Chapter VIII: Book III: The Lover (8)

The sound of a step behind her made her turn quickly, a quick frown at the interruption changing instantly into a smile of happiness, for Morgan had seen her from his window and followed her.

"It is our wedding day, sweetheart," he said when he had reached her and put his arm about her. "Our wedding day--think of it! May I be the first to kiss you on such an important day?"

Natalia looked up at him thoughtfully, dwelling with a tender glance upon his bright, manly face and fair hair. In the morning brilliance he shone resplendent, catching, as if by natural attraction, all the beauty and freshness of the day in his brilliant colouring and deep blue eyes.

"Is it such an important day?" Natalia answered softly. "I sometimes wonder if marriage is not an anticlimax. The greatest moment to me was when I realized that I loved you. Nothing will ever equal the joy of that--not even our wedding."

"That is a girl's way of looking at it," Morgan laughed easily. "With a man it is quite different. You see, dear, he fears so that the girl might change her mind, that he is not really happy and satisfied until she actually belongs to him."

"There you go, Morgan." Natalia looked away, answering his smile half-heartedly. "Joking when I am serious. But it is very fortunate, I suppose. I should always see the serious side of life if it were not for you. I am so glad that we are different, dear. You see--we are antidotes. You correct my seriousness--I sober your lightheartedness."

Morgan looked at her curiously.

"Yet you can be as gay as I, Natalia. You were so at school; you were on our long voyage together. It is only since we have been engaged that you have changed. What is it? Are you not entirely happy?"

"Of course I am--the happiest woman in the world! Only I feel my happiness differently from you. It is a more serious thing to me. It's my nature, I suppose. I've been trying all my life to let people know how happy I was, and even when in my most melancholy spells I found a certain quiet peace, I had to appear gay to keep others from thinking I was miserable. It's a trick of mine, to hide my real feelings, I suppose. We're all acting, anyhow, don't you think so?"

"No, I'm not," Talbot smiled down at her gayly. "I honestly believe I am as nearly frank as people get. I never could hide my emotions, and I've never yet learned to control my anger."

"How dreadfully you frighten me, Morgan." Natalia frowned in assumed fear. "Suppose you should get angry with me--would you treat me very badly? Would you whip me?" She laughed outright. "Dicey says there used to be an old farmer here who whipped his wife every Saturday night because he said it was the only way a man could make a woman respect him. And she also says that when the man was sent to jail for stealing his neighbour's cow, that his wife would go with him. Such a case makes one ponder, doesn't it, Morgan, as to which is the right way to hold another's love?"

"I'll never treat you that way, Natalia, because," and he hesitated, half-serious, "I'm almost afraid of you at times--when your eyes grow very black and the colour fades out of your face. I don't know whether it is anger, or what. It makes you wonderfully beautiful, though."

"I know--it is when I'm very intense. It's when my Spanish blood is aroused. Sometimes I have felt that I was acting without my own volition--that some one else, a new nature within me, was compelling me on to something I was helpless to combat. I will tell you about it some day, but not this morning. I've determined to let nothing mar our happiness to-day. But I have a request to make," she ended tentatively.

"Anything in the world--you have only to name it," Morgan replied promptly, swinging her hand in his, to and fro, like a happy schoolboy.

"Do you know, sir," Natalia began, with mincing manner and chiding voice, "that you spent all of yesterday afternoon and the one before, away from me--and worst of all--with Mr. Jervais!"

Morgan's face showed his evident surprise.

"You don't mean to tell me, Natalia, that you objected to that! Certainly you didn't want me to stay here all the time listening to you women folks discuss trousseaux and wedding cakes!"

Natalia smiled at him silently.

"That must be a very attractive place--that Mansion House," she commented archly.

"The tavern! What do you know about it?"

"Uncle Felix told me how popular you were there--how many friends you had made already. It doesn't take a very lively imagination to picture the poker games there, for I've heard of them ever since I could remember. There were great old days, then, and still are, I fancy, if you men would only tell about it. But, seriously, Morgan, don't go this afternoon. Promise me."

Morgan's face had clouded as she ended, and slipping his arm around her he led her towards the bench on the brow of the hill.

"Listen, Natalia," he said, when they had sat down. "Something happened yesterday which I did not want you to know. Now, I see I had best tell you. Lemuel Jervais and I got into a pretty reckless game of poker all the afternoon. Towards the end I think he must have reached the limit of his ready resources, for when every one had withdrawn and he and I were sticking it out, he said he was going to pay me in slaves, if he lost. You know my feelings in regard to slavery. So when it came to that, I threw down my hand and said I was not gambling for human beings!" Morgan dropped his hands between his knees and stared before him in silence. "It was all rather unfortunate, but I suppose couldn't be helped," he continued. "What makes it a little embarrassing to me is that Jervais insisted that I should go back again to-day and finish the game."

"But you didn't agree to it, did you?" Natalia exclaimed.

"What else could I do?" Morgan answered rather gloomily. "He is my host and yours, and would take offence--particularly as I have been the winner all along. Besides, it wouldn't do not to go for a little while. Do you know what I've decided to do?" he added, bright again. "I'm going to let Jervais win rather heavily, and then suggest that we come back here."

Natalia met his brightness only half-way.

"I suppose you will have to do it, but you _will_ come back soon?"

"You have my word for it."

"Well, then, I suppose I'll have to be contented." Natalia smiled again. "But after to-day, when everybody has gone away, and Brother Joel and Millicent are on their way to New Orleans, and we shall be here all alone--you must not let a single thing, no matter how great, take you away from me. Just you and I--all alone! I've planned each day--almost every moment!"

They strolled a little way down the hill, to where the ground rolled precipitately to the river. The opposite shore was still grey and misty with the retreating night, and over the stretch of wilderness hung a blue veil of mystery.

"The Indians call it 'The Land of the Setting Sun,'" Natalia said, looking out before her. "Poor wild creatures! It seems the only land left them now. To me it always seemed the future. One thinks one sees it, yet it is all vague and unknown."

"That is not the way with our future, though," Morgan replied, gathering Natalia in his arms. "Ours is neither vague nor unknown. This day is a symbol of what it is to be. It will be only happiness," he kissed her, "happiness--and happiness again!"

The day deepened in beauty as the hours passed, and all the while elaborate decorations were being arranged throughout the house. Many friends came, bringing wagon loads of trailing vines and ferns and wild hydrangeas. Festoons of Southern smilax were twined about the columns and draped from one to the other, so that the old house looked gay and youthful, as it had many years ago; and along the veranda, tables were placed on which stood tall crystal globes protecting the candles which were to illumine the place at nightfall; and along the balustrade of the upper balcony was a row of candles which encircled the house, and would make it a blaze of glory.

In the grove hundreds of transparences were hung high among the thick foliage, vying with the white blossoms in doing honour to the occasion; two big piles of brush were placed far out on the road beyond the gate, which were to be set ablaze in the evening and light the late arrivals on their way.

Within, the large salon was heavy with the odour of gardenias. The walls were covered with the fragrant blossoms and from the corners of the ceiling to where the bronze chandelier swung with its hundred and fifty candles, garlands of ivy were draped. Across the hall, the dining-room floor was waxed until Zebediah pronounced it too slippery for any one to stand upon, much less attempt dancing. Even the library was thrown open, a thing never done before in entertaining, and all the wedding presents displayed there--presents that brought smiles and tears to Natalia, for in many of these gifts she realized that the friends of her parents were parting with their heirlooms to do her honour. There were priceless pieces of Sevres china; a huge punch bowl of Bohemian glass, the sides cut in broad panels which showed layers of rose and cream; candlesticks in bronze and brass and silver; many pieces of Sheffield plate and silver that had come to America with its early settlers; and, causing more trouble and amusement than all the other presents, a magnificent peacock sent by old Mrs. Buckingham, which thought its special duty was to make the air ring with hideous cries.

In the late afternoon Natalia went down the stairs on the back veranda to inspect the last touches that Mrs. Jervais and Mrs. Houston were giving the supper table. The veranda had been enclosed the whole length in osnaburgs, and a long table extended from one end to the other, literally groaning under the weight of appetizing delicacies.

Already the front of the house was gay with the people who had driven many miles to the wedding, and whose carriages and wagons were encamped without the gates awaiting the return to them in the early morning; for it was the custom of those days to spend the entire night in jollification, the fiddlers never resting their bows until the sunlight clashed with candle-light.

"Oh, Natalia, look at those nougat pyramids! Aren't they dreams!" Millicent cried. "I know they must be six feet high."

"They were made in New Orleans," commented Mrs. Jervais, proudly, following the two girls as they moved down the table inspecting everything.

"Won't it be a pity to break them? But of course every one will want a souvenir to take home. Natalia, I think you ought to keep one whole in memory of the day. And there's the wedding cake! In five terraces! Isn't it beautiful? Where in the world did you get it, Mrs. Houston?"

Mrs. Houston's eyes lit up with enthusiasm.

"I made every bit of it myself. It took the whites of fifty eggs!"

"What on earth did you do with the yelks?" exclaimed Millicent, dumbfounded.

"Is there nothing I can do?" Natalia said, putting her arms about the old lady, and kissing her cheek. "How good you all are to me! I seem to grow happier every moment--"

The clang of the door-bell broke on her unfinished words, and in the next moment a servant had entered with a note. Natalia took it from the salver, and glanced at the address, drawing her brows together, as if in recollection. The others waited silently impatient.

"Do open it, Natalia," Millicent cried. "I _know_ it's another wedding present. Won't you read it aloud?"

Natalia still held the note in her hand, thoughtfully regarding it.

"I'm trying to remember whose writing it is. It's very familiar. Oh, I know now! It's Sargent Everett's."

She tore open the envelope, letting it fall to the floor as she hurriedly read the note. When she looked up again, the tears were streaming down her face.

"He has sent me the most precious wedding present in the world," she cried with a sob in her voice. "He has given Mammy back to me!"

She ran through the dining-room, and down the full length of the hall, and out on to the front porch, throwing herself into the old slave's arms.

"He has given you to me, Mammy! He has given you to me! You're mine--you dear old Mammy Dicey! Come on upstairs to my room, and tell me all about it. Mammy, I'm getting everything in the world to-day. Isn't it wonderful? And now you've come back to me!"

She pulled the old woman up the steps beside her, and into the big room where they had spent many hours together.

It was about dusk, and the room was in the quiet gloom of twilight. Natalia locked the door after they had entered, and pushing a big arm chair close beside the bed, she led Dicey who stood in the centre of the room, dazed into forgetfulness by the familiar objects about her, to it, and made her sit down while she threw herself on the bed and drew the old slave's hands into both her own.

"It's like old times, isn't it, Mammy? Just exactly like it used to be--you there beside me when I went to sleep. Oh, Mammy, I'm so happy! I want to cry just a little like I used to, and you hold my hand and pat it and sing to me,--very soft and low, ah! now!"

And with the light gently fading from behind the bowed blinds, and the room sinking into darkness, the old slave chanted softly, with the tears streaming down her furrowed cheeks:

"Whar, oh, whar am de Hebrew chillun,
Whar, oh, whar am de Hebrew chillun,
Whar, oh, whar am de Hebrew chillun,
Way ober in de promis' lan'."

*CHAPTER VII*

*THE HOUR OF THE WEDDING*

Evening closed about the old home; the candles in the garden began to glimmer and throw a fairylike glow through the shrubbery; the two great bonfires on each side of the gate were lighted and illumined the road for near a mile. Carriages began rolling up to the front door and discharging their elaborately costumed occupants. The sound of laughter and merry voices floated up in waves, and in the distance came the wail of fiddles being tuned.

Suddenly a rap sounded on the door; the sanctuary of the two reunited women was broken.

"Natalia! Natalia! All the guests are arriving," Millicent called in an excited voice. "Have you begun to dress? Do let me in! It's scandalous for them to be so late!"

Natalia sprang from the bed and hurried to the door.

"Is it really late?" she exclaimed, as Millicent burst into the room. "I hadn't an idea time was flying so. Mammy and I had gone back years and years, and forgotten everything. Is Morgan ready?"

"Ready! I should think not!" Millicent answered. "Do you know, neither he nor Joel nor Mr. Jervais have come back yet; and they have been gone for hours. Mrs. Houston sent the Judge in an hour ago to bring them back. It's perfectly dreadful for them to behave like this, and I intend to tell them so as soon as they come!"

Natalia listened calmly, then turned away to hide the anxiety in her eyes.

"They will be here before we know it," she answered, after a little while, forcing a smile to her lips.

"I suppose they became interested in some discussion and forgot all about the time. Just like men! But do hurry, Millicent, and come back as soon as you can to help me dress. Now, Mammy," she turned back to Dicey, stopping a moment to survey herself in the cheval glass. "Are you going to help make me very beautiful to-night? I believe I'll wear my hair like I used to. It's dreadfully unfashionable now, but I believe it's becoming."

She sat down in the chair, and unloosening her hair, let it fall in waves about her. Clasping her hands tight in her lap, she looked steadily before her the anxiety creeping back into her eyes. All the while Dicey watched her closely. In the old woman's eyes the strange look had come again. It was burning brilliantly now.

"I wish he had come sooner. I wish--" Natalia lifted her head resolutely--"I mean platted in a crown, Mammy, like you did it when I was a little girl. Have you forgotten how?"

"No--I hain't fergit."

"Then you arrange it for me, and I'll wear the daisies in it that you brought me. Won't that be fetching? I'll sit very still, Mammy, while you fix it. Do you remember," she laughed plaintively, "how I used to wriggle and fidget when you would do it that way?"

Dicey did not move toward her. Shaking her head firmly she only stared.

"I won't fix hit dat way fer yer," she suddenly burst out. "I won't! I won't!"

"Why, Mammy, don't you think it's becoming?"

"I won't fix hit dat way 'cause he allus said he lak hit dat way."

Natalia looked at her bewildered.

"But Morgan never saw me wear it that way. How could he know?"

"I don' mean him. I means Marse Sargent."

Natalia broke into a merry laugh and drew the old woman's face down to her own.

"You dear--old--foolish--Mammy! Of course I didn't know you were talking about Sargent Everett. Besides--what difference does he make now? I believe you were teasing me about him, anyhow. If he thought so much of me he would have come to my wedding."

Dicey shook her head unconvinced.

"Is dat all de larnin' yer done pick up in yer trabbelin', honey? Hit's 'cause he lubs yer so dat he cyant b'ar seein' yer marryin' anoder man. Dat's hit, honey-chile."

Natalia narrowed her eyes a moment; then smiled, a little wistfully.

"You are entirely too wise, Mammy. Sometimes I almost fear you. You are trying to make me unhappy on my wedding night, by telling me my happiness is breaking another's heart. You know it isn't really so--now is it, Mammy?"

Dicey's face was turned away from Natalia as she moved about the room, pulling down the shades and lighting the candles. Twice she opened her lips to speak, then closed them tight and went on. Suddenly she stopped and went back to Natalia.

"Yer is breakin' his heart--yer is--yer is. Yer tole him yer wuz gwine come back ter him an' yer ought ter done hit. Yer know yer ought to--cause yer done pledge yerself ter him." Her face was close to Natalia's as she whispered the words, and involuntarily the girl drew back, startled. The intensity of the old woman's eyes was ominous. The next moment Natalia rose from her chair and faced her.

"Mammy, you are trying your best to make me miserable. I never thought it of you. You have lost all your love for me for your new master. Because you love him so, you think every one must--but I do not--do you hear, Mammy? I don't love him one bit any more; he doesn't love me either. It's all your imagination! And if you don't stop talking about him, I'm going to send you right back to him!"

Natalia's voice was calm, but her eyes flashed into the old woman's, speaking her anger. In another moment Dicey was on her knees with her arms about her.

"Fergive me! honey-chile, I didn' mean nothin'!" she cried. "I lubs yer more'n ennybody in de worl', but I cyant help er feelin' kinder perturbed 'bout pore Marse. Yer hain't gwine sen' me erway, will yer? Say yer won', honey, 'cause he'll be powerful mad wid me ef he knows I'se done made yer mad. I'll do yer ha'r anyway yer says ef yer'll only say yer hain't gwine sen' me erway."

Natalia's anger went as it had come. The next moment she was seated before the mirror, with Dicey brushing and platting her hair.

"We always did quarrel, Mammy," she laughed happily again. "I suppose it proves our love, don't you? But it does make me so jealous to find you loving somebody more than you do me," she added, reflectively. "It really is odd how he makes people love him," glancing at Dicey's enigmatic face reflected in the mirror. "I'm talking about your master, Mammy. I see now that I have lost your love entirely. But if he does for others as he has done for me, I do not wonder at it," she sighed. "Who else would have thought of sending you to me for a wedding present?"

"Eberybody do lub him," Dicey rejoined, her eyes once more sparkling with her enthusiasm of the subject. "An' de young ladies--yer ought ter see how dey turns out in dere fine kerridges, all rigged up in finery and foolishness, when he's gwine ter speak. Dey all jes' makes sheep eyes at him all de time, an' he neber takes no notice ob none ob dem."

"That's your way of seeing him, Mammy. I'll wager he's in love with half a dozen girls this very minute. Now begin putting in the daisies, please. Yes, three at a time. Honestly, now, Mammy, crossing your heart and body, you don't think he is as handsome as Morgan, do you?"

"I neber did lak bloo eyes," Dicey answered firmly. "'Specially when dey is light bloo."

"But his are not light blue. They are very dark and beautiful. Wait until you see him close. Now, my wedding dress, Mammy. Isn't it a dream?" Natalia went to the sofa where the wedding finery was displayed. "I brought it all the way from Paris last year. You see, Mammy, it has three skirts."

"Lawdy 'bove us!" cried Dicey, touching the gown gingerly. "Hit's got sho' nuff leabes on hit, hain't hit?"

"Yes, they are arbour-vitae leaves. Millicent has been sewing them on, all day. The design represents the walls of Troy. You know all about that, don't you, Mammy?" she laughed merrily. "You see there is a border on each flounce, and on the waist, too. I saw the Princess Amelie wear one just like it. Now call Millicent, Mammy, for she will have to help me get into it. And Aunt Maria, too, and ask Mrs. Jervais to bring the jewel box."

Left alone, Natalia peered through the closed blinds into the yard below. From the lights and moving figures, she turned her eyes towards the heavens. There, too, the stars shone in a gay brilliance.

"My wedding night!" She whispered happily. "My wedding night!" She turned away from the window with a strange new excitement rushing over her. Her eyes grew deep black, glowing with intensity. Her face became flushed with a gorgeous colour.

Millicent burst into the room, completely arrayed. "How do I look, Natalia? Do you like the ribbon here, or there? It's so dreadfully hard to decide. Would you believe it--those hateful men have not come yet! I don't believe this ribbon is the right colour, after all. Do you suppose anything has happened to them?"

Natalia looked quickly towards the clock.

"It's only half after seven. The ceremony is at eight," she said slowly--then eagerly, "Perhaps they have come and you didn't know it."

"No, I have just come from Morgan's room, and he is not there. But you _must_ dress, Natalia," Millicent urged, picking up the wedding gown. "Here--get into this, while I help you. Aren't you glad the leaves look fresh? They are as green as if they had just been picked. Can't you see the girls wondering if they are real? And the wedding bouquet--it's wonderful! Mrs. Houston has just been telling me how it was made. She says she took a stick and covered it with green silk, then she laid sprays of cedar, fan shape, all over that, then in the centre she sewed the cape jessamines, all real close together. It's the most beautiful bouquet I ever saw!" Millicent ended breathlessly.

Natalia made no comment. She stood silently docile while the gown was fastened.

"It is very strange that he should do this way," she murmured to herself, "and he promised me-- Perhaps their carriage broke down on the way out!" she exclaimed. "It must be something like that!"

Mrs. Jervais entered the room, her face beaming her approval upon Natalia. In her hand she carried a large, elaborately carved sandal wood box.

"Do you know where they are? Have you heard from them?" Natalia cried, rushing towards her.

Mrs. Jervais answered her with her calm smile.

"Don't worry, clear, they will be here in plenty of time. Nothing has happened, I'm sure. If you knew Lemuel as I do, you'd know that he had taken them all to the Mansion House, where he always gets involved in those eternal political discussions. You know there is much talk now of a war with the Cherokees--so they are trying to settle it, I know. But here are the jewels, Natalia. They have not been opened since your mother's death."

Natalia took the box in her arms, pressing it to her affectionately.

"I have never seen them," she said, taking a key that Judge Houston had brought her that day, and slipping it into the lock. "I always said I would never wear them until I was married." She placed the box on a chair and knelt down before it. "I have always thought," she began, very softly, "that there are a few things that one should wear very seldom--some things only once. I am never going to wear this dress again." She laid her hand softly into the folds of the white tarletan. "I'm going to put it away in the cedar chest after to-night--way up in the attic--and only take it out on my anniversaries, to dream over."

She turned the key in the lock and lifted the lid. Lying on a white velvet lining, grown yellow with age, was a magnificent collection of jewels. There was a necklace formed of oblong pearl medallions, the centre of each filled by a large sapphire; there were ear-rings of the same design which would hang to the wearer's shoulder; four bracelets completed the set. There were several quaint brooches of onyx and pearls and diamonds, and some heavy pieces of white coral, elaborately carved.

Mrs. Houston had entered while Natalia was gazing into the case, and stood just behind her, one hand resting on her shoulder.

"You saw her wear them, Aunt Maria," Natalia murmured, finally. "Then place them on me just as she would have liked them to be."

Leading her up to the cheval glass, the old lady clasped the necklace about her throat, slipped the bracelets far up her arms, and adjusted the ear-rings to her minute satisfaction; leaving for the last the veil, which she pinned to Natalia's blue-black hair with a broad band of sapphires, her own present to the bride, and one that had done duty a century before, along the banks of the James River.

"Now you are wonderfully beautiful, Natalia," she said, giving a last touch and stepping away to gain a better view of the arrangement. "Your eyes have caught the glow of the sapphires. Look at her, Millicent! Isn't she lovely?"

Any one who now sees the portrait of her, painted by Weygant, will realize how beautiful she must have been that night; for the artist seems to have caught, with a remarkable inspiration, the gorgeous depths of her eyes, and even in the canvas one sees the faint, velvety shadows that gradually faded away from her heavy black lashes. This, probably, was what accentuated their brilliancy and gave the effect of an inner, glowing light. As she faced the others and felt their admiration, the excitement rushed over her again, and for a moment she was dazzling.

Dicey was the first to turn from her and gaze towards the window.

"Do you see them coming, Mammy?" Natalia asked, still before the mirror.

"No, ma'am, dey's all done quit comin'," came Dicey's low murmur.

Natalia turned swiftly towards Mrs. Houston, searching her face for some sign of anxiety. She found none.

"You all go downstairs and entertain the people," she said at last. "Mammy will stay here with me until Morgan comes."

"I _do hope_ they will come soon," Millicent said, kissing Natalia for the tenth time. "I'm terribly impatient and flustered, and I always get so red in the face when I am excited."

"It will not be long now," Mrs. Houston said cheerfully, "I sent Felix for them an hour ago, and you may be sure he will find them. I'll send you word, dear, as soon as I see them coming."

Left alone with Dicey, Natalia turned slowly back to the mirror and looked at herself a long time. The veil was still thrown back from her face, and in the soft glow of the candles, the reflection gained a vague, misty charm.

During the long silence the sound of fiddling floated up to the room. Surely he had come now! That was the reason for the music. As she listened, the music faded softly and finally stopped altogether. Still there was no sound of a carriage on the driveway. Finally she sank into a chair and looked at Dicey, who was peering intently through the shutters. Then she glanced at the clock. It was exactly eight--the marriage hour. The fiddling began again, and mingling with it, the sounds of laughter in the garden and the swishing of silks along the veranda.

She rose from the chair, walking about the room, while the clock ticked off the minutes relentlessly. In the stillness of the room her voice sounded harsh and unnatural.

"Mammy--do you see him coming?"

Dicey did not answer nor move from her position.

"Mammy--come here!"

The old slave held up her hand cautiously.

"Wait--I sees er kerridge."

Natalia laughed happily.

"How foolish I've been! I was actually getting nervous!"

"Dey is drivin' mighty slow--sh-h--dar's er man lyin' 'cross de back seat--sumthin's done happen."

Natalia rushed toward the window and threw the shutters wide apart. In the glow of the illuminations she saw the occupants of the carriage distinctly. Judge Houston and another man sat on the front seat; on the back seat, lying outstretched, was a limp figure, the face covered with a handkerchief.

She rushed to the door and out into the hall, pausing half-way down the steps when she saw the men carrying the helpless form into the parlour. She stood there, as if frozen lifeless, the crowded hall unseen, the curious glances of the guests unnoticed. Then, when the muffled stillness was broken by a shriek, she moved one step further. It was Mrs. Jervais' voice that had resounded through the crowded house.

It was then that Judge Houston came out of the parlour and closed the door after him. Signalling the crowd to fall back, he went towards the steps. Natalia had reached him now, her hands clinging to him in sudden trembling.

"Is it Morgan--in there?"

The old gentleman shook his head, and looking down into Natalia's pallid, quivering face framed by the wedding veil, he drew her close to him.

"No--it is Lemuel Jervais."

"And Morgan--where is he?"

Judge Houston did not reply at once. Putting his arm about Natalia, and motioning away the staring crowd, he led her down the hall to a deserted place on the back veranda, where the wedding supper was already on the table and the candles blazing.

"They had a difficulty over cards--Morgan and Jervais," the old gentleman spoke in a low voice. "When I got there Lemuel was--dead. If I could only have gotten there sooner!" he ended, his whole figure shaking with emotion.

Natalia leaned heavily against the wall.

"Where is Morgan?" she finally asked.

"There was only one place for him to go to--the jail. It seems to have been a very bitter fight,--the slavery question was at the back of it,--you know the type of Jervais' followers. I knew the jail was the only safe place for him--I was powerless to stem the crowd."

"Is he safe--now?"

"Yes."

Suddenly Natalia tore the veil from her head and threw it away from her.

"Will you take me to him, Uncle Felix--now--at once?"

The old gentleman drew back, startled by her vehemence.

"Not to-night, Natalia. It is no place for you."

For a second her eyes flashed into his.

"If he is in danger I want to face it with him! Will you go with me? Or shall I go alone?"

*CHAPTER VIII*

*ORANGE BLOSSOMS AND PRISON BARS*

The fiddles were hushed. The sounds of gaiety and laughter died on the lips of the merry throng. The guests rushed for their wraps; word was sent to awaken the slaves and harness the horses for the hasty departure; everywhere were the subdued murmurs and confusion of the dismayed gathering.

Through it all Judge Houston and Natalia went calmly to the carriage, the startled crowd falling back with averted faces, letting them pass in silence.

Natalia sank into the carriage, exhausted and trembling. The strain of the last hour, with its culmination, had brought to her a relinquishing of all restraint. She found herself clinging to Judge Houston's arm as if in some way the mere contact with another would bring back her usual strength and composure. They had passed into the highway before either of them spoke.

"Are you sure that he is safe--that I am not too late?" The words trembled through her lips.

"I am positive of it," Judge Houston answered, forcing his words to speak encouragement. "The jail was the best place possible to take him. Indeed, it was the only safe place. You know the reputation of the lower element of this town, and Lemuel always had a strong following among them. He has often admitted they were his political backing. And this trouble between him and Morgan was what made me fear some sort of an outbreak. You see--at the bottom of it all, was some argument about slavery." The old man drew down his brows thoughtfully. "It seems to be developing into a curse upon our heads. God knows where it will lead us! And Morgan was unwise--he spoke out his views too literally--his statements aroused ill-feeling in others, so that his attitude now is telling against him." He stopped abruptly and pressed Natalia's hand. "I tell you all this," he continued more calmly, "to show you why I thought the jail a safe place. If there should be an unusual excitement, the restlessness of the mob would be quelled by the State's protection. I would not leave him, even to come to you, until I knew he was perfectly safe."

A light wind had risen with the night, and from the south there came a sea of racing, mackerel clouds. The night was intensely dark. Except for the flicker of the carriage lanterns and the few stars that shone through the breaks in the clouds, their surroundings were indistinguishable.

"I can't bear the thought of him there, surrounded by enemies, and I, out here--safe and protected. Why didn't you come for me sooner, Uncle Felix!" Natalia cried. "Drive faster, Zebby! Lash the horses!"

Though the carriage rocked from side to side, and the horses were galloping at their utmost speed, urged on by the singing whip, it seemed to Natalia they were dragging along inch by inch.

At last she loosened her hold of Judge Houston's arm and leaned back against the cushions.

"My wedding night!" she murmured, covering her face with her hands. "My wedding night!"

Finally the lights of the town twinkled down the road.

"Here is the town, Natalia," Judge Houston cried, putting his arm across her shoulders and drawing her to him. "We shall be there in a few minutes now and you will see that he is safe, as I told you."

Zebediah cracked his whip incessantly, and in a few minutes more the suburbs had been passed and the street lights were about them. The town seemed utterly deserted, a quiet gloom hovering over the darkened houses, until they drew near the Mansion House Tavern. Here people were standing in excited groups. A block beyond the street was a seething mass of men. Standing on the fence of the courthouse yard, a rough, savage faced man was inciting the crowd, gesticulating wildly to make himself heard above the noise. There was a deep, vibrating murmur rising from the crowd, filling the air with a foreboding sound. On all sides one could read plainly indignation and violent antagonism.

Judge Houston's face grew pale and set as they drew nearer the jail. One glance at the crowd had told him what it represented. Already the mutterings of that great trouble which was a few years later to separate a united country, had begun to spread; into the midst of these people had come a man from the centre of the opposition country, who had proclaimed his beliefs and fought for them, killing his opponent in the difficulty. The feeling of the masses centred against this stranger.

The old gentleman who had weathered the years of pioneer life and had seen the deep-rooted evil widening the breach, knew that Morgan Talbot's life hung in the balance. The crowd about him bespoke its ingredients--the lower elements of the town, inflamed by the followers of Jervais into a recklessness that meant almost anything. He also realized that the best element--the friends he could call upon to defend Talbot--were all guests at the wedding and had not yet returned to the town.

"I cyant go no fudder, Jedge."

Zebediah's whisper broke upon Judge Houston's great fear. He stood up in the carriage and surveyed the crowd. It was dense up to the gate of the jail yard. In that moment it rushed over him that the sight of Natalia might have some effect upon the crowd. He glanced at her quickly and saw that she was determined and self-controlled.

"We shall have to walk--take my arm--now."

Taking one of the lanterns that hung to the dashboard of the carriage, and holding it in his hand so that the light fell full upon Natalia, showing distinctly her white gown and jewels, Judge Houston half led, half pushed her into the midst of the crowd.

The effect was as he had expected. The crowd turned and looked at them; a whispered exclamation followed; then, during an ominous silence, a pathway was made for them, through which they passed to the gate of the jail yard.

There the keeper laid a detaining hand on Judge Houston's arm. "If it comes to the worst--if they make a rush, we are powerless!"

"Keep them back until our friends return to town."

The old gentleman's voice rang with a new firmness. "They all know and are coming to our assistance. I shall be back here in a minute and stand by you."

"Is it as bad as that?" Natalia asked so quietly that Judge Houston looked searchingly into her face. In her expression he saw the look that always comes into the faces of the brave.

"No, I don't believe they will do anything--they wouldn't dare! They are not so violent as they look."

At the end of the walk they stood at last before the jail door. When they had passed within and Natalia heard the bolt shoot into place, and knew that the threatening crowd without was separated from her by the heavy iron door, she leaned against it for renewed strength. Then, taking Judge Houston's outstretched hand, she followed him down the dimly lit corridor, only vaguely aware that she would find Morgan in such a place. Still gripping the outstretched hand she followed the old man into the cell.

Morgan Talbot and Joel were outlined against the window. From without came the subdued murmur of the multitude so that they did not hear the door open. Suddenly Morgan turned and faced them. Starting back, he looked from Natalia to Judge Houston, his eyes bloodshot and staring.

For a minute no one spoke.

"Why did you bring her?" Morgan's voice came harshly. "Don't you know what that crowd out there means? You could have spared her this at least!"

He motioned to the window where Joel still leaned against the bars, listening intently. There was no look of affection as he glanced from Natalia to the old man; it was hardly one of recognition.

Natalia moved quickly across the floor, putting both hands upon his shoulders.

"He brought me because I would not stay away, Morgan. Do you think I could have left you in this awful crowd?" Her voice broke and she began to tremble violently. "Morgan--what did you do? How did it happen?"

"How did it happen!" He stared down into her face, his hands hanging limp at his sides, his voice hard and grating. "How did it happen? Don't you know? I am a murderer!"

With the words Natalia shuddered and withdrew her hands.

"No! No! don't say that! Don't use that word! it was an accident. I know it was--tell me so!"

Talbot continued to stare at her strangely. When she drew away from him, he laughed abruptly.

"I knew _that_ would make you feel differently," he said almost in a whisper, as if to himself. "I knew it would kill your love for me," he ended with a sob.

Natalia lifted her head proudly. Instantly her hands were clinging to him again, and her voice as she spoke to him deepened vibrantly.

"_Nothing_ could alter my love, Morgan. I have come here to convince you of that. Look at me! Can't you see?"

Judge Houston went quietly across the room and taking Joel by the arm, led him to the door. They went out noiselessly, unnoticed by the others. "Look here, Joel," said the Judge as they stood in the corridor, "I want you to realize with me that public feeling will probably affect the verdict of the coroner's jury. We have a big battle ahead of us." The young fellow shook his head sadly.

"Don't you see, Morgan?" Natalia within was saying to Morgan, her voice rising as she strove to force some response into his eyes. "Don't you see I am in my wedding dress? I came as soon as Uncle Felix told me."

He stared at her a long time, the wild, hunted look gradually dying out, leaving only an expression of dumb misery.

"Natalia! Natalia!" he murmured at last, as if realizing for the first time that it was she. "Natalia--that is your wedding dress! Oh, my God!" he cried out, turning away from her and leaning against the wall. "It can never be now--never--never!" Then came the dry, hard sobs of a man who sees nothing but despair before him.

Natalia did not attempt to stop him. When he sank on to the cot, his face buried in his hands, she went and sat beside him, her eyes dry and glowing. She knew a more soothing relief had come to him than any words she might employ.

As they sat there, the folds of her wedding dress falling about them, the candles burned low, until only a ghostly gleam sparkled upon her necklace of pearls and sapphires.

Gradually the low murmuring without grew fainter and fainter, then died away entirely. The silence about them deepened; yet neither of them moved. The minutes raced along. Once, Natalia rose and lighted another candle, the first one having burned into its socket.

At last, when Morgan lifted his face to hers, he found its beauty and quiet encouragement a continuance of the peace her presence had brought him.

"Natalia," he whispered, "you love me still? It has made no difference?"

She smiled at him bravely.

"_Nothing_ could."

"Are you honest with me, Natalia--or is it only pity?"

For answer she leaned forward and kissed him.

"Then it is true," he said, drawing her hand into his, his face brightening for a second. Then again, crept back the look of deep misery. "I believe you still love me, Natalia, but we cannot be married now. No, I wouldn't ask it of you. I love you too dearly to have your life ruined by being tied to a _murderer_."

"Don't use that word, Morgan. Please don't use it. You are not a murderer. It was all an accident. Am I not right? Tell me about it and I can show you with your own words that I am right."

Morgan stretched his hands out on the cot, his fingers moving nervously in an incessant thumping.

"We spoke of it that morning--_this_ morning," he added. "It seems a thousand years ago now! I was telling you about our game of poker at the tavern, don't you remember? To-day it was the same all over again. He had not raised the money,--he had only brought the slaves themselves to pay his gambling debts. One he pointed out, as worthy to pay any man's debts--a mulatto girl, a pitiful, beautiful little creature that wept as she was brought before us. I told Jervais that I played cards with gentlemen for pleasure and not for traffic in human souls! I told him he was insulting me." He stopped a moment and shuddered. "It all happened very quickly. He struck me a blow--I returned it. Then I saw him draw his pistol and spring on me. His hands were about my neck when I had gotten the pistol out of his grasp. As they tightened I knew I was going to kill him. I can feel his hands loosening now, after the report. Great God! I can feel him slipping down, and down, until he lay dead on the floor before me!" He rose suddenly from the cot and stretched out both arms helplessly before him.

Natalia listened intently. Not an inflection of his voice escaped her. When he finished she met his eyes resolutely.

"It was not your fault. You did not do it intentionally. It was self defence."

"But I knew I was going to kill him. I knew it all the time."

"Yes, but you had to! No one could blame you! You are as innocent as I! The law will protect you."

Morgan gazed at her a long time in silence.

"Natalia,--help me to do what is right. It rests with you to make it easier for me. Don't come back here any more after to-night. Don't let me see you again. This must be the last time, dear."

He went to the cot where she still sat and looked down into her eyes.

"I am going away if I am liberated, and I am never going to see you again. It is the only way I can prove my love to you,--the only thing that would be just to you."

Natalia's eyes wavered from his burning glance. Suddenly she rose and went to the door, her face illumined by a wonderful smile.

"Where are you going, Natalia," Morgan exclaimed.

She did not answer. Knocking on the door until it was opened, she faced Judge Houston and Joel calmly.

"Uncle Felix, I wish our marriage to be performed to-night. Will you send for a minister?"

Judge Houston looked at her, startled, then his eyes sought Talbot's for an explanation. Coming back again to Natalia's, he saw the decision was hers.

"Would it not be better to wait until to-morrow?" he suggested, quickly aware of incongruity in such a marriage.

"No, it is not a time for waiting. I must prove to Morgan that this has made no difference in my love for him."

Finally the old gentleman turned away from her, reading the force in her face that brooked no interference. When he was at the door he heard Morgan speaking.

"Stop!" he commanded. "I refuse to be married to-night. Natalia does not know what she is doing."

"You both see I am perfectly calm," she said, turning to Joel and Judge Houston. "I desire above everything that we shall be married to-night. I beg of you--Morgan--"

Morgan shook his head with a determination that was greater than hers. With the decision his face gained some of its lost brilliancy. He became once more the handsome, virile man of that morning.

"When I am a free man, Natalia--when I am cleared--if you still wish it then--not before. I am determined."

The four of them were silent for a few moments. So much was at stake at that moment that each one felt the trembling of the future within his hands. At last Judge Houston stepped forward and wrung Morgan's hand.

"You are right, Morgan," he said, with his eyes bent admiringly upon the young man. "You are a brave fellow." Then he turned to Natalia. "Everything outside is quiet. The danger has subsided and I think it is time we were going back home."

"Must I go?" Natalia started, and turned swiftly back to Morgan. "Had we not better stay longer? I don't want to leave you, Morgan."

Judge Houston went towards the door. Holding his watch in his hand, he looked at it intently for several minutes.

"It is after two o'clock." He finally turned to Natalia and drew her away with him. "It will be better for Morgan to rest, and you, too. We should only excite him by staying longer. Take my advice, Natalia."

"Yes, go," Morgan urged, smiling bravely as she drew back at the door and looked appealingly to him. "I am all right now. See how quiet I am! It was brave of you to come, Natalia. God bless you both!" he ended with a break in his voice.

"We shall come back in the morning," Judge Houston said, attempting a cheerful tone. "Try to get a little sleep, and don't think too much about it. Joel--you make him rest. Everything will come out all right in the end--take my word for it."

Natalia broke from his hold, and ran back to Morgan, clinging to him as if it were their last parting.

"I shall not sleep," she whispered, her head buried on his shoulder. "I shall be thinking of you all the time--thinking of you and praying for you. And early in the morning I am coming back."

A moment more and the iron door had been slammed and bolted between them.

Outside the night had grown cool. Gusts of wind blew through the trees, ominously; across the sky the clouds drifted in restless, ever-changing forms.

Natalia was silent as she went out to the carriage, raising her eyes only once to glance furtively at the deserted street. Everything was strangely still now. No one was in sight, where a short while before was a murmuring throng.

The old man sitting beside her in the carriage could find no words to break the silence of the long drive home. Only by the affectionate pressure of his hand did Natalia know that his thoughts were continually of her.

A single light was burning in the hall when the carriage stopped before the house. The veranda and grove were deserted, the illuminations of the garden had been extinguished, and just beginning to show in the fitful light of the late moon were the ghostly blossoms of the magnolias.

Mrs. Houston and Millicent came to the door at the sound of the carriage, meeting them before they had entered the house.

"Is he safe?" Millicent cried.

"Yes, he is safe," Natalia answered, dully. Then turning to Mrs. Houston, she asked, "Where is she?"

The old lady looked towards the door.

"She is in there," nodding in the direction of the parlour. "She has not left his side since they placed him there. She would let no one stay with her."

Natalia hesitated, as she entered the hall, and stood irresolutely before the closed door.

"I must say something to her. It is only right. Yet--" she clasped her hands helplessly, searching the faces before her as if for some assistance. "Yet--_what_ can I say?"

Standing there helplessly, she did not hear the parlour door open, nor see Mrs. Jervais motionlessly looking at her. Her face was not tear-stained. Only in her eyes did the others read a grief which had already crystallized into a brilliant hardness, emanating from her like the diamond cross that sparkled on her breast. She did not move from her position in the doorway, all the time gazing at Natalia with a concentrated expression that gathered intensity as she waited.

Suddenly Natalia turned and saw her. Holding out her arms impetuously she made a step towards her--then stopped. The other woman's face repelled her.

"What can I say--what can I tell you?" Natalia murmured. "You must know how I feel for you--how I suffer with you."

Mrs. Jervais' eyes seemed to be burning into the girl before her.