How much or how soundly the judge slept after that stormy interview with his son, or whether there came to him any twinges of regret for all the bitter things he had said, none ever knew. He prided himself upon seldom changing his mind, when once it was made up; and so, perhaps, his temper was still at a boiling pitch when promptly at his usual hour he descended to the breakfast-room, and bade John bring in the coffee and eggs. His face was very red, and his eyes were blood-shot and watery, and his hands, which held the morning paper, trembled so, that John glanced curiously at him as he brought in the breakfast and arranged it upon the table.
“Where’s Miss Rosamond and my son? Are they not ready?” the judge asked a little irritably, for he required every one to be prompt where he was concerned.
His questions were partly answered by the appearance of Rosamond, who looked as fresh and bright as usual, as she took her seat at the table and began to pour the coffee. She had slept soundly, and did not feel the effects of last night’s excitement, except in a little tremor of fear and anxiety with regard to Everard. Whatever happened, she was not to interfere or plead for him. He had said so expressly, and she must obey, and as she looked furtively at the inflamed face opposite her, she felt for the first time in her life a great fear of the man, who, as Everard did not appear, said angrily, “Go to my son’s room and see what is keeping him; and tell him I sent you,” he added, as if that message would necessarily hasten the laggard young man.
Then Rossie dropped her spoon and sat shaking in her chair until the servant came swiftly back, with wonder and alarm upon his face, saying that his young master was not there and his bed had not been slept in.
“Not there! and his bed not slept in! What does it mean? Where is he, then?” the judge asked, in a voice that made Rossie tremble even more than the announcement that Everard was gone.
“I dunno, mass’r, where he can be. I know he’s not thar, an’ I disremember seen’ him since he went out last night after dinner. Maybe he didn’t come back.”
“Blockhead, he did come back, and he’s here now, most likely. I’ll see for myself,” said the judge, as he started for his son’s room, followed by Rossie and John, the latter of whom said:
“Very well, mass’r, you see for yourself; he gone sure, an’ left the bed as Axie fix it for him, an’ lemme see, yes, shoo nuff, his big satchel gone wid him, and his odder suit. I shouldn’t wonder if he’s gone away,” the loquacious negro continued, as he investigated the closet and room.
“You black hound,” roared the infuriated judge, “why should he run away? What had he to run from? Leave the chamber instantly, before I kick you down stairs, for giving your opinion.”
“Yes, mass’r, I’s gwine,” was John’s reply as he disappeared from the scene, leaving the judge and Rossie alone.