House Divided (135 page)

“I've a horrible headache. This is the third day of it. It's driving me crazy.”

Tenderness for her softened his tones. “Then why don't you stay in bed? I'll have April bring your supper up to you.”

“Oh I don't want any supper.”

“April will fix you something nice.”

“I don't want her coming near me!” Her tone was shrill again. “I want you to get rid of her, Trav! She's a suspicious, spying, lying, deceitful nigger! I want you to get rid of her.”

Trav smiled, shook his head. “April brought me up, Enid. I'll never send her away.”

“Oh, I suppose not. But for Heaven's sake get out and let me dress.”

“Don't you want to stay in bed?”

“No. No. Go on downstairs. I'll be down.”

He hesitated. The children ought not to see her so. “When you've freshened up a little, perhaps you'll feel better.”

“If you don't like the way I look, you don't have to come home.”

His shoulders sagged unhappily. He had hoped she would be glad to see him; but there could be no good in quarrelling. “We'll wait for you,” he promised and went out and closed the door. In the drawing room Lucy looked at him with a searching question in her eyes; and he tried to make his tone normal,

“Well, did Peter turn up?”

“Yes, he's washing his hands. How's Mama?”

“Coming right down. She'll be fine when she's had supper.”

But supper proved to be a dreadful hour. Enid had masked herself with too much powder; and through this mask peered furtive, angry, frightened eyes. He saw lines about her mouth, and her lips were never still, and she licked them constantly with a restless tongue. Her hair needed brushing, and it had lost that alive quality which had been
its beauty. It was a dull mat now upon her head. She talked constantly, as though afraid of what they might say if she gave them time to speak. Trav saw in Lucy and Peter no suggestion of surprise at her manner and her appearance. Was it possible that they were used to see her so, that this in so short a time had become her normal mien? What upheaval like an earthquake had produced this dreadful change?

When supper was done, Peter vanished; but Lucy stayed till Enid cried: “Oh, Lucy, don't sit there like a statue! Go on to bed.”

Trav protested: “Now, now, Enid, it's early; and I haven't been home for a long time. Let her stay a while.”

“I hate to have her always staring at me!”

Lucy with a quick movement rose and fled, and Trav did not call her back; but when he and Enid were alone he asked quietly:

“What is it, Enid? What has happened?”

“Nothing! What are you talking about!”

“I'm afraid you're sick!”

“I told you my head's ready to split!”

Perhaps that was all. Perhaps a night's rest would restore her. “A good night's sleep's what you need,” he decided. “I'll take the other room tonight so you can have the bed to yourself. You're so used to sleeping alone now that I'd bother you.”

Her eyes touched his, then turned away again. “All right, I'll go to bed now,” she said, and rose.

He took her for a moment in his arms, wishing somehow to comfort and soothe her; but holding her thus close he felt in her passivity the tenseness of terror barely under control. Once when he was a boy he had found a rabbit in a Negro's box trap, and took it out, and mastered its frantic struggles till it lay for a moment motionless under his hands. Yet he had felt in that moment the rabbit's terror, so that he said to the little creature: “Don't be scared! I won't hurt you!” As he spoke, he relaxed his grip a little, and in a sudden violent convulsion the rabbit kicked free, one of its toenails gouging his hand so deeply that he still wore the scar.

Trav felt that same fright in Enid now, and he loosed the circle of his arms; she twisted away from him and with no backward glance went darting up the stairs. He was left to read the puzzle as he chose.
At headquarters next day he heard that a Georgia regiment of Longstreet's men, halted for a few hours at Raleigh, had tried to capture Mr. Holden. Presumably they intended violence to the editor who had begun to shout so loudly for peace, and whose editorials contributed so largely to the wholesale desertions. When Mr. Holden fled to the sanctuary of the Governor's mansion, they broke into the office of the
Standard
and wrecked it before Governor Vance could persuade them to disperse. Trav remembered Ed Blandy's anger at Mr. Holden yesterday; but Ed could not yet have reached Raleigh. This had been done by other men.

He found Longstreet concerned for fear the Georgia and South Carolina regiments in his command, which on this roundabout journey to Tennessee would pass near their homes, would have many desertions. “They'll want to drop off the trains for a day or two with their families,” he predicted. “And God knows I don't blame them; but if they get away from us, a lot of them won't come back. I've telegraphed orders to take precautions.”

Trav thought most of the men were loyal, and said so. “You heard what they did to Holden. Or tried to.”

Longstreet shook his head. “We can't risk it. Any man leaving the trains without permission will be instantly shot.” He asked: “How did you find Mrs. Currain?”

“Why, very well,” Trav said. He need not inflict his own concern on General Longstreet; but he suddenly began to dread seeing Enid alone, and he invited Longstreet to dine with them. Longstreet agreed, .but business engaged them so continuously that this plan had to be abandoned. A note from Cinda suggested that they both come to supper and said Enid and the children were coming. Longstreet was to meet President Davis and could not accept, so Trav went to the house on Fifth Street alone.

When he arrived, Enid and Lucy were already there, with Anne and Julian, Cinda and Vesta. He saw gratefully that Enid was now completely herself. It was fine to be with Cinda again, fine to see Julian so happy with Anne, fine to see the friendship between Lucy and Anne and Vesta. They all had questions. What had he done? What would he do? Julian spoke of Gettysburg. “Papa says you were in the attack the last day, Uncle Trav. Was it wonderful?”

“I think General Longstreet has the right idea about battles, Julian,” Trav suggested. “To forget them, once they're over, except to remember the lessons they taught.”

“What lessons did Gettysburg teach?”

“Well, I haven't heard anyone else say so,” Trav confessed, “but the lesson it taught me was that the Yankees can fight just as hard as we can.”

“But their generals aren't as good as General Lee!”

Trav smiled. “General Longstreet says President Lincoln is our best general, because he keeps interfering with his commanding officers.” His eyes met Cinda's, sharing the same thought; and then somewhere abovestairs a baby's cry sounded, and Vesta laughed in a rich happy way.

“That's my Tommy!” she said proudly. “Anybody want to see my wonderful son?” Lucy and Anne and Enid went with her; and Trav asked Cinda:

“How's Tilda?”

“She's taken over Mrs. Brownlaw's place, organizing the ladies to help take care of wounded and refugees.” She added fairly: “She does it well, Travis.”

“I suppose Mr. Streean's prospering.”

“Oh yes.”

“Dolly?”

“Just the same. Twenty beaux—and, whenever he's in town, Captain Pew.”

“Is Darrell here much?”

“He was here for a while in May and June; but we saw little or nothing of him. Dolly says he's in Nassau now, went with Captain Pew on one of his voyages and stayed.” Enid and Lucy came back downstairs, and Cinda added: “Jenny's managing the Plains, you know. Brett thinks she's rather wonderful.”

He spoke of Burr and Brett and Faunt, and Enid said: “None of us ever see Faunt when he comes to Richmond.”

“We saw him last spring,” Julian reminded her.

“Heavens!” Enid laughed. “He's been here since then!”

Trav was struck by her tone, and Julian asked: “Has he? How do you know.”

“Oh, I—” Enid brushed the question aside. “He's been here. Take my word for that.”

Yet she did not say she had seen him, and when they were at home and Lucy had gone to bed, Trav asked curiously: “Enid, what makes you think Faunt's been here?”

“Think? I don't think! I know he has!” She spoke with a spiteful emphasis.

“How do you know? If no one has seen him?”

Enid after a moment's hesitation said maliciously: “He comes to see Mama.” Trav stared at her in complete astonishment, and she laughed. “Oh, you needn't look so surprised! You were crazy about her yourself once, you know.”

He spoke at random. “I always thought she was very nice, but I'd forgotten she was in Richmond. Do you ever see her?”

“Why, Trav!” She spoke in a teasing drawl. “And me a respectable woman! How can you suggest such a thing?”

“Eh?” He was completely confused. “What? What do you mean?”

“Darling, don't you know?” Enid threw back her head, laughing in a fashion that was like a lash across his cheek. “You poor innocent man!” She explained, as one explains a mystery to a child: “You see, Honey, when I took you away from Mama, she had to get her hands on Currain money somehow, so she landed Tony; and when he was through with her she nabbed Faunt! She's a family pensioner!”

Anger swept him. “Enid, that just isn't true!”

“So I'm a liar!”

“Well, at least you're mistaken! Who told you?”

She laughed again. “Why, darling—if I needed to be told—Darrell did.”

“Darrell's always been a liar.”

“Tell him so to his face some day! I dare you!”

“Darrell's needed a lesson for a long time.” Trav's throat was dry with rage. “I'll stop his slanderous tongue.”

“Really? Do you think you can? Besides, it's the truth! Mama told me the same thing.”

She spoke so positively that he began to believe her. “You really mean that, Enid?”

She rose, moving toward the stairs, smiling at him over her shoulder.
“You Currains with your heads in the clouds! Yes, darling, these brothers of yours have feet of clay. If you want it in plain words, Mama was Tony's mistress for ten years, and she's Faunt's now!” She started up the stairs. “But don't let it make you lose any sleep, Honey! I know you don't want any scandal in the family; but they're all ever so discreet. I don't suppose half of Richmond knows! Good night, my simple dear.”

 

Trav when she was gone tried to tell himself that she was lying; but he was not sure. Like most men he had lived incuriously. Mrs. Albion when he last saw her four years ago at Chimneys had said she would go to live in Washington. If he had ever heard of her return to Richmond it had made no impression on him. But if she were here, then the fact that neither Cinda nor Tilda had welcomed her into the large circle of the family was proof enough that she was somehow outside the pale.

He took sick thoughts to bed with him, and they oppressed his mind next day. Sorrel and the others, when he joined them at the Spottswood, were laughing at their experience at the theatre the night before. Harrison the scout had won his wager, playing Cassio in a performance of
Othello.

“He's an actor, all right,” Sorrel declared. “You could tell he'd been on the stage before. But the whole thing was the damnedest shenanigan you ever saw, Currain. Harrison was drunk, and so was Othello, and I'd wager Desdemona had had more than a lady should!” He laughed at the memory, then added more seriously: “But I didn't like it. I asked some questions afterward. Harrison's not only been drunk for a week, but he's been gambling at every faro bank in town. The General agrees with me that he's not to be trusted, so we're not taking him to Tennessee.”

“The New York papers knew almost as soon as we did about this move we're making,” Trav remembered. “Harrison mav have sold us out, may be working for both sides.”

“Someone sold us out,” Sorrel agreed. “The only thing they don't know is whether Pickett is going with us.” He laughed. “And I don't know that myself. But we can't prove anything on Harrison. I just paid him off and let him go.”

Longstreet finished on Saturday what military business kept him in Richmond and went to Petersburg to spend Sunday with Louisa. Sorrel would stay here till Alexander's artillery entrained; Trav would join Longstreet in Petersburg on Monday and go on with him from there. Tag ends of business, the procuring and loading of munitions and supplies and the endless problems involved in moving thirteen thousand fighting men over eight or nine hundred miles of inadequate railroad, kept him late Saturday night at the Spottswood. At home, except for a gas jet burning low in the hall, the house was dark; but Mill was waiting to let him in. Trav remembered that if Nig were loaded on the cars here in Richmond, he would have to be unloaded and led across Petersburg to be put aboard the Weldon train; so he told the Negro to ride the big horse to Petersburg tomorrow, taking an easy gait.

“He doesn't like the cars,” he said. “You can help in putting him aboard.”

“Y‘all better tek me along, Marse Trav. You need me tuh tek keer o' you.”

Trav shook his head. “I need you here, taking care of my son, my family. With you here, I don't have to worry about them.” Mill hesitated, so that Trav thought there was some urgency he wished to try, but in the end he assented and said good night.

Trav slept late next morning. When he came downstairs Enid had gone to church, leaving word that Tilda had invited them all to dinner and that she and the children would meet him there; and he had a momentary sense of guilt because he had not called on Tilda before now.

Enid and the children were at Tilda's before him. Dolly was as lovely as ever. Streean had gained weight till he was as softly plump as a force-fed goose. But in Tilda, Trav saw something new, and he led her to talk about the work she did and the problems she had to meet and solve.