The apparition was first seen by Jefferson near the end of March. He awoke
one morning to find it standing over him as he lay in bed. It was bright
sunlight already so there was no chance of misidentification. Its appearance
was that of a male negro, powerfully built but hunched, dressed in tattered
clothing and wrists bound in shackles. His hair was grey and grizzled, his eyes
red and staring, and he was bleeding, slowly but profusely, from great welts
everywhere on his body.
Jefferson's first reaction,
was, of course, shock. Punishment as severe as this man had suffered was not
allowed at his plantation, certainly not when he was present, and this man was
no one he knew. Was he sure of this? Yes, he was quite familiar with all the
residents of the plantation. Might he have been a passing fugitive? It was
unlikely such a one could have made it into his bedroom.
He reached for the bell-pull
to summon his valet, and in the fraction of a second the figure had
disappeared. He jumped up and examined the room, and no trace could be found.
The door was locked from the inside, the windows secure. Was there any chance of
a hidden door or chamber, through which a trickster might have made an exit?
Mr. Jefferson was quite familiar with the layout of his house, having built and
rebuilt it many times over the years. There was not an inch that he did not
know intimately, not a space unaccounted for.
After a moment he dismissed
it as a leftover fragment of dream and began his day. He is sure he told no one
of the incident, not even his daughter. That is what made what followed more
inexplicable.
A week later, he saw it
again. It was once more in broad daylight, and this time he was wide awake. He
had entered at one end of a corridor, only to see the same man in chains
turning the corner to the right out of sight at the other end. The corridor between
them had been dim, but the hall at the other end was brightly lit. What was
more, the figure had not seemed to block the light at all.
Jefferson again dismissed
it, this time as a trick of the brain, brought on by the surprise at his
awaking before. He advanced across the corridor, and at the end he turned
right, and found one of his house boys standing as if struck. At first, he
thought this accounted for the illusion, until he realized the figure had gone
left. Still, a shadow perhaps? Then the boy said, Who was that man, sir?
Jefferson closely questioned
the boy, and got a description fitting in every detail what he himself had
seen. I asked, Was the boy at all a tale-spinner or prankster? No, an
intelligent and truthful fellow. He said the man had passed him, coming out of
nowhere, then disappearing at the end of the hall. Where he pointed was only a
window, the shutters drawn back, but still fixed fast against drafts. There was
dust, undisturbed, on the sill.
This was when the President
began keeping a record of the appearances. Might I see it? Of course. The
document produced (from a secured drawer) and examined. I found written there
the date, time, location, and person. I drew up a rough table and began to make
some calculations.
"I am most impressed,
Mr. Jefferson," I said, as I wrote. "Not only by your efficient
observations, but by the impulse to record them in the first place. I think you
would make an excellent agent in the Bureau yourself."
"Heaven forfend."
For a moment two hectic red spots bloomed on his pale cheeks. Was he flattered?
"I am far too occupied with more practical things. And I don't think I
could pass incognito among the general populace."
"Even so. Think how
your commanding presence might compel confidences and confessions."
"Surely that would skew
the results to some degree? The urge to please or interest..."
"Indeed." I
finished my notes. "Which is why I would rather interview the other
witnesses on my own, if you don't mind. I do not wish them to become tangled
under your scrutiny."
He frowned.
"They have already
testified to me. I doubt if their story will change."
"Then there is no
reason not to allow me private interviews, is there, or take up your time? I
have a few questions you perhaps have not thought of, and new inspirations
might strike. I will, of course, share whatever I might uncover."
He interlaced his hands and
looked at me over the knot.
"Very well," he
said. "Who would you question first?"
"Your valet, if you can
spare him for a few hours," I said. "Then he can lead me to the
others I wish to speak to."
He rang the bell, and a
tall, well-dressed black came in.
"Colbert, you are to be
at Mr. Jandt's disposal for a while. Take him wherever he wishes in Monticello
and answer all his questions. Tell Samuel he's to attend my call in your
absence."
(End Part Three)
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