University of Virginia Library

29. CHAPTER XXIX.
“ALL OVER.”

Clayton, at the time of the violent assault which we have
described, received an injury upon the head which rendered
him insensible.

When he came to himself, he was conscious at first only
of a fanning of summer breezes. He opened his eyes, and
looked listlessly up into the blue sky, that appeared through
the thousand leafy hollows of waving boughs. Voices of birds
warbling and calling, like answering echoes, to each other,
fell dreamily on his ear. Some gentle hand was placing
bandages about his head; and figures of women, he did not
recognize, moved whisperingly around him, tending and
watching.

He dropped asleep again, and thus for many hours lay in
a kind of heavy trance.

Harry and Lisette had vacated, for his use, their hut; but,
as it was now the splendid weather of October, when earth
and sky become a temple of beauty and serenity, they
tended him during the hours of the day in the open air,
and it would seem as if there were no art of healing like to
this. As air and heat and water all have a benevolent tendency
to enter and fill up a vacuum, so we might fancy the
failing vitality of the human system to receive accessions
of vigor by being placed in the vicinity of the healthful
growths of nature. All the trees which John saw around
the river of life and heaven bore healing leaves; and there
may be a sense in which the trees of our world bear leaves
that are healing both to body and soul. He who hath gone

out of the city, sick, disgusted, and wearied, and lain himself
down in the forest, under the fatherly shadow of an
oak, may have heard this whispered to him in the leafy rustlings
of a thousand tongues.

“See,” said Dred to Harry, as they were watching over
the yet insensible form of Clayton, “how the word of the
Lord is fulfilled on this people. He shall deliver them,
every man, into the hand of his neighbor; and he that
departeth from evil maketh himself a prey!”

“Yes,” said Harry; “but this is a good man; he stands
up for our rights. If he had his way, we should soon have
justice done us.”

“Yes,” said Dred, “but it is even as it was of old;
`behold I send unto you prophets and wise men, and some
of them shall ye slay. For this people's heart is waxed
gross, and their ears have they closed. Therefore, the Lord
shall bring upon this generation the blood of all the slain,
from the blood of righteous Abel to the blood of Zacharias,
the son of Barachias, whom they slew between the temple
and the altar.'”

After a day or two spent in a kind of listless dreaming,
Clayton was so far recovered as to be able to sit up and
look about him. The serene tranquillity of the lovely October
skies seemed to fall like a spell upon his soul.

Amidst the wild and desolate swamp, here was an island
of security, where nature took men to her sheltering bosom.
A thousand birds, speaking with thousand airy voices, were
calling from breezy tree-tops, and from swinging cradles of
vine-leaves; white clouds sailed, in changing and varying
islands, over the heavy green battlements of the woods.
The wavering slumberous sound of thousand leaves, through
which the autumn air walked to and fro, consoled him.
Life began to look to him like a troubled dream, forever
past. His own sufferings, the hours of agony and death
which he had never dared to remember, seemed now to

wear a new and glorified form. Such is the divine power
in which God still reveals himself through the lovely and
incorruptible forms of nature.

Clayton became interested in Dred, as a psychological
study. At first he was silent and reserved, but attended
to the wants of his guest with evident respect and kindness.
Gradually, however, the love of expression, which lies hidden
in almost every soul, began to unfold itself in him, and
he seemed to find pleasure in a sympathetic listener. His
wild jargon of hebraistic phrases, names, and allusions, had
for Clayton, in his enfeebled state, a quaint and poetic interest.
He compared him, in his own mind, to one of those
old rude Gothic doorways, so frequent in European cathedrals,
where scriptural images, carved in rough granite,
mingle themselves with a thousand wayward, fantastic
freaks of architecture; and sometimes he thought, with a
sigh, how much might have been accomplished by a soul so
ardent and a frame so energetic, had they been enlightened
and guided.

Dred would sometimes come, in the shady part of the
afternoon, and lie on the grass beside him, and talk for hours
in a quaint, rambling, dreamy style, through which there
were occasional flashes of practical ability and shrewdness.

He had been a great traveller — a traveller through regions
generally held inaccessible to human foot and eye.
He had explored not only the vast swamp-girdle of the
Atlantic, but the everglades of Florida, with all their strange
and tropical luxuriance of growth; he had wandered along
the dreary and perilous belt of sand which skirts the
southern Atlantic shores, full of quicksands and of dangers,
and there he had mused of the eternal secret of the tides,
with whose restless, never-ceasing rise and fall the soul
of man has a mysterious sympathy. Destitute of the light
of philosophy and science, he had revolved in the twilight of
his ardent and struggling thoughts the causes of natural
phenomena, and settled these questions for himself by theories
of his own. Sometimes his residence for weeks had

been a stranded hulk, cast on one of these inhospitable
shores, where he fasted and prayed, and fancied that
answering voices came to him in the moaning of the wind
and the sullen swell of the sea.

Our readers behold him now, stretched on the grass beside
the hut of Harry and Lisette, in one of his calmest and
most communicative moods.

The children, with Lisette and the women, were searching
for grapes in a distant part of the enclosure; and Harry,
with the other fugitive man, had gone to bring in certain
provisions which were to have been deposited for them in a
distant part of the swamp by some of their confederates on
one of the plantations. Old Tiff was hoeing potatoes diligently
in a spot not very far distant, and evidently listening
to the conversation with an ear of shrewd attention.

“Yes,” said Dred, with that misty light in his eye which
one may often have remarked in the eye of enthusiasts,
“the glory holds off, but it is coming! Now is the groaning
time! That was revealed to me when I was down at
Okerecoke, when I slept three weeks in the hulk of a ship
out of which all souls had perished.”

“Rather a dismal abode, my friend,” said Clayton, by
way of drawing him on to conversation.

“The Spirit drove me there,” said Dred, “for I had besought
the Lord to show unto me the knowledge of things
to come; and the Lord bade me to go from the habitations
of men, and to seek out the desolate places of the sea, and
dwell in the wreck of a ship that was forsaken for a sign of
desolation unto this people. So I went and dwelt there,
and the Lord called me Amraphal, because hidden things of
judgment were made known unto me. And the Lord
showed unto me that even as a ship which is forsaken of
the waters, wherein all flesh have died, so shall it be with
the nation of the oppressor.”

“How did the Lord show you this?” said Clayton, bent
upon pursuing his inquiry.

“Mine ear received it in the night season,” said Dred,

“and I heard how the whole creation groaneth and travaileth,
waiting for the adoption; and because of this he hath
appointed the tide.”

“I don't see the connection,” said Clayton. “Why because
of this?”

“Because,” said Dred, “every day is full of labor, but
the labor goeth back again into the seas. So that travail
of all generations hath gone back, till the desire of all nations
shall come, and He shall come with burning and with
judgment, and with great shakings; but in the end thereof
shall be peace. Wherefore, it is written that in the new
heavens and the new earth there shall be no more sea.”

These words were uttered with an air of solemn, assured
confidence, that impressed Clayton strangely. Something
in his inner nature seemed to recognize in them a shadow
of things hoped for. He was in that mood into which the
mind of him who strives with the evils of this world must
often fall — a mood of weariness and longing; and heard
within him the cry of the human soul, tempest-tossed and
not comforted, for rest and assurance of the state where
there shall be no more sea.

“So, then,” he said unto Dred, “so, then, you believe
that these heavens and earth shall be made new.”

“Assuredly,” said Dred. “And the King shall reign in
righteousness. He shall deliver the needy when he crieth,
— the poor and him that hath no helper. He shall redeem
their souls from deceit and violence. He shall sit upon a
white cloud, and the rainbow shall be round about his head.
And the elect of the Lord shall be kings and priests on the
earth.”

“And do you think you shall be one of them?” said
Clayton.

Dred gave a kind of inward groan.

“Not every one that prophesieth in his name shall be
found worthy!” he said. “I have prayed the Lord, but he
hath not granted me the assurance. I am the rod of his

wrath, to execute vengeance on his enemies. Shall the axe
magnify itself against him that lifteth it?”

The conversation was here interrupted by Harry, who,
suddenly springing from the tree, came up, in a hurried and
agitated manner.

“The devil is broke loose!” he said. “Tom Gordon is
out, with his whole crew at his heels, beating the swamp!
A more drunken, swearing, ferocious set I never saw!
They have got on to the trail of poor Jim, and are tracking
him without mercy!”

A dark light flashed from Dred's eye, as he sprang upon
his feet.

“The voice of the Lord shaketh the wilderness; yea, the
wilderness of Kadesh. I will go forth and deliver him!”

He seized his rifle and shot-bag, and in a few moments
was gone. It was Harry's instinct to have followed him;
but Lisette threw herself, weeping, on his neck.

“Don't go — don't!” she said. “What shall we all do
without you? Stay with us! You 'll certainly be killed,
and you can do no good!”

“Consider,” said Clayton, “that you have not the familiarity
with these swamps, nor the wonderful physical power
of this man. It would only be throwing away your life.”

The hours of that day passed gloomily. Sometimes the
brutal sound of the hunt seemed to sweep near them, — the
crack of rifles, the baying of dogs, the sound of oaths, —
and then again all went off into silence, and nothing was
heard but the innocent patter of leaf upon leaf, and the
warbling of the birds, singing cheerily, ignorant of the
abyss of cruelty and crime over which they sang.

Towards sunset a rustling was heard in the branches of
the oak, and Dred dropped down into the enclosure, wet,
and soiled, and wearied. All gathered round him, in a moment.

“Where is Jim?” asked Harry.

“Slain!” said Dred. “The archers pressed him sore,
and he hath fallen in the wilderness!”

There was a general exclamation of horror. Dred made
a movement to sit down on the earth. He lost his balance,
and fell; and they all saw now, what at first they had not
noticed, a wound in his breast, from which the blood was
welling. His wife fell by his side, with wild moans of sorrow.
He lifted his hand, and motioned her from him.

“Peace,” he said, “peace! It is enough! Behold, I
go unto the witnesses who cry day and night!”

The circle stood around him in mute horror and surprise.
Clayton was the first who had presence of mind to kneel
and stanch the blood. Dred looked at him; his calm,
large eyes filled with supernatural light.

“All over!” he said.

He put his hand calmly to his side, and felt the gushing
blood. He took some in his hand and threw it upward,
crying out, with wild energy, in the words of an ancient
prophet,

“O, earth, earth, earth! Cover thou not my blood!”

Behind the dark barrier of the woods the sun was setting
gloriously. Piles of loose, floating clouds, which all day
long had been moving through the sky in white and silvery
stillness, now one after another took up the rosy flush, and
became each one a light-bearer, filled with ethereal radiance.
And the birds sang on as they ever sing, unterrified by the
great wail of human sorrow.

It was evident to the little circle that He who is mightier
than the kings of the earth was there, and that that splendid
frame, which had so long rejoiced in the exuberance of
health and strength, was now to be resolved again into the
eternal elements.

“Harry,” he said, “lay me beneath the heap of witness.
Let the God of their fathers judge between us!”