and you can be punished.�
Juniper shook from head to foot. “Marse Caleb,� he said, with sudden solemnity, “de Lawd made us both, de white an’ de black, I ain’t gwine ter b’lieb dat He’ll ferget me bekase I’se black! I ain’t murdered no one.�