In Her Own Right Read online

  IV

  PARMENTER'S BEQUEST

  Croyden, with Dick as guide and old Mose as forerunner andshutter-opener, went through the house, even unto the garret.

  As in the downstairs, he found it immaculate. Josephine had kepteverything as though the Colonel himself were in presence. The bedlinen, the coverlids, the quilts, the blankets were packed in trunks,the table-linen and china in drawers and closets. None of them wasnew--practically the entire furnishing antedated 1830, and much of them1800--except that, here and there, a few old rugs of oriental weaves,relieved the bareness of the hardwood floors.

  The one concession to modernism was a bath-room, but its tin tub andpainted iron wash-stand, with the plumbing concealed by wainscoting,proclaimed it, alas, of relatively ancient date. And, for a moment,Croyden contrasted it with the shower, the porcelain, and the tile, ofhis Northumberland quarters, and shivered, ever so slightly. It wouldbe the hardest to get used to, he thought. As yet, he did not know theisolation of the long, interminably long, winter evenings, withabsolutely nothing to do and no place to go--and no one who couldunderstand.

  At length, when they were ready to retrace their steps to the lowerfloor, old Mose had disappeared.

  "Gone to tell his wife that the new master has come," said Dick. "Letus go out to the kitchen."

  And there they found her--bustling around, making the fire, her headtied up in a bandana, her sleeves rolled to the shoulders. She turned,as they entered, and dropped them an old-fashioned curtsy.

  "Josephine!" said Dick, "here is Mr. Croyden, the new master. Can youcook for him, as well as you did for Colonel Duval?"

  "Survent, marster," she said to Croyden, with another curtsy--then, tothe agent, "Kin I cooks, Marster Dick! Kin I cooks? Sut'n'y, I kin.Don' yo t'inks dis nigger's forgot--jest yo waits, Marster Croyden, Ishows yo, seh, sho' nuf--jest gives me a little time to get my han' in,seh."

  "You won't need much time," Dick commented. "The Colonel considered hervery satisfactory, sir, very satisfactory, indeed. And he was acompetent judge, sir, a very competent judge."

  "Oh, we'll get along," said Croyden, with a smile at Josephine. "If youcould please Colonel Duval, you will more than please me."

  "Thankee, seh!" she replied, bobbing down again. "I sho' tries, seh."

  "Have you had any experience with negro servants?" Dick asked, as theyreturned to the library.

  "No," Croyden responded: "I have always lived at a Club."

  "Well, Mose and his wife are of the old times--you can trust them,thoroughly, but there is one thing you'll have to remember, sir: theyare nothing but overgrown children, and you'll have to discipline themaccordingly. They don't know what it is to be impertinent, sir; theyhave their faults, but they are always respectful."

  "Can I rely on them to do the buying?"

  "I think so, sir, the Colonel did, I know. If you wish, I'll send you alist of the various stores, and all you need do is to pay the bills. Isthere anything else I can do now, sir?"

  "Nothing," said Croyden. "And thank you very much for all you havedone."

  "How about your baggage--can I send it out? No trouble, sir, I assureyou, no trouble. I'll just give your checks to the drayman, as I pass.By the way, sir, you'll want the telephone in, of course. I'll notifythe Company at once. And you needn't fear to speak to your neighbors;they will take it as it's meant, sir. The next on the left is MajorBorden's, and this, on the right, is Captain Tilghman's, and across theway is Captain Lashiel's, and Captain Carrington's, and the houseyonder, with the huge oaks in front, is Major Markoe's."

  "Sort of a military settlement," smiled Croyden.

  "Yes, sir--some of them earned their title in the war, and some ofthem in the militia and some just inherited it from their pas. Sort ofhanded down in the family, sir. The men will call on you, promptly,too. I shouldn't wonder some of them will be over this evening."

  Croyden thought instantly of the girl he had seen coming out of theBorden place, and who had directed him to Clarendon.

  "Would it be safe to speak to the good-looking girls, too--those whoare my neighbors?" he asked, with a sly smile.

  "Certainly, sir; if you tell them your name--and don't try to flirtwith them," Dick added, with a laugh. "Yonder is one, now--MissCarrington," nodding toward the far side of the street.

  Croyden turned.--It was she! the girl of the blue-black hair andslender silken ankles.

  "She's Captain Carrington's granddaughter," Dick went on with theSoutherner's love for the definite in genealogy. "Her father and motherboth died when she was a little tot, sir, and they--that is, thegrandparents, sir--raised her. That's the Carrington place she'sturning in at. Ah----"

  The girl glanced across and, recognizing Dick (and, it must beadmitted, her Clarendon inquirer as well), nodded.

  Both men took off their hats. But Croyden noticed that the older mancould teach him much in the way it should be done. He did it shortly,sharply, in the city way; Dick, slowly, deferentially, as though itwere an especial privilege to uncover to her.

  "Miss Carrington is a beauty!" Croyden exclaimed, looking after her."Are there more like her, in Hampton?"

  "I'm too old, sir, to be a competent judge," returned Dick, "but Ishould say we have several who trot in the same class. I mean,sir----"

  "I understand!" laughed Croyden. "It's no disrespect in a Marylander, Itake it, when he compares the ladies with his race-horses."

  "It's not, sir! At least, that's the way we of the older generationfeel; our ladies and our horses run pretty close together. But that spiritis fast disappearing, sir! The younger ones are becoming--commercialized,if you please. It's dollars first, and _then_ the ladies, with them--andthe horses nowhere. Though I don't say it's not wise. Horses and thewar have almost broken us, sir. We lost the dollars, or forgot aboutthem and they lost themselves, whichever way it was, sir. It's right thatour sons should start on a new track and run the course in their ownway--Yes, sir," suddenly recollecting himself, "Miss Carrington's apretty girl, and so's Miss Tayloe and Miss Lashiel and a heap more.Indeed, sir, Hampton is famed on the Eastern Sho' for her women. I'llattend to your baggage, and the telephone, sir, and if there isanything else I can do, pray command me. Drop in and see me when youget up town. Good day, sir, good day." And removing his hat with a bowjust a little less deferential than the one he had given to MissCarrington, he proceeded up the street, leisurely and deliberately, asthough the world were waiting for him.

  "And he is a real estate agent!" reflected Croyden. "The man who,according to our way of thinking, is the acme of hustle and bustle andbusiness, and schemes to trap the unwary. Truly, the Eastern Shore hasmuch to learn--or we have much to unlearn! Well, I have tried theone--and failed. Now, I'm going to try the other. It seems to promise aquiet life, at least."

  He turned, to find Moses in the doorway, waiting.

  "Marster Croyden," he said, "shall I puts yo satchel an' things in deCun'l's room, seh?"

  Croyden nodded. He did not know which was the Colonel's room, but itwas likely to be the best in the house, and, moreover, it was well tofollow him wherever he could.

  "And see that my luggage is taken there, when the man brings it," hedirected--"and tell Josephine to have luncheon at one and dinner atseven."

  The darky hesitated.

  "De Cun'l hed dinner in de middle o' de day, seh," he said, as thoughCroyden had inadvertently erred.

  And Croyden appreciating the situation, answered:

  "Well, you see, Moses, I've been used to the other way and I reckon youwill have to change to suit me."

  "Yass, seh! yass, seh! I tell Jose. Lunch is de same as supper, Is'pose, seh?"

  Croyden had to think a moment.

  "Yes," he said, "that will answer--like a light supper."

  "There may be an objection, after all, to taking over Colonel Duval'sold servants," he reflected. "It may be difficult to persuade them thathe is no longer the master. I run the chance of being ruled by a deadman."

  Presently
his luggage arrived, and he went upstairs to unpack. Moseslooked, in wonder, at the wardrobe trunk, with every suit on a separatehanger, the drawers for shirts and linen, the apartments for hats, andcollars, and neckties, and the shoes standing neatly in a row below.

  "Whar's de use atak'in de things out t'al, Marster Croyden!" heexclaimed.

  "So as to put the trunk away."

  "Sho'! I mo'nt a kno'd hit. Hit's mons'us strange, seh, whar yo mon'ta' kno'd ef yo'd only stop to t'ink. F' instance, I mon't a kno'd yo'dcum back to Clarendon, seh, some day, cuz yo spends yo money on hit.Heh!"

  Then a bell tinkled softly from below.

  "Dyar's dinner--I means lunch, seh," said Moses. "'Scuse me, seh."

  "And I'm ready for it," said Croyden, as he went to the ironwash-stand, and then slowly down stairs to the dining-room.

  From some place, Moses had resurrected a white coat, yellow with itsten years' rest, and was waiting to receive him. He drew out Croyden'schair, as only a family servant of the olden times can do it, and bowedhim into his place.

  The table was set exactly as in Colonel Duval's day, and very prettilyset, Croyden thought, with napery spotless, and china that was thin andfine. The latter, if he had but known it, was Lowestoft and had servedthe Duvals, on that very table, for much more than a hundred years.

  There was cold ham, and cold chicken, lettuce with mayonnaise, deviledeggs, preserves, with hot corn bread and tea. When Croyden had aboutfinished a leisurely meal, it suddenly occurred to him that howevercompletely stocked Clarendon was with things of the Past, they did notapply to the larder, and _these_ victuals were undoubtedly fresh andparticularly good.

  "By the way! Moses," he said, "I'm glad you were thoughtful enough tosend out and purchase these things," with an indicating motion to thetable. "They are very satisfactory."

  "Pu'chase!" said the darky, in surprise. "Dese things not pu'chased.No, seh! Dey's borro'd, seh, from Majah Bo'den's, yass, seh!"

  "Good God!" Croyden exclaimed. "You don't mean you borrowed myluncheon!"

  "Yass, seh! Why not, seh? Jose jes' went ovah an' sez to Cassie--she'sde cook, at de Majah's, seh--sez she, Marster Croyden don' cum andwarns some'n to eat. An' she got hit, yass, seh!"

  "Is it the usual thing, here, to borrow an entire meal from theneighbor's?" asked Croyden.

  "Sut'n'y, seh! We borrows anything we needs from the neighbors, an'they does de same wid us."

  "Well, I don't want any borrowing by _us_, Moses, please remember,"said Croyden, emphatically. "The neighbors can borrow anything we have,and welcome, but we won't claim the favor from them, you understand?"

  "Yass, seh!" said the old darky, wonderingly.

  Such a situation as one kitchen not borrowing from another wasincomprehensible. It had been done by the servants from timeimmemorial--and, though Croyden might forbid, yet Josephine wouldcontinue to do it, just the same--only, less openly.

  "And see that everything is returned not later than to-morrow," Croydencontinued.

  "Yass, seh! I tote's dem back dis minut, seh!----"

  "What?"

  "Dese things, heah, whar yo didn' eat, seh----"

  "Do you mean--Oh, Lord!" exclaimed Croyden.

  "Never mind, Moses. I will return them another way. Just forget it."

  "Sut'n'y, seh," returned the darky. "Dat's what I wuz gwine do in defust place."

  Croyden laughed. It was pretty hopeless, he saw. The ways they had,were the ways that would hold them. He might protest, and orderotherwise, until doomsday, but it would not avail. For them, it wassufficient if Colonel Duval permitted it, or if it were the custom.

  "I think I shall let the servants manage me," he thought. "They knowthe ways, down here, and, besides, it's the line of least resistance."

  He went into the library, and, settling himself in a comfortable chair,lit a cigarette.... It was the world turned upside down. Less thantwenty-four hours ago it was money and madness, bankruptcy and divorcecourts, the automobile pace--the devil's own. Now, it was quiet andgentility, easy-living and refinement. Had he been in Hampton a littlelonger, he would have added: gossip and tittle-tattle, small-mindednessand silly vanity.

  He smoked cigarette after cigarette and dreamed. He wondered whatElaine Cavendish had done last evening--if she had dined at theClub-house, and what gown she had worn, if she had played golf in theafternoon, or tennis, and with whom; he wondered what she would do thisevening--wondered if she thought of him more than casually. He shook itoff for a moment. Then he wondered again: who had his old quarters atthe Heights? He knew a number who would be jumping for them--who hadhis old table for breakfast? it, too, would be eagerly sought--whowould take his place on the tennis and the golf teams?--what Macloudwas doing? Fine chap was Macloud! the only man in Northumberland hewould trust, the only man in Northumberland, likely, who would care arap whether he came back or whether he didn't, or who would ever givehim a second thought. He wondered if Gaspard, his particular waiter,missed him? yes, he would miss the tips, at least; yes, and the boy whobrushed his clothes and drew his bath would miss him, and his caddie,as well. Every one whom he _paid_, would miss him....

  He threw away his cigarette and sat up sharply. It was not pleasantthinking.

  An old mahogany slant-top escritoire, in the corner by the window,caught his eye. It had a shell, inlaid in maple, in the front, and theparquetry, also, ran around the edges of the drawers and up the sides.

  There was one like it in the Cavendish library, he remembered. He wentover to it, and, the key being in the lock, drew out pulls and turnedback the top. Inside, there was the usual lot of pigeon holes and smalldrawers, with compartments for deeds and larger papers. All were empty.Either Colonel Duval, in anticipation of death, had cleaned it out, orMoses and Josephine, for their better preservation, had packed thecontents away. He was glad of it; he could use it, at least, withoutejecting the Colonel.

  He closed the lid and had turned away, when the secret drawer, which,sometimes, was in these old desks, occurred to him. He went back andbegan to search for it.... And, presently, he found it. Under themiddle drawer was a sliding panel that rolled back, when he pressed ona carved lion's head ornamentation, and which concealed a hiddenrecess. In this recess lay a paper.

  It was yellow with age, and, when Croyden took it in his fingers, hecaught the faint odor of sandal wood. It was brittle in the creases,and threatened to fall apart. So, opening it gently, he spread it onthe desk before him. Here is what he read:

  "Annapolis, 10 May, 1738.

  "Honoured Sir:

  "I fear that I am about to Clear for my Last Voyage--the old wounds trouble me, more and more, especially those in my head and chest. I am confined to my bed, and though Doctor Waldron does not say it, I know he thinks I am bound for Davy Jones' locker. So be it--I've lived to a reasonable Age, and had a fair Time in the living. I've done that which isn't according to Laws, either of Man or God--but for the Former, I was not Caught, and for the Latter, I'm willing to chance him in death. When you were last in Annapolis, I intended to mention a Matter to you, but something prevented, I know not what, and you got Away ere I was aware of it. Now, fearing lest I Die before you come again, I will Write it, though it is against the Doctor's orders--which, however, I obey only when it pleases me.

  "You are familiar with certain Episodes in my Early Life, spent under the Jolly Roger on the Spanish Main, and you have maintained Silence--for which I shall always be your debtor. You have, moreover, always been my Friend, and for that, I am more than your debtor. It is, therefore, but Mete that you should be my Heir--and I have this day Executed my last Will and Testament, bequeathing to you all my Property and effects. It is left with Mr. Dulany, the Attorney, who wrote it, to be probated in due Season.

  "But there still remains a goodly portion which, for obvious reasons, may not be so disposed of. I mean my buried Treasure. I buried it in September, 1720, shortly after I came to Annapolis, trusting not t
o keep so great an Amount in my House. It amounts to about half my Fortune, and Approximates near to Fifty Thousand Pounds, though that may be but a crude Estimate at best, for I am not skilled in the judging of Precious Stones. Where I obtained this wealth, I need not mention, though you can likely guess. And as there is nothing by which it can be identified, you can use it without Hesitation. Subject, however, to one Restriction: As it was not honestly come by (according to the World's estimate, because, forsooth, I only risked my Life in the gathering, instead of pilfering it from my Fellow man in Business, which is the accepted fashion) I ask you not to use it except in an Extremity of Need. If that need does not arise in your Life, you, in turn, may pass this letter on to your heir, and he, in turn, to his heir, and so on, until such Time as the Need may come, and the Restriction be lifted. And now to find the Treasure:--

  "Seven hundred and fifty feet--and at right angles to the water line--from the extreme tip of Greenberry Point, below Annapolis, where the Severn runs into the Chesapeake, are four large Beech trees, standing as of the corners of a Square, though not equidistant. Bisect this Square, by two lines drawn from the Corners. At a Point three hundred and thirty feet, North-by-North-East, from where these two lines intersect and at a depth of Six feet, you will come upon an Iron Box. It contains the Treasure. And I wish you (or whoever recovers it) Joy of it!--as much joy with it as I had in the Gathering.

  "Lest I die before you come again to Annapolis, I shall leave this letter with Mr. Dulany, to be delivered to you on the First Occasion. I judge him as one who will respect a Dead man's seal. If I see you not again, Farewell. I am, sir, with great respect,

  "Y'r humb'l & obed't Serv'nt

  "Robert Parmenter.

  "To Marmaduke Duval, Esq'r."

  Below was written, by another hand:

  "The Extremity of Need has not arisen, I pass it on to my son.

  "M.D."

  And below that, by still another hand:

  "Neither has the Need come to me. I pass it to my son.

  "D.D."

  And below that, by still another hand:

  "Nor to me. I pass it to my son.

  "M.D."

  And below that:

  "The Extremity of Need brushed by me so close I heard the rustling of its gown, but I did not dig. I have sufficient for me, and I am the last of my line. I pass it, therefore, to my good friend Hugh Croyden (and, in the event that he predecease me, to his son Geoffrey Croyden), to whom Clarendon will go upon my demise.

  "D.D."

  Croyden read the last endorsement again; then he smiled, and the smilebroadened into an audible laugh.

  The heir of a pirate! Well, at least, it promised something to engagehim, if time hung heavily on his hands. The Duvals seem to have takenthe bequest seriously--so, why not he? And, though the extremity ofneed seems never to have reached them, it was peculiar that none of thefamily had inspected the locality and satisfied himself of the accuracyof the description. The extreme tip of Greenberry Point had shifted, adozen times, likely, in a hundred and ninety years, and the four beechtrees had long since disappeared, but there was no note of these factsto aid the search. He must start just where Robert Parmenter had leftoff: with the letter.

  He found an old history of Maryland in the book-case. It contained amap. Annapolis was somewhere on the Western Shore, he knew. He ran hiseyes down the Chesapeake. Yes, here it was--with Greenberry Point justacross the Severn. So much of the letter was accurate, at least. Therest would bear investigation. Some time soon he would go across, andtake a look over the ground. Greenberry Point, for all he knew, mightbe built up with houses, or blown half a mile inland, or turned into afort, or anything. It was not likely to have remained the same, as inParmenter's day; and, yet, if it had changed, why should not the Duvalshave remarked it, in making their endorsements.

  He put the letter back in the secret compartment, where it had restedfor so many years. Evidently, Colonel Duval had forgotten it, in hislast brief illness. And Fortune had helped him in the finding. Would ithelp him to the treasure as well? For with him, the restriction waslifted--the extremity of need was come. Moreover, it was time that theletter should be put to the test.