"George Washington's" Last Duel - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
"George Was.h.i.+ngton's" Last Duel.
by Thomas Nelson Page.
I.
Of all the places in the county "The Towers" was the favorite with the young people. There even before Margaret was installed the Major kept open house with his major domo and factotum "George Was.h.i.+ngton"; and when Margaret came from school, of course it was popular. Only one cla.s.s of persons was excluded.
There were few people in the county who did not know of the Major's antipathy to "old women," as he called them. Years no more entered into his definition of this cla.s.s than celibacy did into his idea of an "old bachelor." The state of single blessedness continued in the female s.e.x beyond the bloom of youth was in his eyes the sole basis of this unpardonable condition. He made certain concessions to the few individuals among his neighbors who had remained in the state of spinsterhood, because, as he declared, neighborliness was a greater virtue than consistency; but he drew the line at these few, and it was his boast that no old woman had ever been able to get into his Eden.
"One of them," he used to say, "would close paradise just as readily now as Eve did six thousand years ago." Thus, although as Margaret grew up she had any other friends she desired to visit her as often as she chose, her wish being the supreme law at Rock Towers, she had never even thought of inviting one of the cla.s.s against whom her uncle's ruddy face was so steadfastly set. The first time it ever occurred to her to invite any one among the proscribed was when she asked Rose Endicott to pay her a visit. Rose, she knew, was living with her old aunt, Miss Jemima Bridges, whom she had once met in R-----, and she had some apprehension that in Miss Jemima's opinion, the condition of the South was so much like that of the Sandwich Islands that the old lady would not permit Rose to come without her personal escort. Accordingly, one evening after tea, when the Major was in a particularly gracious humor, and had told her several of his oldest and best stories, Margaret fell upon him unawares, and before he had recovered from the shock of the encounter, had captured his consent. Then, in order to secure the leverage of a dispatched invitation, she had immediately written Rose, asking her and her aunt to come and spend a month or two with her, and had without delay handed it to George Was.h.i.+ngton to deliver to Lazarus to give Luke to carry to the post-office. The next evening, therefore, when the Major, after twenty-four hours of serious apprehension, reopened the matter with a fixed determination to coax or buy her out of the notion, because, as he used to say, "women can't be _reasoned_ out of a thing, sir, not having been reasoned in," Margaret was able to meet him with the announcement that it was "too late," as the letter had already been mailed.
Seated in one of the high-backed arm-chairs, with one white hand shading her laughing eyes from the light, and with her evening dress daintily spread out about her, Margaret was amused at the look of desperation on the old gentleman's ruddy face. He squared his round body before the fire, braced himself with his plump legs well apart, as if he were preparing to sustain the shock of a blow, and taking a deep inspiration, gave a loud and prolonged "Whew!"
This was too much for her.
Margaret rose, and, going up to him, took his arm and looked into his face cajolingly.
"Uncle, I was bound to have Rose, and Miss Jemima would not have let her come alone."
The tone was the low, almost plaintive key, the effectiveness of which Margaret knew so well.
"'Not let her!'" The Major faced her quickly. "Margaret, she is one of those _strong-minded_ women!"
Margaret nodded brightly.
"I bet my horse she wears iron-gray curls, caught on the side of her head with tucking combs!"
"She does," declared Margaret, her eyes dancing.
"And has a long nose--red at the end."
"Uncle, you have seen her. I _know_ you have seen her," a.s.serted Margaret, laughing up at him. "You have her very picture."
The Major groaned, and vowed that he would never survive it, and that Margaret would go down to history as the slayer of her uncle.
"I have selected my place in the graveyard," he said, with a mournful shake of the head. "Put me close to the fence behind the raspberry thicket, where I shall be secure. Tell her there are snakes there."
"But, uncle, she is as good as gold," declared Margaret; "she is always doing good,--I believe she thinks it her mission to save the world."
The Major burst out, "That's part of this modern devilment of subst.i.tuting humanitarianism for Christianity. Next thing they'll be wanting to abolish h.e.l.l!"
The Major was so impressed with his peril that when Jeff, who had galloped over "for a little while," entered, announced with great ceremony by George Was.h.i.+ngton, he poured out all his apprehensions into his sympathetic ear, and it was only when he began to rally Jeff on the chance of his becoming a victim to Miss Endicott's charms, that Margaret interfered so far as to say, that Rose had any number of lovers, and one of them was "an awfully nice fellow, handsome and rich and all that."
She wished "some one" would invite him down to pay a visit in the neighborhood, for she was "afraid Rose would find it dreadfully dull in the country." The Major announced that he would himself make love to her; but both Margaret and Jeff declared that Providence manifestly intended him for Miss Jemima. He then suggested that Miss Endicott's friend be invited to come with her, but Margaret did not think that would do.
"What is the name of this Paragon?" inquired Jeff.
Margaret gave his name. "Mr. Lawrence--Pickering Lawrence."
"Why, I know him, 'Pick Lawrence.' We were college-mates, cla.s.s-mates.
He used to be in love with somebody up at his home then; but I never identified her with your friend. We were great cronies at the University. He was going to be a lawyer; but I believe somebody died and he came into a fortune." This history did not appear to surprise Margaret as much as might have been expected, and she said nothing more about him.
About a week later Jeff took occasion to ride over to tea, and announced that his friend Mr. Lawrence had promised to run down and spend a few weeks with him. Margaret looked so pleased and dwelt so much on the alleged charms of the expected guest that Jeff, with a pang of jealousy, suddenly a.s.serted that he "didn't think so much of Lawrence," that he was one of those fellows who always pretended to be very much in love with somebody, and was "always changing his clothes."
"That's what girls like," said Margaret, decisively; and this was all the thanks Jeff received.
II.
There was immense excitement at the Towers next day when the visitors were expected. The Major took twice his usual period to dress; George Was.h.i.+ngton with a view to steadying his nerves braced them so tight that he had great difficulty in maintaining his equipoise, and even Margaret herself was in a flutter quite unusual to one so self-possessed as she generally was. When, however, the carriage drove up to the door, the Major, with Margaret a little in advance, met the visitors at the steps in all the glory of new blue broadcloth and flowered velvet. Sir Charles Grandison could not have been more elegant, nor Sir Roger more gracious.
Behind him yet grander stood George--George Was.h.i.+ngton--his master's fac-simile in ebony down to the bandanna handkerchief and the trick of waving the right hand in a flowing curve. It was perhaps this spectacle which saved the Major, for Miss Jemima was so overwhelmed by George Was.h.i.+ngton's portentous dignity that she exhibited sufficient humility to place the Major immediately at his ease, and from this time Miss Jemima was at a disadvantage, and the Major felt that he was master of the situation.
The old lady had never been in the South before except for a few days on the occasion when Margaret had met her and Rose Endicott at the hotel in R----, and she had then seen just enough to excite her inquisitiveness.
Her natural curiosity was quite amazing. She was desperately bent on acquiring information, and whatever she heard she set down in a journal, so as soon as she became sufficiently acquainted with the Major she began to ply him with questions. Her seat at table was at the Major's right, and the questions which she put to him proved so embarra.s.sing, that the old gentleman declared to Margaret that if that old woman knew as much as she wanted to know she would with her wisdom eclipse Solomon and destroy the value of the Scriptures. He finally hit upon an expedient. He either traversed every proposition she suggested, or else answered every inquiry with a statement which was simply astounding.
She had therefore not been at the Towers a week before she was in the possession of facts furnished by the Major which might have staggered credulity itself.
One of the many entries in her journal was to the effect that, according to Major B----, it was the custom on many plantations to shoot a slave every year, on the ground that such a sacrifice was generally salutary; that it was an expiation of past derelictions and a deterrent from repet.i.tion. And she added this memorandum:
"The most extraordinary and revolting part of it all is that this barbarous custom, which might well have been supposed confined to Dahomey, is justified by such men as Major B---- as a pious act." She inserted this query,
"Can it be true?"
If she did not wholly believe the Major, she did not altogether disbelieve him. She at least was firmly convinced that it was quite possible. She determined to inquire privately of George Was.h.i.+ngton.
She might have inquired of one of the numerous maids, whose useless presence embarra.s.sed her; but the Major foreseeing that she might pursue her investigation in other directions, had informed her that the rite was guarded with the greatest care, and that it would be as much as any one's life were worth to divulge it. Miss Jemima, therefore, was too loyal to expose one of her own s.e.x to such danger; so she was compelled to consult George Was.h.i.+ngton, whom she believed clever enough to take care of himself.
She accordingly watched several days for an opportunity to see him alone, but without success. In fact, though she was unaware of it, George Was.h.i.+ngton had conceived for her a most violent dislike, and carefully avoided her. He had observed with growing suspicion Miss Jemima's investigation of matters relating to the estate, and her persistent pursuit of knowledge at the table had confirmed him in his idea that she contemplated the capture of his master and himself.
Like his master, he had a natural antipathy to "old women," and as the Major's threat for years had varied between "setting him free next morning" and giving him "a mistress to make him walk straight," George Was.h.i.+ngton felt that prudence demanded some vigilance on his part.
One day, under cover of the hilarity incident to the presence at dinner of Jeff and of his guest, Mr. Lawrence, Miss Jemima had pushed her inquisition even further than usual. George Was.h.i.+ngton watched her with growing suspicion, his head thrown back and his eyes half closed, and so, when, just before dinner was over, he went into the hall to see about the fire, he, after his habit, took occasion to express his opinion of affairs to the sundry members of the family who looked down at him from their dim gilt frames on the wall.
"I ain't pleased wid de way things is gwine on heah at all," he declared, poking the fire viciously and addressing his remark more particularly to an old gentlemen who in ruffles and red velvet sat with crossed legs in a high-backed chair just over the piano. "Heah me an'
Ma.r.s.e Nat an' Miss Margaret been gittin' long all dese years easy an'
peaceable, an' Ma.r.s.e Jeff been comin' over sociable all de time, an'
d' ain' been no trouble nor nuttin' till now dat ole ooman what ax mo'
questions 'n a thousan' folks kin answer got to come heah and set up to Ma.r.s.e Nat, an' talk to him so he cyarn hardly eat." He rose from his knees at the hearth, and looking the old gentleman over the piano squarely in the face, a.s.serted, "She got her mine sot on bein' my mistis, dat's what 'tis!" This relieved him so that he returned to his occupation of "chunking" the fire, adding, "When women sets de mines on a thing, you jes' well gin up!"
So intent was he on relieving himself of the burden on his mind that he did not hear the door softly open, and did not know any one had entered until an enthusiastic voice behind him exclaimed:
"Oh! what a profound observation!" George Was.h.i.+ngton started in much confusion; for it was Miss Jemima, who had stolen away from the table to intercept him at his task of "fixing the fires." She had, however, heard only his concluding sentence, and she now advanced with a beaming smile intended to conciliate the old butler. George Was.h.i.+ngton gave the hearth a final and hasty sweep, and was retiring in a long detour around Miss Jemima when she accosted him.
"Uncle George."
"Marm." He stopped and half turned.
"What a charming old place you have here!"