Red Rock: A Chronicle of Reconstruction

by Thomas Nelson Page

At this moment Jacquelin rose. His calm manner and assured voice quieted the hubbub; and the Judge looked at him and waited. As his counsel was disbarred, Jacquelin said, he should ask the Court to allow him to represent himself at this juncture, and also his brother, who was still a minor. He calmly stated the series of events that had prevented their knowing before the facts that had just then been disclosed, and which made everything clear; and he asked leave to amend their bill, or to file a new one, on the ground of after-discovered evidence. With the new light thrown on the case, he traced Still’s action step by step, and suddenly wound up with a charge that Still had arrested his brother to get him out of the way and destroy the danger of his testimony. A roar of applause burst from the white men present, in whom a ray of hope began to shine once more. Jacquelin sat down.

Of all the people in the court-room the Judge was the most calm. He was as motionless as a sphinx. As Jacquelin took his seat there was a brief pause of deathly stillness. The Judge looked at Leech and waited. The latter caught the signal and his face lit up. He put his hand on the bar, and leant forward preparatory to rising to his feet. Before he could make another motion Major Welch rose. Every eye was turned on him. Old Mr. Bagby gazed up at him, his lips slightly parted, his eyes filled with wonderment. Leech, with his hand resting on the bar and his body bent forward, waited. The Judge turned his gaze to Major Welch. The silence became almost palpable. Major Welch’s face was pale, and the lines, as seen in the dim light, appeared to have deepened in it. His form was erect.

“If your honor please,” he began, “I am a defendant in this case, and hold as a purchaser under the other defendant a considerable part of the property sought to be recovered by the plaintiffs. I bought it honestly and paid for it, believing that it was the land of the man from whom I bought, and I still hold it. There have been a number of things since that I have not been able to understand until now. I have observed closely all that has gone on here to-day, and have heard all that has just been said. I wish to say that, as far as I am concerned—so far as relates to the part of the property formerly belonging to Mr. Jacquelin Gray and his brother now held by me—I am satisfied. It will not be necessary for the plaintiffs to take the step that has just been proposed, of filing a new bill. From certain facts within my own knowledge, and which I did not understand before, but on which, what has just taken place has thrown a full light, I am quite satisfied. And if the complainants will prepare a proper deed reconveying the land—my part of the land—to them, I will execute it without further delay, and will make such restitution as I can. I have lost what I put into it, which is a considerable part of all I possessed in the world. But”—he paused for a second—“there is one thing I have not lost, and I do not propose to lose it. I am not willing to hold another man’s property which he lost by fraud.” (For the first time he turned and faced the bar. His voice which, if firm, had been grave and low, suddenly became strong and full, with a ring in it of pride.) “I shall expect them to make a declaration of record that every transaction, so far as I at least was concerned, was free from any taint of suspicion.” He sat down, amid a deathly silence. The next moment, from all through the court-room, there was a cheer that almost took the roof off. The Judge scowled and rapped, but it was beyond him; and in spite of his efforts to restore order, the tumult went on wildly, cheer after cheer, not only for the act, but for the man.

Ruth, who all through the scene had been sitting beside her mother, holding her arm tightly, her face as white as her handkerchief, in a fit of uncontrollable emotion burst into tears and threw herself into her mother’s arms; and Mrs. Welch’s eyes were glistening and her face was lit by a glow which she did not always permit to rest there.

Old Mr. Bagby had sat half-dazed by his client’s action—wonder, dissatisfaction, and pride all contending in his countenance for mastery. Before his client was through, pride conquered, and as Major Welch took his seat the old lawyer leant forward, placed his hand on the back of Major Welch’s and closed it firmly. That was all.

As Major Welch sat down Jacquelin sprang to his feet. His face was almost as white as Major Welch’s.

“If the Court please——” he began. But it was in vain that he strove to speak. Cheers for Major Welch were ringing, and the Judge, his face livid with wrath, was rapping. Jacquelin was waving his hand to quiet the crowd. “If the Court please,” he repeated, “I wish to make a statement.”

“Sit down,” said the Judge, shouting angrily to the Sheriff to restore order. Jacquelin sat down, and the cheers began to subside.

Leech and his associates had been struck dumb with astonishment. They gazed on Still in blank dismay, and, as Jacquelin resumed his seat, Leech leaned over and spoke to Still. Still sat motionless, his face ashy, his cheeks twitching, his eyes dull. Just at that moment there was a crash outside close to the window. A restive horse had broken loose. There was a shrill neigh and the sudden trample of feet as he dashed away through the darkness. Hiram Still sank forward and rolled from his chair in a heap on the floor.

The Court adjourned for the night, and the crowd poured from the court-room.