Lewis Rand - Part 6
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Part 6

"The Churchills are coming, Oho! Oho!" sang out a wag perched on the window-sill.

"Not to that tune," roared a Scot from the gallery. "Mon, they're Tories!"

"Gentlemen, gentlemen! order at the polls!" shouted the sheriff.

"Colonel Churchill, for whom do you vote?"

"I vote, sir," cried the Colonel, "for Mr. Ludwell Cary, for a gentleman and a patriot, sir, and may the old county never be represented but by such!"

"Order, order at the polls! Colonel Churchill votes for Mr. Ludwell Cary! Major Edward Churchill, whom do you vote for?"

"For whom do you suppose, Mr. Sheriff?" said the Major. "For Mr. Ludwell Cary."

Cary rose from the bench and stepped forward to the edge of the platform. "Colonel d.i.c.k, Major Edward, I thank you both. May I deserve your confidence and your favour! Fontenoy is as dear to me as Greenwood."

"By G.o.d, you shall win, Ludwell!" cried Colonel d.i.c.k. "Here's a regiment of us to see you through!"

"Rome hasn't fallen yet," added Major Edward. "I don't hear the geese cackling."

"One's cackling now," smiled Cary, and Mr. Tom Mocket stepped up to the polls.

"It's not a goose; it's a turkey buzzard!"

"It's not feathered at all," said Fairfax Cary. "It's a mangy jackal to a mangy lion."

The young man had spoken loudly and contemptuously. Rand, on the Justice's Bench, and Mocket, in the act of voting, both heard, and both looked his way. Ludwell Cary knit his brows, and meeting his brother's eyes, slightly shook his head. Look and gesture said, "Leave abuse alone, Fair."

Mocket voted for Rand. "I challenge that vote!" cried Major Edward Churchill. "The man's been in prison."

Amid the noise that followed, the Jackal was heard to cry, "It's a lie!

Lewis, tell them it's a lie! Major Churchill, you'd better be careful! I was acquitted, and you know it."

"Do I?" answered the Major coolly. "I know that you ought to be making shoes in the penitentiary! Mr. Sheriff, you should really have this courtroom sprinkled with vinegar. There's gaol fever in the air."

"I don't see, Mr. Sheriff," came Rand's voice from the Justice's Bench, "that any more vinegar is needed. Gentlemen, all--whether Federalist or Republican--I was Mr. Mocket's lawyer in the case referred to. Twelve good men and true--men of this county--p.r.o.nounced him innocent. It is not surprising that my friends the Federalists should wish to gain time,--they are leagued with old Time,--but I protest against their gaining it by such means. This is not a matter of parties; it is a matter of a man being held innocent till he is proved guilty. A hundred men here can testify as to the verdict in this case. Mr. Mocket, gentlemen--" He paused and regarded the sandy-haired and freckled Tom, the brother of little Vinie, the sometime door-boy in Chancellor Wythe's law office, with a smile so broadly humorous, humane, and tolerant, that suddenly the courtroom smiled with him. "Tom Mocket, gentlemen, is a scamp, but he's not a scoundrel! The election proceeds, Mr. Sheriff."

"I vote for Lewis Rand!" shouted the scamp out of the uproar. "Richmond now, then Washington! We'll send Lewis Rand as high as he can go!"

"As high as the gallows!" growled Major Edward Churchill.

"Send him," said a voice in the doorway, "out West. Mr. Jefferson gained Louisiana, but 'twill take a stronger man to gain Mexico. Mexico wants a Buonaparte."

The day wore on with no lessening of heat and clamour. The Court House becoming too full, men betook themselves to the yard or to the street, where, mounted on chairs or on wagons from which the horses had been taken, they harangued their fellows. Public speaking came easily to this race. To-day good liquor and emulation p.r.i.c.ked them on, and the spring in the blood. Under the locusts to the right of the gate Federalists apostrophized Washington, lauded Hamilton, the Judiciary, and the beauty of the English Const.i.tution, denounced the French, denounced the Louisiana Purchase, denounced the Man of the People, and his every tool and parasite, and lifted to the skies the name of Ludwell Cary. To the left of the gate, under the locusts, the Republicans praised the President of the United States and all his doings, and poured oblation to Lewis Rand. From side to side of the path there were alarms and incursions. Before noon there had occurred a number of hand-to-hand fights, one, at least, accompanied by "gouging," and a couple of duels had been arranged.

In the courtroom the parties jostled each other at the polls, and the candidates, side by side upon the Justice's Bench, watched the day go now this way and now that. Their partisans they must acceptably thank, and they must be quick of wit with their adversaries. Fatigue did not count, nor hoa.r.s.eness from much speaking, nor an undercurrent of consciousness that there were, after all, more parties than two, more principles than those they advocated, more colours than black and white, more epithets than hero and villain. They must act in their moment, and accept its excitement. A colour burned in their cheeks, and the hair lay damp upon their foreheads. They must listen and answer to men saying loudly to their faces and before other men, "I hold with you, and your mind is brother to my mind"; or saying, "I hold not with you, and you and your mind are abominable to me! To outer darkness with you both!"

Sometimes they consulted with their committee-men, and sometimes punch was brought, and they drank with their friends. Occasionally they spoke to each other; when they did this, it was with extreme courtesy. Cary used the b.u.t.toned foil with polished ease. Rand's manner was less a.s.sured; there was something antique and laboured in his determined grasp at the amenities of the occasion. It was the only heaviness. To the other contest between them he brought an amazing sureness, a suppleness, power, and audacity beyond praise. He directed his battle, and at his elbow Tom Mocket, sandy-haired and ferret-eyed, did him yeoman service.

At one o'clock there was an adjournment for dinner. The princ.i.p.al Federalists betook themselves to the Swan; the princ.i.p.al Republicans to the Eagle. The commonalty ate from the packed baskets upon the trampled gra.s.s of the Court House yard. An hour later, when the polls were reopened, men returned to them flushed with drink and in the temper for a quarrel, the Republicans boisterous over a foreseen victory, the Federalists peppery from defeat. In the yard the constable had to part belligerents, in the courtroom the excitement mounted. The tide was set now for Lewis Rand. The Federalists watched it with angry eyes; the Republicans greeted with jubilation each new wave. The defeated found some relief in gibes. "Holoa! here's Citizen Bonhomme--red breeches, c.o.c.kade, and Brutus crop!

"Ah, ca ira, ca ira, ca ira!"

"That man ran away from Tarleton!--yes, you did, the very day that Mr.

Jefferson--a-hem!--_absented_ himself from Monticello!"

"Challenge that man--he deserted in the Indian War!

"November the fourth, in the year ninety-one, We had a sore engagement near to Fort Jefferson!"

"Here's a traveller who has seen the mammoth and climbed the Salt Mountain!"

"Here's a tobacco-roller! Hey, my man, don't you miss old friends on the road?"

Under cover of the high words, laughter, and vituperation which made a babel of the courtroom, Cary spoke to his opponent. "Mr. Rand, do you remember that frosty morning, long ago, when you and I first met? I came upon you in the woods, and together we gathered chinquapins. Does it seem long to you since you were a boy?"

"Long enough!" answered Rand. "I remember that day very well."

"We told each other our names, I remember, and what each meant to do in the world. We hardly foresaw this day." "It is not easy to foresee,"

said Rand slowly. "If we could, we might--"

"We might foresee our last meeting," smiled Cary, "as we remember our first." He took a gla.s.s of wine from a pa.s.sing servant and put it to his lips, "To another meeting, in the wood!" he said, "since I may not quite drink to your victory."

"Ah, my victory!" answered Rand. "When I have it, I don't know that I shall care for it! That's a handsome youth, your brother--and he has worked for you like a Trojan! I'll drink to your brother!"

"Here are the Green Spring folk!" cried a voice. "They always vote like gentlemen!"

The Green Spring folk were a squadron, and they voted Cary again within sight of the goal. A man who had been standing just without the open door rested his long musket against the wall and advanced to the polls.

"Last time I voted here," he said, "'twas for Mr. Jefferson. I reckon I'll have to vote to-day for Lewis Rand."

A tumult arose. "Adam Gaudylock belongs upon the Mississippi!--He isn't an Albemarle man!--He's a Kentuck--He's a Louisianian--He's a subject of Jefferson's new kingdom!--Challenged!--He can't vote in Albemarle!"

The hunter waited for the uproar to cease. "You Federalists are mighty poor shots!" he exclaimed at last. "You make no account of the wind. I am subject of no man's kingdom. I trade in New Orleans, and I travel on the great rivers, and I've friends in Kentucky, and I hunt where the hunting's good, but when I want to vote I come back to my own county where I was born, and where I grew up among you all, and where I've yet a pretty piece of land between here and the mountains. I voted here before, and I'll vote here again. The Gaudylocks may wander and wander, but their home is on the Three-Notched Road, and they vote in Albemarle."

The vote standing, and Adam being followed by a string of hunters, traders, and boatmen, the Republican candidate was again and finally in advance. The winds blew for him from the four quarters. In the last golden light of the afternoon there was a strong and sudden muster of Republicans. From all directions stragglers appeared, voice after voice proclaiming for the man who, regarded at first as merely a protege of Jefferson, had come in the last two years to be regarded for himself.

The power in him had ceased to be latent, and friend and foe were beginning to watch Lewis Rand and his doings with intentness.

As the sun set behind the Ragged Mountains, the polls closed, and the sheriff proclaimed the election of the Republican candidate.

The Court House was quickly emptied, nor was the Court House yard far behind. The excitement had spent itself. The result, after all, had been foreknown. It drew on chilly with the April dusk, and men were eager to be at home, seated at their supper-tables, going over the day with captured friends and telling the women the news. On wheels, on horseback or afoot, drunk and sober, north, south, east, and west, they cantered, rolled, and trudged away from the brick Court House and the trampled gra.s.s, and the empty bowls beneath the locust trees.

The defeated candidate and the successful shook hands: Cary quiet and smiling, half dignified and half nonchalant; Rand with less control and certainty of himself. The one said with perfection the proper things, the other said them to the best of his ability. Young Fairfax Cary, standing by, twisting his riding-whip with angry fingers, curled his lip at the self-made man's awkwardness of phrase. Rand saw the smile, but went on with his speech. Colonel Churchill, who had been talking with Adam Gaudylock, left the hunter and came up to Cary. "Ludwell, you and Fair are not going to Greenwood to-night! I have orders from the ladies to bring you back to Fontenoy--alive or dead!"

"I find myself very much alive, Colonel!" answered Cary. "Thank you, I'll gladly spend the night at Fontenoy. Fontenoy would draw me, I think, if I _were_ dead!"

"d.i.c.k has a middling Madeira," remarked Major Edward. "And after supper Jacqueline shall sing to us. Good-evening, Mr. Rand!"

"Good-evening to you, Major Churchill," said Rand. "Good-evening, Mr.

Cary. Good-evening, gentlemen!"