Red Rock: A Chronicle of Reconstruction

by Thomas Nelson Page

The day Mrs. Gray died, Dr. Cary wrote a note to Still on Jacquelin’s behalf, though without his knowledge, indicating his cousin’s wish to bury his mother beside his father, and saying that it would not be held to affect any question of ownership at issue between them.

To this Still replied that while he should be “very glad to do anything that Dr. Cary or any member of his family asked for themselves,” he would not permit any outsider to be buried on his place, especially one who had insulted him; that he did not acknowledge that any question existed as to his title; and that he was prepared to show that, if so, it was unfounded. He added that he was “going to remove the tomb-stones, cut down the trees, clear up the place, and get rid of the old grave-yard altogether.”

A part of the letter was evidently written by a lawyer.

Dr. Cary felt that he could not withhold this notification from Jacquelin. Before doing so, however, he consulted General Legaie. The little General’s eyes snapped as he read the letter. “Ah! if he were only a gentleman!” he sighed. The next moment he broke out. “I’ll lay my riding-whip across the dog’s shoulders! That’s what I’ll do.” The Doctor tried to soothe him. He would show the letter to Jacquelin, he said. The General protested. “My dear sir, if you do, there will be trouble. Young men are so rash. They have not the calm deliberation that we have.” The Doctor, recalling his conversation with Jacquelin, said he thought he could rely on his wisdom. “If he sees that letter there will be trouble,” asserted the General, “or he is not the nephew of his—ahem! not the son of his father.” However, the Doctor was firm. So he broke the matter to Jacquelin. To their surprise, Jacquelin took it very quietly; he did not say anything nor appear to mind it a great deal. The General’s countenance fell. “Young men have changed since my day,” he said, sadly.

So Mrs. Gray was buried in what had been a part of the church-yard of the old brick-church, and Jacquelin, walking with his arm around Rupert, was as quiet as Miss Thomasia.

That afternoon he excused himself from the further attendance of his friends, left his aunt and Rupert and walked out alone. He went first to the house of his neighbor, Stamper. Him Jacquelin told of his purpose. Stamper wished to accompany him; but he would not permit that. “Have you got a pistol?” asked Stamper. No, he was not armed, he said; he only wanted his friend to know, “in case anything should happen.” Then he walked away in the direction of Red Rock, leaving little Stamper leaning on the bars looking after him rather wistfully until he had disappeared.

He had not been gone long when Stamper started after him. “If he gets hold of him, I’m afeared he’ll kill him,” he muttered as he hurried along.

It was after sunset, and Hiram Still was sitting alone in the hall at Red Rock, by a table in the drawers of which he kept his papers. He never liked to sit in the dark, and had just called for a light. He was waiting for it. He was not in a good humor, for he had had something of a quarrel with Leech, and his son Wash had taken the latter’s side. The young doctor was always taking sides against him these days. They had made him write Dr. Cary that he was going to clear up the grave-yard, and he was not at all sure that it was a good thing to do; he had always heard that it was bad luck to break up a grave-yard, and now they had left him alone in the house. Even the drink of whiskey he had taken had not restored his good spirits.

Why did not the light come? He roared an oath toward the open door. “D——n the lazy niggers!”

Suddenly there was a step, or something like a step, near him—he was not sure about it, for he must have been dozing—and he looked up. His heart jumped into his throat. Before him in the hall stood, tall and gray, the “Indian-killer,” his eyes blazing like coals of fire.