Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1911-11-17
ESTABLISHED 1858.
CHAPTER /.
The Boy At the Barony.


whittier they had emigrated to escape
the malaria of the low coast, but this
no longer mattered, for the last Of his
name and race, old General Quintard,
was dead in the great house his faith
er had built almost a century before
and the thin acres Of the Barony.
where he had made his last stand
against age and poverty, were to claim
him, now that he had given up the
struggle in their midst. The two or
three old slaves about the place,
stricken with a sense of the futility OF
the fight their master had made,
mourned for him and for themselves,
but of his own blood and class none
were present.
Shy dwellers of the pine woods,
1anky jeans-clad men and sunbonnet-
ed women, who were gathering for the
burial of the famous man of their
neighborhood, grouped themselves
about the lawn which had long since
sunk to the uses Of a pasture lot.
Singly or by twos and threes they stole
I'D the steps and across the wide open
porch to the open door. On the right
of the long hall another door stood
open, and who wished could enter the
drawing room, with its splendid green
and gold paper, and the wonderful
fireplace with the Dutch tiles that
graphically depicted the story of Jo-
nah and the whale.
Here the general lay in state. The
slaves had dressed their old master in
the uniform he had worn as a colonel
of the continental line, but the thin
shoulders of the wasted figure no long
er filled the buff and blue coat. The
high-bred face, once proud and mas
terful no doubt, as became the face OF
a Quintard, spoke Of more than age
and poverty-it was infinitely sorrow
full. Yet there was something harsh
and unforgiving in the lines death had
fixed there, which might have been
taken as the visible impress of that
mystery, the bitterness Of which had
misshaped the dead mans nature; but
the resolute lips had closed for ever
on their secret, and the broken spirit
had gone perhaps to learn how poor
a thing it's pride had been.
Though he had lived continuously
at the Barony for almost quarter Of
a century, there was none among his
neighbors who could say he had look
ed on that thin, aquiline face in all
that time. Yet they had known much
of him, for the gossip Of the slaves,
who had been his only friends in those
years, had gone far and wide over the
country.
That notable man Of business, JON
athan Crenshaw-and his superiority
was especially evident when the bus
mess CHANGED to be his own-was
,closeted in the library with a strang-
er to whom rumor fixed the name OF
Bladen, supposing him to be the legal
representative of certain remote con-
nections Of the old generals.
Crenshaw sat before the flat-topped
mahogany desk in the center of the
room with several well-thumbed ac-
count books open before him. SBladen,
in riding dress, stood by the window.
'I suppose you will buy in the prop
erty when it comes up for sale?" the
latter was saying.
Mr.. Crenshaw had already made it
plain that General Quintards credit
ors would have lean pickings at the
Barony, intimating that he himself
was the chiefest of these and the one
to suffer most grievously in pocket.
Further than this, Mr.. Bladen saw
that the old house was ruin, scarcely
habitable, and that the thin acres,
though they were many and a royal
grant. were of the slightest value.
Crenshaw nodded acquescence to the
lawyers conjecture touching the ul-
innate fate of the Barony.
'I reckon, sir, I'll want to protect
myself but if there are any of his own
kin who have fancy fo' the place I'll
put no obstacle in their way"
who are the other creditors" ask
ed Bladen.
There amt none, sir; they just got
tired waiting on him, and when they
began to sue and get judgment the
old general would send me word to
settle with them. and their claims
passed into my hands. l was in too
deep to draw out. But for the last
ten years his dealings were with me;
I furnished the supplies for the place
here. 1t didn't amount to much, as
there was only him and the darkies'
and the account ran on from year to
year"
He lived entirely alone, saw no one,
| understand" said Bladen.
alone with his two or three old
slaves-yes, sir. He wouldn't even see
me: Joe, his old nigger, would fetch
orders for this or that. Once or twice
rode out to see him, but l want
even allowed inside that door; the
message l got was that he couldn't be
disturbed; and the last time come
he sent me word that if l annoyed
him again he would be forced to ter
inmate our business relations. That
was pretty strong talk, want 1t, when
Won consider that l could have sold the
roof from over his head and the land
from under his feet? Oh, WELL just
nut it down to childishness." There
was a brief pause, then CrenshaW
spoke again. Il reckon, sir, II you
know anything about the old general
private affairs you don't feel no call
to speak on that point?" he observed,
and with evident regret. He hao
hoped that Bladen would clear up the
mystery, for certainly it must nave
been some sinister tragedy that hao
cost the general his grip on life and Tor
twenty years and more had made him
a recluse, so that the faces of his
friends had become as the faces OF
strangers.
MY dear sir, l know nothing oi
General Quintards private history. l
am even unacquainted with my cli-
inc