Newark evening star and Newark advertiser. [volume] (Newark, N.J.) 1909-1916, 1913-08-02
CHAPTER VI.
A valiant of Virginia.

nor long time John Valiant sat
Z motionless, the opened letter IN
his hand. staring at nothing. he
had the sensation, spiritually, OF a
traveller awakened with a rude shock
amid wholly unfamiliar surround
ings. He had passed through SO
many conflicting states OF eInolloh
that afternoon and evening that ne
felt numb.
He was trying to remember-to put
two and two together. His fatner
had been Southern born; yes, ne mao
known that. But he had known
nothing whatever of his fathers
early days, or of his forebears; since
he had been old enough to wonder
about such things, he had no one TO
ask questions of. There bad been no
private papers or letters left for MS
adult perusal. 1t had been borne
upon him very early that his father
! life had not been a happy one. he
had seldom laughed and his hair
had been streaked with gray, yet
when he died he had been but ten
| years older than the son was now.
/ Phrases of the letter ran through
his mind: Sometimes, perhaps, you
will Know why you are John Valiant.
F, of New York, instead of John Valiant,
| of Damory Court. / cannot
| tell you myself" There was some
| tragedy, then, that had blighted the
place. some melancholy story, as the
clipping put 1t.
He bent over the deed spread out
upon the table, following with his
finger the long line of transfers: To
John Valyante, he muttered; what
odd spelling! Robert Valyant-
without the 'e.' Here, in 1880, the "
! L Fyl.
thing strenuous and appealing in the
long line of dates. valiant Always
Valiant. How they held on to it!
/ There's never a break"
A curious pride, newborn and self
conscious, was dawning in him. He
was descended from ancestors who
had been no weaklings. A Valiant
had settled on those acres under a
royal governor, before the old frontier
fighting was over and the Indians had
sullenly retired to the westward. The
sons of those who had braved sea and
savages had bowed their strong bodies
and their stronger hearts to rae the
forests and turn the primeval jungles
into golden plantations. Except as
regarded his father, Valiant had never
known ancestral pride before. He had
been proud of his strong and healthy
frame, of his ability to ride like a
dragon, unconsciously, perhaps. lit
tie proud of his wealth. But pride in
the larger sense, reverence for the
past based upon a respect for ancient
lineage, he had never known until
this moment.
Where was his facetious concept of
Virginia now? He remembered his
characterization of it with a wincing
half-humorous mortification-a slen-
der needle-prick of shame. The empty
pretensions, subsisting on the van
ished glories of the past, had suddenly
acquired character and meaning. He
himself was a Virginian,
There below him stretched the great
canoned city, its avenues roaring with
nightly gaiety, it's roadways bright
witt the beams of shutting motors,
it's theatres and cafes brilliant with
women in throbbing hues and men in
black and white, and it's Great White
Way" blazing with incandescents, in
terminable and alluring-an apotheo-
sis of fevered movement and hectic
color He knew suddenly that he was
sick of it all: it's jostle and glitter, its
mad race after bubbles, it's hideous
under surface contrasts of wealth and
squalor, its lukewarm friendships and
false standards which he had been so
bitterly unlearning. He knew that for
all his self-pity, he was at heart full
of a tired longing for wide uncrowded
nature, for green breezy interludes
! and sky of untainted sunlight or
peaceful stars.
There stole into his mood an eery
suggestion of intention. Why should
the date assigned for that deeds de-
livery have been the very day on
! which he had elected poverty? Here
was REORGANIZATION as pointed as the
index-finger of a guide-post. EVERY
man carries his fate he repeated,
on a riband about his neck Chun1,
do you believe in fate?"
For answer the bulldog, cooking an
alert eye on his master, discontinued
his occupation-a conscientious If UNI
successful mastication of the flattis9
packet that had fallen from the
| folded deed-and with much solicitous
tail-wagging. brought the sodden
thing in his mouth and put it into the
outstretched hand.
| His master unrolled the pulpy wad
! and extricated the object it had en-
| closed-an old-fashioned iron door
key
After time Valiant thrust the key
into his pocket, and rising, went to
q trunk that lay against the wall.
searching IN a portfolio he took ont
a small old-fashioned photograph.
much battered and soiled tt had
! been cut from a larger group and the
name of the photographer had been
erased from the back He set ii up
right on the desk, and bending for
ward looked long at the face it dis
closed. 1t was the only picture ne
had ever possessed of his father.
He turned and looked into the glass
above the dresser. The features were
the same. eyes, brow. lips. and strong
waving hair. But for its time-stains
the photograph might have been ono
of himself. taken yesterday.
| For an hour he sat in the bright
light thinking, the pictured face
propped on the desk before him, the
dog Struggled against his knee.
CHAPTER VII