my nerves were so wrought upon by the continuous dread of the doctor's coming that by the time the meal was over i was almost in a state of collapse. young master's eye noticed my indisposition, and as we turned about in the hall to mount the stairs, he said to me:
"slip out, dan, and take a walk in the fresh air, alone. you don't look well." i thanked him and halted, and he passed on without inquiring into the cause of what he must have seen was a pitiable dejection. a thousand well-sifted words could not have shown the delicacy of his nature more fittingly, and my gratitude followed him step by step as he went up the stairs; and when he had reached the landing i stole out of the house.
the brown veil of dusk lay upon the land, but in a hill-side thicket far away a light was shimmering to illumine the early evening festival of the gray fox—the moon was coming up. the air was still and soft, but heavy with the sappy scent from the[pg 175] damp grass land down the creek. on the comb of a cabin, grotesquely outlined in this dun-colored close of day, sat a negro blowing a melancholy reed, and high above him the bull-bats were screaming. in the shrubbery a hord of negro children were playing a counting-out game. i passed the cow-pens; the women were there and i heard the stream of milk spurting hard in the "piggin." my spirits rose out of their nervous lassitude; i felt a strong and almost unnatural sense of exhilaration, and this alarmed me, for we are sometimes afraid to feel an unaccountable buoyancy lest it may foretell a coming fall. i have known christians who had prayed for sanctity in the sight of the lord, to tremble at happiness, afraid that it might be a trap set by the devil. i skirted the shore of the creek, crossed the meadow, passed through the woods, entered the grassy lane and stood there with my arms on the fence, looking at the full moon, now high above the trees. and i thought that the foxes must have given over their dancing to scatter about for a night of mischievous prowling. i was on a knoll, and turning about i could see the lights in the cabins and the great house, a hen and her chickens squatted upon the ground, i fancied. the strongest light came from my young master's room, and in my mind i[pg 176] could see him sitting at the table with his eyes fastened upon his sheep-bound book. and the self-reproach of an ambitious thought that i was not keeping up with him started me homeward at a bound. but i had not gone far before i was stopped by a voice. a man stepped from the corner of the zig-zag fence. "hold on!" he said, and the doctor stood before me. the moon was on his face and in the coarse lines that traced his countenance the devil's mockery was legible.
"where are you going?" he asked, standing with his hands behind him.
"home," i answered.
"home!" he repeated, and vitriol was in his voice. "is there a home for everyone but me?" he threw his head back as if motioning toward the house. "can you go back there and sleep on a bed when i am told never to cross that threshold again? can you?"
"i don't know what you mean, doctor?"
"i have been driven away this night. the old man has turned me out."
"but am i to blame? i am the humblest member of that household."
he did not change his attitude, but i thought that i saw his bosom swelling. "the humblest because you[pg 177] are the lowest down, but a snake is low down," he said, thrusting his chin toward me. "look here, spawn. the first step you took put you in my way. do you hear me?"
"yes, sir, and i am much surprised to hear you say it. i didn't think you would acknowledge that i had so much force. we have not been friends, it is true, but i thought that my position kept us from being enemies. to be enemies must argue a certain degree of equality, and i have never presumed upon that. you may have stooped. and now let me beg you to straighten up and forget that i ever existed."
"i will forget that you have existed, and i will straighten up, but not until i have stooped lower. look here. i hate the fool boy that owns you, and if i could kill him this moment, i would. i am getting old and there is nothing left for me. but i want revenge and i am going to have it, for i am going to be sensible. i never was a fool."
"doctor, i don't understand your meaning."
"you are duller than usual. if i were to kill your master or that old imbecile, this whole county would follow me, but if i kill a yellow dog, they—" he leered at me, the moon full on his face. a chill seized[pg 178] my legs and ran to the top of my head and the roots of my hair felt cold.
"you mean that you will kill me?"
"that's what i mean. they drove me to brandy and brandy has pointed you out."
i was perfectly calm; the chill had left me. "will you please let me pass?" i asked; and he stepped back, still with his hands behind him. "no," he said.
"have you forgotten our contract?"
"you are a fool if you put faith in it. you are not negro enough to be put by with a kick. you are white man enough to be killed. and when they find you in the morning they will think that your little learning drove you mad."
this startled me. i believed that they would think so, if they should find me dead, but no obedience to a social law and surely no regard for the statutes could force me to submit quietly to the bloody purpose of this raving man.
"doctor, i have run from you for the last time. get out of my way!" i stepped aside, but he moved toward me. now his hands were in front of him and i saw a knife. i had nothing. i could have turned and run away; i could have leaped over the fence, but hot blood was coursing where the chill had crept.
[pg 179]
"i am going home," said i, "and i am going down this lane."
he made no reply, but with a leap and a strike he was upon me. i caught the wrist of his right arm; i threw my left arm about him. i thought that i heard his bones cracking and it gave me a thrill of mad delight. i did not strive to get his knife. i bent his head down till his cry was but a mutter; his right hand was crushed against his bosom—and i threw him upon the ground. he struggled, with one faint cry, for his face was in the grass, and i put my foot on his back to hold him down, to complete my victory over him. and i am free to confess that my soul was full of a joy that almost burnt me, it was so hot. many a time had he stood with his foot upon my trembling heart, and the memory of those long years of humiliation swept over me and i lifted my hands and cried aloud to the god of vengeance. i looked down at my foe under my foot. and now he was so mean and shrunken that my heart flinched with a pity that pricked it. i lifted my foot with a quick jerk lest another memory might press it down the harder, and stood waiting for him to get up. he did not move. "get up," i said, taking him by the shoulder. but he made no effort. then i turned him upon his back and the moonlight fell upon[pg 180] his blood, and horrified, i looked at him, his eyes wide open, his teeth hard set with grass between them. his right hand was still upon his left breast, clutching the knife, and its blade was buried in his heart.
i dropped upon my knees, and gazed at him, now so old and wrinkled. i leaped to my feet and the air whistled in my ears as i bounded down the lane. i was struggling to run away from the knowledge that i had killed him, but it kept up with me—showed me a jail and a gallows. i halted when near the house, put my arm about a tree and stood there. the negro cabins were dark, but a light burned in young master's room. the hour was late. the creek was louder than i had ever heard it, a mockery, not a music. a wind had sprung up and in the tree-tops there was a cold and rasping whisper. i was striving to reach a decision as to what course i should pursue. undoubtedly i had killed the man or had thrown him so that he might kill himself, but of this i had entertained no thought at the time, my aim being to protect myself and to humiliate him, to show him that i could turn and be his master. but i could not explain this to the authorities, therefore i held no notion of giving myself up. to run away were an acknowledgement of guilt, a brief inquiry and the[pg 181] rope. i could make a flat denial, if accused, but was afraid that i could not summon the nerve to maintain it. still something must be done. i might go to mr. clem, tell him the truth, get letters from him to persons in the real land of the free and with his financial aid make my escape out of the country. but this was blocked by the love i bore my young master. i went to the well and washed my hands, although i could find no blood on them, and the windlass was so loud with its groaning that i fancied the whole world must hear it. a dog came up, sniffed at me and trotted off. life had been stirred until i had found the sugar at the bottom. i must save myself, but i could not run away without telling my master, without asking his advice. i would go to him. up the stairway i stole without a noise. i was afraid that i might find old master pacing the hall, and i listened to hear his slippered feet, but all was still. i turned the knob so gently that young master did not hear me when i entered the room. he sat gazing at his book. i spoke and he started.
"why do you come slipping in this way, dan? you startled me. what were you doing so long? what the devil is the matter with you, boy?"
i caught at the edge of the table, dropped upon my knees and told him my story. i do not know what his[pg 182] face might have shown, for my eyes were cast down, i don't know what he felt, but i do know that not a sound escaped him. i got up at the end and looked at him, and his face was pale and hard.
"lie down," he said, pointing to my lounge.
"to be pulled up by the sheriff?" i cried.
"lie down and ask no questions, and stay there until i call for you. if anyone comes in, you are too ill to get up. do you hear me? this is not a request; it is a command. d— you, will you do it?" he cried, stamping the floor. "you belong to me. do as i tell you. take off your clothes. if father asks for me, tell him i went away early in the evening. don't say a word."
i took off my clothes, with the tears falling on my trembling hands. he watched me until i was in bed and then he put the light out. i heard the door close—heard him going down the stairs.
