COLONEL STARBOTTLE FOR THE PLAINTIFF
by Bret Harte
It had been a day of triumph for Colonel Starbottle. First, for
his personality, as it would have been difficult to separate the
Colonel's achievements from his individuality; second, for his
oratorical abilities as a sympathetic pleader; and third, for
his functions as the leading legal counsel for the Eureka Ditch
Company versus the State of California. On his strictly legal
performances in this issue I prefer not to speak; there were
those who denied them, although the jury had accepted them in
the face of the ruling of the half amused, half cynical Judge
himself. For an hour they had laughed with the Colonel, wept
with him, been stirred to personal indignation or patriotic
exaltation by his passionate and lofty periods,--what else
could they do than give him their verdict? If it was alleged
by some that the American eagle, Thomas Jefferson, and the
Resolutions of '98 had nothing whatever to do with the contest
of a ditch company over a doubtfully worded legislative
document; that wholesale abuse of the State Attorney and his
political motives had not the slightest connection with the
legal question raised--it was, nevertheless, generally
accepted that the losing party would have been only too glad
to have the Colonel on their side. And Colonel Starbottle
knew this, as, perspiring, florid, and panting, he rebuttoned
the lower buttons of his blue frock-coat, which had become
loosed in an oratorical spasm, and readjusted his old-fashioned,
spotless shirt frill above it as he strutted from the court-room
amidst the handshakings and acclamations of his friends.
And here an unprecedented thing occurred. The Colonel absolutely
declined spirituous refreshment at the neighboring Palmetto
Saloon, and declared his intention of proceeding directly to
his office in the adjoining square. Nevertheless, the Colonel
quitted the building alone, and apparently unarmed, except for
his faithful gold-headed stick, which hung as usual from his
forearm. The crowd gazed after him with undisguised admiration
of this new evidence of his pluck. It was remembered also that
a mysterious note had been handed to him at the conclusion of
his speech,--evidently a challenge from the State Attorney. It
was quite plain that the Colonel--a practiced duelist--was
hastening home to answer it.
But herein they were wrong. The note was in a female hand, and simply
requested the Colonel to accord an interview with the writer at the
Colonel's office as soon as he left the court. But it was an engagement
that the Colonel--as devoted to the fair sex as he was to the
"code"--was no less prompt in accepting. He flicked away the dust from
his spotless white trousers and varnished boots with his handkerchief,
and settled his black cravat under his Byron collar as he neared his
office. He was surprised, however, on opening the door of his private
office, to find his visitor already there; he was still more startled
to find her somewhat past middle age and plainly attired. But the
Colonel was brought up in a school of Southern politeness, already
antique in the republic, and his bow of courtesy belonged to the
epoch of his shirt frill and strapped trousers. No one could have
detected his disappointment in his manner, albeit his sentences were
short and incomplete. But the Colonel's colloquial speech was apt
to be fragmentary incoherencies of his larger oratorical utterances.
"A thousand pardons--for--er--having kept a lady waiting--er!
But--er--congratulations of friends--and--er--courtesy due to
them--er--interfered with--though perhaps only heightened--by
procrastination--the pleasure of--ha!" And the Colonel completed
his sentence with a gallant wave of his fat but white and well-kept
hand.
"Yes! I came to see you along o' that speech of yours. I was in court.
When I heard you gettin' it off on that jury, I says to myself, 'That's
the kind o' lawyer I want. A man that's flowery and convincin'! Just
the man to take up our case."
"Ah! It's a matter of business, I see," said the Colonel, inwardly
relieved, but externally careless. "And--er--may I ask the nature of the
case?"
"Well! it's a breach-o'-promise suit," said the visitor calmly.
If the Colonel had been surprised before, he was now really startled,
and with an added horror that required all his politeness to conceal.
Breach-of-promise cases were his peculiar aversion. He had always held
them to be a kind of litigation which could have been obviated by the
prompt killing of the masculine offender--in which case he would have
gladly defended the killer. But a suit for damages,--DAMAGES!--with the
reading of love-letters before a hilarious jury and court, was against
all his instincts. His chivalry was outraged; his sense of humor was
small, and in the course of his career he had lost one or two important
cases through an unexpected development of this quality in a jury.
The woman had evidently noticed his hesitation, but mistook its cause.
"It ain't me--but my darter."
The Colonel recovered his politeness. "Ah! I am relieved, my dear madam!
I could hardly conceive a man ignorant enough to--er--er--throw away
such evident good fortune--or base enough to deceive the trustfulness of
womanhood--matured and experienced only in the chivalry of our sex, ha!"
The woman smiled grimly. "Yes!--it's my darter, Zaidee Hooker--so ye
might spare some of them pretty speeches for HER--before the jury."
The Colonel winced slightly before this doubtful prospect, but
smiled. "Ha! Yes!--certainly--the jury. But--er--my dear lady, need
we go as far as that? Can not this affair be settled--er--out of
court? Could not this--er--individual--be admonished--told that he
must give satisfaction--personal satisfaction--for his dastardly
conduct--to--er--near relative--or even valued personal friend?
The--er--arrangements necessary for that purpose I myself would
undertake."
He was quite sincere; indeed, his small black eyes shone with that
fire which a pretty woman or an "affair of honor" could alone kindle.
The visitor stared vacantly at him, and said slowly, "And what good
is that goin' to do US?"
"Compel him to--er--perform his promise," said the Colonel, leaning
back in his chair.
"Ketch him doin' it!" she exclaimed scornfully. "No--that ain't wot
we're after. We must make him PAY! Damages--and nothin' short o'
THAT."
The Colonel bit his lip. "I suppose," he said gloomily, "you have
documentary evidence--written promises and protestations--er--er
love-letters, in fact?"
"No--nary a letter! Ye see, that's jest it--and that's where YOU come
in. You've got to convince that jury yourself. You've got to show what
it is--tell the whole story your own way. Lord! to a man like you that's
nothin'."
Startling as this admission might have been to any other lawyer,
Starbottle was absolutely relieved by it. The absence of any
mirth-provoking correspondence, and the appeal solely to his own
powers of persuasion, actually struck his fancy. He lightly put
aside the compliment with a wave of his white hand.
"Of course," he said confidently, "there is strongly presumptive and
corroborative evidence? Perhaps you can give me--er--a brief outline
of the affair?"
"Zaidee kin do that straight enough, I reckon," said the woman; "what
I want to know first is, kin you take the case?"
The Colonel did not hesitate; his curiosity was piqued. "I certainly
can. I have no doubt your daughter will put me in possession of
sufficient facts and details--to constitute what we call--er--a brief."
"She kin be brief enough--or long enough--for the matter of that," said
the woman, rising. The Colonel accepted this implied witticism with a
smile.
"And when may I have the pleasure of seeing her?" he asked politely.
"Well, I reckon as soon as I can trot out and call her. She's just
outside, meanderin' in the road--kinder shy, ye know, at first."
She walked to the door. The astounded Colonel nevertheless gallantly
accompanied her as she stepped out into the street and called shrilly,
"You Zaidee!"
A young girl here apparently detached herself from a tree and the
ostentatious perusal of an old election poster, and sauntered down
towards the office door. Like her mother, she was plainly dressed;
unlike her, she had a pale, rather refined face, with a demure mouth and
downcast eyes. This was all the Colonel saw as he bowed profoundly and
led the way into his office, for she accepted his salutations without
lifting her head. He helped her gallantly to a chair, on which she
seated herself sideways, somewhat ceremoniously, with her eyes following
the point of her parasol as she traced a pattern on the carpet. A second
chair offered to the mother that lady, however, declined. "I reckon to
leave you and Zaidee together to talk it out," she said; turning to her
daughter, she added, "Jest you tell him all, Zaidee," and before the
Colonel could rise again, disappeared from the room. In spite of his
professional experience, Starbottle was for a moment embarrassed. The
young girl, however, broke the silence without looking up.
"Adoniram K. Hotchkiss," she began, in a monotonous voice, as if it were
a recitation addressed to the public, "first began to take notice of me
a year ago. Arter that--off and on"--
"One moment," interrupted the astounded Colonel; "do you mean Hotchkiss
the President of the Ditch Company?" He had recognized the name of
a prominent citizen--a rigid, ascetic, taciturn, middle-aged man--a
deacon--and more than that, the head of the company he had just
defended. It seemed inconceivable.
"That's him," she continued, with eyes still fixed on the parasol and
without changing her monotonous tone--"off and on ever since. Most
of the time at the Free-Will Baptist Church--at morning service,
prayer-meetings, and such. And at home--outside--er--in the road."
"Is it this gentleman--Mr. Adoniram K. Hotchkiss--who--er--promised
marriage?" stammered the Colonel.
"Yes."
The Colonel shifted uneasily in his chair. "Most extraordinary! for--you
see--my dear young lady--this becomes--a--er--most delicate affair."
"That's what maw said," returned the young woman simply, yet with the
faintest smile playing around her demure lips and downcast cheek.
"I mean," said the Colonel, with a pained yet courteous smile, "that
this--er--gentleman--is in fact--er--one of my clients."
"That's what maw said too, and of course your knowing him will make it
all the easier for you."
A slight flush crossed the Colonel's cheek as he returned quickly and a
little stiffly, "On the contrary--er--it may make it impossible for me
to--er--act in this matter."
The girl lifted her eyes. The Colonel held his breath as the long
lashes were raised to his level. Even to an ordinary observer that
sudden revelation of her eyes seemed to transform her face with
subtle witchery. They were large, brown, and soft, yet filled with an
extraordinary penetration and prescience. They were the eyes of an
experienced woman of thirty fixed in the face of a child. What else
the Colonel saw there Heaven only knows! He felt his inmost secrets
plucked from him--his whole soul laid bare--his vanity, belligerency,
gallantry--even his mediaeval chivalry, penetrated, and yet illuminated,
in that single glance. And when the eyelids fell again, he felt that a
greater part of himself had been swallowed up in them.
"I beg your pardon," he said hurriedly. "I mean--this matter may
be arranged--er--amicably. My interest with--and as you wisely
say--my--er--knowledge of my client--er--Mr. Hotchkiss--may effect--a
compromise."
"And DAMAGES," said the young girl, readdressing her parasol, as if she
had never looked up.
The Colonel winced. "And--er--undoubtedly COMPENSATION--if you do not
press a fulfillment of the promise. Unless," he said, with an attempted
return to his former easy gallantry, which, however, the recollection
of her eyes made difficult, "it is a question of--er--the affections."
"Which?" asked his fair client softly.
"If you still love him?" explained the Colonel, actually blushing.
Zaidee again looked up; again taking the Colonel's breath away with eyes
that expressed not only the fullest perception of what he had SAID, but
of what he thought and had not said, and with an added subtle suggestion
of what he might have thought. "That's tellin'," she said, dropping her
long lashes again.
The Colonel laughed vacantly. Then feeling himself growing imbecile, he
forced an equally weak gravity. "Pardon me--I understand there are no
letters; may I know the way in which he formulated his declaration and
promises?"
"Hymn-books."
"I beg your pardon," said the mystified lawyer.
"Hymn-books--marked words in them with pencil--and passed 'em on to
me," repeated Zaidee. "Like 'love,' 'dear,' 'precious,' 'sweet,' and
'blessed,'" she added, accenting each word with a push of her parasol
on the carpet. "Sometimes a whole line outer Tate and Brady--and
Solomon's Song, you know, and sich."
"I believe," said the Colonel loftily, "that the--er--phrases of sacred
psalmody lend themselves to the language of the affections. But in
regard to the distinct promise of marriage--was there--er--no OTHER
expression?"
"Marriage Service in the prayer-book--lines and words outer that--all
marked," Zaidee replied.
The Colonel nodded naturally and approvingly. "Very good. Were others
cognizant of this? Were there any witnesses?"
"Of course not," said the girl. "Only me and him. It was generally at
church-time--or prayer-meeting. Once, in passing the plate, he slipped
one o' them peppermint lozenges with the letters stamped on it 'I love
you' for me to take."
The Colonel coughed slightly. "And you have the lozenge?"
"I ate it."
"Ah," said the Colonel. After a pause he added delicately, "But were
these attentions--er--confined to--er--sacred precincts? Did he meet
you elsewhere?"
"Useter pass our house on the road," returned the girl, dropping into
her monotonous recital, "and useter signal."
"Ah, signal?" repeated the Colonel approvingly.
"Yes! He'd say 'Keerow,' and I'd say 'Keeree.' Suthing like a bird, you
know."
Indeed, as she lifted her voice in imitation of the call, the Colonel
thought it certainly very sweet and birdlike. At least as SHE gave
it. With his remembrance of the grim deacon he had doubts as to the
melodiousness of HIS utterance. He gravely made her repeat it.
"And after that signal?" he added suggestively.
"He'd pass on."
The Colonel again coughed slightly, and tapped his desk with his
penholder.
"Were there any endearments--er--caresses--er--such as taking your
hand--er--clasping your waist?" he suggested, with a gallant yet
respectful sweep of his white hand and bowing of his head; "er--slight
pressure of your fingers in the changes of a dance--I mean," he
corrected himself, with an apologetic cough--"in the passing of the
plate?"
"No; he was not what you'd call 'fond,'" returned the girl.
"Ah! Adoniram K. Hotchkiss was not 'fond' in the ordinary acceptance of
the word," noted the Colonel, with professional gravity.
She lifted her disturbing eyes, and again absorbed his in her own. She
also said "Yes," although her eyes in their mysterious prescience of all
he was thinking disclaimed the necessity of any answer at all. He smiled
vacantly. There was a long pause. On which she slowly disengaged her
parasol from the carpet pattern, and stood up.
"I reckon that's about all," she said.
"Er--yes--but one moment," began the Colonel vaguely. He would have
liked to keep her longer, but with her strange premonition of him he
felt powerless to detain her, or explain his reason for doing so. He
instinctively knew she had told him all; his professional judgment told
him that a more hopeless case had never come to his knowledge. Yet he
was not daunted, only embarrassed. "No matter," he said. "Of course I
shall have to consult with you again."
Her eyes again answered that she expected he would, and she added
simply, "When?"
"In the course of a day or two;" he replied quickly. "I will send you
word."
She turned to go. In his eagerness to open the door for her, he upset
his chair, and with some confusion, that was actually youthful, he
almost impeded her movements in the hall, and knocked his broad-brimmed
Panama hat from his bowing hand in a final gallant sweep. Yet as her
small, trim, youthful figure, with its simple Leghorn straw hat confined
by a blue bow under her round chin, passed away before him, she looked
more like a child than ever.
The Colonel spent that afternoon in making diplomatic inquiries. He
found his youthful client was the daughter of a widow who had a small
ranch on the cross-roads, near the new Free-Will Baptist Church--the
evident theatre of this pastoral. They led a secluded life, the
girl being little known in the town, and her beauty and fascination
apparently not yet being a recognized fact. The Colonel felt a
pleasurable relief at this, and a general satisfaction he could not
account for. His few inquiries concerning Mr. Hotchkiss only confirmed
his own impressions of the alleged lover,--a serious-minded, practically
abstracted man, abstentive of youthful society, and the last man
apparently capable of levity of the affections or serious flirtation.
The Colonel was mystified, but determined of purpose, whatever that
purpose might have been.
The next day he was at his office at the same hour. He was alone--as
usual--the Colonel's office being really his private lodgings, disposed
in connecting rooms, a single apartment reserved for consultation.
He had no clerk, his papers and briefs being taken by his faithful
body-servant and ex-slave "Jim" to another firm who did his office work
since the death of Major Stryker, the Colonel's only law partner, who
fell in a duel some years previous. With a fine constancy the Colonel
still retained his partner's name on his doorplate, and, it was alleged
by the superstitious, kept a certain invincibility also through the
'manes' of that lamented and somewhat feared man.
The Colonel consulted his watch, whose heavy gold case still showed
the marks of a providential interference with a bullet destined for its
owner, and replaced it with some difficulty and shortness of breath in
his fob. At the same moment he heard a step in the passage, and the door
opened to Adoniram K. Hotchkiss. The Colonel was impressed; he had a
duelist's respect for punctuality.
The man entered with a nod and the expectant inquiring look of a busy
man. As his feet crossed that sacred threshold the Colonel became all
courtesy; he placed a chair for his visitor, and took his hat from his
half reluctant hand. He then opened a cupboard and brought out a bottle
of whiskey and two glasses.
"A--er--slight refreshment, Mr. Hotchkiss," he suggested politely.
"I never drink," replied Hotchkiss, with the severe attitude of a total
abstainer.
"Ah--er--not the finest Bourbon whiskey, selected by a Kentucky friend?
No? Pardon me! A cigar, then--the mildest Havana."
"I do not use tobacco nor alcohol in any form," repeated Hotchkiss
ascetically. "I have no foolish weaknesses."
The Colonel's moist, beady eyes swept silently over his client's sallow
face. He leaned back comfortably in his chair, and half closing his
eyes as in dreamy reminiscence, said slowly: "Your reply, Mr. Hotchkiss,
reminds me of--er--sing'lar circumstance that--er--occurred, in point of
fact--at the St. Charles Hotel, New Orleans. Pinkey Hornblower--personal
friend--invited Senator Doolittle to join him in social glass. Received,
sing'larly enough, reply similar to yours. 'Don't drink nor smoke?'
said Pinkey. 'Gad, sir, you must be mighty sweet on the ladies.' Ha!"
The Colonel paused long enough to allow the faint flush to pass from
Hotchkiss's cheek, and went on, half closing his eyes: "'I allow no man,
sir, to discuss my personal habits,' declared Doolittle, over his shirt
collar. 'Then I reckon shootin' must be one of those habits,' said
Pinkey coolly. Both men drove out on the Shell Road back of cemetery
next morning. Pinkey put bullet at twelve paces through Doolittle's
temple. Poor Doo never spoke again. Left three wives and seven children,
they say--two of 'em black."
"I got a note from you this morning," said Hotchkiss, with badly
concealed impatience. "I suppose in reference to our case. You have
taken judgment, I believe."
The Colonel, without replying, slowly filled a glass of whiskey and
water. For a moment he held it dreamily before him, as if still engaged
in gentle reminiscences called up by the act. Then tossing it off,
he wiped his lips with a large white handkerchief, and leaning back
comfortably in his chair, said, with a wave of his hand, "The interview
I requested, Mr. Hotchkiss, concerns a subject--which I may say
is--er--er--at present NOT of a public or business nature--although
LATER it might become--er--er--both. It is an affair of
some--er--delicacy."
The Colonel paused, and Mr. Hotchkiss regarded him with increased
impatience. The Colonel, however, continued, with unchanged
deliberation: "It concerns--er--er--a young lady--a beautiful,
high-souled creature, sir, who, apart from her personal
loveliness--er--er--I may say is of one of the first families of
Missouri, and--er--not remotely connected by marriage with one
of--er--er--my boyhood's dearest friends." The latter, I grieve
to say, was a pure invention of the Colonel's--an oratorical
addition to the scanty information he had obtained the previous
day. "The young lady," he continued blandly, "enjoys the further
distinction of being the object of such attention from you as
would make this interview--really--a confidential matter--er--er
among friends and--er--er--relations in present and future. I
need not say that the lady I refer to is Miss Zaidee Juno Hooker,
only daughter of Almira Ann Hooker, relict of Jefferson Brown
Hooker, formerly of Boone County, Kentucky, and latterly
of--er--Pike County, Missouri."
The sallow, ascetic hue of Mr. Hotchkiss's face had passed through
a livid and then a greenish shade, and finally settled into a
sullen red. "What's all this about?" he demanded roughly.
The least touch of belligerent fire came into Starbottle's eye, but
his bland courtesy did not change. "I believe," he said politely,
"I have made myself clear as between--er--gentlemen, though perhaps
not as clear as I should to--er--er--jury."
Mr. Hotchkiss was apparently struck with some significance in the
lawyer's reply. "I don't know," he said, in a lower and more cautious
voice, "what you mean by what you call 'my attentions' to--any one--or
how it concerns you. I have not exchanged half a dozen words with--the
person you name--have never written her a line--nor even called at her
house."
He rose with an assumption of ease, pulled down his waistcoat, buttoned
his coat, and took up his hat. The Colonel did not move.
"I believe I have already indicated my meaning in what I have called
'your attentions,'" said the Colonel blandly, "and given you my
'concern' for speaking as--er--er--mutual friend. As to YOUR statement
of your relations with Miss Hooker, I may state that it is fully
corroborated by the statement of the young lady herself in this
very office yesterday."
"Then what does this impertinent nonsense mean? Why am I summoned here?"
demanded Hotchkiss furiously.
"Because," said the Colonel deliberately, "that statement is
infamously--yes, damnably to your discredit, sir!"
Mr. Hotchkiss was here seized by one of those impotent and inconsistent
rages which occasionally betray the habitually cautious and timid man.
He caught up the Colonel's stick, which was lying on the table. At the
same moment the Colonel, without any apparent effort, grasped it by
the handle. To Mr. Hotchkiss's astonishment, the stick separated in two
pieces, leaving the handle and about two feet of narrow glittering steel
in the Colonel's hand. The man recoiled, dropping the useless fragment.
The Colonel picked it up, fitted the shining blade in it, clicked the
spring, and then rising with a face of courtesy yet of unmistakably
genuine pain, and with even a slight tremor in his voice, said
gravely,--
"Mr. Hotchkiss, I owe you a thousand apologies, sir, that--er--a weapon
should be drawn by me--even through your own inadvertence--under the
sacred protection of my roof, and upon an unarmed man. I beg your
pardon, sir, and I even withdraw the expressions which provoked
that inadvertence. Nor does this apology prevent you from holding me
responsible--personally responsible--ELSEWHERE for an indiscretion
committed in behalf of a lady--my--er--client."
"Your client? Do you mean you have taken her case? You, the counsel
for the Ditch Company?" asked Mr. Hotchkiss, in trembling indignation.
"Having won YOUR case, sir," replied the Colonel coolly,
"the--er--usages of advocacy do not prevent me from espousing the cause
of the weak and unprotected."
"We shall see, sir," said Hotchkiss, grasping the handle of the door
and backing into the passage. "There are other lawyers who"--
"Permit me to see you out," interrupted the Colonel, rising politely.
--"will be ready to resist the attacks of blackmail," continued
Hotchkiss, retreating along the passage.
"And then you will be able to repeat your remarks to me IN THE STREET,"
continued the Colonel, bowing, as he persisted in following his visitor
to the door.
But here Mr. Hotchkiss quickly slammed it behind him, and hurried
away. The Colonel returned to his office, and sitting down, took a
sheet of letter-paper bearing the inscription "Starbottle and Stryker,
Attorneys and Counselors," and wrote the following lines:--
HOOKER versus HOTCHKISS.
DEAR MADAM,--Having had a visit from the defendant in above, we
should be pleased to have an interview with you at two P. M.
to-morrow.
Your obedient servants,
STARBOTTLE AND STRYKER.
This he sealed and dispatched by his trusted servant Jim, and then
devoted a few moments to reflection. It was the custom of the Colonel
to act first, and justify the action by reason afterwards.
He knew that Hotchkiss would at once lay the matter before rival
counsel. He knew that they would advise him that Miss Hooker had "no
case"--that she would be nonsuited on her own evidence, and he ought
not to compromise, but be ready to stand trial. He believed, however,
that Hotchkiss feared such exposure, and although his own instincts
had been at first against this remedy, he was now instinctively in
favor of it. He remembered his own power with a jury; his vanity
and his chivalry alike approved of this heroic method; he was bound
by no prosaic facts--he had his own theory of the case, which no
mere evidence could gainsay. In fact, Mrs. Hooker's admission that
he was to "tell the story in his own way" actually appeared to him
an inspiration and a prophecy.
Perhaps there was something else, due possibly to the lady's wonderful
eyes, of which he had thought much. Yet it was not her simplicity that
affected him solely; on the contrary, it was her apparent intelligent
reading of the character of her recreant lover--and of his own! Of all
the Colonel's previous "light" or "serious" loves, none had ever before
flattered him in that way. And it was this, combined with the respect
which he had held for their professional relations, that precluded
his having a more familiar knowledge of his client, through serious
questioning or playful gallantry. I am not sure it was not part of
the charm to have a rustic femme incomprise as a client.
Nothing could exceed the respect with which he greeted her as she
entered his office the next day. He even affected not to notice that
she had put on her best clothes, and he made no doubt appeared as when
she had first attracted the mature yet faithless attentions of Deacon
Hotchkiss at church. A white virginal muslin was belted around her slim
figure by a blue ribbon, and her Leghorn hat was drawn around her oval
cheek by a bow of the same color. She had a Southern girl's narrow feet,
encased in white stockings and kid slippers, which were crossed primly
before her as she sat in a chair, supporting her arm by her faithful
parasol planted firmly on the floor. A faint odor of southernwood
exhaled from her, and, oddly enough, stirred the Colonel with a far-off
recollection of a pine-shaded Sunday-school on a Georgia hillside, and
of his first love, aged ten, in a short starched frock. Possibly it was
the same recollection that revived something of the awkwardness he had
felt then.
He, however, smiled vaguely, and sitting down, coughed slightly, and
placed his finger-tips together. "I have had an--er--interview with
Mr. Hotchkiss, but--I--er--regret to say there seems to be no prospect
of--er--compromise."
He paused, and to his surprise her listless "company" face lit up with
an adorable smile. "Of course!--ketch him!" she said. "Was he mad when
you told him?" She put her knees comfortably together and leaned
forward for a reply.
For all that, wild horses could not have torn from the Colonel a word
about Hotchkiss's anger. "He expressed his intention of employing
counsel--and defending a suit," returned the Colonel, affably basking
in her smile.
She dragged her chair nearer his desk. "Then you'll fight him tooth and
nail?" she asked eagerly; "you'll show him up? You'll tell the whole
story your own way? You'll give him fits?--and you'll make him pay?
Sure?" she went on breathlessly.
"I--er--will," said the Colonel, almost as breathlessly.
She caught his fat white hand, which was lying on the table, between
her own and lifted it to her lips. He felt her soft young fingers even
through the lisle-thread gloves that encased them, and the warm moisture
of her lips upon his skin. He felt himself flushing--but was unable
to break the silence or change his position. The next moment she had
scuttled back with her chair to her old position.
"I--er--certainly shall do my best," stammered the Colonel, in an
attempt to recover his dignity and composure.
"That's enough! You'll do it," said she enthusiastically. "Lordy! Just
you talk for ME as ye did for HIS old Ditch Company, and you'll fetch
it--every time! Why, when you made that jury sit up the other day--when
you got that off about the Merrikan flag waving equally over the rights
of honest citizens banded together in peaceful commercial pursuits, as
well as over the fortress of official proflig--"
"Oligarchy," murmured the Colonel courteously.
--"oligarchy," repeated the girl quickly, "my breath was just took away.
I said to maw, 'Ain't he too sweet for anything!' I did, honest Injin!
And when you rolled it all off at the end--never missing a word (you
didn't need to mark 'em in a lesson-book, but had 'em all ready on your
tongue)--and walked out--Well! I didn't know you nor the Ditch Company
from Adam, but I could have just run over and kissed you there before
the whole court!"
She laughed, with her face glowing, although her strange eyes were cast
down. Alack! the Colonel's face was equally flushed, and his own beady
eyes were on his desk. To any other woman he would have voiced the banal
gallantry that he should now, himself, look forward to that reward, but
the words never reached his lips. He laughed, coughed slightly, and when
he looked up again she had fallen into the same attitude as on her first
visit, with her parasol point on the floor.
"I must ask you to--er--direct your memory to--er--another point: the
breaking off of the--er--er--er--engagement. Did he--er--give any reason
for it? Or show any cause?"
"No; he never said anything," returned the girl.
"Not in his usual way?--er--no reproaches out of the hymn-book?--or
the sacred writings?"
"No; he just QUIT."
"Er--ceased his attentions," said the Colonel gravely. "And naturally
you--er--were not conscious of any cause for his doing so."
The girl raised her wonderful eyes so suddenly and so penetratingly
without replying in any other way that the Colonel could only hurriedly
say: "I see! None, of course!"
At which she rose, the Colonel rising also. "We--shall begin proceedings
at once. I must, however, caution you to answer no questions, nor say
anything about this case to any one until you are in court."
She answered his request with another intelligent look and a nod. He
accompanied her to the door. As he took her proffered hand, he raised
the lisle-thread fingers to his lips with old-fashioned gallantry. As
if that act had condoned for his first omissions and awkwardness, he
became his old-fashioned self again, buttoned his coat, pulled out
his shirt frill, and strutted back to his desk.
A day or two later it was known throughout the town that Zaidee Hooker
had sued Adoniram Hotchkiss for breach of promise, and that the damages
were laid at five thousand dollars. As in those bucolic days the Western
press was under the secure censorship of a revolver, a cautious tone of
criticism prevailed, and any gossip was confined to personal expression,
and even then at the risk of the gossiper. Nevertheless, the situation
provoked the intensest curiosity. The Colonel was approached--until
his statement that he should consider any attempt to overcome his
professional secrecy a personal reflection withheld further advances.
The community were left to the more ostentatious information of the
defendant's counsel, Messrs. Kitcham and Bilser, that the case was
"ridiculous" and "rotten," that the plaintiff would be nonsuited, and
the fire-eating Starbottle would be taught a lesson that he could not
"bully" the law, and there were some dark hints of a conspiracy. It was
even hinted that the "case" was the revengeful and preposterous outcome
of the refusal of Hotchkiss to pay Starbottle an extravagant fee for his
late services to the Ditch Company. It is unnecessary to say that these
words were not reported to the Colonel. It was, however, an unfortunate
circumstance for the calmer, ethical consideration of the subject that
the Church sided with Hotchkiss, as this provoked an equal adherence
to the plaintiff and Starbottle on the part of the larger body of
non-churchgoers, who were delighted at a possible exposure of the
weakness of religious rectitude. "I've allus had my suspicions o' them
early candle-light meetings down at that gospel shop," said one critic,
"and I reckon Deacon Hotchkiss didn't rope in the gals to attend jest
for psalm-singing." "Then for him to get up and leave the board afore
the game's finished and try to sneak out of it," said an other,--"I
suppose that's what they call RELIGIOUS."
It was therefore not remarkable that the court-house three weeks later
was crowded with an excited multitude of the curious and sympathizing.
The fair plaintiff, with her mother, was early in attendance, and under
the Colonel's advice appeared in the same modest garb in which she had
first visited his office. This and her downcast, modest demeanor were
perhaps at first disappointing to the crowd, who had evidently expected
a paragon of loveliness in this Circe of that grim, ascetic defendant,
who sat beside his counsel. But presently all eyes were fixed on the
Colonel, who certainly made up in his appearance any deficiency of his
fair client. His portly figure was clothed in a blue dress coat with
brass buttons, a buff waistcoat which permitted his frilled shirt-front
to become erectile above it, a black satin stock which confined a boyish
turned-down collar around his full neck, and immaculate drill trousers,
strapped over varnished boots. A murmur ran round the court. "Old
'Personally Responsible' has got his war-paint on;" "The Old War-Horse
is smelling powder," were whispered comments. Yet for all that, the
most irreverent among them recognized vaguely, in this bizarre figure,
something of an honored past in their country's history, and possibly
felt the spell of old deeds and old names that had once thrilled their
boyish pulses. The new District Judge returned Colonel Starbottle's
profoundly punctilious bow. The Colonel was followed by his negro
servant, carrying a parcel of hymn-books and Bibles, who, with a
courtesy evidently imitated from his master, placed one before the
opposite counsel. This, after a first curious glance, the lawyer
somewhat superciliously tossed aside. But when Jim, proceeding to the
jury-box, placed with equal politeness the remaining copies before
the jury, the opposite counsel sprang to his feet.
"I want to direct the attention of the Court to this unprecedented
tampering with the jury, by this gratuitous exhibition of matter
impertinent and irrelevant to the issue."
The Judge cast an inquiring look at Colonel Starbottle.
"May it please the Court," returned Colonel Starbottle with dignity,
ignoring the counsel, "the defendant's counsel will observe that he
is already furnished with the matter--which I regret to say he has
treated--in the presence of the Court--and of his client, a deacon
of the church--with--er--great superciliousness. When I state to
your Honor that the books in question are hymn-books and copies of
the Holy Scriptures, and that they are for the instruction of the
jury, to whom I shall have to refer them in the course of my opening,
I believe I am within my rights."
"The act is certainly unprecedented," said the Judge dryly, "but
unless the counsel for the plaintiff expects the jury to SING from
these hymn-books, their introduction is not improper, and I cannot
admit the objection. As defendant's counsel are furnished with copies
also, they cannot plead 'surprise,' as in the introduction of new
matter, and as plaintiff's counsel relies evidently upon the jury's
attention to his opening, he would not be the first person to
distract it." After a pause he added, addressing the Colonel, who
remained standing, "The Court is with you, sir; proceed."
But the Colonel remained motionless and statuesque, with folded arms.
"I have overruled the objection," repeated the Judge; "you may go on."
"I am waiting, your Honor, for the--er--withdrawal by the defendant's
counsel of the word 'tampering,' as refers to myself, and of
'impertinent,' as refers to the sacred volumes."
"The request is a proper one, and I have no doubt will be acceded to,"
returned the Judge quietly. The defendant's counsel rose and mumbled
a few words of apology, and the incident closed. There was, however, a
general feeling that the Colonel had in some way "scored," and if his
object had been to excite the greatest curiosity about the books, he
had made his point.
But impassive of his victory, he inflated his chest, with his right
hand in the breast of his buttoned coat, and began. His usual high
color had paled slightly, but the small pupils of his prominent eyes
glittered like steel. The young girl leaned forward in her chair with
an attention so breathless, a sympathy so quick, and an admiration so
artless and unconscious that in an instant she divided with the speaker
the attention of the whole assemblage. It was very hot; the court was
crowded to suffocation; even the open windows revealed a crowd of faces
outside the building, eagerly following the Colonel's words.
He would remind the jury that only a few weeks ago he stood there as
the advocate of a powerful Company, then represented by the present
defendant. He spoke then as the champion of strict justice against
legal oppression; no less should he to-day champion the cause of the
unprotected and the comparatively defenseless--save for that paramount
power which surrounds beauty and innocence--even though the plaintiff
of yesterday was the defendant of to-day. As he approached the court a
moment ago he had raised his eyes and beheld the starry flag flying from
its dome, and he knew that glorious banner was a symbol of the perfect
equality, under the Constitution, of the rich and the poor, the strong
and the weak--an equality which made the simple citizen taken from the
plough in the field, the pick in the gulch, or from behind the counter
in the mining town, who served on that jury, the equal arbiters of
justice with that highest legal luminary whom they were proud to
welcome on the bench to-day. The Colonel paused, with a stately bow
to the impassive Judge. It was this, he continued, which lifted his
heart as he approached the building. And yet--he had entered it with
an uncertain--he might almost say--a timid step. And why? He knew,
gentlemen, he was about to confront a profound--aye! a sacred
responsibility! Those hymn-books and holy writings handed to the jury
were NOT, as his Honor had surmised, for the purpose of enabling the
jury to indulge in--er--preliminary choral exercise! He might, indeed,
say, "Alas, not!" They were the damning, incontrovertible proofs of the
perfidy of the defendant. And they would prove as terrible a warning to
him as the fatal characters upon Belshazzar's wall. There was a strong
sensation. Hotchkiss turned a sallow green. His lawyers assumed a
careless smile.
It was his duty to tell them that this was not one of those ordinary
"breach-of-promise" cases which were too often the occasion of ruthless
mirth and indecent levity in the court-room. The jury would find
nothing of that here. There were no love-letters with the epithets of
endearment, nor those mystic crosses and ciphers which, he had been
credibly informed, chastely hid the exchange of those mutual caresses
known as "kisses." There was no cruel tearing of the veil from those
sacred privacies of the human affection; there was no forensic shouting
out of those fond confidences meant only for ONE. But there was, he was
shocked to say, a new sacrilegious intrusion. The weak pipings of Cupid
were mingled with the chorus of the saints,--the sanctity of the temple
known as the "meeting--house" was desecrated by proceedings more in
keeping with the shrine of Venus; and the inspired writings themselves
were used as the medium of amatory and wanton flirtation by the
defendant in his sacred capacity as deacon.
The Colonel artistically paused after this thunderous denunciation.
The jury turned eagerly to the leaves of the hymn-books, but the
larger gaze of the audience remained fixed upon the speaker and
the girl, who sat in rapt admiration of his periods. After the hush,
the Colonel continued in a lower and sadder voice: "There are, perhaps,
few of us here, gentlemen,--with the exception of the defendant,--who
can arrogate to themselves the title of regular church-goers, or to
whom these humbler functions of the prayer-meeting, the Sunday-school,
and the Bible-class are habitually familiar. Yet"--more solemnly--"down
in our hearts is the deep conviction of our shortcomings and failings,
and a laudable desire that others, at least, should profit by the
teachings we neglect. Perhaps," he continued, closing his eyes dreamily,
"there is not a man here who does not recall the happy days of his
boyhood, the rustic village spire, the lessons shared with some artless
village maiden, with whom he later sauntered, hand in hand, through
the woods, as the simple rhyme rose upon their lips,--
'Always make it a point to have it a rule,
Never to be late at the Sabbath-school.'
"He would recall the strawberry feasts, the welcome annual picnic,
redolent with hunks of gingerbread and sarsaparilla. How would they feel
to know that these sacred recollections were now forever profaned in
their memory by the knowledge that the defendant was capable of using
such occasions to make love to the larger girls and teachers, whilst
his artless companions were innocently--the Court will pardon me for
introducing what I am credibly informed is the local expression--'doing
gooseberry'?" The tremulous flicker of a smile passed over the faces of
the listening crowd, and the Colonel slightly winced. But he recovered
himself instantly, and continued,--
"My client, the only daughter of a widowed mother--who has for years
stemmed the varying tides of adversity, in the western precincts of this
town--stands before you to-day invested only in her own innocence. She
wears no--er--rich gifts of her faithless admirer--is panoplied in no
jewels, rings, nor mementos of affection such as lovers delight to hang
upon the shrine of their affections; hers is not the glory with which
Solomon decorated the Queen of Sheba, though the defendant, as I shall
show later, clothed her in the less expensive flowers of the king's
poetry. No, gentlemen! The defendant exhibited in this affair a certain
frugality of--er--pecuniary investment, which I am willing to admit
may be commendable in his class. His only gift was characteristic alike
of his methods and his economy. There is, I understand, a certain
not unimportant feature of religious exercise known as 'taking a
collection.' The defendant, on this occasion, by the mute presentation
of a tin plate covered with baize, solicited the pecuniary contributions
of the faithful. On approaching the plaintiff, however, he himself
slipped a love-token upon the plate and pushed it towards her. That
love-token was a lozenge--a small disk, I have reason to believe,
concocted of peppermint and sugar, bearing upon its reverse surface
the simple words, 'I love you!' I have since ascertained that these
disks may be bought for five cents a dozen--or at considerably less
than one half cent for the single lozenge. Yes, gentlemen, the words
'I love you!'--the oldest legend of all; the refrain 'when the morning
stars sang together'--were presented to the plaintiff by a medium so
insignificant that there is, happily, no coin in the republic low
enough to represent its value.
"I shall prove to you, gentlemen of the jury," said the Colonel
solemnly, drawing a Bible from his coat-tail pocket, "that the defendant
for the last twelve months conducted an amatory correspondence with
the plaintiff by means of underlined words of Sacred Writ and church
psalmody, such as 'beloved,' 'precious,' and 'dearest,' occasionally
appropriating whole passages which seemed apposite to his tender
passion. I shall call your attention to one of them. The defendant,
while professing to be a total abstainer,--a man who, in my own
knowledge, has refused spirituous refreshment as an inordinate weakness
of the flesh,--with shameless hypocrisy underscores with his pencil the
following passage, and presents it to the plaintiff. The gentlemen of
the jury will find it in the Song of Solomon, page 548, chapter ii.
verse 5." After a pause, in which the rapid rustling of leaves was heard
in the jury-box, Colonel Starbottle declaimed in a pleading, stentorian
voice, "'Stay me with--er--FLAGONS, comfort me with--er--apples--for
I am--er--sick of love.' Yes, gentlemen!--yes, you may well turn
from those accusing pages and look at the double-faced defendant. He
desires--to--er--be--'stayed with flagons'! I am not aware at present
what kind of liquor is habitually dispensed at these meetings, and for
which the defendant so urgently clamored; but it will be my duty, before
this trial is over, to discover it, if I have to summon every barkeeper
in this district. For the moment I will simply call your attention to
the QUANTITY. It is not a single drink that the defendant asks for--not
a glass of light and generous wine, to be shared with his inamorata,
but a number of flagons or vessels, each possibly holding a pint
measure--FOR HIMSELF!"
The smile of the audience had become a laugh. The Judge looked up
warningly, when his eye caught the fact that the Colonel had again
winced at this mirth. He regarded him seriously. Mr. Hotchkiss's counsel
had joined in the laugh affectedly, but Hotchkiss himself sat ashy pale.
There was also a commotion in the jury-box, a hurried turning over of
leaves, and an excited discussion.
"The gentlemen of the jury," said the Judge, with official gravity,
"will please keep order and attend only to the speeches of counsel. Any
discussion HERE is irregular and premature, and must be reserved for the
jury-room after they have retired."
The foreman of the jury struggled to his feet. He was a powerful man,
with a good-humored face, and, in spite of his unfelicitous nickname of
"The Bone-Breaker," had a kindly, simple, but somewhat emotional nature.
Nevertheless, it appeared as if he were laboring under some powerful
indignation.
"Can we ask a question, Judge?" he said respectfully, although his voice
had the unmistakable Western American ring in it, as of one who was
unconscious that he could be addressing any but his peers.
"Yes," said the Judge good-humoredly.
"We're finding in this yere piece, out o' which the Kernel hes just bin
a-quotin', some language that me and my pardners allow hadn't orter be
read out afore a young lady in court, and we want to know of you--ez a
fa'r-minded and impartial man--ef this is the reg'lar kind o' book given
to gals and babies down at the meetin'-house."
"The jury will please follow the counsel's speech without comment," said
the Judge briefly, fully aware that the defendant's counsel would spring
to his feet, as he did promptly.
"The Court will allow us to explain to the gentlemen that the language
they seem to object to has been accepted by the best theologians for
the last thousand years as being purely mystic. As I will explain later,
those are merely symbols of the Church"--
"Of wot?" interrupted the foreman, in deep scorn.
"Of the Church!"
"We ain't askin' any questions o' YOU, and we ain't takin' any answers,"
said the foreman, sitting down abruptly.
"I must insist," said the Judge sternly, "that the plaintiff's counsel
be allowed to continue his opening without interruption. You" (to
defendant's counsel) "will have your opportunity to reply later."
The counsel sank down in his seat with the bitter conviction that the
jury was manifestly against him, and the case as good as lost. But his
face was scarcely as disturbed as his client's, who, in great agitation,
had begun to argue with him wildly, and was apparently pressing some
point against the lawyer's vehement opposal. The Colonel's murky eyes
brightened as he still stood erect, with his hand thrust in his breast.
"It will be put to you, gentlemen, when the counsel on the other side
refrains from mere interruption and confines himself to reply, that my
unfortunate client has no action--no remedy at law--because there were
no spoken words of endearment. But, gentlemen, it will depend upon YOU
to say what are and what are not articulate expressions of love. We all
know that among the lower animals, with whom you may possibly be called
upon to classify the defendant, there are certain signals more or less
harmonious, as the case may be. The ass brays, the horse neighs, the
sheep bleats--the feathered denizens of the grove call to their mates
in more musical roundelays. These are recognized facts, gentlemen, which
you yourselves, as dwellers among nature in this beautiful land, are
all cognizant of. They are facts that no one would deny--and we should
have a poor opinion of the ass who, at--er--such a supreme moment,
would attempt to suggest that his call was unthinking and without
significance. But, gentlemen, I shall prove to you that such was the
foolish, self-convicting custom of the defendant. With the greatest
reluctance, and the--er--greatest pain, I succeeded in wresting from
the maidenly modesty of my fair client the innocent confession that
the defendant had induced her to correspond with him in these methods.
Picture to yourself, gentlemen, the lonely moonlight road beside the
widow's humble cottage. It is a beautiful night, sanctified to the
affections, and the innocent girl is leaning from her casement.
Presently there appears upon the road a slinking, stealthy figure,
the defendant on his way to church. True to the instruction she has
received from him, her lips part in the musical utterance" (the
Colonel lowered his voice in a faint falsetto, presumably in fond
imitation of his fair client), "'Keeree!' Instantly the night becomes
resonant with the impassioned reply" (the Colonel here lifted his
voice in stentorian tones), "'Kee-row.' Again, as he passes, rises
the soft 'Keeree;' again, as his form is lost in the distance,
comes back the deep 'Keerow.'"
A burst of laughter, long, loud, and irrepressible, struck the whole
court-room, and before the Judge could lift his half-composed face
and take his handkerchief from his mouth, a faint "Keeree" from some
unrecognized obscurity of the court-room was followed by a loud "Keerow"
from some opposite locality. "The Sheriff will clear the court," said
the Judge sternly; but, alas! as the embarrassed and choking officials
rushed hither and thither, a soft "Keeree" from the spectators at
the window, OUTSIDE the court-house, was answered by a loud chorus
of "Keerows" from the opposite windows, filled with onlookers. Again
the laughter arose everywhere,--even the fair plaintiff herself sat
convulsed behind her handkerchief.
The figure of Colonel Starbottle alone remained erect--white and
rigid. And then the Judge, looking up, saw--what no one else in
the court had seen--that the Colonel was sincere and in earnest;
that what he had conceived to be the pleader's most perfect
acting and most elaborate irony were the deep, serious, mirthless
CONVICTIONS of a man without the least sense of humor. There was
the respect of this conviction in the Judge's voice as he said to
him gently, "You may proceed, Colonel Starbottle."
"I thank your Honor," said the Colonel slowly, "for recognizing
and doing all in your power to prevent an interruption that, during
my thirty years' experience at the bar, I have never been subjected
to without the privilege of holding the instigators thereof
responsible--PERSONALLY responsible. It is possibly my fault that
I have failed, oratorically, to convey to the gentlemen of the jury
the full force and significance of the defendant's signals. I am
aware that my voice is singularly deficient in producing either
the dulcet tones of my fair client or the impassioned vehemence
of the defendant's response. I will," continued the Colonel, with
a fatigued but blind fatuity that ignored the hurriedly knit brows
and warning eyes of the Judge, "try again. The note uttered by my
client" (lowering his voice to the faintest of falsettos) "was
'Keeree;' the response was 'Keerow-ow.'" And the Colonel's voice
fairly shook the dome above him.
Another uproar of laughter followed this apparently audacious
repetition, but was interrupted by an unlooked-for incident. The
defendant rose abruptly, and tearing himself away from the withholding
hand and pleading protestations of his counsel, absolutely fled from
the court-room, his appearance outside being recognized by a prolonged
"Keerow" from the bystanders, which again and again followed him in
the distance.
In the momentary silence which followed, the Colonel's voice was
heard saying, "We rest here, your Honor," and he sat down. No less
white, but more agitated, was the face of the defendant's counsel,
who instantly rose.
"For some unexplained reason, your Honor, my client desires to suspend
further proceedings, with a view to effect a peaceable compromise with
the plaintiff. As he is a man of wealth and position, he is able and
willing to pay liberally for that privilege. While I, as his counsel,
am still convinced of his legal irresponsibility, as he has chosen
publicly to abandon his rights here, I can only ask your Honor's
permission to suspend further proceedings until I can confer with
Colonel Starbottle."
"As far as I can follow the pleadings," said the Judge gravely,
"the case seems to be hardly one for litigation, and I approve
of the defendant's course, while I strongly urge the plaintiff
to accept it."
Colonel Starbottle bent over his fair client. Presently he rose,
unchanged in look or demeanor. "I yield, your Honor, to the wishes
of my client, and--er--lady. We accept."
Before the court adjourned that day it was known throughout the town
that Adoniram K. Hotchkiss had compromised the suit for four thousand
dollars and costs.
Colonel Starbottle had so far recovered his equanimity as to strut
jauntily towards his office, where he was to meet his fair client.
He was surprised, however, to find her already there, and in company
with a somewhat sheepish-looking young man--a stranger. If the Colonel
had any disappointment in meeting a third party to the interview,
his old-fashioned courtesy did not permit him to show it. He bowed
graciously, and politely motioned them each to a seat.
"I reckoned I'd bring Hiram round with me," said the young lady, lifting
her searching eyes, after a pause, to the Colonel's, "though he WAS
awful shy, and allowed that you didn't know him from Adam, or even
suspect his existence. But I said, 'That's just where you slip up,
Hiram; a pow'ful man like the Colonel knows everything--and I've seen it
in his eye.' Lordy!" she continued, with a laugh, leaning forward over
her parasol, as her eyes again sought the Colonel's, "don't you remember
when you asked me if I loved that old Hotchkiss, and I told you, 'That's
tellin',' and you looked at me--Lordy! I knew THEN you suspected there
was a Hiram SOMEWHERE, as good as if I'd told you. Now you jest get up,
Hiram, and give the Colonel a good hand-shake. For if it wasn't for HIM
and HIS searchin' ways, and HIS awful power of language, I wouldn't hev
got that four thousand dollars out o' that flirty fool Hotchkiss--enough
to buy a farm, so as you and me could get married! That's what you owe
to HIM. Don't stand there like a stuck fool starin' at him. He won't eat
you--though he's killed many a better man. Come, have I got to do ALL
the kissin'?"
It is of record that the Colonel bowed so courteously and so profoundly
that he managed not merely to evade the proffered hand of the shy Hiram,
but to only lightly touch the franker and more impulsive finger-tips
of the gentle Zaidee. "I--er--offer my sincerest congratulations--though
I think you--er--overestimate--my--er--powers of penetration.
Unfortunately, a pressing engagement, which may oblige me also to leave
town tonight, forbids my saying more. I have--er--left the--er--business
settlement of this--er--case in the hands of the lawyers who do my
office work, and who will show you every attention. And now let me
wish you a very good afternoon."
Nevertheless, the Colonel returned to his private room, and it was
nearly twilight when the faithful Jim entered, to find him sitting
meditatively before his desk. "'Fo' God! Kernel, I hope dey ain't
nuffin de matter, but you's lookin' mighty solemn! I ain't seen you
look dat way, Kernel, since de day pooh Massa Stryker was fetched
home shot froo de head."
"Hand me down the whiskey, Jim," said the Colonel, rising slowly.
The negro flew to the closet joyfully, and brought out the bottle.
The Colonel poured out a glass of the spirit and drank it with his
old deliberation.
"You're quite right, Jim," he said, putting down his glass, "but
I'm--er--getting old--and--somehow I am missing poor Stryker
damnably!"
|
