The Crystal City Page 0,68

Mary. "There are five thousand of us, and we'd rather have your help offered freely. But if we have to, we'll just take what we need. We have hundreds of hungry children among us, and we don't mean for them to go hungry."

"You get out of my house," said Roy. "You just get out of here."

For the first time, Mother spoke. "You are young," she said. "But it is the essence of dignity to pretend to desire what you cannot prevent."

"My father'll shoot you down like dogs when he gets home."

"Roy!" A woman's voice came from the hall, and a frail-looking woman came into view behind him, wan and bedraggled from sleep, a robe drawn around her shoulders. "Roy, in my house we will be polite."

"They're a bunch of runaways from Barcy, Mama! They're threatening to take food and such from us."

"That's no reason not to be polite," said the woman. "I am Ruth Cottoner, mistress of this house. Please forgive my ill-mannered son."

"You shouldn't apologize for me, Mama, not to thieves and liars!"

"If I weren't so ill, I'd have reared him better," said Ruth sadly.

Then she pulled up a musket that she had been holding behind her leg. She aimed it straight at Rien and before Mary could even scream, she pulled the trigger.

The gunpowder fizzled and sparked, and a double handful of smallshot dribbled out the end of the barrel.

"How odd," said Ruth. "My husband said it was loaded and ready to fire."

Arthur Stuart appeared behind her. "It was," he said. "But sometimes guns just don't do what you tell them."

She turned around to face him, and now for the first time there was fear on her face. "Whose slave are you! What are you doing in my house!"

"I'm no man's slave," said Arthur Stuart, "nor any woman's neither. I'm just a fellow who doesn't take kindly to folks pointing muskets at my friends."

La Tia appeared behind him. "Ma'am," she said, "you lay down that foolish gun and sit." La Tia was carrying a tray with a pitcher of lemonade and six glasses. "We gonna have a talk, us."

"You leave my mother alone!" shouted Roy. And he made as if to shove at La Tia. But Arthur Stuart was already there and caught his wrists and held him.

"You will die for laying a hand on my son," said Ruth.

"We'll all die someday," said Arthur Stuart. "Now you heard the lady. Set."

"You have invaded my home."

"This ain't no home," said Arthur Stuart. "This is a prison, where sixty black people are held captive against their will. You are one of the captors, and for this crime you surely deserve terrible punishment, ma'am. But we ain't here to punish nobody, so maybe you best be keeping your thoughts of punishing us to yourself. Now set."

She sat. Arthur propelled Roy to another chair and made sure he, too, sat down.

La Tia put the tray on the small serving table and began to fill the glasses with lemonade. "Just so you know," said La Tia, "we notice that some fool has lock all the black folk into their cabins. In the heat of the day, that be so mean to do."

"So I let them all out," said Arthur. "They're drinking their fill at the pump right now, but pretty soon they'll be helping our company find places to camp on your lawns and in your barns, and setting out a supper to feed five thousand. It's like being in the Bible, don't you think?"

"We don't have food enough for so many!" said Ruth.

"If you don't, we'll impose on the hospitality of some of your neighbors."

"My husband will be back any time! Very soon!"

"We'll be watching for him," said Arthur. "I don't think you need to fret-we won't let him accidentally hurt somebody."

Mary couldn't help but admire how cool he was, as if he was enjoying this. And yet there was no malice in it.

"He'll raise the county and have you all hanged!" said Roy.

"Even the women and children?" asked Arthur Stuart mildly. "That's a dangerous precedent. Fortunately, we aren't killers, so we won't hang you."

"I bet Mr. Tutor's already run for help," said Roy smugly.

"I take it Mr. Tutor is that soft-bodied white man who has read more books than he understood."

Roy nodded.

"He's standing out in the yard with his pants down around his ankles, while some of the illiterate black folks are reading to him from the Bible. It seems they heard him make a big deal about how black folks