Free Palindrome by Stuart Woods Page B

master he was,” Hamish said. “He ruled this island like a king. They say he hanged a few men who deserved it.”
    “How did he happen to come here?” Liz asked.
    “He got the island in a king’s grant in 1765. Eleven years later he was at war with his king. He was meant to be a delegate from Georgia at the signing of the Declaration of Independence, but he was delayed en route, and Button Gwinnett replaced him.”
    “Almost a father of his country,” Liz said.
    “Almost.” He moved along a row and stopped at another stone. “My parents are here, in the same grave,” he said.
    “Germaine told me about their deaths.”
    He waved a hand. “A scattering of other Drummonds, and then this.” He showed her to a very old stone,
    Sacred to the memory of
General Henry Lee of Virginia,
Obiit 25 March 1818,
aged 63.
    which lay horizontally over a border of bricks.
    “He was Light-Horse Harry Lee, Robert E.
    Lee’s father,” Liz said. “How did he come to die here?”
    “He fell ill on a ship that was passing Cumberland and was put ashore here to die.”
    Hamish pointed at another stone, this one lying horizontal, covering the grave. Liz read the inscription.
    The remains of General Henry Lee were
removed under an act of the General
Assembly of Virginia to Lexington Virginia
May 28, 1913.
    Hamish continued, “Old Aldred buried him in the family plot, and when the remains were moved to Virginia, the family kept the grave as it was.”
    “I don’t recall ever seeing an empty grave in a cemetery.”
    “Nor do I.” Hamish chuckled. He looked around the little graveyard. “I always thought I’d be buried here someday, but I guess not.”
    “Why not?”
    Hamish pointed to the edge of the marsh, only a few feet away. “The sea has come too close over the years. As it is now, if we got a big spring tide and a southeasterly gale at the same time, the place would be flooded. Grandpapa’s having all the graves moved inland a bit, to higher ground. He’s got a professor and some students from the Anthropology Department of the University of Georgia coming down to do the job soon. The graves are too old just to be dug up and the coffins transplanted. This place needs a finer touch, and Grandpapa is anxious that as little as possible be disturbed. He’d planned on being buried here, too, and he’s disappointed about that, but he’s not anxious to have the sea coming into his grave.”
    “It’s a nice place. I wouldn’t mind lying here until Judgment Day.”
    Hamish smiled his cool smile. “All you have to do is marry a Drummond.”
    “A high price to pay,” she said jokingly. “Are you married?”
    “I was; it didn’t work out. We were married in New York on rather short notice—a mistake for both of us, really, except for my son, Aldred.”
    “Do you see much of him?”
    “Not as much as I’d like, but I get him for a while in the summer. He’s five, now; when he’s a little older I’d like him to spend his summers here.”
    Liz got the Jeep started and, following Hamish’s directions, drove toward the main house. They passed a row of old automobiles, rusting to bits. There was an early-fifties Studebaker convertible among them. “My father used to have a Studebaker,” she said, pointing at the car.
    “I’m afraid that when things stop getting used around here they just get left where they stand,” Hamish said. He pointed out a large collapsed building as they passed. “That was the gymnasium. It housed a pool and a squash court. It just fell in on itself one day.” “Such a waste,” she said.
    “There were other things on the island that needed the money more, I guess. Grandpapa keeps up the roads and everything else himself.”
    The huge main house lay before them. It was the first time Liz had seen it. “Grandpapa’s jeep is gone,” Hamish said. “He’s out there prowling around his island. One of these days we’re going to find him dead in that jeep.”
    “There are worse ways to