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Updated: May 14, 2025
He had had no opportunity, at least no tenable excuse, to kill or maim a negro since the termination of his contract with the state for convicts, and this occasion had awakened a dormant appetite for these diversions. We are all puppets in the hands of Fate, and seldom see the strings that move us. McBane had lived a life of violence and cruelty. As a man sows, so shall he reap.
Delamere had discovered something of tragic import. Neither spoke. Ellis gave all his attention to the horses, and Mr. Delamere remained wrapped in his own sombre reflections. When they reached the office, they were informed by Jerry that Major Carteret was engaged with General Belmont and Captain McBane. Mr.
"Oh, well," replied McBane, "just as you say, only I thought you had cut your eye teeth." Delamere was not pleased with McBane's tone. His remark was not acquiescent, though couched in terms of assent. There was a sneering savagery about it, too, that left Delamere uneasy. He was, in a measure, in McBane's power.
He had money enough to buy out half a dozen of these broken-down aristocrats, and money was all-powerful. "You see, captain," the general went on, looking McBane smilingly and unflinchingly in the eye, "we need white immigration we need Northern capital. 'A good name is better than great riches, and we must prove our cause a righteous one."
The criminal was a negro, the victim a white woman; it was only reasonable to expect the worst. "He'll swing for it," observed the general. Ellis went into another room, where his duty called him. "He should burn for it," averred McBane. "I say, burn the nigger." "This," said Carteret, "is something more than an ordinary crime, to be dealt with by the ordinary processes of law.
"What's the use of all this hypocrisy, gentlemen?" sneered McBane. "Every last one of us has an axe to grind! The major may as well put an edge on his. We'll never get a better chance to have things our way. If this nigger doctor annoys the major, we'll run him out with the rest.
Finally McBane, having thrown the stump of his cigar into the aisle and added to the floor a finishing touch in the way of expectoration, rose and went back into the white car. Left alone in his questionable glory, Miller buried himself again in his newspaper, from which he did not look up until the engine stopped at a tank station to take water.
Carteret frowned at this remark, which, coming from McBane, seemed lacking in human feeling, as well as in respect to his wife's dead relative. "But," resumed the general, "if this negro is lynched, as he well deserves to be, it will not be without its effect. We still have in reserve for the election a weapon which this affair will only render more effective.
He had gathered enough, however, to realize, in a vague way, that something serious was on foot, involving his own race, when a bell sounded over his head, at which he sprang up hastily and entered the room where the gentlemen were talking. "Jerry," said the major, "wait on Captain McBane." "Yas, suh," responded Jerry, turning toward the captain, whose eye he carefully avoided meeting directly.
Lay down yo'n, an' we'll lay down ou'n, we didn' take 'em up fust; but we ain' gwine ter let you bu'n down ou' chu'ches an' school'ouses, er dis hospittle, an' we ain' comin' out er dis house, where we ain' disturbin' nobody, fer you ter shoot us down er sen' us ter jail. You hear me!" "All right," responded McBane. "You've had fair warning.
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