The Marrow of Tradition Read online

  XXV

  THE HONOR OF A FAMILY

  Mr. Delamere's coachman, who, in accordance with instructions left byMiller, had brought the carriage around to the jail and was waitinganxiously at the nearest corner, drove up with some trepidation as hesaw his master emerge from the prison. The old gentleman entered thecarriage and gave the order to be driven to the office of the MorningChronicle. According to Jerry, the porter, whom he encountered at thedoor, Carteret was in his office, and Mr. Delamere, with the aid of hisservant, climbed the stairs painfully and found the editor at his desk.

  "Carteret," exclaimed Mr. Delamere, "what is all this talk aboutlynching my man for murder and robbery and criminal assault? It'sperfectly absurd! The man was raised by me; he has lived in my houseforty years. He has been honest, faithful, and trustworthy. He would nomore be capable of this crime than you would, or my grandson Tom. Sandyhas too much respect for the family to do anything that would reflectdisgrace upon it."

  "My dear Mr. Delamere," asked Carteret, with an indulgent smile, "howcould a negro possibly reflect discredit upon a white family? I shouldreally like to know."

  "How, sir? A white family raised him. Like all the negroes, he has beenclay in the hands of the white people. They are what we have made them,or permitted them to become."

  "We are not God, Mr. Delamere! We do not claim to have createdthese--masterpieces."

  "No; but we thought to overrule God's laws, and we enslaved these peoplefor our greed, and sought to escape the manstealer's curse by laying toour souls the flattering unction that we were making of barbarousnegroes civilized and Christian men. If we did not, if instead of makingthem Christians we have made some of them brutes, we have only ourselvesto blame, and if these prey upon society, it is our just punishment! Butmy negroes, Carteret, were well raised and well behaved. This man isinnocent of this offense, I solemnly affirm, and I want your aid tosecure his safety until a fair trial can be had."

  "On your bare word, sir?" asked Carteret, not at all moved by thisoutburst.

  Old Mr. Delamere trembled with anger, and his withered cheek flusheddarkly, but he restrained his feelings, and answered with an attempt atcalmness:--

  "Time was, sir, when the word of a Delamere was held as good as hisbond, and those who questioned it were forced to maintain theirskepticism upon the field of honor. Time was, sir, when the law wasenforced in this state in a manner to command the respect of the world!Our lawyers, our judges, our courts, were a credit to humanity andcivilization. I fear I have outlasted my epoch,--I have lived to hear ofwhite men, the most favored of races, the heirs of civilization, theconservators of liberty, howling like red Indians around a human beingslowly roasting at the stake."

  "My dear sir," said Carteret soothingly, "you should undeceive yourself.This man is no longer your property. The negroes are no longer under ourcontrol, and with their emancipation ceased our responsibility. Theirinsolence and disregard for law have reached a point where they must besternly rebuked."

  "The law," retorted Mr. Delamere, "furnishes a sufficient penalty forany crime, however heinous, and our code is by no means lenient. To myold-fashioned notions, death would seem an adequate punishment for anycrime, and torture has been abolished in civilized countries for ahundred years. It would be better to let a crime go entirely unpunished,than to use it as a pretext for turning the whole white population intoa mob of primitive savages, dancing in hellish glee around the mangledbody of a man who has never been tried for a crime. All this, however,is apart from my errand, which is to secure your assistance in headingoff this mob until Sandy can have a fair hearing and an opportunity toprove his innocence."

  "How can I do that, Mr. Delamere?"

  "You are editor of the Morning Chronicle. The Chronicle is the leadingnewspaper of the city. This morning's issue practically suggested themob; the same means will stop it. I will pay the expense of an extraedition, calling off the mob, on the ground that newly discoveredevidence has shown the prisoner's innocence."

  "But where is the evidence?" asked Carteret.

  Again Mr. Delamere flushed and trembled. "My evidence, sir! I say thenegro was morally incapable of the crime. A man of forty-five does notchange his nature over-night. He is no more capable of a disgracefuldeed than my grandson would be!"

  Carteret smiled sadly.

  "I am sorry, Mr. Delamere," he said, "that you should permit yourself tobe so exercised about a worthless scoundrel who has forfeited his rightto live. The proof against him is overwhelming. As to his capability ofcrime, we will apply your own test. You have been kept in the dark toolong, Mr. Delamere,--indeed, we all have,--about others as well as thisnegro. Listen, sir: last night, at the Clarendon Club, Tom Delamere wascaught cheating outrageously at cards. He had been suspected for sometime; a trap was laid for him, and be fell into it. Out of regard foryou and for my family, he has been permitted to resign quietly, with theunderstanding that he first pay off his debts, which are considerable."

  Mr. Delamere's face, which had taken on some color in the excitement ofthe interview, had gradually paled to a chalky white while Carteret wasspeaking. His head sunk forward; already an old man, he seemed to haveaged ten years in but little more than as many seconds.

  "Can this be true?" he demanded in a hoarse whisper. "Is it--entirelyauthentic?"

  "True as gospel; true as it is that Mrs. Ochiltree has been murdered,and that this negro killed her. Ellis was at the club a few minutesafter the affair happened, and learned the facts from one of theparticipants. Tom made no attempt at denial. We have kept the matter outof the other papers, and I would have spared your feelings,--I surelywould not wish to wound them,--but the temptation proved too strong forme, and it seemed the only way to convince you: it was your own test. Ifa gentleman of a distinguished name and an honorable ancestry, with allthe restraining forces of social position surrounding him, to hold himin check, can stoop to dishonor, what is the improbability of anilliterate negro's being at least capable of crime?"

  "Enough, sir," said the old gentleman. "You have proved enough. Mygrandson may be a scoundrel,--I can see, in the light of thisrevelation, how he might be; and he seems not to have denied it. Imaintain, nevertheless, that my man Sandy is innocent of the chargeagainst him. He has denied it, and it has not been proved. Carteret, Iowe that negro my life; he, and his father before him, have served meand mine faithfully and well. I cannot see him killed like a dog,without judge or jury,--no, not even if he were guilty, which I do notbelieve!"

  Carteret felt a twinge of remorse for the pain he had inflicted uponthis fine old man, this ideal gentleman of the ideal past,--the pastwhich he himself so much admired and regretted. He would like to sparehis old friend any further agitation; he was in a state of health wheretoo great excitement might prove fatal. But how could he? The negro wasguilty, and sure to die sooner or later. He had not meant to interfere,and his intervention might be fruitless.

  "Mr. Delamere," he said gently, "there is but one way to gain time. Yousay the negro is innocent. Appearances are against him. The only way toclear him is to produce the real criminal, or prove an alibi. If you, orsome other white man of equal standing, could swear that the negro wasin your presence last night at any hour when this crime could have takenplace, it might be barely possible to prevent the lynching for thepresent; and when he is tried, which will probably be not later thannext week, he will have every opportunity to defend himself, with youto see that he gets no less than justice. I think it can be managed,though there is still a doubt. I will do my best, for your sake, Mr.Delamere,--solely for your sake, be it understood, and not for that ofthe negro, in whom you are entirely deceived."

  "I shall not examine your motives, Carteret," replied the other, "if youcan bring about what I desire."

  "Whatever is done," added Carteret, "must be done quickly. It is nowfour o'clock; no one can answer for what may happen after seven. If hecan prove an alibi, there may yet be time to save him. White men mightlynch a negro on suspicion; they would no
t kill a man who was proven, bythe word of white men, to be entirely innocent."

  "I do not know," returned Mr. Delamere, shaking his head sadly. "Afterwhat you have told me, it is no longer safe to assume what white menwill or will not do;--what I have learned here has shaken my faith inhumanity. I am going away, but shall return in a short time. Shall Ifind you here?"

  "I will await your return," said Carteret.

  He watched Mr. Delamere pityingly as the old man moved away on the armof the coachman waiting in the hall. He did not believe that Mr.Delamere could prove an alibi for his servant, and without some positiveproof the negro would surely die,--as he well deserved to die.