roads of destiny-第6节

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hrod　given　of　faithful　service　to　the　house　of　Weymouth　as　chattel；　servitor；　and　friend。　Of　the　colour　of　the　mahogany　bank　furniture　was　Uncle　Bushrodthus　dark　was　he　externally；　white　as　the　uninked　pages　of　the　bank　ledgers　was　his　soul。　Eminently　pleasing　to　Uncle　Bushrod　would　the　comparison　have　been；　for　to　him　the　only　institution　in　existence　worth　considering　was　the　Weymouth　Bank；　of　which　he　was　something　between　porter　and　generalissimo…in…charge。

Weymouth　lay；　dreamy　and　umbrageous；　among　the　low　foothills　along　the　brow　of　a　Southern　valley。　Three　banks　there　were　in　Weymouthville。　Two　were　hopeless；　misguided　enterprises；　lacking　the　presence　and　prestige　of　a　Weymouth　to　give　them　glory。　The　third　was　The　Bank；　managed　by　the　Weymouthsand　Uncle　Bushrod。　In　the　old　Weymouth　homesteadthe　red　brick；　white　porticoed　mansion；　the　first　to　your　right　as　you　crossed　Elder　Creek；　coming　into　townlived　Mr。　Robert　Weymouth　（the　president　of　the　bank）；　his　widowed　daughter；　Mrs。　Vesey　called　〃Miss　Letty〃　by　every　oneand　her　two　children；　Nan　and　Guy。　There；　also　in　a　cottage　on　the　grounds；　resided　Uncle　Bushrod　and　Aunt　Malindy；　his　wife。　Mr。　William　Weymouth　（the　cashier　of　the　bank）　lived　in　a　modern；　fine　house　on　the　principal　avenue。

Mr。　Robert　was　a　large；　stout　man；　sixty…two　years　of　age；　with　a　smooth；　plump　face；　long　iron…gray　hair　and　fiery　blue　eyes。　He　was　high…tempered；　kind；　and　generous；　with　a　youthful　smile　and　a　formidable；　stern　voice　that　did　not　always　mean　what　it　sounded　like。　Mr。　William　was　a　milder　man；　correct　in　deportment　and　absorbed　in　business。　The　Weymouths　formed　The　Family　of　Weymouthville；　and　were　looked　up　to；　as　was　their　right　of　heritage。

Uncle　Bushrod　was　the　bank's　trusted　porter；　messenger；　vassal；　and　guardian。　He　carried　a　key　to　the　vault；　just　as　Mr。　Robert　and　Mr。　Williams　did。　Sometimes　there　was　ten；　fifteen；　or　twenty　thousand　dollars　in　sacked　silver　stacked　on　the　vault　floor。　It　was　safe　with　Uncle　Bushrod。　He　was　a　Weymouth　in　heart；　honesty；　and　pride。

Of　late　Uncle　Bushrod　had　not　been　without　worry。　It　was　on　account　of　Marse　Robert。　For　nearly　a　year　Mr。　Robert　had　been　known　to　indulge　in　too　much　drink。　Not　enough；　understand；　to　become　tipsy；　but　the　habit　was　getting　a　hold　upon　him；　and　every　one　was　beginning　to　notice　it。　Half　a　dozen　times　a　day　he　would　leave　the　bank　and　step　around　to　the　Merchants　and　Planters'　Hotel　to　take　a　drink。　Mr。　Roberts'　usual　keen　judgment　and　business　capacity　became　a　little　impaired。　Mr。　William；　a　Weymouth；　but　not　so　rich　in　experience；　tried　to　dam　the　inevitable　backflow　of　the　tide；　but　with　incomplete　success。　The　deposits　in　the　Weymouth　Bank　dropped　from　six　figures　to　five。　Past…due　paper　began　to　accumulate；　owing　to　injudicious　loans。　No　one　cared　to　address　Mr。　Robert　on　the　subject　of　temperance。　Many　of　his　friends　said　that　the　cause　of　it　had　been　the　death　of　his　wife　some　two　years　before。　Others　hesitated　on　account　of　Mr。　Robert's　quick　temper；　which　was　extremely　apt　to　resent　personal　interference　of　such　a　nature。　Miss　Letty　and　the　children　noticed　the　change　and　grieved　about　it。　Uncle　Bushrod　also　worried；　but　he　was　one　of　those　who　would　not　have　dared　to　remonstrate；　although　he　and　Marse　Robert　had　been　raised　almost　as　companions。　But　there　was　a　heavier　shock　coming　to　Uncle　Bushrod　than　that　caused　by　the　bank　president's　toddies　and　juleps。

Mr。　Robert　had　a　passion　for　fishing；　which　he　usually　indulged　whenever　the　season　and　business　permitted。　One　day；　when　reports　had　been　coming　in　relating　to　the　bass　and　perch；　he　announced　his　intention　of　making　a　two　or　three　days'　visit　to　the　lakes。　He　was　going　down；　he　said；　to　Reedy　Lake　with　Judge　Archinard；　an　old　friend。

Now；　Uncle　Bushrod　was　treasurer　of　the　Sons　and　Daughters　of　the　Burning　Bush。　Every　association　he　belonged　to　made　him　treasurer　without　hesitation。　He　stood　AA1　in　coloured　circles。　He　was　understood　among　them　to　be　Mr。　Bushrod　Weymouth；　of　the　Weymouth　Bank。

The　night　following　the　day　on　which　Mr。　Robert　mentioned　his　intended　fishing…trip　the　old　man　woke　up　and　rose　from　his　bed　at　twelve　o'clock；　declaring　he　must　go　down　to　the　bank　and　fetch　the　pass…book　of　the　Sons　and　Daughters；　which　he　had　forgotten　to　bring　home。　The　bookkeeper　had　balanced　it　for　him　that　day；　put　the　cancelled　checks　in　it；　and　snapped　two　elastic　bands　around　it。　He　put　but　one　band　around　other　pass…books。

Aunt　Malindy　objected　to　the　mission　at　so　late　an　hour；　denouncing　it　as　foolish　and　unnecessary；　but　Uncle　Bushrod　was　not　to　be　deflected　from　duty。

〃I　done　told　Sister　Adaline　Hoskins；〃　he　said；　〃to　come　by　here　for　dat　book　to…morrer　mawnin'　at　sebin　o'clock；　for　to　kyar'　it　to　de　meetin'　of　de　bo'd　of　'rangements；　and　dat　book　gwine　to　be　here　when　she　come。〃

So；　Uncle　Bushrod　put　on　his　old　brown　suit；　got　his　thick　hickory　stick；　and　meandered　through　the　almost　deserted　streets　of　Weymouthville。　He　entered　the　bank；　unlocking　the　side　door；　and　found　the　pass…book　where　he　had　left　it；　in　the　little　back　room　used　for　consultations；　where　he　always　hung　his　coat。　Looking　about　casually；　he　saw　that　everything　was　as　he　had　left　it；　and　was　about　to　start　for　home　when　he　was　brought　to　a　standstill　by　the　sudden　rattle　of　a　key　in　the　front　door。　Some　one　came　quickly　in；　closed　the　door　softly；　and　entered　the　counting…room　through　the　door　in　the　iron　railing。

That　division　of　the　bank's　space　was　connected　with　the　back　room　by　a　narrow　passageway；　now　in　deep　darkness。

Uncle　Bushrod；　firmly　gripping　his　hickory　stick；　tiptoed　gently　up　this　passage　until　he　could　see　the　midnight　intruder　into　the　sacred　precincts　of　the　Weymouth　Bank。　One　dim　gas…jet　burned　there；　but　even　in　its　nebulous　light　he　perceived　at　once　that　the　prowler　was　the　bank's　president。

Wondering；　fearful；　undecided　what　to　do；　the　old　coloured　man　stood　motionless　in　the　gloomy　strip　of　hallway；　and　waited　developments。

The　vault；　with　its　big　iron　door；　was　opposite　him。　Inside　that　was　the　safe；　holding　the　papers　of　value；　the　gold　and　currency　of　the　bank。　On　the　floor　of　the　vault　was；　perhaps；　eighteen　thousand　dollars　in　silver。

The　president　took　his　key　from　his　pocket；　opened　the　vault　and　went　inside；　nearly　closing　the　door　behind　him。　Uncle　Bushrod　saw；　through　the　narrow　aperture；　the　flicker　of　a　candle。　In　a　minute　or　twoit　seemed　an　hour　to　the　watcherMr。　Robert　came　out；　bringing　with　him　a　large　hand…satchel；　handling　it　in　a　careful　but　hurried　manner；　as　if　fearful　that　he　might　be　observed。　With　one　hand　he　closed　and　locked　the　vault　door。

With　a　reluctant　theory　forming　itself　beneath　his　wool；　Uncle　Bushrod　waited　and　watched；　shaking　in　his　concealing　shadow。

Mr。　Robert　set　the　satchel　softly　upon　a　desk；　and　turned　his　coat　collar　up　about　his　neck　and　ears。　He　was　dressed　in　a　rough　suit　of　gray；　as　if　for　travelling。　He　glanced　with　frowning　intentness　at　the　big　office　clock　above　the　burning　gas…jet；　and　then　looked　lingeringly　about　the　banklingeringly　and　fondly；　Uncle　Bushrod　thought；　as　one　who　bids　farewell　to　dear　and　familiar　scenes。

Now　he　caught　up　his　burden　again　and　moved　promptly　and　softly　out　of　the　bank　by　the　way　he　had　come　locking　the　front　door　behind　him。

For　a　minute　or　longer　Uncle　Bushrod　was　as　stone　in　his　tracks。　Had　that　midnight　rifler　of　safes　and　vaults　been　any　other　on　earth　than　the　man　he　was；　the　old　retainer　would　have　rushed　upon　him　and　struck　to　save　the　Weymouth　property。　But　now　the　watcher's　soul　was　tortured　by　the　poignant　dread　of　something　worse　than　mere　robbery。　He　was　seized　by　an　accusing　terror　that　said　the　Weymouth　name　and　the　Weymouth　honour　were　about　to　be　lost。　Marse　Robert　robbing　the　bank！　What　else　could　it　mean？　The　hour　of　the　night；　the　stealthy　visit　to　the　vault；　the　satchel　brought　forth　and　with　expedition　and　silence；　the　prowler's　rough　dress；　his　solicitous　reading　of　the　clock；　and　noiseless　departurewhat　else　could　it　mean？

And　then　to　the　turmoil　of　Uncle　Bushrod's　thoughts　came　the　corroborating　recollection　of　preceding　eventsMr。　Robert's　increasing　intemperance　and　consequent　many　moods　of　royal　high　spirits　and　stern　tempers；　the　casual　talk　he　had　heard　in　the　bank　of　the　decrease　in　business　and　difficulty　in　collecting　loans。　What　else　could　it　all　mean　but　that　Mr。　Robert　Weymouth　was　an　absconderwas　about　to　fly　with　the　bank's　remaining　funds；　leaving　Mr。　William；　Miss　Letty；　little　Nab；　Guy；　and　Uncle　Bushrod　to　bear　the　disgrace？

During　one　minute　Uncle　Bushrod　considered　these　things；　and　then　he　awoke　to　sudden　determination　and　action。

〃Lawd！　Lawd！〃　he　moaned　aloud；　as　he　hobbled　hastily　toward　the　side　door。　〃Sech　a　come…off　after　all　dese　here　years　of　big　doin's　and　fine　doin's。　Scan'lous　sights　upon　de　yearth　when　de　Weymouth　fambly　done　turn　out　robbers　and　'bezzlers！　Time　for　Uncle　Bushrod　to　clean　out　somebody's　chicken…coop　and　eben　matters　up。　Oh；　Lawd！　Marse　Robert；　you　ain't　gwine　do　dat。　'N　Miss　Letty　an'　dem　chillun　so　proud　and　talkin'　'Weymouth；　Weymouth；'　all　de　time！　I'm　gwine　to　stop　you　ef　I　can。　'Spec　you　shoot　Mr。　Nigger's　head　off　ef　he　fool　wid　y