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Updated: June 21, 2025
Crenshaw watched the grave take shape with a melancholy for which he found no words, yet if words could have come from the mist of ideas in which his mind groped vaguely he would have said that for themselves the deeds of the Quintards had been given the touch of finality, and that whether for good or for evil, the consequences, like the ripple which rises from the surface of placid waters when a stone is dropped, still survived somewhere in the world.
And touching her horse lightly with the whip she rode away at a gallop. "She sho'ly is a lady!" said Yancy, staring after her. "And we mustn't forget Memphis or Belle Plain, Nevvy." Crenshaw and the squire approached. "Bob," said the merchant, "Bladen's going to have the boy but he made a mistake in putting this business in the hands of a fool like Dave Blount. I reckon he knows that now."
It was rather squally times, but any port in a storm; we took the negro that night to the bank of a creek which runs by the farm of our friend, and Crenshaw shot him through the head. We took out his entrails and sunk him in the creek; our friend furnished us with one fine horse, and we left him our foundered horses.
Clephane had lured him into the trap, and had herself written the decoy note; but he did not believe her guilty. Even though Crenshaw had adroitly implicated her, he was not influenced. Indeed, he was convinced of just the reverse: that she was honest and sincere and inexperienced, and that she had told him the true story of the letter and its loss.
He had sold his few acres at Scratch Hill for a lump sum to Crenshaw it was to the latter's credit that the transaction was one in which he could feel no real pride as a man of business and just a day later Yancy and the boy had quitted Scratch Hill in the gray dawn, and turned their faces westward.
You came to me to report and I, knowing Harleston, solved the remainder of the mystery. But with Harleston's entry the affair assumed quite a different aspect; and it is no reflection on you, Marston, that your expedition to his apartment didn't succeed; though somewhat later Crenshaw did act as a semi-reasonable man, and secured the letter only to foozle again like an imbecile.
I rolled up his clothes and put them into his portmanteau, as they were brand-new cloth of the best quality. I mounted as fine a horse as ever I straddled, and directed my course for Natchez in much better style than I had been for the last five days. 'Myself and a fellow by the name of Crenshaw gathered four good horses and started for Georgia.
Well, sir, I was willing enough to talk, but she wa'n't, she hardly spoke until we came to the red gate, when she says, 'Stop, if you please, I'll walk the rest of the way. Mind you, she'd known without a word from me we were at the Barony. She give me a dollar, and the last I seen of her she was hurrying through the rain toting the child in her arms." Mr. Crenshaw took up the narrative.
"Then," said Crenshaw pleasantly, "we shall be obliged to bind you and gag you and leave you to be discovered by the maid which, we shall carefully provide, will not be before eight tomorrow morning." "You leave small choice," Harleston observed. "Just the choice between comfort and discomfort!" Crenshaw laughed. "Which shall it be, sir?"
I'm for down-town now; and I will communicate with you at the earliest moment. Meanwhile, the man is in your charge." "Yes, Mr. Harleston!" Whiteside answered. "I want some breakfast!" snapped Crenshaw. "The officer will order from the cafe whatever you wish," Harleston replied; and picking up his stick he departed, the letter and the photograph in the sealed envelope in his inside pocket.
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