The Titans (14 page)

politics, Pinker-Major--but I made it clear to you earlier that I like police bullying even less. What you permitted tonight was one hundred percent illegal." Again Pinkerton's face reddened above his beard. "I did not permit it If I'd known about it, I'd have put a stop to it." Jephtha shrugged. "I said you should be inside the theater." "Yes, I remember," Pinkerton muttered. "Still-I can't fathom why you risked your neck. Why didn't you fetch me instead?" Jephtha answered quickly: There was no time. I 198The Detectives thought Lamont might be dead before I got to him. Dead, or spirited out the back way." "There's no connection between you and Lamont except your feelings about Dorn?" Jephtha hesitated; decided: "Yes, but it's personal, not political. That's all I'm going to say about it." "That's plenty!" Miller exclaimed. "Chief, he probably is mixed up with the secesh crowd!" "Shut your mouth. Kent's no more of a secessionist than Abe Lincoln. If he says the connection's personal, I'll take his word." Miller started to protest "I said drop it. Mr. Kent happens to be a reporter for the New York Union" Miller understood instantly. "Oh, Jesus." "Exactly what went on down here?" Pinkerton said to Jephtha. "After- A deep breath, "comaf I bluffed Mr. Miller into thinking I worked for you, I tried to stop Dorn from beating Lamont. Dorn came at me with a knife and those knuckle-dusters lying there. I think he meant to kill me." Jephtha's mouth quirked, but it was hardly a smile. "I didn't stop to inquire. I shot him instead." His mind raced ahead to the question of how to get Lamont away. In a bland tone, he added: "I'll be glad to report the whole story to a magistrate if you feel-was "No!" Pinkerton said. "I'll certainly put it in my next dispatch to New York. Unless-was The pause suggested a possible bargain. Pinkerton was quick to respond: "Unless what?" "Unless you'd prefer to hush up the whole matter." "You know I would." The Titans199 'Then have Mr. Miller call a hack. Oh, yes-and try to find some ammonia salts upstairs. If we can wake Lamont and take him out thrdugh the alley without attracting attention I'll see that he gets back to his wif- his hotel. He's staying at the National." "That's right around the block." "Thaf s right, Mr. Miller. But I doubt we could protect the major's reputation-or keep his presence in Washington a secret for very long-if I walked Lamont to the hotel in the condition he's in. There'd be too many questions." Pinkerton nodded: "There are still people all over the place outside." "Then my solution's the best one, Major. You help me get him out and I'll forget I met you or Mr. Dorn." Pinkerton chewed his lip. "No dispatches?" "None." "Can I rely on your word?" "Do you have any other choice?" "No." "Of course I'd like to know who you're working for-was "That has no part in any bargain we make!" "I suppose not. I'd still suggest you get out of town and take your agents with you. Even if the man for whom you're doing these little favors is in the cabinet, it can't help your career-or his-if you're found out The longer you stay, the greater the risk that you will be found out. Even if I keep quiet" After a moment Pinkerton said softly, "I agree." He glanced sharply at Jephtha. "You really must have a powerful reason for wanting to help Lamont" "I do." It unsettled him to realize he might be facing his former wife within a very short time. He felt the old hatred stir-and fought it down. He noticed Lamont sitting up straighter. Blinking as if trying to clear his head. He pointed: 200The Detectives "We'd better look after him. Are we agreed?" "We are," Pinkerton said. "Miller will drive the hack and see you make it safely through the back door of the National." "Lamont should be seen by a doctor." I'll hire a nigger boy in the street to find one. IT send the doctor to the hotel. Miller, get going! And don't say one unnecessary word if "you want to keep working for me." StiDo stunned by the bargain, Miller left, shutting the door behind him. Jephtha walked to one of the costume racks-each step was a little easier now-and drew down a dress shirt. He carried the shirt to the chair where the groggy actor was tied. "Lamont?" The brown eyes flickered open. "Which-what?" "I've made arrangements to take you back to your hotel." "Thank-was Lamont's tongue crawled across his cracked lower lip. "Thank you." "I've got to clean you up so we can leave the theater without arousing too much curiosity. This may hurt." "Go-ahead." He winced as Jephtha began to sponge away the blood and mucus on his face. But he made no sound. Miller returned with a bottle of ammonia salts from one of the dressing rooms. "The coppers cleared the theater," he reported. "Backstage too?" Pinkerton asked. "Yes. There are some men in the alley-w "How many?" "Eight or ten. About half of em are niggers." "The hack's on the way?" "It'll be here any minute." Jephtha unstoppered the ammonia bottle. He passed The Titans201 it back and forth under Lamont's nose. The actor's head jerked. He snorted, then coughed violently. Jephtha slapped his back. The coughing subsided. Jephtha untied the knots in the rope. He and Miller lifted the actor to his feet. Allan Pinkerton darted into the corridor and walked rapidly toward the stairs, his footsteps echoing. Jephtha could have embroiled Pinkerton in a scandal and the detective knew it. He was ambitious-probably the main reason Jephtha's suggested trade-off had been accepted. He'd soon know whether the next step of his scheme would be equally successful. "Hold him, Miller-was "I've got him." Jephftia took Lamont's other arm. The actor groaned as they helped him along the dim hall to the stairway. The hackney began to roll. Outside, the alley loungers shouted questions at the mysterious bearded gentleman who had taken charge of loading the carriage. Through the window, Jephtha watched Pinkerton move away from the men and disappear in the dark. Miller obeyed Jephtha's orders and drove slowly. Even so, the tide would take only a few minutes. The prospect of seeing Fan made Jephtha increasingly nervous. He was afraid of rejection; worried that his temper might betray him- On the seat facing him, Lamont clung to the wall strap. Though his face was reasonably clean, he looked bleary and sick. Jephtha passed the salts bottle back and forth under his nose. 202The Detectives Lamont's eyes watered. He drew several deep breaths. The hack turned out of the alley. The actor's face was alternately patterned by gaslight and shadow. "Feeling any better, Lamont?" "Some. You have me at a disadvantage. I don't know who you are." "Not one of your crowd, you can count on that. Let's just say I don't like thug tactics." "Yes, but-was Lamont grimaced. "comI'd like to thank you by name." A moment's silence. "My name is Kent. Jephtha Kent." Lamont's eyes opened wide. Jephtha thought the actor might faint. He didn't. But his mouth hung open a good ten seconds before he spoke. "Not Fan's-?" "Yes. I'm no particular friend of yours. But I couldn't stand by and see you killed just for speaking your mind." Especially when helping you promised to get me where I want to go. A puzzling thing happened then. Lamont lost his stupefied look-and smiled. "Kent," he murmured. "Right like that-was A gesture. "Just when I-was A chuckle. "Remarkable." The smile and the curious words bothered Jephtha. If his position and Lamont's had been reversed-if he'd been-the one encountering Fan's first husband-he doubted he'd have been amused, no matter how much the other fellow had helped him. The light of a saloon washed the interior of the hack. Lamont's face was visible for a moment. He was studying Jephtha. "Well, Kent, considering my marital status and your politics, what you did was certainly damned decent." He rubbed his curly brown hair. "That bull-shouldered The Titans203 young man worked me over nicely. What happened to him? I was pretty foggy at the time-was "I got him away from you." "Do you know who he was?" Carefully, Jephtha said, "Just someone who didn't care for your choice of music, I expect." "I vaguely remember a gray-haired chap. And a fellow with a beard-was "Acquaintances of the man who beat you. They helped me calm him down." "Devil of a lot of noise, as I recall. A shot or two. It's all damned confused-was Jephtha kept quiet. Lamont sighed; appeared to relax: "Well, I owe you a great many thanks. All differences aside, let me offer them. Sincerely." He extended his hand. Jephtha shook it. Despite what he'd been through. Lamont's grip was strong. His expression was cordial. Yet at that very moment, Jephtha had the feeling Lamont had begun to- What was the right word for it? To pretend. To art. Jephtha admitted to himself that it was irrational for an offer of thanks to arouse suspicion. Yet he was suspicious. He couldn't shake off the conviction that the thanks were insincere. Lamont's lids drooped as if he were drowsing. Again the exterior circumstances were at odds with Jephtha's thoughts: He's alert. Alert and on edge- Why? Because Fan was my wife? No she's his wife now. I'm no threat to him. Then why is he tense-and acting as if he isn't? Or is it all my imagination? Because I'm the one who's uneasy-his 204The Detectives The unanswered questions only heightened his nervousness as the hack creaked and lurched through the rutted street, bringing him steadily closer to the National Hotel. CHAPTER VH O Absalom! THE BACK DOOR OF THE National was well known to Jephtha Kent The door, and ones like it in other hotels, helped the capital conduct its private business. Jephtha had long ago learned that ten minutes loitering in an alley could produce more news about who was seeing whom than hours spent wandering through the departmental buildings. He helped Lamont from the carriage and through the door. An elderly black porter dozing on a stool roused and gaped at Lamont's battered face: "Mr. Kent, that's one of our guests!" "You're right, Hiram." The stooped Negro shook his head in amazement. "Lamont, are you certain you can walk?" The actor's skin was still as pale as parchment, Just-let me have your arm." He took hold. Jephtha turned to the porter. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone you saw us come in." To Miller, who was standing in the doorway: "Tip him a dollar. Major Allen won't miss the money." Scowling, Miller dug in his pocket and paid. Hiram grinned. Jephtha knew the porter could have been well off if he'd saved every tip he received from a backstairs visitor. But Miller's dollar would go where the rest of the tips went-to support Hiram's church. The porter was the ordained pastor of a small congregation of the forty-five-year-old African Methodist Episcopal 206O Absalom! denomination. He worked at the National six days a week, and on Sunday occupied the pulpit of a cheaply built but scrupulously maintained frame sanctuary in Negro Hill. Miller went out to the hack as Hiram closed the alley door. Jephtha and Lamont started slowly up the dim back staircase. After just a few steps, Lamont was breathing hard. So was Jephtha. He was feeling his age and the after-effects of the fight with Dorn. Lamont clung to his arm as the two men negotiated the hundred and eighty degree turn at the first landing. Jephtha decided his suspicions in the hack had been imagination after all. Lamont had behaved oddly because he'd been badly beaten. Jephtha reached that conclusion because he felt none too clear-headed himself. They stopped by the door to the second floor corridor. "What's your room number?" "Three-o-six." "Just one more flight" "I can make it," Lamont assured him. On the third floor Lamont let go of his arm while Jephtha eased the door open and studied the hallway. Empty. He motioned Lamont forward. The actor took a step and started to fall. Jephtha grabbed him in time. Lamont reddened, mumbling an apology. They walked slowly along the gas-lit corridor. "Got to say it again, Kent. This is-damned white of you. Got to. do something to pay you back for-was "Here's the room," Jephtha interrupted. There was a tight feeling across his chest. He almost wished he'd left the Sharps at the theater- Don't think that way. Think of why you're here. To learn about your sons. You can't do it unless you hold your temper! He knocked. Heard footsteps. Then a voice that The Titans207 made him catch his breath; it sounded exactly as he remembered it: "Edward?" Still laboring for breath, Lamont couldn't reply. "Edward? Are you there?" "With a friend," Jephtha said. He heard her stunned intake of breath. He could imagine the incredulous look in her slanted gray-green eyes. The wait seemed interminable. At last the bolt rattled. The door opened. White-faced, Fan clutched at the bosom of her velvet robe. "I thought it was your voice. But I couldn't believe-was Her eyes moved to her husband. "Oh, dear God! Edward -I" "He's all right. Help me get him inside." She stared at Jephtha, numb and motionless. "I tell you he's all right! We just need to put him to bed-was Lamont gasped for air. He grabbed Jephtha with both hands, obviously dizzy. Fan's eyes grew ugly: "Who hurt him? You?" Caught in the awkward position of trying to support the actor in the doorway, Jephtha's reason deserted him. Except for the burden of Lamont, he would have struck her- Stupid bitch! But he didn't say it aloud. At the end of the sleepless night spent reading the Testament, he'd vowed he wouldn't let years of accumulated hatred drive him to one more act he'd regret. He tried to remember Fan was confused and terrified. "Don't be a damn fool," he said. "If you aren't going to help, at least move out of the way." She stepped back. Bearing most of Lamont's weight on his forearms, he dragged the actor into the suite's gas-lit parlor. He saw no one besides Fan. 208O Absalom! She had sufficient presence of mind to close and "bolt the door. Point- "In there." But her eyes were riveted on her husband's bruised face. Jephtha breathed loudly from the effort to support Lamont The actor was nearly unconscious again. He- muttered. Spittle drooled from one corner of his mouth. "What-what happened to him, Jephtha?" "I'll tell you after we take care of him. Hurry, will you please?" She rushed into the bedroom, folded the coverlet back and lit the gas as Jephtha hauled Lamont to the bed and lowered him. Lamont groaned; arched his back. Pain wrenched his face. Jephtha smelled the linen. Fresh; clean- The conjugal bed. He fought away the shameful images of Fan and the actor that filled his mind. He lifted Lamont's legs. Fan arranged the pillows. Her movements had a jerky quality. She wouldn't look at him. Jephtha eased Lamont's head down. The actor sighed. He knew he was safe. His eyes opened again. He searched for Jephtha. "Kent? Got to-make sure you know-how much I appreciate-appreciate-was It trailed off to a mumble. "Fetch some whiskey if you have any," Jephtha said to Fan. She
disappeared into the parlor. He heard a decanter clink against a glass. Gingerly, he sat on the edge of the bed, staring at his hands. Fan returned. The anger that had burst loose when she accused him was gone. He was able to face her calmly. Her face was thinner than he remembered. Drawn. He saw a few gray hairs among the fair ones. As she poured the strong-smelling liquor, she spilled some on her robe. The Titans209 "I was at the theater," Jenhtha began to explain as she handed him the glass. "I went on behalf of-just a minute. Lamont? Can you hear me?" He gently raised the actor's head with one hand. "Drink this." He managed to get most of the whiskey into Lamont's mouth. The actor swallowed rapidly. Jeohtha passed the empty glass to Fan and lowered Lamont's head to the pillow. When he pulled his left hand away, he noticed his fingertips bore faint stains. Something in him took pleasure in realizing Lamont dyed his hair. Conscious of Fan waiting for the rest of the explanation, he resumed: "I went to Canterbury Hall to get a story for the paper. I'd heard there might be trouble." "I knew Edward was involved in something. But he wouldn't give me any particulars. Or allow me to go the performance-was "He was smart. Actually, all he did was ask the Southerners in the hall to stand and sing 'Dixie's Land." Rowdies from the other side started to tear the place apart. A couple of them dragged him to the basement of the theater to teach him a lesson, but some friends and I got him away before he was hurt too badly." Fan relaxed a little. "I thank you for that, Jephtha. Of course, I knew you were in Washington-was He couldn't keep bitterness from his voice: "And I'm sure you're astonished I helped him at all." Softly: "Yes." "I didn't do it entirely to be a good Samaritan. I had another reason. I'll tell you about it in the parlor." He stood up. Lamont was asleep, his face smooth, his breathing regular. Fan's eyes kept moving back to his face. "I think he looks worse than he feels," Jephtha said. "But there's a doctor coming just to make certain." "You say he sang Dixie's Land"--?" 210O Absalom! Jephtha nodded, angered again by the pride that showed in her eyes. Then a new thought jolted her: "Will the police arrest him for-?" "I doubt it. Singing has yet to be declared an act of treason. Don't worry yourself." Without thinking, he touched her arm. The familiarity made her draw away. He took the glass and decanter from her hands and deposited them on the bedside table. As they started for the parlor, he added: "When he wakes up, I'd advise you to keep him indoors a day or so. He won't be the most popular fellow in town." "It'll be difficult for me to dictate to Edward," she said. Jephtha closed the bedroom door. On the parlor's far side, he saw another. were the boys sleeping in there? He realized Fan was still speaking: "comhe's quite fervent about the cause. So am I." An awkward pause. This was very hard. How did you speak to a woman with whom you'd lived for the better part of a decade-and from whom you'd parted as an enemy? He caught himself glancing at her robe; remembering the contours of her body on their wedding night. He remembered the way her eyes had shone with joy during the ceremony. He had been equally joyful. He thought of quiet breakfasts together, before Gideon was born. The feel of her sleeping close to him during chilly autumn nights. He recalled her struggle to overcome her loathing for the sex act in order to conceive the children they both wanted. Sinking down into a chair-he was still stiff and pain- ridden-he felt sad and empty. He was flawed; so was she. They had both lost much that was good. But what should he say to her? He was uncertain. Fan paced, equally uncomfortable. She kept glancing The Titans211 at Lamont's door. Do anything you can to make this less difficult, he thought. She deserves it. He chose his words with care: "I can understand your comment about restraining your husband. His courage is obvious. Unfortunately, he almost got himself killed because of it." Fan stared at him. "That was the case when you helped papa's black wench escape." No, Jephtha prayed. Not the past. He made an effort to shrug off the remark: "Well, I'm not quite so zealous any longer. I still believe slavery's wrong. And secession. But-was He tried to smile. "comrm somewhat less fierce in other ways." Liar. Last night you were still thinking of hurting her. Even a few minutes ago, you hated her as much as ever- But he concealed that truth, working to put her at ease: "I'm not sure why it's happened. Maybe age has worn me away like water wears away a stone." Another tentative smile at his own expense. "I'm not exactly young any longer." She sat down on the settee in the window bay, her shoulders drooping. "I'm not either, Jephtha. I-I must say you're looking quite fit." "Thank you. So are you." "Working for the family paper apparently agrees with you." He shrugged again; leaned back. He was tired, and wanted to get on to the central question. But something warned Hun to go slowly: "Let's say I've learned how to handle the job. I've picked up some bad habits that go with it. Cigars. Alcohol-was "And a touch of swearing." It wasn't said unkindly. 212O Absalom! "Everything changes. What a person does. How he feels-was He was testing her. Thankfully, he heard her murmur, "Yes. I-was She leaned forward. "I really am grateful to you. More grateful than I can say. I know how you feel about Edward's beliefs, and mine. What you did this evening- well, it brings back memories. Memories that make me feel extremely guilty." "Fan, that wasn't the purpose of my helping-was "I realize," she broke in. "Still, I can't help thinking of things I said in Lexington. I don't feel any less strongly about the-the differences that separated us. But if it's any consolation-was He saw the pain this cost her. His heart softened. He wanted to cross and sit beside her; comfort her. But it would be improper. She was another man's wife. He stayed where he was and let her finish: "comwhat you did for Edward makes me quite ashamed of-of some events in the past." "Oh-was He looked rueful. "I expect it was inevitable that we'd separate. We only did in our marriage what the country took a bit longer to do." "I'm particularly ashamed-was "Fan, there's no need for this. Lexington's gone. We're different people." She shook her head, defiantly; an echo of the stormy days they'd suffered. "You must let me finish. I was cruel. Especially in the things I said about you and your cousin." "Amanda?" "Yes. Accusing the two of you of trying to cheat the boys." For a moment, suspicion deviled him again. Was she sincere-or only trying to find out if her sons were still wealthy? He was chagrined by the thought. Hadn't he himself schemed deviously, just to gain entrance to this parlor The Titans213 where two strangers sat with their memories and old hurts? "comI regret those accusations very much, Jephtha." He was reassured. "You know I'd never deny my sons what's theirs." "I've come to realize that." "Each one of them will get a substantial inheritance when I die. In fact, I've finally written a will to insure it. And I haven't touched a penny of the income from California. Nor the profits from its investment." Now they were closer to the reason he was here; so close, he started breathing a little faster. Fan smiled in a wry way: "Edward, I'm sorry to say, suspects just the opposite. Only yesterday, he wondered whether you'd cut the boys off. I don't know whether you'll believe me, but I told him I was sure you wouldn't. I told him I was wrong in Lexington. I said you were a fair, decent man-was The gas shone on her carefully combed hair. He noticed more gray. "That was generous of you. But don't paint me as a saint. Tonight, I-was Tension curled his fingers against his palms. "comI also helped your husband because of the boys." She frowned. "I don't understand." "When I saw Lamont's name in the Star, I assumed you might be with him. But I didn't know whether you'd receive me. Or even speak to me-was A sad smile. "I can appreciate why you'd think that." "comand although it's true I wanted to stop the Pinker-the Yankee thugs at the theater, I also believed that if I did it, you'd be-more inclined to give me a few minutes. To tell me-was He couldn't hold it back: "Fan, are the boys well? Are they here?" "They're all quite well." 214O Absalom! He squeezed his eyes shut, startled by the feel of tears. "Only Jeremiah is here, though. He's sleeping in the other bedroom." "I'm surprised he didn't wake up when I came in." "You really didn't make much noise. And young boys sleep very soundly. I sometimes think a fourteen year old could sleep through the last judgment." He shook his head. "Fourteen. I've gotten confused. I'd have sworn Jeremiah was fifteen." "No, he was born in June, remember?" Jephtha's pale eyes glistened. "Yes, I do." A rap on the hall door brought Fan to her feet. "Probably the doctor," Jephtha said. "But I'd better make sure." He drew the pepperbox from his pocket, noticing her startled expression. He checked the revolving hammer nose to be certain it was in position to fire again, palmed the weapon and walked to the door. "Who's there?" A grumbly voice replied, "Doctor Butterfield." Jephtha slipped the bolt to admit a white-haired, baggy-eyed fellow with a satchel. Judging by the smell, Dr. Butterfield had been summoned from a conference with a bottle. He nearly tripped as he entered. While Jephtha rebolted the door, Butterfield said, "Something about an actor getting hurt-was He squinted at Jephtha. "You the actor?" "He's in the bedroom." "Sorry. Can't tell who's who these days. President looks like a farmer. General of the army looks like a pig with the bloat." "It's the lady's husband," Jephtha advised him. "He was beaten severely at Canterbury Hall." "Oh! That secesh fracas. Heard about it while I was drink-uh, before I was called." "I don't think he's badly injured. But we'd like you to The Titans215 verify it." Jephtha opened the bedroom door. Lamont lay on his side. He breathed with his mouth open, a raspv sound. "Fee's one dollar." Butterfield stopped. "In advance." "I have it, Fan-was Deftly, Jephtha hid the Sharps in his pocket and hunted for a gold piece while Butterfield peered in at the patient. As Jephtha paid the fee, he noticed the doctor shift his attention to the whiskey decanter beside the bed. "Thank you," Butterfield said, stifling a slight burp. He smoothed his lapel, a futile gesture to give himself a more professional appearance. It was impossible. "A dollar for night calls, you understand-was he began, taking a step and tripping over the edge of the bedroom carpet. Somewhat sententiously, he said, "I'll report shortly." He closed the door in Jephtha's face. Fan paced again. "I hope he's competent." "I suppose we have to take the luck of the pot this time of night. Fan-was "Yes?" He went to her. Even grew bold enough to clasp his hands over hers. They were cold. "Tell me about the boys." "Well, let me see-was Self-conscious, she withdrew her hands. "Gideon's in Virginia. He went to Richmond to try to enlist in a military unit." Jephtha was overjoyed at the nearness of his eldest son, but alarmed at the thought of the boy having committed himself to the war so soon. "He wants to join a cavalry troop," Fan continued. "Gideon started to ride when he was twelve. He's become very accomplished on Papa's horses. I understand volunteers must supply their own mounts. I'm sure Papa will give him one." 216O Absalom! Jephtha forced himself to ask, "How is Captain. Tun- worth?" "Not in good health. But he's glad the war has finally come." Old men are always glad young men will fight for them, Jephtha thought "Are you glad?" She looked straight into his eyes and he felt something akin to the old affection they'd shared. "I don't know how to answer that, Jephtha." "Why not? It's a simple question." "No, it isn't. I think the South's been abused far too long. I believe in the doctrine of state sovereignty. The Union was freely created by separate states, and it can be dissolved just as freely. However, Mr. Lincoln's decided the question can only be settled on a battlefield." "Sumter decided it, Fan." "You may be right." She brushed at her forehead. "But no matter what the principles are, I'm not glad at all. I don't want anything to happen to my-to our sons." Again that small, weary smile. "Gideon's a lot like you. He's as enthusiastic about his cause as you are-was "Were." "comab yours." "Eager to fight?" "V. The moment he can find a horse troop that'll take him, he'll be coming back to say goodbye." "Back here?" Jephtha couldn't keep elation from his voice. "How soon do you think that'll be?" "In a few days I should imagine. He's a marvelous boy, Jephtha. Big. Good-looking-and he loves to sing. He has a very appealing voice. Of the three of them, he's also the one with the hottest temper." She twitted him gently: "I expect you're responsible. There was that Virginia grandmother of yours, on your., father's side-was The Titans217 "Elizabeth Fletcher. Elizabeth Kent," he amended. "You always spoke of some strain she'd brought into the family-the Fletcher blood, wasn't that the name? Those who inherited it were always a little headstrong, you said. Even rebellious. I noticed it in you. I certainly see it in Gideon." Jephtha pondered a moment. "I don't know how long the bridges to Virginia will be open. But if Gideon can get back, I'd like to see him." "Of course." He wanted to whoop and hug her. "What about Matthew? Is he here?" She frowned, returning to the settee. "Matt's been a problem." "How so?" "He's even less of a scholar than Gideon. Fve tried to teach the boys mathematics and science and some literature while they traveled with us. But Matthew simply balked at schooling. Two years ago Edward and I were at a loss to know what to do. We finally gave him permission to try something he said appealed to him." "What?" "He's a seaman. Well, actually a mess boy. On a Charleston cotton packet called the Prince of Carolina." "Good God! I'd never have imagined he'd like that sort of life." "I think he just wanted to get away. I worry about him among all those foul-talking sailors. But he is almost seventeen. And he sounds happy. Here-was Moving to a secretary, she produced two folded sheets. "This is his last letter. Written a week ago, from New Orleans." Jephtha took the sheets. The handwriting was clear and bold. "At least his penmanship's passable." "More than that. He lettered a card for my birthday 218O Absalom! that was positively beautiful. In the letter, you'll come across a reference to sketches-was "He draws?" "Quite well. He's completely self-taught." "He certainly doesn't get the ability from me." Fan shared his smile. "Nor me. Sometimes I suppose talent just-appears in a person. I'll show you two samples of his work when