By Sanction of Law/Chapter 33
Truman and Lida were strolling, late in the afternoon, their plans for eloping having been delayed. The day had been lowery and threatening, with low banked clouds crossing the sky with swift menacing proportions from the south. Every cloud threatened a shower, thus keeping all except the lovers within doors. The trees seemed depressed with the heaviness of the atmosphere.
The two had been walking along the edge of the woods not far from the cave, when they decided to step out into the open to view the sky to see if rain still threatened. The sky was of a deep blue overcast. While from the south there came up these heavy clouds, also from the southwest there began to form and scud across the horizon, other lower, smoky clouds. The couple were now walking in the fields several hundred feet away from the woods, crossing the rows of corn.
From where they were they could see for several miles across fields of cotton, corn and wheat. In one direction there was a wide expanse of open farm land while almost directly opposite some two miles away was another copse where tall pines reared their heads proudly to the sky and soughed sadly to the wind. Below these, as if under their protecting wings were giant oaks, hickory and other trees with a southern profusion, with undergrowth nearer the ground.
Suddenly the two halted in their tracks and stood wonderingly at the low rumbling noise greeting their ears. It was like the roll of continued distant thunder. The wind, too, was beginning to freshen into a gale. Lida's hair blowing to the wind despite her efforts to control it. As they stood a jack rabbit bounded across their path on its way to a burrow in the furze near the edge of the woods. A squirrel followed closely behind, chattering in a frightened way, as it ran.
A flock of crows that had been feeding in a field nearby, flying in the wind, cawed excitedly as they passed. A pair of blue jays, also fluttered by. The rumble grew louder as the velocity of the wind increased and the trees began to sway far over as if to seemingly almost bend and snap. Unconsciously fear seemed to grip the hearts of the two as they stood helplessly looking from one to the other. They were just about to start back for the woods and the cave when from far across the woods to the south could be seen a funnel-shaped blue-black cloud, darker than those which formed a background to it.
This funnel-shaped cloud twisted and gyrated from one side to the other coming ominously on toward them. Truman's arm was about the waist of the girl while she leaned unconsciously toward him for protection. They gazed at the cloud as if entranced out of their wills. The gale was so fierce by this time that they scarcely kept their footing. Truman uttered but two words: "a cyclone." Into Lida's face there crept not fear but confidence.
Truman realized that to run for the woods would be to court danger of death from flying tree branches and limbs, for as they stood watching the cloud, huge branches of trees were twisted from the bodies of the tall pines and wrenched high up into the air. Great limbs of leaving oaks were tossed about after being torn away from their trunks as if they were so many feathers. Trees were falling, with the seeming ease of sticks that had lost their balance. The cyclone's action was enough to fill any soul with awe at its power. When he could take his eyes from the awe-inspiring sight, Bennet looked about for a place of safety. He knew that, could they remain stationary their best chances for life without injury would be to remain in the open. Yet who could withstand the force of that blow. They were now fighting to keep their balance and to prevent being blown away. They stood with difficulty.
In looking about him he discovered a tree stump of small size nearby. Toward this he maneuvered with the girl. They were almost blown past it by the wind. Truman managed to grip it, however, and placing his lips close to Lida's ears he shouted, "Lie down and clasp your arms about this stump. Hang on for dear life."
He was about to lie down by her side when he looked toward the woods they had left a short while before. His hair almost stood on ends. His eyes became wild. "My God," he cried. Lida looked in his direction and muttered one heart despairing word, "Daddy."
Unmindful of the danger which threatened him, Colonel Lauriston was walking at the edge of the woods, taking a step or two but to be blown back as he struggled in the grip of the storm, whose howling voice was like a dozen furies madly trying to bear him away. His hands were flying as if in defiance of the elements that raged about him. There was a wild look on his face. He raged and struggled, his mind completely gone.
As Truman looked at the old man, pity in his heart at the sight, he noted that there was a stump not very far from the edge of the woods to which if he could get the old man, his life would be saved. To shout a warning would not suffice since no human voice could carry above the roar and rumble of the cyclone which had reached almost the height of its fury by this time. He could not bear to think of the old man being carried away to a horrible death, crushed among the falling tree trunks and other dèbris. Colonel Lauriston had now grasped a bending sapling and was hanging on instinctively. Bennet leaned over to Lida and shouted, "Don't let go. Hold on. I'll save him."
As he released his grip on the stump he was blown so rapidly that he was almost forced out of the path of the old man. Like a man crossing a swiftly flowing stream, tacking at an angle to reach the other shore, Bennet struggled. At each stump, where he rested and regained his breath, he paused, to select another anchor toward which he would be blown and cling. At the third stump he failed to guide his way so that he was knocked against it with such force as to be almost stunned. Recovering himself he made another effort and this time was carried to the edge of the woods and to Colonel Lauriston. The latter was still struggling and trying to stand to the wind. His hair was blowing straight back from his head, sand slashing his face and bringing tears to his eyes. He was raving incoherently.
Bennet reasoned that, since the wind was blowing across the woods, he would be fairly safe if he could make the stump not far away. Pausing to measure distances accurately, and to gauge the angle at which he would have to be carried by the stump he wanted to reach, after taking Colonel Lauriston by one hand, he stepped out and both were borne to the trunk of the tree. Colonel Lauriston lost his balance in the struggle and was half dragged, half blown across the distance. Bennet clinging to his hand.
Throwing the elder man to the ground, he fell prostrate across his body and grasped the stump, holding for dear life, at the same time locking his legs in a scissors grip about the elder man's body. He was not a moment too soon for the apex of the cyclone was upon them the next minute. The roar was deafening. Sand and dirt blew in blinding gusts. Truman felt his body lifted and pounded to the ground till it seemed he was breathless. Colonel Lauriston tried to rise, but Bennet forced him to lie prone by pressing his locked legs about the man's body.
Suddenly the fury of the storm abated. The cyclone had come and was gone. As soon as the fury was spent, Bennet released his grip on the old man and arose. He rushed to where Lida was still on the ground. She had swooned. Colonel Lauriston was now running around on all fours and barking like a dog. Running around the stump as if tied to it. Lida's hair, which had been blown loose was half buried in sand and dirt. Bennet tenderly lifted her to a sitting position and, with his handkerchief, began brushing the sand from her face and eyes. She was still unconscious. He shook her gently and called her name. Her head fell back in his arm displaying her well formed throat. There was sand between her lips. After a few moments she slowly opened her eyes then closed them. When she next opened them she was herself.
"Where's Daddy?" she asked.
Truman kissed her tenderly. "My own," he said. "I should not have left you alone." She returned the caress, with:
"Never mind me. Did you save my Daddy?" She insisted.
"I saved him but I fear he will never know you again," Bennet explained sadly.
As he finished speaking, Truman started with Lida toward Colonel Lauriston who was still near the stump, though now standing, staring blankly toward the approaching pair. As she advanced Lida began to weep, pity at the plight of her father well-ing into her heart till she felt she could no longer bear the pain.
"Daddy, Dear Daddy. To think that life should bring us to this!" she murmured as she grasped his sanded hands and started to guide him away. He submitted as readily as a child, still muttering to himself. Bennet took the other hand and the two started toward the house, which by luck had not been blown over by the storm, being out of its direct path. They were within a quarter of a mile of the house when Lida realized the danger into which Bennet was running. Suddenly she paused, consternation at the thought, bringing a look of wildness to her face.
"Better not go any further, Truman," she said gently. "You'll be discovered if you do."
Bennet realized the truth of the words but asked, "Hadn't I better go a little further? Will you be able to manage?"
Lida indicated that she could. Darkness was now approaching and Bennet yielded. "I'll come to you as soon as possible tomorrow, Dear, and we'll leave tomorrow night. I'll have to make plans to see that Daddy will be cared for before I go."
"That will be all right, Lida," Bennet consented, and returned to his hiding place.
Elvin slept most of the day following his return home and was only awakened by the howl of the storm and the frightened noises of the animals in the barn, and the Negro hands, who gazed on the storm with awe, while at the same time huddled into a group, they mumbled prayers. He had given no thought to Lida or his father until he saw the couple coming out of the approaching darkness along the lane leading to the house. Without a word to his sister he assisted his father into the house and his room, where the servants soon had the old man prepared for bed while Lida caused hot drinks to be made and given him.
She was busy most of the morning of the following day securing medical attendance for Colonel Lauriston and making plans for his care. She and Elvin met but twice during the day and then spoke to each other only in monosyllables. At last plans were completed to her satisfaction and she started for the woods to meet Bennet. As she walked down the lane leading to the woods Elvin was looking from his window.
"Ah," he muttered in surmise. "She's not going into that woods for nothing. She's meeting him there, durn her. Well, she'll meet him the last time today." With that he turned into his room loaded his revolver and started to follow her. When he left the house Lida was now lost to view and he hunted in the woods some time before he discovered a trace of her.
Lida and Bennet had met and were walking at the edge of the forest planning their departure, unmindful of the menace stalking them down.
"Do you know, Truman, there are but two regrets that I have at leaving this place."
"I know you must love it, Lida Mine.—I know how you must feel. In a way I'm sorry to take you away.—It's your home."
"That's it. It is all the home I have known. How existence changes as we go through life.—Here's the spot that has known all my childhood joys and happiness—all my little troubles and cares and worries. Yet I'm leaving them—and willingly for—" she looked up tenderly at the young man at her side, then softly said—"you." As she spoke she pressed the arm to which she clung, a little more weightily. She looked out on the drab fields of cotton swaying in the gray day. "I shall miss you, land of my home, however many pains I have known here. I shall miss you beloved woodland, and most of all I shall miss my cave."
Bennet looked down at her, deeply touched. "Never mind, some day perhaps we'll come back and they will be glad to greet us."
"I hate to leave my father in the condition he is. And if your life were not in danger every moment you remained I wouldn't go away. I wonder if he'll ever recover and become reconciled?" Tears filled her eyes.
"Dear Daddy," she said. "I love you and am sorry."
"I'll wait, Lida Mine, while you nurse your father. I'll go away and wait, though I should miss you just as the falls would miss the water if the creek's path were turned away. I should be mighty lonesome. I'd go and wait though."
"I know you would, Truman. But I could not go on without you. Harm would come to me here. What would I do without you now? Heaven only knows what I'd have to endure once you're gone.—No, we must go. I'll have to leave Daddy to the care of the servants and his friends here for a while. Perhaps time will change things. No new land ever has the same reverence that a childhood home has. We must come back—sometime."
"We'll come back, as you wish, whenever you wish, Lida."
They walked along in silence for a few moments when suddenly Lida halted. Her breath stopped—her face blanched. Bennet turned to her alarmed.
"What is it?—What's the matter.—Tell me. Quick."
Before Lida could answer, Elvin Lauriston, eyes blazing with fury, his revolver raised and pointed at Bennet, stepped from behind a pine tree they were approaching, not ten feet away. Lida had seen him peering from behind the tree and had seen him raise the revolver. She prepared to throw herself in front of her lover. Bennet anticipated this and while the revolver was still raised and aimed at him stepped to the front of the girl holding her hand firmly so she could not make effort to save him, and—looked into eternity. He could feel the tremor of the girl's hand in his and felt her breathing close to his arm.
"Needn't pull her behind you.—I'm going to kill you both," Elvin warned. Bennet still gazed from the nozzle of the revolver to Lauriston. "You coward," Elvin continued. "You come down here where you're not wanted and try to take my sister away from her people. Sneaking in like a snake in the grass."
Bennet decided not to interrupt him, knowing that the longer Elvin talked the more time he would be given to map out a plan of action and the less likely Lauriston would be to shoot.
"Yes," he continued, "we shoot snakes like you in cold blood. You thought to take my sister away. You thought to get yourself-into our family. She could not see it. I'm going to spoil your little game. No sister of mine will ever marry a man of your blood."
"Don't you think you'll be hanged for such a crime?" Bennet asked.
"I hang, for killing you? Never. We don't do things that way down here. We can stand for black men down here for we can keep them in their places. For your kind, though, there's no sympathy. You're to damned fresh and uppish."
"I am a man the same as you."
"You can never be a white man."
"No, from what Lida tells me, neither can you.—Neither can you.—Neither can any of us. We're all of mixed blood."
Elvin winced at this. Bennet followed this up. "You called me a coward. It is you who'd play the coward to shoot down in cold blood a defenseless woman after you had shot the only one here to protect her."
"You protect her? Ha-ha-ha. That's'a joke."
"Not so much of a joke as you think. It seems that you did not give her the protection and sympathy a brother should. You would have had her married off to one not to her liking, not to please her, but to please yourselves."
"That's a lie. It was to prevent her disgracing the name of Lauriston."
"Bennet is a name as much honored as yours."
"Not here. And we southerners stick together."
"Yes, even in murder.—Tell you what, though. I've no weapon with which to defend myself. I don't want any. You called me a coward. I'm going to see who's the coward. Here's a fair proposition. Shoot us down in cold blood or break your revolver,—throw the weapon away but put the cartridges in your pocket. If you can kill me by your hands I'll be willing to die. In that way you'll have a chance to show whether you're a coward or not. You're bigger than I."
"Ha—Lida's just fool enough to help you."
"I said man to man. Leave her out of it. She'll not harm a hair of your head.—Here's an open space. We'll fight till one of us is no longer able to leave. One of us will be left here dead. That's a man's way. Will you agree or will you prove to be a yellow coward?"
"Take off your coat. No man ever found me yellow yet," Elvin said, as he broke the revolver, removed the cartridges and threw the empty weapon away.
"Now you talk as I had always believed men talk!" exclaimed Bennet.
Both men now began to strip. Lida clung to Bennet's arm as she began to cry softly. "Don't fight, Truman, over me. He'll maybe kill you. I don't want you to die.—I don't want you to die."
"There's no way out of it, Heart of Mine. If not this way then it would be death for both of us. There's no use asking for sympathy."
Elvin was hurrying with his preparations and was almost ready. "I'll give no quarter," he warned. "Each for himself, when I'm ready."
"Elvin," Lida spoke through her tears. "Is there not an iota of love in your heart. Must you persist in murder to satisfy your selfish pride. Can you not leave us to ourselves. Why interfere? I'm no longer a child. Think of the love we bore for each other as children. Think of the times we used to romp and play together. Never was there quarrel between brother and sister till now. These woods, these fields, we've roamed together, you and I, hand in hand, in the love that has been ours. Must it be death for me, for I will die if Truman is hurt; must it be death only that will satisfy you? Have you no heart? Are you all beast?"—
"Oh, shut up! If you're determined to marry this man then I'm determined to stop it. Even if I have to kill him first and then you. I was a fool to not shoot you both down. I'll get my hands on his throat, however, and choke the very life out of him. Then I'll attend to you. When a girl won't look out for herself it is for her blood relatives to look out for her."
Bennet had removed his collar and was in the act of removing the soft wool blouse he wore when Elvin finished, stripped to the waist, the muscles developed in his outdoor life and at college standing out in sinews of arms and shoulders, pinked into condition. Lida, after speaking, seeing that neither tears nor pleas would avail began to weep softly again when Bennet halted in his preparations to comfort her. Placing the free arm about the girl's waist, he drew her to him and whispered. "Never mind. I'll protect you. I have you and God on my side. We'll win."
"But he'll kill you.—He'll kill you. Then what will become of me. I'd rather die by your hands than by his." Bennet drew her to him and kissed her tenderly, still tugging to free his arm from the blouse. Elvin started toward the couple. Lida stepped into his path in front of Bennet and raised her hand.
"Stop!" she commanded. "I warn you, Elvin. I love you as a brother even though you do this monstrous thing. I love you, but if you kill him I'll kill you. I'll kill you," she panted hysterically.
For answer Elvin struck the girl a blow with the flat of his hand. "Get out of the way. You'll get hurt." The surprise of the blow as well as the pain sent Lida reeling and stumbling at the side till she fell sprawling on the pine needles.
"You dirty yellow dog!" Bennet exploded as he rushed in madness toward Elvin. "To strike your own sister down like that." The two men met in mighty primeval clinch, brute against brute. Between his teeth, after the first impact of blows exchanged, as they clinched, Bennet continued, "I did not intend to kill you but for that I'm going to throttle you as I would a raging dog."
The two men swayed back and forth around the open space each striving for a blow to advantage and each warding off ponderous swings then clinching and wrestling for mastery.
"Save your breath to cry for help," countered Elvin. "You'll need it, and get none."
They breathed in great explosive hisses and grunted as they tugged and struck out at each other and reeled over the spot. Elvin caught Bennet a terrific swing on the jaw in an unguarded moment as they came together and the latter retaliated with a body blow that sent the former sagging in the knees. They lost the semblance of men, their faces bleeding, and with their hair tousled, their eyes glaring like wild animals, they struggled and grunted. Once Bennet's foot slipped on the bed of pine needles and he almost went down. Elvin was over him in an instant gripping for the throat which was his objective. As he leaned over, Bennet, with a supreme effort twisted to one side and threw his adversary off balance for a moment. That instant, however, was enough for his purpose. He was on his feet quick as a flash, the grip which had been slowly coming closer and closer to his throat broken, and Elvin hurled several feet away.
While the two men were struggling, Lida regained consciousness and struggled to her feet to lean against a tree. She watched the two men, torn between two desires. She wished for her lover to win but prayed that the blood of her brother's death would not be on his hands. At the same time she agonized over the fear that her brother would be victor and she would see her lover die. She leaned against the tree, her eyes staring wildly at the two men, her features distorted by the agony she endured, of fear and hate combined, her fingers digging into the bark so ferociously that the nails were torn and bleeding. She could not scream. She could only stand transfixed with horror.
Bennet seemed to be tiring, and Elvin, gloating in the realization pressed for victory. Bennet's arms seemed to drop for a flash, from protecting his jaw. That flash was enough for Elvin, however. In that instant he swung a vicious bone-crushing blow to Bennet's chin. For just the hundredth part of a second the latter's eyes glazed. Lida saw the blow and uttered a half smothered scream of agony. Bennet heard this and came back to his senses. As he reeled from the blow, and Elvin tried to follow up his advantage, throwing caution to the wind, Bennet reached his hands up under his foe's arms and clutched at the throat. Elvin was trying for the same grip. As Bennet felt his fingers clutching Elvin's neck he gave a quick twist and pull, tripping his adversary over his knee. He fell atop Elvin, but for the moment could not stay on top. He clung to the throat, however. Elvin rolled over with Bennet beneath him. The latter's throat grip, however, was like that of a bull dog. Elvin gave over, for a moment trying to get Bennet's throat, but strove to break the grip by grasping both Bennet's hands and tearing them away from his windpipe. He was gasping for breath now. Bennet hung on for life. He wrapped both legs about those of his adversary and, still pressing tightly on the throat slowly rolled Elvin over till he was above again. He sat astride now slowly pressing, pressing his fingers further and further into the throat of his victim. Elvin tried futilely to shake off the grip. Bennet felt the body weakening. Elvin's face began to purple. As Bennet realized that he was victor and that Elvin was losing consciousness, he released his grip slightly.
"I don't want your blood on my hands," he panted, "or else I'd kill you cold as you planned to do me."
Elvin's grip relaxed completely as he passed into unconsciousness. Bennet laid the hands over his head and began working them back and forth, as in the case of a drowning man. Lida stood still at the tree her body half bending over toward the pair transfixed in horror at what she was beholding. Bennet leaned over the prostrate form of his victim, slowly moving the arms back and forth at the same time pressing in and out with his knees at the sides of the man. After a few moments of this he listened at the heart. There were faint heart beats.
"Thank God," he breathed. "Thank God, I'm no murderer." He leaned over and listened again. The heart beats were stronger. "He'll live," he said aloud. At the words Lida came out of her trance of horror and fell prostrate on the ground again. The hoise of her fall brought Bennet to his senses of her presence. He turned to her. "My God," he exclaimed.
"Lida,—Lida—Lida, Dear," he exclaimed as he rushed to her side, bent over and lifted her into his arms. "Lida, Lida." He shook her gently. "Lida—Lida, wake dear."
He shook her gently again and at the third time she opened her eyes.
"Truman,—Oh, Truman—Yov've killed him.—You've killed him."
"No," he said, lifting her to her feet. "Brace up. He's not dead."
"And to think that he tried to kill you.—It was horrible—horrible, horrible," she continued. "Are you sure he's not dead?" she asked.
"His heart's beating," Bennet reassured her.
Bennet returned to the still prostrate and unconscious man, kneeled over and listened to his heart. "He'll live," he said. "His heart is stronger. We'll have to get away from here as quickly as possible. When he comes to there'll be no saving ourselves then. He'll not fight again, but kill us in cold blood. We'll have to go and go quickly."