When the service was over, there was much gathering about the young preacher, and handshaking. Through all "Lias had slept. His mother started toward him; but the minister managed to whisper to her, "Leave him to me." When the congregation had pa.s.sed out, Dokesbury shook "Lias.
The boy woke, partially sobered, and his face fell before the preacher"s eyes.
"Come, my boy, let"s go home." Arm in arm they went out into the street, where a number of scoffers had gathered to have a laugh at the abashed boy; but Harold Dokesbury"s strong arm steadied his steps, and something in his face checked the crowd"s hilarity. Silently they cleared the way, and the two pa.s.sed among them and went home.
The minister saw clearly the things which he had to combat in his community, and through this one victim he determined to fight the general evil. The people with whom he had to deal were children who must be led by the hand. The boy lying in drunken sleep upon his bed was no worse than the rest of them. He was an epitome of the evil, as his parents were of the sorrows, of the place.
He could not talk to Elias. He could not lecture him. He would only be dashing his words against the acc.u.mulated evil of years of bondage as the ripples of a summer sea beat against a stone wall. It was not the wickedness of this boy he was fighting or even the wrong-doing of Mt.
Hope. It was the aggregation of the evils of the fathers, the grandfathers, the masters and mistresses of these people. Against this what could talk avail?
The boy slept on, and the afternoon pa.s.sed heavily away. Aunt Caroline was finding solace in her pipe, and Stephen Gray sulked in moody silence beside the hearth. Neither of them joined their guest at evening service.
He went, however. It was hard to face those people again after the events of the morning. He could feel them covertly nudging each other and grinning as he went up to the pulpit. He chided himself for the momentary annoyance it caused him. Were they not like so many naughty, irresponsible children?
The service pa.s.sed without unpleasantness, save that he went home with an annoyingly vivid impression of a yellow girl with red ribbons on her hat, who pretended to be impressed by his sermon and made eyes at him from behind her handkerchief.
On the way to his room that night, as he pa.s.sed Stephen Gray, the old man whispered huskily, "It"s de fus" time "Lias evah done dat."
It was the only word he had spoken since morning.
A sound sleep refreshed Dokesbury, and restored the tone to his overtaxed nerves. When he came out in the morning, Elias was already in the kitchen. He too had slept off his indisposition, but it had been succeeded by a painful embarra.s.sment that proved an effectual barrier to all intercourse with him. The minister talked lightly and amusingly, but the boy never raised his eyes from his plate, and only spoke when he was compelled to answer some direct questions.
Harold Dokesbury knew that unless he could overcome this reserve, his power over the youth was gone. He bent every effort to do it.
"What do you say to a turn down the street with me?" he asked as he rose from breakfast.
"Lias shook his head.
"What! You haven"t deserted me already?"
The older people had gone out, but young Gray looked furtively about before he replied: "You know I ain"t fittin" to go out with you--aftah--aftah--yestiddy."
A dozen appropriate texts rose in the preacher"s mind, but he knew that it was not a preaching time, so he contented himself with saying,--
"Oh, get out! Come along!"
"No, I cain"t. I cain"t. I wisht I could! You needn"t think I"s ashamed, "cause I ain"t. Plenty of "em git drunk, an" I don"t keer nothin" "bout dat"--this in a defiant tone.
"Well, why not come along then?"
"I tell you I cain"t. Don"t ax me no mo". It ain"t on my account I won"t go. It"s you."
"Me! Why, I want you to go."
"I know you does, but I mustn"t. Cain"t you see that dey"d be glad to say dat--dat you was in cahoots wif me an" you tuk yo" dram on de sly?"
"I don"t care what they say so long as it isn"t true. Are you coming?"
"No, I ain"t."
He was perfectly determined, and Dokesbury saw that there was no use arguing with him. So with a resigned "All right!" he strode out the gate and up the street, thinking of the problem he had to solve.
There was good in Elias Gray, he knew. It was a shame that it should be lost. It would be lost unless he were drawn strongly away from the paths he was treading. But how could it be done? Was there no point in his mind that could be reached by what was other than evil? That was the thing to be found out. Then he paused to ask himself if, after all, he were not trying to do too much,--trying, in fact, to play Providence to Elias. He found himself involuntarily wanting to shift the responsibility of planning for the youth. He wished that something entirely independent of his intentions would happen.
Just then something did happen. A piece of soft mud hurled from some unknown source caught the minister square in the chest, and spattered over his clothes. He raised his eyes and glanced about quickly, but no one was in sight. Whoever the foe was, he was securely ambushed.
"Thrown by the hand of a man," mused Dokesbury, "prompted by the malice of a child."
He went on his way, finished his business, and returned to the house.
"La, Brothah Dokesbury!" exclaimed Aunt Caroline, "what"s de mattah "f you" shu"t bosom?"
"Oh, that"s where one of our good citizens left his card."
"You don" mean to say none o" dem low-life scoun"els----"
"I don"t know who did it. He took particular pains to keep out of sight."
""Lias!" the old woman cried, turning on her son, "wha" "d you let Brothah Dokesbury go off by hisse"f fu? Why n"t you go "long an" tek keer o" him?"
The old lady stopped even in the midst of her tirade, as her eyes took in the expression on her son"s face.
"I"ll kill some o" dem d.a.m.n----"
""Lias!"
""Scuse me, Mistah Dokesbury, but I feel lak I"ll bus" ef I don"t "spress myse"f. It makes me so mad. Don"t you go out o" hyeah no mo"
"dout me. I"ll go "long an" I"ll brek somebody"s haid wif a stone."
""Lias! how you talkin" fo" de ministah?"
"Well, dat"s whut I"ll do, "cause I kin outth"ow any of "em an" I know dey hidin"-places."
"I"ll be glad to accept your protection," said Dokesbury.
He saw his advantage, and was thankful for the mud,--the one thing that without an effort restored the easy relations between himself and his protege.
Ostensibly these relations were reversed, and Elias went out with the preacher as a guardian and protector. But the minister was laying his nets. It was on one of these rambles that he broached to "Lias a subject which he had been considering for some time.
"Look here, "Lias," he said, "what are you going to do with that big back yard of yours?"
"Oh, nothin". "Tain"t no "count to raise nothin" in."
"It may not be fit for vegetables, but it will raise something."
"What?"
"Chickens. That"s what."