“Well, if he thinks he could scare me——”
“I don’t see how he could scare you. I would not let him scare me,” said Major Welch, dryly.
“You don’t know ’em, Colonel,” said Still. “You don’t know what we Union men have had to go through. They won’t let us buy land, and they won’t let us sell it. They hate you because you come from the North, and they hate me because I don’ hate you. I tell you all the truth, Colonel, and you don’t believe it—but you don’t know what we go through down here. We’ve got to stand together. You’ll see.” The man’s voice was so earnest, and his face so sincere that Major Welch could not help being impressed.
“Well, I’ll show him and everyone else pretty quickly that that is not the way to come at me,” said Major Welch, gravely. “When I get ready to buy, I’ll buy where I please, and irrespective of anyone else’s views except the seller’s.” And he walked up to the door, without seeing the look on Still’s face.
The only occupants of the clerk’s office were two men; one was an old man, evidently the clerk, with a bushy beard and keen eyes gleaming through a pair of silver spectacles. The other was a young man and a very handsome one, with a broad brow, a strongly chiselled chin, and a very grave and somewhat melancholy face. He was seated in a chair directly facing the door, examining a bundle of old chancery papers which were spread out on his knee and on a chair beside him, and as the visitors entered the door he glanced up. Major Welch was struck by his fine eyes, and the changed look that suddenly came into them. Still gave his arm a convulsive clutch, and Major Welch knew by instinct that this was the man of whom Still had just spoken.
If Jacquelin Gray was really the sort of man Still had described him to be, and held the opinions Still had attributed to him, he played the hypocrite very well, for he not only bowed to Major Welch very civilly, if distantly, but to do so even rose from his seat at some little inconvenience to himself, as he had to gather up the papers spread on his knee. It is true that he took not the least notice of Still, who included him as well as the clerk in his greeting, the only evidence he gave of being aware of the presence of his former manager, being contained in a certain quiver of the nostrils, as Still passed him.
Major Welch was introduced by Still to the clerk, and stated his errand, wondering at the change in his companion’s voice.
“He’s afraid of that young man,” he thought to himself, and he stiffened a little as the idea occurred to him; and at the first opportunity he glanced again at Jacquelin, who was once more busy with his bundle of papers, in which be appeared completely absorbed. Still was following the clerk, who, with his spectacles on the tip of his long nose, was looking into the files of his deed-books; but Major Welch saw that Still was not attending to him; his eyes were turned and were fastened on the young lawyer, quite on the other side of the room. As the Major looked he was astonished to see Still start and put out his hand as though to support himself. Following Still’s gaze he glanced across at Jacquelin. He had taken several long, narrow slips of paper out of the bundle, and was at the instant examining them curiously, oblivious of everything else. Major Welch looked back at Still, and he was as white as a ghost. Before he could take it in, Still muttered something and turned to the door. As he walked out he tottered so that Major Welch, thinking he was ill, followed him.
Outside, the air revived Still somewhat, and a drink of whiskey which he got at the tavern bar, and told the bar-keeper to make “stiff,” set him up a good deal. He had been feeling badly for some time, he said; thought he was a little bilious.
Just as they came out of the bar, they saw young Gray cross the court-green and go over to his office.