Theodore Goodridge Roberts

“ The exchange of glances never lasted more than a moment. The overseer's eyes, always dull and humble on these occasions, seemed ever eager to shift or lower. And yet they gripped Mr. Dick with an emotion like fear. It was from one of the house-servants that Mr. Dick first learned of the unpleasant effect of John Gort's eyes on all the coloured folks, and of how those same eyes distressed a white man no more than the regard of a calf. ”

“ Dick devoted a day to visiting his three plantations, accompanied by Mr. Tomilson and two subalterns from the garrison, and escorted over each estate by the anxious and deferential manager thereof. He was greatly pleased with all that he saw. For the first time in his life his wealth meant more to him than mere comfort and freedom from care. Pride of possession and love of land awoke in his heart, even as it had once awakened in the heart of his grandfather. On this first tour of inspection he failed to notice John Gort. ”

“ Dick at last closed his eyes, convinced that his fears had been idle fancies, and that he had stood the test gloriously. He was an Anglo-Saxon and a scholar. The thin strain of slave's blood in his veins had been absorbed and obliterated by the strong tide of dominant English blood, by his own and his father's scholarship, and by two generations of the highest civilisation in Europe. ”

“ Dick sat very still in his chair. He was cool and collected—his blood cool and his mind clear. He had decided to make a real test of his quality, and to shape his future by the result of the test. John Gort was the only man whom he had ever met who seemed to have the power to lay bare and dominate the dark, weak strain in him. This man's eyes were terrible to all persons of African blood. ”

“ One of my ancestors was so proud of being connected with the family that he named his son after it—gave him Gort for a Christian name. That was just before the first downward slide."
"It is certainly tragic," said Mr. Dick.
"Yes, sir," returned young Biglow. "I often tremble when I think that the same thing might have happened to any of us. The Scarletts were once planters, but they are all 'red-legs' now. A branch of the Todd family went down about seventy years ago. We Biglows have been on the verge a dozen times, always through poverty. Once down is always down in that game." ”

“ Dick.
"Yes, sir, the only one," replied Biglow.
"Why is that?"
"Well, sir, there are not more than a dozen of them in the whole island. You see, it is a black man's job, or a 'red-leg's,' and very few 'red-legs' have energy enough to make good overseers. They are a lazy, unambitious lot, sir. Gort is a good man at his job—better than the average black overseer, perhaps—but he is exceptional."
"So Gort is ambitious?"
"Not what we understand by the term, sir. He has more energy than the average 'red-leg,' and almost as much as the average negro, and he attends faithfully to his work. ”

“ He was a white man, but of that humble class that is known in the island by the term of "red-leg." That is to say, he was held in no more consideration than the black field-hands on the estates, despite the fact of his pure white blood. He was poor, ignorant, without pride and without ambition. And yet he was not exactly like his brother "red-legs." He possessed a peculiarity that had been his from birth.
At the time of Mr. Dick's mental struggle and self-questioning in London, John Gort was an overseer on the Victory plantation, in Bados. His two brother-overseers on the place were blacks. ”

“ Through poverty, sir, and the climate, and the conditions that formerly existed in the island. Once a family lost its money, in the old days, down it went. Now conditions are better. A white man can keep books and his self-respect at one and the same time; and, with half an education, one can always go to the States or Canada, and find white man's work. But, speaking of the fellow Gort, sir, are you interested in history? ”

“ On more than one occasion he had turned that grey, diabolical regard on white men in the town—on clerks in shops and sailors from the ships—with no other results than inquiring glances in return, haughty glares, requests for him to go and put his ugly block in a bag, and threatening inquiries as to what to hell he thought he was gawking at. ”

“ The rich and scholarly proprietor and the poor and ignorant overseer became aware of one another's presence at one and the same moment. John Gort halted for a second, touched a finger to the brim of his shabby hat, then shuffled awkwardly on his way. Mr. Dick chirruped to his horse and moved along beside the overseer. ”

“ He is not interested in his ancestors, and is perfectly contented with his lot."
Mr. Dick rode in to the garrison after dinner, and played several rubbers of bridge; but when he went to bed, tired though he was, he lay awake for hours.
During the following week Mr. Dick managed to exchange a few words with Gort, and met the regard of those strange grey eyes several times. Each time, at the glance of the overseer's eyes, he felt again that sinking, fluttering sensation in his breast; but, with a sharp effort of will, he always managed to maintain control of his facial expression. ”

“ Then came the first slump in the cane-sugar market, followed immediately by the first slump in sugar-producing land. Luxury-loving planters needed money. Mr. Dick had it to oblige them. Some wanted to sell portions of their plantations in a hurry. Mr. Dick was ready to buy, just to oblige the proud gentlemen who were momentarily dismayed by the weakness of the sugar market. Mr. Dick did a great deal of figuring, the result of which was a conviction that sugar land was good property, even with the market for the produce in its present state. ”