William Monk 11 - Slaves of Obsession

listen. She still seemed unaware of Monk’s presence. Her voice rose even more shrilly as her outrage drove her on. “Yes, it is! You are selling guns to people who keep slaves, and they are at war with their countrymen who want to prevent that and set the slaves free.” She flung her arm out furiously. “Money! It’s all about money, and it’s pure evil! I don’t know how you, my own father, can even try to justify it, let alone be part of it. You are selling death to people who will use it in the worst possible cause!”
    Breeland moved as if to put his hand on her arm.
    At last Alberton’s temper gave way. “Merrit, be quiet! You don’t know what you are talking about! Leave us alone.…”
    “I won’t! I can’t,” she protested. “I do know what I am talking about. Lyman has told me. And so do you, that’s the worst of it! You know, and still you are prepared to do it!” She took a step towards him, ignoring Monk and Breeland, her face crumpled, brows drawn down. “Please, Papa! Please, for the sake of all the enslaved, for the sake of justice and freedom, above all for your own sake, sell the guns tothe Union, not to the Rebels! Just say you can’t support slavery. You won’t even lose any money … Lyman can pay you the whole amount.”
    “It’s not about money.” Alberton’s voice was also louder now, and sharp with hurt. “For God’s sake, Merrit, you know me better than that!” He ignored Breeland as if he had not been present. “I gave my word to Trace and I won’t break it. I don’t agree with slavery any more than you do, but I don’t agree with the Union’s forcing the South to remain part of it under their government either, if they don’t want to! There are lots of different kinds of freedom. There’s freedom from hunger and the bondage of poverty as well as the sort of slavery you’re talking about. There’s—”
    “Sophistry!” she said, her face flooding with color. “You’re happy enough to live here and make your own way. You aren’t standing for Parliament to try to change our lives to stop hunger and oppression. You’re a hypocrite!” It was the worst word she could think of, and the bitterness of it was in her eyes and her voice.
    Breeland stared coldly at Alberton. It seemed at last he understood that he would not change his mind. If all that Merrit had said did not affect him, there was nothing else for him to add.
    “I am sorry that you have seen fit to act against us, sir,” he said stiffly. “But we shall prevail, nevertheless. We shall obtain what we need in order to win, whatever sacrifice it requires of us and whatever the cost.” And with only a glance at Merrit, as if knowing she would understand, he turned on his heel and strode out. They heard his footsteps move sharply across the wooden floor of the hall.
    Merrit stared at her father, her eyes hot and wretched. “I hate everything you stand for!” she said furiously. “I despise it so much I am ashamed that I live under your roof or that you paid for the food in my mouth and the clothes on my back!” And she too ran out, her feet light and rapid, heels clattering across the floor and up the stairs.
    Alberton looked at Monk.
    “I am profoundly sorry, Monk,” he said miserably. “I had no idea you would be subjected to such unpleasantness. I can only apologize.”
    Before he could add anything further, Judith Alberton appeared at the door. She looked a little pale, and quite obviously she had overheard at least the last part of the argument. She glanced at Monk, embarrassed, then at her husband.
    “I am afraid she is in love with Mr. Breeland,” she said awkwardly. “Or she thinks she is.” She watched Alberton with anxiety. “It may take a little while, Daniel, but she will think better of this. She’ll be sorry she spoke so …” She faltered, uncertain what word she could use.
    Monk took the opportunity to excuse himself. He had said all he had meant to about his enquiry. The Albertons should be permitted privacy in which to resolve their difficulties.
    “I shall keep you informed of everything else I hear,” he promised.
    “Thank you,” Alberton said warmly, holding out his hand. “I … I am very sorry for this unpleasantness. I am afraid emotions run very high in this American affair. I think we have barely seen the beginning of it.”
    Monk feared he was correct, but he said no more, wishing them good night and allowing the butler to show him out.
    He woke