"What kind of a job?" asked the visitor, as they shook hands. "I need one bad enough, but you know there ain"t n.o.body in Canaan would gimme one, Joe."
Joe pushed him into one of the two chairs which completed the furniture of his office. "Yes, there is. I"ve got an idea--"
"First," broke in Mr. Fear, fingering his shapeless hat and fixing his eyes upon it with embarra.s.sment,--"first lemme say what I come here to say. I--well--" His embarra.s.sment increased and he paused, rubbing the hat between his hands.
"About this job," Joe began. "We can fix it so--"
"No," said Happy. "You lemme go on. I didn"t mean fer to cause you no trouble when I lit on that loud-mouth, "Nashville"; I never thought they"d git me, or you"d be dragged in. But I jest couldn"t stand him no longer. He had me all wore out--all evening long a-hintin" and sniffin" and wearin" that kind of a high-smile "cause they made so much fuss over you. And then when we got clear in town he come out with it!
Said you was too quiet to suit HIM--said he couldn"t see nothin" TO you! "Well," I says to myself, "jest let him go on, jest one more," I says, "then he gits it." And he did. Said you tromped on his foot on purpose, said he knowed it,--when the Lord-a"mightiest fool on earth knows you never tromped on no one! Said you was one of the po"rest young sports he ever see around a place like the Beach. You see, he thought you was jest one of them fool "Bloods" that come around raisin"
a rumpus, and didn"t know you was our friend and belonged out there, the same as me or Mike hisself. "Go on," I says to myself, "jest one more!" "HE better go home to his mamma," he says; "he"ll git in trouble if he don"t. Somebody "ll soak him if he hangs around in MY company. _I_ don"t like his WAYS." Then I HAD to do it. There jest wasn"t nothin" LEFT--but I wouldn"t of done you no harm by it--"
"You didn"t do me any harm, Happy."
"I mean your repitation."
"I didn"t have one--so nothing in the world could harm it. About your getting some work, now--"
"I"ll listen," said Happy, rather suspiciously.
"You see," Joe went on, growing red, "I need a sort of janitor here--"
"What fer?" Mr. Fear interrupted, with some shortness.
"To look after the place."
"You mean these two rooms?"
"There"s a stairway, too," Joe put forth, quickly. "It wouldn"t be any sinecure, Happy. You"d earn your money; don"t be afraid of that!"
Mr. Fear straightened up, his burden of embarra.s.sment gone from him, transferred to the other"s shoulders.
"There always was a yellow streak in you, Joe," he said, firmly.
"You"re no good as a liar except when you"re jokin". A lot you need a janitor! You had no business to pay my fine; you"d ort of let me worked it out. Do you think my eyes ain"t good enough to see how much you needed the money, most of all right now when you"re tryin" to git started? If I ever take a cent from you, I hope the hand I hold out fer it "ll rot off."
"Now don"t say that, Happy."
"I don"t want a job, nohow!" said Mr. Fear, going to the door; "I don"t want to work. There"s plenty ways fer me to git along without that.
But I"ve said what I come here to say, and I"ll say one thing more.
Don"t you worry about gittin" law practice. Mike says you"re goin" to git all you want--and if there ain"t no other way, why, a few of us "ll go out and MAKE some fer ye!"
These prophecies and promises, over which Joe chuckled at first, with his head c.o.c.ked to one side, grew very soon, to his amazement, to wear a supernatural similarity to actual fulfilment. His friends brought him their own friends, such as had sinned against the laws of Canaan, those under the ban of the sheriff, those who had struck in anger, those who had stolen at night, those who owed and could not pay, those who lived by the dice, and to his other t.i.tles to notoriety was added that of defender of the poor and wicked. He found his hands full, especially after winning his first important case--on which occasion Canaan thought the jury mad, and was indignant with the puzzled Judge, who could not see just how it had happened.
Joe did not stop at that. He kept on winning cases, clearing the innocent and lightening the burdens of the guilty; he became the most dangerous attorney for the defence in Canaan; his honorable brethren, accepting the popular view of him, held him in personal contempt but feared him professionally; for he proved that he knew more law than they thought existed; nor could any trick him--failing which, many tempers were lost, but never Joe"s. His practice was not all criminal, as shown by the peevish outburst of the eminent Buckalew (the Squire"s nephew, esteemed the foremost lawyer in Canaan), "Before long, there won"t be any use trying to foreclose a mortgage or collect a note--unless this shyster gets himself in jail!"
The wrath of Judge Martin Pike was august--there was a kind of sublimity in its immenseness--on a day when it befell that the shyster stood betwixt him and money.
That was a monstrous task--to stand between these two and separate them, to hold back the hand of Martin Pike from what it had reached out to grasp. It was in the matter of some tax-t.i.tles which the magnate had acquired, and, in court, Joe treated the case with such horrifying simplicity that it seemed almost credible that the great man had counted upon the ignorance and besottedness of Joe"s client--a hard-drinking, disreputable old farmer--to get his land away from him without paying for it. Now, as every one knew such a thing to be ludicrously impossible, it was at once noised abroad in Canaan that Joe had helped to swindle Judge Pike out of a large sum of money--it was notorious that the shyster could bamboozle court and jury with his tricks; and it was felt that Joe Louden was getting into very deep waters indeed. THIS was serious: if the young man did not LOOK OUT, he might find himself in the penitentiary.
The Tocsin paragraphed him with a fine regularity after this, usually opening with a Walrus-and-the-Carpenter gravity: "The time has come when we must speak of a certain matter frankly," or, "At last the time has arrived when the demoralization of the bar caused by a certain criminal lawyer must be dealt with as it is and without gloves." Once when Joe had saved a half-witted negro from "the extreme penalty" for murder, the Tocsin had declared, with great originality: "This is just the kind of thing that causes mobs and justifies them. If we are to continue to permit the worst cla.s.s of malefactors to escape the consequences of their crimes through the unwholesome dexterities and the shifty manipulations and technicalities of a certain criminal lawyer, the time will come when an outraged citizenry may take the enforcement of the law in its own hands. Let us call a spade a spade.
If Canaan"s streets ever echo with the tread of a mob, the fault lies upon the head of Joseph Louden, who has once more brought about a miscarriage of justice...."
Joe did not move into a larger office; he remained in the little room with its one window and its fine view of the jail; his clients were nearly all poor, and many of his fees quite literally nominal. Tatters and rags came up the narrow stairway to his door--tatters and rags and pitiful fineries: the bleared, the sodden, the flaunting and rouged, the furtive and wary, some in rags, some in tags, and some--the sorriest--in velvet gowns. With these, the distressed, the wrong-doers, the drunken, the dirty, and the very poor, his work lay and his days and nights were spent.
Ariel had told Roger Tabor that in time Joe might come to be what the town thought him, if it gave him no other chance. Only its dinginess and evil surrounded him; no respectable house was open to him; the barrooms--except that of the "National House"--welcomed him gratefully and admiringly. Once he went to church, on a pleasant morning when nice girls wear pretty spring dresses; it gave him a thrill of delight to see them, to be near clean, good people once more. Inadvertently, he took a seat by his step-mother, who rose with a slight rustle of silk and moved to another pew; and it happened, additionally, that this was the morning that the minister, fired by the Tocsin"s warnings, had chosen to preach on the subject of Joe himself.
The outcast returned to his own kind. No lady spoke to him upon the street. Mamie Pike had pa.s.sed him with averted eyes since her first meeting with him, but the shunning and snubbing of a young man by a pretty girl have never yet, if done in a certain way, prevented him from continuing to be in love with her. Mamie did it in the certain way. Joe did not wince, therefore it hurt all the more, for blows from which one cringes lose much of their force.
The town dog had been given a bad name, painted solid black from head to heel. He was a storm centre of scandal; the entrance to his dingy stairway was in square view of the "National House," and the result is imaginable. How many of Joe"s clients, especially those sorriest of the velvet gowns, were conjectured to ascend his stairs for reasons more convivial than legal! Yes, he lived with his own kind, and, so far as the rest of Canaan was concerned, might as well have worn the scarlet letter on his breast or branded on his forehead.
When he went about the streets he was made to feel his condition by the elaborate avoidance, yet furtive attention, of every respectable person he met; and when he came home to his small rooms and shut the door behind him, he was as one who has been hissed and shamed in public and runs to bury his hot face in his pillow. He petted his mongrel extravagantly (well he might!), and would sit with him in his rooms at night, holding long converse with him, the two alone together. The dog was not his only confidant. There came to be another, a more and more frequent partner to their conversations, at last a familiar spirit.
This third came from a brown jug which Joe kept on a shelf in his bedroom, a vessel too frequently replenished. When the day"s work was done he shut himself up, drank alone and drank hard. Sometimes when the jug ran low and the night was late he would go out for a walk with his dog, and would awake in his room the next morning not remembering where he had gone or how he had come home. Once, after such a lapse of memory, he woke amazed to find himself at Beaver Beach, whither, he learned from the red-bearded man, Happy Fear had brought him, having found him wandering dazedly in a field near by. These lapses grew more frequent, until there occurred that which was one of the strange things of his life.
It was a June night, a little more than two years after his return to Canaan, and the Tocsin had that day announced the approaching marriage of Eugene Bantry and his employer"s daughter. Joe ate nothing during the day, and went through his work clumsily, visiting the bedroom shelf at intervals. At ten in the evening he went out to have the jug refilled, but from the moment he left his door and the fresh air struck his face, he had no clear knowledge of what he did or of what went on about him until he woke in his bed the next morning.
And yet, whatever little part of the soul of him remained, that night, still undulled, not numbed, but alive, was in some strange manner lifted out of its pain towards a strange delight. His body was an automaton, his mind in bondage, yet there was a still, small consciousness in him which knew that in his wandering something incredible and unexpected was happening. What this was he did not know, could not see, though his eyes were open, could not have told himself any more than a baby could tell why it laughs, but it seemed something so beautiful and wonderful that the night became a night of perfume, its breezes bearing the music of harps and violins, while nightingales sang from the maples that bordered the streets of Canaan.
X
THE TRYST
He woke to the light of morning amazed and full of a strange wonder because he did not know what had amazed him. For a little while after his eyes opened, he lay quite motionless; then he lifted his head slightly and shook it with some caution. This had come to be custom.
The operation a.s.sured him of the worst; the room swam round him, and, with a faint groan, he let his head fall back upon the pillow. But he could not sleep again; pain stung its way through his heart as memory began to come back to him, not of the preceding night--that was all blank,--but realization that the girl of whom he had dreamed so long was to be married. That his dreams had been quite hopeless was no balm to his hurt.
A chime of bells sounded from a church steeple across the Square, ringing out in a.s.sured righteousness, summoning the good people who maintained them to come and sit beneath them or be taken to task; and they fell so dismally upon Joe"s ear that he bestirred himself and rose, to the delight of his mongrel, who leaped upon him joyfully. An hour later, or thereabout, the pair emerged from the narrow stairway and stood for a moment, blinking in the fair sunshine, apparently undecided which way to go. The church bells were silent; there was no breeze; the air trembled a little with the deep pipings of the organ across the Square, and, save for that, the town was very quiet. The paths which crossed the Court-house yard were flecked with steady shadow, the strong young foliage of the maples not moving, having the air of observing the Sabbath with propriety. There were benches here and there along the walks, and to one of these Joe crossed, and sat down. The mongrel, at his master"s feet, rolled on his back in morning ecstasy, ceased abruptly to roll and began to scratch his ear with a hind foot intently. A tiny hand stretched to pat his head, and the dog licked it appreciatively. It belonged to a hard-washed young lady of six (in starchy, white frills and new, pink ribbons), who had run ahead of her mother, a belated church-goer; and the mongrel charmed her.
"Will you give me this dog?" she asked, without any tedious formalities.
Involuntarily, she departed before receiving a reply. The mother, a red-faced matron whom Joe recognized as a sister of Mrs. Louden"s, consequently his step-aunt, swooped at the child with a rush and rustle of silk, and bore her on violently to her duty. When they had gone a little way the matron"s voice was heard in sharp reproof; the child, held by one wrist and hurried along on tiptoe, staring back over one shoulder at Joe, her eyes wide, and her mouth the shape of the "O" she was ejaculating.
The dog looked up with wistful inquiry at his master, who c.o.c.ked an eyebrow at him in return, wearing much the same expression. The mother and child disappeared within the church doors and left the Square to the two. Even the hotel showed no signs of life, for the wise men were not allowed to foregather on Sundays. The organ had ceased to stir the air and all was in quiet, yet a quiet which, for Louden, was not peace.
He looked at his watch and, without intending it, spoke the hour aloud: "A quarter past eleven." The sound of his own voice gave him a little shock; he rose without knowing why, and, as he did so, it seemed to him that he heard close to his ear another voice, a woman"s, troubled and insistent, but clear and sweet, saying:
"REMEMBER! ACROSS MAIN STREET BRIDGE AT NOON!"
It was so distinct that he started and looked round. Then he laughed.
"I"ll be seeing circus parades next!" His laughter fled, for, louder than the ringing in his ears, unmistakably came the strains of a far-away bra.s.s band which had no existence on land or sea or in the waters under the earth.
"Here!" he said to the mongrel. "We need a walk, I think. Let"s you and me move on before the camels turn the corner!"
The music followed him to the street, where he turned westward toward the river, and presently, as he walked on, fanning himself with his straw hat, it faded and was gone. But the voice he had heard returned.
"REMEMBER! ACROSS MAIN STREET BRIDGE AT NOON!" it said again, close to his ear.
This time he did not start. "All right," he answered, wiping his forehead; "if you"ll let me alone, I"ll be there."
At a dingy saloon corner, near the river, a shabby little man greeted him heartily and petted the mongrel. "I"m mighty glad you didn"t go, after all, Joe," he added, with a brightening face.