The Entailed Hat | Page 9

their wings in the
surface, and, flying upward, seemed also sinking down. As Meshach
felt the chill of that pond he drew down his hat and buttoned up his
coat.
"The earliest fools who turned up the bog ores for wealth," he said,
"released the miasmas which slew all the people roundabout. They
killed all my family, but set me free."
CHAPTER IV.
DISCOVERY OF THE HEIRLOOM.
Judge Custis was in his bedroom, in the second story of the large,
inn-like mansion at the middle of the village, and he was just
recovering from the effects of a long wassail. In his peculiar nervous
condition he started at the sound of wheels, and, drawing his curtains,
looked out upon the long shadow of an advancing figure crowned with
a steeple hat.

This human shadow strengthened and faded in the alternating light,
until it was defined against his storehouse, his warehouse, his cabins,
and the plain, and it seemed also against the wall of dense forest pines.
Then footsteps ascended the stairs. His door opened and Meshach
Milburn, with his holiday hat on his head, stood on the threshold; his
eyes vigilant and bold as ever, and all his Indian nature to the front.
"My God, Milburn!" exclaimed the Judge, "odd as it is to see you here,
I am relieved. Old Nick, I thought, was coming."
"Shall I come in?" asked Milburn.
"Yes; I'm sleeping off a little care and business. Let your man stay
outside on the porch. Draw up a chair. It's money, I suppose, that brings
you here?"
The money-lender carefully put his formidable hat upon a table, took a
distant chair, pushed his gaitered feet out in front, and laid a large
wallet or pocket-book on his lap. Then, addressing his whole attention
to the host, he appeared never to wink while he remained.
"Judge Custis," he said, straightforwardly, "the first time you came to
borrow money from me, you said that Nassawongo furnace would
enrich this county and raise the value of my land."
"Yes, Milburn. It was a slow enterprise, but it's coming all right. I
shipped a thousand tons last year."
"Judge Custis," continued the money-lender, "I told you, when you
made the first loan, that I would investigate this ore. I did so years ago.
Specimens were sent by me to Baltimore and tested there. Not content
with that, I have studied the manufacture of iron for myself--the society
of Princess Anne not grudging me plenty of solitude!--and I know that
every ton of iron you make costs more than you get for it. The bog ore
is easy to smelt; but it is corrupted by phosphate of iron and is barely
marketable."
The Judge was sitting with eyes wide open, and paler than before.

"You have found that out?" he whispered. "I did not know it myself
until within this year--so help me God!"
"I knew it before I made you the second loan."
"Why did you not tell me?"
"Because you forbade our relations to be anything but commercial. I
was not bound to betray my knowledge."
"Why did you, then, from a commercial view, lend me large sums of
money again and again?"
"Because," said the money-lender, coolly, "you had other security. You
have a daughter!"
Judge Custis broke from the bed-covers and rushed upon Meshach
Milburn.
"Heathen and devil!" he shouted, taking the money-lender by the throat,
"do you dare to mention her as part of your mortgage?"
They struggled together until a powerful pair of hands pinioned the
Judge, and bore him back to his bed. Samson Hat was the man.
"Judge!" he exclaimed, gentle, but firm, "you is a good man, but not as
good as me. Cool off, Judge!"
"I expected this scene," said Meshach Milburn. "It could not have been
avoided. I was bound in conscience and in common-sense to make you
the only proposition which could save you from ruin. For, Judge Custis,
you are a ruined man!"
Overcome with excitement and suspended stimulation, the old Judge
fell back on his pillow and began to sob.
"Give him brandy," said Meshach Milburn, "here is the bottle! He
needs it now."

The wretched gentleman eagerly drank the proffered draught from the
negro's hands. His fury did not revive, and he covered his face with his
palms and moaned piteously.
"Judge Custis," remarked Meshach Milburn, "if the apparent social
distance between us could be lessened by any argument, I might make
one. For the difference is in appearance only. The healthy flesh which
gives you and yours stature and beauty is a matter of food alone. My
stock has survived five generations of such diet as has bent the spines
of the forest pigs and stunted the oxen. Money and family joy will give
me children comely again.