The Valiants of Virginia Part 20

The old man smiled widely. "Et's jes' er li'l snack er broth," he said.

"Reck'n et'll kinder float eroun' de yuddah things. Daph ain' got no use fo' _tea_. She say she boun' ter mek yo' fit fo' ernuddah ra.s.sle wid dem moc'sins. Dis' yeah pot's dat apple-b.u.t.tah whut Miss Mattie Sue sen' yo'

by Rickey Snyder."

Valiant sniffed with satisfaction. "I'm getting so confoundedly spoiled," he said, "that I'm tempted to stay sick and do nothing but eat. By the way, Uncle Jefferson, where did Rickey come from? Does she belong here?"

"No, suh. She come f'om h.e.l.l's-Half-Acre."

"What's that?"

"Dat's dat ornery pa.s.sle o' folks yondah on de Dome," explained Uncle Jefferson. "Dey's been dah long's Ah kin recommembah--jes' er ramshackle lot o' s.h.i.+f'less po'-white trash whut git erlong anyways 't all. Ain'

n.o.body boddahs erbout dem 'less'n et's er guv'ment agint, fo' dey makes dey own whisky, en dey drinks et, too."

"That's interesting," said Valiant. "So Rickey belonged there?"

"Yas, suh; nebbah'd a-come down heah 'cep'n fo' Miss s.h.i.+rley. She de one whut fotch de li'l gal outen dat place, en put huh wid Miss Mattie Sue, three yeah ergo."

A sudden color came into John Valiant's cheeks. "Tell me about it." His voice vibrated eagerly.

"Well, suh," continued Uncle Jefferson, "dey was one o' dem low-down h.e.l.l's-Half-Acrers, name' Greef King, whut call hese'f de mayah ob de Dome, en he went on de ram_page_ one day, en took ahtah his wife. She was er po' sickly 'ooman, wid er li'l gal five yeah ol' by er fus'

husban'. He done beat huh heap o' times befo', but _dis_ time he boun'

ter finish huh. Ah reck'n he was too drunk fo' dat, en she got erway en run down heah. Et was wintah time en dah's snow on de groun'. Dah's er road f'om de Dome dat hits de Red Road clost' ter Rosewood--dat ar's de Dandridge place--en she come dah. Reck'n she wuz er pitiful-lookin'

obstacle. 'Peahs lak she done put de li'l gal up in de cabin lof' en hid de laddah, en she mos' crazy fo' feah Greef git huh. She lef' he huntin' fo' de young 'un when she run erway. Dey was on'y Mis' Judith en Miss s.h.i.+rley en de gal Em'line at Rosewood, 'case Ranston de butlah en de yuddahs gone ter disstracted meetin' down ter de Cullud Mefodis'

Chu'ch. Well, suh, dey wa'nt no time ter sen' fo' men. Whut yo' reck'n Miss s.h.i.+rley do? She ain' afeahd o' nuffin on dis yerf, en she on'y sebenteen yeah ol' den, too. She don' tell Mis' Judith--no, _suh!_ She run out ter de stable en saddle huh hoss, en she gallop up dat road ter h.e.l.l's-Half-Acre lak er shot outen er shovel."

Valiant brought his hands together sharply. "Yes, yes," he said. "And then?"

"When she come ter Greef King's cabin, he done foun' de laddah, en one er he foots was on de rung. He had er ax in he han'. De po' li'l gal was peepin' down thoo' de cracks o' de flo', en prayin' de bestes' she know how. She say arterwuhds dat she reck'n de Good Lawd sen' er angel, fo'

Miss s.h.i.+rley were all in white--she didn' stop ter change huh close. She didn' say nuffin, Miss s.h.i.+rley didn'. She on'y lay huh han' on Greef King's ahm, en he look at huh face, en he drop he ax en go. Den she clumb de laddah en fotch de chile down in huh ahms en take huh on de hoss en come back. Dat de way et happen, suh."

"And Rickey was that little child!"

"Yas, suh, she sho' was. In de mawnin' er posse done ride up ter h.e.l.l's-Half-Acre en take Greef King in. De majah he argyfy de case fo'

de State, en when he done git thoo', dey mos' put de tow eroun' King's nek in de co'ot room. He done got th'ee yeah, en et mos' broke de majah's ha'at dat dey couldn' give him no mo'. He wuz cert'n'y er bad aig, dat Greef wuz. Dey say he done sw'ah he gwineter do up de majah when he git out. De po' 'ooman she stay sick dah at Rosewood all wintah, but she git no bettah moughty fas', en in de spring she up en die. Den Miss s.h.i.+rley she put li'l Rickey at Miss Mattie Sue's, en she pay fo'

huh keep eber sence outer huh own money. Dat whut she done, suh."

Such was the story which Uncle Jefferson told, standing in the doorway.

When his shuffling step had retreated, Valiant went to the table and picked up a slim tooled volume that lay there. It was the _Lucile_ he had found in the hall the night of his arrival. He opened it to a page where, pressed and wrinkled but still retaining its bright red pigment, lay what had been a rose.

He stood looking at it abstractedly, his nostrils widening to its crushed spicy scent, then closed it and slipped it into his pocket.

CHAPTER XXIV

IN DEVIL-JOHN'S DAY

He was still sitting motionless when there came a knock at the door and it opened to admit the gruff voice of Doctor Southall. A big form was close behind him.

"h.e.l.lo. Up, I see. I took the liberty of bringing Major Bristow."

The master of Damory Court came forward--limping the least trifle--and shook hands.

"Glad to know you, sah," said the major. "Allow me to congratulate you; it's not every one who gets bitten by one of those infernal moccasins that lives to talk about it. You must be a pet of Providence, or else you have a cast-iron const.i.tution, sah."

Valiant waved his hand toward the man of medicine, who said, "I reckon Miss s.h.i.+rley was the Providence in the case. She had sense enough to send for me quick and speed did it."

"Well, sah," the major said, "I reckon under the circ.u.mstances, your first impressions of the section aren't anything for us to brag about."

"I'm delighted; it's hard for me to tell how much."

"Wait till you know the fool place," growled the doctor testily. "You'll change your tune."

The major smiled genially. "Don't be taken in by the doctor's pessimism.

You'd have to get a yoke of three-year oxen to drag him out of this state."

"It would take as many for me." Valiant laughed a little. "You who have always lived here, can scarcely understand what I am feeling, I imagine.

You see, I never knew till quite recently--my childhood was largely spent abroad, and I have no near relatives--that my father was a Virginian and that my ancestors always lived here. To discover this all at once and to come to this house, with their portraits on the walls and their names on the t.i.tle-pages of these books!" He made a gesture toward the gla.s.s shelves. "Why, there's a room up-stairs with the very toys they played with when they were children! To learn that I belong to it all; that I myself am the last link in such a chain!"

"The ancestral instinct," said the doctor. "I'm glad to see that it means something still, in these rotten days."

"Of course," John Valiant continued, "every one knows that he has ancestors. But I'm beginning to see that what you call the ancestral instinct needs a locality and a place. In a way it seems to me that an old estate like this has a soul too--a sort of clan or family soul that reacts on the descendant."

"Rather a j.a.panesy idea, isn't it?" observed the major. "But I know what you mean. Maybe that's why old Virginian families hang on to their land in spite of h.e.l.l and high-water. They count their forebears real live people, quite capable of turning over in their graves."

"Mine are beginning to seem very real to me. Though I don't even know their Christian names yet, I can judge them by their handiwork. The men who built Damory Court had a sense of beauty and of art."

"And their share of deviltry, too," put in the doctor.

"I suppose so," admitted his host. "At this distance I can bear even that. But good or bad, I'm deeply thankful that they chose Virginia.

Since I've been laid up, I've been browsing in the library here--"

"A bit out of date now, I reckon," said the major, "but it used to pa.s.s muster. Your grandfather was something of a book-worm. He wrote a history of the family, didn't he?"

"Yes. I've found it. _The Valiants of Virginia._ I'm reading the Revolutionary chapters now. It never seemed real before--it's been only a slice of impersonal and rather dull history. But the book has made it come alive. I'm having the thrill of the globe-trotter the first time he sees the Tower of London or the field of Waterloo. I see more than that stubble-field out yonder; I see a big wooden stockade with soldiers in ragged buff and blue guarding it."

The major nodded, "Ah, yes," he said. "The Continental prison-camp."

"And just over the rise there I can see an old court-house, and the Virginia a.s.sembly boiling under the golden tongue-las.h.i.+ng of lean raw-boned Patrick Henry. I see a messenger gallop up and see the members scramble to their saddles--and then, Tarleton and his red-coats streaming up, too late."

"Well," commented the doctor deliberately, "all I have to say is, don't materialize too much to Mrs. Poly Gifford when you meet her. She'll have you lecturing to the Ladies' Church Guild before you know it. She's sailed herself out here already, I understand."

"She called the second day: my first visitor. I've subscribed to the Guild."

The doctor chuckled. "Blame curiosity! That woman's housemaid-silly. She can spin more street yarn than any ten in the county. Miss Mattie Sue's been here, too, she told me. Ah, yes,"--looking quizzically at the tray--"I recognize the apple-b.u.t.ter. A pot just like that goes to the White House every Christmas there's a Democrat there. She reminds me of a little drab-gray wren in horn-rimmed spectacles."

"She's perfectly dear!" said Valiant, "from her hoops to the calycanthus bud tied in the corner of her handkerchief. She must be very old. She told me she remembered seeing Jefferson at Monticello."