[Continuing chapter sixteen]
“This has all been very interesting,” Uncle James said after Father and Mother had gone to break the news to Donald and the servants. “But I am still waiting for an explanation of the reason for my being here, Charles. And for the rather extraordinary way I’ve been treated so far this morning.”
“I am very sorry, Uncle,” Stewart said. “But look on the bright side. You at least haven’t had to give up your home.”
“Sarcasm does not become you, Charles, any more than it suits your father.”
“You might feel differently if you had seen and done the things I have in the past few months,” Stewart said. “I have watched good men die for bad causes. And I have seen bad men work diligently in causes I thought to be good.”
“For the moment I’m going to assume that the latter refers to me. Will you explain it?”
“As it turns out, I was not referring to you.” Though I could have.
“I wanted you to witness what I had to say to my parents. I don’t fully understand how you and he came to dislike each other so much, but I am willing to guess that Father would not have got himself mixed up in Jeffersonian politics, much less in conspiracy, had it not been for you.”
“That is unfair, Charles! Haven’t I looked out for you? I treated you as if—”
“Yes, exactly. Much more than you did your own son. I have always wondered how it was that Will came to resemble my father so much, while I seem to have been determined to make myself over into your image. And while I admit that I’m young and have a lot to learn, I saw the hate for you in Will’s eyes as he died, and I know that I am never going to feel that way about my father. I think I was lucky, being a younger son. I have nothing to inherit—and that includes yours and Father’s mutual dislike.”
“Very noble of you, Charles. I suppose that I shall just have to learn to get along without an heir, then.” Uncle James began to lift himself out of his chair.
“Oh, you can’t go,” Stewart said. “Not just yet.” He went to the doorway and called to his parents. “I had some reciprocity in mind before you go back to Arran.”
“What do you mean?” Uncle James asked, eyes widening.
“Yes,” Father said, entering the room. “What sort of reciprocity?”
Charles directed Mother to a chair before answering. “You two should never have been estranged, you know,” he said, turning so that his words and gestures encompassed both Father and Uncle James. “You are in so many ways alike.”
“I protest,” Father said.
“It’s true,” Stewart said. “Take conspiracy, for example.”
“What?” Both Father and Mother had spoken; Uncle James, Stewart noted, had settled back into a sullen silence.
“You were right, Father, about my not taking you into my confidence,” Stewart said. “Of course, I was sworn to secrecy by a superior officer, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have asked your advice. If I’m honest with myself, I had doubts about what Uncle James was up to, right from the start.”
“Be careful, boy,” Uncle James said. He had tried to project a growl, but his voice pitched too high and too hoarse.
“I’m the son of an accused traitor who’s about to flee the country,” Stewart said with a bitter laugh. “How much more trouble can I get into?”
He turned back to Father. “I wanted Uncle James to know what you’d been doing, Father. I also wanted you to know what he’s been up to. Uncle James is part of another conspiracy, this one to filibuster the Republic of Texas and bring it by force into the Confederacy.”
“It is not a filibuster!” Uncle James shouted, rising. “We were asked to organize the expedition.”
“I’m sure,” Stewart said, “that there are some in Texas who would like to join the Confederacy—or at least be rid of the current government down there. But tell me, Uncle: if you were asked, why the need for secrecy? Why is the only Confederate military officer taking part in this invasion an over-eager boy who was prepared to see me die in order to keep the filibuster a secret? If I go to President Crockett with my story, will he assure me that he already knows all about it?”
Uncle James, his face pale, sank back into his chair. Father, to Stewart’s surprise, stared at his elder brother for a second, then began to laugh.
“In a way,” Stewart said to Uncle James, “you only have yourself to blame. It was you who encouraged me to study, to observe, to try to be more of a soldier. If I’d stayed the boy I was last winter, I’d have found a way to ride with Colonel Walker and Captain Patton. No, ex-Captain Patton. In his determination to do right by you, the fool resigned his commission. Instead of joining him, though, I found myself asking a lot of questions about Walker’s expedition, and the only answers I could come up with reflect rather poorly on you and your friends, Uncle.”
Father was still laughing, mostly silently now, tears in his eyes. Eventually he got himself under control enough to face his brother. “I think we’ve got what we deserved, here,” he said. “Charles has become what we both wanted. Hasn’t he?”
“I don’t find it at all amusing,” Uncle James said. Turning to Stewart he added, “And you, Charles, should have been more careful. You may just have placed yourself in grave risk.”
“James,” Mother said. Stewart was surprised at the amount of danger and anger she was able to pack into that single syllable.
“It’s all right, Mother,” Stewart said. “I knew what I was doing when I decided to confront you all like this. Studying generals,” he said to Uncle James, “has helped me a lot, just as you suggested it would. I’ve also learned a lot from politicians. You, Uncle, should have spent more time with the sorts of men I’ve been working for.”
When Uncle James raised a finger in protest, Stewart said, “I know how dangerous your friends are, Uncle. In fact, that’s the big difference between what you’ve been up to and what Father’s been doing. I have no idea who Father’s friends are. When he leaves Virginia, those secrets go with him.
“Whereas not only do I know who your friends are, I’ve been witness to their planning.” He turned to his parents. “There is always the chance that my guesses about Uncle James and his friends are wrong, and that what they’re doing, however distasteful I’ve come to find it, has the approval of at least the president. If that’s the case, I will be happy to apologize to Uncle James.”
He turned to his uncle. “But I won’t do that until I know all the truth. And I won’t know all of the truth until I’ve been to Texas.”
Now all three stared at him, open-mouthed.
“It’s not what I would have wanted,” he said. “At the end of the day, I still think that my place is with my regiment, until we’ve secured our freedom. But there are different forms of duty, and right now I’m the only one who can find out this particular truth.”
“Texas is likely to be a dangerous place,” Father said, rubbing red-rimmed eyes.
“I know. Uncle James had best hope that God sees fit to preserve me, though. Because I’ve written down all that I know about Colonel Walker and the Texas filibuster,” Stewart said. “All of it. My report is with General Lee right now, sealed. The general has agreed to hold it for me, unopened, until I return. The moment he receives word of my death, he is to open the package and forward its contents to President Crockett and Governor-General Byron in Canada.”
“You’re going to tell the Canadians and British?”
“Uncle, you should be thankful I’m not telling the Federals.” Stewart grinned. “Of course, if everything is as you say it is, then you’ve nothing to fear. Your plantation, your place in society, your reputation—all are quite safe.”
Stewart walked to the door. “We should probably start getting the horses harnessed to the wagon,” he said.
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