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Chapter 6 DAVID JENISON'S STORY

Word Count: 6272    |    Released on: 29/11/2017

tively, that he seldom saw the light of day except at dawn or through the space between sidewall and top. At night he rode over rough, m

n such pieces as "I'll never Kiss my Love again behind the Kitch

minion of the law would clap him on the shoulder and end the agony of suspense. Blake, as a matter of fact, more than once came near

, the show's press agent. Simms managed it so that a press dispatch came out of Richmond in which it was said on excellent authority that the boy had

he turned over to the clown, part to Ruby and the rest to the trusty contortionist. Twice during the week Braddock bullied him into giving up twenty-five dollars to "fix it" with town officials. At least once a day he was importuned to deliver the "leather" into the safe keeping of the proprietor, who solemnly promised that it would be returned.

of Colonel Grand, who stayed with the show no longer than tw

ldren were in the "dumps," a most unnatural condition to exist among these whilom, light-hearted adventurers. When they lifted up thei

ract money from him made that worthy so disagreeable that his wife and daughter were i

h over him when the opportunity presented itself. They were warm-hearted and demonstrative, sometimes to such an exaggerated degree that he was embarrassed. He was some time in getting accustomed to their effusive friendliness; it dawned on him at last that they were not

part. She whispered "Thank you," but did not smile, and therein he was exalted. There was no day in which he failed to perform some simple act of gallantry for her and Mrs. Braddock, always with an unobtrusive modesty that pleased them. Sometimes he left spring flowers for them; on other occasions he bought sweetmeats and pastry in the towns and smuggled

te a distance from the show lot, first having sent David there on a perfectly plausible pretext. The young people met on the sidewalk in front of the house bearing the number Mademoiselle Denise had given to David. To say that he was surprised at seeing Christine under the same umbrella with the older woman would be putting it very tamely; to add that both of them were shy and uneasy is certainly superfluous. Moreover, when I say that David

he first two blocks they had nothing to say to each other, except to venture the information that it was raining. In the second block, a very lo

ake my arm, Miss-Miss Chr

awkwardly perhaps

ng in the bushes back ther

at once to Blake. Involuntarily he looked over his sho

re it was a c

afraid

adfu

afraid of elep

oud the thoughts that troubled her. Twice she peered up into the face of her compan

"I'm sorry if this gets you into t

quite glibly. "I suppose she thinks we'r

the darkness. It hid h

be your friend, David. My mother adores you. So do I, but in just the same way th

said, rather stiffly. "But," very hastily, "I'm not a

went on earnestly. "We-we don't believe a word o

only my word for it. Of course, I'd deny it. Anybody would, even i

n't talk like

ell. It's-it's as if I were a friendless, homeless dog. They're tender-hearted. They'd do as much for the

erence,

any difference what I am, they just s

his voice. Christine was young, but sh

ment undertone. "Even father-" She stopped abru

oesn't look as if he thinks I'm all right, does it? I'm-I'm not a low-down person. If I was, I could see a reason. But I'm a gentleman. Every man in my family

d him say it, David. He-he is only thinking of-must I say it? Of the disgrace to us if you should be caught and it came out we were your friends. That's it. He's thinking of us,

t always rose in his heart when he thought of Thomas Brad

so happy if you could be with us,-that is, more than you are." She was stammering, but not fr

an I've ever known-except my own mother. She's better than my a

reak through the sobs that were in her throat. Neither spoke for a m

papers said about the-t

s about crime. But," she said quickly, "sh

said about me. Just as if they knew I was guilty. But, Christine, I am going to make them take it all back.

help you!" she c

did not hear t

t, lots of times, Christine, and I've tried to put myself in their place. Sometimes I think that if I were not myself I should certainly beli

" she sh

demanded. "Tell the truth, Christine. From what you have

ssed. "The papers did not tell th

r with a gentle note in his voice, "my grandfather was very much beloved. He was the very finest man in all the state. I have sworn to avenge his death. I swea

," she ventured. "Who is he, David? Where is he to b

nk. He-he was sent out of the country by-by som

to speak of

her was. He gave my grandfather trouble all of his life. They say it was his wild habits that drove my grandmother to her grave. I knew him but slightly. When the war was two years old, he was court-martialed for treason to the cause. The story was that he had been caught trying to sell some plans to the enemy. He was sentenced to be shot. It was very clear against him, my mother told me on one o

thing of which he was accused, he being an innocent dupe in the transaction. I don't know just how it all came about, but he was exonerated completely. With this to back him up, he came to the Hall to plead for my grandfather's forgiveness

lace. Grandfather didn't really trust him, I'm sure of that. They had a couple of violent scenes New Year's week up in the library. It was something about money. Grandfather told me a little about it, but not much. He said Uncle Frank wanted him to change his will

r. This lawyer had once been a slave on the Jenison place, a yellow boy whose name was Isaac-Isaac Perry. When the war broke out he went with my uncle as his body-servant. He was a smart, thieving fellow,-always too smart to be caught, but always under suspicion. My grandfather had given him some schooli

en me, I reckon. I wondered what business he and my uncle could have to discuss. That night I made it a point to be at the hotel. I saw Uncle Frank standing out in front. When Isaac came up he took him off down the street. I heard him say to Isaac that the hotel was not a good place for a nigger to be seen, except as a servant, even if he did come as a lawyer. So they went

this, but I didn't do it. I couldn't bear the thought of carrying tale

d him, intense almos

up a new will!" she whi

ng that grandfather was quite ill. I was to come home. When I got to the Hall grandfather was much better

she wh

al time for grandfather to be about. He was fully dressed when they found him a few minutes after the shooting. A h

I know! P

med Isaac?' I was startled. 'Well, he has become a lawyer up in Richmond. He has done very well, and I want you to know what I have done for him. You are to own this place some day-soon, I fear. I have signed a paper to-night, deeding over to Isaac the little five-acre patch on the creek where he was born and where his father and grandfather were born. He saw your uncle Frank in Richmond recently and asked him if it would be possible for him to buy the ground. He wants to pu

r this evening. Isaac seems likely to make something of himself, after all.' 'I will read it in the morning,' I said, and th

as standing in the corner. I grabbed it up and crawled through a window on to the gallery, running down the back steps. As I reached the bottom I saw a man climbing over the fence to the right. Not dreaming that a tragedy had occurred, I rushed after him. He easily got away in the darkness. Then I returned to the house. As I came near I saw Is

ere standing near, looking at him as if paralyzed. There was

full minute or more. The g

le Frank and he was out of breath, very much excited. 'You little devil!' he yelled two or three times. Then he

u killed him?" wh

r in his night-clothes from his plantation, prevailed upon them to wait-to give me a hearing. My uncle Frank would have let them hang me. I began at last to realize how badly it looked for me. They laughed at my s

mon

f how he came out on the gallery above and saw me hiding in the dead lilac bushes, and afterwards creep up to the window to look in upon the thing I had done. He told of my attempt to run and of his straggle to hold

terrible thing you have done.' I couldn't speak. 'How did you know that your grandfather had made this new will?' Christine, the-the paper was a new will, giving everything to my uncle Frank, excepting a small bequest in money and a house and lot in Richmond, which, however, was to

ill?" she cried, trembling

about the deed was not believed. As for Isaac Perry, my uncle said that he left for New York soon after my grandfather's visit to Richmond, doubtless when the will was drawn and signed. He could not have been near Jenison Hall at th

ell you of my feelings when the whole thing became clear to me. I must leave that to your imagination. I was as innocent as a babe, and yet, in the eyes of every one, as guilty as ever any murderer has been in this world. My only chance to escape certain hanging lay in escape. It was after three o'clock in the morning when I began to think of flight. I made up my mind that

hey said I'd surely be lynched the next night. Oh, it was awful. I crawled out of the window hole and sneaked off toward the hen-houses, below the old slave building. I don't know when they missed me. I only know that I reached the woods and ran and ran till I thought I should drop. Some other time I will tell you of all I went through during the next week. You won't believe a lot of it, I know,-it was so dreadful. There w

him, David," she said, bu

playing and people were hurrying along the poorly lighted s

aw nothing of the scene ahead, nor

to kill my uncle Frank,

Dav

shoot him down like a dog-just as he shot his poor old fa-f

implored, terrified. "Then

mind it then," he sa

ther talk with you. She

of that, please

"Don't you think that he oug

him to be hung?" sh

ht of that, too. Isaac is too dangerous to be left alive, don't you see. He drew the will and perhaps forged granddaddy's name,

o be hanged for something you didn't

cure. Besides, he knew of the other will, dated years ago, which is in the ba

the envelope containing the three thousand dollars, hidden in his mother's black leather trunk, but from a place of concealment he was forced to hear such d

ght him out of his last fit of abstrac

The band is playing the waltz-that's the second piece before the

ject terror

mured, apprehending th

rear of the dressing-t

t of the main-tops. She was breathless with anxiety. H

you away," she cried. She

re met by Mrs. Braddock, who h

Your father is coming back through the main-top. Mr. Briggs and Professor Hanson are detai

. An instant later she disappeared, casting a quick glance up into

ock as she followed. Then he raced around the tent

di simply g

of his clothes and beginni

n through the flap, beyond which a dozen men and women

es of a vacuous but conciliatory smile. Every one

me take fifty dollars until to-morrow? There's a guy out here that threatens to attach us if

there was no such claim against Braddock. He hesitated for an instant only. Then it was borne

ined all the money that was in his possession at the time. He counted off five ten-dollar bills,

y, Jacky," said the man

strated the since

ood nature took David over to where Mrs. Braddock and Chr

he said, but he did not look at his wife. "Jacky, you rascal, you are a g

nt white. She understoo

methods in the effort

d's

She kissed her father's stubbly

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